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  1. 9 points
    HAYTHAM KENDRICK OF BORALUS ♫ Name: Haytham Francis Kendrick Occupation: Governor of Port Drustgarde, Entrepreneur, Captain (former) Birthplace: Boralus, Kul Tiras Age: Thirty Residence: Drustgarde Marital Status: Divorced Background Born as the eldest son to Francis and Caroline, who led a prominent merchant family of Kul Tiras, the Kendrick family. Ever since Haytham was but a young boy, he always dreamt about commandeering his own ship and serving his country proudly. This vision was however, one which brought great dismay to his father who had envisioned another path for him. He spent his childhood fascinated about the navy, always asking questions and seeking knowledge wherever he could find it to the point where some considered him to be annoying. As he grew up, he watched his father manage the company while he even had an insight into his father’s plans where he learned of his father’s underhand tactics in becoming rich. Disgusted with his father’s unlawful use of methods, Haytham enlisted in the navy of Kul Tiras despite his father’s wishes. This resulted in him earning the ire of his father which would play a course later on in his life. The now estranged scion of the Kendrick family found himself serving in the navy as he always wanted. His ambition and passion to serve had led him to rise quickly amongst the ranks of the navy. Some questioned his rapid ascension, yet others who’ve served alongside him call it a testament to his skill in leadership. It is here where Haytham had met Meredith Meadow Thistleton who he grew to become fast friends with and later even marry despite their families’ ever building rivalry. This only caused further disappointment within the eyes of Haytham’s father who at this point considered his firstborn to be a lost cause and decided to groom Haytham’s twin - Harper to inherit the company instead. Haytham continued to serve in the navy as a Captain, remaining in frequent contact with his twin sister and mother back at home through letters. The newly wed couple had been eventually separated for reasons unknown to others. Some say that Meredith herself had tried to sway Haytham into choosing her over his family and he had chosen the latter. Others say that the pair argued over matters unknown and this led to their separation. No one knows for sure but the pair themselves. Haytham continued his duties sternly and appeared quite unhindered emotionally to the public yet when he found himself in the privacy of his cabin he wept silently. To keep the separation out of his mind he turned to write letters to his twin sister and mother for comfort. Shortly after, news of the disappearance of his parents had eventually reached Haytham’s ears and this only added to his already emotional boat ride. In his now devastated mood he was visited by his younger brother August who managed to convince the once proud man that his parent’s disappearance was no mystery. He claimed that they had disappeared because the Kingdom’s elite had somehow discovered his father’s shadier operations and intended to rid them in one quick stroke. This would be done without any possible suspicions on the basis of a storm being used as a cover up as the cause of their disappearance. A now vengeful Haytham swore he’d avenge his family by using any means necessary, the now satisfied August took this as an opportunity to make him resign from the navy and assume control of the family business himself. And so he did. Haytham had resigned from the navy and due to the amount of sway he held within it, several others followed him once he returned home - most notably his loyal swabs and crewmen. Upon his arrival home and reunion with his siblings, he had witnessed the damage that had impacted the company due to the sudden disappearance of their parents. After seeing how his twin sister had contained the chaos that had been wrought upon the family business in the wake of their predecessor’s disappearance, he made it known that she would share equal power alongside him in heading the company. Together and along with their siblings, they made a vow that they would restore their family business back into its rightful place in society by using any means necessary - even if it meant utilizing the methods of his father which he once despised as a child. A few years had passed. The family business remained as stable and prosperous as ever under the combined leadership of the Kendrick twins. A need for adventure had arisen within the man now edging towards his thirties, and when rumours came to him about a group of Paladins wishing to explore the fate of the missing vessel his father had been on, Haytham was quick to provide them with monetary support. Not only did he fund them, he decided to leave the family business in his capable twin-sister’s hand only to directly set off with the group on their voyage with a few companions. Knowing that he had possibly been tricked by his younger brother, only fueled his desire to find his father and perhaps redeem himself. He had after all gone against his personal values to see his family remain afloat and strong in trade back home. Only time will tell whether he would find his father or return home empty handed. Or perhaps not return at all... Traits & Flaws Disciplined - His time in the navy has molded him into a man of discipline and can act apart in a controlled environment. Diligent - Years of hard work and commitment in pursuing his dreams have made him show care in his work. Dutiful - Haytham feels like he holds a sense of duty to his family and his family’s company thus giving up his dream occupation for it. Ambitious - Every man is a dreamer. Haytham however happens to dream bigger than the rest. Devious - Like father like son, Haytham does not shy away from using a more less-direct route to achieve his goals. Deceitful - Should it be necessary, Haytham would lie to get himself out of a sticky situation. A common trait running amongst the Kendrick family. Navigator - Through years of experience in the navy the man has adopted a new skill in navigating both on land and sea. Appearance Fair of hair with lightly tanned skin as befitting someone who hails from the Island Kingdom of Kul tiras. Haytham embodies and resembles his father more so than the rest of his brothers, with his viridescent coloured eyes representing his nationality and his masculine strong facial structure, symmetrical and square with a heavy brow, stout nose and a strong jaw line, with said face still bearing somewhat youthful looks. His visage in question shows little to none marks of combat, perhaps a show of caution. From these minor scars one would be able to tell that he is indeed no stranger to combat. An attractive man, one would say. Like his father and brothers, he stands somewhat around the six foot mark with an athletic build, one that resembles a soldier yet carries a soldier’s presence. He walks as one would expect a soldier would, stern and straight-backed - some may mistake this for uptightness. When spoken to, his voice would sound rather appealing and carry a sense of discipline with a slight hint of sophistication with it. A merit from his time spent in the navy.
  2. 9 points
    Name: Gratha Race: Orc Age: 28 Class: Shaman Affiliation: Dragonmaw Clan, Grom'goshar Although stunted in stature, Gratha possesses the semblance of a capable fighter with sturdy shoulders and a vigorous posture. Her thick black mane is decorated with a plethora of minuscule braids, and various clan-related trinkets. A pair of glowing amber eyes bring warmth to her grey features, that most often bear marks of battle in various forms. An outlandish tempest filled the air with unbearable pressure in the Twilight Highlands. A lone Shaman scaled down the mountains with what seemed like crawling pace, eyes directed to the slithering path ahead. The havoc that was slowing her down was wrought by those loyal to the Old Gods, and were now tearing land and skies apart. Howling of the wind and the unspoken threats of the blackened forest below deafened the Dragonmaw from everything else. It was the mistake she made, trusting to her hearing over other senses, and in a heartbeat she was off the cliff, followed by a trail of flames by her winged challenger. * I was falling, falling from a great height. Nothing would stop me and there was roaring black air all around me as I was plunging through it. I heard myself call out for the elements, a desperate shriek in the thick of the living storm. I woke with a violent lurch and laid winded against a cluster of rocks, torn fabric and sand was caught to my rough features. I had no memory of what happened. I scrabbled in my brain, but it was blank - an empty cavern, no echoes. Nothing. I tried to think of the last day I clearly remembered, but it was like looking into an impenetrable mist, with indistinct shapes looming. I possess the ability to call the elements to my aid, but as I laid here, I could feel nothing familiar surrounding me. Perhaps I had wronged the elements, demanded their aid to bring me here alive. The seawater was burning at my damaged body, prompting me to stop reminiscing and to focus on my survival, and to soothe the agitated elements. * Stranded, the scrawny Shaman began to make her way further away from the shore. Having never communicated with an ally other than a Dragonmaw, she had no faith in finding anything but hostility from where she now was. With that belligerent mindset, she ventured on. OOC: If anyone has found errors, please tell, my english is not the most fluent. Other feedback is also most welcome.
  3. 8 points
    ♫ Lost, but resolute Rain. The rain fell from the heavens in droves, threatening to overwhelm the solid wood galleon stoically sailing over an ocean whose waves rose and fell ceaselessly. Almost proudly, green sailors with a single golden anchor flapped defiantly in the face of a storm. Sailors tended to sails flapping erratically while others labored with buckets used to discard exorbitant amounts of water flooding the deck. At the helm, a Captain bellowed orders to his determined crew while civilians huddled in the bowels of the wind-torn vessel. Frightened murmurs spread throughout the crowded interiors, praying to the Light for salvation. Their passage was unknown. In the storm, bereft of a night sky for navigation and with navigational equipment malfunctioning, the vessel was sailing blind. “Land! I see land! By the Light, LOOK OUT!” Shouted a man in the crow’s nest who had desperately been looking for a way out of the storm. CRACK! A horrendous-sounding noise of wood splitting filled the air as the vessel made contact with solid ground. Civilians and sailors alike screamed in fear. Some were knocked overboard. Scraping the reef, the vessel was filling rapidly with water. At the order of the Captain, the adventurous Tirasians abandoned their vessel through rowboats or leaping overboard… moving towards what looked like land. Drustgarde is an expedition sent by the Church within Boralus, funded by burghers from the capital, and was tasked with discovering the cause of the disappearance of Tirasian ships in the South Seas. En route, they were met with a savage storm blowing them severely off course only to be shipwrecked in the Doldrums. Left with little choice, the expedition has decided to settle within the islands and become a beacon of civilization in a hostile land. Composed of three Paladins (Judges), burghers, and adventurers, the company hopes to found a colony of Kul Tiras. But, with no knowledge of how to return to Kul Tiras and being so distant from their homeland, there is no telling what cultural or social differences may emerge. AS A GUILD As a guild, we want to focus on civilian and settling roleplay focused within the colony. For example, the colony itself is set up to be a autocratic-theocracy underneath the rule of a ruling class of Paladins. However, the reality is that power must be shared among such a small group so it is likely more mediums of government will form in later days. It is with this hope that we create a sense of tension between burghers, theocrats, and perhaps even changing the outcome of the colony entirely. Change will come, and more conflicting social classes will form. Even the Paladins want to survive, so they will gladly work/compromise with their fellows to have the government shift as needed. Tl;dr: We are a guild with settler rp, conflict, and political themes. We’ll also have a big meeting at the start of the guild to determine the course we take in game. JUDGES Judge Barcelos, like most other expedition members, simply wants to survive. But this does not mean he will compromise the entirety of his moral code for the sake of survival. Although it is difficult, Barcelos still clings onto his education as a member of the clergy; he sees himself as a tool of the Light to bring harmony for those traumatized by the shipwreck. Judge Bregham Grimsley stands as the single most perilous member of the expedition. His position as judge is reviled by many and supported much the same. Impugned for his fanatical fervor and militancy, his modus operandi is one of brutal truths and uncompromising judgement. Perhaps in what ascribes Grimsley to the least holy of the illustrious judges, the grizzly warrior of Light wears etchings of Neptulon and other seafaring scriptures across his mangled skin, though his rugged character has certainly earned him the adoration of Drustgarde’s less privileged constituents as their trusted champion. HIERARCHY AND FAITH Appointed Leader (1/1) Appointed by the Church to head an expedition in search of lost Tirasian vessels, the leader occupies an executive position within the group and oversees operations. For the time being, the role falls to a Paladin aligned with the Judges via a shared order whose task is to ensure everything runs relatively smoothly. He the head of the group. His voice is final. For now, this autocrat works with his fellow Judges to retain order within the expedition. Council (2/2) An assembly of individuals representing the interests of the entire colony. They are the legislative body, underneath the Appointed Leader, and together meet bi-weekly to address the state of the colony. If a law must be changed, then the Council will adhere to the wishes of Drustgarde in order to amend said law underneath the guidance of Judges. However, regardless of their legislative powers, the Council isn't above the law nor possesses any true authority aside from that of assembly or lawmaking. Judges (2/2) Originally dispatched to solve disputes among the expedition, the judges now find themselves surrounded by uneasy civilians on the Doldrums. These judges draw authority from their use of the Light and their knowledge of Church doctrine on morality. The Judges do not legislate, they enforce. Colonists (11/X) Colonists are people who hail from all manner of backgrounds. They may have found their way on the voyage through various avenues. Perhaps the call of adventure or the need to escape from a life in favour of beginning anew amongst the promises offered to them by the Church. Every colonist must serve in the role of militia if the need is called. Levies will be raised, militiamen will be armed, and the role of protecting the colony will fall to the colonists when war takes place. However, there will be no standing army or military. RECRUITMENT To join the expedition, one can merely send a pm to Monteu or Scorpio on the forums, discord, or find us in-game. It is an Alliance guild, but has no race or class restrictions aside from Paladins. Later on, we might change these restrictions to accommodate neutrals etc. CHARTER OF LAW Drustgarde assembled together officially for the first time and agreed upon a representative council who along with the Appointed Leader decide upon the Code of Law to be maintained within the colony's borders. This code was to be in no way permanent with the council, to the people's wishes, possessing the ability to amend them underneath the oversight of Judges. Judges may render justice, immediately if needed, as they see fit using the law as recommendations as to how they might do such. Murder - Capital offense with execution as punishment. Judges may render punishment, or obtain justice, immediately if caught in the act or may procure justice in any fashion they may deem fit if murder has taken place. Stealing - Offenses will follow a three-strike method. On the first offense, a fine of something near in value to the stolen object must be paid. In addition to this there will be a number of lashings forced upon the lawbreaker. On the second offense, they will be imprisoned for a number of days and may be forced to endure a period of indentured servitude. Lastly, on the third offense, the lawbreaker will be executed through hanging, drowning, or beheading. All Judges may render judgement on a case-by-case basis on the severity of the offense. Rape - Punishable by death. Judges may exact justice on the spot, immediately, or at a point of their leisure. Desertion - Applies when at war and levies are raised. If desertion is because of low morale, floggings or imprisonment will occur. Should the deserter leave for malicious reasons, they may be executed after giving due attention to their case. Enforcement - Judges, as your spiritual guides and enforcers, are the only ones able to enforce law. They cannot draft laws, but they can enforce them as they see best befitting the situation. The Leader of the Colony, as a Judge, is exempt from the restriction of drafting law in accordance with the colony's wishes. Arson - On a case-by-case basis, judging on intent, Judges may exact justice as follows: if accidental, the burner will enter a period of indentured servitude to those he had wronged until whatever was damaged is repaired. If by deliberate, malicious action, then the punishment is death. For most nonviolent crime, they will follow a similar method of justice as stealing known as the three-strike method. ROSTER (17/x) Monteu Scorpio Dauble Horadin Ayleth TeegeeUK Lompocus Dalekfodder Jaime FatherHay BobbyWitDatTool Julie Cudn Robb Khor Antioch Kit This man is wanted by Drustgarde for the sale of illicit goods, smuggling, and laundering.
  4. 7 points
    This is a Quick & Easy guide for new players. For more in-depth information, please visit Server Information and read the guides listed there. My Character Look at your character sheet. Open up the RPG Handbook and there you have it. You can also type: .rpg csheet to get a more detailed character sheet. The book will not show you buffs or debuffs you currently have. .rpg csheet will. This is the moment were you should make a ".rpg csheet"-Macro. It will come in very handy and you will use it a lot. Trust me. Let's look at your stats first: Strength: Your Hit-Chance vs. dodge in melee combat will be determined by either your strength or your dexterity, which ever is higher. Strength is a requirement for some gear, like plate armor. Strength increases the damage of some weapons and skills. Dexterity: Your Hit-Chance vs. dodge in melee combat will be determined by either your strength or your dexterity, which ever is higher. Dexterity increases the damage of some weapons and skills. Dexterity determines how much damage you avoid when you successfully dodge. Dexterity does not increase your chance to dodge! Dexterity increases the amount of energy you start with on your first turn in combat. Constitution: It increases your maximum HP by 100 per point. It reduces the amount of Fatigue you suffer from all actions, and increases your HP regeneration out of combat. Perception: It increases your chance to dodge. It determines who goes first in combat. It increases your chance to flee from combat. The amount of detailed information you receive when you .rpg csheet on another player or creature is determined by your perception. Willpower: It increases your Hit-Chance vs. dodge when using magic attacks. It increases the damage and healing of magic skills. The amount of skills your character can learn increases by one for every two points in Willpower. Willpower also decreases the magic damage you take. Ingenuity: It increases energy regeneration by one for every two points in Ingenuity. It increases the critical hit chance of physical damage skills by 0.5% per point, and magical damage skills by 1% per point. Critical Hits do 175% damage/healing. Some abilities scale with Ingenuity. What about the other stuff? Productivity is explained in the next paragraph. Fatigue rises with certain actions, like crafting, swimming, doing combat etc. and it decreases over time. A high fatigue decreases your healing/damage output, and increases your damage taken during combat. Story Stat is a special stat that is given out by GMs during events and can be used only during that event as a resource for special things. Energy is needed during combat to use abilities. Essence is a resource for some powerful abilities. It recharges slowly over time. IMPORTANT: More on Fatigue and Injuries Fatigue can rise from many actions taken in game, but mainly traveling with the boat, swimming and combat. The percentage number displayed under Fatigue in your RPG Handbook reduces your outgoing damage and increases your incoming damage during each turn of combat. Every time you get damaged in combat, you have a chance to receive an injury. There are several different kinds of minor injuries, and they can stack up. Too many injuries can become Major or Severe. There are several ways in the game to deal with injuries and fatigue. For example, using a campfire will reduce fatigue more quickly over time. Using a bedroll will greatly reduce the time that some wounds need to heal. There are also some abilities in your RPG Handbook under "Non-Combat Abilities" that can help with wound treatment. Click here for more details about injuries. How do I learn abilities? Open the RPG Handbook, go to "Abilities". This shows all abilities you currently have. The energy cost of each ability is shown in blue in the brackets. The essence cost of an ability is shown in purple. Click on "Ability Dictionary" to get a list of all abilities in the RPG. To learn an ability, click on it and then click on "Learn Ability". You can "unlearn" an ability once every 24 hours. Green abilities can be learned by any class. Blue abilities are class-specific. You can only ever have two class abilities. How do I equip myself? Every item is just "cosmetic". To give your item actual stats that work with the RPG, you have to apply a Token to it. You can get tokens from the vendor. Players can also craft tokens when they have the skill. To apply a token, simply right-click it and then left-click on the item. There is two types of tokens. Weapon Token and Armor Token. The weapon token only works on a fitting weapon. For example, the token for a Short Bow will only work on an item that classifies as Short Bow. The armor token only works on your chest armor. That means, whatever you wear as chest armor will determine the overall type of armor your character wears in the RPG, regardless of what you have equiped on head, shoulders, feet, hands, etc. Important: To equip your weapon/armor in the RPG, you have to equip it normally like you would any other item in WoW, and then type: ".rpg equip". Otherwise it will not show up on your character sheet. How do I get better? The two main factors in getting better are: XP and Productivity. XP: You increase your XP by Training. Open the RPG Handbook, go to "More Actions" and click "Start Training". This will spend 4 productivity every 5 minutes training until you stop or run out. Based on your experience level, this will result in various amounts of XP gained. You can kill NPCs to make training faster, spending 12 productivity immediately after killing an NPC! Productivity: Productivity is used to buy XP. It is also used for gathering and crafting, explained later on. You regenerate 3 Productivity per hour, even when offline. Productivity is shared among all characters on your account! How do I craft stuff? Gathering: Fist you need to find a spot that has materials. For example, if you want to find wood, go to an area with trees. Then, open up your RPG Handbook, go to "More Actions" and click "Examine Local Resources." If there is any, it will show up in the chat window. To start gathering, open up your RPG Handbook, go to "More Actions" and click on "Start Woodcutting". Now you just have to wait. To stop gathering, click on "End Gathering". Each "tick" of gathering costs 3 Productivity. Crafting: Get a Manual from one of the vendors. As weaponsmith, you want to get the "Weaponsmithing Manual". You can buy crafting recipes from the vendor. Right-click a recipe and left-click on your Manual to add it. Then, open up your Manual to see all the recipes you know. Click on one of them and it shows you the materials you need. Then click "Craft" to create the item. You need to stand next to the crafting station that is shown in the recipe! Crafting an item costs various amounts of Productivity, depending on the item! How do I fight? Start or join a fight: Find an enemy or an already ongoing fight, open your RPG Handbook and click on "Start/Join a Fight". Your turn: You will be notified when it is your turn. The time on your turn is limited, so don't take too long. You will regenerate energy at every start of your turn. Your turn will end automatically when you run out of energy, or you end it manually by typing ".rpg act end". You should definately make a macro for that! You will use it a lot. Abilities: You can use as many abilities in your turn as you like, as long as you have the energy for it. To use an ability, open your RPG Handbook, go to "Abilities" and choose. Alternatively, you can macro it by doing ".rpg act <abilityname>". Example for Heroic Strike: ".rpg act heroicstrike". Making a macro for abilities you use very often is a great idea! Engaging: To use melee abilities, you need to be engaged to your target. There are several skills that can engage you to someone, but the most common one is the "Move" ability. Losing all your HP: When a player loses all of their HP, they get stunned until the fight is over. While in this state, they can get injured or executed. Ending a fight: To end a fight, type ".rpg fight end". The fight ends when every participant votes for it to end. Players that are stunned due to loss of all their HP will always automatically vote "yes".
  5. 7 points
    “The world is a well from which we all come to draw a draught of knowledge.” The Votaries are an order of knowledge seekers, secret keepers and sorcerous pioneers. From disparate factions and races, they have come together to create an environment where their pursuit of knowledge can thrive. The Votaries work together, putting aside petty rivalry and factionalism in the name of progress and unraveling the mysteries of the world; and the secrets in the Doldrums. With the Kirin Tor and the Blue Dragonflight being but memories of the outside world, the Votaries of the Well has taken it upon themselves to collect and safeguard artifacts and knowledge of magical nature, be that of the light, shadow, fel, nature or arcane. The Doldrums is a place of convergence, great power is drawn into it and have for millennia. It is for the Votaries of the Well to ensure that this power is handled with care and to the benefit of the islands. The sacred beliefs of the order state that there are no gods, only Powers who use people as their pawns in the games they play with each other. In the eyes of the Votaries the Light and the Burning Legion are not much different from each other, they both offer power in return for submission. Unacceptable terms for the order. They do not forbid the pursuit of knowledge these Powers offer, but the terms must always be favourable to the Votary and never may they offer servitude. Clever deals and contracts are bread and butter for the order, they always seek to extract the last drop of advantage they can before closing a pact. As such, each member has a pact with the order which states the details of their membership, most follow the standard pact but a few members have special considerations taken into account. Studying the Arcane, Demons, the Light, Necromancy, Runes, Artifacts, Alchemy and so on are all encouraged, as long as faith, worship or servitude is not indulged, a Votary is never a pawn. The Votaries of the Well organise around grand projects which all members make their contribution towards. After a project has been completed, as judged by the Curate, a symposium is held to both discuss the next undertaking as well as celebrate the accomplishments of the order. A symposium starts with the Curate officially resigning their position and declaring a moderator for the discussions to be held. The moderator is usually a luminary who does not intend to argue in favour of a proposal. The moderator is then given a list of the projects members want to propose, any member may propose a project and argue in its favour. The moderator then keeps order and ensure that the symposium progress at a reasonable pace. He introduces the proposal and the Votary putting it forward, then allows the Votary in question make their argument in favour of their proposed project. After which any member may make a counter argument. Once all proposals have been made, the moderator will call for an anonymous vote to decide which project the order shall embark on. Once a project is decided, a luminary will be nominated as the Curate to oversee its completion. The Curate is an elected member of the order who oversees the current project the Votaries have decided to pursue. The Curate leads the order as the first among equals until the project is completed, at which point a symposium is organised to discuss the next project and vote on a new Curate. Only Luminaries are eligible for election. A Luminary is a full member of the order who have participated in the completion of at least one project. It is from the luminaries that the Curate is elected and it is they who are entrusted with the knowledge and power that the Votaries secure. Luminaries decide who can join the order and by consensus decide where the order should put their focus next and what their goals will be. Adepts are the new members of the order who have not yet participated in the completion of a project. Adepts have all the rights and privileges of any member of the order except voting on or eligibility for the Curatorship. To become an adept you must have a patron among the luminaries who can sponsor your entry into the order. This person vouches for your trustworthiness and is responsible for the pact between you and the order. Any race or class may join, even those who have no magical expertise. Warriors and such may act as artefact hunters, using magical items and enchantments to secure more knowledge and artefacts for the order. We expect most who join will be spell-casters of some kind however and welcome all kinds. It is important to note that the order does but welcome those of faith, priests and paladins are welcome but should be of the kind we see among the blood knights or Goblins. The light and shadow are tools, just like the arcane or fel and as such should not be worshipped but instead studied and brought under control. Power and knowledge must never come at the price of subjugation. Knowledge and power over the esoteric is dangerous and volatile, it must be in the capable hands of the Votaries of the Well. New discoveries must be documented in the Codex and objects of power turned over to a Luminary of the order or kept in the Vault. The power and knowledge of the order must be used for the greater good of the isles, as judged by the consensus of the Luminaries. “I, ______ ______, agree to enter into this pact sound of mind and body, wholly willing and with full knowledge of who the Votaries of the Well are. I will now and in the future be truthful and faithful to my brothers and sisters of the order, I will uphold the tenets in good faith and without deceit.” Formally form the order in role-play. Settle the rules and tenets. Hold the first symposium, deciding first project and Curate. Write the first edition of the Codex. Decide whether a Vault shall be built, and the details of location, security and access.
  6. 6 points
    Before we start: #1 yes this is a goodbye thread #2 no this isn't a M a n I f E s t O #3 please don't go deleting / moving this, or that'll just seem damn awful shifty Alrighty then, this is my goodbye from this server and as the thread title states this isn't due to the current hype wagon of BFA. In fact chances are I won't even be touching BFA and will be taking a hiatus (off to the long road many wander in between RP private servers) I just want to say that my initial time here has been a fun one. The RPG system and other custom components of this, whilst flawed in some ways, I find ultimately are quite a nice addition to the game and have a nice reflection to the pleasant grind that many of us game to love back in ye olden dayes of vanilla Wow (Rich Thorium veins in Burning Steppes will forever trigger me) It was good to see characters both new and old in a setting that was ultimately far more refreshing than a rehash of using traditional WoW settings from a geographical point of view, I only wish I could post the 'islands' meme with the Orc and seagull that Sitra posted those years ago when the idea first was uttered back on Legacy(?) and never came to fruition... yet here Unknown Shores stands as a testament to that. That having been said, I would not be leaving this server if I enjoyed it. The fun has been sapped out from this for one of many reasons and as a parting gift i'll provide my own two copper on how to fix the matter. I sincerely doubt i'll return even if these are adhered to simply because they run in direct conflict with many of those involved in major decision making processes here on US 1.) The lack of EU keepers / staff. This has been mentioned for quite a while and there have been nods coming left right and centre on the discord from the powers that be that this issue would be fixed and yet here we are, people are simply not logging in for anything else other than prod-chewing because there is simply nothing much going on during certain times. I have long since been a support of the 'make your own RP' camp however that no longer holds true when you have GM supported effects offering rewards (and I don't nessecarrily mean items here) to player participants whilst those that 'create their own RP' simply get that warm fuzzy feeling inside... that warm fuzzy feeling doesn't help all that much when the former start to gain significant strides in terms of progression through item acquisition, disproportionate friendship advancement with plot-central NPCs or even minor things such as asthetics. The simple solution to this is to actually hire the damn staff. I say this not as someone who was rejected as a keeper (I acknowledge the reasons why) but as someone who is actively observing guilds facing quite severe decline... and not just guilds as well: unguilded individuals face an even harder fate at the end of the day because of this. This is especially problematic when I log on and sit back (ho ho, you think i'm afk?) and watch as staff log onto their various characters or start meme spreading in discord when there are people either awaiting responses to their keeper applications or simply put aren't putting all that much effort into getting extra staff... I say this having spoken to a fair few people who have also put in applications and cross-referenced their responses with the GM activity. Stop messing around and hire more staff first of all -then- you have time to meme and post your 'off topic' emojis. 2.) Lore inconsistencies and back tracks. This isn't just referring to a handful of occassions i've witnessed, others have expressed similar concerns across other factions / individual cases. There are some rather severe and glaring lore inconsistencies and, quite frankly, these could be solved simply by either proper communication (which was absent), correct logging of events (either incomplete or not done at all) or by simply looking up stuff on wowpedia, none of those options are particularly difficult or arduous even with events that last well into the AM. This wouldn't be a problem if it was an isolated case but this is becoming a repeated series of occurances. 3.) Favouritism Because, looking at it, nepo really is the wrong word to use in these circumstances. It can be seen from a mile away, it can be seen from space. There are GMs on past servers who, credit where credit is due, have stopped and thought "Might this be misconstrued in anyway?" "Can stepping back here resolve a lot of problems later down the line?" and yet each of those past servers has usually resulted in the same problem leading to vast swathes of the player base leaving. Sadly it would appear that US is no exception to the rule and so for this I can only ask that you step back, look at what you are doing with objectiveness and clarity, and come to the realization that what you are doing may be considered by many to be quite skeptical. Don't forget as well because people cannot see whisper, guild, party, raid chats or even private discord discussions or back-and-forth forum PMs that according to the average player: F=S*2 With Favouritism always being equal to the amount of suspected favouritism times by two... and that is a generous two in some people's cases. It doesn't take long, in some cases it takes less than 10 seconds to ask yourself about an action if it is appropriate or not. 4.) Compelling, encompassing and interesting storylines. Once again, this is not directed at any one particular individual, however there seems to be some sort of 'rush' when it comes to RP. GM's will get bored with a current storyline and rush towards the end of it with little to no consideration of if the players are enjoying the ride or if they even wish to continue on with the storyline. A bit of public consultation on stuff like this really doesn't hurt. There have been numerous GMs in the past who have opened up feedback threads and whilst one or two of these have been swarmed with questionable uncritical 'feedback', the majority of them have been quite eye opening to the staff as to the wants and wishes of the playerbase. There is a whole series of islands here in US and I can't help but feel that their potential is being severely squandered for whatever reason... i'm no mind reader but it is perplexing to see a great many islands go either completely unloved or given a very brief token 'gesture' event and then nothing else following it. It is now getting to the point where individual players (IE: those unguilded) are really having to force through this desire for new and compelling storylines which make a greater use of the islands or, failing that, they are coralled into one of the few surviving guilds there are. Please start to make more use of the other islands. This is not a jab to open up NEW islands as that is totally out of your control and highly dependent on the activity of a willing world editor. I have offered a number of ideas and yet the reaction to which was seemingly 'meh' and passive with little to no consideration of other storylines. It isn't much to get together and brainstorm some ideas in a google document and get the ball rolling, as above this seemingly isn't the case or isn't particuarly visible. If in doubt once more open it up to public imput and maybe open a 'what would you like to see storyline-wise' thread? There's probably more to say but as I type this it is getting to midnight, i've spent most of my free evening thinking how to word this and how to type it and would greatly appreciate it if this isn't simply scrunched up like a failure on 'The Apprentice' and tossed into the nearest waste paper basket. If anyone of you wish to chat, meme or share nostalgic screenshots, you know where to find me. This is Gruk Timothy Hobo Grettik and Dascombe, signing out.
  7. 6 points
    “May ya always find friends in low places.” - Jani High Priest: Kuz Mayor: Eg Eg and Kuz, the Cult’s founders, are wholly and utterly convinced that The Doldrums is the realm of Jani. What else could it be? Jani is the Loa of the discarded, and everyone here is discarded by the rest of the world, stuck forever in Jani’s Realm under her protection, where only the worthy will ascend to become True Junk. Even the land itself is cast out by the rest of Azeroth, random seemingly disconnected islands forgotten by anyone but its denizens. It only makes sense that this is where Jani makes its home. Voodoo plays a large part in being a Jani devotee, but anyone can make a sacrifice to Jani as long as they have some junk to give or an orphan to give some food to. The guild focuses heavily on the worship of their deity and all things that come with this worship. Current Location: The Port After a series of tumultuous up-and-downs, the first ever port on Opej’nor is officially back in the hands of its original creators and founders; Eg and Kuz. The Port is the home of the Cult, though any non-Cult members are welcome to use The Port as much as they want; everyone is welcome. Currently facing a refugee crisis, Flotsam is not in its best condition; ridden with Fugie Disease, rat infested and with low food stores, it’ll need all the help it can get. The Loa of Discarded Things, Master of Minions, Patron of Scavengers, The Saurid Lord of Thieves and the Collector of Secrets. Many names describe this Lesser Loa who takes the form of an Anklebiter. Anywhere a pile of trash and debris is found, one can also find the essence of Jani- and perhaps even the manifestation of the Loa herself if the junk is adequate. Those ignored or mostly forgotten about are blessed with Jani’s protection; The poor, downtrodden, orphans and homeless. Jani, a purveyor of loot and trash, is hardly picky about her sacrifices. Everything from broken ship wheels to bottles of expensive wine to the Ashbringer itself are accepted as proper sacrifices in the Loa’s name. Very much like the rest of her prodigious pantheon of peers, Jani is every bit as fickle and very much a trickster. Despite the extreme loyalty the Cult might demonstrate, they could still be teased with various misadventurous scenarios equal to the amount of blessings they receive. Big Goals Gather a loyal Cult of followers. Build a religious site to devote to Jani. Summon an avatar of Jani into the Doldrums. Grow the power of Jani within the Doldrums through rituals and dedication, so that she may fight once again against the malevolent forces that have grown rampant in Her Domain. Little Goals Go on quests for Loot in the name of Jani. Get a trash caravan going where we go around the other settlements to collect their trash like literal garbagemen. Other smaller goals that emerge naturally from trying to achieve the bigger goals and other roleplay. HIGH PRIORITY GOALS Refugees! They need food, they need shelter, they need medical attention! Figure out what exact illness plagues the refugees and attempt to cure it. SOLVED (for now) Recruit healthy people to help out in Port Eg. Being a Jani devotee comes with a certain mindset and outlook on the world, accompanied by habits and little rituals common amongst the Cult. This is a small list of some of them, which is likely to grow as we develop. Compulsive Scavengers Jani followers are likely to see worth in almost anything they can pick up that looks discarded or lost. From interesting looking sticks to legendary swords found in the sand, it all gets picked up and considered a blessing. A lot of what they find ends up in the Trashpiles they dot around the place. Trashpiles Where Jani followers exist you will find their Trashpiles. Created to be shrines and altars to Jani these heaps look to other people like just stacks of trash, but they hold Jani’s presence within them. They can be any size, shape or worth. Sacrifices Jani loves loot. Most would say the shinier the better, but all trash is considered equal in the Patron Scavenger's eyes. Because all the refugees and others arrived onto Jani’s domain via the ocean, it feels natural to toss loot back in as thanks to Jani for bringing us together and invoke Her protection. Autonomy Being proud to be a part of a community of people who might commonly shout “Trash Tribe” in a show of comradery, mostly entails that one has no real qualms or pride about themselves. Members of the Cult of Jani are free to practice their own desires and goals, and experience equality amongst everyone else from lowly refugees to the High Priest and beyond. High Priest Kuz Self-Proclaimed High-Priest Kuz, benefactor, has jumped at the chance to use Eg-town as a wellspring for the beginnings of a group dedicated to worshipping the Loa. The island beset on all sides by a wide ranging pantheon of Higher Powers, mostly all sinister, has him pressed to introduce one to the island that actually represents the common ‘fugie. Mayor Eg Mayor Eg, co-founder of the Cult, has been a fixture in creating piles of junk in the Doldrums, responsible for the biggest one of all; Egtown. While not a troll and thus not having a direct connection to the Loa, he is still highly respected as a speaker on All Things Trash due to his contributions to clutter. Trash While most people would imagine a rank named ‘Trash’ to be the lowest in an organisation, in the Cult it is anything but. The Mayor and High Priest exist as a superior rank, but their roles are for organizational, diplomatic and educational purposes only. The two believe themselves to be equal to any other full member of the tribe/cult/coterie of dirty denizens. These are the meat of the cult. The numbers that make up the followers to the Patron of Trash and Loot. Their devotion is paramount to what blessings or interactions they receive from Jani, and thus are as impertinent as any other. One attains this rank after doing their initiations. Clutter The rank one gets upon completing the first and easiest trial of becoming a Jani Cultist. This is the first step on the road to being Trash, and most dedicated people won’t take long to ascend. While the Cult follows a Loa, which are strictly Trollish gods, we don’t discriminate based on race. We feel that of all Loa Jani would be most open to letting other races worship her. Saying that, while we technically accept all races we don’t expect all races to be very interested in this and will look pretty hard at certain races (Draenei or Nelves to name a few) before letting them join, both IC and OOC. People can join the guild through one of two methods: Already a Cultist You start out as a cultist and skip all the roleplay that comes with becoming a trusted member of the Cult. This comes with a bit of a condition that you have to play a loyal follower, since otherwise you wouldn’t be trusted and we’re assuming you went through the joining process. This is likely to be a refugee that lived in Egtown and got influenced by Eg and Kuz’ constant preaching. Recruited through roleplay You get invited In-Character (or ask) to take an initiation ritual and begin your journey on the path to becoming Trash. There’ll be several initiation rites you have to go through. *NOTE: It’s entirely possible to become a Jani cultist without being in the guild. Any character can believe in and worship Jani without leaving their own guild! Current Pledges: 5 - Sladicus - Locket - Intoxicated - Sprongle - Roz “One mon’s trash be another mon’s Loa.” - Jani
  8. 6 points
    A lot of issues; but primarily due to needing to focus on someone important to me. Cya; if you want to talk to me be sure to just say something on Discord.
  9. 6 points
    Goldwolf Cartel is a small organization which is lead by Greed the goblin, and is under Grom'Goshar's protection and authority, effectively making it a Horde-affiliated cartel. The difference between the two guilds will be that goblins and various Horde workers will focus on setting up a trading post and dealing with all those who come to it. We'll be focusing on constructing, gathering, crafting and overall tinkering with the system, and to create a Horde settlement/trading post which can act as a hub or trading center for players. This serves as an opportunity for those who wants to play goblin, as such seems lacking around. It's also a way to create a larger Horde community, should the guild succeed. Goals Short Term -Establish Goldwolf Trading Post in Opej'Nor. -Recruit Horde refugees as working force. -Establish ties with factions existing in Opej'Nor. Long Term -Become center of trade for the Horde in the Doldrums. -Expand Goldwolf Trading Post into a town and rename it. -Massive profits. -Big gains. Accepted Races and Classes Goblins, orcs, tauren, trolls, undead and blood elves are all welcome into the guild. All classes are welcome, however we'd like to not have TOO many edgy casters around. Members Greed - Boss Rules of the Cartel The cartel runs by pretty simple rules. Don't backstab the cartel or any Horde groups for that matter, don't keep artifacts of incredible power around(such are to be passed on to Grom'Goshar) and don't hoard resources, give them times to re-emerge. It's an unspoken rule that in order for trade to flourish, there mustn't be too much or any conflict with other factions or guilds. While the cartel is under Dragor Bloodfury's supervision and by extension the Horde, we're not a fighting force, nor will we only focus on being that. We'll sometimes go on adventures to gain resources and whatnot, but we won't seek out conflict too often. It's expected of the members to give the materials they collect to the leadership, then after that we can hand out resources to what's needed. While we can't enforce that materials are to be handed over, we'd appreciate it as it'll let the guild progress as a whole, instead of an individual. Closing Statement I haven't lead a guild in a while now, so it'll be a bit slow in the start maybe. But if people want to play goblins and create a guild that can support all members, then maybe this is a cool idea. I'd also like feedback on the idea below, if that'd be possible. Thanks for the read.
  10. 6 points
    Theme: "Someday, we all die. But what is important is how we choose to die. In glorious battle. For me, there could be no better death." Dragor Bloodfury Race: Orc Age: 62 Allegiances: The Horde, The Warsong Clan, The Warsong Offensive, Grom'goshar Aliases: The Old Wolf, Warleader of the Warsong Clan, Warleader of Grom'goshar Birthplace: Nagrand, Draenor Languages: Orcish, Common The Wars of Old Dragor Bloodfury was born into the Warsong Clan, many years before the opening of the Dark Portal and the subsequent wars that followed. For a time, Bloodfury had known what he described as "peace", if you could call it such. Before the Blood Curse ever tarnished the name of the Orcs of Draenor, there was the savage and primal time. For Bloodfury, his time was spent fighting alongside his father, battling the Gorian Empire in their twisted and ruthless efforts to place the Warsong back into slavery. No more would the Warsong become slaves, or so they thought... When Gul'dan rallied the Horde together to sate his own twisted plans, the Warsong Clan were the first to follow. Watching as Hellscream became the first to harness the power of the Fel, Dragor joined his kin, believing this new-found power could give them glory beyond measure. But how wrong he was, something he remembers to this very day. The memories of what transpired over the coming years act as a grim reminder of what atrocities he and his people had committed. With the Fel powering them, the Warsong lay waste to the Gorian Empire in an effort to completely topple the once mighty ogress. Though the thought of destroying the ogres was something Bloodfury relished, this was a manner he thought dishonorable, the way in which they massacred their people was neither proper nor honorable in his eyes. But he pressed on, as his father instructed. The bloodshed would continue until the Draenei, Ogres and other races had been annihilated. The siege of Shattrath was one of the next battles which saw Bloodfury question their actions. After succumbing to blood lust, Dragor found himself at the front of a slaughter of a collection of women and children of the Draenic people. To this day, he receives nightmares, the faces of those he massacred coming to him in vivid, haunting memories of the past. In time, this blood lust would only continue, before the rest of the Clan succumbed. Because of this, they were left behind on Draenor, whilst Warchief Blackhand lead the Horde during the First War. Though the Clan would be spared the defeat of the First War, they had to deal with the aftermath. As the world around them withered and died, the Warsong continued to fight with the other orcs and ogres, preventing Doomhammer to replenish his forces for the Second War. After the defeat of Doomhammer, the Warsong would finally partake in the war, being sent through the portal to protect it from the Alliance. This battle saw the fall of Dragak Bloodfury, Dragors father, as the Alliance Expedition slammed through Hellscreams lines, entering Draenor. In the chaos and confusion, a furious and sorrowful Bloodfury charged the Alliance forces, finding himself cornered. In the chaos, the orc would refuse to be slain. Despite the blows the Alliance soldiers inflicted, a strange force carried him on. Was it his rage? His might? The Fel? Even to this day he is unsure. In the end, he was rescued by a warband of orcs who came to his aid, offering a worg upon retreat. The last glimpses of that battle were the humans storming Draenor through the portal, with a number of scattered orcs being slain in the process. Despite the massacre he had witnessed on Draenor, and the acts he committed, this day would scar him. First hand, Bloodfury would realize that the humans were just like the orcs, and he bore a fierce grudge due to the death of his beloved father... Reign of Chaos Many years later, after countless efforts of evading the humans of Lordaeron, the Warsong Clan endured. Though hindered and beaten, they spat in the face of death many times over. At this point, Dragor resented the humans for locking up his people like dogs in cages, a poor display of what the Horde currently was. During such time, the relentless effects of lethargy plagued the orcs mind threatened to drive Bloodfury into weakness and incapability. Seeing the resilience of his Chieftain, Hellscream, he would continue to push on. At this point, he had a family. A mate, and two children, who shared the same strength and determination that he had shown before. But this would not last. Dragor would soon take a warband into the Hillsbrad Foothills, laying waste to the towns and camps in an effort to cause chaos and confusion, as well as provide the Warsong with essential supplies. At this time, the orcs began to break their chains and reunite along the new Warchief, Thrall, son of Durotan. This came after Doomhammers death at the hands of the Alliance whilst liberating Hammerfall. In time, the Horde traveled west to Kalimdor. Once again, Bloodfury allwoed himself to be consumed by old hatreds, joining his Clan in the strike against the humans who had traveled there to escape the Eastern Kingdoms. Blood would be shed, and Dragor would bathe in it... That is until the Warchief redirected the Warsong to the North, Ashenvale. It was there that certain events would indeed shape the orc to whom he was today. But theses events were not joyous, not one piece. There the raging battles between the Kaldorei and the Warsong were waged in the forests of Ashenvale, with the Kaldorei gaining the upper hand with the assistance of their demi-god, Cenarius. It was here that the Warsong made a desperate choice. Hellscream, having seen his Clan pushed to the brink, decided to drink the blood of Mannoroth once more. After loosing his family in the battles, and now a broken and demoralized orc, Bloodfury would drink. Regardless of what Thrall had taught them before about the dangers of Fel. He would have vengeance against the Kaldorei. The Warsong, now bolstered by Mannoroths "gift", would lay waste to the Kaldorei and to Cenarius, ending his life. Victory came, but at what price? Bloodfury remembers being freed from the blood curse, standing over the bodies of Kaldorei and Frostwolf alike. He had slain his own kin in his blood lust once again. Something that haunted him. But it was not all for naught. Hellscreams sacrifice had freed the orcs from the blood curse, and allowed them to eventually defeat the Burning Legion atop Mount Hyjal. Dragor would take the time to go into exile due to his actions, and reflect upon what had transpired during the 3rd War. There, the Old Wolf would question himself, and his honor. The Frozen Wastes When the Scourge invaded Azeroth in a bid to turn its people into the living dead and plunge the world into darkness, the Old Wolf returned. Having spent years in exile, he had prepared himself for what was to come. Having heard that the son of Hellscream had made a triumphant return, he was one of the first to pledge his blade in the fight in the North. Joining the ranks of the Warsong Offensive, he traveled North to do battle with the Scourge. Arriving in the Borean Tundra, the fight was like nothing he had experienced before. The way of battle had changed, especially with the living dead. Bloodfury would lead a number of raids upon the scourge camps in the Tundra in a bid to halt their operations, but at times it proved a daunting task. For all the undead they slew, more would take their place, some were even kin who Bloodfury had served with before. The task of putting them down grieved him deeply.. However, he was redirected to serve beneath Saurfang the Younger at Wrathgate. At Angrathar, the battle started positively, with the Horde charging gloriously into battle. It was at this moment that Bloodfury thought a decisive blow could be struck against the Scourge, until that moment came. The Lich King himself arrived, forcing Saurfang to charge in an effort to take the glory for himself. This proved to be his downfall, as the Lich King decimated him with Frostmourne, taking his soul. This was not the worst of it, as the forsaken revealed their treasonous nature. They released the new plague upon Horde and Alliance alike, with Bloodfury being forced to watch his own people succumb and die. Blacking out, he awoke to find that he was dragged off the battle with a number of wounds. There he would spent a period of the war confined to the hospital of the Warsong Hold. The Old Wold grew impatient. His fellow warriors were out dying whilst he was there, stuck in a bed, useless. He spent time honing his skills again, training so he could be fit enough to serve on the battlefield. Once he was ready, he was relocated to Orgrims Hammer, the airship hovering over Icecrown. It was here that he partook in more skirmishes, both with the Scourge and Alliance. After witnessing the Argent Tournament, something he found loathsome and pompous on behalf of the Argents, he prepared himself for the pivotal battle that would take place. Icecrown Citadel. The siege came swiftly, and gloriously. The chance to redeem himself, in his mind, had come. Leading a unit of Warsong soldiers, Bloodfury aided in the battle for the lower spire with the rest of the Horde and Alliance. They fought through scores of scourge forces who tried to halt their advance up the citadel. Once they made their way to the upper levels, they aided Orgrims Hammer in a fierce battle with the Alliance. Despite that battle threatening to undo the work that had been made, they soon went their own ways. Bloodfury and his soldiers were deployed in the upmost levels, to stop the Scourge rallying to prevent the heroes of Azeroth from being disturbed as they moved to engage the Lich King. In the end, he was defeated, and the Azerothians were victorious. At this moment, the Old Wolf felt he had redeemed himself. For the innocents he had murdered, for the times he succumbed to dark magic. It was here that he felt renewed. When the war ended, he returned to his Clan, to aid and teach them on what it meant to be a true Warsong. The Forsaken Isles When Deathwing shattered the world with the Cataclysm, the Warsong naturally rallied for war. Bloodfury was one of the first to join the fight against the Kaldorei in Ashenvale, when Hellscream commenced the Fourth War. The Kaldorei threatened the home of the Warsong, and Bloodfury did not take kindly to this. A brutal siege would occur, lasting a number of weeks before a daring counter-offensive would see the Warsong liberate their camp from the jaws of the Kaldorei. Even at this point, he was still searching for his friend, Gruk Charrbone, who had gone missing during the time of the Northrend Campaign. Having both served together in previous battles against the demons of Ashenvale, he sought to find his old friend. But at the same time, honor and duty demanded he remain with the Horde during the war. Once again, Bloodfury felt torn between the path he should take, and how best to go about it. In time, Hellscream would redirect some of the Warsong to the Twilight Highlands, to begin the invasion there. After years of knowing the treason of the Twilights Hammer Clan, Bloodfury would soon be able to bring them to justice, and he relished it. This would be short lived, however, as the vessel would be assaulted by a contingent of Alliance Vessels. In the battle, their ship was sunk, sending Bloodfury into the depths. It was here that he questioned whether he would get the glorious death he sought. If he would ever see his friend Gruk again. As the waves receded, he found himself on a strange, new series of Isles... The Doldrums. After hearing a number of his kin are on the Isle, and of the Horde, Bloodfury would set out to unify their people, so that they would survive under the banner of the Horde.
  11. 6 points
    Hemrick O. Alistus Gentleman, Wizard, Chirurgeon, Visionary 'He who makes a monster of himself removes himself from the pain of being human.' ~Doctor Samuel Johnson The Early Years. I began my path in life with the same vigour and curiosity that I have ever since cultivated. As a young boy at Sir Wesley's Boarding School for Young Gentlemen I quickly took a keen interest to the scientific and arcane arts, much to the detriment of my future there. I was studious and disciplined yet I often found myself in trouble both with my peers and our teachers. My projects, ambitious and revolutionary (albeit I freely admit now, quite immature and naive) lacked the martial applications sought by our mentors. In fact to my chagrin and later sorrow once my Father found out, they were horrified at my attempt to gift a rodent the power of flight. My kitchen privileges were rescinded and my ad-hoc laboratory demolished. Despite this early setback I was undeterred and decided to pursue my visions in secret. I laboured at night in the library, studying charts and books the content of which would only serve to perplex you, dear reader. But it is safe to say that I gave myself a thorough education despite the best efforts of my tutors. My graduation gave me the freedom to seek out the tutors I should have been granted, I found myself in the esteemed company of the masters of the Academy of Arcane Arts and Sciences. My father grudgingly, mostly at the behest of my dear mother, provided funds for my entry into the Wizard’s Guild and a premium membership at the academy library making available to me stores of knowledge no common man have ever laid eyes on. I gorged myself on what the old tomes and scripts offered and jealously guarded them from the predations of careless apprentices and old fools with little tact or propriety. My measures were often criticised by the librarians and they threatened time and again to remove my membership, it astounds me to this day that these supposed guardians of knowledge would allow an apprentice of no bearing or heritage to simply waltz in and leave with any book they wished tucked under their uncultured arms. While the Academy provided me with my first opportunity to pursue the great project I had set before me I soon received an invitation I could not refuse. The esteemed Sorcerer's League of Dalaran offered me a position within their ranks that allowed me to study under some of the most prestigious masters of our time. My mother told me, beaming with pride, that had my father still lived he, despite his reservations regarding the arcane and what he deemed similar silly nonsense, he would have approved of my advancement within the academic world. Of course, it was a few years after my arrival in Dalaran that my work truly began. Only after the wars, the plagues and the horrors of reconciling my position as a supposed ally of brutes and savages with the incredible breakthrough achieved by my greatest enemy and rival. My memoirs will detail the trials and tribulations of those times and how I came to be the giant of progress that I am today. And how I escaped these light-forsaken islands and returned to civilisation. Personality. Aristocratically Arrogant. Presumptuously Punctilious. Contemptuously Pretentious. Unscrupulously Inquisitive. Physical characteristics Nose. Hemrick’s facial features is dominated by the Aquiline peak at the centre, a beautiful, sculpted nose hinting at the intelligence, firm moral fibre and enlightenment of the wearer. He molded it himself, melting what remained of his cash to create the silver prosthetic that plugged the hole gnawed open by some rodent or ghoul during his short stint as a dead man. Hemrick has a habit of wiping his nose off with his handkerchief, making sure to polish it regularly. Left Foot. Born with a debilitating handicap, Hemrick struggled with a club foot for years. In recent times however he has taken it upon himself to improve on his situation. Currently he wears a gentleman scholar he met and shot dead in Silverpine, the purple-robed man provided all the materials needed for a very handsome new foot. Looking oddly fresh, compared to the flabby, grey flesh covering the rest of Hemrick the piece does not seem to be preserved by the necrotic energies within him meaning it is only a matter of time until it needs to be replaced. Belongings. Chirurgeon’s Kit A thick leather case which when unfolded reveals a set of scalpels, a small saw, an assortment of glass vials meticulously labelled, needles and thread, what looks like a hand-operated drill and a sinister, falciform knife with black handle and silvery blade. Haversack. A shoulder slung satchel which holds most of Hemrick’s belongings, within four books take up most space; ‘The Mysteries of the Worm’, ‘The Laws of Decay’, ‘Anatomical Illustrations’ and an untitled tome tightly bound with a leather strap. Besides the books there a writing implements, dice and cards, two boxes of ammunition shells, a compass, a scroll case, a sextant and astrolabe, a small spyglass, a thurible packed tightly with a pouch of herbs, a small case of cigars finely emblazoned with what looks like the silhouette of a Tauren and amazingly it seems like there's room enough for more. Magelock Pistol. An atypical pistol with mesmerising runes engraved both on the wooden handle and on the silvery barrel. Rather than a revolving magazine or being breech loaded the pistol sports a short spring-loaded belt which feeds ammunition into the barrel on the side of the gun. It is designed to fire specialised rounds and propels them through a small crystal which is activated when the trigger is pulled. Hemrick generally carries the pistol hidden within his coat but he is quick to draw it if danger present itself. Two cases of nine rounds each, each bullet being hollow and filled with murky, liquefied shadow which is released on impact and immediately infuse the target. Excellent way to quickly dispose of a threat. The rounds are quite hard to produce but can customised to contain a variety of chemicals or arcana-charged liquids or crystals.
  12. 5 points
    While not having a map in the Doldrums is intentional, I figured I turn over a few of my own, drawn version for players to use if they wish.
  13. 5 points
    greetings fellow legacy 4.0 degenerates on a serious note nice to see some familiar faces around, i'll be lurking about
  14. 5 points
    Ensign James Dascombe during training on Boralus circa 4 months prior to the second war James Dascombe Race: Human (Undead) Age: 32 (at time of death) current age uncertain. Class: Sailor (Rogue) Allegiance: Kul'Tiras Languages: Common, Orcish (Minimal) The Boy Sailor Growing up as a boy in Boralus was tough, doubly so for living out in the slums beyond the market place. Although not officially referred to as slums (for fear of upsetting the guard) it none the less was on the basis of cess floating through the streets on the gutters practically overflowing, flies became commonplace and deaths were meager and commonplace in a time of relative peace which saw Kul'Tiras as a mighty trading port across all of the human kingdoms. Anyone who wished to make coin -ALWAYS- found themselves here selling goods and exotic spices from afar. Admittedly at the age of ten, the young boy James Dascombe had no intention of growing up to be a sailor in the vast navy of Kul'Tiras, what was there to go to war with? The occassional floatilla of pirates or bandits who had managed to scavange a tiny trading cog outfitted with cannons presented nothing more than a gnat to be swatted by the might of the Kul'Tiran navy. At this point in time he could have ended up like many of the street urchins cutting purses on the docks of Boralus but fate would have something else in store for him. At the age of 11, everything changed when rumors spread like wildfire of a threat that had entered the land near the kingdom of Stormwind. Several years would pass with back-and-forth battles across the continent of Azeroth as well as the kingdom of Stormwind being burned to the ground in one such conflict, the city of Boralus became awash with refugees that disembarked at Kul'Tiras rather than make the full journey to Lordaeron. It was at this time that the lad James had grown into a slim yet fit figure of a man and had successfully passed his exams to enter the navy of Kul'Tiras as an ensign taking up the usage of a rifle and his trusty cutlass to the vast Orcish Hordes. The Second War The second war proved to be a strong life-lesson to the young sailor who began to experience the harsh life of a man in the Kul'Tiran navy. Backbreaking laborious work on the deck for sometimes months on end whilst his vessel, the HMS Boralus, simply stayed afloat in friendly waters waiting for orders to assist overrun fleets, during this time he heard rumors of the Horde winning the fight on the waves with the assistance of large dragons they had come to enslave. His first major conflict off the coast of Khaz'Modan consisted of chasing a single dragon believed to have been in a firefight with the Third Fleet. It wasn't until the beast was chased away by cannonfire and archers on deck that he saw them: The Wave Mistress and the Intrepid, both burning in that hellish flame of dragonfire that burned even upon the surface of the water, offering no respite to the many men who had sought to dive into the water to try and survive. Even the elven destroyer the 'Flying Ospray' was run aground, the Elven sailors with thousands of years experience were no match for the fire-breathing monsters of the sky. Months would pass with sporadic skirmishes upon the ocean chasing down Orcish juggernaughts and Troll Waveriders that the HMS Boralus came across, the crew became weary and tired... although no word of mutiny escaped their lips, the crew began to question their seemingly everlasting presence upon the sea having not left shore for what felt like eternity. Rumors from passing merchant ships spoke of Daelin Proudmoore himself annihilating a Horde armada outside Zul'Dare following the Battle of Hillsbrad only to find himself cornered by the winged beasts of the Red Dragonflight once more which blew apart several of the Alliance vessels, forced to retreat the admiral then plotted retribution. The HMS Boralus at this point found itself with a depleated crew having died of scurvy, wounds in battle or simply the pressures of the voyage drove many to irredeemable madness, the victim of one such bout of insanity was the ship's navigator whom, the captain saw fit to replace with the now-seasoned James Dascombe. Upon rendezvousing with the admiral's fleet, the newly appointed navigator begged and pleaded with the captain for them to accompany the admiral's fleet to wreak havoc upon the Horde's remaining vessels and to wipe out their drakes in retaliation for what he witnessed happen to the Third Fleet. Crestfall The battle of Crestfall would become ingrained within the psyche of the entire Kul'Tiran nation as the moment where it's fleet truely shined. With the help of the gryphons of the Wildhammer clan of Dwarves, the two sides of the Alliance and Horde clashed in rough sea waters where dragonrider met gryphonrider and juggernaught met frigates and battleships. Rumor has it on that day that the sea was as red as the Horde's flag, indeed a great many banners floated on the foam of the tides as did large chunks of flotsam and debris in addition to corpses galore. Sticking alongside Admiral Proudmoore's flagship, the HMS Boralus had its entire crew recieve awards for recognition as one of the few Kul'Tiran frigates in history to successfully, by sheer chance and will alone, to take out an Orcish dragonrider. Thanks to the first mate and navigator Dascombe's efforts, the Boralus made use of the large tides to get the correct elevation on a dragonrider strafing the waves for a ship to incinerate whereupon the creature was blasted out of the air and sunk beneath the waves. Although the Alliance came out victorious, it was considered a phyrric victory by the Admiral who lost his son to dragonfire, the final remnants of the third flee sank to the bottom of the Great Sea to meet the same fate as it's companions off the coast of Khaz'Modan. A tenuous peace? Now a decorated veteran of the famous Battle of Crestfall, James Dascombe returned to Kul'Tiras to train to properly become a naval navigator. It was during this time that he saw the aftermath of the war: scarred and maimed veterans across the streets of Boralus, horrific burns from dragonfire, limbs cut off from infectious confines of ships, malnutrition from some of the swabbies. A sense of national pride swept over him after Crestfall, though in that tide lingered the poisonous malice of his hatred towards his enemy. He had friends upon the Third Fleet and though he could not identify their corpses in the waters off Khaz'Modan due to the mutilation he knew at least some of them would have been there, he could only imagine the pain they went through in their final moments. Although peace of sorts came to Kul'Tiras and the other kingdoms whilst the Orcs rotted in their camps, he would awake each night in cold sweats with fevered panic. Some times it would be gasping for air from the cold depths of the ocean desperate for the warmth of a fire. Sometimes it would be a horrific burning sensation of what he imagined to be dragonfire, yearning for the release offered by the cold waters that hoped would put out the flames. Now at thirty one years of age, he would start to create maps and navigational routes of the most popular trade routes throughout the land to assist in peacetime efforts. Though eventually, as all things do, peace came to an abrupt end. The Third War The peace lasted long enough though the rumors of Orcish rebellions rose higher and higher until entire warbands were launching full scale attacks on the other internment camps throughout the Eastern Kingdoms. Fortunately though they would not come to seek vengence upon those who had imprisoned them, instead they would over the coming years steal enough vessels to make their way west seemingly off into distant foreign lands yet unheard of. Time would seemingly pass quickly as human and Elven kingdoms in their entirety fell. Lordaeron blighted with plague, Dalaran wiped out overnight, Silvermoon annihilated, all the while Gilneas stayed behind its wall and Kul'Tiras had the fortune of having the sea as its shield. Though with the fall of Dalaran came the exodus of a great many human settlers to the west by the hand of Lady Jaina Proudmoore. During this time the now-seasoned navigator James Dascombe embarked upon his old vessel the HMS Boralus to set forth on an expedition launched by Admiral Proudmoore himself to go rescue his daughter from the lands of the savages. Months would pass until they made landfall in this new land, word had reached them of this sickening 'alliance' between both Lady Proudmoore and this gladiator-turned-warchief known as 'Thrall', the only action that was to be taken was to rescue the admiral's daughter from the savages who had manipulated the daughter of the admiral. Blood, gore, and sand. That is what he remembered. Sometimes days would be spent on raiding parties attacking Orcish outposts in the deserts with sweat dripping off his brow and onto the barrel of his rifle. As a man accustomed to naval warfare he was out of his element here, fighting on -their- turf. He saw many of his kin slaughtered, their green tabards and red blood spilling out onto the dusty yellow roads of this strange and foreign land. Eventually the enemy would gain the upper hand, no thanks to the admiral's daughter providing them with assistance, the armies of the Admiral would find themselves pulling further and further back to Theramore which they had claimed from Jaina's forces only to find themselves backed into a corner. The Son of the Sea The last thing the navigator saw with his mortal eyes was the sight of cannonfire blasting apart the blockade around Theramore, the ships were blown apart by juggernaughts constructed by a goblin shipwright across the bay. He murmered to himself, knowing full well that the Horde would have not found that shipwright without the aid of Lady Proudmoore herself, but why betray her own people who had come to save her? He glared, his brow furrowed and he screamed in absolute rage as the HMS Boralus was consumed by cannonfire and blasted to the bottom of Dustwallow bay. There the navigator's tale should have ended, consumed by rage and hatred as he fell... but he didn't... not quite... The cannonfire had managed to blow him clear of the ship, the force alone sent him overboard with several large chunks of the hull penetrating his arms and legs, the salty sea water stung the wounds with sharp intensity as he fell weighed down by a large chunk of the mast and tangled amongst the webbing of the deck. Time passed, he was uncertain how long, but eventually his eyes opened with a dull yellowy glow. Reaching down to his boots he unsheathed his boot knife and cut himself free of his rope-bound prison and swam up to the surface. He gathered himself up by the outskirts of Theramore and found a small cemetery, the freshly dug graves he knew clearly contained those of his comrades who died on that day whilst those in the distance, even under cover of night, could be seen atop the battlements in their white tabards bearing the gold anchor. "White for cowardice" he croaked. His throat had grown swollen and contorted as he removed a large splinter of oak. Very little in the way of blood game out but what did was already blackened and oxygen-starved. He glanced upon one grave which held a number of items on it in rememberance, one of which was a single silver goblet which he used in conjunction with the glow of a cemetary lantern to glance upon his own visage. He recoiled, but not in disgust... that emotion seemed to had vanished. He simply stared in some sense of morbid curiosity... his full ginger beard had grown black and matted, he cut off most of it with his boot knife there and then as he continued to observe his skin now bloated and a faint blue colour. He had come to one conclusion and one conclusion only... he had become cursed, cursed to roam the realm as a phantom, a spectre to avenge the deaths of his admiral and his fallen comrades. Over the next year he would assemble a band, for he was not the only one 'gifted' with this curse to avenge Daelin Proudmoore, many other brave Kul'Tirans died that day in Theramore and didn't quite pass on to the other side. Gathering whoever he could of this crew of the damned they eventually overtook a Theramorian frigate stationed just off the shores of Tanaris... and that is where the rumors started. A hellish vessel bearing the colours of Kul'Tiras upon its sails, opening fire upon both Horde and Theramore vessels alike with little to no regard if they were armed or simply traders and merchants, the sea ran red on a particuarly vicious few months as despite their efforts both the Horde and Theramore never managed to catch the phantom vessel and it's undead crew. Strange New Lands Washing up on the shores of Opej he drew his twin blades hanging off his belt and made his way into the jungle. Blending in with his green Kul'Tiran navigator's attire he observed and watched from the distance. This new land was strange and as foreign to him as Kalimdor first was, all he had upon his person was a bag carrying a pair of bandages and two blood stained tabards: one of an Orcish grunt and another of a Theramore soldier. He looked into the distace of the shores of Opej and came across a large encampment built upon a sand dune... and there he spotted it. The golden anchor upon green. But knowing his gruesome visage he sat... waiting... Biding his time. Traits Navigator - Able to read the sea like an open book, capable of sailing a vessel with expertise when given the full compliment of crew Undead - Not amongst the land of the living, yet in a fairly -good- state of preservation compared to others. Vengeful - Has a seething hatred towards both the Horde and humans of Theramore True Proudmoore - Regardless of any other differences, gets on -VERY- well with those known to be Daelin Proudmoore loyalists Sneaky - Raiding ships under cover of night following the third war and no longer requiring to breathe has given him experience in stealth attacks, especially on vessels Appearance Although technically undead, James Dascombe is in a surprisingly good state of preservation. His injuries consist of a major gash at his throat which has seen some crude attempt at being sewn up, this is the reason for his croaked and sometimes slurred speech. Other injuries consist of multiple smaller gashes along the arms and legs from what look like large splinters of wood, all of which have been removed and have varying states of medical attention having been applied to them (some of a poor quality, some of a better almost masterwork quality) All over his body (or rather that which is not covered by clothing) shows minor signs of bloating and frequent exposure to anerobic conditions which causes the flesh to bloat and swell slightly, his hair has long since lost it's once-ginger hue and turned a muddy brown colour bordering on slightly black... there are telltale signs that he once had a beard from the odd hair upon his chin. His build is short and quite squat for a human, years of leaning over a table drawing on navigational charts has given him a rather hunched posture. In terms of clothing he wears what would once have been the very clear uniform of a navigator in the Kul'Tiran navy however this has long since deteriorated away into nothing more than rags.
  15. 5 points
    Personally I've always enjoyed subverting long held morals as well. I explored it with Fzhuzhem, having him justify his actions to druids by playing off the personality of nature. For those unaware nature is an incredibly generous force, some good study material that can be consumed in a matter of minutes would be the children's book "The Giving Tree" in which the tree gives everything to this boy as he grows up simply because he asks. Nature will always sacrifice itself for druids simply because they call upon it. Every druid spell uses their own personal energy and/or the energy of life around them. It's why despite game mechanics druidic resurrection is incredibly immoral to them. You have to kill a lot of stuff that wasn't past it's time to save one person that was. Fzhuzhem justified himself to druids by telling them that nature was caring and kind but was taken advantage of by all the races of the world. Sprawling cities where forests were, factories belching toxic fumes and spilling waste water into the environment, and that the Nightmare, which is part of the dream (thanks old gods) was the way nature would finally fight back. I wanted to explore why a Nightmare Druid becomes a Nightmare Druid. When you're told that Nightmare is just another way life can take shale and that a Nightmare world would restore nature to it's rightful state, it can become appealing. The other thing I wanted to work on afterwards, and still may if I return, was The Icon, who got some screen time before I made the call to resign before I burned out. The Icon was meant to be a powerful and mysterious living artifact of Holy power that case judgement on those it interacted with using a very black and white methodology. As the story would develop he would become a powerful ally to those he found righteous but become more and more difficult to work with given his refusal to aid those he did not see worthy of the light's grace. Even possibly becoming dangerous. The yin to Fzhuzhem's yang. Where Fzhu justified evil as good (I mean he didn't really need to justify it to himself, he was just fucking with druids) he would refuse to justify his actions at all despite them not being the most ethical means to conduct himself. A good support NPC should blur the lines of what is good and bad if they're powerful because they have less reliance on others. They don't have to make sense to people that can't help them, instead they should have people deal with the difficult choices of altering themselves or keeping up appearances for that person. There should also be contingencies that the DM plans for in an OOC manner that can help aid the players against plot elements in existing stories but isn't necessarily broadcast to players, such as the goblin space program allocating assets to provide a mortar strike against Fzhuzhem in the final battle. I saw a lot of people think outside the box and that was good but I also saw a lot of people try to improve their own power and story relevance rather than work their character into the environment and attempt to find aid where it already existed. There needs to be a considerable amount of that. Also lots of naked hotties.
  16. 5 points
    A notice would go up unusually quick around various noticeboards in the Doldrums, specifically those within Silver-Eye and around the settlement of Egtown with one or two leaflets strangely enough being nailed to the Horde and Alliance ruins on the Last Battlegrounds... The notices reads:
  17. 5 points
    "Brothers and Sisters! The time has come! Soon, The Black Scrouge will arise from the depths of Azeroth and usher in the begining of our grand paradise! His coming will herald the dominion of our benevolent masters. His flame will wash the world clean of the maggots which sin and destroy that which belongs to our masters by right! I have heard their voices, my body is their conduit, and to you, I utter their word. Sons and Daughters of the Old Ones, Devout Men and Women of the Hand, Together we shall embark upon a long journey, and convert many more to our cause!" These were the words uttered by the Conduit, the men and women within the room cheered as they set off for their task. With their captured ship, they sailed the seas of Azeroth in their pursuit to gather a strong host and destroy the creations of those that would have the audacity to defy their masters. Yet, such would not come to fruition so soon. As they sailed, passing by the maelstrom, they were struck by a vicious storm. With only a few spare moments to act, the cultists could not avoid their fate. However, not all was lost. Almost as if it was the invisible hand of the one beneath the seas, miraculously, most of them washed up on a strange, mysterious island. After a moment of silence, the conduit spoke to them once more. "It is clear now. This is where we are to begin our advance Disperse, find whoever lives here. This island shall be ours." "We will spread amongst the maggots. We will elevate and enlighten those worthy. We will sacrifice those who are doomed to sin. We will rebuild these islands in the image of our benevolent gods. We will ascend beyond mortalhood, and shed these shells of flesh and bone." 1. Spread influence over the entire isles 2. Establish contact with other cultists and 'recruit' new members 3. Incite war between the many factions of the Doldrums 4. Establish a more prominent base for the followers of the Old Ones 5. Take over the Doldrums 6. Break out "It is through the Conduit that the word of the Old Ones shall be spread. It is the Inquisitors who shall ensure his word is heard amongst the flock. Should they not be respected, it is the might of the Willbringers that will ensure there is only one truth... ...And that the Flock follows, of course." The Conduit - A leadership position, the Conduit is said to receive clear whispers of the old ones that show them what the Hand of Unravelling is meant to do. The Inquisitor - Second to only the Conduit, the Inquisitors are there to ensure that people know the orders of the Conduit and understand them perfectly. The Willbringer - The Willbringers act as the punishment of the Old Ones for cultists who are not devout enough and do not follow their orders. They are usually those that kill the unworthy. The Flock - Anyone asides the three specific ranks that have been listed above is a part of the flock. A general body of agents, simple cultists or doomsayers. Regardless of their role, everyone is sworn to secrecy. It is said that whoever speaks of the Hand of Unravelling before anyone else except for fellow cultists shall be punished into an eternity of torture by the Old Ones. "Step forward, initiate. Drink from the vial, and hear them call out to you. You are the child of the benevolent Gods, Give in to your fate." The recruitment is, of course, drastically different than it is in any other group. There are a few ways to join the group. The first members are, of course, those that came with the Hand initially. To join the group, PM me this: Character Name: Character Race: Character Class: Desired Rank: Roleplay Experience: Time spent in the Doldrums: Current Guild (IF ANY): How and Why they joined the Twilight's Hammer: However, as it stands, one of the goals of the group is to convert new members. This can be done in many ways. Subtle brainwashing, capture, etc. So yeaaah.
  18. 5 points
    A number of rather crudely made yet practical booklets appear throughout the various isles of the Doldrums archipelgo namely in settlements which are not considered hostile to the refugees who find themselves stranded. The booklets are left beside the noticeboards in such settlements and appear to have no cost, a simple sign in both common and (albeit very crude) orcish simply states: "Take freely and enlighten the world" If you are of the frame of mind that thinks of using the booklets for crafting materials, it would appear that they have been made from reused parchment of an extremely crude quality with the majority of any previous ink washed out from them. Telltale signs of their previous usage seem to have not fully bled out as small signs for 'goblin laser size enhancers' and 'The Doldrums circus' appear on the patchy corners The booklet seems to have the words inscribed upon it The Explorer's Digest Issue 1: The Temple of Tordala Opening the booklet you find the following inside Salutations budding explorer, and congratulations on picking up the first copy of the Explorer's Digest! Gnomish pictograph of the author in the Temple of Tordala My name is Grettick Gritbeard, MotEL, PoA, SA. Like many of you I am a refugee on the forsaken Doldrums archipelgo however this has not and will not stop me from exploring foreign lands to understand our past. In this first issue we'll be looking at the Temple of Tordala which is located on the unusual Isle of Menhirs, an island of mystery and magic. The temple is made of a few key parts labelled as follows: The Moonwell sanctuary The author collecting rubbings off the runes along the edge of the moonwell The moonwell sanctuary is a small part of the temple complex consisting of a pillar supported building, a pillar supported gateway, a shrine, a statue of unknown shape and form and, as the name suggests, a moonwell. This smaller 'sub-complex' is at the bottom of the cliff from the main temple and so for the purposes of this study it is given special attention. Initial interpretation of this moonwell is interesting, it is of a far less complex structure and design compared with those found in the Night Elf lands of Ashenvale, Darkshore and the like. The inscriptions and runic symbols on it suggest that it is part of the upper complex due to the contemporary nature of the designs. It is entirely possible that this is an earlier 'Proto-Moonwell' that precedes those that we see today. This indicates that the nearby buildings likely served as quarters for the Elven carers of the moonwell who looked after it and kept it in a suitable state of repair. Excavations around here may reveal items such as stonemasonry tools of an expert design for the carving of runes to contain the power of the wells. Images of the gateway, pillar supported building and the unidentified statue behind the gateway The curious part to the sanctuary is the nearby shrine which, although damaged and in a ruinous state, may not be part of the Moonwell sanctuary and could be later or even earlier. What is curious is when this author visited it there was a local flower left on the centremost shrine indicating it is still in use. In conclusion, we can summarise that the area known as the 'Moonwell' sanctuary is of extreme interest mainly due to the presence of a proto-moonwell, following the acquisition of willing volunteers and a knowledgeable excavation team, the archaeological investigation of this site could provide valueable information into the construction methods of moonwells over time in addition to information regarding their full function and operation. Image of the shrine with the recently laid flower in shot The Temple of Tordala Plaza The next area following a now-blocked pathwa.y* leads to the main area of the site denoted 'The Temple of Tordala', this is to be considered seperate to the temple as it contains multiple 'residential' areas in addition to a complex in the centre possibly acting as a gathering point for worshippers The Temple of Tordala Plaza consists of a large central 'plaza', a partial segment of a wall and two buildings considered 'residential' from external appearances. A rare segment of Elven masonry utilized for fortification processes The plaza area, showing the sheer size this would have been a prominent gathering area with possible ritual activity associated with it. Of particular note is the wall segment which suggests that some or all of the settlement was fortified to some degree making it a place of some note even without it's positioning on a prominent part of the landscape. There are few other examples of an Elven temple complex with fortifications surrounding it either partially or fully. Chances are that the remainder of the wall is either non-existant or has been annihilated during the sundering. Excavations around the settlement with trenches positioned in key spots will likely reveal the foundations of any other possible walls in the area. The two residential buildings appear to be the only ones in the settlement unless excavations reveal the foundations of others, one is larger than the other and appears not as ornate as the other smaller structure. Building designated 'small' residential building indicating possible high status usage. Has now been refurbished on the interior due to modern interference. The temple proper can be seen in the background beyond the plaza. Sadly it would appear that a faction of followers of the Horde referred to as the 'Talon' have taken up occupation of the ruins making internal investigation of these residential structures difficult pending negotiations. Given the author is a Dwarf this is likely to be a unfruitful. Building designated residential building 'large', likely once housed a small Elven household. Has been refurbished by nearby Horde forces. The larger central plaza likely held ceremonial meetings before proceeding to the inside of the temple or vice-versa, rubbings reveal it is more than likely to be of some ritualistic function however this cannot be fully ascertained until the site is fully investigated as this may reveal additional information such as alignments with Azeroth's moons. One interesting part of the plaza is the presence of a now destroyed statue... what remains of it suggests an Elven woman who once possessed a bow, possibly a military leader in these parts? The destroyed statue in question, the arm holding the bow can be found at the base of the structure The Temple of Tordala Very little sadly remains of the main Temple of Tordala, not even a statue as to suggest in who's name worship was enacted here. The building however is quite substantial or would have been in it's prime. Comparisons can be seen in Azshara with a multi-tiered structure with a single spiraling access-way to the top. Further exploration of the ruins is hampered by the large presence of Elven ghosts in the area some of which are passive but some are incredibly hostile going so far as to phase through walls and attack their target in a screaming sorrowful rage. It is because of this the author was unable to take any images of the ruins. Conclusion The Temple of Tordala represents an important site in the Doldrums in most part to the fact it is a multi-facted complex with aspects of military, residential and religious life all rolled into one single site. What remains is likely a fraction of the original temple-city considering it has endured not only the events of the Sundering but also the spirits of Legion demons nearby suggest that the place was sacked during one of the demonic invasions of Azeroth. Both of these disasters suggest that we will find far more buried beneath the ground which will reveal the foundations for further buildings and dare I say: the remains of a full city. The residing issue with the site is that members of the Horde faction known as the 'Talon' have set up base at this very important site and could (admittedly without realizing it) be damaging the site irreparably by living in it. I have attempted to make contact with the organization however their base is now unreachable due to a fortified gate halfway up the cliff pass with no-one manning it that often. Additional work Further archaeological work is required to gain an accurate record of these Elven ruins before they either fall from cliff erosion, conflict or magical anomalies. Of particular note is the temple itself which had a number of ghosts in and around the ruins making surveying extremely difficult. The author has established a basic contact with a research group on the coast consisting of Elven researchers from the fabeled city of Eldre'Thalas however any archaeological work -MUST- include these individuals as they likely possess a wealth of knowledge on the site that puts even my archaeological qualifications to shame! Those interesting in assisting them should seek out Comus Kir'Madune, leader of the expedition. To the eastern end of the isle appear some Elven statues however the presence of extremely hostile Elven spirits as well as what appear to be fel energies make this place extremely hazardous without an armed escort. Next time Catch the next copy of 'The Explorer's Digest' where i'll be taking a ferry to the isle known as Opej'Nor in search of ruins and archaeology and possibly undertaking a survey of the sand banks known as the 'Last Battlegrounds'! Contributors Enjoyed the read? Want to get involved? The Explorer's Digest is widely available on most islands of the Doldrums Archipelgo and is written in both Common and Orcish. If you are interested in putting an advert into the booklet then please contact the author by letter to the following address: Grettik Gritbeard The Silverscale Inn Bunk 5 Silver-Eye Island Payments for advertising contribute not only to additional research and archaeological excavations but also help fund the booklet by funding artists to make it far more aesthetically pleasing to others. Those interested in voluntary work for research projects please also contact the author at the above address citing any experience in fieldwork or with archaeological organisations such as the Explorer's League or the Reliquary. As a journal dedicated towards the thrill of adventure and exploration we are always on the lookout for contributions! If you've been on an exciting adventure as of late and wish to share it with the rest of the archipelgo's denizens then please drop us a letter and we may include your piece in our next issue! Are you a charitable soul with either silver or building resources available? The author of this booklet intends to open up a museum on Silver-Eye showcasing the weird and wonderful from around the archipelgo. If you have anything to donate (museum pieces are also appreciated!) then do please get in contact. And last but not least, the author's dissertation piece with the league specializes in finds identification of objects of titan creation and magical arcane items! If you have something interesting but you don't know what it is, give us a visit and we can identify items for a modest fee. ((For IC contact / letters left, please send a PM in a letter format via the forums or discord ('dascombe') and Grettik will get back to you))
  19. 5 points
    Greetings! I am the Alchemage! Purveyor of all sorts of mystical and fantastical roleplay -- Mostly I like to play magic users is what I'm saying. I've got experience with World of Warcraft and its roleplay community (including private servers like this one) reaching back for nearly a decade now, and what's here has truly piqued my interest A friend of mine linked me to this community here and well, it looks like an interesting idea that's at least worth trying out. However, I do maintain a certain level of skepticism on private roleplay servers, seeing how a lot of them have come and gone in relatively short periods of time over the years. Generally a project as ambitious as this one wouldn't be one on my radar, but I'm willing to give it a shot and hopefully to be proven wrong. Especially after seeing all the detail and work put into the RPG system that would likely be too much of a pain to work with otherwise. I just hope that the levels of character progression don't get too out of hand as this project grows older, as that seems to be a common problem among these roleplay servers. Either way, I'm happy to be here and am excited for the coming launch. Hope to see you on the islands! Also, I don't see alchemy in any of the RPG stuff. Where's my alchemy? It's important okay! Oh yeah, and tell me Warcraft puns. Post them in this thread. Make people groan.
  20. 5 points
    TWINWHISTLE AGE 162 RACE Gnome OCCUPATION Examiner of Arcanic Artifacts, Fourth Level Wizard RESIDENCY Transient; (Formerly) The Mystic Ward, Ironforge DISPOSITION Neutral Good FACTION Gnomeregon, Grand Alliance, Hall of Mysteries (Ironforge) APPEARANCE Strength. Courage. Menace. These are all words never once uttered in proximity to Twinwhistle's name. His is a meek and unimposing existence, though not without it's fair share of personal intrigue. What the gnome lacks in any exceptional physical attributes at all he makes up for with a vast intellect and quick wit fueled by the curiosity so well-owned by gnomefolk. This brilliance is reflected in Twinwhistle's sharp eyes, centered by a pair of brilliant blue irises. Perhaps the only sharp thing about him. An honest face framed a prominent nose bearing an upward curve, gray-blonde whiskers and a mop of hair atop his head to match. His robes were plentiful and weathered, a pleasant maroon sea offset by islands of brown accouterments. Dusted boots and a pouch-and-trinket laden belt served to keep him firmly weighted to the ground, his leather gloves stained with reagents for the alchemical and the arcane. A much-used messenger bag dangles at his side. At times, a pipe wrought of starwood tickles his pursed lips. HISTORY "Oh, for the love of--... !" Twinwhistle hissed unpleasant things between bared teeth. His eyes were assaulted by an array of blue and pink hues, unhindered magic sparking freely off the surface of a fist-sized orb made of intricately carved bronze. At it's forefront sat a deep red ruby, polished smooth and inset among the grooves and canals that textured the trinket's surface. Such odd arcana was less odd to Twinwhistle than others (it was, in fact, his very job to deal with them), but this one had proved incredibly troublesome. A restless night of dousing the orb in every divination and enchantment in his repertoire with no discernible results had culminated in him wearily tossing the thing against his work table in defeat. This elicited the aforementioned response, much to the gnome's surprise and confusion. The orb certainly was magic, but despite his best efforts he couldn't figure out the whats or the whys. He hadn't the faintest clue why, but that blood-tinged gemstone felt as though it glared at him from the mistreatment. Unease welled in the back of his brain. Unfortunate for Unease, because Frustration and Confusion had rented the whole sleep-deprived blob for themselves tonight, and swiftly gave Unease the boot. The gnome pondered his fruitless predicament for a moment. After taking the latest events shorthand into consideration, Frustration and Confusion answered the doorbell. Anger had showed up looking for a good time. He swiftly grabbed the orb up and began to give it a good, vigorous thrashing. Shaking it harshly in both hands, it protested in the form of exponential magical release. His study, once bathed a comfortable orange candlelit glow, now basked in a strobe of flashing blue. "Just what the devil are you, then?!" he squeaked, slamming the thing back down to the table and glaring at it as if it had just spat on his boots and called his mother a trogg. There was a faint shimmer of the orb's ruby centerpiece. Twinwhistle's panting drew short when the trinket gave retort; REPLY HAZY, TRY AGAIN. Twinwhistle perked up, his brows tossed skyward. "What?" he blurted. The orb was silent. A pause. He gave the thing another shake. "What?" SIGNS POINT TO YES. The gnome was at a complete loss. Yes? Yes to what? Literally, 'Yes' to 'What'? He sat the orb down and rubbed his temples. He had a feeling he wouldn't be getting any sleep anytime soon. More to come Soon™.
  21. 4 points
    Something I really liked about being a keeper, tagging onto what Alex said, is that you have the freedom to make a character as powerful or mundane as you want and play them freely without any fear of their death because they are a story element and not a personal possession. There needs to be more stuff like that, and done in a way where gaining favor with them or helping them reach a goal can give you some sort of rewards. It was a concept me and Rag toyed with before we departed the team with the goblin space program. Which I forgot to clean up. Oops. Players were tasked with the choice of supporting possibly shady, assuredly shoddy goblin escape attempts from the island. In the end players wouldn't get to get off the islands, but they would be given a generous reward for their hard work and cooperation. Unfortunately the goblins were met with understandable skepticism and in one case threats of third degree murder when they came around to seek cooperation... So nothing ever got off the ground. Pun intended, you're welcome. I suggest doing things that people have to think about, not just "I'm a mage and I want to make a big spell"... Think a group of savages that need help finding or digging up a magma chamber so they can sacrifice naked hotties to their volcano god. That'd be fun.
  22. 4 points
    Honestly the main issue that needs to be addressed is staff hiring. Literally most of the feedback goes back to staff hiring and the lack of ability to do things. People have already criticized the lack of plots going on in places, for example it seems Menhris has the main plot going on. The only plot that was going on Opej was Fzhuzhem but that eventually came to a quick close due to Vykax OOC schedule (Which I understand). This brings me to another point on staff hiring. There seems to be a severe lack of Keepers/active staff to help keep things flowing. Random encounters and roleplay are great but it's slowed down heavily and more staff need to be hired on both EU and US timezones. The issue with this is the selective nature of higher staff when choosing people. According to Varen they won't hire people that suit -their- image of the server even though they are perfectly qualified for it? This starts to make the staff look quite shady in how they do things, selectively hiring who they please. In Varens own words he said he had a list of people he wants to hire, to the public that seems like he wants to hire his friends and therefore they get priority over other people who have just as much qualifications? Echoes of Legacy start to come back here, where higher staff make decisions that look quite sketchy, especially when it comes to hiring certain individuals and accepting feedback. When I see a number of critiques and criticisms, it's struck off as whining or complaining, to the point where some staff feel as if they're being targeted or bullied. This leads me to believe that some members of staff simply cannot accept the criticism required to be taken for their role, and something needs to be done about it. Staff handling and communication is also a major problem. We've had events retconned or potential plots dismissed oocly because there's such a lack of logging done by higher staff to the point where it becomes motivation breaking. It shouldn't get to the point where players don't want to pursue anything over fear of stuff being retconned due to staffs ooc miscommunication. This frustrates many because it seems the storylines that members of staff are closely tied with seem to have barely any issues (save for one recent issue which was due to an event not being logged after a long hour dungeon crawling spree due to IRL fatigue). These issues are where accusations of nepotism and such come from. The fact that general players have issues getting events or getting stuff done, and retcons due to failed logs, but then people with staff chars seem to be hunky dorey with getting stuff done? Even so, I feel like there's an issue with staff failing to step away from major plots or moderate themselves in RP scenarios. Yes, everyone is allowed to have fun, but when we see staff characters having close ties with story lines that they OOCly know lore of, it raises eyebrows. In short; Don't complain about nepotism accusations when you closely affiliate your character with story line plots like that. There's a reason staff on Legacy stepped away from shit like this when they were hired. We've been in familiar waters before on Legacy, and we'd rather not have it get to the point where staff have a meltdown and fuck us all. The frustrating fact is that a good deal of these issues -HAVE- been raised before and been dismissed, but now they're being addressed when plenty of damage has already been done.
  23. 4 points
    Gruk Charrbone Race: Orc Age: 76 (Venerable) Class: Pyremaster (Shaman) Alleigance: The Horde / Independent Languages: Orcish (Fluent), Ignan Kalimag (Fluent), Other dialects of Kalimag (adequate), Common (close to Fluent) A Land Called Home Charrbone was one of those Orcs that chose neither the path of the warrior and not nessecarrily that of the mystic. The clan he was part of, a minor one faded into obscurity and all but deceased, was one which made up the larger shadowmoon clan in Shadowmoon Valley on Draenor, one known for its shaman and mystics. Although he studied the mystic arts he was not destined to work with all four of the elements that made up the natural world, he was destined to become attuned to the elemental forces of fire as a Pyremaster. The pyremaster undertook a rather unique yet important role in Orcish society... whilst many would choose their own way of entering their afterlife, many would opt for the act of cremation so that the spirit free of flesh can conquer the elements in the next life, the pyremaster facilitated that transformation from corpse into spirit through a complex series of rituals which became less a formality over the years and became far more communal, a ceremony where the relatives of the deceased and their entire clan would drink, dance and sing songs of their deeds of valor and their accomplishments. Although an adult and a wise pyremaster by the time of the blood curse, his vision and clarity was not enough to prevent him from falling to the same affliction that befell the rest of the Orcish clans who, in their bloodfeud, put the Draenei race to the sword. During this time his skill with the flame were used to incinerate entire Draenei villages and settlements, sometimes even using his abilities for gruesome executions where Draenei vindicators were held in cages in arenas only to be set ablaze with blazegrease. Years of this would continue, a sensation not unlike being trapped inside one's own body, his actions not his own and that of the fel coarsing through his veins. Orcs vs Humans Following the decimation of the Draenei population of Draenor, the Orcs turned their gaze to new worlds to conquer in the name of their demonic masters who had enslaved them. Gruk followed some of the later clans through the portal to learn the ways of this new world they sought to invade and despite the years of push-and-pull conflict they would find themselves bound in iron servitude and enslavement to their new human masters, trading the fel-blood for the pinkskin. Age had begun to unleash it's own curse on the now aging Charrbone who began to wrinkle and slow as the passage of time battered him physically. During the internment period, a great many of the Orcish population withered away with many perishing and even more losing their identity and becoming shattered husks of the proud race once called 'Orcs'. It was in one of these internment camps that Gruk found himself becoming what was the equivalent of a human chaplin, he would tend not just the physical wounds of the Orcs but their spiritual ones, speaking great stories of their kind and of great hunts in Draenor and of their great shamanic heritage. After the uprisings in the camps, which resulted in the Orcs gaining their freedom, Gruk made his way across the sea to the land of Kalimdor seeing himself less a part of this newly formed 'Horde' and simply one who tends to the spiritual needs of the Orcish people. Upon their arrival in Durotar he became something of a hermit, he did not follow the Horde in the vision of its new warchief Thrall but instead chose the life of a recluse in the mountains in order to better come to understand his connection with the elements that he lost whilst under the demonic blood haze. As he lived in the mountains of Durotar he dispensed wisdom to the next generation of shamans as they sought to acquire the blessings of the elementals of flame. The Burning Crusade When the call to Outland was announced, Gruk packed up his meager belongings and set out on the long and ardeous road to the Dark Portal along with young and fresh faced heroes of the Horde. Deep down he knew what he was going to find on the other side of that portal but the horror wasn't lessened by the stories he had heard. Making his way to Shadowmoon Valley with the armies of the Horde he eventually came across the shattered remnants of his tribe's old settlement, only the faintest remains still marred the area with telltale signs of old tent positionings and family groupings from the position of carved stones, the tents having long since rotted or burned away even this close to where the coast once was and now only fragments of the valley's rocky floor broke off and floated into the nether where the sea should have been. Close to the centre of the settlement he spotted old Kalimag markings on the floor and despite his age he managed to dig down finding a cache of ceramic flasks nestled in an old wicker basket. Recognizing it immediately as the fabled concoction known as 'Blazegrease' which is tribe brewed for the blademasters of the Burning Blade clan, he proceeded to make headway back to Kalimdor upon realizing that all that remained in Outland were sad memories and thoughts of shame from the blood curse. Upon returning to Kalimdor, he left his life of being a hermit behind and became a close advisor to one of the Warsong Clan's riders, an Orc by the name of Dragor Bloodfury. During this time he managed to recreate the recipie for Blazegrease and from this a new generation of blademasters was formed under the banner of the Warsong! Little is written of the Gruk and Dragor's ventures, all that is known to others it that the two spent the year taking the fight to the Horde's enemies in Ashenvale and protecting the Warsong Clan's interests in the land of Kalimdor. Though despite the war banners from Outland being stowed away in this tenuous peace, they were summoned forth once more. Stranded It has been a year since Gruk set sail for Northrend. Unlike his comrades who set sail upon the larger juggernaughts and Orcish warships, Gruk simply sought passage upon a small merchant vessel with barely any crew upon it for the sake of contemplation and peace so that he may meditate for the fight to come. Though little did he know it he would never make it to Northrend, for across the great sea a horrific storm came from seemingly nowhere and threw the ship around as though it were a toy. The superstitious crew thought it the wrath of Neptulon himself visited upon them in the form of a monstrous kraken, Gruk however thought better and came to the realization that his strong affinity with the elements of the flame probably did not bode well with those of the Abyssal Maw and the lieutenants of the Duke Hydraxis. The last thing he remembered was taking one final gasp of air as the split wreckage of the ship sunk beneath the waves, blackness filled his mind until he woke up upon a sandy shore, a rather irate beach crawler prodding him curiously with its claw before scuttering off sideways when realizing Gruk was awake. Dusting the sand off his tattered robes he made his way inland on this jungle-covered island. Despite (or perhaps because of) his age he did everything in his power to survive against the wind, rain and tormenting heat of this new environment, fashioning a crude shelter and living off what animals didn't manage to outrun his feeble frame. On several occassions he even fashioned himself a raft or a crude vessel and attempted to leave the isles in the hopes of making his way back to Kalimdor or finding some rest in death on the ocean waves... but each time he found himself sailing towards the islands rather than away from them... all manner of incantations seemed hopeless in aiding his escape from this prison without walls. For a whole year he would find himself secluded in the most isolated and hidden parts of the jungle, keeping himself far away from unwanted guests and returning to his long-forgotten life as a hermit, all the while meditating and worryingly finding himself severed from the elements, unable to hear their calls... that is until one day he woke to find his head filled with shrieks and screams in what was quite audibly Kalimag... they came from all around him in the campfire, the pond by his camp, the air around him and the earth beneath him. Something very bad had upset the elementals in this world, so much so that it was noticible even in this land seemingly magically severed from the rest of the world. But that wasn't the least of his problems. Over the next several days he would notice a great many new survivors washing up on the beaches, appearing in freak portal accidents and all manner of strange happenings. Something very strange is going on... and Gruk reckons the elements may provide the answers. Appearance Age is the first thing that comes to mind when this Orc is spotted, he has a large amount of wrinkles and sags around his face suggesting an age many may not have ever seen in an Orc before considering their warrior-orientated culture. When the body looks aged, his clothes look doubly so. It is suggested that when he washed up on the isle his original robes of his position as a Pyremaster were lost to the waves and so he wears tattered rags and weaves from wherever he can find them making him look like a vagabond and an outcast. When visible his arms appear to have various markings on them, some as permanant tattoos and others as temporary markings, all of them have the same thing in common in that they are all a form of Kalimag writing.
  24. 4 points
    Hey it's Willow. Varen shoved me this way... Kinda. Might remember me as Willow or Cecelia the Elf from... Many... Various nelf Guilds on past servers. :) It's pretty nostalgic to see so many familiar names again.
  25. 4 points
    A man stood abreast of time and space. Staring ahead, he saw through a thick haze that which would- or might- be. Such a sight, however vague behind the stained glass of precognition, welled within him with a myriad of emotions. Awe at its grandeur, hope at its implications, cheer at its forthcoming joy; but at the same time, terror in the face of hardship, hopelessness in the face of conflict, and above all else... insignificance. A nihilistic miasma filled him to the brim upon realizing just how little he would matter in the years to come, and how ultimately short his mirage fell along the threads of fate. Looking behind himself, the fog was much clearer. All that lay behind him was all that had come to pass. Regret, mistake, memory. But a warmth in familiarity, and a glow of pride in deeds come and gone. Turned aside, the man cast one final gaze to fate's horizon, and stepped back into the clarity of the past. Then, he awoke with a start. His heart was pounding, his palms drenched in sweat. His chest heaved as he struggled to find breath. Never before had he had such a dream so vividly poignant, so intense. Whence he began to recover, a realization came to him. His left arm felt as though it were both drenched in water and lit ablaze, and that stinging pain nearly drew the air out of his lungs again. Shakily, he gripped his forearm and brought it before his adjusting eyes. It was covered in shimmering crimson, eclectic patterns inlaid through scarification adorned his limb, and his racing mind finally caught up to the here-and-now. Wax candles were scattered around the cave interior, painting everything an dim and eerie amber. A pact had been sealed, and a pound of flesh given in return for an exceptional boon. Forcing himself to his feet, the warlock's eyes settled on the altar before which he had fainted. Communing with dark forces is always a taxing experience, but his hardships were proven worthwhile when the glint of a precious stone shone from the altar's center. A blackened pearl, in the center of which swirled a torrent of dull multicolored hues. Simple as it might look, it was captivating to watch; not to mention a true prize for anyone with knowledge of it's true nature. The wayward magician with a penchant for the emerald avenues of arcanism carefully scooped his prize into a small cloth pouch and strung it around his neck. His goal in hand, he could finally leave this place. Or so he thought. Crossing the mouth of the cave, the warlock's eyes widened. Where once were dense forests and green, now lay a rocky beach and an endless sea, the horizon mottled by rolling, stormy fog. The warlock's ritual site had found itself transported to the Doldrums. Of course, the warlock didn't know the name, nor where the islands even were. It seems his ritualistic slumber had bypassed the Worldbreaker's ascension, and had left him in a strange land with little to go one. But still, he had his prize; that was enough for him to press on. With his pearl, there was no longer a reason to turn his back on the future. It's time he moved forward.