Wednesday, May 19, 2010

In Which Our Hero Begins To Have an Epiphany

You know, I'm startin' ta think that the Cenarion Circle isn't the happy shiny people they claim to be.

It started in Darnassus. Nice town, there. Not a decent tavern to speak of - you couldn't find yerself a decent brawl to save your life, let me tell you - but still, very nice. Clean. Pretty. Safe, too. No crime to speak of, really. Not like some other cities, which I won't name outta respect, where you can have run ins with folks like the Defias or black dragons impersonating politicians. There's a big Cenarion presence there, prol'y thanks to Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm puttin' the Cenarion HQ right smack there in the city and all.

So in wanders me sweet little self - the soul of kindness, I am - and Staghelm starts spinning me the party line about nature and bein' in balance and all that other rot. I'm nodding in the right places, I guess, 'cause he leans over and lowers his voice, and tells me that he's looking for someone who can help him with a... supply problem.

He's looking for Morrowgrain.

Frankly, I'm like, OK, sure - whatever floats your boat, Staggy ol' boy. Only I don' say it out loud, like, because me Mama dinna raise no rude little Dwarven death dealers. I do tell him, sure, I'll keep an eye out for it. I heard tell that there were some Orc kids and even some younger Night Elves who were into it for some reason, which made it kinda weird that he was interested, ya know? He musta seen sumthin' in my expression, though, 'cause I got another earful of the "restoring the balance" and "protecting the environment" and "I'm so important" and yadda yadda yadda, I get it already Staggy, just let me get on with it!

Well, ta make a long story short (old Dwarven joke there, I know, but the old ones are the best ones, right?) I found him his morrowgrain, but in the process, got a competing offer from one of his Lieutenants. Quintis was a nice enough guy, a little smarmy for me, but that's night elves for ya, true enough. All manners and courtesy and what not. He was looking for a morrowgrain supplier, to, but wanted to keep in on the sly, wink wink nod nod, know what I mean? No reason for ol' Staggy to know about it.

He gave me the same line as I got from Staghelm, about "research", minus the "I'm too important for ya, stop wastin' my time, ya wee blighter!" talk that Staggy likes. I think he's missin' a bit in the confidence category, ta tell ya the truth - always has to reassert himself. Sign of a leader who doesn't think his position's secure, ya know? Always know where your hammer is, my Mama used ta tell me. Da used to tell "Listen to yer Ma, Aeven, and make sure it's in the other buggers face!", which has served me well, let me tell ya. Now, Staggy, he looks like he's always waitin' for that hammer to tha face.

Speakin' o which, my next clue was Silithus. Sure, it's a dangerous, dry, dusty, hell-hole of a place, but really - there's a whole freaking Cenarion army out there. I thought these fellas was all about peace and love and balance and what not, ya know? And here I am, wanderin' into what's prol'y one a tha most heavily armed encampments in Kalimdor, and it's Cenarion Circle bruisers as far as tha eye can see, bristling with weapons and armor and it makes me poor lil' knees weak just thinkin' aboot all the concern'trated mayhem in one spot.

So, see, what I'm sayin', is they got themselves a lot of bruisers on the budget. As in, an amazingly blightin' lot of bruisers. What do druids need with all that muscle, you ask? Well, they were there to preserve the balance, yadda, fight the Silithid, yadda, yadda, and oh, while yer out there, Aeven, could you pick us up some a that there Silithyst dust that's blowin' around? It's all natural stuff, ya know. Perfectly good and healthy for ya, really. We'll take everything you can bring us, and pay ya well for it, too.

So, by this point, I've just about had it with runnin' errands for them, carryin' grass from one end of tha world to another. Now they want me goin' out and pickin' up this white powder for 'em wherever I might find it? C'mon, sonny boy! It's not even like it's real minin' and all, it's just findin' the raw stuff and haulin' it back to ya for "processing"! Makes me feel like some sorta mule, it does.

All that was weird, but it dinna hold a candle (Kobold joke there - I gotta million of 'em, thanks to my Uncle Gerald. Weird lil' blighter, but we kids loved 'im!) to what I saw of the Cenarion Circle in tha Outlands. That's when I really started to wonder...

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