Uh... where did all the posts go?

[Adenas]

I could have sworn there used to be more...

[Gameliel]

This question has already been answered dozens of times at this point. Try actually looking around for an answer instead of immediately posting.

Click here. (http://forums.worldofwar.net/showthread.php?t=369351)

[Valas Azuviir]

Eh, we haven't had any goldsellers posting there links on the boards last few days. Guess, Fluffy the Murloc got hungry. Luckily, threads are its favourite thing to eat, could you imagine what it would do to a poster, as hungry as it was. :wink:

See Gameliel's post for the real reason

[Tor varr]

You mean to tell me that I have to re-post my entire story? Allright, no problem.

[Adenas]

This question has already been answered dozens of times at this point. Try actually looking around for an answer instead of immediately posting.

I think I have better things to do than trawl every forum I occasionally visit in case someone has posted an explanation on some obscure admin topic which no-one ever reads.

A sarcastic reply was uncalled for. A link to the relevant post would have been sufficient.

[Elly]

You mean to tell me that I have to re-post my entire story? Allright, no problem.

No, not at all. The posts were all moved to one forum so we're in the process of moving them back to their original forum.

I searched for all threads started by Tor varr but there aren't any so did you include your story in someone elses thread? If so, just give me the title of the story and I'll dig it out and move it here.

[Tor varr]

The story I started was known by the title "The Epic of Thrak." I started it myself, on my own thread. Does it not show my name, or something?

The original version has returned to the forum, but I had reposted it, so now there are two exactly the same stories of the same title. I don't know what I should do from here. If you choose to delete one or the other, please consult me first.

[Elly]

Tell me which one you wanted deleted.

[Gameliel]

A sarcastic reply was uncalled for. A link to the relevant post would have been sufficient.

Nothing personal. It just bugs me when users do not look around sufficiently. Example: it took me very little time to find out what the matter was, I looked at a couple of forums for a thread about it and found one. :soapbox:

That being said, harboring resentments over it is not something I want to do, neither is it something I want you to do. So I apologize for my admittedly short tempered reply. :thumbsup:

[Adenas]

That being said, harboring resentments over it is not something I want to do, neither is it something I want you to do. So I apologize for my admittedly short tempered reply. :thumbsup:

...and I apologise for getting irate about it when your point was quite justified.

[snowieken]

Wish everyone here would settle their differences like this.

[Tor varr]

If I had to choose which one I would have deleted, I would have to pick the older one. The reason is simply that with my new version, I was able to correct many of the errors within the original post that I could not have before.

The date on the original version is 16-05-2006

[Brighde]

Personally I am happy for the opportunity to put my two main stories back in the forum myself. It gave me a chance, as Tor Var said, to corrrect some errors and establish some continuity to a story that is written sort of in "Scenes"...there is my silver lining to the dark cloud.:cloud9:

[rgirty]

Torr varr is this the story?

Chapter 1

And Cudguel said, “My son is strong, but he shall never be stronger than I.” And so Cudguel raised his hammer to vanquish he of his flesh; but lo, Pata struck with his knife, and gullied his cruel father. As the blood of evil drenched the land, all life died, and the deserts of Draenor grew where once his fathers chosen people lived. And thus Pata chose his own people, and he said unto them, “You shall be thy chosen race. You shall seek true honour on the field of Battle. You shall be called a name that shall be known as meaning true warrior to the end of all days. You shall be called Orcs.

-The Legends of the Orcish Hordes, as transcribed by Henry Dumont of the 49th Guard


The city of Orgrimmar was the new home of the Orcs, and it was within these walls that Thrak was born.

He was born the son of a butcher. His father was everything that the humans believed the Orcs to be- large and strong, even by Orc standards, he was an abusive drunk, and loved nothing more then beating Thrak. Many a time, Thrak hid himself up in the attic, letting his bruises heal and his bones knit.

Thrak’s life was nightmarish. He could not understand what he had done to deserve such treatment. Even harder to understand was why his mother or brothers refused to aid him. ‘They have the power to end this. Why don’t they!’ Though this thought echoed through his head, he would never voice it. It was too dangerous to show weakness in his house.

He trusted no one, save for his sisters. The one who was older then even he was known as Griska, and the one that was younger then he was known as Sachi. They tended his wounds when he was injured, and snuck him food when he locked in his closet. They sang him songs, and treated him like he was worth something.

Thrak knew he suffered badly, but when he learned of the nightmares his sisters lived, he was horrified. Griska had suffered from a far different kind of abuse from their father. It was appalling; he dared break the Divine Laws of Pata for his baser desires. And yet his mother and brothers did nothing.

“They are just as guilty as father, and you know that!” Thrak shouted. Griska let out a frustrated sigh. She had tried to defend their mother and brothers once again. She had tried to explain that they suffered as they did, and were as much the victims of their father’s abuses. It was hopeless, though.

“Mother can’t do anything to help us. She wants to, but she can’t!”

“Really? Does father beat her?”

“Thrak…”

“Answer the question.”

“Thrak, please…”

“Answer the Question!” Thrak’s fist slammed on the table, shattering one of the legs. ‘He has inherited father’s strength,’ Griska thought, ‘and his anger.’

“No, he doesn’t beat mother.” Griska hated giving in to her brother, but he would not be swayed. Tears swelled behind her grey eyes. Thrak regretted his anger, but he still intended to persuade her of the truth.

“Griska,” Thrak started, placing his hand upon her shoulder, “I know this is hard for you to accept. You want to have hope that they are innocent of these acts, and that they don’t save you because they can’t. But the truth is they can, but they don’t. We are on our own.”

A creak echoes from the doorway. Thrak looks up, expecting the worst, but is relieved to see it is only Sachi. Tears of terror filled her eyes. She did not know what there was to fear from their father, but she knew to be afraid. ‘She is so young,’ Thrak thought gloomily, ‘but Griska was that age when father began on her.’

Thrak waved his younger sister over. He knelt down to look her in the eye, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb, and said to her something she will never forget: “Sachi, listen to me. I swear that I will defend you from him, no matter what the cost.”

Before you read this chapter, I have brought in a currency system. International currency is quite simple; 100 coppers equal 1 brass, 100 brass equal 1 silver, 100 silvers equal 1 gold. Also, I will be using several terms such as ingots, marks, notes, and issics. These are going to be local terms for money, each equivalent to 1 gold coin. Dwarf money is much more specific. Each coin will have a title, such as 2/4 silver. This means that for every 2 parts impurities in a coin, there are four parts silver. 0/4 means that the coin is pure.

Also, you remember when I rated this story for its violence. Well, here it is. I must warn you, I watch a lot of CSI, so I went into the same level of description. This means that this next segment is extremely violent. If you don’t violence, don’t read this. Although I would like to point out the fact that there is cannibalism in many of the undead stories.

So, you have decided to keep reading. Okay, but I did warn you.

Chapter 2

Throwing his warblade to the ground, the chief yelled “What is it Pata, that I have done to be refused entrance to eternity. I have slain many foes, I myself died on the field of battle. I have made sacrifices, and built new altars in your name. So what is it that I have done.” And lo, the sky darkened and thundered, the air grew thick, and the water to blood. And lo, Pata stepped down from the immortal sky, wrapped in great chains, and he spoke “You have dishonoured yourself, and so cannot enter eternity.” “What is it that I have done to encourage your wrath?” The chief said. Pata spoke with a voice that echoed thunder “You have known your daughter, and for that you are damned. Your soul shall wander Draenor for eternity. It shall rot while your spirit still lives. It shall be hunted by demons, and fed upon by wraiths.” The chief tried to save himself “But Pata, you have never told anyone this divine law, therefore, how can I be blamed for a crime I did not know I committed.” And lo, the words of the chief enraged Pata further. Draenor shook, mountains cracked into great canyons, rivers changed course, and the oceans boiled. Pata spoke in a voice that made the chief weep in fear and unholy despair “I should not have to tell you that such an act is wrong.”

-The Legends of the Orcish Horde as transcribed by Henry Dumont of the 49th Guard

Times were hard for the butcher shop. With his father selling inferior meats and swiping money from the till for rum, Thrak found it quite hard to keep business going. And it was these thoughts on his mind as he looked over the ledger.

‘Cost of beef is now at 28 issics from 14.’ Thrak shook his head. The drought had dried the river, leaving numerous herds without water. And now the price had doubled.

‘I can safely raise the price of beef to a half issic a cut. That would mean the profits would drop,’ Thrak reached for a long scroll on the edge of his old desk, ‘by 23%. Subtract the average weekly wastage,’ Thrak always referred to his father’s theft as wastage, ‘and we’ll be… over 100 issics in debt before the month is out.’

Thrak let out a soft string of swears, mostly against the Goblin beef merchants. Thrak had had to deal with being in debt before, but never to this extent. He was so deeply in thought that he didn’t even notice Griska until she spoke to him.

“It’s been done,” she said so softly that for a moment Thrak though he had imagined the voice. Turning to his sister, he saw the tears in her eyes. Thrak stood up, fear clutching his heart.

“Father went to Sachi.” Her breathing became ragged. “He…” She could say no more. Grabbing onto the door frame, she slid tearfully to the floor.

Thrak shook with anger. Grabbing the large cutting knife from the table, he went to walk out the door. Griska grabbed the cuff of his coat sleeve. “By Pata’s breath, what are you doing?”

“I promised Sachi I would protect her, and I failed.” Silent tears streamed down Thrak’s face. “To preserve my honour, I must end the life of the monster who did this to her.”

“Thrak, he’ll kill you!” Griska shouted. “You’re only 10 years of age, and not even half his height! Besides, you are only a boy. I’m sure Pata would forgive you.”

“But could I forgive myself?”

Thrak yanked back his arm, and stormed upstairs, leaving Griska in tears. ‘My sister is in a living nightmare, and now my brother goes to his death.’

Thrak found his father in the hallway, passed out from rum. Hatred unheard of echoed through Thrak. There was no hesitation on his part.

He ran the knife across his father’s throat, deep and straight. The spray struck Thrak, and the walls. A pool began to spread along the floor, and Thrak watched in grim satisfaction as his father’s eyes opened, and he realized he was drowning in his own blood.

As life left his father’s eyes, Thrak dropped the knife, and vomited on the floor. He heard a squeak echo from two sides. His sister, Griska stood at the top of the stairs, one hand over her mouth. The squeak from the other side was Sachi, bruised and beaten. Old tears, nearly dried clung to her face, and the same grim satisfaction decorated her face as well.

Thrak looked at both of them, and stood to his full height. Despite being five years younger then even Griska, he towered over both of them. Griska’s eyes widened as she heard Thrak speak in a deep commanding voice she had never heard before:

“Pack lightly. We’re leaving.”

[Tor varr]

Yes. Those are chapters one and two of my story, "The Epic of Thrak." I would say that you copied it from my original version, because I can see the grammar errors I changed in my latest version. In the end, both stories are completely the same, all I did was fix some of the grammar errors.

Why do you ask?