The Adventures of Bofain, son of Farar

Denne fortælling blev til i 2010, da jeg deltog i Blizzard's fan fiction contest. Et af kravene var, at historien skulle finde sted i et Blizzard-miljø, altså Diablo, Warcraft eller Starcraft. Jeg valgte Warcraft med udgangspunkt i den forestående udvidelse til World of Warcraft hvor der blev introduceret nye race/class-kombinationer. Hovedpersonen er derfor min fortolkning af hvordan dværge nu kunne blive shamaner.

This tale was created in 2010 when I participated in the Blizzard fan fiction contest. One of the regulations were that the story had to take place in a Blizzard inspired environment - Diablo, Warcraft or Starcraft. I chose Warcraft, inspired by the upcoming expansion for World of Warcraft where new race/class combinations were introduced. Consequently the main character is my interpretation of how dwarves can now become shamans.


3. Parting in Kharanos


Kharanos had been Farar’s home ever since he was born. The town had always been known for housing and training great military minds and acting as a buffer between the wilds of Dun Morogh and Ironforge. As Farar and Samson came walking down the road, they both stuck their noses in the air and inhaled.

“Aaahhh” Farar exhaled. “D’you smell that ol’ boy? That’s the smell of Gremlock’s homemade cherry pie. How about we pick up a couple for Bofain and Olric?”

Samson grunted and nudged his head against Farar in agreement.

As they made it home the fire was crackling and Farar’s face quickly blushed from the heat.

“Boys!” he yelled. “Come in here for a moment”

Bofain and Olric appeared in the doorway. “’Sup dad?” Bofain asked.

“Oi, cherry pie!” Olric said enthusiastically.

“I’m going on a mission with Thri to Northrend” Farar said as he looked to the young dwarves.

Even though he was away from home for long periods of time, whether he was hunting or guarding the gates of Ironforge, he was always with his sons at heart. He also knew that if something happened, Grif had an eye on his boys and would send for him if anything happened. But this was different. This time he would be going all the way to Northrend – a much longer journey than he had ever taken since becoming a father.

Bofain could see the pain in his eyes, but instantly eyed an opportunity to prove to his father, that he was fast becoming a man, ready to take responsibility.

“Listen dad, you don’t have to worry about us. Olric and I have been training for years and we can take care of ourselves.

“I know, son,” Farar said with a warm smile. “I’ve always been proud of you boys and I know you’ll stay out of trouble. Otherwise you know Grif will tell me about any mischief you’re involved with while I’m gone!”

They all laughed and Farar became easier at heart while they shared what was left of the pies after Olric had started with them. Farar made his preparations and packed his rifle and provisions.

“Before I go, I want you to have this.” he told Bofain and handed him an object packed in a piece of linen cloth. “It belonged to your mother.”

Bofain pulled it out of the cloth and gazed upon the most beautiful piece of stone he had ever seen. It was smooth on the surface, but almost looked transparent with a deep blue core. When he held it against the sunlight, it reflected as though there was a small flame in the center of the blue core.

“It’s magnificent,” he gasped, but as he looked up, Farar had already gone.

He had never been fond of goodbyes, so instead of spending a lot of time saying goodbye, he would go right away and come home sooner. Bofain and Olric looked at each other, exchanged a smile and began with their chores. Tonight, they would go to the tavern and have fun.

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