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Between A Rock And A Kosh'harg Place


In past years, the Red Blades came to see their biannual Kosh’harg celebrations in Nagrand as something of a reprieve. A safe haven amongst Outland’s more dangerous and corrupt regions, the Land of Winds was a home away from home. Orcs would tell tales around the Garadar campfire, spar at the Ring of Trials, hunt the majestic talbuk and mighty clefthoof of the land — and of course, on the anointed day of the Kosh’harg Festival, trek out to the Spirit Mountain of Oshu’gun to give tribute to the ancestors and feast amongst their allies.

But the Red Blades are not upon Outland, but its primordial alternate antecedent of Draenor. When the latest Kosh’harg season came about upon the vernal equinox, they made the customary pilgrimage to its version of Nagrand. Yet the tribe found not a haven but a hornets’ nest of Warsong war-riders, Gorian centurions in stone-wrought battlements, and oversized, ferocious beasts. Everything had changed, and the Red Blades would have to abandon their prior knowledge of Outland’s Nagrand in hopes of mapping out the dangers of this savage Land of Winds.

Nothing proved sacred to the ruthless Iron Horde. The traditional Kosh’harg grounds, nestled in the foothills of Oshu’gun, had been annexed and fortified by the Warsong Clan. Eager to avoid defiling hallowed ground with bloodshed, and moreover, desirous to celebrate the Festival safely without the threat of ambush, the tribe were forced to hold the Festival upon a high, remote clifftop within view of the Spirit Mountain. With the Red Blades' allies in the Horde arriving on their own business or to commemorate the Kosh’harg, the Festival itself came and passed without violent incident. This indeed proved a relief for those weary of war and past internal bickering amongst the banners of the Horde Gathering.

As the sun set on the Kosh’harg Festival, the Spirit Mountain appeared as magnificent as ever amongst the picturesque Nagrand landscape. Yet not all was quite as it seemed — spiritualists approaching Oshu’gun reported feeling an off-putting tension in the air, and south of the mountain, a strange sort of eldritch corruption had begun to wither away the trees of the Spirit Woods and its beasts. Something was foul in the region, and whether the result of the Iron Horde’s machinations or something darker yet, it would have to be put to an end for the sake of the ancestral spirits dwelling within the Spirit Mountain.

Yet more immediate dangers would soon confront the Red Blades. Guerrilla assaults were hatched to stem Iron Horde aggression in the area, and try and make the roads of Nagrand a safer place for travellers — yet it proved clear that the tribe were hopelessly outmatched and outnumbered, and whatever impact they might have, it was certain to be temporary. News that the Iron Horde had allied with the ogres of Highmaul proved distressing, but emboldened the orcs to begin considering strikes against their holdings.

The Iron Horde and Gorian Empire were not the only organised threats facing the tribe, however. Reports of encroaching and hostile Alliance forces began to appear, and then, danger struck from the most unlikely of places. An unassuming sheep that had been High Blade Sharptongue’s pet and companion of late turned out to be the exiled warlock turned peon Luk Vileclaw. Though eventually captured and executed, with his soul imprisoned within Gul’thauk Blackblade’s runeblade to prevent an unholy resurrection, Luk’s brief violent and manic appearance had involved brainwashing Gul’thauk Throatrender and injuring several orcs along the way to an assassination attempt on the High Blade.

Throughout all of these many perils, the Red Blade tribe has held strong, and through the rigors of adversity, they have bonded closer yet. The Kosh’harg Season has drawn to a close, and their attention is beginning to turn from the Warsong strongholds of Nagrand to more vulnerable areas upon Draenor. To where will the Red Blades ride next? Only time will tell.

At Last: Avast!

The First Voyage of the Red Sails

Ye come seekin’ adventure and salty ol’ pirates, eh? Sure, ye come to the proper place — but keep a weather eye open! And mark well me words, mateys… dead orcs tell no tales!”

— Seaking Kozgugore, Captain of the Red Sails

For ten years, Orcs of the Red Blade have provided an authentic orcish tribal roleplay experience. But even time-tested concepts must evolve, and after weeks of consultation and brainstorming amongst the officer-team, I am proud to reveal a bold shift in our long-term direction. So ahoy, strike yer colors and fire at will, ye scurvy swabs, for the Red Sail crew are ready to set sail!

“Ahoy, weigh the anchor and keep yer ruddy hands inboard! There be plunderin’ pirates in every cove, waitin’ to board, and the depths of the briny blue for them what don’t obey! Now, hoist oars aloft, ya bloomin’ cockroaches!”

— Gridish Rimemariner, Gunner and Navigator of the Red Sails

Since the demise of Kalimdor Corsairs, the nautical niche on Defias Brotherhood’s Horde community has been unfilled for years. But after a couple of weeks of an introductory plotline, the Red Blade tribe will soon turn their eyes seaward and turn to pillaging and plunder! Without spoiling too much of what we have planned, there will be buccaneering bilge-rats, fo'c's'le swabbies and tawdry tavern wenches aplenty — not to mention salty sea-storms, murderous mutinies and cursed treasure!

“No fear have ye of evil curses, says ye? By thunder, properly warned ye be, says I! Who knows when Davy Jones will strike the greedy beholders of this bewitched treasure?”

— Jolly Rhonya, Ship’s Surgeon of the Red Sails

But wait, there’s more! Using existing in-game assets such as ships in Stranglethorn Vale, Tanaris and the Swamp of Sorrows, we’ll overcome the static WoW world with fluid RP focuses (or Voyages, as known going forward). Nor will the variety of events suffer — from RP-PvE roll events (with the new and improved Bloodied Barnacles system), to use of the Battle for the High Seas scenario, to coming ashore to conduct RP-PvP raids of Alliance settlements, a fun time is guaranteed for all! Before long, you’ll be playing Liar’s Dice and drinking grog with the best of them!

“Squawk! Pieces of Eight, Pieces of Eight! Squawk!”

— Polly Morph, Gridish’s Parrot

Some will understandably find the transition from lily-livered landlubbers to salty sea-dogs a bit awkward and sudden, especially after a decade of tribal roleplay — not to mention our repeated shipwrecks over the years! But I wish to reassure the sceptics amongst you that our introductory plotline should smooth the process quite considerably, and that before long, you’ll be so used to life on the seven seas that you won’t even know what a wolf looks like!

Stay tuned for more information about the impending first voyage of Orcs of the Red Sail! Avast!

"...Yarr! For the Blood of the Crew and for the Yo-Ho-Horde~!"

— First Mate Sadok Scurvytongue

No Laughing Matter


“You can’t spell slaughter without laughter.”

Laughing Skull Proverb

The Red Blade tribe barely weathered the inhospitable wastes of Frostfire, and were all too keen to escape its frigid, frozen tundras. They would find little solace however, in the tropical jungles and arid buttes of Gorgrond.

Yet their cunning and ferocity would be tested before they even reached the jungles — an ingenious stratagem was hatched to safely blaze a trail through the Thunder Pass and out of Frostfire Ridge. While Rrosh-tul Rimeweaver and Varog’Gor Duskstalker sneaked within the Iron Siegeworks, poisoning supplies and assassinating key personnel, Wolfking Feraleye and Thur’ruk Sharptongue would enter the realm of Magnarok in hopes of riling up the element of fire and forcing a dormant volcano to life.

wowx5-artwork-046-full_zpsr5yrvjvnThis risky endeavor was no success by any conventional measure — a flow of lava nearly annihilated the Frostwolf Clan’s holdings at Wolf’s Stand, and the orcs returned burnt and wounded. Yet enough damage was struck to the Iron Siegeworks that, as the tribe rode fast through the Thunder Pass, the engineers and demolitionists of that encampment proved too distracted to resist their passage into Gorgrond.

Some frostbitten Red Blades no doubt exhaled a sigh of relief as the humid heat of Gorgrond and towering palm-trees welcomed them. But this land’s own dangers would soon become evident. Rik’clar Rendfist, their Laughing Skull guide, would take them through a dizzying, meandering course through the savage jungles, so unlike anything they had encountered upon Azeroth. Deadgrin, the sanctuary promised to them, was already over-run by toxic goren, and soon they would encounter orc-eating plants and reanimated corpses corrupted by the land’s spores and vines.

At long last, the tribe’s perilous pursuit of shelter would lead them to the coastal retreat of Broken Horn Village. In their madness, the Laughing Skull Clan had made their homes under the very nose of Warlord Blackhand and his Blackrock Foundry — many tribesorcs doubted the wisdom of this location, but nonetheless appreciated the refuge given to them by these eccentric survivors.

The Red Blades would repay this kindness by aiding the Laughing Skull Clan where it was required. From holding the Tournament of the Blades as a welcoming gift to their bloodthirsty hosts, to running around the jungle gathering strange items and various skulls as part of Broken Horn’s “Laughing Stock”, the tribe’s talents were well-employed.

They would also investigate a Kirin Tor encampment overwhelmed by the savage local fauna deep within the Everbloom, though a leak of magical energies created multiple mirror spatial pocket-dimensions which shattered the tribe into various fragmented parties. Finally, the tribe would begin to pry within the Blackrock’s heavily-fortified holdings — despite some low-key sabotage, it was clear that the might of the Foundry was simply too great for the Red Blades to overcome.

Yet the tribe have learnt one thing from the Laughing Skulls — to merely survive is its own victory. Though they may suffer defeats and setbacks in the face of a larger and more menacing enemy, the Red Blades are still united, unbowed, unbent and unbroken. The tribe’s numbers grow by the week, with a fresh crop of Nag’Ogar, Gosh’kar and Gul’thauk forging their destinies as Red Blades — and the Horde Gathering, long a casualty of acrimonious argument and petty grudges, has been remobilised with a sense of urgency befitting the enemies facing all peoples of the Horde.

Though their masked chuckling allies may disagree, the Red Blades know the battles to come are no laughing matter.

Rise of the Wolfking


After weeks in search of their heritage upon Draenor, the Red Blade tribe began to uncover clues about the whereabouts of the historic Clan Redblade, their ancestors.

They encountered the spirit of a slain Nag’Ogar during a Spirit Walk, and avenged him by slaying the ogre who killed him and desecrated his remains. They charted out the Shamanstones of the Frostfire tundra, believing early cultures developed around these powerful monoliths. And finally, with the garn-packs of the western ridges growing bolder and causing havoc, the tribe looked to its storied past for answers.

Countless years ago, the founding Chieftain of Clan Redblade was an orc named Kraag, son of Githya Redblade. When the garn of the mountains began to terrorise the orcs, there was much bloodshed. Kraag resolved to bring the warring to an end, and entered the lair of Magoth, the greatest of these great wolves.

Long they fought, with tooth and claw and fist, until Kraag triumphed and earned Magoth’s respect — the pair would become inseparable companions. With the hill-wolves and Redblade orcs allied on that day, Kraag would proclaim himself Wolfking and all of his bloodline would share this title, until the days of Grenth Stonebrow, last of the Wolfkings, and the dissolution of Clan Redblade into the Old Horde at the hands of Akesh the Poisoner.

Drawing upon this legend of old, the Red Blade tribe sought to earn Kraag’s blessing before they warred with the mighty garn, who feared no hunter and hunted anything they pleased. After completing a ritual in which they burnt the remains of a mighty hunt as offerings, a Garn Spirit would come forth and lead them into the vast Frostfire wastes. Arriving by a ruined encampment nestled in the mountain foothills, it would soon become clear that the orcs had discovered a very sacred land indeed.

They were led into Magoth’s Lair — a stifling, humid system of caves where Kraag once etched his legacy. They uncovered markerstones commemorating the great Chieftains of Clan Redblade, where tributes had been laid in days immemorial. Moreover, they found a primitive, derelict encampment built around a long-dormant Shamanstone — a settlement by the name of Kraag’gol, the Home of Kraag.

After the Garn Spirit infused the Shamanstone, reactivating it, the Red Blade tribe gained Kraag’s blessing. Their strength, vitality and agility imbued until the Garn Alpha was slain, the tribe were granted the Might of Magoth and soon rode out in high spirits to hunt the apex predators. Slaying lone wolves straying too far from the pack and painting their faces in their blood, the tribe approached the pack’s full-blooded Garn Alpha and his mate — and put them to a bloody end.

With the death of their Alpha, the remainder of the pack seemed to capitulate with booming words from Chieftain Kozgugore Feraleye and the display of their Alpha’s head. Much smaller than their Alpha, but still larger and wilder than the average wolves, these half-breed mongrels had garn blood within them, and they soon approached the tribe not as beasts to be subjugated… but as equals.

After the tribe and their new companions had some time to acquaint themselves with one another, they soon solidified their bond in blood with a raid upon a neighboring garn-pack — wolf and orc alike were gorged on slaughter as the half-breeds’ garn-like ferocity and the orcs’ mighty resolve won the day for them. As their wolf-allies howled into the night, cries would emerge from the orcs: “For Wolfking Kozgugore!”

Though no blood-kin to the Line of Kraag and making no claim to the title itself, it was clear that in the eyes of his orcs, Feraleye’s uncovering of Kraag’gol, leadership against the Garn Alpha and union with the half-breed pack had made him worthy of the title in his deeds. With the tribe’s numbers strengthened and its alliance with the mighty mongrel-garn, the campaign against the Iron Horde begins in earnest.

In their first months, the Red Blades were prey upon Draenor. Now they go on the hunt.

A Song of Frost and Fire

Somewhere off the jagged, snowy shores of Frostfire Ridge, commandeered Iron Horde warships ran aground. From their grim decks came ragged refugees from the Battle of Tanaan — native Frostwolves, enslaved by the Iron Horde; and the remnants of the Azerothian Horde vanguard, including the proud Red Blade tribe.

Huddled for warmth around Frostwolf campfires in the remote Stonefang Outpost, the tribe would shift focus from war to survival. With the Spirit Link severed, few essential supplies and no riding mounts, the Red Blades soon discovered the frigid, foreboding land around them offered nothing — and so they had to take everything.

Raiding parties skirmished with Thunderlord hunting-bands to pilfer arms and supplies, while tribesorcs explored the vast frozen wastes to map out points of interest and identify hunting grounds. Though this strange alternate Draenor held many dangers, the Red Blade tribe were determined to adapt to this new land and prove themselves worthy to their Frostwolf allies.

Even so, the bleak tundra of Frostfire held its share of surprises. During a bid to forge a new covenant with the ancestral spirits of Draenor and thereby restore the Spirit Link, the tribe encountered remnants of the historical Clan Redblade — assimilated into the Old Horde on the Draenor they knew, yet still extant somewhere upon this new world. The tribe have an unprecedented opportunity to connect with their forebears, yet knowledge of the Clan’s homelands remain tantalisingly out of their grasp for now.

Where there is hope for the tribe’s future, there remains menace. The Thunderlord Clan took poorly to the tribe’s raid upon their Daggermaw Ravine holdings, and kidnapped three orcs of the tribe in a retaliation attack. The tribe have had to adapt to their vicious enemy in a bid to make these giant-hunters their prey, taking hostages of their own and planning bold assaults to strike at the heart of the Thunderlord and reclaim their captive brethren.

Dangers and opportunities abound upon Draenor, and into this uncertain future, the Red Blades march forth with a Chieftain new to some but familiar to many. Tormented by strange visions that pull him from his duties, Rargnasha Bloodmark has set aside the mantle of Chieftain, and Kozgugore Feraleye leads the tribe once more, as he has done for many years prior. No matter its Alpha, the tribe’s focus is the same — to find a foothold in this savage land and fight the Iron Horde. Will they adapt in this hour of reckoning, or will they perish in glorious battle?
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