End Time – continued

Thunder sat crosslegged on the ground, focused on wiping his shield and sword with embersilk rags so he’d have something to do. Combat always enraged him and he found that keeping busy right after a fight helped his mind find balance. Well kept armor was easier to stay balanced in too. The sword had a few notches on the leading edge and scores on the flatside where the dragons had parried his cleaves – dragon nailcutters must be constructed from some magnificent steel indeed. His shield had a coating of soot on it along with assorted clawmarks and dents. Full repairs would have to wait until they reached a town with an armorer but for now his gear was serviceable enough. That was his gear though, his throat was hoarse and hurt like hell. 

Off to the side, Tacticus was sitting in tauren form with a shiny disc of metal on his knees and was scowling at his reflection. In his tauren form he was a committed vegetarian however when he shape changed to cat form his pallate… diversified. In cat form he was more of a humanitarian and in this last scuffle, he’d been a dragonitarian. On occassion he’d been a gnomeitarian too. That was no problem while he was in cat form but now that he was back in tauren form, his mouth was full of the taste of dragon buttock, which while still attached to the rest of the dragon didn’t taste all that good. He was trying to use a dagger to pick his teeth, but the combination of tauren hands (to stretch the definition), a long snout and recessed eyes made the task complicated.

Vishous was busy meting out punishment to the dragonkin. Her views on when punishment should be meted out were simple – when the punishee couldn’t fight back. It was because of her goblin stature – she couldn’t afford to pick fights with anything that was standing up as all the essential targets required her to be on tiptoe to reach. Also goblins were nearly as puntable as gnomes. So instead she just waited until someone else felled the opposition and then set about meteing out her share of the punishment as a whirling pint sized maelstrom of totems, ponytails and goblin nose. She stomped all over, well… clambered all over the dragonkin looting for loot. “Blasted spellplate again! Why must they always carry spell PLATE? Would it kill them to carry spell mail instead?”

“Looks like carrying spell plate killed them too…” remarked Thunder mildly.

“You know what I meant!”

From behind a large rock came the sound of priestly chanting, repeating the same brief phrase every one and a half seconds.

“Whash she uftho?” asked Tacticus, mouth still otherwise occupied with the protracted cleasing regimen.

“She’s casting mass dispel on her pants to clean them up” said Vishous.

“Mass dispel works on pants?”

“Yeah! It can remove anything”

“Can’t Sweet’s water elemental wash them for her?” asked Thunder, throat still hoarse.

“What? I know the most powerful spell in the world! Ever since I learnt that spell there has been no room in my mind for any other spell!” said Sweetnsticky indignantly

“But you can still conjure food” objected Vishous

“Well, I make an exception for cake” admitted Sweetnsticky

“What happened to your voice, Thunder?” asked Vishous

“My throat is buggered. I was yelling at the dragonkin every ten seconds because someone couldn’t be bothered to stop chain casting the-most-powerful-spell-in-the-world at those dragons long enough for me to get a few whacks in”

“I can’t help it. When we’re in a fight, it is almost the only spell that I can think of! And I feel cold too, I think I am getting hypothermia” said Sweet

“Don’t worry, its from overusing ice block. It will wear off in a few minutes”


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