[PCU] Gnome RP - Assemblage of Uld 🔧

Tonight we’re heading towards the borders of Khaz Modan for a small series of events this weekend.

Join us and tag-along with the fun and adventures!

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Amidst the crimson dunes of the Badlands, the Assemblage ventured into the haunted depths of a ruined crypt in search of an ancient databank of assumed titan origin.

Corrupted constructs and cursed spirits from previous failed expeditions attempted to halt the Assemblage’s exploration - Burdens that the Assemblage overcame through mere gnomish ingenuity. However, while attempting to solve the unsolved mysteries within, the Assemblage triggered faulty safety protocols, sealing themselves within.

After desperately scouring the darkened forgotten halls, the Assemblage were able to locate leftover Dark Iron explosives. This assorted volatile haul allowed the gnomes their freedom, as well as the cursed spirits that lingered within


Before venturing into the crimson dunes of the Badlands, the Assemblage swore to upheld the last wishes of their cursed cousins.

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Within the Heart of Uldaman, the echoes of the past linger.

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Tonight was an epic night of fighting the Highblood Myrmidons over some relics in the Badlands’ tomb, complete with siege tanks and bursting Koriane for no reason. Gnomish might at its highest as always, primitives will soon understand our (completely metaphorical) height!

But most of all
 Gnomish legends will be passed through generations of the dwarf whose name is Mortai who singlehandedly changed the fight’s flow in spite of being level 47 in-game.

For Gnomeregan! For Ironforge! For the Grand Alliance! For Mortai!

https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/593540340791771282/602216042995122187/unknown.png

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Disassembling the Assemblage.

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The Assemblage has once more thoroughly familiarized itself with military duties and ensured a safe perimeter for the Alliance meeting to begin in. Dutiful eyes will watch the surrounding woods for the slightest hints of spies for as long as the meeting drags on, from parchments full of Legalese to glasses of celebratory whiskey.

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The Assemblage is currently in Dun Morogh, aiding the Mountaineers of Kharanos with an uprising of Frostmane trolls, all the while trying to figure out the whereabouts of Horde escapees and the machinations that they have fostered.

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Within the darkest corners of the Deeprun Tram, the Assemblage brought the Horde escapees to justice - once more illustrating gnomish superiority towards the lesser beings known as Goblins.

After reporting the conclusion of this matter to the Captain of the Kharanos Mountaineers, the Assemblage have begun preparing for their upcoming mission within the snow-adorned region of the Storm Peaks


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I wrote a little something from Biggie’s past to inspire some Gnome-pride.

His job during the Fall was among the most difficult.

There were harder jobs for certain, like those who had knowingly stayed in the lower reaches of Gnomeregan to fend off the troggs; feeling that grim awareness of this being their final stand, a feeling paled only by their immense sense of duty. Stationed on the surface, however, Biggie was tasked with rounding up scrap and supplies for the evacuation effort. The city was lost and, despite the reckless positivity of the Gnomish race, that fate was not disputed by even the strongest willed of them. What made Biggie’s role so difficult was that the evacuees were not fleeing the city with vast quantities of scrap: only the essentials. The essentials being their life’s work, their name-sakes, their one invention that would immortalise them forever: this is what he was tasked with scrapping. In that long line of evacuees each set of eyes told a different tale of loss, perhaps they had seen a loved one fall to the trogg invasion, or lost a friend in the chaos of retreat. It was unheard of to see a Gnome look so defeated, and yet each of those sets of eyes looked ever-the-more hopeless when Biggie demanded of them one final sacrifice.

Next in line was an elderly gnome. When asked to turn over his invention his face rushed through a sequence of emotions that Biggie had grown accustomed to, it was as if his mind was in overdrive. Initial shock; followed by realisation; then anger; a brief warning of violence; before, finally
 a grievant acceptance. The sentimental value of each Gnome’s invention caused them to hold up the evacuation line when giving it away, so Biggie had to insistently snap them out of their reminiscence. Behind the line a few seismic explosions were echoing through the metallic halls which provoked a new urgency in Biggie’s demands. Slowly the old gnome came to terms with his unfortunate circumstances and handed over his trophy. The object that was handed to him was light, yet Biggie could feel the weight of countless hours spent toiling away in a workshop for it’s creation. He bowed his head sympathetically toward the Gnome and cast the machine into the pile of scrap behind him. Then, before he could lock eyes with his next victim, a great metallic crashing sound cut through the air. The exit door had closed.

In an instant Biggie recognised that this was a malfunction. A small group had already assembled around the door and were all theory crafting for a solution to the problem. The rest of the crowd were roaring manically and, accompanied by distant sounds of explosions, it became impossible for Biggie to hear much at all. Despite the overbearing noise around him, his awareness of those trapped behind the gate meant that all he could hear – in that moment – were their desperate cries for help. One of the operatives approached him hurriedly and mentioned the specifications of a door trigger that had destabilised. With mechanical haste he then spun to face the pile of scrap behind him, which looked to him like a graveyard of ingenuity. His goggle-tightened eyes scanned the pile as he attempted to envision and un-pack each invention’s blueprint: imagining which would have a trigger to match. His excavation of the “scrap” – dare he call it that – felt like he was digging through years of Gnomish pride and accomplishment, and it didn’t take long before he had found what he assumed was a suitable fit.

In those crucial moments Biggie had to battle with his nerves and begin to disassemble what looked to him like some sort of sophisticated re-fuelling device. His assessment of the device had him conclude that it should have some sort of trigger to control the flow of phlogiston, one that must have serviced many mechanostriders in its lifetime. Now, he thought, it would serve a new purpose. A hailstorm of unscrewed tubes and torn wires fell besides Biggie as he un-made the magnum opus of his fellow Gnome. A few guilty tears started to fill his lenses as he broke apart the gizmo, and each desperate amputation held a burden of sin: this was not his to dissect. Finally, just as he had calculated, he reached a trigger perfectly suiting the specifications given to him. He passed it on, and for a moment felt all of the blood sweat and tears that had gone into creating that which he had just destroyed. Even though it was not a terrible moment, as it meant the rescue of so many more of his people, Biggie still found himself sobbing in the heap of abandoned gadgets.

Since the dawn of their kind, Gnomes have poured their efforts into creating something above themselves, they have practiced their creativity and honed their craftsmanship into one identity-defining creation. Each of the inventions around Biggie symbolised more than just scrap: they marked all of the names of those that had been safely evacuated. The Switchspring’s, the Steambeam’s, the Fixbrakes’, and the Pumptwist’s: each relic in this pile was a life that had escaped. Each was a Gnome that would live on, a Gnome with the invaluable privilege of being able to tinker again.

In the face of extinction the Gnomish people had to sacrifice more than just their work, they learned tragically that their own lives, and the lives of their loved ones, were more valuable than any invention could hope to be. None of these wondrous innovations could ever surpass the worth of a living, breathing, Gnome. If only Biggie had known that on that day another mass of lost inventions would make this one seem tiny in comparison. Unlike this one, that pile of “scrap” would be lost forever: as would those brave Gnomish inventors that were not as lucky as him.

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“Assemblage, assemble!”

We have returned from our voyage with a multitude of events planned for the next few weeks.

If you’re looking to join in on the fun you can find us around Stormwind / Ironforge / New Tinkertown! *- Or give a whisper to anyone online.

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A dozen rifles.

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Matrix Punchograph 2060 - U. L. D Operation: MERIT Assessment ; Modulated Evaluation Researched In Training

Tonight concludes our training session and three trainees stood out above the rest, however all were adequate in their participation.

Congratulations to:

  • Athern Springwuzz

  • Lalko Gyrospring

  • Elmort Mekkabeam

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Gnomes r chads

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We’re currently in the Pandaria, engaging Ronin in RP-PVP.

On Friday we will be hosting a medal ceremony within Ironforge, be sure to catch us at this event if you’re interested in recruitment!

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The Gathering:
https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/547373403708063756/614447731389235210/19-08-23-15-11-21-893_deco.jpg

The Vault:
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The Alert:
https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/547373403708063756/614447731850870817/19-08-23-15-13-44-144_deco.jpg

The Engagement:
https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/547373403708063756/614447730940575744/19-08-23-15-15-16-658_deco.jpg

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Those pesky little butter knives and tiny bullets sure hurt a whole lot more than you would think!

Very enjoyable event - the rest of Ronin seems to have agreed on that too.

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Hope I didn’t burn too much of their hair and beards off.

Just want to say a big thank you to the Assemblage of Uld for a great event and great restraint with the presence of a lower level character. You did a great job.

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URGENT URGENT URGENT

The Assemblage of Uld is in need of medics and healers, expect better luxuries for those who are willing to enlist in such circumstances.

Cog Captain Railcraft

We’re still recruiting, we can be found within the Dwarven District or New Tinkertown / next week we will be kicking off some COOL stuff in Kalimdor, now would be a smashing time to join.

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