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Phat Loot Phriday: Sandrene's Invisible Vest
Reader's Note: Phat Loot Phriday now extends (slightly) behind the cut below. "By Elune's Funky Beat and Tabbed Collars!" Throgg said. "What are you wearing?" "It's a leather vest," Lolegolas said, running his hands over his chest. "I figured since we're strolling through old content, then we should dress the part. So I got this chestpiece." "Little elf," Throgg said carefully. "You wear nothing except, perhaps, the Emperor's new clothes. I can see your piercings." Lolegolas let out a long, sad sigh. The sigh expressed the agony of man who cared deeply about fashion but whose friend could not understand. "It's Sandrene's Invisible Vest, Throgg. It is, in fact, actually a vest and you just can't see it." Throgg poked the Blood Elf's chest with a doubting finger. "Huh. I can actually feel it. How odd." "Are you two quite finished?" the Gilnean asked ahead of them. "Miranda's waiting for us." "Of course," Lolegolas said. "The trail of dead Worgen is getting thicker. Surely, she's nearby. What's our plan at this point?"
Phat Loot Phriday: Fiery Warhorse's Reins
"Who runs to Duskwood for safety?" Lolegolas wondered aloud. "Certainly, by the time one's done battle with Ragnaros, perhaps the cursed woods aren't quite so bad. But a little girl? Fleeing from Grimtotem? It doesn't seem wise." "Old woman said Miranda special," Throgg countered. "Maybe she tough. Women handle pain better than men." The Gilnean interrupted the pair by walking into their camp. No trace of wolf or bear haunted the man's features; he was wearing his Human face. "I found the Grimtotem. Throgg, put your axe down. There's no point. They're already dead." "See?" Throgg told the Blood Elf. "Miranda is very fierce." "Maybe," the druid acknowledged, "but the Tauren were killed by Worgen. Their faces, chests, and throats all showed fang and claw attacks. Feral Worgen, and part of Genn's people. But Worgen." "This is Duskwood," Lolegolas said. "We kind of knew they were around. I can put on a melodramatic shocked face if you'd like, maybe scream like a little girl. Would that help?" "Oh, the funny. So very funny," the Gilnean replied drily. "The point is that if the Grimtotem were following any kind of trail, feral Worgen would have no trouble tracking her down. We should probably hurry." %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: Restored Archeus
"Miranda never was a normal girl," the old woman said as she handed a cup of tea to Lolegolas. The Blood Elf grasped the cup thankfully, warming his fingers on the pottery. "She was already touched by the time she left for school." "What do you mean?" Throgg asked. He leaned against the hearth, his massive body soaking up heat from the wood stove. "I don't understand 'touched.'" "She talked to people who weren't there," the woman claimed. "Not ghosts or anything like that. She claimed people existed on another plane from us; separate, not like us. She said they had extra dimensions. It was impossible to sort out." "We're looking for her, old mother," Throgg said. "I owe your Miranda a debt. She is being hunted. She may not even know us for friends." The elderly woman looked to the Gilnean, who merely nodded and confirmed, "I vouch for them." "She'll be hiding in Darkshire," the old woman said. She handed a bundle to Lolegolas. Once it was in his hand, the woman unwrapped it. "This is the restored Archeus, once wielded by Mor'Ladim. Her father won it. If you show it to her, she will know you as a friend." %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: Funeral Pyre
Lolegolas knocked on the farmhouse door. He tried to hold himself in a relaxed, casual pose, but he felt as nervous as a young man showing up at his girlfriend's parents' home. The Blood Elf shook his head disdainfully when that thought occurred to him. "You couldn't have left that at home?" Lolegolas asked the druid pointedly. For his part, the druid merely shrugged as he watched cows doing cow things out in the pasture. "The Funeral Pyre is a grim weapon or a potent salve, depending on the flavor of druid using it. I would not yield it up in our quest. And it has a gem in it. Darn thing would get stolen from the locker." Throgg shushed them both with a wave of his hand. The door opened, and a middle-aged woman stood in the entryway. She didn't seem shocked to see Horde standing on her porch. "Ma'am," Throgg started. "We're here about your daughter. She's in trouble and we're trying to find her. We want to make it right." The woman gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth. "Miranda." %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: Westfall Chicken
"The girl's family lives about 50 hides down. The matron recognized the description," the druid said. "The locals says they heard a ruckus -- their words, not mine -- but didn't think anything of it after all the Deathwing trouble here." "And they just ... gave you the information?" Lolegolas asked. "They just told where these people were, didn't wonder if you might be a spy?" The Blood Elf's eyebrows were dubious -- well, the Blood Elf was dubious; his eyebrows just displayed that emotion. "I had my Alliance citizenship proof," the Worgen said, gesturing at a small chicken next to him. "A chicken?" Throgg asked. "A Westfall chicken," the druid said. "It's an Alliance fowl." "Oh the Alliance is f ... " Throgg started, but Lolegolas cut him off with a shout of "Don't!" The druid looked bemused. "Only Alliance can get this particular poultry, and only in Westfall. It's quite a prestigious plucker. A clever clucker." Lolegolas kept his hand clasped tightly over the Orc's mouth and gave the druid an angry look. "You're doing this on purpose. And besides, the Undead have the chickens, too." %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: Brewfest Keg Pony
The trio rode out of Undercity with a vengeance, desperately moving away from fallen Lordaeron in hopes the guards wouldn't notice the kitty druid looked a little funny. A tiny pony struggled to keep up, its back slightly bent by the massive kegs of beer. It sighed with relief when the men stopped for a rest in Hillsbrad. "No way of knowing which way they came," Throgg grunted. "I think we catch them from Menethil." The Gilnean nodded. "I can go into town and ask after her. Since the changes in the Wetlands, Menethil hasn't had nearly the traffic. Someone might have noticed a little girl by herself; they would definitely notice some Grimtotem." "What will we do in the meantime?" Lolegolas pondered. "Drink," Throgg replied. He gestured to the pony. "Portable Brewfest. Party on the hoof!" The druid look bemused. "You keep a keg pony on hand?" Lolegolas blinked in response. "You mean, you don't?" %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: "Brew of the Month" Club Membership Form
Ashenvale creaked as impossibly large trees swayed in the afternoon breeze. The Worgen druid glanced appreciatively at the forest as he rejoined Throgg and Lolegolas. "The innkeep was surprisingly pudgy for a Night Elf," the druid said. "But he did say a pair of Tauren passed through here recently. He didn't talk to them much, but he did have something interesting to say." Throgg had started packing his kodo as soon as the druid had started talking. "Useful? Someplace to go?" "Not exactly," the druid said. He held out a small piece of paper to Lolegolas. The Blood Elf took the paper and grunted. "I see," the Elf said. "A Brewfest voucher. They were turned away from the Orc's party and are on their way to Ironforge to participate." "The Tauren claimed they wanted to join the Beer of the Month Club," the druid explained. "Thing is, the Dwarves won't be any more interested in the Grimtotem than the Orcs. No Dwarf is going to mail a Grimtotem an interesting beer each month. It'd be sacrilege, worse than worshipping the Old Gods." Throgg leaped into his saddle. "Lying. The Grimtotem were using it as a cover story for why they're chasing the girl through Elf lands. We have a trail we can follow. It's time to ride like the win, fellows." %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: Zoid's Firelit Greatsword
Lolegolas sat back on his haunches, tossing his flint and tinder away from himself. "I give up," the Blood Elf said. "Ashenvale is too wet to start a fire this way." Throgg cocked his head to the side and drew a massive, burning blade from its holster. "Flintstone won't start fire? Why not Zoid's Greatsword?" "What?" The Blood Elf blinked at his companion. The Orc touched the wood logs with the sword, which instantly burst into flame. "Zoid's Firelit Greatsword. Awesome for fury warriors." "I don't think it's named for Futur ... " "Stop," Throgg cautioned. "I know it's not named for him. But ever since the Helm of Maddening Whispers, I can't get these things out of my head." The Orc stopped when something rustled in the bushes. "Is that the druid?" "Nope!" Throgg exclaimed. "It's just Chuck Testa!" %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: Shard of Torment
Throgg's mighty hand gripped the Grimtotem's head, pushing its face toward the gaping maw of the Shard of Torment. The shield's burning mouth grinned monstrously at the Grimtotem, streams of lava slobbering over its jaws. "This is the only shield for tanks on its tier," Lolegolas said nearby. "It comes from Baleroc, who is in no way a homage to the beast who fought Gandalf. It also drools fire, which leaves you in an interesting position." "What?" the Grimtotem shouted. "Oh god, what do you want?" "The girl? Where is the girl? You know who we mean," Lolegolas said simply. "We let her go!" the Tauren cried. "In all the confusion, she ran and we just let her go. She ran toward the Elf forest." Throgg grunted and yanked the Grimtotem away from his shield, tossing the man away contemptuously. "So, we're off to Kalimdor." %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: Necklace of Fetishes
Throgg turned over the Necklace of Fetishes in his hand. When he'd explained more about the object, the Gilnean quickly waved his hands in the air frantically. "I don't need to know," the druid claimed. Now, though, Lolegolas stood in the middle of the room, carefully examining his bullets. "These are all fine," the Blood Elf said. "I'm a little surprised, actually, considering how long I was out of action. I should be ready to go with you to the Firelands." Throgg set the amulet down on a table. "Not going to fire land. Something we need to do first." Lolegolas cocked his head to the side and waited expectantly. The Gilnean simply drank his tea. "At the Grimtotems," Throgg said. "There was a little girl. Human. I need to know what happened to her. Did you see her?" The druid nodded slowly. "I remember her. I was ... distracted, and lost track of her. I tried looking about the camp, but had no luck." "We find her," Throgg said. "Get vengeance if we must. Then Firelands. Deal?" Lolegolas dropped the bullets into his ammo pouch. "Deal. We find the girl." %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: Wolfslayer Sniper Rifle
Lolegolas didn't shake, shudder, or tremble as he slid his boots over his leg. He looked up as Throgg handed him a long, fierce rifle. "What in the name of Moffat is that?" Lolegolas asked. "Wolfslayer Sniper Rifle -- you get it from the Big Bad Wolf," Throgg replied. He stopped himself and looked at the Gilnean. "Sorry, no offense intended, Spot." "None taken. And my name is Not Spot," the druid responded with a heavy sigh. "That has always been my favorite gun," Lolegolas explained, "but it isn't useful nowadays. It just doesn't have the power." "This news, my friend, is a little gift to you. Transmogrification is coming. You'll be able to make your gear look like other gear. Fashion matters again!" Lolegolas clasped his hands together with a gasp. "You mean ... I don't have to wear the same clothes for an entire tier? My god, the money we'll save on Febreze alone!"
Phat Loot Phriday: Obsidian Arborweave Shoulders
The druid shoved the Obsidian Arborweave Shoulders across the table with a disgruntled snort. "I really should just become a moonkin. These shoulders let you summon flaming treants. Think about it! Trees on fire! They attack things. That's enough of a draw for anyone." Throgg only stared into his mug. "How is he?" the Gilnean asked quietly. "Getting there," Throgg responded. "Stopped cursing. Stopped sweating. Just resting now. Still breathing. Last time, cursing and sweating lasted much longer." "It was good that he did it, you know," the druid said slowly. "You'd have died. Lolegolas will make it through this, but it's not like you come back from being dead. It was a fair trade." "I'd do same," Throgg sighed, downing his pale ale quickly. "But my job is to watch out for the little elf, not make him do these things for me. I'm the tank. That's how it works." "You're allowed to trade, from time to time," the Gilnean countered. "It's fair." "No," Throgg said firmly. "I take the hits. That's what the tank does." "Well, maybe the flaming trees can do that next time." %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: Alysra's Razor
Lolegolas shuddered in the bed, and sweat beaded along his forehead and cheekbones. Throgg worked quietly and carefully, shaving the blood elf's jaw with Alysra's Razor. The blood elf feebly tried to wave the orc away, but Throgg simply ignored him. "This is a knife from a burning bird in the Firelands," Throgg said. "Very agile weapon, very fast and expert blade. See? It even has a place for a pretty yellow gem." "Leave me alone," the blood elf whispered. "You're making me do this. I don't want to. Magic isn't so bad, it doesn't hurt anyone." "I know," Throgg said. "I'm sorry for this pain. It will get better, and you will feel better. I will make all of this up to you, I promise." Lolegolas lurched, rolling over to the side of the bed. Throgg quickly yanked a bucket under the elf's head and pulled his hair back. "Go ahead. This is not the nastiest thing I've ever done." Lolegolas couldn't respond, as he was busy vomiting. %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: Mirrored Boots
Throgg slid the plate boots onto his feet with a triumphant jerk. "They fit well." Lolegolas nodded in agreement before taking another sip of tea. His hands were shaking visibly, and the tea threatened to slosh over the side. "We can ignore the reflective top and assume you won't be tucking your shoes under anyone's skirts." "Mirrored Boots good for tanks," Throgg said, ignoring the jibe. "Very masterful. I didn't even need to loot them from a dead monster. Locally made by craftsmen." Lolegolas started to agree but was interrupted by wracking coughs. He covered his mouth with a fist and spat flecks of blood. He waved away the orc. "It's nothing." "Withdrawal," Throgg stated simply. "You shouldn't have done it." The orc crossed the room and laid a hand on the blood elf's shoulder. "Going to find ale house, bring back beer. We'll spend a few nights here, let you rest." "I'll be fine," Lolegolas claimed, making motions to stand up. "Rest quietly," Throgg said, "or I'll knock you to sleep. Lay down. I'll be right back." %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: Mandible of Beth'tilac
"I brought you a gift," Lolegolas said. "It's flaming. I know how much you like stuff on fire." Throgg turned the Mandible of Beth'tilac over in his hands. "It's a jawbone! You brought me a flaming jawbone. That is very kind welcome home gift," the orc said thoughtfully. "What it do?" "The fire is the enchantment, admittedly. It's mostly just a mandible with duct tape." Lolegolas sat on a chair, carefully sitting on his hands to cover the shakes. The trembling was getting bad, but he didn't want the recovering orc to see. "It's for tanking, I'm pretty sure. It's angled well to help you dodge blows and such." "And it flames! I can yell 'Flame on!' instead of 'Throgg smash!' It will be fun. When are we going to the flaming lands?" "Firelands," Lolegolas said. "Maybe next week, after we get a little more rest. The worgen's out fishing up some food now, and we can probably find an expedition easily." "Flame on!" Throgg said, wielding the mandible. "The flaming duo returns!"
Phat Loot Phriday: Firemind Pendant
Lolegolas's eyes still burned green with stolen magic, but the glow had faded to the soft shimmer of embers. He watched quietly while the druid waggled a pendant over Throgg. "It's the Firemind Pendant," the druid said. "Healing amulet. Very good for someone who hasn't quite managed to get into the Firelands yet. It's doing its job admirably." "So, he'll be okay?" the blood elf asked. His voice sounded rough and relieved. "Definitely," the druid responded, sitting on the raw earth. "We need to get him to a city soon, for food and water. But he's fine." Lolegolas nearly collapsed into a sitting position, spreading his legs haphazardly before him. "Well, that's over. We can get back to bad jokes and random adventures." "Aren't you forgetting something?" the druid asked. "You have a challenge of your own to overcome here soon." "One thing at a time, worgen. One thing at a time."
Phat Loot Phriday: Symbiotic Worm
The blood elf and Gilnean stood high above the Grimtotem camp, unseen by the tauren below. The rocky outcropping had been guarded, but not sufficiently so. Lolegolas set down his pestle to the side and swished the liquified Symbiotic Worm around inside the bowl. "Throgg would not approve," the druid said somberly. The Gilnean's tone was clear, though. He didn't think that disapproval meant Lolegolas should stop. "How long before the catalyst starts working?" The blood elf stared into the bowl thoughtfully. "Seconds. Minutes at the most. It doesn't take long. The addiction doesn't go away for a reason. It's very fast, very strong. Once this passes my lips, my body will remember the magic. With this much infusion, you'll easily see me from down there." Lolegolas set the bowl down. "He will be very unhappy with me for this." "He will see you through it, again." The druid walked to the edge of the overlook. Three Grimtotem were unconscious and securely bound well away from the action. "I'm going now. I'll be in position within a few minutes."
Phat Loot Phriday: Jaws of Defeat
The druid returned to consciousness slowly. He found he couldn't sit up; he was stretched across a leather cot. The worst of his wounds were bandaged and cleaned. He admitted to himself he was surprised. "Good," Lolegolas said, again surprising the druid. The two of them were in a small camp consisting of a tiny cooking fire, the druid's cot, and a log for the blood elf to sit on. It lacked even a tent. "I was worried." "What happened?" the druid said. He finally found the strength to sit up, swinging his legs over the side of the cot. "I was trying to get free and bring ... Throgg! Throgg needs us!" "I know," the blood elf said quietly. "The Grimtotem tossed you into a river. I found you on the way to the top of the bluff. They left you for dead. I suspect if it weren't for your particular curse, you would be. Can you walk? They will execute Throgg in the morning if we're not in position soon." The druid muttered a quick prayer. Green lights circled his body, invigorating him. "Healing is not my strength, but I am capable. We can go. What's your plan?" Lolegolas proffered a small trinket in his hands. It looked like the jawbone of a tiny shark. "We'll snatch victory from this. The Jaws of Defeat. One of the most powerful magical artifacts used today. I have a plan." The blood elf cast his gaze to the bluff overlooking Grimtotem Central. "We're out of time. Let's go. Ride like the wind, druid. Ride like the wind." Next week, the conclusion of this part of the tale (and the return of more jokes) ... %Gallery-96786%
Phat Loot Phriday: Dragon Bone Warhelm
Throgg walked quietly with the druid whose name was not Spot. The orc's head was uncharacteristically bowed, but he was not afraid or ashamed. After delivering Garrosh's message to Magatha, he simply didn't want to make eye contact with any of the Grimtotem. "Could have gone worse, I suppose," the druid said. It was strange to see words somehow slide through a cat's mouth. "No horrible offense taken, at least not from you." "Not out yet," Throgg said. No sooner had the orc spoken than he pulled up short. A short distance away, between a handful of sewn hide tents, a cookpot had just reached a boil. Two Grimtotem laughed as they wrestled a small human girl between them. She wept frantically, and her eyes were glazed with hysteria. Throgg's hand reflexively twitched, tightening around his mace. A dozen warriors stood laughing at the girl. "By Elune," the druid said. He looked to the orc, then back to the tent. "It's a trap. The timing's too good. They knew we'd leave this way. Throgg, this is a setup ... " The orc shook his head. "Then it is a good one. Get free of here." With a stern look at the group, Throgg slammed his helm over his head. "Tell ... tell little belf that I'm sorry I didn't come back." The druid couldn't even open his mouth before the orc was in the middle of the tauren, screaming "I say thee, 'Nay!'"
Phat Loot Phriday: Reforged Heartless
Lolegolas tapped the blade called Reforged Heartless against his leg. He'd taken it from the cow now bound tightly next to his campfire. Lolegolas wouldn't normally use slurs to describe fellow members of the Horde, but he was running out of patience. "The thing about addicts," Lolegolas said in a slow, conversational tone, "is that once you've overcome your dependence on the substance ... you're left with a hole." He stood up and moved closer to the fire to sit next to the Tauren. "The addiction never goes away. You're always aware of it. It's like the buzzing of wasps in the distance. It's always in the corner of your mind. You always want to sate it. The only real difference is that you now have the strength to control that longing. But controlling it hurts. That's life with addiction." "Tell me, then," the hunter said quietly to the bound warrior. "If you think a sore tooth makes a bear cranky and mean ... what do you think that kind of constant frustration does to one of the Sin'dorei?" Lolegolas grit his teeth tightly. "I found a man ... an orc ... who helped me with that pain. Your politics took him away, and now I believe your people might kill him. Let's you and I discuss how we're going to keep that from happening."
