The Burning Legion is defeated, Arthas sits on the Frozen Throne in Northrend, and Jaina Proudmore and Warchief Thrall have escaped to Kalimdor and formed a shaky truce with each other and the newly discovered Night Elves. Adventure awaits as the events of Warcraft 3: The Frozen Throne are over, and new heroes rise from the aftermath of the Third War.Based on the hugely popular Warcraft series of games, the World of Warcraft RPG (Revised Edition) is an exploration into Azeroth like never before.Run by the DM Vardaen
It has been five years since The Third War started and conflict still can be found at every turn.
Here continues the tale of a handful of would be heroes of the Horde...
The truce between the Horde and Theramore Isle is holding, but there are grudges on both sides. Both Alliance and Horde races expand across Kalimdor, settling in whatever habitable locations they can find. Lordaeron remains controlled by the undead, although a civil war rages between Arthas' Scourge and those undead who have broken his control, called the Forsaken. Demons roam freely across the world, terrorizing what few human forces remain. Although the world has suffered bloodshed and warfare for years, there is still no indication that the turmoil will end soon. Each of the mortal races begins to position itself for what could soon become the most crucial period of time in the world's history.
An Excerpt from Brann Bronzebeard To His Highness, King Magni Bronzebeard, Rightful Sovereign of Ironforge and Dun Morogh, and Grand Explorer of the Guild --
The Barrens are massive '€" it took days for me to cover the whole thing, even riding a borrowed ram for most of the journey. I left from Ratchet the Goblin Port town and traveled north exploring the other regions. After visiting several Horde settlements, I realized something important.
With the exception of the Forsaken, the Horde seems to have less tension among their races than we do in the Alliance. While I drink with humans and elves on a regular basis, and gnomes have always been our close friends, I rarely see the level of kinship among us as I saw among the Horde. I noted several mixed race groups practicing for contests in the Darkmoon Fair in Mulgore. To be blunt, I envy the amount of cooperation I saw here, and I'd like to see our own people get off their high horses and work together like this. The kinship here reminded me of what I saw in the Second War '€" I'm reminded of a high elf priest who saved my hide and nearly lost his own life in the process '€" and it's something I haven't personally seen much since within the Alliance. The Alliance needs a real smack in the face, because we aren't working as a team, and that needs to change '€" and fast.
The Barrens is a land of blasted rock and dirt, a sharp contrast to the surrounding lands. Perhaps the most important feature of the Barrens is that it is connected to so many other regions. From the Barrens, one can travel to Ashenvale in the north, Durotar in the northeast, the Stonetalon Mountains in the southwest, Mulgore in the west, Dustwallow Marsh in the southwest, and Thousand Needles in the south. One can reach any of these locations from a single road, and Crossroads provides flying mounts to the Horde as well. The central portion of the Barrens is almost all flatland, with a few trees and pools of carefully guarded water. The borders are marked with low mountain ranges that can be crossed with sufficient effort.
So it is that five days after returning to Ratchet, the group consisting of Sgt. Garruk, Grim Blackblade, The Shaman Lugar, Tuaren Druid Ogbar Grimtotem, and the Goblin Gizzik Mechmeddle find themselves treking across The Barrens north along the Gold Road from Ratchet to Crossroads. After the success of their previous mission to root out the traitors of the Black Dragonflight the four were hosted to a feast in their honor where Garruk was promoted to Seargent and offically given command of the group now considered a platoon under command of Lt. Match. The group enjoyed the feast, where the Warchief Thrall himself make a short appearance and praised the efforts of the group to keep the peace not only among the Horde but on Kalimdor itself. He spoke of high hopes for the five and the Horde in general.
The group took a few days off to rest and relax before they recieved word from Lt.Match that he was leaving for Crossroads on an important task, and that he wanted them to follow behind and meet him there a few day later. So the group packed up and set out from the Goblin town.
That is how we come to find them traveling through the hot sweltering Barrens this day. The sun is high in the sky, and sweat drips from the brow of each and every one of the five. The road is dusty and hard packed this far out of Ratchet. Its been a day and a half on the road and Crossroads still seems so far away...
Welcome to Chapter 2! Please post in with out regular awesomeness. You are on your way to meet Lt.Match in Crossroads. He didn't say much about why, just that he wanted you to meet him there. So off you go traveling to Crossroads. Its still a few days travel from here to there, and Ratchet is 1 Day behind you.
I also think it might be neat to name your party? A group name might add to more bonding, and perhaps you are debating that on the road now?
Last edited by Vardaen on Fri Feb 12, 2010 8:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"He that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." - Gandalf
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
Grim's boot leaves a dusty impression in the ground as he steps forward quickly. His mood is a happier today - though his face does not show it still holding his first name true - due to the two days of relaxation with ale and females. His step is lively and fast. He begins to think about the group around him. They are a force to be reckoned with. A force like this should have a name that strikes terror into the hearts of enemies. Random names pop into his head, "Orcish Thunder... Grim's Blackened Blade... Green Goobers... or not... Peons From Hell... Big Green Hammer" nothing really makes sense, not that it needs to in his mind. He, however, is a grunt and plays the role well. Not brining up this thought to the others... yet.
"The Clock of Life is Wound But Once"
-Some Old Guy
-Shinling
The newly-minted Sergeant Garruk enjoys the Barrens heat and dust, traveling with little speech until the sundry buildings and shacks of ratchet disappear, and the high spikes of the Horde's many outlying farms raise on the shimmering horizon. The night was long and ...festive, in every possible good way, but only now the weight of his new responsibility begins to sink in. The new lily-light blade at his side only seems to highlight the wavering confidence in his mind.
He swallows his doubts down for the moment, however, turns to the group and gives them a big grin. "Today we dine in Horde lands! Ever had Orgrimmar boar, Gizzik? It may just put you off gold," he says, turning some thoughts over in his head.
"We need a banner to go by, I think," he says, out of the blue, "a name for our band that is more easily said than 'three orcs, a tauren, and a goblin', that sounds more like a bad joke..."
"Perhaps a name to honor the fallen would be appropriate, such as Grim's Raiders? Or shall we be known to others by our deeds, as perhaps the Wyrmbane Marauders?"
"A name?" enquires Gizzik, stumbling clumsily along the Gold Road ten paces behind the others.
"Ahh! I know how about "'Gizzik's Gutrippers'? Or 'Mechmeddle's Mob'?"
His comrads continue quietly plodding along in front, without acknowledging his suggestions.
"Guys? Hello? Hey! Don't like those names huh? Ok. Well how about 'Gizzik's Gang'? 'Mechmeddle's Murderer's'? Gizzik's Unyielding Hand of Death'? Yeah that's it! Guys? Are you listening?"
Still silence. The pace of the group seems to pick up slightly and Gizzik stumbles forwards gasping for breath, his little legs working double time to keep up with his taller friends. It's almost as if they're trying to leave him behind!
The Tauren is quiet as is normal for the big cow-man. More heavily wreathed in fur than the others, the Barrens is significantly hot, and sweat constantly rolls off of the big druid. Luckily, he doesn't wear much in the way of clothing and that helps.
For the moment, he speaks not at all, mulling over all the names already spewed.
Finally, sonorously, he adds to the conversation. "I think it'd be best to go by deeds done so far, instead of by names."
The young shaman smiles brightly in the heat of Kalimdor. It's this exposure to the sun and the open sky which he loves and yearns for, and even in this heat his spirits are high.
Listening to the conversation at hand, he nods in agreement with Ogbar's words, and says, "Yes. Deeds, not words. Its not the way of the Horde to set up pretenses. Leave that to the humans and dwarves."
The Three Orcs, a Tauren and an Goblin move along the road, the dirt kicks up from under your boots and hooves, and the sun beats down on you. A few names are bandied about, and the heavily loaded Goblin struggles to keep up with the others as he shifts his packs and double times it to stay within earshot of the group.
The brown terrain is either flatlands or rocky plantless vistas (much like the southwest of the US). Small scrub plants do dot the area here and there and rocky ravines or outcroppings are home to various wild animals; the most dangerous among them here are the Quillbeasts or Wild Boars, if you don't count the scorpions and snakes.
The trip will take a few more days to reach Crossroads, and so you have time to talk about a possible name for your group. You leave the last remains of civilization behind you, and are now out in the wild; Lugar and Ogbar thrive in the wild, and the others do well in various degrees, the little goblin probably the worst.
The night arrives and you set up your camp, and sit around a small campfire eating some roasted rattle snake that Lugar captured for the group (it tastes like Kodo!). The sky is a cloudless bowl of black with hundreds of stars dotting it. The wind is now cool and dusty blowing through the rocks that you have set up as your camp. Shadows from the fire dance on the faces of the group as you sit and eat and talk of your travels and your adventures so far.
"He that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." - Gandalf
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
Grim looks at the others in the dark light, ".. remember the sound that the skull made when I cracked it with my shield!.." weather this is what the group is talking about or not, does not really concern him. His mind is distant as he is aimed more at rest. ".. I don't like them big lizard.. dragon... things..." ya, he's not all here today.
"The Clock of Life is Wound But Once"
-Some Old Guy
-Shinling
Garruk thinks on the input of his companions with care, throughout the day. By nightfall, as they rest by the fire, crunching on snake bones, he nods in agreement at the prevailing sentiment. "Deeds it is, then. The weight of our dead Captain's sacrifice will be carried in our victories. While we cannot call ourselves Dragonslayers, we have proven ourselves against their servants, including one of their hateful spawn."
The orc thinks hard for a moment, and continues, his brow furrowing with the effort of the rare activity. "What we did in that cave was blunt and bloody just one piece of their threat. We tore off that claw before it could strike. I find it fitting that for our deeds we take our name as the Talonbreakers. Thoughts?"
Gizzik is uncharacteristically quiet through the evening, sitting on a log by the fire listening to his comrades regale one another with old anecdotes from their joint past, and perhaps feeling a bit left out. He shivers at the cool breeze, his knees knocking together, and jumps at the occasional howl from the native beasts of the Barrens, probably to the amusement of his more hardened companions.
He is still fairly new the adventurer's lifestyle, and was somewhat disappointed to leave his old hometown of Ratchet so soon after having returned. Still, his travels so far with the group have been most profitable, and he takes comfort from the fact that this time he wont have to face Kalimdor alone. Perhaps this time he won't end up locked away in a cell!
He snaps out of his daze as the conversation returns to the name their party should adopt. A grin grows on his face at Garruk's suggestion.
"Talonbreakers eh?! Sounds good" he says nodding vigorously.
