Tauren RP is always something I hold very close to my heart and something I’d really like to get into at some point (Read: Soon TM).
All the luck to you! ![:heart:](https://d1bg94bbsh66ji.cloudfront.net/en/wow/images/emoji/twitter/heart.png?v=6" ":heart:")
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Thank you for the kind words. As I said before, I’m overwhelmed by the level of support for a concept that is, by the nature of its narrative and target race, incredibly niche. I can’t wait to get started.
Please contact me if you have any questions or join our discord (link above) to join the group discussion.
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Nomad Heart
It takes a brave soul to cross the forbidden creek into the land of the unknown, but only a madman would abandon his family and way of life. Some twelve years ago, following the Legion’s defeat at Mount Hyjal, Grulun Proudhorn had done precisely that.
“I am going, and I mean not to return,” he had told his Chieftain in private. “I shall travel the lands with An’she as my guide, until I find a place to settle, like the other tribes.”
Without so much as a word to the others of his tribe, he had departed, bringing only the bare tools of survival. He had always known how to carve his own path through the untamed world that surrounded him, and had doubted neither his strength nor his experience, though the journey ahead would be long and full of hardship.
Even now, comfortably seated by the hearth, he recalled that cold night with a shiver that erected the fur on his back. He let out a long breath, before shaking his head and continuing to carve a piece of hickory. Labour often put his mind at ease, but he soon discovered he could not prevent his memories from intruding upon his thoughts. Though he did not desire to, he remembered the past decade as clearly as if it had all occurred but a moon ago: the sights he had beheld, the people he had met, and the many dangers he had faced and overcome. It had taken him years to finally settle in Thunder Bluff, and two years later, after having surpassed the skill of his master, Grulun had begun to make a living forging tools and weapons as a smith. He had always dreamt of a richer life away from his tribe, and in Thunder Bluff he had found it; there was nothing in particular he desired that he did not already own, and although it was a life that required much physical work, he lived comfortably. Despite all of this, feelings of emptiness and discontentment had slowly begun to take hold within his chest over the past few years.
As he began filing down the wooden haft he was working on, Grulun came to the realisation that he no longer practiced his craft with the burning enthusiasm he once felt, and unknowingly, he had withdrawn from the friends he had made among the settled tauren. He now felt strangely hollow inside. “What is missing?,” he wondered to himself. “I have everything, yet I feel unfulfilled.” Suddenly, he was overrun by the sense that he did not truly belong within the confines of his Thunder Bluff abode. He had long been disregarding his own instincts in an attempt to adapt to a sedentary life, but his hoofs knew what his mind had tried to suppress: he was aching to roam free again. He missed the dangers of the wilds, and the thrill of hunting for his food, but most of all, he missed his freedom. Grulun had tried to deny it, but he knew that in his soul he had not changed, even after all these years. In his heart, he was still a nomad.
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You are lost.
Beaten, tired, torn, the Quilboar pushed you South but the sneezing sickness took your future. Tamlin is dead and who is to say whether the sun will rise on tomorrow. Yet if you had died, and he had lived, would he have given up so easily? No, he would never give up, and now you must not.
You must survive, persist, provide for your people. There is an end to the desert if you can find it.
But first you must burn him. Ignite the future.
Our first event, ‘Ignite the Future’, begins in Desolace tonight at 8:00 Realm-Time and will act as the official launch of the guild. Thank you to everyone who’s helped so-far to bring this concept to life and, to anyone who may be just finding this now, feel free to contact me or join the Discord if you’d like to be involved.
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Song of the Ancestors
The night air was thick with smoke as the old bull burned. The rest of the tribe had returned to their tents once the ceremony had ended, but Tohaku stayed. His father was gone, and, despite his preparations, the loss had yet to sink in.He heaved a sigh as his eyes turned toward the horn in his hand. He had removed it himself before the cremation, and was now charged with upholding his father’s legacy as Hornkeeper of the Proudhorn Tribe. He knew his task, and had trained with his father since he was but a calf, yet he found himself paralysed, unable to return to his tent to begin the ritual carving of the horn as the tribe’s traditions demanded. He wiped away his tears, yet more came – he was lost.
He did not know how long he sat there, by his father’s side. The old Hornkeeper’s corpse had long since turned to ash, and the fire at the camp’s centre had died out some time ago. It was not until the emergence of the aged and grizzle hunter, Baku, that he awakened from his trance.
“You have lingered here some time, young Hornkeeper,” the bull stated as he approached. He was known for his warm heart, and his eyes glistened with understanding. “You mourn your father, as does the tribe. He was a good man, and performed his duties as well as any I have ever known. The ancestors, it seems, chose wisely.” He removed the stopper from the gourd fastened to his belt and took a drink before offering it to Tohaku. When the young one hesitated, he insisted further.
“Thank you,” Tohaku said at last as he took the gourd. The firewater went down smoothly, but did little to brighten his mood. He passed it back to Baku. “And yet I am to succeed him. It is not customary for the role of Hornkeeper to be inherited by one’s next of kin; I fear we have misread the signs.”
“You fear you are not up to the task?”
“I do.”
The old hunter let out a low, amused chuckle. Tohaku wondered if he was being mocked, but the old bull laid a hand on his shoulder. “I have lived a long time, young one. And never have I known the ancestors to be mistaken – though your father has, on occasion, mentioned that they can be quite demanding. I recall him telling me that old Ahaya – you remember her – was most displeased with her son’s choice of mate. The chimes outside their tent shook furiously that night, though there was no wind…” He trailed off for a moment as the memory returned to him.
“You have had too much to drink, hunter,” Tohaku sighed. “Perhaps you should return to your tent-“
“Then perhaps you have forgotten, young one. The Seer had taken ill that night, and so your father could not call upon his aid to calm Ahaya’s spirit. Who did he call upon in his stead?”
Tohaku knew the answer. “Me.”
“Indeed. And by the end of the night, your father told me, the ancestors danced and sang with the rest of us – though none but he could see them.” He smiled. “Your father often spoke fondly of that night. It was a festive occasion, to be sure, but there was great pride in his voice when he spoke of it. I believe it was then that he – and the ancestors – knew your destiny.” The old hunter yawned. “But you are correct. I have drank much this night, in memory of your father, and must rest before tomorrow’s hunt. I hope, at least, that I have given you something to ponder, young Tohaku. May Mu’sha smile upon you this night, and may the winds carry your father’s ashes to the most blessed lands.” Baku patted his arm before rising to his hooves and slowly making his way back to his tent, slightly off balance.
Tohaku sat with his thoughts, eyes fixed upon the horn of his father. As if in a dream, patterns and symbols flooded his vision, an elaborate depiction of the old bull’s life. He was astonished when he discovered his engraving tools in hand, and even more so when he looked upon the horn once again. It had been engraved with an intricate series of designs, honouring the memory of the late Hornkeeper.
As he rose to his hooves, he looked around the campsite. All of a sudden, it was alive and filled with song. But as he drew closer, and as their eyes turned toward him, he saw that they were not his remaining tribesmen. Figures from the past stood before him, their faces marked with approval. It was then that he held a firm hand on his shoulder.
“You honour me… Hornkeeper.”
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Taken from Saturday, what follows is a summary of our launch event…
As the nomads prepared to burn the honoured heir of the Proudhorn, Tamlin, a jewel-wearing wanderer entered camp. It was Grulun Proudhorn, one of their own who had left after the Battle of Mount Hyjal but now returned after hearing of their plight. He was begrudgingly given a place within the group and, upon Wyaenne’s arrival, Tamlin was carried up to his funeral pyre amongst the slopes of Desolace and words were spoken.
Chief Jeddek removed Tamlin’s horn as according to custom and then, in great shock to all, Khitava removed her own horn and placed it amongst the funeral pyre. As wife to Tamlin Proudhorn, she remained devastated over the loss and most were prepared to forgive this sacrilege in the realization that grief had made her hollow. Wyaenne received Tamlin’s horn and Kaluf the Seer set alight the funeral pyre after wishing Tamlin’s soul a quick journey into the embrace of the Earthmother.
The wolf Falax joined the funeral precession and most will remember his timely arrival just moments before the pyre was set aflame. When the fire roared, Jeddek took some of his sons ashes and buried them near the spot as gift to the ground. His spirit would rise to join the ancestors.
Returning to camp, the nomads discussed what should be their next move. It was decided that roaming South, towards Feralas, would be their salvation and that they would begin the journey in two days time. Although hopeful words were said, there was an uneasy feeling that there may be more challenges yet to come…
Since then we’ve made the difficult journey further South and now find ourselves on the border of Feralas. However, a violent storm, and the resurgence of a lost cultural artefact, has meant the nomads must continue to brave Desolace for now.
We’re still looking for more Tauren to join our group. Please contact me or follow the discord link above if you’re interested in learning about the concept.
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Loving this so far!
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Great concept, and nice to see you have quite a few low levels in the ranks. Makes it very easy for new roleplayers to feel comfy jumping right in!
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After a few relatively dry days, the heavens have opened again and rain and hail soften the dusted wastelands to sludge. Although their mobile lodgings are built strong to deal with the elements, most of the Proudhorn have sought the communal shelter of a nearby cave and now huddle to await the dawn.
Words will be spoken and stories will certainly be told. Meat will need cooking and there are chores to do. A true child of the Earthmother never shies away from labouring for their community.
Quiet voices continue to circulate concerning the Branch of Anon. Will they rediscover the ancient artifact of their people? Will they find deliverance and safety within the verdant lands of Feralas? All eyes turn inward as the group reaffirms their bonds.
Tonight the Proudhorn come together as a tribe and as a family. What will the future hold for these stubborn remnants of the old ways?
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The Ancestors have spoken.
Called forth by Hornkeeper Tohaku in an effort to determine the location of one of the Tibre’s most sacred artefacts, the Branch of Anon, five guardian spirits of the Proudhorn Tribe offered visions to those gathered for the ceremony: Chieftain Jeddek, Komoro, Eyota and Tohaku of the Proudhorn, and Adahai Brighttotem of the Woodstrider.
After piecing these cryptic clues together, the Tribe agreed that the Ancestors had most likely shown them Maraudon, the cradle of the centaur race nestled within the Valley of Spears. The road ahead will be a long one, fraught with peril, but if the Proudhorn are to have any hope of reclaiming the Branch of Anon and breathing new life into the Tribe, it is one they will have to endure.
After a brief event in which the Proudhorn and their allies gathered to contact the Ancestors, the Tribe has a new task ahead of them: on Thursday the 9th of May, we journey to Maraudon in the hopes of finally recovering the Branch of Anon.
If there are any who think themselves up to the task and seek to be a part of the Proudhorn’s history, there’s no better time to get in touch!
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Tonight the nomads venture into the catacombs of Maraudon in-search of the ancient heritage of their people. What manner of dangers will they face below the earth?
Our group continues to grow as our narrative continues. Please contact me or join our Discord if you’d like to be involved.
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Some images from our event last night, during which we recovered one of the Proudhorn Tribe’s most sacred artefacts: the Branch of Anon!
https://imgur.com/a/n78bvHR
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Having pushed through a cavern and a storm to retrieve the Branch of Anon, the nomads are now free to leave the dusted wastes behind. It is time to enter Feralas where they can finally again enjoy the simplicity of tribal life.
They have faced many challenges already and now is the time to rest, recuperate and celebrate their important victory. Are things once again returning to normal?
The first chapter of the nomads journey has concluded. They have pushed through sickness, loss and danger to recover their ancient heritage and open a future for their people. Tonight at 21:00 Realm-Time they migrate into Feralas, somewhere they can only hope will prove more hospitable.
Recruitment remains open, just contact me and we’ll arrange the details any time. Interactions are being planned with other guilds and our narrative presses on. Thank you to everyone who’s helped make this a reality so far - much more to come!
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I joined this Guild with one of my alts (Adahai) a week or two ago. Seeing that there are only very few Tauren-only Guilds active these days, the choice to join this one was almost obvious, although I was a bit reluctant since most of the members have leveled and written a character specifically for this tribe. But Noblespirit allowed me to have Adahai tag along them as an outsider.
The background and lore of the tribe is solid. It has a nomadic and spiritual background, something that gets reflected in the RP as well. There is a good mix between DM’ed events and just casual RP, and the type of events vary a lot - from traveling and performing rituals to venturing into dangerous places, there is always something to do each week.
The people are great, IC and OOC, and it’s a small, relaxing environment. It’s certainly one of the best choices if you’re looking for some Tauren RP.
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Very much love seeing new Tauren guilds crop up, and hope you all the best. Hope Bearan gets the chance to run into you all at some point to give some nice Horde propoganda with (predictably) mixed results.
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Bring out the pitchforks and torches, boys…
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A summary of our most recent event with [Highmountain Stands]:
The hunting in Feralas was going well and Chief Jeddek brought back a large deer, skinning and preparing the meat himself. The Hornkeeper Tohaku, Seer Kaluf, and Chief Jeddek discussed the matters of the last few weeks and prepared to go on a nightly walk when an unfamiliar voice called out. It was a Bloodhoof Tauren, a Sunwalker by the name of Bena, who had sought the Proudhorn out after hearing of their troubles in the wastes. She was prepared to offer them aid and medicine but Jeddek did not overly trust her Horde sensibilities. Things were almost calming down when a huge troop of Highmountain wanderers stumbled upon their campfires.
It was band led by an enormous antlered warrior called Kotur Highmountain. His people were travelling South as the Proudhorn, aiming to assist the Tauren locals who were suffering from local problems. Quietly concerned that they might bring more eyes towards their camp if they were to leave tonight, Jeddek offered them shelter and a place to rest for the evening. One of the Highmountain, a Rivermane healer much like Bnooki, jumped at the chance to hear of the stories of the Proudhorn ancestors and Tohaku was more than glad to tell them. Kaluf joined the Highmountain and the Sunwalker Bena by the fire whilst Jeddek consulted with their leader Kotur off to the side.
Islanders though they were, the Highmountain were not so dissimilar in culture or attitudes to the Proudhorn. They sympathized with the nomads rejection of the Horde way of life and wished them good fortune in their wanderings. Jeddek suspected they might meet these Highmountain again one day…
Sunwalker Bena was altogether far more difficult to convince. She was sure that the Horde could give sanctuary to the Proudhorn Tauren and that they would be wiser to join their settled brethren in the North. Chief Jeddek and Bena discussed and argued their respective cases for over an hour, with Bena eventually conceding perhaps in the realization that Jeddek was a hard egg to crack. The Sunwalker would be allowed to stay to help the Proudhorn but she was not to go spreading her foreign ideas and converting the youth. The Chief hoped that she would eventually come to understand that the Proudhorn were not savages to be civilized but people who were content with their simple way of life. Or perhaps this was just his way to cover up his own internal doubts.
Tonight the nomads meet for the traditional Proudhorn custom of ‘Coat’ painting. We’ll be RPing together in Feralas over the next while as our narrative events continue sometime next week.
A huge thank you to Kotur for helping to organize our meeting! I hope we run into each other again sometime soon.
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It was my pleasure, friend! We have had plenty of fun with you guys, and I hope our paths cross again soon!
Really nice and traditional Tauren guild and a very interesting concept! I wish you guys best of luck!
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Loved meeting you guys as well! My only regret is that I was too tired to stay longer and interact with everyone else a bit more, but the Spirits tell me we’ll certainly bump into one another in the future.
Also, we have an event tonight in Feralas at 20:30 realm time! For unexpected reasons I won’t be able to attend tonight, but if past events are anything to go by, I know it’ll be a great time.
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A summary of our most recent narrative event in Feralas, beginning the second chapter of the Proudhorn story…
The Hornkeeper Tohaku organised the nomads of the Proudhorn for an important ritual ceremony. Chief Jeddek was out on a hunt with the wolf Falax and had not returned and so the Tauren had to begin without him. The Branch of Anon was unveiled and held up for view by the tribe. It was a relatively plain wooden stave with some deep carvings along its length. As the rites progressed, the carvings on the stave began to glow and reveal themselves to be runes. Some believed there was a meaning to the specific runes that shone the brightest - perhaps they were warning of a hidden danger soon impending? The ritual then calmed down and the nomads gathered together. All had gone well but something seemed amiss. Where was Jeddek and why had he missed the ceremony?
It was at that moment that a Goblin representative of the Blazewest Security and Recovery Company entered the nomads camp. His name was Rennol Safemine and he spoke perfect unaccented Taurahe - a sign perhaps that this Company was a little more than your usual industrial thugs. He explained that Chief Jeddek was currently in a Blazewest Company building in Southern Desolace, discussing with ambassadors how to solve a difficult situation with the Branch of Anon.
As it turns out, the Blazewest Company were the same Goblins that had invaded Maraudon on the night the Proudhorn sought out their ancient cultural artifact. Blazewest had been paid a great deal to retrieve the Branch of Anon for a Whitefur Tauren who considered it his own rightful heritage; or at least that is what Rennol said. The Goblin was willing to offer the nomads a tremendous reward for handing over the Branch: ten Kodo beasts, furs and supplies to last several months, new and improved shelters made with modern materials, and protection from outside threats such as the Centaur. The Proudhorn would not budge and they refused his offer.
Rennol Safemine was allowed to leave and it was not long before Chief Jeddek returned. He was carrying a wounded Falax who had suffered a shallow spear attack from a Blazewest Orc the wolf bit. Jeddek was fine but clearly a little shaken. He ordered the nomads to immediately prepare to leave camp, and so they did, travelling further West to a new campsite just South of Camp Ataya.
Now they must plan for the future and hope the Blazewest Company does not follow them. Yet what lengths are the Goblins willing to go to retrieve the Branch of Anon? And what does this revelation about living Whitefur seeking the Branch mean for the Proudhorn people? Could conflict be brewing between the two old allies once again?
The Proudhorn may have found a brief peace in Feralas but, now pursued by a Company of Goblin businessmen seeking to sell the cultural artefact they have recently retrieved, danger may once again be on the horizon.
What does it mean for the traditional Proudhorn to live and operate in a modern world that has moved beyond their ancient customs? And can they ever find sanctuary in an Azeroth that largely rejects their right to exist apart from the ever encroaching spread of ‘progress’?
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