Conquest of the Horde

Full Version: Vacation? Nope. Death. (RC)
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The following contains some profane language and excessive amounts of Irish. Viewer discretion is advised.

Just what Gregg Anders needed in his life. As if he didn't already have enough problems. Now he had to deal with this too...

It had started out so well, and indeed, it looked like just the thing needed to put some fire in his and his fiance's, Saiyuu Graviels, relationship, which had been waning over the past couple of weeks due to Gregg being a general screw up. Not important. The point was that it was a good idea. He took her to his home to meet the folks, folks who he had not seen for many years, since before the War in the North with the Scourge. They took him, and her, in and back in with open arms, and Gregg got to show Saiyuu farm life and the life he led before he signed up to be a brawler, not that he wasn't in the pubs on bad days. It was a simple life, and it was refreshing to get back to it.

But that was part one of a two part plan, and the second part is when it goes all to shit.

Started out fine. They bid his folks adieu (After much sadness. Little Abigail was particularly keen on tying Gregg up and keeping him forever.) and set off to the Gryphon Roost to fly to Tanaris where Gregg intended to rent a beach house and have a few nights of romance. They got there very late, and rather than have a romantic dinner by the sea they plopped down and went to sleep.

The next day began with a romantic BREAKFAST by the sea, at least. That's always a plus. Then they changed into beach clothes and were literally just about to jump into the water, frolic, and do genuinely fun things.

But then... she came. That b***h of a demoness, Sangreala. Absolute. Utter. Brasser. Yes, there she was, strutting like she owned everything in the world while some fucking ass kisser Orc toted behind her, holding its axe as though it were a child or something sacred, like any brute does.

She had come for his head, and they hadn't the strength to resist the two. Oh, they tried. Gregg was, however, quickly forced to the ground. And as he rose, exhausted, Sangreala prepared a bolt of deadly green fire... but not for him. She threw it at Saiyuu. An unearthly strength filled his limbs, the last of it. He wanted to make good use of it, and thus leaped in the way of the bolt, it hitting him squarely in the chest.

Warm blood spattered onto his face and out his mouth, but he felt cold. So very, very cold. The two, Demoness and Orc, loomed over him, blocking out the sunlight with their cold umbrage. And then he departed.

Back in this damned void. Everything was dark and cold here. Oh yes, he's been here before. Only once, and he rather wished not to have had to come back. But that was life, and the loss of it went to a good cause, AKA the continuation of his love's own life. Plus, they wouldn't let him stay here, would they? They would bring him back.


Right. Kind of. Life filled his muscles and he came to, gasping for breath as one always does when suddenly suffused with it. But it wasn't Saiyuu standing over him. Nor was it Matthew. Nor was it his family. Instead, a bald, arrogant looking fellow checked his vitals and patted him on the chest.

Gregg spoke, which definitively marked him as alive. "Th'feck are ye?"

The man look affronted. "I'm the man responsible for bringing you back."

"Tha's nice, where are th'people tha' are serposed ter?"

Killer: Sangreala and Garm
Ressurector: Stormwind NPC

Short Term Effects:

-Extreme neck sores, to the point where his neck must remain rigid to keep from being pained.
-Coughing fits of blood if he overexerts himself.
-Lowered tolerance for alcohol.

Long Term Effects:

-Increased irritability.
-Inability to walks or stand for extended periods without a cane, as the gimp he received from his previous brush with death has strengthened.
-Tires out easier.


-Extreme hate for all things fel.