The Northrend Reports
As troops from all factions and all races march towards the sunwell to stop the enemy of all life from entering Azeroth, three companions, a man, a night elf and a gnome will attempt what all others have failed before them: explore the scourge ruled continent of Northrend! As they fly their stolen zeppelin in the heart of the lich king's kingdom of dread, our heroes will live tales of adventure, romance and murder most foul... Join Niklaren (flash), Kevkaln (flash, flash) and Zilenoz (flash) in an adventure that will shurely, as Arthas would say, shake the very foundations of the world!
Northrend Survey: the final report (part 1)
(Make shure you read the other Northrend reports to get a better idea of what’s going on!)
Captain Zilenoz’s log
30th of August
Mission accomplished! Our scouting assignment is now complete and I must say I am rather worried from the things we have witnessed in these shadowy lands. The hour is dire, Arthas’s forces are more powerful than ever. Everywhere we lay eyes the forces of the scourge crawl beneath us like the rotting maggots they are. Brainless, soulless minions of death incarnate, they march in the frozen wastes like an endless tide of darkness (wink). Even from the relative safety of our hot air balloon I cannot help but fear for the worse. Forces must be gathered to strike at the scourge, for I fear there wont be an Azeroth left for me to enslave if the alliance and the horde are not warned of the impending doom.
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Glimpses of a New Frontier
August 11th
The gnomes, most of which have died, turned out to be as treacherous as I had thought in my delirious state. Not only did they sew lead to my clothes as I took a rest on the deck, after having come from brawling with a water drake that later decided to crush the zeppelin. As I said, however, most of them died, so I can forgive the survivors.
Serpent's Kiss
“Perfect timing!”
Niklaren winced at the high-pitched voice, pressing two slender fingers against his temple in a vain effort to stave off the growing ache that built every time one of the diminutive gnomes decided to speak. It was a losing battle, especially when they had begun chattering at one another in whatever gibberish passed for a language among their kind.
“Moonshine, if you would stop lazing about,” the warlock began, leaning heavily on his staff and frowning down at the woozy elf. “The best way to stop this serpent is obviously to—”
Descent into the Waters of Insanity
Back and forth, back and forth... It seemed all Kevkaln wanted of him!
The Guardian of the Forest, a noble owl borne deep in Kaldorei lands, flapped its majestic wings with frustration. The journey to Stormwind from the zeppelin on its course to Northrend was always a harsh one. Every time he flew from one to the other, he risked death.
Ignoring the freezing winds when this far north, there was many other dangers! Once, a gargoyle thought to give chase! Even when flying in warmer climates, he was assailed by enemies! The oddest of it all, the ones least threatening were the elves of Quel'thalas. Not many of them went out of their way to try to shoot down an owl high above their lands.
The DWARVES, though! The hairy midgets, with their metal boomsticks...
Reach of the North
A purple torso, with long blue hair that blew with the wind, sat like some decorative guardian of the sea at the helm of the airship. Where the guardian might have bosoms, the kaldorei had a well-defined masculinity, one which seemed to reflect the shine of the moon, tying well with his name.
Kevkaln Moonshine remained cross-legged, wearing ragged looking shorts as he sat on guard. Those who knew Kev close enough, could easily venture the shorts were of his own design: the hides of only the most monstrous enemies, sewn together in the most primal fashion. It offered protection and mobility.
And a wonderful breeze that he so enjoyed...
Captain's log: The Dark Journey (part 2)
Captain Zilenoz’s log,
25th of July
Yesterday was a long and terrible night. As the better part of the crew slept peacefully in the lower bowels of the zeppelin, we where attacked by a flock of the Lich King’s minions. Bloodthirsty gargoyles of the frozen wastes sprouted from the darkness of the night and began raiding the aircraft with frightening ferocity.
Captain's log: The Dark Journey (part 1)
Zilenoz sat upon his throne as nations from the four corners of the world gathered before him. The wind was blowing in the pink and purple banners tagged with the newly crowned emperor’s shadowy emblem. The gnome grinned as he gazed upon the thousands of slaves his demonic minions whipped into submission, their eyes filled with pain and fear as they bowed before the small figure that overlooked them from the elevated balcony. All cheered the great Zilenoz, a great clamor rose like a tempest as a million voices united to celebrate the new order upon the world. Representatives from all over Azeroth where kneeling before him: a thousand human nations, night elves, dwarves from all over the underworld, myriads of elves and other creatures from the darkest parts of the continents where now equal, equal in their utter subjugation to the immortal emperor Zilenoz Blackheart, ruler of the multiverse.
Black Night, Dark Sky
With the black sky above and the dark sea below, it was a simple matter to pretend the airship and those within it were the only sparks of existence left in a great void. The twin moons were hidden, masked by heavy clouds that roiled like a perverse mirror of the churning ocean. The night seemed thicker, somehow. To Niklaren’s eyes, it was as though every meter north caused the darkness around them to stir, to become more solid and oppressive. The soft glow cast by the flickering lamplight grew more huddled and weak, the slight flames dancing fearfully within the glass. As if the night were reaching for it, to extinguish the fire between two cold fingertips...
I Feel Big
Kevkaln leaned against a wooden rail, the golden orbs locked on the south. A smouldering heap of rubble had long faded from view. Taken with the besieged goblin fortress, along with the eye sore, was Snowfang. The wolf, ever like himself, elected to stay grounded. Neither truly understood the joy of flight...
Not that I fear it, as she does. Kevkaln thought, enjoying a wind current sending his mane of blue cascading backward. His bare chest quivered in its wake, not at all from chill, but thrill. Adventure was afoot!
Down to his most bare, he looked all too relaxed, sporting only knee length, brown leather shorts, and boots of the same fabric. Though he knew the others little cared for him dressed so, it seemed only encouragement. Besides, out of the heat of battle from goblins or anything remotely threatening, what point was there for his armour?
Captain Zilenoz
«Nalfip! Why are my writing tools not at my desk! What treachery is this! I DEMAND THAT YOU BRING MY WRITING TOOLS TO MY DESK!»
The skulking dark skinned imp made his way into the main cabin of the recently commandeered zeppelin with a heavy (by imp standards at least) felcloth bag on his shoulders. The creature swore quite a few times in demonic as it looked through the contents of the bag. «Zilenoz, all I see in here is a felfire box, a manure load of gunpowder, a rusty musket, an orb that appears to be containing a swirling vortex to worlds beyond and a half-eaten pastry…»
The gnome quirked a bushy pink eyebrow. « Hmmmm peculiar…I seem to have forgotten my means of correspondence, AND ITS MASTER BLACKHEART TO YOU!»
«Well the pigeon cages are upstairs.» reminded the imp.
