Trophies of the Hunt

He smirks as you prompt him further for the story. Eagerly, he begins.
"They call 'er ... The black sow of Ol' Winslow. Aye, it was just your average piggie, held by a respected farmer in the Westfall region, see? That was before everything went belly-up. The Cataclysm, aye- it did a number on Westfall, and Winslow's farm was ripped to shreds by freakish wind storms. 'Course, people had more to worry about than Winslow's pigs. Heck, they didn't even know where the man 'imself went... It wasn't until a few months ago, that... people started saying they had seen the ol' sow again."

He leans close, confidentially, although his volume makes sure everyone who cares to listen hears him.

'Aye- an old farmhand of the Winslow's. Said he'd recognise her from a million- ... But something was wrong. The beast was thrice its old size... And fierce, fiercer than any boar has any right to be... And of course- they said it ate -life- prey."

He nods grimly, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Some say it 'ad come back from the grave, to wreck havoc on 'all the poor sods that loved their bacon- Aye, it ate people. Westfall is crawlin' with them. Bums, that noone'd miss... And this beast feasted on 'em... Of course, that was before the Braves."

He rises up again, snatching another mug to wash. Pausing for a moment to let you process the information.

"Oh yes- The Band of the Braves set out to hunt that particular nasty. You can only eat people for so long before some takes notice. The Braves weren't the first to notice however. Some militia had set out to kill the beast before. It bore scars on its back from its attacks... But in the end, nothing could pierce its hide. When the Braves set upon the beast... they too tried to slash and hack at its back, but met the same result. The monster charged and bucked, leaving many of the brave heroes wounded. Aye - it looked dire."

He grins and leans close again.

"But 'course, when the Braves come... They come packin' heat. One of them, the draenei known as Monrena had built herself some monstrous rocket. A dozen explosives or more, tied together and she shot it straight at the monsters side! Like BLAM!"

He smacks his hands loudly to illustrate! Some other patrons look up in surprise.

"Unfortunately, most of the other Braves were knocked back by the blast too... But it worked! The beast was on its back, and quickly all those that weren't on fire due to the explosion rallied to slice and hack at its soft belly! T'was bleedin' now- But no, it wasn't over. It charged into the death knight Cedrick and ran him straight into a tree. Death knights are tough, but this thing was angry now!"

"The rest came after it, hacking and slashing as best as they could- but it was one wily dwarf that managed to smack some sense into it; the dwarf Krag. He made a fist, hot like lava, -don't ask me how he did it- ... WOMP! Straight in the eye!"

The barkeep points upwards at the hanging head, indicating the bare skull.

"Aye, see that? There wasn't much to salvage from that burnin' socket...! But it still was not over... The beast tried to run for it. To eat people another day, see."

He pauses, and starts to clean his mug again. Drawing out the ending until finally, with a wink, he continues.

"Oh- aye. They did get him in the end, of course. A fine shot did it- one of the finest I have heard of. See, that beast trodded away, weak and upset... and it cast one final look back at those who had bested it. One final, fatal look... A shot rang, and pierced it, right through that molten eye-"The barkeep peels at his right eye. "-into its brain."

"A fine shot- aye... From one of the Band's, and perhaps one of finest marksmen in Azeroth- Our very own Tarlin."