Beloved brother,
News reach me that you are awake from thy slumber and once again walk upon this earth. My heart is filled with joy as I look forward to the day we will see each other again. 'Tis been a long time, brother, and many things have come to pass.
My travels have been filled with great adventures since I have left the protective forests of Teldrassil. I have embarked on a great number of quests in Darkshore, Astranaar, Menethil Harbor,Booty Bay and many more. I have found temporary shelter in Gadgetzan, Tanaris. If you think Darkshore is rather grim, wait until you set foot in Darkshire, which I would encourage you to avoid at all cost. Darkshire is a foul place indeed, where an everlasting darkness reigns supreme, a mist that never lifts and the dead walk upon the putrid earth. I shudder at the mere thought. But, perhaps as a holy cleric in the service of Elune you might bring light, healing and hope into that dark place. The choice, as always, lies with you dear brother but be warned! Walk swiftly and never alone. And if you hear voices from the dark that cry to you in a childlike voice, run. Run and don't look back ...
Be wary of the Horde if you travel back to the outskirts of Astranaar, for they stalk all who pass. Not long ago a raid group assaulted Auberdine and if it was not for the aid of a priest, I would have been killed in the ensuing battle. Brave elves quickly banded together and, with the help of a few noble humans we managed to beat the invading Horde back. As revenge, the humans persuaded us and we took and held Splintertree Outpost as sign that the Alliance is strong and will strike back when provoked. Your healing powers may be needed in Astranaar, for conflict constantly breaks out between the two factions.
Booty Bay is an interesting, but shady place. It is a small dock settlement made out of, most interestingly, the hulls of old ships! Here, both Horde and Alliance put most of their differences aside and come to attend to their business. Bother no one and you shall not be bothered either. It makes me rather uncomfortable rubbing elbows with an undead warlock but I guess I have no choice but to conform.
Whitefang, my close friend and ally has been at my side relentlessly. Many dangers we have faced and many treks the poor thing had taken to the Astral Plane, sacrificing herself for me. I had traveled back to Teldrassil not long ago so she can meet with her kind once more. It was quite a beautiful sight to watch dear Whitefang run freely and carelessly the quiet plains, along with other nightsabers. I was surprised to notice how much bigger than her kin she now is. She grows stronger still.
I have made many friends. Daishanar, a most noble and strong mage of the human race has been with me in much of my adventures. Good old Sive is alive and well, ever the joker. I have not heard from Kestutis the druid in a long time. Last I we ran into each other we were in Astranaar. I am afraid something terrible has befallen him. Ah, I’m sure I am worrying for nothing.
Alas, I must hastily end this letter, for I am tired from a long journey and who knows what tomorrow might bring. Farewell, brother, and hope to see you soon!
May Elune light your path.
Shaya L. Fein
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Sunday, October 02, 2005
Synopsis: Wardens of Nethergarde
It is common knowledge that the Orcs came through the Dark Portal from the world of Draenor many years ago. The rift was formed by the demonic magic of Medivh and Gul’Dan, and over the years of the first and second war the bloodthirsty Horde poured through, ever vigilant of their precious gateway.
When the second war ended, the Alliance victorious over the Horde, the portal was ordered destroyed. The Orcs already on Azeroth were trapped with no hope of ever seeing the Red World again. While they were rounded up and placed in internment camps, the Citadel of Nethergarde was constructed to watch over the ruins of the portal which became known as the Black Morass. Eventually, just as foreseen, the portal began once again to grow and take shape on its own. Ner’Zul the shaman had found a way to re-open the portal and had led a small army of Orcs back into Azeroth. King Terenas of Lordaeron could not afford to take the chance and think that Ner’Zul’s quick retreat would be the end of the conflict, thus he sent General Turalyon with a contingent of troops into Draenor to stop the Horde once and for all.
Ner’zul however had discovered a way to open many portals and planned to use them to march on and invade other unsuspecting worlds. Little did he know that the collective energies generated by these open portals threatened to rip Draenor apart. Seeing the world shaking itself apart, Turalyon made a selfless decision. Rather than idly stand by and watch the destruction ripple through and take Azeroth as well, Turalyon and his group destroyed the portal from their side. No one would ever know the fate of the heroes who saved so many.
Unknown to Turalyon was that while in Draenor, a rescue mission was assembled and dispatched to the portal from Nethergarde. The garrison, knowing that they would be the first to fall if the Horde was not stopped, advanced on the portal hoping to reinforce Turalyon’s position. Before reaching the portal, a group of Orcs left behind by Ner'Zul ambushed the garrison in a bloody skirmish. The deadly troups of Clan Shadow Moon, aided by their dark magic, were able to surprise and nearly cripple the opposing force. The humans fought with unmatched valor on that day and with a great charge they were finally able to cut the orc line in two. Just as things started to look up for the humans, the portal collapsed before their eyes filled with horror, its energies dissipating in a furious storm. In the confusion, the fugitive orcs escaped and the garrison ordered back.
A young officer in the armed forces attempted over many weeks to rally support for an effort to find some way to discover the fate of General Turalyon. Disgusted by a complete lack of interest from his superiors and The Alliance as a whole, Officer Arnault gathered a small mercenary force to ensure Nethergarde would stand always to guard against the threat of Draenor. Over time, the mercenaries grew close together and became much more than mere paid troups. They became comrades, brothers and sisters in arms.
To this day, The ‘Wardens of Nethergarde’ stand guard and hunt down any who ally themselves with the bloodthirsty Horde, and eagerly look for the day when, on the fields of battle, they will get to meet those who got in their way . . .
When the second war ended, the Alliance victorious over the Horde, the portal was ordered destroyed. The Orcs already on Azeroth were trapped with no hope of ever seeing the Red World again. While they were rounded up and placed in internment camps, the Citadel of Nethergarde was constructed to watch over the ruins of the portal which became known as the Black Morass. Eventually, just as foreseen, the portal began once again to grow and take shape on its own. Ner’Zul the shaman had found a way to re-open the portal and had led a small army of Orcs back into Azeroth. King Terenas of Lordaeron could not afford to take the chance and think that Ner’Zul’s quick retreat would be the end of the conflict, thus he sent General Turalyon with a contingent of troops into Draenor to stop the Horde once and for all.
Ner’zul however had discovered a way to open many portals and planned to use them to march on and invade other unsuspecting worlds. Little did he know that the collective energies generated by these open portals threatened to rip Draenor apart. Seeing the world shaking itself apart, Turalyon made a selfless decision. Rather than idly stand by and watch the destruction ripple through and take Azeroth as well, Turalyon and his group destroyed the portal from their side. No one would ever know the fate of the heroes who saved so many.
Unknown to Turalyon was that while in Draenor, a rescue mission was assembled and dispatched to the portal from Nethergarde. The garrison, knowing that they would be the first to fall if the Horde was not stopped, advanced on the portal hoping to reinforce Turalyon’s position. Before reaching the portal, a group of Orcs left behind by Ner'Zul ambushed the garrison in a bloody skirmish. The deadly troups of Clan Shadow Moon, aided by their dark magic, were able to surprise and nearly cripple the opposing force. The humans fought with unmatched valor on that day and with a great charge they were finally able to cut the orc line in two. Just as things started to look up for the humans, the portal collapsed before their eyes filled with horror, its energies dissipating in a furious storm. In the confusion, the fugitive orcs escaped and the garrison ordered back.
A young officer in the armed forces attempted over many weeks to rally support for an effort to find some way to discover the fate of General Turalyon. Disgusted by a complete lack of interest from his superiors and The Alliance as a whole, Officer Arnault gathered a small mercenary force to ensure Nethergarde would stand always to guard against the threat of Draenor. Over time, the mercenaries grew close together and became much more than mere paid troups. They became comrades, brothers and sisters in arms.
To this day, The ‘Wardens of Nethergarde’ stand guard and hunt down any who ally themselves with the bloodthirsty Horde, and eagerly look for the day when, on the fields of battle, they will get to meet those who got in their way . . .
Sunday, July 31, 2005
The story of Toranaga
The cold wind and heavy rain were mercilessly beating against the cloaked figure as it walked with heavy steps on the secluded, muddy road. It was now late in the night, and the slender man cursed quietly, frustrated with his predicament. He was returning from a mission of utmost importance and secrecy that required his presence at a nearby farm. The news he carried were grim indeed, for the rumors about agents of the Scourge wondering about have been confirmed as fact. The town militia now held hostage one of the vile creatures and were awaiting further orders and hopefully an escort from Stormwind.
Their waiting was all in vain, for help would never arrive in time.
At the sight of lights from the small village up ahead the man picked up his pace, eager to exchange his soaked clothes with a set of fresh, dry and clean ones, sit down at the tavern with a mug of ale and forget about the day's events. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the tavern's door. He swung it open, his hand aided by the strong wind that savagely blew in and extinguished oil lamps nearby. A chair that was behind the door was sent flying across the floor and crashed against a table. All the eyes in the tavern bore hard on him and the man, visibly embarrasseded, struggled to shut the heavy wooden door behind him. A few moments later everyone resumed their conversations. The tavern was busier than usual, the man noticed as he was taking off his wet cloak at long last.
Paul! Do come join us! came a voice from a table at the very back of the room. A strong man with a wide smile waved with enthusiasm as he set himself back down in the chair. He could hardly contain his excitement until the new guest made his way to the table. Two mysterious-looking men were also seated at the table. Mug of ale, double-time! he yelled at the maiden.
So? What have you heard? asked the strong warrior as Paul was sitting down.
It is as we suspected, I'm afraid. The Scourge sent agents forth.
All three men gasped in unison and immediately became brooding, for the implications were dire indeed. They were all slumped forward so no one around could hear. How wrong it seemed then to not share the news with the townfolk so they could prepare for battle just in case. The air of seriousness clung only to their table, for all around them the patrons were exchanging stories with laughter and occasional cheers.
Ah well, said Paul at length. We can do little until we receive word from Stormwind, yes? Let us forget about tonight's happenings and relax for a change.
Well, I suppose you're right said one of the companions. Long have we been stressing over this matter and I, for one, could use a break.
The maiden was just making her way at the table to serve some ale when cries of battle were suddenly heard from outside. The door was then blown from it's hinges, sending splinters everywhere, the sudden rush of wind snuffing out most of the candles and oil lamps. All men jumped from their chairs and drew their weapons. The flames from the few candles remaining were dancing wildly, creating lively shadows all around.
In the doorway stood a huge humanoid figure, bloody axe in each hand. A bolt of lightning ripped through the night, bathing the tavern in bright white light and to everyone's horror revealing the face of the aggressor.
Vile undead! The Scourge attacks! one of the men shouted. He barely finished his sentence when his words became a gurgle of warm blood as a blade exploded through his chest. An undead rogue used the split second when the door was shattered and no one was watching to make his way in, emerging from the shadows at the precise moment, striking the unfortunate man from behind.
The huge undead standing in the door issued a horrible, guttural laugh that sent shivers through everyone's bones. Paul realized they were doomed. As the men arround him shook of the initial shock and screamed with rage charging at the door, he leaped at the rogue that was not too far from him, thinking to make short work of it. But the undead was ready and parried the blow easily. Their swords connected many times in flashing movements, neither gaining any advantage over their opponent. The fight lingered for minutes while more undead agents made their way in and were battling the brave men that would not allow their loved ones to fall to the Plague. They were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to keep everyone safe.
Paul was hurt. A throwing knife struck him in the shoulder and he was bleeding profusely. As he was growing weaker, the rogue would win, that much he knew. In a desperate move, he prepared himself to leap at his aggresor to at least maim him and ease the task for one of his comrades, but he never got the chance to pull it off. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the Scourge agents throw a small pouch in the middle of the room. It hardly touched the floor when it exploded in a dark and thick could of green noxious gas, spreading quickly in the tavern. All around him the men started choking and falling to the floor as some of the undead were taking advantage of the situation to kill the helpless victims.
The cloud was now upon him and was quickly stealing his life force. With a loud clang he dropped his sword and was beginning to sway. Being the last man standing, all around him he could hear the undead laughing at him, mocking him, taunting him. Paul fell to his knees clutching at his chest. His mind was almost gone now, the world around him growing darker and darker.
It would be the last time he would ever see the world through the eyes of an ordinary man ...
Their waiting was all in vain, for help would never arrive in time.
At the sight of lights from the small village up ahead the man picked up his pace, eager to exchange his soaked clothes with a set of fresh, dry and clean ones, sit down at the tavern with a mug of ale and forget about the day's events. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the tavern's door. He swung it open, his hand aided by the strong wind that savagely blew in and extinguished oil lamps nearby. A chair that was behind the door was sent flying across the floor and crashed against a table. All the eyes in the tavern bore hard on him and the man, visibly embarrasseded, struggled to shut the heavy wooden door behind him. A few moments later everyone resumed their conversations. The tavern was busier than usual, the man noticed as he was taking off his wet cloak at long last.
Paul! Do come join us! came a voice from a table at the very back of the room. A strong man with a wide smile waved with enthusiasm as he set himself back down in the chair. He could hardly contain his excitement until the new guest made his way to the table. Two mysterious-looking men were also seated at the table. Mug of ale, double-time! he yelled at the maiden.
So? What have you heard? asked the strong warrior as Paul was sitting down.
It is as we suspected, I'm afraid. The Scourge sent agents forth.
All three men gasped in unison and immediately became brooding, for the implications were dire indeed. They were all slumped forward so no one around could hear. How wrong it seemed then to not share the news with the townfolk so they could prepare for battle just in case. The air of seriousness clung only to their table, for all around them the patrons were exchanging stories with laughter and occasional cheers.
Ah well, said Paul at length. We can do little until we receive word from Stormwind, yes? Let us forget about tonight's happenings and relax for a change.
Well, I suppose you're right said one of the companions. Long have we been stressing over this matter and I, for one, could use a break.
The maiden was just making her way at the table to serve some ale when cries of battle were suddenly heard from outside. The door was then blown from it's hinges, sending splinters everywhere, the sudden rush of wind snuffing out most of the candles and oil lamps. All men jumped from their chairs and drew their weapons. The flames from the few candles remaining were dancing wildly, creating lively shadows all around.
In the doorway stood a huge humanoid figure, bloody axe in each hand. A bolt of lightning ripped through the night, bathing the tavern in bright white light and to everyone's horror revealing the face of the aggressor.
Vile undead! The Scourge attacks! one of the men shouted. He barely finished his sentence when his words became a gurgle of warm blood as a blade exploded through his chest. An undead rogue used the split second when the door was shattered and no one was watching to make his way in, emerging from the shadows at the precise moment, striking the unfortunate man from behind.
The huge undead standing in the door issued a horrible, guttural laugh that sent shivers through everyone's bones. Paul realized they were doomed. As the men arround him shook of the initial shock and screamed with rage charging at the door, he leaped at the rogue that was not too far from him, thinking to make short work of it. But the undead was ready and parried the blow easily. Their swords connected many times in flashing movements, neither gaining any advantage over their opponent. The fight lingered for minutes while more undead agents made their way in and were battling the brave men that would not allow their loved ones to fall to the Plague. They were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to keep everyone safe.
Paul was hurt. A throwing knife struck him in the shoulder and he was bleeding profusely. As he was growing weaker, the rogue would win, that much he knew. In a desperate move, he prepared himself to leap at his aggresor to at least maim him and ease the task for one of his comrades, but he never got the chance to pull it off. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the Scourge agents throw a small pouch in the middle of the room. It hardly touched the floor when it exploded in a dark and thick could of green noxious gas, spreading quickly in the tavern. All around him the men started choking and falling to the floor as some of the undead were taking advantage of the situation to kill the helpless victims.
The cloud was now upon him and was quickly stealing his life force. With a loud clang he dropped his sword and was beginning to sway. Being the last man standing, all around him he could hear the undead laughing at him, mocking him, taunting him. Paul fell to his knees clutching at his chest. His mind was almost gone now, the world around him growing darker and darker.
It would be the last time he would ever see the world through the eyes of an ordinary man ...
Friday, June 17, 2005
A new guild
Daishanar and I have joined a new guild, Wardens of Nethergarde. It's a nice, mature, relaxed rp-ing guild of about 80 players which I think is worth a shot. I have already joined them, along with my alternate characters and Daishanar. Hope to see you along our ranks.
Their official website is http://won.bravehost.com
Their official website is http://won.bravehost.com
Monday, April 18, 2005
The fate of Broodslayers
It is with much regret that I announce the dissolution of our small, yet closely knit guild. Neither Kestutis nor I had the time we had hoped for in order to have guild events, keep interest going, recruit more active players and so forth. Rarely does it happen when more than one of us comes online at the same time.
Thus, we have decided to disband and perhaps seek out other guilds that are a bit more active. I am hoping that we’re not going to loose touch. I will add each and one of you to my friends list.
Having considered many guilds to join, I decided to go with House of Arathor.
I have quested many time and became good friends with one of it’s members and the guild sounds great. It has over 200 members and even so it is very closely knit, has weekly raids and RP events, voluntary in-game lotteries, get togethers and so forth. I managed to assure a spot for myself and should you wish to join, I will speak with the leadership about getting you accepted. I did mention that many Broodslayers may be left without a home :)
See Kingsofwarcraft.com
There is one potential drawback to House of Arathor. Each member is required to pay a weekly guild fee. This goes towards high-level guild crafters that can make items for all of us, various awards for contests and also goes towards to-be-implemented player housing. They plan on buying a whole castle!
So, if House of Arathor sounds appealing to you, let me know.
Please contact me with any questions you may have.
Farewell, friends and safe travels! Hope to see more of you in the World of Warcraft
Shaya Loriana Fein
Broodslayers Officer
Thus, we have decided to disband and perhaps seek out other guilds that are a bit more active. I am hoping that we’re not going to loose touch. I will add each and one of you to my friends list.
Having considered many guilds to join, I decided to go with House of Arathor.
I have quested many time and became good friends with one of it’s members and the guild sounds great. It has over 200 members and even so it is very closely knit, has weekly raids and RP events, voluntary in-game lotteries, get togethers and so forth. I managed to assure a spot for myself and should you wish to join, I will speak with the leadership about getting you accepted. I did mention that many Broodslayers may be left without a home :)
See Kingsofwarcraft.com
There is one potential drawback to House of Arathor. Each member is required to pay a weekly guild fee. This goes towards high-level guild crafters that can make items for all of us, various awards for contests and also goes towards to-be-implemented player housing. They plan on buying a whole castle!
So, if House of Arathor sounds appealing to you, let me know.
Please contact me with any questions you may have.
Farewell, friends and safe travels! Hope to see more of you in the World of Warcraft
Shaya Loriana Fein
Broodslayers Officer
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Starless Night
A starless night! I walk a lonely road in a dark forest and I can hear the distant cries and howls of twisted, terrible creatures. A heavy mist is in the air, which seems to hang heavily upon my shoulders. My soul is stirred by the acrid smell that is everywhere. I walk wearily, holding my holy staff close to me, although something tells me it would be useless here. The earth upon wich I walk is dead. The leaves, grass, trees, everything is dead and the broken branches I step on splinter with a loud snap that is not unlike a loud yelp to attract unwanted attention upon me.
Up ahead, there is a settlement. As I approach it I become increasingly aware of the evil spirits that haunt it. The faint, dark silhouettes slowly take shape from out of the mist as I get closer. It is a deserted human town, broken and corrupt. Something stirs somewhere within the walls of a crypt. As I direct my attention towards it, my vision blinks out for a short moment as I feel panic skulk over me like ice flowing through my veins. Down the long swirling underground corridors a wide room reveals itself, full of old and broken tombstones. But one seems to be untouched. Upon it I notice strange characters of a language unknown to me. Their contour is clear and sharp, as if they were just recently engraved. The characters begin to glow.
To my horror, I suddenly become aware that the evil I sensed earlier is concentrated within this very tomb. A terrible, long muffled cry of agony and terror comes out of the cold stone confinement. The heavy closure shakes once, followed by a deep silence. It shakes again and with a terrible grinding sound it slides away slightly and a frightening hand reaches out from the darkness within.
At that moment I awaken from the horrific dream, cold sweat covering my face. I shake my head in desbelief.
No, it cannot be! Toranaga! He has arisen!
Up ahead, there is a settlement. As I approach it I become increasingly aware of the evil spirits that haunt it. The faint, dark silhouettes slowly take shape from out of the mist as I get closer. It is a deserted human town, broken and corrupt. Something stirs somewhere within the walls of a crypt. As I direct my attention towards it, my vision blinks out for a short moment as I feel panic skulk over me like ice flowing through my veins. Down the long swirling underground corridors a wide room reveals itself, full of old and broken tombstones. But one seems to be untouched. Upon it I notice strange characters of a language unknown to me. Their contour is clear and sharp, as if they were just recently engraved. The characters begin to glow.
To my horror, I suddenly become aware that the evil I sensed earlier is concentrated within this very tomb. A terrible, long muffled cry of agony and terror comes out of the cold stone confinement. The heavy closure shakes once, followed by a deep silence. It shakes again and with a terrible grinding sound it slides away slightly and a frightening hand reaches out from the darkness within.
At that moment I awaken from the horrific dream, cold sweat covering my face. I shake my head in desbelief.
No, it cannot be! Toranaga! He has arisen!
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Greetings
Welcome to Chronicles of Warcraft!
More stuff to come soon. Will post in-character
This is basically a place where I and close friends post in-character anything that has to do with World of Warcraft and the characters we play.
If you'd like to be part of this, please post a message here.
More stuff to come soon. Will post in-character
This is basically a place where I and close friends post in-character anything that has to do with World of Warcraft and the characters we play.
If you'd like to be part of this, please post a message here.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)