Tiny Story Time: Mataoka's & Navimie's Friday Fished-Up Fables

We're up to our usual mischief once again! These may not be true 'fables' but all is fair in love and alliteration. Fridays will find our blog filled with the stories behind the coins fished from the fountains, and sewers, of Dalaran. Be careful what you wish for, dear readers! (I'll link Navi's as soon as it's posted. It is amazing!) These are the stories behind the wishes...

Squire Rowe

“A woman can keep many promises, but a man only one,” the witch mused to herself. Dopey, moony sheep-faced – that is how they all looked after she cast her spell.  So predictable. Rowe was no different, no different at all. Cersei poorly suppressed a giggle, and the goblin merchant overheard her, rolling his eyes in contempt. “Those warlocks…always doing shady deals which never pay out, not like my smarts, no sirree.”  Noticing the goblin looking smug in her direction, she shrugged her thin shoulders, twisting her narrow frame away from him. They carried on ignoring one another. Gods, it was deathly dull in this moldy swamp; couldn’t a girl find small things to amuse herself?

Returning to her own thoughts: the squire. Oh, those ridiculous glasses! All she had to do was get a little too close, and those silly things steamed up! “It was too easy, she’s smirked, “he was already at a disadvantage, not seeing things clearly.” His gullibility began as charming, and then it turned irritating. But…he did have that thick, black hair…and those deep blue eyes behind those glasses…even though she wasn’t sure he was too bright. Not like his captain, who saw her for what she was: a sorceress, and a bored one at that, potentially a greater threat than the enemy. The captain would send a few men on patrol, and the next morning there would be two sheep wondering around dazed. Or, a soldier would be playing cards, drinking and laughing one night, and the next staring at the moon, crying like a baby. Cersei believed the men existed for her entertainment: a few soldiers-turned-swine, drunk on jungle-vine wine; tawdry tricks, a quick seduction, whispers of undying love, and the fell onto their own swords of lust. There was nothing better to do, because gods know nothing ever happens in this place…

When the captain ascertained his men were turning into mindless, rutting rams, he decided to leave the Sorrows patrol, and replace the ranks with a squad of predominately female soldiers. Back to Stormwind, the deadest place in Azeroth. Cleaning a latrine or two would clear these gentlemen’s heads. Give them a few copper for spending money at the inns, and see that they get a good night sleep – that’ll set ‘em straight.

On the morning the troops headed back to Stormwind, Cersei watched from the mossy tower, trying to remain unseen. Her thin ribcage felt hollowed out. Of all the men she had tricked, transformed, and taken, only Squire Rowe turned around to look for her in the morning haze, until another soldier pushed him forward. He was the only one who looked back, and none other.

Navimie's: Stalvan's Copper Coin