I am my Demons
I am my Devils
I am my Desert
I am my Dust
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She shall not live, if she is unholy.
She shall not praise, if she is ungrateful.
She shall not serve, if she is unmoved.
To the Grey alone she trusts her judgement.
To the Grey alone she gives her thanks.
To the Grey alone she calls her father.
For in the Grey alone, are all truths revealed.
Nothing happened in the Cleft of Shadows.
Move along.
I had an event with them, they are pretty swell! Totally recommend it.
Dying crops!
Crazy cultists!
Government cover-ups!
What was that explosion in the Northern Barrens?! Why did the Horde attack itself at Razor Hill?! And just why is there singing coming from the bottom of my well?!
No futher questions, civilian! Now swallow your Blank, and always remember; awkward questions lead to tragic accidents!
Well! Its all a go go for the Dust Devils and co! The Grey plague that swept through Orgrimmar swept further still; digging its talons into the Northern Barrens, and as far south as Ratchet! And if that wasn’t bad enough, we’ve now got some weird cult -the so called “Grey Choir”- worshipping the plague as a god!
Fortunately, we were able to uncover the plan and stop their High Priestess from flooding all of Orgrimmar with the sickly grey goop - and thanks to a heroic intervention by some of our friends, Razor Hill didn’t fall into the Grey Choir’s hands either!
But! There’s no way we’ve heard the last of the Grey Choir. In fact, if anyone asks, you didn’t hear anything about them at all. See, it’d be so terribly bad for the Horde’s morale if the news of this virus were to spread. Why, people might evacuate Durotar en masse, and think of the blow to productivity! Better to keep all the stories to yourself, no?
Pain lashes through your body - you awaken; in a cold, damp cell. Gagged and bound to your chair, you barely have a moment to react, before a blinding, white spotlight illuminates the room. An elven woman is seated opposite you, dressed entirety in black; a symbol of the Horde on her sleeve. She leans forwards, smiling.
“Now then; lets have a little talk about exactly why you decided to squeal…”
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Kaitylinn screamed aloud; vicious, purple lightning surging through her writhing body - lighting up every last one of her long dead nerve endings with total, blistering agony.
She bellowed, and swore - and yet, for all her pleading, nobody was coming to help her. Nobody could. Bee, her hands ablaze with spluttering Light, lay scattered into a dying heap in the far corner; Denisha’s broken arm protruded at an ungodly angle from a nearby pile of rubble; she knew not the fate of Vivian and Conrad. Only Belithan stood tall - and yet, as the rancid General Corkskrew turned her foul magics upon him; Kaitylinn’s gut fell knowing that soon, he would be as burned, and dead, as the rest.
She had failed. The Dust Devils had failed. In assaulting the Company’s facility; so the Devils had walked right into the Company’s trap. And in but a single turn, had found every weapon, of every enemy they had ever faced, turned against them.
The clones of the Velvet Glove; the Ironsides of the New Order; the Soul Grinders of Serenity Falls; the Electriks of the Company - and finally, the lurid, maddening magics of the Joy Division, all bought against them, in terrible unison. It seemed, that in their mere four months of existence, the Dust Devils had made a great many enemies indeed; and now, they would pay the ultimate price for their meddling.
“DID YOU THINK…!”
The voice; every bit as gleeful as it was so utterly cruel, tore through her darkening thoughts - Belithan’s armour beginning to cook, and melt, as Corkskrew’s lightning tore into his form.
“FOR BUT A MOMENT!”
Corkskrew advanced; her smile wide, wider than her face her could carry - illuminated, her eyes were alive with the same purple madness, the same seething hatred, as her distant master, revelling in every single moment of her victory.
“THAT YOU COULD STOP THE FUTURE?!”
She bellowed; the lightning scouring from her finger tips twisting into a furious storm - burning and scalding every surface and piece of flesh it touched: igniting what it could, melting what it could not.
A clink; the tiniest of sounds - insignificant, over the howling inferno.
“No…”
Came another sound - a voice, as minute, and meaningless as the first.
“But we can sure as hell stop -you-”
Conrad smiled; a trail of ichor marking his crawl over to the facility’s pressure release vent - an open, empty hand signifying his release of the grenade he had once held between his fingertips. Vivian’s mask curled upwards; betraying her usual friendly smile - as she too revealed an empty hand.
A moment; the time delay on those same grenades - before the entire world shook.
“NO-!”
Corkskrew screamed; her purple eyes wide with horror - before being flung off her feet by the violence of the eruption, as the backwash of the detonating grenades ricochet upwards, then sideways, then through every last corner of the Company’s processing plant. Flammable materials erupted; pipes buckled and burst; machines expanded, then detonated.
“OVERSEER, OVERSEER-!”
Company Foreman Higgins yelled; stumbling through an already collapsing corridor into her superior’s office -
“THE DEVILS HAVE ERUPTED THE PRESSURE VALVE, THE ENTIRE FACILITY IS ABOUT TO- ?!”
She stopped; frozen to the spot. The Overseer’s office lay ruined; and empty - a missing escape pod betraying his cowardice.
“Oversee-!”
Higgins never finished her sentence; the wall of flame surging from behind putting a swift end to her, before exploding outwards - tearing the Overseer’s office apart into a blitz of a thousand pieces of shattered glass and ruined wood.
“And you can have the rest back -!”
Belithan yelled, flinging his shield outwards - its sharpened edge impaling the tumbling Corkskrew through the chest, slamming her hard into the ground. The purple lightning still coursing around its frame followed the trail of impact, surging back into its own master. Now it was her time to feel the sting of cursed magic.
“And we - should get the hell out of here”
Conrad grinned; one hand on Belithan’s shoulder - the other over his bleeding stomach, as already Denisha clawed her way from the rubble, snatching up the fallen Bee, and racing for the rapidly collapsing exit. Vivian’s loyal, winged steed, Doormat, slung nimbly through a tumbling wall; grabbing Kaitylinn in his claws, before catching Vivian about his back, and twirling to freedom.
Debris tumbled; fires raged; floors and ceilings collapsed even as shards of wood and metal, propelled by detonations, surged into the sky, impaling like spears into the ground around them. And yet, despite it all, by the hanging thread of some miracle - they had survived. The Dust Devils survived.
Turning; illuminated by the flames - Vivian, Conrad, Denisha, Bee, Belithan, and yes, Kaitylinn herself, witnessed the last of the Company’s base collapse into the earth. They had won; against all the odds, against every device their enemies could bring to bear against them; they had won. And it would be a long, long time, before any of their foes were ever allowed to forget it.
WELL!
What an explosive ending to the Dust Devil’s first year (well, sort of - we’ve only been around 3 months, but you get the point!) of existence!
What was supposed to be a simple in and out, cause as much havoc as you can, 20 minute adventure turned into a nightmare of the highest order, as all of our enemies, bought together by the sinister Palethorn Company, joined forces against us!
New Order; Velvet Glove; Serenity Falls - you name it; turns out the badguys talk, and what they talk about is how much they hate us meddling Dust Devils! A certain you-know-who even sent one of her most powerful minions, the self- proclaimed “General” Corkskrew, to personally oversee this league of evil - and ensure our demise! But, thanks to Belithan quite literally taking one for the team, Conrad and Vivian (our friends from other guilds!) were able to sneak over to the pressure valves, and give the Palethorn Company, and their villainous friends, QUITE the unexpected festive fireworks! A hell of a way to crash a party, I’m sure you’ll agree!!
STILL! Though they’re scattered for now, I’ve a nasty feeling that’s not the end of the threats we face; Palethorn might have egg on his face, and the Joy Division might go off to lick their wounds, bewail the loss of their General Corkskrew - but they’ll be back, with and bolder schemes than ever!
If anything; I think we’ve just made them mad - if they weren’t already! It’ll certainly be a busy 2020, that’s for sure!
Thanks so much to everyone who’s come to our events this year; within the guild’s ranks or not! We couldn’t do it without you guys - here’s to the more to come!
Happy New Year gamers; hopefully I’ll see you then! 
“The attack failed, your majesty”
The man spoke; his gaze lowered; his face concealed beneath heavy hood, and lurid mask.
"The Dust Devils were able to detonate Palethorn’s facility, and escape unharmed. I suggest- "
“DO NOT”
The voice came in return; female, lisping, and utterly artificial - echoed by the chorus of whirring machines and steaming pistons wired into her body, encased at an angle in some hideous, cage like device; more a blackened prison than life support engine.
“…Concern yourssself with them”.
She continued; her ruined, blackened lips curling upwards into a smile.
“They may have bought themssselvess a few sssecondss, minutesss of time…but cometh the hour, my friend…”
Her dull, pure white eyes scour to the left; observing as similarly hooded figures adjusted the dials on some vast, terrible engine.
“Victory ssshall chime, only for -me-”
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Good Guild
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I’ll say it straight:
The plan was ridiculous. Disorganised chaos - a light damned death trap, practically signing our lives away! Even I’d had ter do a double take at the thing, ter make sure ah’d read it right!
But then again, going up against the painted, drugged up freaks of the Joy Division? It couldn’t be anything BUT crazy! After all, the Division don’t play by the rules, so why the hell should we?
“BEE, WE GOT COMPANY-!”
So we broke ‘em; not that we ever followed rules much to begin with. More like - paid lip service to ‘em; tipped our hats, before ignoring ‘em altogether.
“YOU’RE TELLING ME-?!”
And that’s how we got here - the Dust Devils, and co; dressed up to the nines in the finest threads the New Order could buy, slap bang in the blistering heat of the Joy Division’s latest superweapon, with only a few good guns and a lot of good luck standing between us, and a real nasty ending.
Oh, did I mention the New Order threads? See, that was part of the plan; dress up as one set o’ badguys, ter assault another set o’ badguys, hoping ter prise their little alliance apart. Even managed to nab oursevles one of the Order’s Deathwagons, too - aha, but here I go, rambling over the good bits!
“I GOT 'EM, I GOT 'EM!”
Belithan bellowed; spinning the turret of the stolen wagon around, ramming both thumbs into the firing pins as the machine let loose, pulverising a slobbering onslaught of Joy Division troops, the so called “Euthanizers”, down into goo-sodden ribbons with a blitz of lead.
“GREAT, COULD USE SOME LEAD UP HERE TOO, IF YOU GOT IT-!”
Bee cursed, rolling to the side - missing by but an inch the golden tipped scythe slicing perilously close to her throat. Another cry arose from her; another rapid scramble backwards, as the electric device she’d slammed into fizzled and burst, emitting blistering jets of white-hot, purple steam.
“NOT HELPING, DENISHA!”
She calls down; her voice straining over the furious storm - herself and Conrad fighting for their lives at the very top of the Division’s floating machine, while Istu, Denisha, and Belithan struggled to keep their own intact assaulting the control panel, located in a separate building at its base.
“GIVE ME A BREAK, I’M KINDA OCCUPIED?!”
Denisha laughed; dizzied almost to fainting by the sheer maddening array of buttons and gizmos on the console before her - slamming her fists into every surface and against every lever she could find, in an attempt to do something, anything, to shut this infernal device down before it tore Northrend apart.
“HAVE YOU TRIED THE PURPLE ONE?!”
Conrad snarled; swinging his blade in a deliberately wide arc - slicing the head from the hysterical assailant before him, then ramming it hard into some of the machine’s protruding pipework, severing it apart in a fizzle of sparks and cracks. Bee, for her own part, slashed at wires, tore at gizmos; before she kicked her boot out hard, rammed a fresh assailant in the chest, reached into her bag, and hurled a jar of especially sticky honey into the exposed, clanking gears at the very heart of the hovering engine.
“THEY’RE ALL PURP- OH SCREW THIS!”
A vicious crack; Denisha’s skull impacted, hard against the control panel’s surface - a well placed headbutt, shattering metal and glass in every direction.
“Thank you for your input. Self Destruct sequence…initiated”
“…Huh”
Denisha shrugged; even as the machine began to topple and sink - it’s balance thrown by Conrad and Bee’s vicious, continuing sabotage.
“Wish I’d have tried that first”
Her sensible chuckle was drowned out by further gunfire, as Belithan pushed his newfound ride to the very limit of its destructive potential; meanwhile Istu preferred a more old fashioned approach, crushing his dribbling assailants beneath the weight of his fists. Whatever their preferred method of attack; whether through bullet, or blade, the Dust Devil’s combined efforts soon turned the corridors of the weapons’ base thick with sickly, purple ichor.
“OKAY, BEE! CONRAD! ONE MORE STRIKE, THEN GET THE HELL OUTTA THERE, THIS BIRD IS ABOUT TO -”
“Machine, this is General Skrewdriver. Cancel self destruct; divert FULL power to engine stabilisers-”
The voice; female, malicious, rang out over the chaos - Conrad’s eyes widened, as a gloved hand smothered his vision, before throwing him across the jagged surface of the machine’s floating platform as though he were trash for the pile.
“A nice try, Dust Devils. But honestly - we at the Divison might be stupid enough to insert a self destruct feature, but did you REALLY think we’d be so stupid as to not build in a failsafe, hmm?”
The woman -the excessive golden touches to her uniform identifying her as the self appointed General Skrewdriver - sneered, clutching her elaborate bladed polearm in hand, as she stalked towards her prey: lashes of scalding, purple lightning leaping from her form, a raw display of power intended to intimidate, as much as to harm.
“Honestly, darling. You’ve seen the gibbering idiots I work with. Why, they’d destroy this place in seconds given a chance. Somebody here had to have the brains, and why, that somebody was quite clearly m-”
She halted; mid sentence, a look of utter confusion about her rotten features. A blink; she observes her surroundings - no longer standing at the very top of her fierce machine, the winds of the storm wrapping about her, she now stood before the control panel, in the building at its base. Every scrap of ground smothered in bits of the men and women at her command; to the front of her, instead of the fallen, scrambling Conrad, she now witnessed a very tall, angry Tauren.
“…Sorry, that’s awfully rude of me. Little Death Knight trick of mine. I did hope you’d notice, but you people…do like your evil monologues, and it felt improper to interrupt”
Istu smiled; even as he grabbed the baffled woman - turning her around, to stare into the gaping tunnel that made up the central turret of Belithan’s Deathwagon.
“My friend here, however, will make no apologies for his own little party trick”
She never saw Belithan’s expression , as he pressed his thumbs once again into the wagon’s firing pins. She never heard his last words to her either; a shame, as they were surely legendary. She simply screamed in horror and rage, as the colossal shell impacted into her body, carrying her form with it, as it sliced through the air, finally making impact with the superweapons floundering, shuddering core.
“BEE- HOLD ON!”
Conrad’s hands grasped for the nearest protrusion, as the entire, disk like machine violently shuddered, then toppled sharply to the left, throwing the remainder of the Euthanizers down into the storm, each one disintegrating upon impact with the crackling lashes of lightning, as the engine began to tear itself apart.
“HOLD YOURSELF - COME ON!”
The woman called back - leaping downwards: snatching Conrad up with a thrust of magic, sweeping nimbly past surging electrics and collapsing debris; flying against the wind as she cartwheeled her way past every obstacle between herself, Conrad, and the surface.
A dull thud announced their sudden, untidy arrival in the back of Belithan’s open-topped wagon - Denisha already scrambling onto the turret, Istu close behind.
“…Comes in handy this thing you kn-”
“JUST DRIVE, BELITHAN!”
A little wounded; Belithan slammed the forward peddle down - Bee and Conrad adjusting themselves in the back seat, as the wagon tore at full speed down the shattering, erupting corridor.
“With respect, I don’t think we’ll make the exit-!”
Istu warned; nervously eyeing as a huge chunk of shattered, purple metal tore itself from the machine above, and slammed down into the corridor in front of them - slicing effortlessly through the ceiling, splitting their escape route in half.
“Then we’ll make our own exit - seatbelts!”
With a roar and whine of the engine; Belithan dragged the wagon screeching to the right, unleashing a final, devastating shot against the crumbling walls of the Division’s machine. Erupting in flames and a billow of smoke, the wall shattered like glass - anyone on the outside would have been certainly puzzled to see a green painted meatwagon burst through an eruption of concrete and steel, as the Dust Devils threw caution to the wind, and promptly forged their own way out of the death trap behind them!
“…Hands up Belithan is never allowed to drive again?”
Bee mumbled; the laughter of her comrades smothered out, as a final, vast explosion tore through the very last of the floating engine - now totally collapsed in on itself, tumbling into the building beneath, sending torrents of fire and smoke leaping upwards into the sky.
WELL!
How do you top a story like THAT?! An explosive end to the year, I’ll tell you - and certainly some fireworks for the start of 2020!
See, despite surviving the ambush in our last event, where almost every enemy the Dust Devils and co. have ever faced teamed up against us, we quickly learned that in dismantling the Company’s monopoly over Northrend’s precious Unobtanium (placeholder name, you understand), rather than driving the badguys underground as we hoped, we’d INSTEAD driven them out into the open - and turned Northrend into a god damned warzone!
Panicked into thinking their supply was about to be cut off (and worse still, that some OTHER jerk might get it first!), everyone from Serenity Falls to the Grey Choir - and yes, the New Order and the Joy Divison- had scrambled out, deploying their mightiest machines to gobble up the lion’s share of whatever remained!
Still, thanks to some clever sleuthing on our end, we managed to find their hideouts; and thanks to some even cleverer costuming, we’ve managed to convince the Division that the Order has turned against them - and vice versa- ensuring an “Avengers Assemble” style team up of villains will never happen again!
No time to rest on our laurels though! The gibbering lunatics of the Joy Division might have been flung from the continent, their tails between their legs; but the New Order (and the rest!), are still very much active - and getting their grubby mitts on as much Unobtanium as they can in the meantime!
Want to come help us stop them, before anyone can declare themselves top dog and conquer all of Azeroth?! Feel free to give me a poke in game; it’ll be a busy new year, that’s for sure!!
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So ah did a few calculations. Crunched the numbers. Analysed our chance of success; ran the odds that we’d run into trouble - you know, the whole ‘strategic planning’ kinda shtick.
“THEY’RE REAL ENERGETIC FOR CORPSES, KAITYLINN!”
Even went so far as to come up with at least seven different angles of attack; weighed the pros and cons of each, laid it all out on a spreadsheet! Still got it hanging on mah bedroom wall!
“SO ARE WE, KID - JUST KEEP SHOOTING!”
Took a real roll of the dice I did - but boy howdy, after the way it all turned out?
I gotta tell ya; I suck at math.
Kaitylinn bellowed over the sound of gunfire, throwing herself backwards just in time to avoid a pair of rotten, yellow teeth snapping around her thigh. Another deafening bark; another bullet leaps from her pistol - splattering the hideous creatures’ brains out backwards over its floundering body.
She curses; a second splatter erupts as she lands, her boots sinking into something soft, and wet - too sickened to look, she twists her pistol downwards, and empties the chamber, scrambling yet another zombie’s skull across the snow.
Conrad, raucous with laughter, swung his blade left and right; severing each and every corpse as it rose to meet him, whilst Denisha and Bee unleashed torrents of magic into the seething, endless carpet of bodies skittering towards them - their combined efforts smothering the clear white plains of Northrend green with ichor.
All in various states of dismemberment -each in various states of decay -, the writhing blanket of corpses scuttled forth on rotten limbs, groaning and gurgling; erupting like waves from ruined houses and broken rubble, a screeching mass of sharpened talons and putrid teeth.
Some wore the sickly green and pompous golden uniforms of the New Order; others donned the lurid purple and dizzying yellows of the Joy Divison; and still more, tragically, wore no uniform at all. Mere villagers, caught in the crossfire exchanged between the two bitter adversaries; a cruel twist of fate now saw all their frozen cadavers working together as the pawns of some unseen, shadowy necromancer.
-Tick-
Kaitylinn swore aloud; her pistol clicking harmlessly in the face of some rancid new assailant, its rounds finally running dry.
“Shouldn’t bring a gun ter a fist fight anyway!”
She snarled; ramming the weapon into the creature’s visage - grimacing as the decomposing flesh burst on impact with the still hot metal.
“Guess we’ll do this the old fashioned way - LOOK LIVLEY DEVILS, I’M GONNA LIGHT UP THE ROOM!”
A theatrical twist; the pastor swirls around, her hands wide open, gleaming with a burst of Holy Light - spat straight forth, directly into Conrad’s back.
“CONRAD!”
Kaitylinn screams in horror; unleashing a second bolt - surging over his armour, scalding the old warrior’s flesh. He screams; then disappears, swallowed then smothered under a surging torrent of the gnawing dead.
“NO-!”
Staggering, wide-eyed, she stares at her hands; sick to her stomach - before promptly blinding herself with a surge of her own burning magic, turned against her.
-Tock-
No act of penance; Kaitylinn collapsed, her legs given way - her entire body moving by somebody else’s command. Unable to see; her skin flared at the touch of a thousand clammy hands, pulling her down, ever down, into the darkness.
Away from her, Bee scrambled in vain - Denisha’s hand vice like around her throat, raising her into the air.
“I…c-can’t…stop…”
Denisha pleaded; her expression wrought with dismay, even as her arm pulled backwards, then released - hurling Bee’s brittle figure into a jutting fragment of stone.
-Tick-
-Tock-
“I can’t STOP!”
Another futile despair; Denisha’s legs playing against her every whim, racing forwards - her arms raising, ready to dig her nails into Bee’s scalp, and peel the very skin from her bones.
And always - that ticking, that infernal, endless ticking, boomed in her skull.
-Tick-
-Tock-
-Tick-
-Tock-Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock-Tick
“DENISHA, FOR THE GODS SAKE-!”
Bee called out to her friend turned combatant - the last sound she ever made, before a skeletal hand smothered her cries, and Denisha’s claw at her eyes blackened her vision.
-Tock…
WELL!
What a horror story - a quick trip back to Northrend turns into a real bloodbath, as the corpses of the long dead shudder to life, and some evil entity pits the Dust Devils against each other!
Buried in bodies; at our own throats - will the Devils survive?! Or is this the end of our plucky band of rag-tag do-gooders?!
You’ll have to tune in next time to find out; on next week’s episode of the Walking Dead!!
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Good guild
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A Titan machine, hijacked by the New Order!
An exploding zeppelin, with a N.U.K.U.L.A.R cargo!
An urgent request, from a mysterious stranger!
And of course, “you know who” up to the same old tricks - ready to unleash her most destructive weapon yet!
With the fate of the world in the balance, and Nzoth’s deadly whispers in everyone’s ear; can the Dust Devils maintain their sanity enough to fight off the forces of evil, or will the villains finally reign supreme!?
Tune in this Saturday morning at ten, only on the Argent Dawn forums!
Woah! Well, I’ve not updated this for 20 whole days, but that doesn’t mean the Dust Devils have been taking it easy, FAR from it!
From racing through Silithus to snatch the first of the Seven Orbs from under the future’s very nose (long story!); to racing the Velvet Glove through Stonetalon to grab the code to a lost N.U.K.U.L.A.R bomb; to stopping the Grey Choir from releasing their heathen god just in the nick of time - it seems as though the Dust Devils, and their fantastic friends, never get a break!
“But Kaitylinn!?”
Cries the one person who reads this thread!
“Where’s the sequel to that story you wrote on your last post?! You can’t leave us hanging like that!”
Aha, alas, I am a cruel mistress - I can, and I will!
…Until I actually force myself to get off my backside and finish the darn thing! It was a cracking event, full of action and adventure; but suffice to say, the ancient Titan machine made short work of the New Order long before we got on the scene, only to turn its furious attention on us! Took some jolly miracle to get us out of there alive, but I’m not giving away too many spoilers!
Still, no time to rest on our laurels; we might have scrambled out of Northrend with our tail between our legs, taken a detour through Stonetalon, and made a terrible mess of the Scorched Plain, but unfortunately, the bad guys don’t take a day off, and neither do we!
In fact, as we storm past our 6 month anniversary as a guild (GO TEAM!), they’re only getting angrier - there’s a storm coming friends, as a certain someone is finally ready to play her hand!
Want to join in our adventures, and see if we can keep evil at bay for another 6 months?! Just throw me a message, we’ll be happy to have you!
Dust Devils - let’s raise some Hell!
(It’s my mum by the way, the one person who reads my stories. She says they’re very nice, but when am I having those grandchildren she’s after?)
Also! Shout out to one of our oldest members, for single handedly writing the entire “Seven Orbs” plot, DM-ing and NPC-ing every event in its chain! We’re very proud of you buddy; eager to see where the story goes from here!
Lightning flashes; illuminating the old, dead mineshaft in brilliant light.
A young man, stands at the entrance - shivering, soaked to the bone, clutching in his hands an item of the most terrible power.
The voice of the dead, booms through his skull.
“AT LAST…MY BOY…”
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Cool folks, get in!
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Terrible storms, tearing through Azeroth!
A sinister cult, kidnapping trolls!
The screams of a god, from a nightmarish prison!
And the greatest enemy the Dust Devils have EVER faced -!
Is it all over for our plucky band of daredevil do-gooders?! Will all the world be torn apart by the Joy Division’s fierce machine?! Can we even make it to Northrend in time to stop them?!
Find out, on the next exciting episode of the Dust Devils - coming soon to a roleplay server near YOU!
WELL!
It’s all go go go here at Dust Devils HQ - that is, what’s left of it!
What started as a bit of bad weather soon turned murderous, as the ear-splitting thunder roared overhead; and furious lightning tore our encampment apart!
Fleeing in horror; we were set upon by gibbering trolls - and the very manifestation of a long forgotten Loa!
Screaming in pain; the Loa took out her full fury upon us - only by some miracle did we manage to calm her just long enough, to hear the plight of her people!
Turns out the Joy Division, under the command of their ghostly leader, have been enslaving trolls left and right; forcing them to worship at corrupted alters - pouring their wicked energy into her shackled body, which the Division then milk like a cow, all to power their world splitting storm cannon!
So far, we’ve managed to raid three of their foul temples; save the trolls, and heal a part of their Loa’s soul - but the battle is FAR from over!
She’s still up there, in Northrend; writhing and agonized - and the Joy Division have siphoned more than enough power already to reduce Durotar to a smouldering crater!
We’re desperately heading north; but will our plan to stop them survive contact with the enemy?!
Will we?!
Why not tag along to find out - right now, we need all the help we can get !!!
Stay safe, Azeroth! And stay indoors - the weather is DREADFUL!
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Oh no… no… Purple goop PTSD intensifies
(joe really gives great evil rp. which isbtw best form of erp. screw ertics. evils. thats what we like <3 112/10 can recomend that you Will need to call emergency foaming due to how brilliantly your characters get killed, enslaved and poisoned. all at the same time. by purple goop. also mutationed.)
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A god…at my feet.
A legion…at my command.
A storm…at my whim.
“Engines at full power; weapon 87% charged!”
For so long, have I waited…spurned, and forgotten…
Allowed by so many to die.
“Raise shields; set course for the centre point!”
But die…I could not.
Not so long as I hated.
And oh…how I hate them.
“Shields at maximum; brace for take-off!”
Why else…go to such effort?
Why else suffer such misery; or plan to inflict it?
For I assure you, every last ounce of my misery; every ember of my hatred…shall be rained down upon this…wretched planet…
“Delirium rising; ALL HAIL THE MASTER; ALL HAIL THE JOY DIVISION!”
And as my body burned…as my soul screamed…
So now…dear Azeroth…shall yours…
Less than ten.
Kaitylinn counted her comrades; her colleagues - her friends.
Denisha; Bee; Conrad…Selena, Ellie, Rosenfeld, and the rest.
She couldn’t put into words how much she loved them. Each of them; like family to her.
Some noticed her gaze; some smiled.
She gave no smile in return.
How could she? They were so few - against so many.
She dismissed the thought; laying down the reconnaissance maps, stained through with blood.
More had died to fetch these charts, than currently stood around her.
The fire of her cigar illuminates her features; her expression heavy, and worn.
“I think…”
She speaks, after a moment; her voice wavering, and low.
“We might lose this one.”
Hahaha! Thank you friend; you’re FAR too kind! <3 I can only apologise for any undue trauma or unexpected dismemberment I may have inflicted upon your precious brain children!
But yes; whilst villains are my speciality - the welfare of your characters might not be in the safest hands!
There’s still burnings, brainwashings, beatings and beastly bunting (what? Even super villains can’t resist those adorable little flags!) a plenty in the Dust Devil’s rogue’s gallery - ESPECIALLY now we’re up against the most super villain of all time!
Want to come give us a hand; and maybe risk life and limb in the process?! We can’t promise you’ll survive, but if you do, we’ve got a CRACKING buffet laid out for when we get home!
Sound worth it?! See you in Northrend soon, gamers - Azeroth could REALLY use the help!!
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Sometimes, a tiny movement; a single spark, is all it takes to burn an empire down…
“GENERAL! Invasion force spotted on the southern perimeter; four forsaken, and a tauren! All mounted! They must be coming for the prisoner-!”
“What?! A mere FIVE of them?! Pathetic; they’re crazier than we are! Activate the defence cannons, they’ll be butchered before they’ve even made it half a yard!”
“YEAH I NOTICED!”
Kaitylinn bellowed, yanking sharply on the reins; her risen beast flinging itself frantically to the side - missing by mere inches the seething torrent of lead intended to tear them apart.
A scream to her left; Doctor Grimsford’s, her mount bellowing as bones snapped and limbs shattered. They’d been less lucky.
“BEE-!”
McKenzie screamed; bolting off an urgent snap of levitating magic, to keep her battered comrade from slamming into the ground-
“I SURE HOPE SOMEBODY GOT A PLAN TER TAKE OUT THOSE GUNS, OR THIS IS GONNA BE A REAL SHORT TRIP-!”
Istu flung himself through the air, bullets shattering on impact with his armoured bulk; before his terrible blade came seething down, severing through the painted steel of the lurid machine as though it were paper. The defensive cannon fizzled and cracked; before erupting, totally coming apart in a shower of flame.
Selena’s free hand twisted, the other still controlling her steed; a rancid tendril of foulest void spluttered forth, pummelling through the underside of a second cannon -
“GENERAL! Another gun down; we’re almost -!”
“IDIOTS! Scramble the Meat Wagons, I dont want those RATS taking another STEP towards this base-!”
“But General! They’ll never penetrate the shie-!”
“Just scramble those wagons; FIVE BLOODY MINUTES AGO!”
Racous laughter, louder than even the storm of bullets, bellowed through the sky; the pilots of the Joy Division’s modified Meat Wagons howling with glee as they pulverised the horizon with grapeshot and flame.
Their comrades form a gun line around them, weapons primed, bayonets affixed, adding their own cackles to the chorus.
A moment of silence; shrouded with smoke, the first pilot’s chest swells with bravado. She screeches into her radio, proudly announcing to all the Joy Division that the Dust Devils have finally -!
Another screech; and not a good one. The pilot’s skull bursts apart, ruptured by Shadow, splattering her poisoned brains across the inside of the wagon. A warcry sounds; Denisha comes surging forth - her hands still ablaze, with plenty of Shadow left for the rest of them.
A flash of steel; a rush of void; a splattering of Holy Light. The battle commences.
“Ya done well ta make it this far, mons!”
The troll cultist gibbered and sneered; festooned in the same outrageous purples and golds as her undead conspirators.
“But ya nah be feeling dah joy o’ dah grin’mons; no way ya be making it through da mind sheil-!”
Selena clears her throat, dusting ichor from herself with a frown - shaking her head to better dismiss the lurid thoughts flooding her brain.
“Sorry; what was that? Neat little barrier, by the by -”
She steps forth, grinning; the troll woman’s eyes slowly widening with horror and rage
“Filtering the sound from the unsound of mind - only letting the most delirious through…Really, it’s brilliant…”
The translucent purple barrier shudders and groans - shapes, vaguely humanoid, begin to squeeze through, as if crawling through treacle…
“Two problems though. See, I’m already mad- and Istu…well, he’s a Death Knight, very good at raising the -mindless- to do his bidding…”
Her hand raises; already befouled with cursed, Void energy. Her tone darkens -
“Which means that your shield designed to specifically discriminate based on mindset…”
Itsu’s necrotic army shambles into formation behind her, unbroken, with the rest of the Dust Devils confidently taking the flanks. Selena smiles; it seems her sentence was finished for her.
“So, dear troll. Shall we dance?”
“KAITY, THE PLAN’S INSANE - THE POWER WILL KILL YOU?!”
Bee roared over the chaos; ducking and weaving behind the brainwashed trolls clawing and gnawing at her extremities. Denisha gave the poor souls no such quarter; blasting them apart with torrents of Shadow. No mercy to be shown; not to the Joy Division, nor to their unfortunate slaves, shackled to the worship of their polluted diety.
“AH KNOW DAMN WELL BEE; BUT WE DONT GOT NO CHOICE!”
The ground rumbles once more; columns of excess energy shudder and splutter from the construct ahead.
Not even the guzzling machines of the Joy Division can siphon the full power of a god; some of it has to be exhaled, sent to waste. But if we could turn that against them, give them more than they could ever handle…
An ancient trinket flies through the air. An icon of purity, a part of a soul; the form of a Loa, bringer of storms. Once dignified, she now lies enslaved.
Selena catches it nimbly, rolling into the side - the ruined body of a Marmaliser lying in a splattered heap to her rear. She throws Kaitylinn a nod; a final farewell. She knows what has to be done.
Against the sheer scale of corruption, the trinket does nothing; but with enough excess power behind it…!
“A-AAHA! NIC-NICE TRY, LITTLE DUST DOG!”
The Shredder pilot taunts - lifting Selena high off the ground, crushing her bones between its industrial claws. Itsu kneels; his stomach split, his hands soaked through with blood - mostly his own. Denisha lies crumbled on the pavement; nobody knows what became of Bee.
“But I’m afraid I’m going to have to SPLATTER your OTHER girlfriend as well!”
The maniac snarls; his voice triumphant, hysterical; almost drowned out by the buzzing roar of the serrated blade inching closer, and closer, to Selena’s throat…
She smiles. Her fingers beginning to twitch…
“G-GENERAL! T-they’ve defeated the Shredder, t-they-!”
“Imbeciles!! REJECTS! GAH! Fine, the bloody Mistress will deal with them; just get draining that LOA!”
“We face her together…?”
Selena smiles; sodden with ichor - the icon of a loa still held near her heart.
“Aye”
Itsu confirms; Denisha and Bee walking forth to join them,
“Together. DUST DEVILS…!”
“GENERAL! THE LOA IS DRAINED; DIVERTING ALL STORM POWER TO WEAPONS!”
“PRIMARY CANNON ONLINE: ORGRIMMAR IN RANGE!”
“SECONDARY CANNON ACTIVE: SILVERMOON TARGETED!”
“TERTIARY CANNON ALMOST READY: STORMWIND IN SIGHT!”
“Then what are we waiting for! Mistress; on your COMMAND!”
“But why, WHY do you SSSSTILL perssssissst?!”
The Mistress snarled and spat: her ghoulish spirit an icon of hatred; her very essence a bastion of filth.
The loa; screaming and agonised, writhes in the background, a prisoner in her own temple. Bound to the walls, her once divine figure now plundered with thundering pistons and suckling tubes - milked like cattle, the might of her storms siphoned to fuel the foul machines of the wicked.
Scalding lightning, the very power of that same god, surges from the Mistress’s fingertips - obliterating everything in range, setting the very air alight; burning stonework to dust, and flesh into cinders.
“Can’t you ssssssee?! Can’t you SSSSEE?!? I have WON! I have FINALLY won!”
A venomous glance; a single flick of her hand is enough to slam even Istu’s gargantuan figure into the furthest wall; stone crumbling and bones shattering on impact, discarded as naught but some plaything.
“I have a God in my grassssp! An ARMY at my command; a STORM at my CONTROL!”
Selena rushes forth; pummelling the woman with magic - she follows Itsu, thrown aside, her shattered figure scorched through at the touch of the spirit’s eviscerating, ongoing assault.
“And assss my body burned…sso ssshall the bodiessss of EVERY LASSST, man woman and CHILD currently living upon thisss MISSSERABLE little planet! Delirium -?!”
The mistress raises her voice; booming over the swell of thunder, echoing to the armoured zeppelin above-
“FIRE!”
And so, to that tiny movement. That single spark; to burn an empire down.
“You think you know pain?”
Selena poured every ounce of her strength into a smile; her body broken, her spirit ablaze.
“Feel the pain of a god…”
She flings the little trinket upwards. The icon of purity; carrying inside it, the smallest trace of a soul…
Kaitylinn roars; releasing the energy building below her - all the excess might of a Loa, discarded by the Joy Divison, about to be flung right back in their faces.
Coursing through her body, screaming blue murder - she blazes with the holiest Light…
Istu’s axe slams into the Mistresses’ figure - studded with curses, even a spirit can scream…
The leftover power, the rage of a god, guided by the Light, slams into the hovering trinket; then ruptures into the Loa itself, reuniting the soul with the body. Returning the strength to that which was drained.
And with a blinding white flash…
Rosenfeld smiles. The faintest glimmer of the Tidemother’s wrath leaving her hand…
It all happens at once.
The icon detonates. The Loa’s eyes open - a god has awoken.
Klaxons whine, engines erupt, warning lights flash: the Delirium shudders, splitting apart as the full power of an unshackled deity floods through its engines - its purple clad crew eviscerated by columns of fire and shards of debris.
“GENERAL-! The prisoner is loose; the ship cant handle-!”
Blinded with anger, the General grabs his Leuitenant by the throat; hurling him back across the command deck - outrage building with his every syllable:
“STAND - BY - YOUR - STATION…!”
The Tidemother’s fury slams into the Delirium’s underslung cannons; a second god, abetting he anger of the first.
Overloaded, the weapon detonates; one explosion comes, then another, and another. Chain reactions tear through the vast floating contraption, blasting apart cabin and crew, before the entire thing ruptures into a towering inferno - the General, and all his legion, evaporated in seconds.
The Loa bellows and roars; tearing through chains, breaking through bonds, shattering the cruel works of her captors.
The frustration of aeons scouring through her veins, she eyes the screaming architect of her imprisonment -
“We need to go, we need to go NOW!”
Istu roars over the carnage; deafened by the zeppelin exploding above, pelted by debris, as the temple complex-made-prison collapses around them.
Denisha in one arm; Selena in his wake, he lunges forth; narrowly clearing the chasm into which the floor had dissolved…
With a final, triumphant exhultation, the Loa sings her cry of freedom - before the remains of the Delirium slam through the ceiling, and brings all to silence.
Hello Argent Dawn. I am very tired.
I will finish this post tomorrow; but -
We did it. Against all the odds; by some miracle…
We did it.
Aw yeah, we so badass, I love you guys <3 Onwards to our next chapter!
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And we love you too, totally legal void priest! <4
Made a few quality of life improvements to the story - Gods, I cant write at 4am; though it may be bold of me to assume I can write at all!
But! Once again, our plucky gang of dare Devils have snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, and rescued Azeroth from the clutches of evil!
With the Joy Division’s zeppelin in tatters; their slave Loa released, and their Mistress destroyed(?!?) - the risk of the world being torn apart by storms has vanished for good! But has the Joy Division gone with it?! You’ll have to watch this space to find out!
But! For now, the Dust Devils will be returning to Orgrimmar, for a nice, well earned week off at the tavern!
…I wish! ;_;