The Aporkalypse

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The Aporkalypse

#1 Post by Anadelonbrin » Fri Feb 12, 2021 2:42 pm

The druid sat on her crate next to the bed. The scented candle Dmitry had brought filled the dark room with a pleasant aroma. The saline drip had just been replaced and the Deepstone Oil seemed not to have caused any dangerous side effects. Not yet, at any rate. She had everything she needed for a tracheotomy, just in case. She was a druid, not a surgeon, and the prospect of potentially having to make a hole in someone’s throat that was not meant to kill them was not the outcome she was hoping for. Still, she would do what had to be done, and if she failed miserably, she did have her magic to fall back on. Even if it could not get rid of the poison, it could certainly patch a hole up. If she could patch herself up from being so full of holes, she may as well have been a walking sieve, a punctured throat was no biggie.

She picked up the notebook from the bedside table and noted down the replacement of the drip bag. The night seemed quiet so far, and the pandaren was fast asleep. Her breathing had been raspy for a while, but at the moment, it was smooth and unnaturally slow due to the effects if the oil. The druid let a pale green tendril of her magic wisp and weave its way over Shienlao’s ragged form to assess her state. No change. So far, so good.

She got up and stretched, the branches of her robes creaking softly. Remembering to keep herself hydrated as well as her patient, she went downstairs to get a glass of water. As she put the pitcher down, the surface of the water rippled. And then she felt it. Was it an earthquake? It seemed unreasonable, but the ground was trembling. Her ears twitched at a strange sound coming from outside, like a demonic choir of high-pitched screams, faint at first, but growing ever stronger. As the sound was amplified, so was the tremour of the floor.

Alarmed, the druid opened the door and slipped outside, ready to defend Shienlao to the last drop of blood. On the other side of the door, the pale moonlight glistened over an enormous mass of moving bodies, approaching up the road. The writhing swarm sang its blood curdling song as it crept ever closer.

“Oi, druid, you with them Starlight lot?”

Ana blinked. Her Kaldorei eyes were no strangers to darkness, but it was still hard to make out where the voice came from. Somewhere in the back of the swarm, a hand was raised. It waved.

“Over ‘ere! Blimmin’ late to be making such a delivery, but the gnome insisted. We’ve picked up just about every last oinker from Redridge to Westfall. The… uh… let bit of piglet might be a bit relative in some of the cases, but we got the numbers right. Where’s the pen?”

Ana blinked again, dumbfounded. There were small pigs, big pigs, spotted pigs, hairy swine, tuskers, porkers, piglets, sows, hogs, boars and grunters. She even spotted the odd warthog here and there.

“Six dozen, just like we agreed,” the swineherd continued. Meanwhile, some of his helpers chased after a group of striped little piglets that were trying to make a run for it.

“Ah, yes, of courrse… This way.” The druid tried to appear more confident than she was as she showed the way to the barn. Hopefully, the two ladies who had been in there earlier had not decided to spend the night after their little rendezvous.

The barn filled up. The pen outside filled up. The enclosure was way too small for this amount of animals. The swineherd and his companions had no interest in building fences and left as quickly as they could. So the druid was left to deal with it herself. Fortunately, she was never a stranger to hard work. What she lacked in building skills and proper materials, she made up for with growth magic. The rest of the night was spent going back and forth between the pandaren and the pigs, making sure the patient was as comfortable as possible and setting up pens to separate the pigs enough that they wouldn’t hurt or kill each other, keeping the most vulnerable safe.

By dawn, she was half deaf from all the squealing, smelly and dirty and absolutely exhausted. The prowlers around the logging camp had secured several tasty meals from escaped piglets and the whole area probably had a slightly different fauna set up.

But hey, they had as many pigs to experiment on as anyone could ever desire.

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