02-22-2016, 09:33 AM
Camelot was known for many things: It’s dragons, it’s castles, it’s cheery atmosphere, but when most were to enter the medieval-themed universe, one thing generally comes to mind.
The place was Green, from it’s elegant meadows, to its lush forests, to the plains that seem to stretch on forever. Even the castles of the realm integrated the greenery, rather than being places of purely stone. What the realm of camelot may have lacked in technological function or advanced transportation, as the empire could boast, it made up for in sheer, simple, natural beauty.
Fitting, Grimm Doomtusk thought to himself, that all that was left in his wake was a burning expanse of blackened, charred expanses of grassland, near the keep his band had pillaged. It was as though he was repainting the kingdom in his own colors. Grimm held up his hand, hoisting the newly fashioned flag of his warband.
Once, these colors stood for someone Grimm believed would fashion the next era of the horde. Now, as the black-and-red banner of flame and Axe stood high into the air of the kingdom of Camelot, Grimm smiled as he thought of his old mentor. For a mage, he’d known everything Grimm had ever learned about tactics… including how to forge his own.
He wondered if Deathwind would have been proud to see Grimm reforging the horde with his old banner. But more importantly, Grimm wondered what he would have thought to see his old pupil grow even greater than he so quickly.
“For the Grim Tide!” Grimm yelled, as the remains of the camelot guard tower fell. This was the first blow of many he would lay upon camelot, as he reclaimed the soil of the land - and to hell with what Thrall would say!
The sound of metal smashing bone uncomfortably close to Grimm’s position broke him out of his reverie, and he turned back to see the source of the noise. His elite guard should have kept his opponents firmly-
“You!” Doomtusk snarled, as he took in the image before him. A knight on horseback stood before him, immaculate armor on both her and her horse. The corpses of two of his best men, and the blood and matted hair still hanging off the human warrior’s warhammer.
“Grimm Doomtusk. Where is your master?”
“Aeris… some fool summoned you, too?” Doomtusk growled. A knight of her caliber would be… problematic. “You’re outnumbered, fool. In only a minute, my best men will be here to attend me, and you, soon after, will be very dead.” Doomtusk replied, before drawing a long spear from his back, a black, metal weapon with a teardrop-shaped tip.
“Then I guess I’ll have to make this quick, now won’t I/” Aeris replied, before rushing her warhorse forward. “Back to the hells you crawled from, Orc!”
“Terrible choice of last words, Human!” Grimm screamed back, before raising his spear.
The place was Green, from it’s elegant meadows, to its lush forests, to the plains that seem to stretch on forever. Even the castles of the realm integrated the greenery, rather than being places of purely stone. What the realm of camelot may have lacked in technological function or advanced transportation, as the empire could boast, it made up for in sheer, simple, natural beauty.
Fitting, Grimm Doomtusk thought to himself, that all that was left in his wake was a burning expanse of blackened, charred expanses of grassland, near the keep his band had pillaged. It was as though he was repainting the kingdom in his own colors. Grimm held up his hand, hoisting the newly fashioned flag of his warband.
Once, these colors stood for someone Grimm believed would fashion the next era of the horde. Now, as the black-and-red banner of flame and Axe stood high into the air of the kingdom of Camelot, Grimm smiled as he thought of his old mentor. For a mage, he’d known everything Grimm had ever learned about tactics… including how to forge his own.
He wondered if Deathwind would have been proud to see Grimm reforging the horde with his old banner. But more importantly, Grimm wondered what he would have thought to see his old pupil grow even greater than he so quickly.
“For the Grim Tide!” Grimm yelled, as the remains of the camelot guard tower fell. This was the first blow of many he would lay upon camelot, as he reclaimed the soil of the land - and to hell with what Thrall would say!
The sound of metal smashing bone uncomfortably close to Grimm’s position broke him out of his reverie, and he turned back to see the source of the noise. His elite guard should have kept his opponents firmly-
“You!” Doomtusk snarled, as he took in the image before him. A knight on horseback stood before him, immaculate armor on both her and her horse. The corpses of two of his best men, and the blood and matted hair still hanging off the human warrior’s warhammer.
“Grimm Doomtusk. Where is your master?”
“Aeris… some fool summoned you, too?” Doomtusk growled. A knight of her caliber would be… problematic. “You’re outnumbered, fool. In only a minute, my best men will be here to attend me, and you, soon after, will be very dead.” Doomtusk replied, before drawing a long spear from his back, a black, metal weapon with a teardrop-shaped tip.
“Then I guess I’ll have to make this quick, now won’t I/” Aeris replied, before rushing her warhorse forward. “Back to the hells you crawled from, Orc!”
“Terrible choice of last words, Human!” Grimm screamed back, before raising his spear.