This is the first chapter of my fanfic. Don't hesitate to leave me reviews even if you don't like it, and if you want to correct my English, feel free! If you bring errors in my English to my attention, I will correct it. A friend and I got the idea for this fic and we've written the first chapter and the prologue together. Enjoy!


Chapter 1

George was peacefully walking in his quest to find a job on a beautiful, sunny afternoon. But not anywhere! G. Broombrush was walking near Stormwind City. Nothing abnormal, isn't it? If George wasn't a Forsaken, it would be normal, indeed…

Thinking that this little wood was very charming, he decided to take a little walk there. He had noticed an emerging phenomenon in the society of Azeroth: suddenly, strangers came to you and ask to kill the pig of the neighbours because he trumpled on their pumpkins. He hoped to find some good opportunities, to make money and, one day, to live very far of his housemates.

Because, between a moron human, a kleptomaniac goblin, a sticky blood elf and several others, the odds weren't really with him… Above all, the others treated him like their personal slave.

George was totally absorbed in his most private thoughts, when something, hard, cold and noisy hit him (or rather, George hit the thing). He took a step backwards, a bit groggy, and found himself in front of a mountain of muscles in a blue armor. That was looking with a murderous gaze. He was taken by the collar and dragged a few meters before landing with his nose inches away of beautifully polished boots. He barely had time to admire this artwork before he was taken back to reality by the voice of the owner of the boots.

-Why did you bring this little green cockroach to me? You should have crushed him on the spot!

The guard who had dragged George there answered:

-I thought you would like to interrogate him about the plans of the Forsaken. And he smells like coconut. That's strange for an undead. Most of the time they smell like rotten eggs…

-Bah, this fool hasn't enough brain to fill the gap in your head. So, let's say he's not a genius. Execute him. And try not to leave dirt on the soil of MY forest.

George, who didn't listen to the conversation, but thought that Varian looked very sympathic and had very beautiful boots, struggled to get up.

-Do you need a gardener, sir?

That got him astonished gazes from the assembly.

-Are you kidding me? Do you really think I'll accept a little cockroach like you as gardener?

-Heuu… Pliiiize?

-No, no, no!


Author's note: You won't have to read the whole conversation. Let's say that Varian was so bored by George's poor attempts that he accepted to give him a job as public gardener in Stormwind City, on one condition: always being accompanied by two guards.


Suddenly noises were heard in the bushes around and a blond blood elf appeared. George looked totally taken aback.

-A… Arastan? How did you find me?

-Well… it wasn't hard, I followed you. You didn't think I would let you go with your hand?

The elf walked closer to George with a desperate look in his green eyes.

-Please, George, Genevra is chasing after me again, I'm terrified!

He spoke with a tiny, trembling voice, looking around with frightened eyes. Taken by pity, George snatched his hand and gave it to Arastan who hugged it like a plushe.