[H-RP] Path of Glory - WAR!

Argent Dawn
1

Path of Glory

A Horde warband on Argent Dawn (EU).

https://pathofglory.weebly.com/
Recruitment: Open

"Sons and daughters of the Horde,

The fourth war, they call it, is over after the defeat of Sylvanas Windrunner and the sacrifice of Saurfang. Once again the Horde has bled from internal strife and it has left us weak and vulnerable.

There may be peace now, but we have done this dance before. The Alliance and the Horde are destined to be at odds, and with our vulnerability there are some who seek to end our very existence. Our way of living.

This cannot come to pass. We cannot let it come to pass.

We are monsters in the eyes of the Alliance and no boy king on the throne will change that. It is time that some of us embrace that view. In order for the Horde to survive on this world, we must become what our enemy thinks we are.

We shall give no mercy to their soldiers, to the people who set foot on our land. We shall not rest until the head of every Alliance dog has been placed on a pike and their precious Alliance has been destroyed. Only then can we speak of peace - true peace.

Join us, brothers and sisters. If you have what it takes to save our Horde, you shall be welcomed among our ranks. We will be watching."
- A poster found in the Cleft of Shadow.

The Path of Glory is a multi-racial (antagonist) guild on Argent Dawn (EU). They are a warband seeking to plunge the world into yet another war under the pretense that only with the total destruction of the Alliance the Horde can survive. Its core of members know that in order to do so they must be willing to cross the line that will bring them naught but infamy.

Currently posing as the “Spear of Vengeance” they claim to be heroes of the Horde fighting for peace by trying to force the hostile Army of the Black Moon to sign the armistice as well. For that to work, however, they must break the armistice themselves so the Alliance will be forced to act, one way or another.

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"Brothers and sisters of the Horde,

Heed the call of the Path. The Horde is threatened once more, this time under the guise of a new peace. A peace that allows the Alliance to regroup and grow stronger while we are vulnerable yet again after internal strife.

Saurfang wished for the Horde to be strong, but this is not the way. We cannot survive, nor thrive, as long as the Alliance exists. History has shown this. We need to change this doomed fate. We must break the cycle once and for all.

Join the Path, or pledge your aid to us. We shall be the catalyst that will save our Horde. We await you in Durotar where the ‘Lord Admiral’ landed next Monday at the eight hour in the evening."
- A poster in the Cleft of Shadow

Monday 13th of January.
Tiragarde Keep.

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Cool group of people that I’m very excited to start RPing with next week, plus Path of Glory is a great name :slightly_smiling_face:

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We meet tonight, 8PM. The drums of war will sound again.

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More came to join the path tonight, their diversity proving that it is not only the Orcs who understand that war must flare again.

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Looks great! I am sure you’ll get your war eventually! Probably after Shadowlands but I am sure you’ll have at least some Alliance to fight.

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Now with extra chad

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"Brothers and sisters of the Horde,

The Path calls upon any and all willing to aid us. Warriors. Supplies. If we wish to save our Horde we must all do our part.

Join the Path, but know that it comes with a heavy price. Are you willing to pay it to see our Horde saved? Meet us next Monday where the Lord Admiral landed, again at the eight hour in the evening."
- A poster in the Cleft of Shadow

The poster has been defiled. In a cryptic tongue the following was written.

"Al’ksh syq iir awan? Iilth sythn aqev… aqev… aqev…"

Monday 20th of January.
Tiragarde Keep.

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Our next meeting’s happening tonight! Will we see more people joining the warband, or will those already there succumb to the temptations of the totally-not-Old-God whispers? Stay tuned !

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Had a fun eve of roleplay with these folks yesterday - looking forward to seeing what the future holds!

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His hand was sore, it had started to ache long ago and now it was starting to cramp. How long was he writing for now? He’d been here for long enough for the cheap candle bought from some Orgrimmar bazaar to burn a quarter of its wick away. His libram was laid across the desk, some pages had been removed as he began the process of replacing them with other, newer pages. These new sheets of parchment hung against the wall. Colourful and damp ink - bought from some forsaken apothecary - gleamed in the dancing candle light.

It was an ongoing labour of love, one that had taken him years and will continue to cost the Alliance. The new company he found himself in, an unruly band of zealots and psychotic brutes will keep his project trundling along smoothly. At least for a while. Until they do something heinous enough for his stomach to cease tolerating them. And Light knows it was inevitable, the victim complex of these orcs - Skel’gar especially - was testing his patience. But it was all a means to an end, another hop, skip and a jump to something he has been doing since he was a lowly Adept. He was almost content with his work now.

Rising, Aerilen turned and walked towards the entrance of his small Orgrimmar lodgings while shaking his aching hand, the pain always went away relatively quick.

He’ll head to Arathi tomorrow, after the ink settles.

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"Brothers and sisters of the Horde,

The Horde is threatened from all sides. The loyalists and their Banshee Queen, the Void and the Alliance. There can be only one way to our survival and that is to walk the Path.

We require fighters, people who are willing to risk everything to save their home. It is not for the faint of heart, but we can shape you into a true weapon and protector of the Horde.

Do you have what it takes? Walk the Path and be embraced by your brothers and sisters. We meet the next day at the eight hour on the Outskirts of Sen’jin."
- A poster in the Cleft of Shadow

Saturday 1st of February.
Sen’jin Village Outskirts.

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After clashing with some of the Stormpike dwarves in Alterac Mountains, the Path set out to watch the roads leading to and from the Lunar Festival last weekend. This eventually culminated in the death of one of their own at the hands of the Hand of Cenarius, his head displayed along the road leading to Timbermaw Hold for all to see.

We have another meeting tomorrow at 8PM Realm Time. It’s finally time for the Warlord to talk about the trials the Path have to face, to see which among them are worthy of becoming Warbringers…

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The Path of the Outsider

A group of volunteers are put through a harrowing trial that will ultimately end in victory or death.

On the 21st of February we will be in Feralas. The lethal Path of the Outsiders will put four to six volunteers to the test. Will they retrieve the mysterious item the Warlord leaves behind for them and survive Feralas with its dangerous wild life and night elves? Or will they die trying?

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I thought you said dangerous.

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The Warlord set out from Camp Ataya in northern Feralas in the early morning, the heavy rain that often covered the land provided some help for the Blackrock to hide himself from the night elves at Dreamer’s Rest.

A lonely stag sought shelter from the rain under the canopy of a large tree near the road. It thought itself save until an orcish axe was brought down upon its neck.

The head of that same stag was mounted atop a crude spear at the ruins of Oneiros. A simple warning to the night elves of troubles to come.

The Path is coming to Feralas.

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The Path’s first real trial is starting in 30 minutes! What dangers await the trialists in Feralas? Who will succeed and who will fall? Tune in later for your next update on the date of the memorial service !

(also because I am forced to add this: if you’re in Feralas and are looking for RP, those of us not participating in the trial will be IC at Camp Mojache)

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Meeting

The Path reconvenes once again next week on Friday, the 13th of March at 8PM server time. Posters will urge any willing to save the Horde to head for Valormok, Azshara in the evening of the 13th.

Plans will be discussed for the Path that will take them to Ashenvale as well as on a mission to assassinate a once high ranking general of the dwarven military.

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Sleep was not coming easily.

The heat of Orgrimmar and the insistently endless buzz of insects were doing their best to keep Aerilen awake. Laid on his bunk he stared at the wooden ceiling above him, shadows danced and flickered across its surface as a brazier across the room burned low. He could feel sleep start to grasp at him, he could feel his body begin to relax and then some new discomfort took him. This time it was some ache in his side, with a huff he rolled onto the same side and clamped his eyes shut. Willing slumber to take him as time dragged onwards.

“Well that was silly wasn’t it?”, he reached out and gently took the small girl’s hand into his own. Turning it over to inspect the large rosebush thorn stuck in her palm. She was putting on a brave face, as she always did, fighting back the tears welling up in her bright blue eyes. Her golden hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, it was practical and kept it clear of the dirt of whatever adventure or mischief she was in the thick of.

“You need to be careful around the bushes Isarrel”, it was a half-hearted effort at chastising her for terrorising her mothers’ garden. There was no point in telling her off, the thorn had likely taught her a lesson anyway.

“Can you get it out?” Isarrel asked with a crack to her voice, the threat of a wail held behind fragile words. She kept fighting the tears and temptation to sob right until-

Thunk.

Aerilen woke with start, someone else had come into the dingy barracks and had rudely kicked their boots off.

“Sorry”, is mumbled under a hushed breath by the offender.

Aerilen’s heart sank deep into his gut and began to fester there, he must have just gotten to sleep. And this wretched soul rudely interrupted his rest. Once more he found himself on his back, staring at the ceiling and the ever shifting display of shadows.

Homesickness was starting to eat at him now, it had just been nibbling and nipping at his heels for weeks and now it had caught up to him.

He was wasted here. The orcs do not need babysitting against the void, they’re brash and abrasive enough to protect their own. His thoughts became acidic and resentful towards his assignment, towards the Horde, towards this disgusting barracks and more importantly towards the fact they took her from him.

Eventually he drifted into a very bitter and dreamless sleep before waking in the early hours. Grumpy and with a mood as foul as the fumes from whatever goblin contraption was running outside.

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