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Piggies
#1

He was alive again. More importantly, Anya was alive. He reached up and brushed a lock of her red hair out of her face. Her grey eyes sparkled like diamonds, and he kissed her. They had set up a picnic under a tree in Westfall which overlooked the ocean. The ocean lapped at the sand, with soft rhythmic breaths. They were lying in the grass and she drew in close to him wrapping an arm around his waist. It was slightly cold, so he put his hand over it.

"€œI love you, Razan,"€ she whispered.

"€œI love you too, Anya," he said.

"€œDo you want to <grunt> <snort>"€

Razan frowned at his wife. "€œI'€™m sorry, what did you say?"€

His wife grunted again. Her arm, around his waist had gotten heavier, and had doubled in size. He tried to get up but was being held down. Anya'€™s nose poked at his face, but it wasn'€™t her nose anymore. It was a pig snout, cold and metallic. Her body disappeared leaving only her head, which was now a small metallic pig, that whirred and snorted.

Rincewindy woke up. He was staring directly at the pig from his dreams. The pig was pawing at the dirt and vomiting something into it. A small thorny vine sprouted immediately, growing at an alarming rate. It looked like the vines down in the southern Barrens that the Razormanes grew. He sat up...that is he tried to sit up, but was being held down around his waist by a vine with thorny spikes as big as his forearm. He cried out in alarm.

He was still in the library, and the book that he'€™d been working on was covered in black ink and metallic pig prints. The candle that he'€™d been using to light the pages had about half an inch of wick and wax left.

He cried out even louder, "€œSomebody help!"€ He'€™d hoped that he had yelled loud enough for someone to hear.

The second vine was now the size of a small child, a thorny spike was jutting out and headed right for his face. He began to squirm in the grasp of the other vine, trying to wiggle out of the entrapment. "€œHelp!"€ He was screaming at the top of his lungs. A thought crossed his mind, and he used his free arm to cast a frost bolt on the smaller vine. The blast hit the vine, squarely, and the growth seemed to slow, briefly. He cast another frost bolt on the vine and another. Finally, the vine was completely covered in frost, and sagged lifelessly to the ground. He looked around for the pig and saw it pawing at the ground on the far side of the room.

Out in the hall he could hear more metallic grunts. He heard the sound of something crashing to the ground.

He reached into his tunic and tugged at the knives wrapped in cloth. One of them came free and he began to stab at the vine around his waist. The vine resisted the knife, it’s hard casing as tough as the bark of a tree. He cursed and stabbed at it repeatedly.



Out in the hallway, the pigs scampered around, pawing at the dirt and vomiting their thorny seeds. Further down the hallway, vines were growing at an alarming rate. The metallic pigs grunted and snorted as they moved about.

There was the whisper of a door being closed. The gnome breathed a sigh of relief as he travelled down the hill, using his stealth and the cover of night as his allies. It would be light soon, and he didn't want to be anywhere near the place when the inhabitants awoke. He smiled, as he recalled the interaction he had with the pig people. They were so pleased at his suggestion of him planting the seeds and all they'd have to do was take care of the occupants while they were distracted with the vines. He smirked as he saw the movement along the horizon. The Quillboars certainly knew how to raise an army. He met up with Ryak, behind a rocky outcropping. "Things couldn'€™t be going better. Perhaps the pigs will do a better job of taking out this threat than the cultists did."

Ryak nodded wordlessly. It had gone beyond payback, now. He quietly thanked Squigvicious for bringing this threat to the Alliance to his attention. He would be rewarded greatly if things did go as planned. He watched through the telescope as a the vines began to overrun the complex.
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#2
Mula awoke to the sound of groaning. She immediately got out of bed and lit the candle by her bed. There was a 'crack' as the wood on her door began to give way to pressure on the other side. She then noticed several thorny protrusions that had begun to jut through the wood and frowned. She pulled on the door handle. It appeared to be stuck. She pulled again, this time using her strength. The door gave way, splitting down the middle all the way. Mula's battle instincts kicked in and she stopped her fall backwards with her hoof, and twisted to the side with the broken piece of the door. She was greeted by the sight of a thick vine the size of a large tree trunk.

"What on Azeroth is that?!"

She looked down at Shadow's Edge and sighed. An axe is an axe. She began the slow process of chopping down the vine.
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#3
The quillboar battlemaster surveyed the scene ahead of him. He grunted loud and long. Several other's began to take up the cry of attack. The half man had done a good job clogging the arteries of the buildings. He could see the vines had started to push their way out of the buildings. They would be victorious by the time the sun rose at this rate. Over the past year things had gone very well against the cows and bulls. One more tribe would be an easy feat. He began to bang his heavy ax against his shield and his troops took up the beat. Intimidate the enemy. That's how he was taught. He had painted his tusks red to signify the upcoming victory.

Ryak pointed the spyglass over at the racket that was the quillboar army. "Not very subtle."

The gnome shook his head. "Not how I woulda done it, but I'm not a pig, either."


Rincewindy had made a sizable hole in the root that had him pinned down. He really wished that he knew a spell that would cause the vine to shrink. He was feeling light-headed and wasn't sure how much longer he could last. Normally he would just set fire to the root, but he didn't want to be the one responsible for causing any more damages to the guild hall. He paused in his pecking at the root with the knife...what was that noise? It started as a low thumping noise then increased in sound. They were under attack. He looked at the knife in his hand and cursed. They'd been betrayed again. His eyes began to burn brightly, and he couldn't stop the rage that was building inside. It was only just briefly before it happened that the mage realized what was happening...again.
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#4
He could feel the heat building up in him. He could hear the quillboars out in the valley. Thousands upon thousands. He saw, even the gnome and the human watching everything from a distance conspiring with each other. He could hear Mula down the hall and imagined her hacking away at the vines that were choking in the hallway and cutting off the arteries of the guild. Then the chopping from Mula's room stopped, and everything was deathly silent. There was a roar from up above. And then there were flames everywhere. The roof disappeared in a wave of fire. He shielded his eyes with his bony arm. The wave of heat went away, and he looked up into the pre-dawn sky. He caught just a glimpse of the tail of Deathwing, covered in plates and fire. He was screaming.

Rincewindy woke. Snuffletusk's head rested across his waist. He looked at the burnt out candle and then the roof. The bottle of ink had tipped onto the pages of the half finished book. He shook himself free of the remnants of the dream....It had seemed so real.

The word came just a breath on his lips..."Anya."
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