Nether Council Open House! (Open RP)

[Malebrignon]

Setting: Orgrimmar, The Drag

A hand-painted sign is posted across from the herbalist’s. A rope ladder hangs down from an opening above. The sign reads:

“Nether Council Open House

Petitions will be heard.
Targets will be chosen.
Any and all business will be entertained!”

Those venturing up the ladder will find themselves in an open hall. Several crudely carved pillars line the sides of the torch-lit room. A male tauren with a large plainstrider-feather duster diligently removes cobwebs from the chamber, Chairs of various sizes are lined along the west wall. The south wall of the room is dominated by a set of tables pushed together. In front of each seat at the table, a tabard has been hung to represent the various guilds within the Council. The only seat occupied is behind the Decimate tabard. An old lich in ink-stained purple vestments plays absently with his paddle-ball. A folded piece of paper in front of him reads: “My name is Malebrignon, please disturb me.”

[Moolberry]

Moolberry is wandering about in Orgrimmar looking for some meeting that Brother Runehorn had asked her to attend as a representative of Clan of the Crimson Hand. Noticing a sign in the Drag advertising "Nether Council Open House," she lets a short sigh and turns toward her newfound destination.

After nearly getting knocked over by a pair of orcs on worgs, and a troll on a raptor, she had come to the entryway. "Where's the fire!?" She shouts angrily as her assailants continue around the corner.

Both curious and unsure about this Nether Council, Moolberry stands on the second rung of the rope ladder and pops her head up into the room to see Malebrignon.

[Malebrignon]

Looking up at the newcomer, Malebrignon springs from his seat, knocking the chair beneath him and sending himself sprawling headfirst into the floor. The tauren with the duster guffaws uncontrollably.

"Quiet, Walt! Get back to work!"

Turning to Moolberry: "Welcome to our new digs! How can I help ya?"

[Moolberry]

As the events leading to Malebrignon's greeting begin to unfold, Moolberry's left brow rises to an arch. "I wonder if perhaps I should be asking you that," she says as she finishes climbing into the hall.

She turns her gaze to the Tauren with a duster.
"I am so glad I chose a career in breaking things rather than cleaning them," she thinks at the scolding.

"I am Moolberry, of the Clan of the Crimson Hand." she states flatly with a hand outstretched to assist the Forsaken to his feet.

"I am here to represent my Clan at the Nether Council. I believe you have been in correspondence with Runehorn."

[Malebrignon]

"Oh, yes, yes! I have indeed spoken with Runehorn. I'm glad you've decided to join us! The Council grows stronger daily."

*looks around and frowns at the empty room*

"Well, we really are strong, I promise you! Please choose your place at the table. Things aren't arranged in any purple order. The obtuses just haven't plethora'd yet, I bethink!"

[Moolberry]

Moolberry appears confused at the nonsense coming from Malebrignon's mouth.

"Well thank you er, mage?" Her eyes travel his purple robes.

"But you should know that we haven't yet decided to join. We would like to see more of the Council, and what it represents first," she says as she looks about for what seems to be the most unimportant seat.

"Do you mind if I sit there?" She motions towards the stool she has chosen.

[Malebrignon]

"Oh, yes, yes. Please sit. Make comfys and such. I'll be happy to exhume it towards you grey....err.... a marble, please?"

*retrieves a backpack from behind his chair*

*removes a green cowl from his pack and draws it tightly about his head*

"Many apologies. Wasn't quite ready for speaking yet. The Nether Council represents both the strength and individuality of the Horde. We realize that folks who know each other well tend to stick together and become a cohesive fighting force. However, sometimes that's just not enough. That's where the Nether Council comes into play.

In times of war, we'll fight beside you.

In times of peril, we'll come to the rescue.

In times of joy, we'll celebrate with you.

In times of strife, we'll band together and overcome.

The Nether Council will do as much for you and yours as you are willing to do for ours. Some of our members join simply for the dazzling conversation, but most are here so they can find stalwart companions to back them up when their own clan may not be available to help them.

Bah! I'm rambling again. To sum up: Some folks have different ideals. Those ideals tend to keep their guilds small. Sometimes small guilds need a LOT of friends to help them accomplish big goals. We provide that friendship. I'm sure some of the others have different opinions, but I feel this is the core of what we do. "

*wipes his sweatless brow*

"Phew! Ask me some questions if ya got 'em. I'm better with one liners than oratories."

[Moolberry]

"Alright then, what if we do not intend to remain small forever? Is there room for larger guilds upon the council as well?"

"Also, while I understand that every relationship is give and take, some find that the most meaningful generosity comes when it is not expected. I for one feel better helping of my own volition rather than because it is mandatory. Please detail for me the mandatory attendance and actions required to maintain membership."

The strong tauren woman takes a seat upon the stool and removes the massive, heavy axe from her back.

[Malebrignon]

"Always room. Always room. But the size of your guild doesn't matter to the Council. I mention smaller guilds because that's what we started with. As for the other query, nothing is mandatory. We really expect nothing more than comraderie, but it just works out that there's always someone to help you this way. I've been amazed how often folks can put out a simple call for aid from the Council and be flooded with more volunteers than they can shake a stick at.

Hmmm... I suppose we DO have a meeting once a week, but nobody is required to attend. It's been my experience that most folks don't care to have demands made of their time. That said, we "strongly encourage" you to come to the weekly meeting. It's a great place for fellowship and discussion as well as a chance to test your skills against your fellow Horde and usually we go kill some Alliance scum when we are done. The meetings allow us to get to know each other, and that seems to make it easier to work together should we be called upon. "

[Moolberry]

Moolberry sits silent as more Horde begin to enter. The first, who's name is Fallacy introduces himself to her, and she returns the introduction. They do not have time to talk for long, however, since many more existing members of the Council enter and begin to discuss business.

Moolberry gets out her notepad as the meeting begins. There is some talk of new guilds joining, but most of the discussion is about communication and a charter.

It does not take long for Moolberry to feel lost in the thick conversation, and she tries frantically to keep notes. There is discussion about boosting membership in smaller guilds, and keeping guilds together which brought to mind the situation of her own Clan and the way it fell from glory.

A few times she would try to politely interject with a comment or idea, but her voice must have fallen upon deaf ears because she could discern no attention given to them.

The meeting comes to a close and she watches as people file out.

How confusing this is. I wonder how a fellowship with this council will positively impact the Crimson Hand. How could it hurt to be a part of the Nether Council?

She looks up and wonders if Malebrignon is still around.

[Malebrignon]

Long after the Saturday meeting ends, Malebrignon wanders back into the Council Hall. He appears to be following a spider walking along the wall and is absently playing with his paddle-ball. He seems oblivious to the presence of others.

[Brothergrim]

Brothergrim walks in and slams his axe on the table. How many are we who all are on our roll call. We need numbers!!! WE ARE AT WAR!!!!!!!
Go ahead and do what you will with the spider. WE need to gather our forces !!!! I have a plan and the alliance will scream SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES!!!!!!!!!

ROLL CALL: GUILD NAME
GUILD LEADER

Please post so we can get our numbers correct the time has come!!
Action soon to follow.

FROSTWOLF BROTHERHOOD

BROTHERGRIM, ZUSTEAKAI

[Snowfeather]

The Grim (http://www.thegrim.org)
Maledictus
125ish members ((6 alts tops))

[Malebrignon]

"Our numbers is swellin'! I'm showin' more'n fitty Decimators on teh roster! Woo-hoo! Now, if I only knew who all these people are...."

*takes a few whacks at the paddle-ball*

"War, eh?"

*touches fresh scars upon his mangled flesh*

"I'm game! When do we start?"

[Brothergrim]

well we have a speical plan only there could be spys watching us now.So we will contact all of our allies to further this plan. This wil be big!!!!!

[Malebrignon]

(More than a month later....)

*SCRAAAAAAAAAAAAPE*

Malebrignon was distracted from his paddle-ball by what sounded like his desk being reduced to splinters. A small Tauren and a large orc appeared to be responsible.

"Walt! Uthgra! Be careful with that! It's my only real souvenir from this endeavor!" he snapped while examining the damage to the finish. It wouldn't take a craftsman long to repair, but he was unlikely to find a woodworker with enough finesse to restore it here in Orgrimmar.

"Guess what? You two just bought yourself a trip to the Undercity!"

The exhausted grunts groaned miserably as they carried the desk out the door. Two meaty thumps and the crash of wood followed shortly after, as neither of them remembered the rope ladder they had to navigate down from the Council hall. Lucky for them, Brig had resumed his musings and was oblivious to the sound.

He stared at the council table; the empty space where the Decimate tabard had hung proudly from day one; the space to its right where the Frostwolf Brotherhood's banner lay in tatters; colors of the Ash Bringer Clan, Clan BloodClaw, Hammer of the Warchief... the chair reserved for Lord Soraxis.

Never one to leave without a word, he tacked a missive to his former position at the Council table:

"I am withdrawing Decimate's support from this council. I have been unhappy with its direction for some time. My own ideals do not agree with those of Manus, Zusteakai, and several others. I feel no need to shed blood on the issue, but I must part ways. Those of you who know my mind and agree with my methods, please contact me soon."

With that, Brig prepared a levitation, stepped out the door, and locked the Council Hall for the first time since its door opened. He knew the other leaders had keys, though he was certain he could return in a month and find the chamber undisturbed.