Letters to Camp Packabuncha: Trouble

Dear Human:
I was wondering why you didn't respond to my last note, and subsequently sent out that Search and Rescue squad of Haanta and her "dragon," George the Tortoise, to come and find me, then I found the note had been folded up and used as a wedge under a teetering bar table like a matchbook. Gods, woman, you panic far too easily! All hell broke loose when Haanta got here -- the Dwarf Bros., (who were my gentlemen hosts for the evening), Kegger and Schmegger, smelled that damn Shiner Bock IN THE BOTTLES and before we could hit the "move here" spell she misdirected aggro to George, fired off five flares, and power-shot Kegger right in the shoulder, fortunately missing his collar bone, (or worse, his beard), and pinned him and his chain mail to the back wall. Yelling a war-cry to defend his brother, "Git yuuur dotty hands off me brother!" Schmegger tore off his shirt, exposing his tats, including an unfortunate one about "Death to Goblin Scum!" which set off a particular Goblin waitress named Rosie Goldsnatch, who then broke a beer bottle over his head and threatened to 'remove the tattoo the hard way.' Schmeggle appeared both smitten and bloodlusting over her attack (for what male Dwarf doesn't love a woman who can handle a shank?) let his defenses down and she cut him, meanwhile Keggle is hollaring to bring him one of those Bocks and get him down off the bloody wall, or bring him two Bocks and leave him hanging, or something, Rosie drops the bottle and ties up the wound with a dirty bar rag, and Schmeggle, all moony-eyed declares his ever-lasting devotion to Rosie, and they went off to Goldshire. Haanta found her way over to a private booth to dance with a hot Elf chick or two (you know hunters and druids: when nature calls, it must be answered, no matter who dials the phone), and now I'm sitting here babysitting a confused tortoise and not sure where my next round is coming from.

Human, I appreciate all you do for me, truly.  Let's be honest: we both needed a break from one another, and sometimes you can be a bit micro-managing.You only have one more full day in Texas, and from what I have heard from the others you've had a great time. You got to see a show, Wicked, with amazing steam-punk costuming and sets, and I know you read the book years ago and loved it; you've been to Guero's Mexican restaurant and bought goodies at Tesoro's, your favorite store in Austin. I know CD Rogue got a little mad at you last night when you told him you had a doctor appointment for your tummy issues next week, and he seemed to think you needed to go to urgent care immediately. Urgent care in the sticks of Texas is not the same as it is at home, and I know you'll be fine. Work and life builds up, the stresses get to be too much, and you want to escape to Azeroth to take your mind off it all. But remember, Human, you had a week without us, and we were just fine, and so were you. Let me drop some healing rain down on your head, sweet lady, and quit worrying so much. It only upsets you, and confuses tortoises. We don't want confused reptiles, now do we? No. No we don't.

Now I'm going to cut Kegger down off the wall, and leave a good tip for Rosie. Haanta's on her own.

See you soon, chica - bring more Bock if you can. (Although, it's probably not gluten-free...)

Matty

Letters from Camp Packabuncha, Texas

Dearest Kellda:
Kellda, Kellda - didn't we discuss this before I left? This "send lawyers, guns, and money" theme is getting tiresome. I am not in a place where I can install a new glyph or change your talents around, so please be patient. I can, however, send along this Staff of Bonking. No, not THAT kind of bonking, (though that does relieve stress, too), but if you need to give Voidwalker a swift kick, he'll mutter something about being hungry and filling a void and you'll be all set. Relax, my dear --plenty of time to go hunt for shards upon my return.

Yours in trusting faith--
Human

Salutations Zep:
You're very good at multitasking Miss Z- why not sweetly ask Senor if he can help clean out the guild bank? I can anticipate your concerns, but have no worries - last I heard his rogue was being chased by crocolisks in Booty Bay (something about mistaking him for a small chicken dinner) and the mage is trying out Ancient portals or some-such nonsense. Why not take this opportunity to clean out your wardrobe, and consider getting some new PvP gear so you might have a chance at those two battles you need? Anyway, don't get your mana in a twist, all will be well soon.

Blessings,
Human

Dear Haanta:
Enclosed please find 20 frozen long-horn free-range fed beefsteaks and 20 lbs. of Kreuz' Market sausage, and a case of Shiner Bock.
Enjoy -
Human
PS Don't tell the Dwarfs.

Dear Momo:
As you can see I finished your story, and gave it an ambiguous ending so now no one knows what to say. I am a sh*tty writer, but working on it. Anyway-- you and the druid in the story live almost happily ever after. You're welcome.

Meant to tell you before I left with the new leaf laws in Washington and Colorado you may become a very popular druid - be careful. The definition of 'herbalist' is changing, and I don't want you to be in the wrong zones. 

Love,
Human
PS I caution you to stay away from both the warlock and the priest. Have you heard from the shaman recently?

Dear Ceniza:
Stay tough, girl. What dailies do not kill us only make us stronger.
Human



And ladies, why didn't I know about this? http://wow.joystiq.com/2014/02/19/five-recommendations-from-the-first-fanfiction-challenge-thread/

Letters to Camp Packabuncha, Texas

Dear Human:
When are you coming back? I mean, I don't want to alarm you or anything, but that warlock, well, her voidwalker got into a bit of a pickle with the local magistrate's daughter, and the guild bank is collecting dust. Sure, it's fine that my cloth cool-downs go to waste, and that my progression to get MY pretty wings from the dragon-boy are held up by the fact I can't pound my halo against PvP, but sure, sure...you have your fun, okay? Don't worry about a thing.
Love,
Zeptepi
PS Can you bring back some of those heavenly pecan cookies? They go right to my hips, but these robes are pretty forgiving...

PPS Send bail money.

Dear Human:
Seriously, you're getting on my last nerve. I'm way out here with these walrus men, and though they're kind, their breath smells like blackened harp seal and I'm sick of picking up wolverine poop or whatever the hell those things are. I am constantly trying to set the tents on fire just to keep warm. I've got a mogging contest to go to, and stuck out here trying to get a damn fishing pole is a waste of my time and talents. I heard there might be an opening on a raid team for a mage, and I need to get ready!
Get your ass home,
Ceniza
PS I mean it.

Dear Human,
I am so jealous--you're out there in big game country--lots of TeaParticus Ruinious Countrious, and  Ignoramious Selfrighteousness - they are so common where you are, the US Department of Fish & Game PAYS hunters to thin out their herds! But whatever, we're cool. George and I will just hang out here on the isle till you get back. Hope you didn't park my tail by a Yongul. That's on you, human.
Love and ammo,
Haanta

(No politicians were harmed, promise.)

Dear Human,
Hope you're having a wonderful time! I'm cooling my hooves at the Brawler's Guild -- so many nice Dwarf gentlemen buying me drinks, having a laugh. I've made a bit of gold betting on 'sure things.' The Dwarfs don't tell me much, but those sweet gnomes are quick to impress me with their inside knowledge. So darling! Am really missing Flex and possibly a Normal this week, and not sure anyone else but me cares, but hey, no worries. Oh, here comes the waiter with another round..see you soon!
Love and kisses,
Matty

Dear Human,
I know that Zeptepi wrote you and is whining about her wings, but don't forget about me, too! Those legendary cloaks don't grow on treants, you know! Oh well, I know you needed to go. Just, one favor okay? Please finish that story, please? You know I love you most of all.
Momo

Dear Human,
Send bail money.
Now.
Kellda