Story Time: Next Morning

Guarf held the steaming mug of honeymint tea under Lupe’s nose. “Oh, what a sour expression that stunning girl could make, when hung-over and irritable!” Guarf laughed to himself. Contrasting the two sisters, Matty never looked as bratty as Lupe did just now. (He had no idea what Zep would look like in the morning, afternoon, or otherwise. All he knew of her was she lived almost as a cloistered servant of Elune, virginal and pure.)
“Bugger off, you old fart!” Lupe grumbled, pulling the blankets over her horns, and kicking over a side table with her big hooves. (She was still working on her presence and power: “Like a damn bull in a damn china shop!” thought Guarf.)
“Aye, little girl, I won’t bug you, but this tea will help quiet those goblins setting up shop in your skull—it does soothe the hammering, ya sassy little pine-nut…”
These draenei girls became slightly bitchy when they tried to keep up with the dwarfs. He knew this was not the occasion to be sanctimonious or lecture her on trying to replace one’s pints of blood with pints of Dwarven stout.
The morning was foggy, grey, and impermeable to the tea, the fire, and the tasks ahead. Nothing for it but a good breakfast, or two, a pipe smoke, and some rest.
Writer’s Note: I use Guarf has a “lent character,” or persona-on-loan. Guarf, or the human behind Guarf, has nothing to do with this narrative other than indulge me as a fanfic writer. 


Luperci reaches Level 85: and toxicity levels are a bit high, too

Dearest Matty–Oh, I know, I need to be reserved, but am overcome! I am ready, Mat, ready! To assist your comrades in battle, against any monster, fiend, or foe! The last few adventures were so incredible, I feel I could take on Deathwing himself and teach him some manners! Shadow of fire and death?! Bah! Oh, I am re-reading this and seeing how many “!s” I wrote–father always hated that trait in girls’ writing…but you can tell, I am so happy! Instead of saving the gold, I went on a shopping spree. Got rid of those silly pig-tails. I had the boots you sent, thank YOU! — and the wrist bands, too, but blew the rest on gems, and other shiny plate things-it’s only gold, right? We can make more; we’re smart girls, eh? Guarf, that old grump, told me I didn’t socket the gems correctly, that I needed only mastery, which I knew, I knew, but my head was a bit foggy from some Dwarven stout…I can see why you love those Wildhammers so much, my dear sister – they are wonderful. They can talk me into anything, those dwarfs. I jumped off of an air ship with a bolt of cloth just for Fanny’s wedding dress–she was beautiful. Stout like their ale, but beautiful nonetheless.  I wonder what it’s like to be in love–do you know? I saw your friend the other day–he looked well, but a bit tired? In any case, your baby sister is all grown up!!! I am posting this straight away before I sober up and come to my senses- just needed a break from being all holy-moly righteous-ly training. You of all people understand. –Love you, my sweet, stupid, big sister! Lupe

Postscript: Have you heard from Zep? 

“Ah,” Matty mused: “This is not a young woman in need or want of any advice.” Mat smiled at her sister’s uncharacteristic exuberance.

She folded the letter carefully and put it in a journal that a small goblin girl named Chamuca gave her as a token of appreciation for a discreet favor.

“Hm..she saw my friend? Which friend?” Matty twisted her lips into a little knot, just a little bit, and if the baby bear wasn’t noticing, no one noticed.

Chamuca, the goblin girl, she hadn’t seen in a troll’s age. She was worried about Chamuca, but she wasn’t worried about her sister. Her sister: as stubborn as an ogre, as confident as a bride, and as self-assured as a gnome death knight.

“But Luperci, my baby girl, you have much to learn.”