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Second Chances (Open RP)
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Azeroth was doomed.
It hardly felt like a month had passed since Kalistra Sunstorm, the mad undead elf who had slain so many, had returned from hiding, striking hard and fast. Presumed deceased or departed, no one had seen it coming when she took Shattrath. Now A'dal was dead. Khadgar was dead. Jaina was dead.
And Kalistra had only grown stronger.
Azeroth had been stunned by the tragedy. The Horde and Alliance both rallied their armies to the Dark Portal, determined to address the threat. They had thought themselves prepared. Very few still lived who had realized how wrong that belief would prove to be. Orgrimmar had been her first target, razed to the ground with only a smouldering crater left where the city of thousands had once stood. Warchief Thura had managed to escape the fel holocaust, but the Horde had been crippled by the attack.
Kalistra then burnt a path through the Ashenvale forest to Nordrassil, consuming what Archimonde and Ragnaros had failed to. From there, she burnt Moonglade and Teldrassil, before finally turning her sights on the continent of Northrend. She had taken the Eye of Eternity next, draining Tyrigosa, the Aspect of Magic, of her life and her magic, before basking in the power of the Nexus. In a fit of delirious ecstasy, she destroyed the Icecrown Citadel before turning southeast to the Dragonblight. After that, Alexstraza, Aspect of Life, and her sister Ysera, Guardian of the Emerald Dream had fallen so quickly.
Her draining of the planet's ley lines left the planets magi powerless and tightened her chokehold on the races of Azeroth. The Twilight's Hammer Cult had risen again shortly thereafter, believing Kalistra's return to be the long awaited apocalypse. They were quickly devoured by the crazed elf. The economies of Azeroth soon collapsed as people fled their homes in droves, looting, killing, and turning on each other in mad ancarchy. Rich and poor alike died of hunger or disease or the simple heartless greed of their neighbors.
Nozdormu had been the last. His powers over time had made it difficult for Kalistra to pin down, but finally, he too had fallen. The rest of his flight fled into the past and future, leaderless and confused. With the death of the last Aspect, many fell into despair. Thousands took their own lives or descended into crazed orgies of hopeless hedonism in expectation of the end of the world.
But a few refused to give up hope. With Nozdormu gone, and time unguarded, perhaps it was possible to go back and prevent this horrible oblivion.
Now Gurka Witchkiller stood before the unstable portal into the past, looking to her sides. With her stood old friends and new; allies she didn't know; and even a few she didn't trust at all. They all wanted to stop Kalistra's rise, however, and were willing to give their lives for that desperate hope, and that was what mattered.
Steeling herself and praying to her ancestors for strength, she took a step through the portal.
Azeroth deserved a second chance.
Welcome to Second Chances!
This RP is based on the
Azeroth, 20 Years Later
Roleplays, but takes place in the mainstream timeline, just before Landfall (Patch 5.1). You are free to either play one of your existing Doomed Timeline characters (where and
they arrive is up to you) from 38 years after the Cataclysm, or to use one of your Alpha Timeline (to borrow a
term :P) characters. Or you can create a new one! Whatever floats your boat. Don’t worry about the mechanics of time-travel, either, because the characters have split into a new timeline. So your future Aftermath characters CAN interact with past versions of characters without any temporal consequences! Yay simplicity!
I’ve got several plot ideas, but much like A20 and Aftermath, this will be mostly a sandbox RP. I’d love to see where this one takes us.
Gurka groaned as she smacked into the sand of Tanaris. Her stomach was turning after the trip through unregulated time. Finally she got to her feet, looking around to get her bearings. Half a mile away, she could see the goblin city of Gadgetzan. She sighed in simultaneous relief that it still existed here, and annoyance that it was such a walk away, and started off towards it.
The Fel-sworn yawned and stretched as he stepped out of the portal, looking skyward at a horizon not darkened by the fires that the World Eater had started. "
Now, to figure out where in the World and Time I am.
" The orc laughed, stomping off, leaving behind flaming foot prints.
"What in the Loa?" Zala screeched, getting to her feet after she and Miri tumbled out of their portal. The half-troll shook her head and looked around in wide eyed shock, seeing what should have been the familiar hidden village of Shatterspear completely destroyed.
"Zala, wait." Miri muttered, forcing herself up and moving after the young woman.
The blood elf exited the portal and looked around, a look of hatred on his face. The mage kept a cloak pulled over his head, silent as he stalked towards the city of the Blood Elves.
Roth'Aldielas slid out of the slight rupture in the fabric of reality. The brown worg sniffed about the desert sands and started walking.
Location: (Past Timeline) Darkshore
The father and daugther warlocks landed roughly on the other side of the portal. The Grand Warlock stood and looked around, he grunted and scowled. "Darkshore, home of many night elves."
"The land is damaged, father," Lak'tuk said, looking at the destruction around them. "And I do not think that it was caused by the portal."
The male warlock shook his head. "No, this is the Cataclysm. We have not traveled as far back as I had thought we might."
"But that is... good?"
"In it's own way," Curho nodded slightly. "Let us get moving, we have much ground to cover."
Lak'tuk started to move, but stopped after only a few seconds of walking. "Father, I sense a pressence in that direction. I think... they were from our time." She pointed southward.
Curho looked in that direction. "Then let us see who they are, and if they are to be embraced as friends of the Legion of slaughtered a enemies." They altered their course and continued.
Morec, of the House of Rivendare
Location: (The Original Timeline) The Caverns of Time
One by one Morec watched the other heroes depart through the portals. He stood and waited, watching faces he knew and faces he didn't know pass through.
But he had no intention of following. Oh now, this world was almost exactly what he wanted. Granted it was damage and dying, but it was enthralled in chaos. Enthralled with anarchy. His powers were limited by the lack of arcane magic in the world, but he still had his death knight powers, and he could still tap into the Shadow, Fel, and Elements through his runes.
It was not everything he had wanted, but it was the closest he had gotten in all his existance.
And he would take it.
Leopold Chopin, Damon
"Damon! We appear to be falling!"
"If we crash, I do believe I shall be in pain."
"It is a likely result."
"Though sand does appear to be soft. Do you think it would break my fall?"
"You are likely to break something."
"Point to you then! In which case, mind throwing on a levitation spell? I'd rather not sully my new coat."
"Of course,," Damon replied. The black robed Forsaken, his long and narrow skeletal face locked in deadpan, waved a bony hand at his companion.
Leopold -- the Forsaken swirling through the air amidst a swirl of red coat, frills, and an inhumanely puffy set of white hair -- abruptly began to descend at a more regular pace. He fairly trotted down the air with a bony hand holding down a tricorne hat upon his head. Though Leopold's face was rotted and eyes glowed yellow with undead, his skeletal face was broad and grinning with amusement.
Leopold touched down upon the ground daintily. Swirling his brilliantly red coat with frills exploding from sleeves and collars, he came to stand upon one of many of the endless dunes of sand which characterized Tanaris. That, and copious amounts of predators both natural and otherwise.
"My my!" he exclaimed, looking over the ocean of sun baked gold. "How horribly dismal. Eh, Damon?"
The shadow priest stepped onto the ground lightly, folding his hands into the dark sleeves of his robes. "It does appear to be so."
"Well! No matter. How does being a nomad sound? I dare say I did always fancy the life of a desert wanderer. Living amongst the mountains, seeking water, and fighting against bandits in the name of goodness and what's right. Maybe even save the daughter of a caliph from some raiding centaurs. Sounds positively delightful!"
"Though, with scarcity of water, your coat will surely be dirtied for some time," Damon pointed out.
Leopold looked down at his blood red coat. "Hrmmm...Good point. Shall we find some civilization then?"
"Off we go then!" Leopold cried cheerily. Throwing his legs up in an exaggerated fashion, he began to step across the dunes towards the distant haze of either a town, or a mountain. At his back calmly strode Damon, implacable as ever.
Gurka had finally reached the city, but realized she had no idea where Kalistra or Dag'rema or anyone else from this time period would be. She decided to stop in the inn to ask around.
Snowmane blinked and then gasped, and then choked, realizing that the portal had thrown her at the bottom of a lake. Her instincts taking over, she pushed off the bottom of the lakebed and surged toward the surface.
Koren Vile(Alpha Timeline)
"No no no....this certainly won't do...." Koren mused as he held his hand out, pumping fel magic into his screaming victim before him. He was a night elf druid Koren captured snooping around his campsite on the cliffs of felwood. The druid cried out in agony while the fel went to work attempting to fix his wounds, although the fel energies had to burn while they did their work, "You can't just die like that I need you for...." A sudden feeling hit him, "What the?"
While he wasn't as powerful as his friend Curho, he still felt the numerous portals opening around the world. Deciding to investigate he called out for his minion, "Dragtai" The imp appeared next to its' master, "Inform Curho that I'm going out for a moment to investigate what just happened.....and clean up this mess...." With a wave of his hand the druid was immolated as he exited his tent with his weapon on his hip.
Dragtai blinked for a moment before turning heel and rushing down further into the legion camps, trying to track down Demoneye to inform him of his master's decision.
Standing on the cliffs overlooking Felwood Koren began to chant, summoning several eyes of Kilrogg he sent them out, trying to track down where the portals had appeared, trying to ignore the nagging feeling he had in the back of his mind that he was missing something.
Leopold Chopin, Damon
"Lovely town, wouldn't you say?"
"I would say something about it, sir," Damon replied as the pair pushed their way through the crowds of Gadgetzan. The bulky stone buildings squatted all about them, so closely packed they blotted out the very sun, casting a perpetual fetid gloom across the streets.
"Indeed! Just listen to those voices! A hundred races, a thousand cultures. A mosaic of peoples my good man! Aha! See? that young man just tried to pick my pocket. Cheeky devil. So alive this city! Life of adventure my good Damon! This is where things start. I like it far more than when it was on fire like last we saw it."
"Not being on fire is generally considered a benefit," Damon observed.
"Indeed!...Okay, I'm bored of the crowds. Shout if you see an inn," Leopold said, shoving his bony hands into his pockets and kicking his way forward. His sawing walk caused many to give way lest they receive his black buckled shoe in their back.
Arthevold smiled quite jollily. What a familiar sensation it was to-
The introductory oration was clipped quite spectacularly as the undead madman slammed into the earth at unreasonably high speeds.
Lurdukmun Shade-(Alpha Timeline)
Sitting at one of the tables in the Gadgetzan inn was one Lurdukmun Shade, he was sitting with his back to the door, drinking quietly as he relaxed for his one chosen break day. His back proudly desplayed his Bleeding Hollow clan mark, having taken off his armor due to the heat. Drinking down the nasty swill the goblins served him he grunted, "Nasty grog...." spitting to the side he reached out and grabbed a piece of meat of one of the platters, and quickly began to devour it.
Russell Deathsbane-(Offshoot Timeline)
A sudden lurch and Russell felt himself falling, doing as Urdish had taught him and slowed his fall with his magics. Righting himself he landed and took in his surroundings, he seemed to be in an underground meditation chamber, "Hello?" The shadow priest asked aloud, it looked like he was underground, just how far back did he go? Closing his eyes Russell reached out through the shadows, trying to contact other of the faithful,
Brother Urdish? Father Skreel?
Not knowing that he was broadcasting his location to all priest nearby, nor that some of them would not be friendly if they found him.
Another crack in time and space appeared half a yard up in the air a few hundred paces from Gadgetzan, and from it Leera skipped gracefully.
She looked around curiously. People seemed to appear here and there, and they congregated on the city. So would she.
She started walking the short distance, soon finding herself within the borders of the strange goblin town. An inn revealed itself, boasting with beer and steaks through signs. The prices were of course...goblinesque.
She entered the dimly lit tavern. Immediately one could see that the current patrons were not the ordinary lot; today the room held heroes. The very air was thick with suspense and radiant power from the people within. Leera steered for an empty table without placing and order, sitting down properly with her back against a corner and observing the room.
Lancalor looked around, somewhere, here, was a portal to the past. He would wait, but if this took too long he wouldn't care.
He'll just have to kill this elf in this time instead and clean up the mess later. but, as he was told, a portal opened and he walked into it.
The Avenger's crusade has begun.
Finally a chance to use my original version of Lancalor
Kor raised an eyebrow as he observed a group of what he thought were Horde forces marching through the Barrens. The Fel-sworn absently tapped his jaw, considering what to do; there were only about 6 of them, and he did need information.
"Where are they?" Zala yelled, seeing nothing but destruction and devastation as she ran through the ruins of Shatterspear.
"Zala, wait, come back!" Miri yelled, trying to keep up with the troll woman. The half-troll half-elf felt exposed and wasn't really sure what was going on in this time line, but figured they should stay together.
Tae slowed as he reached the gates to Silvermoon, surprised despite himself; the city was still half in ruins, but his people seemed to be fine. He blinked back sudden tears at seeing Blood Elves again, as the World Eater had gone out of her way to cause mayhem in Silvermoon, killing and draining any who had gotten in her way. Tae shook his head and continued forward, trying to get himself under control.
"You smell funny," a voice informed from behind Tae'sash. A lightly armoured blood elf, clad in beautiful thin plates and scales of red, black and gold had asked, and he had an inquiring and curious look on his face. Sarrin took a step forward; he was just a few paces away from the hooded elf. His eyebrows furrowed, a more concerned expression replacing the former. "You're not from around here, are you?"
Axe, Marrosh of the Warsong, Aetius Necitore
(Original Timeline) Caverns of Time
Elaea, Nihilion, both gone. Axe deeply suffered for them as the both, the moment Orgrimmar was attacked, made a shield of Nether and Light to protect the orc warrior. Axe however, was no longer the same. He had only one thing left to do. Revenge, for the fallen. The orc had been torn totally by the fel powers, his exposed arms glowing fel red, four horns protruding from the warrior's back. Axe didn't feel lucky to remain alive, he didn't have anything to live for, but to prevent the end.
A Death Knight walked alongside the warrior, of the same species. The wielder of the Unholy had seen it all from his steed as he escaped the Citadel. Riding through a past of frost, the death knight had travelled to Orgrimmar to see it destroyed, and finding Axe turned into the revenge-filled fel orc he now was. Marrosh had decided to follow his friend in a last glorious fight.
Aetius had thought about it in a different way. The master assassin, "friend" of Axe and once brother-in-arms in the ranks of the Argent Dawn alognside the once shaman Marrosh of the Warsong, never saw any of his apprentices come back to the headquarters, or the emergency safehouse. The undead never harbored any particular feelings to his deceased students, but the Order had a name to keep. Especially as the last of the Necitore, Aetius had to keep the Order alive, remake it if needed.
Axe nodded, and the other two followed behind, entering the portal.
They appeared in Shattrath, but at what time? The death knight, from afar, saw a young orc, wearing a tabard of the Warsong, with a fierce look, and mumbled to himself: "Rommash, brother..." As the unholy knight moved towards the past of his brother, Aetius stopped him, saying: "Idiot, if he's your brother, that must be when you were still a shaman. But this is good. We might be in time to stop the self-called Kalistra. If you go to your brother, he will not recognize you, and Axe will be attacked, since he is a fel orc, or looks like one anyways."
The undead then proceeded: "Axe, put these clothes on. They should cover you and we will enter Shattrath, claiming you are a silent berserker of some sort. Marrosh should pass of someone that had an accident when Naxxramas reached the Plaguelands. We shall look for an inn, and check if anyone knows about someone named Kalistra." The fel-orc nodded, and walked alongside the group, covered in raggedy clothes.
"I was born in this city many years ago." Tae'sash said, his voice harsh and gravelly. The hooded elf looked over his shoulder, his face still hidden in his cloak. "I'm here to find a...relative of mine." He said. "As far as I know, the City is always open to Elf kind."
"It is, and you are always welcome," Sarrin said courteously. "But I think you know what I rather meant..."
"No, I truly don't." Tae'sash said then turned to enter into the city. "Now, if you excuse me, I need to go and check the rolls to find out where my relative lives." He said.
"You are excused," Sarrin said with a minimal bow.
When the hooded elf had disappeared through the gates, the concerned look reappeared on Sarrin's face. He hurried off into the city, eager to investigate.
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