Bad Moon Rising :: View topic - Doom and Revenge
   
  FAQ Search Memberlist Usergroups Profile Register Log in  
     
 
Doom and Revenge

 
Post new topic   Reply to topic    Bad Moon Rising Forum Index -> Our Future History
View previous topic :: View next topic  
Author Message
Brecken
Not so Grand High Poobah
Site Admin


Joined: 28 Jan 2006
Posts: 1118
Location: Delawhere?
Items


PostPosted: Sat Oct 25, 2008 3:49 pm    Post subject: Doom and Revenge Reply with quote

Or "The Best and Worst Day"

Ritallia let the light shine off her sword just long enough to grab the creature’s attention. When it looked at her, she opened up a flurry of strikes to the chest, tearing the ghoul to pieces, so much so that the dark force that held it to this world could no longer hold to the corpse. She spat, and turned to Tekkie.

“Ju ok?”

“Ya, I ok” Tekkie said stepping out from the wall that had kept her hidden.
It was getting worse. What had started as a few in distant cities had become many in all cities. Brave members of the Argent Dawn fought first, followed by heroes of all kind and now the world. But it was getting worse.

Ritallia and Tekkie had done their part. They had ambushed and killed more than they could count by now. But for every death their ranks were bolstered and after much thought the pair figured it was time to hole up and weather the storm.

Ritallia had incorrectly assumed that the Scourge would not strike lands it all ready had a foot hold in. So she and Tekkie had made their way to Tirisfall is hopes of find less plagued zombies and ghouls. These new one infected everything they touched and if they could avoid that long enough maybe they could survive it. But even for careful planning, the plague had caught up with them here. So nothing to do now but keep moving farther away. Logically, since all the Scourge was here, there was no safer place than Northrend.

“We gonna need a boat.” Ritallia had explained to Tekkie. And the two slipped away into the night. That was two weeks ago. Having found no boats in Tirisfall, they had back tracked to Menethil only to find the harbor fort overrun by the undead. It was no surprise as the trip from Orgrimar to the Eastern Kingdoms had shown that the Alliance had done no better against the new plague than the Horde.

But now here a stone’s throw away from a boat that would complete their plan, a new obstacle had marched its way in their path. Instead of just stealing a boat, which both Ritallia and Tekkie were confident they could do, they now had to battle their way onto a ship and most likely sail away from the dock with an undead crew onboard and then kill the crew. There latest kill had put them at the edge of the dock and to their surprise it was all clear to the gangplank of a small schooner that they could easily manage.

“Nah or neva,” Tekkie chirped and they two moved quickly and quietly to the bottom of the gangplank.

“Dis goin’ betta den I tought.” Ritallia said quietly.

Tekkie laughed louder than she wanted to, drawing the attention of the recently plagued crew towards them. A mass of ghouls made their way off the deck and down the gangplank towards them. Ritallia and Tekkie smiled at how their blunder had managed to clear the schooner for them. They waited until the ghouls had made it almost to the dock before each tossed flash powder at their feet and used the distraction to find the shadows.

The confused undead stopped in their tracks, looking from side to side for their prey. Ritallia and Tekkie deftly worked their way in and out of the ghouls along the gangplank towards the deck. As they passed the last few, Tekkie felt a tug at her boot. She spun quickly to see what had happened. A large claw, belonging to a large toe of a particularly large ghoul had snagged her boot. Her cover blown she turned back around to sprint away only to feel chill ice followed by burning fire rake her back. Tekkie fell forward face to the wooden plank unable to move.

Ritallia caught sight of Tekkie spinning back away from their destination and watched in horror as a burly claw dropped her flat to the plank. Ritallia charged the ghoul and kicked it off the plank into the water. She grabbed Tekkie in one arm and frantically swung her sword at the rushing ghouls with the other. She backed away quickly and when she reached the deck she kicked with all her strength knocking the plank from the schooner, sending one end plunging into the bay. She set Tekkie down and made quick work of the lines holding the boat to the dock. Once she was certain that the rudder position and the tide would carry them away from the dock, she tied of the wheel and rushed back to Tekkie.

Tekkie was still face down and motionless. Ritallia rolled her over. Tekkie was awake and smiling. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small shiny red fruit.

“Appa?” she said before dropping the apple into Ritallia’s lap. Tekkie died quietly just a few seconds after. Ritallia let herself cry silently as she did the only thing that would protect her against Tekkie’s rising. She let her arms go slack and stood up, letting Tekkie slide from her lap through the break in the rail and into the cold waters of the Great Sea.

She turned away and set her course before tying down the wheel again. The ship still needed to be cleared, there could still be more. She wanted there to be more. Her swords would dance with the undead. She searched, but found no undead. White hot with rage she made her way to the bilge and there in the murky water that had seeped in the cracks was a pale figure. Ritallia walked with purpose with both swords ready.
But as she got closer she heard something she did not expect, crying.

The human in the corner looked up and was crying. He was also as shocked to see Ritallia as she was to see him. Ritallia moved a little closer and the man withdrew into the corner even further. He smelled of death, he was infected. Ritallia turned away thinking that she would let him turn, just to kill him. She took a step away and stopped. She turned back around as she reached into a small pouch on her hip. From it she pulled a vile of yellow green syrup, one of many she made just for this trip. She half tossed half threw the vile at the man who still had the wits to catch it. Ritallia then returned topside, leaving the man to his fate.
As he held the vile in his hand, the man contemplated the contents. It was either poison, or the cure. Either way would release him from his fate. He popped the small cork and drank the burning draught deep. He then decided that he would spend whatever time he had left on the deck of his ship and climbed up and out of the bilge.
_________________
I brake for True Iron.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Keryn
Pack Alpha
Site Admin


Joined: 09 Apr 2006
Posts: 6143
Location: Great Lakes, USA
Items


PostPosted: Sat Oct 25, 2008 5:09 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

((Awwww, Tekkie :(
_________________
Ama's Pet Collection
Ama's Mount Collection
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message ICQ Number
Waverley
Friend of Bad Moon Rising



Joined: 03 Jul 2006
Posts: 1429
Location: Wyoming
Items


PostPosted: Sun Oct 26, 2008 9:19 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Excellent story; made me weepy Crying or Very sad
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message Visit poster's website
Brecken
Not so Grand High Poobah
Site Admin


Joined: 28 Jan 2006
Posts: 1118
Location: Delawhere?
Items


PostPosted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 12:52 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The troll had not only let him live, but had cured his disease as well. In trade she had made it very clear, through snarling, spitting and occasionally pointing a sword at him, that he was to keep the course north. Captain Lorner was a merchant sailor by trade but he was no stranger to danger. He had harpooned sea monsters, skirted the maelstrom more than once and had ducked dodged and outwitted more pirates than he could remember. But he knew what waited in the north though he had never been there himself.

Still it was hard to resist this troll. Her obvious ability to kill him at will aside, she had presence. She was pretty, for a troll, but with fairly large tusks. So large in fact that if she looked up for too long, when she looked back down, drool would slide out to the points and drip to the ground. Lorner didn’t find this particularly attractive, but it was a humorous trait he had enjoyed watching over the last several days. What struck him most was that no matter how angry she seemed, it was obvious that she was sad. For all his machismo, Lorner had a soft spot for a damsel in distress, even a drooling troll.

They were both in a predicament now however. Lorner’s ship, Windemere, was best crewed by at least four knowledgeable sailors. Lorner had one sailor, himself, and a very wet behind the ears land lubber. These were unfamiliar waters as well. The best they had been able to manage was northish. And as they went farther north, the wind and currents became more intense. In fact now, keeping the ship point in the same direction it was traveling was a task by itself. They had sighted land early that morning, but dense fog had rolled in since then. With no stars to guide them and a cloudy moonless night just settling in, Lorner had no way to know exactly how far they had traveled and how close to land they actually were.

The troll had needed no instruction on the use of a bow, but lighting an arrow and launching it out to sea took some emphatic gesturing. Eventually he was pretty sure he had explained that if the arrow hit land it would be a marker to guide them in. It took about three shots to see the results of this effort and when they did, they were both scrambling to station to at least lessen the inevitable crash. By the time they could see the arrows through the fog they saw that all three had hit land, which meant they could have and should have dropped anchor after the first arrow.

Now it was too late. The current had carried them in too close for the anchor to grab anything. They were headed for a rocky reef that had claimed another ship before them. But neither Lorner nor the troll seemed to notice. Just beyond the reef, chaos was taking place on the land. Scores of Forsaken were firing barrage after barrage of arrows at a makeshift wooden barricade. Defending the wall were cannons manned by the Alliance. Lorner’s jaw dropped at the sight and he looked over to see that the troll’s had done the same. It was the last thing he saw before he was thrown over the rail by the sudden stop of the Windemere hitting the reef.

Lorner drug himself up onto the muddy shore and scanned around. No sign of the troll. He was close to the wall, perhaps this was his best chance to win his freedom. He dashed quickly down the coast and stopped at the sight of a ring of Alliance sailors all facing in. He worked his way around to catch a glimpse in between them and therein the middle was the troll. Three bodies lay at her feet. Lorner moved closer to the edge of the circle of sailors. The troll jumped forward and struck out, not close to anyone but enough to get the sailors to jump back. Lorner rushed in and yelled “Stop!”

The sailors all seemed surprised to see him and before anyone could speak, Lorner felt an arm go over his shoulder and a blade stick tight against his neck. The troll yelled in her unintelligible language but none of the sailors backed off. He heard the dull thud just a second before he felt the troll go limp and fall on him, slamming him to the ground. By the time he had his senses about him, the sailors were binding the troll's hands and feet. They began to drag her away by the hands body scraping on the frozen hard ground. He reached a hand out as if to stop them and then pulled it back.

“Welcome to Northrend, mate.” One the sailors clapped him on the back as he spoke.

“Yeah, uhh yeah. Thanks.” But Lorner was too busy watching the troll being taken away to much notice.
_________________
I brake for True Iron.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Brecken
Not so Grand High Poobah
Site Admin


Joined: 28 Jan 2006
Posts: 1118
Location: Delawhere?
Items


PostPosted: Tue Jan 27, 2009 8:59 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ritallia found her surrounding very accommodating. The cage she was in was almost tall enough for her to stand straight up and almost long enough for her to lay stretched out. She even had a large pile of straw and a ratty blanket. These humans knew nothing about how to break the spirit of a captive. Not that they could break her spirit, but she was a little insulted that they weren’t even trying.

The cage sat in what Ritallia could only guess was the center of the encampment of humans. She could see the dawn coming on the horizon about an hour away. She had worked out her escape plan hours ago. The lock was easily picked by the spare tools she kept in the lining of her boots opposite of the thin shiv she kept in the other. The cloudy, moonless night would be more than enough cover to practically walk out of the camp. The only part missing was the time of night. Guard watches always changed shifts at dawn. Ritallia had never underestimated the predictability of stupidity. An hour before dawn, all but the most diligent guards would be half asleep at their posts, if not out right passed out. The time had arrived.

She began by piling up the straw and covering it with the blanket. In the dark, at distance, it would like there was at least something in the cage. She quickly picked the lock, stepped outside and closed and locked the door to her short lived quarters. As she turned around she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She quickly drew her tiny blade and stood ready to face her foe. Instead of an armed guard, before her was the ship captain. He was bent over, breathing hard and he held up a finger as if asking Ritallia to wait. She stood there impatiently while the human caught his breath. After a few seconds he stood up and held out a large ring, from which several keys dangled. Ritallia laughed softly and smiled before starting to find her way out of the encampment.

Ritallia had only taken a few steps before the human grabbed her arm. He pointed in the direction she was walking and shook his head from side to side. He then pointed the other way and tugged on her arm. Ritallia followed. It took about fifteen minutes for them to pick their way through the more sleepy guards and around the more awake mobile patrols. At last they reached the opening in the makeshift wall and they both stopped. The captain paused before whispering to her in the common tongue of the humans. He then handed her a single gold piece and gave her hand a squeeze before shooing her away and then himself disappearing back into the encampment.

The human’s help had actually sped up her escape plan significantly. And while she had originally planned to just slip away into the darkness, the extra time allowed for a more appropriate exit. Ritallia eyed the cannons on top of the wall and was instantly struck with an idea. She made her way up the stairs and found the cannon master fast asleep. Sheep picked up a cannon ball and bonked him solid on the noggin to make sure she wasn’t interrupted. She might have killed him but the embarrassment he was about to suffer was worth his life to her. Ritallia quickly turned the cannon back into the encampment. She grabbed to powder charges and put the first one in followed by a cannon ball, then she stuffed the second one in followed by three more cannon balls. Finally she lit the fuse and dropped it into the cannon. She quickly jumped over the side of the wall and sprinted off into the darkness.

Just as she hoped, the cannon went off a few seconds after she jumped, the two explosions were less than a second apart but the results were perfect. The first charge started the remaining contents just a fraction of the way out of the barrel before the second charge went off. The results were three very fast moving cannon balls randomly blasting into the camp and one very broken cannon. Ritallia laughed while running towards the Forsaken stronghold. She moved at a quick pace but was in no real hurry now the danger was over.

No sooner had she thought that she heard a stern voice.

“Its been a long time, Rita!” the familiar voice called out.

She recognized it immediately and stopped dead in her tracks. She crouched into a fighting stance and looked all around her but could see nothing in the dark. Then she was struck from behind, a heavy body check knocked her to the ground. She stood up again fast and searched for her adversary.

“You’ll not escape this time. You were lucky in the Barrens, but there’s no one to help you here.” The voice said.

“Ju no scare me Brandt.” Ritallia called out.

Again she was bashed to the ground and Brandt laughed as he continued to hide in the shadows.

“I don’t mean to scare you at all, I’m mean to collect from you.” Brandt said with venom in his voice.

“I don’ wan’ no trouble with Ravenholdt no more.” Rita replied. “Ju go tell dem I make good and pay up an’ den I don’ wanna her from dem eva ‘gain.”

“This isn’t about The Manor darlin’. Thanks to your little stunt in Netherstorm I don’t work for them anymore.” Brandt stepped from the shadows and held up his hand to Rita which was now missing the little finger. Ritallia knew this was the price of superior failure for the thieves’ guild. Those marked by the missing digit were expelled from the guild as well. Brandt’s well planned and perfectly executed plan in Netherstorm to capture Ritallia and force her to pay her dues to the guild had fallen short thanks to Ritallia’s uncanny luck, but that’s another story.

Ritallia tried to make light of the situation. “”Ey, now ju an’ me we bot’ be non-guildies, maybe we work tagetha now ya?” She forced a smile.
Brandt snarled and pulled out his daggers. He howled in frustration at Ritallia and lunged for her. It was a clumsy attack by an enraged opponent. Rita easily side stepped it and pushed Brandt as he went by. Off balance Brandt went face first into the frozen dirt. In the distance the unmistakable sound of skeletal warhorses were fast approaching.

“Saved ‘gain.” Rita mocked her long time rival. “Ju betta get ta runnin’, dese deddas no gonna treat ju nice like da Tauren.” She took off towards the oncoming cavalry without a second thought.

Brandt spit blood from his mouth where he had split his lip. More furious now than ever at the indignation caused by this one troll, Brandt stored the anger away for their next meeting. And there would be a next meeting. The sun had crested the horizon and another day’s planning gone to waste. Brandt retreated to the human encampment.
_________________
I brake for True Iron.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Display posts from previous:   
Post new topic   Reply to topic    Bad Moon Rising Forum Index -> Our Future History All times are GMT - 6 Hours
Page 1 of 1

 
Jump to:  
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot vote in polls in this forum
 
     
Original World of Warcraft™ Horde forum design by boo, 2004 - ez-life.net
World of Warcraft™ is a trademark and Blizzard Entertainment is a trademark or
registered trademark of Blizzard Entertainment in the U.S. and/or other countries.


Powered by phpBB © 2001, 2002 phpBB Group
:: Spelling by SpellingCow. ::