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Owl Odyssey

Episode 1 - The Acorn Contest

It was a dark and stormy night at the bar in Ratchet. A motley mix of creatures surrounded the counter, ordering drinks from the goblin who was all too eager to accept their copper. It was the kind of the dive that only the most desperate, lost, or foolish travelers visited, where the ale was surely watered down.

But there wasn't a building in Ratchet that any sensible person would visit. Where better than the run-down bar for the desperate Forsaken to buy his drink, wishing he had a tongue to taste it? Or the lost Tauren, waiting with her ticket for the next ferry out? But it was the foolish that comprised most of patrons, from a trio of young trolls looking for work, to the massive Tauren, longsword heavy on his back, his ticket to a job with the Venture Company. There was the Orc warlock, drinking quietly in the darkest corner, too frightened to face the might of Thrall in Orgrimmar with the rest of his brethren.

But most foolish of all, and making no effort for subtlety, was the young Orc huntress, sitting on a stool with her third glass of so-called Dwarven ale in hand. She kicked her feet as she balanced haphazardly on the chair, wrapped in piecemeal leathers and carrying two scythe-like blades at her side. A simple longbow was strung across her back, next to a quiver of slanted arrows.

None of that was strange, especially for Ratchet's only bar. Young folks of all races came there to waste their money. But there was something rather unusual about her, and the least drunk of the three trolls had to ask. "'Ey, mon. You theya, where'dja be gettin' a strange kitch like dat? Isn't one'a us who's seen a bird like dat 'round Durotar..."

Flapping noisily next to the huntress was a beautiful, grey owl, about the size of a watermelon with wings. The feathers formed tufts around its beak which gave it a strangely distinguished look, like one of the gentlemen from Gilneas, before they locked themselves away from the rest of the world.

Zuril spun around on the stool to face the three inquisitive trolls, and cackled heartily. "Aye, it'sa long story, and one started by drink, s'most good tales tend't be."

The troll's friend and partner chimed in, "You best be to tellin' it, den, mon. We got da time to wait."

She was not hesitant at all, jumping right into the tale, almost as if she had come to the bar specifically to tell it. Clearing her throat, the young Orc said, "Was sittin' back wit'ma trainin' partner Hidego, drinkin' up a storm - or leastways I was, an Hidego was's good a mate s'any ta be drinkin' wit. He don' drink much, but he were hittin' the voodoo perty hard that night'n accounta some bruises..."

Ears all around the bar perked up, most folks dying to be taken somewhere interesting, exciting, and adventurous. Anything to get just a little diversion from their own squalid lives. Even the warlock in the back listened.

"Anyway, he was talkin' neg-tiv 'bout my tamin' 'bilities, an' I gets to braggin (as were my wont), an' when as I'm drunk, I get stubborn. Said to Hidego, "You soon's name a pet as I'll go an' tame it - my word a honor!"

Zuril adopted a strange voice as she emulated her friend, saying "We'as gettin' carried away. He turn and say, cool as ice, "Ayj mon, din yi godsto be trinin' nja Darnassian Owl," speakin' troll, considren that's what he is. I were drinkin' harsh, so's I ran straight out da door, headin' for tha Night Elf capital city! Now, when I's drunk I can run especial fast, an' it weren't no time afore I was outta Durotar, runnin' north'n up toward Ashenvale. Round-bouts Astranaar I got a mind to swim stealth-like by, in the lake, so's I took mos' my clothes'n put em in my bags..."

Anyone who hadn't been listening to the story was listening now, imagining the young, fit Orc running around in her delicates, swimming by the careful watch of the Night Elf sentinels. Already skepticism crossed the face of many in the audience.

The huntress forged on with her story, ignoring the sideways looks. "Only thing is when I's done swimmin' by, I fresh forgot't pud'm back on, so there I was, running more'n half-naked up tha road to Darkshore, and nary'an elf'd seen me. T'weren't long afore Ashenvale was outta sight, only a few bruises worse'f tha wear."

Her first challenge came from the crowd, the down-on-his-luck undead gasping through rotting jaw to say, "There'sssss no way you made it through Ashenvale without being ssssspotted."

Zuril chuckled and nodded at the man, replying, "Sure as'ya sittin' there. I thought th'same thin, at th'time. They ain't all they cracked up, for sure. But I ain't made it much farther afore they seen me. Them night elves're thick as murlocs up'n the Darkshore, and a few gawked at't first glance'a a -real- woman, but I kept a'running. Now I's a strong swimmer, but drunk's a Pandaren I can't swim near'so well's one, so I hadda make use of their boat. They weren't sellin' no tickets to'a naked orc though, that much's plain! So's I took 'vantage of'm lack'o clothes for nother swim, inna ocean! I tell ya, I is nothin' if not stubborn, special'f I's drunk."

A few eyes doubted her, but no one wanted to interrupt, so she continued, grinning. "I swam 'screte upta the boat, swang'm trusty axe inna her hull, and hung on. None as much's saw me there, near's naked as a new elfy recruit, dragged through the cold sea ova to the giant tree-inna-sea. Almos' there, but my journey jus' beginnin. Ain't gonna be easy as a coupla swims."

The troll chimed in, "I 'magine it ain't."

"Finally, startin'a sober up, I sees the tree itself, and Rutheran. By the Warchief were it big! You cain't see near's tha top'a'it. But down bottom ways, seems the elves got a glowin' pink portal inna the city'a Darnassus, and I figga it's a better bet'n climbin' the blasted thing! So's I run careful long the sides't the portal, prayin' they too busy dancin't notice me."

The undead interrupted angrily, "Oh you aren't going to claim you ran into the cccccity unnoticcccced..."

Zuril shook her head at the rotting corpse. "T'was more'n a bit well-guarded! As'many as 6 of'm sent'nels come runnin' up fast's a worgen'n surround me! I knew I's in trouble, but at least I's wearing's much clothes's they were. I wish I coulda fought em'all off, but I's only in'm 10th season. So's I drop my weapons'n said, "Yield! I come in no harm. I mere's want to see this great tree (I knew as these night elves and they pride)!" They seem'd curious (p'raps 'bout my wom'nliness) and one by tha name of one Dionna Swiftrunner come ta tha front."

Without a pause, the green-skinned story-teller jumped into her most proper Elven, a bizarre mishmash of Orcish and Common that bore no resemblance to the actual language. "She say, "My name athwart is Dionna Swiftrunner of great Teldrassil. You are trespassing and are hereby sentenced to death!" A grim bunch they was. So's I knew they warn't gunna let me sight-see so easy, I hadda think quick's ta save my own skin!"

A new voice entered the fray, one filled with concern - the female tauren had been listening, rapt. "How in the Earthmother's name did you escape?" her ears flicked nervously.

"I's gettin' there!" Zuril protested, wanting to tell the story at her own pace. "Ain't no way I was beggin' and I was gunna get that owl, too, so I said ta her, "Mayhap a competition of skill would award me passage through the magnificent city, and a temporary reprieve." Only not near so pretty's that. They seem'd amused, so's I knew I had a shot."

The huntress took a quick drink to clear her throat, quoting in a high-pitched voice, "Dionna said, "And wherefore doth skill hath you propose, fair maiden?" an I wisht I could smack her one jus' fo the insult. I's as fair's a rabid thistle bear's behind! Knowin' they'd wanna one-sided contest, I said bold's ya like, "A test'a archry!" Guess I were still more'n a bit drunk."

The male tauren scoffed, "No man can match a Night Elf with a bow!"

Slapping her thighs, Zuril burst out, "Good thing I ain't a man, then! Now listen...they's laughin' high-pitched like a covey'a harpies cause arry'one'a them in at'least their 50th season, and I's sittin' there bold'sa titan with a tarnished longbow. Dionna said, "Very well, thou shall doth suggest the terms of the competition." Mind as quick's a...er...quillboar, I said ta'm, "We each tie'n acorn t'n arrow, and the one shoots it farthest wins." I figgur I gotta play to'n orc's strength. They agreed quick's a quillboar and couple'tha ninnies collect a'bushel'a acorns from which ta choose."

The crowd listened intently, none daring interrupt now. Every eye was on the delighted huntress and her unusual flying companion.

"Dionna gracefully commanded, "I shall go first, as such to display the skill and superiosity of the night elves." She deft tied s'small an acorn's she could fine, and aim down along the shore o'er near their hippogryph, fired, an' I knew I was lost. T'arrow flew from'r greatbow smooth's a silk bandage, landin' well past my tipcal 35 yards wit even'n acorn weigh'n it down. They turn't me, satisfy'f my death, but here I stand, so you know's much as I escaped. I went'ta select'n acorn, all eyes'n me."

There was absolute silence in the bar. Even the goblin bartender was listening, too distracted to notice that no one was buying drinks.

Zuril continued, "I choose tha biggest acorn I see, an though they chuckled, tied it tightly to my arrow. They knew's well as I I could'n out-range Dionna's shot. But I made ma bed'n now I'd gotta lie in it. I pull back'n tha bow as far's I can, and let that acorn fly...right inna tha sea! Plopped no more'n 15 yards outta sea, an I held my breath a moment afore I saw it start'a drift away. Caught a lucky tide, an tweren't more'n moment afore that acorn drift way outta sight. I said, "Looks's if my acorn went'a farthest."

There were gasps, and then surprised laughter. Even the warlock grinned. That skeptical undead said, "That wasssss sssssome quick thinking!"

Zuril smirked, saying, "Ne're seen Alliance as shocked as that day, but they honored tha agreement and 'scorted me roughly thro Darnassus, out the gates an inna the wild. But I warn't outta tha woods yet! Dionna say I've no less'n three hours afore they track me down'n kill me. Ain't no contest gunna save me this'a time."

The female Tauren flicked her tail, "And you found your owl, and used your magical hearthstone to escape?"

Zuril said, "Get ahold'a yo'self. Ain't there yet. I dinna waste any time. Inna tha forest I ran, hopin' ta find an owl and use my stone to get back to the Valley of Trials fo' a long nap. Turns' out it were more'n three hours, and it were also more'n two days! But I been talkin' your ears off, an better take a break to drink afore I lose my voice."

Despite groans from her eager audience, the young Orc turned around and drank deeply from her watered down ale. The rest of the tale would have to wait for later in the night.