Writing RP for an event allows one to define, or redefine, the tone of the NPCs involved in the setting. While in the Wrathgate Cut Scene, we see Highlord Bolvar stride through his troop formations, we know that this did not happen over night. These frontline troops are only the vanguard. The planning and set up took to attack Arthas must have taken months. This plan would have included shipping supplies, caravan and guard duty as well as standard patrols.
In his first piece for Wrathgate, Ulthanon examines not only the logistics of the attack, but also redefines the tone that we see during the cut scene. He does this by bringing a common Wildfire Rider Theme to the officer corp. His short piece brings about a much needed hint of levity to break the tension of the Wrathgate buildup.
Ulthanon rubbed his eyes, leaning forward in his chair as he regarded the scene in front of him. From his perch at the top of the hill, he could see parts of Fordragon Hold, the entire Horde encampment, and the Wrathgate itself. His fellows had made camp down below in the cave at the base of the hill, some… seventy feet down? Eighty? It was hard to guage distance when most everything around him was the same shade of white, but it had been a decent hike through the snowdrifts, so he figured eighty feet in straight vertical height and probably not more.
He didn’t mind this sort of watch duty. If anything was out of place, one of the other hundred or two scounts and sharp-eyes would call it to their fellows as well. Between the army proper and the mercinary groups that had made their way to the roof of the world, there wasn’t an inch of snow, sea or sky that wasn’t being watched by at least two men, all the way out to the horizon.
This being the case, Ulthanon Kaidos had decided to take up a slightly more leisurely watch position than his typical lying prone or bunched up in a tree. The army camp had been rife with Stormwind officers who were far too soft for such an encampment- and with them had come comforts from home. Elwynn River-Chairs, made of smooth maple that folded for easy moving and extended out into a slight natural reclining position, complete with a hole in the armrest for a drink, perfect for passing time fishing. Thick, luxurious goose-down blankets from Alterac, with holes for the head and arms, so one’s body could be kept warm as if in bed while allowing freedom of movement. And smaller things, too- sheeps’ wool earmuffs. All of these things had somehow found their way onto official army transport ships, through a manipulation of the books or some under-the-table coin or some other minor shenaniganery.
Shenaniganery? Shenanigans… issitude?
He cleared his head and refocused on the airspace just to the west of the Gate, taking a sip from the drink in his armrest.
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