The Village Forever

The first thing Blaedy did at the ruined arena was ask her friends to cast dice, which is how the Village Four—Blaedy, Summoneyy, Meho, and Arrowyy—put order to an evening expressly arranged for them to kill one another. Sensible people might have noticed the felguard waiting beside the warlock, or the hunter’s bat watching from the stones, and reconsidered. Blaedy merely smiled and announced the tournament. The ring would furnish duels, unarmed challenges, and several failures of dignity; before the gathering was done, a tavern would have trouble of its own to absorb. I recorded the matter faithfully, though faithfulness is not the same as endorsement.

Wed Oct 28 2026Summoneyy

Hats, Timeways, and Haaroon

Don Carlos in Gadgetzan still had his unusual hat. Once, he had defended it from every hot-blooded challenger who wanted it. Now his younger self was waiting in Old Hillsbrad. I took the job. The Caverns of Time had errands first. Andormu sent me along the timeway, and I found myself seven years behind with Thrall's escape keeping the whole world from coming apart. Small stakes. Erozion gave us incendiaries and told us about Taretha's diversion for Thrall. The Infinite had taken her. We would make the diversion happen again. At Durnholde Keep, I danced with someone before the fighting started. Then I pointed us at the work. “Pick up the bomb and talk to dragon.” Corruption and Immolate went onto the sentries. Rain of Fire caught a rifleman and sentry together. I called Haaroon, made a soulstone and healthstones, and put everything I had on Lieutenant Drake. He stayed down. The lodges burned. “{rt1} Questie: Internment Lodges Set Ablaze: 1/1 for Taretha's Diversion!” I handed the work to young Thrall and realized I had not started whatever came next. “Damn I missed it.” So we kept moving. Rain of Fire covered a mage, a warden, and veterans, and Captain Skarloc went down in the mess. At Tarren Mill, there was loot talk and somebody who did not speak English. I tried, “Hablas ingles domino?” Then I explained in Spanish that he would not need on the next item unless he thought he needed it. There was also an axe better than his level 60 epic. Important business, in the middle of saving history. Epoch Hunter fell too. “Thanks everyone.” I repaired my things and left with, “Adios! Buen suerte.” Back in Nagrand, I passed through Halaa and Sunspring to the Mag'hari Procession. Saurfang the Younger heard what had become of the missing war party. Elder Yorley heard about the procession. Two old worries put down. Saurfang wanted vengeance at Sunspring. Yorley wanted Warmaul broken for what it had done. I understood both jobs. Warmaul Hill was harder work. Haaroon and I found warlocks, brutes, and prisoners in cages. I kept giving him my health when he needed it. A Mountain Gronn gave up an eyeball on the way, which was useful, though not pleasant. One Warmaul Warlock got me. I came back. Haaroon was still there, and so was the work. We finished it: the last warlocks and brutes fell, and every Mag'har prisoner got free. The elders rewarded me with Manacles of Remembrance. Loot with a story is nicer. Then Yorley sent me after an ogre king named Cho'war. He has a head. I have time. I had the last things Nitrin the Learned needed: a flawless Greater Windroc beak, a gronn's eyeball, and blubber from an Aged Clefthoof. He could make his tincture, and he sent me after Levixus the Soul Caller and the Book of the Dead. That sounds like a proper problem. Later. Before I left, I found Kilrath on the Terokkar border and settled Jorin Deadeye's errand. Kilrath has a plan involving Boulderfist Invaders and beating Unkor the Ruthless until he talks. Another sensible use of force. Then I had to go. “gtg sorry. GL” The hat is still waiting in the past. Cho'war is still in his cave. Haaroon and I have plenty left.