An Exile’s Tale

A few weeks ago, I submitted this story to the Path of Exile Talent Competition 2018. Last night, the list of the winners of the contest was published on the forums and I made it to the top 15.

Path of Exile is an amazing game, probably the best Hack’n Slash ever made and I am very happy to know that the folks at Grinding Gear Games enjoyed my story.

All over Wraeclast, you can hear the tales of Kaom, Piety and Malachai, but you’ll never hear anything about the fate of the exiles. Their victories aren’t sung, their deaths aren’t mourned, they weren’t sent here to be remembered. But this story is different, I don’t want to forget it. This is why I’m leaving this for anyone to read at the board of Lioneye’s watch, for this tale belongs to this town.

The night had fallen over Lioneye’s watch and the few exiles who had made it back before the dark were scattered along the walls, hiding themselves from the wind and the rain. Exiles don’t sleep in cosy inns, the cold and wet stones of the sanctuaries are their only beds. Some gather in small groups but most stay alone, haunted by the horror of their memories. A few hours had passed since the light was gone and the place was silent, only the wind could be heard. Even the traders were falling asleep… As for me, I haven’t had a normal night’s rest since I was sent to this cursed place. Everyday, I manage to rest a few hours, dreaming with my eyes open. My instincts don’t let me drift too far and I suspect that they won’t until I have completed my journey.

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The day we saved Christmas

What better time to tell a story than Christmas? It’s cold outside and cozy inside, we’re celebrating with our loved ones… But do we think about those who, secretly, work hard to make the magic happen? Well, this story is all about them.

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The night before he died

It had been a long day, completing quests and slaying demons all over the Broken Isles… I was near the Tomb of Sargeras when I finally decided to take a break. The night was about to fall and I would soon have to go back home.

The place, located near the wall of the unholy temple, wasn’t exactly cosy. The only spot to sit was a big flat rock. I first cleaned my face and my hands from the fel demon blood, then I tried to take place on my improvised chair. I wasn’t even leaning on it that it already moved. I got up to see if I could do something to keep it steady, when I saw some light coming from underneath. As I pushed the rock aside, I uncovered what appeared to be a secret hatch. I opened it and went down a ladder, I then walked through a long torch-lit tunnel. I was wondering if it would lead me to another treasure, just like those hidden all over the Isles…

As I finally reached the end of the tunnel, I started to climb another ladder, this one was much longer than the first and it felt like an eternity before I could finally see the end of it. After a last hatch, I emerged and finally noticed where I was: at the top of the Tomb of Sargeras.

The place was very silent, the only thing that I could hear was the heavy sobs of somebody crying. It didn’t take long before I could spot him. There he was, our great foe Kil’Jaeden, sitting on the floor, his face covered in tears.

I didn’t know what to do, so I cleared my voice and asked “Everything ok?”

He looked at me and didn’t even try to get up. He answered “What are you already doing here? Isn’t it tomorrow that your lot is planning to come and end me?!”

Caught off-guard, all I could answer was “I’m sorry but I’ve found your secret passage… I wasn’t sure where it was leading…”

I don’t know why I did what I did next… Maybe was it one of those moments when two dudes get closer, even if they’re not on the same side. I approached him and offered him a beer. He accepted it.

I sat beside him and listened to his story. The guy was filled with regrets. He knew that he had to pay for what he had done but something else was troubling him. He told me that the demons from his planet would continue coming to Azeroth, even after his death. He heard that Illidan had a stone that could open a rift to Argus… Unfortunately, it was a spoof, it wouldn’t do a thing.

He asked me if I would agree to help him and, eventhough I should have never trusted somebody like him, I told him that I would. Sharing a pint with a dude creates a bond… He handed me the remote control of a device that would activate a rift similar to the one they used to come to Azeroth. No one in his Legion wouldn’t accept to do such a thing and no enemy of his would trust him enough to do it.

We spent the rest of the evening sharing stories. He showed me pictures of his ex-girlfriend, Cecile. He explained me that hate often begins with a heartbreak.

He also told me about the less known side of the Legion, you wouldn’t believe the parties they were having…

At some point, the beer ran out (even I don’t carry more than a dozen bottles in my bags), we bid our farewells and I promised him that I would fulfill his last wish.

During my flight back home, I felt an inexplicable sadness. Today, I had made a friend out of an enemy, and, tomorrow, I would help killing him.

The next day, we marched upon the Tomb of Sargeras and, after an incredibly hard fight, the enemy died. As we were fighting Kil’Jaeden, many people were surprised to see empty beer bottles all over the place, I even saw Khadgar tripping over one. I guess that you don’t really care about keeping the place tidy when you know that you’re about to die…

As Kil’Jaeden predicted, Illidan used his stone and, while everyone was looking at him, I used the remote and activated the rift. It’s better if no one knows the truth, people need to believe in their heroes.

Since that moment, Argus can be seen in the sky from anywhere in Azeroth. To me, it’s a reminder that no matter how hard you fight, it’s around a fresh beer that things really get settled.

Azeroth Safari: Eastern Kingdoms

Questing in the Broken Isles without flying reminded me of those old times, when flying in the Eastern Kingdoms and Kalimdor wasn’t even possible. I remember that both zones were so huge that having to travel without Flightmaster, Zeppelin or Ship required a lot of time. A few weeks ago, I took my hunter out for a little test: let’s cross the entire Eastern Kingdoms with a ground mount (no flying!), passing through each zone and capital city.

Something I’ve learned out of this experience is that I completely forgot that not every zone has a path that leads to the next one. Sometimes you have to return to the previous zone to be able to travel to another.

Anyways, my adventure started North, in Silvermoon City, traveling all the way down to Stranglethorn Vale… I barely go to Silvermoon City, there is no special reason for that. Maybe is it its misfortunate location or the fact that I always get lost overthere, but I don’t really feel attracted to the Blood Elven Capital.

Upon my arrival, I noticed the red carpet and couldn’t stop but think: oh guys, you shouldn’t have…

From Silvermoon City, I traveled instantly to the gloomy Ghostlands. A beautiful and eerie forest that I remember keenly from when I leveled my hunter. Next on my path was Eastern Plaguelands… I passed through the entire zone before reaching Light’s Hope Chapel. A bit too Alliance for my taste so, I quickly moved on to the Western Plaguelands.

Once I arrived in Andorhal, I visited the local Inn. I cannot recommend this place cause that crazy Undead Innkeeper likes to do weird rituals that, in his opinion, are completely harmless. Don’t believe him, he’s a madman! After my successful escape I ended up in Tirisfal Glades

I quickly payed my respects to our new Warchief in Brill. I don’t know if she likes flowers though… maybe she would have prefered a human sacrifice but hey, we’re in Tirisfall Glades, all I could find were scruffy looking dead things… After that I headed for Silverpine Forest, passing through Undercity.

I love Silverpine Forest and it’s magnificent trees, not to mention the pumpkin patches! It makes me dream about my favourite season of the year: Autumn and Halloween… I’m already counting down to the most wonderful time of the year. While wandering around like a tourist, I spotted the beautiful Ruins of Gilneas in the distance…

Well, all I can say is this: not so friendly these Worgen. Wolves make excellent pets and when I tried to tame one of them, he started poking me with something that resembled a toothpick. What a waste… So, on I went, passing back for a bit through Gilneas and Silverpine to get to Hillsbrad Foothills, followed by the Hinterlands. Here is where I made my first mistake. I had completely forgotten about the fact that you can’t pass from each zone to another. This is exactly what happened here: I couldn’t find a path that lead from Hinterlands to Arathi Highlands so, I had to run the entire way back to Hillsbrad to be able to go to Ararthi.

While getting lost, I stumbled upon this cranky Dwarf with red glowing eyes. We shared a few jokes (mainly about exploding the wrong things) and ended up exchanging Engineering recipes for dynamite and fireworks. I asked him to join me on my trip, but he declined politely so, off I went to the Wetlands.

It was easy to go from the Wetlands to the Twighlight Highlands. Since I’ve never done any Archeology in Cataclysm, I thought it was about time to do something about that. So, I started digging up some fossils before my departure to Loch Modan. Once again I had to first go back to the Wetlands to be able to travel to Loch Modan. From there I passed through the South Gate Pass to go to Dun Morogh.

I had looked forward to the moment to sample some of those famous Dwarven Ales. Unfortunately, the Guards at the main gate of Ironforge seemed to be pretty on the defense when it came to sharing their brews. They sapped me and started poking me before I could unmount. Well, I guess I could see that one coming. After all, they’re Alliance… After I one-shotted them, I left this unwelcoming place.

Next on the map was Vashj’ir… it quickly proved impossible to get there with my Waterstrider as I died due to “fatigue” on every attempt.

So, I went back to Loch Modan to go to the Searing Gorge. From there I passed through Blackrock Spire to go to the Burning Steppes, followed by the Redridge Mountains, Elwynn Forest (Goldshire and Stormwind) and Westfall.

When I wanted to go and admire the pumpkin patches in Westfall, I noticed these huge walking scarecrows that haunt their grounds. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that there were no pumpkins… these abominations probably trampled them all. I wonder what kind of idiot came up with the creation of these stuffed machines. I could probably teach him a lesson or two about Engineering.

From Westfall, I could easily travel through Duskwood and the Deadwind Pass, to arrive shortly after in the Swamp of Sorrows.

Upon my arrival in the Swamp of Sorrows, I met up with the local Wind Rider Master, Breyk. I tried to explain him that he shouldn’t wave around with his spear like that when he talks, after all, it’s not a toothpick. But, he wouldn’t listen so, I gave up and left for the Blasted Lands. From there, I couldn’t find a road leading to Stranglethorn Vale so, I had to head back to Duskwood to reach this Goblin infested place.

Like they say: where there are Goblins, there are treasures. I had stumbled upon a big one, but from the look of the skeletons, it seemed to be cursed. So, I’ve left it where I’ve found it. Knowing these Goblins, you never know where these trinkets and coins have been. And… that’s where my journey ends.

While writing this post and checking the map of the Eastern Kingdoms, I realized that I’ve completely forgotten the Badlands. I don’t know how I could have, but I did… too bad ;p The entire traject, with stops for screenshots and running back and forth for finding rideable paths included, took a bit over two hours in total. Two hours of pure nostalgia. I definitely should go back more often!

A taming story

As requested by Alunaria, we’re about to tell you one of our taming adventures. Take a seat and turn on your second degree because the story that follows is filled with danger and heroism, but it also may or may not have happened exactly the way we tell it.

Gamrok

Most people know me for my natural charm and my magnificent muscled body. But what trully makes me the awesome Orc that I am, comes from my courage, my intelligence and my exceptional strength.
When, like me, you’re a natural hero, the challenges of the normal life may not be enough. I mean, come on, any hero already rescued Azeroth several times, it became trivial to me.

One of the reasons why I became a hunter is to tame beasts. What possibly could be more challenging then facing fierce creatures without your weapons, as equals?

Today, my thirst for danger is leading me to the Eye of Azshara. I’ve obtained from a very reliable source that a fierce beast, half lion half hawk, has made its lair on the southern part of the island.

I first carefully prepare my backpack with all the necessary equipment. You see, the secret of a sucessful taming trip lies within the preparation. After having double checked everything, I sneak out of the hut. Sisqi, as usual, is still asleep… I jump on the back of my mount, direction The Broken Isles.

I land close to the entry of the cave. From now on, I must be extra careful, any wrong move could lead me to my death. The challenge has begon and my instincts have kicked in. I check the direction of the wind and I mask my scent, I don’t want the beast to detect my presence. I walk close to the walls, very slowly, almost motionless.

I see the animal and I realise that it’s probably the most dangerous one I’ve ever faced. I keep in the shadow, watching its every move. The plan is forming in my head, I’ll have to jump on it from above and maintain it to the ground. If I give it a chance to open its gigantic wings, I’ll be dead under its sharp talons.

The time for action has come and jump as high as I can. I’m probably ten meters above the ground when I let myself fall on the beast’s back. I try to keep away from its head, I don’t want to give it the opportunity to bite me. The beast is angry and tries to turn, but I manage to stay on top. Unfortunately, I slip on the feathers. Even if I quickly manage to get back in position, the creature is fast and it has the time to bite my left boot. I feel the pain and the warm blood leaking off my foot but I don’t have the time to think about it. I mentally supress the pain and double the strenght of my grip.

After what felt like hours, the beast starts to tire and, suddenly, it gives up. I roll on the floor and I take a few minutes to recover. When I finally get back up, all I can see in its eyes is respect. That beast will follow me anywhere and it will defend me until its last breath. A bond has been created.

After limping back to my Wind Rider, I head back home. Tonight I’ll celebrate another victory and I will probably be the admiration of the entire Durotar.

Sisqi

As usual, when Gamrok finally decides to get out of bed, half the day has already passed… It’s been pretty quiet lately and that is what scares me the most. No hut on fire, no broken bones and no jailtime yet… Or my man is finally calming down, or the next catastrophy is about to happen. Knowing him, I would bet on the latter.

After the breakfast, I see him gathering a few things from around the place. He’s still very silent, he only had his third cup of coffee. When he’s not watching, I quickly check the content of his bag: A bottle of Dwarven Ale, a piece of stinky cheese and a steamy romance novel. Oh my, it must be quiet the expedition he’s up to. When I ask him what his plans for the day are, he answers “Listen, pumpkin pie, there are times when an Orc has to be alone. What I’m about to do requires extreme concentration. Not only would it be dangerous for you, but you would risk to put us both in danger. That’s why you’ll have to wait for me. But don’t be afraid, I’ll be very careful. You know me.” That’s usually when I start to panic.

He explains me that someone very reliable gave him a map to a secret cave where a fierce creature has made its lair. He’s gonna head there and tame the beast.
A reliable source, huh?! It seems like he’s been hanging with Marcel again… I’d better add some real equipment to his backpack, I don’t think that sharing a pic-nic or reading a naughty Tauren novel is a very good way to harness a dangerous beast.

I also quickly checked that secret map of his, I’m not gonna let him throw himself in I don’t know what crazy plan that local drunk, Marcel, has put in his head this time.

After a rather long flight, I land not too far from Gamrok’s landing location. As I suspected, his preparation consists mostly in drinking his beer and taking a nap. When, finally, he decides that the time has come for some action, I follow him to the cave.
You would think that anyone willing to tame a dangerous beast would try to keep his scent masked and be as silent as possible. Well, if walking with a piece of dalaran blue in your hand as only equipment means being prepared, then Gamrok was as prepared as he could be.

What follows is suitable for the faint of heart, because no blood was shed and no violence whatsoever happened in that cave. Gamrok simply walked in as he would enter any bar from town, and walked to the creature as if they were friends from way back.
The one thing that you must know about my man, is that beasts love him. I don’t know if it’s because of his charisma or the smell of his feet but, where most adventurers would be shred to pieces, all Gamrok gets is furry balls of affection, a few good licks and a ton of drool. It didn’t take long for the beast to even start chewing on his boot, letting his big toe come out. Another pair of boots ruined by a very “dangerous” taming adventure.

I think it’s safe to say that no harm will come in his way today. I silently backtracked to my mount and headed back to the village where my man would join me triomphant this evening. My man, the hero.

A day in the life of your toon

We stumbled upon a few bloggers doing this challenge from Z & Cinder, and it got us thinking about what a day in the life of Sisqi and Gamrok would be like.

Gamrok’s day

Just like everyday, I don’t wait for the sun to rise, I get up and I do my exercises: one thousand push-ups (on one hand) and 5 rounds of Orgrimmar, I don’t even break a sweat. What did you think, that I had these fabulous muscles for free, it takes a lot of work, you know?!

Then, I go to the market to buy some groceries. My awesome new tattoos don’t go unnoticed, a group of young nymphets scream when they see me, but I’m used to it and I don’t even look at them.

I get back to our home and I do the chores. I try to remain as silent as I can, I wouldn’t want to wake up Sisqi who’s still dreaming (probably of me).
I know that I spoil her, my friends don’t even know how to cook or how to clean. But she deserves the best, and I think we can safely say that this is exactly what she gets.

After having prepared her breakfast, I write a little note to my pumpkin pie. I let her know that I’ll be spending the day honoring the flame at the bonfire of Suramar. My old friend Marcel, probably the holiest guy I’ve ever known, has been asked to take care of it. I’ll be back before dawn.

I then take a windrider to Meredil and meet my old buddy. Very respectfully, we share a drink and memories of the past.

At that moment, I notice a young Night Elf girl approaching silently, a bucket in her hand. She thinks that she goes unnoticed, but nothing escapes my keen eyes. I also see three Suramar guards closing in on her, but she’s so focused on not spilling the water, that she pays no attention to them.

Horde or Alliance, it doesn’t matter to me. You see, I’m made of pure hero material, I can’t let a lady get in trouble. It’s a good occasion to practice my blind shooting, so I fire a shot over my shoulder, using only my hearing, not my sight. As expected, the bullet kills all three guards at once.

I walk to to the poor thing, she’s still shaking, but I sense that it isn’t out of fear anymore. I understand what’s going on… Like so many before her, she’s falling for my natural charm. Eventhough I can’t understand her language, I know that she’s probably offering herself to me. And, just like so many before her, I respectfully decline. You see, this magnificent Orc is already taken. I could get her name though… Alunaria. Well, little elf, your name will be on the list of my broken hearts.

An hour later, guess who decides to show up. Yep, Sisqi finally got out of bed. She missed the action, but I feel better knowing that she was safe.

Sisqi’s day

It’s eleven in the morning, and I’ve already done so much. The shopping is done and the dinner is ready for this evening. Gamrok, as usual, is still sleeping. He snores so loud that the cuttlery on the table is moving on its own.

I’d say that I do the chores silently, but honestly nothing could wake this slumbering Orc, only the smell of his coffee. It’s nearly noon when he finally decides to show up. He drinks what he calls his morning cup of Joe, I call it a bucket. Before I realise, he’s already gone and he has left me an almost unreadable note: Marcel – Bonfire – Suramar. My man, the poet.

I’d better go there myself, you have no idea what these two are capable of. Let me describe you the famous best friend of my husband: You already knew green Orcs and brown Orcs, but you propably didn’t know about red Orcs. Well, to my knowledge, there is only one. Marcel drinks so much that he’s permanently red-faced and his nose is deformed by the thousands (millions?) of beers he drank in his life. I don’t think that I’d hurt his feelings by calling him “the local town drunk”, he’d probably take it as a compliment.

While I love my man, I also know that he is not a saint. These two together is the perfect recipe for disaster. If we would want to get rid of the Legion, we’d just have to send these two with a few bottles of beer. Few are those who could survive it. Fortunately, I’m one of them. That’s why I’m heading to Meredil.

My mount hasn’t landed yet, but I can already hear their laughter. As I approach the place where the flame is located, I almost trip over the empty bottles they’ve left behind.
Here it is, the mighty scene of Gamrok and Marcel “honoring” the flame. They can’t even stand anymore, so drunk they are. All they can do is singing songs that would violate the most sinful ears. This bonfire has to be the most unholy in the entire festival.

Not far from them, I notice a young Night Elf approaching the fire to extinguish it. She didn’t notice the three Suramar guards closing in on her. I can’t expect my two heroes to do anything. In the state that they are, they probably can’t see anything anymore.

As I start to run, I ready my bow. My arrows reach their aim almost before my wolf could take care of the hostiles. The Night Elf says something, but I don’t understand her language. However, I can see that she’s grateful. She drops her bucket as a way to say that she won’t desecrate this fire.

I pick up the bucket and spill its entire content on Gamrok, who can barely stand. I drop him on the back of my mount and bring him back home, where he falls in a deep coma, until the next day…

The day we saved Navimie

Razor Hill's Inn

A few weeks ago, Navimie visited our old blogs and suggested that we should write a joined one. Her idea made its way and that’s how The Brutes is born. To thank her for inspiring the creation of our new home, we have written a story in which she is featured.

As usual, it is filled with a large dose of (dubious) sense of humor and a pinch of ego-centrism. And now, off with the show:

Gamrok’s tale

I am awesome. Seriously, I kick bullies’asses and Women fall in love with me, if that doesn’t match your definition of awesomeness, think again! Now that this is out of the way, let’s get going with the events that led me to save Navimie.

I was at the Razor Hill’s Inn with Sisqi after a week wandering aimlessly and broke in Durotar living amazing adventures. We were getting smashed on cheap ale eating a delicious meal in this rather modest place when it all started.

There wasn’t many people that day, just us, a couple of Trolls sitting at the next table, a drunken Orc and a lady Tauren drinking at the bar. The Orc was apparently expressing his miscontempt about all that was crossing his mind, from the taste of the beer to the fact that people weren’t grateful enough to Garrosh for all he was doing for the Horde.

It started like the soft mumbling of a drunken man, but it quickly became a shout adressed to the whole room. It was working on my nerves. He went on about the other races and how he thought that they should be reminded of who were the real rulers of Azeroth. He was still as loud but, this time, his speech was directed to the first person he could find, the Tauren druid sitting a few meters away from him.

She didn’t seem too much interested in what he had to say, but he clearly was searching for an excuse to start a fight.
Don’t mind me saying this but, while druids are amazing with their love for the nature and all that, they have this habit to grow a culture of mushrooms when they feel threatened… Not very useful when dealing with a giant orc and his two-handed axe.

This is where I came in. You see, I don’t like bullies, even less when they lack respect to a lonely woman. Sisqi, still busy eating her roasted beast, understood by the look in my eyes that things were about to be dealt with.

I got up and started to walk toward the bar when one of the Trolls sitting in front of us tried to stop me. He told me that the Orc was Malkorok, the leader of the Kor’kron and that I’d better leave him alone. I told him “I don’t know bullies by their names, but they always end up knowing mine!”.

I had almost reached Marlborok or whatever his name was when he jumped out of his seat and yelled something at me. I didn’t really understood what he said, his breath was too horrible. When he tried to swing his axe at me, I grabbed his arm and twisted it until his weapon dropped. I twisted a bit more and he apologized to the Tauren. Then, with a single kick of my right boot, I sent him flying through the Inn back to the dirt where he came from. He didn’t dare to come back, probably too afraid…

The tauren was speechless, the poor thing was in shock. Who wouldn’t be, she’d just been rescued by Gamrok, the sexiest Orc in Azeroth. She told me something that sounded like “navy me”. It probably meant “kiss me” in her language, but I wasn’t going to “navy” anyone. You see, this fine piece of Orc is already taken. I saw the flame in her eyes but I had to break her heart. I think she understood, because she kept it clean, no tears or anything. After all she would have a fine tale to tell her grand-kids, someday…

I went back to my table and winked at Sisqi. She could go on to eat at her ease, the disturbance was over.

Sisqi’s tale

The tale of Gamrok is true… Well, at least, some part of it. We were indeed at the Razor Hill’s inn that day, and there was indeed a drunken Orc at the bar. Now, for the rest, let me tell you what really happened.

I was devouring eating my roasted boar, the truth is that we didn’t eat for, at least, two hours a day and a half. Our little escort business didn’t have much success at that time, especially since Kor’kron guards were posted everywhere in Durotar. I could say that we were enjoying our meal in this rather modest establishment but the truth is that we didn’t have enough gold to afford anything better than this dump, its warm flat beer and its funky tasting “boar”.

If there is one thing I hate even more than not eating is to be disturbed while eating. The only thing we could hear at the Inn that day was the drunken Orc trying to pick a fight with the lady Tauren sitting right next to him. But if you think that I am a hot blooded Orc, you don’t know how fast Gamrok reacts when an opportunity to satisfy his ego appears to him.

Before I could realise it, he was up and walking toward the bar. The other Orc was drunk but he was also colossal, way taller and wider than Gammy. A troll who was just trying to mind his own business, tried to warn him but Gamrok gave him his most condescendant best smile, the one that means “don’t worry little fella, I have everything under control”.

What followed happended very fast. I tried to stop him, but it was already too late. The Orc had jumped out of his chair and was on Gammy before he could dodge a punch that would stop a Kodo in the middle of his charge. Gamrok was lying face down on the floor, but I could take advantage of the diversion to break the heaviest pint I could find on the back of the Orc’s head. Drunk like he was, it didn’t take more than that to put him to sleep.

That’s when Gamrok finally decided to wake up from his little nap and to drag an unconscious Malkorok out of the Inn. When he came back, he tried to charm the lady Tauren but, as usual, it didn’t work well but, this time, it wasn’t really his fault. We couldn’t really make anything out of the sounds coming from his mouth, his jaw was probably broken.

The Tauren looked at me, made a smile and told me her name was Navimie and that she was very grateful for the help.

We walked back to our table where I could finally finish my meal, and Gamrok could end up this story the way he always ends up all stories, with a half keg and a big nap.

Prologue

Malkorok came back to the pub a few days later and blew it up with a frag grenade. People thought that it was to kill two high-ranked Forsaken and Blood-elf officers. But we know now that he came back to wash an honnor he never had to begin with.

The Haunting in Elwynn Forest

It was a beautiful autumn morning. I was crossing Elwynn forest to gank low levels try my new chopper. Everything was back to normal, Garrosh was about to be sentenced for the crimes he had committed, the inns were full of rumors about everything and nothing and I was wonderful again, riding my bike like the awesome wild Orc that I am.

I had heard a disturbing story at the tavern last night, while I was getting tanked on cheap ale eating but I didn’t pay much attention. It is said that some human mage is wandering the forest, ambushing males of all races and taking advantage of them. But you know how drunken folks are, they would tell the most bizarre stories just to get some attention.

Awesome the way I am, I really wouldn’t need to get caught by some crazy lady just to get laid. After all, they don’t call me “the sexiest Orc in Azeroth” for nothing. I just happen to be a bit in a low point at the moment. Nothing to worry about.

Anyway, there I was, riding in Elwynn forest when suddenly, she appeared. I couldn’t believe my eyes, it was her, the lady mage. Not any lady mage, it was Jaina Proudmoore!

Before I could realize what was happening, she had already casted a frost bolt at my engine. My hog was frozen on spot, I couldn’t escape. All I could do was looking at her, walking in my direction, with fire in her eyes.

Not that I’d ever be scared of a lady… Only this one isn’t an ordinary lady. You see, since Garrosh has dropped a bomb on her home town, people say that she has gone bamboozle. No wonder that if she could put her hands on such an awesome specimen as myself, she would get even more crazy and who knows what she’d do to my body.

I couldn’t let that happen, I had to try something. I threw a frost trap on her path. All hypnotized by my sex-appeal that she was, she didn’t seem to notice it, she walked right on it. Even if it didn’t have much effect on her, it was enough to break her focus, giving me the time to jump off my chopper and cast my camel. I rode as if Ragnaros himself was after me, I didn’t look back.

It took me several kegs days to recuperate. Even weeks later, she still haunts my nights.

So, no matter how desperate fearless you are, if you value your dignity, stay away from Elwynn Forest for it is haunted by a once proud woman, turned into a psychopathic nymphomaniac.