((Inspired by a little game of blogging tag that has started in the internether, I’ve decided to start a little RP-themed version of it. See if you can play along; this is an exercise in both RP and lore!))
Howdy strangers! I was just thinking the other day. I had realized that the history of Azeroth is absolutely giiiii-normous! And for a gnome like me, that’s multiplied at least a hundredfold! HA!
All silliness aside, boys and girls, I also thought of how I fit into its history. The world of Azeroth is filled with people of a wide variety of interesting races, with different life histories. I presume that how I had lived my life during the volatile history of our mortal world, and how it differed with that of, oh, let’s say Ronin the mage of legend (and my personal hero). So I ask myself…
Where was I during…
The Battle of Mount Hyjal? ((Warcraft 3))
Believe me baby, I was somewhere else! The invasion of those damned troggs was a terrible shock to my people. I was not skilled enough to be part of our makeshift militia, so the Wintersprugs were long gone, and already in Ironforge. Homeless, the exiles wandered around Ironforge with absolutely nothing to do. When word had spread to the dwarven military to begin their preparations, the Wintersprugs were asked to help the war effort, the only way we knew how. Thus, the night before the dwarven military left Ironforge will go down in the Wintersprug family history as “The Night of a Thousand Waterskins.”
The Opening of the Dark Portal ((by Medivh))?
Oh golly, as a family, we never even heard about the Dark Portal, nor did we hear much about the other mortal races, let alone the orcs. There were rumblings in Gnomeregan about a “new race” that had been sighted by Gnomish expeditioneers. We have always been a small people, so any ventures anywhere (particularly the Black Morass) allowed us the ability to not be sighted by anyone. I was too concerned with the development of the Wintersprug Hydrofilterizationator. Let me put it this way: if they don’t buy my ware, I just won’t care.
The Naxxramas Event?
Funny story, the news of the floating citadel had broken out, and the world was in such a frenzy, even hordeside. I had just come of age, but haven’t assumed a new last name yet. At the time, the council of tinkers had put off their plan to host the annual gnomish naming party to focus on local defence. I didn’t get my last name that year, and I was as steamed as, um, my uncle Fezz Fizzwickle’s steamtastic gizmomigator (yes…that should suffice…). I don’t know what it does actually, but it blew a lot of smoke from its head, much like me that year. I missed the gnomish naming party the next year to start preparing for my journey out into Azeroth as a mage.
I don’t know. Gnomes don’t live that long. Although there are rumors afloat that all gnomes were unactivated robots that lived underground during that time. Kinda like the dwarfs, except cooler.
The Crashing of the Exodar?
It was all over the rumor mill in Ironforge. Some giant Ironforge-sized flying machine was seen blazing through the air at high speeds across the world, eventually crash-landing somewhere in Kalimdor. I had spent my days at that time at the mage trainer, and one night when I returned to the refugee center in Tinker Town, one of my bunkmates, Ned Newfounder, was recruiting people to go an expedition to Azuremyst Isle to check it out. I hadn’t heard from him since. Shame. He was probably eaten by a deeprun tram rat. Served him right for being drawn to such fascinating machinery…hrmm, now that I’m quite equipped, I should go there myself one time.
((So there you have it! And as tradition is followed, I shall now tag the following friends from the internether to participate, but feel free to join in anyways!
Annie Mae Spursparkle
Tux (of course, his/her owner might have to translate…)