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ReGen 3, Wrath of the Lich King (Open RP)
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Post by
oneforthemoney
Character:
Balrick Brighthammer, Dominic Majunc
Location:
Borean Tundra
"They are traitors. All of them," Balrick growled. His grip tightened on the reins. "Death is too good for them. I'll see Miter's bones bleaching these frozen wastes before I'm done and I'll turn his skull into a cup!"
Post by
Persen
Evlyn Linder
Dragonblight
Linder looked from Miter to the crusaders. The closest ones had
definitely
heard the inquisitor speak, but weren't carrying out the order. Instead, their eyes were all on her.
Apparently, to them she was second-in-command. 'I better play along', she thought, her heart starting to beat faster. Everything was quiet, except for Miter’s creaking footfalls on the dry snow.
“You heard him!” Evlyn said, and like a pin had been pulled the crusaders exploded into action. She hadn’t even raised her voice. It felt strange. Strange, but very good...
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character:
Miter Brighthammer, Sybil Duir
Location:
Dragonblight
The chains of the sledge rang like silver bells in the quiet winter as Miter slung them over his shoulder. Bodily, he moved forward into the darkness of the cave, dragging the sledge and its macabre burden after him.
Post by
Persen
Evlyn Linder
Dragonblight
Evlyn followed. Not hesitantly, but there was a certain almost unconscious reluctance to approach the cave, like it pushed against her. After her came all crusaders, save the four appointed to keep watch, warily keeping their hands on sword hilts or other weapons, whatever they might carry.
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character:
Miter Brighthammer, Sybil Duir
Location:
Dragonblight
Ice cracked and broke beneath the skis of the sledge. Ice black as night caked the walls. White light gleamed off corners of the smooth ice, illuminating the interior with flashes. Not an icicle was within, for no warmth had entered to melt it. Snow drifted in piles along the walls.
The tunnel opened in a vast chamber. Snow had clustered here, huddling piles of white dismissed to corners by the frigid breeze. A warhammer lay in the middle of the floor, head of golden metal with the joint of the T hammered with a golden lion and blue. Frost anchored it securely to the floor.
Miter's eyes slid over it, then fell upon the thing in the center of the chamber.
It was built on a carefully carved platform of stone with several steps. The top of the dais was a massive chunk of solid ice. Or had been. Its pristine surface was shattered, shards lying scattered like needles at its base, the uneven chunks that remained rising like the back of a throne.
There was a horrid chill in the cave. It had been increasing as they entered, but here it was at its worst. It clutched the throat and shriveled the soul. Silence like a cathedral filled the chamber.
The chain being dropped rang shrilly in the quiet.
"At last," Miter breathed.
Post by
morginar
Character
:
Ithalwen Azureweaver
Location
: Boeran tundra
"I hope that is not your litteral agenda." Ithalwen replied somewhat startled. "No one deserve the fate of undeath, and skull mugs is for primitives." The high elf continued with narrowed eyes as she looked at Balricks face.
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character:
Balrick Brighthammer, Dominic Majunc
Location:
Borean Tundra
Balrick gave her a startled look. "...Yes. True. True," he said in an undertone, bowing his head so the shadows of his hood obscured his face. "It is a fate no one deserves. And that is..." He trailed off. The clip clop of his horses unholy hooves clacked on the road once more, leaving the field of still smoking dead behind.
Post by
morginar
Character
:
Ithalwen Azureweaver
Location
: Boeran tundra
Ithalwen turned her head back to the road. Not overly comforted by the realay. "True..." The spellblade trailed of. Riding into metaphorical sunset.
Post by
Persen
Evlyn Linder
Dragonblight
Pale faces surrounded Miter, the crusaders forming a half-circle around the inquisitor. No white mist came from the mouth and nose of the man next to Evlyn, and she surmised he was holding his breath. The air was colder than anything she had ever touched. There was a thousand things wrong with this place.
The one thing that gnawed at her the most, though, was that in spite of everything she wasn't afraid.
Post by
jebby
Character
: Tharvulius Harrison
Location
: Borean Tundra
"Let's not be too hasty on the 'no skull cups'." Tharvulius said as he rode up. "A good skull goblet is rather fancy when properly inlaid with gold."
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character:
Miter Brighthammer, Sybil Duir
Location:
Dragonblight
"This is what we came for," Miter said as he walked away from the crusaders. As he approached the icy relic he reached into his robe and pulled free something. It was a mace, the head ivory in the shape of a skull. THe handle was black iron with a guard like a rib cage. The skull was inlaid with rubies for eyes and diamonds for teeth like a saint's reliquary.
Miter climbed the first two steps of the dais and turned to face the Crusaders.
"Look on it," he commanded, the golden light of his pauldrons refracting in the facets of the unholy ice. "The prison of Froustmourne. The beginning of the Lich King. The device which turned the prince of Lordaeron into a champion of the Scourge. The thief of souls! The weapon which has laid waste to our lands. Our friends. Our family.
"And is it not fitting!" Miter raised the mace, his eyes alive with something like madness. "That it be the device of our victory!"
he smashed the mace into the ice. Fragments shattered, ringing out like the final toll of a dirge. A blast of freezing air raced down the passage, fluttering scarlet cloaks and spinning snow into the air, rushing to the spot where the mace had fractured Frostmourne prison.
With a sound like a dying gasp, every light in the cave went out.
Character:
Balrick Brighthammer, Dominic Majunc
Location:
Borean Tundra
Balrick shook his head. "No. She is right. I should be...better than that."
Post by
morginar
Character
:
Ithalwen Azureweaver
Location
: Boeran tundra
Ithalwen nodded. "you should"
Character
: Morginar
Location
: Frixxanar
Morginar tapped his fingers on his throne. If his skull had any flesh it might show some anger. But the cold grip of the grave had striped him of all that was living, all that was weak.
From the opposite side of the circular chamber opened a door made out of bones of the fallen, their hands holding each other when it's closed and drifting aside as it opens, like now.
Through it came a undead man in white robes with matching white mask and feathered hat. At his side a blade too long for a dirk and to thin for a longsword. His left side looked more living, but his right looked rotten.
The man walked to the center of the room, unsurprised by being first. As he tend to come early. "Why have I been called?" He asked.
Morginar gazed onto the undead human. "I shall tell later." He replied, in his monotone hollow voice.
The door opened again. This time a female human. Black robes with silver. A dark violet gem hanged in chains around her neck. Her face obscured by bandages and the hood of her robe. In her hand was a scythe. The shoulder pads formed like spider legs reaching up from behind and beside her head. But otherwise it had plenty of skulls and bones.
The lady merely greeted by a nod. After her came a darkfallen. A male elf slain and returned. His torso mostly exposed but he cared to shroud his face in a mask. Crimson and ebon are his colors. His daggers like fangs gleamed in his belt. His hair blue in contrast. His cloak hanged on his shoulders, the only thing to make a sound as it was dragged on the floor. He cared to move like as quiet as death and without breath or pulse, he could be.
After a few minutes of waiting. The man in white tapped his foot impatiently. "Where is he?" He asked annoyed.
The lady shrugged.
The elf gave lazy look to the man. "Why should I care?"
And speaking of the trolls. The doors opened by their own accord and a saronite clad knight stepped forwards. His plate as dark as the night before dawn. Skulls and fangs jutted out of it in a horrid fashion. In his sword belt he carried two runeswords with frost covered scabbards. Blue eyes gleamed out of his eye sockets and ragged white hair thin like a elderly but his face seemed young.
"Why are you late?" The human in white asked.
"Because his brain is rotten to the core. We should be thankful that two braincells bumped into each other so he came at all." The lady with the scythe replied with dry humor.
"Heh." The elf smirked, eyeing the late knight.
"I-" The Knight began.
"Don't care." Morginar the lich ended the sentence for him. "We have work to do. The second home of frostmourne has been defiled. Find the graverobbers, stop their meddling and kill them. That is the master's will. And it shall be done." The lich explained.
"Shall we get a army?" The darkfallen asked.
"No." And with that the chamber was heavily illuminated, a circle appeared around the four and a the ridders vanished in the light.
Character
: The four riders of darkness
Location
: Dragonblight
"Why?" Asked the darkfallen. Only to notice that in a blink of an eye, he had been teleported to snowy fields.
"What a jerk." The lady commented.
"Where are we?" The one in white commented, looking over the frozen land.
"We can hope the jerk made it close to where frostmourne used to be." The lady answered with annoyance.
Looking up the elf said. "Dragonblight."
"How do you know" the knight asked.
The elf only pointed, and ridders four looked at a crimson and a azure dragon in battle, flying and breathing to end each others life.
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character:
---
Location:
Dragonblight
In the frosted halls of Icecrown, where the wind cut with the sound of eternal screams, twining round jagged peaks of black metal made from the blood of a dead god, a cry went up.
On the frozen throne, his back against the pillar of ice once serving as his prison, the Lich King clutched his chest. The once human prince sat very still, staring out at the black sky between the iron spires of his castle. He could feel the essence of every undead which walked the northern wastes, raised by his magic, chained to his will.
But something had changed.
He rose. Frost cracked and shattered between the steel of his armour, raining shards with his every movement. His footsteps rang hollow on the icy steps, reverberating through the Frozen Throne to the very depths where lesser undead quailed and slunk into corners, and the greater looked up and wondered at what had raised their master's ire. He crossed the platform and stopped in the middle. The black ice beneath his feet showed his reflection, immense, powerful, the Lich King.
He stood still. Fingers clad in black touched Frostmourne's hilt and closed tight. Blue flame licked from the serrated blade to the ram's skull hilt. His voice reverberated, rising like an echo from the depths of a tomb.
"
Where.
"
Slowly he turned. Away from the sea. From Ulduar and the old god of death. From Zuldrak and the belligerent empire of trolls. From Crystalsong and the mighty mage city which floated above. He found himself looking south. South, from whence his enemies came. South.
The Dragonblight.
He threw back his head and his summons echoed through the frozen wastes.
"
Sirileth!
"
Post by
Persen
Evlyn Linder
Dragonblight
Startled gasps in every direction. Anxiously shifting feet. Trembling hands, searching in the darkness.
All around her, men and women reacted completely predictably. Linder was still and silent, listening to the crusaders' fumbling.
Why was it so dark?
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character:
Miter Brighthammer, Sybil Duir
Location:
Dragonblight
A light flickered from atop the icy pillar. Glowing yellow, the two spheres of light slowly illuminated the room. Rekindling, the holy glow from Miter's pauldrons spilled across the square.
As did the ones in his eyes.
He stood at ease, the strange mace hanging from his hand. The skull was decorated with shards of black ice, blackish flames flickering from each point like he carried a torch of darkness. His features were shallower, skin stretched across sunken cheeks and shadowed sockets. His eyes were lit with twin yellow glows, and looking long enough, pupils could be discerned in them.
He walked down the steps. The cave echoed hollowly with his steps, his scarlet robes fluttering as if with their own wind.
"
Death
," he said, voice echoing like his every step, "
will never again stop the Crusade
."
Character:
Balrick Brighthammer, Dominic Majunc
Location:
Borean Tundra
Balrick reared his horse. He blinked rapidly and gave his head a violent shake.
Post by
Persen
Evlyn Linder
Dragonblight
The shuffling stopped. Eyes were rubbed and shaded. The inquisitor was beheld with tangible apprehension...and then he spoke.
The chill of death ran up Linder's spine. It was not wholly unpleasant. Around her, sidelong glances were exchanged; some looked like they were about to reject their breakfast while others subtly tried to renew the grips on their weapons.
Faithless cowards.
Post by
jebby
Character
: Tharvulius Harrison
Location
: Borean Tundra
"Something is wrong." Tharvulius stated. "I know not what, and it is little more than a feeling, but something is definitely wrong."
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character:
Miter Brighthammer, Sybil Duir
Location:
Dragonblight
Miter walked before the idling and uncertain crusaders. He stopped beside the sledge.
"
For too long the Lich King has stolen our soldiers from us. Robbed the faithful their right to peace. Forced them to fight past death for him
." Miter raised his mace. "
No more
." He stabbed the jagged ends of the mace into Sybil. Her eyes flew open, her mouth opening in a gasp. The black fire which crawled from the mace enveloped the Crusader. Her fingers twitched and her hair writhed like snakes. Miter stepped back. He pulled the mace free but the black flame remained.
Fingers cracked with breaking rigor mortis and grabbed the edges of the sledge. Sybil rose shakily from her bed, her eyes wide. Yellow light flickered in the sockets, then steadied. She stood, staring at a space in the frozen wall, then looked down to her hands as if in disbelief to see them again.
"
The first of a new era
," Miter said. "
We will wield the very might the Lich King sought to destroy us with.
" He gestured to the raised scarlet. "
A death knight of the Crusade!
"
Character:
Balrick Brighthammer, Dominic Majunc
Location:
Borean Tundra
Balrick nodded. Nothing certain, but a newfound sense of urgency filled him. He spurred Moriv with a thought and snap of the reins. The dreadsteed nickered, its cry echoing across the frozen plains. Its hooves dug into the road and the death knight charged down the winding round across the Tundra.
Post by
jebby
Character
: Tharvulius Harrison
Location
: Borean Tundra
Tharvulius spurred his pony on after Balrick. "We will do battle before long. I feel it in my bones." He frowned at his empty vest. "I wish I had the chance to restock, but time seems short."
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character:
Balrick Brighthammer, Dominic Majunc
Location:
Borean Tundra
Balrick grimaced and willed his horse to slow a touch. "There will be...places to rest up. There's some distance to be crossed. We won't arrive quickly," he said, and even as he did, he knew he could make it nonstop astride his deathly steed, and cursed the frailty of the living, and grew miserable that he had.
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