Strands of Fate Chapter 3: Enemies in the Darkness (Open RP)

[Leikos Darkwood]

Posted on behalf of Baast Swifthoof

The petite kaldorei with the glowing blue eyes stood defiantly before Arch-druid Fandral Staghelm. Staghelm paced the room to and fro, agitated. His voice never raised, but the anger and contempt was clear.

"Sentinel Baast Swiftfoot. So good of you to finally come home. Tyrande may accept your little stunts but I do not. I hear you were working for Azshara for a while. Tell me, how did that work out for you?"

As Baast was opening her mouth to defiantly voice her contempt for the Arch-druid, Tyrande Whisperwind strode forward, looking him in the eye. "She does not answer to you, Staghelm. Save your lectures for those who have concern to care."

The druid stopped dead in his tracks. His cheeks began to redden and his eyes burned.

"Do not take that tone with me, Tyrande."

"I know you do not care for my methods, but Baast has her place. She has never presumed to be perfect, and becoming involved with Azshara's schemes was a mistake. A mistake I have since remedied. Now, do you wish to hear what she has to say, or are you simply going to stare daggers at us?"

Tyrande looked back towards the wayward Sentinel. Baast stood her ground in her casual, impish way. Staghelm looked her up and down, then shook his head.

"Very well, Baast. Speak."

Baast grinned broadly and cleared her throat. "I have been following the movements of the Cult of the Damned in Northrend. Despite our infiltration of Naxxramas, Kel'Thuzzad's little puppets are strong. They have a direct link to Arthas, but more importantly I have reason to believe they have infiltrated the Kirin Tor. Not a difficult task, given Kel'Thuzzad's roots in that illustrious organization."

"The Kirin Tor is not my problem. What does this have to do with us, Sentinel?"

Baast shot a glance to Tyrande, who already had a gleam of pure resolution in her eyes. "It has everything to do with us. The Kaldorei may have no direct ties with the Kirin Tor, but as members of the Alliance we are at risk. The Kirin Tor were the premiere source of knowledge and training for the Alliance up until Archimonde destroyed Dalaran, and now that the order and their capital city have been rebuilt they are once again the purveyors of knowledge they once were. But they are still fallible. They are still vulnerable to attack from the inside, and when that happens, both the Alliance and the Horde will be compromised. Between the Humans, the gnomes, the Quel'dorei, and the Sin'dorei, there are plenty of connections that can be exploited.

"We know how magic can corrupt, we have seen what it can do when used for evil. We owe it to our allies to do what we can to prevent such a thing from happening."

Staghelm nodded, taking in the information.

"I appreciate you speaking to me, Sentinel Swiftfoot. However, I have many pressing matters to attend to. Tyrande, why are you wasting my time with this?

Tyrande bowed her head. "I pray to Elune every day that some day, Fandral, you get over your own thick skull and learn to see the big picture. Not how you would like to see it, but how it should truly be seen. This is a huge problem for our people. Please... try to accept that."

"It is, Tyrande. It is, but it is not out of our hands. I probably will not agree with how you handle this situation, but I give you my blessing to deal with however you choose."

The Priestess of Elune closed her eyes and sighed loudly. "Very well, Fandral. Please, forgive me for intruding upon your important machinations. I will handle this the way I see fit and I do expect you to not say a word to me. Not... a... word."

The unlikely pair strode out of Staghelm's room, Baast wearing a satisfied grin and Tyrande displaying her austere, regal countenance. As they parted ways at the Temple of the Moon, Tyrande placed her hands upon Baast's shoulders.

"Be careful, Sentinel Swiftfoot. Shandris has much invested in you and so do I. "

[Leikos Darkwood]

Posted on behalf of Vendil

Vendil made his way down the slope silently. He was enjoying himself. The village was so easily stirred. He had knocked out three sentries and tossed a few gnomish spark bombs into two of the large camp fires and the entire village thought it was under attack. He had spotted Leikos once during the chaos. He was garbed in a linen shirt with a heavy woolen jerkin and rough matching leggings. His hair was unusually messy and an old tattered hat sat upon his head. Tindr had been right; he did look old and worn.

“He’s not himself, Vendil. He’s lost his way.” Tindr’s words played back in Vendil’s mind.

“A warrior with out a will is a dead warrior.” Vendil had replied.

So the plan had been made. Vendil would attack his brother and only two outcomes would follow. Leikos would snap out of his rut and return to duty or Vendil would be forced to kill him. He couldn’t stand the thought of Leikos fading away as he was doing. It just wasn’t fitting. Vendil had headed deep into Icecrown and “acquired” a Scourge Death Knight’s armor and weapon. It was well made. He had also donned a vicious looking helm he had taken from one of their Commanders.

Now all that remained was to confront Leikos, under disguise, and see if he was truly as Tindr had said he was. A rustling of leaves came from behind him. Vendil dove to his right avoiding a spear. He rose up, axe in hand, and charged a young Tuskarr, knocking him from his feet. He pulled a dagger and brought it to the young Tuskarr’s throat. The Tuskarr grunted. Three more appeared spears in hand. Vendil knew he would need to make some noise before Leikos would come. He had positioned himself next to a graveyard. He whispered several words of runic power and a dozen ghouls appeared from the ground. They charged the group of Tuskarr. Battle shouts came from the group. More Tuskarr entered the fight against the ghouls.

Vendil pulled his captive from the fray and shouted, “If anyone but the old Night Elf follows me this boy dies. I want the one known as Darkwood to meet me in the glade to the east. If he does not comply, I’ll slaughter this boy and the rest of your village one by one.”

[Aitana]

Before the expedition to Tower of Althalaxx:

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The blood runes were a cause for concern. They had reacted when Aitana had shown those gathered in the World’s End Tavern the weapon that she had found by the body of the hunter that had attacked her. A party of Nyxians and their friends arranged to meet in Orgrimmar in preparation to revisit the tower in Darkshore.

The conversation turned to the events of the previous week and the attempt on Aitana's life.

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Asarelah refused to believe that the house of Al'shar lo Dor'ano could possibly have anything to do with the attack in spite of the fact that the would be assassin had been wearing their colors.

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Tasera on the other hand was equally convinced that it they were indeed behind the attack.

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The mention of a message piqued Aitana's interest. She had received a message by owl, but had been unable to arrange a meeting before she had been summoned to heal for battles in Ulduar. Asarelah had been left to attend the meeting.

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Asarelah informed her that the messenger had been sent to relay information to the Nyxians that Al'shar lo Dor'ano had not been behind the attack. The first question Aitana had for Asarelah was whether the messenger could be trusted to which she responded with a resounding 'yes'.

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Aitana pointed out that she could have been deceived, but Asarelah would not consider her doubts.

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As far as Aitana was concerned, the fact that the assailant had been wearing Al'shar's colors meant that they needed to answer for the attack.

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Asarelah stubbornly refused to believe that Al’shar lo Dor’ano could possibly have had anything to do with the attack. She pointed out that Tindr and Leikos had treated her with the utmost care and respect in her meetings with them. Aitana restrained herself from rolling her eyes. She had been at the receiving end of their ‘care and respect’ during her captivity. While they had treated her well enough, the fact remained that they had captured her. Although they did not all seem to be in agreement about her capture and imprisonment, ultimately their purpose in treating her well had nothing to do with any desire for her well being. She had been a bargaining chip in negotiations and they needed their bargaining chip in condition to suit their purposes. Asarelah had been the one to remind her of that after her release. Aitana could hardly believe that she had forgotten her own counsel on this matter.

The argument continued off and on over the course of the evening.

"Falelore would not divulge her sources, and I could not see them past the natural blocks in her mind. But I can assure you when she said that sinister forces were at work, and creeping up on both the Houses of lo Do'rano and Lady Nyx, that she was telling the absolute truth. And you will never make me believe that the Al'shar were in any way responsible for the attempt on the Oracle's life!"

"Even if you are right, Nightwarder, they still have to answer for this. The attempt was done under their banner. I do believe that the messenger was telling the truth as she believed it to be true. That does not mean that she was right. If nothing else we MUST watch the activities of the Al'shar. You seem to have forgotten that weapon I recovered off that dwarf's body. It has the same 'feel' as that artifact that we destroyed. There is evil afoot."

[Asarelah]

Rubbing her temples as she walked through the garden, Asarelah could not understand the source of her anger. She also felt edgy, and had sensations of creeping jitters; which was something completely foreign to her nature.

"Must be the sound of the Nyxian War Horns trumpeting through the valley." Lah mused as she continued on to the Nyxian Tribal Headquarters. She had worked long in to the night preparing dispatches for a select few - the most powerful members of the Tribe - ordering them to report at the setting sun, tomorrow. A host of runners awaited her, to get the word out quickly, and in person.

For whether she believed it or not, argue as she might, that the Al'shar were NOT responsible for the strike against Aitana; Tribe Nyx prepared once again for War!!

[Leikos Darkwood]

When the shouts of the Kalu'ak within Kamagua began, Leikos had rushed towards Elder Atuik's home. He found Atuik and his soon Antuket gathering their light armor and spears. The Elder and his eldest son had led the efforts to find the attackers. Atuik and Leikos had headed north and the Elder's son had gone west. The Elder's group had found nothing. Shouts had come from the direction of Antuket's, the Elder's son, group. By the time they had arrived, the last of the ghouls had been dispatched. There had been a few injuries but no causalities.

"Where is Antuket? Where is my son." Atuik asked.

One of the warriors quickly explained what had happened. Leikos could see the blood run from Atuik's face. He looked to Leikos.

"I cannot ask you to face this creature. You have laid down your weapon for a more peaceful existence. We will see to this beast."

"This Death Knight will kill many, including your son, my friend," Leikos patted Atuik on the shoulder and headed for the glade, "I will return your son to you."

He sprinted towards the glade. Upon reaching it, he found Antuket tied to a tree. Leikos looked around the glade, the Death Knight was nowhere to be found. Leikos rushed towards the young Kalu'ak and began untying him. He removed the gag and then sliced the straps holding him with his hunting knife.

"Thank you, Darkwood. I don't know where he went. He just tied me up and left."

Leikos scanned the area quickly, "Go back to your father, Antuket."

Antuket began protesting, "I can't just leave you..."

"Go... now!" Leikos cut in and turned to face the south.

Antuket obeyed and ran towards Kamagua.

"Unwise to come here unarmed." a grim voice came from the direction Leikos was facing, "You will stand little chance against me with no weapon and no armor."

Leikos gripped his hunting knife tighter, "I did not come here to fight you, Scourgeborn. I came to tell you to leave the Tuskarr alone. If you have come seeking a glory kill, you'll have to look elsewhere. I no longer wield."

Suddenly Leikos was jerked towards the Death Knight. His neck was in the furious grip of the undead. He ripped the tarnished necklace from Leikos' neck and tossed him to the ground. Leikos was momentarily stunned.


"I actually didn't come for your, old Elf. I just came for this. If you want it back, I suggest you meet me prepared for battle. I will have my chance to kill the warrior Darkwood. Not this peasant that lay before me. Should you have the courage, you will seek me out on the great path leading out to the ocean in Dragonblight. Should you decide to be a coward, know I will kill every Tuskarr in that ragged village and then I will hunt you like prey you seem to have become."

Leikos rose to his feet and prepared to attack the Death Knight but it was too late. A skeletal gryphon swooped down and the Death Knight had mounted it and flew off towards Dragonblight. Leikos rushed back to Kamagua and entered his tent. He opened the dark chest holding his armor and pulled his mace from under his bed and unwrapped it. He stared long and hard at the items.

"You saved my son and I thank you, Darkwood. But if you don this armor and wield that mace once more, you will loose all that you have gained here." the voice of Atuik came from the door of Leikos' tent.


Leikos turned to face Atuik, a solemn look upon his face, "I have no choice. I must fight. That which this Death Knight has taken from me was never mine to loose."

Atuik nodded and left the tent. Leikos turned once more to his armor and weapon. He placed the armor upon his body and checked the straps, then tied his mace in place upon his back. He looked around in the sky and spotted the familiar figure of Erezormu. The Bronze Drake landed in front of Leikos and he hopped into the saddle.

"To Dragonblight, my friend. Destiny awaits."

[Leikos Darkwood]

Upon landing on the great path, Leikos could see the armed Death Knight awaiting him. He had his back turned and was staring out at the sea. Leikos dismounted his drake, Erezormu, and pulled his mace from his back. He approached the Death Knight silently and halted about twenty paces away from him.

“I knew you would come.” The deep eerie voice said, obvious amusement held in the tone.

Leikos rested the massive mace upon his shoulder, “I will give you once chance to return that pendant, Scourgeborn.”

The Death Knight turned to face Leikos, axe in hand, “No mocking words, no threats, not even a change in your facial expressions. And they say my kind is void of emotion.”

The two stood facing one another. A long moment passed.

“Goodbye, Darkwood.” The Death Knight stated and dragged Leikos towards him once more!

Leikos had been prepared this time and moved his mace between the Death Knight and himself. The hilt of Leikos’ mace and the Death Knight’s axe interlocked. The two leaned against their weapons, forcing their weight against each other. Leikos was slightly larger than the Death Knight but their strength was practically identical. The Death Knight side stepped and twirled around, attempting to hammer the back blade of his axe into Leikos’ sternum. Leikos dodged the vicious blade and shoulder blocked the Death Knight causing him to stumble slightly.

As Leikos charged him, the Death Knight did a back flip and released two daggers; one towards Leikos’ throat and the other towards his heart. Leikos was forced to slow and block the two blades with the handle of his mace. The two circled each other cautiously.

“You fight like a peasant, Darkwood. I had been told you would be more of a challenge.” The Death Knight mocked.

Leikos remained silent, watching his opponent closely. The Death Knight released a spell which hammered Leikos in the chest. His feet remained planted but the force of the spell caused him to skid back slightly. The Death Knight charged in, his blade swinging in a figure eight motion. Leikos swiftly moved his upper body slightly to the right and raised his mace’s handle to meet with the blade. Sparks flew as the two weapons met. The force of the Death Knight’s attack had been so powerful Leikos had been pushed to his knees to avoid taking the blade in the shoulder. He strained to hold the blade a bay.

Leikos could hear the tension in the Death Knight’s voice, “You are weak. Unfit for the honor bestowed upon you. I will show everyone what you really are! A dog!”

Leikos gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his feet. The muscles in his back and legs bulged under the pressure. He shifted his left shoulder towards the Death Knight, allowing the axe to free and hammer the ground, then brought a hard uppercut to the unprotected chin of his opponent. The Death Knight stumbled back. Leikos followed up with a hard blow from his mace to the chest plate of his opponent. The blow caused the Death Knight to tumble backwards towards the edge of the eroded great path. The Death Knight forced himself to his knees. He was unable to speak. His right hand was wrapped around the front of his abdomen. Leikos walked towards the Death Knight and pulled the necklace dangling outside of his armor.

“This does not belong to you, Scourgeborn. Know that your death has served a purpose. It is creatures like you that remind me of why I must continue my long vigilance.”

The Death Knight raised his arm in protest and attempted to speak but was unable to. Leikos shook his head and laid his boot into the shoulder of his opponent causing him to tumble over the edge of the great path. He watched as the body splashed into the water. As Leikos turned and began walking towards where Erezormu awaited him, a familiar creature appeared. It was the red wisp and it was glowing brighter than ever…

[Asarelah]

Asarelah lay in a pool of her own blood. How she had gotten there was all a murky haze. And she could not remember much of anything past a red hot blaze of anger.

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Ambassador Leothiel had been uncharacteristically heckling the Alliance, prodding them, provoking them, to the God’s only knew what horrors. He had led a force that ransacked the Kingship of the East’s headquarters in Howling Fjord, and had come away with documents that he still was not showing anyone. Why all the secrecy, she still had no clue. But she was certain that the Kingship would strike back in kind, and decisively.

And that was not the least of what fueled her red hot rage. Added on top of the belief that lo Dor’ano had been responsible for the assassin’s blade turned on Oracle Tallbear – which she had steadfastly refused to accept - she had stood rooted in horror as she watched brother after sister fall, under the blades of Al’shar, as they came at the Nyxians that had fallen back to Stonnard.

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It had been a routine patrol mission. For some reason Aitana had ordered half a legion out in to the Blasted Lands. Since this was not an area the Tribal Rogues normally kept watch over, that was a puzzle unto itself. She had expected to follow a strike force, and had ordered up troops accordingly. Not a routine patrol mission. Neither had she taken time to question the wisdom of such an expedition, nor understand its importance. Obedient as always to Lady Nyx, she had simply mounted up and followed in her party, as the Patrol Leader lead them out into the burning desert.

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After following the patrol for what seemed an eternity, the foray had ended up at the Dark Portal. While awaiting orders whether to proceed through the portal, or patrol back to Stonnard, word came in from the Rogues that Alliance had been spotted. And not just any Alliance, but a Hunter wearing Al’shar colors. Not only had they been spotted, but were attacking!!!

The patrol leader ordered the entire patrol in to the fray, and it got very messy very quickly. It was all Lah could do to heal those right beside her; those at a distance were beyond hope, and help. Finally, an order came to fall back to Stonnard. Fall back they did, but only to be run to ground, and annihilated again.

Now, all she could do was lay here. And fume. And rage. She had never been so angry. She didn’t like this anger that seemed to consume her, with no rhyme or reason to it…..

[Tindr Thornleif]

(( Recapping the in-game SoF chap3: Event Battle ))


The air of Darkshire was musky and bitter as always. The alliance forces of Al'shar lo Dor'ano, Storm Riders, and Republic, as well as representatives from the Smalls Clan, trickled into town one by one. Each heavily armored and prepared for the evening's patrol. Leaders were quickly briefed and the group divided into their respected units to begin securing various areas of Duskwood.




As the minutes passed, reports slowly came in from each group. Not a horde or hostile rebel was found. But the silence did not last when a young scout arrived in Darkshire to report that a massive movement of horde forces were seen heading towards Netherguarde Keep.

Quickly word was sent out, the alliance group regrouped and flew in mass into the Blasted Lands. But what was suppose to be a massive horde force near Netherguard Keep became somewhat elusive. Their movement was swift for such a large group. Several scouts were sent out to various areas while those who remained secured the main gate. Suddenly, reports came in. A horde force had been spotted. It was the Nyxians and their allies. Whether this was the same group spotted earlier or not, was still unknown.





The battle seemed over as quickly as it had began. Commander Leikos and Commander Kaelithas of the Republic gave orders for the group to return immediately to Netherguard in case a second group had flanked around them to infiltrate the Keep. Many of the Alliance were left baffled as to why the Nyxians were seeking to assault the place. What was their motive?





It was not long after their arrival when the horde were once again spotted. They had already seen to their injured and were once again prepared for battle. They had a mission to accomplish and their fierce determination was obvious.



The Commander's prepared their units, using the narrow passageway to Netherguard Keep as their advantage against the large force of Nyxians and their allies. One group was posted out in the open while a second group was stealthed across the way. As the horde took the bait and rode up the hillside to engage the visible group, the second unit came out, flanking their side with vigor.








The battle was intense yet eventually the Alliance were able to push the Nyxians back, keeping them from reaching the main gate of the Keep.

Tension filled their air as the battlefield became quiet. The Alliance group waited in anticipation for another wave of assault. But it did not come. Scouts were once again sent out in search of the massive horde force and the thick silence was finally broken when one had spotted the Chieftan, Warburn, standing alone near the border. The request to engage the leader was made and approved while the rest of the group moved to engage with suspicion that the rest of the Chieftan's force would be close by.



As suspected, they were. Battle ensued and eventually the Nyxians fell back, taking up an advantageous defensive position within Stonard. The order was given to push further into Stonard and take the place over. The initial push forward was brutal. The horde force fought hard but eventually the Alliance force mustered their strength and overwhelmed them.



The battles had finally ended. The Alliance force wearily returned with their injured to Stormwind.



Many were left wondering why the Nyxian's were moving through the Blasted Lands. Was their focus truly upon the Netherguard Keep? What was their motive? What was behind their fierce determination and fight?

[Leothiel]

To Ambassador, now turned Crusader, Leothiel Frosthawk; this could not have been one of his better hours. The Kingship documents were in his possession, but sent somewhere for safekeeping and it was not the Nyx headquarters. This act of audacity came at the end of a drill session in having the Horde ready for battle.
King Varian's personal declaration of war also weighed heavily on his mind. He used his Ambassadorship to send an open message to Stormwind. Leothiel penned a draft to another letter before retiring for the night.

With all of this on his mind, the feeble attempt on Oracle Aitana's life seemed like nothing in comparison but it was enough to garner his attention. By the next morning, his open letter set off a major diplomatic earthquake with not only the arcanist as the target but anyone associated with the Lady of Shadows. Aftershocks would be expected as Alliance capitals were put on alert.

All was quiet in Stranglethorn during the assembly. Leothiel led formation drills in the middle of Grom'gol. Some Alliance thought it was an opportune moment to attack the encampment. When they realized they were facing large numbers of Horde ready for battle, they retreated to summon more of their troops. Leothiel's freshly trained and drilled contingent repelled them. Afterwards, everyone returned to Grom'gol and took the portal to Stonard. The Alliance attacked just seconds before the last Horde left Grom'gol. Leothiel did some more drilling and ran a mock attack on Stonard.

Eventually, the scouts returned with significant Alliance activity to the south. Leothiel gave the order to get into formation and move out. The first encounter ended disastrously with the second battle resulting in the Horde being surrounded. After the Horde made it back to Stonard to patch up the wounded, the Alliance attacked once again.

The thought on Leothiel's mind that night was "Who hired the pathetic hit dwarf?"

[Aitana]

(( place holder for post))