Ilistria cursed in pain as she unstrapped her leather armour, carefully removing it to inspect the injuries below. The battle on the beach around Bilgewater Harbour had not gone entirely to plan and the Dirge had been forced to retreat after a vicious battle with Horde forces. Ilistria had held position as long as she could watching as others retreated but she had had been determined no one was getting left behind or captured by the Horde so had been one of the last off the beach.
She winced as she looked down at her left side where the whip of lightning created by a goblin shaman had struck her, The pain at the time had driven her onward with battle rage, but now the rage had cleared from her it was agony, feeling like her skin and muscle was burning from within.
The elf took some glass vials from a pouch, applying the contents of each to the evil looking red welts and bruising across her skin, she wanted to scream in pain as they reacted with the wound. But screaming was not an option, she had moved a short distance from the camp the Dirge and the Assemblage had retreated to, but she did not want them fussing over her, proding and poking at her, she did not want them to see the wound, She had to appear strong, she was not going to show any sign of weakness in front of the gnomes, to them the Kaldorei had to appear invulnerable.
She bandaged her side and padded it up as best she could before strapping her armour back on, wincing again as the toughened leather pressed to the damaged skin below.
She glanced around to check she had not left anything behind, then satisfied she turned and made her way back towards the camp, pulling her hood down over her face once more to hide any signs of emotions or weakness that would show to any around her.
As repercussions for the bombing of Bilgewater Harbour take form, weâll be having events with the Hand of Conquest this coming week to represent the growing insurgence of the Dirge.
Any Night elf and Worgen RPers should seek us out to get involved with our war from the shadowsâŚ
The Dirge of Teldrassil has set up an elaborate trap for the Horde and after a dayâs worth of fighting and making the butchers bleed they seek respite in Raynewood Retreat, setting up for the night and also having made new acquaintances along the wayâŚ
As the so-called Thirteenth Legion ambushed the Dirge in Raynewood Retreat, their petty assault soon turned to be disastrous as the Keeper went on a rampage of fury and one of the tauren Anâshe followers soon found himself disgraced with a mark of shame on the forehead and his tail violently removedâŚ
Vengeance for Teldrassil.
Your flesh and blood will soon feed the fungus. We will meet again.
You guys are great. Keep up the RP!
Somewhere in StormwindâŚ
Ilistriaâs fingers traced across her newest scar, the wound had healed up well, but healing only went so far, even when it was enhanced by magic. The lightning whip that had hit her when fighting the goblin shaman at Bilgewater had left a jagged line around her side and up her back, little branches coming out the main scar like tiny streams from a river. The skin was still tender to her touch as she traced the line with her finger.
It joined one of the many scars upon her body, Ilistria has been fighting since a young age, she could barely remember a time when she had not been fighting something or someone, following one cause or another, fulfilling an oath. Six thousand years and more of fighting and no sign that it would ever end for her, there was always a new cause that her blades were pledged to serve.
She had sworn another oath last night, pledged herself to fight for the Dirge, to avenge her kinfolk that were murdered when the tree was burned by the Horde. The ash from the blessed and burned leaves was still upon her face, over her crimson facial marks. The oath had been taken under the gaze of Elune, the words said in a sacred place, it bound her to the cause and once an oath was made it could not be unmade, it had to be honoured by any means necessary.
The last time she had sworn an oath under Elunes gaze has been long ago, when she had been young, when she had become a sentinel, when she had taken her first facial markings, that oath had been broken, not by her but by them, when she had been captured by the sinâdorei, when she had been abandoned by her sisters, left for dead. Although a part of her had died, after the long years in captivity, after the torture, after she had finally been broken by her captors, turned into a monster, twisting her mind until she had worked for them, killed for them, done what they told her to, until she enjoyed it.
But she had broken free of them, been saved by someone, brought back from her madness by them, but the monster her captors had created was still inside her, it wanted to kill, it enjoyed the hunt, it enjoyed the moment that a life was taken. That rage, that power she had learned to control, even harness, and now she had a new oath, a new purpose, a purpose that her inner monster would be perfect for.
The enemy she fought against would feel its rage, would suffer and die at its hand, and those who had died at the tree would be avenged, for that was her oath.
epic allies, cannot wait to see them on sunday at the tinkers faire!
I have to ask!! What the heck is [PCU] In the tag?
This guild is part of a community named PCU, standing for Perroy Cinematic Universe.
Weâve returned to the enchanted forests of Kalimdor after a great Tinkerâs faire.
All is not well though, with the growing infamy of the Dirge, horde forces muster to bring us to heelâŚ
OOC: Weâre back in Ashenvale and a lot planned, more RP-PVP and events, good time to get in touch if youâre a Worgen/Night elf interested!
Ohh thanks Kump!
After killing many orcs, i still approve of this thread.
How would one go about joining these fair men and women, fighting only for justice? D:
Contact anyone online and an officer will be in touch, IC the process is somewhat simple⌠But we leave that to ingame discussion. Weâre a secret group of terr- I mean fighters for justice.
And we are also very creative with the recruitment process. A lot of fun that I can only recommend 
.
Excellent people to shout foul curses at before you actually curse them!
That was a good play on your part, I must agree!
I wonât interrupt your spells next time. I misunderstood our rules.
Ilistria had returned to camp after the ambush on the Sinâdorei, It had not gone as well as it could have, the Sinâdorei had a number of rangers along with a warlock in the group and despite trying , it had proved impossible to get close to them and shut them down, which had resulted in the Dirge having to retreat a number of times, regroup and then hit them again.
The element of surprise was the Dirges biggest advantage in battle, move in, strike hard, then retreat back into the forest before the target could organise or reinforce themselves, The tactic had been used by the Kaldorei with great success for thousands of years, Ilistria had used it herself when she was part of the Sentinels, but the Dirge were not the Sentinels, not all of them were even Kaldorei. The Sentinels were the best at what they did as they fought together as if they were one, each sister knowing what each other around them would do, each sister knowing that her fellow sister beside her would be there protecting her back, anticipating her next move before she even made it, they trained for years, trained together until they thought as one and fought as one
But the Dirge were not at that level yet, they had formed recently, gathered from those that wanted justice for the events of the tree. Each thought as an individual still, each member fought their own fight, had their own motifs and reasons for being there. They fought well, they had anger and passion driving them forward against the enemy. But if only they could come together more, to function like the Sentinels, to fight and think as one, then they would be unstoppable, a force their enemies would truly learn to fear.
Ilistria replaced the bandage on her shoulder with a new dressing, an arrow from one of the rangers had caught her during the battle, her leather armour and gambeson had stopped it from penetrating to deeply, and although painful it would not hamper her ability to fight much, once in battle again her rage would mask the pain and drive her on, but still it was an injury and it would compromise her speed and movement a little.
She stood slowly, strapping her armour back on, then turned and moved off into the forest scouting back around the camp, her form almost becoming one with the trees around her, just another shadow in the night. She would be ready for the next battle whenever it came.
The Dirge strikes at the heart of Stonetalon, seeking to put an end to one Bilgewaterâs vendetta⌠That night, one of the Oil Rigs in Stonetalon exploded in a violent blast, leaving mere rubble behind as well as an echo becoming another tribute to the requiem⌠Vengeance for Teldrassil.