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Kaelsy greeted Lhakadd as she entered the tall tower of Desolation Hold. "Greetings, Innkeeper, it has been many moons since we last saw eachother." she told the Orc. "BLOOD AND THUNDER!" was all he replied. Kaelsy smiled warmly "Yes....blood...and thunder". She made her way up the long staircase to the top of the tower.
In the southeast corner sat her desk. She had never moved it. Even after Garrosh sent her Clan to the mysterious lands of Pandaria, she decided to leave it be. Desolation Hold was well-defended and she secretly left many documents behind. She had been reluctant to leave Desolation Hold in the first place, knowing she would return for nights of nostalgia such as this. She sat down at her desk and ran her fingers across the top of it, breathing in the warm Barrens air. She couldn't help but smile again. So many important documents were written upon this desk and soon another would emerge. She scooted her chair closer to the desk and opened up a bottom drawer. She shuffled through the files and produced the roster folder. She opened it and began sifting through the documents.
"Gone....gone....still here.....great warrior......gone....smelly blood elf......"
Kaelsy arranged two piles on her desk. On the left lay the pile of those who had strayed to seek their own adventures...on the right, those who were still currently with the Clan. Kaelsy neatened the left pile and grasped it in her left hand. She stood up from her desk and walked to the sole window of the tower. She then cast the papers into the wind, watching as they spread about the air, each taking it's own path across the sky. "Fitting" she remarked, before walking back to her desk.
Kaelsy looked through the existing pile and was pleased with what she saw. The Clan had gained several new members since she last kept track. She began writing personnel files for these members and added them to the current stack. She then organized hem and realized something was amiss.
Greetings, Emerald Dream! We are the Blacktooth Grin Clan!
We are seeking folks, like you, to bolster our ranks!
In terms of PvP....our RBG team(s) could REALLY use healers and ranged classes with CC (spriests, locks, etc) and preferably those who know how to use them!
At the current time, we do not PvE much but I would be more then happy to find people who are willing to do so, and drag....I mean...bring some of us along :D
We are a light RP guild but little do my friends know, I will be launching us back into the RP scene more heavily with RP events, WPvP and etc. I'm ALWAYS excited to get RPers in the guild. We do not expect you to RP in guild chat but if you want to, I'll bring it! I REALLY enjoy witty exchanges and the simple things in WoW.
What we seek most is community. Remember the days of WoW when your entire guild spent the day/evening together in vent because everyone was so excited to play this game? That's us! We are, in the majority, mature people who have been playing for a very long time. We always spend time together in vent, running BGs and just enjoying life and the game.
Seriously. Come check us out.
Add me to friends...mail me in-game....whisper me.....tickle me...I mean, really, I'm cool with anything!
The Orc looked down at the letter he grasped in his and hand and took in a deep breathe, slowly looking up at the cave in front of him. The horrid smell of death and stale air blew from the cave as he drew near, and gently waved the ripped banner, which had been driven through a soldier head to groin. Two flags hung from the banner one of black with gold trim with two swords clashing one breaking upon the other, the sigil of the once proud House Shattersword of the Arathi Highlands, the other the flag of the Blacktooth Grin Clan. The faded colors of the soldier bleached by the sun appeared once to be of bright red and white and what he thought was a crow was emblazed upon his chest and a giant two sided battle axe still in the soldiers grasp, clenched as tightly in death as it was once in life.
Reaching the entrance of the cave, the Orc took one more deep breathe and stepped in. As he walked down the long length of tunnel the dim torches flickered in the stale breeze. Whispers of pain and fear poured into the mind of the Orc and he begged for freedom he could not give them, his skin felt as if he had been plunged in freezing lake. Looking down at his clothing it began to darken, quickly grasping his chest to find where he was bleeding, and sighed with relief when he realized it was not blood. Gathering himself together he continued on for a few more feet and fell to his knees and screamed in pain. His hands where felt as if they had been lit on fire, as he brought them to his face his skin and tissue began melting away from his bones as if he was made of nothing more then water. Unable to move the Orc screamed and a gust of air blew through the cave. The torches flickered and then went out and he was doused in darkness, unending pain pierced through his body as his flesh and muscle melted away.
The pain stopped after what seemed like hours and soft footsteps could be heard padding down the tunnel coming closer and closer. Whomever it was stopped inches from the Orc, his voice frozen in his throat from fear was unable to cry out. Tears began to run down the Orcs face and cold boney fingers ran across his face, the stench of death filled his nose. The hiss of struggled breathing was all he could hear and then a soft breath brushed his ear. "Do not cry Orc.... It only lessens your suffering." A harsh laugh rang through the tunnel. "And your suffering will be... What is this?" Green orbs lit up the tunnel and the Orc could see. Before him stood a medium sized undead with flowing black robes bearing the sigil of House Shattersword on his chest. The Undead held the letter in hands and slowly unrolled it.
The Orc looked up at the figure gaining his strength he let out what words he could. "Perenador... the letter is... for the... warlock Perenador." Slowly rolling the letter back up, the undead looked down at the Orc, and knelt down and placed his hand under his chin lifting his head. "Perenador?" The undead grabbed the Orc around the throat. "I do not go by that name anymore. Perenador, is nothing more then a forgotten story. Teirvel, is what they will call me now, and just as the Horde knows the name Perenador, the Alliance will fear the name Teirvel." Throwing the Orc to the ground Teirvel stood up and brushed off his robes. "My most sincere apologizes for not adhering to pleasantries, but, I have been summoned and my curiosities have been aroused." Before turning away Teirvel laid a peach on the ground in front of the Orc and bowed before turning away and dousing the green orbs leaving the Orc in darkness.
As the Orc listened to the footsteps disappear, he could he Teirvel beckon a name. "Gibrik!"
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