Grentgore

[Grentgore]

Chapter 1

"Gid dat ash!"

"Dis ash?"

"NUB! Nub dat ash, dis ash"

"Uh... Uki..."

"Dun' Drup dat! Dat mure shineez den' yur life!"

"... Uh... uh oh! Gwaahh... Surry dad..."

"Grent, yu clumbzy fuul!"

Grent, peon of Orgrimmar... only 8 or so years old... His father owns a small shop selling various goods.

His father, himself was a blacksmith, making various items of ... no worth... He was not very good and hardly sold a thing.

He has dreamed about leaving Orgrimmar, like the big boys of the town. Shiney armor, big weapons, and

always laughing about their recent exploits or big monster slayed. When will he be able to do that? Leave his

fathers junk of a shop and be somebody, not just a peon working for his father for little to no pay.

"Grent, gu ged sum mure tingz fur me, yuu kan find gud tingz at auctun huwsz"

"Uki der Papa..."

"Grent, dunt skrew ub!"

Grent's father hands him a small sheet of paper, with a few lines of words on it, and a small pouch of money.

" fuur barz uf iron"

"dree barz uf tin"

"sebun ... Gwahh... dis sukz... Why Grent wurk wurk fur nutin!"

"Bekuz if yu dunt, me klomp yu!"

"Gaah... "

In order to purchase some items for his father, he had to travel across town to the Auction House.

There has been some ruckus in town for a little over a week now. Thrall has become pestered with

the Night elves in Ashenvale, and the battle for Warsong Gulch has been dragged on for way too long.

"Eberyone! Thrall comming!" Yelled an Orc, not much larger than Grent.

Whispers were heared all around the Valley of Strength, then silence, as the Warchief walked down from the Valley of Honor. Everyone that could see Thrall stopped, saluted, and then gathered around him, for he was about to announce a great attack. Grent, trying not to get trampled, started to run backwards, and bumped right in to a Tauren.

"HEY! Watch it, Peon! Do you not know who I am, clumsy Orc?"

"Uhh.. nub"

The Tauren sighed, and then spoke,

"I am Stone Guard Bombastian, of Clan Skullcrusher, and I care not for your name, Peon!"

The sheer size of this Tauren scared Grent, not even seeing the large Greatsword slung across his back.

This Tauren, Bombastian, had the largest, spikiest, shiniest armor he has ever seen. Covering his chest, there was a tabard, a crimson one, with a big cracked skull in the center.

"Uhh... Surry der!"

Bombastian shot him a dirty look, and then gathered with others showing their crimson skull tabard, ready for Thralls speech.

Thralls crier, a tall, lanky Troll, spoke first.

"Pay close attention... ... ..."

Grent tuned out, not even caring much for this outrage taking up his life.

"Sum pushdug Olog... Gwahh... me hab wurk t'du"

The crier went on, and soon, Thrall spoke.

"My brothers, friends, ... Forsaken, I have come to ann... ... ...

Grent tuned out again... Probably another stupid announcement about some new Guild or enemy Threat overseas... Even Forsaken have come to listen in on this... Grent did not care much for this, and continued on to the Auction House, awaiting for the Auctioneers to come back from the Speech.

" ... we must strike now! Warriors, Warlocks, or anyone who can hold up a sword, prepare ... ..."

" We will win this, once and for all! No more will these Night Elves destroy our caravans, our villages, or slay our people!"

The crowd cheered, clapped, and otherwise screamed for Thrall, our Warchief. Finally, he thought... Now, he can get to work buying these things for his father, before he grows angry.

"Fuur barz uf Iron, Dree barz uf Tin, ..."

Grent went down the list, the Auctioneer finding each, and receiving the payment for each, until he got to one item - 20 bars of Copper. Such a low grade item that he could not find anyone selling such items in the Auction House. Grent hurried back to his fathers shop, and explained both his late return and the missing items.

" Dad, me nub kan get Copper, nub any at Aucton Huwsz!"

"Grent, nub unly lat be late, but nub bring tingz me wunt! Ghwaaahh!"

" Du lat nub knuw nutin' Grent? Gu bring me Cupper! Lat knuw huw t'mine fur dem! Lazy Orc!"

... "Great, mur wurk fer Grent," He thought.

Grent was not the greatest at finding minerals, nor was he good at mining them, but, he was, at the least, able to chip a few pieces of Copper out, and perhaps smelt it without smelting his hands off.

*End, Stay tuned for Chapter 2*

Im almost done part 2...

Edited March 23, 2006 by Grentgore

[Grentgore]

Chapter 2

Grent spent half an hour running around the mountains of Durotar, chipping out ore, and running from monsters. He may not be large, but he was fast enough to outrun most of the monsters in Durotar, with the exception of ... coyotes.

"Dree... dree mur' barz uf Copper..." he thought, running to the next node.

Finally getting to the node, he raised his pick, but before he could slam it down on the rock, a Coyote jumped at him, and bit his arm.

"Gwahh...!" he yelled, writhing in pain, while grabbing his pick.

Taking the pick, he raised it, and took a wild swing at the beast. Being not strong, nor fast, he missed completely. The coyote bit again, this time gnawing his foot, trying to bite through the thick leather he wore. Grent swung again, this time striking the beast right in the left ribs. the coyote shreaked, and then bit the arm holding the pick. Grent let go of the pick, and then backed up, his head hitting the mountainside. Looking around in both fright and bloodlust, Grent charged the beast, and started to beat it with his bare hands. Suddenly, a flash of dark went past Grents tired eyes. A rogue, forsaken, appeared right behind the coyote and stabbed it hard in the... ehh... you know... the coyote shreaked again, and then fell over, blood spewing on to the floor.

Sighing, trying to catch his breath, he thanked the lady...

"Dabu der, me tink meh beh Ghuukbait fer shure..."

The lady howled in laughter, and then raised her dagger, ready to strike.

"Stop!" yelled a Tauren, grabbing her hand, and tossing it down. Grent searched his memory, trying to think if where he knows this Tauren from.

... ! Bombastian, the tall moose-of a Tauren he saw yesterday.

"Why can't I, for once, be allowed to kill anything decent?" the lady said, with a sad look on her face.

"Vidaliaz, is that all you know? Kill this, stab that, I own you, I own that?" replied Bomb, clearly unimpressed by her behavior. "Go, now, go kill somthing, or whatever you do for fun..."

Bombastian shooed away "Vidaliaz" , which Grent assumed was her name, and then spoke to him.

"Sorry, that is Vidaliaz, a Rogue in training. I am trying to get her head straight, but those Forsaken..."

"Heh, yub, dem nub bery nice t'dem green skinned latz..."

"Nah, they are only foul if you give them a reason to be!" Bombastian exclaimed, then spoke again, "I saw you fighting there, you got some good moves there... but too bad your ass got smoked..."

Grent sighed at the Tauren, looking both embarrassed and mad.

"You call yourself a Warrior?" the Tauren spoke again, mocking the wee Orc...

" Me nub War..."

" I mean, look at that posture, the way you swing, and even your armor!" Bombastian chuckled, not even letting Grent speak.

"NUB, Me nub Warrior! Me jus' lazy peon uf Orgrimmar!"

"... Oh... that explains a bit... if that is the case, I am actually quite impressed. For a peon you sure know how to strike... How about this... I see potential in you, come with me."

The Tauren paced off, beckoning Grent to follow. He found another Coyote, and taught Grent the basic Battle Stance. Hours have gone by and Grent finally got the hang of "Heroic Striking" a target.

"Yes, there you go, come DOWN on the target, and only lift when your blade hits the ground. Yes, like that..."

It was already nightfall, and Grent had just remembered about his assigned chores, and the Copper bars...

"Uh-oh... me hab tu'leebe ... Papa must be angrie fer nub bringin' dah Copper barz...!"

"Oh, is that so? Take these bars, and hurry back then... I have taught you all you can learn at this point, seek out a trainer when you are bigger...

We will meet again sometime... farewell."

"Gugye..."

The young orc dashed for his fathers house, to find him angry as ever... bottles were smashed, weapons were speared against the wall, and his father looked as if he were crazy.

"WHI WERE LAT LATE? Ober Dree huurz aguh, yu' were suppuzta be 'ere..! An' Where iz mah Copper barz?"

" 'ere dey be..." Grentgore sighed, as he handed over a large bag full of ore."

"Dere be like... Fiftie barz 'ere... Where latz get deze?"

" Me meet Bull Wurriur... he teech me t'be Wurriur tuu..! Den he gibz me deze barz!"

Speechless, Grents father stares at him... then speaks.

"Wurriur? Lurnin'? Hah! Me nub believe yuh! Shuw me deze Wurriur skillz uf latz!"

Grent took out his axe, positioned a table with a thick brick on it, and raised his axe high. He then cleaved down on it, breaking it in half, along with the table and leaving a small hole on the ground.

"Huwz dat fer lurnin, Papah?"

*Working on Chapter 3, but for now, this is it..!*