((This is an open RP for both the Alliance and the Horde. Dem neutral cities.))
The fierce winds of Ogrimmar blew Lectril's hair around his face as he hurried through the Valley of Strength. The elf moved from one citizen to another, asking the same questions again and again.
“Do you know who Jay Brooks is?”
“Have you seen a Forsaken that smells like sweet rolls? He has an ametrine in place of an eye.”
“Have you seen a book titled Notes from Brookslandia lying around anywhere?”
Each time the elf was met with disappointment. When people weren't simply ignoring him to continue toward the auction house, bank, or wherever their current destination was, they often fed him a “No.” Occasionally, however, Lectril would stumble upon someone who remembered.
“Notes from Brookslandia? Wasn't that the strange book that everyone wrote in? Some people left bugs in there. That was disgusting.”
“Notes? With the crazy deader? Yeah. The last time that book appeared there was a lot of rambling in it about 'connections.' A load of crap if I've ever read anything.”
“Oh, yeah. The creeper's diary. No one misses that stupid thing. I forgot it even existed.”
“Isn't Jay the Forsaken who uses his chest as an oven for sweet rolls?”
In the other valleys, more were scurrying about, asking the same question. Some orcs, a tauren, a goblin, and another blood elf returned to Lectril with answers similar to those he had received. No one had told them anything helpful. They sighed collectively, watching the citizens of scurry about. This was the last city they had left to ask around for knowledge of Jay Brooks and his odd book. Thunder Bluff, Silvermoon, and the Undercity had all been ransacked for information. Even Shattrath and Dalaran were no help. The goblin finally spoke.
“'ey boss. Whadda we gonna be doin' now? We hit all the cities. We ain't gonna find this guy.”
Lectril sighed. “Back to Shattrath. Then Dalaran. I guess we'll just keep repeating until we get a lead.”
The elf headed off to the Valley of Spirits and the portal to the Blasted Lands. His entourage followed, the tauren joining them after he tacked two flyers near the door to the auction house and bank just as he had for every other city they had visited, one in Orcish and one in Common.
Beneath the words “Have you seen this Forsaken?” was a picture of a Forsaken matching the description the group had been inquiring for in the cities. Below that was yet another picture, this time of the book and its glowing runes and flowing title.
And beneath that:
“IF FOUND: CONTACT LECTRIL WILDWIND.”
The fierce winds of Ogrimmar blew Lectril's hair around his face as he hurried through the Valley of Strength. The elf moved from one citizen to another, asking the same questions again and again.
“Do you know who Jay Brooks is?”
“Have you seen a Forsaken that smells like sweet rolls? He has an ametrine in place of an eye.”
“Have you seen a book titled Notes from Brookslandia lying around anywhere?”
Each time the elf was met with disappointment. When people weren't simply ignoring him to continue toward the auction house, bank, or wherever their current destination was, they often fed him a “No.” Occasionally, however, Lectril would stumble upon someone who remembered.
“Notes from Brookslandia? Wasn't that the strange book that everyone wrote in? Some people left bugs in there. That was disgusting.”
“Notes? With the crazy deader? Yeah. The last time that book appeared there was a lot of rambling in it about 'connections.' A load of crap if I've ever read anything.”
“Oh, yeah. The creeper's diary. No one misses that stupid thing. I forgot it even existed.”
“Isn't Jay the Forsaken who uses his chest as an oven for sweet rolls?”
In the other valleys, more were scurrying about, asking the same question. Some orcs, a tauren, a goblin, and another blood elf returned to Lectril with answers similar to those he had received. No one had told them anything helpful. They sighed collectively, watching the citizens of scurry about. This was the last city they had left to ask around for knowledge of Jay Brooks and his odd book. Thunder Bluff, Silvermoon, and the Undercity had all been ransacked for information. Even Shattrath and Dalaran were no help. The goblin finally spoke.
“'ey boss. Whadda we gonna be doin' now? We hit all the cities. We ain't gonna find this guy.”
Lectril sighed. “Back to Shattrath. Then Dalaran. I guess we'll just keep repeating until we get a lead.”
The elf headed off to the Valley of Spirits and the portal to the Blasted Lands. His entourage followed, the tauren joining them after he tacked two flyers near the door to the auction house and bank just as he had for every other city they had visited, one in Orcish and one in Common.
Beneath the words “Have you seen this Forsaken?” was a picture of a Forsaken matching the description the group had been inquiring for in the cities. Below that was yet another picture, this time of the book and its glowing runes and flowing title.
And beneath that:
“IF FOUND: CONTACT LECTRIL WILDWIND.”
Edited by Lectril on 11/4/2011 1:18 PM PDT
