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Written in neat, slightly slanted lettering on crisp white parchment.


Drakehide, Son of Mok'Rukh,


Firstly, I would like to thank you for your interest and support in the Modas il Toralar's activities. Reading your letter was a rare pleasure as, in general, the mail we receive regarding the Order's exploits are typically a good deal less polite. Secondly, I wish to express my deepest sympathies concerning your recent time spent as a prisoner of war. It is the Order's greatest hope that in due time the Alliance races will be nothing more than an unforunate memory.


Now, regarding your concerns toward our acquisition of slaves, let me put your troubles to rest. It has always been the Modas il Toralar's standard operating procedure that, when attacking an Alliance settlement, all soldiers and militia are slain, the civillian population is enslaved, and the dead collected for necromantic, reagent or feeding purposes. Here at the Modas il Toralar, we are firm believers in letting nothing go to waste - one could say we are, in fact, an environmentally conscious organisation, if one disregards our assistance with the biohazard waste site that was once the village of Southshore. Thus, I would not categorise the slaves in our care as honourable warriors. I do hope that this allays your concerns.


As to your mentioning of the harems and sideshows, I must admit that we do experience some difficulty in selling off certain product, specifically night elves and worgen. It is, after all, a time of war and certain luxuries such as harems and sideshows are often unable to turn a decent profit, and are subsequently unable to purchase additional slaves. The Undermarket has a strict policy, whereby slaves are given six months to impress potential customers, and if failing that, unsuccessful slaves are summarily liquidated. While I cannot say if our methods for the removal of unwanted slave product could be considered as 'honourable', I can definately vouch for our efficiency. After all, there are costs associated with the upkeep of slave product, and we do not wish to operate at a loss. In short, I can assure you that any suffering that may or may not be felt by our slaves, specifically night elf and worgen, do not continue needlessly.


Again, we wish to express our gratitude to your interest in the Modas il Toralar's activities. I sincerely hope that my response has alleviated any troubles that you may have felt regarding our processes. If you have any further questions, please do not hesitate to contact either myself or the Claviger who currently runs the Undermarket, the troll Dree'jin of the Skullsplitter.


I wish you all the best in your endeavours,
Fernand Argustus
Department of Horde Relations
Modas il Toralar

((Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. xD I cannot express how brilliant I found your response, Argustus, or how hard it made me lawl. I'd almost call it a ROFLMAO lawl. IC, Drake's horrified and mortified right now, but I applaud you for this response. I got such a kick out of this. Will try and write a reply from Drake shortly!))

Drakehide read the response for what seemed like the thousandth time. He read and reread it in the dim light of his father's home until his eyes hurt. Often, the warrior would switch between reading the response he's received from Argustus, and the reply he received from Zalmar on a related note some days ago. He also read and reread the correspondence from several of his other contacts as well.

"All...of this reading..." Drakehide scowled, with a grimace, "Is making...me...ANGRY!"

Mok'Rukh passed the table, as he went about daily chores, and dropped a flask of Cactus Cider on the table with a smirk. Drakehide bowed his head in thanks to the old orc, hastily down the Cactus Cider, and felt better. A little.

He'd had the fortune of speaking with Keedriel, earlier that day, and making sure both Keedriel and Vivia were safe, but...there were still so many variables. So many unknowns. So many questions. Fortunately, it looked like the violent, almost terrorist solutions that had been posed by Drakehide's conspirators previously had finally been put at ease. Not once had Keedriel mentioned using explosives to deal with the slavery problem. This was a step in the right direction.

It, however, meant that Drakehide's negotiations with the Modas il Toralar would become that much more important. Especially if the warrior sought to resolve this before blood was spilled, or before his friends all started killing each other over this. If this turned into an internal, civil struggle - Horde versus Horde - it would not be long before the Alliance took advantage of the situation. The consequences could be disastrous.

How to respond, to Argustus' message? Truly, he was horrified and disgusted by the procedures outlined in the message. When he'd first read the response, he'd nearly thrown up.

With that being said...Modas was being co-operative. They were being civil. And they were a much-loved group, by much of the Horde, for their efficiency - ironically enough - in dealing with the Alliance threat. Drakehide respected the purpose behind their work, and so in that regard respected Modas as well. Modas was not his enemy - the slave trade, which Modas engaged in, was. Drakehide had to remember that.

The letter from Argustus outlined several important facts that Drake had to pass on to the others involved in the present scheme: Modas' slaves were civilians, and the scheme was now on a timer. Drakehide had no way of knowing how long Modas' present slaves had been in captivity - with every day that his friends waited to make their move, Drakehide feared slaves by the dozens were losing their lives, needlessly and dishonorably. That prospect was what nagged at him the most.

He needed to know more. He needed to figure out just how Modas was operating the slave trade, where the warehouses or storage facilities were located. Everything was happening too fast, though, and lives were being lost every day, the longer the son of Mok'Rukh waited.

He had to buy time.

Buy...time...

He had discussed with several of the other conspirators purchasing a slave to gather intelligence or information about Modas' dealings. While Drakehide was not eager to follow this route or endorse the slave trade with his gold, he knew that this would allow them an insight and point of view on Modas' activities that they currently lacked. Yes...he would "buy time". Time enough, hopefully, to come up with a solution.

To the Modas il Toralar,
Attn. Fernand Augustus,

Throm'ka. I am honored by your haste in responding to my requests. While I am still very curious as to how your slaving business operates, you have answered a great many of my questions and alleviated many of my concerns. I praise your efficiency -

Drakehide thought of all the slaves that Modas must surely have "liquidated" by now, and the festering mess that was now Southshore.

I praise your efficiency, and your concern for Azeroth's environment.

There. Now, he coached himself, Keep going. Write more.

With many of these concerns laid to rest, I am interested in doing business with the Modas il Toralar. While I look forward to browsing the arms you have available, I have many weapons already and so I have little need for more. Nor do I require narcotics - truly, with enough Cactus Cider all things are possible, so I require the consumption of little else.

Do it, he willed himself, Write the words.

I require slaves. Live slaves. I refer, specifically, to the night elf and human slaves you mentioned in Modas' initial advertisement. The ones who might be able to satisfy some of my more unspeakable needs. I am interested in purchasing one or more of these slaves on a permanent basis - that is, I would rather buy one than rent one - for, truly, by the time I am done with these slaves you will NOT want them back, and I do not want to meet disapproving stares when they return in condition worse than that originally issued.

Drakehide swallowed, trying to clear the rising taste of vomit from his mouth.

Despite the use I require them for, the slaves will not have to be "pretty". They do not need to be to serve their purpose. They will certainly not have to be your best stock. Why? Because the pocketbook of the Sons of Rukh is not the glorious thing that it used to be, and I would prefer to buy cheap, and in bulk. I would be interested in purchasing even sickly ones, uncooperative ones, or the ones you would otherwise throw away.

For the Modas il Toralar, this could be a chance for you to turn a tidy profit on slaves that would otherwise be discarded. Slaves that could cause you to operate at a loss.

There. It was written. That should get the point across. Hopefully, his request wouldn't tip them off...and, if he was lucky, it might save the lives of some of the next slaves on the chopping block.

Please contact me at your earliest convenience. Any information you can provide on the cost of these slaves would be most helpful. I hope, soon, that we can settle on price so that I can perhaps discuss these matters with you in person, at the nearest Undermarket location, and browse your wares.

You do great service to the Horde, Modas il Toralar. Aka'Magosh!

- Drakehide, son of -

The warrior barrelled from the home, feeling ill, and crouched down on the soil outside Mok'Rukh's home. He took several deep breaths and went inside, after collecting his composure, and completed the letter.

- Drakehide, son of Mok'Rukh

Not long thereafter, the message had been deposited into a plain envelope, which was itself dropped into a mailbox at the Crossroads. With luck, it would reach Modas soon. With more luck, they would not see through his ruse. With even more luck...he might be able to save a few non-combatants from a gruesome, dishonorable fate.

((So there's my response! ^^ Sorry for taking so long, and I hope I didn't overdo it.))

((Excellent from both sides.))

((Thanks, Gentyl! ^^))

((And, Modas, since Drake kinda is trying to undermine your slaving operation here, feel free (as long as you're okay with how this has progressed so far, and are enjoying it) to make this difficult for him, and if you're so inclined, play dirty! xD Whether Drake succeeds or fails at this, in the long run, I'm looking forward to see what curve balls you're going to throw to try and slow or outright halt his progress. Thanks again for letting me pester you good folks, and I truly hope I'm not stepping on anyone's toes with this story arc!))

((Again, I say that this thread is brilliant, Dreejin, as an RP concept. And Argustus, I cannot express how brilliant I think that letter you wrote back was. Personally, I'm having a blast, and I hope y'all are too! If I AM stepping on anyone's toes, or going overboard, etc., please let me know so that I can back off.))

Tyrynna stared at the new note, her eyes narrowed.

Civillian slaves...

Tyrynna growled and grabbed her weapons, all while swearing loudly in Darnassian.

Seems that Modas should be expecting an angry elf soon.

(( You're not stepping on anyone's toes at all, Drake. In fact, we love it when people are willing to stand up to us :P However, definately expect us to play a tad under-handed. ))

((I expect it, sir, and greatly look forward to it! :P ))

[quote]To the Modas il Toralar,
Attn. Fernand Augustus,

Throm'ka. I am honored by your haste in responding to my requests. While I am still very curious as to how your slaving business operates, you have answered a great many of my questions and alleviated many of my concerns. I praise your efficiency, and your concern for Azeroth's environment. With many of these concerns laid to rest, I am interested in doing business with the Modas il Toralar. While I look forward to browsing the arms you have available, I have many weapons already and so I have little need for more. Nor do I require narcotics - truly, with enough Cactus Cider all things are possible, so I require the consumption of little else. I require slaves. Live slaves. I refer, specifically, to the night elf and human slaves you mentioned in Modas' initial advertisement. The ones who might be able to satisfy some of my more unspeakable needs. I am interested in purchasing one or more of these slaves on a permanent basis - that is, I would rather buy one than rent one - for, truly, by the time I am done with these slaves you will NOT want them back, and I do not want to meet disapproving stares when they return in condition worse than that originally issued. Despite the use I require them for, the slaves will not have to be "pretty". They do not need to be to serve their purpose. They will certainly not have to be your best stock. Why? Because the pocketbook of the Sons of Rukh is not the glorious thing that it used to be, and I would prefer to buy cheap, and in bulk. I would be interested in purchasing even sickly ones, uncooperative ones, or the ones you would otherwise throw away.

For the Modas il Toralar, this could be a chance for you to turn a tidy profit on slaves that would otherwise be discarded. Slaves that could cause you to operate at a loss. Please contact me at your earliest convenience. Any information you can provide on the cost of these slaves would be most helpful. I hope, soon, that we can settle on price so that I can perhaps discuss these matters with you in person, at the nearest Undermarket location, and browse your wares.

You do great service to the Horde, Modas il Toralar. Aka'Magosh!

- Drakehide, son of Mok'Rukh

Written in neat, slightly slanted lettering on crisp white parchment.


Drakehide, Son of Mok'Rukh,


At the risk of offending you, and I sincerely hope that this does not occur, I must say that it is clear that you are unfamiliar with transactions of this nature. For future reference, it is unnecessary to explain your purposes for purchasing any of our slave product, or indeed any product from the Undermarket. At the Modas il Toralar, we respect our customer's need for privacy.


Straight to business - as you are willing to purchase slave product that is considered to be physically defective, I believe that we can come to a generous agreement. Typically, for healthy night elves or humans and of course depending on their physical state, prices often start at 20, 000 gold per head. Unfortunately, we recently disposed of a collection of elderly humans which may have been of interest to you. Currently, we have a night elf female who seems to be suffering from mental illness. We would be willing to sell her for 12, 500 gold. Naturally, it is expected that some haggling will take place. We can do this in person as you inspect the product, if you wish.


Have a wonderful day,
Fernand Argustus
Department of Horde Relations
Modas il Toralar

(( Post script: We won't actually charge you real gold! So please don't worry about prices from an OOC perspective :P ))

((No worries! 12,500g is still quite a bit, even with that being said, for Drake to gather up. He's gonna have to think of something pretty drastic to round up that much gold...cuz he's not supposed to be an especially rich character. xD Will try and have a response written tonight, since I'm off work early...is anyone from Modas going to be around tomorrow during the morning or afternoon for some potential "in-person haggling?"))

(( I'll try to be around. ))

Drakehide frowned at the first few lines of the response, as he reviewed the response he had received. The lights inside Mok'Rukh's home, in the Northern Barrens, were few and dim. They were running out of candles and lantern oil, thanks to just how often recently Drakehide had been up late, seated at the table, toiling away at parchment, scrolls, research, messages, and code.

The warrior was most grateful that his adoptive father, Mok'Rukh, had not asked questions. For...truly, Drakehide did not know what his father would think, if he knew the complete truth behind Drakehide's current work. Mok'Rukh was a shaman, but had been a great and formidable warrior in his day. Would the old orc understand why Drakehide was doing these things? Would the orc, his father in all but blood, understand the deeper meaning behind Drakehide's current pursuits, or would he only see treason?

He could hear Mok'Rukh snoring, the orc snoozing next to his wife, in one of the adjoining rooms. Their chamber was separated from the kitchen and common area only by a hanging blanket of hide. Drakehide was making his best effort to keep his work quiet, so that the two of them could continue to sleep.

He had been clumsy. His previous message to Argustus had clearly been...more than enough information. In fact, now he'd gone and made himself appear inexperienced in these matters, which...could raise flags, or suspicion, among any at Modas who did not take him at his word. It was important that he follow through, now, keep his actions consistent, and meet with them soon to -

Twelve-thousand five hundred?

Twelve-thousand five hundred!

TWELVE-THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED?!?

"Twelve-thousand five hundred..." Drakehide whispered, the world spinning around him as he reviewed the response, paying closer attention to the details.

And it only got worse. Modas was already in the full swing of executing prisoners, as noted by the elderly humans they'd recently "disposed of". Worse still, the slave that would run 12,500 was "mentally damaged". Which meant...that Drakehide's efforts might be completely for nothing. He might spend 12,500 gold now only to purchase a slave who could provide no information on the storage facility's whereabouts, or on Modas' operation in general.

Damn, damn, damn...by Rukh's axe, where was he going to come up with 12,500 gold...?

He had to meet with Keedriel. And Akira. And Tyrynna. This was going too far. Akira would be rolling his eyes when he heard of this, Keedriel would be inclined to charge in, blades swinging in every direction at the nearest Modasite he could find, and Tyrynna would probably be furious. They would need to meet, and come up with a plan, and determine the best way to proceed from -

No...no. There would be no meeting. Drakehide had drawn the short straw. Well, lost the coin toss, if one wanted to be technical about it. He would continue. This changed nothing. He would acquire the 12,500 gold, acquire the slave, and acquire the intelligence they needed before proceeding any further. Sons of Rukh did not falter, did not surrender. They CONQUERED!

And they would continue to conquer. In the morning. It was far too late for this nonsense right now.

Drakehide put the light out, and retired for the evening, his mind racing as he tried to figure out where he was going to round up 12,500 gold.

*a note sent to the Modas*

Hello, creatures.

I require 10 healthy dwarf-things of any sex or demeanor for fermentaion purposes and experimentation. Their livers must, and we reiterate, must be in workable function. Please also ensure that they are free of the Earthmother's spies, as She has taken to randomly attacking me at odd moments. Hobbling is not neccessary. We will pay the going rate, plus any transport fees required. If you could throw in some skinned worgen flesh, that would be nice.

Yours in Atrocity,
Abominus the Maggot Lord of the Shu'halo
Defiler of the Great Anvil of Ironforge
Stainer of the Altar Cloth of Stormwind Cathedral
Horde Combat Barber

PS: Could you ask Doctor Wolfe to make us 245,568,809 aviator goggles and scarves for our maggots. We are making an airforce.


* The note is covered in ichor, and the edges are greenish and growing *

Written in a neat, slightly slanted script, on crisp white parchment.


Dear Abominus,


I daresay that we can accomodate your initial request. While we do have a collection of adult dwarves at the moment, I cannot guarantee the state of their livers beyond saying that they do not appear to be suffering from jaundice. This would suggest that their livers are functioning, but of course, one cannot be absolutely certain unless they were to remove the organ, which would defeat the entire purpose of having a healthy dwarf. As per your request for aviator goggles and scarves, I promise that I will discuss this with the good Doctor, however I cannot make any further assurances at this point in time. Naturally, as a member of our fine Order's long time and upstanding ally, the Grim Maw Clan, you will of course receive a 15% discount on all purchases made from the Undermarket. I do hope that you find this satisfactory.


Order through atrocity, peace through fear, faith in the Modas il Toralar.


Have a splendid day,
Fernand Argustus
Department of Horde Relations
Modas il Toralar

Drakehide paced nervously through Mok'Rukh's kitchen. He still had to send a reply to Argustus, with haste, but he was still waiting on word. From the sound of it...the proposal he had forwarded to clear out the Deadmines, the one that would gain him the 12,500 gold he sought after, had hardly been given a glance. If that was true, then...Drakehide really and truly would be on his own, in all of this.

If the Alliance did not have the honor to foot the cost of the slave's freedom (which Drakehide suspected strongly - after all, with perhaps the exception of the Kal'Dorei, he had found the Alliance's honor greatly lacking in the past) then he would do it himself. He would find a way.

He would give the Alliance 24 hours longer. If, by this time tomorrow, no contact had been made, no message had been sent, and no agreement could be even discussed...well, then he was going to have to make a deal with the real devils for all of that gold, and for the night elf slave.

A deal that would put a potentially catastrophic level of weapons, armaments, and siege vehicles right into the waiting hands of the Modas il Toralar.

((IC, Drake hasn't forgotten about this! ^^ He's just working towards getting that 12,500 gold he needs. Will have a reply to Argustus or Modas in general as soon as possible.))

((EDIT: ZEE GOLD! EET EEZ SECURE! Expect a reply from Drake in the next little while on that subject. ^^ On my lunch break @ work right now so I don't have the time to make a proper post. PS, misters Nukenson and Boughstrider, you are my heroes. ^^))

He couldn't believe it.

Drakehide had been staring at the massive pile of gold on the table, now, for at least an hour, in complete silence. Once again, the lights were dimmed, and Mok'Rukh and the matron were already asleep, but Drakehide was still awake and very aware, counting out the gold, piece by piece, making certain that what he'd received was the agreed-upon amount, and that it would be enough.

12,500 gold, right down to the last piece.

Had he misjudged the Alliance? He had been so certain that they would neglect to reply to his original proposal, or that they would sent back a scathing, biting response. Despite Drakehide's recently-cultivated, grudging respect for the Kal'Dorei, he found the rest of the Alliance...dwarves, humans, and the midget-folk specifically...to be cowardly. Spineless. Dishonorable in the worst possible sense of the word. They had never shown themselves to be worth his respect.

Now, he had the gold in front of him, and he was baffled by it.

The gold, though, Drakehide did not completely attribute to the Alliance itself. In fact, the only reason that Drakehide believed the gold was here, in front of him, was because of the efforts of Keedriel Boughstrider, a close friend. It was Keedriel who had delivered the proposal to the Alliance, and Keedriel who had done all of the leg work on this. Without Keedriel...this plan, this ploy, all of it would likely have fallen apart by now. Or...if it had continued, Drakehide would have needed to resort to far more drastic measures to obtain the gold. Keedriel's assistance had made all the difference.

All that Drakehide needed to do now gather the necessary intelligence, as he'd agreed to for a certain Jack Nukenson. Drakehide also felt a certain debt of gratitude towards Nukenson, though that debt came with a certain amount of distrust. Nukenson had provided the gold, but Drakehide did not trust humans as a rule, and was not certain what to expect of this one.

He would worry about Nukenson later. For now, he needed to contact Modas as soon as possible, to make sure that they hadn't..."liquidated"...the night elf slave that he was in negotiations for.

And so he wrote.

To the Modas il Toralar,
Attn. Fernand Argustus,

I am not offended - after all, you are correct. It is rarely that I indulge in the purchase of a slave, and so perhaps my previous letter included more detail than was necessary, or welcome. I thus hope, Argustus, that my letter did not offend you. Your respect for my privacy is most appreciated.

After reading your response and considering your offer, I think as well that it would be wise if we could meet in person. I look forward to inspecting the product in question, and negotiating the price, at the first available, convenient opportunity for you.

Aka'Magosh - spirits go with you.

- Drakehide, son of Mok'Rukh

He dropped the letter into a mailbox at the Crossroads, the following morning. With any luck...the slave would still be alive. And, soon, he would have an opportunity to meet with Argustus, and inspect her.

The warrior hoped, deep down, that she would be in sufficient condition to provide the intelligence that he and his conspirators were looking for. Because...if she wasn't...and if this plan failed...

No. Failure was not an option. Not this time. This would work...it had to work.

(( Hi Drake! I have seen this, and will hopefully be around online this weekend for the arpees. ))

((Awesome! I'll try and be around this weekend as well. ^^ Haven't been on much lately due to work schedule.))