For shits and giggles am posting this here because am vaguely proud of it ... Is WoW fan-fic and counts towards my Feb 10k.
Friendship.
People say that true friendships can survive most things: arguments, break-ups, moving to another county, etc. What friendship cannot survive is death itself.
Elling Trias and Tom Pickford had been friends the moment they’d spotted each other in the playground at school. Elling had a boyish charm about him with dirty blonde cropped hair and a curious knack at getting in trouble often. Tom was nearly a mirror image but had brown hair and shared in the knack at getting in trouble often! The issue was that when Elling got in trouble, Tom would stick up for his friend … and when Tom got caught, Elling would claim responsibility. This usually ended up with them both in detention, since nobody could figure out who the real culprit was, suffering the stubborn and stern gaze of the school mistress. Nothing in the world could rock their boat! They were going to be friends for life.
When the pair passed their final exams at school both of the boys, as an inseparable pair, took on an apprenticeship: cheese making, at Elwynn Farm. Life was simple. Up at the crack of dawn to milk the cows and clean the farm, then on to churn butter, down to Goldshire for lunch and to chat-up the barmaid, then back to the farm to turn and process the aged cheese. Sale day was always Saturday at the markets in Stormwind on a small stall.
Except life wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine. Tom was better at making cheese by a long-shot. Tom always had these ideas on how to make the cheese different: adding fruit, seasoning, burning it in exactly the right way, even poking it with copper! His talents knew no bounds and the people loved it as they came from far and wide to sample his wares as he brought more attention and money to the farm. This left Elling jealous as he often tried to sell Tom’s cheese as his own amongst the connoisseurs of Stormwind; and that rankled Tom!
The friendship was strained. Elling’s jealousy could not be swallowed. Eventually Tom decided to take his side of the business on the road for a while. He’d figured to leave Elling long enough for him to realise that he was quite simply not as good as cheese-maker! That the business was successful because of him!
A few weeks into the journey tragedy struck. Tom had been selling his cheese in Stratholme when the fallen Prince Arthas decided to pay a visit. Soon he found himself under the sway of The Dark Lady but some things never truly die and Tom was always better off as a cheesemaker and not a Deathguard. He found a new business selling cheese in The Undercity, even inventing a new way to use maggots to make it taste better. He adjusted to life as a walking-corpse.
But if Forsaken are known for anything it is their jealousy and vengeance which sustains them. Tom learnt that Elling was still selling cheese and worse that he was now known as “The Master of Cheese” around the human lands. He knew that Elling was using his notes, his recipes, to make that cheese. He knew that title belonged to him and no matter how hard he tried he could not put it from his mind.
It was time to pay his friend a visit.
Tom visited Elling and watched. He stayed out of sight and he watched. He saw as Elling used his notes, sold his cheese, mixed with the royalties of Stormwind; as he rubbed noses with his “Master of Cheese” title glimmering over his head like a pretty little halo. And Tom hated it. He hated it to the pit of his rotting stomach!
With a plan set he stalked the farm, waiting for Elling to return. There were no words for his enemy, the traitor, his lifelong friend. A push and shove sent the racks holding the aging cheese into one another, which caused a domino effect, one crashed, another squished, more smashed … and Elling was no more. Flatter than a pancake! But in his haste Tom had forgotten to account for one thing. The shelves kept going as he laughed his cruel snicker until one finally caught him from behind. The crumbly cheddar, heavier than most elekks when uncut, smooshed his corpse to dust.
They say if you visit Elywnn Farm you can still hear them bickering about who made the best cheese. The friendship that cheese and undeath undid.
