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Monthly Archives: December 2018




The Fall





Quista brushed the hair out of eyes as she continued to fire her massive Dwarven Hand Cannon.  Goblins and ogres were everywhere.  She saw Rastorem take a crushing blow from Baron Dracov a human paladin.  The blow seemed to be more than Rast could bear as he feel to knees stunned.  That was when Felonius caught Dracvo by the throat and pulled him to the ground.  Poppapump then stepped in and began casting a healing spell on Rast restoring is health. Unfortunately this left him open to the attack from nearby ogres.  Poppa let out a shriek of pain and collapsed. Baaradon seeing the fallen healer fired a quick concussive shot stunning the ogre and dash over to his comrade.  Quista still firing at the advancing mob watched as Baar slung his weapon and drew his jumper cables from one of packs. As his charged the cables Narrak the Mauler leapt from seemingly nowhere trying to catch the Tuaren with his guard down.  Quista signaled to Hiruskiya and Gndgekleg to hold the line as she rushed to Baar’s aide.  Quista commanded Concur her fateful pet to attack the approaching ogre began firing upon as she reached Baaradon.

      “I should have known you’d turn a rescue attempt into one of our usual dates.”



3 Month Ago…

The Sun was beginning to set in the Barrens as Quistadora rode toward Crossroads.  She was careful not to attract the attention of the kolkars, not that she couldn’t handle them.   As she neared the golden road she started to feel dizzy.   Quistadora dismount and staggered forward; realizing something wasn’t right she instinctivly drew her blades.  The weight of her enchanted weapons was too much and she began to lose her grip.  Her vision blurred she scan her surroundings trying to find the cause of current condition.  She dropped to one knee using her blades to prop herself up.  A wave of nausea rushed over and she doubled over puking up things hadn’t even remembered eating.  The last of her energy spent she release her hold on her blades and toppled forward.  Her last thoughts being I hope I don’t land in the vomit, and then everything went black.


          A deviant fish struggle to get free, impaled by a hook.  It tugged and tugged against the pull of the hook that held it fast.  The desperate pulls on the hook almost made the pole it was attached to fall from its owner’s hand.  All this movement woke Baaradon from a sound sleep. He hand’nt realized how tired he was. He had spent most of the day tracking down thieves who robbed him that morning.  The large Tuaren reeled in his catch and tucked it away in a pouch with 5 others he already caught.  That was when he heard foot steps of a raptor approaching.  Baaradon was on his feet in an instant with his fishing pole in hand.  It wasn’t exactly his 1st choice of weapon but it have to do.  What he then saw took him by surprise.  It wasn’t an untamed Raptor from the wild instead it was a domesticated riding raptor.  Imeediatley recognizing the raptor to be Quista’s, he dropped the fishing pole, grabbed his axe and dash off in direction the mount had approached from. 

          Baaradon followed trail which ended when he reached the golden road.  There was no one to be found.  After using his spyglass to survey the outlying area, he began investating the ground looking for some sort of clue.  What he found disturbed him. Tuarens had a unique bond the with nature that gave them and edge when they trained as Druids, shamans and hunters. Hunters were able to track just about anything, and everything left a trail that could be tracked except magic.  Magic though detectable and even though it could sometimes be matched to it’s source it was untraceable unless at the time of its use. The trail coming to an end and not picking up again along with the use of magic could only mean one thing.


The portal opened and two figures emerged dragging a third.  Scyrun sat upon his wolf mount. The orc, spit at the ground as the two new arvials present their prize.  “What do we have here, a new on eh?  Markesh  get over here and inspect this troll.”   A fat orc  ran out of a tent and over to the Quista’s limp body. 

“A fine specimen, master.  She should do well.” Markesh then paused and almost went pale.  “Wait she’s a Mute Assasin!  This one may be trouble.” 

  “I doubt that,  She just one troll.  The Assasins have no idea she’s gone and way to trace us here.”  The robe figures who had brought her argued. Scyrun contemplated it for a moment. 

“The slave is correct.  We’ll beat any difinace out of her and a her guild won’t know she’s here.”  Markesh nodded relucatantly.

“As you say master.” The fat orc then looked to the robed slaves.  Take her to be processed before she wakes.”   Scyrun’s wolf growled and his master soothed him.  Markesh looked wearily as the slaves carried away Quistadora. 

“Don’t look so worried Markesh.  The Age of The Scarlet Blade is almost at hand.  Both Alliance and Horde alike will bow to us and beg to join us.” He pulled on the reigns of wolf and it reared and growled. Markesh trying to look inspired turned followed slaves the processing tent.

The slaves all wearing robes that obscured their appearance quickly removed all of Quistadora’s clothing and armor.   When they finished the left her naked, sprawled out on large table.  Well the table was large to them.  Since the only stood about 4 feet high and troll females were about 6 feet, she actually covered the table. 

Quista slowly began to come to as one of the slaves stood over her chanting.   Before the slave could finish his cast two large blue toes slap him in the face knocking him to them ground. Quista sprang up from the table landed on her feet in a crouched position.  Some of the slaves froze in terror.  Others were taken by the beauty of her naked form.

 Markesh heard crashes and terrible scream from processing tent brought a couple orges with him. When they entered tent the Orc’s green skin went pale white a second time.  Blood, robes and limb were thrown everywhere. In a darken corner of the tent pair of eyes watched the 3 of them with intense fury. Markesh laughed.

“ I told Scyrun, she’d be trouble. Subdue her…Painfully.”  The two Orges charged her position.  Quista leapt forward crossing half the diastace between them and using hands to propel her further she completed a  flip planted a foot squarely in the Ogre’s gut.  She then in the same fluid motion used the ogre’s belly as a spring board and launched the second ogre hands out reached to grab his throat.  The 1st clumsy tumbled backward from the blow he had substained.  The second ogre fell against and then through one of the support colloums with Quista swinging from his neck.  There was a thunderous crash the troll dug nails deep into the orge’s flesh.  Unfortunately her fury clouded her natural instanct to mind her surroundings and those in it.  Markesh bashed her in the back of the head with a large club and Quista’s naked body went limp again as she slid off of the ogre on to the floor.  Markesh looked around tent at the carnage that one unarmed troll had caused and shook his head.

“Yep, trouble.”


BaarCrawl 02