Silent as a ghost, he entered Tarren Mill, looking through the laboratory. The bastard had been thorough in his clearing out of the place, but not thorough enough. Left in a giant bubbling tank of goo was a desiccated draenei corpse, pierced with multiple gunshot wounds. Leaning against the wall next to that tank was a staff, its head carved like that of a talbuk. Just as he had been told.
Now for the second part of his assignment. He pulled a bomb made with explosive alchemical formulae from his pouch, set the timer for thirty seconds, and set it underneath the tank. "Fates take ya to your rest, old goat," he muttered as he took the staff and made his way out.
As he made his way out the gates and down the Alterac Road, the bomb exploded, vaporizing the draenei's corpse and destroying half of the laboratory. As he made his way back down to the King's Road and headed towards the Arathi Highlands, he smiled to himself as the Forsaken began shouting for fire-buckets. They would suspect nothing; they would think it was an alchemical accident. He made sure of that.
As he arrived in Arathi, he headed to one of the circles of stones in that region, where his clients were waiting. One had been one of his boys, a member of his operation; he had requested the staff. The other was a tall human in glistening white-gold armor with yellow-gold trim, holding a massive battleaxe; he had requested the second part.
"Is it done, Master Kitrik?" the human asked.
Kitrik the Assassin nodded, a highly satisfied smirk on his face. "It is done, Lord Saavedro."
"Excellent." Saavedro of Stratholme pulled a pouch of coins and tossed it to him. "The other half of your payment, as agreed." He nodded to the other, standing next to him, who merely held out his hands. Kitrik nodded and handed over the staff. "It seemed the Forsaken were not done with him?"
"Nope, looked like they were saving him for some purpose. Looked like hell." The goblin Assassin shuddered.
"Well, they did put about a dozen bullets in him." Saavedro's jaw clenched. He turned to the other goblin. "Are you satisfied, Farseer Spiritgrinder?"
Smeet Spiritgrinder held the staff in his hands for a long period of silence. "For the moment," he said at last. "I am in accord with you, Lord Saavedro. I do not think this is quite over."
Kitrik raised an eyebrow. "Ain't he fish food off the coast of Gilneas?"
"No one has definitively seen his body," the paladin replied. "Genevra and Zherron be damned - I am not taking chances." Smeet was nodding in agreement.
The goblin shrugged. "It's your money, waste it how you wish."
Saavedro smiled coldly. "You will find that our money - and our time - is not as wasted as you think, assassin..."
Now for the second part of his assignment. He pulled a bomb made with explosive alchemical formulae from his pouch, set the timer for thirty seconds, and set it underneath the tank. "Fates take ya to your rest, old goat," he muttered as he took the staff and made his way out.
As he made his way out the gates and down the Alterac Road, the bomb exploded, vaporizing the draenei's corpse and destroying half of the laboratory. As he made his way back down to the King's Road and headed towards the Arathi Highlands, he smiled to himself as the Forsaken began shouting for fire-buckets. They would suspect nothing; they would think it was an alchemical accident. He made sure of that.
As he arrived in Arathi, he headed to one of the circles of stones in that region, where his clients were waiting. One had been one of his boys, a member of his operation; he had requested the staff. The other was a tall human in glistening white-gold armor with yellow-gold trim, holding a massive battleaxe; he had requested the second part.
"Is it done, Master Kitrik?" the human asked.
Kitrik the Assassin nodded, a highly satisfied smirk on his face. "It is done, Lord Saavedro."
"Excellent." Saavedro of Stratholme pulled a pouch of coins and tossed it to him. "The other half of your payment, as agreed." He nodded to the other, standing next to him, who merely held out his hands. Kitrik nodded and handed over the staff. "It seemed the Forsaken were not done with him?"
"Nope, looked like they were saving him for some purpose. Looked like hell." The goblin Assassin shuddered.
"Well, they did put about a dozen bullets in him." Saavedro's jaw clenched. He turned to the other goblin. "Are you satisfied, Farseer Spiritgrinder?"
Smeet Spiritgrinder held the staff in his hands for a long period of silence. "For the moment," he said at last. "I am in accord with you, Lord Saavedro. I do not think this is quite over."
Kitrik raised an eyebrow. "Ain't he fish food off the coast of Gilneas?"
"No one has definitively seen his body," the paladin replied. "Genevra and Zherron be damned - I am not taking chances." Smeet was nodding in agreement.
The goblin shrugged. "It's your money, waste it how you wish."
Saavedro smiled coldly. "You will find that our money - and our time - is not as wasted as you think, assassin..."
