[PCU] Horde Elf RP - Highblood Myrmidons đŸ’«

Argent Dawn
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Even though dear old Lei’liah isn’t Horde at heart, it’s great to see updates coming from the Highblood Myrmidons.

Keep on elfing it up, guys and gals!!

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Eirdarias stared at the wall of the makeshift infirmary. The paint had long since flaked away, leaving it naked and bare. The stone beneath was grey, mottled with green and brown, patches of lichen that had taken root and begun to eat away into the solid foundations. Cracks, fractures, they traced their way up the old sanctum’s structure, curling tendrils of withered ivy sprouting from them. These small signs of life still clung on despite the stench of decay in the air, a sickly sweetness of slow rot and mould.

He dregged up the old, misty memories of when Tranquillien was in its prime, the visits he’d often make to and into its boundaries. Scarlet featured prominently, and the surrounding world was alive and full of vigour. Eversong Forest had been just that, vivid in the colours of growth, thriving, the golden crowns of the trees reached up to the light of the Eternal Sun and drank in its strength.

But those images were just that, old memories of times past. He felt nothing for the Ghostlands anymore, the forests he roamed as a boy were gone and wounds always healed quickly for him. They’d never come back, and if they did, they’d never be the same. But now, he knew it was his duty to protect his kingdom, even if the Ghostlands were nothing more than glowing pustules and scraggly trees.

He was expecting this; an inevitability. Trouble comes in threes after all. First, dragonfire. Next, the Scourge. And now, the Alliance.

If this all went awry, if the threads of control were cut away, they would come to claim Quel’thalas as their own. He dreaded to think what would happen if it came to such dire times, but he knew from what he’d heard of the ren’dorei and seen with his own eyes, it would be a devastating loss not only to the blood elves but Azeroth as a whole. They’d bring even greater monstrocities to this world.

He found himself whiplashed from the well of thoughts he had descended into when the silence of the infirmary was broken by a scrapping of boots. He turned his head to stare at wherever it had come from, finding himself face-to-face with Elyrius.

The other elf gave him a dreadfully bored look.
“I’ve been stood here far longer than I’m comfortable with. You may want to check your pockets,” he said. “And then your ears, Emissary. I know I am silent, but not to the extent you can’t even hear me call for you.”

Eirdarias grumbled wordlessly, patting down his pockets. Runestone, compass, pocketwatch, coinpurse. Nothing was missing, neither were his hidden medals. He gave Elyrius the evil eye.

“I lied,” the Prefect said simply. “But I didn’t come here to flex my pickpocketing prowess. In fact, I came here because it still feels like I am covered in burns, and that makes movement exceedingly uncomfortable.”

Eirdarias glanced back to the wall.

“Visions again, Eirdarias?” Elyrius pried, and something about his tone put him on edge, this fiegning of innocence that made him feel he was being subtly mocked.

“Is the wall telling you things?”

That wasn’t even subtle. Eirdarias shot the other man a glare.

“No. I’ll see to you now, Aminor, and I want silence when I work.”

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Koriane sat outside the infirmary, tying specific feathers to basic arrows. She paused and surveyed Tranquillien, eyeing the exhausted and wounded Horde troops slumped against the statue in the middle of the town.

She couldn’t help but feel demoralised. Over two days, they had denied the Alliance land, and in the span of one day, the Alliance claimed An’daroth, An’owyn, and the Thalassian pass. Troops slaughtered in a hopeless battle near the Elfgate. Venrian surrendering.

“Ranger Andari’mas! Rangers Sia’ven and Helomar haven’t returned from scouting An’daroth.” Koriane breathed out through her nose, glancing toward Ranger Ban’dothiel. He was panicked, ready to run off at any moment. Koriane sighed. “We’ll search for them in larger numbers. We cannot risk search around An’daroth for them right now.”

Koriane picked out a feather from a pouch, placing it against an arrow and holding it down while she reached for another. For the High Home.

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Guild is still going strong, new members, lots of epic events and simply the BEST casual roleplay.

I didn’t know RP was meant to be this fun???

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You’re an elf? Serving the Horde?

Look no further, join them :slight_smile:

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Ran into these folks more than once during the recent campaign, they brought a ton of life to the Ghostlands and were an absolute blast to roleplay with and fight beside.

One of the best elf guilds I’ve run into in years, on either faction.

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I may not actually have your guild tag anymore, but I will always wear it with pride.

HoC and HBM event line together has been sick.

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You still have their guild tag on the forums, at least.

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Day 141 since my first post.

The HBM are still epic. If you’re an elf but hate being harassed by questionably dressed Tauren in the Bazaar, look no further

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instead you can be harassed by the rest of the stygians

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Who dress far more modestly and quite frankly, do so with more decorum

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looks at lawson and whispers “some
”

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This is the official Lawson fanclub :heart_eyes:

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Lawson? More like Loveson

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Cant believe HoC and HBM are at war now

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Rathil stood silently as the constant downpour of rain clashed upon his armour, unphased by it. His eyes locked with an immovable gaze upon the ground. Despite that most would presume his expression as dread, the youngest of the Alor’el family simply projected a hollow gaze. The rainfall made its way down his palm and withdrawn dagger, yet the blood staining it never seemed to truly wash off, rather it entwined together and stuck.

At his feet lied the tragic fate of one of his brothers, though not just any. The one nobody knew of, the one disowned truly of the Alor’el name. The only brother to ever stand up for Rathil, to take care of him, now lying lifelessly in the boggy mud at the hand of the one he lost everything for.
“Well done, Alor’el.” An empowering tone that radiated authority came from behind him. The hooded priest, the Emissary. Rathil did not reply for he could not. To them, the corrupted, blue-skinned blood elf was nothing but a traitor to them.

A loud, disruptive clatter throws the young Myrmidon upright from his slumber. It took him a while to recognise his reality as he woke in a cold sweat with his heart feeling as though it was about to tear through his chest.

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simply epic

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nice people

edit: not actually with them anymore, but they’re always on my mind :heart_eyes:

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[French voice]

2 days later


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all an elaborate PCU scheme, of course
<3 this guild

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