Grisan
Posts: 4
(9/22/05 10:33 am)
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Grisan's Story, a work in progress
A lone dwarf sits astride her white ram, high above the Horde Settlement at Tarren Mill. A cold north wind from Alterac cuts through the heights and the sounds and smells of a battle raging assault her senses. The smell of burning flesh and screams of agony fill the air around her and she shivers slightly. As she shifts slightly in her saddle, the creak of leather and chinking of her mail armor alerts her companion.
Immediately his ears prick towards her and he slowly stretches his way into a standing position. Vigorously he shakes his head and his whole body, from nose to tail is a blur of fiery red fur. With that ritual complete, he silently pads to her side and places his broad head against her knee.
The dwarf looks down, smiles at him and then scratches behind his left and then his right ear.
"Well Shakes, if we're gunna get this mithril smelted and to Mylor in time for payment, we're gunna hafta go through that."
She points towards the battle below and shrugs.
"Or, we could always go back through the Ogres and Yeti. We do that we may get more mithril, mebbe even some truesilver."
The ram snorts and paws at the ground anxiously.
"Oh? Since when do you get a vote? I was talkin' to the dog."
The dwarf sighs heavily, gives her mount a pat on the neck and turns south, towards the great Dwarven Stronghold of Ironforge.
“I’d much rather be heading back to Aerie Peak and the Wildhammers, but for once, you do make some sense, ya old goat. C’mon Shakes, we’re going back home for a bit, let’s try and avoid trouble on the way.”
She lightly spurs her ram forward and the nimble and quick ram has them out of the foothills and onto a well traveled road, heading towards Ironforge, in no time. The ember worg runs ahead of his mistress and ranges off the road in search of hares and other delightful treats to chase. The cool crisp air of the highlands starts to get heavy and fetid, as the small party makes their way towards the wetlands.
“Argh, we should have flown to Ironforge. At least we’d not have to deal with this blasted heat and humidity.”
The white ram tosses and shakes his head in what appears to be agreement. The dwarf whistles shrilly and the worg lopes casually back into sight.
“Get on back here, Shakes, I wanna keep you in my sights, lest some eejit decides that they fancy your mangy hide. Let’s get a move on, we should be able to make it to the pass before nightfall.”
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