Disclaimer: I don't own warcraft. Warcraft is the property of Blizzard entertainment. The only thing I own in this story are my character Mahar and any OC's I may introduce.
Quick explanation of this. Basically me and my friend Scott have these world of warcraft characters. Miune is a tauren warrior and his is an undead mage. Were always coming up with bizarre situations they could get into. So anyway I was talking to him today and I've decided to write a series of shorts related to their insane exploits.
So anyway without further ado I present Mahar and Rommick in: Ratchet Ruckuss!
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Regarding the one sitting across from him dock worker Squee wondered, not for the fist time, why in Azeroth he had allowed Gazlowe's goons to talk him into this. Don't worry he had said, this one and his companion are more capable then they would seem he had said. Taking another look at this forsaken, what was his name again? Rommick? Yes that was it. He highly doubted that. In fact he had to fight the bile rising in his throat that came, not from the state of the filthy dockside tavern, but from Rommick's animated description on how to prepare one of his favorite foods, stewed cabbage maggots.
"And finally after taking the stew off the fire" continued Rommick, "you add just a touch of gloom weed. Hard stuff to get hold of what with all the flesh eating gnolls in the area but well worth it. The way it seems to make the maggots wiggle even more on the way down". Rommick smacked his lips at the thought. Whether it be from the description or the way it looked like the flesh was about to fall off the fellows throat Squee wasn't sure. Likely it was a little of both.
"Sounds delicious" Squee ground out.
Rommick, oblivious to the sarcasm, beamed at the goblin proudly. "Would you like to hear another one?"
"No thank you" said Squee. When he saw Rommick frown he quickly added "I should like to be able to remember the first in it's entirety".
"Oh" muttered Rommick, "fair enough".
Squee released a breath he hadn't knew he'd been holding. The last thing he wanted to do was set the unhinged undead off. "So" Squee said, "where's your partner? He's running late".
"Oh Mahar?" said Rommick waving his hand dismissively, "don't worry he should arrive at any moment. The big oaf has never let me down before".
As if on cue a loud crunch resounded through the tavern followed by an alarmed barmaid bolting for the back room. "That should be him now" Rommick said as he hoisted himself up. Squee followed suit and, upon rounding the corner, stopped dead in his tracks.
Standing in the doorway muttering half hearted apologies was one of the oddest tauren Squee had ever seen. He was just as big around as any he had ever seen but he was a full two heads taller then your average tauren giving him a somewhat comical look of being both wiry and bulky at the same time. Or he would have looked comical if not for the full set of spiked plate armor and worn tabard bearing the horde insignia that covered every inch of his body save his head. That would have been enough but strapped at the taurens waist was a mace larger then Squee's entire body, likely ten times heavier as well, and a huge vicious looking scimitar with a serrated edge. Rounding it off (and incidentally simultaneously ruining and heightening the taurens imposing stature) was the, now former, tavern door clutched in his right hand which the barkeep was busy chiding the Tauren for from a perch on the serving counter.
With the better lighting provided by the common room Squee also got his first good look at Rommick as he finally found his nerves and followed the undead across the room. Rommick was covered in several layers of tattered black robes over which he wore a filthy tabard displaying the emblem of the frost wolf clan. Matted green hair hung down his back and in his nonexistent eyes. Two leather straps bolted to the flesh of his head just added to the wild look of the undeads hair. His insane grin at spotting what was no doubt his best friend and bright red staff topped with a series of free floating multicolored gem gave Rommick the look of some sort of mad alchemist or enchater…which, if Squee was correct, wasn't just close to the truth, but bang on.
"Ah" rasped Rommick coming to a stop next to the tauren and pretending to tip a nonexistent hat, his grin growing wider thanks to a missing bit of flesh on his cheek, "good to see you on this fine day. Still causing inadvertent mayhem wherever you go I see".
Mahar's mouth snapped shut upon hearing Rommick's voice. He tossed the ruined door aside and, completely forgetting the irate barkeep, beamed down at Rommick before sweaping the undead up in a near bone crushing hug. "Rommick!" Mahar boomed after he had set his friend back down, "Good to see you again, still have all your limbs I see".
"Indeed" Rommick replied as he popped a disloacated shoulder back into place without so much as a wimper. Then again it was unlikely he could feel much of anything. "Though there is never any lack of trying to remove them on your part.
Mahar just laughed in reply. It was so loud that most of the patrons had to cover their ears. "So" he rumbled, "What's the story?"
"Squee here has some cargo he needs delivered to booty bay" Rommick said indicating the goblin.
Looking down at the goblin Mahar nodded and made a sweeping motion to indicate he should lead the way, knocking the still jabbering bartender square in the face sending the poor gobbling careening into a display of bottles behind the counter.
Squee just sighed when Mahar failed to even notice and headed out the hole in the wall that had formerly been the door with the insane duo in tow. This had been a long day and he was glad it was almost over.
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This was more of an intro then anything. Anyway tomorrow (or today now since it's 1 am) in honor of talk like a pirate day I'll post part two. Buccaneer Balderdash. And for those iof you who read my other fics a progress update is in order. The next chapter of deliverance is almost done along with chater two of white noise. So expect those by Friday or Saturday at the latest.