You deleted your post, but it lives on in my heart.
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I was auto-modded in my own thread? Hello?
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Wait, are you leading a guild now?
Not really, no.
Grats, friends!
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Centaur, centaur, and more centaur. Also cultists in Kul Tiras. Still active and strong.
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I appreciate your use of the Oxford comma.
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Have you heard they want to kill it? As well as the possessive apostrophe? Such as “This is Chris’.” Ridiculous.
It’s not that they want to kill the Oxford comma or the possessive apostrophe. They just want to include a little micro transaction every time you want to use one. Not a big deal, really. Will cost you less than a cup of coffee.
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The academics deserve that money for their work. Dictionaries are a one time payment, how else will they cover the costs of continued development?
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Who is ‘they’?
Academics.
Once more the War with the Khan shall escalate.
And we shall have… no peace.
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Four-day weekend? Four days of non-stop RP. I should be sleeping, but roleplay. ¯_(ツ)_/¯
(posted on wrong character derp)
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With the Battle of the Twin Colossals in Feralas, One of the Khans under Batu Khan, the leader of the Gelkis invades, Ganzor Khan, lies dead with his warband.
Victory for the Vol’kar. Glory to Vol’jin.
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Love the premise here. Are you still looking for warriors for your ranks?
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Recruitment is still open. I have received your letter, I have just been exceptionally busy. We’ll help you put as quickly as we are able.
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The Vol’kar is playing outside today in honor of Blizzard-Nickelodeon’s Day of Play. ||multiple day maintenance||
In the dead of night, I come with updates.
Across the sea in barren lands with black skies, a great battle beneath the earth erupts. While coalition members search for their nerves in tomes, hymnals, prayer, and assuages of strategy, the Horde fought for control of Desolace.
For ten bloody months, the Khanate of the Five Tribes, led by the vicious Batu Khan, Khan of Khans, perpetrated the most horrific crimes against nature the Vol’kar had witnessed since the Darkspear Rebellion.
Outnumbered, the Vol’kar suffered great loss after loss- the Horde settlement of Una’me wholly obliterated, with its citizens sacrificed in the Zaetaeri rituals in the caverns of Maraudon.
Rumor spreads like water downhill in coalition camps and throughout the ranks. A story not unlike the tales of Old in the East. The High Warlord had recalled all able-troop 'sides those posted in the kingdoms. A tale of a great bear who sunk its teeth into the hide of horsemen, only the taste of blood threw the great bear into such a frenzy he drew the blood of his own kin.
The great bear tore the head of Mandakhi Khan from her very shoulders before bolting into the woods, never to be seen again. Ganzor Khan, of Gelkis, slew the wolf made of lightning. The wolf’s friend, a hawk with metal for talons, tore open his throat and took for herself Ganzor’s spear - spoils of war.
Batu Khan, Khan of Khans, retreated for Maraudon. At the altar of his ancient grandfather, he sought absolution for his people. He struck plan to use his ancient grandfather’s old architecture of Maraudon - the secrets of his ancient grandmother, Princess Theradras. Unknown to him, a rat wired the caverns to collapse.
A worg approached Maraudon. Several fangs missing from its gorey maw, blood dripping from its chops. Those who witnessed it say the battle lasted for nearly twenty hours. Some even say the worg-with-bloodied-mouth slew Batu Khan himself before presenting it to the High Warlord.
Cryptic as the message is, the Saga of Seven Khans is over. Desolace is free, and the five tribes are culled. The Magram suffering the most vicious of these culls.
Many Vol’kar troops recalled within the past three weeks would be reallocated back to the coalition throughout the day.
[Credit to our very own Luna Duskweaver for creating this medal.]
“The Saga of Seven Khans” is over. Desolace once more lies within Orgrimmar’s control.
The Vol’kar Legion will acknowledge the timeskip tomorrow, but all of us will be acknowledging it differently in private. We’ll all be on the same page soon.
We’re done with campaigns 'til Dragonflight. Can’t wait to experience another expansion with this guild full of amazing people. 
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Hello all. We have developed quite a rigorous system for how we are handling the timeskip. We have figured at this time its very difficult for new members to get involved. We will be temporarily closing recruitment while we catalogue our stories and wait for everyone’s timelines to get back in order.
However, I will be uploading all necessary documents very shortly (tomorrow at the latest) for anyone wishing for an idea how to handle the timeskip for their own guilds. Or those that just read along.
For those still wanting to join the guild but are disappointed by this, we will open recruitment on the Thursday following Dracthyr being launched. (Two days after Dracthyr are released). By then we will accept our timeline as-is, while some will only acknowledge it on January 1st.
I will not prevent any guild member from interacting however they want in their own personal roleplay, however. 
Have a good Sunday, everyone.
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Weeks after the reclamation of Desolace, life fell through the cracks. The children of Vol’jin continued on as they were - their duties becoming less about intensive combat, and more about drills. Day in, day out, the monotony of service outshined the glory of warfare. A long, hard, well-fought victory brought with it a boon. The spoils of war. Weapons, promises of land, betrothal between houses,
Peace.
Peace has come, at last. Cool, pale arms slid over Jan-Mak’s midsection and held him tight. Translucent skin that shone like the moon, a pale beauty that glowed against him. She rested her spectral head upon his shoulder, staring out the window with him. You may rest.
It was Honorfall. Overlooking the massive courtyard, he could see the faceless sergeants and supervisors that made sure the Reavers knew where they were going. Soldiers being disciplined, trained, sparring - in his younger days, he would’ve felt some pride for the craft of warfare.
Mother Orgrimmar had just earned a new title. Greatmother.
Now, he feels pride for what he has built. From birth, Tsu’lay was a debted troll. Forever in service to those who gave for his success. His debt nullified, his Horde protected, his family nourished, safe. Strong.
. . .
Denial. It hurts. To walk this path, to watch the stones turn to dirt. To watch grass reclaim the walkway. To see as tall pines and harrowing, thorny hedges obscure your vision. It hurts, he whispers, turning his head to the left- catching Zali’ja’s eye.
I know. The kiss upon his cheek almost felt real. I must go soon.
Please don’t, he knew how foolish it was to plead.
I must. A fresh, warm stream tapered from his eyes to the corner of his mouth.
I miss you.
Searing pain rushed across his cheek, as if someone held a candle close to his cheekbones. Zali’ja pressed her lips to him, her form withering into nothingness. Spectral whisps cloaked Jan-Mak before dissipating in a gust of wind.
And there he was. Alone.
The troll allowed himself a few moments to pity himself. His father’s words stung him. His lips tightened and his jaw set. He pulled himself from the window and closed the urn- tucking it beneath his arm. Heavy footsteps creaked throughout a dark hallway as the High Warlord secluded himself to his stationary. Many letters will be sent this day.
A mass-produced letter quickly circulates Honorfall before spreading to the Reaver’s Repose. Before they can realize it, all standing forces have received this letter.
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