End of the World (of Warcraft) {Open RP}

Post by Neonhyper

Azeroth's time is short.

Even the most famed heroes of both the Alliance and the Horde were unable to save the world in its darkest hour. The plan to take the Demon Soul from the past and use it to end Deathwing in the present was a failure. The artifact was never recovered, the pursuit of it claiming a steady stream of lives until there was no chance of success at all. At that point, Deathwing had won.

Even more troubling, the Old Gods had won. Their war is the one that breaks Azeroth to its very core.

Chromatus, the famed Aspect Killer, completed his task marvelously. All five of the massive dragons lay dead upon the surface of Azeroth, which is slowly decaying into a wasteland. The rest of the dragons are either dead or being hunted ceaselessly by the monster. Such slaughter is repeated across the world, where the Old Gods and their faithful servants plunge Azeroth into a carnage it will not survive from.

But where mortals wish to survive, there will be resistance. And where there is resistance, there is hope, even if it is simply a candle threatened to be blown out by heavy winds.

The Alliance and the Horde have taken refuge wherever they can find it, even if it is in each other's capitals. Ironforge and the Undercity, both heavily reinforced, are the safest strongholds for the tattered remains of the fighters. Many of the other cities are barely clinging to life, most of them shattered to pieces in raging battles or conquered by cultists.

The dying world has become a home for the Old Gods and their Faceless minions. After the destruction of the Aspects, and with aid from their fanatics, the abominations broke free of their prisons and now inhabit the very earth, tainting it and infesting it with the tentacles and monstrous organs.

C'thun and Yogg-Saron, two Old Gods once though defeated, have risen again. The former has implanted itself firmly in Southern Kalimdor, while the later has taken over the whole of Northrend. N'Zoth has infested the risen naga capital of Nazjatar, taking the nagas firmly in its control and polluting the whole ocean, its reach extending to island territories across the whole sea. The remaining two, and lesser known, Old Gods make their nests in other locations, but aren't quite as prominent as the trio so widely recalled by Azeroth's populace.

Even more disconcerting is the plague of madness that stretches its reach across Azeroth, claiming the remaining mortals one at a time. Those 'taken' are nothing more than husks under the will of the Old Gold they are closest to when they succumb. The Twilight's Hammer, fervent in their desire to please their masters, have taken to infiltrating and kidnapping, hoping to infect the last of Azeroth's free population with the madness.

Azeroth's time is very, very short.

But the fight isn't over. Not yet.

---

This takes place a good number of years after Cataclysm, I'm not sure exactly how many, so just sort of wing it for just about anything. If you have any questions, just ask in the Q&A when I put it up. I don't have a lot of things cemented, so there'll be opportunities to sandbox a lot of what's going on.

Post by Atik

Graveyard Crew
Silverpine Forest

The bowstring drew back and tight, although there was no arrow to be seen. The high elven girl took careful aim at the creature, It was a faceless one, a monster and an abomination. As it rushed for the camp below her tree, she locked onto its motions.

Olet let the string go, the elements flaring to life and leaping from her bow; slicing into the monster and tearing its face to shreds. She nodded, continuing to keep on the lookout.

Below, at the camp, several undead surrounded a make-shift table, illuminated by a nearby fire.

"This is insane, how do you plan to get into the Undercity while its under siege?" One of them, a blue-haired forsaken dressed in golden and blue mage robes asked.

The large undead in shining, dark purple armor sighed. "We'll go through the sewers..." He stated.

"The sewers will have been blocked, caved in!" The mage replied, somewhat agitated.

Also looking over the map was a female undead, dressed in tight black leather and with a blindfold covering her eyes, and an apothecary his face covered by a gas mask. The mage was Phillip Iceheart, the warrior Alexandros Hopewell, the woman Evora, and the apothecary Roger.

And then there was another, down by the water. She was dressed in loose clothing, staring at herself in the waves. An elf, nearly nine feet tall. Scars covered her, and her skin made it clear she had bee raised twice; stretched tight over her form.

Another shot rang out from the treetops.

Post by Neonhyper

Character: The Mortality of the Phoenix (Isilver, Nora Coglight, Feyai Ravensdale, Manx, Tuon)
Location: Ironforge
Description: The Mortality of the Phoenix is a mercenary group founded by the draenei, one time vindicator, Isilver, following the conclusion of the war against the Lich King. It's driving purpose is to give refuge and purpose to those that have found themselves without the latter, while conducting honorable work as sell-swords in order to make a difference.

Isilver herself is a ivory skinned draenei, with white hair cut to just below her chin. After having taken up control of the Mortality, she's often garbed in black leather gear. Her signature, wide brimmed hat with a feathered plume has cuts in it to make way for her upward-sticking horns. She wears a trenchcoat belted at the waist, and buttoned above the belt. Her weapons include a massive shield with large spikes she carries across her back, a crossbow, and a saber.

Nora Coglight is a gnomish priest, and Isilver's closest friend, as the two had worked together before Isilver formed the Mortality. She's short, as to be expected from a gnome, with raven hair beginning to grey wrapped in buns on either side of her head. Her normal attire after spending time with the Mortality is dark blue robes, belted with chains, with a deep hood and shoulders displaying the face of a blind woman. She keeps a dagger in a sheath at her waist.

Feyai Ravensdale is a worgen rogue, who prefers to stay in human form when not on the battlefield. She lost an eye in the battle that gave her her feral form, and wears a neat eyepatch over the gouged socket. She wears dark red leathers and keeps knives sheathed all around her person, but her main weapons are shortswords strapped to her back.

Manx is a draenei shaman, known very well for her laidback and rude attitude. Despite her talk to others, she keeps a very formal relationship with the Elements, and commands them with a fury. She has dark violet skin and wavy purple hair, with swept back horns. Her normal attire is usually flamboyant shirts and trousers, with bright colors of usually yellow and green fabrics, with a layer of chainmail underneath.

Tuon is Isilver's primary general when it comes to commanding the Mortality's forces. The heavy built, handsome female draenei warrior is known for her level-head and commanding presence. Her messy short brown hair and scarred, blue skin gives her a disheveled appearance, but her looks can be deceiving to her strategic mind. She carries a large axe and wear green-tinged, heavy bronze armor for protection.

---

"We had to put another soldier down," Fey said, swiping a blade across the wall and leaving a red stain that would probably not be coming out any time soon as she crossed the room. "Found him in his room screaming that he was drowning in blood, tried to kill us when we came to see what the commotion was."

Isilver, leaning against the war table in the middle of the room, knuckled her forehead and seethed, trying not to let her stress show, but failed. At the draenei's side, Nora stood on a chair and tried to give their leader a reassuring hand on the shoulder, but even the friendly gesture seemed to do nothing for Isilver's mood.

"I fear we might be finding ourselves besieged from the inside, at this rate," Tuon glanced back inside the building. It was even more run down that it used to be, the headquarters of the Mortality was an old warehouse in the depths of Ironforge, and after all that had begun to happen, it was in terrible shape.

The general leaned against the balcony and shook her head. "We can't keep this up," Tuon muttered. "Soon we'll run out of men."

Manx, seated on a sofa that looked like it was about to fall apart at any moment, opened her mouth and raised a hand, but pursed her lips closed and lowered her arm before she could complete a sentence or her gesture.

Character: Tyreal and Naia Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity
Description: Champion Blood Knight of Silvermoon, Tyreal is a blood elf woman who had more than she could have ever asked for, and lost much of it when Azeroth began to collapse. Her twin sister was lost on an assault in the early beginnings when the populace thought they had a chance to stand up instead of simply trying to survive. Later, she lost her eldest son to the madness. Young aspiring-magistrix, and Tyreal's daughter, Naia, isn't taking the situation any better.

Tyreal is an average blood elf, with dusty blonde hair that falls to her waist. Her Blood Knight uniform is battered and dusty from lack of care to keep it in the immaculate condition it once held. She has two obsidian blades, with crimson hilts studded with rubies, that she uses in a rare talent of dual-wielding as a paladin.

Naia is pre-teen with a powerful arcane talent, but has a lack of control of it, something that stresses her to no end considering the situation Azeroth is in. She has hair the same color as her mother's, cut short, and wears equally messy initiate robes of a trainee mage.

---

"Hold the gates!" Tyreal shouted, plunging a blade into one of the Faceless creatures trying to get past the barricades into the sewer entrance. She swallowed tightly, stepping back from the cursed black blood that splattered in every direction, before taking another swing to decapitated the monster.

At the base of the sewer entrance, Naia pressed herself up against the wall, with wide eyes as she listened to her mother's shouting and the echoes of battle. Even more disconcerting was the blank-eyed corpse strewn on the ground, with a knife in its back, from where a passing rogue had kept the mindless orc from killing her.

Post by Behelich

Character: Lisciel and Turinhil Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

An esteemed magister of Silvermoon, Lisciel was the happiest elf alive, living with his wife Tyreal and his three children - the elder, rash Glauron, and two twins, Naia and Turinhil - the latter an aspiring Blood Knight, and a former apprentice to Blood Lord Kareithel Arroval. The deaths of his sister-in-law and his eldest son drove him to the verge of madness, and though he endured, he aged past his time, now a half-broken shadow, clinging to the remnants of his family.

Though young, Turin sees now as his responsibility to protect his relatives, and the loss of his brother and his mentor - even though they never found the body of Lord Arroval - made him mature too fast. He has become ruthless and efficient with only his family managing to melt the emotionless mask.

Lisciel is a tall, frail elf with swiftly graying ashen blond hair. He can almost always be seen in crimson and red battlearmor of the Sunreavers, fighting with his staff and his sword.

Though pre-teen, Turinhil looks twice his age, clad in tar black plate armor and wielding a massive sword with dragon motifs - the only memento he has left from his mentor.

---

"Not this time, wretch," Turin spat, his claymore splitting a blank-eyed tauren leaping onto his twin sister in half. A human tried to creep on him from behind, only to have his face crushed all the way into his cranium by the young elf's elbow.

"More are coming! Hold the line!" came a high-pitched yell - a shriek, even - from Lisciel, who rained destruction on the swarming horde, bringing them down with deadly precision by ice lances that came out in dozens at a time from the tip of his staff.

Character: Hardcore Jaws and Cyrus
Location: ?

A coldblooded killing machine with a grim sense of humor and the most twisted, perverted and chaotic sadomasochist Quel'Thalas has ever known, these two - a death knight and a warlock - once served the greatest Blood Lord of all time, Kareithel Arroval, right until a fortress collapsed on him in one of the fights against the darkspawn. He survived, but fell into a coma, and now the two seek for a way to cure him, for they firmly believe he might be their only hope of standing up to the blight.

Hardcore Jaws is an elf of an average build, with slightly pale skin and a long ponytail of straw yellow hair. His lower jaw is hidden behind an over-sized prosthetic, and he fights with two gargantuan scythes.

Cyrus is a felblood elf, lacking however wings or horns, with a tongue at least one foot long. His skin is darkest green, with numerous cracks seething with fel, although that rarely can be seen due to his garments covering the entirety of his body.

---

"Thurprithed they haven't found uth yet," Cyrus muttered, looking out of the newly formed cave.

WE WILL ENDURE. THE MASTER WILL RISE, Jaws uttered.

Post by Neonhyper

Character: Tyreal and Naia Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

Naia nodded nervously at Turin, biting on her lower lip for only a brief moment, before a storm of arcane energy ripped from her hands, obliterating a man drawing a dagger behind her twin, "Come on!" she said, hearing the calls from down the pipe as she scrambled up the boxes leading to the sewer entrance. "We need to get up there!"

Tyreal sliced a blade down, cutting hands groping through the holes in the barricade. The workers repairing the fortifications were wide-eyed, trying to steady themselves as blood poured down the metal and wood they were trying to nail into place.

Character: The Mortality of the Phoenix (Isilver, Nora Coglight, Feyai Ravensdale, Manx, Tuon)
Location: Ironforge

"We've got a report from the main entrance!" a high elf man burst into the room, handing over the rolled up parchment to Isilver, who scanned the text even as the Quel'dorei blathered on. "The siege is lifted, for now, anyway."

"First good news in a while," Isilver muttered. "Manx, Fey, get everyone assembled," she jerked a thumb at the high elf and back at the worgen and draenei. "You, with them."

"Nora, Tuon, with me, we're going to go check to see how bad the damage is."

Post by Behelich

Character: Lisciel and Turinhil Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

Turinhil nodded grimly, shoving the sword down the scabbard in one rash movement and slamming himself against the boxes. He began to pull himself up, his gauntleted fingers leaving dents in the boxes from sheer angered effort he put into crawling.

"And now for something more, you bastards," Lisciel whispered, sending several small golden orbs through the holes in the barricades. Yelps from the other side came the moment the first orb slammed into the first mindless one, and a net of lightning engulfed him and two of his nearest fellows, charring them swiftly.

Post by Neonhyper

Character: Tyreal and Naia Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

Tyreal glanced over her shoulder at the sound of splashing behind her, only to find her kids trudging through the sewer muck towards them, "What are you two doing here?" she demanded.

"Helping!" Naia shouted, magic lighting up her palms as she tried to reinforce the cracks between the barricade with arcane.

Post by Atik

Graveyard Crew
Silverpine Forest

Nearly an hour had passed, Phillip and Alex bickering about the plan. Slowly, Roger had made his way over to the catapult near their camp; dragged from Gilneas up through the forest. He nodded, going to work repairing it as best he could. Six canisters of blight sat ready to be launched from the machine.

As he worked, Evora made her way over as well. "You think that thing will do much good?" She asked.

Roger's voice was muffled through his mask. "This stuff was engineered to kill anything. If it even holds up to half its promise, it might be our last hope..." He explained. "And you saw it all stockpiled down south... I think if anything, it gives us a fighting chance..." He nodded.

Evora noticeably paused. "Roger... what are you thinking?"

Roger looked at her, his desperation clear even through the mask. "An air drop..." He told her. "Once we get to the Undercity, we load up an air ship and drop it all over these Old Gods...."

Evora stared for a moment, sighing. "That might just be the craziest plan I've even heard..." She said, walking up and going to work on the machine.

Down by the waters, Alexandros made his way over to the elf. "Sataira...?" He asked. "You've been quiet..."

The death knight looked back at him. "All those horrible things I did..." She stated. "Do... do you think she'll ever forgive me?"

Alex sighed, siting down next to her. "I think she already has. You're her mother... I don't think she could not forgive you..."

The elf nodded, looking at their reflections in the water.

Post by Behelich

Character: Lisciel and Turinhil Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

"We will not stay behind, Knight-Commander," Turin intoned coldly, driving his claymore through one of the holes left unsealed and jerking it back, now covered with more brains and blood.

Post by Neonhyper

Character: Tyreal and Naia Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

Tyreal grimaced, but said nothing in response as she turned back to the barricade. She pushed down the memories drudging up, times when that cold tone would have been the furthest thing in her son's voice... she shook her head, dismembering a tentacle so that a board could be placed in the hole that it erupted from. Naia's seal was starting to solidify and the echoes of banging and smashing against the gate was the only thing that came through.

The Blood Knight sighed softly, "It'll hold. Not for long, but it'll hold."

Post by Behelich

Character: Lisciel and Turinhil Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

"If only we knew of a safer haven," Lisciel murmured, coming closer to Tyreal. Seeing his wife and his twin kids unharmed gave him the strength to live for another day.

"How are our supplies?"

"We're rotting alive here," Turin spat as he came down from the barricade. "We need to find a way to smuggle resources into this... this..."

He spat in disgust again, shaking his head. They deserved better. His brother deserved better.

Post by Neonhyper

Character: Tyreal and Naia Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

"We're running out," Naia said quietly. "Unless we can find some way to get in where they won't attack... we're going to starve," her voice shook carefully. The prospect had been there from the beginning, but the nearer it was becoming, the more daunting it became.

Tyreal shook her head, "I don't know what could be done. We sealed the elevator shafts and all the sewer entrances already. They started sieging any possible way in from the beginning."

Post by Atik

Graveyard Crew
Silverpine Forest

From her perch, Olet heard rustling. She turned and raised her bow, only to see Phillip climbing up to greet her. "Uncle Phil?" She asked.

"Thought you could use a break..." The battle mage stated, smiling as he sat down. "I know you want to go see your mom."

Olet sighed. "How can we still act like there is time for breaks?" She asked. "Every second, the elements become a little more unstable.... their being taken..."

Phillip placed an arm around her shoulder. "It'll be okay, trust me. We've been through worse."

Olet sighed. "No, we haven't. I mean.... what about Locronos? And all those other dragons? What about all the people everywhere who are dying?"

Phillip sighed. "Hey, don't worry, alright? I would bet my life twice over Locronos will find some way out. And there will be survivors; there always are." He hugged her reassuringly. "Now go on, I know there is someone you want to go see." He smiled.

Olet nodded, dropping from the tree. Turning towards the water, she began to run. "MOM!" She shouted.

Sataira turned, catching her daughter mid-run and hugging the shaman. "Oh, Olet..." She said, smiling. "You've gotten so big..."

"I've missed you mom..." Olet told her.

"I missed you too..." She replied. Alexandros stood, smiling as he returned to the make-shift table and examined the map.

"This thing should be ready in a few minutes..." Roger muttered. "Just gotta put this-YES!" He exclaimed as the engine started and the war machine roared to life.

Post by Behelich

Character: Lisciel and Turinhil Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

"A scrying spell and a portal afterwards for a quick raid," Turin suggested, leaning against the wall in mild tiredness. "There's bound to be someplace we could snatch food from."

"But enemy mages-" Lisciel began.

"Would have portaled inside here long ago if they could, Magister," Turin interrupted rudely, glaring at his father. "We cannot sit here and wait."

Post by Krutos

?
Undercity

A large orc was sitting at an inn in Undercity, sipping off a pint of ale. The orc had a light olive green skin and his head was shaved clean. The orc wore a scalemail hauberk and reinforced leather pants and boots. From what it seems, the orc's body is covered in runic tattoos his head and face included. From elbow down on his right arm he wears a slightly-larger-than-normal iron gauntlet. His left arm and hand are unarmoured. By him there is a large, two-handed hammer with a spiked arch or half of a halo on the top.

Post by Neonhyper

Character: Tyreal and Naia Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

"He has a point," Tyreal said, resting a gauntleted hand on Lisciel's shoulder.

Naia looked up at both of her parents, "Me and Turin can do it! I mean, you guys have to stay here to keep everyone defended, but we can slip out and nobody will notice!"

Post by Behelich

Character: Lisciel and Turinhil Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

"What she said. What is more, instead of keeping the portal open for us and risking letting the darkspawn inside, enchant a beacon for both us so that we can return anytime we want and from anywhere we wind up. Think you can do it?"

"Scrying spells are not my strong side, but beacons I can manage," Lisciel said slowly. "Will take some time, though," he added sourly. Neither the father nor the son brought up the possibility of the twins returning to the hideout already overrun.

Post by Neonhyper

Character: Tyreal and Naia Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

Tyreal lowered her head, gripping her husband's shoulder. Letting her kids run off in the wasteland of a world outside? After they had already lost one of them? She squeezed her eyes shut, and carefully blinked away the tears, "All right. I suggest you two get what you need to leave with while your father prepares."

Naia nodded, smiling brightly at her mother, and took Turin's hand before trying to drag her brother off back through the sewer.

Post by Atik

Graveyard Crew
Silverpine Forest

Several minutes later, as Roger checked the catapult's controls, the group was wheeling up the wagon of supplies; taken on their trek north for the Undercity. Food, water, and weapons. The five spare blight canisters sat on the machine's side, behind the front which was designed to look like a fearsome skull. The sixth was loaded into the arm, pulled back and ready to be launched.

The wagon was hooked to the back of the siege weapon, the group climbing within. Alexandros mounted a skeletal gryphon; Paragon.

The engine roared and sputtered as the group moved out, making their way towards tirisfal at a quick pace. A worgen wandered onto the road, his eyes blank as he looked at the approaching convoy. However, before he could charge, an ice lance lodge itself into his face from Phillip.

Alexandros nodded. "Let's get moving, no time to waste."

Post by Behelich

Character: Lisciel and Turinhil Dawnchaser
Location: Undercity

"Fetch the professional scouts before these two return," Lisciel said the moment Turin and Naia were out of hearing range. "I'm not losing them after Glauron and Ailya," he turned to his wife, grim determination on his face.

Turin marched after Naia in wide strides, his heavy boots slamming hard into the floor and raising small fountains of sewer water.

End of the World (of Warcraft) {Open RP}

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