Mugrir's Bad Weekend (Choose your Own Adventure!)

[uthas]

B

I love this.

[Kyraine]

B

[Takani]

B

[Mugrir]

((With a 9 to 1 vote for B, Mugrir attempts to talk his way out of this one!))


Part Three: Advantages of Technology

"Look... I think we might 'ave gotten off te a bad start." Mugrir tried to smile, an effort that for all intents and purposes made him look more bizarre and frightening, instead of friendly. The goblin narrowed its beady eyes.

"Are you really going to try and make me think we are friends, friend?" The green-skin narrowed his eyes, and held up the stick-device again. It was still humming... and now as an added bonus, had bright white sparks lining the tips.

"Ah, I'm jes' sayin'... friend, that there might be a better way o' doin' this."

"Like what, huh?"

"...I could bribe ye."

"..We have you in a cage."

"Aye, but... I do have other... riches. Ye know, things stored away..."

"You mean, in the bank."

"...Aye."

"Oh, well don't worry - we took care of that."

"Well, if ye donnae want me stored away treasures, ye... wait, whot?"

The goblin licked its lips. "You aren't very bright are ya?"

"Ye can't git my things, ye aren't even a ruddy dwarf, bloody idjit."

Mugrir's jailor smiled wickedly. "That's the benefit of working with dwarves, friend."

The red-haired dwarf's blood ran cold a moment. "Yer workin' fer someone... ye... oh shite, no." He grimaced and shut his eyes a moment, actively focusing for the song. Fingertips turned to rock, bunched muscle to boulders. Just a little longer... he could feel the heat, the forge in which his race was made

"Well, its been fun talking with you." The goblin shrugged, the whirring noise coming from its weapon increasing. "Sleep tight, Boomstick."

Mugrir looked up just in time to see the buzzing stick activate, the tips erupting in bright sparks as it touched the bars of the cage. Volts ran up and down the bars, bolts leaping back and forth across the cage, and quite often, through the dwarf trapped inside. He staggered back, the spirit of the song and runes disrupted. Mugrir's eyes rolled up into the back of his head, and he pitched backward, black overtaking him.

* * * *

The headache was back. At the very least, Mugrir contemplated, that meant he was still alive. The humming in the back of his head made it too uncomfortable to stay asleep besides. Grunting, he started to pick himself up from the ground, blinking his eyes rapidly, still seeing sparks instead of his surroundings. This... was starting to piss him off, greatly. He grabbed the back of his head, muttering to himself about which cliff in the entirety of Azeroth would be tall enough to toss that tazer-wielding maniac off of. He settled on the Thelsamaar Dam, for now.

He sat there in darkness for a few moments, squinting his eyes open and shut again, trying to make sense of everything. Goblins, working with dwarves? They always worked with the highest bidder Mugrir mused... the thieving bastards. The beer, the stand, all of it a damn scam. Now, he was locked away in some warehouse, waiting for... something. They had already robbed him blind, and now he was captured. Why? 'Sleep Tight, Boomstick' echoed in his head... the goblin must have seen his tabard as they took it off him... or, when he was at the dock...

The dwarf was interrupted by a surge of thrumming that ran through his skull. Mugrir grabbed at his head with both hands, swearing until a point of light caught his eye. The blue glimmers of light fragmented upward from the circular tattoo that was etched across his wrist and around his thumb. The seal of Norgannon... the thrumming, it wasn't a headache, not entirely. Part of it was power, surging into his veins - the song, it had been heard, and the spirits of Azeroth had answered, beginning to fill him with stone and fire. Mugrir hummed along with the singular pulse in his mind, deepening it, and the brown sigil of Khaz'Goroth flared to life upon his shoulder. Fingers became obsidian, veins became rivers of liquid flame. He grit his teeth, the hum still coming forth, in it the sound of the forge spewing forth, of molten steel and hammer. He pitched forward, red-hot hands grabbing the metal of the bars. A brief hissing noise, and the power of the Makers won out over the poorly wrought prison. Drops of iron burned angrily through the wooden bottom of Mugrir's former prison, and he stepped out, stretching out to his full height, eyes blazing with flame before winking out, the runes falling silent. Still, the dwarf could hear the thrumming, and he focused on it, hoping that even in this state, with his gifts having gone unused for so long, he could call yet again on that which had saved him so many times.

He stepped down the piles of crates, and tuned his ears to the ceiling above him. They creaked and groaned with movement. Whoever was on the floor above him, they were obviously busy at the moment... or they had heard him. Mugrir balled his hand into a fist, wishing that he had had one of his rifles, or swords... or clothes. Cursing quickly, he realized rattled his brain to figure out how to tackle this one, still unsure of what was going on, why it was... or where he even was to begin with.


((Should Mugrir...

A - Rifle through the room he is in, looking for supplies, and clothes?

B - Escape the room he is in, to try and discover where he is and access his situation?

C - Attempt to set a trap, and subdue who comes to get him?

Votes are due by Saturday, 5 server time!))

[Itanya_blade]

c

[uthas]

a

[Bricu]

C

[Takani]

c

[Shaurria]

A. Because nekkid dwarf could be awkward.

C would follow (are we allowed multiple choices? O.o)

[Mugrir]

One vote per choice, sorry! And I do agree, nekkid dwarf is awkward.

Is A your final answer? *Jeopardy music kicks in*