I need to communicate well enough to be able to order the Horde to turn and run while they can.
![Twisted Evil :twisted:](./images/smilies/twisted.gif)
Clearly, funny quote technology improved quite a bit between Warcraft II and Warcraft III.GameFAQs wrote:================================================
Dwarvin Demolition Squad: (In Scottish accent) =
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When Made)
a) Dwarves Ready!
When Clicked on)
a) Ahh
b) I love blowing things up
c) Bombs are great
d) Tilt one back with me dog
e) What do you want?
When Moving)
a) Alright
b) Ok
c) Aye lad'y
d) Loat!
e) Yes sir!
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Kurdan and Sky'ree: =
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When Clicked on)
a) Aye?
b) What?
c) I'll fling a hammer at you
d) You got a belly full of haggis
e) Arck.. there's no hope for this lad
f) Yes lad?
When Moving)
a) Yes.. Sir
b) Ack... ok...
c) All right
This one could have been written for World of Warcraft:Robert Burns wrote:John Barleycorn
There were three kings into the east,
Three kings both great and high,
An' they hae sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn should die.
They took a plough and ploughed him down,
Put clods upon his head;
An' they hae sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn was dead.
But the cheerfu' spring came kindly on,
And show'rs began to fall;
John Barleycorn got up again,
And sore surprised them all.
The sultry suns of summer came,
And he grew thick and strong;
His head weel armed wi' pointed spears,
That no one should him wrong.
The sober autumn entered mild,
When he grew wan and pale;
His bending joints and drooping head
Showed he began to fail.
His colour sickened more and more,
He faded into age;
And then his enemies began
To show their deadly rage.
They've ta'en a weapon long and sharp,
And cut him by the knee;
Then tied him fast upon a cart,
Like a rogue for forgerie.
They laid him down upon his back,
And cudgelled him full sore;
They hung him up before the storm,
And turned him o'er and o'er.
They filled up a darksome pit
With water to the brim;
They heaved in John Barleycorn,
There let him sink or swim.
They laid him out upon the floor,
To work him farther woe,
And still, as signs of life appeared,
They tossed him to and fro.
They wasted, o'er a scorching flame,
The marrow of his bones;
But a miller used him worst of all,
For he crushed him 'tween two stones.
And they hae ta'en his very heart's blood,
And drank it round and round;
And still the more and more they drank,
Their joy did more abound.
John Barleycorn was a hero bold,
Of noble enterprise;
For if you do but taste his blood,
'Twill make your courage rise;
'Twill make a man forget his woe;
'Twill heighten all his joy:
'Twill make the widow's heart to sing,
Tho' the tear were in her eye.
Then let us toast John Barleycorn,
Each man a glass in hand;
And may his great posterity
Ne'er fail in old Scotland!
Robert Burns wrote:My Heart's in the Highlands
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods;
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
Dwarven male /v flirt wrote:You look pretty. I like your hair. Here's a drink. Are you ready now?
And here's the narration for gnomes as well:The stoic dwarves of Ironforge spent countless generations mining treasures from deep within the earth. Hidden within their impregnable stronghold of Ironforge Mountain, they rarely ventured beyond the wintry peaks of Dun Morogh.
Recently however, the dwarves unearthed a series of ruins that held secrets to their ancient heritage. Driven to discover the truth about his people's fabled origins, the great king, Magni Bronzebeard, ordered that the dwarves shift their industry from mining to archaeology.
As part of the grand Alliance, the stalwart dwarven armies have been called away to battle the merciless Horde in far away lands. In these perilous times, the defense of the mountain kingdom falls to brave dwarves like you. The spirits of the ancient kings watch over you, and the very mountains are your strength. The future of your people is in your hands.
The eccentric, often brilliant, gnomes, are held as one the most peculiar races of the world. With their obsession for developing radical new technologies and constructing marvels of mindbending engineering, it's a wonder that any gnomes have survived to proliferate.
Over the years, the gnomes have contributed ingenious weapons to aid the grand Alliance in its fierce battle against the Horde. Thriving within the wondrous techo-city of Gnomeregan, the gnomes shared the resources of the forested Dun Morogh peaks with their dwarven cousins.
Yet recently, a barbaric menace rose up from the bowels of the earth and invaded Gnomeregan. Aided by their dwarven allies, the gnomes fought a valiant battle to save their beloved city. Nevertheless, Gnomeregan was irrevocably lost.
The surviving gnomes fled to the safety of the dwarven stronghold of Ironforge. There they remain, devising strategies to retake their city. As a gnome of proud standing, it falls to you to answer the challenge and lead your curious people to a brighter future.
As far as I am concerned, Terry Pratchett is the definitive source for all things Dwarvish (not to mention Orangutan).Ringo Flinthammer wrote:The inimitable Terry Pratchett on dwarves:
Heh, the "Raene's Cleansing" quest as well as paying attention to the subtext of the various night elf quests in general, says that "elves = bastards" quite loudly.goomba_boy wrote:Of course, if you do accept the Pratchett mythos, that makes my NE a real bastard, doesn't it (Lords and Ladies, The Wee Free Men)?