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Attack on Stormwind!
((Due to my lag, I'll post a bit here. Just to let you guys know, OOCly CLEARING Stormwind is -not- something you should do. This is an IC event, and going in there and stealthing around, and killing zombies is -not- something we want you doing. Please, do us a favor, and if you do this ICly, post about it in the forums. Yes, it must be well written, and no, it isn't something that could be taken care of in a few hours. So, please, again, if you want Stormwind to be cleared, make it RP, don't just go in OOC and clear it yourself.))
[Image: desc_head_freemasons.jpg]

△Move along.△


((The following is quoted from the notes to the Tides of Change events, most of it fits with this.

"At the moment, you may notice there are various spawns and monster groups all over Azeroth. It's important to seek these out and take care of them regularly, and when we say "take care of them" we don't talk about "grinding" - we're talking about forming roleplaying ties, gathering adventurers, and going out to fight a roleplay battle against these monsters, and tell the tale on the forums with your friends to let us know how it went. [...]

Now there will those who argue that this "interferes with current roleplay." However, these things are not new to the server...they already exist, they always have. If anything, people have spent a considerable amount of time ignoring these dangers and pretending they weren't there. That's no longer going to be possible."

Most importantly; RP!
All makt åt Tengil, vår befriare!

Arazol was angry... He'd been in Stormwind on a mission from the Cenarions, he'd been kept in the stone walls and unnatural constructions of the Humans and now... This? No, it was the last thing he needed. They may have come without warning, but that was all the warning he cared to have. As the zombies tried to break from the Trade District he slaughtered them. With tooth and with claw he protected the Park alongside the remaining Elves until the guard had the zombies corralled in one section of the city.

Now, with the Trade District overrun, Arazol rests. He doesn't know how he will return to Darnassus, or even where Tarania is, but he knows he'll perservere... Because, by the Goddess, he won't let any damned bag of rotting flesh stand in his way.

Edit: Arazol rejoiced when he found Tarania alive and well. He followed her and a group of other evacuees to the Tram, preferring not to stay in the ruined Human city.
Akkhi'na awoke to the sound of the Cathedral bell tolling. She quickly threw on her robe and ran down the stairs of the Inn, poking her head outside the door. As she does so, watching the citizens fleeing, a large zombie runs towards her. She quickly dispatches the zombie with a blast of lightning, gasping for air at the amount of energy it took. She ran back inside, running up the stairs, gathering her belongings and running outside, dispatching zombie after zombie to allow a few of the refugees to get past and across the bridge to Old Town. She eventually follows as she sees a giant, lumbering Flesh Golem and a small, Gnome-sized warlock on a horse shouting curses and threats of "imminent doom". She runs through Old Town, shouting in her best attempt at Common to help refugees escape. "Geet tu ze Trem, ju eedyuts! Nao! Ve mosht eskehpe!"

Akki, along with several refugees, exit the Deeprun Tram on the Ironforge side. Akki, disoriented, runs off to the Hall of Explorers. She finds a corner and sits, sobbing quietly to herself, when Nehila appeared, comforting her. Together, Nehila and Akkhi'na made their way to Shattrath City, the only place they can still see as safe.

(( ...It was so hard not to type "GET TO ZE CHOPPA" there, it really was... ))
A refugee informed his cousin, a Cartel member. Word spread, and hopeful Mercenaries of all kinds react.
˜★Sketch Blog
Galder Stibbons closed his eyes, and concentrated.


It had been a rather tough day. He had taken a day off from the Librarian Work at the Sparkspin Academy to visit Stormwind, have a drink with some old friends from the Arcane University, fetch a few books at their Library. The closest he got to a day off, anyways.

Galder had indeed suspected something was amiss when he spotted the pillars of smoke rising from Stormwind, but he brushed all the vague suspicions aside when faced with the all-too-real threat of undead crawling, and to some degree walking, at every streetcorner. He'd not gotten the time to compose himself and decide what to do next, before he had ran into a group of guards and survivors. The stragglers told him that the Mage Quarter was besieged by undead, so what could he do? The Arcane University of Stormwind was, after Dalarans fall, the only real centre of Magic left in this part of the world! The Books, the artefacts.. Even the High Elfs studied here nowadays. With the help of a couple of other survivors, he had snuck in trough some detours.

It appeared that so far, the Sanctum and University was intact, and the undead temporarily shut off from the Quarter. After a brief talk with one of the Archmages, Galder signed up to help reinforcing the protective wards.


Galder opened his eyes, and felt the surge of arcane energy flow trough him.
Common people sometimes spoke of the Arcane being addictive as shimmerweed, but what did they know? It was'nt like an addiction, it was like having a moments understanding of how the world worked, how it was put together! And then it'd disappear, but with the promise that someday, someone would figure it out. Perhaps even you would, if you only got enough peeks at the web that kept the World together and spinning.

He let the energies swirl out of his hands, and reinforce the shimmering wards of the Wizards Sanctum. With every spell, he grew more certain that they'd pull trough. They -were- Wizards, after all. They had the knowledge, and the cleverness to use it. He reported to Archmage Malin for his next task.
Hogral Coalbeard - Impulsive Explorer
Therai is missing in action after a group of undead ambushed her, Lethys, Arazol and Therodore, along with some nearby guards. She was knocked back into a wall by one of the ghouls, and vanished from sight moments later. She is nowhere to be found at this point.

EDIT: Therai has been located, and she was infected by the ghouls.
Time had long gone since Mekkodin had gone missing from Azeroth.

Not even the Drunken Muffins knew where he went, but today.... the zombies found out.

The door buckled as the zombies slammed with unnatural strength against it's bindings.

Behind the door sat Mekko, his butt planted firmly on the edge of the bed. The rest of the room was a mess, the floor covered and completely invisible with the naked eyes due to the massive amounts of device parts and bits of explosives that clouded the wooded floor.

Mekkodin's fingers rolled lightly against the rifle in his hand, it was his new found glory. It took him months to make, and it took him even longer to get used to using.

The gun was massive in size, and the large rounds that filled the circular were just as large. An ornate barrel decked up on top of another ornate barrel, the metal of the two seemed to stretch several feet in length before reaching the large cylinder that held the twelve rounds of death shot. The tips of the barrels were glazed, almost perfectly smooth until the metal reached a point that it connected with a long lance type of bayonet. Two of the existed, one attached to each barrel.

The stock of the rifle seemed to fit perfectly against Mekko's shoulder as he held it up, pointing it at the door, waiting for the moment that the zombies made it in.

By now the door was about to break and Mekko's trigger finger was getting itchy.

Seconds later, the door came down, and the zombies fell over, trying to all pour in at once. A smile broke Mekkodin's cold face, as two small explosive charges detonated when the door came down, sending shrapnel into the nearby zombies.

Two zombies fell over, metal pieces had bore through their skull and emptied their remaining brains onto the floor.

A click followed as the end of the rifle exploded, two of the twelve shells igniting. A cloud of red extended from the barrel, the shots combusted in midair and sunk into the flesh of the nearest zombie, exploding moments afterwords.

The zombie exploded, sending chunks of meat and bile everywhere, the explosion took two other zombies with it.

The last zombie seemed to leap over the other bodies, lunging for Mekkodin's face, until the bayonet's of the rifle dug deep into it's neck. And a single, solid shot round pierced through the zombies skull, turning it into a limp corpse.

The door of the house was torn down, opening into the street. Mekkodin gathered his things... a satchel that seemed to have more explosive in it than the entire Dwarven district, and his goggles, which covered over the dwarf's black eyeballs.

Exiting the building, Mekkodin ran the rifle through another zombie, firing the second round off into its head, letting the revolving cylinder click over into the next chamber.

The walk to the tram wasn't far, but a half a score of zombies stood in the way.

A strike from a match light the nearby shadows up, as Mekkodin lit a round mithril fragment bomb, rolling it into the crowd of zombies. Their mindless faces eyed the explosive, one actually picking it up and trying to bit it.

The teeth made a metallic tink on the bomb, and as they did... it exploded, eating away at the half score of zombie's bodies in a matter of moments.

The way was clear, but not for long....One good run would get him into the tram's tunnel, allowing Mekkodin to escape into Ironforge.
Mekkodin Kotorin Firebeard

I'm gonna part yer hair wi' this axe ye nauseatin' wussy footed spyrokeet gas bag !

Ye pig faced puppy killin' stick O' manure !

What's this about you breathin' my air ? ye scabby arsed bairn stealin' bile bag !
Oleander and a few other Goldspanner employees arrive in Ironforge after a huge run-around with the flights. They go about posting small flyers about 'generators' in hopes this device will make the fight a little easier.

In addition to that, some volunteer to help the injured or aid the fight when not billposting.
˜★Sketch Blog
Scout Wrote:Therai has been located, and she was infected by the ghouls.

The ghouls are not carrying any sort of pathogens, poisons, or diseases. If anyone is "infected" by ghoul wounds, the infection is of the normal poorly-cleaned-wound type.
[Image: Q1-1.png]

"We are here on earth to fart around, and don't let anybody tell you different."
~Kurt Vonnegut
Dead bodies near the Monstrosity come "alive" and immeadiatly starts fighting Timtus´ enemies, they are however, mindless and after a while collapse. Dead.

[[To clarify, you can´t play one.]]
All makt åt Tengil, vår befriare!

Eagle rode upon his stallion, Having been away on operation up north, he now returned to Stormwind to see his friends. Though on his way he could see plumes of smoke and hear small explosions emitting from the capital city. riding closer with the upmost speed he came within visual of Goldshire. A shadow of its former self, a couple of guards bodies lay on the road, The necks of them split and bitten down to the bone. Shaking his head in disgust he immediatley turned heel and began riding for Ironforge.

Hopefully it'll be safe there.
But love to me is. When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I think, to me, love is: incompleteness in absence.
:// I love her
((This is the second part, the first part is in the in-character forum, the topic being: "Domosael, nightmare do come true"))

"She can not be there... She must not be there...", whispered to himself, at the brink of tears, Domosael, after being able to sneak past the ghouls in the fire-consumed Stormwind.

He peeked at a house a yard away from behind the gate he was hiding, in Mage Square. the house was also burning like the rest of the city. It was his home many years ago, where he lived with his twin sister, Mirlyn, and his tutor. Now it was all being taken away from him, again... all because of the scourge...

An acute pain needled his heart, while his mind was blurred by unbearable thoughts, she can not be... She must not be... They came... just like he said in his youth... they came...

He wanted to get inside the house, rescue his siter, run away like they aways did... But he knows he is powerless now, just as powerless as he were when he was a scared child... The scourge... They came... the scourge... THE CURSED SCOURGE!!!

His eyes became blank. No more thoughts went through his mind. His heart stopped hurting. He could not feel his soul anymore. He only needed to get out of there... For now.

"Sorry Mirlyn, I could not save you before, and I can not save you now..." Domosael whispered, with tears in his eyes, but no feelings in his heart. He could live no more, for life had no more reason. He needed to wander the lands again, but now, not for tailoring, this time, it was for revenge.

Before leaving his hiding place to sneak inside the chaos again, he took one more glance to the house: "...But I will not let them take your smile from me"
Everyone, deep inside, is a poet
Last night was a (insert obscene word here). Sipping the hot cup of tea steaming in her pale, slender hand, Demonassa mulled over the latest events. She had just managed to buy passage over the sea back to the Eastern Kingdoms only to find her seven-year-old at the obviously non-existent mercy of a ghoul. Where was Gordon, that fat bald-headed holy man? Where was he when he should have protected Vaelasa? He should be the one having to deal with her nightmares every ten minutes when she wakes up.

Demonassa sighed. That wasn't the way to think. For all she knew, Gordon was dead. Separated from Vaelasa somehow, or he might have gone to see why the bells were tolling and left her in Old Town to give her a head-start for the tunnels in case something was wrong – and it very much was. Regardless she was a smart child. She crawled under the foundation of a building and waited. Panic merely became her enemy when the people flooded the streets, rioting for a clear path to the trams as the stench of death and the hungry snarls were rising up behind them.

Next Demonassa knew she was in Old Town, face to face with a lingering ghoul hovering over her unconscious child. A cautiously unseen strike from a silver blade and the wet rasp of ripping flesh made quick work of the ‘tragically' undead individual, who was now not so tragically and entirely deceased. Vaelasa experienced the insecure thrill of being heaved over her mother's slender shoulder and the cold gust of air as she was rushed into the smoky Dwarven District and deep, deep, deep into the dark Deeprun tunnels…

She slumbered for now. Demonassa met with friends and tucked her daughter in, convinced they would both require their energy for a longer journey ahead should the ghouls have desire to break through the tunnels… or even make the long trip north by a slower route. In any case mother and child were prepared, as was often required of them in everyday life.

A cry rang out from the bedrooms above: a round of sobs following a shriek for mother. Demonassa finished off her tea and set the cup down, rising from her seat in the common room and marching up the stairs to her daughter's room. Nightmares ho, she thought.

[[Basically Dem's tending to her daughter in Ironforge; I'm busy this week so I don't know just yet how much I can participate.]]
Oh, how I wish
For soothing rain
All I wish is to dream again
My loving heart
Lost in the dark
For hope I'd give my everything
Dagren sat on the floor of the tram, his head in his hands, his body glistening with sweat and caked blood covering his left arm.

His sister, she was gone. He made it though, yes. But what is he to do without his sister? It wasn't fair. He remembered it clearly. Them. They swarmed about, she was dragged to the ground. He tried to save her. No chance. No chance at all. He swore quietly to himself, and looked around at the panicked faces of the other tram passengers. Screwed. We're all screwed.

There was a jolt as the tram slowed to a stop. Dagren stood up, his muscles aching from their work in Stormwind, then the inactivity of the tram. He stepped onto the platform, and stretched his legs, sighing. This was so unfair. He was alone, he had no money (His sister held it) and no contacts. He wandered the dwarvern city slowly, looking around at the people, the varying moods. From panic to hysteria, people crying over lost ones. Dagren felt exhausted. He started searching for a place to stay...

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