The pathetic lower race…

*Warning, this is an RP story post that I said I would start in this post. This is for amusement and entertainment. Please skip this if you don’t like these types of posts.*

Majick dismounted his wind rider and grimaced. The stink of sweaty tauren and orc filled the cramped space of this pathetically small outpost. Barely hiding his disgust for the unwashed flith, he began to mount his horse when he was stopped by a young orc warrior, clearly just starting his chosen career. To the mage’s surprise, the orc was able to speak with coherence and intelligence instead of the halting and struggling speech of most of his station.

“Mage, we need your help. There are two Alliance that are attacking the soldiers here.”

Majick’s eyes flashed and the air around him buzzed with energy, making the young warrior nervous. All undead detested those not of their kind, even their barely tolerated Horde allies. The mage, however, had a special hatred for the Alliance, having been attacked on more than one occassion throughout his long career.

“What are they orc?” The mage was far too old and had been through too many battles to rush headlong into a fight without information.

The orc nodded, clearly please with the Forsaken’s response.

“There is a dwarf hunter and a very large bear that we believe to be a druid. They are attacking members of our scout parties and several of the vendors in the area have been found dead in their stalls. I was able to observe the hunter however I was unable to determine his skill. He is far more advanced than I am to be sure” The orc looked somewhat distressed by this fact.

Majick nodded. The orc was far from a warrior’s prime, and was most likely less skilled than most in the area.

“I will find them and destroy them both, young orc, and I will savor it,” he hissed.

The warrior raised his eyebrows and nodded his head, stepping aside to allow the volatile mage pass.

Majick climbed atop his horse and began to leave the Crossroads when he was stopped by another orc warrior. This warrior was a pathetic excuse for a being, even for an orc. His armor was badly rusted and beaten and his body already going to soft at a young. His face had even less intelligence in it than most orcs. Majick believed he already knew where this conversation would go.

“You give me gold?” Majick recoiled from the strong smell of spirits on the fool’s breath before leaning forward and scowling.

“Move aside simpleton. You will get neither my gold nor my pity, but if you continue to hinder or pester me, I will gladly give you my wrath.” growled the undead, putting his power of the arcane behind his words to force them into the orc’s thick skull.

The orc hastily retreated and went to look for another to beg from. The undead sniffed, why the Dark Lady ever decided to ally with these beasts he would never know. He dug his heels into the fleshless sides of his warhorse to urge him on and left the began to scout the outer edges of the Crossroads.

The wizard looked around him, internally lamenting the fact that his component gathering brought him to the hot and glaring Barrens. If he had known, he may have thought twice before studying the art of glyphs.

So involved with his inner thoughts, he forgot he was scouting for Alliance and found a rather large boar rushing out at him. Majick dismounted quickly, trying to throw up a defensive shield before he was gored on one of the hated creatures tusks. The boar, however, was too close and lunged. The mage noted the boar and saw that it really posed no threat to him, simply stepping to the side as it charged past. He turned around and studied the animal as it recovered itself for a second pass, and then stopped. The boar was a normal boar, but of a slightly different variety than those found close by in durotar. This one actually looked like the ones that could be found in…

The mage’s eyes widened with realizing his own danger, he quickly threw up a defensive spell to shield himself, narrowly deflecting the arrow that had been shot at him. He turned and looked at the dwarf who had fired upon him and sneered. This was no threat to him, this dwarf was so far below his ability that disposing of him seemed less a chore and more a passing whim.

The dwarf recognized this at the same time and, eyes filling with fright, frantically chanted a quick spell and fired another arrow. Majick could tell what this one was, a funny little hunter spell that put their target to sleep. Majick smiled as the arrow impacted and the spell fizzled, unable to put the undead mage into a sleep.

The dwarf dropped his bow and turned to run.

“Fool” Majick laughed. “Have you never faced THE FORSAKEN!?”

With that he sent a bolt of arcane energy into the dwarf’s body, ripping his life from him in less than a second. The mage walked over the body, sending out a small final explosion to dispatch the hunter’s pet.

As he passed the body, a roar ripped through the savannah. He turn to find a tremendous bear ripping the throat of a guard out and turning to face him. He smiled, this must be our druid friend, I suppose we could toy with our food first. The bear had been fighting the guards for some time while someone close to Majick’s level of ability would have easily dispatched them.

“Come then druid, I am eager to feast on your corpse.” Spoken in his best common.

The druid roared again and replied “I will tear the unlife from your carcass, abomination.” And with that said, the druid charged. The mage watched as the bear cam closer and closer and at the last possible second, he froze the ground around him, trapping the druid in ice. The druid howled in rage. Majick shook his head, a more experienced druid would have shifted to a smaller form and simply slipped out of the ice, this one was far too young to present any amusement. He reached out and patted the bears head, careful to pull away  before he was bitten.

He slowly began to walk away and cast a slowing spell on his victim, watching as the bear struggled to catch up to him. He laughed and walked right next to it and then cut it with his small dagger. This caused no real harm to the druid but demonstrated that the elf had gotten in over their head. The druid realized this and that they were being toyed with and said a silent prayer right before a barrage of arcane energy tore into the bear, ripping it from the world of the living in a wave of agony.

Majick smiled and walked over to the corpse that had turned back into the Night Elf female. He dropped down into a crouch and breathed deep the smell of death before enjoying his feast. Night elves always tasted best.


A mass of steel and cold dead flesh shifted far away as the cries of comrades falling reached him. He picked up his blue hued glowing warsword and began to walk in the direction of the Barrens…



  1. Nice one… luckily no Gnomes were harmed in the creation of this story….

  2. moomajick said

    Heh, not yet at least. I can’t forget my favorite little bite size snacks.

  3. Morane said


    I do like the RP stories that have a solid grounding in what actually happens in game. And yes, elves *do* taste the best.

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