Hearthpwn

Agent of O.O.Z.E.

Edna: Our first storyteller for the evening hails from Dalaran. Welcome the weapon merchant Kogan Cobaltfist and listen close as he shares with you some disturbing rumours about the sewers of the floating city.

Kogan: Oozes. As a weapon merchant you can be sure I know a lot about these bloody slimes. I've had countless patrons who walk away happy with their new Arcanite Reaper only to have it eaten by an Acidic Swamp Ooze when they go questing. then they come back and blame it on me. By the titans, protect your weapons, people! Have you never heard of a sheath, a bag, anything! Anyway, back to the story now.

Oozes love sewers. They are dark and damp and the slimes can just slide around all day, chasing rats. There's nothing bad in that, they even keep the sewers clean in most cities. However, Dalaran is not most cities. Failed potions seep down all sewer pipes. Arcane power vibrates the ground, all the way down to the sewers... oozes will eat anything, and usually survive it. However, when it comes to the mages' failed experiment, they don't come out the same afterwards...

There have been multiple strange reports recently. My patrons wake up and find their weapon sticky and greasy, and when they try to use it in combat it turns on them. The Dalaran infirmary is full of people with cuts from swords and light concussions from maces, inflicted to them not by enemies, but themselves. And all of their weapons felt sticky and greasy beforehand.

The lads from sewer maintenance have even stranger tales. More and more of the oozes they spot down there look disturbingly... human. They walk like us and look like us. Unlike regular oozes, they never attack directly. But they have been spotted carrying weapons...

Charged Typhoon

Edna:  And now the second one. Sissy Sparkplug, Junior Engineer, will tell us about the time gnomes tried to harness elementals for their power... and how it went terribly wrong.

Sissy: Coal is dirty. Oil is rare. Magic is fickle. So what should a self-respecting engineer use as a power source for their inventions? My teacher had a novel idea: harnessing the power of the storms. He wanted to capture an air elemental and by charging it up with energy to cause it to release that same energy magnified tenfold. In the end, he wished he had stuck to coal.

Finding an elemental wasn't easy. They can be aggressive and hard to catch, the servants of Al'Akir the Windlord especially elusive. Still, my professor paid some adventurers and soon it was brought to our lab- a captured and infuriated wind elemental, ready to burst any second. My teacher wasted no time. Quickly sealing the room with the elemental inside, he turned on his machine. Sparks flew as lightning arced from it to the elemental, the living storm growing bigger and brighter with every zap. Everything was going according to plan, the elemental couldn't hold this energy and would release it along with much, much more any second...

Except it didn't. Using the power we had provided with it, it launched one giant arc at our machine, completely melting it in the process. it then swirled around faster than the eye could see, ripping pieces from the walls as it did so. Me and the professor evacuated, and just in time. Behind us, the lab crumbled as the elemental used its power to destroy the ceiling and escape into the open again. I'm sticking to coal after that.

Cool Guy

Edna:  I am not certain what the next story we hear is going to be about. According to schedule, the topic will be a...

Cool Guy: Cool guy! Yeah, that's me! Just look at me, ladies, ain't I a sight for sore eyes. Everywhere I go, people just turn around to marvel at my roguish handsomeness, bumpring headfirst into trees because they're not looking where they are going. Once, I went to talk with Tyrande Whisperwind and dissuaded her from increasing Illidan Stormrage's sentence to 20 000 years. How's that for skills with the ladies?

Later, when I came back here, I saw everybody was super worried about some Arfus [/card] guy or something like that. Said that he was amassing an army in Northrend. Northrend is a pretty chill place, as you all know. A perfect place for a cool guy like me, so I went to visit Mr. Lich King, ask him what all the fuss was about. I have to tell you, the guy's a pretty chill dude. It takes one to know one, heh? Anyway, this [card]Arfus guy immeadiately saw my potential. "JOIN ME!" he said with his gruff voice, I think he had a cold or something. "Right back at ya." I replied as I signed up for his deadly knight training camp.

I have to tell you, the other candidates weren't really promising. There were a lot of random orcs who just kept summoning demons or swinging around axes. That's not the way, I told them, but they wouldn't listen, rambling about global domination and bloody bargains all the time. They didn't know that you can't be a good deadly knight if you ain't a chill dude.

Now, there were two very nice ladies out there in Northrend who spoke my language. They knew that if you want to rule, you gotta be cool. First one was my man King's own girl Frost Lich Jaina. She told me they were together ever since the guy was a Golden Foot Recruit or something like that. But lemme tell you something, she wasn't quite pleased with how things had been going lately. Arfus was becoming a bit like these orcs, wanting to just conquer and conquer. Why would you want to leave a chill place like Northrend, I asked her and she agreed. I told her to ditch the guy and last I heard of her, she got some dope Water Elementals and went back to Icecream Citadel to make him see reason. Hope nothing bad happened to these two, they were a really cool couple.

The other lady who shared my opinion was a lovely creature called Valeera the Hollow. From the moment I first laid my eyes on her I knew that woman had style...and stealth too apparently, because I couldn't see her half of the time. Still, I knew that this was the girl for me. We went on long walks through the chill frigid landscape, drank a lot of saronite margeritas, even went to Ulduar to take a look at the local sights. Things would have really worked out for us I think if it wasn't for this Tirion Fordring un-chill dude who came and just sabotaged the entire camp with his purifying.  He ruined everything!

(awkward and amazed silence fills the tavern)

Random patron: I'll have what he's having.

Blessing of Midas

Luis the Bard: Ooooh there lived once a king, happy as can be,

in the far far far away land of  Goldshire country.

His bread was white, his mead was nice,

but he was oh so cold like a block of ice.

Give me more, he said, more I want,

Make the peasants pay upfront!

I want to swim in gold and sleep in silk,

burgle fortune of all ilks!

A mage then heard this hard demand

and quick she thought of a clever plan.

She walked and stood in front the throne

the gilded chair the king sat on.

"I'll grant your wish, my liege, my king,

may golden turn then every thing

which your royal fingers touch.

In the end it will be too much!"

Rapidly the curse took hold

the greedy king with heart cold

turned all he touched to gold!

"Give and then give again,

until not a single Coin remains!

Only then will you be certain

that I have dropped the final curtain!"

quoth the mage before she left.

The king looked right, then left,

then desperate he cried:

"Give away, you'll find inside

my vaults many a full purse

go and rescue me from this curse!"

To this day still they hand out gold,

giving it to young and old.

Grab The Coin, and comprehend,

that this is this story's end!

Tunnel Frog

Amphibiologist Denara:  I don't need to remind you of the times troggs ruled over this tavern. Many games were won and lost when they hit the board, enabling you to convert drawback to advantage. I've come here to warn you of a new danger! Dark days might come to the tavern yet again... when frogs rule!

Random patron (incredulous): Frogs?

Denara:  Do not underestimate the amhibians! They are more cunning than they appear. They might look harmless, but wait until you swarm you, until every one of your minion is facing a Frog. Pray that these times don't come!

Sanders the Hungry

A. A. Limn: There once lived in a faraway forest far from orcs, elves and humans a bear. But it wasn't just any bear, this one was smarter than its brothers and even had a name. Sanders the Bear lived in the forest together with other smart animals like Igor the Donkey and Wiglet the Boar.

One day, while Sanders and Wiglet were taking a walk by the river, they found a mysterious yellow jar.

"Is it honey?" Sanders asked hopefully. The bear hadn't eaten since breakfast and his tummy was starting to rustle.

"It says "Paladin Spells" on the wrapping." Wiglet replied.

"Maybe it's a new brand." Sanders replied as he opened the jar and stuck his paw inside.

"Wait, Sanders, it doesn't sound like a brand of honey, what are you..." Wiglet tried to stop his friend, but it was too late. Once Sanders started sating his unsatiable appetite, he was unstoppable.

"Mmm, that Blessing of Kings was very tasty, maybe I'll add an Adaptation also... what about a Spikeridged Steed too?" Sanders mused while he gobbled up one spell after the other.

"Sound the Bells? Looks delicious too, must try it as well..."

"Wait, Sanders, that's an echo spell, it will never run out!" Wiglet tried to stop his friend, but in vain. Sanders just kept devouring one Sound the Bells after the other until he ran out of mana.... I mean stomach space.

"Great. now you're too big to move." Wiglet scoffed.

"We have to call Igor to silence you."

Steaming Giant

Timmy: I'll go first! Prepare for a story of blood and oil!

There was a war in Kalimdor. However, it wasn't a war between two nations, nor between two cities. This war took place in a city. For the city. Ever since the Cataclysm turned Gadgetzan into a profitable harbor, three different crime factions waged war on eachother, each aiming for the ultimate price- total control over Gadgetzan and its commerce.

The Grimy Goons were one of these gangs. Though their prospects looked good in the beggining, as the war went on they started losing more and more influence. Guns and pure physical strength were no match for Kazakus' potions or the Jade Lotus summoning larger and larger green men. Therefore, Don Han'Cho had to resort to new methods. He hired goblin engineers to build him a mechanical monstrosity, a Mech he would use to crush his opposition. The giant was larger than most Jade Golems, and the Don knew that if he surrounded it with line soldiers, it would also be safe from the Kabal's Mystic Wool.

However, not everything went according to plan. The goblins toiled over it for day and night. But on one faithful night, before the day when the machine was going to be ready, a hooded figure sneaked into the empty facility. It carefully moved up several flights of stairs until it reached the Mech's head.

"Oh, Goons, you will never learn." Kazakus gloated as he lowered his hood.

"Far more is at stake in Gadgetzan than money and power. For Murozond!" he announced as he poured a Potion of Madness into the machine's processor.

On the next day the engineers returned and after a few final touches, they turned the machine on. Red light shone through thr giant's visor. With its mighty grip, it grabbed its creators and hurled them into the wall. Then its used its mighty fists to bring the building around it down. The Goons outside opened fire, but the goblin engineers had done their job too well. What could firearms do to something which was designed to tackle Jade Golems? The poor lads had no chance. And all this time, a dragon watched them from behind the neighbouring building, grinning as he watched his work unfold. The Goons were out of the equation. Only the Lotus and the Pirates remained now. Only they stood between Kazakus and his goal- total dominance of the Infinite dragonflight.

They say that the giant still roams the city to this very day, surprising passersby for the last time in their lives. Citizens of Gadgetzan have come to fear its steam whistle even more than the groaning green men. For jade breaks and potions expire, but goblin inventions never catch rest.

Spooky Scarecrow

Spike:  Wow, that was a nice one, Timmy, not sure I'm gonna top it. Anyway, let me try.

There once was an old lady who lived all by herself in a house amidst the fields of Lordaeron. As her husband had passed away and her sons George and Karl had left for the capital, off to become a Silver Hand Recruits, she had nobody to help her with collecting the grain in her field. Settlers from the closeby village tried to persuade her to buy a Harvest Golem, but she refused.

"No, thank you. These darn mechs break all the time. Not even two seasons will pass and that golem will only be good for a scarecrow, and I have a pretty good one right now. Haven't seen a crow anywhere near my field."

Turns out, the crows were a lot smarter than the lady gave them credit for. There was a good reason to avoid her field.

One day the lady was returning home after a visit to one of her friends in the village. Rushing to get there before the sun set behind the horizon, she failed to notice the lonely pole that stood in the field, a pole where something had stood when she left that morning. The old lady was still oblivious when dusk settled and she reached for her door handle. Darkness awaited her inside her corridor. Along with something else.

Only when she lit the candle did she see it. Before she could shriek, an arm made of sticks spread out and a hand that was one of her old baking gloves, filled with straw, stuck to her mouth, preventing her from emitting any sound. The old tribal mask that her husband had brought home as an alleged souvenir from Zandalari tilted to the side. The last thing the old lady saw was the crack opening in the scarecrow's face, forming a crooked smile.

Bloodthirsty Lord

Johnny: Brr! Spike, do you want to get me to be afraid from scarecrows for the rest of my life or something? You got pretty close. Yet still... scarecrows? I guess I'm a bit old-fashioned, but I like the monsters in my stories a bit more... classy.

Few people know about it, but there is a hidden castle in Deadwind Pass. It's well hidden among the cliffs, so you have to keep your eyes open if you want to see it. Many adventurers have sought shelter there, and it's no wonder. The pass is dangerous, and the only other building in it is the haunted Kharazan tower- not a good place to spend the night, I'm sure we'll all agree. However, adventurers don't know that the castle is hardly safe either.

During the day, no harm will come to weary travellers. He sleeps during the day. The smarter among the travelling know that when the sun sets behind the horizon, they should have already left the castle behind their back. Nevertheless, many stay to spend the night. And that's when he feeds.

At first, he presents himself as a welcoming host, apologising he slept through the day due to sickness. He offers his guests a hearty meal and escorts them to their own personal chambers, to a bed with silk linen wide enough to fit three. He then leaves his guest to rest and the unwitting victim closes their eyes, not knowing that they will soon draw their dying breath.

The men he sucks dry completely. He then throws the shrivelled husks in Duskwood, where the hungry wolves finish them off. For women, however, he sometimes has another fate, should he take a liking to her appearance. No, he does not consume beauties. He just leaves them with a small prick in the neck and sips just one tiny gulp of their blood.

On the following morning, the girl feels ill. Her host is worried for her health and forbids her to leave for her own well-being. At first she resists, but as the days go on and her condition gets worse and worse, she is grateful she heeded his advice. Food doesn't sate her hunger, water doesn't sate her thrist. She grows thinner and paler by the hour, sunlight becoming unbearable for her. The day she first draws the curtains fully shut, he brings her a cup of wine- warm, red and thick. She realises what it is when it touches her lips, but instinct triumphs over mind. As the blood enters her, she feels invigorated and healed. However, the hunger is still there- diminished, but not quenched.

The girl then joins her host in his tomb. She lies in a coffin beside is. And every other night, she joins him in his feast, along with his other wives.

Hugo: It was a cold December day. A small dwarf girl crossed over from the frigid waste outside into the warm interior of a tavern. It wasn't this tavern, but one very similar to this still. The girl rushed to the hearth, spreading out her frozen hands to warm her fingers on the fire.

Reprimands caught her ear. She turned around and saw an old bard was sitting on one of the tables, along with his apprentice. The old man was angrily berating his trainee about something. Curious, Edna- for that small girl was indeed her- went closer to overhear the conversation.

"No success will come to you, boy, if you keep singing these old songs over and over again. People are bored with them, they've heard them a million times already! You have to sing new songs, you have to tell new stories, if you want the patrons to notice and put tips in your hat."

"You are wrong." rang Edna's clear voice, startling the old bard. Everyone around the two bards turned around, curious to see how the man would react. The singer smirked unpleasantly.

"What do you know of stories, girl?" he asked derisively.

"Enough to know that you're wrong. Old stories grow old for a reason. They have stood the test of time despite all the repetition, because they carry an important message at their core. Different bards may change the small details and that is alright, that keeps it fresh, but an old story will always be better than a new story. It has been passed down many generations, a gift of wisdom from our ancestors." the girl replied.

By now all the patrons of the tavern had gathered around, awed by the small girl's words. Nervous that the little dwarf's words could harm his reputation, the old bard decided to shut her up for good:

"Oh, is that so, young Miss Know-It-All? Prove it, then! I give you three old stories. First, the story of the girl with the red cloak who went to visit granny, but met a grisly fate at the paws of a big bad wolf. Second, the tale of the mermaid who fell in love with a land dweller and sold her voice to be with him. Third, the myth of the mighty hero, the alleged son of a titan, who fought against the lord of the Underowrld to save the soul of his loved one. Tell me these 3 tales and see if you gather as much gold as I did with my new stories!"

As he gloated, the old bard shook his bag full of coins between his fingers and dropped it on the table.

"If you win, you get my gold. If I win... well, I get your gold, though I suppose it won't be that much."

"I accept your challenge." Edna replied, the bard taken aback by the small smile that stood on her face.

The first story: Red, Mistress of Fire and Bigbad the Worgen

Edna:  There once lived in Gilneas a woodcutter and his wife. They had a small daughter, Red, who was the light of their life- first figuratively, but in the night she became 10- literally. The small girl had no idea what the bright sparks shooting from her fingertips meant, but her mother knew. The next time the Kirin'Tor passed through the city of Gilneas, she approached them and asked them to take her daugher under their wing, knowing that she was a mage. The Kirin'Tor tested the girl and recognised her potential, so they granted the mother's wish. Red was sad when she left the town of her childhood, the thought of leaving behind her mum, dad and granny, who lived in the Blackwald, weighing heavily on her heart. However, another thought uplifted her spirit and did not allow her to wallow in nostalgia- she was going to the amazing city of Dalaran to become a powerful mage.

2 years passed by. Red had now become a capable Sorcerer's Apprentice and progressed quickly under the guidance of her tutors, who marvelled at the skills they would never have expected from a 12-year old. However, as the school year neared to a close, worrying news reached the city of Dalaran. In an attempt to stop the invasion of the Forsaken in their lands, the gilnean Archmage, Arugal, had unleashed wolf-like monsters upon the world. The beasts had repelled the undead, but then had also turned on humans and were now laying siege to Gilneas, the town protected only by its strong walls. Worried for her family, Red quickly teleported to the street in front of her old house. She found her mother crying on the steps.

Red already knew why her mother was crying. After quickly scouting her home, she didn't notice her grandmother and father anywhere. They had been caught outside with the monsters, the "worgen" as her mother called them, when the gates had been closed. Red didn't listen to her mother, who kept trying to convince her to stay with her. She promised that everything was going to be OK as she returned to the street and teleported again, this time outside of the city walls.

The girl with the red cloak knew the way to her grandmother's house, so she hurried down it. She was not afraid for herself; her experience in Dalaran had made her more than capable of protecting herself. However, she feared for her grandma, who was old and defenseless. As she ran, she heard some noises coming from ahead of her. Wanting to avoid detection, Red quickly turned, choosing one of the longer alternative paths.

However, she didn't know that the noise had actually come from behind. A worgen had been tracking her. At the branching of the paths, the beast stopped and smelled the air. It now knew that his prey had walked down the narrower path. However, the worgen was cunning. It realised that the wider path would probably be the faster one, so it went down on all four and sprinted down it, wanting to ambush his prey.

Things didn't go according to plan for either girl or beast. They nearly bumped into eachother on the lawn in front of the grandmother's house. The beast leapt at her, its claws slashing dangerously close to her throat, but Red wasted no time either. She loosed a Fireball and sent the scorched beast flying across the lawn. Angered, the worgen reared its head and howled. Soon yellow eyes showed between the trees and more worgen came into the clearing. Red tried to keep them all at bay, but it was hopeless. The more Fireballs she had to cast, the less damage she dealt to the worgen, her energy quickly draining. As the beasts closed in, licking lips in anticipation, she put her faith in one last spell, the subject of her last exam.

(SWOOSH! Baaah.)

Red knew she didn't have much time. Cast on so many enemies at once, her Polymorph wasn't going to last too long. She rushed inside the hut, grabbed her grandmother, who had been waiting by the door with a big pan, by the hand and ran back outside. However, it was too late. The Sheep were starting to morph back. However, to Red's great surprise, they were morphing back into humans, not monsters. Familiar faces were starting to appear and soon Red's father stood before her, his scorch mark on the same spot she had blasted the first worgen. Smiling sheepishly to her dad, Red gathered all the people in the clearing and teleported- first to Gilneas, to also get her mother, then to Dalaran, getting away from the worgen and their curse before it spread to the people of her hometown.

The second story: Aria Seachild and Serula the Sea Witch

Thing from Below

Edna: Many believe that merfolk do not exist, that they are simply stories told by sailors and fishermen to joke on us, "landlubbers". However, merfolk, on the other hand, believe that landfolk exists and many of them are fascinated by us. I suppose that for them the land holds the same allure that the sea does for us, a symbol of freedom and endless possibilities.

Aria Seachild was no exception. The young mermaid was the most curious among her sisters when it came to land matters, often spending half of her day sunbathing on a rock sticking about the surface and watching the ships go by. One day, something terrible happened. A ship beautiful like no other Aria had ever seen stumbled upon underwater rocks. The wood bent and crushed and water flowed in, the ship slowly sinking.

When it had stopped moving and the place was safe the approach, the mermaid quickly swam over, neglecting the secrecy her kind lives in so that she could save the survivors. Most of them had gotten into boats and were rowing towards the shore already. One young sailor, however, was floating unconcious, obscured from the sight of the rest by the floating debris. Desperate, Aria took hold of him and swimmed towards shore with all the strength she could muster. She dragged him onto a beach in a bay adjacent to the one where his mates had come ashore and tried to bring life back into him. She pressed against his chest again and again, not sure if it was any help, the concept of drowning foreign to her. Just as she was losing hope, the sailor coughed up the seawater and sat up.

Aria saw that he was handome, but she also knew that she couldn't let the secret of her kind be revealed. Before the sailor could thank his saviour, the girl had returned to the sea, swimming to her home deep beneath the green waves. Nonetheless, in the coming days the image of his face never left her mind, not even in her sleep. She found herself thinking about going back to that beach in her every waking hour. Unable to stand the protests of her heart, she did the one thing her sisters had warned her to never do. She swam deep and deeper still, past the territories of the Coldlight murlocs and into the domains of the terrifying Queen Azshara. There, she found the Naga Sea Witch Serula, who offered her a bargain: Aria could trade her tail for legs, but she would have to pay a dear price- her voice would belong to Serula.

The mermaid didn't hesitate, much to the sea witch's pleasure. She drank the naga's potion and when she swam to the surface she felt sharp pain in her tail and her throat. Looking down, she saw not her green scales but two white legs kicking in the water beneath her. Aria tried to laugh, but no sound came out of her lips. Still, this did not disturb her as she swam to the beach. Once there, she scouted it for the sailor she had saved the previous day, but he was nowhere to be found. Aria also stumbled insecurely onto the next beach, but no sailors were there either. All that was left behind was the remains of their campfires.

Then the hideous Serula ascended to the surface and talked to Aria, mocking her with her own voice. The naga told her she had seen for herself how the other sailors had found their comrade the previous night. How they had gathered what goods were washed ashore before paddling away. How they had boarded another ship in a nearby harbor and had sailed off for the far land of Kalimdor. As tears welled up in the corners of Aria's eyes, the sea witch cackled, sounding unnatural with Aria's young and clear voice.

The mermaid sisters soon knew how their sister had been tricked. Enraged, they swam to the depths as well, determined to fight the witch and return their sister to normal. Serula, however, was prepared. She sicced her pet venomous eels on the mermaids, along with many Things from Below, tentacled monstrosities whose allegiance was rumoured to lie with an Old God imprisoned somewhere nearby.  Of course, the mermaids were no match for these monstrosities and were forced to retreat.

Aria built a hut on the beach where she had rescued the sailor and settled there. She spent the rest of her life staring at the sea, longing to return there, but unable to.

The third story: Hercule the Mighty and Hedas of the Ebon Blade

Edna:  He may not have truly been the son of a titan, but he earned this title with his deeds. Not many adventurers can boast with as many accomplishments as the warrior Hercule the Mighty. He had completed 12 difficult quests most people had believed impossible to complete. Many believed he was the ultimate fighter, a man without weakness. They were right about the first, but not about the second. For he was a man in love.

His loved one, Annia, lived in a hut in a forest in the region that would later come to be known as the Plaguelands. Hercule was away on a quest when the death knight Prince Arthas returned to Lordaeron and slaughtered his father, beginning a chain of events that would lead to the utter devastation of the kingdom.  When the hero returned, not much was left from the land where he had been born. Worried for Annia, Hercule galloped to the Plaguelands, only to find her dying in the hands of Hedas, one of Arthas' death knight lieutenants.

Recognising the warrior, the villain decided to mock him. Just like his master later did with Sylvanas Windrunner, he reanimated Hercule's beloved as an undead banshee. This angered the hero and he reached for his mace, ready to smite the death knight then and there. However, Hedas commanded Annia to stand between them and she obeyed, now a slave of the Scourge. Hercule's fingers twitched and he dropped his mace.The death knight laughed victoriously.

He then challenged the warrior to a duel to the death at the flying necropolis of Acherus. If Hedas lost, he would relinquish his opponent's beloved from his control, allowing them to reunite. If he won, however, Hercule was to allow him to kill him and raise him again as a general for the Scourge. Left with no other choice, Hercule accepted. The death knight grinned triumphantly and galloped away on his dead steed, his new banshee slave following him.

In the following week, Hercule searched for other survivors. At the end of it, he had recruited a small squad of adventurers, ready to venture to Ebon Hold with him and defeat the evil of the Scourge. Once they reached the blasted keep, his squad assaulted Hedas' minions, while Hercule faced the death knight himself. The battle was long and hard, as Hedas was not only adept with the sword but was also utilising powerful lich spells, using every one of his advantages to trump his enemy. At one point, Hercule's feet couldn't keep him up any longer and he fell on his knees.

Recognising this as a sign of defeat, Hedas moved closer and prepared to run his runeblade through the hero's heart, turning him into a death knight like himself. However, in the last minute Hercule swung his mace for one last time just as the runeblade pierced his chest. The heavy weapon smashed the skull of Hedas, killing him and releasing all of his minions from his control. The adventurers had an easier time slaying the Ghouls and Abominations now that they weren't launching a coordinated attack. They were also aided by Annia, now free again and using her banshee powers to fight the other undead.

For Hercule, however, it was too late. He did not rise as a death knigt, but the great hero would never ride again. After they burned his body, the adventurers and Annia swore a pact together: to cleanse their homeland from the Scourge, in honour of Hercule. They persevered for many years, slaying dozens upon dozens of undead, until one day, on the frigid continent of Northrend, The Lich King was defeated. The Scourge then left Lordaeron and the heroes could rest. Hercule had finally been avenged.

Back to Edna's story

The old bard's eyes were wide as saucers while he watched all of the patrons file by the small girl and drop a coin in her previously empty pocket purse. Now it was dangerously close to overflowing and was certainly way more full than his bag. After receiving expectant glancec from everyone in the tavern, even his apprentice, the man sighed and spoke again:

"You had a point, little one. I guess old age has clouded my vision and made me forget that old stories have their virtues. Still, I haven't ever heard an old story told so... new like I heard these stories from you today. Hear me out, girl. Your imagination is unbound. You are destined to become a storyteller. Follow that path and greatness awaits you. But first- a bet is a bet. Here, take my..."

"I don't need your gold." Edna smiled as she pushed the bag back to the bard.

"Your kind words were more than enough. Oh wait. Maybe I won't say no to a cup of warm stew, if you know what I mean?"

Laughter echoed from the walls of the tavern.

Anger the Serpent & Medusa

Larial:  My greetings. Before I begin, I would like to stress that unlike many other stories you have heard and are about to hear, this one did happen, although many, many years ago. The life of a night elf might be long, but we do not forget.

My brother was the one who first suggested building an outpost on the border with Silithus. I was against it. I didn't like the prospect of living so close to Ahn'Quiraj and C'Thun's foul influence. Others shared my opinion and my brother had to acquiesce. However, instead of forgetting about his foolish idea, he just suggested settling on the border with Uldum instead. Now my objections were rendered invalid. Without the Quiraji to worry about, other among us approved of this idea.

Eventually, he gathered enough support to present his idea of "strengthening the southern border" to our leader back then, High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind. Uldum back then was uncharted land, so she approved of this mission and also tasked me, my brother and a small squad with exploring the land.

Our squad took the west road around the Un'Goro crater, staying far from Silithus to the east. Once we arrived in Uldum, my brother tasked half of our squad with building the outpost, while the rest joined us in scouting the area around it. To our great surprise, we found out that this desert area was inhabited by sentient beings, called tol'vir. We came across many of them while they travelled, but oddly enough none inhabited the area around our settlements, close to Un'Goro and its humid masses of air. When we asked them why they preferred to dwell in the desert, they told us the following:

"Depart from this land. All that is North from Khartut's tomb and south of the crater is the serpent's domain. Stay for too long and she will collect her debt."

My next of kin was not convinced by their vague warnings. Our scouts had reported no threats in our vicinity, so the construction of the outpost continued. A month after construction had started it already concluded.

The next few weeks passed by uneventful. Everyone was starting to think that it had been pointless to build a defense post when there was nothing to defend against, as the tol'vir showed no signs they would wage war on us. However, one night, as I left my watch on the walls, I saw dozens upon dozens of snakes sneaking in the outpost through every small hole in the wall. Once inside, they grew in size until they rivaled sea serpents. Silent and deadly, they slithered inside huts and started assaulting us. I rang the bell and the outpost answered the call, soldiers rising to defend. With great difficulty and with Elune's will, we slaughtered all of the terrible beasts.

Five times more they attacked and five more times we repelled them. They didn't come a seventh time. Instead, on the seventh day, as the sun gave way to the moon, a cloaked stranger stood before our gates. The mysterious figure had a hump and was bleeding badly, leaving crimson trails behind. I was on duty that day. A few of my subordinates rushed to the newcomer's help, opening the gate as soon as the bleeding figure reached them. I will never forget what horrors followed after these gates drew open.

I watched from the top of the wall as the stranger entered and let the cloak slide off. A monster emerged from within. Its body was similar to ours from the waist up to the neck, except covered in green reptillian scales. The beast's head was a tangle of vipers, viciously hissing at my fellow guards. From the waist down, its body transitioned into the one of a giant serpent. As I watched, the tail uncoiled, silently circling around the two elves. In its hands, the monster held the body of one of our scouts. Blood was gushing from his wounds and dripping from the creature's razor-sharp claws.

My subordinates reacted quickly, each nocking an arrow in their bow, ready to loose it into the monstrosity. However, before they had the opportunity, the tangle of snakes around the creature's head suddenly untied and moved back, revealing the profile of a woman's face, cold, but beautiful. When they met her gaze, my companions stood still. Their skin and clothes shifted their colour to an earthy brown. The monster hissed victoriously and swung her tail at them, shattering them into a million pieces. Her eyes had petrified them.

Oblivious to my presence, the woman with snakes for hair slid forward, moving between the huts faster than a dashing falcon. Desperate cries and the sound of rock shattering echoed in my ears as I ran down the steps. However, when I had finally come down and was ready to face the beast, it was replaced by silence. No cries, no sounds of flying arrows, no stone shattering. Only silence.

Instincts overtook control of me and I hid inside a barrel. A minute later, I heard the monster's reptillian laugh as she slid her way past my barrel and out of the fortress. Afterwards, silence reigned again.

Our camp had become a graveyard. My brother's stone body, forever stuck with his bowstring drawn and an arrow ready to loose, had now become his tombstone.

Naive Youngster

Edna:  Ah, a child's mind is wonderful. When we are young, there are no worries to plague us and our eyes are wide open to the wonders of this world. All children believe that in the grand scheme of things, there is a happy ending for everyone. Some of us preserve this belief as we enter adulthood. Others focus their mind on more... practical things, like one's affluence, and always strive to increase it, forgetting the dreams they had in their young age. I only wish there was more of the former.

Abstract Dragon

Edna:  Few have heard of the abstract dragonflight. That is because they are the rarest of dragons. Just like the green dragonflight draws their strength from dreams, so do abstract dragons draw their power from people's hopes. Maybe it's no wonder then that they are so rare- in this world filled with violence and despair. They say that no other thing on Azeroth can beat the magnificence of an abstract dragon in flight. I hope that one day the world has changed enough for me to witness it.

Literate Ogre

Edna:  Ogres are a simple folk. Above all else they value one virtue- strength in battle. It is no wonder then that their youngsters are encouraged to swing the sword and dissuaded from ever opening a book. Even most ogre magi learn everything from their teachers, mastering spells from experience instead of scrolling through spellbooks. However, sometimes the irresisitible pull to the pages prevails even over ogres. For there is an entirely different kind of magic hidden inside books, and though it is rarely useful in battle, I couldn't imagine my life without it.

Trick Up The Sleeve

Edna: Wait a second, you're not on our list of contestants, who...

Doug: Hey everyone, my name is Doug Dibblebox and I'd like to use this opportunity to expose a fraud! THIS man here, "Slim" Will McShady, cheats in Hearthstone!

(shocked gasps from everyone in the tavern)

McShady (annoyed): Oh, come on, Doug, I explained everything already, the third Preparation came from the Lotus Agents I Burgled from you earlier.

Doug: Really? That makes Burgle about a 100% percent more reliable than it should be. I seem to remember you having a third Preparation the last three games! Get him, guys! Let's see what's hiding inside these long sleeves of yours!

(a skirmish follows. McShady escapes in the midst of all the confusion, but his cloak is left behind. Inside the sleeves the Innkeeper finds...)

Doug: I knew it! 4 Preparations! No wonder this guy is so good with Miracle Rogue, his deck has four extra of the best card in the class. Oh wait, there is something else beneath them... wait, it can't be.

(with trembling hands, Doug draws Face Collector from his former friend's sleeve)

Doug: That card is not even in the game yet! You must do something about this, Mr. Stonebrew.

Harth: Oh, I will. I ban McShady from both the standard and the wild ladder! Only casual will be open to him now! His legend rank I hereby grant to Doug Dibblebox in gratitude for exposing the fraud. Here's your cardback!

Hypnotic Boa

Dorya: Hey everyone, my name isss Dorya. I am a junior exsssplorer. My lassst exssspedition wasss to the Sssholazar Basssin were I dissscovered a new amazing boa ssspeciesss. Inssstead of conssstricting itss victimss, it ssingss them a catchy tune and hypnotissess them. I have to sssay, the ssong really wass quite nice. Of coursse, i wasssn't hypnotissed, don't even think that, it jusst made me trussst in me... i mean the ssnake.

Random patron (to his friend): She looks like she has 3 or less Attack.

Earthen Might

Earth Elemental

Tourmaline:  TREMBLE, MORTALS, BEFORE THE ENVOY OF THE MISTRESS OF EARTH HERSELF, THERAZANE!

Random patron1: Isn't yelling at mortals more like Ragnaros the Firelord's thing?

Random patron2: No no no, he calls us insects, not mortals. Still, why do Elementals have to yell all the time? I get it, you wield the Elements, wow. Shamans can do the same thing.

Random patron3: Hey, you're an envoy of Therazane! Does that mean she's finally coming to Hearthstone this expansion?

Tourmaline: UMM, NO. NOT EVEN THE NEXT ONE. SORRY, MORTALS.

Random patron3: Oh, come on, all the other elemental lords are in already! By the titans, we even got Kalimos, Primal Lord before Therazane!

Tourmaline: Silence, MORTALS! NOW, IT'S TIME FOR MY STORY...

Harth: Sorry, miss, but Elementals don't qualify for the Tale Tournament. I'm sure your stories are interesting, but by the time you're done telling them, my patrons usually have impaired hearing from your... err... loud way of expressing yourself.

Tourmaline: YOU WILL REGRET THAT, INSECTS! THE EARTHMOTHER WILL KNOW OF YOUR INSOLENCE! (punches hole in the wall of the tavern and leaves)

Random patron1 (after a prolonged silence): See? She called us insects! I knew it! She's a secret agent of the Firelord pretending to be an Earth Elemental, just like Am'gam Rager!

Random patron2: Please don't use the words "secret agent" again before rotation. It brings out bad memories...

Hi again, glad you're back around for my second update! I tried some new things with the stories  today so i would really appreciate your opinion on the matter:

1) Darker stories- I've always found the gorgon Medusa from greek mythology to be one of the most horrifying mythical monsters. Petrification is a really scary power, and somehow a sentient being like Medusa with the only monstrous thing about her being her hair seemed more frightening, yet also more elegant, to me than something like a cockatrice, even though it possesses the same ability.

For this reason, i thought it proper that I write a darker than usual story to accompany her, adding some more lore to her than I did with other cards so that I could recreate her better in Hearthstone. However, I'm aware that dark stories are not everyone's cup of tea, so I'd like to ask you if they are OK with you. I promise that there will be 2 or 3 more at most; it is a fairy tale expansion and not a horror one after all, but I just wanted to give truly frightening characters their own darker flair.

2) Humorous stories- And now we go to the opposite end of the spectrum! To compensate for Medusa's story, I wanted to have some funny stories for some of the card. Unlike dark stories, fun stories are something I would like to make more of as I move forward. However, if they are overly silly, they break the immersion that this is a tavern where an actual competition is taking place. therefore, i'd like to know if you like the funny stories and whether they fit together with the rest of the expansion.

Cerber, King of Hounds

Hound

Ophelia: Where do our souls rest after they leave our bodies? Many minds have pondered on that question, but nobody has tried to find their way there. Nobody but me.

It was a sad day for Silvermoon when the accursed Prince Arthas crossed our borders. He destroyed the land where I grew up, he besmirched the Sunwell with his lich magic. But worst of all, he enslaved my general, Sylvanas Windrunner, transforming her into something vile. Even once she renounced his control, she would never be the same. She forsook her people and chose the undead over us.

This wasn't the Sylvanas I came to respect through all my years with the rangers. I knew that Sylvanas could unite us, a folk divided and without cause. To do that, she needed her soul back.

I know where souls rest after they leave this world. My grandfather told me this in his stories. He told me that far beneath the ground, where Azeroth turns molten, the dead wander through empty galleries and reminisce about the lives they had before.

My entry point was Blackrock Mountain. Once the home of Ragnaros the Firelord and Nefarian, now it was deserted, after the dragon and the Firelord were both slain by adventurers. I encountered no obstacle until I reached the Molten Core.

Blackrock Mountain has a new master. A monstrous three headed hound the size of Stormwind Castle. He resides in the core and guards the entrance to the Underworld. I challenged him and tried to lead him astray, hoping I could sneak into the caverns behind his back and find the soul of my general. However, the beast was cunning. Instead of attacking me personally, he sicced his minions on me. Assaulted by dozens of beasts, I had no choice but to flee. My mission had failed.

Heed my words, those of you who mourn for a lost one! The dead are beyond our reach! Don't search them out unless you wish to join them.

Savage Slayer

Edna:  I now give the word to Orum of the Warsong clan, who once was a part of the Horde under Garrosh Hellscream himself. He has quite an interesting story to tell to you.

Orum:  I was there when the Warchief decided to return to the past. To correct the mistake of his father and build an Iron Horde under their united leadership. However, he didn't see that an intruder joined us on our way to the past. A knight from the Alliance. When we returned to Draenor, he ran away and wasn't seen or heard from ever again.

However, a week after Garrosh had prevented Grommash from drinking Mannoroth's blood, therefore saving the orcs from a terrible fate, a terrible rumour spread. A monster was attacking our villages, slaughtering whatever it laid its eyes on. I gathered a squad and went to face it.

It was the human. He had lost his mind. He attacked us with a ferociousness unlike any I had seen. His features reflected this, with his sharp teeth and short build he was more akin to an orc than a human. In the middle of the battle, I realised that Mannoroth's blood had still been drunk. Just not by an orc.

He escaped when we started prevailing, and he still roams Draenor to this day, a being of pure bloodlust.

Hungry Mosquito & Fetch

Edna:  Our next story will be told by no one else but the hunter Hemet Nesingwary. Listen close as he tells you about yet another of his conquests (exasperated sigh).

Hemet:  Thanks, granny! Alright, lads, listen well! There are many beasts in Stranglethorn which would like nothing more than to call yeh lunch. And yet there is none of dem beasties that is so sneaky like dem giant mosquitoes. Lil' winged devils assaulted my camp one night. Unnaturally quiet for insects with the size of eagles, I tell you. Would have drained us all dry if it wasn't for mah dog Chumpy. He-he-he, dem stupid insects had no chance once I told Chumpy to fetch! The good boy cleared the entire camp of dem bloody insects within just a few minutes. Only problem is, mosquitoes don't make nice wall decorations! Wouldn't want one of these bloody devils staring at me at night ever again.

Ramidas: The Kirin Tor are not unfamiliar with the power of illusion. Why waste your energy on a real spell when an illusion could do the trick just as well, like fooling your enemy to attack a Mirror Image instead of you? However, the Silver Hand recently came to us with a new idea. They wanted a spell that amazes your opponent. A pretty weird request, right? Anyway, we made the spell for them, a big, shiny barrier. And that's where all our trouble began.

Our students liked the concept of amazing spells. Nothing bad in that, but they soon started using it to play tricks on us, teachers! That was totally unacceptable. Poor Professor Goldcrest was so amazed by those pesky rascals that I caught her smuggling Wisps into the hold the other day. Pretty sure it's just some stupid bet among the students.

Also, they've started using this to cheat at practical exams! How can we expect to have a fair magical duel when the student just immediately amazes you and then just counter every spell you cast while distracted by the amazement? That's an unfair and simplistic strategy that even a first-year can utilize.