World of Warcraft®

Abominus gleefully cackled long and hard and loud in the busy Orgrimmar trade districts, upsetting nearly everyone in the area. Dogs howled, cats screeched with thier back's up, and baby's cried. The not-discreet-at-all circle of armed guards closed about their charge. Another wave of assassins armed with flame bombs had tried for Abominus just 2 hours ago, but had been dispatched with the brutal efficiency the Grim Maw was known for.

"We have the religiousss-thingsss all lined up now, yesss. We mussst get our cape cleaned and our clawsss buffed, yesss. Come, my companionsss, to the barber ssshop, yesss! Thossse goblinsss have been late in their paymentsss to usss, yesss..."

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Deep in the Grim Maw Clan fortress, was a room now labeled "FLOWCHART ROOM! Admittance Forbidden!" with small print in several languages that read as follows: Do not taunt the FLOWCHART. Do not look at the FLOWCHART. Do not worpship the FLOWCHART. Do not feed the FLOWCHART.

Armed guards stood vigil outside. Attendees entered and exited, dressed in full RAS approved bio-contaminant hazard suits. Strange vapours emenated from under the doors, along with the sound of bells, and an ominous scrtiching sound, as if a stylus was writing constantly.

A worried "Chrrple" was to be heard, and Rodriguez burst forth from the maggot door in a hurry, a worried expression on his face, fez askew. He had to reach Abominus!

From within the depths of Acherus, Gondorin re-read the note as he stood in front of the Runeforge, placing new inscriptions of shadow and malice onto Bryntroll, bending the Scourge-forged axe to his will further.

"The Sanction doesn't forget its allies," he growled to no one in particular. Sparks of power and anger flew from the Runeforge, fed by his own rage and the dark, necromantic powers that suffused him.

"The Alliance doesn't leave its heroes behind." A scream echoed from somewhere else in Acherus, the strange, otherworldly acoustics carrying sounds from the other end of the mighty necropolis, and at times rendering words spoken by those right at hand as the merest of whispers.

"This will be stopped. And if the Maggot Lord's insidious plans come to fruition, then I will trust the Presidium to do what must be done. If they haven't the stomach, I will."

He hooked his axe onto the bone hasp on his back, readied for easy drawing as he moved to the black drake which awaited him on the balcony of Acherus.

"It's what she would would want," he said firmly.

Vincent Wolfe, his Best Man, was organizing the guests into Bride section, Groom section, and Unruly Mob section. Razaltor was prepping his wedding pronouncements. Friends and well wishers were delivering gifts of alcohol or sharpening stones to Abominus. Alcohol and roast boar was being consumed on the Horde side. On the Alliance side, things were more sedate, and not nearly as festive, though Ardam seemed to be enjoying himself.

Abominus looked up from eating the liver of a Black rock orc as gentyl was delivered by Lord Aziel and Yrhkh. Other prominent Modas were in attendance on them as well, watching for threats. The wedding guests ramped up the tension and excitement. Things were looking like they could explode at any moment.

Raoul said, "gentyl doesn't look well, Abominus. Have they been feeding her at all?"

"Oh, yesss, they have, yesss", Abominus cackled.

A disagreement erupted at the outskirts of the throng, leading to a general brawl. After the smoke cleared, Gentyl was healed up, and stood before the party. Razaltor began his perjorations, with AAMS translating.

Gentyl stated she refused to marry, but the ceremony proceeded anyway. "She was just nervous," thought Abominus. "She does look fetching in that peach wedding gown, though, yesss..."There were load catcalls from the audience, as adherents and opponents of this disunion gave vent to their beliefs. Blitzbucket the goblin was very vocal, instigating comabt against Horde members from Alliance, and vice versa. Vegetables were thrown, as well as empty bottles and axes.

Then, the sky filled with Alliance...

CHAOS! BLOODSHED! HORROR! GNASHING of the TEETH! A typical Horde wedding, actually, though the Bride did escape on a fast flying gnome-powered rocket.

Initial confrontations at the periphery of the crowd caused the Unruly Mob to act their part, leading to bodies hitting the floor. After the smoke and fire cleared, and the more "energetic" attendees were admonished, the ceremony continued. Much to Abominus' shock, Gentyl suddenly became himself! He was very fetching in a purple suit, with a purple cloak, purple hat trimmed wuth zhevra fur, a diamond tipped cane, and a large black ice ring. Abominus soon realized it was not him.

Fire and lightning rained down upon them all. Magery, warlockery, priesty stuff, rampant shamanism, some stealthy druidic intonations, and all manner of stabbity stab stabs occurred. Apparently Imperon himself decided that Abominus' taste in fashion was too atrocious to allow to be continued, so the fellish might of the Luckt Ducks quacked Abominus down.

After the pieces were picked up, it was decided that a visit to the Blue Recluse was in order, much to the surprise of the Alliance wedding participants. A vigorous debate ensued of proper wedding etiquette. It was decided that Abominus should not pursue a living Gentyl, and the gathering broke up as amicably as possible under the circumstances.

Phase 500 could begin.

((I'm sorta confused, 500? I thought you were still on 67. Or is it Step 1: Capture Gentyl, Step 2-499 ? Step 500, Profit! ?

Also, Abominus, you are awesome.))

(( Sorry for being scary, Nynra. Dree doesn't really discuss how he 'feels' about things. ))

((Dree, Nynra isn't the one you scared.))

(( Oh :P Well, I'll have to scare her so I have something to apologise for then, I guess. ))

She was safe. They flew back to Recluse to regroup before heading to Hearthglen. Gentyl sank into a chair and stared at her hands. Not long before they had been dessicated, nearly bereft of flesh. Her fingers trembled slightly at the memory. What if that moron's potions kicked in later and she turned into a forsaken permanently?

"Sepha, they followed us."

"Pardon?"

"The horde," Helhammer replied. "Get behind me."

Before she could move the tavern filled with horde. Abominus peered about and saw her. What might have passed for a grin spread over his face.

"Someone give me a sword," she screamed. "They are not taking me back."

Abominus dropped to his knees and begged her.

Light. Why did he do that? She hated it when he begged her. She felt sorry for him. He was so determined to love someone.

The wedding reception didn't go quite as most did and before long, half the guests, including Abominus, lay in a heap.