Here I begin this harrowing yet quite relaxed tale a small Cuddly Gnome with a Passion for the Dark Arts - and Dark Art. It begins 37 levels into the little guys quest in the worlds Azeroth, galavanting around the Arathi Highlands killing painfully annoying merlocs on the seaside to bands of merry Thiefs and Footpads up in th e mountains. The constant Horde threat racing through South Shore destroying everyone within the town is nothing but a complete pain in the small hairy but. Why do they always kill the Griffin master !!! Just wait, you stinkin' horde just wait he constantly yells at the wind - the screams fall dead on the intended targets ears. He's off to Stormwind now to do business at the bank and auction House and get rid of the copious amounts of useless crap that fill his bags - why does anyone pick up scales and ripped fur and spider legs etc?!?!?! For now he rests easy in his home away from underground home until faced with another quest holding his life and the very...
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