Final view [open RP] Story line for machinima

[Bloodstain]

Im sure you guys know how this works! If you want to contact me about maybe a story you've written ill be happy to read it for consideration.

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Final View

The wind blew strong as a shadow appeared in the mist off Menethil Harbor. The sky was low and vision was poor. The rain whispered past the port masters face leaving trickles of purity along his beard. A quaint warms filled his Dwarven belly, he constantly tips up his inlying immunity to the shattering colds which blew ashore. He places his hipfask into his back pocket and alines his admirals hat, while walking away from the Inn and towards the waters edge. The wooden dock creeks as he walks towards the end of the pier. He squints, curious the what is being withdrawn from the fog. A large ship, blue... but not from paint or decoration, the vessel is covered with ice and snow. Blood drips down its side like a tree's roots.

As the ship settles next to the dock, the Port master rests his hand against the snow, his eyes turn to blood and his skin's colour withers. Hand now frozen to the ship a door opens beside him and several men step out, embrassed by shadow. One of these men appeared to be there leader, he stood tall with long white hair. A red cloth wrapped around his eyes. He wore a Black velvet outfit with plated leather gloves. He steps towards the Dwarf and rasies his hand behind his back. A long sound of friction is heard as he draws a black sword, its red rune inscripts glow as the blade is rested on the Dwarfs wrist. The blade hisses as it burns through the Port masters skin, to terrifide to respond the dwarf stands as if blessed by the Halcyon. The mans dry lips stand lifelessness a whisper is heard in the dwarfs head.

"Frost got your tongue?"

A crackled smile splays across the swordsman's face...

[Bloodstain]

... The fires torment the sky, turning the sky to the colour of crackling blood. Non of the defensive positions lasted, they crumbled and fell in a shameful prowess. The ports keep was over run by demonic Behemoths. The claws of shadows, brought to life cleave through Menethil's guards. The flames grew and grew. A Dwarf and his Human companion saw the blaze from the mountains of Dun Morogh, the Dwarf dismounted and let fourth a powerful roar. Back at Menethil one of the shadowed men, who had remained silent for the conflict drew picked up the sword of a fallen victim beside him. Effortlessly he flings the sword into the mountains. The blade sang it's lullaby as it carved through the wind at such speeds. Out of view but not out of mind the shadowed man turns and walks back towards the ship.

The force of the blade rose the dwarf from his knees and he staggared back several steps. The sword housed in his neck. Eyes colourless and with out saying a word. He died in the arms of his Human friend, the Knight Dalen.
(somebody else going to continue it now?:P)