Emerald Dream

May 31, 2016 The Goober Squad take on Scarlet Halls! Hi-ho there folks! A brand new episode of the Goober Squad is up and running! In this episode we find our heroes entering the Scarlet Halls! Come and watch as they take on the bosses that run Scarlet Halls! A huge thank you to Banyth for working so hard to level so he could join us for the run! So grab your favorite beverage, your favorite snack and enjoy all the Goober Squad goodness! https://youtu.be/tp45WY5SOuYTurwinkle0 May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 1 DPS needed for challenge modes Hey all, We're a group of 4 grown-!@# adults who have a weekly gaming night. Our next gaming goal is to beat all of the 5-man challenge modes. Our characters will be ready within the next couple of weeks, but we'll need 1 DPS to fill out the group. Anyone interested in knocking out the 5-man challenge modes? We'd prefer someone who hasn't done it before and won't look up strats online. It's more fun to figure it out ourselves. Hit me up in-game under Colbourne or Rholl. Cheers, ColbourneColbourne3 May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 Your character's walk up song idk if this was a thread already, but list your character's walk up song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8e0kWkDwtpQBobreezy51 May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 Narator's Legion Arms Warrior guide I've done some extensive Beta playthroughs of Arms and feel comfortable enough to write a basic, rudmitary guide to my favorite variant of a Legion Arms Warrior on my blog. http://naratorscreenshot.blogspot.com/2016/05/basic-legion-arms-warrior-guide.html I thought despite the storms of dislikes I will certainly get that I share some of my thoughts and notes on the spec in legion as well as discussing a curious variant of the spec I saw Smexxin play with in a BG.Narator15 May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 (RP) Memorial Day Remembrance Ride (( For the fourth year, Emerald Dream will be hosting a Memorial Day Remembrance Ride and Ceremony for both Alliance and Horde factions. It will be hosted on Monday, May 30th at 1300 hours. (That's 1pm for those unaware of that style of time.) It will be SERVER TIME so everyone will be on the same clock. The Alliance starting point will be announced when the raid is formed to alleviate trolling situations by Horde members and vice versa for the Horde concerning Alliance interference. Both Alliance and Horde participants will converge for the last leg of the journey, from the Barrens to the endpoint of Silithus. THIS WILL TAKE APPROXIMATELY ONE-TWO HOURS. Please plan your time accordingly. At 1230 server time I will begin inviting all those who plan to attend. Please bear in mind that while this is an In Character remembrance for the lives lost in the multiple wars and those that have been lost in the war against the Iron Horde, it is also an Out of Character remembrance for us patriots and family members who have lost someone dear to us. I myself have lost a grandfather, a mother, and many friends to numerous wars, and since I have no means of visiting their graves on this day I host this parade as my way of saying thanks. For any questions direct your comments to myself or to Samsion, leader of the Vigil of the Sacred Fire, who will in turn contact me. Thanks for your time. ))Toriavon18 May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 I am an Arms warrior. I am an Arms Warrior It is in throes of rage I hone my craft. Ever now and evermore, I shall be the calm in the flurries of war. I am precision in destruction. The lucid calm in the travail of chaos. Let the battlefield be my canvas, To be glossed in blood of my foes. For I am the simple perfection, Of a single, fatal stroke. I am discipline in hatred. Courage in malice. And valor in vengeance. I am the Alpha and the Omega. The beginning of your end.Narator91 May 31, 2016
May 30, 2016 I am an Orc ... Green skinned with tusks I fight with my battle axe Durotar is redTreng28 May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 Gnomes take to Ashran! 5/27 fun-run Friday Evening 5/27 The Knights of Gnomeregan will attempt to host a Gnome only (if not Gnome majority) Ashran for any and all Gnomes interested. I would like to, and encourage others to, record or stream it as you like. (Horde are welcome to attend on Gnome alts this event is for everyone! :) ) What this is not: -This is not a gearing run -This is not a serious PvP premade looking to ruin peoples day. What this is: -This is for fun! -This is for more of a... "HOLY SH!Z!!! LOOK AT THAT ENTIRE GROUP OF GNOMES ROLLING AT US! RUN?!" -Sure we will play to win but will remain light hearted for some good old fashioned fun! just message Lemniscate anytime after 8 eastern.Papilon6 May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 Looking to start RP-PVP, tips? I have played WoW for a very long time and have recently decided I might want to venture into the world of RP for more fun in WoW. So here I am. I have heard Emerald Dream is the best server as it has a lot of RP and the server is pretty balanced. I have never RP'd before but I want to try it out. If anyone has any tips I need before starting out, I am all ears :) The first thing I was going to do was start a character bio and start taking screenshots and creating a storyline of my leveling. (Yes, I want to start a character from scratch because, why not?) Any advice will help. Thank you!Fonzzy30 May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 [RP] A Little Break He felt it quite a lot, the numbness in his limbs. On nights when Sarjen was away sating his own thirsts and Taz’jin was off with the men, Juzmik dwelt below ground, pipe in hand, opulent rugs at his back. The sensation of the woven fibers against the moss threaded through his fur was beyond description, and he was loathe to part from it each and every time. The drug dens of Silvermoon were some of the best he’d ever frequented, like or lump the elves that ran them. They certainly eyed him, an Amani with skin to match the wretches that dwelt along their southern border, but gold was gold and the women that ran them tended to not ask many questions. He slunk to a corner, usually, stepping around and over elves and goblins and anyone else who felt like freeing themselves from the cumbersome tethers of the world for a few hours or more. It wasn’t often that he indulged, not with so many responsibilities propped up on his shoulders like mountains of stone on the back of a titan, but sometimes the quiet ate at him, and sometimes alcohol didn’t help. He didn’t feel guilty, much, for his vices, but he still kept this particular card close to his chest. The weighted weightlessness of his limbs was one thing, but the gradual halt of his thoughts was the real ecstasy. They didn’t cease, the rampantly running words, but they slowed like flies caught in molasses, with the clarity of fireflies through sandblasted glass; he could reach out and grab them so much more easily, if only he wanted to do so. Why would he, though? An elf with rose-colored hair lay her head against his ankles, running thin fingers along his leg, eyes glazed with green mists. Her nails were painted, too, like chipped blood. Juzmik smiled and cocked his head back, stretching his fingers. They felt tense, curled like thread around a spool; he smoothed them against the faded rug, pressing them flat, feeling like his own paperweight. The girl mumbled about fighting something so soft, hand cupping his knee. They should all just come live in the city, she continued, if they were all as soft as him. He hummed instead, eyes closed. If he moved, it all might shatter, freeing the fireflies. He might start thinking of the war, of his mother, of his life, dwindling. The girl reveling in her own explorations might be older than his grandmother; he may as well be one of those little bugs to her, blinking in and out of her life, a brief glimpse of brightness in the otherwise dim opiate house. Juzmik spoke slowly, his tongue thick, trying to grasp the words that were filtering through his fingers. He wanted to tell her about Bran; the ranger seemed relevant right now, though he couldn’t really catch up with the why or the how. “It’s…poetry.” He began, feeling the warmth of her cheek against his ankle as she churned against him. “If we just.” He took a moment to breathe, though it felt utterly unnecessary. “If we just tried to talk about…y’know. Stars.” His head lolled against his shoulder and he glanced down at his wide-eyed companion. She rolled over, now, bracing herself against the floor as she half-crawled across him, up and up like the old stories about the boy and the beanstalk. Her hair brushed across his chest as she whispered slurred Thalassian into his ear; the only word he knew, that he could catch, was the same word the old elf had taught him so many years ago. “The stars,” He had said while Juzmik watched those worn hands with the grass of Eversong peeking between his fingers. “The stars, my boy,...” Juzmik couldn’t really remember what about them, not with the lines around those old eyes and the smell of Branbraithe’s pipe clogging his pores, but he remembered the word, the melody of it, and how he might never hear it again. Bran could be dead. Bran could live longer than him, the fruit fly that he was. Would he even matter, then? Would the ranger remember the boy on the beach tripping over his own tongue, or would he just collapse into the grains of sand like…like. The girl brushed a thumb against his cheek, speaking sweetly at him, dumbing down her words as though this was his first time. “It happens,” The minx smiled, “I cried too.” She straddled him, then, and prepared the next round with ivory fingers. It was overdue, after all; he was thinking again and he wasn’t paying for his mind to catch up with him.Juzmik7 May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 [A][RP] Multi-guild Harvest Witch Covens Welcome to the Keepers project. Our goal is to bring life to roleplaying a Harvest-witch by creating a community of Covens and organizing Old Ways themed events and celebrations for all "Covens" listed. These are non-guild orders, and you will not be required to leave your current guild to join one. Whether or not you are accepted into the Coven, however, which should be treated as a mini-guild, a guild within a guild, or a sub-group within a guild, is up to that "Coven"'s current leadership. IC A lone human trudged through the marsh that had become of Gilneas's earth in the wake of the evening's rain. The branches of twisted trees in the Blackwald clanked against one another like hollow bones crying longing to live again. Giant vines with crimson thorns jutted from the earth here and there, and he made effort not to be hindered or slowed by them. The night sky was baren of moonlight, for it was indeed the new moon, but it troubled him little. Even in the black forest his shining green eyes peering out from under his hood could see as if it were merely dusk, with the aid of the stars. It was said that one could seldom find The Wild Home by their own guidance, and he allowed the stars and his intuition guide him on his trek through the decrepit wood. His red hair was held back in a ponytail under his red hood and cloak. In recent weeks freckles had appeared on his nose and upper-cheeks like a mask, and adorning his shoulders and forearms like armor. Soon enough the glowing blue water and ancient runed stones of the Wild Home came into view. The great tree towered above him. He reached to his shoulder-pads and unbuckled them, placing them gently on the thick bark of one of the tree's great roots. He shed his red cloak and hung it on a tall stone decorated with age-old runes. He reached to the back of his head and retrieved the piece of string holding his hair back, letting it all fall against his back freely. He took a breath as he looked up at the great tree. He craned his neck and his body tensed as each muscle stretched, grew, and reformed, his bones and skull elongating, his hair becoming a mane and his freckles becoming hidden beneath fur of grays and orange-tans. His eyes had been clenched shut during the ordeal, of which he was still yet to re-master, and he reopened them now, eyes a shining green. He began his ascent, for what must have been the hundredth time. He leaped from one great branch to the next, knowing the quickest and easiest route up the legendary tree by heart, and reached the top in a matter of minutes. Collecting himself once more, he returned to the form of a human. He attempted to abate the rise and fall of his chest, but the climb never failed to invigorate him. He shook his head for a moment, and realized he had left the tie that had bound his hair at the base of the trunk. It would likely blow away. He tossed the thought aside, this was not what he came for. He mouthed some words quietly to himself, as if remembering lyrics to an epic. From time to time he removed a leather book from the satchel strapped tightly to his back and re-read a few notes before returning it to the satchel and reciting the words silently again. This continued for a half an hour, until he put away the book once more and tossed the satchel aside. He entered the center of the top of the tree and knelt. He began to etch temporary runes into the bark of the tree with his knife, which he would mend with his own energy later. Once finished, he stood, took comfort in a moment to breath, and then began. He opened his arms and spoke, in a tongue still nearly as alien to him as Thalassian, and yet felt as natural as song, as if the very language ran through his veins. “Glaoch mé dhuit” He called out. “Biotáille de Sean, Glaoigh amach na cinn eile de mo ghaoil ​​, mar sin is féidir linn a bhailiú!” ((I call thee, spirits of Old, call forth the others of my kin, so we may gather)) He thought he could feel the wind picking up, and the patter of rain ón wood seemed to become heavier, but he refrained from breaking concentration to observe the weather. “M'ainm a iompar go dtí do leanúna gur féidir leo an t-ainm mac tíre dearg dúirt sa ghaoth a chloisteáil, agus mé inniúlacht siúd” ((Carry my name to your followers that they may hear the name of the Red Wolf said in the wind, and to me their's.)) He stopped, not knowing what else to say. He considered repeating himself, but he knew not if it would do him much good. If it was the will of the spirits, then it was. If not, he could not persuade them otherwise. He opened his eyes and looked down at the bark surface, now freckled with drops of rain, and spotted a few old runes scratched into the bark from ages passed. He wondered how many of his ancestors had climbed this very tree before him, and how many would after. He knelt and placed his hand against the rough bark, and began to heal the marks he had made.Raedolf37 May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 Memorial day This day is a day for Veterans. Not because of their service, but because of their memories of their friends, their comrades who didn't make it back. In my course of studies I have had the privilege to interview and listen to the Veterans stories of their time in the sh*t-hole called war. And without fail there is a recounting, a reminiscence of their mates who didn't make it back of shared quiet times. We who never fired a shot in anger or fear, we who never felt the earth move from artillery, we who never knew the whine of a bullet splitting the air and wonder if it was meant for ourselves or someone else, we happy many in these United States will never know the sheer, absolute terror of war. We are so blessed in so many different ways, we don't even know it. But for the Veterans that blessing comes with pain, a quiet pain with lifetime scars that we happy many see so few and rarely we're often confused by the sullenness of a Veteran whose empty eyes are seeing something else than we are for they see their lost comrades sitting around with them watching the world go quiet for a small, significant bit of time. It took me near two decades to learn this little, yet significant factoid that today, we all share a day with our veterans who for them is an every day occurrence this quiet moment of family and friends... a bitter moment that echoes their past. Semper fi, not so much for a flag or slogans, but for each other which is what makes America great. A quiet memorial day I wish for you all.Shadowjax2 May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 Greetings blood-children of the Lord Tact! I have returned from my long journey across the seas of Azeroth in search of the Holy Cheese of Tact. As it was foretold in the Prophecium, the One True Religion of the New God of Azeroth would vanish from the minds of the forsaken and faithless people of Azeroth! Long is the Memory of Tact, but short are the memories of those who do not drink of the Aspect of Blood! The Newer Azerothian Pantheon has no doubt abandoned the Lord Tact. As also foretold in the Prophecium, "the Undersweeper will sweep away all that the Lord Tact created, as his servants scoured the seas for curdled righteousness. Unfortunately, we have returned empty-handed, The Holy Cheese of Tact remains a lost artifact. But fear not. There is much to do, blood-children, and I shall do it. The Lord Tact continues to speak to me through the words of the Book of Tact, and he tells me that a new age has dawned upon us. It is the Age of Darkness, but soon it shall become an Age of Blood!Turun16 May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 In game Exploits on ED In an effort to get this fixed as soon as possible I am going to post a link to a thread I made on the bug forums. http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/20742984392 Soul Capacitor trinket is currently able to be exploited against players and hit them for many many many millions.Kagrenac98 May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 (RP) I Pledge My Allegiance Mairaila opens her journal and begins to write; Usually I tend not to write my journal entries so close together, but I feel as though I may not have time to return home to but my journies into writing anytime in the near future. Reason being is I need to travel lite and anything that is not necessary may be of hindrance. In my last entry of wrote of a presence I have not felt in a long time and the familiarity it had both in anger in fear. I know I have felt this presence before but just can not put my finger on when I have felt it before. But I digress, as I have a different reasoning behind this entry. With this entry I am going to pledge my services to the Stormwind army and Stormwind's king. I will always fight for Darnassus and it's people when I am needed but for two long I have been watching from a far as our world has fallen apart. So I will the tabard of Stormwind in my journeys as me and my two sisters venture out to try and figure out what the presence all of us have felt and what it means. While we have hope it is one of good, we fear it may have a more sinister ending. Mairaila sets her pen down at looks over to her faithful companion Aeryn and motions for the Frostsaber to follow.Mairaila0 May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 How many HKs. What is the most you have on one character? I got 105392 on Hargus atm.Hargus33 May 30, 2016
May 29, 2016 Fûthark the Great For he, Futhark the savage hero, carried the legendary ring of Thorasus. His precious ring gave him powers of a god. Nay, General Himanshu of The Warsong regime planned to destroy this Dwarf's home. That he did, and Fúthark pledged to slay every solider under Dictator Himanshu's command. His heart and the power of of his ring made him Unleash the Mania inside of him. The alliance lays in a pool of blood, The United armies breaking the will to fight. Now Futhark, and his father Danterius must restore the fighting will of the alliance... Or watch their world perish before the Emperor's hand of mercy.Droben4 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 [RP] Inquisitor (Time Period: Pre-BC) She had to tug hard on the reins to stop Vice from lunging. Privately, Prax hoped that no one had noticed the harsh tugs on the creature, she didn’t need to look any more uncertain than she already did. The thing about tests in the Scarlet Crusade is that they did not chose to inform you that your skills were under examination. This made sense from the standpoint that then it truly became a test of skill, but that was only if the testee was unaware they were being tested. Praxidicae Gabriel Luxwell was not stupid, and so when she was informed that she was to inspect the refugees coming in with the eighth division, without the oversight of a full-blown Inquisitor, she knew exactly what this was. She was being tested to see if she was ready to become an Inquisitor proper. Prax did her utmost to make sure her face was expressionless as she was perched from the back of Vice, her warhorse, hands white as she gripped the reigns. She peered down at the 8th Division’s Captain. Captain Addington was a remarkably tall man, with light blond hair and dull brown eyes that glittered with something Prax wanted to term ‘malice’. It was the word closest. She had never liked Captain Addington, though his record was considered ‘near-perfect’ by the Crusade’s standards. He was too focused on the eradication of the undead, often uncaring of the refugees that he came across. Prax had considerable disdain for that line of reasoning - killing the undead was all well and good, but abandoning refugees in favor of killing said undead was tantamount stupidity. It was as good as offering the Scourge more ‘soldiers’ on a gold platter. There was also the fact they were both Paladins. It was their duty and charge to defend the weak first and foremost - killing their enemies was secondary. Or that theoretically was the case, however Prax had rarely found a Paladin that followed that ‘rule’. She nodded stiffly as Vice pranced in place. “Captain Addington.” Captain Addington glanced at her, and raised an eyebrow. “Apprentice Luxwell.” The stress on Apprentice was profound, which likely meant he was trying to make it clear that he was in charge here, and Prax was not. Most days that would have been the case. Today was not one of those days. “I have been discharged by High Inquisitor Evanston to examine the refugees you have brought with you, Captain Addington. I presume that will not be a problem?” There was a pause, and Addington’s brow furrowed, before something appeared to dawn on the Paladin, and he smirked, stepping to the side and gesturing at a pathetic scrabble of refugees that was hovering a little ways off from the division. “Of course, Luxwell. Over there. They’re from the south sector, and the Plague hasn’t progressed that far yet. We decided to preemptively move them before that happened.” “I am capable of seeing where your finger is pointing, Captain Addington.” She said, voice flat, and then nodded again. “I see. So there should be no issues. However, you know that this inspection is protocol.” Without waiting for a response, she urged Vice in their direction, kicking the horse a few times to make sure he went a controlled pace. She peered down at the refugees, which flinched somewhat at her approach. They looked like each group she’d ever seen - face’s gaunt, tired, wary, scared, hope flickering in almost dead eyes. Dirt covered, clothes torn, huddled together. She dismounted, and approached the group. They flinched again, then relaxed when they realized the top of her head barely reached the shoulders of most of them. She wove her way through the group, taking in the faces, hands, bodies of men, women, and children, sharp green eyes trying to find a hint of plague. They look exhausted, and a few looked very faintly ill, but the symptoms seemed to ring true to a more cold-like sickness. Thankfully, none of the group spoke, simply allowing the short young woman to weave her way through the group.Praxidicae8 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 [RP] Inquisitor's Hunt - A Turn For the Worse (This is the sequel to http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/20743725221 I'm very glad to get this out, it took me a while to write and then rework because I wanted to write more and turn this into a series.) “An inquisitor has many duties, Merellia. Your new role will be essential to the success of the Crusade. You will still act as a healer and a confessor for your fellow Crusaders. You still bless and strengthen your allies with the Light. However, your role extends much further than that. Remember, we must take great steps to destroy the undead. Torture… slaughtering the plagued refugees… even execution of the traitors among us must happen if we are to win this crusade.” “I understand, sir. But… what about battle? Do inquisitors not take to the field?” “When an inquisitor goes to war, they burn away the undead with the righteous flame of the Light. Cultists quake in their boots at the very sight of you, and Crusaders are empowered by your presence there. In battle, you are an instrument of the Light’s vengeance...” Merellia woke from the dream with a start, clutching at her shoulder as fresh pain lanced through the wound. She applied pressure to the wound, taking time to get her bearings. She was still in the small chapel. Light filtered in through the small stained glass windows, but she had no idea what time it might have been. She’d only fallen asleep for a moment… or so it seemed. Her assailant’s slightly-charred corpse was a few yards away, still thrown into some pews where she’d left it. She dragged herself up to one of the pews, sitting up in it. Merellia’s head swum, and her mind was so foggy. The undead must have done something to her. Some sort of spellcraft, perhaps. She cast her eyes about as her head was beginning to slowly clear… and then caught sight of the dagger lying next to one of her maces, still coated with her dried blood. That might have done it, then. The assassin had coated his daggers with poison. Not a deadly poison, but one meant to disable. Even after her little nap, it clouded her mind and slowed her movement. She would have to purify herself with the Light… there was no way she’d make it to a medic, or even the church, at least not in this state. This was going to hurt, but at least if there were any more poisons in her, they would be gone. Merellia closed her eyes and slowly raised her hand to the wound. That was where it would need to start. Her lips began to move in prayer, doing her best to speak the words of power correctly as Light began to course into the open wound. It lanced through her body, and she felt as if her very veins were on fire as the Light purified, searching for the poison and destroying whatever remained in her body. The normally-stoic Merellia cried out as it cleansed the poison. Tears streamed down her face, running out from underneath her faceplate to drip onto the pew. The Light coursed through her veins, burning the poison for a few more moments before the sensation vanished. She slumped down against the pew now, exhausted from the cleansing. Just a moment to rest… I can continue hunting later. After a few moments, Merellia slipped back into sleep.Merellia4 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 [RP] Big Bear and Little Bear ((Ay what up, I did not proof read and appreciate criticism! Wanted to write about my wee nelf.)) It was a nice day. Most of the days had been nice, being summer in Darkshore and most of the storms still a good month out. The young druid standing on the breakwall sighed and looked out to the trunk of the new tree in the west, the faint hum of magic reaching him even there. “Are you listening to me?” The woman next to him asked, arms folded across her chest. “Of course.” He smiled, eyes torn from the distant roots for only a moment, convincing enough to let her continue. He only ever half-listened. She asked him questions about the Emerald Dream, and spoke to him of the swell of the waves, which ships were coming in and who their captains were. What kinds of boats they were, how to tell which ones were old and which were new. The night elves built to last so there was little difference between them, but she found a way. The language of flags strung between sails. The stitching in the canvas. Which priestesses they were named after and why. Her eyes shone like stars the more she talked and he was content to listen, lost in his own world though he was. Her name was Fendalis Littlebear, and he adored her. “You’re gonna go there when it’s done, right?” Her voice was low, sweet, and her tongue rough like all girls raised in the woods away from Nordrassil. She’d seen little and less of the city and was young, the scars on her chin and chest still fresh from skirmishes along the Ashenvale border. “Teldrassil? I don’t see why not. Otherwise I’d end up back in Moonglade.” They let a moment of silence fall between them, gulls wavering above white caps, the turmoil beneath stirring with hunger. “They’re gonna want you to sleep again.” Ely nodded. All druids spent time in the Dream. It was their charge, to protect the mirror of the world, the seed of life as it should have been, before the milk of the arcane broke the crust of the earth and changed things, for better or worse. He’d only been in there once past his training. He was still new and not quite as quick as others in his class, grasping little beyond changing shape, but the war against the nightmare waited for no one, and if he went back to Moonglade he’d be given a spot in the barrow dens and sent to defend them, whether he liked it or not. He had the faintest idea of what made him want to stay. “Why don’t we stay here in Darkshore? There’s still work to do, probably more even. They’re gonna build a city in the branches, right? Probably a lot of trade. I could get a spot on a proper boat; I can read the stars and everything else, you know. I could find a job anywhere.” Ely smiled. Fendalis made her money scrapping outside of bars, rolling dice and hiding cards in her waistband. The thought of her holding a steady job was more fanciful than him becoming Archdruid. But east of them was only Ashenvale, and south was the red dust of the mountains and the desolate lands beyond, and the ruins of the druidic forts in Silithus manned by elves who hadn’t seen the city in years and expected it to stay that way. A novice like him had little choice. “Or east. If you want.” She sounded almost sheepish, the tinge of blush in her cheeks hidden by her dark hair. “We’ll be fighting the orcs if we go to Ashenvale, Fen. You know this.” He eyed her scars. “No, I mean… east. To Stormwind, where the humans are.” Stormwind. He’d never been there. Almost none of them had. The human king like a lion, broad-shouldered and almost as tall as the elves, lording over his land of grain and good earth. Ely had never even seen a human at all until recently. A whole city full of them? “I don’t know, Fen…” Ely frowned, tugging on the end of his beard. “Well we have to do something!” She shoved him, not hard, a pout clinging to her lips. “They don’t let me hang out in Moonglade, and I don’t wanna be stuck here without… without you.” Ah yes, the faint idea. His reluctance to return to the Dream. A slender girl waiting for him on the other side, and for how long? Without their immortality, he may never see her again. She could go old, like the humans, or he could die on the other side and never awake, buried in the barrow dens like so many others. But the worry in her eyes broke his heart, and it was all he could do to reassure her, white lies for simpler times. “We’ll find something, Fen.” He smiled, broad hand on the small of her back. “It’ll be good, you’ll see. For both of us.” ((And then she became a demon hunter l0l))Rasek9 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 [RP] a druid and a hard place (( I wrote a little thing -- shout out to Dez for helping me with the Elkyria parts and helping put it all together with me, you da best. )) Pallene settled down in the chair beside the bed where her sister Ellerya was in a deep sleep, resting after the evenings event. “You’re stupid and this is what I was afraid of.” She stared angrily at the unconscious elf, almost hoping for a witty retort, a snort, some sort of objection or any sort of response. But alas, there was no change to her condition. The sound of footsteps echoed through the room and paused in the doorway, Pallene didn’t even need to turn to know who it was, and she knew she couldn't resist the urge to say something. “This is your fault Elkyria, I knew you would drag her into some sort of mess and she’d end up getting herself hurt - complete disregard for safety.” Elkyria growled and in one swift movement had Pallene against the wall by her throat. “Watch that sharp tongue of yours priest, you don’t need it to heal.” Elkyria’s wild eyes burnt through her like a hot knife through butter. “One more word like that and you’ll be watching me feed it to the hippogryphs.” The priest glared angrily back at the druid, ignoring her threats. “Look at my sister,” she spluttered through labored breaths, trying to wriggle free of Elkyria’s iron grip on her throat. “How do you expect to fight this battle if you’re letting things like this happen to the people loyal to your cause?” Elkyria released her grip on Pallene’s throat and her gaze fell on Ellerya, the leather armor she wore torn apart and hanging onto her broken frame by threads barely covering the heavily scarred flesh that Pallene had healed in just the nick of time. “You fear that one day you will lose your sister? Many of our people have given far more to this cause than us, Pallene. Fellow Kaldorei also feared what would happen; a rusty Orc sword falling onto their loved one’s neck, forcing them to wander - searching for a place in the stars. They all feared losing everything - their homes, their way of life, and themselves. The difference between all of them and you.. No, all of us and you. Is we also fear this, but we go to fight anyway.” Pallene dropped to the floor and slumped against the wall, her mind obviously torn. “What are we doing, Elk? Can we really do this? Do we even have a shred of a chance at this being a success - or are we headed to an early grave for a lost cause? It’s not that I don’t want to fight, I care about this - I just think we should pick our battles.” Elkyria smirked and walked out of the room for a moment returning with a blood soaked Orc head, she tossed it towards Pallene who instinctively reached out and caught it. Pallene paused momentarily and turned the head so it was facing her, not noticing the gushing dark liquids soaking her robes. The priest drew a sharp breath and peered curiously at the cold, lifeless eyes that vacantly leered back at her. The realization of what she had gotten herself into suddenly weighing heavily on her shoulders. “Now if you don’t do anything - they’ll be coming for yours.” And with that said, Elkyria turned on her heel and walked out of the room, without a second glance.Pallene4 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 (RP) Voices, Visions, the Price of Sacrifice ... Eyes closed, I sit motionless besides the tremor that shakes my soul when The Voice leaves me. Even with the chill night air coming through the tower window, beads of sweat drip off my face and body, making small splashes on the stone floor around me. The dizziness that follows The Voice's visions has been getting worse of late, since leaving Pandaria and returning to Stormwind. Clutching at the golden chain around my neck, fumbling for the Blood Shard against my breast, I finally open my eyes to see that night is almost over. The smooth red shard always feels cool to the touch, a reminder of the cold grip of the Shadow's touch. Instinctively I look down at my hands, permanently marked with the Sha, slowly, working its way up my arms like an unstoppable plague. The price paid for power, knowledge, and more importantly... for Life. I rise to my feet, inside a circle of arcane dusts and powders. Stepping out of the circle, careful to not disturb the intricate pattern, I head toward the open window for fresh air. I mentally summon the hooded figure in the corner, to bring my robes as the chillness overcomes the sweat. The ghoulishy masked assassin was my devoted fearless slave, thanks to the Shard amplifying The Voice's mind control Blood rituals (and all because of a botched attempt to infiltrate the Cathedral). Things have gotten... sloppy as of late, no thanks to the headaches, the visions, the increasing dizziness, not to mention the bloodlust. "I've found the cure, I'm this close" whispering to myself "I will get the sacrifice, No more mistakes!" Hissing the last few words, I look out the window at the Cathedral, lit up in the night sky just like it was every night. I used to find it opulence beautiful with all its lights. Now? A cursed hindrance, a fortress even! For inside, was the sacrifice needed for the final cleansing ritual. My dear old teacher! "Soon, the time comes when she who failed me, will find out what its like to have the Light fail her!" (( Edit - This is something I've had kicking around since last fall when I got my new PC. Writers block after losing that old HD with a huge story in progress killed me. Plus working 6 day weeks b/c mandatory OT is a thing... womp. Decided that if I posted this much of it, Dez would give me a break! (and maybe I'd actually overcome this block and finish it all!) Did some last minute editing, quick polishing, but it's prob still rough and full of errors. IDC THO ITS RP DAY SO YA! Edit 2 (b/c I can) Timeline The Mask, and the Shadows http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/13423452838#1 The Mage's Bounty (thx Degno for the inspiration) http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/13923142895#4 then this short piece. The full piece will have flash backs, showing my sloppy murderous past in Stormwind! ))Bathory14 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 [RP] Obscure ((Writing anything has been difficult for me because I have not been RPing as much as I'd like to, though I hope to fix that! Still, here's a short, mostly introspective bit for RP day because I wanted to participate at least.)) Shiriya pinched the bridge of her nose, brow furrowed and eyes shut for a moment. She held still, breathing slowly, trying her hardest to focus. Without realizing, her lips moved in a soundless prayer. With any luck it would drag her back to a more level-headed state. Perhaps keep those shadows at the corners of her vision from swaying and creeping along like pitch black flames. Maybe keep the slight, hissed whispers from those long dead out of the back of her mind. Focus was coming to her less easily lately. With a huff, she dropped her hand and opened her eyes, looking off at the dreary view before her. The Plaguelands lived up to their name, and from her vantage point atop one of the guard towers at Tyr's Hand, it was still a bit jarring how the spoiled landscape seemed to stretch on and on. Beyond still, Tirisfal was no prize either in it's present state. Not when it was still teeming with those shambling corpses pretending to be...human. She felt a very slight shudder up her spine. Shiriya didn't exactly want to give much more thought, currently, to the forsaken. She didn't want to think of the rotting faces or the exposed bones, the flesh pulled taut over emaciated bodies or the hollow, lantern bright eyes. They were less than a stone's throw away from the scourge, abominations and ghouls that had been seen in Northrend. Her own history and work with the Argent Crusade had brought her up close, disgustingly so, with several sorts of them. With a shake of her head, she scattered the images from her mind and turned away from the view. Arms folded over her chest, she started to make her way down the spiraling wooden steps of the tower. Her own footfalls echoed some, but that wasn't the only audible sound. When she finally exited the tower itself, she could see the others. The grounds were alive with activity, a definite contrast to the stillness of the Plaguelands themselves. There was chatter, the signature dwarven guffaws here and there, there was even the familiar clash of weaponry. Relaxing her posture and dropping hands to her sides, she made her way towards the others. Standing near, she watched with them as a rather spirited duel took place on the grounds. There was little chance either would get too gravely injured, but the mender-side of her kept a close eye on both. You never quite stopped being cautious as a healer, after all. They all had to stay sharp as none would deny that as a collective they were only as strong as their weakest link, so the responsibility fell on every individual to carry their weight. That structure didn't bother her, in fact, it was an odd sense of security that came from it. She wondered if the rest were feeling as restless as she was? As though to cover the almost 'on edge' feeling, everyone seemed to be keeping busy. When you were busy, be it with a chat or a joke, or sparring, you had less time to over-think anything. She couldn't really blame any of them if that was the case, she would be more than glad to try and ignore that sinking feeling. Still...one should never ignore a gut feeling. A particularly loud clash of blades snapped her to paying better attention again, and if that hadn't pulled her focus the consequent call to form up certainly did. The duel came to a close immediately, and everyone began to move, herself included. Any bad feelings would have to be shelved for the time being. If they were being called to form ranks, then there was some patrol or offensive on the horizon. There were times to wait and defend, but there were also times to take the initiative. It was times when the offensive move was theirs to take, letting them get right into the thick of things, that reminded Shiriya why she'd sought them out and joined in the first place. Doing something would always be better than nothing. It was a testament to survival, a silent way to honor those that could no longer fight, and she intended to do just that for as long as she could. Then, perhaps, the shadows at her peripheral would fade and the soft whispers would subside? The priestess could only hope.Shiriya6 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 I need some help! (Deciding to transfer) Hello everyone :) I am currently looking to transfer servers as I made the mistake of transfering to a pve server. Being a hardcore pvper, I am hating my time here on zul'jin... anyways, I want to transfer again and need an idea of how active the pvp scene on Emerald Dream is. I am drawn to the balanced alliance/horde ratio and have read a lot of posts saying emerald dream is a great server. QUESTIONS: Are there rbg's/arena's being pugged in trade chat? is there frequent guild recruitment? what about wPvP/ashran? Also, how intense is the RP? I have never played on an RP server but have played other hardcore role playing games so I am no stranger to it. I just dont want to be around anything related to goldshire on moonguard (my eyes can only be cleansed by ragnaros' flame). Finally, are there any guilds currently recruiting for a rbg team that needs a rogue with 3 years of experience of rogueing. (2100 rating xp) I am willing to do tryouts and everything if needed. (I am 19 years old btw)Sweve8 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 [RP] A Brief Jaunt Forward ((I wanted to write about Juzmik's children. So. I mean. Here.)) The troll boys lay on their stomachs, stretched out against the desert sands, binoculars in hand. Blue skinned with mops of hair the color of the night sky to match, they mirrored each other in every way. Even now, for reasons that exasperated everyone they knew, they wore the same gear and occasionally swapped names. Tik, the youngest by mere minutes, glanced over at Tak and blew up at his bangs. “Y’know dad’s gonna be pissed that we lost the map.” Tak didn’t deviate from his objective, the camp in the distance. “Dad won’t be pissed if he doesn’t find out.” He wiggled his nose, sniffing. “He’s half a world away-“ “-trusting us to-“ “-bring it home safe and sound. I know.” The older brother waggled his binoculars toward the settlement dismissively. “And we’re gonna get it back. It’s fine.” Tik pulled a face and returned his own spyglasses to his face. Fresh-faced and eighteen, they’d decided to encourage their quote-unqoute leader Riska into taking a gamble on some favors a family friend had owed their parents. Money was riding on it, and their father had called in some extra nods to make it work. “I mean, I didn’t have !@#$ when I was your age,” Juzmik had said, several days before, laying on his back in the warm afternoon sun. “It’ll do you good to get into the business.” The old Amani maintained that, at over forty, he was just relaxing on a nice day and decidedly not harboring a moderate amount of back pain, sprawled as he was on the wooden landing. Sarjen, decidedly more liberal with his interpretation of Juzmik’s statement, tested the boundaries of his hypothesis regarding spinal injuries as the boys scampered away with their treasured contact information. In the distance, the twins spied a behemoth of a man, flanked by several more bandits. The map, as it had turned out, contained a few choice directions to several arms stockpiles. Certainly enough secret a few away for sale on the black market. “A good introduction,” Juzmik had called it, swatting at Sarjen’s feet in between his ‘noises of encouragement’ and not ‘awful pained grunts’. “They’ll really like it if you turn up with good weapons. But eh, try not to give away all the secrets, huh?” The twins ran their tongues across their lips at the same moment, dropping their binoculars, speaking at the same time. “There’s no way we’re getting in there by ourselves.” “We don’t have enough smokebombs.” “Or bullets.” “Or knives.” “Or muscle.” “Maybe we –should- call dad.” “But he’s—“ “Not dad, dingus. –Dad-.” ---Juzmik13 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 Memorial day In our community here on ED there are those who have served in our nations military. There are those who have supported these people and there are those have felt the sacrifices made. On this day I salute and honor those of my brothers and sisters who have served and are still serving. From my deepest heart I thank those who support us For without a grateful nation we would not be able to carry out our mission. I post this as a Navy Veteran and in memory of brother who fell in battle in Iraq.Sentoshi15 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 Which Faction? For the Horde? For the Alliance?Armgasm53 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 Bloodthirsty Headhunter learning this world OOC: It was mid Cataclysm that I left Ravenholdt Horde for Mal'Ganis Alliance, and with many ups and down thru multiple expansions and changes in my personal life, interest in the game has been a rollercoaster. We welcomed a new baby into our home just about two weeks ago, and with that comes a lot of "busy downtime," if that means anything. Back to WoW it is I guess! Its been more than five years since I've played on an RP server or as a Horde character, but I'm ready to dip back into something new. Active wPVP is my preferred flavor, but I'm not interested in raids. I prefer going as a solo assassin, or in groups of 5 or less. Wreck havoc, collect kills, and if the heat turns up, keep moving and keep them guessing. There's the thrill of the hunt, and the endless frustration and destruction sewn upon the enemy. My personal backstory is still being developed so I won't get deep into it here, as to not create any conflicts that I have to clean up later... For now, I'm looking for home to level in as I develop a taste for this character and realm.Trygveseim4 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 RPers of Emerald Dream I'm curious, as someone who is super new into the whole RP aspect of the realm, what keeps you to keep writing stories? What're some things you add to your backstory?Visibilities24 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 [RP] Bird is the word Taruk "Bullseye" Swifthoof looks out over the bluffs with his newest animal companion at his side. He was having trouble thinking up a name for the carrion bird. Bullseye looked at the bird and it stopped scratching the ground at looked at him. "How about "Red" for a name?". The bird turned it's head as if to say "not that one". The hunter continued thinking while the bird went back to scratching for bugs. The tauren thought to himself ,"Perhaps I should continue adventuring on my own? I've been doing it for so long now that I'm used to it. It seems wrong to travel with a companion with no name." Bullseye then looked over to where the bird just was and it was gone. He then stood up, yawned and then stretched. "Now where did that bird get off to? I hope it isn't causing any trouble." He then started tracking the familiar claw marks in the dirt and heard a loud voice yelling "Get out of there you beast!". Dreading what he knew was about to be a big headache he kept following the tracks and the shouting kept getting louder and louder. "Whoever's animal you are is in BIG TROUBLE!" The tracks lead into a fisherman's tent and Bullseye already knew what was going on. He sighed and said a silent prayer to the Earthmother for strength. Then he entered the back of the tent to a interesting sight. Bait buckets knocked over and bugs crawling every direction. Multiple Fish flopping on the ground from a tank that had knocked over and a very angry shopkeeper with two burly bluffwatchers looking at the carrion bird that was eating the bugs crawling on the floor. Bullseye first quickly put the fish in an empty fishbowl and filled it with water from his pack. "This will have to do for now." He then began attempting to get to the bird without stepping on any bugs but hooves are not the best for moving gingerly and before he got to the bird he stepped on a bug with a loud "CRUNCH". This drew the attention of the shop keeper as Bullseye continued making his way over to the bird. "Is this YOUR animal?" Inquired the shopkeeper. "This...This...." He stuttered. "Bird is the word." said Bullseye. "Huh?" said the shopkeeper. "Bird is the word you are looking for" said Bullseye. "Whatever it is, it's made a huge mess and caused me a great deal of trouble. In fact I feel like "Trouble" should be that beast's name." growled the shopkeeper. Bullseye looked down at the bird and said "Trouble huh?" The bird then squaked and Bullseye smiled. "Do you think this is FUNNY?" shouted the shopkeeper. "Look at my shop! It's a mess! Some of the bait that little troublemaker ate I had to have delivered from Orgrimmar! Now you owe me some gold or we will have a problem. Don't make me have to hurt you." Then the two bluffwatchers put their hands on their weapons as well. Bullseye knew he could incapacitate all three of them easily but didn't want to create even more of a scene as the shouting of the shopkeeper was slowly drawing a crowd of curious onlookers. "How much do I owe you?" said Bullseye. He then put his hand on the bird's back and said to it,"go wait outside. It will probably be better if you wait out there and STAY there." The shopkeeper did some calculations in his head and came out to 239 gold 49 silver 46 copper. Bullseye counted out the money and put it on the counter and then walked out of the store. Then he walked out of the store without saying a word. The Bluffwatchers then sneered at him and Bullseye wanted to hit them with an armored fist. He kept his cool and started to walk away from the store with his companion and he heard the shopkeeper call out after him, "I'll come see you if I require more gold for damages." Bullseye then drew his crossbow in a flash,aimed and fired it in a way that comes from from years of practice and let loose an arrow that sunk into the wood of the shop an inch above the shopkeeper's head. The bluffwatchers started toward Bullseye but he had already notched another arrow in the speed that only comes from practice and aimed it at them. He then gave them a look that would stop a kodo charge and pointed at the shopkeeper. "That was a warning. Just know that was a warning. I don't miss twice." Bullseye then told his companion, "Lets go before these fools do something they regret." The walk back was easy for them and Bullseye then sighed in relief. "That could have gotten way more ugly very quick. They will probably be trouble in the future." As he said the word "Trouble" he looked at the bird at he smiled. "Well I guess we found you a name." The bird then cooed at him and Bullseye knew that maybe today wasn't such a bad day after all.ßullseye8 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 [RP] Reunion P1 (( quick write up this evening, had a little RP meeting today and it inspired this piece, again its been a while since I have written any RP, just one letter. However, I doubt I will finish part 2)) River Sageblade stood on the deck of an Alliance boat, shielding his eyes from the bright sun. Despite the humid heat, he was comfortable in his plate armor. Walking to the edge of the boat, he removed his gauntlets and set them on his sack. An unprotected head allowed for his long blue hair to wave in the wind as he leaned over the rail. Sticking his hand out, he collected the mist cast up from the bow before applying the cool ocean water to his face. As his hand fell past his eyes, his gaze shifted to Teldrassil. His long angular ears perked as he look up, ignoring the almost blinding rays of an Azeroth sun. He spoke softly, "I am home." As the boat docked, he studied the wildlife frolicking along the shore without a care in the world. River took one step onto the docks as a plethora of familiar scents rushed his senses. Taking a deep breath, he savoured every hint of a life he missed dearly. Draenor had been good to him but his heart belonged here and it ached deeply for a love he had mistreated. He slowly walked up the docks as the blaring sound of a navel bell rang in the distance. He would have turned to watch the boat fade over the horizon but every beat of his heart ensured his amber eyes would stay focused on that elegant purple tree. River approached the tree as his stomach turned in turmoil. He grasped a shimmering amulet which hung from his chest. Shaped in a crescent moon, it was one of the tokens his better half, Dawn Feathersong, had given him some time ago. He treasured this keepsake more than anything and in his darkest hours, it kept him safe. River took another breath and look up, “Why did I wait so long, how could I have waited so long?” With another deep breath he swung his sack over his shoulder and stepped through. Although it had happened years ago, River remembered it as if it was yesterday. He could tell she wanted to accompany him, she would have been by his side until the rivers ran dry and the trees turned to ash. But, he had left her behind and he regretted his stupidity every moment after his departure. He knew, not even the power of Elune could grant him forgiveness for this abandonment. He looked down, opening his hand to reveal a handful of purple petals, Twilight Jasmine, her favorite. He had always kept a fresh bunch on hand. Even in Draenor, he had them sent in supply runs to garnish the letter filled desk he called a command table. Over consumed by his heartache, River didn’t realize he was already standing before the bank. Upon his realization he dropped his sack and turn around to look upon the beautiful pavilions of Darnassus. He stood there, in silence, letting the beautiful city speak to him once more. Gazing as leaves fell gently onto the bright blue waters as Elune’s Power illuminated Teldrassil's glory. He gracefully walked up the white stone bridge that connected the inner island with a Terrace that overlooked most of Darnassus. As he stood there, gazing upon the grace of Elune, a soft brush quickly passed by his leg. A familiar feeling rushed through his limbs and struck at the core of every cell in his body. He was immobilized.River0 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 Warcraft Movie reviews from critics.... http://www.gamespot.com/articles/warcraft-movie-review-roundup/1100-6440152/?ftag=GSS-05-10aaa0a The critics are comparing it to WoW when its not even about WoW..... Its about WARCRAFT not WORLD OF WARCRAFT..... the first in the series of great lore and books. ))Loheluon26 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 The Cult of El Pollo Diablo calls! Do you hear that? Do you hear the call of the foul fowl of fel? Do you see his glory which blots out the Sun and stars? Listen. El Pollo Diablo calls. He calls you to the guild that he has shed his bountiful blessings upon. Aeturnas Trinitas was once a guild ruled by the order of a so called holy hand. Ruled by Blood Elves and their mindless lust for power. Now, they have all fallen. Only the Prophets of the true way stand. The Prophets of El Pollo Diablo. We hear his call. We hear the coming Legion. We welcome our Legion masters. With their awe-inspiring ingress into our world on the near horizon, we must make ourselves ready. We are looking for those who wish to join us in this upcoming miraculous milestone. Come and visit us at www.aeturnastrinitas.com for more details or whisper our Shadow Council in game. Remember, great vision without great people is irrelevant.Chronotis22 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 [RP] The Elephant in the Room ((Happy RP Day!!! So this is the first actual story I'm posting. I've had a couple of unfinished ones for Zavee, but lost all motivation to write for her when I stopped playing her. I'm not a good writer by any means, so much thanks goes to Pachy for helping me. And in case it's not obvious, this takes place before the fall of the Lich King. Enjoy!)) * * * * * Vastra wrapped a blanket around her shoulders before sitting with the others to finalize the attacks in the morning. “Aye, this would be the smartest idea you’ve had yet, lass!” A young elf looked to the dwarf with concern. “I think you should probably stop drinking your ale if you want to be able to fight in the morning. Besides, this is an incredibly dangerous mission and I think-“ “NONSENSE!” the human warrior stood up, slamming his fists on the crate, “We’ve handled worse than this. With our leadership, I have no doubts.” The dwarf raised his glass, spilling some of his ale on the map. “AYE! What say you, Vastra?” Vastra looked over at the party, tightening the warm blanket around her. “Yes, ve have to attack. Zere is no other vay.” She approached them, pointing at the southwest corner of the structure on the map. “Ve attack zee Military Quarter. It vill be difficult, ve may not make it out, but if ve win, zen zey are at a khuge disadvantage.” The warrior nodded. “Yes. And it’s one step closer to the Lich King.” “I suppose you’re right, Vastra.” The elf sighed, looking toward the fire. “If we have any chance of winning this fight, we do need rest.” “Yes, ve do. Ve have a long night akhead of us.” Vastra stepped out of the tent to take one more look at the night sky. My darling Jireth, for your sake, I hope I make it out alive. * * * * * There were sounds of swords clashing, screams of agony. Vastra and her group made their way into the heart of the Military Quarter in Naxxramas. They entered an armory room. Vastra held the front, the elven priestess not far behind, while the two warriors brought up the rear. A door opened to the left, the group darted fast behind a sword rack to hide. A group of three death knights emerged and began patrolling out of the hall. “Do ya think we can take ‘em?” The dwarf said with a little chuckle. “Zis is not a problem. Ve take the smaller ones out first, and zen zee big one.” Vastra looked to the elf, “Try and distract khim so zey can kill zee other two.” The priestess nodded. The dwarf, trying to move between the warrior and priest, bumped into the pommel of a blade on the rack. It fell, the clatter breaking the silence like a gunshot. The three death knights turned to them, their glowing blue eyes piercing the dim chamber. “Are you insane, or still drunk?!” The warrior hissed. “It was an’ accident, I swear!” “It iz too late now, ve need to fight!” Vastra stood, pulling her blade from its sheath. The chamber sprung to life with the roar of battle, the walls flaring up in a swirling dance of light and dark, as spells and steel fought for dominance. With the numbers on their side, it was only a moment or two before the first two death knights fell. With the elf at her back, Vastra raised her sword ready to strike. The remaining knight turned, their blades clashed. Vastra froze. Her eyes widened. “No, no it cannot be.” The knight kicked her in the stomach, launching her to the far chamber wall with a clattering thud. Vastra’s allies thundered forward to engage. “NO, DO NOT KILL KHIM.” “Lass, yer crazy!” the dwarf cried, not taking his eyes off the death knight, “We needn’t keep ‘im alive!” Vastra pulled herself from the floor, clutching her stomach. “PRIESTESS, SUBDUE KHIM.” She looked to the warriors, “If vun of you touches khim, I vill kill you myself.” The Death Knight roared and began to charge at Vastra, who continued to stare with pleading eyes at the priestess. The dwarf looked helplessly towards Vastra. “What are ya doin’ lass?! FIGHT!” The priestess could wait no longer. With a wave of her hand a flash of holy Light began to swirl around the knight until it was as though he was frozen in place. Vastra dropped her blade as she approached the death knight, her eyes not leaving his. The others looked on in bewilderment. “I don’t know what you’re doing,” the warrior urged, “but this is costing us time. We need to go NOW.” “Ve are taking khim with us.” “Get it over with and kill him!” “I vill not.” Vastra placed a gentle hand on the knight’s unmoving face. “Zis is my khusband.”Vastra8 May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 Looking for guild that's WPvP centric. Hi, I'd been rather bored in game of late (haven't we all from time to time) so I was doing some research into realms that are WPvP centric and ED keeps popping up in conversations so I thought I'd roll a new toon (hunter) and give it a try. I'm open to joining either faction (or both) so long as the fun factor is there. I'm a mature player that's been around since beginning of LK and mostly played PvE servers of which I have several level 100 toons (both factions). Done my share of raiding, but light on PvP and I don't have any RP experience and probably wouldn't get into it in any great depth, but I respect the RP community and those who are trying to make their own fun. I respect other players regardless of faction and like to play that way, even PvP. I'm looking for a mature and active guild, active meaning anyone who wants to be involved will be given the opportunity. If anyone thinks I might make a good match with their guild please let me know. Thanks so much.Gronnsbane52 May 29, 2016
May 28, 2016 Parry Kill Tuck A simple game to relieve stress Look at the 3 posters above and chose one of these for each. The first 2 posts just do it for the people above and bellow you. Would you let them parry your attack Would you kill them Would you tuck them under the sheets and tell them a story before they fall sleep.Plagueghoul3 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 [RP] Unsigned Letter A discarded letter lies on a table in the Blue Recluse. It is obvious many have handled it. The paper is littered with creases as if someone had crumpled it up and flattened it multiple times. You pick the letter up and it reads. Dear Angel of Tanaan I have a story to tell you, one that has brought me to the edge of insanity and back. I could begin in Stormwind, where we had brief words about heretics next to the Mage Tower. But, I think I will begin in the thick brush of Draenor. You may not recall, but we crossed paths in Tanaan not to long ago. I was outnumbered and trying to hold my own. It was a losing battle until you dropped down at my side, staff in hand, with a readied stance. Immediately, I was graced with an angelic presence, it lifted my spirit and filled me with hope. Oddly, I hesitated, I didn’t leap in like I usually do. I just stood there, caught off guard by your entrance and grace. I would have gazed all day if it wasn’t for that Orc’s charge. It snapped me back from a dreamlike state and we engaged the enemy. You and I, we danced throughout the woods of Tanaan that afternoon, weaving in and out of trees, dodging arrows and axes until we reached Lion’s Watch, unscathed. Then in the blink of an eye, you were gone. For days I thought you were a nameless angel sent to ensure it wasn’t my time. I wasn't to die in the fellish wilds of Tanaan. Yet, that feeling sat with me, your graceful presence. After that day, I often returned to Lion’s Watch at the off chance I would find you; all I found was disappointment. Two weeks after our dance, I was fishing along the shores of Stormshield when I felt it. That ambiance of peace which initially sent me flying to the dirt. I dropped everything and spun around, scanning the crowd, questioning myself, “was she real?” It was your blonde hair which caught my eye but it was your staff that reaffirmed your existence. It was you! I bolted up the path, keeping you in sight, jumping tables and gnomes but I was too late. I reached the top the hill only to see you take to the skies. I stood there defeated, watching you fade away. Then, to my surprise, the Flightmaster leaned over and whispered, “Her name is...” I leaned in and he paused… his face went white as his eyes sunk, he stared -through- me with a look of disbelief. He turned to run as a shadowy hand pulled him back into a deathly blow. It was a Horde assault. After a quick response and a grueling battle, we dispatched of the mob. I walked to his corpse and looked down, he was gone and with him, her name. I ask myself, why did I write this? A letter to someone whose name I don't know. Perhaps I will just hang on to it. Perhaps you will enter this gloomy bar. None the less, it feels better to write it down; my search will go on. (( It's been a couple years since I wrote any kinda of RP. With the lull in content, I can't think of a better time to dust off the imagination and terrible grammar. :P Hope you enjoy. ))River9 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 [RP] Snow Where to Go The frigid winds of of Alterac wrapped us in an icy blanket, yet our Rams trudged along. Couldn't have been too long since we left Refuge Point on patrol yet somehow… Everything felt slow. It was as if Azeroth was unmoving, the coarse and frozen land a testament to this thought. Truth be told though, it wasn't the worst I've felt… I couldn't shake the feeling that my mind kept trying to draw me back to- “Oi, Boss, we stopping here?” That oaf Tyrrim always did have a knack for ruining my train of thought. “Blizzard on the rise, we'd best stop here till it passes over.” I swung over the side of my ram falling to one knee in the snow, damn beasts aren't quite fit for anyone over five feet. “ And what did I say about calling me Boss? We're different now remember?” “Right, sorry Boss.” He paused for a second as if his stupidity finally caught up to him. Can't complain though… Never brought him along because of his brains. Before us stood a long ruined tower. We circled round to the front and stopped short. The snow was red. We drew our blades and entered the tower slowly, using only hand signs to indicate movement. Before us lay a crumpled figure, curled up on the ground next to an intricate azure dagger. Steam rose from his blood drenched mass of white hair, as his bare and coarse feet gave out that gross musk of manure filled toe jam. At least we didn't have to deal with that awful smell of death so much, seeing as it's intestines had been ripped out and cast to the snow outside… This troll couldn't have been dead for long. “Gut wound.” Tyrrim spoke aloud, breaking our code of silence. I moved closer to examine the front of the body. Bloodied tabard of the argent crusade? Check. Purple Scar below the right eye? Check. A silver engraved ring on the left tusk? Check. my mind raced back to a time I once tried to forget.. “Zall’jud… Merchant.” I kneeled and stared at his scar for a moment, I remembered it well, came from scourge cannon shrapnel back in Northrend. Read the expression of his face. Lips pursed, jaw locked… He didn't even scream. Why? Both of his eyes were fixated on something behind me. Turned just in time to see a figure dash out of the shadows to the exit. Tyrrim dropped his right blade and grabbed the child by the arm raising and twisting it slightly as to persuade the kid from going further. “Don’t be killin me Mon, yah dun take ma Da away already!” My heart stood still…. This snot nosed brat watched as his father was murdered. Just like- “Easy there kid we didn't kill nobody.” Tyrrim tried to reason with the him but the child continued to cry and kick away against the Warriors hard and heavy armor. “Zall’jud wares be all good.” I had to say something. That was his catchphrase, he used it all those years ago back when I fought alongside the argents and never once changed it. The kid stopped crying for only a moment and looked back down at the body of Zall.” Ma Da, he tol me ta play sneak in da box when da bad mon come.” Scooped up the dagger by the blade and tossed it to Tyrrim. We would have Hargus take a look at it sometime. Perhaps there could be a reward for whoever gutted the merchant. I picked up Zall’s body in both arms and took him outside. He was a lot lighter than I thought… Never would have guessed that with all the rations he always managed to stockpile. I moved towards a mound of icy mud and set his body down. “Tyrrim, bring the Rams inside, storm's getting close.” I withdrew a small amount of cinderbloom oil along with some flint and a torch. The kid was now sitting by his dad. I sat next to him and stared at the body. He pulled a gold circlet off his wrist and placed it on Zall’s chest. He also took the small silver ring from the merchants tusk and placed it on his own. “He was a good man. Never let a crusader go hungry. Never complained when we had to move… and I never got to thank him.” I coated Zall with just enough oil to get the job done and lighted the torch. The child looked away at first… But then I set a cold and heavy gauntlet against his shoulder. “I can protect you until hearthglen… But you must lay your mind to rest” I extended the torch just so the child could hold the bottom of it. Together we set Zall’s body aflame and retreated back to the tower. As the night drew on my mind drifted farther and farther back along the coast of my memory. I had to keep talking to the kid, Tyrrim, the Rams, hell, anything. My stomach turned, I didn't want to think back. “How did you no Da?” The kid finally asked it, and I knew it was coming. “Zul’drak, that was where I met your father kid… And lost mine.”Destrey8 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 Zhii's origins ((Happy RP day!)) ((Thought I would post this here, the full back story to my character Zhii for RP day. I was going to write a new story but sadly I work all day. Heads up this is REALLY long, hope you enjoy :3)) On a still December night within a villag in Pandaria, family and friends came together to witness the birth of a new born Pandaren cub who would be named, Zhii. Zhii was born into an already large Pandaren family, the Fang's, that stretched from the Krasarang, to all over Pandaria, and even some relatives living on the wandering isle Shen-zin Su. The Fangs were best known for their jolly and compassionate demeanor followed by a large appetite and love of cooking. The family Zhii was born into in particular were settled on a fishing village just south east to the temple of the red crane. At a young age, Zhii spent most of his time care free, playing amongst the waves with his older brother followed by four younger ones, three younger sisters, all very much close with each other learning and growing as so many other cubs his age did. Inspired by tales of his grandfather, Zhii pursued an interest in the lifestyle of the Monks. The young cub however was faced with many difficulties in his decision to become a monk, as he lacked much discipline and showed a general lazy attitude when it came to training and lessons. It would be a long four year trial until Zhii would later become accepted as a student in his early teenage years. On occasion in between is studies and training, Zhii found himself traveling Pandaria seeing all the wonderful sites that his home had to offer. On one such journey, Zhii came into contact with the Lorewalkers and was fascinated by the knowledge and recorded history that they had archived from generation to generation. Zhii would spend a good deal of time with them and offered his hand in their expeditions to uncover ancient secrets across the land. Eventually the Pandaren would become an honored member amongst their ranks and would return home years later to continue his training. Tragedy would unfortunately soon follow Zhii's return as a band of rampaging Saurok known as the Riverblade tribe would lay siege to the unprotected Pandaren of the jungle. Word of these unusual attacks would soon reach the ears of the Shado-pan and help would arrive to defend. Eventually the Sauroks forces were decimated and fled back into the far reaches of the wilds, however not before claiming the lives of many. This event devastated young, overly friendly and sensitive Zhii being his first time exposed to the horrors of warfare. The helplessness he felt for the injured on that day would cause the novice Monk to branch out into a more holistic style and would continue his path into a specialization of healing Monks known as Mistweavers. In his early adult-hood he found a unique use for what he was leaning during his studies at the temple and made a living by mixing in the healing effects of his chi, with massage techniques to heal and balance the bodies and minds of those he would touch. His parents expressed some disapproval of his self made profession and would try to push him to become a cook just like so many others in his family before him. At his parents request, Zhii spent a great deal of time at Half-hill village, leaning the many different ways of Pandaren food preparation. He then ran into a slight problem, Zhii would find greater pleasure in eating the food than making it. He was rejected from multiple masters for various reasons related to this, one such was that the hungry Pandaren was found eating in the kitchen before being able to serve the guests at a restaurant he worked for. Fearing he would dishonor his family should he return home, the Pandaren made a lonely trek to the Jade forest where he would take up a short residence within Paw'don village. One day however his life would be turned completely upside down as he walked to a meditation spot he favored within the thick Bamboo forest where he found what at first he thought was a hairless Hozen. A young Human who was found ship wrecked and badly injured. Zhii took it upon himself to take him back and tend to the man's wounds, only to find even more of these strange outsiders had arrivedZhii4 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 (RP) A Familiar Presence? Mairaila begins her journal entry: My days grow shorter as my tenure as a soldier in the fight in Draenor grows to an end. With the banishing of Gul'dan and the disbursement of Alliance forces to other campaigns my need to be here is felt as unnecessary. However I have had an uneasy feeling of a presence I have not felt in a long while. It's is a familiar presence, one that not only exudes fear but also pain and remorse. Yes, I must investigate this presence. But where to begin and whom do I turn to for information? So many things to venture into with no time table involved. I have seen so much horror and triumph in my life, what will this lead me into? I have lost so much...I have lost so much. Mairaila gathers her belongings and motions for her trusted Frostsaber friend Aeryn to follow and sets out to investigate the presence she feels.Mairaila5 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 [RP-Day Story] Eyes Like Sapphires ((So I've never really written up a story that goes into full detail on Ty's past. This is a story from when he was first raised.)) He hadn't slept yet, why couldn't he sleep? It's been months now, not even feeling tired, no exhaustion. This feeling of... Coldness? Somewhat, he couldn't explain it. He tried to think, to remember, to even understand. This only caused moderate pain as he struggled to think. He would always get snippits of memories, they'd come and go. A year ago he was running through the streets of Silvermoon, killing every man, woman, and child he had encountered. Before that, he was raised as a Death Knight just outside of Zul'Aman, and before that he couldn't even tell you. The large conglomerated army he marched with was heading back to Icecrown, he had proven with their victory over the Elves that he showed much promise. He had been chosen for a reason, but he had no idea what. Suddenly it came to him, another painful memory. He gripped at his head as it came to him, the smell of the cold Winterspring air. A calm gentle snow flurry caressing his face, and his hair flowing with the wind. He was a boy it appeared. Blinking his eyes he realized it was dream, no he was not a boy, he was a freshly sewn construct. Looking down at his hands he grimaced... Could he grimace? The man shook his head as he tried to gather his composure. The army was in Icecrown, he was in one of the halls that lead to the training chambers for freshly raised recruits. Arthas kept him busy often, and Lady Deathwhisper would visit as well just to make sure the knight was obedient. How could he not be? What other life did he have? All he's ever known was this one... Hours, days, weeks, months would pass. Arthas would task me to traverse the world and find new people and places to corrupt. Learning from each inhabited area what they're like, and then teach them what the will of the Lich King was. Yet one day it seemed was different, he was flying South from Northrend to the continent of Kalimdor, He looked down as he was approaching his next destination, Winterspring. The region looked, and felt familiar. A sharp pain was resonating through his head, but he paid it no heed. This... What was this place? What did it mean to him? He trekked until he came to some ruins, Elven in their design. He dropped to his knees once he hopped off the skeletal gryphon, this place... It called to him, was this place meaningful to him? He closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again. It was once a beautiful town, one of a handful in the region. This dream, he finally was able to piece it together... He was born here in Winterspring. His family was prominent, father was a hunter and his mother was a sorceress. Large and well connected, until the day came when they were exiled. He was too young to know the full details it seemed, but they were leaving onto a boat? That explains why he was risen in Quel'Thalas. The knight slowly opened his eyes and stood. Now he knew what he had to do, he would find his identity if only to give him some sense of meaning in the world. He could do perform his duties to Arthas and have a hobby on the side right? But perhaps it would be better to keep it a secret. After all, the dead did not have names, only ranks. As he left, he found himself smiling as he walked over to a small pond that was not frozen over. He looked into it and saw his reflection for the first time. He was a tall Quel'Dorei, restructured and put together to be buff and intimidating. His hair was everywhere, and his eyes... He closed them again for a moment and sounded something out. "Tah... Tai... Ty.." He struggled, he was trying to remember it. "Tylis..." Suddenly a loud voice from within the memory called out, "Come Tylissius! We're leaving!" He opened his eyes again and peered into the waters. His eyes shining a bright blue like his father's and mother's. He was Tylissius, and he was determined to remember who he was. ((Fin, for now))Tylissius7 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 [RP] Inquisitor's Hunt (This story is the first one that I’m writing to introduce and flesh out my new character, Inquisitor Merellia. I might end up writing more parts for this. Maybe.) Merellia stared out at the fortress-town of Wintergarde, gripping her mace tightly as she eyed the vast expanse of land that laid before the city, sometimes dotted by a small farm or cluster of rocks, but otherwise left mostly empty. She let out a sigh and rubbed her face, feeling a slight headache coming on. Chasing her quarry would have to wait until tomorrow. She’d arrived at Wintergarde a few hours before, taking note of how large the city was, for being so close to the frigid wastes. In the years since the Northrend wars the settlement had been rebuilt and grown, and was probably the northernmost safe city on the continent aside from the strange Dalaran, the mage-city that floated above the otherworldly forest of crystals. She had come here eager to fulfill her duty to the Church and hunt down whatever heretic had dared to kill priests and priestesses of the Holy Light. The news had come by portal to the Cathedral of Light in Stormwind, an urgent missive from the head priest of Wintergarde’s church. A week ago, a priest had gone missing, and his body was found a few days later, his body mutilated and burned. Perhaps a strange incident, but nothing of immediate worry… until two priestesses had been murdered in cold blood while on their way out to heal one of the more elderly denizens of the outlying farms. Lord Shadowbreaker had asked for her personally within about fifteen minutes. “Avoid straying too close to old habits," he had said. “But you may use whatever methods necessary. I trust you, Merellia.” Hmph. As if she needed his permission. The Light’s servants would be avenged. The Light’s will would be enacted, whether Shadowbreaker was on board with it or not. The head priest had requested a handful of paladins. Instead, he would receive a single inquisitor. Merellia was a former Scarlet Crusader, having fought the Scourge in Lordaeron for over ten years. Ever since the fall of Capital City. Ever since the betrayal of the Prince. As Lordaeron fell apart, so had everything she’d ever known. It was then, despite all the fearful and desperate times, that she found her faith. She joined the Crusade first as a priestess, little more than a mender for the brave soldiers that went out to try and stem the endless tide of undeath. She saw fewer and fewer soldiers come back each day, until the Crusade was forced onto the defensive, maintaining their ever-dwindling holdings across Lordaeron. The day that she saw the burning city of Stratholme, her former home, was the day that she truly became an inquisitor. No longer would she sit idly by and wait to mend the troops. She would enact justice. She took up two maces from crusaders who had fallen in battle against the undead legions, and pledged them to the Light’s will.Gielnorian12 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 [RP Day] The Future's So Bright (AU) Zeke Sarkell -- mage and current head of Criminal Investigations -- turned in the seat of a wagon carrying confiscated crates of a highly illegal substance called "Fidjit's Funk". He was riding next to Yrek, who guided the first wagon. Zeke surveyed the other two wagons behind him. The bust had been surprisingly easy. They had spent at least an hour, pouring over the wagons and their contents looking for bombs and finding none. The drovers had put up no fight other than cursing, prior to the verification that they were, indeed, transporting contraband. Then, the Stormwind City Guard officers spent their entire journey jumping at shadows, convinced that an retaliation from the Funk-runners was coming at any moment. But as the wagons turned off the main road from Goldshire, and headed towards the front gate of the Garrison, Zeke finally allowed himself a sigh of relief. They had made it. This time with more evidence than ever before. Zeke figured one of two things was going to happen: either they were going to find evidence linking the Funk to someone they could prosecute and punish; or they would make transporting the crap so expensive that whomever was behind it would decide that Allied territories were not worth it. He turned back around and saw that several Garrison personnel had come out to welcome them, lining the entry into the gates. The Captain and Leslie were even out there. Zeke told Yrek to keep moving as he hopped down from the slow-rolling wagon and went to greet them. Captain Landreth eyed him, looking impressed. "Another bust, and well done, Sergeant. Keep this up and you'll be a Lieutenant." Then, the gray-haired paladin paused scowling as the wagon that Grathier was driving started to pull up. He turned his attention back to Zeke, "See me in my office about this when you have a moment." "Yes, sir," replied Zeke. He hadn't even had to pretend to be excited at the prospect of becoming a Lieutenant. The Captain turned on his heel, walking alongside the first wagon as it began to pass through the gates. "Good job, everyone!" called the Captain to no one in particular. Leslie folded her arms and regarded Zeke with one of her characteristic, lopsided grins. "Oooo, Looootenant Sarkell! Good thing you've finally started doing something use---" Her words were drowned out in a thunderous roar as a crate on the wagon passing beside her exploded in a deadly blossom of splintered wood and broken glass, obliterating the clerk's head with it. The other, almost simultaneous blasts knocked the headless corpse onto the low wall, glass shrapnel shredding it until it looked like a grisly ragdoll. Without a thought, Zeke's magical shields had come up causing most of the blast and debris to divert away, but the force still sent him flying. He felt the heavy thuds as the gateway itself collapsed, bringing the whole front face of the Garrison down. The roar of the explosion had died down to a single, high-pitched note, while everything else became eerily silent. Zeke tried to stand, but immediately fell over again, and settled for crawling back to the wall. He pulled himself up and gazed with horror at the carnage. There was little discerning between corpses, equine or human, at that point. They were jumbled masses of blood and bone, mixed equally with the wreckage of the wagons. Mind shocked into numbness, Zeke thought he was yelling for help, but could hear no sound. He started trying to move down the wall and fell again. This time he saw why: his left leg was missing from the knee down and pumping blood. His vision grew misty. The ringing in his ears turned into a voice. "Sergeant Sarkell?" He tried to open his eyes, but they were already open. "Sergeant?" Stark white blurriness and a hiss. "Are you okay?" He felt a touch on his shoulder. Suddenly, the space he was in resolved into the common washroom at the Garrison. He was standing in the white-tiled shower area, water pelting him in the face. George Whitney, one of the Garrison officers, was looking at him with concern. Zeke blinked. "What?" George looked at him. "I was telling you how my youngest, Elly, was going to start school in Stormwind this year, and you just... I don't know.... You went all quiet. When I looked over at you, you were just frozen in place with this...expression. Kinda spooked me, to be honest." Zeke rubbed his hand over his face, wiping away the water. "Sorry George. I'm fine. Fine." The other officer's look of concern only deepened when Zeke left the showers in a hurry, failing to turn off the water. Sarkell went to the locker area and began to frantically pull on his clothes without even attempting to dry himself. I can't let this happen. But even as he thought it, he realized that he had no way of knowing how to stop it.Landrêth6 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 [RP] Like A Bull (( happy RP day folks. :^) wrote a bit of a story for Tov, there's probably mistakes in there idk )) The constant chatter of the trio of the sin'dorei never ceased to mildly irritate the young, stoic tauren. As she had stepped off of the broken stone pathway her employers walked on, her hooves sank into the wet ground beneath her. An escort through a marsh of all places? It seemed as if all the magic the elven race had been hoarding finally had gotten to their head. Her warm, honey hued gaze acutely watched her surroundings, brows furrowing every now and then as a husky tail of a crocolisk slipped into the murky waters not too far away from her. Although she was paying attention to her surroundings, she did her best to ignore the high pitched tone of the tiny elves she had to protect. Idly resting a large hand over one of her well balanced axes, Tovero then allowed her guard to slip down to a relatively low state. If some sort of animal were to approach the group, a good kick could scare it away. With her ears slowly lowering, a low sigh left her lips. Besides the occasional shake of her head to throw the annoying bugs off of her, she allowed her movements to become lax. Glancing down towards the thinly built elves in front of her, she then snorted half-amusedly at their body stature. How could something built like a hare manage to survive in a place like this? A snicker emitted from her as she began to become lost in her thoughts, ignoring the halted elves in front of her. As a scream tore through the air, she raised her head, her sharp gaze boring into an equally wild one: it belonged to a Grimtotem. A band of bulls blocked their path, the largest one that had stepped forward raised an axe with a menacing look in his eyes. Recklessly, the young tauren charged forward, the bulk of her large figure knocking an elf to the side as she was struck with the blunt end of the axe. As well built as she was, the hit knocked the breath out of her lungs and sent her crashing to the ground with an audible thump. Dazed, the mercenary gave an attempt to lift herself up from the ground only to receive a harsh kick to the gut. Crying out, she then fell back to the ground, head bowed as she attempted to recover and compose herself. Abruptly, one of her horns was yanked and her head was lifted. The other two attackers had went after the elves, and surprisingly, the lanky trio of magic wielders seemed to be holding their weight well. The hot air that the Grimtotem had snorted straight into her face ripped her out of her daze. A chuckle left the bull as he looked down at the poor excuse for a tauren in front of him. Shaking her head to loosen his grip on her horn, she recoiled momentarily, long enough to drive her skull straight into his. With her horns curving inward at the tips, she disoriented him with such an action. Reaching for her axe, she hastily drew it, swinging it down onto the neck of the man in front of her. A sickening snap was heard as the steel bit into the flesh and bone of her attacker, but it didn't sway her from quickly scrambling to her hooves. For a split second, a sense of panic fought its way into her eyes. With one of the warriors advancing onto a lone elf, she inhaled sharply, doing her best to pull the axe out of the flesh it sank into. With no luck, she gripped the second axe at her hip, her arm pulling back as she stared forward. As her arm whipped forward, she let go of the axe, ears twitching at the sound of the weapon sailing through the air. The weapon hit its mark and she watched the Grimtotem fall to his knees, body quivering as the steel ripped into his spine. Normally, Tovero would take a few moments to admire her handiwork, but now wasn't the time, especially with the last attacker barreling towards her at full speed. With a panicked sense of haste, she gripped the lodged axe with both of her hands as she managed to pull it out of the dead bull. Shifting it to her main hand, she then swung at the oncoming warrior, slashing a good portion of his chest. It took a second too long for her to realize that couldn't stop the fury of the Grimtotem, though. As she was knocked into, she dropped the axe from her hand, hooves digging into the ground as she pushed back against him.Tovero6 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 [RP] Day Today!! Slams palms on table Okay listen up kids and I guess not kids. It's about time for another [RP] Day! Suggested Prompt (Not required at ALL!): Your character's worst interaction with their enemies. Be it Horde, Alliance, the Legion, the Scourge, a couple of dudes with water guns, whatever. Write a story about your character's worst interactions with those that want to hurt them all badly and stuff. What is [RP] Day exactly? [RP] Day is a day where we as a community post as many [RP] stories, poems, machinimas, music, and whatever else as possible, so long as it relates to [RP]. That's pretty neat I guess. What's the point? The point is to just share tons of user created stories and media with one another, as a community. Emerald Dream is renown for being a really strong community, but with the WoD and end of xpac blues, well, people are struggling to get enjoyment out of the game and it's world. That's where YOU come in, kid. You post a story about your character, and cool as heck friends read your story and tell you what they think and liked. This not only creates general interaction among everyone, but it's doing so with something our server always needs more of, and that's [RP]. We all love it, and I doubt most of us can get enough of it. Oh okay, well heck ain't that swell. When is [RP] Day? We're lookin' at May 27th. Give everyone a week to write, script, create, or whatever they gotta do to produce what they wanna produce. Note from me to all ya'll, Write anything. I'm serious, write anything. Your [RP] is great. If you enjoy it, and you aren't like, hurting people with it, then do it. Share it. Everyone wants to read it, interact with it. We on ED love RP, we do, and the more there is. the more we'll drown out the boring PvP arguments and drama and whatever else. The most successful this event can be usually leads to the first two pages of the forums being coated in nothing but [RP] stories. It's happened plenty of times already. It's a community effort however, and we need as many people involved as we can possibly get to really shine like we can. If you want to quietly write and post, that's completely fine. But if you can spread the word, link this post anywhere you can, tell your friends and get them all involved, well, that's golden. That's going above and beyond, and it's only benefiting the forum event, and the server itself. So spread the word, go to Twitter, any message boards like Facebook and what have you, and tell people. We all want [RP], let's encourage it as much as possible. May 27th. Write anything, do anything, just tell a story.Taelyren32 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 [RP] Preparations *It was another dark night in Silverpine forest. The smell of rotted flesh filled the air with the dead silence only broken by the screeching of the crows. In the distance was the dilapidated fortress of Fenris Isle which now had two new banners outside the gates. The banners were black with the symbol of a red torch* *Samsion walked into the keep towards the meeting room to kneel in prayer* Oh, merciful and holy Light! I now understand the vision I received. When I was lost astray in the darkness you lit my path for me to see. Everything is coming together now for this Vigil. I pray for you to grant me the strength and tenacity to carry through with this righteous task you have bestowed upon me fo.... *Malghoul walked into the meeting room, interrupting the prayer* Grand Master... *Samsion lets out a drawn-out sigh before responding* Yes, Malghoul. What is so important that you interrupt my prayer? Apologies Grand Master but I wished to inform you that new potential recruits are on their way to Refugee Pointe for transportation to this Isle. Well, that is good news. I assume we have someone awaiting their arrival then? Yes, Grand Master. Good. Make preparations and inform the other members of our Council. I will be ready to greet them on arrival. *Malghoul nods his head and begins to take his leave* Malghoul... Yes, Grand Master? I want to know where the others stand on our ideals. Speak with them and learn more of their character. If you find one lacking in good intention or faltering in faith then you will inform me. Understood, Grand Master... For this Vigil to stand and my vision realized then those who follow must share our ideals and faith. I have great ambitions for the future of this order and the reclamation of Lordaeron. *Samsion walks to the table and picks up a scroll to examine it* Ah, yes. Inform Kynradora I have need of her. We must make further preparations for our meeting with ''The Pride of Lothar''. They are another order of some sort who shares common goals in Lordaeron. *Samsion pauses* If the Light wills it so, we can make use of them through mutual treaty. You are now dismissed, Malghoul. *Malghoul leaves the keep while Samsion kneels to finish his prayer*Samsion4 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 Transfering to ED, LF PVP Guild Moving to Emerald Dream and looking for a friendly casual pvp guild to join. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.Nosfuratwo262 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 Who killed Kag? ... Post your Screenshots here. I didn't take a screenshot but the first time i met kag in game i killed him and he just stared at me while it happened.ßullseye29 May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 Migrant² ERPer a selfish tease/fast finisher ((The off server ERPer Naydran just gets his rocks off with minimal reciprocation and leaves with no consideration of his ERP partner's pleasure, even going so far as to lobby insulting parting shots as he laces up his pantaloons on the way out. I suspect this is rooted in most of his ERPing experience being a solo adventure between his Elf character and a dominating sexual alter ego he calls Maekur. Well there are other people involved now, Naydran! The show doesn't end with the shamefully brief limits of your stamina. If you don't learn the importance of nurturing a partner's needs you'll be forever stuck pretending Maekur is doing it with your Elf like a horny narrator with two imaginary dolls.)) Edit: ZendMareike21 May 28, 2016