Friday, November 19, 2010

Crashing the Mage Party

Fulguralis shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked around the table. They were in the back room of a tavern in Dalaran, seated in a circle, staring blankly across a table at one another. Decedereful was to his left.  Thank the Light for his sister!  If she weren't here, Fulguralis was pretty sure he might have run screaming the second he entered the room.  Next to his Death Knight sister was the curious Mr. Wow.  He was human now, and that baffled Fulguralis.  The Warlock could see shallow scars crisscrossing the boy's - he was rather youthful - skin.  When his sister had introduced him, Fulguralis had almost spit his ale all over the tavern wall.  He was expecting big teeth and a muzzle, but what he got was a rather handsome young man.  Despite the scarring, of course.

Fulguralis had wanted to speak up right then, but something in the boy's eyes made him stop.  There was no mistaking those eyes as the same ones that Fulguralis had looked into upon waking from his injured coma.  Those eyes had been pleading with him not to say anything.  Normally, a simple plea would not have stopped the Warlock from raining on someone's parade, but something gave him pause all the same.  Decedereful obviously cared for him.  Fulguralis could tell by the way his sister acted around him, but how fond was she?  Were they lovers already?  It would be a shame to have to kill the boy, especially after he'd been so helpful.  No, it was best to figure out this whole situation first before doing anything rash.  So Fulguralis held his tongue.

Abigora, his wife's cousin, sat on the other side of the table.  Her appearance had been a surprise to Fulguralis.  He had expected to find his sister, but not his cousin-in-law.  On her own, she wasn't a bad girl, just a bit odd.  However, the guests she had bought scared the living fel right out of the Warlock.

Melvin and Minerva Brightrune, parents of Faith Uthera Brightrune.  His wife.  His Fuubaar.  That had been quite a shock.  Abigora had been reluctant to spill the full story, but from what Fulguralis could gather, these two decaying Undead were his in-laws.  On one hand, it was a relief when his sister had told him that M Brightrune was not the signature of a lover, but of a father.  On the other hand, facing the father and his grotesquely hanging prominent jaw was quite another adventure.  One Fulguralis now found himself woefully unprepared to deal with.

He just wanted his wife back.  How did he explain losing her to her flipping parents?  This was just bloody amazing.  They already didn't like him - who likes a man with demonic minions who enjoys torturing small animals? - but lump on top of that that he obviously hadn't taken good care of their daughter - she was the Protector in the relationship! - and, well, you had one angry set of in-laws. 

So they sat.  Uncomfortably.  Staring.  Judging.  Making the Warlock sweat.

Fulguralis saw the bar maid approach from the other room.  Good, another ale wouldn't hurt.  The maid got two steps in the room before the aura of awkward hit her.  Her eyes widened, and she turned and hurried away.  Apparently the sense of an impending flame war amongst family discouraged even those who work for tips.  That, or the paltry coin wasn't worth the possibility of becoming a casualty.  Fulguralis frowned.  He was usually a good tipper.  Especially when drinking.

The warlock sighed and looked back across the table. "I told you, I don't remember what happened after getting sucked into that stupid sword," he repeated tiredly.

"Frostmourne," Melvin grated out through partially clenched teeth.  "You expect me to believe that you were instrumental in an assault on the Frozen Throne that resulted in the death of Arthas Menethil?  Boy, what have you been smoking?  My daughter, a Paladin, maybe.  A whole host of Paladins.  But a Warlock?  Warlocks don't do things like that."

"Actually, my brother's been involved in many of the recent successes here in Icecrown," Decedereful chimed in.  "Tirion has voiced praise for him several occasions."

"This from a Death Knight?" Melvin continued, eyes flashing.  "Like we can trust and of you guys."  He stood up.  "Come, Minnie, let's leave these scourge stooges."

"Like you're all that much better, Forsaken," Mr. Wow spoke up unexpectedly.  "Who do you believe was responsible for the tragedy of Bolivar Fordragon?"

"You dare accuse me, b-boy!" Melvin roared, spittle flying from his jowls.  His jaw dislodged itself, though the man continued to gurgle on unintelligibly.

"Melvin, honey," Minerva said soothingly, "calm down.  The boy has a point.  We're all a bit of a motley crew now, aren't we?  Besides, how is this helping our Faith?"  She handed him his jaw back.

The Captain sat back down, snapped his jaw into place, and glared daggers across the table.  Abigora watched with wide eyes, speechless.  She looked faintly green.  Decedereful flashed a thankful look to Mr. Wow, who returned a winning grin.  His sister blushed.  Well, as much as a Death Knight could anyways.  Fulguralis scowled.  This was not getting them anywhere.

He groaned inwardly when he saw the two shadows pop in across the room.  They were expected, yet unexpected.  The Felguard and the Succubus strode up to the table.  His bond with his minions warned Fulguralis of their approach, but he didn't know exactly why they were here.   There were limits to what could be shared across distances.

"Tim, Midnight," Fulguralis nodded.  "I don't believe I sent for you.  Why are you here?"

Melvin and Mr. Wow both gazed at the Succubus, their eyes unwittingly held by her demonic beauty.  She had that effect on men, Fulguralis had noticed, though his own bond apparently made him somewhat immune to her charms.  That, or she'd given up trying.  The boy gawked openly before Decedereful punched him in the arm, eliciting a grunt.  Minerva scowled at her husband who seemed stuck somewhere between arousal and revulsion.  Drool dripped down his cleft chin.  These were, apparently, not folks who were used to consorting with demons.

"Melvin, please," Minerva crowed.  "We've already eaten today."

"Did you try the Partially Decayed Roach Roast at Cantrips and Crows?" Decedereful offered.

Minerva looked a bit surprised, "Why yes, child, we did.  It was delectable.  Though... I could have done better.  It's all in the gravy, my dear."  Her husbands nose turned suddenly blue as she froze it with a quick spell, breaking the Midnight's hold on him.

"Erhm, thanks," The Captain muttered, scratching his nose and taking a deep swig of the brown liquid before him.

Tim the Felguard stepped up to his master.  "Sir, this is regarding the mission you sent me on. You see, I've found something."

Fulguralis waved a hand, "All right, out with it then."

"Is it wise, sir, to, um, share?"  Tim asked, looking pointedly at the other members of the table.

Midnight slapped him on the backside, "You heard the master, Timmy-boy.  Let 'em have it!"  She smiled mischievously.

Tim shrugged, "Well, sir, it appears I've found your wife."

"Where is she?" demanded The Captain.

"How?" prodded the sister-in-law.

"When did you see her last?" inquired the cousin.

"What did he say?" the partially decaying mother asked.

Each utterance was on top of the last.  Tim ignored them all, looking to his master for guidance.

"Is she all right?" the husband wanted to know. 

"Well, that depends on the manner in which you define all right," Tim replied cryptically.  "I suppose I should explain.  I was trouncing through the alleyways of Stormwind, when I cam across your lovely wife, sir.  I tailed her for a while to see what she was about.  She started proclaiming strange things before the guards of the fine city, and I felt I'd need photographic evidence for my story to be believed.  Fortunately, a Gnome was nearby, and you know how they always carry those tiny cameras at all times in case an elf with a short skirt walks by so as to be able to snap a...."

"Yes, yes, we know," Fulguralis interrupted.  "So you have a picture then?"

"I do indeed," Tim responded.  He gestured to Midnight, who gleefully tossed the picture into the middle of the table.  Everyone leaned in for a look:
Midnight cackled.  "Poor bugger's completely lost her marbles!"

Gasps were heard around the table.  Midnight continued her laughter until Fulguralis dismissed her with a wave of his hand.  Melvin's jaw was clenched shut, the remaining muscles looking as if they might pop off.  Abigora's eyes widened even further.  Fulguralis stood up. 

"Where do you think you're going, son?" the Captain asked.

"To get my wife," Fulguralis responded stoically.

Melvin nodded.  "Minerva, a portal!  Now!"

The old housewife slapped the table with her hand, and a shimmering circle appeared above it in the middle.  Fulguralis didn't wait to see if anyone else was following, he jumped on the table and ran through portal.  He was momentarily blinded as the light swallowed him, and then...

The Warlock popped out the other side and looked around.  The scene was chaotic.  Giant elementals raged on every street corner in sight.  The clash of steel and explosions of casting nearly drowned out the screaming.  Citizens were running around haphazardly, and the guards were too busy fighting to give any kind of direction.  Stormwind was under some sort of assault, but from who?

"Oh, how nice," Minerva said, being the last of the entire group to step through the portal.  "A mage party."

"I don't think this is a party, dear," Melvin said, stepping in front of his wife.  He pulled out his mace.  "Warlock, give me some cover."  He looked over at Fulguralis and stopped.

There was only a large purple demon in place of the man, and demon was on fire. "I've got this," it growled.


  1. Woo! I do enjoy the endings to your stories ~ they always make me grin! :)

  2. @Ron - Thanks. I wanted to incorporate the current events and it ended up being a bit longer than usual. Oh well :-).

    @Chawa - Thanks. That's what Fridays are for: grinning!