Welcome!
The Warhammer Gazette (formerly known as The Ostermark Gazette) is here to give roleplayers playing Warhammer Online a place to showcase their writing and art, as well as find and interact with other RPers.
If you are a roleplayer on Ostermark, Phoenix Throne, Vortex (or elsewhere, I can add your server to the list if you send me a PM!), register a new account and then head over to our New Member Walk-Through page to see the recommended path to take to start interacting on the site.
If you run into problems registering (for instance, if you don't receive an email and you've checked to make sure it wasn't caught in a spam filter) or run into any other problems while browsing around the site, be sure to let me know via the Feedback form.
Thanks for stopping by,
Phileas
Editor-in-chief of the Warhammer Gazette
About The Warhammer Gazette
The Warhammer Gazette is a fansite for the online game Warhammer Online: The Age of Reckoning. Its purpose is to assist roleplayers in finding each other, interacting, and giving them a place to store their creative projects. You may find references to the Ostermark Gazette riddled throughout the site, so bear with us as we make the transition from being a site about Ostermark RP to something more encompassing, especially to our new collaborators from Phoenix Throne.
There are in-character (IC) and out-of-character (OOC) sections, and some places where it is left to the users of the site to decide.
In-Character Options
Idle hands
Ievae had thought their trip to Lothern a blessing, taking her far from the stench of battle. She no longer had to watch the other women of the house attend the wounded shadow warriors brought to the mansion, where all she could do, all she was good for, was staying out of their way. Sometimes she made tea. Or cake. They seemed to like their cake, those fit enough to eat solids. Some of the men let their eyes linger on her as if they expected her to do something. As if at any moment she might awe them with some queer action or other. She had been glad to be rid of their staring.
Stirring the Nest
Meryt was vaguely aware of the air around her thrumming with an energetic vibration reminiscent of a time when a bee had entangled itself into her long pale hair. She swished and swept at her hair conscientiously, but the buzzing only grew louder and seemingly more intense, a sound that absolutely unnerved her. The longer the sound continued the colder she felt her blood run. Not being able to see the creature but hearing it instead only made the experience that much worse. Gritting her teeth helplessly, she groaned in unbecoming agony and attempted to sink to her knees as slowly as she could. Across the field was a pair of Asur which she signaled to in desperation. Obligingly, one of the Asur moved towards her while the other one remained in the distanc
Dancing on the Edge (3)
((Yeah, left this hanging for too long))
Moruchtuil languidly stretched on the grass and stared at the blue sky above. He had not left the walled gardens about the tower in weeks. The last attempt had him dragged back by spites and pinned by the dryad in tree form.
He rubbed his face and groaned. The raging fits that he could never remember had stopped, or so everyone else reported. They struck without warning and he usually came to while restrained by the dryad in her warrior tree form.
Oath of the Fallen, Book 2, Pt. 1
Rapskahl's beloved nauglir - the origin of Isabelle's name.
Rapskahl Bitterbite lounged in his narrow, spitefully hard bed, eyeing his battle gear and halberd, nestled in a corner of his private chambers. He made steeple of his hands, folding his lips together. To an idle observer this might have seemed a quizzical contemplation. However, anyone who knew Rapskahl would tell you that the emptiness inside his head was such that you could hear the echo of a scream for days.
Recruitment, Part II
Like most familiar childhood places one revisits as an adult, Giacinta found the monastery near Luccini quite changed. However, this was not simply due to her own perceptions. Smoke hung upon the air like a tattered banner, and the terrazzo hallways were deserted. She strode carefully down the traditional long outdoor promenade with its sweeping pointed arches, wincing a bit as each fall of her metal-clad feet clattered loudly upon the marble as if trumpeting her presence.
Hairline fracture
Dwarf lands were a wonderful, terrible place to be. Pharrael peered curiously over the ranges of Thunder Mountain, braced against the thick stench of the air. Humans and dwarves alike moseyed around the warcamp, catching shuteye where they could. Pharrael couldn’t sleep. Something had driven him from his bed. It had been driving him all along, he realised. The same familiar, coaxing fingers that kept him moving, prodding him deeper into the war. Faulki padded up to him and leaned heavily against his legs in companionable silence. He looked down at the lion, and for an instant he missed that soothing, dominating presence in his mind. Abruptly he pushed it away.
Destro Night
So we've talked about it a fair bit on the Alliance forums, and Zarukhad reckons we should give this weekend a shot! This will be destruction characters only!
Server: Gorfang
Time/day: 8:30pm EST this Saturday.
Names we've chosen so far would be myself as Rapskahl and Zarukhad as Zarkhad.
Changer
The room smelt funny. Pharrael sniffed around for the source of it, and discovered a bowl of fruit going off. Well, that didn’t surprise him. The inn he had taken residence in was cheap and tucked away within the bowls of Altdorf. Faulki had his own, dirty mattress pushed up into a corner. The lion sprawled there, watching him. Lately Pharrael had had trouble understanding him, as if a thick fog obscured the greater picture. Faulki seemed oddly vague to him, cryptic. And yet he could feel clearly the process of thought, only the end result was blurred.