For I has traveled far to reach this place, the place they call Ithariu's Cave located deep within the swamps where sorrow never rests, thus its name.
I has come on a personal quest, a task, desire or a motive some may say. I am here to find the one Emberal Whelping whom seek a companion by its side. This Whelping will be my final one, the very last one I need before I get the ultimate reward for seeking every part of this land, high and low, for companions and life-savers. My reward is named "Stinker", and you might imagine whom might deserve such a name, yes, she is a skunk.
She is all that this lone, hunters heart desire, for no lions nor wolfs can seem to melt this heart whom's swallowed into the darkness of my peoples race.
Yes, this Emberal Whelping will be mine to present, to receive my little, sweet Stinker. If only...
Before the Dark Elf a scene so horrible laid out for her as she arrived on her white riding talbuk. There was a young hunter, carelessly slaying all in his path. And he had seemed to find a liking in the green whelpings. He reminded more of a zombie then a dwarf, might he be turning undead?
I have to act, I can not let him kill those whelping. For how am I to present one to become my companion when a zombie killing hunter stand right next to me, killing the whelping friends or family! For he does not listen to me, whom might he listen too then? I have to put an end to this, right now!
A plate hand, pointing its one finger forward slowly started to move downwards towards the menu, finding its target; Contact a GM. Swift fingers playing across the keyboard leaving a rather odd message;
Oh please holy GM's, grant me this one simple request of assistance in my time of grief and despair. There is a zombie, dwarf hunter bot by the name "Arafnb" at the Swamp of Sorrow - Ithariu's Cave whom's killing all the small, sweet and cute whelps whom I am on a grand quest to befriend and companion'ish. Will you, oh holy GM, do me this one favor, and remove this horrible sight from my eyes? I will sacrifice myself in the elevator of Scryers Tire as gratitude! These are my prayers, oh holy GMs!
I do hope they will answer to my prayers, if not I must take actions on my own hands, and it will not be a pretty sight then!
The minutes turned into hours and the hours turned into days, the dark elf became more and more distressed until she was too depressed and hungry to take no other actions then heart stoning back home to Dalaran where she spent a good month in the psychical ward along with a Tauren whom trough he was a dog.
Yes my readers, this is how the story will end.
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