Post by Ombar on Nov 16, 2014 17:00:14 GMT -6
Snow. It hurt. His blood-stained hands trembled as he crawled to his feet. The hulking muscle-bound Dwarf towered over him, nearly casting a shadow even among the blizzard. "You're no son of mine. I teach you everything I know, I took you in, and this... This is how you repay me? Die here. You aren't even worth my breath." The young teenage Gnome grit his teeth before trying to scream out as the Dwarf walked away. The noise was shot dead by the tundra, the white tide swallowing up the Dwarf as he trudged away.
~10 years later - Booty Bay, Stranglethorn Vale~
The Salty Sailor Tavern bustled with a variety of people, several warships and a vast amount of fishing boats were in town that weekend. Inside, many crews gathered around their tables, sharing drink and tales. All save for one, the Gnome with the black frayed gloves who sat in the corner table. Ombar had his legs kicked up onto the table and his arms folded, his eyes glued on the clock as he guzzled down his pint.
A figure filled the doorway, the room grew quiet. An armor-clad and dusty hooded figure made his way in, snaking around the layout of tables. Before long he settled in front of the Gnome, his eyes hidden by the shadows cast by the hood. Ombar felt the piercing glare, turning his own to meet it. He finishes his pint. "You're late."
"The Bay is a far way from home. Getting here was no easy feat. Where's the coin, small one?"
Ombar lowers his feet. "The Hinterlands. We simply have to seize it."
The figure threw off his cloak and throws the chair across the room before slamming his hands onto the table, easily standing four times above Ombar. "This better be a damn joke. I didn't come all the way out here from the deserts of Uldum for this." A pair of other men covered in sun-bleached armor walk up to the table, hands on the hilts of their swords.
The Gnome keeps his cool and he stands up in the rickety chair, his eyes unwavering. "Garth. You and your men come work for the Zephyr Brigade and I promise... You'll become more wealthy than you ever imagined. I know this Keep inside and out, it's vault is filled with gold."
Garth, a fair haired and dark skinned man bit his lip, his face ablaze with rage. "Black Fox, you know I could earn just as much gold from the merch--"
"They have the Arc of Ilgalar."
Garth froze. The man turned to his guards and lowered his hand, they hesitantly lower their hands from their hilts. As Garth turns around, a sly and devilish grin slips across his face. "Why, you should have led with that then, Master Gnome. Now, you have my attention. Vanguard Keep it is." The Gnome lets out a muffled sigh.
((This is a bit of Ombar's history and involves a portion of the Iron Vanguard and it's foundation. I'll write more in the near future! Feel free to post what you think of it ))
~10 years later - Booty Bay, Stranglethorn Vale~
The Salty Sailor Tavern bustled with a variety of people, several warships and a vast amount of fishing boats were in town that weekend. Inside, many crews gathered around their tables, sharing drink and tales. All save for one, the Gnome with the black frayed gloves who sat in the corner table. Ombar had his legs kicked up onto the table and his arms folded, his eyes glued on the clock as he guzzled down his pint.
A figure filled the doorway, the room grew quiet. An armor-clad and dusty hooded figure made his way in, snaking around the layout of tables. Before long he settled in front of the Gnome, his eyes hidden by the shadows cast by the hood. Ombar felt the piercing glare, turning his own to meet it. He finishes his pint. "You're late."
"The Bay is a far way from home. Getting here was no easy feat. Where's the coin, small one?"
Ombar lowers his feet. "The Hinterlands. We simply have to seize it."
The figure threw off his cloak and throws the chair across the room before slamming his hands onto the table, easily standing four times above Ombar. "This better be a damn joke. I didn't come all the way out here from the deserts of Uldum for this." A pair of other men covered in sun-bleached armor walk up to the table, hands on the hilts of their swords.
The Gnome keeps his cool and he stands up in the rickety chair, his eyes unwavering. "Garth. You and your men come work for the Zephyr Brigade and I promise... You'll become more wealthy than you ever imagined. I know this Keep inside and out, it's vault is filled with gold."
Garth, a fair haired and dark skinned man bit his lip, his face ablaze with rage. "Black Fox, you know I could earn just as much gold from the merch--"
"They have the Arc of Ilgalar."
Garth froze. The man turned to his guards and lowered his hand, they hesitantly lower their hands from their hilts. As Garth turns around, a sly and devilish grin slips across his face. "Why, you should have led with that then, Master Gnome. Now, you have my attention. Vanguard Keep it is." The Gnome lets out a muffled sigh.
((This is a bit of Ombar's history and involves a portion of the Iron Vanguard and it's foundation. I'll write more in the near future! Feel free to post what you think of it ))