I hope you are all still going to the Koshâharg Festival.
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The people claiming authority proved to the rest why nobody should.
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People tend to forget that there is no actual authority⊠they reach a hand for a bit of prison rp but youâre not really forced to take it.
You could just /w them that your act is a part of an event or ignore their presence in a somewhat civil matter⊠or just use a rocket launch and a glider to escape⊠getting ticked ooc about it is just a waste of your time.
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For some reason trying to look at Rogâs armory profile gives a âsomethings not quite rightâ.
Works fine for me, also, good job getting rid of that guild tag.
Try now, just needed to relog on the old forum, as theorised earlier⊠
And now thereâs a little bit of a graphical update to the main post. Time to put my trust level to good use!
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One final graphical update for today; our noticeboard is currently in a pretty sad state, what with the Frozen Paw being gone from Orgrimmar - and as such, posters from the lovely Grimace, Skabb and Harrey have been pegged up there!
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The OP is really cool, one of the best.
The formatting and tools are shamelessly ripped (and crafted with a great deal of help!) from Shuangâs Fallen Leaf thread.
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I want my own poster pegged up all over Orgrimmar, showing everyone how wonderful Sena is and -no- I am not jealous.
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Looks great!!!
âŠmeanwhile how do I get to that trust level :o ?
Read the forums for a consecutive amount of days and receive 50 likes iirc.
Edit: Also importantly if youâve ever been banned or flagged I believe itâs impossible to get Trust 3.
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You need to have, in the last 100 days, read (skimmed/scrolled past counts) 20000 posts, read 500 threads, have given 20 likes and received 30 and have visited the forum in at least 50 of those days.
Remember to log in to the character you want trust level 3 on, itâs not account wide.
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Ey yo Rog, weâve been stuck on a raft in the ocean for two weeks what happened to your hair?!
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With 3 of our new crew finally getting AA profiles set up, Iâm happy to present 4 new faces on the âCharacters to meetâ list - Erithur the Monk-to-be, Aailish the Priestess-apprentice, old veteran Yakari of the Rowanoaks and Juniaa the Ice Witch!
Additionally, since Iâve been queried about this a fair bit:
Where are we, and whatâs going on?
The clan is currently without their Chieftain, in relative hiding over in Mulgore under the guidance of their Overseers and having to rely solely on each other for the first time in a long while - all the while the Whiteclaw Communion churn, contemplating what to do.
Rogmasha herself has been taken into captivity, and her future story will be revealed come the next story patch (and the finishing of a big art piece commission!).
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The days and nights had long since began to bleed together. Such is life under the watch of a guard that needed no sleep.
But she had let them stoke their own embers of supremacy - let them think that this orc had been reduced to meekness, only daring to speak when spoken to. Only daring to think of her labour.
And every waking moment she listened. She saw. She felt their growing complacency. They grew bored of watching over labourers while others felt the rush of battle - the one thing that made many of her captors feel alive.
Some had gotten cruel - had taken to beating and torturing her with the promises that the rest of her treacherous kin would soon join her here, to slave their bodies away as she had. And yet none came. As the rumourmongers grew more gleeful with their torture, so too did her resolve grow.
âYouâre too stubborn.â One of her taskmasters had murmured the words after another round of whipping and bile produced little but wincing and growls of pain. Hearing the phrase sheâd always heard - from her brother, her kin, her mate, even her mentors and most cruel rivals - brought a weary smile to her features, one that not even several rounds of beatings could subdue.
Too stubborn.
Even as she lay there, her back being painfully melded back together, Fireâs promise loomed at the back of her mind.
âEven if the whole world is stripped - the oceans drained, the mountains brought low, the whirling winds stilled - they cannot claim to have tamed me. I know no master. I live on in the soul of the slave, and in the arm of the revolutionary. I have forged the future and brought tyrants low. I am the light of dawn that keeps darkness at bay.â
There was a throbbing from the wrist-wraps that theyâd used to substitute shackles. Cloth-like weaves that the maker said would keep the Elements from contacting her. And they had, in truth; save the spirit sheâd built within herself. So many disconnected pieces and memories slotted into place just then.
She realised now why those wrist-wraps reminded her of her time in the Earthen Ring - a time often spent fighting the Twilightâs Hammer cult.
She needed to go. And soon.
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âI have removed the guards. We should have a few minutes.â
The words came as a whisper - and yet a whisper that was too familiar to ignore.
âI can move. Just get this-⊠Twilightâs Hammer madness off my wrist.â
Then it happened. The bonds shattered. A million voices - a million cries that had gone unanswered came back. The wind whispered, Earth groaned, Water murmured.
âThis had to be done. You are the heart of the resistance. Without you, I fear the flames of their will might not last.â
Her thrumming head barely heard the words. Fire was the only that had not shouted at her return. It didnât have to - Fire knew that it had kept her alive. Fire felt the embers she had nurtured.
The sound of alarm. They had to go. She knew where to; the cradle where Fire first filled Horde souls.
âGet me to⊠Alterac. I can make my way from there. Your work is better spent here.â
They ran. Air eased the weight. Earth reinforced her emaciated strength. Water blessed her blood to last the run.
When she finally caught her breath, she was at the mouth to the Alterac Valley - her old home, once her only home.
âI owe you much, when all this is over.â She felt her cracked lips part on their own.
A brief moment of silenced passed between them.
âSave the Horde, and you will owe me nothing. Even if you can only save itâs soul.â
She didnât entertain that notion. She couldnât. Just as the Whiteclaw Clanâs name and ideals hadnât died with them, neither could the Horde.
âThe Horde owes all of you a great debt. It will be our lifeâs work to repay it. Go in peace.â
The final word rang in her head the rest of the evening, as she spoke with old Frostwolf kin who had made families, seeing young pups from her own youth all grown up. A voice both stranger and closest friend - the Wild - murmured in her ear;
"Here is why you fight. Here is why you suffer and why you bleed. You have shown the outside world the patience of Earth, the cunning of Air and the kindness of Water.
Now, it is time to bring the balance. Now, it is time for the passion of Fire."
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The hunt is back on.
I will not bother with imprisonment next time.
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