With the Legion on our doorstep, Archdruid Kiyona Proudhorn leads her wardens of the Hounds of Fel after points of interest to help put an end to the demonic scourge. Will you join them in an epic adventure of danger and brotherhood? (Heavy RP guild on Wyrmrest Accord (Horde Side))
The evening came to Highmountain. Thunder Totem had closed its shops and settled in for the night. It was this time that when Kiyona called for the assembly of Hounds. Zeviah, one of their Demon Hunters, had asked for help in recovering a soulstone that was important to her. Kiyona had agreed.
As the hour grew late, there was no sign of Zeviah. While the Archdruid was worried something else drew their cocern. A warhorn was sounded and suddenly in a blaze the tents were set on fire from the outside. Feltotem Tauren had raided Thunder Totem.
The Hounds filed out of their tent with arms ready. Ikusame was the first to meet three Feltotem warriors head on. Zaviss, the head Demon Hunter, and Morgan Wargrove, the prisoner, followed right behind. After the initial surprise, the Hounds turned the fight around. Ikusame had overpowered the Tauren warriors to the point of using one as a shield against a volley of arrows.
As the archers saw their comrades fall, they desperately tried to fire more volleys. Iku lost no time in charging across the bridge toward the enemy archers. That action allowed the others to catch up. During which, Olesong joined the fray. There seemed to be no stopping the onslaught brought upon by the Hounds of Fel.
However, the small victory was short lived. An ettin came strolling up the mountainside under the control of a female warlock of the Feltotems. Several runes decorated his skin; lighting up occasionally. Zaviss picked up on the runes and sight of the warlock right away. And he was the first to charge up the mountain after the dark master. The rest of the Hounds stayed behind to deal with the Ettin.
As Zaviss drew closer to his quarry something flew overhead on a giant bat-like glider. It was a Gnome dressed very similar to a Demon Hunter. His torso was covered in tattoos in the shape of gears. On his head were a set of goggles and mechanical horns. In his hands were custom glaives were giant cogs formed their shields on both.
"She's mine!" the Gnome shouted. He proclaimed that he was Fimbick Felspark, and he would be the one to bring the warlock to justice. Furious to the lack of cooperation, Zaviss pressed even harder to get to the warlock and Gnome. Through a series of tricks, Felspark held off Zaviss and caused the warlock to flee. And soon enough, Zaviss lost sight of his target.
On the brightside, Ikusame, Olesong, and Wargrove took down the ettin in a grand display of skill. And after Kiyona made sure everyone was all right, she gathered them to reflect on what happened. She put Zaviss and Olesong in charge of tracking and getting whatever information they could find on the warlock. They couldn't just let this slide. The Highmountains were not just beneficial to their campaign against the Legion, but they were kind and hospitable.
It had been a couple weeks now that the Hounds of Fel landed onto the Broken Isles. Though prepared, they had no idea what was going to unravel before them. The waves did not welcome their ship soundly. The damage was so great that each of the members were scattered to the various locations on the island. Communications were cut off for days.
Soren and his sister Eronae were no different. The pair had washed ashore in Suramar. And unfortunately for them, Suramar was crawling with Nightfallen and demons. Without the aid of the other Hounds they were surrounded and heavily beaten from the mass numbers that tried to do them in.
Just as it was going to turn bleak and the world faded around Soren, a group of druids, led by Archdruid Kiyona Proudhorn, came and cleared the mob. Soren could barely see what was going on. But it was enough to see that Eronae was not with him. There were only faces he was not familiar with.
They hadn't stayed long for more were to arrive. And the druids that saved Soren couldn't risk any more casualties. So they scooped up Soren and took him to their camp. Kiyona could only make out a few ramblings about the Hounds, and perhaps his sister. But the rest was garbled before Soren went unconscious. The Archdruid wouldn't know exactly how long the demon hunter would stay out, but she knew now there were others that needed her help.
She took Soren's scrying orb and contacted those who might have been able to here. And Kiyona gathered them in Thunder Totem in Highmountain. At first they were unsure, but the druid made her intentions perfectly clear. They were going to find the others, and take down the Burning Legion with her as their new leader. With the help of her contacts in the Dreamgrove, she was all ready collecting targets for the Hounds to track down.
Azeroth had been under untold pressure from the Legion. Day after day the assaults, had grown in number. The start of the invasion, to Soren, were just scouts to test the forces left to fight back. As heroes and now Demon Hunters stepped up to face them, the Legion had increased its assault numbers tenfold. It was a sea of blood in many a city as bodies fell.
Soren could sit idle no longer. His Hounds were spread thin and soon not able to make much of a dent there at home. The Lord Commander called for those who could to break away and come back to their island camp. As soon as he, Ikusame, Roan, and Zeviah escorted their supplies from Silvermoon to the ship they would be on their way to the Broken Shores. Soren only hope they heard.
The escort itself was slow at first. The uneven pathways were hard on the wagon. The mammoth that dragged it along could more than handle the rocky terrain. Luckily most of the supplies were tied down else they fall out. The party made light conversation as they rode. It was calming to say the least from all of the fighting. It gave Soren time to think. How they couldn't do this alone. They needed to reach out for others to help their group grow.
Then it came to him. Soren remembered that he had basically put a bounty on Dranothius. The high risk loyalist was willing to go out of his way to kill Soren and his Hounds. But what if Soren turned his focus…the Hounds' focus to killing targets of interest? That's essentially what they were embarking to do. Going to the Broken Shores to get to the leaders of the Legion. Maybe that would interest others. Soren wasn't a hundred percent certain, but perhaps a little money would help get people to their cause to take out enemies that would make a difference in the battle.
Soren snapped out of it when the caravan came to a halt at the cliffs before the entrance to the Ghostlands. Fel tainted dragonhawks were spotted on the cliffs and had soon made their way down. Their agility outmatched the Hounds. But it didn't take long for Ikusame, Zeviah, and Roan to turn the tide. Three dragonhawks were quickly dispatched. Which, in turn, made a very angry, little voice yell out in protest. The Hounds wanted to chase, but the importance of the escort was more important. And so the voice disappeared.
They had only hoped the voice would come back. But alas, it didn't. The rest of the drive was uneventful, until they reached Tranquillien. Soren had made the turn to go West out of town. And as they started to go downhill, one of the wheels on the wagon shattered. The Hounds scrambled to get it repaired. Luckily, Roan remembered to bring extra parts.
As Roan brought the wheel around Zeviah tried to hoist up the wagon alone. Her magic tried to give strength to her skeletal arm long enough for Roan to get the new wheel on. However, the magic fizzled and the weight of the wagon crushed the arm and pinned Zeviah to the ground. Roan, without thinking, flung the wagon wheel away in Ikusame's direction, and hit her squarely in the head. The Pandaren was knocked unconscious.
Soren flung himself from the saddle of the mammoth and onto the ground next to Zeviah. He helped Roan lift the wagon to free Zeviah. With the loss of one of her arms, Zeviah was now confined to drive the caravan. This wasn't before she gave Ikusame a very hot pepper in attempts to wake her. It did the trick. The Pandaren was quick to her feet and wanting more.
Once everyone was straightened out the wheel was finally changed with the help of the town guards. They were on their way again. Thankfully, it wasn't much further. All Roan had to do was caulk the wagon to float it across to the island. The job was enough to get them to the island with the loss of one of the crates.
The call was sounded. The supplies had made it safely. They were moved onto the ship and Soren gave everyone a couple hours to get what they needed and to get aboard. Otherwise, they would have to find their own way to the Shores. It was time to end this invasion.
Days have passed as the Hounds set up their base in the Ghostlands. Soren oversaw all groups as they came and went according to their duties. Once a group came back from cleaning up demons they would return to camp and rest. There were minor chores to be done as they watched over the camp. As the supply runners came and went they didn't seem to notice right away that something was amiss.
Birodil, a runner for the Warchief, was sent to help the Hounds with their venture. To keep an eye on them to make sure they weren't doing anything the Warchief didn't approve of. And it was known to Soren that he would see that supplies were sent from Silvermoon. What wasn't known, was that a day ago a supply run was delivered to the camp that wasn't sent by anyone Birodil knew.
Soren was away to help the current patrol squad clean out demons. So his knowledge of the shipment was unknown. And he wouldn't find out until someone had spotted it.
Anyone who was in camp that night, if awake, would have seen a Blood Elf of a squattier height. He flashed papers that seemed legit. And without Birodil there to verify the authenticity, one could only assume the seal was authentic. When the crates were dropped off and checked, the insides seemed to be in order: medical supplies, rations, linens. And just as quickly as the caravan came, they were gone.
On a second glance, those sensitive to runic magic would have felt waves of dread in the air. It grew stronger the closer one got to the crates.
· Be sure to read over the rules on the houndsoffel.tumblr.com. It will provide a lot of useful information. And check back for updates on ooc information and events.
· Even though we're demon hunter focused, we're not limited to just demon hunters as a class. We're open to any other class and level. So if you have friends interested then we'll give em a chat!
· We could use some healers for raiding/pvping.
· Even though we will be having guild events, that doesn't mean you can't rp on your own with others! If you have ideas, let us know!
· You're wearing out guild tag, so represent us well!
· Come to us if there are any issues. Screenshots help if it's something serious.
(IC)
· Respect rank. Especially while in front of others. Lord Commander Soren Steelfeather is the head of the Hounds of Fel, along with his Overlords Zaviss and Eronae.
· We will be moving from Hillsbrad back to the Ghostlands to prepare to head to the Broken Isles.
· Three (3) teams will be formed and duties will cycle.
· Duties are as follows: Patrol (Hunt down the invasion points to help clear out demons), Runners (Gather supplies needed for the journey), and Guards (Use their time to rest and mend while watching camp).
Southshore erupted with activity. Forsaken crashed to their docks with their battered ships. The Legion had come. They were met by a group of Illidari; Soren Steelfeather's Hounds. They had arrived earlier after finally being freed from their prisons. But their arrival was not met with enthusiasm.
The Northeastern Coalition's Quartermaster Dedricks was skeptical to having the demon hunters in their town. The Forsaken knew of Illidan's once prized warriors, but not their usefulness. Or even if they could be trusted. In the moment of Soren's absence, Zaviss and a handful of other Hounds tried to convince the Quartermaster that they were more than mere tools. However, only one of the Illidari was able to stay. To be studied.
The Hounds of Fel made their way North to discuss what was to happen. Soren quickly dismissed the Coalition after he was briefed on what happened while he was gone. There were far greater things to worry about than whether or not they would be accepted right now. And just then Soren's scrying stone lit up. Much further to the South a portal tore open the Alliance skies of Westfall. They were here.
The Hounds flew as fast as their beasts could carry them. The battle was well under way when they arrived. And they wasted no time to join. They landed hard and steadfast. Once after the other the demons fell to their blades. The demon forces poured out and a few larger demons showed themselves. But as quickly as the fight started, it had ended. There were many to help aid in the fight. But this concerned Soren.
Scouting parties? It had to be. It was just a taste of what was coming.
The Hounds turned to a nearby farm and camped there for the night. Restless as they were, Soren thought it better they wait a breath to see if the Legion would strike there again. Most agreed so they could tend to any wounds. A few ventured to take care of their own business.
Soren could sense the darkness looming. For many a night the Lord Commander sat staring at the sky. He waited with very little sleep with baited breath. There would be a moment the Legion would break through to this world to try and take it for their own. And Soren would be there to meet it.
His Hounds were restless. Soren didn't blame them. There was little activity in the ruins where they stay. They were vigilant, but bored as day after day nothing happened. Soren made little thought about if they thought he was crazy. Let them. It would have been no different than the stares he got while near the cities.
Occasionally, Soren would look toward the old building Innoruuk took for himself. Inside were the warlock's experiments. It was riddled with various demons. But where was that lure? The thought left as quickly as it came as the demon hunter looked back to the sky. All was left were his memories.
Soren stood there in the distance while clutching a frail body in his arms. The shadows held them from obvious sight, but he used his own magic to try and protect the pair. He had missed the raid on the demon world. Gone astray from the Master's plans. It was probably for the better. Soren had watched as the Wardens swarmed the Temple as his brethren returned. Each one was captured and taken away.
Was he a coward to watch it happen? He wondered. Soren's fel gaze turned down to the body curled in his arms. But his moment of thought was shattered when he heard the yells of the Wardens. With a curse under his breath he fled quickly across the fel tainted lands of Shadowmoon.
By foot it seemed like ages to get to Shattrath. But it couldn't have been helped. If Soren stuck to the roads he would have surely been seen. But now came his hardest hurdle. Heroes were returning to Azeroth by the portals provided by the mages within. It was his only chance of getting home.
He tightened the cloak around the woman, and made sure her head was fully covered. Did he have enough confidence in his magic to get inside? He had to rely on the demon inside of himself. He wasn't too sure if that was a good idea. Nethrezim were not known for their honesty. Then he saw it. A caravan coming from the road. Several elekks pulled carts of what looked to be supplies and refugees.
"Perfect."
Soren threw his hood over his head. A simple disguise, but since he shaved down his horns it was less notable that something was odd. And as the caravan rolled past them he leapt onto the back of the rear wagon. Since the refugees were sick in most cases, they really didn't pay any heed to what just happened. So Soren curled his body and prayed he blended in just enough.
The guards were expecting the caravan and with the recent defeat of Illidan weren't on as high alert as before. A simple look through the cargo and a nod they let them pass. Soren glanced out the back for only a moment after his wagon passed the gates. Now the questioned remained, could he get to the center of the city undetected?
As the caravan came to a halt in the Lower City, Soren took his companion into his arms and snuck away before anything was suspected. There were mild looks of curiosity, but as Soren didn't clearly run it didn't bring any more question.
Soren kept his head ducked to ensure his face was not seen. He seemed to have been muttering some nonsense which caught the ears of someone nearby. A Draenei Priestess. When she saw the tattered robes and the bundled body she grew concerned, and intercepted Soren.
"Excuse me," she said with a soft tone. "Are you all right? The refugee camp --"
"We're fine," Soren was quick to say. His voice was changed somehow. No doubt his ramblings were a spell. He sounded deeper, raspy. "It was a long ride."
"Then perhaps a rest before you explore," the Priestess offered.
"No…thank you."
There was an uneasy pause between the two. The Draenei couldn't help but stare longingly at the crumpled body in Soren's arms. Every move she made to assist Soren only countered in clear rejection.
Soren's voice raised in a gentler tone as the woman turned away, "Where are the portals? Directions…please."
The Priestess turned to Soren. Confusion was evident on her face.
"I just need to take my sister home."
The pleading gesture tugged at the woman's heart. She knew better than to not have the refugee not be checked out first. But with a small sigh of defeat she took Soren's arm and lowered her voice so only he could hear.
"Who are you, stranger?"
"Drifters. That is all."
"By the Grace of the Light I pray that is all you are." The Priestess pointed Soren toward the city's center. "I will take you are far as main level. After that, go straight into the middle. The Horde and Alliance have mages to take you where you need to go."
And so she did. The Priestess walked with confidence. It was no different than her normal escorting a refugee. The guards offered her a smile and she gave one in return. And when the time came she left Soren's side. Any words she offered were lost to him as he stared ahead with Eronae in his arms. He then spared no more hesitation and pushed forward.
Some gave glares as Soren forced his way through. The carelessness almost cost him. A larger Draenei who was headed to attend a sermon shouldered the smaller Elf. Soren's hood fluttered free to reveal his face. Though quick to pull it back up the Draenei saw the blindfold and stumps where Soren's horns were.
"You! Stop!" the Draenei bellowed out. As the large man reached out to grab Soren the demon hunter had already turned straight for the portals now. The running now put the attention all on him. The sermon that was nearby came to a stop as they saw Soren fly past.
Soren's agility paid off. Just as the mages were told to close the portal, the demon hunter and his sister had already jumped through.
Soren's gaze broke from the sky. He could hear the ruins becoming active again. Maybe there was something to be found. At least, enough to keep him busy.
Scattered across Azeroth letters are sent with haste to those who associate with the Hounds of Fel. Each piece of parchment was rolled and closed with a green, wax seal; the emblem of a dog’s skull encircled by a flame. To those that it concerned it read within:
Hounds,
The reach of the Legion has extended to the main lands of Azeroth. No longer can we sit and wait for the opening of the Broken Isles. Ready your blades! Some of us have already moved South. Make your way the ruins of Southshore as quickly as you can. We gather there to try and lure out the demons and to put a dent in their coming.
Lord Commander Soren Steelfeather
Time was growing short for the world. With Gul’dan’s meddling in our time, could the Heroes of Azeroth put an end to the Legion? It was a question that couldn’t be left to ponder. Soren knew this, and so did his Hounds. So instead of waiting, the Lord Commander decided to bring the fight to them.
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