... And here, safe in The Exodar we're leaving Rusty until next year.
She says:
I hope for more readers than the 0 per post I have now, if I shall continue to tell my tales.
Dioniss aca
Rusty
søndag den 3. december 2017
The Tales of Rusty - 7
Interlude in Exodar
Some days later Elysia was done with the translations. Boron read the text and exclaimed: “Velen must know this! Rusty, please, take this text to Prophet Velen in the Exodar.” Now it was my time to loose my colour: “Me. The Prophet. Oh no. I can’t.” “And why not, may I ask,” was Boron’s gruff reply. “Are you not hale of life and limb.” I tried to tell Vindicator Boron that I felt unworthy to go before The Prophet, but he waved me off. “You’re the best we have, and also the only one. Get going already, lass!”
So off I went. I dared not trust my legs. This time I paid Laando his 99 coppers to rent a hippogryph. It was a nice ride. My hair flew in the winds and the view was just great. I passed the murloc encampment where Murgurgula’s minions had come close to costing me my life. And then the Exodar loomed ahead. I almost jumped off the hippogryph from shock as it flew inside instead of landing gently outside. The wings nearly touched the walls and I crouched low so as not to bump my head. The flight ended just outside the bank. I got my shaking legs to the ground. The hippogryph master noticed my white face and asked me if the going had been rough outside. I answered with a shaky smile and voice: “No, only inside. Laando did not tell me you flew into the Exodar nowadays.” He smiled and said that there was too much noise outside, what with pilgrim’s feast, Spring fling and all kinds of festivals, that had come to the Isles lately. “The hippogryphs have to sleep, you know.” I nodded agreeing and went on.
After this crazy flight the last thing I felt up to, was an audience with The Prophet. But I had to. I went up the shiny, golden stairs and asked one of the servants if I could speak with Prophet Velen. He eyed my worn outfit and my slender frame. Then his eyes fell on the hilt of my well-worn sword and I saw his looks change a bit. He told me that I could wait here for some minutes, while he saw to the details. Well there was no getting out now. I tried to polish my shoes by rubbing them on the back of my trousers, but to no avail. My whole gear was threadbare and dusty. The servant called my name and lead me on to the Prophet. I delivered my best bow and told him my name. He asked me to state my business and I held out the original missive together with Elysia’s translation, while giving the short resume of the happenings, which I had been practising all the way. The servant took the papers and handed them to him. He read, and I stood waiting. He made small, strange noises while reading, and re-read several passages. Then he turned away to his writing stand, wrote a short note and sealed it. “Rustypal, take this letter back to vindicator Boron. He will see to your reward.” Then the audience was over, I bowed and backed off like Matron had told us long ago. I bet I saw the Prophet smile at my antics.
After a short rest on a bench out of sight of anybody, I went to Yil’s armour shop. I really needed a new suit of mail. He had just the right thing for me, It fit like it was made for me and it was strong, yet flexible. My dream armour in short. But alas, my meagre savings were not enough for even half the armour, including the exchange price of my old, which admittedly was very worn. I bade Yil hide it so that I could have a chance saving up for it. He hung it in a dark corner of his shop, behind more colourful, but less functional gear. “Some go for bling,” he said smiling at me. I smiled back and left. On the way out a large shield caught my eyes. Yil saw me looking at it and told me the price. I’m sure he set it low enough to be a temptation to me. I bought it, and ran a caressing hand over its hard metal surface. Not a scratch, not a weak spot. “You’d like to see this customer return,” I teased Yil. “Yes,” he answered, “that and I like your spunk, gal. Stay alive out there.”
In-game notes: Level 16
Some days later Elysia was done with the translations. Boron read the text and exclaimed: “Velen must know this! Rusty, please, take this text to Prophet Velen in the Exodar.” Now it was my time to loose my colour: “Me. The Prophet. Oh no. I can’t.” “And why not, may I ask,” was Boron’s gruff reply. “Are you not hale of life and limb.” I tried to tell Vindicator Boron that I felt unworthy to go before The Prophet, but he waved me off. “You’re the best we have, and also the only one. Get going already, lass!”
So off I went. I dared not trust my legs. This time I paid Laando his 99 coppers to rent a hippogryph. It was a nice ride. My hair flew in the winds and the view was just great. I passed the murloc encampment where Murgurgula’s minions had come close to costing me my life. And then the Exodar loomed ahead. I almost jumped off the hippogryph from shock as it flew inside instead of landing gently outside. The wings nearly touched the walls and I crouched low so as not to bump my head. The flight ended just outside the bank. I got my shaking legs to the ground. The hippogryph master noticed my white face and asked me if the going had been rough outside. I answered with a shaky smile and voice: “No, only inside. Laando did not tell me you flew into the Exodar nowadays.” He smiled and said that there was too much noise outside, what with pilgrim’s feast, Spring fling and all kinds of festivals, that had come to the Isles lately. “The hippogryphs have to sleep, you know.” I nodded agreeing and went on.
After this crazy flight the last thing I felt up to, was an audience with The Prophet. But I had to. I went up the shiny, golden stairs and asked one of the servants if I could speak with Prophet Velen. He eyed my worn outfit and my slender frame. Then his eyes fell on the hilt of my well-worn sword and I saw his looks change a bit. He told me that I could wait here for some minutes, while he saw to the details. Well there was no getting out now. I tried to polish my shoes by rubbing them on the back of my trousers, but to no avail. My whole gear was threadbare and dusty. The servant called my name and lead me on to the Prophet. I delivered my best bow and told him my name. He asked me to state my business and I held out the original missive together with Elysia’s translation, while giving the short resume of the happenings, which I had been practising all the way. The servant took the papers and handed them to him. He read, and I stood waiting. He made small, strange noises while reading, and re-read several passages. Then he turned away to his writing stand, wrote a short note and sealed it. “Rustypal, take this letter back to vindicator Boron. He will see to your reward.” Then the audience was over, I bowed and backed off like Matron had told us long ago. I bet I saw the Prophet smile at my antics.
![]() |
Audience with Prophet Velen |
After a short rest on a bench out of sight of anybody, I went to Yil’s armour shop. I really needed a new suit of mail. He had just the right thing for me, It fit like it was made for me and it was strong, yet flexible. My dream armour in short. But alas, my meagre savings were not enough for even half the armour, including the exchange price of my old, which admittedly was very worn. I bade Yil hide it so that I could have a chance saving up for it. He hung it in a dark corner of his shop, behind more colourful, but less functional gear. “Some go for bling,” he said smiling at me. I smiled back and left. On the way out a large shield caught my eyes. Yil saw me looking at it and told me the price. I’m sure he set it low enough to be a temptation to me. I bought it, and ran a caressing hand over its hard metal surface. Not a scratch, not a weak spot. “You’d like to see this customer return,” I teased Yil. “Yes,” he answered, “that and I like your spunk, gal. Stay alive out there.”
![]() |
Trading with Yil. |
In-game notes: Level 16
onsdag den 29. november 2017
The Tales of Rusty - 6
Letters and missives
I made my way home to Blood Watch without further incidence, and was met by a scolding by our mailman, Hermesius. He had a letter for me, and now I had been away for so long! It was my first letter ever, so I sought out a quiet corner to read it. It was written by Admiral Odesyus, he had had a vision one night in a heavy sleep after eating too much of Cookies awful grub. An old sailing friend of his, captain Edward Hanes, had visited him in the dream and told him a strange tale about an island named Wyrmscar. Now he needed me to hear this tale and help him out. But this had to wait. The small community in Blood Watch had to rely on every person doing their share, and not running off chasing dreams on far off islands. At least that was how I saw the world then.
Well, next morning Tracker Lyceon came over and asked me how I was doing with those bear flanks of his. I tried to avoid the matter by asking him more about the blue flutteres, but he could not be distracted. I had to get out and get those bear flanks now! But it was not an easy thing to get out of the village. Jessera of Mac'aree grabbed my sleeve and entreated me to go and look for more mushrooms, this time on the same island where Odesyus’ vision was situated. I told him, that I would do it, maybe later, and certainly not rigth away, unless he wanted to go hungry. Lyceon had impressed on me the necessity for those bear flanks. Jessera told me a bit more about that island, Wyrmscar, that there be dragons. It made my willingness to go there even less.
On my way hunting Vindicator Aalesia stopped me: “I never thanked you enough for your job with gathering those strange Crystals for me. You did well, and now I would like you to look for one more strange stone near Nazzivian, where the satyrs live. And if you can, pick some more crystal samples from otu there while you're at it.” As Nazzivian was stituated in the same in the same general direction as where Tracker Lycaeon had told me to hunt for the small brown bears, I accepted the job.
I decided to go to Nazzivian for crystals first, following my motto take the worst when you’re at your best. So off I went. On my way I saw some of the small brown bears lumbering in the distance, but strangely no blue flutterers. I had taken to watching them and I was on the brink of believing Tracker Lyceon's theory. The were always gathered around bits and pieces of the faintly glowing crystals from the Exodar, and they tried to brush me with their antennae whenever I got close.
The road to Nazzivian was hardly more than a track, and soon it became bordered by palisades and lit up by torches stuck in mounds of sculls. I shivered, but I was determined to do my duty, I walked off the road where the palisades were broken and kept to the long grass. I saw something moving ahead of me. A strange being, it looked a bit like a hairy draenei, but it had long green horns, slim and twisted like the horns of a gazelle. It was beautiful in its foreignness. I walked slowly so as not to attract the satyrs' attention. I almost made it to an altar of sorts, where a strangely glistening stone had caught my attention. But one of the satyrs saw me and cast a strange spell on me. It made me feel cold and lethargic all over, It was all I could do to raise my sword and strike weakly at him. To my utter surprise he wore almost no armour, and my sword went through him as a hot knife through butter. When I stopped shivering from the spell, I grabbed the strange tablet together with a sample of the ubiquitous crystals.
Well that was one easy victory. There were as Lyceon had guessed, lots of the flutterers around the crystals, so I killed off some more for good measure.
Retracing my path I saw a shortcut through unknown land. I quickly, but carefully went down the unknown path, trodden by many feet.
And suddenly it dawned on me, those were Sunhawk's tracks! Blood elves are slightly smaller and much lighter of build than us Draenei, and then they have small, dainty feet. And that as the exact beings that were using this path.
I was about to turn around and go back as I remembered the talk in Blood Watch that someone had heard something about there being a Sunhawk spy outpost near Blood Watch. This must be it. I stopped, now very cautious. I noticed the well trodden path now I had passed some distance from the normal roads. I saw lots of broken crystals up ahead, surely more wreckage form the Exodar. But they were stood on their ends, connected by a luminous, chainlike substance. I carefully left the path, and went around to scout from the other side. The camp seemed almost deserted, four or five crystal structures stood at irregular intervals, but it seemed they were guarded only by two inexperienced looking youngsters. I stayed and watched them for half an hour almost, but nothing happened. No new guards came down the path. It seemed an ideal opportunity for an attack. I carefully went through the underbrush until I was behind the two youngsters. They had relaxed, talking and joking with one another. It must be nearing the end of their shift, and they had relaxed their normal vigilance, tasting the soon to come relief.
I sprang into action, Screaming like a madman, I jumped out from behind the bushes and stunned one of the guards before he even knew what hit him. I was not necessary out to kill, even though Sunhawks were evil, those two seemed so young and innocent. The other youngster came at me with his sword, screaming insults - or maybe orders - at me in Thalassian. My grip of that language was unfortunately not good, and I did not understand one word of this. But I understood his swordplay, inefficient and slow. I had no trouble besting him without hurting him.
I then gagged and trussed both youngsters with their own ropes, pulled them away form the camp, and threw a greenish camouflage blanket over them, which I found were they had been posted. It would not hurt them, except from their dignity, to stew for some time before they were found. I then methodically searched the camp, and found a smallish chest like the ones missives are transported in. I broke the locking mechanism, and took all the papers inside the chest. I did not find any more, but I heard steps coming from the path, so I made myself disappear in the general direction of Blood Watch.
Upon my return, I gave the Sunhawk’s papers to Vindicator Boron. He gave the papers one short look, and passed them back to me. “This is written in Thalassian I think. Please bring them to Elysia, so that she might have a go on translating them.” As my Thalassian was limited to a few phrases, mostly insults and swear words, I had no chance to see if he was right. I took them over to Elysia immediately. She said that it was indeed Thalassian, and promised to treat them urgently. I looked at the wad of papers and told her I would return later.
I took a long soak in my tub, oh the luxury, and got hold of some of Lycaeon’s delicious food. That man might be a poor hunter, but he is one good cook! The next days I spent repairing my mail, it was rather frayed already, and I’m afraid I have not quite stopped growing yet.
In-game notes: Levels 15-17
I made my way home to Blood Watch without further incidence, and was met by a scolding by our mailman, Hermesius. He had a letter for me, and now I had been away for so long! It was my first letter ever, so I sought out a quiet corner to read it. It was written by Admiral Odesyus, he had had a vision one night in a heavy sleep after eating too much of Cookies awful grub. An old sailing friend of his, captain Edward Hanes, had visited him in the dream and told him a strange tale about an island named Wyrmscar. Now he needed me to hear this tale and help him out. But this had to wait. The small community in Blood Watch had to rely on every person doing their share, and not running off chasing dreams on far off islands. At least that was how I saw the world then.
Well, next morning Tracker Lyceon came over and asked me how I was doing with those bear flanks of his. I tried to avoid the matter by asking him more about the blue flutteres, but he could not be distracted. I had to get out and get those bear flanks now! But it was not an easy thing to get out of the village. Jessera of Mac'aree grabbed my sleeve and entreated me to go and look for more mushrooms, this time on the same island where Odesyus’ vision was situated. I told him, that I would do it, maybe later, and certainly not rigth away, unless he wanted to go hungry. Lyceon had impressed on me the necessity for those bear flanks. Jessera told me a bit more about that island, Wyrmscar, that there be dragons. It made my willingness to go there even less.
On my way hunting Vindicator Aalesia stopped me: “I never thanked you enough for your job with gathering those strange Crystals for me. You did well, and now I would like you to look for one more strange stone near Nazzivian, where the satyrs live. And if you can, pick some more crystal samples from otu there while you're at it.” As Nazzivian was stituated in the same in the same general direction as where Tracker Lycaeon had told me to hunt for the small brown bears, I accepted the job.
I decided to go to Nazzivian for crystals first, following my motto take the worst when you’re at your best. So off I went. On my way I saw some of the small brown bears lumbering in the distance, but strangely no blue flutterers. I had taken to watching them and I was on the brink of believing Tracker Lyceon's theory. The were always gathered around bits and pieces of the faintly glowing crystals from the Exodar, and they tried to brush me with their antennae whenever I got close.
The road to Nazzivian was hardly more than a track, and soon it became bordered by palisades and lit up by torches stuck in mounds of sculls. I shivered, but I was determined to do my duty, I walked off the road where the palisades were broken and kept to the long grass. I saw something moving ahead of me. A strange being, it looked a bit like a hairy draenei, but it had long green horns, slim and twisted like the horns of a gazelle. It was beautiful in its foreignness. I walked slowly so as not to attract the satyrs' attention. I almost made it to an altar of sorts, where a strangely glistening stone had caught my attention. But one of the satyrs saw me and cast a strange spell on me. It made me feel cold and lethargic all over, It was all I could do to raise my sword and strike weakly at him. To my utter surprise he wore almost no armour, and my sword went through him as a hot knife through butter. When I stopped shivering from the spell, I grabbed the strange tablet together with a sample of the ubiquitous crystals.
![]() |
Strange beings indeed. |
Well that was one easy victory. There were as Lyceon had guessed, lots of the flutterers around the crystals, so I killed off some more for good measure.
Retracing my path I saw a shortcut through unknown land. I quickly, but carefully went down the unknown path, trodden by many feet.
And suddenly it dawned on me, those were Sunhawk's tracks! Blood elves are slightly smaller and much lighter of build than us Draenei, and then they have small, dainty feet. And that as the exact beings that were using this path.
I was about to turn around and go back as I remembered the talk in Blood Watch that someone had heard something about there being a Sunhawk spy outpost near Blood Watch. This must be it. I stopped, now very cautious. I noticed the well trodden path now I had passed some distance from the normal roads. I saw lots of broken crystals up ahead, surely more wreckage form the Exodar. But they were stood on their ends, connected by a luminous, chainlike substance. I carefully left the path, and went around to scout from the other side. The camp seemed almost deserted, four or five crystal structures stood at irregular intervals, but it seemed they were guarded only by two inexperienced looking youngsters. I stayed and watched them for half an hour almost, but nothing happened. No new guards came down the path. It seemed an ideal opportunity for an attack. I carefully went through the underbrush until I was behind the two youngsters. They had relaxed, talking and joking with one another. It must be nearing the end of their shift, and they had relaxed their normal vigilance, tasting the soon to come relief.
I sprang into action, Screaming like a madman, I jumped out from behind the bushes and stunned one of the guards before he even knew what hit him. I was not necessary out to kill, even though Sunhawks were evil, those two seemed so young and innocent. The other youngster came at me with his sword, screaming insults - or maybe orders - at me in Thalassian. My grip of that language was unfortunately not good, and I did not understand one word of this. But I understood his swordplay, inefficient and slow. I had no trouble besting him without hurting him.
I then gagged and trussed both youngsters with their own ropes, pulled them away form the camp, and threw a greenish camouflage blanket over them, which I found were they had been posted. It would not hurt them, except from their dignity, to stew for some time before they were found. I then methodically searched the camp, and found a smallish chest like the ones missives are transported in. I broke the locking mechanism, and took all the papers inside the chest. I did not find any more, but I heard steps coming from the path, so I made myself disappear in the general direction of Blood Watch.
Upon my return, I gave the Sunhawk’s papers to Vindicator Boron. He gave the papers one short look, and passed them back to me. “This is written in Thalassian I think. Please bring them to Elysia, so that she might have a go on translating them.” As my Thalassian was limited to a few phrases, mostly insults and swear words, I had no chance to see if he was right. I took them over to Elysia immediately. She said that it was indeed Thalassian, and promised to treat them urgently. I looked at the wad of papers and told her I would return later.
I took a long soak in my tub, oh the luxury, and got hold of some of Lycaeon’s delicious food. That man might be a poor hunter, but he is one good cook! The next days I spent repairing my mail, it was rather frayed already, and I’m afraid I have not quite stopped growing yet.
In-game notes: Levels 15-17
lørdag den 25. november 2017
The Tales of Rusty - 5
The Princess of the Stillpines
A few days later, I was ready to keep my promise to the Princess. I crept througt the buhes, and stopped, as the camp came in sigth. My heart almost stopped as I saw two perimeter guards behind me. I almost melted into the ground and held my beath. I stood still until the guards had left, and my ragged breathing became normal again. I sneaked forwards, out of reach of the gurads and watched the camp, but detected no unusual activity. The guards walked the perimeter and inside the camp quite usual activities were going on. The only thing that gave me an idea that it was chieftain Bristlelimb’s camp, was the great number of shamans hanging around. From what they said, praise the Naaru and Arugoo for my fluency in Furbolg, I understood that he was nursing a hangover in his hut. Nothing could have sounded sweeter. I sneaked up behind a guard and after a short, intense fight, he bit the grass. Their guards were not formidable for a chieftain’s camp. I was able to lay out three of them cold before anybody noticed anything.
A couple of shamans tried to surprise me with their fireballs, but I am tough in that respect, so almost no harm dome there. Also I was able to stun them most of the time when they started on their strange gestures and chants. The only real bad surprise were their totems. Vicious little things, that grew up from the ground and spat fire at me. But a single broad sweep of my blade mostly made them tumble, so I made my way to the middle of the camp before Bristlepine high chief woke. As I had heard, he was in a bad way. He squinted in the sun’s sharp glare, and had trouble co-ordinating. Shortly I pitied him, but then my mind went to the princess and to Arugoo, my teacher in Furbolg back in Azure Watch, who also had suffered in the hands of the Bristlelimbs. I decided the most practical thing was knocking him out, and this migth also be the way leading to lesser trouble with the Bristlelimb furbolgs, I hammered the butt of my sword into his skull and he staggered. He must have a hard nogging for he even then tried to maul me with his paws and succeeded in making some long scratches along my legs. I gave him one more, and as he fell, I gave him one more for good measure.
The key was in his pouch belt together with some other stuff and another cheese! I hurried back to the Princess’s cage. Their guards were as sloppy there as in the rest of the camp. So I cut a clear path also for the Princess, and opened the cage. She told me to tell ambassador Frasaboo what had happened. I don’t know where the princess went, but she was armed with a giant staff, so I had no worries for her safety.
Then I took my weary self to Stillpine Hold where I was greeted with gratitude. Gurf received the pouch with an expression of disbelieving thankfulness. He opened the pouch without the slightest shyness and tried to put the patch back in place. I hid a smile with a yawn and accepted some coins and a new pair of pants, he just had the smith finish. I stayed in the Stillpine camp until their shamans were satisfied that my legs were healed again, I even got to see them stitching poor Gurf’s skin back in place.
In-game notes: Levels 12-15.
A few days later, I was ready to keep my promise to the Princess. I crept througt the buhes, and stopped, as the camp came in sigth. My heart almost stopped as I saw two perimeter guards behind me. I almost melted into the ground and held my beath. I stood still until the guards had left, and my ragged breathing became normal again. I sneaked forwards, out of reach of the gurads and watched the camp, but detected no unusual activity. The guards walked the perimeter and inside the camp quite usual activities were going on. The only thing that gave me an idea that it was chieftain Bristlelimb’s camp, was the great number of shamans hanging around. From what they said, praise the Naaru and Arugoo for my fluency in Furbolg, I understood that he was nursing a hangover in his hut. Nothing could have sounded sweeter. I sneaked up behind a guard and after a short, intense fight, he bit the grass. Their guards were not formidable for a chieftain’s camp. I was able to lay out three of them cold before anybody noticed anything.
A couple of shamans tried to surprise me with their fireballs, but I am tough in that respect, so almost no harm dome there. Also I was able to stun them most of the time when they started on their strange gestures and chants. The only real bad surprise were their totems. Vicious little things, that grew up from the ground and spat fire at me. But a single broad sweep of my blade mostly made them tumble, so I made my way to the middle of the camp before Bristlepine high chief woke. As I had heard, he was in a bad way. He squinted in the sun’s sharp glare, and had trouble co-ordinating. Shortly I pitied him, but then my mind went to the princess and to Arugoo, my teacher in Furbolg back in Azure Watch, who also had suffered in the hands of the Bristlelimbs. I decided the most practical thing was knocking him out, and this migth also be the way leading to lesser trouble with the Bristlelimb furbolgs, I hammered the butt of my sword into his skull and he staggered. He must have a hard nogging for he even then tried to maul me with his paws and succeeded in making some long scratches along my legs. I gave him one more, and as he fell, I gave him one more for good measure.
The key was in his pouch belt together with some other stuff and another cheese! I hurried back to the Princess’s cage. Their guards were as sloppy there as in the rest of the camp. So I cut a clear path also for the Princess, and opened the cage. She told me to tell ambassador Frasaboo what had happened. I don’t know where the princess went, but she was armed with a giant staff, so I had no worries for her safety.
Freeing the Princess. She's a mean figther. |
Then I took my weary self to Stillpine Hold where I was greeted with gratitude. Gurf received the pouch with an expression of disbelieving thankfulness. He opened the pouch without the slightest shyness and tried to put the patch back in place. I hid a smile with a yawn and accepted some coins and a new pair of pants, he just had the smith finish. I stayed in the Stillpine camp until their shamans were satisfied that my legs were healed again, I even got to see them stitching poor Gurf’s skin back in place.
In-game notes: Levels 12-15.
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