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About Broxigan

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    Senior Member
  • Birthday 07/08/1983

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  1. <p>Still think about you from time to time, man.</p>

  2. <p>...Boy, it has been a long ass time, hasn't it?</p>


  4. <p>*pesters* Poooooost.</p>

  5. She decided to share her lollipop with me. Here is what she was dressed as. http://www.advancedanime.com/pictures/normal_milk1.jpg
  6. Broxigan felt his heart sink into his stomach as he heard Evanthe. The name stung in his ears as he turned to face Evanthe's voice, stunned, shocked. It couldn't be...why would it? Sabachthan? THE Sabachthan? The same one who... Confusion wrapped around the orc's already muddled mind. He never forgot about those times, the days with the Ghants, Malorii, his time at Melor Danashj. But the feelings of those times, those were buried. And for good reason. But what was once locked away flooded back all at once. Broxigan looked around him blindly. But whatever was on his mind, whatever he was about to say, it was interrupted. In the light of the Pale Lady, the orc collapsed beneath a sudden weight. All he knew was it was something beyond his knowledge. It wasn't something he could grab, but the weight slammed to orc down to his knees, dropping both maces and digging his calloused hands into the dry earth of the Barrens. The orc clenched his teeth and screamed out in pain. He could feel all sense of life around him fading beneath that wall of Shadow. He opened his mouth to speak but all that slipped out was a painful scream as the Shadow pushed harder into the orc, tendrils of dark energy penetrating seamlessly through his skin, wracking his brain, his emotions. Pain shot through every nerve in his body. And it wasn't long before his arms gave out beneath him, his forehead slamming into the dry earth as he closed he eyes, groaning and crying out in pain from the Shadow. "Help..." was the only thought he could manage to muster out of the confusion.
  7. The shrill of the mechanical creation caught Broxigan off guard, causing him to quite literally jump and quickly begin to spin where he stood, sharply turning his head from left to right as he prepared himself for whatever Vee had saw. Both arms reached beneath his tattered cloak, pulling out two square-ended maces, gripping them tightly as the orc crouched slightly, holding both weapons out to either side. The cloak parted off his shoulders and draped down his back, his body covered in light leathers, padded for protection from anything physical. It was the magical energies that always managed to get him. And Broxigan was oblivious to the Shadow that consumed the area, oblivious to the sound of the crackling grass beneath the undead's feet, due mostly to his own shifting and turning about violently in hopes of thwarting off whatever was coming. Though, the shielding that Evanthe offered was somewhat familiar, it seemed to fade all too quickly, causing the orc to become a little disoriented at the situation. The mechanical squirrel finally calmed the alarming shrill and began to chitter and beep frantically. Brox turned his attention towards where Evanthe stood, not realizing his attacker was in mid-flight, hearing unfamiliar words come from the elf. "Evanthe!" he called out, "What is going on?!" [so very sorry for the delay.]
  8. <p>Doing it now! So very sorry. I have been so very wrapped up.</p>

  9. <p>Post post post.</p>

  10. Oh my god. I am going to be a very happy boy if I can pull off what I want with this.
  11. Does Vue 8 Infinite allow for, say, terrain maps? Like, laying out a globe or topography map?
  12. What programs do you use for your stranglethorn one?
  13. The night came and went quickly and Broxigan spoke not a word to Evanthe from dusk till dawn the next day, sitting quietly in the bunk he rented until it was time to head out and meet his potential help. The night was filled with no sleep, as was the norm lately. And the hustle and bustle of the small goblin port provided the orc with a bit of entertainment to break the silence, at least. He sat there on the bed, leaning back against the wall, his eyes closed as he tried to fight the inner turmoil that was raging inside of him. If anyone spoke a word to him, he didn’t notice. He muttered ancient hymns he had picked up in hopes of calming the elements. Recited prayers from the books of the Light he had skimmed through and even plead to any other creature not of this world to listen and help. And nothing returned. Nothing but the usual banter. And when the sun began to set once again, Broxigan finally stirred, groaning and yawning as he reluctantly pulled himself out of the bed and proceeded to gather his belongings.He packed away what few possessions he brought with him, threw on the light leathers he wore and topped it all off with his tattered cloak, pulling it tight around his form, pulling the hood over, shadowing most of his features. He then went down below, paid the innkeeper for both his and Evanthe’s stay. The orc then trudged out the front of the inn and waited for the elf to follow. the air was still thick and humid from the rain the day before, and the temperature was no help. When he heard he footsteps, he smiled some. “Thanks Evanthe, again. Really...” He paused a short moment then swallowed tightly, “Let’s head on out.” Vee climbed out from the orc’s pouch, scurried up the cloak to rest on his shoulder, letting out a chitter. Even out here, in the middle of the Barrens, the voices screamed. It was as if no matter where the orc went, they would follow. It was becoming more obvious that it may not be specific locations that set them off, but infact, himself. He winced as he blindly lead Evanthe out into the middle of the wildlands, Vee beeping and chittering softly to Broxigan, the orc occasionally changing direction sharply or taking a moment to pause, talk things over with the squirrel and continue on. The shadows of the night quickly crept upon the plains, the only source of light being the stars that hung lifelessly above and the White Lady looming over all. The duo arrived nearly an hour earlier than the applicant provided, nearly half an hour north of Taurajo was requested. “Well, here we are, I suppose, so long as Vee is correct,” Broxigan said as he turned to face Evanthe, reaching up to scratch at his cheek some. “About half an hour north of Camp Taurajo. Do you see anyone, Eva?” A light breeze blew across the plains, the orc pulling his cloak tighter around himself as he shivered. Something felt off. Something wasn’t right. Even above the constant bickering that raged in his mind, something told him this was a bad idea. But the orc pushed the thoughts away. Shoved them to the dark recesses of his mind. Nothing would turn him away now. Not with Evanthe here. Not when someone could provide an answer and solution. Broxigan would achieve his goal at any coast: Peace and quiet.
  14. "Forever in your debt, huh? If it will cure me of this affliction, I will do just about anything," he said with a slight grin as he reached out and pulled the notes back to him, pocketing them beneath his cloak. "I am going to turn in for the evening. I will meet you outside tomorrow, all right?" He stared towards the elf, smiling some as he then sighed, pushed himself from the chair and made for his bunk for the night, trudging along as though his legs weighed a hundred pounds each.
  15. “Where to begin,” he echoed absently as he shook his head, bringing his left hand up to run across his scalp and through his hair. “I am an idiot,” her muttered simply. The orc lowered his voice and spoke down into the table. “To be frank about it. I screwed up. I messed up. Again.” He paused a moment before continuing. “I am not sure if you remember just how I went blind. Rather, the reason. Spirits, foolishly toying with Shamanistic practices of old. Attempting to commune with ancestors and spirits. I ended up opening myself to something dark. I was troubled deeply with them consistently. Day and night. Sabachthan and a few others helped me by proxy. I ended up blind and free of the turmoil in my mind. I abandoned all practices of the shaman ways that always fascinated me for years. I thought I had more control. I had dug deep into scrolls and spoke with many skilled shamans. I picked it back up, as you may know. But here I am, again. Full circle. I hear the voices again. But it isn’t the same as before. The voices I hear now are the elements, Evanthe. Wind, fire, earth and water. And they are in complete chaos. I have tried everything to cut myself off from them. Salves, elixirs, voodoo practices. But they will not shut up. They try to tempt me. They try and control me. They scream. They yell. They fight. I disposed of my totems. I left the lands of Feralas where I used to consistently speak with them. And they were calm for so long. But recently... I opened a door I cannot close. Again. And I am afraid that I just might break this time and give in. It’s not like I can go through what I did before. Not that I would trust him again, but Sabacthan is gone. I can’t do this again. I have nothing left to give up in exchange for silence. What would they take next? My hearing? My voice? Then what would I be but a pathetic lump. A blade has never felt like an exit. Not before now. And I need help...that’s what I wrote for you,” he said, tailing off as he swallowed tightly. He let the silence linger a moment longer before he reached into his cloak and pushed two letters to the center of the table. “But I am looking. And I would feel better if you went with me. I don’t know how much you dabble in the forsaken arts now a days, but I know you have knowledge. One of the very few of them I trust. And I want you to go with me to meet these two people. I hope...I really hope they can help without killing me,” Broxigan said, skirting around the heavy details. “But at this point, it is the only exit I have. And I have nothing else to lose. You are the only one I have spoken to in so long. And now, having been exiled from the Horde...” He shook his head once again. “The nearest one is out in the Barrens. They said they would like to meet by tomorrow night. And I would forever be in your debt if you came along.”