Welcome to Guest. Please log in or sign up.

May 28, 2024, 05:22:35 PM



2024 May 14 17:54:07
The website has never looked better!
2023 Dec 29 21:06:51
I think Rashka.exe has stopped working.
2023 Dec 28 20:49:43
2023 Jul 22 22:17:06
Such shouty people in here, gosh.
2023 Jul 20 01:42:16
Remember to shout your lungs out every once in a while!!
2023 Jul 08 17:30:53
Shouting here to make sure everyone knows that I'm still here!
2022 Jan 24 23:27:52
Wow I can't believe I remembered my password!
2021 Dec 18 15:37:28
2021 Nov 10 12:24:52
Remember to check both ways before crossing the plains!
2021 May 22 14:10:40
I too am testing the shoutbox for non-nefarious reasons.
2021 May 22 13:55:49
This is me testing the shoutbox, because shouting is a great stress relief and it would be a shame if it doesn't work.
2021 Mar 25 03:38:20
2020 Nov 20 00:14:09
Ice cream for all
2020 Oct 09 09:49:55
Happy Anniversary!!! It's party timeeee!
2020 Sep 24 12:39:42
Oh god. The warlock found the shoutbox!
2020 Sep 23 16:42:21
THE SHOUTBOX. Omg. This was like proto-Discord.
2020 Aug 23 09:36:02
*Grabs a camera to record what happens*
2020 Aug 22 16:24:43
*prods shoutbox*
2020 Jun 16 10:34:12
2020 Jun 05 13:32:27
Swedish Pagans?
  • Total Posts: 33082
  • Total Topics: 3067
  • Online Today: 190
  • Online Ever: 440
  • (January 13, 2020, 10:14:59 PM)
Users Online
Users: 0
Guests: 130
Total: 130
130 Guests, 0 Users

Pages: 1 ... 13 14 [15] 16 17
The Path Behind. The Way Ahead.

The past months have proven arduous. The Red Blade tribe have endured heat, drought and death in its pursuit of the powerful long-lost Specter of the Shaman-King, a fabled relic once wielded by an almighty Spiritwalker of the old Clan.

The proud and disciplined pack’s travels have indeed been fraught with peril. They have traversed the treacherous marshes of Dustwallow and navigated the sea-swallowed bluffs of the Thousand Needles. The tribe withstood the oppressive heat of Tanaris and weathered the furious sands of Uldum. It evaded the fierce beasts of the Un’Goro Crater and battled the eldritch horrors of Silithus. And finally, within the ruined walls of Ahn’Qiraj, a combination of cunning subterfuge and tenacious might allowed the tribe to combat innumerable silithid and valiantly secure the Scepter.

But what is strength without honor? The tribe’s efforts in the south-lands were by no means limited to combat. It undertook a series of elemental rites to honor the spirits wronged by the Scepter’s abuse under the sinister Twilight’s Hammer cult. It too aided and fostered relations with the loyal wyverns of Highperch, the brutish Dunemaul ogre-clan and intrepid Tol’vir of Uldum. And throughout their dangerous quest the orcs have grown closer to one another, forging blood-oaths to the tribe and to one another.

The pack is stronger and wiser for its tribulations in the south-lands, yet the way ahead may prove even more strenuous. Much has changed in the tribe’s absence from Central Kalimdor - the bloody war against the Alliance has escalated to a fever pitch. A string of decisive military victories have silenced skeptics of the Warchief’s vicious policies, and now Hellscream has commanded that all must lend their blades in the pursuit of total victory and conquest.

Tension is rife and the climate of the Horde is changing. Rumors circulate of a strange ursine race seen in Orgrimmar. Whispers abound of the Kor’kron targeting vocal critics of the Warchief, removing them from the streets. The young and infirm toil to craft weapons while the blood of orcish warriors stains battlefields the world over. Will the Red Blade tribe be able to weather the coming storm, or will strife and mistrust consume the pack from within?

- Written by Sadok Sharptongue
The search continues
Several weeks have passed since the orcs have left familiar ground and have begun venturing to the far south. Through the Barrens they have ventured, and then trudged through the muddy swamps of Dustwallow. There, the road led further south, where the tribe was halted by the sight of a flooded Thousand Needles. Thankfully, the gnomes and goblins of Fizzle and Pozzik's Speedbarge managed to provide a temporary home for the soaked and tired orcs.

Their journey was halted by the presence of cultists and wyverns, but nothing stopped the tribe from reaching the wastes of Tanaris in the end of it all. There, the hot days and chilly nights were not the orcs' sole problem, as pirates, trolls, ogres and scavengers alike scoured the horizon in search of prey. Now, the tribe's attention has turned towards Uldum. Perhaps not as sandy as its neighbour Tanaris, but holding all the more secrets and mysteries.

It was a vision of the Red Blade Clan's predecessor, the wise shaman Mruthgor, that has led the tribe on this strange and long-winded path under guidance of the tribe's newest Thur'ruk, Sadok Sharptongue. The spirits are restless, and the tribe must stop at nothing to retrieve what was once theirs in order to put the spirits to rest. For the sake of the tribe and its expanding community, this must be done, no matter what directions the elements or spirits may point them in to next. After all, one thing is certain: This journey is yet far from over, and by the time it is, more looming matters have no doubt arisen at the horizon. The search for spiritual balance continues, but the world, and with it, its many conflicts and mysteries, continues to turn.

In the meantime, congratulations go out to our newest Nag'Ogar to honour the tribe's ranks of warriors: Gro'gona Marshfang, Keishara Wildeye and Mozrogg Doomhowl! Moreover, more aspiring orcs step up to the challenge to leave their mark on the tribe's records and to prove their worth towards one another. New bonds are forged, and new paths are carved as the tribe continues its venture into southern Kalimdor. The exile after the unrest caused by Varog'Gor Groshnakk Wyrmbreaker may have dealt a blow to the tribe, but so long as its core stands united, the tribe will persevere. This kind of strength will no doubt be needed in the months to come with the balance of the world of Azeroth at stake, and no doubt about to change for worse or for better.
A champion emerges!Tournament01

The road to Northrend has been a tedious one. Fog and storms caused the orcs' ship to end up on the bottom of the sea. While some orcs struggled to get to shore, others were cast adrift and ended up in a different place entirely. What survivors that were able to regroup with one another would soon form the remnant of the tribe. Through cooperation and hard work, they managed to make camp and eventually found their way back to Camp Winterhoof. Under the shelter of the Horde's allies, the Taunka, the tribe managed to recuperate and even find other orcs that were still missing. With the tribe back to its former strength, it carried on to the Grizzly Hills. After a brief detour to take care of the hills' eastern shore, it soon continued further inland, to the safety of Conquest Hold.

In Conquest Hold, the tribe did what it was sent to do: Secure the resource lines and make sure they reach Kalimdor shores along with it. With the task finished, they set their gazes on different matters entirely: A Tournament of the Blades within the hold itself!

The tournament proved to be a success by the sheer amount of orcs and allies of the tribe visiting by to watch the tournament in itself. Not only that, but the competition proved to be increasingly steep to boot! Every participant proved to be a daring and skilled combatant, each bringing honour to their name by showing off their many skills. In the end however, only a few could remain to pit against one another in the final battles. The fighters to have won the most battles and to move on to these finals in the end turned out to be newcomer to the finals, Vashnarz Talonslayer, as well as none other than the tribe's former champions Groshnakk Wyrmbreaker and Rargnasha Bloodmark, along with the tribe's reigning champion, Sadok Sharptongue.

The latter two ended up facing one another in a thrilling finale, with champion fighting former champion. Rargnasha Bloodmark had managed to defeat the tribe's current champion before in the round-robin battles, but now faced a renewed opposition from the Sadok Sharptongue, as the two fought in a long-lasting battle. It was a dangerously close call, but in the end, Sadok Sharptongue managed to defend his title in a thrilling finale! Praise be to him, but praise be to any orc who stepped up to fight for his or her honour in the tribe's tournament!

The next tournament, open for the tribe's allies as well, will be scheduled to take place in March, in the week of the Kosh'harg festival. Make sure to join us then, for it will offer a whole new chance for new grand combatants and possible champions to rise up!

In the meantime, the orcs prepare to make their final voyage home, back to the shores of Kalimdor. However, who knows what further conflict and enemies may await them upon their return to more familiar shores...

The tribe opens its doors!
taurenAn invitation to all people of the Horde,

The Horde is a unity that has been formed for a common purpose: Survival. Orcs, tauren, trolls, goblins, elves and Forsaken; we all have our own reasons for being a part of this unity. In survival however, we are united. The Red Blade tribe has been a home for any and all orcs of the Horde for the past several years now, and is still a haven that provides shelter for any survivors of the Homelands that are willing to walk among their own kin.

The purpose of the Red Blade is twofold: To preserve a safe future for the heirs of our legacy, and to uphold the morals by which we do so. The orcs have had a long history on Azeroth of being demon-bound. No longer are we bound to these creatures of deceit. We are masters of our own. As such, we have gladly allied ourselves with the trolls, tauren and goblins on Kalimdor, and the Forsaken and blood elves on the Eastern Kingdoms. We wish to share this future with our allies, and therefore seek to open our doors to not only orcs, but our allies, in particular those closest to our hearth, the noble tauren and the fierce trolls, as well.

A pack united under a single entity has always proven to be the strongest. The Horde is no exception to this. Any allies who wish to join us our efforts to maintain a strong and safe Horde are at any time free to seek us out, travel with us, and fight with us. Our cultures are very much alike, and as such, we wish to hold no secrets to those closest to us. Should you prove yourself a valuable and worthy ally, you will have an entire pack – an entire family – at your disposal. The advantages of such a natural entity requires no explanation.

Should you wish to join in our company, write a letter or be free to find any other means of contacting us. We will return an invitation with our latest location accordingly, as our pack is constantly on the move.

For the glory of the Horde, and the blood of the tribe,
Kozgugore Feraleye

Chieftain of the Red Blade tribe

OOC explanation:
As those of you familiar with Orcs of the Red Blade know, we have been an orc-only RP guild on Defias Brotherhood for nearly as long as the server has come to existence. Though we aim to keep it this way, we have now started to open up our doors to any other races, with particular interest in tauren and trolls, that are willing to join us in the RP experience all over Azeroth and Outland. Our goal with this is to provide the community with some well-needed tribal RP again, as we have found out that, sadly enough, the tauren and troll communities on Kalimdor in particular could use a bit of a boost.

An important note here is that this is by means no recruitment to the guild. Should you be interested in becoming a part of the RP experience with OotRB, you simply need to contact me or any of our officers for an IC invitation. Although you will not be invited to the guild, you will receive an invitation to all of our calendar events, and the latest information on our activities and whereabouts. This means that you could still be a part of your own guild, and still be able to come on over and RP with us whenever you would like to. If this initiative kicks off well, we might just open up for more opportunities altogether.

Journey to Northrend


It had been a long journey. The tribe had set out from the harbour of Bilgewater Port in Azshara, where they had prepared and commandeered a vessel to bring them to the far reaches of the icy land of Northrend. Here, they would endure the harsh cold of Northrend for the next few weeks, in order to harvest resources and secure the lands for any other necessities the Horde required. Several days, they had spent on the sea. But at last, a cry came from the top of the mast.

“Land in sight!”

The orcs jumped to action, ending their meetings on a quick note as they prepared to make land. Chieftain Kozgugore Feraleye, in turn, made his way to the front of the ship, where Krogon Devilstep was keeping firm control of the ship’s wheel. As the Chieftain squinted his eyes northward, there was indeed a hint of land to be seen. It was tiny and vague, but definitely there. They slowly sailed closer, but whereas it became bigger, it became more clouded as well. It then started to dawn upon him; a fog was setting in on them.

“Be on the lookout, orcs! These mists have claimed many ships and orcs before us!”

Before Kozgugore knew it, the mists had fully enveloped the ship, offering sight little more than a few yards ahead of them. Some of the orcs grew edgy, and New Blood Mozrogg joined Krogon at the helm of the ship, trying to look ahead for the helmsman.

“Yer be goin’ in blind, Devilstep!”

“I can’t steer back out now, we’ll hit ice.”

“I’m makin’ out a large rock to yer port, Krogon-… You ‘ear that?”

Blindly, the orcs navigated their way through the dense fog, when suddenly a wind started to pick up the ship’s sails, sending the ship up and down the crashing waves. A chilling breeze wafted over the deck, and any orc that might have been carefully listening could have sworn he heard a low, eerie horn in the far distance. Kozgugore reached for the ropes next to him, holding on tightly.

“Sounds like a storm brewing… Brace yourselves, orcs! This might just be a rough ride before we’re through!”

As the orcs manned their stations, the winds picked up, sending the ship rocking once again. With any luck, Kozgugore could still see the two orcs in front of him by the helm, though the rest of the ship and its orcs were clouded in the mists even for him. He could still hear however. He heard the waves swirling against the ship’s hull, bashing upon its reinforced frame time and time again as they rode wave after wave. He also heard footsteps on the wooden deck, some with a panicking rhythm to them. He heard an orc crying out a warning as well. He looked around, ready to raise his voice above all the commotion, when the ship suddenly seemed to crash against something from the starboard side.

“Hold on! Remain on your posts, orcs!”

It appeared to be too late already, however. The ship started to heave heavily to the side, and along with the chilly winds, a heavy rain started to pour forth into the ship’s sails. Mozrogg started to lose his balance, crying out to Krogon.

“You said we -wouldn’t- crash! Watch out!”

He could hear screams to his right, but saw nothing. What he did see, was that the ship’s wheel had become unmanned. Krogon must have been thrown away from it. It seemed to matter little, as it was completely out of control already. Not even the strongest orc could probably have tamed it any more. All things unsecured soon started to tumble to the side, falling overboard and taking any unlucky orcs that were in its path with it. Kozgugore only narrowly managed to avoid a falling crate, though only until a high wave crashed against the hull with tremendous force, giving the ship that one, final push it needed to collide fully. Shouts and screams went all across the deck, but the fog was simply too dense to allow any orc to make a difference. They were taking water, and it became obvious that the ship wouldn’t last long. It was when the sound of a falling mast could be heard that the ship took a final dip to the side, sending any and all orcs flying into the water. Kozgugore tried to hold on to the rope for dear life, desperately looking for his mate or anyone else of his tribe, before a crate sent him, too, flying.

Suddenly, he felt himself crashing into something hard and cold. Darkness filled up around him, and objects, be it crates or orcs, could only barely be seen floating around him under water. It was with a last struggle that he fought against the current, when a giant cannon could be seen crashing into the water.

Pages: 1 ... 13 14 [15] 16 17