A drink disturbed..

[Duxxe]

A story I wrote originally to introduce our guild to the Ravenholdt realm, but one that I decided to explore further. I hope to continue writing chapters for it as our in-game characters develop :)

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"'Ey, you 'der!"

A distant voice.. An annoying voice too.. Maybe if I just don't look it'll go away.

"Oi!"

I lowered my head over my drink and shut my eyes with a sigh. Clenching my fists tight on the handle of my tankard.

Oh dear Slyvannas please leave me alone..

No such luck. The voice rudely plonked itself down across from me.

"'Ow ya doin', eh?"

I forced myself to open my eyes, staring down at the oilly looking liquid I had been trying to drink. The waitress had told me this putrid phlegm was in fact The Gallows End Tavern's own special brew. "'Heart-warmin' 'nd sweet. Served 'ot!' she had said, although to me it tasted more like boiled piss. Well, the other patrons seemed to have liked it.. but what would they know? Half of them didn't even have tongues... or hearts for that matter.

A loud snort came from across the table. From the corner of my eye I could see the owner of the voice grinning stupidly at me. Of course he was a troll.. Only trolls have such manners, or lack of.

Why me, why does it have to bother me?

"Nice evenin' for it, eh?"

Reluctantly, I swung my head up to look over the grotty-plank the waitress had shown me to when I asked for a table, and stared at the troll. Covering his eyes were pair of green goggles with rather thick-looking transparent lenses. His hair was doing nothing more to normalise his appearance. It was very 'sticky-uppy' and electric blue. He looked quite mad.

"Scuse me?" I said trying sound sobre and dignified, but sounding more like an Dwarven District drunk as my head spun from the poor mixture of drink and sudden movement.

The troll just grinned back at me, staring. Idiot.

"Whaddya want then!?" I demanded, irritated at this pointless interruption of my self-pity fueled binge.

He continued to say nothing. Swivelling to his left slightly and leaning back, he reached into a pocket sewn clumsy onto the front of the rag he was wearing and pulled out a pipe. The troll looked down at the pipe, and my eyes followed his to stare at it too. It was very long and appeared to be made out of cane. He slowly brought the pipe up to his mouth, and then placed it carefully between his teeth. I waited for him to light it. He didn't. A moment passed before I realised his eyes were again fixed on me. Frustrated with his silence, I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. I was rather good at glares. The troll however, was unfazed. He turned around to face me, resting his elbows on the table with his hands clenched together beneath his chin. Surveying me over his knuckles. He squinted at me through the green tint of his lenses.


"AHA!" He yelled as he slammed his fists down on the table with a almighty bang. I leapt up in surprise, spilling a large quantity of the swill in my tankard in the process.

"WHAT IN THE BLAZES DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING?!" I shouted furiously. "YOU RUDDY BLOODY FOOL!"

"Tha's more like it!" He laughed triumphantly, his pipe dropping the the floor with a clatter as he said it. "Ya coulda passed for a real deady, ya coulda!"

I stared up at him angrily, trying to fend off some of the liquid now submerging into my clothing.

"'Deady?'" I spat back at him. "You're lucky not to be a 'deady' after that bloody episode! You've spilled my drink and ruined my finest wears!"

He lay his palms flat on the table and smiled over at me.

"Just needed ta see if ya had any spirit in ya at all.. apart from tha' ones ya been drinkin'." He winked at me. I gave him a cold stare in return.

"So, is that all then?!' I demanded. "Just playing a little old trick on me to pass the time, eh! Damn blasted troll!"

He said nothing, but remained smiling at me. Resigning to the fact that my clothes were now a lost cause, I ceased rubbing at them and sat down with my arms folded continuing my cold stare at the troll.

"No answer? Out of funny pranks are we? Who are you anyway?"

"Nah. Maybe. Duxxe" The troll replied, smirking now and leaning back on two legs of his chair with his hands behind his head.

"Ducks? Lovely. Well if that's all, perhaps I could finish this?" I said shaking my drink at him. Then raising an eyebrow. "..Alone?".

"An' who be you then?" He questioned, ignoring my request for solitude completely. "It usually polite ta introduce ya self!"

I stared at his large face in disbelief.

Polite? Polite?! Some nerve this son of an ogre's got! Still, maybe he'll leave if I humour him for a bit..

"I" I replied " Am Sir Arwynn Persaius Alexander Bodgerolde!" I drew myself up in my seat in an attempt to look more noble and sophisticated. He cocked his head to one sider, looking closely at me. He nodded.

"Good ta meet ya Bodge!" Duxxe said as he picked up his pipe and placed it back in his tusky mouth.

I began to splutter in protest at this new nickname but gave in to it before I could offer much protest, slivering back down in my chair. No one called me Arwynn anymore.. let alone Sir.

'Just Persaius ' I thought sadly.


Duxxe withdrew a long match from the pocket he had taken the pipe from earlier, and struck it along the table causing it to ignite. He brought the flame to the funnel of the pipe and lit it, causing it to produce such a powerful scent of tobacco I wondered how it didn't choke him. I watched the smoke rising in dark curls from the pipe for a few seconds, mesmerised, before I shook myself and began to question the troll once more.

"So do you want something then? You know I-"

"Ya sittin' at our table mon." He interrupted, blinking at me over his pipe.

"Your table?" I scoffed. "I do believe this table is the property of this ruddy tavern, and if I want to sit here then I RUDDY WILL!"

Fists clenched on the table and breathing heavily I fixed him with the most intimidating stare I could muster. He continued to look at me, a smile curling the edges of his lips.

"I will not be intimidated by you, Mr Troll!"

"Sure ya can sit, mon." He said, "Always sit 'ere we do, 'cause old boney get a bit funny 'bout anywhere else. Says 'e sat 'ere all 'is life, so now 'e gonna sit 'ere all 'is death'". The troll let out a loud cackle. "You sit wit' us mon, ya join us tonight?".

I narrowed my eyes at the troll.

Does he think he's here with someone? Who's we? I thought he was nuts right from the start!

"We?" I asked questioningly. "Who's we? I see you. Not a we."

As I spoke the door of the tavern swung open, causing a blast of cold air to rush into the room. A group of strangers filed in, and they were indeed strange. I spun around to stare at the new arrivals. Watching as they gazed around the vicinity , I hoped these weren't the friends the troll had just been speaking of. My fears were confirmed almost immediately. They looked directly over at the table Duxxe and I were sat at, and started moving towards us.
They were a peculiar bunch to put it simply, and over they came, walking, limping and jumping. A mixture of scarred orcs and tall laughing trolls were being followed by some very gaunt looking human-types in expensive clothing. One particularly dead-looking old man was strolling alongside a large tauren with a peg-leg and a fishing hat, chatting.

These once-men in expensive robes and tunics, mixing with orcs, idiotic trolls and a smelly old tauren! What is this?

Something about the gang of misfits seemed to radiate strangeness.. it was weird... odd.

Duxxe looked over at the group heading towards us and grinned. He turned back to me smiling.

"Ya know for some reason, they call us ' The Oddity'."

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[Duxxe]

Chapter two : 'Graces of the Gallows' End Tavern'

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Grunting, snoring and the occasional belch... That's pretty much how my first night at the Gallows' End Tavern had been. I was staying in room four, and what a room it was. Had I not seen the room in the faint sunlight before darkness, I would have probably believed it had no walls at all.. I heard some rather odd sounds through them actually, but I don't really want to talk about that.. Anyway, as it happens, I had seen the room in some light. It was a small room. A dirty room. A room any half-decent swamp-dwelling tramp would be proud of. Pictures were hung lopsidedly on walls, maggots had furnished their own cosy little space in the cupboard with a dead cat. And a scattering of books lay about the place, complete with crude drawings of the sullen-faced Innkeeper Renee. Charming.
Thinking back about what I had read earlier, it didn't quite fit. The brochure pinned clumsily behind the counter in the bar below me had described room for as a 'Warm and welcoming sanctuary of peace and comfort'.. At least, I think it's what the brochure said. It looked as though the owner of the hand-writing had most probably been a drunk murloc. A murloc with only the faintest idea of how to spell complicated words like 'it' and 'the'.

I could have coped with all this, really I could, but for the biscuit. The final biscuit. And it really was the last biscuit - and the last I saw of that room. This biscuit came in the form of a rude awakening at two in the morning by a drunk old once-man, called Horace. Apparently, when it comes to attempting to get into someone elses' room, in the middle of the damn night with the wrong key, the old guy had really taken to heart the old saying 'Try, try again'. After the twenty-third attempt at fitting the key into the lock, I gave up hoping the old git would give up for the night, simply curl up floor and pass out. Stumbling over the rotting floorboards to the door, I yanked at the handle, causing it to splinter and rip away from the wooden frame. I cursed loudly.

"O's There!?' A squawky old voice croaked at me through the new hole in the door. 'I know yer in there! In my room, eh!? What for, eh?!"

I stood back from the door old door, and called back "This is my room stranger! I'm trying to get some sleep, so kindly leave me in peace!"

"My room, mine, MINE!" The old voice replied stubbornly.

I knelt down, squashing a maggot that was making a break for freedom under the door. Why me? Peering through the space where the door handle used to live, I saw a small greyish face staring back at me defiantly.

"Gett-out! My room that is, it's mine!" He yelled. I 'ad it first I did!"

I frowned at the old man through the hole. "Look here old fellow, I paid good coin for this room! You must be mistaken!"

This place is a nest for nut-cakes! I knew I should have just got on that flamin' night zeppelin. First the troll, now this mad old coffin-dodger Why me? Again, always me!

He was still looking crossly back at me past the splintered edges of the gap. "Lemme in now! Lemme in!" He said, stamping his foot agitatedly. "Lemme in, or I'm comin' in!"

"Look" I said, lowering my voice in an attempted to sound more agreeable."Look. Go find Renee, she can sort a room out for you. Give you a nice-" I turned to look back at the disaster of a room behind me and grimaced. "A nice clean room like this one here! How about that old friend? Fair yes?"

"Mine! Now! Let-me-in-NOW! Horace's room! I Horace!" He screamed, kicking the door with each word, causing some of the screws in the hinges to fall with a clunk to the floor.

"Will you just BUGGER OFF!" I yelled furiously through the wooden door. "I'm warning you! You mad old fool!"

"No! NO!" He called back stroppily.

Right.. Right. I've given fair warning. I do need sleep!

I turned and strode across the room to the old fire-place built crookedly into the old wall. Crouching down on the sooty old hearth, I leant in and wrenched a rusty old poker out of the ashes. I stood up and gave the poker a good swish in the air to clear the soot. Unfortunately, despite my usual skill with a fires and indeed pokers - one of the swings went wide and got into a vicious melee with a moudly old wall painting. Both poker and painting fell with a loud crash to the floor, splitting the frame of picture and causing the panted canvas within to sag sadly.

"Wassat! Wassat?!" squealed the voice from the door. I quickly kicked the remains of the old piece under the bed and knelt down, picking up the dropped solution to my 'old git' problem. Marching back over the door I crouched back down by the door and looked through. Nothing.

He's gone? Just like that? Better check. I don't want the old fool burst in on me when I'm finally passed out for the night!

Fortunately, although the handle of the door was past repair, the actual lock was intact. I pulled the rusted iron key out of the pocket Renee had handed me earlier, and put it into the lock. As I twisted the key in the lock, it squeaked loudly, and I wished with all my might that the sound of it wouldn't result in bringing Horace charging back down the corridor screaming profanities.
The lock clicked and released its hold on the rotting frame of the door.

Out and in quickly. If he's there, remember the poker!

I tightened my grip on the old iron bar in my hand and braced myself. 1.. 2.. 3! Swinging the door open, I charged out into the corridor, swinging the poker dangerously over my head. I never saw Horace, who had in fact finally given up and laid himself down to sleep in front of my door. My right leg right caught under his boney torso, causing me to lose my balance, and fall arms flailing to to floor.

"Eh? Eh?!" The dead man barked, confused. He looked over his right shoulder, saw me lying in a tangled heap on the floor, and looked back forwards again into the open door. Sensing his moment, he jumped up and stumbled into the room cackling triumphantly.

It took me some time to calm down from that. I was there a good while - bashing the door and using a whole range of words I saved only for special occasions such as this. After a good thirty minutes of threats, swearing and begging I finally resigned to the fact that I wasn't getting back into the room. Trudging gloomily downstairs into the bar, I found Duxxe still seated at the table we had been at hours earlier. The room was still well lit, most of the candles and lamps were still burning brightly with the fire in the place still flickering peacefully. The troll was leaning backwards on his chair again, resting his large two-toed feet on the table before him. He looked over to the stairs at the sound of my footsteps.

"Ey Bodge!" He said, grinning at me. "Ya back ta see ol' Duxxe again?"

"Please.. Call me Persaius." I said, rubbing my forehead with a palm as I sat down on the other side of the table. "Why are you still here anyway? Still guarding this table against other patrons?"

The troll smiled at me for a moment. "What brings ya back down ya self, eh?"

"Oh er, can't sleep." I lied. "Awfully, noisy up there you know.."

There is no way in hell I'm admitting to a troll that I've just been out-smarted by that mad, old wombat!

The troll grinned and nodded at me knowingly. "I tend ta avoid stayin' if I can. Is full of character tha's for sure." He laughed.

"Yes.. Well, quite." I sniffed. "But, what are you still doing here then? You said you don't like to stay?"

Duxxe yawned and stretched his arms out from behind his head. He reached down and slid the goggles off over his head.

"Gettin' back to Durotar. Business done 'ere for now." He said. The troll pulled out a filthy looking old rag from his leathery jacket and began gently scrubbing at the lenses of his goggles with it. "Catchin' a zeppelin. Must be due soon."

Rocking back forward and sitting up straight he strapped the green goggles back onto his head and reached into his trouser pocket, pulled out a very dented and old looking pocket watch. He nodded happily at it. I leaned forward over the table curiously to look it at it. The long hand was missing and the hour hand was pointed to seven. This savaged old wreck of a clock clearly was completely past it's day. I leant back and raised an eyebrow at Duxxe.

"You know, I think that might be broken." I smirked at him.

He just shook his head, and smiled down at the watch. "Nah, I don't think so. I fixed it."

"You fixed it?" I asked, raising my other eyebrow to join the first. "Usually when you fix things, they work again.."

Duxxe said nothing, just continued to watch and wait in silence. I felt annoyed. I wasn't used to being corrected. No one used to before..


"Excuse me a moment." I said, turning and walking away from the table without waiting for an answer. I headed towards the rather grimy counter I had read the room notice about yesterday. I felt rather foolish, looking around and the rather grotty building. What had I expected? Servants? Cleanliness? Fresh air? Those days were gone. How could I have expected anything better than what I had received?

But still! I paid for a room, grotty, grimly, snotty or slimy! But where is it? Stolen by a thief that careless old nag let into this place. Any responsible Innkeeper would agree that I should at least be able to expect a private area for one's self!

I rapped my knuckles briskly on the wooden planks of the counter and straightened myself up. Hear the sound of shuffling footsteps I turned to face the door behind the counter.

Ah here she is. Taking her time about it too! This place really is a disgrace!

She slowly made her way over to me from the door. It seemed to take an eternity. This did not aid my mood.

I explained the room situation to Renee - slowly, mind. She seemed to be having trouble grasping what the devil I was on about. I began to think that it may not have been a murloc who wrote those brochures after all.

"..And so you see.." I finished, "..it really does not feel right that I should be paying for a room I have no access to. You understand, I'm sure."

But sadly, it would appear Renee did not understand. She stood there blinking stupidly at me. I sighed, rubbing my temples firmly with my fingers.

"Never mind.. Never mind, just forget I said anything". Forgetting seemed to be something she could grasp, and she turned from me to shuffle slowly back out of the room.

I will lose my mind if I stay here any longer. These people are demented! I must find my way back to the Wizard's Sanctum. Somehow.. I'll fix it.. I'll fix it all.. They will help me. They must. But how to get there.. I've no idea.. I'm not sure I could gain passage on a Stormwind vessel. The nearest free port is Booty Bay. But how can I get there..

I span on the spot so quickly I nearly lost my balance and fell over for the second time that night.

"You Troll.. I mean Duxxe!" I said excitedly. "Ratchet. You know it?!"

The troll looked over at me, tilting his head to one side. He looked suspicious. "Course mon.. It's tha main free port on Kalimdor. Why do'ya ask."

Brilliant! This troll can take me there! Then maybe I can barter passage across to Booty Bay!

"I need to get to Booty Bay.. I have to visit somewhere.. " I said, holding back. I wasn't sure how much the troll would like the idea of helping an ex-hu..human back into the civilized society of the Alliance. "I could get a ship to there you think?"

The troll still looked suspicious. "Business is it, eh?" He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and stared closely at me. "Ya, sure. Boats almost as regular as zeppelins."

I sat down across from him once more. "The thing is you see.. I don't know the way. I've not much experience of such routes."

Turning to face me across the table, Duxxe said "Surely, ya be a lot better off takin' a flight ta Grom'grol? Not far from Booty Bay ya know."

"Are you mad? I'd never find my way through that jungle. There are all sorts in there!" I replied, shakily. Then in an attempt to make myself sound less afraid "I think it'd just be a little easier to go by sea. Maybe see some people on the way, you know."

He leant back in his seat, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "I need ta visit the crossroads of the Barrens. I 'ave trade there within tha' week. I spose if ya not sure of tha' way.. Maybe I can travel the journey with ya."

I was a little taken aback. Although it was my intention to ask for the trolls assistance, he had granted it before I had asked of it from him.

Perhaps I've judged this fellow a little too soon? You know, I'm not sure even back in civilization many people would offer companionship so easily. And I've not exactly been generous with the pleasantries..

"You.. you'd go with me?" I asked quietly.

"Yea.. Yea mon, why not, eh? We go together." He smiled at me. "You come wit' ole' Duxxey, eh?".

I felt a strange stretching sensation growing across my lower face and lips. I reached up to rub at the area, when I realised. Had it been so long? Had I really forgotten how?

I was smiling.



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I hope you enjoyed the story so far. Any feedback will be greatly appreciated :smiley: