Blood of Arathor: Stromgarde

[Brutalskars]

Dragon's Roost

Spoiler:

Arathi, is a beautiful land.
Her fields and forests alike plenty and rich.
She is the home of all men.

"My only need is the blood in my veins. For it is the same blood that lie in all our veins. Blood of great men." - Ser Geldan Lecout



She gave birth to the knights.
Those valorous souls in steel upon valiant steed.
Great men, men of honor and strength.

"Men come and go. But great men never leave us, We always look to them for example." - Lord Caius Deleau



Here in Arathor, all kingdoms have come.
Whether in the south Azeroth, the north Alterac or in the oceans Kul'Tiras.
All crowns acknowledge their lineage, their blood.

"Kings are great, lords are admired, knights are honored; and the common folk are merely remembered. And yet I wonder, why we remember traitors' names with greater ease than the mothers and fathers of our men-at-arms." - Lord Harlond Timbanal



So is the tale of men, both anointed and common.
Which will forge the future.
With the blood of Arathor.

"Legends of heroes begin and end in the times they are most needed." - Liam Trollbane

[Brutalskars]

Legacy of Strom

Spoiler:

Five years since the shattering of the Alliance after the Second War...

The plodding of iron-shod hooves rang through the hills, and the heavy breaths of Arathorian destriers filled the air. What a joyous day, another defeat for the armies of Stromgarde. Such injuries came in the past from orcish steel, but no longer, now it was the business of the ogres they brought to Azeroth to bring death to noble men. With the death of their King, Thoras Trollbane, the nation fell into chaos. Ogres and trolls pillaging the countryside, and the noble blood of Alterac, still angered by their defeat by Arathorian steel now stalk the hills as a "Syndicate".

The battalion of men clad in red and white marched down the wet road slowly as if dragging their feet. Pride wounded and their bodies weary, some limped, others were carried. And yet some only remembered, helms and badges carried by their brothers in arms.



"There! Castle Deleau, isn't she a beauty?"

The voice of Ser Gerald Taisen carried those words and only a few sighed in relief. The ruin of Lord Deleau's home still flew the banner of Stromgarde. The men hardly seemed to make it through the gates, Caius Deleau's grave was in the center of the courtyard. His son stepped from the wreckage of the keep with his arms outstretched.

"Brothers! Thank the light so many of you come to us with breath in breast! - Tell me, what of the ogres?"

Ser Taisen sighed stepping forward to embrace the young Lord Deleau. He placed his gloved hands upon the young man's face and looked him in the eyes.

"They yet march. We may of harried them, however my heavy infantry were too fatigued to properly fight them. We were routed, and Lord Heldir was sent flying northward...

He then turned and placed a hand on another knight's shoulder. A small dragon emblem, his badge was holding his long red cloak upon him. He nodded to him once.

Ser Draconis. You are my secondary now that Ser Fletcher is being roasted for a pre-battle snack. Make sure our wounded are at least in one piece before the brutes arrive. I will handle placing our forward defenses."

Alexander merely had time to sputter before Ser Taisen pushed away and hastened to the keep, his red cloak flailing in the wind.



Miles away, the Boulderfist ogres tore at what corpses they had left to work with. Gluttons, all of them, however something more dignified stood looking over the beasts' feasting. An ogre magi, skin blue and his two heads quiet. One head was cyclopian, the other had two eyes, and had a plate of metal grafted over the back of its head. Crude metal chunks were fastened into his flesh, as if cauterized to stop fatal wounds, and his cyclopian head sneered for a moment. A forest troll stepped up from behind him, with a massive grin.

"So troll? You come to mock my warriors? If you believe you must to preserve your mouse-like pride, do so. Last I checked, upon your battles compared to my own. My 'fat useless dumb asses' seem to have won more battles."

The troll merely nodded. He seemed to nearly puke when looking over the scene below.

"An I thought my boys were bad. Damn, yo oga's make ma berserks look like elves when you eat. Watchu' gonna do though? Da humies ran off! Cowards..."

The ogre turned to his left and pointed at a hill, which nestled the ruined castle of Deleau. And he smiled, the troll simply chuckled and trotted away.