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Undead Follies Chapter 7
Story by Koss_Knights ( aka Magical_Cow[GK] ).
The Final Chapter: The Night Elves do Battle with the Undead
The tides of battle have finally come. The virtuous night elves will soon collide head-on with the insidious undead heroes. A mighty war is coming, and this will be the prequel to years of bloody conflict. Even the most battle hardened Death Knight will shiver at the prospect of fighting so many battles, which are yet to be orchestrated . The Night Elves will not stand for the slaughter that will incase the continent of Azeroth, for they are the defenders of the forest, and of the creatures that dwell within them. They, as the Undead, hunt in the night, and strike from the shadows with deadly quick precision. The forest is dark now. The time is ripe for both sides to start the great conflict that will ensnare all races in its steely claws, not letting go until all but one side stands atop the corpses of a dead world, not triumphant, but not truly defeated…the war won’t let go until a nowhere race is left…with no destiny, no hope, no future…
Priestess of the Moon: Let’s all give the Keeper of the Grove a big hand. He’s the moron who delayed us so heavily, the undead had enough time to set up an encampment.
Keeper of the Grove: It’s not that bad. We’re only looking at about a legion of Undead. Once we encounter the Undead forces with our small band of rookie huntresses, and untrustworthy archers, they’ll surely be forced to retreat.
Priestess of the Moon: …You don’t listen to what you’re saying when you talk, do you?
Keeper of the Grove: I assure you; I have no idea what I’m talking about almost every time I open my mouth.
Priestess of the Moon: Well, your amazing reinforcements of convicts you call huntresses and archers, which no doubt you freed from the nearby Wardens prison while she was out hunting game, will be an invaluable meat shield for when I cast Starfall.
Rookie Huntress: …meat shield? Er, that wasn’t in the job description. The Keeper specifically said that we were to stab the Priestess of the Moon in the back, tie the Demon Hunter to a tree, and town portal to Kalimdor where the Keeper would make up a story about us having a brave battle in Azeroth, but being forced to retreat when flying Doom Guards came swooping down, killing the Priestess of the Moon and sitting on the Demon Hunter.
Rookie Huntress 2: That’s right! There was nothing in the contract about us having to be a meat shield.
Keeper of the Grove: Eh, heh. My, these women certainly have overactive imaginations, don’t they? Ahem.
The small band of huntress and archer convicts turn toward the direction their prison lays.
Rookie Archer: We don’t get paid enough for this. I’m going back to jail; at least we get fed there. This moron wants us to eat flowers and ginseng.
Priestess of the Moon: So, you plotted to kill me! Guess what old friend?
The Keeper of the Grove was cowering behind a tree, when he hears the word “friend.” He comes out of his hiding place cautiously.
Keeper of the Grove: F-F-F-Friend? Oh, I knew you’d understand! That well-thought out plot to kill you, which I fully intended to carry out until you figured it out, was just a harmless little joke! …Damn, I never watch what I say, do I?
Priestess of the Moon: You’re such a brave warrior, so I think you should take the lead. Go on now! You’re the frontline! Good luck!
The Keeper of the Grove makes a notably loud whimper, only to be met with chuckles and snickers from the Priestess’s elite sentries.
With the mighty Keeper of the Grove, who cowardly stole the Demon Hunters gems of health, increasing his own HP by 500, the Night Elf forces move onward, right past the almost resort hotel-like feel the blighted forest has. In this area, the heroes pass by golf games being played by necromancers, more tennis matches played by abominations, and the obsidian statues are serving up refreshing beverages, while the meat wagons throw rotted hamburgers into a crowd of cheering (although, their cheer seems a bit lifeless ) ghouls.
Elite Huntress: Priestess! The Demon Hunter has wandered off…again.
Priestess of the Moon: Where could he have gone this time around?
And in a nearby corpse garden where necromancers practice animating the dead, a lone demon hunter is harassing an unfortunate obsidian statue, whom is rooted to the spot, because the necromancers didn’t want it wandering away into the graveyard again…because it blended in with the coffins, and they needed:
Snoob! The Mana drink mostly preferred by all types of mages! Why do they prefer it? Because we paid them to! And if they refused the money, we beat them to within an inch of their lives, locked them in an airtight room, and forced them to drink our beverage until their mind snapped! Are you snoobing yet? (Surgeon Generals Warning: Snoobing may cause excessive damage to your liver, kidneys, bone marrow, blood cells, heart, hearing, and the ability to walk at access speeds of up to…1 mile per hour! Woosh!
Sponsored by: Smurf. The new chewy chocolate that sticks to your belly and implodes your intestine, turning you into a “walking zombie” of untold power. (“Untold power” tested on 89-year old grandmothers versus consumers. “Walking zombie” does not apply to all consumers, since you might lose your legs upon digestion.) Void In Northrend.
Also in association with: Gosu Happy Fun Action Ointment. Cures all unslightly burns, scrapes, scars, immolation disfigurements, water elemental bloating, the curse words that come out of your sons mouth when he loses a game in Warcraft III (apply into the mouth with a liberal amount.) and even cures polymorph. (Unless you use this ointment on a Sunday.) Gosu Happy Fun Action Ointment only available at select goblin shops, ointment will only work if it feels like it, may cause cancer, or a serious mutation of the liver, which turns it into a sentient being capable of rupturing your spleen with its newly acquired tentacle. Do not ask us how this happens, not backed up by the Lich King’s seal of approval, void everywhere but the place that secretly sells this item. Use as not directed.
…Hey, we all need money, so I added some advertisements in my story. Happy Halloween! Remember to look for these products when shopping for Trick or Treat candy! Now, back to the story…
Demon Hunter: Damn vending machine! I put 5 gold into the slot, now give me my drink!
Obsidian Statue, thinking: If only I wasn’t trapped in this damn statue! I can’t even talk! I hope he stops shoving gold down my throat. Oh, no…he’s trying to tip me into the mud again. I don’t deserve this torture…
Lich King, using telepathy: You are a great warrior…you can free me from this icy prison! Come, quick! Head to Northrend!
Obsidian Statue, thinking: You’re kidding right? Me, help you? You’re the one responsible for shoving me in this stone prison!
Lich King, using telepathy: Oops! You’re not Arthas? Damn, I really need to get Sprint. My calls are always garbled.
The Demon Hunter continues pounding away at the “vending machine”, until the Priestess finally finds him and drags him back to her armies’ current position. However, when she gets back…she finds her army is missing…and a rather flabbergasted Keeper of the Grove is there…rooted to the ground.
Priestess of the Moon: …Where’s my army?
Keeper of the Grove: Well…I…uh…ahem. I saw a group of ghouls…they surprised me, so I jumped up in the air, shrieked, and ordered your entire army to…uh…ahem. Retreat. Into the safety of our encampment. 100 miles away. Ahem.
Priestess of the Moon: What even possessed them to follow such an order?
Keeper of the Grove: I actually don’t know…
Dreadlord: Ahem. How are you folks? Doing well?
The 3 heroes, (well 2, the demon hunter is blind and looks the other way) look to the body of the voice, and behind that devilish dreadlord stands 20 mighty infernals.
Death Knight: It’s about time this imbecile did something right. Although I wonder how you managed to summon all those Infernals?
Dreadlord: Ah…magic?
The Dreadlord hastily shoves the advertisement into his pocket. Let’s take a gander at it:
An entire army blocking your path? Don’t have the time to summon 20 Infernals because you’re a failure at spell craft? Then order: Wands of Illusion! And see your one Infernal spilt into as many as you want! While the illusion Infernals can’t attack, they sure look pretty…and authentic.
Death Knight: That’s funny. Since when do Infernals have a “made in China” tag on them?
Dreadlord: Uh…since now? Since…they’re…not real.
The Dreadlord barely mumbles those last 2 words, yet the Priestess’s keen hearing catches them.
Priestess of the Moon: Those Infernals are all fake! Quickly, attack! They’ll dissipate after you hit them!
The 3 heroes (well, once again 2, since the Demon Hunter charges a nearby tree) attack the fake Infernals. All is well; the priestess has already killed 5 fake ones. As for the Keeper, 6. He’s feeling mighty confident now.
Keeper of the Grove: Ha! Here’s another one! Time to die!
The Keeper attacks the Infernal, who has his back turned to him, with his pretty little flower energy blast. But…the Infernal does not dissipate…it turns around and faces the Keeper.
Keeper of the Grove: Oh, crap! This ones real! Ahh!
The Infernal attacks the Keeper with a great molten fist, and sends the Keeper careening into a tree…the tree that the Demon Hunter is slashing relentlessly. He takes a blade right in the gut. Ouch.
Priestess of the Moon: It’s time for some searing arrows!
The Priestess takes out a searing arrow and…
Priestess of the Moon: Ouch! Hot, hot, hot! Damn, that Keeper must’ve rearranged my arrowheads so they stick up out of the pouch. That bastard.
Death Knight: These guys are even more bumbling than you! The Keepers been slashed by his own ally, the Priestess has 3rd degree burns on her fingers and…what the hell?! How’d you end up on the ground?
Dreadlord: I tripped over a stump. Ouch, my knee. I can’t go on, young death knight. If anything should happen to me, give this letter to the love of my life.
Death Knight: First off, this letter is a Blizzard catalog addressed to customer services, and secondly, you scraped your knee. I daresay that it’s not very fatal. Get up.
Demon Hunter: Damned undead! Staying still, are you? Yes, your wooden frames of undeath are no match for me!
Death Knight: Allow me to take care of the Keeper and the Demon Hunter. You take care of the lady.
Dreadlord: But of course!
The Dreadlord walks toward the Priestess, raises his hand, and…
Dreadlord: May I kiss your hand, dear Madame? Perhaps you’d like a tour of the local graveyard?
Death Knight: You moron, when I said “take care of her”, I meant kill her!
The Demon Hunter finally decides to stop attacking the tree, and turns toward the Death Knight, pinpointing his locale by use of his hearing.
Demon Hunter: Now it’s your turn, Death Knight! Feel the burn when I turn on: Immolation!
With that incantation, the Demon Hunter…sets himself on fire. Apparently someone hasn’t mastered the technique of setting the outer air around the body on fire. Instead, he did it on the body.
Demon Hunter: Mwahahahaha—oh, crap! Ah! Ah! AHHHHHHHH! Help me! I’m burning! Ahh! Stop, drop, and roll! Stop, drop, and roll! AHHH!
Priestess of the Moon: Use Mana Burn on yourself to lower your mana! This way, you’ll stop burning sooner.
Demon Hunter: Mana Burn!
FOOSH!
Demon Hunter: Oh, dear god no! WAAAA! IT BURNS, IT BURNS!
Priestess of the Moon: Oh, I get in now! Mana Burn . Ouch.
The Keeper of the Grove finally comes to, and seeing the Demon Hunter is in trouble, uses his ultimate.
Keeper of the Grove: Tranquility!
And so, a great tide of rain begins to drop upon the Demon Hunter…but…
FWOOOOOSHHHHH!
Demon Hunter: AGGGHHHHHHH! NO! NOOOOO! IT BURNS ALL THE MORE!
Keeper of the Grove: Damn it. Stupid air pollution caused me to summon acid rain. …oops.
Priestess of the Moon: We are surely doomed. I will send out a scout owl. Perhaps it will find a grand hero…who will be better prepared for battle against these monsters! Scout Owl!
Alas, the Night Elves have failed to stem the growth of the Undead in Azeroth. Now, along with Arthas’s betrayal, they are poised to take over Lordaeron. The two merciless machines of destruction annihilate the injured Night Elf heroes, one by one. Although, before they killed the Demon Hunter, they put little googly eyes on his blindfold. The Priestess did not wish to die at the hands of the Undead, so she shot herself with her own arrow, and was taken into the Altar for revival. Unfortunately, the Keeper of the Grove could not return into the Altar, for when his spirit was soaring up into the heavens, he got stuck in a tree. The Undead have destroyed the feeble Night Elf resistance, and will now do battle with the failing human alliance…
In the meantime, at the clearing with the dead horse…
Tauren Chieftain: Yes, I now know what I must do…I know how to rid myself of these evil demons that haunt me.
Moogle: Kupo!
Tauren Chieftain: Wah! Stay away from me, demon! I must become…a DEATH COW!
The Tauren Chieftain picks up the “skeleton” steed, and realizing it’s not animated, just slumps it onto his shoulders and begins traveling…toward his newfound allies…?
3 days later…
Dreadlord: Who’s that guy?
Death Knight: It looks like an old Tauren Chieftain wearing a death knight hood carrying…my…skeleton steed!
Dreadlord: The one that wasn’t animated, just dead?
Tauren Chieftain: Do not call me your enemy, nor a Tauren Chieftain…for I am now a….DEATH COW!
Dreadlord: Moo.
Death Cow: That’s my line! Taste my evil magical power! Cripple! !
Death Knight: Yes, you are. Well, the more the merrier I suppose…you can’t possibly be any worse than my demented friend here.
Dreadlord: Carrion Swarm!
However, due to being Holy Lighted early on, the Dreadlord fails to summon bats…instead he summons carrion…bunnies. And pigeons. Oh, and a beaver too.
Death Knight: Well, after that display, it’s official. The Death Cow stays.
What tangled webs the undead heroes have begun to weave! Their true mission has only begun! As has the undead’s star Death Knight, Arthas. Their mission is to destroy all of Azeroth, and turn the land into a harvesting ground for the ranks of the Undead armies! Now, with the Night Elves temporarily out of the picture, and with the orcs still trying to colonize the Great Barrens, only the Human Alliance stands in the way! Now, brave Archmages, drunken Mountain Kings, and proud Paladins of might and magic must stop the evil threat that, if not taken seriously, will consume them all! But first, they’re going to play some HumanCraft: The Reign of Programmers.
Paladin: Damn, that’s the second time I lost my level 5 Programmer of Procrastination.
Archmage: I’m just too 1337 for you. :P My Level 7 Greasy Fat Guy Holding a Keyboard and Swinging a Mouse owns you.
Paladin: They REALLY need to change the names on some of these heroes….and what’s 1337…? I’m bad at math.
Archmage: This is why you’ll never get your Bill Gates Icon. You’re just not leet enough…
Human Mischief! Series Premiere, coming at you soon…? Let’s hope so!