[RP] Forsaken? - By Archnazg

((copied from: http://forums.wow-europe.com/thread.html?topicId=12025165440&sid=1 - Vyp))

A lord of death and darkness sits at his ornate oak desk of death.

"Still, we have failed. When will it come? Will it come? Are we cursed forever? TELL ME! TELL ME!"

The old shadowpriest stamps his fists at his desk uncrontrotably. He looks around, eyes of hatred and hunger.

"WILL WE HAVE TO TAKE IT ALL!?"

He grasps his wine glass, looking around, extreme with caution. His eyes a mixture of fear and anger. he lowers his gaze to the works of surounding servants.

He hides his face in his palms in the darkness of his study.

"What will come forth?" Glancing around.

He consumes an idea.

"And so it shall."

He trials off in endless thoughts.

[ Post edited by Archnazg ]

((reply by Othragon ))

In the flying Necropolis of Zeramas:Windrunner Hold, three shackled Forsaken are seen waiting for trial. One of them, a plated armor warrior wanders off into the limits of his confinement. restless.

Thoughs haunt his used to servitude mind, in a desperate spiral of confusion and resolutions.

"Blasphemy...

three of the most loyal men the Royal House has ever had, accused of treachery by the real traitor...

i shall go down in a blaze for my allegiance if i have to, and protect her Majesty until the very end...

executed i might be, but...

I shall have the traitor's head before the end... "

The self-proclaimed Prince of Fornicatio Mortis strolled through the vaulted archways of Undercity. His once gleaming armor were now a sad display of disrepair and it was smudged by dirt and grease. He was chewing on his lower lip, slightly annoyed at just being called a rotting bonebag by the orcish guards that had become such a delightful addition to the city of the dead, when he overheard the quiet conversation of two Forsaken.

At first he paid it no mind at all, quiet conversations among Forsaken were a common thing and it was usually followed by a carefully rehearsed "Muhah hah hah MUUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
But this conversation was broken by a dry giggle. Quintilius halted, his attention immidiately vivified.
Had he heard a giggle? Oh, he just knew that whatever made your average Forsaken giggle like that must be something of interest.

He slid closer to the couple as stealthily as he could manage. Which wasn't all that stealthy to be honest. The sound of shuffling feet and metal grinding against metal made the snigering Forsaken stop their conversation and they both looked at Quintilius, who responded with a sheepish grin.

They knew who he was, ofcourse, Quintilius was infamous for his achieviements in the underworld. For one he was rumored to once having graced Sylvanas' breasts, or at least some side-boob, and had lived to tell the tale. His tongue must be a silvery one indeed, or perhaps it was the limber and athletic properties of his tongue that had saved him in that particular instance.

Anyways, they stared at him and showed no intention of sharing their secret words with him, so he gave them a curt nod and went on with his stroll. He chewed his lips, annoyed. What the hell was going on? What could cause such giggle among the living dead? He was perplexed indeed.

((Seriously though, what is this about?))

(( to this day i will never forget that moment... Sylvanas lies dead, slain by alliance and suddently, on emote chat color pops this:

Quintilius discretely squeezes Sylvanas' left boob.

I was scarred for life. ))

Othragon wrote:

(( to this day i will never forget that moment... Sylvanas lies dead, slain by alliance and suddently, on emote chat color pops this:

Quintilius discretely squeezes Sylvanas' left boob.

I was scarred for life. ))

I -d.