((This transpired last night, the evening of 9th June. Enjoy!))
It was a gloomy night, like any other, at the Ruins of Lordaeron. Upon the wrecked stairs stood gathered, the House of Sylvanas. More in the back, one could discern two members of the Windrunner Deathguard, and their commander, Captain Othragon Rotarm. The gathering was silent, for Lord Archnazg Magnark, governor of the Undercity, had blessed the House with his presence. In fact, he had something to do for his House. The Lady’s House.
“House. Mount your horses.” He said in his chilly, rasping voice. He then turned to the three members of the Triumvirate, Arsath, Daidrax, and Raszanath, those who lead under him.
“We ride to recover the artefact I have informed you of. We ride in formation.”
The House immediately grouped up in a neat double-line, lead by the Lord, and his Triumvirate behind him. A short journey later, including a zeppelin and a boat, the small army found themselves in Ratchet.
“You have fifteen minutes to buy refreshments. We head for the jungle today. Report back here in fifteen minutes.” Archnazg spoke. Some of the more undisciplined Neophytes rolled their eyes at the repetition, but most silently went, no questions asked.
The usual attendants of the Broken Keel were surprised to see such a gathering of Forsaken, and some Sin’Dorei. Some watched in awe, others frowned, and even more were totally caught off guard, having no clue whatsoever of what was going on. The banner of the Lady was shortly raised, before the company formed up again, and rode south, to the Great Lift, and then west, into Feralas.
Deep in the wild Jungle, past camp Mojache, the Lord spoke again to his Triumvirate. There was a slight murmuring in the back of the formation, most of the Neophytes were wondering what was going on, and more specifically, where they were going. The front, however, was dead silent.
“Soon we will come across a side-path marked by torches. It leads to a small dock upon which the boat to a small elven settlement moors. We will decimate this settlement, and recover what they stole from us. Lord Arsath, you will command the attack. I will retrieve the Artefact together with my Royal Deathstalker.”
Arsath nodded, frowned shortly, then took a deep breath, his deep voice shouting his commands through the dense jungle. The Neophytes who were murmuring behind quickly looked up.
“Members of the Lady’s Royal House, soldiers of Sylvanas! The Lord has spoken. We are to assault and decimate the small Kal’Dorei village that lies just off the shore. I will command this attack. We move as one group, and on my command. Melee at the front, Archers and Casters behind. No building will be entered without my say-so. As soon as the boat moors, we will charge. Understood?”
Arsath waited for a few moments, then continued:
“Very well. We will decimate these elves, for Sylvanas!”
Archnazg nodded appreciatively, and then held a short, rallying speech of his own, with a similar ire. The dock, however, was drawing near, and the ship was already approaching.
“Captain Othragon, you and your men will capture that ship. Leave any necessary crew alive, we need them to sail us to the island.”
Captain Othragon and his men charged at ship, uttering triumphant cries in the Lady’s name. Soon, the few mariners lay dead, and three navigators were driven into a corner, standing defiantly at the Forsaken, taunting them. A quick mind control spell from Grand Apothecary Raszanath later, however, all had changed, and the ship smoothly sailed away from the dock.
Meanwhile, Arsath formed the men into a charging line at the mooring side, and took place in the middle of it. It was an impressive sight, the wall of dark, plated figures, with Arsath sticking out of it, like a tower amidst the ramparts.
The unsuspecting town was in sight, and the small army charged the moment the ship docked. The unaware sentinels were quickly overcome, some even killed before they had noticed anything, pierced by one of Dark Ranger Daidrax’s deadly arrows. The battle was a short and uneventful one: a complete slaughter. Soon, no Kal’Dorei was alive amongst the houses, or so it seemed. The men had gathered on the courtyard, now waiting for Archnazg to return with the artefact. Their job was done.
Soon, Archnazg did indeed return with the artefact, a dark and pulsating orb. He seemed not done with the elves, however. He beckoned lady Raszanath and four Death Knights to follow him, and quickly murmured some instructions to them, while the rest, unaware of the Lord’s exact intentions, formed a protective circle around the small group.
It soon became clear: Raszanath was channelling energy into Archnazg, while he himself seemed to use the Orb in some kind of curse. The Death Knights had opened portals through which decay and rot spilled onto the elven lands.
Immediately, Night Elves spilled from every shadowy corner from the village: They would not let their land be corrupted! It was futile, however. Most of them were peasants, workmen. They were quickly mowed down by the defenders.
Soon, it had been done. The curse had been laid upon the land, and Lord Archnazg had set an example.
None can steal from Sylvanas and get away with it.
Subject: [RP] The house of Sylvanas's reclamation - By Arsath 
