A large black cat appeared out of nowhere in the front courtyard of the Guildhall, scattering pets and critters to the tops of tables and the depths of shrubbery. Bowstrings creaked as arrows were made ready. "Whoops! Sorry about that," the cat hollered into the ringing silence. "Hai everyone!" A cricket chirped. The cat suddenly burst into flame, singeing a brown patch into the grass at his feet before he could extinguish himself.
"Merps, this is not going exactly how I had planned. But look! I brought beer!" He rummaged through a worn, lumpy, voluminous backpack and hauled out a large keg of Thunder Bluff Porter, condensation beading on its sides. A crate of frosted mugs followed swiftly. "And food!" Diving back into the pack, the cat emerged with a massive haunch of roast centaur, steaming hot and smelling of sage smoke and garlic. He jammed a pike into the ground, spitted the roast, and artfully arranged a decorative border of baby carrots and steamed potatoes around it in a neat circle.
"Please help yourselves," he shouted, baring his teeth in a snaggletoothed grin. A faint, smoky tentacle emerged from somewhere on his back and waved gently until he slapped it out of existence. "Gah!"
A small brown bunny hopped quietly out from behind a bush, picked a carrot from the platter, and snuggled up against the cat's furry side to nibble on it. A baby clefthoof, a badger, four kittens, and a smoky bomb tottering around on tiny mechanical legs soon followed. Weapons were slowly lowered. Plates, hands, and mouths began to fill with the feast. When all was quiet again, the cat drained his mug, sat up straight, squared his shoulders, and formally addressed the assembled company.
"I hate change," he said around a large mouthful of meat, "but sometimes it is the best way forward. I've carried the standard of my guild for many years now. Once the halls rang with laughter and glowed with torchlight. Marching troops wore paths through the training fields and the forges were kept hot crafting equipment for war."
Tail flicking, he padded over to the keg and refilled his mug. "In recent years the guild hall has been empty and and the fires have been cold. I have kept the floors swept and the larder full but no one has come. With a new threat on the horizon I think the hour for change has finally arrived."
The cat stood and became a burly, black-furred Tauren with a gap-toothed smile. "We have some history, you and I. Time and again I have fought alongside all of you and have seen your dedication to defense of home and family." He thumped his chest. "These things are first in my heart as well."
He weighed a chipped and stained polearm in his hands, then stepped forward and set it on the ground in front of the Hall. "I offer my services, my skills, and my self to the needs of the Ironsong Tribe, if you would find use for them." Stepping back, he swatted another ghostly tentacle. "A terrible storm is coming to our world and I'd like to face it with friends at my side. I have been long alone in the forests and far from society, but I will come if you call." He bowed, flashed a grin, and vanished into the trees.
A faint shout echoed back to the fire, "Enjoy the rest of the keg!"
(edited for embiggening)
"Merps, this is not going exactly how I had planned. But look! I brought beer!" He rummaged through a worn, lumpy, voluminous backpack and hauled out a large keg of Thunder Bluff Porter, condensation beading on its sides. A crate of frosted mugs followed swiftly. "And food!" Diving back into the pack, the cat emerged with a massive haunch of roast centaur, steaming hot and smelling of sage smoke and garlic. He jammed a pike into the ground, spitted the roast, and artfully arranged a decorative border of baby carrots and steamed potatoes around it in a neat circle.
"Please help yourselves," he shouted, baring his teeth in a snaggletoothed grin. A faint, smoky tentacle emerged from somewhere on his back and waved gently until he slapped it out of existence. "Gah!"
A small brown bunny hopped quietly out from behind a bush, picked a carrot from the platter, and snuggled up against the cat's furry side to nibble on it. A baby clefthoof, a badger, four kittens, and a smoky bomb tottering around on tiny mechanical legs soon followed. Weapons were slowly lowered. Plates, hands, and mouths began to fill with the feast. When all was quiet again, the cat drained his mug, sat up straight, squared his shoulders, and formally addressed the assembled company.
"I hate change," he said around a large mouthful of meat, "but sometimes it is the best way forward. I've carried the standard of my guild for many years now. Once the halls rang with laughter and glowed with torchlight. Marching troops wore paths through the training fields and the forges were kept hot crafting equipment for war."
Tail flicking, he padded over to the keg and refilled his mug. "In recent years the guild hall has been empty and and the fires have been cold. I have kept the floors swept and the larder full but no one has come. With a new threat on the horizon I think the hour for change has finally arrived."
The cat stood and became a burly, black-furred Tauren with a gap-toothed smile. "We have some history, you and I. Time and again I have fought alongside all of you and have seen your dedication to defense of home and family." He thumped his chest. "These things are first in my heart as well."
He weighed a chipped and stained polearm in his hands, then stepped forward and set it on the ground in front of the Hall. "I offer my services, my skills, and my self to the needs of the Ironsong Tribe, if you would find use for them." Stepping back, he swatted another ghostly tentacle. "A terrible storm is coming to our world and I'd like to face it with friends at my side. I have been long alone in the forests and far from society, but I will come if you call." He bowed, flashed a grin, and vanished into the trees.
A faint shout echoed back to the fire, "Enjoy the rest of the keg!"
(edited for embiggening)
Nganga Nyeusi
He is fast and is the danger.
What's a dazzling urbanite like you doing in a rustic setting like this?
He is fast and is the danger.
What's a dazzling urbanite like you doing in a rustic setting like this?