Answers to the questions you’ve all been asking…

Thursday, March 5th, 2009

Well, only Arrens really asked them to me.  By tagging me in one of these blog “me-me!” things.  But bloggers have been asking each other, generally.

Going to also follow Arrens by answering each question for 3 characters.  I now consider my mage Main #3!

What is your name and where did it come from?

Hunter: To be honest, not sure where Brajana came from… sounded Troll-ish, and I wanted to make sure I had something that could be shortened for an easy nickname (Braj),  although I didn’t realize it could also be shortened to Bra.  Also didn’t think people would pronounce the ‘j’ as an ‘h’.  Silly.

Priest: I wanted something that sounded humanesque, something that could be both a first or last name.  So I consulted my bookshelf and settled on Ferguson, named after Will & Ian Ferguson.

Mage: First her name was Pixxel. Then it was Brajana.  Now it is Alouette, based on the song I grew up with, and had it in my head when I was trying to come up with a new name.  It means ‘Skylark’ in French.

How old are you and what is your birthday?

Hunter:  29. Born in the spring.

Priest: 23 at age of death.  Unsure about birthday.

Mage: 21, same age as me.

Are you in love and with whom?

Hunter: Brajana has a thing for Thrall, although she won’t admit to it.  She doesn’t really know what it is… love, admiration, idolization.  But it’s something.

Priest: Ferguson was happily married at a very young age.  He and his wife had 2 lovely children, aged 3 and 1 when the plague hit.  He still loves them dearly, although he tries not to think about them.

Mage: Well, there’s this dwarf…  *giggle*

What is your favourite mount and why?

Hunter: That’s a really tough one.  Probably between the Brewfest Ram and Talbuk.  Or the raptor.

Mage:  All she needs is her Swift White Mechanostrider! :)   As for a flying mount.. Gah, all the alliance ones are so pretty, how could I choose?

Do you prefer a certain type of Azerothian meal and where do you get it from?

Hunter: Still partial to Grilled Mudfish.  Tasty.  Also, any food that my pet will also eat is handy.

Priest:  Ferg’s a vegetarian.  He likes fruits and veggies  and stuff.

Mage: She’s only ever had one, but she does enjoy those Tasty Cupcakes!

You know those giant mushrooms in Zangarmarsh? What is your theory on how they came to be and why are they so huge?

Hrm, there must be something in that swampy marsh water.  Must investigate further; Super-tall gnome is a must.

If you saw the Lich King walking toward you, what would you do?

Hunter: Walking towards ME?  Ugh did I face pull again?

Priest: Confront him in vain.  He won’t hear, he won’t listen, but there are things that must be said.

Mage: [Polymorph: Penguin]!  Ha!

Hope you enjoyed the filler post. :)

Oh, and The Stoppable Force, Doogie, Neg/Neggles/Negathle, AoirselvarYou’re turn!


Wednesday? Five-hundred: A Gift

Wednesday, February 18th, 2009

Anna from Too Many Annas has prompted for a short “ficlet” about a character.  The limit is 500 words, although mine is nearing 700.  Just couldn’t cut it down anymore!  The prompt was:

Write an event, a situation, or a scene that involves your character as a child/teenager and has some impact on your character later in life.

I previously wrote a story for Brajana.  This story is about Ferguson and Anabelle, my undead priest and warrior.

As the two military officers walked away from the small cottage, Rebecca slowly closed her front door.  Her eyes were wide, her mouth hung open in an expression of confusion and shock.  She just stood there, staring out the window at the front gate.

“Mom?  I think Anabelle needs to be changed again… she smells.”  Her five-year-old son came into the room carrying the newborn, just barely a week old.

“Um, Mom?  Who was that at the door? I thought it was father… when’s he coming back from duty?  You said he would be back yesterday!”  Rebecca continued to stare in disbelief, until she felt a tugging at her apron which brought her spinning back to reality.  She looked down to see Ferguson holding her crying baby girl.

“Here, take her!  She stinks!”  As Rebecca took the girl in her hands, she suddenly felt no connection to it, as if it weren’t her own, as if she hadn’t spent the last nine months carrying her in the womb.

She was never cut out to be a mother.  She fell in love when she was much too young, and only bore her two children because it’s what her husband wanted.  And now he was gone.  Slain in battle, fighting demons… he was her life, all that mattered to her.  And yet here she remained with his two children.

She knew what she had to do.  She couldn’t care for these children.  She could not live if her love did not live.

After placing the baby in her cradle, Rebecca went to the kitchen and soon returned to the children’s room with a basket of fresh bread.

“Ferguson.  I need you to take your sister and this fresh bread to the Abbey.  Give them this note.  Do not read it, just give it to them.  I’m giving them a gift.”

“But… why do I have to bring Anabelle? Can’t I just bring the bread and come back?” Ferguson said as he put his jacket on.  His mother frequently asked him to make deliveries… but the baby hadn’t left home since she was born.

“Just take her and go, Ferguson.  And make sure the priest reads the letter when you get there.”

Ferguson did as his mother asked and walked the half-mile down to the Abbey with his still smelly sister in one arm and the basket of bread in the other.  When he finally arrived, he handed the bread and passed the note to the priest who answered the door.

“My mother says she wants to give you a gift.” Ferguson waited as the priest read the note and sighed.

“Come in, son.  I’ll see if we’ve got another bed for you and your sister.”

“Thank you, father.  But we should be getting back to mother, before it gets dark.”  Ferguson said.

“You’re orphans now.  You’re father is dead.  By now, your mother is probably also dead.  You’ve nothing left to get back to.”


Friday Five Hundred: The Warchief

Friday, February 6th, 2009

Anna from Too Many Annas has prompted for a short “ficlet” about a character.  The limit is 500 words, although mine is nearing 700.  Just couldn’t cut it down anymore!  The prompt was:

Write an event, a situation, or a scene that involves your character as a child/teenager and has some impact on your character later in life.

I chose to write about Brajana.  If I have my timelines correct, this story takes place just after the establishment of Orgrimmar, about 8 years ago.  Brajana was about 11 years old.

The Warchief

“Why can’t I bring Zither?” Brajana asked her father, as she trudged along the road to Orgrimmar.

“You just can’t bring a snake to a festival.  There are going to be people everywhere.  What if you lost him?” he replied half-heartedly.  As much as she loved the snake she’d been nursing, he knew she’d forget all about the Village once she saw the Great City.

“Do you know why we are going to Orgrimmar?” Brajana’s father was a very proud warrior of the New Horde, and it was very important to him that his daughter understand their history.

“To visit Thrall!”

“You must call him ‘Warchief’, Braj. He deserves all of your respect.”

But there was no response from the young Troll.

They’d come within eyesight of the magnificent city, and she’d stopped in her tracks.  She’d never seen such great walls. She’d seen the Orcish design of Razor Hill Outpost, but this was like a dream to her.

“Come along Brajana, and stay close. I have enough trouble keeping track of you in Sen’jin!”

Brajana walked the rest of the way in silence, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

Orgrimmar was bustling with Orcs, Tauren and even Forsaken, blood red flags were flying from every building, and war drums could be heard over the roaring of the crowd.

“Your Uncle should be here, we should find him before the feast begins.”  Her father said as he dragged his awe-struck daughter toward the Valley of Honor.

Of course her uncle was near the stables.  He was a Beastmaster, and Brajana seemed to be following closely in his footsteps.

“Look at the animals while your uncle and I talk, Braj.  But don’t leave the Valley!”  He’d barely finished when Brajana bolted off to see the Wolves and Raptors.

After a few minutes discussing her favourite pets with the Stable Master, something caught Brajana’s eye over by the pool of water.


She’d spotted a small snake slithering around the edge of the Valley entrance.  Brajana was learning to Track Beasts from her uncle, and she took any chance she had to put it into practice.

She followed it around a few corners, but with all the Orcs and Taurens blocking her view, she eventually lost her prey and gave up.  It was only then that she realized how dark it had gotten.  She was in some sort of cave, a dim purple glow coming from the nearby tents.  And then she saw – warlock summon circles.  She’d heard of the dark witch doctor Zalazane from the stories they told naughty children… she needed to hide!

She saw light coming from a tunnel ahead of her, and she darted towards it.  She ran to the closest building with closed doors and sneaked inside to catch her breath.  When she had, she turned around to find herself in large, extravagant chamber.  With a throne.

She tiptoed over to the Throne, and when she’d decided the coast was clear, climbed up and sat down.

From the seat, she could see banners hanging on the walls representing all the races of the Horde.  There were murals depicting battles and historic events lining the walls.

“Um, excuse me, I think that’s my seat your in there, young Troll.”

Brajana froze.  She knew who this throne belonged too.  She panicked, and said the only thing she thought of.

“Brajana.  My name is Brajana.”

“Nice to meet you, Brajana.  My name is Thrall.”  He offered her his massive hand, and she took it.

“My father says I have to call you ‘Warchief’.” She told him and she climbed down from the seat of power.

“Well, Brajana, we are friends now.  You may call me Thrall.  Now, tell me, what brings you to my city?”

Nearly an hour later, when the feast was about to begin, Thrall brought Brajana to her father and uncle.

Looking at her uncle, Thrall simply said, “Teach her well. She will be a great huntress someday.”


RP Mad libs Part 2: Best RSP Flag Ever

Wednesday, January 28th, 2009

Here is the conclusion of Anna’s RP Mad lib, with my answers filled in.  You can see the story with the blanks here.  Look forward to seeing some of the stories!

Rose Jug-Sniffer

At first glance this woman appears to be 29, but her magnetic jaw suggest perhaps that she is older. Her movements are intense, especially her stride. With every step her bit pulls, drawing attention to the tabard made of the finest tunnels. You also notice the mechanical left hand clinking behind her, made of shiny metal. Around her left wrist is a Kobold staff bracelet, and she seems to eye it smoothly.

Her eyes are teal and dirty like a mustache – you can tell right away that she is furious and jealous. She has a bright and sparkly scar on her can that looks like she was once held captive by a Night Elf. Her unrestrained hair is puce as a dagger.

She is wearing dingy mittens that are very harmful, that fling her thigh nicely. When you see her, she’s either following repeatedly or defeating gradually, but she never takes her eyes off the so-called laser that she uses as a weapon.

Upon closer inspection, however, you feel that something about her is not quite right – maybe she’s part giant toad?


RP Mad libs Part 1

Tuesday, January 27th, 2009

Anna over at Too Many Annas has posted a neat little activity on her blog.  I’ve previously participated in her Friday Five RP segments, and this sounded like fun… so rock on!

If you don’t know how mad libs work, it’s like a story with most of the important parts replaced with blanks.  You are given a list of types of things (noun, adjective, colour, etc) and you fill in these blanks without seeing the story.  Afterwards, you put the two together, and in most cases, hillarity ensues.

So here are my list of words, and tomorrow I’ll repost Anna’s story with my words in the blanks.

Here’s what you need:

  1. Flower: rose
  2. Noun: jug
  3. Verb: sniffing
  4. Number: 29
  5. Adjective: magnetic
  6. Noun: bubble
  7. Body Part: jaw
  8. Adverb: intensely
  9. Noun: bit
  10. Verb: pulling
  11. Article of Clothing: tabard
  12. Noun: tunnel
  13. Body part: left hand
  14. Adjective: shiny
  15. Monster: Kobold
  16. Noun: staff
  17. Adverb: smoothly
  18. Color: teal
  19. Adjective: dirty
  20. Noun: mustache
  21. Emotion: furious
  22. Emotion: jealous
  23. Adjective: bright
  24. Adjective: sparkly
  25. Noun: can
  26. Monster: Night Elf (Yeah, yeah, they’re monsters to me!)
  27. Color: puce
  28. Noun: dagger
  29. Adjective: dingy
  30. Article of Clothing: mitten
  31. Adjective: harmful
  32. Verb: flinging
  33. Body part: thigh
  34. Verb: following
  35. Adverb: repeatedly
  36. Verb: defeating
  37. Adverb: gradually
  38. Adjective: so-called
  39. Noun: laser
  40. Monster: giant toad