The Assassinorum
For the soon-to-be-implemented "Assassinorum". This is a journal style background on them. I'll just point out that this has nothing to do with Azeroth or Outland. Sol Invictus is wherever there is sentience, remember? :P ------------------------------------ The Assassinorum The night before last I retired to my usual, lengthy slumber to commune with our Lord. This was perhaps the most striking and forward vision he sent me and I knew immediately that His will must be carried out immediately. There was a barren desert. Howling, biting winds threw sand up into the air that eviscerated anything it touched. Such was it’s ferocity. The sky was black, save for the apparition of our Lord, the Unconquered Sun high in the sky. It’s fierce, fiery gaze bore down on this harsh land and all was flattened into submission. But to my great surprise, in the distance I spied a troupe of warriors, trudging along. In moments I appeared before them and saw them closer. They were clad in black. They did not bear heavy plate armour, but blackened , warped leather. Their entire bodies were entirely covered. Their faces were wrapped in dark cowls and so I could not identify any of them. But my eye saw the finer details. The way they carried themselves, the honed, lean frames, the well oiled, sharpened weapons at their sides. These were assassins. I followed them for hours and hours. Eventually we came to a village, protected by great sheets of cloth. Futile attempts to shield it from the inevitability of the Unconquered Sun. A strange people inhabited the village. They were unlike any creature I have seen on Azeroth nor Draenor. They were small and swarthy, not unlike a Dwarf. But their skin was scaly and moist. Edgy, yellow, reptilian eyes with slit pupils were visible beneath their hoods. They darted to and fro, as if expecting something. My gaze returned to the band of assassins, but to my amazement they were gone. But by Sol Invictus’ will, he showed me what was truly there. I caught sight of them. Some were walking directly into the village, mingling with the crowds of natives. But the way they did it was extraordinary. The way they acted so natural, and so calm. It seemed as though the natives were under some enchantment, for they never even reacted to the assassins’ presence. When they could, they walked in shadow and when they did, they were almost invisible. Indeed, to me they would have been, were it not for Sol Invictus keeping me focused. The other assassins were scaling the walls of the large huts and prowling along the rooftops expertly. It became apparent that they were heading to the largest hut in the centre of the village. Suddenly, my vision was exchanged. I was in the main hut, and I saw through the eyes of one of the natives. My guess was that he was their village elder, or something to that effect. It was relatively luxurious and wealthy. In fact, it was not far off from the homes of the indulgent Sin’dorei nobles of Silvermoon. The room was circular and at eight points there were windows, and at each window was stationed a guard, clad in intimidating armour and cruel weapons. Then it happened. One by one, each guard fell dead. I felt all the emotions of the pathetic creature, and for the first time in years fear gripped my heart. It was nauseating. I tried to force this vermin’s limbs into action, but it’s body was fat and sluggish. I stood, thinking myself Junka, the Avatar of Sol Invictus. But when I looked down, I saw not my own, scarred arms, but scaly, pallid and shaky hands still gripping a bottle of some rich wine. Before I knew it, a blade slid through my back and out the other side. As I saw the blackness of the blade jutting through my stomach, my instinct was to growl with rage and swing my axe into the spine of the attacker. But in this body, I never even had a chance. I felt smaller blade being drawn across my throat, and before I knew it I was on the floor. My lifeblood flowing freely from my jugular. My vision blurred and I saw eight figures stand above me. I made out the tabard of Invicto Incarnate upon their chests. One knelt down close and whispered into my ear “The Vanii of Sol Invictus offer your soul willingly…”. And it was then I died. My vision was returned to my normal self and I gazed upon the village once more. The place was thrown into sheer terror. A severed head was thrown from the window of the largest hut and onto the street. Already the Vanii were darting along the rooftops and streaking along the sand. And so it was that I gazed upon their tabards and pride swelled within me. I surmised that Sol Invictus wished for His own group of Assassins to take out select targets and maximise Despair and Suffering. As His approval shone down on me, I saluted the Unconquered Sun and then I awoke.
For the soon-to-be-implemented "Assassinorum". This is a journal style background on them. I'll just point out that this has nothing to do with Azeroth or Outland. Sol Invictus is wherever there is sentience, remember? :P ------------------------------------ The Assassinorum The night before last I retired to my usual, lengthy slumber to commune with our Lord. This was perhaps the most striking and forward vision he sent me and I knew immediately that His will must be carried out immediately. There was a barren desert. Howling, biting winds threw sand up into the air that eviscerated anything it touched. Such was it’s ferocity. The sky was black, save for the apparition of our Lord, the Unconquered Sun high in the sky. It’s fierce, fiery gaze bore down on this harsh land and all was flattened into submission. But to my great surprise, in the distance I spied a troupe of warriors, trudging along. In moments I appeared before them and saw them closer. They were clad in black. They did not bear heavy plate armour, but blackened , warped leather. Their entire bodies were entirely covered. Their faces were wrapped in dark cowls and so I could not identify any of them. But my eye saw the finer details. The way they carried themselves, the honed, lean frames, the well oiled, sharpened weapons at their sides. These were assassins. I followed them for hours and hours. Eventually we came to a village, protected by great sheets of cloth. Futile attempts to shield it from the inevitability of the Unconquered Sun. A strange people inhabited the village. They were unlike any creature I have seen on Azeroth nor Draenor. They were small and swarthy, not unlike a Dwarf. But their skin was scaly and moist. Edgy, yellow, reptilian eyes with slit pupils were visible beneath their hoods. They darted to and fro, as if expecting something. My gaze returned to the band of assassins, but to my amazement they were gone. But by Sol Invictus’ will, he showed me what was truly there. I caught sight of them. Some were walking directly into the village, mingling with the crowds of natives. But the way they did it was extraordinary. The way they acted so natural, and so calm. It seemed as though the natives were under some enchantment, for they never even reacted to the assassins’ presence. When they could, they walked in shadow and when they did, they were almost invisible. Indeed, to me they would have been, were it not for Sol Invictus keeping me focused. The other assassins were scaling the walls of the large huts and prowling along the rooftops expertly. It became apparent that they were heading to the largest hut in the centre of the village. Suddenly, my vision was exchanged. I was in the main hut, and I saw through the eyes of one of the natives. My guess was that he was their village elder, or something to that effect. It was relatively luxurious and wealthy. In fact, it was not far off from the homes of the indulgent Sin’dorei nobles of Silvermoon. The room was circular and at eight points there were windows, and at each window was stationed a guard, clad in intimidating armour and cruel weapons. Then it happened. One by one, each guard fell dead. I felt all the emotions of the pathetic creature, and for the first time in years fear gripped my heart. It was nauseating. I tried to force this vermin’s limbs into action, but it’s body was fat and sluggish. I stood, thinking myself Junka, the Avatar of Sol Invictus. But when I looked down, I saw not my own, scarred arms, but scaly, pallid and shaky hands still gripping a bottle of some rich wine. Before I knew it, a blade slid through my back and out the other side. As I saw the blackness of the blade jutting through my stomach, my instinct was to growl with rage and swing my axe into the spine of the attacker. But in this body, I never even had a chance. I felt smaller blade being drawn across my throat, and before I knew it I was on the floor. My lifeblood flowing freely from my jugular. My vision blurred and I saw eight figures stand above me. I made out the tabard of Invicto Incarnate upon their chests. One knelt down close and whispered into my ear “The Vanii of Sol Invictus offer your soul willingly…”. And it was then I died. My vision was returned to my normal self and I gazed upon the village once more. The place was thrown into sheer terror. A severed head was thrown from the window of the largest hut and onto the street. Already the Vanii were darting along the rooftops and streaking along the sand. And so it was that I gazed upon their tabards and pride swelled within me. I surmised that Sol Invictus wished for His own group of Assassins to take out select targets and maximise Despair and Suffering. As His approval shone down on me, I saluted the Unconquered Sun and then I awoke.