Building a Home ((RP CHALLENGE!!))

[Alt-Girl]

((What too much free time makes me do.))

Azani ran a hand through her hair as she let out a groan of frustration. With the sudden departure of her twice-over guildmistress, the rogue had been left in charge along with Mnia, Ruzhia, and Doskious. Inherent cynicism dictated that this change would buy precious little time and that perhaps she should see guildship elsewhere. "No!" Azani shook her head so as to banish the thought from her mind. "I've already seen one guild fall. I will not allow this one to go the way of the Tribe."

The night elf fell back into a nearby chair and put a hand to her chin. "There has to be some way to maintain the Eilon... give it some sort of... stability..." Thoughts of the joking guild chatter about "the guild couch" suddenly popped up in her mind. "That's it!"

Whistling for Snowshadow, Azani rode at break-neck speeds to the inn's mailbox ((the one true mailbox)) and penned a quick letter to her guildmates*.

I have a brilliant plan to save the Eilon. We need to start constructing an incredibly awesome guild hall at once. Solidarity and morale would increase as a result. Besides, it beats staying in an inn! Stupid dwarves don't have beds because they're too busy drinking to sleep! But I digress...

In addition to submitting suggestions for the layout of the guild hall, labor is also required to build it. Money is a bit tight and none of us are very good at constructing such things, so... alternative methods of acquiring help will be necessary. Keep it as legal as possible and bear in mind that unless your workers are highly skilled, we need a considerable amount more of them. Best of luck to those who elect to participate and may your blades strike true.

Azani Stormwolf

((Note: The sentiments expressed by Azani in no way correlate to Alt-Girl's opinions. 'Zani's seen this happen before and she's nervous. Alt-Girl, on the other hand, knows that the EK is too awesome to go down.

Second note: The guild hall itself was actually the idea of someone other than me. To see exactly who, scroll down and read the names posted by people who have a better head for these kinds of things. [/edit] Credit for the less than orthodox procurement of labor, however, is mine. So worship me too. WORSHIP! *shakes fist* {ICly, 'Zani thinks this it's her idea, but heard about it while drunk and just doesn't remember.}

Now on to the actual RP CHALLENGE!! As the "Guild Couch" thread shows, there are tons of places to seek such labor and maybe not have to pay for it. Blizzard's put many NPC peons, workers, and slaves into this game (though anything with opposable thumbs will suffice). How will you make them work for us while spending as little money as possible? Pick an instance or location or whatever and tell a story of how you would persuade the (most likely enemy) humanoids there to work for the EK.

This is basically free-form, but here are some suggestions.

- Try to make it something that your character might conceivably be able to do. For example, if Radinax is going to "hire" Van Cleef and his men, the idea that he would use brute force is just a tad far-fetched. Though get 'im drunk enough and he might just try.

- Actual hiring is not unacceptable, but probably not as interesting to read about.

- Be creative with it. Just because the in-game mechanics don't allow you to negotiate, bribe, intimidate, or con doesn't mean they're out of bounds. If there are too many "{Character} walks into {instance} and kills {mobs} until {mob leader} agrees to help," stories, this idea'll get old fast.

- Have fun!

If no one else posts, then I'll just post stuff for my alts, but I really wanna see other people get in on this.))

[Mniaron]

((
Bah, Mnia takes credit for the guild couch itself, the guild bar, and the Gnomish Cheftender 8000! <giggle>--but Cheftender was a completely random invention in guild chat when Dae was still here, and Mnia probably couldn't have imported him herself... so the IC background is that Mnia asked Dosk to build it for her. (An initial IC factoid is that the Cheftender's yummy foodstuffs often have strange but benign side effects.) Eh, I suppose Cheftender could serve other people too. Harrumph. Mnia gets all the [Curiously Tasty Omelets], though. Anyway. (Actually, the 'guild hall' idea came up in the background a while ago but we never actually 'manifested' it until now. I shall not mention its initial source, though.)

Since Eraal joined when the guild hall was already largely 'complete' and working, this really is IC backstory for its actual construction, I guess.
))

Mniaron browsed through her mailbox and plucked a crumpled note from the pile. Frowning at the appalling penmanship, she opened it and began to read. "Mm, a fine idea, but we'd best get active lest Azani gets excessively creative about it...," she thought to herself, "like hiring brainwashed evil goblins who could conceivably poison us in our sleep..."

Pulling a feathered pen from her own bag, Mnia wrote in fine script:

A guild hall is wonderful for centralizing our operations, and I suggest we consider location first and build it before interviewing potential employees--there will be an interview process, right?

I liked our planar tour under Stormwind, and with Doskious' planar expertise, we might be able to set up our hall there in a pocket plane--private, yet centrally located. Naturally, the rest of the (heretofore known as) Understormwind would be our guild's "front yard" for larger activities.

I require only a place for food and drink; a bar would be nice. Likewise, at least one couch is required... since you know I enjoy sleeping around in odd spaces as kitty.

As for future labor, I haven't considered this much at the moment, but bear in mind that I have plenty of funds that I can donate... but said potential employees would obviously undergo scrutinous interview and review. ^_^

((
As a side note, I'm curious if /say in the Understormwind is visible to players in Stormwind. Imagine RPing under there and confusing everyone.
))

[Daeliria]

(( Actually, I'm fairly certain the Guild Living Room, though not termed as such, was laid out by Doskious first...and then shot down. XD

Should I get a reprieve from schoolwork soon, I will certainly contribute something towards the tail end of this. ))

[Mnia]

((
Can't log in... <_<
Oh, the guild living room was Dosk's idea, yes. But the very first mention of a "hall" in guild chat was actually from Aimbora, at least when I was around. >_> I'll want to experiment later if people in Stormwind can year /say from the Understormwind. Any computer is still dead, and I'm getting annoyed at the tech support.
))

[Alt-Girl]

((Well Rue drew a picture of it and I got super confused. My post will be duly edited.))

[konradexius]

Checking his mail, Konrad finds 'Zani's letter.
He grins. Now he knows what he wants to do today.
He sifts through his bags until he finds his mining pick and blacksmithing hammer, before setting to work.
'But what material to use? Copper's too weak, gold too soft, iron rusts...'
He stops. A guildhall is not made entirely of metal. Damn. Konrad needs wood!
So, with a pocket full of coin, he rides out to Eastvale logging camp to purchase lumber en masse.
Naturally, upon arriving he discovers that there is some sort of problem, with wood shipments being hijacked by murlocs or somesuch.
Konrad has no time for dumb fetchquests! Especially ones that involve murlocs!
Hefting his favorite axe, he finds a suitable tree and fells it with a single blow. But strong as he may be, it's a freakin' tree. Konrad can't carry it.
Not that that would stop him! Ignoring such things as "Location", "Convenience" and perhaps "Common sense", he begins construction then and there.
He is attacked by a mangy wolf, and wonders why they still try.
And so, after long last, Konrad has constructed a small shed.
A butterfly lands ontop of the shed.
...
Konrad still doesn't know why the shed exploded, but has vowed to leave the carpentry to someone who has some idea what they're doing.

[Mniaron]

((
...That was so adorable that Mnia has to give Konrad a bearhug.
For some reason, she thought of Gourry from Slayers. ... <cough>
>_>
))

[Alt-Girl]

((I agree with Mnia. Excellent work, Konrad! ;D If anyone else has a different method for getting the guild hall built, then by all means. Kvestion: Is your favorite axe the "I'm wielding modern art" one? Anyway, in keeping with the adorable, here is how Maladin would go recruiting.))

Malyris Raskol was standing in Northshire Abbey, a box under one arm and a letter from her favorite 'Zani clenched in her fist."You're mad, girl!" Marshal McBride bellowed at her. "You claim that you can get rid of the kobolds while wearing a dress?"

"Yuh-huh!" the blonde chirped, gesturing with the box.

"What's in it?" Deputy Wilhelm butted in, having grown tired of directing acolytes into the large and quite obvious building.

Malyris put a hand to her chin. "The thing is... I don't remember." The two men snorted.

"If all the new recruits are like her, I'd have to say that the Abbey is doomed," McBride murmured.

The blonde's ears perked up, though she remained oblivious to the insult. "I'm not new!" Digging through her military issue backpack, Mal produced a yellowing piece of parchment. The old marshal skimmed it and his eyes widened in shock.

"I don't believe it!" he exclaimed.

"What?" the deputy asked, craning his neck to see.

"This daft wench has seen more combat that the two of us combined!"

"Unbelievable."

"Can I go now?" the blond whined childishly.

The two men underwent a drastic change and beamed at the blonde. "Of course!" McBride replied gleefully, clapping Mal on the shoulder. As the pink dress wearing woman walked away, the marshal whispered to his subordinate, "Give her ten minutes and those kobolds will be finished!"

Malyris gulped reflexively as she stared down the mouth of the cave. She was far stronger than the creatures that lie within, but being here brought back memories... Shaking the thoughts from her mind, the blonde took her first clanky step forward. Immediately, several voices cried out in unison, "YOU NO TAKE CANDLE!!" Mal watched in terror as about a dozen of the creatures charged at her. "What do I do?" she wondered, as sweat began to gather under her collar. Then the details of her ingenious plan came flooding back.

"Me give candle!" she chirped happily, opening the box under her arm and inverting it. Out poured dozens of long white candles, courtesy of Morgan Pestle in Stormwind. The creatures stopped their assault and gazed in awe at the gift. One of them made a 'wark?' noise and approached the candles nervously, poking one with its club.

"CANDLE!" the kobold proclaimed, and the others made what seemed to be happy noises and gathered up as many candles as they could carry.

Once every kobold was loaded up to the point of being a fire hazard, Malyris beamed, then screwed up her face in concentration. "Um... You build, get more candle?" she asked. The kobolds chittered amongst themselves in a strange tongue then nodded eagerly.

"Excellent! Le's go!" The creatures blinked in confusion. She pulled an errant candle out of her bag. "Follow candle?" A loud warkish cry rang out and every single laborer in the cave and outside it followed the blonde human towards the abbey.

"We're under attack!" Jorik Kerridan cried out, quickly abandoning his duties at the stables. McBride and Wilhelm hurried to the scene and the three of them slaughtered the kobolds in a lengthy and bloody battle. The paladin hurriedly healed Jorik, who was seriously wounded, then turned to the two military men, who were fixing her with cold and angry stares.

"Um..." She held up the waxy stick in her hand. "You want candle?"

((Gah, sorry about length. *sigh* Anywho, you guys are awesome. Keep the RP coming! )

[Mniaron]

((
Awwww, that was cute! <kittypats Maly> And *ROFL*.
))

A day or two had passed. Mniaron tied the lure securely to her fishing pole and lazily tossed it into Lordamere Lake as the sun was setting over the horizon.

"Haven't gotten another note lately..." She stared at the hypnotic waves lapping at the bobber. "...I wonder if this means everyone is feverishly thinking up ideas."

Her eyes wandered off the bobber to the small, colorful blobs roaming on the island across from the shore. Murlocs. She frowned and snapped back to attention as the fishing pole in her hands jerked. Pulling her catch into her bag, a grin grew across her face. "That would be so adorable... little murlocs to do our bidding! Hm, I wonder if they could be tam--err, convinced... Maybe I'll just go look for a bit."

Mniaron stuffed her fishing pole into her pack and lept into the water, promptly shifting into her angry-looking seal form. Upon reaching the island shore, she quickly shifted into kitty form and surveyed the colorful island inhabitants, gauging their hierarchy and other notable things--perhaps any treasures that they fancied.

A low, burbling growl caught her attention, however, and Mniaron turned her head slowly to stare at a little, bristling, spear-waving murloc doing its best to glare her down.

"Mew?"

Suddenly, Mnia felt several sharp jabs as not one, but three rather angry murlocs poked her with sharp sticks. Her ears drooped slightly. "This isn't going as planned..." She dodged a bit and finally sighed, raising a paw to smartly smack one on its rotund head, sending it reeling away. As the other two murlocs turned to blink at their fallen comrade, the druid took her leave and jumped into the lake with a splash.

Having quickly healed and then changed into a set of dry clothes, Mniaron stood in front of the mailbox in Hillsbrad with her quill and a piece of parchment in hand. "It might be more productive if we have an actual meeting about it rather than deal with cross-correpondence and potentially hazardous, individual experimentation. Hmmm."

((
Ending there for various reasons.
Where eez Dosk and Rue? Mew!
))

[Doskious Steele]

Finally emerging from his arduous and exhaustive research into the permeability of dimensional boundaries (they're rather porous) and the attendant methods of breaching them for fun and profit (not much of either), and the follow-up research into why and how these conditions exist (Dissertation to be published shortly, watch this space), Doskious checks his mail and observation-bots.

"Great scot! Actual construction of a Guild Hall! And in a dimensional pocket as well! Mesaana, get my DimensionalDrafter© and my X-17 ((Experimental Engineer's Pod Version 4)) - I'm going to look into this. Hold the fort until I return."

So saying, Doskious departed his Dimensional Fortress and re-entered the World of Azeroth proper, finding himself in Winterspring. Feeling a rumbling in his bag, he withdrew the collapsed X-17 Pod and watched in resigned sadness as it first imploded then exploded. "I knew I had forgotten something in the core shielding... I'll have to make a note of that." Taking out his hearthstone, he activated it for a shorter trip to Menethil Harbor than via Gryphon and Ship. Zoirk The world shifted around him, and he was in Menethil. The Gryphon Master provided a flight to Ironforge, where he briefly checked in with the Gnomish Engineering Guild's Archives department, with an eye to reading up on Real structures deployed in Dimensional pockets. To his dismay, the only book with refrences to the subject had last been checked out by none other than Kel'Thuzad, not long before his departure from the Kirin Tor and his subsequent journey to Northrend. His activities there have since become common knowledge, but no mention was ever made of the book. Contemplating a trip to Northrend in the back of his mind, Doskious resolved to investigate if the book ever, in fact, left Dalaran. Mounting another Gryphon for Southsore, he continued to ponder... "Well, if the book is lost, I suppose I'll just have to wing it. Maybe the Mages have it though. Perhaps it's inside the dome. That would be unfortunate. Unless I was allowed in... Hmmmm..."

He made his way North from Southshore across the Hillsbrad Foothills, mounted on his Nightmare steed, a horse-demon conjured equally from shadow and flame. Arriving at the Great Dome, he addressed himself to Archmage Ansirem Runeweaver. "Good afternoon, Magi, I would have a word with you if I may." It developed that in the chaos surrounding the destruction of Dalaran in the last war, the possible location of the book (if it had been left behind at all) had been lost. Doskious turned to survey the area outside the dome as best he could, hoping to locate some clue to the book's whereabouts.

As he wandered, his eyes lit upon the elementals doing most of the manual labor in the Dalraani reconstruction effort, and a thought occurred to him.

...

Several hours later, he returned to Southshore to catch a Gryphon to Stormwind to survey the actual building site, after posting a letter to his guildmates.

The letter reads as follows:

Friends,
I have a suggestion or two to make regarding the construction of our Guild Hall.

Firstly, according to the fragment of a page I recovered outside Dalaran, it's absolutely essential to provide some sort of Stability, dimensionally speaking. An active Portal or Gate to a fixed point in Stormwind would accomplish this rather well, and could be keyed for admission to prevent the influx of an undesirable element. Something akin to the setup at the top of the Wizard's tower in the Mage quarter, I'm thinking.

Secondly, I have negotiated the potential to borrow some of the Elemental Slaves used by the Dalraani in their reconstruction efforts. Archmage Runeweaver is waiting on my reply as to how many we would like and for how long.

Kindly render your observations as to the feasibility of these suggestions with relative expeditiousness, for I would dislike to keep the Archmage waiting any longer than is necessary.

Yours,
Doskious Steele
Lord of the Fel

[Alt-Girl]

((Tsk tsk, Dosk. You clearly do not know the origins of fel ponies. But that's beside the point. Ice is up to bat and once he's through being infuriated at Dosk, he might be sane enough to aid the effort. Or not to.))

Icelus returned to the study and praised whatever deities existed that the Amastacia clan was still on vacation. Depositing himself in a padded leather chair, the brunet opened the first of three letters.

"Guild Hall?" he murmured. His curiosity piqued, he read through the letter and was amazed at the words before him and their order. "Dalaran... Wizard's Tower? Must've meant the Sanctum. Runeweaver? Pulling elementals away from the reconstruction effort at Dalaran? Who does this nut think -" Hazel eyes widened in shock as he reached the end of the letter. "Doskious Steele... Lord -" A flash split the dark room as the correspondence burst into flames. Icelus didn't care if the guards saw, didn't care if they burst into the house, didn't care if they arrested him for breaking and entering... He just...

If there was one thing Icelus hated more than the corrupt scum that had the nerve to attach to themselves the word 'noble', it was worthless do-nothings who called themselves lords and ladies because they wanted to emulate such people without all the responsibility.

The mage sank deeper into the chair. This was only the second time he had lost his temper, and the absolute first time he had lost control of his magic. So what if the little gnome who had the audacity to refer to himself as “Lord” had managed to convince the horrifically stubborn Runeweaver to surrender whatever he desired? It was no skin off his ear. The warlock was probably making most of it up. There was no way that Ansirem Runeweaver would voluntarily surrender elementals. Maybe the humans, who required food, sleep, and pay, but the Elemental Slaves were the perfect workers. No man in his right mind would relinquish them. Perhaps Runeweaver had finally cracked... The brunet chuckled as he read the gnome's somewhat obvious assessment of portals and again as he scanned his idealistic plan of 'portal keying'. Temporary mage portals could be attuned to permit only one's comrades and no others; however, even that requires a mage's complete concentration and focus. A fixed portal will simply take whoever walks through it from point A to point B. Maybe Larimaine Purdue could pull it off, but given the vast quantities of gold that came to her by way of training young mages in portal creation, it was unlikely that she would leave such a post to work for a small-time guild. Finally calm enough to not want to freeze Doskious and drop him into the Great Forge, Icelus opened his next letter. In it was a rather frenzied explanation of what exactly the gnome had been trying to do courtesy of Azani Stormwolf. The next, a letter from Mniaron saying that perhaps they should have a meeting to discuss their plans.

“A voice of reason,” he muttered with relief. The rogue's tactics might have worked on pirates ships in the past, but those men had no hope of escape. On dry land, any impressed enemy might easily turn on them.

He wrote in tiny script:

Guildmates,

I apologize for my delayed response. I had not checked my mail for several days due to my busy schedule.

Miss Stormwolf, your plan to recruit help, while innovative, has a very strong chance of backfiring. Surrendering the location of our hall to enemies would be foolish, and could lead to many retaliatory attacks once the work is finished. You must be certain that you can keep them in line or else have a less belligerent plan to acquire help. I suggest we take the advice of Mniaron and have a meeting to discuss ideas.

As for you <here is a splotch of ink, as if a quill was kept there a long time> Doskious, I find the whole concept of portals and dimensional pockets unnecessary, dangerous, and a waste of time. Any enemy of ours who can find Understormwind can surely find a portal and walk through it. So unless you want to hire Larimaine Purdue, Stormwind's foremost expert on portals (I have it on good authority that she's made over a hundred gold in a single day), to keep out the unwanted, then the idea is unquestionably foolish. Also, I would advise against depriving Archmage Runeweaver of his Elemental Slaves and their controllers. They are vastly superior to the human workers and you do want to seen Dalaran restored, do you not?

Inform me of a time for a meeting and I will most certainly attend.

Sincerely,

Icelus paused a moment and wondered if it would be wise to reveal his affiliation with the Stormwind nobles. Most of the lot were corrupt, even his own father had engaged in some dirty dealings years back, and signing the letter officially might tarnish his reputation. Eventually, he decided that if they were truly his comrades, they wouldn't care. No one outside of Stormwind really seemed to.

Lord Icelus Roland Amastacia
Stormwind House of Nobles

Sealing the letters with his family crest, Icelus grinned smugly before passing out due to extreme exhaustion. ((And mailed the letters when he woke up.))

((Well, that's that. Yeah, Ice is a Stormwind noble. His father is very minor, but he's a noble nonetheless. He doesn't particularly care for them and strives to be different. Normally, he wouldn't mention it but as seen above, he finds people who create their own titles below even the scummiest noble, so he's posturing. However, he is contemplating changing his name to Icelus Amastacia, Lord of Cheese, but needs to check with Trias first.))

[Mniaron]

((
A change in plans.
))

Mniaron studied the thick parchment in her hands, slowly rereading the letter. She carefully folded it back up and stood still for a moment, holding it carefully as though any movement might break it.

As it were, she knew that the Guild Hall construction had slowed considerably due to lack of time and materials. "It will just have to wait...." she thought to herself. "Possibly indefinitely."

Finally releasing the breath she didn't realize she had held, Mnia walked purposefully into the Blue Recluse, ordered a drink, and sat in a secluded spot. Taking out her quill and a sheet of parchment, all the while eyeing the folded letter she had placed on the table beside her drink, she began to write:

Greetings.

I hope this letter finds all of you well. I realize we have all been busy with different obligations that have spread ourselves far and wide; there is nothing wrong with that. 'Tis merely a natural event for many of us as we have accrued more duties with greater experience in life.

I've received notice from my parents of such duties and have been summoned away from the adventuring life. I will leave in less than two weeks, as it were. If members are available in that time, I would like to throw a small party to remember the good times we've had. I will not ponder what might have been nor play with words what we know innately: Eilon, as is defined by her members, is necessarily being wisped away. Let us not consider this fact with great despair, however. So long as we have been spirited away to activities that make us happy or that fulfill a great duty (preferably both), I see nothing wrong with it.

The guild hall construction will likely be canceled, but that is all right. We can make good use of the various taverns around Stormwind for a last huzzah. I will give more detail, if possible, later in such a setting.

If this letter does not reach you in time, then I bid you a fond farewell, friends. May Cenarius leave blooms around your path, may Elune always light your way.

Sincerely and with no regrets,
Mniaron Starstrand

[Doskious Steele]

Doskoius paused in his study of the Chaos that trapped him. That had been a tug. It almost felt like ... home? He focused all the attention he could spare from his wards on the sensation. It was something close to home, close enought at least. He diverted magic away from the wards maintaining his air in the island of calm in the twisting maelstrom, and blended it with the Wildpower surging around him. Just a trickle was all, but even that much of a touch caused a surge against the fixed, outer barriers. Yet it was worth it, for an oval portal began to form, and there was no Chaos on the other side. The portal was clearly unstable, exhibiting several piecewise deviations in it's curvilinear boundary, but that was beneath the warlock's notice. He handed off control of the inner wards to Aelnia and bent more of his own Art into the portal, forcing it into better focus. The image of the other side firmed, and almost caused him to loose the spell from shock. It was a Mailbox. Nothing else, just a Gnomish Mailbox, complete with spring and envelope. It floated against a featureless black void, the envelope sigil swaying slightly back and forth. Doskious realized that the portal was not yet complete, as the interior "surface" rippled loke the surface of a lake under a brisk breeze. He seized more Wildpower and channeled it into the boundary matrix. There were spirals forming in the deviant portions of the edge, but the portal firmed further, and thinned. Doskious reached out, slowly, and established contact. He had a letter. There was a jolt, and suddenly he had a mailbox as well, and was missing a portal. The abrupt termination of his flow of Wildpower made him dizzy, but he examined the letter from Mniaron as his head cleared.