World of Warcraft®

The flight back to Booty Bay from Hardwrench had never been longer. Kezrin raced along the boardwalk, wishing she could run faster.

Not that getting to the office a few minutes sooner was likely to change anything. But her hearthstone was on the fritz again (it probably had nothing to do with the way she'd dropped it in surprise earlier) and she wanted to be where she could hear the latest news from Orgrimmar.

It had been a relatively peaceful evening at Lounge Night, until the sudden announcement over the guildstone warning any courier en route to Orgrimmar to turn away. They'd been tipped off that the Kor'kron were about to raid the Orgimmar office. Dorgot was helping Tula and most of the staffers leave the city, but no one knew what had happened to Arrayah.

The Horde Branch Manager had gone back to the office, but whether she made it out before the Kor'kron arrived…

The Booty Bay office had to have heard about the Kor'kron raid at this point. Sure enough, the office was buzzing with talk. She immediately headed upstairs to Derscha's office, ignoring the twenty-eight questions that were asked before she'd finished crossing the room. Derscha would know what was going on.

The office was empty.

Well. Emptier than usual.

The desk was gone, as was normal, but so was Derscha.

"Bossgnome?" she called out to the empty room on the off chance the gnome was hiding behind the potted plant.

Derscha wasn't gone, too, was she? She was not equipped to deal with BOTH managers missing-

"Over here, Miss Kanzelry," Derscha's voice called out from the office next door.

The goblin poked her head into Arrayah Greyson's office. Derscha was seated in Arrayah's chair, her hat resting on the corner of the desk. A peculiar looking communication stone sat silently before her.

"Err… have ya heard from her yet?"

Derscha shook her head. "No."

"I, uh, already sent word ta Ratchet to let 'em know to expect Dorgot ta be bringin' everyone there."

"Good decision."

"So… what now?"

"If Arrayah's safe, she'll let us know soon enough. She's surprised me before." Derscha sighed and tapped a paper on the desk. "Go get some rest. We'll know more in the morning."

A notice is sent out the next morning.

A General Notice to AAMS Clientele

As of this notice, the Anytime, Anywhere Messenger Service will be unable to honor any deliveries to or from the city of Orgrimmar. Due to irreconcilable differences with the local powers at large, the AAMS has been forced to close its Orgrimmar office and reroute its couriers elsewhere.

This closure may cause delays in current pending deliveries. Any deliveries unable to be completed will be returned with a full refund and our sincere apologies. We do not at this time anticipate delays in deliveries to areas outside of Orgrimmar and in the control of the Horde.

The AAMS has always been dedicated to the service of our clients “anywhere,” and we will continue to operate wherever the right to free communication is acknowledged and the personal safety of our personnel is not put to grievous risk. In the past, we have been willing to deliver to strange worlds beyond unknown portals, the icy northern battle front on the steps of the Icecrown Citadel, and have even sent couriers to the elemental planes to deliver urgent messages and supplies in times of need. We will continue to serve our loyal clients in contested territories or on the battlefield, whether that field is against the scourge, the saurok, or an enemy closer to home.

Services to Orgrimmar will resume when the city is no longer under the influence of those who have banned free communication and has opened its gates for the return of all members of the Horde.

Thank you once again for your support of the AAMS.

Sincerely,

Derscha Kettlebomb
AAMS CEO

Gezelda read the notice and clicked her tongue. "Well, there go my Dalaran cheese shipments!"

"This is NOT from Derscha!" Spriggel yelled.

Not only the AAMS Ironforge staff but everyone else in the Visitor's Center/AAMS office and a few people out in the nearby Commons were startled by the outburst. Thrashing the notice around in the air above her hair to emphasize each and every syllable, she continued: "It's a forgery, a fel good one at that! It even SOUNDS like her."

"But Derscha would NEVER ever ever," Spriggel's voice began to fail at this point, ending on a plaintive whimper by sentence end, "keep this service from going Anywhere we're called."

Turning away, she angrily wiped a tear from her eye, and trying to smile around her scowl, she turned back to address the appalled staff.

"Trundletoe," she tilted her head at her dwarfen assistant, "please go down to Booty Bay and get confirmation from the head office that this is a forgery. As quick as you can, please. And Dwindul, you take the tram down to Stormwind - see what the office there is doing about this and if they've heard any REAL official word. And both of you," Spriggel swallowed around the lump in her throat, took a deep breath and continued, "get back here as fast as you can."

Glancing around the gathered staff to be sure she had everyone's attention, she tugged her AAMS tabard straight and affirmed to them, "Until then, it's business as usual."

----------------

She wept unconsolably when she heard that this was official.

"No deliveries to Orgrimmar, mon?"

The troll sitting across from Andelia was big, lanky, and blue-haired, with a crested mohawk and a bone in his nose. Like many of the Darkspear rebels gathered in Razor Hill, he seemed to be deliberately styling himself as a tribal savage, in a visible rejection of conformity with the Horde.

Andelia made a small, placating gesture, one palm turned down as if patting a small child's head.

"Official deliveries," she promised. "I know there are people inside the city you're waiting to hear from. We'll get in and out. Quietly."

The elf glanced around the small room and nodded with satisfaction. Her portable lap desk and a few scrounged candles were rapidly turning an outbuilding of Razor Hill's central tower into a proper field office.

Rebellions, after all, needed good -- and discreet -- communications.

Jonathan sat back in his chair, relaxing with a mug of Lordaeron Lambic (one of the few drinks he enjoyed that didn't set other peoples' mouths on fire; Sulfuron Slammers were another favorite, hard as they were to get a hold of) in the Blue Recluse. He'd been ecstatic when he found out they'd managed to start carrying it.

Of course, since he had finally managed to relax, that was naturally when that familiar noise sounded, meaning someone was trying to reach him. He pulled out the hearthstone. Every once in a while he still marvelled at the fact that they had managed to take an enchanted stone designed to teleport one to a set location, and get it to double as a communication device. Take that, science.

"Jon?" Kordrion's voice drifted out of the stone. Wasn't he on a Honeymoon, or anniversary or something? The idea of him and Ketlan with a son was still startling, even if he had been aware, on some level, of the pregnancy for some time. He responded with a quick 'yeah', wondering what had come up that he would need to talk to Jon while on vacation, or whatever it was he was doing at the moment.

"What are you doing for the next oh... week or two?" Jon raised an eyebrow, half-forgetting that the stone was not a visual means of communication. Uh oh.

"Uhh, nothing in particular aside from the front-line stuff. Maybe heading to attend one or two things with a friend?" He hadn't heard anything back from the Paladin yet about his issue with that Death Knight rival (or whatever was going on there; he'd offered to help and still hoped to be able to), and who knows when Suni would go to introduce her friend to Lili.

"Anything that can't be put off?"

Oh boy. Here we go. "Well, I don't know when it'll happen, but it's more a case of 'be there when she does this thing with other people'." He decided to leave out the bit with the Paladin's issues with the Death knight.

"Good. I need you to go with a few other of our more shadow stalking types to speak with Derscha. They lost the Orgrimmar office and one of theirs was left behind, need to find out what happened to her." Jonathan blinked, and stared at the stone. They what?

"They lost they Orgrimmar office?" Jonathan wanted to be surprised. He really did. It was the AAMS. Anytime, anywhere. Except Orgrimmar, apparently. Garrosh was Garrosh, though. In reality, he found himself more surprised that they'd kept it open as long as they had. "...I can't say I'm surprised, but I can handle that." It wouldn't be the first time he'd crept into the heart of enemy territory. He finished his drink and made his way out of the Blue Recluse, headed back home.

"Excellent, I've advised her that a meeting in Booty Bay would be unadviseable so I am leaving it up to you to discuss where to meet her." Jonathan bit down a laugh. Figures, discussing details with the other party before consulting him on it at all. Oh well, no harm done. Considering where the AAMS headquarters were though, he did appreciate him mentioning that little detail.

"Thanks. Really, anywhere that isn't in Steamwheedle or Horde territory works." This was a big deal, after all. The Anytime Anywhere was no longer "Anywhere". All because of Garrosh. He'd have to get in touch with Derscha soon.

The uniform was eschewed today, as Derscha wandered the paths of the Mage Quarter in Stormwind. She'd grown used to the uniform, though not fond of it, but today was not technically official AAMS business. So the gnome wore a much more sensible black and white ensemble with green accents, with a smaller, less flamboyant black hat to match.

One of the small courtyards housed a well and a few stone benches. She'd often used the spot for some quiet moments in the city, or for meeting interviewees. It was nearly as empty today as she usually found it, except for the human male with his back turned to her, sitting quietly on one of the benches. The occupant didn't deter her from approaching.

"Hey, Derscha," he spoke.

Jon Harmarth of Terra Incognita turned in his bench to greet her properly. She nodded in return, briefly touching her fingers to the brim of her hat.

"Thank you for coming to meet me."

"I hear there's someone missing," he said simply.

She let out a long, slow breath, shoulders drooping. "Aye. You've heard we've had to close our Orgrimmar offices, perhaps?"

"I actually only heard about it when I was told about this issue here. Problems with Garrosh?"

"Hardly a surprise, isn't it." It was not a question, despite the wording.

"More a surprise he let you stay open this long."

She didn't answer at first, turning away from Harmarth to climb onto one of the benches; one day she ought to sponsor making some gnomish sized ones. "We had been doing out very best to stay low key in the city, moving most of our business to Ratchet," she explained. "But with the recent activity in the Barrens, it must have moved us back on the visibility list."

"And now the office is lost, and someone missing. Did the office get raided or something, or just closed down?"

"It was a raid. Fortunately, we'd been tipped off they were on their way. We had some help getting the staff to safety, but my Horde Manager, Arrayah Greyson, stayed behind at the office..." she shook her head. "We haven't heard from her since."

"So you think she's been arrested by the Kor'Kron?"

"That's a strong possibility. At least that would mean she's alive." She paused, giving a small, strained smile. "Well. As alive as Forsaken normally are."

Harmarth shrugged the comment off. "I've got no problem with individual Forsaken. It's the ones that follow Sylvanas a bit too closely I take objection to."

"I would very much like to know what's happened to her, whether she left the city, is under lockup, or... otherwise."

"Aside from checking the office itself, you have any other information that might help us find her?"

"Well, she doesn't exactly have much family outside of the AAMS. She's from Southshore- previously, that is- so she's familiar with the Hillsbrad area."

Harmarth made no notes, but she was sure that he would recall everything. "Do you think she might have fled back out toward that area?"

Derscha shook her head again. "I've thought about it, but at the same time, if she were able to get that far, why not contact us?

"Well, we shouldn't leave out any possibilities."

Derscha patted a few pockets... and then a few more... before pulling out a set of keys large enough that they should have theoretically been difficult to misplace. "Oh! This would probably help if you go to Orgrimmar."

"Keys to the office, I presume?"

Derscha held up one of the keys. "This one's the key to the office. Probably won't need that, after the Kor'kron let themselves in. These two are the safe and the storage room. The rest of these are the keys to the desk." She nodded very seriously.

"Desk?" There was a pause. "As in one? How many drawers does that thing have?"

"Three, that are obvious. A few hidden ones. And then there's the bolts holding it to the floor. We've taken to custom building our desks and enhancing their security ever since... well, since mine went missing." Spriggel was fortunate she was not there to see Derscha's glower. "And is still missing."

Another long pause.

"…What."

Derscha didn't quite giggle. "Have you ever meet Spriggel Lockbolten? We've yet to find a lock that can stop her from stealing someone's favorite pen."

"Sounds like SI:7 would love her. But we're getting off topic, sorry. Is there anything else you can tell us that might help find what happened to Arrayah?"

"Well! I suppose I ought to offer an description." She could not remember if Harmarth had met the Horde Manager. "Undead. Tall, but not by human standards. Hair used to be black, now it's tinged rather purple. Pale skin, but well preserved. She wasn't dead very long."

He nodded. "I think to get much more we'll need to start looking around, see what we can find."

"Some of the maintenance crew in Orgrimmar are friendly with us- particuarly an orc named Dorgot, if you need assistance."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Thank you again for looking into this. When you find out something- well, not like it's difficult to send me a message." She offered the set of keys to him, and the rogue accepted them with another nod.

"Trust me, I'll be in touch as soon as I find anything helpful." He stood from his bench with a polite farewell. Derscha tipped her hat one more time as he left.

If Arrayah couldn't reach the AAMS… well, Derscha would just have to reach her.

((...Imma still put up Jon's side a bit later today <.<;))

((I would love to see it! I just already had that written up for the thread we're maintaining on our guild forums anyway ^.^))

Jonathan took a seat on one of the benches by the well in the Mage District. That was where he'd agreed to meet up with Derscha, along with the others who'd be going on the same mission, but he'd been chosen as the speaker for the group. He had no idea why.

He looked out at the passage just a short distance away, overlooking what had once been the Park. They would probably never be able to properly rebuild the area, with the ground beneath where it had once been blasted into the sea. Every once in a while, guards on patrol would still walk out onto the small terrace overlooking the wreckage and shed a tear.

Jonathan perked up at the sound of footsteps in the grass behind him. With the wind blowing at his back, he would have detected the scent of their approach long before now, but he remained in human form, relishing the chance after having been trapped so long in Worgen form; not that most people were aware of it. "Hey, Derscha." He said, turning to face the gnome.

Derscha Kettlebomb, the head of the Anytime, Anywhere Messenger Service nodded and briefly touched her fingers to the brim of her hat. "Thank you for coming to meet me." She said, making her way over to the benches.

Jon nodded back. "I hear there's someone missing." No sense in delaying with small talk.

Derscha took a long, slow breath, her shoulders dropping as she took a seat. "Aye. You've heard we've had to close down our Orgrimmar office, perhaps?"

Jonathan nodded. "I heard about it, but only when I was being told about this issue here. Problems with Garrosh, I take it?" He knew the answer already, but he figured there was no harm in getting confirmation.

"Hardly a surprise, isn't it?"

"More a surprise he let you stay open this long."

"We had been doing our very best to stay low key in the city, moving most of our business to Ratchet. But with the recent activity in the Barrens, it must have moved us back on the visibility list." She let out a low sigh. This really was hitting her hard. They really prided themselves on the whole "anywhere" thing, and being deprived of that, not to mention the missing person, was probably hitting all of them hard.

"And now the office is lost, and someone missing. Did the office get raided or something, or just closed down?" Much as he sympathized, it was time to start squeezing her for information. Gently, of course, she was such a nice person. If he was going to find this person, he needed every detail.

"It was a raid. Fortunately, we'd been tipped off they were on their way. We had some help getting rid of the staff to safety, but my Horde Manager, Arrayah Grayson, stayed behind at the office..." She shook her head sadly. "We haven't heard from her since."

"So you think she's been arrested by the Kor'kron." Leaving out the other obvious possibility in such a situation was just common courtesy at this point.

"That's a strong possibility. At least that would mean she's alive. Well... as alive as Forsaken normally are." So, she was Forsaken, then. Always good to narrow down the details of who you're looking for.

He shrugged off the comment. "I've got no problem with individual Forsaken. It's the ones that follow Sylvanas a bit too closely I take objection to. But we'll find her. No doubt about that." Considering the general opinion of Forsaken, Jon felt the need to reassure her that yes, he was still willing to help find her even though she was Forsaken. Hell, if that was a problem, he'd certainly have another estranged family member or two to deal with. No, it was only the crazies that made it onto his list.

"I would very much like to know what's happened to her, whether she left the city, is under lockup, or... otherwise." Jon couldn't help but identify the emphasis in the statement. Only a complete imbecile would question why, but she was clearly putting her hopes with the first option.

Jon spared a glance at the others present that would be joining for the mission. All were accomplished in the ways of stealth, and he found himself slightly embarassed that in his conversation, he'd almost forgotten they were even present. "Aside from checking the office itself, do you have any other information that might help us find her?"

"Well, she doesn't exactly have much family outside of the AAMS. She's from Southshore- previously, that is- so she's familiar with the Hillsbrad area." Derscha was grasping perhaps, but anything could potentially help.

"Do you think she might have fled back out toward that area?"

Derscha shook her head again. "I've thought about it, but at the same time, if she were able to get that far, why not contact us?"

Jon could think of a few reasons, but he kept them to himself. "Well, we shouldn't leave out any possibilities."

Dershca began to pat a few pockets, and then a few more, before pulling out a set of keys large enough that they should theoretically be difficulty to misplace. Jon raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. "Oh! This would probably help if you go to Orgirmmar."

"Keys to the office, I presume?"

She held up one of the keys on the chain. "This one's the key to the office. Probably won't need that, after the Kor'kron let themselves in. These two are to the safe and the storage room. The rest of these are the keys to the desk."

Jon couldn't help but hook onto that last word. "Desk? As in one? How many drawers does that thing have?" He boggled at the idea of a single desk needing that many keys.

If she had to do a mental check, Jon couldn't tell. "Three, that are obvious. A few hidden ones. And then there's the bolts holding it to the floor. We've taken to custom building our desks and enhancing their security ever since... well, since mine went missing. ...And is still missing." She proceeded to glare at someone that Jonathan could only assume was not present.

"...What."

"Have you ever met Spriggel Lockbolten? We've yet to find a lock that can stop her from stealing someone's favorite pen."

Jon allowed himself a chuckle at that. "Sounds like SI:7 would love her. But we're getting off topic, sorry. Is there anything else you can tell us that might help find what happened to Arrayah?"

Derscha straighted up. "Well! I suppose I ought to offer a description. Dead." Jonathan fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Tall, but not by human standards." And again. "Hair used to be black, now it's tinged rather purple. Pale skin, but well preserved. She wasn't dead very long." Now see, that detail would actually be helpful.

"I think to get much more we'll need to start looking around, see what we can find." There was only so much he could ask of the poor woman. Bad enough she was having to deal with the chaos that Garrosh's action would cause with internal affairs in the AAMS, he hoped to take as much of this off her shoulders as he could.

"Some of the maintenance crew in Orgrimmar are friendly with us - particularly an orc named Dorgot, if you need assistance."

Jon nodded once more. "We'll keep that in mind."

"Thank you again for looking into this. When you find out something- well, not like it's difficult to send me a message." Even though she kept up her cheerful demeanor, Jonathan thought he could see the weariness beneath that smile. Garrosh's war was taking its toll on everyone.

"Trust me, I'll be in touch as soon as I find anything helpful." Derscha nodded as Jonathan took the keys with a smile. Saying their farewells, Derscha took her leave, soon followed by the dispersal of the rest of those who would be joining the mission, as well as Jon, to prepare. Orgrimmar itself... this was going to be interesting, to say the least.

AAMS neutrality. Its pledge to Anytime, Anywhere. The jingle.

These were Spriggel’s center, the core of her life that made everything else make sense, kept life on an even keel. Its philosophy was branded in her heart since she’d joined and she knew it meant as much if not more to Derscha.

But Derscha had lost it and it was all Spriggel’s fault.

Clearly, not having a desk to keep her life in order had caused the bossgnome to spin mentally out of control. The repair shop had excuses, but no relief; the latest: apparently some armament was being held up at the Azshara – Durotar shipping border (who knew there were borders in the water).

So Spriggel was going to have to fix this situation herself. The stress of it all was killing her.

After a good night’s restful sleep and a delicious, savored breakfast at her favorite tea shop, which had only but recently expanded its menu to include pastries that were absolutely scrumctious (she made a mental note to get a weekly delivery to the office on Tuesdays), well after all this, Spriggel began her day at the office, writing a little note for her staff to explain her absence.

Knowing full well they would try to stop her with “A bossgnome should really delegate responsibility,” or “You’ve already worked so hard this morning, you should go home and take a nap instead,” or one of their other usual responses to her “taking measures”, she set the letter on her desk instead of handing it to her secretary and slipped out of the office. Someone would spy it sooner or later and inform anyone who came asking for her that she was out but would be back soon.

The letter read:

It’s all my fault. I’m headed over to Orgrimmar to talk to the mayor and get this set right. I expect to be back by Tuesday at the latest. Carry on as usual until then and take any messages. Spriggel Lockbolten

"She's going where?"

A few heads turned in surprise inside the temporary "Horde Branch Field Office," which was a much more polite name than "all our papers hurried out of Orgrimmar and thrown in a giant heap, plus some chairs." Andelia raised her voice so rarely that even a slight emphasis from her drew attention.

"Yes...yes...all right. I see. We'll do what we can."

Setting the goblin speaking tube down, Andelia rested her elbows on her desk for a moment and pinched the bride of her nose. Then she looked up at the skeleton staff of the Horde Branch.

"Courier Spriggel Lockbolten of the Alliance Branch is apparently inbound for Orgrimmar," she announced in her usual quiet, level tones. "She apparently wants to speak to the 'mayor,' which so far as I am aware does not exist. If God is very, very kind to us, she will at least know better than to try and speak with Garrosh Hellscream -- but God has been testing us rather sorely this week."

She rapped her knuckles firmly on the desk. "So go find her. Invite her to the Horde Branch Field Office, where we can explain the situation -- and the administrative structure of Orgrimmar, while we're at it -- over a cup of something soothing. Our situation is precarious enough without an Alliance Branch courier getting herself arrested, or worse."

Andelia looked around resignedly at the loyal faces of the Horde Branch staff. "And for God's sake," she pleaded, "find our Branch Manager. I hate being in charge."

She wasn't, of course, on paper. Andelia was simply one of several Senior Couriers, all of whom had years of experience -- and most of whom, like her, had been an interim Branch Manager at one point or another during the Service's various crisis.

But someone had to keep things nudged along until they found their official leader...

Razor Hill wasn't exactly where Brae was supposed to be, but she'd needed a few things from here and there and she'd wanted to check up on everyone who'd gotten out of Orgrimmar.

She was used to the persistent chatter and commentary in the back of her mind by now. The damn woman wouldn't shut the hells up. Still, she had a fair grip on keeping the other at bay. Just the thought of what had happened to their office made her blood boil. The sheer audacity of Hellscream to out a legitimate, if neutral, faction was....well. All right, she had to admit to herself it wasn't entirely surprising. She wanted to do....something. Something more than just sitting back and listening for updates and sitting on the sidelines. To be entirely frank, she'd like to set the entire Kor'kron up in a pyre that they'd be able to spot in Pandaria. That would show the bastard. Then again, she was only a translator- her previous job experience covered exactly one occupation in a library, kowtowing to idiots who mocked her stutter and had thought her simple and her depth of knowledge in troll cultures 'a quaint hobby'. What else would a librarian do, but look for books?


She sighed and shoved a hand through her unruly curls, trying in vain to keep them out of her face. She really should have been back in Caer Darrow, looking for more clues about the rest of those wretched journals. What a side project to toss herself into at a time like this. Then the announcement hit her like a ton of bricks. While she wasn't particularly on familiar terms with Spriggel, she'd actually rather liked the little gnome since running into her with Yoresh in Caer Darrow. Couldn't, maybe, just once, she show she was a bit more than just a librarian?

"Spriggel d-did wh-what?? I'll s-see if I c-can keep an eye out, f-for her and Arrayah b-both wh-while I'm d-doing m-my digging." She'd blurted the words out before she could think again. It wasn't exactly offering to go into the heart of Orgrimmar or anything....but it was a start.

Durotar was SUPPOSED to be Desert!

Spriggel found a rock jutting up out of the swampy ground and plopped herself down. She fanned herself with her hat briefly then drew her pack onto her lap and dug out her old, worn, trusty Travellers' Guide to Kalimor.

Yes, it clearly stated here on page 7 that Durotar was known for it's wide expanses of dry hot earth.

She scanned the area around her. Nothing but soggy bottoms as far as the eye could see.

Jonathan moved north through the Southfury Watershed in western Durotar. The rest of the agents involved with the operation were finding their own way into the city, and they were going to meet up near the ruined AAMS office. He was just passing by a broken down old orc house in the middle of the area, when he heard an usually high-pitched voice singing a diabolically familiar tune...

"Anytime, anywhere. If you have a note to send on which your life depends..."

Jonathan looked up to the roof of the house, where it seemed to be coming from. "The hell? Who's up there?" That didn't sound like any Orc he'd ever heard."

A very small form peeked out from over the edge of the roof. "Hello? Oh! One second!" The Gnome, as she appeared to be, ducked out of view quickly, while Jon climbed out of the water, having been forced to swim across sections of the area, and shook himself off.

The Gnome appeared once more, this time fully clothed and wearing a familiar tabard. Wait, he recognised that symbol!

"You're with the AAMS? I thought they all got the hell outta here?" She made her way down off the roof so they could speak on even footing.

"They are." She replied. She shook her head sadly. "Isn't it dreadful? And it's all my fault."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at that remark. "You don't look much like Garrosh Hellscream to me." How exactly did she plan to take responsibility for the office getting raided?

"No, I'm not. I'm Spriggel Lockbolten. Gnome." She introduced herself, straightening out the damp tabard. Clearly she had been doing some swimming, too; probably why some of her clothes had been sitting out: they were drying.

"The name's Jon. But what are you doing out here, and how is the AAMS situation your fault?" Since she had introduced herself, it was only fair he introduce himself as well.

"Well, Jon, it's absolutely awful. Derscha has lost her mind because I'm having her desk repaired." Oh, right. Spriggel. So THAT'S what happened to the desk. She shook her head sadly, evidently believing that was a logical explanation. "So I've got to talk to the mayor of Orgrimmar and straighten this all out and get our branch office reopened."

Jonathan nearly choked at Spriggel's words. "MAYOR of Orgrimmar? You have no idea how the Horde works, do you?" Just what was this Gnome thinking? That she could just walk into Orgrimmar and demand a sit-down with Garrosh Hellscream? And... 'Mayor' of Orgrimmar? What?

Spriggel proceeded to grab her pack off the ground, and start digging through it. "Why sure I do."

"Not if you think Orgrimmar has a mayor." Jon remarked simply.

"I had Horde orientation my first day at AAMS and scored a full five points on the exam."

"Out of how many?"

Spriggel looked away from Jon, suddenly needing to find something in her pack. "I don't remember, but I WAS told it was an amazing score." He found himself not entirely convinced. "You wouldn't happen to know the direction of Orgrimmar, would you? I seem to have gotten turned around and dropped off in the wrong place." She looked around, indicating all the water. "I'm sure Durotar is SUPPOSED to be a desert."

He had to give her that one. "This is, in fact, Durotar. The cataclysm made some changes around here. And I'm sorry, but Orgrimmar does not have a mayor. It has a Warchief, and that Warchief wants the Alliance dead. Derscha did not close down the Orgrimmar branch. Garrosh Hellscream did. The place was destroyed. I'm being sent in my Derscha to find clues on the whereabouts of a missing AAMS representative." He needed to get this Gnome's head screwed on straight before she got herself hurt.

"No, no I'm pretty sure Derscha and Arrayah closed the branch down. I got a memo that files had been transferred out and staff too, if I remember correctly. And it was a very nice office in downtown Orgrimamr so I'm certain you've misheard; the orcs probably reclaimed the office for some Orgrimmar administrative stuff; they SURE didn't tear the building down. That would make no sense." Ooooh, boy. She's one of these ones. This was going to be an interesting conversation.

"Garrosh would have seen the AAMS's neutral organization, and business dealings with both factions as a threat. He considers any interaction with the Alliance that doesn't involve killing them as an attrocity. Do you know what happened to Theramore? And... do you know who the missing operative is?" Jonathan paused briefly, not really waiting for a response. "Arrayah is missing. I have no doubt that they transferred files and staff out of there; they had to in order to keep them safe." Please, please just understand and go home.

"Arrayah is missing? They forgot to get her out? Oh dear. I guess I'll have to ask the mayor about her too when I speak to him. I should have looked up his name before I headed out." Jonathan desperately fought the urge to bash his head against the rocks.

"Again, there is no mayor. The closest you're gonna get is Garrosh Hellscream. And they didn't forget to get her out... she stayed behind. I'm going to see whether she got out, or got arrested... or worse. And if you don't believe me..." Jonathan reached and pulled out the keychain that Derscha had given him just days before. "Derscha handed me these so I could open anything still left locked after the raid."

Spriggel looked confused, perhaps wondering what the keys were for. "Oh. There must be new developments since I left the Ironforge office. Oh Light." Spriggel bit her bottom lip, considering what she'd been told. Yes, please. PLEASE get the message now. The others are probably already waiting for me by now.

He decided to add a bit more reasoning to the mix. "The notice you received about the closure of the office was probably intended to notify people that the office would no longer be in service without spreading panic among the AAMS by outright saying they were attacked."

Spriggel looked up, suddenly looking fiercely determined. "Well then, I guess we will BOTH have to go. It's a good thing I found you." She picked up her pack, tying it shut.

Jonathan felt the urge to slam his head against something hard returning while she seemed to look him over. "Wait. You going in would be suicide. Orgrimmar's guards would attack you on sight. I can stay hidden. You can't."

"Hidden? How can we sort all this out with the authorities if we hide? Good thing you found me; you need a trained diplomat for this kind of activity." Jon noted she looked a bit overheated. She was continually fanning herself.

"You don't get it. Diplomacy only works if the other side is willing to talk. We are both "kill on sight to every living being in Orgrimmar that can hold a weapon. How do you propose to be diplomatic with someone who wants nothing but your head?"

"And that's why I am a Diplomat. Even if Mr. Hellscream DID want my head, that would not be the case with everyone in Orgrimmar." She shook her head as if what she was saying made perfect sense. "That's why you need a trained diplomat; to recognise the reasonable folks with work with them."

Jonathan was silent for a moment, considering his options. Obviously he wasn't going to be able to talk her out of this. But he couldn't just leave her wandering around; first of all, if she DID find Orgrimmar, they'd attack her on sight. And then that would also alert them to other intrusions. That would make his own job harder. He did have something though...

"Fine. Just drink this, ok? It'll help us both." He pulled a small vial out of a hidden compartment in his armor, and handed it to her.

The Gnome looked at the vial dubiously. "Some kind of water concentrate?" She asked. He resisted the urge to bury his face in his hand.

"It'll help sharpen that diplomatic mind of yours. Intellect boosting elixir." He explained. It was a massive bluff, but she seemed gullible enough to buy it.

"Oh! Why thank you. This could be very handy. Perhaps I should save it and drink it when we get to town. Right now, some water would be more to my liking." Jonathan cursed silently.

"It takes a few minutes to take effect; better to take it before we arrive." He hoped that would be enough to convince her to drink it now, not later.

"Very well then, and thank you again." she said, opening the vial. "Sip it or drink all at once?"

"All at once; it's measured in one dose."

She proceeded to shoot it back like a shot of whiskey. "Not too bad." That shot mild surprise across his mind, but he showed nothing.

He simply nodded. "shouldn't be long. A quick nap'll do you good. Sorry to trick you like that, but believe me when I say it's for your own good."

"Nap? are you tired?" She looked confused, and pulled the pack off her back, pulling out a blanket. "You might be comfortable on this." Shouldn't she be feeling drowsy by now?

"That wasn't an intellect elixir. That was a knockout potion. You should be pretty drowsy soon, but I'll make sure you're safe till I get back." He decided to be honest. He had nothing against her; quite the opposite. He just wanted to keep her out of trouble.

She jumped back. "What? You tricked me?!" She proceeded to hide a yawn behind her hand. "Must've been a weak dosage."

"How quickly it takes effect can vary." He lied. She should have been unconscious by now. She proceeded to sit down, looking like she was fighting to stay awake. Then it hit him. Of course! Her eyes... she was a Death Knight! ...THIS is a Death Knight? That explained why it wasn't having as strong an effect; that knockout potion wasn't designed for the undead. But then, why was it having ANY effect? Maybe she really was just that gullible?

"You'll feel refreshed after a good nap. I'll move you into some shade or something before I go, and I'll be back before you know it."

Another yawn. "No... I ...should be... with... well, maybe....just...a...little..." She proceeded to lay down. "n..."

Quickly enough, she was sound asleep and snoring softly. There we go. Hopefully she'll stay asleep till we can get out of there. I'll bring her back to Stormwind once this is over. He thought to himself, finding a safe, shady spot to deposit her for now, covering her in her blanket as much as possible without pulling it out from under her.

Mandy Levine peered out from her petch, and nodded back to Jonathan, murmering a quick "All clear, sir." The idea of being called "sir" still boggled him.

Jon looked out and spotted the Orc that had been described to him, sweeping near the broken AAMS office. "That's him. Call him over... whistle a few bars of the AAMS jingle if you know it."

There was an awkward silence for a few moments before William, beside Jon stepped forward, shaking his head at Mandy. How could someone NOT know that blasted jingle by now? He proceeded to whistle a few lines.

Dorgot, out on the street, abruptly stopped sweeping, glancing around. He obviously recognised the tune. His gaze drifted in there direction, and his eyes widened. Glancing up and down the street, he rushed over, and started whispering in hushed tones, which Mandy translated for him. "What are you DOING here? Are you CRAZY?"

"We've been sent by Derscha of the AAMS. I need to check out that office. Is there anything you can tell me that might help us get in and out?"

The Orc whispered fiercely. "You can't!" he continued more gently, but frantically. "They're waiting for you to come." He kept nervously tossing gazes up and down the street.

"If they're waiting for us, that turns the advantage to us." Jon figured. "Do you have any idea what sort of "trap" they have planned? We need to get in there."

"They're expecting someone to come by because they've told the crew to stay clear. We've been told it's safe up to the door, but not to set a foot inside. I'd guess they have some kind of trap or," the Orc stopped to gulp. "...bomb for "unwanted visitors"."

Jonathan nodded, taking note. "Thank you, that helps. We need to keep a sharp eye for automated traps, then. Do you have any information on what might have happened to Arrayah? She is the reason we're here."

"No, she disappeared like the desert wind. And I've asked around, well more like listened around because," Jonathan noted that the orc put emphasis on this next part; "They have wanted posters around the city for her."

Nearby, William slipped from perch to move through the lengthening shadows to look for a way inside while they dealt with Dorgot.

Jonathan meanwhile, was smiling at the news. "Thanks, that's probably the best news we could have gotten; if they're looking for her, they haven't arrested or killed her. That's all we need, thanks."

Dorgot nodded. "You all best be careful, VERY careful trying to get in. The goblins are just north of here and it's easy to get their help with things like traps and bombs here because of that."

Jon sneered at the idea of Goblins. "If it's a goblin trap, so much the better. They're volatile, but easy to disarm."

"Well..." Another gulp. "Okay. I... I can keep sweeping this street for a good half hour if you need me around."

Jon shook his head. "It's up to you. We can get out on our own if we need to. You can forget we were ever here."

Dorgot pondered for a moment, and his eyes lit up, apparently, seeming to find some courage. "I'll stick around. Never can tell if you might need a friendly hand." Jonathan found himself appreciating the Orc's bravery, and surprised at the fact.

William's voice came across the com in an overly calm manner. "Sir, I seem to have found one of their traps."

Jonathan paused for a moment, considering William's tone. "...Can you disarm it?"

"No... no sir, I cannot."

Jonathan held back a sigh. "We'll be over in a sec. Hold tight. What kind of trap?"

"Pressue plate attached to what appears to be a large tangle of wires and somewhere in there is a rather large explosive."

Jonathan suddenly understood the dilemma. "...And you can't tell which wire goes where, and which wire might set off the bomb if disconnected."

"They are all bright red with little smiley faces on them, sir." ...Yeah, that sounded like Goblins.

Dorgot looked on, looking torn between going back to work and helping with what they were doing.

Jon noticed, and got Mandy to translate one last message. "Unless you know how to diffuse a bomb connected to a tangle of wires that all look the same, you're probably better off going back to work. We'll handle this."

Dorgot nodded and headed to work, sweeping up and down the street, perhaps a little... quicker than he needed to. Obviously still nervous.