Orc Quest; or, A Critical Examination of Agency Through in Interactive Fiction (Warcraft)

you know now that we have these fell orcs and they were near a portal wonder if they have any information on outland and kargaths fel horde unlikely but you never know after all they may not know about whatever the illdari are up to but might have some outdated knowledge of oh yeah theirs another pitlord on outland
 
I shall likely do a full infopost at some point, but for the moment, I'll just address a few points regaring Orcs and the Fel.

The definition of what is considered honorable may stretch. I think Thrall won one of his Mak'gora through magic?
He has two fights with Garrosh, and uses magic in both. In theory this might be permitted, however I think it's somewhat dubious. In the later duel they're clearly fighting with weapons then fists when they both lose theirs, and then Thrall is all 'lol im a wizard zap zap'. I seem to recall there's some implication that Thrall is sad about the Elements abandoning him after this, and doesn't get them back for a while, but I don't think it's explicit that he or the elements think he cheated.
If I had to guess from what's been presented through the story, they would make a distinction between an advantage gained through dishonorable means, and one gained acceptably.
But of course the Orcs, like other honor based cultures like the Klingons for example, have an extremely flexible definition of honour.
There is no inherent stigma about taking the Fel, as far as I can see
It appears not, which seems somewhat unusual. there's a bit of one about the 'looks' of the Fel I suppose because the Orcs who take it are green, but given that all the orcs are fel orcs now (or almost all), I suppose the ascetics of the race have changed, in a similar way to the tanned vs pale divide in time irl.
Grok makes his refusal a point of pride, but it's a very personal choice, and many would argue him on it, his father the first among them.
Indeed, but Grok is somewhat prevented from making it a political stance, because his father is indeed very felly. Grok is unable to honorable take a poltiical stance significantly different from his clan chief significantly. He can take a personal stance that he doesn't really want the Fel, but he couldn't denounce his father.
To drink the demon blood is to engage in a pretty difficult transformation of your body and soul. It can kill you. It's not like bam you get demon enhanced power. There's a cost to it.
Applicable to the phama comparison really. Drinking demon blood is one way of doing is, as if direct fel empowerment, as is just the standard fel exposure. That's why you get a variety of different forms of mutation, eg Broken vs Manari.
it is only recognized when it inconveniences the rest
There does seem to be a sort of critical mass at which fel warriors become quite inconvenient. As champions or shock troops great, but turning every single one of your people into them would be inconvenient yes
you know now that we have these fell orcs and they were near a portal wonder if they have any information on outland and kargaths fel horde unlikely but you never know after all they may not know about whatever the illdari are up to but might have some outdated knowledge of oh yeah theirs another pitlord on outland
I think the assumption we must make is that the portal doesn't work. Kel'thuzad got it working, but clearly it wasn't working before that point, and perhaps not afterward. There's also a question of to what extent Rend's Horde and the Alterac orcs are aligned with Kargath and Illidan, or with the Legion.
 
so what your saying is when asked who between the black dragonflight and the legion which is his master rend will answer yes :rofl2:
 
Alterac Final
Alterac Final
[X] Accept the Mak'gora

The Old Ways.

The Spirits danced and cavorted in the air around them, laughing and crying out from the stones.

The Wind rushed through the valley sending your hair flying, the tassels of your sword in flurry.

The Earth moaned under your feet, the rocks shifted and little pebbles rumbled down the mountains.

The Water stilled in pools and ponds, waiting…

And Fire rose in your heart, rose upon your blade, rose to meet a foe in combat.

The Old Ways, you knew them well and you couldn't help the grin from breaking out on your face as your sword seems to move on its own in salute and return.

"Glory to the victor!" you cried, "May it be done!"

Shouts and cries broke out all around you, jubilation at the duel, for surely a Mak'gora between Blademasters had not been fought in many years.

One of Haomarush's warriors sprinted away toward the army, and you sent another toward your smaller force. You could already hear the cries as your folk beat their chests, clashed axe against shield and cried aloud.

Mak'gora!

This was all you lived for. Skill and honour, to fight and perhaps to die, but to show your worth as a warrior, as a son, as a Blademaster.

Never forget your honour, Akinos had said. You'd carried that in your heard for two years, and you would for twenty more.

Mak'gora!

It was glorious. Two armies advanced, some at a free walk, others at a jog or a laughing run. They were cheering and you saw Sorek waving your banner for them to rally to you, but even when Haomarush's army closed in around your own you knew they had nothing to fear, and almost immediately conversation and wagers broke out between the two forces.

Orc should not war with Orc, the first Warchief, him of the unknown name, he who denied his own legacy, had set that law. But when orcs must fight, it must be by the Old Ways.

Here was an opportunity to fight as you wanted, to make war not knee deep in blood, not against the dishonourable Syndicate or the maddened centaurs, or even the dread Scourge. Here was truth and glory, worth and righteousness.

Haomarush was grinning too. He had been expecting your skill, and your heart swelled at it, that your reputation would precede you. He was a warrior, a Blademaster in the older form, and despite his Fel-swelled form, you perceived in him a kindred spirit.

Here again was a battle you'd gladly join. No more of your father's manipulations, or of Thrall's traps, here was the Mak'gora, here was purity in war.

"I do not speak the tongue." said Kalaran, "What in the Light's name is happening?" and you saw him looking around in genuine confusion.

You opened your mouth, then stopped. You realised with a start that you'd slipped into the older forms of your clan's language, into the almost poetic metre of challenge and reply, and you laughed at it.

"It's the Mak'gora." said Vark, and his eyes were bright too. "Good, good! A fine thing! You'll fight well, brother, I know it!"

"He'll be stronger than I am, but unbalanced, the Fel is stronger in him but less refined." Sesk explained, "Beware a bind, and look to draw him in, I think you'll have a better grasp over the Elements, but still be careful."

"What's this? What chances?" cried Scorn, running up in a hurry.

But your eyes were fixed on Haomarush. His own orbs of fire were unwavering. Then he nodded, passing a hand over his heart, then handing his sword to an attendant while he rid himself of his accoutrements.

"Sorek." you called, and you too handed over the Fireblade. You disrobed, removing the bannerpole at your back, then the leather harness and fur jerkin. You bend to untie your boots, knowing Myzrael would keep you sure-footed.

Some who followed your traditions would fight as Vark had in his own Mak'gora, naked and with only their fists and physicality to win. The Blademasters were different though, for it would be farcical for two Blademasters to wrestle on the ground without the weapons for which they were known.

"This is a foolish thing." grumbled Scorn. "A foolish thing indeed! There is a cause at risk here, and for what? Bring the mountain down on them."

"The cause is honour, and it is the highest of causes." you replied easily. You were falling into the trance of swordplay, you had trained in this and now it came upon you like a flood, you felt yourself slipping away…

Sesk had anointed you quickly with the signs of battle, and Vark was whispering advice in your ear, but you ignored them both, standing and stepping forward onto the stone.

It was broad and deep, you felt that in its soul. Whoever commanded the summit might have an advantage, but with your command over the Earth through Myzrael, and with Haomarush's ability to walk the Wind like Sesk did, you didn't know who would be better off.

The drums of the armies started up, horns sounded, and you both stalked forward. The first strike was yours, as it was ever for him who was challenged.

Haomarushstood assured, his shoulders back, his greatsword in the guard of claws, ready toward his feet. It was a strong position, but you favoured the Twin Suns, and bore your blade up, feeling the thrum of your blood as you struck.

The Fireblade burned and blazed, but up came Haomarush's own weapon and the blades struck in fury.

He had taken the blow willingly, you could feel that, and see it in his tusked grin. "A fine stroke." Haomarush muttered, just loud enough for you to hear, but you could already see him moving to bind you and you danced back, the other Blademaster deflecting your follow-up with another grin, "But let's see what else you know!" Haomarush laughed, rushing forward.

He was fast, as fast as you, faster even, and you felt the Air speed his step, his form blurring as he came on.

To strike thrice in a single second, that was the Blademasters' final test, and Haomarush did better. Five strikes he made in what seemed a single movement, and another four in the next second, his face becoming an unclear haze, such was the ferocity of his attack.

Here was Myzrael to aid you.

Here was the Warsight of your childhood.

Here was the Light to shield you.

Here was the Fireblade of your family.

You saw the strikes before Haomarush made them, Myzrael moved the earth beneath you to dodge or create the space to parry, you called upon the Light to sheath yourself in radiance so Haomarush's attacks would bounce off you, and where you couldn't your sword was there instead.

Your heart beat four times each second, your limbs burned, even so soon into the duel and your vision dimmed for a moment before you called on the Earth to strengthen you.

Haomarush had the advantage, and he pushed you forward with it, almost to the edge of the rock, till Myzrael reached out to shift the earth once more.

You struck, the Fire in your heart bearing down, summoning your fury at once, then on the counterstroke bringing it back into your heart where the Pure Flame purged it of malice.

Honour, here was honour indeed, for Haomarush struck again and again, and you took each strike and returned it. Haomarush threw fire, you held up a hand to absorb it into your blade, or cause it to dissipate against a brilliant shield. You called up pillars of earth to absorb the Blademaster's cuts, dodging even as his sword struck through the rock, scattering the field. You danced upon the stands, stepping from one to the next, and there Haomarush had the advantage again, running sideways on the air, in one moment leaping over you, in the next standing upside down to make a cut at your legs, only for you to drop below him so he had to leap from the air to the ground again.

You stomped your foot, the ground cracked and the mountains rumbled, Haomarush stumbling in his advance long enough for you to get a cut in, but he was still better than you, and as he fought he threw the earth's blood at you, molten rock up from the ground in goblets as large as your fist.

Any strike either of you made would be a maiming, such was the power of your blades, and though the duel wasn't to the death, you took any opening you could to gain an advantage.

You called Myzrael to grasp the blade as it came down at you, and grasp she did, a hand of rock assembling from the stone beneath you in a moment, tightening around Haomarush's sword. He kept hold of the handle though, looking vaguely offended, and instead took to the air again, using the stony fastness as a stepping stone to kick at you, two strikes against hand and blade, sending your own sword flying.

You were already drawing your long knife, and fire wreathed that too, even if you knew such a spell would destroy the small blade. You thrust at Haomarush and without his sword he bore the strike upon his shoulder, the blade sinking into his flesh, but his own fist came up against your belly, and then a sharp pain erupted in your shoulder as he drove one of his elbow spikes into your back.

You pushed him away, calling for your sword till it rose up in your hand, Haomarush shattering the stone around his own sword with another kick, muscles bulging and shining green for a moment as the Fel flowed through him.

It had been two minutes, perhaps three, and you'd barely time to draw breath, such was the explosive violence of the battle. There were breathing techniques to it, you knew them, and you forced them upon yourself now, even as Haomarush did the same.

Haomarush was resting to - but wait!

You had a split second, a second to feel the power he gathered, a second to bring your arm up, the Bracer of Myzrael toward the Blademaster.

And you saw his sword thrust through your heart.

That Haomarush still held his sword was the only reason you could stay standing. You could see the ruin of your heart, split around the Fel-Orc's blade.

"Well fought." Haomarush said softly, "But it is done."

The Fireblade was limp in your grasp, but you reached out to Haomarush, your hands upon his sword, trying to free it from your chest.

You saw the face of Akinos on the wind. You heard his voice. "You cannot kill an enemy. Only defeat them. And a warrior with his honour can never be defeated."

Haomarush made to unbind your fingers from around the hilt of his sword, made to stifle the cries of you warband.

But Akinos was there again, "Believe not in death, but in life."

Rise, Bearer, rise!

Akinos had commanded you to hold honour closer than anything, commanded you to be a Blademaster, not merely a weapon to kill.

And you had never forgotten that.

From your blood came a fiery blazon. It erupted form your chest, excising Haomarush's sword in a great burst.

You soul slipped form your body, exalting in the air, settling around your shoulders in a great convocation.

Haomarush stared at you blankly.

You stepped forward, a Pure Flame melting the stone beneath your feet. The stone cracked in ruin as you walked, the weight of your soul bearing down upon the world.

The Fireblade burned, and swept down. Now it was your turn, five strikes in a second, and Haomarush could only block two of them, the rest scoring his body cruelly.

Honour was all, skill was all. The Blademaster surged forward, and your soul was in your sword, and your sword in you.

Haomarush moved sluggishly, bleeding Fel-green blood from a dozen wounds as you drove him back.

Sunlight broke through the dark clouds, it split the mountains with it's radiance as you surged ahead, Haomarush barely managing to keep you away. But the advantage was yours.

Your struggle was in spirit now, for even as your own soul swelled and struck out with each attack, so too did Haomarush's darkness breach his skin. The Fel within him writhed before your fire, and a darkness entered his eyes, smoke and fume billowed from his sword, and each clash of weapons left little cinders of destruction in its wake.

You fought to the top of the stone tablet, you fought him upon the slopes and dancing over ravines which had opened all around you. You pressed him as he had pressed you, blow for blow, Light and Darkness.

The Fireblade leapt out for the last time, clashing against Haomarush's sword, and the later span away even as the Blademaster fell to a knee atop the pillar of stone.

Your sharpened soul was at his throat, and Haomarush looked up at you for a moment, looking into your shining eyes. Then slowly he bowed his head in submission.

"Well fought." you returned, lowering your blade. "But it is done."

The Fel-Orc smiled, panting as he gathered himself.

"It is done," he nodded, "and you are worthy indeed."




Arc ends!
+Demonsword Clan

Some incredible rolls here for anyone who wasn't following it. We had 3 rounds of combat, but not only a 100, but also a 1 there, so that was odd. Statistically fairly unlikely.

Skills gained:
Master Weapon Competency +25%, now 50% to next level for a duel against one of the finest combatants in the world.
Shamanism +25%, 25% till next level, for one of the most impressive magical duels the Orcish people have seen in recent years.

Spell gained: Soulfire: Through a means presently unknown, you can cloak yourself in a glorious fire to enhance all aspects of yourself.

Feat gained:

  • Mak'gora: You fought the most notable Mak'gora since Doomhammer and Blackhand, a duel which exceeded may others in the last twenty years in both significance and magnificence. Almost every Orc approves of the Mak'gora, and to defeat Haomarush Demonsword is also extremely impressive, cementing your status as one of the most skilled warriors in the Horde.

Next chapter will determine the next arc with a vote, similar to how we did a vote when you left Durotar. As such, indicate what sort of things you want to do. For example, you might say 'I want to go back home and duel Thrall' or 'I want to check out Desolace'. One of the options in the next chapter for example will be to take Dathrohan's offer and rule Alterac.

Also obviously general commentary on the chapter is nice.
 
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wait we have about 3,500 now correct so that means we almost match rend's 5,000 (I think thats what he had) or is that changed so he has more so thrall wont like how we almost have as many as him

Now for my thoughts- we beat someone who is a blade master and juiced up on super demons blood getting a large amount of fighters (thrall will not be happy)
I would like to stick around but I also want to see the trolls and maybe get zandalari to get involved much earlier since their fleet can do a lot
liked how not every orc wanted the mak'gora cause just like with these kind of duels in rl end up having risks of seeing your leader defeated.
 
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Ahahahahaha!

I want to build a bonfire and conference call Dad and Thrall, just to see the looks on their face when we tell them how complicated we're making everything by succeeding so hard.
 
*blinks*
We got stabbed in the heart and used it as a focus for a power-up the likes of which I think even Thrall could not gain say the how we did it.
A Blademaster's self-control married to the elemental might of a Shaman.
I don't think I even know enough WoE lore to understand the magnitude of this. Like this seems like the kind of thing where Thrall might just go "I don't want to subscribe to his newsletter…But the Horde does need to know these moves."

I also bet Feldad's gonna 'doctor' what went down a little so it's not 'a scrawny Blademaster just whooped a Fel Orc in the face with better Elementalism.' as far as the Burning Blade hears of it…
Unless we go home.
In defiance of Thrall's Exiling.
Danger and opportunity…
 
Next chapter will determine the next arc with a vote, similar to how we did a vote when you left Durotar. As such, indicate what sort of things you want to do. For example, you might say 'I want to go back home and duel Thrall' or 'I want to check out Desolace'. One of the options in the next chapter for example will be to take Dathrohan's offer and rule Alterac.
What about journeying into the portal to Outland?
 
Excellent.

We should definitely try to speak with feldad soon, as well as try to integrate our new members into the whole. I'm sure Alterac will be explored some more in search of information on Jubeithos, especially with Haomarush being his former student. I don't particularly care about Thrall when we have an opportunity to build something new right her, right now. Exploring other places could be interesting, and could open up diplomatic ties, but I'm not sure this sort of opportunity will come again, at least not without another massive campaign.
 
As such, indicate what sort of things you want to do. For example, you might say 'I want to go back home and duel Thrall' or 'I want to check out Desolace'.
I want to know what the hell we are supposed to do with three thousands orcs.

It was hard enough to deny being a warchief when there was half a thousand. What's the most populous clan, as of today?
 
We consolidate the Horde of the Eastern Kingdoms, and return the number of Warcheifs on the playing board to two! We must consolidate our people for the sake of Azaroth!
Pretty much. We are about to have two Hordes, one of the West and one of the East, led by people who are at odds politically.
"No." Scorn replied, "If you are an exile, then the Frostwolves attacked the Burning Blade, and it's war. If you're an independent chief of your own clan then it's a private matter."
So how much of a private matter will it look like by the time the news reach Kalimdor?

To prevent a civil war in Orgrimmar, we are setting up a bigger and better one.
 
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I hear one warchief, one warchief do I hear two, two warchief do I hear 3, 3 warchief do I hear 4 four anyone else want to claim the title (Thrall, Kargath, Rend and us)
 
That was pretty awesome. Grok got to live his ideal self in front of thousands of his people and solidify himself as one of the best Blademasters alive.

Amd he did it without any dark pacts or killing his opponent.

And now, he is leading the largest war party of Orcs and Ogres in Azeroth. (Rend has more troops but he doesn't have them all gathered in one place and ready for war).

Speaking of Rend, I want to head South and repeat this feat there and fully unite the Azerothian Orcs.

Then we can take a truly formidable army to Northrend to challenge the Scourge.
 
There's no doubts anymore. Grok's going to be a warchief even if he doesn't like it. They follow him not the warchief of the west who they may respect his accomplishments but they do not respect his ways. Though what forms may not actually be a horde but something different and new mixing with ideas of the alliance.
 
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Shouts and cries broke out all around you, jubilation at the duel, for surely a Mak'gora between Blademasters had not been fought in many years.
ORC ORC ORC ORC ORC

"I do not speak the tongue." said Kalaran, "What in the Light's name is happening?" and you saw him looking around in genuine confusion.
ORC ORC ORC ORC ORC

"This is a foolish thing." grumbled Scorn. "A foolish thing indeed! There is a cause at risk here, and for what? Bring the mountain down on them."

"The cause is honour, and it is the highest of causes." you replied easily. You were falling into the trance of swordplay, you had trained in this and now it came upon you like a flood, you felt yourself slipping away…
THE HIGHEST OF CAUSES, THE CLOSEST TO OUR HEART OF PURE FLAME.
You saw the strikes before Haomarush made them, Myzrael moved the earth beneath you to dodge or create the space to parry, you called upon the Light to sheath yourself in radiance so Haomarush's attacks would bounce off you, and where you couldn't your sword was there instead.

Your heart beat four times each second, your limbs burned, even so soon into the duel and your vision dimmed for a moment before you called on the Earth to strengthen you.

This kind of skill, this deadly of a dance, few can picture it. God I wish we could just teleport the band into Orgrimmar to share first hand accounts of this fight for a few hours.

You called Myzrael to grasp the blade as it came down at you, and grasp she did, a hand of rock assembling from the stone beneath you in a moment, tightening around Haomarush's sword. He kept hold of the handle though, looking vaguely offended, and instead took to the air again, using the stony fastness as a stepping stone to kick at you, two strikes against hand and blade, sending your own sword flying.

You were already drawing your long knife, and fire wreathed that too, even if you knew such a spell would destroy the small blade. You thrust at Haomarush and without his sword he bore the strike upon his shoulder, the blade sinking into his flesh, but his own fist came up against your belly, and then a sharp pain erupted in your shoulder as he drove one of his elbow spikes into your back.

You pushed him away, calling for your sword till it rose up in your hand, Haomarush shattering the stone around his own sword with another kick, muscles bulging and shining green for a moment as the Fel flowed through him.
SUGOIIIII

But Akinos was there again, "Believe not in death, but in life."

Rise, Bearer, rise!

Akinos had commanded you to hold honour closer than anything, commanded you to be a Blademaster, not merely a weapon to kill.

And you had never forgotten that.

From your blood came a fiery blazon. It erupted form your chest, excising Haomarush's sword in a great burst.

You soul slipped form your body, exalting in the air, settling around your shoulders in a great convocation.

Haomarush stared at you blankly.

You stepped forward, a Pure Flame melting the stone beneath your feet. The stone cracked in ruin as you walked, the weight of your soul bearing down upon the world.

GOOD GOD WHAT IS THIS BEAUTIFUL MIXTURE OF SHAMANISM AND LIGHT AND HONOR HNNNNGH.
Your struggle was in spirit now, for even as your own soul swelled and struck out with each attack, so too did Haomarush's darkness breach his skin. The Fel within him writhed before your fire, and a darkness entered his eyes, smoke and fume billowed from his sword, and each clash of weapons left little cinders of destruction in its wake.

You fought to the top of the stone tablet, you fought him upon the slopes and dancing over ravines which had opened all around you. You pressed him as he had pressed you, blow for blow, Light and Darkness.
THE LIGHT WILL ALWAYS OUTSHINE THE DARK.

"Well fought." you returned, lowering your blade. "But it is done."

The Fel-Orc smiled, panting as he gathered himself.

"It is done," he nodded, "and you are worthy indeed."
I feel like the dog who caught the car.
Loved it, good job Grok, your ideals paid off.

Three thousand some combat-trained orcs are probably best served fighting, if there's an obvious place to turn to to fight. Going to Desolace sounds like a good way to test our ability to feed our guys...

Otherwise I say we take our gilded-cage. Taking Alterac Valley is viable if we can feed our warband from it... A Kingdom of our own which we can leave a portion of the band in for national defense/w.e, and return to an recuperate/resupply/train as needed, before heading towards whatever threat we deem necessary to combat.

Would love to get in contact with other parts of the Alliance short term, get a handle on the goings-on of their world.
 
oh slight problem I think of do red orcs get the same lethargy as the regular fel orcs got cause if so that could be bad
 
Really this was just phenomenal, this shit is what chapter one Gork dreamed of. I would say spread his ways as a blade master (honour, self discipline, martial purity and stoicism) for new warband, shape then like the burning blade to pierce the darkness and end the madness, It's funny tha in a way Gork is on the opposite position as Traal as an warchief.
 
Rather than leave anywhere, we should Stay To Rule, Damnit.

We should also diplomatically try to interact with Thrall now since just ignoring him isn't working for our interests, but we have a duty now to command and direct a highly divided kingdom with populace that would happily merk each other if given a choice.
I want to know what the hell we are supposed to do with three thousands orcs.

It was hard enough to deny being a warchief when there was half a thousand. What's the most populous clan, as of today?
If we are the king of Alterac, the problem vanishes. We are a ruler, but thus not a Warchief In All But Name.
 
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Rather than leave anywhere, we should Stay To Rule, Damnit.

We should also diplomatically try to interact with Thrall now since just ignoring him isn't working for our interests, but we have a duty now to command and direct a highly divided kingdom with populace that would happily merk each other if given a choice.

If we are the king of Alterac, the problem vanishes. We are a ruler, but thus not a Warchief In All But Name.
With Karlus at his side he might do a bit of undercutting to pull one over Danrothan. While the syndicate may have been beaten and absorbed, their original grudges remain so that they might agree under duress to let an outsider who's willing to play ball and agree to new terms so that they can continue life like they used to before the dark portal opened and everything honestly went truly to shit for them.
"That will wait. We have other matters to see to now." Vanndar replied, turning back to you. "Well, 'Breaker', we've heard of you, and in quieter times I might invite you to Dun Baldar to view the relics of our people. I had word from the Explorer's League that there might be some connection between our peoples, strange as that is, but for now the Frostwolves must be dealt with. I give you two choices, for though you hold a writ from Dathrohan, I hold seniority of command here, and besides that I have the greater force I judge. I will slay and Frostwolf left in this valley, they've acted treacherously in the past, and I'll not tolerate their presence here any longer. Two choices then. They must either go with you, or they must go entirely."
wowpedia.fandom.com

Dun Baldar

Dun Baldar (or Dun'Baldar)[1] is the stronghold of Alliance General Vanndar Stormpike, located in the northern part of Alterac Valley. Vanndar himself is in the keep on which the stronghold is built around.
Ok to dwarf territory then.
 
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Rather than leave anywhere, we should Stay To Rule, Damnit.
We should also diplomatically try to interact with Thrall now since just ignoring him isn't working for our interests, but we have a duty now to command and direct a highly divided kingdom with populace that would happily merk each other if given a choice.
True. Shall we leave Alterac in anarchy or in the ruthless hands of Datrohan... Or instead build a Kingdom of Orcs and Men? With Grok'mash at the helm, and a Small Council made up of Vark, the Bishop, Martha as spymaster, Scorn as Master of Logistics, a couple of relevant humans from cities or nobility, and a troll representative. 🤩
 
liked how not every orc wanted the mak'gora cause just like with these kind of duels in rl end up having risks of seeing your leader defeated.
I'm partly basing the Mak'gora on the holmgang of Norse stories. Often you'll get berserkers who turn up and duel lots of people for their land etc, and the people can't refuse without being cowards which is obviously a big deal. Therefore berserkers have actually quite a poor reputation in norse society, for example:

Before leaving Eirik summoned all his Landmen and the larger bondis to meet him. Eirik the jarl was an able ruler, and they had much discussion regarding the laws and their administration. It was considered a scandal in the land that pirates and berserks should be able to come into the country and challenge respectable people to the hólmgang for their money or their women, no wergild being paid whichever fell. Many had lost their money and been put to shame in this way; some indeed had lost their lives. For this reason jarl Eirik abolished all hólmgang in Norway and declared all robbers and berserks who disturbed the peace outlaws (Grettis saga, ch. 19).

Now the Orcs don't use the duel in the same way, but I imagine the various other cultural forces (older warriors, shaman, women) would try and reduce the number of Mak'gora going around, to prevent needless deaths and so on.

However, yes Scorn is very much displeased, Grok is his meal ticket as it were, so he wants to ensure Grok isn't killed etc.
I don't think I even know enough WoE lore to understand the magnitude of this. Like this seems like the kind of thing where Thrall might just go "I don't want to subscribe to his newsletter…But the Horde does need to know these moves."

I also bet Feldad's gonna 'doctor' what went down a little so it's not 'a scrawny Blademaster just whooped a Fel Orc in the face with better Elementalism.' as far as the Burning Blade hears of it…
This would likely be quite confusing to everyone involved. You'd have to have someone who understands the actual metaphysical effects of the Light, like for example a Draenei scientist, as well as someone who has a deep understanding of elementalism and shamanic practice. Even then, I think the situation would be extremely unusual. For example, was this a unique manifestation of a culturally specific facet of the Light? Or was it some sort of Spirit of Life thing? Very weird.

For Feldad, as well as others, it's also probably indeed a question of what exactly they might say about it. Thrall will be alarmed that Grok has joined with a Fel-orc clan, and I don't think anyone would initial believe that Grok has indeed been using the light, given that almost no one has actually seen it or remarked upon it.

What about journeying into the portal to Outland?

It's not as far as Grok knows, however in the 'Timeline' of wow, we're getting relative close to it I'd expect. Obviously you just did Naxx, there's a few other raids, that is, large scale events, but the timeline is advancing yes. If the Legion decide they want to open the portal again to trick the Azerothians into killing Illidan for them, they may indeed do that.
I'm sure Alterac will be explored some more in search of information on Jubeithos, especially with Haomarush being his former student.
Will be in the next chapter somewhat. I had planned for you to actually visit them and do some stuff, but Alterac ended up being left till last, after Arathi and Naxx etc, so you never got round to it, and so I'll probably just deliver it through exposition.
It was hard enough to deny being a warchief when there was half a thousand. What's the most populous clan, as of today?
I'll have to work this out as I need to do a proper infopost on it. To give a short answer though, probably Blackrock still, they've always been the most powerful, and Rend wil have been juicing the childrne up to age them etc. This was going to be one of the things revealed to explain how the Demonsword have come up with so many troops.
So how much of a private matter will it look like by the time the news reach Kalimdor?

To prevent a civil war in Orgrimmar, we are setting up a bigger and better one.
Keep in mind Scorn has a distinct self-interested reason to play Grok up as a chief.
oh slight problem I think of do red orcs get the same lethargy as the regular fel orcs got cause if so that could be bad
Apparently not. IT seems to be exclusive to orcs who drank Mannaroth's blood, rather than anything else. I suppose other Fel orcs might have other physiological or psycological effects, but that's not really represented in game at least.
Apparently his name is an actual word, seems fitting.
Oh yes, has been for a while. So when choosing the name I've interpreted it to be 'Deep Mind'. Grommash is 'Deep Heart', so possibly meaning courageous or something, so I'm basically putting 'Grok' down as a work associated with wisdom etc. But the actual work irl comes from like sci-fi culture or something in the 80s?
 
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