"Might ya be knowin' where dat Cyrus mon be found?" A scratchy voice eminated over Cyrus' heartshtone.
The common was rusty, with definite traces of Orcish. He was laying heavily on his "r"s. With a small glimmer of irritation, the large Draenei picked up his hearthstone from the railing outside the Blue Recluse. "Speaking," He returned, not even trying to hide his mood.
"Ah, ya. It seems we got some business of da unfinished sort, eh?" The voice replied. "My name be Dreejin, mon. Ya ought to be findin' yaself over to Dalaran for a quick meetin'. Don' be worryin', now... i's not about Grymm."
******
The wait hadn't been long. Dreejin soon appeared in the purple parlor, the highest point in Dalaran where Cyrus agreed to meet.
"Apologies for da wait, mon. Da boss here here real soon-like," Dreejin said with a likely-faked innocent expression. He had kindly neglected to mention there would be another Modas with him before they were already in a room together. No matter.
"I see ya' chose da' 'ighest point in all Dalaran, Cyrus. Can' help but wonda, though... maybe dat Rhonnin is compensatin' for sometin'?"The troll commented aloud, drawing a scowl from a mage across the room before it teleported out.
Not finding his humor available, Cyrus stood from his seat, striding out to the balcony with Dreejin right behind him. A wolfish grin spread across a relaxed figure's face as he became visible against the railing. Valtherimas leaned off the railing, seeming far too casual for a meeting with the enemy who's ally was sitting in an Ocheliad dungeon.
There were no fools here. Cyrus was not going to blindly trust a troll that specialized in heart theft that their meeting would be private.
Soon enought, the boss Dreejin had spoken of before landed on the balcony, deposited by his drake.
Aziel.
Cyrus turned to face the two Modas who now stood side by side. Valtherimas was standing behind and to the right of Cyrus, not seeming to care much for the meeting unless he found some excuse to bury his axe in something.
Dreejin and Aziel exchanged glances, the troll mostly popping off a few jokes. Most of the words seemed to be dulling out, as Cyrus' headache had returned. The light outside felt like it was bearing down on his skull, and his focus was suffering for it. He did, however, catch the finer point of what Dreejin had called him here for.
"Da Modas be specializin' in goods tradin', mon. Women, slaves who be good wit' swingin' da shovels for ya, weapons, anytin'. But.... there ain't no profit like war profit, mon. And since dis war between da Alliance an' Horde ain't gonna be endin' no time soon, wat sayin' ya to a mutual pa'tnership?" Dreejin said with Aziel's apparent approval. The lich was remaining mostly quiet and letting Dreejin run this. Cyrus was willing to bet this had been the troll's idea.
The common was rusty, with definite traces of Orcish. He was laying heavily on his "r"s. With a small glimmer of irritation, the large Draenei picked up his hearthstone from the railing outside the Blue Recluse. "Speaking," He returned, not even trying to hide his mood.
"Ah, ya. It seems we got some business of da unfinished sort, eh?" The voice replied. "My name be Dreejin, mon. Ya ought to be findin' yaself over to Dalaran for a quick meetin'. Don' be worryin', now... i's not about Grymm."
******
The wait hadn't been long. Dreejin soon appeared in the purple parlor, the highest point in Dalaran where Cyrus agreed to meet.
"Apologies for da wait, mon. Da boss here here real soon-like," Dreejin said with a likely-faked innocent expression. He had kindly neglected to mention there would be another Modas with him before they were already in a room together. No matter.
"I see ya' chose da' 'ighest point in all Dalaran, Cyrus. Can' help but wonda, though... maybe dat Rhonnin is compensatin' for sometin'?"The troll commented aloud, drawing a scowl from a mage across the room before it teleported out.
Not finding his humor available, Cyrus stood from his seat, striding out to the balcony with Dreejin right behind him. A wolfish grin spread across a relaxed figure's face as he became visible against the railing. Valtherimas leaned off the railing, seeming far too casual for a meeting with the enemy who's ally was sitting in an Ocheliad dungeon.
There were no fools here. Cyrus was not going to blindly trust a troll that specialized in heart theft that their meeting would be private.
Soon enought, the boss Dreejin had spoken of before landed on the balcony, deposited by his drake.
Aziel.
Cyrus turned to face the two Modas who now stood side by side. Valtherimas was standing behind and to the right of Cyrus, not seeming to care much for the meeting unless he found some excuse to bury his axe in something.
Dreejin and Aziel exchanged glances, the troll mostly popping off a few jokes. Most of the words seemed to be dulling out, as Cyrus' headache had returned. The light outside felt like it was bearing down on his skull, and his focus was suffering for it. He did, however, catch the finer point of what Dreejin had called him here for.
"Da Modas be specializin' in goods tradin', mon. Women, slaves who be good wit' swingin' da shovels for ya, weapons, anytin'. But.... there ain't no profit like war profit, mon. And since dis war between da Alliance an' Horde ain't gonna be endin' no time soon, wat sayin' ya to a mutual pa'tnership?" Dreejin said with Aziel's apparent approval. The lich was remaining mostly quiet and letting Dreejin run this. Cyrus was willing to bet this had been the troll's idea.
Edited by Çyrus on 2/6/2012 7:26 AM PST
