1
Off Topic / Re: Art Section and creations!
« on: January 05, 2017, 11:33:35 PM »
So Nosh challenged me to make a shitty 10 minute drawing in MS paint. BEHOLD ... an attachment.
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2
Game Related / Re: Reasons of absence
« on: October 16, 2016, 11:33:59 PM »
I am not available on Tuesday and Thursday nights and no-one seems to be around for random RP. Phasing does not seem to affect central hubs like Thunder totem so I suppose we can use that, or perhaps looking at changing event days.
I've had a few comments from newbloods say they didn't feel welcome, too, so I'm not sure what's happening there.
I've had a few comments from newbloods say they didn't feel welcome, too, so I'm not sure what's happening there.
4
Game Related / Re: Character Self view and view of others
« on: December 04, 2015, 10:00:05 PM »
I'm probably going to spell everyone's names wrong
Siyah, irksome fortune teller of no Use or comprehension
Self View:
The Siyah'Gosh knows truly what is in his Den and Heart, and is yet, perchance, forever that. Great enough for wisdom, and in that; a paradox. How can a tree grow when the axeman takes the greatest amongst its kin? A gilded cage is still a cage, and even the lightest of chains burn harsher than any fire.
Instead, I shall keep my eyes to The Star, and through providence, the leopard may well change his spots.
There are of course, more of note, met throughout my years'-time:
So why not list in amatuer verse, in broken pace and rhyme.
So I say, no in true order or sense of beat;
Everyone I named in winter orthe summer's heat:
But this truly means little, and yes there's more,
For in truth, my heart needs stricter lore,
Of the names of those I see now as kin,
Sticking with me, in goodness and sin,
First a guide, so black and greedy,
Yet with patience and sacrifice - shelters the needy,
Second a sage, blessed with guile
Third a brother, for making me smile
Yet above all of these, in heaven and earth,
The One that gives the truest worth,
Who came to me, singing so sweetly,
Who stole my heart ever so neatly,
What manner of beast could ever it be?
To soothe a creature as dread as me?
Just a single thing, small an fey,
I'll state her form once, so listen and pray,
One small thing, truth in flat.
Siyah, irksome fortune teller of no Use or comprehension
Self View:
The Siyah'Gosh knows truly what is in his Den and Heart, and is yet, perchance, forever that. Great enough for wisdom, and in that; a paradox. How can a tree grow when the axeman takes the greatest amongst its kin? A gilded cage is still a cage, and even the lightest of chains burn harsher than any fire.
Instead, I shall keep my eyes to The Star, and through providence, the leopard may well change his spots.
Spoiler: Vanara Ashveil • show
Spoiler: Srelok • show
Spoiler: Kyrazha • show
Spoiler: Trakmar • show
Spoiler: Kozgugore • show
Spoiler: Sadok • show
Spoiler: Arkail • show
Spoiler: Umaua • show
Spoiler: Shasroshan • show
Spoiler: Threknal. Or Threkna. Stop having so many similar names, you lot! Trakmar's alt thing. • show
Spoiler: Therak • show
Spoiler: Mok'thar • show
Spoiler: Mozrogg • show
Spoiler: Gridish • show
Spoiler: Lofty • show
Spoiler: Krogon • show
Spoiler: Makaroth • show
There are of course, more of note, met throughout my years'-time:
So why not list in amatuer verse, in broken pace and rhyme.
So I say, no in true order or sense of beat;
Everyone I named in winter orthe summer's heat:
Spoiler: Kogra • show
Spoiler: Rhonya • show
Spoiler: Kargnar • show
Spoiler: Caruk • show
Spoiler: Groshnokk • show
Spoiler: Nosh'marak' • show
Spoiler: Lo'gush • show
Spoiler: Baji • show
Spoiler: Rikclar • show
Spoiler: Arnhuum • show
Spoiler: Painted Skulls Trolls • show
Spoiler: Our Forsaken Hosts • show
But this truly means little, and yes there's more,
For in truth, my heart needs stricter lore,
Of the names of those I see now as kin,
Sticking with me, in goodness and sin,
First a guide, so black and greedy,
Yet with patience and sacrifice - shelters the needy,
Second a sage, blessed with guile
Third a brother, for making me smile
Yet above all of these, in heaven and earth,
The One that gives the truest worth,
Who came to me, singing so sweetly,
Who stole my heart ever so neatly,
What manner of beast could ever it be?
To soothe a creature as dread as me?
Just a single thing, small an fey,
I'll state her form once, so listen and pray,
One small thing, truth in flat.
• hide'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = 'Spoiler: 
• show'; }" />Spoiler: • show
• show'; }" />Spoiler: • show5
Game Related / Re: A Fond Farewell
« on: December 04, 2015, 08:06:33 PM »
Haven't you done this twice already Akesha? 
See you then! Were were always Karak's #3 favourite female leader!!!
See you then! Were were always Karak's #3 favourite female leader!!!
6
Game Related / Re: Suggestions and Feedback
« on: December 04, 2015, 08:04:47 PM »
I liek this quest chain, actually. BUT THAT'S NOT CRITICISM YOU CAN USE SO LET'S GET MEAN.
While I agree in context, I think this can very easily be addressed IC by forcing a few of the leaders/officers into mind control, thus giving people a reason to actually stay. How you do this without being railroady though, I cannot say as obviously, and the rule of tabletop games is "If you plan for A, B and C, the player will do '7'" so people will always want to go do something else based on what their character thinks.
I also love them weather updates, however I think there needs to be a broader account taken into those in which weather and supplies don't count, i.e. deathwalkers and mages [Pff, who needs to hunt? /conjure food]. Other classes, such as shamans and hunter would likewise be less in danger. I fully realise I'm cheesing it by going 'lolmagic' in this instance but the point of a career mage or death knight is that is basically the point of your class. Siyah's is IC a 'support' caster so can quite happily fudge most of the environmental effects himself and have a valid IC to do so that isn't god-mode mary sueism. (or at least, I hope). Now obviously I'm not saying that survival aspects are trivial, but it should be worth highlighting that WoW is a high fantasy world, many members of the tribe have skills or abilities that can easily overcome most obstacles. A deathknight could laugh at the storm. The hunter can provide for the tribe himself. The shaman can plea to the weather for respite. The mage and warlock are nothing if not versatile. Even at our most mundane we are Player Characters and thus have far more agency than a 'real world' person in a similar situation.
Again how to 'solve' this without railroading is... probably something that needs to be disccused with a player directly, which would be a mammoth task in itself. I also realise I say all this while playing a bishonen speshul snowflake freak with undefined powers who's prime directive is to speak in obscure occult and folklore references so how I approach a situation IC is not going to be the same as one of the muggles of the tribe.
I also really like /roll events or events with a genuine 'failure' or 'danger' state. How one fails at a task is just as valid, if not more so than vitory, a way for character development. [As anyone who's taken one of Siyah's cards can probably say
]. The issue we've had so far with these is that a lot of people turn up which can really bog people down. Don't use bloodied blades though, golly. The generic /roll 40+ to succeed, 'take as much damage as you want' hosted by a party DM works really, really well and allows players to do what their character would do - i.e. having played support casters for two years now with both Siyah and Nem it's very hard to do anything but attack (can't barrier? Can't slow or debuff?) as it's never taken into account in bloodied blades and impossible to arbitrate properly in large events.
Heres what I don't like: Why on earth are we so driven to take out the source of these whispers when it's clear that the further away we are - We wont hear them. We're struggling for food and supplies. We're overtired, struggling to sleep and frankly in some of the worst conditions we will ever face and we're delving into Ulduar and the surrounding areas to stamp out whatever source is offering these whispers, which in real terms is going to be a being of some formidable power if im perfectly honest. It makes such little sense for a Tribe that I consider to be quite logical in it's actions. We could move out, get our bearings. Find some maps from a nearby town in Grizzly/Howling Fjord or get some local intel. Recharge up and then head back in for the final confrontation; Yet we're needlessly I feel trying to struggle against a foe we could easily come back to and take out when we're in a better place. It feels strange, and Makaroth shared the same view; We never heard any whispers before we got here why don't we just leave instead of taking the fight when the odds are stacked against us? I've deliberately stopped mentioning it IC'ly because I feel all it will do is create more tension without changing anything - As I can't expect the plot to just get dropped and be done with it; Thats not fair on anyone at all, mostly the guys involved creating this plot.
While I agree in context, I think this can very easily be addressed IC by forcing a few of the leaders/officers into mind control, thus giving people a reason to actually stay. How you do this without being railroady though, I cannot say as obviously, and the rule of tabletop games is "If you plan for A, B and C, the player will do '7'" so people will always want to go do something else based on what their character thinks.
I also love them weather updates, however I think there needs to be a broader account taken into those in which weather and supplies don't count, i.e. deathwalkers and mages [Pff, who needs to hunt? /conjure food]. Other classes, such as shamans and hunter would likewise be less in danger. I fully realise I'm cheesing it by going 'lolmagic' in this instance but the point of a career mage or death knight is that is basically the point of your class. Siyah's is IC a 'support' caster so can quite happily fudge most of the environmental effects himself and have a valid IC to do so that isn't god-mode mary sueism. (or at least, I hope). Now obviously I'm not saying that survival aspects are trivial, but it should be worth highlighting that WoW is a high fantasy world, many members of the tribe have skills or abilities that can easily overcome most obstacles. A deathknight could laugh at the storm. The hunter can provide for the tribe himself. The shaman can plea to the weather for respite. The mage and warlock are nothing if not versatile. Even at our most mundane we are Player Characters and thus have far more agency than a 'real world' person in a similar situation.
Again how to 'solve' this without railroading is... probably something that needs to be disccused with a player directly, which would be a mammoth task in itself. I also realise I say all this while playing a bishonen speshul snowflake freak with undefined powers who's prime directive is to speak in obscure occult and folklore references so how I approach a situation IC is not going to be the same as one of the muggles of the tribe.
I also really like /roll events or events with a genuine 'failure' or 'danger' state. How one fails at a task is just as valid, if not more so than vitory, a way for character development. [As anyone who's taken one of Siyah's cards can probably say
]. The issue we've had so far with these is that a lot of people turn up which can really bog people down. Don't use bloodied blades though, golly. The generic /roll 40+ to succeed, 'take as much damage as you want' hosted by a party DM works really, really well and allows players to do what their character would do - i.e. having played support casters for two years now with both Siyah and Nem it's very hard to do anything but attack (can't barrier? Can't slow or debuff?) as it's never taken into account in bloodied blades and impossible to arbitrate properly in large events.
7
Event Planning / Re: Storm Peaks Plot - Environmental information
« on: November 18, 2015, 11:40:28 PM »
Note for the Wreckage: As of Wednesday, Siyah has attempted various low level enchants on the wreckage, keeping it warm and dry and sheltering those within.
This will persist as long as he is Alive. And as long as the DM wishes it, obviously.
This will persist as long as he is Alive. And as long as the DM wishes it, obviously.
8
Game Related / Re: Suggestions and Feedback
« on: October 21, 2015, 09:29:07 AM »
Does it have to be Tuesdays? I've been having trouble attending this day for the past year and probably will continue to do so for the next academic year!
My concern is, narrative-wise, you risk drawinig out the plot for too long. You occasinally pull on the suspension of disbelief when your Arc Villian escapes/delays for another week, particularly when the more pro-active personalities of the tribe have a bone to pick with them. The recent examples on Draenor is something I had with Siyah; cornering the villian (Akesh/Rakosh/whoeever) who suddenly pops a shield and teleports away because the plot isn't due to end for another fortnight whereas the casters in the party 'should' be able to prevent him from doing that (for example). Particualrly if you have a vengeful or skilled character who would naturally go down and slaughter the villian mid-monologue; it occasioanlly feels like player agency is taking a sideline. Switching to two days a week is fine in practice, just be wary it doesn't extend anything more than it should. Lengthy campaigns are again, fine, but if there are players who are missing out on the occasional day you risk alienating them and switching to two days only increases this risk. Perhaps having a series of 'villians of the week' that peice together the overall plot would be better?
Bear in mind I come from a tabletop roleplay background that is very heavily narrative focused and complain about everything anyway so I'm probbaly talking nonsense. This isn't to say I'm -opposed- to this sort of thing for any reason (Hell Siyah now pathologically hates warlocks obbsesses over breaking wards because of it now, which is lovely character development).
My concern is, narrative-wise, you risk drawinig out the plot for too long. You occasinally pull on the suspension of disbelief when your Arc Villian escapes/delays for another week, particularly when the more pro-active personalities of the tribe have a bone to pick with them. The recent examples on Draenor is something I had with Siyah; cornering the villian (Akesh/Rakosh/whoeever) who suddenly pops a shield and teleports away because the plot isn't due to end for another fortnight whereas the casters in the party 'should' be able to prevent him from doing that (for example). Particualrly if you have a vengeful or skilled character who would naturally go down and slaughter the villian mid-monologue; it occasioanlly feels like player agency is taking a sideline. Switching to two days a week is fine in practice, just be wary it doesn't extend anything more than it should. Lengthy campaigns are again, fine, but if there are players who are missing out on the occasional day you risk alienating them and switching to two days only increases this risk. Perhaps having a series of 'villians of the week' that peice together the overall plot would be better?
Bear in mind I come from a tabletop roleplay background that is very heavily narrative focused and complain about everything anyway so I'm probbaly talking nonsense. This isn't to say I'm -opposed- to this sort of thing for any reason (Hell Siyah now pathologically hates warlocks obbsesses over breaking wards because of it now, which is lovely character development).
9
The Campfire / Re: Jolly Bedtime Stories with Siyah-Gosh
« on: August 25, 2015, 01:09:52 AM »
And So She Did
Once upon a time a mother-coyote was was walking along a lakeside, carrying a kill.
“I can't be bothered dragging all this back.” she said, dropping the carcass at the foot of a tree, and gulping down a full flaskful of firewater. “I'll stick this here so I know where to find it and bring my cub to this spot instead!”.
And so she did.
This, as it turned out, was a fairly unwise decision, for in the tree watching the scene was a mother-cat and her kitten. Looking for an easy meal, she crept up upon the carcass, and seeing it was fresh, carried it up to the tree.
A little while later, the coyote returned with her cub in tow. Looking around, she was dismayed to find her kill no where to be seen. At this her cub began to cry. “Mother!” he wept, “I'm hungry! Why did you bring me all the way out here.”
“Shut up.” said the Mother-coyote, swigging from her flask of Firewater. “Mother's thinking.”
“There's nothing here.” came the response, meekly.
“I said Shaddup!” snapped the mother, “If I wanted your opinion I'd give it to you.”. At this she threw the empty bottle, it bouncing off the cub's head with a dull 'thump'.
She staggered over to the lake. “Mebbe it fell in?”. She peered over into the sparkling blew waters of the lake and sure enough, saw the meat in the water. Wobbling, she put her paw into the water, so that she may collect her food. Yet, when she put it in she returned with nothing.
“But mother...” said her son, meekly, instead seeing the food hanging on the tree.
“Look if I have to hear from you again, I'll sell your pelt to the local hunters like I did your brothers!”
With this, the pup cowered in the grass and fell silent. His mother, not seeing that her 'food' was a mere reflection, reached again into the water to collect it. Again, she came up with nothing. “Must be deeper than I thought.” she said. “I'll jump in and swim down to get it.”.
And so she did.
Time passed.
Ten minutes later, the cub deared to look up again. Not seeing his mother anywhere, he began to cry. “Mother! Where did you go?”. He looked upon the oncoming twilight of the horizon and felt a shiver down his spine, his fur standing on end. “It'll be dark soon, and the hunters will be out! Where are you?”.
There was no answer again and the lakeside was silent save for the pup's lonesome howling. A moment later, there was a snap of a twig above him. The cub jumped, hair bristling and looked up at the tree and beheld to bright eyes staring down at him. The pup was terrified, and cowered in the grass.
“Don't worry, little pup.” said eye's owners. “I won't hurt you.”
“Have you seen my mother?” he replied with a whimper.
There was a long, heavy silence, followed by an awkward cough. “Yes...” said the voice. The eyes flickered to the lake and back to the cub. “Er... she's... gone to meet someone.”
“Wh-who?” wimpered the pup.
The eyes thought for a moment. “Some try to hide, some try to cheat, but time will show, you'll always will meet. Try as you might, to guess his name, I promise you’ll know, when you he'll claim”
The pup gave a blank look. That wasn't really an answer. He blinked for a moment and instead asked in befuddlement, “W-when will she be back?” he cried.
There was another awkward silence. “Listen, let's not think about her right now.”. The voice smiled, and in the dark of the tree the cub saw a row of shining teeth.
“Please don't eat me!” cried the pup.
“Dear pup, don't be afraid. I won't hurt you!”. The creature leant forward and revealed herself as a great lynx, wearing the skin of a bear, the feathers of an eagle and amulets of gazelle bone. “You poor thing. You are all alone.” With a flick of one feather, she became a great eagle and swooped down, sitting herself next to the cub, before shifting back and peering at him with her bright yellow eyes.
The pup was understandably terrified at such profane use of magic and stood stock still, look of utmost terror plastered on his face. The cat placed a paw on his shoulder, giving another look at the lake. “Er... I think, my sweet dear cub, your mother might be... busy for the next... few...er... forevers.” she said, trailing off with another awkward grunt. “But don't worry! I have a nice juicy meal for you in this tree.”. She pointed a claw at the branches where the kill was, with more than an air of guilt.
“But... why would you help me!” he whimpered.
“Because... why, you're so young and innocent! I have a kitten just about your age, and you're all alone!”. At this, the cub noticed a smaller cat clinging ontop the bearskin, black-furred and manic-eyed (as kittens are) and inheriting his mother's distinctive ear-tuffs. It gave a spaced out look at the coyote before losing interest and swatting at a passing fly. “How could I ever let a young thing like you stay all alone, when the night in oncoming and you look so hungry and small.” She patted the cub on the head and brought him close, “Don't worry, little cub, I'll take you in, and a far better mother I'll be than any before. I'll sing to you at night and teach you my craft, to trick another with guile and cleverness, and to steal away the power of the those to which it should not belong. I'll feed you at night and keep you warm, for this is a mother's promise”
And so she did.
Once upon a time a mother-coyote was was walking along a lakeside, carrying a kill.
“I can't be bothered dragging all this back.” she said, dropping the carcass at the foot of a tree, and gulping down a full flaskful of firewater. “I'll stick this here so I know where to find it and bring my cub to this spot instead!”.
And so she did.
This, as it turned out, was a fairly unwise decision, for in the tree watching the scene was a mother-cat and her kitten. Looking for an easy meal, she crept up upon the carcass, and seeing it was fresh, carried it up to the tree.
A little while later, the coyote returned with her cub in tow. Looking around, she was dismayed to find her kill no where to be seen. At this her cub began to cry. “Mother!” he wept, “I'm hungry! Why did you bring me all the way out here.”
“Shut up.” said the Mother-coyote, swigging from her flask of Firewater. “Mother's thinking.”
“There's nothing here.” came the response, meekly.
“I said Shaddup!” snapped the mother, “If I wanted your opinion I'd give it to you.”. At this she threw the empty bottle, it bouncing off the cub's head with a dull 'thump'.
She staggered over to the lake. “Mebbe it fell in?”. She peered over into the sparkling blew waters of the lake and sure enough, saw the meat in the water. Wobbling, she put her paw into the water, so that she may collect her food. Yet, when she put it in she returned with nothing.
“But mother...” said her son, meekly, instead seeing the food hanging on the tree.
“Look if I have to hear from you again, I'll sell your pelt to the local hunters like I did your brothers!”
With this, the pup cowered in the grass and fell silent. His mother, not seeing that her 'food' was a mere reflection, reached again into the water to collect it. Again, she came up with nothing. “Must be deeper than I thought.” she said. “I'll jump in and swim down to get it.”.
And so she did.
Time passed.
Ten minutes later, the cub deared to look up again. Not seeing his mother anywhere, he began to cry. “Mother! Where did you go?”. He looked upon the oncoming twilight of the horizon and felt a shiver down his spine, his fur standing on end. “It'll be dark soon, and the hunters will be out! Where are you?”.
There was no answer again and the lakeside was silent save for the pup's lonesome howling. A moment later, there was a snap of a twig above him. The cub jumped, hair bristling and looked up at the tree and beheld to bright eyes staring down at him. The pup was terrified, and cowered in the grass.
“Don't worry, little pup.” said eye's owners. “I won't hurt you.”
“Have you seen my mother?” he replied with a whimper.
There was a long, heavy silence, followed by an awkward cough. “Yes...” said the voice. The eyes flickered to the lake and back to the cub. “Er... she's... gone to meet someone.”
“Wh-who?” wimpered the pup.
The eyes thought for a moment. “Some try to hide, some try to cheat, but time will show, you'll always will meet. Try as you might, to guess his name, I promise you’ll know, when you he'll claim”
The pup gave a blank look. That wasn't really an answer. He blinked for a moment and instead asked in befuddlement, “W-when will she be back?” he cried.
There was another awkward silence. “Listen, let's not think about her right now.”. The voice smiled, and in the dark of the tree the cub saw a row of shining teeth.
“Please don't eat me!” cried the pup.
“Dear pup, don't be afraid. I won't hurt you!”. The creature leant forward and revealed herself as a great lynx, wearing the skin of a bear, the feathers of an eagle and amulets of gazelle bone. “You poor thing. You are all alone.” With a flick of one feather, she became a great eagle and swooped down, sitting herself next to the cub, before shifting back and peering at him with her bright yellow eyes.
The pup was understandably terrified at such profane use of magic and stood stock still, look of utmost terror plastered on his face. The cat placed a paw on his shoulder, giving another look at the lake. “Er... I think, my sweet dear cub, your mother might be... busy for the next... few...er... forevers.” she said, trailing off with another awkward grunt. “But don't worry! I have a nice juicy meal for you in this tree.”. She pointed a claw at the branches where the kill was, with more than an air of guilt.
“But... why would you help me!” he whimpered.
“Because... why, you're so young and innocent! I have a kitten just about your age, and you're all alone!”. At this, the cub noticed a smaller cat clinging ontop the bearskin, black-furred and manic-eyed (as kittens are) and inheriting his mother's distinctive ear-tuffs. It gave a spaced out look at the coyote before losing interest and swatting at a passing fly. “How could I ever let a young thing like you stay all alone, when the night in oncoming and you look so hungry and small.” She patted the cub on the head and brought him close, “Don't worry, little cub, I'll take you in, and a far better mother I'll be than any before. I'll sing to you at night and teach you my craft, to trick another with guile and cleverness, and to steal away the power of the those to which it should not belong. I'll feed you at night and keep you warm, for this is a mother's promise”
And so she did.
10
The Campfire / Jolly Bedtime Stories with Siyah-Gosh
« on: August 09, 2015, 04:50:01 PM »
Every night Siyah'gosh approaches the fire and sits down, facing the setting sun. It does not matter if there are orcs present or not for every night he repeates the same ritual. He asks those gathered to sit (even when the fire is empty) and requests a story. Sometimes he merely sits in silence, listening to some unfathomable notion or creature perhaps just out of sight, occasionally commentating to whatever spirit or madness he hears in his head. More often than not, he gives a wide smile and in his soft whisper gives tells a story.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
How the Riddling Lynx got her name and her first skin
Once upon a time, a long time ago, a young lynx was walking along a forest path. It was the dead of winter and the snows were falling hard. Back then, the lynx had little fur and instead stalked the deserts and Barrens, but this one, in her wanderlust, had wandered too far north.
The cold winds bit at her skin and she knew she would not survive another night in the freezing climate. It was then she smelt fresh salmon being cooked upon a fire. Hungry and cold, she darted around a snow drift and found a great fat bear, cooking a basket of Salmon. The bear was larger than a house, thick fur and claws like swords. He prodded the fire a few times and then smelt the air.
“I smell a cat!” he roared, “Come out cat, you can't hide from my nose!”
The lynx stalked out of the undergrowth, cowed and afraid. “Please, bear, I am cold and hungry and I may not survive another night. May I sit next to your fire and have a fish?”
The bear snorted in disgust, “Why would I do such a thing? I shall eat all of this and then head back home to sleep away the winter.”
“But bear!” exclaimed the lynx, “I am so very cold and hungry!”
“I am the King of this forest, and all the birds and beasts know not to annoy me, cat, lest I crush their skulls between my paws! These fish are my tribute, and none but I will have them.” The bear then stamped out the fire and took the basket, heading off into the snow.
The lynx shivered and carried on to find shelter. Soon she was lost amidst the snow and dark trees. Now the lynx is a cunning tracker, so she soon enough she found a set of large tracks heading towards the mountains. She followed the tracks and came across the large bear again. He stomped through the icy woods, unbothered by the cold and wind, as his thick fur kept him warm.
She stalked up to the bear and said with a sad, desperate whisper, “Please, bear, I am so very cold, and your fur is so warm and thick. Might I sit on your back for just a short while, so that I may warm my paws?”
The bear snorted, “Why would I let you ride upon me? I am royalty, and as such only royalty may touch my fur, and a curse upon all others! I have warned you once, cat, now begone before your skull is crushed!”. He snapped at the cat, who ran in fright into a nearby bush.
The lynx waited for the bear to leave, watching the silently falling snow. It was then she looked up to see a flock of ravens, chattering amongst themselves and eyeing the cat warily.
“Well, well, well!” said one, a Mother-Raven. “You seem in awful need of help, don't you puss?”. Her sons behind her all cackled and cawed.
“I know what you want, Ravens, you're a messenger-breed, like the vultures and swooping-birds back home. What do you wish to tell me?”
“Oh, nothing, really. I just want to talk...” said the mother-raven, tilting her head. It was then the lynx new she was doomed if she could not act soon, for it is said that ravens can only speak to the dead and dying, indeed this is why even today ravens are seen upon the gibbets and battlefields across Azeroth.
Overcome with fright, the lynx looked to hide, for the cat is a master of stealth.
“Wait a moment...” said the mother-raven, “Today my sons and I do not bring messages to Bwonsamedi or any the spirits of death; my husband, you see, was trapped by the bear. The Tyrant uses him to send messages across the forest! He wishes tribute of fish unless he kill us all, for truly, he is the strongest creature in this forest.”
“But a Raven can fly,” quizzed the lynx, “And you are such a cunning creature, how did your husband managed to be captured so?”
“Ah, you see, he was trapped by oath!” squawked the Raven-mother in distress, “The bear would grant us a morsel of food in this dire winter, and in return we would serve him. But now the Tyrant asks too much, he never shares his food, and he swore he would. He runs my poor husband ragged for nothing! The bear likes to bargain but he never follows through. My poor husband though, is too honourable to merely leave.”
But the lynx, hungry above all, stalked the bear's tracks and came across a large cave. Smelling the bear's scent in the darkness she called out.
“King Bear! King Bear! It is I, the lynx again, please – I am so cold and hungry.”
There was a rumbling from the cave, “The cat again? I offer you nothing!”
“But won't you share sacred hospitality with me? What if I can pay you? A bargain perhaps?”
At this the bear grunted with interest, “Very well cat, what do you offer?”
“A secret of cats. A service of mine, anything, O'please, I starve this night!”
“Very well, come on in... I grant you hospitality in the name of the great primal gods.”
The lynx walked into the dark cave and came across a Raven, locked in a cage and starving. The pitious creature glanced at the lynx and spoke in a hollow tone, “I hope you know what you are doing...”
“Fear not, Raven,” said the lynx with a wink, “I have a plan.”
The lynx trotted into the darkness and came across a great throne of bones; she saw the skulls of stags, and panthers, and hippogriffs. Truly the bear was strong if he could slay such wise, swift and powerful creatures.
“Well then, cat...” said the bear with a wicked grin, “You offered your secrets, first.”
With that the lynx took a slate from the ground and inscribed in runes the secrets of the cat. “With this, great bear, you shall be as mysterious and silent as a cat stalking her prey.”
The bear grinned and accepted the offering. “Very well, little cat, I shall accept this gift. And now your service is required. My coat of fur is heavy and hot, and it makes my sore.”. He shrugged off his great coat of fur and placed it in a neat pile. While unguarded, it never had to be for only royalty could touch the fur, as the bear had described earlier. “Knead my back with your soft-cat paws and make me feel better.”
The lynx, grunting in indignation climbed upon the bear's back and purred into his ear, softly padding at his skin. After the while, the bear was satisfied and commanded the lynx to be off. Yet as she did so she was swiped up and hurled into the back of the cave, unable to escape.
“Foolish cat! Why did you think I was being truthful? You shall have no food and instead serve me forever!”
The lynx, expecting this, was not afraid and instead gave a slight wry smile. “Dear King” she said softly, “you must truly be wise and cunning to have trapped me so. Would you not let me bargain further? Perhaps a contest of wits? A riddle or two? Truly, one as wise and powerful would have no trouble. What say... a riddle for a fish?”
The bear was rightly amused and laughed out loud. “Very well, cat. Go ahead.”
“Four hang, four sprang, two point the way, two to ward off dogs, one dangles after, always rather dirty. What am I?” purred the lynx.
The bear was stumped and could not answer. He lay back on his bed of bones and though. As he did so, the Lynx moved towards his discarded coat of fur and picked it up. She could feel the magic of royalty between her claws and truly, only royalty could touch the thing.
“I cannot answer this riddle.” exclaimed the bear. “But it matters not, for you will have no fishes of mine!”
“Alas!” said the lynx, now hiding in the darkness with the coat by her side. “Truly you are powerful, and you have me at your mercy. Please – would you not consider giving me something warm instead? Again, for a riddle?”
“Very well, you amuse me, cat. Ask again.”
“There is a house. One enters it blind and comes out seeing. What is it?”
Again, the bear was stumped and lay back on hs bed to think. At this the lynx, picked up the coat and stalked back towards the entrance of the den.
“It matters not if I can answer this, for you shall have nothing to warm you! I am the King of this forest, and what I say shall go!”
The lynx passed the raven's cage and winked, as he had been listening to the conversation. She projected her voice to the back of the cave again and said in a wry purr, “Then what of my freedom? Will you give me my freedom for the service I gave? Or perhaps another riddle?”
“Another riddle will do. You enjoy these do you not? You are quite the Riddling Lynx.”
“Yes, I suppose I am.” sniffed the lynx, enjoying the title. “Yet here is one you may not have heard. You are in a dread domain, of which there are but two ways out. Yet one exit leads to death. By these doors there are two guardians, yet one always lies while the other can only speak the truth. What one question can you ask a guardian to find out which door leads to safety?”
The bear snorted I disgust and got up from his bed, peering into the darkness. At this the Lynx donned the bear's coat, so that she was warm and smelled of him. “What riddle is this?” roared the bear, “Why, I would force both guardians to walk through the doors and see which one died!”
“Wrong answer I am afraid” purred the lynx.
“Enough!” yelled the bear, “It matters not. You will get no freedom and serve me forever!” He glared to where he threw the lynx, but found nothing there.
“Oh, what a shame! Truly you must be wise and powerful, if you can breach your promises, both sacred and mundane without a curse from the primal gods! But I think, I have another riddle for you, if you are so wise.” She paused for the moment and watched the bear try and sniff her out, yet all he could smell was his scent. “Dear bear, riddle me this. Where am I?”
The bear raged for a moment, throwing his trophy-bones across his den in anger. “Foolish cat! Did you not remember? You gave me the secret of the cat, and now I know all your tricks! I merely have to read what is written and then I shall know how to find you!”. He glanced down at the slate and upon the magical runes the lynx had written, but instead found only nothing.
“And another riddle, my dearest king; When is a secret not a secret?”
The bear continued to rage, “Liar! Trickster! Riddling Lynx, you give me nothing! Why do you riddle so, when you are so close to death! I shall find you and crush your skull! Then we shall see if your fancy prose avails you anything!”
“A riddle is a lesson, bear, one you could stand to learn.”
“Nonsense!” screamed the bear, anger boiling off him. “Riddles are nonsense! Speaking in metaphor and acting superior when you are misunderstood teaches no one anything. You are nothing but words! Riddles are a false wisdom, an idle game! It is all memory and falsehoods, double meanings and logic even great Mu'sha could not stand! Speak properly you conniving fiend, lest I take your tongue from you.”
“Oh, dear king! Did you not know, that riddles, once solved speak much of both the asker and the answerer? But... is true many riddles require a context, so perhaps I shall answer a simpler one instead. Where, my dear, sweet king, is your coat?”
The bear looked upon he corner of his den and where his once warm and grand coat sat, was but empty air.
“Impossible!” screamed the bear, “my coat was sacred and pure, and only royalty could handle it.”
“Another riddle then for you my bear!” Laughed the lynx, “What does every cat consider herself to be?”
“Enough of your riddles!” said the bear, drawing himself to full height and power. “Thief! Trickster! The forest shall learn of your trickery! Every beast and bird within these woods will be after your head!” With that, he turned to the cage with which the raven was trapped and found it empty. The raven perched atop it instead, glaring at him.
“You shall do no such thing, bear.” said the raven, calmly. “The lynx is gone and you will not find her, for you shall be smelling only yourself, thus your nose will grant you no advantage. Know instead I told the forest of your treachery instead. I am an honourable bird, and have upheld my part of our oath. I conjured this cage with the sacred words I promised to you, so that I may be in your service as you gifted my flock with food and shelter.” He shifted his weight. “Yet you have not done this. I was waiting patiently, and believed my flock to be cared for. I heard nothing form them, yet still I waited in my cage for you, for I so solemnly swore it. Yet today you have showed me you are without honour. Every promise you have made to this Lynx you broke. You did not grant her requests even when you said you would. Did you not know, bear, an oath, a promise, a vow, a bargain, is sacred? Thus my oath to you is broken, and I am no longer caged to your service because you failed to uphold your end of our bargain!”
And with that the raven flew away, out of reach of the raging bear, and told the forests' creatures of the bear's honour-less ways. The bear gave chase, visiting the wolf-packs, the panther-dens, the Owl-nests and Deer-glades of the forest, yet upon seeing the bear, naked and gangly, they merely laughed. “What is a king without a coat?” sang the creatures, in unison.
“Fools! I still have my claws and strength, and I shall crush your skulls!”. Yet without his fur to guard him, the Father-wolf and Matriarch panther of the forest pounced atop him and tore him to pieces for his transgressions.
It was a little while later that the lynx, now wearing the skin of the bear to keep warm, came across a wading bird in a river stream. But by now she was starving and weak with hunger, and could not hunt the creature. The bird instead looked up from it's fishing and saw the bear's coat.
“Oh my!” It cawed, “the bear-king!” and then, for he did not hear the raven's messages, presented the lynx with his finest catch. “Tribute to the bear-king” he said with a bow.
The lynx blinked in confusion and looked at the bird.
The bird, sensing the hesitancy explained, “You are not the King? But you have his coat and smell of his scent. This means you have his strength also, does it not?”
The lynx pondered and did indeed wonder why she had lasted so long without food, and looked upon the bear's coat. She smiled, stood on her hind legs to make herself taller and wrapped the coat closer around herself.
“Yes.” She said. “I suppose it does.”
_____________________________________________________________________________________
How the Riddling Lynx got her name and her first skin
Once upon a time, a long time ago, a young lynx was walking along a forest path. It was the dead of winter and the snows were falling hard. Back then, the lynx had little fur and instead stalked the deserts and Barrens, but this one, in her wanderlust, had wandered too far north.
The cold winds bit at her skin and she knew she would not survive another night in the freezing climate. It was then she smelt fresh salmon being cooked upon a fire. Hungry and cold, she darted around a snow drift and found a great fat bear, cooking a basket of Salmon. The bear was larger than a house, thick fur and claws like swords. He prodded the fire a few times and then smelt the air.
“I smell a cat!” he roared, “Come out cat, you can't hide from my nose!”
The lynx stalked out of the undergrowth, cowed and afraid. “Please, bear, I am cold and hungry and I may not survive another night. May I sit next to your fire and have a fish?”
The bear snorted in disgust, “Why would I do such a thing? I shall eat all of this and then head back home to sleep away the winter.”
“But bear!” exclaimed the lynx, “I am so very cold and hungry!”
“I am the King of this forest, and all the birds and beasts know not to annoy me, cat, lest I crush their skulls between my paws! These fish are my tribute, and none but I will have them.” The bear then stamped out the fire and took the basket, heading off into the snow.
The lynx shivered and carried on to find shelter. Soon she was lost amidst the snow and dark trees. Now the lynx is a cunning tracker, so she soon enough she found a set of large tracks heading towards the mountains. She followed the tracks and came across the large bear again. He stomped through the icy woods, unbothered by the cold and wind, as his thick fur kept him warm.
She stalked up to the bear and said with a sad, desperate whisper, “Please, bear, I am so very cold, and your fur is so warm and thick. Might I sit on your back for just a short while, so that I may warm my paws?”
The bear snorted, “Why would I let you ride upon me? I am royalty, and as such only royalty may touch my fur, and a curse upon all others! I have warned you once, cat, now begone before your skull is crushed!”. He snapped at the cat, who ran in fright into a nearby bush.
The lynx waited for the bear to leave, watching the silently falling snow. It was then she looked up to see a flock of ravens, chattering amongst themselves and eyeing the cat warily.
“Well, well, well!” said one, a Mother-Raven. “You seem in awful need of help, don't you puss?”. Her sons behind her all cackled and cawed.
“I know what you want, Ravens, you're a messenger-breed, like the vultures and swooping-birds back home. What do you wish to tell me?”
“Oh, nothing, really. I just want to talk...” said the mother-raven, tilting her head. It was then the lynx new she was doomed if she could not act soon, for it is said that ravens can only speak to the dead and dying, indeed this is why even today ravens are seen upon the gibbets and battlefields across Azeroth.
Overcome with fright, the lynx looked to hide, for the cat is a master of stealth.
“Wait a moment...” said the mother-raven, “Today my sons and I do not bring messages to Bwonsamedi or any the spirits of death; my husband, you see, was trapped by the bear. The Tyrant uses him to send messages across the forest! He wishes tribute of fish unless he kill us all, for truly, he is the strongest creature in this forest.”
“But a Raven can fly,” quizzed the lynx, “And you are such a cunning creature, how did your husband managed to be captured so?”
“Ah, you see, he was trapped by oath!” squawked the Raven-mother in distress, “The bear would grant us a morsel of food in this dire winter, and in return we would serve him. But now the Tyrant asks too much, he never shares his food, and he swore he would. He runs my poor husband ragged for nothing! The bear likes to bargain but he never follows through. My poor husband though, is too honourable to merely leave.”
But the lynx, hungry above all, stalked the bear's tracks and came across a large cave. Smelling the bear's scent in the darkness she called out.
“King Bear! King Bear! It is I, the lynx again, please – I am so cold and hungry.”
There was a rumbling from the cave, “The cat again? I offer you nothing!”
“But won't you share sacred hospitality with me? What if I can pay you? A bargain perhaps?”
At this the bear grunted with interest, “Very well cat, what do you offer?”
“A secret of cats. A service of mine, anything, O'please, I starve this night!”
“Very well, come on in... I grant you hospitality in the name of the great primal gods.”
The lynx walked into the dark cave and came across a Raven, locked in a cage and starving. The pitious creature glanced at the lynx and spoke in a hollow tone, “I hope you know what you are doing...”
“Fear not, Raven,” said the lynx with a wink, “I have a plan.”
The lynx trotted into the darkness and came across a great throne of bones; she saw the skulls of stags, and panthers, and hippogriffs. Truly the bear was strong if he could slay such wise, swift and powerful creatures.
“Well then, cat...” said the bear with a wicked grin, “You offered your secrets, first.”
With that the lynx took a slate from the ground and inscribed in runes the secrets of the cat. “With this, great bear, you shall be as mysterious and silent as a cat stalking her prey.”
The bear grinned and accepted the offering. “Very well, little cat, I shall accept this gift. And now your service is required. My coat of fur is heavy and hot, and it makes my sore.”. He shrugged off his great coat of fur and placed it in a neat pile. While unguarded, it never had to be for only royalty could touch the fur, as the bear had described earlier. “Knead my back with your soft-cat paws and make me feel better.”
The lynx, grunting in indignation climbed upon the bear's back and purred into his ear, softly padding at his skin. After the while, the bear was satisfied and commanded the lynx to be off. Yet as she did so she was swiped up and hurled into the back of the cave, unable to escape.
“Foolish cat! Why did you think I was being truthful? You shall have no food and instead serve me forever!”
The lynx, expecting this, was not afraid and instead gave a slight wry smile. “Dear King” she said softly, “you must truly be wise and cunning to have trapped me so. Would you not let me bargain further? Perhaps a contest of wits? A riddle or two? Truly, one as wise and powerful would have no trouble. What say... a riddle for a fish?”
The bear was rightly amused and laughed out loud. “Very well, cat. Go ahead.”
“Four hang, four sprang, two point the way, two to ward off dogs, one dangles after, always rather dirty. What am I?” purred the lynx.
The bear was stumped and could not answer. He lay back on his bed of bones and though. As he did so, the Lynx moved towards his discarded coat of fur and picked it up. She could feel the magic of royalty between her claws and truly, only royalty could touch the thing.
“I cannot answer this riddle.” exclaimed the bear. “But it matters not, for you will have no fishes of mine!”
“Alas!” said the lynx, now hiding in the darkness with the coat by her side. “Truly you are powerful, and you have me at your mercy. Please – would you not consider giving me something warm instead? Again, for a riddle?”
“Very well, you amuse me, cat. Ask again.”
“There is a house. One enters it blind and comes out seeing. What is it?”
Again, the bear was stumped and lay back on hs bed to think. At this the lynx, picked up the coat and stalked back towards the entrance of the den.
“It matters not if I can answer this, for you shall have nothing to warm you! I am the King of this forest, and what I say shall go!”
The lynx passed the raven's cage and winked, as he had been listening to the conversation. She projected her voice to the back of the cave again and said in a wry purr, “Then what of my freedom? Will you give me my freedom for the service I gave? Or perhaps another riddle?”
“Another riddle will do. You enjoy these do you not? You are quite the Riddling Lynx.”
“Yes, I suppose I am.” sniffed the lynx, enjoying the title. “Yet here is one you may not have heard. You are in a dread domain, of which there are but two ways out. Yet one exit leads to death. By these doors there are two guardians, yet one always lies while the other can only speak the truth. What one question can you ask a guardian to find out which door leads to safety?”
The bear snorted I disgust and got up from his bed, peering into the darkness. At this the Lynx donned the bear's coat, so that she was warm and smelled of him. “What riddle is this?” roared the bear, “Why, I would force both guardians to walk through the doors and see which one died!”
“Wrong answer I am afraid” purred the lynx.
“Enough!” yelled the bear, “It matters not. You will get no freedom and serve me forever!” He glared to where he threw the lynx, but found nothing there.
“Oh, what a shame! Truly you must be wise and powerful, if you can breach your promises, both sacred and mundane without a curse from the primal gods! But I think, I have another riddle for you, if you are so wise.” She paused for the moment and watched the bear try and sniff her out, yet all he could smell was his scent. “Dear bear, riddle me this. Where am I?”
The bear raged for a moment, throwing his trophy-bones across his den in anger. “Foolish cat! Did you not remember? You gave me the secret of the cat, and now I know all your tricks! I merely have to read what is written and then I shall know how to find you!”. He glanced down at the slate and upon the magical runes the lynx had written, but instead found only nothing.
“And another riddle, my dearest king; When is a secret not a secret?”
The bear continued to rage, “Liar! Trickster! Riddling Lynx, you give me nothing! Why do you riddle so, when you are so close to death! I shall find you and crush your skull! Then we shall see if your fancy prose avails you anything!”
“A riddle is a lesson, bear, one you could stand to learn.”
“Nonsense!” screamed the bear, anger boiling off him. “Riddles are nonsense! Speaking in metaphor and acting superior when you are misunderstood teaches no one anything. You are nothing but words! Riddles are a false wisdom, an idle game! It is all memory and falsehoods, double meanings and logic even great Mu'sha could not stand! Speak properly you conniving fiend, lest I take your tongue from you.”
“Oh, dear king! Did you not know, that riddles, once solved speak much of both the asker and the answerer? But... is true many riddles require a context, so perhaps I shall answer a simpler one instead. Where, my dear, sweet king, is your coat?”
The bear looked upon he corner of his den and where his once warm and grand coat sat, was but empty air.
“Impossible!” screamed the bear, “my coat was sacred and pure, and only royalty could handle it.”
“Another riddle then for you my bear!” Laughed the lynx, “What does every cat consider herself to be?”
“Enough of your riddles!” said the bear, drawing himself to full height and power. “Thief! Trickster! The forest shall learn of your trickery! Every beast and bird within these woods will be after your head!” With that, he turned to the cage with which the raven was trapped and found it empty. The raven perched atop it instead, glaring at him.
“You shall do no such thing, bear.” said the raven, calmly. “The lynx is gone and you will not find her, for you shall be smelling only yourself, thus your nose will grant you no advantage. Know instead I told the forest of your treachery instead. I am an honourable bird, and have upheld my part of our oath. I conjured this cage with the sacred words I promised to you, so that I may be in your service as you gifted my flock with food and shelter.” He shifted his weight. “Yet you have not done this. I was waiting patiently, and believed my flock to be cared for. I heard nothing form them, yet still I waited in my cage for you, for I so solemnly swore it. Yet today you have showed me you are without honour. Every promise you have made to this Lynx you broke. You did not grant her requests even when you said you would. Did you not know, bear, an oath, a promise, a vow, a bargain, is sacred? Thus my oath to you is broken, and I am no longer caged to your service because you failed to uphold your end of our bargain!”
And with that the raven flew away, out of reach of the raging bear, and told the forests' creatures of the bear's honour-less ways. The bear gave chase, visiting the wolf-packs, the panther-dens, the Owl-nests and Deer-glades of the forest, yet upon seeing the bear, naked and gangly, they merely laughed. “What is a king without a coat?” sang the creatures, in unison.
“Fools! I still have my claws and strength, and I shall crush your skulls!”. Yet without his fur to guard him, the Father-wolf and Matriarch panther of the forest pounced atop him and tore him to pieces for his transgressions.
It was a little while later that the lynx, now wearing the skin of the bear to keep warm, came across a wading bird in a river stream. But by now she was starving and weak with hunger, and could not hunt the creature. The bird instead looked up from it's fishing and saw the bear's coat.
“Oh my!” It cawed, “the bear-king!” and then, for he did not hear the raven's messages, presented the lynx with his finest catch. “Tribute to the bear-king” he said with a bow.
The lynx blinked in confusion and looked at the bird.
The bird, sensing the hesitancy explained, “You are not the King? But you have his coat and smell of his scent. This means you have his strength also, does it not?”
The lynx pondered and did indeed wonder why she had lasted so long without food, and looked upon the bear's coat. She smiled, stood on her hind legs to make herself taller and wrapped the coat closer around herself.
“Yes.” She said. “I suppose it does.”
12
Game Related / Re: Blue Sky: Argent Dawn Transfer
« on: May 05, 2015, 08:07:47 PM »
I am vehemently against this.
This will be a massive inconvenience to all my characters, particulalrly as all barring karak are heavily invested in other guilds. Yes, I can use RealID, providing it actually -works- but this is adding a layer of inconvenience where there should not be any; not being able to talk to people in /redorc (etc.) when I'm levelling Naeemh, say, would kill the experience; and not bumping into random RP with defias characters kills Siyah's storyline altogether.
To make matters worse the overwhelming majority of guilds who have transfered have, as far as my personal experiences go, failed and collapsed within months. Not only does this corrupt the core of the guild between those wishing to stay or not, causing a terrible amount of needless drama, but it alienates a great number of casual players who may not want to make the move, or cannot afford to, or are unaware of the move yet still want to play; thus trashing the community atmosphere. It establishes a barrier -either in money or convenience- that turns away a great many people. I say this having seen and been a aprt of a -great many- dying guilds in the past. To make matters worse, neither the blades nor my characters have any history on AD apart from what seems to me as blatant conjecture. I cannot comment on what the AD community is like, as I have no experience of it so I see this as more a problem of sheer logistics.
What a move essentially amounts to is you forcing me to chose between two sets fo social groups, neither of which I want to abandon. Karak cannot funtion without the blades; Siyah would have to be reset entirely because a large amount of his development is coming from the Painted skulls and Pandaren (thus a lot of what he would say and hint at would be meaningless as there would be no way of ever 'solving the riddle' as it were), and Naeemh is so beloved by the dawnchasers it would be wrong to move her. Should a move actually happen it is most likely I would give on playing WoW altogether as the sheer guilt of leaving one side out would ruin the fun of the game.
At the risk of sounding shrill and alarmist, I cannot stress what a bad idea this would be.
This will be a massive inconvenience to all my characters, particulalrly as all barring karak are heavily invested in other guilds. Yes, I can use RealID, providing it actually -works- but this is adding a layer of inconvenience where there should not be any; not being able to talk to people in /redorc (etc.) when I'm levelling Naeemh, say, would kill the experience; and not bumping into random RP with defias characters kills Siyah's storyline altogether.
To make matters worse the overwhelming majority of guilds who have transfered have, as far as my personal experiences go, failed and collapsed within months. Not only does this corrupt the core of the guild between those wishing to stay or not, causing a terrible amount of needless drama, but it alienates a great number of casual players who may not want to make the move, or cannot afford to, or are unaware of the move yet still want to play; thus trashing the community atmosphere. It establishes a barrier -either in money or convenience- that turns away a great many people. I say this having seen and been a aprt of a -great many- dying guilds in the past. To make matters worse, neither the blades nor my characters have any history on AD apart from what seems to me as blatant conjecture. I cannot comment on what the AD community is like, as I have no experience of it so I see this as more a problem of sheer logistics.
What a move essentially amounts to is you forcing me to chose between two sets fo social groups, neither of which I want to abandon. Karak cannot funtion without the blades; Siyah would have to be reset entirely because a large amount of his development is coming from the Painted skulls and Pandaren (thus a lot of what he would say and hint at would be meaningless as there would be no way of ever 'solving the riddle' as it were), and Naeemh is so beloved by the dawnchasers it would be wrong to move her. Should a move actually happen it is most likely I would give on playing WoW altogether as the sheer guilt of leaving one side out would ruin the fun of the game.
At the risk of sounding shrill and alarmist, I cannot stress what a bad idea this would be.
13
Off Topic / Re: Art Section and creations!
« on: February 21, 2015, 05:14:09 PM »
A-am I Kawaii?~
))
15
Odds & Ends / Re: Om'riggor Transcripts
« on: May 03, 2014, 12:02:28 AM »
Logush
Hrmm.. I wnet to the forests of Ashenvale, spotted some wolf just sniffing around its lair... I believe it is what they call a 'ghostpaw' a white wolf, pretty larger then the others in surrounding area? Wasn't much of a fight, as I approached... it just gnarled at me and leaped forward right into my blade... it got its jaws in my back, but aside from that nothing else really happened.
Given Name: Heartseeker
Hrmm.. I wnet to the forests of Ashenvale, spotted some wolf just sniffing around its lair... I believe it is what they call a 'ghostpaw' a white wolf, pretty larger then the others in surrounding area? Wasn't much of a fight, as I approached... it just gnarled at me and leaped forward right into my blade... it got its jaws in my back, but aside from that nothing else really happened.
Given Name: Heartseeker