Balandar

2004-08-28 17:08:01 By strange circumstance, Rhoach ended up living most of his life in a human city. This necessitated staying out of sight for most of his life, leading to a larcenous lifestyle. When he was young, he had the delusion that he was a human, and it took him a long time to accept the fact that he was, in fact, a troll. His given human name is Ulrich, but he never uses it, as it brings back bad memories. He ended up working with the thieves' guild of the aforementioned city, the only organization in the city that would accept a troll into their ranks. Eventually, he got tired of the discrimination against his heritage, even in the thieves' guild, and decided to seek out more of his own kind. He left the guild against his master's wishes, and was on the run from him for a great long time. He went on a search for answers, and came to the conclusion that everything was just a big, incomprehensibe mishmash. Eventually, he ran into a member of the Skullcrusher Orc clan, and the rest is history. Now, he does whatever he thinks he'll get the most kicks out of. Sometimes he flips a coin to determine whether he'll risk his life in certain situations.

2004-08-28 17:07:27 Part 1 Stranglethorn Vale 10 years Before Present Rhoach peered out of the thick foliage into the clearing. The 11-year old troll had developed keen survival instincts during his childhood. One of these instincts was staying hidden, and that instinct dictated that open, bright spaces were to be avoided as a rule. This ingrained behavior had served him well during his flight from the human city of Stormwind. A thieves’ guild was not an organization to be left lightly in the best of times. With a master like Kzar the Knife, desertion meant certain death for the deserter unwary enough to be caught ((but that is a story for another time, dear reader)). Rhoach’s ruminations were interrupted by the sound of rustling branches. Slowly turning his ears toward the source of the noise, he shrank further back into the shadows, dropping on all fours into a feral, alert crouch. Only the faint yellow gleam of his eyes betrayed his presence in the wall of greenery. Two tall humans and a dwarf walked into the clearing. One of the humans, a female, was clearly a mage, using a staff with a glowing gem on top as a walking stick. The other human walked with a noble bearing. He was clad in chainmail and wore a shield over a large warhammer strapped across his back. The dwarf seemed typical of his race, holding a two-handed battleaxe against his shoulder and wearing a dour expression. “I think we’re off course, Chorich,” the dwarf spoke grumpily, addressing the human with the sword. “No tellin’ what lies in these woods,” he added gloomily, fingering his axe and throwing suspicious glances at their surroundings. Rhoach crouched a little lower and stilled his breathing. “Patience, Kerlack,” the mage spoke softly, fingering the gem on the top of her staff. “Kivian will lead us aright. He has never failed us before.” “Where is that damned ranger anyway….” the dwarf grumbled. Too late, Rhoach heard the slight sound of a dry autumn leaf crunching less than a foot behind him. Muscular, purple hands grabbed Rhoach underneath his armpits and hoisted him into the air from his prone position. A night elf, apparently Kivian, held the squirming Rhoach aloft as he walked into the clearing. Chorich merely raised his eyebrow when he saw the ranger’s prize. “Find yourself some vermin, Kivian?” “It would appear so, paladin,” the night elf spoke, disdain in his voice. Whether the disdain was directed at his wiggling captive or the human, Rhoach couldn’t tell. The small troll (he was about a foot shy of the paladin’s height) was dumped unceremoniously in the middle of the clearing and immediately surrounded by the company of Alliance members. Part 2 Rhoach scrambled to his feet and found a hammer spike pointed at his throat. He reflexively stumbled back and fell into a sitting position. He cut a rather pathetic figure, his scrawny form betraying the fact that he hadn’t eaten a substantial meal in weeks. His clothes, being little more than rags at the outset of his journey, had hardly benefited from the long days of slogging through t###### vegetation. He was equipped with nothing but his clothing, save for a hidden dagger he kept strapped to the underside of his forearm. His darting eyes and lean appearance gave the impression of a hunted animal. “What’ll we do with the little monster?” Chorich asked coldly, looking down the point of his hammer at the cringing ball of misery on the other end. He obviously assumed that their catch didn’t understand what he was saying. “What do you mean, ‘what’ll we do with it,’ Chorich?” Kerlack spoke growlingly. “Kill it, of course. Its kind has been responsible for the deaths of many of my people. If it is set free this day, the blood of my kin will be on my hands.” “Kerlack!” the mage cried. “Look at it, it’s just a child!” The words of Rhoach’s old master feverishly flashed through his mind; ‘There is a reason the wolf goes to the effort to dress himself in sheep’s clothing,’ his old master used to say. That was one of Rhoach’s first lessons. He reminded himself to keep his teachings foremost in his mind, as they had saved his life more than once in the past. Rhoach put on his most pathetic face and puppy dog eyes, hoping to glean some more sympathy from the mage, as she appeared to be the only one who stood between him and a slit throat. It worked. “Chorich,” the mage spoke scoldingly, “it’s scared! Just put down your weapon and let’s ask it what it’s doing out here.” “Ask it what it’s…?” the paladin sputtered. “Marianne, you speak as if it’s more than a beast! I know how trolls conduct their ‘business,’ living mostly naked in the jungles, tundras, and forests where no sane race would even dream of living. My apologies, Kivian,” he added quickly as the elf bristled a bit at the forest comment. “Why, I’ve even heard they eviscerate live captives for the sport of it!” he continued, eyeing Rhoach balefully. “You put too much stock in rumors, paladin,” Kivian stated softly. “Trolls are worthy opponents, and are more similar to my own people than any Alliance race. I doubt they would commit such heinous acts, outside of their witch doctory.” “Ha! Any race that condones such heathenistic practices deserves everything the heavens can throw at them,” Chorich spoke, sneering. “Besides, trolls cannot speak any of God’s languages. We couldn’t communicate with it even if we wanted to,” he said, waving the matter aside. Rhoach’s mind had raced during the conversation. Should he betray the fact that he was, for all cultural intents and purposes, a non-troll? What would he gain by revealing this? What would he lose? “Lesson nine: when the darkness fails you, words must be your cloak of shadows,” Rhoach muttered quietly to himself, remembering. Also, during the small company’s debate, Rhoach’s ears had caught the faint sound of what sounded like… chanting? When the wind shifted, it seemed to fade. It had gone unnoticed by the arguing Alliance members, however. Part 3 “…don’t know that it’s evil just because it’s a troll,” Marianne was saying, gesticulating with her staff. Chorich had obviously lost some of his holy conviction under the onslaught of the mage’s words. He now held his hammer at Rhoach as if he had forgotten why he had done so in the first place. Watching the two, Rhoach surmised that they were probably very close, a mated pair perhaps. While the paladin and mage were trading words, the dwarf, Kerlack, had grown more and more impatient. His face had grown redder and redder, until finally he hoisted his axe and shouted, “By my beard! You humans are hopeless! I’m disposing of this little rat right now!” The dwarf took a step toward Rhoach, who, desperately looking for something to buy time, shouted back in the common Alliance language, “I’m no rat, you gnomelicking midget!” He had learned some creative insults as a master thief’s apprentice. The entire company widened their eyes in amazement and stared at him. The dwarf’s jaw nearly hit the ground as he held his axe aloft in midstrike. “It… speaks the Alliance language?” he asked nobody in particular. At that moment, the chanting in the woods that Rhoach had heard earlier returned suddenly with a vengeance. This time it was loud enough to make a small flock of crows take flight from some nearby trees, cawing raucously. Time seemed to freeze as a confused, then angry expression crossed Kerlack’s face. Before he could say whatever was on his mind, however, a bolt of electricity streaked down from the strangely clear sky and ripped through the dwarf’s axe, which acted as a lightning rod. A blinding light and a boom of thunder knocked captive and captor alike to the ground. Part 4 Kivian was the first to recover his wits. “Chorich?” he called. “I’m here,” a groggy voice responded. “Marianne?” “I’m alright,” a voice near Chorich’s shakily reported. “Kerlack?” Silence. Angry with himself for not being more alert, Kivian stood up warily in the tall prairie grass to peer over at the large scorch mark that used to be Kerlack. “A trap,” he snarled. “Where’s that little demon?” Rhoach, during all this time, had lain prone after the explosion. He hadn’t seen a blast like that since Sharky had botched the job on the alchemist’s lab((again, a story for another time)). Upon hearing the elf’s snarling accusation, Rhoach had decided that it was time to disappear. He had the feeling that he’d be spitted on the nasty looking spear the infuriated elf now brandished before he got a chance to plead his innocence. Before he could do anything, however, he heard a loud crashing of branches as an orc came hurtling out into the clearing, seeming to destroy a small part of the forest in the process. This was the first time Rhoach had ever seen an orc, and this one certainly seemed to live up to the fearsome rumors Rhoach had always heard about them. This one had many trappings about it, bearing numerous trophies and medals on its scant armor. It had an insignia on its right breast depicting a broken skull. The only thing more terrifying than its growling, gaping-mouthed countenance was the huge claymore that the rapidly approaching creature wielded in one hand as if it were a short sword. Rhoach heard a rough voice with a strange accent calling from the forest, “Grulg! Waid ub!” The heedless Grulg (for Grulg it was) did not stop his charge until he had reached Kivian, who had risen to meet the orc’s charge, gripping his spear and quickly assuming a defensive stance. His bow hung uselessly on his back; the orc’s mad dash had been too quick for him to even nock an arrow. “It’s the Horde!” the night elf screamed as he raised his spear to parry Grulg’s incoming blade. When the blow landed, however, the elf’s spear did no good. Grulg brought the weapon crashing down with such viciousness and brute strength that it snapped the steel haft of the weapon without stopping, continuing its deadly arc until it had ripped the elf from shoulder to groin. Kivian fell with a slight sighing sound and lay still. Part 5 The paladin had struggled to his feet just in time to see the ranger cut down. His face contorted with righteous fury and lit with a strange inner glow as he raised his warhammer to the heavens. The very air around the human seemed to ripple with power. Even Grulg looked a little unsure of his chances. Letting out a battle cry that seemed to come straight from the gods themselves, the paladin fairly flew across the battlefield to meet his enemy in glorious combat…. and promptly tripped over the cowering Rhoach, who had been trying to crawl his way back into the woods unnoticed. Grulg grinned at the prone form in front of him and reversed his enormous sword in his right hand, preparing to deliver the killing blow. A cry sounded from the ground nearby. “Chorich!” Marianne, the mage, had regained her feet and was pointing her finger at the orc standing over the paladin. She quickly spoke an arcane word and a small ball of fire shot from her index finger and hit the orc in the chest. He stumbled backward and beat his chest with his free hand, attempting to snuff out the flames without success. “UGLUUUUUUUUUUUUUTZ!” the burning orc howled as he continued to stumble back towards the forest’s edge. “Wud lat wunt?” another orc, also wearing the emblem of a broken skull, spoke crankily as it hobbled out of the woods. Grulg gestured at his flaming chest frantically. “Me blah lat, waid ub!” Uglutz muttered moodily. He glanced over at the humans. The paladin was up again, and the mage was chanting. Still muttering, Uglutz raised his hands and made a few gestures. A small raincloud appeared above Grulg’s head, dousing the flames quickly. Then the icestorm hit. As Marianne finished her chanting, daggers of ice came shooting down, embedding themselves in trees, the ground, and whatever else they happened to come into contact with. One struck a horned helmet worn by Uglutz, shattering one of the horns with its kinetic force. Uglutz gained an even crankier look(if that’s possible) and waved his hand once more. A wave of intense heat radiated outward from the orcish shaman, melting the incoming shards of ice fifteen feet before they ever reached the ground. Grulg looked around in wonderment and exclaimed, “Dis nu vudu bubhosh, Uglutz!” His companion merely grunted and pointed back at the battlefield, where the paladin seemed to be running around the clearing in random patterns. Grulg shrugged at the spectacle and rushed back into the clearing, leaving Uglutz to chant. Or whatever it was that shamans did when they were left alone, the orc thought to himself. Part 6 Rhoach had taken off as soon as he had recovered from Ulrich’s boot in his ribs. It was well, as the paladin had gotten up soon after and chased Rhoach with surprising speed for one who was wearing chain armor and heavy boots. As the incensed Chorich gained on him, Rhoach feinted left and doubled back around the surprised human. Rhoach darted past his pursuer… straight into the raging Grulg who was running the other way. The startled troll had enough wits about him to tuck himself into a ball and roll in between the orc’s legs, who appeared to see only his foe in the deepening twilight of the forest clearing. Rhoach came out of his roll and hit the ground running. Free! He thought to himself. As he neared the clearing’s edge, he heard the mage speak a sharp command and a crackle sounded behind him. Before Rhoach had time to wonder what it was, electricity suddenly surged through his body, causing him to hit the ground and twitch convulsively, little arcs of light dancing through his teeth. The paladin immediately gave up chasing the wretched troll and steeled himself to meet his opponent’s charge, this time slinging his shield from his back and holding it close to his body. Now the orc would flail uselessly at the wall of metal, allowing Choric to choose his blows as he pleased. Or so the paladin thought. His look of smug satisfaction turned to one of surprise as Grulg planted his feet and hurled a throwing axe from his belt faster than Chorich could blink. It whistled by the startled paladin’s face by mere inches. The human’s surprise turned to relief… and then he heard a groan behind him. A horrible feeling growing in his gut, he turned around slowly, his worry making him heedless to his foe. Marianne lay on the ground, the axe embedded in her sternum. Her life’s blood was quickly spilling itself into the rich soil of the clearing. “Mari!” Chorich cried out tearfully, hurrying to her side and kneeling. He laid his hands on her, crying out to his god to heal her. Her bleeding slowed to a trickle. He felt life flow from his limbs into her body, and urged himself to give more. As he desperately worked his craft, he heard the heavy, clomping steps of his hated foe closing in quickly. Cursing, he gave up healing Marianne for the moment and hastily readied his shield and hammer. Grulg came at him with a bloodthirsty yell, and soon the two were locked in combat. Part 7 Meanwhile, Uglutz had lackadaisically ambled his way over to where Rhoach lay, still twitching slightly. Grulg knelt down next to the wounded troll and stared at him for a bit. “Don’ wanna go ta lockpickin’ practice…” the juvenile troll was muttering feverishly in his comatose state. “Hmm…” Uglutz pondered to himself. “Dis olog blah oomie blah…” Nodding to himself, Uglutz called upon his shamanistic powers to heal the jagged scar of charred flesh running down the length of Rhoach’s back. Gradually, Rhoach stopped muttering as the magic did its work. The shaman’s powers restored the blackened skin and scrambled muscle the way Rhoach’s natural powers of regeneration could not. Rhoach’s eyes fluttered a bit, then opened fully. When he saw Uglutz crouched over him, he sprang backward and would have sprinted into the forest in a blink had the shaman not called out to him. “Ug! Lat der!” the orc called after the starved, but still spry, troll. “’less lat stup, me vudu lat!” Rhoach froze upon hearing the word voodoo, if he understood nothing else. He had witnessed the power of Uglutz’s magic. He did not wish to be hit by lightning twice in one day. He turned back slowly to Uglutz. The shaman grinned and tapped his fingernails together, out of which sprang large dragonflies. Rhoach stood, not daring to move. “Olog. Lat hep Grulg. Dat Grulg.” The shaman pointed at the field of battle. Rhoach assumed that this strange being was referring to the other orc, now in the action of parrying a strike from the human’s warhammer. “Clomp da oomie.” Uglutz pulled his lips down to cover his jutting teeth in an impression of a human, then mimed hitting himself with a large axe he unstrapped from his back, wearing an exaggerated expression of fear and speaking in a high falsetto: “No! Dun’ clomp me, me jus’ liddul panzee!” The shaman looked over to Rhoach, who wore a befuddled expression on his face. He was trying to figure out if the orc before him was playing some kind of trick on him, wanted him to do something, was mentally unbalanced, or perhaps all of the above. Uglutz interpreted the befuddled look as complete understanding. “Gud. Go. Clomp. Or me vudu lat.” Rhoach cocked his head to the side. He understood what the shaman wanted of him (after a little pondering), but he didn’t know what he would get out of it. The privilege of being allowed to remain in the world of the living? A particularly loud clash sounded from the center of the clearing. Uglutz poked him and pointed sharply towards the duelists, his patience at an end. Rhoach shrugged and slinked off in the direction of the combatants, keeping low to the ground and fingering the dagger strapped underneath his forearm. His smart aleck attitude had been the cause of several scars from Kzar. He wasn’t fond of making himself appear meek, much to his former mentor’s chagrin. Part 8 As Rhoach neared the battle, he took stock of the situation. Both combatants had slowed down considerably from their initial fervor. They were circling each other guardedly, each not daring to take his eyes off the other for a second. Their movements were slow and halting. It was clear they were both at the point of exhaustion. The mage lay on the ground twenty paces or so away from the fight. Rhoach could not tell if she was dead or just unconscious. He decided to find out. Skirting the fighters, he made his way over to the still form. Unnoticed by either of the meleers, Rhoach knelt down beside the mage. After poking her a few times with no response, he decided to check her heartbeat. He started to put his head to her chest, then realized something was in his way. It was an axe, embedded in the mage’s sternum. “That’ll have to go,” Rhoach muttered to himself. He tugged on it. Nothing. He pulled harder. It didn’t budge. Frowning, Rhoach hopped up onto the mage’s chest, locked both hands around the axe handle, put his feet against her stomach, and heaved with all his strength. After a second of straining, the axe ripped free of the mage, and Rhoach found out the messy way that the axe had been keeping the mage’s blood inside her. A spray of crimson hit Rhoach in the face, startling him and causing him to lose his grip on the axe as he was falling back. The axe sailed behind Rhoach and flew in between the nearby duelists, making both fighters jump back and peer warily around them. Rhoach looked down to discover that if the mage hadn’t been dead before, she was now, judging by the gaping hole in her chest. Chorich looked and saw that little scab of a troll crouched over Marianne, her chest a bouquet of blood and splintered ribs. The paladin’s face turned a deathly white as he stood, eyes transfixed upon the sight. It felt like the bottom had dropped out of his soul as he unconsciously stretched out his arm to his beloved. Then the world seemed to turn upside down, everything was black, and he knew no more. Rhoach watched the human fall, a blank expression on the young troll’s face. Once more, his mentor’s words tumbled through his mind like sand through an hourglass; ‘Lesson six: a turned back is no defense against an assassin’s blade.’ Part 9 Grulg wiped his blade on the corpse of the now-headless human, grinning. “Pushdug oomie no see zult. Gud muv, olog!” he yelled to Rhoach. The wary troll waved back at him cautiously, having no idea what had just been said. Now what? Rhoach wondered to himself Uglutz came stumping up to Grulg and whispered a few things in the other orc’s ear. Grulg raised an eyebrow, nodded back to Uglutz, and the pair approached the flighty troll still perched upon the mage’s ruined breast. On the way, Uglutz knelt and severed the paladin’s leg just below the knee, placing it in a filthy boarskin bag he unhooked from around his waist. “Wer lat frum, olog?” Uglutz asked Rhoach, tossing the bag near the troll’s feet. Rhoach shrugged, not understanding the question. “Hmph. Lat blah oomie blah.” Pointing to himself, Uglutz said, “Me Uglutz, Vuduboss Clan Skullcrusher. Dis Grulg, Warboss Clan Skullcrusher.” Grulg grinned down at Rhoach. “Lat?” Uglutz asked, pointing at Rhoach. After a couple seconds of silence, Rhoach realized that he was expected to introduce himself. “Oh, uh… me Rhoach.” The shaman nodded, leaned down close to Rhoach’s ear and spoke conspiratorially. “Skullcrusherz prob’ gunna’ be on own sun. Cud uze gud olog. ‘specially ash whu blah oomie…” Uglutz looked down at the troll to see how his audience was listening. Rhoach was picking his nose, looking bored. Uglutz sighed, then noticed the young troll’s hand lingering on one of the dead mage’s baubles, a gold necklace. “Hmmm…” Uglutz wondered aloud. “Dis ash sneek’r…” He snapped his fingers and reached into a pouch at his side, withdrawing a handful of silver and gold pieces he had looted from a merchant’s stall during the last Horde plunder. “See dis?” He smiled in satisfaction as he saw Rhoach’s eyes widen slightly and gain a covetous look. “Menny shineez wid uz. Lat go tu ORGRIMMAR. Ax fer SKULLCRUSHER CLAN. Be wid uz, git SHINEEZ.” Uglutz practically shouted these last words, as he figured those would be what the troll understood. The troll was covering his ears and squinting back at the eccentric shaman, but repeated, “Orgrimmar. Skullcrushers… shinies?” Rhoach pondered the orc’s words, looking down and screwing up his face in concentration. He nodded to himself and locked his gaze with Uglutz’s. “You saved my life. I’ll be there.” Uglutz nodded in satisfaction, not totally understanding the little troll’s language, but taking the response as a positive one, nonetheless. Gesturing at the bag he had tossed at the troll’s feet, he said, “Take. Eet. Oomie meat gud. Lat luk lyk skinee elbzie. Go.” The sound of more orcish voices came from the east side of the clearing. After one last questioning glance, Rhoach picked up the bag and swiftly skittered into the dense vegetation of Stranglethorn Vale. Part 10 (final chapter) Orgrimmar 1 year Before Present A lanky troll walked into the gates of Orgimmar with smooth, fluid motion. He looked like any other troll save for the gleam in his eye when he eyed a passing tauren merchant’s bulging pouch. He accosted the tauren. The bull man snorted in irritation, but stopped, wondering what the troll had to say. “Skullcrushers?” the troll asked with a strange accent. The tauren had no idea what the troll was talking about. It shook its head and began to walk away. The troll quickly stepped in front of him and repeated, “Skullcrushers?” The tauren growled and attempted to walk around this irritating troll. Once more, the troll blocked the tauren’s path and repeated once more, “Skullcrushers?” The tauren had had enough. It picked the troll up by the neck with one massive arm and tossed him to the dirt against a nearby stone wall. Harumphing to itself in indignation, the tauren continued on its way. Rhoach stood up and dusted himself off. “Thank you for your help, kind sir,” he chuckled as he emptied the tauren’s purse into his own, tossing the emptied pouch to the dusty streets of Orgrimmar… It took him the rest of the day to find an individual who could point him in the right direction. That was fine by him, however. More time in the city meant more time to enrich himself. Ah, how good it was to be back in a populated area, with all the interesting inhabitants and their equally interesting accumulated wealth. Finally, he ran into a fellow troll who gave him the directions to the nearby Skullcrusher encampment. Rhoach nodded his thanks and set off. A couple hours later, he walked into the camp. After asking around for Uglutz, he was pointed in the direction of a tent with, oddly enough, purple smoke billowing out the front. And who emerged from that smoking abode but that strange figure from ten long years ago, back when he was just a whelp: the odd orcish shaman. He was even wearing that helmet that had had one of its horns shattered on that fateful day. As Rhoach approached the grizzled orc, a voice spoke up in his head. ‘Lesson fifteen: always honor your word. It is all our people have.”

2004-07-08 23:14:00 The battle had reached a fevered pitch, the sound of bloodthirsty orc warcries and ululating elf chants filling the air, the clash of weapons and the screams of the dying completing the symphony of carnage on the battlefield. Rhoach ignored it all as he continued his climb to the top of the watchtower. Scarcely seven feet from the top, Rhoach heard a sort of whistling sound subtly reaching his ears over the regular sounds of battle. "What's that...?" Rhoach wondered aloud, pausing in his climb to look around. Suddenly, something smashed into the top of the watch tower, bringing with it an almost unbearable heat and a blinding flash, causing Rhoach to grit his teeth and look away. With both of his arms wrapped around the scaffolding, Rhoach felt the watch tower rock and shudder. Eventually, the structure stabilized, and Rhoach was able to look up and survey the damage. The protective basket at the top of tower and the trolls contained inside it were totally gone. Rhoach blinked. Magework. The need to urinate was more urgent than ever. Rhoach chattered his teeth a few times (a habit he had developed to calm himself down), shrugged, and began to unbundle a spear from the pack he had managed to hold on to during the blast. As he did so, he squinted across the battlefield, taking a more careful look at the elven army they were facing. We can't take these numbers... Rhoach thought. And that mountain giant quickly approaching the entrance to the fort looked none too friendly as well... A plan of escape began to form in his mind. As he was thinking, an arrow whizzed by his face, causing him to reflexively jerk back, bringing him back the present as quickly as he had drifted off. Growling, he finished loosening the tie on the bundle and hefted the spear in his right hand. Grabbing on to the scaffolding with his left, he leaned far out to the right, took aim at an elven swordsman, and threw. He saw the spear pierce the elf's stomach. The elf clutched his abdomen and was lost in the shuffle of combatants. Grinning to himself in satisfaction, Rhoach pulled another spear from the bundle and repeated the process. Hey, this battle isn't turning out to be so bad, Rhoach thought to himself as he downed elf after elf. Close, easy targets without much risk... hey! An arrow thunked into the scaffolding. Apparently, an elven archer had seen Rhoach's antics and decided to put an end to this nuisance. Rhoach was forced to duck behind the poles of the scaffolding when he wasn't throwing spears, and he had to throw quickly. This was making him miss most of his targets and waste his dwindling supply of spears. What was worse, the mountain giant had reached the front lines, and was making its way towards Uglutz and the clan shamans who were a short distance from the watch tower Rhoach was currently in. As if THAT weren't bad enough, the need to pee had reached a new high and was making Rhoach constantly squeeze his legs together to avoid embarassment in addition to death. "Now what..." Rhoach muttered, throwing another spear and managing to wing another elf. Before he could duck back behind the thicker sections of the scaffolding, the pesky elven archer hit his mark. An arrow jutted out of Rhoach's right thigh quicker than he could comprehend its coming. He hissed in pain and stumbled, barely managing to hold onto his few remaining spears and keep his balance. Another arrow zoomed by. This one, by sheer chance or by an elf's cruel sense of humor, caught the string on Rhoach's loincloth, effectively piercing it and ripping it off of him, and shooting it past the watchtower into the nearby fort walls with a dull THUNK. Rhoach snarled slowly and wondered what he had done to offend the gods so. It wasn't enough that he was going to die, now he was going to die naked. The thought of elves trampling over his naked body made his exotic skin burn with anger. Poking his head out from behind cover, Rhoach narrowed his eyes, looking for that treehugging, weakblooded, maddening elven archer who took away his mobility and loincloth with well-placed arrows. There! Rhoach picked him out among the middle ranks of the elven army. When the elf observed Rhoach's nakedness, it grinned and nocked another arrow, apparently planning to finish the job. Rhoach's snarl contorted his entire face as he locked his eyes on the target and threw his last spear with all his strength. It flew across the battlefield, reaching an enormous height at its arc. Plunging down onto the battlefield, it pierced the elf's pelvis, shattering its hip and pinning it to the ground. Rhoach, his eyes on the progress of the spear, did not even see or feel the elf's last shot until he had watched the elf fall with grim satisfaction. Looking down at himself, he saw another arrow, this one sticking out of his knee. Rhoach bent it experimentally, then howled with pain, his leg buckling. The world swam before his eyes for a few seconds, making him throw his arms around the scaffolding to avoid falling. "Hm, better not do that again," he breathed to himself, grinning ruefully. At that moment, Rhoach felt the ground begin to shake. Uh-oh... he thought. Looking down, he saw that the mountain giant had reached the clan shamans who were chanting below him. Standing well over fourteen feet tall, the giant was less than five feet below Rhoach's ankles on the scaffolding. Rhoach saw the giant raise its club to dispatch the group of shamans in one fell swoop before they could finish their chanting. Before it could squash them, Rhoach saw an orcish clan member, Glok'tur, charge into the area. Glok'tur let out a battle cry, raised double axes, and threw them at the giant. They stuck into the giant's shins. The giant roared, fumbling with its club and staggering around. Momentarily, it had recovered itself, however, and faced its new opponent with the axes still embedded in its shins. Watching the scene, Rhoach saw the brave orc looking left and right for a new weapon as the giant closed in on him. Rhoach reached for a spear, then realized that he had thrown his last one at that pesky elf, and scimitars were worthless for throwing... What to do... what to do... Rhoach thought fervently, as the giant had almost reached Glok'tur. Maybe it was the stress of the battle. Maybe it was Rhoach's mischevious mind at work. Maybe it was his nakedness. Whatever the cause, Rhoach had an idea. Grinning to himself, and thanking his foster father for being able to speak some of the alliance language, Rhoach shouted, "Overgrown dwarf! Up here!" as he threw the bundle of thick spear tie at the giant's head. The giant heard an insult and felt something bounce off the top of its head. Glancing up in irritation, the giant let out a rumbling cry of fury as thick, greenish liquid cascaded down into its eyes. Rhoach was hanging onto the scaffolding with one hand and directing the 'assault' with the other. The giant dropped its club and staggered blindly around, groping for some kind of handhold. Its eyes burned as if acid had been poured in it, troll piss being even more vile than the usual fare. Rhoach laughed, giddy with success, loss of blood, and the brilliant afterglow of just having taken a long-needed piss. He even took his hand off of the scaffolding to point at the giant. It was at this moment that he tumbled off the scaffolding, his leg finally being able to take no more, buckling at the knee. Rhoach laughed all the way to the ground until he made impact in front of Glok'tur, sending up a huge cloud of dust and losing consciousness.

2004-05-23 03:14:13 Rhoach was dreaming. In his dream, his human foster father had grown to immense proportions, and was in the process of trying to crush Rhoach with his ironshod boots. There was a sound, as well, in the distance. It sounded like horns... horns... HORNS! Rhoach sat up swiftly in his humble open air cot on the fringes of the skullcrusher encampment, reflexively drawing and brandishing double scimitars that had been laid at his sides during his slumber. By the gods, battle? Rhoach thought fervently to himself. And I haven't even had my afternoon piss. A low ranking orc, a peon, like Rhoach, tore by, screaming something about 'elbzies' in the clan dialect Rhoach still wasn't totally comfortable with, even after years of learning it. A second later, the orc fell dead, an elven arrow suddenly protruding from his throat. Rhoach quickly scooted off and hid under his cot, clad only in his loincloth, glancing alertly left and right. Rhoach's large trollish nose twitched. An elf was very close. He saw before he heard the soft leather boot silently press into the dirt, scarcely ten feet from his cot. A night elf, a male, knelt over the body of the fallen orc, making sure he was dead, then moved on to inspect Rhoach's cot. Rhoach cursed his habit of sleeping outside the usual cluster of the rank-and-file peons, making a mental note to remember the old adage of safety in numbers. The boots of the elf stopped two feet away from Rhoach's face. The cot completely hid Rhoach's body, but something wasn't right. Rhoach could smell the elf's tenseness, its caution. Rhoach's nose twitched again, smelling... what was that smell? Rhoach's brain screamed an alarm as the scent was recognized, the scent of cold steel. The large, lithe troll rolled to the side just as an elvish blade came crashing down where Rhoach's heart had been seconds before. Instead of a fatal blow, the sword pierced Rhoach's shoulder. Rhoach grimaced in pain and hate as he reached out and seized the elf's booted foot. Rhoach twisted and pulled. The blade was wrenched from Rhoach's shoulder as the elf was drug to the ground. The elf was yanked underneath the cot, where Rhoach would have a better chance of overpowering it. Rhoach and the elf grappled back and forth with the blade the elf held, but in the end, Rhoach's superior strength won out in the close quarters. Rhoach pinned the elf's hands while he bit deeply into the elf's neck. Purple blood gushed out in great gouts, letting the troll know that he had hit his target: the jugular. The elf's struggles quickly ceased, its body growing still within the space of a minute. Rhoach studied the body in the dim confines of the space underneath the cot while he let his shoulder heal itself. Already, the trickle of blood from the wound had stopped, thanks to trollish regeneration. Rhoach felt grateful for his heritage at that moment, though he had cursed it many times before. In the sunlight shining through the gash in the cot the elf's sword had made, Rhoach recognized light armor, even for an elf, a bow, and only the small sword the elf had tried to end Rhoach's life with. Hm, Rhoach thought. A scout. "Better get to others before main force arrives," Rhoach muttered to himself. Risking a glance from underneath his cot, Rhoach spied Uglutz hurrying along a trail towards a tight cluster of Skullcrushers. Rhoach growled at the thought of the ridicule he suspected he would receive upon arriving almost completely naked at the gathering point, but there was no time to dress himself properly. "Heh, not living with "oomies" anymore, Rhoach," he reminded himself. Rhoach grabbed his scimitars and their scabbards, took one last glance around, and rolled out from under his cot. Stealthily making his way from tree to tree, he made his way towards the gathering of his fellow clan members, hoping that there'd be time soon to relieve himself. He still really had to piss.

2004-03-26 18:28:23 Darkness crept over the mountain hills of Gre’goth pass. The impending storm blocked all attempts by the sun to shed light over the blighted land. Thunder boomed in the distance, foreshadowing the downpour of rain to come. Uglutz pulled his man-skin cloak tighter in a vain attempt to keep the cold wind out of his bones. Tired and hungry, he picked a spot to set up camp beneath a large glade of everwood trees. Hours later, a small campfire provided warmth as Uglutz ate the few rabbits he could find raw. The glade of everwood provided little shelter from the rain, as the fall season had already claimed most of the covering foliage the trees could provide. The flames of the campfire danced about, as if attempting to dodge the impending assault of rain. It would not be long before the flames would lose its battle with the wind and rain, and dwindle away. Sitting down below one of the great everwood trees, Uglutz propped his staff across his lap, and closed his eyes for some much needed rest. Thunder continued to boom overhead relentlessly, magnified by the glade of trees in an almost endless echo. Evening past into the pitch blackness of night. The small campfire had lost its battle against the rain, leaving only a few dimly lit embers of its memory. The thunderstorm had passed taking most of the rain with it. Only a small sprinkling of rain continued. The sound of metal armor clanking against itself and boots trampling through mud began to pierce the still of the glade, though the night masked their approach. Seeing the dim embers of the fire, the convoy changed direction towards where Uglutz slumbered. The two heavily armed knights stood directly in front of the slumbering orc with swords drawn, examining him with great scrutiny. It would be an easy kill for the experienced warriors, and orc ears gave at least two crowns in any village. “Wake up horde slime!” stammered one of the knights as he pointed his sword in the orc’s direction. Without so much as stirring, the orc continued to snore mildly beneath the tree. “Here now orc! Awaken so you might see the means of your dispatch!” sneered the other knight, growing impatient. Uglutz opened one eye to examine the two men and ceased his snoring. “Gu way. Leeb me be. Me sleep,” replied Uglutz. Without so much as another word, the grizzled looking orc closed his eye, and returned to his snoring slumber. The two knights looked at one another, with something between a laugh and a curious expression on their faces. The orc must have been mad! No matter, they would dispatch him in his sleep if need be. Taking a step closer to the orc, the two knights raised their swords. This time, both of the orc’s eyes shot open. In only a second, both knights were frozen in place as vines from the earth grappled around their feet, prohibiting their advancement to the orc. “Lat nub leeb me be. Wuy lat hab tu wayk me?” growled the orc as he continued to sit beneath the tree. Rising to his feet, the orc lifted his staff to the sky, the black crystal adorning the staff’s top appeared to generate some sort of light. Franticly trying to cut themselves free of the vines, the knights began to panic. It was to no avail. Uglutz swirled his staff in the air in a circular motion, and then dropped it to the ground with a thud. Strangely, a loud boom of thunder hit at precisely the same time the orc’s staff touched the ground. Moments later, two great bolts of lightning shot out from the heavens to strike the vine grappled knights where they stood. Uglutz sneered as the smell of burnt manflesh filled the air. The first rays of the morning sun began to peer over the horizon, illuminating the glade. Uglutz crouched over the newly set flames of the campfire, and bit deep into the charred leg bone of the dead knight. Ripping a large piece of burnt flesh off in his mouth, Uglutz chuckled to himself, “Dis be bedur dan dat lil wabit. Dem tupid oomies shuld nub hab wayk me.” Stacking the remnants of the knights armor and weapons near the campfire, Uglutz put the remaining body parts of the men in his sack. Rubbing his full belly, he continued on the trail through Gre’goth pass, humming quietly to himself with content.

2007-03-11 06:28:26 Piper rolled over onto her back, staring up at the shadows on the wooden ceiling of her bedroom. Something had been bothering her since earlier that evening, so the luxury of sleep had not yet found her. She sighed, shifting to her right and sitting up in one fluid motion, resting her hands in her lap. She looked down at the green sandals on the floor in front of her and slid them onto each clawed foot in turn. The rat-girl stood with some effort, yawning sleepily before gazing out her window for a moment, watching the reflections of moonlight dance on the water outside. She smiled a bit at the sight, finding comfort in its serene beauty; but her awe soon faded, and the smile along with it, as she remembered why she had gotten up in the first place. She took a few steps toward the door, then cringed and flattened her ears as the floorboards squeaked beneath her. Not wanting to wake Thom, whose room was on the next floor down, she chose her steps carefully. She opened and closed the door so slowly that it felt like the process took an eternity, but at least it hadn't made any noise. Shuffling toward the garden, she parted the drape of vines hanging from the archway, and immediately a cold nose poked her in the forehead. Piper couldn't help grinning as she raised a hand to cover her face, shielding herself from a barrage of licks from her whining cu sidhe. "Aodhfin, shh!" she scolded quietly, stifling a laugh. She gently took hold of his muzzle and whispered, "Thom's trying to sleep, you know." Aodhfin's tail-wagging ceased and he grumbled a bit, turning in three circles before finally curling up in the garden's grass. Piper took a seat on the bench next to the disgruntled animal, trying to look very serious as she nodded to him. "Thank you, sir." His tail wagged a few times, though weakly; he must have been tired too, she judged. Piper shifted in her seat, wrapping her arms around herself as a light snow began to fall. "I'm afraid I can't sleep tonight either, boy," she confessed, extending a hand to scratch her pet's ears. She sighed and stared glassy-eyed as snowflakes lighted on the petals of some poppies before her. "It's just that... well..." She paused to blink. "I'm concerned about something... or rather, someone." The breath from her words turned to mist, rising skyward before fading away into the night. <hr> She recalled the events leading to her sleeplessness. Since Galehaven Tavern was still in ruins from the explosion, Bear opened the tavern in the bottom floor of his home so people could still come together over a few drinks. While Piper never drank anything stronger than water, she came with Thom; the ditzy barmaid Daniel'le was there as well, along with Bill and James. She and Thom announced to the room their intent to wed, and congratulations were spoken; though she was saddened to hear Bill wouldn't be attending. There were the typical teasing questions about when children would arrive, and Thom and Piper could only say there would be none. Bill's demeanor changed instantly as he said that was their choice. Piper was fully aware that he had to know just as well as they did that there was no choice in the matter. He seemed uncharacteristically distraught, but didn't want to speak to Piper about it. Still concerned, she reasoned that the tavern probably wasn't the best place for such a conversation anyway. Bill attempted to leave once, and Thom followed him upstairs. Several minutes passed and Piper grew curious as to where Thom had gone. After a brief search, she found him out front with Bill. From their expressions and behavior, it seemed the two had been involved in a serious discussion until she'd come upon them. Piper told Bill that since he left, Daniel'le had thrown a terrible crying fit, thinking she wasn't his favorite barmaid anymore. This convinced him to come back inside for a while longer, but he still wasn't acting like himself. When Bill announced he would be leaving for the night, Piper accompanied him outside. There was something she'd wanted to tell him, but she was far too shy to mention it in front of everyone else at the noisy tavern. She stood at the bottom of the stone steps and looked down at her feet sheepishly, barely summoning the nerves to speak. "Well, since I don't have anyone..." She hesitated for a moment. "Since I don't really have anyone, I... I was going to ask you to walk me down the aisle." Her eyes still focused on the ground before her, she continued, "I know you can't be there, but... but I wanted to tell you anyway." Only a few words were exchanged in the moments that followed, and feeling an air of awkward tension, she judged the time was as right as any. "Now, what were you upset about earlier?" She finally looked up as a somber Bill began to speak. The creak of the front doors took the two by surprise, and they turned to see Daniel'le approaching them with an ever-bright, childlike smile on her face. "Ready to sleep with me, Bill?" Daniel'le chirped, naive to the connotation of the phrase. Piper blinked, obviously taken aback by the question. Bill faced Daniel'le, who seemed to be waiting with the anticipation of a child whose parents are letting her have a slumber party. "Ye need ter choose yer words better, lass," he advised as he shook his head, unable to keep from smiling at the innocent girl. He had nowhere else to sleep, so Daniel'le offered him a bed in a room at the guild's museum. Since he had to leave with Daniel'le, Bill's previous conversation with Piper came to an early close. "Ask yer lad. 'E'll tell yer the rest." Piper nodded, and having nothing more to say, the three bade each other goodnight. <hr> Later the same night, Piper and Thom sat on the benches in their garden, where they'd often go to converse in their spare time. After chatting for a while, Piper looked over to Thom and asked, "What was wrong with Bill earlier? He was going to tell me, but Daniel'le came outside while we were talking, so he said to ask you." "Yes, I was going to mention that," Thom sighed. "He says he knows that even if we wanted to, we'll probably never have children of our own. But we have already discussed that, and it does not matter to me." She nodded as Thom continued, "He says he knows what he did was wrong." Her ears drooped a bit in defeat. "I told him I don't blame him..." Thom nodded. "I know. But he says he won't be coming to the wedding because he does not feel like he belongs there." "Why is that?" Piper frowned, recalling what she had told Bill earlier about her desires for the wedding. "He says that being there would only remind you of what happened, and that you should be happy..." <hr> Piper softly patted Aodhfin's head, looking up at the stars and exhaling deeply. Her ears and tail had grown cold in the snow, but she hardly noticed. "I wish I could convince him not to feel such unnecessary guilt over what happened. I understand why he did it, and I don't blame him at all. When it's a matter of life and death, sometimes people just... they just have to do what they feel is necessary. He's still alive, and I'm still alright, really... just different." She tilted her head down and to the right, her brow furrowing as she shut her eyes to hold back tears. Sniffling a bit, a forced smile crossed her lips as Aodhfin awoke and looked up at her, concern evident in his expressive blue eyes. "I don't know why I'm disclosing my problems to you, anyway. Even if you did understand, I doubt you'd be much help, you lazy dog." Aodhfin sat up on his haunches and huffed, sounding quite insulted as a cold vapor escaped his open maw. "I guess that means I've outworn my welcome, hm?" She stood slowly to pluck an apple from the nearby tree and tossed it to the animal, whose eager teeth easily caught the fruit in midair. He flopped back down to the ground and steadied the apple with his forepaws, happily devouring his favorite treat. Once Piper returned to her room, she kicked off her sandals and fell back onto the bed, pulling the sheets up over herself as the cold finally set in. She drifted to sleep within the span of a few minutes, but her rest was soon troubled with unpleasant dreams. She twitched in half-consciousness, recalling in an instant the one memory she retained from childhood - the one moment that changed her forever. There she was again, in the dungeon of Exodus, watching and listening helplessly as a mage uttered strange, unfamiliar words of power. The spell was cast and a bright light wove around her, and then there were several seemingly endless moments of excruciating pain as her body transformed. Then all she could remember was the powerful light and the horrified expression on the face of the caster. The man she saw looking on in terror was a more youthful Bill, and before her eyes, he aged considerably to the man she now recognized as her ale-loving friend. The words of power he recited changed to something else - changed to a confession he had once made to her. Guilt was the reason for his drinking - guilt over what was done to Piper and the others back in the depths of that dungeon. He couldn't forget the faces of the dead, and neither could he forgive himself for impacting this little girl's life in such a traumatic way. And Bill's words were true: not only did the the spell change her appearance, but the effects also rendered her sterile... Piper awoke with a start, a small yelp escaping her. She turned to find Aodhfin sitting up with his forepaws on the bed, nuzzling her clenched hand in an effort to quiet her. She rolled out of bed and knelt beside him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. Tears now flowed freely as the dream brought so many unpleasant feelings and memories back to the surface. She clung to her pet for some time, rocking back and forth in silence before the sudden outburst of emotion took its toll and exhaustion found her once more. Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she pulled herself back into bed and Aodhfin lay beside her on the floor. She let her arm dangle over the edge of the bed to stroke his ears, and - calmed by her pet's presence - steadily drifted into a restless, dreamless sleep.

2006-02-20 22:28:46 Mare jade Sky was born in a small house South of the city of the Cove. Jade Mother die at her bith an being that she was a girl her father did not want her. So he left her wrap in a blank on the front door of a young widow mother of two, but little did Jade father know that the young women was a High Elf Mage(Pearl) who as cast out because she loved an marrid a Humman warlord of the tribe of the moon. As Mare grow in to a young she was trand in to the craft of a mage an lernd it very well, but one day as she was play with one of the widow childer Kat. When a necro mage cast a spell an all lost killed her an her friend. Kat was badly wond an screaming for her mother Pearl came runing out the Necor had walk throw a gate with Jade Many years later after Mare Jade was take Kat found her wonder around the with the skills of both a mage an necor, but something had chang with Jade. She didn't want to talk to anyone an still dose talk a lot, but can to this day see the pain an sadden in her eyes an Know one has figer out to help her. Maybe you can. Maybe you can't, but you all can try. I do wish to the best of luck trying

2006-01-04 12:24:02 Gabriel was born in a tower east of Skara Brae with his mother and father. Gabriel's parents were great bards. From birth he was raised around music until the age of 17. His parents were sailing on their way into Skara Brae. They were stopped and murdered by pirates. Gabriel never knew what had become of his parents for they never returned home nor did their boat. Gabriel became lonely in the empty tower and set forth into the woods. He began to make friends of animals and woodland life. He would play music for them and learn to protect himself. Gabriel group up in the woodlands until he was 63. He only knows his woodland life and swore to protect the forest at all costs.

2006-12-14 20:38:44 Daughter to unknown parents but found many years later to be an Azturanian child.Charlie was born in Skara Brae,alone through her childhood years and learning to fend for herself.One day while in Skara she found an absolutely beautiful sword,a katana,and she began to watch the traveling warriors ,practicing to become like them.She went out to travel the world slaying the monsters that plagued the innocents of Sosaria.She became a master of swords always carrying her katana by her side. Many phases of the moon pass and years go by she had married Kendarick and had a child with him by the name of KitnBoo, and Charlie at the time was part of a guild which she loved as her own family.Unfortunately times were very hard at that time and she sadly had to leave the guild who was part of her heart. As more time passes she meets Kodoz many times around Sosaria,at the time he was pretty much all that was left to PGoH and he constantly asked her to come back but her heart was broken,Kendarick which she had thought was killed in a battle long ago to avenge his family and she wasnt sure what she wanted to do.At the times of Kodoz' asking her to come back she was in her friends guild ,and as all know Charlie is loyal to everyone. She kept thinking of how she wasnt going to watch the guild so long known as PGoH die out.She sent a pigeon to the owner the Pater Imperium Borg and asked to give someone new the title of Emperor since Logan had left. So he decided to make Charlie and Kodoz Emperor and Empress. Kodoz and Charlie had long talks of history of the guild and in the cave of Frostflame,the most odd of all places, a love was formed with the two and they later became husband and wife and has so far had two children Galen and Karly of their own and adopted Robert Eboneye and Marina.

2004-01-13 15:30:39 Kodoz awoke with a start from his slumber. Something was terribly wrong. As he looked around he realized perhaps his journey had come to an end. He had waited at the Teleportation Dais for three days, muttering words of power and cursing the seemingly useless dais. But after he fell asleep on it, he awoke in a different place. He looked down at where he was, and saw a teleportation Dais, but it was obviously the one the first was linked with. With newfound determination, he stalked forward. As he walked further into the ancient castle, he neared a room from which he heard very faint sounds, sounds of battle, of everyday life, and of death. When he opened the door he did so with his kryss drawn and ready. Nothing could have prepared him. A single chair sat in the room. Laying around it were several shards, seemingly of crystal, that each had within them a duplicate but different world. He searched the area for any kind of Tome or ancient text that would explain these things and could not find one. As he searched the rest of the great castle, he found a reeking corpse at what appeared to be a spell room, and inspecting it he found what the cause of death was. A stab wound to the front of his body. After searching the area and finding nothing else he returned to the crystal room. He went to pick up one of the shards, and suddenly fell into a hole. Flailing and yelling, he fell and fell until finally he hit the ground. Hard. Then it all went black. As he came to he realized he was in a bed, and did not have his weapons or armor on. He rushed around looking for them, and found a single locked chest and tried to open it but to no avail. He heard a voice and whirled around to see the door open, and a young lass walking in the door. He knelt before her in respect, and asked her where this was. "You are on the outskirts of the town of Yew stranger." "No, what I meant is what is this place?" "Its a house silly" Kodoz sighed, and realized he probably wouldn't get any more information. She went on to say he had been unconscious for a full week, and Kodoz asked for his armor and weaponry. She unlocked the chest, and Kodoz armed himself. Suddenly, A Juka Lord and Two Juka Mages burst in, and the mages paralyzed Kodoz, while the Juka lord made off with the maiden, who was screaming for help. By the Time the paralyzation wore off, they had already disappeared through a gate, and Kodoz Leapt into the gate as it closed. Falling and tumbling out the other side of the gate, he materialized in the Middle of Yew, or as it seemed today, Juka Town. He could still hear the Lady screaming, although hed already lost sight of her. The Juka were stunned for about a second thinking what kind of suicidal fool would follow them to their base. In that second, Kodoz Hurled a dagger at two of them, catching each in the throat, and then stabbed a third before they all clambered on top of him. Even Though it was hopeless, Kodoz felt that he would at least make a good showing of himself. Bound and unarmed he was dragged into the former town hall, mumbling through his gag at the Juka all the way. He saw the maiden in the back, in a cell, reserved for Yew's criminals. Kodoz saw a bit of a twinkle in her eye, but didn't understand. She winked at him once, and he tried to ask her something, but was kicked in the ribs for his effort. The juka stood him up, and brought him before their leader. "What kind of Foolish Human art thou to follow us to our headquarters? Did you really think you had a chance? Or were you out to save my newest human toy?" With that he snapped his fingers and had the guards bring her out. The Juka walked up to her, and openhandedly slapped her. Kodoz Raged against his bonds and captors, furious at this unwarranted attack. "Ort Por Ylem" the maiden cried out, knocking aside Kodoz' captors and releasing him from his bonds. Kodoz grabbed one of the Jukan Staffs and beset upon the ones holding the maiden, and knocked one out before their leader gave him a kick in the left arm so strong it made it numb. Kodoz knew they had one chance. With his arm numbed, he swung full force at the other captors throat and with a gurgling scream the guard holding the maiden crumpled to the ground. "An Por" the maiden cried, locking the doors to the area. Now it was a Mage and a half able warrior against the Yew Jukan Leader. As Kodoz used his single good hand to stave off blow after blow the maiden continually fired off spells at the Jukan leader, and finally he fell. With a final spell she opened a gate back to her house, and Kodoz went through with her. When he asked her what her name was, she laughed and replied it was Lora DeBlood. She also said she was a tamer, not a mere mage, but didn't have time to retrieve her pets during that fight. Kodoz then went on his way, but that was not the last Lora had seen of Kodoz or that Kodoz would see of Lora.

2004-01-12 14:39:12 The cold of the night began creeping its way through my bones and joints as I continued to climb the mountainside. I stopped my ascend for a brief moment to catch my breath. I had begun the long climb up the mountain in the early morning hours, and now, it was well into the night. It took nearly every ounce of magic within myself to sustain my agility for the treacherous climb. Yet, even my magic did not seem to keep the need for sleep from my body. As I reached the summit, I collapsed in exhaustion. I remained on my back for several minutes, staring into the moon and questioning my journey. I had nearly attained the status of master of my art of magery. Master Kelegan had informed me that he could no longer teach me in the arcane arts, that I had already learned the depth of his magic. He told me that I would need to consult another master if I was to further my studies. I was nearly heartbroken, for I had spent most of my life with my master, and I considered him part of my family. It had been nearly a year since I had left my master in pursuit of a greater magic. I had had no luck so far. I had roamed the countryside as a vagabond for most of that time, going from city to city in search of one who would be able to instruct me further. I had nearly given up my quest for knowledge, when, in a dream, I had a vision of an enormous castle that sat upon a mountain in the middle of the ocean. Some strange power seemed to guide me to this mountain island as if a compass was embedded in my mind. The journey to the island was long and toilsome. I was forced to journey the rest of my travel alone in a small fishing boat, since none of the ship captains would venture further into the black sea. Regaining my breath, I stood up to gaze upon the tall marble structure that stood only a few hundred yards ahead of me. In all my travels, I have never seen such a magnificent castle. I gazed upon the castle in awe, wondering how many craftsmen it would take to create such a marvelous home. I began to walk towards the great marble doors of the castle. Stepping slowly, I reached the doors. As I reached my hand up to the door they swung open. It appeared someone was waiting for me. I stepped into the large foyer, and began to look around. Large black stone columns reached from the floor to the ceiling. The ceiling of the foyer was domed-shaped with a mural of dragons in flight painted on it. I walked past the foyer as the doors slammed shut behind me. As the doors closed, torches along the walls began to ignite, as if wishing to lead me down one of the castle's hallways. I began to follow the light of the igniting torches down the hallway. The torches continued to ignite leading me down different hallways and rooms within the castle. It seemed as if I had been walking for hours, walking down the winding corridors following the torches. Then, the torches stopped at a set of doors that must have been thirty feet tall. Once again, the doors swung open to allow my entrance. As I gazed inside the enormous room, I suddenly felt fear. Sitting atop a large pile of furs was an enormous black dragon! A few spells of protection began to stream into my mind as the deep blue eyes of the black beast looked upon me. The dragon lifted its mighty head and spoke. "I bid thee greetings Sir Mage, for I have been expecting thee. I have no doubt thy journey was a long and tiresome adventure. Please, come forward and rest thyself." The voice of the beast was warm and inviting, but I had never encountered a dragon before. I only knew of them from stories and fairy tales. Yet, from the stories I heard of the magnificent creatures, I knew they were devious and incarnatly evil. I continued to prepare a spell of protection from flame in my mind. "Thy magic would do little to protect thee Sir Mage, for if I hath wanted you dead, you would surely be in the abyss already. Now, come forward and sit." The dragon's calm and soothing voice soon quenched my fear, and I walked forward to sit in a large throne beside where the dragon perched. I felt extremely awkward in the black beast's presence, yet, in the back of my mind, I somehow knew this was right, as if I had always known this creature, and of my future. As I looked into the great black dragon's eyes, I couldn't help but think to myself that I was looking into a mirror. I sat in conversation with the dragon for some time, learning of its rich life and history. As the night turned into day and back into night, the dragon ceased its story telling and began to question me. "What do ye seek from me Sir Mage? I am no more than a frail dragon whose life is on its last stretch." I answered the question quickly, " I merely seek a teacher to further my studies in magic. I know not why I ended up here with you great dragon, but the stories I have heard of your kind leads me to think that there is no one with more knowledge in the arts as a dragon. I was led here by some force of which I do not know, but I am sure our meeting is nay a coincidence." The eyes of the dragon suddenly lit up at my comment. Its lips curled into a smile as it spoke. " Ye are correct Sir Mage, my kind is the greatest of the spell casters within the realm, and I better than most. Though I have not taken an apprentice in some time, I have never instructed a human before. Yet, such things are not unheard of. I will teach ye what I know Sir Mage, but for a price. I have all the worldly possessions one could hope for. I only ask of ye one favor, which I will ask of ye further in time. If you would agree to honor my future request, I will instruct thee." I pondered over the dragon's offer. What could the dragon want from me? My life? With its power, the dragon could easily do away with me. No, there is something else it wants. I stood up straight and looked upon the dragon. "On my honor dragon,it be a deal." And so began my studies with the great black dragon that's name I came to learn was Verrchang. For years, I studied with the dragon. Each day I was taught the ancient powers of his kind. I was also taught the magic of other races. The elves, gargoyles, orcs, druids, and many other races, some of which no longer walked the land. The dragon instructed me the use of storing a magical spell on an object, where its power could be called upon at a later time. The most frequently used objects were dead rats and lizards, even bats. During my eleventh year of living with the dragon, Verrchang came to me with a very solemn look one eve. In the form of a human, Verrchang entered my chambers within the castle. "Martok, my time on this realm is ending. I regret there is not more time. Please, come with me." I followed Verrchang through the corridors to the castle. We stopped at the courtyard in the center of the great castle. Verrchang looked up at the night stars as he returned to his normal form. " The gods gave my kind great power when we were created. Perhaps the greatest gift to us was the gift of knowing of when our time ends. I can feel eternal darkness creeping through my body. This is my last night in this realm. Our eleven years together is but only a few days in my lifespan, but it has been some of my most joyous years my friend. Now, I must ask of ye the request we had agreed to." I looked upon my master and friend with teary eyes. I had great respect and admiration for Verrchang. It pained me greatly to know he was dying. I wiped the tears from my eyes and nodded. " What is it you would ask of me friend?" "My kind is happy to return to the vast skies of the heavens when they die. I cannot help but think there is so much more for me here. I do not wish to die. I wish to live on, for many more years, and there is so much more for you to learn. Perhaps we can achieve both our ambitions?" Verrchang had a look of hope in his eyes as he spoke. As the seconds passed by, I could actually see my friend age in front of me. "How can this be done? Is it possible for you to cheat death?" I became curious at his words. Is such a notion possible? " Indeed it is. There is one spell I know of, the binding ritual. The binding merges two entities into one. Both entities cease to be as they were, but form something new. Both their power, their thoughts, and their very being merges into one. This is what I ask of ye my friend, to bind with me into one." Verrchang's skin began to lose its black shine. His eyes seemed to grow tired. I had to make a decision fast. I never would have imagined such a request when I made my deal with the dragon. Yet, I gave my word of honor. How could I refuse him? Yet, I did not want to lose myself. I did not want to become something else. Yet, the power would be immense. I reached a decision; I would merge with the dragon. Verrchang seemed to understand my thoughts. He lifted himself high and placed his enormous paw upon my shoulder. He began to speak the incantation to a spell. His words were in the tongue of his kind. Our bodies began to emanate a blue light. The light grew brighter until nothing else could be seen but light. I felt my body begin to unravel; yet there was no pain. As my thoughts began to grow to a halt, I heard Verrchang's voice, " Thank you." A swirling ball of blue light floated in the middle of the courtyard. Within the light swirled the image of a dragon, and the image of a man. Then the light exploded. A man was lying on the ground. I sat up, and looked down into a puddle of water. It was me, but yet it was not. It was the same human form, yet with different features. My skin turned a tad bit darker, almost as if it was the shadow of Verrchang‘s shimmering black scales. My eyes appeared to be a deep ocean blue color. And then came the voice in my head. The voice of Verrchang! "The binding is not yet complete, for our minds have not yet become one. My body was too frail and old to be reborn, but yours is yet young and full of life. Let us go to slumber. Whence we wake, we will truly be one." I walked back to my chambers to lie down for sleep. As I shut my eyes I began to regret my decision. The voice spoke, " Worry not my friend, for when we wake, your doubts will be gone. Now let us sleep." Within a few seconds, I was asleep. The dawns light crept its way upon the face of a man in his bed, waking him. The man stood up and walked to the window and peered out. A smile crossed the man's face. As he stretched his dark tinted muscled arms, he spoke in a deep, powerful voice. " And so begins my new life!"

Hi all, PGoH.org has been moved over to the new host last night. Thank you.

Unpinning topic. I doubt this is accurate any more.

You can still pre-order!

Skullcrusher Orc Clan Recruitment Posters.

It appears that there was an issue with suPHP on the server. After the the binary was replaced, the sites began working once again.

Lol!

Did you join on http://www.swtor.com/guilds/210146/vigilance ?

Thanks for the info! I'm looking at Thanksgiving weekend/Cyber Monday, so hopefully the new I7's will be out by then to push prices down.

I created this image for a WoW wallpaper contest back in the day. This is not the final image with borders. It took about 25 hours to render.

A comedy piece that I made back in 2004.

I made this back in 2005 in poser.

Looks like they changed the world wide release to the 20th for everyone.

I didn't think about the air flow. Let me know what you start specing out for the system. I've been making 'wish lists' on newegg. Current setup: ALIENWARE FULL-TOWER GREEN CASE 1.5 AMD ATHLON 64 FX-53 1MB CACHE 939-PIN 2x WESTERN DIGITAL RAPTOR 74GB SATA 10K RPM 8MB HD LITE-ON 52/32/52 DVD/CD-RW COMBO DRIVE BLACK PLEXTOR PX-712A 12X DVD±R/W DRIVE - BLACK CREATIVE SOUND BLASTER AUDIGY 2 ZS 7.1 PLATINUM PRO BFG GEFORCE FX 6800 ULTRA 256MB