World of Warcraft®

The cold air bristled through her workshop because for the first time ever, Sizy was leaving her windows open while she worked. It was a small change, but one that reflected the upbeat tick in her mood. Things had gone well the previous day.

She'd gotten a new dress. No, uniform, well it looked like a dress and she wore it like a dress so it was a dress in her mind. Granted this new dress was her uniform to operate her Pop-Up bookstore where she and Khromie sold the greatest romance literature ever written; the entire line of Quillsy Inkspinner's My You're a Tall One and subsequent fanfic, but still, the smooth fabric felt amazing on her skin and made her feel... dare she say it. Sexy.

The dress hung on the back of her door so that she couldn't get it filthy while she worked but as she applied tweaks to the water containment tanks for her HydroPoweredBookCart she kept looking up at the dress and smiling.

She'd gotten an Esmerelda quality kiss in that dress. Her first one. Now she understood the books even better and had her VerbalVocalizer reading them aloud to her so she could enjoy the sensuality of them even more than she had previously. And she now had a Blue too.

After all this time listening to Khromie prattle on about her Blue, Sizy had her own. With soft delicate skin and a lab. A LAB! Plus she liked the Inkspinner's books. Of course she would, she had a pulse.

Sizy smiled and continued tweaking her book cart and thought of how she could practice the kissing she enjoyed and attach an espresso machine to her cart.

I hope the espresso machine comes with some eye protection or something!

Glances over her shoulder at her Blue and smiles. "Right! Eye protection."

She scurries through the stacks of things looking for her many pairs of goggles and can't find a single pair. Springs and coils fly through the air. Then nuts and bolts. A loud crash echoes through her lab as stacks topple over.

"Damn that Arthur! I bet he stole all my goggles after we tried to burn his stupid books because he was encroaching on Quillsy's story. Will you help me get them back Noola?"

Yawning and stretching, Nyuula sat up. She spent the night on one of Sizy's makeshift beds on the floor. "Of course Sizy, but first I may need something to wake me up? Do you have any tea? Or coffee?" Nyuula shifted and winces, she pulled a book from under her, a copy of My You're a Tall One: the Touch of Is Bee. "Oh right, I never even paid for this copy! How much do I owe you?"

Wrinkling her nose, the gnome thought about what beverages she might still have in the workshop. On the messy floor were several dozen empty cans of various forms of RocketFuel energy drinks, but she didn't think that Noola would appreciate that kind of taste if she was asking for tea or coffee. In the corner of the room sat a small ice box. Well, small being relative, it was normal sized for Sizy, but perhaps not everyone else. She popped the top off to look inside and saw that there were two cans of RocketFuel (Quadruple shot Espresso)^500max in there and nothing else. No apples. No cheese. No bread crumbs. Not even her favorite candies that she tried to keep on hand at all times. A moth floated out though.

Her stomach growled in response and she realized that she might have to go to the market as well. This was going to be a long day of shopping and Arthur hunting. She picked up the Gnomish Tall can (a proud and not so safe 16oz of heart stopping concentrated caffeine) and carried it over to Noola. Her stomach growling again.

"This is all I have Noola. We'll have to stop and grab breakfast at one of the cafes or something. Then I probably should go shopping." Her face grew long thinking of that. She hated shopping. She could never see into the racks of goods. Stormwind was not made for vertically short.

Then Noola asked about the book price and Sizy felt herself perk up again. It could have been the drink, but she wanted to believe otherwise. Crawling into the Draenei's lap, she sat down and kissed her under the chin, since that was all she could reach. A quick peck.

"That's my copy, see." She opened it to show the first blank page with a large block print S I Z Y. "You can borrow it as long as you want if you take me to breakfast and go with me to buy groceries so I don't have to kick the shopkeepers in the ankles to get help getting things down."

She paused considering the offer and her mouth pulled up on the right side.

"And perhaps read it to me, teaching me about what it talks about."

Yeah, that was a great deal. Even the Goblins would approve. She needed to finish making StompLifts for them as well. Oh well, they could wait. Goblins always overcharge, under delivered, and were frequently late. Sizy could do it once. They'd be proud she'd learnt so much from them.

[ Oops, I did it again. (... I played with your hearrrrrt! Got lost in the game, oh baby, baby!) ]

Unaware that she was ruining plans of an intimate breakfast, Khromie burst into the workshop bearing a basket of muffins and a thermos of coffee.

"Goooooooood morning, happiest couple!"

There were no words to describe her joy in having brought two of her closest friends together by the sheer, psychic powers of her mind. This was the greatest achievement in Khromie Overspark's career as the greatest professional matchmaker ever of all time.

But as she watched the cozy pair, there was the tiniest tug on her heartstrings as she remembered her own Blueness. It had been a long, long time since she had seen Sirus Sasswind.

Oh, well! There were plenty of hawtnesses for her to love! There was Oarwind, there was Pimperon, annnnnd there was Firetooshie, her mysterious stalker. She really needed to ask Azzabodacious from the Looloochoochoo Orchids if she knew more about the shy rogue.

Khromie sighed dreamily as she sat down smack dab in the middle of her friends, hugging them to her. "Isn't the world a wonderful place? It's just full of people to fall in love with! Muffin?"

Sizy blinked at Khromie and gestured violently with her eyes towards the door, but she had muffins and... was that coffee? When the bestie didn't register the hint to leave, but instead joined them and sat, offering a muffin, Sizy sighed obnoxiously loud and displeased. She took the muffin from Khomie's hand with a little too much force, bit into the top.

"How's the new SanitationSuit2000 BronzeDragon model working Khromie? Have you activated the Chromie fire breath mode yet?"

The suit in question was a variation on the hazmat suit Sizy had developed before but with a few modifications. Namely, it looked like the bronze dragon Chromie and it featured a cleansing by fire button. Oh, and it feature voice recordings of all the My You're a Tall One books pre-installed, because that's what best friends do when their bestie is constantly forced to clean toilets. She should start a janitorial service, Sizy thought.

((Cleansing by fire! Love it!))

Nyuula smiled at Sizy affections and was just about to agree to help her shopping when Khromie burst into the room. The coffee and muffins quickly wiped away any annoyances that Nyuula would have felt at the interruption. "Khromie! You are a life saver!" She exclaimed as she took some coffee and a muffin gratefully. "I would have to agree with you Khromie. The world is a place full of life and love!" she said as she hugged Sizy around the waist. Giving her a peck in return to the top of her head.

Deep in the mountains bordering the Vale of Eternal Blossoms, a lone grummle waited on a less used trail. There had been just one customer so far, a Forsaken boy carrying the most beautiful bento box. The grummle had tried to trade the very best of his luckydos for that delicious and most fortunate-smelling bento box, but the youth had refused to part with it.

In the end, the Forsaken boy had only wanted a trinket to take back to his mistress, a jade ring the color of ocean tides. It had been hours since the youth had left, and the grummle’s pack was getting heavy.

Also, these clothes! There were so many layers and wraps on top of his fur--and WHY did they wear their STUPID hats so low over their eyes?! I mean, how in the blazes of felfire was he supposed to SEE anything?

With a roar, the grummle threw down the weight of his wares and tore off his hat, stomping on it with the full force of his fury.

It turned out that the grummle was no grummle at all, but a rather small yeti.

“Lord Van Winkle! I found you at last!” A freckled human woman gasped as she tried to catch her breath, tying up her long red hair and fanning herself with an inscribed red fan. “Did we -have- to meet in the mountains like this?” A renowned literary agent at the top of her game, Holly Overspark spent way too much time in her office behind a desk and was unused to such physical exertion.

“Ah, Holly! You made it!” Clearing his throat, the yeti Van Winkle picked up and dusted his discarded hat before placing it back over his head.

“Nice disguise, my lord.”

“Why, thank you, Holly. So, what news do you have for me?”

"The Steamywind Cartel wants to take legal action against this Arthur Pantsdragon. They’ve got their legal team on it already and are asking for my agency’s support."

"No, no. This will not do.”

“But, Lord Van Winkle, you must consider the sancti--”

“No. We will leave this Pantsdragon alone. He is a fool in love. Completely harmless. Besides...” Van Winkle grunted as he shouldered his grummlepack again. "We have had two male leads swinging their sword and staff around. This Arthur Pantsdragon had one thing right."

Van Winkle cracked his knuckles as he said, "It is time for a woman to take charge."

Holly sighed. Over their partnership, she had come to understand that whatever creature resided in the yeti body was wise beyond her years. “I understand, Lord Van Winkle. I’ll see what I can do about the Cartel, but they won’t let go of this easily. This Touch of Is Bee knock-off is getting around! And don’t you pretend that you don’t know about Khromie and that friend of hers distributing copies in Stormwind!”

Van Winkle shrugged. “The Little One and the Sooty One do as they please.”

The yeti’s literary agent pinched the bridge of her nose. “At least tell me that the next manuscript is ready? I need -something- to appease the Cartel with."

"Almost. I am still learning more about this Goblin Queen through the Little One's interactions with her. There are some adjustments to be made."

"Nothing major I hope. We need to get the next one out as soon as possible."

"We shall see. I am considering taking out the chapter about the protagonist collecting and eating cats. It is, perhaps, too much.”

“You are the author, Lord Van Winkle. I am but your dutiful agent.”

“You are the very best of agents, Holly. Thank you for meeting with me. I better get back to it. The grummles have promised me a yak if I can sell out the day’s wares. The Little One very much wants a yak.”

Holly very much wanted a stiff drink. The local fare would do nicely. Still ... “Could we please, please meet at my offices next time, my Lord?”

Van Winkle only laughed, a great rumbling sound from deep within his gut. He waved at Holly, "Farewell, friend of the grummles!"

((ARGH! I want to know that Van winkle is! Another well done snippet of story Khromie!))

When Dred Grimehell finally got to dying, he did not do so easily.

The baleful orc made his fastness in a fel-constructed tower deep in the forbidding swamps of Zangarmarsh, to the chirrup of myriad insects and the throbbing hum of sporebats. It was here he worked his black magics, testing the fabrics of possibility, warping the symmetries the Titans so artfully blessed their mortal creations with. Ever a purveyor of dark knowledge, he had gotten his twisted fingers in a vial of volatile, primordial saurok blood and found the taste to his liking.

Already a popular client on the Horde Inquisition's kill-list, his popularity took a sudden leap to the top when bundles of shambling wrongness began spawning in the marshes, leaving unholy trails of death and decay in their scything wakes.

Inquisitors Da Xiao and Liore Bloodwing took to the field, prioritizing containment over conquest.

Da Xiao, and his compliment of Shado-Pan veterans, spent much of the first week of deployment spreading a barricade that crossed the entire region. He committed a dozen squads to seek-and-destroy missions, hunting down Grimehell's foul creations with the precision and expertise his people were renowned for. Over the course of weeks, his picket line closed in, mile by mile, to form an unbreakable noose surrounding the black tower.

Bloodwing and the Guttersnipe Brigade were more direct in their approach. He would have nothing less but the orc's head, and laid siege to Grimehell's blade-spired keep with the full weight of his forces. Hundreds upon hundreds of forsaken toiled with trenches and bridges, erecting ladders and lacing the fel ramparts with explosives. Towering double-doors burst open every hour, to vomit a fresh wave of mal-formed troglodytes. The creatures crushed bridges and ruined siege vehicles, filling trenches with their mounded dead.

Casualties began to run in the hundreds.

On the fifth week, while Da Xiao scoured the last of the misshapen from the marshes, Bloodwing got his payoff. A unit of Hellcats, the apex commando squad of female forsaken, had tunneled into the diseased tower, set an explosive to the secondary gate. Grimehell caught on and diverted a few of his nastier children to interfere.

The Hellcats fought to the last, her tiny, broken body falling limp just seconds before the detonation that would turn the tide.

It lit up the sky, a lance of red fire splitting the azure mist of Zangarmarsh.

Liore Bloodwing lead the charge in, his undead army pouring in through the breech. Thousands of monstrous forms lurched in every corner, diving from rafters, emerging from trapdoors. The tormented creatures fought for their survival in this unfair life they had awakened to, and fell to the merciless blade and the cleansing flame.

As his tower burned and his children wailed, Dred Grimehell scribbled in his black tome with the fervor of his insane kind. Metal boots clopped up the screw-stair leading to den, lit by green flame and thick with mind-numbing incense.

An Elvin form stalked from the stairwell, boomed his name with an executioner's ardor. He smiled with three of his mouths, and spat words of power from his fourth.

~~

The Snipes rifled through the ruined chamber, selecting blasphemous grimoires and devilish tomes for destruction by fire. Wincing from his many wounds, Liore Bloodwing leaned his armored form against a half-broken wall. Too old for this. Too weary.

The drip of ink caught his eye. He straightened and stepped over to the single desk that had survived the fight, a long loop of scrollwork coiled malevolently on its surface. He took the overturned inkwell with his metal fingers and righted it, stooping to inspect Dred Grimehorn's final works. As he read on, his brow rose higher and higher.

~~

“Fan-fic? I'm afraid I have been lost in translation, brother.” Da Xiao held his mug before his mouth, his bear face scrunched in confusion. Liore shrugged incredulously, sweeping back his short hair and tapping the tarnished counter before them. He kept his tone low, just above the tavern's midnight din.

“Evidently our cultist was an Inkspinner fan. Much of his libraries were composed of the stuff. Mostly erotica. Some shipping.” The elf took a drag, frowning. “Artists, right?”

Inquisitor Da Xiao frowned a little deeper. He rummaged around the complimentary bowl of peanuts.

“What is... shipping?”

“Well- its kind of. Hm. In fan written fiction, it is when two characters engage in a relationship that they otherwise wouldn't.”

The Pandaren did not seem mollified by this definition. “What does that have to do with ships? Is it a naval story?”

Liore adjusted his arm-sling, leaning back in his chair. He had to think about this for a moment.

“No. Not quite. Shipping is... hm.

Shipping is called shipping because canon sinks it.”

On the desk sat a box. A box decorated in sprocket motif paper with silver ribbon and a handwritten note in crayon smudged with grease and oil. It appeared to be a package from both Sizy and Khromie containing both the Touch of Is Bee and the sequel, The Passion of the Frost. Inside the poorly bound tomes was another note written in Khromie's crayon based hand. Sizy must have built a device to wrap the gifts. The note detailed how the now outed failure of an imitation of Quillsy was none other than Arthur Pantsdragon and that Steamywind Cartel was letting the books sell instead of cancelling them so Izby might see a few more people following her of late.

She had noticed following her around the tavern when she worked alongside Gala. Perhaps the reason for this was these books.

Flipping open the manuscripts, she noticed they were even dedicated to her despite her not even remembering this Arthur as a customer. Which was odd, Izby could remember every customer from the Fizzlepop's buying a protection enchantment to their son's workshop apron since he specialized in explosive candies like Crackle Rocks. Or the sewing needles she enchanted with precision for Mrs. Threadington in the Elven tree so she could supply her cubs with new clothes while working a seamstress shop to provide for the family now that the patriarch was dead. She kept reading through.

After about twenty pages, she put the manuscript down and shook her head. This book portrayed her relationship as a fling and sexual romp with no emotion or union. It missed the notion of how bindings worked and even bastardized her language when she referred to Gala as her chala. What was a Chalupa anyway?

Taking out her enchanted ink and especially crafted business stationary, she transcribed her thoughts in a letter to the legal firm of Wiggle, Wigglest, and Wigglesmore asking if she could pursue a cease and desist letter or if maybe that might make things worse.

Unfortunately, at the firm. All of the Gnomish staff were in an uproar of excitement that she wrote to them since the manuscripts were considered required reading for all staff members by all the firms partners. And the response was to allow their continued publishing and extract damages from the author.

She sighed and pushed her hair behind her horns. Chalupa? And Space Blueberry Goat? And what was with all these scenes with her wearing pancakes on her horns? This Arthur really did have some strange fetishes for food and suddenly Izby felt very glad she might have forgotten one customer.

Nyuula finished her reading of 'the touch of Isbee', she made sure to make a note to return it to her Sizy. She leaned back in her chair. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath smelling the sweet scent of the apple trees. She loves the Mage district of stormwind, a place of magic and harmony. Nyuula's pursed her lips as she mulled over the story she just read. It was nice....but felt lacking in certain ways, the author clearly had no idea of Draenei culture and the lead Isbee, felt more like an object of the authors desire, then a real person. Still she did not want to upset her Sizy, and so began to compose her thoughts in a way that would be more flattering to the story.

Trundle. Trundle. Trundle.

"Trundle. Trundle. Trundle."

"What do you keep saying trundle, Sizy?"

"Because it's what I'm doing and it's a fun word to say."

The small gnome looked over the pile of books that now littered one corner of her workshop. It was slowly becoming a library and losing that grease and oil aroma in favor of the paper and ink variety. The rotund gnome on the other side smiled back to her and adjusted her cat rimmed glasses that were on a chain. Splotchy Inkblot was a tad forgetful having forgotten she was wearing glasses while looking for them earlier. More importantly, Splotchy was Sizy's great Aunt twice out.

The closest Sizy could get to knowing Quillsy sat in the Cog Chair fumbling with cookie crumbs on her blouse and smearing pink ink stains into her baby blue shirt.

"Fudgesticks. That'll never come out."

"Just stick it in the StainRemoverMax 3000Extreme."

"Does it still cut the stains out without patching them back up?"

"Oh I knew I forgot to fix that. Can you add it to my list of things to do over there on the wall?"

Sizy couldn't find her copy of The Touch of Is Bee to loan to her aunt so that she could review it and she'd scoured the workshop thirteen times looking for it. It simply had to be here unless she sold it to someone at the PopUp Bookstore sale she had two weeks ago with Khromie. Did she? She plopped onto her butt in the middle of a stack of oil rags that littered the ground outside the overflowing can and put a finger to her mouth. She spent most of that night with her Blue...

Her Blue! She had the book. Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed her happily plump aunt's chubby fingers in her smaller hand and dragged her out the front door. Splotchy fumbled, stumbled, and tumbled to the ground as she tried to stop Sizy.

"What has gotten into you? Dragging me around like that. And where are we going?"

"We're going to see my Blue. She has my copy of the book I want you to read. She's a big fan too. And we can sit around trying to guess what the next Quillsy book will be about while eating cookies with tea."

"Well why didn't you say there would be cookies. Lead on then."

And two squealing women bounded through the streets on the back of Sizy's bear, Pippo, towards the Mage District.

Nyuula meanwhile, was sitting in the green grass having a little picnic of tea and cookies. She looked up into the bright blue sky and smiled. Relishing the beauty of nature, a beauty that she so often ignored. It felt so good just to relax and let her mind drift, for once.

This needs a bump for all the people who haven't read it but were at the Recluse tonight.

I soooo want to see this new MYATO book. Very much so. Yesh.

Sizy had just returned from space where the made of cheese moon that tastes like rocks deprived her of the life-giving alcohol that Khromie had been so kind enough to introduce her to. She couldn't even imagine how she got work done previously without it. Any alcoholic drink with a kick of Rocket Fuel added to it provided her with energy and a mind free to explore all the wonders and beauties that make science so great. Oh, she also needed to add a new device that allowed Gnomes everywhere to get off tables without breaking their face open on the floor. Maybe a pole like the dancers use. Or volunteer fire guys from that Steamywind calendar. The one they used as promotion for the latest book... The Caress of Catroo.

The cover was magnificent. The half-orc beauty was surrounded by all these volunteer fire starters wearing nothing but hats and pants while a fire raged in the background. The one fire guy that Catroo touched look like he was in heaven. Initially, Sizy wondered why the volunteer fire starters weren't helping to put out the fires, but then as she read the book, she understood. No one puts out the flames of desire that Catroo initiated. They are unquenchable. AND SIZY HAD MET HER!

The young Gnome squeal with delight and ran around the workshop, tripping over oil rags, and proceeding to roll around in them. Black smudges that she normally had from hard work, now coated her in pure joy before she remembered she was drunk. And while drunk, she made a fool of herself because she forgot to ask for an autograph. Plus she gave Catroo, her worn out copy of the book, her only companion in space for the three months she was stranded... exploring up there. Her bear Pippo was just too big to fit in the vessel or she'd have taken him to at least play cards. Except he always cheated and ate the Aces and yet somehow he always had them up his fur somewhere...

Oh this would be disasterous. She scrambled through the workshop looking for a cleaner copy of the book that was less ink smudged and oil stained to give to Catroo so she wouldn't see all those embarrassing love notes she'd written in the margins.

After the excitement at the Blue Recluse, Ketyru walked home, arm in arm with Nanluil. Her face was still flushed and he was still chortling. The Gnomes, as they were being affectionately referred to, had caused quite a ruckus but a short while ago.
When she had walked in, Khromie, Sizzle and Sizy had been plying Oarwi-- Orwyn, rather, for alcohol. Something about the Moon, cheese and a good cause. Poor Commander Orwyn, overwhelmed, had fled shortly thereafter. The trio then proceeded to Imperon, the shadowy mage who often occupied the end seat of the table nearest the bar.
By that point, Ketyru, both weary and relieved from recent duties, had celebrated her way half into a large mug of Dwarven Stout. Her years long obligation finally fulfilled, with the help of two very capable friends, she'd come down to the Recluse to relax and catch up with regular, civilian life.
That, however, had proved difficult with all the excitement roused by the three intrepid Gnomes.

"So," Nani chuckled, eyeing the well loved book in Ketyru's arms. "You've become a bit of a celebrity, huh?"
Ket's face darkened again and she wished she weren't so bashful. She ran her fingers over the oily cover of Sizy's book. The Caress of Catroo. How had this happened? Commander Orwyn, Master Imperon, Isabella Frostworn, sure. They were all accomplished, beloved. Heroes of the Alliance.
She, Ketyru, was nothing more than a halfbred outcast.
"Sweetheart? What's wrong?"
Ket sighed, "Oh, Nani, I don't know what to think. Of course, I adore those three and I love the MYATO books..."
"Me ah toe?"
"M Y A T O. It's short for 'My, You're A Tall One', the book series darling."
"Oh."
Nanluil grinned devilishly, his almond eyes glittering in the lamplight. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. Leaning in, his hair falling into both their faces, Ketyru couldn't help but smile.
"You're gonna read it to me, right?"
She butted her head into his chin with an embarrassed snarl.
"No!"