Post by Xelas Stormfeather on Aug 2, 2007 21:49:36 GMT -5
OOC: I'm making certain that the ongoing tale originated by Proletaire is preserved in its entirety, as the server boards are notorious for having limited archives. Enjoy!
=============
0. Proletaire Enters His 60th Season (IC) | 05/05/2007 03:04:36 AM EDT (Proletaire)
A blast of wintry air filled the hollows of the empty Cathedral. Outside, the gale bashed mercilessly against the weathered walls of the holy bastion, screaming out an eerie symphony that could have awoken the dead. Under the moonless sky, black pools of water, constantly disturbed by the wind and rain, gathered in potholes on the cold, wet asphalt floor surrounding the Cathedral. The night was dead and empty.
Just like the night he received word that he had been sent to Arathi Basin.
Brother Joshua was just about preparing the holy candles and blessed water for the usual nightly prayer session when he heard some unusual noises emanating from below the Cathedral floor - sonorous ringing which was amplified by the hollow stairwell to the east of the main hall. Curious, while slightly apprehensive of what the source of that horrid noise might have been, Brother Joshua drew his simple wooden staff from one of the stave-racks at the altar, and proceeded to investigate, reassuring himself with feigned confidence. The incessant howling that plagued the Cathedral air with an ominous turbulence did not help in alleviating his morbid speculations.
As he took light and cautious steps down the short flight of steps that extended out into the hall from the altar, he paused momentarily, as if in sudden realisation and relief. He was not alone in the storm.
"Proletaire! What might you be about, idling around in our catacombs? Come, ready yourself for prayer! It's about time now!", Brother Joshua yelled, loud enough for his asserting voice to find its way down the stairwell, to where he assumed Proletaire was lingering. Everyone else in the Cathedral had apparently retired early to their beds, even the devout Lord Grayson Shadowbreaker, who usually stayed up for his midnight vigil. While he awaited his disciple's emergence, Joshua prepared in his mind a long, moralistic sermon on punctuality, and of course, something about how the Light wouldn't condone such an act of tardiness.
"Would you hasten a little, Proletaire?! I will not wait on you like a blabbering fool! This is certainly not the time for indolence!"
The harsh, accusatory cry bellowed through the hall. Then Joshua heard the slow tapping of feet against dry asphalt.
"It's about time, Proletaire!"
What followed filled Joshua with an apocalyptic dread - As the tapping drew closer to ground level, the torches that lined the walls of the stairwell faltered and failed, and through his linen sandals, Joshua felt warmth leaving the Cathedral floor. He instinctively readied his staff, which now seemed more like a branch off an oak tree.
A shadow emerged from the labyrinth. And it wasn't a figure of speech or a metaphor.
Instantaneously, Joshua let fall his staff and drew his hands to his side, mustering a sphere of pure Light. Yet, even as he struggled to gather his energy within his palm, his eyes bore a flicker of uncertainty and dread at the fiend he was now confronting. He was afraid. The Light left him.
The shadow was fuming with fel, intangible vapour, and it walked nonchalantly towards Joshua, edging so close to him that Joshua swore he could have expired from the cold. It whispered in his ears -
"There will be a time when the Light fails. When that day comes, the Shadow will prevail. I - will prevail.
Alas, today is the day."
Joshua saw the dark figure leave the Cathedral with a human skull in hand, before at last the cold gripped him, and he fell unconscious.
And as he fell, an echo was heard.
"I am the Shadowsworn Shadowseer, Proletaire Shadowbreaker."
--------------------------------------------------------
OOC:
<----------- Proletaire hits season 60, finally! He thanks all who helped him along the way in one fashion or another. This marks a huge turn in Pro's history IC. He has revealed his true identity. His complete history can be found on the Character Profiles page, if you're interested =]
forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.html?topicId=56636591&sid=1&pageNo=8
Pro.
=============
4. Re: Proletaire Enters His 60th Season (IC) | 05/06/2007 01:07:29 PM EDT (Xelas)
"By day, give thanks
By night, beware
Half the world in sweetness,
The other in fear." -- S. Vega
Xelas crossed the cobbles with haste. It wasn't a far run from the building that housed The Argent Dawn to the Cathedral, but the air was unseasonably cold, filled with thunder and lashing rain. He ducked into the open doorway, sweeping his cloak from his shoulders, shaking the water from it as he assumed a more stately pace into the Cathedral itself. He had no sooner rounded the corner in the entry when a sense of wrongness sent him grabbing for weapons that he had left behind at the Argent Dawn. He silently cursed his own foolishness. He had made a practice of coming to the Cathedral unarmed, in deference of his peaceful, nightly prayers.
The vaulted space before him was dark, save for the pitiful glow of a candle at the altar itself. Yet, he was a child of shadows, and had no need for fire to light his path. The patterns of heat and cold, as well as the light reflected from his own eyes mapped the room for him as clearly as if it were day. It was then, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, that he saw a path on the floor that was impossibly black. He touched tentative fingers to it, drawing them back as the cold stung them. Even as he traced its path, he could see the trail warming to the neutrality of stone farther back in the Cathedral. Whatever it was, he had just missed it. Still, it would not be wise to rush in -- whatever it was, there could be others. He spied an overturned candelabra, its lights all extinguished and scattered on the floor. He picked it up as quietly as he could, wincing at the tiny scr'aping sound it made as he lifted it. The balance was horrible of course, and it was so heavy that he'd never be able to wield it for long should he have to use it as a crude staff, but it was better than nothing. Silently, he crept through the dark hall, ears straining for the presence of others. As he approached the stairs leading to the altar, the glow of a body near the walkway leading to the catacombs drew his attention. He moved as quickly and quietly as he could. Detecting no other threat, he set his makeshift staff aside in favor of inspecting the fallen man. He recognized Brother Joshua immediately. There were no signs of violence, but the priest was clearly unconscious. The patterns of life in his body seemed all wrong, as if he had lain in the snows of Dun Morogh for hours. Xelas gathered the fallen man in his arms, lifting him easily. Xelas carried Brother Joshua to the altar and laid him behind it. He lit more candles as much to warm the air as for light. Returning his attention to Joshua, Xelas knelt beside him, praying. An orb of gold-tinged light surrounded Joshua in a protective shell. Xelas projected warmth and healing into the cocoon of light and was rewarded with color returning to the fallen priest's ashen features. He gently patted Joshua's face, calling his name over and over.
"Joshua? Come now, it's safe. Wake up!"
For several moments, the priest did not respond. Then suddenly, his eyes snapped open, as he howled in barely articulate fear. He punctuated his confused babble by swinging his fists at Xelas in a frantic effort to push the elf away.
"Get away, blasphemer!" he wailed, "The Church will see your evil cleansed in Holy fire!" Xelas grabbed the man's arms, pinning him to the floor as much to keep the priest from hurting himself in his panic as anything. Moments later, the terrified man finally recognized Xelas. "Brother Xelas?" he said, sagging with relief, "it is really you?"
"Aye, Brother Joshua, I am here," he replied gently. "Come, I'll take you to the Argent Dawn where you can warm up in safety while I alert the church elders."
"You must bring them immediately! It was Proletaire, he... I..." Joshua's eyes grew bright with tears. "He's gone wrong, Xelas! Horribly, horribly wrong! He must be stopped. We..."
"We aren't going to be doing anything until you're sound again," Xelas replied, firmly. "In the meantime, I will gather the clergy and you can tell them what happened. It will be for them to decide how to proceed."
Joshua protested feebly, before allowing Xelas to gather him up and shepherd him out of the Cathedral. Xelas deliberately slowed his pace, allowing the smaller man to lean heavily upon him as they crossed the empty street to the Argent Dawn headquarters. Once Joshua was safely installed in the common room with hot, spiced wine to calm him, Xelas went to call the elders of the Church of Light together. Although he was serene and orderly in the face of Brother Joshua's panic, a core of rage burned inside him at this outrage.
There would be a reckoning. He would see to it.
--------------------------------------
OOC: Congratulations on 60! I'll get there (again) eventually. It will be interesting to see how things go from here.
=============
5. Re: Proletaire Enters His 60th Season (IC) | 05/07/2007 07:15:06 AM EDT (Proletaire)
Save the repetitive crackling produced by raindrops falling furiously on the frigid stone floors of the Trade District and occasional gust of chilling nightbreeze, the main street that ran through the immediate compound of the city was a scene of quiescence and nonchalance. Streetlamps, though wavering under the pressure of the elements, remained dimly lit as the flame within danced about erratically and emitted a luminous glow, a perfect symmetry of the frosty shower that now cloaked the city of Stormwind.
Amidst the dreary constancy of falling rain and flickering flames, a well-dissembled silhouette stirred in the narrow alley leading from the area outside the Auction House to the elevated ground behind it. The sudden, but hardly noticeable disturbance startled several resident vermin, which were busying themselves gnawing over a piece of discarded canvas, and they scampered off in alarm.
"The Gilded Rose", he thought. "Allison would remember me. Oh yes, she will. She always does."
Over the progression of a few seconds or so, the shade was seen to phase from pool of light, to pool of light etched out by the streetlamps, and finally arrived at the clearing just before the polished ash-white marble steps leading to the inn. The door was sealed shut.
Proletaire lifted his right hand, over which was worn a Silver-thread glove, and rapped the door of timber with an uncanny gentleness. Tap, tap tap...
There was a hurried, shuffling noise from within, and the faint glow of a freshly lit candle suffused the wet glass pane of the forlorn window that lay beside the doorway. The grating of rusted metal against the like scratched the cold, empty air amidst the now subsiding rainfall, and a loud metallic clank followed. From the keyhole poured warm, inviting light, and moments later, the heavy wooden door creaked open to reveal a lovely, though visibly lethargic young woman in silk-blue skirt and a white cotton blouse.
"By the Light!", bespoke the innkeeper, before her exclamation was most rudely interrupted by some silent interjection that made her fall mute.
Then Proletaire bellowed, "Bring me my treasured stash of tomes, wench! Aye, the ones that is supposedly addressed to me. They bear the seal of the Thalassians. Now be off!". Allison seemed completely dazed and in her eyes beheld the same gaze Proletaire wore. She obediently swivled slowly about her feet, and dragged them to the corner of the common room, where she hauled out from the floorboards a chest of paraphernalia, then returned to her unwelcomed visitor with stunning subjection. All this while she did not blink.
"Aye, now that's a good girl. Ah! My precious articles...", Proletaire muttered as he caressed the musty iron chest, which seemed to have been stowed away beneath the platform of timber that was the floor for a purpose that came to fruition only now. He fell short of revealing its contents.
At the heart of the city, there was restrained and forceably civil pandemonium in the Cathedral. Something had transpired, and the Elders of the Cathedral were congregating at the unfolding of this terrible event, many attempting to calm their nerves by uttering senseless prayers of blessed assurance.
In his mind a premonition began to unfurl itself, and spools of the future rolled out without end. An Elven vindicator. Lightfall. The Light. Brother Joshua. A blank. The chest left his cold, clammy palms and thundered onto the floor, sundering his concentration and breaking the unstable liason between Allison's bewitched mind and his own. For the first time in a long while, Proletaire was roused into a fit of panic. Mustering the dark energies that had long taken root in the tainted soil of his psyche, he conjured a mind-blowing but intangible explosion in the head of the hapless innkeeper, who was unsteady on her feet and transiently incapacitated. She fell to the floor instantly.
Without hesitation, Proletaire stole into the night, the burdensome metal chest held close to his bosom, leaving the tavern door ajar. He was last seen sprinting for the city gates in drenched Silver-thread robes.
"His name is Xelas."
-----------------------
OOC:
Excellent response to the plot, Xelas. Clearly, you are a formidable writer! =]
Pro.
=============
0. [60+] Wanted: Proletaire Lightfall ((IC)) | 06/09/2007 05:20:39 AM EDT (Proletaire)
Pinned by a silver-forged arrow which bears the seal of the Cathedral, to the solitary tree standing at the heart of the Trade District in Stormwind City :
-------------------------------------------------------------------
WANTED: PROLETAIRE LIGHTFALL
Scour Stormwind City for Proletaire Lightfall. Duel and subdue him before escorting him to the Cathedral of the Light in Stormwind. Speak with him thereafter.
Marvelous Madstone of Immortality: 0/1
DESCRIPTION
By royal decree of Stormwind Keep, under the divine counsel of the Cathedral of the Light:
I address you today, honourable citizens of Stormwind, as well as its allied inhabitants, because a terrible and unspeakable crisis has befallen the Cathedral, one that threatens to tarnish the noble reputation of the long standing Holy Orders housed within the Cathedral - both the priestly brotherhood and the Order of the Paladins. There have been rumours and speculations that a hellish fiend had been released from the Cathedral not to long ago and that our superior, Brother Joshua had most haplessly fallen victim to the villain's wrath as he stood valiantly to prevent its departure.
I can assure you, men and women of Stormwind, it was through no fault or folly, oversight or underestimation of ours that this vile shade fled the Cathedral. We possessed no prior knowledge or held no suspicion of its presence in our residence, to begin with. As much as it has very much alarmed the citizens of the city, the transpiration of this fateful event has undoubtedly caused us, the keymasters of the Cathedral, much distress.
Be forewarned though, the threat this "emancipated" savage poses is by no means nullified by his absence since his flight. In fact, his prolonged disappearance has thrown the Council into a state of confounded panic, because we simply cannot premeditate our next course of action due to the sore lack of hints at this savage's devices. All we know is that this creature possesses immense power that the even Council cannot speak of, and sports an art that is diametrically opposed to the Light and its teachings. We have condemned his audacity in employing such defiling magics on a holy Brother in the sanctified grounds of the Cathedral, and will exact justice when he is apprehended.
As such, he is currently blacklisted in our internal security records as a criminal on the loose. A steep bounty has been placed on a medallion he currently owns. Investigative magisters have identified it to be this - [Marvelous Madstone of Immortality]. They have also gathered that this perpetrator usually wanders in the early morns, just after dawn. We urge any potential challenger to exercise caution in subduing him, since he is both dangerous and wanted alive. Should his capture be successful, extract from his possession this medallion and escort him to the Cathedral, where you will receive your rightful rewards.
It must be made known that an Elven vindicator by the name of Xelas has assisted us with the greater part of our investigations, simply by his discovery of this fel deed and the swift notification of the Council. Stormwind sends its gratitude to its Night Elven allies.
The apprehension of this shady and blasphemous criminal will restore the peace and security the citizens of the city once enjoyed.
In the name of the Light
Lord Grayson Shadowbreaker.
(( The huge black ink dot which marks the start of the letter 'L' of Lord seems to suggest that the quill was left there for quite awhile before the signature began. ))
REWARDS
You will be able to choose from one of these rewards:
[Silver Dragonhawk Hatchling]
[Star of Elune]
[Three of Beasts]
[Magister's Belt]
[Marvelous Madstone of Immortality]
[Brilliant Chromatic Scale]
[Shadow Pearl]
[Cold-Iron Scepter of the Eagle]
[Smoked Talbuk Venison]
You will also receive: 7g 80s
---------------------------------------------------
(( PS: This is an Alliance-only quest in the bracket of 60-66. Attempts made by those below season 60 is highly discouraged. Engage the mentioned target in-character please. And update your quest log =P . This is supposed to leave Pro's storyline open-ended and receptive to new characters. ))
=============
0. Proletaire Enters His 60th Season (IC) | 05/05/2007 03:04:36 AM EDT (Proletaire)
A blast of wintry air filled the hollows of the empty Cathedral. Outside, the gale bashed mercilessly against the weathered walls of the holy bastion, screaming out an eerie symphony that could have awoken the dead. Under the moonless sky, black pools of water, constantly disturbed by the wind and rain, gathered in potholes on the cold, wet asphalt floor surrounding the Cathedral. The night was dead and empty.
Just like the night he received word that he had been sent to Arathi Basin.
Brother Joshua was just about preparing the holy candles and blessed water for the usual nightly prayer session when he heard some unusual noises emanating from below the Cathedral floor - sonorous ringing which was amplified by the hollow stairwell to the east of the main hall. Curious, while slightly apprehensive of what the source of that horrid noise might have been, Brother Joshua drew his simple wooden staff from one of the stave-racks at the altar, and proceeded to investigate, reassuring himself with feigned confidence. The incessant howling that plagued the Cathedral air with an ominous turbulence did not help in alleviating his morbid speculations.
As he took light and cautious steps down the short flight of steps that extended out into the hall from the altar, he paused momentarily, as if in sudden realisation and relief. He was not alone in the storm.
"Proletaire! What might you be about, idling around in our catacombs? Come, ready yourself for prayer! It's about time now!", Brother Joshua yelled, loud enough for his asserting voice to find its way down the stairwell, to where he assumed Proletaire was lingering. Everyone else in the Cathedral had apparently retired early to their beds, even the devout Lord Grayson Shadowbreaker, who usually stayed up for his midnight vigil. While he awaited his disciple's emergence, Joshua prepared in his mind a long, moralistic sermon on punctuality, and of course, something about how the Light wouldn't condone such an act of tardiness.
"Would you hasten a little, Proletaire?! I will not wait on you like a blabbering fool! This is certainly not the time for indolence!"
The harsh, accusatory cry bellowed through the hall. Then Joshua heard the slow tapping of feet against dry asphalt.
"It's about time, Proletaire!"
What followed filled Joshua with an apocalyptic dread - As the tapping drew closer to ground level, the torches that lined the walls of the stairwell faltered and failed, and through his linen sandals, Joshua felt warmth leaving the Cathedral floor. He instinctively readied his staff, which now seemed more like a branch off an oak tree.
A shadow emerged from the labyrinth. And it wasn't a figure of speech or a metaphor.
Instantaneously, Joshua let fall his staff and drew his hands to his side, mustering a sphere of pure Light. Yet, even as he struggled to gather his energy within his palm, his eyes bore a flicker of uncertainty and dread at the fiend he was now confronting. He was afraid. The Light left him.
The shadow was fuming with fel, intangible vapour, and it walked nonchalantly towards Joshua, edging so close to him that Joshua swore he could have expired from the cold. It whispered in his ears -
"There will be a time when the Light fails. When that day comes, the Shadow will prevail. I - will prevail.
Alas, today is the day."
Joshua saw the dark figure leave the Cathedral with a human skull in hand, before at last the cold gripped him, and he fell unconscious.
And as he fell, an echo was heard.
"I am the Shadowsworn Shadowseer, Proletaire Shadowbreaker."
--------------------------------------------------------
OOC:
<----------- Proletaire hits season 60, finally! He thanks all who helped him along the way in one fashion or another. This marks a huge turn in Pro's history IC. He has revealed his true identity. His complete history can be found on the Character Profiles page, if you're interested =]
forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.html?topicId=56636591&sid=1&pageNo=8
Pro.
=============
4. Re: Proletaire Enters His 60th Season (IC) | 05/06/2007 01:07:29 PM EDT (Xelas)
"By day, give thanks
By night, beware
Half the world in sweetness,
The other in fear." -- S. Vega
Xelas crossed the cobbles with haste. It wasn't a far run from the building that housed The Argent Dawn to the Cathedral, but the air was unseasonably cold, filled with thunder and lashing rain. He ducked into the open doorway, sweeping his cloak from his shoulders, shaking the water from it as he assumed a more stately pace into the Cathedral itself. He had no sooner rounded the corner in the entry when a sense of wrongness sent him grabbing for weapons that he had left behind at the Argent Dawn. He silently cursed his own foolishness. He had made a practice of coming to the Cathedral unarmed, in deference of his peaceful, nightly prayers.
The vaulted space before him was dark, save for the pitiful glow of a candle at the altar itself. Yet, he was a child of shadows, and had no need for fire to light his path. The patterns of heat and cold, as well as the light reflected from his own eyes mapped the room for him as clearly as if it were day. It was then, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, that he saw a path on the floor that was impossibly black. He touched tentative fingers to it, drawing them back as the cold stung them. Even as he traced its path, he could see the trail warming to the neutrality of stone farther back in the Cathedral. Whatever it was, he had just missed it. Still, it would not be wise to rush in -- whatever it was, there could be others. He spied an overturned candelabra, its lights all extinguished and scattered on the floor. He picked it up as quietly as he could, wincing at the tiny scr'aping sound it made as he lifted it. The balance was horrible of course, and it was so heavy that he'd never be able to wield it for long should he have to use it as a crude staff, but it was better than nothing. Silently, he crept through the dark hall, ears straining for the presence of others. As he approached the stairs leading to the altar, the glow of a body near the walkway leading to the catacombs drew his attention. He moved as quickly and quietly as he could. Detecting no other threat, he set his makeshift staff aside in favor of inspecting the fallen man. He recognized Brother Joshua immediately. There were no signs of violence, but the priest was clearly unconscious. The patterns of life in his body seemed all wrong, as if he had lain in the snows of Dun Morogh for hours. Xelas gathered the fallen man in his arms, lifting him easily. Xelas carried Brother Joshua to the altar and laid him behind it. He lit more candles as much to warm the air as for light. Returning his attention to Joshua, Xelas knelt beside him, praying. An orb of gold-tinged light surrounded Joshua in a protective shell. Xelas projected warmth and healing into the cocoon of light and was rewarded with color returning to the fallen priest's ashen features. He gently patted Joshua's face, calling his name over and over.
"Joshua? Come now, it's safe. Wake up!"
For several moments, the priest did not respond. Then suddenly, his eyes snapped open, as he howled in barely articulate fear. He punctuated his confused babble by swinging his fists at Xelas in a frantic effort to push the elf away.
"Get away, blasphemer!" he wailed, "The Church will see your evil cleansed in Holy fire!" Xelas grabbed the man's arms, pinning him to the floor as much to keep the priest from hurting himself in his panic as anything. Moments later, the terrified man finally recognized Xelas. "Brother Xelas?" he said, sagging with relief, "it is really you?"
"Aye, Brother Joshua, I am here," he replied gently. "Come, I'll take you to the Argent Dawn where you can warm up in safety while I alert the church elders."
"You must bring them immediately! It was Proletaire, he... I..." Joshua's eyes grew bright with tears. "He's gone wrong, Xelas! Horribly, horribly wrong! He must be stopped. We..."
"We aren't going to be doing anything until you're sound again," Xelas replied, firmly. "In the meantime, I will gather the clergy and you can tell them what happened. It will be for them to decide how to proceed."
Joshua protested feebly, before allowing Xelas to gather him up and shepherd him out of the Cathedral. Xelas deliberately slowed his pace, allowing the smaller man to lean heavily upon him as they crossed the empty street to the Argent Dawn headquarters. Once Joshua was safely installed in the common room with hot, spiced wine to calm him, Xelas went to call the elders of the Church of Light together. Although he was serene and orderly in the face of Brother Joshua's panic, a core of rage burned inside him at this outrage.
There would be a reckoning. He would see to it.
--------------------------------------
OOC: Congratulations on 60! I'll get there (again) eventually. It will be interesting to see how things go from here.
=============
5. Re: Proletaire Enters His 60th Season (IC) | 05/07/2007 07:15:06 AM EDT (Proletaire)
Save the repetitive crackling produced by raindrops falling furiously on the frigid stone floors of the Trade District and occasional gust of chilling nightbreeze, the main street that ran through the immediate compound of the city was a scene of quiescence and nonchalance. Streetlamps, though wavering under the pressure of the elements, remained dimly lit as the flame within danced about erratically and emitted a luminous glow, a perfect symmetry of the frosty shower that now cloaked the city of Stormwind.
Amidst the dreary constancy of falling rain and flickering flames, a well-dissembled silhouette stirred in the narrow alley leading from the area outside the Auction House to the elevated ground behind it. The sudden, but hardly noticeable disturbance startled several resident vermin, which were busying themselves gnawing over a piece of discarded canvas, and they scampered off in alarm.
"The Gilded Rose", he thought. "Allison would remember me. Oh yes, she will. She always does."
Over the progression of a few seconds or so, the shade was seen to phase from pool of light, to pool of light etched out by the streetlamps, and finally arrived at the clearing just before the polished ash-white marble steps leading to the inn. The door was sealed shut.
Proletaire lifted his right hand, over which was worn a Silver-thread glove, and rapped the door of timber with an uncanny gentleness. Tap, tap tap...
There was a hurried, shuffling noise from within, and the faint glow of a freshly lit candle suffused the wet glass pane of the forlorn window that lay beside the doorway. The grating of rusted metal against the like scratched the cold, empty air amidst the now subsiding rainfall, and a loud metallic clank followed. From the keyhole poured warm, inviting light, and moments later, the heavy wooden door creaked open to reveal a lovely, though visibly lethargic young woman in silk-blue skirt and a white cotton blouse.
"By the Light!", bespoke the innkeeper, before her exclamation was most rudely interrupted by some silent interjection that made her fall mute.
Then Proletaire bellowed, "Bring me my treasured stash of tomes, wench! Aye, the ones that is supposedly addressed to me. They bear the seal of the Thalassians. Now be off!". Allison seemed completely dazed and in her eyes beheld the same gaze Proletaire wore. She obediently swivled slowly about her feet, and dragged them to the corner of the common room, where she hauled out from the floorboards a chest of paraphernalia, then returned to her unwelcomed visitor with stunning subjection. All this while she did not blink.
"Aye, now that's a good girl. Ah! My precious articles...", Proletaire muttered as he caressed the musty iron chest, which seemed to have been stowed away beneath the platform of timber that was the floor for a purpose that came to fruition only now. He fell short of revealing its contents.
At the heart of the city, there was restrained and forceably civil pandemonium in the Cathedral. Something had transpired, and the Elders of the Cathedral were congregating at the unfolding of this terrible event, many attempting to calm their nerves by uttering senseless prayers of blessed assurance.
In his mind a premonition began to unfurl itself, and spools of the future rolled out without end. An Elven vindicator. Lightfall. The Light. Brother Joshua. A blank. The chest left his cold, clammy palms and thundered onto the floor, sundering his concentration and breaking the unstable liason between Allison's bewitched mind and his own. For the first time in a long while, Proletaire was roused into a fit of panic. Mustering the dark energies that had long taken root in the tainted soil of his psyche, he conjured a mind-blowing but intangible explosion in the head of the hapless innkeeper, who was unsteady on her feet and transiently incapacitated. She fell to the floor instantly.
Without hesitation, Proletaire stole into the night, the burdensome metal chest held close to his bosom, leaving the tavern door ajar. He was last seen sprinting for the city gates in drenched Silver-thread robes.
"His name is Xelas."
-----------------------
OOC:
Excellent response to the plot, Xelas. Clearly, you are a formidable writer! =]
Pro.
=============
0. [60+] Wanted: Proletaire Lightfall ((IC)) | 06/09/2007 05:20:39 AM EDT (Proletaire)
Pinned by a silver-forged arrow which bears the seal of the Cathedral, to the solitary tree standing at the heart of the Trade District in Stormwind City :
-------------------------------------------------------------------
WANTED: PROLETAIRE LIGHTFALL
Scour Stormwind City for Proletaire Lightfall. Duel and subdue him before escorting him to the Cathedral of the Light in Stormwind. Speak with him thereafter.
Marvelous Madstone of Immortality: 0/1
DESCRIPTION
By royal decree of Stormwind Keep, under the divine counsel of the Cathedral of the Light:
I address you today, honourable citizens of Stormwind, as well as its allied inhabitants, because a terrible and unspeakable crisis has befallen the Cathedral, one that threatens to tarnish the noble reputation of the long standing Holy Orders housed within the Cathedral - both the priestly brotherhood and the Order of the Paladins. There have been rumours and speculations that a hellish fiend had been released from the Cathedral not to long ago and that our superior, Brother Joshua had most haplessly fallen victim to the villain's wrath as he stood valiantly to prevent its departure.
I can assure you, men and women of Stormwind, it was through no fault or folly, oversight or underestimation of ours that this vile shade fled the Cathedral. We possessed no prior knowledge or held no suspicion of its presence in our residence, to begin with. As much as it has very much alarmed the citizens of the city, the transpiration of this fateful event has undoubtedly caused us, the keymasters of the Cathedral, much distress.
Be forewarned though, the threat this "emancipated" savage poses is by no means nullified by his absence since his flight. In fact, his prolonged disappearance has thrown the Council into a state of confounded panic, because we simply cannot premeditate our next course of action due to the sore lack of hints at this savage's devices. All we know is that this creature possesses immense power that the even Council cannot speak of, and sports an art that is diametrically opposed to the Light and its teachings. We have condemned his audacity in employing such defiling magics on a holy Brother in the sanctified grounds of the Cathedral, and will exact justice when he is apprehended.
As such, he is currently blacklisted in our internal security records as a criminal on the loose. A steep bounty has been placed on a medallion he currently owns. Investigative magisters have identified it to be this - [Marvelous Madstone of Immortality]. They have also gathered that this perpetrator usually wanders in the early morns, just after dawn. We urge any potential challenger to exercise caution in subduing him, since he is both dangerous and wanted alive. Should his capture be successful, extract from his possession this medallion and escort him to the Cathedral, where you will receive your rightful rewards.
It must be made known that an Elven vindicator by the name of Xelas has assisted us with the greater part of our investigations, simply by his discovery of this fel deed and the swift notification of the Council. Stormwind sends its gratitude to its Night Elven allies.
The apprehension of this shady and blasphemous criminal will restore the peace and security the citizens of the city once enjoyed.
In the name of the Light
Lord Grayson Shadowbreaker.
(( The huge black ink dot which marks the start of the letter 'L' of Lord seems to suggest that the quill was left there for quite awhile before the signature began. ))
REWARDS
You will be able to choose from one of these rewards:
[Silver Dragonhawk Hatchling]
[Star of Elune]
[Three of Beasts]
[Magister's Belt]
[Marvelous Madstone of Immortality]
[Brilliant Chromatic Scale]
[Shadow Pearl]
[Cold-Iron Scepter of the Eagle]
[Smoked Talbuk Venison]
You will also receive: 7g 80s
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(( PS: This is an Alliance-only quest in the bracket of 60-66. Attempts made by those below season 60 is highly discouraged. Engage the mentioned target in-character please. And update your quest log =P . This is supposed to leave Pro's storyline open-ended and receptive to new characters. ))
