opalexian
08-11-2008, 04:14 AM
One day a mysterious tarp was hung in the courtyard behind the Sanctuary guildhall in Shattrath. For days afterwards noises emanated from behind it-metal on metal sounds of industry sure, but also strange ones-honks and squeals, squelches and chirruping-sounds that one would not normally associate with being productive.
Guild members walked by and heard these sounds at all hours, accompanied by sparks and strange mooing, snorts and whistles. 'What is he doing in there?' wondered Amoola. 'What is he doing to my yard?' mused Vilmah. 'What the hell is that stench?' Cabriel said outloud. No one disagreed with him, but they all stared as he voiced what no one else wanted to say.
Finally the day came, and Qoroto emerged from behind the curtain, his tongue lolling between his teeth as it always did, but a sharper, more focused look in his eye than usual. His goggles were pushed up on his head leaving his braids askew and his hair was full of dirt and solder. He smelled...well, like dung.
'Ladies and gentilemen, step right forward and see the amazing marvel that I amazingly put together with my own two hooves!'
'Q, your hooves are not what you would be using to put something together,' said Broxigan in his warrior guise. 'Come along Vee, let's see what this monstrosity is.'
Q led them into the courtyard where they encountered a creature the likes of which engineering had never seen. It looked like it might fly...if physics was shut off. Boards stuck out at irregular angles, the furnace appeared to be underneath the seat of the beast, and the controls appeared to be honky childrens' toys. The 'propeller' if you could call it that was on a shaft that was angled out and looked like it would bean the operator every time it turned while the blades themselves were unevenly spaced and askew from each other. Wood didn't so much mesh with metal as it wrecked into it, and splinters and shards seemed to live together in a neverending battle between the two elements.
'Vat ees eet?' asked Savarra, tilting her head so it was parallel to the ground, trying to see what the mass was actually for.
'It's a flying machine! Duh!' Qoroto snorted, then he giggled like a schoolgirl at lunchtime. It's for flyin'!'
'Q, how will this thing get off the ground?' Moknim also seemed to be tilting his head with Savarra, although at less of an angle as the tauren's head permitted.
'With flying stuff of course! This spins--he pointed at the horribly bent pole holding the 'propeller' up--and it lifts it and then it goes with these!--he pointed at the extensions on the sides that looked like kitchen stoves (and may one day have been.) 'Want to know my secret to making it go?'
Everyone crowded around as if watching a trainwreck-wanting to know yet unable to look away even as they were repulsed. The stench emanated from under a tarp that was in the corner which Q had until now left covered. With an overdramatic flourish (that kind of looked like a flounder because of his general lack of proper motor control) he reached down and picked up the corner of the tarp, whipping it away from what it was hiding.
'Taa daaaaa!!!!' The stench grew to unconscionable levels and everyone watching had to cover their noses and mouths to keep back their lunches, dinners, and several meals from last week as well. Cabriel made small choking noises as he kept his gag reflex from working overtime. Underneath the tarp had been...well, dried cow biscuits. Large chunks of it, piled up and waiting for...Q's explanation of this miserable horror.
'Why is there a pile of shit in my courtyard, Q?' Vilmah was lodged firmly between being very angry and horrified amusement that such a huge pile could have been collected right under her nose.
'This is my speeeeecial secret. It's--Qoroto made a dramatic pause for his own amusement, and obviously didn't notice his audience was collectively turning green--to make my flying machine go! I can make it go on my own poopie! Isn't that great?!?!?!' No one wanted to look into that broad, childish excitement and tell him that the stench of the thing might finally drive A'Dal to bannish someone from the city for the first time so they all nodded with feigned appreciation on their faces. No one was willing to tell him that either the thing would not fly, or that he would draw the ire of just about everyone in the city, his excitement was too high.
'It's...spectacular,' choked Amoola. The others could only nod as they clenched their faces.
'Want to see it fly?' Q said excitedly.
'Will it fly out of here? And take that shit with it?' Vilmah asked.
'Yeah! I have a special compartment underneath that will hold all the biscuits until I need to make it go more.' Q began excitedly loading the hardened lumps in a kind of bladder that hung off to the side and underneath the flightless-looking monstrosity.
The guildmates watched expectantly as Q loaded the machine up, first with the dung then with all his tools and the excess of spare parts that were laying around the courtyard. 'Just in case it needs some fixin'' he explained.
At last the moment arrived for him to test the creature, and not a moment too soon. Cabriel had come close to passing out on Ninorra, who had had mutual aspersions. Amoola was breathing through parted lips, Brox's eyes were glazed over in concentration that presumably placed him on a desserted island with a light and tantalizing breeze, and Vilmah watched eagerly as she anticipated getting her courtyard back so she could raze the area and make it something less nasty.
Qoroto climbed into the middle of the nest of boards which presumably was the cockpit and squeezed one of the horns. With the bleat the fires in the stoves flared up. He shoved some of the dung biscuits into the open maw of the furnace between his legs, flapping his burnt fingers then stuffing them in his mouth to cool them off. Honking another horn, the thing jumped to life. It shuddered for a second then, against all odds, began to lift off the ground. Despite the horrors that had been unleashed everyone was genuinely impressed that the mess actually flew and hands came away from faces to applaud the newest miracle of modern engineering and most recent triumph for idiot savants everywhere.
Guild members walked by and heard these sounds at all hours, accompanied by sparks and strange mooing, snorts and whistles. 'What is he doing in there?' wondered Amoola. 'What is he doing to my yard?' mused Vilmah. 'What the hell is that stench?' Cabriel said outloud. No one disagreed with him, but they all stared as he voiced what no one else wanted to say.
Finally the day came, and Qoroto emerged from behind the curtain, his tongue lolling between his teeth as it always did, but a sharper, more focused look in his eye than usual. His goggles were pushed up on his head leaving his braids askew and his hair was full of dirt and solder. He smelled...well, like dung.
'Ladies and gentilemen, step right forward and see the amazing marvel that I amazingly put together with my own two hooves!'
'Q, your hooves are not what you would be using to put something together,' said Broxigan in his warrior guise. 'Come along Vee, let's see what this monstrosity is.'
Q led them into the courtyard where they encountered a creature the likes of which engineering had never seen. It looked like it might fly...if physics was shut off. Boards stuck out at irregular angles, the furnace appeared to be underneath the seat of the beast, and the controls appeared to be honky childrens' toys. The 'propeller' if you could call it that was on a shaft that was angled out and looked like it would bean the operator every time it turned while the blades themselves were unevenly spaced and askew from each other. Wood didn't so much mesh with metal as it wrecked into it, and splinters and shards seemed to live together in a neverending battle between the two elements.
'Vat ees eet?' asked Savarra, tilting her head so it was parallel to the ground, trying to see what the mass was actually for.
'It's a flying machine! Duh!' Qoroto snorted, then he giggled like a schoolgirl at lunchtime. It's for flyin'!'
'Q, how will this thing get off the ground?' Moknim also seemed to be tilting his head with Savarra, although at less of an angle as the tauren's head permitted.
'With flying stuff of course! This spins--he pointed at the horribly bent pole holding the 'propeller' up--and it lifts it and then it goes with these!--he pointed at the extensions on the sides that looked like kitchen stoves (and may one day have been.) 'Want to know my secret to making it go?'
Everyone crowded around as if watching a trainwreck-wanting to know yet unable to look away even as they were repulsed. The stench emanated from under a tarp that was in the corner which Q had until now left covered. With an overdramatic flourish (that kind of looked like a flounder because of his general lack of proper motor control) he reached down and picked up the corner of the tarp, whipping it away from what it was hiding.
'Taa daaaaa!!!!' The stench grew to unconscionable levels and everyone watching had to cover their noses and mouths to keep back their lunches, dinners, and several meals from last week as well. Cabriel made small choking noises as he kept his gag reflex from working overtime. Underneath the tarp had been...well, dried cow biscuits. Large chunks of it, piled up and waiting for...Q's explanation of this miserable horror.
'Why is there a pile of shit in my courtyard, Q?' Vilmah was lodged firmly between being very angry and horrified amusement that such a huge pile could have been collected right under her nose.
'This is my speeeeecial secret. It's--Qoroto made a dramatic pause for his own amusement, and obviously didn't notice his audience was collectively turning green--to make my flying machine go! I can make it go on my own poopie! Isn't that great?!?!?!' No one wanted to look into that broad, childish excitement and tell him that the stench of the thing might finally drive A'Dal to bannish someone from the city for the first time so they all nodded with feigned appreciation on their faces. No one was willing to tell him that either the thing would not fly, or that he would draw the ire of just about everyone in the city, his excitement was too high.
'It's...spectacular,' choked Amoola. The others could only nod as they clenched their faces.
'Want to see it fly?' Q said excitedly.
'Will it fly out of here? And take that shit with it?' Vilmah asked.
'Yeah! I have a special compartment underneath that will hold all the biscuits until I need to make it go more.' Q began excitedly loading the hardened lumps in a kind of bladder that hung off to the side and underneath the flightless-looking monstrosity.
The guildmates watched expectantly as Q loaded the machine up, first with the dung then with all his tools and the excess of spare parts that were laying around the courtyard. 'Just in case it needs some fixin'' he explained.
At last the moment arrived for him to test the creature, and not a moment too soon. Cabriel had come close to passing out on Ninorra, who had had mutual aspersions. Amoola was breathing through parted lips, Brox's eyes were glazed over in concentration that presumably placed him on a desserted island with a light and tantalizing breeze, and Vilmah watched eagerly as she anticipated getting her courtyard back so she could raze the area and make it something less nasty.
Qoroto climbed into the middle of the nest of boards which presumably was the cockpit and squeezed one of the horns. With the bleat the fires in the stoves flared up. He shoved some of the dung biscuits into the open maw of the furnace between his legs, flapping his burnt fingers then stuffing them in his mouth to cool them off. Honking another horn, the thing jumped to life. It shuddered for a second then, against all odds, began to lift off the ground. Despite the horrors that had been unleashed everyone was genuinely impressed that the mess actually flew and hands came away from faces to applaud the newest miracle of modern engineering and most recent triumph for idiot savants everywhere.