AoD Character Fluff

[tuxedo clank]

Round 3

All v All special game

Bogrod sat in his throne room, his faced set in a pained grimace. The wound inflicted by the vampire still burned with unnatural fire. Even the shamans couldn't stop it, meaning many of them ended up as a bloody mess on the floor. Bogrod placed a hand on the charred remains of his left shoulder. Griphook would have to lead the army to the temple for the sceptre. The boys were restless after the fight with the mounted wraiths. The black orcs were now wearing a large variety of the armours pillaged from the dusty bodies.

Griphook himself was striding through the masses, picking up anything he wanted. The few foolish enough to resist would get up later without the majority of their body. The savage orc was covered from head to foot in blue spiraly tattoos. The blue paint was supposed to protect him and it may well work. Bogrod however preferred to kill and enemy before they tried to kill him rather than hope some silly lines would protect him.

"Grip'ook!" He roared over the din. Instantly the horde fell silent except a pair of goblins fighting over a shiny silver skull. A scowl from Bogrod made the two realise that they wouldn't live to keep the skull longer than a few minutes. "Move out yer grubby little gitsh." He said wincing as he gestured with his injured left arm. Griphook turned and grabbed his longsword from a passing goblin. The bodyguard started moving. Bogrod himself rose and picked up a small dwarven axe. One of the goblins was sitting down and gnawing on the skull whilst the other, smarter one had slunk away into the crowd. A moment later the goblin was dribbling blood from his split head onto the tougher skull on his lap.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Griphook walked along the battered road, keeping his eyes out for any trouble. The boys moved in a spread out skirmished formation. The sceptre was not important enough for the whole army to go after but too important to be given to the sneaky goblins who would probably never come back with it. Therefore the boys were sent to get the sceptre because they would return with it or dead. Griphook took two more steps and then stopped. He held out a hand and looked around. "You go that way. You get da stick. The rest of you wif me." Griphook murmured. He turned and walked off toward the sound of the dead.

Out of the shadows behind the temple strode a legion of tomb guards in front of a liche priest. "Charge yer gits." Griphook shouted and felt the ground shudder as the orcs charged past him. He followed leasurely holding his sword high and kicking his steel toed boots on the floor. He made for a direct line for the liche. Unfortunately half a dozen guards had hacked through the orcs and made a wall to block Griphook. The boss charged forward.

His steel toed boot landed hard on a skeleton whilst the sword sliced it's way through several more. The rest however blocked or dodged the blows. Both instantly raised their blades and with a glowing blue light the swords slipped through the armour and blue paint of Griphook's armour. The savage orc collapsed as more orcs charged forward to protect his limp body.

Meanwhile the orcs had opened the chest with a smash of a massive club. One black orc raised the sceptre and turned to see a horde of skeletons holding off some dwarfs whilst more advanced on the orcs. Behind the many seperate melees was a clash of titans between a vampire and a dwarf. Both were mere blurs of shapes. Then suddenly the vampire stopped moving with an axe in his chest. Then a large blue bolt slammed hard into the triumphant dwarf as the liche walked forward. The man turned to look at the orcs fleeing with the sceptre. Another flash of blue lightning hit the orcs and the sceptre was dropped.

Eventually the remaining black orcs ran from the field and the hordes of tomb guard. They carried the limp body of Griphook who was still breathing but oozing blood. The tomb guard stepped among the dead lifting their huge blades and executing any who still moved. Eventually the found the orc who was lying dead on the sceptre. Smiling the liche lifted in in the air and walked away. Bogrod would not be happy about that.

[tuxedo clank]

Here is some Vampire Count fluff for Bel-Sham-Harath.

A man trod the familiar path through the city. He could feel the reassuring breeze ruffle through his hair. The night was perfect, stars shining brightly with the moon. The watchman wanted to spin out his time on the streets before returning to the stingy watchhouse. He wore regulation armour with its red and green pattern. On the front of the gleaming silver breastplate was an engraved floral pattern around a single letter. The 'D' was engraved in an intricate pattern so that it seemed to melt into the armour and the flowers. His helmet was not so sparkling but it still contained the royal crest. On his leather shoulder pad was a simple yet complex image of a dragon. It had a slightly larger head than a normal dragon and its wings were leathery. Under that was a small square with 3 striped stiched into the pad.

The Captain walked through the brightly lit streets. He was the captain of the royal guard and protected the people of the fortress city of Drakenheim. The Lord Heinrich was a decisive leader who valued the lives of his subjects above any others. Captain Holden had been promoted quickly due to his devotion to the Lord and the people. He looked back over the years and noticed a small recent period where his Lord had dissapeared. His heir had ruled for that short period. Moratchi was a much more combated man but just as decisive. He had returned the army to full strength and had trained the royal guard personally. The royal guard were the best soldiers the city had to offer.

The only thing that Holden disliked about his Lords was the bodyguard. The hooded figure had seemed to have appeared one day out of nowhere, standing behind his master. The figure hadn't left the Lord's side since. Bel-Sham-Harath was known to the city as the soul sucker. The figure had caught an assassin attempting to kill Heinrich almost an hour before the man would have tried. All they found of the man later on was a huddled figure who looked empty. It was just a body, almost zombie like.

Holden turned, drawing his sword as he heard a rustle behind him. A tall figure, covered from head to foot in a billowing cloak stood in front of the captain.The captain sighed and sheathed his sword. "Evening Sir." Holden said. The hooded figure nodded and walked past. He was heading for the gates. This was the first time Holden had seen the figure without Heinrich. It was an odd feeling and had an ominous aura. Holden shook his head and resumed his march, mind already leaving the hooded Bel-Sham-Harath.

Bel-Sham-Harath stopped at the gates and looked up. The guard on the gates was sitting in a chair, watching the streets. The soul sucker looked at the gates and moved to them. He slid through them as though they weren't there. When he was on the other side he held out a glowing blue hand. It was the kind of hand a skeleton would have, made entirely of bones. You could see every joint on them. Suddenly a shadow appeared in a ball form. It expanded out into a stick. Then it became solid and an axe head split from the wood and appeared. The Wight walked into the surrounding forest.

Holden finished his patrol at the run down building that was the watches building. "Thank you for allowing me to walk a patrol like the old days." He said nodding to the captain of the watch. The old man smiled and then turned to a pair of young rookies sitting at a table playing cards. He barked something and the pair instantly got up and put on their helmets and swords. Smiling Holden accompanied the two out of the building. When they headed to the left and the lower town, he turned to the right and headed to the large building that made the palaces keep. The town would have liked to have left the walls of the city and expand but unfortunately the constant attack of bandits didn't allow them. They had to settle for building strong and larger buildings to accomodate the population. It reduced the need for builders but it was cheaper and better for the economy to build stronger houses.

[tuxedo clank]

Heinrich sighed as he saw the match ups. He knew his men, the term being used loosly, and their strengths and weaknesses. Moratchi was a cold-blooded killer, fast and without concience. His only problem was that anyone wearing decent armour would be able to shrug off his blows. Heinrich didn't like the Lizardmen for the very reason that they were too tough. A small thought occured to him. "What would a Lizardman vampire be like?" He let that question sit there for a while and then shook his head. Moratchi may well die during this fight. Time would tell.

* * * * * * *

Moratchi sat behind a desk in a dark room. He held a single dagger in his hand, passing it from hand to hand, playing with it. His sword lay on the wall next to the door. His feet were resting on the table with his black cloak billowing over the back of his chair. The room was a nice one he had to admit. Something a very rich person should own. Moratchi looked at the shadowy clock next to him. 9:48. The man was late. This might not go so well for him. Then again the man was completely unaware of Moratchi in the office.

Suddenly the door opened and a belly preceded a very fat man into the room. Behind him stood two very big and very scarred men. Probably bodyguards. "Good evening Rector." Moratchi said, making all three of the humans jump. "Your late." He said pointing to the clock. The clock now read 9:49. The Rector stood there, frozen with shock and rage at this person. The bodyguards stood behind him, waiting for an order. Lord Rector scowled and raised his hand in a signal. The bodyguards stepped past their master, holding huge clubs. Moratchi sighed and shook his head. The fools. Then he vanished in a black mist.

The door slammed and Moratchi stood next to it, holding his sword in one hand. The bodyguards turned but too late. Moratchi grabbed on of their tunics and wiped his sword clean before either of them had touched the floor. He looked down. "They got blood on my suit." He said scowling down at the droplet. "Second this week." He muttered and then noticed the flabberghasted man standing a meter away.

Moratchi smiled. "I want an assassin, I don't want to be connected to this and if you tell anyone, I will know, you will die." He spoke sternly and threateningly. Then he put a small piece of paper with a single name written on it on the table. "The target. Nobody should know until too late." He said still grinning and in a whirl of his cloak he was gone.