the reign of chaos.......thats what many elders in the four races of the war against the burning legion called it. tales fortold of this war, a greater war than the orc and human campaignes. many lives were lost such as the human paladin uther the lightbringer, grom hellscream of the orcs warsong clan and cenarius....ancient keeper of the grov e of the night elf sentinles. some were not killed though....one human paladin...prince arthas of lordaeron....threw down his paladin hammer and took up the cursed runeblade frostmourne. by doing this he condemned his fate in becoming the leader head of the undead scourge. when the war was over....the burning legion tried to erradicate their own creation (the undead scourge) by going to the frozen throne of ner'zhul the lich king....whom was the one controlling arthas.......to destroy him, unfortunatly they didnt make it there as the scourge and a group of creatures known as the naga lead by a rogue elve demon hunter stopped them. prince arhtas and the rogue night elve did battle at the frozen throne and the demon hunter fell at the hands of the undead death knight. weary from his recent battle arthas climbed the ever entwining stairs of the frozen throne. his job at that point was to return frostmourne to the ice prison that held ner'zhul to free him.......this did not bold well with arthas. with one mighty swing arthas raised his sword and struck down the lich king. when all was done....arhtas picked up the crown of the the now fallen lich king....placed it on his head....and then became the un denied leader of the scourge in which he was destined to become. after tjhese events....the undead are regrouping int he frozen lands in which they were created....the orcs and nightelf alliance go to countless parts of azeroth to find any human remaining to join them and destry the undead once and for all. this....si hwere our story begins......






((i'm going to post my character into later....n ot feeling well as of the moment....going to lay down and sleep...when i wake up, i'll post it))

The red sun was perched over the western hills of Azeroth. It burned the eyes of Kalim the Pure as he walked, long strands of white hair helping to block out the painful rays. He had forsaken his horse to set out on foot so that he would not have any less of a burden than the men who followed him. As he moved through the ravaged lands more able men seemed willing to join him, the concept of a Death Knight turning back to the light gave many hope enough to fight. He made it clear to any willing to follow him the pace would be grueling, and he was making good on that promise. He had been marching at a brisk pace for the last ten hours, the last two with the sunlight in his eyes. The men understood that a Paladin could ignore any discomfort in service to the light, and inspired by his persaverance despite the heavy black armor he wore they did not complain. Most who joined his ranks were men who had lost everything that had given into despair before hearing the converted agent of the Lich King speak of the imminant threat growing in the North. Although weary from the tribulations of the past they rallied to his banner, pleased with the idea of taking the battle to the doorstep of the enemy rather than fighting in their own fields while their homes were destroyed. For days they marched at this pace, and when they moved into the western parts of Lordaeron, less ravaged by the war than others, fewer men began to join Kalim's army, lacking as much reason for revenge against the Lich King and his minions. The Holy Order of Gristol, a seaside city, provided Kalim with ships free of charge, recognising the importance of the Paladin's quest. The order even sent two of their own Paladins along on the massive ghalions, twins Abel the Judge and Aldrich the Enforcer, to aid in Kalim's quest. However, Kalim knew perfectly well the real purpose they sailed with him. The Holy Order of Gristol suspected him to be not fully converted back to the light, or perhaps a spy of the Lich King made to lead the capable army into a trap, or directly into the maelstrom. He even suspected the two were placed as agents to Ursup control over the army, but Kalim did not fear any of this. Even if he died now at their hands he would die knowing that he had set in motion a campaign that could perhaps redeem himself and make up for the innocent blood shed by his infernal runeblade. For the first time in many hours Kalim slept, cradled by the gentle movements of the ocean. However, a white and ghastly face that resembled the once proud Prince Arthas appeared often in his dreams, accomponied by whispers that could not be decyphered for they were spoken too rapidly, but still served to tear at his sanity.

"Steady as she goes, boys, let the subs know, back at the coast, that our high-powered aircruisers are capable of fast and easy mail correspondence delivery, rain, snow, or shine. Test flights are at... Wow! A fifty-percent survival rate! A new record! Is the wireless code system working? Can we get actual sound, even voices over it now? Wow! Those guys back in Orgrimmar, remind me to give them a raise. With a little dynamite under their chairs, naturally!"
A burst of insane laughter spread throughout the top deck of the massive, deluxe AirWhale Class Zeppelin, one of the first of its kind, as the crew cackled a bit over the success of their newest venture. Rach Sawskull's crew was absolutely delighted to've gone out and watch the new-fangled rocket-propelled aerofoiled cruisers actually survive their test run, and now most of the aircruisers were even returning to the redimentary landing bay in the lowest deck of the AirWhale Zeppelin. A few crashed and exploded on the hull, but because of the re-inforced Sharsooth Turtle shells that made up the outer hull, the maintenence crew, in the middle decks, just laughed it off.
Of course, the landing bay was really just a wide berth for Wyvern and Bat riders to land in, and since Rach was always calculating and improving the AirWhale Zeppelin, he was hard to reach by anything but the occasional Wind Rider who'd sail in with information. The AirWhale Zeppelin; he'd christened it unofficially the Flab of Sargeras to his crew, but to Thrall back in Orgrimmar, who only gave him resources by way of hefty bargaining for a rapid-transport system from Mulgore to Orgrimmar through the Barrens, he called it the Flight of Sanity just to keep the abbrieviations consistant.
"Okay, people, adjust coal intake by thirty degrees drop and pull a hard left on the bellows, so we can get back to the landing pad! Maybe if you guys are really nice to the Horde's engineering initiates back in the capital, I'll let you install a custom-fitted observation lounge in the middle and lower decks. You know, those unused rooms, the ones that exploded?"
Rach sat snugly, looking frighteningly undersized in his massive, tauren-sized easy chair command post at the head of the zeppelin, speaking into the wide funnel that served as the ship's intercom system, getting a ring of laughter from the entire FS.
Suddenly, in mid-turn, one of his Observationaries, whose job it was to maintain the multiple, jagged-angled telescopes that shot out from the top deck of the ship in several directions, turned to him.
"Sir," he said, bemused, which is always an odd tone for the normally manic Goblin voice, "I can see some ships in the far distance, about 100 clicks north of the Maelstrom's boundaries!"
They were flying FAR north, it could take them a few hours to make it back down Kalimdor's coast.
"Thrall hasn't sent anyone out this far..." Rach said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "What's the look about them?"
"The ships look human-made! And there's quite a few of them! And they're sailing this way, moving up fast... They'll be at our present location in..." He did some equations in his head, "Two hours..."
"Wow... so that means they'll reach Kalimdor by when... Late next morning? We'd better skedaddle back to Orgrimmar and tell Thrall about this. If they maintain their present course, they're not going to be in Night Elf territory. They'll be near Durotar! Message a few spare zeppelins running our depth charge tests up here to maintain distance with the ships... Don't get in cannon range, assuming they have any. We don't want any casualities (from anyone else)... As long as our wireless system stays up and active, we should be able to keep in contact with them. Continue our course, but let's pick up speed..."
At this point, he leaned back into the funnel.
"Change of plans, guys. You know that special Shaman-blessed kindling I got from the Earthen Ring's guys? Toss them logs in the burner, we're going to need to kick it up a notch to get to Orgrimmar in... two hours."
A whoop of excitement sounded throughout the FS, and after a few minutes, and a few heavy lurches and mechanical groans, the FS shot forward at a frightening pace, racing for the distant shores of Kalimdor.

shadowsong.....he had forgotten his first name a long time ago. after the defeat of his mentor illidan he found out that it was prince arthas who had humiliated his mentor and long time friend since his banishment from his brother.

"lord illidan.....your training for me to become a demon hunter like you was sufficient enough" shadowsong said. "while i cant find you.......i can gain vengeance for you....even if it means teaming with the treatorous nightelve sentinles and the horde." he added as he walked onto a cliff facing the gathering forces between the horde and nightelves at mount hyjal. thought the leaders were not their yet, the orcs were laughing at old war stories and the nightelves were in deep meditation to keep themselves in tune with nature. he slid down the cliff and came to a halt in some bushes. he would reveal himself when and only when...thrall the warchief of the horde had arrived. he had admired thrall for a while like he had illidan and wnated to become enlisted in the horde......but he knew it could never be for he was a nightelve....but pehaps......he could strike a deal with thrall....if his cover wasnt blown first.