(These two stories were written in early or mid BC era. I dusted them off and made some tweaks to the original version of “Homecoming”)
Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda (prologue)
She told him of her childhood, her parents, and the sorrow of losing her mother while she was still young. He sighed heavily, looking up at the twinkling stars in the late evening skies over Thunder Bluff, and was struck with homesickness. He hadn’t seen his parents in many years, only having kept in contact with the occasional letter or news from a cousin in passing. It was time to go home.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I’ve got good news and bad news! The good news is I’ve been pretty busy these days, what with the Dark Portal opened again. The Hunt has taken me to all sorts of strange places, and to meet stranger faces. I’ve seen crazed orcs, their skin turned red from the fel energies within. I’ve also picked up occasional employment from a Steamwheedle Cartel-esque company called “The Consortium.”
Now it’s time for the bad news. I’m coming to visit, and since the postal service in your neck of the Barrens seems to have a fairly poor standard of speedy delivery, by the time you get this letter I’ll most likely be at your doorstep. If you do get this letter before I arrive, promise not to blow yourselves up before I have a chance to say “hello” and “goodbye.”
–Mingo
Homecoming
Mingonashoba’s kodo slowly plodded a mile or so from Ratchet, clouds of dust puffing forth every time the lumbering beast took a step on the sun-baked earth. The Tauren looked pensively over the shimmering stretch of the Barrens and sighed. He had mixed feelings about seeing his parents. Aside from mail and the occasional news from a family friend he hadn’t seen them since they shipped him to Camp Narache so many years ago. However the joy of seeing them again was tempered by the reality that he refused to stay home and tinker with contraptions like his parents, which he knew hurt them.
Well he could stop by at least, stopping by was considerably shorter than a “visit.”
Cresting a hill the old series of buildings popped into view, three altogether: one for living, one for his mother’s constructions, and one for his father’s contraptions. By the looks of it his mother and father had taken good care of the wooden structures over the years, and his mother’s plot had what appeared to be a large bunker fortification rising from the back.
"A bunker? When did they put that in? " He asked to no one in particular, though hoped his kodo was listening. “Dad never wrote, ‘Hello son. Ma and I miss you, and we hope you’re keeping safe. Oh yes, I built a huge stone hole in the ground over the winter.’ What does she need with that? Have they been inva–”
A thunderous roar erupted from the bunker, belching flame and smoke into the late afternoon air. His battle-hardened kodo was taken by surprise and reared back on onto its hind legs. Mingonashoba pulled at the reins, both trying to regain control of the beast and to keep from being thrown off his saddle. Just as quickly as the kodo had reared up, it slammed back onto all fours and responded to the perceived threat with rumbling bellow.
From the source of the explosion came the sound of thick laughter and the clapping of hands.
“Good,” Mingo thought, “mom’s home.”
(And that’s all I got, never did complete this story!)