World of Warcraft®

It was late in the evening, very late. The sky was dark, and the only sound in Stormwind's streets aside from the roaring of torches, the chirping of crickets and night birds, and the sound of chatter coming from open tavern doors. It was a deceptively normal evening.

Until the son of Rukh's boots made contact with a rooftop, and he dropped, prone, glancing around hurriedly to make sure he'd not been spotted. He'd fallen all the way down from his gyrochopper, opening up his parachute cloak at just the right moment - this, of course, made sure that he didn't end up a stain on one of Stormwind's streets, but also made sure he wasn't spotted. The cover of darkness had made it far easier than such a descent would have been during the day.

This was a bad idea. At least when he'd urinated on the Warchief, and caused all that trouble back in Grommash Hold, he'd been drunk. To sneak into Stormwind, for the sake of pulling off pure, unadulterated, vindictive, childish mischief...well, it was folly. Drakehide could use a little folly in his life at the moment, though. Something to cheer himself up. Besides...what Drakehide had in mind wouldn't hurt anyone. It would be pure, harmless fun. Tyrynna might try to kill him, after this was all done...but years later, they'd surely look back on this and laugh.

Unless she actually succeeded in killing him, of course. Well, better she do it than some random bounty hunter.

He interrupted his thoughts by flicking the side of his bio-optic killshades, increasing the magnification and getting a good look around him. The streets nearby seemed to be empty, or near-empty at the very least. No one had spotted him so far. He readied his bolt gun and hopped down, off the back side of the roof. He snuck from behind the building into a nearby alley.

So far, so good. All he had to do was find Tyrynna, test his new "gadget", and then call the chopper down for his extraction.

This was probably the most foolish, half-assed, reckless thing the blood elf had done in a long, long time.

And...it all felt glorious. GLOOOOORIOUS!

((So...a lot of Drake's threads and RP lately have been very serious, or very grim, and I just can't have that! And so, the Drakehide vs. Tyrynna grudge match continues! RRRRRROUND TWO...FIGHT!))

Tyr lie awake that night, staring at the ceiling, easily able to see through the pitch black. She glanced to the body beside her; Rho had finally fallen asleep. To the other side she glanced, where Piphin, her Wintersaber, lay, a misshapen lump of lavender fur. For the first time in what seemed an eternity, Tyrynna felt to be at peace. She closed her eyes and started to drift off...

Then she heard something, like a near-silent thud on the Recluse's rooftop. Just as quickly as a dream started to grip her, she found herself sitting upright, once again in the waking world. She wasn't sure how, but she had a feeling...

Drake's come to visit. Fantastic...

She glanced around the dark room, then started to slip out of bed, hastily throwing a shirt over her unclothed form. (Gods forbid, how drunk had she been that night?) She glanced out the window, beginning to remove her characteristic truesilver circlet, though soon realized that it wasn't there. She cast a sidelong glance across the room, where it lay discarded by the door.

Note to self: If I'm ever that drunk again, have someone put me in a straightjacket

Tyr sighed quietly and looked back out the window. She closed her eyes and tried to contact the "visiting" Blood Elf, but to no avail. Something was blocking her, nether knows what. She clenched her jaw. She HATED it when her telepathy failed her.

Time for Plan B

Quietly, Tyr reached into her bag. She hoped for a knife, but ended up removing from it a rock, likely not wanting to know where it came from. She peered back out the window, catching sight of something slipping through the shadows, what she thought to be her friend... enemy... frienemy, Brontes Emberwing, best known as Drakehide, though who really knows if it actually was. Grabbing a pen, Tyr scribbled something on the rock, then, propping the window open just enough, she threw the rock with a hunter's accuracy, the projectile hitting it's mark square in the head.

Chuckling mentally, Tyr smirked and gave "Drakehide" the finger before shutting the window, removing the shirt, and crawling over Pip, back into bed. She glanced back out and smirked.

Take that, Bronny

Satisfied, Tyrynna closed her eyes, finally letting the land of dreams absorb the elf into slumber.

((Heh...can't wait to see what you have in store, my friend. XD))

Dernas had been coming back from a bit of recriational hunting. With a deer slung over one shoulder, he decided to test the limits of his new from. Taking a length of rope from his pack, he tied off the deer's feet with enough slack to sling the carcas like a backpack, and began attempting to slowly scale the small hils near Westbrook Garison. Almost a half hour later, he walked tiredly through the small forest above the Mage District quite pleased with himself.

The footman patroling the battlements was signifigantly less amused with his method of entry to the city. The poor fellow visably jumped when the worgen's claw grasped the edge of the battlements and Dernas yanked himself up onto the walkway. "Sorry, mate. Just testin' a few things." Dernas said as he lowered himself down the other side of the battlements, onto the Mage District rooftops.

Dernas soon realised he hadn't quite thought his plan through too well. He stood on the edge of one of the districts far too puple rooftops looking around for a way to reach the street without breaking his legs. Then there was a thud nearby. Dernas moved behind a chimney, looking out with suprise at the seronite plated Blood Elf on the Recluse's roof. He slowly and quietly lifted his crossbow, slipping through the shadows to gain a better vantage point on the elf. A grin spread across his face as he raised the crossbow, aiming for the elf's idioticly helmetless head. He heard the creak of a window slowly opening to his right, but didn't want to break his concentration by investigating. Dernas made a rather canine "Yipe!" as a rock slamed into the side of his head, his shot going far wide as he slid on the slanted rooftops. The ground rushed up to meet him, then the world went dark.

Dernas woke up a few minuets later on his back at the steps of the Recluse. At first he didn't realise how he wasn't severely injured, then he smelled the spoiled meat from the now crushed dear still tied to his back. Dernas groaned a bit as he looked around, finding the rock that had caused his sudden decent. Across the smoothest portion of the rock's surface was written: Suck on that, Sunshine elf!

"Bloody Stormwinders..." Dernas said as he tossed the rock aside and wandered back to the NTE offices.

Drakehide heard a window creak. He thought little of this at first until he heard a sharp yipe followed by the telltale punching sound of a crossbow firing its load, which in turn was followed by the sound of a bolt whizzing overhead. Harmlessly overhead, but still cause enough for concern. The warrior blinked and saw a worgen - a familiar-looking worgen, several yards away, sprawled out onto the ground, his crossbow motionless on the ground beside him.

As grateful as the warrior was that someone had disposed of Mister Dernas, for the time being, it didn't bode well for him. He was in an enemy city, sneaking around back alleys with a bolt gun, while heavily armored. His gyrochopper was still in the sky, waiting to pick him up, and the sound of its rotors could attract unwanted attention. He was wasting precious time. He had to move, and fast.

The blood elf wasn't completely sure what had taken Dernas out. It could have been a sniper, marksman, ranger, natural causes, indigestion, just about anything. But instinct said that he had to get to cover. He had to get inside.

He saw a door, but...it was late. Drakehide tried the handle, but it was locked. The blood elf adjusted the magnification on his killshades and glanced around, looking for some sort of cover. He was boxed in, in this alleyway. The warrior needed a vantage point, something elevated, something -

- something like that window he'd heard creak open. He glanced up. He probably wasn't going to be able to get inside. Not reasonably.

It was at a decent height off the ground, so it would be tricky to reach...

Wait.

If the shooter who'd taken Dernas out was up on that roof, then...he needed to do something about them. Rather than seizing the vantage point, his priority right now was incapacitating whatever had taken out Dernas. Hopefully without disturbing too many of the neighbours. And he had a feeling whoever Dernas' assailant was, they were right inside that window.

Drakehide first took out his obsidium bolt gun, and aimed carefully. With one, two, three, four controlled bursts of fire, he took out the window hinges. The two window panes dropped to the ground with a crunch, and splintered into several pieces as they hit the soil. The blood elf plucked a small device he'd brought along with him for such an emergency - a goblin device aptly named a flashbang - and hurled it through the now-open window.

There was a bright flash of light and a sharp noise from within the dwelling. That should incapacitate whoever this mystery shooter was.

Now, to find Tyrynna. Drakehide turned, and started to make his way down the alley, as quickly and as quietly as he could whilst hauling his obsidium bolt gun along.

(( Hope you don't mind If I jump in, it's a pretty funny thread so far!))

Tal' was asleep under the great oak that sat outside the Recluse. He always loved to sleep out where the moon could touch his purple skin. But nothing was more comfortable then his companion, Luna, being his pillow. She had the softest fur in Azeroth to him.

Suddenly he heard what seemed to be a banging noise. He arose quickly, grabing for his bow, a natural reflex he has obtained through countless ambushes by goblins, murlocs, and at times a member of the Fellowship waking him up. He scanned around looking for the cause of the noise, just being fast enough to see what appeared to be a flash of light at a nearby window.

He got up with hesitation, murmuring to himself in Darnassian. He bent over to poke at Luna, who refused to wake up. He then fastened a grin as he took out a hunk of meat out of his bag and began to smear it on her nose. She arose quickly with an intent of hunger

" ah-ah, no meat til' we figure out what that noise was!"

Unsatisfied she gave a nod, but the second he put the meat in his bag, she swiped at it, tearing it in half. She grabbed the meat and ran for it. Tal' ran his palm down his face as he began to curse in Darnassian again.

"Not this game again you bewildered beast..."

He quickly ran after her with the intent of catching her. The noise would have to wait for awhile.

Tyr once again lay awake in the rented room, staring at the ceiling as before. She was drowsy, true, but couldn't seem to get a decent bit of sleep.

Of course, not that the flashbang someone had thrown into the room next door helped any.

She gave an irritated sigh. Drakehide would pay... in the morning.

((OH GOD. So who was in THAT room...?))

There was commotion about. Someone was running around, following an animal of some sort...that should prove distraction enough that no one would notice the burst of light and sharp noise that had just probably ruined some poor tavern-goer's night. This still wouldn't do...Drakehide was behind enemy lines, on his own, in the dead of night, trying to find Tyrynna and hopefully surprise her with the field testing of his new Mind Amplification device.

He was going to have to rethink this. Withdraw, for now, and come back after more effectively scouting out the city. Hitting a switch at his gauntlet, Drakehide called the gyrochopper down. The noise was probably deafening - the sound of the chopper was shaking the ground beneath him, its rotors were kicking up dust and wind, and it was probably enough to wake everyone in the city block up.

The son of Rukh hopped into the vehicle quickly, adjusted his goggles for flight, and hit the throttle. The gyrochopper shot upwards, and forward fast - just a little too fast.

The starboard propeller, as they ascended, nicked the edge of the roof, punching a hole in the ceiling of whoever was residing next to the room he'd just flashbanged. Drakehide winced, a little, at the accidental property damage, but...at least tonight he was getting out with his life.

He'd return tomorrow night, with better intelligence, and an idea of where to look for Tyr.

As for now...uh...well, whoever was in that room just got an improvised, son-of-Rukh-style skylight, free of charge...

((ha this is an awesome thread, there should be more of these!!))

((Thanks, Talanus! Tyrynna, Dernas, I am LOVING this thread so far. xD Originally, what I'd intended was just a quick hit-and-run, where Drakehide tested his gadget...what I'm kind of picturing now is an almost Wile E. Coyote sequence of events where our Coyote repeatedly attempts to catch the Road Runner and is thwarted at every turn. I dunno...what do you guys think?))

The morning had simply been too damn foggy for Drakehide to get anything of use done. The warrior had parked his gyrochopper in a mountain range, to the East, that would give him some cover and keep him hidden from the watchful eye of Stormwind's guards and airborne forces. By noon, the fog had cleared enough that Drakehide was finally able to perch himself on the edge of the mountains, and take a closer look at his target.

Drastically increasing the magnification on his bio-optic killshades, Drakehide zoomed in and watched the building he'd landed on last night first, and then started scanning through the streets, skimming through Stormwind's various denizens to try and find Tyrynna.

The son of Rukh would make a second attempt to test his counterweapon tonight. This time, though, he refused to go in blind.

How he disliked not taking his rest in familiar surroundings. He had perused the research texts of a colleague from his apprenticeship that wished to consult with him on the theoretical composition of mana cakes and their conversation had gone well into the night. By the time they realized how late it was, Timeus was barely awake enough to utter the incantation to return to his comfortable, familiar workshop and bed. His friend had helped him down to the Recluse and procured a room for the evening. He was only vaguely aware that one of the waitresses had helped him up to the room and not at all how he made it up onto the human-sized bed.

Of course, all that was quickly forgotten as the flashbang flew in through the window the waitress had been kind enough to open to let in some fresh air. Well, it seemed like a kindness at the time. Have you ever woken from a dead sleep by loud noise and blinding light? Timeus couldn't recommend it but it certainly got you going. With a startled cry, he jerked upright and being temporarily blind without his goggles on to protect his eyes, promptly fell off the edge of the bed.

"...I fell on my wand..."

Drakehide continued scanning Stormwind's streets from the mountains, his killshades searching the streets for some sign of Tyrynna. As his gaze fell over the tavern for what seemed like the thousandth time, he looked at the window hinges he'd shot out and thought back to that fateful flashbang he'd thrown last night. He felt a twinge of guilt, as he wondered who might have been in that room, or whose evening he might have spoiled.

But...he couldn't afford to dwell on that. Not now. He had work to do, too much work to do to let himself be sidetracked. The counterweapon intended for Tyrynna HAD to be tested.

...and, as far as that window went, at least he'd thrown the flashbang and not the saronite bombs...

With a shudder at that last particular thought, he went back to his work, increasing the magnification once more to take a closer gander through the city's streets.

* * *

Six hours later, and still no Tyrynna. He'd seen night elf priestesses, night elf warriors, night elf druids, night elf rogues, night elf death knights, even a pair of night elf mage sisters - the one in the low-cut dress with the ribbons in her hair looked glorious, but her sister had a face like a -

Drakehide cleared his throat, placing himself right back the proper, GLOOOOORIOUS mental track he would need to invade Stormwind, and complete his quest.

Stormwind had to be the only city in the Alliance without night elf huntresses! At least, the only city without telepathic ones. He'd spotted one or two normal, non-telepathic ones, but...no sign of Tyr. Anywhere. At all. Either he was looking in all the wrong places, or...

...or, once again, he needed to go in for a closer look.

But how? He'd tried a drop into the city last night, and it had made too much noise. He'd attracted too much attention. He wasn't Keedriel, or Akira, or Fearow - he couldn't simply vanish into thin air, or disappear from sight, and however they did it was still a mystery to him. He needed some way to get inside, something subtle, somewhere no one would look, something no one else would think of.

As if out of spite, the sky opened up and rain began to pour.

Well, this was unglorious.

Drakehide's gadgets and his chopper were, for the most part, waterproof, but sons of Rukh were not. Now, he had a camp in the mountains that was flooding, his clothing was soaked under his armor, and he was probably going to catch hypothermia and die. Ironically enough, the containers he'd left out for survival purposes to collect any water that might have fallen were tumbling down the mountain, following the path of mud and water around them, and beneath them. Try as he did to catch them, Drakehide was too slow - the containers tumbled hundreds of meters into the Forbidden Sea.

Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to - !

THAT'S IT, Drakehide realized, THE ANSWER TO ALL OF MY PROBLEMS.

THE CANALS.

Oh, this was going to be glorious. GLOOOOORIOUS!

And, surely, somewhere in the satchel of kit and gadgets he's brought along, there would be something for underwater breathing...hopefully...

It was morning, finally. Though the sun's arrival had left Tyr most displeased. She'd barely gotten a scrap of sleep, and now the hangover from the previous night's festivities was beginning to kick in. Rho was already gone, perhaps his shift started early. She heard Timeus over her guildstone (not to be confused with her hearthstone, which she couldn't seem to find) mumbling about someone throwing a flashbang into the room he'd rented. Pip was whining hungrily, as pitifully as a full-grown Wintersaber could.

"Bah, Pip, shut up..." Tyr groaned. "You'll get your damn breakfast in a minute."

Drowsily, Tyr then glanced over to the small clock on the bedside table.

1:34 pm

Irritatedly, Tyrynna threw the clock at the wall. Drakehide's antics had deprived her of enough sleep that she'd dozed well into the afternoon.

The elf tilted her head to the side until she heard and felt satisfying 'pop' in her neck. She stood, threw her clothes and armor on, pulled her hair back, and marched out the door.

Someone would be having WORDS with Drakehide.

Tal' woke up from his slumber, wondering where he was. He then remembered last night, the noise, the chasing, then the running into the pole that now laid before him. Poles...always seem to be his one obstacle he could never surpass. As he got up, Luna got up and began licking his face. He kindly pushed her to the side and spoke in Darnassian," Don't you think I've forgotten you deeds missy."

He then felt his tummy rumble, a sign he could never ignore. Time for a scrumptious meal. He kneeled back down to Luna, face to face.

"Let the game begin!" He yelled," Weakest gets breakfast!"

They then began to roar in each others faces. This lasted about a minute untill suddenly Luna widened her mouth and began gnawing on Tal's face. He quickly pulled his head out saying," Fine fine!you win....I'll go catch some breakfast then...."

They began walking to the southern Canals of Stormwind, a place they hid there fishing pole, pot, and other cooking materials. Also, as the Canals was filthy, Tal' had discovered a way to 'purify' the fish he catched, cooking it with leaves from Teldrassil. As he got his fishing pole and find a nice spot, he cast out his line, Luna sitting next to him. Suddenly, Tal' felt a wet drop land on his hair, then next thing he knew, it was pouring.

"Oh well, need to eat one way or another."

Tal' and Luna sat there in the rain, fishing the Canals for a good breakfast. As long as he had her beside him, everything was as bright as the moon to him.

The bad news was that, no, Drakehide had failed to invest in any sort of water-breathing apparatus when he'd assembled supplies, rations, and munitions for this little outing of his. The good news was that sons of Rukh were most skilled in the art of improvising. Yes, while Drakehide couldn't breathe underwater, he had devised a most effective solution to his entry into Stormwind.

He'd scrambled down the mountains, along the very edge of the sea, and had submerged himself, all but his head. Over his head, he held his shield up, so that it covered his head and kept him out of sight. He was in shallow enough water that his feet could touch the bottom, and so he crept slowly towards the city, cleverly disguised as...uh...a shield. A shield, with dirt on it. Which sort of looked like a rock. Rocks could float, right?

Glorious improvisers, the sons of Rukh were. Glorious thinkers...not so much.

At first, the plan seemed to go off without a hitch. By early evening, he had somehow miraculously made his way past the harbor, and trickled into the canals between the Cathedral Square and the Mage Quarter.

Cleverly disguised as a shield...ha! Who'd known this would be so easy?

Drakehide turned, veering down the canal towards the tavern area where he'd dropped in last night. It seemed to be a fairly heavily-populated area, and the tavern had plenty of traffic. Chances were good he'd either find Tyrynna, or a clue to her whereabouts.

What Drakehide didn't realize is that he'd already found a fishing hook. With his pants. And the line behind that fishing hook was starting to tighten...

Drakehide's hearing was so deafened by the water, and by the shield up around his head, that he never heard the ripping sound. And was already so drenched that he didn't even notice his new lack of pants.

"A catch, A catch already Luna! By the Gods!"

As Tal' screamed about, he stopped for a sudden when he saw a very peculiar sight, A floating rock. He looked at it carefully as it floated towards the Mage District.

"Something new everyday...."

But he took his mind back on task and yanked the kine as hard as he could! His eyes glistened with excitement, Luna was licking her lips, so was Tal.... The two roared in joy. Tal' yanked more time when suddenly he could see the end of his line.

"A pair of pants.......I quit!"

Tal' threw down his fishing pole and stomped away in anger. Luna made a sort of laughing howl. She then quickly jumped into the Canals, coming up a few seconds later.....with a fish...

"Yea yea don't show off just get up here so we can eat!"

((PS sorry for my abrupt disappearance, and that the RP tonight ended so "WTF, Drake?" xD The weapon in all its GLOOOOORY will be deployed tomorrow. No one within a city block of the Blue Recluse is safe. xD There will be teh funny.))

((It's all good, will be looking forward to tomorrows then!))

((Warning: This'll be a little lengthy. ^^; My apologies.))

The son of Mok'Rukh was wasting away in Booty Bay again.

He couldn't remember how many Cherry Grog's he'd gone through tonight. The drinks that the goblins here served were sickeningly sweet, weak, and not nearly bitter enough for Drakehide's tastes, but after enough of them even the wretched rose-colored drinks managed to taste just a little like Cactus Cider. Which was enough.

This was only because Drakehide, once again, was badly, badly drunk. He thought back to the events that had transpired last night - his little attempt to Stormwind with a shield over his head had gone off without a hitch. Well, mostly. It had gone off without a hitch until the son of Rukh had realized that he was without pants. Someone had absconded with his trousers - hook, line, and sinker. To make matters worse, long before he'd found Tyrynna he'd found trouble: Jack Nukenson.

Given that Drakehide owed Nukenson 12,500 gold, and that he also owed Nukenson a life debt, the human was the last person the warrior had wanted to see. Nukenson had been ranting about Drakehide kidnapping his brother, or something, which was absurd. Drakehide had saved Jack's backside when the human had failed to invade Undercity, dropping him off near Refuge Pointe...well...after trying to kill him...and Drakehide had also resisted the urge to kill Jack Nukenson in Ratchet. He'd done nothing to Nukenson's brother. He hadn't even known Jack Nukenson HAD a brother.

Oblivious as always, Drakehide continued drinking. The Stormwind guards had become wise to his presence. Probably around the point where he'd called down his gyrochopper, and he and Nukenson had engaged in a mad chase, weaving between buildings in a cat-and-mouse chase through Stormwind's Mage Quarter. He'd managed to evade them by leaping off the chopper, using it as a decoy as he'd parachuted down to safety. The landing had been MOST unglorious, but nothing was broken.

It was roughly at this point, at the base of a small waterfall from Stormwind's canals towards the harbor, that Drakehide had realized he was not alone.

Tyrynna had come.

At last.

The time to test the weapon was now.

"DRAKEHIDE'S VICTORY IS AT HAND!" he had exclaimed, in a most glorious fashion. He'd had his finger on the trigger. He had her targeted. When the weapon went off, she would know that the hold she'd once had over him would never happen again. Never again, would the son of Rukh be under ANYONE's control, or strung like anyone's puppet. Sons of Rukh were NO ONE's puppets - and this day, he would prove it by - !

And then the truth came out. Drakehide was being a public disturbance. Drakehide had interrupted Tyrynna, in a moment of closeness with her...lover? Drakehide didn't even know Tyrynna HAD a lover. Drakehide was learning many things tonight that, up to this point, he had not known. At all. This particular fact, though, this changed everything.

Was he jealous? Perhaps a little. Alright, more than a little. But not just of Tyr, and not just of Tyr's lover. He was jealous of Keedriel. He was jealous of Akira. He was jealous of all of them, all of them who had the chance to go home, every night, at the end of the day, and see the person they loved. Yes, he envied them deeply. All of them.

Drakehide couldn't help but think of himself and Aeshi, and how long it had been since...since they had experienced such a moment of closeness, intimacy...or love. The warrior had been wandering all over the world, his hearthstone in hand, waiting for her to call. He kept the proverbial hearthfires burning. He still thought of her every day...remembered her, and was driven on by the memory of her. Aeshi was the world to him.

What would Aeshi think of him now?

This was foolish. Childish. All of it. Drakehide had adjusted the Mind Amplification Device during that last standoff just long enough to send Tyrynna one simple message:

Enjoy your evening. I will trouble you no further.

He was through making an idiot of himself. Andaendis and Roriel had both been right - there were countless fronts on which a neutral warrior could still prove his mettle. There was Hyjal, there was Deepholm, there was Uldum. If he was bored, there was still work in Northrend to be done, and in places like Silithus, the Searing Gorge, and all of the Steamwheedle settlements. There were still plenty of chances for glory. This...drunken misconduct, wandering around and harassing both Horde and Alliance alike with his stunts...it had to stop.

And...he had to go home. To Aeshi. Sons of Rukh, after all, should not simply be content to wait for calls - they were the call-makers! But...first...he had to make amends for what he had done.

He took out a small box, another gadget he had procured. It was a voice recorder. He set it down on the table, activated it, and spoke.

Citizens of Stormwind,

My deepest apologies for the condition your inn was left in, these past two days. I also wish to extend my apologies to whoever was flashed and banged by the flashbang I deposited in their chamber, after shooting out their window. I also apologize for the slight damage done to the roof of one of your taverns. Enclosed with this message is a satchel of gold that I hope will compensate you for your losses. And to my friends in Stormwind - you know who you are - I am deeply sorry for disturbing you so.

Aka'Magosh!

Drakehide.

Drakehide knew that before he went to the Echo Isles, and before he found Aeshi again, he had to see that this message was delivered to Stormwind. But how to make sure everyone received it...?

He plucked the Mind Amplification Dish off of his belt. An effective counter-weapon, it might have been, but...he had no use for it now. He would only be tempted to engage in further stupidity. With great powers came great responsibility, and Drakehide was not prepared to bear the mantle of telepathy just yet. Perhaps again, one day. He secured the dish to the recorder - when the message played, everyone within one city block would hear it.

Drakehide stepped outside, content with himself, and glad that he was doing the honorable thing. He made his way over to the gyrochopper, and started to prepare it for launch.

In his drunkenness, he'd left the recorder on the table.

And this is roughly when Caer'ias Aeddan walked into the bar.

Caer'ias Aeddan was not drunk. His madness was fueled exclusively by the fact that he was, unfortunately, Caer'ias Aeddan. The mage and his clockwork gnome protege and "robot overlord", Jennings, were stopping in for a quick meal before they hopped back onto the flying carpet, and headed towards their next dig location. Archaeology was hard work, and growing mages needed to eat!

"Fuel yourself, Aeddan-creature," Jennings snapped in his nasal, and usual irritated tone, "And let us leave this place. The number of organics in this place is appaling. Contaminants abound. And my bio-organic threat-detecting sensors are sensing a high level of communicable diseases in this place, most of them transmitted through the act of - !"

Aeddan wasn't listening. At all. His gaze was fixed on the most interesting thing on the table in front of him. His eyes were wide, and a broad smile crossed his face.

"Jennings!" Aeddan exclaimed, giddily, "Do you have any idea what this is?"

Aeddan held up the recorder - or, rather, held down the recorder - so that the diminuitive fellow could see.

"It is a gnomish recording device," Jennings noted, "Hardly remarkable. Discontinued model. Outside manufacturer's warranty. Corrosion appearing on the left side of the - !"

"It's our TICKET!" Aeddan giggled, holding up his hands victoriously, "Jennings, don't you see? It's a recording device! And I've always wanted to be a singer!"

Jennings scowled, and shook his head.

"Three-thousand seven hundred and twenty things you've always wanted to be are on file," Jennings noted, "Not ONCE have my auditory sensors detected 'singer'."

Aeddan picked up the little clockwork gnome, held him up, and gave him big, sad eyes.

"Please?" Aeddan whimpered, "Jennings, this is my chance! I just need your help briefly."

Jennings rolled his optic sensors.

"This is foolish. Well, beg, organic creature. Beg your robot overlord, and perhaps he will feel merciful."

"Pleeeeeeease do that thing with the drum beat and the strings and all the other instruments that you can conjure up from those wonderful, wonderful vocal output thingies of yours?" Aeddan begged.

Jennings crossed his arms and sighed.

"Fine, Aeddan-creature. But we never speak of this again," Jennings grumbled, as Aeddan placed him down on the ground.

The blood elf cleared his throat, getting ready to sing.

"Oh, I am SO glad the ancients had the foresight to give you a karaoke function," Aeddan mused, as Jennings engaged his vocal subprocessors and the music began.