Post by rothome on Dec 16, 2014 19:54:27 GMT
Bird is the Word
"Why da long face, mon?"
Griftah gazed quizically at the morose-looking Forsaken. He was reed-slender, tow-headed, and was clad in he most comically piecemeal collection of armor that the troll had ever seen. He was on the road from Silvermoon towards Undercity when he had spotted the undead astride the road in Silverpine. He was sitting on a rock, legs folded underneath him, chin resting on his hands.
Randy looked up, blinked, and touched his chin. It didn't seem to be any farther away from his face than it had been previously. Griftah saw the gesture and spoke. "Ah... figure of speech, mon. I be askin' why you lookin' so sad."
The Forsaken opened his mouth to speak, paused, sighed sadly, and muttered, "You wouldn't understand and you'd laugh at me."
The troll broke into an ear-to-ear grin. "Me? No, mon, Griftah won't be laughin' atcha. Tell dis old troll ya name, and what's troublin' ya."
"My name's Randy and... I'm sad because I can't plant a tree."
Griftah repeated the words slowly, trying to make sense of the nonsensical. "You... can't plant a tree."
Randy nodded emphatically and an explanation burst from him like water surging through a broken dam. "I bought a tree for Miss Mauviette and I can't get it to stand up straight on the island I gave her which shouldn't matter to her none 'cause she's dead and all, but it was real important to me but the tree wouldn't stand up, just kept falling over, and so I went and found a tree but it turned out to be a druid that just looked like one, and he got all sore when I tried to plant him, said druids planted trees and weren't supposed to be planted LIKE trees, which I didn't know, but then he also said I was an idiot, and that part I knew for sure, and now I'm sitting here thinking if druids are good with planting trees I should become a druid, and that tree would stand up straight as straight can be, but that druid told me dead people can't become them, and I asked why dead folks couldn't be druids when talking cows like him could, and then he punched me really hard in my face which cows aren't supposed to do, and I woke up and he was gone, and I thought maybe I'd dreamed it until I realized my nose had been knocked off my face and I had to go to the Undercity and get them to stitch on a new one, and at least this one isn't a carrot like the last one..."
At this point Randy lapsed into sullen silence, leaving Griftah with his mouth hanging open. He realized a few things at once. First, only a Forsaken could have uttered a single run-on sentence that long because they didn't need to breathe. Second, there was a sizeable hole in the undead's head, which might have some bearing on his obvious blend of total confusion and abject stupidity. And third, if this Forsaken adventurer owned islands and was giving them away to people, he was rich, and that meant Griftah was once again in the right place at the right time.
The troll con-man jumped into character. "Oh, mon, dose crazy cows - uh, dey be called Tauren by the way, which should know since dey be part o' da Horde, like us - anyway, he must not have been a druid. He gave you some bad information. Anyone can be a druid!"
Randy's face lit up and he began beaming. "REALLY? Anyone? Even idiots?"
"Oh, YA mon. ESPECIALLY idiots, dey make da BEST druids!"
Randy's smile vanished, and he looked suspicious. "How's that?"
"Uh... well... see, idiots, dey ain't got nothin' cluttering up dey brains, so there's plenty of room to learn druid-ry."
"OH WOW!" Randy leaped off the rock, barely able to contain his excitement. "I have to find someone who can teach me!"
Griftah gave the rotting sucker a smile. "Dis be your lucky day! Ol' Griftah - dat's me - I be da best druid trainer in all of Azeroth! But," he added, silencing Randy's incoming question with a finger to his lips, his tone becoming solemn, "Da ways of da druids... dey be all green and mysterious and smellin' like pine. I think. An' old Griftah, he can teach ya, but ya gotta do EVERYTHING I tell ya. You listen, you do what I say, and you be da best tree-plantin' druid in da history of... the history of EVER, mon."
With a heavy pouch of the Forsaken's coins resting comfortably on his hip, Griftah pointed to a nesting eagle in a nearby tree. The troll and his "apprentice" were hidden in the brush. "Now, mon," Griftah whispered dramatically, "we teach ya da first secret of bein' a druid. You gonna learn to change into animal shapes..."
Griftah smacked the undead upside the head. The eagle shifted on the tree limb but did not fly away. "SHHHH!' You gonna scare him away! Okay mon... so here's da secret to bein' a druid and changin' your form."
Randy was breathless with anticipation. And because he was dead.
The troll spoke sagely, his tone redolent with wisdom. "First, you gotta SEE da bird. Then... you gotta BE da bird. Bird is da word, mon!"
"See the bird... be the bird."
Griftah smiled. "Say it again."
"See the bird... be the bird."
Griftah smirked. "Right. Now mon, we gonna watch that bird real quiet here for a while. Look at da way his feathers are colored, look at how he move, how he blink his eyes, grabs da branch wit' his claws... everything. Let me know when you be thinkin' dat you got a handle on dat bird."
Randy watched the bird, focused in the most intense concentration he could muster. The two sat quietly except for Griftah counting Randy's coins. After a few minutes, Randy whispered, "I think I've got it."
"Dat was quick mon! See? All dat room in your skull, you learnin' quick! Now... next, you gonna practice turnin' into a bird while Griftah go to Undercity and get some... uh... druid trainin' supplies. You know, birdseed and stuff. Now," he said, pointing to the rock upon which he'd first seen Randy sitting, "here's what Griftah want you to do..."
Deathstalker Maltendis heard the noise as he walked down the road towards the Undercity. It was regular, emanating from the gloom ahead and just off to his left. The muttering of someone speaking, a loud thud, a pause, and then it repeated. He drew his jagged-tooth scimitar and edged forward, the flickering green light of his baleful eyes peering through the vanishing light of dusk.
He watched in complete bewilderment as he saw the Forsaken clamber to the top of a rock near the road. He solemnly intoned, "See the bird... BE the bird." He then flung himself facefirst into the ground, frantically flapping his arms as he fell. His nose was missing somewhere in the grass, and his face showed the he had clearly been at it for hours.
The assassin shook his head, sheathed his blade, and continued down the road. He was probably safer not asking.