The Most Dangerous Game
Last year for NaNoWriMo some of my friends wanted to write. I told them I'd help motivate them by writing too, so we could each share our stories. But what, I wondered, should I write? Something that can be cool or silly depending on my mood. Something with some of my old story characters and new characters for challenge. And thus I devised a backstory for Zencroth, my World of Warcraft undead warlock. I've kept up with the story, writing on and off as the mood takes me, and I've gone from Patch 1.10 to 3.1 in the game so far. Here is a non-plot interlude that I thought was amusing.
Dramatis Personae
Vanato, a Tauren Druid, capable of shapeshifting into various animals
Doughnut, a luckless human paladin, of late poorly disguised as an orc
Various other Northrend creatures
The Most Dangerous Game
Vanato swiped a huge paw across his opponent, a fierce Dreadsaber, and growled with satisfaction as it fell. He’d seen Sholazar Basin while flying above Nexus, trying to comprehend the enormity of Malygos’ death, and immediately detoured for it. Such a place was a paradise of nature. Vanato knew snow and ice were just as much a part of nature as tropical plants and jungle life, but deep down he admitted to himself that he preferred the latter. He spent hours flying around the trees, noticing the odd shiny pillars, and in all that time he saw no sign of humans. Everything was flora and fauna. It seemed unlikely, but he dared to hope that he’d found a pristine wilderness. He had big plans for it. He could contact the Northrend branch of the Cenarian Circle, the Cenarian Frostbiters, and work with them in investigating the area. They could be careful who they let in. Only those with the utmost respect for nature would be allowed, those who could appreciate the mysterious of the animals, the secrets of the plants, and the immense variety of blessings the Earthmother bestowed.
KRA-POW!
Vanato jerked to the side as the sound of a rifle echoed through the jungle. He turned. There behind him stood a dwarf, but not just any dwarf. No, this was Hemet Nesingwary, a dwarf among dwarves, known and respected (or hated) as the most courageous (or foolhardy) big game hunter in Azeroth. Vanato gathered his energy and prepared to shapeshift into a Tauren. No doubt Hemet had mistaken him for a gigantic bear and taken a quick shot.
KRA-POW!
Another gunshot echoed, this one from the right. Hemet had friends! The bullet missed Vanato, richoched off a rock, and hit a tree limb. Vanato looked up just in time to see the limb drop on his head.
***
“Well! I dinnae often say this, but I’m impressed!” Hemet said, laughing. “I thought ye’d have gone fer the beast, as I did. But a true hunter knows his surroundings and uses them well. That branch knocked him out cold!”
“Yes, well, it seems to have worked out” replied Doughnut, Hemet’s latest apprentice. His orc mask was gone, and his red-painted armor had been replaced with an assortment of random junk he’d picked up and hidden when no one was looking, but he still had his hammer. “Are you sure it’s a bear?” Doughnut asked. “What if it’s a druid?”
“Bah, use yer senses, fool!” Hemet snorted. “There ain’t been bear druids around since Outland, everyone knows that! But regular bears, ah, that’s another story. Did ye know there’s a place up here with so many bears, they actually call it Grizzly Hills? Too easy, I thought, then I heard o’ this place. Now this is more my speed! Dangerous beasties everywhere I look, and only ye and I have found it!” Hemet started toward the bear.
Suddenly the bear leaped up. It looked around wildly, snorted, then let out a bellowing roar. It fixed Hemet with a baleful stare and began to growl.
“Uh, Hemet?” asked Doughnut.
“Yeah, laddie?”
“I think it’s still alive.”
“Och, really? Ye do, do ye? Well, good of ye to tell me. I wasnae sure myself.”
“Should I shoot it again?”
“Boy, what’s Rule Number 1?”
“Um… Don’t Point the Gun At Hemet?”
“The other Rule Number One.”
“Um… When In Doubt, Shoot?”
“Aye lad!”
Doughnut took aim. But before he could fire, the bear turned and charged him down. He shrieked in fear and dove for the underbushes. The bear skidded to a stop and turned, ready to charge the prone figure.
KRA-POW!
Hemet’s gun echoed. This time the bullet actually hit the bear, high in the left rear haunch. The bear let out a roar of pain and anger and charged Hemet. Hemet took off running. Doughnut, seeing this, got up and gave chase as well.
They dashed through the jungle for a short time, and then they came to a sluggish river. Hemet quickly grabbed a low hanging vine and swung across the river. The bear simply plowed through the water, splashing rocks and fish in equal measure. Doughnut hopped from log to log, but when he was halfway across the river the log he was standing on turned to look at him. His mind flashed back to wandering through the Wetlands, where cunning crocolisks lay half-submerged under the water, ready to take an unwary traveler. Doughnut made a flying leap for the other shoreline, and he made it, but not before the crockolisk tore a hole in the back seat of his pants.
“How the heck did it do that?” he asked himself as he ran. “Those are mail!” He glanced behind to see the crocolisk had left the water and was waddling after him deceptively fast. He ran on.
Up ahead Hemet emerged onto a broad plain. There he saw several Shardhorn Rhinos grazing peacefully. Hemet quickly came up with a brilliant plan. He aimed for one grazing rhino, took a running leap, and landed on its broad back. The rhino snorted and turned around. But instead of seeing Hemet, who had climbed to the top of the rhino, it saw a charging bear with murder in its slightly glazed eyes. While the rhino was almost twice as big as the bear, it’s tiny rhino brain immediately translated the bear’s fury into added size, and the rhino turned and ran. Hemet clung to the top of the rhino’s hump, yelling wildly.
“Now THIS is what I call a hunt!” he said.
A tickbird that had been parched on the rhino’s horn got dislodged, and it flew into the air. It’s short wings could only keep it aloft for a short time, then it began to fall. It happened to land on the shoulder of Doughnut, who was still chasing the bear and running from the crocolisk.
***
The Frenzyheart and the Oracles stood in two large groups, each glaring at the other, but neither side engaged in violence. This was a nearly unprecedented event, and would’ve been huge news had anyone else been there to see. The reason for this unnatural calm was the two captives between the group: a young Frenzyheart and a young Oracle. The Frenzyheart was barking angrily at both groups.
“You wrong! Me love Jules!” he said. “Her eyes so pretty! You no can say our love wrong!”
The Oracle too was exhorting the group. “Why we must fight always?” she asked plaintatively. “My Romulo like fights, but only with dangerous beasts! He no like fighting Oracles!”
“This go against all teachings” an old Frenzyheart said.
“My companion speaks truly” an elder Oracle agreed. “A union of our two peoples cannot ever come to pass. And so with sadness we must execute you.”
“It for the best” the Frenzyheart said. “Cheer up. This make great myth. We tell stories about you two for years!”
“We tell stories to our children!” Romulo barked. The assembled Frenzyheart growled.
“Romulo, me scared” said Jules.
Romulo put a paw around her shoulder. “They no can separate us” he said comfortingly. “They only can kill us.”
Every single Frenzyheart and Oracle was watching the pair closely. And yet, despite this, years later no two individuals could agree on what they saw. But the effects were beyond dispute: the two young ones were gone, and the Frenzyheart and the Oracles weren’t going to let them get away that easily.
***
“Well, hello there!” Hemet said. “My name’s Hemet Nesingwary. Who might ye be?”
“Me Romulo!” the Wolvar pup said, clinging to the rhino’s back. “This some fun!”
Jules nodded, her eyes gleaming. “Me not know me can jump so high” she said. “Me glad me can. Go on fun ride with Romulo and beard monster!”
***
Doughnut cursed as the bird pecked at his hair. “Leave me be!” he said, waving his arms wildly. This didn’t dislodge the tickbird, but it did distract Doughnut so that he didn’t watch where he was going. He heard a sickening crunch and glanced down. He had stepped into a nest and accidently squashed a large egg. Turning around he saw a longneck grazer bending its long neck down to look at him. It blinked once, twice, and Doughnut was off, as was the giraffe in pursuit.
***
Hemet as his improvised mount cruised southward through the Borean Tundra, territory more familiar to him.
“I’ll take ye to Valiance Keep, ye can do what ye want there” he said, sniffing. “True love should always win in tha end!”
“Thank you, Beard Monster!” Romulo said.
“Oooo, what are those?” Jules asked, pointing to a herd of mammoths beside the road.
“Those be mammoths” Hemet replied. “Right big beasts, but ugly, and their meat tastes horrible. Some say they’re a challenge, but I say if it’s not tryin’ ta eat ya it’s not enough o’ a challenge.”
“I wanna see!” Jules said, and she leaped off the rhino and began hopping toward the mammoths.
“Hold up there, murlocky girl!” Hemet cried, and he dug his heels into the rhino. The rhino slowly swung around toward the herd of mammoths. The herd immediately scattered. Jules jumped onto a mammoth and whispered something in its elephantine ears. Perking up, the mammoth turned toward the rhino and waved its trunk.
“Come, Romulo, we ride on this one!” said Jules. “Mammoth more romantic than rhino.”
“Me not even married and already henpecked” Romulo grumbled, then leaped onto the mammoth.
“Neat trick!” said Hemet as he turned the rhino southward once again.
Jules turned and called out for the herd to follow. She didn’t want her poor mammoth to be lonely when they reached Beard Monster’s home.
***
Doughnut lost track of Hemet’s rhino as it plunged into the herd of mammoths, but soon saw it take to the road again. Winded, he still managed to run on. He remembered his training as a paladin. “Justice runs really fast” he said. Then he felt the ground begin to shake.
“No way” said Doughnut. “I’m not turning around. Things can’t possibly be worse than they already are.” And yet he looked anyway, in time to behold the entire mammoth herd assembled and closing in on him.
Doughnut learned that sometimes Justice runs REALLY fast.
***
“Something comes” said one druid to another.
“What do you sense, Runs With Bunnies?”
“I sense animals running in confusion, Dances With Squirrels.”
“I sense more than that” said a third druid.
“What do you sense, Speaks With Trees?”
“I sense the Extinctinator.”
The other two druids gasped. “He finally dares show his face!” Dances with Squirrels said. “We shall bring him to justice!”
Speaks With Trees nodded slowly. “Rise up, my brethren. Rise up, for now is the hour of DHETA. The Tundra shall be red today, red with the blood of Hemet Nesingwary!”
“Death to the killer!” the druids yelled.
“He is coming” said Speaks With Trees. “No doubt he goes to Valiance Keep. He must come to this crossroads. When he does, we shall have him.”
The other druids nodded. They had waited a long time for this, and they were well prepared for it.
But they were not prepared at all as Hemet came charging down the road on the back of a rhino.
“Why isn’t he shooting it?” asked the youngest druid, Listens To Rocks. “Maybe he isn’t as bad as we thought?”
“Listens To Rocks, you are hereby cast out of DHETA for your blasphemous remarks. Leave us and never set foot on this Tundra again! The rest of you faithful members of DHETA, CHARGE!” And charge they did, somewhat belatedly, so they ended up charging behind a running man.
“Who is that paladin with the tickbird?” Runs With Bunnies asked.
“I do not know, maybe he’s a friend of Hemet’s”
“No, then he would’ve eaten the bird.”
“Maybe he’s come for justice too!”
***
South of the crossroads a dozen trappers looked up and saw the legend riding in their midst. They too were stunned by the display, but then a goblin raised his voice and called out, “I was promised a set of steak knives!”. That was all it took. They too were running, just behind the druids of DHETA.
***
Mathriel sighed as she blasted yet another Nerubian to ashes. It seemed like she’d been fighting for days with no end in sight. “Isn’t there anything in this land besides these damn bugs?” she yelled. Then she felt the ground trembling.
“The Sourge masses for another assault!” cried the captain.
“Nay, tis not the Scourge!” said the lookout. “Something approaches from the west!”
“What is it?”
“I… have no idea!”
Hemet came roaring in on his rhino, laughing and yelling and firing his gun wildly at the gathered Scourge. “Close the gate after I get in!” he called, and the guards hurriedly started closing it. Mathriel and the other Alliance fighters quickly retreated inside. Hemet and his rhino made it through, as did the bear and the first mammoth, then the gate slammed shut. The rhino skidded to a stop, its way barred by walls of stone, and the bear ran heavily into its legs. The bear sat down, shook its head, and looked around. For a moment it shimmered, then turned into a male Tauren with a huge lump on his forehead. “What… where am I?” he asked groggily.
Jules hopped on the mammoths back with glee. “Again, again!” she cried.
***
Doughnut too ran into something: the outside of the gate. He hit it with his entire body just as it slammed shut. Breathing heavily, he slowly turned around. Charging at him were seven insane druids dressed in tribal furs, a dozen filthy hunters clutching poached skins, a herd of mammoths, a large group of murlocs, an equally large group of wolf-men, an enraged giraffe, and a crocolisk. The crocolisk still had a chunk of chain mail in it’s mouth. There was also a badly wounded dreadsaber bleeding from several deep scratches.
Doughnut turned to the tickbird on his shoulder. “Looks like this is the end of the road” he said. The tickbird pecked his head. “All I want to know is, where’d the dreadsaber come from?”
Dramatis Personae
Vanato, a Tauren Druid, capable of shapeshifting into various animals
Doughnut, a luckless human paladin, of late poorly disguised as an orc
Various other Northrend creatures
The Most Dangerous Game
Vanato swiped a huge paw across his opponent, a fierce Dreadsaber, and growled with satisfaction as it fell. He’d seen Sholazar Basin while flying above Nexus, trying to comprehend the enormity of Malygos’ death, and immediately detoured for it. Such a place was a paradise of nature. Vanato knew snow and ice were just as much a part of nature as tropical plants and jungle life, but deep down he admitted to himself that he preferred the latter. He spent hours flying around the trees, noticing the odd shiny pillars, and in all that time he saw no sign of humans. Everything was flora and fauna. It seemed unlikely, but he dared to hope that he’d found a pristine wilderness. He had big plans for it. He could contact the Northrend branch of the Cenarian Circle, the Cenarian Frostbiters, and work with them in investigating the area. They could be careful who they let in. Only those with the utmost respect for nature would be allowed, those who could appreciate the mysterious of the animals, the secrets of the plants, and the immense variety of blessings the Earthmother bestowed.
KRA-POW!
Vanato jerked to the side as the sound of a rifle echoed through the jungle. He turned. There behind him stood a dwarf, but not just any dwarf. No, this was Hemet Nesingwary, a dwarf among dwarves, known and respected (or hated) as the most courageous (or foolhardy) big game hunter in Azeroth. Vanato gathered his energy and prepared to shapeshift into a Tauren. No doubt Hemet had mistaken him for a gigantic bear and taken a quick shot.
KRA-POW!
Another gunshot echoed, this one from the right. Hemet had friends! The bullet missed Vanato, richoched off a rock, and hit a tree limb. Vanato looked up just in time to see the limb drop on his head.
***
“Well! I dinnae often say this, but I’m impressed!” Hemet said, laughing. “I thought ye’d have gone fer the beast, as I did. But a true hunter knows his surroundings and uses them well. That branch knocked him out cold!”
“Yes, well, it seems to have worked out” replied Doughnut, Hemet’s latest apprentice. His orc mask was gone, and his red-painted armor had been replaced with an assortment of random junk he’d picked up and hidden when no one was looking, but he still had his hammer. “Are you sure it’s a bear?” Doughnut asked. “What if it’s a druid?”
“Bah, use yer senses, fool!” Hemet snorted. “There ain’t been bear druids around since Outland, everyone knows that! But regular bears, ah, that’s another story. Did ye know there’s a place up here with so many bears, they actually call it Grizzly Hills? Too easy, I thought, then I heard o’ this place. Now this is more my speed! Dangerous beasties everywhere I look, and only ye and I have found it!” Hemet started toward the bear.
Suddenly the bear leaped up. It looked around wildly, snorted, then let out a bellowing roar. It fixed Hemet with a baleful stare and began to growl.
“Uh, Hemet?” asked Doughnut.
“Yeah, laddie?”
“I think it’s still alive.”
“Och, really? Ye do, do ye? Well, good of ye to tell me. I wasnae sure myself.”
“Should I shoot it again?”
“Boy, what’s Rule Number 1?”
“Um… Don’t Point the Gun At Hemet?”
“The other Rule Number One.”
“Um… When In Doubt, Shoot?”
“Aye lad!”
Doughnut took aim. But before he could fire, the bear turned and charged him down. He shrieked in fear and dove for the underbushes. The bear skidded to a stop and turned, ready to charge the prone figure.
KRA-POW!
Hemet’s gun echoed. This time the bullet actually hit the bear, high in the left rear haunch. The bear let out a roar of pain and anger and charged Hemet. Hemet took off running. Doughnut, seeing this, got up and gave chase as well.
They dashed through the jungle for a short time, and then they came to a sluggish river. Hemet quickly grabbed a low hanging vine and swung across the river. The bear simply plowed through the water, splashing rocks and fish in equal measure. Doughnut hopped from log to log, but when he was halfway across the river the log he was standing on turned to look at him. His mind flashed back to wandering through the Wetlands, where cunning crocolisks lay half-submerged under the water, ready to take an unwary traveler. Doughnut made a flying leap for the other shoreline, and he made it, but not before the crockolisk tore a hole in the back seat of his pants.
“How the heck did it do that?” he asked himself as he ran. “Those are mail!” He glanced behind to see the crocolisk had left the water and was waddling after him deceptively fast. He ran on.
Up ahead Hemet emerged onto a broad plain. There he saw several Shardhorn Rhinos grazing peacefully. Hemet quickly came up with a brilliant plan. He aimed for one grazing rhino, took a running leap, and landed on its broad back. The rhino snorted and turned around. But instead of seeing Hemet, who had climbed to the top of the rhino, it saw a charging bear with murder in its slightly glazed eyes. While the rhino was almost twice as big as the bear, it’s tiny rhino brain immediately translated the bear’s fury into added size, and the rhino turned and ran. Hemet clung to the top of the rhino’s hump, yelling wildly.
“Now THIS is what I call a hunt!” he said.
A tickbird that had been parched on the rhino’s horn got dislodged, and it flew into the air. It’s short wings could only keep it aloft for a short time, then it began to fall. It happened to land on the shoulder of Doughnut, who was still chasing the bear and running from the crocolisk.
***
The Frenzyheart and the Oracles stood in two large groups, each glaring at the other, but neither side engaged in violence. This was a nearly unprecedented event, and would’ve been huge news had anyone else been there to see. The reason for this unnatural calm was the two captives between the group: a young Frenzyheart and a young Oracle. The Frenzyheart was barking angrily at both groups.
“You wrong! Me love Jules!” he said. “Her eyes so pretty! You no can say our love wrong!”
The Oracle too was exhorting the group. “Why we must fight always?” she asked plaintatively. “My Romulo like fights, but only with dangerous beasts! He no like fighting Oracles!”
“This go against all teachings” an old Frenzyheart said.
“My companion speaks truly” an elder Oracle agreed. “A union of our two peoples cannot ever come to pass. And so with sadness we must execute you.”
“It for the best” the Frenzyheart said. “Cheer up. This make great myth. We tell stories about you two for years!”
“We tell stories to our children!” Romulo barked. The assembled Frenzyheart growled.
“Romulo, me scared” said Jules.
Romulo put a paw around her shoulder. “They no can separate us” he said comfortingly. “They only can kill us.”
Every single Frenzyheart and Oracle was watching the pair closely. And yet, despite this, years later no two individuals could agree on what they saw. But the effects were beyond dispute: the two young ones were gone, and the Frenzyheart and the Oracles weren’t going to let them get away that easily.
***
“Well, hello there!” Hemet said. “My name’s Hemet Nesingwary. Who might ye be?”
“Me Romulo!” the Wolvar pup said, clinging to the rhino’s back. “This some fun!”
Jules nodded, her eyes gleaming. “Me not know me can jump so high” she said. “Me glad me can. Go on fun ride with Romulo and beard monster!”
***
Doughnut cursed as the bird pecked at his hair. “Leave me be!” he said, waving his arms wildly. This didn’t dislodge the tickbird, but it did distract Doughnut so that he didn’t watch where he was going. He heard a sickening crunch and glanced down. He had stepped into a nest and accidently squashed a large egg. Turning around he saw a longneck grazer bending its long neck down to look at him. It blinked once, twice, and Doughnut was off, as was the giraffe in pursuit.
***
Hemet as his improvised mount cruised southward through the Borean Tundra, territory more familiar to him.
“I’ll take ye to Valiance Keep, ye can do what ye want there” he said, sniffing. “True love should always win in tha end!”
“Thank you, Beard Monster!” Romulo said.
“Oooo, what are those?” Jules asked, pointing to a herd of mammoths beside the road.
“Those be mammoths” Hemet replied. “Right big beasts, but ugly, and their meat tastes horrible. Some say they’re a challenge, but I say if it’s not tryin’ ta eat ya it’s not enough o’ a challenge.”
“I wanna see!” Jules said, and she leaped off the rhino and began hopping toward the mammoths.
“Hold up there, murlocky girl!” Hemet cried, and he dug his heels into the rhino. The rhino slowly swung around toward the herd of mammoths. The herd immediately scattered. Jules jumped onto a mammoth and whispered something in its elephantine ears. Perking up, the mammoth turned toward the rhino and waved its trunk.
“Come, Romulo, we ride on this one!” said Jules. “Mammoth more romantic than rhino.”
“Me not even married and already henpecked” Romulo grumbled, then leaped onto the mammoth.
“Neat trick!” said Hemet as he turned the rhino southward once again.
Jules turned and called out for the herd to follow. She didn’t want her poor mammoth to be lonely when they reached Beard Monster’s home.
***
Doughnut lost track of Hemet’s rhino as it plunged into the herd of mammoths, but soon saw it take to the road again. Winded, he still managed to run on. He remembered his training as a paladin. “Justice runs really fast” he said. Then he felt the ground begin to shake.
“No way” said Doughnut. “I’m not turning around. Things can’t possibly be worse than they already are.” And yet he looked anyway, in time to behold the entire mammoth herd assembled and closing in on him.
Doughnut learned that sometimes Justice runs REALLY fast.
***
“Something comes” said one druid to another.
“What do you sense, Runs With Bunnies?”
“I sense animals running in confusion, Dances With Squirrels.”
“I sense more than that” said a third druid.
“What do you sense, Speaks With Trees?”
“I sense the Extinctinator.”
The other two druids gasped. “He finally dares show his face!” Dances with Squirrels said. “We shall bring him to justice!”
Speaks With Trees nodded slowly. “Rise up, my brethren. Rise up, for now is the hour of DHETA. The Tundra shall be red today, red with the blood of Hemet Nesingwary!”
“Death to the killer!” the druids yelled.
“He is coming” said Speaks With Trees. “No doubt he goes to Valiance Keep. He must come to this crossroads. When he does, we shall have him.”
The other druids nodded. They had waited a long time for this, and they were well prepared for it.
But they were not prepared at all as Hemet came charging down the road on the back of a rhino.
“Why isn’t he shooting it?” asked the youngest druid, Listens To Rocks. “Maybe he isn’t as bad as we thought?”
“Listens To Rocks, you are hereby cast out of DHETA for your blasphemous remarks. Leave us and never set foot on this Tundra again! The rest of you faithful members of DHETA, CHARGE!” And charge they did, somewhat belatedly, so they ended up charging behind a running man.
“Who is that paladin with the tickbird?” Runs With Bunnies asked.
“I do not know, maybe he’s a friend of Hemet’s”
“No, then he would’ve eaten the bird.”
“Maybe he’s come for justice too!”
***
South of the crossroads a dozen trappers looked up and saw the legend riding in their midst. They too were stunned by the display, but then a goblin raised his voice and called out, “I was promised a set of steak knives!”. That was all it took. They too were running, just behind the druids of DHETA.
***
Mathriel sighed as she blasted yet another Nerubian to ashes. It seemed like she’d been fighting for days with no end in sight. “Isn’t there anything in this land besides these damn bugs?” she yelled. Then she felt the ground trembling.
“The Sourge masses for another assault!” cried the captain.
“Nay, tis not the Scourge!” said the lookout. “Something approaches from the west!”
“What is it?”
“I… have no idea!”
Hemet came roaring in on his rhino, laughing and yelling and firing his gun wildly at the gathered Scourge. “Close the gate after I get in!” he called, and the guards hurriedly started closing it. Mathriel and the other Alliance fighters quickly retreated inside. Hemet and his rhino made it through, as did the bear and the first mammoth, then the gate slammed shut. The rhino skidded to a stop, its way barred by walls of stone, and the bear ran heavily into its legs. The bear sat down, shook its head, and looked around. For a moment it shimmered, then turned into a male Tauren with a huge lump on his forehead. “What… where am I?” he asked groggily.
Jules hopped on the mammoths back with glee. “Again, again!” she cried.
***
Doughnut too ran into something: the outside of the gate. He hit it with his entire body just as it slammed shut. Breathing heavily, he slowly turned around. Charging at him were seven insane druids dressed in tribal furs, a dozen filthy hunters clutching poached skins, a herd of mammoths, a large group of murlocs, an equally large group of wolf-men, an enraged giraffe, and a crocolisk. The crocolisk still had a chunk of chain mail in it’s mouth. There was also a badly wounded dreadsaber bleeding from several deep scratches.
Doughnut turned to the tickbird on his shoulder. “Looks like this is the end of the road” he said. The tickbird pecked his head. “All I want to know is, where’d the dreadsaber come from?”