[Dimensional Ripper - Area 52 Binds when used Requires Engineering (350) Requires Goblin Engineer Item Level 65

Use: Rips the dimensional walls asunder and transports you to Area 52 in Netherstorm. There are technical problems that sometimes occur, but that's what Goblin Engineering is all about! (4 Hrs Cooldown) Sell Price: 50]

There are those who theorize that there may be more than one Universe. That there may indeed be multiple duplicates and reflections of every world. Croweye could try to explain, but it is rare to find an Orc that can understand the chemistry of goblin explosives, much less their applications in time/space travel.

On one of those other worlds...

The young elf was never happy in the culture of the Sin'dori. He did not care for pomp or politics. He only wanted green fields to hunt in and so he left the city of Silvermoon minutes after his coming of age. He travelled west. The Foresaken were even less tolerable than his own corrupted people but at least they had a blimp port to Kalimdor. The Orcish nation offtered honor and glory, in the form of conscription into thier armies. He spent some time selling his bow to the Orcs, all the while intending to keep moving towards those greener fields.

In the Barrens the elf first met the Tauren and their tale of thier homeland hastened his AWOL. This leg of his journey was one of the most perilous. Still so young and foolish in an unfamiliar land where the game animals were plentiful and deadly. The last mile past Camp Tarujo made it all worth while when he crested the hills and the greenfields of Mulgor opened to his sight. The young elf had found his first home.

Seasons pass and the elf's chin beard starts to fill in. He prefers to live nomadically, rarely spending a brief moment in one of the Tauren villages to sell hides and to restock his own supplies.

Deep in the forests of Feralas is where the woodland shadows surprised him with a chuckle. "I have watched you. You live like a scavenger bird, and your sight seems as sharp. I will call you Croweye."

And so went the first day of the brothers Crowe.

Years pass and the Crowes explore, hunt and kill. The rest of thier world unites to strike down great evils without them.

(Soooo much more to come, this may take awhile and I wanna log in. So ima gunna reedits n blahblah later.)

The Netherstorm crackles sending purple bolts of energy above Croweye's head and the Goblin beside him punches him in the head again.

"No! No! No! Ya gettin it allwrongs dumbhead! The primas gotta be all pokin out tha sides of da casing or the blast is gunna be too focused!"

"Indeed..." Croweye sneered sidelong at his tutor, who still hadn't figured out it was always his student intent to do the oposite of his teachings.

"Bah! you so dumbhead useless useless! Im outa here! Class over! Gimmie golds! Pay in full!" The engineer flappped out one greedy hand while the sneaky hand went to a button on his belt.

Croweye paused and pointed the flames of his torch towards the door.

"I left your money with my wolf, play nice and he'll pay you time and a half for the lesson."

Gronfang wasn't quite done with the talbuk leg tied to the coin sack, and goblins can be so impatient sometimes. These things happen.

"Ahhh Excelent, a masterpiece!" Croweye backed away a few more steps to futher congratulate himself on his reengineered Dimentional Ripper.

"I should be able to travel to other worlds if my calculations are correct."

Croweye fell out of the machine onto his knees and retched blood and lung tissue onto the floor. Small bits and chunks of him were missing. Several irregular polygonal holes and divits screamed at him but did not bleed.

Croweye ran in terror across trisfal glades and was quickly cut down by the human mage's lances of fire and ice.

Croweye glanced around at the red sands of Durotar and then at his blunt green fingered hands.

Croweye decided he would just settle down in Fairewing square and use his skill to help rebuild Silvermoon.

Croweye tried to shield his face from the Tauren children's sticks and pebbles as they chanted at him. "Hornless! Hornless!" His family did their best to comfort him. "In time they will see."

Croweclaw mopped the sweat from his brother's forehead frowning.

"You'll live to destroy yourself again Brother. The holes on you will not close." Croweclaw frowned deeper trying to to find words. "They are here and they are not here. They are not...wounds."

Croweye's Tauren father knelt down to look his Elven son in the eyes.

"You are a Man. A fine Hunter, I am proud. And you must go."

Croweye peered at his father.

"This is a hard and harsh world and I will not have you grow soft. You will go and you will learn how to survive."

"Very well, From Who then?"

His father smiled and whistled for the family kodo from the gap in his grin.

"The Best."

(getting confused yet? I am. It gets sooo much worse, even I have to shake my head and the convoluted nature of this crap. Anywho as a side note incase anyone might be thinking "Who in the Grin is Croweye's father!?!?!" The answer is Nobody! He is a metaphore for the research I did on Veco. Buuut Croweye(V) was born on Veco shortly after the launch of BC as were I think all these other ones Orc Croweye have been deleted tho but a few still exist. Croweye(I) my main was from Kilrog, blah blah blah stuff n things anywho felt the urge to rp purge but now ima login and clawsomeone.)

"Bring me that Quilboar's Lungs Wartusk! Good Boy!" The young orc called out to his boar as he straffed sideways. An arrow green with snake venom launched from his bow lodging into another of the pigmen.

"Lok'Tar!! Zagga kag mok ogar grotka!!"

The well dressed bloodelf stroked at his chin beard thoughtfully watching the Orc celebrate his victory. A seizure of pain shocked through his neck for a moment and he slapped at it.

"This one." He injected himself with another dose and slid down his rocky perch and began clapping as he approached the orc.

"Well done, well done my friend. A good kill."

"Throm'ka Elf, Is there something I can help you with?"

"Actually yes there is, and there will be a fair reward for you."

The young orc's eyes widened just slighty at the mention of money. "Go on."

The elf whistled for his worg and pulled a large crate down from behind the saddle.

"Well you see, I represent a cartel of Goblins who have developed an amazing new methods of automated barbering. I have a very important demonstration to do in Ratchet just south of here, and well my assistant was, well, eaten on the way here, and..."

The elf talked on while pulling asorted odds and ends from the crate asembling pieces together. It began to take shape quite rapidly. A cushined stool, a strange helmet with a hose on the top connected to a box with lights and switches, a collection jar.

"So I will pay you ten gold pieces but I need to make sure the helmet will fit first. If it doesn't fit I will still give you a gold piece for your time."

The elf smiled as best he could wincing through the pain of the raw cracks on his cheek.

He kept talking explaining how the machine worked. He turned the helmet upside down showing the orc the screen of "steel reinforced with bronze bars between you and mircofine thorium blades so razor thin they would break on everything but hair!"

The strange cracked faced elf said he could do battle in the helmet it was of such fine Goblin construction. But Croweye thought it looked like cheep fake junk.

Although this stranger was very odd his offer of gold to sit in a chair and try on a hat was too good.

"Zug zug. Elf I accept your offer."

Croweye did his best to make the compressor as humane as he could with explosives and electricity. It was a machine comparable to the dimentional ripper he used to get here, so he asumed it was about the same. The young orc felt almost nothing as he was atomized from foot to folicles and sent into the arcane mold contained in the box. Soon the dinggerthingy chimed and the piece landed in the collection jar.

"Of course it is..." Croweye sighed at the green flesh shard suspended in the jar, and began packing it and the rest of the equipment onto Gronfang's back.

<Croweclaw's dream spirit floats in the emerald haze. His his eyes are open and they twitch rappidly about, unfocused but searching. Thinnings in the dream to dreams, to worlds..>

Croweye stands at the base of a hill. His hair in long braids like his Tauren father. Three others stand beside him. Each one more seasoned and powerful than the next.

"Maybe this wasn't such a great idea Humar." The black lion at his heel yawned.

A flash of purple flames erruptes on the hill top, an Orcish warlock steps through the remaing smoke and bellows.

"FEAR THE GRIN!!!!"

Echos seem to come from all side but in different voices.

"Fear the GRin!!" "Fear The Grin!" "Fear Da Grinnah! Mon!"

Shadows parted around the four, weapons ready to slice a throat. Two of the rogues sheathed thier blades and walked to the warlock who had allready begun the ritual. The air between them ripped and the smell of swampwater blew forward. Soon the hill is lined with battle formations and a huge orc wearing a many toothed necklace steps forward.

"FEAR THE GRIN!!!"

The chorus that follows this warcry causes the ground beneath to shake.

Croweclaw's dreamform watched the ceremony as the young elf and the other's were each interrogated. Each was forced to fight one of the tribe's elite members, all of them lost. Lastly they were struck with furniture.

This ritual was repeated every seven days to replenish the dead from the many battles in the six days between.

Months on this world Croweclaw dreams and watches the young elf grow and become accepted by this strange tribe of blood thirsty beasts.

He watches the elf ride through the jungles of Stranglethorn, To a goblin and the rumor...

of a machine.

From the West gate of Stonard Crowêye watched the rest of the Grinclan drink, fight, and tear chunks of charred meat off the Kodo he once rode. Finally he had become strong enough to ride one of the Grin's Black Warwargs. He had chosen one of the largest ones its shoulders towering above the tips of his pointed ears.

"Strong enough to make the ride I'm sure." He muttered to his new mount.

"No ya not, Ya crazy Grot. I know watcha planin'." Crowêye jumpped at the sound of Sythgar Thagajin's voice.

"Tink ya be sneakin off dontcha? Tink ya can? An da Grin don't know?" Thag cackled and pointed at the still soft elf half his flimsy gear still scraps of hide.

"Sorry, Sythgar." Crowêye looked at his feet. "Should I go to my Grothole?"

"No Mon, You Go! Maybe you die, dat what I tink will happen. You tink you can get past da Knight's watch in Darkshire? Dey gots eyes all ova dat forest. Maybe you die, mabye not? Maybe you live and become some ting? GO!" Thag kicks the Grot towards his massive wolf. "Bettah not fall of ya wolf even dat would kill ya." Thag laughs at Croweye one last time before heading back into camp.

"Goiden Uden Lo!" The Darkshire guards yelled at the top of thier lungs and chased after Crowêye's massive warg. The young elf clutched at his mount, lying prone across it's back trying to bury himself in the fur and avoid the arrows. He clutched at the beast with everything he had feet, knees, thighs, elbows, fists and teeth.

"Faster! Faster! he pleaded with his wolf and it did not argue.

The Guards on foot could not keep up and fell back but one lifted a horn to it's lips and let peel a trumpet call of alert.

Crowêye could smell the humans up ahead thier stink switched from boredom to excitement. He eased his grips and the wolf eased its stride and slowed to a lope as he approached the cross roads and the bloackade of guards that now line the road.

"Grotka..." He muttered the orcish curse and looked to the sides of the road. North of the road, haunted woods, spiders and beyond that the river and the Human capital territory swarming with Aliance. To the South the wild jungle of Stranglethorn where Horde and Aliance fought with each other and the dangeous land to survive each day. He could find death in either direction easy enough without it waiting for him just a few paces ahead.

Some of the guards began to laugh and point at him, one of them waved a dismissive hand towards him as he slapped a fellow guard on the shoulder and went back to the campfire. Two others knelt down drawing a small circle in the dirt of the road and each placed put a gold coin in the circle. They spat in thier hands and shook on the bet.

The Captain of the camp stepped forward and impaled his massive sword into the center of the road. He removed his chest plate and hung it from the cross piece, then his helmet and crowned the pommel. Crowêye frowned at the "scarecrow" The human had made both deeply offended and ashamed that it was working.

The guard leaning against the far fencepost began stuffing herbs from a pouch into a small ornately carved pipe and barely felt the claws tear through his spine as he struck the matchstick to light it.

The Captain made a beckoning gesture at Crowêye taunting him. Then looking very confused at Crowêye's wide grin as the bet behind him was lost by the two men. And won by a large horned lion.

The lion grinned at the surprised and compromised captain raking across the backs of his knees sending the soldier hamstrung to the ground. The lion looked up at the young elf and winked before it dashed into the camp to finish the last guard and start his own dinner at the campfire.

Crowêye nodded to his guardian spirit and knocked an arrow in his bow and then three into the captain's throat, heart, eye.

His fourth arrow was not a miss at all, he intended to hit the Stormwind emblem on the sword's hilt. The blade did not break but it vibrated just so that the chestplate rattled off and slid down the blade into the dirt. The helmet jumped off the pommel rolling into the bloodied drainage ditch.

Normally Scooty wouldn't speak with Oglethorpe on any topic, not the smell of the fish, not the occasional pirate attack, and certainly never ever an engineering schematic. Yet here they were shoulder to shoulder looking at Crowêye's crude but coherent desgin scrawled onto a dried Kodo hide.

"Ya say you ain't gots no engineering experience at alls?" Scooty looked up at the elf down at the schematic and then over to Oglethorpe. "He don't even know what n arclite spanner does!"

"Sometimes I have umm "dreams" even when I am awake and I can see my hands doning these things...I "woke" with this in my hands." Crowêye shrugged at the enigineers.

"This is preposterous! Reengineering the Port-ama-jig to transpond back into itself while infusing the Partizakles with hair and blood from the Tauren. Madness!...Let do it!" The Gnome leaped up from the table and began hauling strange tools and random machine parts from a chest.

Crowe understood the wishes of the young elf hunter. His "father" had a simular heart. However the initial accident somehow caused this one to actually be born among the Tauren. Perhaps this experiment will bring somekind of balance to this world. Crowe agreed to help.

The Dimentional Ripper exit port-a-pod began to shudder and the nitroglisix injectors began to prepfor incoming implosion.

Zap Farflinger looked up from the snowball he had been packing ingtending to fill Umi's flappy green ear with slush.

Croweye stepped casually out of the machine and into Everlook. He winced at the flash of pain that flared in his chest and pulled out his shirt enough to look down it. The void hole in his chest was practically screaming at him. "HERE! HERE! HERE!"

"The last piece..." Croweye the traveling salesman looked around.

"Can I interest anyone in an automatic-haircutting demonstration?"

Chief Engineer Scooty had his arm across Master Gadgeteer Oglethorpe's shoulders. The gnome was lighting up a celebratory cigar. They both gazed at their creation like proud fathers.

"She's a real beauty. The Chromium trim is a nice touch."

Oglethorpe nodded and puffed.

"And the flame accents on the Splodetronic injectors really do give it that something extra."

They beamed.

The young bloodelf Crowêye sat cross legged on a workbench tugging at one of his braids. This crazy machine from his dreams would either transform him or turn him into a greasy smear on the floor, walls and ceiling.

WIPWIPWIPWIPWIPWIPWIPITBC...