The old orc sat in a rather tall and luxurious chair at the end of the table. Next to him stood his long time friend, the paladin he had been through so much with. The room was dimly lit as it was late in the afternoon. What small slivers of sunlight still crept through the windows was accompanied by the glow of candles. Yet it was not the impending dusk that had the atmosphere stifled in the room. All those present whispered in hushed voices to each other, guessing what this meeting was for.
The paladin had put his shield and sword down in a corner and his helmet sat on the table. Nothing fancy, he was a functional Tauren. Always had been too. When he first met Orcaholic a long time ago, he was impressed with the warlock's affinity for the dark arts as much as they opposed his side of view. But was more impressive was his age and lengthy track record in service of the Horde. It was for that very reason he had stayed by his side and for that very reason he was here now, with the aging Orc.
Orcaholic put his goblet with Morning Glory Dew down on the rough and unfinished wood of the table. Relishing the aftertaste, as it reminded him of ages past. And that reminded him of his purpose here today and why his closest friends were gather at the table in his house. A glance around the table revealed every race that served the Horde and called Orgrimmar home. He rasped his throat, that seemed dry no matter how much he drank, to get the attention of his visitors. The silence was immediate and heavier then any pauldrons the Tauren Paladin had ever carried.
"Friends", the Orc opened, "you have come here at my request and it pleases me to see this outpour of friendship. I know some of you traveled far to get here", he said as he looked at Kupwned and Elione. The blood elves had their homes in the Eastern Kingdom, although as a Deathknight Elione did not make Silvermoon his home. "And for some of you the trip is as fast as a trek to your local innkeeper!". A small and nervous laughter erupted from the crowd, directed at the mages. Some of them, such as Evariste and Wreighn, had gone out of their way to pick up some of the farther travelers. One of the luxuries of being able to teleport to any location you please, although on the lesser skilled it can be quite taxing.
"There's a veritable council here, a group of friends who I have seen and done many things with. We journeyed through Northrend and survived a Cataclysm, but you know that is not why I called you here. Before Northrend's expedition occurred I was already an active Orc. By Doomhammer's legacy, by then I had been travelling the globe as we know it, and outside of it too, for years already!" The Orc paused, needing a drink of his goblet again. His old, quivering hand met the goblet in mid air, as his faithful friend handed him the kodohorn that held the liquid he was so familiar with.
After he took a deep sip of the Morning Glory Dew he put the goblet down again, and pondered for a moment. He looked at the drink and spoke again: "You know, years ago this stuff was the best one could ask for. It's invigorative properties were prescribed to moonwells and other magic. Together with this drink, I have done a lot of things. It accompanied me into Scholomance when Darkmaster Gandling was not only a force to be reckoned with, but when I could actually learn things from him still!" The orc paused again, both due to his age but also fondly thinking back of the grimoire found in Scholomance as well as the then coveted instructions on creating soul bags. The Tauren cleared his throat, interrupting the walk down memory lane that was taking too long for the audience to appreciate.
"Back then I belonged to a good group of people who operated their business under the name The Spreading Taint. It was with them that I discovered things I never thought were possible. While the Alliance was busy with Lady Katrana Prestor's lair and King Wrynn brought her head back to Stormwind, we ventured into the Molten Core." The Orc began trailing off again, fondly reminiscing some of the things he had seen.
Once again the Tauren interrupted him, this time to take over. "Friends", he spoke, "what our friend here is saying is that we have had a good life. We were privileged enough to force dragons into hiding, we defeated Old Gods." "An Old God's eyeball!" a hunter shouted, much to the amusement of all present. "Yes, his eyeball" the Tauren chuckled. "But that is not all. We've slain many that opposed the Horde. From the Alliance scum in the Alterac Mountains to the bugs in Silithus and their master. We've stopped trolls from making their kin look bad", this got an appreciative nod from the troll guests, "and we've even ventured to the home of the Orcs. And if all that was not enough, we then ventured to Northrend and walked right into the Lich King's front door." A large triumphant howl erupted from the crowd, their most recent victory still fresh in their minds.
"But the thing is, we are old. We have been defending our allies for 7 years now. 7 long years." he sighed. "And so the time has come for us to thank you, and say farewell."
A gasp went across the crowd.
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Although I've only been getting to know you recently and just started my WoWlife myself, you sure showed me that maturity and the game can, in fact, coexist, and that a crapton of achieves IS possible!