[HIATUS] Clan Stormheart - Kirthaven's Roost 🦅

[Yokaiizu-argent-dawn]

These lads and lasses are damn brutal to fight against, and in a best way possible!

[Thunderlung-argent-dawn (Thunderlung)]

After the grieveous deeds done atop Thunderstrike mountain, Clan Stormheart is more resolved than ever to strike back at those who wronged them.
It is said that in the far North, where death and shadow dwell, an evil is once again preparing to become a power to be reckoned with… It is now that we must act; for if we wait too long our sacred places, our homes and lives might be forfeit under the wicked gassault of the Trolls!

To Northrend we go, with Elves and Worgen we travel afar,
We go, we go, we go to war!

[Talirei-argent-dawn]

och laddie

But on a serious note, enjoying getting narrowly dive-bombed by gryphons!

[Tharragh-argent-dawn]

The bard tho ever present, remained silent and much more to himself then what he had ever been before Gradhas passing. Tharragh stayed with the gryphons, feeding them while the others rested from battle or adventures, watering them as the others slept. Himself sleeping in the hay near the animals rather then among any other dwarfs. Tharraghs songs however remained ever present, and the bard kept singing nomatter what he was up to. His fiddle rarely resting and himself, if not healing the wounded or caring for the animals he would sit nearby the camp, playing some song. Loud enough to heard but not loud enough to disturb. A perfect tune and perfect volume that he mastered from all those years in the taverns.

[Throrgàr-argent-dawn]

Well, what’ve we been up too lately?..

Clan Stormheart have been braving the fierce colds of the farthest north, alongside Elves and Worgen they battled within the likes of Zul’Drak, Dragonblight and Grizzly Hills. In attempts to thwart the ever-scheming Drakkari, or what’s left of them anyway.

We now venture from one campaign to another, now settled within Wintergarde Keep for the foreseeable, ever hardy, though their trust in alliances shaken.

A Stormheart never wavers.

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Upcoming Events

Clan Stormheart are hosting a couple of server events aimed at the RP’ers of Khaz Modan in the near future too!

THE HIGHLAND GAMES
23rd - 25th April
Thread: [Khaz Modan RP] The Highland Games - Spring 2021

THUNDERMAR’S BARE-KNUCKLE BRAWL
29th May
Thread: [Khaz Modan RP] Thundermar's Bare-Knuckle Brawl

If you’ve ever fancied trying out Dwarf / Gnome RP, they’ll be a grand gathering to participate in within these events!

See you there!

[Thunderlung-argent-dawn (Thunderlung)]

As we wrap up our campaigns in Northrend, Clan Stormheart is making ready to head back to Kirthaven. Highland Games are coming up near week’s end, make sure to check the thread out!

THE HIGHLAND GAMES
23rd - 25th April
Thread: [Khaz Modan RP] The Highland Games - Spring 2021

[Throrgàr-argent-dawn]

After the success of another of our much loved Highland Games, we shan’t stop there! At the end of the month Clan Stormheart will be hosting Thundermar’s Bare-Knuckle Brawl!
(Link can be found above at the OP)

We’re also currently looking for more able-bodied Wildhammer who’re seeking to find a lasting home. So if you’ve ever fancied RP’n the best of the Three Hammers, swing on by Kirthaven for that authentic Wildhammer experience!

[anon28105664]

Can definitely recommend this bunch, was great to see such fliers about the damned campaign even if they were on gryphons <3

[Throrgàr-argent-dawn]

And so the Stormhammer was to be remade…

Upon the lonesome summit, within the shadow of Aerie Peak did this ceremony take place. The anvil most ancient and blackened, carved from the weathered stone that’d protruded the ravaged plateau. A gathering of kin bearing the cradled halves of the Stormhammer, carried to be laid upon the anvil, spread apart. A Stormhammer’s head was traditionally forged from thorium, whilst the handle was often varied by the taste and wishes of its current master. In this case, it was a skilled effort to implement thorium, storm-silver and iron; almost ‘Damascus’ in appearance.

Though an anvil it was placed upon, the ritual that is practiced here to make the two halves whole again, is not corrected by that of hammer nor magma. For the power of these thunderous weapons stems ultimately from the generations who’ve left their already mark upon them; like a tapestry, these hammers adorn the successes and shame of all who’ve wielded them. And so once more must be called forth, for their blessings must be offered. Else the runes are destined to be left cold upon the weapon’s cheek, no more to be re-ignited.

The ominous weather slowly begins to circle above them, as the storm turned tempest whilst the High-Shaman, Grongul Stormheart, stood alone atop the moss-ridden stone. A beckoning of the elements, battering both charred vegetation and flesh alike. Whilst two artisan blacksmiths, Barkor and Mairede Thunderfist prepared mighty, grappling the two halves as they’d socket them closer until almost touching. A final blessing then from a Gryphon Master, Haelga Stormheart, for whom had great standing within the family for generation - for her job was to summon forth the ancestral spirits of the Stormhammer; those who’ve long slumbered.

Thane Grahda Stormheart…
Borlahn Stormheart…
Thane Olgan Stormheart…
Karban Stormheart…

Indeed, the weapon’s might did not care for title and Thaneship alone, but for anyone who’s more than proved worthy in the eyes of their predecessor. Upon each brief visit between the storm of these passing shades, did they implemented both wrath and acceptance of the newly appointed wielder. Their blessing forced through the hand of the High-Shaman, directing the raw energy back within the inscribed runes of old. This power didn’t stay idle however, for the lingering potency within longed to escape - to which the artisan blacksmith had to hold steady and aligned.

Both ferocity and power encircled the summit, upon the final blessing earned by the weapon’s deceased creator did the power increase ten-fold. More than what the two blacksmith could handle, for any and all who where present offered their strength to the joining of head and shaft.

A terrible struggle followed, unable to allow the raw energy leave or escape, the family did finally manage to unite the two halves - locking it’s haft within the bored hole of the head.

A lasting arch of lightning forked, pummelling the ancient weapon. The retreating family stood back, their vision blinded as they’d lower before it’s majesty.

Between the pitted flames and charred stone, the Stormhammer glowed a vibrant hue of blue. It’s inscribed runes pulsating a cold white, crackling as escapes of whisping static crawls away from the head.

Mohr’Grum, the heirloom of Clan Stormheart had been reborn.

[Tharragh-argent-dawn]

In the wild once more, Tharragh had been seen going out more and more, staying away from Kirthaven for long stretches of time. The bard and Cliff landed nearby the western borders close to the mountainside. As the morningsun rose towards the eastern skyline Tharragh sat himself by his friend and leaned his head into the feathery mane of Cliff.
”Ye knouw boyle, Ay bare nae even sing right nouw. Look at tha’ sky. The colours burstin’ over the sea, the orange and the rosered-”
Tharragh was abruptly cut short as Cliff scoffed and pushed the dwarfs fiddle closer to him. ”Alrigh’ lad, Ay’ll sing instead then… Chuckeling he grabbed the fiddle from the now more content gryphon. If Cliff could’ve smiled he sure would’ve. The animal laid his head closer to the dwarf and cuddled. The bard drew the stroke in a lonesome and slow tune over the bow. His fingers moved as water over a creekbed in a natural and smooth way as he changed chords.
”Low lie, The Fields of Arathi.
Where once we watched the free gryphons fly,
Our louve was off the wing.
We had dreams an’ songs tae sing,
Et’s so lounley round the Fields of Arathi.
By a lonely mountain wall,
Ay heard a young lad callin’
Nothin’ matters Sarah, when ye be free’…”

[Haelgä-argent-dawn]

Greatwing the Loyal
A tale by Haelga Stormheart

I was young once, resilient, strong and fair. For this tale I feel needed be written to be remembered, I shan’t ever forget it, nor the lesson it teaches. But neither now, shall you, my children.

Thane Olgan Stormheart was without much compassion, his strength however, could be considered that of legend amongst our own, but with all the size offered there seemed little room within his heart. His temperament forever a burden laid heavy upon this family, more-so than most, Borlahn Stormheart; your Uncle. For Borlahn was still much of youth, fool-hardy and with little interest of the matters of leadership, of -Thaneship-. Olgan hounded him for many years, attempting to craft with both word and fist a worthy successor out of the boy, for little reward. A beaten Borlahn often confided in Grahda, from whatever brief respite they could have of their father. The pair were seemingly close since a young age, from what I gathered.

But one day, Borlahn had reached the end of his tether with Olgan. The pair fought at supper, offering out curses and raised voice to the other. Borlahn didn’t allow himself to show fear in the presence of Olgan, but this only aggravated the Thane more. He man-handled his defiant son, dragging him outside - the painful cries of Borlahn travelled back down the hearth. The hearty meal prepared was left stone-cold upon the plates that night, for I had not the stomach for it after such an ordeal.

Olgan returned shortly afterwards, his knuckles bloodied and raw, sitting back at the table to eat, seemingly un-phased by what’d come to pass. Borlahn however, did not return. Now this isn’t a passage to write and abuse the memory of Olgan, he’d loved for a time - and I think he’d thought that was enough. Especially for someone who’d been raised by the likes of Bal’gahn, atleast.

I remember the next morning with some haze, but Borlahn was still nowhere to be found. He’d fled our home, having taken his beast from the roost at sun’s first light. Grahda confronted his father alongside Yarlgai; your Grandma. With some convincing, the Thane had finally decided upon a search party. At first, I was denied the opportunity to help, Olgan’s wrath reached far as his dislike for anything different was deep. He scorned my family often by that of passing word or gesture. For my own father wasn’t a warrior, nor of any heroic capability, a keen craftsmen in his own right - I loved him dearly. But this wasn’t fitting nor suitable for Olgan’s own stock to be partnered with, but try he might, this didn’t phase your father, Grahda. For compassion and a large heart did my husband have, he all but earned my affection in but a single meeting.

So we all saddled up, Greatwing her name was, she was my first feathered companion and most loving of friend. When the families of Aerie Peak harnessed these wonderful, magnificent beasts for the first time, they couldn’t keep such a knowledge to themselves, no. And I was beside myself with it, Greatwing was all I could’ve hoped for in an ally.

We set off, searching for our young Borlahn. The passing of time felt slow, as if the hours dragged, splitting off as we reached the great waterfall of the Verrall. I took to the west, navigating the many crags and over-looks that’d span that weathered mountain range. Upon coming across a small opening; a cave nestled between a few blustered pine.

For what’d looked to me like the tracks of a Gryphon, I wasn’t at all hesitant to enter - striking up a prepared torch as I did. Greatwing accompanied me and we both ventured inside. I can recall the smell, vividly, a mixture of dried blood, age-old leather and rotten food. The caution of Greatwing should’ve alerted me when the smell didn’t, but I was foolish and stubborn. Calling out for Borlahn I had hoped for this ordeal to be settled, to hear the call of the lad and for everything to be alright again.

I was wrong.

My calling was a heavy-footed approach to such a situation, unknown to me, waking what’d laid sleeping after a gluttonous feast. They awoke with a fierce and renewed appetite, a small gathering of Ettin. I turned frantically, navigating the moss-covered corridors of that cave, loosing memory of the exit by the minute. The hulking brutes, swinging wildly with their make-shift weaponry. Their lack of control brought havoc to the interior of their lair, bringing down the ceiling around us all - crushing all but myself and Greatwing.

As the dust settled, I remember opening my eyes to darkness - darkness, all but for a single strand of light no bigger than my fist piercing the veil. A singular, most welcoming strand of daylight. We were stuck it seemed, surrounded on all sides by a mass slide of heavy rock and shingle. I tried a good few times to haul what I could, but I thought against my judgment to save my strength. I’m glad that I did.

Minutes turned to hours, hours quickly turned to days. I knew this purely from the singular beam of light, gathering my bearings on whether it shone through or not. Before we knew it, three days had already passed. My waterskin was all but down to the last drops, savouring all I could - Greatwing began to stop taking water. Food? Food was just as scarce, I had bagged a modest amount for a short venture, but between beast and I, it wouldn’t last.

By day we sat opposite one another, I’d talk aloud to Greatwing - though of course she’d not talk back. But by night we’d cuddle together, I could start to feel her ribs beneath both hide and feather, desperately thin. I remember waking upon the sixth or seventh night, famished and fantasising over water. I remember her eyes glistening in the abyss, her face overbearing me as she’d nudge me with her beak. During the day she’d remain close, for what I’d assumed playfully she’d nip at my legs and boots. But my starved mind began to betray me, as I fear it would soon Greatwing.

The tenth morning I awoke, Greatwing was already up - facing me, her eyes tired as her head beckons closer. I believed in that moment I was going to die. That her hunger had finally overtaken her love, she’d glance up and about my person, calling out - deafening at such a close range, despite her raspy dry tone. Unknown to her I had been sitting upon a jagged stone, for the last two days I was prepared for what needed be done - my heart fell heavy. I didn’t give her a chance to attack first, brandishing the stone I bludgeoned her head. Our bodies starved and frail, I didn’t stop until the deed was done, until she writhed and twitched no more.

I killed her.

I discarded the bloodied stone across the room, disgusted and hollow. Finding then the tears from my dried husk to cradle the quiet body of my dearest friend. But my mourning was short lived, I could feel the floor move - the back wall of stone dislodge and shift. I’d cower, shielded my eyes from the blanket of dust.

I remember a distinct voice of someone who I’d thought I would never see again. Grahda and Olgan had found me, twig-thin and on my last legs. Borlahn was in tow, he’d circled back that same day afterall - having returned to our home to have found us gone, out looking for him. Despite all that’d come to pass, I couldn’t hold him responsible for what I had done.

And then I sank down deep within my very soul, for I had realised Greatwing was not going to attack me at all, no. She must’ve been calling out to the noises beyond what I could’ve sensed. She was ready to protect me, ready to defend me should it had been a monstrous Ettin having found his way in to our stone sanctuary. And in my haste, I all but ended her life for it. A tidal wave of shame washed over me, shame and guilt.

Greatwing was loyal to the very end, I shall never forget her. In fact, I have kept her talons as tribute to her unyielding friendship. A small chain link binds them all, a most sacred trinket to me.

And every time in my life since, should I had to have made an impacting choice. I would never do so out of haste again, I would clutch her talons close to my heart and take a moment, understand all of my options before deciding.

This is what I ask of you, my darlings. You will be faced with difficult decisions in your life, for that I have no doubt. But be wary of haste and recklessness, understand your options and trust in your better judgement.

Remember the sacrifice of Greatwing the Loyal. You must be better than I, my most beloved children.

[Throrgàr-argent-dawn]

We’re currently back around Kirthaven for the moment, recuperating and on the look out for any able-bodied Wildhammer or Bronzebeard! So if you’ve ever fancied bit of top shelf Dwarf RP, swing by and see what we’re all about!

We shan’t be idle for too long, mind! Clan Stormheart and their flock will be needed soon enough.

“A grim tale has reached me ears o’ a most sinister foe, festering within them crags n’ dusty ravines o’ those Stonetalon Mountains. Though a hearty distance may ‘et be, m’kin. We shan’t leave our allies ta deal wit’ this ‘ere menace alone! So make ready me flock n’ saddle a-plenty. We’re off ta Kalimdor…”

[Grongul-argent-dawn]

Storm clouds gather. The time to ride or die approaches

[Hornbellow-argent-dawn]

Yesterday Clan Stormheart arrived in the far off Stonetalon Mountains, where trouble is brewing deep in the red rocks… Let us see where we end up at!

[Throrgàr-argent-dawn]

Clan Stormheart are officially on HIATUS for the foreseeable, our officer team are unable to find the time for WoW as of late and the game as a whole doesn’t hold enough interest for us and many others at this current point.

You’ll likely see a few of us still kicking around every so often with the tag, but we shan’t be hosting any further Khaz Modan related events etc.

To everyone we’ve met along the way, it’s been a blast and perhaps we’ll one day return with renewed passion for the game and storylines in the future!

“Never waver, eh?!”

[Dawncastle-argent-dawn (Dawncastle)]

NEVER WAVER!

We salute you Stormhearts, the sun may go down in Kirthaven but it always goes back up again after the dark. The frontrunners in leading great dwarven social events, I bet we will see them in the future again. Until next time o7

[Clovus-argent-dawn (Clovus)]

Sad to see you go! I’ve enjoyed the RP I’ve done with you guys (though admittedly we’ve mostly been on opposite sides since I was primarily on Horde at the time lol). It’s been good to have a guild of Wildhammers running around, especially now that Dwarf-centric RP has gotten to be pretty scarce.

Hope you all enjoy whatever else you get up to in the future!

[Throrgàr-argent-dawn]

Thanks for your kind words!

[anon28105664]

Indeed very sad news this, thoroughly enjoyed our rp with you guys :). One of the best dwarf guilds around.

[Dulnus-argent-dawn]

A shame to see you folk go on hiatus; thoroughly enjoyed our interactions at festivals or combat!