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A year off
There was a year between the defeat of Arthas and the Shattering... What has everyone been doing?
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A year gone. It was amazing how time had passed, truly, and Althaniel couldn't help but smile. Progress. True, undeniable progress. Even with the change in the Horde's leadership, he had chosen to stay true to his people. Silvermoon first, above all else. And part of his duty, a part he treasured, was to act as a liason with the growing Argent Crusade forces in the south, in what was known as the Plaguelands.

Spending more time there than in Silvermoon, though he missed his beloved city, Althaniel watched as things began to change. What once was decimated, plagued land began to bloom again, and Scarlet Crusade bastions such as Hearthglen were retaken in the name of the Argent Crusade and Highlord Fordring. He was there, as the banners were hoisted high above Hearthglen's central keep, and watched as the land finally began to awaken as if from a years-long, nightmarish slumber.

And then the world broke. In an instant, life had changed forever, and Althaniel knew that his duty had changed. Donning the colors of the Blood Knights once more, he rode back to Silvermoon. Even if he died trying, he would see his land, his people, saved from yet another threat to their very existence.
Melikar - For months after Arthas' defeat, the troll took a much needed vacation. He spent most of that time at the taverns of Orgrimmar or on the hills of Thunder Bluff living it up. The world finally seemed to be rebuilding and after much worry from all his time spent in the North, he finally felt he could begin to relax. After some time, it became apparent that his life now had died down into something less productive. He began to make himself useful by fighting off Alliance whenever their advancements into Horde territory became too great. But between skirmishes here and there, he lived a rather peaceful life. Still finding no home, he preferred to live in the guild hall. When the Shattering came, it happened so abruptly it was as if he couldn't even adjust soon enough. Now he helps the Horde and his tribe pick up the pieces after Deathwing's return. Hearing of Garrosh's rash leadership, the troll has decided to continue fighting Alliance, but his allegiance to the Horde has taken a step back into the shadows.

Kardwel - Upon returning home from Northrend, Kardwel returned to Silvermoon and bought a home. He lived out most of his last year there, keeping very little communication with the tribe. He appears at the guild hall in between the months. Other than that, he is seen or heard from hardly at all.

Sentei - Also returning to Silvermoon, Sentei has lived it up at nearly every major party or function in town. He would come back to the guild hall on occasion as well, but he too appeared sporadically. When the Shattering happened, he and Kardwel both returned to aid where they were needed.
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Mula remained absent, for the year. She'd actually been displaced in time for 15 years. During that time she gave birth to her child, Lucerra, who she has trained in the warrior ways. The guardian who was supposed to send her back to the day after she left accidentally sent her to a year after her departure. She arrived in the world unaware that things had changed drastically. Now, she is determined to help where she can and to find out everything she can about the new warchief. She feels that she is honorbound to serve Garrosh, out of respect to Thrall and Cairne's memory. Lucerra has begun to start training. Mula thinks she will become a warrior such as herself, and is not aware that Lucerra is actually a Sunwalker.

Rincewindy has recovered from the loss of his voice, and has even his burned off hair has begun to grow back (in patches). He has spent the year making an effort to restore the guild's library by either purchasing or copying books and scrolls that were damaged beyond repair. He also has been aiding in the war efforts against Gilneas. On a trip to Orgrimmar to copy several books and scrolls, he found himself stopped in his tracks by several burly orcs. They accused him of spying and locked him in the dungeon. He found himself surrounded my many of his kind (forsaken) and even some of the other races. He was released after a month and banned from entering the city without special written permission. He returned to Undercity and doubled his efforts to help Sylvannas. He has become quite the brooding guy as he doesn't see there is any hope for the world.
Aracna would have spent the last year mostly doing domestic things (taking care of her family), continuing to do her chores for various people and trying to have another child. She actually lives a high stress life making the latter a little more difficult. Firvan would probably have spent most of that time trying to get her to take a vacation.

Dannion would have recovered from his shock and returned to his interests in becoming a warlock. Otherwise growing healthy...if not a little odd.

Anderron ("Andy", Aracna's older brother) would have finished his tour of duty in Tranquillien and started being tutored in the art of being a warrior by the Forsaken.
Skrap has spent the last year enjoying her new respect in the Steamwheedle cartel, getting promoted to 'security analyst' and serving as a liason on Horde/Steamwheedle deals. Or she's tried to. The job has involved more boredom while babysitting merchants then she ever thought, with only the occasional sidejob getting to involve fun sneaking or use of explosives. She was on one of these merchant escorting jobs in Kezan when Deathwing arose, and has not been seen since the Island's destruction.

Cirsie was unsure what to do in the world with the Lich King gone and the Legion pushed back. She attempted to return to a normal life in Silvermoon as a jeweler, as her family had before, but the life constant pull of the nether in her mind made it into an empty lie. Seeking solace, she returned to Shattrath and has spent the time since living a monastic life among the Aldor, providing aid to the needy and learning to keep back the call of the void through meditation and prayer. She only returned to Azeroth briefly before the Shatteing, and was in the Outlands when in happened.
After the Litch King's death Zaevian was at a loss as of what to do. He had focused so much of his being into killing Arthas that when it was done he didn't know what he was living for and for most of the year could be found in any of the various bars around azeroth drinking enough to kill an ogre. In that time when he did appear in the guild hall he either looked extreamly depressed or drunk and often didn't talk to many as he once did. His sister Velandra "Tutelary" Lightblade eventually pulled him out of this downward spiral and showed him that his new reason for living was the family they had found in Ironsong. No longer considering himself a Ebon Knight before a member of Ironsong he put away his old tabard and was only seen wearing the Red Hammer of Ironsong and dedicated himself to defending the tribe against any that would harm them. It was about a month after this revelation that the guild hall was attacked.

Tutelary spent her year off going back into the service of the horde military and fighting skirmishes with the alliance. There was very few times that she was seen in the guild hall at this point.

Bloodbound growing tired of politics in Silvermoon decided to leave the city and spent the year wandering azeroth and assocciating with the other races of the horde.
Purpose. Such a simple thing...something that so many took for granted.

In the wake of the Lich King's fall, the Death Knight Rheven Shadowblade, a Knight of the Ebon Blade, returned to Acherus. Yet it soon became clear that, with their purpose for existing having been seen to completion, the Ebon Blade had retreated to its sanctuary above the Plaguelands. And for what? Listless, and growing angry...with himself, with the world, he could not say...Rheven left, forsaking his place among his fellow Knights.

Others felt the same, it seemed, and Rheven found himself joining with the Forsaken in the wake of Koltira Deathweaver's own change of loyalties. What better place for the dead? The Forsaken at least had a purpose, rather than sitting around on their hands within a floating relic of a fallen tyrant. Here...Rheven could forge his own purpose, and begin a new life...
Tursiops fought with his own mind and body, his form shifting getting painful and erratic, his mood getting more and more primal, angry, and confused. His dreams reforged his mind into one that was less the peaceful unless angered Tauren into a primal mind that was on edge and feral, unless calmed. In the end, it leads to the other story I put up, when the shattering occurred, he saw Deathwing and the dreaming finally forced him into a comfortable new form as a Troll. Why it chose this, is for future stories to discover.

Mirounga, counter to what you might expect, actually became calmer and more adult in the year after Arthas. While the spirits around him went crazy with the upcoming catastrophy, Mirounga spent his time wandering the land, calming these wayward elementals, ghosts, and others in the ethereal realms, coming to terms with being a shaman.

Architeuthis hasn't got enough ability to create new memories to really have done much of note.
Boyo, let me tell you it's been a busy time. All of my breedin' stock was company property apparently. Fine print I tell ya. If the deal looks too shiny, it's probably been polished with lies. No good stinkin' lawyers. Gnomes take them all!

Wait, where was I? Oh, right! My stock. Well I was a good loyal company goblin and all, but us Sharkpunchers know that you always gotta have a backup. So I set about rebuilding my stock, kept them in a bit of warehouse space I set aside with some tricky paperwork. Always with a head for numbers my mum said. Company has the space full of industrial waste, nobody never goes there and nobody's the wiser. So I started a new round of breed and break.

See, you nancy naturalists with your loving and caring pets wouldn't know this, but there's another sure fire way to tame a beast for financial gain. Break em young and often. You get a generation or two in and they don't know nothin' but loyalty. Not for a loving word or a treat, but cause it's what their pappy knew, their grandpappy knew, and it's all they'll ever know. Don't you be fooled, in the great traditional days of Altelugner Sharkpuncher this was a long tedious chore. And while I'm an upstanding goblin of tradition and merit, balls to that noise. So I cheated. You got a problem?

Mix the right bits of alchemist potions, bunch of needle nosed thieves that lot. Pick a few posies and mix them together to charge those prices? Guild business my shiny green arse. Wait, I'm getting off it again. Right. Mix the right bits and you can push a new born to matin' maturity in under a month. It's got its side effects for sure, reduced lifespan, blindness, and they make a mess of their pens something fierce. But after a few quick generations you can get your finished product and raise it proper like.

I bred the usual bunch that spatter the profession. Wolves for trackin, a particularly aggressive breed of raptor for faster prey, and of course the requisite cat for night time hunting. Even bred one o' them spikey ravagers, which let me tell you was a handful. Had to breed them three extra generations beyond the rest. Got a mean streak wide as can be, gotta be extra rough in breakin' 'em. But worth it, a fine bit of violence they can do for those times when your prey doesn't necessarily go quiet like.

But my pride, my pride is old Susan. She's a crotchety piece of work. A smooth sleek ill tempered killing machine that'll take your hand off at the neck as easily as look at ya. Found her great grandma out in Loch Modan while on a fishing trip. Six legs and a mouthful o' angry looking teeth bout near cut my little dingy in half. Took me damn near four hours to put her down. But oh she was a beaut. Locals called her "Gosh-Haldir" or some such and didn't ask any questions when I paid off some half drunk fishermen to load her dozin' bulk in my cart. Bred her with some local stock out Gilneas way and six months later her progeny is the crown jewel of my stock. Never quite broke the line though. Oh, Susan'll obey me like the good little pet, but she don't do it friendly like. She snarls and bites, growls and grumbles. Never met a more opinionated beast. She's mean with that tail too, always accidental like lashing at me with her spikes.

That was pretty much my year. About twice lost a finger too, but it was worth it. Took every last bit of my savings to get them out of there with me, but they're the key to rebuilding. Gotta keep an eye on the prize ya know. Never met a croc before who got seasick though. You ever see one of those things hork up its last meal? It ain't pretty. Don't think she's gonna be letting me put her back on a boat anytime soon. Don't think I'd want to neither, stuff of nightmares that.

((<!-- m --><a class="postlink" href="http://www.wow-petopia.com/look/crocodilecataclysmgreen.html">http://www.wow-petopia.com/look/crocodi ... green.html</a><!-- m -->))
Axulia, having lost both her drive and ambition with the death of the Lich King, as well as her reason for joining the Ironsong Tribe with the loss of Lurie, decides to wander in search of what to do next. She travels far and wide, moving between Horde and Alliance camps and cities with relative ease... and begins to distance herself from either faction. Her journey is long and arduous, ending only with the start of the Shattering.

She returns to find the guild hall in ruins, and begins to help rebuild.

...no one has yet managed to pry from her the origins of the two large scars running down the left side of her face.

((I hope this is an appropriate way to say "Hay guise, I's kinda' back nao. :O"))
Eonia spent the year off searching for her sister, a task that still wasn't complete when she came back to work. However, she'd managed to locate a Forsaken woman named Jonquil who had more than just a little information to share with her. As it turned out after Eonia joined the Ironsong Tribe, Jonquil had actually played surrogate mother to her sister for all of the woman's life.

In between her travels to near and distant lands, Eonia took time to train and hone her craft. Must not get rusty while vacationing!

Kwami (Amatula) Spent the year in training with the Priests and Priestesses of the Darkspear. Though her 'mother' Jonquil was Forsaken and she'd grown up living among like minded Forsaken peoples, the undead woman thought it necessary for Amatula to stay in contact and keep to the ways of the Darkspear.

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