Thursday, November 18, 2010

Tale Eighty Seven: Why I hate logs.

(1:00:59 PM) speakerjones: dude, if effing garrosh actually ends up running
the show... just.. no. no on SO many levels.

(1:01:18 PM) littlebark: If he does, I quit WoW


Ahem. For the record, he was still a pup when I said that. Besides. I'm Alliance now. So there.


But if you've read The Shattering, you know why I feel like I could kill Garrosh.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Tale Eighty Six: Littlebark's Corner - A New Song is Sung.

She had zoomed by Draenor as a young druid, anxious to get to Northrend.

Still, from what she could remember, the Outland had beautiful parts just as it had land drenched with evil. She found it soothing to fly over the marshes of Zangermarsh and knowing that soon enough, she’d be helping heal this land.

Maybe this time I’ll be able to actually heal something and make a difference.

The Sporeggar were friendly, if a little cautious of her. She towered over them, having to bend down to hear them. They warmed to her eventually, and soon even the children were carefree enough to play with her.

It felt good being asked for help, she thought to herself as she gathered Glowcaps. It felt good not to worry about death and plagues for once.

“Shame, that such talent is wasted here.”

She looked up, surprised at hearing a voice she did not recognize. An orc glared down at her, studying her. Littlebark stood slowly, wiping the dirt off her hands on her plain dressings. “I beg your pardon?”

“Bahh!” The orc spat irritably as he began to pace, “This task you’ve forced yourself to do is for peons and recruits. Best leave as soon as possible.”

Her jaw dropped and her eyes narrowed. In a low and dangerous voice, she hissed, “The Sporeggar need help, they don’t care whether it’s from a peon, recruit or a veteran of war.”

Out of his pouch, he pulled a small totem. Slowly twirling it between his fingers, he muttered to himself, “The fool believes she has meaning here. I say we leave her to her fate.”

The anger flashed in her, leaving her vision red. Asking the Earthmother for patience, she snapped, “I am no fool, orc. Who are you? Why are you here?”

He let out a single grunt, whether it was full of content or humor, she couldn’t tell. “Have it your way. Druid, the spirits have told me to seek you.”

“The… spirits,” she played with the word slowly then shook her head, “perhaps you’re looking for the wrong Tauren. I answer to the Earthmother, shaman.”

“I care not for your fairytales,” he said simply, ignoring Littlebark’s menacing growl, “The wind plays a new song now. One of deep slumber. Of dark past come anew. The spirits have brought me to you, so that you may assist us.”

Shivers ran down her spine. When she finally found her voice, she breathed, “I have done my share, in Northrend. Isn’t that enough?”

The orc let out a roar, causing her to stumble two steps back. “Enough talk. You will come either way! Spirits witness! You will bend to this fate. Now, come! Prove to me that that the spirits have chosen a worthy one.” He pulled out both maces from his belt, already his blood boiling with bloodlust.

Littlebark looked stunned. Her hand reached for her staff, her eyes swimming with confusion, “I cannot just leave my post, shaman. My leader – he has placed me – WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”

She dodged the mace, but just barely. Her staff blocked the next blow but the ancient wood groaned in effort. Using all her weight and height, she pushed him far away enough to morph into her travel form and stay out of his reach. Fear, confusion and anger –all rolled into one – were pitted in her belly as she pushed her paws hard into the earth.

“Run, fool!” He yelled with laughter in his voice.

“STOP THIS MADNESS! WHO ARE YOU!?” Littlebark bellowed when she had put a safe distance between them, panting heavily as she muttered a spell to ease her wound, “I will NOT be killed by some maniac. I refuse you and your duel! What do you want? ANSWER ME!”

“Witness! I am Karsung! Battle Shaman of the Warsong Clan! The spirits have asked me to bring you to them! So that they may seek your help.”

“The Warsong Clan? What on Earth do they want with…” she heaved a great sigh, rubbing her temple, “I will go… for now. I need to inform my leader; Cryssam.”

“Do not test my patience, Druid.”

She ignored his order and said easily, “we can go to Zabra’jin. The Sporeggar do not trust easily, and you would make them uneasy with your presence in their village.”

Karsung snorted, “they would be foolish to test me. Come, spore people! Prove your worth!”

Littlebark grabbed his arm, pulling him farther away from the village before he could cause more damage. “Hush, fool. They have their reasons for trusting only a few. Let’s set off to the neighboring troll village. It’s not far, and I can tie any loose strings there.”

“So be it.”

She let out a long, drawn out sigh. Whatever her job with the Sporeggar was, it looked like it was done for now.