I don't own anything I may reference.
I will be putting a preview of a random passage from later in the fanfic at the beginning of each chapter.
In her room, Tyrande could feel her stomach rumbling. She had a secret guilty pleasure of steak, even with all of her radically environmental tendencies. looking in the motel phone listing she finally found Pizza Hut.
"One large steak pizza, please," she said frantically into the phone's mouthpiece.
15 minutes later
Twitching ever so slightly, Tyrande knew that if she didn't get her steak soon, she'd go completely insane. Just when she thought she couldn't go any longer, she heard a knock at the door. She ran at full tilt towards the door, ripped it off its hinges in an adrenalin-fueled frenzy, and grabbed the pizza. She was just about to close the door (forgetting it wasn't attached to its hinges) when she noticed...
"Malfurion? When'd you get a job at Pizza Hut?"
"Uh, I'm trying to pay off the thousands of years of online game subscription fees that racked up during when I was in the Emerald Dream," Malfurion answered sheepishly.
Rolling her eyes, Tyrande answered, " Okay, whatever, just come in."
Meanwhile, in Gelbin's room
"Okay... I'm in!" Gelbin said, an exhilarated grin on his face, sitting in front of a desk with a keyboard connected to a wall-sized computer screen with Varian, Vol'jin, Thrall, Cairne, Magni, and Lor'themar sitting behind him. He had just hacked into the motel's security cameras.
"So, who do we spy on first?" muttered Gelbin to himself, then tapped a few keys, connecting to the feed from Tyrande's room.
"Ewwww..." everyone in the room muttered, taking an unconscious step back. Then Gelbin asked the room at large, "Okay, are they kissing, or eating each other's tongues?" Then, zooming in on the pizza box, he asked, "Hey, wait a minute, is that a steak pizza?"
"Stormwind noobs! I'll be back to listen to your pathetic begging in a couple of hours. I have to get going to the Blizzard Emergency Cataclysm Reassignment meeting right now," said Varian Wrynn, king of the human city of Stormwind. He was sitting on his throne in Stormwind Keep, with his son Anduin standing next to him, with a line of noobs standing in front of him. Standing up, he asked Anduin, "Can you deal with these noobs for a few hours? I really have to go."
Smirking, Anduin said, " Sure," then turning to the line of people, he yelled, "Get the hell out of Stormwind Keep before I call an army of gnomes with flamethrowers and death rays!" And that pretty much cleared out the room in about ten seconds.
Then, after a proud smile, Varian walked out of Stormwind Keep all the way to the CSET ( Central Stormwind Earth Teleporter (prounounced SEE-set)) in the Trade District. As soon as Varian stepped through the portal, he felt like he'd eaten some of Velen's "eco- friendly earth cookies", because his vision blurred and colors swirled in front of him, and he felt a massive sugar rush. And when he landed he felt like he'd just fell from 80 feet onto a cube of gelatin.
/cast Sanity/Humor Meter
OK, I apologize, that sanity is like 20,000,000,000x more than it should, and I need to up that humor at least 1.276%.
I'll fix it, I promise!
Seeing another leader of the Alliance, Magni Bronzebeard, Varian held his hand out to shake, and said, "Hello, Magni." Magni responded by hitting Varian soundly on the head with one of his hammers.
"An' tha's fer bein' th' only racial leader Blizzard gave a unique model ta," Magni muttered.
Pausing only to think "Dwarves!", Varian looked around to see if any other leaders had arrived. When he saw no one, he turned to Magni and asked, "So, how's Gelbin doing?"
"Och, ye know, he's a gnome, said he didn't trus' the 'unreliable mage portals", tried ta constuct his own "spatial temporal-matter distorter or some crud like tha'."
As if on cue, a silver open cylinder shimmered into existence about five feet away.
"Ah, here I am," said a small creature inside the contraption. The creature was High Tinker Gelbin Mekkatorque, King of the Gnomes. There was just one small difference from normal. He was still about three-and-a-half feet tall (nothing new), but was covered in brown fur, with hooves and horns. He had become a teeny-tiny tauren... with a hot pink mohawk. He looked at himself, then a pad of paper.
"Oh.. no. Not again... I forgot to carry the one."
Then Varian asked, "Again? Wait, isn't this just like the time...?" But Magni cut in, "Nae, I believe it's more like th' time-"
"You SWORE you would never speak of that again!" Gelbin suddenly yelled.
Then, suddenly, Cairne Bloodhoof, Thrall, and Vol'jin phased into existence out of nowhere. Glancing at Gelbin, Cairne pumped his hands in the air and yelled, "YES! Mohawked tauren! I win! Pay up!"
"Ya, mon," Vol'jin said, rolling his eyes, "I know how much I be owin' ya." Looking over at Gelbin, he continued, "Hey, mon, isn't dis just like da time dat-"
"You SWORE! You swore you would never speak of that again!" Gelbin exploded.
As Vol'jin took about 250 gold from his pocket, Gelbin exasperatedly asked, "You were honestly betting on what would happen when I went through my teleporter?"
"We had a betting pool," Thall explained, pulling a coin pouch from his bag, "I bet that your head would grow out of-"
"And I bet ya arms would come outa ya ears," interrupted Vol'jin, leaving everyone with no doubt as to where Thrall thought Gelbin's head would grow out of.
Then, appearing in a purple haze, night elven high priestess Tyrande Whisperwind came into existence, arguing with thin air.
"I'll only say this once, Goblin Emissary Blastbolt, we will not accept your request for an alliance until you fix your mistake of using explosives and burning gunpowder that are releasing pollutants and carbon dioxide that are poisoning the earth, incinerating the ozone layer, and dooming all of Azeroth!"
Then, realizing how foolish she looked, she shut up, ducked away, and blushed. Or at least her cheeks turned a more reddish form of purple.
Suddenly an arrow whistled past Gelbin's head, which caused everyone to turn.
"Sheesh, can't an undead high elf who also just so happens to rule an awesome Horde race and has so much skill in archery she can shoot an arrow close enough to someone's head to trim their hair without so much as a scratch to the target get any attention around here?'
"When did you shoot an arrow so close to someone's head you trimmed their hair without a scratch?" asked Gelbin.
"Right now," Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen, replied, nocking back an arrow, and using it to cut off Gelbin's mohawk. Glancing at Gelbin, then Cairne, she asked, "So, how much do I owe you?"
After Cairne muttered, "250G,"(G standing for gold), Sylvanas reached into a coin bag, pulled her hand out empty, clenched it into a fist, and punched Cairne in the face, whispering into his ear , "You get nothing," just audibly enough for everyone to hear.
Just about then, looking as if he had just randomly walked in, with a blank look on his face, the draenei Great Prophet Velen appeared, wearing tie-dyed robes, a peace sign necklace, and lava lamp glasses. No, I am not kidding, he had two small, quarter-inch-thick, inch-and-a-half diameter cylindrical lava lamps attached to a wire frame and made into a pair of glasses
"Dude, this is like, totally like the time that... oh, dude, I'm sorry, dude, I forgot, I know, sensitive subject," Velen said, gesturing wildly at Gelbin, then apologetically shrugging.
Gelbin shook his head wildly, making odd gurgling sounds, but being thankful, at least, that he didn't still have his afro. The last time Gelbin had seen Velen, a raccoon, three bird families, and Gelbin's second cousin had been able to coexist peacefully in Velen's hair.
After an uncomfortable twenty seconds or so, Cairne broke the silence, saying, "Okay, I'll give 3:1 odds that when blood elf boy finally arrives, he'll be riding a pink or purple hawkstrider because he teleported five miles off target."
Smirking broadly, though still a mini-tauren, Gelbin asked, "What kind of odds would you give that Lor'themar is going to ride through the portal in exactly the right location, riding a Mechano-Hog, wearing a red Horde-symbol sleeveless T-shirt and leather jacket, looking so unbelievably awesome that it seems like the world's in slow-mo?"
Rolling his eyes, Cairne said, "You gnomes and your imaginations... That would never happen, zero chance, I will give you 10,000:1 odds on that."
"Sure thing. 20kG?"
Less than a second after Cairne nodded, Lor'Themar Theron, Regent Lord of Quel'Thalas burst into existence in exactly the right location, riding a Mechano-Hog, wearing a leather jacket and a red sleeveless T-shirt with a Horde-symbol logo, looking so indecribably awesome that the world seemed to be in slow motion.
"Heh," Cairne said, sheepishly, "so, um, twenty mil?"
Gelbin rolled his eyes, "It's 200 million, now give me my gold."
Grumpy, Cairne handed over a slip of paper.
"I don't take checks!" Gelbin said, miffed.
"It's not a check!" Cairne said, indignantly, "It's a voucher from the First National Bank of Stormwind, I have an account there." While the Alliance leaders gaped, Cairne whipped out a cell phone and began talking into it superfast.
"I need to transfer 200 mil from my offshore Booty Bay bank account to the First National Bank of Stormwind ASAP. It has to be transferred now, if not sooner."
Magni was the first one to shake from his stunned stupor, swearing fluently as only a dwarf could.
"How th' boody hell did ye get an account in the First National Bank of Stormwind? Ye're a bloody Horde!" He punctuated this by hitting Cairne over the head with a hammer. In response, Cairne scratched his head and smiling just a little, said "But we all have accounts there! Me, Thrall and Vol'jin, Lor'themar, and Sylvanas, every single one of have accounts there. Why in Azeroth wouldn't we?"
As if just to make everyone pay attention to him, Lor'Themar punched Cairne in the gut, audibly whispered, "You get nothing," and used his shotgun crossbow to fire seven flaming bolts into the air.
Almost imperceptibly rolling her eyes, Sylvanas fired seven arrow in the air in about three point four seconds, one at each bolt. As each hit, it instantly extinguished the fire as a sheath of ice spread across it.
All 10 leaders listened as seven bolts covered in ice crashed to earth and shattered into hundreds of glittering shards of ice and wood. Lor'Themar and Sylvanas glared at each other for a full ten seconds, and then they both laughed.
"There was a reason, when I still lived, that I was Ranger-General and you were my second-in-command," Sylvanas said with the barest of smirks on her face, "And-"
"Yeh, yeh, we ge' it, ye're th' supreme archer o' th' universe," Magni said, hitting Sylvanas and Lor'Themar over the head with his hammers.
"Dude," Velen said unsophisticatedly, "like, chill out, you can't just keep, like, smashing people with your hammer." His eyes were unfocused, orange, and distorted through his glasses.
"Och, ye bonny boy, I cannae hit people wi' me hammers? Well, here's wha' I think o' ye!" Magni yelled, smashing Velen over the head with his hammers. Both at once. As Velen slumped over, drooling, all eyes turned to Varian, who had let out a bloodcurdling scream.
His eyes changed, from kind to cruel, gentle to angry. He changed from Varian, gentle ruler of Stormwind and kind diplomat, to the ruthless gladiator Lo'Gosh. With no memory, Varian found in a swamp by an orcish gladitorial caravan. He had fought off a twenty-foot crocolisk using nothing but a stick, which was why the caravan had even taken him, and renamed him "Lo'Gosh" which was Taur-ahe for "Ghost Wolf".
Sceaming in guttural Orcish, Lo'Gosh charged at Thrall, his sword Shalamayne drawn. When a particularly crude and guttural war cry came, all the Alliance turned to Vol'jin and Cairne and asked, "What did he just say?"
"Varian just said dat Thrall should dive in a poola acid and die meltin'," Vol'jin said, a little grossed out.
"And what's with Varian? He went totally insane.." Tyrande commented.
"Don't you read the memos?" Gelbin asked, scoffing and looking incredulously at Tyrande. "Didn't you care at all about the story of Lo'gosh? Let's just say Varian has.. multiple personality disorder... and he will randomly switch between the paragon of all warriors and a total wimp."
Thrall dodged and ducked and weaved, having no blow dealt to him, but unable to deal any blows. After one more horrible battle cry, Lo'Gosh slashed Thrall's arm. It would have been useless if he had been wearing his usual black plate armor, inherited from Orgrim Doomhammer, but he had left the armor in Azeroth, as he hadn't anticipated battle, and he was wearing robes. Special robes as a matter of fact, ones he'd had specially made from frostweave cloth, decorated with a pattern of an ice-storm, a blizzard, specially for Blizzard meetings. It had cost him a massive amount of gold, and now the arm was slashed. Thrall began twitching, then yelled so loud, it shook the ground, saying "BURN IN MY THUNDER!"
Somewhat off-topic, Velen asked, "So, like, dude, what was that last, like, war cry?"
Cairne scratched his chin thoughtfully, "I am not sure I can say it in your language. Is there an English obscenity meaning "feces"?"
Grinning widely, Gelbin answered, "Actually, we have several, Would you like to know the most common?"
"Absolutely," Cairne replied, raising an eyebrow.