The Sun was gone, it's light had been blocked by thick cloud cover, but nows true night had come and the darkness became far more intense. Patrick the Pure was not concerned about the Darkness, he had fought, ate and slept in darkness much worse. Even thinking about it he wondered if he could sleep, or get some of his favorite food from his favorite yellow Murloc, that would make his night. Still opposite of Patrick the angry mustache guy, Volkbar... Volnut, Voldemort... whatever his name was Patrick liked being around the guy but certainly the guy was a bit meaner than most of Patrick's friends.
Still the rest of the Alliance was agreeing with the guy and Patrick couldn't blame them, he just hoped that they didn't hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. But in this situation Patrick knew that no matter what innocent people would get hurt, either physically or mentally, it was all just really sad really, but that's why he had to fight, so it would all end faster.
All around Patrick the Alliance's Footmen gathered and prepared, but Patrick could see it in all their eyes. These men were tired even with the few hours rest and the Alliance Priests supporting them the Horde's warriors had beds and kitchens full of yummy food waiting for them in Brill. The Horde would have more energy reserves for this fight. And because of that the Alliance was resorting to burning Brill, something Patrick didn't like but at the same time he didn't want to see these Footmen die because they were too tired to win against a Orc in melee.
"I hope the Light guide you and help you through every step." Patrick intoned to the gathered Footmen around him, they were too tired, too grim to give anything more than curt nods and soft-spoken replies. Everyone was prepared and now waiting for the signal to attack where they would then assault the city. From what he was told flairs would light the battlefield so that way the archers could shoot their arrows with accuracy and the first flair would signal the attack.
"Umm, remember everyone stick close to me and I'll protect all of you. You all just focus on doing your jobs and I'll fight the big guys." Patrick stated, he had fought plenty of undead before including a skeleton giant he was confident that he could keep at very least those closest to him alive long enough to see the next morning.
Then all at once two things happened, the flairs launched into the air, three flairs stretching across the entire line lighting all the space between the army and Brill, and lighting up the streets so brightly it may as well have been mid day. At the same time, the Undead silent and concealed by the darkness and a thin disruptive but nearly unnoticeable mist rose from their crouched positions half way between the Alliance and Brill and let loose with war horns which bellowed with the sounds of deathly screams.
The Undead then charged, while the Alliance, surprised but already in battle order swiftly adjusted to meet the unexpected attack head on as skeletal warriors rushed forward with the ghosts of the damned supported them and rising from Brill flocks of bats, their numbers truly mind boggling surged forth to race to the battle.
And for Patrick he could already see them, the spots of deepest darkness among his enemies, Draenei that defied everything he knew about the good natured race and instead of being blue were a paleish white, and who seemed to look on at the Alliance troops as if they were appraising food. Around these creatures the spirits were thickest, the mist its most disruptive and the savagery of these Undead the most noticeable.
It was here with these not-Draenei that Patrick knew that the fate of the battle, and his own fate now lay. And Patrick would meet this date with all the good nature and strength he could muster. Now was the time to make his values the most obvious, and so Patrick smiled and let loose his fiercest warcry that he had once made himself as he charged to meet the on rushing tide of the Undead. "Leedle Leedle LEE!"
Aleksandr seethed his bloodlust flaring yet he remained back away from where all the blood was soon to be spilled. War was the domain of the Vampire, blood sustained them, death was their servant its power theirs to command. And yet Aleksandr was both denied the glories of battle and simultaneously left nervous only watching as his creations, his children, risked themselves in this glorious field of battle.
Tarei and her siblings in death marched upon the unsuspecting Alliance. While certainly the living fools tried to prepare their trickery, his own forces performed his own treachery, they crawled forth covered by the darkness and his magics. While the act of creating each of his children had drained Aleksandr, each act agonizing as these Draenei were a Sun Blessed race who carried sunlight itself within their veins, his pride in his creations justified the current weakness. And despite his current weakness Aleksandr still leads his armies, his will beyond their ability to deny. Of course his forces were also bolstered by the corpses of this world, not only those Knights foolish enough to face his children who now shambled in his Zombie Horde, but after dispatching a defiant Corpse-man who tried to resist his will he also emptied the meager graveyard of its few dead creating a horde of zombies and an formation of skeletons to allow his forces to match the hundreds of living soldiers.
The dead of this world were an enjoyably frustrating puzzle, their souls seemed to be missing, and Aleksandr's will could not call upon them, yet spirits still flocked to Tarei, and the flesh was so inviting to Aleksandr's will as if it begged for a master to take it and make it into whatever they so desired. While it took some more Dhar to call upon forgotten memories that all were likely from others that had little to do with the corpses Aleksandr now puppeteered they still shambled with weapons drawn and utilizing these skills their master had stolen from the past.
And yet these Forsaken Undead, certainly they possessed souls a sense of self on par with a wight. How did they capture the souls they so needed to create their needlessly free will infested undead? Why did any of them follow this Banshee Queen with such devotion when there were no bonds of blood, nor the binds of master and servant? It was of no matter though only a fleeting fancy of the moment, after all the greater concern was proving the value of his newest children to Manfred, even if they could not become recognized heirs to the Von Carstein throne their acceptance into the family ranks would bolster both the Counts of Sylvania and Aleksandr's position for centuries more
"Yes my children once you reach the edge of the lights of these fools camp let loose your bloodlust!" Aleksandr excitedly whispered, his will carrying his words to each of the seven Shuk'tar Vampires leading his assault, Tarei at the center drawn to snuff out some 'light' that Aleksandr could not perceive. Still Aleksandr now waited, his flocks of bats, both those taken from this world and drawn from his aviary in his fortress, all left thirsting for blood and bound to his will.
Soon the slaughter would begin and Aleksandr bared his fangs in anticipation. The moment would soon come that this pathetic assault, a measley few hundred perhaps fewer than four hundred , which was leaving the Horde in a panic would be broken and left as nothing but food to power his Children's ascension to glory. The fools blinded themselves via their own Torchlight, but even if the weaklings had chosen to accept the darkness, it would have availed them not for the night was the domain of the Vampire and none could hide from their senses. They were entirely blind to the approach of Aleksandr's forces and soon would be broken by their own vain foolishness.
But then something that Aleksandr could not understand happened. Three stars launched from the ground, their light as powerful as daylight ascended from the enemy camp lighting up the fields. In the same instant his children cast aside their caution, horns bellowed forth his disdain for these worthless living animals and his army rose to their feet to charge into the enemy's now illuminated ranks. Rows of enemy soldiers were shocked as the Undead rose to their feet before them, yet they were so disciplined that despite the surprise their ranks neither froze in uncertain bearing, nor did they break their formations attempting to needlessly respond to the presence of unexpected enemies. Instead those troops vulnerable to the might of Aleksandr's legion retreated to the rears while those troops of former stature stepped forth to fill the gaps of the enemy formations.
With a snarl Aleksandr swept his hand forth sending his bloodthirsty flocks forth, their wing, fang and fur would shield his children allowing the Vampires to lay into the foe with impunity. Along all fronts his army rushed forth and met the enemy. zombies threw their body weight into the waiting ranks of their foe while arms grabbing whatever weapons Aleksandr would allow them continued to swing wildly at the foe in a clumsy manner. While ineffectual and easily dispatched by these living humans the zombies distracted them from the true threats.
While simple the Skeletons Aleksandr puppeteered still struck with far greater precision and with vestiges of skill taken from warriors long past. The enemy seemed more accustomed to facing these sort of foes but their arrogance would be their downfall. Wherever Aleksandr's Shuk'tar and Wights strode the enemy lines buckled and threatened to collapse. The clash was only seconds in and Aleksandr already considered how to address hunting down his fleeing foes. But then a pulse, no multiple simultaneous pulses of golden light spread across the enemy.
In his weakened state from creating and soul binding each of his children, Aleksandr surely would have been harmed by any one of those lights. And indeed many of the undead slaves collapsed, his grip on their flesh broken at least for the moment. But this power, this was the same blasted sunlight which traveled through the veins of his spawn before he had freed them of that... complication. Still that remnant of their former existence inoculated the Shuk'tar from this light, while burning them Aleksandr could feel their hunger surge, demanding to be fed from the blood of his enemies. Wight Grave Guard were damaged by the light but those that escaped the harm surged forward with their masters, blades cleaving through armor, using skills honed from a lifetime of war and centuries of service under the Von Carsteins.
And soon the Invocation of Nehek took hold and the enemy would now begin to pay for their hubris. While their power was beyond what Aleksandr expected truly putting him off kilter it was nothing that the power and ancient skills of the Vampires could not overcome, not when they used his well prepared and long since put into practice strategies.
A rotted corpse roared into Medwin's face only to then crumple from an hammer stroke to its face. The Alliance Footman felt the burn in his arm, his muscles already aching after only several minutes of fighting. He'd be refreshed soon enough, but these Undead were something else, entirely mindless, heedless of any damage they may receive and while far from a threat they were certainly tiring to fight against. Still now the Alliance was already making good headway over these Undead. Medwin honestly had to question what was the point of these creatures, every report of the Scourge and Forsaken that had ever been read to him both as a child and later upon joining the military presented the undead as a crafty force of ceaseless plots and dark masters seeking to claim the greatest warriors, these though were things lesser than even an animal.
But still these Undead fought with nothing held back, and their presence was exhausting, their smell disturbed Medwin's stomach, and their relentless nature was just as frustrating. But while these undead threw themselves at the lines of the Third Company they had yet to do more than gouge the eye of one of the men near Medwin something that would likely at most put the man out of the fight for maybe a few hours while under the care of a priest, fully healing a eye wound was usually more complex than a cut neck or clearly severed hand.
Next to Medwin one of the Third Company veterans laughed. "Man these things take me back to the Scourge, wasn't in the third war, but we had a few moments like this, some of my older friends said that before the Forsaken arrived the Scourge were a lot more like this. By Tyr's hand! I'm glad the third was never called to Northrend." As the grey bearded veteran laughed he used both hands on his shield to push against the mob of undead trying to claw and stab at him with fingers, knives, swords, and crude farming tools. Medwin shuddered at the thought of the Horde embracing Scourge style tactics, but then dismissed the thought.
All they had to do was get close enough to launch both fire arrows and arrows carrying jars of oil into the town and victory would be theirs. Even as the thought passed through Medwin's mind a excited whoop came from behind him as Brook losed a arrow into one of the undead just before a pulse of golden light surrounded Medwin and all those near him shielding them and refreshing his strength while surprisingly causing those undead right in front of him to collapse almost like a puppet that had been dropped.
A cheer then spread through the Footmen as they all pressed forward meeting another rank of undead and swiftly plowing through them gaining several yards in seconds. But just as confidence overtook Medwin, a series of screams came from his right and looking over the Footman could see a massive Draenei holding a Footman up to his mouth as he bit into the man's neck. "It seems there was a Draenei corpse added to this horde of undead!" A Footman shouted just before the Dreanai pulled back from his victim with a fanged grin, blood running down its chin.
"Ahhh, yesssss, I needed that! Now let's set to work!" The Draenei suddenly roared with a dark chuckle. The massive beast, then pulled a purple crystalline blade from a seeth that seemed to drip with both old blood and a dark aura. This creature was certainly not anything like the Draenei that Medwin knew, and the only others he could think of were the Eredar, yet even that didn't seem to match this creature. But these thoughts were cut short as power seemed to pulse through the creature as it set into battle and then a burning pain stabbed up Medwin's leg.
Looking down Medwin was greeted by the sight of the Undead that he and his allies had dispatched earlier somehow pulling themselves back together, heads reattaching to necks, and hands mending back into arms in a crude parody of healing. And as these old foes returned to their unlife one had taken a dagger and plunged it into the back of Medwin's leg. Others then began grabbing at the Footmen around them or swinging their blades all while a massive swarm of bats came down from the skies their claws and teeth attempting to reach past the armored soldiers to tear into their flesh.
blinded by bats, with undead stabbing at and grabbing his legs, and more pressing against him, Medwin's heart raced. The thump of his heart beat though could not drown the pained cries and panicked shouts of those all around him as confusion took over the Alliance lines, the enemy were beneath them, what about behind, what was that monster tearing into their ranks, where was that monster tearing into them, were they all about to die?
"Hold! By the Light, Hold!" A singular voice cut through the din and confusion as light nearly blinded Medwin and then suddenly the bats were screeching and backing away allowing Medwin to strike at the undead at his feet while protecting himself from those ahead of him. The voice of the Paladin who had saved him still repeating his line as the Paladin rushed down the line with two others of his order their destination obvious. The monsterous Draenei had almost broken through the Third's line entirely while the Skeletons closest to it were forcing open a path through the Footmen. If they succeeded there was no doubt the undead would certainly destroy their camp behind them and encircle the Alliance warriors killing them all gradually in the process.
The three paladins closed on the beast, their leader wearing the bronze, white, gold and black of the Argent Crusade, while the two at his side wore the silver and blue of the Silver Hand. And thanks to the simplicity of Medwin's foes gifted the Footman just enough freedom to glance down as the Paladin's came to meet their foe. "Halt, we will be your foe. By the Light, now you shall face your end, or find your salvation."
Across from the Paladins the monster not-Draenei laughed. "Look, the young worshipers of Light have come to deny me. I've seen Light wielders of vastly more talent, and fought alongside them, learning their ways. I almost was thinking I should try to join their ranks, but now I've been shown the better way, unfortunately I have no intent on sharing that path with you!" The monster's laughter descended into a bloodthirsty growl as he then stepped forward throwing himself at the three Paladins.
As the Light's power struck out against the Undead, strengthening and empowering it's champions while harming their twisted foe, Medwin focused more on his own fight for survival, while few the undead in among their ranks were disruptive and for some reason refused to remain dead, putting heads back on their shoulders where dark energies sealed the connection, and flesh stitching back together without healing. The ones before Medwin were crude, easy opponents, but their numbers never seemed to end as dark power prevented all but the most severe of blows from remaining a hindrance to these undead. And to make things worse, one of the Footmen next to Medwin died, his body dropping only to begin twitching and moving in crude, highly uncoordinated jerky movements as the corpse was filled with a dark power raising one of Medwin's few comrades to die by the enemy's hand to rise as one of the undead himself.
Acting quick Medwin brought his hammer down on the man's head, allowing the shambling corpse enemy a chance to strike him from both ahead and behind as Medwin hammered the man's helmeted skull until the helmet contorted and flatted stopping the corpse from moving ever again. However this allowed small cuts to accumulate on Medwin, bringing him to grunt in pain, but fellow Footmen pushed forward pulling Medwin back into the Third Company's ranks allowing the soldier a chance to heal himself.
While downing a healing potion and stomping on the skull of one of the dead as the creature tried to will itself back to unlife and violent action, Medwin watched the nearby battle. Thanks to magic and some arrows the Third Company were making good headway against the corpse-army however their progress was much slower than before, and further down the battle lines things seemed to be perhaps in worse states for the Third as not only bats but some form of specters were attacking and elsewhere skeletons seemed to fight with far more skill than their corpse counterparts. Additionally Medwin could see that in reality almost all this clash hinged on the three Paladins fighting against the monster Draenei and its armored skeletal minions.
The Argent Crusader was clashing with the undead monster before him while the two Silver Hand Paladins matched the skeletal warriors. The Light burned the undead while it roared, its sword pounding down against the Crusader's hammer. Even as the pair fought darkness gathered about the undead, spectral beings and bats came to its side ghostly hands and bat claws lashed out at the Crusader while the undead backed away now changing targets to the Silver Hand Paladins.
Medwin was distracted for only a moment, checking his part of the battle lines and shouting basic encouragement to the Footmen at the front as they fought the lone priest in their section no longer healing them due to their own exhaustion and needing a few minutes to regain their composure. Yet in that moment the clash with the Paladins changed entirely. The undead Draenei had used some dark magic to bolster itself, weaving between the sword strikes of one of the Silver Hands before impaling the Paladin and then ripping off the Paladin with a monster like claw that it then used to throw the head away.
Down to two opponents the undead monstrosity then fought the two paladin survivors at once. Its claw waring off the golden glow of the Argent Crusader's hammer while it's sword matched blow for blow against the pike of the last Silver Hand. However while the power of the Light was immense, against the sheer numbers of bats and spirits aiding the monster set against the Paladins the pair couldn't keep up for long. The pike over extended in a thrust, the Hammer was not fast enough to aid their comrade, and in a instant the Silver Hand was cut in half the strength of this monster well beyond that of a Draenei. It then grabbed one of the body halves and threw it into the Argent Crusader distracting him long enough for it to thrust its blade through the body and into the Crusader's heart.
Medwin roared in loss and rage seeing the monster's victory take place. many of those not fighting also shouted in anguish or outrage. Yet it was Medwin that the beast's eyes suddenly fixated on. Medwin could feel himself freeze, those eyes, there was something about them, so deep and endless, like eternal pools filled with endless hunger, endless wisdom, and...
"Medwin!" The monster was standing right before Medwin, looming over the Footman glaring down at him with its entirely unnatural arm pulled back ready to strike and kill the man in a single moment. A path of corpses, seven Footmen who had all been in this monstrosity's path to Medwin lay creating a stream of blood that flowed down the slope towards Brill below.
Yet it was not Medwin the blow was destined for. Instead Brook dove between the young Footman and the monster, her two hands swinging a jar nearly half her torso in size up at the beast. As the claw came down shattering both the jar and Brook's breastplate oil sprayed forth, some splattering onto Medwin and Brook but almost all the rest dousing the monster, even as Brook's shattered body was thrown several feet away.
Medwin swung his hammer but the beast deflected the blow with a laugh. "Pathetic. Were you mortals always this weak? Of course I must have been too much of a bleeding heart to have seen the difference between us, but now I'm stronger than I ever was before. Prey like you should learn your place!"
A whistle stopped the coming blow as it was followed by a rasp from the familiar voice of Brook. "H-hey...ugly... m-maybe try thinking... for once." Brook gasped out, sitting up holding her bow while breathing heavily, still somehow drawing a single flaming arrow from her awkward position and releasing her shot as the monster glared at her.
The beast tried to move, but Medwin acted quickly using both hands and his Hammer to snag the not-Draenei's neck holding it in place for the half a second needed for the arrow to impact and bounce off the thing's armor. Yet while the arrowhead did not penetrate, the damage was still done, small flames ignited burning Medwin as he fell away from the monster. But for it, entirely soaked in oil, that was all it needed for the beast to turn into a burning conflagration.
The monster roared arms flailing, as another Footman rushed forward with a spear striking the beast and sending it tumbling back into its own lines. The fire so great that any of the corpses even close to it soon also caught fire. And yet despite the flames the creature still roared, flexing dark powers to try and sustain itself against the flames, but whatever evil fueled it, it was simply not enough against the power of the flames that consumed the monster.
As the monster stumbled and rolled down slope the priest set about dousing the fire on Medwin healing the Footman enough to keep Medwin from dying, before moving on to the broken form of Brook. Her appearance was one enough to give Medwin horrified pause, her breastplate had truly shattered, five gouged holes bleed profusely from her sternum and her arm looked out of place so broken by the impact of the monster's attack. She almost looked like one of the corpse-warriors of the enemy, she shambled like them too. And then Medwin screamed, tears rolling and the Priest and a spare Footman set about putting down Brook, her reward for her final act in life being to defeat that monster being little more than a prayer and a swift decapitation.
Aleksandr roared as his connection was severed, he could feel the final moment of his creation, see the fire from the outskirts of Brill and knew precisely what had happened. How dare they, how could these lesser serfs deign to strike down one of his children? While some of the power Aleksandr had used to form his binding with his creation returned to him, it was nowhere enough to soothe the pain of loss. Nay it only fueled the rage building like a forest blaze in the Vampire Lord's heart.
This Horde, these pathetic mortals, this Azeroth, none of it was worth the existence of a single one of his precious creations! This entire world deserves nothing but to suffer it's end by his hands. But for now, the battle and Aleksandr's honor needed to continue, he needed to prove his worth to Manfred and still the bounty of this world was truly enough as long as he could provide the evidence to his liege in the Night Court then he could proceed. Still Aleksandr contemplated summoning back each of his remaining spawn, though he knew Tarei would spite the order, even from here he could feel her dark elation as her shadow clashed with a light that eclipsed any priest Aleksandr had battled before.
The stench of rat fur alerted Aleksandr of the arrival of a most unwelcome guest, pulling the Vampire Lord from his thoughts. "Yes-yes, kill-kill! The tunnel is starting soon, hold much longer now yes!"
The petty rat who called itself a 'Grey Seer' this Thanquol stated. Aleksandr could smell the I'll will radiating from this thing, it was almost certain there was some other angle this rat was also playing at, Skaven were always duplicitous at the best of times. "Thou should remember, mine army may choose to leave you as I deign at any time, Skaven. My children and slaves stay here only because I say so."
Another, a little servant of a Corpse-man who thought himself something more than a peasant spoke up thinking itself worthy of speaking to one of Aleksandr's countenance. "We have begun the tunnels, if you hold for most of the night we should be able to flank the Alliance forces while saving a good portion of the Horde's fighting strength in Brill."
"I care not for your Horde. Mine honor and ambitions lead me to this place, thus I find nothing of value here besides your meager offering for mine services. If you have nothing of worth to offer begin servant!" It took far too much self control for Aleksandr to not roar in this upstarts face, or tear it to shreds for the impertinence. Could it not see the anguish he was suffering? Was it truly as self absorbed as the pathetic rat who dared think itself to be his equal?
"Yes and I was hoping to see, Great Aleksandr. What would the great Counts of Sylvania desire to gain from the Horde certainly we have plenty we could offer." The Corpse-man spoke again.
This only caused Aleksandr to seethe, could the Horde give them the Von Carsteins blood right to rule the Empire? Did the Horde know all the secrets to Necromancy laid out in each of the writings of Nagash? Could the Horde grant them endless dominion over all? They dared suggest they had the power to just give the Von Carsteins what they wanted, if it wasn't for the fact that this Horde might make for a useful pawn to Manfred Aleksandr was already tempted to refute and deny these lesser beings entirely.
But for now he had a battle to focus on. Where his poor child burned already his army was being pushed back. And from what Aleksandr now knew the enemy plan was, tonight would be the last night of Brill as this pathetic town would soon be caught in the conflagration and left as little more than ash. "You can tell thine Masters, all I desire is revenge for how these Alliance had laid to spite mine honor." With that the rat and Corpse-man looked to one another, shrugged and left Aleksandr to focus his dark powers, he would make this final night one of blood.
Reviews:
Guest 1: "Bitch don't tell me what to do!" -Mr Popo.
Guest 2: Honestamente, no, no juego Genshin Impact al principio cuestioné si era un juego de gotcha y no vi ninguna característica de RPG. desde entonces he estado interesado, pero simplemente no he sabido lo suficiente si el juego está interesado. sin embargo, he visto algunos videos de lore.
Guest 3: They further off since I haven't dragged Lustria into the current affairs,
Guest 4: I should be of two minds on the thing, but the Woke crowd basically have by their interactions with other fandoms in the past, told me more than enough to know this is bad on all fronts. Because the Femstodies as a Retcon (If GW could stop being assholes to their own fans for five fucking minutes) isn't bad IF the female Custodes are sterile. Which well Wokies will lose their god-damned minds if that's a thing, I mean they attacked Scarlett Johanson, the actress, over the fact that Black Widow was sterilized as part of her intense assassination training dark background. and the whole sterile thing would be ABSOLUTELY necessary for the female Custodes to exist as that is the reason there are no female space Marines, because fertile, independent breeding transhumans are a threat to the Imperium and to the Emperor's vision for humanity, and thus why he doesn't make female anything transhuman. but of course the whole thing isn't about the lore in the slightest, it's about appeasing Marxist bankers and Amazon.
Dragon King of the West: More the question is who is more effective.
OscuroSignore-51: Certainly one of those yes-no situations, are they begging for it by having a culture that outright praises the most ambitious and least cautious of their kind? There's no doubt about it, but they don't deserve anything to the degree that they're likely to suffer if things continue to spiral in this story.
We can also assume that even if they haven't faced them directly they probably learned from veterans facing the Scourge and well, for how much of a moronic attempt at suicide Arthas "grand plan" was the Alliance and Horde were almost worse if only for the arrogance they approached the entire war with ... they legit took the time to arrange a tournament not for troop moral but to settle grudges with each other.
And sadly here's a hint for the next bit, Valkia hasn't tried crossing the portal yet.
BloodRedRoses11: So Dragon flight, while I DO NOT want to blame feminism on this one, I have heard the argument frequently that all her entire drama with Alexstrasa was just a petty woman's squabble and she didn't actually hold any conviction in her side, orrr in less complementary words "Woman Dragon no can be evil because woman inherently good, only men can be evil." But I just chalk it up to Blizzard being Blizzard and being absolute shit at creating reasons for people actually to change sides since they never want their characters to ever actually undergo character growth... and seeing that their studio's fan base are blind zealots who will waste 80 dollars per skin and think they're getting some elite benefit for something lower quality than what I got for free on Helldivers 2 or Renegade X: Firestorm... yeah Blizzard is just a lazy company with horrible team direction and mid tier writers at best, and all you needed to know THAT was check their quantity of HR staff and HR equivalent managers, plus "community Managers" to actual developer ratio, anything resembling good writing is going to be committeed out of existence before it even finishes the first draft.
Because on top of the above, Blizzard is more addicted to lazy tropes than GW and EA combined. and the "Shifts back to human" trope is both horrifically overused and still a great narrative tool so of course horrifically overused means Blizzard needs to be exceptional in overusing it, and they'll pat themselves on the back because when used right it's an amazing story telling tool.
Missed that part but that's because I don't care, the hippie vagabonds can stay living as Gypsies for all eternity for all I care.
Ravenguard0009: Though by your own thing, it's not a bad idea and everything was laid out for him, and the Alliance aren't too stuck up their "moral" bums smelling their own farts to fail to recognize a good idea when they see one, SI:7 exists after all, and if your going to have a MI:6/KGB/CIA organization in your fictional Empire, you clearly are ok with commiting amoral acts for the good of your Empire...or just being scum in general especially when the leader of said organization is openly trusted by the Crown...It's like trusting Hellsing Ultimate Alucard and giving him direct orders, you can't then turn around and pretend to be more pure than Princess Twilight Sparkle after that.
That said obviously the Church of the Light is going to take up their own issue with particular tactics unless they're the ones doing it and for the Naaru... otherwise anyone else doing it is wrong and bad.
JiggyliFAP: Lol I get the "I forgot part" also bad Jiggli don't point out to Lizardmen fans that they're faction is basically the lamest faction of 40K but "worse", bad. ;) I have a bunch of Tyranid fan friends (all of them women weirdly enough) and they all hate that I prefer the Genestealer cults and think the Nids need to have a personality. Of course I accuse them of abusing their pets if they think animals don't have personalities, so it's this spiraling joke that's lead to PETA attempting to assassinate out pets.
Yes but as "pure" constructs of the light, that suddenly have a "void phase" why then doesn't ANYONE ELSE have a equivalent cycle that allows them to conveniently shrug off all responsibility for their shitty actions and pretend they have a "weakness" that runs off pure plot contrivance. The Titans are "PURE" Arcane, the Naaru are "PURE" Light, yet both flip to their exact opposite fairly easily all things considered, and they're given a free pass as if they're somehow uncorruptible or "it's super rare" 1/5th of all Titans falling to Fel, and basically every other Naaru to Void isn't pure or uncorruptible. And these are the beings that the rampant power scaling fanboys try to present as equals to the Chaos Gods.
Yeah but whose going to tell them that? and who even knows that?
and back to death, check again, you have void worshipers, light worshipers, life worshippers, and Arcane worshipers all in the Shadowlands. Only those so steeped in their respective routes that they're more or less being labeled as a new species by WoW's loose definitions seem to be drawn to their respective sides post death. That said the rest of the whole bit almost spot on, there's a reason Tarei is so OP as a Vampire, even compared to other Vampires.
The chart is a 2D map though with sections that should connect not coming into contact with one another. More view the whole thing as a 3D puzzle box, certain segments reach from top to bottom diagonally, while others are only on the bottom layer, etc.
Yeah it's the Helm of Domination, but again check all the Scourge Characters and their stories. The current Lich King sucks at his job, he doesn't know how to use the Helm and isn't bringing out the Helm's full potential, same with Narzul, while that poor Orc was very successful, he wasn't using the helm to nearly the same level of effect as Arthas. Just because a tool is magical, doesn't mean skill isn't a issue, just like a smith with their hammer, anvil and Tongs in a forge, or a swordsman with various swords of different makes, if you don't possess the right skills it doesn't matter. And the current Lich King can't even conjure up a freaking shirt.
All your doing is making Alexstrasza more of a idiot. She's had how long to observe, learn, and still learned nothing, and she calls other dragons not just the aspects as being not mortal so I mean she's the dunce cap among all the Dragon Aspects.
Yes the Novelization, but that path doesn't exist on the WoW world map, thus why I'm not religiously following the WoW world map... otherwise a certain "City" is going to remain two freaking houses in a wall and the Alliance are going to be the prettiest and most hypocritical bitches in all of existence. But stilly point on Saurfang being a moron even with that Novel still stands, it's a freaking mountain dude, have you never hiked a freaking mountain? And he needed a guide to point him to what based off the book description was a fairly obvious ""natural"" trail.
Orcy Blood Elves... hahahahaha, "Look how fabulous my WAAAAAAAGH is in this mirror, oh I can kiss my own reflection, BUT I'ma gonna krump it instead!"
And the Question is Scourge corruption, the Scarlets well, Blizzard again are sort of in love with straw-manning these guys, rather than fix anything they just went around killing living civilians and occasionally fighting the Forsaken, even when they had the military might to take on the Scourge forces in the region they'd rather torture innocents for no reason and generally be the exact opposite of every absolutist claim WoW fans make about the Light and it's followers. But that aside yes there should be plenty to eak out a living for a small population, but we're talking some fairly massive populations here, and well Skaven and their hunger.
Oh yeah no I hate the drill "reverse drop pod" BS of the Dark Iron's, and I mean come on, they alone should have honeycombed the planet by now with that BS considering how often they've attacked the Brewfests. But their drills otherwise should be highly effective machines that
Hakuryuu: Oh it's worse than just labor exploitation, it's outright bad management without malice, just pure stupidity and quotas. like firing veteran staff for failing a test on a subject they never once in years got a refresher course in. so they fire their best guys in bulk, for the company's failures, on routine and then wonder why their talentless newbies can't match the previous standards.
If you can neaputina games work on PC or have a console they're compatible with they're good games with decent meta humor surrounding the games industry by genre (each goddess/kingdom represents a genre or two)
The stagnation which is GWs fault, their company has a horrible tendency to abandon certain IP or factions almost entirely and then blame fans for them not putting any effort in that a product that was clearly deliberately kept from being meta, AND never once marketed failing... and then years later they steal the Fans creations...see Codex Admech and the servators there, those were straight ripped from a fan's creation and pretend it was their brilliance that brought upon the success when all they did was give the fans what the fans actually wanted rather than listening to uninterested lazy board members too caught up in the government banking scene to ever care about anything other than finding the next way to push a worldview political ideal born of exclusive spoiled rich brat city living (hi Marxism and Fascism) and how to make the lesser masses give them more.