Budge

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About Budge

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    Junior Member
  • Birthday 11/28/1983
  1. <p>Yes.. The Rise is open to other races.</p>

  2. <p>The Rise, seems very interesting, are you accepting other races to post as well?</p>

  3. Pain. It was as agonizing as it was sharp. It pulsated through his head, originating from under his jaw, travelling swiftly up his head, only to swell once more at the top of his crown as it struggled to exit his body. It exploded out in a sudden rush. He screamed although no sound came out, save for a bubbling gurgle of blood and fleshy pulp. He sat up, rubbing his head where the pain in his dream had left his head. It was hard, and smooth as bone, and at the time, it had felt natural. He blinked rapidly; his vision was blurred, as if there was some milky sheen across his pupils. He shook his head and tried to stretch his jaw to ease the stiffness he felt. That was the first realization that Nathanos Baskerville had that he was in trouble. Try as he might, his jaw did not move. Gingerly, he moved to place a hand on his chin to inspect it, only his hand passed through where it would have been and landed with a dry slop on… What? A voice stopped his mind from guessing. It was ethereal in nature, a female specter. He looked up to see the individual that it emanated from. She was mighty and at her back were massive white wings, although the detail of her features remained vague and indistinguishable. “I must be dead,” he attempted to say, but his jaw was still not there, and his loose tongue splattered about useless and helpless, so that it sounded like an incoherent garble. The floating woman seemed to understand him, regardless. She laughed. It was not the laugh of an angel as Nathanos had been taught to believe in. No… this was more an ominous cackle than anything else and it seemed to chill him more so than he already felt. He struggled to sit up, only then realizing that he lay on loose and wet earth. “You are dead,” the voice called to him. “We have brought you back, and we shall give you the ability to speak soon. One of the others is searching for an appropriate jaw for you.” Nathanos did not know what to say even if he could and so he remained silent. His vision remained blurry as he attempted to collect his thoughts. What had happened? As if the winged woman could pierce his thoughts, she answered. “We do not know what happened to your body in your past life, save for the fact your corpse washed upon our shores. The Lady Sylvanas has ordered all buried bodies to be risen anew. Here is your jaw.” Nathanos heard a dull thud as someone tossed an object at his side. He groped for it and found it had gnarled teeth and a cold slime about it. He held it but did nothing. It felt like a dream, like he would close his eyes and remember that he was Nathanos… Nathanos what? He knew he was a tracker to be certain, but memories of old seemed to flee his head, just as the pain within his skull had done so. He struggled to rise. “This one remembers you as a Gilnean,” the female’s voice floated to him, and she turned to a figured standing beside her. He was hunched, and seemed to be missing an arm, but it was his eyes. Despite his blurred vision, they glowed with an ominous amber fire. He was almost lost in them when he remembered her words. Gilnean? “Put on your jaw and speak your name anew, so that we may pose to you the choice we give all newly risen,” the winged woman said apathetically. Nathanos remembered the jaw in his hand and moved it to the gaping hole below his skull. With a few clicks, it joined with the top of his skull and the stiffness disappeared. He moved it about, testing its foreign movement. At last he spoke. His voice was not as he recalled, but then again, it seemed as if his brain was leaking memories. So Nathanos clung to the facts he knew like a life line. He uttered them with a gutheral groan to keep them fresh in his foggy mind. “Nathanos,” he repeated aloud. “Tracker,” he continued and ended by saying, “Gilnean.” His voice had an odd sound to it, like an accent that was muscle memory to his tongue perhaps? He could not say. The slouched body beside the woman cackled. “You’ll have competition from the Champion with that name,” the figure muttered. “But ‘Tracker’ is alright I suppose for a mortal man, but it ain’t befit of a Forsaken,” he croaked. “Choose another.” Nathanos never meant for ‘Tracker’ it to be his new last name. He struggled to remember his old name, but he had forgotten to cling to that memory and now it had fled with the rest of them. One image seemed too large to exit the hole atop of his skull though. It was a swinging, wind battered sign that creaked in the rain, the words painted and carved in the wood. It was some sort of signpost… for a pub perhaps. “Grimm,” Nathanos said as the image seemed to beat on his forehead. “Nathanos Grimm. Tracker, Gilnean.” As he spoke, the terrible view of the two strangers before him cleared. It was a hideous sight; a corpse with yellow eyes and a winged demon from stories that came in from merchant ships from the North. How did he remember that, but not his name? He clacked his new jaw. So he was as dead as the man beside the floating, winged woman. Surprisingly, the thought came to him as an oddity and not a vile thing to be repulsed.
  4. TRP2 is the best. Last time I used it though, it interefered with my Healbot on my healer toons. Other than that little complaint... it rocks.
  5. Budge

    Creedy

    The old retired Dwarf leaned back in his chair, a plume of smoke billowed from his unusually exposed lips. The Goblin held back a cough. after a taking a gulp of ale in which a bit splashed onto his beard, the retired Explorer cleared his throat. "Ah... let me tell ye abou' wee Creedy," he said hoarsely. "Runt 'll never let on he's sharp as a needle, but I know better. I'll give ye' an example. He came to me AFTER graduatin' from that gnomey school... wha' was it called again? Oh yea, Gearshaft University. That lad did some report he called a dissermentation or what have ye' on," he straightened, and clawed at the air with two fingers from each hand to place the next phrase in quotations, “"Gnomish Cute Factorials" if ye can believe it, an' now he uses that knowledge to his advantage. He's got no courage, an' he'll admit it. He lets on he's too small for tha word, an' him knowin' he's kraven makes 'em all the more dangerous. It means he's smart enough not to lie to himself. He knows he's no one's hero." The old Dwarf laughed, seeming to cough up a lung of more smoke, despite having not taken a drag from his wooden pipe in some time. "His mind is always churnin beneath them blue eyes.... an' it gives me tha shivers jus' rememberin' what he's like. Mark me Gobby; make him yer friend so that ye don't end up on the wrong side of those little knives he keeps up those sleeves of his." The Goblin scribbled furiously, and then queried how the Dwarf could be so sure of his opinion. "How? Oh, I could say I got me ways, but I'd be a liar, like he still is, no doubt. I taught wee Creedy all the useful things he knows; I taught 'em how ta dig fer treasures, I taught him some tricks abou' blowin' stuff up as an engineer, an' I taught him how ta stay alive, if ye can believe it. Gnomes like him are easy prey fer things bigger than they be, which seems to comprise of almost every creature out in the world, so I figured he needed my wits more than I did," Budge said laughing. He took another long gulp to wet his throat. "He was me apprentice until..." the Dwarf's brow furrowed and thickened soberly. "... well, until we had a bit of a disagreement 'bout the right 'n wrong of the Stonemasons becomin' the Defias." Budge sat back, placed the pipe between his teeth and made a shooing motion with his hands. Ale splashed from the tankard still clutched within one of them. "Leave me be. I'm old, retired, and tired o' rememberin' the past- what little my drunken brain keep up there at least. I know wee Creedy would say the word 'RETIRED' stood fer TIRED o' REmemberin' or some such nonsense. Or was that Mildred? Damn. See what I mean? Why di' ye think I retired to Coldridge eh? It's quiet, until ye showed up askin' yer questions an' such. Oh, an' if ye see the wee gnome, tell him I send me hellos, an' that the old ball n' chain is doin' me jus' fine," he said patting his big gut with a solid thud, sending more ale sloshing onto his beard and trousers.
  6. ((Whew... completed. Last Overhaul actually took me a step back from my intended destination. I plan to roll this toon out soon...))
  7. ((Yet another Overhaul.))
  8. Major update: Images and story overhaul...
  9. Is Resil so good that Rogues would be better off picking it up? In arenas I assume yes, but in BGs, I can't do enough damage in full PvP gear... whereas I crit and hit really hard in my PvE gear.
  10. Budge carries a multi-tool, a compass, a dirty ale stained map and and empty tankard... if such a thing fits in his pockets.
  11. (Any Alliance is allowed to partake in this. Get your toon drunk and join in! Go easy on me, this is my first attempt at an RP. I will usually respond on weekdays, but during the weekends my wife and I either play WoW or hang out with family. You are hereby warned :cool:) Within the drafty confines of the Pig and Whistle tavern hushed voices wafted on the stale brewed air as patrons enjoyed the company of friends, family, comrades or simply perhaps the drafted brew that they coddled. A few musicians filled in the gaps of the mumbling orchestra with light melodic notes that were typical of most establishments of this caliber. To add to the ambiance, clinking glass mugs and creaking wood from chairs and the floorboards only completed the resonance that made this tavern what it was. The flickering lights and deep shadows cast by the stairs on either side of the tavern made this a perfect place for seedier individuals to conduct business out of the public eye. That was not the reason that Budge Geargrind was here today, nor was the small diminutive Gnome paying any attention to the local scene and sound about him. He had his small fingers of both of his hands wrapped around a pint of ale. He set the brew down, a frothy foam framing his pink lips. His eyes appeared glazed and a small hiccup escaped him, precluding a small belch. With a wipe of his sleeve, his alcoholic disguise vanished from his face. The Gnome wore simple enough clothes; a sweat stained tunic covered by a crusty piece of leather. He wore a pair of goggles that were currently positioned above his eyes. He smelled of salt, oil and spirits. In Gnome terms he was pleasant enough on the eyes with sharp blue eyes and a clean shaven crown. One seasoned veteran who had quite enough to drink stumbled over to Budge’s table and slapped three gold coins on the table. Budge peered over the rim of his glass. “Sir Budge; noblemen of the destitute, savior of the oppressed and hero of orphans, we are in need of another one of your epic tales of glory. Indulge us will you?” A couple of lighthearted anticipatory chuckles rose from behind the man. Budge often told entertaining tales to those wanting to hear about heroism and glory. No one took him seriously and assumed they all had to be false; for who could believe that such a lush had once been capable of such amazing feats like the stories he told? No one. Exceptions to this occasionally came up to Budge afterwards only to leave him with more questions than they had brought to him to answer. Still, the stories were a cheap form of entertainment, and it often lifted the spirits of those trying to drown them in a glass. Appearing quite inebriated, Budge struggled to stand on his chair so he could clamber onto the wobbly table. Once upon his makeshift podium, he cleared his throat and held is glass high. While the music and drinks continued to flow, the whispers hushed considerably except for the patrons who where too engaged in their company to notice a Gnome swaying atop a table. This was usually when the laughs and good times began. Those that had never before been fortunate to hear an anecdote from the quixotic Budge Geargrind were in for a treat.
  12. ((Please do not assume you have access to this report. I found the premise of writing this for my Dwarf far more fun than a simple history. It also seems to match Budge’s character. If you would like to have in game knowledge of Budge or of this imaginary file, please PM me.... this file can be fairly easy to access.)) The file within your hands appears to have remained untouched for several years, buried underneath countless other leads that SI:7 followed until they determined they were not worth further investigation. Upon further inspection, it appears as if the contents of this file have been looked at recently, with scribbling addendums made in oil ink accompanied by beer stains… SI:7 Report #052897 Complied by: Agent Mereck Classification: Non-threatening File Status: Closed Full Name: Budge Grimguzzle Nickname: “Bud” Date of Birth: After the First War Age: Mid 30s Race: Dwarf Gender: Male Hair: A prestigiously silvery black. Skin: Fair Eyes: Cobalt Height: 4’ 5” Weight: 230 lbs. Place of residence: His secret lab/hideout is somewhere between Dun Morogh and the Wetlands… has a place in Duskwood and in Dalaran. Damn noseynooks. Correction: MY not-so-secret lab/hideouts now… Place of Birth: Unknown. Ironforge, ya ninnywits. Shows what a waste the SI:7 are! Known Relatives: Unknown. Religion/Philosophy: Unknown. Eh. Occupation: Ex-military, Tinker. Group/Guild affiliation: Budge was an Infiltration Specialist in the Northrend Exploratory Militia, Grizzly Hills Regiment, Beerblade squad. REPRESENT! Guild Rank: Unknown. Enemies: Horde, Fer harborin’ Trolls and Goblins, the twits Worgen. Damn furries can't be trusted I tell ya! Likes: Unknown. Drunks. The only ones ya can trust! Favorite Foods: Unknown. Bear Burgers Favorite Drinks: Spirits. Not just any spirits: Beer-flavored ale… and ale flavored beer. Favorite Colors: Not relevant. Steam and oil. Those have been proven to be colors… look it up. Weapons of Choice: Daggers, empty bottles, guns. Not in that order. Well… sometimes. Dislikes: Unknown. Snobs, religion, ninnywits, soberists (That is a classification, ya ninnywit), and sand. Hobbies: Tinkering, Fishing, Exploring. ...and doin’ whatever I please! Physical Features: Budge is a bit more cynical and stubborn thank many of his Dwarven kin and as such has a few more wrinkles on his face than the average Dwarf for his age. Otherwise, he appears to be a fairly standard beer glugging member of his race. Special Abilities: Budge can hide well in almost any setting and he has been considered to be a bit of a mad scientist genius by many of his peers in the field of engineering. Positive Personality Traits: Budge is loyal despite his roguish and curious qualities. He still believes in chivalry and remains very patriotic. If you prove you are a trustworthy person who can be counted on, he will always be there to help. He is crude but friendly and can hold his ale with his kin. Negative Personality Traits: Budge is crazy, slightly delusional, and paranoid about his work being leaked to Goblins and jumpy when sober. Am not. Clearly someone is out to make me look bad. Misc. Quirks: Budge’s time as a hermit in the wild and in his lab has made him slightly distant and therefore, socially inept. LIES, HOGWASH AND SLANDER. Background: Birth Budge Grimguzzle place of birth was not possible to determine, nor the date (Like I said… bloody waste of time the SI:7 are…). Subject showed a passion for adventure and exploring the snowy mountains of Dun Morogh as a child. He was enrolled in some Engineering classes at an extremely early age, often finishing his studies early to explore according to Ironforge Professor Bing Stonefist (Gold Rest his Soul). Despite his rushed studies, test scores show Budge was an engineering savant; his aptitude for it could be measured by how many Professional Mechanists were examining the Dwarf child for possible internships (16 of ‘em.. lined up at the gates!!!). Interviewees informed Agent Mereck that his exploration got him in a lot of trouble and often he had to sneak around various Ironforge Guards. Stealth and subtlety became Mr. Grimguzzle’s specialty atop of his mechanical knowledge, but navigation wasn’t. Witness reports state that Budge had a rather embarrassing incident with a Yeti den… an event that would have been a fiasco had Brunin “Crutch” Titanhorn the Explorer hadn’t have stepped in. The Explorer’s League Journeyman took Grimguzzle on as an apprentice to teach him the correct way to explore the world (Again, I gotta set this story straight?!?! He made me his apprentice ‘cause it was him in the bind you morons!). (See Appendix C: Witness Reports) If one were to flip through the file to look for Appendix C which contained the list of witness reports, one would find the file has been forcibly ripped from the report. With such a dead end, one may continue to return back to the original report. It continues as follows: SI:7 can conclude Mr. Grimguzzle discovered his passion for exploration could be turned into a career, for as the report indicated about Budge’s adolescent life will indicate, his knowledge of Azaroth and Engineering only continued to expand to engulf the Dwarf and later lead to his dangerous obsession and his impending paranoia; traits that make Mr. Geargrind a potentially dangerous individual. Adolescent Years and Employment Records indicate Budge Grimguzzle selected to be apprenticed to a Gnomish Professional Tinker named Thunker Cogpot. The elderly Gnome had retired from taking on apprentices, which would suggest Budge knew the opportunity that he had been given. It may also suggest the old Gnome was either becoming senile, or the exceptional engineering skill Budge displayed in Ironforge caused the scientist to make an exception. SI:7 seems to think the later. After Cogpot’s death, Grimguzzle inherited his laboratory and his schematics after being apprenticed to the Gnome for four years. He voluntarily apprenticed himself to the Explorer’s League Journeyman Dwarf Brunin “Crutch” Titanhorn. This ex-military Dwarf likely encouraged Budge to join the Militia to see the world and appease his curiosity about it. Apparently this subtle encouragement worked because as soon as Grimguzzle was of legal age to serve did so and became a private within the Northrend Exploratory Militia... one of the many Dwarves that accompanied the Militia into Northrend. Adulthood Alliance records show a few months after enlisting and training, Private Grimguzzle was deployed to Northrend. Circumstances are unclear as to what role he played during this time, as Agent Mereck has been unable to locate any records of service outside of his enrollment. SI:7 Agents confirm that Budge Grimguzzle has received a Knight’s Tabbard, though witness reports. Witnesses also point out that he claims the tabard was a gift to him from the Queen of Stromgarde. SI:7 has no intelligence or record of any Matriarch of Stromgarde, nor any individual using this as an alias. The Alliance logistics center has no reports of theft or loss of property to suggest Budge stole the tabard. Furthermore, it appears that Agent Mereck actually recorded a drunken conversation Grimguzzle had with the other patrons: A massive section is scribbled out, with a beer stained napkin glued over it with writing. It reads: “There we were, positioned around Bloodmoon Isle, all camo’ed up and and investigatin’. Barlow screamed first, and then the massacre hit. They knew we were there all along; damn canines sniffed a few of our men that were green ‘nuff ta sit upwind of ‘em. Despite their trainin’ the bloodlust in tha eyes of tha enemy caused the Beerblades to compromise there posistions… sure some of those furries got what came to ‘em, but we were spread out, and caught with our pants down, if ya get mah meanin’. After that, it was a chilly swim ‘cross the bay.” “Damn ambush. I got away only by killin’ fifteen of tha furries that went afta me without lettin’ them go a’ howlin’. Gotta stick ‘em in tha throat. I ain’t a Grimguzzle fer nothin’. The obvious retreat would a’ been west, so I swam south. Went as deep as me lungs allowed, I did. Once I got ta shore, I huddled up and took me clothes off to avoid freezin’ ta death. Seem backwards, but trust me. Wet leather just keeps tha chill that much closa to tha body. I found a path o’ earth, and used it to dry me wet bones an’ beard. That night was tha worse. Scremin’ that’ll drive a man wild echoed in tha night, and tha howlin’; oh Bronzebones tha howlin’ was tha worse! They never shut their traps, the lot of ‘em.” “Anyhow, I had ta put some ground between me and those snivellin’ hounds. Damn things were prolly on me tracks. Tha cliffs near Dun Argol, were blockin’ mah escape, and I had no way of scalin’ ‘em, so a made a rope outta me beard… the shame! But survival was paramount it was, and a beard, no matta how pristine, will grow back, Bronzebones willin’. Tha Gizzly Hills Regiment woulda forgave me for it, but I knew I couldn’t go back… damn furries were trackin’ me. I kept my headin’ south… had to lasso a polar bear just to put some headway between me and them furries…. Ol’ Betsy 's been with me ever since. She’s a stubborn beast… like me ex wife, the mulish wench! Based on this evidence, it appears that Budge Grimguzzle was elevated to the position of Infiltration Specialist of a squad named “Beerblades”, who were sent to investigate the Lich King's plans for an undead Worgen army. The report that Sergeant Drumtin of the Grizzly Hills Regiment filed is below: “The Beerblade squad was assigned to travel north of Howling Fjord and establish a base of operations in Grizzly Hills. The Grizzly Hills Regiment took about 300 Dwarves through the Northern Pass. Specialist Budge Grimguzzle was second in command of the Beerblades, a squad assigned to scouting and reconnaissance operations that also assisted in maintaining all mechanical gear for the Regiment. Once operations were established, the Beerblades were successful in every battle or skirmish they were engaged in; The Venture Company, The Drak’kari Trolls, and even the Furbolgs stood little chance against the Grizzly Hills Regiments’ finest; although we suffered vast casualties. The mood in the camps was a somber one. Despite the mood, I recall the Beerblades remained ever positive (granted the ale usually boosted their morale just fine). That was until one day, when the Beerblades were assigned to gather intelligence on the rising infestation of Worgen in the east and to engage any hostiles they encountered. They were equipped with highly experimental and unstable cloaking devices, a device that Budge had later improved upon. None returned. The operation was written off as a catastrophe and all squad members were classified as K.I.A. A memorial service was held in Grizzly Hills to honor their sacrifice.” It appears based on this compiled evidence; Mr. Grimguzzle survived a Worgen attack in Grizzly Hills. (Damn straight I did! Had ta let the Regiment think I had died... else they woulda started lookin' fer me... and the furries woulda tracked 'em! Not that it matters anymore... damn Alliance openin' their arms to the flea riddin' bastards...) The records of his presence go cold until months later, Goblin records show Mr. Grimguzzle briefly passed through the village of Booty Bay and purportedly pursued his passion with fishing and drinking and even learned a bit of Goblin engineering secrets through gambling, though the subject has been recorded complaining that the Goblins "stole" his working Lightweight Ultra-refracting Cloaking Infiltration Device or, L.U.C.I.D. as he drunkedly referred to it. SI:7 has a copy of the classified schematics currently being utilized in the field. During this time, SI:7 saw fit to closely monitor Mr. Grimguzzle's future contraptions. Damn Gobs stealin' my work and sellin' it to SI:7....I aint crazy... it's in writin' now. During his time in Grizzly Hills and Stranglethorn, SI:7 learned of a correspondence Budge Grimguzzle had with a female Dwarf named “Gabiana”. This individual could not be located nor her clan name traced, but merchant vessel’s crew manifest records show she was a mechanic onboard an Alliance merchant ship and was often out at sea for long periods of time. Their correspondences appeared harmless enough, but the letters were sent down to a decoder in Ironforge to confirm. The results were inconclusive, as there was a filing error and the letters are no longer retrievable. (Ain't no one's business... but that be me ex... ya know... the stubborn beast that almost had as much hair on her face as me... when I was a pebble) After this, all records of contact disappear. Some SI:7 contacts got wind that Budge is using several alias’ to protect his engineering experiments… but none ever provided any leads. SI:7 fears that with the inclusion of Worgens into the Alliance, the Dwarf might be preparing a device meant to target their ranks. SI:7’s position on Budge Grimguzzle is “Likely Threat”, and thus his activities are tracked by Flight Master logs and witness reports in the hopes one day he will get complacent and slip up in hiding his tracks. Case #052897 is classified as closed unless further evidence is deemed worthy of reopening this report. HA! What a crock of crap! SI:7 can like my harry *smudge mark* and wipe it with this "secure" document full of garbage. Well I made some adjustments of me own... enjoy! -Budge Grimguzzle OOC Notes not found in the Report: ((Those who know or observe Budge might know he is a capable hunter and fisherman, who can’t cook or tend to wounds, but tries nonetheless. Few could call Budge a true friend although he is likeable, who trusts or befriends a drunken crazy engineer? It is rumored that he has a wife and assumedly carries a picture of the two of them in his pocket, but that cannot be confirmed. He is often spotted in inns and barkeeps wearing simpleton cloths. He has an old Knight’s Tabard from the Alliance, though when pressed, he simply says it was a gift from the Queen of Stromgarde.)) ((Budge is quixotic, and only recently has been inquiring about venturing into running a small business about a gentlemen's club. His permit to have a legal bar is pending investigation. A small note in his file indicates he is known to kill canines of any sort he encounters, earning him some time within the Stormwind Stockades…)) ((Budge never stays in any place for long. SI:7 followed him back to Darkshire, his reason for residency being the mines… but he has been known to sleep in cut-throat alley and a myriad of other places. He claims to have a home in Dalaran, but no one has been able to find it, which only reinforces the theory that he is loony.))
  13. I appreciate the friendly discussion. Many of the drawbacks to this concept I have thought of myself (Especially the gear issue that Irontoe brought up). It did sound good on paper, but many of you are correct that the shortfalls of such a guild are very prominent hurtles that cannot be avoided, and must be trounced to succeed. While I would love to see an Alliance side Druid- only guild, I will have to store the idea in my mental achieves, at least until I have leveled my Druid up to a decent level. That or hope someone loves this idea so much that they start one on their own. If you do, let me know! My druid would be a faithful warden of Nature in a heartbeat!
  14. Thank you both for your constructive responses. I wholly expected to be chastised for my idea that I was sure was not original. It is a shame no one has revived this multifaceted concept. I was sitting at a local eatery at lunch contemplating this idea more, and the more I think about it, the more I liked it. Druids’ allegiance is to Nature, and not to one faction or another, so a cross factional all Druid guild on both Horde and Alliance is plausible and in fact even displayed in the Cenarion Circle’s success. I would love to see an Alliance and a Horde guild combine under similar names with identical banners. Let me illustrate an example: If the Horde chapter of the Druid Coalition (For lack of a better name) notices their comrades are doing too many quests in an area to kill turkeys or some rabbits and therefore might threaten to place said creatures on the endangered species list of the Druid Coalition, they can call upon their Alliance Chapter associates to maintain control over the area. Obviously the Druid who notices the infraction should warn the perpetrators before resorting to violence, but sometimes force is necessary in dealing with lowly poachers. I could see wardens sent out to simply monitor the area and report activities that violate the natural balance of Nature… etc. I see cross faction gatherings where no side kills each other, but flies/patrols/gathers in unison to display their unity to both Horde and Alliance. I see a force with such influence to be able to help dictate the natural course of some RPs, i.e.: “Well bob, I would love to incapacitate Onyxia to take a scale from her, but then we’ll also have the Druid Coalition on us, and they did say she is a rare breed of Dragon...” Thoughts?
  15. So as you may or may not know, I have not really gotten into RP much on here, mainly because (A) I don’t really know how to, and (B) I cannot seem to connect to a Dwarf Hunter (not yet…. Though I am developing him). That however, is beside the point that I diverge from. I was curious if anyone has ever given thought to creating an all Druid Guild. Druids are like Paladins in that respect; they can actually solo raids as a single class. If so, I have a druid I am grooming that would LOVE to join such a guild. I was also wondering if this said guild has ever turned to an all Horde Druid guild to make it a “sister” guild for lack of a better phrase. This would and could lead to some excellent RP opportunities. I would assume both guilds when doing an event together, would have to be on Ventrillo in an effort to not kill each other inadvertently. I was curious if my inquisition stirred any interest in this notion, or is this something I should abandon as frivolous? I admire the guild Fabled Order for being able to actually raid and be largely successful using one class. Are they the only ones to do so?