Say What?

01. World of Warcraft, Beli's Tale | July 3rd, 2005 | No Comments »

I overheard this night elf loudly attempting to form a militia by declaring that their mission was to fight those who opposed life. Let me say that again: To fight those … who opposed life.

Now it could just be me way of thinking, but if ye opposed life, wouldn’t ye be dead?

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The Guns of Khaz Modan, Part 6

01. World of Warcraft, Ringo's Tale | November 23rd, 2004 | No Comments »

The guard glared down at them, beard bristling.

Ringo tugged at Dolly’s sleeve.

“Kneel, girlie!” Then, to Beli, kneeling on the other side of him, “I told ye we shouldn’t have brought her.”

“Shhh!” Beli scowled, “The king!”

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The Guns of Khaz Modan, Part 5

01. World of Warcraft, Ringo's Tale | November 21st, 2004 | No Comments »

The gnome pressed her nose to the bear’s black one. The bear seemed a little perplexed by this, but highly entertained.

“And what’s your name?” She batted her big blue eyes at the bear, laying prone on the distillery’s floor, feet kicking in the air.

“Crapper.” Ringo growled, quaffing a rhapsody malt before spitting foam across the bar as Beli’s hand retracted from a location only wives normally freely grab in public. “OR! We don’t have a name picked out yet! Muradin’s beard, woman, you’re gong to leave me a eunuch! And I need another malt!”

The gnome leaned forward, and began whispering into the bear’s ear. Turning his delicate parts away from Beli, Ringo sipped his new drink, watching the bear and gnome on the floor.

“What’s her story, then?”

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The Guns of Khaz Modan, Part 4

01. World of Warcraft, Ringo's Tale | November 20th, 2004 | No Comments »

Once the gunshots stopped echoing, the bear cub bounded out of the tunnel, into the snow, the violence of a moment before already forgotten.

Ringo checked the bloody bodies of the troggs, turning up only a few shiny rocks and a half-eaten piece of some sort of rotten meat. He squinted as the bear leaped through snowdrifts, the glare bright this morning. Ringo slipped his goggles up from around his neck, fitting them over his eyes. Hefting his pack, he followed the bear.

“Come on, you. You can play when we get to Kharanos.”

Slinging his blunderbuss over his shoulder, he stumped down the hill, heading down the pass, chewing a cold sausage.

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The Guns of Khaz Modan, Part 3

01. World of Warcraft, Ringo's Tale | November 17th, 2004 | No Comments »

“What are you going to name the bear?” Grelin Whitebeard had cleared a spot on the Anvilmar bar, and dipped his quill into the bronze inkwell by his hand, continuing to write.

Ringo looked at the cub, who was currently trying to chew on a chair leg.

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