Journal Entry 523 – Location, Felwood.
I attempted to use the Universal Language Translation device (ULTD) to communicate with a friendly female individual of the Tauren race who was standing by the road. Although I am positive Nikolas has updated and upgraded all the systems, I do believe that the device is still in need of some fine tuning.
I am not sure why the friendly tall Tauren druid lady felt it imperative to repeat the phrase “the century drawers just north of the itinerant spank frequently, little fiend” several times, but in due course (after much hand waving and pointing), I was able to discern an encampment a little ways up the road.* It seemed to be the base camp of the very druids I was seeking.
I expressed to them my desire to further investigate the corrupting nature of the demonic energies, and my curiosity as to how the druids were able to combat them.
The druids expressed the opinion that the best way for me to gain a better understanding the dangers of demonic corruption was to see first-hand the results of said corruption, and advised I survey the lands for myself. One example, they said, was how the corruption shattered the once-peaceful furbolg tribes. I explained that I had seen some of the results of this effect on the furbolgs in my explorations of the lands to the south, but the druids helpfully pointed out that there was a tribe of furbolgs here in the midst of the Felwood who somehow resisted the corruption.
I found this intriguing. Perhaps the furbolgs of this tribe had discovered some means of combating the effects of demonic energy? The druids were not sure, as they said the furbolgs were wary and distrustful of strangers.
I determined to attempt to communicate with them. The druids have marked the location of their settlement on my map. I will undertake the task of traveling there tomorrow.
_____
*According to an elven translator, the helpful Tauren druid was actually saying “The Cenarian druids just north up the road speak Common, little friend.” I believe she may have been speaking with a slight accent, which may have thrown the ULTD off. Some day, I will have to conduct further research on the intricacies of the Taurehe language.
Showing posts with label Chronicles of the Gnome Brigade. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chronicles of the Gnome Brigade. Show all posts
Friday, August 1, 2008
Friday, July 11, 2008
Gnomish Investigations - Felwood (Part 1)
Felwood.
Adelheide looked about anxiously as she rode through the haunted trees. Some of them looked like twisted faces, screaming in anguish. A few even dripped an eerie greenish goo, which clearly was not mere tree sap. Mere tree sap didn’t glow that way. Even the wildlife seemed diseased, and decidedly hostile. All about, the land seemed to languish in decay.
"This is almost the worse thing I've ever seen," she whispered to herself. "It's so horrible! As bad as Gnomeregan, even!"
Speedy craned his head about, watching the clearly diseased landscape flow by. The tortoise (not turtle, as the confused Stormwind orphan had named it, poor confused and as yet uneducated human child that he was) was clearly curious, but not at all tempted to exit his carrying box to investigate himself. Besides, Addy reasoned, cleaning him of the muck and goo would be such a chore.
But there was a settlement ahead, they had told her. Cenarian druids, elven and tauren both, working together to combat the demonic taint that infected these woods. To draw out the poison, to cleanse the land. Reclaim it. Make it whole again.
It was why the gnome was here.
"There has to be something," the gnome muttered to herself, flipping the mechanostrider on auto-navigate and consulting her notes again. "If the druids have found a way, then there must be something to the process which can be adapted and modified to apply to a single individual as well. Maybe even amplified, to improve and speed up the process."
Speedy looked at her and tilted his head.
"Yes, I know," she replied shortly, sounding slightly annoyed. "I'm sure miss lady Lyirdanna and missus lady Alishe have thought of that, too. But they would have been looking at the question from a… a different viewpoint. A druid viewpoint. And also a night elf viewpoint. Not a gnomish viewpoint."
Speedy ducked his head inside his shell. "Oh, no, Speedy, I know you didn't mean it that way," she assured the tortoise, patting his shell reassuringly. "But… well, as Aunt Frazzlespigot always used to say, 'Sometimes doing your own research from scratch and conducting your own experiments based on that research allows you to succeed where others who rely only on the findings of other researchers without first confirming the validity and reliability of said research first find themselves hanging from the rafters with their clothes all on fire.' "
Speedy blinked at her solemnly as she returned to reviewing and organizing her notes.
"Only in this case," she mused absently, "the explosion in question might be a little more powerful than that…"
_____
There was someone up ahead beside the road. Addy was totally immersed in her notes by this time, and Speedy had to bite at the gnome’s clothing to get her attention.
“Speedy, no,” she scolded. “I know I’ve informed you several times that runecloth is not a suitable dietary supple… oh, hm? Ah, someone up ahead? Thank you, Speedy. You’re such a clever tortoise!”
The gnome quickly stashed away her notebook and flipped off the auto-navigation system (and made a mental note to talk to Nikolas about adjusting the automatic road-following settings, it seemed to be veering to the left a bit), taking the controls of the mechanostrider again. She slowed to a stop and waved back at the rather tall waving individual.
It was a tauren. A female tauren. From the facial expression the gnome could see (and Addy could see the tauren’s expression quite well from her perch on the mechanostrider), she did not seem hostile.
“Greetings and salutations, miss tall stranger lady tauren, ma’am!” Addy said cheerfully. “May I be of assistance in some form or fashion?”
The tauren blinked. “Tauruhe?” she asked the gnome, obviously not understanding much of what the gnome had just said.
Addy blinked back. “Oh dear, no… I apologize, but I am not capable of communicating in the native Tauren language… umm… one moment…”
The tauren looked on in bemusement as the gnome began searching her saddlebags, all the while mumbling to herself. Finally, Addy found what she was looking for, and proudly flourished a particular device.”
“Now, miss tall stranger lady tauren, ma’am,” she said slowly, pointing in as polite and friendly a manner as she could manage. “Could you please speak clearly and slowly into the Universal Language Translation device, perhaps it can help us to communicate more efficiently?”
The device sparkled ominously…
Adelheide looked about anxiously as she rode through the haunted trees. Some of them looked like twisted faces, screaming in anguish. A few even dripped an eerie greenish goo, which clearly was not mere tree sap. Mere tree sap didn’t glow that way. Even the wildlife seemed diseased, and decidedly hostile. All about, the land seemed to languish in decay.
"This is almost the worse thing I've ever seen," she whispered to herself. "It's so horrible! As bad as Gnomeregan, even!"
Speedy craned his head about, watching the clearly diseased landscape flow by. The tortoise (not turtle, as the confused Stormwind orphan had named it, poor confused and as yet uneducated human child that he was) was clearly curious, but not at all tempted to exit his carrying box to investigate himself. Besides, Addy reasoned, cleaning him of the muck and goo would be such a chore.
But there was a settlement ahead, they had told her. Cenarian druids, elven and tauren both, working together to combat the demonic taint that infected these woods. To draw out the poison, to cleanse the land. Reclaim it. Make it whole again.
It was why the gnome was here.
"There has to be something," the gnome muttered to herself, flipping the mechanostrider on auto-navigate and consulting her notes again. "If the druids have found a way, then there must be something to the process which can be adapted and modified to apply to a single individual as well. Maybe even amplified, to improve and speed up the process."
Speedy looked at her and tilted his head.
"Yes, I know," she replied shortly, sounding slightly annoyed. "I'm sure miss lady Lyirdanna and missus lady Alishe have thought of that, too. But they would have been looking at the question from a… a different viewpoint. A druid viewpoint. And also a night elf viewpoint. Not a gnomish viewpoint."
Speedy ducked his head inside his shell. "Oh, no, Speedy, I know you didn't mean it that way," she assured the tortoise, patting his shell reassuringly. "But… well, as Aunt Frazzlespigot always used to say, 'Sometimes doing your own research from scratch and conducting your own experiments based on that research allows you to succeed where others who rely only on the findings of other researchers without first confirming the validity and reliability of said research first find themselves hanging from the rafters with their clothes all on fire.' "
Speedy blinked at her solemnly as she returned to reviewing and organizing her notes.
"Only in this case," she mused absently, "the explosion in question might be a little more powerful than that…"
_____
There was someone up ahead beside the road. Addy was totally immersed in her notes by this time, and Speedy had to bite at the gnome’s clothing to get her attention.
“Speedy, no,” she scolded. “I know I’ve informed you several times that runecloth is not a suitable dietary supple… oh, hm? Ah, someone up ahead? Thank you, Speedy. You’re such a clever tortoise!”
The gnome quickly stashed away her notebook and flipped off the auto-navigation system (and made a mental note to talk to Nikolas about adjusting the automatic road-following settings, it seemed to be veering to the left a bit), taking the controls of the mechanostrider again. She slowed to a stop and waved back at the rather tall waving individual.
It was a tauren. A female tauren. From the facial expression the gnome could see (and Addy could see the tauren’s expression quite well from her perch on the mechanostrider), she did not seem hostile.
“Greetings and salutations, miss tall stranger lady tauren, ma’am!” Addy said cheerfully. “May I be of assistance in some form or fashion?”
The tauren blinked. “Tauruhe?” she asked the gnome, obviously not understanding much of what the gnome had just said.
Addy blinked back. “Oh dear, no… I apologize, but I am not capable of communicating in the native Tauren language… umm… one moment…”
The tauren looked on in bemusement as the gnome began searching her saddlebags, all the while mumbling to herself. Finally, Addy found what she was looking for, and proudly flourished a particular device.”
“Now, miss tall stranger lady tauren, ma’am,” she said slowly, pointing in as polite and friendly a manner as she could manage. “Could you please speak clearly and slowly into the Universal Language Translation device, perhaps it can help us to communicate more efficiently?”
The device sparkled ominously…
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Missing (One Week)
“No, dear,” the engineer replied calmly, the bulk of his concentration still on fine-tuning the calibration of his latest project. “I haven’t seen her yet today.”
Adelheide frowned. “It’s been almost a week, Nik. You… you don’t think…?”
The clear worry in her voice, tinged with a hint of fear, made him look up. An Addy flustered with panic was not a good situation for anyone.
“Now Addy,” he soothed, removing the goggles from his smoke and grease stained face, giving him something of a reverse-raccoon look. “I’m sure Abigayle is fine. Perhaps she’s become engrossed in another engineering project?”
“But she hasn’t been seen in days, Nik! I’ve asked everyone in Ironforge. The guards, the shop keepers, the mages at the Mystic Ward, even Sraaz the pie vendor!” She twisted the bit of runecloth in her hands in frustration.
Nikolas took her hands in his gently, comfortingly. “I’m sure she’s fine,” he assured her. “She’s not an unaccomplished mage…”
“Apprentice,” Addy interjected.
Nik hid a grin and continued “…mage apprentice, and a clever engineer as well. She can handle herself. And if she were in real danger, she would have contacted one of us, I’m sure. Jharvis maybe, or even Pizmo, if not us.”
“But…”
He took the fretting gnome in his arms. “No buts, Addy. Now stop worrying so. She’ll turn up, sooner or later. Just wait, you’ll see.”
“Don’t forget, she is a Frizzlespring,” came a somewhat muffled response.
Nikolas considered that simple statement. She was right.
“All right, Addy. But let’s give the Brigade a few more days, hm? If they are still unable to locate her, then I’ll make a few inquiries among my former associates. Perhaps we can acquire the assistance of a trained professional to locate Abby.”
Addy looked up, a bit alarmed. “Nikolas, won’t that be … ?”
He shook his head. “Of course not,” he assured her. “After all, we will only be utilizing their services to locate her, not apprehend her. Once we know where she is, we can go get her ourselves.” Just a hint of iron was in his voice.
Adelheide frowned. “It’s been almost a week, Nik. You… you don’t think…?”
The clear worry in her voice, tinged with a hint of fear, made him look up. An Addy flustered with panic was not a good situation for anyone.
“Now Addy,” he soothed, removing the goggles from his smoke and grease stained face, giving him something of a reverse-raccoon look. “I’m sure Abigayle is fine. Perhaps she’s become engrossed in another engineering project?”
“But she hasn’t been seen in days, Nik! I’ve asked everyone in Ironforge. The guards, the shop keepers, the mages at the Mystic Ward, even Sraaz the pie vendor!” She twisted the bit of runecloth in her hands in frustration.
Nikolas took her hands in his gently, comfortingly. “I’m sure she’s fine,” he assured her. “She’s not an unaccomplished mage…”
“Apprentice,” Addy interjected.
Nik hid a grin and continued “…mage apprentice, and a clever engineer as well. She can handle herself. And if she were in real danger, she would have contacted one of us, I’m sure. Jharvis maybe, or even Pizmo, if not us.”
“But…”
He took the fretting gnome in his arms. “No buts, Addy. Now stop worrying so. She’ll turn up, sooner or later. Just wait, you’ll see.”
“Don’t forget, she is a Frizzlespring,” came a somewhat muffled response.
Nikolas considered that simple statement. She was right.
“All right, Addy. But let’s give the Brigade a few more days, hm? If they are still unable to locate her, then I’ll make a few inquiries among my former associates. Perhaps we can acquire the assistance of a trained professional to locate Abby.”
Addy looked up, a bit alarmed. “Nikolas, won’t that be … ?”
He shook his head. “Of course not,” he assured her. “After all, we will only be utilizing their services to locate her, not apprehend her. Once we know where she is, we can go get her ourselves.” Just a hint of iron was in his voice.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Bruises (Part 5 of 5)
Under Emissary Aurelie’s gentle ministrations, the little gnome was soon back to her pre-hoof-stomping self. Which was a relief to everyone. Most especially the small mechanical squirrel.
The scolding was not nearly as harsh as Addy had previously anticipated. Although it was indeed quite a scolding. And Addy did have to promise Nik that she would not again be quite so eager to measure the width of a full adult male tauren’s hooves by using her face as a measuring instrument.
And she conceded that it was probably not the wisest choice to attempt cross-species communications using the universal language translation prototype with a sheeped tauren (although she was curious as to what the taurhe word for “baah” was…) – as Nik pointed out, forcing the device to translate two languages simultaneously (sheep to taurhe to common) was probably beyond its current capacities, and would most likely (97.28% chance, give or take a variance of .05%) result in a short circuit…
And she had even agreed to a temporary abatement from any further participation in the defense of the forests at the behests of the Silverwing Sentinels. At least, for a time.
For the time being, at least, she decided to dedicate a greater portion of her attention to the reorganization of the copious notes on her field research thus far collected. Yes, yes indeed, that was quite a worthy task to undertake…
….but later, perhaps, she thought with a yawn. Right now, she was tired. Very very tired. Nik fussed over her a bit, seeing her to bed and tucking her in, then sat watching her drift off into slumber before returning to his workshop.
“Keep an eye on her, Spot,” he told the mechanical squirrel perched at the foot of her bed.
Spot chittered obediently.
The scolding was not nearly as harsh as Addy had previously anticipated. Although it was indeed quite a scolding. And Addy did have to promise Nik that she would not again be quite so eager to measure the width of a full adult male tauren’s hooves by using her face as a measuring instrument.
And she conceded that it was probably not the wisest choice to attempt cross-species communications using the universal language translation prototype with a sheeped tauren (although she was curious as to what the taurhe word for “baah” was…) – as Nik pointed out, forcing the device to translate two languages simultaneously (sheep to taurhe to common) was probably beyond its current capacities, and would most likely (97.28% chance, give or take a variance of .05%) result in a short circuit…
And she had even agreed to a temporary abatement from any further participation in the defense of the forests at the behests of the Silverwing Sentinels. At least, for a time.
For the time being, at least, she decided to dedicate a greater portion of her attention to the reorganization of the copious notes on her field research thus far collected. Yes, yes indeed, that was quite a worthy task to undertake…
….but later, perhaps, she thought with a yawn. Right now, she was tired. Very very tired. Nik fussed over her a bit, seeing her to bed and tucking her in, then sat watching her drift off into slumber before returning to his workshop.
“Keep an eye on her, Spot,” he told the mechanical squirrel perched at the foot of her bed.
Spot chittered obediently.
Bruises (Part 4 of 5)
The mechanical squirrel scampered off – but only a little ways, stopping every few feet to make sure that it was being properly followed. When it did not seem satisfied with the speed of their progress, it would twitch and chitter with every appearance of real annoyance.
It lead the Emissary back the way it came. First, through the streets of Stormwind, to the smokey Dwarven District. Then, through the whirling, whirring tunnel to the Deeprun Tram. Then a quick ride, and another whirling tunnel into Tinkertown, home of numerous industrious gnomes clamoring and clanking away happily. A quick turn to the left, and there was the Military Ward, busy with residents and wandering vendors and war volunteers. Here, the squirrel tread carefully, seeking to avoid both being stepped upon, and getting lost in the crowd.
Finally, it headed for a small tavern. Up the stairs, to a small room. The squirrel scampered forward, gently chittering at a small still form cradled there, on the floor. Laying on a bedroll, was a very beat-up gnome. A gnome wearing the tabard of the Tower. And with what looked like the mark of a tauren hoof taking up most of the left side of her face.
Gnomish eyes opened blearily at the Emissary’s gasp. Blinked. Focused once more.
“Oh… dear! Lady …’misarry… ta.. un… Aur.. ie… ‘am…” Addy mumbled tiredly. “…sorry to… disturb… just… ‘ittle… indisposed…” Utterly embarrassed, she struggled weakly, trying to get up despite the screaming protest of sore muscles and numerous bruises. Spot chittered at her as if to admonish such foolishness, and after a moment, she found herself too tired to keep trying. She drifted off again.
Spot looked up at the human he had brought. Was that a gleam of worry in the mechanical contraption’s eye? It chittered urgently, as if in expectation.
It lead the Emissary back the way it came. First, through the streets of Stormwind, to the smokey Dwarven District. Then, through the whirling, whirring tunnel to the Deeprun Tram. Then a quick ride, and another whirling tunnel into Tinkertown, home of numerous industrious gnomes clamoring and clanking away happily. A quick turn to the left, and there was the Military Ward, busy with residents and wandering vendors and war volunteers. Here, the squirrel tread carefully, seeking to avoid both being stepped upon, and getting lost in the crowd.
Finally, it headed for a small tavern. Up the stairs, to a small room. The squirrel scampered forward, gently chittering at a small still form cradled there, on the floor. Laying on a bedroll, was a very beat-up gnome. A gnome wearing the tabard of the Tower. And with what looked like the mark of a tauren hoof taking up most of the left side of her face.
Gnomish eyes opened blearily at the Emissary’s gasp. Blinked. Focused once more.
“Oh… dear! Lady …’misarry… ta.. un… Aur.. ie… ‘am…” Addy mumbled tiredly. “…sorry to… disturb… just… ‘ittle… indisposed…” Utterly embarrassed, she struggled weakly, trying to get up despite the screaming protest of sore muscles and numerous bruises. Spot chittered at her as if to admonish such foolishness, and after a moment, she found herself too tired to keep trying. She drifted off again.
Spot looked up at the human he had brought. Was that a gleam of worry in the mechanical contraption’s eye? It chittered urgently, as if in expectation.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Bruises (Part 3 of 5)
Spot was a determined mechanical squirrel. Perhaps it was in his nature to be determined. After all, his creator had not built him with an understanding of what it meant to give up. Then again it could be that gnomish inventors themselves did not understand what it meant to give up. One cannot, after all, program one's inventions with the understanding of a concept one could not oneself comprehend.
Or maybe Spot had learned determination. Unlike mechanical squirrels created by other gnomish inventors, Spot's mechanical cranium had been outfitted with the ability to process outside data and use it to modify its own responses based on that data, even to the point of formulating completely new responses not included with its orginal behavioral templates. In short, Spot could learn.
If Spot had spent any time observing his gnomish creator or his gnomish creator's significant other (whom the mechanical squirrel's gnomish creator had placed in the care of Spot), learning the traits of gnomish determination and gnomish stubborness would not have required much of a processing capacity.
In any case, Spot was a determined mechanical squirrel. His gnomish creator's significant other had had her functionality impared, and perhaps her mechanicals damaged. She required repair. But Spot was clever enough to understand that gnomish mechanicals were not like his own. She required the attentions not of a certified repair technician, but of a healer.
Spot knew only of a few healers. One of them was the white-clad tall human female. She resided in Stormwind. Spot recalled that his creator's significant other had refered to this human as "the lady tall one Emissary former White Coven Wisdom miss Aurelie ma'am."
Spot determined that this individual would be able to repair his gnome. Off Spot went. Determined.
_____
At the door, the Emissary Aurelie heard a scratching. Patiently, determinedly, a small mechanical squirrel scratched at the door, waiting for someone to open it, waiting to lead whoever opened it to a small room in the back of the inn near the Armory in Ironforge’s Military Ward. To the room where its tired and bruised mistress lay sleeping, waiting to be healed of her painful (but non-life-threatening) bruises, bumps, lumps, scratches, and scrapes.
Or maybe Spot had learned determination. Unlike mechanical squirrels created by other gnomish inventors, Spot's mechanical cranium had been outfitted with the ability to process outside data and use it to modify its own responses based on that data, even to the point of formulating completely new responses not included with its orginal behavioral templates. In short, Spot could learn.
If Spot had spent any time observing his gnomish creator or his gnomish creator's significant other (whom the mechanical squirrel's gnomish creator had placed in the care of Spot), learning the traits of gnomish determination and gnomish stubborness would not have required much of a processing capacity.
In any case, Spot was a determined mechanical squirrel. His gnomish creator's significant other had had her functionality impared, and perhaps her mechanicals damaged. She required repair. But Spot was clever enough to understand that gnomish mechanicals were not like his own. She required the attentions not of a certified repair technician, but of a healer.
Spot knew only of a few healers. One of them was the white-clad tall human female. She resided in Stormwind. Spot recalled that his creator's significant other had refered to this human as "the lady tall one Emissary former White Coven Wisdom miss Aurelie ma'am."
Spot determined that this individual would be able to repair his gnome. Off Spot went. Determined.
_____
At the door, the Emissary Aurelie heard a scratching. Patiently, determinedly, a small mechanical squirrel scratched at the door, waiting for someone to open it, waiting to lead whoever opened it to a small room in the back of the inn near the Armory in Ironforge’s Military Ward. To the room where its tired and bruised mistress lay sleeping, waiting to be healed of her painful (but non-life-threatening) bruises, bumps, lumps, scratches, and scrapes.
Bruises (Part 2 of 5)
Adelheide winced at the pain. She couldn’t move without some part of her body informing her most insistently that it did not approve of any such activity. In fact, if she were to hazard a guess without any visual confirmation, she’d estimate that perhaps 99.7% of her body was covered in bruises. Or perhaps, one single large bruise was covering 99.7% of her body? She wondered idly what percentage of blue vs. purple the bruise was…
She wondered where she was. She wondered how she got there. And, perhaps most importantly, she wondered how she was going to get home, before Nikolas became concerned and started looking for her. Then, she started to wonder how many decibels of shouting and how many hours of prolonged exposure she’d be sitting through, once he found her.
She winced again. This time, in fearful anticipation.
Unless…
Well, maybe if she were able to get someone to do a bit of healing, Nik wouldn’t be quite so upset. He’d still be angry – understandably so, after all, considering the amount of physical pummeling she’d endured, after promising to stay out of trouble – but, perhaps, not as angry. She hoped.
Unfortunately, in her current condition, she found it highly improbable that she’d be able to move enough to locate her gnomish voicebox. Which meant, of course, she’d be unable to contact anyone for any type of help. She pondered her situation.
Spot chittered.
“SPOT!” Addy murmured happily. “I’m glad… worried… big tauren… thought… squished you.”
The mechanical squirrel chittered again, and cleaned its ear.
An idea bloomed. “Spot… Spot listen. Go get help… not Nik… healing… go get…”
Spot chittered and sat there a moment, watching her. Desperately, she repeated her instructions. “Spot… help… “
The effort to speak finally was too much for her tired body to take, and she slid back into unconsciousness for a moment. When she opened her eyes again, Spot was gone.
She wondered where she was. She wondered how she got there. And, perhaps most importantly, she wondered how she was going to get home, before Nikolas became concerned and started looking for her. Then, she started to wonder how many decibels of shouting and how many hours of prolonged exposure she’d be sitting through, once he found her.
She winced again. This time, in fearful anticipation.
Unless…
Well, maybe if she were able to get someone to do a bit of healing, Nik wouldn’t be quite so upset. He’d still be angry – understandably so, after all, considering the amount of physical pummeling she’d endured, after promising to stay out of trouble – but, perhaps, not as angry. She hoped.
Unfortunately, in her current condition, she found it highly improbable that she’d be able to move enough to locate her gnomish voicebox. Which meant, of course, she’d be unable to contact anyone for any type of help. She pondered her situation.
Spot chittered.
“SPOT!” Addy murmured happily. “I’m glad… worried… big tauren… thought… squished you.”
The mechanical squirrel chittered again, and cleaned its ear.
An idea bloomed. “Spot… Spot listen. Go get help… not Nik… healing… go get…”
Spot chittered and sat there a moment, watching her. Desperately, she repeated her instructions. “Spot… help… “
The effort to speak finally was too much for her tired body to take, and she slid back into unconsciousness for a moment. When she opened her eyes again, Spot was gone.
Bruises (Part 1 of 5)
Adelheide woke slowly, her mind unusually hazy and slow this morning. Or was it morning? She wasn’t absolutely sure. The gnome opened her eyes and blinked them into focus. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn’t in her own bed.
Wha… where… OUCH!
She had tried to turn her head to shift her gaze – that was her mistake. That’s what prodded the rest of her body awake, and that’s when the pain finally registered on her slowly-waking mind.
Thinking feverishly around the pain, she recalled the night before. Nikolas had been busily puttering about in the workshop, and she’d felt the need to do a bit of field research on Horde battlefield behavior. She’d set out for Warsong Gulch again, bidding her distracted and diligently working technomantic wonder of a gnome farewell…
_____
“I’m off!” Adelheide chirped happily, giving Nikolas a quick hug.
Distractedly, Nik gave her a one-armed hug in return, his mind still half on his project. “Be careful, Addy,” he warned her gently.
“Oh, don’t worry so, Nik!” she replied easily, waving away his concern. “We’ll be fine, won’t we Spot!”
The mechanical squirrel chittered.
Nik frowned ever-so-slightly. “Hmm… maybe I should go with you. Just in case.”
“Nik, your project is important, and at a critical phase! Besides, you know you’ll just be worried about your experiment the whole time, if you go. Now go off back to work, and I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? I think I’m going to stop by and visit with Jharvis a bit. See how Abby is getting along with everyone.”
“Alright, Addy. Just be careful, alright?”
Adelheide grinned. “Of course! Aren’t I always?”
Nikolas frowned again. But Addy and Spot were already out the door.
Adelheide and Spot made their way through the busy streets of Ironforge towards the Military Ward. As usual, it was awash with people. War effort volunteers worked around the clock, collecting together supplies from everyone who donated, tall and small folk alike. From rough copper bars to steaming roasts of raptor meat, they collected, prepared, and packaged up everything, sending the much needed supplies far across the sea, to lands Addy had only read of. For a time, she and Spot watched the bustling activity with some interest – crowd dynamics were fascinating to study – but in the end, she put her notebook away once again, and hurried off to speak with the lady tall blue one staying with the sir general cousin dwarves in the ever-fascinating Armory.
…not that they ever allowed the curious young gnome anywhere near the truly fascinating areas, of course.
She sighed again, as the lady tall blue one nodded. “Indeed, friend gnome. We could use your aid. In fact…”
Wha… where… OUCH!
She had tried to turn her head to shift her gaze – that was her mistake. That’s what prodded the rest of her body awake, and that’s when the pain finally registered on her slowly-waking mind.
Thinking feverishly around the pain, she recalled the night before. Nikolas had been busily puttering about in the workshop, and she’d felt the need to do a bit of field research on Horde battlefield behavior. She’d set out for Warsong Gulch again, bidding her distracted and diligently working technomantic wonder of a gnome farewell…
_____
“I’m off!” Adelheide chirped happily, giving Nikolas a quick hug.
Distractedly, Nik gave her a one-armed hug in return, his mind still half on his project. “Be careful, Addy,” he warned her gently.
“Oh, don’t worry so, Nik!” she replied easily, waving away his concern. “We’ll be fine, won’t we Spot!”
The mechanical squirrel chittered.
Nik frowned ever-so-slightly. “Hmm… maybe I should go with you. Just in case.”
“Nik, your project is important, and at a critical phase! Besides, you know you’ll just be worried about your experiment the whole time, if you go. Now go off back to work, and I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? I think I’m going to stop by and visit with Jharvis a bit. See how Abby is getting along with everyone.”
“Alright, Addy. Just be careful, alright?”
Adelheide grinned. “Of course! Aren’t I always?”
Nikolas frowned again. But Addy and Spot were already out the door.
Adelheide and Spot made their way through the busy streets of Ironforge towards the Military Ward. As usual, it was awash with people. War effort volunteers worked around the clock, collecting together supplies from everyone who donated, tall and small folk alike. From rough copper bars to steaming roasts of raptor meat, they collected, prepared, and packaged up everything, sending the much needed supplies far across the sea, to lands Addy had only read of. For a time, she and Spot watched the bustling activity with some interest – crowd dynamics were fascinating to study – but in the end, she put her notebook away once again, and hurried off to speak with the lady tall blue one staying with the sir general cousin dwarves in the ever-fascinating Armory.
…not that they ever allowed the curious young gnome anywhere near the truly fascinating areas, of course.
She sighed again, as the lady tall blue one nodded. “Indeed, friend gnome. We could use your aid. In fact…”
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