Eragoin's Journal #1: Whelpling, GSI Meeting, and Raiding 101.14

'ello mon! It be Eragoin here, reportin' to ya from ma headquarters in Da Broken Isles. Honestly, the whole troll accent thing doesn't cut the cheese for me. Sure, we may talk that way, but us trolls need to push past that barrier and write like some noble human living in the rich quarters of Stormwind -- wherever that may be. I hate getting mail from my buddy trolls and I can't understand a thing they say because it's written with the worst grammar. C'mon guys! Didn't you learn anything in the Orgrimmar Academy? I guess Mrs. Blackeye didn't cast hellfire on you enough.

I'm here today to tell of an epic tale that involves yours truly. Okay, maybe it wasn't epic, but it sure was to me anyway. I guess that's all that matters. Ah, don't bite my stylus! Oops, I have a tendency to write down whatever I say aloud, so please don't mind that remark. I don't have an eraser on me. My new pet is sort of irritating me. All I hear are flapping wings reverberating throughout my ears and I can barely concentrate -- hence my poorer than usual grammar usage. Ah, yes. I received a new pet today. Even though it looks fearsome (yet cute), it can't aid me in battle. I'll have to keep my rare saber cat, Rhornin, for that task of combat. Before I reveal what my pet is, let me tell you of my legacy of trying to obtain this . . . thing.

I was walking through Orgrimmar for exercise (I've been gaining weight from eating too much grilled squid) when I passed by the bank and noticed that I had mail. I reached my hand into the mailbox and felt a large bulky object. It was composed of a large bundle of papers, bound together with mageweave string. The weekly newspaper, Warchief's Digest, arrived. I eagerly pulled out the bundle and scanned the front page. Nothing interesting. Alliance raid killed twenty peons at Razor Hill, Cairne Bloodhoof had a child, and the Health Department for the Horde! issued a warning that the sludge in Undercity was building up in the canals. What else was new? The most interesting article was that Durotan's ghost was sighted in a bikini off the coast of Westfall, splashing in the water among the murlocs. The following article then stated how the journalist who published the above article was beheaded on the account that his false claims offended Thrall. However, in the economy section of the newspaper, a notice was printed on how a rare item was said to be held by the blue dragonflight members at Lake Mennar in Azshara. The item was in fact believed to be a caged whelpling that the dragonflight were experimenting on with artifacts that were found in the old Highborne ruins. The article went on to say that adventurers should seek out this pet before Azuregos finds out what his kin are up to, and would possibly kill the young whelpling to put an end to their experiments. Also, it stated how the Horde should obtain this pet before the Alliance finds out about it and retrieves it first. I threw the newspaper aside, ran into the bank to retrieve my armor and weapons, called my combat pet Rhornin to my side, and ventured off to the forgotten lands of Azshara.

Once I arrived in Valormok, I realized how stupid I was not to find out directions to this lake that the article mentioned. I asked the locals, but they were too arrogant and asked for gold in return for an answer. I wasn't going to be weak and ask for directions by paying up (a tip that every man should apply), so I called my black war raptor, mounted up, and went off to . . . somewhere. I never felt so lost in my life. I was ganged up on by nagas, pinched by crabs, clawed by giant flying two-headed things, and pounded by some large rocky mountain giants. It wasn't fun. Night was falling. I was tired, exhausted, and beaten up. I nodded off to sleep while my mount did the venturing for me. I started to dream of my love, when all of a sudden . . . 'Splash!' I woke up in a large puddle of water. My raptor fled, due to its extreme fear of water, and my pet Rhornin rushed to my side. I didn't care, really. I could've fell fast asleep floating in that lake . . . lake!? I looked around at my surroundings with newly awakened eyes and realized that the crater I was in was indeed Lake Mennar. I could tell based on the description that the article had: Old ruins litter the environment of the lake . . . and indeed they did. All of a sudden, I heard a grunting sound. My pet sprang into action. I turned around and saw a large blue reptilian-like creature marching toward my party in the lake. It had a large spear and wielded strips of plate armor. With the light of the two moons, I could see the multitude of razor-sharp teeth that lined its mouth. Rhornin bit and clawed at the strange creature. With instinct, I pulled out an arrow from my quiver, grabbed my crossbow, and fired away. Then repeated the process over and over. The blue scalebane was doing its toll on my pet, so I channeled the energy to heal my pet. Then, I sent an arcane shot directly toward the chest of the fiend. This didn't do any fatal damage, but it only made the dragon aware of my presence. However, my dual steady shots did the trick, and the dragonspawn marched toward me, spear pointing directly toward my heart. I had to act quick! I slapped myself in the face, and fell down into the lake, feigning my death. The gullible dragon believed that I killed myself. Therefore, it turned around and resumed its attack on my pet. I sprang up from the lake, charged toward the fiend, and struck it in the back with my axe with the power of the raptors. The scalebane fell. The victory wasn't easy, and I was able to conclude that these dragons were elite beasts. Thankfully it didn't spray me with the fire that burns within it, like the fantasy books used to say. Wait, weren't there different types of dragons? Ah, I forget. I examined the corpse for any possessions, but only found a handful of silver and copper and some freshly cooked meat that it must've been saving for later. This dragon wasn't the one holding the whelpling, but there were probably many more left to kill until I found my prize. I took a quick nap, awoke at dawn, and charged at a mageweaver. Only I wish I knew that I would be fighting here for days.

How you doin'? Looks like ya got some blood on yer face there. Lemme get it for ye, with ma axe!

Four different types of dragons dominated the surroundings around the lake. Mageweavers, Scalebanes, Magelords, and Dragonspawns housed themselves in this secluded area of Azshara. Day after day, I repeated a usual routine. Wake up at dawn, kill until dusk, and then go to bed. Occassinaly I broke up the mundane ritual by taking any worthwhile items that I found from the dragon's corpses to the auction house in Orgrimmar. Let me tell you, the only thing that kept me going were the pretty pennies that I was making from successful sales. I feared that I would put the blue dragonflight of the region into extinction, but after days of killing them, they just seemed to be coming back from the grave to avenge their death. Honestly, I swear I counted over two thousand kills once. Two weeks passed until today. Today was the day that would make my life happier.

I was starting to get bored with this constant fighting of the same enemy. I was starting to doubt the claim of the newspaper. I mean, this was the same paper that said that Thrall's father was catching some rays and eating some murloc fin soup in Alliance territory. C'mon! Sometimes a blood elf paladin or a orc hunter would stop by to kill some, but they soon left after a few kills. I began to get really nervous of retrieving my prized treasure when a human mage came onto the scene. The Alliance knew about the whelpling! If the Alliance flocked here like they do when somebody informs them that the Horde is raiding somewhere, then I knew that I would have a crowd here soon. I slew the dragons faster, looted their corpse, skinned them for their leather, hide, and scales, and went onto the next one in record timing. I became so used to looting them that I was surprised when I saw a rather bulky container held by one of them. A new item. It happened a lot, especially when a rare weapon or piece of armor was found. But this wasn't anything that could be wielded. It was a cage! And inside the cage was an azure whelpling, begging to be let free. I rejoiced at the sight that filled up my scope! I quickly opened the cage, and to my joy and surprise, the azure whelpling did not flee from me, but rather stayed by my side as if I tamed it. I had a new companion!

Picture of my new band. From left to right: Eragoin, Blu Glu, and Rhornin.

I had the azure whelpling. Finally. And it was mine. Temptation to sell the lil' cutie for hundreds of bags of gold at the auction house soared out of my mind. I couldn't break the bond that the two of us had. Our souls were bound as one now. Let me tell you, I couldn't have been happier leaving Lake Mennar for the last time, riding on the back of my raptor while my azure whelpling fluttered closely behind me, avoiding the whipping tail of my mount. I'm not going back to Azshara for a very, very long time.

Quite frankly, I obtained Blu Glu, which I named my whelpling based off the ice cream brand created by those goblins at Mirage Raceway that they discontinued, right before my guild, Gnome Squishing Inc., had a scheduled meeting. I couldn't bask with Blu Glu in the rays of the sun for long, as I had to stop off at the auction house, repair my armor and weapons at the local gunsmith, and fly to the inn at Ratchet for the meeting. I was the first there, of course. I had nothing better to do with my spare time now that I had the only thing that was my goal. I got drunk off of some ales at the inn, took a nap on a straw bed laid out on the floor, and started to dream of my love, when . . . "Eragoin is a jerk." I jumped up, wondering who said my name and described me in such a rude manner. There in front of me was an orc hunter. His tusks shined in the firelight of a nearby torch, and I realized that I forgot to receive my monthly waxing.

The crew discussing politics over a few tubs of mead. New candidate for warchief? I don't think so!

This orc was one of my fellow guild members, Urcuzyoda. Behind him in the background, I noticed a female blood elf who was another guild member, Esotericsyn. May I add that the guild meeting was only for the ranks of high warlord and up, and there was only a handful of us at the meeting. Others that came included Tyregen, the guild leader, Hoogie, the co-guild leader, and Tatankh. Sorry if I forgot somebody. My mind isn't the best. In this meeting, we discussed possible guild events, such as a triathlon, scavenger hunt, lottery, instance runs, and raids, bank access, in which we voted to give the peons of the guild access to the first tab of the guild bank, and discussed recent guild conflicts that have been happening. All in all, it was a very successful meeting, until . . .

The sirens rang in Ratchet. Or at least, the siren mute to the ears of the Alliance. To the Horde, it stated that our people were being attacked in the town. Tyregen quickly rushed out of the inn. I followed him, including the other members of the party. A night elf hunter was causing trouble in the streets below the cliff that housed the inn. Tyregen, Urcuzyoda, and I were powerful enough to take down this opponent in only a few hits. Yet, the night elf's spirit kept on combining with its body, even after death, and he prolonged his rage to attack a few more of our people. The meeting was disrupted a lot because of this foe, and others came to help him, including a very strong hunter. However, Gnome Squishing Inc. saved Ratchet from these fiends. The bruisers of the town, however, kicked us out for fighting, so the meeting was forced to end.

The raid group on the ship heading to Rut'theran Village. For the Horde!

Sadly, the most epic portion of my tale of today must fall short. My hand is numb from holding this writing stylus, and let me tell you, three fingers isn't easy to write with. Tyregen, Hoogie, Urcuzyoda, Raizar, another hunter from the guild whose name begins with an 'H' (blast my poor memory!), and several other recruits we picked up on the road went on a raiding spree! We gathered at Splintertree Post in Ashenvale and marched to Astranaar, the local night elf community, to raid the town. We pretty much burned the town to the ground, killing every night elf that came into our path. All of the guards of the town couldn't bring us down in wave after wave of attack. Once we were successful at this destination, we continued down the road into Darkshore where we planned to raid Auberdine, and then take a ship to Rut'theran Village outside of Darnassus, which resided in the great tree of Teldrassil. Well, that sort of worked out. In Auberdine, we were ambushed by two strong hunters and a rogue. We weren't wiped out by them , however, and instead killed them whenever they came into reach of our position on the docks, where we waited patiently for the boat. Once the boat came, we flocked on it to venture off to Rut'theran Village. It was strange, however, how the boat had no crew or captain. Once we arrived at the village, we fought some guards and pushed our way toward the portal that would teleport us to Darnassus. However, between the guards and the citizens of Darnassus, we were overwhelmed, and butchered by their blades. All in all, it was an amazing time, even though we died.

Blu Glu: I shall call them, Mini-Mis!
Eragoin: How original...

I shall conclude this journal entry with a picture. The picture on the left shows an army of Blu Glu's in Shattrath City. Don't ask how it happened, because I won't give you time to. Let's just say that when a goblin asks to you a cloning device on you, don't do it. Instead, offer to use another living thing. If I thought one whelpling was annoying enough, then I must be going mad. Thankfully, the others are off sleeping in a cage at an auction house display near you.

As they say in Silithus, "I'll buzz ya later, mon."