[[Template core/front/profile/profileHeader is throwing an error. This theme may be out of date. Run the support tool in the AdminCP to restore the default theme.]]

Community Reputation

10 Good

About Rolphemona

  • Rank
    Junior Member
  • Birthday 06/28/1991
  1. Rolphemona sat motionless in the small shack in Tirisfal. The enchanted set of ears circled the perimeter, staying low to the ground. The mage had carefully purged all wildlife from the immediate area after nearly losing one of them to an unusually large rat. "This is what we're reduced to," the floating lips whispered. Rolphemona swatted them away. He was still doing his duty, that was all he needed. "Could have more," the lips added. They'd been doing that a lot lately. He'd ruled out other influences, leading him to conclude that they were speaking on behalf of some inner voice of his own. The jawless mage made use of the enchanted lips to speak, but why he'd kept them... He hadn't needed to speak in months. "Could go to the mountains. Could slice up some bandits," the lips suggested. Maybe they weren't all bad. As the mage stood, he heard a distant noise. It sounded familiar... He recalled the enchanted ears. He realized the sound was coming from inside the shack... And now he knew what it was. He removed the stone from the small bag he carried. Listening to the warlord's message, the lips stretched into a grin. Rolphemona stared at them for a moment before turning his attention towards preparations. It had been some time since a visit to the Undercity, and while he'd kept himself busy, nothing could quite compare to what he could do under the banner of Infection. It was time for a return to proper service.
  2. "Where's the servant?" "Probably still standing in the field. Didn't tell him to come inside." "Yes, I see him. Where'd you find him?" "Roadside. Lying in a ditch. Had one of those new Mind Control devices on his head. Doesn't work, but he's fried. You have to walk him through tasks, but he does it until you say stop. I could set him to dig through the mountain and he'd try to do it with his hands." "Right. Just keep him out of here, who knows what he might hear." "He hasn't got ears. Even if he did, who's he going to tell with no jaw?" A field in northern Tirisfal Glades. In it were planted a variety of herbs. Apothecary supplies. Two Forsaken sat in the house near the field, talking. The sun was going down, and they had planning to do. "The orc diplomat and the High Executor will be here," one said, pointing to a point on a map of Brill. "Their route changed a bit, we'll need to find a new site. We only have three days." "This way's more central. More guarded. Does someone know? Maybe we should wait..." "We've waited. Twice already we've changed targets, and three times we've changed attack points. We're going to do this." "Once we do, there's no going back..." "SERVANT!" The servant entered. A jawless forsaken male with dull eyes and no ears. He wore tattered cloth garments. "Get the box from the crawlspace beneath the barn and bring it here. Touch nothing else." "He knows about the crawlspace?" "What, did you think I handled those bombs myself? Those are liable to go off if you bounce them wrong. He carries them, the components are easy to put together. I tell him to put one wire in here, connect the explosive material there, easy." The servant departed, and the two resumed planning. Unaware that concealed behind a shelf, a single ear, gnomish in origin, floated. "This cart. It goes in every day, if the guards are going to be lax about anything, it'll be this. They must have inspected it a thousand times." "Perhaps this will finally mean separation... Shame the Lady's people must die with that filthy orc." "They chose to allow him into their town. They'll die as they deserve." "Where's that servant?" The lantern went out. The two looked up just in time to see something zip past them, under the door. "You have rats here?" "Who doesn't have rats. SERVANT!" The door opened and the servant entered. He carried a large wooden box. "Set it down slowly and carefully, you dolt! And turn the lanterns back on!" The lantern ignited. The two stared at it. It was across the room from them and the servant. In the glow of the flame, they saw something moving. It darted in and out of their sight, eventually hovering in front of them. A pair of lips floated in the air, mold and decay covering them. Skin fell to the floor as they watched. The lips moved, sound coming from them. "You have a problem much bigger than rats," the lips said slowly. "Much bigger indeed." "Show yourself!" the home's owner yelled, grabbing a dagger from his boot. "Who else... But the one you brought into your home? The one who got your name from Her Majesty's spies... The one who knows everything you intend..." The lips glided over to the servant, to rest near his shoulder. He still held the large box of volatile explosives. The plotters rose, but the box made them hesitate. "What's wrong?" the lips taunted. "You instructed me in their creation. The extras are my contribution. Added when you believed I was spending the night standing in the field, as you instructed." "Extras?" the home owner asked, the first flicker of fear appearing in his eyes. "You'll see," the servant said. He released one hand, holding the box by one handle. The plotters flinched. "You'll die too!" one yelled. "I won't," the servant said, releasing two fingers. "I'm magic." He released. A quick spell, and he was outside. He didn't flinch as the shrapnel and debris from the explosion headed his way. He knew the blast radius. He entered the flaming wreckage of the house. The Lady's guards would arrive soon, he knew. He found one of the horribly charred corpses. Too destroyed. He located the other. The head had been blown clear by the shockwave, the top was dented, but what he wanted was usable. The rotting lips crumbled to dust as he sliced the lips from the head. He passed one hand over them and they floated up near his head. "New lips. Those of a traitor," he said. He walked into the forest, away from the still burning wreckage. The gnome ear floated behind him. Perhaps a trip into town. It had been some months since his last. He headed towards the road, pulling up his hood as he went. The Forsaken once known as Ambassador Rolphemona was not yet ready to be recognized. But it couldn't hurt, really, just to visit Brill.
  3. So the Horde gate dropped in IoC and this happened. http://i224.photobucket.com/albums/dd310/Rolphemona/PurpleBlockGate3.jpg http://i224.photobucket.com/albums/dd310/Rolphemona/PurpleBlockGate2.jpg http://i224.photobucket.com/albums/dd310/Rolphemona/PurpleBlockGate.jpg Horde would go on to win the game, following the failure of the Alliance attack on Agmar as a result of inability to get reinforcements. That's right, the thing was impassable.
  4. "A patrol through the sewers? Whose idea was that?" Bragor Bloodfist, Captain of the Korkron Vanguard in the Undercity, demanded. "You ordered it!" His subordinate, one of the many Korkron Overseers answered. "I did not! Why would I order a patrol of the sewer, there's nothing there!" "But they got orders! They told me they came straight from Orgrimmar, that there was something happening in the sewer!" Bloodfist spat. "Not as though we can ask them now." He glanced down into the canal where the bodies of two Overseers were being retrieved by orcs with long poles. "We swept through the sewer. There was nothing, not a single damnned thing that should have made them go in there. And the orders didn't come through me, so they didn't come from Orgrimmar!" Bloodfist slammed a fist into the side of the stone arch. The bodies were hauled up onto solid ground. The overseer with Bloodfist turned one over. The front was bruised from the fall from the high sewer pipe down into the canal. In addition to this, a small stab wound on the side of the orc's neck could be seen, the area around it swollen. Bloodfist kicked the other body over. "It's the same. This was murder! We will find whoever did this... And he will suffer before he dies!"
  5. Ambassador Rolphemona <The Spellreaver> Berserk- Rolphemona is not foolish enough to hold anything back when under attack by ten to twenty-five people. He begins the fight in berserk mode. Since I'm bored, here's something assuming Ambassador Rolphemona is silly enough to hold back. Phase One Abilities Diplomacy- Rolphemona takes control of one of your raid members, causing them to try to convince others to join the cause. The controlled raid member will cast a five second channelled spell at another member which, if not interrupted, will cause them to be mind controlled as well. Glories of the Past (Passive)- Causes all raid members to be reduced to the trained abilities they had in Vanilla WoW. Does not affect talented skills. Phase Two Abilities (66%) Same abilities as phase one, plus: Mirror Image- Spawns five mirror images which will fight for Rolphemona. The images have 100k health each. Every ten seconds, Rolphemona will trade places with one of his images, restoring the image in question to full health. This ability will be used twice during phase two. Diplomatic Immunity- Rolphemona becomes immune to all damage for 20 seconds. During this time he will continue to damage the raid, but not switch places with any of his images. Will only be cast while images are alive. At 20%, he enters phase 3. Phase Three Same abilities as phase one, plus: The Ultimate Spec- Rolphemona will randomly cast living bomb, deep freeze and arcane barrage on raid members. Deep Freeze and Arcane Barrage function as they do for players, but living bomb will launch the target 65 feet into the air when it detonates. Fall damage will be fatal if the player is not topped off while in the air. Kiting- Occurs at 5%. Increases melee damage done to Rolphemona by 300%. All players with more spellpower than attack power will recieve +3000 attack power. All players are silenced. At this point, Rolphemona will begin running in a circle around the room, while casting various slowing abilities, including Cone of Cold and Frostbolt Volley. Potions and healthstones are useable, but at this point, the only counter is to kill Rolphemona before he kills the raid. Berserk- Rolphemona will allow three minutes per phase. If a phase goes beyond this, he will enrage, dealing unhealable damage. Quotes Aggro- Let the record show, you attacked me. Killing a player, phase one- A good cadaver for the apothecaries. Entering phase two- We shall have to try something a little different. Diplomatic Immunity- I am untouchable. Killing a player, phase two- That's quite enough from you. Remember, you started it. Entering phase three- You will not defeat me! I am the SPELLREAVER! Beginning of Kiting- Round and round we go... Killing a player, phase three- It's a shame... I can't do a thing with that body. About time. Berserk- You'll need to be faster than that! Death- 10/25 to one... It was... a forgone conclusion...
  6. Many lore characters have met their ends in Burning Crusade and Wrath of the Lich King. I want to know who, in your opinions, is the safest from dying within WoW's limits. Justification is optional.
  7. <p>*waves* Herro</p>

  8. A pair of lips. ...that's really about it.
  9. Not Draenei, the only ones that got off Argus are the ones Velen happened to like. Gnomes did it to themselves, when does any good come from researching chemical weapons? I don't know if Azeroth has a problem that didn't somehow originate with the Night Elves. Dwarves haven't really had anything overly tragic happen to them. Humans, sort of sucks to be them, kingdom destroyed then just when it's rebuilt, its northern counterpart gets turned into an undead city. That and being Vrykul mutants can give me some sympathy for them. Tauren haven't had it too bad, I don't think. Sure, they had a hard time with the Centaur, but it's nothing every race in Azeroth probably didn't have to face at some point in their history. The trolls haven't had the best time of things, but it could be so much worse. At least nobody's really holding them responsible for the summoning of various evil things their brothers are doing. Orcs, pretty tragic. Reasons for this have been stated. Forsaken, also tragic, but it could be a lot worse for them. They have their own city, and they're by far the most stable group in Lordaeron. Blood elves are former night elves.
  10. "Up." A foot jabbed at Rolphemone's cloak, just barely visible beneath a heap of Zul'drak snow. "Get up. We know who you are." That was an orc captain. Rolphemone continued to ignore him, and the other members of the group. The foot drew back for a kick, but Rolphemone got up before it could land. "Ya, ya... Watcha want?" he asked, in the voice that he called "speakin' to da crazies". "You're under arrest for treason, and fleeing from justice. You will come with us." Rolphemone snorted, making no response until one of the orcs opened his pack, and began rummaging in it. "Ya don't wanna do dat..." The orc ignored him, continuing his search. Then something shifted in the bag, and began to tick. Tick. Tick. Ticktickticktick. The five orcs threw themselves out of the way, hurling the bag at Rolphemone. The troll took advantage of this to seize the bag, which contained a stolen alarm clock, and run for the bushes. The orcs, realizing what had happened, began to follow... When a loud roaring noise made them stop. They looked up, and they saw Rolphemone grinning from the seat of a flying machine. He prodded his hula-girl doll on the dashboard, making it nod mockingly at the orcs below. One of them threw his axe at the machine, but by this time it was far too high. "Don't be silleh, mon. Orcs got no wings." Rolphemone fiddled with the controls of the machine, which quickly turned in midair and flew off, heading in the direction of the Storm Peaks. Rolphemone pulled a pair of goggles out of the pocket of his frayed pants, and put them on. 100% visibility would be needed to navigate the Peaks.
  11. <p>Hey old man, hows it been?</p>

  12. "Members of Sanctuary, this is Vilmah. We are under attack. I don't know why, and I don't know how, but the guild halls are under siege and it appears that no place is safe. I urge you all to gather at our secret meeting spot. I need to know that you're safe. Please, keep the lines of communication clear. If need be, destroy your hearth stones. They can be replaced. You can't. Be careful, everyone. Strength and honor." These words issued from beneath a snowdrift, in the northern portion of the Dragonblight. A moment later, the snowdrift moved. "...Wha?" Rolphemone sat up, dislodging the snow that had gathered on him during the night. He rummaged in the snowdrift for a moment, finally managing to extract his bag. "Where are ya, ya little buggah..." He pulled out his hearthstone. "Destroy it, ya?" He had long since lost any reluctance to talk to himself. Five months alone travelling through Northrend tends to do that to a troll. He searched through his bag again, and pulled out a large hammer. This he used to shatter the stone into dozens of pieces. "Meeting place. Ya, I can do dat..." He glanced south, towards Moa'ki Harbour. Best to keep to neutral towns for now. He picked up his bag, his sword and his shield, and began walking south, his trail quickly covered by the gathering blizzard.
  13. Unfortunately, I can't find the screenshot of this. Way before BC, when days-long matches were common, I entered an Alterac Valley that was three days old. Since I'd entered first thing in the morning on my holiday, I had about 8 hours in that battleground before I had to log off. The pleasant result was that I got 1500 HKs in one day, and bypassed Sergent, going directly to Senior Sergent. For those who are curious, I was in fact in that BG when it ended... Somewhere around the sixth day. Rolphemona
  14. This is a plan for a potential RP-PVP event I've come up with. Any feedback, suggestions, questions or concerns are appreciated. Keep in mind that this is currently in the earliest stages of planning, and will likely need refining before it can actually be done. Shard of Time: Blackrock Spire Some twenty years ago, the Horde flooded through the Dark Portal for the first time. The war for the world itself raged, as the Horde ravaged Stormwind. However, in Lordaeron, they came face to face with a foe their equal. The Alliance, under Anduin Lothar, managed to push Orgrim Doomhammer and the Horde back to Blackrock Spire. As history knows, the Horde were defeated here after Doomhammer's charge from the spire, and the death of Lord Lothar. Recently, however, a malicious force has created a temporal rift between our time and then. What is more unsettling, is that those who pass through the portal to the past find themselves participants in the battle that ultimately decided the outcome of the first war. Two of those who passed through, and Human Warrior and an Orc Warrior, have even found themselves to be standing in the places of the Commanders. Each group must now reenact the battle of Blackrock Spire, but the outcome may no longer be assured... The intent behind this event would be to allow us to experience the First War's turning point. For the event itself, we would require a human warrior or paladin, and an orc warrior. These would have to be experienced players, as they will be the commanders of each side. For visual appearances, you would need to use your imagination, and picture that only humans and orcs meet on the battlefield. I am aware that there is not much here as of yet; but I hope that with suggestions and comments, this event will become something that everyone will want to take part in. Rolphemona
  15. To the thought that Durotan was asassinated in Dun Morogh, I bring up the fact that Thrall was separated from the Frostwolf Clan at that time. In lord of the clans, Aedelas Blackmoore found him "Not very far from Durnholde". Therefore if there is indeed a conflict, I believe it is Tides of Darkness that has the problem, not Lord of the Clans.