Act I: Land Torn Asunder, Blood Upon The Soil

[Swgrclan 2682]

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZ_lPybg93g

War ... it is the lifeblood of this land, and all others. It has become a way of life; the natural cycle of the mortal man, he who would cut down his cousins, his brethren down for the glory of his people; those that wound refuse to cooperate with their distant kin. But they know naught true struggle; they do not know a true fall until it is willed upon them. Warriors of the North know this struggle -- they know fire, blood and slavery. They stacked their stone bricks high, only for them to topple a millennium later. Alas, they are but the Creator's failed creation; the tribal outcasts stuck upon a land they seek to strive, but is already claimed by the Scaled Ones. The Winged Beasts. The Gods of the Sky. Those who bear breath of flame, claws of blades and teeth of daggers. They had fallen into darkness, and thus, they seek to bring the same to others.

They had rallied in the night. Their numbers uncountable, the Bohra Dragon-Warriors who serve under the will of the Stone Serpent prepared for battle. Their lord, their master, bore two targets; two victims who He, with all the confidence in the world, thought He could fell. Oren combats the world on it's own with but the sparse assistance of the Mali'Aheral; and it was weakness Malghourn saw, weakness in the hearts of men as they raised their arms in open defiance against the other four races -- against the rest of the world. War weakens man, and so the Stone Serpent took advantage of such.



They charged upon the Orenian capital of Vekaro with massive numbers only half-hidden beneath the northern forests. Arrows rained upon bewildered soldiers; the make of archers, whom were cut down in their prime nigh the moment after they trekked from the trees in advance. But the Stone Serpent's loyal Dragon-Warriors were not as cowardly to watch their comrades die. With a furious charge they surged upon the walls and the fools that passed the gate to face them. They fought hard, but their efforts were nill. Oren dwindled their numbers -- or so they thought. Malghourn brought with him a force akin to a siege attack; and so, from the south, the Bohra and their archers raised their ladders and clambered upon Vekaro's walls. Their numbers were too great for the collective Stranniks and the other Orenian forces; and so, after a bout of rage and clash of blades, the humans were forced back into their keep. From Above, Malghourn drenched their homes in black dragonsflame and upon the ground his minions claimed the innards of the city.

But in due time, the humans charged from their keep of stone and metal. They cut the massive force down; dwindling the tribal army to but stragglers after many others had been felled to their blades. Rallying the rest of their warriors together, the Bohra Dragon-Worshipers made their last stand against the Orenians outside their walls; embracing an honorable death through the passage of battle. Only black blood and corpses littered the exterior and interior of the city. It had become a battleground. Enraged that such a force was thwarted, Malghourn dispersed from Vekaro's skies; seeking another target, one more feeble and without walls which bar the progress of bloodshed.



He sought those of Tahariae; those of the light who relished peace and quiet within the sanctity of the Vallendar Temple. But as warhorns sounded and warcries of equal volume ripped through the air, the Clerics and holymen of the Way of Light took up arms to meet their attackers that rallied before their land. History repeated itself oh-so-quickly as they were charged by the savage warriors of Malghourn and fell before the light of the Clerics, but with every one Bohra slained, another five took his place. Hope dwindled within the gathered defenders, whom took quick notice to the fact that uncountable savage soldiers literally surrounded their land with their units that would not cease in their charge. But others came to their aid; Dwarves, travelling warriors and the common enemy of the Black Wyrm. They assisted the Clerics with their toils, and in the end, found victory; and black blood did stain them and their land, a reminder of the slaughter that took place, and a warning of the slaughter that shall come again.



The cheers of victorious mortals rung all across the planes of the Fringe. They bore relieve and happiness, where the master of the fallen Bohra armies only held immense, blackened rage. Malghourn, perched atop a mighty peak, outstretched his wings -- releasing a mighty roar which caused a clamor to run through the land; a noise wrought of pain, fury and bloodlust. This slaughter was not the last to come; for many more shall meet the settlers of the Fringe. They will not escape the Stone Serpent, He Who Stalks The North.



[[ I thank those who attended the two large Scourge attacks today. Expect more - and gratitude to those who gave me positive feedback on these encounters. ]]

[Cooonie 55]

Meanwhile, Luthien is spotted in the Alrasian markets, buying celebration cake for many to feast on.

 

((Also, FIRST.

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.