Eternal Requiem
Chapter 1: The Waltz Begins
"Ready your bows and wait for my command."
The drums of war have sounded once again, thought to have been silenced forever. War has laid its blanket amongst the denizens of Azeroth. Destruction ensues, chaos reigns, and no one can escape the inevitable.
"Fire!"
Arrows flew past the mighty, exotic oaks. Whizzing through the air, making their mark, striking their targets down. Many were felled, only five remained. From the brush emerged many hunters, heavily equipt with bows and black mail armor. Their races were of dwarves and night elves. They moved in on the five with their swords ready for the kill. But kill, they did not. Instead, they seized the foes' weapons, leaving them cuffed and defenseless. Among the captured were two humans, a gnome and dwarf, and two night elves.
From the brush where the hunters emerged, another came. This one was a night elf, donned with blue mail, also equipt with a bow and two nicely crafted blades. He beared a tabard across his chest piece, blue with the symbol of a white dragon. He walked before the seized, and glanced them from head to toe. Standing before one of the night elves, he spoke.
"You can not imagine the delight I feel now, foolish Tuvyn." he laughed. "Too long have I watched you, waiting for you to slip."
He turned his head to one of his attendants.
"Status report?" he asked.
"All marked targets have been eliminated and the camp has been taken for the Empire." said the attendant.
Again he turned to Tuvyn.
"Tuvyn, son of Quillian, as Arbiter Lithius, I place you under arrest in the name of the Grand Requiem Empire. And as Arbiter, I sentence you and your men to immediate execution in the halls of Stormwind Keep on charge of treason against the Emperor, rebellion against his laws, and defending the Horde in battle against the Empire. What say you in defense?"
Tuvyn spit in front of Lithius, then looked at him with hateful eyes.
"Your Empire will never remain absolute, not so long as I draw breath!" he exclaimed.
Lithius let out a hardy laugh, holding his gut in his fit of glee.
"You see, that is why you must be executed." Lithius chuckled. "Foolish Tuvyn, the Empire shall live on through the ages. And even if it ever does fall, Pantheons forbid, you shall not live to see that day."
Slapping Tuvyn to the ground, Lithius turned away and looked to his men.
"I want these traitors shipped to Stormwind in no more than three days." ordered Lithius. "They shall be executed on the dawn of the fourth day. Take this camp and all its supplies. They belong to the Empire now, so I want to see them sent to Ironforge as soon as possible. All others off duty will come with me back to the outpost."
And so Lithius made his leave with those men he ordered to come with him. The remaining hunters took their new prisoners and supplies, loaded them on their mounts of rams and sabers, and made their way out of Stranglethorn Vale and into Duskwood, where they would they enter Elwynn Forest and enter Stormwind City.
For ten years the Alliance has been an empire, the Grand Requiem Empire. Under the rule of one emperor, the Empire has succeeded in taking full control of Northern Kalimdor and most of Azeroth, branded under the name of the emperor himself. Never before has the world seen such a power as that of the Grand Requiem Empire.
The emperor responsible for this is Emperor Darithal, a night elf who once fought alongside Illidan. While Illidan was sentenced to rot in his underground prison with the Wardens, Darithal was exiled to the Twisting Nether itself, doomed to be forever tortured by the demons that reside there. But, like Illidan, he too escaped his entrapment and soon forged an Empire between the humans of Stormwind, dwarves of Ironforge, gnomes of Gnomeragan, and night elves of Darnassus. Though unexplained, Darithal has forever had a passionate hate for the Horde, and has quietly declared a full-scale war on them and their allies. While the great majority of the Alliance agreed to becoming an empire under Darithal's rule, there were others who sided with the Horde in order to return the Alliance back to its "former glory". To keep his empire in line, Darithal has designated certain power to an elite force of men whom he has fought alongside for many years, of whom he calls his "Arbiters". These warriors each control a battalion of over a thousand men, ready to obey the will of Darithal without hesitation or denial.
Meanwhile the Horde, clever though they may be, are completely oblivious to the rising power taking hold over the world. But soon they shall see what true war is. Soon they will all know their eternal requiem...
