Lots of fun events went down this week with more to follow. Make sure to catch us in and around Orgimmar before Thursday to enlist so you’re able to join us for the next!
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This guild is Lok’tar certified.
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I’m interested to work as Horde Operative on my Draenei! Accepting unforms and what not. I’m very active too!
I don’t think you’d get through the interview stage on account of us killing Draenei on sight.
#NoPrisoners
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We have options open for the Draenei:
https://wow.gamepedia.com/Path_of_Glory
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I feel so warm and welcomed ![:revolving_hearts:](https://d1bg94bbsh66ji.cloudfront.net/en/wow/images/emoji/twitter/revolving_hearts.png?v=6" ":revolving_hearts:")
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Don’t make me steal that winterveil hat of yours and stuff it somewhere, where the sun doesn’t shine, orc! I’m very serious here!
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The Thirteenth has saved Winter Veil for the denizens of Mulgore by beating up a bunch of gnolls and retrieving the stolen presents so the poor Tauren children may enjoy the holidays!
Now we’re back in full force beating Drakkari into submission and keeping Orgrimmar safe!
Heroes, not grunts.
Join us TODAY.
Merry Winter Veil!
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Every Orc down in Orgrimmar liked Winter’s Veil a lot…
But the Rotgarde, who were staying in the barracks, most certainly did NOT.
They hated Winter’s Veil, the whole damned season,
Many have asked why, they were executed for treason.
It could be their flesh, which went more mouldy each night,
It could be, perhaps, that they had run out of Blight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all,
May have been that their armour was ten ilvls too small.
Whatever the reason, their Blight or their armour,
They stood there on Winter’s Veil, hating every Alliance soldier and farmer,
Staring down from the barracks with an angry, undead frown,
At the Wyvern’s Tail entrance, and a drunk Orc laying face down.
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As the last rays of sunshine peeked over the dusty orange spires surrounding Orgrimmar, illuminating the dark barracks hall with a faint glow, Apawi gently hit a small mallet onto a nail, until it was halfway stuck in the noticeboard. She wiped a hand over the note she had just pinned, straightening out the paper which read.
“All Scouts, Grunts and Raiders are off-duty for the rest of the day, and the next day. Enjoy this short leave with your family and loved ones.
Signed, Sergeant Summersnout.”
She sighed as she grabbed a hefty backpack and hurried her way out, making haste to avoid any bothersome questions about her plans for the season.
It was already well past sunset once Apawi arrived. The chirping of crickets and the rustling of the tall grass was accompanied by the stomping of her kodo’s feet as it marched along the Gold Road. Her sour expression turned even more grim, as she climbed down the kodo’s saddle and walked over to the pyresites, leaving the beast to graze. She walked for what felt like ages, passing by the long-extinguished pyres of those who perished in Taurajo, every burnt-out shadow she passed, felt like one too many.
Eventually, Apawi sat down in front of three pyres; A larger one, flanked by two small ones. She closed her eyes and forced a smile, pulling the heavy bag from her back, and placing it on her lap. As parted its straps and opened the flap, she broke the eerie silence.
“I’m sorry it has been so long since I visited.” she spoke, taking out four wooden cups from the sack. She placed one in front of each gravesite, and kept one for herself. She screwed the lid off a metal canister and poured tea, still lukewarm, into the cups.
As she drank from her own, she stared down at her hooves. In years past, she enjoyed this quiet. Now she dreaded it, because she knew the silence could only be broken by her own voice, and not that of her mate, nor of her children.
She did not bother to keep track of time, instead keeping her eyes closed, trying to reminisce about the cozy, warm Winter Veil Eves she missed so much. She let most of her own tea go cold without realising, grimacing briefly as she brought it to her lips to drink.
She snorted and emptied the cup in the soil, placing it aside. She took out several small, linen pouches, smelling strongly of cinnamon, containing sweet baked goods. And just like with the tea, each gravesite received one.
“I was lucky, you know. These were the last of the bunch. If I had gone to the bakery any later, I would not have had any for you.” she said, with another feigned smile. ‘Who am I even fooling?’ She thought to herself. ‘They are gone, and you have yourself to blame for it.’
She snorted and tried to dispell the thought by occupying her mind with something else. She reached into the bag again, and took out a carved, hollow piece of wood. A simple flute, lacking any excess. She brought the mouthpiece to her lips, and gently blowed through it. It took her several times to get the first sounds right, but she was too stubborn to give up, even as the burning pain on her fingers and palms made playing more difficult than ever.
‘https://youtu.be/goMyPwSMVr0’
Even at the end of the piece, she did not give her own mind the space to wander. She sang her prayers with a shaky voice. Singing praise to the Earthmother and Skyfather, and praying for a gentle winter for her and her loved ones. ‘Begging for false promises.’ she thought to herself, but in the face of the graves of her family, she did not want to let her cynicism and despair show.
Even the most stalwart and stubborn are grasped by exhaustion after a while. Slowly, Apawi drifted off, her cheeks warm and wet with tears, and holding on to a faint hope that tomorrow, she would be with the ones she failed.
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Big hearts. Strong arms.
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His hooves are too big . . .
It was all she saw in Judaha, and one of the strangest things to see in him. Behind him, gold glimmered, and cast itself in place of his shadow like the source of all light in the cold, dreaded night — but it was not what she saw. More often than not, she knew she had to stop. Sooner or later, staring at the face the man couldn’t see grew as rude to her in her thoughts to her as staring at someone with a visible disability. Difference should not invite gawking, and so she should stop. The Spiritwalker had told her better, after all.
More often than not, though, she saw both. The shadow and the caster, and it drew her in. Was this what the shoveltusks had talked about? The blood on the grass, the hops in the air. They eluded her with their distant tongues, jumbled through the air like lights skirting the sky. Was it his blood? Or hers? Did this matter, or was she reaching? It was starting to confuse her … of all the things to see in him, it was a single sight that scratched at her mind, like an old forgotten memory that sparked itself to life.
Bearan made such large prints in the soil, and as fun as Judaha had walking in his father’s hoofsteps, his were still too small to fully take his father’s prints.
Soon her gawking had to have her realise; the sight she was seeing was never her own.
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The boy needs to get BIGGER HOOVES!
No room in my Horde for SMALLHOOVES!
The Hand of Conquest is stationed in the Conquest Hold! They will be back in Orgrimmar in full force soon.
Following examples from other guilds we are looking into expanding our uniform policy:
On duty: You use your uniform and assigned equipment. The exception to this change is no tabard, instead you are required to cover yourself in body oil at all times; especially when attending the HoC or Orgrimmar local gym.
Off duty: You are to keep a Hand of Conquest red theme.
Underwear: Banana hammocks and tight speedo pants with Horde symbols on the fronts and back. Stretching such underwear will be considered a sign of disgrace to the symbol and will be punished with flogging. When on duty and in uniform you will be required to sometimes emoting your underwear ‘chafing’ or being unreasonably ‘too tight’ to be practical.
I will personally be wearing a red mankini on Pullo to accommodate these changes. Members and the community are welcome to give their feedback on these changes.
EDIT: upon some feedback internally I’ve been informed on the correct spelling of ‘mankini’ not ‘man-bikini’
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The levels of patriotism is reaching critical.
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@Eirdarias Can we have this as well? But more…Elven!
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Now’s the chance to enlist before we’re out fighting for our Warchief again, approach your local friendly, strongest, grunts today - fuel the Horde war machine!
Since we returned to Orgrimmar there’s been a lot of fun social interactions throughout the week with events to follow!
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After dealing with mysterious reports of Kaldorei sightings and exploding kodos in the Barrens, the Thirteenth investigates how the Elves managed to enter Horde lands with such ease.
Upon finding a completely abandoned border post, they are left with more questions than answers. Evidence points towards a quick withdrawal of Horde forces, but several partially burned letters indicate foul play.
And so ends the first chapter of “The Missing Legion”, the plot thickens!
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We’re stationed now at Camp Ataya in Feralas!
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