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Archive for April, 2010

Only 4 more to go

I got my ten man Ulduar drake last night, thanks to Verdus’ orginizational skills

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A gift for Dir

“This is a lot easier when Greatfather Winter does it.” Pill scowled at the very small sheep she had cornered in the underbelly of Dalaran. She looked at the festive holiday outfit she had in her hands. “Look here, you!” She shook the tiny clothes in front of the sheep, ignoring its pitiful bleat. “You put this stuff on and get in the box before I turn you into a rat and find a cat!”

The forsaken mage put the tiny outfit on a battered crate that was clear of dirt and turned her back. “And don’t you try to get away, cause I don’t have time!” She heard the gnome moving around behind her, she gave it a few minutes before she turned around. The little person waved to her from the box. “Good gnome!”

She handed the gnome a little bottle of burnwine and a sandwich and patted it on the head. She heard some muttering, but when she looked, it was sitting in its box nibbling on the sandwich. She watched it drink most of the bottle down, so she put a few more bottles in the box and put a folded scarf in bright glowing green for a bed.

“Okay, now we take you to the goblin post! This will make the pretty drunk elf feel better.” She closed the box, ignoring the complaints from the small person inside. “I gotta make a letter. It’s gotta be good. He’s usually kinda grumpy. I wonder what color his hair is today?”

Pill awkwardly carried the large box to the nearest goblin post cart and composed a fairly decent, if slightly wacky letter trying to cheer up the paladin. She found it best if she wrote in big blocky letters because people expected her too. It also made it a lot easier to get out of trouble.
“Can you send this to The Pretty Drunk Elf.. No wait, Dir of the Prophecy of Light?” Pill kept her brightest voice and gave the goblin postperson her very best dimwitted deader mage smile. “I’d send it by dancigram, but I think they are out of business. Too bad too, they were so good at delivering socks.”

Muttering, the goblin took her money. The package moved. “There something alive in here?” The goblin shook the box and Pill squawked.

“You stop that! Poor little thing just ate.” A soft belch came from the box. “Hmm, maybe I put too much booze in there!” She blatantly ignored both the goblin’s stare and his mutter about crazy dead folk. He shut his green trap the moment she tossed him another coin. “You get that to the pretty drunk elf! He needs some cheering up! And that little winter’s helper is just the thing!”

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Blacksmithing

This is a story written a number of months ago, as Keltyr was assembling Dorri’s mechano-hog. Most of it was inspired by a post written by a guildie, Gorebash. Gorebash calls sin’dorei “shinies.” I never quite wrote the ending, as I got distracted. This past week, I felt the urge to clean up my gdocs and found it.

She had no idea how he did it, but every time Keltyr talked her into going to the forge with him just to watch, she ended up helping. Today it was cutting coils of thick cobalt wire into slugs for him to make bolts. Dorri paused, watching him carefully tap the head of the bolt into shape. The tapping of the small hammer could barely be heard over the various other noises of the forge.

“So you talked to Kat about Two ignoring you the other night.” Kel’s voice got her hands back to cutting.

“Apparently, he was distracted.” She shrugged, even though her lover was still facing away from her. “He said something had bothered him. Probably Kat trying to walk off the mountain.”

“Or the fact that she’s still sharing Dir’s bed and not his.”

Dorri snorted, throwing a few more slugs into the bucket at Kel’s feet. “Who knows. Still Two did apologize. I guess that’s something.”

Keltyr paused, holding up the finished bolt before putting it a box next to the vice. “No way to judge until next time you pass him on the street.”

“Two also called me an Alpha Bitch.” The paladin could not keep the smile off her face as Kel froze in motion and then turned around to look at her.

“Was he trying to hit on you?” Dorri ducked her head. hoping to keep her smile out of sight, despite her hair being pulled back, and threw the last few slugs into the bucket. She heard Kel mutter under his breath as he gathered his tools. Their forge time was nearly over for the day.

“Maybe. He also called me potent.” Kel was still muttering when she picked up the bucket of slugs. He snatched the box of finished bolts before she could grab them. “It was funny, he thought I would be offended by being called a bitch.”

Keltyr barked laughter and she could see the slight annoyance slip away. He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “The bucket is in the way.”

“Seemed like the perfect defense to me, since you’re covered in sweat and soot.”

“You have some in your hair.” Keltyr snagged the long pony tail and dragged his fingers through it, snickering as she slapped his hand away.

“Dammit, now I’m going to need a bath.” Distracted by the filth in her hair, she has no defense against Kel taking the bucket from her. “Light!” She snarled at him, but her fellow blood knight merely grinned and threw the box of finished bolts into the bucket. “I could spend a couple of hours doing my hair.”

“You won’t.”

“I won’t?”

“You won’t have time. You still have to eat and then there is the nap you’ll need to take.” He put the bucket and his bundle of tools back on the anvil and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Who says I’ll need a nap.” Kel did not bother to answer. Grinning, he tried to grab her arm. She dodged out of the way, pushing him as he stumbled a few steps forward. She knew the rules of this game. No punches and no kicks. It was harder to win a wrestling contest with Keltyr, since he was physically stronger than she was and she could not cheat.

—–

He had her pinned against a wall. His breath thick in her ear and the fabric of his shirt irritated the burns she had garnered when she had tried to pin him near the bellows. She squirmed as her skin crawled. The wall was no doubt as thick with soot as everything else in the stone room. Keltyr pressed his weight against her, resting his forehead against hers. With her arms held above her head, she could not push him away. She nipped at his nose and let him turn the maneuver into an aggressive kiss. She tried to pull her hands down, but Keltyr tightened her grip with smirk. He opened his mouth to say something pithy about forcing her to surrender, when he was interrupted by a muttered comment in Orcish.

“Damn shinies!”

Keltyr snickered softly and released his hold on her arms. Her lover turned to smirk at Gorebash. The orc had his smithing tools in a satchel at his side. He flung a battered breastplate onto top of a nearby anvil.

“Afternoon, Gorebash.” Dorri spoke breathlessly. She would have moved towards the discarded bucket that contained their morning’s work, but Keltyr had already wrapped an arm around her middle.

“What?” The orc blinked at her, appearing as addled as usual. “You two want some soup?”

Dorri felt her stomach curdle at the very thought of the foul green stuff he normally prepared whenever he could pin a few people down in one location. She had tried some once, out of a misplaced urge to be polite. It had been days before her stomach had recovered. “No, Light, no soup.” She muttered, elbowing Keltyr in the side before he could contradict her.

“Suit yourselves! I make the best soup in town. That shiny hair in the Ledgermain says so.” The orc turned his back on them, intent on heating up the forge and repairing his armor. Keltyr took a few steps towards Gorebash, leaving her to be a bit chilled by the sudden lack of his presence.

Freed and feeling mischevious, she dashed forward and snagged their bucket.

“Going to wash my hair!” She took off, dodging people in the streets of Dalaran. She made it up the three flights of stairs and was hastily trying to unlock their door, when Kel came bounding up the stairs two at a time. Impulsively, she turned, dropping the keys in the bucket and letting the door swing open behind her.

Keltyr looked down at her, breathing heavily. One corner of his mouth quirked as she wrapped her arms around him. “What about your hair?”

Dorri stuck out her tongue at him. “Shut up.” Still grinning, he guided them both through the doorway and kicked the door shut behind them. Luckily, no one touched the bucket of bolts that remained in the hallway.

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