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Morita (Member) 8/29/2005 7:53 AM EST : BREGDARK (Preservation from Umbral Origins))

Morita
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Place me up on the mantelpiece, dearie, so that I can see you more clearly.

Yes, Grandma Raels

Now turn me around so I can see the room. And see you both.

Yes Grandma Raels

My, but you both have grown. A whole foot at least, the two of you! Did you enjoy the moon cakes and toy weapons I sent you? And the mechanical squirrel?

Yes Grandma Raels

We both did

You really should send mail more often; it's very lonely here in the box. All I do is think of you. I miss you very much, you know.

Aww, okay Grandma Raels

We'll try

[hearing the Undercity bank's clock strike three] Now I think we've used up enough of Grandma Rael's time and I'm sure she's tired, yes. Let's return her to her box now, yes.

All right if we hafta

Okay Uncle Bregdark if you say so

Here you go, my dear Raels, back you go, yes!

Goodbye my dears, I do love you. And Bregdark, I hope you'll pay the deposit to the gnomes promptly, I do want to see you all again soon. I wouldn't want the battery to expire.

Of course I will, Raels, yes. Don't fret, no. We'll see you very soon, I'm sure, yes. Careful, Taun, watch how you --

[crash]

Taun you broke Grandma Raels [tears]

Grandma? Grandma?

Taun, how could you? Yes? Do you know how expensive she was? Now we'll have to get another one, dammit, yes.

Grandma, Grandma say something Grandma she's okay Uncle Breggy I know she is

Taun, Akos, where are my goggles? It's very dark. Very very dark. Goodbye, children, I love you very very very very very very Very Very Very VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY

Loud it's so loud

Bregdark make it stop make her stop make Grandma Raels stop

[stomping with both feet]

VERY VERY VERY Very very very it's so dark ... and so -- c-cold [click]

Don't cry, children, it's dead now, yes. I'll buy us a new one, much better, a newer model, yes. You'll love her a lot more, I promise, yes. Hush now, Taun, it would have happened sooner or later. Yes. I'll get the non-breakable model next time, yes. There was one I saw for sale in Ratchet.

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Morita (Member) 8/29/2005 8:36 AM EST : RE: BREGDARK (Preservation from Umbral Origins))

Morita
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Bregdark opened the lid to the coffin, blinked away the lingering nightmares of green fields and laughing children, and gazed around the Undercity Inn ("Since 1103, Reservations not Required, Please Clean Up Your Own Ichor").

Bregdark suddenly realized he had no further time to waste. Jumping up and shaking away his foggy demeanor, he said aloud to the innkeeper, "It is time, yes, time! Indeed! Long have I journeyed, but now is, yes, the time!"

Bregdark opened his packs, and dumped the contents onto the floor of the inn. A vast array of items spilled out, clattering and clanking with an unbelievable din, and scattering the hissing roaches that darted around the inn's floor.

After the items came to a rest, Bregdark took inventory:
  • Gold, silver, electrum, copper, and aluminum coins, each stamped with Thrall in profile, except for a few ancient platinum coins showing an obscure Lordaenian bishop with no nose;
  • a glowing severed hand, three of its four fingers clenching and unclenching rhythmically, the fourth chewed off and with a line of untanned skin showing where a ring used to be;
  • frayed ends of runethread, hopelessly knotted up with catgut and wolftwine;
  • various crystals (blood red, vomit green, ghoul blue, urine yellow, and plaid);
  • soggy pieces of icecap with its roots all tangled up in ghastly glowing green ghost mushrooms, stuck to tufts of golden yellow sungrass;
  • bear bits, bat bits, boar bits, bacon bits, and blisterpaws;
  • a dog's chew toy about as large as a dinosaur's femur;
  • a dusty pair of spectacles in which a pair of bloodshot eyeballs floated and glared menacingly;
  • six different volumes of the "To Serve Man" series (a 20-volume set), each carefully annotated in Bregdark's spidery handwriting; the Ogre-penned copy was blood-spattered and dog-eared but included the most creative recipes, such as one for Spit-Roasted Paladin au Gratin with Quail Egg, Gromsblood and Quince sauce;
  • a sky blue shield apparently fashioned for a stormrage giant, its device being two owlbears rampant surrounding a unicorn being crushed by a boulder (the innkeeper wondered briefly how such a large item, easily seven feet across, had fit within Bregdark's pack);
  • a half-chewed love-apple, riddled with preening felworms;
  • three homemade love-apple and felworm pies, probably from the same source (even Raels didn't want these pies);
  • a glowing vision shard intended for Akos, having been disenchanted from a Stalwart Firepoker of the Eagle;
  • sixteen miniature brownies trapped in a sand-floor snowglobe, dancing around a sign saying, "Welcome to Feralas, now go home";
  • a picture snapped from a Goblin Instamatic6000 camera showing Ashlin, suspended upside down from a venomous jungle creeper, swinging towards two unaware Night Elves to lick them from above;
  • a Bloodscalp Denfather Ragewarden Pathfinder's spine twisted into the shape of a pretzel;
  • a pink box containing a Booty Bay pepper jack and ichortuber omelette, with a side of wilted briarthorn lettuce;
  • two bronze and copper eyetubes, which, when gazed through and held up to an Undercity streetlamp, showed scenes from a naga-on-naga orgy;
  • a third form attendance schoolbook from a one-room schoolhouse in Sen'Jin, showing that Kuul had nearly perfect attendance and that Okrth had ditched almost every day in Summer;
  • Devout Earmuffs, designed to fit a troll's ears, stamped "Heche en Gadgetzan";
  • a wind-up ornate Arcanium Tauren-in-a-box; when you pressed the button, a miniature Tauren brave wearing a purple Cenarion feather headdress jumped up and sneezed out a ribald nursery in Old Church Taurahee;
  • a well-worn set of twill cargo pants;
  • on mooncloth parchment, a number of draft death threats penned by various troll rogues from the Brotherhood of Dusk that Bregdark knew well;
  • the deed to Blackrock Mountain's Molten Bridge;
  • a vial of Essence of Ganked Night Elf;
  • a whistle used to summon the shade of a demilich accountant;
  • a scrawled Golkan Centaur clan chief I.O.U. made out to Taun: "Danks fa killin' all dem enemy hoofs an soon as I open up a store, I gonna gif you 3% off, k?"
  • the Libram of Facetiousness;
  • a gnome skull fashioned into a festive drinking cup, with a crazy straw made out of dwarf intestine; in the cup, a few drops of Volatile White Vodka with a twist of bloodlime;
  • the lower antenna (made of tainted mithril) from something called a SuperDeluxxe Healbot 3000;
    and
  • well over six hundred deadwood furbolg scalps and eight hundred scourge deathcage skeleton pelvises.


Bregdark sighed, and grabbed the innkeeper's arm. "My fellow Forsaken," Bregdark began, "Yes. These, indeed, are the treasures of my many journeys, aye, my most valuable belongings, my wonderful toys. Yes. I shall miss them all, truly, but I must to gather funds to purchase my steed, now that I am qualified. Yes. How many riches will you pile upon me in exchange for these invaluable and priceless artifacts?"

The innkeeper took out his abacus (its beads made from the finger- and toe-bones of direfeather harpies), and began calculating. No item did the innkeeper refuse; even the stinking raptor livers and wretched murloc pubic hair wigs were assigned a value on the innkeeper's toteboard.

Finally, the innkeeper wrote down a figure (using a pen made of a kobold's manhood, and ink of pure boiled gryphon blood, and a parchment of pristine whitherbark back skin). The innkeeper handed the parchment to Bregdark with a flourish.

"What! Outrageous! Preposterous! Absurd! Impossible! Unexpected! Yes!" Bregdark seethed and foamed. "That little? For the accumulated treasures of a grandmaster senior herbalist, inner circle member in good standing, Staff Sergeant duly commissioned, and Board-certified Doctor of Combat Surgery and Triage? Yes? Not to mention Unholy Cardinal, Adjunct Undercity Lecturer in Linguistics and Semiotics, and Valor-Token Approved Scourge Buster Extraordinaire?" Bregdark walked circles and jumped up and down in frustration. "Fourteen times! Fourteen times that amount, I demand it, yes. At the very least eight times as much."

The innkeeper folded his arms and said nothing.

Minutes passed.

Finally, Bregdark sighed, nodded, and took the coins. He left the inn without another word, glaring one final time at the innkeeper and subtly casting a wasting disease of short duration that would cause distress to the innkeeper's bladder (but no other lasting ill effects).

With growing despondence, Bregdark totaled up his fortunes: A hair less than fifty and one hundred pieces of gold.

"Gah!" said Bregdark, thinking longingly of the fearsome undead steed that he had fancied ever since he had first laid eyes upon it in Brill, all those years ago. "Gah and gah! Alas. So little. Oh so little, indeed. Now, I suppose, it's back to the grind, yes."


((Thanks to all the Umbrals and Duskies and Maurauders and other Hordies for your support and aid! Love to you all.))

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Bregdark (SuperAdmin) 10/13/2006 2:29 PM EST : RE: BREGDARK (Preservation from Umbral Origins))
Father Doctor Sergeant
Bregdark
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Aftermath of the Resignation of Deathguard #862

((Follows from The Resignation of Deathguard #862 by Balthasar and Sonna))
 
Midnight. Bregdark gingerly stepped off the back of the giant bat and surveyed Tarren Mill.

It was peaceful. Only the Deathguards stirred.

Bregdark looked surprised. Casually mumbling the usual power wordsof protection and fortitude, he prepared for battle... but no foesappeared forthcoming.

Bregdark remembered the waves of countless opponents swarming thissmall village, and he winced to think of the blows and spells that hadstruck him down in the past. But to look around Tarren Mill, there wasno evidence of the past battles at all.

Bending down to examine the grass, grass that Bregdark knew haddrunk the blood of a thousand slain defenders, Bregdark could seenothing but clean soil. Where were the small bones? The scorched earth?

A Deathguard patrollednearby. Bregdark stood and with sudden fury unleashed a spell thatdazed the hapless guard, knocking him to the ground.

"Damn you, yes," said Bregdark, standing over the Deathguard, preparing to swing his yew staff at the guard's temple. "Damn you for cleaning up the history, indeed."

It took perhaps five or ten guards, rushing from their posts, torestrain the frothing priest and pull him from the throat of histarget. Kicking him, dragging him, they finally separated Bregdark and,at a loss, they threw him into the basement of the nearby church.

Very quickly afterwards, there was no sign that Bregdark had been there at all. 

Characters: Bregdark
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Bregdark (SuperAdmin) 10/13/2006 2:33 PM EST : The Gathering Storm
Father Doctor Sergeant
Bregdark
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Posted by:
Xiangxiang
Level 58 Undead Mage
Guild: The Macabre
Realm: Bloodscalp

(( Hey guys this is my 1st RP story can you tell me how i did?))

As the smoek settles around her feet XIANGXIANG arises fromt he ashes, She cracks her whip and summons a FLEET of Large sharks equipped with high tec lazerz, "GO MY PRITTIES SLAY THESE GHEY RPERZ, ITS OK CAUSE THEY SUCK @ PVP!" The fleet of sharks with lazerz swim forth and start to PEWPEW all you ghey featherF@G RPerz.

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Welcome to PvP s0n

((Posted in response by me, sorta kinda OOCly))

The courier was an Orc this time, wearing a sable cloak but still shivering as the winds stirred around Lordaeron. He had arrived at midnight's bells, just when Bregdark awoke. Despite the late hour, the Inn at the Undercity was busy. Shoving his way past the crowded mailbox, the courier placed his letter into Bregdark's claws.

The old priest read the letter twice, and nodded grimly. He turned to the courier and stared at him for a long moment. The courier coughed, shifting his weight back and forth, thinking that it was impossible read any emotion when looking at Bregdark's ravaged face and those cold yellow eyes.

Bregdark spoke, his deep voice echoing in that dark room. "Listen well, because I say this but once, yes. You tell the Commander that when the Warsong Outriders call upon me, I will respond, yes. Of late the engineers and alchemists of the Undercity have been busy studying the Dwarven weapon, yes. We have managed to open the crate and pierce the secrets of the item within, indeed. We have mastered its cruel workings, and many will indeed die. Yes. As promised, we pledge this weapon to the Orcs of Warsong, indeed, and we will deliver you from the elves and other interlopers, yes. The clearcutting can and must continue, indeed." With a dismissive gesture, Bregdark waved away the courier.

Rain fell the next morning, and a low fog obscured the normally bright sun of the Barrens. A team had assembled, as had been planned, but where there would normally be a certain excitement at the prospect of battle, and a gleeful sharpening of weapons and polishing of armor, today the mood was low. No one spoke. When the crate arrived, pulled up by a cart-and-Kodo, everyone stood up and watched, forming a loose circle around the weapon that had been promised.

Bregdark cleared his throat. "We all know, yes, the cost in lives and misery that we have paid for this weapon. Yes. And yet few know the risks we face in deploying it this day, indeed. At heart it was designed to wipe the Forsaken from Azeroth, yes. While many of the Dark Lady's brightest minds and sharpest engineers have devoted themselves to the cause of reversing this weapon for use against the elves, we face this day with a certain trepidation."

In the northern distance, a single trumpet call could be heard.

"It begins," said the priest. "Shadows cloak you all. We do today what we must, despite the awful nature of what we unleash. Yes."

As one, the team of ten, each hand-picked for their role in the mission, filed into the wood mill. For once the woodcutters stopped their ceaseless axe work, and saluted those who came to fight under the flag of the Warsong Outriders: Samhuinn first, looking more at his feet than anywhere else. Raels, darting from shadow to shadow. Loche, standing tall, his knives gleaming. General Rakor striding boldly forward, a wolf at his side. Linedan, carrying a mace almost as tall as him. Levie, with shadows and energy crackling around her. Bregdark next, muttering to himself. Okrth, Bladebreaker, Ont, and Lajjun came last, guiding the cart forward carefully.

Within the mill, they waited for the gates to open, knowing they faced strangers -- mercenaries and cutthroats hired by the elves for no small coin, gathered from distant lands. Full of bravado and bold talk these mercenaries were. But they knew not the weapon they faced this day, a weapon stolen from the First Dwarves, powered by the black souls far beneath the Core and Blackwing Lair and the other pits of Azeroth. A secret weapon unlike any ever before seen.

The gates opened, and the horns rang out.

Where normally they would ride forward and try to control the midfield, instead today the ten honorary Outriders formed a ring around the crate, and watched as Bregdark opened it. Together all ten voices began chanting. The gleaming sphere within rose off the ground, and all light drained out of the room. All noise was dampened out. The sphere grew in size.

"Now!" Bregdark cried, "yes! Unleash your great and terrible energies, you foul gods who should be long dead! Yes! We command this ancient Orb to obliterate our enemies. Yes." A cold far worse than any winter freeze spread from the ominous sphere.

The first of the elves and dwarves and humans and gnomes were now charging into the banner room, knowing that something was wrong, something was different this time -- and they saw the great sphere, with its strange lights blinding them, and an unholy wail emanating from within. Their hopes were dashed, and their spirits failed them. One warrior fell to his knees, openly weeping.

A sudden crack and the sphere broke apart. This was the moment of destruction. Within the sphere, a strange object floated, metallic and covered with what seemed like gun barrels. The sphere began spinning, faster and faster until its features were too blurry to distinguish. Then the lights shot out, striking all around it with such energy that their bodies were turned to nothing but ash and smoke.

The noise of the ancient weapon was unmistakable:

PEW
PEW
PEW PEW
PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW
PEW PEW PEW PEW
PEW PEW PEW
PEW PEW
PEW PEW
PEW
PEW PEW
PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW
PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW
PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW

Characters: Bregdark
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Lajjun (Member) 10/13/2006 2:54 PM EST : RE: BREGDARK (Preservation from Umbral Origins))
Lajjun
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((*happy sigh* Thank you for sharing these stories about Bregdark. So many details, so well done! ))

Characters: Rebecah Alonora Aedras
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Ontadin (SuperAdmin) 12/17/2006 2:51 AM EST : RE: BREGDARK (Preservation from Umbral Origins))
Ontadin
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(( The following story I actually saved off of the Feathermoon forums because I enjoyed it so.  It was an addition to Balthasar's great "The Resignation of Deathguard #862" thread in which Bregdark just totally blew me away.  Anyhow, not sure if this is the proper place for it or not but I wanted it on the board somewhere. ))

 
Midnight. Bregdark gingerly stepped off the back of the giant bat and surveyed Tarren Mill.

It was peaceful. Only the Deathguards stirred.

Bregdark looked surprised. Casually mumbling the usual power words of protection and fortitude, he prepared for battle... but no foes appeared forthcoming.

Bregdark remembered the waves of countless opponents swarming this small village, and he winced to think of the blows and spells that had struck him down in the past. But to look around Tarren Mill, there was no evidence of the past battles at all.

Bending down to examine the grass, grass that Bregdark knew had drunk the blood of a thousand slain defenders, Bregdark could see nothing but clean soil. Where were the small bones? The scorched earth?

A Deathguard patrolled nearby. Bregdark stood and with sudden fury unleashed a spell that dazed the hapless guard, knocking him to the ground.

"Damn you, yes," said Bregdark, standing over the Deathguard, preparing to swing his yew staff at the guard's temple. "Damn you for cleaning up the history, indeed."

It took perhaps five or ten guards, rushing from their posts, to restrain the frothing priest and pull him from the throat of his target. Kicking him, dragging him, they finally separated Bregdark and, at a loss, they threw him into the basement of the nearby church.

Very quickly afterwards, there was no sign that Bregdark had been there at all. 


Characters: Ont
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Bregdark (SuperAdmin) 12/18/2006 8:29 AM EST : RE: BREGDARK (Preservation from Umbral Origins))
Father Doctor Sergeant
Bregdark
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((Thanks Ont, but scroll up! It's up there already, thanks to you having emailed it to me when it was lost. *grin*))

Characters: Bregdark
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