The Gospel According to Annahilation

[Annahilation]

(( This is an older story, but I wanted to get something posted because I think this is a really cool idea for a forum. ))

A dreary pall lay over the denizens of the World's End Tavern.  Shifty figures conspired in one corner while a group of haggard-looking ogres smoked their own delight in another corner, enshrouding everything in a thin fog.  The barmaid, thin and beautiful and sticking out like a sore thumb, was the only source of movement, bustling glasses of murky fluids back and forth to her patrons who lazed about on a world that, much like them, no longer spun with impetus.

Twin shadows, one short and thin with the other tall and thick, fell upon the tavern's threshold and every head within turned to behold the visitors from out of their world.  They strode inside, confident in their gait, and made a straight beeline for an empty table, claiming ownership with their bodies.  The tall one, a Tauren dressed in rugged leathers, let loose a loud snort, jingling the ring strewn through his nostrils, as he swept his gaze across the room.  His companion, a fragile Blood Elf frame wrapped head to toe in impenetrable steel, did the same with tiny, darting eyes, their glow piercing the smokey fog.

The barmaid quickly approached, balancing a tray of many mugs.  “Can I get you two anything?”

“A lemonade, please,” spoke the Tauren in a rough, gravely voice.

The Blood Elf turned her head, pleased at the sight of another of her kind, and her lips split into a toothy grin.  “Got any Brightsong Wine?”  The barmaid nodded and was sent off with her order.

The Tauren frowned at his companion.  “You shouldn't be drinking.”

“Yeah well you shouldn't be ugly,” she retorted as she ran her fingertips across the crude knife carvings, the names of miscreants and thugs, etched into the tabletop.  “But you don't see me stopping you.”

He snorted again and shook his head, the dangling chin braids swaying underneath.  “We're here for business.”

“Drinking is my business,” she replied again with another wide grin.  “Relax, would you?  You're making us stand out.”

“It's hard not too.  I take up nearly a sixth of this place.”

The Blood Elf let out a sharp, shrill laugh and flicked a pointed finger toward the trio of surly ogres sizing them up.  “Well then those fatsos take up the rest of it.”

His frown sank deeper as he glanced out of the corner of his eye toward them.  One of the ogres grunted loudly and pounded a fist on his table, knocking over the hooka they were sharing.  “Don't.  I think he heard you.”

“Well then, I guess his hearing isn't as bad as he looks.”

Their drinks arrived and the Tauren immediately began quaffing it, attempting rather unsuccessfully to appear nonchalant to the growing agitation of the ogres.  The Blood Elf, in the meantime, merely took her glass in hand, never breaking eye contact with the rowdiest and largest of the ogres.  Finally, the three of them stood up abruptly.

“They're coming over here, aren't they?” he asked.

“You betcha,” she replied, finally taking a sip of her wine without batting an eyelash.

The three of them lumbered toward the table with the largest ogre in front, his bulbous red belly jiggling abundantly with each weighted footstep.  He stopped, flanked by his friends, and stared down at the Blood Elf with beady little eyes, clouded by the fumes of his indulgence.  “You laugh at Thock?”

She averted her eyes.  “No, of course not,” she said, taking another, longer sip.  The three ogres all looked at each other in confusion during the long pause until she finally put the glass down.  “That was a lie.  Of course I was.”

At her side, the Tauren let out a long, slow groan.

The lead ogre, presumably Thock, scrunched his face up into a mixed expression of anger and constipation.  “You Blood Elf!  We no like them!  Them elves come to city, take over city, think they own city.  Them not welcome!”

She leaned over in her chair, tilting her head around their hulking masses to get a direct line of sight on the barmaid, who was busy cleaning the plethora of dirty glasses behind the counter while ignoring the commotion.  “What about her?”

“She bring drinks.  She okay.”  Thock thrust out his rotund gut and grunted.  “You not bring drinks!  You not okay!”

The armored Blood Elf chuckled softly to herself.  “Yeah alright, that makes sense.”  She took her glass by the stem and offered it up at the ogre.  “Here, try this.  It's very slimming.”

At that remark, the ogre's face suddenly became several shades redder as his entire body stared to shake violently.  Even his companions behind him seemed somewhat unnerved by his composure.  Thock raised a single meaty hand and swung it downward to slap the glass out of her hand.  Every head in the tavern turned as it shattered upon the ground.

Another low sigh came from the Tauren.

Her hand still poised in midair, the Blood Elf slowly raised her eyes, now narrowed into sharpened daggers, to glare directly into the ogre's.  “You just pushed my button.”

A sloppy smile spread across Thock's mouth, confident in his own hubris.  “Which button that?”

“This one.”  With a keening howl, she launched herself upright, smashing the top of her head into the bridge of his nose.  A spurt of blood erupted violently from both nostrils as he toppled backwards into the arms of one of his buddies, leaving the other one gaping uselessly at the sudden attack.  He wasn't expecting the next one.

Reaching behind her, the Blood Elf drew her large hammer from off her back.  Taking a single step forward, she swung it overhead and down upon the unsuspecting toes of the lesser ogre.  His screech echoed through the entire tavern, causing it to erupt in a flurry of movement as every patron scrambled for the door, pushing and tripping over each other in the process.

Having pushed his friend off, the third ogre finally made his move.  Utilizing his large mass, her stampeded toward his tiny prey with an angry bellow,  both arms outstretched.  Anticipating such a move, the Blood Elf simply stepped to his side as he barreled by, and she swung her hammer low to catch his ankle with the underside of the mallet.  His offensive weight suddenly turned against him, the ogre's cry of war transformed to a cry for help as he slammed belly-first into the floor.

With a victory cheer, she seized the initiative and leapt upon the table, knocking aside the Tauren's glass and spilling its contents all over his lap.  “Hey!  Watch it!”

Looking out over the chaos before her, she gave a loud whoop and thumped both fists upon her plated chest.  “Who else!” she yelled out over the din of the crowd.  “Who else wants a piece of the Annahilation!”

The entire tavern was suddenly filled with a blinding light and the sound like that of a thousand screeching raptors.  A violent wind swept threw the building, knocking everyone to the ground except for Anna, who stood firmly rooted atop the table in defiance of the coming threat.  Overhead, the roof of the tavern buckled and finally gave away as it was peel back as easily as a gorilla peeling a banana.  The piercing moonlight of the Terokkar Forest filled the place as two ginormous shadowed peered inside from over the rim.

Anna looked up into the deadly maws of the sibling terrors, Nefarian and Onyxia, lords of the Black Dragonflight come to answer her challenge from the depths of Azeroth.  Rows of sharpened teeth glistened and gnashed, eager to tear into their tiny foe.  And yet Anna merely smirked and hefted her mace in both hands, more than ready.  “Oh yeah.  That's what I'm talking about!”

As both dragons swung down their massive paws, she raised her hammer overhead, ready to strike.

“What?  That's not how it happened at all!  What are you babbling about?”

The rowdy bar scene evaporated to reveal a quieter one in present day, a small table in the corner of the Broken Keel Tavern of Ratchet.  Three figures surrounded the table, sharing drinks as the sleepy inn slowly woke up with the rising sun.  Innkeeper Wiley, slowly sweeping the floor with his broom, wagged a bushy eyebrow toward the commotion emanating from his only guests, particularly the loud-mouthed death knight.

“Do you mind?  I'm trying to tell a story here,” Anna huffed indignantly.

“A tall tale is more like it!” snorted Wilanney, clutching his lemonade in both hands.  “I was willing to let the ogres slide, but what would Nefarian and Onyxia even be doing in Outland?  That doesn't make sense!”

The death knight bent her head low and gave a quiet hiss, baring her fangs.  “I was just trying to make the story more interesting for our guest.”

“The story is interesting enough as is without you having to embellish your own grandiose delusions.”  The druid took a slow sip of his drink, both large eyes rolling to gaze down at his friend over his long snout.

She met his gaze with a glare of her own for several long second before finally shrugging her shoulders in defeat.  “Alright, fine.  You want the boring version?  I can do that.  But hey, don't blame me when our friend here as fallen asleep halfway through.”

Clearing her throat, a curved smile cut across her lips and a gleam flickered in her bright eyes as Anna leaned in closer to the shadowed third party.  “Okay, here's what really happened.”