#capital of orcs and the horde

[wyrmguardsecrets]

[To the RPer asking about why Orgrimmar did not end up similar to Stormwind, perhaps I can help shed a little light on the question.]

A large portion of this is likely due to population statistics. According to WoWAnalytica, Moonguard has an overall population of 7.65% Horde. According to WoWRealmPopulation, there are 1248 Horde characters. Double than what WoWAnalytica suggests (approximately 16% of the realm), but still less than a fifth of the Alliance population. According to WoWProgress, you are sitting at 1085 Horde, or roughly 15% of the population. So already there is a population limit to visibility.

Once you break into race specifics, it gets worse. The vast majority of Horde players in 2024 are Blood Elves. On Moonguard they make up approximately 2.4% of the population according to WoWAnalytica. With Vulpera coming second at 2.14%. The third is a Orcs and Undead at a measly 0.47%. And it only scales downwards from there. Trolls, Zandalari, and Tauren maintain low 0.4%, Nightborne down at 0.23% and every other Horde race below 0.17%. The races most likely to inhabit Org, would classically be Trolls, Orcs, Goblins and potentially Undead, but there just aren't that many. Each Horde race's capital is also considerably more viable for their personal rp. Tauren have far more reason to be involved in Highmountain or Mulgore, than they do Org. Trolls the same with Zuldazar or Darkspear Isle (or potentially the use of outdoor raid zones). Goblins have Ratchet, Gadgetzan, and Booty Bay. Undead have what Brill (Can't really say as I don't play Undead)? As such the limited amount of Horde further segments itself. This is especially evident when you take a trip to Silvermoon, which is where you will see some MG Horde RP. With the inclusion of Void Elves, many of the Blood Elves also hopped to Alliance - which further drives traffic to Stormwind.

Then you can add the city planning element - lack of interactables, poorly designed taverns, bad overall layout that feels segmented, lack of "comfy" atmosphere. The characteristic Horde appeal in aesthetics contributes poorly to a cozy walk up scenario. Neutral cities don't really help this. There is little reason for Horde to go to Dalaran, given the Kirin Tor's arguable Alliance leaning (and even past events there).

You also have the element of polarization. Sylvanus was a major dividing factor amongst Horde players. Similar can be said of Garrosh or the introduction of Vulpera. In each case, it further divided the already splintered Horde.

As a result, the Horde RP scene is more attributed to a loose confederation of guilds and their hotspots. But take this all with a grain of salt, whilst I may RP Horde, I am more of a content player at heart.

.

[wowtalesofadventurers]

OC tober a drink at the inn

A World of Warcraft fanfiction featuring some of my Horde ocs for @thepromptfoundry event OC tober day 21 enjoying a nice drink and day 22 taking a well-earned break.

At the capital of the Horde known as Orgrimmar, the five adventurers of Viivogicha the Tauren paladin, Gramakk the orc warrior, Exoshin the Goblin mage, Emzu the Vulpera rouge, and Ishah the troll hunter are having a drink to rest after months of epic quests.

[moviemunchies]

I have never played a Warcraft game in my life, but I had a friend who played WoW when this came out, and we saw it in theaters.

Time for a re-watch!

Warcraft explains the origin of the conflict between the Alliance (led by the humans) and the Horde (led by orcs). As their world is dying, the orcs, led by the sorcerer Gul’dam, launch an invasion force to the world of Azeroth. As Gul’dam’s magic, the Fel, drains life, they’re taking captives, concerning the human kingdom based in Stormwind, and their military leader, Lothar (the King’s brother-in-law), to launch an investigation and try to find a way to stop the orcs. Meanwhile, the orc chieftain of one of the clans, Durotan, is uncomfortable with the Fel’s effects on his fellow orcs and the dishonorable warfare on helpless combatants for hostage sacrifices.

Between Lothar and Durotan, and the half-orc Garona, can they find a way to avert war and make peace?

[A clue: no.]

Fun fact: Uwe Boll, director of terrible video game film adaptations, tried to buy the rights to make a Warcraft film. Blizzard straightforwardly told him that they had no intention of selling him, specifically, the film rights.

This movie introduces a lot of information to the viewer, if they’re not already in the know about Warcraft. I’ve seen complaints that it’s way too confusing for newcomers; I don’t know if that’s true, because I was a newcomer and I mostly followed it okay. My WoW-playing friend said they changed a lot so that knowledge of the games doesn’t really matter. I don’t know about that! Either way, I think we’re in a weird state where some people feel if they aren’t spoon fed information and backstory, they’ll mark it as difficult to understand.

Still, some things are unclear to me. Like, okay, Stormwind is the capital of this human kingdom; what’s the actual name of the kingdom? And the Guardian–at times he seems to be referred to as protecting the kingdom, specifically, though other times it’s like his job is protecting all of Azeroth (which I believe is the name of the world, not the continent, correct?). Also, the elves and dwarves are allies with the human kingdom–why aren’t they doing anything in this movie? Other than the dwarves apparently supplying firearms.

I also think that the movie hews too closely to the aesthetic of the Warcraft games in some ways. It’s good that they want to copy the look of the games so that it’s obviously connected to them, but some of the armor and designs look… not great in live-action. The thing that comes to mind is the elves’ eyebrows, which look absolutely ridiculous in a live-action medium.  That being said, it does look cool to see that game world translated onto the screen. I remember wondering how they’d do it, and being pleasantly surprised with most of what I saw. The magic and creatures mostly look pretty awesome. And it’s cool to see a fantasy film of this scale out there.

So much of this movie feels like setup, though, and that’s frustrating, especially as there haven’t been any sequels. Plenty of hints abound throughout the story as to what could be coming, and presumably that makes sense if you know the game world. To me, though, a casual viewer, these glimpses into a longer history don’t do much other than cut out time that could be dedicated to developing these characters and storylines in front of me.

Ultimately, it’s fine, as a movie–not great, but fine. I enjoyed it, and I like that it’s a big-budget fantasy film that introduced me to a new world. New to me, anyhow. I don’t know how this appeals to fans of the games; to non-fans, I think it’s alright if you want something fun, though there are certainly better fantasy films out there.

[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.

[lorellaishc]

Wounds Unhealed

(( DWC February 2024 Day 4, Vengeance/Satisfaction, CW: None, @daily-writing-challenge ))

In the wake of the celebrations of the Blooming

The air that blew through the greenery of Amirdrassil smelled sweet in Ghorren's nose as he stood on a hill, feeling the soft loam and grass beneath his toes. After years serving Zandalar as a mercenary hired out by the crown, both to gain riches for the nation and to keep the other peoples of Zandalar properly intimidated by his people, fighting alongside bonafide heroes, and saving people he did not know was a new feeling. A welcome one, but new nonetheless. Thus as the celebration went on, he'd decided to take a moment to himself to enjoy the moment free of the noise. Well, most of it.

The grass behind him rustled as footsteps approached, heavy and angry. Three figures, he guessed. Sighing, he turned to take them in. Three kaldorei, young in face but far too old in their eyes. Survivors of Teldrassil, he guessed. Young, fired up, and not quite feeling sated by victory. And here he was, a troll separated from the party.

Perhaps he ought to have waited for his quiet moment.

"You don't belong here, monster. Draw your weapon and defend yourself!" the apparent leader of the elves declared, holding out a sabre. The two behind her were armed as well, a mage's staff and a bow with a nasty looking arrow.

"Easy now, I'm here by invitation. We all fought against the primalists to save this tree. We're all trying to enjoy the victory."

"You don't deserve to be here, filth! Not after what your kind did to us!" the leader shot back. The staff wielder joined in. "You horde monsters destroyed our home, killed our families, and think that you can just come in here and help and all will be forgiven?"

Ghorren's heart hurt. He fought down the urge to point out that Zandalar wasn't part of the Horde when their warchief had assaulted their former capital. He knew well the pain of loss, and how it defied logic and reason. But at the same time, he really didn't want to lay a beating on a bunch of hurting kids, or leave them to go after some other tempting target. "If you're going to kill me, I'd appreciate it if you didn't do it with such an amateur stance," he said, rolling his shoulder.

"What?" the leader asked, confused.

"Your stance, your legs are too close together, and your grip is too tight. You're going to hurt yourself. Spread your feet more, and loosen up a bit on the sword, you need to be able to move it. And you, your bowstring is loose, you're not getting enough power to kill a stag with that, much less a troll. As for you, mage, you'd be smart to have an incantation charged and ready if you're going to pick a fight, you don't want to be the slowest to act in a fight."

"Shut up troll! Pick up your sword and defend yourself!"

"No." Ghorren replied. "I've fought enough today. Elves and trolls and orcs and dragons, all who wanted to destroy this place. I'm tired, and trying to enjoy some rest. You want to do this, then do it."

The kaldorei's courage wavered. Ghorren let out a mental sigh of relief at having read them right. He looked in the eyes of the leader, that were now wet with tears of frustration, anger, and loss.

"Elune damn you, you're a savage, why won't you fight?" she cried.

"What was done to you, to your families and home, was monstrous. Those responsible have faced judgment, either here, or elsewhere at the hands of your leaders. But the pain is still with you. I know. So is mine, from the losses I have faced. The only way to lessen that pain is to grow beyond it. The war is over. You and your people have a new home. It's time to stop surviving, and let yourself live and grieve."

The leader's face was wet with tears as the grip on her blade loosened, and the tension in her body dropped with a sob. "This isn't fair, none of this is fair, our families are still gone, and we're just supposed to move on?" she cried, falling to her knees. Her friends set down their weapons, and knelt to hold her, sobbing themselves.

Ghorren looked upon them sadly. Even though they were elves, even though their peoples had long been enemies, it was taking every ounce of his self control to not reach out to them. He was a father, and they were hurt children. But none of them were ready for that. So instead he kept his voice soft, like when he sought to soothe his own daughters when they felt anguish. "Go back to your people. Go to your priestesses, and tell them of your pain. Causing more won't make it go away," he said, gathering his things and slowly walking away, putting distance between him and them. Once he'd gotten out of sight, he pulled out his hearthstone, and triggered it. He'd explain his failure to return to the party later. For now, the relative peace of Valdrakken called.

[ronaestrider]

Another Dawn

The last rays of sunlight danced upon the spires of Valdrakken as drakes of various scales soared through the twilight skies. The celebration of life seemed to be endless, joy and mirth found in all corners of the ancient city. Laughter was shared between Horde and Alliance alike as new friendships were forged in the aftermath of another victory. The boughs of Amirdrassil bloomed with life and hope, a clear indication of the achievements of Azeroth’s protectors.

The dawn of a new chapter.

Again.

Standing atop the steps that lead up to the Seat of the Aspects was Ruthar Ronaestrider, Ranger Captain of the Farstriders, Reservist-Commander of the inactive Phoenix Guard, a Blood Elf who has sworn his life to the protection of his kingdom. He exhaled slowly as he looked out into the merriment below him, the gentle breeze pushing the feathers of his gold and red uniform. He watched as a kaldorei spoke with an orc near the central fountain, sharing a moment together in this time of unity. The scene shifted before him as the flagons of ale morphed into daggers, the clinking goblets becoming a clash of armament. The sparks of their weaponry flashed against the inky black sky as a snarl escaped the kaldorei’s lips with a flash of fangs.

”You seem troubled.”

Ruthar’s temporary reverie was halted by a familiar voice, the blackness returning to the purple twilight. He blinked away the images as the orc and night elf continued to share their drink at the fountain. Ruthar looked far into the distance, his scarred eyes searching for what lies beyond the horizon, for what comes next.

”With every victory there is darkness. Unknown.” He squeezeed his gloved hand around Ana’dal, his trusted phoenix-emblazoned bow, to ground himself for the moment. He closed his eyes and shook his head in an effort to displace the vision completely. “I can’t help but feel that this is all so…temporary.”

Ruthar looked down to see the exposed bones of his companion’s feet sticking out from beneath his cerulean robes. After a moment, the gravelly voice of a forsaken priest sliced through the silence. “Perhaps it is so,” the forsaken offered, his shoulders slumped as he, too, looked out toward the horizon. “How else are we supposed to see it when we have eyes that have seen so much?”

Tahlus Tourvald, an ambassador for the forsaken, was not someone Ruthar had expected to become close with, though he was sure that the forsaken was equally surprised by their partnership. For many years, Tahlus served as a forsaken ambassador in many of the Horde capital cities, a role that he found both difficult and rewarding. Spreading the offerings of the forsaken and convincing others that they were an asset was challenging, sometimes seemingly impossible, work. The impossibility only mounted further in the aftermath of Sylvanas’s actions of the Fourth War and subsequent betrayal of her people. Tahlus found himself in Silvermoon City trying to distance himself from the Banshee Queen and continue his efforts showing what he and his comrades could offer to anyone who would listen.

Ruthar was one who did listen. He found himself sympathetic Tahlus and the struggles of the undead. Though the forsaken were most directly affected by Sylvanas’s actions, her loyalists were not just within her own people. For his entire life, Ruthar idolized Sylvanas Windrunner. When he began his training as a Farstrider himself, Ruthar served beneath her leadership as Ranger General of Silvermoon. He was there when Silvermoon fell to Arthas and the Scourge, and he felt the deep loss when she was bested defending her home and her people. When it was discovered that Sylvanas survived the conflict as a banshee with free will, he, unlike so many, celebrated the victory and was thankful that her great legacy could continue. For years, Ruthar pushed for the unification of Silvermoon and Undercity, leaning upon the deep history that Sylvanas and Silvermoon shared, an aspect of sin’dorei history that too many were keen to forget. It made the Fourth War an unbearable conflict for the Ranger Captain as he found himself caught between service to his kin and dedication to the Windrunner legacy.

The Horde is nothing! You are all nothing!

Those words haunted both of them, the betrayal slicing deep. In the end, service to their kin, as ever, was the answer. Though both Ruthar and Tahlus had vastly different backgrounds, they found themselves united in cause - to help other members of the Horde who had been loyal find their new place in society after the Fourth War. While other heroes ventured into the realms of death in the Shadowlands, Ruthar and Tahlus stayed behind to further their mission. They worked with displaced forsaken in both Orgrimmar and Silvermoon after the loss of the Undercity to find their way to make amends, either by assisting in clean-up missions or other acts of service. Eventually, they would find themselves on different paths - Tahlus assisting the new Desolate Council with forsaken affairs and Ruthar with the Farstriders dealing with a renewed Scourge threat near Tranquillien. They both felt a great weight lifted from their shoulders when word came to them of Sylvanas’s fate in the Maw and her manipulation by the jailer, but the sting of betrayal would not be so easily forgotten.

The three years after the work in the Shadowlands was concluded were a time of relative peace for both Ruthar and Tahlus, but they were certainly not a time of inactivity. Their missions continued in full-force with Tahlus assisting the forsaken solidify their new future with the newly established Desolate Council and Ruthar working closely with the Farstriders to train a new generation of rangers. They both attended the celebrations of the marriage of Regent Lord Theron and First Arcanist Thalyssra, one of the most celebrated occasions of Silvermoon in recent times. It was a great reminder of what the world was like beyond conflict.

Peace never lasts, Ruthar had reminded himself and his trainees, and it wasn’t long before he and many of his Farstriders were called to action. Expeditions to the Dragon Isles were being planned to uncover secrets of the ancestral dragon homelands, and the Reliquary in Silvermoon was planning on joining forces with the Explorer’s League to create the Dragonscale Expedition. Ruthar arranged for many of his rangers to accompany the new project, though he himself had planned to remain in Silvermoon. It was Tahlus, of all people, who convinced the Ranger Captain to take the journey. The forsaken had decided to travel with a group of his colleagues who had taken a keen interest in the new discoveries that lay hidden on the ancient shores, and dangling the promise of research and cartography in front of Ruthar was enough to get him back into the action.

Naturally, the Expedition turned out to be far more than either of them bargained for. They found themselves back into the thick of the action with the primalist and incarnate threat, working alongside drakes and dragons of all scales to combat dangerous forces. The typical expectation, as Ruthar would put it. They had come out victorious, however, which is why they stood shoulder to shoulder on the steps that overlooked the courtyard in central Valdrakken.

The orc bellowed a haughty laugh and clinked his mug of ale against the kaldorei’s, the foam spilling over their hands as they celebrated with one another. Ruthar managed a small smile as he looked upon the pair. “These eyes have seen many things, indeed, Ambassador Tourvald,” Ruthar finally replied. “Though I’m not sure they expected to see this after…everything.”

Tahlus shrugged, his soft yellow eyes glowing from beneath his blue cowl. “What we ourselves deem impossible seems to become more commonplace with each passing year.”

Ruthar considered that for a long moment, his thoughts swirling around his mind. He recalled his capture and torture in Tanaan Jungle, the Phoenix Guard’s campaign against the Legion, his melted goggles outside of Hearthglen. A lot of that was impossible and yet here he stood. Naturally, his thoughts turned to close friends that were lost along the way, of the difficulties that were faced to overcome the challenging odds.

”The cost, though - it is difficult to see whether the cost is worth it.” He gestured out toward the courtyard beneath the Seat of the Aspects. “I am inclined to say yes when you look upon these faces, but…” He sighed as he looked down at his bow and his gloved hand. “There should be so many more enjoying this evening.”

Tahlus pulled back his sleeves to reveal his boney bandaged-wrapped hands and lifted them up. They glowed with the gentle powers of the Light as he washed Ruthar with a soothing prayer. “We would have done the same as they - given everything we could to ensure a better future for our kin.” He pushed just a touch to finish the warmth of the spell. “Dark Lady watch over you.”

Ruthar closed his eyes as the spell’s energies faded. He considered the meaning of that phrase and about how it has changed with Sylvanas’s duties in the Maw. “Sunwell guide,” he offered to Tahlus as he turned to depart down the stairs. “I’ll join you in a moment at the Roasted Ram.”

Tahlus chuckled, a deep guttural sound from his dry throat. “Even your thoughts won’t keep you from a glass of Eversong wine.”

Ruthar smirked at that, watching the forsaken slowly depart. He turned again to look upon the courtyard, affixing Ana’dal to his back and picking up his spiked helmet from the stone next to him. He paused as he heard the sound of quickly moving feet headed in his direction. Looking up, he saw a young Farstrider moving toward him. He raised a brow as the ranger ran up to him, a piece of crude parchment in his grasp. The Farstrider offered a quick salute that Ruthar returned while maintaining his curious expression.

”A message for you, sir,” he began, somewhat uncomfortably. Ruthar immediately felt as if something was amiss and his visage certainly showed it. “Was left at the encampment.” He snatched the note from the Farstrider’s hands and read it quickly.

This letter is to inform you that there have been sightings of one who you may know of, although their identity has yet to be confirmed. The rumors are that they’re female with red hair and reportedly wear a rose by their right ear and wears a silver necklace with a rune upon it. Word from the field is that she’s quite a good shot despite having extensive scarring around her eyes.

Ruthar looked up from the hastily scrawled note to the delivering ranger, his frustration on full display. “This was just left at the camp. No name, no information, no…nothing?”

The ranger looked concerned at the direct questioning. “No, sir - this is all that I have…”

“And no one saw this note being dropped off?” Ruthar inquired hotly.

“Not…not that I am aware,” he replied. Ruthar lofted an eyebrow. “...sir,” the ranger hastily added.

Ruthar sighed heavily, crumpling the note somewhat in a tightened grip. What was I just saying about peace? He turned from the Farstrider and looked down into the courtyard where Tahlus was walking toward the Roasted Ram. I wonder if he could trace some sort of magical aura or something, he coonsidered silently, his mind slipping away in thought once more.

After a long moment, the Ranger Captian recalled that the Farstrider was still standing there expectantly. He spun around. “Return to the encampment, see if there are further clues you can unearth where this letter was left. I don’t want to see another parchment dropped off without someone noticing.”

The Farstrider nodded. “Understood, sir.”

“Dismissed, Farstrider. Establish a minor watch with the unit so that we have keen eyes out.” He offered a somewhat lazy salute to the young ranger. “Then go enjoy some celebration.”

“Thank you, sir. It will be done. For Quel’Thalas.” The ranger returned Ruthar’s salute with a crisp offering of his own before hastily departing to tend to his duties. Ruthar watched him go before turning to look upon the square once again. He lifted the note once more, re-reading the description.

“It can’t be her,” he whispered to himself, thinking of who might fit that description. “It’s been sometime with no word. Why now?” His eyes moved to the soft glow emanating from the entryway to the Roasted Ram. He folded the letter and slipped it within his hauberk.

“Let us see what Ambassador Tourvald thinks of all this.”

[iruthomlogs]

WoW A Empty Shell

This World of Warcraft fanfiction is a entry for @daily-writing-challenge day 6 empty and a spotlight on my Forsaken Death Knight Hulbard and my Classic Hardcore Forsaken mage Amelia. This feature a cameo of @wowtalesofadventurers Dracthyr character Jerephan.

At the Horde capital of Orgrimmar, citizens go about their normal day while adventurers go around the city, looking for quest boards and shops to buy important items that they are going to need for their quests. One Dracthyr adventurer in her visage form is a bit lost and was looking at her map when she bump into someone and said, "Oops. Sorry." and the person she bump into turn to reveal to be a undead man in dark armor with glowing blue eyes, giving the Dracthyr a fright and made her change to her dragon form. The female Dracthyr was prepare to defend herself when the man walk away to her confusion and soon she and a growing crowd left.

Hatlen, a blood elf warlock whose watching the scene with three of his friends, comment to them, "Boy, that was a close one for that Dracthyr. I'm not sure that death knight would let her live." A troll in a mage robe walk to the four and ask them, "Are ye be sure about that?" and they turn to see the troll and said, "Teacher Rol'tu!" Rol'tu sigh at this nickname as only teach them on how to use magic before he said to them, "That death knight is named Hulbard, and he don't talk much. I fought with Hulbard against the Lich King, a evil force that raise him form the dead to make him a slave for him, removing all emotions in the process. Now, Hulbard is just a empty shell of a heroic warrior, one with no feelings." and Hateln and his friends look at each other.

A undead couple, the Forsaken mage Amelia and the Darkfallen Night Elf priestess Celene, are checking out at a flower shop, owned by a orc whose said to be a member of the rumored Flowerpicker clan, when they noticed Hulbard looking at the flowers and Celene ask Amelia, "What is Hulbard doing here, Amelia?" and she reply upon seeing the death knight, "I don't know, Celene. Thanks to Arthas, Hulbard rarely do much when he is not fighting in the battlefield or in raids." They see Hulbard, using sign language, purchase a pair of blue flowers and soon left, which the curious Celene ask, "Where do you think he is going?"

Amelia and Celene followed Hulbard go through a portal to the Plaguelands and they followed him.

The curious pair followed Hulbard to Light's Hope Chapel and followed the death knight, while avoiding being spotted by the Argent Crusade. Amelia and Celene soon see Hulbard enter a graveyard and place flowers at a grave. Celene ask Amelia, "Why is Hulbard placing flowers on that grave?" and Amelia think for a moment until she remember and reply to Celene, "I recall that I was told most of the Death Knights on our side have their loved ones buried here..." before she and Celene realzied that a loved one of Hulbard was buried here.

Hulbard wish he could remember this woman buried at this grave whose he must have loved, but the Lich King has taken precious memories from him after he kill Hulbard for a second time. Hulbard hope that her spirit would enjoy these flowers that he left for her.

[fantasyworldofduranna]

The Battle of Lionstrait

80 years ago, in a very narrow gorge, 2 great armies stood in front of each other knowing that the future of Esthrata- no, the future of the entire Duranná was at stake.

Known by the Durannians as the "Invasion Army", this was (still is) a fearful force of thousands of goblin hordes, ogres, orcs and some other races in the mix, that has invaded, plundered and conquered the entire western lands and decided then that it was time to march to Duranná.

They pillaged and completely and utterly destroyed the old duchy of Makenia, the one that bordered these western lands, in less than a couple of years, leaving behind a trail of destruction, massacre and chaos. The forces overrun the relatively small army of the duchy, which received no help from the other realms of the continent, and the Duke was slain mercilessly in a public display at the old capital of the kingdom, now renamed to "Vr'karon", in a show of power and subjugation.

From there, the next objective was Esthrata. Esthrata is a kingdom where an extremely militarized and disciplined society, based on the principles of combat and the art of war, lives, mostly humans but also some Drow exiles. Despite that, Esthrata was never an expansionist state, in fact, until the Battle of Lionstrait, it was a really isolated kingdom that maintained little to no contact/commerce with the other realms.

The Invasion army decided that this time they should aim directly at the capital, thinking that destroying it and killing the king in the first months of the conflict would end the war and give them an easy and quick victory, avoiding years of casualties and unnecessary losses.

Therefore, they marched through the only available path to the capital, a very narrow gorge in the western mountains, which served as a natural border for the nation of Esthrata.

The exact numbers are unknown, but it is estimated by current historians that around twenty thousand soldiers were directed at Esthrata. Such a large army was easily detected and thus, esthratian explorers saw the intentions of the horde long before they were able to reach the frontier of the realm.

Knowing this, the esthratian king at the time, Leonthor III, decided that they had to act before the army reached the city, otherwise, it would then be too late. Thus, He and 3000 handpicked soldiers marched to the mountains, specifically, to the gorge where the army had to pass in order to reach the capital, known as Lionstrait.

With fear and nervousness but also hope and courage they marched, most of them telling their families "goodbye" for what would be the last time, as the chances of them coming back alive were minimal.

They arrived at Lionstrait weeks before the expected arrival of the Invasion Army, in order to prepare the battlefield for more favourable conditions, making traps and setting up the terrain. They had to have any advantage they could, they had to try their best to succeed, they had to achieve victory here, didn't matter if it would cost them their lives. They knew it was now or never, they knew that this army would erase any sign of esthratian history if given the chance to do so.

And then the first regiment of the Army arrived.

And thus, the 2 armies stood in front of each other for what seemed like an eternity. The esthratians prepared themselves for what was coming and formed a shield wall in an even narrower gorge within Lionstrait. However, they could hear some of the goblins laugh. The goblins found it quite funny that such a small army was trying to stop them, and thinking that victory was already in the palm of their hands.

They couldn't be more wrong, as the first horde of goblins charged at the esthratian wall shield and were absolutely decimated in no time. The well-prepared esthratian soldiers suffered no casualties and annihilated the goblins, enraging the orc commanders, who then sent all they had, goblins and ogres together, into the seemingly unbreakable shield wall.

This did not work well for them. The battle lasted for days, days in which only a few dozen esthratians would fall compared to the thousands of goblin casualties.

As a last resort, the commanders sent their best units, the veteran orc regiments, hoping these more trained soldiers would be able to finally break the remaining esthratians, but utterly failed in the end.

When the orcs fell, and the ambience stood silent, observing the last moon of the last day of battle, the last 500 esthratians returned home victorious, while the decimated Invasion Army, completely destroyed and unable to wage war for a very long time until rebuilt, abandoned the idea of invading Duranná, at least for now.

But there was nothing to celebrate, there was no victory day, there were no tears of joy, there wasn't a city happy to see their soldiers victorious, there was a city devastated by the loss of thousands of some of their best soldiers, not only soldiers but fathers, sons, even grandfathers. Even worse, the king Leonthor himself died in battle alongside his soldiers.

However, this did not go unnoticed, the legendary deed that occurred at Lionstrait was soon known by the entire kingdom, and the story started to be told to every son and every daughter, bards sang songs about the 3000 warriors, historians wrote books about the battle, mothers named their children after the fallen soldiers... And soon, the entirety of Duranná knew about the battle. Visitors from all corners of the continent wanted to visit Esthrata to witness the legendary battlefield by themselves, to see the faces of the saviours of the continent, and to appreciate and celebrate them.

Nowadays, Esthrata has become a more open state, and it receives money from tourists, gold much needed for keeping it safe from the horde, which still is a threat, but that's a story for another time...

Thank you for reading if you made it this far, if not, thank you too.

[legofanguy]

World of Warcraft: asking the question

A World of Warcraft story for @choicesprompts and @choicesholidays Valentine Day event. It feature some of my World of Warcraft characters and I'm using this for a plot of a secondary blog that covered my characters adventurers in the world of Warcraft. This is the story of my Orc warrior Gramakk and my friend @legofanguy1999 Orc Zarnawe.

In a pub in the Horde capital, Gramakk the Orc warrior told his party members Kyzia the Blood Elf warlock, Luise the Forsaken priest, Ishah the Troll hutner, and Moketoveto the Tauren druid, "Okay guys, I have feelings for Zarnawe for a long time since we meet when we were at Outworld and I think she is the one. I'm going to ask her the big question." and Kyzia said, "Oh, that is great of you, Gramakk." and Moketoveto said, "Well done, my green friend." Gramakk said to his friends, "Thanks guys, I know you have my back. Wish me luck." and left, which made Kyzia said to Luise, "He is going to have his heart broken." and Luise reply, "Yeah, he is." The priest then ask, "You guys want to watch?" and Ishah reply, "I be game." and the trio follow Gramakk as Moketoveto shake his head.

Gramakk nervous ask Zarnawe, "Well... I wanted to ask you the question... the thing is... I like you... and I... I honestly don't know..." only for Kyza, whose was watching the scene with Ishah and Luise, to shout, "Just said the damn words, you idiot!" which the Orc turn around and yell at his friend, "Would you shut up for a minute? I've never proposed to anyone before!" Zarnawe overhear this and ask the green Orc, "Gramakk? What was that about?" and that cause him to nervously turn around and face the female Orc face to face as he finally said the words, "Zarnawe, will you marry me?" Zarnawe did some thinking, which Kyza whisper to her friends, "This is the part where she said no." until the Mag'har Orc reply, "Well, you are a honorable warrior and you give that warlock a yelling, Gramakk. Yes, I will marry you." and the Orc adventurer call out in happiness whlie Ishah and Luise clap for him to the Blood elf's shock while Zarnawe said, "Hey, did you bring your two friends along for support?" which Gramakk reply, "Maybe...."

[renaultmograine]

Or Baine is supposed to be "The Heart of the Horde" and opposing him is supposed to make you Scrooge according to the Winter Veil evefnt, but Blizzard has forgotten that Baine has:

Said Orcs are untrustworthy.

Told the survivors of Taurajo they and their dead loved ones were a valid military target and deserved to die.

Exiled many innocent tauren for defending against the Alliance forces invading the barrens and trying to break into Mulgore's gate, including fighting back against High Marshall Twinbraid, the aforementioned guy whom led the tauren genocide.

Actively told the Alliance forces at Theramore, the locations of Tauren soldiers, resulting in the soldier's deaths.

Thrown an internal fit when forced to fight Alliance forces assaulting the gates of Mulgroe.

Mailed his horns to Anduin and gave him vital info to the Alliance

Claimed the Alliance attacking the Zandalar capital, including unleashing an uncontrollable fire elemental on a shopping district full of civilian was "just" and rudely urged Talanji to surrender the Alliance during her father's funeral.

Did nothing about the Burning of Teldrassil, but threw a fit and killed a bunch of Horde soldiers when Sylvanas tried to fight back using a resurrected undead, Derek, that was never even forsaken to begin with.

Showed himself to be a hypocrite and bigot by throwing a fit and murdering a bunch of centaurs as revenge for an entirely different group of centaurs treating him badly. Revenge is only acceptable when it involves himself according to Baine.

Yet Blizzard constantly tells me, the Horde player, that Baine represents all that is best in the Horde, when, if anything, he's someone my tauren character should loathe for stuff like exiling them for fighting the dwarves trying to attack tauren civilians.

oh hi again, it's been awhile since i've seen you darken my door. sorry i didn't immediately recognize you from your repeated statements abt playing tauren.

[eggman91]

ok form top to bottom we have Ivan and Yuri played ivan while my brother played yuri two former serfs now dragons fighting the good fight against ferah empire and looting corpses too

a different Ivan a Chihuahua borzoi hybrid fighting in mossflower red worker republican army also his flag if I remember correctly, translates to capitalism is pretty cringe

Rig the goblin he was a warrior, pretending to be a rogue always trying to rhyme. I messed up a lot trying to role-play him. It’s hard to rhyme OK

Grimrot the orc warlock got a lot of good role-play out of him basically he’s going through depression

lambert bellton paladin of the holy light basically my Warcraft character for one shot extremely racist to all horde races but has a goblin fetish

George S meow we don’t talk about Georges meow the war crimes did not happen. There was no catmerican Military units on the continent at the time you cannot claim that they took part in the gnomish slaughter

[blue-eyed-banshee]

There will be a Trigger Warning for character abuse (Physical) so if you're trigger by that, turn back!

So... I'm going to probably get into DND when I go to college, and I am probably going to use my WoW orc shaman, Moggatorash as a character!

A friend of mine drew him, and in the eye, he was winking. He is blind in that eye due to being beaten as a teen for stealing in Orgrimmar, where he lives on the streets as an orphan. He was found by a Tauren warrior who brought him to Thunderbluff, where he was adopted into his family, and he began training as a shaman. He earned the nickname Chey'vo amongst the Tauren people, which means "spirit warrior".

He later returned to Orgrimmar to officially join the horde, and he was met with mixed emotions by the people.

Some wanted him in chains because he stole from them so much. and some of them were important people within the faction. Others such as the very guard who beat him to where he was near death, saw him and moved through the crowd and stood before Mogga, raising a fist and a sword only to be stopped by Baine Bloodhoof, who was the one who gave the official nickname of Chey'vo.

Moggatorash would often come to him for advice, like the uncle figure he never had.

Once he was officially welcome into the horde, he sought out the elements to further guide him on his path. He eventually gained the ability to see auras and see into a person's soul as well as Astral project his consciousness to where he pleases.

Since then, he has been a trusted shaman known for his abilities and healing. He would even dedicate his free hours to healing and providing for orphans and those who have no home because he was in that situation long ago. He's has a very mischievous childhood while he was living on the streets; stealing from nobility and various stalls within the city. His adopted brother, Villhelm journey with him back to the Horde capital to make sure his little brother's past did not catch up to him.

[jenjensd]

This is one of the things I really hated about fallout 4, despite it being the game I’ve enjoyed playing the most (I’ve not played much of the other games but I know a lot of lore).

Mutants like Marcus were fascinating to learn about, and even the personality of Nightkin is worth exploring. Then we have Fawkes in fallout 3 who taught himself enough to be considered a person. And Strong who was read Shakespeare and got stuck on a metaphor “milk of human kindness” and thought it would make him the strongest super mutant.

It feels like such a let down and a reverse of development. I get they’re trying to say that mutants are lost without the master. I get that a lot of them who were converted from wastelanders were dumb because of the partial inoculation from the FEV spreading through the wasteland after Mariposa military base was bombed. But to take the intelligent mutants that exist in 1, 2, and NV, and reduce them to a single character who became less animalistic instead of retaining their intelligence, feels just… wrong.

They’re telling us that no mutant made it to the capital wasteland that hadn’t come out of that vault. They’re telling us no mutant made it to the commonwealth that wasn’t ejected by the institute. And that despite vault 87 starting out with plenty of pure strain vault dwellers, none of them retained any intelligence? That not a single wastelander in either game by chance ended up anything more than a mindless beast?

It just feels like they lost a lot of good story telling potential, all in service to an “always acceptable kill” bad guy. Like hordes of orcs, we aren’t supposed to care or sympathise with a single one of these mutants when we kill them. Honestly it’s incredibly disappointing, when you consider that mutants are one of the crucial aspects of Fallout, and one of the most prolific creatures in all the games. It’s just legitimately a shame how much was lost because of Bethesda’s handling of Supermutants.

There's a question which the west coast Fallout games are quietly litigating, which is that age-old gotcha about what you do with the remaining orcs once you've deposed Sauron. In the original Fallout, the Super Mutants are basically universally aligned against the quote-unquote "good guys," for whatever value of that term is applicable to the wasteland at large, but subsequent games make it clear that this was an ideological thing, and a product of the political moment of the mutants creation rather than an ontological quality that they have. The game is very aware that this is something that was done to them, and the tragedy of that; the first mutant you're likely to run into is dying scared and alone.

Fallout 2 presents super mutants who've broken in every direction ideologically in the aftermath of the Unity's collapse; the peacemakers under Marcus at Broken Hills, Gond as a member of the abolitionist NCR rangers, reactionary remnants of the original mutant army, genocidal self-hating fascists like Frank Horrigan. Fallout: New Vegas iterates on this beautifully. The mutants dovetail perfectly with the theme of how every faction in the wasteland is trying and oftentimes failing to reckon with the weight of history. Their utopian movement imploded outside of living memory, closer to the apocalypse than to the present day. The survivors- who can only dwindle in number due to their sterility- have been left to reckon with that in whatever way they can. And they have their backs to about a hundred and twenty years of that reckoning not going particularly well, of being the bugbear and boogeymen for bullies and ideologues whose grandparents weren't even alive to suffer from the Unity's actions. The lack of a collective future for mutantkind casts a pall over even the best ending for Jacobstown; humans are collectively resilient within this setting, but through violence, and accidents, dementia and senility, the day will inevitably come when there are no mutants left. And worse still will be the day before that, when there's only one mutant left. Finding some form of satisfaction or contentment within that dwindling window, with the world against you, is a task that falls to the individual mutant. (Take Mean Sonovabitch, for example. He seems to be doing alright for himself.)

Then we slide on over to the east coast games, where the mutants are.... morons. Cannibals. Marauders. And when you meet one who isn't, the game throws itself a ticker-tape parade for containing such an audacious twist. To go back to the orc thing, it's like if The Hobbit had contained a lengthy, empathetic subplot about the rich internality and fleshed-out-if-deeply-flawed ideology of the orcs, and then there was a pivot to treating them like a monolithic block of ontologically evil marauders in LOTR. While staring you straight in the eye the whole time, unblinking. Daring you to say something

[wowtalesofadventurers]

Fluff-uary 2025 day 26 private language

A World of Warcraft fanfiction for @ir0n-angel event Fluffuary 2025 day 26 private language.

As the Alliance help clean up the aftermath of the battle with the so call True Horde, Zanawe ask her husband Gramakk in the orc language, "Are you fine to let these Alliance warriors in the capital city after what they has done?" and Victoria Redstone said to Zanawe, "I can both hear you and understand your language. The Lich King made us understand all known language to better understand his Death Knights."

[teriyakichop]

Titles and Comprehension

@derkokopelli. You seem to be one of the few people that has common sense, so I'll speak to you. First, Yuli's titles. When Yuli was made, she did not have a title. She was recruited into the Templari and was assigned to making bombs. The Guild Leader back then saw Yuli's potential and placed her as the Diplomacy Sect Leader of the Templari. Then the Guild Leader had to leave suddenly, and she made Yuli(me) Captain/Guild Leader. Immediately after that, BfA launched and Sylvannas attacked Teldrassil. Yuli lead the Templari RP wise to rescue survivors, but she ALSO lead the Templari PVP wise to wipe out any and all pvp Horde players. When you have a kill streak, the game flags you for other players to zone in on. Me and the Templari held ALL of Auberdine for 4 hours straight, and no horde was able to kill us until we decided to log off. During BfA, Yuli earned the title of High Vindicator because of her deeds both in RP and PVP throughout Kul Tiras and Zandalar. There was a MAJOR Draenei/Lightforged Draenei presence during BfA, and no players and no guilds were capitalizing on this. So I did. Yuli grew in recognition because players always saw her throughout the expansion where she helped Alliance players constantly. At the end of BfA, Yuli got pregnant, started a family, and studied to become an Anchorite, because she realized that her family not only needs a fighter, but they need a healer, too. She went to the Exodar AND Shattrath to study and become an Anchorite because it was her motherly duty to care for her family, which spread to care for her people. When the Shadowlands prelaunch happened and Stormwind was turning into Zombies, Yuli and a handful of Templari went to Stormwind Cathedral of Light and made that a bunker zone, protecting people from zombies and helping the Argent Crusade cure those that could be saved. Yuli did this until the server literally crashed. Afterwards, it was the people that recommended that Yuli become an Exarch--something Yuli did NOT want to be. But once she realized that she could help her people more by doing this, she trained for her Exarch Trial, which was held in the Exodar for her final test, battling 2 Exarchs by herself, which she passed. Yuli is a Vindicator, High Vindicator, and Anchorite, and continued her training for High Anchorite during Shadowlands, the Shadowlands Timeskip, AND Dragonflight. She healed the sick, she healed her allies, she healed her ENEMIES, and according to Raider.io in terms of raids and mythic+ for BfA, I became the 413th best holy priest in the entire game, and I became the 35th best holy priest in the entire MoonGuard server, and the 14th best holy priest in MoonGuard's Alliance faction. Yuli didn't earn her High Anchorite title until the mid point to Season One of The War Within. That's quite a lot of time to get a title. I didn't just show up out of nowhere, claim a ridiculously high title, and say I'm God. I worked with other RPers and EARNED her titles. But you wouldn't know this, because you don't RP with me. Next, your comprehension. Horny Draenei. --When are Draenei NOT horny? Sure they have their duty, but since 90% of their entire species has been wiped out by the Legion, they have A LOT of re-populating to do. Orc with a Draenei in their basement. I know the player that said that. They haven't been in the Templari for years. We ARE a cross-faction guild, after all. And the player that said that, said that OOCly. So, it's a crime to say OOC things now??? Horny Gnome. Same thing. I know that player too. They're no longer in the Templari, they've been out of the Templari for nearly 2 years. And again, they spoke OOCly. Again, is it a crime to say OOC things??? Horny Demon. We have a few converted demons in the Templari in service to the Grand Army, as that IS a Canon thing the Grand Army does. And again, they speak OOCly. Am I supposed to incriminate my guild members because we're an adult guild talking about adult themes OOCly?

As for the alleged pedophiles, I have some simple questions to ask you. If my guild members being alleged pedophiles were a problem, why do they still RP out in the open? Why do other RPers RP with them? Why are they not hiding? Do you seriously think that if the accusations were indeed true, that I would have them out in the RP Community as I currently do? Use your head, man. Y'all got played and you're targeting the wrong people. None of us played any of you. Y'all got sold a lie and you don't want to believe it. </3

[mouse-romance]

After bidding her farewell to Lucille, Neretta rode back to the Kul'tiran capital

"The fastest way is by grabbing a gryphon, but i want to feel the ground a little bit" she thought to herself, riding her faithful horse and making small detours to enjoy the lands.

Kul'tiras grew on her. She got used to the idylic views and the tight-knitted villages, so she thought that it would be a good idea to stop by Brennadam, a small town of sorts...

But something ruinous blurred the skies.

Suddenly, fire. And then, screams, panic and distress.

Neretta lunged into the action, almost instictively, not even knowing what was befalling from the skies.

Suddenly, the land raiders swarmed the crops. And she knew this was war knocking on their door, this was the Horde.

Every fiber of her being panicked for a brief moment, but she recomposed herself forcefully. This is it, this is the big enemy, the most menacing evil in the world.

The Alliance propaganda prepared her for this. She knew what an orc was by reputation, but never saw one in the flesh. She met a couple of goblin merchants back then, but none of them were deranged artificers planting bombs or breathing fire. She killed trolls back in her village, but not like this ones... They weren't animals, nor savages... They had thoughtful stares, they were calculating and smart. They were the ultimate enemy.

A deafening explosion interrupted her thoughts as the rubble of a flaming house almost obliterates her. She stepped aside, in the middle of what seemed hell, seeing all the villagers running and being pursued by terrible wolves.

She recomposed herself and tried to help whoever she had nearby.

She saw a hulking figure grabbing a farmer by the neck, efforlessly lifting him from the ground.

Neretta charged violently against him, saving the life of the human, and starting a bloody feud with the beast.

As she thought before, this wasn't an animal. The orc was disciplined, thoughtful and strong. He spoke in a forbidden tongue, impossible to understand for any civilized mind.

She didn't underestimate her foe, and with her willful ability knocked him down quickly. But there wasn't time to waste, as the village burned, a small militia gathered and started fighting back.

Neretta felt a surge of leadership, stood on top of a cart and yelled. "Gather in groups of 6. Formations of 3 on 3, walk like a turtle, strike like a crocolisk. Any plank is a shield and any corner a blade. Prioritize saving people over killing enemies, this is a village not a battlefield!"

She spoke out of her heart, trying to instruct his humans with what they did in her village when raiders came.

Everyone looked at her confused, but as soon as they saw her Alliance pin, everyone yelled in reassurance.

Neretta fought back, and saved more people than expected.

They escaped from the ashes of the town, forgiving it to the pillagers, and Neretta led the farmers to the nearest town.

She was received as a hero, but she didnt want to celebrate such a tragedy. A strange man approached her though, and introduced himself as an eye of the fifth commander. He gave her a formal invitation and introduction to one of the top brass of the Alliance, which was unsettling for Neretta.

She was escorted to one of the most sophisticated flying machines that Neretta saw in her entire life.

She walked carefully, always wary and uncomfortable when her feet was so far away from the ground, as the humans led her to a cornered room.

There, a human, with a much more menacing look, was awaiting to enter. She was accompanied by two monsters, two sand crawlers that were barely holding themselves together, as they munched on the wooden tables nearby.

This human, as soon as she saw Neretta, quickly entered the room.

She started a conversation with who was supposed to be the Fifth Commander.

"Your excelency" started the outsider, "I'm Naharia from Tanaris, ready to state my business". The Commander looked at her disinterested, as if he wasn't expecting her. "Go on then".

"I know the extreme situation in which the Alliance is in, and i know that equally extreme actions must be pursued. You see, i was an agent back in the fields of Arathi, lost the symmetry of my face against the worgs, and my qualms in the process. The enemy is savage and so we must become. Allow me to be the arm that crushes our enemies, sir." Her stare, the way she vocalized... She was seething in anger, a calmed wrath that made Neretta freeze on the spot. But she was pointed to enter the room, so she did, carefully.

"Your... excelency...?" Neretta said dubiously, not knowing what the protocol was and crudely imitating the human that came before her.

Naharia stared down at her, annoyed by her interruption, as one of the sand crawlers almost jump on the dwarf. The human quickly made a gesture that prevented the bloodshed, and Neretta got caught in the fight or flee response by the time being.

The commander cutted down this tense scenario by appealing to the dwarf. "Neretta! Pleasure to see you, have you met Naharia?" She looked at her awkwardly "No sir, I didn't have t-" they said at the same time, and stopped as soon as they noticed. They looked at each other even more awkwardly than before.

The Commander smirked. "Good. Naharia, close the door on your way out". The huntress looked at Neretta with a spark of fury, but quickly composed herself and left.

Neretta got very uncomfortable by this situation, but she was quickly interrupted by the Commander's voice again. "She's a wild one, a very reliable but merciless agent." Neretta didn't even hear him and asked impertinently "Did i do something wrong? Why did you call me?" A rush of thoughts drowned her mind. Was it because she was a friend of the Waycrests? Because she helped founding an inquisition without Alliance approval? Or because...

"Oh no, absolutely not, i've heard you were stellar in the battlefield." He replied, and a surge of relief invaded her. "It wasn't a battlefield sir it was a village full of innocent people" she replied, trying to hold the line between honesty and respect.

The Commander chuckled. "I really miss the dwarven people. I admire your sincere ways, you don't see lots of your kind around Kul'tiras. That humility, honesty and bravery is exactly what the Alliance needs right now, not blood-thirsty headhunters."

"Then why are you upset?" She answered, grabbing the line that he threw at her and making use of her 'honesty'.

"I am not, not with you at least. Look, we have a very delicate situation in hands with all the Kul'tiran politics. There's gonna be bloodshed and i need someone like you to turn the tide" He said, with a more firm tone than before, making clear that he was a Commander. "By murdering people?" She replied. "Not for sport, not for vengeance. Look kid, i have thousands of Naharias around me everyday. Do you think every Alliance soldier does this for the people? For the farmers and merchants? No, most of them are bloodthirsty animals at worst, and desperate seekers of glory at best. I need someone honest, a farmer with good hands and a better heart. I'm in dire need of a good person that can save as many regular folk as possible during this inevitable war."

Neretta got caught by surprise by those arguments. He seemed... Honest, and tired. She was good reading people, and the Commander was a good man. A good man in a terrible situation.

Neretta knew that if she didn't accept the job, some Naharia would do. Maybe she had to be the change she wanted to see in the world.

She was reluctant, of course. War is terrible, and being there is a nightmare but...

"I'll save as many as I can." She said, standing and shaking his hand.

The Commander smiled, relieved, as if he regained a little bit of faith in the army he was leading.