- Wizard 101: Becoming a Subscription Service
- Wizard 101: How to Insult People and Circumvent the Filter
- Chapter One: A Chapter in Which There is Much Ado About the Ordinary
- City of Heroes Optioned For the Silver Screen
- Wizard 101: The End of the Semester
- Metal Wolf Chaos -- Vote for Your American Justice
- The Helvetica Venture
- Experience the World of Warcraft like no blood elf fanfic has before.
- The Warcraft Eye
- In a drunken stupor is a bad time to get caught undead in Azeroth.
Chapter Seven: There’s War Drums…In Those Eyes
On her way back to the Sunspire with her plundered goods, Helvetica began to notice a queer thing: cat corpses. All over the place. As far as the eye could see. Dead black cats, dead white cats, calico, torties, seal point, not a single one spared that unknown wrath. It seemed as if a family of rats had gone on a vengeful spree and slaughtered every cat in sight.
She had examined a cat once. “Critter,” it noted, “Level 1.”
Chapter Six: Helvetica Gets a New Wardrobe
She slices! She dices! She also makes kindling of vaguely anthropomorphic trees!
Not too far into the mission, Helvetica quickly found herself wading through cords of firewood as every tree-like creature in the area came for her blood. Between the snapping of boughs, limbs, twigs—and the shocked and startled expressions on the treant’s faces as she cleaved them in twain—she let all of her frustration out on the woody nuisances.
Of course, she had also carefully made certain no other players were camping them before she waded into the fray. She really didn’t want to deal with arrows-from-nowhere thudding into her kills.
Chapter Five: And the Toxic Burning Crystal Spill
“So, you just ran into it and this broke off?” It was Yasmine Teli’Larien speaking. She did so in a hushed, considering tone. Her eyes never left the shard of Burning Crystal that floated nearby and glowered with barely restrained menace, time-sharing between everyone in the group as equally as it could.
Helvetica’s return had assembled a small convention.
In the gathering were Kariel, the Rogue trainer; Sallina, the Hunter trainer; Arena, the Mage trainer; Jestenis Sunstriker—didn’t say what he trained, but from his gigantic sword and disapproving expression she figured that he was her mentor-to-be—and even Shara Sunwing, who sold stuff. Attracted by the commotion, like moths to a flame, two magical brooms also hovered nearby, followed closely by several cats. Always cats. The Sunspire was lousy with them and the amount of
…
Chapter Four: In Which Helvetica Receives a Bump on the Noggin
On closer inspection the Burning Crystal reminded Helvetica even more of a glass of Mt. Dew that someone happened to be blowing bubbles into. All it needed was a crazy straw and it would be complete. Rough, white flagstones paved a circular area around the crystal and supported clusters of frilly benches and strange, hovering shelves filled with random books. Here and there a pot bobbed in the air, spilling over with ferns and flowers of various colors. All the while she stood and examined the area the crimson eyes of the crystal watched her with a plotting, voyeuristic glower.
Upon her arrival at the kill zone, blade in hand, Helvetica girded herself and made a few practice swings with her bastard sword. These warm-ups would have had more meaning, however, if she had anything
…
Chapter Three: Helvetica Receives Her First Quest
Helvetica was overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and throngs rushing all around her. She was surrounded by dozens of other stick thin blood elves, their glowing eyes sliding past her in luminous blurs. Once and a while a blue name floating above a pastel head caught her attention, such gems as “Bubblehearth,” “Omgelf,” “Dulcewynna,” and “Toosexyformysword.” She stared in awe at the alabaster ponderous curves and sweep of the tower she stood next to, a yellow inlay etching flitted playfully across the opalescent surface and transitioned across blood red pincushion bubbles before finally reaching the summit of the goldenrod and red roof.
The sight of the tower captured her attention so totally she didn’t look where she was going—or maybe it was the male blood elf, dancing and stripping down to his skivvies. None of this
…
Chapter Two: Orientation is Such Sweet Sorrow
The screen flickered and refocused on vision of verdant green fields, trees, and golden bordered buildings with a vaguely Arabian curvature. The view pulled forward as if it were a small child being dragged forward by the line of a kite and the voice dropped somewhat into a liquid baritone—reminding her somewhat of a movie preview announcer—as it began to narrate an eloquent and looping speech.
“For nearly seven thousand years the high elves cultivated a shining, magical kingdom hidden deep within the forests of Northern Lordaeron—”
“What’s Lordaeron?”
Chapter One: A Chapter in Which There is Much Ado About the Ordinary
Imagine a room, an ordinary 15’x12’ sunken into the recesses of a suburban home with one door exiting to an off-white hallway. Carpeting so compacted from years of use and little attention from a vacuum cleaner that its color could no longer be described—as the brochure did—as apricot, but instead retains a desaturated peach. Even that color hasn’t been seen for ages, the floor is missing in action, buried beneath piles of dark clothing, haphazardly flung books, and discarded flyers. Even sunlight thinks twice before attempting to slide between the slats of the window shades.
There is but one light. There is ever only one light.
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