Nivinar Radio

Moon Guard
While tweaking with the various channels on a communicator, it was easy to come across a strange interference that started with static and lead to what sounded like- a very bored female with a soft and cheerful voice. Upon listening further, it would seem the woman was broadcasting a story. Vital news? An attack? A new battlefield that needed attention?

And good evening everyone! We are back with the latest adventures of Nivinar the Pious and Grelgrim the- uh... Grim! Maybe he’ll get a better title later, only time will tell! Today’s journey starts in Red-Dead BADLANDS! The two start out their journey in New Kargath.

((From here on out, various voices will be used to denote the different speakers, but they will be marked as the speaker, so you’ll have to use your imagination, as you are listening to this.
Nivinar’s Voice: Her normal voice
Grelgrim’s Voice: Nivinar speaking in a dark deep “scary” voice
Bad Guy Voice: Throaty grumbly voices with various sound effects to denote evil.))

Nivinar: Grelgrim the Grim! We must get to Uldum and unearth the artifacts found there, as the Reliquary needs our help! We have to get more valuable things, because the Explorer’s League has a lot of those sort of things! And things should be fair, so that we can all learn from the past!

Grelgrim: Of course, Nivinar. That is why we are out here.

Nivinar: Right! So we must get there now, and liberate the items from the bad things inside Uldum! It’s a very scary place, full of terrible bad people that want to be selfish and not share their knowledge! What a terrible crime. The Light should teach them how to share.

Nivinar makes the noises that sound similar to getting onto a horse then taps on the table with open palms to make clip-clop noises. A crash in the background seems to end the clip-clop noise, followed by a muffled ‘oops’.

Nivinar: What was that crash! Did you hear it?

Grelgrim: It sounded like it came from inside the cave there. We better go investigate. Someone could be in trouble.

Higher pitched voice: Help! Help! A cave in! I am trapped! Save me, save me!

Nivinar: We better hurry! They sound like they could really use a hand.

Nivinar makes noises like heavy stones are being moved.

Bad guy voice: HAHA! I have LURED you into my trap, Nivinar the Pious! Now you’ll be trapped here forever and never get my knowledge! It can never be shared!

Nivinar: Oh no, Grelgrim! What do we do! I’ll ask the Light for help to give us the strength to overcome such a terrible foe!

Nivinar makes noises that sound like a battle. CLANK CLANK! OW! PEW PEW! GRAAAAAH! WOOOOOOSH. WooOOOOoOoO. No wait, that last one was too much like a ghost. CLASH! BOOOM!

Bad guy voice: Hark! I am injured! But I won’t go down so easily! I’m going to collapse this tunnel, so that everyone will die with me, and the knowledge will be lost forever!


A loud KAWOOOSH noise is made by the elf.

Bad guy voice: Hurk! Blargh! I am SLAIN by the PIOUS Nivinar. The Light wins again!

Grelgrim: We make a good team, Nivinar. I am proud of you. You are the best Light-person in the whole world. And maybe other worlds.

Nivinar: We aren’t done yet, Grelgrim the Grim! We must return this knowledge of the creators so that everyone can know! And then! We can have pancakes, I know how they are your favorite.

Grelgrim: I thought you said my favorite was waffles.

STAY TUNED UNTIL NEXT TIME! For the Adventures of Grelgrim the Grim and Nivinar the Pious!

(( Inspired by Fallout Radio, written very late in the morning! ))
Oh god, so damn cute. Minni would love her. T u T
12/12/2012 02:36 AMPosted by Nivinar
WooOOOOoOoO. No wait, that last one was too much like a ghost.
Lost it right there...
12/12/2012 06:48 PMPosted by Qinglila
You're fat.

You're skinny.
Nivinar is beautiful, thank you.
Stax was busy carefully tinkering with a horde communicator while he was sitting atop the unconscious form of a blood elven supervisor of the Reliquary near one of their digsites.

When he managed to tune in to a coherent station, he heard
"the Reliquary needs our help!" and froze, glancing around the minor digsite he was in. There was without a doubt elven bodies strewn every which way. None were dead, as senseless and quick killings weren't in his mood, but the spine of the less-than-cushy male he sat on was probably at risk of breaking if the human put all his weight into his seat. A good number of them managed to flee earlier, but he kept the leader of the excavation underneath his thumb -or in this case, rear end - while he tried to tune into their communications to track distress signals. Thinking he heard one such now, he listened on.

He raised a silent brow as he heard, " We have to get more valuable things, because the Explorer’s League has a lot of those sort of things! And things should be fair, so that we can all learn from the past!", followed by the noise of hooves. A sound he immediately associated with the dreadsteeds of the forsaken. As he heard the clip-clop noises, he dropped the communicator for a brief second as he spun around, sword-in-hand as he expected to see riders on the horizon.

While no riders were in sight, he readied his weapon to tackle a mighty foe or ready to hunt down the retreating elves. Instead he came face-to-face with... A toad. Tense as ever now, Stax focused his magic into his eyes - miniature hawks made of twilight magic - to search the skies. To his relief after several minutes, he found nothing headed toward his way, and made to collect the communicator he had dropped some time before, only to hear
"We aren’t done yet, Grelgrim the Grim! We must return this knowledge of the creators so that everyone can know! And then! We can have pancakes, I know how they are your favorite."

With a malevolent glare at the mechanical goblin-made device, he realized one of two things must have been possible: He was either never in any danger, or his dropping of the communicator scrambled the stations received. He decided to believe in the latter.

"Shoddy goblin craftsmanship" Were the quiet words the purple-armored man whispered into the air.
Poor Stax had a heart attack.
Is Nivinar the Sha of Happiness? find out next week on Azeroth Radio 1.

remember kids, Buy your emblems and support the soldiers in battle! 99s for a shiny gold emblem. Haxara the Goblin guarantees it's authenticity!
Broadcast #2

The small elf sat at her table and stared at the device for a long time in thought. Grelgrim didn’t think it was harmful, and wasn’t entirely sure it worked. As long as the elf was happy.

Welcome back listeners! You are just in time for story time! Isn’t that exciting? I’m going to tell you something called a fairy tale. My mother used to tell me fairy tales when I was very small and couldn’t sleep.

The Song Princess and the Troll-King

Once upon a time, in a land far far away there was a beautiful princess. She lived in a big beautiful castle, in the highest tower, in a room that was made entirely of big open windows and a balcony, so that she could see all of her land at the same time. While the very tippy top of the highest of the tower was a very lonely and scary place, the princess had to be there for the most important reason. You see, this princess happened to have the most magnificent voice ever heard by the ears of elf-kind. When she sang her morning song, the sun came up to greet her, wanting to listen to her song, and then at night, she’d sing her bedtime song and the sun would go to sleep, lulled by the soft sweet melody.

The moons didn’t always come for her voice, as they were very shy and often hid in the darkness of the sky. Sometimes, when she sang in just the right way, the moons would show themselves full face to the night world and light up the night. But, after that night, the moons would return to their normal shy self, gradually hiding themselves until they disappear to start the cycle over. The citizens that lived in the city below the castle, all rose before the sun woke for the day -just- to hear the lovely songs of the princess that they were so lucky to have. The enchanting voice of the princess spread in a magical way to all of the ears of good people, to start their day bright and happy with the sun, and then to put them to sleep at the end of the night.

But only good people could hear her voice. This of course made the troll-king very jealous. He sat in his large hut, surrounded by all of his people, all unable to hear the beautiful voice. That is, except for the children. Children are always born good, so of course, the children could hear the beautiful music. So each day the children would rise and dance to the song, and each evening the children would fall asleep to the beautiful lullaby. The troll-king dreamed of the song often, wanting to hear it again for himself. So he came up with a plan. He was going to steal the princess from her tower and make her sing for him!

No, but that wouldn’t work! His evil nature makes him deaf to the pure princess’s song. No, he had to do something else. But he didn’t know what he could do to make himself able to listen again. The troll-king made up his mind. He was going to find out how to make himself able to hear the song! He took a trip to the village witch-doctor, but even with his Loa-blessed wisdom, he did not know. Trolls had done many evil things in the past, changing the nature was almost impossible.

--- Continued--
So the troll-king set out on a journey, leaving his people behind. He promised that when he came back, the beautiful song would be heard by all trolls. The troll-king traveled for a many songless nights, trying to use darkness as his cover. Trolls weren’t very liked in the human kingdoms either, but he really needed the help. He went to the human kingdom of Dalaran, to speak to the wisest of humans. See, humans are very clever creatures! Even though they don’t live very long, they figure out a whole lot about the world.

The troll-king arrived at the very busy city and - even though he was a troll- for some reason no one bothered him! What an oddity! Peering around the city, he quickly figured out why. Everyone in this city was strange! People were casting various spells at one another to make each other very funny things like sheep or turtles. Some of the mages were turning themselves into other things, like murlocs or tigers- and even other trolls!

“Nice illusion! I don’t think anyone is quite that good!” One with a tall pointy hat said to him as he passed by.

“Yah, thanks mon.” The troll king replied, not really sure what else to say. “Mon, where do yah be thinkin’ I could find some information about da song princess.”

“Great accent too! You must have studied in Arathi. They get really up close and personal with trolls I hear. Song princess? Isn’t she just some Quel’dorei myth? Uhhh.” he paused in thought. “The wizard that lives in the third tower to the left of the Spire likes to study Azerothian myth. He could help you. When you get back, you’ll have to teach me that spell!” The mage continued to study the troll as the troll-king carefully backed away. Humans were strange.

He followed the direction of the human. Thankfully, he said three, because he only had three fingers to count on! Once he arrived at the tower, the wizard stared at the troll-king for a long time.

“Troll-king. I had not thought I’d be honored with such royalty this day.” This wizard wasn’t fooled as the other magi had been. No, this wizard was a wise old man that many failed to understand. “What can I do for you, King of Trolls?”

The Troll-king was taken aback by the discovery! And moreso- the reaction not involving fire!
“Wizard.” He began, hoping his long journey was not in vain. “I be wantin’ ta know about how I can bring da song of da song-princess to my people. As children, we be hearin’ it, and yah jus’ aren’t da same wit’out it.” He pleaded, hoping his story was enough to gain the help of this wizard.

“The Song Princess, hm? Yes, yes I have heard of such an elf. Sings the sun awake and puts it to sleep at night. I have heard only the good can hear her song. I think there may be a way to capture the song of the princess though. It won’t be easy. Are you sure you want to capture the song?” The wizard was more curious as to whether it could be done. He had once heard the beautiful melody of the Song Princess, but Dalaran was just too far away.

“Yah, I be sure, Wizard-mon. I be bringin’ da song back to da village for all da trolls to hear.” The troll nodded his head. The bones he kept in his hair jingled in a gruesome way.

“Well, there’s a few things you must do, and you have to do them in order. You must first steal the moon.”--

“Which moon?” The troll king interrupted, curious.

“Either moon. One has to disappear from the night sky, so that the people feel it’s loss. The Blue Moon might be easier, as it’s smaller. Then you must steal the sun from the sky. The people will plunge into darkness and the song will go unheard. I would do so at noon, when the sun is the smallest. When the song has no one to sing to, the people will despair and turn to darkness themselves. Then the princess will have no one to sing to, but the darkness. Once she does that, all can hear her song, as all will have darkness in their hearts. Then the sun and moon can be released.”

“Capture da sun...” He pondered. This -was- a great task! But he had to bring the song to his people, so that even trolls with evil nature could hear. “It will be done, for I am da Troll-king. Many thanks, Wizard.”

The troll-king set out from there to complete his task. The troll-king first had to capture the blue moon. To do this, he went to the ocean shore and took a boat out to the veeery edge of the ocean, where the blue-moon rose for the night. Since the moon was small, he captured it and put it into a bag. The people didn’t notice the moon being gone for a while, as the moons didn’t always rise with the song.

But as time went on, people began to notice, and question where the blue moon had gone. But life went on as it always had. So the troll-king started on the next part. He climbed to the very tip top of the highest mountain and waited for noon. When the sun was directly above him, he plucked it from the sky and placed it with the blue -moon in the bag. The whole world fell into darkness. Life tried to go on by the light of fire, but it just wasn’t the same. He returned to his land and waited to see if the wizard was right. Many days passed as the people lamented the loss of their beautiful sun. Each day made them more and more sad, and more and more angry. Soon, people began to misbehave, speaking ill of their friends and wishing horrors upon their foes. The good nature in the people began to slip away.

This made the Song-Princess very very sad. Her people fought and held a darkness in their hearts, and her Light-filled voice could not reach them anymore. There was no sun to sing to and the moons were both gone without the sun to follow. The Song-Princess began to sing a new song, one of sorrow. The people stopped their evil and wicked behavior to listen to the song. The song was so sad, it caused them all to weep and long for the beautiful songs she sang to come back.

And the Troll-King could hear this new song at last. It was so beautiful and tragic that he too wept. The whole troll-village wept at the sorrow of the Song-Princess. So it was time to release the sun and the moon to the sky again. He opened his bag and released them both.

And the most beautiful thing happened. The white moon missed her child companion so very much, that they embraced, aligning perfectly. And the sun was so happy to be back, that he lent his glorious light to the moons to make them shine brighter and fill the night sky with a beautiful radiance.

This was pure joy to the song-princess! Her song changed to a new beautiful melody as almost just as it was. This new song held a peaceful joy in it that sounded like the Light itself reaching out to the people- but no one could hear anymore. All the people held darkness in their hearts. This made the Troll-king furious! The wizard said he’d be able to hear!

But as he fumed and paced, the world became quiet as the embrace passed. And he realized, very very faintly, he could hear the song. He rushed back to his village with all the joy in the world, and announced that if they remained quiet, they could all hear! The troll village went silent, and they could! They could!

He went on to announce it to the people with darkness in their hearts, and they were so overwhelmed with joy, that they did not slay the Troll-king.

Because even when the world has fallen in darkness, there is always good that shines through. Even if that darkness plagues the heart itself. So if you are really quiet, and just before you go to sleep with the sun, you too can hear the song of the princess, singing the world to sleep.
WoW Niv. you sent shivers down my spine. Thank you.
Between his day jobs of research and selling enchanted trillium mood rings, and his nightly escapades into horde territory, Stax only gave casual glances to the 'liberated' communicator he kept with him. At around the time this no-doubt female source began again, he was just opening the doors to his shop in Ironforge. He had spent something close to a half-hour listening to the story that was still not yet done.

When it was nearing the end, the man knew he had no audience outside, most of the passerby staying in passing, but when one night elven male wandered up, clad in quietly-clinking mail that caused his nightstalker companion's ears to twitch constantly. Stax was quick to shut it off, keeping his lips tightly sealed to hide his distaste; Now he'd never hear the end of the story! As the night elf glanced around, he shot a dark look towards the human, before simply making his way out, presumably to continue whatever task set upon him.

Keeping his breathing even, the lone part-time shopkeeper realized that he hadn't been paying attention to the dialect of the speaker. He was fluent in the language of the self-proclaimed noble races, but his situations rarely allowed for him to analyze the actual voice itself. Now was no exception, for as he ran back in his recent memories, he only recalled bits and pieces about what he was hearing, instead only able to recall every detail of his surroundings, who heard what and where. He hoped his memory wasn't been fading, he was supposed to be in his prime, after all! Nonetheless with a cautious glance about, he saw he was alone and without risk of interruption. Spending a few long minutes to think of an excuse of why he'd have a horde communicator with him, he flipped the switch to the communicator to turn it on again, and heard only static.
I like reading Stax's reactions.
12/13/2012 01:27 PMPosted by Nivinar
I like reading Stax's reactions.

I figured you would.
Broadcast #3

Sorry listeners, that I’ve been away for so long! Things haven’t been going so well in the Highlands for the Horde. It’s fairly awful, really. There’s so many Alliance military groups that continue to cut our supply lines, and I’m really getting hungry. The latest report is one of the Horde controlled farms has been burnt to the ground. Grel went out to go hunting to bring back some food, so I’ll be alright listeners. It’s incredibly cold out up here, and leaving the fire has just not been an option for this elf. Today’s weather has been gloomy with a change of melancholy. It rains twice a day and somes that rain is frozen and hurts the skin, so stay indoors, Arathi Citizens! It doesn’t snow down in the Valley, but it does in the mountains, so if you are a mountain dweller, be prepared for some heavy snowfall. Actually, you probably know that, since it’s snowing right now in the distance.

Story time, Listeners!

The Garden of the Pious

Once upon a time, there was a village whose name had been long forgotten in the passage of time. It was said that this village was a gloomy place, lost to the world, for the sun could not see it. Even with the Sun’s great bright eye that spreads like a warm fire of life, this village was shrouded in darkness. The village people had been cursed you see, for the terrible vain lives they once led. In the prime of the village, they had more crops than they could eat, and more milk from their cattle than they could ever drink. It was a beautiful place that set cradled in a valley made by mountains. Fresh life giving water came from the mountain’s snow as it melted each year, forming the clearest lake the world ever did see. And the pride and joy of the village, was a beautiful garden that grew the rarest flower in the world. It was called the Light’s Grace, as it appeared as golden as the sun, and had the ability to heal any sickness when made into tea.

When people heard of this fantastic and rare flower, they climbed the mountains up, then climbed the mountain down to get to the isolated valley. They brought their sick and hungry to the special valley, each with hopes of finding a new life! They wanted to forget the pains of hunger and the touch of death spread by sickness. But the people of the village turned each traveler away! They kept the special flowers to themselves, saying only they were gifted with such a miracle. If the Light meant for others to have it, it would grow in other places! If the Light meant for them to have food, they would prosper! The villagers claimed that anyone who came to their village must be wicked and they must be the Light-Gifted people.

This strange cult went on for years, of considering themselves better than others. Soon, the myth began to spread and people began to believe it to be true. Certainly, they must be wicked and did not deserve the beautiful flowers, or to have such good things in the world. The people fell into an unimaginable sorrow, each wanting to repent for their wicked deeds. Many prayed to the Light, that they were deeply sorry for any vices they once had, and promised to be pious and faithful from there on out. That they would become the servant of the Light, and give everything they could. Soon, people brought their worldly goods to the Light-Gifted village and offered everything they had to the villagers.
The Villagers who thought themselves to be good and close to the Light accepted all these worldly treasures with open arms. After all, they deserved these things. They were the blessed ones! Before long, they had more wealth than anyone ever needed, and this only made them think more of themselves.

Before too long, word had spread to a great city that this village were the chosen people. Now this city was well known for it’s connection to the Light, and well known for sharing wealth and food amongst the people who needed it. So they sent a fairly young and new priestess to check on the village, to see why this village was so special. The young woman went out as she was told, thinking that this would help her on her journey to becoming a great confessor. She only wanted to spread the Light’s compassion with everyone who fell into pit of despair. She traveled through many small towns that had fallen into a sorrowful darkness because they felt wicked and undeserving.

But the young woman was a true child of the Light. When she walked through the villages, a feeling of hope and joy spread around her, as if the town was trapped in glass and she was the stone to shatter it. Along her journey, she made many stops to each town to restore the Light’s Hope within each person. She told them, that no matter how wicked they had become, the Light would always accept them for who they are. It did not judge, but embraced the living souls that thrived in the world. It did not know hatred, nor failures, but instead compassion and a warm embrace to all who welcome it into their lives. She taught the people to live good lives for themselves, and that was enough for the Light.

Eventually the end of her journey was near. She climbed the mountain up, and climbed the mountain down into the valley. The village did not welcome the priestess, as they welcomed no one without gifts, and told her she was not worthy to venture in this place. She simply smiled and asked them to tell her about the place, so that perhaps she could understand how to become worthy. They told her of the Light’s Grace flowers and how they were chosen as the true Gifts of the Light. The priestess never showed a single sign of irritation as they explained their wealth and how they deserved every bit of it.
Finally, they decided that the priestess could perhaps be worthy as she had not come for the flowers or wealth of the people. She stayed a night in the lonely inn that had perhaps never seen a single guest in it’s entire life. That night, she prayed for the Light to help the misguided children understand that they were falling down the wrong path. After she prayed, she went to bed for the night. The next morning, the sun did not shine upon the village. The people were baffled, but not worried. Surely the sun would come back. The priestess went on her way.But it did not. For weeks the Sun was gone from this place. The clear water lake began to freeze over without the sun to warm it. The cattle began to starve from the lack of grass, as it could not grow without the sun. And the crops withered and died, too cold to live. And last, the very last, the Light’s Grace died.

The wicked people prayed for many years for the sun to come back, and cursed it for forsaking it’s chosen people. Some became angry, and some fell into a dark depression. All the wealth they had was for nothing if they could not eat. Soon they spent the wealth to continue to feed themselves, until there was simply nothing left. It was then the priestess returned to the village, as she was a good woman and did not want them to starve. Each of the people fell at her feet and apologized for their behavior. They asked her to bring the sun back, and that they would share the riches they were blessed with, with anyone that came. They shared what little food they have with her and allowed her to sleep in the inn again. That night, she gathered everyone in the village, and prayed with them all for the sun to come back. The next morning, the sun spilled upon the valley, giving new life to the people once more. Before she left, the priestess made one final stop. She went to the barren garden where the Light’s Grace once grew. In her beautiful white dress, she leaned down into the dirt and mud and whispered to the ground. At once, a single Light’s Grace began to sprout and bloom.

The village from then on only knew compassion and the ability to share their gifts with the world after the priestess came. Never again would they take the Light’s gifts for granted, nor abuse the people who had very little.

Be kind to those who have little, and surely, you’ll be rewarded with the gift of charity.

That's all for now, Listeners! Stay warm and safe!

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