NationStates Jolt Archive

Nazgrel, Drek'thar, Vol'jin, and Thrall meet at the Cheiftain's firepit one evening for dinner. The Orcs and the Trolls had just reinforced the defenses on all the towers and burrows in Durotar. Peons were working selflessly in the maintenance of the integrity of the walls. However, the assaults by the Centaurs from the Barrens in the west, the Quillboars from the shores in the East, and the Thunder Lizards from the Jungles in the north were becoming almost too much for the new nation of Orgrimmar to survive. The Warcheif did not want to go openly asking for help, and though Cairne Bloodhoof had been overly nice, the Horde had owed so much to the Tauren for their help and survival, a debt that Cairne would never allow Thrall to repay for their own help.

"So...wha'cha b' doin', mon? 'bout d' raidin'z 'n all. 'Dem beasties b' mighty hatin' 'v ya'z 'ere," Vol'jin, the Troll Witch Doctor, and leader of the DarkSpear tribe. The trolls had settled in the tropical Echo Isles off the coast. Ever since Zul'jin, the Trolls and the Orcs shared a brotherly bond of kinsmanship that could never be broken.

Thrall placed the Doomhammer down. The adult Warcheif stroked his chin. "How has the hunting party gone? Any news from Kajind and Kagami?"

Nazgrel, a middle-aged Orc shook his head. "They have left to the east to deal with the Centaur tribes. No messengers of yet Warchief. But the Quillboars have been making braver advanced. We have even lost a Scout tower today in a raid. Gazlowe reports that the Goblin miners have unearthed some Kobold lair by accident, and many have died due to invading Kobolds into the mines. The Goblins are not fighters Thrall. . ."

Thrall was indeed having a problem. He was not ready to raise an army. Durotar just did not possess the upkeep to maintain one for the moment. Yet, the experienced shaman Drek'thar had the answer.

"Allow the world to come to Durotar... Invite them here. Show them your Kindness, young Thrall, son of Durotan. Allow them to stalk our enemies, and guise it as a hunting expedition, open to all. They shall be impressed by the ability of Orcs once again, and you shall make decent contacts and see what this world has to offer."

Thrall was shocked at the old orcs suggestion. "That's a brilliant idea Drek'thar. Nazgrel, get Arishcage to round up some nightriders and set them high on the Wyverns. Vol'jin, see if Jo Jo Headshrinker can get some midnight riders on your bats. Send them to envoys to any perspective nexuses we can allow to broadcast this message throughout the world:

"The International Barrens Hunting Invitational has begun."

[Think You're a master in the art of the hunt? Think you've faced your dangers? Think again! In the land of Kalimdor, every beast can indeed kill you. The natural armor on the Quillboars, the ravaging claws of the Kobolds, and the electrokinetic blasts from the Thunder Lizards are all awaiting to be tested by the best of hunters and adventurers within the Nation of Orgrimmar!]

Kroduk grinned. A challenge! This might be fun...
[To: the Nation of Orgrimmar]
I like the sound of your challenge! Are there any rules to this hunt?
-Kroduk, Lord of this colony of the 5th Alliance.
[end transmission]

Things had nearly wound down at the CentGov buildings when a console set to hilight all "in general" communications from other nations blarked at the two men quietly disposing of a bottle of Bushmill's finest.
The older, a tall, wiry man with greying red hair reached out a lengthy arm and pulled the monitor round to face himself and the other man, a tall and muscular, darkhaired man of about 25 or so, with a face like granite.
The younger man spoke.."Orcs?"
Andrew nodded and tugged at a grey-streaked red beard. "They're apparently not hostile to other forms of life, interesting, I thought the little green bastards lived for attacking humans."
The darkhaired man swung his feet of his desk and leant toward his console, tapping up his dossier on The Frost Wolf Clan and it's domiciles.
"Ahh.."
Andrew looked round "Ahh?"
"They're not the orcs we know. This breed are apparently bigger and have something resembling a civilization, outside of war."
"They're definitely not the Orcs we know. We should send someone along to this Owen, but who? We can't send Vlad, he'd start lopping off heads. Alois is unlikely to be interested, and Durotai is still finding his feet as Earl."
Owen muttered "Didn't take me very long when I became Earl."
Andrew grinned "That, my friend, is because you never actually spent any time in Warwick except on leave. Durotai is your antithesis."
Owen made a rude gesture at the older man and sat up straight. "Nope. I've made a decision, you and I will go. You need a holiday old man, and I haven't killed anything since Uncle imported those Klatchian crocs months ago. No, we're going."
Andrew shrugged "Well Sissy was after me to spend sometime with you outside of the office anyway. You're the King."
Owen grinned.
"You're damn right I am. Let's go pick ourselves out an arsenal."

<To the Warchief of the The Frost Wolf Clan>
<From His Majesty's Government>
"Salutations and Greetings Warchief. I, and my commander of my armed forces, will be travelling to your nation to indulge in the hunt. We're not sure of exactly what facilities you've got for landing aircraft, or what restrictions you may place on equipment, so we'll be arriving on dragonback and carrying only melee weapons. I look forward to hunting with you gentlemen, or gentleorcs, however you would render it..."
Owen I, King of Britmattia.

Kroduk grinned. A challenge! This might be fun...
[To: the Nation of Orgrimmar]
I like the sound of your challenge! Are there any rules to this hunt?
-Kroduk, Lord of this colony of the 5th Alliance.
[end transmission]

All news had to be brought by envoys riding on Wyverns and Bats from the nexus back to Orgrimmar to be delivered personally to WarChief Thrall.

Thrall put down a patch of parchment, writing down and talking at the same time. "There are no rules for the hunt. Weapons, Armor, and guides can be supplied to any who want them. Bring as many people as you want"

<To the Warchief of the The Frost Wolf Clan>
<From His Majesty's Government>
"Salutations and Greetings Warchief. I, and my commander of my armed forces, will be travelling to your nation to indulge in the hunt. We're not sure of exactly what facilities you've got for landing aircraft, or what restrictions you may place on equipment, so we'll be arriving on dragonback and carrying only melee weapons. I look forward to hunting with you gentlemen, or gentleorcs, however you would render it..."
Owen I, King of Britmattia.

"What does he mean by aircraft?"

"Maybe he has one of those gnomish gyrocoptors, or zepplins," commented the envoy.

"I'm sure our lumberjacks can clear a patch of forest and harvest it to make a clearing in the Barrens for any gnomish or goblin craft to land. It shouldn't be a problem," Thrall said.

"In your name, Warchief."

All news had to be brought by envoys riding on Wyverns and Bats from the nexus back to Orgrimmar to be delivered personally to WarChief Thrall.

Thrall put down a patch of parchment, writing down and talking at the same time. "There are no rules for the hunt. Weapons, Armor, and guides can be supplied to any who want them. Bring as many people as you want"
A hawk swooped through the window; a scroll was clutched in its talons and a tiny figure rode on its back. The bird dropped its message and flew away.
In that case, I will be bringing five shadowdancer archers, eight norzu warriors (OOC: a variety of troll), six verda (OOC: a type of goblin), and about a dozen brownies. We have our own weapons and armor, but guides would probably be useful. I look forward to beginning the hunt. How should we arrive?
-Kroduk, Lord of this colony of the 5th Alliance.
OOC: Do you have a convenient coastline? It's easiest for the 5th alliance to travel long distances by sea, though they other methods.

Owen lent back in a complicated synthleather saddle and rubbed a gauntleted fist on the small of his back. It had been years since he'd flown even a portion of this distance on dragonback, mainly due to most of his travelling being in warzones, dragons being a big target.
He pulled a bottle from the jumble of straps by his feet, popped the top off, rinsed out his mouth and spat into the empty air by his boot.
Ffffilttthyyy habitah. Why I put up withhh you I donn'taah know. His blue dragon, Ai'Khan mocked through mindspeech.
Owen grunted and replied "Because I feed you, you ungrateful blue sod. Have you spotted anywhere that looks like a landing field? My back is killing me, and from the swearing coming over the coms, Andrew and Ch'Reg aren't happy campers either." He looked round at the older man and his green dragon, flapping along behind them.
Ai'Khan gesticulated with a talon at a misty forest below and slid into a shallow dive, bursting through the mist, zooming along at treetop height before skidding to a stop in a freshly milled clearing. He strode round in circles, shaking the kinks of the journey out of his massive reptilian frame.
Owen unbuckled himself, his armour and the bastard sword that was the traditional weapon of the highest Britmattian nobility.
Ch'Reg slammed down a dozen metres away and mimiced Ai'Khan's actions as Owen clad himself in his armour, enamelled blue with the Blue Dragon of House Warwick embossed on the chest. The servo motors whined as he flexed and ran through some simple kata.
Andrew also removed and donned armour, his a mix of red, blue and black with a golden dragon on the chest. He whirled a jagged-looking battleaxe and looked to his king.
Owen grinned at him, then heard a bleek from his undonned helmet, which sat at Ai'Khan's now settled feet, and looked round, spotting several massive green forms adorned in fur and rough armour heading out of the thick forest.
Ahh, the locals.. He waved Andrew over to his side and stood at an easy parade rest, watching the huge orcs cross the still stump-choked field.

OOC They're wearing WarHammer 40K style power armour for reference, but remodeled helmets.

http://maddox.xmission.com/beatass4.gif

http://66.0.193.113/isroot/www11650/ProductImages/mrl1557.jpg
OOC: Oh no! Not the Fist of Doom! Anything but that! Especially if it's relevent to the thread...

In that case, I will be bringing five shadowdancer archers, eight norzu warriors (OOC: a variety of troll), six verda (OOC: a type of goblin), and about a dozen brownies. We have our own weapons and armor, but guides would probably be useful. I look forward to beginning the hunt. How should we arrive?
-Kroduk, Lord of this colony of the 5th Alliance.

"Tell them they can arrive at any time. Try not to be desperate sounding though," Thrall told the envoy. "We can receive any type of transportation availiable within means."

"Aye Warcheif."

OOC: Do you have a convenient coastline? It's easiest for the 5th alliance to travel long distances by sea, though they other methods.

OOC: Durotar is on the eastern coast of Kalimdor's Barrens. There's a small outpost with an observatory on the edge of the coast that allows them to see out into the Ocean.

As the hunters from Brittmania arrive, they see the island chain, and they could notice a few hundred large bats, the size of a treant, flying along the island chains. Every now and then a Troll would indeed be riding on top of one. Large smoke pillars exhumed seom several troll villages on the Echo Islands, but they seemed rather peaceful and content to be left alone, safe, on their own works.

However, a few dragons could be noticed by the Observatory Outpost along the beach. The orc team quickly rallied one of the Raiders to rush to the city to inform the WarChief. Grogdush ScaleAxe was sent on the back of a giant wolf, riding to Durotar.

It only took but a few minutes for the speedy Orc, rushing through the thick jungle foliage, dodging a few spears and quills, to reach the gates of Durotar. He hopped off the Wolf and rushed into the Fortess:

"WarChief! Dragons Approach!"

Thrall stood up, calming the fortress. "I'm sure they're not the childer of Sapphiron. Let us not panic. They're most likely the riders from the humans who contacted us. Get some Wind riders up to acknowledge them and lead them to the landing zone."

As Grogdush leapt on his wolf, and began to ride back to the Outpost, Drogrin Spearlasher and Gaurk Elfryer stormed into the Beastiary as Nazgrel was saddling some Wyverns and loading them with spearquivers. The two sat down, gaining the reins. Gaurk was the first to rise into the air, as a veteran officer, he had first choice in mount. He received his surname in a great battle against the Elven nation of Quel'thalas, riding one of the Kin of Alexstraza. Much of the ground in the area was still scorched black from his raids on the Elves when the Scourge razed it to less than mud.

"We ride!"
"Onward!"

Drogrin let Gaurk take the lead. He drew out a spear from the quiver, just in case. They couldn't be sure. If it indeed were some migrating dragons, or worse yet, Frost Dragons from Northrend, he could deliver the prong into their flesh to slow the beasts down as the two would make their escape to arm the towers. Thankfully, they found that the Dragons were domesticated mounts, much like the wyverns of the Horde.

"It's the hunters," Drogrin yelled at Gaurk. "Let's show them were to land." The Wyverns made sure to stay ahead and lead them to the patch of stumps and trees, and flew back toward Durotar to land in the Beastiary.

The peons, the working and construction caste of Orcs, were still busy with their hatchets on clearing the lumberfield when the Dragons landed. They'd give a polite "s'cuse me" in their Froggy Voice (think "Little Rascals") as they would carry 100 pounds of chopped up wood back to the War Mills.

The greeting party was forming soon enough, lead by Morg Wolfsong, a notable Shaman, dressed in white wolf fur and several trinkets, accompanied by half a dozen Wolf Riders, and four score of Grunts. The Shaman Wolfsong approached them.

"Welcome to Durotar, Capital of Orgimmar, within Kalimdar. The Orc Nation of the Horde welcomes you."

Dark clouds were gathering when Kroduk and his reached the western port. They walked up to the first ship that looked ready to sail. Kroduk called to the captain: "We're hiring this ship. I will pay you in gold." He tossed a small bag to the man, who bowed, grinning. "Thank you, sir! We can leave immediately."
As soon as the ship was out of port and onto the open sea, Kroduk went to the front and said "Get out of the way. I'm taking the wheel." The captain replied "Um, are you sure that's wise, sir? Urk-" Kroduk grabbed him by the throat with one hand, glaring into his eyes, and demanded "Have you ever steered a ship that was being propelled by a stormrider?" "Ghkhzz... no, sir." "I have, and that's what I'm going to be doing." He released the captain, who hurried off thinking I should have asked for more gold... Kroduk sat down, took the wheel, and closed his eyes, going into a form of meditation...
Meanwhile, near the back of the vessel, Tergol Valter (a verda) was also closing his eyes in concentration.... Suddenly, a great wind came howling out of the stormy sky; it carried the ship like a walnut shell, at tremendous speed. A few hours later they came into sight of the coastline.
The wind faded to a normal level, the dark clouds began to disperse, and Kroduk returned the wheel to the captain of the ship. "Head that way." he commanded, pointing in the direction of the Durotar outpost.

The Echo Isles would be the first to intercept any ships. Acting like rocks in a stream, they'd need to be sailed through, avoiding the tropical reefs, to reach the coast of Orgrimmar.

Sometimes it's safer to choose to land on the Isles. Most look rather nice, and it's obvious that many are inhabited due to the smoke pillars and village huts on many. The tall and lanky Trolls have made the Isles their new home. The DarkSpear Tribe is quite the voodoo-based society, with the master Witch Doctor, Vol'jin leading.

"'Days b'n a ship acommin'!" alerted Mali of the DarkSpear Tribe atop his mounted Bat. He motioned it down into the sandy yellow beaches of one of the many Islands, and hopped off. The bluish Troll brushed the sand off his tusks and rushed over to one of the five emergency pilliars on the island. If all of the pilliars should be lit up, it would mean an emergency evacuation of the islands is necessary and for all Trolls to retreat into Orgrimmar for safety. The Fire Pilliar system worked well for all the Trolls, land, sea, or air.

"Go t' 'dah Orc'sizzes! Tell 'dem 'dat 'd ships b' 'ere!"

The black smoke pilliar, thick and viscious, crawled up the sky like a worm of taut. Half a dozen Batriders jetted toward Durotar, and many headhunters picked up their Steel BattleSpears and went to accost this could-be threat. The Current Shadow Hunter was, of course, Jo Jo Headshrinker. Jo Jo was a natural apprentice of Vol'jin, and was quite the respected VooDoo Magician himself, able to use the powers to awesome new heights.

"'Dunna 'cause n' 'arm t' 'em 'et. 'Dey b' no 'urtin' 'z. 'Dey prolly b' 'd boyz 'dat b' wit' 'dem Orcs 'n T'rall."

Owen sketched a bow, servos humming almost inaudibly as he moved.
"I'm Owen Warwick, this" he waved with a metal covered fist "is Andrew Edinburgh, and these two" pointing at first the blue then the green dragon "are Ai'Khan and Ch'Reg." Ai'Khan nodded a massive, horn-studded head and Ch'Reg waved a taloned finger-claw.
"Right. Now that the formalities are over, I'd enquire where we could get a guide from, and which particular species you want getting rid of most? We're looking forward to this, there hasn't been anything challenging to hunt in Britmattia for decades, well before either of our times."
The orc wearing a white wolfskin nodded.
"Fair enough. I am Morg Wolfsong and if you'll grab your swords and follow us, we'll find you somewhere to fight for the horde." The Orc greeting party swung around the two men. Owen looked back at the dragons. "Go hunt for a bit, nothing sentient mind, we'll call you if we need you."
Reptilian heads bowed in assent, and forty feet of blue dragon, followed by slightly more of green, threw itself skyward.
Owen turned back to his orcish welcomers. "Alright, lets go."

Owen sketched a bow, servos humming almost inaudibly as he moved.
"I'm Owen Warwick, this" he waved with a metal covered fist "is Andrew Edinburgh, and these two" pointing at first the blue then the green dragon "are Ai'Khan and Ch'Reg." Ai'Khan nodded a massive, horn-studded head and Ch'Reg waved a taloned finger-claw.
"Right. Now that the formalities are over, I'd enquire where we could get a guide from, and which particular species you want getting rid of most? We're looking forward to this, there hasn't been anything challenging to hunt in Britmattia for decades, well before either of our times."
The orc wearing a white wolfskin nodded.
"Fair enough. I am Morg Wolfsong and if you'll grab your swords and follow us, we'll find you somewhere to fight for the horde." The Orc greeting party swung around the two men. Owen looked back at the dragons. "Go hunt for a bit, nothing sentient mind, we'll call you if we need you."
Reptilian heads bowed in assent, and forty feet of blue dragon, followed by slightly more of green, threw itself skyward.
Owen turned back to his orcish welcomers. "Alright, lets go."

OOC: If you don't mind, I'll be happy to control my own PCs. Sometimes they can act a bit unstable, especially Morg, who is consumed with stress of dealing with Warlocks around the area. He is a practicing Far Seer, as well as being a master Shaman. He wouldn't be too openly kind to strangers until they had gotten Thrall's own personal ok. Morg is suspicious by nature.

IC: Morg detested the dragonkin. It was their fault for the destruction of an entire clan of Orcs. Where were the dragons in the Battle of Mount Hyjal? Where were the beasts then? They didn't care. The lizards were a bunch of useless fecks only minding their own stomachs, and whatever they can steal from others.

"We have several beastiaries. We'd prefer your Dragons not roam this land. They'd either be killed by the Centaurs, or our own scouts, whom have been notified to scout for such beasts, and if their numbers are strong enough, destroy them on sight. I have seen our Wind Riders do marvelous things. It only took but a dozen or so to take down an adult dragon. We also would not want to risk a forest fire in the barrens. The winds are sharp, the Night Elves would not be totally joyful. They do not especially like that we have decided to build Orgrimmar so close to Ashenvale."

'Humans!? Thrall recruited Humans!? They will last a few days before coming into the infirmary, impaled with a dozen quills through their fleshy stomachs' was the collective thoughts on these figures from the adventuring party. Several of the grunts, shields on their backs, and axes hunt at their hips, gave agreeing nods to their pessimistic faces.

The Reinforced Walls of Durotar stood 30 feet up, and sharp defensive spikes protruded from them. High Scout Towers with advanced Ranged Combat Systems (at least to the Orcs), bordered both sides, Orc Grunts patrolled around all four entrances of the circular Fort City.

Arriving from the Northwest side, one of the grunts called up to the tower. "They're here!" The clansmen operating the tower then blew a mighty horn, shaped like a conch shell.

The grunts moved out of the way, and nodded to Morg.

"Lok~Tar, Chief Wolfsong."

The Regiment was brought into the Fortress, and they spread out and went tto their posts, with only Morg and the Britmattians left, walking through the Burrows and residences mounted high along the northern part, to the Fortress of Durotan, in the middle. Thrall, the Warchief of the Horde and of the Frost Wolf Clan, stepped down from the Fortress to meet them. The Orcish leader seemed most human than the rest of them, and even partly looked so. He wore thick black armor that was ancient in its antiquity, and seemed to be passed down, due to it seemingly to have seen many many battles. The battle-ready and yet still charismatically-idealistic Thrall was happy to meet them.

"Lok~Tar!"

http://www.imagestation.com/picture/sraid93/pcab7d48ef46043efcf2e064683076470/fa50c982.jpg

"Sir, it looks like there are reefs around those islands..." "There are." "Perhaps it would be best to land on one of them and ask for directions?" "Sure, that shouldn't take to long."
The small ship sailed in to the closest area of beach. Kroduk, the norzu, and the shadowdancers jumped into the shallow water and waded ashore, then stood waiting for the natives to arrive. Kroduk knew they had been seen, and was sure a "greeting party" would be here soon to find out their intentions.
OOC: Descriptions....
Shadowdancers most closely resemble 8 foot tall skeletons (though they do have skin) wearing black armor. In dim/no light, they are surrounded by a yellow glow. Norzu look kind of like large, very muscular humans. Their arms are especially big. They have tough, leathery skin, pointed teeth, rather course features, and a wider variety of eye colors than humans. Kroduk currently looks like one of them, but he can switch between several/many (depending on your definitions) forms. The verda are somewhat smaller than humans (average height around 5 feet), and tend to move in a crouch much of the time. They are pale skinned and sharp featured, with long limbs and fingers; their eyes are usually light in color. Brownies look like tiny, rather wild humans (usually between 5.5 and 6 inches). If you've seen Willow, they look similar to them...
(Pictures of the Willow brownies: http://www.lepconnie.com/willow/pictures/pics/picschron4.html

http://www.battle.net/war3/images/orc/units/animations/batrider.gifhttp://www.battle.net/war3/images/orc/units/animations/batrider.gifhttp://www.battle.net/war3/images/orc/units/animations/batrider.gif

Three Batriders located the footing on the Echo Isles and reported it.

Within but a few minutes, a hunting party of Trolls emerged. Jo Jo had rounded up a ragtag band of 4 Headhunters, 2 Beserkers, 4 Bat Riders, 2 Witch Doctors, and himself.

The natives emerged outwards, holding their sharp throwing spears and axes.

Jo Jo Headshrinker, the Shadow Hunter, was the first to speak.

http://www.battle.net/war3/images/orc/units/portraits/shadowhunter.gif "An' who'za b'n yooz' acommin' 'ere 'n o'r i'lan'z?"

OOC: Oh, and I forgot the Storm Cat. They brought one of those, too. The creatures can change size between housecat and maximum (determined by age; adult is big enough to carry a human on its back, but not a large troll). They can be found in varying shades of gray.
IC: Kroduk took one step forward. He carried three black steel javelins in his left hand; he was also armed with a sword, an ax, and several small throwing weapons. He replied "My name is Kroduk. I am a leader of the Fifth Alliance. I was hoping you could tell us the easiest way to get to Durotar; we came for the Hunting Invitational."
One of the norzu idly sharpened a large dagger.
http://66.0.193.113/isroot/www11650/ProductImages/mrl1507.JPG

Owen nodded and Andrew knelt to the huge War Chief.
Owen removed his helmet and and spoke "Hail Thrall. I greet you and thank you for this opportunity to hunt."
As he spoke Andrew rose to his feet and doffed his helmet. Even with the armour, the hulking orcs still loomed over the two men, and Andrew was wary of any situation like this.
Too many huge bodies were visible for the veteran warrior to be at anything approaching ease. Owen however, was a picture of nonchalance.
Owen spoke again "We understand that there is some concern over our dragons? I assure you that they're quite sentient and unlikely to trouble you or your people. If you want we'll send them home for the duration of our stay, we'll be less effective hunters without them, but it's your country."
Owen looked up at the War Chief, an image of barbaric splendour, and spoke again "We await your decision."

"My name is Kroduk. I am a leader of the Fifth Alliance. I was hoping you could tell us the easiest way to get to Durotar; we came for the Hunting Invitational."


"Aye," Jo Jo answered, nodding. "Yu'za b'n d' 'unta'z f'um d' ud'er worl' ri'tza mon?"

"'dey 'dun b' lookin' lik'z 'deyz f'um d' ud'er sid' o' d' worl' t' me mon. 'Deys b' jus' lookin' like 'da hoomuns," one of the Headhunters observed.

"Aye, mon. W'at b'n 'dos skinny hoomuns y' gotz wit' ya'z? Y' got'za 'noo'z 'dat 'z Da'kspea'z 'dun'na take mooch lik'nz f'um nun' de'd t'ings mon. If'n 'dey gon' co'upt d' spir'it worl', 'den we'z gon' haf' t' kill 'em," quoted a Witch Doctor. "D' Orcs, 'dey 'dun like 'em 'n'mo' 'dan we da'."

Jo Jo hushed the other trolls down, and took off his Marisk'kal, the large wooden Voodoo mask which signified his rank and class as a Shadow Hunnter, and folded his arms, "Bu' if'n y' b'n d' pe'ple'z 'dat b'n 'elp'n d' Orcs 'n d' mainlan', 'den I go'z n' cho'ce 'b t' 'elp y' d'ere."

The Shadow Hunter turned around, "Oy mon, fet'sh sum' rafts. We'z b'n go'n ta' O'grimah!"

The headhunters and Beserkers left, camoflaging in the tropical foliage.

"We understand that there is some concern over our dragons? I assure you that they're quite sentient and unlikely to trouble you or your people. If you want we'll send them home for the duration of our stay, we'll be less effective hunters without them, but it's your country. We await your decision."

The enigmatic Warcheif nodded, "Yes, the dragons native to the aspects in Kalimdor are naturally hostile if they feel that they're territory has been intruded upon. I assure you that if Morg has given you any advice, it's because he is just looking out for you. Consequently, I agree with his decision not to let them wander unsupervised. The Barrens are an uncharted land, it would be easy for them to get lost, and Orgrimmar is a small nation, so it could possibly be their return to the wild."

The Warchief spoke on, "A few of our veteran tamers who ruun the beastiary have experience with dragons and hatchlings. They were former members of the Horde's Dragonmaw Clan during the reign of Ner'zhul. They were expects in raising dragonkin into fighters for the Horde. I am sure that they could be well-taken care of, if it wouldn't cause you men inconvienance. Though we are small, our facilities are adequate to take on any task at hand."

A score of Wyverns streaked across the sky, dragging their shadows along the ground like dead weight as they went eastward on patrols to the Echo Islands. A long pilliar of black smoke could be seen on the horizon. A rider from the Observation Outpost would be along shortly with news from the Trolls.

Nazgrel, carrying a huge claymore that was as big as he was, came up to Thrall, and looked at the Britmattians, "Lok~Tar'Ogar Humans."

Thrall nodded to Morg, "You're dismissed back to the Hut, Shaman Wolfsong."

Morg bowed, "Zhug Zhug, Warchief."

"As for you two, this is Nazgrel, the senior warrior in the Horde. Nazgrel will be showing you the armory and some burrows for your stay. You should get to know him very well in time. Your lives may indeed depend on it."

The bearded Orc, wearing a Vikings Helmet with crooked horns, nodded. "Welcome to Durotar, I hope you brought your balls."

"Aye," Jo Jo answered, nodding. "Yu'za b'n d' 'unta'z f'um d' ud'er worl' ri'tza mon?"

"'dey 'dun b' lookin' lik'z 'deyz f'um d' ud'er sid' o' d' worl' t' me mon. 'Deys b' jus' lookin' like 'da hoomuns," one of the Headhunters observed.

"Aye, mon. W'at b'n 'dos skinny hoomuns y' gotz wit' ya'z? Y' got'za 'noo'z 'dat 'z Da'kspea'z 'dun'na take mooch lik'nz f'um nun' de'd t'ings mon. If'n 'dey gon' co'upt d' spir'it worl', 'den we'z gon' haf' t' kill 'em," quoted a Witch Doctor. "D' Orcs, 'dey 'dun like 'em 'n'mo' 'dan we da'."

Jo Jo hushed the other trolls down, and took off his Marisk'kal, the large wooden Voodoo mask which signified his rank and class as a Shadow Hunnter, and folded his arms, "Bu' if'n y' b'n d' pe'ple'z 'dat b'n 'elp'n d' Orcs 'n d' mainlan', 'den I go'z n' cho'ce 'b t' 'elp y' d'ere."

The Shadow Hunter turned around, "Oy mon, fet'sh sum' rafts. We'z b'n go'n ta' O'grimah!"

The headhunters and Beserkers left, camoflaging in the tropical foliage.
Kroduk looked at the others, puzzled. "Did anyone understand what they were saying?"
One of the verda replied "Ze leater azket iv ve vere ze hunterz vrum ze uter... zide uv ze vorld, I tink. Zen toze uterz zpoke about uz (I tink ze verda, zpezifikly) wit zkorn, zayink ve look like yumanz. Ze leater zed he had to 'elp uz, zinze ve kame to 'elp ze orkz. He tolt ze uterz to kum ket ravtz. I tink zey're koink to kum back. At leazt, I tink zat'z vhat zey zed."
"Ah, thank you, Zakriv. I suppose we wait, then."
The hunting party gathered on the beach, sharpening weapons, reparing armor, and dealing with the countless other constant tasks of a band of warriors. The storm cat curled up and went to sleep... of course. Cats... :roll:
OOC: Akzentz are vun! :D The norzu will have a different one....

Owen blinked. "Well they're attached so I assume I did. How about you Andrew?"
The redheaded man grinned, pointed beard twitching "I think I did Owen, I'll check in a minute or two."
Owen looked back at Nazgrel. "Well we seem to be equipped ok in that department. I think we'll follow you down to these..burrows, we've got enough arms and armour of our own." He put his helmet back on and spoke into the microphone "Ch'Reg and Ai'Khan, you hear me?"
Faint mindspeech came back, rendered in Ch'Reg's formal style <I hear thhhheee Owen King, Ai'Khan doth alsso, but hissss mouth isss full of kobold..>
Owen swore "I told you not to eat anything sentient damnit. Your dumbasses could've been killed."
A mental shrug permeated Owen's brain <Sssssorry my king. What isss thhhy will?>
Owen sighed. "I want you and that blue pig to finish your meal and head home. Tell them I'll call for a pickup when we're done here."
A mental nod was clear. <Vvvverhy well Owen King, it sshhhall be done. Come blue pig, we mussst leave.>
Owen grinned, when Ai'Khan caught up with him next he was probably in trouble, but the big male would have to put up with the "blue pig" tag for longer.
He looked to where Nazgrel waited "Alright big guy, let's go see your burrows."

Kroduk looked at the others, puzzled. "Did anyone understand what they were saying?"
One of the verda replied "Ze leater azket iv ve vere ze hunterz vrum ze uter... zide uv ze vorld, I tink. Zen toze uterz zpoke about uz (I tink ze verda, zpezifikly) wit zkorn, zayink ve look like yumanz. Ze leater zed he had to 'elp uz, zinze ve kame to 'elp ze orkz. He tolt ze uterz to kum ket ravtz. I tink zey're koink to kum back. At leazt, I tink zat'z vhat zey zed."
"Ah, thank you, Zakriv. I suppose we wait, then."
The hunting party gathered on the beach, sharpening weapons, reparing armor, and dealing with the countless other constant tasks of a band of warriors. The storm cat curled up and went to sleep... of course. Cats.

"T'ain b'n n' tim' t' b' nap'n, mon. Y' bes' t' b' wak'n y'ur kit'n oop," Jo Jo instructed. "Ma' name 'z Jo Jo 'eadshri'ka. Joo jus'ta b' fol'win' me an' I b' show'n y' where t' go."

The two Witchdoctors followed the Shadow Hunter as he led the party through the island. The Dense Tropical foliage of greens and yellows somehow seemed to shade the purple and blue trolls well in its shade. The tribal civilization could make into a very dangerous ambush attack for anyone who came to investigate with the wrong intentions.

One of the witch doctors turned, and asked, "Y' hoomuns b' look'n mi'ty we'd dres'd all sh'ny like. Where'sa joo b' f'um?"

Owen blinked. "Well they're attached so I assume I did. How about you Andrew?"
The redheaded man grinned, pointed beard twitching "I think I did Owen, I'll check in a minute or two."
Owen looked back at Nazgrel. "Well we seem to be equipped ok in that department. I think we'll follow you down to these..burrows, we've got enough arms and armour of our own." He looked to where Nazgrel waited "Alright big guy, let's go see your burrows."

The Burrows were little more than barricaded bunkers with strong thorium shells and spiked defensive structures protruding from them. Within them were arrays of sharpened spears, and cubby holes for throwing the said spears in case of attack. It seemed that these were quite suitable for the primitive Orcs to use as homes, especially in the distress of a lack of resources and constant violent attacks.

"This is where you'll be staying," Nazgrel informed. "It's not what humans call 'comfortable living.' It's better than dirt. If you'd like, however, we can be sure to place you in a rather cozy spot in the grunt barracks. Maybe sleeping with the troops could improve your morale." The Orc was indeed grinning at his idea.

-------------------

When the orientation to the home was done, Nazgrel asked to inspect Owen and Andrew's weaponry. Nazgrel was a tough Orc to deal with, but deep inside, he was an honest being. He didn't want these two men to die without a chance, but he wouldn't dare go soft on them or show them favor because they're helping. Nazgrel would treat them as any new Grunt in the Horde. He's idolize mud more than them at first, and as they proved themselves on the field, show greater respect.

"T'ain b'n n' tim' t' b' nap'n, mon. Y' bes' t' b' wak'n y'ur kit'n oop," Jo Jo instructed. "Ma' name 'z Jo Jo 'eadshri'ka. Joo jus'ta b' fol'win' me an' I b' show'n y' where t' go."

The two Witchdoctors followed the Shadow Hunter as he led the party through the island. The Dense Tropical foliage of greens and yellows somehow seemed to shade the purple and blue trolls well in its shade. The tribal civilization could make into a very dangerous ambush attack for anyone who came to investigate with the wrong intentions.

One of the witch doctors turned, and asked, "Y' hoomuns b' look'n mi'ty we'd dres'd all sh'ny like. Where'sa joo b' f'um?"
Ignoring the "hoomuns" comment, Kroduk replied "Right now we are living in a land across the ocean to the east, a place called Chandar. We Haven't been there very long, though. We came from a distant world, To'grandiel. I am the leader of a colony of the Fifth Alliance; we try to establish groups in worlds that To'grandiel discovers before the other alliances can. We have the hardest task of all, and need that edge...."
OOC: I'm not sure when I'll be able to post next; sorry about that. :( This is an interesting one... :D

Owen shrugged, power armour whirring quietly, "Sure." He reached over his back and drew a long, silvered bastard-sword with a worn, sharkskin handle. The blade had unquestionably seen a lot of use, but had also been well cared for. Owen gestured Nazgrel out of the way and tapped a small button on the pommel. A very faint hum began, almost inaudible, even to the Orc's sensitive ears. The edge of the blade blurred slightly, ever so faintly. Owen spoke "Go anything you think is really tough you won't mind losing?"
Nazgrel blinked slightly, reached out and removed one of the thorium roof struts, handing it to Owen wordlessly.
Owen shoved it into the dirt floor and stepped back, then tapped it in the middle with his sword. The strut parted neatly and the top half dropped with a clank.
Nazgrel's jaw dropped and Owen grinned. "Monofilament edge my green friend, standard issue to our combat blades." He thumbed the button and the blur disapeared. Handing it handle first to Nazgrel he motioned Andrew to hand his axe over as well.
Andrew grinned at the bemused looking Orc "Your thoughts?"

OOC Incidentally..
Owen's sword. (http://www.themedievalshop.com/full_desc.php?id=114&name=Bastard%20sword%20with%20steel%20scent-stopper%20pommel)

OOC: Yam..I swear I will stab my name into you in Morse Code if you don't stop taking control of other people's characters.

Ignoring the "hoomuns" comment, Kroduk replied "Right now we are living in a land across the ocean to the east, a place called Chandar. We Haven't been there very long, though. We came from a distant world, To'grandiel. I am the leader of a colony of the Fifth Alliance; we try to establish groups in worlds that To'grandiel discovers before the other alliances can. We have the hardest task of all, and need that edge...."
OOC: I'm not sure when I'll be able to post next; sorry about that. :( This is an interesting one... :D

"So'z...jooz b's f'um d' sta's, an' y' b' lan'din' 'ere t' mak' 't y' own? Soun'z lik' d' Bu'nin' Le'jun' wuz' do'n 'fo' we'z 'ad t' kil'em. Y' go'ls not b' b'n d' same 'z d'eres, eh mon?"

Jo Jo Headshrinker had become quite serious all of a sudden, and stopped walking upon asking his question. The Shadow Hunter stared Kroduk dead in the face, his eyes, like two glowing crystal balls of flame, streaked steam from the pupils.

A second smoke pilliar had been lighted, and another huge column steaked towards the atmosphere.

Owen shrugged, power armour whirring quietly, "Sure." He reached over his back and drew a long, silvered bastard-sword with a worn, sharkskin handle. The blade had unquestionably seen a lot of use, but had also been well cared for. Owen gestured Nazgrel out of the way and tapped a small button on the pommel. A very faint hum began, almost inaudible, even to the Orc's sensitive ears. The edge of the blade blurred slightly, ever so faintly. Owen spoke "Go anything you think is really tough you won't mind losing?"
Nazgrel blinked slightly, reached out and removed one of the thorium roof struts, handing it to Owen wordlessly.

Oooh no he didn't.

"Resources are low, we have nothing to waste. We're attempting to build a nation here humans. Everything must be used to its fullest potential. We shan't throw the earth away like you people."

"We've upgraded to Thorium Reinforced Defenses on the Burrows and the Towers, and our advanced defenses have been able to protect many of our erections from destruction. But we're at a mineral shortage, this is mostly due to the Kobold Mines. I'll take you to Gazlowe, he'll be able to tell you more."

Owen shoved it into the dirt floor and stepped back, then tapped it in the middle with his sword. The strut parted neatly and the top half dropped with a clank.
Nazgrel's jaw dropped and Owen grinned. "Monofilament edge my green friend, standard issue to our combat blades." He thumbed the button and the blur disapeared. Handing it handle first to Nazgrel he motioned Andrew to hand his axe over as well.
Andrew grinned at the bemused looking Orc "Your thoughts?"


Nullified.

OOC you do like to make this difficult don't you Raz? Rewind til he gets the sword and asks.
*orc dialogue*
Owen blinked, the orcs were poorer than he'd thought. Hmm, if things turn out well, we might just offer to start supplying them with materials, dunno what they'd give *us* though... He shrugged.
"Nevermind then. Just be careful not to hit the button on the handle, it'll make it ludicrously sharp."
Andrew also handed the big orc the lochaber axe he'd had over his shoulder and spoke quietly to him "There's nothing flash about the axe, just a simple tool. I suppose you might want to look at the armour too, make sure it's up to standard?"
Owen, who'd been talking quietly into his helmet mike, a bit miffed at the orc's bluntness, looked over "Yeah, er. There's that too. Um."
Andrew sighed. Boy is always the same, gets told off, whimpers, then gets conversationally trashed.

Nazgrel tossed the weapons down, "So you think you're set eh? Drop off any provisions you don't need here, when you're done, meet me in the Alchemist Laboratory to the Southeast. Gazlowe will be there. He's one of the few Goblins we have that remained loyal to the Orcs after Doomhammer's campaign went Awry due to the backstabbing Gul'dan. He'll have the first mission for you guys. And from your shrimpy builds, we'll see about some envoys."

The gruffy orc chuckled, and stepped outside the burrow, leaving the humans to their own for the first time in Orgrimmar. Outside, peons were busy building and repairing structures, running their farms and coming back from the mines. Several large wolves, mounted by raiders, trudged through the dirt on patrol. The blacksmith fires burned hot, and the sounds of hammers against steel and thorium echoed throughout the capitol.

OOC:

Invitations are still up for other nations who want to help.

Andrew eyed his King. "Well you handled that well."
Owen frowned at the dry tone. "I'm quite aware that it could've gone better. But bleh, we're here, and we've got hunting to do. Your armour charged?"
Andrew replaced his helmet, and flicked to the supply screen on the HUD.
"Yeah. Power and Synthetics at 100%, and internals are at full load. You?"
Owen donned his own helmet. "The same. Righto. Lets go see an orc about a dog, or whatever."
Putting their weapons away, both men moved out of the burrow, armour glinting in the sun, steel boots driving deep into the dirt streets. They ambled towards the Laboratory, noting points of interest in the town as they did, defences, fortified structures, all the aspects of Orcish life visible to two human visitors. Eventually the duo reached the laboratory and waited calmly outside.

A small party of Argonian hunters arrived at the mighty gates of the captiol, seeking good sport that provided better meat.

"Fellow Orcs in assistance? Of course! Send a full team of Orcish Knights," Trabian Riil ordered. "This should have gone through weeks ago. Get them the best of orcish splint and the sharpest of skells. We must show these Orcs that their leaders are still around!"

Hail, Mighty Gates of Orgrimmar, for it is the City that Bears the Name of the Greatest of WarChieftains, of the nation that Bears the Name of the Greatest of Chiefs. THe Gates remain closed for the Argonians

http://www.blizzard.com/wow/images/screens/cities/ss02.jpg

Several Grunts, arming their scout towers, shouted down upon the Argonians.

"Who be you friend of Foe?! What business have you here in Orgrimmar?!"

"Fellow Orcs in assistance? Of course! Send a full team of Orcish Knights," Trabian Riil ordered. "This should have gone through weeks ago. Get them the best of orcish splint and the sharpest of skells. We must show these Orcs that their leaders are still around!"

The report was giving directly to Thrall, with an extra note written on it:

"These Orcs are from the Arda region. If anything, they may be able to inform us of the whereabouts of Doomhammer's plans with Melkor and the Emporer of Kalessin."

Thrall was quite pleased.

"The High Orcs honor us by their invitation."

Andrew eyed his King. "Well you handled that well."
Owen frowned at the dry tone. "I'm quite aware that it could've gone better. But bleh, we're here, and we've got hunting to do. Your armour charged?"
Andrew replaced his helmet, and flicked to the supply screen on the HUD.
"Yeah. Power and Synthetics at 100%, and internals are at full load. You?"
Owen donned his own helmet. "The same. Righto. Lets go see an orc about a dog, or whatever."
Putting their weapons away, both men moved out of the burrow, armour glinting in the sun, steel boots driving deep into the dirt streets. They ambled towards the Laboratory, noting points of interest in the town as they did, defences, fortified structures, all the aspects of Orcish life visible to two human visitors. Eventually the duo reached the laboratory and waited calmly outside.

Outside the alchemist laboratory, stepped a 3 foot green elf-lookin' chap with thick goggles on his tin hat, wearing a leather shirt and shorts, and carring a large bushel back on his back filled with explosives and extra long fuses.

"'Ey there boyos. How'z it goin'?" The goblin asks. Gazlowe the Goblin tips his tin skullcap back and grins, snickering a bit.

<Internal Coms> OW-AE
"Popeyed little sod isn't he?"
<Internal Coms>AE-OW
"Agreed."
Owen eyed the goblin uneasily from behind his helmet. Thank Christ he hadn't brought any of the dwarven aristocracy on this trip. They clung onto antigoblin sentiment like limpets. Hmm..
"You'd be the alchemist who we were supposed to come find then? Big orc called Nazgrel said you'd have something for us to do. Said something about envoys as well. I have no idea what he meant by that." Owen finished speaking and leant against the wall of the laboratory, arms folded, face unreadable behind the mask-like helmet.
Andrew, who'd already been leaning against the wall chuckled, the sound made rasping by transmission through his helmet speaker.
"And hello by the way. Impressive amount of explosives you have there."

"You'd be the alchemist who we were supposed to come find then? Big orc called Nazgrel said you'd have something for us to do. Said something about envoys as well. I have no idea what he meant by that."


"yah..Nazzy's sure got a thick one up his beared butt, don't he? Anyway..he meant that some of the grunts'll be with ya to help you along. 'Course, my own boys'll be down there too...outta be a piece 'o cake. All you need to do is go down to the mines off the east south-east of here. Y'see we're diggin' for ore and metal, and we accidently broke into a Kobold tuunnel. So the beasts have been flooding out pretty badly. We're no much of fighters, goblins aren't..but we're fervent. Just secure the holes in the mines, and I'm sure we can handle the rest."

"And hello by the way. Impressive amount of explosives you have there."

Gazlow grins, "Why thanks...they're yours." He drops them off between the two. "I advise not getting hit where you put those. Who knows what'll make 'em go off."

Hail, Mighty Gates of Orgrimmar, for it is the City that Bears the Name of the Greatest of WarChieftains, of the nation that Bears the Name of the Greatest of Chiefs. THe Gates remain closed for the Argonians

http://www.blizzard.com/wow/images/screens/cities/ss02.jpg

Several Grunts, arming their scout towers, shouted down upon the Argonians.

"Who be you friend of Foe?! What business have you here in Orgrimmar?!"

"We are hunters, simple orc. Allow us to speak with one who has greater control of his tongue."

"So'z...jooz b's f'um d' sta's, an' y' b' lan'din' 'ere t' mak' 't y' own? Soun'z lik' d' Bu'nin' Le'jun' wuz' do'n 'fo' we'z 'ad t' kil'em. Y' go'ls not b' b'n d' same 'z d'eres, eh mon?"

Jo Jo Headshrinker had become quite serious all of a sudden, and stopped walking upon asking his question. The Shadow Hunter stared Kroduk dead in the face, his eyes, like two glowing crystal balls of flame, streaked steam from the pupils.

A second smoke pilliar had been lighted, and another huge column steaked towards the atmosphere.
OOC: I'm back!
IC: Kroduk replied "I know nothing about this 'Burning Legion' you speak of... perhaps the Third Alliance would be familiar with it, they are interested in fire... but I assure you we have no wish to rule or conquer. We made sure to find unclaimed and uninhabited territory to set up our colony in. We will fight if attacked, but we certainly have no intention of invading anyone. In fact, part of the reason we came here was to help any people that might be attacked by the others. Even the First Alliance will not hesitate to destroy a country they think will oppose their cause... and the Second delights in such destruction!" He finishes through clenched teeth, his hands tightening into fists. It is clear that thinking about the 2nd Alliance has angered him.

---Post deleted by NationStates Moderators---

A rustling sound is heard in the bushes, such as might be made by a lizard running through.

"We are hunters, simple orc. Allow us to speak with one who has greater control of his tongue."

"Simple!?!?" The Orc scout held tightly to the controls of the harpoon spear launcher from the tower. "I am not as simple as it would be to impale every one of you with this weapon!"

The other scout yelled down from the tower of the right, "Speak you friend of the Frost Wolf and Ally to Durotar, and we may draw the bridge!"

OOC: I'm back!
IC: Kroduk replied "I know nothing about this 'Burning Legion' you speak of... perhaps the Third Alliance would be familiar with it, they are interested in fire... but I assure you we have no wish to rule or conquer. We made sure to find unclaimed and uninhabited territory to set up our colony in. We will fight if attacked, but we certainly have no intention of invading anyone. In fact, part of the reason we came here was to help any people that might be attacked by the others. Even the First Alliance will not hesitate to destroy a country they think will oppose their cause... and the Second delights in such destruction!" He finishes through clenched teeth, his hands tightening into fists. It is clear that thinking about the 2nd Alliance has angered him.

Jo Jo crouched down and nodded, "Oh keez. 'Dat be'z gud 'nuf fo' me 'den."

After half an hour of trunching through the dense tropical foliage. Jo Jo Headshrinker lead them to what seemed like an ruined temple, abandoned by the Trolls as the jungle trenched into it. Fallen statues and bricks of marble arches covered the area. The Shadow Hunter Stopped.

"'Dis b' d' te'pol 'dat b' get'n ya'z t' d' ma'nlan'. 'D'ere b' 'sum de'd'z won'drun' 'round. I's hop'z ya'z c'n de'l wit' 'em."

A rustling sound is heard in the bushes, such as might be made by a lizard running through.

Such things are unnoticed out in the wilderness, as it happens on a constant basis.

Kroduk took an axe in his left hand and a javelin in his right; the others also produced weapons. The group advanced toward the ruined temple, glancing about warily....

As the group advanced, a young impetuous female human hunter, armed with a bow, arrows, and two dueling knives, walked out of the bushes and stopped, shocked by the presence of some many other people of different races.

"Um, hi everyone... What can I do for you?"

OOC:

http://www.lord-of-the-rings.org/%20fan_arts/archer.jpg

Character name: Tessa Reynolds
Age: 17
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Green
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 141 pounds

"We are hunters, simple orc. Allow us to speak with one who has greater control of his tongue."

"Simple!?!?" The Orc scout held tightly to the controls of the harpoon spear launcher from the tower. "I am not as simple as it would be to impale every one of you with this weapon!"

The other scout yelled down from the tower of the right, "Speak you friend of the Frost Wolf and Ally to Durotar, and we may draw the bridge!"

The lead hunter glares at the orc, falsely believing that he would be able to kill more than a single warrior with his weapon.

"Hold your tongue, grunt. Your kind are typically eaten in my homeland. I know not of any Frost Wolves of where this 'Durotar' is. My party and I have come to hunt, not to forge alliances."

Kroduk took an axe in his left hand and a javelin in his right; the others also produced weapons. The group advanced toward the ruined temple, glancing about warily....

As they stepped into the parch white stone, the wind seemed to stop blowing inside the temple. The Birds stopped chirping, and Jo Jo Headshrinker stopped at the doorway, picking up his glaive-like throwing star in his bluish hand.

"I's b' b'n ri't 'ere f'n ya'z nee'n me."

Deeper within the ruins, as the corridor turned toward the left (Note that is has no ceiling, so it doesn't get dark. The temple has been mostly shattered save for the walls by plantlife. Most of the flooring bricks have been unearthed by growing roots, and mounts of stone that used to be the ceiling are lying about), a deep voice echo'd through.

"Intruders! Blasphemers! You Shall Not Pass! Behold the Temple of the Revenant!"

A huge wooden double-set of doors to the right corner burst open. A dozen man-sized frogs leapt out, followed by a 20 foot tall spectre dressed in a deep red cloak with blue linings carrying a sceptre with an Orb of Ice, flowing around it seemed to be an ethereal stream of cold winds.

The Merfrogs immediately lunged in melee toward the group from the Alliance, the Ice Revenant raising his Scepter and blasting a magical stream of Ice directly at Kroduk.

As the group advanced, a young impetuous female human hunter, armed with a bow, arrows, and two dueling knives, walked out of the bushes and stopped, shocked by the presence of some many other people of different races.

"Um, hi everyone... What can I do for you?"

OOC:

http://www.lord-of-the-rings.org/%20fan_arts/archer.jpg

Character name: Tessa Reynolds
Age: 17
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Green
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 141 pounds

(Which Group?)

The lead hunter glares at the orc, falsely believing that he would be able to kill more than a single warrior with his weapon.

"Hold your tongue, grunt. Your kind are typically eaten in my homeland. I know not of any Frost Wolves of where this 'Durotar' is. My party and I have come to hunt, not to forge alliances."

"You test me human. If you wish to hunt the beasts in your own accord within the lands of Durotar, than do so, but unless you declare your willing alliance to aid the Orcish nation, then you shall receive no sanctuary within our City of Orgrimmar, nor will you receive our own military aid."

The other tower guard shouted forth, "We are the Frost Wolves of the Horde. We are the Clan that is the survivor of the Burning Legion. You stand in Durotar, for this is our nation. You should be more hospitable. There's nothing keeping us from opening our gates where thousands of Orcish Warriors dwell."

As they stepped into the parch white stone, the wind seemed to stop blowing inside the temple. The Birds stopped chirping, and Jo Jo Headshrinker stopped at the doorway, picking up his glaive-like throwing star in his bluish hand.

"I's b' b'n ri't 'ere f'n ya'z nee'n me."

Deeper within the ruins, as the corridor turned toward the left (Note that is has no ceiling, so it doesn't get dark. The temple has been mostly shattered save for the walls by plantlife. Most of the flooring bricks have been unearthed by growing roots, and mounts of stone that used to be the ceiling are lying about), a deep voice echo'd through.

"Intruders! Blasphemers! You Shall Not Pass! Behold the Temple of the Revenant!"

A huge wooden double-set of doors to the right corner burst open. A dozen man-sized frogs leapt out, followed by a 20 foot tall spectre dressed in a deep red cloak with blue linings carrying a sceptre with an Orb of Ice, flowing around it seemed to be an ethereal stream of cold winds.

The Merfrogs immediately lunged in melee toward the group from the Alliance, the Ice Revenant raising his Scepter and blasting a magical stream of Ice directly at Kroduk.
Kroduk threw his javelin at the Revenant, then snapped his fingers and glared. A wall of flame shot up; it stopped the ice, though it was being worn down quickly. He shimmered, transforming into an eight foot tall being covered in natural armor and large spikes. He held a bow suitable for a catapult; a massive black sword was sheathed at his side. "They seem to be much like the Fourth. We've all fought that sort before." he called to the others.
The Shadowdancers started pouring black arrows into the charging Merfrogs. 3 mages (2 brownies and a verda) send blasts of fire searing toward the enemies. Another verda fires a rocket at the Revenant, then draws his sword and sets fire to the wax that coats it's blade. Two verda and the remaining brownies start firing arrows and crossbow bolts; the remaining warriors advance, armed with assorted hand-to-hand weapons.

0523 Zulu
East of Central Kalimdor
Ocean, International Waters
Heavy Cruiser, IDS Gallant

The Drakonian heavy cruiser slid through the cold twilight waters. Moving slowly on a parallel course to the Kalimdor coastline. On board the ship, a helicopter made a silent assent into the air. It turned then sailed forward toward the coast, barely visible in the twilight of morning.

http://www.discounttrainsonline.com/graphics/TRP/L3612.jpg

Captain John "Snake" Avisius, sat silently making a final check of his rifle. He would command the team that would be soon on the ground in Kalimdor, a team made up of none other than the Praetorian Guard. Personal Guard of the Praetor of Drakonia, the best of the best, and said to be "Will of the Praetor". There were nine other Praetorian Guards...

"What are we doing with a civilian on this mission," one of the Guardsman whispered to another.

...and one civilian, inside the helicopter all ready to get to business.

"Okay, boys." Arnold Nanz caught the attention of the Praetorian Guard contingent. "We're going to be doing a bit of an unusual training operation in Kalimdor. We're going hunting."

"Hunting!?" No one really know what to make of it.

Arnold Nanz was a professional hunter and had been for ten years. He was the best in Drakonia and one of a dieing breed. Few people in Drakonia still hunted. This hunter however was one of the best, he had been all over the world, hunting in Lavenrunz, Fasta Benj, Midwest Balka, and even the forsaken deserts of Raem. He was the best.

"Don't underestimate what we're going up against," Arnold continued to breif the Praetorians. "What you will find here, is like nothing in the world."

The helicopter dipped and the tanned surface of the Mulgore was visible below them, the coast quickly disappear from beneath them.

Kroduk threw his javelin at the Revenant, then snapped his fingers and glared. A wall of flame shot up; it stopped the ice, though it was being worn down quickly. He shimmered, transforming into an eight foot tall being covered in natural armor and large spikes. He held a bow suitable for a catapult; a massive black sword was sheathed at his side. "They seem to be much like the Fourth. We've all fought that sort before." he called to the others.
The Shadowdancers started pouring black arrows into the charging Merfrogs. 3 mages (2 brownies and a verda) send blasts of fire searing toward the enemies. Another verda fires a rocket at the Revenant, then draws his sword and sets fire to the wax that coats it's blade. Two verda and the remaining brownies start firing arrows and crossbow bolts; the remaining warriors advance, armed with assorted hand-to-hand weapons.

THe Ice Revenant knocked the Javelin to the side with his Frostmace. It's left hand gripped a large tower shield from it's side, covered in red and blue markings. The Tower shield met the rocket with explosive measures, denting and blackening the metal. The ghastly being hovered as it moved, as it propelled by magical frostwinds. It raised the Mace high into the air, and clouds swarmed above it, throwing down large pieces of jagged hail into Kroduk's party.

The melee of the Naga merfrogs was met with ill form as half were struck with volleys of arrows and lit on fire, never meeting the melee. The other six, some of which had arrows stuck inside them, leapt into the bowman, their sharpened fins and spiked backsides. Slicing into the brownies and verda magi.

0523 Zulu
East of Central Kalimdor
Ocean, International Waters
Heavy Cruiser, IDS Gallant

The Drakonian heavy cruiser slid through the cold twilight waters. Moving slowly on a parallel course to the Kalimdor coastline. On board the ship, a helicopter made a silent assent into the air. It turned then sailed forward toward the coast, barely visible in the twilight of morning.

Captain John "Snake" Avisius, sat silently making a final check of his rifle. He would command the team that would be soon on the ground in Kalimdor, a team made up of none other than the Praetorian Guard. Personal Guard of the Praetor of Drakonia, the best of the best, and said to be "Will of the Praetor". There were nine other Praetorian Guards...

"What are we doing with a civilian on this mission," one of the Guardsman whispered to another.

...and one civilian, inside the helicopter all ready to get to business.

"Okay, boys." Arnold Nanz caught the attention of the Praetorian Guard contingent. "We're going to be doing a bit of an unusual training operation in Kalimdor. We're going hunting."

"Hunting!?" No one really know what to make of it.

Arnold Nanz was a professional hunter and had been for ten years. He was the best in Drakonia and one of a dieing breed. Few people in Drakonia still hunted. This hunter however was one of the best, he had been all over the world, hunting in Lavenrunz, Fasta Benj, Midwest Balka, and even the forsaken deserts of Raem. He was the best.

"Don't underestimate what we're going up against," Arnold continued to breif the Praetorians. "What you will find here, is like nothing in the world."

The helicopter dipped and the tanned surface of the Mulgore was visible below them, the coast quickly disappear from beneath them.

Two more bonfires were lit as the ships were seen from the Echo Isles. The Isles proposed a natural tropical reef barrier from the Kalimdor shores.l The Trolls of the DarkSpear tribe inhabited these island scars, and acted as a natural first response.

With Jo Jo Headshrinker and Mezil-Kree gone, the next in line was Zul'rajas. The Shadow Hunter Troll was the first to be informed about the large steel monster on the horizon. Zul'rajas was exceptionally tall, measuring nine and a half feet, with a long beard half that length, and carried a double-sided glaive. He put on a large wooden mask with eye-holes and tribal markings of the voodoo spirit world. The Shadow Hunter stood and exited his hut.

"We'z gotz fo' fir'z lit. 'Dis mi' n't b' b'n a trad'gy 'z we'dz t'inks. 'Dun'a b' go'n cr'zy wit' hyz'ter'a. Led'm b' fly'n bats ou'to'dair 'n b' kno'n who 'dey b' 'n w'at 'dey b' do'n."

Within minutes, the giant bats were flown into the air, trolls hopping on them. A dozen were sent over to the Drakonian cruiser. basketball sized bombs filled with Greek Fire were issued to each one in case the worst should happen and the ship prove to be hostile. The giant bats rushed out toward the sea, the troll Zedrijan lead the squadron as the Batiders headed towards the boat. The balls of Greek Fire loaded into slings in one hand, the reigns of the giant black bat in the other, they flew to meet the ship.

[These things are about as big as a man. I doubt they'd show on RADAR. They're silent enough to avoid SONAR, until they screech {which they do every now and then)]

THe Ice Revenant knocked the Javelin to the side with his Frostmace. It's left hand gripped a large tower shield from it's side, covered in red and blue markings. The Tower shield met the rocket with explosive measures, denting and blackening the metal. The ghastly being hovered as it moved, as it propelled by magical frostwinds. It raised the Mace high into the air, and clouds swarmed above it, throwing down large pieces of jagged hail into Kroduk's party.

The melee of the Naga merfrogs was met with ill form as half were struck with volleys of arrows and lit on fire, never meeting the melee. The other six, some of which had arrows stuck inside them, leapt into the bowman, their sharpened fins and spiked backsides. Slicing into the brownies and verda magi.
Kroduk sent ribbons of fire searing into the hail storm, quickly raising its temperature so that the ice could not form. He fired a black steel arrow (the size of a throwing spear, but much faster) at the Ice Revenant, then drew his sword and charged.
-----------
The brownies scattered, laughing. This was little more than a game to them, as they could move much faster than any human-size being. The verda were agile, but not even close to as quick as the brownies; this was a serious danger to them. They dove away, getting several serious slashes in the process, and come up with their strange single-edged short swords drawn. Three norzu turned and charged the Naga merfrogs; the Shadowdancers continued firing arrows at high speed. The other fighters followed Kroduk toward the Revenant.