I'm still a hard-boiled detective.

100 Goblin Warlock
11675
Get to the bomb!

It's too bad you probably don't have access to a sizable load of perfume - old lady type of perfume. Switch the plague for that, and let it rip. POOF! Orgrimmar is unlivable (manner of speaking) for a whole week!


Ha! Tikky you are brilliant. But there probably isnt a drop of perfume to be found in the B.O. Basin. I'm sure she could find a wagon load of kodo dung though. But even if that exploded, i doubt the locals would notice.

- Forbs
"For Gnomeregan!"


Hey, hey, hey! You forget Goblins have moved in! We covered all those smells up with a nice heady perfume of petrol and smog. If you're sniffin hard enough you'll pass out LONG before you pick up the scent of any dung or B.O.

On an unrelated note, why are this Druid's hands tightening around my throat?
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75 Night Elf Rogue
3330
12/08/2012 02:49 PMPosted by Enekie
1. Save Orgrimmar and get the bomb out of the city!
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90 Troll Druid
8765
12/09/2012 02:19 PMPosted by Roulette
On an unrelated note, why are this Druid's hands tightening around my throat?

YOU! STOLE! MY! PIE!!!
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100 Night Elf Rogue
14620
12/09/2012 10:24 AMPosted by Oramor
Enekie likes to hit people with bricks.


Well, I wouldn't say likes.
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100 Goblin Priest
10935
Hey, hey, hey! You forget Goblins have moved in! We covered all those smells up with a nice heady perfume of petrol and smog. If you're sniffin hard enough you'll pass out LONG before you pick up the scent of any dung or B.O.

On an unrelated note, why are this Druid's hands tightening around my throat?


"Hey, at least we got some perfume in the works! Rou just gotta not have it have that side effect... Isn't that right, Rou?"

Sighs as she sends a renew Roulette's way.

12/09/2012 04:35 PMPosted by Kaltokk
YOU! STOLE! MY! PIE!!!


"Well, at least ya aren't like the others who are all "Ya exploded a tree!" or "Ya polluted the water!" Pfft, as if all of that is our individual fault!"
Edited by Snuffit on 12/9/2012 5:06 PM PST
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90 Troll Druid
8765
12/09/2012 05:05 PMPosted by Snuffit
YOU! STOLE! MY! PIE!!!


"Well, at least ya aren't like the others who are all "Ya exploded a tree!" or "Ya polluted the water!" Pfft, as if all of that is our individual fault!"

Why would someone blow up a tree when you could cut it down for lumber and plant a new one? Also as for the water pollution thing, I can see that you're working on fixing that problem in your little corner of Ogrimmar, even if it's for the sake of profit.
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100 Goblin Warlock
11675
12/09/2012 04:35 PMPosted by Kaltokk
On an unrelated note, why are this Druid's hands tightening around my throat?

YOU! STOLE! MY! PIE!!!


Secrets and lies! I WAS FRAMED! I'm a witness, I didn't see myself do it! My breath is naturally pecan scented! /flails!

Hey, hey, hey! You forget Goblins have moved in! We covered all those smells up with a nice heady perfume of petrol and smog. If you're sniffin hard enough you'll pass out LONG before you pick up the scent of any dung or B.O.

On an unrelated note, why are this Druid's hands tightening around my throat?


"Hey, at least we got some perfume in the works! Rou just gotta not have it have that side effect... Isn't that right, Rou?"

Sighs as she sends a renew Roulette's way.


Ah yes, the patented Purple Rain! Just don't use around reptiles. TRUST ME.
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90 Troll Druid
8765
12/09/2012 09:35 PMPosted by Roulette

YOU! STOLE! MY! PIE!!!


Secrets and lies! I WAS FRAMED! I'm a witness, I didn't see myself do it! My breath is naturally pecan scented! /flails!

You think I will fall for such trickery? WELL YOU THOUGHT WRONG! /shakes her
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100 Night Elf Rogue
14620
Whoosh! Exciting stuff tomorrow, I promise!
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90 Human Death Knight
12140
You must save the people of Orgrimmar!
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100 Goblin Warlock
11675

You think I will fall for such trickery? WELL YOU THOUGHT WRONG! /shakes her


/gurgles!

12/10/2012 03:56 AMPosted by Enekie
Whoosh! Exciting stuff tomorrow, I promise!


So excited! :D Really enjoying the story! Combining Noir and WoW pleases me. <3
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90 Goblin Shaman
10205
12/10/2012 03:56 AMPosted by Enekie
Whoosh! Exciting stuff tomorrow, I promise!


Off topic, but your shoulders look a bit massive in your forum portrait o_ 0
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100 Night Elf Rogue
14620
Vinterson...Clarice...

It's time to be heroes.

The thing about smart people is that all their voice is spent in their own head. Stupid people talk a lot to convince themselves of things they're not sure of. Intelligent people don't bother; they already know.

Jadoth's plan wasn't too bad, really. The bombs near Grommash Hold are just big flashbangs--if Vinterson is to be believed--designed to stir people into a panic and send them running to their homes in the Drag. They'd get stuck here, crowded in these gates, and that's when the real fun would begin.

Even when he was telling me his entire plan, he neglected to mention this part. He knew he wanted to kill people. Maybe he didn't know just why he did.

It's pointless thinking about it, of course. Especially when time is of the essence. I let him go so I could do this.

Poised at the top of the Drag Gates, I slowly lower the bomb--a cluster of explosives with a glowing green heart of Plague--into the wagon Vinterson's positioned below via a thick rope.


"I say," Vinterson calls up from below, "you're aware we're well within earshot of the dear Warchief and his pack of slavering bipedal hounds, yes? Perhaps a bit of haste would be in order?"

Clarice lows in agreement, clearly restless. She's lost her best friend once already, not keen to do it again.

I ignore him and his kodo. We don't know what'll happen if I slip and drop this. Or if I even set it down a little faster than it wants to go.

Well, that's not entirely true. We
do know what happens. We just don't know what'll make it do that.

Regardless, the Plague bomb settles comfortably in the back of the kodo cart, a fat green baby tucked safely in its crib. I grab the rope and slide down to join it, sitting with it in the back while Vinterson settles at the wagon's head, taking Clarice's reins.

I look over my shoulder. The crowd is starting to get to a high fever pitch. Angry, restless, positively bloodthirsty for any sight of a pair of long ears that might walk among them.

But, for the moment, they're still focused on their Warchief.


"All right," I say, "take her out at a trot. We'll loop through the Valley of Strength, head out through the Azshara gates and drop this as far away from any sign of life we can. Then it won't matter if Jadoth blows it."

"Agreed," Vinterson says. "The Scourge's purestrain wasn't designed to be airborne. It dissipates in a strong breeze. Almost a pity, though, isn't it?" He sighs. "Northrend's become a veritable ghost town--pardon the pun--since the Lich King fell. We may never have a chance to have this kind of power in our hands again."

Something in his voice, a wistfulness one usually reserves for memories of old girlfriends, makes me raise a brow at that statement.

I'll ask later. For now, all that matters is getting out. Hellscream's speech will be winding down soon and the crowds will disperse. All we need to do is move out nice and easy and hope that--


"THERE SHE IS!"

That doesn't happen.

The sound of a gunshot. A bullet goes whizzing past my ear.

At this point, it hardly seems necessary to look, but I do anyway. Kor'kron Enforcers, rifle-toting, wolf-riding, elf-hating and coming out of the gates to the Valley of Strength in force.


"Son of a..." I hiss. "Turn around. We need to find another way."

"Around?" he asks. "But the only way is through the crowd."

"I'll think of something." Though I kind of wonder what exactly I'm going to think of to get us out of this as the Kor'kron spur their beasts forward. "Just GO!"

"Give us a ladylike turn, Clarice! Show us your pirouette!"

Clarice lows like she knows exactly what to do.

She swings her massive bulk around, causing the cart to fishtail. In another moment, she's off, lumbering toward the Valley of Honor. Slowly, at first, but she's picking up speed.

Regardless of the crowd of assembled orcs looming into view.


"We need to scatter them," I hiss. "This is supposed to be bloodless."

"Really, detective, we've blown up Shadow knows how many buildings. One would think Bomzik wouldn't even--"

"JUST DO IT!"

He sighs dramatically. Not half as dramatically, though, as the laugh he gives as he rises out of his seat and pulls a vial out of his coat. He hurls it into the crowd, watching it shatter in an eruption of green gas.

"RUN! RUN, LITTLE CHILDREN! YOUR MOTHERS WERE RIGHT! YOU'VE ALL BEEN DREADFULLY NAUGHTY AND THE WINEMAKER HAS COME TO COLLECT!"

That's not the most effective threat I've ever heard.

But you wouldn't know it, from the crowd's reaction.


"HE'S HERE! IT'S TRUE! HE'S ALIVE!"

"SAVE US, WARCHIEF!"

"FIRST GRAVES, NOW THIS?!"
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100 Night Elf Rogue
14620
The thing about fear is that it has no footing. It's too loose. Too shaky. All it needs is a bigger fear to knock it down. In this case, a mass murderer who's half-legend, half-bogeyman is more than enough to dispel Hellscream's hold on the people.

They go scattering in a thousand screaming directions, fleeing from the gasses exploding around us as we charge through it. Harmless smoke, I can tell; Vinterson wouldn't drive his darling through anything toxic. But what the crowd doesn't know won't hurt us. They clear a path for us as they go shrieking out of our way.

But there's too many between us and the gates leading to the Drano'shar Blockade. And there are more Kor'kron coming out there. We couldn't get there in time. Vinterson sees it, too, and he's steering us toward the ramp leading up to the troll slums. The only way out now is through the Barrens and that means going past--

...uh oh.

I look up and see his eyes upon me.

The murderer of Theramore. The great enemy. The Warchief.

Garrosh Hellscream.

And even with a bellowing kodo toting an unliving legend and a night elf who just won't die charging him, even as his Kor'kron jump of its way, he's not moving.

He's picking up that giant axe of his. He's getting ready. He's aiming for my head.

Instinctively, I flip my dagger out. I throw it over Vinterson's head. It hits Hellscream's shoulder with a dull thump, sinking halfway to the hilt, but he doesn't even notice. He's looking at me, he's drawing his axe back.

He swings.

I feel the air scream with the force of his blow. I feel two hairs shorn from the top of my head. One presumes that I wouldn't if my head weren't attached anymore. I got lucky.

I look up, look back as his figure shrinks in the distance. He pulls the knife from his shoulder, snorts and tosses it to the ground. I can't help but smile.

I had friends in Theramore, you ugly potroast.

My smile fades as I hear wolves howling in the distance, growing louder. Clarice is fast, but they're faster. Kor'kron Enforcers come rioting after us, rifles loaded and aimed.


"Switch," I say.

"What?" Vinterson asks.

"I'm out of things to throw. Switch."

He does so, with some reluctance. Even as I sit down and take the reins, I hear Clarice low in protest. She doesn't like me here, but the scent of danger has her running. She knows that it's either me or death. And like a true professional, she picks up the pace.

We ride up the ramp, I take a hard turn into the troll slums. The gangplanks rattle beneath Clarice's thunderous strides. Trolls fling themselves into the water to avoid being trampled. I kind of feel that I should apologize, considering how much they've helped me, however inadvertently.

Maybe I'll write a thank you note.

I hear glass exploding behind me. I hear Vinterson laughing. He's finally got a chance to deploy his lethal varieties now. The howls are growing more distant. No sense in being overly optimistic.

I steer Clarice hard left, then right, again and again, twisting through the slums, trying to make us harder to follow until finally the Gates loom ahead of us, blocked by a small cluster of grunts. Not Kor'kron. Working men and women of the Horde, just trying to get by.

I can't lie, I felt a little bad when I spurred Clarice on and we bowled through them, sending them scattering in a screaming cluster.

Looks like I'll be writing a lot of notes.

I veer hard left. The Barrens stretches out before us.


"We need a plan, detective!" Vinterson calls out to be heard over Clarice's thunder. "Clarice can't keep this up forever!"

"Can you disarm the bomb?" I call back. "If we can do that, it won't matter where we drop it."

"Sadly, I was never very good at mechanics. I've been trying for the past few minutes, but it's all Draenei to me."

Damn it.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

I hear the howls. The Kor'kron are regrouping. Jadoth's finger could be a hairsbreadth over the trigger right now. We need a plan. Quickly.


"The cliffs," the words come to me instinctually. "There are cliffs between here and the Southfury Watershed. We can hide it there."

"How, detective? Those are far too steep to leap down and there's no way down but leaping."

"We'll think of something. We'll--"

"FOR THE HORDE!"

I hear the orcs before I hear the gunshots. Bullets go flying over my head. Rifles roar. Wolves shriek in terrified excitement. Clarice grunts, puts her back into it. The cliffs loom in the distance.

It's about the time I realize that I can hear the orcish voices commanding me to stop that I realize we're never going to make it.
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100 Night Elf Rogue
14620
They're too fast. Clarice, bless her, is just not as quick. They're going to catch us. I'm going to be killed. And Hellscream will have a new weapon to use on whoever he sees fit, assuming Jadoth doesn't get it again.

I shouldn't have stopped him. This is the Horde. What am I even doing here? Why should I have stuck my neck out like this?

All for her?

Damn it, Graves, why is there always a "her" when it comes to you?

I hear the wolves catching up. The gunshots ring as though they're right in my ear. This is it. This is where the legend of Enekie Graves and Ivan Vinterson comes to a--


"Not this time."

Vinterson's voice. I look over my shoulder, see him rising up, daring the bullets to hit him. His hair is flying in the breeze. His arms are spread wide.

"No more party favors. No more pleasant companies. No more gentle jokes. My legacy is too important."

"Vinterson?"

"No, my dear. Not Vinterson." He flashes a quick smile. "The Man in White has come to call."

He opens his coat. Bandoleers of vials of all kinds of colors, a nauseating rainbow, are strapped to his skinny body. He seizes them from his vest, holds them aloft over his head as he screams.

"YOUR WARCHIEF COULDN'T KILL ME. THE DARK LADY COULDN'T KILL ME. YOU CANNOT KILL ME! GAZE UPON ME AND DESPAIR, PRIMATES, I AM THE GOD OF DEATH!"

He flings his vials out. They hit the bullets, hit the ground, hit the rocks. Explosions of all kinds of plagues, diseases, poisons go rising up in a cloud behind us. I hear people screaming. I hear wolves whining. I hear skin melting.

I don't turn around.

Not even as I hear Vinterson clambering back into the seat beside me.

And when I do look, I can tell something's gone terribly wrong. He's breathing hard. His eyes are wide and desperate. There's a dark stain growing larger on his coat where the bullets struck him.


"I...I'm afraid I may have let the drama of the moment cloud my better judgment, detective," he gasps. "I...they got me."

"It's all right," I lie. "It's okay. You can treat yourself once we get to the cliffs and stop and hide."

"No time, detective. The bomb might not have gone off yet, but the Kor'kron will be after us shortly. And if they find this, Hellscream will add it to his armory and all those deaths will be on my hands...again. Someone needs to guide this to the cliffs." He coughs up a thick liquid. "Over the cliffs."

What should Enekie do?

1. Take the reins and--

"Detective."

He interrupts me, puts his hand on my shoulder, gives me a smile.

"It has been an honor."

I feel him shove me. Then I feel the ground. I roll along the dirt of the Barrens. When I get up, he's already yards away.

And I stand there, dumbly, as he spurs Clarice into a final rush and, without a sound, goes sailing over the cliff.

He disappears.

No explosions.

No death speeches.

Nothing.

He's just...gone.

Part of me wonders if I should have chased him, at least tried. Part of me wonders if I should have said something. Part of me thinks maybe...I could have saved him.

But that's just my brain trying to kill me again.

My body knows three things.

The Kor'kron will come back soon.

I need to hide.

I really...really need a drink.


What should Enekie do?

1. Report back to Bomzik.

2. No...no, she needs a drink first.
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12/10/2012 05:33 PMPosted by Enekie
2. No...no, she needs a drink first.


Bomzik's been waiting all this time already, what's a few more minutes for a load off and some alcohol down the gullet? She deserves it, for saving all those trying to kill her, anyways.

I'd serve you one just on the premise of being so awesome, let alone saving tons of people and foiling the cuddlepally's devious plans.
Edited by Alshiva on 12/10/2012 5:50 PM PST
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90 Troll Druid
8765
12/10/2012 05:33 PMPosted by Enekie
2. No...no, she needs a drink first.

Go get a drink, you deserve one and I'm sure you can find somewhere to get one.
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100 Goblin Priest
10935
12/10/2012 05:33 PMPosted by Enekie
1. Report back to Bomzik.


^This.

Lord knows what will happen if you pause to grab DRINKS. Grab drinks after you report to Bomzik- that way you can get competely smashed without worrying about Kor'kron.
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78 Blood Elf Rogue
3470
2. No...no, she needs a drink first.
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100 Night Elf Rogue
12700
12/10/2012 05:50 PMPosted by Snuffit
1. Report back to Bomzik.


^This.

Lord knows what will happen if you pause to grab DRINKS. Grab drinks after you report to Bomzik- that way you can get competely smashed without worrying about Kor'kron.

I have to agree with dear little Snuffit.
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