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Attack on Stormwind!
#61
(It's been explained that the Mages from the Mage Quarter have risen an arcane barrier to prevent the giant monstrosity from pushing through into the Quarter. The monster has been stuck with trying to destroy the barrier with single-minded intent and that the remaining guard/army from Nethergarde Keep are valiantly fighting and dieing to keep the zombies and ghouls from breaching the Stockades Courtyard.)
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#62
Sprinkles' wand was spinning fast within her pink bowl, her eyes locked on the vile in front of her face, "If I do thith...Will Ben kill me anywayth..?" she muttered, hard in thought.

((ICly Sprinkles has been passing out her amazingly yummy muffins to the people of Stormwind, occasionally giving away a burnt blueberry muffin causing the people to become ill. She has yet to see Timil, will her efforts touch his ears?))
[Image: anigif_mobile_9893b2566588ab845c7985f71769a9f2-7.gif]
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#63
The zombie crouched over the torn body of the human female, munching and crunching like some rabid dog. The moan groaned. By the Spirits, thought Zondar, gasping audibly, she's still alive....

The orcish hunter shuddered, fear gripping him. He had fought similar foes before, this was true... But he had always witnessed the living dead on the battlefield, in masses of thousands. For Zondar, seeing this one lone zombie was nauseating. When fighting zombies en masse, it was easy to disregard them, to think of them as nothing more but another foe to be vanquished. To see just one, eating the innards of a dying innocent... That was enough to demonstrate the lack of humanity in this vile creature. While it once may have been a creature of what the Tauren called, "Earthmother," it was now nothing but a vile shell of it's former self.

Zondar notched an arrow, and made ready to fire at the beast. To put it, and it's prey, out of misery. But he thought better of it. He knew not how intelligent these walking corpses were; for all Zondar knew, a patrol of them could be on their way, and notice the distinctive orcish design of his arrow... An orc couldn't hide long in human territory.

Sighing, Zondar returned the arrow to his quiver. He said a quick prayer for this dying human. Hopefully, something waited for her spirit beyond the hellish circumstance she was in now. Zondar turned away from the macabre dinner, and slipped into the green shadows of Elwynn Forest once more.

He would make is way down the coast, to Grom'gol, and inform someone there about this invasion. Yes, mused Zondar, that woman will not die in vain. If I had not seen her being eaten, I would have disregarded her body as another victim of the Defias... Yes, it all happens for a reason.
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#64
Dressed in motley furs, Iara paces about Ironforge in anticipation of the coming battle for Stormwind. The blue-skinned Chayya had found her in the Westfall, crouching in the grass hunting for Defias, and informed Iara of the invasion of the city, and the danger posed to its citizens. Charged with keeping an eye on the visitors to Ironforge whose natures may lead them to betrayal, Iara spends much of her time slinking among the shadows cast by the Great Forge.

The road to Ironforge had been hard, moving through canals and across roofs to avoid detection by the Scourge beasts, concealing themselves as best as they could. The devastation of the city broke Iara's heart, but more disheartening was the abattoir the city streets have become. She had seen death before, but the casual discarding of bodies, the grim feasting, it cut to her soul. Her brother would have stopped, would have fought to the last at the sight.

Iara was not her brother, however. Her life wouldn't be traded for many, but if the force that Chayya promised awaited in Ironforge, an organized retaliation may be able to free the city from the grip of the dead.

The military culture, and the regiment-style the city maintains, set Iara's hackles up. She doesn't trust a military hierarchy, and the longer she remains, the more she worries this attempt at salvation will become mired in the usual quagmire that military organization seems to sink into in her experience.
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#65
Galder has eavesdropped on two Necromancers discussing their attack outside the Mage's Quarter, and is currently trudging his way towards the Arcane University to share the useful, if somewhat fragmented, information he's managed to get out of it.
Hogral Coalbeard - Impulsive Explorer
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#66
((What necromancers? You should probably read up on Alistus, to see what this is actually about, before assuming.))
[Image: desc_head_freemasons.jpg]

△Move along.△


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#67
((He´s reffering to a conversation between Alistus and Timil.))
All makt åt Tengil, vår befriare!

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#68
((Oh, then ignore me!))
[Image: desc_head_freemasons.jpg]

△Move along.△


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#69
(Moved to By Tooth and Claw)
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#70
((Just a clarification - first group wasn't defeated, we did clear the outer area of Cathedral Close before being pushed back after a last spawned group. They went to rest and recover for a second push to check on if they missed any of the undead and that's when the second group showed. Should be in the By Tooth And Claw thread))
Live your own life; you die your own death
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#71
Lethys blinks slowly, obviously looking tired after his stressful day of traveling. He rubs his eyes, looking up at the shimmering glass ceiling of the Exodar Inn.

"Hmm.." He says to himself, pulling out another book from his seemingly endless bag; "A barrier could be set up...if we can use the formulas here.."

Lethys turns the page, it showing a large, complex circle. "Hmm...It would need to be stabilized by at least 5 Mages at a time.."
Lethys turns the page again, scribbling notes in a notebook as the Draenei around him give him odd looks and mumble about his height in their native tongue.






(( The idea Lethys has is setting up a barrier of pure Arcane energy...The circle would be used to simply channel magic from the area around it, instead of from the Mage directly, which would be less efficient. However, the job of the Mage would be to keep the barrier stable, otherwise it would "burst" and act the same as a HUGE "Arcane Explosion" spell. ))

(( If needed, I can explain this in greater detail, but I didnt want to get too far ahead of myself if the GM's dont like the idea..))
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#72
((It looks fine to me, personally I´ve used either a mage/wizard channeling to the barriers or a form of mana crystal that suplies the barrier with energy after being set up. This is an interesting, and possible, more entertaining way, I´d like to see how the mage keeping the barrier up takes it.

Make sure to post an IC post and do keep us posted on the mage and his condition.))
All makt åt Tengil, vår befriare!

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#73
Galder frowned, carefully observing a lone rat in a rusty, small cage.
Most of the people he knew outside the Mage Quarter thought he did'nt have the heart to do experiments on animals. They were, of course, wrong.
After a while in the "business", all Wizards ended up treating these things as mundane and, to some degree, interesting. Only apprentices, alchemists and ordinary people had second thoughts about these things. Wizardry really gave you a new perspective on such stuff. So yes, he had tricked the rat into drinking a large amount of the poison, and was now patiently awaiting the result.

Things had, all things considered, gone well. Stormwind was ripped apart, and almost everything he had been attached to was lost. He was sure he'd feel rather sorry about it all afterwards. Still, after eavesdropping about some necromancers about their poisoning of the Canals, he'd finally gotten back where he belonged - Researching an, to the Wizards, unknown field, without any Senior Wizards hanging over his shoulders. He did'nt like to admit it, but he enjoyed that the Senior Sorcerer had let him have this important task.

While still in similar thoughts, the Rat starts to sqeak madly in the cage. It's rolling around in pain, a few hours later, it develops a foul stench, and the eyes go white. Galder notes down the results, double checks that the cage is securely locked, and fetches a new rat. Sooner or later, he ought to find out something important, he tells himself as he feeds it a spoon of the poison.
Hogral Coalbeard - Impulsive Explorer
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#74
"Aw, nether..."

Maeven was in Trade District; or what had once been the trade district. Trade didn't apply when the place was crawling with zombies. Ironforge had closed off by any mode of travel other than gryphons, and the gryphon launch in Stormwind meant going through the Trade District.

And the zombies.

"Welp, Fang," Maeven muttered to the worg at his side as he rummaged in his packs. "I know you think these taste terrible, but looks like we've some work to do."

Maeven finally found what he was looking for, and pulled out several fist sized, spiked balls of fel-metal. He'd been working for days on remembering old skills; at one time he'd been a skilled engineer.

"Guess, we'll see if these work, huh?"

Maeven grinned, and knelt down beside his worg, pointing the massive creature's muzzle in the direction of the first wall of shambling undead. He felt no fear...he didn't have time these days. Maybe he would marvel at the cure later on, but right now, he needed to get to the flight pad.

"See em? Do ye? See 'em?" The worg pulled and whined in its throat, its eyes fixed intently on the target. Maeven held the worg back for a little longer, then let her go.

"Get 'em!"

The worg shot like an arrow straight for the undead, snarling and snapping. Maeven puffed on his cheroot, lit one of the bombs and let out a shrill whistle. Fang was well trained. She broke off the attack and ran straight back to him, tongue lolling, and the undead staggering along behind.

Three...two...one.

Maeven lobbed his bomb and put a hand up to shield his face. It was quick, a loud explosion, a rather meaty sound, and when he looked up, the undead were merely smears upon the pavement. Maeven grunted, more than a little surprised; he had expected to blow them up, not - atomised. But he certainly wasn't going to complain.

"Okay girl...let's clear the road!"

(from front gate to the griff is clear. I may get the bank area today too)
Live your own life; you die your own death
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#75
(Oleander is now preparing to move "the thing" that's been under construction on out of that Southshore barn. A long-winded descriptive update shall follow soon.)
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