The Experiment (How a race change really works)

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(I deleted the monk, Ravenna, the other day. I have tried and failed. Monk is my most hated class. Instead I went for the next best leather thing; Rogue. Now … see, here’s my problem: There are no draenei rogues. So I had to create a ‘draenei in spirit’ rogue. That’s when I thought of … mogu technology. I mean – someone must have found all that stuff in Throne of Thunder, right? And puti t to use? Likely with an acoutrement of green smoke.

If you ever wondered what happens when you decide on a race change – or, for that matter, class change – this might give some insight. You see, in spirit, Ravennah the night elf rogue is still a draenei.

She just don’t look draenei.

This story contains a gnome, a goblin and a mysterious human.

You have been warned.)

– – – – – –

“This thing on!?” Echoing across the frozen plain. “Right, it is! Goblin titan artifact repurposing unit assisting Gnomeregan Engineers fiftysecond reg Tee! No one ever say Speeds don’t get the contract, amiriite, right!? Yeah, so! Tee I Subject: Zero! Zero! One! Dash! Nine! Six! Five! Fo– seriously, you gnomes need all these numbers!? You do? Huh. Four! Eight! Nine! Nine! Ravennah, be a doll and … Enter the Blast Chamber!”

Ravennah heard it loud and clear but she didn’t move. For almost two minutes everyone was quiet. Spaz Fizzlefuse was silent. The junior engineers were quiet. Even the poisonous blobs were quiet.

Echoing across the frozen plain. A voice. There was a high-pitched but polite gnomeadding: “Please?” The voice was somewhat frantic and nervous. “I know you volonteered and we can’t ask you to move your behind any fast–”
(“Mighty fine ass to it is,” the goblin interjected)
“–er but … Well yes, absolutely. You know, Speeds, I’ve often wondered what it would be like to, you know, get some. With one of those. I’m prone to probing the behind of certain subjects of my … anyway!”

Ravennah decided not to get angry. There was other things on her mind. Most of all the eighteen feet wide black hole in the plain, a hole from which a thick stream of green smoke was rising. The hole was surrounded by heavy metal blast plates set up in some sort of pattern that probably was important. How she didn’t know.

“Ya like I mean like absolutely like totally sure this like be safe, guys!?” she screamed, just to be certain that the ‘researchers’ in their blast chamber across the frozen fields of New Tinkertown would hear her. “I mean it’s like green smoke’n’all ya kno’!?”

“Yeah, dollface!” the voice exploded across the fields. “Safe as a paladin in a house of lewd ladies!”
“Is that a metaphor for sexual pleasures?” the pitched voice said, the tone being honest and extremely curious. “Mind telling me where to find this lovely locale? Are there draenei there? I wasn’t asked to storm the portal, oh no, they didn’t think I would be of much use you see, and I mean just because my cousin Millhouse got … Well,… never mind. Let’s focus, shall we!?”
“Right doll!” the goblin echoed across the plain. “It’s safe! There’s a horny gnome in my booth so get a move on or you’re fired!”
“We can’t fire her. She volonteered and I don’t think we will find anyone stupid e- I mea–”
“IT GETS IN THE MACHINE OR ELSE IT WON’T GET PAID!!!” a human voice exploded through a bullhorn across the desolation of a poisonous field. “Please!” Then, as if the speaker forgot the bullhorn, there was a short and angry “damned blueskins, always talking ba– is this thing still on?”

“Yeah,” the goblin said. “Oh now you’ve done it! She’ll go all vindicator on us!”

But, alas, she didn’t.

There was another tense pause. Minutes dragged by. Important things kept happening on screens and strange apparatuses. Speedy Paddlefeet didn’t konw what any of it meant. He just swallowed hard and whiped his brow. The test subject was currently not moving on the other side of the lake. He waited, but nothing happened. So he leaned back fast, covering the mouthpeace of the bullhorn with the palm of his hand and whispered to himself:
“Come o-ooon, girl!”

“I wish she would turn around … ” Sizzle the gnome said in a sort of far away, dreamy tone. His eyes had glazed over, as if he was lost in a daydream. “Dat ass … ”

On the other side of the field of death, Ravennah tried to convince herself to go forth. After all – wasn’t this an adventure? She had longed for a good adventure! Stacking boxes of supplies for heroes set out on a supposed suicide mission had, in fact, been pretty boring. So when a goblin showed up in Goldshire (she went there for drinks and ‘recreation’) and offered her a deal of a lifetime she jumped on it. Without thought.

Now, well … Now she knew what he wanted.

In the blast chamber, Speedy started to sweat even though it was below freezing and he wore nothing but a knitted linen vest and leather hot pants (those kept his important parts warm; it was a goblin thing). He pleaded with her, silently in his own mind. Go! Go!

She had to move! Everything depended on her moving, going down the tunnel they had bored with the help of dark iron tunnelers that Speedy also had ‘aquired’ (don’t ask how). Engineer Sizzlefuse – a gnome, despite his goblinesque name – was in charge, sure. But it was Speedy, the Booty Bay goblin trader, who had “aquired” the prototype. Suffice to say he had ‘come across it’ somewhere in or around Halls of Origination. Of course he didn’t tell the test subject! He was a very smart goblin!

On the other side of the frozen, toxic lake, Ravennah sighed. This was indeed a really bad idea … She didn’t mind the cold (even though she wore nothing but her underwear). She did mind that bit about not getting paid. She had been promised two thousand gold upon completion of a ‘simple but intriguing experiment’. That was a lot of money – especially for someone who didn’t want to write a letter to a sister, once again. A letter starting with a ‘Dear Shu, I am writing in hope of you being able to extend a small sum of money to me … “. There had been a lot of those letters. The latest reply had been short. A single syllable word on a very cheap postcard from Pandaria: NO.

She had never been any good with money. Desperation and defiance – that was probably the main reason she was here. A single step was all that stood between her and a large some of money. So she took a deep breath …

She trod on something. It went ‘Squish’. Next thing she knew she was covered in foul green sludge. It itched. It smelled bad. She stumbled forward, tripping on a piece of ancient debris – and went head first down the hole with a short and suprised scream.

Then there were smoke.

She didn’t know how long she was unconscious. The one thing she did know was a worried goblin voice muttering “Oh now you’ve done it!”. Then a frantic gnome voice wheezing “What happens in Gnomer stays in Gnomer!”.

She emerged from the smoke. Slowly, every step a calculated movement, as if she had been transformed into something else, something that was still unused to walking. Then there was another voice. It was her voice. It said:

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!?”

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There was a pause. Then Speedy said, as he gently started to back up against a wall: “Will there be blood?”

“Count on it,” Ravennah said.

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The lamp – a Legendary writing quest

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This pic has nothing to do with the words below. But I thought a scantily clad draenei and a prince … uh … anyway!

Introduction: The other day in WoW Insiders The Queue I made a comment that to some people was a bit confusing. All of it is too meta to actually explain, so just accept the following: One of the replies to the comment I made suggested that I should create something surreal based on a single sentence. For some reason the idea of starting with a horrible sentence – horrible in every sense – took hold of me.

There are things worse than ”It was a dark and stormy night” … for some reason I am constantly intrigued by the thought that maybe one could do something good with all this horror.

You see, I am a writer. I’m not a very succesful writer (so far) but it’s the only thing I know. Sometimes, in my darkest hours, I think that the way things are going right now I will probably end up like my mothers uncle. He left behind hundreds of notebooks with poems and unfinished novels (a handful of them survived; most of them was tossed on an april bonfire because his family thought that the Written Word was junk; I’m a descendant of hardcore intolerant working class – you either sweat or you’re nothing).

I published a Real Book – the paper kind – in 2006,wich was the end of a very long struggle in many ways. It wasn’t much of a success, mostly because of extremely poor marketing from the very small independent publisher I hooked up with, but its actually a pretty good tale about the afterlife. Anyway, I’m not giving up. Fuck sake, if a guy with a beard in Maine can do it, so can I (and I’m a lot more interesting! Well ok, not really).

So I’m simply going to put this one out for you. This is as much as you will ever read without paying for it, in some fashion. Sorry ’bout that, but writers need to eat as well, you know. I have no idea if this will ever be a completed project, but I have high hopes that it will. You want to know a secret? Sure you do. I have no idea what will happen.

This is the beginning of the surreal and legendary quest of … you know, I have no idea where it will end. That’s the beuty of imagination gone wild. No wonder there’s things as “project managers”.

(It’s not even WoW-related.)

– – – – – –

”The lamp was hanged from the ceiling.”
Sandra Eriksson bought a lamp. It wasn’t a fancy one, just a lighbulb in a socket on an oldfashioned cord. The lamp was the kind of lamp you could find in any basement and … Wait a second. Did Sandra just hang a lamp?

Sandra did.

The lamp was hanged from the ceiling. This horrible sentence set things in motion that later would be, well, horrible.

”The lamp was hanged from the ceiling.” Those were the first words that Jaynee on the other side of a 911 call … but let’s not get ahead. Sandra will soon get one, you better trust that.
This. Is. What. Happened:

The internet is a fantastic thing. In its infancy there were movies about hackers and crime and terrible terror. Sandra Bullock starred in one of them and that’s how Frida Sandra Amara Alia Eriksson got her name. It just happened – one of those things that just happen. Boy meets girl (don’t worry, they were well beyond their twenties). Then girl asks boy to watch a video (this was back in VHS times). So boy and girl watch a movie. Girl hopes that boy will kiss girl. Now … It goes like this:

This is very frantic. You have been warned. Parental advisory. It’s pretty much SFW of course because this is a book (even if you probably read it on Kindle or something).

Boy is too embarassed and to aware of his hard dick and only puts an arm around her shoulders and tries to eat popcorn in a way that’s not too embarassing because honestly have you ever tried to eat poppies when all you want is to push yourself against her body to feel her breath and breasts and press your lips against her lips and and and oh my God and then somewhere you think ”what the fuck did that one I can’t remember the name what did he do in that movie I need to fucking get my shit together and be just like him and oh fucking hell I’m gonna come in my pants and” yeah well you know what happens right everything just gets messed up and you can’t do a fucking thing because you’re so fucking in LOVE and HORNY and all of a sudden you think you’re a looser because. This. Is. Not. What. Happens! In movies.

In movies.

So girl thinks ”fuck sake just kiss me motherfucker!” and boy just sits there staring at a movie he don’t even like and truth be told girl don’t like Sandra Bullock that much either and so she leans over and kiss the boy because the girl not Sandra Bullock who’s famous byt the girl is just you nobody she’s not even sexy except she is so fucking sexy RIGHT N OW and it’s terribly confusing.

It’s LOVE. Dude, godammit! Bitch, please. You know it! Love is confusing. Love in the early stage is just a messed up bowl of chemicals and invisible naked babies in a linen diaper armed with a bow and arrow – the baby, not the diaper. See? Confusing.Can’t think now. Horny and in love! Oh m_y God why my knees shake!? Much emotion, very love. Wow.

Some people claim God is involved. It’s all very … it’s not something you have time to analyze when Shit Just Got Real.

Dear God she’s so warm and wet and dear God he’s so hard and it feels so good I have to say it but I can’t because you probably seen the porno and I don’t want to be a slut so I shut the fuck up and what if he worries that I will go to the popo and say he raped me and I just want him to be fucking HARD on ME right NOW but srsly what the fuck oh my God I’m coming no not yet sluts come amma just go EEEEE like inna fucking Seinfeld show or FUCK ME!!!

(Did I just say that out loud? Sorry.)

It’s over now. Have a smoke. Or vape (it’s healthier, they say).

See, this is how babies are made. It’s … Vibes. That thing. The thing that just FEELS. RIGHT. Besides, boy was a very polite swedish boy. Sure, things are gonna get fucking real for Sandra but it honestly started with love, her parents loved and still love each other. It was tenderness and no one made a movie that 4Chan later hacked. It was happiness and cool and everyone involved Wanted To Do It. Repeatedly, because that’s what people do.

As things happened that wonderful night, neither of them dared to say it. It’s embarassing, going ”you got a condom?” when it’s all about to go down, ok? You KNOW you have to ask but … So yeah, you’ve been there. Everyone has. Wich is how Sandra came to be. Yes, mom and pop is still a couple. They’re married, too! Just one thing – one thing that annoyed Amara.

Stefan lacked a lamp. At least one she liked.

Sandra came to be. Stefan fucked Amara and oh boy was it good. You know in the early 1990’s everyone knew you had to protect yourself but, yeah. No one fucking cared. No one fucking still care. Besides that, Amara (born in Lebanon) had cool parents (even though they are muslims). They didn’t care because as her father Ali said – ”We’re free now, we need to be free”. One night someone kicked him in the head because he wasn’t white. Ali took it in stride; ”They’ll get used to us, you just wait.”

They never did. Sandra found out that white people didn’t care even though she was, more or less, white. So yeah, you know, all this backstory is pretty fucking boring so let’s get on with it, shall we?

Sandra went to the USA when she was twentyeight. It was a big deal for her. She went to a place where her dad had tried to go to for years. He never got there. He got stuck as a teacher in the Stockholm burbs and then he died. Just like that. Once morning he stood in front of class and pointed at a picture of Victoria Woodhull with his pen. He wasn’t there, not really. He just went through the thing he always did. Curriculum currahee!. So he stood there, pretending to teach young people to think for themselves allthough everyone knew no one fucking cared. He got paid to do it. He thought about last night as his pen mowed and he said stuff a teacher says. He thought about the Land of the Free. He thought of how he drove through New Orleans. He drove, using Google Maps last night. Point and click. Zoom in on a sign. Oh man, I need some po’boys!

Fantasy travel.

Then he twitched, blinked, looked at nothing in parrticular and then he died. Poof! Gone! Just like that. Like a DC from the server. Like God had pushed a button, a circle broken by a straight line. The off button of life.

His iPhone rang, it was the principal, but it was a crying student who answered it.

Bruh, that’s so fucked up.

So Allah moves in mysterious ways. In the end Amara ended up in the sack with Stefan and later on they had two marriages – one christian, one muslim. It was just them, some close friends and that kind of thing. Because neither family wanted to ”mix races”. Stuff like that is important to a lot of people. Especially when you buy a lamp.

Geffrey ”Tone Def” Jayson discovered the lamp shortly after midnight, august 21.

By then it was too late.