World of Warcraft®

Praise for Quillsy Inkspinner's The Sword of Oarwind, My You're a Tall One (Volume I):

"The first Steamywind title to cross factions since Warble Babbleton's Little People, Not Food, Inkspinner's first installment of the MYaTO series is legen--wait for it!--dary!"
- Blimey Stinkson, The New Tinkertown Times

"To call this book a masterpiece of this century is an understatement that needs correcting immediately. This book is one of the greatest works of fiction ever recorded in any language on any planet."
- Splotchy Inkplate, The Stranglethorn Ledger

"It's fiction!"
- Lieutenant Commander Orwyn, Stormwind City Watch

The Staff of Pimperon, My You're a Tall One (Volume II) by Quillsy Inkspinner will be out in stores on April 20th. Pre-order your copy now! The first one hundred pre-orders will receive a complimentary PageTurner with purchase. Order five copies or more and you will also receive a VerbalVocalizer. Supplies are limited.

Nabbi grumbled as she struggled to open the ridiculously tied package with her stubby fingers.

“That dumb dwarf!” She groaned as the strings finally gave way.

Nabbi sighed. She just couldn’t understand Knabo. He was so ungrateful and disrespectful towards the Mistress. It was evident in the way he put together a package of supplies for her. Everything was jumbled together in grimy rucksack and tied up with frayed string. Nabbi made a face as she picked up the soiled bag by one corner and dumped it upside down on the table. She fetched a new box made out of wood that had been sanded to a shine. She certainly didn’t want the Mistress to hurt herself by getting a splinter.

Nabbi hummed a merry tune as she repacked the Mistress’ supplies in the box. She made sure everything was dusted before she placed it in neat and tidy rows. She put the lid on and hammered nails in the top to make sure the package was secure. As she picked the box off the table, she accidently knocked Knabo’s gross bag off the table. It landed with a louder thud than would be normal for a satchel of that size.

“Oh, pipsqueaks! There’s still something in that disgusting bag and I’ve already sealed the box.”

She really didn’t want to touch the sack again. She decided to step on one side of the bag and use her other foot to push the item out. Fortunately, for Nabbi, it worked. She saw that the last item Knabo had sent for the Mistress was a book. She turned it over and gasped. It was the latest offering from Quillsy Inkspinner. Nabbi was quite surprised. This did not seem like something the Mistress would order. She was a not really a romantic person. Sure, she enjoyed flirting with the men sometimes, but usually she seemed rather serious in Nabbi’s opinion. Besides, that stupid dwarf had sent a used copy for the Mistress. The cover was worn and many pages had been dog-eared. How rude! The Mistress should always have new things.

Nabbi set the box back down on the table. She picked up her coin purse and headed out. My You’re a Tall One might not seem like the kind of thing the Mistress would normally read, but if it’s what she ordered then Nabbi was going to get her a new copy.

She just hadn’t decided if she was going to tell the Mistress about the idiotic dwarf’s latest infractions.

Knabo grunted loudly as he heaved himself into his favorite chair. It had been a long day running errands for the boss-lady. He was ready have a good smoke. He picked up his pipe, lit it and took a long drag.

“Ahhhh," he sighed contentedly.

He lazily blew smoke rings for a few minutes. Then he reached down to the tattered box near his chair. He rustled through the box, searching for something in particular.

“Huh," he snorted, “Where is it? Where did I put that damn good book?"

Gemtyl had waited eagerly for the new book everyone was talking about. She went down to the great room and sifted through the mail, twice. "Did anyone see a book I ordered?"

Everyone there shook their head. Abon's voice rang up from behind the sofa. "What kind of book?"

Gentyl could swear she heard a page turning. "Just a book."

"I haven't seen just a book."

Gentyl sighed and went back to the farrier to check on him and the horses.

The Steamywind Cartel is proud to present the second installment of Quillsy Inkspinner's latest series of steamy romance novels, My You're a Tall One, inspired by real-life adventurers of Azeroth. The Staff of Pimperon, Volume II, is available now from all major bookstores.

An excerpt from The Staff of Pimperon:

The first rays of the morning sun hit the giant disco ball that crowned The Tower, sprinkling the snowy mountains of Dun Morogh with thousands of tiny rainbows. The Tower was the emblematic home of the Luluchoochoo Orchids, the most decorated elite dance force in all of Azeroth.

The Tower was renowned across the lands for both length and girth, though few were privy to the even greater splendor of the structure's interior. Every detail of the decor, right down to the hand-bedazzled tissue boxes in the bathrooms--had been personally overseen by the man, the myth, the Dance Lord--Pimperon.

The Dance Lord began this day as usual, lounging upon a pile of silk cushions, surrounded by his harem of women in sequined leotards. While an ocean-haired night elf hand-fed him crispy strips of Jive Turkey bacon, twin human blondes fanned him with hawkstrider-feathered fans.

Pimperon was dressed to impress in a slick suit cut from pink mageweave. His rhinestone sunglasses made him appear super chillaxed, but in truth the great wizard of dance was deep in thought. The Shake Your Booty Bay Tango Competition was in less than a fortnight and Pimperon had yet to find the perfect partner.

The Dance Lord had gone through every woman in his harem, and while he loved each of them dearly in their own special way, his heart longed for something more--the tango-partner of his dreams.

Pimperon was nibbling thoughtfully on another strip of Jive Turkey Bacon when Sirus Sasswind, his best friend and comrade in dance moonwalked into the room. Sirus' moonwalk was a thing of beauty so profound that Pimperon paused his breakfasting to break out some jazz-hands in appreciation.

There had been a time when Pimperon had considered the giant hunk of Draenei a rival, but now the two men shared nothing but deep admiration and brotherly love. Sirus returned Pimperon's greeting of jazz-hands before sinking to one knee. "Pimperon!" Sirus' booming voice filled the dining hall. "There is urgent news!"

"Arise, Sirus! What is the matter?" Pimperon peered over the sparkling rim of his sunglasses.

"Pimperon! We've received an official challenge for your position as the Dance Lord!" The dining hall filled with gasps at Sirus' news. Pimperon rose to his feet.

"Do you speak true, Sirus?" said Pimperon.

"Dance Lord, I would not joke of such matters," Sirus replied.

Pimperon scoffed and quirked his brow. "Who dares challenge me, Pimperon, the Dance Lord of the Luluchoochoo Orchids?"

Sirus paused and looked away. "It's ... It's a gnome ..."

There was another round of gasps that filled the great room. Pimperon burst into laughter. "A gnome?!"

Sirus grimaced. "There's more ..."

"Well?" said Pimperon. "Go on, then!"

"The gnome ... Is a girl ..." Sirus scowled.

"A gnome girl child?! This is certainly a joke!" Pimperon laughed again and this time his court joined in. All save Sirus, who still wore his concern etched deeply into his handsome blue face.

"I wish it was just a joke, Pimperon ... But it's true ... And, there are tales that she has already defeated the Sha of Tango."

Pimperon sputtered and knocked aside another bacon strip that was offered to him. "Absurd! Even I have yet to defeat the Sha of Tango!"

"All of the dance floors are rife with such talk, Pimperon ... I'm afraid this matter demands your attention." Sirus offered sombre jazz-hands to his liege.

Sirus' word was enough to decide the matter for Pimperon. "Fine. Harem! Bring me my Disco Stick!" Even Sirus gasped as Pimperon asked for his great staff. The Disco Stick was legendary for its mystical powers that enabled its bearer incredible stamina and agility on the dance floor. Pimperon was the only dancer accomplished enough to wield the Disco Stick.

Pimperon continued. "And ready the Razzle Dazzle Chopper! I shall go see who this gnome child is that thinks she can dance ..." He grinned as his harem rushed to do his bidding and the hall filled with excited chatter. Pimperon couldn't wait to squash the impudent little twerp who dared challenge the Dance Lord.

Quillsy Inkspinner lives in Dun Morogh with her husband and twenty-six fluxfire felines. She has a PhD in Inscription and Creative Writing from The Arcane University. She is represented by the Overspark Literary Agency. She is currently working on the third volume of the My You're a Tall One series, The Gentle Breastplate.

Dolingen had followed the AAMS agent for two weeks without even once coming close to who she thought might be the literary agent for Quigley Inkspinner. They were in Goldshire when they agent pulled a hood over his head and walked into a non descript wooden building with a giant sign proclaiming the arrival of the newest book from this terrible idea thief. The Staff of Pimperon. She looked up at the store name and groaned, Victoria's Secret Stash - books, toys, novelties, and frilly clothes for the lady in your life.

She pulled the scarf over her face, hiding her scarred neck and mouth and followed the agent in. The first thing she noticed was how much pink mageweave there was everywhere. The walls were adorned in it and every article of clothing, if you could call the scraps of cloth clothing, was pink or black. She stifled a gag and tried not to run out the door but instead to the book section.

Glancing around the room, she tried to find the agent but couldn't find him. Only a curtain that said PRIVATE VIEWINGS and sighed as she picked up a copy of the book. She flipped to the back and seethed as she read the description of a book she showed her writing group four years ago. Dirty Dancing in the Heat. She pulled the book up to tear it in half when it fell to the about the author page and froze. There was the name of the agent she sought. Overspark.

Laughter filled the room. Maybe this perverted store trip hadn't been a failure after all. She tossed some coin at the greasy, pimple ridden clerk and marched out. She was headed to Stormwind and to the Overspark agency offices.

Nabbi frowned at the missive in her hands.

Lrigknab,
I’m not quite sure why you chose to include The Sword of Lord Oarwind with my latest supply order. I realize the novel is immensely popular and Quillsy Inkspinner is a talented writer. However, the manuscript is not quite on par with Charge of the Dragonflights. Next time you elect to include reading material please consult with me first. Especially if the tome is not on the approved list (please see attached list of acceptable volumes). Thank you.
Sincerely,
-----

Nabbi glanced at the second piece of parchment. The list included titles such as Aftermath of the Second War, The Dark Portal and the Fall of Stormwind, and Empires’ Fall. They all sounded extremely boring to Nabbi. Nevertheless, the Mistress should have gotten what she ordered, not something that was obviously meant for someone else.

“That dumb dwarf!” she exclaimed, “He must have gotten the orders swapped.”

The gnome knew Knabo occasionally took odd jobs for people besides the Mistress, but it never occurred to her that he might get the assignments mixed up. Surely, he couldn’t be that incompetent! She furrowed her brow in consternation.

“Well, he must have been drunker than a dwarf on a day ending in ‘Y’. That dwarf owes me a refund for the money I paid for a new copy!”

Nabbi picked up the Mistress’ letter and headed out to find Knabo. She had decided it was time to have a little chat with the daft dwarf.

Izby sat at the table reading the latest installment in the My You're a Tall One series snickering to herself while the newest recruits were trying their hand in the kitchen. The twins were attempting to prove they could cook for the tavern's typical Tuesday night audience and making messes and meals for Izby to try. The Draenei thought that it might be fun to try to distract the girls by reading from the Staff of Pimperon while they worked and soon the entire crew, including the Goblins, were tearing up with their laughter at the suggestive nature of how Pimperon danced and wielded his mighty staff. Not only had it been described as a thrusting weapon many many many times. The cane had been describe in such exquistely phallic decadence that it was impossible to see it as a staff anymore as she read. There was a scene describing the color of the power that shot forth from the staff and the only thing Izby could remember from the moment was the Goblins rolling and kicking their heels against the floorboards, the clatter of the soup pots, the subsequent cursing, and brushing away the most snowflakes from her eyes she ever had to deal with.

This book is dangerous, she thought as she cooled the scalding liquid seeping across the floor with a burst of frost. If Lia doesn't stop me, I might have to repair the floors from everyone's damage. Oh but it would be hilarious, she thought and kept on reading.

Khromie and Sizy had been hard to spot lately. It was no surprise that the latest MYaTO had something to do with it.

When she wasn't on toilet duty at the Cathedral, Khromie was holed up in Sizy's laboratory so they could practice Pimperon's trademark tango. When the gnomes weren't going over their routine and exercising their jazz hands, they re-read the books and had elegant, sophisticated discourse on who was hotter: Sir Oarwind or The Dance Lord.

"Clearly, without a doubt, one-thousand-bajillion percent Sirus Sasswind is the clear winner!"

"Khromie, that is not a number! Besides, we're talking about Sir Oarwind or Pimperon! We must stay within the parameters of the debate!"

It was the besties' first fight! It would be a long night of lots and lots of Rocket Fuel.

[ Sizy borrowed without permission cuz I'm gangsta. ]

Noikona relaxed on a bench in the corner of the Booty Bay Inn. She was looking over her notes when she caught sight of a book lying open on the corner of the table. Setting her glass down, she reached over and perused the contents. Before she knew it, she was deep into the story.

She had read at least thirty pages when a sudden chill overcame her. Her eyes grew wide, flashing emerald for a brief moment as her anger rose. Her hands shook as she let the book fall gently on the table. Being caught unaware wasn’t something she enjoyed. She clenched her teeth looking down at the book. Its alluring pages staring back at her. She didn’t know what to do.

She quietly rose and looked around the inn making sure no one was looking. Hastily she snatched up the book placing it into her satchel. The addictive story had to be finished. She just had to find a private place to read. If she were caught with such a book she would never be able to live it down. Her reputation for gnomish brutality would be shattered.

After hours upon hours of bickering with Khromie over who was best, Oarwind or Pimperon, and guzzling gallons of RocketFuel, Sizy was sprinting through the Cathedral corridors for the restroom. She made sure to lock and check it twice when she noticed a manuscript sitting on the shelf over the toilet bench. When she finished, she picked up the manuscript and gasped at the cover page.

My You're a Tall One: the Touch of Is Bee

"Oh my sprockets! Could Khromie be Quillsy? Or maybe the mystery Quillsy knew Khromie and used her naming conventions and her friends?" she thought.

There were so many questions and a new manuscript in her hands. She rushed home to her workshop without saying goodnight to Khromie or even continuing the argument she was having. Plopping down onto her table, she wiggled and removed a spring from her side before she flipped open the pages and began reading.

Under the door, an envelope appeared catching the great Enchantress Is Bee's eye. She rose from her desk and opened it with a brief burning of the ends. On the page she read, 'If you want to see your precious woman again, Miss Gail Noodle, you will need to bring the powder of Tirisfal to the Crumbling tower.'

Is Bee glowered and fire lit through her hair. The air crackling with arcane energy, she flared and prepared herself for a battle. In the midst of her preparations, she stumbled across a letter from the luscious Gail from when they were first courting one another.

"Your touch awakes fires in me that burn deep within the abyss of my love..."

Sizy gasped and sprinted from her workshop with the manuscript. She had to contact Izby and Khromie. Someone was using Izby as their character and Khromie would be blown away that the next installment of My You're a Tall One featured no male protagonist to save the damsel. This was a bombshell of a discovery and one she wasn't sure she could keep secret more than it took for her to get to the cathedral.

Parchments, scrollwork, tomes and letters of report littered the Inquisitor's oaken desk like the leaves of autumn. A phonograph spewed a soothing mixture of cello and aged static, Lugenbrau's work from before the Second War. The low, sonorous dirge often helped Liore sort out his thoughts and focus on the cases at hand. By flickering, enchanted lamplight, the frowning blood elf swept back his unfashionably short hair and squinted through tiny pince nez reading glasses at the web-like array tacked to the wall, scouring his mind for that final piece that would unlock the whole puzzle. But despite the photographs, the layers of red yarn connecting person to place and place to person, it simply would not reveal itself.

Sighing with weariness and a budding irritation, Liore sunk into his padded chair and steepled his fingers. Baleful, poison apple green eyes drifted to the armor stand across his office, lingering longingly over the curved plates and bladed spines that had for so long adorned him. How he'd prefer to be in the field! Pursuit of miniscule evidence was a scholar's vocation, he mused as he plucked the tiny glasses from the bridge of his scarred nose and set them, folded, on his paper-strewn desk.

That was when he saw it first.

The book wasn't much to look at, lacking the ornamentation and flare that most fiction peacocked in the hopes of drawing a curious eye. Despite the untidiness of his office, he had a (reasonable) knowledge of its contents; he'd never seen this one before. Leaning forward in his creaking chair, he snatched his glasses back on and squinted thoughtfully at the title.

The Sword of Oarwind.

Inquisitor Liore Bloodwing looked from the unassuming book to the treacherous veins of work on his wall, then back. Then over, and back again. Maybe a brief diversion would do him some good. A few pages, perhaps, then back to work on the case.

He would not emerge from his office until late in the evening, with sleeves rolled up and a swagger in his step; a book beneath the crook of his arm and a Royal Library Order Form in hand. Part II was out, wasn't it?

After a long day of training hopeful recruits to hit things with the pointy end and for fel’s sake to not stand in the Light cursed fire, Arthur longed for nothing more than a hot bath, a stiff drink, and to sink into the fantastical world of his guilty pleasure.

A battle-scarred legend with a hammer as heavy as a thunder-thighed dwarf, no one would believe that Arthur had even read The Sword of Oarwind or The Staff of Pimperon, much less that the esteemed paladin was writing his own My You’re a Tall One fanfiction.

Arthur had been distracted by ideas for his next chapter all day. He had come to his protagonist’s first love scene and he wanted it to be just right. As he soaked in his bath, he closed his eyes and envisioned his leading lady, the Enchantress of his own heart, Izby.

He was a regular customer of her shop in the Mage District and had been enamored with her since the first time she wove her arcane magics into his broadsword to boost his stamina.

Arthur had always been too shy to speak his feelings to Izby, but he made sure to keep tabs on her through the Cathedral’s biggest gossip, Sister Khromie. Plying the gnome with booze and snacks always rewarded Arthur with juicy tidbits on his beloved “Is Bee.”

At first he had been crushed to learn from Sister Khromie that his Izby’s heart belonged to another. But once Sister Khromie spilled that Izby’s lover was a woman as beautiful as she, Arthur decided that he could live with that. Soon after the news, he began writing The Touch of Is Bee.

Freshly bathed and boozed, the paladin tip-toed into the medical library where he’d hidden his manuscript, sandwiched between dusty tomes on Druidic Dental Hygiene for the Feral Form and Fat and Feral: One Druid’s Tale of Battling Obesity.

Arthur glanced around to make sure that the library was empty before turning the corner to his secret hiding spot. He crouched down like a ganking, good-for-nothing rogue and reached for his manuscript.

It was gone.

Fiery panic flared through his veins and the soldier sprang into action. Arthur rampaged through the library, tearing shelves apart to find his manuscript.

It wasn’t there.

Nearly ripping out his hair, Arthur stormed through the inner workings of the Cathedral, asking anyone in sight if they’d accidentally picked up a bunch of papers from the library, just notes for a new training manual for his recruits. That was when he collided into Sizy, who was running through the halls herself to find Khromie.

Arthur winced and sputtered apologies as the gnome was knocked back onto her bum, strewing the papers she’d been holding. He crouched down to help her up when he noticed that the papers were none other than his manuscript.

Making sure there were no witnesses in sight, Arthur let his sharply-honed paladin instincts take over. Arthur called forth the mighty and holy powers of the Light to slam a stunning spell onto Sizy. With incredible speed, he gathered up his manuscript.

His steely eyes glared at the stunned gnome before him. Arthur threw his head back and let out a great, bestial roar to rival Sir Oarwind’s. Then, Arthur did what paladins did best.

He bubble-hearthed the fel out of there.

She reached a hand down to the little gnome who was holding a hand to her bruised forehead. A welt the size of a melon was forming above her eyes which had the gauzy vacant expression of star travelers. Dolingen muttered to herself when she heard a delightful *pop* and muttered swear from the other room. She chuckled to herself at the thought that this paladin wasted his hearth to disappear to a room less than five feet away.

"They don't like them smart inside the cathedral," she said to the gnome who groaned accepting the proffered hand.

The woman tugged at her scarf around her neck and tightened it, before lifting the dazed Sizy onto her shoulders and walked into the room with Arthur desperately trying to hide the manuscript in the shelves again. A cluster of books laid about the room in scattered array of flustered insanity.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the great Quillsy Inkspinner. I knew I would eventually track you down. Granted I had hoped it wouldn't be so happenstance, but I'll take what I can get." The words were mechanical as they screeched through Sizy's voice contraption for reading books to you that she had modified to provide herself a voice if she so needed it. She shrugged and squeezed the young gnome's hands as she stirred upon Doli's shoulders, kicking her feet a little as vertigo kicked in.

Arthur jumped and spun around at the voice in the room and froze as Doli reached past him to pull the manuscript out of his hiding place and a packet of marshmallows shaped like crosses and coated in pink sugar. A guilty pleasure. She also pulled out a bar of cranberry chocolate and passed it up to Sizy who happily took it with an enthusiastic 'That's my Vocalizer... I LOVE CRANBERRIES!' that shook her shoulders and almost made her stumble. Arthur stumbled back, shocked, and cursed that he didn't have the strength to cast his bubble and his hearthstone needed to charge before he could port again. If only it wouldn't take him five feet away.

The sound of pages ruffling caught his attention next and he leapt for it. Dolingen watched his movements as if they were languid and side stepped them, then wove a variant on a banishment spell that Izby had stored in a stone for her to use. It had a particularly chilly addition to it in that Izby felt that it would be mean to just banish someone, so while in banishment they were served rocket pops of the coconut variety. It was quite a sight to watch someone still of this plane of existence, but incapable of interacting with the world around them convert to childish wonderment at an invisible ice cream vendor and order a frosty treat to eat. 'She was interesting woman, that draenei,' Dolingen thought as she read the cover and cursed.

"How did you know this was my next manuscript I was submitting? Well not this awful writing crap you dredge, but the concept of using my friend Izby as the source.' The metallic voice screeched. Doli felt a wiggling above her as Sizy took a wrench to the vocalizer and made some tweaks and then recalibrated the vocalizer with her arcspanner.

"Try to speak again. That should help."

"Well answer me you inept bearer of the Light." Her voice no longer sounded like some arcane guardian gliding through Silvermoon, but instead like a high pitched mouse's squeak.

"Sorry, try now." Crumbles of chocolate were dribbling down into her hair and she sighed as Arthur looked on amused as Sizy left giant smears of chocolate all over Dolingen's robes.

"Answer me." This voice could have been mistaken for the mating call of a Klaxxi. How did this tiny gnome even make that noise with her device? Had she even met a Klaxxi?

Arthur laughed at her as Sizy kept tweaking the vocalizer until it arrived at something resembling human. At that point, her skin was now half chocolate coated and red in frustration. This paladin might get his teeth knocked in for that laugh.

"I'm not Quillsy." he choked out between his gargantuan guffaws. "That is just some slashfic about Izby I wrote because..." He stopped speaking before revealing the truth while eating another ice cream pop. But he turned a crimson shade and Doli had seen it.

"You love her don't you?"

He nodded sheepishly.

"You know she has a mate right?"

"Yes." He hung his head in shame and disappointment at his failure to gather the courage to ask her out before Izby had found another. Doli sighed heavily when a high pitch squeal startled her and caused her lurch forward as a small ball of woman clamped her hands to the back of Doli's legs.

"SIZZY! You came to visit me."

"KHROMIE! Guess what I found. The manuscript for the third book."

"Troll's balls, you didn't."

"Sure did and that's Quillsy eating the ice cream there."

Dolingen rolled her eyes as she tried to clamp her hand over Sizy's mouth to try and explain things.

[[Retaliatory Khromie steal.]]

Khromie Overspark had a super deep, super dark, super important secret.

She was a ninja.

She prowled the mean, hard streets of Dalaran, armed with a butter-knife from her lunch at the Inn. She'd been chasing after a horse-fly that had landed on and thus ruined a perfectly good slice of cake.

I mean, she'd still eaten the cake, but really it was the principle of the thing!

Her hunt for the horse-fly led her to an area of Dalaran she'd never seen before. How strange! How curious! But--lark!--there was her foe!

With super impressive, stealthy and speedy moves, Khromie made a dash and a leap to stab her horse-fly foe. Alas, the wily fiend escaped just before the blade of Khromie's butter-knife struck with a resonating clank, the harder metals of a blood elf's armor.

The little gnome was knocked back by the force of the collision. She rubbed at her bruised bum and inspected her butter knife, completely bent out of shape.

Khromie shivered as a sudden chill and a dark shadow swept over her. She looked up into the glowing green eyes of one, very agitated blood elf.

Khromie took a deep breath.

"For the Alliance!"

She threw her bent butter knife at the blood elf with all her might, then made a run for it.

[If it's a knife fight you want, it's a knife fight you'll get.]

There he was. Minding his own business. Havin a smoke. Cocking around. Coolin.

When with a clash and a clink some small force of mayhem and disorder collided with his armored leg at ramming speed, jarring him off balance. With a startled bark, he flailed for balance, planting his heels and wheeling to pin his assailant with a soul-withering leer.

He looked forward.

And then to the left.

And then to the right.

And then -down.-

The little thing squeaked something polarizing in her squeaky tongue, beaned him off the forehead with a bent butter knife and bolted.

Yeah. That makes a degree of sense.

He growled something racist and unkind beneath his breath, snorting twin streamers of smoke like some armored, pouting bull.

[</3]

Alniyat had gone back in to the Lazy Turnip, half-hoping that the gnomish courier had still been there. Quiggel, was it? Sprightly? She had met so many people over the millenia that names tended to run together - even, now, the more unique names of the races of Azeroth.

Ah, Spriggel. That was it. Gone, sadly.

The knobby old draenei looked at the table where the two of them had sat down to discuss her letter. Something had bothered her about the gnome - she was very attentive when it came to the details of the delivery, but whenever the recipient was brought up (Imperon Showdah, head of the honorable Lluchduu Ocheliad, a name she had made sure to memorize), Spriggel had burst into peals of laughter. She had, in fact, fallen off her chair. Twice. Considering the reputation of the AAMS for security and trustworthiness, the Headmistress was starting to have some concerns.

Something caught Alniyat's eye. A book, plainly bound, lying askew under the bench where the gnome had been seated. She knelt to pick it up. My You're A Tall One, Volume II: The Staff of Pimperon, by Quillsy Inkspinner. She took a look at the promotional material on the back cover, then looked inside the front. PROPERTY OF SPRIGGEL LOCKBOLTEN was scrawled there in only slightly blotchy bold black ink. She paused for a moment, unsure as to whether to further violate the courier's privacy, but curiosity won out and she opened it.

A few enthralling moments later, she looked up, and blinked in thought. "I quite understand," she said to herself, earning a curious look from a pandaren regular seated nearby.

She gave him a polite smile and a nod, then returned her gaze to the page and began walking towards the door that led to the rest of Halfhill. The gnome had presumably dropped the book, after all, she mused as she read - it would only be polite to return it, and perhaps the regular mail service would suffice.

Unfortunately for Spriggel, she walked right past the mailbox. In fact, she also walked past the modest shack that doubled as farm shed and (potential, at some point, when a student expressed interest perhaps?) classroom, and then around Halfhill and past the market and the Lazy Turnip again. At the end of chapter four, she thought she had better find a more comfortable place to sit, which turned out to be a handy mogu pumpkin. She didn't mind - the book was such a fascinating insight into gnomish-human relations, after all...

The jolt of pain immediately shot through his big toe. The piercing agony throbbed angrily throughout his entire left foot and quickly traveled up his calf until it hit his knee with an explosion of burning spasms.

Knabo cursed. Loudly. Like a Dark Iron Dwarf. Like a Dark Iron Dwarf who hadn’t had a drink since last night.

Stone walls were not meant to be kicked.

Unfortunately, he just couldn’t help himself. He had heard the latest Quillsy Inkspinner novel was about a draenei. He had hoped it was about THE draenei the puerile gnome had been jabbering about. If it had been, he had thought he might find a clue as to the whereabouts of said draenei. Instead, the book was about some fancy-pants enchantress and her female lover. He didn’t get it. He personally preferred stories with strong male protagonists, like Sir Oarwind or Lord Pimperon. The adventures of those two men had certainly gotten the blood coursing just a little faster in his veins.

Nevertheless, the most recent My You’re a Tall One installment had still been page turner. In fact, he couldn’t put it down after purchasing it yesterday evening. He had burned the midnight oil finishing the sensual book.

Knabo frowned peevishly. If only it had contained some sign of the actual draenei he sought. The space goats were aliens - foreigners. Didn’t they all stick together?

He lamely stormed around the room. There wasn’t much space to storm, but that was probably a good thing considering he now stomped with a limp. His frustration mounted as he began to consider that his plan to get rid of the gnome might be a lost cause.

Knabo sat down heavily and lifted his aching foot onto the low stool in front of him. He unhappily realized it probably wouldn’t have mattered if the novel’s main character had been the woman he was looking for. He had no idea of what she looked like, sounded like or even her name. He wouldn’t know her if he saw her.

He wasn’t quite ready to let it go, however. He still had a few possible contacts to question. He might yet be able to do away with the runt. Then, he, Knabo, would become the boss-lady’s favorite.

A look of peace crossed Noikona’s face. She sat in a dark corner of the Inn attempting to look inconspicuous, busying herself with the book at hand. She had been told it was important to read the “The Sword of Oarwind” first and only having just started “The Staff of Pimperon” she didn’t feel obliged to finish the later and jumped right into the book she had been given.

Several hours had passed before she noticed that it had become rather late. Her tea had gone cold and only a few voices could be heard downstairs. Glancing around the room revealed that she was alone. Reluctantly she began to gather her things. The books gave her an escape. Something she desperately wanted, they were hard for her to put down.

Time was ticking and she had to act soon. A wave of guilt flowed through her weakening her physically, causing her hands to shake. She grimaced in anger, fighting for control. Her eyes briefly flashed emerald triggering her fists to clench. She cursed the naaru, for the emotions that threatened to suffocate her. Never had she felt such things. So much had changed after they had meddled with her. This new feebleness that accompanied her troubled her ferociously. She never asked for a conscious and the remorse that packaged itself with it, was less than desirable.

After a few heartbeats she settled down. Her mind cleared and she thought of the task at hand. She must produce a gnome. That was the agreement. A young one able to work, it had to be just right. Her mind raced, on where she could find one. She had thought of the one she had encountered at the canals, but she hadn’t seen her in days. Her shoulders slumped as she tapped her fingers on the table in thought. She began to close her book, placing a small card between the pages to save her spot, when her breathing stopped. She turned over the business card and read the name, Khromie.

Her mind raced on how she could have overlooked her. Biting her lip she placed the card in her book. She had her name, but more importantly an address. She also remembered that the gnome had invited her over. This almost seemed too easy. Once again a flood of unwanted emotions threatened to crush her. A tingle on her left hand reminded her of the probation bracelet she wore. Slumping down in her chair she tried to rationalize what to do. What once she would do without a second thought now became hard.

Carefully placing her books into her satchel, she made her way to the exit. It couldn’t hurt to at least visit. There was always the subject of the books, maybe in light of things she would find something to discount her and seek another.

***
((As some of you may see from reading this, Noikona is in the process of doing something rather rash. I am putting my foot into uncharted waters here by exposing her to the CC community. I have expressed my concern to the party’s involved that Noikona’s actions would be condemned by the Crimson Blades, if they were known. There is an underlying plot for what I am doing. If it all turns out, it will be better for Noikona in the end.

I am fully aware that my actions could cause dire consequences for Noikoina but I wanted to try and play her for what she truly is. The battle between good and evil that rages inside of her has got to come to a tipping point at some time. The events over the past week or so, just sort of fell into place so I thought I would give it a try.))

The store didn't have her favoritestestesty candy on the shelves. No, they removed the RocketFuelCandyGearBracelet to make way for that hack Arthur's fanfiction book. The Touch of Is Bee and the sequel Fifty Shades of Snow: a continuation of the Is Bee saga. Apparently, his run in with Dolingen didn't strike the fear of eternal damnation into him.

"Or," she said allowed while thumbing through the manuscript while walking to the chip aisle to sit and eat her cranberry chocolate pretzels, "maybe he is desperately trying to get Izby's attention. Maybe Doli scared him so much that he figures his life is short and he needs to make the most of it."

To verify her opinions, she flipped to the dedication page of both fake books. The first seemed innocent enough.

For Izby, the woman who stole my heart.

But the second one was much more revealing.

For the love of all that is holy within the eyes of the Light, Izby why do you not recognize me or my love. I pine for you. If only I wasn't a lion to afraid to tell you, then you could come home to me.

The books themselves were published by the disgraceful publishers of slanderous smut, the Twilight Highland Hotness Press. And Arthur was too afraid to even put his name on the book she noticed. Instead, the author said Spunky Inkslinger. Sizy groaned at the bad innuendo and slapped her face in disgust. Brushing the remains of three bags of cranberry chocolate covered pretzels off her about town dress that Khromie made her, she made her way for the cashier, trying to ignore the stinging sensation in her cheek. Maybe she shouldn't have slapped herself.

At the counter, she kicked the base to alert the cashier that she was down below and wanted to speak to her. Helga CopperBookplate leaned over the counter and smiled down at the gnome.

"What you be needed lass? Aside from paying me for them pretzels you been eatin'."

Sizy blushed and asked if she how the woman knew and she pointed over Sizy's shoulder to the mess in the aisle where smears of red chocolate coated everything from the shelves, where she climbed to get to the bags that were too high for her to reach and across the floor where she sat and rolled around reading the books.

"Why don't you have a KickStep or a SpringLift installed so gnomes and short dwarves can get to the counter easier? Or even the shelves?" Sizy asked forgetting her purpose was to get the books removed from the shop.

"Ain't knowin' I could be orderin' them. Never seen a representative to sell me one or twenty. Figure they all for them things the human call bars, but really more like daycare for them soldiers not able hold liquor."

A string of excited shouts came from the gnome as she sprinted outside to her saddle bags on Pippo and pulled out the three demo models she had attached to his furry backside and plopped them down in front of the dwarf shop owner.

"I'll give you these three now for the pretzels and books... well two more bags of pretzels and books. Then I'll bring you the last seventeen and then install them when you remove all the books and burn them."

"Why I be givin' up piece of my income? Them books sell like cakes."

"Because they aren't real books in the series. They are from a pathetic paladin in the Cathedral who struck me while I was unawares to steal the book from me after I found it. He's a coward."

"Figured as much when you sayin' he struck you blind. And from the dedications of them books. Tellin' you what. We burn them if you can get him here to watch and you be givin' me thirty them KickSteps."

"Twenty-three."

"Twenty-five."

"Twenty-five, but I get your stock of RocketFuelGearCandyBracelets and an ice cream for my friend Khromie."

"Deal."

"See you in a few hours."

Khromie would be so excited. Free ice cream and candy bracelets that could double for necklaces. Plus they could show Arthur he was no Quillsy Inkspinner and he should never attempt to dilute her name by trying to sell his fanfiction ever again. Oh and she had made modifications to her ToiletCleaning suit. Now, it would make Khromie look like a dragon. Like the other one. It was sooooo cool.