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 All's quiet of the Forsaken front...... ?

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Posts : 85
Join date : 2009-11-25
Age : 29
Location : England

PostSubject: All's quiet of the Forsaken front...... ?   Fri Feb 18, 2011 1:09 am

((Unrelated to anything just small sequence I concocted in my head))

The Silverpine night air was thick with the acrid smells of war, mist wrapped and curled it's way through the forest like a ghostly blanket. Torches that lined the main road flickered. Pitch darkness loomed between each of them like a black void that would consume you should you step out the glow. The dull moonlight finding its way through the dead tree canopy that loomed overhead, the occasional howl of a breeze that in the stillness of the night sounded like an army of a thousand strong cheering as it tore through the leaves and other dead vegetation.

Baron Dawnrunner adjusted his posture atop his deathcharger inbetween the two guard towers that marked Tirisfal's end and Silverpine's beginning. The nightmarish, shadowy beast rearing it's head every now and again the rusted metal shackles the saronite armour plating over it's large black body rattling and clanking.
Dawnrunner's armour was no better at being silent. Chains and trinkets, medals and weapons all playing their part in the unwanted serenade. His helm emitting a dark purple glow as the eye-sockets burned furiously, the air around him turning to frost and the light rain cracking ever so quietly as it touched his ice cold carapace. He kept his wits about him nonetheless, his eyes darting around behind his emotionless helm until they settled on the winding path far ahead.

He spotted the forsaken messenger as she darted through the pool of torch light lining the path, she disappeared momentarily in the darkness inbetween each one.

"Come on ... quickly quickly." he said to himself quietly behind his helm watching the small figure in the distance.

.... The runner stopped, illuminated by a nearby torch.

"Don't stop, for Sylvanas's sake do not stop." his grip tightened on the reins in anxiety.

Suddenly the runner moved once evasively to the left and drew a short sword, Dawnrunner sat bolt up right in the saddle bringing the horse around.

Within an instant the runner disappeared from view, taken, snatched out from the torches glow by a large dark husk of fur and claws.

"Damn and blast it!!" Dawnrunner shouted. Guards closed in defensively out of the blackness of the night around him, each with swords drawn and torches held out.

"My Lord ..." one voice said "Shall we investigate?"

Arcturas sighed "...No, do not waste good soldiers..." he slouched in the saddle "Months on and Silverpine is still riddled with them! Dispatches from the front, the Sepulcher and even High Command, which might I add is just over a mile down that road are not getting trough. Those flea bitten mongrels still haunt the wilds, and so far north!"

The Forsaken captain looked sheepish "We will keep an eye out my lord."

Dawnrunner's eyes remained fixed in the distance for some minutes after, he shook his head and pulled one rein, his charger turned and he headed back into Tirisifal Glades.

Last edited by Arcturas on Fri Feb 18, 2011 5:15 am; edited 1 time in total
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Doctor Plaguous


Posts : 221
Join date : 2009-11-16
Location : Glasgow

PostSubject: Re: All's quiet of the Forsaken front...... ?   Fri Feb 18, 2011 3:10 am

Plaguous stood on a cliff overlooking a basin of trees and undergrowth within Silverpine. Far down lights of small camps glowed across, sprawling about a mile wide.

"Targets have been located, Grand Apothecary." A deathstalker reported to him.

"Good work, commander. Forward this information to the Worgenfinder General." The doctor replied.

The Dark Lord's orders were clear, to thin the population of Worgen in Silverpine. Silently, he stood on the cliff, mastering the logistics of the latest phase of the orders from the head of the House.

Plaguous smiled to his main assistant, Plague Doctor Septicess. "The virus should spread rapidly through their dirty and barbaric camps. We won't make it airbourne just yet, let us monitor this process. We've never caused and outbreak in worgen society before - it could be interesting."

Those surrounding Plaguous nodded in agreement at the Grand Apothecary's words. Within the logistics of the Royal Apothecary Society he was high ranked and well respected, and could command the lesser apothecaries with ease.

He pressed his hands together and looked towards the deathstalker commander assigned to this operation. "Prepare your stalkers, commander. We will begin the outbreak now. We camp here. I feel assured you have all the correct guard up to ensure our presence remains invisible?"

The Grand Apothecary is calm and contained as those around him rush to prepare to cause an outbreak in Silverpine. His serious manner and directed organisation shows he is no stranger to this.

The war in Silverpine continues...
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Septicess VonGrimme

Posts : 12
Join date : 2011-02-13
Age : 31
Location : Newcasstle Upon Tyne

PostSubject: Re: All's quiet of the Forsaken front...... ?   Fri Feb 18, 2011 11:36 pm

Nodding in agreement with his senior's observations, Septicess turned away from Plaguous and paced back and forth, observing the production of various foodstuffs on a series of impromptu tables, constructed with the remains of rotting bark and weather-torn stones, careful not to knock over dirt covered bottles and beakers containing crystal clear water perched on the ground.

Stopping abruptly, his fogged eyes focussed on a stack of seemingly harmless raw meat, dripping with blood, weaving a trail down through the gaps of the wood and sinking to the grass below. Picking a chunk of meat up and letting the red liquid drip down his skeletal fingers, he let out a hollow noise reminiscent of a laugh. If his jaw remained where it once was, he would have smirked as he thought of the suffering that the item he held was going to cause so much pain and agony. He would have even bore teeth thinking of the irony behind blood, the sustainer of life, would soon end lives.

Placing the meat back. he produced a vial and a long, needle thin shaft of sharp metal from a sack loosely threaded around his belt, unscrewed the cap and dipped the very edge of the blade into the dark green liquid. Concentrating, he withdrew the tip of the blade and with it coated in the syrup like substance, plunged the point through the stack, serrating it.

He then slowly lifted the syringe back out, clean of it's former glaze, leaving no mark of puncture through the meats. Not that the Worgen would care. Their rabid ways would quickly see the meat away without giving time to notice. And even if they did, their water supply would not show signs of tamper due to the way the concoction's sludge-like color became clear in contact with hydrogen, a trick he had learned in his time as a human, concealing chemicals in foodstuffs to help sedate the mentally infirm.

Pleased with the results, he turned and walked back to his mentor, Plaguous, who was silently observing the scene below.

"My Lord" Septicess wheezed, the exposed bones of his hands rattling as he held them together "The ssamples are ready for deployment."

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