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  1. 3 points
    We're launching 26th. We will open a character creation room the 24th, specific time has yet to be determined. More information will be released leading up to the launch. We're nearly there folks.
  2. 3 points
    I know that the server probably won't be up for a while, but I wanted to see if anyone was interested in my concept in advance. The Blind Eye was a covert society, standing in opposition to the Kirin Tor. Not full opposition, but standing against some of their practices. Practices like sabotaging other magic schools and the work of solo mages. Practices like pursuing political power over enlightenment amd understanding of the forces they wielded. Practices like wielding their magic recklessly and without a care. Of course, that was before the third war. Before Dalaran fell. The Blind Eye lost the majority of their resources, and fled across the sea with Jaina Proudmoore, going dark and integrating into everyday life in the fishing city. But, with their new home threatened, the Blind Eye is stepping out of the shadows, both to train a new generation of mages and to assist in the defense of Theramore. Where the Blind Eye once consisted soley of skilled mages, its ranks now consist of all manner of folk, from priests to warriors, more of a skilled militia than any army or cabal. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Blind Eye is lead by Elders, originally three of them. Elder Hadar, Elder Ivan, and Elder Agythys. The only confirmed living Elder is Agythys, hiding out in Theramore. Other members of the Society, such as Initiates and Acolytes and Seekers, have holed up as well in various places. But where the Order once only consisted of Magi, Priests, and Scholars, now warriors and all other manner of folk are brought in, for the purpose of defending Theramore, and uncovering the source of the corruption within Dustwallow Marsh.
  3. 2 points
    The Alarmingly Productive Development Blog #1 Hey y'all. Welcome to the first of hopefully many development blogs where I will on one end slowly descend into a constant nightmare of endless fear and paranoia and eventually go insane, and on the other explain the server's progress from a technical point of view. In this part, we'll go over the world that has been built to cater to the setting, which you can by the way find here. Theramore In the setting, Theramore is supposed to be a complete shithole of an existence due to lack of leadership. After a serious attack, much of the city lies in ruins, and depression runs deep in the streets. Big props to Moon for building the majority of this mess. The Crossroads Due to minor complications (namely that Orgrimmar has fallen), the Horde has moved its capital to the Crossroads. Due to the fact that most of the survivors have crashed here after Orgrimmar and Razor Hill, Zusk took up arms to make it look like a fortified and overrun version of the Crossroads. Northwatch Hold Having been taking over by Venture Co., Northwatch now serves as a pale shadow of its former self as a den of vile dealings and villain clubs. Many props to Liz who mainly worked on this (I think??) and put her heart into this piece of decorating. Yes, I will probably interfere with ERP in this place. Watch out y'all. Ratchet We stole Bonkle's Ratchet edit. xoxo thanks bonkle boi <3 Now, there's a lot more out there that we've built. But go explore, and see if there isn't any interesting spots to RP. Thanks to our builders that did the minor touches on areas not shown in this post, y'all lifesavers. Now, I'm going to go and be a corrupt administrator now. Adios nerds.
  4. 2 points
    Modified title and total HP. Approved. I'll approve faster than Zusk, even on phone.
  5. 2 points
    NAME: Lan’tahk CLASS: Warrior RACE: Tauren AGE: 37 HEIGHT: 8’8” WEIGHT: 715 lbs BIRTHPLACE: Mulgore PROFESSION: Protector OCCUPATION: Grunt (formerly) AFFILIATION: The Bloodbound Warband PROFICIENCY: Scaring, Smashing, Staying Calm Tall and muscular, this huge Tauren would have a genuinely diplomatic and serious demeanor. Covered with red tribal face paint and wielding a huge club-like mace in one hand, he would give off an intimidating presence contrary to his seemingly calm and composed behavior. Assigned directly by Magatha Grimtotem to aid the enlisted Horde in dealing with the infestation of Ragefire Chasm, Lan’tahk was stationed at the Cleft of Shadows in the service of the Horde. Enlisted as a Grunt in order to protect Orgrimmar from it’s internal threat, and on active duty at the time, he had a front row seat to the invasion of the Burning Blade. Although little is known of the exact details of his escape, since he does not remember more than a few brief moments of sobriety due to his unrelenting blackout-inducing rage, he is credited as being abnormally calm, slaying at least a few dozen troggs without aid, and saving at least one helpless family that had fallen victim to the merciless nature of the invading troggs. (Work in Progress)
  6. 2 points
    it's an antagonist but it's also an elf i'm feeling extremely conflicted about this
  7. 2 points
    The story of the warband. “They descended upon us like a tide of claw, teeth and clubs! I’ve never seen so many of them before! They pulled away my workers… My sons fought to stop them… I may be old, grey and beaten, but i will have vengeance for their deaths!” -Kar’thrak the old. Left in the wake of the brutal battles for dominion of Orgrimmar, which ended in a crimson slaughter and a terrible defeat, a small group of loyalist survivors from the bloody fights scattered across their old home of red barren rocks. Refugees, all accompanied by their common shame of defeat. As much as they all hated to admit it, the Horde was no longer in control of Durotar. A new master sat upon the seat of power. Their search for momentary sanctuary and an old memory of the trials of youth took them to the Valley of Trials, where they sat up a flimsy excuse for a camp. It was nothing fancy to look at, but morals was crushed beneath the thought, that the previously thought inferior Troggs, had washed over the Grunts of Orgrimmar with a sudden savagely strong unity and strength in numbers. The camp was dirty rags of linen cloth, sun-bleached bones and wounded members of the scattered Horde. Yet, it would suffice. Although, in the Valley of Trials the small band of survivors found strength and solace in their shared defeat, in their many losses and in their common wish to reclaim their rightful home, granted to them by their warchief. The survivors banded together, and formed a small warband with a simple goal; gather the survivors with the will for revenge and retake Durotar... For the Horde!. They were not elites, far from it, nor were they armed with the best of weapons or armor, but they would wage bloody war on the Troggs and Burning Blade loyalists or die gloriously in the heat of battle, as all of their ancestors had done before them. Yet, that would prove easier said than done, and not only were they isolated from the rest of the Horde, but enemies lurked all around them. Watching with shrouded blades and sharp predatory eyes. No reinforcements would come to aid the warband. No supplies would arrive in great caravans. They would have to hunt their own food, craft their own equipment, secure their borders against intruders and invaders, and most important of all; keep a constant supply of drinkable water. Guerilla warfare wasn’t cheap, and they had already paid a heavy price to survive, but once everything had been taken from their hearts, they no longer had anything else to lose. There was only victory or death. “Apart we will fall! Together, we, are, HORDE!” -Terrac Thunderfront. The goals of the warband. Short term goals. Establish means to keep the warband members, refugees from Orgrimmar and lone survivors fed, healthy and safe. Salvage and scavenge supplies, armor, weapons and useful items from the warzones. Seek other surviving groups of the Horde. If possible, open hidden trade- and supply lines to other surviving groups of the Horde. Mid term goals. Fortify the Valley of Trials. Capture and train beasts of war, including worgs and kodos. Raid the occupied zones and plunder everything of use. If possible, free any prisoners which may still live. Late term goals. Reclaim Razor Hill. Reclaim Durotar. Reclaim the gates of Orgrimmar. Reclaim Grommash Hold. The rules of the warband. In-character. Everyone contributes to the survival of the Valley of Trials, the refugees and the warband. Everyone contributes with their particular skills, strength or intelligence. Everyone gets to eat. Disputes between warband members are settled with duels of honor. These duels will always be one on one, and will not end in death (hopefully), as we need all of our people focused on the enemy. Killing an ally will result in a trial, where the warband commanders will act as judges and juries, though not necessarily executioners. Members of the Alliance are not to be killed on sight. They are to be captured if possible, for future hostage exchange for materials, supplies or food. Fuel for the Bloodbound Warband warmachine. Note - If capturing the Alliance individual is not possible, and they refuse to surrender… Slaughtering them may be a last resort or option as self-defence. Out-of-character. Follow the server rules. Respect your fellow players. Disputes between players will be handled by a guild officer, if the players are unable to come to a compromise or solution. The races of the warband. The orcs of Orgrimmar The tauren of Thunder Bluff The Forsaken of the Undercity The trolls of the Darkspear The goblins of the Cartels Roster. Ukhel the Insane. Terrac Thunderfront. Rogan. Lan'tahk Wartotem. This is a work in progress. I apologize. -Bloodtotem Chief.
  8. 2 points
    Hi. I'm the first of many staff members that will welcome you to this humble forum. Here's a company advertisement plug: Ben&Jerry's is super delish! Try some today!
  9. 2 points
    The general scribbles of a crazed. Name - Ukhel the Insane. Race - Orc, descended from the Warsong Clan. Age - 20 summers old. Gender - Male. Class - Axe moron. Affiliation - The Bloodbound Warband and the scattered Horde. The mind of a madman. In a world such as azeroth where blood, fury and ancient honor reigns supreme among the strong, it can hardly come as a surprise, that insanity can be found within the cracks and crevices of the world. Ukhel, a young orphaned orc, is known to suffer from madness. Yet, there is nothing wrong with a bit of insanity if it benefits a cause. Ukhel, however, lived in complete denial of his affliction, which made benefitting from it very hard, and he always had quick snappy replies to defend himself with. From his perspective, his actions and extreme fetish with dolls were very different from other lunatics’ madness, and he was never acting weird. No matter what he did, be it crafting sets of dolls from the hair of fallen enemies, chasing the pigs outside Orgrimmar’s gates naked while yelling Orcish insults, or stitching the scalps of fallen foes into flails and pretending to assault grunts with them. Much to his disliking when he got punched in the face as a consequence. During the massacre in Orgrimmar, Ukhel found himself frozen and petrified, as the massive army of troggs descended upon everyone. His former days of glory from the Third War had become a distant memory in his shattered mind, and as he watched the people he cared for get clubbed to death, he was unable to tap into the brutal lust for war, he had once had. He would have died, had it not been for an older orc named Terrac, who saved the younger lunatic. A refugee from his own home, Ukhel’s thoughts were weighted down, by something he had never felt before. Or at least, he didn’t think he ever had. It was the remains of his orcish mind, roaring at him from the dark depths of his shattered brain. He felt shame. Crushing shame. From that shame, a sense of calm was wrestled from the claws of insanity, and Ukhel found old strength return to him, as he settled his mind on a single goal. Redemption. He had dishonored himself, and all of his ancestors in his cowardly actions during the massacre, but he would regain his fallen honor. He would wage a bloody war on the troggs, the Burning Blade and all of their loyalists, and he would use his insanity, which he felt constantly claw at the back of his cranium like bladed spider legs, to leave displays of gore and blood in his wake. Ukhel now fights his inner demons in his young head. The constant urges of his madness, the shame of his defeat, and the will to redeem himself in the eyes of his ancestors. The appearance of a lunatic. Ukhel is a young orc, and his youth is clearly visible in his appearance. He doesn’t adorn as many battle scars as other orcs, but he is still wears former signs of glory, and he is marked with primitive orc skulls, carved into his flesh in obvious self mutilations. He has stubble hair and beard growing from his green skin, creating matt areas. However, his crossing from youth into adulthood have not made him weak. Trained beneath the harsh orcish teachers, broken by the horrors of the Third War, elevated back into savagery by insanity, Ukhel is an orc and stands as an orc. Strong and proud. His Warsong heritage stands out; muscles like tightened ropes ripples beneath his thick orcish hide, and the traditionally tribal-styled black tattoos found among Warsong warriors, slithers around his arms like lightning serpents. His fetish for dolls is still ever-present, and it shows upon first sight. He always carries a set of five dolls with him, either hanging from his belt or tied across his chest. Screamer, Slasher, Knife-ear, Blueblood and Butcher. Screamer is made of sun-bleached straw tied together with stolen tailor’s string to resemble a female orc with burned feet. Slasher is crafted from the claw of a Durotar scorpion to look like a male orc warrior, but is in truth just a stinger with a painted angry face. Knife-ear is a masterpiece made from the blue hair of a Kaldorei scalp, braided together to resemble a Sentinel, with the dried flesh as the head. Blueblood is a stolen Kaldorei childrens doll. Lastly, Butcher is a doll consisting of Quilboar flesh sewn together to somewhat resemble a worg, painted red with thick paste.
  10. 2 points
    Gonna try to respond seriously to this as I figure the setting is the most subjective part of the server from most players perspective. I was the one who both wrote the lore and made the biggest push for it in development so I feel obliged to explain. The rationale behind why we went with this lore ( Of which, if you are out of the loop or otherwise need a link for reference can be found here ) instead of a standard vanilla Kalimdor was due to a few reasons which I will list below. The lore and setting of a server is the sum total narrative of all player actions combined, other previous projects have used the "Post-Wrath" ( After Wrath of the Lich King ) and vanilla settings for Kalimdor and both have led to extremely comparable player decisions being made - this tends to make some people view the setting as 'stale'. For a clear example of this look at how in other projects people have done almost copy paste Centaur events in the Barrens, Theramore usually goes on the offensive to all non-black dragon antagonists, the nigh elves usually have a small but dedicated community that picks off problems with their faction one-by-one and finally you have the odd neutral guild, dwarf guild or flavor of the month experience. The new setting will add a element of uncertainty to what players will do, I am sure this is something that both the playerbase and the staff can appreciate after playing through the same Kalimdor several times over in the past. Vanilla and Post-Wrath settings especially have a immeasurable problem with player initiative when it comes to major NPC factions. Generally - Neutral guilds feel that they cant go anywhere without stepping on the toes of NPC factions and risking their guild base being taken over ( As happened in Legacy with a certain High Elf guild ) and faction aligned guilds feel that they cant go anywhere without having to ask their faction leaders for every small decision that they make ( Or risk having consequences roll in from NPC's. For two examples of this the Theramore treaty from the destruction of Brackenwall Village by a Theramore Guild and the 13th Legion in Outbox being reprimanded for acting out of line ) While it might take a while for players to understand this - in this setting both for the Alliance-aligned forces and the Horde it is going to be much easier both for players to raise up in these factions as well as generally ensuring that player initiative is preserved for players rather then players being forced to act in the interests of Storyteller controlled NPC's. Generally, in Vanilla and Post-Wrath Warcraft settings as a whole players generally prefer to make their own settlements rather then taking control of previously existing ones. This has come from decisions ranging from raising up in the ranks of the Horde or Alliance being hard capped to certain ranks in previous servers to some factions it just being unknown how exactly you go about some things ( Besides Mak'gora, how would a Orc become the leader of Razor Hill? ) By reducing the NPC power structure of both Theramore and the Horde as well as adding a few 'leaderless' settlements such as Razor Hill, Orgrimmar ( If players can take it back ) and Theramore it means that we are going to be pushing for player leadership and influence in these vanilla settlements much more then previous projects have in the past. This will hopefully reduce the amount that you see custom settlements overshadowing original towns and cities. ( Objectively, I want to see less Oakshires - its a lot of effort from the building team to build a entire town in game! )
  11. 2 points
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  13. 1 point
    Name: Alisana Sunseer Status: Alive Race: Blood Elf Age: 60 Birthplace: Suncrown Village, Quel'thalas. Class: Warlock Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Affiliation: ??? Occupation: Warlock / Summoner Languages known: Thalassian, Demonic, Partial Eredun, Common. Marital Status: Single "Since I have you here, I thought it would be exciting to hold a conversation! Are you not overjoyed?" Alisana inquired, an offended look gracing her soft, elven visage. The individual in question nodded immediately in response, letting out a muffled cry. Tears streamed down the Human's bruised and bloodied cheek, soaking the rag that had been bound tightly around their mouth. "Good. Now, how do we begin? Ah, yes! The perfect time would be..." Alisana had once been a well-respected sorceress of Dalaran. She taught many students in the magical arts of the Arcane, often learning a few new spells of her own in the process. However, she had a terrible knack for exploring the unknown, whenever it was possible. One such "unknown" became an obsession. The Forbidden arts of the Burning Legion, specifically Demonology. The sorceress would lock herself away for countless hours during each cold night, refusing any who sought her attention. Unfortunately, she had also acquired a detrimental paranoia towards her colleagues and fellow friends. Her paranoia ate away at her as she discovered unique ways of acquiring information regarding demons and the Burning Legion. Legal documents were stolen away on occasion, but returned with little notice. When she had been caught with any documents, she merely stated they were for, "Preparation, should the demons ever return." or "Learning more about our enemies as a form of defense. Their tactics and so on." No one believed her. Everyone kept a close eye on her as she wandered throughout the streets of Dalaran. She cared not. The trust that had once been bestowed upon her by the other magi had dissipated, but it bothered her little as she knew they would require more evidence than what they had in order to accuse her of treason. Everything was falling into place. With the Scourge on the rise, she would find a way to escape before it was far too late. Her abilities in the Fel and Arcane arts intertwined. She--... "Cease your whimpering! I am trying to tell a story here! I may not be an expert at doing so, but I can damned well try!" Alisana reached out a seemingly frail hand, slapping it against her captive Human with a resounding smack. Mucus and tears soared through the air upon impact. She retracted her hand, "If you insist upon interrupting me, I will make damned certain that you will gather zero rest tonight!" The captive whimpered, then sunk toward the ground. She had overcome several obstacles in order to acquire knowledge about summoning rituals. Details had been sparse, but she made due with what she knew. As she had neared the completion of her second summoning ritual - the summoning of a succubus - there had been an interruption so grand, even she had been eager enough to discover its origins. Countless corpses resided outside of the city walls. One such corpse, who appeared more lively than the rest, had been the fabled traitor prince of Lordaeron, Arthas Menethil. What was he after? Was it only death that he sought? Alisana hurried back to her hovel-like home and gathered her precious belongings. Now was the time to flee and expand her knowledge of the demonic arts without restraint. And flee she did. She scurried through a multitude of corridors as chaos erupted within the walls of Dalaran. As the city quickly fell to ruin within a few hours after her departure, Alisana left to seek out those she had been learning so much about. For what purpose? She had wondered that herself, and yet she pressed on. Having been given some time to ponder her path in life, she-... "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!? DID YOU NOT LEARN THE FIRST TIME? DO YOU SUDDENLY LACK THE CAPABILITY TO UNDERSTAND ANYTHING!?" Alisana burst out in a furious rage. Her blood boiled and her vision blurred by a fel-green tint. The captive let out another muffled cry, this time out of sheer terror. "I've heard enough from you! Here I was being generous enough to tell you about myself, but you are too selfish to acknowledge even that! Fine. So be it." Alisana said, snapping her right-hand fingers in a form of command. A massive, muscular, bronze-armored figure towered over even the elven woman as she crouched down, "I had planned on sparing you for another day or so, but now you've gone and angered me. You are unhealthy to me, causing me so much stress. He will enjoy this, and it will not be over quickly." As Alisana stood up to walk away from the scene that was about to unfold, the towering figure of a Felguard strode forward, lofting a large, devilish, arcanite reaper axe that made even Alisana feel shorter than ever. "My choices in life may not have been logical or "intelligent", but I like to believe that I can make a difference one way or another." Alisana proclaimed to herself. The sounds she heard would normally be horrific, but the woman merely ignored them to the best of her ability and entered a nearby tent, which had not been her own initially. "When your bandit friends return, I'll continue with my story. You'll be missing the greatest parts, too. How unfortunate..." Alisana's Traits and Flaws Alisana is a devious, cunning woman with a respectable amount of intelligence and willpower. However, she tends to be too overzealous and confident, which leads to dire mistakes. If she seeks to hide something, she will do so in a way that she believes is brilliant and witty, but in actuality is likely to be flawed and easily discovered. Her innate ability to control demons has left her with a weakened body, but also a powerful mind. Unable to swing a sword or staff for long, she usually tends to attempt avoid close-quarters combat, or escape it with the aid of her spells through mental assaults or cursing hostiles beings with terrible ailments. Even though she lacks physical strength, she inevitably relies on her Felguard to defend her to the death, along with any other of her demons. Alisana is a chaotic individual, but refuses to act in a hostile manner unless she is given a logical reason to do so. Her mental state is unstable, which causes her to act erratically and spontaneously. Although Alisana will seem calm, she could erupt into a blazing beacon of anger and hatred at any given moment. Those who encounter her will learn to choose their words carefully.
  14. 1 point
    Oh, I know. I hope to encounter plenty of conflicts! It'll make things fun and exciting, memorable, too, if it all is done well. Most adorable pic! Thank you! :3
  15. 1 point
    Heyo everyone. I'm Ras, I used to RP a Troll Argent Crusader back on Legacy and several other servers. Considering the lack of Argent Crusade, I intend to roll up an Orc warrior. So heres hoping I know how to play an honourable character!
  16. 1 point
    She proclaimed loudly, seemingly to herself, "I do not need you to dictate what it is that I can, and cannot, do! I am capable of functioning on my own without others, regardless of my actions throughout the years! Spare me your elaborate lectures." Waving a hand dismissively, the mad Warlock continued on with her journey through The Barrens. No one responded. In truth, however, there was one that eventually did. A figure wandered nearby Alisana in momentary silence after the woman's defiant outburst. "What it is you seek is not power, knowledge, or control. You seek the company of others. Love, compassion, and respect. However, you fail to comprehend this, and still you carry on with killing and torturing innocents to satiate your desire to push away the truth that seeks to blossom within your heart. Why?" The individual asked. Their figure was hidden behind a baggy robe, as was their head and face covered by a large, dark hood. The voice, however, was feminine in origin. "There you go again. You act as though you know more about me than I do myself. Be gone from my sight, unless you seek an early demise, tormentor. Your arrogance will become more than a bother soon, I reckon." Alisana said, her frustration evident. Shaatom marched in silence only a few feet away, but did not appear to acknowledge the individual that his master spoke to. "You are a misguided woman. You desperately cling to that which you cannot ultimately control. You lose yourself with each passing day as you hope to find an impossible answer to an impossible question. 'Who am I?'" The woman paused, then spoke once more, "All you truly wish for is to understand the unknown, but also to gain the respect of others through sacrifice." The soft, feminine voice continued, the words escaping her in a sorrowful fashion, "Unfortunately, you had chosen a path that led to your damnation. Now, you seek forgiveness. Redemption. You've realized your mistakes, mostly, yet cannot escape your path. You accept this, yet wish to redeem yourself as a form of self-completion. Your urges to murder innocents are not your own, but those of the demonic influence you sacrificed yourself to. Perhaps I can-" The mysterious woman was cut off by a swift, boisterous, "ENOUGH!" "Enough with this mental torment! Enough with these lectures! How do you even know all of this!?" Alisana burst out in anger, questioning the unknown woman that proceeded to step closer to her upon freezing in place. "... Perhaps you will find what you seek in the North. There is a land that is named after the once-queen Azshara of the Highborne. A realm forever frozen in eternal autumn. There, you may find that which you secretly desire." The woman spoke confidently. Her words were truthful, Alisana admitted silently. She may have murdered, tortured, and committed other heinous acts upon those she encountered throughout her travels, but each time she did, something within her stirred, sending a pang of regret and remorse through her mind and soul. Why? She could not yet discover the answer. "Somehow..." she thought, "This woman knows what I desire most. I must question her before I seek to rid myself of her pestering words." "It appears I've struck a nerve of consideration. Will you heed my words of advice?" The woman asked with a hidden, yet obvious smirk on her lips. "Perhaps, but I am only doing so because I believe it is wise. But I digress, why should I make my way north? If you will indulge me that much." The Warlock stated, then inquired calmly. Her recent fury subsided as quickly as it had risen. "A people that you once knew reside there seek to explore a new realm, yet one that is as much a home as their previous. You've known this, yet denied yourself the chance to pursue them. Do not deny your conscience, lest you truly wish to lose yourself to the madness of fel magic." The Mysterious Woman spoke convincingly. They stood mere inches away from one another, Alisana and the Woman, and yet the Warlock could see nothing of the other's identity. There was one key factor about the individual that tormented Alisana the most, something that became much clearer as the two proceeded to converse: The woman's voice. It was unusually familiar, and sounded much like... "Wait a moment." Alisana stated, then looked at Shaatom who scanned their surroundings throughout the length of the conversation, "Shaatom, do you see this woman?" Shaatom glanced over to where his master gestured, shaking his demonic head. Alisana, for the first time in ages, became deathly pale as realization struck her, "Did I just- was I talking to myself?" Her voice began to quiver with uncertainty as she neared the end of her inquiry. Shaatom nodded. The Felguard had nothing to hide, nor fear, from the lesser creature that was his master. All she had over the demon was control over his will, but even that was seemingly futile from what he had witnessed just now. "I... am certainly losing- No! No, it was an illusion. I will find you, Illusionist, and I will make you suffer for toying with my mind!" Alisana declared with false hatred and anger, then muttered to herself, "... But I will consider your words." Looking at Shaatom, she waved a hand toward the northern region of The Barrens, "We're leaving for the north. If any seek to halt our progress, we will force them to move, then we will carry on. Nothing shall disrupt us from reaching our destination. Well, perhaps death. That's always a constant outcome. Let's hope that does not happen, hm?" (This will be where I stop the story stuff. I'll continue on through IC means when the server launches! HYPE! If you've any words of advice regarding the story, let me know! Criticism is always appreciated!)
  17. 1 point
    The Alarmingly Productive Blog #2 Hi all! Yet new entry in our Development Diary! Some of you might know but we are using Phase C core which comes with some of brilliant systems that Phase C had, such as renown system, APTs, and yes, even Prologue Talents! Honestly speaking, we really racked our brains over this one since we couldn't get it working for newer characters. However, hallelujah! We managed to get it working (I really have no idea how we did it though.) Now, some of Phase C veterans might be quite familiar with this system, but there's some people who isn't familiar with it! In order to use Prologue Talents system, you will need at least 100 renown to get your first 1 point! How we do get renown, you ask? We get it though two methods -- First method is getting Tales Token (formerly Prologue Token) which is simply earned though playtime! You need x2 Tales Token then go to a special NPC to convert it into renown! Second method is to have SOMEONE ELSE to do #renown to you, in process sacrificing their own 2 Tales Token to increase your renown because they think you're awesome! That how you earn Renown. Now, that is all explained away, let's take look at Prologue Talents! How we do locate it? It's fairly simple, in your talents tab, there should be two (or three if you have Dual Talents spec), there should be special icon like showed beneath: See that icon that says "Prologue Talents"? We click that! Now, before I continue here, we have quite few specializations, that's divided neatly into Commoners (Civilians!) and Heroes. In this case, mine is Heroes, and I have chosen Mystic and Storyteller for my character. Check below: See? There's two tabs that clearly says Mystic and Storyteller! Now, I have I have around 3 points left! Let's fill out in my Mystic Talents, hmm? Let's see what's first talent in Mystics is... And it's Channel Energy, with two ranks! First rank, I get some awesome spells, and second rank I get some neat APTs! Check out below: Now hmm, do they really work? Let's see if I can cast Channel Fire! Yup! Now how about my Portable Braizer, oh look here it is! Well, Prologue Talents is pretty much working, but there is still some kinks in the system! Now you might be asking, "Danare! You said there's more specs than Mystic and Storyteller?!" Why, yes. Let me list out the specializations here: Mystic - Wield the fearsome power of magic to point where you might even be capable of returning from death! Storyteller - Have the ability to know the information and I heard rumors that there's some sort of secretive library that only few can enter... Warden - Have ability to grow beautiful flowers and tame flora, or to spread blight and force flora to SERVE YOU! Medic - Are you injured? Medic can heal you and let you stave away death for a bit longer...! Diplomat - Want everyone to get along and have happy peaceful world? One need to start off as diplomat first! Maybe you can enter enemy faction's cities... Stalker - Don't like being out in spotlight and just want to secretly and quietly kill your enemies? This is the spec for you! Architect - Like building things? Then BUILD ALL THINGS! BUILD MORE PYLONS! Body - Want to be stronger than everybody and be more powerful on battleground? This is for you! Brewmaster - Want to be majestic and amazing drinker along with having awesome cooking APTs?! Mmm foood... All of the specs is divided into two alignments: Commoners and Heroic. For Commoners Alignments, they will get: Medic, Architect and Brewmaster (not much choices, I know but more might be added in later.) And Heroics gets: Mystic, Storyteller, Warden, Diplomat, Stalker, and Body. That's the specs that is available to us right now. Few days before the launch, we'll release more information on how to get the talents and more comprehensive guide on how to use it! I hope you all enjoyed the Dev Diary update! Cheers, Danare
  18. 1 point
    K i e r M a r r e n Mage • Human • 25 years old • Male Occupation: Researcher specializing in botany & entomology Birthplace: Marren Vinyard, Kul Tiras Current Residence: Probably Ratchet Affiliations: Kul Tiras, Dalaran, Dalaran Young Botanist's Club (DYBC), the Future Mages of Azeroth (FMA), Interkingdom Chess Federation - Kul Tiras Division II Physical Kier is a fairly average and forgettable sort. He stands around 5'8" and his build is narrow. It's clear the guy doesn't do much in the way of physical activities, though he's considered downright fit compared to some of his young friends back in Dalaran. His skin is a fairer shade of olive, either from time spent in the sun or a gift of genetics. He dresses well enough, usually in robes that are comfortable for their quality instead of their age. He often has a hefty leather satchel hanging across a shoulder. Kier's sandy-colored hair falls just below his shoulder blades, tied in a low ponytail with a thin cord of well-used leather. He keeps a beard and mustache, both tidy and trimmed near the skin-- it's clear that it would grow in thick if he allowed it. The beard does a good job of aging him and hiding a baby face beneath. He has dark brown eyes that run the gamut between sparkling interest and hopeless dullness of wits. Personality Like the shine in his eyes, Kier's personality can vary wildly depending on his circumstances. If asked, Theramore citizens would have said he was an anti-social fellow who preferred strange beetles to people, often sulking in the inn or dragging through town without sparing a nod or a how'dya'do. In Dalaran, he was known among his peers as a wickedly fun upstart, but one who had a habit of taking on more activities than he could handle. Those who knew him as a child would only be able to point out his absolute obedience and eye for grapes, assuming he would take over the family vineyard. As with many young people, Kier has only just begun to settle into who he is. He has learned diligence and how to pace himself, though he retained his deep interest in bugs and grapes alike. A person would notice how measured Kier is, and how he thinks before he speaks-- some have accused him of being a great bore to talk with, a flaw he hasn't put effort into correcting. He is afraid of horses, dogs, heights and pirates. He loves moths, tea, early mornings and being clean. Past His name might ring a bell to someone who has had the pleasure of visiting Kul Tiras, though Kier Marren wouldn't dream of using the Marren name for his own gains. His family has owned the Marren Vineyard for generations, quietly accumulating wealth and rarely expending influence. The Marren family resisted the urge to expand their lands or venture into the hairy world of politics, developing an agreeable reputation that kept them at very low risk of losing their hard-earned gains. If one were to ask a Tirasian how rich they thought the Marren family was, most would shrug and say something vague about them "being comfortable." Kier was given the best of private tutors as he grew up. When his aptitude for basic magic became apparent at around 14, his parents didn't even balk when he asked that they fund his studying at Dalaran. His parents and two younger sisters assumed Kier would eventually return to resume work at the vineyard, as he had taken a great interest in the growing of vines. His time spent studying in Dalaran was a blur, though he performed adequately in learning the different elements and their usage. While he never stood out in any one field, his interest in botany and entomology grew greatly, a fact that confounded his elders. To them, that was something he could learn anywhere, even back on Kul Tiras. While they shook their heads and thought about what to do with the apprentice, Kier started various experiments in magical influence on biological life. Mixed into the chaos of the Third War, Kier found himself riding the wave of history to Kalimdor. Still largely untried, he was often pushed into the masses of refugees instead of being asked to act as a Proper Magi of Dalaran in Jaina's inner circle. It was a good thing, as he was wildly sea sick throughout most of the voyage. He would not have blamed death for taking him during those innumerable days, as it kept trying so hard. It was a long while before he began to regain his health and it wasn't until after Theramore was founded that he truly felt 100% again-- he was largely useless during the action of landing and scouting the coast of Kalimdor. After finding himself posted quite unexpectedly in Theramore, Kier seized the opportunity to continue his research. He quickly found the swamps to be full of new plantlife and strange bugs, delighting him endlessly. His tiny room was often filled with disgusting jars of swamp critters and growing vegetation. He was very willing to discuss his experiments with others but, for some reason, nobody ever brought it up. He was away the day Theramore was besieged, finding himself conveniently (and awkwardly) on the wrong side of the battle. Never an overly brave man, Kier fled the swamps through the path of least resistance, straight into the Barrens. He carried with him a change of clothes, a satchel of notes and research materials, and a freshly-jarred toad. Image Credit: Jillian Johnston
  19. 1 point
    Its detailed, 'balanced' and all over relatable. Its good to see some alliance initiative as well- very fine work. Have a bread stick.
  20. 1 point
    Alisana stepped outside of her newfound tent with a yawn, followed by a bright smile, "Shaatom? Have you delivered to me any food? If you wasted... however much time, I will be very disappointed." She spoke to her Felguard, which had been standing a short distance from the small campsite. However, Alisana noticed something beneath his heavy, plated boot as it struggled. Another bandit! This one, unusually enough, was a Quel'dorei. A male one at that. She considered her options. "I shall crush this one, if only you will grant me that wish, Mistress." Shaatom rumbled out in his demonic tone. He emphasized his point by adding more pressure onto his prey, causing the elf to release a harrowing cry of pain and fear. "No, no. Not yet, at least. We'll decide this one's fate in due time." Alisana waved her hand dismissively as she regarded Shaatom's desires, then let a wicked grin play on her lips. She took a handful of graceful steps forward, seemingly teasing the elf with her motions as she continued to speak, "I have other plans for this one, now that you've caught him. It has been so very long since anyone had made me even remotely happy. Entertain me, and I will spare you." she stated, kneeling down before the captive high elf. The Elf's eyes grew wide as his mind raced, "What do you mean? There is no possible way I could even consider entertaining you in this state, especially since your demon may have broken a rib or two." His breathing became faster, panicked, as he realized his life may be at an end sooner than he had ever anticipated, if he spoke the wrong words. Was this woman insane? That was obvious, he corrected himself, as he glanced up at the towering, looming demon. "There are ways. Shaatom, be kind, would you?" Alisana gestured, and the Felguard obeyed. The demon's plated boot was raised off the elf's chest, allowing the captive to breathe. "I have a better plan. Indulge me, and we shall see to it that you are spared. It'll be our little game, hm?" "Game?" The elf said, groaning as he shuffled over to a nearby wooden stool to prop himself up, "And how can I be certain that you will spare my life, Demon-lover?" Alisana's mind went wild with fury! She quickly moved to the injured captive with surprising speed, closing the gap between her and her prey. The captive was too slow to react as something solid and swift collided with the side of his head. Everything became black and silent. "First of all, you shall show me respect! Secondly, you shall listen to my story-... Oh, my. Did I do that?" Alisana's unstable fury subsided upon investigating the damage she inflicted upon her captive. She inhaled through puckered lips, then spoke of the damage, "That will ache so very much when he awakens. No matter. At least now, he will listen without interrupting, or insulting, me." Shaatom merely nodded, then took his place as a warden a few steps behind his Summoner. The captive elf groaned and shook. His eyes struggled to open. His ears began to focus in on the sounds around him. One such sound became evident, and was only a foot to his right. He attempted to regain his full focus, trying to discover what the other voice was saying more clearly. "... And, so, I had abandoned that small cult, which held no true meaning in this world. They were like little children pretending to be something they were not. I found them here, on Kalimdor. Fancy that, hm? I learned what I could and ventured away from the marshes." The woman paused to gather her thoughts, "That knowledge was not gained without a price. I had to commit many sickening actions in order to learn what I know now, but I feel it was worth it. I hope that cult is rotting somewhere. What a terrible attempt at "appeasing the Burning Legion" they were. Anar'alah. Skipping forward, I soon found myself in the area known as "Desolace". Let me tell you, it really is desolate! Demons and other spooky creatures reside there. Perfect for me, I'll admit. Eventually, I found a means to perform the ritual of summoning that allowed..." "Does she ever stop talking?" He pondered silently. "... It was an absolute mess! If you ever desire to watch a group of Orcs degrade into beasts within a few hours, allow me to be the one to show you such entertainment. In any case, that was after they had beaten and subdued me for overthrowing their own warlock. The fool thought he would be the next "Gul'dan". I can only tolerate so much stupidity. She paused once more, looking around the area warily, "Fortunately, I successfully summoned forth Shaatom in a ritualist sacrifice while imprisoned. Using arcane magic to create a flimsy pocket dimension tends to work here and there, it seems. I never want to risk that again, however. I would've lost plenty of resources, and the will to live!" Alisana let out a sigh of adoration, "He was so kind as he entered our world. He threatened my life, I threatened his. 'I'll shatter your bones!' followed by 'I'll break your will!'. I enslaved him before he could react accordingly, and he set me free. Romantic, is it not? We've been together ever since. That small hovel of orcs became a mess. We departed and returned to the marshes, for now. Supplies were needed, and this is the only area with guaranteed, lively camps. Well, mostly." "Does she truly think I care?" The elf wondered. His vision blurred. His skull ached, and so, too, did his chest with each breath. "... Oh! You've awoken! Very good!" Alisana said excitedly. "Y-Yes... I am." The captive stated, wracked with pain. "Yes! Now I can finally ask you something." The woman said. Something in her tone hinted to a subtle, yet encroaching darkness. "What... would that be?" He asked, feeling more uneasy that earlier. "Is that your friend? Were you two, you know, 'committing to the dark ritual'?" Alisana grinned and winked slyly, nudging the other elf. His heart sank. Everything became numb. His mind emptied itself of all other thoughts, except for those involving the marred corpse of a Human woman. His butchered love. "Judging by your expression and even-paler skin... Yes! Unfortunate, really. I would have enjoyed having you around as my own. All you'll do now is reminisce on the old times with your past lover." The Warlock said, a lack of true compassion in her words. "No, wait! I can be of use-!" His words fell on deaf ears as a dark aura encircled his chest. Agony beyond any mortal comprehension flooded his body as he slumped to the ground. His pain-wracked, fear-stricken expression remained as the only telltale sign of what had been his final moments. "Breakfast!" Alisana said cheerfully, "How thoughtful of you, Shaatom. Thank you for bringing this food! This should last quite a while."
  21. 1 point
    my BOY back at it again For Bloodbound!
  22. 1 point
  23. 1 point
    No problem, we Foxes must help each other out
  24. 1 point
    Thank you! I guess it did seem fancier. I'll ponder it, but will also leave it as Alisana for now.
  25. 1 point
    Welcome to Tales ^^ I hope you'll have fun here :3
  26. 1 point
    *Reaches end of story* No... NO! *Shakes screen* NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Absolutely love it.
  27. 1 point
    A good mix of strengths and weaknesses. As for being an elf with demons and fel at their disposal for arms, it'd be interesting to see how Alisana/Alisanai Sunseer became 'the Twisted'. Well done. Have a bread stick.
  28. 1 point
    Really enjoying the story so far and the way to tell it. Good job (: It'd be interesting to see a Belf Warlock since most Belves aren't dabbling in Fel yet. (At least not the Quel'thalas or Azshara Belves)
  29. 1 point
    Valungu "I've spilled blood fo' ya', now I be expectin' da' same from chu'!" Name: Valungu Race: Forest Troll Age: 31 Affiliation: Horde Remnants (Formerly Revantusk Tribe) Class: Shieldmaster The Beginning Ever since Valungu was brought into the world, he was conditioned to defend the Revantusk Tribe at all costs. When he first picked up an axe and a shield he knew that, one day, his training and skills would be put to good use. As he reached adulthood, he was sent out with Revantusk raiding parties to hunt and defend Revantusk Village from other, local Forest Troll tribes. For 12 years, Valungu bled and killed for his tribe. Orgrimmar had fallen, and an Orc messenger had just brought word to the village, asking for any assistance the Revantusk Tribe could muster. Thoughts of leaving the village behind and making it open to attack were few and far between, but Valungu stepped up, packed his gear and supplies, and began traveling down the road that would last the rest of his life. Through all the pain and sorrow, anger, and happiness, Valungu would die for the Horde.
  30. 1 point
    Fear not, Forest Trolls will be available as I recently made them
  31. 1 point
    So just a bit to think about. It might not make a whole lot of sense for a forest troll to be with the Horde in Kalimdor in our current setting, perhaps a Darkspear troll would make more sense?
  32. 1 point
    like, no promise, but i think the belves might be hit by a mana bomb before launch, thus making them unplayable Welcome to Tales.
  33. 1 point
    Welcome to the ranks!
  34. 1 point
    This thread is here to facilitate questions, race suggestions and eventually, post-release feedback for the Morph System. Over time we'll add in an FAQs section to give people a go-to post to find the answers to the most commonly asked questions about our Morph system. With Demons and Keepers and Ogres, it would be understandable for people to ask: Where is the line drawn? At what point does a morph character stop being a normal application and become a matter of special circumstance? The definitive answer to that, is still in the works. Tales of Warcraft plans to take Roleplay to new heights! But in order to do so without radically unbalancing the world, we need time and deliberation to ensure more advanced things can be on the table. Higher forms of demons and other large and/or powerful beings may one day be playable, in limited number or form and rest assured, we’re always looking for ways to introduce new things without tipping the balance into a one-sided situation no-one ends up happy with. Your voice matters to us here on Tales of Warcraft, let us know your feelings when release days come and make sure to pipe up about races you would love to see added to the Morphs list some day. Constructive Community input will allow us to grow and evolve this system to make it both advanced and balanced as the list grows. That's it for now, feel free to post your questions below and we'll get back to you as soon as possible!
  35. 1 point
    Hello! I'm radd, I saw the reddit post and decided this place seemed like my jam. I love the ideas going on with this server and I'm super hyped to see where this goes. I'm way too into Warcraft lore and the idea of an alternate-vanilla timeline has me absolutely tickled. I'll probably be lurking, 'cause I'm shy, but I thought I'd say hi and voice my enthusiasm anyway. So, hi!
  36. 1 point
    Age: 837 Race: Quel'dorei (High Elf) Sex: Male Occupation: To quote him, "a great many things, Agythys is!" In actuality, the list is fairly simple. Spellwright/Enchanter, Alchemist and Lighthouse Keeper. Affiliation: Theramore, Kirin Tor, Quel'Thalas, Blind Eye Alignment: Chaotic Good Location: Theramore Weapons: ??? Basic Information: An elf with flaxen hair, often garbed in yellows and blues and blacks and whites. He crossed the sea with Jaina Proudmoore, setting in as the lighthouse keeper of Theramore. Around the city, he has a reputation as somewhat of a crackpot, tinkering around with potions and fuels for the flame at the top of his tower. But a few people remember Agythys Oldgrove from across the sea, and in the third war. In Dalaran, Oldgrove was a member of the Kirin Tor, specifically a Spellwright. He scribed new spells from nothing but ideas, and was a master of the school of enchantment. During the third war, he was one of the mage-priests who stood alongside Jaina's army to defend the World Tree. But his actions in Dalaran, and his new persona, both were carefully cultivated to hide what he truly is. But if you know where to look...you might see things. His clothes are fine and unpatched. He eats well. He receives visitors at odd hours. And carved in the bottom corner of his doorframe is a blinded Kirin Tor eye. ((if anyone can help me reduce the image size, that would be lovely))
  37. 1 point
    Allahu Hatbar.
  38. 1 point
    Orgrimmar Has Fallen, pt. 2 The door flew, as if it protested against the very idea of gravity and won that argument, as the veteran ran outside. Terrac was sure the door flew into a rampaging trogg however, yet he does not remember flawlessly. Terrac saw all the civilians scatter in the Valley of Strength, as the trogg fought an one-sided fight against them. While he stood and observed for a short moment to map the battlefield in his head, a screaming trogg came running for him, a spiked club raised in the air that it was preparing to slam into Terrac. Yet the slow trogg’s hands was in the perfect height for a slash, which it found out rather efficiently when its fingers were removed from their earlier resting place, as Terrac’s axe made contact with the trogg’s club. Both the club and all of the trogg’s fingers went flying, and the trogg’s screams became even louder. And while it was distracted, the axe came swinging back, planting itself in the side of the trogg’s crooked head, the last breath cursing in pain in a language unknown to intelligent beings. Terrac knew what he had to do. Help with the evacuation of the civilians, and establish a foothold in the defense. However, he knew for a fact there was some leaders out there with far more experience in commanding a defense force than him, so he decided to leave that part to them. While standing in his thoughts, Terrac had a hard time missing the trogg that flew left to right in his eyesight, as well as the Grimtotem tauren that flew right past as well, dressed in a grunt set and carried a huge mace, that soon found itself into the face of the whining trogg that soon carried on into the afterlife. The tauren would repeatedly smack the mace into the head of the trogg, that was long gone from this world. It would actually require Terrac to run over with a smile and use his voice to interrupt the violent tauren. “Why waste all your energy on one, when there’s a lot more to beat up, Grimtotem!?” Terrac yelled, proud to see the Horde still had such warriors at its disposal. The tauren would eventually stop beating the trogg and look behind him, with a strange, calm expression. “Earthmother’s blessing, brother.” the good tauren said, with no anger in his voice whatsoever. With a helping hand from Terrac, which nearly wasn’t enough mind you, the big tauren got back on his hooves. “I am Terrac, Terrac Thunderfront!” the orc proclaimed proudly, a smug smile covering his face. A nod was returned from the tauren, who calmly stated “I am Lan’tahk Wartotem.”. The greeting had been done, and so, the two warriors shared a moment of unity, and turned towards the crowds of troggs. “We have to rescue the civilians.” stated Terrac, looking around. His gaze spotted at who remember as Eitrigg, a hero in the Horde together with Gamon spearheading a giant crowd of merchants and workers from all of the Horde’s races, as well as the Cartels’ goblins in a fewer number. The goblins had probably used their smart inventions to get out of here. The two warriors would’ve run after them, if they didn’t see two different scenarios play out before them. On one end, an orc family consisting of the parents and two young girls was in danger, they were surrounded by half a dozen troggs. On the other end, an orc sat up against a small sandstone wall with some sorts of dolls lying around him. Terrac looked to Lan’tahk. “Save that family over there. I’ll take care of that lone orc. We meet at the Gates of Orgrimmar” the orc stated bluntly, before the two departed to each their task. The tauren would with a relative calm expression charge into two troggs that blocked the family’s exit from the gang’s hold up, letting the two troggs defy gravity. The troggs smashed into the building that the family was held up against, and the two disgusting beings fell unconscious to the ground, this event probably causing a whole lot of headache when they’d wake up. If the vile beings was even capable of feeling pain in their thoughts. “Go.” the tauren simply stated, and the father who still held an axe nodded. “Come, this way!”. Due to the tauren’s menacing presence, the family could slip out of the hole the tauren had created. On her way out, the mother thanked the tauren deeply several times in Orcish, before running off with the crowd Eitrigg and Gamon was the leaders of. Whatever happened after then, the tauren does not remember. Because it was this moment that the grunt was consumed by rage, a rage that had been called anger issues ever since he was a little boy. What the tauren remember though, was his own screaming as the troggs began charging towards him, as his mace made impact with one of their heads.
  39. 1 point
    While Seven and Bae discuss their things, I just want to compliment Wedinn on the vague information given after the general preliminary informations. Vague and dismissive, while enough to keep someone interested and wanting more. Besides, who doesn't love it, when the information doesn't even come from the character, but is narrated by someone else. LUV ET!
  40. 1 point
    The last one isn't correct. It's possible to worship demons, especially higher ones like Sargeras. As for questionable ancestry, remember that half-breeds are a thing. So he could be a quarter elf or something.
  41. 1 point
    Hello, I'm ilovecats and I love cats. I saw a post on reddit advertising this server earlier today and I'm really hyped for the Dryad race. Thinking of being able to trot around with a lavender tiger by my side makes me very happy! See you on launch! I hope the idea brings many players to this realm.
  42. 1 point
    Welcome to Tales I hope you'll have fun hopping around in the woods with your kitty
  43. 1 point
    I'll leave the hoof crossing to yo- Erh, that sounds sexual.... I'll let you cross hooves with- Nope, that doesn't work either. Yes, all the hooves!
  44. 1 point
    "yo there's like, some form of old god servant issues in darkshore, we could like, idk, need all the help we can ge-" "I like cats." "... excus-" "Don't touch my cat." Welcome to Tales.
  45. 1 point
    We share your hopes, ilovecats. At least i can say so for myself. *Crosses fingers and toes*
  46. 1 point
    Bloodtotem came up with the idea of making a shorter story of our previous guild, the Winterspear Tribe's forming. We decided to do it once more in this case, to give some more eyecandy to potentially interested individuals. Orgrimmar Has Fallen, pt. 1 The wind blasted aside from the mounts of the windriders outside of Terrac’s store was what woke him up this uneventful morning. His eyes opened first in fear, then in a sigh. He had another dream of the horrific tragedy that has been called the three wars between the various races in Azeroth, and sometimes even beyond Azeroth. With a grunt, he rose himself out of the poor excuse of a bed, and looked around the room. He threw a quick grim stare to the plank in the ceiling that was only half-attached with nails, making a mental note to himself about fixing it later. His gaze then moved to the wall above his bed, and his eyes rested upon the axe that had survived all three wars, just barely. While he had a new one around, this one was his prized possession. Not because of the bloodshed it had caused, but because of the consequences it taught Terrac about bloodshed. Muttering to himself once more about that damnable plank, Terrac grabbed his usual clothes in the half-broken wardrobe, slowly pulling on the fine clothes that were his greatest pride. It consisted of a red vest and fine hard-leather pants, that were more of practical use. When he walked downstairs, everything was in its usual way, the finished products on mannequins he had built himself, albeit not the prettiest. The working table had all the different tools from yesterday also seemed normal. Large pieces of cloth was lying around the store, as well as rolls of string of various colors. A mannequin had although fallen over during the night, probably after some wind. Terrac smiled slightly to himself, and stepped over to pick it up and make it stand up once more, with a grunt or two escaping his breath. He then walked over to the locked door, and began tinkering with the annoyingly difficult lock. He really needed to get back to that filthy goblin who tricked him with this “state of technology” lock. But with a sigh, he forced the door open after having successfully opened the lock, and took a deep breath. However, something was wrong. Instead of the dry, desert air, the smell of blood, gunpowder and ash. His eyes widened to see that the city was ablaze, and was assaulted by foul creatures that he thought was chemically altered goblins, but then he realized that this were troggs. Foul creatures. As Terrac watched with horror for a moment, thoughts began flashing through his head. How did this happen? Who LET this happen? Is this the work of the Legion once more? Whatever it was, he quickly shook his head, and slammed the door, locking himself in. Thinking about what to do, Terrac realized very soon what he needed to do. With determined, rough steps, he carried himself upstairs and walked over to the wardrobe. He pulled the two doors out of the ruined piece of modified wood, and snatched his old armor from the bottom of the closet. He remembered how to equip it as if it was just yesterday he had used it, albeit a few years had passed since he dared look at the old armor. He strapped the equipment on where they were supposed to be. His chestplate on his torso, his armguards on his lower arms, and his legguards on, of course, his legs. The heavy pauldrons too found their way onto the orc’s shoulders, and after having dressed himself up for battle, he looked towards a shattered mirror on the wall, and eyed his old armor. Although Terrac does not remember his exact expression when this happened, he remember it was a pleasant expression he had on his face. Last but long from least, he looked at the axe that hung on the wall above his bed. It was way too old to be used in proper combat, so he sighed to himself and took the new axe he had bought after the Third War concluded from the bottom of the closet. It was a two-hander, and a reliable one at that. On his way downstairs, he cleaved the axe upwards, and cut the loose end of the plank in the ceiling, and walked downstairs. Terrack narrowed his eyes, and when he had gathered his strength, he charged forth with a battle cry, cutting into the old lock that barely kept the door in place, forcing it opened as he charged out. War had once more caught up to the veteran, and he was ready to to give it full hell.
  47. 1 point
    Morph Rules & guidelines. Here on Tales of Warcraft, we maintain a Morph system, intended to allow players to roleplay using a number of races outside of the standard ones on the character selection screen., Detailed below will be a list of available races as well as several guidelines and rules to help clarify this system . Current available morphs. Current available morphs are as follows, more morphs will be added in future patches. Dryad Keeper of the Grove Forest Nymph Centaur, Male and Female Broken Male Sin’dorei(Blood Elves) Quel’dorei(High Elves) Naga, Male and Female Harpies Gnolls Goblins, Male and Female Ogres, one head and two headed variants Forsaken/Scourge male Warrior and Mage Sayaad(Succubi) Purple, White and Classic variants. Felguard Imp Satyr(Red Skin, Brown Fur. Blue skin, Purple fur.) Kobolds Reference screenshots below. How to get your Morph In order to have a morphed character, you must make a thread requesting the morph under Staff Private Discussion, wherein you will be asked to put down a brief description of the character’s appearance and if that character intends to break from their factional mold in their backstory. If a ST has questions regarding your application they may ask you here - otherwise or if your application is all good it will be approved and locked by a ST. When it is approved you may make a ticket in game to be given your morph. Example application below. Thread Name: Tes’Nag the Exampler Name: Tesnag Morph: Blue Naga Background ( 2 Paragraph Limit ): Naga stolen from clutch at birth during the Third War and raised by a Goblin who sought to gain an advantage and high profit by having it steal from shipwrecked vessels. Has no knowledge of Azshara and has a distaste for their own kind due to their upbringing and tutoring. Notes Morphs in Tales of Warcraft are handled through custom spells rather than previous projects custom display ID’s - as such it is mechanically impossible to ask for a morph not on this list. Characters are not to be granted unique powers or abilities due to their morph OR backstory. Each morph player character is assumed to be at a comparable strength level to any of the other playable characters in regards to their ‘power level’. A Keeper of the Grove player does not inherently gain more power than a Kaldorei Druid player. Characters must have justification if they intend to break from their races ‘stereotypes’ significantly through giving an In-Universe example of another group of their race breaking that mold. Individuals that broke off the beaten track aren’t enough. A Gnoll player could bring up the “Mean Streets of Gadgetzan” Gnoll’s to justify a Gnoll sharpshooter while a Demon player could not bring up Lothraxion to justify playing as a Demon Paladin. Naga and other to-be-added Aquatic morphs can be given swim speed and water breathing on request Equestrian based morphs such as Keepers of the Grove, Dryads and morphs that cannot use mounts may be given the spell ‘Boar's Speed’ on request to account for their movement speed. All Morphs will be given the ‘Smash Mammoth Trap’ and ‘Hold Rifle’ spells in order to allow them some rudimentary control of their characters animations ( Considering that many of these morphs are rather bare-boned in comparison to normal races. ) High Elves will have the racial ‘Magic Resistance’ in place of their old one. Naga do not have the box on their head normally - that is just a visual bug Naga Female, Broken Male, Male & Female Sin/Quel'dorei and Goblins all have functioning Geosets - a technical term meaning that armor will appear on them!
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    If I have time, I'd definitely be up for forum rp. If needed, I can create a subforum for forum RP. Just not right now
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    Terrac Thunderfront "Apart we will fall! Together, we, are, Horde!" Name: Terrac "Thunderfront" Gender: Male Race: Blackrock Orc Age: 49 Afiliation: The Horde Remnants Occupation: Soldier, (formerly) Grunt Alignment: Lawful Good General Having been itching for partaking in war since birth, Terrac always had respect for those who fought with honor and determination. So when he grew up with a weapon in hand, he was shocked to see how his world was turned into a pale shadow of its former self, doomed by the newly arrived "fel" magic, that took the life from the planet itself. Enforced by law, Terrac fought in all three wars, scarred with hatred for those who fought like cowards and slaughtered people who couldn't fight back. Eventually, he settled down and became a grunt when the nation of Orgrimmar had been formed, as he was done with this senseless slaughter of the unarmed. There was no reason for it, they wasn't involved in the conflict. In the end, being the grunt took a toll on Terrac's health, until he resigned and began life as a leatherworker. He liked this profession quite a bit, to the point that when Orgrimmar was mysteriously attacked from within, he was so enraged to find a trogg ripping the clothing off from one of his shelves. An axe was raised, and a head was split, as the trogg fell to the ground, dead and lifeless. Soon, Terrac emerged from his shop with his old armor, and his trusted axe. Proudly following Gamon and Eitrigg's attempt to rescue the civillians, the old orc cleaved many troggs who tried to harm the innocent people in this conflict, as they had nothing to add to the conflict, only blood. He proudly says himself that he managed to cleave down nine troggs and save five civillians from the vile beings from the Ragefire Chasm, and he emerged from the gates of Orgrimmar with a proud stride, knowing he had done his best to save as many as he could. After the retreat from Razor Hill to the Crossroads, Terrac began seeing that the Horde was nearly broken, only one more push from another faction, and in his eyes, the Horde would fall. Therefor, Terrac has now pledged himself to the cause of collecting the shattered pieces of the Horde, and set them together so they may once more take back their glorious capital. The troggs didn't deserve such a fantastic city to call their home.