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tifonbellanariablog · 6 years ago

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Those dark decisions

DISCLAIMER: I do not own “Zappyboy”, nor the world and characters of Azeroth, this is just a random thing that came to my mind, I proofread it in case anything was poorly written.

Hello, peeps. For those of you who don’t know, I’m a fan of World of Warcraft. I know Nyatzhanvan may be “Blizzard morally grey” as Sylvanas, but, despite they being nearly the same age, with Nya relying a lot more on the fell-corrupted magic, she has those weird green eyes. Don’t worry, Kharayna will be fine. Of course she will. Do you think “cinnamon bun” here would abduct her? No! I don’t think Nyatzhanvan would remember that either. Despite being a bleep, she’s a forgetful old b...and tends not to remember things. Azeroth needs more comedy.

« The young bird is always caught by the chill of the dawn. » A female voice spoke in Orcish.

It was the password for the meeting with his superior officer, Nyatzhanvan. His ears flicked towards the sound, flattening against his head. Zekhan swallowed after he walked towards the voice. He had received the mission three days before, with two coins of Gold and a pouch of sixty Silver. He instinctively knew it was from one of the Horde’s trusted warriors. However, when he had seen her name – he dare not think of it – he shuddered in awe. She was a Blood-Elf mercenary and a rather good at that. The proof was that she had survived the Pandaren Isles Invasion and battles against the Zandalar Prophet Zul. Apart from cleansing the Scourge resurgent armies in Northrend that was the only accomplishment he had heard about her.

The voice was chilling and sweet at the same time. Those fel-burning eyes glared at the hooded Troll with such finality he swore he could see why the majority of the Blood Elves felt a chill when she walked by. From the lithe and silent stride, he could have sworn he was meeting Lady Sylvanas herself. Although she barely reached his chest, she was intimidating. But no, the green-coloured eyes, the long blond eyebrows were those of a living Sindorei. She reeked of a clean, sickly sweet scent. Whilst her tabard of the Silvermoon dragonhawk was ragged, the mantle and the dark blue hood were not.

Handing to him a bag, she barely moved a muscle before turning towards the northwest.

« Take this. I want her numbed, not dead. » She spoke in a fluent Orcish, the crystalline intonation of the murmuring voice doing nothing to calm him.

« Why would the Warchief want me to---» The boyish Troll glanced hopelessly at the female elf.

« She’s no Tyrande Whisperwind, I am very aware of that. I wouldn’t question “her”! If my sources are correct, the girl is the daughter of an ancient blacksmith and now revered champion of the Alliance. The Warchief needs her, and we shall take Kharayna to her. »

« Why would we do that? »

She laughed bitterly, her eyes reflecting the dimness of her lantern.

« I’m afraid I am not that welcome within Booty Bay. Let’s just say I have a terrible temper. »

A small, graceful movement told him she was shrugging.

« Besides, weren’t you the boy who wanted to see the world? In my time, I saw the world, I travelled to all manner of places. Working for all types and races has its advantages. »

« This ain’t what I had in mind… This is…awful, cowardly! »

Zekhan meant it. His father had always taught him never to give reason to the Alliance soldiers who thought all Trolls were conniving, deceiving savages. Yet, there was one woman who had been rumoured to be cruel and yet, efficient…Telling him it did not matter. It did not matter whether his visions on the world were true or false.

At this, the rogue merely sighed, cleaning with a crystalline liquid her blade.

« It never is. I shall give you thrice the amount of money you received in Durotar---»

« Ya may keep your shitty gold! »

At this sudden snarl from Zekhan, the Blood-Elf narrowed her eyes. Nevertheless, her voice remained calm. A blade was revealed, the edge sharp and enough to slice the youthful shaman’s throat. Hovering the blade only a few inches from her own neck, the rogue snorted.

« You know, Lady Sylvanas knows me personally. I wonder what will happen when I tell her the boorish and treacherous way you spoke to me. I wonder how your mother will feel… »

Pearls of sweat streamed from Zekhan’s chin. His brown eyes widened in worry, a small frown of worry crossing his features. He knew his mother would cry, she always cried, even when he went as far to train with the Shaman master, only one mile from their hut.

« Forgive me! » He croaked, the voice clearly alarmed at the threat.

A moment passed, the knife only vaguely distinct between her lantern and the emerald green in her eyes.

« All right, sweetie. You are so young… There’s no reason for me to execute you. That is, if you manage to capture that little Keldorei. There’s no mistaking it, she has amber eyes, dark greenish hair combed neatly to her side and a few marks marking her as a druid---»

« She’s a druid in training?! » Zekhan gawked, fists balled.

Thrall had often assured many shamans and druids no druid walking in neutral territory would be harmed by the Horde. Vol’jin repeated that. The smell of burning hearths flowing from the dark tunnel entrance tasted bitter in the Troll’s nose. He shuddered. These were dark times indeed.

A long silence followed. He did not fear the Forsaken as whole. He was certain his father would have told him not to fear the “undead”. As Zekhan was about to say how he could place the Night-Elf in the bag, he glanced backwards…Only to see the Blood-Elf had disappeared.

#myoc #Nyatzhanvan #whatareyoudoingyou #IhavenoideawhyIwrotethis #randomwritingthatcametome #canontroll #canoncharacter #zappyboy #zekhan #notromance #warcraft #worldofwarcraft #bootybay

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myjhonjackyus-blog · 7 years ago

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Tips To Making a Guaranteed Sure Bet Profit

Emotion neutralises discipline and racing genius review long proven successful practices. The result of any isolated race has little or no relation to races just before that or just afterhat. Races should be viewed in isolation from each other. We are all emotional in betting but the players at the top of the tree have this down to a fine art and canontrol those emotions. Other punters have long since been conditioned by bookmakers to EXPECT to lose rather than win. They have an in built psychological factor that makes them feel like losers and they have been conditioned to losing by years of doing so. Over 95% of punters are flawed emotionally. Examples of emotive gambling include punters following a horse,trainer or a jockey blind. The "Hype" horses are cannon fodder for emotional punters. They may also follow tipsters blind as they "hate" the thought of missing out on a winner. They pay no attention to the changing conditions of a race that may follow non runners or the ground changing. They misunderstand confidence and can't cope with a lack of confidence.

Emotion also prevents people from advanced betting subjects such laying, hedging and arbitrages. Emotion forces some punters to bet horses with certain names that remind them of loved ones. Names such as "Long Tall Sally " and "Susan's Pride " attract many to them just for a name that's relevant to them. Most punters have a grudge against their own money and winning and being successful is alien to them. Emotional punters lose their heads in barren times and fail to capitalise on winning runs. They mess about with systems and staking plans that make no sense.The more emotion you can rule out of your betting, the more successful you will become. You have to view everyone in the game as your enemy and as people trying to take your hard earned money away from you in the same way as you would a pickpocket. Once you can master your emotions you have made the first big step to betting profitably.

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