12-11-2011, 06:26 PM
Piken stood on a snowy hill, looking toward the West.. Toward his home. What was left. In the distance one could see the clouds of green smog being released from the ventilation system of the old Gnomish techno-city. He let out a sigh behind his mask, fingers tapping the holstered pistol at his hip.
"I'm tired of this.." He uttered in his native tongue. "It sickens me how nothing is done. I'm tired of waiting. If they're not doing shit, I'm doing it myself."
Hours later, there seemed to be posters hanging around the Dwarven city of Ironforge, and days later, similar posters would be hanging around the human city of Stormwind. The words would be written in the Gnomish language, the writing very well-written and neat.
It read..
My Gnomish brothers and sisters! Please, answer this call. I have grown tired of seeing nothing done to regain our lost home. The home, the technological marvel of Gnomeregan, our beloved city, has been under the control of the rotten traitor and his minions for far too long. Nothing seems to have been done to regain our city and it is time for us to make the push ourselves instead of waiting for others to do it for us. We must work towards taking back what belongs to us, and taking down the traitor that forced us out of our own homes and workshops. It won't be easy, but we can endure and we can reclaim it. Regardless of what others may think of us as a race, we are great and strong. Our intelligence is unrivaled. We must make the real effort to fight for what is ours! I ask for the strongest and smartest of the Gnomish race to take on this task. It will not be easy, it will not be fun, and it will not be safe. But it must be done. Go to the marked location if you are interested. Ask for Spinpistol. Thank you, brothers and sisters."
On the posters is a place in Ironforge marked on a map. At least giving the relative location.. A place in the Mystic Ward.
He nodded as he put up the last poster. "Now.. To see who comes." And he headed back toward Ironforge.. To wait.
"I'm tired of this.." He uttered in his native tongue. "It sickens me how nothing is done. I'm tired of waiting. If they're not doing shit, I'm doing it myself."
Hours later, there seemed to be posters hanging around the Dwarven city of Ironforge, and days later, similar posters would be hanging around the human city of Stormwind. The words would be written in the Gnomish language, the writing very well-written and neat.
It read..
My Gnomish brothers and sisters! Please, answer this call. I have grown tired of seeing nothing done to regain our lost home. The home, the technological marvel of Gnomeregan, our beloved city, has been under the control of the rotten traitor and his minions for far too long. Nothing seems to have been done to regain our city and it is time for us to make the push ourselves instead of waiting for others to do it for us. We must work towards taking back what belongs to us, and taking down the traitor that forced us out of our own homes and workshops. It won't be easy, but we can endure and we can reclaim it. Regardless of what others may think of us as a race, we are great and strong. Our intelligence is unrivaled. We must make the real effort to fight for what is ours! I ask for the strongest and smartest of the Gnomish race to take on this task. It will not be easy, it will not be fun, and it will not be safe. But it must be done. Go to the marked location if you are interested. Ask for Spinpistol. Thank you, brothers and sisters."
On the posters is a place in Ironforge marked on a map. At least giving the relative location.. A place in the Mystic Ward.
He nodded as he put up the last poster. "Now.. To see who comes." And he headed back toward Ironforge.. To wait.