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  1. Al-Badwawi Caravan Services From the dunes of the land, a small tribe of Qalasheen awaken from their slumber. Tending to their horses and llamas, they prepare for their next caravan run. Posters are hung up on the paths they take and letters are sent out, reading the following; Salam! Are you a merchant looking for services to expand your opportunities for sale? The Al-Badwawi is preparing its next caravan as you read this, and your item could be part of the next trip. Answer the questions below and contact Mehmed Ibn Walid Al-Badwawi(Buck_o7) through bird or in person. Our caravans are guarded by local forces and our own skilled men, ready to protect and uphold security which ensures your item remains in safe hands. Partnerships and alternative services are also available upon request. Our caravans usually carry leather and steels of varying sorts and animals like horses and llamas, inquire if interested. Include your name, items you wish to list, cost of them, and descriptions for our men to advertise it. Be descriptive of it's capabilities and potential, especially if it an item with little history. Once information has been provided, a member of the tribe will reach out to set up a meeting of which finalization will be taking place and to collect the item(s) Terms of Agreement & Service 1. The cost of the service is zero mina, until the item has been sold of which a cut of the profits will be taken. This can be negotiated, but it will be 25% by default. 2. If an item/items is deemed unsellable or has no interest after several caravan runs, it will be returned if there is another item(s) in queue. An item will remain indefinitely on our caravans if there are no other items available. 3. If an item is lost to an attack on the caravan, the cost or item will not be compensated. It will be returned if it is found again or relinquished.
  2. Findin’ Da Spiritz: Tides of Reflection Following the journey of Vol'Xin, a small Goblin from the Iron Horde, as he seeks to connect with the elements and discovers the challenges that lie ahead. These events unfolded in IRP and have been translated into a four-part story. Embarkin’ on Dah Journey After conversing with Madoc’Lur, the Mothsham of the Iron Horde, Vol’Xin found himself in a position to seek out an Animist. However, his lack of interactions with the current shamans could prove to be a challenging obstacle. Spending a day or two searching for the shamans of the elements, Vol’Xin eventually encountered an Elven Witch-Doctor, well-versed in the ways of the elements and their spirits. The conversation enlightened Vol’Xin about the spirits around him and their domains. Though he had an idea of which element he might connect with, he remained open-minded to the possibilities that lay ahead. He packed his bags and dragged a small raft with him, holding the little he had, and set out on a journey beyond the gates of Orcgrimmar. His path initially proved calm and simple, but as he wandered, thoughts of which element to seek out first filled his head like the mist around him. Eventually, he decided to let the elements guide him and attempted to bond with the ones he encountered first. After a day of wandering, he seated himself near a large beach. Looking out towards the ocean, he felt discomfort as the waves crashed against the rocks. Detaching his belongings from the raft, he sat on top of it and pushed himself out onto the ocean. As he floated away, the waves calmed themselves, and the winds offered him solitude—a chance for conversation. Reaching into his satchel, he grabbed a handful of herbs, mixed them together, and snorted them, entering a state of tranquillity and hallucination. He extended his arms outwards, raising his voice; “Da spirit of da watah, Akathro, Vol’Xin be callin’ ya to show mi ah sign for ya konnektion'' he'd yell, gripping onto a boneward charm he had tied around his neck and ripping it off. He lowered the charm into the water slowly, hoping the spirit would converse with him or at least show a sign, continuing to yell: “Mi be offerin’ ya dis charm of mi kreation, karved from da bone of mi enemiez” Time passed, his hallucinating state causing the water to reflect the light in a beautiful manner. He imagined unnatural fishes, nautical creatures, and clouded-dark entities floating in the water around him. Believing the spirits would protect him, his lack of response worried him; was he about to be consumed by the spirit of water? He thought to himself, staying on the raft until eventually, he softly began paddling his way back to the shores as fear set in. Slowly but surely, he pushed himself along the water, the entities following his raft as he looked down. Vol’Xin did not find it enjoyable nor welcoming. This was not his destiny, and he was not convinced by the spirits' actions, gaining a disliking for the water. As he reached the shore, he jumped off the raft in fear, crawling back to safety. Followed by heavy breathing and the persistent hallucinations, he imagined the spirit emerging from the water, speaking to him. The spirit warned him of the oceans and what would happen if he returned. Vol’Xin quickly scrambled away, fearful of what the spirit might do. He ran deep into the sands where he was safe from the water. Vol’Xin learned an important lesson that day and vowed to distance himself from Akathro. Swearing on his own life, he promised never to embark on such a journey into the oceans again. He looked out towards where his raft would be sitting, held firmly onto the remaining herbs and food, and turned to the large mountains standing tall amongst the sand, heading to speak with the spirit of the wind, Fiarza.
  3. ROLEPLAY NAME: Morgrim IN GAME NAME: Buck_o7 DISCORD USERNAME: president_xi_jinping PRIOR MINING EXPERIENCE: A lot, spending most of my time within the caves. ARE YOU A CITIZEN: Yes. ARE YOU WILLING TO SWEAR THE OATH: Yes.
  4. LaoTzu


    You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.” Morgrim took a deep breath, the weight of his history settling on his broad shoulders. "My roots delve into the depths of Khazad Kazak," he began, his voice a low rumble echoing within the confines of the tent. "Our hands are calloused from the forge, our minds etched with the runes of the arcane." He pauses for a moment, looking onwards to the old hag, he continues; "Our roots run deep, intertwined with both mountain dwarf and dark elf blood. Aye, the melding of fire and shadow within our veins." Morgrim's eyes flickered with a subdued intensity as he recounted the ancient tales from his younger days, "In those times, the mountains echoed with the spirited laughter of fellow wanderers, and the thrill of uncharted realms fueled our adventurous spirits," he mused. Morgrim leaned back, the tent's shadows casting intriguing patterns on his face. "That's me tale, old one. A dark dwarf with the blood of both mountain and shadow, searching for truths and wielding the fire within." He awaited the hag's response, the air thick with anticipation.
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