BA Shared Topic: RP a Scene with your favourite Mount
I have chosen to write the story from my own Paladin’s perspective, first person. It’s not exactly a standard take on matters, but what’s fun about standard! I don’t Roleplay as such on Zal, but I do always bare his timeline and characteristics in mind, and can’t help imagining his progression as a story, as Blizzard intends I think. This is an adaptation of how I came to acquire my most treasured mount.
There was a crackling hiss as the swirling remnants of Kel’thuzad’s broken form evaporated into the air. His twisted cries of revenge and rebirth floated away, borne by the chill wind that blasted through the purged necropolis. There were a few moments silence, and then a ragged cheer went up from the assembled fighters. I collapsed to the floor, fumbling for the pouch of water at my belt. I lay there with my hooves folded clumsily under me, and drank my fill. Around me, my companions set about recovering from the fight. Several of our Mages and Warlocks were hurrying around the room, melting the last of the ice and freeing the unfortunate folks who had been entombed by the Lich’s wild spells. I rose to my feet, and the Light’s unending potential flickered through my fingers. Minor to major injuries across our band were sealed, including those of a Shaman who lay recumbent on the floor. I focused my attention on the prone figure, and Light burst up around him. The Draenei rose slowly, his spirit returned to his body and his open wounds knitting together. He bowed deeply before me, the pale blue light shining across his polished chain-mail armour and glinting off the complex goggles he wore.
‘Zal– I mean, Sir, thank you for bringing me back–’
I waved him off with a gauntleted hand and a smile, returning my shield to its strap across my back.
‘Never fear, Taaka. I don’t leave anyone behind.’
He grinned nervously, pulling off a traditional Argus salute. I smiled, registering the respect. Although he was young by Draenei standards, born in space near the end of our journey, he had been hand-trained by Farseer Nobundo himself, and was greatly respectful of old ways. The bustle around the large chamber stilled as a Mage opened a Portal. Through the shifting circle, Dalaran’s peaceful spires could be seen. As we walked towards it, Taaka laid a hand on my arm. His bright blue eyes were wide.
‘Seriously, let me make it up to you. Do you need anything repaired? Made? I’m very good with my Engineering, I’ve been training under Mr Brightbolt for a year now!’
I paused, a grin spreading across my face.
‘Sock Brightbolt? That old Gnome? I’m surprised he could tear himself away from his gadgets long enough to teach anyone!’
‘The very same sir! He set up a small workshop in Valiance Keep along with his wife Tink. We’ve been working on something special for a long time now!’
‘Have you now?’ I chuckled. Brightbolt was very clever, even by the high Gnomish standards of intelligence. A veritable wizard with machinery, responsible for the Ornate Spyglass somewhere in my bag, stamped with the Brightbolt mark.
‘Yes sir! Would you like to see? I have a workshop in Dalaran!’ Taaka chattered happily. I nodded slowly, and we passed through the portal. I experienced the slight loss of gravity and feeling like you were moving very fast and yet going nowhere that was associated with portal travel. I landed lightly in the Violet gate, where a severe looking human with her hair in a tight grey bun tapped me with a black stick.
‘Still got all your arms? Legs? Not missing any hair? Who’s the leader of the Argent Crusade?’
I stopped, and looked myself up and down. My tall, heavy frame glad in the glorious golden Redemption armour seemed completely intact. I ran a hand over my head, tracing the ridges of my forehead and the ceremonial top-knot of my hair. I looked up.
‘Tirion Fordring, with the close aid of our friend Darion Mograine and his dark companions.’ She gave me a look, but I merely gazed at her calmly.
‘Mind and body seemingly intact. Move along.’
She snorted something about ‘Righteous Paladins’ as I left. I stood outside, and listened as Taaka went through a similar check-up. He trotted out onto the street, and grinned when he saw me waiting. I gave him a faint smile. ‘So, where’s this workshop?’ I asked.
‘Down in the Magus Commerce Exchange. It’s not a big place, but there are amazing tools and resources there, and the Mecha-gnome Brassbolt will always sell me what I need at a reasonable price.’
‘He’s always given me the cold shoulder. Told me I don’t have the intelligence to use him,’ I said. ‘As if sitting up late cutting King’s Amber and delicately enchanting my gear could be done by a layman…’
Taaka gave a nervous chuckle, and led me down to his workshop. It was indeed a little on the small side, and looked as if it was well lived in. There were shelves full of books and scrolls, and a large item covered by a cloth leaned against the wall. A stack of spare Draenic totems were stacked in one corner, glowing faintly with the elemental lights. Taaka pulled a schematic off a shelf and laid it out on the table. It showed a long device, like a rod with two cylinders at either end, and lots of ornamentation. There were notes scrawled all over it in engineers shorthand, and the occasional Draenei phrase in tidy handwriting like ‘In progress’ and ‘To be purchased.’
‘Interesting,’ I said cautiously, fighting the urge to flip the paper over to see if it looked better upside down. ‘Some kind of Mace? Or a Gun for a Marksman? I have a friend who could make good use of a new Gun.’
Taaka shook his head excitedly, his facial tendrils curling in excitement. ‘Think bigger sir!’
‘A cannon?’ I said, scratching my head. He laughed properly this time, and lifted a box off a different shelf. The box was stamped with ‘K-3. For when not exploding violently counts.‘ He lifted a tube out of the case with a reverential expression on his face. ‘That looks like Elementium to me!’ I said, surprised. ‘That’s pretty expensive!’ Taaka muttered something about the Guild and Engineer’s grants, and removed the large sheet. It revealed a stunning machine, all gleaming gold and smooth blues. It reminded me strongly of the Chargers that my brother Paladins used, but they were not to my taste. In truth, I had never found a mount that suited me, my weight and size meant most creatures of Azeroth bore me with either a complaining spine, or my hooves brushed the dirt either side of them. This… this was a thing of beauty. Could it possibly be a form of transport? Whilst I stared, open mouthed, Taaka had taken the tube and bent over near the back. There was a few metallic clicks, a bang, and a flicker of blue light as he used a small burst of electricity to weld one part to another.
‘It’s complete sir. It’s not a weapon. Brightbolt christened it a ‘Chopper.’ I’d like you to have the proto-type, as my way of thanking you.’
‘Goodness… thank you! It’s just… amazing!’ I said, grinning widely. Taaka rolled it out onto the street, where passers by stopped to watch. I walked round it, still highly impressed. There on the front was the Alliance Lion, resplendent in polished gold. A proper seat covered in soft black Arctic Fur. And there at the back, the license-plate, PWN. It probably meant something to some of the younger guild members. I was dimly aware of Taaka saying ‘The casing is cast from Titansteel, and strengthened with Cobalt bolts. A frenzied Abomination couldn’t put a dent in that.’ He pointed at the seat and I swung my form over it. I felt my wide back sink luxuriously into the Arctic Fur, and my tail curled comfortably into the recess Taaka had thoughtfully designed. I rested my hooves on the metal, and following Taaka’s instructions, kicked the ‘pedal’ that was suspended near my left hoof. The Chopper roared into life, and I felt the buzz of power surge through it. Little dials, labelled in Draenic and Gnomish, span and calculated near my hands. I shot forward, steering by means of the two bars in-front of me, causing Horde and Alliance alike to leap for safety.
The wind whistled through my hair as Dalaran’s streets flashed past. There were snatches of sounds as I raced along, gasps and cheers. I blasted past the Silver Enclave, did a loop round the Eventide Fountain, thundered round the corner at the end of the road and past the Sunreaver’s Sanctuary. I tore up the first few steps to the Well and into the air, landing with a juddering crash next to Taaka, who was cheering. There didn’t appear to be a scratch on it. I got up, slightly unsteadily, and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Light be blessed, that thing is phenomenal Taaka!’ I exclaimed, shaking his hand. He smiled happily.