Bir Romine: King of Ogres

[Bir]

Bir twined his fingers behind his back as he paced around, recalling the earlier events of his night. As usual he got books thrown at him, the middle-aged-Kovan bellowing at him to 'piss off'. This time the healer was a little more violent about it, and wouldn't even take the cake he was brought. It was strange, maybe he had a whore in his room Bir didn't see. Maybe it was that weird laughing voice again. Didn't he realize the little fellow was just trying to help? Keep him some company perhaps? It wasn't like he was the one with no friends, oh no, he had many friends. Too many 'friends' sometimes. But lately he's been too busy taking care of that old jerk to really spend time out of the house.

The old elf was depressed about something, it was obvious, there was no singing in the morning, and there were no stories to be read at night. Was this a good reason for him to take it out on someone just trying to be a friend? No, it wasn't good enough for Bir, even if his idea of being 'friendly' was very much skewed. A few of those Kovan-look-alikes yelled at him about being a rude to one woman in particular, and apparently she ran off. Was that his fault? Probably. But did he care? No, not really. One less woman in the house means one less embarrassing moment and one less pair of tits for Kovan to glance at. Besides, was he really that mean? Bir shook it from his mind, no, he was never ever mean, just truthful. If she could run away because someone told her the truth, he could surely leave on the grounds of being told to 'piss off'. But where would he go? Who would he see?

The little rogue sighed heavily as he opened the book which was thrown at him earlier. Bright eyes skimmed the upside down page, reading the poorly written thalassian there as he narrowly avoided walking into a wall. His path was corrected by two gloved hands, as he turned to look at the guard, he smiled. Eveyone's favourite red head, of course.

"Where do you think you're going in the middle of the night? Reading a book upside down, no less? Do you need more cake, mister Romine?" 'Johan' crossed his arms, fixing the ebon haired elf with an amused smile. The last time they met wasn't so amusing, and the thought of it nearly sent a shiver up the ranger's spine.

"I'm.. going to see my wolf. Bee-caauusue we got that new wolf.. guy. And I can't read, I just like to look at the pictures, see?" Bir lied, of course he could read, he could read things upside down easily. Actually, he found it fun to read books that way, not only did it make people smile, he liked his little illusion. With a quick movement, he snapped the book the right way around and shoved it in the other elf's face.

"Aa-aah, ogres, very good then, Mister Romine. Have a good night." The ranger smiled softly, quickly stepping back to avoid getting his nose broken by a book. It wasn't propelled at him that fast, but with the display he made a few weeks ago, he wouldn't doubt the little thing going psycho at any moment.

"Ogres?" Bir questioned, turning the book around to look at the well drawn ogre on the page.

"Aah- isn't that what that picture was?" At this point, 'Johan' was backing away, still smiling.

"R-right! Ogres."

Giving the guard a thoughtful nod, Bir turned his book upside down once again and happily marched down the long hallway, pausing at the stairs. He flopped down onto the fourth stair down, stretching his knees out and leaning back as he held his book upside down with one hand. Shen'dralar.. Night Elves.. Queen Azshara.. Big huge awesome demons and satyr.. Highborne.. The book started alright, but where the hell did ogres come in? He blinked dumbly a few times as he read a small section:

...and when our team slaughtered the king of the ogres, they crowned us! They worshiped us! Idiot ogres, how could this happen to our home?...

A light snicker soon tapering into a loud burst of laughter was heard. It clicked. This story was about Dire Maul! He's been there before, but he didn't remember anything like that. Being crowned and worshiped by things he was hardly smarter than? Sounded like a lot of fun. He loved his new home, and he loved all the Kovan-look-alikes and all the cake they fed him. However, this sounded like a good place to go to 'lay low' until all this women business blew over. He would have to inform someone about where he was going, someone who wouldn't care enough to look for him. The middle-aged-Kovan would have to do, he would have told old-Kovan but the last time they spoke Bir was stealthed behind a drunk making fart noises and old-Kovan was bickering with the new wolfmaster. It was also the same night that young woman ran off. Of course they weren't both Kovan, but they looked enough like him to be thought of as such.

Bir ripped the picture of the ogre out of the book which wasn't his and dug around in his pocket for the tiny stick of charcoal he kept there. He wrote middle-aged-healer-Kovan a letter right on top of the picture reading:

Dear Jerk-wad-Kovan-Lookalike,
Since you told me to go away, I'm leaving. I read this thing about ogres and it made me want to go kill some. So if a whole bunch of really angry ogre ladies come to your door asking why their brothers, fathers and sons are dead, you can tell them it was because you told me to 'piss off'. Make sure you tell Kovan I'll be home when I'm finished, and don't forget to give him a hug for me.

Thanks,

~Bir

P.S. You never did make me that ring, you jerk. How will people know I'm rich if I don't have a ring on every finger? Now everyone will think I'm poor again, and that's all your fault too.

P.S.S. Better give Kovan a kiss too, he gets lonely without me you know.

Folding his letter carefully, he stuck it in the middle of the book where it would be noticed. He slowly stood from his place on the stairs, the permanent grin on his pale childish face twitching just a little wider. While whistling a happy tune, he turned and padded down the plush carpeted hallway he had come from. Holding the book in one hand, he swung his other arm enthusiastically while he jogged by two angry guards. Most of the staff adored him, even when he was rude. But guards were always guards and the night guards were always stern. It was kind of a nice change from the giggling maids but all the while offending. In his eyes the men glaring at him was like being called an idiot. One of them laughed as they saw him march by, it was disheartening but all the same he liked to make people happy any way he could. He's done worse things than walk funny for approval anyway.

A small gloved fist met the healer's door with a soft knock which was quickly silenced as the older male opened his door. Somewhere behind him, a female was heard groaning. It was the middle of the night and he probably woke the two of them up.

"Can I help you?" The 'middle-aged-Kovan' asked, not looking too pleased as his elegant brow drew together, keeping the door mostly closed. He was clothed in his night robes, so nothing was interrupted. Then again, with his attitude, nothing had gone on for years and years. It wasn't like Bir didn't try..

"I-I brought your book back." Bir's voice but a quiet shy squeak as he noticed the other male's gaze on him. Kovan's brother really did look just like him and it always made Bir's face red. It's also hard to get over being so awkward with someone you've killed, even if he was only dead for about fifteen minutes.

"That's what you woke me up for? It couldn't wait til tomorrow? Gods Bir, don't you know how late it is? Go to bed, don't forget to wash your face. And brush your hair and teeth." Middle-aged-Kovan muttered, eyeing the rogue up and down and stopping pointedly at his 'too-long' nose.

Bir stared at the middle-aged-Kovan-look-alike, blushing his little heart out as he held the book through the small crack of the door. There were butterflies in his chest when he felt their fingertips touch from around the book. It wasn't Kovan, but it was close enough. When he thought about it, he did look rather silly. Ratty unkempt hair in a ponytail, probably cake frosting on his face, and somehow dressed in clean finery the house provided. When he really thought about it, since when did a gentle knock on the door wake middle-aged-Kovan so easily? He probably wasn't sleeping to begin with. What a jerk, trying to him feel bad for returning what wasn't his. All the while, he did nothing but grin stupidly at the healer-Kovan.

The book was snatched from his hand, and the door slammed in his face. He looked pathetic enough without crying. Torch flames flickered in the hallway as he ran down to his room, tears blurring his vision. When he tried to open his door, it was locked. Who the hell locked his door? It was never locked, ever. Probably someone's idea of a joke. Fine, if they thought it was fun to lock his door and that made them happy, fine. He hadn't been in his room all day, for all he knew he locked himself out. Oh well, it didn't matter, he was going to see ogres anyway. Who needs clothes out there in the wild? Ogres didn't wear much besides a loin cloth.

Blowing his nose into his puffy white sleeve, Bir dragged himself down to the stables. Luckily for him, those gates were unlocked. He supposed they were upon request, Kovan wouldn't have his wolf locked up in case he wanted it in the night. Hell, the whole family kept wolves and the lot of them came and went as they pleased. Looking very much the confused little rat he was, he reached up to the saddles and horns hanging from their respectful trees and hooks, taking the most ragged saddle and the horn hanging above it. Grunting and wheezing, he inched over to the pen where his wolf was usually kept. The other beasts growled, snored, and otherwise kept to themselves.

"Heere we go.."

Bir kneed up the underside of the heavy leather saddle and nearly fell straight on his ass, left wobbling on the balls of his feet. After a fun balancing act, he hoisted the worn saddle onto the ugly wolf's back. His wolf looked just as bad as he did, black matted fur, battle scarred ears, an over all unimpressive creature. He laughed to himself as he bent low to grab the worn cinch from his companion's underbelly. The wolf was stubborn, it always held its breath and puffed its gut whenever anyone started to tighten its saddle. This, of course, was a lesson the blood elf knew well. Too many times he had fallen off his wolf because of a cinch not being fastened tight enough. Once when they went downhill, he and his saddle slid right over the beasties head. Jern, the orcish wolfmaster laughed when he heard this, and gave him a tip-- Knee him in the side so he lets out his breath before you tighten the cinch. Every time he did it, he winced a little, because just tapping its side wouldn't do. When the orc said knee, he really meant knee. So Bir used advice from both of them. Taking in a sharp breath, he puffed his chest out and kneed his ugly beasties side as hard as he possibly could. Bending quickly to yank the cinch in its ring and tying the loop knot as tight as he could manage.

The wolf gave a protesting grunt.

"Oh suck it up." Bir replied, affectionately stroking one of its ugly hairless ears before hopping onto its back.

Suddenly, Bir heard an odd noise. A slight groan and the clopping of hooves on stone. Hooves? What had hooves? Draenei had hooves, satyr did too and so did horses. But when did they keep horses? They only ever had hawkstriders with scratchy claws, and wolves who made no noises like that. Kovan didn't even buy his warhorse from the Blood Knights. Chomping, whatever it was, it was chewing something and it didn't sound very good. It sounded more like bone grinding against bone, but something squishy caught between. He forgot how scary it was outside at night, especially with weird monsters about. Shaking his head, he leaned forward and stuck his nose in the ugly unkempt beasties mane, bottom lip quivering. He was overreacting, it couldn't be anything too bad, right? Just as he finished comforting himself, another long groan broke the silence. Just the same way a cat would react, Bir's long ears pinned back against his skull. He turned his head and nuzzled his cheek against a bare patch of skin on his wolf's currently unarmored neck.

"He-hello? Is anyone there?" The rogue whimpered.

Slowly, the scraggly black wolf started out of his pen on his own, sniffing the air and still carrying the trembling scared elf on his back. The animal knew something else was there, but it didn't seem afraid. If anything, it was interested in the strange groaning.

"N-no.. no no stop stop.." Bir whimpered as he pulled back on the reigns. Whatever the hell was out there, he didn't want to see it. Or rather, have it see him.

The ugly patchy wolf darted out the corner out of the stables, and charged right for whatever the thing was. Bir let out a high pitched scream, it muffled by the wolf's tattered mane. Of all the times he wished he put his saddle on loose.. He didn't look, but he heard a loud pop followed by a shrill unearthly cry. The animal under him jerked around, snarling and biting at something. Another splitting cry was let forth from whatever the wolf was biting at. When Bir finally gathered the strength to look up, he saw something very unexpected. An undead horse, toppled over onto the ground.. and it was missing one bleached bone leg.

"Aaaah! No no no let it go let it go! He needs his leg!" Bir quickly hopped off his mount and grabbed the horses leg which was well in his wolf's toothy grasp.

Such an idiot, why didn't he think of it earlier? The middle-aged-Kovan had been raving about wanting one of these disgusting zombie things, why didn't he remember? He could have sworn the older elf told him he got one. But when did he ever listen to anything that jerk said? The undead horses' pen in the stable was left open, and when he left the door open to let the moonlight in, the damn thing snuck out. With a grunt of effort, he freed the hooved leg from his wolf's jaws.

"Here, here it's ok, it's ok! Look it's fine!" Bir swung the bone in the air, showing the distressed wailing horse that its leg was ok and in one piece. The thing kicked its three remaining limbs, crying out woefully and pitifully trying to escape the slowly advancing rogue. Something about it reminded him of the event that took place a few weeks ago, that wasn't a good thing to recall. He put it away with the rest of the bad things. They were lessons, he'd learn something new every time and never think of it ever again if he could help it.

"T-take it! I didn't do anything! I didn't do it!" He screeched while continuing to wave the leg. Eventually he broke down in tears and threw the limb at the scrambling excuse for a horse, and turned to hurdle back onto his wolf.

(( Ok forgive any typos, I wrote most of this while drunk and in AV. I meant for it to be much longer, but I'll continue tomorrow! So no posting yet! I'm just getting started, seriously, I'm taking this far. ))

[Malorii]

(( bump for awsome birness! XD w need to do stuff more bir :/ ))

[Kovan]

(( Oh gods. I rofled irl. I cant wait to see where this is going, allthough something tells me I allready know. <3 . Write faaaster))

[Bir]

With a snort, Bir awoke. He snapped his chin up to see that his wolf took him to the Wetlands, he could tell by the dying frog swamp smell. To his left he heard a distant bustling and sounds of battle. Having just woken up, he wasn't all there. So he hopped off his wolf, watered the cobblestone a little and wandered off the path to where these battle noises were coming from. Wearing no combat leather, carrying no dagger, and having the smarts of a magic powered broom, trotting over was probably not a good idea.

"Helllllooooo? Are you still alive over there?" Bir politely asked, in orcish. The words still felt kind of strange flowing off his tongue, especially so early in the 'morning'. Like most elves, he didn't much care for the language. Judgeing by the sounds made earlier, it must have been an orc. Or since he was in alliance lands, a very large human.

"UDEN! UDEN! GOIBON UDEN 'LO!!" The human bawled as he sprinted up the side of the ditch, falling face first into a small warm puddle on the path. Scrambling to his feet and probably retching with disgust, the huge buff male fled to the bridge and stopped near the fortress at the other side of it.

"I wish he didn't run off so fast.. Oh, the harbor.." Bir muttered as he walked down the path, stepping over the tiny pond he made. He spotted dwarven guards on the bridge and the large stone building just beyond them, nothing he hasn't slipped by before.

Bir probably would have liked to punch that human to death if he could get away with it, it was a nice way to keep in shape and whenever he told the big orc military persons they rewarded him with things. Usually only when he killed in actual battlefields, but they always smiled when he told them of his other conquests. Bir lived to make people smile, he even enjoyed the big scary orc grins and besides, killing weak alliance was one of his favorite pass times since he wasn't very good at being a normal solider. Sure he would always try to defend his people whenever he saw them in trouble but it usually ended up in him running off with his tail between his legs. He was a coward of an elf, everyone knew it. Outright war frightened him, he didn't like seeing his allies being slaughtered. The little actual combat he did, he did alone. The massive crowds of battle, death, and screaming in Warsong Gulch was enough to keep him awake for months. They usually won those battles against the night elves but the casualties, the faces of random horde soldiers who he shared friendly words with.. That was another one of those lessons to be put away. Funny that he didn't mind disposing of alliance, he didn't look at their faces and they never wanted to talk to him anyway, they either ran, or fought.

Rolling his puffy white sleeves back, he stretched his arms over his head to crack his knuckles. He clenched one fist in a little ball and used it to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Hopping gracefully up the ditch, he gave his wolf's snout a pat.

"Ok, you should go home now. I'm going to go sneak. Tell Kovan I said hello, ok? And don't get angry at him if he wants to brush you. I know you like to be smelly, I do too, but Kovan likes everything clean." He leaned in to cuddle his ratty animal's massive head, smiling to himself. Many would tell him he wasted his breath talking to his animals, though he would think they liked being spoken to. Even if he knew his words weren't understood, it made him happy to have something kind of friendly at his side to talk to.

The wolf slobbered all over Bir's bare arms and playfully tugged at his shirt, ripping it down the middle. As if he didn't look messy enough. It might make anyone else upset for the loss of clothes, Bir was glad the animal liked him and wanted to play. Too bad he didn't have time for that, there were dwarves to sneak by, boats to slink onto, little alliance to sap, and ogres to visit. He shoved the wolf back a little, dipping down to smile at one of its big brown eyes.

"Go home." The elf whispered while slipping into the shadows.

Turning tail, the patchy ebon wolf bolted off the way he came. But as always, he probably wouldn't show up at home for some time. Its owner never fed it, he didn't know what it wanted to eat. The orc at the stables fed him once, but being a wolf, it liked to hunt its own dish. Being in mostly peaceful alliance lands, there would be many crunchy weak things to munch on. Be it gnomes, dwarves, crocolisks or mountain sheep.

Aside from killing alliance who stood no chance against him, Bir's other favorite pass time was sneaking. He loved to stealth around the house, pickpocketing the staff and throwing rocks to distract the guards. Or in the city, where he would swipe anything that looked interesting. Though he wasn't very smart when it came to that either, so he usually just kept to himself in the shadows. In the wild or when he was on his own, it was a way of survival. If he couldn't sneak, he supposed he would be long dead.

Bir snuck by the dwarves easily, avoiding their patrols, and sticking to one side of the bridge. He spotted the human who ran off earlier talking to one of the stout little armored tanks. That's what they looked like all plated up, angry hairy little tanks. If he had been awake when his wolf took him out of the city, he would have stolen a dagger. If he had a stolen dagger, he would have rammed it into the humans skull. But on the other hand, he had no flash powder. But he could always run. No, no, no. He wasted enough time, he had somewhere to go. Taking careful steps, he padded by the guards, and onto the wooden docks. Perfect timing too, the boat was there.

Two kal'dorei women giggled with one another as they stepped onto the boat, the both of them staring and pointing at a smelly bearded sailor human who was swabbing the deck and scratching his ass. Bir followed them onto the boat and also looked to the human. He didn't see anything to laugh at. It was a weak human, kind of fat, dressed in patched leggings and a dirty swashbuckler shirt. Why was that funny? It looked a lot like the gimpy adventurer humans he had put out of their misery in Stranglethorn. Probably poor, no family, a drunk and not interested in having any fun. Oh if Bir had his dagger.. He would stab one of those disgustingly beautiful women.

The boat ride to Theramore was long, the scruffy little rogue found himself a dark corner to hide in for most of the journey. He wanted to stand on the deck with the ugly human, smell the ocean breeze and maybe chat a little. If the guy was nice, maybe he'd have some 'fun', or help him clean the deck. Cleaning could be 'fun' too..

It was his damn long ears. Bir cupped his hands over both of the long ragged things, bending them back awkwardly and failing to tuck them in his hair. He could tuck them into a hood.. Nope, his room was locked with all his clothes. Bir had hoods he hid his ears in so he could walk around with the humans. None of them were the wiser, he kept his glowing eyes covered, if they noticed, they just assumed he was some kind of demon warlock deviant, and they stayed away. He was short enough to get away with it, and his skin was pale enough to make him look like something that used magic. It was the middle of the afternoon, the sun was up, his eyes wouldn't be that bright now.. Oh well, it was a nice thought. He curled up in his corner and wrapped his arms around his knees, eyes half lidded. The women chattering in Darnassian slowly became white noise and he nodded off in slumber.

Whoever was navigating the ship must have been drunk. The large wooden vessel bumped into the Theramore docks, sending a wave of water crashing up onto the deck. Bir was safe in his corner, but he did smack his head on the wall with the sudden movement. He resisted the urge to cuss, he wasn't in the best place to be talking to himself. Tipping his head back, he let his tired eyes drift to the kal'dorei women. They both looked his way, raised their too-long brows, then walked out of the room and off the boat. Bir followed close behind them, crouching low. They probably saw him, but maybe didn't notice he wasn't a human. And if they did notice, maybe they didn't care to cause trouble. The two looked like something out of a fairy tale, then again, most night elf women did. If he stood a chance at all, Bir might have looked them over with a more suggestive eye, but no females of his own race were ever interested in him. What made him think he stood a chance with two goddess-looking night elves? Kovan always said they were glamorous whores who'd do anything for a well endowed man. Bir knew better, he knew that man wasn't him.

The night elves walked with each other through the dreary swamp, chattering happily and every so often stopping to rest. Bir followed, traveling alone was really boring, and their tongue was interesting to listen to. He kept his distance, but came close when they started whispering. They seemed to be gossiping, all women got quiet and sometimes serious when they gossiped. When they reached the barrens, the two women flicked their hands up in unison and both were gruesomely transformed into sleek coated black panthers. One of them stopped suddenly and turned around to sniff the air. Probably caught Bir's scent.

They were in horde lands now, it was safe for Bir to walk about freely. Slipping out of stealth, he offered each of the two female cats a pat on the head. They casually followed him as he followed them. He upturned his nose and stood on his tip toes to look at a worn wooden post on the fork in the road. South, he wanted to go south. Because he was headed to Feralas, right? There were a lot of kal'dorei outposts in Feralas, maybe the ladies were headed there too.

The two cats had bright white markings, showing they were of the claw. That wouldn't do if they were going to take the lift down, that wouldn't do at all. He would need to cover those up somehow, because they didn't rat him out back in Theramore.. He thought it would be nice to return the favor. The women looked much too fancy to be in combat wear anyway, easy kills. The scruffy little elf wore no combat gear either, the two of them could have probably ripped him to shreds. A silent treaty. There was one on either side of him, licking at his fingerless gloved hands.

"We'll need to cover those markings up, ladies.. But how.. Ah, over there!" Bir pointed to a smoldering fire off the path, where there was fire, there was soot. The two felines weren't all that dark, but it would be easy to sneak them onto the lift that way.

Bir ran to the fire, and beckoned the two women over. They didn't understand, but they hesitantly came forward. He waved them over closer and pointed at one of their shoulders. They weren't so much markings as they were convenient patches of fur colored white on their black coats, two crescents at either shoulder. He traced his finger along one of the markings and then grabbed a handful of charcoal remains from the edge of the fire. To show them what his plan was, he put one line on his cheek, and then one line across the clean white fur of one of their shoulders. Smiling, Bir continued to cover up the white semicircular patches of fur. The women seemed to understand, each of their long tails curling affectionately around each of Bir's ankles. He stood, planted his hands on his hips and stretched his back.

"Ok, all set to go. Remember, if they ask? I'm a ranger. I'm so skilled I have not one, but TWO pets!" Bir laughed at his own little jokes, of course the women didn't understand him. Pretending he had an invisible bow, he started to shoot at nothing in particular, glancing down every so often to see if the druids were paying attention. One of them ran off into the brush and quickly returned with a dead rabbit the rogue 'shot at'. This of course got a rise out of Bir, the small elf laughing his approval. He continued south on the road, humming softly while the two panthers brushed up against both his legs.

When the three approached the lift, Bir stepped forward to greet the familiar tauren who worked there with a wave and a smile. He has always been terrified of the large cow-creatures and usually he snuck by them. This time he had an act to put on, he was an impressive hunter, with two beautiful cats. If only he had an actual bow, it would look a little more promising. But hey, if he asked? He had two damn panthers he didn't need a bow.

The tauren looked a little confused, but blood elves were always confusing. He thought about asking the man about his two cats.. but when he eyed him up and down he decided not to. The short little thing must have been high on bloodthistle, soot and some kind of bright pink crust on his face, hair a mess, and once white shirt torn open.

Without a word from the 'hunter', the three stepped onto the lift. It creaked as it lowered them down. Bir hated the lift, there were no guard rails, nothing, if he slipped and fell he'd die. This always made him curl up into a ball and wait til he felt the poorly made lift cage bump the ground. However, he was a hunter now, and he had two goddess elves with him. The lift wavered a little, probably a knot in the rope that slightly caught a rim of the pulley. Bir of course squeezed his eyes closed, terrified and suppressing a whimper. Both the dark cats were curled up on his feet, it wasn't exactly comforting. But as soon as he thought he was going to plummet down to his death, they came to a steady hault. The fear tugging his mind quickly washed away as he stepped over the cats, putting on the most cheerful smile he could manage before he slipped into the shadows.

The two cats also slipped into the shadows, their skills not all that great. Bir supposed they were going to train in Feralas, a lot of night elves did. Their old city was there, maybe they were going to become king of the ogres as well. On second thought, they didn't look strong enough. Women couldn't be kings anyway, but if he could ask he'd have them come with him. Too bad they were enemies.

Once they all reached Feralas the two women did their gruesome transforming act once again and were back in their goddess forms. Maybe druids were really animals turned into people, that would explain why the tauren ones were always so angry. Bir would be angry too if he had to turn into a big ugly cow. He followed in the shadows, enjoying the lush smell of the forest as the women did. The ladies chattered with one another as they walked, laughing and smiling. Bir smiled too, they were probably talking about how scared he was on the lift. He knew what whores were like, these women weren't whores. He liked these women, he didn't have to worry about what they said because he didn't understand them and they were happy. Most whores weren't happy unless you paid them to be happy.

One of the two women started to sing while they continued on the path, her voice was beautiful. The words were lost on him, but the melody was serene, almost ethereal. Bir could see why everyone admired the kal'dorei women, they didn't even try to sing modestly like most sin'dorei women, her voice was loud and crystal clear. It would be a crime if she held back her talent. He moved in closer, not close enough to be seen but he wanted a better look. The other woman joined in a harmony. He really enjoyed their voices, they almost sounded better than the middle-aged-Kovan in the morning on a good day. He enjoyed songs more when he understood them but this was a rare treat.

The alluring song came to a sudden stop when they approached Camp Mojache. The women forgot to take the alternative path. Bir knew all about that path, he used to go there to meet unfortunate alliance on the log bridge back when he was homeless. It was fun to knock them out, take their gold and push them off the side. He found out about it by assisting a lone corpse woman do it once, she was too weak to drag the dazed alliance herself. It was a fond, morbid memory. He could remember the smile on the ugly rotting woman's face that made it worth it.

Bir sadly watched them turn to walk up the path most alliance did, he wanted to follow them, maybe sing with them. But he had to go to the cow-camp and get a dagger, maybe something to eat too. The last thing he ate was cake in the kitchen with the chubby cook lady. She was really nice and she baked some really tasty cakes. Ginger carrot cake with pink frosting was his favorite. He would have to settle for less tonight but maybe when he got to Dire Maul, the ogres could get him some cake.

He slipped out of stealth and greeted the two tauren guards. One of them offered a wave and the other shifted weight on her hooves. The camp was in the middle of the most pretty forest Bir has ever seen, the tauren always seemed concerned and upset anyway though. There was too much going on everywhere for them to be happy about where they were. Bir could understand it, but he didn't think being depressed did them any good at all. He dug around in his pocket to find one gold piece and four silver ones. He bought himself a skinning dagger to arm himself and a bag of apples. Food? Check. A weapon? Check. Everything was in order for him to leave to Dire Maul.

(( Ok, 8504 honor. Not enough to get my warlock a phat belt yet. I'll post part three when I'm done writing it. Enjoy! ))

[Bir]

(( Mmrrgh sorry for taking so long to write this. Authentication server is down, so here you go! ))

Getting inside was the easy part, ogres and hyenas patrolled around outside. Bir smiled a little as one huge ogre romped by. He was wrong, the ogres actually wore a little more than a loin cloth. A few of them seemed to have metal plate brassieres, that in itself confusing to the little rogue. So they felt their chests needed protection, but from what? They were so tall, nothing else short of maybe a tauren would even be able to reach them. Well, this was something he would have to fix when he became king. This incomplex situation made it easy to understand why middle-aged-Kovan seemed so happy about getting the house, he said there were a lot of things to fix. A small worried crease formed in his brow as he considered that he might very well be something the healer would want to 'correct'. For now? It didn't really matter.

With his skinning knife in hand, a sack of apples slung over his back, the grungy dirty rogue slipped out of stealth to look at the locked door in front of him. The book mentioned going into the north passage, but he forgot to read how they got in. That's what he gets for skim reading and not actually taking his time. If he got in his room, he would have had his tools and he could have unlocked the door himself. Too bad someone thought it would be a hoot to lock him out. Oh well, nothing to worry about, he'll just find another way in.

Bir didn't think as he ran down one side of the hall, good thing ogres thought a little less than he did. His shiny little black nobleman shoes clicked against the green marble as he jogged, they had no grip, it would be like running on ice if not for the moss and vines snaking out from the cracks between the stone. He nearly fell over, missing a step as he passed through a high arched doorway. Looking up, he saw more ogres and dogs. They didn't notice him. If one of those dogs were to stand on its hind legs, it would probably be just as tall as him. Blinking a little, feeling very lost, he wavered back into the shadows and snuck by the ogres onto the edge of a pit. There were a lot of messy hyenas there, the smell even irritated his nostrils. Now holding nose in hand, he nearly fell down the incline, slipping off the edge of the ramp and landing on his butt. He barely held onto his bag of apples and it was a miracle his knife didn't end up in his own back. Gracefully picking himself up, he ran toward a large doorway and failed to push it open. No good, he would need a key for this one too. He threw a sharp glance over his shoulder, the hyenas were too busy fighting over something to notice a little distressed elf.

Letting out a long quivering sigh, Bir tried to sneak back up the ramp, growling frustration as he failed to walk up the slope in his flashy little black shoes. Sitting carefully, he wriggled his ankles one by one, kicking the shoddy footwear off. He slowly plucked his socks off and tossed them over his shoulder. Now standing, he unsteadily walked barefoot up the vined slant. He nearly giggled as the foliage and gravel tickled the soles of his soft feet. Nicked pale ears twitched, something most unusual reaching them, giggling? Something was laughing. The sound was too high pitched to be an ogre and too sinister to be a child.. A normal child, anyway. Slowly turning on his bare heels, he scanned the spacious ruins of the hallway. There it was, a little imp laughing! An imp? All alone? Was it laughing at him? No, impossible, it couldn't see him.

Bir walked on his tip toes to the imp towering above the tiny creature before he decided to show himself. "Hey, imp! Where's your warlock?"

"Eehehehahahah... eheheheh wheeeeeeeeeeheheheh." Was the only reply the imp gave. The thing was as most imps, ugly, tiny headed with ill perportion.

"Hey do you understand me? Where's your warlock? I bet he misses you." The rogue bent down to stare at the little thing. He knew how to summon one of these, well, he did once. It was a bit difficult to wrap his mind around anything like it now, but he imagined it would be really depressing if he did a summoning ritual and got nothing.

"Eeeeeeheehheehehhwahahabahaha! BAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!" The imp replied, holding its fat little pot belly as it waved one hand in the air.

Something shiny in that little palm caught Bir's eye. It was a key, probably the key to one of those doors! What a tricky warlock, giving the key to elven ruins to his stupid little imp. He would have to meet this warlock and ask him how his imp could stay in this world so far away from him. But what if the warlock was like him and knew how to sneak? Well this would definitely not do, he knew how warlocks worked, he had no time to waste.

"What'cha got there? Can I see it?" He spoke quietly, slowly reaching out to the imp's little hand.

The high pitched laughter stopped suddenly when the tiny creature made a break for it. The little bastard was fast, but not fast enough. Bir caught its arm and struggled to pry its fingers from the key. It lashed out, throwing sparks and tiny fireballs about. The magic didn't catch the rogue's clothing, lucky that.

"Quit moving, gimmie that key! Just let me borrow it, I'll give it back I promise!" Bir eventually resorted to biting the little clawed fingers, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough the hand open painfully. Finally, the imp quit squirming and the rogue got his key.

"Thanks!" He dropped the imp and held the key up to inspect it. Didn't look very special, light blueish purple, had an elvish design. It actually looked very similar to some of the keys he gave to middle-aged-Kovan. He nodded, giving the angry imp an indignant grin before slipping back into the shadows.

Smiling from ear to ear, Bir went back into the hyena pit and stuck the key in the large door. He slowly turned the key and did a little hop dance when it clicked. He tended the huge door's surface, the feeling of triumph too great for his thin lips to express. The torches were left on, even in the middle of the day. As he pattered down the narrow hall, it made sense, the further he went down, the darker it got. They didn't seem to be magical torches of any sort, there must be someone around to make sure they were always lit. Unlike the courtyard the ogres inhabited, this hall was clean, no moss, no out of control bramble ruining the floor, it was almost in perfect condition.

It pained his back to crouch and sneak so much, especially holding a big bag of apples. The dark hall gradually became a dimly lit, high ceiling library. There were people in robes walking around, it almost seemed like some strange temple. The only things he could hear were fabric brushing against stone and people breathing quietly. Books covered every shelf, big books little books, mostly tomes? Bir could read but it wasn't something he did often. The titles were mostly written in every language but thalassian. Maybe this is where middle-aged-Kovan got his ogre book.

One of the robed figures walked right by him, pausing to give the air a sniff before bustling off in a whirl of robe and anger. Bir's heart almost skipped a beat when he noticed it was a kal'dorei male, at least, it looked like one. Now their women were something, but their men something completely different. He nearly lost his footing as he backed into the narrow hall, bright eyes glued on the angry elf walking away.

Once Bir figured he was far enough down the hall, it was time for a 'catnap'. He covered a lot of distance in those ruins for a lone elf and somehow managed not to see any combat. Casually tossing his apples ahead of him, he came out of stealth and took his now-ratty shirt off. With a quick flicking movement, he shook the torn clothing in the air before folding it into a poofy square. It would be much easier to sneak around that library at night when all those elves were asleep, a lot less 'distracting' too.

(( Have a visual! http://i154.photobucket.com/albums/s269/BirRomine/kingofogres0.jpg ))