[Last Minute Loyalist RP] The Fourth War ⚔

[Vaoto-argent-dawn]

A city of traitors. Cowards. Heretics.

Brighthorn spat at the very thought of serving under this new abomination of a Horde, yet… what choice remains? His duty is sworn. True to the Horde, true to the warchief. Whoever the warchief might be.

Even if it’ll be one of the fools who freely lets the boy-king, the sea-witch, and Bloodhoof step into what was once a city of warriors. The fools who would follow a senile old orc chasing after nostalgic dreams that never were.
Now, it’s nothing more than a den of cowards. Nevertheless, cowards need their guardians, which is precisely what he has sworn to be.

No matter what manners of unyielding rage might cloud his mind, Vaoto protects and serves. The Horde is all that matters.

And so, the grunt raises his spear once more and returns to his duties, with but one thought to comfort himself.

Saurfang lies slain. His delusions die with him.

[Turanil-argent-dawn]

Vengeance, retribution, justice. The concept blurred to Turanil.

The example at Ogrimmar, sowed only deeper, a gnarled thorn in his mind; the Alliance can’t be trusted to complete the vengeance of his people.

Returning to the forests, he brooded, his next plan already decided, only the details mattered.

But the war, it wasn’t over for him.

[Bramblecrest-argent-dawn]

She saw it on the faces of the elven refugees in passing. The disappointment and confusion at the trickling news from Kalimdor was clear, and no small amount of her kinsmen voiced their sympathies that very evening.

The Banshee had escaped justice.

The Horde had suffered no punishment for their actions - for their monstrosities at Darkshore. It was as though the thousands of slain innocents were simply cast aside, their cruel deaths unavenged and their spirits denied peace.

She did not know what to make of the rumours. She hadn’t been there.

Upon overhearing a ship’s captain mention a supply run set for the draenei isles, Jane Bramblecrest resolved to see for herself. To learn from the elves who would know the state of things, and how she could finally repay the kindnesses of the past.

[Koríane-argent-dawn]

There was no rest for the Prefect this night.

Her own men hated her. Not a surprise, but much more fiercely than she had expected. She was relieved to know no one came to claim her head during the night.

She thought of Elyrius. The Emissary had faith the fledgling Dark Ranger was still the Prefect he chose, but at what cost? His faith in her would ruin the Myrmidons’ faith in him. His wish for her to remain in her role would threaten the chances of some Myrmidons and Proselytes remaining. Perhaps it would be better if she just left.

She thought of Anna’lyssa. She did not blame the Ancillary for being emotional, the night was a tumultuous one, nor would Koriane hold a grudge over her initial ignorance of orders. But the hesitance to give her a semblance of trust was odd. Anna’lyssa had worked with the Queensguard, men and women who had, for the most part, remained who they were in life. She did not understand why it was so difficult to give the same trust.

She glanced down at the Myrmidons from the top floor of a Dawning Lane ruin, watching them carefully. It would all come together.

[Bloodshroud-argent-dawn (Bloodshroud)]

Check out some screenshots from last night.

https://imgur.com/a/RvtEuFN

[Kump-argent-dawn]

@Bloodshroud-argent-dawn

Check out some screenshots from last night.

[Album] Siege of Orgrimmar 2.0

Awesome ones there.