I’ve put all my Azeroth stories on one blog, here.
Cheers, Dean
“… and it was called evolution, plants and animals developed, through a progression of changes, characteristics that ensured their survival – in short, survival of the fittest.”
View read these words out loud to us … words written in a text so ancient that it required magic to hold it together, lest it crumble to dust at the slightest breath. Nine of us stood in a half-circle around the owner of the magic-bound tome, and the pedestal that held it.
“My friends, it seems but yesterday when more than a score of us stood in this very room and pledged a childish allegiance to each other that we would venture forth into the world to make it a safer place for the Horde. As diverse as we were, coming from different races and classes, we nonetheless held common goals and ideals, which have carried us through to this day.”
“Indeed, as we quietly contemplate the loss of our fellow comrades, who have fallen in our battles against the enemies of the Horde, and to deceit and treachery, we also celebrate the good fortunes of those remaining. Those of us gathered here today are the strongest, and the fittest, to have survived thus far.”
“As most of you will know, the time will soon be upon us when the gates of will be opened once more, and we shall go forth to face our ancient foes yet again. Truly, this will be a battle of monumental proportions, indeed, for our very survival … and only the fittest shall survive.”
“It is with this in mind, that I have called you here, to this hallowed chamber where we first began our adventures, to announce the formation of the guild that that quite rightly describes our ethos, Evolution.”
Raising his hand for silence, View continued: “I do not ask this of you lightly. As you well know, committing to a guild can be an onerous task, not suited to all. However, I believe that we have the skills, and most importantly, the temperament to make this dream a reality. We represent the full spectrum of the Horde : Orc, Undead, Tauren, Troll, Warrior, Priest, Shaman, Druid, Rogue, Warlock, Mage and Hunter.”
“Our bonds of comradeship, forged in the heat of battle, and tempered in the coolness of sorrow, will enable us to withstand the titanic forces that will bear upon us in times to come.”
Sweeping his penetrating gaze at our thoughtful faces, View stretched forth his sword arm, hand barely touching the magical barrier that protected the scared text. “With my blood, breath and life, I pledge my unending allegiance to thee.”
One by one, the rest of us stretched forth our arms, Tauren hand upon Orc, Troll upon Undead, ten hands clasped in unity, to unleash against the foes of the Horde the forces of Evolution.
—excerpt from the journal of Demonlord Moroz Deathbringer, historian
Enchanting …. a deceptively simple profession that is actually a combination of 2 skills: disenchanting (which extracts magical components from magical items), and enchanting (which is the knowledge of how to imbue items with a specific enhancement).
Enhancements may be on armor, ranging from stats boosts (stamina, strength or agility boost to boots and gloves), to outright health boosts (+100 hit points being the most favored for chest items), to more subtle enchants such as increase in mining or skinning skills (gloves) and riding speed (boots).
Weapon enchantments typically increase the damage from the weapon, sometimes directly (+ damage) or indirectly (+ strength, which in melee classes, increase damage output).
Whichever enchantment you get, choose wisely, because only one enchantment can be place on each item at any one time. Some are “easy” enchants, requiring readily obtained dusts and essences, others can be harder, requiring either rare components, or sometime, even rarer formulas.
There does not seem to be a underlaying rationale in this art – as much as the recipes for the enchantments are already known, I lack of understanding about WHY the combinations of said ingredients produces such results. This troubles me, and perhaps one day I may unravel the “science” behind the magic.
Be that as it may, my enchanting services are available to all those who have the coin for it … or who can bring suitable items for trade. My best enchantments to date can be found here.
Arguably one of the more profitable professions, the mainstay of this skill is the ability to make bags of various sizes. While the larger bags (16 and 18 slotters) were hard to make, due to the rarity of the materials, 14-slotters are relatively easy to make and sell. These 14-slotters (Runecloth bags) are a staple money-maker for any tailor.
My skill with the needle – and I will poke your eye out with it, if you dare to say that needle point is only for the female gender – is second to none, having acquired the highest rank possible. Sixteen slot bags and Mooncloth clothes (providing stamina and intellect enhancements) are within my capability to make. What remains is to attain the proper patterns and materials to do so.
Some of these materials, such as Mooncloth, are so hard to acquire that the effort to produce them can sometimes drive one insane. It takes 2 Felcloths to make one Mooncloth – Felcloths are rare drops taken unwillingly off satyrs, who, of course have corrupted the items to the point where they have to be cleansed. Three days of rituals are needed in preparation of the cleansing, the final step involving immersion in a Moonwell. As these Moonwells are typically found in Night Elf dominated areas, this can be a hazardous business. However, the rewards are great for a determined artisan, whose products command princely sums at the great Auction Houses.
With the ascension of a great many players into the higher tiers, more and more “epic” items have become available on the market, so much so that items such as 16-slot bags have dropped in price considerably. Also, cloth armor doesn’t sell as well as more adventurers invade once-inaccessible zones.
The upside to this trend is that rare tailoring patterns are becoming available – I can for example, make felcloth bags, which are the best bags for a warlock’s soul shards that money can buy. Materials required are difficult to find, but well within the means of many of the great guilds.
My many useful hand-made products can be found here.
Orgrimmar is truly a city where all things can be bought … exotic foods, drink, women (or men) … and most prized of all, information. It was from the warlock trainer Kurgul, that I learned of a demon mount of superior speed and stamina. While he himself did not know the details of the spell that could summon such a mount, he did know of some one with that knowledge – Mor’zul Bloodbringer.
Even I had heard that name before – a human warlock, whom many considered to be insane. He was camped by the Alter of Storms in the Burning Steppes, his sole purpose seemly to be the study of the Alter, put there by the Burning Legion when they crossed over to Azeroth.
Getting to Mor’zul would be no easy matter, but as I was to find out later, this was the easiest part of my long quest. Through Kargath, and a short hop, skip and jump through the heated depths of Blackrock Mountain brought me to the Burning Steppes, where I began my perilous search for Mor’zul. While the area was massively destroyed, along with the legion, what remained of the infrastructure of the invading horde could still be seen, and used. Traveling to the furthest north-western part of the zone was no easy task, but the road, such as it was, provided me with relatively access. Of course, I had to dodge (or fight) the various obstacles along the way – dragonkin, elementals and the odd remnants of the Burning Legion.
At last, in a cul de sac, I found Mor’zul … and quickly realised why he had been driven mad. In his fortune (or misfortune) he had called forth a greater imp … Gorzeeki Wildeyes … and had been unable to dismiss him, for whatever reason. Now, an imp, like my Tarnam, was bad enough, even to one undead such as myself, but for a greater imp to be called by a human …. needless to say, the imp acted as much as a free spirit as a bonded imp could be. He had even set up its own laboratory right here in this gods-forsaken corner of the world.
I spoke at length with Mor’zul (not that I had a choice) – he must truly have been out in the wilds for the longest time – he talked non-stop and at length about a great number of things. Teasing out the information I needed, I realised that my quest for a better mount would take me across the world and acquiring items of such rarity that it boggled the mind:
- 30 bottles of Raging Beast’s Blood (from owlbeasts in Winterspring to use as ink for the summoning spell);
- Xoronthian Stardust (to infuse onto a parchment so that the spell could be written on it);
- Infuse a parchment with the Xorothian Stardust (done with the help of am imp in a jar) in the alchemy lab of Scholomance
- 35 Black Dragon Scales, which Gorzeeki would use to encase the Doomsday Candle
- 10 Elixirs of Shadow Power, for Gorzeeki to infuse into the Bell of Dethmoora
- 6 Large Brilliant Shards and 25 Dark Iron Ore, for Gorzeeki to fashion the Wheel of the Black March
- 3 Arcanite Bars, for Gorzeeki to make a Black Lodestone, which, using soulshards as a reagent, would power the Candle, the Bell and the Wheel
The Raging Beast’s Blood was easy for a warlock of my stature, if a little boring. A large concentration of the beasts could be found south of Everlook, and cutting through their ranks like a hot knife through butter, there was the added benefit of making some nice coin. Large Brilliant Shards were also easy, being an enchanter. All that was required was the acquisition of some poor sod’s rare magical item to be disenchanted.
Obtaining the stardust, however, was another matter. According to Mor’zul, the only entity on this plane with the stardust was Lord Banehollow, Chief of the Jaenedar sect in Feralas. Fortuitously, Gorzeeki had Shadowy Potions (at 6g a piece, the cutthroat), which enabled one to disguise himself as a Jaenedar sect member. Even then, Banehallow (as with most demons) demanded a service to be performed, for the “opportunity” to purchase the dust from him. Ulathek, a Jaenedar sect member in the employ of the demon I was to steal the steed from, was to be killed, and his treacherous heart brought to the Lord as a trophy. Easy enough except this traitor had friends (2, to be exact). Dispatching them was no walk in the park, but then again, there weren’t many parks in the area.
Having done the deed, I purchased the item I came for from Banehallow’s minion, Ur’dan, at a cost is 150g. I decided, with my hands still red with Ulathek’s blood, to cut Ur’dan’s throat, and bring down Banehollow himself. While no monies were gained from this act of treachery, it was indeed satisfying nonetheless.
Then it was off to Scholomance (with Gorzeeki’s minion – image that – a pet, with a pet), to “borrow” the use of the alchemy lab there to infuse the parchment. For the fun of it, instead of just using the lab of Ras Frostwhisper while he was otherwise occupied, I (along with the adventurers with me) killed Ras as well. At least some gains from this quest could not be measured in terms of gold *evil grin*.
The remaining items on the list required a combined effort of hard-bargaining at the Auction Houses and down-right begging from friends to get. Over the course of 2 weeks, I hit the Auction Houses daily, looking for the best bargains, and bugging my friends and acquaintances for Black Dragon Scales (obtained from skinning) and Dark Iron Ore (mining). The acquisition of Arcanite bars stumped me for a while …. until I met some old friends who had a store of Arcanite bars they could part with. Joy was when I managed to assemble all the items for the fabrication of the items for my quest … which was short-lived, however, as the cut-throat, double-crossing (and other unmentionables) Gorzeeki came out on top …. CHARGING me 250g for the fabricated items, from materials that I had collected!!
I was unsure if Mor’zul knew of the duplicity of his pet, and given his state of mind, I was unsure that, even if I told him, he would listen, much less understand. Accepting my fate, I parted with my money, and began the final phase of my quest.
(To be continued ….)
Orobette had traveled the length and breath of Azeroth, but one of her favourite places, atypical for an Orc, was Feralas. This heavily forested area was more suited to the shamanistic Taurens, indeed, they maintain Camp Mojache near the border with the Thousand Needles. Feralas boasted giant earth elementals and yetis in abundance – prime targets for an intrepid adventurer, but I suspect she favored the place more for the opportunities to partake in the bizarre ritual of sky jumping than for the adventure opportunities. Teleported to the top of the Twin Colossals, the only way down was to purchase a large blanket-like device, packed into a backpack, from the intrepid (some would call crazy) vendor at the top of the mountain. With this device strapped onto your back, you jump … yes, jump … off the side, count to 3 (assuming you can still count as your brain freezes in your plummet to the earth below), and pull the cord to release the blanket, which opens up to catch air and slows your descent. Some of my bones still litter the slope of the mountains, where, in my first (and so far, only) attempt at this, I smashed into the side of the mountain, even before I got to the count of tw……… Luckily I had prepared for this eventuality and had made arrangements for a resurrection (from a very amused Priest, who could only shake his head at the foolhardiness of the whole thing). Our sky jumping episode was made all the more hilarious because Oro had recently acquired a blazing shield, that shot out flares of fire. Surprisingly, the shield, strapped onto her back, didn’t burn up the “blanket”, and it made her look like one of those rocket things that the goblins like to make. I overheard a passing goblin, gaping in astonishment as he watched Oro make several more jumps, mutter something about “… making pigs fly”.
The vistas of Azeroth sometimes leave me speechless … from the wasted landscapes of the Blasted Lands to the tainted forests of Felwood … they all offer a view of the world that is ours to grasp, if we had but the gumption to do so. My other “View” of the world, was a warrior of many seasons. He was as generous with his help as he was with his even-handedness dealing death and destruction to those who stood against him. It was hard keeping up with him as he waded through hordes of enemies, leaving a wake of devastation behind him. For a while, he faded from my view (pun intended), moving on to more dangerous pursuits, but recently, we have linked up again, when he sponsored me into his guild, Evils Revenge. Together with other members of our guild, we have successfully raided various levels of Blackrock Mountain and Stratholme – hopefully more such raids will take place as we carve out mark on the world.
Kassanda was an undead female rogue I hooked up with in the Barrens – her acid-laced blades were only slightly sharper than her tongue. Oh, what temper she had! Like many of the adventurers I met along the way, she eventually dropped out of sight – and I suppose that is what any good rogue would do. But I’ll always remember our many adventures together in the Barrens, exploring the Wailing Caverns and making minced meat of the renegade druids, serpent-like naga and the deviates that resided there; slicing our way through the quillboars and “converting” the humans of Northwatch Hold, from the living to the dead … it was such a delight being with her.
Warlock magic quite different from other forms of magic practiced in Azeroth, and is one of two schools that can be considered as “dark” magic. While mage-magic (also known as elemental magic) is particularly spectacular and direct, the damage dealt to opponents by warlocks are of a more … insidious … nature. Mages are usually featured in the tales of bravado where the hero (or heroine, as the case may be), conjures up a cataclysmic firestorm or a massive fire ball that totally demolishes his (or her) enemies in one majestic display of arcane power. Alas, not so for the warlock, who works mostly in the shadows, with spells that slowly drain strength and health of your enemy, eventually reducing his effectiveness to retaliate.Not many people, Horde or Alliance alike, are comfortable around warlocks. Throw in the fact that my existence is owed to another school of dark magic (necromancy), people around you think the worse of you … which is probably not as bad as the reality. Aside from arcane and shadow spells, the warlock’s other weapon, for both defense and attack, is their unique ability to command demonic or elemental servants.
The control of demons comes at a high cost to most warlocks. I still bear the scars (not that it matters, in my current form) of my encounters with these nether creatures. There are two categories of “pets” that are at the command of a warlock. In the earlier stages of his discipline, the young warlock is taught to steel his mental resolve and by strength of will alone, to bend the will of the demon to his bidding. Later, as he grows in power (as I have), we learn the ability to control some demons and elementals that already exist in our plane.
The “tame” pets in a warlocks stable include the imp, which is the easiest to dominate, and is typically the first demon to be mastered by warlocks. However, they are a pervasive presence – incessantly bitching and undermining your character. It can be impossible to take, if warlocks were not already somewhat mentally unbalanced to begin with. An undead warlock, such as myself, is even more so, simply by virtue of our forced resurrection into this undead life.
The voidwalker is the next level of demon to be tamed. Used primarily as a tank, it is an excellent companion in both solo and group situations, when used correctly. It is also one of the easiest pets to maintain … it is silent (lacking a mouth), but, in line with its bulky physique, it is a bit thick skulled and dense intellectually.
The succubus is the epitome of female demon-ness (if such sexuality exists in the demon world). At once terrifying (horns and blazing eyes and forked tongue) and seductive (near-naked, curvaceous, to-die-for body), her mental powers make her a formidable opponent. A warlock is well advised to keep his … erhmm, desires … in check when wielding this potent weapon.
The felhound is the only other “animal”-like demon in a warlocks stable. While it is a faithful, obedient servant, with many characters of its “normal” counterpart, the dog or wolf, physically, it looks like a patchwork of creature parts sewn together. Club-like tail … snapping tentacles above it beady eyes … beak-like mouth and …. long, sharp horns. Especially effective against casters, this nether creature drains mana like no other.
The other “animal”-like demon that is indispensable to a warlock, is of course, his mount. The “fire-hooved” demon is easily distinguished from a normal horse by the fire emanating from its hooves.
However, the pinnacle of demonic control begins when the mental strength of a warlock is of sufficient power to control a demon or elemental that already exists in our plane. This is especially useful in encounters with more powerful beings of their kind. However, the warlock must be on his toes at all times, lest the controlled demon breaks free and wreaks havoc on its controller.
Whichever demon or elemental the warlock chooses, whether in a solo situation, as a member of a group, the warlock is a formidable force in the world of Azeroth.
In life, Moroz was a farmer. Struck by the undead plague that swept through Tirisfel Glades when the Lich King was at the height of his power, Moroz was to experience the un-life that was to his legacy thereafter. Awaking in the cold and dank crypt where his body had lain dormant the past months, his once handsome features now took on a cast of death and decay that defined those that had risen again as the undead. His confusion was eased somewhat by the forbidding presence of the cryptkeeper and various other undead leaders at Deathknell, who welcomed him into the ranks of what were called “The Forsaken”. His confusion, as his rotting brain sorted through the bits of information revealed to him, slowly gave way to an understanding of his narrow escape from a life worse then death – a life of eternal servitude to the Lich King. Thus, his one consolation over the appalling change that had overtaken him was that, in his re-birth, his will, strong when he was alive, was still his own.Once again offered the chance at “life”, such as it was, Moroz seized the opportunity offered by the Undead Queen Sylvannas. His pledge of loyalty to the queen, and to his Forsaken brethren, was to fight against all who stood in the way of The Forsaken. In choosing to become an initiate in the dark art of necromancy, Moroz cast aside his commoner upbringing, along with his family name (Smith), to take up the mantle of the demon lords of old.
Eventually, he was to earn the title Demonlord, and “live” up to his self-styled name of “Deathbringer”. His early days of training and his conquests are chronicled here in a series of semi-auto-biographical accounts.
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