| Article of the Month|
This page has been claimed as an Article of the Month.
- "All triumphant successes perpetuated by HappyShell Magics are defined as Huge. In an utterly unconnected and truly peripheral annotation, so are the craters."
The details of her appearance are prone to change. While most of the Forsaken have realized that, with death having removed aging from the list of things they have to worry about, it has replaced it with decay, and so they value what is left of their bodies, knowing they have to make them last a very, very long time. HappyShell seems to disregard what is otherwise seen as a fundamental truth of life beyond the Scourge, and will frequently instead of seeking medical attention to repair herself after an altercation, she is just as likely to simply replace the overly damaged parts, if of course, the freshly defeated donor’s injuries were elsewhere. Still, while no tailor, her skill with a needle is not unmentionable, so she maintains a mostly feminine shape beneath lumpy, ill-fitting robes. The exception to this is above the neckline, where she has, rather than appropriating new eyes to replace the ones that didn’t manage to make it out of the Lich King’s service with her, she opted instead to take their absence as a blessing, and use the vacated holes to attach heavy riveted leather bands to, in her own words, “reinforce calcinate structural processes for the containment and protection of Vital Cranial Apparatus.”
Since having reawoken in Tirisfal, the physical absence of eyes manages to fail to impede her sight, as a result, and cause, of her choice in paths to follow in her new unlife. Though the demons she has bound into her service as a warlock are generally quite upset to find her intending to piggyback along inside their heads and see through their eyes at first, it is generally not so much that in doing so she sees into their minds, but that THEY are forced to see into HERS, and it rubs off.
Her imp was her first, as with most warlocks, and the most voiciferous. He complained bitterly about a demon of his age not only forced to serve, but to ride around on her forearm like some sort of turreted sock-puppet. He was eventually quieted by the suggestion that otherwise the Doing of Magic might require emphatically detailed inquiry into the elasticity of his... metaphor.
Her voidwalker is a terrifying sight to behold, having acclimatised to her within mere minutes. Others remain uncertain whether she has driven it mad, or if it simply likes her unique outlook on existence and the place in it for running up and hitting things, which it does enthusiastically whilst screaming errata pertaining to HappyShell Magics Required Smashing Procedures.
The Weighted Companion Succubus will never threaten to stab you, and in fact, cannot speak. If the Weighted Companion Succubus does speak, please disregard its advice.
Her felhound is not often seen, as she herself is unable to work out why its capacities seem to consist of trotting mindlessly along behind her until provoked, at which point it will begin to emit a high-pitched keening wail, which will increase in intensity until the felhound itself explodes.
At the current time, on the recommendation of the Undercity Mages’ Council, Lady Sylvannas Windrunner has personally issued a writ forbidding HappyShell from attempting to bind a DoomGuard or an Infernal without the personal assistance and supervision of at least one of the Creators.
All pre-death information pertaining to HappyShell Magics employees is provisionallatedy classificationed at this time. Under no circumstances have the pertinent files been folded, spindled, mutilated, or otherwise dismembered beyond all recognition.
HappyShell Magics issues no apologies or retractions regarding the statement that the information gleaned from study of the scourge plague is of greater value than the combined income and organs of everyone in [insert subject home-kingdom here].
Though she is aware that she has been instructed to work with one Deathstalker by the name of Mex (aka Mexcaracas, Stop That Rogue, Deranged Filthy Swine, and Person or Persons Unknown Wanted for Crimes Against Decency) in the formation of the Forsaken’s first “We really hope something can make them stay dead” squad, this does not upset her. Quite the contrary, in fact, as their assignments inevitably find them far from any possibility of clarifying orders in subject-rich environments, and in truth these are the ideal preconditions for Doing Magic in such a fashion as to engender high probabilities of Huge Success. She is uncertain what to think of the Blood Elf named Silandra, who came back with Mex after she had been left behind in order for him to attend to “Secret DeathStalker Business, not for de demonic senoritas,” as upon querying the Chain of Command for further input, all she received was the enigmatic order, “Go stick your head in a pig.” As Required Testing Procedures necessitate respect for the chain of command, she complied at the first available opportunity, albeit perplexed at the clearly efficient intelligence service. She hadn’t even reported the fact that she was keeping the head of a particularly cheerful Scarlet Crusader as a memento, but she disposed of it as they had so clearly commanded.
Feesh Tacos, or whatever the title will be when it’s completed, since i’m not actually writing that one.