Truly a great guild. Interesting events, and vengeance driven themes. Any true Gilnean or Kaldorei should join them!
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Vashava sat at her desk, thinking. The last week had been chaotic, to say the least, but a great deal of good had come from it, overall. Whilst there had been the nastiness at Valiance to deal with, she had managed to get that sorted, even if it meant making a large donation for āupkeep and maintenanceā to the local commander to keep the matter somewhat quiet. This surge in anarchic and void-like events has helped even more to keep things under wraps. Vashava tapped her quill on some parchment, before dipping it into an inkwell, and writing a quick note to herself to keep tabs on that situation.
Of much better news, was the recent defeat of the foul Banshee Loyalists in Northrend. Their pathetic attempt to raise a Necropolis had almost succeeded, but once again, arrogance had been their undoing. They had played with a force beyond their understanding, raw Arcane power, and it had been childās play for her and Magus Fiddlepuff to destabilise the entire power system, bringing the Necropolis crashing back down. Her fellow Dirge members had fought so well, Blakemore and Moonglow keeping her and Fiddlepuff protected whilst they worked their arcane magics, and Bloomtender and Beastpaw supporting Polemus and the assault force keep fighting with their druidic powers. Together with the Assemblage and the Draenei, the Dirge had formed an unstoppable triumvirate. Vashava wrote another note to herself, reminding her to prepare something to congratulate the Dirge with. Perhaps some new weapons, orā¦ she put a question mark next to the note, and resolved to ask them about it later.
Of a more bitter note, the local guards in Stormwind had proven to be quite an irritation to her, although the City Watch had been far more sensible and amenable. But, that matter was now being addressed, she would let natural justice resolve that matter as it saw fit. At least she had gained more recruits to the cause as a result of the chaos in the city, she mused as she ringed a new cost estimate on a financial document. The more, the merrier, as they said. Perhaps others would reach out to her in due time, Elune willingā¦
The Dirge of Teldrassil is currently in Stormwind, but weāll be off to hunt down more foul Horde very soon! If youāre interested in joining, or just have some questions, please contact me in game at any time!
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Aboard ship, Valiance Keep.
Vashava sat in her private cabin, drinking. So, it was over. The Dirge had returned to Northrend and with their allies in the Assemblage of Uld, and the Order of Oronaar, had fought the foul undead once more. The monstrosities had lingered, even after the destruction of their Necropolis before, and worked to repair it. Such a threat could not be ignored, it had to be quashed, utterly, ground to dust beneath boot and cog and hoof. The three contingents had gathered their forces in the Gizzly Hills, had planned to obliterate the foe with a short, sharp raid, and set out to ZulāDrak.
It had gone wrong almost immediately. Upon arriving at the crashed Necropolis, who did they find but the Saurfangites, or the New Horde, or whatever they were called. Vashava shook her head, it didnāt matter. The cowards had gone and ruined the plan utterly. What should have been a victory, had ended with the Necropolis flying, and a victory for the Banshee Loyalists. Had those Horde fools not bogged down the initial assault with a three-way fight, in which the living had come off worse by all accounts, thenā¦
Vashava took another gulp of manawine, scowling. It had only gotten worse in the air. After the initial fight on the ground, the Banshee Loyalists had managed to get their Necropolis flying again. The attempt to storm it and bring it down again was delayed, again, by the Horde, attacking everyone who wasnāt them. And people said that peace with such people was an option. Vashava scoffed to herself, a bitter smile crossing her face. So much for the whelp of Stormwindās peace.
Eventually, the battle had ended in the heart of the Necropolis, with the living finally having achieved an uneasy truce, hard as it was for the Horde to understand the importance of stopping the Banshee Loyalists. But the damage had been done, and the loss was assured. Vashava looked down at her leg, only recently healed from being broken in three places by the High Executor, among other wounds. The Dirge as a whole had suffered too much in the loss, none leaving the Necropolis without wounds.
After she ripped open a portal to safety, the Assemblage, Dirge and Oronaarians had made it back to safety, and there was little left to do. A few loose ends to tie up in Northrend, and once that was done, the Dirge would return to Ashenvale. The Banshee Loyalists had won, their Necropolis, long gone. But this would not be the end of it, no, far from it. Vashava paced her cabin, her mind whirring. They would have their revenge, oh yes. The Lunar Festival approached, and the Dirge would be renewed and restored, ready to fight once more. Now, she only had to find some arcanite, perhaps a few mana-crystals, and she could get the ball rollingā¦
The Dirge of Teldrassil is heading to Ashenvale on the 23rd of January, and weāll be in Northern Kalimdor for the Lunar Festival. If you want to join the guild, or want more information, donāt hesitate to /w me in game, or you can find us in the Guild Finder in-game.
Weāre also part of the PCU, so if youāre not a Night Elf or Worgen, but youāre interested joining some awesome RP, check out this other thread (Also check out the latest posts there, they contain plenty of screenshots of the Battle of the Necropolis!)
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A terrifying host of elven and worgen marauders. Vengeful and ruthless, indeed!
Tyrande would be proudā¦
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Astranaar, Ashenvaleā¦
Vashava relaxed in the inn, eating an Azshari Salad and drinking manawine, as the Dirge celebrated the latest promotion within their ranks. The talk varied, from plans for the future, current Horde movements, and the value of human allies. It was quite nice, she mused, as the Dirge relaxed in their homeland. But soon, the drums of war would sound once again. Vashava took another sip of manawine, and focused on the celebrations again. For now, they would be happy, and tomorrow, they would hunt once more. Reports had come in of trees dying in the south of Ashenvale, and sickly, sticky remains being all that was left. Horde or not, the Dirge would hunt down the cause, and end it.
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It all started out as fairly straight forward, The Dirge were approached by a Priestess who told them of a Horde Patrol around Blackfathom camp, they moved out to investigate with a simple objective, locate the patrol and eliminate the Horde filth that had dared venture onto Kaldorei lands. However on arriving instead of a Horde patrol they encountered a number of old god worshipping cultists, a battle broke out, but soon sinister whispers from the shadows assaulted the Dirge forces as the cultists attempted to corrupt them into serving the Old God and abandoning their cause of reclaiming the Kaldorei lands, eliminating the Horde threat and bringing justice and vengeance for the burning of the Tree
The whispers had crept into her mind, at first almost trying to mimic her own thoughts, pretending to be her, but then changing as they became louder, pushing harder, trying to drown out her own mind and replace her thoughts with those of the whispers. They offered her power, power if she served, promising her so much, trying to tempt her to betray those around her, trying to convince her that it was the only sensible thing to do. They told her the others of the Dirge already served themā¦that Lady Nethersong had crossed and betrayed the Dirge already, why not join her, join the cause. It would make senseā¦you wonāt be betraying them by serving us ā¦you will just be doing what is right, Why resist , just join us, serve us, and we will give you everything you want, power, influence ā¦ anything you want we can give you.
Ilistria had felt her anger rise, it was not the first time in her life something had tried to push into her mind, tried to corrupt her thoughts, she screamed back inside her head at the voices, GET OUTā¦GET OUT OF MY HEAD!, she heard herself shouting it out loud, was aware vaguely of her companions around her looking at her. Then aware of being grabbed and dragged back by Sister Forestarrow. Her anger rose more, screaming at the voices I WILL NEVER JOIN YOU, I WILL DESTROY YOU , GET OUT GET OUT!. Then she was vaguely aware of flying on a Hippogryph, she could see the forest rush past below her, still the voices whispered, trying to push deeper into her mind, find out what would sway her, tempt her, make her join.
Then she felt warmthā¦.love ā¦. a silver light, like the moon seemed to surround her, filling her mind with its own whispers and thoughts, Elune was with her, she heard a distant voice chanting, Elune would protect her, believe in her, feel her, use her power and strength to push the shadows away. The whispers seem to grow softer, less sure, instead of pushing they seem to recede , the silver light around her grew more intense and she felt the whispers, the shadowy presence around her jolt almost as if in pain as the silvery moon light got brighter. Then the whispers were gone. To be replaced by a deep and peaceful sleep.
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The Dirge has been out and fighting more loyalists in Hillsbrad with some allies, attempting to claim that vengeance that the night elves deserve!
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Loving the roleplay with this guild at the moment, if youāre looking for a Nelf/Worg guild, look no further
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The Dirge had arrived in Greenwarden Grove to assist the local sentinels with an orc problem. It had turned out it was not a normal orc problem , but void corrupted orcs that had come together in some dark cult and formed a base in some caves north of the grove. The intention seemed to be to attack the grove and destroy it.
The Dirge had set out while a large number of the orc cultists had been out scouting, in preparation of the upcoming attack, They had hit the base hard and fast, killing the remaining sentries and finding the cult leader who they dispatched after a vicious battle. However before the orc breathed his last he had been able to blow some strange horn and shout out something about Dragonmaw will live again.
Shortly after one of the Dirge scouts returned warning that a dragon was fast approaching the cave, the Dirge had made haste to exit the cave, but on arriving at the entrance found the dragon had already arrived, it was not the largest of dragons but seemed to have been void corrupted like the cultist orcs and was being ridden by another of the orc cultists.
The Dirge had little choice but to fight the new threat and were after a lengthy and hard fought battle victorious in slaying the foul beast. Although at the cost of several injured and the Darkcrest having her arm bitten off by the beast. But the Dirge present at the battle could now be known as Dragon Slayers, and with such a victory the Horde and loyalist forces they hunted would surely fear them more.
They had returned to the grove to get healed and rest after the battle, and through some as yet unknown and unwitnessed arcane magical means the Darkcrests arm had been restored to her. Ilistria had thought best not to ask too deeply about this and prefered not to know what dark or forbidden magics may have been used
Ashsaber Blakemore had also returned to the Grove , He had been covered in the blood of corrupted orcs , whom he had claimed had ambushed him. He had not seem best pleased to have missed the battle to slay the dragon and Ilistria had made a point of making sure he knew that to and to push him on how he had failed to notice the dragon while out scouting, The demotion that followed she assumed was due mostly to his jealousy over not becoming a dragon slayer like the rest of those present. But she cared little for rank or coin, all she cared about was killing horde and loyalist filth and getting vengeance for her fallen kin and besides she thought she had a better title now than any rank offered her, Dragon Slayer.
Soon the Dirge would return once more to Ashenvale.
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The Dirge of Teldrassil are currently in Astranaar IC, and weāre getting ready for a packed schedule of relic hunting and caravan raiding, and killing any Horde/talking rats that get in the way. A busy week lined up, so if fighting the Horde is something you want to do, now would be a great time to consider joining!
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Ariallaās hands trembled as she sat close to the Moonwell of Purity, it was one of the most sacred of places in Ashenvale and a Sinādorei force had attacked the Dirge while a blessing was being performed by Arialla.
The priestess had not felt such anger since the tree had burned, how dare the sinādorei come to such a holy place, how dare they disrupt a ritual blessing, how dare they try and steal water from the Moonwell and try and defile and corrupt its water by bringing some undead monster with them who tried to use its cursed rune blade to channel dark magic into the pure water of the well.
It was a foolish act by the sinādorei to attack them at the moonwell, even more so when a ritual blessing was underway, Elunes presence had already been called to the area, the power and strength of the goddesses blessing channelling into the priestess, She had been mid chant. When a sinādorei had leap up on to the edge of the Moonwell and tried to stab her, she had immediately summoned a shield of protection around herself, although had not been prepared for the raw power she felt surge into her as she did, for a moment she had almost been overwhelmed by it, causing her to stagger back directly into the moonwells pure waters. But the moment of shock had passed swiftly and the priestess had quickly started to draw directly on the power of the blessed waters she now stood within, she had called to Elune to aid the Dirge as they fought the sinādorei and had called down burning moonlight to smite the defilers.
Normally when Arialla had called upon so much aid she would have felt quickly drained, but this time it had been different, the waters of the well had channelled into her body, feeding her with raw and seemingly unlimited power to draw upon and the priestess had taken full advantage, not holding anything in reserve as she sought to strike back at the attackers and keep the Dirge that fought around her healed, and all the time her shield of protection had remained powerfully strong resisting all attempts by the enemy to cut the priestess down.
The Dirge had after a time forced the sinādorei to flee the battle, dragging their wounded with them. The Dirge had pursued them through the forest, seeking to end them for good, but they had failed to catch them before they reached a horde encampment and had been forced to give up the chase.
Arialla, looked down once more at her shaking hands and started to breathe deeply, trying to calm her mind and body, it had been a long time since she had channelled so much raw power and her head was still spinning from its effects.
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Got room for a worgen alchemist?
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We most certainly do. Throw Enoch or I a /w in game to sort something out 
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Somewhere in Felwood, several carriages, heading from Everlook, Winterspring to Astranaar, Ashenvale, trundle down the roadā¦
Vashava Nethersong watched the sickly trees move slowly by through a curtained window, as she sat in her carriage, sipping manawine. The last three days had drained her. The Dirge, most carried in the carriages behind her own, had been drawn into a prolonged engagement with the Highblood Myrmidons, fighting over the Idol of Devouring Roots. The idol was an ancient relic, thought long lost since its last recorded use in the War of the Satyr, it had been tracked down to the lake near Satyrnaar, buried in the silt and dirt for millennia.
Somehow, her errant descendants had found out about the Idol as well, and had decided to claim it for their own. Vashava glared, and her ladyās maid passed her chocolate, which she ate, her glare receding. Not that it had done them much good, in the end. Still the first fight had not ended well for the Dirge. They and the Highblood had clashed at the lake, and while at first they were even numerically, the Highblood were reinforced, and the Dirge had been driven back. Once the Dirge had regrouped, a plan had been drawn up: seek Eluneās blessing, then hunt down the foe.
Of course, that had not gone to plan. The Highblood had had the audacity to attack the Moonwell where the Dirge sought out Eluneās blessing, and had paid a heavy price. While the Dirge may have lost the idol, they would not lose a Moonwell. The fury that this foolish attack had roused in the Kaldorei and Worgen under her command was a wonder to see. Vashava smiled, and drank some manawine. The Highblood had been hounded from the Moonwell, beaten and bloodied by superior spellcraft, faster blades and the power of nature itself.
And yet, this was all for naught, in the end. Earlier this very day, the Dirge had chased the Highblood down, to the Forgotten Pools in the Northern Barrens. The fight had been long, and bloody. The Highbloodās mage had attempted to drain power from the Idol. Vashava sighed at this memory. The young were so foolish. One does not dabble with druidic devices. The damned thing had exploded, unleashing all of Natureās tormented fury upon the combatants, more so than had already been summoned forth by the Sinādoreiās foolish prodding.
Vashava had jury rigged a dimensional ripper to tear open the way to Everlook for the Dirge, leaving the Highblood to deal with the mess they created. And the Dirge had escaped, although their wounds would need attention over the course of this journey. Vashavaās ladyās maid topped her manawine up, and added powdered Lifestone to it. Vashava drank deeply, and relaxed further into the silk pillows. She flicked the curtains shut with a wave of her hand. The Dirge may not have the Idol, but neither did the Horde, and the Highblood were gone from Ashenvale. All in all, sheād take it. There would be other times for the great victories, but in war, one had to savour the little triumphs as well.
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In OOC news, here is an update on how weāre operating in the post 8.3 world:
Hello Kings,
The Dirge of Teldrassil has been around for half a year now, and how the situation has changed! As a result of these changing times, the Dirge is also changing. Weāre still a guild aimed at Night Elves and Worgen who actively seek revenge for Teldrassil and the other crimes of the Horde (Loyalist or Rebel), but now weāre becoming a formal unit in the Army of the Black Moon.
As Tyrande has continued to ignore Anduinās peaceful entreaties, and refuses to sign any treaty with the Horde, this war is not over for us. As such, we will be doing a mix of RP-PVP and PVE events. We are remaining a guerrilla unit, focusing on lightning fast raids, subterfuge and assassination of high value targets in the Horde. However, we will also be focusing on countering efforts from the Horde and others to do the same in Kaldorei lands.
Weāre open to Night Elves or Worgen of any class, including death knights, demon hunters and warlocks, but if you are one of these three, do not expect a warm welcome. Whilst destructive capabilities are required, many will still see the use of the darker arts as something barely tolerated, not embraced.
All members should have some stake in avenging the wrongs of the War of the Thorns, from the Burning of Teldrassil to the Sack of Lorādanel. In terms of uniform, there is no hard-and-fast rule, but something that pairs well with either the Darnassus tabard, or the Guild tabard, is the only general restriction.
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In one of the carriages behind Darkcrest Vashavaās had been a druid of the Claw, slipping in and out of consciousness as they traveled. From cuts to burns, blunt impact, arcane and Light energy surging into her body. Stillbranch had experienced it all these past few days.
With a somewhat mournful glance she glanced over to the pair of claws at her side, both weapons forged from metal, wood, moss and rage. Once, they had the bright green glow of nature covering them, energy surging through them. Now, the moss withered, the wood had darkened, and the glow had turned dim.
Yet, she pondered, it had been necessary. Without draining them, sheād have lost her own life that day. It had been a few days of heavy fighting, the last one worst of them all.
Sinādorei clad in black and gold did what they do best: messing with forces far beyond their comprehension. In the process, they had managed to infuriate the Idol, nature itself and by extension, their meddling had driven Taneri to rage beyond reason. While she fought many, the worst had been a fire-wielding spellblade, particularly nasty in that burns are much harder to heal.
Her armor had been obliterated, taking slashes, smashes, burns, everything imaginable. Her body hadnāt fared much better, any other person might have died. She would have, had the Idol not ended its existence quite the way it did.
A violent explosion of raging nature, bringing forth a plentiful amount of life for her to draw on to restore her consciousness, so she could drain those trusty weapons of hers.
Yet, in the end, it had been well worth it. While she didnāt get to keep a trophy, they had ensured that the Horde wouldnāt further torment the world. At least, not in this particular way. āPerhaps we do deserve a moment of rest.ā The druid had uttered to nobody in particular, as she sank off into a deep, long slumber.
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Great RP-PVP today! Would definitely do it all over again!
Nyssi will need blood for the death of one of her members though 
I recommend this guild for sure!
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The Dirge of Teldrassil have come to Stormwind, to meet with allies and recruit from the refugee population. Seek us out if you want more information, or desire to join us.
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If i would everā¦ consider doing some Alliance RPā¦ this guys are the first i would check out.
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After a cooperative victory against the Loyalists at the Assemblage of Uld and Order of Oronaarās side, the Dirge look to burying one of their fallen.
May the name, Taneri Stillbranch, echo in the forests of Ashenvale and incite vigor into those who still stand.
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