Well...i wrote a terribad thing of Fan-Fiction (Using Original Characters) That takes place in the warcraft universe. As the 'villian' (THe actualy Protagonist) is a Dwarf, I thought I'd post it here...
If people like it,i'll make more.
NOTE: I didn't edit it. I wrote it, and then that was it. Criticism is LOVED.
Braving the treacherous pitfalls on the single path through the dreaded Deadwind pass, was a small group of horde adventurers, comprised of an Orc Warrior, a Troll priest, a Tauren Druid, a Forsaken Rogue, and a Blood elf mage. The brave adventurers had just been hired to clear out a den of cultists from the Swamp of Sorrows, and were heading back to Booty Bay to bring the severed head of their leader to the Goblin Fiznips, who had paid them to take the cultist out.
The Orc was the leader, and went by the name “Gorgog the Mighty.” He was a Mag'hari, one of the uncorrupted Orcs, and took pride in that fact. Covering his brown skin was a masterfully worked set of elementium plate armor, and like many warriors, he wore a helm, also made from Elementium. Slung over his shoulder was a wooden targe shield, and at his hip was a nice, heavy mace.
The grey-skinned troll, named Dazbur’Thluz, was a well known Voodoo priest, adept at shadow magic. His face was tattooed with tribal markings, and what one could see under his tribal garb, the rest of his body was equally tattooed. His tusks jutted up to the side of his nose, making it hard for him to eat, but he dealt with it as best he could.
The undead rogue was of a unknown gender, at it’s body was so rotten that it was impossible to tell for a fact. It didn’t speak, but it made a gurgling sound when one of the party addressed it, probably in some effort to speak to its companions. They called it Cecilan, a name that was impossible to use to gauge if it was male or female. It was dressed in a suit of leather that was almost as rotten as it was.
Rakelem the Tauren druid was tall, with skin that would remind anyone who saw her of the skin of a cow. Her heavy hooves made little nose as she stepped down on the earth, and from the looks of it, she left no footprints either. Her tail swished behind her in frustration as she looked at the dead land all around her. There was nothing that could be done for this land anymore, she knew, but it made her upset to even be in this dead land. She was dressed in the leather of a Druid of the Cenarion Circle, however she also wore the tabard of the city of Orgrimar, showing that she was anything but neutral.
Finaly, Lithenress, the Sin’Dorei mage, was a stunning beauty, her silver tresses tied up into a tight bun. Gorgog seemed to have taken a liking to her, as she had a very pretty amulet that he had given her for her name-day. Her robes were scarlet, and very fashionably cut.
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As those five adventurers traveled back to Booty Bay, they joked and laughed with each other, all of them obviously happy in their company.
“And so Rakelem told Lithen that tea drinking was savage, and the act of a heathen! She was so shocked, Daz, you should have seen it.”
Lithenress blushed suddenly and rolled her eyes as the troll burst out laughing.
“Ja mon, I wish I had been there to be seein’ it, mon.” He continued to laugh, as Rakelem smiled softly, glad that her friends had decided to cheer her up.
“Well, atleast I’m not-” Lithenress stopped suddenly, tensing suddenly.
Gorgog and the rest of the party stopped and turned to look at her. “Something wrong, Lith?” Gorgog asked, concerned.
“I swear I heard a sound just up the path…” She said, pointing past the small rock bridge that crossed a very deep gorge, towards the archways of stone that they would have to cross under.
“You worry too much, Lith.” Dazbur’Thluz said, patting her gently on the shoulder. “Giant spiders are the only beasts that dwell in those arches. Nothing that we heroes need to worry ourselves with.”
The blood elf sighed softly, and nodded. “Alright. I despise spiders, but I doubt they’d attack a group so large.”
The group continued down the path, and crossed the narrow bridge carefully, if one of them fell, it would be a long, hard drop that would spell the death of them, if not from the landing, from the vicious vultures that prayed on any who fell.
As soon as Lithenress, who had been the last in the line crossed over the bridge, a loud noise rang out in the pass. Gorgog drew his axe and shield quickly, and dropped into a fighting stance. It wasn’t any noise, he knew, but the noise of a gunshot.
“That’s yer only warnin’ ye horde filth! Turn yerselves back around to Stonard!” A dwarven voice rang out from somewhere.
“Gorgog!” Dazbur’Thluz yelled, causing the orc to turn his head towards the troll. His eyes widened in horror as he saw that his beloved Lithenress had a bullet wound in the center of her forehead, the entire back portion of her skull blown apart. Grey mater and blood stained the earth, and the glow of her emerald eyes was gone. He screamed in agony, and rushed over to his love, clutching at her corpse.
“Rakelem! Fix her!” He screamed, but the druid only shook her head sadly. She couldn’t heal someone who was dead.
The Gorgog closed Lithenress’ eyes, and rose slowly, howling in rage. “I’ll kill you, you damned alliance dog!” He screamed, before another gunshot blased from another unknown area. The bullet slammed into Gorgog’s right knee, shattering it, and sending him sprawling onto the ground, screaming in agony.
“I warned ye! Prepare to die, horde filth!” The dwarf yelled, and the sound of him reloading filled the canyon. Dazbur’Thluz’s eyes widened, and he turned to run back over the bridge, in the hopes of escaping the dwarf.
“Ye ain’t escapin’, ye sweaty troll!” The dwarf yelled, as he shot another bullet, this one tearing through the troll’s back and out his stomach. Although the troll’s wound quickly closed due to his regeneration ability, he stumbled, and fell off the bridge, screaming as he vanished into the darkness.
Meanwhile, Rakelem and Cecilan had both scattered, shapeshifting into a bear and slipping into the shadows respectively. This didn’t seem to hinder the dwarf’s onslaught, as a flare suddenly went off where Cecilan had hidden itself. Its eyes widened before a bullet tore into its skull, blowing what was left of its rotten brain over Gorgog, who still was unable to stand due to his wound.
Rakelem was also killed with extreme ease, much to Gorgog’s horror. He was alone now, and unable to defend himself. He watched as a dwarf climbed down from the archway that Lithenress had heard something from. The dwarf was dressed in mail armor dyed purple, with spikes jutting from the shoulder pads. He carred a rifle with two extremely sharp looking bayonets that were obviously designed for slashing, not stabbing. The dwarf wore an eyepatch with a small alliance symbol on it, and his flaming orange beard was the last thing he saw before the dwarf slit his throat.
As his lifeblood ebbed away, the orc could feel the dwarf going through his bag, and taking the head of the cultist. “Thank ye kindly.” The dwarf said, before turning and walking off, singing a merry song to himself as he walked off, intending to cash in on the bounty on the head of the cultist.