"Warning: This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system. If this were a real emergency you would hear the following: KE KE KE KE KE MONKEY BOY (roughly translated: This report contains 120 Mb of graphics. Good luck trying to down load it through that puny-ass phone line)."
-WilliamWC3
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| The Horde, Prologue | | | Author: | | | IP: | pcp12280XXXX | | Date: | 07/26/02 07:07 | | Game Type: | Warcraft 3 | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 1, Max: 4, Min: 4
Lifetime Rating for Vigilant: 4.0000 |  | The Horde
A Fanfic By Vigilant
(read: this is going to be long)
Hello, folks, and welcome to my fanfic. I've got a relatively decent plot sketched out in my mind. It's pieced together from several short novels I've attempted writing (although before I've half written them, I'm always discouraged by my lack of creativity and give up) and set into the WarCraft III universe. It may feature inappropriate language. Furthermore, don't expect me to go anywhere with the plot soon. I tend to develop stories slowly (this fanfic will go build up its plot and characters towards the action, but will be insidiously boring on the way, and then I'll give up before I get to the cool action scenes).
Note to everyone: I'm truly incompetent and therefore, despite my valiant efforts at learning HTML and JavaScript (I went over to a tutorial, and learned about tags, in other words) I still can't seem to understand two important things. Firstly, I don't know how to attach files properly; you know, like the way people let you download game replays. I'm clueless. Secondly, my pictures always end up broken. Thirdly (or is it third of all?) I wouldn't know how to use Alt-Text and provide witty comments on my pictures, even if I could get the miserable things to work. You may explain these things to me, provide broken links to proper tutorials, or simply threaten me with death on the Comments page. Alternately, you could simply come over to my house, hit me with a baseball bat and assault my mother. It's really up to you.
I'm going to be updating this thing like a crazy mofo, especially if I figure out the whole "pictures" deal. God, why am I even bothering? My best hope is a link to an HTML tutorial, maturity, and a change of names till I try again.
Prologue
"If we can't take your freedom, we'll settle for your lives."
He had to think clearly.
It had been four years since the so-called "Eternal Peace" had begun. Springing from the occurrence of what was now known as "The End of Hatred," the Eternal Peace was the humans' terminology for the collapse of racial discrimination as the races banded together to banish their demonic foes. The haughty elves still acted as holier-than-thou as ever, but their loyalty as allies was never questioned. In stark contrast, the humans had greeted the notion of orcish allies with perfect delight. Humans would treat orcs as more than equal, lavishing them with praise, but the orcs were not quite as stupid as the humans had thought. The proud orcs noticed the stifled laughs. Their so-called equality was an in-joke amongst the humans. The Eternal Peace was not a comfort to the orcs in the least, for while their demonic bloodlust had been abolished when Hellscream slew Mannoroth, their lifestyles could not be quickly changed. Adapting to their new, peaceful lives in an age of peace - an age never known to the orcs since they had been twisted by the demons - proved to be an uncertain task, and throughout the winter, the once battle-crazed orcs had been forced to settle like humans. It was most unsettling to the old veterans of war. The old warchief, Thrall, seemed to be the only orc who was positive about the changes. While he looked to ensure a safe future for his race, his clan simply wished for conflict.
They wouldn't wait long. That had been three months ago. It was the middle of February, in the year 5 E.P. and the hordes were on the move again. The chilling frost bit through the tough skin of the old battle veterans, but any fate seemed better than the boredom of peace to the Horde. Snow lay on the ground, over an inch, but the barefoot orcs trudged through the plains with grim determination. No force of nature could stop the Horde.
It had happened two months ago. Now it seemed as if it mattered not, but the memories were so fresh that the orcs could not help recalling them as they walked forever on. Toughskull Longarms had a dispute with the old warchief. The young but powerful orc's first battle was his defense of the World Tree. His glee in combat was not demonic but was as ferocious as any demon's curse.
Longarms claimed before the Horde (to Thrall's great embarassment) that the son of Durotan had no right to call himself the warchief. The young orc maintained angrily that the alliance with the humans was a foolish mistake, and if it were not corrected, the orcs would be forced back into slavery by the so-called superior races. Toughskull demanded immediate action against the night elves and humans.
Thrall was not in a good mood. The suggestion of a sudden revolt against their allies (the alliance which he had worked so hard to create!) was too much for the old orc. The typically peaceful Thrall snapped and, to the awe of the viewing Horde, a terrible argument began, but it was over just as quickly. They had already decided. Their dispute could not be settled by words.
However, the young Longarms had captivated the Horde. They did not want to live in slavery of the sniveling, wretched humans or the haughty elves. The time was now that they would strike! And when Longarms drew his sword and slew the great Thrall, Son of Durotan, the Horde's frenzy was turned quickly to action by their new leader, Toughskull. Immediately, those loyal to Thrall and other dissidents to Toughskull's new empire were killed. Then, the new Horde laid siege to their "home," a quiet, mostly orcish village. Storming the town hall, the Horde slew every human in their path and Toughskull himself assassinated the Mayor. But despite their best efforts, a few horsemen had escaped to bring the news to Proudmoore, the human's leader.
The Horde was not one to stop when it was in a frenzy. After a week of marching, the orcish Horde came to forrest which a tribe of Night Elves called home. Many orcs had settled there. Quickly rousing his brethren with a captivating speech, he added their number to his Horde and proceded to slaughter every Night Elf in the town. The ancient, holy trees were hacked apart. The orcs had burned their bridges. There was no going back now.
Which is why now, after two months of storming villages, recovering orcs (and killing dissidents), adding to his armies, and establishing himself as the most brutal, cunning, bloodthirsty commander in orcish history, Toughskull's army marched to Kul Tiras. The Horde would slay the Kirin Tor and free themselves from their wretched slavers once and for all. Toughskull's motivational speeches elevated his status in the orcish legions to godhood. Each of his orcs would fight to the death in his name. The Horde was on a rampage, and they would stop for none.
Yes, Toughskull had to think clearly. For, who knows when one's proverbial five minutes of fame have lasted their duration?
Okay, so things aren't moving very quickly. No real battle scenes yet, but this is the prologue, right? Right! I'll update this thing if someone points out any grammatical or spelling errors, or if someone helps my HTML. Well, till Chapter One (or this fanfic being deleted by a rater), uhh, yeah. I'd say "Cheers!" but everyone does that, so it'd be awkward. Uhh, see ya?
Vigilant |
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