Short but sweet. Again, no crossover elements present, though this time because it was a complete rush-job. I got an extension for Black Friday, but then an opportunity to spend time with an RL family member ended up eating up the entire day and I was left with a grand total of two and a half hours to finish it. It only got done because Lugubrious thankfully offered me credit for everything I wrote before 2 AM. I should have worked on it earlier in the month, but I had writer's block for most of it and ended up pontificating over whether to scrap the entire thing or not and start fresh.

Anyway, here it is. A measly 644 words.

[hider=A Cause for Celebration]
The snow fell heavily in Elwynn Forest that night. But the small hamlet of Goldshire, located a short ride by Gryphon from the mighty walls of Stormwind, was warm and prosperous as the stars shone in the sky and the cold winter air tried and failed to breach the Lion’s Pride Inn.

Tonight, the town was merry. Because tonight was the night of not a mere ceasefire, but the signing of a peace treaty that ended the Alliance-Horde conflict. Tonight, orcs and Forsaken could relax alongside humans and night elves.

And for those who a certain monk picked as his companions, that meant one thing.

Donnie gripped his tankard tightly as he looked across the long table he had reserved, taking in the faces of all of the people present. 

There was Tokala Mountainwater, the Tauren shaman who had worked with him for many years. He was known for his patience and ability to curry favor with elemental spirits even easier than most shamans. He looked at Donnie with his normal calm, perhaps helped by the fact that he was on his tenth glass owing to his massive size.

Next to him was the Blood Elven warlock known as Tervumir Violetkind, who had frankly always felt somewhat out-of-place among his boisterous cross-faction guild, and would normally be in his study poring over a demonic or arcane text right about now, but he had insisted on accompanying them this time: He didn’t want to miss this for the world, he said. Unfortunately, he had dramatically overestimated his willingness to party and was already looking quite uncomfortable.

Then there was Aenren Silentwing, a Void Elven Huntress and the guild’s resident tracker, markswoman and beastmaster. If there was something you wanted found and full of arrows, she was your girl. She was also a total lightweight, and looked like she was barely conscious of her surroundings at the moment.

And that was just a few of those who had gathered here today.

The Peaceblades were a guild that Donnie formed as a refuge from those who wanted an out from the constant war that had plagued the world. Not the wars for survival against lich kings, corrupted black dragons, and demonic hordes, but that damned Alliance-Horde conflict that had sowed distrust, bloodshed, and sorrow. Like any adventurer’s guild, the Peaceblades had an allegiance, but it was to Azeroth itself.

As such, this was a momentous day for all of them.

Donnie raised a glass, saying,  “My friends, companions, and fellow adventurers from across Azeroth, I propose a toast. To peace. To cultural exchange. To the fact that we can feast together as equals in this inn for the first time in history. But most importantly of all…TO DRINKING THIS TAVERN DRY!”

A roar of approval went out from the tavern as a whole at that, and the drinking began in earnest.

The night was merry and raucous, as the barmaid kept up diligently with a record-breaking quantity of drink orders, delicious food was consumed by all, games were played, songs were sung, and Donnie won at least three impromptu Hearthstone tournaments.

By the end of it all, the monk and all of his guildmates were staggering out the door. Donnie, carrying a sleeping Aenren over his shoulder, managed to be sober enough to tell the Gryphon Master to get everyone a ride to Stormwind, and thankfully no-one fell off their gryphons. Also, no idiots tried to fly drunk, a first this time.

And with that, Donnie staggered into his original home. Sure, he had an excellent bed at the Temple of Five Dawns, but like hell was he going to try Zen Pilgrimage while completely shitfaced. Luckily, he had bought his original house back a few months ago.

And so, he collapsed into bed as the festivities continued throughout the city. He’d had enough for one night.
[/hider]