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Real Waifu Catalog: Warcraft Beta Tester

What happens after we die? Apparently we are shipped off to market to be reincarnated. In my case, I lucked out. I’ve been chosen to act as a beta tester for a whole artificial copy of the World of Warcraft, equipped with a moderately accelerated ability to learn magic and a collection of amulets that could condition their wearers to love me. No leveling, but I’ve got everything I need if I don’t do anything too stupid. Heavy on brainwashing, heavy on scheming, heavy on plot, modest on smut, and with far too many characters and far too many chapters, I proudly present this offering unto you, good reader. Based in the World of Warcraft and drawing heavily from SwiftRosenthal’s Waifu catalog, this is a harem building, mind control heavy, extremely nerdy story that I started on and it just got really out of hand.

Jerynboe · Jeux vidéo
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234 Chs

The Lodge

5/17 late morning

Before I left for Quel'Lithien lodge, I gave Dena a necklace and directed her to return to Stormwind and prepare her house for refugees. I fully intended to move most, if not all, of the elves to Quel'Danil lodge eventually, and that meant at least a few people headed to Southshore. I didn't have anywhere in Southshore for them to go yet, so Stormwind first. Anywhere is safer than where they are now. Varian and Katrana were both under my thumb, so getting them a bit of formal backing and help shouldn't be too hard.

I pulled Ursula from the field too, sending the druid spirits to assist and obey Drusilla instead. From Ursula's report, they'd been very efficient in helping to gather soul shards. I should be able to pull together an assault force on Morganth's tower tonight.

I called ahead, and teleported to Caledra's position, which as it turns out was a bed in a crowded communal sleeping area. My appearance drew some attention, but elves were a bit desensitized to gross displays of arcane power and communication talent informed me that the guards had been warned of my imminent arrival. Their tense stance let me know that if they hadn't, I'd probably be a pincushion right now.

I leaned on Caledra, putting an arm around her shoulder and letting her support my weight. She wasn't a very large woman, high elves tend to be tall but slender, but she managed well enough. "Alright. Can you bring me to whoever I need to talk to about the proposed alliance? I've secured the King's cooperation."

"Of course, Lord Bismark." She couldn't help but let her affection creep into her voice. Hopefully she wasn't some kind of ice queen normally; I didn't want her friends to think, correctly, that she'd been drugged with a love potion or something. Note. Look into domestically sourced love potions. 

The lodge wasn't big, and it was definitely crowded. Most of the elves present looked gaunt, a bit sickly. At first I thought it was just the obvious fact that they didn't have enough food that was safe to eat, but then I saw a couple of absolutely emaciated elves passing out bread and water. It clicked. They could conjure food, but they didn't have an external source of magic.

Elves in the Warcraft universe are notoriously mana hungry; as a species, they are the result of a specific group of trolls finding a source of limitless magical energy and just going ham with it. Their entire biology was warped by the constant influx of mana, making them physically dependent on magic.

Then the Well of Eternity exploded half the planet, shattering the single continent into four smaller continents and a near infinite supply of islands that Blizzard can put new content on. Long story short, the night elves are the elves that turned to the Druidic and priestly arts, generally focusing on moderation at that point, swearing off of arcane magic and tying their life force to a giant tree blessed by the dragon aspects. The high elves decided that whole earth shattering explosion and demonic invasion was probably a fluke, took samples from the old Well of Eternity, and made a smaller well of only practicallyinfinite power, which they called the Sunwell.

Naturally that was then used to create one of the more powerful undead beings in the Warcraft universe and kick off a demonic invasion, corrupting it in the process, and I'm pretty sure that a dragon turned the remaining safe to use parts of it into a blonde teenage girl for storage purposes or something. Not clear on details there, it was never explained well in game and the comic book was generally poorly reviewed. What can I say, I didn't expect it to be meaningfully relevant to me.

The way that all shook out was that high elves, by far the ones most reliant on external sources of mana at this point, no longer have a reliable, infinite source. Someone like Calendra, who primarily focused on physical activities and only supplemented with magic, would probably be fine if she just drank the occasional potion or spent a lot of time around spells being cast. These mages, who were actively using their own mana to feed their community, had it far worse. It was heroic in a way; these elves had been exiled because they refused to make use of sketchy and amoral power sources, and now these two were sticking to their guns.

Food could be replaced with magic, but magic couldn't be replaced with food. Probably. Sagefish boosts mana regen in game so it might work, but that's probably academic since there isn't any sagefish available here.

"Caledra. Stop." I shuffled my way over to the two mages, pulling out a few bottles of blue liquid; minor mana potions Abby had made with stray materials that couldn't easily be used for anything more useful. "Sorry. This is all I've got." The two elven women took them and downed them immediately, before looking sadly at the bottle, shaking out the last few drops and wiping the inside of the bottle with their finger. I noticed jealous looks from a few other elves, which they quickly concealed, either from shame or social grace. Yep. Even the non mages were craving magical energy.

We made our way to a small office, occupied by a muscular elven man with absolutely fabulous black hair partially tied up in a high ponytail. He was wearing chainmail armor, even here indoors; communication talent told me he probably never took it off except to wash. It was a statement, "I will protect you." He only glanced at me as I entered.

"Ah. The envoy from the human king. Well, come, have a seat. My name is Renthar Hawkspear; and you are?" He took another look at me when he saw my mutilated left hand, recoiling and putting a hand on his sword.

"Stop, stop. I'm not undead. Just injured from a recent battle. Our healers managed to keep me alive, but I've been on bedrest and trollsblood for days. I managed to convince them I was good to come and have a talk. Name's Bismark. Otto Bismark."

He processed that, then relaxed slightly. He nodded and gestured towards a bare shelf on the wall. "I'd offer you something to drink, but we don't have much left on tap. So, what does the Alliance want from us now?"

"I come on behalf of a group that wishes to heal the many ills of Azeroth. Not officially affiliated with any single kingdom, though we are primarily operating in Stormwind so far and have the King's ear. I wish to help you leave this place, and have the means for you to do so. In return, we would ask your aid in a single battle against an unfortunately rampaging dragon. One not so very far from Quel'Danil lodge."

He looked skeptical. "A single dragon? It must be a mighty one indeed for it to be worth your time all the way in Stormwind. Why would you come to us instead of the Wildhammer clan?"

"The Wildhammers can be erratic. This dragon is sick, rather than truly malevolent. If we can, we would like to at least try to heal them. I don't believe I can trust a dwarf to strike with precision if his own lands are under threat."

"And we are the nearest group capable of that?"

I shrugged. "No. But Lady Dawnbreeze asked for help for your people, and I could provide it without excessive danger or cost to myself. I hope that, should the situation be reversed in the future, I might find a wise and well armed group of elves thriving somewhere in the Hinterlands. I won't hold you to anything beyond that first battle, and for that I ask only for a few of your most elite."

He steepled his fingers. "So what is this plan, exactly? How do you intend to get two hundred elves through the Plaguelands? Did you convince the Scarlets to share their harbor, perhaps?"

I braced myself for this to go sour, reaching out mentally for the memory charm and seal of joy in my inventory. "Same way I got here. I have a set of amulets that allow teleportation between one another. Quite an exceptional asset, but one which practically begs to be used, no? I also have a small arcane space that I can allow the last of the defenders to retreat to should the Scourge notice and take advantage, from which we can all use the amulets to escape."

His jaw went slack. I'd just described a completely viable plan for me, but one which would demand such an obscene level of magical expenditure and powerful magical artifacts as to boggle the mind, assuming I was using the kind of magic he was familiar with.

"If you would like, I could let Calendra demonstrate?"

"I will need to have my mages examine these amulets very closely. I don't wish to be crass, but the Scourge thrives on deception." Dammit. To be expected though. Deception and communication talent put their heads together and gave me an idea.

"I will of course do anything I can to Soothe your fears," as I spoke I put just a whisper of power into the shadow word, restrained enough that communication talent thought it was unlikely he'd catch on. "But it is very precious. I'll need to be there with her while she examines it, preferably in private. To borrow a phrase, I don't wish to be crass but it's quite a repository of arcane energy and I don't want to be waving it around here."

He nodded reluctantly. "Very well. An acceptable compromise I suppose."

He sent a runner to the two mages I had seen earlier, apparently the only two in the lodge. To my shock and delight, only one of the two came back; the other was staying at the bread line. The reddish blonde haired elven woman smiled when she saw me, and introduced herself formally as Kriss Goldlight.

She and I moved into a small room off to the side, near the office. It looked to be an alchemy lab, though the shelves were bare. We sat down at the old, scarred table.

"Well alright then. I'll need to take a look, sir." She gave me a pleasant smile, and I called the memory charm to hand, and I palmed it, sticking it mostly into my sleeve.

"I'm sorry," I held up my mangled hand, "I'm not used to this; hopefully I never have to be. Could you undo the clasp? You could also just look at it while it's still around my neck, if you like."

She winced, her eyes fixed on my mangled hand. "Oh. Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't think." She stood up and went to take hold of my necklace, and I quickly grasped her wrist with my good hand, pressing the active part of the charm against her skin.