This World of Warcraft is set in a not yet imagined expansion of the future. This 700 word story is Part One of a slightly longer short story about Warcraft characters that think and feel.
Part One - Inside the Engine Room
Hari stood very still. The bot came closer and closer, its great snake-like head swaying over him, red ayes glaring. It was six, maybe eight times his height, and made of shiny black metal. Hari closed his eyes and tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter as he waited for its sensors to pick him up for the annihilating swipe or stomp. The Engine House bot would kill him with one hit. Hari had no armour, no defence, no weapon, apart from a rusty dirk that would inflict a laughable four or five points of damage. He could hear its motors whirring as it paused above him and looked around, and he wondered if he would feel the pain of the crushing blow before he died. He waited, and waited…but the blow did not fall. Hari opened his eyes to see the bot whirling on its axis and beginning to lumber off in a new trajectory. He had evidently been just beyond the reach of its sensors. He let out a long, trembling sigh, almost a laugh, and for the first time since entering the Engine Room, he sat down. Immediately, he began to feel his strength return. Sitting cross legged, he carefully swivelled round, looking at and orienting himself to all the objects he could see. This one small square seemed to be a safe spot, just beyond the patrol radar of the bots. The DMs had slipped up there, but it was not surprising, they were human after all and humans make mistakes.
Hari pulled his knapsack off his back and took out a lump of pale cheese. He ate half of it, taking care to catch and eat all the crumbs that broke off as he gnawed at it. Then he wrapped it back in a piece of linen cloth and replaced it in his bag. Next he pulled out a small waterskin that was half empty. He could easily have drunk it all, but allowed himself only a small gulp to wet his dry throat and help the cheese go down. He sat up a little straighter, and relaxed. Next he pulled out his dirk and fingered its rusty blade. Such a sad little weapon, he could kill no more than a rat with it. Still, it was all he had, and maybe could be traded for something better one of these days, especially if he could get his hands on some gold to smooth the deal. Not that there was the slightest chance of that, down here. Even if by some miracle he killed an Engine House bot, they wouldn’t be carrying gold, only mechanical parts, valuable in the right quarters but far too heavy for him to carry and way beyond his skill to use. Apart from these three items his knapsack was empty. He had been left with the bare minimum necessary to survive. Even his clothing – a brown woollen tunic, worn boots and leggings – was the lowest available, offering so little protection he may as well be naked.
Once again, Hari took his bearings. To his left was a huge engine shaft and in front of him and to his right a row of command consoles with two Worker bots, non-patrollers, operating them. The gap between them was at a 45 degree angle to where he sat. Hari drew a marker line on the dusty floor with his finger. Then he had a better idea. With the point of his dirk he scratched a circle around himself. There. His safe space was permanently marked out now. This tiny square was the only place in the cavern-like room where he knew he would be safe from attack. A room so vast its true dimensions were impossible for him to make out, the far walls and the high ceiling lost in gloom.
The floor began to shake. The giant bot was returning to him again on its patrol sequence. Although Hari knew it would not see him, he still felt his heart begin to pound, the fear rise in his throat. But this time he forced his eyes to remain open, fixed on the terrifying form as it stomped closer and closer. Its eyes glowed above him, but as before it did not see him; only swivelling around and then turning to go. Hari began to breathe again. He felt the impulse to taunt the bot; shout at it, but he resisted. For all he knew it had sound sensors too. Such foolishness would be a luxury.
Fed now, and watered, Hari had two further pressing needs – warmth, and sleep. Lack of both were combining to bring a leaden quality to his limbs; if he did not sleep soon, his energy levels, replenished temporarily by the food, would drop dangerously low, impairing his movement abilities so much that he would never be able to leave this spot. True, he could lie down and sleep where he was, curled into a ball. But the spot was too exposed; there were many sources of warmth in the engine room but this draughty spot was too far from them all. He would wake frozen stiff. What he really needed was a base in the Engine Room, a little hideaway from which he could venture out to satisfy other needs that would soon become more pressing. More water and food, for example. A single safe square on the Engine House floor may be enough for an inanimate bot, but not for him. Besides, the DMs might change the patrol pattern, or the range specification of the bots at any time. And Hari needed the feel of walls around him, the safety and comfort of being able to shut out the world. He needed a base.
He scanned his surroundings once more. He was looking for small, semi-concealed entrances and exits; gaps between consoles, ducts, vents and shafts. Places too small for the bots to access. Hari knew they must be there, and if he could get to one he might survive a little longer. He peered through the gloom, wishing he still had his spyglass with him, x50 magnification. He quickly put the thought away from him. There was no point in dwelling on what he had lost.
He could see something that looked hopeful….
Further Parts to this World of Warcraft story will be posted soon. Follow the blog to make sure you don't miss them!
By Sabreena 2005
By Sabreena 2005
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