Chapter 1 – "Hold, Please…"
"Hold, please…"
It was a common enough refrain among players of multiplayer online battle arenas, or as Blizzard absolutely insisted on calling their entry in the field, a "Hero Brawler." With matches featuring no pause function, many found that kids needed attention, dogs had to relieve themselves, phones rang, packages arrived, or some other immediate task came up that took them away from the fight. Even with shorter bouts in Heroes of the Storm compared to its contemporaries, interruptions were inevitable.
"If I told them why, they wouldn't believe me…"
3D printing, most commonly fused filament fabrication in the consumer space, allowed the production of many trinkets that would have required expensive injection molding only ten years previously. Many "'90's kids" predictably went nuts with the idea that, as adults, they could make their own toys of all the sorts that simply did not exist during their childhoods. From custom Star Wars vessels to boredom busting puzzles, a competent user could make nearly anything within the constraints of materials and his/her machine.
It was all so innocent. Purchase 3D printer from a computer store, make a few statues of favored Heroes from the game, then apply knowledge gained from painting model tanks and battleships to make them look good. Nothing more.
The first few prints went bad—3D printing remained very much in the "kit car" stage. Finally, after quite a bit of fuss including half a roll of wasted filament, Sylvanas Windrunner began to take shape. A week of pained taping, painting, and minor repairs produced a figure approximately 14" tall.
Said figure was now doing far more than a simple voicebox-in-a-stand would lead one to believe it capable of.
Bash'a no falor talah!
Across the Internet, cats were legendary for sitting and walking on electronics, especially computer keyboards, much to the chagrin of the user. In this case, it would be more accurate to describe it as a cat-fight.
Small arrows left dents in the desk. Hands yanked away from the keyboard, suddenly cold as a dark wave passed over them. A swipe kept anything from actually hitting the computer monitor.
You cannot escape my wrath!
"Oh, but I can keep it away from my monitor!"
Sylvanas smirked, looking down at a defeated Valla who'd been whacked into a corner across the office.
"You may dress more appropriately for battle, but against someone five times your height…"
A cackle assaulted the ears of all present.
"Shut it, Windrunner, or I'll put you back in that box!'
Cocking her hips and giving a sideways glare, she retorted, "Don't you remember what happened the last time you made that little mistake?"
Being awoken at 2AM on a Tuesday by muffled screams, yells, and assorted noises normally associated with Heroes of the Storm was not something that would be easily forgotten.
Having printed a dozen characters, storage space became a slight issue, so thinking nothing of it, all but Valla were placed in a large hope chest at the foot of the bed. That was when it started. A cacophony of noise, light, and even snow (in the middle of summer no less)! Between the flames, weird dust, small gunshot noises, and of course various battle cries, nobody would sleep for long.
Hands pried the hope chest's lid open just in time to see Nova dissolve into blue mist. Flipping on two bedroom lights, self-pinching was in order.
"Am I dreaming?"
"You dare confine the Lord of Terror to this…this undignified box?"
"You not friend of Brightwing. I will very happily kill you!"
"You know, between zerg, protoss, and Tychus, I guess this isn't all that strange…"
Tired, the chest's owner flopped back into bed.
"What a weird dream…"