A trodden band journeys into the Midwest, hearkened to bad rumours and troubled intent. The rangers are looking for friend and foe alike, in the wild nothings of Lordaeron, be they simple travellers at the Hillsbrad crossroads, or enemies in the mountains.
Currently encamped in the Hillsbrad Foothills, the rangers look for new challenges and new faces on their way to further events and daunting tasks.
Settle by the camp 
and brave the wilderness!
Ran into these folks last summer, I think?
Theyâre good.
Iâve only ever had good interactions with these people. Recommended!
Top ranger bois, had some good times trawling around with this lot during Theatres of War last year - got the ranger vibe down to a T.
35-03-08 - Of Knights and Gnolls
It was said that a band of armed knights took to the venture of a gnoll hunt, deep in the Sundown Marshes where decrepit waters lie, and aiding the gallants in their quest; to trail and spy over the vastness of the Wetlands, were the surly rangers, avowed to ward the Eastern Kingdoms against the man-eating mongrels of the Mosshide.
https://imgur.com/a/YjsNWbV - Credit to Stuart of the Broken Tower for taking these event snaps
Kump sends his regards;
35-03-14 - Sacred Stone and Black Ooze
As trouble brews in the Foothills, the roadworn rangers, and the knights delve the trail beneath the humid Wetlands, into the halls of sacred stone and black ooze. There, beneath the arches of Ironbeardâs Tomb, are pondered the hunched race of gnoll, and the dark master that bid them forth.An adversaryâs name fills the empty halls, when spoken aloud from the annals of fear in the mouths of dead dwarves. Black ooze slithers out of living rock, to dissolve the flesh of men, and only fire keeps them at bay.
A party of men, in grey, black, and white are seen passing the Arathi Highlands, thence encamped out of sight and trail.
https://imgur.com/a/WFvO6CR - Credit to Stuart for taking these event snaps.
The journey continues into the Arathi Highlands. Many thanks to the Broken Tower for some hearty adventures.
35-03-20
With the far reaches of the land made impassable to them, the knights and the rangers sought the yet prosperous kingdom of Stormwind, where a fair city rose above an Elwynn woodland, and old friends were reacquainted; their memory faintly reminisced.But the maze-like streets of a city, yields no use for rangers, and so our warring vagabonds turned to distant rumour, of troll raids and terror, abound a former Brightwood, where dwelt spiders and ghouls. Beyond; the inconstant jungle, a land of vines and poisonous snakes, where dwelt the troll thugs within their ancient city.
As fell powers bid forth mangy wolves to hunt the travelling company, there broods the danger of troll adversaries, and passing orc tribes. Yet in such affray, whether in beleaguered Lordaeron, or the distant lands; the Lordamere Rangers find their element.
The journey continues, now between a sad forest, and a harrowing jungle. Find your ranger today 
sniff
Felt proper stalked by you lot icly, top stuff.
35-03-23
In the town long left in the lurch, once of Sunnyglade, ravens perched upon the graven hill. Here, a monumental mound lay pocketed with its old ways of grave-dig, and the hollows of the dead men were breathing holes of an impenetrable darkness, summoning wretched things. On that night, a single happy dint of light shone from the contumely remembered town of Raven Hill, surrounded by maven hearts, and an outer ring of torches, to keep away critters and dregs from the periphery.These visitors, fugacious in their coming into the depressed precipice, stayed and went, watching the path of webbed straight-road that treks to the rickety jungles, cannily for the loom of wretched troll abduction, and purloining moss from headstones erelong the cemetery lane. These wandering souls, kept sheen of adventurous tools, from the fire-flint, to the glint of steel blades, that were used by wieldy hands to stave off mist-encroaching fiends of MurâGhoul, and hunt a mud-eating beast in the catacombs.
Behind these meander, foolsome adventures troubling the long sleep of the Hill, there were the rangers, the road-knights, and the mercenaries. There were peddlers, and there were couriers, old acquaintances and new ones, drunkards and larrikins, gnomes and their inventions. There told a hearty tale of the bustle, and the clutter on the Hill.
The Lordamere Rangers spent the night braving the precipice of Raven Hill, together with the likes of the Bloodied Goats and the Broken Tower knights, as well as a varied other cast of awesome characters. Big thanks, people! It was fun.
Great times in Duskwood, always lovely to run into the Rangers in the rare moments our paths intertwine!
I cross my fingers and sincerely hope that more opportunities arise for interactions in the future.
Always a pleasant gang to drift along with. I Will certainly be one to cross roads with them more in the future.
Anyway I thought they were cool so I joined the guild 
35-04-03 - THE RED FIRE THAT SPURNS
âWe broke their chapter, but they are like weeds. Lest rooted out completely, they will regrow, and their hideouts are plenty in the weald.â
-Sir Agantyr Brenth
A crimson name was spoken from the mouths of manic proselytes in the black land of Lordaeron, when the dint-light of its long-fading creed began to plant new seeds of doubt and misery in the far corners of the depleted kingdom. Summoned forth from their hiddenness, there resurfaced men of ill repute, whose cohorts and semblant hosts had chanted the fervour of Saidan Dathrohan in the days gone by, and in tribute to the thick smoke that rises eternally from the burning city, they had brought the Red Fire that Spurns to the other lands of men. It were the days of the Year 34, the year that the Undercity fell, that this Hilt-cult was brought to its knees by its countless enemies; dismantled and disunited, thence scattered into hiding, to the far corners of the world. The year 35 was then upon the Lordaeron lands, when the remnants saw fit to return, beating their drums with new, incipient cacophony, and wreaking havoc with their crusaders, and fanatics in force.
It was across the river Thondroril, that the Lordamere Rangers beheld the sight of that red, risen flame, when its wicked men stalked between the mountains, and the Darrowmere shore. Many were there, replenished and full of vigour, with this Seal of Dathrohan, and between their warring havoc, and the darkness that hung over Alterac â were made the lands to the west, and the lands of Eastweald, a perilous trek beyond measure. There, their danger brooded, and word of it soon travelled past Thandol Span.
âMore worrying, however, is the word from the north, Captain, that is the reason I had wished to speak with you. The pilgrims bring word of a Scarlet insurrection above the Span. I had hoped you would know more.â
-Brother Alfyn of Northshire
Against such overwhelming odds as were impending with the nascent red-hoodsâ hegemony, the heirs of green and grey would not seek battle alone, but would wander far into the prosperous realms below, wherein the gardens and the taverns of a King, they bargained a warbandsâ worth with the likes of Stuart, Davech, and Amberden - stalwart knights of the Broken Tower, with whom they had shared long journey-trek, over fen and dell. Unto this bandied pact, were knit, for the promise of red wrath, gold, or glory, the mercenaries from the company of Eisteynn Barnekowâs Bloodied Goats, as well as other, olden adversaries of the Red Fire, in men like Agantyr Brenth, the hedge knight, who had partaken in the manhunt of 34. Herewith these pilgrims and riders, with their ire bidden out of idle peace, there resembled a mission, to pilfer renown, and disenthrall the broken kingdom from its usurpers - seeking the heart of the Grand Crusaderâs burning legacy. Lost to all was the City of Men, the one wreathed in ashen flame.
Driven to seek reinforced measures, the Lordamere Rangers, have began the long and dangerous journey back to their home, joined with allies in the Bloodied Goats, and the Broken Tower, as well as others, as their great tatter-host goes to tangle with a merciless adversary on the loose.
Many thanks to all the people involved. The journey begins again!
very cool the writing is always top tier +
35-04-03 - TROGGSLAYERS
With grave business at hand beyond the Thandol Span, the rangers, the goats, and the knights left the city of Stormwind, on the third day that month. Emerging from the dark mechanicsâ tunnel, whose marvel of apparatus expressed the strange ingenuity of all gnomecraft, they came into the cold lands of Dun Morogh, to trudge through deposits of snow, sculpted by the whim of the northern wind. When passed, the riders and pilgrims the sacred valley of the kings, they beheld the statues of the olden dwarves with mirth and marvel.
The town of Thelsamar ever suffered the looming presence of troggs from the Stonesplinter Valley, where dwelt that hideous people in dark caves, stealing away rams, ponies, and spices to their lairs at night. It were on that of a hunt for boar and grizzlepaw, that the towering dwarf-slayers, with hands and hides like that of stone, stole away the companion Shavka, to make her into trogg-soup, with their purloined cauldron. As the eyes of glittering stars dotted the sheet of night sky, our tattered friends rallied a rescuing party, driving a wedge into the dale of the Stonesplinters, and emerging with shining blades into the mountain-mouth that fumed with the stench of trogg. From out of the monstersâ hollow, and the bloodied affair that followed, the party emerged with merry victory, and Shavka, as slayer of trogg chiefs. The young man Conleth had entered, a wanderer, but emerged, a ranger of Lordamere, letting on his half-heritage, and elven secrethood. The ranger heartened henceforth, to be known as Ithendil - given to him by the Farstriders of old.
With the small hours creeping by, and the peaceful town of Thelsamar turning in its sleep, the angry voice of Brogg, the infamously cunning monster of the Stonesplinter Valley, boomed tauntingly in the Loch-land, with his fell eyes seeking those that trespassed his domains. Wherein the Stoutlager Inn, an old face and friend, revealed himself to the grey fellowship, as the Dwarves of Hiddenhold joined the tatter-host, along their graven quest, in the ruins of Lordaeron.
Last night began the journey, as more adventurous faces answered the call to bloody affairs in the Eastweald! The party presses on soon, from Thelsamar, now in the company of the dwarves that sound of Hammers and Hollows.
34-04-07 - THE TOWERS OVER THONDRORIL
The Eastweald, where once lay the great jewel of all the collective Northlands in Lordaeron, was a misshapen, writhing place of nightmarish atrophy, with its swollen and distended trees groaning to the nauseating stench of decaying men, and where the the guttural ghoulsâ song was chanted on high note, as the dark creatures dined in the gullies. Here in the plaguelands, be they treacherous moors, or festering woods, there hid devils of every sort, and it was here that the Lordamere Rangers, and the knights of the Broken Tower, amongst other staunch warriors, would begin their hunt for the Seal of Dathrohan. They had arrived the night before, and had troved the two towers of the Thondroril bridge with arrows of bodkinhead, and rocks, fortifying the olden precipice. Facing east, Sir Davech raised the lion banner high, and above the grey river where flowed water out of the mountain creaks, the blue cloth fluttered with the wind. Awaiting Barnekow and his Bloodied Goats, they would dwell in the bridge, for days to come.
Stillness broke, on the seventh day that month, when the fell men of the Crimson Legion made their presence known, and a company of red-clad warriors came out of the eastern darkness, chanting words of fervent and feverish âblood and faithâ. As ranger men nocked their arrows upon the parapets, the mounted warriors charged mightily out of the gate, and met the Scarlet with wrath. As Stuart and Agantyr drove long spears into the red lines, Davech held the standard, as Amberden and the ranger Eadmaer hewed the red cacophonies with their swords, making the first of the foe scatter and retreat.
A second company of crazed red warriors, far more numerous, soon followed, and as their wicked footmen marched up the Kingâs Road in an orderly fashion, the rangers sprang into the veiling thicket of the trees, and perched atop a high hill, where sang their bows of whistling shafts and arrowheads to feather scarlet bodies and shields, just before the mounted company crashed once more into the closely knit line of the red. Out of broken ranks beckoned the killing field, greatswords and hatchets swinging out of the shadows to draw upon the ghoul-beckoning red blood, and the brayings of the fanatic beckoned divine interference, to wreathe themselves in ill will, and devoted malice, upon these warriors of the hedge and the road. With grievous injury come to both sides, the contenders of the Kingâs Road soon found that they were evenly matched and withdrew with their wounded after vigorous battle.
Battle was fought against the hated Seal of Dathrohan, in the Eastern Plaguelands. Many thanks to these guys, as well as everyone else who took part.
Are there any race restrictions? 
We donât actually know for sure until we interract with a character, whether or not this character would become a ranger of that creed. We only know, when the story runs its course.
That said, the Lordamere Rangers is a human guild, at its core.
