“Careful! We’re not supposed to reveal this to outsiders, lest our reputation for perfection be lost forever!” She gestures dramatically, pauses a moment, then grins. “Hah, yeah, it’s no secret that dumb Elves happen too. We just don’t like to talk about it.”
“Shattered star, a bitter seed, by searing scar a wicked breed. What to rise and rend asunder fetters failing, so I wonder. From crown to root in ashen gown; its withered fruits all fall down.”
“I’ve no idea what you just said. But it’s sounded ominous. Are you some kind of fortune-teller or something?”
“Nah, this one’s just a poet. Maybe a bard.”
“Did someone say Bard?”
Teknetia pulls out a guitar.
“This is a love song I made for the Lord Admiral.”
“I met her in a pub down in old Boralus
Where you drink ale and it tastes just like Kaja-Cola,
K-A-J-A … .Cola.”
Teknetia continues playing despite boos and general contempt from the crowd
“She walked up to me and she asked me to dance,
I asked her her name and in a dark brown voice she said”
Teknetia begins singing
“Jaina! J-A-I-N-A, Jaina! Ba-ba-ba-dum-ba-dum-bum!”
OOC: I hope someone gets this reference.
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“I… think you might want to brush up on Common songs. I don’t know how Draenei sing, but that meter isn’t really working out here.”
“Wait, you don’t truly believe that was a fair attempt at singing?”
Thion looks taken aback, looking away for a moment with a blank stare.
“I honestly thought he was just trying to scare that tauren away…”
Teknetia, having just bought some champagne for everyone to share, bursts into tears
Oh, God, I’m pathetic!
I’m so sorry. I’ll just go… you guys want the rest of the cham-paggin?
“Don’t let the common people bring you down.”
A WARLOCK!.. AN UNDEAD WARLOCK!!!
no words just…
BANG! BANG!
Mahli’ficia peers over towards Veldaren, noting the intricate spray pattern of old guts and dried, black blood adorning the wall behind the Forsaken with an appraising nod, before asking Veldaren.
" … did you make that? Had you but stood in front of a canvas, I am sure you could have sold that as a piece of abstract art about the inhumanity of gnome kind and the evil influence of technology."
Ethanar walks over to Mahlificia and looks at the scene with a somewhat puzzled look on his face.
“Ooof, oh boy…that sure is ‘quite a sight’. Well then, all more reasons NOT to anger our new gnomish allies, right?” He grinned while glancing at Tinyshots with worry and trying to push Mahlificia away from the crime scene!
“…It’s not like she did anything wrong, realistically.” He cleared his throat. “But that aside, how’s Void treating you these days?”
Dangerbeard looks between the undead lady, the colourful painting on the wall behind her and then the two Void Elves discussing the amazing work of art.
“Clearly she’s got it wrong. The Gnome pulled the trigger so she’s the painter. Depending on how progressive this one is Zombie Queen here is either the canvas or the material. As for its meaning, I don’t know. Shadowforge art is easier to decypher. There’s only so many meanings a hammer or an ominous-looking bearded statue can have.”
The Dwarf turns towards Ethanar and adds in a hushed voice: “Best keep that one away from the Gnome. Too cynical for her own good, know what I mean?”
“I do apologise - they’re in season…”
Terintha speaks, check a vast plant growing up a wall, all withered.
It’s a small trickle of moths, but it soon grows to a large swarm. While the months flicker in and out of the bushes, they also focus on the druid and her spaulders.
Teknetia walks in, instantly being surrounded by moths
“Woah, what the-. What’s with all the…”
Teknetia begins coughing
“Oh Light cough cough I think one flew into my mouth!”
Teknetia runs over to the bar and grabs whatever drink he can find and drinks it all in one go
“Phew, that’s better.”
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gently pats Teknetias back
Dere, dere, ja fine. Toughen up.
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Dangerbeard looks at Teknetia with a look that could spell either concern, amusement or both on her face before saying to Mithcha:
“I really hope that wasn’t whiskey…”
Goldy squints slightly, raising up on her tippy toes, looking Dangerbeard’s lower face over with great scrutiny. “Yo, what’s the deal, lady? I heard youse was called Dangerbeard, y’ain’t got no beard even, never mind a dangerous one!”
The Goblin then eases back onto her heels, looking the Dwarf up and down all over quickly before homing in on her lower abdominal area. “See, maybe if ya gots an au naturale kinda look down there, y’could change it ta Dangerbush or somethin’.”
She then finally looks into Dangerbeard’s face, initiating eyecontact. “I want royalties if ya go that route though, y’hear?!”
“You know Dwarves use family names, right? She’s probably from a long line of Dangerbeards, half of whom did in fact have beards. On average. I know lots of people change their names when they take a new path in life, but you can usually assume a Dwarf is keeping their old name unless they completely cut ties with their old life.”
“Labels shorn, these strips of skin, a mutilated fate spilled and flayed. White hot torrent leaving lettern torn; what promise ends in doom thus delayed.”