The fire crackled in the hearth as the tavern bustled with the sounds of mugs clinking and boots stomping. In the corner, where the flickering light barely reached, a small group of adventurers huddled. Among them was Jarl, a new staff on his back with a raven carved into the top, and his grey beard flecked with frost from another journey into the icy heart of Naxxramas.
“I’ll tell you,” he began, lowering his voice as he leaned in, “Legacy started with just a few brave souls. We didn’t march into Azeroth looking for glory. No, we wanted to experience this world for what it is—to battle the beasts and demons of legend, to feel the grit of combat, and to build something more than just a guild. We built a home.”
The faces around him nodded. They knew the stories—of just three heroes defeating General Drakkisath, just over two dozen defeating the Black Dragonflight. They’d heard the legends of their early days, of the trials faced in Molten Core with sixteen adventures defeating the firelord. But these were not just tales from a book or dusty scroll. They were the foundation of Legacy itself.
“We’ve been at this for three and a half years now,” Jarl continued, his voice steady. “And now, we stand against the might of Kel’Thuzad, the very lich who commands Naxxramas. We bring him down week after week, but Naxxramas still holds its challenges. We’ve pushed through the wings and tasted victory, though we’ve set our sights on an even greater goal: clearing that cursed place in one night.”
Jarl paused for a moment, letting the weight of those words settle. “It’s within reach, my friends. Four wings down in a single night is just around the corner.”
Around the table, mugs were raised in salute. But Jarl wasn’t finished.
“We don’t raid for loot alone,” he said. “We don’t sell our victories to the highest bidder, and we don’t chase the trends that others follow. We’re here because we love Azeroth. We’re vanilla to the core, and our battles are fought for the joy of the fight itself.”
The tavern had quieted now, all eyes on the dwarf as he continued.
“Every Monday and Friday, we gather—7 to 10 in the evening, Pacific Time, when the skies darken and the world becomes our battlefield. We’ve walked through the flames of Molten Core, toppled the great Nefarian, and we still push into AQ40 when the call comes. But now, Naxxramas is where we prove ourselves.”
“But,” he added, “there’s always room for more in Legacy. Our ranks are filling fast, but we could still use a few more battle-hardened warriors, rogues, mages, healers, and all other adventurers. Some nights we’re forty strong, other nights we need more. Whether you’re new to this land or you’ve been wandering it since time began, there’s a place for you here.”
He stood, raising his tankard high. “So, for those of you who fight for the love of the fight—who seek out battle not for gold, but for honor—Legacy calls to you. Join us, and together we’ll make sure Azeroth remembers our name.”
The tavern erupted into cheers, tankards slamming on wooden tables, as the call to arms rang out.
Legacy—Mondays and Fridays, 7-10pm Pacific Time, Grobbulus Classic Era. Join us as we conquer Naxxramas, AQ40, BWL, and beyond. The battle awaits. https://discord.gg/Ux5m9wPYe3
Interested, but love the horde? Don’t join Requiem, that vile group of horde that is bolstering their own ranks!
