FLASH
"This is a lot of money," the gnome said, deftly moving a coin between her knuckles.
"I know," the soldier said. The tavern in Old Town was quiet, with only a couple tables in dark corners filled. "Get it done. We don't need a head. We'll know soon enough if you've done your job."
The gnome smiled grimly. "And Va..."
"No," the soldier said, holding up a hand. "The less the King knows, the better. He knows what has to be done, but requires plausible deniability."
The gnome nodded. "Who says politics aren't useful?" He wandered off, intent on the known location of the diplomat who was quietly passing troop movements around the Stockades to Horde functionaries.
FLASH
The draenei stood above the blood elf female, a giant crystalline hammer dripping with blood. His face was grim as he took a knife and sawed off a finger with a glittering red gem set in its ring. He looked over his shoulder and saw a human wizard with a ghastly expression of shock on his face, and merely said, "She got too close to information SI:7 didn't want her to have."
"You could have just rendered her unconscious and handed her over as a POW," the wizard whispered, all his composure stripped by the brutality he'd witnessed.
The draenei hefted the hammer over his shoulder, his cool blue eyes glowing in the dimming light. "The dwarf from the Hinterlands decided it was better handled without involving the authorities." The draenei walked calmly out, turning his head around and saying over his shoulder, "Light preserve us all. You should burn that body with your magic."
FLASH
The worgen spat blood as his Forsaken captors continued brutally beating him. Finally, a night elf wandered in, her eyes wide with eager anticipation, a tattered symbol of Darnassus showing in spots through the spatters of blood on her tabard. One of the Forsaken looked at her, and her image wavered as she took on her own natural Forsaken shape, rotting flesh revealing cheekbones and joints bared to the air. "A pity you couldn't give us more," she said in a husky, dry voice. "The kal'dorei have found my 'intel' so very useful... as have the forces from the Barrens who were lying in wait for the troops' arrival."
The worgen grinned, his shattered teeth showing jaggedly through his muzzle. "I think what I have to give you now is all you'll really need," as he bit down on a small gnomish device that had been placed in one of his gums.
Outside the encampment in Ashenvale, a troop of night elves watched grimly as the explosion rocked the small building, the fire consuming those within, Forsaken and worgen both. One of the kal'dorei turned to another, who was sitting on a low branch, her bow slung across her back, as a white leopard with glowing blue eyes quietly stretched on a higher branch. "That's it, then?" the elf asked.
"Yes," Shaynarah Shadowfeather responded, lithely hopping down to the ground and extending her hand. "The spy is done. You can tell the Sentinels they won't be losing as many here."
"You understand why Shandr..." the kal'dorei began, but Shaynarah held up her hand to stop him.
"I understand. She leads the Sentinels. She can't be involved in these kinds of operations. But I know she understands something else." She quickly turned, an arrow flying from her bow to pierce the throat of a lone Forsaken who had managed to escape the blast, its skin smoldering and its jerky, slow movements showing incredible pain.
"She understands, as do all the authorities, that there are things the Alliance needs done that sometimes can only be done from the shadows." A giant drake, colored a dark shimmering purple, landed in a nearby clearning as Shaynarah approached it, two of the elves trailing her apprehensively. As she mounted, she said to them, "Pass the word:
The Ebon Sanction will serve the Alliance at all costs."
OOC
The Ebon Sanction is recruiting! Under its new leadership of Shaynarah Shadowfeather (me!), we're looking for those who want to help rebuild the guild from the ground up. We have all the perks of a 25th level guild, we have mats to help your alts level in the guild bank, and we're always looking for new players! We have no level requirements, no race requirements, and only ask that you look to have fun in the game, interact respectably with the rest of the realm, and are eager to learn about role playing.
Our concept is simple: we are the ones who operate in the shadows, taking on the missions too questionable for official Alliance channels to be publicly involved in. While this lends itself to the application of many Warlocks, Death Knights, and Rogues, we welcome the servants of the Holy Light who are willing to get their hands dirty, and welcome any and all who would not blanch at doing "what must be done"!
*cont'd*
"This is a lot of money," the gnome said, deftly moving a coin between her knuckles.
"I know," the soldier said. The tavern in Old Town was quiet, with only a couple tables in dark corners filled. "Get it done. We don't need a head. We'll know soon enough if you've done your job."
The gnome smiled grimly. "And Va..."
"No," the soldier said, holding up a hand. "The less the King knows, the better. He knows what has to be done, but requires plausible deniability."
The gnome nodded. "Who says politics aren't useful?" He wandered off, intent on the known location of the diplomat who was quietly passing troop movements around the Stockades to Horde functionaries.
FLASH
The draenei stood above the blood elf female, a giant crystalline hammer dripping with blood. His face was grim as he took a knife and sawed off a finger with a glittering red gem set in its ring. He looked over his shoulder and saw a human wizard with a ghastly expression of shock on his face, and merely said, "She got too close to information SI:7 didn't want her to have."
"You could have just rendered her unconscious and handed her over as a POW," the wizard whispered, all his composure stripped by the brutality he'd witnessed.
The draenei hefted the hammer over his shoulder, his cool blue eyes glowing in the dimming light. "The dwarf from the Hinterlands decided it was better handled without involving the authorities." The draenei walked calmly out, turning his head around and saying over his shoulder, "Light preserve us all. You should burn that body with your magic."
FLASH
The worgen spat blood as his Forsaken captors continued brutally beating him. Finally, a night elf wandered in, her eyes wide with eager anticipation, a tattered symbol of Darnassus showing in spots through the spatters of blood on her tabard. One of the Forsaken looked at her, and her image wavered as she took on her own natural Forsaken shape, rotting flesh revealing cheekbones and joints bared to the air. "A pity you couldn't give us more," she said in a husky, dry voice. "The kal'dorei have found my 'intel' so very useful... as have the forces from the Barrens who were lying in wait for the troops' arrival."
The worgen grinned, his shattered teeth showing jaggedly through his muzzle. "I think what I have to give you now is all you'll really need," as he bit down on a small gnomish device that had been placed in one of his gums.
Outside the encampment in Ashenvale, a troop of night elves watched grimly as the explosion rocked the small building, the fire consuming those within, Forsaken and worgen both. One of the kal'dorei turned to another, who was sitting on a low branch, her bow slung across her back, as a white leopard with glowing blue eyes quietly stretched on a higher branch. "That's it, then?" the elf asked.
"Yes," Shaynarah Shadowfeather responded, lithely hopping down to the ground and extending her hand. "The spy is done. You can tell the Sentinels they won't be losing as many here."
"You understand why Shandr..." the kal'dorei began, but Shaynarah held up her hand to stop him.
"I understand. She leads the Sentinels. She can't be involved in these kinds of operations. But I know she understands something else." She quickly turned, an arrow flying from her bow to pierce the throat of a lone Forsaken who had managed to escape the blast, its skin smoldering and its jerky, slow movements showing incredible pain.
"She understands, as do all the authorities, that there are things the Alliance needs done that sometimes can only be done from the shadows." A giant drake, colored a dark shimmering purple, landed in a nearby clearning as Shaynarah approached it, two of the elves trailing her apprehensively. As she mounted, she said to them, "Pass the word:
The Ebon Sanction will serve the Alliance at all costs."
OOC
The Ebon Sanction is recruiting! Under its new leadership of Shaynarah Shadowfeather (me!), we're looking for those who want to help rebuild the guild from the ground up. We have all the perks of a 25th level guild, we have mats to help your alts level in the guild bank, and we're always looking for new players! We have no level requirements, no race requirements, and only ask that you look to have fun in the game, interact respectably with the rest of the realm, and are eager to learn about role playing.
Our concept is simple: we are the ones who operate in the shadows, taking on the missions too questionable for official Alliance channels to be publicly involved in. While this lends itself to the application of many Warlocks, Death Knights, and Rogues, we welcome the servants of the Holy Light who are willing to get their hands dirty, and welcome any and all who would not blanch at doing "what must be done"!
*cont'd*
Edited by Shaynarah on 7/3/2013 12:33 PM PDT
