Friday, December 11, 2009

It's Tough Being An Alt

For once, the dining room table is populated by someone other than minions.  Fulguralis gazes at the faces around the small, circular wooden table in the house he shares with his Paladin wife.  His sister, Decedereful sits across from him, her frosty blue eyes appearing frustrated this morning as she picks absently some dry Flesh Flakes.  To his right, Fuubaar leans leisurely back in her chair, satisfied with the stack of fluffy pancakes she has just devoured.  Across from her, Abigora, the most recent addition to their little coven, sits quietly contemplating a worn tome.

Abigora was some sort of distant cousin of Fuubaar's that had just sort of shown up one day.  She didn't talk a whole lot and seemed to prefer spending most of her time nose-deep in a book.  Fulguralis had asked his wife about the new addition, but Fuubaar had simply and resolutely told the warlock that her cousin was staying with them, and that was the end of it.  Whatever the paladin had been told by the priest was in confidence, and creatures of the Light were loathe to break such sentimental bonds.  Though it frustrated Fulguralis, he knew better than to try and change his wife. 

"Well I feel great!  Better than I have in months!" Fulguralis exclaims, breaking the silence.

"Me too! How about you guys?"  Fuubaar adds. 

Decedereful scowls in response, "I feel about the same."  The death knight seems nonplussed by this whole line of conversation. 

Abigora lifts an eyebrow, keeping her eyes on her tome.  "I feel like singing more often, that's about it," she says simply.

Ignoring bland reactions of the two across the table, Fulguralis turns to his wife and says, "It's exciting isn't it?  I mean I picked up a couple new glyphs, dusted off the ole spell book, and am really feeling stronger.  Plus, we get to work alongside Jaina Proudmoore.  I mean, I don't normally care for mages, but she's got really big..." he holds his hands up, searching for the word. "Ouch!" Fulguralis rubs his side where he wife had just poked him rather roughly with the butt of her sword.

"You were saying, honey?" Fuubaar inquires sweetly.

"Just that she's really powerful.  Big spells, ya know?  Even a badass warlock such as myself has to respect that," Fulguralis shrugs.

"I'm sure that's what you were gawking at last night... her spells," Fuubaar chides.

"What?" Fulguralis asks a bit defensively.  "Oh.  Oooh.  You're jealous!  Ha!  I mean, don't worry, she's totally not my type, being a mage and all.  Plus, she's huge!  I mean have you seen how tall she is? It's freakish!" Fulguralis appeals to his sister for help.

"No, Boy, I haven't," Decedereful answers, clearly annoyed.  "Would you poke him again for me?"

"Ouch! What was that for?" Fulguralis yelps, rubbing his side.

"You've been out chipping away at that damned Lich King while I've been stuck here watching the damn house!" Decedereful grates in her tinny voice before standing up and stalking from the room.

"Man, what crawled up her butt and lived?" Fulguralis asks, bewildered. 

Fuubaar glares back at him, her mood having been soured once more by a blond.  Though she wouldn't admit it, being a creature of the Light and all, she had a deep seated hatred for blonds.  They just pushed all of her buttons.  She, too, stands up and leaves the room, ostensibly to look for her shield.

Fulguralis looks across the table at the book worm, "Geeze, her too.  Is this related to those fabled lunar cycles or something?"

Quietly shutting her book, Abigora stands up and leaves the room on silent feet.

"What did I say?" Fulguralis asks the empty room, standing.

Just then, the room shimmers in and out of focus, but Fulguralis appears not to notice this.  The warlock reaches out and puts one hand on the table as if to steady himself.  Somewhere, deep within the warlock's spell book, a subtle change is made. 

"Whoa, I just got light headed all of a sudden," he says, shrugging.  "Must have stood up too fast."

Walking out of his front door, he looks around for something to vent his recent frustration on.  On the path that runs by the warlocks house, a young hunter strolls by, pet in tow.  Unfortunately for the hunter, his pet suddenly chooses to go chasing after a squirrel, despite the pleas of it's master.  Also unfortunate for the hunter, the squirrel happens to be in the warlock's front lawn.  Fulguralis flicks a hand at the hunter's pet, instantly corrupting it's soul.  The rogue animal cringes and wilts like a flower, falling to the ground with a thud. 

"Hey man, what'd you do that for?!" The hunter sputters, helplessly looking at his dead companion.

"It's fun?" The warlock answers.  " Besides, your cat's been leaving droppings on my lawn lately."

Baffled the hunter replies, "But this is the first time I've been down this path!"

The warlock waves a hand, "Eh, you hunters all look the same to me."

"Well you didn't have to kill him like that!" The hunter yells.

Fulguralis thinks about it for a second, "You're right, I should have drawn it out more."

Disgusted, the hunter stalks away, wanting nothing more to do with the powerful warlock. 

Fulguralis walks over and examines the corpse left behind.  "Hmm.  The spell seemed stronger last night. Curious."  The warlock looks suspiciously at his surroundings as if some strange, unseen presence might be observing him.  "Curious, indeed..."

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