The Four Harbingers: Looking for a 4th member as well as people to join the plot!

Submitted by Alra on July 1, 2009 - 8:46am.

RP Classifieds

(( First of all, sorry if this is the wrong forum :D, but anyway...

Note: Long term RP :D

The Four Harbingers is a guild my friends and I started to bring more dramatic RP to the server of shadow council. We are an evil-based guild that is allied with the Lich King and serving under him. Think of it as a sort of 'front-line' Four Horsemen. Basically he picked us and sent us to Azeroth so that we could cause havoc while the Alliance and Horde are fighting in Northrend. And now I shall post the stories which include an introduction and a personal backstory of each of the Harbinger's. These should give you a better insight then my OOC ramblings :P. Oh, and before the stories we are still on the look out for a fourth member. So if you can dedicatedly level a DK and provide a backstory we'd be happy to let you join :)

Intro:

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Gregor leaned over the edge of Icecrown Citadel, eyeing the massive undead army beginning to mobilize at the foot of the immense structure. His eyes moved across the large courtyard of Corp’rethar taking in the sight of every ghoul, abomination and Flesh Giant taking their positions on the other side. He grabbed the brim of his hood as a Frostwyrm flew over him and into the bleak void beyond his vision. Gregor was one of the Cult Alchemists stationed inside Icecrown Glacier, soon to be relocated into the field to conduct various experiments on new strains of plague. His unit was the last to be sent out, giving him time to observe his master’s work. He smiled at the fact that he was still able to work near Icecrown and took relish in the fact that he would be able to see, and perhaps even take part in the many killings that would ensue shortly. He thought about the inferior mortal races about to invade and laughed to himself at the thought that they could defeat the might of the scourge.

Gregor was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t even hear one of his associates, Mordere, approach him from behind.

“Have you seen them?” Mordere said in a somewhat ecstatic tone.

“Seen what?” Gregor replied, turning around.

“Them.” Mordere exclaimed, smirking slyly as he folded his arms over one another. Gregor had a faint idea of what he was talking about, but cocked an eyebrow nonetheless.

“Who is ‘them’?” Gregor asked.

“Why, the Lich King’s new force of destruction,” Cried Mordere. “The new task force being sent too Azeroth.”

“You can’t mean-“ Gregor Started.

“Yes! The new Four Horsemen! The one’s the master picked himself!”

“Ah,” Gregor said. “I had a feeling you were talking about them.” Gregor shrugged a shoulder, only hearing about these ‘Horsemen’ in hushed whispers and other shady business of the sort. “I don’t see what is so special about them,” Said Gregor. “We already have a Four Horsemen, don’t we? Why do we need another?”

Mordere looked surprised. “Why, Gregor, don’t you realize how defenseless Azeroth will be once the armies of the Alliance and Horde land on our shores? They will have minimal defense, if any. And I doubt they’ll be expecting something like this!” Mordere still had an ecstatic air about him. “It’s a genius plan the master has come up with. While their puny armies succumb to the power of Death here, their homeland shall be riddled with destruction and plague from these new champions of the scourge!”

Gregor was silent. He let all this process in his mind, and then smiled a bit. “Interesting…It sounds like something I’d really like to be able to watch.” Gregor laughed a bit, turning to look down at the courtyard again. His eyes widened, and for one solitary moment his heart, now frozen with hatred and death, sunk. His hand went to his chest as he watched the four of them exit from the citadel entrance. They remained for only a moment, mounting of their griffons and riding off into the same bleak darkness the frostwyrm disappeared into. Mordere, just now noticing said. “Gregor, what’s wrong. Did you see something?” Gregor coughed and shook his head, turning around to look at Mordere. He turned his head back to the courtyard, letting one hand rest on the icy guardrail.

“Nothing…It’s nothing…”

Gregor couldn’t help but smile.

Alra's

Submitted by Alra on July 1, 2009 - 8:55am.

Alra's story:

It wasn’t always this way…I wasn’t always this way… I used to be a normal little girl, growing up with a normal family…at least for the first six years of my life. I was born in Duskwood at Raven’s Hill to my mother and father, both paladins of the holy light. Of course this was before Duskwood was handed over to the scourge and the Worgen, so things were pretty normal. My mother actively trained me in the ways of the light, my father would often go out and do various tasks for the Alliance, but would always return home much later than he was supposed to, reeking of alcohol. He wasn’t the best Paladin, you could say that. He wasn’t the best person either. He would do things to me in the middle of the night. He would sneak in my room and touch me, and tell me that if I ever told my mother he would leave her. I loved my mother very much, so I would always keep my mouth shut…no matter how much it destroyed me. I was only five years old.

The abuse was pretty infrequent and happened sporadically over the next three years. My ability to control the light had nearly dissipated, and my mother becoming increasingly worried about my well being, and the lately horrid attitude and drunken stupor of my father. The day that officially began my fall into despair and insanity was the longest day of my life. My mother must have seen him get out of bed that night, because she followed him into my room and saw what he was about to do to me. She screamed at him to get out, but he rounded on her and slapped her hard across the face. I hid under my blanket and listened to the sound of him mercilessly beating her. I passed out…and when I woke up, he was sitting on the edge of my bed, his face bloody, and holding a dirty shovel. He turned to me, and stared at me for what could’ve been the longest sixty seconds of my life, and said. “Say anything, and I will kill you too…” The rest of that year saw the corruption of Duskwood, as well as the corruption of little Alra Tyrinen. I was nine years old.

When I was ten I met another little girl, who back then actually kept me stable. Just someone to talk to really mellowed me out between my father’s brutal beatings, and sexual abuse. Her name was Larla Dark, a member of infamous Dark Family of Duskwood. We became fast friends, although her parents never quite approved of me being a paladin, which I don’t even think I was at that point anymore. Regardless, we would always get into trouble together, and I was actually happy…for a little awhile, anyway…and looking back, I wish I never met the bitch If I knew she and her little friends were going to cause me all the trouble I would come to experience. I continued to lose what little of my sanity remained as the years dragged on. Things with my father got even worse up to the point, that even Larla wasn’t able to cheer me up. He began to rape me frequently…He would even bring his drunken friends over, and they would rape me too. I still kept my mouth shut, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like it hurt anymore. I was fourteen when my sanity finally succumbed to the burning hatred and resentment I held inside of me. I killed my father. He crept inside my room for his nightly routine, but this time I was waiting, behind the door. I ran him through with his own sword, and buried him out back with the same shovel that he used to bury my mother. I stared at that accursed grave until the dawn came…and when It did, I knew It was time for me to disappear…for a long, long time.

I was a husk. A soulless, heartless shell of a person…I wandered aimlessly for five years, trying to figure out what I would do next. What I could do next. But once I figured It out, I felt stupid for overlooking an answer so simple…I was going to kill… everyone, and everything. It was the only thing that made me feel better, It was the only thing that softened my suffering. I was lost to my insanity, but I didn’t care. It felt good, and that was all that mattered. The blade I hold now, Is the same one I used back then…It’s a rough estimate, but this blade I hold in my hands, my fathers blade…has taken over three-hundred lives. I was actually celebrity in the short amount of time I was physically on Azeroth. The nobles spoke of each incident with hushed tones, parents wouldn’t let their children out, the guard was stationed everywhere you could think of. Westfall, Elwynn, Redridge, and Duskwood were in a state of mass hysteria. But the best part was, I was so subtle and concise in my actions that no one knew my name, or even what I looked like. I thought I could go on doing this forever…but, sadly…I was wrong about that. The bitch found me again and she pretty much caught me red-handed. Of course, I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Now, the following events are all very blurry…but I know that I was, in fact, killed. But, I don’t think I ever truly felt death, because I don’t think I ever truly died…my body was gone, but my soul seemed to exist in a limbo of some sort. I was fully conscious, but I had no semblance of a body. I came to spend two years in this state before understanding where I was, although I never had any idea how. Perhaps the sheer hatred I held inside of me was enough to allow my tortured soul to remain on the mortal plane, or perhaps it was magic of some sort. I don’t think I’ll ever know. But, once I found out where I was, and what I could do…It didn’t matter much anymore. I would’ve been 21 years old.

It’s strange, being in limbo. It would drive a normal person mad…but when you’re already mad time seems to fly right by. By the end of those two years, I started to realize where I was. This wasn’t limbo, or hell. I was within the confines of Larla’s subconscious. I figured this out probably because I believe that every time Larla had a strong emotion such as anger, or sadness, the darkness would clear, and I would be able to see through her eyes, and see what she was seeing. I didn’t know what to make of it, and didn’t believe what I was seeing at first. But eventually...I was able to manipulate her and bend her to my will. It was like having another chance and it felt great. I managed to slaughter at least a hundred more people, and all in her body! I thought this was perfect! But, of course…there was a downside to of all this. What was that downside you ask? The interference. She had friends, allies, and many of them tried to stop me. It was hard enough not even having complete control over her and having to deal with her constantly breaking free from me. I knew I’d either have to take over her completely, or have her killed, and find a new body to inhabit. The first one was the most simple, and more likely. The latter was only a theory that I wasn’t risky enough to try. The constant interference never allowed me to keep in control of her long enough to take her over, though. This was mostly due to one man…a Draenei named Lofty Cortann. Oh, how sweet my revenge will be on him…He was the one of the few constants that interfered with me. I even took him out once, but he still came looking for more. He just had to save his little Larla. Pfft…Disgusting. His interference eventually led to him and another of Larla’s friends, Hamenn to actually succeed in banishing me within Larla’s soul…It was a banishment powerful enough to keep me under control. Although, I’d rather not say how it was accomplished…I don’t want to show weakness or fear under my new master…I would’ve been twenty-four years old.

“But…now things are different. Since he found me I have my body back…I have my power back...I have everything that I could want and more! I owe everything I have now to him, and I will do my best to serve him the best I can. I realize the great trust he has put in me to lead this team…and I will not fail him. But, do not think that because I will have a new agenda that I have forgotten about you, Larla. Every chance I get I will be after you, and all of your pathetic friends. I will stop at nothing to exact my vengeance on you and the rest of humanity. I know that you know I’m already gone…I was a bigger part of you than you know. I just hope you’re not planning to tread the frozen wastes of Northrend alone, Larla. Because I will be watching, I will be waiting, and I will be hunting.”

<Alra>

“You’ll be seeing me very soon…that I can assure you. I just hope you’re prepared for a slow, painful death. And to think…If you hadn’t killed me, I wouldn’t be plotting your death at this very moment…But, the only difference between my death in the past, and your upcoming one is that…you won’t be coming back.”

<Alra>

Your soul will be mine.

Koratt's story, which is more of an analysis by his arch enemy and 'sort of' twin ,Tarokk.

Koratt... I think he is me.

Now, allow me to explain. The facts that I have gathered are as follows. I have clear memories of my, our,or his life before the time... well, I suppose it is best in my ignorance to label the event 'the divergence' because it is where he and I both exist as seperate and distinct entities. From the evidence gathered we can conclude that he also has such memories, and that both of us have attatched emotions to them. I would like to conclude further that our emotions are similar, but I simply do not have the information to support that belief significantly. The next fact is that after the divergence, my body was notably and observably inhuman. It can be argued as to the exact name for what I was, but regardless, I was years younger. Observably enough, I still am. I am told I look Twenty Four winters old at most. I can assure you I've been around for more than fourty. I was also in better shape, even, and in fact especially compared to the original age of Twenty one that I appeared then to be. Finally, I was unkillable. Now, I know what you are thinking, I do, however even after the most brutal 'deaths' and dismemberments, I'd just wake up, unwounded, at some point later. I even fell on my own sword once to prove the point. As I recall it was just before I took my second wife, Sylen. As for his body, it is observable that he has all the scars I used to, and all the scars I -should- have now. Even this one from Rivendere, which remains the only one I carry for more than a month. I offer no conjecture for why, only the fact. Mind you, it is also clear that the Lich King has significantly enhanced Koratt. Based on observations from others, I think it is safe to conclude he is nearly as strong as I am, and perhaps more.

Another important set of facts, and I promise I'll run out eventually, are the fighting styles we employ.Before the divergance, I was a knight, and like any good man-at-arms, I wielded my weapon with discipline, precision, tactics, and power. After the divergence, my mind suffered its first schism, we presumed from a touch with the Nether. I became a berserker, and instead wielded many weapons, an unreasoning fury, an unquenchable lust for blood, and unpredictably. I still do, and do so without regrets. It is observed that Koratt, when fighting,still exhibits habits of a man-at-arms, and has a mind for tactics. He has adapted this well to the talents given to him by the Lich King, and is extremely formiddable. This fact is important because the style seems born from the time before the divergence, while my own is not so.

The last fact is that I, as well as everyone I suppose, was unaware of Koratt's existance until the Lich King's most recent assault, and the Alliance's retaliation and movement into Northrend. However, he has apparantly been aware of my existance since the divergence. This is clear because he is observably furious about it, and believes I am a fake person who "stole" (quotation fingers) his life and subsequently ruined it. Now, as the one living said life, I don't think I've ruined a thing. In fact I like my life.

However, given the facts... Koratt may be correct, and I am some sort of fake. I am convinced of the truth of this, however one pair of facts is certain.

This is my life now, and he'll have to do a lot more than just kill me if he wants it back.

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Submitted by Alra on July 1, 2009 - 8:57am.

Renhardt's Story.

The Past

Renhardt wasn’t always called like that. A bearer of noble blood, a name forgotten by time and once head of a family of great renown, Renhardt was a man of great power. He used to rule a great city surrounded by mighty walls of stone alongside the other families from the nobility. However, as a small military force slowly began to gain power over the city, the nobles were worried they would be displaced from their throne. Allied with a shadowy organization, the nobles (and Renhardt among them) would plan an attack on their own city, masquerading as bandits, to end this military group once and for all. However, the real intention of the organization was to destroy the city and eliminate it as a threat for their shady deeds. Renhardt’s family (his wife and two sons) were murdered during this assault. Swearing revenge upon the nobles, he threatened to reveal their true identity to the world. For this he was assassinated. Years later, his broken and dead body was disinterred and raised as a minion to the Lich King. He had no longer the need for revenge, but rather a much different desire. The memory of his own hometown set ablaze triggered in him an excitement he had never known before. Upon his mind, there was but one very simple goal: to see how the world would look covered in flames.

The Present

Chosen as one of the Four Harbingers, Renhardt tries to avoid petty conflicts and focuses on greater ways to achieve their common goals. Elegant and well versed, he relies on his deceiving skill with words to influence others and slide out of trouble rather than brute force. However, when it comes to that, he becomes more a beast and less a man when confronting his adversaries in combat, losing all trace of humanity and striking with ferocious strength. Despite his old age, unholy energies make him quicker and stronger than he looks, so he shouldn’t be underestimated. Renhardt also has a very particular trait: whenever he is slain, his dead body comes back to life after a few minutes pass. He thinks of this of a curse rather than a gift, as he is deprived from the chance to finally rest. This led him to seeking the one that would put him down for good, and whoever fails to do so finds themselves slain instead.

Shorok Morien, Mist

Submitted by Shorok on July 2, 2009 - 1:01am.

Shorok Morien, Mist Walker; At your service.....

((Intresting, Though I may be wrong in this. But do you have any Horde alike races among your Harbingers? Or are you just allaince? Secondly, you do realise its incredibly hard to play the bad guys...Right? You live in a world full of heros and doo gooders. I'm in no way saying thats impossible. But as soons as one person finds out who you are. Not only will you have the Allaince you will have the Horde. Third: Playing a postion of Power is incredibly hard unless you have crediblity. Do you have a circle of friends that allready know you? Has a pre scripted plot been made? Or are you just going to walk up and expect others to keel over for you? If I may a suggest, get to 80. Find In-game items that can help explain your Characters powers. Because its incredibly more believable, when you say. **I summon the souls of vanquished warriors to my side!!!!** Or something like that..An actually be able to do Army of the Dead.

Other then that! Good luck!))

(( No horde unfortunately

Submitted by Alra on July 2, 2009 - 5:44am.

(( No horde unfortunately :( We do want to do World PvP in the future, however. Also, we know how difficult being the badguy is :P But we're doing the best we can to get people to cooperate. All four of us combined have a pretty large circle of friends and word has managed to spread quite a bit IC. We're still working on it of course, but everyone involved largely cooperates with our RP. We're all working on 80 too atm :P Alra is 78 and hopefully by the end of the week she'll be 80 and raiding!

If you are horde, however.. you could always make an alliance alt and whisper me :P I always appreciate any sort of participation! ))

Shorok Morien, Mist

Submitted by Shorok on July 2, 2009 - 11:01pm.

Shorok Morien, Mist Walker; At your service.....

((How about I just promise not to track your little band down and not slaughter you? Hehe, thanks for the invite.. I mite even take you up on the offer.. Say cult of the Damned, rogue?))

New Material for upcoming event.

Submitted by Alra on July 5, 2009 - 3:46pm.

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The Mysterious Letter and the Tale of Barthius Sire.

(Prelude to our first event. Which will hopefully happen once our fourth gets all set up)

"Well, what is it ?" Barthius said, looking at the guard expectantly, "Are you going to pick it up or just leave it there?"

"Yeah, I just..." The guard sighed, "I don't know. It's just weird. We won't receive letters very often."

"Well, that is why it must be something urgent! Just pick it up!" Barthius cried, "No, don't open it! We'll take it to Lord Maxwell. It's probably for him anyway." The pair walked up the path up the chapel, Barthius turning to look at the letter in the guards hand. He too, had a strange feeling about it, but wanted to stay as professional as he possibly could. The strangest thing, he thought, was that the person couldn't simply deliver it in person. His gazed returned back the Chapel as they drew closer to it.

"G'morning, Father Barthius!" Shouted Caretaker Alen, "Hey, what'cha got there? Is that a letter or somethin'?"

"Ah, good morning, Alen. And yes, it is. It was lying on the ground at the end of the path. Avery noticed it on his early morning patrol." Said Barthius, gesturing at the guard. Alen set his tools down and walked over, looking quite suprised.

"Well, damn...we haven't had a letter in quite a long time. Is it for Lord Maxwell?"

"We assume so." Said Avery, "But, there isn't any names or nothin' on it."

"Do you know if Lord Maxwell is awake yet, Alen?" Barthius asked, returning his gaze to the Chapel again.

"Yea, I think so." Alen replied, "Go on in and see." Barthius nodded, and motioned for the two to follow him. Barthius immediately noticed Lord Maxwell sitting in one of the chairs at the table in the center of the Chapel. The only other at the table was another guard, apparently off duty. The Chapel was less crowded lately due to the war and most of the members accompanying Lord Tirion to Icecrown. Maxwell was drinking from a small mug and exchanging a few words with the guard across from him, but stopped mid-sentence once he noticed Barthius, Avery and Alen walk in.

"Ah, good morning, Gentlemen. Something you need? Coffee, perhaps?" Lord Maxwell smiled at them, but his expression quickly switch to that of seriousness, when he noticed the stern expression of Barthius' face.

"What is wrong? Has something happened?" Maxwell started. Barthius snatched the letter from Avery's hand and strode over to Maxwell, presenting it to him.

"A letter came this morning, Lord Maxwell. I suppose it's for you." Maxwell eyed the letter, then eyed Barthius, then eyed the letter again. He nodded and carefully took it from Barthius without saying a word. He opened it tentatively and withdrew a yellow, crinkly piece of paper and began to read. As he read his good eye widened and his mouth opened slightly.

"What?" He uttered, turning the letter around and frantically searching all over the paper. He then reached for the envelope, almost turning it inside out, "A name, there has to be a name!" Barthius and the others looked at him, a bit startled.

"What did it say, My Lord?" Said Avery, watching Maxwell frantically search.

"See for yourselves.." Maxwell handed the letter to Barthius, Avery and Alen looking over his shoulders to read.

"What?!" All three proclaimed simultaneously. Barthius looking the most alarmed out of the three of them.

"No, no. This is a fake! A childish prank. A hoax, I say!" Cried Barthius, throwing the letter back on the table, "There is no way, I repeat no way that could happen. And even if it did, why would they need -our- help?"

"What do you mean?" Said Maxwell, "We'll have to reinforce every major city. These monsters cannot be allowed to freely run the streets and lands of Azeroth!"

"But, sir!" Cried Barthius. "It could most definitely be some sort of hoax! Surely you can see the plausibility of that!"

"But, who would lie abou - " Started Alen, but Barthius raised a hand.

"I find a situation such as this to be highly unlikely. However, I am not against sending someone to investigate. And if the things stated in this letter are true, then we shall reinforce the cities the best we can to protect them from this menace!" Barthius panted, looking at Maxwell expectantly.

"Well, how about you, Barthius?" Said Maxwell, turning to look at him.

"Pardon me, My lord?" Stammered Barthius, looking suprised.

"You go. You're our emissary, after all. I went to you to monitor Stormwind for a couple of weeks and report on any happenings that go on. You are -not- to return to me until you have mailed your full report to us. That is all. I expect you to head out today." Maxwell nodded, standing up from his chair and walking past the three of them outside." Barthius stood, grumbled a bit, then turned strode off to his quarters, leaving Avery and Alen looking quite confused. He returned only a few moments later, with a large backpack and several smaller ones hooked onto his belt. He briskly walked outside past Avery and Alen again and stood next to Lord Maxwell.

"You're sure about this?" Barthius asked.

"Quite sure, Barthius. I do not believe someone would make up something like that. It is serious business." Maxwell nodded and turned to look at Barthius, "Good luck, Barthius. I hope your journey goes well." Barthius wanted very much to make a comment, but held his tongue always being one to follow orders in an instant. He simply sighed and gave Maxwell a nod before turning on his heel towards the Flight Master, grumbling as he went.

((Just so you know Barthius is an actually character of mine :P So again, if you have any questions and you see him online don't be afraid to send me a whisper!))

((I have a death knight,

Submitted by Corenn on July 5, 2009 - 9:23pm.

((I have a death knight, Daenyra, that I would love to background tie to this plot as it is very interesting, but sadly I have no plans on being evil. :) having people she trained with whom she might be with at odds now might be cool. Looks like a good plot))

Little late....

Submitted by Giordana on July 13, 2009 - 9:56am.

Just now catching up to things. I'm ever attracted to evil plots. Not a DK, don't have anymore slots on this server, but Gio is a power-hungry mage and almost 80. (74). Would love to get involved!

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The Four Harbingers: Looking for a 4th member as well as people to join the plot!

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Shorok Morien, Mist

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Shorok Morien, Mist

New Material for upcoming event.

((I have a death knight,

Little late....

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