Death Squad of Witch Hunters...Ooul's Task
Posted: Sun Jan 18, 2015 12:07 pm
Three Witch Hunters were on the prowl in in Nordenwatch, looking for Destruction. They dressed in matching chaos black regalia so that all knew they were special. The Witch Hunters would stealth into the fray, often a fearsome cluster swords, shields, and spells, yet remain unscathed, for they had three Order healers constantly dedicated to keeping their adrenaline flowing. With such aide, they were unstoppable, and their blades and bullets perforated the bodies hundreds of Destruction’s warriors over the course of the day.
Ooul the Chosen sat on the back of his mount near the Chaos landing in Nordenwatch, helpless to stop the deaths of so many of his comrades. What could one Chosen do against such an overwhelming strategy? He had seen it before—the point of a spear that never dulls is infallible.
“Message for you, sir,” a servant obsequiously said to Ooul, placing it in his hands. Ooul nodded at the servant, and read the message, which said that a Kralf Hexenkrieger, a well-connected Magus with actual ties to Tchar’zanek, wished to speak with him. Not being one to shirk such a request, Ooul boarded a ship bound for the coast.
“You are Ooul the Chosen, yes?” Kralf Hexenkrieger asked. “The same Chosen who killed a lone Ironbreaker in Renatta’s lair yesterday?”
“I am,” Ooul stated.
“Your actions have cost many lives this day, Ooul,” Kralf Hexenkrieger said. “The black-clad Witch Hunters on Nordenwatch Isle are a death-squad from a far-off land. They have come HERE because YOU killed a powerful leader of Order yesterday. The leader’s Lieutenants summoned the death-squad to our part of the world to wreak havoc upon everyone you ever cared for or allied with, be they stranger or guildmate.”
Upon hearing Kralf’s claims, Ooul was shaken to his core. Ooul growled in anger, “That single Dwarf could not have been so powerful. He was not a god! When I hit him, he crumpled like a tin toy! He didn’t even lift a finger to fight back! He was defeated by his own hubris!”
“He has become a martyr to them,” the Magus explained. “But know this: there is a power void left by his demise. There are plots against his followers, and much in-fighting going on among his highest officers. Order will fail, because it still governed by human nature. As you know, we of Destruction revel in our willfulness while Order believes such feelings to be beneath them.”
“They are weak,” Ooul concluded. “Summoning a death-squad of black-clad Witch Hunters is merely another form of whining on their part.”
“Exactly,” Kralf Hexenkrieger declared decisively. “It shows that they are becoming increasingly desperate to find a reason to continue fighting. Your mission, Ooul, is to spread the word of this among our troops.”
“I am honored,” Ooul placed his mailed fist on his chest and bowing slightly. He knew that the Dwarf he had slaughtered two days ago had placed a curse on him. Resorting to such tactics was truly a sign of madness on the part of the enemy. Ooul smiled.
Ooul the Chosen sat on the back of his mount near the Chaos landing in Nordenwatch, helpless to stop the deaths of so many of his comrades. What could one Chosen do against such an overwhelming strategy? He had seen it before—the point of a spear that never dulls is infallible.
“Message for you, sir,” a servant obsequiously said to Ooul, placing it in his hands. Ooul nodded at the servant, and read the message, which said that a Kralf Hexenkrieger, a well-connected Magus with actual ties to Tchar’zanek, wished to speak with him. Not being one to shirk such a request, Ooul boarded a ship bound for the coast.
“You are Ooul the Chosen, yes?” Kralf Hexenkrieger asked. “The same Chosen who killed a lone Ironbreaker in Renatta’s lair yesterday?”
“I am,” Ooul stated.
“Your actions have cost many lives this day, Ooul,” Kralf Hexenkrieger said. “The black-clad Witch Hunters on Nordenwatch Isle are a death-squad from a far-off land. They have come HERE because YOU killed a powerful leader of Order yesterday. The leader’s Lieutenants summoned the death-squad to our part of the world to wreak havoc upon everyone you ever cared for or allied with, be they stranger or guildmate.”
Upon hearing Kralf’s claims, Ooul was shaken to his core. Ooul growled in anger, “That single Dwarf could not have been so powerful. He was not a god! When I hit him, he crumpled like a tin toy! He didn’t even lift a finger to fight back! He was defeated by his own hubris!”
“He has become a martyr to them,” the Magus explained. “But know this: there is a power void left by his demise. There are plots against his followers, and much in-fighting going on among his highest officers. Order will fail, because it still governed by human nature. As you know, we of Destruction revel in our willfulness while Order believes such feelings to be beneath them.”
“They are weak,” Ooul concluded. “Summoning a death-squad of black-clad Witch Hunters is merely another form of whining on their part.”
“Exactly,” Kralf Hexenkrieger declared decisively. “It shows that they are becoming increasingly desperate to find a reason to continue fighting. Your mission, Ooul, is to spread the word of this among our troops.”
“I am honored,” Ooul placed his mailed fist on his chest and bowing slightly. He knew that the Dwarf he had slaughtered two days ago had placed a curse on him. Resorting to such tactics was truly a sign of madness on the part of the enemy. Ooul smiled.
