[H-RP] IC to other RP guild leaders

This expansion has certainly been divisive in its story! Consider this letter sent to the heads of your guild, whenever they reach the point in their timeline where “The Baine Thing” happens. Rather than write all the leaders of the guilds Anroka is familiar with individually through ingame mail, it seems more efficient to place the message here for all to read. If there are folks that wish to base RP on these ongoing events, I would happily take part in that.

These are the words of Anroka Scaleslicer, daughter of Agram Skullslinger, Champion of the Hand of the Titans.

This is a letter to those I respect the most. The leaders that have fought by my side. My comrades with which I have shed blood. The brothers and sisters I have bled with, and for.

I send you these words, that you may understand my decision. That you may hear it from me, first-hand. That you have the answers for those that follow you. Ancestors willing, you will not tear them apart before you reach the end.

I just had a difficult meeting with my forces, about what you must have received word of as well by now. Baine broken out of Orgrimmar to escape execution. This war has had many twists and turns, none of which have been easy for anyone.

We had an easy time justifying the War of Thorns itself, but things came apart with the burning of Teldrassil. A senseless slaughter that made Theramore look like child’s play. Many saw dishonor in this, and feared a return to the times of Garrosh Hellscream.

I disagreed. There were no repercussions to speaking out. Those that disagreed, had the chance to fight for that view and keep honor alive within the Horde. The Horde was a force with no alternatives, so we would shape it from within, for the good of its people. Win this war, the way it should be won.

We held the lines against the Alliance, and did work I will always be proud of on Zandalar. But the war remained clean on neither side. The fallen were desecrated and a city turned into a trap at the Battle for Undercity. Tricks and assassination slew a king and blew up a fleet. And slowly, Horde leaders have been pushed off stage.

Varok Saurfang, highest leader of the Orcs, became hunted like a traitor. Baine Bloodhoof was arrested, and with that, it was open season for “traitors”. No longer were words against Sylvanas welcome in the Horde. Suddenly we had to watch what we said again, just like under Garrosh. Changing the course of the Horde became out of the question.

I predicted the Banshee Queen’s next move would be a scheme to overcome the threat of the Alliance fleet. I did not predict she would accomplish it by luring it out over the Naga city of Nazjatar. There is no doubt in my mind that she knew its location in advance, and hoped to provoke the Naga into a disastrous attack. Same way I do not doubt she placed the Elven leaders on those ships deliberately. What I doubt much more, is that those elven leaders themselves were informed of her plans to sacrifice them.

And now Go’el Thrall is on the list of those wanted for treason, for saving Baine Bloodhoof, High Chieftain of the Tauren, from the executioner’s axe. And we once again face the challenge of seeing if we know the difference between loyalty, and obedience. I know their will be some that fear changing course now. That will say that division in the Horde could weaken it to the Alliance. To those that will act out of fear I say: You are unworthy of calling yourself Horde. The Horde is for the courageous and strong of heart. For those that find honor in Victory or Death. For those that forge their own path, rather than take the easy one.

Division is here. Avoiding it is no longer an option. It is the job of the Warchief to lead the Horde united, and it is falling apart. That means Sylvanas has failed as Warchief. By the very definition of the role. The path should now be clear.

My people largely have no doubts in this. Sylvanas’ arrows are aimed at the Tauren people. The only ones that have been giving a damn about actually helping our world. Despite all the things I have mentioned, it is even simpler for me: Go’el Thrall will always have my axe. And I pray that he will have your strength as well.

The Horde has fallen apart before. And I was on the wrong side of that, for too long. I will not repeat my past mistakes, and I hope you will not either. For the values, victories and bonds we have shared, I ask you to stand with us. For the Horde, for Azeroth, for the good of our people. Ancestors willing, we will stand and fight side by side again.

And if you are not willing to do so… Then stay out of our way.

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Cackles in Forsaken

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Cracks knuckles.
Finally solid proof!

Zycorax makes sure the letter is handed over to the proper authorities. Her suspicions have finally been validated.

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It had found her in the early hours of the morning. A letter, signed by the all too familiar hand of her once good friend. There was no mistake to it.
Her eyes traced the ink as it swirled across the parchment. Over and over, searching for any signs of deceit or forgery. Any chance that this was some sort of a joke - but the Lieutenant found nothing to indicate that might be the case.

The feeling that followed was largely unfamiliar to her. It was as if something heavy and dark sank in her gut alongside the realisation of what her friends truly were. Traitors.
Alliance sympathizers who would stand down to allow these men in blue to eradicate both her, and her people.
Betrayal wasn’t a feeling unfamiliar to her, but this time it struck hard. By the time she had read the letter for the sixteenth time, she still felt dazed.

That was how her Serjeant found her. Stood by her desk with a distant look settled on something he could not see. She barely heard him as he asked if she was okay. Instead of responding, she elected to slide the letter his way, across the table.

She’d been betrayed.

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[Lawson takes a moment to read through the letter.]

[He pats Melany on the shoulder.]

“Let’s cause some trouble, Lieutenant.”

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BAD ZYC.
sprays with water

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It was too late to stop her, decisions were made and Zycorax acted too swift for any true interception, regardless of the fact that any attempt to do so would put Aiyvah’s neck on the line, also. News travelled fast, agreeable or otherwise, and as much as Aiyvah agreed with Anroka’s sentiments… she could not afford to stand with them. She had hesitated too long to whack Zycorax over the head with something big and heavy now and worry began to flip her stomach as a few individuals came to mind. It was too risky to see them now… if she’d ever see them again at all.

Yet, as Aiyvah recalled over some of the words of the letter, she sat back at her desk and a small, coy smirk curled the corners of her lips. She sounded smug even in her own head.

About time, Titans.

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Join the rebellion!

We have cookies and Kimble.

What struck Anrithen the most was how long it took to hit. Sitting by the light of the shard of pale blue and gold that illuminated the parchment, he considered. It was a copy, carefully made, the real thing with the Warchief’s people already. His eyes darted through the lines one more time, the substance coursing through him, and as the nobleman’s gaze moved impassively through the contents, what he felt was finally clear to him.

It was relief. The time for pretense would soon pass. He had no illusion that many others wouldn’t follow. Not with Thrall and the orcish general at the helm. Heirs and servants of the orc who had allied with the Amani and nearly put Quel’thalas to the torch. The same orc who had the temerity to then ask them to prove themselves before him. Who had appointed Hellscream. Now when the Horde was finally of use to the Sin’dorei, he and his followers would have it revert to form. To a future where Proudmoore and the void elves would go unchecked, where Quel’thalas would be either destroyed or a vassal, held eternally at the edge of a knife.

The very thought had his blood boiling, but it excited him too. The time had finally come to finish the work of the Second War. Of the Siege of Orgrimmar. It was time to bring justice to his people’s enemies.

Anrithen thumbed the azerite shard in his hand, letting its magic flow through him. Relief turned to expectation and expectation to relish. He would enjoy this.

Great letter, Caer. Look forward to the inevitable showdown.

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"And? What do you think?" asked Bamboo’Chaa as he watched the letter he had brought back from the Echo Isles burn.

The High Priestess shook her head. “Foolish. Brave but foolish.”

“That’s Orcs for ya. But you must admit, she’s not wrong.”

“True. But I would not sign my own death warrant by sending out letters like these.”

“Neither would I but I am certain she is aware of the risk. The question is, what will we do?”

“Our mission. Serve the will of the Loa and protect our people.”

“It was by the supposed will of the Loa that Sylvanas became Warchief but you know as well as I that we might have been duped and if so, if our faith was used against us, it is our sacred duty to right that wrong.”

“I agree. But an open rebellion at this point would only weaken the Horde and leave us open to an attack.”

“That was also a risk during the Darkspear Rebellion.”

“And it could have been the end. The Alliance won’t simply walk away this time.”

Bamboo’Chaa sighed loudly.

“You’re right. But if Sylvanas plans to act with the same brutality towards the Tauren as Garrosh did towards our tribe then I see no other option …”

“That coin is still in the air. Keep to the shadows until it lands.”

“As you wish, High Priestess.”

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Champions of Azeroth cannot take positions in the Alliance/Horde conflict, nor openly declare for any political factions within any city. But I can say one thing. I, personally, am always happy to see people stand in the face of villainy and oppression to fight for honor and justice. I am not describing a specific faction, of course. Just my moral values.

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Evelyn Rosemary reads the letter.

But it doesn’t even seem to phase her. The words written by Anroka does not ring true to her ears.

It had come to her attention that Baine had been imprisoned, but his escape, and this sudden rush of rebellion, sounds to Evelyn like the Titans -wants- to rebel. They want to make this as it was with Garrosh. They want Sylvanas to be another Garrosh.

While Evelyn does not always agree with the Dark Lady, Evelyn does not want another rebellion, not if it can be helped.

So as Evelyn finishes reading the letter, she burns it not replying to it, nor does she aknowledge it was sent to her. She cannot lead her Coven into another rebillion that is not based on solid evidence yet. She can’t afford that.

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The letter is delivered through official Horde channels.

Unto Champion Anroka Scaleslicer of the Hand of the Titans, General Torakk Bloodrain of the Beastmaw Warband sends greetings.

Our respect is mutual, let that be known. The battles we have shared are countless, and I have long lost track of which one of us owes the other a favor, for the Hand have long shaped a reputation as reliable and trustworthy allies. I have known you to be a good warrior, yet a warrior sees a battle through till the end. Which is why I hope you take a seat and read this carefully.

I know where this stems from. You told me once before that you wish to raise your standing in the Horde, that you wish to be elevated to the rank of General. My advice to you back then was to earn it by fighting the enemies of the Horde, who at the time, just like now, were Alliance. And so you did: you bled at Dazar’alor, and your warriors fought valiantly helping my warband seize control of Blackwarden Keep.

You cannot pick these cactus apples and discard the rotten ones. They all come from the same cactus.

Your grab for power is ill-timed. Your rise must come in adherence to a code of honour; not at the cost of security, be that of the Horde, or of those who follow you. Not while the pikes of the real enemy are still pointed at us. Those that a proud warrior has sworn to protect will heed your words and flock to you out of fear, for the security they were promised will be compromised. And so long as you preach fear and mistrust, you bare them all to outside threats. If you mark yourself a renegade, you force the hand of others to hunt not only you down, but them too. For the good of those loyal to you, reconsider. Do not brand them enemies of the Horde in the middle of a war. And make no mistake, the Alliance will not treat you any different for it.

At Blackwarden, I gave you a writ. In it, I put my name and my honour as I vouched for your loyaty to the Horde, to wipe away whatever doubts anyone you had involved yourself with might have had. If you go down this path, you betray not the Horde alone, but the bond we have shared since the Blasted Lands. It is a breach of trust that cannot go overlooked.

For the Horde

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The mage sits in the dirt of Bilgewater, outside a tavern. Despite the summer warmth and the hot goblin smoke in the air, the glare of the moon shines cold in the sky above. Keliera shivers, reading the copied letter again.

By this point, the tears had stopped rolling down her cheeks into the dirt below. So it has begun, she thought to herself, all over again. She turned over a jeweled ring in her hand, once, twice, three times. There is no coming back this time. No friendly rebellion. Whatever we choose here, we win or we die.

There was no time left to choose. To hope that matters could be put away for another day. Even then, Teldrassil had put paid to that.

I should have known. I should have seen. It was just like the Fall. And Theramore. Of course it was going to get worse. To end up here.

But to leave them behind, to leave it all behind, after all this…

The mage took another look at the ring, lost in thought in the draconic inscriptions, the carefully-etched runes. Eventually, she pushed herself to her feet, the letter in one hand, the ring in another.

They are lost. All lost. They think they can stand against the oncoming tide, but it is already lost. We are broken now, and they won’t take the only way out.

I can’t save them.

But I can save myself. I have to save myself.

I have to find Scaleslicer. I have to know.

Quietly, the mage headed back inside to the ongoing party, slipping the ring on her finger.

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