Post by Haen on Aug 2, 2010 14:34:31 GMT 1
((This was originally going to be in the Diary thread, but I felt it to be too long, so I'll post it here! I'll explain the concept of the "Dark Horde" more in game, should anyone be interested. All I'm saying for now, is that I was given the impression that it's various Horde guilds warming themselves up for the various changes being made to the Horde in Cataclysm.))
01/08/2010
I write this sitting atop the Bluffs in Mulgore, staring out at the cloud filled sky. A storm is approaching...and rightly so, too. The Earthmother lost a lot of her children today. The spirits weep, meaning the people of the Bluffs will have to prepare themselves for harsh rain and thunder.
Today marked the final night of the campaign being fought by the Alliance and Horde up in Northrend. Although this time, it was the Alliance against this new "Dark Horde" that's recently been set up. Consisting of the Gurubashis, the Blackblood Clan, the Forsaken Cult of Shadow, and the Sin'Dorei's Sunreavers/Sunfury Elite, the Dark Horde is truly something fierce.
I continue to ask myself why I've alligned myself with them; they're traitors to Thrall, if anything, preaching about how what he's doing is only setting the Horde back, weakening us. He sits idly by and tries to be diplomatic (which I, if it worked, I would greatly prefer). However, diplomacy with the humans obviously means nothing. War seems to be the only outcome of anything now.
Having spent the past week camped with the Trolls up in the Gurubashi mountains, I've learned a lot; changed; been "corrupted", perhaps. For even though I do not agree with the Troll's brutal practices (I watched in horror as they sacrificed a human prisoner a few days ago), I've come to believe that their beliefs on the current Horde are correct. Nothing is being done; people are still dying needlessly, all because the current Horde isn't making the best use of it's military. It chooses to defend, while the Alliance continue their relentless attack on Horde settlements, all over the world. Hundreds of civillians are killed, and the Alliance grow closer and closer to each of our major settlements with every passing day.
This is where the "Dark Horde" come in. A new type of Horde, led by the Gurubashis, they mercilessly fight back at the Alliance, by setting up ambushes for their approaching armies and raiding and burning settlements to the ground. I came upon them by chance, and have been drawn into their ways; not for the brutal slaughters in which they partake; but for the final outcome; peace.
"Peace through War" has become something I'm continuously telling myself. As I charged with various Orcs and Trolls, while they've been screaming threats and warcrys of death and suffering at the Alliance, I've been praying silently, telling myself that harmony can only come through pain and suffering; "Peace through War."
Today marked the final night of the campaign. We met at the camp as usual, and marched to the Hinterlands. After laying waste to various Alliance scouts posted at Aerie Peak, we raided the settlement, slaughtering anything that wasn't of our Horde we saw. Myself and a Gurubashi Troll spotted a Scout who'd slipped past us, running towards where the Alliance forces were said to be. Without any thought, we chased him down and destroyed him on the spot. I found myself overcome with something I thought I had passed; I bore no thought about what I was doing. I simply defended my allies and killed anything I thought to be hostile. It was that attitude that saw my exclusion from the Mistrunner Tribe previously, and something I worry about; it is now who I am anymore. It just seemed that under the influence my bloodthirsty allies, I lost any sense of thought.
After Aerie Peak had been taken, we marched on; though right into an Alliance ambush. As we rode through a narrow valley, what seemed like thousands of Alliance soldiers poured from the hills and the trees. It was perhaps the attack that signalled our eventual loss that night; it stole not only the lives of many of our soldiers, but the morale many of us previously had. I came inches within death myself, though managed to flee away under the guise of a Ghost Wolf. After what felt like hours, The Dark Horde found each other and regrouped. We pushed on through the Valley, only to find that the Alliance had abandoned their posts; they'd moved southwards to the island housing the now abandoned school of Stratholme.
We made camp on a hill, resting and healing, until eventually our Scouts reported back that they were situated on the bridge leading to the island. Our first thought was to destroy the bridge, so we sent out a team of engineers and mages to sneak under it and blow it up from beneath. A move the Alliance had obviously anticipated, as within seconds of reaching the underside of the bridge, the small team was ambushed by those of the Alliance who were hidden underwater; at the same time, men who appeared to be walking on water appeared out of thin air. We heard their dying screams for only five seconds before it went quiet. They didn't stand a chance.
With the plan to destroy the bridge out of the window, we charged; though after colliding with the Alliance forces, we seperated, and were made swift work of. The fighting was harsh, and the order to fall back was heard. Again, mother's ability to become one with the spirits saved my own, as I fled into the water as the Spirit Wolf again. We decided to fall back to Andorhall, believing that we'd have a better chance of defeating them if we took up defensive positions.
Once clearing the town of some of the undead who still linger the plaguelands, we set up an ambush for them; two teams were made, one in the Inn, and one in the central square. The team in the square was to be the "bait" team. When the Alliance attacked, the team in the Inn was to rush out and overwhelm them.
Though our numbers were low, and not everyone understood the plan; some believed we were to lead the Alliance into the Inn, where they'd quickly be slaughtered by the awaiting Dark Horde forces positioned inside.
The Alliance sent various scouts to check on us, though we made quick work of them outside - I was part of the "bait" team. Several more scouts arrived, though again, they were slaughtered quickly.
Eventually, the bulk of the Alliance forces arrived. They stood about fifty yards from the central square, preparing themselves and talking; planning what they were going to do, I can only imagine. From where we were standing, we could see everything; the fear in their eyes, their various wounds, the burning hatrid that ran through them, and in some of the higher ups, their sheer confidence in the belief that they couldn't lose.
After what felt like days, the order to charge was heard from the Alliance Commander. Their vast army swept over our small "bait" team like a tidal wave over Revantusk Village. It was myself, actually, who gave the order for the awaiting Horde in the Inn to come out and attack; we had no chance to lead them into the Inn, our numbers being so small. Within seconds of warning the rest of the Horde, I found myself surrounded by four infantrymen. While I gave out what I could, I was no match for the numbers; within seconds, I was on the ground, bleeding heavily.
After a five minute battle, in which I saw many soldiers, both Horde and Alliance fall, the order from the Gurubashi Oath-Bearer Strike to retreat was heard. The Horde army retreated, while I was left bloody and dying on the ground. The Alliance around us cheered in victory, letting out various War Cries that I couldn't understand.
They were, however, honourable enough to let the Dark Horde healers heal and save who they could; if it weren't for that, I wouldn't be here writing this passage. Though my wounds weren't fully healed, I was given the strength to arise and flee with the others.
After returning to camp, I said my goodbye to the Gurubashis, who paid their respects and thanks to me for aiding them in what seemed like a failed campaign (though the Trolls were able to retrieve an ancient artifact of theirs, which was the purpose of them being up North all along, I believe). The Oath-Bearer reminded me to ask my Tribe on their thoughts of joining the Dark Horde. I, personally, am all for it. They may be brutal, but if war is the only way we will find peace, then I consider myself a Shaman of War.
The Dark Horde is powerful, make no mistake. It just doesn't have the numbers as of current; the Blackblood Clan is currently small, and there were not enough Cultists there to be beneficial. If it is to truly reach it's potential, it will need -new- allies. The Red Blade Orcs consider them traitors, though at the same time, The Dark Horde considers the -Red Blades- traitors. I myself am unphased; confused, perhaps.
A few portals later, however, and here I am; sitting on the Bluffs, overlooking Mulgore. The peacebloom beside me is burning gently, and my smoking pipe is warming up. My wounds are grave, and my horns are gone; snapped, slashed and forced off during the past week's conflicts. All that remains now is to speak to the Tribe about the "Dark Horde"; perhaps if I expain to them -my- philosophy of it, they may join. The Oath-bearer promised an Alliance with the Gurubashis would be made if we were to join, saying that we'd find not only strength, but power and the means to achieve our numerous goals. He mentioned that it would help get us back on our feet, and bolster our ranks.
While I'm fully aware the Mistrunners and Gurubashis aren't exactly similar, I believe that if I can make them see through -my- eyes that what The Dark Horde is doing is beneficial, they will join me as currently, the only Mistrunner in this "new" Horde, and help fight towards the ultimate goal; the only thing I'll ever fight for; the thing most Tauren should strive to aim for;
Peace. Through War.
01/08/2010
I write this sitting atop the Bluffs in Mulgore, staring out at the cloud filled sky. A storm is approaching...and rightly so, too. The Earthmother lost a lot of her children today. The spirits weep, meaning the people of the Bluffs will have to prepare themselves for harsh rain and thunder.
Today marked the final night of the campaign being fought by the Alliance and Horde up in Northrend. Although this time, it was the Alliance against this new "Dark Horde" that's recently been set up. Consisting of the Gurubashis, the Blackblood Clan, the Forsaken Cult of Shadow, and the Sin'Dorei's Sunreavers/Sunfury Elite, the Dark Horde is truly something fierce.
I continue to ask myself why I've alligned myself with them; they're traitors to Thrall, if anything, preaching about how what he's doing is only setting the Horde back, weakening us. He sits idly by and tries to be diplomatic (which I, if it worked, I would greatly prefer). However, diplomacy with the humans obviously means nothing. War seems to be the only outcome of anything now.
Having spent the past week camped with the Trolls up in the Gurubashi mountains, I've learned a lot; changed; been "corrupted", perhaps. For even though I do not agree with the Troll's brutal practices (I watched in horror as they sacrificed a human prisoner a few days ago), I've come to believe that their beliefs on the current Horde are correct. Nothing is being done; people are still dying needlessly, all because the current Horde isn't making the best use of it's military. It chooses to defend, while the Alliance continue their relentless attack on Horde settlements, all over the world. Hundreds of civillians are killed, and the Alliance grow closer and closer to each of our major settlements with every passing day.
This is where the "Dark Horde" come in. A new type of Horde, led by the Gurubashis, they mercilessly fight back at the Alliance, by setting up ambushes for their approaching armies and raiding and burning settlements to the ground. I came upon them by chance, and have been drawn into their ways; not for the brutal slaughters in which they partake; but for the final outcome; peace.
"Peace through War" has become something I'm continuously telling myself. As I charged with various Orcs and Trolls, while they've been screaming threats and warcrys of death and suffering at the Alliance, I've been praying silently, telling myself that harmony can only come through pain and suffering; "Peace through War."
Today marked the final night of the campaign. We met at the camp as usual, and marched to the Hinterlands. After laying waste to various Alliance scouts posted at Aerie Peak, we raided the settlement, slaughtering anything that wasn't of our Horde we saw. Myself and a Gurubashi Troll spotted a Scout who'd slipped past us, running towards where the Alliance forces were said to be. Without any thought, we chased him down and destroyed him on the spot. I found myself overcome with something I thought I had passed; I bore no thought about what I was doing. I simply defended my allies and killed anything I thought to be hostile. It was that attitude that saw my exclusion from the Mistrunner Tribe previously, and something I worry about; it is now who I am anymore. It just seemed that under the influence my bloodthirsty allies, I lost any sense of thought.
After Aerie Peak had been taken, we marched on; though right into an Alliance ambush. As we rode through a narrow valley, what seemed like thousands of Alliance soldiers poured from the hills and the trees. It was perhaps the attack that signalled our eventual loss that night; it stole not only the lives of many of our soldiers, but the morale many of us previously had. I came inches within death myself, though managed to flee away under the guise of a Ghost Wolf. After what felt like hours, The Dark Horde found each other and regrouped. We pushed on through the Valley, only to find that the Alliance had abandoned their posts; they'd moved southwards to the island housing the now abandoned school of Stratholme.
We made camp on a hill, resting and healing, until eventually our Scouts reported back that they were situated on the bridge leading to the island. Our first thought was to destroy the bridge, so we sent out a team of engineers and mages to sneak under it and blow it up from beneath. A move the Alliance had obviously anticipated, as within seconds of reaching the underside of the bridge, the small team was ambushed by those of the Alliance who were hidden underwater; at the same time, men who appeared to be walking on water appeared out of thin air. We heard their dying screams for only five seconds before it went quiet. They didn't stand a chance.
With the plan to destroy the bridge out of the window, we charged; though after colliding with the Alliance forces, we seperated, and were made swift work of. The fighting was harsh, and the order to fall back was heard. Again, mother's ability to become one with the spirits saved my own, as I fled into the water as the Spirit Wolf again. We decided to fall back to Andorhall, believing that we'd have a better chance of defeating them if we took up defensive positions.
Once clearing the town of some of the undead who still linger the plaguelands, we set up an ambush for them; two teams were made, one in the Inn, and one in the central square. The team in the square was to be the "bait" team. When the Alliance attacked, the team in the Inn was to rush out and overwhelm them.
Though our numbers were low, and not everyone understood the plan; some believed we were to lead the Alliance into the Inn, where they'd quickly be slaughtered by the awaiting Dark Horde forces positioned inside.
The Alliance sent various scouts to check on us, though we made quick work of them outside - I was part of the "bait" team. Several more scouts arrived, though again, they were slaughtered quickly.
Eventually, the bulk of the Alliance forces arrived. They stood about fifty yards from the central square, preparing themselves and talking; planning what they were going to do, I can only imagine. From where we were standing, we could see everything; the fear in their eyes, their various wounds, the burning hatrid that ran through them, and in some of the higher ups, their sheer confidence in the belief that they couldn't lose.
After what felt like days, the order to charge was heard from the Alliance Commander. Their vast army swept over our small "bait" team like a tidal wave over Revantusk Village. It was myself, actually, who gave the order for the awaiting Horde in the Inn to come out and attack; we had no chance to lead them into the Inn, our numbers being so small. Within seconds of warning the rest of the Horde, I found myself surrounded by four infantrymen. While I gave out what I could, I was no match for the numbers; within seconds, I was on the ground, bleeding heavily.
After a five minute battle, in which I saw many soldiers, both Horde and Alliance fall, the order from the Gurubashi Oath-Bearer Strike to retreat was heard. The Horde army retreated, while I was left bloody and dying on the ground. The Alliance around us cheered in victory, letting out various War Cries that I couldn't understand.
They were, however, honourable enough to let the Dark Horde healers heal and save who they could; if it weren't for that, I wouldn't be here writing this passage. Though my wounds weren't fully healed, I was given the strength to arise and flee with the others.
After returning to camp, I said my goodbye to the Gurubashis, who paid their respects and thanks to me for aiding them in what seemed like a failed campaign (though the Trolls were able to retrieve an ancient artifact of theirs, which was the purpose of them being up North all along, I believe). The Oath-Bearer reminded me to ask my Tribe on their thoughts of joining the Dark Horde. I, personally, am all for it. They may be brutal, but if war is the only way we will find peace, then I consider myself a Shaman of War.
The Dark Horde is powerful, make no mistake. It just doesn't have the numbers as of current; the Blackblood Clan is currently small, and there were not enough Cultists there to be beneficial. If it is to truly reach it's potential, it will need -new- allies. The Red Blade Orcs consider them traitors, though at the same time, The Dark Horde considers the -Red Blades- traitors. I myself am unphased; confused, perhaps.
A few portals later, however, and here I am; sitting on the Bluffs, overlooking Mulgore. The peacebloom beside me is burning gently, and my smoking pipe is warming up. My wounds are grave, and my horns are gone; snapped, slashed and forced off during the past week's conflicts. All that remains now is to speak to the Tribe about the "Dark Horde"; perhaps if I expain to them -my- philosophy of it, they may join. The Oath-bearer promised an Alliance with the Gurubashis would be made if we were to join, saying that we'd find not only strength, but power and the means to achieve our numerous goals. He mentioned that it would help get us back on our feet, and bolster our ranks.
While I'm fully aware the Mistrunners and Gurubashis aren't exactly similar, I believe that if I can make them see through -my- eyes that what The Dark Horde is doing is beneficial, they will join me as currently, the only Mistrunner in this "new" Horde, and help fight towards the ultimate goal; the only thing I'll ever fight for; the thing most Tauren should strive to aim for;
Peace. Through War.