[H-RP]The Frozen Paw Clan - A Light in the Darkness 🔥

[Ercia-argent-dawn (Ercia)]

Going back to Argus, huh?

[Skelgar-argent-dawn]

I’m having a blast with this guild. I’d recommend any nomadic and traditional orc to join in! And, of course, other races as well who know the importance of traditions of the old Horde.

Lok’tar!

[Kump-argent-dawn]

Specially -you-, one of the loveliest people, whom i am in debt.

[Ohru-argent-dawn]

From the Return of the Damned Campaign in Northrend!

It is quiet, but for the howling wind. He can hear it. It tears at the roof of the fort, plucking the metal, reeding through the spikes the orcs are so keen on building into their architecture.

Every breath is agony.

He wheezes quietly in the darkness, eyes closed, feeling the way his scorched lungs ache. The painkillers Vivian had given him had worn off hours ago and he had awoken with searing pain in his chest and stomach. For half a moment, he wondered if he was still being burnt from the inside out.

When the Shadow Bolt had hit, he had been doused in it. He had sucked most of it into his lungs, ignoring the agony flaring in his chest by doing what his father had taught him to do. ‘Pain makes you weak.’ His father had told him once. ‘Put it into the back of your mind. You have your strength. Use that. Ignore the pain, halfbreed. Ignore it. Or you’ll feel my lash again.’

And so he had.

He had fought onwards, knowing his lungs were being scorched with every breath, knowing his insides were turning black. And then the blood had started leaking out of him. Out of his nose and mouth. No, he had thought as he’d sank into the snow after the Vrykul had died. It’s supposed to stay inside.

And when the impulse and the fear had risen inside him, it was all he could do not to scream. But Ohru Bearbrother never screamed. Never cried out. Never showed the world his fear or pain. To show them would be to admit his weakness.

But you did show them. Says a voice in his mind which sounds like his father. You showed them when you fainted.

Better that I had. He thinks savagely, recalling the indescribable agony of the Shal’dorei’s blades running him through - through his back and out through his chest. The pain of that had forced his mind clear. He could remember glancing down, seeing the two shining points - shiny with his blood.

“Oh.” He had said, stupidly, before fainting. Good thing too. I don’t know what would have happened if I’d gotten that sceptre.

He trembles on the floor in the medical ward, hiding his face, feeling the tender skin there where the dragon fire had burnt him. Healed now - everything was healed. Time and rest would make him strong again. But strength means nothing if your mind is taken over.

Ohru closes his eyes, wheezing with every breath. Sleep, damn you. He thinks to himself. Sleep.

The wind howls outside, and Ohru Bearbrother trembles, wheezing.

[Xerlin-argent-dawn]

A portal opens up in a late night within Thunder Bluff, followed with a heavily pregnant Darkspear troll stepping out of it. Clad in armour suited for a long campaign in Northrend, she huffs in the ever increasing warmth rising within the furs of the aforementioned armour. Caressing a hand over her large stomach after a swift journey through a portal, she makes her way over to her and her mate’s tent located in one of the Rises among Thunder Bluff.

Once there, she got rid of most of her armour until she was in nothing but a comfy surcoat of the Frozen Paw Clan itself, and her clothed pants. Wait, the Frozen Paw Clan? She took a look down at her oversized surcoat which would otherwise befit a tauren, making it look more like a dress for the pregnant troll. However, a mild frown formed on her lips. Caressing a hand over her belly, but this time; not for the sake of her unborn offsprings. But in wonder of the Clan’s future.

Even after the Stygian Legion had, to her surprise, left them alone for the time being; the rest of the Horde appeared to start spitting on their name. And in a way, she could understand why. But for now, they could do nothing but to let time prove that the Clan stands with the Horde. Forever and always.

After a moment of silence, she allowed herself to exhale slowly. The corners of her lips tugging into a genuine, proud smile. Though the Clan have lost a fair deal of members, it never meant it could regrow to it’s full glory again. Yes, it was time to seek out new, likeminded clansmembers of the Frozen Paw Clan.

[Morsteth-argent-dawn (Morsteth)]

[Also rubs the belly a bit]

[Kump-argent-dawn]

[Rubs Morsteth’s big nose afterwards.]

[Xerlin-argent-dawn]

[Concerned noises]

[Brigante-argent-dawn (Brigante)]

I kind of want to know what ‘Concerned Noises’ sounds like, but I’m just…picturing a rather upset Blue Whale. Not angry upset, Just a bit worried and fussed. They’re not angry, they just want to phone you and make sure you are OK, because your last facebook status was a bit weird…

[Hollins-argent-dawn (Hollins)]

The IC entries in this thread are a joy to read. Great writing y’all! And I’m not even privy to what goes on in RP!

[Kaytlinne-argent-dawn (Kaytlinne)]

Morty, from Rick & Morty, going “Eeeehhhh?”, I think

[Ohru-argent-dawn]

It is so cold.

As night draws tight around him, Ohru folds himself deeper into his cloak, feeling the aches of his body keenly. So, they had lost her. He wonders what she felt when she died. Shame scorches his insides as he wheezes a cough. If only he had been a little kinder.

He is leaning against one of the fences on the outskirts of Venomspite, his fire crackling merrily, keeping most of the cold at bay as he sits and contemplates the battle. He would have to make more Firebrew - his stocks are starting to run thin.

She had been right, of course. He is naught. Irritable. Cruel, even. He wishes he could have said something kind to her before she died. She had been strong. He could respect strength, even if he didn’t like the way she… did things. He wonders what his teacher would say. Where his teacher is. Jadeflayer. I wish you were here.

He curls up tighter in his cloak, pulling his tail close to him. He had heard of tauren losing their tails to frostbite.

The fire crackles. He pulls another log over to feed it, wheezing in the cold as he settles back into his place. His eyes droop closed. He would try and find some of her on the morrow. Set her to rest.

May her Ancestors smile upon her.

Sleep finds him there, snow settling on his shoulders as his fire burns brightly.

[Rhaewon-argent-dawn]

@Brigante-argent-dawn

‘Concerned Noises’

Literally Marge from Simpsons

[Berethen-argent-dawn]

The only Horde Bunch I’d share my cookies with.

[Ohru-argent-dawn]

Ohru stands quiet as dawn breaks over the Hold. His whole body aches. His fingers, stiff with the cold, slowly work a new war braid down the left side of his face, passing behind his ear and down his chest - his longest braid yet. He weaves within it several objects: a shaft of wood from a World Tree, a shard of scourge steel carved into the image of a roaring dragon, and several Lightforged Draenei crystals, taken from the armour of the draenei he had fought and beaten. He recalls the draenei’s face. When the war is done, he would like to talk to her more. Perhaps, give her a shard of his antler, as is a custom of tauren respect.

[Ohru-argent-dawn]

He wipes his forehead.

The needle and thread in his hands shakes as he sews his Horde banner back together. Loop by loop, he restores the tattered red material back to some form of decency. A scourge ghoul had torn it to shreds and he hadn’t had the chance to repair it until now.

It is dawn - although it is hard to tell - and Ohru is sat on the edge of camp. Having used snow to clean himself and his gear of blood, he finally has some time to repair his banner. Seeing the Horde symbol, black on that blood red field, gives him courage. It is the final day. He thinks. I just have to survive one more day.

He looks forward to returning to Thunder Bluff. To seeing his teacher again. He would enjoy telling Jadeflayer of his experiences. How he grew. What he had seen. His body aches with its injuries - his breathing wheezy. He swallows a cough, and tries to ignore how funny his mouth feels with his missing tooth. I will get it replaced.

Satisfied with the banner, he sets it aside and turns to his Frozen Paw tabard. The thick material has been torn in several places: claws sharp enough to bite through his leather armour had done that. He sets to sewing that as well. He’d tried to get the bloodstains out, but with only snow, it is hard to wash away. The blue material has been dyed a dull colour. I will ask Overseer Celise if she can clean it more. Magic. It may help.

He sews and sews late into the morning, repairing what he can. The rest of his gear has certainly seen better days, but he summons his patience and begins work on the straps to his pauldrons. They seem to be wearing a little thin with use. A simple strip of leather and deer gut thread sees the pauldron aright again.

One more day. He thinks grimly as he holds up the Frozen Paw tabard to inspect. Just one more day.

[Ohru-argent-dawn]

As soon as Ohru steps through the portal to Thunder Bluff, he finds himself desperate to sleep. He bids Kyr goodnight, makes sure Erithur and Mohla are placed in the inn, and then hires a wyvern to head for home. A little tent, on the boarder between Feralas and Mulgore.

Home is glorious to see. He rubs the wyvern’s ear as he dismounts, barely able to keep his eyes open as he sheds his armour and dives into the lake outside his home. The blood and sweat and war paint falls away, cleansed by the water and he floats on his back, staring up at the star strewn sky. I survived.

The thought surprises him.

His whole body aches. Despite the wonderous healing of every healer in the campaign, it had been enough to get him back on his hooves. His arms ache - both had been broken, badly - and he flexes his fingers in the water, listening to the lapping of the shore. His shoulder joints are also sore. He’d had a shard of dragon bone embedded in it not four hours ago, and before that shrapnel had buried itself there during the flight from the Hammer. Scratches and gashes litter his torso, the wound over his right eye stinging as he sits up and washes his face. It had been closed, but he can still feel the hurt of it. And then there’s his missing tooth.

He hauls himself back to shore, sitting on the edge of the lake, watching dirt swirl off his hooves where he’d disturbed the lake floor. He stares at his hands.

I survived.

[Xerlin-argent-dawn]

And thus, the Frozen Paw Clan were on the move again. This time, seeking to eradicate the ruthless Alliance from Horde grounds. What did they even hope to achieve in Kalimdor anymore? The Horde, more or less, owned this continent by now. One could say thanks to the Banshee Queen. Their typical attempts at claiming the woods of Feralas should only prove hopeless, and it will. Emji, the one taking over whilst Xelrin was expecting, would make sure of it. She would never forget the tragedies the Alliance have brought upon the Horde, her home.

Although she may disagree with the Warchief’s methods of eradicating the bluecoats, her plans worked nonetheless. But for now, she wanted to get rid of the Alliance through her own ways. There’s no way that she’d allow them to camp so close to Thunder Bluff. To home.

But as an acting Overseer for the Frozen Paw Clan, she knew she also had to focus on healing her allies. Be it clanmembers or not. She was more than happy to bring her allies back on their feet, only to murder more of these pestering dogs of the Alliance. For the Horde!

[Ohru-argent-dawn]

Emji is a heckin queen i love her

[Treiller-argent-dawn]

proteccts