[N-RP-PvP] The Traitor Legion

Wyrmrest Accord
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Apologies to all who have been waiting expectantly for write ups and updates on the guild’s storyline. I’m having to condense my posts and stretch them out over several days / weeks due to how Blizzard treats forum topics, now. :frowning:

Regardless: with the Vol’kar landing en masse to the shores of Quel’Thalas, the extent of the continuous campaigns and wars are starting to show on the children of blood. Several households are left without capable men or women to shore up farmlands, or simply have had their holdings destroyed due to the start of the Blood War.

The cantankerous subject of the Void Elves has left a nasty taste within the mouths of the Horde, yet 'llo and behold, several elves do not see the reason to distrust their brethren who turned to void. The Vol’kar is renown for hold their opinions over faction politics to themselves at the behest of their commanders - but there is one policy that not even Saurfang could prevent the more ravenous of the Vol’kar’s ranks from preaching: K.A.V.E. :tm:

Deeper within the countrysides of the Ghostlands, this sentiment is not shared. Not even in the slightest. The Farstriders have combatted thieves, pillagers, and looters for months on end. Ever since Champion Fleetfoot’s first homeguard campaign, life has improved very, very little for the denizens of Quel’Thalas. While the ever-present threat of the Scourge will never be cleansed, (lest they win the proverbial lottery and a N’aaru itself cleanses the Dead Scar,) other issues have taken the forefront. That being the insidious Void Elves and their own ranger-corps, dubbed the “voidstriders”- a gross perversion of the Farstrider name, assail the same countryside they fought to protect just a year ago.

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Late within the eve on Sunday, a surprise ambush (aren’t all ambushes surprises?) assaulted the Vol’kar while their homeguard battalion was separated. While General Jarclair Richards led a small contingency of the Ironwing to repair a radio station, Champion Fleetfoot’s own squadrons were assaulted. Those in attendance were listed as follows:

General Neeza Highclaw
General Dolthar Blackfire
General Jarclair Richards
Centurion Vathias Nightsun
Champion A’relan Sunblade
Blood Guard Edero Steelfall
Stone Guard Essalie Westcrown
Quartermaster Shay Stormborn
Senior Sergeant Lynaelle Beaumonte
Senior Sergeant Ashagor Thundercleave
Sergeant Kar’kash Shadowhowl
Sergeant Valdryl Shadeblossom
Vanguard J’ava
Grunt Vok’hai
Grunt Borru
Grunt Dokleh
Grunt Tammani Hexsnap
Grunt Atul’kohl
Grunt Sheal’thiel

While many of High Command would chastise the commanding officers of the Vol’kar for allowing a Champion to lead such a large squadron with so many superiors present - it would have mattered not who led the field. The Void Elves appeared to be the foremost leaders of the ambush, but as the hours passed late into the morning, it was revealed a bigger player was at the table.

For those present during the Argus campaign, the presence of Shadowguard cartel Ethereals wouldn’t be surprising. However, many of those veterans have retired - and so, chaos and confusion ensued. The void elves were merely the attack dogs, and these shapeless fiends were their handlers.

They employed the very world around them against the Vol’kar. Nerubians from the crypts miles over, and the living decayed treants of the Scar. Despite beating them back from the Enclave, one thing was rather obvious: they had only revealed one card from their very stacked deck.

As the dust settled, Champion Fleetfoot lay unconscious, stabbed through the stomach by a phaseblade. Sergeant Lynnaelle’s wards lay defunct and broken, and General Richards nigh lost his life battling one of the ethereal spellcasters head-on. Other injuries not listed are otherwise already healed or dealt with- yet the scare left a wound that won’t ever be forgotten, especially among the Sin’dorei in the Vol’kar. To know that even your own homelands is no longer safe is simply a plague waiting to be spread.

With any luck, those within the homeguard battalion shall finally receive aid come the end of this week. First Sergeant Aelsa’Mori Mystfire will land with a fresh convoy of supplies, thanks be to Admiral Rustcleaver and the V.K.S. Rexxar’s Fist.

Meanwhile…

After visiting the homeguard regiment within Quel’Thalas, General Dolthar Blackfire conferred with the High Warlord and his recent plans. His sudden absence that lasted two weeks was revealed to be a [redacted] plan of action within Darkshore.

These plans, as foul as they may be, and some may say dishonorable, were decisive blows to the sentinel regiments that harried the Vol’kar on the western fronts of Kalimdor, preventing the night elves from pushing farther south into Ashenvale or Stonetalon. This quarantine will not last forever.

With repeated success rebuked by ferocious failures, the High Warlord toils in the war room, struggling to come to terms with the Blood War. With no foreseeable end in sight, the last thing he wishes to see is more death. It is secret to nobody that the population of Azeroth is declining - and the sword within the very planet should take top priority…

This war will stretch far, undoubtedly. Resolve must be maintained. The victors of any war are the ones left standing. Remember our words: Lok-Tar O’Gar.

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Very much do enjoy reading the story line summaries you post in this thread. In some ways feels a bit like a weekly series to tune in and read about. Cant wait for the next episode of Volkar Legion Kai

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The Defense of Quel’Thalas only continuously escalates, with one of the Vol’kar’s own allies falling to the shadow - right beneath their noses.

Traitors find no holding within the ranks of the Vol’kar. As all know, even outside the military, violence is the way of Azeroth. Those who draw the sword shall die by the sword.

After what was supposed to routine scouting, and, subsequently, capturing an enclave that was formerly under void elf control, Leana Autumnbow had played her hand and surprised the battalion. The Vol’kar was placed in a heated position with high chance for failure. Due to the gracious visage of the dice gods, the battalion managed to make it out of a second ambush safe and sound - with little injury to spare. There was only one void elf captured while the rest fled or lay dying. Sergeant Lynnaelle and General Richards saw to her… intense questioning.

Arriving late to the scene, the High Warlord ordered the immediate redeployment of forces to Tranquillien. With traitors in the forests, who knew what lay back at the enclave. Their main focus should be consolidating forces and hunkering down. The lessons of the Krasarang Wilds hold true today - if a large force such as the Vol’kar was hampered by a much smaller, guerrilla tactic, they would lose every time.

The next night, the High Warlord was advised by several members of the nightborne’s Duskwatch to gather specific troops within Tranquillien’s square. Apprehensive at first, there was no foul sorcery or trickery at play. It was simply Lynnaelle upholding her bargain to the Protectorate Ethereals that had hoped to assist us with the Shadowguard.

Netherstorm is unlike any other place in any universe imaginable. Bar none next to Argus, Jan-Mak, and the soldiers were weary. Rightfully so, as even two dozen years after its initial shattering, pieces of the world continuously broke away and floated into nothingness. Thankfully, their task was to assault one of the many consortium spires, as the void elves that were commandeered by the Shadowguard were using them for their dark schemes. These synthetic jungles, filled with experimental beasts, could not compare to the zealous nature of the traitorous elves that attempted to stop the flanking maneuver.

After finding their way to the spire, one of their short-term nemeses, Nezzarrine, had begun to channel a dark and powerful spell. While most soldiers and heroes have heard this tale before, the sheer power and essence of this channelling was astounding. The reason being the empowerment from his own pylons. An ancient beast was directly tethering himself to the loyal servant, ushering him into the beyond of Netherstorm.

The rest of these details shall never be uncovered. The soldiers remember a flash, a great battle, and Nezzarrine’s defeat, yet… the details… are simply… gone.

Whoever the beast was that was summoned - it did not wish those in Netherstorm to know his reach was far beyond and more.

In any case, these void elves know not with which they communicate. In their lust for power, they have fallen to the pawns of those they thought were the master. If only there were a way to redeem these sad souls besides the blade.

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With the armies of northern Eastern Kingdoms closing in on Quel’Thalas, the sparse territories that the Vol’kar held made it seem like battling on an open field would mean nothing more than several hundred casualties. With that, a new oppressive dawn brought to the Ghostlands.

The Ren’Dorei of the Ghostlands did well to hide their mark amongst the forests they grew up in. With every traitor that was brought to the blade, two more seemingly took their place. A cantankerous hydra that would never truly be rooted out in our lifetime. We could do no better than attempt to kill it.

Following the reveal at the Farstrider Enclave, and the debt taken by Lynnaelle on behalf of the Vol’kar, the commanding officers in charge of this campaign realized that they had increasingly few number of pieces to move on their board. A clean sweep, one would say. It was iconic and convenient. The traitors realized this about as soon as any anxiety touched the air. Goldenmyst Village fell under siege on Sunday of this past week. Senior Sergeant Aelsa’Mori Mystfire called as many as she could to help break it. Very few of the sin’dorei people decided to try and recolonize it, yet it was just enough to warrant a force to want to take it, and another force to protect it.

While philosophers and historians will sit at their desks, hunched over librams and books, asking themselves: what is war? What constitutes as a war? How many men and women must die before you call it a battlefield and not a skirmish? Questions like so will be asked for ages to come, even when warfare has evolved from simple spells and steel, to the struggles of the mind. For the men and women of Vol’kar: it takes just one life. The Ren’dorei were expecting key figures of the Vol’kar there, and the sons and daughters of Vol’jin played right into their hands.

While the siege went about as expected, with an exhausting back-and-forth wave of attacks, Quartermaster Shay Stormborn was caught unawares. While seeking to get another soldier back on their feet, the soft slip of a knife between her chin and collarbone was all that it took. Lives are so easy to take, and drinking ale comes as smooth as water. We try to drown the memories and act as if they never came in the first place. All we do is harm ourselves further. What is done is done.

Those words meant little to General Richards. Watching as his growing protege was reduced to a pulp - she who endured the Siege of Lordaeron, the incursion to Zuldazar, the skirmishes against the eldritch beings that slumbered beneath their feet… the General of the Ironwing took her body and was not seen again. They say the Forsaken feel no emotion besides vengeance and hatred. Jan-Mak would argue otherwise.

While attempting to do no more than offer subtle advice to the Champion, the various commanding officers began to lose their grasp. Perhaps this was their final campaign. Is this how they envisioned their deaths? In a land choked in darkness, unable to see the sun for the past month? Morale grows colder by the second.

First Sergeant Krik’thor Dreadwing thought otherwise. In conjunction with Centurion Vathias Nightsun, a small squadron spearheaded an effort into Deathholme. A different direction from where this war has taken them. Ignoring the efforts of the Ren’dorei and Alliance both, the cold-blooded ebon knight sought to bend the knee of the scourge that still dwell here. If they didn’t- then their spines would bend instead. Aided by Commander Raylen Valeblade of southern Tranquillien, Centurin Nightsun accomplished everything that he wanted and more. With several dozen knights of ebon at his side, including Ala’nare Darkstar, the remaining cultists that sought safehaven for their evil deeds were broken and bent to the Blade’s command. This, Nightsun thought, would be useful in their final battle. Although unsettled, First Sergeant Dreadwing begrudgingly agreed. He did not think the commanders of the Stonereavers would agree, but he was in no position to argue.

After a final diplomatic visitation to Zul’Aman, Centurion Pakzulan assured Champion Fleetfoot of their support. With all the pieces set, they decided to strike.

South of the Thalassian Pass, in northern Eastern Plaguelands, a mixed force of Alliance soldiers marched on. Within their company was several siege engines, siege towers, dwarven rifle regiments, and cavalry, there was little that they thought would stop them. Champion Fleetfoot felt weary, but she did not let her anxieties be seen. Above all else, this was her home. Over the short month, she could see it on the faces of the Vol’kar. From orckind to nightborne, they had all felt a growing bond. This was not just elven land anymore, it was Horde land. They would do everything and anything in their power to prevent it from falling under the blue banner. They had endured so much, and yet they needed to endure more.

The battle was met explosively. A strategist would say that the Vol’kar ambushed the marching column, but a soldier would say that the Alliance expected this. Footmen arranged themselves into their formations, with pikes and spears supporting the rifle lines. The bloodthirsty found themselves tasting their own blood from an ill-conceived charge. The Alliance commander, delighted at this, forced his siege engines deeper into Horde formations, not caring about the small-arms combat around him. In his hubris, the commander watched as the Vol’kar systemically broke the engines of war, including the engineers hiding within their tin cans. No matter, he thought, they still had to contend with his siege towers. Right he was, as it appeared that the Vol’kar couldn’t penetrate the thick steel, nor contend with the Azerite underweave that some soldiers possessed. Would they push into the Ghostlands? That answer appeared certain, until Champion Fleetfoot brandished the first of three horns, sounding loud and brave. From the underbrush surrounding the battlefield, blazing feline eyes leapt to join the fray. The Amani that heard Centurion Pakzulan made good on their promise. While loathing the idea of fighting alongside elven pinkskins, they would never abide by void-skins and humans. With their dirty tactics, the siege towers were rendered immobile.

She sounded the second horn, and a triumphant rumble was heard farther south. The wolfriders, organized by Sergeant Kar’kash Shadowhowl, came to their aid. The crashing flanking maneuver rendered the others that didn’t seek shelter inside the siege towers dead as the land around them. With the third horn, there was no sullen, dark rumble. Only a cold, whispy shriek. Undead limbs ruptured from the ground, and death gates ripped from the seams of the air. Centurion Nightsun’s ebon knights would break no oath.

With his army breaking, routing with one brilliant swoop, the Alliance Commander would not fall to his knees, nor be known as another failure for the rest of his days. He would die fighting. An honorable notion, even to the orckind.

The aftermath of this battle was not without the Vol’kar’s own casualties. With Stormborn dead, and General Richards AWOL, the logistics of resupplying were in complete disarray. Very few of the Mender’s Circle were present to prevent the wounds from festering further - causing the death of soldiers many hours after the battle. Many were routed on both sides as well - leaving the NCOs to seek those that abandoned the field when they were needed the most. Above all else, the Vol’kar lost another commanding officer during that battle. Centurion Iriari Danishi retired from her position, citing that with all this bloodshed, she wished to defend her homeland and nothing else. She was done travelling from the halls of Uldaman to the shores of Zuldazar. As long as there were ren’dorei in the forests, she would remain.

All that is left within the Vol’kar’s charter is to restore order to the lands, then quietly disembark back to Kalimdor. Few can believe that they spent almost two months here already, but the rankers of the Vol’kar know better than any grand-standing commander. They went to Ghostlands with many friends at their side, and now they’ll leave with very few of them.

A man once said: we should focus on the things in our control, and have contempt for the things not in our control.

So we shall.

[CAMPAIGN VICTORY]

… or is it?

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Jan-Mak offered a hand at Ithise’s words, glancing back to the village they spoke of. The troll looked calmly back at the night elf, gauging his battalion with another soft pause. “You may attack now… but you would lose.” he pursed his lips into a thin line.

The night elf sneered at Ithise. “If these lands truly are yours, Sin’dorei, fight for them.” Roelaar simply continued. “We will attack in twenty-three hours. You may prepare against our assault. Are these terms favorable?”

Jan-Mak’s burning embers threatened to singe straight through the elf. “On de’ break of eve.” he rumbled. “As you wish.”

The night elf slowly nodded. “May you all die with honor.”

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War erupted on the shores of Quel’Thalas yet again, with half-a-dozen Seventh Legion boats anchoring themselves on open waters off the beaches of Goldenmist Village. While The ren’dorei threat was mostly dealt with, the Vol’kar kept themselves stationed in the area to return peace and order to the lands. Helping with petty squabbles and rebuilding what was lost.

After a strange vision late within the night, Jan-Mak embarked deep into the forests near the northwestern half of the Dead Scar. There, he spied the second round of Alliance troops. After a short - and callus parley - it was obvious that there would be no diversion. Both sides of the field were soldiers with orders, and they aimed to carry them out.

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A vicious battle ensued, yet an unstoppable force met an immovable object. Neither side gave ground, and a monumental amount of casualties ensued. The Vol’kar won the day with the Seventy Third retreating, yet with considerably less troops than before. That was only the first battle, and they have no means to deal with the ships. Ancestors above and spirits below, we will do what we must. Lok-Tar O’Gar!

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A great RP-PvP spat last night with the Seventy Third. Absolutely intense match-ups that took us down to the wire each time, with several sudden death moments with all of our healers dead, and nitty-gritty strategem that we kept bouncing off of each other. i.e. the utilization of the buildings’ tight quarters, the high ground from either side, and the continuous rings of peace that kept our killsquads off of each other. With next Friday’s RP-PvP event already in the works, I can’t wait for additional moments in our storyline for bigger battles! Far too many good memories than bad ones!

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A change of pace - an update for the Vol’kar from an elf.

Well, that won’t surprise many people, but it’s one of Ted’s elves. Whoa. He plays those?

Following the RP-PvP, otherwise known as the Second Battle of Goldenmist Village, many armsmen and soldiers from both sides dubbed it “Chokepoint”. While the Seventy Third were outnumbered, they fought with ferocity and strength. Hatred guided their blows and sent many Horde soldiers to the grave. Strategists and historians always make note that size never equals strength. Despite the Horde’s overall victory of keeping them from the northern half of the Ghostlands, the Vol’kar’s War Council must take careful note. The Seventh Legion is still in the area, and the Sons and Daughters of Vol’jin will move when needed.

However, with two armies broken and routed, the High Warlord called a promotion ceremony to be held on the field. Within the heart of Eversong Woods, drawing a crowd of civilians and Farstriders at the Retreat, several members deserving of praise and promotion were rewarded.

Valdura, a terrifying specimen of a demon hunter, was risen to the rank of Legionnaire. They were one of the few who delivered a grievous blow to Roelaar of Hyjal.

Arlette Deloix, a magus from the grand cities of Suramar, finally proved herself to be worthy of Orgrimmar’s praise. Her spells and abilities to conjure grand shields of protection were invaluable to the Vol’kar’s defense of Goldenmist.

Ala’nare Darkstar, a foreboding, grim-faced ebon knight with an insidious past with his own people, has sought redemption and worth in these short few months. Upon joining, he was regarded with suspicion and mistrust, yet he came to the defense of many of his kin time and time again. He has shown everything that he may within his power to prove leadership and selflessness within our ranks. He now leads as a senior member of the Vanguard.

The twin-nightborne of the Second Cohort, (“the blueberries”, as Jan-Mak puts them,) Sergeant Lynnaelle Beaumonte and Sergeant Valdryl Shadeblossom, are a cantankerous pair. Slightly rebellious in their air of elven superiority, from the start, they were not destined for a bright future. They disagreed with the Horde’s motions at many places, and were quick to pique and pip their own insights. Not only that, but the High Warlord developed many migraines from Lynnaelle’s overwordy reports and flowery language.

However, damning as these may be, our character traits are also what empowers us. Their analytical notions and expertise resulted in astounding victories on the Horde’s behalf. Without either of them, the Vol’kar’s first night deep within the Ghostlands would have been disaster. Their workings with the Duskwatch helped enable many shieldings through utilization of the leylines. Furthermore, much to the initial displeasure of the High Warlord, Sergeant Lynnaelle brokered a deal with the Consortium to assist against the mysterious Shadowguard that controlled the voidstriders deployed in the Ghostlands. With the Vol’kar’s debt quickly repaid, there is little to leave to the imagination. Results, not speculation.

Risen to the rank of First Sergeant, Lynnaelle Beaumonte now presides and acts as a hand for General Blackfire within his Deathweaver company. To mirror his companion, Valdryl Shadeblossom, now a Senior Sergeant, shall become a specialized, elite scout within Lo’Gar’Nosh’s Kal’Garn.

Being the first into the fray and the last to reluctantly leave the bloodshed, First Sergeant Krik’thor Dreadwing was seen as a paramount for the dwindling morale of the Vol’kar. His stoic frame and few words inspired more action than any swaying speech could ever give. As well as the first in any fight, he was swift to discipline and mentor. No soldier went without seeing their menders, and no soldier went as a hero. Without keeping themselves regularly trained and ready for the next fray, they would have been as good as dead. He now fills the void that has remained vacant for so long in the Stonereavers as Stone Guard.

Behind every soldier lies the unsung hero. Nay, it isn’t their families, it is their menders and healers. Nobody wishes to think on the aftermath of a battle. Limbs lost, families ruined, and futures vanishes. The letters that must be sent home, the graves that must be dug, and friends that need to be consoled. Even though it was a homeguard deployment, the Vol’kar has felt loss on such a grand scale throughout the spring. Essalie Westcrown and Aelsa’Mori Mystfire both shouldered these pains throughout the campaign. With Lieutenant General Drakenbolt missing, and Blood Guard Hualing Softblossom retiring, the Mender’s Circle has felt as barren as Silithus. Westcrown’s stern temperament and motherly attitude are not to be mistaken. The void elves have done much to her and her family, and her powers over the Light have brought many of the devils to justice. She has ascended to the rank of Blood Guard.

Vengeance is a dish best served cold, yet it has the power to corrupt. An age-old story that chills the souls of Lordaeron and Quel’thalas’ both. With the death of Quartermaster Stormborn, First Sergeant Mystfire has seen it to be one of her personal missions to cut down as many enemies of the Horde as possible. While time may never tell how this story may unravel, she did not forget her place as a mender, a nurturer of death. Taking her superior’s former place, she now resides as Stone Guard.

Finally, a trait that is shared most commonly among the ranks of the officers and war council is stoic demeanor and little words. Some could say the edge is an intimidating factor, and others could say it is a facade for the weak. The wise say it is the trait of a leader. Leaders do not know the outcome; they have as much insight as the men and women they stand with. Leaders will stare into the cold, empty void and embrace whatever it is that comes to them.

“Lok-Tar O’gar” is not just a saying. It is a threat. A demand. A challenge. It is the mantra of the Horde, but it is the lifeline of the Vol’kar. It is a reminder of who they are, and what is at stake. It is not just titles, lands, and holdings, it is a way of life. Pinkskins may scream and shout for glory and for kingdoms, but the Horde holds no loyalty to higher powers than friends and family. Politics do not matter when it is a game of life and death.

The Blood Knight known as Ruscion came to the Vol’kar with uncertain future and pursed lips. He fought alongside the myriad of soldiers and heroes that no longer stand with us today. He has no exceptional story of his own, and he seeks no glory. He looks for the good in all people, and examines the situations as they come. He does not look for bloodshed, yet does not shy from it. He looks for peace, for the safety of the people of the Horde. His oath to his order forever remained with him, and it forever shall. Quel’Thalas may be the place of his birth, but the Horde shall be the place of his grave. He knows this to be true, deep within his heart. He does not find anxiety or any troubles with this idea. He finds comfort. Pride.

Universally loved, Ruscion ascended to replace the late Iriari Danishi. With a seat among the war council, and prospects for the future, Centurion Ruscion will be tasked with assisting the leadership of the First Cohort’s Stonereavers. He came to us a stranger, but remains to us our younger brother.

Concluding the promotions, the Vol’kar has enjoyed a quiet patrol of the elven lands. While they have no clue what is in store - nor do they know where the Seventh Legion will strike next, they remain with somber hearts.

To all of those who are no longer with us, we look to you for guidance in the Horde’s troubling hours. Lok-Tar O’Gar.

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Annnd Jaina is down! The Vol’kar claims it’s 7th AoTC as a guild. This tier gave us a lot of heartache and headache both. We learned a lot as a team and toughened up where we needed to. The amount of improvement we had in these few weeks compared to the last couple of years is insane! Heroic Jaina is a hard fight, but we psyched ourselves up so much that on the day she was downed, it only took us to attempt #5 to defeat her. For comparison: Heroic G’Huun took us 54 attempts. For most people, that may seem like we’re a bunch of scrubs and losers, however, as a primarily RP guild that refuses to outscource/PuG/etc, we’re proud of our accomplishments. We’re unsure if we’ll be able to get to Uu’nat, as the fatigue felt this tier is on par with Nighthold’s content drought.

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From left to right:

Edero, Zisho, Teylindra (Tellun), Goldnight (Serena), Bwon’ran, Vathias (Rayn), Myself (back), Juri (front), Lo’Gar’Nosh (kneeling), Ruscion, Lynnaelle (back), Elquis, Mystogan (Zandalari), Markahn (sitting), Valdura (kneeling), Tagarn (Krik’thor).

Moving on to the IC side of things:

WIth the anxiety and suspense that hadn’t been felt since the Argus campaign, the heavily-fatigued Vol’kar Legion continued their patrols and kept a watchful eye over the Ghostlands. Scouts reported nothing, unable to call or mention when and where the Seventh Legion would strike next.

Constant vigilance takes its toll, rendering many soldiers sapped in strength from lack of sleep and weariness. The ever-darkness of the Ghostlands disturbed many sleep cycles. With a week past their leave date, the Vol’kar was given a report of a downed caravan just on the main Eversong road. With simple investigation - and without proper intuition, they walked right into a trap.

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All taken by the wonderful Demitasse.

From the start, they fought a losing battle. Against a significantly improved force of hardened veterans, the Vol’kar could not rouse themselves to the might of the Alliance. Wave after wave, bout after bout, the bodies of the dead or dying piled high. The first two waves were met with sound defeat, yet following afterwards, there was a glimmer of hope.

With quick thinking, and a dangerous bark, Jan-Mak ordered the building be used against their foes. Harry their advance and prevent such a head-on collision. Although he had only met this elf twice, the High Warlord knew that Roelaar’s love of a good charge could be exploited. This stratagem could only be used twice, as on the fourth bout, the one that would mean certain victory or doom for either side - the Vol’kar was surrounded and cut off from their escape.

Defeat is a taste that is regrettably, far too common. Yet it is not always wise to go for victory. He saw the tiredness in his soldier’s eyes, the count of the dead. It was time to leave. The Farstrider regiments would have to pick up the pieces of where they left off. The Seventh Legion would be hard pressed to gain any land past the aforementioned perimeters.

Upon their return to their homelands, an old friend and battle-brother, Kazuki of the Gurubashi approached Jan-Mak with another, Ragzank. Blood begets blood, and bad news follows bad news. The long-standing allies of the Vol’kar, the Blood Forged Warband, was no more. They were not defeated in battle, nor broken up by high command, but chose to go their separate ways following the tense climate of the Horde.

Even with everything that had just transpired, there was still work to be done. Plenty of it, in fact. Jan-Mak sent Kazuki, the battlemaster-to-be to Desolace under the guidance of General Dolthar Blackfire. In the Horde’s absence, the homelands have turned to its normal disarray. Quillboar numbers have increased, and the Gelkis have chosen a new “Great Khan” that seeks to unite the tribes into one grand army. With his silvered tongue, Kazuki would be able to buy the Horde some time… right? Perhaps even diplomatic relations?

Unfortunately it was not meant to be, as the centaur-khanate rejected any and all inputs for peace, raving and ranting on the prospects of war and conquest. The allure of launching his people into a glorious age of fear. The preachings of a madman. While they wanted to do nothing other than kill the beast then and there, the amount of centaur in this village was simply staggering.

Adding that to their proverbial to-do list, Jan-Mak’s priorities were differently aligned. On Monday, at the call of General Blackfire’s command, the dark deeds had all aligned for one grand lectern.

Those who volunteered for this black mission had sworn themselves to secrecy. Nobody knows what happened on that night on the hill. Rumors spread that the Altar of Storms was used for a forbidden ritual. A body of a faceless one was found. Autonomous clans were worried about these actions.

Whatever was done there, it mattered not. The next morning, the High Warlord received a letter, accompanied by members of his war council and two dark rangers…

"Strange amount of void energies have been sensed near the borders of Desolace and Mulgore. The Wolfspear clan were ordered to send their sages to scry. What they found were soldiers wearing serpentine tabards and red clothing on a plateau of black. A sea of death. Cloaked in hundreds of damned souls - souls of beasts, men, women, and children.

A horrifying act for a dark ritual. It was cult-like in it’s execution. A detesting perversion of life.

[…]

Until further notice or command, the Vol’kar Legion shall be stationed within the confines of Kalimdor, protecting the countryside and keeping those you have so haphazardly endangered safe. There will be no further glory, diplomatic encounters, or specialized missions for you and your troops until the Warchief commands."

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Today is a special day, not because it’s my birthday, but because it will be my 4th birthday with the guild. That marks almost four years (guild turns 4 in December) of memories with the folks I call family. Unfortunately I will be behind on my weekly update to the guild forum, but I did want to take a moment and say that throughout my entire life, I have never had a more solid group of people that I can proudly call my family.

It’s a goofy and stupid thing to say, even from such a young person as myself, but I’ve always been in tough situations IRL. I rarely had friends and I was always getting into trouble. Without getting into a sob story or sounding obnoxious, I just want to say from the bottom of my heart: thank you all. I have no idea where I’d be without you guys. This is the absolute best guild that a guildmaster could ever ask for, and that’s a fact. <3

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I’ve been thinking of branching out into Horde RP with my Mag’har, what nights do you normally run events?

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We don’t really have any set schedules, and we always try to play it as a “When available” mindset, keeping IRL at the front of our minds. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays later in the evening seem to be hotspots for most DMs on our calendar, as well as Sundays.

Your best bet, if you’re interested in us is to get in touch with anyone Junior NCO and above who is online, and they can get your squared away, answering all your questions and putting any concerns you may have to rest.

And I’m always down to help possible new recruits so don’t be shy about poking me if you see me online.

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8.2 release date announced! While many of us are disgruntled about the expansion story-arc so far, we’re shaking off that rust and headed on the path to content and fun times.

As the house-arrest sentence tightened it’s grip around the Vol’kar Legion, many found this to be in their favor. While most soldiers were in fact unsettled at the idea of no action for some time, many enjoyed this newfound rest. Even though the gaze of dark rangers were around every corner, it was far more comforting than cultists and zealous Alliance forces.

There is little to discuss on the Vol’kar’s movements. High Warlord Jan-Mak left himself resigned to the idea of being contained to Kalimdor. Perhaps then he’d find some solace in the actions of his Warchief and what the Horde is turning itself to once again. Were it not for Chieftain Kar’lokk Ravensbane, perhaps the old troll would have found himself at the bottom of a bottle.

June 7th, “The Dawn of Summer” is what the soldiers called it. A feast to celebrate the sacrifice of the past few months. A day to remember that they are still mortal. War is not something that should direct their entire lives. At said feast on the Pridebreaker Clan’s grounds, both Vol’kar and Pridebreaker enjoyed merriment and relaxation, even tasting some of Admiral Rustcleaver’s storied chowder – well, after a clash of ideals, a mok’roghon, and several beaten orcs later.

With such faux-bloodshed, Kar’lokk invited the Vol’kar to the Hollowbreaker Coliseum. A tournament of strength to keep morale strong, slotted for June 22nd. A gamble to be sure, but one that would be greatly appreciated by all.

Opposite side, after the rough and tumble with the Pridebreakers, Admiral Rustcleaver set sail for Vol’dun, a cadre of the Vol’kar’s finest in tow. He picked this time of all time to embark on his mysterious journey to find the fabled disgraced Zandalari senator known as Oouzumondias. “Da King of Kings”. Prestigious indeed, to find this great wonder out in Azeroth’s biggest sandbox.

The comedic tale of the Admiral and his finest adventuring through the desert ends tonight in a climatic thriller known as “A Date With Destiny”. A story with Zandalari, secret SI:7 agents, an old face, heartbreak, confusion, anger, betrayal, possible romance, and chowder alllll comes to a head. The report on the High Warlord’s desk will certainly be confusing. Did I mention that Centurion Emberbrook is currently locked within a soulshard?

And this all happens a week before the Vol’kar’s next assignment out of their house arrest?

:man_facepalming:

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I don’t have a whole lot to type - I’ll give an official update in a day or two, but I do just want to say that 8.2 is giving a lot of life back to the guild! Especially on the RP-PvP front.

Tonight we just swung a losing struggle during a Battle for Nazjatar. The Horde was down by 600 points, but we commit to guerrilla tactics and swung it back around for Horde domination. It was awesome and we had a ton of fun! Afterwards, we ended up roleplaying in War Mode with a few other friendly guilds at New Home.

It’s been a really tough expansion - but those moments aren’t occasions you can sit down and plan for. It just happens organically. This guild holds a torch in light of a super crappy expansion - but we can still have fun and make memories. I love you all very much. :heart:

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prepares HoI4 Civil War declaration sfx for impending Horde ideological split coming to a head

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The self-caused “house arrest” (dubbed by the Sergeant corps) of the Vol’kar Legion ended as quickly as it began. The misbegotten adventures of those being put under forced garrisoning duty reminded them of days of not so far ago - Dark Rangers lurked around every corner, marking them for every infraction and possible move. The abyssal black colors of the Banshee Queen’s cohort became syncopated with the word ‘anxiety’ more than punishment, as no Legionnaire felt truly threatened- but they knew idle threats could turn to action at a moment’s notice. A quick droll beat of the gallow’s hill.

The inaction proved to be a boiling pot. Being inside the walls of Orgrimmar never truly fit the men and women of the Vol’kar - despite their vows to never let it fall, the city certainly hasn’t felt the same in many years. Strangeness and hysteria practically inhabited itself in the middle of the streets while seedy gangs performed their dark roles in the shadows. While there has never been written laws within the city, scufflings and violence led the High Warlord to question if these gangs needed to be hunted down.

The next morning after the birth of those thoughts, tragedy struck within the veterancy ranks. Stone Guard Aelsa’Mori Mystfire passed on in her sleep on the 20th of June. She entered her bunk never to wake. Blood Guard Essalie Westcrown meticulously attempted to keep her going long into the night, yet it simply wasn’t meant to be. The suddenness of this death left sorrow to fester within the hearts and minds of many. A sudden and heavy blow to morale hadn’t been experienced in a very long time. Sure, they thought, they had prepared to find themselves or their brothers-and-sisters-in-arms dead on any number of battlefield. While there is no true ‘blaze of glory’, a well-fought, well-deserved death awaited them all. Someday. Right?

In truth, as most who do not serve the Horde on it’s battlefields know, death does not come in such dignified manners that often. Most of the time, infection seeps in and eats away at wounds, sowing chaotic and painful ailments that not even the most prestigious of magics could purify.

A pyre was built a week before “the big deployment” for their beloved Stone Guard. On the shores of Duskbreach, Eversong Woods, Aelsa’Mori’s spirit burned free, passing on to the ancestors, free of any burden that she had with us.

“You’ve done much for us, Mystfire. You nurtured when it was needed, provided care to the injured, and remained at the side of those with no chance of recovery. Perhaps now they will return the favor. Aka’magosh, nel-amon, throkon thal’nar. (A blessing on you and yours, loyal one. You will be remembered well.)”

With heavy hearts and the thought of war driving the bodies of Vol’jin’s Children weary, they embarked on the Horde’s most dangerous mission yet.

While reports still come in to the cities now on what may be occurring deep within the South Seas, nobody truly knows what happens beneath the depths. The idea of Sargeras himself stabbing Azeroth still sounds absurd to the swathes of the simple-minded - so the sound of the ocean pausing it’s rapid, tumultuous and awesome powers for the sake of land-dwelling mortals is just as fabricated.

Whatever the case, the Alliance Fleet lay defeated, cast to the wind alongside the Horde. Stranded, displaced, and with no route back home, those routine letters as many wrote only as a “just-in-case” seems the most realistic scenario here.

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Will be submitting my app soon, can’t wait to join the Vol’kar legion!

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Midweek update: Vol’kar is 7/8N first night. Playing Simon Says with Azshara is hard!

Additionally, slowly but surely our shipwrecked compatriots are regrouping. Lots of RP and WPvP goodness in Nazjatar!

Bigger update coming within a few days! Keep being yourselves, beautiful people.

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Smells like sushi.

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Azshara is down!

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/269990447160492044/599814832669327360/unknown.png

Present in the kill, left to right: (I know it’s dark!)

Valdura
Tellun
Me
Neeza
J’ava
Markahn (sitting)
Tools (Tauren)
Ruscion (yellow lights)
Lo’Gar’Nosh (kneeling)
Vathias
Zack (Zandalari, guild friend(
Zisho
Avanoria
Arlette
Talruk
Edero

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dang it Buliss, you woke the old god up!

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Another update: I’m quite late to giving another short and quick IC recap - I’ll likely have more time to do it tomorrow. Just been so dang busy with college. I do have some news to share. We’re in the process of migrating our website to a new platform and completely revamping the content. Streamlining everything and addressing a number of suggestions & criticisms.

On the OOC content front: we went back in time 10 years ago to kill Yogg-Saron. Again. Lots of bugs, but lots of fun.

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/269990447160492044/601979820657737728/WoWScrnShot_071919_233214.jpg “I call it Spider Prime” - Krump

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/269990447160492044/601993494852272129/unknown.png

Every person doing their own thing in that second screenshot completely sums up everyone’s mood. Lo’Gar’Nosh completely exasperated, Ed’s body aflame as he d/c’s for the 20th time, and Tellun disassociating as he hearths.