09-15-2011, 07:22 PM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
Hi thar! I'm Runo, or Andy, a 21-year-old gamer/computer technician from the east of the USA. I've been roleplaying for nearly a decade now, starting in games like Neverwinter Nights and Star Wars Galaxies and developing from there. I'm first and foremost (in terms of games) a roleplayer, so RP servers or at least communities are really important to me. I'm pretty laid-back and like to think I'm friendly, so if you need an extra body for your RP event, a capable hand for your raid, or an angry tactician for your devious PvP warfare, count me in!
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I'm a born-and-raised American citizen speaking American English. I dabble in a tiny bit of Spanish and German from schooling, but I'm not fluent in anything but English, Stupid English and the occasional Klingon when the situation calls for it.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I was actually an original player of Vanilla WoW, but I'm not quite as much of a veteran as the players who got into Warcraft from the original Blizzard strategy titles (I was '90s kid, and far too impatient to sit down and watch strange little men run around chop up green dudes with swords and axes). I knew of the Warcraft 'mythos', so to speak, because I've been gaming since I was three years old and my brother played Warcraft 1-3+ to heck and back, but I didn't really get into Warcraft (or, excluding Neverwinter Nights, heavy roleplaying on MMOs) 'til around the launch of World of Warcraft.
What made you seek our server over others? (Or how did you find us?):
You have Google to blame for the plague that is Runo (no, I'm kidding... I'm more like an annoying itch than a plague!). I was on Google, looking up priva-- uh, should I say, "less-public that let me access WoW's game services without necessarily paying for it so I can roleplay to my heart's content" servers. You're probably not surprised to hear that you were the first of any results regarding such a subject. :p
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Medium-heavy roleplay that's fun, engaging and interesting. To some, this is dramatic roleplay, but to me, it takes the right kind of drama to make it fun or engaging or... it's just an e-soap! I think roleplay is about finding the right balance of 'ingredients' to make the perfect scene, and sometimes that's a little dash of dark and moody, a side of light-hearted and humorous, or a heaping help of action. tl;dr: I enjoy all types of roleplay, basically!
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
On live, I was a huge fan of my Human/Paladin, but I may very well try to whip up something different for Conquest; with the release of worgen, I tried a Worgen Warrior and had a pretty good time up to level 20 or so, but due to real-life monetary constraints due to health issues I can't really afford to pay for WoW.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I think I showed up here before but failed to apply because I had a little falling out with WoW (the game itself, not the people or community). That aside, I don't expect anything ridiculous out of you guys; I'm just looking for a place to wiggle my RP-fingers and from what I'm seeing, this is the perfect combination of community, environment and atmosphere that I'm looking for.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Tolerance. I'm a huge advocate of tolerance IRL and on the web. I am of a firm belief that you can spend all your energy hating people for they way they were born or the way they were raised or grew up or act, or you can spend a lot less of that energy accepting the people that inhabit the earth for the same reasons you do: to live, to love, and to learn.
Lastly, tell us a story! It can be short, it can be long; but most importantly, we want to see your work in action. Go!:
It's not Warcraft-related, but it's a snippet of my ongoing Warhammer Fantasy story. I hope this is acceptable, as it's the most accurate reflection of my writing I have available; if you'd prefer, I could totally whip up a brand new story, though. Please let me know!
It was a cold day in Talabecland, at the peak of a snow-capped mountain some tens of thousands of feet overlooking an Imperial encampment encroaching to the south of the Chaos regiment’s outpost. They were getting braver – crawling closer to the edge of Raven’s Eye Outpost. Runo, now aged twenty, and his mentor Seras Ravenblade (whom he'd later take his surname from), were sent to play reconaissance for Captain Kriezgha, a ruthless Chaos Warrior blessed by Khorne and set in command of the Raven’s Eye. He didn’t know the pair, aside from hearsay about the strength and recklessness of Seras, one of the rare few females to ascend to the likelihood of a Chosen Champion of Tzeentch. “I’d reckon that mighty force would be a necessity to take you out; take that boy of yours – give ‘im a lil’ hair on ‘Is chin, yeh, Sera?”
Seras rolled her yellow, cat-like eyes and slipped her helm – marked with Tzeentch’s insignia -- up from under her right arm, clamping it down on her head and twisting a bit. Runo followed suit and snapped his substantially less-decorated, less-worn helm, and soon both of their eyes glowed brighter - fading into a blood red glower in the shade of their helms. Whereas Seras wore only a set of platemail armor with a tunic of chainmail and matching leggings, Runo was decked out in the whole deal for winter; plate and chainmail armor woven with fur from local Yeti, as well as lighter Yeti-fur boots and a cloak and hood. He slipped his hood up awkwardly over the medium-length horns of his helm, stepping onwards towards today’s trek. He could only partially daydream along the way – lost in thought.
For all that Seras had taught Runo, one note rang questionably through his mind; “Runo,” began Seras as he thought back on her teachings, her discipline (which involved fifteen-mile treks, through snow, up a mountain slope – or else Runo would face two hundred and twenty-two lashes for every mile he did NOT make it), and her words, “to preserve that which you love most, sometimes you need to let go of what you care for. Stay not the course that brings you together with your love, but the course that drives a blade through her heart.” She had an odd twitch to her features as she spoke those words, and that, Runo distinctly remembered. Seras was rare to show emotions, and Runo was often a bit perturbed would she ever display feelings. It was almost more frightening to face down an emotional Seras than an enfuriated wyvern, he’d figured.
He snapped out of his daydream, stomping through a ridiculous white oblivion consisting of five feet of snow – up to his chest, now. He stared onwards, his keen eyes noting some sort of bright flicker in the distance. Fire. “Runo…” Seras’ voice to his right. “I think I should tell you something.” She hadn’t seen the fire. “My Lady – I request silence. There is a fire up ahead… and not a natural fire.” And now, she did. “Then let us look closer, Runo.” They stepped onwards through the snow-white haze, approaching what looked to be a rather occupied campsite.
There stood six men – four heavily-armed guards, likely mercenaries hired out from small villages to protect important figures, and a Knight of the Blazing Sun that neither Runo nor Seras could recognize. One familiar face, however, was Jonavan Beckerman, a Warrior Priest of Sigmar. In their ivory-white plate armor and Runo’s marble-grey fur insulation, they were nearly invisible as they approached from behind. What surely didn’t help the unsuspecting humans was the limited visibility due to the snow storm atop the mountains and the frost-bearing winds from the nearby body of water at the base of the mountain, not far from a cliff perhaps twenty feet away. Runo glanced to Seras – and Seras to Runo – and they nodded, simultaneously snapping out a hand each.
Two soldiers’ necks were nabbed by the throats, a quick flick of the wrist snapping two mercenary necks as they were thrown into the two living guards. The superhuman levels of strength and sped from Runo and Seras’ mutations bowled over the two guardsman, who attempted to draw their swords but were only met with a swift winding. As Beckerman and the unknown Knight dived backwards from the action, Seras snapped out a polearm from a mounting off her thick plate pauldrons, the ring of swishing chainmail present as she presented one display of swift, tactile brilliance- with a single sweeping slash of her halberd, she cut through the neck of one downed guardsman and severed his head from the rest of his body gorily, splattering fresh human blood onto the still-living body of his partner. She spun the staff of the weapon until the blade faced the ground, driving it through the corpse with the broken neck and pinning the man she’d just finished off by slipping the weapon smoothly through both now-dead Imperials. She leapt forward, Beckerman stumbling back and away as Seras stepped up off the corpse and used the halberd pole as a sort of ‘spring’, flinging herself at the Knight boots-first.
Beckerman was met with brief gushing blood as she swung with the blade at the sole of her boots, slashing into the unarmored area below his chin and into his throat -- all for a deathly gorgeous crimson display as every last necessary ounce of oh-so-vital red fluid pumped out of the Knight’s wound. She’d cut so deep that his head simply tilted back and hung on by a few tendons of flesh, having sawed right through the bone with the razor blade. As the Knight’s helmet fell from his barely-still-attached head and dropped to the ground with a nosy clatter, the rest of his body dropped knees-first and awkwardly fell back onto his shoulders. Surely an embarassing death pose.
Beckerman stared at his fallen comrades, marauded and mutilated by Seras (and one done in by Runo). “…Well,” he would start as he peeled off his leather gloves and wiped away the blood on his white, armored robes, “I suppose you’ve left me no choice, laying waste to my men, and then my favors. I’ll have to call in someone that can appropriately take care of you. -- Magister Varyx? … Deal with these two.” Beckerman snapped his fingers, a bright ‘flare’ of holy light shooting out. He swivelled on his heel and stepped away, leaving the cornered pair to their apparent fate – or, rather, fates. Seras’ left hand, nearest Runo to her left side, was flexing, fingers curling inwards and outwards as Beckerman stepped into the distance. Seras could only stare past the bald-headed warrior as he disappeared into the snow drifts, though even she could barely see ten feet ahead. In his stead, a man who could only be described as Seras shortly described him, glancing to Runo, “Ugh… another one of those airheaded fire-breathing idiots from the Bright School. His hair! Look at it! He look like a fire waiting to be put out. Come, Runo! Let’s make a mess of him!” Seras charged forward, broadsword slipped out of its scabbard before Runo could even snap his out of its sheathe. She was met with a flick of the wrist from Magister Varyx, a ball of flame searing out of his fingertips and slamming into her shoulder.
Seras’ eyes widened, an expression of agony obvious but not one gasp or grunt escaping she. Her eyes focused into a look of determination – though she was met by her other shoulder being grasped by Runo, the six-and-a-half-foot Northman drawing her back out of harm’s way as a seemingly harmless flare of embers darted from the man’s fingers and soared past the pair. They retreated to the cliff nearby as the Magister repeatedly fired off these embers, each exploding in surprisingly loud and deadly ‘KABOOM!’.
Runo tugged his unusually massive kite-shield from his pauldrons, to the snowy ground, digging it like a large wall between himself and the Magister. As Runo and Seras immediately ducked to put some sort of cover between they and their dangerous opponent, there was a sound of something violently sizzling – like a fuse lit, only for the noise to grow into crackling, like burning oxygen with the obscure scent of burnt air to boot. There was an uneasy pause of silence in the entire environment, the icy winds themselves halting for a moment’s notice – only for the silence to end just as awkwardly as a roar of a what sounded and felt like a cannon went off, slamming into the shield and melting it away as though magma had coursed over the shield. Noticably, the ashes and forcibly-smelted down metals of what was once oakwood and sheer steel and iron composite alloys flowed over what was left of the then-two panels of steel, oak and leather straps, falling apart in two halved pieces and tipping over in the liquifying snow. Runo stumbled to the edge of the cliff, tugging Seras with him and boldly dragging her behind himself.
Beckerman returned in that very moment – only with a good thirty or so soldiers behind him. “Give in, heretics. You might get off easy if you surrender now and repent from your Northern ways.” Seras tried to peer over Runo’s heavy shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of the small brigade of thirty-two men strong. “Spare the boy and I’ll give you all that you want, Beckerman.” Runo blinked those red eyes, glancing behind himself. The Magister spread his hands, a slow wall of flame forming between them like some sort of deathly instrument. “Girl, you’re both HIGHLY wanted for crimes of heresy. You’ll be cleansed, and we will burn every last inch of heresy from your flesh. Accept your fate, or die here. What say you?!”
Seras tugged her helmet off and chucked it at Varyx’s face. With a mere ‘oof', he shook his head, the inferno between his spread palms growing as dangerously as his temper. Seras began defiantly, “He is MINE! He is MY boy! MY love!” – Runo almost felt himself shatter at those final two words, hands balling into fists. “And I’ll die before I let you claim anything else of mine! This… Is.. MY LAST STAND!” Seras cried as she began to bolt forward-- Runo beat her to the punch, three hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and about a quarter-ton more in armor and weapons darting forward. Seras snatched his arm, and hard, tugging him back and skidding to a halt so roughly that she actually dislocated his shoulder and arm in two places. Beckerman, Varyx and their soldiers tensed, watching. Seras tore Runo’s helmet off and grasped the cold metal in a tightly-balled up hand, eyes finally softening to reveal emotion. “Runo… I do this for you. As I always have. Your sister… Your life… It was -- ...for you. For us.”
And with that, she slung him over the cliff. Runo began to plummet a few hundred feet into the frigid watefall below, and all that he could see and hear as he began to freefall towards the icy waters was the scream of agony – Seras’ voice – and a gigantic inferno washing over the cliff, ashes blowing over the side and floating down. Runo was abruptly, softly smothered by a few sprinklings of human ash – only for the male to suddenly hit a rock, knees-first. He felt the bones in his legs shatter – “GRAAAAAH!!... DAMN your self-righteous–“ And then, he’d felt nothing as the world went black.
---------------------------------------
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Surely, but don't let me ramble or we'll be here all night! ;) I'd just like to say that I was intending on rolling my Worgen Warrior here on Conquest, and I couldn't find any rules against player worgen so I hope that that's acceptable. If not, it's not a deal breaker - I'm easy!
Hi thar! I'm Runo, or Andy, a 21-year-old gamer/computer technician from the east of the USA. I've been roleplaying for nearly a decade now, starting in games like Neverwinter Nights and Star Wars Galaxies and developing from there. I'm first and foremost (in terms of games) a roleplayer, so RP servers or at least communities are really important to me. I'm pretty laid-back and like to think I'm friendly, so if you need an extra body for your RP event, a capable hand for your raid, or an angry tactician for your devious PvP warfare, count me in!
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I'm a born-and-raised American citizen speaking American English. I dabble in a tiny bit of Spanish and German from schooling, but I'm not fluent in anything but English, Stupid English and the occasional Klingon when the situation calls for it.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I was actually an original player of Vanilla WoW, but I'm not quite as much of a veteran as the players who got into Warcraft from the original Blizzard strategy titles (I was '90s kid, and far too impatient to sit down and watch strange little men run around chop up green dudes with swords and axes). I knew of the Warcraft 'mythos', so to speak, because I've been gaming since I was three years old and my brother played Warcraft 1-3+ to heck and back, but I didn't really get into Warcraft (or, excluding Neverwinter Nights, heavy roleplaying on MMOs) 'til around the launch of World of Warcraft.
What made you seek our server over others? (Or how did you find us?):
You have Google to blame for the plague that is Runo (no, I'm kidding... I'm more like an annoying itch than a plague!). I was on Google, looking up priva-- uh, should I say, "less-public that let me access WoW's game services without necessarily paying for it so I can roleplay to my heart's content" servers. You're probably not surprised to hear that you were the first of any results regarding such a subject. :p
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Medium-heavy roleplay that's fun, engaging and interesting. To some, this is dramatic roleplay, but to me, it takes the right kind of drama to make it fun or engaging or... it's just an e-soap! I think roleplay is about finding the right balance of 'ingredients' to make the perfect scene, and sometimes that's a little dash of dark and moody, a side of light-hearted and humorous, or a heaping help of action. tl;dr: I enjoy all types of roleplay, basically!
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
On live, I was a huge fan of my Human/Paladin, but I may very well try to whip up something different for Conquest; with the release of worgen, I tried a Worgen Warrior and had a pretty good time up to level 20 or so, but due to real-life monetary constraints due to health issues I can't really afford to pay for WoW.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I think I showed up here before but failed to apply because I had a little falling out with WoW (the game itself, not the people or community). That aside, I don't expect anything ridiculous out of you guys; I'm just looking for a place to wiggle my RP-fingers and from what I'm seeing, this is the perfect combination of community, environment and atmosphere that I'm looking for.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Tolerance. I'm a huge advocate of tolerance IRL and on the web. I am of a firm belief that you can spend all your energy hating people for they way they were born or the way they were raised or grew up or act, or you can spend a lot less of that energy accepting the people that inhabit the earth for the same reasons you do: to live, to love, and to learn.
Lastly, tell us a story! It can be short, it can be long; but most importantly, we want to see your work in action. Go!:
It's not Warcraft-related, but it's a snippet of my ongoing Warhammer Fantasy story. I hope this is acceptable, as it's the most accurate reflection of my writing I have available; if you'd prefer, I could totally whip up a brand new story, though. Please let me know!
It was a cold day in Talabecland, at the peak of a snow-capped mountain some tens of thousands of feet overlooking an Imperial encampment encroaching to the south of the Chaos regiment’s outpost. They were getting braver – crawling closer to the edge of Raven’s Eye Outpost. Runo, now aged twenty, and his mentor Seras Ravenblade (whom he'd later take his surname from), were sent to play reconaissance for Captain Kriezgha, a ruthless Chaos Warrior blessed by Khorne and set in command of the Raven’s Eye. He didn’t know the pair, aside from hearsay about the strength and recklessness of Seras, one of the rare few females to ascend to the likelihood of a Chosen Champion of Tzeentch. “I’d reckon that mighty force would be a necessity to take you out; take that boy of yours – give ‘im a lil’ hair on ‘Is chin, yeh, Sera?”
Seras rolled her yellow, cat-like eyes and slipped her helm – marked with Tzeentch’s insignia -- up from under her right arm, clamping it down on her head and twisting a bit. Runo followed suit and snapped his substantially less-decorated, less-worn helm, and soon both of their eyes glowed brighter - fading into a blood red glower in the shade of their helms. Whereas Seras wore only a set of platemail armor with a tunic of chainmail and matching leggings, Runo was decked out in the whole deal for winter; plate and chainmail armor woven with fur from local Yeti, as well as lighter Yeti-fur boots and a cloak and hood. He slipped his hood up awkwardly over the medium-length horns of his helm, stepping onwards towards today’s trek. He could only partially daydream along the way – lost in thought.
For all that Seras had taught Runo, one note rang questionably through his mind; “Runo,” began Seras as he thought back on her teachings, her discipline (which involved fifteen-mile treks, through snow, up a mountain slope – or else Runo would face two hundred and twenty-two lashes for every mile he did NOT make it), and her words, “to preserve that which you love most, sometimes you need to let go of what you care for. Stay not the course that brings you together with your love, but the course that drives a blade through her heart.” She had an odd twitch to her features as she spoke those words, and that, Runo distinctly remembered. Seras was rare to show emotions, and Runo was often a bit perturbed would she ever display feelings. It was almost more frightening to face down an emotional Seras than an enfuriated wyvern, he’d figured.
He snapped out of his daydream, stomping through a ridiculous white oblivion consisting of five feet of snow – up to his chest, now. He stared onwards, his keen eyes noting some sort of bright flicker in the distance. Fire. “Runo…” Seras’ voice to his right. “I think I should tell you something.” She hadn’t seen the fire. “My Lady – I request silence. There is a fire up ahead… and not a natural fire.” And now, she did. “Then let us look closer, Runo.” They stepped onwards through the snow-white haze, approaching what looked to be a rather occupied campsite.
There stood six men – four heavily-armed guards, likely mercenaries hired out from small villages to protect important figures, and a Knight of the Blazing Sun that neither Runo nor Seras could recognize. One familiar face, however, was Jonavan Beckerman, a Warrior Priest of Sigmar. In their ivory-white plate armor and Runo’s marble-grey fur insulation, they were nearly invisible as they approached from behind. What surely didn’t help the unsuspecting humans was the limited visibility due to the snow storm atop the mountains and the frost-bearing winds from the nearby body of water at the base of the mountain, not far from a cliff perhaps twenty feet away. Runo glanced to Seras – and Seras to Runo – and they nodded, simultaneously snapping out a hand each.
Two soldiers’ necks were nabbed by the throats, a quick flick of the wrist snapping two mercenary necks as they were thrown into the two living guards. The superhuman levels of strength and sped from Runo and Seras’ mutations bowled over the two guardsman, who attempted to draw their swords but were only met with a swift winding. As Beckerman and the unknown Knight dived backwards from the action, Seras snapped out a polearm from a mounting off her thick plate pauldrons, the ring of swishing chainmail present as she presented one display of swift, tactile brilliance- with a single sweeping slash of her halberd, she cut through the neck of one downed guardsman and severed his head from the rest of his body gorily, splattering fresh human blood onto the still-living body of his partner. She spun the staff of the weapon until the blade faced the ground, driving it through the corpse with the broken neck and pinning the man she’d just finished off by slipping the weapon smoothly through both now-dead Imperials. She leapt forward, Beckerman stumbling back and away as Seras stepped up off the corpse and used the halberd pole as a sort of ‘spring’, flinging herself at the Knight boots-first.
Beckerman was met with brief gushing blood as she swung with the blade at the sole of her boots, slashing into the unarmored area below his chin and into his throat -- all for a deathly gorgeous crimson display as every last necessary ounce of oh-so-vital red fluid pumped out of the Knight’s wound. She’d cut so deep that his head simply tilted back and hung on by a few tendons of flesh, having sawed right through the bone with the razor blade. As the Knight’s helmet fell from his barely-still-attached head and dropped to the ground with a nosy clatter, the rest of his body dropped knees-first and awkwardly fell back onto his shoulders. Surely an embarassing death pose.
Beckerman stared at his fallen comrades, marauded and mutilated by Seras (and one done in by Runo). “…Well,” he would start as he peeled off his leather gloves and wiped away the blood on his white, armored robes, “I suppose you’ve left me no choice, laying waste to my men, and then my favors. I’ll have to call in someone that can appropriately take care of you. -- Magister Varyx? … Deal with these two.” Beckerman snapped his fingers, a bright ‘flare’ of holy light shooting out. He swivelled on his heel and stepped away, leaving the cornered pair to their apparent fate – or, rather, fates. Seras’ left hand, nearest Runo to her left side, was flexing, fingers curling inwards and outwards as Beckerman stepped into the distance. Seras could only stare past the bald-headed warrior as he disappeared into the snow drifts, though even she could barely see ten feet ahead. In his stead, a man who could only be described as Seras shortly described him, glancing to Runo, “Ugh… another one of those airheaded fire-breathing idiots from the Bright School. His hair! Look at it! He look like a fire waiting to be put out. Come, Runo! Let’s make a mess of him!” Seras charged forward, broadsword slipped out of its scabbard before Runo could even snap his out of its sheathe. She was met with a flick of the wrist from Magister Varyx, a ball of flame searing out of his fingertips and slamming into her shoulder.
Seras’ eyes widened, an expression of agony obvious but not one gasp or grunt escaping she. Her eyes focused into a look of determination – though she was met by her other shoulder being grasped by Runo, the six-and-a-half-foot Northman drawing her back out of harm’s way as a seemingly harmless flare of embers darted from the man’s fingers and soared past the pair. They retreated to the cliff nearby as the Magister repeatedly fired off these embers, each exploding in surprisingly loud and deadly ‘KABOOM!’.
Runo tugged his unusually massive kite-shield from his pauldrons, to the snowy ground, digging it like a large wall between himself and the Magister. As Runo and Seras immediately ducked to put some sort of cover between they and their dangerous opponent, there was a sound of something violently sizzling – like a fuse lit, only for the noise to grow into crackling, like burning oxygen with the obscure scent of burnt air to boot. There was an uneasy pause of silence in the entire environment, the icy winds themselves halting for a moment’s notice – only for the silence to end just as awkwardly as a roar of a what sounded and felt like a cannon went off, slamming into the shield and melting it away as though magma had coursed over the shield. Noticably, the ashes and forcibly-smelted down metals of what was once oakwood and sheer steel and iron composite alloys flowed over what was left of the then-two panels of steel, oak and leather straps, falling apart in two halved pieces and tipping over in the liquifying snow. Runo stumbled to the edge of the cliff, tugging Seras with him and boldly dragging her behind himself.
Beckerman returned in that very moment – only with a good thirty or so soldiers behind him. “Give in, heretics. You might get off easy if you surrender now and repent from your Northern ways.” Seras tried to peer over Runo’s heavy shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of the small brigade of thirty-two men strong. “Spare the boy and I’ll give you all that you want, Beckerman.” Runo blinked those red eyes, glancing behind himself. The Magister spread his hands, a slow wall of flame forming between them like some sort of deathly instrument. “Girl, you’re both HIGHLY wanted for crimes of heresy. You’ll be cleansed, and we will burn every last inch of heresy from your flesh. Accept your fate, or die here. What say you?!”
Seras tugged her helmet off and chucked it at Varyx’s face. With a mere ‘oof', he shook his head, the inferno between his spread palms growing as dangerously as his temper. Seras began defiantly, “He is MINE! He is MY boy! MY love!” – Runo almost felt himself shatter at those final two words, hands balling into fists. “And I’ll die before I let you claim anything else of mine! This… Is.. MY LAST STAND!” Seras cried as she began to bolt forward-- Runo beat her to the punch, three hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and about a quarter-ton more in armor and weapons darting forward. Seras snatched his arm, and hard, tugging him back and skidding to a halt so roughly that she actually dislocated his shoulder and arm in two places. Beckerman, Varyx and their soldiers tensed, watching. Seras tore Runo’s helmet off and grasped the cold metal in a tightly-balled up hand, eyes finally softening to reveal emotion. “Runo… I do this for you. As I always have. Your sister… Your life… It was -- ...for you. For us.”
And with that, she slung him over the cliff. Runo began to plummet a few hundred feet into the frigid watefall below, and all that he could see and hear as he began to freefall towards the icy waters was the scream of agony – Seras’ voice – and a gigantic inferno washing over the cliff, ashes blowing over the side and floating down. Runo was abruptly, softly smothered by a few sprinklings of human ash – only for the male to suddenly hit a rock, knees-first. He felt the bones in his legs shatter – “GRAAAAAH!!... DAMN your self-righteous–“ And then, he’d felt nothing as the world went black.
---------------------------------------
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Surely, but don't let me ramble or we'll be here all night! ;) I'd just like to say that I was intending on rolling my Worgen Warrior here on Conquest, and I couldn't find any rules against player worgen so I hope that that's acceptable. If not, it's not a deal breaker - I'm easy!
