Good afternoon.
I’m a returning player, and have been enjoying the game as I level some toons from 110 to 120. Yesterday I answered a character RP background post and it made me think of a few old old stories I wrote years ago, which I had completely forgotten about. I always enjoy writing about my character, and those I interact with in a guild, raid, PVP event, etc.
These are a few of those stories from back when I played my original Vanilla toons on Ravenhold and Kil’jaden. When I write I do the best homework I can on WOW lore, location lore, and recall events from the activity I’m writing about that took place in game. I want the reader to be in the location if I can possibly do it, feeling the chilled air, the hot breath of the Wolf, or hear the sound of the metal.
Doing a little touch up work, and maybe a dab of modernization, I’ll post them up from time to time just incase anyone enjoys reading them.
Thank you in advance. Comments welcome, thank you for reading.
Nightvain | General Ridder
Dual Swords Rogue | Paladin Tank
Exodus Sovereignty
The Trials of Shadows
Crouching, almost purely invisible Nightvain stalked his prey. The lumbering bodies around the campfire laughing and cooking what smelled like bore ribs, dipped and basted in Arathi Spices from the Highlands. Through the few remaining nerves in his nose, he could smell the food; it was oh so pleasant to his ever starving half rotted stomach. Once a well respected man of Lordaeron, who had food in his stomach at the trio of meals every day, now had a hunger that could not be satisfied. He could eat continuously, and never fill up; he could drink wine through the night or even spiced rum from Booty Bay. And never quench his thirst. It was torture, an undying torture, only known to the Undead, not quite dead and yet not quite living either. His abdominal state of in between, monsters yet victims.
Nightvain stopped and slowly peered around from behind a tall tree surrounded by rotting bushes; he looked up toward the moon and saw two of the three bats with their riders gliding over head once again. One was now gone, quickly Nightvain’s mind began racing through possibilities, where did the other bat rider go? Flushing the fear from his mind he slowly began gliding forward, almost as if floating. The movement of his feet was clean and placed perfectly in front of him, if he hadn’t stopped his heart from beating, it would have been in an almost uncontrollable race right now! Even the remaining nerves of his body were starting to prickle at the anticipation, thirty yards, twenty yards, and fifteen yards! He began looping around to the right side of the camp fire to gain a better approach angle on his prey. His glowing eyes dimmed slightly as he squinted his eyes, the unholy light that illuminated his vision was perfect for seeing through the veil of night, amidst the darkness that surrounded men and created fear.
Quickly he moved, like a snake circling a small rat he saw the massive bodies up ahead totally unaware of his presence. His swords at the ready, only a matter of seconds until he struck, he could feel the exposed bones aching at the depth of his stance while moving crouched, the fatigued muscles that remained to power his body throbbed, his shoulders and back muscles flexed heavily under the form fitting leather armor. The long tabard he wore symbolizing his affiliation with a group called Legendary was snug around the chest and hung low to his knee’s, each corner of the sturdy fabric silently waving and grabbing at water droplets from each leaf they brushed against.
He stopped … all stopped around him. He quickly inverted the position of the sword in his left hand pulling the long blade inward to rest against his forearm. He would want more flexibility with the blade during the attack on the primary target after stunning and confusing the massive guard to his prey’s left side. He counted the seconds waiting to strike as he was just beyond the illumination from the camp fire. And he found his moment, the massive guard stood up casting a long shadow between him and the camp fire!
Nightvain quickly rose up!
He pounced forward three steps and leapt through the cold foggy night air! He twisted his body into a tight spin as the long poisoned blade resting against his forearm swept out slamming itself against the massive Tauren’s head! The Tauren was immediately confused and stunned as he turned the opposite direction from Nightvain looking around for what had sent a shimmering throb of pain through his neck!
Nightvain continued the leaping spin as he landed behind the Blood Elf! He finished the lighting fast spin by slamming the flat area of the sword against the nimble legs of Succubus sending the demon swanky winch flipping down onto her face! In another quick spin he rose up wrapping his tattered arms around the neck of the Warlock and tensed his wrist muscles which activated a small Goblin made launcher! A glimmering blob of powder spat from the tiny device on his wrist into the face of a second Tauren blinding him! The Tauren howled and roared falling backwards over a log! In the confusion Nightvain finished wrapping his arm around the Blood Elf Warlock grabbing a hold of the Blood Elf’s neck! He pressed deeply into the nerves of the Warlocks nerves as a distraction as he spun the Warlock around sending the robed elf flying to the ground in a loud thump! Nightvain dropped his boney knee down on the back of the elf and began sweeping his hind leg around to straddle and pin the elf to the ground.
The first massive Tauren covered in plate armor was aware of what was going on and ripped the massive broad sword from his back harness and let out a deafening roar! Bats fluttered away in fear at the agonizing roar of the beast! Nightvain quickly slammed his smaller sword into the mud as he used his main sword to cut the small pouch from the elf’s belt! The Tauren warrior was quickly beginning to bring his broad sword to bear as the second Tauren Shaman was starting to climb to his feet in a pure awful rage from being blinded! Nightvain flipped his wrist sending the small leather pouch flinging around his hand wrapping it up tightly! In one smooth motion his hand brushed against his belt as he leapt into the air jabbing his hand down toward the ground!
In only a millisecond or less a bright explosion of flash powder went off on the ground near the stunned and confused Blood Elf Warlock and soon a quickly expanding and massive cloud of smoke poured up from the ground as the Tauren Warrior drew his massive broad sword down in a swinging motion! The giant blade swept down as quickly as lighting and yet it only hit air! The Rogue was gone!
Nightvain flipped through the air into the exploding flash powder pellet gas and cloud that was quickly forming as he started his escape into the night through the dense Trisfal Glades bushes! As he landed he noticed the Tauren Warrior had swung his sword into nothing, missing anything of physical form and almost cutting the tangled cloak of the warlock he was defending! Just as Nightvain was turning to vanish into the brush he felt the air leave his lungs! He gasped!
In an instant Nightvain was on the mud covered ground with a boney knee in his chest and a pair of blades pressing against his neck! His own hands were pinned to the ground!
“You must be quicker Nightvain if you are to be a successful assassin for our Dark Lady.” The deep menacing voice quietly whispered to him.
“You were lazy and didn’t mind your surroundings young Rogue. Perhaps next time you’ll pay attention to bat riders more closely, or more importantly when there are only two instead of three.” A second menacing voice sounded from out of his view and he felt the wretched hands pinning his arms down tighten.
The Blood Elf Warlock followed by the pair of massive, huge Taurens slowly walked up. Nightvain still on his back completely unable to move could only watch.
“Shall we feed him to the Hunter’s beasts my lord?” Aberdonos said with a purely evil and almost happy sound in his voice at the thought of feeding the restrained Rogue to an undead animal.
“Perhaps we can just eat him instead my lord, he would taste good with those spices in camp.” The other Undead Assassin whispered with again a purely evil tone to him, Oedifice as he pushed the sword closer to Nightvains neck.
A pair of Druids appeared silently out of the shadows as Berynne and Raevona unstealthed through the fog and with a gleaming shimmer they shifted into their natural form of Tauren women as they silently watched. Just as the Blood Elf was about to speak a trio of white explosions went off against some boulders near by distracting everyone and causing Aberdonos to release a hand and pull his dagger as well as causing Nuggums the massive and fierce Tauren Warrior to angle his broad sword ready to strike!
With a silent gurgle and aching howl no one moved as a deep rumbling voice was heard in the fog, Zaratol, the Blood Elf Warlock looked down slightly to see a shining blade at his neck and the second Tauren, Harnn, a Shaman held his hands out as another blade was pointed at his chest.
“Let the Rogue go or I finish the Warlock.” In a deep menacing voice, an Orc Rogue had appeared from the shadows, undetected …… Several unflinching moments passed as no one moved or spoke.
“Well done you two.” Oedifice said staring up at Immobilizer with an almost pleased posture, his face hidden in the shadows of his armor. He rose retracting the sword from the Nightvain’s neck, Aberdonos followed allowing Nightvain up. “We might have a pair of useful Rogues after all.”
The Blood Elf spoke, “You both owe me the price it takes to clean by robes. You got them muddy.” He flipped his hand up motioning everyone to relax, the massive Tuaren’s just snorted annoyed. The pair of Druids were a bit confused as the sound of three bat’s could be heard only meters away.
Nightvain turned quickly pouncing up into a ready combat stance; one of his swords ready, his face twisted as his eyes illuminated brighter with a twisted pleasure, “Happily my Lord.” He slowly held his hand out holding a small leather pouch by his finger tips, “Perhaps the gold in this pouch would pay for it.”
Hours later …
“You did well Nightvain, you are making a fine student of the shadow arts.” Aberdonos spoke quietly as the pair stood on the walls of Lordaeron.
“Do you think the Commander will be impressed?” His twisted face and wicked voice asked wondering what the Captain would say.
“We’ll see young Rogue.” He replied as the pair watched a flight of bat riders off in the distance over the waters surrounding the Undercity, their silhouette shown by the massive moon light as the howl of the bats echoed across the land.
“A war is brewing, and we must all be ready.” Commander Oedifices rusty voice echoed as he unstealthed slowly and sat his aching body down on the wall next to his pair of faithful shadows. “The Dark Lady has a mission for us.” He said in passing as he pulled a stick of spiced jerky from a pouch passing pieces of it out to his rogues.
Present Day…
Nightvain sat alone on the mountain top overlooking the north wall of Undercity. The faithful pair of Hatestrikes pushed deep into the moist soil as he had fallen to his knee’s at the gloom before him. The swords chatter lessened as they felt their masters pain and grew quiet to a dull gnawing commotion.
A month earlier Nightvain had been ordered by the Dark Lady herself to pursue Alliance assassins into the Plague Lands after he had charged out of the gate at the Banshee Queen’s scream with the rest of the Horde. After dispatching of the Gnome and Nightelf targets, he had returned home for the first time.
The memory that had just flooded his mind rolled over him like a zeppelin crashing after seeing his home.
A thick leather pack sat a bit further up the hill next to a bedroll and a slowly crackling camp fire. The scent of roasting meat mixed with the dank and damp scent of the Trisfal Glades. The lingering scent of blood, smoke and fire still lingered as if it was a stain on a white cloak.
It was silent, just a chilled breeze and humid rain were familiar friends here now. Undercity laid in ruins, scared, burned, torn, ripped apart. Empty, that is what laid before him, and empty city, an empty home. A pile of rubble and memories of something that could have been defined as happiness in the midst of Undeath.
Nightvain furled his brow as he wiped the non-existent tears off his cheek. He ground his teeth and pursed his lips as the emotion of the empty stillness welled inside of him.
“Filthy Humans …” He muttered swatting at the grass around him with his Bloodfang Cowl.
He remembered sitting with his fellow rogues, or his sister watching the bat riders gliding out of the now crumbled entrance to the sewers. He remembered them disappearing into the haze, humidity and fog of the Glades at night as the moon rose or crossed the sky over his Dark Lady’s capital.
The empty feeling he had been reborn with had subsided over the years as he grew accustom to being Undead. He could feel that insatiable empty hungry feeling that wouldn’t subside begin to form again in his chest. The site of his home below created physical pain inside of him as Bear, a Worg pup laid next to him feeling his masters sorrow. A larger wolf laid on his other side, its leather saddle creaking as its chin nestled between the massive paws of the animal mount.
The memories began to fuel anger in him, one he had only felt once before in his life after learning it was his own race that massacred him, his regiment, and everything he knew at the Stratholme Culling during the Third War.
Hatred, anger, seething vile sickness grew in him at the thought of Humans who had once again destroyed his home. If he could get sick in the tall grass he would, but instead the ghosts of all he knew seemed to surround and tear through him.
The alone and now solemn Undead rogue laid back in the tall wet grass wailing as the anger flowed over him. His hands rubbed his glowing eyes as he instinctively searched for tears to wipe away as he wailed, there were none. Just his cold pale skin and the leather sewn over his mouth. He squeezed the Bloodfang Cowl as hard as he could attempting to regain the professionalism expected of him.
“You are alone Shadow … mourn.” He could feel the voice of his Commander in the back of his mind.
The hours passed as he mourned Undercity in the cold night of the Trisfal Glades alone …
♂ stories even if I do not care to rp as an apothecary any longer