The Misadventures of Mezzick
Little lost Tauren
To’al hid his face as he began to smirk, turning away from the group and running after the kodo. After a few long strides his massive stature was up to full speed and already closing in. He couldn’t figure out what was making him smile so much, but he did know that until he figured it out he needed some distance from the tiny one.
The two Orcs loomed over Mezzick, “Here,” called Tumack, “Take this,” clopping the broken wheel around his neck.
Mezzick made a squeal of protest, but stopped short to look at his surroundings. The Barrens was true to its name, sun parched earth bleached in all directions was occasionally interrupted by a few scattered small mountains. The cart was missing a wheel and sideways but seems to have maintained most of its structural integrity, pointing at the it, “Push that back over, get me a fulcrum, don’t load any supplies till I’m done, untangle the reins, and get me some bloody shade!”
The Orcs obediently set to work. If there was one nice thing about Orcs it was their work ethic. A just-tell-me-what-to-do attitude, maybe this is why they make such good peons. The Orcs made some grunts of displeasure, but the thought of being responsible for the broken axle made them swallow their pride. They both took the opportunity to take a break when Mezzick grunted to himself, “hmmf.”
“The wheel was damaged, but not that bad-- It’s the axle that snapped. and there is no way a couple of braces and nails will keep this wagon rolling with something like a Tauren on board.” Mezzick sighed. This heat was killing his ability to think. “Where is that shade!” he snapped.
The Orcs began to mill about again. One began to load the other up with boxes. “All these dammed supplies and not one wheelbarrow.” Tumack spat.
“That’s IT!” Mezzick’s eureka moment startled the Orcs.
To’al had chased down the troublesome kodo until he had only a small inkling of where the cart was with his friends. Being out in the open was dangerous in the Barrens but the mountain they were approaching put him more at ease. He looked back at the tiny spec where his troupe was taking in a long sigh. “What had happened back there?” Tauren were not a touchy society. The soft nuzzle of his mother was last felt at the tender age of 7, when he started his training. The tribes typically initiate their kids into the specialty of their ancestors right as they start to experience puberty. Once transformed, in both ways they come back, treated like warriors, hunters or shaman. A few gifted individuals will leave their ancestral training grounds to join more suited ones. They were traditional, but no one was going to stop a shaman from speaking with the spirits.
He remembered the feeling of Mezzick in his arms, so fragile and shaking like a twig. It was, for lack of a better word, cute. He knew he would be given the option to courtship offering, and he knew he liked girls. But Tauren female were strong and capable, admirable; Mezzick however was afraid and in need. To’al smiled again thinking about how Mezzick looked up after the worst of the accident had passed, secure in knowing he could use To’al as a step stool.
The kodo grunted, shaking To’al from his daze. It was calming down and was now quickly walking, but was still breaking into a run when To’al approached. The Tauren was content following him, but by the time they walked back the beast would be too tired to get the group to camp at the Crossroads. It turned a corner and was out of sight. To’al whispered, “Ancestors preserve me,” as he followed around cutting himself off from his view of the caravan.
To’al stood up to cautiously when a net flies over him. He quickly begins to grab his bow and arrows but his hands get tangled. A second later bolas catch him around the middle and the legs sweeping him off his feet. He fell hard.
“Good work, if I say so myself!” Mezzick claps the remaining dirt off his hands. The two Orcs in the shade give a half hearted hurrah. “Let’s see if it works!” Mezzick prods as he begins to fasten away the rest of his Goblin All-In-1-Der Belt.
“Why do it yet?” calls Murtock.
“The kodo isn’t back yet, let’s just wait,” seconds Tumack.
“Yeah, how long should it take for a Tauren to talk to beast?” Mezzick callously threw out.
“Tauren do not talk to beasts, a hunter stalks them.” Murtock corrected.
“Either way, time is money, we follow him then.”
The two Orc’s groan, Tumack adds, “and what money is this? I see no gold outside of this shade.”
“But when Garrosh sees that we wasted a day waiting I’m sure we will not be offered any new jobs, except as a warning on a pike to those who do not give the Horde their all.” Mezzick chided.
The two thought a beheading would be a long shot, but they used to think that killing Cairne while keeping a standing Horde was a long shot. They shrugged and got up. Tipping the cart over as gently as they could, it fell with thud. Mezzick whisked himself underneath and began inspecting his handy work. The two Orcs began refilling the cart and, whether interested or not, heard a voice from underneath the cart. Mezzick cried out over the sporadic din of the boxes being slammed down, “The only down side is this wheel makes turning harder! But a tri-wheeled cart saved us time and parts! If it happens again we have a spare!”
“He just likes to hear himself talk” Tumack whispered. Murtock chuckled.
Mezzick made the faintest attempt to pretend he was inspecting the wheel hopeing to get out of lifting boxes. He eventually scurried out as the last of the supplies were piled in. “Did anyone see where To’al had ran to?”
Tumack raised an arm to a mountain further off, “there, I think.”
Murtock nodded, “It wasn’t more east, it was definitely south of here.”
Mezzick concluded, “well if its south, let’s at least make our way to that mountain we can use it as a look out. We don’t want to be caught by Centaurs.”
To’al awoke, tied to a pole, in the middle of a ring of tents. The fire was so close it irritated his fur. Gasping he looked around to see his armor was missing. The noise caused a couple of Centaurs to rouse. They strolled up to him grabbing a white hot poker from the fire, “Filthy beast, taking from our lands AGAIN!?”