Malebrignon
05-09-2006, 02:08 PM
((I'm not making another account for Grooda, but this is her story, not Malebrignon's.))
“Stoopid sungrass.”
The orc girl bent down and sheared away the stalks, careful not to disturb the grainy blossoms atop them. She then jammed them into a pack with a multitude of other herbs. Mounting her dire wolf again, she kicked it into motion.
“Stoopid woof. Too slow.”
Grooda retrieved the magical carrot from her pouch and ran a nail around the insignia, an illusion of kodo meat appeared before her wolf, exciting it and making it run faster. After sprinting past Skulk Rock, she stopped to test the air and grinned ferally.
“Prey.”
Licking her lips, she retrieved bow and spear from the wolf’s back and dismissed him to hunt. Ever overconfident, she was sure she wouldn’t neeed help and allowed her bear to continue its slumber.
“Agolwatta….” She whispered quietly. The ruins were full of the strange slime creatures she’d discovered earlier that day. Unlike those slimes, these did not appear to be guarding any Honeyripple. Grooda’s disappointment in the lack of booze was quickly dismissed as her target came into view. An elegant human woman in robes stood quietly amongst the slimes, as if choosing a path through them that involved killing as few as possible. Looking at the hair and the way the woman’s dress fell, Grooda wondered, briefly, if this was what her friend Elyn had looked like before she became all corpsified. If so, Grooda liked her better now. This thing looked more like a toy than a “being”.
The woman still had not noticed her. Grooda drew back her bow.
PFFFFT! The arrow took her in the neck, seriously wounding, but not dropping the target. She paniced and ran. Slimes overwhelmed her as Grooda chuckled. Grooda waited for the slimes to settle and deftly stepped her way amongst them to examine the corpse. Robes, wand, weapons….this one was geared for battle. Then she searched for insignia. Grooda’s own sash was resplendent with the various medals and awards she’d been given by the Horde. This one had none. Nothing. As though she’d been trained and gird for battle, then deserted her Alliance and struck out on her own.
“Dis pinky be disgustin’. “ Grooda shook her head sadly. How could this one not fight? It must be punished.
Grooda waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Eventually, the smell came back. In her boredom, Grooda had called her bear, Arawn, to keep her company. The smelly thing had almost overpowered her senses, but she caught the human stink amongst the rottenness of the bear. Circling the ruins, Grooda spotted the target taking a drink of restorative water. Grooda sipped a bit of mead, raised her bow, and dropped the target again.
“Funny dat dem always come back where Grooda barshed dem..” she mused. Grooda had long ago accepted that she could never permanently destroy her enemies. No matter how many times she’d killed Blacktoe, or Blacktoe killed Grooda for that matter, they kept comin’ back. Grooda was thankful to be shallow enough not to need a further explanation.
Her disgust had not yet been sated. Grooda waited for her prey to return and allowed Arawn to drop her for a snack. After the fourth time, Grooda realized she was late delivering the Honeyripple, mounted up, made the delivery, and left all thoughts of the Hinterlands and the human girl behind.
Grooda went on many adventures throughout the day. She fought alongside the Frostwolf and defeated the Stormpike. She overcame a skeletal Hakkari serpent in the sunken temple. She even found time to have a few drinks and do some dancing in Boozy Bay. And then she found her way to Gadgetzan….
“Stoopid Marvon. Make Grooda ride tru sand.”
Grooda was already cranky. Despite an eventful day, she’d not gotten a single chance to compete in the Basin. The Gulch had been dry as can be, too. Sure, they’d tried to put up a fight, but there’s no such thing as “gud barshin’” when you outnumber your enemy ten to six. Now she had sand in every crevice and just wanted to sleep. Maybe tomorrow would bring her some games. Mabybe….
“Mebbe dat’s da same stoopid pinky…”
There she was. Standing in the streets of Gadgetzan. Armed to the teeth with no medals or adornments of victory in battle. Grooda couldn’t resist. She drew and fired.
Laying face down in the sand that made up the “street” of Gadgetzan, Grooda smiled broadly. She was careful not to laugh, lest she alert the guards that she was not actually dead, but inside she chuckled heartily at the whimsical nature of her small world.
“Stoopid sungrass.”
The orc girl bent down and sheared away the stalks, careful not to disturb the grainy blossoms atop them. She then jammed them into a pack with a multitude of other herbs. Mounting her dire wolf again, she kicked it into motion.
“Stoopid woof. Too slow.”
Grooda retrieved the magical carrot from her pouch and ran a nail around the insignia, an illusion of kodo meat appeared before her wolf, exciting it and making it run faster. After sprinting past Skulk Rock, she stopped to test the air and grinned ferally.
“Prey.”
Licking her lips, she retrieved bow and spear from the wolf’s back and dismissed him to hunt. Ever overconfident, she was sure she wouldn’t neeed help and allowed her bear to continue its slumber.
“Agolwatta….” She whispered quietly. The ruins were full of the strange slime creatures she’d discovered earlier that day. Unlike those slimes, these did not appear to be guarding any Honeyripple. Grooda’s disappointment in the lack of booze was quickly dismissed as her target came into view. An elegant human woman in robes stood quietly amongst the slimes, as if choosing a path through them that involved killing as few as possible. Looking at the hair and the way the woman’s dress fell, Grooda wondered, briefly, if this was what her friend Elyn had looked like before she became all corpsified. If so, Grooda liked her better now. This thing looked more like a toy than a “being”.
The woman still had not noticed her. Grooda drew back her bow.
PFFFFT! The arrow took her in the neck, seriously wounding, but not dropping the target. She paniced and ran. Slimes overwhelmed her as Grooda chuckled. Grooda waited for the slimes to settle and deftly stepped her way amongst them to examine the corpse. Robes, wand, weapons….this one was geared for battle. Then she searched for insignia. Grooda’s own sash was resplendent with the various medals and awards she’d been given by the Horde. This one had none. Nothing. As though she’d been trained and gird for battle, then deserted her Alliance and struck out on her own.
“Dis pinky be disgustin’. “ Grooda shook her head sadly. How could this one not fight? It must be punished.
Grooda waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Eventually, the smell came back. In her boredom, Grooda had called her bear, Arawn, to keep her company. The smelly thing had almost overpowered her senses, but she caught the human stink amongst the rottenness of the bear. Circling the ruins, Grooda spotted the target taking a drink of restorative water. Grooda sipped a bit of mead, raised her bow, and dropped the target again.
“Funny dat dem always come back where Grooda barshed dem..” she mused. Grooda had long ago accepted that she could never permanently destroy her enemies. No matter how many times she’d killed Blacktoe, or Blacktoe killed Grooda for that matter, they kept comin’ back. Grooda was thankful to be shallow enough not to need a further explanation.
Her disgust had not yet been sated. Grooda waited for her prey to return and allowed Arawn to drop her for a snack. After the fourth time, Grooda realized she was late delivering the Honeyripple, mounted up, made the delivery, and left all thoughts of the Hinterlands and the human girl behind.
Grooda went on many adventures throughout the day. She fought alongside the Frostwolf and defeated the Stormpike. She overcame a skeletal Hakkari serpent in the sunken temple. She even found time to have a few drinks and do some dancing in Boozy Bay. And then she found her way to Gadgetzan….
“Stoopid Marvon. Make Grooda ride tru sand.”
Grooda was already cranky. Despite an eventful day, she’d not gotten a single chance to compete in the Basin. The Gulch had been dry as can be, too. Sure, they’d tried to put up a fight, but there’s no such thing as “gud barshin’” when you outnumber your enemy ten to six. Now she had sand in every crevice and just wanted to sleep. Maybe tomorrow would bring her some games. Mabybe….
“Mebbe dat’s da same stoopid pinky…”
There she was. Standing in the streets of Gadgetzan. Armed to the teeth with no medals or adornments of victory in battle. Grooda couldn’t resist. She drew and fired.
Laying face down in the sand that made up the “street” of Gadgetzan, Grooda smiled broadly. She was careful not to laugh, lest she alert the guards that she was not actually dead, but inside she chuckled heartily at the whimsical nature of her small world.