Day 1
Coilfang Resevoir - Serpentshrine Caverns
Dear Olivia,
Pfffff ... It’s been years. 26 Years since I last sat down and actually picked up a pen. For some reason I couldn't bring myself to it. Of course I wrote the usual letter to my friends adding food supplies, sometimes money; but most of the time stuff I found lying around which might be of more use to them then to me. In time I’d receive a thank you note or a friendly gesture in the form of money. That was about it. I didn't write anything else. I've done so much over the years. Some things I can hardly even remember. The doc says its brain damage - too many bonks to the head.
It all began way back even before the first war. Around the age of 210 I had left my parents house, because I wanted to become a fisherman. Some place I hardly remember the name of, became my home for about 5 years where I learned some tricks of the trade. For a while it wasn't even going that bad, even made some money there to save up for my future. It wasn't much, but it was a living and at least I was on my own. My mother always had been way to caring. She still made my lunch when I was already past the age for it to be appropriate. I already had a small beard for crying out loud!
2 years after I left my home my dad died. My mom said he got killed when he was on a hunting trip but I knew she was lying. My dad may have been a useless drunk like me, but he was an excellent hunter. He was a crap blacksmith though and that was his fatal blow. The moron had a bit too much to drink and spilled his last Dragon's Breath in the forge fire. "Burned to a crisp, ye dad" - that’s what our local inn keeper always used to tell me when I came to visit my mom the years after on my fake vacations. I told my mom I was in the army, told her that so she'd tell her friends. One of them had a beautiful daughter. Breasts the size of beer kegs. Olivia...
I always thought if I went away for 5 years, learnt fishing while everyone thought I was in the army I could retire as a fisherman back where I came from and maybe Olivia would love me for being such a tough guy. It pains me to say that wasn't what happened! 2 years after my dad’s death, the village my mom lived in got ran over by trolls. Greenskins we called them. The bloody creatures killed everyone including my mom.... and Olivia. I was devastated. All this happened just because some silly elf got it into their fat head they had the right to claim the upper regions of the Eastern Kingdom and drove those damn beasts off whilst they were at it. The trolls wrecked any place standing between them and the next place they would build their next settlement. I found out later they set up in the region of Zul'Gurub in Stranglethorn Vale.
That was the time I actually wanted to join the army, any army! I didn't care if it was the Wildhammers, Dark Irons, Bronzebeards or maybe even a human campaign. I didn't belong to any of them so I couldn't care less who I killed, just as long as I was with some tough guys who might get me the chance to eventually get back at the monsters that killed my mom. So I did, I joined an army! Of course ... knowing me ... not a normal army! Nooooo..... I joined the Privateers. "Hardened warriors, rangers and mages, best you'll ever find". At least ... that’s what the recruiting guy said when I was drunk sitting at some bar. When I woke up the next day, by someone poking me, I found out I’d been taken in by 2 rather weird looking guys and a night elf. They ran a travelling party which did chores other people where too afraid to do, or were too lazy for that matter. I wanted out. Come on..... hardened warriors? Who? This big brute 3 times my size that had a pet squirrel that lived in his arm pit? A ranger, what ranger? All I saw was a skinny little guy with a bow who was just as green as a troll in my eyesight. They said he was an elf, still hated him though. No special reason I just didn't trust the fact he was green. Then again I'm colour blind. They kept telling me he wasn't green at all. Then there was a mage. Right ... a mage ... some guy called Medetheron, or Meddy for short. Always had big stories about long travels, gnomes, and stuff about big mountains and throwing away magical rings. Weird guy! Everyone knows all fake stories include a long journey. It’s because they are trying to buy time to actually make up the ending.
I wanted out of there so badly.
That was until they told me their current occupation was travelling to Stranglethorn Vale to investigate some troll movement near there and the regions of the Black Morass. All I could think of was Greenskins! Greenskins and blood! Oh, how I wanted them dead for what they had done to my mom. I sold everything. Didn't think I'd be back any day soon and all I took was my best fishing pole, a bag of food and a pouch full of money...
"Stop your day dreaming Fuzzy!!! ... Its Boom Boom time ... Time to kill stuff ... It’s now or neffaaaaa..."
"Ohw, quick or he'll never stop singing"
Fuzzy tucked away his little book. He kept it with a pen; he once got from his dad, in a secret pocket on the back of his shield. He wasn't the philosophical type but since the only thing used to block a sword was a shield that’s where he kept it. That way he mused, the pen would always stay mightier than the sword. Fuzzy jumped off the keg he used as a chair, and while Gnome mage Elmica was still holding her ears to avoid hearing any of Nik's terrible singing scuffled up to the front line. "What’s on the menu today boss?" he asked while looking blurred out of his eyes. Nik squinted at him and replied "Have you been drinking again you silly dwarf! I sometimes ask myself why we keep a drunk like you around. It's a good thing you're just as good at fighting as you are at drinking." With that said Nik pointed in the general direction of a female naga. "You see her?" he asked. "Yesh, I do" was the only reply Fuzzy could give before Nik shoved him in that general direction. The next thing he knew was being dragged from the underground lair and being put next to a mage from another squad known as the 'suicide team'. "Things didn't go as planned then?" he asked to the guy next to him. "Not really ..." was the last he heard when the world faded to black.
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