2 Likes
The Gang Finds Out About the Old Gods, this Tauren slapped them up. The end⊠Unless?
5 Likes
mysterious gnome burns down night elven settlements
PeaceâŠsometimes in quiet moments in the forest Ilistria could almost forget the events that had brought her back from her self imposed exile and caused her to rejoin her people once more.
This was one such moment, the purple haired night elf sat on a fallen tree, overlooking the still waters around a small lake. Birds sung above her in the forest canopy, small animals scurried around in the undergrowth seeking food or shelter ,The gentle whisper of the wind moved the branches above her, causing the dappled sunlight to dance upon the forest floor, and sparkle like tiny stars upon the calm water that stretched out before her.
But the feeling of peace was just an illusion, Ilistria drew the whetstone once more along one of her blades, honing its edge until it was once again razor sharp. Her blades had tasted much Horde blood since her return, and they would taste much more before she was done.
She had begun to feel a bond with the Dirge since she returned to Ashenvale to serve with them.It had been a long time since she had last felt that way, years had passed where she avoided contact with her kinfolk as much as possible, even denying within herself that she was even still one of them. An exile she had self imposed on herself after events that led to her feeling betrayed and abandoned by her own sisters, and her own people.
When the tree had burned everything had changed. Ilistria had felt a rush of emotions, from sorrow and shock to disbelief and despairâŠbut the strongest had been anger, raw and untamed anger that had pushed through above all else.The Horde had come to the heart of the Kaldorei realm, had defiled around them but they had then crossed the final line. Following the orders of their banshee queen they had burned Teldrassil, and in that single moment they had murdered countless thousands of her people, not warriors upon a battlefield, but unarmed innocents and priestesses, their hopes and dreams and lives burned away in an instant.
After that she could not deny who she was, she could not sit ideally by and do nothing, It was her duty to return and bring justice to those that had died and to fight for and defend those left behind and that was what she had done.
The Alliance had failed, the young boy king had refused Tyrandeâs request for aid to retake the Kaldorei lands and see justice done, and now he had signed up for peace with the Horde.
Stormwind was all he cared for, as long as that was safe it mattered not to him of what had befallen the Kaldorei, he was clearly not his father before him, he had instead trusted in the butcher Saurfang, sided with him over his allies, even given him honour in death by helping to carry his body back into Orgrimmar.
Ilistria had been present on the battlefield outside the city, had watched events unfold with disbelief at what the boy had done, at that moment she knew he would bring no justice to the Kaldorei, at that point she knew she would not follow him, and have no further part in his Alliance of broken promises and hollow words.
The Dirge were not the Sentinels, they were a mix of individuals that had come together with a single common purpose and need. To have vengeance against the Horde, For all the Horde were responsible, they had made Sylavanaâs warchief and given her the power to order the burning of the tree. Justice must be taken for those murdered and the only way to bring peace to the ancient lands of the Kaldorei was by removing the Horde threat once and for all. It was clear now the boy king would not do it, so it would fall to others to see it done and the Dirge would be part of that.
Ilistria stood looking across the lake a moment longer, then turned and walked back towards Astranaar, It would be time soon for the Dirge to move out again, towards Tanaris to assist a call for aid received from their allies of the Assemblage of Uld. The night elf did not look forward to the newest deployment, the heat, the sand, the lack of cover, but she would follow where the Dirge went and protect her new found family.
6 Likes
The Dirge is currently set out on a mission to aid their comrades, Assemblage of Uld, in retrieving some mystical artifact. However, a persistent âThirteenthâ is making their quest rather complicated.
Some of our elves are growing wary, as they would rather see their time used elsewhere - like in Ashenvale, for example, where Vashava has scried out a band of orcs currently patrollingâŠ
How will this end? In a bloody conclusion, and soon - if it was all up for the Dirge to decide.
6 Likes
The skies of Tanaris were covered in sand and dust, as shadows of hippogryphs, gyrocopters and planes flied towards the unsuspecting ThirteenthâŠ
And so they fought, one night after another, blades clashing as both sides struggled in their survival and achieving respective goals. Even though the grunts lost their water supply, they werenât so easily taken out by the vengefulâŠ
In the end, the Horde were dealt a crippling blow, surviving only thanks to an abandoned ogre compound. Theyâd rise next day, assisted by the Highblood Myrmidons, marching to the Valley of the Watchers. Even reinforcements from the Saurfang Legion could not break ingenuity of the Assemblage of Uld and determination of the Dirge of Teldrassil. The Legion withdrew and the next day both the gnomes, the dwarves, the kaldorei and the worgen have already left, leaving a subtle track somewhere northeastâŠ
Had a lovely series of RPPVP clashes with our PCU brethren at < Hand of Conquest > , < Assemblage of Uld >, <Highblood Myrmidons >. Thank you all, bros! 
The Dirge is currently residing in Stormwind, looking for fresh meat and causing trouble, same as alwaysâŠ
14 Likes
a minor setback.
6 Likes
What do you mean âcripplingâ blow? IâM STILL STANDING!
3 Likes
Crutches dont count.
They could not break through our IMPENETRABLE frontline.
4 Likes
Oh, yeah, forgot to say thanks for the fun roleplay!
3 Likes
Vashava stood silently in the Shrine of Aessina, her black eyes flitting back and forth, checking for threats that would break the quiet grief permeating the area. Turanil Fangstorm was dead, his body not ten feet from her. His theroâshan mourned even now, weeping over him long after he had passed. Vashava made no move to stop her. All in the Dirge knew him, many had been brought into it by him, herself included. They all mourned, in their own ways, in their own time.
Her mind turned to the fight in Silverpine, the fight that had claimed Fangstormâs life. Humans and Kaldorei, fighting side by side. Two days of solid fighting in the mud before the Greymane wall, against the undead and their accursed allies. It had been a slow, brutal slog in the mire and across a bridge, little ground being gained either way, and losses on both sides. While the first day had been bearable, the second was not. Her forces, only recently put under her command, and been caught in constant fighting, instead of the hit-and-run tactics they preferred.
Then Fangstorm had arrived. Heâd been elsewhere during the initial fight, and then arrived to challenge the Baron. The battle had been brutal, from what she had seen, but in the confusion of the fight, she saw little. The Baron had been wounded, she thought that much was true, but Fangstorm had been mauled. His wounds were brutal, infested with a dark, corrupting magic that Vashava still remained shocked by.
They had left on the third day. Two of the human military orders had left before them, for varying reasons. There were not the numbers remaining to properly fight the force assembled against them, and Vashava was in no mood to lose more of those under her command. She had opened a portal to Astranaar, and the Dirge had moved Fangstorm through mere moments after what remained of the initial force had moved off.
The Dirge had managed to stabilise Fangstorm, and move him to the Shrine. He had passed not long after, Eluneâs blessing giving him peace and clarity in his last moments. Vashava looked up at the moon, giving silent thanks to the Goddess again for that gift. The weight of leadership, of the past, was lifted from him now, and he was at peace in Eluneâs light. That weight had passed to her, and her new co-commander.
Vashava thought it odd, that she, a Highborne, was now a leader in the Dirge. Yet that was where they now were. Elune, fate, or misfortune, had led them to this point. Yet those under her command had followed her, without question or complaint. She hadnât even stopped to consider it until now, but there is was. Perhaps it wasnât as odd as she thought, after all, they had all fought and bled together many times over now. Such things inspire a deeper loyalty and trust than mere providence of birth.
The other Darkcrest, Priestess Duskmoon, was sat nearby, joining her in the vigil over those who mourned. Together, they now had the responsibility to lead. To follow in the footsteps of Fangstorm would not be easy, but she had been born to it. Her people had been raised to lead, to make the hard decisions. This loss was another the Horde had inflicted on them, that would be repaid ten times over, if not more.
Vashavaâs hands closed into fists, and anger flowed through her. She turned to thoughts of revenge, to the great injustices done to her people that had not been answered. Fury welled up inside her, boiling and raging to explode out. She closed her eyes, and exhaled. Ice crystals formed on her robes, glittering like stars in the moonlight as she let the burning rage go, and she opened her cold, black eyes again.
She would not rage or rant. She would wait, and watch, and when the foe was ignorant of the doom that lurked in the shadows, she would strike. Her eyes went back to watching over the Shrine, sweeping back and forth. They would mourn, for now. But in time, the Dirge would hunt down the Baron and his ilk, and watch them burn.
13 Likes
The Sister kept vigil over the fallen druid and his grieving student.
She had come to lend her aid in their shared quest for vengeance; yet the war had claimed another of her kin. With leadership thrust upon her she knew she would need Eluneâs guidance now more than ever, else she felt that the shared command with the Highborne would be doomed.
Her first act as Darkcrest would be to tend to the farewells of the last, it would be a poetic beginning if not for the terrible circumstances surrounding the event.
She would do everything in her power to give the Dirge vengeance, for their home, for their people and now for their fallen compatriot.
8 Likes
Turanil Fangstorm resided peacefully in the earths of Ashenvale, his home and surrounded by his people who have gathered to say one last goodbyeâŠ
And so they spoke and spoke, many a passionate speech given before the Priestess called upon the spirits. Another mournful dirge to a dead kaldorei, all too many now to count.
And so they bid farewell and walked, and they walked forwards, now more determined than ever. âThe Horde will pay for the Shanâdoâs demiseâ, they thought to themselves.
12 Likes
Over the last three days, the Dirge of Teldrassil have been dealing with dangerous cultistsâŠ
Vashava sat at her bureau, reading reports as the sun rose. Everlook was waking up, the smells of baking bread and fresh wood added to log fires drifted on the cold winds that blew through her open window, but she remained focused on the reports. In the last three days, the Dirge of Teldrassil had dealt with a dangerous warlock and her underlings, and the cost had been high. Multiple injuries, and more questions than answers. Theyâd first run into the cultists while dealing with a corrupted moonwell, although this action was seemingly not one the warlock had planned for. She had been most displeased with exposure, and taken the life of her over-eager minion without pause.
Vashava moved some papers about, quill poised, and scribbled a note on one of the documents. This report covered the incidents over the last three days. Theyâd first dealt with more cultists in an encampment, dealing with Satyr. Theyâd gone in with a small group, lured the targets out and killed them quickly and quietly. Theyâd then moved onto Felwood, following reports of more cultist activity. Vashava circled the word âSatyrâ, then continued reading.
The cultists had been numerous in Felwood, and after multiple engagements, had led them to a underground den, hidden by illusion magics. Theyâd recovered a key from one of the cultists, a fel-crystal, that was used to open the way into the den. Careful scouting had allowed them to observe this in action, and the level of secrecy along with the numbers of the cultists had required immediate action.
Yesterday, theyâd stormed the Den, moving quickly and ruthlessly through the tunnels and killing the cultists and their leaders, a fel-addled apprentice and a dangerous swordsman. Of greater concern were the corrupted druids, although the Satyr may have been involved with this. Vashava circled âcorrupted druidsâ and linked it to the circled âSatyrâ, and added a question mark. This was something she ought to look into.
Once past the corrupted druids, theyâd finally encountered the warlock, the leader of these cultists. After a brutal fight, during which the warlock had unleashed dangerous fel-magics and wounded several of the Dirge, she had been defeated. But even in her dying moments, she had power enough to overload her summoning portals, unleashing a powerful explosion of fel-fire that raged through the tunnel-complex, and brought it crashing down. The Dirge had only just made it out before the entrance collapsed.
She looked at other papers on her desk, and sighed. No rest for them this week, it seemed. Reports of Horde activity in the northern realms of the Eastern Kingdoms had made their way to her, and the debt the Dirge owed was still outstanding. Theyâd have to move soon, if they intended to keep up with their foe. Vashava initialed the scoutâs report, then put her quill down, closed up and locked her bureau, and shut the open window with a wave of her hand. Sheâd move to Ashenvale now, and gather the Dirge to depart that very evening. There was no time to waste, when it came to hunting Horde.
The Dirge is currently in Astranaar, and will be moving to Arathi soon. Weâre always on the lookout for more Kaldorei and Worgen to join our ranks, so if youâre interested in finding out more, /w Vashava, Llyiene or Falathim, or find us IC!
8 Likes
The Dirge of Teldrassil stayed at the grand bridge of Thandol Span for the night and finally headed out to scout the northern human lands of Arathi⊠It didnât take them long to find resistance.
The Thirteenth of the Saurfang Legion would plead for peace, as they claimed that the Rotgarde and the Grim Gest were the true enemies⊠However, none of the Hordeâs slaves can be spared.
As they fought, the night grew darker and darker. At long last, a spell was conjured as the Dirge would find themselves covered by the duskâs shroud and retreat, having done enough damage.
After the Dirge had taken shelter at Refuge Pointe, an outpost of the League of Arathor, the rumors say a one-eyed man was sighted late into the night on a horse, scouting the lands of the infamous Arathi BasinâŠ
14 Likes
âBreaking news. Local Night Elven renegade group attack Thirteenthâs fishing trip. Thirteenth successfully drive off aggressors they they flee into the night.â
10 Likes
Our fish! , as always it was a lot of fun battling the Thirteenth , even if they did stink of fish or death or both.
4 Likes
I donât see your name on it! >:c
The Horde forces were bad enough, now there were Pandaren and Zandalri bolstering their numbers. Whatever hope of a decisive victory faded fast as their numbers swelled beyond the Dirgeâs own.
Fight after fight, retreat after retreat; loss after loss. Llyiene was not fond of the humans, but knew that they may have no other choice; the meeting was tense, one group of humans had already walked out due to the in-fighting amongst the Boy Kingâs people.
At least the Gnomes and Dwarves were stalwart allies, the Assemblage of Uld had rallied to the aid of the Dirge numerous times, and she was thankful for it. Without their aid her warriors would surely have perished at the hands of the monstrous Horde in Arathi or the Hinterlands.
They were fortunate tonight, the savage trolls were called to reinforce their allies in the north, perhaps someone had beat the Dirge and its allies to the prize and attacked the Bansheeâs lot themselves; they would find out soon enough, as soon as they traversed the land to this âDeathâs Breachâ.
The Dirge rests briefly at Chillwind camp after several days of battling the Horde. Soon they will set off to continue their quest for vengeance against the Baron and his twisted army.
9 Likes