[Undead RP] The Hand of Agony : On the waves of retaliation

The Orders have been given the undead gather once again! To serve the might of the Horde and drive the elves from Kalimdor once and for all!
03/07/2018 23:14Posted by Jorríck
The Orders have been given the undead gather once again! To serve the might of the Horde and drive the elves from Kalimdor once and for all!


Tonight we march! Blight bombs at the ready … Poor, poor Ashenvale about to feel the weight of our dead and bony feet.
04/07/2018 15:24Posted by Myribelle
03/07/2018 23:14Posted by Jorríck
The Orders have been given the undead gather once again! To serve the might of the Horde and drive the elves from Kalimdor once and for all!


Tonight we march! Blight bombs at the ready … Poor, poor Ashenvale about to feel the weight of our dead and bony feet.
We are finished with peace, we are finished with negotiations. The time of war is -now- the time of the Horde is -NOW-. We will feed the Horde war machine. We will fuel it with the life of the Alliance dogs who stand between us and the Warchief's goal. We shall have our war and we shall have our bloodbath!

FOR THE HORDE! FOR THE FORSAKEN! FOR! THE! WARCHIEF!
He bowed down to the floors, to pick up a silvery coin. It landed in the dirtpatch, amongst many feets walking the camp between Crossroads and the Far Watch Post. Whoever was its previous owner, has just lost a chance for a meal it seems.

He gripped the coin, and flicked it over, the symbol of the Horde reflecting light off its dusty surface.

Iztok blinked his eyes, correcting the reading glasses on his nose. The symbol of the Horde were never the soldiers or haste or rage. It was its various people. Two Kingdoms. One former Empire. A trade mogul and its bureaucratic empire. A city state. Four tribal aranged races.
Blood Elves of Silvermoon, The Forsaken of Loarderon, Pandaren, Goblins, Shal'dorei. And than Orcs, Taurens, Trolls and Ogres.

It used to feel once like a loose coalition, made just to survive, an uneasy pact with the Horde to survive. Now. Years later. It is a coalition pact of races whos army may achieve even world domination, would the warchief strive to do it. We all prooved to each other. However...

He gripped the coin and stored it into his coinpurse, moving with post haste on feet, between the tall taurens, now some with deer horns, orcs, trolls, until he came to the place where rest of the undeads wearing the tabard of the Hand of Agony dwelled.

He walked around the center of the Crossroads, inspecting their attires, and if they stored their gear, packed and at the ready for move. Orders were already here, but the movment for the united move was given.

It is true, an avalanche of people is looking terrifying. But nobody expects a dam to burst, when you fill it with too many people. He shaked head, annoyed over decision that the movement will be done in cohesion. He'd prefer unsuspecting filling of the troops above this... Obvious action.
It was a new day. The Orcs beneath him rustled about the food ration. Such was the day in Mor'shan ramparts. He studied the intricately designed armor of one of the fellow undeads, pondering how much must it had costed her when she got it.

A horn sounded in the distance. He rose his eyes up to the end of the curved valley, watching the encroaching army with interest. Horde banners. Blood Howl Banners.

He turned about and walked downstairs, nodding at some members of the Queen's Grasp before he had seen the Blood Howls leader, Bwim'toru, at the start of the column, leading his troops.

''It appears, the time for moving has finally come.'' He said to himself, awaiting approaching allies.

((OOC: The Hand of Agony is from this day onwards moving into the lands of Ashenvale, to participate in the war effort of the Drums of War Campaign))

((Looking forward to meeting allies and killing. Alliance.))
Snippet from Drum's of War campaign, which we are thoroughly enjoying!

She sank back against a wooden post at Silverwind Refuge, her bony and protruding spine causing what would have been a fluid movement to be jerked and awkward, until her bum reached the mud. Yet mentally she sank further than just the muddy and root covered floor of the cage. Mentally she fell. Her legs were drawn up before her for a self-comforting pose probably familiar to most.

There wasn’t a moment’s rest in this hellhole of a forest. Even now during the deepest and darkest of night’s explosions could be heard, reports streaming in about bridges being collapsed, and the high whining sound nobody could place … along with the cries of those wounded nearby. Those that couldn’t be helped but longed for a death that wouldn’t come easily and certainly not quietly.


Still in Ashenvale for now! Recuperation in Orendil's Retreat before we push north.
I am all the reinforcements this unit needs!
It's true. He's bench pressing a tauren right now.

Thunder bluff isn't even mad, it's amazing.
The Hand's been doing very well for itself locking down more and more territory in the forests of Ashenvale. Marching closer and closer to inevitable victory.
Keep the great work up! Someone will have to buy a faction change...
Excerpt of rewarding diligent guildmembers whom work alongside us and make their events through sugestions via Executors Command Board:

The bloated mage left the Undercity... The darkend carriage, tugged by two skeletal horses gradually made its way through Silverpine, to the Hillsbrad Foothils, into the Tarren Mill.
Dreadmage Iztok Miles Bartholomew looked over the gray city with his new left eye, suprised that town changed not at all, while the Hand was Away.
Ofcourse, since the Expeditionary's own Auxiliaries were recalled from some of the places to help the local guards. It was well done work, the buerocratically experianced undeads helped tend to the towns need while the experianced war veterans that served many wars helped the local guards sustain order, peace and quiet. A death knight wearing Hands tabard was just bragging to two deathguard friends, holding an eksquisity looking orange dwarven beard, that still smoldered by cinders. Perhaps a Dark Iron strayed too far north, whom knows.

But that, was unimportant. He left the war front not because of only his sustained injuries, but also becouse of recovery of an artifact of era bygone, an elven crafted sword, imbued by shady powers and vielded by a foul demonical Satyr. An undead underling took her arm to pick the sword, and now, he was in the hurry: is it cursed. Will it affect her dearly...
Iztok grasped the dark cloths on the cart, lifting up the wraped sword and took it to his dedicated Study. He began by gently pushing the lid of the library closet, and thus revealing a small space, in which a lever was settled. He gave it a gentle nudge, and the wardrobe moved, displaying an elaborately replicated Telemancy platform.

He stepped onto it, and was beamed away. Telemancy proved useful now, that he began to understand its ways of travel. He hoped he will soon make more connections than to seven points he already did, but until than, those three were most crucial to him: Library Repository, Study, Overlook.

He placed sword onto the table of a gently enlightend place, and clapped his hands twice. Two Arcane familiars appeared, wearing each a purple coif atop its head. They began the work on the studies of the blade.

Three days later, the place had many tomes levitating or laying around, Iztok contemplating the safety of the blade...
He learnt of it, that it was imbued by shadows. He knew from fight against the Satyr that it could wrap the demon and all soldiers of his into shadows.
But when he tried anything, nothing really happen. All he heard, was soft whispers, so tiny and barely recognizable. The taint of shadow magic was there. If he decided to listen. Turning the deaf ear, the blade appeared silent...
The sword hummed when held in hand by hilt, raised in the standard combat ready positions, as if awaiting the action...

He flipped casually a page in book, finally discovering, a familiar sight: a drawing of the sword that was in front of him. It was once in distant past recorded by the highborn elven society, named Eye of Godesses Shadow, before it was lost prior to the war. It was already imbued there in past, to give user additional chance of survival through illusory magic.

This meant that the shadow imbuement of the blade was the post process of the demon, abusing blades power to own ends. At this point, Dreadmage sighed, recognising that he might require aid he was offered by one of his fellow Spellblades. Someone more versed in Shadows, and same time, someone who is an elf. Perhaps there will be more secrets to uncover.

At least, the studies prooved that blade was harmless to the undead users, and its powers were only equal to vielders capabilities and long term attachments to the blade, only gradually beein able to master those terrible powers the Satyr could do on the battlefield. That came as a brief relief.


As you could read: We encourage making of own events, so that our people can obtain some gear. However, any magical objects must first go through an important inspection: both OOC and IC.

On OOC matters, we officers look into the current state of the how weapon looks, than engage into debate of what would be our wishes of this blade - it is than settled on OOC levels with the new user - one who obtained the weapon or a tome through event. We strive for balancing, lore friendly work, giving the negative traits as well as positive traits that can affect characters.

Than the roleplay begins, giving chances to anyone else of the guild whom wishes to study the blade to have a shot at it, however only learning the traits that were established previously on OOC levels.

As such: congratulations, Sena, on your new Sword. Only Simetra must first study the blade with me present, before you recieve it.

#magiccorrupts #magicispowerfull #magicisaddictive #magicsummonsbeeinsofotherworld
#ifyoufailmytrustyoulooseblade #adminabusehelp ;)
Back in Tarren Mill this week and preparation is underway to face the expected retaliation for Teldrassil burning …

Tonight's episode: Plague and how to handle it without losing your limbs or unlife!
15/07/2018 15:27Posted by Iztok
Excerpt of rewarding diligent guildmembers whom work alongside us and make their events through sugestions via Executors Command Board:

The bloated mage left the Undercity... The darkend carriage, tugged by two skeletal horses gradually made its way through Silverpine, to the Hillsbrad Foothils, into the Tarren Mill.
Dreadmage Iztok Miles Bartholomew looked over the gray city with his new left eye, suprised that town changed not at all, while the Hand was Away.
Ofcourse, since the Expeditionary's own Auxiliaries were recalled from some of the places to help the local guards. It was well done work, the buerocratically experianced undeads helped tend to the towns need while the experianced war veterans that served many wars helped the local guards sustain order, peace and quiet. A death knight wearing Hands tabard was just bragging to two deathguard friends, holding an eksquisity looking orange dwarven beard, that still smoldered by cinders. Perhaps a Dark Iron strayed too far north, whom knows.

But that, was unimportant. He left the war front not because of only his sustained injuries, but also becouse of recovery of an artifact of era bygone, an elven crafted sword, imbued by shady powers and vielded by a foul demonical Satyr. An undead underling took her arm to pick the sword, and now, he was in the hurry: is it cursed. Will it affect her dearly...
Iztok grasped the dark cloths on the cart, lifting up the wraped sword and took it to his dedicated Study. He began by gently pushing the lid of the library closet, and thus revealing a small space, in which a lever was settled. He gave it a gentle nudge, and the wardrobe moved, displaying an elaborately replicated Telemancy platform.

He stepped onto it, and was beamed away. Telemancy proved useful now, that he began to understand its ways of travel. He hoped he will soon make more connections than to seven points he already did, but until than, those three were most crucial to him: Library Repository, Study, Overlook.

He placed sword onto the table of a gently enlightend place, and clapped his hands twice. Two Arcane familiars appeared, wearing each a purple coif atop its head. They began the work on the studies of the blade.

Three days later, the place had many tomes levitating or laying around, Iztok contemplating the safety of the blade...
He learnt of it, that it was imbued by shadows. He knew from fight against the Satyr that it could wrap the demon and all soldiers of his into shadows.
But when he tried anything, nothing really happen. All he heard, was soft whispers, so tiny and barely recognizable. The taint of shadow magic was there. If he decided to listen. Turning the deaf ear, the blade appeared silent...
The sword hummed when held in hand by hilt, raised in the standard combat ready positions, as if awaiting the action...

He flipped casually a page in book, finally discovering, a familiar sight: a drawing of the sword that was in front of him. It was once in distant past recorded by the highborn elven society, named Eye of Godesses Shadow, before it was lost prior to the war. It was already imbued there in past, to give user additional chance of survival through illusory magic.

This meant that the shadow imbuement of the blade was the post process of the demon, abusing blades power to own ends. At this point, Dreadmage sighed, recognising that he might require aid he was offered by one of his fellow Spellblades. Someone more versed in Shadows, and same time, someone who is an elf. Perhaps there will be more secrets to uncover.

At least, the studies prooved that blade was harmless to the undead users, and its powers were only equal to vielders capabilities and long term attachments to the blade, only gradually beein able to master those terrible powers the Satyr could do on the battlefield. That came as a brief relief.


As you could read: We encourage making of own events, so that our people can obtain some gear. However, any magical objects must first go through an important inspection: both OOC and IC.

On OOC matters, we officers look into the current state of the how weapon looks, than engage into debate of what would be our wishes of this blade - it is than settled on OOC levels with the new user - one who obtained the weapon or a tome through event. We strive for balancing, lore friendly work, giving the negative traits as well as positive traits that can affect characters.

Than the roleplay begins, giving chances to anyone else of the guild whom wishes to study the blade to have a shot at it, however only learning the traits that were established previously on OOC levels.

As such: congratulations, Sena, on your new Sword. Only Simetra must first study the blade with me present, before you recieve it.

#magiccorrupts #magicispowerfull #magicisaddictive #magicsummonsbeeinsofotherworld
#ifyoufailmytrustyoulooseblade #adminabusehelp ;)
Oh, my...isn't Sena going to have some fun.
Just want to give these guys and gals a massive shout out for the impromptu RP-PVP we just had. It turned a completely DM'ed event into something truly unexpected!
The Hand of Agony was happy to have a bit of fun! I was there but I went off to farm before the night got late. But I did hear it was tons of fun,
Big thanks to The Blazing Gryphons too! Was awesome to get a surprise mini RP PvP moment in our little corner of the world and after the happenings in Ashenvale. Hope to bash heads in again! You guys were cool.
“How'd ... that happen... w-why is she burning?”

“What just happened?” The cluster of voices around her, all asking the same question, was disorientating. Myribelle thought she recognised one as Balagore, the newest apothecary to The Hands ranks, though there were several begging for comfort or seeking answers. It was all varieties of reactions, from sadness to elation; the latter being something she personally could never understand. Those were people’s homes, lives, the children, the animals, the history and text-books; all of it consumed by fire.

“Now to burn Stormwind!” Another cheered from the clifftop overlooking the stretch of sea and the burning Teldrassil. It was definitely an orc from the grunt and gruff tone.

“I don’t know …” Myribelle found her voice, quietly replying in a rasp, freely admitting fault, unaware of what she might say or could say. She didn’t know the words anymore. The beat of the drums of war in her mind faltered. She’d never been behind the fight entirely in the first place but this … this was not what she had wanted.


Snippet from latest story!
18/07/2018 17:50Posted by Víctoriâ
Do not make me cry again dammit!


Offers tissues? Am sorry! Such angst and drama and challenging viewpoints on actions taken … There is more to come though! Lordaeron next :sob:
Tonight is preparation for the expected (and likely) incoming Alliance forces as they bring retaliation to our shores! #HillsbradHedgehogWithUnnecessarySpikes! Tarren Mill RP with your local lovely deado's …

Tomorrow night, surgery for a meatshield who has issues with her innards and then a dash of RP PvP (hopefully) with our newest friends Blazing Gryphons!

Next week, wheeeeeeee! Part 2 Drums of War! Onwards to BfA, my friends! Barwooowewoooo!
After various tests by Dreadmage Iztok and Simetra Shadowshot. Sena Marlight finally received her own artifact weapon. But that doesn't mean she get free reign of the weapon. A constant close eye is being kept on the Forsaken who is showing a very obsessive attitude towards the sword.

Marlight becoming use to the humming of the sword when it is ear her can become a little uneasy when she is parted from the sword for a long period of time.

Thank-you Iztok and Simetra for overlooking the weapon.

When Sena arrives towards her designated armory quarter after a long pent up day, beaten from whatever things you did with her, she spots that her quarter is not same. In fact there is a familiarly sized wraped package sitting in the corner, with a note wrapped to it with a simple string. Sealed and adressed to Sena Marlight

Opening the letter Sena finds the following:


To: Sena Marlight, Deathguard of the Queens Grasp.
Subject: Inspection of an artifact of dubious source.

Lady Marlight.
It is with my great relieve that i can give you back the sword you had obtained during the Campaign in Ashenvale.
The long studies had shown it has minimum corruption value to the user, one which the undeads can easily supress. But by my recomendations, if beaten down multitude of times by shadow, try to steer away from the blade.(edited)
This is a quick summary of the blades capabilities:
Recorded by Thiruel Moongrove, 167of the Goddesses Fourth Eclipse in the tome of Elven Blades.
Name: Shalla'dris ~translates to The Eye of Godesses Shadows.
New suggested name by Authority of Spellweavers: Eye of Shadows.
An elven craftsmanship blade, never recordedly broken. Two times re-powered runes of magic. Second time imbued by the shadows of the Satyr user, thus the corruptive nature and atunment it had to previous owner.
Capabilities:
We had uncovered that the blade deflects those unworthy of usage through means of shadow burn, wraped around its hilt. It however seems most shadow users are immune to that.
The blade covers the one vielding it with a mixture of Arcane magic from school of Illusion and Shadow Word: Trickery. The effect is that it makes the vielder appear phasing out of the world, perhaps ment as the a mean to confuse enemies of the vielder. There is a magical atunment to this made through third rune, which binds the blade to the loyalities of the vielder.

Attached to the letter is an in depth research conducted by Lady Shadowshot, Specialist Spellweaver and myself.

I hope the Blade does not betray my trust into your usage~

Signed,

Dreadmage Iztok Miles Bartholomew, Archmage of the Crimson School, Chief Curator of the Repository, Leader of the Spellweavers of the Queens Grasp.

As Sena reads that out and unwraps the sword, it appears same, there is only one thing however at its guards:
A wax seal, bearing a copper mint coin with a strange symbol attached to it. Reading off it, you see it has a small attachment hole, furtherly bound to sword(


Atop the mint coin bound with wax to the sword says: Passed the Tests by Dreadmage of the Hand of Agony