Chapter 2 : Surprise!
Dusted was sitting at a table, on the first floor, at a inn in the northern part of the city Ogrimmar. Here there, wasn't a lot of people, as at the other ones near the gate. He was a Goblin, he felt the inhabitants of this city, looked at him, in a way he really disliked. He was not new to the label as an outsider, and he was okay with it, really. So to keep a distance from other beings, he quickly learned the less crowded places to crash in. A guy, a red haired Troll, named Gravy, was attending the bar and serving the few costumers in this little wooden establishment. The inn-keeper was at the door, welcoming who ever snuck into this bar, that smelled of barrels and liquids. He took a sip from the ale in his mug, and looked at his demon companion. Azranix was a blue voidlord. Pretty much the silent type, and more for show, than pleasant accompanier.
Dusted spend a few minutes just looking at him, the voidlord stood still, like he had fallen asleep, or he brain just had stopped working. He picked up a peanut and threw it at him. It bounced of the head, just atop the bright white eyes. Azranix awoke from his daze and before the peanut fell to the floor, he had grabbed it and crushed it to a dusty paste. To his owners amusement, the sticky peanut paste stuck to his hand, shacking it wildly, like, if a slimy booger had stuck it self to his thumb. With a low growl, it gathered its hands in front of one another, and a purple flame of anguish melted the little green challenge on his hand. As if nothing had happened, he stood still once again, and seemed like a breathing statue.
❞You have to be my.. at least, my third worst date, ever!❝
Dusted looked at Azranix, and snapped his finger. The bluish demon fainted into oblivion from where he came with a fading swooshing sound. The event had gathered a few curious looks from down stairs. A Orc and a blood elf, sitting by a table in the opposite side of the inn, was looking up at him and watching it all happened. Dusted emptied the rest of his ale.
❞Yeah, the bitch wouldn't put out, I mean, at least give a little if I buy you a drink, right?❝
In reaction, by looking at their ales and returning to their conversation, it was clearly they didn't have a sense of humor. And he went down stairs and out the door. It was hot, dusty and noisy in the Valley Of Honor. An Pandaren monk was at the small red mailbox, just out side, checking a letter with interest. Dusted walked, semi jumped, down the steps and with a nudge bumped into the panda bear.
❞I'm so sorry, little too much ale, and my pet just broke up with me. So I don't feel all sane and in the right balance, you know.. Zen.. zone..❝
❞...❝
❞*Burp*❝
The Pandaren looked at him with a glare and scoffed. Dusted looked into the ground, as if he was embarrassed. Seemed like the monk bought his humbled and humiliated. He had parked his blue proto-drake in a corner to the right, behind the Inn and quickly walked to it. The big blue drake recognized him as he came closer.
❞I'm pretty sure there was a horse next to you. That Paladin inside the Inn came shortly after we did?❝
There was a dangling robe, hanging from the binders pole, slowly moving from side to side as the wind, played with it. Now the end was chewed off and four bloody hooves was all that was left, to tell the tale of a horse.
❞Really? I can't leave any of you unattended.❝
He gently patted the drake and whispered..
❞I'm so proud of you!❝
The evening air felt good and refreshing, as the drake roar upwards into the sky. When it had stabilized it self and was heading towards the northern Barrens, he pulled out the pouch with gold from under his robe, it smelled like its former owner, like dirty Pandaren. He smiled as he took the gold coins into his own container, and with both arms in the air, let go of the empty pouch. He watched as it got caught in the wind and fell down towards the south-fury river He circled the spot a few times as it faded closer and closer to the ground, and then continued his journey. The stars was bright as he headed into the harsh territory, The Barrens was Orc country, the few contestants to the ongoing war was mostly local wild life or the infernal Alliance. If there ever was a race dumber than Orcs, it had to be humans. Maybe Gnomes, he felt kind of sorry for them though, he knew the life of being short, so the second place had the be Elves. Dusted shivered in the cold night air. Humans and Elves, what a waste of evolution.
He flew past gigantic large razor sharp thorns, which roots twisted through the ground below. Home of the Razormanes. He had a few fond memories of Razormanes. Once with a group of friends, he had run into the camp at night, stealing artifacts and wands. The Razormanes Geomancers magic was useful, and could upgrade his own skills, as you kept practicing as a young warlock. The spikes on the tower at the crossroads was fading out of the darkness in front of him. Seemed like a good place to spend the night. The Kolkar Centaur clan was roaming the front lines at night, and he didn't feel like fighting the four legged freaks. The Tauren Boorand owned the Inn at The Crossroads, he knew Dusted as he often came to crash here, it was out in the open, and mostly visited by young adventures, who came to prove their worth. He would sit in the back, eating and over hearing tales from their 'grand journeys'.
Dusted was amused, but remembered his own upbringing, wasn't easy to be a hero in this world. If you didn't have the skills it takes, you would get chewed up, or clawed to death in a heartbeat. He had scars. Or so many, both from fair fights, and some from pure stupidity. We all learn differently, some a little slower than other. A Tauren and a Orc was trading deviate scales from the Waling Caverns. A good place to start, not a lot ever returned. It was said that the caverns was a place of dark magic and a serpent cult.
He bound the drake to a tree, far away from anyone else's mount, and headed towards the Inn. Someone already had two wolves at the usual stables. So to avoid another chewing, he placed the drake at safe distance. It wasn't always welcome to store mounts of his size at these small places. But Dusted loved his drake. The young adventures always starred at it, he even offered them to pat it, but once, a Troll druid just did something wrong. In return, to the horror of everyone, the dragon roared and chewed off his legs in front of everyone. As the screaming troll dropped to the ground, it sprayed him with blue toxin, melting the skin off the upper body and face, before swolloring the rest. It was super awkward. The druids friend got mad and threatening, and then the drake felt he was a threat too, and gave him the same care. It had cost Dusted hundreds of gold pieces to clean up the mess and not get banish from the area. After all, it wasn't really his fault. No one should ever touch another mans dragon, how come they didn't know better?..
He patted the drake and looked towards the smiths area. There was the Tauren head chief helping a young Orc melting copper bars. The sound of hammering and fire was a soothing sound. Civilized. He walked down the path to the Inn, inside was Boorand, talking to Larhka, who sold liquids. The Inn was fairly empty tonight. Larhka saw Dusted come in from the street and nodded his head in a greeting. Boorand turned and smiled.
❞Ah, I've been expecting you!❝
❞Good day, Boorand, how are you this fine evening?❝
The Tauren who was twice the hight of Dusted, patted him on the shoulder with his big hands.
❞I am very well, thank you. I just got some fresh meat roasting over the fire. Why don't you sit and I will bring you something!❝
Dusted smiled and squeezed his big Tauren finger.
❞That would be fantastic, dear friend. Thank you.❝
To the right was a small carving in the wall with a blanket, well fitting for his small body and typical his favorite place when he was at this Inn. Strings with beads hang from the wall, to spice up the place a bit, wasn't the most fantastic decor of all time, but it had a charming awkward feeling, and it was suiting him just fine. He threw his backpack into the corner, along with his pouch and sat down. The Inn smelled like roasted meat and sweat. Two pillows and a candle was all the luxuries in his little carving, It was not amazing, but he could sleep here and feel safe. The giant Tauren had never seemed to had any problems here, the Crossroads had guards, big dumb Orcs, but they were useful in fights. Boorand came towards Dusted with a plate of steaming meat and a mug full of Ale.
❞This smells amazing. Thank you.❝
Dusted took the plate and sat the mug down beside him and smiled at the big Tauren.
❞I do not have a lot of time to talk today, there has been sightings of the clan moving, every one is on alert tonight.❝
❞The clan? They wouldn't? This area is too well protected by the Orggies?❝
Boorand looked towards the entrance to the Inn, there was two Orcs in full armor out side, standing guard, Dusted noticed their looks gazing west more often than usually.
❞You are talking about the farms to the west, out side of the Crossroads?❝
Boorand turned his attention back to Dusted.
❞Yes, there has been sightings all day, the clan has been spying on the outskirt settlements. And that is not their normal behavior.❝
At that same moment, the guards started to yell, and the two guards standing out side began to run west. Dusted and Boorand looked at each other and ran to the entrance. Dusted grabbed his backpack and pouch and followed the Tauren with quick feet.
As he caught up to Boorand, he could see the flickering of fire and smoke in the horizon.
❞I will see if I can assist with anything!❝
Dusted ran to the drake that nervously stomped back and forth by the tree, and tried to swing the rope into its mouth and chew it, but the neck was too fat, and the robe kept hitting it on the jaw.
❞Are you serious? And where would you go without me?❝
The drake gave a series of minor roars and looked at him, as if he had completely understood the sentence.
❞Right, you are a fearless dwagon, so dangerous. You can't even get out of the hook in your collar.. How woul...❝
The drake hissed at him, then turned its head towards the tree. A cloud of toxic liquids hit the tree, the robe and some of the surrounding grass. Everything started to burn and melt, the rope fell flat to the ground, It all gave a sound, like boiling water.
❞Oh, okay.. So.. You were just being nice and played nice. Well.. I apologize!❝
He patted the dragon and strapped the backpack to the side of the saddle, then put the pouch inside his robe.
❞We need to move, the people need our assistance.❝
The mighty tree broke in on it self as the trunk began to melt inwards and tipped the balance. It fell over and blocked the road, as he took to the night sky. Clouds had gathered and the night had turned more dark than before. There was a smell of rain in the air. He liked it, natures way of washing away the filth of the world. On the surface anyway.
As they came near, he could see the clan had moved into the settlements and a war was going on, Orcs fighting Centaurs. Everything was in complete chaos, few buildings was on fire. In the distance he could see a Centaur, a bit bigger than the others and yelling orders.
❞So, how about we find you a new chew toy, boy.❝
He set a patch across the battlefield and towards the mystical Centaur in the distance. A arrow flew past him in a fairly close proximity with a angry hissing sound. He looked down and saw a few Centaur archers, that had spotted him.
❞Dammit, we need to move higher.❝
He kicked the dragon and pulled on the leather straps, the dragon took a lazy swing with the wings, but not fast enough. One arrow cleaved the saddle and broke loose the locking mechanism to the straps going under the dragon, holding the saddle in place. As the dragon took a new swing to gain altitude, the saddle moved and almost threw Dusted out in the air. He grabbed on to the handle in the seat, tipping the dragon which started to fly south east. They rushed over the Waling Caverns and further past the oasis.
❞Dammit, stop moving and get me down, you useless bag of scales!❝
The tree tops started to hit Dusteds feet, as they flew in an insane speed through the air, His hands began to slip as he struggled to hang tight. The sweat from pure panic and fatigue, made his tiny Goblin hands slippery.
One last branch lashed his ass and in pure surprise, he let go to protect the hurting area, with a scream like a little girl, he fell into the thin air and rushed towards the ground. He crashed through a tree and landed on a tent, which ripped open from the speed of his body and smashed into a pile of skin, cloth and thin wooden crates. Every part of the body hurt, and oh the smell, like something had died and laid eggs that had gone rotten. In a slow motion and moaning, he turned around, laying flat on his belly. He took a look around, the tent was damp and dark, only a faint moonlight came in the same way he had, only a moment before. Then he noticed, at the entrance to the tent, stood an Orc, with an axe in his hand, half opened the pelts that functioned as a door, and with a surprised look on his dumb green face.