Of Fairies and Flurries

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ImStrokerAce
Orc Champion
Posts: 472
Joined: Sun Jan 09, 2005 7:41 am
Location: British Columbia, Canada

Of Fairies and Flurries

Post by ImStrokerAce »

Of Fairies and Furies
Rako Cat’ra stormed into the House of Heroes, appearing to be in an especially foul mood. The door slammed behind him, as the eyes that lurked in his helm scanned the Temple for someone to confront him over his ill-mannered behavior. He muttered and cursed his way over to the door to the lower levels before disappearing into that entry. With a vengeful strike, he made his way over to one of the tables, grabbed up quill and parchment and began to write:
“I, Rako Cat’ra have recently had some experiences in the Westwood that needs to be repeated for reconnaissance value. If any of you thrice-cursed, whoremongering bastards get it in your head to try and mock me for this, you better do so from long distance and deep cover, ‘cause I aint in the mood for flapping gums at my expense…"
Marpenoth 23, 1400 Dale Reckoning, Solo Patrol in Westwood.
Nothing much out of the ordinary for first few hours, Worgs, Wolves, no sign of Blight or much else. A Few hours travel North Western and the air began to thicken and feel heavier, a general feeling of wrongness manifested as a scratching in my head. This feeling intensified rapidly to the point I took to striking my helm with my gauntlet for any sort of relief. A shrill squeaking started to sound in my ear, so I intensified my efforts. Either annoyed or terrified at my actions, a small pixie looking creature flew out of my ear channel and flew around my head repeatedly, in what sounded like scolding before taking wing into the forest and out of sight. A tactical withdrawal was made to further assess these actions.
Marpenoth 24, 1400 Dale Reckoning, Return to solo Patrol in Westwood.
Having recovered from the previous day, a return to the Westwood was in order. I immediately broke North West with no delay, eager to find sign. Followed an odd set of tracks that turned out was a Grey Renderer on a rampage. It was put down. At the Old Elven ruins, a sharp and biting cold wind boiled up, cold enough to freeze the surface of the stream and frost the plants. This inclement and supernatural weather change heralded a frost-laden rider perched on a white horse. It wasted little time giving intent, as it blasted me with a barrage of ice and snow. I gave him a few bolts for his trouble, but the damage done to the rider seemed to heal quick, as the wounds sealed back over. Due to the inference of some Worgs and a Wyvern, I took to being unseen to apply some beneficial enchantments and then stormed the Frosty bastard, opening up with a pair of fire bombs. I closed with and let the lash do my talking. Old Frosty was skilled, and if not for the enchantments, I might be sprouting mushrooms. With the final lash, he went down, collapsing into a pile of lifeless slush and I went off to make this report.
Watch your steps in the Westwood.
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Mephis the Awkward Mage
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