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Thu, Jan. 1st, 2009, 12:30 pm
The Hazards of Pansey Steelspire

This livejournal is a series of stories about a fictional character in the World of Warcraft MMORPG. The stories here are a mix of storytelling on behalf of the author from pure imagination, and of roleplay that takes place on the Shadow Council Server. The World of Warcraft setting is a trademark of Blizzard Entertainment and as Pansey's author and player, I hold no copyright them. The character of Pansey, his interactions, and behavior are of my, and my roleplay buddies own design. This journal is purely for self-gratification and entertainment's sake.

I do not profess to be a good writer. My skills lie mainly in the visuals department. Please visit neondragon for art and content not related to my roleplay in World of Warcraft. This character journal is rated PG-13 for moderate language and violence.

Pansey Steelspire

Sat, Jan. 20th, 2007, 07:04 pm
Hazard 3: Finding a Job

Seven weeks to somehow earn enough money to cover seven months of back rent. The debts I accumulated had totaled over 900 gold. Half the city was a wasteland thanks to the scourge, and my trading card shop with it. I once did a booming business in fantasy cardgames, where anyone could be a hero- for the right price. All that was lost now.

I carefully slipped on my gloves, making sure each finger was snuggly in place before unlocking, relocking, reentering, double checking the bolts, then relocking my apartment. One could never be too careful. Time to head on down and talk with the man holding the giant, double bladed sword- er... sword-staff ...ah- the pointy thing.

"I-I hear you give out jobs to-to citizens of Silverm-moon."

He seemed reasonable enough.

The guardsman looked away from the area of space he was blankly staring at and smiled cheerfully. "You heard right citizen!"

"Well ah- I could use one. I-I mean, an easy one. Give me er- the most basic job you have, s-s-omething you'd give to s-someone completely new to ah- helping out here city."

The guardsman seemed thoughtful for a moment and consulted with his partner across from him. They were talking for what I deemed an utterly unacceptable period of time, but beggars couldn't be choosers, so patiently I waited. Did I remember to lock my apartment? Finally, the cheerful red guardsman returned and informed me that the easiest, most basic job they had available involved the "perfectly harmless" mana wurms found all along the edges of the city. All I had to do was coax some arcane silver from them.

So cute, I might almost consider going to outland and spending too much money on one for a pet.

They're actually, kinda cute. I'd never want one as a pet of course. Who knows what sorts of germs they might carry. Still, they were lovely to watch and good tempered. "Hey there, little guy-"


Hey there little - Oh god!

Oh gods-

I'm not made for this kind of abuse!

The man clearly did not realize what sort of peril he had inadvertently put me in!

I returned back to Silvermoon square with only one of the six shards of arcane silver in tow, and a terrible, festering, gaping wound on my arm. I shoved the shard of silver under the guardsman's nose and glared up at him. The fellow smiled cheerfully. "That's one. We'll need 5 more please and you'll have your reward."

5 more chances to die? No thanks. "I can't do that. Look, just give me 1/6 of the reward money."

The big fellow's face broke into that annoyingly cheerful smile once more. "Actually, we give adventurers this really keen cloak for completing this task."

"Look! Just look what tho- those monsters did to me!"

He blinked a few times and looked me up and down. "I don't see a problem."

The man was blind!

I shoved my arm in front of his face and sighed. "Look, here. -does it look infected to you? It looks awfully infected to me. I mean, the germs it could have b-been carrying- who knows where it's b-been!"

"Hmmm?" He peered closer. "That's just a little scratch, no cause for concern-"

"ICOULDHAVEDIED!!!!!!" I snatched my arm back and tugged the sleeve back down, covering my wound so I would not have to review the terrors inflicted on my person. "Look here, I-I need another job. One that pays money." Mana wurms. Ha! He'd just as well have sent me into the maw of a springpaw lynx. This next job would be better-

Say what?

No, he did not just-

I cleared my throat and carefully looked at the ground. "Don't you have any j-jobs that don't involve slaying and/or interacting with deadly monsters?"

The guardsman smiled cheerfully. "Nope! No, that's pretty much all we do!"



Thu, Jan. 18th, 2007, 10:20 am
Hazard 2: The Agreement

My landlady and I came to an agreement.

She'd let me keep my #$&*ing $%#&, if I got her one month's worth of backrent every week for the next 7 weeks. I always knew she loved me. Deep down. Inside, among the squishy stuff. I knew the second I laid my eyes on that lithe, seductive form that she was a tender, wonderful, fragile little butterfl-

The Fragile Butterfly

"-You're not getting any closer to having my money like that."

She was even beautiful when she was angry. Especially when she was angry. Like a lovely rose that I could brush against my cheek, if only I could avoid those thor-

"I lov-"


Tue, Jan. 16th, 2007, 08:58 am
Hazard 1: Overdue Rent

(( A quick note about this entry. A lot of the jokes I make relate to game mechanics. I'll try and make notations of these for those that aren't familiar. In this particular entry, Legolas is mentioned. It is not a fanfic of Lord of the Rings Legolas. Pansey has a friend who is one of the many hundreds of Legolas misspellings that populate the world of warcraft roleplay servers. Legolas will often "lol" and use internet shorthand, causing some confusion for Pansey, who thinks Legolas a bit "special". ))



Go away

I buried my head further underneath the warmth and security of my blankets. If I waited long enough, she'd just go away.

"Pansey!" the voice went up an octive, and someone began pounding on the thick door of the room. Such energy so early in the day! I almost envied her gusto, but not nearly enough to actually move. If only she applied her energy elsewhere; like the apartments further down the hall...

The blankets were welcoming, and I sank further into them, no part of me visible to the open air. It's safe in here, and I am invisible. I'm not here. No one is home. Go away.

After several minutes, the banging on the door became slower, all the heart gone out of it until a final resounding thunk against the surface could be heard. Some colorful cursing followed. That wasn't very ladylike, now was it? I'd always known the landlady was common as dirt. I lifted the blankets from my head and peered around cautiously, my eyes slow to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the window. Was it noon allready? -


The woman has to have harpy somewhere in her bloodline. Those pipes! Perhaps a great aunt-


No, it probably wasn't that distant. If I were being realistic it was far more probable the harpy was her mother; What a screech!

Some more cursing.

The colorful muttering continued and muffled scratching noises could be heard on the other side of the door.

She is creative though. I'll give her that much. I didn't know that @#$% could be used as a noun, verb, adverb, adjective, and modifer. A shame such a treasure should be confined to a small rental house such as this. Why, she could be out in the world, using that voice and creativity to oh, I dunno, drill the Silvermoon soldiers through their first week of boot camp? Or maybe she'd be more cut out for gathering sensitive information from the ene-

"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE YOU %$&#! $#%* FREELOADER! WHEN YOU COME OUT- AND YOU WILL HAVE TO COME OUT SOMEDAY - I WILL PERSONALLY RIP OFF YOUR #$&*ing $%#&! GIVE ME MY @#&$ MONEY!!!" A piece of paper was shoved underneath the door and angry footsteps retreated from the area.

Yes yes. With that voice and charming demeanor, she was definately cut out for the torture business. I was sure she could extract any item or piece of information from a fellow if given enough time... but would she be able to get money out of me? Ho ho, I think not, for I am the amazing, devilishly charming, Sir Dar-

"-Pansey, it's me, Legolas. Open up."

I shrugged away the last of the covers and fumbled for my gloves, pulling the soft leather over my hands. The gesture was soothing. "Is the cra- crazy bitch gone?!"

"The coast is clear man."

I stood up and stretched, cramped from huddling under the covers in a tight ball for such an extended period of time. The letter on the floor was a hasty thing, scrawled in large, uneven type.


Pansey Steelspire,

Pay up you bastard.

Your Landlord

"Pansey, dude! Open up man!"

I looked up at the locked door and sighed. Legolas wasn't the most patient of people, nor the most original, but I wasn't in the position to be too picky. Light knows how an upstanding fella such as myself had managed to aquire so many enemies so quickly. Friends were in short supply, and a commodity to be cherished. "C-coming, I- I'm coming!" I sighed "...moron..."

Each of the seven locks on my door clicked open exactly 1.5 seconds from the opening of the last. The repitition a further balm to what was a stressful morning. As I undid the last lock and reached for the handle, the door burst open, revealing Legolas... and that crazy bitch landlord. As I stared up at the pair from the flat on my back, I couldn't help but marvel at what amazing legs she had. So amazing, they'd been able to kick open my door, but the shape of them. Sublime. They went on forever and ever...

Legolas made some sort of strange "lawl" noise. He did that from time to time. I never understood it. "Sorry man."

As the psychotic harpy woman planted her boot firmly in the middle of my chest, I was granted an even better view of those legs made of heaven. It would have been pleasent, were it not for the popping noises I was hearing coming from my ribcage-

"I want my money."

"And- and y-you shall have it!" I assured her, putting on my most charming smile, which may have fallen a bit short what with all the twitching. I never did well under pressure. Still, the effort was there. The boot twisted. I probably didn't notice at first because I was too busy staring up at those surreal thighs, but those boots had some fairly impressive heals on them. They were busy digging their large and impressive way into my innards. Goblin craftsmanship perhaps?

"I. Want. My. Money."

I gulped. She was gonna do it. She was gonna rip off my #$&*ing $%#&. Whatever that was.

I knew then and there that I loved her.