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Dances With Wolves

[Image: BloodMoonWolf.jpg]

Dances With Wolves

The Prelude

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Riplah, in your honor Machk and I decided it was time to ressurect your clan. With your principals and ideals in tact. I humbly take the role as High Wolf until your return. ******* I fight in your image too old friend, I hope we cross paths or blades once more. Machk and I reunited in Tanaris, at first I was unsure if he was friend or foe because of the scar I gave him, but it seems we had both grown over the years. We went to a cave that You and Machk went to long ago. You really had things planned out well High Wolf. I'll try my best to do the same, fortunately I'm not as impatient as I once was. We decided to hang up banners like you did, in Thunderbluff and Ogrimmar.

We met the applicants in Sun Rock and sent them on the same Trial we all went through. The Trial in which every Far Wolf would acquire his or her mask. Machk and I met a lot of our kin today. Orcs, Shu'halo and a few trolls, all willing to fight for the horde. It was very rewarding to see, there is another Far Wolf who reminds me of myself when I was younger. An Orc named Dalka, she's strong and impulsive yet willing to learn. She will be a strong Far Wolf in the future. Machk is still looking for Gralin, if we can find her I could rest a tad easier. I almost wish to search for ******* but, I don't think he would return. I'd never know where to find him either. Or you for that matter, where did you wonder off to High Wolf?

My first order is to regather the clan, our numbers are looking good but we need just a few more. Then we must focus on working together as a group, as a pack before we get into any serious danger. I was thinking about moving to the Barrens to try to deal with the Centaurs and thistleboars plaguing the Shu'halo. The Barrens separates Mulgore from Durotar and the last thing we need is these tribes taking away from members of the Horde in transit. We can probably relocate to the caves in Mulgore. I hear there are still battles over the resources in Ashenvale, and we were approached by the Battlemaster of the Deadeye Watchers who wished to form an Alliance with our clan. We will have our work cut out for us, but it is all for the horde.

As for now we're held up in the Cave we used in Stonetalon, we'll retreat here from Sun Rock after meeting new members. Eventually when things settle down I will ask Tafei to speak with the other Wyverns to see if they will honor our pack. I would like to take to the air again, perhaps we will find ******* in Northrend. Plus I hear they could always use help up North. But not until the unit is solidified. I hope we can find Gralin, we also have a Troll, Nas'fon who seems to work with mechanics, never had one of those in the Clan this may prove useful.

One thing I know is, that it is your ideals that brought us together High Wolf, the same ideals we will fight for as long as we are Far Wolves. Quick, cunning and no remorse for our enemy. I will start challenging them to Honor Rites, and make sure every one is training in their skills. I just hope that those people don't come after me, the elves should be able to handle them. They owe me anyway, I will keep this to myself until it truly presents itself as a problem. For now we focus on the Clan and the Horde. Blood and Thunder.

[Image: WoWScrnShot_081112_183639.jpg]
The Family Tree

TheBook of ThePharaoh

Pharaoh's Colosseum

The Four Suns Inn

"What are we, as role-players, if not authors in real time?" - MrBubbles

"I've always treated Role-play as Collaborative Writing. Co-authoring the stories of your characters, alongside other people." - Flammos200
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A Blood Bears Call Home


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Deep in the mountains far to the north sat a large Orc covered in ceremonial tattoos. A fire raged before him giving a dancing amber color to light the cave in which he sat. Sounds of echoing water from melted snow resounded off the cavern walls deep beneath within the mountain. The Orc spoke several ancient prayer words calling forth his powers allowing the spiritual realm to flow through him, “Hear my cry for guidance ancestors of old. Your champion calls to you seeking your elder wisdoms.” Wind rushed through the cave though no air flow was present. It was a mystic force of ages long since passed. It carried on it a deep voice not of this world “Grogloki Deathweaver, you have come on this quest seeking our aide and knowledge. You have your chance here child. Do not waste it.” Grog exhaled a frosty breath that rolled freely towards the warming flames of the fire light. His right hand stretched out as if to reach for something, but it only grasped air “Yes ancestor, I hear your voice and I come to you… now.” A violent snap of light flashed and Grog opened his eyes though his surroundings were no longer rock and snow. The raging fire was not present, only the calling forces of his ancestors spirits. He kneeled in awe of their mighty energy as it filled him with great honor and pride. Surrounding him were three orbs of bright white light.

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The center one spoke, “My son.” Grog’s breast filled with great love knowing his Fathers voice “Throm’ka Father.” A flash came from the orb, “Son, we have little time so you must listen.” Grog straightened though he remained knelt “I am listening Father.” The right orb spoke, another one of his ancestors “Grog your travels have brought you far and you have learned much on your journey. However… I fear for what is to come.” A look of concern graced Grog’s face, “What about ancestor?” It spoke once more, the voice echoing within Grog’s mind “There are forces rallying against the Horde and they seek to threaten our way of life… A storm is coming child and you must prepare.” The large Orc slammed a fist against his chest, “I shall train and become strong for this coming storm. I will honor you all.” A voice hailed from the left orb, “No. You will alone fail. There is a gathering that you must be present at… The Horde needs their warriors elite restored once more.” Grog’s head slumped, “Those times have passed many years ago… The Far Wolves are no more.” Laughter rose from the center orb, “My son, do not be so quick to speak on things of which you do not know…. Even now one seeks to reform the Clan.” There came a long silence as Grog tried to figure out of whom they spoke. Moments later he asked, “Who is this new body seeking to claim the rank of High Wolf?” All three orbs answered in unison, “Maku Bonethunder.” Grog slowly nodded, “I remember him, and he was an able bodied hunter. Although I have heard rumors over these past years that he has chosen a shamans path? Has that led him to seek reformation?” His father’s orb answered, “His reasons are his own my son.” As the orb spoke the room shifted taking on a different shape. Tricky is the realm of the mind and soul. Ancient weapons of those warriors long since passed littered the walls. Old chains symbolizing the struggle in which Orcs have endured hung freely. Grog took in the room for a moment, his head nodded humbly as he saw many faces surround the outskirts of the pillars.

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[youtube] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZeBGEwmPu4 [/youtube]

The three orbs floated closer before speaking once more, “Your travels take you back to your roots Grogloki, do not forget who you are and what has brought you here.” Grog stood to face the orbs on eye level as they slowly changed and began to take shape. The first that of his Father a tall strong Orc, secondly his Mother a petite yet well-muscled orcish woman, and lastly the ghostly figure with a smile was that of his mentor an aged Troll wearing shamanistic robes. Each offered the young warrior a look of great love. Deathweaver spoke to Grog “Joo be tread’in those wata’z of war that joo swam through before Grog… Joo must prepare to face dem demons mon.” Grog tilted his head taking in his mentors words of warning. Next was his Mother, “My dear boy…” Her ethereal hand graced his face causing his flesh to grow cold yet it brought warmth to his heart “So many years of hate my child… so much pain… The time has come; our Horde needs us now more than ever. It is for our people that you must soldier on and fight for them… for their children and their children’s children.” The large warrior gave a firm fist pound on his chest, “By my life or death I will help to ensure our people have a future. I give you my oath Mother.” A look of deep love danced across her face before a hand on her shoulder brought a slight look of sadness. The ghastly hand belonged to Grog’s Father; he gently pulled his wife away “Come love he knows his mission.” She gave Grog one last look of caring before stepping back allowing Grog and his Father to stand face to face, “Well my son… You have come seeking wisdom and we have given you our guidance. You are to join with Maku and the Far Wolves; it is there that your destiny will become clear.” Grog straightened his head lifting his chin high as he looked into his Father’s eyes. After a long moment of silence between the two his Father spoke through a choked voice, “You are everything good that Mother and I had in us, you make me proud my son. Never before has a son honored his Father as you have me. Carry us with you always Grog and never forget these faces that surround you in this ancient hall… The warriors of ages long gone will provide you with their strength, knowledge, and wisdom… You need only open your heart and listen.” Grog’s bottom lip quivered as pride surged through his body causing a slight tremble, “I will Father… I’ll not let a legacy of destruction cripple our people, I am Horde… and I am strong with honor, your lessons will never be far from my mind or my soul.” His Father’s face wore a proud smile through ghostly tears of honor shed long ago. A single tear streamed from Grog’s left cheek; it traced its way down through his scar and fell freely onto the marble floor. The three spirits stepped back at once their bodies forming the orbs once more as the surrounding world began to fade. Grog stood firm, right hand clenched over his left breast as he awaited the distant rolling light that came crashing his way. The mighty Orc closed his eyes letting the cracking energy flow over him. A loud crash exploded in Grog’s mind as he awoke seated before his raging fire deep in the cave, body wearing a blanket of sweat and tears in his eyes he stood and began to gather his traveling supplies… It was time to head back to Kalimdor, back to his people…


It had been several months since he left that deep northern cave in search of the one known as Maku Bonethunder. Grog searched high and low but much to his surprise the help that aided him most was a crumpled banner that hung at the Crossroads, it told him of a cave… The cave, actually. Filled with a new fire to find his brothers he set out for stone talon in search of the Far Wolves. Grog traveled for several days before reaching the Sun Rock Retreat upon entering the camp he flashed the banner to the guardsmen near the mountainside valley. With a single nod the guard filled Grog in on the recent happenings in the valley far below where the Far Wolves had battled Harpies once before. After being brought up to date on the safest ways through the valley alone he set out for the cave which he knew lay on the opposite side. He passed through charred wood and Harpy droppings before finally reaching the mouth of the cave. Mighty strides carried him up and into the nestled home of the once great Far Wolves. Inside sat a masked Orc but the mask did little to hide his identity, for Grog knew him well “Maku… Greetings my brother.”

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Grog moved to sit by the fire, “It has been far too long.” Maku nodded, “Indeed it has brother, I am glad to see your face.” Behind the Orcs came another voice, more of a growl really as a Tauren druid crawled from the shadows to lay upon a rock high in the cave. Grog hesitated not knowing at first if it was friend or foe then he caught a glimpse of the cat’s eyes. These eyes were known to him for being both wise and fierce; Grog tilted his head “Machk… It is good to see you Elder.” A roar of approval came from Machk with a nod as he settled on the rock transforming back into his Tauren form, “Welcome back.” Was all he offered the young Orc. The two had not spent much time together I the Wolves before but each knew of the other. Grog turned back to Maku, “My journey has guided me home to lend my axe to our people. They need the Far Wolves and we need them.” A nod came from Maku, “Yes, this is why I have reformed our ranks in honor of Riplah. I have taken the title of High Wolf until his return will you join us brother?” The two exchanged glances as Grog pulled out his mask, “I never left the High Wolf’s service and I stand ready to act for our people brother.” Maku wore a look of determination as he began explaining the coming plans for the Far Wolves. He spoke of two which would take the joining trials and of their first campaign once their numbers were strong enough to embark on it. Grog listened as he told him of the growing Centaur threat in the Barrens and how travelers from Thunderbluff to the Horde capital were being slaughtered by roaming bands of these horse fiends. The three spoke for long hours catching up and telling tales by the fire… The time of the Far Wolves was coming with growing numbers. After they had caught up Maku, Grog, and Machk set off for Sun Rock in hopes of meeting new members seeking to join there… To their pride they found many and the time for trials was upon them…


Time had passed after the trials and Maku came to Grog seeking assistance in scouting the southern Barrens near Mulgore. The large Orc honored his High Wolf by joining him in his travels. Maku spoke as they rode south near camp-T as most came to call it, “I have growing concerns more so than the Centaurs Grog… There have been rumors of harsh attacks by the quilboars as if they grow even more bold than usual. We are going to scout their numbers and check on one of the Horde settlements near here. I fear the worst.” Grog grunted in agreement, “Your will be done High Wolf, let us ride out together.” Both riders saddled up and struck out into the hot plains of the Barrens. They traveled for nearly an hour before spotting the raised thorns that were a tall tale sign of boar nesting. Grog pointed to the ridge top and Maku grunted in agreement. They dismounted and made for the peak of the cliff face.

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Much to their dismay what they saw was not a sight of pleasure. The Quilboar had doubled their numbers and their geomancers gathered in force near the base of the settlement. Grog spoke quietly, “They have far too many for us to strike with the Far Wolves now. We would be slaughtered.” Maku scanned the scene carefully with his shamanistic eyes, “Their geomancers are powerful ones at that… I wouldn’t dare march us into a slaughter that would be foolish. No, what we will do is scout the settlement then return to Thunderbluff where we will speak with the Tauren about possibly recruiting there. When we attack it will be in force.” Grog nodded, “Yes High Wolf.” The two slithered back down the hillside towards their mounts. Once mounted they struck out far to the east heading around the settlement which put them back another two hours, but time was of no concern. Maku held up a halting hand calling for them to stop which both did sharply. Their mounts breathed heavy in the thick dry air of the desolate plains that rolled before them save one small structure. In the distance sat the settlement… or rather, what was left of it. Grog cursed as Maku ordered the charge in.

The camp had been badly attacked most all the structures were burned to the ground and bodies littered the sandy grass. Maku dismounted ready for battle but quickly sheathed his blades upon seeing no opponents, “Grog scout the western side of the camp, and I’ll take the eastern.” Grog hopped down and strode off west. A hot wind blew as Maku entered the main structure left standing. Inside he found beaten bodies and bloody corpses. He whispered a soft prayer for the dead before leaving not wishing to disturb their bodies further by rummaging. Grog saw a young Orc woman’s corpse beaten to death badly, she hadn’t the build of a warrior woman more that of a commoner perhaps. The body lay twisted caked in dry blood. She wore gashed and gaping bones that jutted from open wounds as her only clothing besides torn rags. This brought great sadness to Grog seeing her taken down to less than nothing by these beasts. Maku approached yet remained silent as Grog placed a hand upon her bloodied head with a prayer following closely after, “Go well sister to meet your ancestors near the far fires of our people. You have earned honor for yourself as you bare the wounds of conflict. Your memory will live on in us.” After he finished Grog turned to face Maku, “It was Quilboars…” The two already knew it but Grog spoke through angry tusks perhaps saying it made it more present? Made it more real? No matter, to the Orcs this meant blood. Grog spoke as they mounted up and moved out, “What’s the next move High Wolf?” Maku spoke through gritted tusks, “Planned vengeance… We head for Thunderbluff to recruit all we can… Then we will thin the Quilboars numbers in force.” A hot sun beat down on the two as they rode to make preparations for the coming battle…
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[Image: BloodMoonWolf.jpg]

The Shu'halo Campaign

Kill More Quilboars

The sun began to dip into the clouds, spilling a reddish hue into the sky. It was an omen the young Shaman felt. He had moved the pack to Mulgore, he wondered if it was too soon. He planned on training them more, but such novelties weren't always allowed in war. While scouting with Grogloki they ran into the Deadeye Watchers, they had news of Harpies attacking caravans in the North western area of the Barrens. He wondered if there was a connection between the vicious attacks of the pig men in southern barrens. Machk exited the cave, wise, large and majestic the old Tauren stood beside where the young Shaman sat. "I hope I made the right decision...We still need time to increase our numbers..."

The wind moved the grass of Mulgore in a subtle wave, it also effected the grizzled fur of the Shu'halo. "If Machk and Maku only wolves left, we fight. " The two discussed actions to gather more wolves as Grogloki returned from his meditation somewhere else in the Valley. They returned to the cave, where the echo from their voices and fire light bounced around mischievously never betraying its true source. The Far Wolves sat around the fire which illuminated their unique masks, with them was the only Sin'dorei that had sat with the clan in years an ally to them through the Deadeye Watchers. Porcia Agricola one who respected orcish culture was welcomed and engaged in their discussion on the best way to protect Mulgore. It was decided they would speak with those in Thunderbluff and begin planning at dawn.

As if the spirits protested, footfalls were heard echoing through the cavern. A silhouette appeared of an armored orcish female, her hair tied high in a warrior's topknot. It was Gralin, she had returned. Gralin was amongst one of the original Far Wolves, along with Maku, Machk and Grogloki. She was trusted and well respected while the Clan was under High Wolf Rip'lah. Her return envigorated her clan, causing their orcish blood to stir. Instead of waiting they decided to go on a patrol and left the cave to their riding wolves outside. They traveled to Camp Taurajo, scanning the horizon as two black columns of smoke contrasted boldly against the graying sky. The wind carried the scent of burning wood and flesh, it was unsettling. They headed off at once, a pack again. No one spoke, but their eyes were alert, and they were ready to attack.

As they arrived to the base of the columns of smoke, they saw two Shu'halo structures submerged in flame, with the half charred cadavers of Tauren, Orcs and Trolls sprinkled around the vicinity. The Quilboars stood around as if looking for something before attacking the Far Wolves head on. They were stronger than what the Far Wolves planned and out numbered them. The battle continued still as one single Harpy remained in the air, her shadow slithered over the surface of the ground. Although wounded, one by one the Far Wolves, beheaded, dismembered and bludgeoned every last Quilboar leaving them in matted piles of flesh amongst their Horde kin. Only after the Geomancer died, did the Harpy engage in battle. She was skilled, not as skilled as a matriarch but enough to tussle with the fatigued Far Wolves. Even she couldn't hold her luck for too long however as she combusted by the might of Grogloki, raining flesh and feathers down over her fallen allies and victims.

After seeing to their wounds, Maku pleaded with the elements to put out these fires so they could investigate. After the rain fall, Grogloki spoke with one of the spirits of the victims, it was brief. Apparently the Quilboars had been attacking everyone, the Horde members and the Dwarves to the south. He began about Harpies but the connection was lost. There was nothing else of value, so they prayed over the souls and retreated back to the Cave in Mulgore. Something troubled Maku deeply however, and it caused Grogloki to ask him what bothered his mind. It had already been speculated that the Quilboar may worship or Idolize the Harpies evidenced by some of the things they keep in their dens, but he'd never seen the two so directly connected. It was also a very far distance for a single Harpy to fly, something wasn't right but he couldn't figure it out.
The Family Tree

TheBook of ThePharaoh

Pharaoh's Colosseum

The Four Suns Inn

"What are we, as role-players, if not authors in real time?" - MrBubbles

"I've always treated Role-play as Collaborative Writing. Co-authoring the stories of your characters, alongside other people." - Flammos200
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