Update Archive/13

A violent cry startles them. Captain Reginald Redpath is pushing the rogue admiral's men back towards their ships. The sight of this push drives the loyalist Tirasians into a heartened charge as their morale is raised.
"For Proudmoore!" Captain Redpath roars, driving his sword through the chest of one of Janus' men.
The magi remain resolute. Scavell speaks.
"Admiral Thaumas Proudmoore, we are watching you. We expect to see you at the council at Fenris Isle in several days time. If you do not attend, we will consider you our enemy and we will depose you and your crazed father. At that meeting we expect you to address the issues of national secuirity and global peacekeeping. We warn you that the dictator of Dalaran is not our friend, and do not expect you to show him any support."
Phorcys grunts. The boat rocks beneath their feet as the weather begins to pick up and storm clouds rumble overhead.
"Do not seek to command the children of Mnesthes, magus. You have no authority here."
Lifting his hands into the air, Phorcys mutters a spell. He is on the beach with Thaumas once more.
A cry goes up from the rogue admiral's ships.
"Retreat!"
"Well, my son. We lie at a crossroads. It seems like the meeting at Fenris Isle is our next destination. And there is one last matter to attend... shall we please the people with a church to the Light? They surely don't deserve it after what has happened here. Many citizens worked with Janus' men."
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OOC: Wabbajack can control Ba'jal when Skirvar is unable to say anything for the time being; it worked out.
 and Ironforge - Skirvar
Jin'thek and his company shackle the dwarves, and immediately begin moving south into Shadowpine territory. It is a dense location of forest and brambles, rank with rotting shrubbery and clogged with mist. They descend deeper and deeper, past totems and skulls hoisted on spears. Shadowpine territory borders with Quel'Thalas, forcing the tribe to be especially defensive and violent.
Finally, the trolls and their captives approach the Shadowpine village, nestled amongst the trees, connected by rope bridges. Only a few trolls are present, working at repairing their homes or crafting weapons. One of them approaches Jin'thek.
"What you be wantin', mon? Why you bring shortbeards here? This be our land, you have no right!"
Jin'thek maintains his stiff stance, standing tall.
"One of our slaves escaped; you be seein him?"
"No mon. We seen nothin." the Shadowpine spokesman responds.
"They're lyin'!" Urel growls, though only Skirvar understands him.
---
James Sherman waits outside in the courtyard of the keep, surrounded by the king's bodyguards. Tension is high between the rebels of the People's Front and the king's men, both of which face one another at opposite ends of the courtyard. Violence is a likely outcome here.
Eventually, Maximus Krowl and Alford Menethil emerge from the keep. They stand side by side.
"An agreement has been worked out." Krowl confesses, looking to his men. "Stand down, brothers."
Over several hours, Krowl gathers his militia, including countrymen from farms just outside Hearthglen. They stand assembled in the town square. Maximus and Alford stand on a wooden platform, ringed by the king's guards.
Maximus clears his throat for silence. Eager eyes look to him.
"Comrades of the People's Front. Hear me out. It has been an honourable year amongst you. We have turned the king's tax collectors aside and have protected ourselves from the witch hunters of the Archbishop. Together, we perservered. Our local customs have been guarded. I have spoken with the king, and he has agreed not to overlook us. We will be safe here. The People's Front has accomplished what it set out to do."
An uneasy silence falls across the crowd. One of the rebel soldiers, an old white haired figure, steps forward.
"How dare you? This was never about taxes or protection, and you know that, Krowl. It was you who assembled us. We fight for democracy! Do we have democracy?" The man is looking to and fro at his comrades. "Do we lay down our swords because Krowl has shown his true colours?"
Krowl raises his hands in a gesture of peace.
"Lay down your arms, Canbrad. It's over. The king has graced us."
"You are a liar and a traitor to the People's Front!" Canbrad exclaims. Murmurs of agreement run through the crowd. "This is not democracy! This is blackmail! You contradict yourself, Krowl!"
"Traitor!" one of the townsfolk roars.
"Enough!" Krowl shouts. "Lay down your arms. I hereby disband the People's Front. King Menethil will take me in chains for judgement to Capital City. There, fate will be the judge. Maintain a militia to protect yourself from witch hunters, but expect a governor from the court to take over in my absence."
Canbrad broods silently, and walks away. He is followed by a great trail of his men. They vanish into the forest outside of the city. Krowl turns to Alford.
"I wouldn't expect this to be the end of your troubles in the countryside, my king. But now we must leave. I don't think we are safe here anymore."
---
The dwarf ambassador barks a laugh, and lifts a parchment out of his coat pocket. He unfolds it before Javali, showing a design of something that roughly resembled a tube.
"We be refinin' black powders to create what our technicians be callin' a boomstick. It could be a weapon of the age if we harness it."
Javali puts his hand to his chin in consideration.
"Not enough detail there, dwarf. Now excuse me. We can speak again once I make up my mind."
By the next few days, the nobles from the surrounding lands have gathered in the Violet Citadel. They assemble to hear Javali speak in the banquet hall. The dinner is surrounded by women dressed in blue; symbols of terror. They are the Zinite pagan witches, the Hareveim of Zinizar.
Zinizar whispers into Javali's ear as he moves to take a seat.
"We are already working to instill fear in your enemies. Fear and pain, Javali. Make your speech. Gather your followers. Then abolish the Archivists."
Category:Updates
Category:By Timolas