Objective: Write small stories written around a single word.
Theme: World of Warcraft
Stories 14-18
14. Fire
"I don't know how I'm going to do fire." She interrupted him with a murmur, setting down her stylus. Grinning crookedly, she placed the tankard back on the table.
"To be honest, I don't know if fire would fit on there."
Cylus tried dusting off her hands, but the sawdust clung stubbornly.
Zakon glanced at the mess on her side of the table. "Need to wash up?"
"Just leave out fire?" The auburn-haired woman shook her head pondering on where to take her carving next. Her eye followed his and she frowned at the wood shavings before her. "Oh, no... I'll just rinse them after."
"Perhaps simply draw a fire elemental?"
"But fire is more than that... I want to portay its natural state." Cylus twisted the metal point trying to shave off a tiny sliver of wood. Slipping from her grasp, the stylus ended up stabbing her thumb.
Zakon arose out of his chair like a shot, hurrying to her side a moment after Alexea beat him to it.
Pulling the bleeding thumb from her mouth she frowned. "It hurts, but it's minor." Then she noticed the cup. "Ah... I've bled on it."
"It'll be fine, it's wood." Assuring himself her injury was only slight he returned to his seat.
Cylus stared at the tankard for a full moment before taking up the stylus in hand once more. Using it to spread out a few drops of the blood, she filled in a few of the grooves darkening the yellow woodgrain exposed from carving. When she was unable to wave off Alexea, the knight slumped back against her chair holding out her hand with reluctance. "You're interfering with a masterpiece."
Alexea ignored the gruffness in her friend's voice. "It's still bleeding." Utilizing her healer's training, coupled by gentle hands the priestess fussed with the small wound until it met with her approval.
Cylus glowered at the heavily bandaged thumb. "I think I'll live now."
Alexea only nodded.
15. Flexible
The Wetlands hid all manner of nasties in the marsh. Longsnout crocolisks, camouflaged elementals, and gnolls inhabited the area. A mere stone's throw from the gates of Menethil Harbor were an infestation of murlocs, their crude campsites littering the shores of the swamp.
Cylus had come to fulfill a promise.
Striding from the tavern, she unslung Oathkeeper and left the town. Earlier that day, she had set up a score of cunning traps as part of her murloc relocation program. Now she was eager to see just how many she had caught. Parting the thick reeds lining the narrow stream, Cylus dropped her jaw to see each of the cages smashed save one--and that murloc was wriggling his way free. His squamous hide and his maddeningly flexible frog legs only aided to the speed of his escape. Turning his fish eyes to her, the murloc chucked a spear at her head.
"Mmmmmmmgrrlllgrrrrrllgrrrllllll!"
An ambush. Just like what happened to Fedarodang's friend. To her friend. Snarling, Cylus batted away the spear and rushed forward to meet not one murloc, but suddenly she faced a knot of frogmen. Their battles cries were hurting her ears. Roaring, she unleashed her rage.
"For Jerry!!!"
16. Flying
There was a loud commotion near the griffons and Master Nutral eyed the large gathering of people with some disapproval. Off to his right a handful of observers who held nothing in common save their youth were cheering. Loud explosions and small cannons fired off a bit too close and each near miss was met with his stern glare. The steamtonks were mostly harmless, but the frivolous display in his fine city was more than he could tolerate. Just as Nutral was about to speak, a young draenei girl tugged on his jerkin, her hand a rich violet.
"My apologies, Master Nutral, but I am to deliver this letter to you. It is from my father."
Shifting in his leather armor, Nutral gave the child a kinder look, the irritation of earlier smoothing away into a sympathetic smile. "I will read it then. Thank you, Vicaeleni."
The girl nodded quickly, her eyes glued to the steamtonks. Paladins, who she had thought were really quite serious, boring people were laughing and controlling their fascinating gadgets. It felt good to laugh again.
"I wish I could show this to father..."
Her voice filled with such wonder that it took away the rest of his ire. While the steamtonk battle might have been a noisy barrage to some, to this child it was a salve. Nutral straightened his broad shoulders.
"Little Vica, give me your hand."
The young girl turned and held out her palm, though her eyes remained glued to the steamtonks. Gentle tugging on her hand prompted her to return her attention to the flightmaster. "Yes, Master Nutral?"
"You will make haste to Telaar where you will deliver the rest of this letter to Furgu." Nutral slipped the parchment back in its case. "Do not fear for your father." The somber draenei swung her up on gryphonback and then took a moment to squeeze Vicaeleni's hand reassuringly. "Pull your cloak tightly about yourself so that it does not get taken by the wind."
"Master Nutral?"
He viewed her quietly, relinquishing the parchment case. "Yes, child?"
Whispering softly, her eyes held a plea. "But I don't want to go."
And then little Vica was flying.
17. Food
It was the mouthwatering aroma of hot-buttered trout that pulled her into the Recluse that day. Stopping at a table, Cylus reacquainted herself with the regulars and politely inquired about their respective families. Eventually the smell dragged her into the kitchen.
"Hi there, Connor. Can I get a plate of that?"
Grinning as broadly as his cousin, Connor Rivers called over his shoulder. "Surething, Captain Cylus."
The sound of him humming as he cooked followed her back up the stairs.
Her stomach growled ferociously at the prospect of food, and fine fare at that. Heading to the upper landing, she made sure to pick up a bottle of strong white wine to go with her meal. Settling into a chair, Cylus toyed with the candlesticks until her plate arrived.
"I need to take you with me to the field. I'd never eat another rationed biscuit again."
Erec's cousin laughed heartily, blushing faintly with praise. "Savor it, you're missing the flavor when you wolf it down."
18. Foot
"You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."
Eledaine Fe'dananlen didn't bother turning around.
"I could write the most heartwarming of songs if only you'd be my muse."
She kept walking, the polished polearm strapped to her back usually incentive enough to leave her be. But this was Goldshire after all.
"I pledge myself to be your devoted servant! Please, miss, I must know your name."
Tilting her head she slowed her stride and faced him with bemusement, tapping her foot as she waited for him to catch up to her.
The shabbily dressed human scurried forth and bowed deeply, his face flushed with passion.
"What need have I for a servant?" Her voice dropped to a silken purr. Noting the eager light in his eyes a feral grin played over her parted lips. The huntress closed the distance between them, their bodies nearly touching. Sliding a pink tongue over wet lips, the smirk regained hold of her features. Her breath was hot and enticing against his cheek and it was all he could manage to stay still, hands clenched to his sides. "What need have I for anything I cannot take on my own?"
He gulped audibly, doing nothing to hide the perspiration on his brow.
"But I do so honor your pledge, human." When she drew back his pained sigh of longing revealed all too well his desires. "I will hold you to your vows and make you regret offering yourself so hastily."
He regarded the night elf with such undisguised yearning, oblivious to the menace her words implied.
Stories 1-7 8-13
Theme: World of Warcraft
Stories 14-18
14. Fire
"I don't know how I'm going to do fire." She interrupted him with a murmur, setting down her stylus. Grinning crookedly, she placed the tankard back on the table.
"To be honest, I don't know if fire would fit on there."
Cylus tried dusting off her hands, but the sawdust clung stubbornly.
Zakon glanced at the mess on her side of the table. "Need to wash up?"
"Just leave out fire?" The auburn-haired woman shook her head pondering on where to take her carving next. Her eye followed his and she frowned at the wood shavings before her. "Oh, no... I'll just rinse them after."
"Perhaps simply draw a fire elemental?"
"But fire is more than that... I want to portay its natural state." Cylus twisted the metal point trying to shave off a tiny sliver of wood. Slipping from her grasp, the stylus ended up stabbing her thumb.
Zakon arose out of his chair like a shot, hurrying to her side a moment after Alexea beat him to it.
Pulling the bleeding thumb from her mouth she frowned. "It hurts, but it's minor." Then she noticed the cup. "Ah... I've bled on it."
"It'll be fine, it's wood." Assuring himself her injury was only slight he returned to his seat.
Cylus stared at the tankard for a full moment before taking up the stylus in hand once more. Using it to spread out a few drops of the blood, she filled in a few of the grooves darkening the yellow woodgrain exposed from carving. When she was unable to wave off Alexea, the knight slumped back against her chair holding out her hand with reluctance. "You're interfering with a masterpiece."
Alexea ignored the gruffness in her friend's voice. "It's still bleeding." Utilizing her healer's training, coupled by gentle hands the priestess fussed with the small wound until it met with her approval.
Cylus glowered at the heavily bandaged thumb. "I think I'll live now."
Alexea only nodded.
15. Flexible
The Wetlands hid all manner of nasties in the marsh. Longsnout crocolisks, camouflaged elementals, and gnolls inhabited the area. A mere stone's throw from the gates of Menethil Harbor were an infestation of murlocs, their crude campsites littering the shores of the swamp.
Cylus had come to fulfill a promise.
Striding from the tavern, she unslung Oathkeeper and left the town. Earlier that day, she had set up a score of cunning traps as part of her murloc relocation program. Now she was eager to see just how many she had caught. Parting the thick reeds lining the narrow stream, Cylus dropped her jaw to see each of the cages smashed save one--and that murloc was wriggling his way free. His squamous hide and his maddeningly flexible frog legs only aided to the speed of his escape. Turning his fish eyes to her, the murloc chucked a spear at her head.
"Mmmmmmmgrrlllgrrrrrllgrrrllllll!"
An ambush. Just like what happened to Fedarodang's friend. To her friend. Snarling, Cylus batted away the spear and rushed forward to meet not one murloc, but suddenly she faced a knot of frogmen. Their battles cries were hurting her ears. Roaring, she unleashed her rage.
"For Jerry!!!"
16. Flying
There was a loud commotion near the griffons and Master Nutral eyed the large gathering of people with some disapproval. Off to his right a handful of observers who held nothing in common save their youth were cheering. Loud explosions and small cannons fired off a bit too close and each near miss was met with his stern glare. The steamtonks were mostly harmless, but the frivolous display in his fine city was more than he could tolerate. Just as Nutral was about to speak, a young draenei girl tugged on his jerkin, her hand a rich violet.
"My apologies, Master Nutral, but I am to deliver this letter to you. It is from my father."
Shifting in his leather armor, Nutral gave the child a kinder look, the irritation of earlier smoothing away into a sympathetic smile. "I will read it then. Thank you, Vicaeleni."
The girl nodded quickly, her eyes glued to the steamtonks. Paladins, who she had thought were really quite serious, boring people were laughing and controlling their fascinating gadgets. It felt good to laugh again.
"I wish I could show this to father..."
Her voice filled with such wonder that it took away the rest of his ire. While the steamtonk battle might have been a noisy barrage to some, to this child it was a salve. Nutral straightened his broad shoulders.
"Little Vica, give me your hand."
The young girl turned and held out her palm, though her eyes remained glued to the steamtonks. Gentle tugging on her hand prompted her to return her attention to the flightmaster. "Yes, Master Nutral?"
"You will make haste to Telaar where you will deliver the rest of this letter to Furgu." Nutral slipped the parchment back in its case. "Do not fear for your father." The somber draenei swung her up on gryphonback and then took a moment to squeeze Vicaeleni's hand reassuringly. "Pull your cloak tightly about yourself so that it does not get taken by the wind."
"Master Nutral?"
He viewed her quietly, relinquishing the parchment case. "Yes, child?"
Whispering softly, her eyes held a plea. "But I don't want to go."
And then little Vica was flying.
17. Food
It was the mouthwatering aroma of hot-buttered trout that pulled her into the Recluse that day. Stopping at a table, Cylus reacquainted herself with the regulars and politely inquired about their respective families. Eventually the smell dragged her into the kitchen.
"Hi there, Connor. Can I get a plate of that?"
Grinning as broadly as his cousin, Connor Rivers called over his shoulder. "Surething, Captain Cylus."
The sound of him humming as he cooked followed her back up the stairs.
Her stomach growled ferociously at the prospect of food, and fine fare at that. Heading to the upper landing, she made sure to pick up a bottle of strong white wine to go with her meal. Settling into a chair, Cylus toyed with the candlesticks until her plate arrived.
"I need to take you with me to the field. I'd never eat another rationed biscuit again."
Erec's cousin laughed heartily, blushing faintly with praise. "Savor it, you're missing the flavor when you wolf it down."
18. Foot
"You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."
Eledaine Fe'dananlen didn't bother turning around.
"I could write the most heartwarming of songs if only you'd be my muse."
She kept walking, the polished polearm strapped to her back usually incentive enough to leave her be. But this was Goldshire after all.
"I pledge myself to be your devoted servant! Please, miss, I must know your name."
Tilting her head she slowed her stride and faced him with bemusement, tapping her foot as she waited for him to catch up to her.
The shabbily dressed human scurried forth and bowed deeply, his face flushed with passion.
"What need have I for a servant?" Her voice dropped to a silken purr. Noting the eager light in his eyes a feral grin played over her parted lips. The huntress closed the distance between them, their bodies nearly touching. Sliding a pink tongue over wet lips, the smirk regained hold of her features. Her breath was hot and enticing against his cheek and it was all he could manage to stay still, hands clenched to his sides. "What need have I for anything I cannot take on my own?"
He gulped audibly, doing nothing to hide the perspiration on his brow.
"But I do so honor your pledge, human." When she drew back his pained sigh of longing revealed all too well his desires. "I will hold you to your vows and make you regret offering yourself so hastily."
He regarded the night elf with such undisguised yearning, oblivious to the menace her words implied.
Stories 1-7 8-13