Character: Mekgineer Sicco Thermaplugg
Sicco stood over the broken precipice that formed where once had been one of the greatest science markets of Gnomeregan. In his mind, he could still see the streets and corridors full of curious gnomes and stands, brimming with young scientists eager to prove their theories and to get noticed by the great minds that ruled Gnomeregan. Sicco had stood once at the very same spot where he was now, but at that time he was looking down from his mechanized walker upon the young tinkerers presenting their inventions. Of course, he feigned a lack of interest in anything that was going on, but in truth, only power was more interesting to him that science. He saw the potential in many of these youngsters, and was even envious of some of them, but he knew that without him noticing them, they would amount to nothing. So he did not notice. Or at least pretended not to. But now, Sicco looked down again and saw only broken rocks, metal rods jutting out of the crags and skeletons of long-dead gnomes. Among them however was one more thing, one that was far more important for Sicco – broken dreams, his as well as theirs.
For the longest time, I’ve been stuck on this groundling world with no way out, nor any way to meet more of my kind. All I had were these unfamiliar, strange people and too often I had to even pretend I’m something different. And now I’m in luck, because Krasha managed to open a portal to another world, one more familiar to me. I mean, it was just gnomes at first, and I don’t really like them (who does?) but it was the Gnadra Confederacy. Finally, I was back in a familiar territory. I would run back to my homeworld using this opportunity but I actually managed to get a well-paying job here, with the opportunity to use the knowledge that would have been useless on Wawhira, but to my present employer it’s gold. I’m back out of “miraculous trader” and into “interstellar guide”!
Character: Rehgar Ironclaw, one of the chief Dark Shaman of the corrupted Kor’kron
A storm was brewing above the shores of Kargath Bay. Or rather, Grommashar Bay as “glorious Warchief Garrosh Hellscream” prefers to call it now. Ever since the Darkspear Rebellion and the Alliance failed to overcome their differences and lost in Orgrimmar, Garrosh went on an unprecedented offensive. From a villain with no popular support, he suddenly became a miracle worker. He turned the tides of war against his enemies despite overwhelming odds and all the loot-hungry adventurers knocking at his door. In his thirst for power, he ravaged Pandaria with the Sha of Pride he unleashed, and invoked upon the ancient and forbidden powers of the Old God Y’Shaarj. The creature was long dead, he thought, but Garrosh forgot the maxim the Twilight’s Hammer keeps repeating, which is ominously true – they do not live, they do not die, they are outside the cycle. Y’Shaarj will soon be reborn – in him.
The Titans have created a whole family of stone creatures, all of varying morphology as well as faculties. The core Titanic races are commonly mentioned as earthen, gnomes, vrykul, tol’vir and mogu. Most of these creatures have been discovered in multiple sites, including earthen in Uldaman as well as Ulduar, or tol’vir were found in Uldum and Ulduar (even though the Ulduar tol’vir were converted by Nerubians and then the Scourge into Obsidian Destroyers). However, some of those creatures are curiously found, at least presently, in only one of the sites. One such example are vrykul, of which there is little trace outside of Northrend, as well as mogu who appear only in Pandaria. But there is a theory that it’s not true, and finds of these races in other sites are simply missing. One of these could be the kvaldir, found commonly in the South Seas, possibly coming from a facility further south, perhaps even Uldaman, as well as the common among scholars theory of the Eastern Kingdoms Mogu.
Character: Captain Matus T. Manks of the Venture, boldly going where no gnome has gone before
The day began very usually. We read through the “nightly” shift’s mining reports and prepared for our work the following day. I must say living on a world tidally-locked to its sun can wreck one’s sense of time quite well. This red dwarf is stuck in eternal sunset and no matter when you wake up or when you go to sleep, you will always see the same amount of light, and our bodies are set to identify how tired they are by the amount of light in the environment. After spending a month on the duty of protecting the grav miners here, I find myself lying awake in bed for the whole time designated as “night” on our timetables, and then feeling completely tired for the whole “day”. But that was by far the least odd thing that happened to me yesterday.
Character: Moira Thaurissan, queen consort of the Dark Iron Clan, wife of Thane Dagran Thaurissan
The ram-driven cart drove quickly up the snowy slope leading up to Ironforge City. Moira, once a daughter of the local thane, hasn’t seen the city in years. In the interest of mending the fences between their clans, her father Magni gave her hand in marriage to the Thane of Dark Iron Clan, Dagran Thaurissan. Moira initially resented the idea of that marriage. Not only it was just another symptom of her father’s dubious love for her, there were always the stories people in Ironforge told about the Dark Iron Clan. That the great-mother of the clan, legendary Modgud, was some kind of cursed creature and her vile blood still remains in the veins of her descendants. That they secretely worship dark creatures and old, forbidden gods. But when Moira got to truly know her husband, she came to love him more than she ever loved her father. Magni, an overbearing man who always wanted to have a son and didn’t believe a woman could govern the clan, was a tyrant compared to Dagran Thaurissan, a warm and loving man who would jump into the pits of Firelands for her.
I really wish my debtors would stop winding up dead or otherwise incapacitated. I mean, technically the last one was a set up with a body procured by a lich, but this time it really happened. I sent a few people to track down a Forsaken who owed me some gold. I knew he was spending time around the Bloodmoon Isle in Grizzly Hills, researching the worgen curse, probably on behalf of the Banshee Queen, although he’d never officially admit it. So I got a few people together and sent them through a portal to Grizzly Hills and told them to look for that Forsaken. After interrogating some starving trolls, they learned he hid in a nearby crypt (what is with Forsaken and crypts?) and went in to investigate. Lo and behold, the Forsaken was dead and had no gold on him. But this is where the fun part starts.
No matter what you do, there are always repercussions down the line. Sometimes the most innocuous thing can result in a disaster. I believe it’s been called “butterfly effect” before – where a butterfly flapping its wings on the other side of the globe can cause a hurricane here. And I guess you could say we had a bit of a butterfly effect here yesterday. That is, if instead of butterflies you have time-shifting dragon whelps and instead of a hurricane you have “Old God-worshiping monstrosities nearly getting their hands on what would be a doomsday device for them”. It all began with that incursion – the alternate reality Poddric appearing and then committing suicide inside the tower, so close to the rift.
If you follow me on Twitter, you will have noticed a storyline happening today where me, Yu Gwai, Menrim, Lunk, Aeresham and Ballough took upon the Infinite Dragonflight invading the Tower of Krasha. If you don’t follow me on Twitter, what the fel are you doing here? A post tomorrow will explain what happened, so if you don’t want to get spoiled, don’t read on.
Character: Kel’thuzad, Court Sorcerer of Lordaeron
“I proclaim you guilty!” a verdict sounded across the throne chambers of Lordaeron. “I hereby sentence you to death,” King Blackmoore proclaimed with a hit of his royal scepter against the glided arm of the throne. The peasant threw himself on the floor, begging for mercy on his knees.
“Please, my king, forgive me,” he begged, “I just wanted to feed my family!” Aedelas Blackmoore was never well respected in the kingdom. He was always considered a ruthless ruler who claimed to be just but was anything but it.
“Enough!” Blackmoore shouted, and silenced the whispering crowd with a wave of his arm. “I proclaimed the sentence. There are no more appellations. You will be hanged at dawn.”
Although the peasant protested, he was carried away by the guardsmen. Many in the crowd murmured about the unjustice of this sentence, but I didn’t care. Justice is a term mortal men made up to make themselves feel better. The only thing that really matters in this cruel world is power. And Aedelas Blackmoore had power. By serving him, I would share in this power. But an even greater power evaded him…