So… yesterday I was poked by a guy on my btag… I have casually spoken to him once in a while, and we have worked together on the secret santa project.
For those of you, who doesn’t know, Secret Santa started when he poked me, and offered me a gift of 20k gold, simply as a thank you, as he enjoyed my posts on realm forum. Hardly knowing the guy, I refused, and when he insisted, we made an agreement, that I would accept the sum of ingame gold, and then pass it forward to others, by locating friendly, helpful people throughout the realm, and reward them with a small surprise post and 500 gold.
During the Christmas, we gave around 27k gold away – and I got to encounter so many helpful and kind people. Honestly I believe I was the most lucky one of them all.
Recently the realm turned 10 years old, and I took it up on my own again, to celebrate this event. Secret Santa offered me additional gold for the task if need be. We also have plans to celebrate easter in a similar way, and Secret Santa has grown to be one of my friends on btag.
I’m referring to him as Secret Santa, as he prefers to remain anonymous.
Anyhow, he poked me yesterday, and asked if he could have my Skype, as he wanted to say something, and did not wish to spam me too much ingame. I accepted and he transferred a small letter through Skype to me. I’m going to give you the unedited version, except for one mentioning of his name, which I have removed.
I mean… how nice is this?
One thing is giving away such a huge sum of gold, and transmog items etc, but the letter itself made me speechless, just sitting with a big smile on my face, after reading it.
I am not yet aware why or how I deserve it… but as a friend of mine said on Skype:
I feel very humble, and lucky to have such friends. Even though I hard a very hard time taking compliments, like these, I treasure them with all my heart and is deeply touched by the act of kindness.
Thank you Secret Santa, for entering my life, determined to spoil me with the presence of you.
So it’s starting… the days grow longer, it begins slowly to get warmer, no more ice and snow.
People are celebrating valentines, new couples emerge and jumps out, as the nature welcomes them with open arms…
People go to the beach, into the garden, barbequeing their hearts out.
Co-workers come in, flashing their tans.
I get busy at work.
From now on and until June 30th, I’ll be expected to work 10-15 hours extra each week compared to normal – in periods a lot more.
My short sparetime will be devoted to WoW, and thus I will remain pale when everyone else turns brown.
This is not a big deal. Except… I’m addicted to wow. How will I manage without my weekly 50 hours of fun? My garrison growing lonely… my guild only seeing me… well… 30 hours a week… (It’s WAY too little!). Frankly – I already found 50 hours a week online to be a bit too little for my taste.
There’s only one solution. I must dump my boyfriend (just kidding, but seriously, it sucks).
Thanks Blizzard. You got me hooked. When do you make a matrix connection, so I won’t ever have to deal with IRL again?
Honestly, I would accept it.
So as those of you, who know me ingame might be aware, I’m a sucker for lore, the canon lore that is.
I’m not a huge fan of lore violation in roleplay.
That means, 30 year old orcs who were born in Durotar, Yaungols and Drakkari trolls who joined the Horde, a bloodelf who were raised by Amani trolls, or healing blademasters… No thanks. All of those, are examples I’ve encountered ingame.
I am aware some of the more special snowflakey concepts can be open for debate – like half human-orcs, I’m not a fan of such either, however, unless the story is told very well.
“Whoa, whoa whoa!” You might say: “What about the religion your clan has?? That’s clearly not lore!”
And you are right. It is implemented, recognised and acknowledged as utter fanfiction. It is not forced upon anyone to believe and accept this, especially not outside the clan.
What I can accept, and which is supported by lore, is that clans each have their own “thing” – Frostwolves are multicultural, Blackrocks drown their weaklings by birth, Stormreavers are warlocks, and Laughing Skulls are insane.
As a roleplayer, I enjoy player added ideas, when no claims are made, that it’s lore, if the story told is actually good, and when people are prepared to face any IC consequences from their actions. Also, I appreciate it only, if it does not violate any present lore.
And please – do not read any dodgy sentence in the RPG’s and claim that I should accept your unique char (which is rarely all that unique, just poorly told, far fetched and almost impossible to believe) as it’s lore. RPG is not canon – for a reason.
Regarding the “religion” within the Blackjaw Clan, it is presented as stories shared within that clan, possibly due to the huge influence a big number of warriors have had on the culture.
At some point, some of the warriors wished for more understandable believes, rather than the more mysterious ways of a Shaman, especially as the Shaman struggled communing with elements and ancestors after the blooddrinking of Mannoroth. That said, some of the Shaman within the clan, might frown upon this belief.
With a very imaginative leadership within the guild, we have over the years developed clan-specific rituals, dialect and culture.
I enjoy the clan fanfiction within the Blackjaws, for the originality, quality and thought which has been put into it.
Just as I will accept any -good- story from other players, if they actually manage to explain my char, why their Drakkari was not kill on sight, when they first met Vol’jin’s Horde.
My char might not approve of their attempts to tell, and she might not approve of their presence however. That is IC consequences from being a Drakkari within the Horde. You chose it, suck it up.
As a 32-year old accountant IRL, people are often quite surprised to realise I live half my life as an orc.
And yes, I guess it is quite odd, even though I know many like me inside this online world.
One of the things I notice once in a while, is how people hide it IRL, afraid to acknowledge their inner geek, admitting they are a child deep within.
I’m not sure I follow why.
I got my very first accountant job due to playing WoW – turned out my boss was hardcore raider.
I got my current job due to being a computer geek – turned out they lacked a computer savvy person.
And yes, I brought my Frostwolf plushie to work the other day, they chuckled a bit with me, and accepted that I, as a 32 year old accountant had brought a toy with me for work.
And sure, my intern sitting infront of me, shaked her head a little as I took a picture of my Frostwolf using an old calculator, but it was fun nonetheless.
I believe, the world would be a better place, if we all just remembered the joy of being a child and playing once more.
And yes, I cry after roleplay, as I get so attached to the various chars people build up, it’s so sad when they die in-char, I jump half a meter in the couch from a simple shock-effect in a horror movie, and I turn in my chair to avoid falling down a cliff in WoW. But I love my imagination, and I am proud of it!
I dare you all, to enter the biggest toystore nearby, today, and immerse yourself into the world. Play with the toys, act silly, run through the shop with an “elephant trunk” making elephant noises. Try it. Release the adult stress and forget anything which troubles you, even if just for a second.
So, today is yet another day in my second life.
-No I do not play Second Life, I just spend so much time in WoW – it has become a second life for me.
Currently I’m trying to level my engineering and herbalism up, so that I am finally done with my professions.
I have a task with some reputations, and also, I should begin to clear some old MoP achievements out of the way, I guess.
Roleplay takes a lot of time from me, and there’s so many things I want to do ingame, but just didn’t have the time for yet.
I still have only had time to max 3 chars to 100, I have most unlocked for garrison though. Soon™.
I brought my little Frostwolf pup to work today, and afterwards we went outside in the snow for a quick snowball game. My coworkers are now convinced I’m insane. I guess they might be right.
Thoughts from a Shaman.
It had been a long night, Grak’rrah yawned loudly, before she cuddled up against the already sleeping Rar’gnak. Now if only she could sleep fast.
She closed her eyes, yet the memories of the day seemed to keep disturbing her rest, as her thoughts spun around inside her skull.
She sat quietly by the fire with Rar’gnak, enjoying a meal from the Elekk they had hunted, when they bonded a few days earlier. Suddenly Hellfury had yelled “Lok-Narash” and Grak’rrah had jumped up on her feet, only to realise, it seemed no eminent danger was present. She returned to her seat for a little while, before Rar’gnak had wished her a goodnight and departed.
She had moved to the smaller fire, now only Iron Maw Fireblood being present – and Grak’ had greeted him. After a short moment, he had ordered her to go see, if anyone needed mending – briefly mentioning what had occurred. Something about a Skywise shooting at her clansmen.
Grak’rrah had of course obeyed. After all, the Code explicitly stated; “-Obedience- We will obey orders without question and with speed and surety. We will trust in those who command us. It is not our place to question their actions but their place to question ours.”
A swift “Swobu” and she rushed in the direction the others had went. Shortly after, she located them, and a quick question to the nearest orc, determined that no one was suffering from injuries. As no one required her aid, and as everyone awkwardly claimed it having been an accident, she decided, it was best to report to the Iron Maw. Clearly, enough clansmen were present; another one would only add confusion to the matter at hand.
Before she had time to return to the Iron Maw, he yelled for assembly, and Grak’rrah hurried back to line up. As usual the Blackjaws struggled to perform something as simple as creating a single line, and Grak’ could not keep herself from making a small comment about it. It helped. Grak’ curled her brow, perhaps this was worth noting, she thought to herself. The Blackjaws could, when they wanted to, they just lacked the discipline.
Iron Maw Fireblood has picked the Skywises out of the line, asked regarding the arrow, and finally broken Verzan’s face. Grak’ was hardly a fan of violence, but the Code also stated: “-Punishment- We should learn to accept punishment for our failures. It is only by being punished that we can know what was wrong and remember the lesson. It makes us stronger. It makes us sharper. It makes us Stoneface.”
While Grak’rrah was no Stoneface anymore, she would abide by the Code, unless it went straight against a superior’s order. The Chieftains and the Iron Maws would of course always have first priority.
Funnily, that was also a part of the Code. “Loyalty- To have absolute faith in our Chieftain and our Clanmates. Protect them with our life. No matter their race or trait, they are our brothers and sisters. Nothing else matters more than our Clan.”
Grak’rrah realised her thoughts were drifting, half-asleep as she was. She returned to the punishment. She had forced herself to remain quiet, doing her best to keep her face neutral, without revealing any weakness. No matter how much the Skywise might be hurting, she was certain, Iron Maw Fireblood would have ordered her to mend the girl, should he deem it necessary. Obedience.
She had been trained in obeying, in the plentiful exercises within the Stoneface Clan. Any attempt to break a line, once the order to line up had been given, would have resulted in severe punishment by the Stone Guard back then. More than once, had she seen a clansman being physically broken by the loud-yelling Warsong.
She forced herself to stare straight ahead. It was a trick, she had been taught back then. No matter which superior yells at you, or what happens, you just keep starring ahead.
She hoped the young Skywise was all right. Her face might of course be damaged… but on the other hand, a shot from that range could just as easily have been fatal. The Iron Maw was fully entitled to punish as he had done. However, even if he had not, she was not one to disobey a superior.
The foolish Hellfury, a shame he was nothing like his older self, had challenged Rugoram to Mak’gohran. She snorted loudly, only to make the sleeping Rar’gnak grunt, and turn around, coiling his arms around her. Grak granted him a brief smile, before her thoughts returned to the events. Rugoram had of course accepted; no proper orc would have refused such. Lumarda would most likely.
Grak grimaced her face, as her thoughts drifted to Lumarda.
The young female was just as disgusting as Hellfury. While he drooled at any female he could spot, she made sure, no one doubted how much she enjoyed it. Always walking around halfway nude, flirting like an elf, and even stating that she admired the behind of Jaina Proudmoore. Grak’rrah grunted. Lumarda had no honour, no wonder she was chasing the Blackjaws, rather than staying with her own clan. They had most likely disowned her. The other day, she had even complained, that she found it dull, to stay in the camp.
Grak’rrah had tried. Even after the girl had threatened Rar’gnak with a spear and her bow. She had even shared most of her Code, to the youngling. Had she listened? Not a word had penetrated the thick yet empty skull. Grak’rrah, former tutor of the Unforged within the Stonefaces, had wasted the –Code- on an unworthy disgrace.
Her thoughts continued.
She had to admit to herself, that even though, her thoughts often drifted towards the Code, which had been beaten into her spine, she was quite happy to have joined the Blackjaws. The Chieftains were strong and honourable, and most their men, while hardly disciplined, were men and women of honour, strong with courage. Even those struggling to be, right now, promised well for the future.
Finally, she had Rar’gnak. The man, she had never dared to hope for.
At first, she had claimed to be into girls, whenever a male tried to smooth-talk her within the Stonefaces. Had a girl tried the opposite, she had claimed to be into males. Sometimes she had claimed her Shamanistic duties took all her time.
Then of course, there was Rok’rah. Rok’rah… was Rok’rah. He had declined her due to the duty they had both obeyed within the Stoneface Clan. Rok’rah… son of Dhakrog Stoneface. Grak’rrah peered at the sleeping Rar’gnak, unable to resist a slight comparison. So alike, yet so different.
They had never even kissed. Rok’rah and her love… was of a different kind, she realised now. Their shared love of the Clan, the Code, and the Chieftain. They had been a match if any, seen from the outside, and yet, duty had taken its toll.
She had at first declined the thought of Rar’gnak as a mate. He was… amazing, no doubt. She knew however, if any, that duty came first. It was not until she had a talk with Chieftain Bloodhowl, who assured her, mating and breeding in his eyes, was part of the Clan duty, she allowed Rar’gnak closer to her.
Grak’rrah grunted slightly. Now she was mated and bonded. Soon, if the ancestors wanted, she would be with whelps.
Her final thought, as her mind at long last drifted towards the land of dreams flickered around in her head as a lost butterfly; “Duty first.”
You might be curious to who, Zugrah Arrowsplitter is.
She is my main, a roleplaying char on Argent Dawn EU, where I live most of my life.
But who is Zugrah Arrowsplitter really?
Zugrah is 27 years old, and born into the Blackrock Clan. Her mother returned to Outlands before the portal closed, and gave birth there. Zugrah grew up in the Outlands, and only ventured to Azeroth once the portal reopened approximately, five years ago. Her father remained behind, fighting in Azeroth, and were never seen again. Only the Ancestors knows if he is still alive.
Zugrah met Draxurn Bloodgaze briefly after the rebellion had ended. He was trying to drown his sorrows, after loosing his lifemate, and Zugrah fell hard for the clansman. Sadly Draxurn made the wrong choices in life, and went more hateful over time, unable to forget his lifemate. Zugrah sticked with him, well aware that she would always be second in his heart, but her love was strong enough to conquer it. In the end, the hatred consumed Draxurn to the point where he tortured an elf within his ranks, and Zugrah felt forced to leave his side, despite carrying his unborn whelp. Draxurn lost his sanity and challenged Droigan Bloodhowl, Chieftain of the Blackjaw Clan to Mak’gora, and lost.
Had Zugrah been in a condition to speak, she would have told a tale. An epic story, about finding an orc, trying to drown his sorrows after loosing his lifemate.
She could have told, how they bonded, as she made it her lifetask, to mend her fellow clanmember’s invisible wound.
She knew, that she could never replace his lost lifemate, never even tried to compete, as she knew she was bound to loose.
She loved him. In many ways more than Gorrka. The quiet self-sacrifising love, that made her accept an eternal rank as number two.
He made some bad choices, and she tried to restore order, to mend issues and to keep the Warband together. She knew he was changed, from the loss of his lifemate, and the devastating feeling of having failed the most important task in his life.
She attempted to persuade him, to see the errors of his ways. She asked from him to stop his brutality, and tried to help him to find back to his old days.
Gorrka could have. Had she been around.
Zugrah was not Gorrka sadly, and lacked the persuasive skills that Gorrka had contained. She did never manage to reach his heart the same way.
In the end, things spinned out of control, and Zugrah left the Warband in Booty Bay and returned to Orgrimmar alone. She had fought a warchief, and could no longer stand by his side, supporting the wrong path.
“Zugrah came walking from the side of the Barracks in Valley of Honour, as she suddenly spotted a small group on their wolves. She looked searchingly as it was members of the Dranosh’ar Dominion. Across the back of one of the wolves was a body. No! It couldn’t be! But she already knew it was.
Zugrah dropped to her knees, as the world stopped. Nearby members of the Horde might almost have heard how her heart shattered, as she started a horrified chanting:
“No…no…no no no nooo!”
The last no, was a scream of pure pain, as she announced her grief for most of Orgrimmar to hear.
Her mate, the father of her unborn whelp, was dead.
Zugrah collapsed on the ground. She suddenly grabbed one of her knives, earlier given to her by Draxurn himself, originally as a measure of defence, but now twisted into a weapon, as Zugrah turned it swiftly around, and gutted herself open, without much thought on the fetus.
She gasped in pain, as blood filled her lips, and the contents of her stomach poured out on the ground.
Bakary noticed, and grabbed her with a frown, and started saving her life, with the aid of his mate Ren’jaja. He told the devastated orc, that he did it, for her to live on with the pain and shame, and to save Draxurns offspring.
As the trolls by combined force healed her up fully, they left her lying on the ground, without further care for her mental well-being. It was her friend, Threlc’osh, who located her and decided to bring her to Silvermoon, to ensure her safety in friendly hands.
Zugrah did not speak. She cried, moaned, mumbled Draxurns name repeatedly, and starred into the ground. She made not attempts to eat, sit or walk on her own. She was as shattered as her heart.
The elves checked up on the physical status of her and the unborn whelp, then finally decided to bring both her and Threlc’osh to a noble estate nearby to recover in safe hands, protected by some of the best fighters and menders available to the elven Order. One of the elves, signed off his duty for the time being, dedicating himself to the task of restoring the broken orc, and securing her unborn baby boy.
A goblin messenger showed up inbetween, to inform, that the Warband known as the Dranosh’ar Dominion was no more, and that Draxurn Bloodgaze had been sent to the ancestors, from the same location as Gorrka had been.“
As Zugrah slowly started to recover after a few months, from the devastating loss of her mate, she started to search for a purpose. A reason to be alive.
She had lost the Warband, the Warlord, and her mate.
All that was left, was herself, and the unborn whelp within her stomach. All the hatred, had led to nothing. The elves had fled to Silvermoon, the orcs had chosen the wrong path again, and the trolls returned to their savage ways.
It seemed, as if no lesson had been learned, despite the rebellion and the influence of Go’el.
Zugrah grunted to herself. If only someone could show the Horde, that the races could co-exist together. Without racism, without hatred. If only the races could learn from each others. A bit like Threlc’osh had suggested.
The orcish strength, combined with the elven diplomacy, the forsaken endurance, and the trademanship of the goblins. All mixed together with a decent sense of honour and respect.
Now that could unite the Horde, and ensure strength in preparation for the day, when the truce would end. The strength, so dearly needed within the Horde, to be able to defeat the alliance when time is right.
Zugrah pondered for a while. She was pregnant, and Rham’gosh had already offered to help raise her cub, which she had accepted gratefully. A child would need a father figure, and as she had no intentions of seeking a new mate, Rham’gosh was definitely the perfect solution.
He had also offered her a position within his group, the Durakra Outriders. This was a very tempting offer, as Rham’gosh and his men was a great bunch, no doubt.
Zugrah grunted. She could not keep watching as the races got separated once more. It was time for action.
She knew it would be tough, as a Blackrock, she would hardly be the most trustworthy of orcs, but her actions would have to enlighten her allies.
A group of mentors should be created, of the various races. Their job would be to guide and teach the members of her group, aswell as the Horde of new ways.
She would forge her group into several branches… not due to race, but due to personalities and talents.
And… to name the group… it would have to symbolise something…
Zugrah thought for a while. Then suddenly it hit her.
Go’rim was the name, Draxurn Bloodgaze and Gorrka Pridemane had once imagined their whelp to carry, before Gorrka had died, and along with her the unborn whelp.
The death of Gorrka, had signalled the beginning of Draxurns turn towards the hatred, which ended up destroying the Dranosh’ar Dominion.
Go’rim was at the same time, a name made up from two heroes, Go’el and Orgrim. Who, better than those two beacons of hope, could better portray the future of such a group?
A name, signalling the hopes of a unified Horde, without racial hatred. A name, warning what could happen whenever the wrong choices were made.
Zugrah grunted. So it would be done.
Zugrah started her group as planned, but was sadly destined to give up only too soon, as complications from her pregnancy forced her to give up the dream.
Zugrah has spend the last few months in Orgrimmar, coping with her pregnancy, which is due in three months.
Rham’gosh, the orc who offered to raise her cub, is in Draenor, doing his duty with his men meanwhile.
As we celebrate world of warcraft this year, I thought I should share my life with World of Warcraft with you all.
I was dragged into the game in the early 2005, when my ex-boyfriend persuaded me to play. I rolled a priest on his account (yes! I was bad and didn’t own a computer myself). It did not take long however, before I purchased my own computer, and by april 2005 I started playing on my own account, I was hooked.
My first guild was a guild with mainly IRL friends from my own country, I was allowed in, when I reached level 20, and got to know all these lovable guys. A few months later, we decided to have an IRL guild meeting, and one meeting turned into more.
Especially my guildmaster, a dwarf named Buffon, who later rerolled to become a dwarf named Eifel, made an impact. We became friends, and spent many nights together. Him, me and my ex-boyfriend. In the end, my ex told me to go be with Buffon instead of himself, as we were a better match, I realised he was right, and that was how I met the love of my life.
Buffon and I, (he’s a very private person, so keeping him anonymous), have now lived together for more than 9 years.
As we started out in Vanilla, we both experienced the joy of getting “full blues” and eventually started raiding. Dark Dominon was the guild on Doomhammer, where we started our adventure, and before Vanilla was over, we had cleared all the content, opened the AQ gates and much more. The entire expansion had an epic feel to it.
After vanilla ended, I personally chose to quit raiding after Karazhan. I had a raidleader at the time, who made an adult guy cry on teamspeak, due to wiping, and I did not feel like it was fun anymore.
I moved to a roleplaying server, where I stepped my first baby steps, and tried to RP with other people. I was horrible most likely. Some of the things I recall, was cringeworthy at least. But I liked roleplaying.
I am Zugrah Arrowsplitter. I’m an orc.
I am several orcs infact, as I’m quite the altoholic.
These days, I’m playing my Shaman Grak’rrah Windwhistler a lot.
This blog is going to be about my adventures in World of Warcraft, my life on a RP server.
You can read more about me, on my profile, hopefully the WoW geekyness will appeal to you.
Do not hesitate to reply with your own, tips and ideas, experiences and comments.
– See you ingame!