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Post by Nathaenii on Nov 23, 2010 12:50:56 GMT -5
(( Where were you when the sundering happened? Obviously several months have gone by since we last logged on. The world was rocked by the arrival of Deathwing and the rebuilding has been long underway now. So what was your character doing for all of this time? Assisting in the rebuilding of Stormwind? Searching for survivors in the wreckage of Menethil? Helping the Night Elves relocate from Auberdine? Hiding out where it is safe atop the large tree in Darnassus? Whatever it was, lets get a thread started of individual IC accounts of what happened in the chaos. ))
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Post by Cayreth on Nov 25, 2010 15:34:20 GMT -5
The itch was getting worse.
Cayreth laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, trying his best to ignore his arm. He could hear the metallic bustle outside his makeshift room; the night shift crew was about to start their duties.
Resettling Gnomeregan was going really well thanks to the miracles of gnomish engineering. Cayreth never considered himself adept at sciences or mathematics but even he could appreciate a metallic brick that unfolded in elaborate patterns into something that could easily house a small family.
The itch was definitely getting worse. Cayreth could feel it rounding the shoulder and spreading into the chest muscles like a slow-motion river that has finally tasted the freedom of a broken dam. He turned his head and stared out the window. It was snowing. Cayreth loved snow; it was one of the things that made their Northrend crusade against the Scourge bearable. It was also the reason he volunteered to help the gnomes. The Sundering left a large number of cities in ruins, and the Church of the Holy Light set up several relief camps to deal with the aftermath, but none of the camps had those white flakes that fall from the sky and turn everything ordinary into something magical, none except Gnomeregan.
Cayreth replayed the events of last night in his mind. They were hauling medical supplies into the newly constructed --- nay, unfolded --- hospital, when the alarm sounded. Even with the recent successful advance into retaking the city, the pesky troggs remained a serious problem. The nasty creatures crawled out of the tunnel depths, frothing at their mouths and leaping at anything that moved. Cayreth supposed it was the unexpectedness of it all that froze him in place long enough for one of those disgusting things to get a grip on him arm, yet not long enough to prevent the closest guard from blasting the trogg's head into a cloud of green goo and saving his life.
Dr. Frazzlespark said that the arm will be fine, referencing the fact that gnomes get exposed to radiation on a daily basis and a little brush up against an irradiated trogg won't kill Cayreth. At the time, Cayreth decided not to question the authority of an engineering PhD to provide medical advice, but laying there, feeling the entire body get overtaken by this strange itchy feeling, he really wished he had.
Enough, he decided. Realizing that the itch will not allow him to fall asleep, Cayreth swung the blanket aside and stepped out of bed, only to find himself on the floor shortly thereafter. Rolling around to see what tripped him, Cayreth's mind froze in fear. His left leg was half a foot shorter than its right companion.
The itchy feeling intensified.
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Post by aynyk on Dec 9, 2010 22:28:58 GMT -5
Gakpep, Aynyk’s trusty imp wonders, “Where did that pink haired lock go this time? We both left the Slaughtered Lamb Inn at the same time. He should not have tried to walk off that last round Kytai bought just because Xelas was not showing any signs of a buzz. Going alone in the park that late at night was definitely a baaaad idea. Surely he was not sleeping it off on a bench when the sundering started. He didn’t drink THAT much. Hmmmm, I can’t imagine him heading back to Gnomeregan to help with the rebuilding either. He would send his servant, errr mage in to do that menial labor. I must set off to find him.”
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