Thursday, December 15, 2005

Dragons and Drama.

The evening before Darkhoof ventured out from Orgrimmar to assist some guildmates in collecting their Dragonheads. Emberstrife's thirst for heads is relentless. The team had already taken the Blue Dragon down in Winterspring and had proceeded on to Gadgetzan in Tanaris where we were to rendezvous and set out to the Chromatic Dragon.

Heading into the Auction House a small short person passed me. He was wearing very little in way of clothing. This could be due to the heat of the Tanarin Desert environment. Down the steps he went and up to the Auctioneer. Having done his business he turned to me. And waved. Ah ha! It dawned on me. That was our little spy we have secretly infiltrated into the Alliance. I nodded and whispered "Scram. You'll give yourself away." He laughed, in that incredibly annoying manner they do, and hearthstoned back from whence he came.

To be honest I'm not sure what inducements the Horde might offer such a race traitor. Positions at the right hand of Thrall or Sylvanus or Cairne Bloodhoof? I think not. How does one trust a deciever? I'm not sure where this little spy will fit in upon the Horde's victory over the mountains of Dun Morogh. Perhaps on a skewer roasting over the fire at the inn in Anvilmar. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. From whence he came he'll return for dinner. Perhaps with fava beans and a nice bottle of Chianti.

But, we Tauren are vegetarians. My Orcish alter-ego must have been asserting himself.

We slew the Chromatic Dragon and headed to the Swamp of Sorrows to slay the Green Dragon Somnus. And then at last we journeyed back to Grim Batol to once again take the Red Dragon's head.

After the head had been taken we began working on acquiring some red dragonscales. And then an Alliance Warrior rode past. Level 60 and at a high rate of speed. Three of us set off in pursuit. I'm not really sure what he was doing up there at Grim Batol. The keep's gates are sealed and the area surrounding it is lifeless. It overlooks the massive dwarven dam and perhaps he was enjoying a little bungie jumping? I know we must have interrupted his plans and prevented his securing himself to a tree or anchor because next thing we know this human warrior was gone. He'd jumped from the heights to his death below.

We rode back to the rest of our party and came across a Night Elf Priest. The Gods require twentyfive honor kills a week to maintain our ranks. In fact, distracted as I've been lately, I did not manage to hold on to a rank I'd earned back at level 49. It may be time for me to reenter the Battle Grounds and gain further Honor against the enemy again. Needless to say it was quickly only twenty four required for this week.

As anyone on a PvP server will know, where there is one enemy there are five. In a short moment a Human Rogue managed to get the jump one of our cloth wearers. He took the Mage, alas poor Yorick, but we caught the black clad one and bludgeoned his head into the grass. "Moooo. Are you happy now?" Restoring the Mage to life we again returned to our original task. A Chromatic Cloak appears to require 12 red dragonscales, and it takes hours to get even a handful of them.

After one such scale being acquired I looked up. Here was our mage, shielded, bouncing in a splash of arcane color, that Rogue hot on his heels again! The Dishonor of it! The Rogue was level 60 and our Mage 57. Nonetheless, the Rogue was quickly surrounded and his head reintroduced to the bloody grounds of Grim Batol. "And stay down!" Our Mage, brought near to death by the ambush, had cleverly hurt the Rogue, lured him to us, and survived the encounter. For the Horde!

The night was late and we all journeyed back to Orgrimmar for some well earned rest.

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