World of Warcraft®

A note is surreptitiously posted in several black market hubs:

[2,000 gold will be paid to the party able to procure for me a troll child of sufficient arcane aptitude. Payment pending inspection of product on delivery. Name brand (IE: Amani) not required. Contact Kiloaeda.]

((OOC Translation:

Looking for a player interested in RP to roll a troll mage. You'll get:

A mage character 'trained' up to level 85

An invitation to a level 25 guild with all the perks a level 25 guild has to offer

A central role in an RP plot

An opportunity to make new... friends? For lack of a better word.

A 2000 gold donation to the dastardly person(s) of your choosing who sold you to a deathknight

gold donation after 20th level

All this and more in the context of an RP plot!

I'll get one ironic step closer to 'stay classy' for my guild.))

A letter is sent to Kiloaeda.

Dear Mr. Slaver,

I regret to inform you slavery is only permitted when it comes to gladiatorial fights, and even then restricted to Alliance races or traitors and criminals. You may, however, be able to convince the guards to send the next thief captured your way, if he happens to be a troll.

Sincerely,

A concerned bloke.

p.s. You should probably do that quick, apparently Thrall kind of wants to do things worse than death to slavers, and I am sure he will return to his seat as Warchief soon enough.

Dear 'Concerned Bloke',

Undoubtedly you are one of those more devout DEHTA members that can't understand that kept animals are treated with the utmost beneficence to the mutual benefit of creature and owner. Certainly, no rational being would call these creatures 'slaves', and as I am not seeking to procure one for myself through more direct channels, you unjustly call me 'slaver'. Though I have always supported your cause to abolish poaching in Northrend and thus consider us allies, the merchandise I'm buying is a mere troll and I will not suffer slander even on behalf of our friendship.

In any case, you misapprehend the intent of my purchase. As you can possibly imagine, I have no purpose in mind for this thing (or I would have chosen a more purposeful sort of creature) but instead I have been encouraged by my peers to attempt a sort of experiment in which I will overcome the nature of the thing, transforming it into what will ostensibly be a person; a person capable of right thought, right action, right speech, and with any luck proficient in the arcane arts (to the extent a troll can be said to be proficient in such things).

As for these nebulous restrictions you claim exist, who restricts me? Garrosh? Such an oaf as Garrosh can only be relied on to--scarcely--maintain a single trail of thought, and he (typical orc) can only think of war. He has no time to enforce domestic law (and given that the treatment of my pupil will be far superior to the way he relegates the trolls of Ogrimmar to slums and orders his agents to purloin their rations, he would have no grounds for complaint).

Thrall you call out by name, and he might intervene I admit. However, if my greatest risk is the chance that he ever has enough time to spare from saving the world to save one troll, I'm fine taking my chances.

I take your concerns as a kindness. I'm not buying kindness, I'm buying a troll. If you're selling a troll, let's do business. Otherwise, kind soul, kindly mind your own business.

-K

p.s. If you intend to continue frequenting the sorts of places in which you found my requisition request, you should probably keep opinions like that quiet.

THe orc scowled, having been on the black market to procure an itch relief for a client wishing to be subtle, he tore down the notice. "S'not right." He spit on the ground. "Damn haughty elves need the sticks taken out of there !@#." He growled in displeasure, crumpling it up. "Won't tolerate another race taking a horde member as a slave, or treating them as less than a person."

Kiloaeda checked in with the hub for replies to his post only to find the note missing with no reply posted.

"So, DEHTA, it has come to this. Petty tricks? Two can play at that!"

Producing ink and parchment, Kiloaeda quickly drew up a Scroll of Recall, folding it carefully and reprinting his ad on the reverse side. Such scrolls contain a suitable degree of magic to conduct any scribe of modest ability safely to their destination, but this particular scroll was dangerously low on the magics relating to safety and the note was pinned in such a way that anyone tampering with it to the degree necessary to remove it from the wall it was secured to would trigger the effect inadvertently without time to make the necessary arcane adjustments to temper the effect. Thus, miscreants would be flung unceremoniously to someplace they certainly wouldn't want to go. Or possibly explode.

Kilo wondered for a moment whether a potential seller might try to take the note for one reason or another and as an afterthought added "Do not tamper with this note" in unfriendly lettering at the bottom.

Edi hissed, flattening out her ears as she eyed the note. "Idiot!" She seethed. "It takes one moron with no sense to ruin all of us!" She grabbed for the note, ripping it off the wall...

And promptly vanished with a small pop.

Kiloaeda sighed and muttered darkly about small-minded troll-loving meddlers. He would have his troll and no one would stand in the way. Notes were clearly a dead end, however. Abandoning that line of thought, Kilo set out traveling.

He walked through the darkest corners of the world speaking softly to the dregs of Azeroth, then donned disguises and retraced his steps, listening for the echoes of his whispers. He repeated this process until his message was spoken clear and true in hushed tones by hunters lodging in Everlook, street gangs in Orgrimmar, ships of pirates passing through Booty Bay, camps of deserters and washouts from the Cults of the Damned and the Twilight, and in prison camps on the fringes of anyplace.

The message was viral now and it could not be torn down:
There was a 2000 gold bounty out there and all you had to do to claim it was pinch some magic troll kid and deliver it alive. Easiest job ever for anyone willing to risk the wrath of a troll tribe, and so many troll tribes were on the ropes from either siding with or defying the Zandalari. There might even be unguarded orphans out there that nobody would miss.

Kiloaeda smiled to himself. He would have his troll.

The first response was from an ogre. Kiloaeda was skeptical from the start, but he agreed to meet the ogre in Mudsprocket. When the ogre arrived at the inn, he carried a large wriggling sack. Aware of the watchful eyes of the Cartel upon them, Kiloaeda led the ogre out into the bog until the town disappeared from view. "Show me." he demanded.

The ogre laughed. "U LIEK DIS 1." He upturned the sack and a bound, gagged goblin with tusklike protrusions attached at odd angles to a helmet that was pressed sloppily onto his head fell out. The goblin started to scream through his gag on spotting the death knight.

Kiloaeda stared for a moment at the goblin before stating "This is a goblin." in a flat tone.

The ogre roared. "IT HAS TUSK FACE SO ITS A TROLL. U PAY NOW."

Kiloaeda shook his head. "No."

The ogre hefted a large club. "SMALL ELF PAY OR I SMASH AND TAEK DA GOLD."

With a sigh, Kiloaeda released the runic power that was sustaining a frost path beneath the feet of the ogre. Instantly there was a popping noise and the ogre plunged through the layer of ice into the muck. He looked down, confused and bellowed "WUT?!" He struggled to free himself, but only started sinking faster. Beside him, the goblin wriggled and shouted unintelligibly through the gag, probably calling for help.

Kiloaeda didn't stick around to watch the two sink into the bog. He walked back to Mudsprocket alone to catch a wind rider.

An envelope addressed to Kiloaeda, with the following note inside.

Dear Kiloaeda,

I believe I may have what you are seeking in recent stock of test subjects I have received. It is a female Troll child who I noted seemed to have an aptitude for the arcane. It would be a waste to use her for experimentation, but I cannot say that I would like her to remain in my presence. I could arrange for you to inspect her if you wish. Please get back to me promptly.

Sincerely,

Lady Thelinna Que’sheth

A small breeze is often liable to carry small, torn scraps of paper. Small breezes are often liable to ignore with wild wanton the black, the white, the green, the sage and the sageless, and wander wherever they please, and such was this breeze - this scrap - on this day.

A short time later, an envelope addressed to Kiloaeda is given over to the AAMS.

Blesséd Kiloaeda,

The hills, the oceans, the wood bear folk of war and thoughts of menace, but your gift to the world is a blessing of life, and perhaps this life you bare shall lift us from darkness.

Know that Elune watches always. May your birthing be only a time of rejoicing.

Lady Shadowsun

(As the letter is opened, a collection of coins spill out)