By piecing together the quest pages dropped from engineering mobs for [The Snows of Northrend], the following story came to light of two choppers forced into separation by the fateful needs of a show…
<The remaining fragments are written in invisible ink on Light Parchment. They require a secret gnomish decoder to read.>
Preamble – Page 1
Two choppers, both alike in dignity,
In fair Azeroth, where we lay our scene,
From pre-Cataclysm break to Pandaria mutiny,
Where faction feuds makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal biceps of these two empires
A pair of star-cross’d bikes take their life;
Whose misadventured show overthrows
Do with their separation bury their parents’ strife.
The fearful passage of their drama-fueled love,
And the continuance of their leaders’ rage,
Which, but their item’s end, nought could remove,
Is now the twitter status of our stage;
The which if you with patient wallets attend,
What TV shall miss, our blog shall strive to mend.
Chapter I – Page 9
O, her metalwork teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems her gears hang upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in a Warrior’s spear,
Beauty too rich for use, for Azeroth too dear!
So shows a raider trooping with LFR crows,
As yonder lady o’er her fellow mounts shows.
The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand,
And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.
This, by his voice, should be a rival bike.
Fetch me my editing team, boy. What dares the peon
Come hither, cover’d with an friendly face,
To offer reason and peace to our hostility?
Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin.
Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore troll you so?
My lord, this is our foe,
A villain that is hither come in spite,
To deflate our show ratings this night.
Ah, the Horde bike, is it?
‘Tis he, that tusked villain.
Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone;
He bears him like a store-bought mount;
And, to say truth, Azeroth brags of him
To be a distinctive and well-constructed mount:
I would not for the wealth of all the players
Here in my show do him disparagement:
Therefore be patient, take no note of him:
It is my will, the which if thou respect,
Show a fair voting presence and put off these frowns,
And ill-beseeming posts lest you risk a forum ban.
Chapter II – Page 3
‘Tis but thy faction that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Horde.
What’s Horde? it is not armor, nor weapon,
Nor title, nor achievement, nor any other part
Belonging to a player. O, be some other name!
What’s in a name? that which we call a sword
By any other name would hit as hard;
So a Horde bike would, were he not flagged,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that detail. Bike, unflag for PvP,
And for that faction which is no part of thee
Take all myself.
Chapter III – Page 13
DRAMA-FREE NEUTRAL BIKE:
I am hurt.
A resurrection sickness o’ both your factions! I am sped.
Am I cut, and hath no show time?
Ay, ay, a scratch, a punctured tire; marry, ’tis enough.
Where is my team? Go, villain, fetch a mechanic.
No, ’tis not so rushed as a deadline squabble, nor so grievous
As a rejected design; but ’tis enough, ’twill serve: ask for
me to-morrow, and you shall find me an ignored bike.
My pitch lacked enough drama, I warrant, for this show. A sickness o’
both your factions! Why the devil did you sabotage my design? I
was cut on the editing room floor, under your direction.
Help me into some blog post,
Or I shall rust. A sicknesses o’ both your factions!
They have cut me from the database: I have it,
And soundly too: your factions!
Chapter III – Page 15
And for that offence
Immediately we do separate them hence:
I have an interest in your faction’s proceeding,
The Horde shall rise up while Garrosh lie a-bleeding;
I’ll amerce the Alliance with so strong a fine
That you shall all repent the loss of mine:
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
Nor gold nor votes shall purchase out abuses:
Therefore use none: let the Alliance bike fade,
And cast out the entry from the mount journal.
Bear hence this statement and console thee:
While the Horde bike shall be pardoned, and go for FREE.
Chapter IV – Page 6
Let me be voted on, let me be given for FREE;
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
I’ll say yon datapush is not the Warlords prepatch,
‘Tis but an errant hotfix fixing Garrisons yet again;
Come, drama, and welcome! You will it so.
How is’t, my soul? let’s talk; it is not the published blog.
It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, stop reading the comments!
It is the drama that splutters my gears so,
Straining unbelievable arguments and unpleasing plot twists.
Some say the drama makes sweet amusement;
This doth not so, for she divideth us.
Chapter V – Page 23
This blog doth make good the community’s words,
Their course of love, the tidings of her defeat:
And here he writes that he did manufacture the drama,
Rouse the restless players, and therewithal
Came to this vault in shame, and lie with his sister bike.
Where be these enemies? Garrosh! Varian!
See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
That the Light finds means to kill your joys with love.
And I for not intervening in Orgrimmar sooner,
Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish’d.
O brother Garrosh, give me thy hand:
This is my bike’s jointure, for no more
Can I demand.
But I can give thee more:
For I will sell her bike for pure gold;
That while the Alliance by that name is known,
There shall no figure at such rate be liked
As that of the gold and silver faction bike.
As rich shall the Horde bike by his lady’s lie;
A free sacrifice of faction pride!
A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be puzzled, and some punished:
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of faction choppers and their show.