Eyes on Eyes?

The great city of Stormwind, a prized possession since the first wars against the Orcs. The pinnacle of human military and economic might. Home to such key figures as the child king, the mystical Lady Prestor and the Deeprun Tram. Nestled along the streets of Old Towne we find the guild house for The Lil Yes Seed. They are not your average guild, because there is something quite wrong with them. The Guild Leader bears the title of Drama Queen Brigh Worwat, a human mage, who is beginning to reach “that age”. Lim Froj, the human priestess, is her second in command. A host of other races and classes live under the banner of The Lil Yes Seed.

The guild’s home is decorated in a very bright pink color. One could not call this much of a hall, as the only thing in the building is a large, circular pink bed. At this time, the members are sitting on the bed, while feathers float about the room. They are in various colors of exhaustion and breathing heavily.

“That was like, the most awesome pillow fight ever.” Zaga, the human rogue said as she adjusted herself.

“I was giggling so hard, I thought I would wet the bed,” laughed Rita Cel, another human, but a warrior. A chorus of shrill “Eww’s” broke out amongst the ladies in attendance.

Queen Worwat stood in the center of the bed and announced, “Time to get the meeting started.” The door to the hall opened and in walked four men; two humans, a dwarf and an elf. The same shrill chorus sounded off in unison again, but saying “Hi fellas” like demonic sirens. The four men all cringed and tweaked their ears.

“Remind me why we’re in this guild again,” said Nar Wary, the human warlock, to the other guys. He had one of those fake smiles on his face, to hide his annoyance.

“Let me put it this way, there are roughly forty women in skimpy armor sitting on one bed,” Fy Asa, the elf rogue, told his compatriot.

The dwarf, Lule Lebb, fixed his beard, combed his hair, and said, “I love this place.”

“Alright silly-heads, get over here,” said Queen Worwat. The only men in the guild walked over and sat at the edge of the bed, facing the center where Brigh sat. “The meeting today will start with a flaying!” Once again, the deafening chorus spoke up with cheers and numerous amounts of suggested names. “I hereby sentence Nos Heane to be flayed alive for having the cutest hair!” The girls all charged at the gnome warrior and held her.

“I’ve got the duct tape,” announced Oroci, the other male human.

They tied up the small warrior and left her in the center of the bed as they backed up to the edge again. “Commence the flaying!” Queen Worwat, who was standing above Nos Heane’s head dove down onto the bed first and began to tickle the little one. The other girls jumped in to the center of the bed and began to assist in the ticklage.

Once they were done, they untied Nos and repositioned themselves at the edge again. “Does anyone have any announcements,” asked the guild leader.

“There is going to be a major shoe sale in Ratchet in a few days. I think we should all go, even you guys.” Mist Gete, the elf hunter said.

“What? There’s no way I’m going all the way to Ratchet for shoes,” protested Nar Wary.

“I’ll go,” said Oroci. “There’s no way I’m going to be in this pink brothel with only three other guys.” The other gentlemen, seeing his point, all agreed to go.

The guild all boarded a gryphon and flew south to Booty Bay. They landed in the goblin town shortly before sunset. Somewhere along the border of Duskwood, they lost Roro Wrahr, a human warrior. Apparently, she was seen trying to tie a bow on the mane of a tauren and got backhanded off her gryphon.

“Ok people. The ship leaves bright and early in the morning, so I suggest we board it tonight and sleep in.” Queen Worwat was a smart woman, for a human. The guild all separated and visited the different vendors and characters that inhabited the cove. When night came, the Drama Queen rounded up all of her minions and they checked in to their shoddy cabins.

“Do you hear that?” Bor Neog, a druidic elf, rolled over in her hammock and asked her cabin mates, Mist and Rita.

“Yes, it sounds like someone is skinning a kodo,” replied Rita as Mist giggled to her comment.

“Let’s go see what it is.”

The three women dressed and walked down the corridors of the ship to emerge on the top deck. On the docks were a troll, an undead and a dancing bear, they were making the most awful noises and loudest cheers.

“Excuse me? Can you beasts keep the noise to a low roar?” Rita yelled. The bear shifted back to a tauren, and the three Horde glared at the three women on the ship. They looked back at each other, laughed and then continued their entertainment.

“Oh my God, Rita! They like totally blew you off,” said Mist.

“Hold my purse; I’m going to tell them one for.” Rita Cel, the brave, stupid young woman marched down the steps to the main deck and walked up the docks. She tapped the Undead on the shoulder, saying, “Who do you think you…” before freezing in her tracks. The Undead turned and started to say something in reply, but he also froze.

The Tauren and the Troll poked at the Undead, attempting to wake him from his stupor. The Tauren waved his hand in between the two, and spoke in his Taurahe language. The Troll, seeing that the two were not waking up via coaxing, licked his hand and smacked the Undead on the back of the head. The Undead snapped from his daze and rubbed the back of his head, yelling something in an awful language. The two remaining girls rushed to the docks, careful not to break a sweat and ruin their night facial cream. When the elves showed up, the two of them also stared in a dazed manner at the Troll and Tauren.

The Troll turned to his comrades and said something shrugging.

“Can you understand me?” Rita spoke slowly and articulately to the group of men.

“If we couldn’t understand you, then saying it slowly wouldn’t make a hill of beans,” the Tauren replied in a condescending manner.

“Heh, stupid hooman,” the Troll chimed in.

“I’m going to be the one to say it; have we met before?” Bor said to the Tauren.

“Not that I know of.”

“I’m having the same issues. Like, I think I’ve seen this Troll before somewhere. Are we asleep?” Mist said to her friends. The Troll poked the elf and got a slap on the hand. “Don’t touch those.”

“What if we are in some sort of rift of time where things are exact opposites? A pretty woman like me is an ugly undead male on the other side, and these creatures passed through that rift to take our souls and shave our heads.” Rita cowered behind her elven friends.

The Undead stood in awe at what the woman was saying, then chimed in. “You- You’re a clever one! Are you from another plane, or just a shadow of a man? Are you my brother, you look like me.” He raised his arms in the air and yelled “Trapped inside another world, my lost twin.” The Troll and Tauren looked at each other, then at the two elves. “Nah,” they all said in unison, then turned and went their separate ways, leaving the Human and the Undead standing around prophesizing.

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