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Old 12-27-2008, 01:05 AM
Yuber8900 Yuber8900 is offline

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Default A Very Aviony Winter Veil

I am a horrible monster.


It was the night before Winter Veil, and all throughout Ironforge, idiots were stirring, and dancing with elves. Lights were strung overhead, as a precautionary measure in case the Horde decided to stage another raid on an Alliance city during a holiday. The children were snugly sleeping in their beds, unaware that they were becoming orphans due to the mad mechanisms of a boy who's parent loved him too much. And my lady friend and I pestered some dwarfs, as we placed Ice Cold Milk for sale at massively inflated prices because people were too stupid to go to vendors.

"Whaddya mean a 25% cut for war orphans!? I take time out of my busy schedule to help those runts during whatever month that holiday's in!"

"And we appreciate that sir. But this was a choice presented and approved by all the leaders of the Alliance."

"Tch, fine ye stumpy bastard. But I'm getting the word straight from Magni's mouth."

"We appreciate your understanding in this measure sir."

I turned away from the all-too-familiar auctioneer and waded back through the crowd of idiots. Since I was me, and thus awesome, I only left a handful of deaths in my wake.

When I reached outside my lady friend was waiting for me.

"25% for orphans! Why do I have to pay. I do Children's Week!"

"That's what I said! Maybe this is retribution for telling them Great Father Winter wasn't real."

"Haha, that was fun! Seeing the tears in their eyes and whatnot."

"So what to now big man?"

"I dunno," I scratched my head, "Wanna go kill the reanimated bodies of the orphan's parents?"

"Sounds fun."

"Menethil or Stormwind?"

"Surprise me?"

I shrugged. Personally I wanted to go through Stormwind, because egads was the Fjord boring. But this gave me time to bust out my "Titanium Seal of Dalaran!" and flipped it.



"You just shouted out Titanium Seal of Dalaran."

"No, I didn't." I caught the coin. Head's up oh yeah! Now if only I had assigned a value to either side. Ok, this time heads is Menethil and Tails is Stormwind. I flipped the coin again, totally not saying "Titanium Seal of Dalaran!" in the process. It was tails.

"Alright to Stormwind it is!"

Of course, then that incredibly obnoxious Courier Hammerfall charged into the city screaming "The Undead are comin' the Undead are coming!" Now, normally I wouldn't care, and neither would 9/10ths of the population of Ironforge, but today was special. I had just been ripped off for a few gold because of orphans. So a thought popped into my glorious head filled with luscious flowing brown hair. I would vent some frustration on these Undead, steal from the bank, then leave some presents under the Winter Veil tree.

This was all dependent on the UNdead actually arriving though, so as my lady friend and I waited on our giant mounts at the great doors of Ironforge, wondering why they hadn't been closed yet again, we got to talking. Well, talking not about the intellect of the dwarven military leaders, this time we were talking about what was taking the Undead so long to begin a bloody path of carnage through the Ironforge idiots.

"So, what's taking them so long?"

"Dunno, maybe more idiots outside then normal?" The front gates were a breeding ground for tough warrior types to challenge each other for glory and honor while spotting out crap like frostbolts are cheap, and the like.

"Wanna ride out and see for ourselves?"

"Sure, maybe we'll even get to see the slaughter!"

So it was that the two of us charged out on our gigantic mammoths hoping for a breeding ground of doom and despair. Unfortunately all we saw was a bunch of Forsaken running around and dancing. For those of you who don't know, the Forsaken are "good Undead" who are free from the grip of said overly loved son from above. Well, as good as undead are that continue to squat in a city that belongs to humans.

So, my lady friend and I know something's up. The Forsaken are nitwits, and there's too few of them here to be ya'know, an Undead attack. So we ride back inside, not actually caring that the dueling morons out front are being cannibalized, to get answers from our dear Courier.

We find the poor sod standing next to Great Father Winter, well the fake Great Father Winter, with his kids. Apparently he rose the alarm in order to shorten the line to get his brats on the old man's red pants.

So my lady friend and I hatch a devious plan.

"So I hold him down while you beat him up?"

"Sounds like a plan."

It doesn't take long for us to ride up to the four fatties, dwarf kids are large mind you.

"Courier Hammerfall! For your crimes against the Avion dictate I declare you shall be beaten to severity!"

"Please sir, not in front of my kids, they don't have a mother and I do all I can to feed them but no one ever takes me seriously!"

"No mother ey?" A devious, fiendish plan formed in my mind, one surprising for a man of minimal faith like myself, "Alright, I'll let you go. My present towards yer eldest."

"Oh thank you sir, thank you."

The two of us rode away. I knew my lady friend had questions who wouldn't after I promised violence and didn't deliver.

"So why did you let them go."

"Feeling charitable."

"That's not like you."

"Well, I've only given the eldest his present. The cute little fatty of a daughter still needs something to open on Winter Veil day!"

"And that would be?"

"It's a secret."

That night, well, later that night, my lady friend and I returned from what my secret present was.

The next day the children and man-children gathered around the great tree of Winter Veil, bringing rage from people trying to reach the mailbox. It was around noon when we saw the Hammerfall children make their way to the tree. Little dwarf girl's eyes lite up when she saw the big ram-shaped present addressed to her with the nametag saying "Great Father Winter Veil wishes you best of luck with this!" An odd hing to write, but it was a ram. Like her mother she wanted to be a Ram-Rider and die in a rush against the Snowfall graveyard in Alterac Valley because they got no support from any "heroes". Her hands steadily tore through the bright red wrapping, tearing and ripping her focus so consumed with her ideas that she didn't notice the rising pool of blood and the too-lumpy-to-be-a-ram shape. With one last yank the final layer of broke, and what would she see? But her father bloody and dead, beaten to pulp by Anya and me.

The two of us smiled from above the tree, as the girl and her brother broke down in tears. My gift to the girl was greatest of all, a few silver from the auction house to orphans. Even if they were orphaned by the very law that would give them that money.

So in closing, Happy Winter Veil, and have a good night. Don't go flying while drunk on Cherry Grog, and contact your leaders about preventing auction house taxes.
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Old 12-28-2008, 06:19 PM
Timolas Timolas is offline

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I'm glad that you love Christmas as much as I do!
I guess I felt a little sorry for Hammerfall.

But he defied the will of you.
There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man.
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Old 12-29-2008, 08:53 AM
Vicious Vicious is offline

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World of Warcraft fanfictions?

As if they were the actual world? With Yuber writing it?

The best kind of fic.

And i loved the Christmas revelation at the end, they will have many future happy winter veils.

Warlock, Lord of Scrolls of Lore: Shut up, Timolas
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