Last Call at Brewfest

Dark Templar Kardnal Zu’pala peered out from his black hood at the troll before him.  He narrowed his eyes, gripped his belt tighter, took a deep breath and spoke:

“C’mon brudda,” a slight whine worked the edges of his melodic voice “Ah be workin’ fo’ T’chali’s now fo’ two weeks.  Ah done everyting joo said…ah hauled de barrels up from Razor Hill, ah done whored fa joo, pimpin’ yo’ beer t’roughout Orgrimma’, I even cleaned up de vomit and took out de trash jus’ now.  Gimme some mo’ tickets…look how many ah gots!”  Kardnal pulled out wads of wrinkled and mildly damp tickets.

“Five hunnert an’ sev’ty-eight…sev’ty-nine…Five-eighty…c’mon mon…ah on’y need twenny mo’.  Ah be wantin’ a ram summin’ fierce…dey look so sweet an’ furry…and above all not freakin’ bouncy!  C’mon…ah take dat one ovah dere…he be all weak and sickly lookin’.  You no be needin’ dat one.  C’mon!  Ah done got up at ohdarkthirty yes’day moanin’ jes to run de barrels fo’ joo.  Ain’t dat worth sumpin?”

The unwashed peon of a troll in a T’chali uniform looked at Kardnal and shook his head sadly.  “Ah sorry mon, dey be rules, and joo done a lot, dat fo’ sho…but joo ain’ got ‘nuff, and dey’s on’y two hours left.  Look, Vinnee ovah dere, him already be packin’ up.  Brewfest is ovah, mon, joo gon’ hafta wait till next year.”

“Bruddah…bruddah mon, c’mon,” Kardnal said, trying desperately to keep the desperate from bleeding through, “now joo know what ah be…joo know dat ah could go all Dark Side of de Mojo on joo and like, suck de life forces out joo like dat Tauren ovah dere be suckin’ de last outta dat keg.  Now ah know neider joo, nor ah wants dat…jes’ gimme summin’ ta do…ah don’ care what it is…ah done whored mahself to joo enough, ah kin do more…dey’s,” he looked at the lightening skies on the horizon, “what, like a hour anna half lef’?  Surely dey’s summin' ah kin do?”

The T’chali grunt looked at Kardnal, saying nothing.

“C’mon mon, don’ make me beg.  Ah will…but ah really don’ wanna.”

“Hey!” the vendor said suddenly, “joo know what?  Ah do know what joo kin do, mon.  Get up off de dirt, joo ain’ gotta beg.”  Kardnal got off his knees and dusted his pants off.  “Dis what joo do mon, an’ ah give joo nuff tickets fah yo ram.”

The T’chali troll turned and rummaged through a large book.  He took two sheets of paper out and then bent down and picked up a locked box made out of steel with an official Orgrimmar Tax Office seal etched into it.  “Here, joo take our receipts and dis tax cut on up to de palace, and joo come back, and ah be givin’ joo tickets.”

“Fo’ reals?  Aw mon, joo be de best!” Kardnal said, pulling the reins of a ram nearby free of the post and vaulting into the saddle, “Ah be back inna jiff!”

The T’chali vendor watched the priest ride off, kicking up a massive cloud of red dust.  “Ja, ah be de best…he musta nevah done de tax papahrwork afo’.  Hope he makes it back afo’ we be gone.

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One hour and ten minutes later, Dark Templar Kardnal Zu’pala clattered to a stop in front of the wagon into which the T’chali Brewery people had packed everything.  “Wait!” he yelled as he leapt out of the saddle, “ah gots yo’ papahwork!  Here,” he said, thrusting it into the vendor’s hands, “now…ah done all joo said…gimme a ram, please?”

The vendor shook his head, “Sorry Kardnal, ah done giv' de last one dat we had away jus’ minutes ago.  Here, take dis wooden blank ovah to Ray, he be hookin’ joo up.  Tanks fo’ yo help dis festival!  Joo come back next year, mebbe we get one of dem really fast, ebil lookin’ goats fah joo!”  With that, the vendor smacked the reins against the kodos in the traces and the massive wagon groaned to a start.

Kardnal raced to his raptor and leapt up on it.  With a short, fast, teeth-rattling, bouncy ride, the kind that all raptors gave and the kind that Kardnal hated with a passion, he arrived at Ram Master Ray.  The goblins were leading the last of the racing rams they had into a huge, two-level wagon.

“Stop, stop, fo’ Du’jil’s sake, stop!” Kardnal cried, falling off his mount, “please, fo’ de love of de gods, look what ah gots!”

Ray’s assistant looked at the wooden medallion.  Then he looked at Kardnal, who, finally having lost his patience and dealing with only a goblin after all, had shifted into the shadows and glared balefully at the little green man.  “Ah be one wit de Dark Side of de Shadows, mon, don’ make me regret what ah gots to do next.”

The goblin gulped, looked around and said, “Hey, whattya know.  Lookit what I gots over here man…as fine a ram as you’ll ever want!  Only ridden once, by a sin’dorei lady on the way to her wedding!  This is your ram, yessiree it sure is!”

Kardnal looked at it.  It was skinny, it looked mildly depressed, and it was limping slightly.  It looked like it had just gotten back from One Barking Trip Too Many.

“Dat be wunnerful, mistah goblin.  Joo saved mah favorite one.  Here,” Kardnal said, flipping the surprised goblin the wooden token, “ah just be takin’ dis here barrel of apples wit me.  Joo have a nice trip.”

Kardnal carried the barrel of apples and led his ram on a tether as he made his way into the Valley of Spirits.  By the water, near the great fire the orcs kept burning, he laid the barrel down and turned to the ram.

“So…what ah gon’ name joo, eh?” he asked the ram as he took out a stiff brush that he had previously used to scratch his raptor with, “ah got some names…ah see which one joo respond to…”  Kardnal stepped back as the ram started eating apples out of the great barrel.

“Hey ram…hey…lookee here ram...” Kardnal began, trying names one by one.  The ram did not respond to Batrin or Dahj.  It almost looked up at Esdee, but shrugged it off.  Jet and Hiderawlic didn’t work either.  In desperation, Kardnal tried the last one he’d thought of.

“Hey ram…Hairy Rama…Hairy Rama, Rama Rama…Hairy Hairy!”  And the ram raised its head, twitched its ears, dropped a pile of black kibble turds and trotted over to the priest.  “Joo gotta be kiddin’.” Kardnal said, “joo like Hairy Rama?  Okay mon, whatevah.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a chunk of rock candy.  “Dere ya go Hairy…and while we’s at it, let’s heal up dat leg.”

Kardnal appealed to the gods…and as Hairy Rama’s leg began to heal under his hands, Kardnal smiled.  Last minute…and worth it.

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((One and a half hours before server rolling restart and the end of brewfest, that glorious yellow exclamation mark reopped over the vendors' heads and I was able to do the last barker that I needed.  620 tickets!  I only wish Kardnal had told me earlier he wanted a ram...then I wouldn't have had to sweat out the last seconds...oh, and those are all ram names that my characters have given their rams...Habeas rides Dahj, my druid rides Hiderawlic, Hoarkin rides Essdee (the gnomes think it's hilarious...most people go huh?), and Horkin rides Batrin.  I didn't get a sixth one for Jet...such is life))