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| Ras |
| Posted: Feb 19 2006, 03:17 AM |
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((Note: This is a closed RP story that will be updated with new "chapters" periodically; however, feel free to make comments or suggestions.))
CHAPTER ONE: DARK PREPARATIONS
Sweat beaded on Ras' brow in spite of the chilly night air. He held the strange device - what had Nang said it was called? - as delicately as he could with his calloused hands. Carefully he lowered it into the shallow pit he had dug, gently settled it onto the bottom, and slowly drew his hands out of the hole. He then concealed the device with a thin layer of dirt from the small mound beside him. Ras stepped backwards and stood beside his fellow warrior Soul’jah among the trees lining the road.
“What did Nang say was de name of dese t’ings?”
“Dey be called land-mines, mon,” the forest troll answered. “Cause you put dem in de earth ta say, ‘Dis land be mine.’”
Ras and Soul’jah had spent the past few hours sowing Nang’s metallic seeds of death in the road just south of the human town of Darkshire. Ras understood nothing of the inner workings of the land-mines, but he could barely hide his disapproval. War was something to be enjoyed to the fullest; killing your enemy with hidden explosives was a boring game compared with driving your spear through his ribs. But Nang had ordered it, and the Blood Sage of the Tribe was not to be questioned, only obeyed.
The two warriors shouldered their weapons and packs and headed for the Black Moon encampment to report to Nang, their work finished for now. Nang was a devoted practitioner of both the demonic arts and the even more mysterious “engineering”; Ras could never decide which one the Orc would accidentally kill himself with first.
After a short walk through the woods, Ras and Soul’jah reached the clearing where the Tribesmen had set up camp. Riding raptors scratched the ground, tied to their posts in a neat row. Brother Wuurl was bent over a cooking fire, tending to a batch of sausages. Trolls, Orcs and Tauren moved briskly, sharpening weapons and performing arcane rites in preparation for the coming battle. The warriors reached Nang’s tent, where the succubus Aezthea stood guard. The demon eyed the two with her unnaturally large but beautiful dark eyes.
“The Master is busy,” she purred. “He will see you shortly.”
Soul’jah nodded and began to engage Aezthea in conversation. Ras knew that courting a demon was at best futile and at worst deadly, but he still reached into his pouch for a small lump of coal and offered it to the succubus. She smiled sweetly, displaying her gleaming fangs, and daintily popped the coal into her mouth like a piece of candy. She munched contentedly for a while, then suddenly stiffened up as if paralyzed. Her eyes seemed to glaze over.
“You will report to the Master now,” she said, the spell apparently broken.
Ras entered Nang’s tent a pace behind Soul’jah; the warriors rendered a respectful salute to the Blood Sage. The Orc returned the salutes with a brief nod.
“Your mines have all been set?”
“Dey have,” answered Soul’jah. The two trolls had made up only one of three teams charged with setting land-mines outside Darkshire.
“Excellent,” Nang grinned. “You two are now to report to Tarka. Make sure your weapons are in readiness.”
“At once.” Ras and Soul’jah bowed and saluted again, then left the tent. The second land-mine team, Talzuun and Nyaka, were waiting outside. The warriors walked briskly to their tent and grabbed their weapons and shields.
As they moved through the encampment, they saw Nang and a few others gathered around a large circle carved into the earth along with other strange lines and arcane symbols. Curious, the two moved closer to the area. Ras realized one of the figures gathered there was a human; judging by his clothes, he belonged to the Night Watch, the elite guardsmen of Darkshire. He was bound hand and foot on his knees in the center of the circle. Facing him was a small statue of a demonic warrior. Tears streamed from his red eyes; he would likely have been screaming had it not been for the gag in his mouth. The pitiful creature only moaned softly.
With arms outstretched, palms turned down, Nang closed his eyes and began to chant in a bizarre tongue. The other three - the priests Wuurl and Kulah and Nang’s warlock apprentice, Meddlu - did likewise around the circle. The Watcher in the center moaned louder.
The statue began to glow an ethereal green, the all-too-familiar color of demonic fire. All demons’ eyes are that color, except those of succubi, who use magic arts to make theirs appear beautiful. The intensity of the glow increased steadily until it was almost hard for Ras to look at. Nang chanted louder and louder, the guttural noises joining with the human’s cries, until all suddenly fell silent. The glow faded quickly from the statuette; the Watcher collapsed onto the ground. To Ras’ surprise, Brother Wuurl left the circle, cut his bonds and helped him to his feet. Nang turned and walked toward his tent; the human - or whatever he now was - followed obediently at the warlock’s heels.
Ras fought back a sudden wave of revulsion at the dark ritual, shook his head, and went with Soul’jah to report to Tarka.
This post has been edited by Ras on Feb 19 2006, 03:31 AM
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| Martyn |
| Posted: Feb 19 2006, 12:48 PM |
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((Probably one of the most of teh most exciting stories I've ever read! I can't wait for the rest! Bravo Zulu!))
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Kazzy-face! |
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| Darakai |
| Posted: Feb 19 2006, 01:52 PM |
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((That's some fantastic writing  but I only noticed one problem with it... not enough Darakai  )) |
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| Wildfang |
| Posted: Feb 19 2006, 01:53 PM |
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((Even though we all know how this will end  (Nangs utter domination of Darkshire), Still a good read,can't wait to see more))
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Wildfang, token pirate of bmt |
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| Tarogg |
| Posted: Feb 19 2006, 05:33 PM |
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Where is Fehova. That is all I want to know
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Tarogg for Paladin 07 |
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| Dethrithos |
| Posted: Feb 19 2006, 09:14 PM |
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Here's an Idea, let's not ask to be put in the story, eh? Let's just wait and read! Yeah! That sounds good to me!
(Seriously though, I think we will all be put in eventually, so let's just wait. Maybe not all, but quite a few. It is his Idea, let HIM run with it.)
Love it Ras. Makes mine look like crap. I need more practice. Keep it up!
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I might be a Priest, but for your own good, please, aknowledge that voluntary carelessness on my part is just as deadly as that monster.
Priest Rules:
1. If I die, it's the tank's fault.
2. If the tank dies, it's my fault.
3. If you die, it's your own damn fault! |
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| Ras |
| Posted: Feb 20 2006, 12:07 AM |
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Group: Blackmoon Tribe Members
Posts: 150
Member No.: 16
Joined: 23-July 05
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(( Thanks for your compliments. No promises, but you will all probably be included at some point or another. Also, please correct me if I get something wrong about your character - personality, appearance, weapons, etc. ))
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| Lothario |
| Posted: Feb 22 2006, 03:38 PM |
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| QUOTE (Kalleirn @ Feb 19 2006, 05:48 PM) | | ((Probably one of the most of teh most exciting stories I've ever read! I can't wait for the rest! Bravo Zulu!)) |
((Huh? Zuleu?
I can't say I completely enjoy the story, because I really wish it had an ending already  . It is a good start though, and I'm looking forward to future installments.)) |
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| Martyn |
| Posted: Feb 22 2006, 11:51 PM |
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| QUOTE (Lothario @ Feb 22 2006, 03:38 PM) | ((Huh? Zuleu?
I can't say I completely enjoy the story, because I really wish it had an ending already . It is a good start though, and I'm looking forward to future installments.)) |
Bravo Zulu... it's a Navy term for job well done 
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Kazzy-face! |
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| Lothario |
| Posted: Feb 23 2006, 12:58 AM |
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| QUOTE (Kalleirn @ Feb 23 2006, 04:51 AM) | | QUOTE (Lothario @ Feb 22 2006, 03:38 PM) | ((Huh? Zuleu?
I can't say I completely enjoy the story, because I really wish it had an ending already . It is a good start though, and I'm looking forward to future installments.)) |
Bravo Zulu... it's a Navy term for job well done |
((Then I guess it's rather obvious most of my family is in the army  )) |
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| Ras |
| Posted: Mar 13 2006, 02:41 AM |
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CHAPTER TWO: BLOOD AND THUNDER
Lightning flashed in the night sky above Darkshire. Anxiously chewing on a piece of dried pork, Ras adjusted the quiver and scabbard hanging from his belt. His nostrils felt filled with the intoxicating scent of battle; waiting in the road for Nang’s signal seemed like an eternity. Ras stood in a single rank with the other warriors of the Tribe: Soul’jah; the two massive Tauren bulls, Kalleirn and Patamon; and the wild-eyed troll Dara’kai, the unofficial commander of the Black Moon warriors. The five of them had set their shields on the ground in front of them along with their short axes and swords; they waited with shortbows in hand, spears slung across their backs.
Behind the warriors stood the rest of the Tribe: shamans with their totems at the ready, mages reviewing arcane scrolls, priests moving through the ranks offering words of wisdom and comfort to those in need. The Tribe’s three druids stood holding hands in a circle, praying to the Earthmother. Hidden among the trees above the Tribesmen, Tarka, the Prime Fury, and his team of archers and riflemen -- many of them inexperienced whelps -- crouched atop a low ridge along with their small menagerie of fierce war animals.
Finally, Ras’ long ears picked up the sound of riders coming from the south. The Dark Elder Sahn’jin, wisest of all the Tribesmen and their undisputed leader, rode into view, attended by Nang, who was himself followed closely by Meddlu. Every troll, Orc, and Tauren stopped their final preparations to salute and bow respectfully to their Jin.
“Blood Sage, I put dis battle in your hands,” said Sahn’jin, looking into Nang’s dark eyes. “I will join de ot’er priests. Glory to de Tribe, glory to de Horde.”
“Glory to the Tribe,” intoned Nang, bowing low in his saddle atop his fiery steed. Sahn’jin dismounted and handed the reins of his raptor to a waiting whelp. The ranks of the Tribe parted to allow Nang to move to the front. He sat up in his saddle and bellowed in a near-deafening tone, no doubt amplified somehow with some enchantment.
“Hear me, people of Darkshire! Your days of living in safety from the Horde’s wrath are at an end! Do as commanded, do not resist, and you shall live. If you disobey, all of you will perish in flame and agony! Hear the voice of Nang Deathgrip, Blood Sage of the Black Moon Tribe, and tremble!”
At Nang’s proclamation, the formerly sleeping town became a beehive of activity. The alarm bell in the tower of the town hall rang out shrilly, and Watchmen hurriedly took to their posts. Ras could hear much shouting in the humans’ strange language. Soon enough, a formation of the Night Watch faced them from the southern entrance of the town, brandishing torches and shortswords.
“Not as if we did nah give ‘em a choice, I s’pose,” muttered Soul’jah under his breath. Ras could only grin - the moment of truth was at hand.
Nang raised his hand to the sky, as did Meddlu. A shower of fire and brimstone rained down upon the humans. Frenzied, they raced toward the Tribesmen, screaming battle cries. Bless de Loa, but dere be a lot of ‘em, thought Ras as he nocked an arrow to his bowstring along with the other warriors.
Their numbers soon began to thin, however, as they charged headlong into Nang’s field of land-mines. Watchmen were hurled into the air like rag dolls while others gaped in astonishment - was this some new demon’s magic? But the humans were well-trained, and barely slowed their charge even as the ground erupted all around them.
“Ready!” hollered Dara’kai. The warriors pulled their bowstrings taut and began looking for targets.
“Loose!” Ras shot his arrow, only to watch it bury itself in a burly Watchman’s thigh. The man fell to the ground, but recovered quickly, snapped the shaft and stood again. Hours of marksmanship lessons with Tarka had done little to improve Ras’ aim; he had been hoping to start his night with a clean kill.
The archers on the ridge were having much more success; men were sprouting arrows left and right from their chests, bellies, and heads. But the humans’ furious rush continued. Nang and Meddlu rode around to the rear of the assembled Tribesmen. Ras picked up his sword and shield and assumed the proper stance, as did his fellow warriors.
“For de Tribe! For Orgrimmar! For Sen’jin!” they shouted as one. The two forces clashed in a horrible din of steel scraping and flesh tearing. Ras laughed at the top of his lungs as he lashed out with his sword, savoring the feeling of the crack of his enemies’ bones at the force of his blows.
“Hold the line!” shouted the Orc shaman Warg, who had recently assumed the title of Feral Mystic. His and his fellow shamans’ totems spat liquid fire at the oncoming enemies. Suddenly, the druids entered the fray, in the form of three snarling, horned bears. They slashed mercilessly with their black claws and sank their teeth into the humans’ necks.
Some of the Watchmen, despairing, turned and fled back toward the town, apparently preferring to take their chances again with the mine-field. But their plans were cut short by the arrival of Nyaka, Talzuun, and the other assorted Black Moon thieves and assassins, who seemed to leap out of the shadows to carve the cowards to pieces with their long daggers. Now surrounded on all sides, the remaining Watchmen fell one by one to the blades and spells of the Tribe.
“Forward into the town! Let none escape!” Nang commanded. The Tribesmen rushed into the town square, whooping and waving their weapons wildly. The work of rounding up the townspeople would soon begin.
A shadow blocked out the moon, and was gone. Then another, and another. Ras craned his neck to look upward, only to see gryphons circling in the sky. He cursed under his breath. Things had just gotten more… complicated.
This post has been edited by Ras on Mar 13 2006, 02:46 AM
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| Tarogg |
| Posted: Mar 13 2006, 11:22 AM |
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(( Ras I am loving it man just lovin it))
druid powow
This post has been edited by Fehova on Mar 13 2006, 03:05 PM
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Tarogg for Paladin 07 |
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| Wildfang |
| Posted: Mar 13 2006, 02:58 PM |
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Awesome, I love it. Wish our actual attacks were that well planned.
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Wildfang, token pirate of bmt |
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| Dethrithos |
| Posted: Mar 13 2006, 05:53 PM |
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Nice. When do Mages put on a Fire Work display? lol Not...
Very nice Ras, looks like you put up and work out everything before writing it, excellent work. I am in awe. You should write a novel or something.
"Fury of the Black Moon Tribe" lol That'd sell well. Anyways, excellent work, again. Loving it, and am awaiting the next chapter impatiently.
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I might be a Priest, but for your own good, please, aknowledge that voluntary carelessness on my part is just as deadly as that monster.
Priest Rules:
1. If I die, it's the tank's fault.
2. If the tank dies, it's my fault.
3. If you die, it's your own damn fault! |
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| Jenathar |
| Posted: Mar 13 2006, 07:03 PM |
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Posts: 108
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woooo i get to be one of the tribes shamans on the second line of defense SWEET  , anyways good job ras, but to bad we dont really kill everything like that...........
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an exsuce is a toll of incompatence - Mackenzie brown
BOOM!! headshot!!!! |
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