Then And Now: The Way We Was

If'n ya reads this blog, then ya know what pictures of me an' the rest of the Team be kinda a big part of it. An' if ya don't read it, well then ya ain't readin' this an' so there ain't really no reason fer me ta done fini

 Vidyala had this post the other day where she had this pic of herself from the early days and a pic of her today self. I thought were kinda interestin', so I went an' dug through the old crap (includins the crap in me original blog, Diary of an Upwardly Mobile Orc) and found the earliest pic fer a bunch of us. Then I took a brand new pic of everybodies (without warnin' so nobodies had time fer ta go change an' make theyselves presentable haha!). Is a few haircut changes a lotta gear changes, heirlooms, heirlooms swapped, transmogrifyin', an' tranmopathy goin' on. We's like that.

Anywho, here we is:

Ratshag Jan 26, 2007

There be me, jumpin' up an' down like a loon just 'cause I'd done made it ta the Stonetalon Mountains. Whoo hoo, a new zone. Way fer ta start the blog off with class and dignity, kid. Gear's changed, of course. Id done tried out some new hairstyles in Northrend but ended up goin' back ta me gray and braids look. Just felt right, ya know. What don't show is the miles on the feet an' the notches on the belt, but you buggers alreadies knew about them.

Ellspeth April 4, 2007

Ellspeth, the team's first 'lock. Puld her outta a Silvermoon orphanage an' set her ta work. Still the same hair. Still the same showin' off her skin. Still psychotic as a glubbernugger.

Gogmoth December 22, 2007

Me kid brother. We was inta 'locks there fer a bit there, weren't we? no real changes here.

Danger Mouse January 9, 2008

Mouse. Still impatient, still a killer, still sportin' that natural dead hairstyle. She done hadda make a name change when she joined me on the Cenarion Circle serververse, but that be about all. And we still know what her real name is.

Ratdorf January 15, 2008

Me, transmogrified inta a dwarf priest. That's right, I were inta transmogrifyin' before it were cool. Over the names I done changed me official name in this form from "Ratshag" ta "Ratdorf", and I done lost the Santa Claus look fer a shorter, braided black-colored stylin'. Get fewer mice livin' in it, that way.

Galertruby January 21, 2008

He's far too busy bein' profound fer ta actuallies go aware or do anythin'. But we loves him anywho.

Alayda February 15, 2008

Alayda the festive shaman. She likes fer ta change her hair every six months or so, so the blue topknow be long gone. Is currently a green mohawk. Still got her tusks though - Alayda be a proud troll beauty an' ain't got no interest in tryin' fer ta look like a elf girl.

Palintera April 15, 2008

Pali's come a long way in Cataclysm, in every respect. She's changed her appearance several times, but always ends up comin' back ta wear she started. 'Course, a lotta the time she looks like a big laser-firin' chicken, but we ain't showin' that today.

Orctacles May 19, 2008

See if'n ya can tell what changed here.

Phoenicia June 14, 2008

The Red Hawt Dwarf Chick is still Red Hawt, roflcopter braids an' all, even if'n ya cain't see'em in this pic. What do be different is she started off prot an' now be fury fury screamin-like-a-loonie fury.

Kinnavieve October 9, 2008

Kinna came on board right at the end of the Burninatin' Crusade, an' I trained her up with the hopes what she could be me replacement as the Team's raider. An' she done succeeded an' made me real proud. Changed her hair and got a lot tougher, but inside she's still that little lumberjack's daughter from Nowhereshire, Elwynn Forest what were taggin' along after me. How'd we get both of us in the same picture? That be a good fuhggin' question....

Vyprania November 14, 2008

Requiescat in pace September 16, 2010

Don' really feel like talkin' 'bout Vyp, just now.

Maurice December 21, 2008

Still the Death Knight of Loooove. Still sportin' that 70s pornstache an' drivin' the wimmenz of Stormwind .... elsewhere.

Jinnik July 10, 2010

Heirlooms. Hard fer ta shake'em, although at some point they's gonna get transmogged inta Ruthless Gladiatiors. Not a lot's changed fer the team's only healer, although she been spendin' more time in BGs than dungeons of late.

The Warrior With No Name August 5, 2010

Still sportin' a mustache so sharp it'll pierce his helmet. Still got no name, even though he done gone from bein' a lowlie bank alt ta GM of the Free Radicals.


Some of the Team members, especiallies thems what joined after the Shattering, don't really done gotten much attention here in the blog, at least nots yet. Mebbe some other time there'll be a retrospectalizin' fer Fink an' Creighton an' Goblin Hunter Boy (By Night Known As Fezziwhig) an' Justina Price Worgen. But that won't be today, 'cause then it would be now an' not then.

Ashenvale

The word was, Kaldorei only. It wass going to be deep in the foressts of Ashenvale, in a place sacred to the Ssentinels. The funeral would be off-limits to outsiderss. People without long ears and purple ssskin would not be permitted.

Fuck that ssshit.

I am Danger Mouse. I go where I want.

So, Legs, here we are. Quite a pair, aren’t we? The dead chick and the even deader chick. I told you not to be a hero up there in Northrend, didn’t I? Sstick to the shadowss, stab them in the back, pick off the weak, let the Ssstrong and the Ssstupid take the pounding in our place. But you had your vendetta, didn’t you? An oath to keep, vengeance to take, and you weren’t going to back off. Not ever.

Fool.

I’d been sskulking about outside the gates of Asstranaar for six hours when the procession finally got their assses in gear and headed out. Everyone was in their finest outfitss, with braids and sparkles and leafsss and other doodads. They had a real nice coffin for you, Legss, lots of trees and birds and ssstars carved on it, with silver inlayss. It was open to the sky, which I think you would have liked. Although ssome prude had lain a strip of cloth over your face, where your eyess would have been. They had the coffin on a caisssson being pulled by an honor guard in very shiny armor - I guess nightssabres make pretty loussy beasts sof burden, and kodos or furbolgss are beneath Kaldorei dignity. Anyway, I followed them down the road for about five miles, then we turned off onto a ssomewhat overgrown trail, which led us to this sspot.

You had about a hundred folkss turn out for you, Legs. Tyrande Whisperwind and Sshandriss Feathermoon were both there, and Tyrande even talked for a bit. It was in Darnasssian, of course, so I didn’t undersstand any of it, but i thought it sounded suitably ssolemn and praise-heaping. From their tabardss, I could spot people from The Left Claw, and Parallel, and Aetherial Circle. There were also a few ssporting worn and faded tabardss with a design I couldn’t place, though it seemed familiar. I recognized Ratterss’ old friend Bellwether, and Kinnavieve’s friend Shianti. And of course the druid twinss were there. That Feral chick was even fully dressed - never sseen her do that, unless sshe on armor and was looking for a fight. Palintera, she got up and sstarted to talk. Too bad you weren’t here to translate for me; I was curiouss to know what sshe was saying. She broke down before sshe finisshed, though; completely losst it. Feralicious had to come up and lead her away. I think she was crying too. I actually felt bad for them, you know. I mean, they annoy me (maybe becausse they’re like a hundred years old but act like teenagerss, and I never got a chance to, I don’t know), but I know they cared about you too. Ssucksss all around, I guess.

After a while, everyone was done talking. They closed the coffin, and lowered you into the ground, and covered you with dirt. And then they left, and it’s jusst you and me, Legs. You aren’t coming out of there, are you? No more rebirthss for Vyprania. You know, all these yearss, I’ve never missed my eyes. Not until now. Because I really want to cry too, and I fucking can’t. Not a lot of people are willing to be friendss with the dead girl, the one with half a face and flesh rotting away, and kind of mean, but you were. And I--

I really--

I really miss you. I wissh you hadn’t died.

....

....

....

I gotta go.

Legs, I don’t know much about godss, and religion, and all that. I pretty much leave them alone, and hope they’ll do the ssame to me. Yeah, I tell people to “embrace the Shadow”, but that’s mostly because I know it makes them uncomfortable. I know, though, that Elune was sstill your goddess, after everything, and I hope, I really do, that wherever you are now, you are with her. But if you aren’t, if that just wassn’t in the cardss, then may the Dark Lady watch over you.

:: vanish ::

Vyprania's Story: Endgame

dark .... very dark .... is it night time? .... where are the stars? ....

I'm cold .... so cold .... that's not right .... I never feel cold ....

Pain .... hurts .... not good .... like being on fire .... but cold .... can fire be cold? .... don't want to move ... need to .... need ....

I'm supposed to be doing something .... what is it? .... is it important? .... Arthas .... must .... kill .... Arthas .... soon .... get up soon .... just need to rest a minute first ....

Where are the voices? .... They .... they tell me what to do .... whom to kill .... how to serve justice .... I can hear them, but .... quiet .... mumbling .... far away .... muffled .... can't understand what they want me to do .... maybe I'll rest a minute .... and then they will come back .... yes .... rest ....

I hear footsteps .... coming towards me .... quick, light, soft steps .... like a child ....

"Jessika! Keredria!" It's Buns. Cute little, wisecracking, soul-devouring Buns. Hi Buns. "Get over here! Now! I think she's still alive!"

I hear more footsteps now, running. All around me .... and voices ....

"How did she-?"
"Stay back - give her air!"
"Her eyes! Sweet Elune, what happened to-?"
"Vyp! Vyp, can you hear-?"
"Will she-?"
"By the Light, that's bad, very bad."

Someone knelt down beside me and took my hand in hers. Even through my armored gauntlets the contact was comforting - I felt less alone, less isolated. Why couldn't I see anything?

"Vyprania, it's Jessika. Can you you hear me? Hang in there, kid. Nicolause and K are here, and they're gonna fix you up good as new."

Everyone was here, standing around me .... did that mean ....? "jess..." I whispered. I did not recognize my voice - it was weak and dry and raspy and dead, so very dead. The voice of an ancient mummy. And it hurt so much to talk. But, I had to know. ".... did .... we ...."

"We did, Vyp. Arthas is dead. It was damn close, and I thought it was over when I tripped and fell. But you saved my ass, charging in like you did and getting his attention off of me. You bought us time. That made all the difference, those few seconds. Bravest thing I ever saw."

".... fool .... didn't .... care .... you .... only .... wanted .... kill .... "

She gripped my hand tighter. "Still counts, kid. Still counts. Now keep quiet, and let our healers do their job."

I could hear Keredria's leaves and branches rustling furiously, as if blown by a strong wind. I could hear Nicolause chanting, beseeching his formless god. But I felt nothing. No warm glow, no renewed vigor, no easing of the pain. It wasn't working, I could tell.

"I am afraid there is nothing you can do for her", a new voice spoke up. "She has been deep in the Shadow for a long time, for years, and the Defile has thoroughly penetrated every cell of her body. The Light cannot reach her, brother, nor can Elune, sister druid. Even if A'dal himself were to come here, I fear it would beyond him to save her."

Tirion? Tirion had always believed in us death knights, ever since the day he saved us at Light's Hope. He had spoken for us to his own paladins, to the Alliance, to the Horde. He had treated the Ebon Blade as equals, when no one else would. And now he was abandoning me.

The Light does not abandon its champions.

A'dal had said this, when he took up the soul of Crusader Brindenbrad, out on the glaciers of Icecrown. The Naaru could not save his dying body, but it could end his suffering, and grant him eternal bliss. But Death Knight Vyprania is not Crusader Brindenbrad, is she? I brought the Scourge to the last living city of Lordaeron, with fire and terror and rape and slaughter. I embraced evil, and revelled in it. I murdered my own friends! No, Tirion was right. I was too far gone. It was time to end it.

Only one task remained. ".... jessika ...." My whisper was even fainter than before.

"I'm here, Vyp. What is it?"

".... tell .... Tryande .... tell .... Sentinels .... mission .... com .... plete .... ed ....."

She was silent for a moment. Debating how to respond, maybe. "All right, Sentinel Vyprania," she said at last. "I will tell them."

I could hear them talking for a while longer, but I could not understand anymore. It was becoming too soft, too far away. Eventually, the voices of my companions faded away completely. The voices in my head faded away too, and then I was alone in the darkness.



Except for the boy.

Matthias Lehner was different somehow. The calm dispassionate child who had led me across Icecrown, revealing vague hints and maddening clues about Arthas' past was now nervous, wide-eyed, weak. Vulnerable.

"I know who you are now, don't I?" I asked him.

"Yes, you do, Vyprania," he replied, looking up at me.

I thought for a moment, looking into his face. Then I sat down, my eyes now at the same level as his.

"It's all right," I said at last. "I think I understand."

I wondered why I could see again. I wondered why I wasn't dying anymore, even though I was still in pain. I wondered where I was.

After a while, he spoke. "Vyprania. I want to go home. But I don't know the way."

"So would I, Matthias. So would I."

Could I go home? Would Elune allow me to return? I had sinned against her, against the world, most horribly. If there was a way home - for either of us - it would be long and hard. But I remembered the story Priestess Celyse had told me when I was a little girl. The story of the prodigal daughter, who had destroyed all her family had done for her, but when she came home again, poor and broken, they had accepted her and loved her, and Elune blessed them for it. Maybe Elune would accept me and love me too, if only I could find my way home.

I peered into the darkness. Shadows flitted across shadows. Silent whispers taunted me. Blind eyes watched my movements. But there, over there, something, maybe, ....

"Matthias, I think I see a path, over this way. Maybe it will take us home."

"It looks scary over there." The shadows flitted faster, looming, reaching.

"Yes, it does. I think it looks very scary. But maybe, if we stick together, we can get through it."

I stood up, and reached out with my hand. He took it, and together we started down the path.

 Vyprania's Story :

Screaming For Vengeance

Screaming For Blood

Screaming For Justice

The Priest

The Orc

The Rogue, The Paladin, and The Druids

Outland

Northrend

Grizzly Hills

The Suicide Mission

Do You Hear Me?

We Press On

The Frozen Throne

Vyprania's Story: The Frozen Throne

At last, we reached it. The Frozen Throne, the heart of Arthas'empire of horrors. It perched at the top of a giant pillar of ice, a monument to his vanity and megalomania. When we reached it, we saw that he was personally overseeing the torture of Bolvar Fordragon, whom I thought had died at the Battle of the Wrathgate. For a few minutes, we faced each other, the Lich King and the Left Claw. In my head, I could hear voices screaming in my head, but faintly, as if from a great distance.

Blood!

Vengeance!

Justice!

Then Arthas let out a low, rasping laugh. He stood, and began walking down the steps toward us. "So come then, you heroes! Come in all your power and glory!" he taunted. "For in the final hour, all must serve the one... true... king!" With that, he drew Frostmourne and charged.

Blood!

Vengeance!

Justice!

Jessika met his charge. She was wearing special armor, reinforced with thick saronite and magic runes to allow her to withstand his blows. I sought to get behind him, using my speed to land quick blows and then dart back. Others cast fireballs and shadowbolts at him from a distance, or grappled with the zombies and ghouls he summoned, corpses of our former allies.

Blood!

Vengeance!

Justice!

Arthas was a powerful foe, far stronger than the minions we had dispatched fighting our way through the citadel. He hurled frost and shadow magics at us. His val'kyr swept in and tried to sweep us from the platform. But we adapted and adjusted and fought on. We were hardened veterans, fighting to rid the world of a terrible evil, and we would not be stopped.

Blood!

Vengeance!

Justice!

Suddenly, Jessika was down. She had tripped over a corpse, and landed on her back, temporarily helpless. Arthas moved in for the kill, leaving himself vulnerable as I came in from behind. This was it. This was my chance to end it, once and for all. I gripped my swords tightly and leaped.

Blood!

Vengeance!

Jus-

I'm all right. Just got the wind knocked out of me *cough*, is all. Give me a minute to *cough* catch my breath, and then I'll get back in the fight. I can *cough* hear them, hear the swords, hear the *cough* fireballs. They *cough* need me. Okay, I can *cough* do this. Here I*cough*
*cough*
*cough*
*cough*
*cough*
Blood. Not good. Why am I coughing blood? Am I *cough* wounded? It's all so cold, I *cough* can't tell. But I need to get back into the *cough* fight. Arthas must die, he must pay*cough*
*cough*
*cough*
Sweet Elune, what is that? A *cough* black cloud, rolling across the ground, getting closer. Can't let it reach me. Gotta *cough* move. C'mon, Vyprania. Move. gotta move gotta move gotta move gotta gotta gotta gotta

Vyprania's Story: We Press On

After defeating the young orc, The Left Claw entered the upper spire of Ice Crown Citadel. Arthas had clear been busy during his years of exile here in the North, constructing an enormous fortress high above the plateau. Perhaps it extended deep into the glaciers as well - it was hard to judge the scale of the place. One could not help but feel tiny and insignificant amidst such gigantic architecture.

I suspect that was the idea.

We left Muradin and his marines to guard the landing platform while we advanced into the citadel. At first resistance was light - evidently they had not expected us to be able to defeat Saurfang, and had not concentrated reserves behind him. Within an hour, however, we began to be attacked from above by winged Val'kyr. We managed to drive them off without anyone being knocked off of the catwalks, but there were several close calls. We reached an unexposed section of the citadel, and realized we were in the heart of Arthas' research department. Huge tubes with plague solutions running through them, undead gnome scientists in gas masks, dogs constructed from spare body parts and wearing collars identifying them as "Precious" and "Stinky". Completing the nightmarish horror were two giant abominations, even larger and more powerful than the patchwerk monstrosity that had once roamed the halls of Naxxramas. At the center of it all we found "Professor Putricide", the mad scientist behind it all. He looked like he might have once been someone's sweet but absent-minded uncle, but he fought us with everything he had - slimes, plagues, transforming potions. We took casualties, but in the end we slew him.

And then we pressed on.

It took four days to work our way through the citadel, clearing room by room. We slept in shifts, some resting while others pushed forward. Sometimes the Argent Crusade or the Knights of the Ebon Blade were able to lend us reinforcements, but usually we were on our own. We were tired, hungry, bloodied. Scared. Would we reach the end of this nightmare alive, or was it all just another of Arthas' traps? We fought through the San'layn, the Darkfallen, the doomed one-time followers of Kael'thas, now helpless minions of the Lich King. Were we destined to end our days like them? I watched hopelessly as the Val'kyr champion Sister Svalna struck down Captain Rupert of the Argent Crusade, only to raise him up as her minion. He had been one of the few Argent Crusade officers to accept me as a peer and show an understanding of what it meant to be a former agent of Arthas, even though he was Forsaken and not a death knight. Nevertheless, when he began throwing his grenades against us I was forced to cut him down with my swords, and the voices in my head cried out for his blood as strongly as they did for any other enemy. It made me weep in bitterness and frustration.

And then we pressed on.

We rescued a member of the green dragonflight, Valithria Dreamwalker, who was being held prisoner and tortured. We fought through waves of undead Nerubians and Vrykul. We reached the nesting platform of Arhtas' greatest weapons, his frost wyrms. There was Rimefang, who had caused so much disruption to the raid at the Pit of Saron. There was his sibling Spinestalker. And there was Sindragosa, once the proud consort of Malygos, slain by Neltharion, and now yet another of the Lich King's puppets. She was a powerful, spiteful foe, and her frost aura and icy tombs nearly destroyed us all. But we held firm, and our healers kept us standing, and in the end she fell before us. Perhaps now she could be at peace. If so, then maybe there could be hope for me as well.

And then we pressed on.

"Don't Go Nowheres," Sez The Raid Leader. "I Be Right Back"

So of course Vyprania and her friends immediatelies runs and hides in an alcove. Of course, them silly buggers forgots what Jessika still could see thems all on her mini-map as soon as she got back. Hidefail.

As a fellow guild and raid leader what also gots ta put up with all sorts of tomfooleries, I feels fer Jess. I really does.

On the other hands, it do gives me an excuse what ta post a shot of Keredria's nekkid backside...

Stand Back!

This ain't lookin' too fuhggin' safe ta me....

No One Gets To Call Her That But Me!

What's a herkamuckle, Legs?

Not really sure, Mouse. Some sort of a Vrykul artifact, I suppose. I just know it helps me hit harder than that beer coaster I picked up in the Grim Guzzler. You should go get one for yourself.

Yeah, well, I'm sstill just in my fortieth season. Those fancy-pants vendors in Dalaran won't even talk to me.

Oh, that's right. I forgot you were a slacker.

Look who'sss talking, loot whore.

Sewer rodent!

Tree-hugger!

Banshee's pet!

Creepy dead chick!

I know you are, but what am I?

Love ya, Legss.

Love you too, Mouse.

Vyprania's Story: Do You Hear Me?

Do you hear me, Arthas? Do you hear the screams in my head? Screams for blood, for vengeance, for justice? Do you hear my boots climbing your stairs? Do you hear the footsteps of my companions? Not that useless frill Jaina and some sacrificial lambs, but the members of The Left Claw - veterans of Karazhan and Naxxramas and Ulduar. We are coming for you, Arthas! Do you hear me?

Do you hear the crunching of the bones, as we walk across the remains of the monstrosity you named "Lord Marrowgar"? Did you hear the wind howl as he spun, trying in vain to strike us? Did you hear the rattle as he collapsed, the energies that held him together drained? Do you hear your doom approaching?

Did you hear the wail of your lich bitch Lady Deathwhisper as we cut through her minions and smashed her shields? Did you hear the crash as we shattered the crystal sphere she retreated into as her life force drained away? Do you hear the voices in my head shouting in triumph? They are so very loud, Arthas.

Did you hear the sad wail as we struck down the young Orc? I remember fighting at his side at the Wrathgate, and I took no pleasure in his death. But you enslaved him as you once enslaved me, and so it was necessary that he die one last time. You will enslave no more souls, Arthas! Do you hear me?

Do you hear us coming, Arthas? Do you hear your minions dying, your defenses cracking? Do you hear my voices, beating inside my head, demanding an end to it? They are louder than ever, Arthas! Do they not deafen you, as they do me? We are coming for you, Arthas! You have brought pain and misery to everything you touch, but your time is nearly at an end. Soon you will leave this world, and never return. And then, my the Light you once served have mercy on your soul, for I never will. Do you hear me? I never will!