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Maestra's Vengeance
[Image: NouraVsOrc2.jpg]

The time for peace has passed. A temporary truce forged following the fall of Arthas has crumbled into the ashes of the Alliance and Horde Warmachines. With Thrall's departure from the throne of Warchief a true monger has taken his place, Garrosh Hellscream. To rival him the human King Varian stands by his prejudiced views of the Horde which brings the whole of both factions all the closer to self-destructive war.

The movements so far have been small in the grand scheme of things, yet even still the night Elves of the Alliance find themselves quickly losing ground to the reinforced Warsong Clan. While the Ancients press a fight against Splintertree Post the Warsong forces occupy the Silverwind Refuge. If that did not bear bad enough news, the forward post of Hellscream's Watch forced a wide enough gap that allowed them to tear down Maestra's post.

With Astranaar surrounded on all sides by Garrosh's Horde the Night Elves find themselves forced to make a choice: Risk life, limb and spirit against the encroaching Horde or abandon the sacred forest of Ashenvale in favor of safter ground.

This choice has been a difficult one for many. Morale has fallen to a low that has not been seen in centuries, bringing even a race of ancients to it's possible defeat. Amongst it all, however, a great many fight. Day in and day out sentinels of all callings stand vigilant to defend their people, to rise where others have fallen and crawled away.

The question now remains: Will you stand with the vigilant, or flee with the children?

  • Setting Things Straight
    As rumors of an offensive pass through the town the people plan to gather for a brief ceremony led by of Elune's Priesthood. As a people they will come together to pass their blessings on to those who have perished or are currently lost due to the earth-shattering cataclysm.

    Many friendly faces met together in the Astranaar inn an hour prior to the ritual, sharing drinks and mirth all alike. In unison they ventured forth from the tavern, falling in line with many other mourners that were to attend the ceremony. The ritual site itself was beyond Astranaar's walls, guided by two of Elune's Priesthood. Just as the services was dedicated to those lost and passed an ear-splitting screech tore the silence apart, followed soon after by the blazes of explosions. In the blink of an eye the serenity was broken, assaulted by the hands of an orcish raiding party. With the combined forces of the Ashwatch Vigil along with Astranaar's military leaders the orcs were quickly dispatched, however not all was as it seemed. While the combatants were occupied firebombers ran through Astranaar, setting many of the town's defenses ablaze.

    A council of the town's military minds is set to meet in the morn. From there the fate of this struggle will be decided.

  • Backing Up Big Baobob
    The Ancients of immense power lay to the West, their attention set upon the ever-present struggle against the demonic legion. If the people of Astranaar wish the harness the potential of the forest themselves then they're going to need to lend a hand in dismissing the demonic forces.
  • The Laughing Dens
    With the Ancients lined in beside the Night Elves, the Astranaar Offensive turns it's gaze to the next of their natural allies: The Laughing Sisters. While they do not conjure the same raw power, the magics and martial skill of the sisters are bound to make irreplaceable foot soldiers.
  • Bear Necessities - Sunday, June 9th, 1:00PM*
    A break spanning two weeks had taken over the Astranaar Offensive as they planned their next course of action. The Furbolg that have existed in northern Ashenvale find themselves threatened day in and day out by the encroaching Orcish Horde. With the proper politics the elves of Astranaar may just be able to get them to turn on the greenskins.
  • "Come forth, you defenders of Old!" - Saturday, June 15th, 4:00PM*
    From every corner of the vale the elves of Astranaar have spread their influence with the aid of their Alliance relations and the ancients of the woods have responded. From the Ancients of War to the wicked Laughing sisters, and the vicious furbolg in-between have all raised their blades in honor to an ancient pact under the horned banner of Malorne. Now it is time to enact Maestra's Vengeance!

*- All times are in accord with Server Time
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  • Zhaei, Ural, Delta, Edgar, Stealthscout, aroes, c0rzilla, CappnRob, Piken, Mathias, Caravan, Rowgen
Sounds like something Soae would have enjoyed. Unfortunately I work days. Have fun! :)
Since it seems that I forgot that everyone actually has work or school to take care of the time has been changed to something more accommodating.
Aww, that counts me out. Have fun nonetheless!
Oooh, now I can come. Excellent. Thanks, Kril.
Dang it! Can't make it that later either.
(02-24-2012, 10:15 AM)Piroska Wrote: Conspiracy. That's all it is; Kret's afraid that your pure, digital awesomeness would crash the server if it were allowed.
(06-14-2013, 05:42 PM)McKnighter Wrote: Bovel, Lord of Beards

Character About Involvement
Causticity Blackbreath Goblin Alchemist -
Telaah Draenei Anchorite Writings of an Anchorite

[Image: kiXJxhI.gif]
3 am for an event.... Oh my
1 AM event? I -might- be able to attend. If only I had the earlier shift at work!
"I am more afraid of one hundred sheep led by a lion than one hundred lions led by a sheep."
Yay!! I can go!
[Image: btCv6mF.png]
Inspired by Aroes to make fancy parchment letters. :heart:
Lendri Autumn Sylvian
Alassae Starleaf
Lazarus Majire
Josephine Renae Briarthorn
Flames grew high into the night as the orcish forces flew high over Astranaar. With most of the town’s militia outside it’s own gates for a ceremony the Horde took it’s chance, weakening Astranaar’s defenses with an assault of incendiary bombs. Returning from the ruined rituals the elves found their weapons and homes aflame. In one foul swoop The Horde dealt a vicious blow to the elves, and they no longer care to sit idle.

Now the morning after, the military minds gather within the central lodge to plan their retaliation against the Orcish Offensive


The warm glow of twilight hangs over the glades of Ashenvale, the sky not yet wholly illuminated by the warmth of the sun. Despite the sleepy scene the town of Astranaar is very much alive, it’s every nook and cranny watched over by ever-vigilant sentinels. While the commoners and non-combatants huddle in their homes along with their families the militant were hard at work. A trio of figures moves through the city with an escort of sentinels surrounding them on each side. First to enter the grand lodge is the Priestess Maestra, followed soon by her druidic advisor Orendil Broadleaf. Both are known for the outpost along the road that was now a hot topic of controversy given the orcish movements. The third figure towered over the other two as every part of her stature reeked with military prowess. Lieutenant-Commander Beliria Ironraven was once a woman of the battlefield but has since retired for a mated life. Even still her mind was crafted for thousands of years for the pursuit of victory, and that in it was something of value in this meeting. A fourth and final member, The Warden Anthrion, trailed behind the escort, now caught up as they come to surround the map-laden table.

For some time the council simply stands around, their eyes set upon the variety of reports, maps, and other information that had been gathered for the meeting on the prior nights. Silverwing retaliations, Warsong headcounts, Hellscream’s war fleet, druidic den locations. Every scrap of information that could aid them in the conflict was present. Out of all four, the druid Orendil is the first to break the silence.

"This is not a time for idle hands. What information do we have on yester night’s events?"

All the while Maestra and Beliria both stand, the priestess hunched somewhat over tomes of information as the commander stares about the group with a vicious fever.

"Ten dead by the explosion alone, one of my own priestesses amongst them. The gravesite is in ruins, most of the graves upturned." Quips Maestra, her voice somewhat haggard.

"And the townspeople?" Inquires the young warden. "They're likely to be frantic by now. Orcs are brooding over us and we just learned that they happen to have no respect for the dead, let alone anything else."

”This is unusual, even for those savages.” Beliria rubs a gloved hand lightly over her mouth and gestured to one of the documents, ”New graves are being dug, the desecrated reblessed and laid to rest. I sent two riders after the bombers – I am awaiting their return.”

"I'm not all too shocked by the orc's actions." Replies Maestra, her demeanor a bit cold. "Abhorred, but not surprised."

"What do you imagine we could do about it, however?" Mumbles Orendil, words coming much slower compared to the others who are quick to act.

”We will not be responding in kind.” It was not an order, nor was it a suggestion– it simply was the way it would be. The woman's tone was one of finality on the subject, but she did offer a follow–up, ”Not in kind, but with force. They've disabled our throwers. We will destroy their siege engines, their camps, their supply chains.”

While the elders mused amongst themselves the young warden cleared his throat, taking a few notes and scrolls from his pack. "I do have a plan, actually.... If the council will hear me on this."

Maestra and Orendil both regard the young warden with a skeptical gaze, their expression clearly distrustful of such youth sitting upon a council of war. However silence is still spared for the boy to speak. His cue comes as Beliria raises her voice, the only sign of her listening to his words. “Anthrion.”

"In many wars passed we've called for the aid of our natural allies- The Ancients, the dryads, the Furbolg... I feel if that we can appeal to these natural forces for aid then perhaps they will hear us out. The Ancients have been plagued by demons, the Furbolg by orcs, and the dryads by orcs as well."

”And how, precisely, do you intend on that? The Ancients and the Dryad are already with us.”

"They are with us, but they are currently occupied. If we can find reasons for them to rally with us- free them from what stresses may be holding them down- then they may just join us in the war efforts."

Maestra breaks her silence with a doubtful question. "And how exactly -would- we help them when we can barely defend our own holding?"

"I have my own force, one removed from any official military roster. We, along with any potential recruits from the Alliance, may just be able to manage this."

"A child and his friends." Snorts Orendil.

”Orendil.” Beliria’s jaw is tight and she glances up at the druid, one solitary shake of her head accompanying the name.

"While he may be uncouth Orendil does bring up a point. The Warden's forces are... petite at their best. While wonderful for cleaning up stray orcs, demons or whatever have you they're not exactly a full military regiment. They lack the training and- please excuse me- the leadership of a developed military mind."

Maestra's words take a lighter tone this time around, her attention growing more and more into the conversation.

"But at its root it is a possibility..." She looks between Beliria and Orendil. "Thoughts?"

”No one more than I would acknowledge how fundamentally unideal the Wardens 'force' is, but unless you've an unused squad tucked under this table that–” she gestures callously to Anthrion with one hand, ”–is a decent option.”

With the somewhat backhanded compliment from his mother the Warden perks up, covering what ground is left to push his point. "My forces does not necessarily need to be the one to act as Astranaar's vengeance, but I offer never the less because I know we are a number of blades that are otherwise unaccounted for. However I recognize your issues wholeheartedly and in place of my... apparent incompetence I make a suggestion. Why don't we name an official force whose leader could be respected? My vigilants can rank in with the general force."

As always the druid is late with his reply. "And who do you think would be left to lead this force? You know how everything goes about. If one is not picked the rest bicker. So on and so forth."

As if expecting the doubt his hand makes a broad gesture towards Beliria. "With due respect Priestess Maestra, Orendil, neither of you have the military record to compare to the Lieutenant-Commander."

"And to her would go the glory." Muses the druid, more to himself than anything.

”Do you think I need the glory, Orendil?” Beliria's gloved hand curled into a fist against the table and she stared down the druid at the other end of the table unflinchingly.

Maestra looks to the druid with a chiding glare, needing no words to quiet the man. Soon after sigh stems from her lips as she looks back to Anthrion. "So let us assume we gather the aid of our allies... what then?"

The warden practically seems to be all smile at that. "So glad you've asked." Along one of the many maps he drew out from the pack would be one specifically for Maestra's Post. "We retaliate and regain control of our one supply line. I've gone ahead and scouted the location myself. The forces of Astranaar will charge first from along the road, creating the first front for the orcs to address. With that acting as a distraction we have the Furbolg spearmen come from the hills and create a second front. That will leave enough for however ancients we manage to gather to rush in from the woods near the Zoram'gar strand. They can burst in and easily dismantle and of the siege the Horde still have laying about the camps. Last by not least as the orcs call retreat, the laughing sisters will be laying in wait in the woods to cut down any stragglers."

Beliria’s eyes don’t leave the druid as Anthrion continues with his proposal. When he closes, she says simply, ”Considerable.”

There will be time to devise a full military strategy once we gather confirmation from our allies that they will march to war with us."

"Going back a moment." Quips Maestra. "The force you mentioned... A full force led by Beliria." She pauses for a moment to affirm her own thoughts. She regards the Lieutenant Commander with a raised brow. "Would you accept the position?"

”I do not have the time or the patience to chaperone I –do– have other duties.” She frowns slightly at her son, ”I accept the task of overseeing his mission but I will not directly lead them on the field – that I will give to the Warden to handle. Should he falter, I will reprimand him personally. Does this suffice?”

"I think it will. His is young, but a Warden is nothing to be spat upon."

Once again Orendil seems to think otherwise, but this time his words are kept more to himself.

As for the Warden himself, the man simply bows. "Thank you for the consideration. I'm certain that I will not lead our forces astray."

”You –will– not lead our forces astray,” Beliria none–too–gently corrects.

Anthrion nods ever so slightly at his mother's correction, only growing quieter from there.

"Very well, our decisions have been made it seems... From here on, Beliria, you'll be the one to call the shots. I do, however, expect for Orendil and myself to be updated consistently as to the progress here. We do not need our plans to shift unannounced."

”I have never failed to issue a report, Maestra. I do not intend to start now.”

By this hour the morning lights begin to flicker into the lodge, illuminating the peninsula within the lodge that the four stood upon. Maestra, never resting during the meeting, seems to finally move to make her retreat. "Then I await the first report with childish glee." She retort with a smirk. "Orendil and I should be off to tend to the town."

On cue the druid stands, bowing to the two before making his way away without a comment. All that is left is the mother, her son, and a war to plot.


The Warden turns from the two departing figures, regarding the commander with a nod. "Beliria."

Belira bent slightly to retrieve her slightly ornate helmet from her chair. ”Do not disappoint me.”

"I will not... however a quick question, which force should I appeal to first? Ancients to the West, Furbolg to the North, or the Sisters to the East?"

”Start with the Ancients, then the Sisters. When you've secured them, then see to the Furlbog.”

Once again the Warden bows. "Very well mother."

”Go get some rest. You likely will not be receiving any soon.”

With a stiff salute the man regards his mother. "Of course, until we meet again." With that he gathers a number of his maps and scrolls, stuffing them back into his messenger bag before departing.
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His mouth felt completely dry and his hands and feet burned. He winced his eyes open, shuddering some, his body exhausted even after the hours of rest. Curled up fetal nearby, the other more formerly-bombastic Gilnean slept without rest. He looked for anyone with wrapped eyes or in Warden armor. Adam's voice was weak and sickly, his memory all a blur.

"Did we ... make it? ...All of us?"
[Image: Boys.jpg]
Sorry I've been a bit slow to update recently. Family has kept me occupied for the recent days and will continue to make me busy for some time. However I hope to keep these events going! Next one is up on this Sunday at 1:00PM Server Time.
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Now this one I can attend with ease!
"I am more afraid of one hundred sheep led by a lion than one hundred lions led by a sheep."
Soae will be there!
With my family business more or less taken care of for the time being, I am able to turn my attention back towards the task at hand- the Defense of Ashenvale! The next event- Bear Necessities -will take place this Sunday at 1:00PM Server Time. Hope you all can make it!
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