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[Home again]

Home again

A storm raged though booty bay almost typhoon level of wind and rain battered the small coastal port, lightning cracked the sky illuminating a small hut high in the scaffolded dwellings a hastily repaired roof, machinery parts strewn about the roof and leaning against walls.

BOOOM!!!

A crash of a door, one repaired one too many times flung open and off its hinges, flat into a wall opposite, it creaked and slid down till it clattered against the floor, A mechanical blurr burst though, its metal claws struggling to find purchase upon the ground, it slammed into the same wall that door had just done and howled a happy mechanical wail, spinning on the spot off into a burnt, chewed and heavily damaged corner of the hut and curled up to chew on some rebar, then followed by a equally eager if somewhat soaking wet young orc, nearly loosing his footing as he too barrelled in, spinning on his heel and happily yelling a loud sound of mirth and joy.

"HOoooOoooo'eeeeeeEEE!!
Man shitfire boss it done raining sideways! man its like dang old Teeeeeeeeeeee-rential, i tell you what!"

A low dishearted grumbled came from a small goblinoid figure sitting at it work bench, and it seemed to worked his powertools harder to emit a loud whirrling and drilling sound from them.

"GOOD TALK BOSS! That's what i likes bout ya!" The young orc said earnestly, he panted and smiled sub consioucly scratching the soft bearded fuzz growing on his cheeks.

"PA! hey PA!

Arkail! hey hey hey , you awake hey PA! its me BAMM, HEY!"  The young seemed to talking to the singular dark corner of the hut the shape of a bed with bundeled bedding upon it.

Another dishearted and almost defeated grumble came from the figure working at his bench and the keen of ear would swear the powertool's whine got louder as if to drown out any other... distratcion

A gnarled emaciatted thin clawed hand heavily tattooed reached from the bedding and from it followed the frail frame of orc, wild unkempt hair matted, near every inch of his skin now covered in runic tattoos, one eye half battle damaged close.  a rasped breath followed by a singular statement

"D---d---dala.... taught you know... ran ... i dalaran...sword, yes?"


The young orc cheered and jumped clicking his heels as he did, landing with an ungracefull thud bellowing loudly

"Yeah BLASTBLADE YEAH! i gots it right where you said .. left at the yes! past the i taught at dalaran! and then straight on past the have you seen my sword hmmm!"
the young orc produced a small collection of tomes and books of various types and subjects and placed them upon the bed. all except one which he thumbed though tilting his head left and right at it with excitement.

A tome labelled  "Demons: A bestiary grimore of the ilk of known included in the ranks of the burning legion and beyond" by Gashuk felhand

"Lookie here pa!" Bamm the young orc proclaimed. Lookie at this one here ha! looks like a dang ol dog wearing a octopus for a hat, a felhound?.... felllllll houuuuuund shitfire. Bamm showed the open tome to Arkail who only wheezed in repsonse a... yes

Bamm chuckled and plonked himself down on the bed reading the tome and examining it with great detail.

"These them thangs that ensalved us..... Hoooo'eee them thar sucubussis and incbusus?... Shitfire pa is it incubiisisss or incubussys? HA! Its incubi and sucubi! PA I dont reckon i'd mind none i tell you what" Bamm nudged and laughed loudly winking at Arkail as someone with little to know experience in such matters would. Arkail didnt in anyway respond, however the power tool noise did seem to suddenly get louder.


Arkail had been flicking though a thick iron bound tome the others he had discarded, its pages blank, untill he touched the page, a small runic tattoo inside his bicep glowy briefly, lettering would appear until his hand lifted from the page.

"Have you seeen... have you yes hmmm, in dalaran i sword... I yes taught in d...d...dalaran hmm Have you have you?" Arkail rambled, not so much looking at Bamm but though him.

Bamm chuckled and scratched his cheek again. "UH yeah sure pa you can say that again, i tell you what. But uh what if you 'sword' in 'didnt you know  yes, dalaran and taught?" Bamm's eyes flashed open and wide. for which arkail only rambled nonsense again.

Bamm smiled and briefly touched arkail's hand as he flicked though pages.

I gots ya pa. Boomer me and even Durashaft there will looks after ya! wont we

Boomer BOOFED a happy BOOF
Arkail cheered and clapped loudly.
The small goblinoid figured stoppped his work the tools falling it slient spining round in his chair...
"IT'S GEAROID DURASHAFT  you dang pup i tell you what man shiiitfire are you gonna do somethang useful i got this induction manifold to reconfigure and you got re submit your pattent for a non gryoscoptic copter to submit to the cartel by the end of month. get to work! and dang it boy how many time you gotta fix that door before you learn how to open one?"  Several goblin curses mainly involing somekind of suffering well though his curse came from the goblin before the power tools began to whine and whirr again.


"You gots it BOSS Bamm hooted" he smiled at Arkail, his head buried in a book. Bamm picked up the door and slammed it into place

The wind howled and rain battered the small scaffold hut high in Booty bay. But all was good and great in this moment

Evening was drawing in Booty bay the gulls where cawing on the evening sea breeze. The hustle and bustle of sailors, merchants, smugglers and pirates was drawing from the docks to the Tavern and small dwellings of the town. A top a wooden platform with rickety gangway planks sat a hastily built or rebuilt hut parts of a gyrocopter sticking halfway though its roof, echoing bangs a loud muffled "noise" coming from its interior.

STOMP STOMP STOMP!...... STOMP STOMP STOMP!

"Shitfire maaan i tell you what this is dang ol great i tell you what!"
Bamm proclaimed his voice imitating from inside a self made diving helmet as he stomped and marched around the workshop in heavy diving boots.

"Maaaan making it pump air into it as i walk was innnnssspired if id do say so myself i tell you what HooooooeeeeEEE!"
,
"GEAROID !! GEAROID, BOSS, BOSS, BOSS, BOSS, HEY CAN YOU HEAR ME? I SAID.."

A defeated sigh came from Gearoid the goblin. Bamm's mentor, teacher, friend, subject of abuse to his very presence and adoptive guardian from the time his mother left him there to go to sea.

Gearoid scuttled across the workshop to tinker with something, his metallic crab like legs clinking, his eyes glowing blue, his face palid green devoid of life.

"Bamm the ones that sleep in deep dark blue of the sea can hear you. Grrmm"

SHITFIRE! I could find them thar fellas with this helmet and say howdy! imagine meeting a deep dark fella.  AWESOME! I have been told i  am a very tall dark and handsome myself! hoooeeeeEEE! Imagine that Gearoid! Gearoid! can you hear me?

Another defeated sigh came from Gearoid as the goblin peered at the ceiling.

"Son dang it when, when are you gonna fix that thar roof! and.... another thing" Gearoid said pinching his nose with his one remaining flesh and bone hand it doesnt count when its your own mother who says your handso... shitffire you what it dont matter none... just, just fix the dang roof.

STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP!

"SURE THANG BOSS!
hey, hey boss what do you think of this i made it up as i was a walking here"

Bamm produced his banjo and began to play loudly in tune with his stomps of heavy diving boots, the helmet's viewing window only showing the briefest flash of a wide grin. Boomer vocalising with a metallic off key Awooo!

Letters home


HEYA GEAROID!!!!

How are y'all doing Boss?? Shitfire it been a while!

Its your favourite student BAMM, that is BAMM IRONSPARK!!!
Yep, i got me a creation name like you! Well sorta Orcs are different like y'all said buts we's the same in many thangs! They hunt for the their name y'all build it! SAME THANG! Y'all have cartels they gots clans. Soon as folk see our similarities rather than our differences man i tell you what we gonna get on real well like!?


Anywho what was i writing about oh YEAH!!
I am doing real swell like like, i gots some nice folk around me and we gets into all kinds of fun! Like that time me and you got stuck on the zepplin full of naked half burnt dwarves? That was some FUN i tell you what!  I am well treated, not paid, well they pay me in kindness and respo.. respsonso... repsonobilililites. i tell you what that's almost as shiny

Yeah SO i want thank ya for passing on my half of our royalties these last few months. I have done built me a Gryocopter! not from scratch persee i stole it from some 'romancers in Northrend, then i crashed it into a vrykul village there cause a talking dragon shot me and a pal down!..... SO MUCH FUN.. but yeah i done rebuilt it and can fly it real well now
I call it the JITTERBUG!

Love ya PAL always man shitfire!

your bestest student and friend BAMM <3

ps. Boomer says hi

HOWDY MA!

ITS YOUR SON BAMM!!!!!!!!! <3
OR SHOULD I SAY BAMM IRONSPARK!!

"What in fel tarnation i can hear you say?"

Well shitfire 'member how i told y'all before bout how these Red blade folk Arkail was telling me about to join and learn about Orc life and how y'all said it sounded like a good idea, but not to get too carried away? You remember dad right? well y'all said he was like real smart and charming and could talk his way into and outta more trouble than it was worth and spoke purdy like? Well he is nuttier than marmot shit now i tell you what.... rambling and raving nonsense. i am looking after him dont worry i am a good boy like you raised me to be!

Anyhow what was i saying? Oh yeah I am BAMM IRONSPARK now! I took part in a Om'riggor and i killed talbulk real smart like using a trap! I was naked as the day i was born at the time but that aint important. Yeah so i did that and gave me a name and i swore an oath to the demi gods they follow nice folk we had to go to the afterlife to rescue one recently he is nice!!

What was i saying oh yeah
Uh yeah i am adult now you're lil fella all grown up. I even started training in a part of the clan called Nag'ogar which is like the shield of the group. I am gonna protect them cause they my friends but its also like leadership and bringing hope in bad times and taking respsonibility for yourself and others conduct! You and gearoid always said that was important. So i doing as you taught me!

If ya see gearoid say howdy from his bestest student BAMM IRONSPARK. i hope his robo legs aintseizeing up too much!

How are things with y'all hope the captain is treating you right and y'all are sailing well and getting into fun adventures?

Making you proud i hopes
your ever loving son

BAMM IRONSPARK ! <3


p.s Boomer says hi!

[Keeping the faith]

Keeping the faith

Bamm had adjusted to his surroundings like he always did his mothers’s words in his head always ringing in his head.
“Dangit son with a good positive attitude nothing is impossible hope is best dang weapon we ever discovered I tell you what and will be strongest thing you ever forge”.

He awoke much the same as he had the last few days a single thought in his head. Hope.
He had noticed others in the camp where struggling especially those with spiritual inclinations or strong hopes for the perception of the afterlife. Bamm had reminded those that this was only one realm of possibility The big horned fella Sagewind had mentioned that and seemed genuine and those that where here wanted to be regardless of what side of what seemed to be an eternal civil war of death rebirth and conflict, he didn’t care much much it but tried to see what those that would find enjoyment in this place point of view.
He handed given his rations freely cracked jokes smiled and as always was hopeful, he had crafted a banner bearing the red blade sigil to remind those why they where here and who they where. He hoped it helped. He set out for a new morning in this place to see what was happening

He sauntered about the camp a happy dance to his step a happy song in his heart and mind Boomer followed it he swaying to the beat, he waved at a same creature chopping up parts who disregarded him for the most part “Choppa choppa?” The creature screeched at Bamm returned the greeting “Choppa choppa fella” with a wink and fingergun click. The creature look profoundly puzzled and returned to his work. He passed some red blade around the fire all peering silently into it and heart almost sank he waved howdy and loud happy “MOK’RA YA’LL!!”

Most gave him half smiles and a wave as he passed. They where good folk like that. He had to do something to cheer em up it was then he remember his early years at Sea with his mother and the songs the crew would sing in rough weather to boost their spirits. He began to try and hum one, maybe he could sing it for them! That's it a song! He thought. Music is food for the soul and what better place to do that in a world of souls! He let out a loud "HOOOOO’HAAAAA!" and jumped for the joy upper cutting the air and caused several of the scavenging creatures to scurry and flee. A song wouldnt be a enough he would need a instrument! But what could he play well and what could he create in this place. He rushed over to now vacant scavenger table and began creating a blueprint in his head as hands crafted a stringed instrument there was thin strings a long thin bone for a neck and a round flat piece of bone he stretched a thin piece of leathery skin over it, gluing it together inspiration taking him over he didn’t notice time passing was it an hour maybe four of five he knew not or cared. He had yet to meet a person not cheer by a song accompanied by a banjo!

He twanged and tuned the instrument and tried to think of a good song he knew well about lost love, hope despite everything. He wandered up to lonely outcropping of bone and sat down, patted Boomer on his head, looking out over the wastes of Maldraxxus, he cleared his throat closed his eye smiled and  he began to sing and play and old song.

“♫♫Blue moon of Draenor keep on shining
Shine on the one that's gone and proved untrue
Blue moon of Draenor keep on shining
Shine on the one that's gone and left me blue
It was on a moonlight night
The stars were shining bright
And they whispered from on high
Your love has said good-bye
Blue moon of Draenor keep on shining
Shine on the one that's gone and said good-bye
Blue moon of Draenor keep on shining
Shine on the one that's gone and proved untrue
Blue moon of Draenor keep on shining..♫♫”

He sang long into the day perfecting the song and tuning his new bone banjo he would sing it for the Red Blade when he could.



***Heavily plagiarized from Blue moon of Kentucky of course
Source

Spoiler: show

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K6cv7kw9xoI

Bone Banjo

Spoiler: show

[Bamm at the Hill]

Bamm at the Hill

Bamm was racing Boomer around Razorhill as the sun set, a wide grin on his face he was winning.  Boomer let out a happy mechanical bark and then engaged his turbo and sped past Bamm to Bamm’s loud infuriated laughter.

“ Dang it Boomer hahahah you scamp that’s cheating!!!”

Bamm was secretly proud Boomer’s ability to use abilities without prompt was getting stronger, his instinct programming was getting more mailable and more creative, Boomer didn’t engage his turbo till the last hundred meters. He hollered loudly and cheered at Boomer patting and making a fuss of his to Boomer’s happy delight he span on the spot and let out another happy bark.

Bamm thought dwelled on his friends in Northrend he hoped they would be ok. Verzan’s and Throatrender's patronizing comments affected him, “Protect the hill?” Why did they always speak to him like a peon, he’d never bring it up, he would never hurt his friends feelings but he wasn’t a peon his eyes focused on Boomer as the mechanodog stalked a lizard then ignited it with his flamethrower, Bamm chuckled. A peon couldn’t create that, he was so close to creating life, real life, mechanical life that didn’t act on command but instinct. The complex math, science and engineering he put into Boomer his blood sweat and tears. Was it because he refused to be sad or dour like the others? Was it his love of life mistaken for stupidity.

No he thought. He refused to change if they saw him as stupid he would let them, he would care for them regardless, he would never be, moody, dour, angry or angsty.
His Momma always said you get back what you put into the world  and then something about hydras being angry because they got all them teeth and no toothbrush and that made him laugh out loud for  quite a while. A Razorhill guard peered at him as he walked past and slightly recoiled confused. Bamm returned to his camp at first whistling a happy if somewhat off key tune, He wanted to be happy so he would be happy, Boomer bounced a ran around his feet, Bamm did a few happy steps of a dance backwards and forth and span on the spot clapping his hands and then breaking into a ditty of a song about Goblin with large assets as he used a wrench as a microphone.
There was explosives to create, if these undead attack Razorhill again. He would tear them to pieces with explosive force, shrapnel, fire and Boomer.

[Spoiler:]

Name: Bamm Ironspark
Alias: Him again?, Goblin Orc
Rank: Nag'ogar grunt
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Race: Orc
Clan: Orc? Redblade
Class: Engineer
Alignment: Chaotically Good

Family:
Mom: First Mate Sariss Saltblood
Dad: Arkail Blastblade
Known Friends: Boomer,  Gearoid Durashaft And everyone of The Red Blade clan they're all just neat.
Known Close Friends:  Boomer. The fantabulous Master Engineer Gearoid Durashaft
Known Enemies: None, dont be silly

**


Appearance:
A unusually short Orc. yet very well built stocky and muscular. Is in his late teens his hair wild unkempt burnt at the ends is always covered in oil and grease. Wearing Oily overalls and hefty well maintained toolbelt with all manner of tools and gizmos many he uses as makeshift weapons from crafting hammers to blowtorches and wrenches. His Boots appear to have shiny new Rockets attached to them.

Personality:
Childish, happy, naïve, excitable, reckless, loyal, sees the best in everyone and every situation, loves learning, thinking and a tinkering

History:
Born at sea to a loving pirate mother and a recently found travelling Orcish scholar. At an early age had strong love of engineering tinkering near as soon as he could walk, he mother saw potential in him so apprenticed him to a Skilled Goblin Engineer Gearoid Durashaft, who worked for various cartels. Has had a very happy life. His magnum opus is his best pal Boomer a near sentient Robotic Dog companion, he built himself and all his energy is working towards giving Boomer True sentience and free will. He recently discovered his father an Arkail Blastblade felt Bamm could do with some orcish culture having no real education in such matters, Bamm sought his father's clan The red blade and he is really enjoying his time with them, they are all so nice, friendly and welcoming, everyday he learns more and more about Orc life, has even been given a wolf of his own to ride Ripmaw who is a very good girl.


Things you may know about this character:
Is loud,  Loves blowing stuff up, happy, is  impossible to insult, loves Boomer and engineering

Things you may not know about this character:
Is natural mimic and impressionist, with a wide array of accents and noises
Wants to give Boomer free will an true level of sentience so he can choose what he wants to do and just be happy

Bone Banjo

Spoiler: show

Memorable Quotes:
LOUD HOLLERING HOWDY Y'ALL MOK'RA
SHITFIRE

Voice and Art references: GulfyDraws and Thiama ** see above



EA Battlefield Bad Company and King of the Hill

[Frustration and acceptance]

Frustration and acceptance


He had somehow found the Red Blade, he had fewer and fewer moments of clarity he remembered booty bay, he remembered ungoro talking to two orcs like him lost his own kind, if he could save them he could perhaps save himself or the memory of himself. For years now he had felt himself slipping away time for what it was, was almost done.

The voice, sounding like his own now, never left him now he felt it

“ ARRRRKILLLL ARRRRRKILLL ARRRRKILLL”

The voice rattled in the base of his skull up over his ears clashing as they met in the center of his mind. The wards he had placed to keep his mind safe breaking crumbling all his focus maintaining them. But now he was amongst red blade again. How had he found them again. His mind was a fog they where there familiar faces and new, but one blood. New voices in his mind but not. Portals, translocation self scarifcation, that was his saving grace up until now he kept moving changing relocating peppered in where battles, chases, clashes of magic and conflict.

The Kirin tor or someone was hounding him as for what he could only half remember an image like memory only half dreamed. A auditorium of young horde race magi laughing and elder kirin tor shouting and roaring a young orc standing hands on hips in the center with all the brash immortal bravado of youth legion grimoire in hand. Arkail watching it the spells clashing between the two factions of old and young. Arkail had orchestrated it all or had he? Fragments swirled clashed consequence came before effect time was as always was an abstract concept to Arkail even before his mind began to fail him. With his return to Red Blade tribe he felt more himself than he had in days, months, years? He did not know but he knew these last days what few he had left would be with them.

I'll add Bamm's voice in case you havent guessed he's sweet, dumb and  goblin'eske but savant with explosives and engineering. Think

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-p1l7JVDUP4

[Ungoro Crater a primal and time forgotten place]

Ungoro Crater a primal and time forgotten place

The stocky Orc hunched over his chemical cauldron it bubbled and popped the fire crackled softly underneath, a whole suite of chemical equpiment gathered around the small cauldron. He chanted softly not in any magical sense but more for good luck. Spinning around he pulled out one of the small pterodactyl chicks from one of his trap cages, wrung its neck, disembowelled it and slung it into the cauldron in which the cauldron sizzled in delight. Raptor bones where piled in small heaps at his bedroll grabbing several he took a small mallet splintering them, then with his mortal and pestle ground them to dust placing a small amount into an homemade ambleic a glass vial for distillation.
The stocky orc reviewed the cauldrons contents and poured small amount into the ambelic swilling it inspecting it holding it up to his eyes.
It was then he saw the silhouette behind him reflecting in the vial, dropping it and turning to face the intruder to his small camp, a blur and no more is what he saw, he turned again again and again, blurs of figure evading his vision. The orc grabbed a vial from his bandoleer and downed its contents he felt the power coursing though him grabbing a second vial in his hand. When the attack came he would be ready. Moments passed only hearing his own heart beat in his chest.

“my son” a voice spoke echoing around him

The Orc flung the vial at the voices direction it exploded in sticky fire mid air but he nothing but the jungle floor.

Was he fighting spirits? Ghosts? A though flashed though the orcs mind no, no this intruder of flesh and blood and he would make it pay for disturbing his brewing

“My Son” the voice spoke again The Stocky orc spun on his heel to find a frail skinny orc dressed in a manner of clothing he wasn’t familiar with sitting in his camp’s chair. Rage filled the stocky orcs mind. Grabbing another vial he slung it at the orc, it exploded mid air its contents again in a sticky fire. The frail figure blurred moving at a speed his eyes couldn’t follow and avoided the fiery concoction only setting ablaze the chair. The frail orc was now behind him.

“Cease your magic and face me frail one” the stocky Orc roared 

“My Son” The frail orc asked “why are you alone, alone in this strange land. Did you not come to this strange land to fight for the Horde?”

The stocky orc gazed at the features of the frail one, similar yet not his skinned a pallid green festooned with scars and blemishes one eye half closed a scar encircling it.

“Cease your prattling what do you want from me corrupted one use that magic again and I’ll remove your head from your shoulders” The stocky orc demanded

The frail one tilted his head and rubbed his chin. "My head unlike yours is attached to my neck my son, but you have your mother’s spirit. I am Arkail, arkail blastblade your father. I knew your mother well in your timeline 35 years ago, but to me only a few years have passed. Fascinating isn't it the time lines" Arkail began to speak of metaphysics and chromatic dragon nonsense

The stocky one roared silence interrupting arkail
"Cease your nonsense and prattle regardless of where your head is attached I’ll remove it My father, my father was a great, great warrior of the Bleeding hollow he fell fighting lightforged…"


“Is that what Kitrana said. Hmm I like that story.. heroic and noble self sacrificing. a good death experience" Arkail mused

“How do you know my mother’s name conjurer speak and be clear my next vial will not miss, I see your magics and know its limits I’ll burn this whole jungle down. Speak her name again and it’ll be your last” The Stocky orc spat

“Kahm my son I know many things and speak only truth, this is not the life me or Kitrana would wish for you. Alone. A life alone with out clan, purpose or fight” Arkail met his eyes dead on unblinking

“You may know my name and my mothers but you are not of my clan. And not my father conjurer with that Kahm grabbed a vial from his bandolier squeezing it tightly ready to end this nonsense

Arkail only raised his hand in it entwined where prayer beads, his mother’s prayer beads.
I am your father and we have much to speak about my Son I will tell you of a purpose worthy of your skills in alchemy

Kahm upon seeing the beads, placed the vial back on his bandoleer. His anger subsiding

They spoke long into the night the fire caused by the vials exploding and the campfire dying down in the many hours they spoke of all the things, why he had sought him out now of all times and the many adventures

Dawn was breaking Kahm nodded and rubbed his chin I will do as you ask… father

Arkail stood up if he was to smile it was only the slightest of smirks a wave of his hands a portal appeared and the frail old orc disappeared in it

Kahm stood silently for some time, he packed up his camp and set out.
There was a purpose and red blade to find

A explosive revelation

Gulls cried in the scorching heat of Booty Bay, the waves lapped gently at the dock, shanties sung out front the bar. All manner of life’s little noises from the arguments and profanity riddled conversation of dock workers and traders to passengers disembarking the ship. Sitting at the edge of one of the upper boardwalk a Young Orc sat barely 17, tinkering as he always did this mornings tinkering involved a small sail regulating gizmo for a local goblin airship, he sat absentmindedly tinkering when a explosion rocked the boardwalk a large hole blasted though the roof building behind him plaster, wood and tile launched into the air. The young Orc winced he knew what was coming

“BAMM! PROFIT DAMM YOU BOY WHAT THE FEL DAMNATION?!?!?!?”
A hoarse Goblin roared coughing and spluttering emerging from the Building’s smoking enterence

Bamm put down his tools, stood up dusted down his overalls and turned to face the Goblin

His mentor and teacher Gearoid Sivershaft was a one armed, no legged rotund elderly fellow of a Goblin no mean feat old age was not really something many Goblin’s experienced. His mechanical legs whirred and spluttered as he hobbled up to Bamm whacking him in the arm with mechano cane

“Every damn time boy”. The goblin hollered “every fel damn time that profit sucking robo hound monster of yours is left unattended in my shop it gets into something and BOOM
That’s two roofs, four tables, six arc spanners and 3 walls you owe me now Boy You gonna be working for me till your hundred, whats your mother gonna say when she gets back?”

Bamm rubbed his whacked arm and shrugged “it was in standby mode, it doesnt have sentience it has no mind of its own unless I plug into it, most of the time. Its sync servos are ionising as of late and….”

The goblin wiped his wrinkled brow with a greasy rag in frustration
Boy I tell you what if that damn robo hound thing of yours does it again I’ll plug it into to I tell you what and you wont like where I plug it shit fire boy I cant get a minutes piece you know we gots that Airship parts to service and you fel damn tinkering about out here shiiit, I am gonna get a fel damn drink and you better shit damned better get this shop dang well tidied by the time I get back.

Gearoid launched his mechano cane again at Bamm cracking him on the side of his head. Gearoid’s mechanical arm extending and then grabbing the cane before it fell, spun on his robotic legs and hobbled down the boardwalk off into the distance.

Bamm watched his mentor leave, rubbing his head, shrugged and went to check the damage inside.

Carnage awaited him inside, timbers and metal workshop parts littered the floor walls and what was left of the roof. Bamm lifted a timber and discovered his masterwork, his lifes goal and focus, his robotic hound. The hound was upside down his legs gyrated and shuddered in error.
“You Ok Boomer?” He asked resetting the hounds controls, Bamm flipped a few switches on interface attached to his wrist and pressed a button on his goggles.
“Lets see the damage eh Boomer?”  Bamm began to run a diagnostic “ No real damage, I see a few gyros out of alignment again, I need to create a stronger flux casing for those..”

Hours may have passed as Bamm sat among the wreckage tinkering with Boomer the mechohound Time he found always stopped when he was tinkering

“Bamm“ a unfamiliar voice echoed  “Bamm? Boy look at me”
Bamm unlinked from his hound and turned to face the voice tightly gripping a wrench as he did. Another one of Gearoid’s loansharks coming a calling
What Bamm saw though was a middle aged Orc familiar as if looking into a future version of himself the orc was dressed oddly fancy tailoring, a fancy sigil on his clothing

“Bamm my son the Orc explained, its time we talk…”
“My name is Arkail Blastblade and we don’t have much time, I am your father. The orc was short to the point unemotional, This may be a shock, yes indeed but do try to keep attention I see you enjoy the pursuit of the intellectual too. Interesting indeed hmm quite I should think”

Bamm scratched his head with his wrench sat down dumbfounded and listened to the Orc he did always enjoy stories

Arkail explained who he was how he found and learned of his existence, how he met his mother and what he wanted over the next few hours

Bamm my boy I am hunted by Kirin tor mage hunters, there was an incident, the details don’t matter, time is short.  you need to know your hertitge your place your people, this life you lead though it seems to have born some fruits and you seem to have learned a craft you deem rewarding. I spent too long among others that where not my own. Ten years I spent in Undercity, You years among these Goblins. I belong… or did to a group of Orcs… Theyre called to the Red Blade. You would benefit from them, I sense your curious. Say my name, prove yourself useful to them and the rewards are great family, tribe belonging a life of purpose and adventure.

Bamm and Arkail talked and discuused things long into the night. In the morning Bamm awoke to find Arkail was gone leaving only directions on how to find the red blade.

“Ask the tavern keepers in Durotar and follow the ‘chaos’ they leave”

Bamm crumpled the note and packed his things, tools equipment, plugged into Boomer the mechano hound. He left a iou note for Gearoid  and walked out of Booty Bay at the gates to the town he stopped looked back on the place and shrugged

may as well he thought why not chaos and adventure sounds fun, he nodded at his mechano hound and said

“OK boomer lets go, find these red blades”

Thinking bout some bad jokes
http://imgur.com/a/8s7Qf8A

[The Trial of Arkail Blastblade]

The Trial of Arkail Blastblade

A gavel bangs loudly echoing though a hall, the sound of teleportation zings though the air robed figures appearing from each portal and taking their seats. Two robed guards prod and poke a shackled figure as they lead him into the centre of the hall.
A thin tall human eyes glowing faintly begins to speak in a disinterested yet harsh tone.

“We are gathered here for the Trial of one Arkail Blastblade ‘Scribe’ and Associate Archivist for the Kirin Tor for the crimes of Child endangerment, relic misuse leading to the loss of said legion relic, Lewdness not limited to vulgarity not befitting a member of the Kirin Tor, base trickery and flagrant disregard of Portal and translocation magic policy, fraud, vandalism, professional misconduct, polymorphic assault and assault with archival records”

Arkail remained silent, his eyes fixed in the middle distance.

“Several young novices gone, vanished without a trace where are they? We don’t know, you refuse to say anything. A expedition to the Broken Shore without authorisation, The Shore which still contains pockets of Legion demon TOO this day.  A grimoire relic of the legion taken from the vault, several guards left with concussion with several tomes damaged in the means to do so. Two Polymorphic assaults upon fellow magisters to which one hasn’t fully reformed and may have sustained permant polymorphic injures. Fellow Magister Sheeowyn cannot hold a lecture on the ley line infrastructure of semi permanent planes of existence if his head is that of a sheep!   Does the accused have anything to say in this matter, before sentencing is carried out?”

A child like voice echos in the hall “Sheepowyn Makes you sleep-o-wyn  !!!” Followed by a short stifled laugh

A thundering shout  from the Thin tall man for Order followed by several bangs of his gavel silenced and refocused the room

“We will have order in this hall”

Arkail hadn’t reacted to the disturbance but now cleared his throat and began to speak.

“I have merely found that learning is done better when done in  tandem with real world situations and real physical threat. While i apologise for the assault of the guards that was in no small part due to my condition which the court is well aware of..”   
The old familiar voice creped up arkail’s spine and into the base of his skull. “AAAAAARRRRRRRKKKKILLL”

Arkail’s face remained composed as he paused for breath and continued speaking. "I merely lead a small outdoor lecture on the dangers of and proper use of fel based magic while abstaining from the actual use of Fel and merely borrowed the Grimore of Xel’nazxtil to show that knowledge is knowledge and that use of that in a proper and constructive way"

“9 novices Lost? “The thin mage interjected. “The youngest barely 8 the oldest, a fellow Orc ilk of yours only 15”

Arkail met the thin mage’s gaze square in the eye, calmly stating
“The kirin tor are not stating that race has anything to do with ones moral value are...”
The gavel bangs again frantically. "absolutely not coolywoddle and nonsense “ The thin mage replied cutting Arkail’s off.

A small murmur rippled though the room, followed by more frantic gavel banging
The thin mage shouted for order.
“Sentencing is to be carried you are to be judged by a group of your fellows and peers”

A small zing of teleportation magic echoed in the hall, a small gathering of wide grining children each holding a hand on a large grimore appeared in the corner. lead by a young orc standing in a wide gait a hand on each hip. He cocked his head back a laughed like a teenager who had read too many heroic stories would do and released a bolt of fel energy that soared its way across the room towards Arkail’s magical restraints they melted as the bolt struck. The young boy leaped to the center using the grimore as a weapon ducking under a guards attempt to grab him and planting a upward strike between the guards legs the spine of the book connecting with force followed by a backhanded swipe across the guard’s face with the books iron bound cover causing the guard to spin and fall to the floor.

Arkail sighed with mirth rubbing his wrists.
"Sarsis this isn’t what i meant when i said that knowledge is the best weapon to wield"
Around the room the 9 young novices jumped and leap causing chaos two or three clinging the to backs of magisters whacking their mounts with books and little bolts  of arcane energy
The gavel banged frantically as order was shouted to established shouts for Arkail and his novices to be caught and restrained.

“Archivist Blastblade” Sarsis explained “Probably best sir if you make your escape, don’t think you’d be welcome here sir nope not at all. We got this i am out of here, these kirin tor aint for me nope, not all no sir'ree  gonna keep the book, like the way it makes me feel,but had to get the nippers home was fun!”

Arkail gave the young orc a long look and sighed. “ just be careful with it remember the lessons and discipline, patience and abstaining all magic is corrupting but knowledge is not”

Sarsis gave him a wink and youthful roar of laughter, a hand on each hip as Arkail summoned a portal a vanished though it.  Sarsis stood proudly smiling at the chaos he had caused as the children one by one where restrained and caught. He hugged the book close to his chest, falling back as he vanished too.

[Awakening.]

Awakening.

Arkail came too,  his good eye blinking in confusion, how long had he been gone? Curled up in his now tattered robes, his Kirin Tor tabard and raised collar and cloak filthy. He was in Orgrimmar in the drag?  Arkail scrambled to his feet, unsteady and weak, hunger wracked his frail body.

“Arrrrrrrrrrkilllllll”

The whisper shot up his spine to the base of his skull, paralysing him in place briefly before releasing him causing him to fall to his knees, then to the floor. seizures shook him, his fingers bent & contorted, his mouth clenched shut, legs kicking... darkness and whispers descended and engulfed him... 

The seizure had \passed and Arkail gasped for air
How long had he been gone?

“Whats all this then?” a unfamiliar voice enquired “ 'nother weak wretch not fit to lift 'n axe ehh?”

A booted  kick to Arkail's ribs landed before he could answer, driving the air from his lungs.
Arkail glancing up saw the voice's owner a large maghar grey skinned eyes aflame like red coals, a blackrock.
The Maghar sent a second kick towards Arkail, instinctively teleported  across the dark marketplace of the Drag, causing the plate booted kick to miss striking a wall. Arkail rose to his feet staggering  and clutching his ribs. The Maghar cursed & roared

“Weak trickery, lil wretch!?!”

Charging down upon Arkail, the Maghar's fists balled up ready to strike. Arkail teleported again just before the Maghar connected a strike, causing him to collide with a empty closed market stall.
Arkail breathed hard as the Maghar emerged from the ruined stall, drawing his weapon charging again, cursing and roaring.
Arkail fumbled frantically though his ruined pockets finding two runed stones, if he was a spiritual orc he would have thanked them. One in each hand, he preformed a series of gestures series as the Maghar charged, a small portal appeared at its feet the Maghar vanished a perplexed look upon his face as he did. Reappearing about 4 meters above where he had vanished, the perpetual motion transferred to the fall, hitting the ground with a crunch as his plate armour compressed ever so slightly.
Unconscious groans emitnating from the fallen Maghar his face buried in the dirt floor of the Drag
Arkail stumbled he preformed a series of gestures with the two runed stones & vanished,
reappearing in his quarters of purple and gold. Back in Dalaran

Arkail blinking his good eye as he was greeted with a familar voice

“Ah  Archivist  Arkail you've returned? Charming choice of attire, may perhaps you should chnge before your lecture at eight,? No? Hmmm regardless breakfast is there for you“
It was Mergenfauker, his dorm mate & research partner, a smug arrogant but typical  Kirin Tor forsaken mage.

Arkail didnt respond, but agreed, he changed, ate and left for the lecture. He approached the front of the hall and began to speak to those assembled


“A good use for transmutation magic is teleportation. The most basic teleportation spell is blink, and it remains among the most useful. Blink can be used to quickly escape a foe - or save a mage who has accidentally fallen off a cliff. Do not attempt to use blink to escape falling to your death unless absolutely necessary. This is the kind of trick you can only fail once.
Make absolutely certain you know your destination before attempting to teleport. There's a reason we have very specific spells to teleport to certain locations - attempts to cast a teleportation "on the fly" often result in one very dead mage inside a wall, chair, or another mage. And I don't mean in a fun way....”


Arkail lecture continued for hours accompanied by the sound of faint snores of the bored apprentices

Love is a Battlefield..