World of Warcraft®

It was a dark, gloomy night on the streets of Stormwind. A thin mist clung to the pavement below, while the night sky was veiled by clouds. The clouds had threatened rain earlier in the afternoon on the tradesmen and simple folk of Stormwind, but now helped to hide the actions of some of the less scrupulous of the city's citizens.

Such an example was silently stepping through the streets now, occasionally slipping into a darker shadow to avoid the light of a patroller. He grinned as one passed within a foot of him, the light of the lantern the patroller was carrying only serving to darken the shadow that was hiding him. While the guards may have felt more comfortable carrying light around, the lanterns only made them easier to be avoided. Even the lamp posts that the city had installed barely seemed to be able to hold off this gloom.

As he approached the entrance to Stormwind's Old Town district, the rogue paused. This was the only spot in his errand tonight that could attract notice. He kept near the wall, slowly moving, watching the guards carefully as he moved. He froze in place occasionally, trying to avoid the odd movement that might accidently attract attention. finally making his way around the canal, he paused. The gate into the district was guarded and well lit, definitely not the best avenue of approach. Fortunately, the good citizens had provided another avenue in. Unsheathing his hooked-shape sword, he looked around for a good spot. A likely ledge caught his eye. Hooking the curve of his sword on it, he pulled himself up to the building's roof.

Roof-walking wasn't as common these days as it used to be. The city had finally decided to permit people to fly gryphons and other mounts in Stormwind, and the rsult had meant more eyes watching from the ky, and another, inevitable nuisance on the roofs. The combination meant most thieves stuck to the ground.

Picking his way gingerly across the roof, avoiding makin gany noise or stepping in anything disgusting, he crossed over the wall, and into the Old Town. Here, he needed to be less careful as he traveled. There were fewer guards around, and less people in general who cared what a person was doing at this hour of the night. Indeed, many people were busy conducting their own business at this hour.

Reaching his destination, he glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then knocked in the pattern he had been instructed. The door slowly swung open, to a room even darker than the night outside. The dim light of the street seemed to be swallowed whole by this oppressive darkness. The thief stepped into the room, nervous for the first time tonight, as the door swung closed behind him.

The thief swallowed nervously, his eyes flicking back and forth, trying to spot anything in the shadows. A spark suddenly lit the gloom, lighting a candle. The candle seemed to float in the air on it's own, moving to illuminate a set of stairs leading down into even deeper darkness. A voice spoke from the darkness around the nervous thief.

"Go down."

The voice was gravely and harsh, but as hard as he looked, he couldn't see a body with it.

"Go down!"

The voice spoke again, more urgent this time and sounding angry for having to repeat itself.

Not having any other option, since he couldn't see the door he came in, he moved down the stairs, his hand trembling as he clutched the rail. The staircase was steep, but the candle continued floating just in front of him as he descended further and further. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he reached the bottom. The candle floated off to the side, and extinguished itself. Suddenly the room exploded in a flash of light. The thief cried out and covered his blinded eyes from the bright light. Blinking furiously, he tried to look around. Gradually his sight blurred back to normal, and he could see again.

The room was surprisingly normal. A fireplace was against one wall, cheerfully burning, while the other walls were covered from top to bottom with bookshelves. A pair of large stuffed chairs sat facing the fireplace, on top of a woven rug. A desk with several scrolls on it was in the far corner. Next to the door the thief had come in from was a small table that held a half-full decanter, and a set of matched glasses.

"Welcome to my study."

The voice came from one of the chairs by the fireplace. A cowled figure in dark robes stood up and faced the thief. The figure appeared to be of average height and build, but it was impossible to tell anything else about the dark figure other than his gender, covered as he was. Even his voice seemed average, an odd tone that seemed devoid of any accent.

The dark figure spoke again. "Forgive the excessive showmanship, but someone in my unique position needs to maintain a certain amount of discretion. Please help yourself to some brandy from the sideboard." The man gestured to the bottle.

The thief grinned, "No problem mate, I think a drink'd hit the spot fer sure roight now." The thief walked over and poured a full glass, and raised it to the dark figure, and gave a cheeky "Cheers, mate!", before tossing the glass back, and pouring a second one. The dark figure sat back down again, and gestured to the chair next to his. The thief strode over, glass in hand, and sat down in the offered chair.

The dark figure steepled his fingers, and appeared to be staring at the thief, waiting. The thief began to look around the room again, unnerved by the faceless gaze.

"So, now that you've had your drink, down to business."

The voice caught the thief offgaurd, and he snapped his attention back to the dark figure. "Roight mate, what can I do fer a foine gentleman such as yerself?"

"You are a thief, but more importantly, I've heard that you're a thief with limits to what you'll do. Undoubtedly, that is the only thing that has kept the Stormwind guard from pursuing you more ardently. It would have been so much easier for you to simply kill the servant who tried to stop you last week, instead of just knocking him unconcious."

The thief looked shocked, and spluttered "How did you hear- I mean, what makes you think..."

"Please, think clearly. If my intentions were to turn you in, I wouldn't have made the arrangements through my contacts to have you steal that necklace to begin with. I wanted a demonstration, and you performed exactly as I hoped you would. I have need of someone with your skills, and the fact that you have some morals will only serve to aid you."

The thief sat back and took another drink. This was definitely not going as he had planned.

The dark figure waited until the thief had finished his drink. "There is an... associate of mine that has a tendency, through no fault or intention of her own, to find herself in the midst of every single disaster that occurs. What's even more surprising is that it's usually some innocent action of hers that starts the chain of events."

The thief nodded, still looking a little wild-eyed, his eyes flickering occasionally around the room as if seeking another exit.

"I think it's time that I kept a closer watch on her. And that's where you, my friend, come in. I need someone that, while being a little rough around the edges, has scruples they won't cross. She'll take that as a sign that you can be redeemed, which means that she'll bring you in and take your redemption on as a cause." The dark figure chuckled. "Of course, you'll be working for me on the inside. She had various wards placed over her barracks against individuals such as myself, but with you inside, you'll be able to act as my eyes and ears. The fact that you're not one of her flighty and unreliable gnomes will lead her to want to trust you."

"To put it bluntly, I want you to gain the trust of Gentyl D'Amond, infiltrate the Pia Presidium, spy on their actions, and report on their activities."

The thief stared at his glass, swirling the little bit of liquid left in it, as the dark figure finished. This was getting too serious. It was one thing to nick a piece of jewelry, or swipe a few gold, but this, this could get him hanged or worse. He tossed back the last of the drink and stood up.

"Well mate, I can tell yer a roight powerful one, but this job's too big fer me. If'n you'll show me the way out, I'll be takin' me leave."

The dark figure was silent a moment, still facing the thief, before speaking. "So, that's your answer then? I'm disappointed. Perhaps I misjudged you." The figure stood up, and gestured at the open door. "If that's your choice then, you'll find an exit that way."

The thief began walking to the door, feeling a sense of dread and anxiety in his stomach. It couldn't be that easy, could it? He suddenly paused in his step, and fell to his knee midstride, as the feeling of unease in his stomach suddenly changed into burning cramps which spread out over his entire body, shooting pain across every fiber of his being. He blacked out from the agony, collapsing to the floor.

Temperius stood over the figure, and made a slight noise of irritation. Individuals with morals were always so difficult to work with. Predictable, but difficult to work with. Fortunately, he had an alternate plan in reserve. He summoned his voidwalker, who appeared out of the shadow of the doorway.

"Take him to the lower chamber, and make sure everything is ready for the spellbinding."

As the voidwalker complied, Temperius strode over to the decanter the thief had been drinking from. Temperius held the bottle to the light, admiring how the light played on the surface. It hadn't been easy, finding a drug subtle enough that it wouldn't affect the taste of the alcohol, but well worth it.

Traverston awoke. He was sitting in the chair by the fire again. Springing to his feet, he spun around, daggers from sleeve sheathes in his hands, as he looked for the dark figure.

"Ah, you're finally awake." The voice came from behind, and Traverston turned, the dagger flying from his hand at the direction of the sound. The crack of a whip, and the dagger was knocked out of the air. A succubus rolled her whip back up, and smirked at him, shifting her hips seductively as she gazed at Traverston.

"Thank you, Hesneri, although I'm sure Traverston here didn't intend any rudeness in his actions." The dark figure strode around to the front of his desk. The succubus strode over to the warlock, caressing his chest with her hand, before walking to the door, her hips swaying and begging for attention with every step. Traverston couldn't help but watch. The dark figure gave a light cough, and Traverston jerked his attention back to the individual.

"You drugged me, mate, not the sort of thing a fellow does when he's tryin' ta hire me fer work."

"You made it necessary. If you had agreed to work for me, I merely would have used your unconciousness to move you fom here without drawing attention to my wuarters here. Since you didn't want to take this job, I decided to use the time to remove your choice in the matter."

Traverston could feel a rage building. This warlock had done something to him! Suddenly, a pain shot through his body, and he doubled over. Traverston stared at his hands as they began enlarging, the nails turning into claws, and fur erupting all over his body. With a snarl he tried to lunge at the man, intending to tear his throat out.

And suddenly found his body refusing to move, his claws a centimeter from the man, paralyzed somehow. Traverston was forced to watch and listen as the figure stepped away to the side.

"Magnificent. The worgen formula is an apparent success. I'm sure you want nothing more than to tear me limb from limb right now. It will do you no good. I've placed spell bindings on you that will prevent you from trying to harm me in anyway, whether it's speech or a physical attack. Your dagger throw earlier? I was never in any danger from it, otherwise you would have been stopped."

The figured raised his hand, and snapped his fingers, and Traverston found himself able to move again.

"Why?" Traverston growled literally, his voice a horrifying gravel tone, hardly sounding human any more.

"To give you...incentive, so to speak. I made you this way. I can cure you as well. If you do as I say, of course." The figure moved to sit behind the desk again. "I wasn't lying about the job. I still think you suit my purposes. The spell bindings are just for my protection. If you had been willing, I wouldn't have turned you into a worgen. If you calm down, you'll find that you can will yourself back to your human shape. And if you do as I ask, when I decide that your role has ended, I'll give you the cure."

Traverston closed his eyes, taking a few deep breathes, and found himself changing back again, feeling himself become smaller in size.

"Fine, mate, I'll do it. But you'd better hold up yer part o' the deal, guvnor, or I'll find some way ta make you pay." Traverston turned and stalked through the stairs, making his way out, while his mind was a blur of everything that had happened tonight.

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

Temperius smiled behind the cowl he was wearing. He was lying, of course. There wasn't a cure for what he had done to Traverston. Hope, however, would tighten the leash around Traverston's neck far tighter than anything mere magic could do.

((ok, I'm done posting! Not really looking for people to add in, this is more a brief introduction into Traverston's small role in things now!))