#battle for orgrimmar

[azerothtravel]

A Hero's Funeral, Orgrimmar, September 24, 2019.

[aconknight]

Durotar's quiet was like no other, Orizhki thought. Neither night nor morning, but the starry, early moment when the sky opened wide and the wind swept the heat from the ground. When you could dig your toes into the dirt and hear the land north of Sen'jin awaken, begin to sing: the snuffling of boars, the breeze through the silverleaf, and, far away, the slow wash of ocean water across the beach.

When she had been small, her sister had taken her up onto these hills and turned her chin up to the sky. Long years and distance lay between them now, but out here now Orizhki thought she could all but feel her sister's calloused fingers on her cheek, smell her furs and leathers and peacebloom tea.

It was sobering, really. As a child, her sister had stood so tall in Orizhki's eyes that she had served as her north star. Nowadays Orizhki had to wonder what it was that made grown-ups shine like giants in children's eyes, if there was perhaps some magic that the rest had forgot to teach her. She felt lost and unequal to each task that passed between her hands, and she lay awake at night wondering if she was still a child herself underneath it all, understanding nothing.

"Mom?"

Orizhki stirred from her thoughts and looked down. Garrlok had come over to her knee, his one eye turned up to her.

He, too, slept little. A year ago he had come to Orizhki as a foundling from Brackenwall, and none from the Stonemaul clan knew who had left him in the marsh. Matron Battlewail had sent a missive to her about the boy, knowing then — as did most of the tribe, the busybodies — that Orizhki was childless.

"He cannot sleep at night and sneaks out to read, much like someone I used to know," she had written, underlining someone in a long, dark slant that ticked up towards the end. "It has been some time since you took a wife. Krog and Draz'Zilb remember your brave deeds and have asked for you by name. Come and meet the boy."

They had sent the Brackenwall flightmaster, Shardi, up with the child by wind rider, and she had lingered in Orgrimmar to speak with Orizhki and the matron. It was Shardi who had sewn Garrlok his little book, a colorful replica of a mage's tome with a quilted cover and a handful of embroidered linen pages. Garrlok had been using it as a pillow when Orizhki had first arrived at the orphanage.

"I would take him in myself, if I had the means," Shardi had said regretfully over a steaming cup of tea; she and Orizhki had walked to Miwana's Longhouse that day to talk out of earshot of the little ones. "He likes magic, Orizhki. He keeps insisting that poor Tosamina read him the same story about the ogre magi and the magic wolf night after night."

"I know that one," Orizhki had told her. "My sister told me it many a time herself."

Shardi had given her a knowing look. "Maybe it's faaaaate."

"You just want a lok'amon to sing."

"Faaaaaate, Orizhki!"

"But maybe it's not fate," Orizhki had said. "Surely Ekinka and I are too young to be mothers — too young, too stupid. Are there no ready women in the Marsh?"

"You know the plight of the Stonemaul," Shardi had said, and her earlier playfulness had faded with a shake of her head. "And with all those spiders near, well, you've seen them."

"Mm."

"Zanara swears she's seen them make a meal out of a grown orc. Garrlok would be just a snack."

Orizhki had still not forgotten those marsh spiders. She had faced demons, the dead, and dragons all in battle, yet it was those stupid darkmist spiders that woke her in the night. She wondered from time to time if Garrlok had seen them, too; if they crept into his dreams, too. It had been a year since she and Ekinka had taken the boy in, and he still struggled to sleep.

It was why she had thought to take him up on the hills just outside Razor Hill at this hour to see the stars. The two had flown out on her magic carpet, Garrlok still with his plush book, oft-mended and faded by use, but Orizhki had to hold him by the hand until they had touched down safely to the ground. Once he had clung to her leg everywhere they had gone, his face buried in the fur of her boots. Now he had already scampered up the rocks.

"I can get all the way up this rock!" he called back to her now, waving. "And this one, Hand-Mom! And this one!"

"Be careful, kiddo," Orizhki said. She sent her staff up ahead and closed the distance between Garrlok and her with a few moments of careful climbing.

"And this one!"

He was bouncing in place when she gained the topmost rock and drew level with him, more slowly now. For all the knowledge and wisdom of age, her knees had nothing on his.

"Everyone's asleep!" he told her excitedly, pointing at the roofs visible below them. "They're all beddy-bye. Like Song-Mom."

They had first taught Garrlok to tell them apart when he needed to by their clans; Ekinka with the Warsong and Orizhki herself with the Shattered Hand.

"They are indeed all in bed, Song-Mom included." Orizhki said. She knelt to rub a smudge from his cheek with her thumb. "She's been very sleepy lately. You've been very good to not wake her up to play with you while she's resting."

"She's sad sometimes," Garrlok said. He looked down at his feet, raised a chubby little hand to touch Orizhki's own. "It makes me sad too."

"I know, peanut. Sometimes grown-ups are sad," Orizhki said quietly. She moved her hand from his cheek to his chin, and gently turned his face back up again. "But it's okay to be sad. Look, all of the stars are out tonight."

"Wow ..."

She let him slip out of her hands and look up, up, up to the violet stretch of stars.-

"You know," she said, settling a bit more on the hill, "I once fell down one of these hills when I was small myself. Tore up my leggings and both my knees. Gave my sister a right scare."

"Your sister Takta?"

"Mhm."

He was still looking around. "Was she mad?"

"No. No, she was proud. Takta said that I could only fall down that far because I made it up the rock further than I had ever done before."

"Like me!"

"Yes. Like you." Orizhki smiled, though it still brought her a measure of pain. "Okay, well, maybe she was a bit mad about the leggings. But you can't let leggings stand between you and adventure, Garrlok."

"Was Song-Mom mad?"

"No, I didn't know your other mom then."

She watched him walk a few steps with his head bent back, gazing at the peaks and clouds about them.

"We're up so high, Mom," he said in wonder.

"You bet we are," she said. "This is the best place in the world."

He beamed at her, all sorrows quite forgotten. "We can see everything from up here!"

"Oh, kiddo," she said. "Yeah. You bet we can."

[wyrmguardsecrets]

I get RP partners for the purpose of doing their personal storyline. Fuck having sex. Lemme get into your backstory. You’re my romanceable companion, motherfucker. Let me kill that vampire lord you’ve been building up for the last eight months of RP after a climatic battle. Let me make a daring escape from the guards as I smuggle you into Stormwind or Orgrimmar or whatever.

.

[blue-eyed-banshee]

I'm rewatching the Sylvanas Shattered legacy cinematic and I find myself wondering what some of the conversations that RG Sylvanas and Banshee queen Sylvanas share with one another. No doubt it would include Jaina! Banshee queen letting it slip that she wanted to raise her (Jaina) into undeath to rule at her side and RG Sylvanas just being... appalled at the thought. And yes, I think she would have had that thought at some point especially during the battle of undercity. I'm also thinking about the siege of Orgrimmar cinematics. Sylvanas would want to try to talk to Jaina desperately and try to get her to understand that not everyone in the horde is like Garrosh but.... she's blinded by what happened with Theramore that she insults Sylvanas to her core- something she only shared with her. Of course, Jaina wouldn't take it back- not when she's that angry and freshly filled with hatred for the Horde. I'd like to think... that's when the two went their separate ways because Sylvanas can't bear to see Jaina do this to herself. Just as she couldn't bear to see Arthas purge an ENTIRE town. That would obviously strike a chord within Jaina. How could it not after all she's been through? For a split second, Jaina would come to her senses. But what's done is done.

Sylvanas wouldn't hold anything against Jaina, of course. Not after how wanted to help but everyone was watching her every move. Jaina, on the other hand, she would feel remorse at what she said to Sylvanas. Which is probably something that really strikes Sylvanas to her core. I'm not saying Jaina would compared her to Arthas, because she knows better. But... all I think of, she would mention what if the Horde had kill Lirath. That would be like a dagger in the back for Sylvanas. And Jaina instantly regrets it as soon as she said it. But she can't take it back.

Eventually, Jaina would grow out of that hatred within her heart and when she reunited with Sylvanas, she felt so guilty that she wasn't sure if Sylvanas would want to even start over with her. But to her surprise, Sylvanas forgave her which would cause her to break down within the undead high elf's arms.

[alchemyofazeroth]

Horde Alchemy & Medical Practice

The practice of alchemy and healing arts among the Horde in the city of Orgrimmar is a rich tradition with deep roots in orc, tauren, and troll culture, with more scientific contributions from the Forsaken.

Horde alchemists in the capital city specialize in brewing powerful elixirs, potions, and balms using natural ingredients gathered from across Durotar and beyond. Their concoctions can mend grievous battle wounds, cure lethal poisons, enhance strength and endurance, and even grant mystical visions. The most skilled among them are also versed in transmutation, using their craft to transform base metals into precious gold and create rare gems imbued with potent enchantments.

Orgrimmar's healers, who often work in tandem with the city's alchemists, are renowned for their ability to treat injuries and illnesses using a combination of medicinal herbs, spiritual magic, and shamanistic rituals. Many specialize in treating the unique ailments and afflictions that plague the various races of the Horde. The knowledge and techniques of Orgrimmar's alchemists and healers is often fiercely guarded, passed down through many generations via oral traditions and secret grimoires. Yet in times of war, they act as a bulwark for the city's defenders, ensuring the warriors of the Horde fight at peak strength and return home safely to their families.

Orcish Alchemy

The alchemy practiced by the Horde is a complex and esoteric tradition that blends shamanistic magic with the study of herbs, minerals, and anatomical components of beasts. This ancient craft has been honed over generations, with knowledge passed down from master to apprentice through a rigorous process of training and initiation.

Orcish alchemists employ a wide array of ingredients harvested from the untamed wilds, from the venom of giant serpents to the pulverized bones of ancient behemoths. Through elaborate rituals and precise formulation, they concoct potent elixirs, deadly toxins, and mutagenic substances that can enhance physical attributes or induce terrifying transformations.

The orcish practice of alchemy is deeply intertwined with the spiritual beliefs and warrior culture of the Horde, with the most revered alchemists serving as trusted advisors to civilian and battle-shaman alike. Despite being sometimes regarded as primitive and savage by outsiders, the alchemical arts of the Orcs have produced some of the most sophistcated and formidable substances known to the races of Azeroth.

Shu'halo Alchemy

The practice of alchemy and ethnomedicine among the Tauren of Azeroth has a rich history dating back centuries. Shu'halo alchemists combine their deep knowledge of herbalism and natural remedies with shamanistic rituals and spiritual practices. They view alchemy as a sacred art, harnessing the power of the Earth Mother to craft potions, salves, and elixirs imbued with restorative and enhancing properties.

Traditional shu'halo medicine encompasses the traditional healing practices and medicinal knowledge passed down through generations of their culture. This ancient system takes a holistic approach to health, viewing the mind, body, and spirit as interconnected. Shu'halo healers, often shamans or druids, employ a wide range of natural remedies derived from the flora and fauna native to Mulgore. Herbal infusions, poultices, and sacred rituals are used to treat various ailments and restore balance to the patient. The shu'halo also place great importance on preventative care, using spiritual practices like meditation and communion with the Earth Mother to maintain wellbeing. Deeply rooted in their connection to nature, tauren medicine reflects their reverence for the living world and its cycles of life, death and rebirth.

Interestingly, some shu'halo alchemists have turned their attention to the undead Forsaken, seeking ways to reverse or mitigate the effects of the undead curse through alchemical means. This controversial line of research aims to restore a measure of life and vitality to the undead, granting them a renewed sense of purpose and a place within the cycle of nature. However, such attempts are viewed with suspicion and derision by many among the Forsaken, who embrace their undead state and view the Tauren's efforts as misguided at best, and a threat to their identity at worst. Despite the challenges and opposition they face, these intrepid alchemists persist in their studies, driven by a deep compassion and a belief in the potential for redemption and renewal, even for those who have passed beyond the veil of death.

Darkspear Alchemy

The Darkspear trolls, a tribe native to Stranglethorn Vale, have long practiced voodoo, a spiritual and mystical art that draws upon the power of loa. Central to Darkspear voodoo are rituals involving ceremonial masks, dances, chants, and the creation of voodoo dolls as a means to commune with the loa , curry their favor, or use their power to heal, protect, or harm. Voodoo priests concoct elixirs and potions from various natural ingredients in a manner paralleling alchemy.

Both voodoo and alchemy involve transmuting and mixing ingredients according to precise recipes and rituals to create substances with magical effects. Alchemy relies more on scientific knowledge of how certain ingredients interact, while voodoo potions derive their power from the spirits invoked during their creation. Despite these different sources of power, both voodoo and alchemy represent an advanced understanding of herbalism, medicine, and how to harness natural materials to evoke supernatural effects.

Beyond this, little is known about voodoo, as the trolls are reluctant to share such knowledge with outsiders.

Forsaken Alchemy

The Forsaken, a faction of undead who have broken free from the Lich King's control, have a complex history and culture shaped significantly by the practice of alchemy. The origins of the Forsaken lie in the aftermath of the Third War, when the Lich King's grasp on his undead minions began to wane. Under the leadership of Sylvanas Windrunner, a group of undead regained their free will and established the Forsaken, seeking to forge their own destiny in the face of hostility and mistrust from the living.

Alchemy has played an integral role in Forsaken society from the beginning. As a people who are neither living nor dead in the traditional sense, the Forsaken rely on alchemical mixtures and concoctions to sustain their undead bodies and prevent decomposition. Alchemy is also crucial for developing toxins, plagues, and biological weapons that form a key part of the Forsaken's military strategy and defense against their enemies. The Royal Apothecary Society, led by Master Apothecary Faranell, is a prestigious and powerful institution within Forsaken culture dedicated to the study and advancement of alchemy and its applications. The prevalence of alchemy has shaped Forsaken society, with many of their greatest minds devoted to the craft and alchemical wares and ingredients forming a significant part of their economy.

[bronzeandsage]

For any applicable character of choice, Wednesday Asks; IC: "Is it possible to truly forgive and forget?"

Noell leaned on the black iron chain of the tower as she surveyed the Valley of Strength, her purple eyes idly taking note of everything happening. Which was not a lot of anything and yet she still felt a prickling on the back of her neck seeing the wyverns flying by with the heavy tolling of the hourly gong. Four strikes.

One.

Howls of rage and hatred echoed in the air, a battle cry raging in the chaos of the burning of the Eversong. The Horde had come to Quel'thalas and they had brought the horrors of this war to their shores. A babe in a mother's arms, the sight of the burning trees were etched in a child's mind and heart. A flight to the capital to escape these monsters.

Two.

Howls of hunger and pain echoed in the air, a despairing cry echoing through the wastes of was the beautiful world she had grown up in. The ground was grey, the water turned to spit, and her people rising to kill those they loved. A girl growing up so fast to escape the end of the world as her world tried to tear her limb from limb.

Three.

Howls of the fallen and Scourge echoed in the air, a triumphant rally cry thundering throughout the ruined Ghostlands. Her sword flashed with new found power as she pressed on with comrades into the fray. Blood Knights, decked in crimson and gold, filled with the power of their people as they called forth the Light to destroy the ruinous creatures of their home. A woman fighting for a world that was theirs and would let no monster take it from them ever again.

Four.

Howls of the mournful and broken-hearts echoed in the air, the betrayed cry of a people who had put so much faith into one man. The Prince had betrayed them all. The well though corrupted and purged again was now blessed by a power they had all abused to the death of an immortal being. Guilt was as heavy as the past years they had watched the world end and start again. A soldier now stood as strong as she could despite a heart that was heavy with shame.

There was a thunk to her armored shoulder as Noell snapped back awake, her eyes blinking quickly as she stood up straight to come back to the present. Tugging at her red tabard, the woman would look to her right to find Nianani holding a steaming clay cup to her.

"Ya alrite dere?" The Zandalari would question with a tilt of her head, the cup gently taken away by her partner.

Noell just nodded and took a sip of the dark sludge within. Dark, rich, and bitter, reminded her of a lot of things she didn't want to admit. "Just dreaming."

There was an understanding nod in return as Nianani took a sip of her own. Lowering the cup down, she would speak again as she was never afraid to share with anyone. "Ya want ta talk bout it?"

There was a moment where she felt like she could unload it all. Doubts, fears, prejudices, and the shame of it all. But that wasn't the way. And it definitely wasn't the way of the sin'dorei. You dealt with your own problems. They were stronger than that.

Noell shook her head. Nianani nodded again as they both went back to watching the orange and purple skies of the Horde capital. Orgrimmar's finest.

@susan-gampre

[sekhisadventures]

Loren Fullmoon, Timelost Worgen Survivalist

Important Stories:

The Timelost Worgen: While out foraging for food in the ruins of what was once Westfall, a temporal anomaly launches Loren and her two avian companions out of her own timeline into the Titan's timeline.

Culture Shock: Waking on the Isle of Dorn, Loren and several other timelost refugees make their way to Dornogal. Upon encountering Jaie Swiftpaw she meets Nelen, who she immediately recognizes as her cousin from Gilneas.

Wolves of Different Breeds: Loren and Nelen share a drink together in Dornogal as she makes one thing perfectly clear: she has no intention of willingly going back to her home timeline.

Race: Worgen (Infected Gilnean)

Class: Survivalist

Eye Color: Green

Birthplace: Gilneas

Residence: Currently Homeless

Abilities:

Survivalist: In her own timeline Loren has survived the end of the world. She is an expert at foraging and using any prey animals to their utmost, perhaps even moreso than Sekhi.

Varied Arsenal: Loren has knowledge of making alchemical bombs and poisons and is skilled with both the spear and a bowgun. She is a very versatile fighter able to adapt quickly to many situations.

Morri and Suranol: Her two companions. Morri is a Gilnean raven that she has kept as a pet for years, but is perfectly capable of pecking a foe's eyes out see if he don't. Suranol is a somnowl who was the companion of a Night Elf she had known in her home timeline who was one of the victims of the War of Thorns. She took Suranol in after his former partner perished in Teldrassil's destruction.

History

Loren is another of the timelost, those who were torn from their home timelines into the Titan's Timeline... but unlike the others she has no desire to go back!

In her own timeline both Anduin Wrynn and Sylvannas Windrunner perished at the siege of the Undercity following the War of Thorns, and after this the Blood War escalated beyond the point of no return.

With the death of King Wrynn, along with Genn Greymane and Alleria Windrunner, the leadership of Stormwind fell to a hastily formed council of nobles who saw the Horde as nothing but barbarians worthy only of extermination.

Working with several magi and Jaina Proudmoore, who for whatever reason had not been present at the Undercity in this timeline, they recreated Garrosh's mana bomb... but far more powerful. They unleashed it upon Orgrimmar, but the results were more than any had expected.

The blast had cratered not just the city but much of Durotar and the explosion had caused a chain reaction. Earthquakes shook the land, storms erupted, hidden wells of azerite ignited, and when the dust settled that was all that remained... dust. The Alliance and Horde were no more, the world decimated by a cataclysm worse than even Deathwing's efforts could have hoped for.

Loren was one of the few survivors left to eke out an existence in the ruins, until one day a temporal anomaly threw her out of her timeline into the Titan's Timeline.

In her own timeline her cousin Nelen Fullmoon had gone missing after Gilneas fell to the worgen, but in the Titans Timeline he was alive and well, and battling a rouge chronomancer named Nyloc Athel. Nyloc unleashed a powerful relic of the Bronze Dragonflight, but his misuse of it caused a paradox that tore at the timelines and pulled several others from their home timelines into the Titan's Timeline. Loren being one of them.

Trivia

Loren is based off another of my Supernatural Adventures characters by the same name. In that story she's part of a family of monster hunters based out of Ireland, Clan Fullmoon. Ironically enough the clan is known as that because they specialized in hunting werewolves, whereas in this universe she is a werewolf.

In the chapter Wolves of Different Breeds, Loren makes reference to other relatives she and Nelen shared in Gilneas named Stephanie, Franklin, and Roger. These are also characters from Supernatural Adventures which would imply that Clan Fullmoon exists both on Earth and Azeroth in a parallel fashion. One day I might explore this further...

[omgkalyppso]

thinking of these sections of my borgakh x lor'themar fic (781 words) (set during mists of pandaria)

Lor'themar sat up, crossing his legs. "Did you know we were concerned that you might not wake at all? Or that you may wake as an agent of Garrosh? But when I saw you ... I knew that feeling. That determination that persists through being broken. When I lost my eye, I failed to lose consciousness and had to become very intimate with that feeling."

Borgakh shifted uncomfortably. "I suppose my injuries must seem trivial to you."

"Not in the least," Lor'themar assured her warmly. "You've hard earned this battle-scar, and I am relieved that this is all it will be."

There was a pause in conversation. Borgakh found it comforting, and moved to swing her legs over the side of her cot. She blushed heavily, her bare legs stretched out next to a leader of a nation.

"I imagine your family will be too?" he asked.

"What?" she answered, nearly incredulous.

"That you're alive. Scarred, but not exactly worse for wear so far. I imagine your family will be relieved."

Borgakh thought of the few faces she knew in Orgrimmar, wondered at their safety, and shuddered; her head shaking as she assured Lor'themar, "I don't think anyone will really be waiting for news about me. Certainly not anyone I'd call family."

Lor'themar opened his mouth as if to speak, but shifted his shoulders and looked away before settling upon, "That's awfully sad."

She could tell that he meant it, and shrugged. "As far as I know, you're hardly different. You must confess a certain freedom comes with knowing that an army could go on without you."

"There's more to living than what we contribute to a battlefield," he answered skeptically.

She pursed her lips; a hopeless expression. "For me there is only the Horde, and if how it will have me is on a battlefield, then that is all that I am." She looked away from him, sheepish. "You realize I could never have expected to stay in Halfhill. I could never be a farmer, or an engineer, even a cook. The Horde needs these resources, but that is not how I can fulfill my duty to my people, or my promise to you."

"You cannot live on a front line," he said critically.

"Then I will die there," she agreed, meeting his eye. "I know this. Just as you must have, once. Your soldiers do." She sighed, "But perhaps your people have the privilege of time, and can expect that if they simply crush that threshold, the remainder of their days can be spent in the walls of Silvermoon or somewhere else far away. Every home I've ever had has been a battlefield. If anyone will ever miss me, it will be in the context of war."

"I admit, if you had fallen yesterday, I probably would have thought of you that way."

The way Lor'themar spoke, Borgakh could tell that he was ashamed of this admission, but she wasn't hurt by his words. This made it all the more surprising when he shifted his hand to rest atop hers between them. Reacting, she clenched her opposite fist, but took a moment to breathe and appreciate the warm comfort he offered.

"But I'd like to know you better."

.

"You needn't worry about your position. You've been indispensable."

She smiled sadly, and it broke his heart a little that she remained so unconvinced. He shook his head, forcing the emotion away as he asked, "What makes you feel as though anyone else here is more worthy in their presence?"

Borgakh looked away, obviously ashamed. "Their birth mostly. I always hate intruding. I'm sure you can understand why I might feel that way ... about orcs intruding."

Their eyes met and Lor'themar relived a lot of the past thirty years, but amidst all the tragedy he could recall, he couldn't begin to imagine being a child, a young girl, in Gul'dan's horde. Her arms were crossed upon the table. He considered reaching out to touch her, but decided to lean on one of his own elbows instead, allowing her her space.

"Yes," he said calmly, "I can understand. But don't forget: you were invited." Her expression changed only slightly, but it was genuine and a small blessing. "Not all of our actions need to be a reflection of our peoples. You're right not to forget. But somewhere in between ..."

"Remember the Sunwell?" she offered sympathetically in Thalassian.

"Exactly," he said with a laugh, ending in a curse, "by the Light."

"Did I say it right?" Borgakh asked cautiously, moving a finger up in front of her mouth as she rested her hand upon her chin.

"No, no," Lor'themar assured her. "It was perfect."

[jainaism]

Prejudice towards Jaina №5356 "She switches several times from i hate the horde to it's garrosh to i hate the horde"

Jaina doesn't forgive the horde neither after the explosion of Theramore, nor after the trial of Garrosh.

“You do not know my heart anymore, Thrall,” she said. “I am no butcher—but I will no longer call for peace at any cost. The Horde you do not lead is dangerous and must be challenged at every turn—and defeated. Then, perhaps, there can be peace. But not before.” I’m not what I was—I don’t burn for vengeance anymore. But… neither am I the woman who longed so much for harmony between the Horde and the Alliance. There… can’t be harmony, Kalec. Not while Garrosh leads the Horde, not after what he has done. I don’t believe peace is the answer anymore. - tow

When she's asked to become a leader of Kirin Tor, Jaina doesn’t know what to do, since it's extremely difficult to be neutral in this situation, but she agrees, while fighting her anger every day.

What if the Horde killed your friends? Your family? Destroyed everything your had. Could you maintain your conviction even then? To be honest, I struggle. Every. Day. Every day, the hard decisions. Every night… the nightmares. But I have a responsibility to preserve the Kirin Tor. - Jaina, mop

Nobody dislikes Garrosh more than me. I wrestle with my anger every day. Anduin, you know more than anyone, it's important to separate the Horde from its people. The Sunreavers still operate within this city. Alliance and Horde work together.  As long as we stay above the war, then there's hope for the world as a whole.  I see our city as a beacon of light, showing the way. If we can trust one another here, then there's hope for the rest of the world. - Jaina, mop.

However, despite this, the sunreavers have a different opinion. They help the horde steal the divine bell from Darnassus, another artifact that could set off a hundred Theramors across the Azeroth. Jaina finds out about it, it enrages her, she losts the shit. That's where her patience ends, and she's learned her lesson.

For too long, I have toiled to mend fences between Alliance and Horde. Time and time again, I've given the Horde the benefit of the doubt - and time and time again, they stab me in the back. I resude to be betrayed again! If the hode intends to use the Kirin Tor as a weapon against the alliance, then they have no place in Dalaran. I've decided. Certain members of the Kirin-Tor have put their allegiance to the Horde above the order, and I will NOT tolerate it. This is nothing short of a betrayal. - Jaina, mop.

The Kirin Tor was betrayed from within. I've handled the situation. You're fooling yourself. Once Horde, always Horde. I see that now. - Jaina, mop.

This has been the worst year of my life: Theramore, destroyed. And a betrayal from within the Kirin Tor. The lesson is clear. From here on out, I'm taking the initiative. - Jaina, mop.

Next, there is a skirmish between the horde and alliance and zandalari. Jaina orders the alliance to switch from the horde to the trolls, and when she and Lor-Themar decide to part peacefully, Vereesa remains unhappy, and Jaina in the one who discourages her ardor, saying that "this battle will not bring her husband back."

During the siege, Jaina wants to first make Garrosh suffer and then kill him, while she just proposes to dismantle the horde, because she saw the possibility of another betrayal. However, Varian is against this, and Jaina, although disappointed, agrees to make peace with the horde.

During Garrosh's trial, Jaina wants him to receive the punishment he deserves, but Kalecgos reproaches her for this and is afraid that after this she will not stop. This upsets Jaina because she has become very attached to him - and mind you, when he was in trouble, she helped him no matter what, and he is just an asshole here. When Tyrande asks her if she would become the same as the horde if she washed away Orgrimmar, Jaina replies that the horde is on Garrosh. Because she keep separeting the horde and its people from Garrosh.

At the end of the book, she is seriously injured, and the Red Crane gives her and everyone else a blessing (temporary), thanks to which she feels herself calm and silently reconciles with Thrall, although they do not become friends again. She doesn't forgive the horde, but also she doesn't see every single orc or elf as pure evil.

Conclusion: “the horde is not garrosh,” Jaina thought exactly that throughout the entire MoP, the only difference being that she stopped giving the horde a “second chance” and began to see it for what it really is. While she wants to kill Garrosh, she despises the rest of the horde, continues to blame it for the destruction of Theramore, does not trust it, punishes traitors, etc, but at the same time she goes into negotiations, stops Vereesa from the battle and only offers dismentle the horde, and not kill every single orc. She releases the elves and prisons to Silvermoon. Jaina helps the horde player, albeit reluctantly, strengthen the ring, and then runs along the broken shore with the alliance and the horde. And everything was fine until the horde betrayed the alliance again, which caused another wave of indignation from Jaina. She didn't forgive the horde then, keep blame them for Theramore and mistrust them because of it, but doesn't want to kill them all as she wanted to kill Garrosh.

The only problem here writing. This story is not well written because Golden sucks, making Jaina too soft, like in dumb Disney movies, but generally acceptable.

[azeroth-times-newspaper]

Meet The Staff: Kalimeris Embersong

Meet Kalimeris Embersong, affectionately known as Kali, a highly esteemed combat medic and emergency medicine specialist who currently serves as the Chief of Search and Rescue for the Sunfury Battalion. Decorated with numerous medals from various specialized forces involved in both diplomacy and battle, Kali takes pride in her Argent Crusade Medical Cross and Sash of the Red Dragonflight. However, beyond the accolades, Kali values the bonds formed while working alongside fellow medics and witnessing the recovery of her patients. While she continues to actively participate in missions, Kali's primary focus is her role as the Chief Medical Officer for the Azeroth Healers Association. This organization is committed to supporting and training medical personnel, irrespective of faction. Additionally, Kali dedicates time to seeing patients in the surgical wing of the Sunfury Spire Infirmary. Her latest undertaking involves spearheading the Orgrimmar Health Service, an initiative aimed at providing medical assistance to Horde and neutral faction citizens who may lack access to other healthcare services. Expanding her reach, Kali has partnered with Azeroth Times to disseminate valuable medical information derived from her research and studies to the masses. Through her multifaceted career, Kali continues to exemplify a commitment to both healing and community service.

[rechief]

The things I miss

Before I played Final Fantasy XIV, I played World of Warcraft for a long time -- from when it was in beta (!!) until the first patch of Warlords of Draenor, when I jumped ship because that expansion was bad. I then washed up on the shores of Eorzea, and, aside from a brief return trip to check out Legion, that's where I've been ever since, happily slaying gods, gambling at the Gold Saucer, and fishing. A lot.

But in -- well, not the same way, obviously, but in what I'd like to think is a similar way to how a refugee might pine for home even though they know they can't go back there anymore, I do sometimes miss WoW. It was my first MMO and, even though I'm far too used to XIV's cozy community and the level of care that Naoki Yoshida and his team have put into their work to ever truly make a return to Azeroth, I have a lot of fond memories of my time with the game. The WoW-nostalgia has been hitting me particularly hard lately, so I thought I'd put some of those memories here, if only to get them out of my skull.

I miss the music. Of course, XIV has an excellent soundtrack, and its principal composer, Masayoshi Soken, continually cranks out blood-pumping boss battle themes and superb arrangements of past FF songs -- but there's something truly special about the best of WoW's music that no other MMO has been able to capture. The quiet grace of the Valley of the Four Winds; the mournful majesty of the Storm Peaks; the mystery and awe of the Isle of Thunder; the fierce pride of Orgrimmar -- I wouldn't associate these emotions with those zones as strongly as I do if it weren't for the background music setting the tone. WoW's soundtrack is one of many things that made each new area you discovered feel mysterious and important, as if you really were exploring Azeroth mile by mile and mapping it out for the benefit of posterity, and it's always my go-to when I'm writing and I need something to get me in the right mood.

I miss healing being a meaningful role. I've been a healer main since I first started playing MMOs, and have enjoyed that role in both WoW and other games -- as a rune-keeper in Lord of the Rings Online; as a nature affinity defender in City of Heroes; as a mystic in TERA -- but, even though I do still play and enjoy all four of FFXIV's healing jobs, the game's damaged-focus meta, coupled with the healers' bare-bones DPS rotations, means that I don't enjoy playing them as much. I prefer healing to be the main focus when I'm playing a healer, and I don't think any other MMO I've played has done that quite as well as WoW did. I loved the rush of seeing my entire raid's health bars dropping like so many stones and thinking, "How the hell am I going to deal with this?" I loved having to focus so much on healing that there were times I didn't even have damaging spells on my action bars. I loved having to read tooltips to see when, or even whether, I should dispel certain debuffs, and what would happen if I did. Hell, I loved having to regularly dispel debuffs! I know healing has always been an unpopular role, and, since playing XIV, I've come to enjoy tanking and dealing damage as well -- but damn do I miss the days when the incoming damage during a tough boss battle would make me sweat.

I miss expressing myself through my class. There are a lot of really cool classes (or "jobs", in that game's nomenclature) in FFXIV -- I've leveled all the combat-oriented ones to max and have enjoyed playing many of them. A lot of care is clearly put into designing their abilities and rotations, and when you're raining fire down on your enemies as a black mage, slicing and dicing them as a samurai, or cleaving through them with your greatsword as a dark knight, you really do feel powerful and in-tune with the class fantasy. In a way, though, the degree to which XIV's classes are so tightly designed is what frustrates me about them the most -- because, what with there being no talent trees or optional abilities, and with materia (XIV's equivalent of gems) being almost completely about increasing your damage rather than changing how your class feels or plays, the only thing that distinguishes, say, one red mage from another is whether they're a good or bad red mage -- not what spells they've selected or whether they're going for this or that kind of build. I know that, as the meta for a given WoW expansion settles, cookie-cutter talent selections and stat priorities proliferate -- but I loved being able to swap out one ability for another simply because I liked it better, or because I thought it looked cooler, or because it gelled better with how I liked to play. It's frustrating to consider the FFXIV classes I don't play as frequently, that I would play if I could just change them a little bit.

I miss the encounter design. I think XIV's team does a good job of designing really thrilling boss battles -- but I've long since come to accept that the game's "hardcore" content (extreme trials, savage raids, etc.) just isn't for me. These harder fights are designed principally around dealing with combinations of attacks that force your party to stand in, or move to, very specific areas of the arena over and over while still dealing as much damage as possible -- something I've heard colloquially called "the dance". While I think the coordination of XIV's hardcore raiders is really impressive, and I also think that there's something to be said for the complexity of the way the game's harder fights are designed, I just prefer the difficulty of an MMO encounter to be more focused on me playing my class well than on me remembering which marker to run to when 1,000 times over the course of 10 minutes.

I miss official add-on support. I understand why there's a blanket ban on add-ons/extensions/mods in FFXIV -- it wouldn't be fair to console players, for one thing -- and I think that the ban on DPS meters, in particular, has been tremendous for the health of the game's community. I did love customizing my UI with add-ons in WoW, though. It was wonderful not having to wait for the developers to solve a problem, because I could just download, say, an add-on that allowed me to combine all my bags into one large bag, or one that hid the ugly gryphons on either side of my action bars, or one that turned my whispers to other players into an instant-messenger-style series of windows. The creativity, ingenuity, and dedication of those who volunteer their time and expertise to develop add-ons for WoW have not only made the lives of those who make use of their work easier -- they've also developed user interface innovations that have been incorporated into WoW itself, or even other MMOs. In fact, I'd say there are a few ways that XIV's own UI owes a debt of gratitude toward not just WoW, but to its add-ons.

And finally, I miss gnomes.

They're just fun! I like lalafell too, but they aren't the same.

I'm sure if I sat here at my computer for another two hours, I could probably think of a dozen more things about which I could wax nostalgic, but that'll do for now. It would be nice if, one day, I felt like I could go back to playing WoW without getting burned by its developers once or twice an expansion or without getting called a slur by (some of!) its players once or twice a dungeon, but for now, I'll stay in Eorzea, where I'm sure I'll continue to enjoy myself -- even though there will always be things I miss.

[azerothtravel]

I Know How To Party, Orgrimmar, January 3, 2019.

[regentlord]

“ 𝐲𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧' 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧' 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧' 𝐲𝐚. ” it was an astute observation, but not without empathy. vol'jin's time in silvermoon had been relatively peaceful; it was a beautiful city. rich hues of crimson, silver, and gold went as far as the eye could see. lor'themar's hospitality had not been thankless, it was the first time in a long while that the warchief had no need to look over his shoulder ― as doubtless, there would be countless elves that had taken their places behind him.

a notion that was both charming and infuriating; charming in its compassion for him and infuriating in that he had to acknowledge his present weakness.

be that as it may, he was in no real rush to return to orgrimmar and the echo isles, regardless of how greatly he loved his home and sanctuary. but he had not yet returned to full strength and it would take some time before it would. it did, however, give him an intimate look at the regent lord's personal affairs and the burden that went along with it. lor'themar appeared deeply unhappy for someone whose city was flourishing and it was not lost on vol'jin as to why that was.

after all, lor'themar never asked for any of this.

“ why don't ya have a seat wit'me, huh? all da fancy stuff can't wait a few minutes, ya people seem to have a good handle on dis place, y'know? ” he meant it, but to comfort him was more than intentional. “ i be a good listener, lor'themar ... why don't ya tell ya ole' friend here what's got'ya so tense? ”

he knew, of course he did. it was one thing to be certain and another to ask. he had spent countless hours in the company of the elf, in caring for him. he paid greater mind to him than he would care to admit. even to himself. vol'jin wanted to help. the bindings of leadership were suffocating and even more so if they were to let them be ... lor'themar more than earned his right to peace and he deserves to know that he does.

— @throned

He does not resent his position, not anymore. There had been a time, when Kael'thas' betrayal was still fresh, that he would often curse the prince for choosing him as regent, for placing upon his shoulders a burden he himself had struggled with. Before that, Lor'themar had ofttimes judged himself unfit for the job. He was not nobility, unprepared to govern, a ranger and not a politician. The simplest reasoning, nevertheless, was the one he held locked tight within his heart: he was, if not the, certainly one of the reasons for all that befell his people. They would not have suffered so if not for his blind trust in one who didn't deserve it. How could he ever be fit to lead?

How could he ever reject that duty, when their prince appointed him as regent? He had accepted it, in no small part as much punishment as it was duty. He subject himself to it, despite his unwillingness, because it was but small suffering in comparison to all he had allowed to happen because of his affection for Dar'khan Drathir. And, with time, he learned to bear the mantle well — even if its weight remained the same throughout the years. It is not as much a punishment now, perhaps, but neither is it easy to bear. He was not made for paperwork and politics; he was made for the forest, for battle, for bleeding in defense of Quel'thalas rather than struggling with all that was required from its leader.

Looking upon his fair city, one may struggle to ascertain what troubles the Regent Lord enough for him to seldom allow himself a moment of rest. His people not only endure but finally, after years of sorrow, start to bloom and thrive. But the work is far from over; there are parts of Quel'thalas still overwhelmed by remnants of the Scourge, patches of land that won't heal. It is the people who are the hardest part, as was constantly the case.

The tension on his shoulders eases slightly at the commentary, expression relaxing in an almost smile. Vol'jin seems capable of seeing through him more easily than most others; or perhaps he is simply more willing to call out the elf for the singleminded focus on his duties, often to detriment of himself. Despite the circumstances that brought him here, Lor'themar is content with his friend's presence, much as he is glad to see him stronger every day. He has no wish to impose, on Vol'jin or any other, used to bearing his burden alone; there is no big reveal to make, no peculiar strenuous circumstance to speak of. Leading has a weight all its own.

"We will see," he says, even as he takes the offered invitation, sitting beside the other. "I'm uncertain Halduron and Rommath are capable of spending five minutes without needing me to look into some issue or another." It is jest, sharp as it may sound; he would trust them both with his life, and indeed with Quel'thalas herself, if need be. Lor'themar leans back against his seat, incapable of containing a sigh. "It is not their fault, truly. It is the nature of our works — a job that is never done."

And that wears on him greatly, though yet he would not seek respite on his own. Someone needs to do it. A tilt of the head, as golden eyes meet the troll; it is the first time in likely days that he allows himself to feel the tiredness that washes over him, in mind more so than body. "Perhaps I am simply as unfit for the role as I always believed was the case. In a single people there is so much to contend with, always..." and how can I rest if even one amongst my own cannot find rest just as easily?

That he does not say, though the thought might be more evident than Lor'themar would have desired. He does not refuse comfort out of unwillingness to receive it from the one who offers it (that there is a pull to accept it is attributed to the ease he feels in Vol'jin's presence; the way the other man is comforting by virtue of his presence alone); yet that, too, is an issue long contended with. No friend had yet convinced him he deserved rest. He thinks of the high elves in Quel'lithien, of the struggle of the Blood Knights in the Dead Scar, of the rangers spread thin to keep their land safe, of those who fell on hard times and sought shelter behind Silvermoon's walls, even without a place to stay; he doubts his peace will ever feel deserved.

"I do not know how you can make it seem so easy, Vol'jin." The admiration in his eyes is all sincere; his lips curl into a half smile. "Even when we at the Horde certainly never make anything easy."

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Why can't I play world of warcraft. What am I doing wrong. I just want to see pokemon.

It's Tuesday, they shut the servers down for maintenance during the day on Tuesdays.

Officially, it comes back online at 3pm PST, but in reality I've never seen them down past around 12pm PST.

When you start, I think you have to be at least level 5 for the battle pet stuff to become available. You need to make your way to either Stormwind or Orgrimmar, which can be a bit funky depending on which race you choose to play as (but if you choose Pandarin, you'll have to completely play through the tutorial storyline which takes you to level 10 I think, and then pick your faction).

Ask a guard for directions to the Battle Pet Master (your cursor turns into a map when you're looking at a guard), and they will have a series of easy quests available that you have to complete ONCE to activate battle pets.

After that, no matter how many characters you have, which faction they are in (Alliance vs Horde) you'll be able to immediately access Battle Pets as soon as they're created, you don't need to complete those quests ever again.

**If my information is outdated, that's exactly why- I completed the quests YEARS ago.

Oh, and if you're playing for free (It used to be free up to level 20, not sure if that's still the policy), you won't be able to access Battle Pets or the Auction House.

[blue-eyed-banshee]

Post sanctum of domination (Sylvania version)

"C-can not let him re-ach the-...."

After the Jailer went into the portal to Zerith Mortis, and Sylvanas was left literally reeling back in pain after having all her emotions restored all at once, Jaina was the only one to notice she said something. Her heart shattered at the pain she could hear with every word as if she somehow knew this was a different Sylanas than to the one she grew to hate, the one she thought of night after night since she helped her with the battle of Undercity from Viramathras.

Baine took notice at this and placed a hand on Jaina's shoulder. "Is... something wrong, Jaina?"

Jaina's brows furrow in confusion, not sure if she should believe what occurred in front of her.

"Whatever the Jailer threw at her, I felt something.... familiar." She said before her mind flashed back to when she held Sylvanas' body in her arms before Arthas pried her away.

"D-- Dalah'surfal..." A weak voice made her push against Baine and she glanced about the room to see where the voice came from.

"Jaina." The all to familiar voice of the banshee queen spoke, while the first one didn't have such a tone.

"You look different..."

There it was again, but only this time didn't have that menacing reverb so many people grew to fear, not her. She was always entranced by it.

"What?" She whispered. "That voice..."

Jaina doesn't know what compelled her to turn towards Sylvanas' unconscious state or what even made her step closer.

She slowly knelt down and turned Sylvanas over onto her back.

Here is part one!

[unpleasant-ghoul]

So. WoW Circle's BfA server. Yea, it's broken too.

UPD if you're curious but don't want to read a bedsheet's worth of my observations: broken a bit, YES! But less than Firestorm. Way less. Actually playable, really.

So: Some things are the same as on Firestorm: Two Thrall's copies inexplicably being on Echo Isles ALWAYS. Swiftclaw dying when the ride ends. Raptor ride to the Spitescales taking you anywhere but there. Fight with Zar'jira going... Not going (quest counts as done after one hit, so you don't get stuck), and voiced dialogues (Pre- and Post- battle, as well as Vol'jin's conversation with Thrall) are all jumbled. Also, Raider Jhash is still an asshole, not giving rides.

Some things are worse: Zuni, that cute blue-braided troll that you're supposed to get attached to and suffer when he dies? You won't get a chance to form attachment, dude takes off as soon as you open the quest window, so unless you want to accept now and read later, you won't be there for whatever he has to say on the way (if he even says anything here. Maybe it's like on Firestorm. Dunno. I'm a "read first, do later" type, AKA A Normal Fucking Person). Not that you'll have a reason to feel sad anyway: due to the battle with Zar'jira not going right, our blue-haired friend doesn't end up dead anyway.

Also, if you create a Zandalari char and decide to wander around your home land before going to Durotar, well, better don't die: Ol' Bwonsamdi be takin' a break from resurrection duty, chillin' in Necropolis and nowhere else (well. Maybe he's in Vol'dun too. Didn't go there. But Zuldazar and Nazmir graveyards are empty).

But! A lot of stuff is working. Way more than on the Firestorm server. In fact, nearly anything below the readmore is me being amazed at the game being actually playable.

...

So far only noticed one kind of bugged pet: water snake, it's level 0 and therefore not an available target for battling. but still, it's a live snake, not a corpse sliding on the ground.

...

The shaman DOES tell the tale here! So I guess that "talk to proceed" quests are confirmed to be WORKING!

...

Battle pets are truly renameable (on Firestorm they reverted to original names). Patrolling windriders above Orgrimmar are running in the sky instead of flying, though.

...

Zen'Taji's quest is straight up not there. Which is a pity because those plainstriders are working properly, running at low health! Another missing quest is the one where you should look form the tower for possibly drowning people. My guess is that they had same trouble as on Firestorm, disabled both quests, fixed striders but forgot to re-enable their quest and found the tower one unrepairable.

Caravan escort is there AND working, though.

Pet battle quests working too (except for the healing one).

So, there's a rough start and a bit of brokenness, but overall heaps better than Firestorm. I'm staying.

...

Waptow Twapping! There WAS no Waptow Twapping on Firestorm! I've been missing out with no idea that I was missing out! And yes. Works fine. So does capturing a Razormane (gotta go fast for that, though - it disappears pretty quickly. But I'm a Druid, so going fast is no problem).

...

Second caravan escort is... Not what I was expecting based on the first, working, one. The lead kodo is running too fast, sometimes underground, sometimes flying, and in such weird looks that despite all the speed it STILL arrives later than the caravan ones.

And the quest can't be turned in. There's a question mark on the map, but nobody/nothing in the world on that spot. At least nobody that wants to talk to me about the caravan.

...

Created a shaman. Won't be touching him for now, just thought I'd have one for later if I get tired of the druid or something. Th sham, of course, is also a male troll. With biggest tusks available, just for variety (I normally settle for medium/smaller ones).

...

That eagle thing? Worrrrking.

That centaur whose girlfriend you gotta kill for him to show up? Comes running as he should.

The other centaur quest doesn't seem to. The text implies a situation should arise in which the quest-giving orc must be kept alive until quest mod appears, but no such thing happens.

...

Aw. Brewfest's all broken. No rams for me. No mug chucking, either, but hat's at least a known bug that's not just pirate-specific.

But at least flying patrols above Orgrimmar appear to be fixed! They fly! FLY! Their windriders used to just gallop across the skies, but now they're putting those wings to use!