[IC-Story] "An Azeroth Home Companion" by Treeclaw Starwater

Greetings, I am Treeclaw Starwater! Some of you may know already me, but I have thought about occasionally publishing my musings and life experiences. After mulling it over, I figured it was time to share them with you all. This column, “An Azeroth Home Companion”, will begin with the most mundane experience at your local inn:

Most mornings I wake at The Stonefire Tavern in Ironforge, my temporary residence, where the innkeepers, Mr. and Mrs. Firebrew, kindly offer generous breakfasts with my lodging. The dwarven pallet is much different than that of an elf’s; nevertheless, I have grown to appreciate the tastes offered by my hosts, even if I don’t quite understand why they call one of their dishes “mutton chops”.

Fare in Ironforge is rather hearty compared to lighter Kaldorei fare. Oftentimes, I find myself snacking throughout the day on fish, ricecakes, and the like. The dwarven fare wouldn’t allow for such a routine: for me, that would be a lavish indulgence for special occasions.

A few mornings ago I quizzically asked Mrs. Firebrew, “my friend, why are they called mutton chops? Exactly, why would someone chop them in such a manner?” Not known to hold back, she quickly lost composure and responded only in laughter.

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Pleasure to meet you Treeclaw Starwater!

Likewise, @Delorean! Without further ado, I have the next story prepared!

“An Azeroth Home Companion, Part 2: ‘I Haven’t Made It This Far’”

This next installment isn’t as lighthearted as the first one. As many of you know, our present military situation in Alterac Valley is dire. Alliance forces haven’t been able to breakthrough like we used to. Oftentimes, our defences crumble and even the Forest Lord hasn’t shown up to aid us. While writing this, I thought of all the smoudering guardposts, our fallen Marshals, and the current siege that we face. My second installment of “An Azeroth Home Companion” reflects on a battle where our forces, greenhorns who advanced too quickly, couldn’t seize the moment and turn the battle in our favour:

Alterac Valley is known for battles that have been waged for hours, days, and maybe even weeks. Unfortunately, the Alliance has been faltering where we once fought valiantly. This engagement was a rout: our ragtag forces couldn’t quickly advance past the Horde’s front line. Our defence crumbled, despite our stand trying to hold Icewing Bunker and Stonehearth Graveyard, and Dun Baldar was in flames. Our General was alive, but hardly, yet some managed to run past the no man’s land in the Field of Strife while our base was under siege. The Horde defences were formidable: we evaded their Captain, Galvangar, numerous archers, and their lieutenants were dead. Having gone this far, we knew there wasn’t much time.

There we saw it: the gates leading to Frostwolf Keep. Enough of us were there to engage General Drek’Thar. Without a cohesive plan, some of our ragtag assembly gained the attention of his Warmasters after crossing a series of solid, wooden gates. They charged and disabled our fighters. Drek’Thar retreated to his keep, knowing full well that his clan would prevail that day.

A paladin lamented, “I never made it this far”. It was once known that paladins could fool the Frostwolf Warmasters into abandoning their post; however, he fell before attempting to play any clever ruse. Our band slowly fell to the Warmasters, each charging and disrupting our medics’ concentration. Drek’Thar stood on guard in his bunker, knowing full well that he had held the protection of his brethren.

We might have lost the battle, though the war hadn’t yet ended.

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Pleased to make your acquaintance Druid. Perhaps we can share an ale the next time I pass through Ironforge.

Greetings, friends! This is a special edition of “An Azeroth Home Companion”, simply a reflexion of my experiences using the newly-expanded postal services used around Azeroth. With each day I find mailboxes where none had been before.

"Treeclaw’s Musings on the Post"

My present housing situation is “temporary”, yet I have lived at the Stonefire Tavern in Ironforge for months. The postman delivers my letters and goods to Ironforge, never making attempts to forward to my prior home—and my birthplace—in Auberdine, Darkshore. One might think the distance is quite far, especially knowing both locales are located on different landmasses, although modern ships can arrive much sooner than expected. The only form of travel faster are the massive blimps leaving Orgimmar and the ruins of old Lordaeron City. One might wonder what skill or sorcery is the postman employing to deliver mail so quickly, that even the old couriers leaving New Hearthglen take a day’s travel seem to be travelling at a snail’s pace in comparison.

Nevertheless, I had wondered why I haven’t been offered quicker delivery services. The bulk of my correspondence and parcels are within short distances, usually between postboxes in Ironforge and occasionally to Stormwind City. Mailing parcels of dried, preserved herbs, various tinctures, and freshly made food within the same city shouldn’t take so long.

However, given his reach, I’d say the postman is a miracle worker, delivering virtually anywhere an inn can be found. Surprisingly, the postman even offers routine deliveries to Silithus. With that said, I suppose I should never complain about the reliable turnaround his service provides.

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If only those that deliver our weather studies could be so efficient!

Greetings! This week’s “An Azeroth Home Companion” is deals with how two people, although from wholly different perspectives, may fight together. Nobility isn’t dictated by what you are—no, it is something that isn’t in Stormwind Keep, by my judgement—but rather something kindled in yourself.

"The Orc and I"

One morning I was collecting plaguebloom near Northdale, in what is now called the Plaguelands. Few signs of ordinary life stirred until I saw an Orcish warrior assaulted by banshees and a spectre. This fellow clearly needed aid, lest he would befallen the same fate as the shade attacking him. For a moment, I watched as he waged battle against these foes that far outnumbered him.

I couldn’t allow this man to die. A knight I had met in my travels—I recall he called himself Tirion—told me “I have known orcs who have been as honorable as the most noble of knights and humans who have been as vile as the most ruthless of Scourge.” The hostilities were not the responsibility of just one man, one endangered by our common enemy, the Scourge.

He kept sweeping his mighty axe at them with subtle footing, trying to gain some advantage before felling one of them. The others wouldn’t relent. He needed help.

I shifted out of my travel form, a feline embodiment of speed, where I immediately entangled one of the banshees striking the warrior. He dealt a blow that left the spectre on the verge of its next demise. Quickly, I channeled a Starfire from the heavens leading to its disintegration. The Orc and I turned our attention to the others, who immediately vaporized with our combined strength.

The Orc was wounded, but not fatally. He and I faced each other, stood at attention, and gave our salutes. Perhaps he and I will cross paths again someday…

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I wasn’t sure what I’d find when I started reading, but I can say this definitely was not what I expected…that barkeep was my sister and she tells the tale quite differently. But we do wish you well in your travels good sir…just remember to pay your tab next time.

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An Azeroth Home Companion by Treeclaw Starwater

“You better hoof it!”

Dustwallow Marsh, and the fortified town of Theramore, is one of the Alliance’s few outposts in Kalimdor. The dense, languid air of the swamps is suffocating to those not acclimatized to the humidity. On a normal day, billowing clouds can be seen rising from the southwest. An everpresent stench of smoke, charred wood, and scorched earth can be smelt even in the southern Barrens, weather permitting.

Around dusk, my friends and I—a large force of maybe 35 people—gathered to defeat Onyxia, in her Lair. The surrounding environs were free of any living trees, save their splinters and remnant stumps. The dragonkin guarded her Lair with increasing strength, becoming more powerful the farther we went in. The air’s stuffiness quickly became an overbearing dry heat as we climbed deeper into her Lair. Clutching our amulets, we pressed on to face the broodmother.

Surveying the inner chamber, we saw the broodmother lying in rest. To the left and right, pits where her eggs were lying in wait, ready to hatch at any moment.

“Perhaps we can launch a surprise attack”, someone wondered. The Black Dragonflight isn’t as careless as one of Stormwind’s guards during happy hour. One of our forces, a powerful druid, immediately became a bear and ran deep into her chamber. The broodmother sprung to her feet, greeting us with a roar. Half ran to the left, my assigned task force ran to the right.

A battle commenced, with our heaviest armoured folk trying to distract the black dragon to the back of her Lair. Our plan was to have our forces split into a pincer attack. Things seemed fine until she took to the air, where her broodlings emerged to aid their mother. My task force on the right hastily defeated the whelps. The left side wasn’t so fortunate: her powerful exhalation came as a shock, and fell a sizable number on their side.

The broodmother, gleeful that our pesky team wouldn’t relent, landed and shrieked to cause disarray. The situation was grim, yet we showed no willingness to retreat or die. A saying from among the Orcs, “Lok’Tar Ogar” comes to mind. We had no choice but victory.

My dear friend, a clever and socially adept wizard named Lachy, called out to me, “Tree, raise Superboots!”

Bewildered, I yelled in return, “why? Are you certain?”

“Yes, Tree! Do it!”

“He isn’t near me, friend!”

“You better hoof it!” was her last comment before conjuring another powerful Frostbolt. She smirked, knowing it was much larger than the last ones. I knew she wasn’t going to let Onyxia take her down without a fight.

Still, I didn’t like being told to “hoof it”. Afterall, the forms that I had learnt, those of the cat, the bear, one for traveling great distances, and the moonkin—my personal favourite—do not have hooves. Now, we didn’t have time to discuss this, so I resigned myself to the task. Our survival depended on it.

Worse, I can’t raise people frivolously. While this is a matter of life and death, I would treat my ability to raise people as a precious gift, since the forces of natural take time to be nurtured and built up. I felt confident that we, even with half our forces in critical condition, could overcome the broodmother. Still, I heeded my friend’s advice: someone had to be raised, and a priest as regarded as he would be the one.

I shouted, “where is he?” Scanning the room, I couldn’t see well past Onyxia’s towering frame and the fiery eruptions coming from the floor.

An echo, from far across the chamber, came from someone kneeling, having somehow resisted part of Onyxia’s flame breath and an assault from her newly-hatched whelpings, sputtered, “he… he’s here!” They were on their knees, almost ready to collapse from exhaustion.

While at first it seemed that I shrunk, I calmed my mind and dashed across the chamber. Avoiding her tail, as best as my agile feline form could, I found Superboots lying unconscious near the whelp pit.

Once again in my elven form, I raised my arm and a surge of energy surrounded the fallen priest. “Not tonight, Superboots!” He rose, and stood next to me, turning his attention to the sputtering friend seemingly on their last breath. The intensity of a priest’s magic is quite different than that of a druids: yet, the end result was that within seconds, his friend stood.

Brushing some of the dust and soot off himself, Superboots said, “thanks, mate!”

Staying to aid the left flank, we reached out and empowered those around us to fight. Wounds slowly sealed, bruises shrunk, and scars faded away. Turning our attention to the dragon, one of my friend’s Frostbolts dealt the killing blow.

Onyxia’s head jolted upright, as if a sudden pain coursed through her body. Her wings spread open, then she slumped forward. Onyxia had been slain, our forces—battered as they were—survived to witness her end.

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A valiant battle against a most fearsome opponent! Well done, friends!

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Glad to see your adventures in Azeroth are going well.

An Azeroth Home Companion
“Dinner at Iceblood”

Greetings!

The latest installment goes back to Alterac Valley, where the eternal stalemate rages across the snowy landscape. This is where I, in the usual fashion at the urging of the Alliance forces, crossed the Field of Strife hoping to somehow turn the tide of battle, perhaps through sabotage or an assassination.

At the top of Iceblood Tower, two eccentric fellows were seated. One, a knight, had lowered the Horde banner while the other, a fearsome old practitioner of the dark arts, carefully eyed the mountainous landscape. How these two gentlemen arrived this far puzzled me, since they can’t sneak past the Horde defences! The Horde sharpshooters had been felled, one missing a limb oddly enough, with mostly scars and ghastly wounds from magics that shouldn’t be discussed in polite company. My curiosity was piqued: how could one or two Alliance officers have reached this point virtually undetected?

My bigger question was how they were even working together? Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to discuss their views, which would have presented some fascinating perspectives of life on Azeroth, as this wasn’t an appropriate time.

The warlock’s “dog”—really, a felhunter he had subdued long after he had forsaken the arcane—growled. My presence may not be welcome here; perhaps it was even a carefully laid trap. The Commander, an Orc named Dardosh, that our Alliance fighters jokingly called “Dash” or something to that effect, was nowhere to be seen. I slowly prowled up the ramp, seeing nothing, but I heard some quiet conversation above me.

“Is your timer working? How long until the banner activates?” asked what was presumably the warlock.

A rustling sound preceded the reply, as the paladin unfurled a pocket watch from his bags, “Well, let’s see ‘ere! I reckon we’ve got a bit of time, long enough for supper, mate!”

“Great, I’m pretty famished. I suppose we can tuck in whilst we wait.”

“Righto” was followed by the paladin unwrapping some smoked steaks. The warlock unwrapped some bread, some okra, and gestured for the paladin’s attention. He rolled a can across the floor, that I heard as it clunked against the planks. POP!

The other voice, I’m guessing the paladin, said “Ah! Fizzy Faire Drink! I didn’t think ya had more! You devil!”

The warlock chuckled and opened a tin of his own. POP!

Hearing this, I crept forward, thinking I might be in good company. Afterall, I might enjoy a decent supper with them, notwithstanding the growling. When I crept into the tower, the felhunter’s growl stopped at a motion of the warlock’s hand. The warlock, hardly a naive man, felt my presence coming up the tower. My stealth training wasn’t exactly the best, but it helped whenever I needed it.

“Hullo!” the paladin exclaimed!

“Are you the reinforcements? I didn’t expect any with the Captain shouting over there”, the warlock said as he was polishing his monocle. He motioned in the general direction of Captain Galvingar’s bunker, slightly to our northwest.

“Not quite, I didn’t expect to see anyone else here, of all places. Is there room for one more?” I asked. The warlock and paladin looked at each other then glanced back at me. They didn’t utter a word. This quite moment hung in time, while I took in the sight of these men and the demon accompanying them.

Seeing these two, I thought they were more unusual than they let on. They were clearly not trained in covert operations, yet had gone past the initial Alliance offensive that day, and were taking supper atop Iceblood Tower. The warlock’s gaunt figure was shrouded in a grey-black cloak, a black and crimson gown with gold-trimmed wrists, and boots to match. His staff glowed a faint purple.

His companion, on the other hand, looked less elegant. His robe was an orangish hue, gloves were a brownish-green leather, not too unlike my own. He wore a red shawl and a cloak wrapped around him like a blanket, coloured green with a red and gold trim. His weapon was an odd femur or piece of an insect that had been violently broken off. I dared not to ask how he came across such an item. It gave off a yellow glow.

Both of them were seated on opposite sides of the room, with their backs to the wall. They expected an ambush. The paladin motioned for me to take a seat, offering a piece of steak. I sat between them, bracing myself against the wall, in my standard form, and unwrapped cartons of still-warm potato soup.

Handing one to each of them, I thought it was a matter of time to see if we could turn the tide of battle.

The only thing we could hear outside was the cold, windy breeze. We slowly took our supper, the only thing we could do as sunset was approaching.

I uncorked a bottle of Alterac spring mineral water, when both my acquaintances raised their tins and said “cheers!” I laughed, thinking they were great company. I took a sip, watching the paladin as something came across his mind. “Where is it, where is it? Aha! There’s the bloody thing!”

The paladin held a small piece of cardstock between two of his fingers.

“Ever see one of these? I swear by it!”

An intricately drawn representation of the Twisting Nether’s energies appeared on what appeared to be a trading card. “A professor of sorts said it empowers the bearer. Trust me, if you get one of these, don’t forget it!” He tucked it away, knowing he held something quite valuable. The warlock’s monocle glinted in the sun’s ray as he turned to me. “It’s quite a prize, if you’ve never seen one.”

“Indeed I have, perhaps once, but not too many have them. A friend of mine finds its power strangely… Amusing.”

An odd silence fell as we finished our supper. The paladin’s beef, and a slice of the warlock’s bread, were quite filling in addition to my spicy potato stew and the Westfall okra the warlock had. How he even had okra from Westfall in this environment, I’ll never know.

“Pardon me, how much longer do we have?” I asked the paladin. Sitting here felt like an eternity, something that shouldn’t be given the daily push.

The paladin, fumbling his watch, said, “eh, we’ve got a bit, mates.”

The warlock and I nodded. These fellows were clearly veterans, each bearing a Knight’s insignia and one representing the Stormpike forces. We sat atop the tower, waiting to hear heralds trumpeting the next push. So far, nothing happened.

Suddenly, the warlock clutched his staff, and rose, “we might have company.”

The paladin blessed the ground, making it glow a dazzling gold! I blended into the shadows, hoping to gain the element of surprise. The warlock was, for a second, dazed, when the guttural exclamation “Odes melka!” was accompanied by a hooded, bony figure. The warlock quickly gained his senses, pulsing fire around him. This unveiled another figure, a hooded Orc, who shouted “kek!” when he gouged the paladin. This was met by laughter, “you silly man!” This was followed by a Judgement, a divine hammer hitting the Orc who continued his flurry of attacks. The paladin began to appear ill, as did the warlock. Only seconds had passed, so I shifted back into the light and gave the warlock a burst of energy.

“Thanks!” he shouted but he then froze in place. The poisons were too much. The paladin slumped next then the hooded figures turned their attention to me. Unfortunately, the powers of the Nether didn’t help him today. My hapless acquaintances had both lost their consciousness.

The Orcish one of them uttered “dae-mon” shaking his head, while the bony figure said “Zugas re’ka.” The Orc bared his dagger in front of me, “zugas!” and left me defenceless. Before I could muster the stars’ power, I felt the paralysis overcoming my body. The bony figure laughed and lunged his dagger into me. Everything quickly turned black.

They didn’t intend to kill us, but were part of a reconnaissance force to scout for stragglers and pick off anyone foolhardy enough to get ahead of the offensive. They both turned their attention to the banner, quickly reactivating it back to the blood-red of the Horde. They then pulled our poisoned bodies outside, rolling them to the bottom of the tower out front, where they were discovered by a Wing Commander brave enough to run north. Later, a gryphon arrived to pick us up.

The next thing I recall is appearing in the cave, where a medic told me to stay put. I thought I heard the warlock asking questions about missing persons, before reuniting with his old friend, the slightly portly knight.

“I don’t see ‘im, I just don’t!”

“Neither do I. He seemed kind of wicked, too.”

“Do you reckon ‘e survived?”

“Only time will tell, right?”

Their footsteps grew fainter, as they left the cave. The last thing I remember was seeing their shadows out of the corner of my eye. They both had clearance to leave. I’ll always remember that duo—their camaraderie especially. Perhaps we’ll meet again sometime…

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Great story Tree!

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An Azeroth Home Companion by Treeclaw Starwater
“Not even the courtesy of a ‘hello’”

Greetings!

I certainly hope you’re enjoying “An Azeroth Home Companion”! When I began writing this, I doubted there would be so many people reading this. Now, this has had 449 views after just two months of posting stories. While the outpouring has largely been in private, people have given their praise and compliments of this series. Again, thank you, because this wouldn’t be possible wouldn’t be possible without your readership.

That said, I would like to begin our next installment. This week’s is rather brief—an editorial of sorts. I have met wonderful people travelling around Azeroth: they usually are courteous or at least willing to speak with yours truly. In fact, I often send correspondence to friends and good acquaintances: surely the postmaster would attest to this if they weren’t sworn to secrecy. Even so, I found a recent occurrence rather odd.

My good friend, Lachessis, and I were scouting resources in the eastern reaches of a kingdom formerly known as Lordaeron, now the so-called Eastern Plaguelands. Remnants of the land’s productivity are ghastly, decayed shells of their former farms and towns. The north has become a forest of deathly blooms, with fungi casting shadows over the former outskirts of Stratholme.

With the season changing, I found a generous amount of plaguebloom that late evening. Despite it being night, the environment was still the ruddy red-orange hue. Stars twinkled above. There were few living souls, as the wandering banshees and ghouls would say they haven’t left their land. My friend, a mineralogist, was thrilled to find excellent samples of rich thorium—the finest of its kind, especially when arcane crystals are found within the vein. When one of us found a sample, the other would be called over straight away to collect it.

We had been working for some time, and I needed to catch my breath. Needing a break, I shifted into moonkin form—truly my favourite of the druid’s forms, I must say—and sat atop a gleaming thorium vein that I had found. This was a neat little perch, quite unlike he many chairs in Stormwind City, because it shimmered in the night. A little bit passed, as my friend was rounding the impassible hills, when a mounted figure approached.

Clomp, clomp, clomp. This wasn’t my friend’s tiger. No, it was a someone’s horse. I watched as the figure approached, realizing it was someone who was no stranger to me. They ground to a halt, jumped off the horse, and drew out their pickaxe.

“Hello!”, I said from atop the vein. They remained silent, chipping away at the vein. I watched from atop my temporary perch as it slowly crumbled beneath me. A chunk cracked and rolled from the middle. It was quickly thrown into their pouch, the preoccupied rider swiftly jumped on the horse, and rode away without so much as an acknowledgement.

I slid off the crumbling rock, wondering how someone in this day and age could ignore someone in such a place. The people whom I’ve met are quite charming, sociable, and wouldn’t ignore someone—especially a person in such unusual circumstances. Perhaps some people are like the most entrepreneurial goblins, for whom only the profit margins matter. After all, he left without even saying “hello”.

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It’s always good times hanging around with my friend Treeclaw Starwater.

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An Azeroth Home Companion
“The Little Black Flower”

Greetings!

The latest “An Azeroth Home Companion” returns to a familiar landscape, the so-called Eastern Plaguelands, part of the former Kingdom called Lordaeron. My excursions there involve collecting plaguebloom, a plant that miraculously grows despite the most deplorable, life-endangering conditions in fields of decay and pestilence. Plaguebloom, despite its name, has properties that even affects the flow of life-giving magic. Seeing one blossoming is a sign that life hasn’t given up hope in death’s countryside. In my latest excursion, I met an acquaintance whose reasons for being there truly warmed my heart.

Once again, it was night. (It was the same evening my friend and I scouted mineral veins.) The stars were clearly visible, a small bonfire was burning in front of Light’s Hope Chapel, one of the few bastions of safety and sanity in the inhospitable landscape. The sky glowed a brilliant orange, much like a marigold in full bloom. The land and trees, once verdant and the latter evergreen, had become shades of mandarin and ochre. Aside from growling from the plaguehounds, the air was still and silent. Wearing my Knight-Captain’s uniform, I speed across the Plaguelands in my travel form, a form resembling the stalkers and huntresses in the Badlands, albeit a tad smaller.

On occasion, I stopped to pick plaguebloom. My satchel held a fair amount, enough to brew some Mageblood potions that I had learnt from the trolls of Yojamba Isle. The hounds didn’t bother me, at least not too much. Avoiding parts of the road and ruins of old settlements, I found myself rounding the hills and crossing where no living person should go—until I heard frantic galloping.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a prized flow: a black lotus glistening in the starlight. I immediately raced to it, hoping to collect it. Having been to the Gurubashi strongholds, I have learnt how to brew “Mojo Madness”, an unusual foul-smelling elixir that extinguishes a ceremonial flame. Of course, that’s another story for another evening…

I digress—the lotus was the sole thing on my mind. Safety and sanity meant nothing, if I could take it. Not even the most skillful herbalists of the Cenarion Circle could plant or cultivate them. Finding one of these was a remarkable feat of luck and patience.

The galloping was louder than my paws racing across the dry, stiff grass. A green cloak, with red and gold trim, flowed wildly as the rider’s greying long hair. The steed barely stopped before the figure leapt off the horse before the tiny lotus. He knelt, as though he was offering a solemn contemplation or prayer, before the little gift of nature. He saw me and immediately recognised who I was.

“By the Light, mate! You made it out of that infernal valley!”

It was none other than the paladin, with whom I had shared a lovely dinner in Alterac Valley. I shifted out of my spotted feline form, to greet him.

“Why, hello! If I may say, are you after…?” I stammered, knowing I’d possibly surrender the prize to this quirky, yet delightful, fellow. I didn’t feel bad, knowing it wouldn’t go to someone like that armoured fellow I had previously encountered.

He cleared his throat, and straightened his cloak a bit. The insect’s claw at his side was fastened to his belt, a makeshift sheath, if you will.

“Why, yes, I positively would love to have it! Were you trying to pick it, too?”

He eyed me, trying to hold back.

“Well, I don’t have an immediate, a pressing need for it…”

“Oy, you sure? I planned to have it made into something special for my mate, you remember ‘im from the tower?”

“The well-dressed fellow, wore a monocle?”

“Aye! That’s ‘im! I’ve travelled with ‘im for years! You see, it’s…” the paladin stammered a bit, motioning for me to come forward.

He whispered, “It’s going to be ‘is birthday soon. You know what? I know someone who’d turn it into a powerful tincture even if he’s incapacitated.”

“That’s incredibly kind…”

A warm feeling stirred within me. The paladin’s generosity was clearly powerful, especially when he was in one of the most perilous environments, seeking rare and exotic materials, just to help his old friend. Knowing this, I stepped back, waving my hand over the tiny black flower.

“Please, take it, my friend. It will do you more good than it will for me.”

The paladin nodded, “thank you, mate!”

He knelt, his green and brown gloves gave off an odd enchantment that gently caused the flower to raise from the ground unharmed. The knight gently laid it on a piece of cloth, opened his libram, folded the cloth, and pressed it between the pages. He buckled its clasp to keep it held in place at his side. The paladin, smiling, offered a salute, then raised his hand, granting me a Greater Blessing of Kings.

“Until we meet again!”

I returned the salute, “Elune light your path.”

He leapt onto his steed, riding off from whence he came.

If only those “dedicated” thorium ore gatherers were not such “automatically” minded individuals… Perhaps you could have had a discussion indeed.

An Azeroth Home Companion by Treeclaw Starwater
“A Trip To Westfall”

Greetings!

It has been a while, hasn’t it? My travels have kept me away a tad longer than expected, yet I have more to share, friends. The latest installment takes us to Westfall, a territory of the Kingdom of Stormwind, and what used to be the kingdom’s breadbasket. Recent turmoil has caused a hard of hardship there, leaving the farmers and workers behind after war efforts against the Burning Legion. A few individuals there manage to eke out a living, where you least expect them.

Over the past year, I have become a Master Alchemist, where I have developed expertise in brewing some of the most complex—and dare I say, rarest—patterns. In my research, I realised that I hadn’t yet acquired recipes for some of the less potent tinctures. Rumour had it that a member of the Defias wasn’t hostile to either citizens of the Alliance or even the Horde. I was intrigued and had to find this inidividual, knowing they might have instructions to boil and extract chemicals for the Rage Potion.

These days, Westfall had become a stop on my trips to the jungles across the hills, in Stranglethorn Vale. However, I needed to revisit the dilapidated town of Moonbrook to find that person, if they were truly there, for what I sorely needed in my notebook.

It was evening, the sun still high—though not too high—the sky was a medium blue, turning purple and eventually the faintest reds and orange were on the horizon. For a supposedly freewheeling merchant, these were prime hours for business while others were likely taking their supper.

After landing at Sentinel Hill, I surveyed the barren landscape: once productive fields lay fallow, and the lumbermill silent, few were outside. A woman, known as Heather, swept the steps to her modest inn. Upon seeing me out of the corner of her eye, she gave a smile and waved. While the accommodations at her inn are exceptionally modest, I always recommend visiting her inn even for a nap due to the nice beds, which have helped me whenever I needed respite during my trips farther south. The ordinary citizens of Westfall, at least those who remained or haven’t turned to the Defias, are incredibly hospitable and will even lend you their own shoes on a rainy day.

As much as I wanted to stay and chat, maybe even have some of Westfall’s famous barley bread, or even rolls made from their hops, I had to return a smile as I shifted into travel form, heading southwest before nightfall.

The village of Moonbrook, now occupied by the Defias, was rather quiet that night. However, a lone pickpocket was quietly lurking about, finding a hapless red bandana-clad man or woman to skewer in their kidneys. The pickpocket, a fairly young man, was blond, had brown eyes, and wearing worn out boots. While the ones worn by the Defias were in hardly better shape, they had holes in their sole and the right boot had been patched with felt or suede, simply to keep dirt and debris from getting into their shoes.

I shifted back into my typical form, that of a tall, elven figure with long blue hair, neatly held by ponytail. When I saw the young man fell his latest victim, someone with a small bounty on their head imposed by the Westfall Bridgade, I cured his minor wounds and granted him strength of the heart and wild, empowering him to finish his bounty hunt. The man, whose name I forgot, gave me a polite yet firm, hug, knowing that he didn’t have much to offer in return. (And, no, he didn’t pick my pockets, either!)

Peeking into the former blacksmith’s shop, I didn’t see this merchant. Lone houses were empty, many still with their former occupant’s meagre possessions inside. I left them be, if they wanted to return home, for what little they had. Walking into the inn, or the musty remnants of it, I quickly dispatched two burley men who, despite my skill in channelling the stars’ fury, lunged at me the moment I walked through the open door.

Unlike other inns, there was no tavern keeper, no butcher, and certainly no lively music played by musicians seeking to charm silver pieces from travellers. The atmosphere, much like Westfall, was that of desperation, desolation, and despair. A shame, because I had heard, from Gryan Stoutmantle himself, that Moonbrook’s beer bread was among the best that he had.

I slowly walked up the stairs, which held my body, despite the loud CREAKS that some of them made. Another masked man, waiting atop the stairs, bore his knife but collapsed after being hit by a surge of moonfire. Around the corner, I could hear murmuring, like counting. This wasn’t purely rumour: I then knew that I found the person I sought.

A raven-haired man, wearing a red mask, with a pickaxe at his side, was upstairs in what used to be a fine room. He simply nodded at me, a sign that he wasn’t ready—or willing—to fight. While he didn’t display all his earnings, a few pieces of silver from both the Alliance, and some with Orcish and an incomprehensible writing some might call “Gutterspeak”, were lined up on a small table.

“Are the rumours true, that you might have notes about crafting basic rage potions?” I asked, waiting for his response.

“Maybe I do, what’s your offer, man?” He squinted, perhaps trying to gauge who I am, or if this was a deliberate ambush. A freewheeling merchant in this profession doesn’t let their guard down easily. For every customer, they must surely have an enemy or competitor.

“It’s rather basic, and I’m a master alchemist, so I know it’s not the most valuable recipe. Even so, it’s not really something people talk about. How about a silver piece for it?”

The merchant chuckled, pulling a neatly-folded card out of his pocket? “A silver for this? Sure, but you better show me the money first, deal?”

I gently exhaled, “sure, is this fine?” while slowly holding out my palm with it lying face up. The man carefully took it, his hand still holding the folded index card. I reached my hand out for it. He watched my hands to ensure I wasn’t going to do “anything funny”, as he might say.

Once I held the card, I unfolded it: the rumours were true, the exact formula for a rage potion was there. A simple one, but a usable tincture. The merchant inspected sides of the coin, and pocketed it after he was convinced that it was genuinely minted by the Alliance.

“Anything else, buddy? This place gets rough, and I can’t guarantee that you’ll sleep well if you stay…” He motioned downstairs, where some laughing could be heard.

“Why, yes, do those boots have good insoles? They won’t squeak, will they?” waving my hand at some boots on a nightstand.

“These won’t squeak; they’re not cheap.” He stepped backwards, reaching over to the boots, gently flexing them. Knowing the young footpad was likely near, I thought that I might be able to surprise him with some new boots, to replace his old, patched ones.

“They’re a good quality, would you take twenty silver for them?”

He shook his head, “I won’t take less than twenty-six, it’s a seller’s market here.”

“That’s reasonable, deal?”

Doing the same thing, he held them by their tied strings while I held my silver in the other hand. He quietly stepped forward, not even squeaking the floorboards, while the exchange happened. The gentle chiming of the coins against each other was enough proof they coins weren’t forgeries.

“Thank you”, I said.

“No problem, man. Don’t get shanked.”

As I left, I carefully walked downstairs, focusing on the light coming from outside, so as not to be blinded and possibly caught off-guard by marauders. When that didn’t happen, I regained my bearings and saw the young man kneeling over his latest victim, a mage who took a dagger to their back. They didn’t see what happened.

The footpad wondered why I was still there. “Excuse me, I have something for you.”

Puzzled, he moved toward me “what do you mean?”

I held up the agile boots, “would these be a good fit? A dealer inside had them.”

“Yes, I can tell they will be, are you sure?”

“Please, I thought that you might like them.”

The aspiring cutpurse removed his boots, leaving them on the dry fountain, slowly tying them. “Thanks, they feel great!”

“You’re welcome, and until we meet again.” I shifted back into my travel form while he waved, so that I may continue toward the old lighthouse and beyond.

What an interesting place! I pass through there every so often on a mission to control the troll population of Zul Gurub. I had no idea that so much goes on!

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“An Azeroth Home Companion”
The Forest Lord, Part 1

Greetings!

“An Azeroth Home Companion” once again returns to Alterac Valley, the site of on ongoing battle between Alliance and Horde forces. While full-scale war generally involves greater mobilisation of forces, the operation spans an entire valley, rather than a narrow, dry ravine like Warsong Gulch, or swatches of farmland and ranchland in part of the Arathi Highlands. The last offensive—explicated in a prior story—never came to pass. Reinforcements never arrived, meaning my acquaintances and I were ambushed before we could “peel the artichoke”, as Vanndar Stormpike wrote.

The following morning, preparations were made for another offensive push. With emissaries in our cities, recruitment was at unseen levels. People who had never fought made the trek to the mountains, whereas seasoned veterans and elite forces were recruited for valour and promises of commendations. After demonstrating their tactical mastery in the Arathi Basin, maybe the former’s knowledge would help the Stormpike Guard’s cause.

The elite forces were largely composed of the highest ranks, the Commanders, Marshals, and Field Marshals. An intermediate-level office, a Knight-Captain, such as myself wasn’t privy to their discussions. They largely expected the mass to follow their instructions, hoping to achieve a quick, decisive victory. Attempting to “rush Drek” failed that morning, meaning our plans were temporarily foiled whilst they tried to devise the next strategy. Rumour had it they wanted to employ a “snowblower” to demoralise Horde forces before attempting to hold the Iceblood Towers and graveyard.

Whilst inside the tunnel connecting the foothills to the valley, I encountered acquaintances whom I had met in Iceblood Tower.

“Hello! It’s great to see you again!” I shifted into moonkin form, so as to garner their attention.

The paladin, seemingly lost in thought at first, brightened up, “Hullo! Glad you’re ‘ere mate!”

The warlock, standing nearby, was busy tending to his minion, drawing an odd pellet from his pocket, that it quickly devoured. The pellet was an odd grey-green, and quite hard as evidenced by the beast’s jaw snapping at it. He turned to me, realising that I wasn’t a stranger, and returned the wave.

“Hello, that was a wicked fight. I guess we can try again today.” The warlock smirked, patting his felhunter’s head.

We were barely holding Stonehearth by a thread, but at least Balinda held his position and the path in front of her bunker was clear. The lower ranks were talking about different plans, one man drew out his fishing pole and slowly walked north, others were visibly restless. The Marshals, with their own ideas, told us to hold our ground and wait for the next push behind the rocky outcrop. This battle had become a stalemate, with both sides’ forces on opposite ends of the Field of Strife, with the Horde morale bolstered by Captain Galvingar’s shouts. The next wave was due to arrive within minutes.

When silence fell, I offered my advice, “A while ago, I spoke to the other druids in Dun Baldar about the forest’s power. Even here, nature lives beneath the ice and snow. I came across these unusual gems, presumably harvested by the Horde, and Renferal, the Archdruid, told me that we may be able to request assistance from none other than the Forest Lord himself. I believe that we may entertain such a notion.”

A woman, Field Marshal Healsanna, moved forward, flanked by her burly friend. Healsanna’s gown was blue and white, her epaulets stuck up, gently curving, and her hair was blonde, wavy, and fell below her shoulders. She carried a staff with her, one that resembled what the Archbishop of Stormwind held. Holding her nose high, she flung her hair so as to say, “I’m better than you”.

The Field Marshal mockingly saluted me, whereas I politely returned one, before she finally spoke, “Excuse me, that’s the silliest thing I’ve heard all day! You can’t possibly think some tree god or whatever will help us, when we’ve won dozens of skirmishes this week!”

The warlock, standing nearby, chimed in, “This doesn’t seem different than rituals that I’ve studied. If this Forest Lord’s benevolent, we’ll have a powerful friend. You can count me in, chap.”

“Aye, I reckon this Forest Lord carries the Light, from what I’ve heard. I’m at yer service, mate! Er, Knight-Captain!”

A man, wearing a Lieutenant Commander’s medals, unstealthed between us, “I couldn’t help but overhear, but I think these fellows are right. The Frostwolf won’t expect it, and it’ll give us time to push.”

The priestess and her buddy laughed even harder at us, “you’re so naive! Have fun, boys, while Chadwick and I fight the war!”

The priestess’ acquaintance, a Marshal named Chadwick, carrying a large sword, chiefly made of obsidian, looked at the Lieutenant Commander and gave a hearty laugh, “You’re wrong, stealthy man, you’re just supposed to run to Frostwolf and play with their flags until I come to chop their heads off!”

We slowly turned away, walking in the snow along the winding mountainous road, to find cover before we returned to base. Even the gentlest breeze sounded like whispers running through the valley. The master pickpocket jingled his pockets—chuckling, of course—before displaying a Storm Crystal in his hands, “there’s plenty more where that came from!”

The rogue, warlock, paladin and I slowly faded away, Stormpike insignias in hand, before we materialised in Dun Baldar, our base of operations. Running north and around the bunkers and snowbanks, we found the grove where Archdruid Renferal herself was here, with green hair just above her shoulders, wearing simple, yet sturdy, leather armour lined with fur on the interior due to the cold.

“What brings you here?”

Catching my breath, I stammered “is it…”

I couldn’t finish, but held a Storm Crystal with my thumb and index finger at my eye level. The rogue quickly handed an endless supply of these small, green-white orbs to the other druids. (How he came across so many puzzled me, but I won’t question his skill and tactics!) The warlock and paladin had a small handful each, which they cheerfully gave to the druids. Upon realising how many we had, Archdruid Renferal gave a loud cry: “Soldiers of Stormpike, aid and protect us! The Forest Lord has granted us his protection. The portal must now be opened!”

Elerethe Renferal and her aides called their tigers, and briskly rode south. Our course of action was in motion, having retreated from the graveyard’s defence, leaving the Field Marshal, her allies, and the ragtag Alliance recruits to fend off Frostwolf advances. The ritual could be performed only if the druids survived their journey. Little did the rest of the Alliance forces know, this was our only chance for victory, else we’d retreat to the cave where we’d ponder “what next?”

My friends and I had no choice but to press on.

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