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Mcskinner fell to the back of the line as the troops began to file into formation. There were many new faces, and few old ones, but all in all, it was good that things were getting back to normal. He was a week into his newly appointed duties, and the King’s armor never before looked so polished. His head was finally starting to clear, seven days with no ale was a great feat of strength for a dwarf. He still remembered his last drink, stale, warm, and bitter. He was angry it hadn’t been a nice fresh frosty one.
King Bruenor kept his speech nice and short. Spoke about some general business, and told us to watch our mail boxes for a letter. Special orders perhaps? After that he ordered us to the gryphon master where he told him where to send us all. Amazing bond a gryphon master has with his gryphons. Tell him you need a ride and you just hop on, he plays a tune on his flute, and off you go towards your destination.
The flight down to Rebel Camp was peaceful. Mcskinner always liked soaring through the mountains and trees. The air is fresh enough to clear your head of any ailments, both sickness of the body and mind. By the time he landed the king and most of the other troops were already mounted up and heading down the trail. The jungle was full of all kinds of noises that night. Sounds he hadn’t heard in a long time, he’d almost forgotten how unnerving it made him, made the hair on his neck stand up.
The trail came to an end and Mcskinner knew where they were, Grom’gol Base Camp. Clan Battlehammer has used this place many a times for their incursions into Horde territory. The mission was simple enough, kill all the guards and throw a sack of gold at the Zepplin Captain, and he’d take us where we wanted to go. Tonight’s adventure would take into the undead lands of Lordaeron. Mcskinner watched the king as he stood on the airships bow, vacant expression and silent as a graveyard, and he knew why. Many a brethren were lost down in them tunnels of Undercity. Getting in wasn’t the problem, but getting out, always proved harder than one would think.
The trip was fast, and before long the troops were charging out of the elevators into the main quarter of the Undercity. Mostly city guards fell victim to the rampaging dwarven army, but a few unlucky heroes of the Horde, who put up what fight they could, had gotten in the way. Once the upper and lower decks was cleared, we made our way to what our intel tells us is their Magic Quarter. After the guards were slain and lying a pile of rotting corpses, the King gave out orders.
“Set up positions on both sides. Dorsen! Take a few scouts and keep an eye outside.” The king shouted. Then he turned around and searched for one dwarf particular, “Brakka!”
“Aye sir!” Brakka came running up and saluted the King.
“Get teh work. Find it!” Bruenor ordered.
“Straight away meh King!” Brakka replied as he reached into his robes and pulled out a rune stone that Mcskinner had never seen before.
“Wat’s tha’?” Mcskinner asked.
“None of yeh damn business. Now get some pick axes and shovels and follow me!”
Mcskinner didn’t like the tone of the dwarf’s voice, but he was in no position to start arguing with anybody. So he grabbed a pick axe and a few other hands and they followed Brakka into the Ziggurat. Brakka walked slowly and kept a watchful eye on his rune stone. It glowed with a bright light as they got closer to the center of the structure.
“Here!” Brakka shouted, “Start diggin’!” he ordered.
The troops dug away at the center of the Ziggurat. Dwarvish yells and Forsaken screams could be heard outside. Now doubt unsuspecting travelers coming in by way of a portal were being caught off guard, and dispatched quickly. The whole got to be about three feet deep when Mcskinner heard a “clunk” at the end of his shovel.
“Careful yeh idiot! Bring it up now! And someone get teh King.”
The king came running in carrying a mighty hammer in each hand. As he strapped them to his back, Brakka handed him the chest they just dug up. The king opened it slightly and bright light shown through the small crack. He quickly shut it and turned to Brakka.
“Is this it! Are yeh sure!” he barked.
“Aye my King, I’m sure.” Brakka replied.
“Then quickly, use a portal and get back ta Ironforge and secure it away in teh vaults. Teh rest of yeh, get yeh arses outside and kill somethin. We can’t let ‘em know why we was here!”
Brakka stepped through his portal, chest in hand, as the rest of them made their way back out into the main area of the Magic Quarter. To their surprise, a force of some strength finally pulled together to root the Battlehammers out of their city.
The fighting was fierce. For the first time, in a long time, Mcskinner felt alive like he use too. The smell of blood, the sounds of axes and hammers breaking bones. Rifles and hand cannons picking off enemies form a distance. Mage spells cracking and popping and burning everything to dust, the King belting out orders as he smashes his great hammer into the skull of his closet enemy, troops yelling out their war cries. But it wasn’t to last, the enemy was too many. They rolled over us like the waves over the rock. We were defeated. Thanks to our most sneakiest of dwarves, Master Dorsen, our souls were once again reunited with our bodies, and we made the trip back home, and in the Clan Battlehammer vaults there sits a chest of unknown treasure, accept for the king and Brakka.
((Wonderful story! More!))
*Bordak thinks, aha!, a dwarf cornered! And one from Battlehammer!*
Hello, good Dwarf. How is your day?
*Bordak walks about nonchalantly. Eyes wondering about...*
So how is Iron Forge, wonderful place. Have you been to the front and seen the tall stone statue? Hmmm yes?
*Bordak springs the trap!*
Now tell me all about it! Does it comer to life every 1000 years on the half moon? One of your clan told me it did and now I need confirmation I have been looking and asking and searching for weeks now. *Deep breath*
I had an appointment with....bah! I am horrible with names unless I write them down and I carry no feather and ink as you can see....anyway, I had a duel, and was late therefore, and now I am asking you good sir because absolutely no one else knows...or will answer. I can't figure out which it is.
*Bordak eagerly looks at McSkinner, eyes wide hands held together.*
Tell me, tell me all!
Edited by Bordak on 2/13/2013 6:44 PM PST
BAH! That is exactly the same result I have got from every single dwarf I have talked to about this, except the one who set up the appointment with the ominous warning. And the one who told me. Both from that darn clan of yours I might add!
*Bordak stomps around the room.*
This is a conspiracy I say! You are playing dwarf mind games with me aren't you? Devious dwarven mind games.
*Deep breath. Begins to think of a plan.*
*Bordak mutters as he leaves the room.*
Getting information from a dwarf is like squeezing water form a rock!
Edited by Bordak on 2/14/2013 6:15 AM PST
*Walks back into room. Raises hands and beings to say something...*
Ehh never mind.
*Walks out again.*
a bit of time...
*Walks back in again.*
Listen, maybe you could point to the fine fellow who set up the appointment. Here, my name is Bordak. *slides a piece of leather across the table with a single word.*
I can be reached via mail in Stormwind, or if you are ever there, stop by, the dwarven district, naturally. I want to apologize for missing the appointment, but it was a formal duel.
*Pleased, Bordak walks out again.*
*Comes back for his cloak, and sword, and shield.*
Errr, forgot these.
*Smiles awkwardly and finally leaves.*
A ghost wolf trots towards Bordak, slowing its pace while transforming into a Dwarf. A few nervous glances over the shoulders before she speaks.
"I heard that bit about Dwarven mind games, could barely stifle my laugh enough to keep my cover. Turns out you were on to something though. There are old ways of learning new things you see."
A blank look comes over her face, then she eyes Bordak up and down.
"Mind games ya said, mind games. Not sure if your type would have the stomach for it, but with nothin more then a bit of that Dwarf's brains, or any of em from that Clan I'm guessing, I could play some mind games of my own. Drop a few bits in a bowl of water, look between the ripples the right way, and..."
An emptiness in her beady eyes as they dart left to right, she turns around and scans behind them.
"...and maybe there's other, better ways, but I ain't got the looks or patience to be seducing young Dwarves anymore, and you ain't overflowin with brilliance I'd wager."
She pauses, trying to read a reaction on the human's face.
"If ya got the stones to do what it takes to find out what them boys are up to, I just might be able to help ya. If ya don't, well then we never had this talk, unless of course ya want to be hoppin around Menethil as a toad until some gull swoops down and eats ya up."
She stop walking, hands turning blue with light before her departure through the twisting nether.
*Bordak, sweat streaming down his face over the old iron of the anvil, shakes his head. He's talking to man dressed in subtle leather.*
I should have caught onto this earlier. They aren't ready for the information to get out. It's something secret and no one does secret like dwarves. You ever tried to find a dwarf secret door? Ain't gonna happen...
*Bordak plunges the hot metal he is working into a pail of water next to the forge, cooling it. Wipes sweat out of his eyes, looking directly at the forgettable figure.*
But I think you are correct. I was onto something, that last dwarf, yeah, yeah the female, mentioned it too. Clan Battlehammer knows it, and other dwarves know it. Their actions speak more loudly than the words which never came. But after thinking...and you get time to think working the forge, let me say, the question is if it needs to be out in open, or if it's better kept behind hidden doors.
*Bordak looks at the dwarves around him and chuckles a bit.*
I grew up here, really. Well Westfall, but the forge, I mean. All these dwarves around us can hear us, maybe they care, maybe they don't. I think dwarves sometimes find human curiosity humorous. Theirs is driven by deeper motives, I guess. I don't know.
*Bordak shugs, turns back to the fire, picking up the cooled metal with some iron tongs.*
I'll tell you want my friend, maybe you figure something out, maybe you come looking for me, maybe we solve this riddle. But I'd need more evidence. And I am not sure what the Church wants to know this information for anyway. Or the Crown for that matter. There's something pushing back. I am not sure it is something bad. I think maybe some secrets should be let to lie. And I'll stick to that until I know otherwise.
*Bordak raises his hammer as the man in leather turns to leave walking into the smoke, fading slowly.*
*Thinking to himself, after a bit, he pauses....that last female dwarf seemed...off I guess, maybe working for someone...shakes head, probably just me. Bordak goes to back to work next to the other silent dwarven craftsmen.*
Edited by Bordak on 2/15/2013 9:44 PM PST
*Bordak, working the forges late, sits up abruptly.*
Could that mention of Menethil mean a meeting?
*Bordak look up into the clouded night.*
And ripples..something about frogs. The waters around Menethil Harbor?
*Ponders for a bit wiping his hands on his heavy apron.*
That word seduction...*rubbing chin*...so perhaps the meeting is meant for sometime during this celebration week: a week of love, and a week of seduction, sure.
*Bordak puts up his tools.*
This ain't going away so easily. One last check. I will have to head to Menethil tomorrow and give this a check. Probably a wild goose chase, Bordak you moron. But, well, you get your stubborn from your father don't ya...
*Laughing softly at himself Bordak leaves the forge to prepare for the trip tomorrow.*
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