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World of Warcraft: Darkest Before Dawn I: The Siege of Stormwind


Umbra

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Wilfred was pulled down by a creepy zombie. "Dammit. Can this be any worse?", he thought, when the zombie started craling over him. "It obviously can.", the paladin thought again, and chopped off the zombie's arms, so it couldn't crawl up anymore. Next, he stood up, covered in blood. Wilfred stabbed the zombie down to death. He grabbed one of the standing zombie's head, and slashed it, stabbing the zombie afterwards. He planned to use the head as a distraction device...

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[[OoC: Didn't Umbra specifically say that you can't summon Voidwalkers? And thanks for the praise, but I'm still quite rusty from not having RPed in ages. Wait till I get a few posts down]]

 

Aren't these things actually supposed to... die?

 

The Night Elf rogue watched as her decapitated victims began stirring, their decayed hands grasping at the feet of the warriors of the Alliance. True, Seraighin didn't have much of an experience fighting undead, but she did think the general rule of "when it has no head, you're on the safe side" applied. Obviously not here, though.

 

Now if she was a mage, she might have been able to do something about it, like blast them to pieces, or freeze them to motionless. But she was a rogue, and there was a basic, unofficial rule of engagement amongst rogues: if you can't kill it, leave it alone. Seraighin was no expert in the subject, but she knew that reanimated bodies were usually controlled by a necromancer of sorts. Perhaps if the individual who controlled these specific zombies was to be disposed of somehow, the corpses would actually stay corpses.

 

Since when did I start strategizing?

 

Now if she was a necromancer controlling armies of brainless minions, there was no chance she'd stay in the front lines, risking her life (or undead life, depending) when she could just have her ghouls do the dirty work. That scenario would make Seraighin's self-assigned task much easier, but it was purely irrealistic. To reach those necromancers, she'd have to go through them first. And when them was a throng of undead thirsting for your blood, Seraighin would rather be caught stealing by the Astranaar Sentinels a thousand times over than engage in this mad quest by herself. No, what she should do was to find an Alliance commander and make him see the sense of this, that it was pointless to try and hold the gates against the countless undead, and that it would be better to send a small, highly skilled assassination force to eliminate the supporting forces and cut off the army's seemingly endless supply of -

 

Wait a minute, when did she start thinking like that? She was no warrior, she was a thief for Elune's sake, and she came to Stormwind to pick pockets, not to help save the city - if it could be saved - against an army of undead. She should have been trying to find a way out, maybe through the sewers, or scale the walls, or...

 

Mentally cursing herself for being lost in thought, she ducked and flung her body back in an awkward maneouver, barely dodging the bloodlusted claws of a ghoul that seemed to have taken a liking to her hide. If there was such a thing as paying for your sins, the time seemed to have come for Seraighin. But the price was a little too sharp for her tastes.

 

The clinging noise of metal slashing against claw was swallowed in the chaos of battle, Seraighin's blade and the ghoul's claw repelling one another. The rogue smoothly ducked beneath a second strike, her other dagger slashing at the creature's neck. Though it struck, she had miscalculated the distance and the undead's reflexes - she only managed to open a minor wound. Howling in rage, the ghoul sped forwards, and its entire body slammed into the Night Elf, sending her smashing into the ground a few feet backwards.

 

Seraighin grunted as she tried to regain her balance, preferrably before the charging ghoul gutted her like a fish.

 

What have I gotten myself into?

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Wilfred was still dealing with the wawes of zombies incoming towards the Stormwind gates. The paladin backed up a little, realizing that the head will be of no help. He threw the improvized weapon away, engaging a sword-wielding zombie in battle. The zombie tried to cut off Wilfred's arm, but the paladin's quick reflexes saved it. Wilfred's attack was averagely fast, but powerful, and the Human paladin first stabbed his opponent, slicing him upwards next. The zombie was torn in half.

 

"If this continues, we will not survive unless some miracle happens. Where do they find such a big army?" Wilfred thought, and fought along with his fellow comrades. He spotted a young night elven rogue, fighting better than an average man would, but being attacked by a charging ghoul, with lesser chances to survive, since she was in an unbalanced stance at the moment. The paladin ran to her aid...

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OOC: Lulz everything shall die. And I must sig that. After this post, I shall.

 

IC:

 

Ugh...

 

Rae was running out of mana. This was bad, for two reasons. Firstly, she could no longer crush zombie face with her totems. Secondly, the considerably large zombie swarm surrounding her looked...hungry? Rae gulped. Being eaten by zombie scum didn't seem the nicest way to go. The paladin had been knocked down sometime earlier, and she'd lost him in the endless crowds of undead. The archer of her kin, she could see on the ramparts, shooting down Nerubians while a meager amount of warriors tried in vain to defend him. She was sure he would fall soon. Dodging another hungry zombie, she growled. She had no weapon against these things without her totems.

 

It seems fate was on her side, however, as just as Rae realized this, a zombie wielding a longsword fell just by her side. Picking it up, she rejoiced as it wasn't in that bad of a condition. Still holding the wand in her mouth, just in case, she brandished the longsword, and hearing fairly-human sounding grunts nearby, slashed her way through. They weren't dying, she noticed, but she didn't care. She wanted to get through, not to get dead fighting these things. Spotting a night elven rogue - probably the 'shadow' she'd seen earlier - fighting zombies, and the human paladin she'd lost earlier rushing for her, Rae grinned. So they weren't all dead.

 

Yet.

 

Rae ran forward, slashing the few zombies who got in the angry draenei's way. She had to reach the paladin and the rogue. Maybe together, they had a chance.

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Seraighin would have prayed, had she thought it would do any good in this situation. Had she thought anything would do any good in this situation. Pumping up her energy to her legs, she dodged the ghoul's initial assault with her superior speed, but the carpet of dead bodies underneath made dodging again difficult. As she blocked the claws once more with her knives, she was pushed back, and her feet landed on a pool of hot blood mixed with other, preferrably left unidentified, liquids. She lost her balance and fell on one knee, not an entirely hopeless defensive position; but at that time, a zombie merely inches away from her leg just had to suddenly ressurect, and the slimy hand grasping her ankle distracted her enough that her head was cleaved off her shoulders.

 

At least, that's what Seraighin would have sworn would happen, ninety-nine percent of the time you spend with your neck exposed and your guard lowered in the face of an angry undead. But by some strange twist of luck, the mortal strike never came, and the death throe that resounded in a moment of temporary calm was not hers - instead, her attacker had been impaled by one of her fellow warriors; and Seraighin didn't even pause to consider when they had suddenly become 'fellows'. Even in that unlikely rescue situation, Seraighin could not spare a moment to look upon her rescuer's face - sharp daggers cut off the hand and subsequently the head of the zombie which had ambushed her, and she kicked her foot free of the dismembered limb.

 

Panting slightly, she silently thanked Elune for her good luck - her insanely good luck - and turned around. The fighting was still fierce, but in that specific area, most undead were on the ground, at least somewhat dead, except the zombies who were feebly trying to rise again. She looked towards the direction of the man who had saved her. He was tall, his features distinctly human. That moment, she would have loved him even if he had been a Troll.

 

"Thank you." She said in broken common, leaning against a nearby wall. "You saved my life." As if he didn't know that already. But, in this situation, she found herself rather short on decent lines. With the corner of her eye, she saw one of the draenei rush towards them, awkwardly wielding a sword with both hands while holding a wand in her mouth, of all places.

 

How the hell had that one survived this far?

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Arael had long since climbed the latter of the wall, after helping Lethein that is, and was now aiming his rifle like weapon at the spider like creatures that were climbing the wall. The wall, however, was increasingly high and the spider like creatures could only skirt up it so fast. This gave the archers an edge at the moment, Areal took a long aim at the spiders then took a shot, but unlike the last shell this shell was spinning rapidly towards the spiders. When it hit one of the spiders it instantly flew back to the ground, taking two others with it, and when then wanted to climbed back up the wall they simply crashed into it instead of climbing.

 

Unfortunately for Arael he didn't see the spider to the right of him that tackled him off the wall. As they fell to the ground to the ground rapidly the spider continually tried to bite Arael, but Arael dodged these on comings as fast as they came. He eventually switched places with the spider, so that he was on top and the spider was on the bottom. They reached the ground and the spider hit first and then Arael hit the spiders body, causing a massive flow of spider guts and parts to fly in various direction. "No...this will not be my grave... I cannot! And will not! DIE HERE!" Arael then felt empowered by his own words as he scaled the wall one more time...

 

ooc: "Arael then felt empowered by his own words as he scaled the wall one more time..."

can I use that as an equivalent to leveling? <_< >_>

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Travitor sighed again and watched the impending zombies from a distance. His Stormzaber, Graal. Purred at the thought of battle. Travitor grunted and quickly lept onto Graal's back. Graal instinctivle launched himself and lept through the crowds torwards the onslaught. What spell should I cast? Should I entangle them? He shrugged mentally and raised his staff.

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Suddenly, you hear a battlecry. Not in the tongue of the undead, nor in the commonfolk's language, but in dwarven. "Tha' soldiers from Ironforge are here! Light bless us, they're here!"

Equipped in full plate armor, at least a hundred dwarves rushed to aid the defenders. The Stormwind Guard's ranks were heavily thinned out, and the dwarves were a welcome addition to the army. Lethien cheered. "Strike, my friends! Strike for all you're worth!"

 

Slowly, the defenders gain ground, holding the undead at bay and pushing them towards the outer gates. The battle now stands at the Silverhold Bridge, where the Scourge is barraged from both sides by the city defenders.

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Morthas could barely walked, but with help from his stick he could reach the bridge, with Nazrac slowly "walking" by him. "Damn you, mindless undeads!" He yelled, altough his powers was gone so that he couldn't attack, but the voidwalker charged into the mass of zombies and let out a fearsome scream that made all the zombies attack it. "If this is what you wish, master..." Nazrac said and killed about five zombies with his bare hands, but the horde of undead was not defeated.

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The half-elf looked at Arael. "Yes, ranger, of course! You'll do more damage on the walls than down here. Get up there!" Lethien shook a zombie off that had stuck to his fur, and led his troops toward the bridge. "For the Alliance!"

 

At the bridge, everything was chaos. Undead and men alike fell, their corpses either being trampled by the ravaging armies or dumped into the river below. Still, the majority of the undead were stuck on the bridge, the city gates closed behind them and their allies separated from them. The defenders were winning, and the Guard pushed on harder.

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Travitor quickly casted a tangle spell. The undead were relentless however and it only slowed them down for a while."Quick! Strike while they're entangled!" He was casting Moonfire on some undead near him. Graal roared and pounced on some, tearing their rotten flesh. "Whoa, easy boy!" Graal growled and pounced on another.

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"Only a little more! Push on, comrades!" Wilfred yelled, obviously trying to motivate everyone in the battle. The paladin himself engaged in battle with two zombies at once, and was in deep trouble. He called upon the wrath of God again, to banish the creatures. With both of them down, Wilfred ran to fight together with the night elf rogue from before. "Need any help?" he asked politely, as he sliced down a ghoul, ripping him apart.

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Rae grinned, facing the zombies fleeing across the bridge. She had regained all her mana and thrown away the sword. Currently she held in each hand a glowing red, burning totem, all too familiar after using it so many times in the previous battle. Grinning with a feral look in her eyes, she span and threw the totems in her usual style, one landing at the middle of the bridge, one at the opposite end. The fleeing zombies were trapped by two orange pillars of fire.

 

Burn baby burn...

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EDIT: OOC: Meh. Magical power, spirit power, there had to be an end to the totem-throwing sometime, and that was the logical excuse. I think we WOULD have mana.

 

Rae raised an eyebrow at the night elf beside her.

 

"You're one to talk. You and that beast of yours seem to be having fun." Rae looked ahead at the magical blaze.

 

"That said, I hate zombies. A lot. So I won't complain." As the blaze carried on, few zombies were left behind, and those that were fled. Rae grimaced.

 

"We'll have to take out whatever they're fleeing to for an end to this, and I'm not walking into that." She eyed the druid's beast.

 

"Mind giving me a ride?"

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OoC: It was literal. If you thought I was saying that as an excuse. It's not. Travitor was being sarcastic.

 

Travitor nodded. "Graal wouldn't mind it. Right Graal?" Graal gave a low moan and shifted his position to accomadate Rae. Travitor casted moonfire at a group of undead, and they burned in an eerie blue fire.

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So those degenerate Dwarves did actually prove useful for once.

 

Having gained a momentary reprieve from the chaos of war, Seraighin tore apart the corroded bodies of two more zombies with a few quick motions, and straightened. Behind her, the Paladin who had saved her was clearing up a few more, but generally, the fighting had died down in that area.

 

"What gave you the tip?" She asked sarcastically, responding to the Paladin's question. "The thousands of Scourge underlings waiting to tear us up?" She motioned with her dagger over to the undead gathered before them, held to a standstill by the incoming Dwarven reinforcements.

 

"My name is Seraighin Stardagger." She introduced herself politely. "What might yours be?"

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OOC: Like saying, "Can we hurry this up? I have a limo waiting outside?" or something like that, right?

 

IC:

 

Rae grinned at the night elf.

 

"Why thank you. And thank you, Graal." She petted the great creature.

 

"Oh, right. Can I ask your name, Mr. Night Elf? People know me as Raemire Starfall. But friends call me Rae." She smiled childishly, then jumped on the creature she now knew as Graal's back.

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OoC: Lol.

 

Travitor smirked. He had a feeling that he was gonna like this Draenei. "My name is Travitor Feralshadow. A druid." He casted moonfire again and bounded off into a bigger group of undead. Graal was enjoying himself, he crunched and crushed the undead he was landing on. He even stopped and peed a small pond of urine on a group of crushed undead.

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