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Old 10-15-2008, 06:53 AM
Lord of Azeroth Lord of Azeroth is offline

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Default Terror of the Tides: The Gilneas War [Fanfic]

Prologue

In a dark chamber underneath a terrible fortress on a small island forgotten by the rest of the world, a council met. One was tall, a black cloak draped over the right side of his body, his face hooded, his green eyes shining in the darkness. Then he walked into the dim light, and it became visible that the right side of his face was hidden under a red mask, only the glowing green eyes visible. He wore a long black cloak with a lining of red and gold, and wielded a long sword in his left hand, a dagger burning with evil flame at his side. His long pointed ears poked out of his hood, and he had no expression on his face.

Another wore long robes, dark green, with arcane sigils woven in, seeming to burn with emerald fire. He held a golden staff decorated with arcane runes in his right hand. Green lightning constantly struck between the two points, which were decorated with black gems, in which flickers of light sometimes appeared. A constant wailing and moaning came from the gems, which would unsettle any who came nearby. He wore a signet ring on his hand.

Another stayed in the shadows, only the basic outline of her form visible. She was obviously female, but something was wrong with her right arm. It was huge, misshapen, with what could only be vines dangling from it. Red lights shone where her eyes should be.

The last was a woman, with a cold, haughty gaze and a pale face. She wore ice-blue robes, and crystals of frost lay in her long white hair. She had looks that men would kill to posess, if they could withstand the icy glare of her eyes.

'So it begins,' the masked one said.

'Of course, Matis,' the one with the staff said.

'How do we know that this shall succeed? After all, the failure at the Vector Coil was your fault!' the misshapen female said in a low, rattling voice.

'Quiet down Edena,' Matis spoke, softly yet angrily. 'or you'll beg for death when I'm done with you. As for the Vector Coil, Sylvos, it was Sironas' failure. The Master should never have allowed a demon in charge of the operation.'

'Next,' he said. 'our agent Kelenmar has convinced the Forsaken that an artifact of power lies in Gilneas. The war shall soon go into full swing.'

'Then,' he said, gesturing to the icy female and the man with the staff. 'Aladria and Sylvos will find what we seek. As for our recruitment operation in Silvermoon, it is working. We have spies the fool Lor'themar does not suspect nor know about. The survivors are flocking to us. The Master shall soon rise from the ashes. The filthy Draenei scum think that I am long dead. And thus, all that remains is our statement of faith.'

Then, as in one voice, they cried: 'All hail Kael'thas! All hail the Sunstorm!'

Last edited by Lord of Azeroth; 10-16-2008 at 08:58 AM..
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Old 10-15-2008, 07:34 AM
Xarthat Xarthat is offline

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Not bad, but I've seen better ones. I don't have really advanced list of pros and cons for this short text but I hope that you will expand this story. I'm just wondering how you would explain what have happened to Kael in the Sunwell patch. Or you're going to change it?
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Old 10-15-2008, 07:38 AM
Lord of Azeroth Lord of Azeroth is offline

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Chapter 1

Dalin Forgewright eyed the forest with caution. Curse Gilneas for this! They had been waiting for years by the wall, hoping against hope that the Gilneans would show them charity. That hope was empty. He watched the children playing amongst the tents and shacks, and begged every day that the Light would show them mercy. There were thousands of them here, men, women and children, and he was terrified of the Forsaken.

They were now the dominant power in the region, after Arugal's death and the Worgen's disappearance, and he was terrified they would come for him. He had heard of what had happened in Hillsbrad Fields, some thirty miles to the east, of the burned-out skeletons of houses, of the heaps of headless corpses, and the pyramid of skulls that now stood in the center of town. All done by the Forsaken, blasphemous walking corpses, offenses against the Light, that had joined with the orcs. The same orcs that had burned Dalin's village to the ground and slaughtered all his family when he was only five years old. He had hated them then, and by the Light, he hated them now.

He slipped on the muddy ground, falling and covering his eyes with mud. As he wiped it off he saw the Forsaken emerging from the treeline. Then they charged the camp, hacking through the refugees. Some of them in robes began casting spells, and soon men were dying, rotting alive or struck by balls of fire that reduced them to cinders. Then some started summoning things, and Dalin realised too late that they were demons.

Some were beautiful women, their whips causing strong men to collapse in agony and spasm in pain. Others were shadowy, disturbing entities, and yet others were bizarre hounds that sucked life, causing people to crumble to dust. Some refugees had swords and were starting to fight back, but for the most the refugees were completely unarmed. An Abomination lurched forward, hacking annd grabbing people, using them as clubs to kill others before throwing the broken body away. Some Forsaken ripped at bodies, ripping with skeletal hands at bare flesh and biting great chunks out of still-living bodies.

The screams filled Dalin's world as he ran to the gate of the Greymane Wall. He knocked hard on the gate with his fist, then collapsed in despair at the futility of it all. This was not a battle, this was not even a massacre, this was...there were no words that could properly describe it, but 'atrocity' was the best fitting. Then he, heard something behind him, and rushed to look. He got a brief glimpse of a jawless, rotting face, before he felt cold steel in his flesh and death claimed him.

_____________________________________________

'It is good, Executor Corestiam,' a figure said. 'the humans have been purged.'

Executor Corestiam looked at the carpet of bodies that he trod on. They were all pathetic and weak. The might of the Banshee Queen would soon strike Gilneas, and then it would truly feel fear. The Hour of the Forsaken had truly come. The Executor glared at the messenger.

The filthy humans, with their Light-worship and their hatred of his kind, would be first to be purged. The other races would all be kept as slaves, to be used as pets and beasts of burden, and occasionally, as food. Gilneas was but the beginning of the favor he would recieve from the Banshee Queen. Then, he would rise higher and higher and eventually replace her. The races of the Horde would be decieved as to his intentions until the Alliance was dealt with and the time came to strike. Then the Forsaken Empire would expand to other worlds, using portal magic and the strategic position of Outland, until the whole physical universe was under Forsaken rule.

Then it would expand yet further, conquering the Elemental Plane, the Emerald Dream and the Twisting Nether until everything imaginable was ruled by the Forsaken.

It was a certainty. Corestiam knew in every part of himself that he could not do anything but succeed.
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Old 10-15-2008, 08:35 AM
Lord of Azeroth Lord of Azeroth is offline

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Quote:
Originally Posted by Xarthat View Post
Not bad, but I've seen better ones. I don't have really advanced list of pros and cons for this short text but I hope that you will expand this story. I'm just wondering how you would explain what have happened to Kael in the Sunwell patch. Or you're going to change it?
All will be explained...
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  #5  
Old 10-15-2008, 09:25 AM
Lord of Azeroth Lord of Azeroth is offline

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Chapter 2

Ambassador Kelenmar chuckled to himself as he walked through the corridors of Sunfury Spire. Lor'Themar did not know his true allegiance. He took a right, knowing where he was going. He quickly noticed two people, walking through the corridors. They were not supposed to be here. Lor'themar had recently tightened security in these passages, and Kelenmar knew why. Nobody was allowed here without good reason. Were they guards?

Before he knew, the people stopped him.

'Password?' the male one demanded.

Kelenmar knew he had to think quickly. If they were real guards, he would almost certainly be executed, whatever he did. If, however, they were not, as he suspected, then he at least had a viable option.

'The Sunstorm conquers!' he exclaimed.

'Password accepted,' the female one said tersely, tossing her white hair.

The male one grabbed his hand, and as he walked closer he noticed the corpses of guards lying on the floor and slumped against the walls. Some had holes burned in them, or were frozen, but others looked as if they had rotted alive, bones visible, limbs hanging loosely, eyes fallen out of their sockets. Those were the lucky ones. Others looked as if they had died of fright, or had suffered in horrible agony, or had just collapsed. Kelenmar noticed a disturbing pride in the male one's expression as he noticed these corpses.

Then, they stopped, at what was seemingly a dead end. The corridor just ended. Three corpses lay on the ground, their armor and robes marking them as officers.

However, the male one began uttering words of power. The chanting continued, in a language that sounded like broken bells ringing in dissonance. Kelenmar felt a dull ache in his bones, then, just as suddenly as it had started, it ceased.

The male one made a slashing motion with his hand, and the invisible door flew off its hinges, shattering into a thousand golden shards. The whole building shook briefly, and Kelenmar knew that everybody knew that something had happened.

This was the Vault of Secrets, home to the most powerful and dangerous artifacts of the Blood Elves. The Scourge had never known about this place, and if they had there might never have been a victory at Hyjal.

Kelenmar cautiously went down into the dusty staircase, lit only by dim blue crystals that had long lost much of their power. At the end was a door, made of pure silver, cast as a single piece. On it were the words, in Thalassian;

None shall pass

The man was not bothered by this. Instead, he merely took out a key and inserted it into the keyhole. The door slid to one side, vanishing from sight.

The male led him into the Vault proper, a chamber filled with artifacts of extraordinary power. The magical light they emitted filled the chamber, making it as bright as noon on a hot summer's day. But the elves ignored all these artifacts. Instead, they took out a single, small casket, completely unenchanted, and special in only one respect.

It contained the ashes of Kael'thas.

The man swept the casket under his robes. He had followed his orders and performed his duty to the Sunstorm.

'Turn your back to me,' he demanded.

Kelenmar obeyed without hesitation, as a member of the Sunstorm ought to a superior. As he felt the dagger enter his back and life slip away from him, he understood only that he had done what was his duty.

Last edited by Lord of Azeroth; 10-23-2008 at 10:25 AM..
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Old 10-26-2008, 08:30 AM
Lord of Azeroth Lord of Azeroth is offline

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Chapter 3

Keledan Bloodspear laughed inside his head as he read the orders.

They read thus:

By Order of Lor'themar

The Royal Guard shall advance to attack the enemies of Silvermoon. Their leader, Keledan Bloodspear, shall lead the assault. You are to kill whomever you find, and to take the ashes back to Silvermoon to be disposed of. The traitors behind this evil are to be captured and thus taken to a place of execution. If a single word of this order is not obeyed, Keledan and all his men are to be declared guilty of treason against Quel'Thalas and the Blood Elf Race.


Your Regent-Lord, Lor'themar Theron.


He had no plan of obeying a single word of the orders. In fact, he saw this as an opportunity to rise in rank among his true masters. The Royal Guard were utterly loyal to him and his true master, and would obey any order he gave.

_________________________

The portal opened in the dank crypt, Keledan and his followers marching imperiously through. It closed just as swiftly as it had opened, as a masked figure walked out of the shadows.

"Drink, Keledan," he said, offering a golden chalice.

Keledan took it without hesitation. As he prepared to drink, he noticed that it contained a green liquid that looked like molten metal, and that the inside was scorched and blackened.

He took a tiny sip. His body warmed up tremendously, until it seemed like he was burning. His skin began to turn red, and he seemed to be increasing in stature. He felt...powerful. Like he could smash armies and shatter fortresses with but a single blow. Incredible strength filled him, as vestigial wings burst from his back. His teeth elongated into fangs. He could feel his hair changing color, becoming midnight-black where it had once been blond. Horns burst forth from his brow, drawing thick, sweet blood that ran down his faace.

He then noticed something else. His armor had changed, becoming black, as green flames burst from newly-formed rifts and gaps. His sword burned with red flames and his shield had crumbled to nothing. He felt...incredible.

"Drink," he said, his voice deep and booming. "Drink deep of the Chalice of Blood and accept its power."

He passed it to his lieutenant, an elf called Valsarun. He drank and began to change, passing the chalice to another. And so it continued. Keledan couldn't help but smile.

__________________
General Highberg opened the door to the royal bedchamber, the orders resonating inside his mind.

Kill the king, then yourself, they commanded.

His feet seemed to move by themselves as he walked up to Genn Greymane's bed, then his hands held the king up as he impaled him, the sword going straight through the fragile body. Then he dropped the weapon, as his hands came to his neck and squeezed. He then collapsed, his vision fading as he strangled himself to death.

___________________

Sylvos laughed in the darkness of the crypt. He now had a force that would obliterate his enemies, and add greatly to his armies. The Sunstorm would burn Ginchar to the ground, and he would command the army that performed it. Matis knew little of such matters, but Sylvos knew about warfare. It was about terror. Terrify your enemy, and he could not fight effectively. His troops would flee. His armies would rout. His men would betray their leader. And then, you could reduce his kingdom to ashes, killing everyone who resisted. And what could terrify people more than the obliteration of a city?

He already had eliminated the enemy leader, through a pawn he had used. The Gilneans would not fight effectively. The Forsaken would push to Ginchar. Everybody would blame the massacre on the Forsaken. And while Horde and Alliance fought each other, the Sunstorm would have their vengeance.

Everything would go as planned.
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Old 10-26-2008, 08:30 AM
Lord of Azeroth Lord of Azeroth is offline

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Chapter 3

Keledan Bloodspear laughed inside his head as he read the orders.

They read thus:

By Order of Lor'themar

The Royal Guard shall advance to attack the enemies of Silvermoon. Their leader, Keledan Bloodspear, shall lead the assault. You are to kill whomever you find, and to take the ashes back to Silvermoon to be disposed of. The traitors behind this evil are to be captured and thus taken to a place of execution. If a single word of this order is not obeyed, Keledan and all his men are to be declared guilty of treason against Quel'Thalas and the Blood Elf Race.


Your Regent-Lord, Lor'themar Theron.


He had no plan of obeying a single word of the orders. In fact, he saw this as an opportunity to rise in rank among his true masters. The Royal Guard were utterly loyal to him and his true master, and would obey any order he gave.

_________________________

The portal opened in the dank crypt, Keledan and his followers marching imperiously through. It closed just as swiftly as it had opened, as a masked figure walked out of the shadows.

"Drink, Keledan," he said, offering a golden chalice.

Keledan took it without hesitation. As he prepared to drink, he noticed that it contained a green liquid that looked like molten metal, and that the inside was scorched and blackened.

He took a tiny sip. His body warmed up tremendously, until it seemed like he was burning. His skin began to turn red, and he seemed to be increasing in stature. He felt...powerful. Like he could smash armies and shatter fortresses with but a single blow. Incredible strength filled him, as vestigial wings burst from his back. His teeth elongated into fangs. He could feel his hair changing color, becoming midnight-black where it had once been blond. Horns burst forth from his brow, drawing thick, sweet blood that ran down his face.

He then noticed something else. His armor had changed, becoming black, as green flames burst from newly-formed rifts and gaps. His sword burned with red flames and his shield had crumbled to nothing. He felt...incredible.

"Drink," he said, his voice deep and booming. "Drink deep of the Chalice of Blood and accept its power."

He passed it to his lieutenant, an elf called Valsarun. He drank and began to change, passing the chalice to another. And so it continued. Keledan couldn't help but smile.

__________________
General Highberg opened the door to the royal bedchamber, the orders resonating inside his mind.

Kill the king, then yourself, they commanded.

His feet seemed to move by themselves as he walked up the king's bed, then his hands held the king up as he impaled him, the sword going straight through the fragile body. Then he dropped the weapon, as his hands came to his neck and squeezed. He then collapsed, his vision fading as he strangled himself to death.

___________________

Sylvos laughed in the darkness of the crypt. He now had a force that would obliterate his enemies, and add greatly to his armies. The Sunstorm would burn Ginchar to the ground, and he would command the army that performed it. Matis knew little of such matters, but Sylvos knew about warfare. It was about terror. Terrify your enemy, and he could not fight effectively. His troops would flee. His armies would rout. His men would betray their leader. And then, you could reduce his kingdom to ashes, killing everyone who resisted. And what could terrify people more than the obliteration of a city?

He already had eliminated the enemy leader, through a pawn he had used. The Gilneans would not fight effectively. The Forsaken would push to Ginchar. Everybody would blame the massacre on the Forsaken. And while Horde and Alliance fought each other, the Sunstorm would have their vengeance.

Everything would go as planned.

Last edited by Lord of Azeroth; 07-24-2009 at 05:29 AM..
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