13 June 2013

The Leatherworkers [Tier 8]

“You really don’t need to do that,” the tauren insisted, hovering helplessly while the orc changed and re-fluffed his sleeping pallet.

“Nonsense,” she told him matter-of-factly, giving the pallet a satisfied pat. “Whenever you go to a new place, if you do nothing else you should at least set up a place to sleep.”

Rolling his eyes in defeat, he watched her bustle around the room, giving it a final once-over for anything useful she could do. Finally, she came to stand before him, grinning cheekily at his long-suffering expression.

“I’m not an invalid anymore, you know. Besides, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve been injured on the job,” he joked. When the orc’s expression became pinched, he immediately regretted his words.

Lips pulled in tightly, she lifted her chin, managing to look down her nose at him despite the height difference. “Just because it’s happened before doesn’t mean it gets any easier.”

“Er,” he muttered apologetically, ears fluttering against his skull. “Sorry. I know that. It’s not exactly a party for me, either.”

Satisfied at his contrite pout, she headed for the door. “I gotta get to work. It’s not like I have any excuse to be missing time.” She gently punched his shoulder. “Looking forward to seeing you back in your usual spot tomorrow,” she said.

He smiled. “Me, too. Try not to kill anyone at work today.”

With a smirk, she closed the door behind her, leaving the tauren to his dusty quarters. Although the druids who had cared for him had determined him fit to go back to living unassisted a week ago, the orc had insisted he stay with her until he was ready to go back to work. Finally, she had agreed to escort him back to his long-neglected apartment.

He poked at the few possessions he had kept with him throughout the ordeal, intending to put his things back in order. From the bundle the orc had brought with them (she had refused to let him carry it, to his amused embarrassment), he began to remove the efficiently-packed contents. First was the gear he had been wearing when injured, now cleaned and repaired to the orc’s exacting standards. Following that were the handful of shirts and trousers she had fetched for his stay in her quarters. And finally, earning a surprised laugh from him, was the collection of tauren children’s stories that the orc had picked up Earthmother-knows-where.

Smiling to himself, the tauren began to slowly put his quarters back to rights. While he worked, he mulled over the weeks to come. After intensive rehabilitation, he was much closer to his original strength and speed, although it would still take more training and drills to get back to his best fighting ability. Hopefully he would be declared ready sooner rather than later; as much as he appreciated the orc’s attentiveness, he was eager to return to the easy banter they had when on the job.

***

“I’ve gotta say, this is one of the more relaxing gigs we’ve done in a while.” The orc stood casually, surveying the grassy plateau stretching out from the rocky overhang where they took shelter.

Thunder rolled overhead, providing a percussive background to the constant hum of rain. Despite the location, they were warm enough in the wet. Once again, the tauren gave silent thanks for the unusual climate of Sholazar Basin.

The pair watched as a streak of lightning arced through the air, charring the earth and leaving behind a tiny, glinting shard.

The orc strode out into the rain, habitually adjusting her gloves in preparation to collect the sizzling shard. The tauren followed close behind, eyes roving constantly over the quiet field for signs of any stray elementals on the plateau. Although the elementals were erratic in their movement, they sometimes made their way up to this secluded field where most of the star shards fell.

With a practiced ease, the orc scooped the glimmering, hissing shard into a padded rubber bag, where it fizzled harmlessly, awaiting shaping in their workshop. The metal would remain white-hot until the final quenching, after which it would be affixed to a delicate circlet. The orc had expressed her displeasure at the final design, arguing that the druids diving into the thick of battle would need something more durable for headgear, but the tauren remained a staunch advocate of the dainty crown. He had even tried the finished product on once or twice – when the orc wasn’t around, of course.

They retreated to the overhang to await another lightning strike. “This is almost like a vacation,” the orc mused. “Not that I’ll turn down the hazard pay, of course.”

“We’ve still got a few days to go before we meet our quota,” the tauren responded. “We might see some interesting action before the end!”

The orc sighed wistfully. “Yeah…at least the potential for that beats sitting around in the workshop for another month. I was beginning to think we had fallen out of favor with the druids for a while there.”

Another bolt of lightning lanced down into the earth nearby. Grinning triumphantly at the tauren, the orc once again stepped into the rain, making her way towards the pitted earth where another star shard waited, smoldering.

This time, the tauren noticed a crackling aura making its way up to the edge of the plateau. The elemental  hadn’t noticed them yet, but he knew it would likely be very cranky when it did. “Heads up,” he called to the orc, hefting his mace and putting himself between her and their foe.

“Yep,” the orc replied, tying the bag to her belt and raising her axe in preparation.

By now the elemental had taken notice of the strange fleshy creatures invading its territory. It gave a gusty shriek and unleashed a tiny whirlwind that zipped across the space between them, driving rain into their eyes and whipping mud into a clinging sludge around their feet.

It followed its attack by charging at them. The tauren went to meet it, ensuring that he would be the first to engage.

As its body was made primarily of mist, the tauren would have to be very precise in his strikes to hit the energized rock fragments that made up the only substantial part of its torso. He swung his mace, hoping that even with his relatively slow swings he could make the one powerful hit necessary to take out the revenant. His first swing missed, and he ducked down to follow the mace as the elemental slashed at where his head had been.

Against protocol, the orc circled around behind the revenant to add her own attacks. Not only was she supposed to leave the main defense to him, but she was also potentially in the way of his mace as well.

“Move!” the tauren shouted, not waiting before he swung his mace again, this time catching a chunk of the revenant’s body. It let out a shriek reminiscent of wind whistling through a small crevice and darted away, disappearing over the lip of the plateau.

The orc pushed back her hood and rubbed her gloved hand vigorously against the smooth skin of her head. “Hate those little pests!” she commented.

“Hate them all you want, but just remember that it’s my job to deal with them,” the tauren chastised sternly. When she opened her mouth to argue, he cut her off with, “I know your job is boring this time around, but you have to at least let me have priority when it comes to these guys. Otherwise I’m getting paid for nothing!”

They glared stubbornly at each other until the moment as disturbed by a low-pitched roar carried on a violent gust of wind. This was closely followed by the appearance of an enormous elemental making its way onto the plateau. It dwarfed the other revenants they had seen so far by two or three times, and appeared to be equally as incensed. When it noticed them, it let out another piercing cry and began to lumber towards them.

“Time to go,” the tauren remarked, scouting behind them for an escape route.

“It doesn’t look so bad,” the orc replied, stubbornly planting her feet and motioning as if to challenge it.

The tauren grabbed her bicep and propelled her in front of him. “You obviously didn’t read the dossier on the Terrace. Even if we could take that thing, the Oracles would be pretty upset if we killed one of their revered spirits.”

Sighing in resignation, the orc began to lope along beside the tauren. The revenant, upon seeing its quarry running away, responded by whipping up the storm. The swirling wind and pelting rain lowered visibility and turned the ground into a slippery swamp, slowing their progress. The orc stumbled, falling to one knee in the thickening mud. As he ran past, the tauren grabbed her elbow, using his height advantage to pull her to her feet. The bag of shards, stuck in the mud, gave a weak squelch and ripped from where it was tied to the orc’s belt.

Cursing, the orc turned to retrieve it, but the tauren shoved her ahead of him. “I’ve got it! You head for the path into the Maker’s Perch!”

She spared a glance at the revenant gaining on them before turning to obey. Sighing in relief, the tauren wrenched their precious cargo from the sticky clutches of the mud gathering around his ankles and took off after her.

The walls of the Maker’s Perch jumped up suddenly from within the curtain of rain. The orc immediately put her hands to the stone, searching for the tiny path they had found that led into the titan-engineered stronghold.

“Left, left,” the tauren instructed, glancing over his shoulder at the revenant. It vented its frustration by flicking a whip-like tendril of wind at him, snapping dangerously just short of his cheek.

“I got it!” the orc’s disembodied voice floated to him from within the jagged crack amidst the stones.

 “Don’t just stand there; get inside!” He made to follow, only to discover that the width of his shoulders was at odds with the parameters of the crevice.

“Come on!” the orc shouted from within, not yet realizing the problem. From without came another vicious crack of wind, this one catching him above the elbow and slicing neatly through armor and skin. The tauren grunted.

Having noticed the tauren’s halted progress, the orc rushed back to him, grabbing his wrist and tugging. He felt the stone scraping across his chest and back as his partner slowly but surely tugged him into the safety of the cave. Tucking his head to protect his horns, he dug in with his hooves, running in place and kicking up a spray of mud behind him.

The whirlwind outside was a roaring frenzy now, and he could feel rain and debris pattering against his still-exposed side. With a final panicked groan, the orc pulled with her entire bodyweight, bringing the tauren through the diminutive hole in the wall and into the wider cave beyond. He toppled forward, taking her down in the process. As they fell he twisted, so as to keep himself ready for any attack from the elemental outside.

Shrieking in frustration, the elemental predictably sent a final assault as its foe escaped, this time in the form of a crackling bolt of lightning. It struck the tauren square in the chest, knocking the breath out of him with an uncomfortable whoosh.

Still trapped beneath him, the orc began to shout in alarm, frantically struggling to free herself so she could assess the damage. Roaring in frustration, she finally managed to disentangle herself and reach for the tauren, cradling his head between her hands and scrutinizing his face.

“Are you all right?” she practically screamed, pulling on an eyelid to check his pupil.

He wheezed out a laugh, then hissed as something hot brushed against his finger. “I’m fine. It didn’t hit me.” He glanced down. “Well, not directly.”

Together they looked at the bag of star shards he had unwittingly held against his chest. The center was blackened where it had absorbed the full force of the lightning strike, and on top of that lay a perfect, glimmering star shard.

10 June 2013

For the Horde? [guest post!!]

Mengxi's letter caused a stir in the village. Having left to join the Horde only a few months ago, they hadn't heard from him since his arrival in Orgrimmar. Now everyone gathered to hear all about his adventures. In a loud, clear voice, the village Elder read from the tattered scroll...

As you know, I joined the Huojin when they declared their allegiance to the Horde. While I have met many brave, loyal and friendly people here, I am sorry to say that being a part of the Horde is not anything like I thought it would be. I am alive, where many are not, and that is the best of my situation, I fear.

The ceremony with the Horde leader, Garrosh Hellscream, was my first clue that what was ahead of me would not be pleasant. It is telling that the title for the Horde's leader is Warchief. He cared nothing for our culture, our history. The first, last, and only thing he wanted from us was our ability to serve the military aims of the Horde.

We Huojin were split up and assigned to various fronts in Horde territory. I was sent to the Eastern Kingdoms, to serve under the leadership of the Forsaken and their Banshee Queen, Sylvanas Windrunner. The Forsaken, they...I...they are corpses, infused with the souls of the dead! From what I understand, they were killed by a monstrous army of reanimated corpses controlled by a figure they call the Lich King. Then they were similarly raised and enslaved to his will, forced to kill their friends and loved ones in turn. At some point Lady Sylvanas broke free of her enslavement and managed to free these Forsaken as well. Such horror they have witnessed!

It seems that this Lich King was defeated a few years ago, so the Forsaken have had their revenge. But their hate remains. It is hard to tell where that hate is directed now, but I have been around them long enough to know, it is strong and it is their driving force. I am not familiar enough with the politics of the outside world to understand why exactly the Forsaken are willing to be a part of the Horde, nor why the Horde is willing to accept them. Many times I have had the impression that the other peoples of the Horde view Forsaken with distrust, wariness, and maybe even fear. And now, after months of service with them, I think I understand why. But I get ahead of myself.

I will send you more details of my journey when I next find time to write. Until then, please, I beg of you to not follow me into this hell that is the Horde...

Please give my love to everyone.
  • Mengxi

The Elder looked at the silent, worried faces, and shrugged slightly. "I guess we can only wait." Moving to Mengxi's parents, who were clutching each other in fear, he placed a comforting hand on their shoulder. "He is alive. He can still come back to us. Our thoughts are with him, too."

06 June 2013

It's not filler if you like reading it

Nah I take that back, it's still filler. But I hate to see my blog get dusty and boring - by which I mean I have no intention of closing up shop, I'm just getting my butt kicked by real life! It actually sucks; after the podcast and feeling really fired up to write, suddenly I found myself knee-deep in professional Japanese resume-writing. Which, I needn't remind you, is not my forte.

Hire me to do professional business for your company I have many useful skills
Working on those moon-rune documents kept me out of WoW for quite a while, but I've popped in here and there to tend my farm and try to push through the Dominance Offensive dailies so I can finally catch up with whatever it is that Dah wants me to see. (no spoilers please >_>) All I know is that the quest to go into the mine and kill those spirit traps underground was designed by a cruel and unfeeling dev.

Aside from that, I've been battling pets, although I'm WAY behind knowing what to do. Similar to pokemon, I just pick the cutest guys and use them to kill all the other guys. I have gotten some GREAT advice from twitter, however, so I hope to one day be someone who gives reputable advice instead of making suggestions like "have you considered using the fluffy kitty?"

I do not want to battle the other fluffy kitties
I was really enjoying leveling Weipon, and recently hit 88, but I realized that if I got too ahead in my leveling I would end up with a bunch of half-finished quest notes and no recollection of actually doing any of the quests, which would squash later writing! Instead I decided to hit up the Darkmoon Faire and aggressively watch Dubenko from the sidelines.

Let's see how long you dodge those rings after I get at you
So to reiterate, I'm not  going anywhere. A new LW chapter and the continuation of the main Pandaria story are forthcoming! Posts might be much more irregular in their scheduling, but the spark of creativity lives on! Frankly, I'm just glad that I have so many opportunities to share my new gifs with you! It may have nothing to do with WoW, but collecting and sharing humorous gifs is one of my hobbies, so I hope you know that I'm not just trying to fill post space, but rather bring you the latest and greatest of internet hilarity!

And now, the most recent search terms:

"a totally sweet blog"
    YOU'VE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE
"adventure time birthday party ideas"
    I'm thinking Lady Rainicorn/long-Jake streamers, snacks shaped like residents of the Candy Kingdom, LSP balloons, and everyone has to imitate Tree Trunks' voice
"aysa cloudsinger porn"
    NO, NO, BAD INTERNET, NO, BAD
"im soo full of butt toots spongebob"
    Me too, Spongebob, me too
"sloth whisper song meme"
    I have no idea but if you find it will you let me know? I'm a diehard member of the sloth fandom :B
"cow of the wild fanfiction"
    Shit yeah, get on over to the Series page
"dragon which is red but big"
    I don't know that being red precludes being big, so you have lots of options
"indicator raptor explosion"
    :|a this sounds like a goblin experiment gone wrong
"quilin"
    YES! Look at those majestic bastards!
"what is red cow with high heels facebook logo"
    I'm curious about this red cow "with high heels" (I didn't publish that picture anywhere...) but currently my fb picture is a velociraptor statue wearing a knitted cap
"janeway muscles"
    Mmm yes I have just the reaction gif for Cpt Janeway's muscles:
"i had a dream about red cow i taking a it to home"
    I don't know if I should feel flattered or deeply concerned
"jessha reach"
    !! Minor character love <3
"did the girl jump from the bridge at the red cow"
    I couldn't find anything about a bridge at the red cow but I certainly hope not!!

And just because it's been making me laugh for a million years:
Is it the scarf? The expression? It's the scarf, I think.

21 May 2013

Stowaway (guest post!!)

Previously: A Dream

Dahakha perched on the edge of the cliff, peering through beady bird-eyes down at the Drag. Periodically he twitched his head around nervously, watching for any signs of recognition from the guards, patrols, and general passersby. It was a gamble simply being here, but he could see no other option to avoid a hermetic existence in some remote wilderness. As long as he remained in one of his animal forms, and didn't run into any high-ranking druids, he was fairly certain that he would blend in as just another visitor to Orgrimmar.

After the rude shock of finding that his guild headquarters were not where he remembered them being, it had only taken a few minutes to locate the HQ of this dimension's guild, and now he was looking for a familiar face to show itself. He brooded over his predicament as he waited. Sometimes he still thought he was dreaming, stuck in some never ending nightmare.....or that, perhaps, he was actually, completely mad. Insane, even. But the familiarity of his surroundings always restored his confidence in reality, however bizarre it was turning out to be. Every so often something jarred his perception, reminded him of the same-but-different nature of the world he was now living in, but he was surprised to realise that those moments were becoming less frequent and less intense. Obviously his long experience with the uncertainties that defined engineering had inured him to such shocks. The thought made him chuckle-chirp to himself quietly. It was engineering that had got him into this in the first place!

After a long night in conversation with Unoke, the windrider master at Thunderlord Stronghold, Dahakha had left in a daze that had little to do with the Mulgore firewater they'd downed together. Clearly the world he was in was not the one he'd been in the previous day. Moreover, from what his old friend had told him, it would be dangerous to make himself known to Horde authorities. What pained him the most though, was the idea that he was cut off from the Cenarion Circle as well. He'd meditated on it for a number of days, then decided to end the nagging doubts by investigating Unoke's claims himself. Finding himself a cave – not much larger than a niche – in Nagrand from which to base himself, he journeyed back through the Dark Portal to Mulgore. Finding the junkbox at the grave had been a shock. Was it her? Could she....he risked a foray into Thunder Bluff to seek out answers. Returning to the grave, he had intended to replace the offering, but found himself unable to relinquish the only reminder he had of her. With a mixture of hope and reluctance, he returned to Nagrand and continued to meditate on the matter. Finally admitting to himself that he had no real understanding of what had happened, and unable to seek help from his usual sources, he had decided to consult with the learned ogre-magi of Ogri'La.

It had taken months, but eventually Dahakha was persuaded that his wormhole generator experiments had......succeeded....in a way that he had not been able to imagine. Of course, as an engineer he was familiar with dimensional travel, but the possibility of it taking him to a whole new reality was completely new.

Unfortunately, the ogre-magi could not offer anything except condolences when he started exploring ways to return home. Apparently there were, in theory, an infinite number of realities, and they counseled him against trying to duplicate his experiment as the chances of him finding his home again were vanishingly small. With a heavy heart, Dahakha had thanked them for their help and taken his leave.

Now here he was, trying to see if he could contact guild members and start a new life with them. He fought down another surge of panic as the thought flashed through his mind yet again that his friends might not be in this guild, might not even exist in this world. He calmed himself with the reassurance that his closest friend, the one he could trust absolutely with his situation, was alive and a member here. Now he just had to find her, and hope that she would speak to him again, after that......no, no, it could be different here. He prayed that it was different, one of the few things he'd be glad to see changed.

Shuffling along the edge of the cliff, he became suddenly impatient. Where was everyone?! He hadn't seen anyone enter or leave the HQ for hours! In fact.....the entire city seemed rather empty. Abruptly tired of waiting, he fell forward, gliding down to the guild entrance. Flowing into lionform, he padded through the door, searching the building for signs of activity. Hmph. Nothing. Glancing through some open doorways to sleeping quarters, he got the decided impression that most people had been away for a goodly amount of time. This was very odd. He needed some answers, and unfortunately that meant risking talking to strangers.

Trotting outside again, he made his way down the Drag, considering his options. A merchant would probably be best, he mused. Spotting a tauren walking away from one shop, an Earthen Ring tabard proudly displayed over her armour, he quickly barged in before he lost his nerve. There was a startled orc just inside on his way out, and the orc at the workbench was half out of her seat, though she seemed more angry than surprised at his sudden entrance. The orc at the door glanced back at her. "Remember, no slaughtering customers!" With a straight-faced wink at Dahakha he left the shop.

Sitting on the floor beside the entrance, Dahakha realised belatedly that he would have to give up his animal cover if he was to get any information here. The orc frowned at his silence.

"Can I help you at all, druid?"

With a sigh Dahakha flowed back into his tauren shape, twitching and poised for flight if any sign of recognition showed in the orc's face. After a tense moment, he relaxed slightly and spoke. "Greetings. I have...been away for a substantial amount of time, and I return to find the city much less busy than I remember it being. I was hoping you could enlighten me on the reason?"

The orc's eyebrows raised incredulously. "You haven't heard?"

Dahakha scowled. "Obviously not. Is there some news of Deathwing? Has Ragnaros finally been defeated?"

At this, it was the orc's turn to scowl. "Har har, your little joke is about a year old now, druid. Stop wasting my time." She turned back to her seat, muttering scornfully under her breath.

Dahakha stood in confusion and mounting indignation as she sat down, pointedly ignoring him. His mouth opened and closed silently, torn between answering this rudeness and the need for answers. Finally he settled for shifting into a lion and giving vent to an almighty roar of frustration.

The orc did not look impressed at all. She waited until he shifted back, then pointed at the door. "If you don't have work for me, then leaving would be a good idea."

Dahakha took a deep breath. The orc gave him a warning glare, and he let it out again, shoulders slumping. Gathering himself, he said "I apologise for giving you offense; it was not my intention. As I said, I have been away for a long time, and I find all my friends gone. The city seems almost deserted. I have no idea where they could have gone. Anything you could tell me would be most appreciated."

The orc stared at him appraisingly. Finally she spoke. "Someone found a new land. The Warchief sent an expedition out there to claim it for the Horde, and after the relative peace after Deathwing was killed, I'd imagine your friends - along with most of the adventurers and thrill-seekers in Orgrimmar – went to see the sights." She waved vaguely at the door. "There's some sort of ambassador in the Valley of Honour, they can probably tell you more."

Acknowledging this dismissal, Dahakha bowed his head in thanks and with another mumbled apology flowed out into the Drag again. Making his way to the Valley of Honour, he quickly saw the camp of the newcomers. An apprentice mage was nearby, maintaining a portal. Approaching him cautiously, Dahakha asked where it led. "Pandaria, of course!" the blood elf snapped, not bothering to turn around. "No, I can't issue passes!", he continued before Dahakha could say anything more. "Get one from the Warchief's hall."

Dahakha turned away, disappointed. After a few steps he brightened. The merchant had said the Horde had an expeditionary force there....they would need supplies and reinforcements. All he had to do was find a ship to sneak aboard. That shouldn't be too difficult. Finally having a purpose and a plan felt good, and some of the tense weight on his mind eased a little. He turned his attention to the new arrivals, studying the Pandaren delegation curiously. Their friendly demeanour invited his approach, and he decided to see if he could learn anything useful about this new land. Again he was disappointed, though, for these Pandaren were only slightly more familiar with the Pandaria of today as he was. When they asked him about himself, he remembered his danger and quickly excused himself, hurrying off.

As dusk deepened into night, a bird landed on the deck of the airship Saurfang. Minutes later the hold had another occupant. Settling down to sleep, Dahakha woke to the sounds of the crew preparing to leave. Making himself as comfortable as he could amongst boxes and sacks stamped with the words 'Domination Point', he took out the rusted junkbox from his bag. Carefully holding it in his large, callused hands, he once again gazed at the slim proof that his goal was worth chasing. He wondered how long it would take to find her.....and if things would turn out better this time around.......

18 May 2013

Dahakhabeko's One Time Fun Time Podcast (Two Time)

Part One

In which some cows get tipped tipsy.


This was cobbled together from a series of recordings in an effort to appease the MP3 Skype Recorder gods. I apologize for some weird garbled bits in the middle and hope you can understand that part!

12 May 2013

Dahakhabeko's One Time Fun Time Podcast! Pt. 1

Part 1: In which Dahakha puts up with Akabeko's drinking


Towards the end the audio gets a little garbled as it speeds uncontrollably on into the sunset. Despite a very entertaining Saturday night conversation, the second half of the audio is completely unintelligible. For that reason, we bring you the first 45 minutes now and will have to re-record the rest later this week. I'm so very sorry for the inconvenience!

Part 2!

10 May 2013

A Dream [guest post!!]



As he fell into the blackness of sleep, the words echoed once more in Hadakha's mind.

She is broken.

The first dream exploded into being. He was surrounded by fire, screams, missiles zipping through the air past his head. It took a moment to register that he was on an airship, and that it was under attack. People were running about madly, trying to find weapons, put out fires, repair damage, yelling orders. He caught sight of Akabeko, sitting in a gunner's chair, while Weipon loaded the cannon with ammunition. He started forward and began calling out to them, but a massive explosion slammed the ship sideways, sending a screaming Weipon over the rail.

He watched as Akabeko stared dumbly at the space where her friend had been, then threw herself out into the air after her. He rushed to the rail, peering down as a huge stormcrow dove after the pandaren, snatching her from the air and delivering her safely to the ground. But...how did she get so big? He saw the crow lift off again, then suddenly screech in pain and slump sideways, apparently losing the use of one wing. As she fell, she shrank weirdly, flailing about in distress before slamming into the ground.....

She cannot control her forms. What use is a druid who has lost her abilities?

Now he was in a pandaren tavern drinking room, sitting next to Akabeko, with Weipon across from them. Crowds of curious pandaren surrounded them, eagerly refilling mugs with strongly-spiced ale, clamouring for information about the foreigners. He turned to the tauren woman and heard himself say something in Pandaren, which triggered a snort from Weipon. After a brief exchange, Akabeko turned back to him with an overly cheerful smile, grinding out "I'm going to kill you in your sleep!" from between gritted teeth. She clinked his mug before downing her drink.

Threats of violence? Murder?! Is that really how an Archdruid should behave?

Again he was in a drinking room, surrounded by laughter, conversation and singing. He saw Akabeko across the room, throwing back a drink, nodding absently to the pandaren next to her as they filled her cup again. She looked grim, occasionally sending a brief half-smile to whoever was talking at her, nodding uncomprehendingly as the talk went on, unceasing. Abruptly she stood, knocking over some cups, and gripped the table hard as she swayed dangerously. Without a word she stumbled off to her room, crashing into walls and banging her head and shoulders against doorframes. He followed her, but as he entered her room the scene faded, and the last he saw was her sprawled face-down on the bed, drool flowing out the corner of her mouth, a purloined bottle hanging loosely from her hand...

Do you really want a drunkard guiding you? Making important decisions that affect the lives of others?

He watched as Akabeko and Weipon stood together, bending over a map in the tauren's hands. Akabeko looked around, confused, and scratched her head as she tried to figure out where they were. Suddenly Weipon pointed at the map and exclaimed something, gesturing in agitation. The druid looked around again, doubtfully, then shrugged. Packing up, they set off, the pandaren woman striking out confidently while Akabeko trailed along obediently.

A druid who gets lost in a forest? How can such a one be considered for promotion?

Akabeko leant over the decayed body of a Forsaken woman, trying to determine the extent of her wounds. He saw her mutter under her breath and gesture, then wince. She closed her eyes and her face tightened with effort as she struggled to cast a healing spell. Finally she finished, but the strain left her panting in exhaustion, and the glow of her hands as they hovered above the Forsaken was pitifully weak.

How could one so weak in ability even interest the Council?

He looked down at the bloodied tauren, kneeling on the floor before him, eyes downcast as he smashed his fist into her skull. She rocked back, then straightened again, still looking dully at the floor as he laughed and raised his fist once more.

She has no passion! No care! No will to fight back!

She is broken!

A bell chimed.

She is broken!

Images started to flitter through his mind...Akabeko angrily waving away a pleading Weipon, swigging from a flask-

She is broken!

Akabeko staring vacantly into the distance as, beside her, Weipon attempts to negotiate with an important-looking pandaren-

She is broken!

Weipon sitting and chatting with a group of pandaren around a table, while Akabeko sits in a dark corner, brooding over a mug of ale-

She is brok-

A bell chimed.