Emerald Dream

Mar 18, 2016 [RP] Simple Steps (updated 7/20) (( EDIT: I've updated this a few times throughout the thread, and other people have also posted bits! Make sure you read through the whole thing; this letter is only the intro! So I'm going to be gone for most of the month due to IRL things, so here's the first part of a nice, long plotline and story for Umcha. I'll be updating this thread with new parts as regularly as possible (though for the first week I won't even have phone service, let alone internet). I've asked the people whose characters are involved to link any stories that relate to this in this thread so that I can find them easier when I DO have internet, so it should be pretty easy for anyone else to find things to do with it as well! As always, crit is appreciated and welcomed throughout the month. I can't wait to get this ball rolling! I hope you guys like this as much as I do! )) A letter slipped under the door to the room Juzmik had rented for himself, cheap parchment folded into a tiny square. On the front was simply "For Taz"; Umcha hadn't known how to get the letter to the other troll without venturing out into the jungle and having to face him himself, and that rather defeated the point of a letter in the first place. He'd paid more than he should to get someone to write the note. Two whole gold, cautiously pulled out of his tiny purse of coins and handed over to a goblin that smelled of rum and cigars. Two gold of his ten gold savings, already spent. ... Umcha flexed his toes against the wooden planks of the dock, looking up at the sky. His purse of coins was tied to his belt, his Gor'Watha tabard pulled off and tucked into the satchel he wore on his pack. He'd rode a zeppelin only a few days ago on his way in to Stranglethorn. Then, he was surrounded by friends, even if Juzmik had spent the whole time retching. Now. he stood amongst various travelers. Mostly goblins, but there were elves and orcs, as well. There was even a tall tauren, the only person there taller than Umcha. He crouched down as low as he could, but he still towered above everyone else. A scratch to his cheek and a rub to the back of his neck, and he tried not to worry about stepping on someone. It cost him another two gold to board, but Umcha handed the coin over with only the tiniest of groans. He ought to have enough to get him as far as Bloodvenom Post in Felwood-- nasty place that it was, it was the closest any wyvern would take him to home. From there, he could make his way into elf-controlled lands. He scratched his cheek again. If he stuck near the mountains, he'd always know he was going in the right direction. And he'd avoid most of the elves, as well. When the wind blew the wrong way it carried the scent of Felwood's taint; few Kaldorei enjoyed staying on that side of Darkshore because of it. He'd come close to at least one of the ruins, maybe two, but the rumours of elf ghosts were just that. It'd be easy. Stick to the mountains, avoid everything, and find the cave. It'd been years since elves had crushed his tribe; they couldn't still be watching the cave. Go through the cave, go home, find the necklace. Simple steps. He'd be back in Booty Bay well before Taz got worried, no harm done.Umcha91 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 [RP] Faust (( A continuation of the Eldie and Cav plot! Check out the previous chapters here: http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/20418543496#1 and http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/20419273591 . Thanks for reading and, as always, feel free to point out anything you liked, disliked, or just think is interesting! )) Eldie and Cav’s return to Dalaran is quiet, unannounced. Rented wyverns bear them back to the city from K3, excuses dripping from Cav’s lips about Eldie’s bloodied state. The congealed blood seeping out of her wound makes the lies ring true, lets the blank look in her eyes go unquestioned by the goblins that surround them. There are a couple of times, when the small creatures’ backs are turned, that bony claws reach out, wanting to rip and tear and explore the underside of that vivid green skin, but each time Cav takes her hands in his, instead. Cold fingers lace around her own, gentle. She blinks at the contact, lashes glancing against cheekbones as it brings her a step back from the emptiness behind her eyes, and for each squeeze of her hand she rewards the sniper with a smile. A smile with bloody teeth and bloody lips, stretched both too far and not far enough, but a smile nonetheless. When they step off their shared wyvern-- the dazed look in Eldie’s eyes back in K3 having pulled at the corners of Cav’s mouth in worry, where metal meets rotting lip-- onto the brick of Dalaran’s landing, some of the haze has left Eldie’s mind. She clings to Cav’s hand, fingers tightly entwined, keeping as close as she can without tripping him up. Wide eyes watch their surroundings, settle on each heartbeat with a hungry gaze, but Cav pulls her along before teeth can gnash at living creatures. Most of the Warband spends their time in the sewers, and it’s there they’ll be able to find Icario and Theenie once again, there where he find out what went wrong, why Eldie is still… He looks back at the crusader, squeezing her hand to catch her attention. Yellow eyes turn on him for only a moment before taking in the sights of Dalaran once more, awed eyes wide at buildings she’s seen constantly over the last month, tracing spires and towers with her gaze. Their entrance to the sewers below is blocked by a tall woman, the rot and glow at the edges of her eyes and the pallor of her skin the only true hint to her undead state. Fine silks dangle from her emaciated frame in bright purples and sunset oranges, a testament to old alliances. Along the skirt, golden thread embroiders the arcane eye over and over again, shimmering as she clasps her hands together. Her fingers are long, the bones hidden beneath gold-coated iron claws she wears like rings. Her kinky, curly hair is immaculate, woven into fine braids that are pulled into an updo. She smiles when Cav pauses, the yellow glow of her eyes the only thing that hardens her expression. “You must be Cavistius, right? And that means this sweet dear behind you must be Eldie!” The crusader seems to come to attention at the sound of her name and her hand slips free of Cav’s, a smile bringing her face back to some semblance of life. “I heard about the two of you from a pair of mages I made the acquaintance of. Theenie and Icario, I believe? They informed me that poor Miss Eldie was struggling with some, ah… Unwanted rot.” “They said she’d be better,” Cav’s quiet voice slips out. “Oh? I take it the dear isn’t, though. With how she’s, well, hm. Well, I suppose it’s quite obvious to both of us that she’s not well. It’s good I asked my friend to tell me if he saw you return to the city, then; I was worried their magics wouldn’t be strong enough. Why don’t you just come with me?” She turns, silks shimming in the arcane streetlights as cobblestone clicks under her heeled boots. “It’s not far, dear.” Cav only nods, taking Eldie’s hand into his own once more.Eldie20 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 [RP] Sincerely, Ashenvale ((Hello, we found Rasek's fat baby. B) )) They were leaving in a week. Visitors to Revantusk scrambled to pack their things and head out, word of heightened Alliance activity driving them all to the heart of Lordaeron, like rats to higher ground. The village was an upended flurry of activity when Tiombi came to visit the boy’s grandmother. It was warm, spring spilling over the cliffs to the shore of the Hinterlands. The open hut Rasek’s family lived in was simple, small, decorated on all sides with shrines and beads in every color. Tiombi was let in with a weary smile, her host gracious but tired as always. Rasek’s father, seated facing a shrine with his cane propped up against a driftwood chair, spared her a passing glance. Tiombi was a shadow, silhouetted by the sun and dressed in feathers, her gracious curves and squared shoulders a small relief from the aging curve of his wife’s shoulders and the lines around her eyes. “What do you want?” His voice was low and thick and mixed with bitter wine. Tiombi answered in her own rich Amani tongue. “It’s about Riska.” “What about him?” The old man turned to look at her proper, leaning heavily on the arm of his chair. “My boy never writes us anything about him. He’s our grandson, we raised him for months!” Rasek’s mother scurried to her husband’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder, looking more worn than ever. She kept her eyes downcast, mouth shut, as the old man beneath her hand shuddered and sank back into his seat. “I don’t know him very well—“ “He’s three. He doesn’t have a personality.” “—and I’d like to know more about his behavior. He’s been quiet lately, vacant eyes, like he’s watching something.” Tiombi said. The old man was never friendly, especially not when it came to his son. My boy. He said it with such venom, like he was speaking to a wild dog instead of the chief of a warband, a part of the Orcish Horde, father to a fat little troll who’d spent most of his toddler years in that very hut. There had been quite a few misplaced things with the newfound Riska, though Tiombi didn’t see the point in worrying them with all the details. Sitting alone in a satyr’s tent in the middle of Ashenvale. He made no noise and barely seemed to notice her, cat’s paws slipping past the curtain, fur caked with blood and sweat. He clung to Juzmik’s jerkin like it was no more important than a toy, and even the durty air of Orgrimmar that clogged his nose and eyes seemed to make no difference. The others noticed, of course, but were happy enough to have him back and set it aside as something to worry about later. “Gonna stick around this time?” Juzmik had asked her, a sly grin wrapped around his tusks. But she was gone from the warband again by morning, heading back to the eastern coast of the eastern kingdoms with questions. “He was vibrant.” Rasek’s mother said, eyes still locked on the floor. “A talkative pup. He even picked up some of papa’s curses.” Her husband tensed beneath her hand and said nothing. “Is there something wrong with him? Is he sick?” Her eyes flicked to Tiombi, however briefly, one woman’s grief shared with another. “Maybe a fever.” Tiombi lied, hands curled into balls at her side. Rasek’s mother wasn’t quick and she wouldn’t press, perhaps not even considering the healer before them could spot and treat a child’s fever in a day. Which was good, really. Perhaps it was only trauma that sewed the boy’s mouth closed, but the dead weight in his eyes still set her on edge. She gave the old woman a warm smile. “Thank you, for the information. I should be getting back.” “You’ll stop and see that man of yours, won’t you?” Tiombi stopped, half turned to the door. “He talks to himself mostly. He doesn’t go out as much anymore. The elders think we’re going to have to put him down soon.” Put him down. Like a sick animal, and not a troll at all. She smiled again, forced and short, dreams of Ezzran lingering at the edge of her mind. “Maybe later.” She said, and cursed the fear in her own voice. “I have to a lot do.”Tiombi10 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 [RP] Two Dogs with a Gun Between Them ((Written in conjunction with this lovely Eldie story: http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/19496729490)) They had come up to Light’s Hope just a few days earlier, Cav unfazed at the back of the line, pack slung over and a black dog at his side. It set the living in a state of unease, that much was obvious. Between forced, nervous laughter and shifting bodies, shifting eyes, they were as plain as bare bread. Scared like wild animals. Cav himself was anxious for other reasons, wholly unknown to the warband and even his closest friends. His only witness was the dog and the watchful eyes of the Plaguelands themselves, which fed on misery and blood in the soil more than he ever had at the height of the scourge. His rifle, packed away in a black case, stayed by his side. They had raised more than a few alarms by stopping at the chapel. “What sickness?” They asked Rasek, who handed out more gold than he could count to keep mouths shut and heads nodding. “What’s that Scarlet doing with you?” More gold, a bit of grumbling. Eldie lost her temper more than once, screaming at white and silver crusaders, who screamed back. Cav watched in silence. He might have stepped in, if they were anywhere else. He might have distracted her, led her away from whatever tormented her without; kept her busy away from paladins who judged her too harshly, he felt, for clinging to the remnants of her former life. But this was his hunting ground, and the less they remembered his face and the case at his side the better. Cav left with the black dog at his side, slipping out a hole in the iron fence to avoid the watchmen. Eldie was nowhere to be found, fortunately. No questions asked. He’d been canvasing the area for years at this point. He knew it when it was alive and when it was dead, just as it knew him, and even his bent gait was faster through the hills than any caravan. His best bet was to head north, past the noxious glade and the Eastwall Tower, towards the Plaguewood and the burning city of Stratholme. Too many crusaders stood against the remnants of the Scarlet Crusade to the south, remnants he hoped Eldie would never find, and the death knights in Acherus could see down the glade clear as glass. Not that they’d mind a murder here and there, he figured, but best be safe. The Plaguewood still teemed with scourge magic, shadowed by massive fungi that exhaled spores and blight in time with one another and the decaying remains of its citizens long ago. They crept along the decrepit ground, another stitch in the vast blanket of death that stretched out before the city. Crusaders were very few, and very brave. They were trained to look everywhere and miss nothing, to flee quickly and never wander out too far. But they were few. The black dog urged him to wait awhile, to rest their bones before delving into the deep ruin, and they stopped on the crest of a hill just south of the Eastwall Tower. He set up his hide spot as usual, just in case. Covered in brush and yellow grass, he lay on his belly with the dog at his side and the gun before them both. It was a bit different than it used to be. The pestilent scar had all but filled with water, tepid and undrinkable, but water just the same. Even the river that ran beneath Eastwall was just a few years in the making, but it reminded him of how things used to be, before it all dried up and Lordaeron itself turned on her people. His wife in her nightgown, bare feet on the dirt floor. Two rabbits hanging over the fireplace, which died if he left her to watch it. Her wedding ring on the nightstand. He kissed her forehead before heading out, gun in hand, the black dog at her side. She smiled, but kept her gaze on the floor and said nothing. She sat on the edge of their overstuffed bed, looking at nothing, looking through everything, a leather-bound journal in her lap. The last page marked with a red ribbon. Fingertips stained with ink. They gathered in the inn for safety; a little hamlet alone against the scourge, and to his dismay she’d left her ring behind. Next to her journal on the nightstand. He trusted her, knew her, loved her, but as he reached for the gold band he found himself in possession of her journal, with the red ribbon in his hand. When I think I’m safe in bed the black dog comes to me instead and says to me ‘Have you forgotten? That your heart is all but rotten.’ Guttural screams brought him back to the hill and the Eastwall Tower. His head jerked up, the dog beside him with its ears at attention. The road below them was already awash with blood, caught in a flurry of carnage he hadn’t expected, not this close.Cavistius21 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 [RP] Whiteout (( We're doing a Really Big Thing! Check out Ras' half of the story, from Cav's perspective, here: http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/20419273591 . I hope you guys enjoy this, because it's going to be an ongoing thing! )) Eldie peers over the edge of the snowbank she’s made her hiding spot, watching carefully for any glint of silver in the storm. Snow and wind rage around her, blinding her, and even through her much diminished sense of cold she’s grateful for the wolf-coat cloak Cav had pressed into her hands as they left Dalaran. For cover, he’d said, so the blood of your armour isn’t seen by the foxes. Not in as many words, of course, but the meaning had been there just the same. She pulls the cloak tighter, trying to pick out silver and white armour in the haze of the blizzard. Nothing. No sign of any silver foxes. No sign of anything but blurry white, blanketing the landscape and burying it for an eternity. No sign of Cav, either. Not that she expects one; he hides much better than she does, and has sequestered himself far out of sight. Fingers reach for her axes, drawing them close and clutching them to her chest as a raging warmth grows inside her. It doesn’t usually take this long. Crusaders have always been proud, and always done their patrols on time. Through Scourge and storm, through blizzard and blood. And yet, they’re late. Eldie taps clawed fingers against the hilt of one of her axes, only stubbornness keeping her from resorting to pacing. They’ll come. They have to come. They always come. Impatience brings her to the brink of reaching for her comm, just so she can hear Cav’s voice, but as she brings the stone to her lips she sees a flicker of colour in the white noise of the landscape. Ginger-red, a mop of unruly hair flying in the wind as its owner removes their helmet-- only for a second, of course, but even a second is long enough to spot the flash of orange. Eldie shifts a little, eyes focused on where the crusader had been. Cav saw it too, she’s sure of that. It’s time. She throws herself over the edge of the snowbank, sliding down through the snow as quickly as she can. The blizzard rages on around her, and her tracks disappear almost as quickly as she makes them. She sprints as best she can through the snow; there’s more than she thought, and her sprint quickly becomes more of a wade. No matter, though. A group of crusaders will move even more slowly than she does through the storm. The difference between silver armour and bright snow is difficult to discern, and by the time she can make the first of the crusaders out again he’s nearly on top of her. They stare at each other for a second-- she hasn’t pulled her axes from her back, and his sword is in its sheathe at his side. She hesitates a moment less, undead reflexes quicker than living, and punches his helmet with as much force as she can muster. The steel wavers only slightly under her fist, and the dent she creates isn’t very big, but the crusader drops anyway. A shrill scream breaks the silence of the abandoned glacier, blood dripping to the snow from his broken nose. His companion-- only one? the Argent Crusade has gotten lax-- rushes forward, shield pushing against their attacker. Poplar, reinforced with thick leather, slams into Eldie’s plate, sending her skidding back through the snow. But the thick layer of snow unbalances her, pushing against the back of her knees and sending her sprawling to the ground, head slamming against white that is far more solid than it initially appears. She lays there, still, until the crusader with the dented helmet stands above her. He pulls the useless metal off, tossing it down beside her head, and unsheathes his sword. The tip rests against the heart of flame on her breast. Eldie watches the stranger blankly, waiting. The shot she expects doesn’t come, the fight hidden from her companion by the swirling storm. Instead, feet kick upwards, instinct moving her when backup fails. Plated boots slam against a protective cup, the crusader’s sword piercing her breastplate with the movement. She ignores the pinch of pain, the black ooze of long-congealed blood that seeps from the wound as the crusader pulls his sword back quickly in alarm. It stains her white tabard, slowly dripping down the fabric as she pushes herself back up to her feet.Eldie17 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 [RP] Every Story is, in the End, About Blood (( Threw this together because of some RP after bar night. Please enjoy! )) Finding a quiet, secluded place in Orgimmar was unsurprisingly difficult, rather like searching for a clean, bug-free area in the same city. While there were some, scattered few and far between, they were quickly claimed by the rowdy and the insects, disappearing into the dusty fabric of the city before one even realized they had existed at all. The city breathed a sigh of relief each time one of these places was conquered; Orgrimmar would not be Orgrimmar if you could hear yourself think, after all. The merchants had wares to hawk. Umcha, however, had spent far too many years between the cliffs that made up the walls of the city to be tricked by what the place wanted him to believe. Truth has a nasty way of coming out, and the truth was that there were numerous hidey holes deposited throughout the bedrock. Ragamuffins and pickpockets filled them to the brim, sometimes spilling out into the street before slipping back into their cool, secluded homes. No one ever seemed to notice but, then again, people seemed awfully good at not noticing the by-products of far too many wars. For nearly four years, Umcha had slept cramped in a hole in the wall with numerous other children. The names changed, their ages changed, the numbers changed, but the hole was never empty, and never large enough for all of them. But it was quiet. The shallow cave sucked all sound in, where it faded into the walls before it ever had a chance to be heard. It wasn’t the sort of cave you talked in. Or breathed in, really. You slept there, and you scrambled out as quickly as you could each morning, else the cave might decide to swallow you up, too. Now, the cave was only sparsely inhabited. Umcha slipped a small coin purse off his belt and, after some small discussion with the three children who had been curled up, pretending to sleep, he had the cave to himself for three hours, and they had money for food for the next month. He chewed his lip, thinking. He didn’t need a lot of space, no, but with only one arm some of the markings might be difficult. He sifted through the satchel resting against his hip, ignoring the protesting clangs of glass jars meeting for the first time. It wasn’t the right blood, not really—pig and goat, carefully bribed from the butcher—but it would do. Elf would be better. Troll blood would be best. But that would take time, and answers, and he didn’t have time for either. He closed his eyes, letting the memory of the dream wash over him before he started. Shadows lined his vision, stretching far out to the horizon, where the sun burned a sickly yellow. It hung lowly in the sky, but brought no warmth, and the fog that hid the ground didn’t seem as though the sun would chase it away any time soon. Not that it mattered, here. The hazy tint to everything, less real than a dream, told him enough. The shadows crowded around, surging forward in time to a tempo he couldn’t quite make out. There were many shapes, many voices, and he knew them all. Or he would, one day. The two at the front did not obey the tide, did not add to the din. The more he concentrated on them, the quieter the rest became. They became the background they truly were, unimportant in the face of those he had sworn himself to, years ago, the two he gave himself to above all others. Bethekk and Hir’eek stared at him, contempt coming in waves. While they did not grow, they still obscured his vision until they were all he could see, the two loa permeating every aspect of his being. Ah.Umcha19 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 [RP] Here lies Galevin Nelson The Undead set down his blades on the grassy knoll with but a moment of hesitation in his movement, a slight hiccup in the natural martial flow of motion. This was one of the few times he allowed himself to be completely defenseless. No doubt his many enemies would be ecstatic to find him in such a state, but he felt it'd disturb the memories of the area to bring such tools of butchery; like wading through a pond to kick up dirt. He crested the hill, and at the top, like a lone soldier standing vigil, was a grave marker. It was unremarkable in every sense, made of simple stone. In a way, the simplicity added to significance. On the side that watched the sun rise, “Here lies Galevin Nelson” was carved with obvious haste, as if the mason couldn't be bothered to add more to the epitaph. Yet the words burned in his mind's eye with all the fury of Deathwing's rage. He reached out a single finger, tracing the words, feeling each subtle curve, the contrast of chisel and stone. Every year he came here, on the anniversary of his death, to relive the memories, to reaffirm his resolve. Every year Galevin stood at his grave, a prisoner to memories that had set him free. He smiled as he remembered a few bits and pieces of his old life. The look his partner would flash him right before they pulled down their masks, the heists, the flights of panic as the Stormwind guard pursued them along the canals, the narrow escapes. It had been a simple life of debauchery for the two of them. Always hitting and running. But they had both discovered that the faster you ran, the faster you arrived to the end of the road. The crown had caught up to them eventually, and they were given a command in the form of an option: Work for us or lose your head. The choice had been rather simple for the pair. The crown took their talents and directed them to clean the city, to do the less savory of tasks. It was there that Galevin had learned the baleful truth of the world. The subtle difference between justice and butchery was that one was done in the light, while the other slunk about the shadows. And he was good at it. He killed, and stole, and butchered until his hands were stained crimson, and the entire time he had believed in what he had done. The higher ups became more nervous with each successful mission, and it was here, upon a nondescript hill within Tirisfal, that the dagger had slipped into his back, delivered by the one person he trusted most in the world. As his fingertips lingered on the last part of his epitaph, his mind was far away. He turned as his lungs rapidly filled with blood, his mouth trying to form the question that was on his lips. His partner's eyes were clouded, as if he was trying to hold back tears, but the hand with the bloody knife never wavered. “I'm sorry, Galevin, but you've become too dangerous.” He said, dropping the knife, “They made me an offer that I couldn't refuse. They said I could be free...and all I had to do was kill my best friend. I'm so sorry.” He remembered the way the grass felt on his face, the musky smell of earth as his friend walked away, as the last vestiges of life left his body. His dying thought had been the slightest whisper of “why?”. It had not been a pretty way to go. So it seemed fate had a macabre sense of humor as he woke up within the Sepulcher, giving him the chance to payback old “debts”. But his partner had vanished, and now he was stuck here, looking at his old grave. He punched the headstone hard, the crack of dead flesh and bone ringing out over the silent countryside. Galevin spent another long moment looking at his grave before standing, sighing. He didn't look back as he went back down. It was time to become the butcher for another long year.Galevin4 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 [RP] Brah Brah OI OI OI ((My other Death Knight Ezzran was brought back from the dead a while back but is suffering some side effects due to my OOC absence. Wrote this to do a bit of explaining and stuff while I get him back up to snuff :) )) The ideal life is something all trolls seek out. Grow up strong in whatever suits you. Whatever empowers you. Become great at it. Become the best. Find someone to wed and have children, to save your dying race. Live life to the fullest, because it will be short and that is a Loa-given guarantee. Growing up you never try to be something you are not, because while troll life can be simpler than others, it can also be much harsher. The weak are downtrodden and most likely die. Whether through trials of strength, cunning or even age; a drunken brawl or an ambush from a rival tribe (and not to mention a war that has consumed the entire planet) eventually a troll will be put to the test. And no single troll can pass all of those tests, no matter how strong, quick, or smart they are. Eventually even the greatest fall by the sword, the spell, or the Loa come to collect on a troll’s short lifespan. However Ezzran had always been one for defeating the odds. He escaped the elves and their genocide of his people, but his sister was slaughtered in the process. While no one is really sure how it happened, one thing was for certain: the troll did die. But even then, his lucky streak wasn’t over. Raised from the dead by the scourge, he was transformed into a death knight. After being freed from the grip of the Lich King, he avoided being hunted down, joining up with a Warband. Thanks to whatever a druid saw in him, he escaped punishment and death multiple times despite war crimes, murders, theft and other atrocities. Even when his mind and body was finally consumed by rot. His head chopped clean from his body after the slaughter of tens of innocent blood elf villagers, and the Loa thought they finally had him, the Amani was not done yet. Ripped away from the clutches of the afterlife, he was stuffed inside a new body. It wasn’t Ezzran, but he was. However the process had not been as clean as everyone involved had hoped for. Despite his return to the realm of the living, Ezzran was a shambling shadow of his former self. Once loud, brazen and cheerful, he felt as if the new body had come with massive chains, weighing him down and fighting against his soul for control. The death knight had become little more than a wandering ghost that shuffled about Revantusk Village; a reminder of what once was but he could no longer be. Despite his massive frame and the aura of icy death, the villagers paid him no mind. Sometimes children would chance at teasing him; throw rocks or sticks at the knight. They’d all heard tales from their parents and members of the Warband about Osh’Kazil, the knight who could kill anyone or anything. Once he would have howled and chased the children, terrifying them with a cackle as he chased them to the edge of the village into the woods or to the shoreline. But now he was too distracted. The knight wasn’t so sure he wanted to live forever, now. Ezzran had won countless fights, escaped certain doom and survived the very world sundering, only to end up a cursed thrall to whatever Loa, spirit or demon had clamped their ethereal chains around his neck. The voices that called suffering and the thirst for blood and pain was ever present with a death knight. Ezzran had learned a long time ago how to deal with them-but the new spirits that shackled themselves to him were an entirely different kind of suffering. They clouded his mind, tugged his attention a million different ways, berated him and made him feel weak. It felt as if someone had tied innumerable bloated corpses to him, weighing down and dragging along behind him as he moved.Phyrexial5 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 Daredevil season 2 Now on Netflix take a lookSyntàxx1 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 What faction dominates Wpvp these days? I remember it used to go back and fourth. Remember wsb taking over citys at will?Feratex51 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 @Baelrog of Clan Battlehammer you dwarf, hit harder than a rock ! ((thanks for playing with us Elves outside of Ironforge))Cdx5 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 Illidan Novel Lore Spoilers Yeah i know it is a repost but in the case people haven't read from mmo-champion or scrolls of Lore, these are the spoilers leaked by the red shirt guy in those sites: Quoting: I'm more than half way through Illidan, and am really enjoying it so far. Its definitely the darkest WoW novel, with some scenes on par with Bleeding Sun (the Sunwalker Dezco short story). I won't spoil everything or provide a summary (I still have to do a review for Blizzplanet a little closer to release), but here are a few things: -The dreadlord homeworld is called Nathreza. It's not the world they were worshipping the void lords on mentioned in Chronicle. -Worlds that belong to races in the Legion are not destroyed, instead they remain inhabited and intact. Nathreza is full of giant cities and gleaming obsidian towers, all fel-corrupted of course. -These Legion worlds are among the "areas significantly covered in fel magic" mentioned in Chronicle. If a demon is killed on Nathreza or Argus, etc. they die permanently. -Illidan's master plan which would have succeeded if a raid group didn't kill him, was to open a portal to Argus and kill Archimonde and Kil'jaeden there. -It confirms the "only one Legion across all realities" stuff, and explains how that works, and that Archimonde is still alive after Warcraft III. -Illidan is not portrayed as a hero, the idea being, and outright said by one of the main characters (a demon hunter named Vandel) is basically "Yes, Illidan's a madman, but he's the only one capable of defeating the Burning Legion so that's we follow him." -The book isn't kind to Maiev. Even Akama says she's no better than Illidan. -While we were busy questing in Outland, Illidan and his demon hunters committed the single greatest defeat the Legion had suffered "in millenia" by destroying Nathreza using the same portal magic that blew up Draenor. It does mention that every world that doesn't end up joining the Legion is left a lifeless Mardum or Outland type husk (though not shattered, just lifeless and barren). It's only places like Nathreza and Argus that remain intact strongholds. His demon hunter army was his trump card. They tore through Nathreza's armies like a blade through tissue paper, with the added benefit of the demons' deaths being permanent. There is a line that seems kind of like its implying Illidan won't come back to life in Legion. It's mentioned that if his soul were to be severed from his body, he could never be resurrected and would be stuck as a spirit for all eternity. That sounds a lot like what Gul'dan did with his body in Black Rook Hold. Source: http://www.mmo-champion.com/threads/1964982-gt-Illidan-Book-lt-Spoilers-from-Red-Shirt-GuyPavél5 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 A Day In the Dream If you could live in the World of Warcraft on the Emerald Dream server vicariously through your toon for a day, would you? (In said scenario, you'd experience all sensations your character would experience - taste, touch, pain, etc).Luthen44 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 LEAGUE OF EEEEEEEVVVILLLLLL You ever want to see Azeroth burn? Do you think Arthas and Deathwing were before their time? ARE YOU EVIL?!?!?!? If you answered yes to all but one of these questions then you are indeed a perfect fit for THE LEAGUE OF EVIL. [b][/b]JOIN TODAY OOC New Guild, lots of evil. Message (mail IGC) me if you would be interestedArchibaid24 Mar 18, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 Stormwind Gazzette - RP Idea Heya folks, was wondering if there would be any interest in this. Name could vary/change, that isn't too important. The basic jist would be a weekly (or bi-weekly) online 'paper' uploaded here, that would cover ED's IC interactions/happenings for a that week or w/e. - Say the Blue Order moves somewhere or there is a new edict within it that is publicized, could be written about. - Stormwind Guard apprehends a criminal or passes a law or something, could be written about. - Bounties/rewards for turning people in, general IC news, covering RP-WPvP events, etc. Just spit balling ideas here. It's late and I am sleep deprived.Danterius8 Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 WTB Vanguard Legplates Pst me ingame if you got em, been looking everywhere for them and can't find them on the AH! Thanks!Vertanii2 Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 Smolderthorn Tribe Zua'jzibin stood before his fellow trolls, they had left blackrock mountain behind the raids from alliance and horde nearly crushing all life from the mountain. Zua knew they could not wage a war on the alliance with so few numbers, but maybe more smolderthorn and firetree would come to them as they gathered strength and crushed the alliance. Now brothas and sistas we going to the move till we find a new home den we going to make da alliance fear da Smolderthorn tribe again! and with that the small band of trolls wandered north looking to start a new life of raiding and demon worship First off I would like to thank the few people that have already joined our guild to help get the ball rolling, we are an all troll guild and we focus on Dark horde rp ( we still fight the second war and were going to mix voodoo in with our worship of the legion). and once we get a few more one hundreds were also going to wpvp. Expectations: We are an "evil" guild but evil doesn't mean we troll other peoples rp, if this happens please let me know so i can stop this before it gets out of hand We will have acts of cannibalism and human (any sentient creature really) sacrifice I want quality over quantity better rp means we may get invited to interact with more guilds Being an evil guild I expect a certain level of maturity from our guild We will accept new and veteran rps If you don't fit in with us no worries if we have built up the contacts we'll try and point you toward a guild more suited to your roleplay style.Zuajzibin18 Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 the new lore spoilers i guess idk w/e What do you folks think about it i'm okay with elune being a titan and sargeras killing all of them i'm kind of mad that y'shaarj wasn't secretly an okay alright guy before he got killed i'm mad that the planet is a titan egg thoughTreng59 Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 [RP] To Clan Battlehammer. In the Mountains of Dun Morugh, along the side of the road leading to Iron Forge. A cold lifeless Dwarf was found. It was dwarvish tradesman who had relished selling ale, and bread to travelers. He had been reported missing for days ago. It was a ghastly sight to find him heinous condition. The dwarf’s lifeless eyes were rolled back. Clearly the dwarf’s last moments were spent in agonizing pain. There was an Elven Ranger dagger which was impaled an envelope against the dwarf’s maimed corpse. The letter inside the envelope reads. “Dear Clan Battlehammer A certain Dwarf Warrior was arrogant enough to defend Ironforge Against me. Long have I faced your order on the field of battle. Clan Battlehammer is one of the few Alliance groups I have come to respect, and admire it’s members and their honor, and prowess. I have faced many of its members, Orooth, Rhusty, King Bruenor. Yet despite the honorable reputation of your order. This certain warrior and defender has yet to learn his place, which is BENEATH THE HORDE AND THE SIN’DOREI! How dare this Dwarf show such disrespect before me! May I remind you the consequences of defying me! There was a nice dwarf tradesman who has suffer the consequences for this. He has suffered greatly. You and your followers will suffer a death far worse than a thousand Alliance peasants, arrogant enough to defy me! My best regards” Stamped with the Phoenix Insignia ((this was referring to Alemageddon Good fight!))Ravenhul15 Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 <On Cooldown> Selling Mythic Blackhand Mount <On Cooldown> will be selling the Mythic Blackhand mount next week these run will be done at 8 Server with the invite going out at 7:45 server, these runs will happen on Tue Wed or Monday of this next raid lockout. The cost for this mount will be 400k or best offer. If interested please whisper Jatshift in game or add my battletag Jatul#1617Jatshift9 Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 Anything Can Happen in Red Quill (Recruiting) Look at your guild, Now look at Red Quill, Back to your guild, Back to Red Quill. Sadly, you're not in Red Quill. But if you left your lady scented guild and switched to Red Quill you could be! Look down, Back up. Where are you? You're in the new Legion raiding content before anyone else. What's in your hand? Back at Red Quill. We have it. It's an oyster with 2 epics for that set you want! Look again! the items are now LEGENDARY! Anything is possible when your a member of Red Quill! I'm on a horse! Red Quill is currently open recruiting for our core raid team. If you are interested in raiding Fridays at 8pm server time and Sundays at 8pm server time with a group of guys who keep things fun then send us a message! Some of you may be thinking, "Why on earth are these guys recruiting for raiding now that the expansion is pretty much over and done with?". Well the answer is simple, Legion. That's right, we're trying to get a group together that will stay together and eventually raid in Legion. We want to ensure that we work well together as a team before 7.0 hits. Red Quill is also a fun place to hang out even if you're not looking to raid. Most of us are pretty active throughout the week and are willing to run pretty much anything! Questions? Want to apply? Contact a Katalystic, Elleon, Xzerocool or Lonepawz in game or head over to our website http://redquill.wowlaunch.com/ and fill out a quick application.Katalystic3 Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 Cdx name changed to Thalissius People keep asking over and over, which is okay but I figured this would help clarify for everyone on the forums as well, there is a lot of confusion out there. Wanted to go for more of an Elven name. Yes there is a little greek to it as well, but also Elven.Thalissius11 Mar 17, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 LF RP-PVP Guild Hello! I am looking at coming back to ED with my Holy paladin. I have a hunter and warrior on ED alrdy but I'm not too familiar with the guilds and who does what! What I'm looking for is a guild who is accepting of RP and does active RBG's on certain days and times! I have played wow on and off since vanilla. Most of the time I've just done dungeons and random bg's. However in WoD I got into arenas and Raiding. This holy paladin is 723 ilvl (PVE gear) 13/13H 5/13M But I really want to get into PVP with him. I did season 1 of WoD and got a small rating of 1600 in 2v2. I have little experience in Rated BGs, but I know all strategies and understand the concepts. I talked about my raiding experience to show that I play at a high level and can grasp strategies quickly and work well with others! If your guild sounds like a good fit for me please leave a comment and I'll get in touch with you! I would also consider bringing my MM/Survival Hunter into the guild if I feel it's a good fit! Alts Phatori RalheimCaedom25 Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 Happy birthday Ganlord You're finally old enough to by rated "T" games! Have a great day maneHearteyes9 Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 [RP Writing Contest] BftNT While the RP Event Battle for Lordaeron and the Northern Territories occurring, there will also be a writing contest held. This is to help get RPers out in the Northern Territories and let people have fun. The writing contest will be for people who want to write out what they experienced during this event (be it in character or just a fan story). This means the writing prompt will be anything related to the Battle for the North. This can include you RPing with other people, your adventures out in the North, your battles, or the D20 event. There will be a 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place winners with an honorable mention. The rewards will be gold. Rewards: 1st - 20k 2nd - 10k 3rd - 5k Honorable Mention - 2k Currently my only toons are Alliance side. So if a Horde benefactor wants to offer the gold rewards to anyone who wins Horde side, I will repay them on Alliance side plus making a weapon enchant for them. The Rules: 1. Prompt has to be about the RP Event 2. No godmod 3. 500 words minimum/2000 words maximum I would like 3 people who would love to judge. I will give judges 2 30 slot bags and 1 weapon enchant at the end of the event. This writing contest will go from March 8 through June 23. One entry per person. Link entry in this thread and make sure the title is [BftNT] (insert RP title).Krounen22 Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 [RP] Reveries of the Executor It was dark when he arrived in Dalaran, the Forsaken was covered completely to hide any wayward bones and rotted hues of flesh from any prying eyes of the Kirin'Tor that were not aware of his arrangement. Covering his glazed white eyes, a pair of tinted goggles were fixed into place - securely strapped. As he wove through the streets he ducked his head and pulled the cowl further over his face to cover his pale, alabaster toned skin. Eyes would constantly fall upon him, but not for long; to justify his slight hunch he walked with a carved walking stick to give the impression of age. Caldrice chuckled softly at the thought, as he was nineteen when his life ended, and it had been nearly that long since he was raised... subtract a few years for good measure, however. His mind rose from thought as he reached his destination, the Dalaran infirmary. He adjusted his pack of scrolls which sat upon his back subconsciously before heading inside. He saw the beds lined with patients, but only one caught his eye, before his gaze could linger, his thoughts were interrupted by the individual working the night shift behind the counter, "We're closed, come back again sometime." The shrill voice of the human grumbled at him. He loosened the pack on his shoulders, and tossed it over the counter before he would cross his arms, looking blankly at the robed figure. Eager hands opened the pack to reveal scrolls of various enchantments and potency within. Their eyes rose to meet his goggled with a wrinkled nose, "You're that Forsaken I was told about. Well, they're all here, but why shouldn't I mention that a member of the Horde is currently roaming the streets of Dalaran with more cover than a shady tree?" Was this man trying to extort Executor Sullivan? His lips curled upward beneath his face-cover as he fished around in one of his pouches that lined his belt. He rolled an orb beneath his fingers before extending it outward to the man, "Here, a bauble for one of such a simple mind." Without another word, he let the greedy man scoop up the orb as he went towards the point of his visit. Her. He had not thought much before, but while his body was stunted in time, retaining the vague features of how he appeared when he died, she had aged. She was still alive; though, her name eludes his memory now. Once darkened streaks of brunette hair gave way to the ravages of time as the color began to lighten and turn grey. Though, upon both of their fingers, a golden band each remained. Slowly he shook his head, wondering how it had gotten to this point. He was undead, and she was in a forced comatose state. He removed the thought from his mind, casting his colorblind gaze over the lone man behind the counter eagerly trying to get the enchantment on the orb to trigger. He glanced towards the woman in the bed once more before turning to take his leave. Before he was entirely out of the building, he waved his fingers in a specific sequence with a wicked grin crossing his face. As he departed into the night, the enchantment of the orb erupted, illuminating the entire building in addition to the surrounding area in a blinding wave of light. As he turned the corner to depart Dalaran, he could only hear the soft padding of silken shoes rushing to the scene as the screams of, "My... my sight... I can't see! My eyes.. oh.. my eyes, it's so dark!" split the silence of the night that had blanketed the floating city just moments before. Though, he left similarly to how he entered; through the Dalaran Sewer System. He quickly paced through the sludge and ruffians that lined the smooth stone walkways until he reached where the tunnels ended. He gazed downwards into the thick trees and magical fluctuation below before clenching his fist in preparation. He glanced towards the golden ring in his ring finger with a shrug, "Perhaps you've enough charge yet." He rubbed a finger over the enchanted wedding band and leaped downwards into the air below in complete free fall.Caldrice7 Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 Ignore/Delete Thread Starting a new thread without all the extra useless postsCaedom41 Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 @Freyja Hey man, we still going to hook face up with that Filipino male order bride?Kained33 Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 Elune Heavily Implied NOT A NAARU SUCK IT From what people have been understanding, it's very heavily implied that SPOILERS WEE WOO WEE WOO WEE WOO (Elune is actually the titan being created inside of Azeroth, the one Sargeras sees as a threat, the one that could be capable of killing the Void Lords)Taelyren19 Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 Moose Mount Me and a bro want to obtain but the moose mount but we are lazy kittens. Willing to pay 30k each (60k altogether) for it. Hit me up on btag Rio#1998Cluckles0 Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 Any Revantusk Guilds out dere? Hey all, is there any Revantusk-themed guilds on ED? Was curious and thinking of leveling a Revantusk Monk.Zulranas12 Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 @people burnt out from WoD Take your garrison hearthstone off of your bar and do !@#$ in the old world. Forget your garrison missions and forget draenor for a little bit. I've been doing stuff that I skipped in Pandaria. Lots of pets and toys to be found. Just forget WoD even exists, even if just for a little while.Colbor33 Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 The Stormwind Scryer The Stormwind Scryer is back after a long hiatus (a year?) It is a newspaper written with GHI addon with sections for in-game news, adverts, and bounties. No website, no forum posts, just in-game. It is also a guild for anyone that wants to make a journalist/ writer/ spy toon, or just generally get involved, there is plenty of room to make it more awesome with some help. The goal is to make it a bulletin for rp, as well as for all things GHI. All the news is based on in-game events, and ideally they have GHI quests to go along with them. The bounties are the main example of this, they are real items that can be set to certain targets and will record successful bounty hunts. I've been pleasantly surprised watching the number of GHI users grow on ED, it's around 50% at times in the Recluse. If you want to get your guild in the paper, place bounties, recount an adventure, make quests for the realm - whatever - be in touch!Autom2 Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 @Clan Ironfist We had a great time fighting you and CBH the other night. We unfortunately could not muster the numbers to keep the fight going but we did our best. I wanted to know if your guild is open to some wpvp against us. We would have to keep it close to 10 to 15 if that is something you can do. Also, if a certain undead hunter wants to do some poking where would that be? Going to the gates of IF is just a bit difficult with the numbers we can get. Thanks again guys for a very fun night.Clowñ2 Mar 16, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 [A][NELF][RP]<Ru Shallora Enudoril> IC The rain danced across the roof sending it’s song down to the old Druid’s room within Nighthaven. He listened to it’s comforting sound, despite the numerous times he had heard the tune before. It pulled him for his musing, though it could have easily put him in deeper thought. He raised his eyes up from his desk, the legs of which were carved to imitate the legs of a stag, running down to the floorboards where they were met by the hooves of the hand made table. He peered out beyond the drapes of lavishly embroidered mooncloth, pinned back, against the door frame on either side, by decorative silk ribbons. The Kaldorei's gaze scanned the railed terrace, looking further, out to Lake Elune'ara where the raindrops danced across the surface creating ripples on the usually still waters. It is so peaceful here...I must not let it distract me, Kahzreth thought to himself. His sight had lingered upon the moonlit lake for a few moments before returning to the parchment that lay in front of him on his desk. In his left hand, he rolled a hippogryph quill-pen feather between his fingers, absentmindedly. The fingers of his right hand, tapped rhythmically against the lacquered top of the table, matching the beat of the rain. He exhaled a loud sigh as his thoughts shifted to sorrowful times, waging a war against the momentary tranquility within his mind, finding it hard to stay focused on his work. He clamped his eyes shut and could feel a lump in his throat as he stifled back his tears. Kahzreth's eyes opened, fixed on the twin daggers laying on his desk. He then dropped the quill and leaned forward in his seat. He brought his elbow up to the surface of the desk and propped his head against his right palm. He brushed stray strands of his mossy colored hair from his face, pushing them back behind his ears. The Druid extended his left arm across the desk to reach for one of the elvish blades. He glided his fingers across the hilt of one of them. Brother, if only I could speak to you now. You understood and knew of pain I did not. Even now as the years drag on, I find myself becoming evermore lost, he sighed once more as he continued meditating on the past. You would have given me much wisdom and encouragement. You never quit, despite all that you suffered. Kahzreth recoiled his hand from the blade and leaned back into his chair once more. The old elf raised his left hand to his chin, his fingers tapping the side of his jaw and his palm cupping his mouth. Yes, I still believe he has lessons to teach me. Even if his physical presence is no longer of this realm. Moving his hand back down to the table, where his quill laid, Kahzreth picked it up, dipping it into the inkpot near his arm. I believe the time has come for me to stop lamenting and take a leave of absence from the Cenarion Circle to focus more on mending and protecting, strictly, my peoples lands and the wilds. A place my heart has always resided. I will persevere as my brother had done in the face of adversity... his thoughts trailed off as his hand elegantly moved the pen across the parchment.Kahzreth86 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 @Honor Guard, The Pack, all Tirisfal invaders Cheers to some great world PvP last night! I was glad that there was some networking going on to pull engagement from RH/TN into this Tirisfal campaign. I'm told that this is sort of an ongoing thing, and being the leader of a Forsaken RP-PvP guild that's reassembling for Legion, and a member of the TN/RH community that could likely stir up a bit more resistance and participation, I'd love to know if there's anything more I could learn about what's going on right now and how to get involved. I'm all about the RP-PvP campaign scene and getting some cross-server involvement going on, so please let me know if I can get more involved! Feel free to drop me a line via in-game mail, or I invite you to check out www.wow-tng.org if you ever want to cross post event information to gather a wider crowd! TNG is Twisting Nether's RP community site, and at this point also has a decent Ravenholdt membership, so it's a good place to let some RPers know when there's fun stuff going on! In any case, it was a good night of fighting and if you Alliance dogs are going to be sniffing around the Queen's lands for an extended visit, I'm sure we'll be meeting again soon!Keraph8 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 [H] WTB CM Gold run Hi I am looking to purchase a Hordeside Challenge Mode Gold (8/8) run for my Hunter I am close to finishing all Dungeons & Raids achievements in game and this is one of the few sections I have left to knock out. I ran tons and tons and tons of 9/9 gold CMs back in MoP on rdruid and hunter. Due to **work** and time limitations I don't have the willpower to make my own groups to PuG them anymore. And I have plenty of gold doing nothing, so.. If you can assist me or you know the right people who can I would love to get in contact to get this done quick and easy. Btag: Solar#1567 ThanksElderflame0 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 Turwinkle speaks with the Ravenwood Company! Hi-ho folks! Turwinkle is back in a brand new Turwinkle Talks episode with the guild called the Ravenwood Company! A fun heavy RP guild on the Alliance side! Come and see what they are all about! From how they were formed, how to get in, their rules, ranks, guild events, and current storyline! Here from the members themselves to see what they like about being in the guild as well. So grab a soda, your favorite snack and enjoy all the Turwinkle and Ravenwood Company goodness! https://youtu.be/ygJVLLAMe5UTurwinkle6 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 I swear the Horde has a hivemind... As soon as one of you gets into PvP, like 9 more pop up out of nowhere. Get into a little scuffle by HFC, have a Pandaren help me, be happy and go about my business. *ominous wind* Suddenly pounced upon by like, 7 members of the Horde. From like 4 different guilds. Needless to say it hurt, but it got me to think - how do you guys even do it? Do you have a little built-in sense like dads do for the thermostat, but for Hordies taking damage? Does it ever backfire; like you stub your toe on your dresser and out of nowhere an Orc, a Tauren and a Forsaken just start pummeling the crap out of it?Lannatte45 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 Who's that Andrew fellow? So I've been back on this server for a few days now and there is this name that keep poping up on forums and I honestly do not recall ever hearing about the bloke before and whenever people mention his name, it just seems vague. So tell me, Who the hell is Andrew and why so many people seem to care about him? enlighten me or try to be clever with some oneliner.Lotrek82 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 This game sucking so bad Blizzard DO SOMETHING you have kept us so bored for so long your a multi billion dollar company wouldn't you at least wanna give your customers a fun experience something they look forward to logging on and excited? id rather !@#$%^-*!e to gay Asian @#$% then this game...Ieigh11 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 3v3 Jungle lf healer 2k xp hunter 1900xp feral lf rsham / dpriest / hpal for jungle. We run normally after 11pm EST and are tired of pugs. Looking for someone who knows their class and can communicate well in arena. We are wanting to push 2k+. Serious inquiries only! We are not try hards, we just want someone to build synergy with. If your interested either reply to this post or add my btag proxy#1477. Thanks.Proxý13 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 Want to buy the name Pong Hello, I'm fairly new to WoW and I would like to find the player with the name Pong to see if they would trade something for it. I'm not sure if this is allow, but please enlighten me, thank you.Pongyue13 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 Login Error?? Anybody else?Katalinamoon5 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 Lf guild Hey all, I'm currently looking for a guild with a strong social atmosphere. I'm a bit of an altoholic a day haven't really had a place to call home which makes sticking to one too a lot harder. Currently I have 698 rogue, 700 dk, 643 Druid, 675 hunter, and 6somethingish paladin. I enjoy pvp though I'm not that great (except on my dk) and I'm trying to get into raiding hfc but it's tough without a guild. I'm available to play most weekdays after 1600, and open whenever on weekends. I find it hard to stick to and gear toons without having friends to play with so I never become attached to one character. I don't wanna bounce between guilds with 4 or 5 people only on at a time either. Please help a brotha out :DGarreion6 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 [Event] Spring 2016 Kosh'harg (Horde-RP) The supple hide of a lamb is nailed to a supporting beam of a nearby building, tacked at four corners with thick, iron spikes. Immediately spotted from a distance is the symbol of the Horde at the top of the hide and a pair of crossed warhammers at the bottom. Thick script emblazoned in a rich dark brown covers the hide as if it has been branded with the words. It reads as follows: Throm-ka, Warriors of the Horde! For generations before their betrayal and corruption our people lived at peace with the elements. We honored the spirits of our ancestors and we fought to defend our homes and bring strength and glory to our Clans. Twice each year, when the day and the night held equal sway, all the Clans would gather together in the sacred fields of Nagrand and seek counsel from the spirits at the Holy Mountain of Oshu’gun. Since our arrival on Draenor the old festivals and traditions of the Horde have become even more important than ever as our victories over the Iron Horde rally many of the Clans to our banners. This Spring as we look toward the end of our dire conflict with Gul’dan and his Shadow Council our eyes turn homeward with hope for a reinvigorated Horde and a secure future As the night fades and the warmth of day shines once more on our people we are more confident than ever that our hour is come: we look to return to Azeroth victorious with new strength added to our numbers! Come then and celebrate with us in Nagrand that was broken. Let us bring the strength of fresh blood to old and broken lands. Let us celebrate our victorious dead and look with hope to tomorrow. Let us look ahead to the road home. Let the Clans be gathered together once more for Kosh’harg! For our ancestors, and FOR THE HORDE!Malmedula0 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 Smolderthorn Tribe (Rp story) Zua needed to move far from blackrock mountain, the alliance patrols would eventually wear down his small band of trolls. His brothers and sisters looked to him to lead them to safety, the legion smiled on him though he only had eight trolls with him soon they would become a warband and bring ruin to the alliance and horde in whatever land they settled in. Zua had meet with blackrock clan and their leader Ripgut, the old orc was fatter than what the troll had guessed, one of the warlords shaman watched Zua while he talked with the warlord of blackrock. It seemed to Zua that these blackrock orcs lost faith in the legion, they have spent to much time away from their brothers and sisters in the mountain, that and the fact that Ripgut used the old throne outside nefarians old lair...it spoke loudly how important the old warrior thought he was. They spoke of glory and gathering his clan with the smolderthorn and they would bring fire to the land of the alliance. Again though he made no mention of the legion, this lack of faith in the legion was enough for Zua to decide to move to Kalimdor, and to take Thunderax Fortress from the burning blade cult from here they would gather strength and bring blood sacrifice back to the legion and his first target would be Ashenvale and the night elves, leaving the Draenei alone on this continent and they would be bleed out slowly for the dark lords of the legion. OOC: if you would like to join Smolderthorn tribe hit me up at BloodFlag # 1373 join the dark horde and bring death to the allianceZuajzibin2 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 [RP] A Plea ((Just a little side-story to a side-plot Taz and I are doing. Didn't proof it.)) Zinki sits on the messy bed, kicking her legs as Sarjen sets his chair down opposite her. The room is small, lit only by a few candles. The window is blocked by a thick curtain, blotting out the setting sun. Any other person might be intimidated by those bright blue eyes and a spirit ripped screaming from the other side, but the young monk knew the knight posed only as much threat as she allowed him. This was the man, after all, who put a sword in her hand and taught her to stand tall in battered plate when her brother would have had her hide away at home after Krasarang. She didn’t use that sword anymore, preferring her fists to cold steel, but the point remained. “Sarjie, make Juzzie come home.” She began, pulling her legs up onto the bed. “Mama still wants to see him, but he won’t come.” The knight folded his hands in his lap, armored – she had caught him just before his shift, specifically scheduled for the time when the sun set and the boys with fear in their stomach wormed away from the things that go bump in the night. “If Juzmik does not want to go,” He replied, measured. “I won’t force him.” The young monk leaned forward, scowling up at rusted red hair. “But she’s dying! And she keeps asking for him, and he’s gotta come home.” She twisted her fist into the sheets. “All she wants is to see Juzzie, but he’s being a baby.” “Avoiding a woman who decries him at every opportunity is hardly infantile.” She blew up at her bangs again as the knight inspected his helmet. The bed squeaked as she shifted. “She’s only worried. That’s what parents do.” Though, truthfully, the air was never thicker than when Juzmik had ventured through the beaded curtains of their mother’s painfully small hut back in Revantusk. “She just thinks, em.” “That I’ve ruined his life and delivered a plague unto her home, on top of his already strange and distasteful predilections.” The death knight arched a brow. “Strange that she doesn’t berate you in the same manner, despite Raiyda’s own shortcomings. Wasn’t he forcibly driven from his own village?” “That’s different, Sarjie, that’s not fa—“ “No, it isn’t very fair at all, Zinki.” He places his helmet over his head, hiding all and muffling the rest. “And demanding that Juzmik sit at the bedside of a woman who has done nothing but heap scorn upon him isn’t fair either.” “But—“ He rose in one fluid gesture, adjusting his gauntlets. “He feels guilty enough as it is.” Axe secured to his back, he turned to the door. “I won’t add to that.” “Sarjen.” She started, voice small. “Please.” The knight glanced over his shoulder, hand on the knob. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” Anything she might have said was lost to the sound of the door clicking shut behind him. The Amani turned, looking down at the bed. She took a breath, and then another, just like Raiyda taught her. At least Taz’jin had agreed to help; he seemed like he genuinely cared, but without Sarjen’s support, her crusade had gotten that much harder. Rolling off of the bed, she returned the knight’s chair to the desk. The monk straightened the paperwork and letters, stacking them neatly to the side before blowing out the candle and slipping from the room.Zinkiji5 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 [RP] The Future ((I wanted to write but it's actually awful. This is an AU, largely because I can, that's why.)) The years are lost in the fire of her hair and soft skin. She stands in stark contrast to broad shoulders and rotten flesh; a firestorm before the citadel personified, sending death packing like so many crusaders before her. The break isn’t clean, the wound festers, but she cleans it as best she can as she places his hands on the swell of her stomach. The shadow hunter elbows his general and voices adulation, more than once drifting from the campfire they’ve gathered around in each new setting to ward off a relapse waiting to happen. The most Juzmik sees of it are blue baubles in the distance. Sometimes he forgets in the haze of firewater, chin against his fingers; it’s a feeling between furious and forlorn, though the lie of reciprocated sentiments died with the crushed letters and fists gripping his throat. It isn’t long before he throws his flasks away to stop the excuse of conditions and hunger that habit refuses to kill. She’s rides him hard, pushing him to success with sweet whispers in his ear. The Shadowprey girl refuses to let him wallow, to slink, to cow before anyone. She doesn’t shield him the way his guard had, but shoves him into the fray time and again. It isn’t long before he becomes Warchief of their scrawny outfit, plans for his bar rolled and buried for good. He sits a little straighter, hair shorn and bearded. Rasek on his right, Taz’jin to his left. One child turns to two, balanced on either hip; the past seems like a haze. His firecracker stays at home for now, a miniature flare toddling after her, every inch her mother’s daughter. The boy comes with him as the Warband moves, hero worship of the older boys in every breath. Mekki insists on cleaning the weapons and running messages, mop of hair ducking and darting between the soldiers at each site. They work with the Ebon Blade on rare occasions, the Horde ripping through a second and third Scourge epidemic. If he ends up back to back with a dead man in shining plate, he says nothing – but they move with more familiarity than is comfortable. The knight vaults him over their foe and he feels the ghost of his braid at his back, a decade obliterated in an instant. The abomination curdles at his feet as the dead man offers him a hand up from the bloody muck. Juzmik is rusted and slow, a red hand pressed to the pretend paladin’s helmet for a single moment before they turn and lose themselves in the fighting. He sits in his tent days later, seven year old boy on his lap. He explains tactics with words he learned when he was pushing twenty from books pushed into his illiterate hands. One of his men shoulders his way inside, announcing the arrival of the new recruits. Juzmik nods, leaving his boy to a laundry list of questions, shouldering his sword and securing his axe before he carries himself outside. Four of them stand in a line in the middle of the yard, helmets tucked under their arms. Two of them are fresh, clearly Amani boys come to join their kin in combat. A Frostwolf with her chin held high, hand on the pommel of her hammer. The last, a rusted old troll with frozen eyes. Juzmik interviews each of them personally, clearing the first three without much fuss; he stands in silence before the fourth. The soldier stares straight ahead, well-practiced, as his Warchief nods once. The Amani turns on a heel and heads back into his tent. He grips the table inside, looking down at the map as he exhales a slow, measured breath. His boy stands in his seat, hand on a pawn as he looks up at his father. Juzmik smiles down at him, wondering how the points connect as he tells his boy to run him through what he’s learned today. ((And then I guess they go to war and probably all die. The end.))Juzmik9 Mar 15, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 If you believe in yourself You too can overcome two instant-spamming caster hybrids by pillar humping. http://i.imgur.com/gxJg4ZZ.jpgFredtide1 Mar 14, 2016