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Old 12-16-2003, 07:02 AM   #1
Join Date: Sep 2003
Posts: 95

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Reign of Darkness
Chapter 1

As slowly the tall grass swayed with the wind, rain clouds filled the sky waiting to drop their loads. Two fierce warriors, one human, the other orchish, swung at each other with their weapons of choice. All was silent except for the rustling of grass and an occasional clang of weapons and shields.

The once perfect world, filled with peace, harmony and controlled by the humans, was now scarred with this new strong race, mostly combined of half breeds or mongrels. The large stature of these beastly figures was enough to scare any decent noble 500 yards away, but the newly trained forces of the humans were now instructed not to be afraid.

Although the human soldiers were half the size of the gargantuan orchish warriors, they could make up for that in the sword or mace. Even if one of the human soldiers did get hit it would take a lot more than just brute fore to split their extra duty tough armour. Plus the quick footing of the soldiers could easily out-manoeuvre any brainless clumsy beast and could easily claim the leg of one.

So the battle raged on it seemed like it was heading no where, when a quick swipe of the swordsman slit a cut through the beast's hairy chest and made it withdraw immediately. It let out a moan of pain and agony before regaining its calm spirit.

“Feeble human, you were lucky to get a speck of blood from my body, but beware my temper does not take that lightly,� quickly drawing out a jagged sword from his belt, while discarding the dagger in his hand.

The orc warrior advanced on the nervous human waiting for the right moment to strike. Cold grimy sweat trickled down the soldier's forehead, his eyes never straying from his enemy. All he needed to do was to muster enough strength to give one last blow to the calves and then he would be on the home straight. He realised the beast was waiting to attack, so the soldier prepared to attack.

Just when the swordsman was about to strike, a drop of sweat dribbled into his eyes blinding him with stinging agony. Here the orc realised his tension and didn't waste a moment in heaving up his blade and shoving it forcefully between the eye-slit of the swordsman's helmet. The once proud human soldier was now no more than a mere head on stick, symbolising the supreme victory of the Blackrock Clan .
The clouds eventually gave into the rain spirits and lush cool water droplets flittered from the clouds just in time to hear the first lightning crack. It was mid afternoon in the king's royal court and it didn't look like he would be getting a rest anytime soon.

“May I suggest sire, that we should throw a full out assault into their orchish base camps,� suggested one of the kings northern advisors.

“No, no, no I will not be responsible for a suicide mission. Leading our soldier's right into their base would be an ambush waiting to happen and I do not want to be left with the dying soldiers resting in my arms,� the king snapped back at the advisor.

“Then maybe we should send a ranger to spy on the activities of these beastly warriors,� proposed a man entering the room.

“Ahh, my fine young son, always having an appropriate answer for the most difficult of problems,� complemented the king. “Anyway what business brings you to our court room on a miserable day like this?�

“Father, it may be hard to believe but there is one commander missing from the barracks on the west side of the Capital City. His room mates said that he had the weekend off and was going up to his parents place on the farming estate near Lordmere Lake ,� the young prince informed.

“But that is where one of the major blackrock encampments is located,� the king remembered.

“His friends think he should have made it home by now as they have been to that area of Lorderon before,� the prince added in. After a period of quiet thinking, the king eventually came back to reality and expressed his answer.

“What was this commander's name, my son? If we know his name we could check how well he did in the sword tournament and then we could place a bet if he is alive or not,� the king replied.

“Although my instincts tells me that he is already torn up to shreds.� The prince placed his hand into his pocket heaving a scrolled up piece of parchment. He then began to read it out loud. “Name: John Oxford, Rank: Commander, Weapon of choice: Sword, Tactics: Swipe then slash, Sword Tournament Ranking: 12th position out of 70. It seems like he was one of our best soldiers, yet was he not informed of the encampment of filthy orcs?� the prince questioned in a curious tone.

“He must have just missed the area's security warning,� the king quickly retorted. “Prince Arthas I order you to recruit a band of soldiers and go find that missing commander. Oh, and some things are best left alone, so don't inform them of why you are trekking into that region,� the king ordered.
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Old 12-16-2003, 08:51 PM   #2
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Tomoz i will be adding part two. The story kind of travels like in one mind (Prince Arthas) to the other (Blackrock Grunt). The second chapter follows the story of the blackrock grunt. Expect to see shamans, blademasters and headhunter trolls!
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Old 12-18-2003, 08:59 PM   #3
Join Date: Oct 2003
Posts: 762

Frostigt has a spectacular aura about (79)Frostigt has a spectacular aura about (79)Frostigt has a spectacular aura about (79)


thats wrong, blackrock clan never used shamans, when the clan was created, the hoard was still under demon controll, and when thrall freed the orcs from the internements camps, they didnt want to abondon thiere warlock traditions. if u got to be completly honest, thiere shouldnt be headhunters, bút thats a little silly...
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