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 ooc- Oh boy, here we go. This originally started out as something else entirly. An outlet to post the stories of a character I really enjoyed portraying, even if most no one else did. (Let's face the facts, here.) Doesn't seem to be the case, now the ooc post are growing in number. Holy hell, this might become an actual journal. How alarming in a 'post yer thoughts.com' kinda way. Very mainstream. Oh well. 

I guess it won't alter the validity of anything I wish to post, and dammit, I's feels likes postings...

I watched a documentary just a few moments ago about the nature of Jesus, particuairly he not being who many say he was, accompanied by the 'peculiar absence of God' scenario. The narrator struck me as a potentially angry, arrogant little man, much like the people he attempted to decry, and seemed more interested in proving people wrong that having a debate. I never found it anything but easy to be sarcastic or patronizing of religion, so forgive me for not offering this angry little man points for creativity. In fact, it's about as stale as someone telling a fat person they're "a big fat fatty fat guy" and expecting it to come as a shock them, as if the indivual being insulted had no idea of said predicament and this wasn't the thousand or so time he's heard it. 

I can't help but feel rather bad for aethiests, just as I might those who tend to be unflichingly fundamentalist. One on side, you have a black castle, the other side a white. They like to shout out their view from these castle ramparts, which are forged from a mortar and stone of supporters who's rock-hard conviction provide incredible support and defensive capabilities in the face of anything that isn't more of their own brand of support.  These castle are of such similar make, design and in the same locale, so far beyond us peasents who fail to grasp their infalability, we can't help but look up and be awed by their impressive display. However, their shouts are, in fact, the anthesis of one another. 

The white castle believes whole-heartedly in some cause that involves an idealogy steeped in traditions, which are often taught to young, impressionable minds to instill a morality that many feel they may lack otherwise. 

The black castle does not believe in this idealogy, often relying more on observance of the area around them. Due to many knowing only tradition when we first begin listening, as thats what many we look to begin telling, many of the black castle knights are former white castle knights holding one fuck of a grudge.

These two castles, much like everyone else, can never full know what the hell is going on, no one can, which seems like the onli ineffiable truth: perception will universially vary. No matter how much alike things may be, no one will necessarily think exactly the same way as another, as the experiences we percieve are just as universially varied and are no doubt catalysts to our own reasoning and sense of being.

 Two castles, so alike in dignity, in fare paranoia where our story lay...

These castles both seem so interested in proving they are right, or that the other is wrong, they seem to mirror one another through a glass darkly, and thus is our image rather blurry.  

The moral of our little story? It really doesn't matter what castle you choose to wall yer stubborn ass up in, if your not willing to go outside the walls and boundries and attempt to transcend the notion that we may never understand the grander-fuck-scheme of things, your just going to wind up following some banner around and marching off to your invisible war with no real attainable objective when you could be doing the small, seemingly unimportant things that make like worth fucking living since the big things tend to run the gamut of being horribly depressing. 

If your too busy simply shouting to hear what may be said to you outside your castle, your just part of the mortar, a static thing that eventually is mentally assimilated into the mass of other stones, forming the central core of whatever conviction you may have: rigid, unyeilding...ultimatly an inanimate object as worthy of consideration as...well...a brick. 

We may never know what's going on. That doesn't bother me. What really tends to make me wonder isn't why were here, but why I'm stuck here with people saying they know why I'm here, whether it be the stork brought me, God meld me out of clay, or the procreation of the species. Frankly, I don't give a flying fuck all, I could be the dream of some bored ass night watch man from bizzaro world, and if that's what I choose to believe, prove me wrong, asshole, and see if I, in fact, give a shit. 

Maybe I'll start catajorizing my own views in accordance to my affinity for alcoholic beverages as it corresponds nicely to my current predicament. Or maybe, I'll continue to try to enjoy talking about the possibility of almost anything, picking and choosing that which I think would benefit me and those around me, such as doctrines of science, but portions of the 10 commandments, the 4 noble truths and 8 fold path, the beautiful and inspiring poerty of the Quran, the books of the bible as well as  the new research on stem cells, and the new and old testament, as I come across them. Why? Cause I can. And why shouldn't I? Also, think I might through a bit of Dyonisus in there for kicks to spice up the old love life. 

Blasphemy, heretic, asshole, ya ya, heard it before, but your not going to agree with me unless I agree whole-heartedly with you, so, again, ask me if I give a shit. (I don't, ha ha)

I guess I'm just happy with being able to think about all this stuff in a manner which allows me to be pretty much open to anything, even if I can have a rather abrasive sense of humor about it. (Part of my insufferable charm, I assure you.)

So I guess that's it. 

In the beginning, there was Labatt blue, and then, God created  fake id, and there was guiness. 

God saw that guiness was good and, in turn, created whiskey. Whiskey begot scotch, and scotch begot more beer, woo hoo!

And thus we prayed at the porcelin shrine and we gave ourselves over to the holy wine, (but not much, wine just ain't my thing, I much prefer sanctified shots of holy hard booze) and other spiritual and spirituous beverages on the sabbath, as well as saturday, friday, weekends in general. (and sometimes, right after work, fuck me, I'm pious)

And, as it's written here, we give ourselves over to the trinity:

In the name of the Whiskey, the Stout, and the various other holy spirits. 

Beer bless you. 



ooc -

Hmmm, in an interesting turn the BBC had a blurb about the politics involved in selected an american president. I wrote something, though I not entirly sure how it might be viewed. I think I'll save it for posterity....


   "The pride many Americans feel seems directly proportionate to their ignorance in how the finer points of the election system actually works. Many hold these notions of democracy dearly but cannot seem to fully define them.

    Only loosely able to associate with politics on a base level, most people instead rely on their politicans to check under the proverbial bed for frightening issues and letting those elected handle them. It's difficult to keep an eye on politics considering the hard-fought, dare I say decadent lifestyles of many who don't fully realize the freedoms gained, even while working 60 plus hours a week. Admist the bills and credit cards, and sitcoms and commercialism, we let politicians handle the grander things, and get alarmed when they turn sour.

    I think many feel a type of guilt derived from their voting, as being responsible for what occurs, both at home and abroad, but I don't believe such notions last. We soon lapse back into political-apathy after it ceases to be attention-diverting, shiny and new. When the majority of the american people seem to vote more along the lines of party affiliation when selecting a canidate and the parties and even the individial canidates themselves fight with such vitriol that it doesn't even seem like they're part of the same country, it's hard to imagine anything getting done when they band together on Capitol Hill.

    I would like to think we're beyond the need for such things as the electorial college, which seems more an archaic throwback to illiteracy when most Amercians were uneducated and ill-informed. But some of the people cannot seem able to look beyond superficial qualities and tend to select more out of passion or whim, and when most of the country cannot or will not associate with perspectives they feel are divergent from their own, the finer points tend to be missed.

    The above notion of the president exemplifying a paragon of patriotic virtue is interesting, and I think very much reflects the current administration. When one is viewed thusly, can he even fathom the notion of being wrong? Right and wrong are often merely perspective, but the US seems more interested in shouting it's own righteous perspective while shouting down the world majority which is divergent from their vision. I feel this is a large example of arrogance brought on by this notion of infallability.

     Some might say I were unpatriotic to write such things. But love for one's country should not be unconditional, as that seems to absolve us of guilt. I am currently disappointed in many ways with how my county has conducted itself within the last 8 years, but it's the people, not the country, that make the actions that reflect such things. It will be interesting to see how things develope, but like most Amercians, I myself will probably loose sight of things when my workload becomes to great and politics becomes less convinent for my scheduling. That very ignorance is a freedom that is often overlooked, as we blissfully continue on with our fast-food lives. I wish it were exercised less. "  

I haven't decided if this post will make me a pessimist or an anarchist. Considering the current administration, 'heretic' might be a good word as well. 'Anarchist' can become 'anti-christ' so easily. Maybe I'll just go all-american and chose the most trendy-sounding one and hope I fit in better.  Man, I'm a jerk, but dammit, I'm a glorious jerk. 

On defense

A chapter as written in response to a worthy Tauren adversary, dedicated to Kaphik. May we meet on the feild of battle as honored enemies.

An such our treaty begins

On strengths...
Each side certainly has it's list of strengths and weaknesses what with to move across the chessboard. But it takes an ambitous hand indeed to have a grasp so far-reaching and it's not necessary we have to use a fist for such matters. We need merely have a finger on every alliance resource. I am not so vain to be a commaner of all forces, nor a creature who fails to recognize the talents of others. The night-elves will organzive the brunt of ranger-reconissance, the gnomes leading their own war through the development with new technologies which should appeal nicely to our future goblin allies when augmented by doing what humans do best: business, second only to goblins. Money talks and they will certainly play the feild. But in the end, who truly benefits via the accusition of wealth?  The horde-lands certainly possess some raw natural resources the venture company has only just begun to tap...We just need to get to them first and get a few choice deals made.  And if you think dwarven fortifications are stalwart now...well, lads, ye ain't seem nothing yet.  We haven't even had to close the gates of Ironforge and what with the deepran tram connecting the major cities being rather impregnable from convential war-fare as opposed to your exposed zepplins,  well, I'd say your in a bit of a spot....The large river from lakeshire dividing all main heartland territories can be as much as hindrance as a blessing. The creative uses may be limited only by our resourcfulness.

On weaknesses:  Only a fool fails to recognize their limitations. Holding off the more power-hungry who would seek to capitolize on any new events would be a primary if hidden objective. Signs of dissidents all around us, from the splitting of the defias free-mason to the Red Ridge watch, the People's militia and the Night Watch being sure signs of trouble. However, these forces, while disillusioned may be united by a common threat. If news of the hordes depredations in stranglethorn, which is an inevitable given it is a very direct and threatening route to the heart of the motherland, may stir these forces to unite, a common threat is a very unifying entity. The Night elves and now Dreani possess the most perilous areas, where reinforcements are hard pressed to be dispatchted with great ease, however the fortifications of both areas far surpasses that of most great bastion cities, the Draeni's use of technology being of great boon, and he Kaldorei's magic defenses, as well as the natural buffer their great tree provides serverly limits enemy advancement torwords the main lands.

On Mass Movement ...
When the zepplins strangely seem to go missing carrying platoons of support troops, as among their only greatly expedient means of transportation, it would be unfortunate indeed. However, I will not allow fine warriors to go so gently into this good night.  They will arrive at their destination safely with no cheap tactics employed, but once there...my generosity ends.  The afore-mentioned tram allows safe moment of troops, supplies and evacuation that horde do not possess. This is a great boon that should not be over-looked...however, it should also be noted the security breech can be unpredicated...

On diplomacy
As much as it pains me to preserve the misbegotten and corrpupt nobility of Stormwind and it's self-serving decadence I can no more allow the radicals of the horde to run amok in the streets of the city as I could allow the same mad-men  of the alliance to set Ogrimmar and Mulgore ablaze. Hence, diplomacy is key in all things, in all matters. Staying the hands of genocidal maniacs holding both torches and power will most probably be the greatest battle.  However, the enemy of my enemy...

The Night elves connection to the land cannot be denied, nor can that of the honorable Tauren, however...we must question those who allow the forsaken to lie with them...how far off the cycle might we be willing to tread? Perhaps there are more than a few dissodents among the Plain-roamers that feel such bed-fellows who sleep in a crypt may be too much to bear...the Emerald circle may be inclined to agree. The Forsaken, as pitiable their plight is, seemed to, in general, be of warped and often depraived mindset, making them little better than undead capabe of a dark human cunning, unchecked by lack of morality.

However, The Forsaken are in a rather precarious locale. Wedged bewteen the Kirin Tor who may be most interested in ensuring the safety of their remaining stronghold from the forsaken depredations,  the insatiable Scarlet crusade and wholly cut-off from the brunt of horde forces with only 2 single modes of travel available to them: the afore mentioned zepplins and their large bats. A good plan is only as valauble as it is novel. Your  predictablec aerial transportation should prove wonderful for collabrating our new seige technology. And should the Scarlet Crusade somehow recieve word of a seige prior to our own arrival via the emissaries seen within our own streets and the Scourge even manage to batter the defenses, it would seem as if the Mortuary would fall like, well, la corpse dropped from a loft.  Even if survivers remain, by placing  a scant crew to make scary sounds and let them know the canons remain loaded and at the door of the rotten-city and continued word to the monastary-dwellers, in addition to a few reinforcements we may be able to garner from the wild-hammer clan seeing as we all don't enjoy the presence of the rather belligence trolls, and I think we might have flushed one house of cards.

Booty Bay would prove to be quite a challenge, a veritable portal to the barrens into a safe harbor the horde shouldn't dare to attack less they alienate the goblins, the cape could be quite the prize.  The bloodsails, for all their bravado are marooned on the banks with no great fortifications on land. Providing Booty bay with aid while bolstering our presence within the area could prove more than lucrative. Further, The Venture  company can again play a great role provided we can secure temporary relations with them in the barrens.

Hopefully, the thorium brotherhood may be like-wise persuaded and should we convince the majority of the denizens the horde would be hard-pressed to take Azeroth, of which Lorderon could do as a fine example, and it should be noted we have bastions of defense in this land, where as the horde is hard-pressed to truly conrol any sufficient territory.  Should we dictate the sign of the times and write history quick enough, people may follow the print before the ink dries and such will the alliance defend these lands Azeroth, Khoz modan and take back our fallen Lordearon.

All the while we bring the great fight to Kalimdor, however, such is the subject of our second Treaty:

On Offense

This old war dog does like to bark.... 

On Warfare...

Excerpt from the Stoneshout reports, prior to the opening of the dark portal

On Our War:
The war supplies effort is drawing to close, and both sides have based it around not a peace treaty, but simply a ceasefire for a common goal.

This is not uncommon, as neither sect has the man power needed to wholly invade and occupy the other. Note the objective: occupy. It would hardly serve to raze such cities to the ground if the enemies would only regroup else where and continue the fight and each side would continuously exhaust themselves.

The past, if it is indeed doomed to repition, has shown thusly. Were one to invade, hold and assimilate the other, which neither seems to possess the capacity to do so at this point in time, it might be the beginning of the end for one sect, but such a feat seems strategically improbable considering both sects have done their utmost to protect their vested intrests.

At best, those of a more belligerent nature can simply pick at kinks in armor, taking a bellows to what may be a dying spark of what once was true warfare.

Some believe their may be glory in such epic battles. I cannot concur. These minuit battles are nothing but the wanning screech of dying hawks, heralds of a war long since past into history but never obscurity. They know not why they fight, but they would have nothing to do with themselves otherwise, save to watch their swords and bodies rust. Meanwhile the rift bewteen heroes and purpose widens even as the rift bewteen purpose and politics has bridged, composed of our soldier's corpes and erected in needless bloodshed.

Our history has yet to honor any great peace-activitsts in a meaningful way. Jaina Proudmore remains living in what some might consider a relative exile, cut off from alliance support, while the statue of her Father, who could have been considered nothing short of despot at the end of his carreer, remains plated in gold in Stormwind keep. Heroes mean morale, morale means fight-ready armies, fight-ready armies means probably annexation of territories, and these heros will lead the politicians to a wonderful new era of taxes...I mean these heroes will lead our armies to a wonderful new era of peace at the cost of one-sides right to live, after all, war is designed to cause peace...it's just one side wants all the peaces to themselves without fear of retaliation of any great note.
Considering trade threats from the defias, to the blood sails, to the venture co, to name a few, I highly doubt, even if accords could be made at free trade, there would be much prospering to be had.

And so we mock fight.

Even the battelgrounds are nothing more the border skirmishes with handfuls of troops amounting to nothing more than fringe-combat that result in no lasting changes, either the addition or loss of permenant territory.

Some whisper of peace, but others scream for war and neither side is being sated. While both may accept there are signifigantly larger threats to be concerned of. Horde Pride or Alliance Honor will not matter should we all be piles of ashes, and here in lies the foreseeable dilemma:

During this truce...we naturally remain in a precipitous peace. However, we fight together, if not hand in hand...when the smoke over the burning crusade finally settles one side will surely be in a better state than the other....

This is the event Generals and strategists alike must prepare for, even as politicians ready their plaques and medals. The marble crafters prepare to immortalize our heros in stone even as many more in the shadows would carve the headstones of they and they're commrades. While any force continues to work against peace, war is the only alternative and one needn't be an expert on the subject to predict the outcome of what happens when people with weapons confront people without them.
It's only a matter of time before one side feels they have that advantage and acts upon it, with or without full support and that will be bloody but it also might be lasting. Peace may be achieved through war, but at what cost?



(Simple ooc, cause I likes to write. And yes, I did have an an extreamly boring day job at the time of this writing. Go fig.) 


  General Olmandis Stoneshout is a name that should have died along with his past decades ago, left in the wake of some epic battle. An accomplished strategist and charismatic ambassador, Stoneshout was often at odds with the various dwarven council members whom he accused of frivously throwing away his kin's lives on needless and pitiless campaigns in which coffers and coffins were both lined needlessly.

 As a result, Stoneshout, in his youth, who rose through the ranks of such prestigous organizations as the Ram Riders of Thelsemar, and as Theif-Catcher of Ironforge, was often shunted from area to area as an 'ambassador' effectivly halting his attempts to meddle with internal Ironforge affairs not to the Senator's liking.

   His wiliness and shrewd manner led him to excell in his position, earning him great titles and merit within the ranks of the WildHammer hills, where he took his second wife, and even within the hallowed halls of the Kaldorei, where his service as a templar and strategist were of asset.

 His honors did not go unnoticed with Ironforge, and nor did his continued attempts of unspoken critiques on war policy, his war journals carried by many self-described freedom fighters, vigilantes and war dessidents. At twilight of his career, after serving in many great skirmishes of his time, Stoneshout attempted to publish his disseration, 'The Stoneshout reports', a critical analysis of the state of war within the alliance. It was quickly panned and deemed neigh-treasonous by key officals of Ironforge. His allegience never called directly into question, and with great support by his allies abroad, Stoneshout was unable to be swept discretly aside. However, it was rumored particular officals had begun entertaining designs on dispatching the former General permantly.

 At the time when the Horde-alliance truce was truly beginning to falter, the aging Olmandis had been called from his current position within the Wildhammer hills, to lead a band of misfits and rebellious soldiers to the fore front of the inevitable conflaggarations. Thus Hordebreaker was born. Olmandis recognized their gaudy blue and red tabbards for what they were: targets, and eventually, funeral shrouds. The best and most efficient way to deal with troublsome soldiers was to have them die namelessly, well away from where they could do any harm.

 Olmandis led the team as best he could, the scant few soldiers and misfits became a small, but powerful band, often leading assualts into the most hellish of territories and disputes. Utilizing their talents, the Old man had essentially created a specialized forces unit, and had tapped unknown potential. Himself having been away the front line in over a century, 'the Lost General'  had to forge his skills anew, re-learning his craft along with his unit. Their final stand came when unsual orders were issued, sending them off to the fallen city of Andorhal. The increased Scourge activity was indeed of paramount intrest,  and though the intel gleamed on how the forces were currently drilling served the Argent Dawn well, the Hordebreaker suffered immense losses. Olmandis himself had nearly succumbed, rushing the ranks of undead with the now-deceased Father Mordakai as support while the ill-prepaired and combat-weary ranks of the Hordebreaker sought to retreat. The Mouth of Kel-Thas, however, seemed all-too-prepaired for such an eventuality. When the smoke lifted the Hordebreaker was all but crushed, Olmandis managing to find respite outside the ruins of what had become known as Scholomance.

 Though no proof could ever be brought to bare, this was no doubt an act of treachery in the old mans' mind, and he thought to prepare accordingly. Disappearing from  the political scene, Olmandis worked an array of jobs when he finally returned from The Hinterlands once more, crawling out from his self-imposed exile and the bottom of a seemingly endless cask of stout, his axes and skill equally rusty. Learning what he could of the current politics and tapping his various resources of allies through dignitiaries, the Old man had escaped from the watchful eye of the various despotic officals of IronForge.

 His influence paid off, resulting in his position of city watch of Stormwind, affording him protection from future political depredations. His other tasks assigned through less conspicous means were as follows, a short stint as SI X's Black Warden at the behest of SI 7's own director of operations, A second rank officer in the self-made noble guild the Peacemakers, and a position as templar in the Iron Seraphim knightly order, where he was reunited with the only serviving member of the Hordebreak, his First Sergent Casmus Solomos. Upon the latest's disbanding, word of Olmandis' reappearence had reached the ears of concerned politicians.

 However, before they could arrange for another "campaign" the old dwarf had formed his own secret, special ops troop, under the cover of a  roving national guard, known as STORM Front commissoned. Composed of an array of talents, STORM front specialized in a multitude of areas, and had a small, but diversified roster. When the portal had been breached, and the latest, most powerful threat had yet appeared, Olmandis' forces were ready. Establishing themselves as a small unit of Honor Hold defenders, the STORM Front could operate both in Azeroth and beyond the dark portal, stationing units in both worlds, and operating with great discreation. Olmandis saw the political scenario of the policians left to their own devices without the usual heros of Azeroth on the same plane as a great threat, for which ever side, horde or alliance, proved the most stable after the ashes from the Burning Crusade settled, could possibly and irrecovably wipe the other off the map.

 The old guard can still be seen about Stormwind, serving in the company of the Emerald Mosiac as a "mere" explorer and Professor of warfare History, serving the Alliance on his own terms, as  a simple Watch Investigator,  and ever-supported by his unit.


Stormwind National Guard
Special Ops Unit

Stormfront is a specialized military unit with no official guild standing, allowing it's members to serve at their own discretion, outside the perview of a standard mility unit. Their special tactics squadron specializes in espionage, investigation, guerilla combat. The current roster contains the following individuals:

Olmandis Stoneshout- Commander, Lead Investiagtor, Feild Commander, Cheif Strategist

Casmus Solomos- First Sergent- Position- Heavy Infantry Feild Commander

Tolasinn Felgarris- First Magister- Position- Cheif War-mage and Chronicler-scribe

Casmerus Stoneshout- First Scout- Position- Chief of espionage, Sniper First class, artillary specialist

Mulciber of the Draenei- First scout-Position- Gunnery Sergent, Sniper First Class, artillary specialist

Lady Cassandria Solomos-First Templar- Position- Cleric and Divine First Aid

Sir Aquinnis of Northshire- Second Templar- Position- Cleric and Emmisary to Stormwind Cathedral, Chaplain
















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