Green Chili Burning....

Kellda! STOP! You are going the WRONG WAY

Mataoka came into  little bit of gold the other day, and apportioned 2.5k gold and paid for Kellda's library fines, prominently for Sealed Tome of the Lost Legion. Dang, that thing accrues monthly compounded interest! The first part of the quest chain is deceptively easy. Young leet druid sees that I am attempting this, and says it was one of the most difficult things he's ever done in game (he's played warlock since forever). So...discouraged? Disenfranchised? Discombobulated?! OH YES! I will fail a hundred times, and watch videos, but green fire shall be mine...

Warlock Green Fire Quest, Part 1/3
Warlock Green Fire Quest, Part 2/3
Warlock Green Fire Quest, Part 3/3

I need to watch these because I went into the Black Temple without finding the right Ms. Shadowbreaker, immediately establishing the derp-factor. I ended up going through Black Temple solo,  looking for her, but alas, only ended up getting my mascara runny and minions pissy with the council.

Cowl of Benevolence...sure! 

Kellda did end up with some fabulous priestly garb, which will be mogged henceforth to a "white witch" theme in the near future.

Theme song: La Verdad --Locos Por Juana (get your moves on....)

Postscript: I have no idea what I am doing.

Tiny Story Time: Caballo de Fuego

Her father kept horses, and his stables were renown in the Eastern Kingdoms. The breed line included sires and dams from King Terenas Menethil’s own field.

For her 13^th birthday, a chestnut gelding with a crimson bow was presented to her. She thought ‘Diablillo’ suited him well, but his breed lines dictated his name be Lucky's Hand Lady Jane Shadowfall of Darkshire. Her father ordered her to call him "Lucky." He was very strict in adhering to tradition, and maintaining order. Escarlata was furious. She knew the horse would never sire any of his own foals, so what did it matter? She called the horse "Lucky" when her father was in earshot, but gave him sugarcubes and whispered her secret name for him in the horse's ears. (The horse didn't care what she said, as long as the sugar kept coming.)

 

On the gaseous green hilltop, she stopped her midnight race. Her Felsteed reminded her of Diablillo, now long gone to the glue cauldrons. She decided not to name this one. It was spawn, like naming a fungus or toadstool. Soon he would be replaced, put to pasture. There was no point in getting attached. 

She missed her father, and regretted last words, the last angry words she spoke. He went to the dust and ash with a daughter's bitter voice in his ears. She wished he were there to see what she had become, after she had been undone by the Lady. What would he think of her Felsteed, and equestrian mastery? This mount was no little girl's gelding, and she had no fear.

Would he be proud of her? Or terrified?

The plague killed him. Ate out his organs, saving his sweet heart for dessert. He was not chosen to be among the Forsaken. When he fell, she was not the one to cannibalize him for survival at least. His body and bones were gone, she did remember that much. Perhaps the cook? The squire? She shrugged.


Her feelings of regret dissipated like candle smoke. Time to ride on.




Theme Song: Play Dead/Björk