Fandom Warcraft: Children of the Blood

[Xemanorth]

Answering the call to action sent out to the world by the elves of Quel'thalas, a group of adventurers, soldiers, mages, men and women of the faith and everything in between gathers at Sunsail Anchorage. Those native to the lands have been invited to the harbor to receive these new, strange guests by governmental decree and those arriving in the elven lands have chosen, or been chosen to aid in the restoration of Quel'thalas.

The reasons behind exactly why vary greatly from individual to individual, some selfish, others selfless, some political and others personal. Whatever the case may be you now find your ship docking after a lengthy journey out on sea. Among the arrivals is a gnome mage, a human huntress, a draenei priestess as well as a half-elven paladin. In addition, a draenei vindicator accompanies the priestess, her reasons for being here being to investigate the exact reasoning why the elves they had encountered on Outland had chosen to sabotage the interplanetary vessel of the draenei: The Exodar.

The others, arrive as a supplementary force of volunteers, primarily here to bolster the elves' numbers, as well as to assist them in gaining a proper foothold in their now ravaged lands. The group, or rather pair of locals that have been sent to the harbor to receive the volunteers is much humbler in terms of its numbers, consisting only of a single pair of elves, one of which was clearly a spellweaver of some ilk and the other a soldier, donned in the gold, silver and red tones now favored by his people.

Allowing the arriving group a graceful period of time to gather their wits as well as belongings before disembarking and gathering at the dock, the armored elven male finally speaks as the group forms together. "Greetings travelers and welcome to Quel'thalas. Land of the elves, and of eternal spring." The man spoke, motioning inland toward the lush forests, painted varying shades of reds and yellows by the light of the slowly setting sun. Despite the welcoming choice of words, the elf's tone fell dreadfully short of any kind of mirth or warmth, let alone amusement.

"You have gracefully chosen to answer the summons of my people, and for that, we thank you." The man said, bowing his head deep as he clasped his gauntleted hands together in front of him. "I am Captain Coltherian Dawnwatcher, captain of what, you may ask? Well this-" he paused mid-sentence, allowing his remaining eye to bounce between the individuals gathered, it was obvious the turn-up was less than he had expected, either in terms of number or apparent capability. "-- quaint band of adventurers. As you are here to lend your assistance in an official capacity, I have been appointed as your "leader", that is to say, I am responsible for your actions during your stay here." The elf explained, flipping open a leather satchel attached to his belt before reaching within, retrieving and presenting a golden brooch, holding it high above his head for all those gathered to see.

"You will be identified by the locals, as well as guards and other officials by this brooch." He announced, his free hand motioning to its elaborate craftsmanship. The golden brooch was in the shape of a phoenix, a symbol commonly used by the Sin'dorei and an exceptionally fitting one given the fact that the purpose of the group was to help in what was more or less the resurrection of an entire elven kingdom. "Please, do not lose it." The man said, his tone even more stern and unamused than it had been thus far, if that were even possible. He made his way around from person to person, handing each of them a brooch of their own, starting from left to right before returning his position by the elven caster that accompanied him, giving her one as well.

"You do not necessarily have to visibly wear it, but make sure it is with you at all times. Though the people, as well as the guard is aware of your arrival, we do not wish this invitation to be interpreted as an opportunity for the forces of the Horde or the Alliance to go about performing open espionage, as paradoxical as that may sound." He clasped his hands together once more, gauntlets audibly clanking against one another in a sharp clap as the man continued further yet. "Our first order of business is simple, to introduce ourselves to one another. So... have at it." He finally finished, wafting a plated hand in the direction of the center of the vague semi-circle the group had formed on the sunbathed docks of Sunsail Anchorage. "... Oh and feel free to ask any questions you may have after your introduction.".
( Sook , Noble Scion , DapperCat , Karcen , Qwarkl )

Spoiler: A map, marked with the party's current position

 

[Qwarkl]

Orlan Swiftbreeze
Sunsail Anchorage

Orlan let out a sigh if relief as the ship docked. He did not much care for sea voyages, but he had endured for the sake of his mission. It was evident that his fellow passengers had arrived for the same reason. Invited to this place by the Sin'dorei, for reasons that Orlan did not yet know. The voyage had afforded Orlan precious little time to acquaint himself with these people, though he was sure the opportunity would arise shortly. Regardless, the paladin descended the gangplank of the ship towards the dock. Across one shoulder Orlan had slung a burlap sack. It contained his extra articles of clothing and other items he thought difficult to replace in Quel'thalas.

Sunsail exemplified the elegance of elven architecture and style. Tall tapering towers, open breezeways, and a magical energy permeating everything. However, Orlan could not help but notice a fundamental shift. Where as Quel'thalas and the Quel'dorei were once adorned in soft blues and silvers, they now draped themselves and their surroundings in bright reds and golds. Orlan recalled his brief and hurried time in Quel'thalas, during the Second War. While he had little time to study the architecture then, he did recall that it was vastly different. 'This is the result of unending brutality,' the paladin thought. The scourge and the plague of undeath had brought about this shift. Created the Sin'dorei where there had once been Quel'dorei.

He deposited the bag at his feet as stood alongside his fellows before, what he could only assume was, the welcoming party. It was only two elves. One a man in heavy plate, the other a woman in robes. They held themselves in the haughty and dismissive way elves always did. By now Orlan was used to the disparaging looks he received. He had seen the sideways glance when he first arrived in Quel'thalas so long ago. He expected nothing different now, nor was he concerned with how repulsive the Sin'dorei may find his existence. Orlan had come here with a purpose and he would see it through.

To that end Orlan listened intently as their host made his welcome and introduced himself. He was vague in what exactly this 'quaint band' was intended to do here, aside from carry this small brooch Coltherian Dawnwatcher had distributed. Orlan had taken it from the Captain. Offering his thank in Thalassian as he did so. The half-elf turned the small badge over in his hands, studying it. The brooch, like all elven crafts, was of the highest quality. Taking the Captain's words to heart, Orlan pinned the brooch to his tabard. He adjusted it as Coltherian returned to his starting position.

Orlan eyed either side of the group. With no other volunteers, Orlan decided to step forward and speak first. Stepping forward he began, "My name is Orlan Swiftbreeze, of Quel'danil. I am a knight of the Silver Hand." He focused his gaze upon the Captain and his companion. In Thalassian he continued, "I am honored to be a guest of the Sin'dorei." He switched back to the Common tongue. "I have come on behalf of the Silver Hand, to render what aid I can." For a moment Orlan was quiet. "If I may ask, why have your people chosen now to call for aid?"

 

[Karcen]

Valria was in truth rather bored waiting for this boat she felt no need to stay for these outsiders the blood elves as they were now called could fix things themselves. Still at least the outsiders were somewhat pleasant to look at and they beat the orcs, troll, and corpses that could have come instead. Valria in truth was no fan of the horde it was composed of beings that had wronged or were related to those that had wronged the elves before, the alliance was much more agreeable given the humans that had wronged the elves had the decency to die and suffer undeath for their actions. it was not fair but well at least the alliance weren't a bunch of uncivilized hut dwellers that were likely to kill everyone because they couldn't figure out a question. Still the outsiders were not as interesting as what stood beside Valria , a demon with a appealing form wearing what looked like a metallic corset and panties, a succubus. Valria rarely got tired of looking at her pet the demon was meant to captivate and Valria did enjoy watching though she wanted to do more than look, but it wasn't touching she wanted she would so love to drain the demonic power from the demon and empower herself. Above all the enemies of the elves the ones that were the worst were the demons and Valria wanted to badly to destroy them, even more than to take her home back as she had snuck in a few times before to find certain objects of power freed from their vaults by the undead.

Valria again looked to the newcomers few had the sense to adorn themselves as Valria did wearing a purple dress that exposed her hips and thighs and a good part of her chest. She wore no shoes today though she had bracelets, earnings, anklets and at least one ring on each hand embedded with several different gems. Combined with her almost unnatural beauty and youth if a night elf saw her they might think Azshara had returned, or so Valria liked to think. Still it had been decided that these less than fully pleasing people would be helping them, and among them were more off worlds, the last ones the orcs had been such a huge boon to every so why not get more, really how long till they tried to kill everyone. The hafl elf it seemed was a member of the silver hand it seemed, Valria guessed Arthas must have missed him.

" I am Valria Dawnhold" Valria said with a smirk on her lips " And we would like you to help repair what one of the members of your illustrious order broke knight or at the very least clear it of his followers they have stayed much to long" She explained being brief but more taking a stab at the order that Arthas had once been a part of

 

[DapperCat]

location: Sunsail Anchorage - Docks
addresses/mentions: Xemanorth Karcen Sook Noble Scion Qwarkl
music:

Spoiler: Attire

Gwyllenal had awkwardly sat in a corner of the ship with her fellow Draenei. Not due to lack of social wishes, but because the looks they'd been given by some of the shipmen. It had been less than a year since they'd arrived on Azeroth. Though it had been awkward for the Draenei as well, the long years Gwyllenal herself had lived made her less surprised by new discoveries. It was both a blessing and a curse. But despite her normal lack of curiosity to new things, now she couldn't help but feel a little flutter in her stomach at the prospect of it all.

They chatted back and forth in Draenic, keeping their voices somewhat low but clear. Exchanging a smile here and there, as Gwyllenal's hands remained curled around the simple yet elegant staff she'd put upward before her.

The seats were so small- she was so big. Though she had plenty of insecurity about her physical appearance, this was just pushing it. Little elven boats, little people around her on the ship. If she didn't constantly think of being an example and vision of the Light, she'd currently try to shrink into herself.

When the ship docked, Gwyllenal felt the former flutter in her stomach turn to a twist. Never having been on water before. She swallowed it down, stepping elegantly albeit stiffly off of the ship toward the two elves awaiting the small group, her staff guiding her heavy hooved steps with a click.

With a short and seemingly uncomfortable bow the immensely tall Draenei greeted the elve-... Her brow lowered and tightened. Was that a demon? Not to mention barely clothed. Gwyllenal stiffened and pressed her lips thinly together, the Vindicator immediately shooting her a warning look. She knew she was told to try and keep her preaching to a limit- but this was too much to ask for.
Like a Goblin contraption waiting to explode, she silently listened to the elf - apparently called Coltherian Dawnwatcher - until he asked everyone to introduce themselves. She took one of the brooches he handed out, pale lips practically sucked in to make sure she didn't begin to lecture the abomination's wielder on his side. She stuffed it in a satchel, not wishing to take away from her ensemble completely devoted to her faith.

The first of their party, being Dawnwatcher, seemed to be a military man. He looked to be seasoned in battle and she had confidence he would know how to lead them onwards. She just hoped and prayed the woman on his side was not also one of their leaders. The second was an... elf as well? She had done her research in the short time they had been on Azeroth, but she did not recognise him as a 'Kaldorei' or 'Sin'dorei'. Though frankly, she had some trouble keeping those two apart as well.

But when he said he was a Paladin, Gwyllenal's features softened somewhat. Thank the Light, another definite good against the demonic abomination in their presence. Maybe he could help her convince the Vindicator and Dawnwatcher that the woman should be immed-....

She spotted another deathglare from her fellow Draenei whom had noticed Gwyl's not so subtle glances. Once both the Paladin and the Warlock had finished speaking - purposely ignoring the Warlock - she lowly but still audibly spoke in Draenic to her comrade.

"Me ur kiel te veni orah zila az man'ari? E kazile soran il kar naztheros teamanare." *
The Vindicator simply responded; "Shi." **

Gwyllenal took in a deep breath and put on a calm and soothing smile, though the corners of her lips were still a little tense. She straightened her form, leaning onto her staff as she tried to introduce herself.

"My name is Gwyllenal," she began, a heavy sharp accent to her words. She had some trouble pronouncing some of the softer Common-tongue. "E-... I mean "I", have come to aid my comrade and to heal those in need."

The woman was tall, though unknown to those present, even for Draenei. She hovered over the Vindicator, and had the height of most men in her race. She was donned in robes consisting of pale whites, light blues, metal trims and warm blue gems. She seemed to embody the Light in how she presented herself. Her eyes were a glowing white, and light lines were present under her eyes and at the corners of her lips. Her hair was as pale as her skin, tied up fancifully in a ponytail. The Draenei's body was an hourglass shape, with a chubby look to her.

"Though I tend to most of those in need, and all of those embraced by the Light, I must... mm..." she thought a moment, "confess that I cannot do so for a demon-supporter." The Vindicator was practically drilling holes in the back of Gwyllenal's head, but she tried to be as polite about it as possible. "My... apologies."

Her eyes lifted to specifically Dawnwatcher as she made her apology.


* "Do we have to work with such an abomination? I cannot stand by her repulsive practices."
** "Yes."

 

[Noble Scion]

Eira Turaldin

Spoiler: Appearance

Eira had been unable to get comfortable throughout the journey, partially because she didn't like the swaying of the ocean waves on boat trips, and partially because she didn't like leaving Stormwind, especially not to any elven provinces. Throughout the ride she'd been switching sporadically between checking her bowstring, counting her arrows and holding her head as she held down what the ocean was unsettling. She didn't care much for any other races personally, but if she was assigned as one of the human representatives, she wasn't going to sully their name.

It was quite plain to see that her, along with a number of the other humans were unsettling the locals from all the glaring she was receiving, which was somewhat bothersome considering they were here to aid them and their people. Eira didn't blame them for their opinions on her and her people, but that doesn't mean she had to be happy about it. For every passive aggressive eye she got, they received a sneer right back, which she didn't usually do, but it was better to show she wasn't about to let herself be mocked while risking her life for them.

Yes, maybe it was petty, but it wasn't like she had orchestrated, or even condoned what that monster Garithos did, yet here she was, paying for his actions. She definitely intended on watching own back, at least until she felt safe.

Finding herself along with a few others, she listened intently to their "leader" as he thanked them for their presence before handing them each a rather beautiful golden brooch., which she promptly tossed inside her quiver, safe alongside all of her carefully crafted arrows.

"Eira Turaldin, hunter, of Stormwind." she said begrudgingly to the two elves that had greeted them, the man who addressed himself as a paladin, whom she faintly recognized from the boat trip there. Her words also would've reached the draenei woman called "Gwyllenal" and another native blood elf known as "Valria".

She planned on talking more once they left the city on whatever their first destination was to be, but currently, she simply kept her back straight, her mouth shut and her eyes low. Her thoughts and opinions were to be her own, for now, but she had to admit, the declaration of the priestess openly refusing to heal another of their group was mildly worrisome.
Xemanorth DapperCat Qwarkl Karcen

 

[Sook]

What an incredible adventure this had been, and the adventure had not yet even started! Gyxa Overfuse had thought to herself as she returned from the ship that had taken her across the seas the call. Perhaps her choice to come and help was foolhardy, given how inexperienced Gyxa was in the world. But she would not have taken no for an answer. She was longing to prove herself, she felt as though the world needed to know her name. Gyxa wanted to save the day, she wanted to be a real HERO like she had always dreamed. The young Gnome had spent the whole trip rushing around the ship trying to get a good look at everything, making sure she missed absolutely nothing. She did not get seasick, as a matter of fact, she very much enjoyed the sea. She had seen a plethora of birds and sea creatures already that she had never seen before! What a RUSH!

Now it was finally time to depart, and Gyxa's excitement had been somewhat quenched with extreme nerves. She was being quiet now, just watching others, letting them file out first. When they all stood in line, Gyxa's little heart was beating so hard against her chest that she couldn't believe no one else could hear it. An elf named Coltherian Dawnwatcher recieved them as they stepped onto the shore. He greeted them with respect and asked that they keep the golden broaches that he handed out on them at all times. Gyxa grinned and quickly attached the broach to the left side of her soft deep blue, white and gold robe. She would wear it proudly, she decided.

Gyxa watched the group introduce themselves. First, a night of the silver hand. A very cool looking paladin, but he looked DREADFULLY dull. Not that that really mattered right now but the thought did cross her mind. Her people tended to be a little more... vibrant... loud mouthed. Gyxa was considered quiet there. Next to him stood an absolutely gorgeous young thing. She was dressed in a sultry way and every word simply dripped with poison laced honey. She was... scary to say the least. Gyxa kept her eyes cast away from her when she thought she might be looking. The Gnome definitely got a chill down her spine after looking Miss Valria over. Next was a mystical creature. She had never met a Draenai before today. This one was a healer! She'd always been amazed by Draenai, and just how long they had on this planet. Plus, they were so... cool! Unfortunately, this one clearly already had a negative opinion of her fellow teammember, flat out refusing to heal her if she were to be in need "You cannot hope to succeed if you do not help your team mates." She blurted out suddenly after Gwyllenal. There was a slight hush after she blurted in. Gyxa reddened and covered her mouth "Sorry. Sorry." She muttered and promptly shut up. Luckily there was another introduction quickly given by a hunter to break the silence. then it was back to the Gnome.

"Um, yes, Hi, hello" She said in her best common-tongue, feeling just a little queasy with nerves, especially after her slight outburst. "My name is Gyxa Overfuse, I am a mage and I am here to help in any way I can!" She said positively, grinning from ear to ear despite the fact that she felt mildly intimidated. Okay... majorly intimidated.

 

[Xemanorth]

The introductions went about as well as one might expect given the diverse and even conflicting nature of the group that was now gathered on the white stone docks of the Anchorage. Coltherian's expression was tense, his jaw clenching itself behind his lips, his lips shifting to the side of his face in an expression that probably said more than the elf would ever honestly express with words, the message was clear though never spoken, a firm, resigned: "Oh boy.".

But yet again, this was to be expected, sanding and smoothing out the numerous kinks, challenges and rough patches of the group's dynamic was what he was there for, aside from acting as a representative for his people. Why they had chosen him for this task, he had no clue, but he'd never question an order and he only had to assume that many of those more talented in the pursuit of such endeavors had either met their end or were busy currying political favor and reaching for seats of power far beyond what they might reach under more usual circumstances.

The stern gaze of the elf had paused over each of the people he'd handed a brooch off to as he passed by and as he pulled to a stop before them to address them all. His experienced gaze appraising their apparent capabilities and individual fields of focus, while trying to get a vague read on their personalities as well. It was due in part of this inexperience and lack of expertise that he was glad that Orlan, the half-elf, had asked him a question that he could answer with some form of confidence.

"We children of Quel'thalas are a very distant people. Our bonds with other races have been thin at the best of times and we only rarely have lended our assistance to forces outside our kingdom, and even then mostly in the form of token forces. Even when we taught the use of arcane magic to the humans, we only taught them the most basic of necessities. That unwillingness to lend aid and to call on it, all stems from mistrust, a type of xenophobia passed onto us from our ancestors, dating back to the exile of my people for our use of arcane magic millenia ago. We are, and always have been, a proud people. To admit that we have been rendered weak, most of our existence culled from the face of Azeroth, is a near insurmountable task, especially for the staunch traditionalists that lead us. The actions of people like one Garithos only act as a confirmation for their bias in their minds, and further ushers them down the path of willing, haughty pride and ignorance. Desperate times, as these are viewed, call for desperate measures. Terrible as the tragedies that have faced our kingdom as of late have been, I for one am grateful, that at the very least at the end of it all, their arms have been twisted and closed minds opened to the idea, that we may just have to depend on other people, even if for something as base as our own survival.".

The elf clearly had a lot to say on the matter. That or he simply liked to hear himself talk. Whatever the case may have been, he displayed an expression most curious on his features. Though it was subtle, something about the man's gaze indicated that he was, at least on some level, honestly excited by all of this. Though one could argue that such a reaction in the face of challenges was a clear indication of insanity, perhaps it was just this kind of person that the kingdom needed to raise itself from the ashes of destruction once more.

Whatever excitement may have bubbled to the surface from inside Coltherian was quickly brought once again to heel however, as a scout, one of the farstriders approached the group. "Captain Dawnwatcher, a small group of undead is advancing up The Dead Scar." "How many in total?" "But a small force, about six or seven, should I inform the other rangers stationed around southern Eversong?" "Perhaps... not. We will take care of it. Return to your post, we need as many eyes on these lands as possible, to keep us informed of any brewing trouble." "Aye, sir." The exchange between the two was quick, and despite the fact that Farstriders usually operated on their own volition, it was clear that this one in particular showed some amount of respect for the captain's authority, despite having little official need to, leaving the Captain a note upon his departure, on which was marked the exact position of the enemy, one presumed.

"An opportunity to gain some measure of our abilities if ever there was one." Coltherian said, turning on his heel to address the group. "What say you? Are we ready to raise spell, blade, bow and staff in defense of the kingdom?" The elf asked, mainly out of courtesy. It was likely that the new arrivals had little choice but to participate in this impromptu combat exercise. The question remained, how would they react to receiving such an order when they have been but barely introduced to one another and have had the opportunity to enjoy stable ground beneath their feet for what was at most about five to ten minutes for the first time in a while.
( Sook , Noble Scion , DapperCat , Karcen , Qwarkl )

Spoiler: A map, marked with the party's current position

View attachment 599269

 

[Noble Scion]

Eira Turaldin

Spoiler: Appearance

The gnome's appearance was appreciated as she tried to de-escalate the the fight between the draenei, whom she was trying not to goggle at considering she'd never seen one in person before, and had most certainly not expected them to be quite so tall, as tall as a tauren, as far as she knew, and they were behemoths! Standing next to one, they were quite intimidating if she had to be honest, while the one called Gyxa was the opposite and very much the smallest of their team, leaving her now second-last in height, but mages were always something to be taken with caution.

Eira , who had primarily been keeping her head down to avoid the looks from miffed natives, suddenly lifted her head to look at Coltherian in mild annoyance. "Your nation is under attack, and you request help from all the nations in the world, even us" she began, seemingly have found her tongue, pointing to herself as a human before continuing ".. And you're tasking us with dealing with a couple of shambling undead? To test me? Unbelievable..." she fumed, her words hanging in the air as she tensed up even more. It felt like she was being mocked by someone she didn't even know, who didn't even know her, and she couldn't let that lie.

After her little outburst, she simply folded her arms and glared at the man. She didn't care about the bickering that was going on with the priestess and the warlock now that their 'first assignment' had been given. Her eyebrows knitted together as she tapped her foot impatiently. Her opinion of these people were not exactly very high with how she'd been greeted so far, it had to be said.

".. I am insulted that you suspect my skills to be so lowly, but if it pleases you, I'll help." she grumbled after letting the silence settle, before returning to her original stance, now featuring a mildly upset frown, unintentionally seeming more saddened than imposing.
Xemanorth DapperCat Qwarkl Karcen Sook

 

[Qwarkl]

Orlan Swiftbreeze
Sunsail Anchorage

Orlan nodded towards Valria Dawnhold as the sin'dorei woman addressed him. Her words rang with a hint of truth. Arthas Menethil had once been a paladin of the Silver Hand, and his betrayal was infamous. The destruction of a kingdom and the decimation of another have the tendency to breed resentment. However, Orlan could not help but marvel at the inconsistency of the warlock's logic. Athas and his Scourge Army had wrought devastation, and ultimately brought the return of the Archimonde and the demonspawn of the Burning Legion. And here this elf stood with a demon in tow. She toyed with powers beyond her control and they would break loose, the only way to control a demon was to banish it. Orlan contained his insights to himself and replied curtly and briefly. "I would be happy to aid in the restoration of Quel'thalas. However...," The paladin turned his gaze to the scantily clad succubus, "the undead may not be the only terrors plaguing your realm."

The rest of those assembled on the sun soaked dock began to introduce themselves. A woman hunter from Stormwind, perhaps he could find a moment to speak to her later. It had been years since he had left Northshire and he often found his thoughts drifting back to the abbey. There was also a gnome. Orlan had spent his time among the dwarves of Ironforge and due to their proximity he had met his fair share of gnomes. Overall they were an energetic people Orlan both admired and questioned that characteristic. On one hand they were quick to action and seemed to be focused on their current tasks. But, it also went in the face of the dedicated life that Orlan led. Faith and the light were not always quick to answer. Long hours before the altar and on the training grounds had taught Orlan that dedication required time. And that time was mostly uneventful. He wondered if this gnome was any different.

Most intriguing to Orlan were the strangers. He did not recognize them. They were not elves and they were not trolls. They certainly were not men or dwarves. They must have come from across the sea, from Kalimdor. Orlan had never been beyond the sea so he did not know what manner of people lived there. But, what he did know was that they both radiated with the light. His heart was gladdened to see that there were other faithful in this group. If nothing else, Orlan was sure he could rely on them.

That may quickly be put to the test, as a ranger approached with message. Undead were moving in force. Instinctively, Orlan rested his hand on the scabbard of his blade. He was honor bound to remove remnants of the Scourge wherever he found them. As such he was prepared to fight the undead, even if their numbers were less than impressive. "Lead the way, Captain Dawnwatcher."

 

[Karcen]

Valria mostly ignored the priestess it seemed that race had a stick up their butts when it came to demons, well most people did as well demons were dangerous but Valria knew how to bind them if one was careful they could summon and bind a demon properly. She could not expect everyone to be as accepting as those of silvermoon were of the use of Fel magi, they were rightfully scared of the power it could bring to one with the will to control it. Valria might have tried to explain this but she really didn't feel like it as the half elf seemed almost as bad as the healer that would refuse to heal someone, luckily Valria didn't need her. the team it seemed was stacked against her only the gnome tried to defend her use of demons, or at least she should get healing.

" Why thank you my dear but i have ways of healing myself" Valria said looking to the gnome with a smile not acknowledging the priestess. She then looked to her demon " And you are harmless aren't my my dear?" She asked the till now quiet demon

" i would never harm you mistress only those you let me" She succubus said her voice sounding almost like a maiden in love with the person she spoke to.

Valria mostly ignore the archer that was protecting the test, but well they all needed to be tested some to make sure they wouldn't break at the first sight of the undead. Fighting the living and the dead was very different the elves had learned that the hard way. They brought with them a fear that could shake battle hardened hearts and some were truly things of nightmares far worse than any demon.

 

[DapperCat]

location: Sunsail Anchorage - Docks
addresses/mentions: Xemanorth Karcen Sook Noble Scion Qwarkl
music: x

Spoiler: Attire

As a human and gnome joined the group, Gwyllenal respectively dipped her head to them. With her immense height she looked quite intimidating. Something that often got in the way even within her own kind when she wished to help or heal someone. Even though frankly, there wasn't anything terrifying about her. Gwyl was a pacifist whenever she could afford to be. But she knew well enough after what the Orcs had done and what her people had gone through, that that was not always the path to take.

"You cannot hope to succeed if you do not help your team mates."

The Draenei's hairless brows lifted in slight surprise at the Gnome, but a smile swiftly curled her pale lips when she immediately apologized. From the research she had been able to do before coming, Gnomes were quite the quirky race. She could appreciate that.

"I apologize belan*. But to aid those with the dark I betray the Light. I can stand beside them, but will not actively help them."

The two newcomers introduced themselves while the Priestess silently looked over each of their group. Two brawn wasn't as many as she was used to, her kind usually either taking the path of the Paladin or the Acolyte. But she recognized the bow and staff would come in helpful against groups and distances.

Another Sin'dorei stepped forth to speak to the group's new leader, and Gwyllenal noticed her comrade looking them over in suspicion. She herself did not outwardly distrust the elves, but nor did she trust them. She wished to judge each of them on their own merit, not lump them all in with those that had sabotaged their ship. It was the right thing to do. But of course, there was an amount of pain at the memory of the wounded and dead from the crash. She phased out a short moment, until the Captain spoke up.

"What say you? Are we ready to raise spell, blade, bow and staff in defense of the kingdom?"

Gwyllenal straightened her tall form, holding her staff functioning as a cane in both hands as she gave a swift nod. She was here to heal and aid, there was no doubt in her mind to do what she came here for.

"E am here to provide shields, medical attention and perhaps minor offensive spells when I can."

The human woman objected to the tone she was given by the Sin'dorei. Granted, his tone was dry and seemingly careless. So she tried to do what she did best to aid Eira's confidence.

"E-... -I- am certain we will need your..." she thought, seemingly struggling with the Common word; "... skills with a bow. It is incredibly useful to be able to hit many in a short span, and from a distance."

When the Paladin spoke, Gwyllenal felt another feeling of relief. Just to know that when it came down to it, it was not just her against the demonic abomination. Certainly her Vindicator comrade was with her- but she also knew her mission. And she knew she had to stay more in the background of it all to succeed it. She didn't speak her stance, but did glance to Orlan in a calm but knowing fashion. A silent agreement.

But when the female Sin'dorei spoke to her ungodly creation, Gwyllenal felt a shudder run up her spine. The way the elf spoke almost endearingly to it, and how -it- replied with some false sense of human emotion. A nice charade to be sure, but not one she would allow the others to fall victim to.

* "Child."

 

[Mistrunner]

“Captain,” a masculine voice spoke with a hollow echo, “a thousand pardons for my tardiness and interruption.”

The owner of the apology had approached the dock from the land. He was a slender spellcaster, cloaked in a black hooded shawl with ornate, purple filigrees embroidered upon the fabric. His face, mostly obscured by the shawl, was pale and gaunt. His eyes were illuminated by a yellow glow and shadowed by the dark circles of sleeplessness.

As he walked his movements were supported by a black staff that was embellished with creeping tendrils that had been carved from a single source of wood. The tendrils rested at the top, enthroning a small purple flame of shadow magic.

Using the staff, he lowered in a slight bow of humble recognition of those already gathered. “My associates and I were delivering supplies to the village. Compliments of Lady Windrunner.” The crook of his mouth turned into a half-smile and he looked over the group before raising.

The elves were to be expected, even the humans... no, one human, one half-breed and a... what-in-the-fel is that thing? The forsaken kept his eyes on the pair of Draenei, especially the one whom was speaking when he approached.

 

[Xemanorth]

Coltherian quirked a brow at the hunter's reaction. "While an official statement, alongside your own account of your capabilities is well and good. Experience has taught me not to take someone at their word, specifically in regards to combat capability. While a stray group of undead may seem like a paultry task to deal with, I can assure you, there are far greater threats in these lands..." The Captain paused, offering Orlan a subtle glance, as if in silent agreement in regards to the fact that tempting fate and toying with Fel magics could lead to an ill fate. "And in preparation for said threats, I need to be keenly aware of the capabilities of each and every one of you. To know what you are capable of, to know how well you perform under pressure, even your personal preferences, arbitrary as they may seem in relation to combat. That way I can plan accordingly, and place you in positions and provide you with tasks that bring out the best in you, improving both our chances of success, as well as survival.".

The Captain paused once more, taking in a deep breath as he brought a hand to his chin and jawline, stroking over his features in a manner most inquisitive, as well as sinister, given the words that left his lips mere moments later. "I expect us all to become intimately familiar with one another during the course of our time together." He allowed that profoundly awkwardly worded thought to linger in the air a short while, just so each and every one of those gathered had an opportunity to think about his implications before making his way over and handing a golden brooch, similar to that of the others, to Losdir. "Now, I suggest we will depart immediately, as the sooner this is over, the sooner I can show you to your temporary accomodations." He continued, turning on his heel before beginning to march down along the dock, toward the lush greenery in the distance. He was silent most of the trip, not one for small-talk. Two of the group, the gnome mage and the draenei vindicator exchanged some murmured words with the Captain before separating from the group, apparently to attend some manner of meeting.

Coltherian lead the group into the woods, his mind busy with assessing the group he'd just received at the docks. The hunter, Eira, seemed sure of herself, however such attitudes were far from uncommon among humans, young and filled with overconfidence as they were. Orlan, the Knight of the Silver Hand seemed to have a good head about his shoulders, while he'd not displayed outright aggression toward Valria, he understood where he was coming from, and felt that he was right to worry about reckless use of fel magic, whether or not that would apply to the elf. That lead his thoughts to Valria, whom he did not know all too well, but came recommended as capable, if a bit inexperienced but nevertheless eager to delve into the protected, oftentimes dangerous secrets behind the usage of Fel magic. Why she'd opted to call a succubus to her side during a first meeting, he had absolutely no idea. And the lustful hoofed, horned and tailed menace in turn lead the Captain's thoughts to the two draenei, while they appeared to be on the opposite side of the spectrum in regards to their worship of the Light, as well as chosen presentation, the aforementioned anatomical similarities were still distracting, a most alien sight to behold.

As the group traversed off the grounds of the Anchorage and deeper into the woods, they could denote the lush, spring nature of the area beginning to shift abruptly. At first, it began with a dead tree here and there but soon the ground began to sink, its soil dead and devoid of color, more akin to ash than natural ground of Azeroth. A foreboding smell lingered in the air, one of rot and sulfur and beneath the dead soil, one could see the occasional bone or skull partially exposed. There was no doubt about it. The group had arrived at the Dead Scar, yet their enemy was nowhere to be seen...

 

[Qwarkl]

Orlan Swiftbreeze
Eversong Woods

Orlan's gaze fell on the new arrival. The shambling corpse came wandering towards the group. Orlan knew enough to keep his blade sheathed. What stood before him had been a victim of the Plague of Undeath. But, unlike the terrors that haunted the Eastweald this corpse had broken free and joined with that strange society under the ruins of Lordaeron. While they may not be as abhorrent and opposed to life as they mindless hordes of the scourge, these Forsaken were still creatures worthy of pity, torn from their eternal rest and bound to walk in the living world for Light knows how long. But, for the time they remained opponents of the Scourge. This was enough for Orlan to remain at peace with these corpses, until they returned to the savage employ of their master. Orlan resolved to keep an eye on this stranger. He and the warlock may prove dangerous in the days to come.

Orlan nodded along as the Captain led his group away from the water and towards the foliage of Eversong Woods. Orlan took in the surrounding sights. The trees were covered in their eternal autumnal shades and the breeze blew ever so softly. Orlan was drawn back to the tales his father had told him when he was young. The history of the the kingdom of Quel'thalas and the Quel'dorei, the founding of the nation and the eternal struggle against the Amani trolls, the bravery of the Farstriders and the line of Windrunner Ranger-Generals who guarded the kingdom, and the skill of the Magisters who raised powerful wards and looming towers with their arcane mastery. But, the days of the Quel'dorei were over, only a handful of exiles still clung to the old name and culture. Now, only the old growth of Eversong recalled the splendor of the high elves.

Orlan found himself travelling next to the towering priestess. He nodded to her. "Greetings, lady Gwyllenal." his tongue twisting to pronounce the name. "My heart was gladdened to find another servant of the Light here." He was silent for a moment contemplating how best to broach the subject. "Forgive me for prying but, I have never seen any like you or your companion. Do you come from Kalimdor?"

Interactions: DapperCat

 

[DapperCat]

location: Eversong Woods - The Dead Scar
addresses/mentions: Xemanorth Karcen Qwarkl Mistrunner
music: x

Spoiler: Attire

Gwyllenal's look of disgust aimed at the Succubus was peeled away by a new voice. Her glowing white eyes found what was, if research did not betray her, a 'Forsaken'. The Draenei's lips pulled to a thin line. His ensemble hinted to something- yes. The little purple flame was the last indicator she needed.

Her expression stiffened. The Warlock was still by far the worst, but after what happened to L'ura... Her gaze cast down to the ground, the Vindicator beside her looking stricken as well. But the Forsaken could not know that. So for now- she had to refrain from making judgments. Even if the memory hurt. She dipped her head, face still tormented, but remained silent further. She did not know who Lady Windrunner was.

When her comrade left the group together with the Gnome, she was equal parts relieved and worried. To have one less against the possible destruction of this... this...- /thing/. She glanced at the Succubus, deep in thought. But on the other hand, she wouldn't be glared at for every single thing she expressed. Expressed with good reason, even! All for the benefit of the Light after all.

"Now, I suggest we will depart immediately, as the sooner this is over, the sooner I can show you to your temporary accommodations."

She took the focused words of the Sin'dorei with both hands, eager to put her mind to something after the horrid memories had flooded her thoughts. Her hooves began to take careful steps beside the group, making sure to not be too swift. Though she soon found out that her age had made that a useless worry- these youngsters were quick.

When the Sin'dorei looked her way, she gave him her best calm smile. But the corners of her lips remained taut. They only parted ever so slightly when a voice called out to her.

"Greetings, lady Gwyllenal. My heart was gladdened to find another servant of the Light here. Forgive me for prying but, I have never seen any like you or your companion. Do you come from Kalimdor?"

The tall Draenei considered his words, blinking a time or two as she began to explain. But it was quite evident that the title he addressed her by, bought him some benara* points.

"Humble greetings, me belan.* I do not know what... Kalendor is. My species' is originally from Argus," she spoke, voice struggling with the Common tongue, "But I myself was born aboard the Genedar."

She glanced toward Colt a moment, seeing if that sparked any response considering the tampering his species had done. But after, she glanced to Valria, a much longer time. Clearly very suspicious of the woman. She tried her utmost best to avoid looking at the monstrosity trotting beside her.

"We have... traveled from another world. Though I have not seen our own world, I have seen the second we have landed on. But now, we are-... maez***."

The woman pointed a large marble finger to the ground as they walked, her staff loyally clicking away beside her.

* "benara" - equivalent to brownie/cookie.
** "my child"
*** "here"

 

[Karcen]

Valria had little to say to the others her magic was less tolerated in other places though in silvermoon it had become accepted thanks to her people's need to drain magic from something. Valria would occasionally whisper with her succubus over certain matters and translations. Valria found the answers interesting though as these were the worlds of a demon she knew to take them with a grain of salt only because the demon was bound, if unbound you took every syllable with a mound of salt. The eredar in the group where both interesting but annoying and she did not know why aliens like them were allowed here if they were just going to preach to others. Valria also knew that many others were oddly favorable towards helping the horde given who lead the forsaken. At the dread scar Valria did wonder where the undead were they were always lurking about and no matter how many you killed there were always more, maybe if druids and priests healed the land this scar would go. Still they could be invisible many scourge were invisible so just because they weren't seen didn't mean they weren't around.

" Think they are below or unseen?" Valria asked the only other elf in the group he would understand what she meant if the undead were below the ground waiting or invisible and waiting.

 

[Xemanorth]

"Unlikely, unless they've got someone heading their forces." Coltherian said in response to Valria. "Do not discount the possibility, however." He warned both his kinswoman as well as the others gathered. The prospect of hidden enemies made the air around the group much heavier and far more foreboding. The group's surroundings were motionless, still, save for the gentle breeze that swept up particles of ash with it, swirling ribbons of it through the air.

Far in the distance, beyond the reach of spell or bow and the eyesight of all but the most keen, a silhouette rises atop the crest of a faraway hill, flanked by the dead trees of the Ghostlands. While members of the group may not have been able to see the figure, they could most certainly sense what was to come. The unmistakeable presence of shadow magic began to seep into their surroundings, unseen yet unavoidable to feel.

The spell served as a simple nudge to the undead that lay in wait, beneath the soil as Valria had guessed. The ashen figures of the undead, skeleton and zombie alike began to raise and shamble, soil and ash dropping in clumps to the floor below, accompanied by hollow rattles and dread filled groans. Their collective forms tremble and shiver, brought to life by unholy magics. They cluth weapons in hand, simple, worn and rusted ones but no less dangerous when wielded by unholy strength. Eight rise in total, matching and even exceeding the group of adventurers in number. Finally, one points their blade at the group before beginning their attack!

While the undead are slow moving, they now surround the group in a fairly spacious circle, many of them can be easily intercepted, if one so wishes, from reaching their intended targets. However, if their numbers are not swiftly thinned, they may threaten to overrun the guardians of Quel'thalas, those fresh off the boat and otherwise.

 

[DapperCat]

location: Eversong Woods - The Dead Scar
addresses/mentions: Xemanorth Karcen Qwarkl Mistrunner Noble Scion
music: x

Spoiler: Attire

Gwyllenal let her mind float a little with the conversation with the Paladin beside her. She had to try very hard moments later however, as she heard the Warlock speak to the monstrosity she'd summoned.

Block it out. Block it out.

She kept on a forced smile as the group pulled to a stop, staying a fair bit behind most of them. If anything were to happen, she'd be best at the back of the combat. She was far from swift or had high defenses.

When their Sin'dorei leader warned them about the Warlock's suggestion, the Draenei's eyes flicked to the ground. She curled both of her hands around her staff in preparation. At the edge of her senses, she could feel a creeping darkness. Nagging, scratching.

"I feel darker magic," she muttered, loud enough to hear for the group but soft enough to keep away from others but their own.

Just as she'd uttered that, she could feel the rumbling of the earth underneath her hooves. Immediately her lips parted, chanting in Draenic as a soft golden glow shimmered from her fingertips. But her spell, whatever it had been, was swiftly interrupted by something that made the little hairs on her neck stand on end.

"H-eep!"

Her exclamation was oh so feminine, yet what followed was the opposite. She raised one of her immense hooves, her tail stiffening at the motion as she lifted her dress. With a ferocious, seemingly extremely painful motion she slammed the bottom of her hoof onto whatever was rising up from out of the soil. And she repeated it one, two more times!

"Azgala Man'ari! Kiel! Kiel! Lok kiel!!" *

*Profanity

 

[Noble Scion]

Eira Turaldin

Spoiler: Appearance

The noble huntress had remained quiet on their travel to the empty plains they now stood upon, still finding the rather trivial task rather rude, even if it did make sense. Perhaps the outburst had been a result of her nerves being surrounded by blood elves, a race that had made it quite clear that they did not wish to spend time bolstering the relations between their peoples.

Those nerves were still there, given that she was still in their country and had elven companions, but she seemed rather more relaxed out in the open, even as the unfamiliar sense of dark magics washed over the surrounding area.

She noticed a small dark bump in the distance that assumed was a person, but was difficult to see clearly from such a distance, leaving her only with ideas of what that could mean. Nothing concrete enough that she felt the need to mention to the others of their party, choosing to focus her attention on the much more pressing and noticeable notion of shambling undead waddling towards them with an unfamiliar dark and disgusting scent that forced her to swallow down her lunch. It didn't help that she was still feeling a little queasy after that boat trip.

Taking in a breath of the sickly-sweet air, she slid an arrow out of her quiver, nocked it, and pulled the string back and launched the projectile at the closest of the slow-moving undead's head before releasing the breath she'd been holding. There didn't appear to be a need to tell the others she was opening fire considering time was of the essence.

Watching corpses move was very unpleasant for her, but thankfully for her, the draenei seemed much quicker to voice their opinions on the matter so she didn't have to. "Unnatural things. Best we put them back on the ground." she said in an attempt to convince herself and whoever else might be listening to keep calm, yet the undeniable shake in her voice seemed to lessen the impact of her words.

Moving on to her next arrow, she went to fire once more.
Xemanorth DapperCat Qwarkl Karcen Mistrunner

 

[Karcen]

There was little need to panic for Valria as the blood elves had been through much worse than even this large a group of undead as this was the dread scar where the undead were endless. Still it was funny to see the priestess get so very worked up over a few coming up from the ground as if this was not what she had signed up for. The light was powerful against the undead and the fel and thus the priestess should have less to worry about as anything she did would burn away the undead for long as her strength kept up. Still the deaths the group might inflict were likely temporary if what some rumors said about the scar were true, a eternal dark stain on the land forever spewing forth the living dead. Still anything would be better than the current situation. Well Valria could not just stand back here and let her mind wander off on ifs and maybes.

" Be a dear and go distract those undead" Valria told her succubus who gave her a pleading look before heading off towards the undead. The demon while entertaining meant little to Valria on a personal level they were meant to be bound and sacrificed then summoned again as needed so the demons would bound forward and start using her fearsome whip to strike the undead. " i should h ave brought the voidwalker, they make decent shields" Valria commented before starting to curse the undead with the curse of agony almost instantly moving from one tot he next. The spell would normally cause great pain but these were undead so maybe it would shatter bones or something.

 

[Xemanorth]

Even as the undead began to rise both in front as well as around the group, Coltherian appeared far from surprised, or worried for that matter, almost as if ignorant to their presence while his gaze lingered in the distance, narrowing itself toward the silhouette. His gaze then proceeded to bounce between the members of the group, keeping an eye on their reactions and appraising them. Gwyllenal's reaction, while surprised, yielded quite a bit in the way of results. The blunt, crushing impact of her feet against the spine and skull of the skeleton rendered it useless almost as soon as the battle began.

Eira's arrows found their mark as well. Unfortunately however, the undead they were facing were mostly decomposed and of the skeletal variety. The ranger's arrows pierce the skull of the skeleton, filling one empty eye socket and then the other and with each hit the skeleton stumbled backward, its limbs flailing uselessly and its balance failing it. Despite that however, the exact damage of the arrows left a lot to be desired, as it became clear that despite the accurate hits, the skeleton was far from dead and in fact began to push itself up from the ground almost as soon as its boney hips had hit it, albeit slowly.

Valria's efforts meanwhile rendered the skeleton's weaker, their bones growing brittle, and as a result of her efforts, the skull of Eira's target crumbles to pieces as it tries to push itself back up, the rest of it follows suit immediately after falling with a clatter of bones. A succubus had limited use against the undead meanwhile, it had no real chance to practice its feminine wiles or charms on such mindless creatures, the whip she wielded on the other hand proved much more useful! The succubus lashed out, the barbed measurement of leather wrapping itself around one of the femur's of an approaching skeleton. With a swift yank, it was popped out of its socket and practically came off flying. Another skeleton fell, not slain, but the threat it would pose was for the most part negated for the time being.

The succubus positioned itself away from the group and used the shadow magic instilled in their frames to her advantage, calling on it like a leash to slowly attract the skeletons toward her own position. The four remaining that could still walk, or rather, shamble, began their approach. "Luckily we've re-inforcements of our own." Coltherian stated before bringing a gauntleted hand to his lips and letting loose a sharp whistle, which served as a signal for an as of yet unknown force...

( DapperCat , Noble Scion , Karcen , Epiphany , Qwarkl , Orikanyo )

 

[Epiphany]

At the call of the whistle, suddenly another ambush was revealed!

One of the nearby trees, next to the cluster of skeletons, suddenly quivered. And in a moment, the bark was shed, spilling into the air and across the ruined soil, revealing a sundered frame for supporting the faux structure. Standing in the midst of that now destroyed frame was a tall, powerfully built orc. So enormously muscled, he clearly didn't bother with armor for who could make metal capable of restraining such mighty thews?

Perched on his shoulders, the cloaked, hooded figure of a child straightened and drew two knives. "I told you this would work," she said, revealing the voice and face of a woman, not a child, marking her as one of the Dwarven people. As the remannts of the tree tumbled in all directions, the Dwarf used her Orc as a launching pad and hurled herself out into the air. Knives flashed in the dull light of day, parting the debris-strewn air. And then her descent took her squarely into the back of one of the skeletons. She dropped to the ground, dragging her blades all the way down with her, sundering tough bone with razor-sharp edges and her own tightly muscled weight.

"Your turn, my friend!" she called out to the Orc.
Orikanyo

 

[Orikanyo]

"Little one has much strong legs, though small, very mighty." The orc spoke out, as his own que was nigh.

He was unsure about the whole "pretend to be a tree" plan, he wasn't even certain how she managed to turn them both into a tree with all that bark and wood. But she did it, and all through that he couldn't move lest the whole thing shatter. Which was hard enough, hold one's arms up in a tree-ish shape is tiring, he had new respect for trees in that regard, but the worst part was having an itch directly on his left ass cheek the whole time, and he was pretty certain it was coming from a piece of wood that constantly was poking him.

It was a strange kind of torture, but he'd imagine the small folks like her liked that sort of thing, why else would they be so proficent in tree disguising? Wait, was it purple elves or dwarves that hide in trees? Didn't matter to Rogindral in the end, both were fine, in many ways of the word.

Dwarf or tree elf? That was a good question... Tree elves, or whatever they preferred to be called, were lithe and feisty, like rutting a tigeress but less cuddling after. He'd imagine the dwarf having more stamina, heft, he certainly felt it when his "friend" was atop of him. Small, yet heavy.

What was he suppoused to do?

Ah yes, nearly forgot.

With massive hammer raised he rushed forward with the fury known to many an orc, a fertive mixture of endorphine/adrenaline infused yelling in his native tongue and a desire to show off infront of the new people.

"We crush you!"

His own eloquence astounds him sometimes!

 

[Xemanorth]

With the arrival of Chise and Rogindral, two more skeletons were swiftly dealt with. The former lashed and dragged her knife along the skeleton's brittle spine, seperating its ribcage from its limbs before the rest of its figure was brought low, clattering to the ground under the weight of the leaping dwarf. The latter on the other hand was promptly crushed and decimated by a single swing of Logindral's hammer which sent chips, bits and pieces of crushed bone flying through the air, thankfully at not such a velocity so as to harm any who stood in their path but regardless, the sheer force of the blow was impressive to say the least.

Coltherian was pleased by the promise the party had shown in their short encounter thus far, keeping an eye on the situation all throughout the exchange between the new arrivals and the local undead. Two skeletons were still left, however, one left crawling along the floor and the other still armed and standing. The elf moved to position himself between the two skeletons, his chest facing the upright one, yet curiously he did not draw his blade even as the creature neared. As it turned out, the elf was experienced in dealing with the simple minded creatures.

The last skeleton that remained standing lunged at the elf with a hollow rattle, swinging its blade at the elf with a powerful, albeit telegraphed overhand slash. Coltherian, who had for the most part remained passive and pondersome in his movements snapped into action in tandem with the skeleton, moving with a swiftness thus far unprecedented by the elven warrior. He moved into his opponent's reach in one switch motion and by the time the blade had fallen down to find its mark, he'd already passed beneath it, the wrist of the skeleton striking the elf's shoulderplate instead of the blade. "Predictable." Coltherian mumbled beneath his breath, there was fierce amount of contempt in his tone. He didn't much enjoy fighting undead for they did not have an understanding or appreciation for the art of war.

Ever eager to teach and enlighten the ignorant, the elf proceeded to strike one of his palms up underneath the base of the skeleton's arm, using it as well as his own plated body as leverage before flipping the creature over his back and neatly, as it happened, on top of the other skeleton that was left crawling on account of Valria's succubus. The pair of skeletons were so neatly stacked in wake of the throw that one had to wonder whether this had all been intentional. Coincidence or not, the elf proceeded to raise one of his plate boots into the air before bringing it down on top of the skeleton's skulls. Their structure, weakened by Valria's magic, proved easy enough to crush underfoot.

A mere second later, the elf breathed out a sigh through his nostrils. "Well then, I believe introductions are in order. Chise and Rogindral, meet the rest of your group." He said, motioning between the pair and the other combatants. Despite the relative smoothness of the encounter however, the group had not managed to get by completely unscathed. Coltherian brought his gauntleted fingertips up under his plated shoulder, massaging it to the best of his ability through the armor as his gaze turned to the location of the silhouette in the distance, which had by now, disappeared out of sight.

 

[DapperCat]

location: Eversong Woods - The Dead Scar
addresses/mentions: Xemanorth Karcen Qwarkl Mistrunner Noble Scion Epiphany Orikanyo
music: x

Spoiler: Attire

Feeling the sickening crunch under her massive hoof, Gwyl felt a shiver run up her spine. It hadn't been the first time she'd used force - albeit very rarely - but it never got easier to see the consequences. Not even on Undead or demons.

She shook her hoof, feeling some fragments of old bone slipping off. The large woman planted both of her hooves on the ground, holding her staff with both hands as she witnessed the rest of the battlefield. None seemed to be in need of shields or healing.

But one could never be too sure, and so, the Draenei began to mutter in under her breath in her native tongue. Both sets of fingers curled around the simple staff before her, each fingertip glowing softly with a warm golden.

Two more joined the chaos, apparently comrades, but more she could not focus on. She kept her chanting, waiting as her eyes scanned around her to see if anyone were in need of aid. None other than their leader seemed to be the one to need it.

Unknowing of Colt's plan, she flexed her long fingers out toward him as her voice picked up a little to a normal volume. With more Draenic, a soft golden glow surrounded the man's form. She could not manage a full shield in this short time, and with the small distance between him and the skeletons. But the least she could do, was make sure that no swords could impale him right now. But punches and bruising was still something that could happen to him.

Little did the poor Priestess know, that this was the man's idea of a good time in combat... he was not in actual need. With the soft glow around him, he swiftly stepped aside and made short work of the now scrambled skeletons.

Gwyllenal blinked her glowing ivory eyes. What a show-off.

As if time passed in a blur around her, she suddenly found herself told to introduce herself to the two new arrivals; a Dwarf and-... Her brows knit into a frown, trying to keep a neutral expression. An Orc. This was another, different planet. Orcs here could be- and as information had told her, usually are quite different. She would do her best to treat him with a clean slate.

The tall woman, likely towering over all present, bowed stiffly with aid of her staff.

"My name is Gwyllenal, Priestess of the Light. It is a therami-... I mean- 'plesur', to meet you."