Bright_Ops

Echoes of Lordaeron (warcraft RP)

Just posting here to let people know this isn't dead.

Civilization III: A New World

The Mustaqilun Tribe [Turn 2]

Summery

Event: Rukdug is attacking the problem in four different but connected ways.
1. Tried to calm his peoples nerves by changing the story from 'Morog was killed by a big scary monster' to 'Morog was a moron who wandered off alone into unknown, hostile territory and he'll be shoveling shit for the rest of his life if he's still alive'.
2. He's declared that all orcs that can wield a weapon should have one on them at all times, if not close at hand if they can't have it on them to help them protect themselves and others.
3. Until further notice, hunting parties going out are to be 5 hunters at the smallest. Larger groups require permission from the Warchief/Regent with a valid reason for the extra hunters. 5 is considered the perfect balance of strength/safety in numbers and being able to move and stealthy to actually catch prey.
4. Rukdug is taking a team of 4 other hunters and trackers, as well as the two orcs from Morog's hunting party, to find where Morog split off from the group and follow his trail to find out what happened to him and if he is actually dead (he is called Rukdug the Hunter for a reason after all). Said two orcs have been promised that if not enough evidence of what happened to Morog can be found, they will be found guilty of his murder and horribly interesting things will happen to them for the rest of their short lives.

Action: A) Improve food

Captain Nyorgha the Liberator has been left as regent warchief while Rukdug is out hunting and has been left with an important job: Find a food source stable enough to last the orcish tribe until at least farms can be sown and crops grown. Rukdug made several suggestions but made it clear that as long as she find at least one method of keeping them all fed without resorting to eating each other, he doesn't care what she picks.

"For farks sake! I didn't think gathering everyone here to have this talk was needed because it was basic common sense, but clearly I was wrong because... what was his name?" Rukdug's angry rant was briefly put on hold as the name of the exact target of his ire had briefly escaped him. Shortly after one of the hunters had gone missing and the two 'survivors' of the group returned, the Warchief had taken the time to gather everyone who was currently in camp in order to have a little chat...

Even as the crowd had been gathered it was clear that there was some degree of concern in the air; Not fear, but between an idiot wandering off on his own and disappearing and the dwindling food stores, the possibility of a bad future was drifting into view like a dark storm cloud. Action had to be taken and taken now, before the situation had the chance to spiral out of control.

Shaking his head and making a dismissive gesture big enough to be seen by most of the crowd, Rukdug swung back into irritated leader mode before anyone else in the crowd had a chance to actually call out Morog's stupid name. "Bah! Doesn't matter what his name was, if he's still alive when I find him his name is going to be changed to shithole digger; His punishment for stupidly going into unknown and hostile terrain alone will be to dig and clean out cesspits until the day he farking dies!"

Even as the beginnings of a murmur started to raise in the crowd, Rukdug brought his hands together in a thunderous clap to silence his listeners and keep the focus on him and what he was saying. "We're going to be going back to basics here people! The very stuff that was beaten into your skulls since the day you were able to crawl. Until further notice, the following is to be considered law until we are in a position where we can change them."

Taking a deep breath, he began. "Rule number one: At all times, all orcs able to wield a weapon is to have one close at hand, if not on their body at all times. Simple enough, most of you do it anyway already. It's just common sense."

"Rule number two: Until we have a better lay of the land and knowledge of what lives here, all hunting parties heading out into the wilderness are to be made up of no less then five hunters. Forming a hunting party larger then five requires my personal blessing with a reasonably valid reason for the extra bodies. Now before any of you start whining, I did the math; There is little in this world that could survive five orc hunters working together to bring it down and five hunters is the perfect mix of safety in numbers while still being quick and stealthy enough to actually catch something. You're not coddled humans or prissy elves, you're orcs so act like it!"

For the first time since his commanding rant had started, Rukdug actually paused long enough to let the crowd absorb what he was saying. Taking the chance to catch his breath fully, when he started shouting again it lacked the angry bite that it had while he was explaining the rules of common sense. "Now that's out of the way... Luza, Glomp, get your asses out here front and center!"

Luza and Glomp, the two orcs from the hunting trip that Morog was lost on, scrambled out of their spots at the front of the crowd and stood ridgy at attention; A hold over from Warchief Pash the Glutten, whom was prone to arbitrarily killing those who didn't show enough respect when he had deemed fit to give them an audience. The two were sweating, nerves eating them from the inside out as Rukdug looked from one to the other.

Then he smiled. They started to sweat more. "Luza, Glomp... I'm going to give you something that would never have happened across the sea. I'm going to give you the chance to prove yourselves innocent." The crowd went deathly quiet, staring at history in the making before them as Luza and Glomp stood there, stunned before Rukdug explained what was going to happen. "The two of you, myself and four hunters and trackers of my choice are going to find the spot were Morog parted ways from your group to go off on his own and then follow his trail to discover his fate. If your story checks out you will be found innocent; If we cannot find Morog or enough evidence to rule out foul play on your parts... well, the rest of your short lives are going to be frightfully interesting..."

Watching as the two 'hunters' gulped in fear, Rukdug turned his attention away from them for one final announcement. "Until my return, Captain Nyorgha is in charge. Nyorgha, I would speak with you before my departure. Everyone else, you're dismissed. We've all got work to do."

.......................................................

Once it was just Rukdug and Nyorgha, the Warchief felt himself relax a little. There were few orcs in his life before they crossing that he trusted and Nyorgha the Liberator was one of them. She had just been a grunt when he had first met her and took her on as one of his squad. Through at times she annoyed the hell out of him, she had proven herself time and time again to be competent and loyal; attributes that had helped her rise to be the youngest captain in the known history of Nomar during the removal of of that fat fool Pash.

Attributes that would serve him well still.

"What do you need me to do Rukdug?" She asked, getting straight to the point for once due to the seriousness of the situation.

"I need you to find and secure some kind of stable food source... or at least stable enough that we can get some farms going. Send out hunting parties, gather and pen animals, forage for fruits and roots... hell, if you can somehow manage it make some nets that we can stick in the river to catch fish. I don't care what you get or how you get it, just make it happen."

Nyorgha smirked at the request. "That all? Consider it done."

Civilization III: A New World

The Mustaqilun Tribe [Turn 1]

Short version

Event Option A: The Eastern Fork.
Action Option C: Improve Infrastructure (Making a base)

The decision of where to set up their home was a challenging one and it was one that bothered Rukdug during his journey down Hardship's Respite. After his scouts had made their reports, he had briefly considered selecting the place where the two forks met in order to secure both resources that the forks offered before casting it aside. Some many have called it paranoia, but the possibility of the Dark One taking enough of an interest in them to actually send an attack to punish them...

One didn't raise up the ranks to Warchief by being naive. Paranoia was healthy when the shadows often held knives waiting for a moment to strike. There was only one answer that he could give as Warchief that would allow him some measure of rest at night.

His decision made, he quickly delegated tasks out to subordinates to spread the news and prepare them for the final stage of the trek. They were going to follow the eastern fork towards the mountains and make full use of its defensive position and the ease in which stone could be gathered to build themselves a secure power base.

Rukdug took pride in the fact that he was the leader of some of the best and brightest wall breakers the world had to offer and it didn't take much thought to consider that the same know how that could bring down enemy walls could be used to build walls that were much more challenging to breach, but he wasn't expecting the greatest fortress the world had ever seen. That would take time and planning that could be done later on. Right now, he needed somewhere safe and secure that his people could call their own.

Civilization III: A New World

The Mustaqilun Tribe [Turn 0]

When the first ship had managed to beach itself against the sandy shore, a great cheer had gone up from not just those on board, but also from other ships that were following behind that could see the promise of a new land before them. The ships themselves were ugly and battered things; They appeared to have been made in haste with limited resources by people who might have had a basic understanding of how to make boats but had clearly never had to contend with the trails of traveling across the open sea before. More then one ship in the ram-shackled fleet that was coming ashore had sunken on the journey, taking many of the souls on board with them despite the efforts of some of the other ships to fish their fellow orcs from the icy ocean waters.

Despite the losses and the hardship through, the orcs themselves were in high spirits. They had done what many had believed to be impossible. The Dark One had long ago segregated his slave and worshiper races into specialized rolls in order to prevent any one race from being able to rebel effectively against him; While orcs could create fishing boats and make shift transports in order to gather food and ferry troops across minor bodies of water like rivers or moats respectively, actual sea faring naval craft and their production was kept in the hands of his branded human cultists. No one believed that an orc could make a ship that could survive three days out in open waters, let alone make an ocean crossing. With the impossible achieved, it was with great pride that the orcs celebrated their arrival in a new land.

The landing site was a beach that stretched into grassland towards the south east as far as the eye could see, next to a river that flowed from the west that had a forest that lay to the north. As the surviving ships arrived one after the other, good natured arguments started to arise over what to name the place. The first orc that had stepped foot on the new land made the argument that since he was the first one to step foot on the new land, he should have the right to name it, while his crew mates suggested that they should name it after their ship for being the first one to land. A few captains and other crews tried to put their own names forward, but they were half hearted attempts at best for the sake of ego; Everyone had seen who had landed first after all.

When Rukdug the Hunter finally landed and the matter was brought to him, he looked around and thought for a moment... before coming to a decision on another matter. While he agreed that the place needed a name worthy of the occasion, it would not be the location of their new home. While camps were set up for the time being, several teams were organized to construct river craft to scout further upriver to see how close to the mountains it would get them. Using parts of the now beached ships and taking advantage of the forest nearby for fresh resources, much better built boats were constructed and sent upriver.

After some time the scouts returned, bringing with them tales of a fork in the river that protected a stretch of land close enough to the mountains for mining, but with plenty of room to grow into a defensive position. It would take time to ferry orcs and supplies there to set up a proper settlement, but it was a perfect place to call home. More boats to travel the river would be required, but it would be a lot quicker and easier then traveling by land.

With the process of moving their people underway, Rukdug finally came to a decision about what to name their landing spot. The river itself would earn the name Hardship's Respite while the landing that would be their first step towards their new home... Survivor's Pride. Even as orcs boarded boats heading upriver, a name for the yet built settlement was already floating around: Riverforge. A place for their tribe to start anew.

Civilization III: A New World

The Mustaqilun Tribe

Represented Color: Purple
Race: Orc
Breed: Blackskin Orcs
Capital: Riverforge
Ruler: Warchief Rukdug the Hunter

Type of Government: Tribal Tyranny. Traditionally, the orcish society that the Mustaqilun Tribe broke away from favoured rule by strength; The stronger, cunning and more brutal you were, the higher in society you could potentially rise and expect to survive the promotion.
While the Mustaqilun Tribe could be considered somewhat liberal by the standards of other orcs, they do respect strong, competent leadership and the only alternative government that they have seen in action is monarchy which doesn’t appeal to them; While the leader who founds the kingdom is generally someone to respect by orcish standards, a few generations on and you tend to get poor leaders unworthy of the power they’re ‘born with’.

Religion:
The Mustaquilun Tribe doesn’t have a religion per say; The closest thing to a ‘god’ that the tribe had in the past was their former lord and master, a being of great power that ruled orcish kind through might and fear. While the Dark One had a cult dedicated to him that worshiped him as an almighty being, the Mustaquilun Tribe (and quite a large number of other orcs) viewed him more as the biggest, strongest of bosses rather than as a deity… and considering that they broke all ties with their former master when they took to the seas, their opinion of him is rather low.

They are superstitious through, performing small rituals and offerings in their day to day lives to ‘spirits’; A hunter might make a small offering before going out on a hunt for a good hunt, while a blacksmith might perform small rituals occasionally in order to keep the spirit of his forge in high spirits while wading off misfortune.

History:
The history of the Mustaquilun Tribe started fairly recently. Originally the orcs stationed at the oceanside port fortress of Nomar, the orcs of Nomar spent their days producing weapons and equipment for the seemingly endless armies of their distant master, the Dark One in his campaign against the other races and kingdoms of the land.

The Dark One was a cruel, unforgiving and demanding overlord, uncaring for the pain and suffering of minions and slaves alike as long as his orders were met on time. His requests kept the forges of Nomar burning at all hours of the day and night in order to try and keep up with demand.

It was hard to say exactly when the uprising among the orcs of Nomar began; they all hated the Dark One and the lives that they were being made to live, but their fear of him tended to keep any actual spirit of rebellion quiet… at least, until they no longer had anything to lose.

The forges were sabotaged by slaves from one of the distant nations their master had waged war with, breaking almost all of them down in such a way that it would take months to get production back up to the levels that it had been before, let alone start meeting the Dark One’s quotas again. The Dark One wasn’t known for his patience or his calm temper; in the past when a production site had fallen behind to the same degree as Nomar had just done, he had the fortress purged of its current workforce before repopulating it with a fresh workforce to get it operational again.

The orcs of Nomar were doomed… so they decided to take a gamble.

It began with the death of the former Warchief, Pash the Glutten. His failure to prevent such a devastating slave uprising due to neglecting his duties as Warchief of Nomar was deemed to be the source of the orcs impending doom and thus he was executed by his replacement, Rukdug the Hunter.

With the former Warchief slain and the promise of a painful death approaching, Rukdug came up with a plan to save himself and his fellow orcs... though it came with a price. In order for his plan to be successful, those under his command that zealously obeyed the will of the Dark One as the word of god had to be purged in order to prevent them from hindering their efforts. The night after Pash's head was mounted on a spike, Rukdug and those loyal to him (or at least to their own survival) slaughtered every last Dark One loyalist they could find, with only a handful fleeing into the night.

Led by Rukdug the Hunter, the orcs used what production abilities they still had access to in order to build ships. They took to the seas, abandoning their homeland completely in favour of escaping their master’s wrath and creating new lives for themselves elsewhere. Breaking all ties with their former master, the orcs of the fortress of Nomar decided to band together in order to form a new tribe; The Mustaquilun tribe.

Map Location

If this is alright.

Civilization III: A New World

The Mustaqilun Tribe

Represented Color: Purple
Race: Orc
Breed: Blackskin Orcs
Capital: Riverforge
Ruler: Warchief Rukdug the Hunter

Type of Government: Tribal Tyranny. Traditionally, the orcish society that the Mustaqilun Tribe broke away from favoured rule by strength; The stronger, cunning and more brutal you were, the higher in society you could potentially rise and expect to survive the promotion.
While the Mustaqilun Tribe could be considered somewhat liberal by the standards of other orcs, they do respect strong, competent leadership and the only alternative government that they have seen in action is monarchy which doesn’t appeal to them; While the leader who founds the kingdom is generally someone to respect by orcish standards, a few generations on and you tend to get poor leaders unworthy of the power they’re ‘born with’.

Religion:
The Mustaquilun Tribe doesn’t have a religion per say; The closest thing to a ‘god’ that the tribe had in the past was their former lord and master, a being of great power that ruled orcish kind through might and fear. While the Dark One had a cult dedicated to him that worshiped him as an almighty being, the Mustaquilun Tribe (and quite a large number of other orcs) viewed him more as the biggest, strongest of bosses rather than as a deity… and considering that they broke all ties with their former master when they took to the seas, their opinion of him is rather low.

They are superstitious through, performing small rituals and offerings in their day to day lives to ‘spirits’; A hunter might make a small offering before going out on a hunt for a good hunt, while a blacksmith might perform small rituals occasionally in order to keep the spirit of his forge in high spirits while wading off misfortune.

History:
The history of the Mustaquilun Tribe started fairly recently. Originally the orcs stationed at the oceanside port fortress of Nomar, the orcs of Nomar spent their days producing weapons and equipment for the seemingly endless armies of their distant master, the Dark One in his campaign against the other races and kingdoms of the land.

The Dark One was a cruel, unforgiving and demanding overlord, uncaring for the pain and suffering of minions and slaves alike as long as his orders were met on time. His requests kept the forges of Nomar burning at all hours of the day and night in order to try and keep up with demand.

It was hard to say exactly when the uprising among the orcs of Nomar began; they all hated the Dark One and the lives that they were being made to live, but their fear of him tended to keep any actual spirit of rebellion quiet… at least, until they no longer had anything to lose.

The forges were sabotaged by slaves from one of the distant nations their master had waged war with, breaking almost all of them down in such a way that it would take months to get production back up to the levels that it had been before, let alone start meeting the Dark One’s quotas again. The Dark One wasn’t known for his patience or his calm temper; in the past when a production site had fallen behind to the same degree as Nomar had just done, he had the fortress purged of its current workforce before repopulating it with a fresh workforce to get it operational again.

The orcs of Nomar were doomed… so they decided to take a gamble.

It began with the death of the former Warchief, Pash the Glutten. His failure to prevent such a devastating slave uprising due to neglecting his duties as Warchief of Nomar was deemed to be the source of the orcs impending doom and thus he was executed by his replacement, Rukdug the Hunter.

With the former Warchief slain and the promise of a painful death approaching, Rukdug came up with a plan to save himself and his fellow orcs... though it came with a price. In order for his plan to be successful, those under his command that zealously obeyed the will of the Dark One as the word of god had to be purged in order to prevent them from hindering their efforts. The night after Pash's head was mounted on a spike, Rukdug and those loyal to him (or at least to their own survival) slaughtered every last Dark One loyalist they could find, with only a handful fleeing into the night.

Led by Rukdug the Hunter, the orcs used what production abilities they still had access to in order to build ships. They took to the seas, abandoning their homeland completely in favour of escaping their master’s wrath and creating new lives for themselves elsewhere. Breaking all ties with their former master, the orcs of the fortress of Nomar decided to band together in order to form a new tribe; The Mustaquilun tribe.

Map Location

If this is alright.

Echoes of Lordaeron (warcraft RP)

Considering that this is an AU universe, you can have the Exodar come down a bit earlier in a different location.

Echoes of Lordaeron (warcraft RP)

You might want to read about the Silverpine Crusade. Get an idea about what to expect.

Echoes of Lordaeron (warcraft RP)

I've got sane worgen, but I doubt we'll have warlocks.

Echoes of Lordaeron (warcraft RP)

The Silverpine Crusade

Racial Leader

Micholi the Blessed

History
<sup>In the days prior to the fall of Lorderan, Micholi the Blessed was the unrecognized bastard of a noble who pulled some strings to get his offspring taken on by the Silver Hand in order to avoid scandal. After the Scourge invasion of Lorderan began proper with the betrayal of the Prince, Micholi joined with the surviving members of the Order of the Silver Hand to combat the undead hordes and try to retake their homeland (an organization that would rename itself the Scarlet Crusade in time).

Micholi was trusted with an armed task force to travel to Silverpine Forest and attempt to secure safe passage through the forest for living civilians who were trying to escape from the undead hordes of Lorderan (and to work as a supply line for supplies and aid coming from the south). This proved to be more challenging then expected as the undead were not the only monsters roaming the woods and preying on those trying to escape; Monstrous wolfmen soon started to be uncovered prowling the woods, attacking those trying to escape and turning them into new wolfmen if they managed to survive the encounter.

Finding this new threat to be just as dangerous as the Scourge, Micholi and his forces engaged the worgen as readily as the undead, fighting both to try and keep a safe path open for those who couldn't fight to flee. As time wore on, Micholi and his followers stopped getting reinforced from the rest of the Crusade in Lorderan and it forced Micholi to be less zealous and more pragmatic in the name of the greater good; Luring his two enemies to fight each other rather then risking his now limited forces.

It was after one of this pitched battles between the Worgen and the Scourge that some of Micholi's scouts noticed something; The Worgen who were slain in battle were staying dead. For whatever reason, the Scourge weren't willing or able to raise them into undeath... and this gave Micholi ideas.

Securing some of the blood of the worgen, Micholi began putting it through holy rituals performed by himself and other priests/paladins following him to try and purify it by infusing it with the light... and once it was done to an acceptable level, he risked his sanity and immortal soul to ingest the end result to see if this monstrous blight on the forest could be used for the greater good of all.

The end result was that Micholi transformed into a worgen... but unlike the feral beasts that they had been contending with, he had managed to retain his human intelligence; Granted it was clear that he was somewhat more wrathful then before, but his faith in the light and self control helped him to keep his temper.

After waiting several days to see if there were any unknown side effects, Micholi declared the experiment a success and offered it to his followers... but only those who he judged had proven themselves zealous and self controlling enough to control themselves and retain their sanity after the transformation.</sup>

Government Type
^{The Siverpine Crusade is a military organization, with its leadership being made up of officers who have proven themselves fit and able to lead their men into battle. In the event of Micholi's death, the next officer of highest rank will take over.}

Capital City
^{The Silverpine Sepulcher, Silverpine Forest}

Primary Race
^{Largely human, but has started to allow those who are likely to survive the light blessed worgen ritual with their sanity intact to become worgen (and is open to other Alliance races that wish to join up).}

Recent History
<sup>Shortly after the Silver Hand regrouped to wage war against the undead, Micholi and a carefully selected vanguard were organized to enter the Silverpine Forest in order to try and secure a safe path in and out of Lorderan. The original plan was to make their way to the keep of Baron Silverlaine in the south of the forest in order to secure a safe place to rest and resupply (for both their task force and refugees fleeing south), but the discovery of the Worgen infestation that had overran the area had forced a change in plans.

Retreating back north, they task forced claimed the Siverpine Sepulcher to serve as a base of operations. The crypt was located in a central, easily fortified location that had some now farmland and mines nearby that could be used if secured; The choice of location also ensured that the undead and their necromancer masters wouldn't be able to get access to the graves to defile them, with some members in their off time tending to the graves and offering blesses to the departed to help keep up moral.

Shortly after moving into the Sepulcher to set up camp, the Silverpine Crusade launched an assault on Olsen's Farthing to the south of their position to drive out the undead there, intending to convert the abandoned farm into a local food source to prepare themselves for the war ahead.

Despite the hardships that they encountered, the Silverpine Crusade was somewhat successful in their original mission; They escorted several groups of refugees fleeing from Lorderan through the forest and into Hillsbrad. However, for reasons that aren't known to them messages from their parent organization in Lorderan have fallen silent and no new reinforcements have arrived from there in some time. They haven't had the manpower to spare to actually send someone to go and find out what the current situation of the main Crusade actually is.</sup>

Controlled Territory
^{The Silverpine Sepulcher and Olsen's Farthing.}

Allies
^{START WITH 0}

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