09/07/2018 23:42Posted by Vaalechttps://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/222063106753429504/466011007706202117/cNdSrLE.png
Stealth warriors are right behind you.
They look like talbuk farmers.
They look like talbuk farmers.
How appropriate, you look like a talbuk.
Why are you posting bushes and boxes? Post real content, please.
10/07/2018 00:12Posted by VaalecHow appropriate, you look like a talbuk.
This talbuk thing has gone too far.
I love that.
PSA: If you join this guild or accompany the guild anywhere that involves combat. You WILL get healed by Mahodail whether you like it or not.
Awesome skirmishes with you guys today! Plenty of rivalries forged! Let's look forward to more clashes!
nightborne reeeeeeee
fast as i am i cant outrun the pain this guild gives me
11/07/2018 12:07Posted by Flashfast as i am i cant outrun the pain this guild gives me
lionheart gives only love
11/07/2018 12:16Posted by Mythundis11/07/2018 12:07Posted by Flashfast as i am i cant outrun the pain this guild gives me
lionheart gives only love
lotheridan finds pleasure in making sure we all suffer, there is no love in this guild, only death
i told you this guild makes me suffer
12/07/2018 10:42Posted by Flashi told you this guild makes me suffer
Suffer no more, brave friend. Rest in peace.
The fastest paladin ever runs no more.
Now he's the fastest paladin in heaven owo :3c
this guild is complete trash
This guild is awesome. Looking forward for more clashs with you in BFA.
The first rays of sunshine crept over horizon as dawn had come. Despite having gone to bed late the night before, exhausted and aching, Carcaroth was already up. Even here, in the comfort of his own home laying next to his beautiful wife, his subconscious would not allow him more than a few hours of sleep at a time.
He shuffled out of bed as quietly as he could, throwing on a shirt and some pants before leaving the bedroom and heading to the room adjacent, where the twins were snoozing peacefully. Taking great care not to make noise, Carcaroth moved a chair to their cots and sat down to watch them silently as they slept.
Even fast asleep, the twins could not be more different from one another. Emily, so quiet and calm, laid just as perfectly still as she'd done when her father checked on her the night before. Aidan, however, had been tossing and tumbling where he lay. A smile tugged on Carcaroth's lips as he reached a hand down to stroke the tiny baby boy ever so carefully over his head.
Eleven days. He had been away from them for eleven days, fighting in the forests of Ashenvale against a war machine that had been too powerful and too vicious to stop. It felt like it had been a lot longer than eleven days. And yet, looking back, all Carcaroth could think about was that single, horrifying image that flared across his mind whenever he closed his eyes.
Teldrassil, the World Tree, illuminated in flames.
Everything that had happened after that moment was a blur. He could recall short moments at most; how they fled the battlefield as the Horde threatened to overwhelm them, how they amassed around the portal to Darnassus, how they rushed through the heavy smoke to find and rescue as many of the kaldorei as they could...
He jerked a bit as he was suddenly yanked out of his thoughts and back to the present. What had called him back to reality was the sound of Emily, softly murring. Carcaroth looked over into her cot and saw that she was awake, though definitely still sleepy. She squirmed for a moment, pushing her blanket away before gazing up at her father. And Carcaroth, looking into the eyes of his little daughter, was quickly able to return from that hole of despair that had been looming before him. Even now, having witnessed such an atrocity committed against the kaldorei people... he would not let despair take him. For the sake of his children, and his beloved wife, he would fight on.
"Hi sweety..." he muttered lowly, the smile on his face growing as he gently lifted Emily up from her cot and placed a light kiss on her forehead.
Outside, the sun had risen fully above the horizon.
It had been around twenty four hours since the Lionheart returned from Kalimdor, the guild hall was deathly quiet during the evening. From the tavern, candlelight lit up the room that Regina resided in. While the others slept, Regina sat at her desk working. For the past few hours, she had gone through all sorts of documents: Conflicting reports of all the events in Kalimdor, suspected eye-witness sightings of what happened... She had fought in a section of Ashenvale when the smoke tainted the skies, the burning husk of Teldrassil being observed from the beachhead where they fought on... She knew that Teldrassil had burned, but she didn't know how the tree set on fire: She needed the whole story.
Many of the reports were conflicted: The majority say that Sylvanas herself set Teldrassil aflame. Some say it was the Goblins. Some say it was the Orcs. Some blamed Azerite, rumours of it emerging in Darkshore had sprung up during the conflict. She had even heard rumours that it was that an evacuating Darnassus civilian accidentally left the Hearth on, though she didn't believe a simple hearth fire to ignite an entire world tree.
At the end of the day, she couldn't find out what caused the flames, nor could she find out what individual caused the flames... But it didn't matter to her: She knew the Horde was responsible. The Horde had marched on Kaldorei lands after all, it was obvious that the occupation or destruction of Teldrassil was the goal from the start.
Averting her gaze from the reports and documents she had managed to procure, Regina grabbed a notepad from her desk and walked over to her open window to gaze up at the night sky. As she stared at the night sky, she knew what was going to happen next: Open war. If Theramore caused open war to erupt between the two factions back when Pandaria's mists parted, Teldrassil's fall would no doubt cause a much larger war... But Regina wouldn't hold back, not anymore.
Regina peered down at her notepad: On the first page was a recipe for a poison, a very specific poison. If someone were to be inflicted with this poison, they would die a slow, but painful death. With enough effort the poison could be cured of course, but the pain beforehand would be agonizing. She had ordered several deadly herbs earlier via the black market to be delivered tonight, a service she didn't enjoy using but admitted it was necessary. Once the herbs arrived, she would get to work: To brew several vials of the poison. She estimated that with enough herbs she'd only have enough to fill a few vials, which meant she had to conserve her poison for the most brutal of Horde combatants.
Regina gazed up at the moons of Azeroth, thinking back to those who she saw evacuating Teldrassil. Too many had died that day: Men, women, the elderly and children... The Alliance saved all that they can, but it wasn't enough. They couldn't be brought back from the dead, but Regina believed they could be avenged: She believed the Horde will pay for their genocidal act of war with their lives.
Regina raised an eyebrow as she heard the door to her room unlock. Turning around, she found her aging Worgen butler Winfred standing in the hallway.
"My lady, the delivery of herbs has arrived. The Courier awaits payment and your signature."
Regina nodded, a frown on her face as she did so. She knew that whatever gods watched over the world would never approve of her preparing to brew such deadly toxins for warfare, but whenever she died she faced the afterlife knowing that she would one day pay for her deeds, but with no regrets. She had only one thing in her mind as she left her room.
'Everything that I do is for the greater good of Azeroth, so that one day no-one will have to walk the dark path that I have chosen'.
14/07/2018 12:59Posted by EnirousThis guild is awesome. Looking forward for more clashs with you in BFA.
I'm sorry dear but you're objectively wrong
The sands ran red with blood as the fighting went on near Zoram'gar Outpost. Both friend and foe fell as fatigue settled in and the smallest error cost them their lives. He, too, had taken quite a beating when faced against such adversaries. So many of them, but the Alliance was winning there and after that the fleet would arrive. It would all be over soon, he was sure of it. The Light ensured him of that.
"Teldrassil! The World Tree is burning!"
Those words dragged him right back to reality; this was war and thinking it to be over that quickly was a mistake. But he didn't expect it to go like this. The fighting calmed down for but a moment as people looked north to see the flames engulf the world tree. There were anguished cries, shrieks of sheer panic and rage at the horrifying sight. Not much later the battle resumed.
"What shall we do?! We need to pull back!"
"Hartford, we're not pulling back - we're winning!"
But were they really? He didn't - couldn't - give an answer straight away as a tauren hacked away at his shield with the burning silhouette behind the creature. With a mighty bash he forced him back and stepped over a corpse behind him, he knew there were more important things that needed to happen. There were people in there that had to be rescued.
When they came back to Stormwind, most of the Lionheart returned to the Guild Hall once the most pressing injuries were taken care of. Glaedr, Mythundis and their people parted ways to contemplate on what had transpired that evening and where to go from there. It was heavy for all of them, but most of all the kaldorei. The pain and rage he saw in their eyes made the loss of Teldrassil feel that much worse, hopeless.
Lotheridan dropped off his damaged gear - or well, most of it - and walked back to his home through the quiet woods of Elwynn. He was hurt and he knew it, but something kept him going. Where was the Light that promised you victory, paladin? A voice that was all too familiar whispered inside his head. He chose to ignore it, even in this deafening silence.
Stubborn as usual, as expected. Nonetheless you must know the Horde and the 'Queen' they serve have to be eradicated. There is no other way, Lotheridan. He took a deep breath, he didn't respond but he was listening and the voice knew that. The knight paused at the front door once he finally arrived, twisting the key in its lock before pushing the door open. There was a candle still burning on the table, likely left behind by his housekeeper.
Lotheridan walked over to the table, but didn't sit down. After all he'd gone through he couldn't just sit down, so he opted to wait until his body would simply collapse. What will you do now? Weep at the loss of life that could have been saved? That should have been saved? The voice mocked him, knowing well enough what response it'd provoke.
"No... No, I'm going to think." The paladin said, his voice quivering with emotion; anger for those he fought and grief for those lost. If anything it was clear that his thoughts were made up already. He'd seen the Horde cheer at the burning tree. It was them, they came not to conquer but destroy. Why would he not return that gesture in kind? It was the only thing suited for those cruel animals.
I don't think so, and neither do you. Just let it all go, Lotheridan. You know that this time, you can't remain calm. The paladin's gaze remained firmly on the flickering flame as the candle nearly burned out. He reached out for it, expecting to feel its warmth to guide him and keep his thoughts straight but all he felt was the cold, empty void. With a quick sweep of his left hand and a cry of frustration he flung the candle into the stone wall, soon shrouding the room in complete darkness.
Are you ready to begin?
"Yes."