I just can’t stop entering this thread and watching the updates. The story looks genuinely great to me, with players facing dilemmas on a very refined scale. Brilliant!
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The Starfallen recently ventured to Dun Morogh after learning of one of their comrades’ questionable experiments and other unforgiveable sins. They ventured into the Gnomes’ laboratory, hoping to make him pay for his crimes - both past and present.
The Starfallen came face to face with three Black Blood infused Orcs; apprentices of the Doctor who fell subject to his mad experiments.
Maddened by imprisonment and the infusion of the dark blood, the Orcs attacked The Starfallen, who killed them all as an act of self defense and perhaps mercy. Though the end was not in sight - as the Doctor still had to pay for his sins. With the help of an imprisoned Night Elf, The Starfallen moved on from the Orcs.
Eventually, they had come to face with the Doctor - and put an end to his life, but not after The Starfallen had taken a beating from him in his Shadowflame Infused Wargolem.
Now, The Starfallen return back to Shattrath where they try to figure out what to do with the Night Elf they released from the Doctor’s grasp - and some to try and come to terms with the consequences of their actions of going against the Prophet’s advice.
Some, meanwhile, plan to venture into Stranglethorn prior to the Shadows in the Jungle campaign - to see if there is a link between something they had found prior, and the Shadowguard’s doing there.
A happy new year to everyone! 
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Prior to the Shadows in the Jungle campaign, The Starfallen ventured to Stranglethorn - to the fabled, and dubbed, ‘Uldamon’ that resides beneath the Vale. Here, they looked for any link between what they had unleashed in a previous expedition to ‘Uldamon’ and the reported disease that plagued the land as reported in a previous Assembly of Dusk.
Instead, what they found was an angered Blood Spirit, who - alike a parasite - had drained few of The Starfallen, including two, who suffered from having their mana drained.
They eventually sealed off this ‘Uldamon’, and returned to Shattrath, to make their preparations for the Shadowguard.
Shortly after their preparations were made, The Starfallen made their way to Stranglethorn Vale, joined by others of the Assembly (and friends). Here, they intended to make the Shadowguard pay for their failed assassination attempt upon their Prophet, and also put a stop to this plague of theirs.
After a long, painful week, The Starfallen and the Assembly were successful in their endeavours - and put a stop to the Shadowguard and their attempt to spread the so-called Shadowblood Plague.
For the time being, they remain in Stranglethorn to recover and mend their words, and aid in curing the Shadowblood Plague from those who unfortunately became afflicted with it.
An imgur album of screenshots provided by Kali’dreth.
An imgur album of screenshots provided by myself.
A big thank you to everyone who attended the Shadows in the Jungle campaign for a wonderful week of great and fun RP! And a tremendous thank you to all the organisers and DMs who made it possible!
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It’s been a great pleasure campaigning with you guys, and I shall see you again at the next Assembly!
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Meanwhile, in the place between what she remembers and what she understands...
The curtain rises. The scene is set; it is a place on the edge of a man’s sanity. Carved of stone and glass in the bowels of the earth, it bears a ceiling high enough to contain a giant; windows to the yawning abyss beyond shattered from neglect, the floor littered with debris from the march of time. Central is a large, circular platform, overseen by a jutting ledge. There is no path back up when one has jumped down. The scene commences at the doorway to this ledge; enter the Dark Sage, Obsidian Scion, Drowned Visionary, Cowled Mercenary, Wayward Lamb, and Knowledge Seeker. They arrive as a group, but pause as something catches their attention on stage.
Enter the Stellar Vagabond, in wait at the lip of the ledge. He is an Elf cowled in lies and the certainty of them, one he has told so often and so long he has forgotten it is a lie. He believes his words are a kindness, of sorts, and thus he speaks to the assembled, bearing gifts.
Stellar Vagabond, with gesture to his gift;
I set no bar to cross your chosen way.
My gathered flock, I come to ease your path.
I bring my blessing, such that you may meet
the force that ever swells in the darkness
between the stars; ravening, hungering.
No beast of qualm or reason nor desire,
you shall find, but only a creature of
prayer to be avoided. I plead, now,
to recall your place within this darkened
forest. No predator are you, ‘ere but
the smallest of prey. Your hearts are set and
your minds shall not be convinced. See now my
gift to you, my lesson in what shall be.Dark Sage, examining the gift;
Shepherd, why have you come?
Are your intentions truly so pure?
Why bring this gift, if you are so opposed to us;
so opposed to strive as
against your wishes? The Blood of Gods shall
ease our passage, that much is true, but your words hide
as much as they dare to
yet reveal. Who bears this gift, truly?The gift is five barrels of the Blood of Azj-Kahet. The Dark Sage takes her share of the gift, followed by the Obsidian Scion.
Stellar Vagabond, stepping to the centre of the ledge:
The gift is of the Second Scion, and
given unwillingly. She knows not that
it has been taken from her. She shall be
stirred to wroth to find its theft. The work is
too important, however, to fear it.
Know that there shall be no return from your
leap of faith, this encounter shall mark your
souls forever. To continue now is
to be changed in ways you cannot foresee.Cowled Mercenary;
Vagabond, am I still in your employ?The Stellar Vagabond nods an affirmation.
Dark Sage is first to make her leap of faith. She is followed by the Obsidian Scion, Drowned Visionary, Cowled Mercenary, and Wayward Lamb. The Knowledge Seeker hesitates upon the edge.
Knowledge Seeker, to himself:
There may ever be room for doubt in my mind, so great is this work.
before me. Yet it must be done, for their hearts are true, and I
know they would not mislead me. Faith, I must have, that our work will be
swift and that we shall emerge the victor. Yet my mind gnaws me
doubt and worry abound, yet I may still follow them 'til the end.Knowledge Seeker jumps down. The attending party spread themselves across the stage at precise intervals. The Dark Sage takes her anointed position as their leader and guide in the summoning. Knowledge Seeker and the Drowned Visionary exchange nervous glances. The Cowled Mercenary and Obsidian Scion prepare themselves for what is to come. The Wayward Lamb remains impassive, as if attempting to reveal as little as possible.
Dark Sage begins weaving her spell of shadow and stars. The lights plunge, leaving only the silhouette of the gathered Starfallen; the lights are replaced with smaller, weaker lights, for the audience to see. The Dark Sage’s spellwork is intricate, as it must be, to call forth the attention of a creature of this magnitude.
The Hunger Between the Stars begins to manifest. It enters from centre stage from above, the trapdoor ornamented with immensities of darkness and trails of fabric, suggestive of a gaping maw. It has not yet entered the stage proper.
Dark Sage, deep in ritual:
Our Shepherd, coward that
he is, believes our cause futile. I
shall prove him wrong. I fear this beast not, for many
times have those of this world
stood defiant, at the precipice
of oblivion, and prevailed against odds said
insurmountable. My
people stood 'gainst the red and blue, and
escaped their clutches. Against shadow and strife, alone
we emerged. This is but
another test, and one I know we
shall triumph in. Let him see the strength of our world!
We have the right to try.A portal opens upon the upper platform. The Stellar Vagabond is joined by the Revenant Arcanist, who is first to step out. She is then joined by the Desert Spring, Magister Addict, and Filigreed Noble.
Enter the Devoured, disgorged from the Hunter Between the Stars’ mouth. Spectral souls of those, not of Azeroth’s native races, but of the many worlds this beast has devoured. Each has been twisted beyond recognition by long exposure to the maddening void; the Stellar Vagabond averts his gaze upon seeing this, a painful memory.
Devoured, speaking in a dissonant chorus. The foremost speak clearly and in the common tongue, while fewer - to the back, quieter and muffled, as to avoid speaking over those present - speak in languages clearly not of Azeroth;
Witness us,
Our wretched fate.
We who know
The true price of
defiance.
Memories now,
of bygone
Homes, forever
struck from the
waking world. Now,
hear us, we
who have no voice.
Learn from us,
The cost of what
is to come.The Dark Sage continues her calling. The gathered Black Blood vanishes as something otherworldly devours the offering, and the trapdoor opens in full to allow the next entry to the stage.
Enter the Hunger Between the Stars, in aspect, not totality. It is a thick, serpentine shape of smoke and shadow, marked not by its physical presence but by the void of light that accompanies its movements. It coils and twists about in the air, naught but the shadow upon a wall of the true, incomprehensible beast.
The Devoured scream in terror at the sight of that which devoured their world.The stage tilts, a second yawning maw opening, as if it is attempting to devour those upon the gathered platform.
Devoured, their speech periodically interrupted with the wailing of the mournful dead;
Witness now, the price of
your defiance. See now
the consequence to your
futility. Heed now,
the wailing of
the mournful dead.
For you shall soon
join our chorus.The Drowned Visionary screams, placing her hands over her ears. She loses her footing and begins to slide across the floor, towards that yawning mouth. Her fingers, slick with blood, find no purchase on the platform to avert her fate. The remainder are more fortunate.
Dark Sage calls to the Obsidian Scion, who takes his true form; not an Elf, but a long scaled dragon, gold of hue and black of scale. The Obsidian Scion takes wing and hovers with mighty wingbeats in the air. Obsidian Scion inhales, and from his own maw is birthed a torrent of all-devouring flame, consumed and snuffed out by the behemoth of smoke and shadow, the orange tongues taken into itself and devoured.
Dark Sage calls forth her torrent of shadow magic to the Hunger Between the Stars, and watches as this, too, is taken into the hungering titan. Dark Sage grows erratic and takes a step or two back; perhaps now it has dawned upon her that she has plunged far into the depths with no recourse for safety. The Hunger Between the Stars descends further, and begins to coil itself around the Obsidian Scion. The wingbeats cease as the greater of the two predators begins to crush the life from the Dragon. Fear turns to horror.
Dark Sage, calling to the Wayward Lamb;
Strike now, my student, let
your arrow fly true. Save the Scion,
strike the beast, and we may yet claw another day.Wayward Lamb aligns her bow not at the Hunger Between the Stars, but at the Dark Sage. Her arrow loose, she beseeches the Hunger Between the Stars, revealing her true nature as the Last Voice. The Dark Sage howls in pain as the arrow slices through her flesh and lodges in her belly.
Last Voice, her tone that of a beggar, pleading;
I strike a bargain to you now,
They shall serve you, in all things, in all ways,
just as I have chosen to do.
Let their destiny and yours entwine, but
spare their lives and you shall have your
servants.You shall have your promised heralds!The Devoured move upon the Cowled Mercenary, beseeching him to join their number. The Cowled Mercenary strikes them with his blades, and they recoil from him, yet circle as vultures. The Drowned Visionary finds purchase at last, and watches the scene unfold in horror. Blood soaks her hands and hair.
The Obsidian Scion falls to the platform, convulsing and writhing. Flickers of light ripple across his scaled bulk like a starry night, and yet these fade only to the cold, immutable hue of ink. He withers slowly back to his Elven guise. The Hunger Between the Stars discards him like a broken toy, and turns its attention to the Dark Sage.
Devoured, eager to welcome a new member to their chorus after being denied;
Why defy that which devours all
things? Why stand so proudly, against
Grandfather Eternity? That
who consumes the stars and worlds and
all who dwell there?
What sense is there
to your vain hope?
What chance, have you?The Cowled Mercenary, thus far a minor player, throws his own attempt at the Hunger Between the Stars. An explosive of Arathi making, it detonates against the smoke and shadow. The Hunger Between the Stars shrieks its annoyance.
Dark Sage, defiance she does not believe in ‘pon her lips;
I fear you not, for you
shall be bested. Not in my time nor
by my hand, but it shall come. Your day and hour, as
it is with all things. There
shall be a people too defiant
and too mighty, too unyielding, even against
your great power. Be that-The Dark Sage explodes. The arrowhead erupts in a cloud of void energies, smearing her innards across the floor. The Devoured approach the remains of Dark Sage, eager to welcome her to their chorus, but halt for reasons unclear. Hunger Between the Stars retreats within the trapdoor once again, and the Devoured exit alongside it. It does not appear that the Cowled Mercenary has so much as drawn a crumb of its attention.
The Final Voice sinks to her knees, a sob upon her lips;
My mentor and teacher, you who
offered my comfort upon my change. I
never meant for this to be. I
only wanted for you to see sense! To
see the foolishness of your ways.
Now, what chance do you have to be saved, as
I will be saved, at the last hour?
Might my gratitude never be repaid?The Obsidian Scion crawls, still pained by the crushing grip of the Hunger Between the Stars. He gently touches the Dark Sage’s bisected body, feeling the warmth fade. The Drowned Visionary, and all others present, find their own midsections gripped in sympathetic agony, as if they too have been ripped in twain.
Those upon the ledge watch, impassively. The Revenant Arcanist appears grave, and disappointed. The Stellar Vagabond returns his gaze to those gathered, beholding the gory scene before him. He offers a brief spell of aid, allowing the Drowned Visionary to return, who exits to the left without word nor concern for her fellows. The Desert Spring watches on only with horror. The Magister Addict and Filigreed Noble feign an aloof quality to their silent observation.
The curtain descends.
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There had been reports of unnatural beasts on the shores of Kul Tiras – Stormsong Valley, to be exact, and The Starfallen recently ventured there to look into the mystery of these reported ‘unnatural beasts’. Snapdragons and fish of corrupted varieties had attacked The Starfallen; all defeated. Though the attacks did not stop there:
An unnatural storm was battering them on either side, spurred on by Naga Sirens – and The Starfallen had defeated most (and their behemoth of bird companions!), with a singular one escaping. Though, a body was found by part of the group which showed Naga growing extra appendages; a sign of the Naga using Black Blood.
Eventually, The Starfallen came to the conclusion that they had to put a stop to it, lest it got worse.
They tracked down the Naga to a raised island off the coast of Kul Tiras, and found a hatchery of beasts being created with Black Blood infusion. Putting a stop to it, and Mindbenders turning the group against one another, the island sunk and The Starfallen abandoned – leaving the Siren, once more, to get away.
But the Siren would not live much longer; for The Starfallen had tracked down the Siren to her final resting place beneath the seas. Utilising scrolls gifted to them by their Tortollan hosts, The Starfallen made their way to the middle of the seas – to be greeted by a behemoth beneath the seas, an area where the Naga had been operating from, or rather, inside.
Eventually, The Starfallen had ended the operations – with the Siren being destroyed, as well as the behemoth host being destroyed under the immense pressure of the sea – and they made their way back to their current camp. Though, it was not without repurcussion, as one of them had the Black Blood within his own body manipulated to turn him into a grotesque half-naga beast by the Siren.
Eventually, the group were left with this issue upon their hands, and not much space to figure out what to do. They worked together to solve the issue, or most of it.
For now, some have left to continue their own schemes, whilst others stay to help those injured.
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Things have been quiet for the majority of The Starfallen since the previous update.
For a few, they have communed with the fabled Entity once more, with another joining the chorus of lost souls knowing the bargain they have to pay.
For others, they have remained in Shattrath, – or wherever their daily life takes them – waiting for the next time they are summoned.
However, something stirs in Northrend.
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On behalf of my unit, I would just like to apologise for our duplicitous, disgraceful, and violent behaviour. Surely we can let bygones be bygones? (thanks for another great campaign, we love you guys)
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Murozond’s rebirth had failed; foiled by the Champions of Azeroth.
The Alliance with Iridikron had fallen through; he had abandoned them in their time of need. And Deios was slain at the Dawn of the Aspects. And all the while, others of their kin had betrayed them and allied with those whose servitude lay completely with the Titans.
“Ridiculous,” A drake hissed in its native tongue. “The Titans protect only themselves – only care for themselves! And she has betrayed us!”
“Do not worry, clutch-brother.” Another drake responded in an effeminate tone. “For we still exist; we, of the true Infinite Dragonflight. And with our combined strength, we can finish what Deios started; we can remove their Aspectral power.”
Within Valdrakken, cries for aid from the Bronze Dragonflight echoed from the largest spires to even the most well walked path, and The Starfallen heeded the call. They had ventured to Storm Peaks, as asked by the Bronze Dragonflight and by extension, the Titanforged, with aid in destroying a disguised Void artefact by the name of the Skein of Fate. Though, upon arriving at their home for the week, they were joined the Corpsegrin Irregulars, who supposedly arrived here at the word of Old God involvement.
The two guilds, once more, had to work together to put a stop to this supposed Void artefact.
With their combined forces, they came across Infinite Dragons that claimed they were planning on doing what Deios could not – to turn back time and steal the Aspects’ powers once, to end the Aspects and bring Murozond back once and for all, and with the power of the Skein they could finally fulfill their goals.
A battle ensued with the Infinites, hoping that they could steal the Skein there and destroy it once and for all. However, what they did not expect was the Infinites to reverse their own injuries as though they never happened – and to utilise whelps to swarm against the two guilds. In time, however, the Infinites escaped from the wrath of the two guilds.
Putting the guilds’ heads together, they devised a plan together: to utilise abandoned gyorcopters and dirigibles within the Storm Peaks, and also acquire Sands of Time to reverse the Infinite Dragon’s chronomancy to be able to injure them without them turning back the clock and reversing their injuries.
Though, there were other matters at play: the Void. Sixtus Rotwild, the Lieutenant of the Corpsegrin Irregulars had been trapped in a temporal loop, and the group was infiltrated by a Faceless One. But for what reason?
After allowing the Faceless One to escape, and salvaging what they could from abandoned gyrocopters and dirigibles, a small expedition set out to Dragonblight to acquire Sand of Time to give it to their mages to cast a ‘Counterspell’ that would stop the Infinites from casting. But what they did not expect was another Infinite wyrm to be there; they had walked into a trap.
Though, once more, this Infinite escaped as swiftly as she appeared, to leave the two guilds to their own devices and acquire the Sand of Time.
Eventually, the time had come to finally chase and destroy these Infinites once and for all: the final showdown.
The Infinites succeeded in powering the Skein of Fate for their own dastardly deeds, though what they did not expect was the Skein to react as dangerously as it did: the Skein, as reported, was the Void artefact An’qoth Shuu in disguise, and was used to corrupt these Infinite dragons into beasts of the Void, in servitude to the Old Gods.
In time, The Starfallen and Corpsegrin Irregulars worked together to destroy these Infinite dragons once and for all, and left the matter of the Skein – which pulsated Void energies dangerously consistently.
A plan was utilised to weaken it with one of the dragons’ soul, then melt it with jormungar acid. To their eyes, it exploded into a millions pieces, and eventually would melt to become nothing like the Titanforged wished for. Though, only time will tell what truly happened to this artefact…
A big thank you to the Corpsegrin Irregulars and especially Halfsilver and their NPC team for helping us with this campaign, an absolute blast to work with them once again! 
Another big thank you to Kali’dreth for letting me use her screenshots for the forum post!
You will be hearing from my lawyer.
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Somewhere, in one of the many destitute houses of Hovel Hill, a singular goblin sits on a relatively comfy, but incredibly old and dirty, armchair.
A clock ticks in the background, counting the seconds down. His eyes watch the hands move slow at first, then slower, then completely halt – the batteries powering it having now been emptied.
“For f-.”
A explosion of fireworks set off right outside his window, interrupting his curse. Cheers follow behind; yells overlapping with applause and cries:
“Gallywix sucks!”
“Renzik was a hero!”
A bunch of cartel-loving nobodies, the goblin makes a mental note. Still, such cries have become common in recent times. Gazlowe had somehow made himself one of the more important people of Undermine, and the goblin hated everything about him. His stupid hat; his smug aura, his stupid fur-lined jacket that looked expensive – it irritated him.
Trumpets begin to sing as ‘night’ encroaches, and the goblin continues to stare at the clock way into the night. Since Gallywix’s death, it is all he’s done; all he’s been capable of doing. Simply staring at the clock and watching time pass. For what was he without the Darkfuse? Nothing. He was just a nobody.
Gazlek Greedbelt was his name; an ex-Darkfuse bruiser. One of many. One, who had successfully smuggled Black Blood weapons into Undermine in the past under Gallywix’s command, and knew exactly where there were still some even after the revolutionaries essentially torched and destroyed the supplies. A goblin always gotta have a backup plan.
As the trumpets continued to sing, slow drums joined – with a feminine voice beginning to hum and murmur words in the background. Gazlek decided to peel his eyes from the same clock he has stared out for days by now, and finally jot down his thoughts into a rather unextraordinary journal of his. A journal that was once a gift from his mother to him on his twentieth journal; his mother who unfortunately passed away a few years back from unnatural causes.
And so, he wrote:
Undermine, Undermine, Undermine… What a worthless town…
Jastor Gallywix was dead, destroyed by revolutionaries who wished to ‘turn the town to the better’. Though was Undermine ever going to get better? Inside the city there was greed and corruption; scams and schemes – anything illegal you can think of, it’s happening in the town. Even with the Cartels’ trying to sort it out, they can’t – it’s in Undermines’ lifeblood.
Still, Gallywixs’ death has left some of us without a job. Us who were there at the doorstep of the Gallagio when the Bilgewater Rat (that’s Gazlowe, by the way). Who woulda thunk that the death of Gallywix would have made us redundant? Not me, s’why I never planned a backup plan if these revolutionaries actually won. Or actually had the time to think of a backup plan in-case Gallywix died. Honestly, I can’t believe he’s dead – thought that Chrome King-thingamajig might have kept him alive, turns out these ‘Champions of Azeroth’ are pretty solid.
Either way, there’s goblins working for the Bilgewater coming ‘round Hovel Hill every day now, looking for anything that the Darkfuse mighta left before we get kicked out. Not me though; they ain’t gonna find my secret stash of weapons – I might need it as part of a new job, if I ever get one. I was a pretty solid bruiser for the Darkfuse, pretty sure the Horde might need someone like me at some point, especially with these Bloody weapons of Gallywix’s. Or even some evil guys who want to destroy some humies or whatever. I’m sure a job opportunity will happen upon me at some point.
Just gotta keep watching the clock I suppose.
Miss ya ma,
Gazlek
Soon, The Starfallen will be making their way to Undermine. But for what reason do they have to engage with a post-revolution Goblin city? Only time will tell…
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And, as the rest of the Starfallen prepare to head into the Undermine, Vasaar Duskfield keeps his eyes open for any potential recruits.
Should you be interested, we’re opening a spot or two! 
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Recently, The Starfallen have returned from Undermine – where a certain persons’ paranoia has taken the foreground to lead them to induldge in his whims, and schemes.
Although, his schemes are shoddy at best, and tensions, once more, rise within The Starfallen – insults are thrown left, right and centre, and even betrayals are imminent.
Though, it is a distraction from the true end goal of The Starfallen; one that they will not soon forget.
Thank you to Kali’dreth for providing the first screenshot!
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Interlude I
The curtain rises. The scene is set. The stone walls and purple-tiled roof show a clear locale; the Mage’s Quarter of Stormwind, marked by the enormous tower and its spiral staircase. It is a place familiar to any attending, and assuredly safe for almost all. The Visionary enters, and it is clear she is out of place. She is unusually animated and dressed in an old truth, now turned into a lie; the attire of a Tidesage, ill-fitting upon her gaunt figure. She carries another lie; an energy and animation to her speech and movements that does not suit her, an attempt to disguise herself. She awaits at a location she believes is inconspicuous. It is a leafy alleyway, not often tread upon bar those seeking to use the stores available within.
Enter the Cerulean Conjurer.
Visionary, with feigned energy;
Mister Hollington, please; you lead the way.
To somewhere nice and discreet, I would say.Conjurer, with irritation;
I do not do discreet.
Inner streets are quiet.The Conjurer leads her Stage Left. The air shimmers around him as he prepares a magical shield, but makes no motion to attack - yet he is on edge, plain to see.
Visionary, beginning to rummage through her belongings;
You have been warned already, you said in your letter.
May I ask what was said and warned by this abettor?Conjurer;
Cryptic warnings, and very little more.
Secret betrayal planned against my own.Visionary;
I have found myself involved in a plot.
A plot against you, though not on your life.
An ambush planned to divert attention,
Dark magic and foul blood would fuel this strife.The Conjurer reacts with amusement;
For what reason would someone try to kill me?
And who would mean to do such a thing?The Visionary produces a set of incriminating papers;
From the dark water port, we stole foul blood.
I have the papers here which should prove that.
Black blood can be found in streams and in floods,
Leftover from the chrome king’s cruel rein.The Conjurer narrows his eyes. He appears more weary than angry, though;
You know who schemes, in this plot on my life.
But you would not tell me, would you? Why not?The Visionary produces a second set of incriminating papers;
The blood is not held by who gave command,
It is mercenaries, who possess it.
It is important that you understand;
It is only bait to lure and trap you.When the time is right, they will lay their bait.
It is a means to draw your eyes away.
And patient, there for you, they will await,
And other matters, they seek to resolve.The Conjurer tilts his head. If he believes the warning is unclear, but he is listening. He has also noticed she avoided answering him;
But why target me? They must have reasons.
Tell me, stranger; the Lady Anyra.
Would this name mean anything, to your mind?The Visionary shakes her head;
Their reasons are their own, but not of blood;
At least, not in the sense you are thinking.
That name has no meaning; you think it should?The Visionary produces a final piece of evidence in this conspiracy, and presents it to the Conjurer. It is a firearm, recognisable as Goblin Craftsmanship; one of the rare GallyTech weapons, infused with the dark power of dead Gods;
In this scheme, they had wanted the dark arms.
I would choose otherwise; and withheld them.The Conjurer slowly lifts a hand to his face, gently cradling his chin with his thumb and forefinger as he digests the warning, and attempts to decipher what is being deliberately withheld from him;
You have come to warn me of this plot.
Still, you protect its orchestrator.
Yet you want them to fail all the same.
I have encountered these foul things, and yet
I am standing still. Your warning? Heeded.
But I wish to be certain; they have went
To find these dark weapons, and they have failed?The Visionary nods.
Conjurer;
This schemer; would they want to see the act?
Do they wish to see my life end themselves?The Visionary shakes her head. The Conjurer snorts in disapproval and contempt.
Conjurer;
You know the schemer, so please, tell them this;
The plot is an amateur’s game. and that
I shall prevail. A tiny stock of dark
Blood and a weapon is not enough; if
They mean to kill me, I expect a fight.The Visionary exits, Stage Right.
5 Likes
Valis wasn’t nearly that poetic in reality but excellent, mysterious write-up fitting for a play…
hehe 
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What’s next for the Starfallen?
Next week, the Starfallen will be heading to Pandaria for a couple of events hosted by Morgan (who is still doing fine, by the way).
At the end of the month, on the 30th, we’ll be at the Assembly of Dusk as usual with whisperings of interesting news coming to that particular session.
News that will eventually lead to a fun collaboration with some of our close friends the following week. If you haven’t checked out the Corpsegrin Irregulars and the Cursekeeper Association - you should!
6 Likes
The Starfallen have spent the last week in Pandaria, where corruption has seeped through the ground to give way to nightmares of the locals.
As Void scholars, they ventured out to investigate the source of this – spending time spelunking in Mogu tombs, and even so far as to reawaken ancient Mogu spirits, hellbent on destroying them and warping their flesh beyond recognition.
They found themselves within an ancient Mogu archive, and eventually found a Titan console in which they could speak with a spirit spending its life watching the stars – where the reports of the ‘Stareater’ were known even as far back as Mogu times.
Their work must continue.
Though, not without tying loose ends up. Vasaar Duskfield made his appearance and announced that to weather the upcoming storm, they must fix some ‘internal strife’ – pride, to be exact.
And thus, they did. Though perhaps not in the way that they wished:
Vasaar had plans; to release the Sha contained in one of their flock’s weapon, to use it to combat the pride that was trapped within several of them. But there was need for a catalyst; the very dragon who is seeped in pride and arrogance.
Pride and anger over took him, twisting his form and turning him against previous allies; all from metaphorical daggers twisted into his back. A terrible battle ensued, with many injured who remained to fight, and others aiding one in recovering from the starting of the onslaught.
It is not something they will soon forget; how pride and anger overtook one to make him turn against his allies – how such emotions caused him to scar one for all eternity.
For now, some remain in Kun-Lai to recover. For others, they go their separate ways.
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There is a small moment in Shattrath that Isilaith stood, looking towards that many starred sky, and wondering what truly had happened to bring such a conclusion to this story.
Had he truly overestimated the mageling’s personality, that his paranoia and arrogance took fore and forced him to work behind closed doors to try and solve the issue? That, if he had done this alone, would it have ended the same way?
Perhaps such conclusion had saved the Starfallen, but now the dragon felt trapped and sworn to a guild he never wanted a part of — to play the role of mediator amongst the kin that would likely kill him should he return to them. A kin he left to protect from the shadows when the stars began to dance behind his scales.
Talons flexed as the dragon took his true form in Terrokar; a moment of solace. He lied, of course; he always does, but that small tinge of hope lingered in his heart, that if the Silver Hand could cleanse her, perhaps there was hope for him…
In the early hours of the morning, Isilaithion leaves the Outlands. He had other stories to conclude, and thus, makes his way to Quel’Thalas.
After a rather eventful Assembly of Dusk, where battles of wits are put against one another, The Starfallen take a small respite once more; some, however, are soon to be initiated further into The Starfallen’s ranks.
Others will put aside petty differences and work towards their end goal.
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They had scorned him! They had held his view in contempt! Woe - they were misguided. Woe! They were misled! The isle’s orphan daughter would understand, she who carried the burdens with such dignity - such piety! She would know he had been faithful and he had been rewarded!
His prayers had been answered - he heard the song! He would be a voice in Their symphony!
Terrokar Forest was filled with a dreadful, tearless caterwauling from morning until noon.
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The Starfallen have recently visited Hallowfall again, at the behest of an Arathi asking for aid in acquiring a crystal that is believed to be a piece of Beledar – a shard the size of an average Gnome that mimics Beledar’s shifting. The Arathi had requested that the Starfallen bring it back to them to be rewarded.
And so, the Starfallen got to work. They tracked down the shard down to a hole in Hallowfall where it had fallen under the water, and had sent one to gather the item for their use. Only to be caught by a masked Cultist who told them they could not use the full potential of the item without their help.
So, the Starfallen worked together with the Masked Cultist and their orders, eventually allowing the Cultist to cut the Shard into three pieces to be used for their own use. That is, until the Starfallen realised they could use this artefact for their own use, and thus, betrayed the Cultist after they had unlocked the potential of the shard, and killed them in Azj-Kahet in a quadruple cross.
The Arathi are told that they couldn’t find the shard, meanwhile the shard will be used for the Starfallen’s end goal.
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Very soon, The Starfallen will be joining the Cursekeeper Association and the Corpsegrin Irregulars once more for another adventure – this time, taking them to the ruins of Eastweld. What do they find in this land to aid their cause, and what has led them to join their allies once more? Only time will tell.
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