Trick 'n' or da Treat'n

Still broke, but I found'n me some new diggs... kin still travel alls i want to, mon.  Can't let bein' broke break me spirit, ya know.  Trick or Treatin' be a nice way to take me mind offa t'ings, and put a little cash back in me pockets. 

And, let me buy some new pockets for dat matter...

Still be broke...

I still be da broken Troll wit' no pants, mon, but I be gettin' by.  Some of me mates sent me a pile o' leat'er to make me some britches and I got to sewin'.  Dat make me t'ink aboot dis Borean Leat'er dats comin' from da mammoths an worms up in Nort'rend... Hows come I can be sewin' t'ese t'ings without no t'read?  What kinda juju lets t'ese slabs o' skin stick toget'er, ya know?  An' t'ey t'ink I be smokin' too much o' da Ganja...

Even wit' no pants, a brudda can still get aroun'.  Macfeegle, one o' me brudda trolls, showed me da way to da Caverns o' Time to see da way t'ings used ta be, mon.  We walked down t'rough da Old Kingdom and Hillsbarad, and even stumbled on ol' T'rall when he was a t'umpin' Orc man instead o' da big boss.  He done got hisself locked up, so we busted him outa t'is place t'en when out to t'is bar wit' da SERIOUS brews a goin'... WOOO, I not been trashed like t'at in for never!  T'at T'rall sure know how to t'row 'em back, mon!  I woke up out in da cave da next mornin', and I couldn't find me pants!  T'en I realized, I din't wear none when I went down t'ere in da firs' place...

'Tis a sad day, mon

I no be postin' lately, cuz i no bein' able to travel since some no good, bad juju mut'a fuka robbed me o' my clothes and loot.  I don' even have me pants, mon!  How can a troll be 'spected to travel around da Nort'rend wit' no britches?  Feh, it breaks de heart, ya know... And to make da matters worse, Brewfest be over too, so I can' even drown out me sorrows in some o' dat Orc brew!

What dey be t'inkin'?

Dis mama be jacked up on da ganja when she named her baby boy, mon...

Here dere be Demons, mon

I took one o' me brudda's to Hellfire Citadel, o'er in da Outlands, mon.  Talk about your bad juju's!  There be a many and many rocks I've not over turned, dis bein' a tour guide be da way to go.  It can stress a brudda out, mon.  'Least I can samples da Voodoo tonics o' me brudda trolls... be keepin' a trolls sanity t'rough all a dis.  Took a goat ride to calm me nerves...

The Undead

Bal'a dash, malanore

After having taken control of the section of Auchindoun known at the Mana Tombs, I have unfortunately been waylaid in my attempts at domination of this realm.  Several attempts at taking over the old citadel have met with defeat.  I've found it to be terribly frustrating at the pool of individuals available to me for assistance with these ventures... Bah, it still galls me to be forced to rely on such incompetent assistance in the first place!

Today, however, provided a much needed alteration to my existing fortunes.  I included myself within a foray into a portion of Auchindoun that I took to be a crypt.  Legions of undead Draenei warriors, priests, monks and specimens in far less physical repair as to be unidentifiable met us upon entering.

Let it be known that I have never been friendly with the undead.  These are creatures that even I find to be despicable to the senses and an abomination to the natural order of things.  Demons HAVE a place in the order of things, albeit not in this dimension; but beings with the spark of life and consciousness removed, and later... 'reinserted' I guess is as good a term as any other... is just wrong to me.  I understand that I am forced to consider the Forsaken as allies, as some sort of special case; however, I state now and forever, that they will never be acceptable to me on any level.  They are totally beyond my ability to affect with most of my magics, and must be erradicated, period.

Once my 'companions' and I powered our way through the initial atrium, the rest of the zone was much more sparsely populated.  We travelled through the catacombs to an elaborate bridge over a depth uncountable, to a massive stairwell where we encountered an incredible beast my research had named "Shirrak the Dead Watcher."  Being of immeasurable intelligence, he apparently targeted the most deadly foe, me, immediately as I found myself mired in a psychic force that slowed my movements and casting ability.  Seeing an opportunity, I focused all of my will against the creature, showing him my that I was not one to be trifled with... allowing my thralls to ambush it from all sides and bring him down in swift order.  Note to self: minions have their uses.

After mopping up the Watcher, it was a short distance to a vast crypt where my nemesis awaited... but not before we were confronted with a veritable swarm of skeletal warriors and undead necromancers (feel the irony?) blocking our path to the lord of the tomb: Exarch Maladaar, a former Draenite Lord doomed to an eternal existence as an animate corpse.

"DESTROY THE INVADERS!"  his sepuclhural voice echoed throughout the massive tomb, and I knew we had our work laid out in front of us.  As my fear spells and shadow magic were of little effect againsts the masses of skeletal warriors, I fell back to my old standby... Fire.  Picking my targets, I burned down dark spellcaster after dark spellcaster, while my dominated minions protected my flanks from the undead.  We practically burrowed our way through the corpses until we stood before the master himself.  Demoralized, his army in ruins at his feet, Maladaar drew his burning staff and charged into us, spells and strength flailing for all he was worth.

All to no avail.  Maladaar fell to me just like the rest.  Was there any other possible outcome?

Sinu a'manore

P.S.  Approximately half-way through my conquest of the ancient ruin, I continue to hear rumors from home concerning a hidden northern continent.  Must investigate this at my earliest opportunity.

Da old country

Checkin' out summa da Old Country... dis place be nice mon...