So, I's been taking advantage of the fact what me dwarf disguise sometimes buggers up and turns me inta a draenaninae, with horns and chintacles and all, to have some fun clearing out the bad guys on Bloodmyst and earn some money. The other day I helped this one bugger kill a buncha evil blood evils and one really tall spacegoat chick so he could blow up Victor's Coil. Never did find out who Victor was. It were easy to tell these were evil blood elves as opposed ta the good ones in Shat and Silvermoon, 'cause I were gettin' paid for to put they's arses down. Anywho, afters we's done I go back ta Blood Watch ta pick up me reward, and the local chief spacegoat says "Oh by the way, there's this really old gluppersugger outside wants to talk to you."
So I steps outside, and there's Prophet Velen waiting fer me - the top Dreannannenei hisself. Now you may remembers what Jaina saw through me disguise like it were made of really easy ta see through stuff, and I's expecting this bugger ta do the same. And he don't strike me as the type to be hungry fer some orc-lovin' the way she were, no matters how amazingly virile I is. And this makes me a little nervous.
But no - he were totally fooled. Slapped me on the shoulder, said I'd done fulfilled some ancient prophecy, saved the spacegoats, blah blah blah. And he talked on and on, and sorta drifted off ta sleep a bit before waking up and talking some more. Lotta stuff about Kil'jaeden and Gul'dan and evil treacherous orcs and spaceships and that thing that spacegoat wimmens do with they's tails and whoo doggie don't that feel good. Okay, mebbe he didn't say that last part and I were mentally drifting during his speachifyings. Not sure. I can't be bothered ta keep track of the details.
Eventually he got to the end and gave me a nice ring and a kinda ugly tabard, both of which they only gives ta the greatest spacegoat heroes. Pfft. Whatta noob. I were half-tempted ta take me disguise off then and there, just ta see the look on his face, but I didn't. He also offered me the hand of his oldest daughter, but I could tell by lookin' at him what he hadn't gotten his groove on in over a thousand years, and while older wimmens is fine now and then, there's a limit, ya know? So I told him no thankee, I weren't the marrying type.
So we had us a party, me and the spacegoats and the furblogs and Admiral Odysseus' crew and all. And I showed Kyleen Il'dinare a few tricks ya don't learn by worshipping the light on top of a giant tree, which she were most grateful for several times. And Prophet Velen? That old fool never did figger out who I really were. So much fer prophecisings.