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Old 01-01-2012, 10:08 AM
Thornby Thornby is offline

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Default Thornby: A Historical Account of the Taming of Kalimdor and the Continued War with th

Thornby: A Historical Account of the Taming of Kalimdor and the Continued War with the Orcish Horde

So it was that on the Last Year of the Rule of King Terenas Menethil(may he rest in peace) that I was approached by the sovereign of the aquatic nation of Kul Tiras. After single-handedly stopping the invasion of the Scourge and the rise of the Lich King, brave Grand Admiral Daelin Proumoore requested my assistance in tracking the refugees that fled westward, across the great sea. As Hero of the Alliance, it was my duty to safeguard citizens regardless where their nonsensical heading led them.

With Proudmoore as my second--as my title of Hero outranked both his title of Grand Admiral and King--we sallied forth over the great wet beyond. What a journey it was, or could have been had I not split time itself asunder to shorten our trip. At the time I foresaw no complications due to there being no need to actually travel both ways repeatedly. The journey that took months took but minutes after, and we made camp upon the red crags of an alien eastern shore.

Forward scouts made quick work to secure our surroundings, reporting big men, bird-women, horse-men and the usual gaggle of creatures found common to the east. But it was on only the third day in this rich new land that we did discover an old foe. The Orcs had followed us. As my time-shattering abilities clearly meant we had arrived before them, I quickly rallied an attack on their forward assault base. The battle was bloody and brief but we bested the beasts. As I recalled our attack forces, Proudmoore himself desired my presence in our continued forward plans. Though I was glad to preside over this at the time, in hindsight I would learn of the camp I was leadings destruction at the hands of a second wave of Orc aggressors.

The Grand Admiral and I drew together our plans. The fleet would divide six times, the first to control the local isles, the second to send a force within the new land and scout new and viable gold deposits(I was to lead this one, though again in hindsight I should have stayed with another force). The third fleet would begin construction of a major base nearby, while the fourth would strike south to scout the marshes on the horizon for any useful materials. The fifth fleet would be aside as a rapid redeployment force in case any other faltered(Proudmoore himself would be attached to this one), while the sixth would continue to investigate this strange new land at sea. After some months they would send a portion of their own ships back to detail and early report on the nature or resources or threats.

With our plans finalized, and my fleet solidified, I took my forces west. At tis time I would presume news of my initial bases destruction made its way to the Grand Admiral's ears and led to his next action. Though I was not privy to the information at the time, the Grand Admiral took a page from histories own books and asked for parley with the Orcish Chieftan. He intended to inflict the same dishonor upon this chief as Doomhammer did upon our mutual friend Lord Lothar. But the Orc did not show, instead sending a gaggle of minions. Though our men fought bravely, the hulking fiends despicable power proved superior, and they were defeated.

While the above events took place, my fleet had arrived at the mouth of the river. With an acceptable landmark to guide us and supply us, I personally led various factions north to corral this land. But it was a harsh and unforgiving land, and too many men died to their own weakness or incompetence. When finally we glimpsed sight of the Orcs flank the men were too scattered and fatigued to launch an attack. That was when disaster struck.

The reports I gathered after the event collaborated that I was assaulted by the same group that had destroyed both the forward operating base, the sneak attack on the Orc leader and were somehow involved with the destruction of the first fleet. Though at the time I was ignorant of all of these facts and simply slew him, his bear, his porcupine, the troll the panda-man and the bull-man. And then I slew them again. And again.

I am still unsure of what fiendish magics supplied the foul four, but each time they would explode in a pillar of light upon defeat and come back as unperturbed as ever.

This went on for days. By the 20,000th time I had them at my mercy my own guard had fallen to their own limits. What were these strange beasts, that could drive a man to death simply by dying so many times? That was what I wondered as I swung my mighty Blade of Thornby for the countless time.

As usual, the light exploded. But I did not have time for this, my value to the Alliance's efforts was much more significant then the undying things before me. So on their next attempt as their clumsy swings failed to wound me yet again, I acted with all the glory befitting my station and laid to the ground, feigning death. Simpletons that they were, they bought it and waddled off.

But the time I took slaying them would prove to be our undoing, as when I returned to second fleet I found but a handful of survivors. Without my leadership the Orc's brutal attacks had destroyed my command and left us unable to rejoin the main force. Using our maps and estimations, I estimated the best plan was to follow the coast to the swamplands, meeting with the fourth and using their boats to return to the fifth. But this was not to be.

The trip south was uneventful, as my very presence kept the lesser creatures away. Those few with me were proven survivors, and fell not to foolish mistakes either. But we were on a fool's journey, as when we arrived near to the fourth's position we saw but smoke, and within their base, ruin. We were quick to blame the Orcs as any would do in the situation, but later we learned of the filthy snake-men he Naga were the cause of this.

We scavenged what we could, though no boats we saw were anything but planks of wood. As night fell we fell to debate, whether to stay or go. Eventually fortifying ourselves in a barracks won out, by my own vote. Day broke without consequence, and our ears broke from canon volleys. Our watchmen at the time called the rest of us to the roof, where my superior eyesight saw a massive fleet battle over a nearby island. An island filled with glorious and righteous human architecture. I rallied the men to find a boat--any boat even if they had to build it by hand. But it would be too late, I realized, as I saw the flagship of the entire fleet go down in flames. I did not share this information with the others for there was no need to shake what little morale the others had.

When I arrived at the makeshift docks the men were futilely trying to pull a ship up. It was only damaged in one significant spot, easy to repair if it could be dragged above. So I did. The ship was serviceable by the time the sun was at its peak, but the peak of canons was far in the past.

We set sail, sallying forth through Orcish lines without care. Their canonballs being split into power by my Blade. Their next attempt was to ram us, but again I proved the betters and sank those foolish enough to ride close but with a single slash.

At last we would arrive, too late. The Lady Proudmoore stood at our landing zone, the Orcish Chieftan and the fool four nearby. They were negotiating peace. Peace? She had not the authority and so did we all exclaim! But her words shot us apart, she had the authority on the death of her father.

My old friend, one of the greatest Alliance hero's dead? How many more must we lose to Orcish aggression before others realized letting any of them even exist would hurt us? I sneered in disgust and left, the others following. The Orc ships made no more attempts on us, out of fear of me or this treaty I could not say or care. As both Orc Ship and Human city faded from view, my mind turned forward, towards our next plan. We would need the sixth fleet, and this time I would not let myself be distracted. I would lead from in front, and put all Orcs to the sword.

But things, they never went as planned did they?
Thornby: "We'll fight for Lordaeron. Get your swords!"
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