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While on vacation with my warcraft loving buddies this weekend, at about 3 in the morning I had an epiphany that not everyone in warcraft is a hero. Not everyone is a certain class with abilities they use to fight in the honor of {insert faction here.} Some people have no actual abilities whatsoever.
This began as a semi-babbling story about people like that. I think it may, however, turn into something more. We'll see. Unlike my past stories I honestly have no real idea where this one will go. But that's half the fun, eh?
The early morning sun glinted off the armor of a grim-faced human as he charged forwards into his doom.
An orc in silver armor met his charge, their swords clashing together violently. They pulled apart, each falling backwards into a new position. The orc made his move first, kicking the human in the chest. The human fell backwards but caught himself, slicing forwards with his sword. The orc was caught off guard, as the human jabbed his weapon straight into his armpit, dealing a fatal blow.
“Ack! I have been slain!” the orc shouted.
“Aha! Victory for the…” the human paused, leaning off to the side. He nodded his head. “Victory for the Alliance! I am…Victorian! Ious! Victorious!”
“This play sucks,” the night elf sighed, stretching his legs into the seat in front of him.
“Shut up,” hissed his companion, a human, as he elbowed his friend in the arm to quiet him. “I like a good play.”
“The acting is sub-par and the special effects are offensively pathetic,” the night elf continued. “Who would believe this?”
“You’re not supposed to believe this! It’s for fun!” the human argued.
“What fun,” the elf replied sarcastically.
On stage, the curtain was falling as the human and green-pained human with a pillow up his shirt bowed gracefully.
The night elf stood up, and brushed past his friend. The human sighed and followed as the rest of the crowd began to dispurse.
“Must you over-analyze everything?” he asked desperately.
“I don’t see why we had to watch that. I’m not even interested in the war.”
“Killing orcs is…a natural part of our heritage,” the human argued.
“Eh…I’m gunna go home and eat something.”
“Hey! Wait up!” shouted a high-pitched third voice.
“Oh!” the human said, embarrassed. “We forgot Verm in the crowd.”
Through the mass of bodies came a Gnome, shoving aside the legs of the various people who had decided to see the production today. He ran up energetically to the night elf and human.
“Hey guys, I nearly lost you,” he said, grinning. The elf gave an exasperated look, while the human gave a half-smile.
“Sorry, Verm,” the human said. “Faergh here wants to head home. What do you want to do?”
“Oh, there’s so much to do!” Verm said excitedly. “We should go to the beach, Abin! Or to the forests, or visit Celestes, or meet new people or go to another show or fight the Horde or go to Silithus or-”
“Maybe another day,” chuckled Abin. Faergh sneered.
“How you were survived being raised by Gnomes, I’ll never fathom,” the cynical elf commented.
The three companions walked down the streets of Southshore, a peaceful little town on the coast of the Hillsbrad Foothills. They looked an odd group, resembling a staircase as the tall elf stood on the left, the human in the middle, and the gnome at the end.
The elf’s face was stern and strained. Faergh’s eyes glowed a strange yellow like all night elves, the light reflecting off his pale blue skin. He had long, braided blue hair that hung down over his shoulders onto his chest. His arms were crossed over his vest, his walking pace steady and firm.
Next to him was the more relaxed human, Abin. He was completely and utterly bland. He walked blandly next to the elf, his bland face holding a bland expression. He had bland colored hair in a bland shape, with bland eyes and a bland nose. He had almost no noticeable features. It was almost eerie.
The gnome with them had an obliviously cheerful face common in most gnomes. His head was bald and clearly waxed, as the sun glinted off of it. His face more than made up for the hair, as a full black beard nearly went down to his knees and a mustache curled up around his nose. Verm, as his friends called him, was proud of his beard. His dwarf friend Celestes had taught him how to grow it.
“I’m gunna go make a sandwich,” Faergh informed his friends, “then take a nap.”
“What kind of sandwich?” Verm asked with genuine curiosity. “One of my Uncles is working on a new flammable mustard-”
As he rambled on, the elf shot a sideways glance at Abin. Abin smiled back with a shrug. He knew what the night elf was thinking. He was simply baffled that this human would continue to live with a family of gnomes. They had raised him for as long as he remembered, however. Ever since his parents…
He shook it off. As far as he was concerned, he was a gnome. And this disturbed Faergh greatly.
“Whatever,” Faergh said. “I’ll see you guys-”
An arrow embedded itself up to the shaft in a wooden door inches away from Faergh’s head. His eyes widened, his face paled. Abin put an arm around him so the elf wouldn’t lose consciousness.
Looking around desperately, the trio spied a massive tauren standing near the gates of the town. He held a bow in his hand, almost prepared to nock another arrow.
“Wow! I love this town!” Verm cheered.
“Duck and cover!” Abin screamed so the nearby civilians would hear. The human and elf dove behind a food stall for cover, as an arrow hit another human in the arm, sending him flying backwards.
“Verm! Get over here!” Abin hissed. The people of Southshore were swarming around, ducking the barrage of arrows. Verm seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly. He nodded at Abin’s call, however, and headed over.
“I think I’m going to like this town,” he announced.
“It’s awful,” Faergh said. “Can’t get a good nights sleep without some renegade Horde trying to be a hero.”
The city guards, used to such an attack, were already charging in. Wielding his sword, the one in the lead stepped towards the tauren, who seemed unfazed. Suddenly a metal trap launched upwards, clasping around his leg, as the ends of it shot fire upwards, engulfing the trapped victim. The tauren now began to back up, still firing arrows to keep his opponents at bay.
“We’ve got to help! He’s getting away!” Verm shouted.
“Stupid gnome, you’ve no idea what you’re doing,” Faergh snapped.
But the gnome did not listen. He charged forwards with a speed the guards could not match, trying to chase down the tauren.
“He’ll get himself killed!” Abin gasped.
“As is bound to happen eventually in this town,” Faergh sighed. “There’s a Horde city not even a mile from here. No two Alliance and Horde cities are closer together than this. You made a mistake coming here.”
“We like new things,” Abin answered grimly. “And if you hate it so much here, why do you stay?”
“It is my home,” the night elf replied simply.
The tauren was retreating, knowing that the odds were greatly against him. He paid no attention to the charging gnome, as he retreated with amazing speed into the woods. The guards called their chase to a halt, and the energetic gnome found himself panting too much to go on.
As he re-entered the town, Abin glared at him angrily.
“Verm, you could’ve been killed!” he snapped.
“Naah,” Verm replied, waving his hand dismissively. “Death is something that happens to other people.”
“If we’re done for today, this is my stop,” Faergh announced as they approached a doorway.
“See you tomorrow, then?” Abin asked.
Faergh snorted, walked in, and slammed the door shut.
“Fun guy,” Verm announced, absentmindedly snatching an apple off a stall without being noticed, and taking a deep bite into it. “Hmmphed yerm mff hrm?”
“What?”
“How’d you meet him?”
“We were childhood friends,” Abin said slowly. He didn’t like thinking about…then. “I was shocked when I found out he lived here. I hadn’t heard from him in years.”
“Was he always this…” the Gnome thought of a good way to put it, “did he always have such a gyrating demudificationater up his ass?”
“No,” Abin said, scratching his chin. “He was reserved, like most elves, but…something has definitely changed him.”
They reached the door of their new house, Verm able to slide right under the door, Abin having to duck slightly.
An old gnomish couple was inside. The man sat at a couch, his wrinkled face reading a magazine. His white hair stood up on end, from years of contact with electricity.
Their mother was in the kitchen, stirring food around a pot over an open flame. She grinned at them when they entered, Abin banging his head on the kitchen doorway.
“Hello, kids,” she said cheerfully. “Enjoying the town?”
“Hi mom,” the human and gnome said in unison. Abin rubbed his head, flinching.
“You’ll never guess what happened!” Verm began excitedly. “There was a huge tauren and he attacked the town with a gun and he killed some guy by setting him on fire and I ran after him with the guards and we scared him off!”
“That’s nice, dear,” she said absentmindedly, stirring the indiscernible food around some more.
“We met an old friend of mine to see a play,” Abin added in, looking upwards nervously.
“That’s nice, dear.”
“Is it just me, or is this house smaller than our old one in Gnomeragon?” Abin asked, rubbing his back which was stiff from the crouching.
“I can’t tell, it’s still pretty big to me,” Verm said. “Hey dad, guess what!” he shouted as he ran into the next room, already beginning his story.
Abin sat down with a thud in the kitchen next to his stepmother. She smiled at him.
“I know it’s hard for you,” she said.
“Hard? Nah, I’m fine. I’ve probably just gotten taller.”
She walked over to him, being about as tall as him when she stood and he sat.
“No, I mean all of it. A human raised by gnomes. Doesn’t add up.”
“You’re my family. Nothing can ever change that, no matter how big I get or how small you get.” Abin smiled nervously, trying to stand again.
“I’ll have your father check out that doorway, try to make it bigger.”
“No!” Abin shouted, remembering the last time his stepfather had attempted to fix part of the house. It had taken weeks for his eyebrows to grow back. “I’m just gunna go upstairs to my room for a bit.”
“Alright. I’ll call you down when dinner is ready,” his mom said, smiling at him. That was one thing about gnomes. They never stopped smiling.
Abin half-walked, half-crawled upstairs to his new bedroom. His stuff was recently unpacked from their move. It had been less than a week since they had arrived here, after a month or so of traveling from the ruined Gnomeragon.
Most of the Gnomeragon refugees had just gone to Ironforge. But the he and his family, the Naard’s, wanted to try something new. They had heard Southshore was an exciting place for the bold and adventurous.
But, if Faergh was anyone to judge, perhaps bold and adventurous wasn’t always a good thing.
He flopped down in his bed, his feet hanging off the edge. He closed his eyes, preparing for sleep.
“Is that him? He doesn’t look like-”
“It is him! Trust me on this!”
“But he’s so…”
“Yes, I know. Bland. But it’s him.”
Abin bolted upright in bed, his eyes jolting around.
“Verm? That you?” he asked cautiously.
Suddenly a form appeared in front of him, that of a darkly dressed woman. She wore black leather, had long, pointed fingernails, and a cold face. Abin scrabbled backwards in his small room.
“Fear not, brother,” the new figure said. “I am a friend. My name is Ursula Deline.”
“How did you get in my room?” Abin asked.
“I am not actually here,” she continued. “Just an illusion. A projection. I reside in a secret area deep underneath the city of Stormwind.”
Beside her, a small, wrinkled gnome walked up. He had eccentric, fiery red hair, and peered at Abin with unnaturally wide eyes.
“You’re 100% positive he’s the one? There’s a guy over in Aerie Peak who looks much more-”
“Spackle! Silence!” the woman snapped.
“The one? What are you talking about? What do you want with me?” Abin asked, baffled.
“Tell me, Abin Naard,” the woman said, smiling devilishly, “how would you like to avenge your parents?”
Abin’s jaw dropped.
“Yes. I know about that. I know all about you. And I know that darkness lays within you.”
“I’m pretty sure…it doesn’t,” he refuted.
“No, no. It does.”
“Nope, no darkness here. Trust me.”
“See? I told you,” the gnome known as Spackle said proudly.
“Listen. Abin,” Ursula said through gritted teeth. “Your loved ones have died, and there are more deaths to come in your future. I can teach you the ways of the warlock, Abin. With them you can make a difference in this world.”
“I’m gunna have to agree with the gnome, you’ve got the wrong guy,” Abin said, trying to stand up. “Now please, let me go. I know nothing of magic, especially not dark magic. I am in fact completely unskilled in every way. I am of no use to you.”
“But that is what makes you of absolute use to us,” Ursula continued, refusing to let go. “I have a griffin waiting for you in town. In three days time it will leave, with or without you. If you choose not to come, you will never hear from me again. But I hope to see you soon.”
“Nice house you got here,” Spackle was saying, looking around, when the two disappeared.
Abin’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he lost conciousness.
A bit scattered, but promising. As you say, you're not quite sure where you're going with this, and it shows a bit. But there could be something here. I thought opening with the play was great. Threw me off for a second.
Thanks for the comments, guys. This part was written at more reasonable hours, so I hope you enjoy it.
Faergh slowly lowered himself into his fine silk couch. He had worked for years to buy a couch like this. It was his heart and soul, his pride and joy. This couch and it’s billowing folds of wonderfully caressing fabric meant more to him than life itself.
“Faergh! Get in here!” screamed a harsh, female voice.
“Kill me now,” Faergh pleaded to the couch. It didn’t respond. Sighing, he got up and walked into the next room.
“Yes, dear?” he said cautiously, edging around the corner into the room.
Sitting down at a table was a female night elf. Her face was painted white with two lightning bolts angling down on each cheek. She had short, well-trimmed hair tied into small ponytail in the back. She had a body many men would kill for, but a face that showed she might kill the men first.
Faergh sat down across from her.
“Where have you been?” she asked coldly.
“Out with an old friend,” Faergh mumbled almost inaudibly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I figured-”
“Oh, you FIGURED! Do you have any idea what day it is?” she snapped.
“Judging by the tone of your voice, I’m going to go with your birthday, our anniversary, or both.” Faergh put his head into his hands. Horde be damned, this woman would be the death of him.
“No. It’s my uncle’s birthday! We were going to go to his party, remember? But because of you, we’re late!”
“Ohh…that,” Faergh said, smiling nervously. He waved his hand in the air, chuckling. “I knew about that. I was out with my friend buying his gift. I thought it was a surprise party, though, so I asked my friend to hold it until we’re ready.”
He gave her a pleading grin. She stared him down, obviously not believing a word of it.
“Men,” she scoffed. She turned away, and Faergh knew this mean he could leave – rather, should leave if he knew what was good for him.
He had been dating Allana for several months now. She could be a real sweetheart at times, but…she had a real fiery anger over the slightest things. Like leaving doors open, or breathing incorrectly.
He was determined he would break up with her one day soon. But first he would have to buy some plate armor, specifically for the groin-area.
As he scurried down the street, he debated with himself where to go. He thought about heading back to Abin’s house, but realized that his old friend had no idea about Allana and he didn’t feel like explaining that he was hiding in fear from his girlfriend.
He turned a street corner and headed towards the house of the dwarf Celestes. He knocked hesitantly on the door. After a few moments, it opened, revealing a weathered old dwarf. He had a long gray beard and mustache combination that covered his heavily wrinkled face. The hair on his head was short and thin. He smiled up at the elf, gesturing inside.
“Thank you, old one,” Faergh said, bowing slightly as he entered.
“Faergh Dynlegard,” Celestes said, scratching his beard. “What brings yeh to m’ door?”
“I need some advice.”
“What on, lad? Fighting?”
“Women.”
“Ah. That kind of fighting.”
Celestes was considered by all who knew him to be a wise, friendly, grandfatherly figure. He was very old, older than anyone he knew. And he constantly had advice to give with a smile on his wrinkled face. He was a close personal friend of the Naard family and their friends, including Faergh. He had moved to Southshore with the gnomes and Abin, and was also pleasantly surprised to find Faergh here.
“It’s my girlfriend, Allana. She controls my life. I…have to get rid of her, but I can’t. What should I do?” the night elf asked.
“That’s one of the trickier questions in life,” Celestes said, still smiling. Unlike Verm, his constant smile was not one of oblivious bliss. It was a half-sad smile of one who knows the horrors of the world but appreciates life’s goodness all the better because of this.
“Can you help me?” Faergh persisted.
“I dinnae know if I can,” the dwarf explained. “Love is a subject that kinnae take outside interference. Yeh have to know based on yeh heart what to do. The subject kinnae be approached wit’ logic.”
“I see,” Faergh said. He pondered this for a moment longer. “Then I must confront Allana myself. I will tell her how I feel, and…work from there.”
“Good to hear, lad,” Celestes said, nodding. He looked up, startled, as his door burst open again. Abin walked in, panting.
“Oh…Faergh,” he said, a tad dazed. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here. I came to talk to Celestes.”
“I’ll leave you be, then,” the night elf said as he began to walk off.
“No no, that’s fine,” Abin insisted. “I just…just had a weird dream, is all.”
Abin looked at Faergh. He would tell Celestes anything, but…this was a new Faergh. A Faergh he didn’t know, not like the old one. And he just didn’t feel he could trust to tell him that he had just been contacted to join a group of warlocks.
“It was about…chickens,” Abin said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. He paused. Chickens?
“Chickens?” Celestes repeated, scratching his beard.
“Yes, they, um…spoke to me.”
“In common or their chicken-speak?” Faergh piped in sarcastically.
“Um, common. Um,” Abin wiped some sweat from his forehead.
“Don’t know what t’ make o’ that one,” Celestes said, shrugging. “Yeh eat anythin’ funneh aforehand?”
“Yeah. Chocolate, um, pizza.”
“Might wanna lay offa that, lad…”
Faergh gave a haughty laugh.
“Well, good luck with those chickens, Abin. I’m gunna go find Allana and tell her what’s what!” Taking in a deep breath, Faergh stepped forwards. Then he paused. Shaking his head, he took another step forwards. He paused one last time, gulped, then managed to make it out the door.
“What’s his problem?” Abin asked.
“Women,” Celestes explaind.
“Ah,” Abin said. “Never dealt with women before.”
“Yer still young,” Celestes shrugged.
“I’m 28,” Abin said, sitting down. “And look what I’ve accomplished with my life. Nothing. If I were to die tomorrow, five people would notice. That’s it.”
“Now now, lad,” the old dwarf soothed, sitting down next to him. “Tha’s not true. People tend ta make more of an impact in this world than they notice.”
“I feel like I could do more, though.” Abin sighed. “I was offered a job.”
“Oh? Well there ya go!” Celestes cheered, patting him on the back. “What’s the job fer?”
“Demonic arts and black magic,” Abin explained, his face torn with agony.
“Ah…” Celestes paused. “This might even be trickier than women. Did yeh accept?”
“No!” Abin snapped. “They said I had a darkness within me…that there will be more deaths in my future, and they can teach me how to defend the ones I love…”
“And…?” Celestes prompted.
“And that’s exactly what I want with my life. But not like this!”
“I’ve no love for warlocks and their kind,” Celestes nodded. “But…p’raps you might learn something from them.”
“What!?” Abin gasped. “Are you suggesting I fly to Stormwind to become a warlock?”
“Become a warlock…maybe not. But I imagine they intend to teach you something. Perhaps you can learn to defend your loved ones…with your own unique twist.”
“I see…” Abin shrugged. “I have three days. I’ll mull it over.”
“Aye, lad,” said Celestes. “Know that, no matter what, yer destiny is in yer own hands.”
“Gunna show her…I’m the man of this relationship…I can do this,” Faergh muttered to himself. But his voice was rapidly losing confidence. “This is what my heart feels is right…I must do this to help myself be happy.”
“Hey! Faergh!” called a voice after him. Turning, Faergh saw Verm running up to him. The little gnome was waving wildly. “Hi, Faergh!”
“Verm,” Faergh nodded half-heartedly.
“How are you? What’s up? Where are ya going?” Verm asked in one incessant stream.
Faergh prepared to snap at the gnome, sending him on his way. Than he got an idea. A terribly insane idea.
“I was looking for you,” the night elf replied. He grit his teeth, and pushed forwards. “I feel we hardly know eachother. What do you say we…hang out today?”
“Wow! Really! I knew you were a nice guy, Faergh! Let’s go exploring! You could show me all the cool places all around Hillsbrad! It’ll be fun and we’ll be best friends and-”
“Yes!” Faergh shouted, cutting him off. “Yes. Absolutely. All of that. Let’s head off, shall we?”
I’m a wuss, he said to himself in the sanctity of his own mind. No, I’ll get around to talking to her…it’s just nice of me to hang out with the poor gnome…they must not have many friends…
His mind wandered to Abin. Raised by gnomes nearly all his life. Ever since his parents had been murdered.
“I know! Let’s go to the beach!” Verm piped in.
“The beach…hmm…” Faergh shook his head. “It’s dangerous out there. We might run into Horde fishing or hunting, or just looking to start mischief.”
“Wow, you really think so? Awesome! Let’s go!”
“No, wait…” Faergh restrained a scream. The happy gnome went bounding off, out of the city gates. As much as he wanted to, Faergh couldn’t just let the gnome run off and get himself killed. It looked as if Verm was his responsibility at the moment.
“Why me?”
Faergh ran off after Verm.
“Hey! Wait up!” the old night elf called. He was only in his early hundreds, a relatively young age for night elves, but he didn’t have nearly the vigor or stamina to keep up with the running gnome.
“Come on, Faergh! Ya ol’ slow poke!” Verm teased. Faergh scowled at him.
“How old are you?” Faergh panted. “That’s an impressive beard, but you act like a nine year old…no offense.”
“Oh, I’m 24,” Verm answered, smiling. “It’s a gnome thing. We’re always young at heart. Something you stiff old elves should try to learn from.”
“Hmmph…gnomes teaching elves...on that day, I will eat my hat. Well, first I’ll go out and buy a hat…then eat it.”
“Ok,” Verm nodded, half-listening. “Yeah, I’m Abin’s younger brother. He’s 28 or so. But no matter the age difference he’d always be my bigger brother. Heh. Get it?”
“Verm, where are we going?”
Faergh looked back. The safe haven of Southshore was shrinking back into the distance at an alarming rate. Verm seemed to be heading determinably towards the ocean.
“I really think we should get back in view of the city,” Faergh said.
“Come on, nonsense! No Horde would dare mess with the amazing Verm and Faergh! Eh?”
“I’m not amazing and nor are you. A Horde child could kill us both. They’re nasty and vicious. Ruthless. Merciless…”
“How do you know?” Verm asked. “Ever talked to one?”
Faergh shuddered. Weeks of his life…
“No,” he said firmly. “And I hope I never do.”
Abin left Celestes’ house shaking his head in wonderment. The old dwarf always managed to surprise him. Go to Stormwind…he actually recommended going to Stormwind!
“I’m sure Verm would like to go…he loves new places,” he said to himself, walking along the streets. “But mom and dad…Faergh…who knows how long I’d be gone?
No…I’ve got to go. If I let this opportunity slip out of my fingers, I’d never forgive myself. I’m 28 years old and I’ve done nothing worth remembering. It’s time for me to move on to something great. I have the capabilities…why would that woman lie?”
Suddenly alarms started going off, the same ones as earlier in the day. Guards started moving out towards the city walls. Abin sighed as a guard approached him.
“Another attack?” he asked.
“There might be. Our lookouts have spotted a group of Horde amassing on the beach near town. These aren’t fishermen, either. They’re armed for war.”
“Well,” Abin said to himself as the guard ran off, “no concern of mine…”
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