09-30-2010, 06:16 AM
Rainbow
Spoiler:
A faint grating sound and a light hiss broke the silence of a pond deep in Elwynn. A wolf howled somewhere nearby and the hooting of owls could be heard, as the skies were pierced by innumerable points of light, some bright, some dim, some flickering behind the few clouds that dared obscure their brilliance.
Lyia Duskvenom sat on the side of a pond, running her fingers along the sides of the edge of her Elunite katana, a few grains of very fine sand between them, a couple of drops of water, and the blade. She frowned slightly, then flicked the sword clean of water and sand, eying it over.
"That last one had thick neck vertebrae, huh?... Well, you're still more than a match for flesh, sinew and bone..." she murmured to the weapon, then sheathed it across her back, standing.
The Night Elf stood, moving a bit further into the depths of the forest, until she reached a square, brick shack. She curled her fingers around the knob on the door, turning it and pushing it open, to a sharp creaking sound.
The Kaldorei girl stepped into the dimly candle-lit room, eying the man on the rise directly opposite herself. He was, as expected, dressed in all black. He turned his head to the side, giving her a sidelong glance from beneath his hood.
"Liar. Did you know that this is one of the oldest Square-houses?" he asked, turning.
"I did not."
"Generations of human assassins have stood in the shack you now stand, taking orders from the man atop the rise."
"Right. I don't need a history lesson, and I don't give half a fel for your organisation's lineage, proud though you might conceive it to be." she answered, staring directly at him.
"We did not mean it in a condescending manner. We merely noted that you are the first Kaldorei to stand where you do now. Your next mark is a Dwarf."
The Liar blinked a couple of times. "A Dwarf? What've they done? Where are they?"
"Bulwyf Bronzehammer, a wealthy weapons dealer, is in Ironforge-" he was cut off.
"Ironforge? I'd not be the most inconspicous person there. What with being this tall..." she tilted her head to the side.
"Liar, if you'd let Us finish... We've arranged a meeting with Bulwyf. In secret. As he deals in illegal technology, and sells weapons to the highest bidder, occasionally being the Horde, this makes him a traitor."
"And I pose the buyer and..." she nodded.
"Precisely."
Lyia turned around, pushing open the door. "It's a nice place, this old shack... But it's not my style." she looked forwards, walking out. She sped for Stormwind wherein she took the Deeprun Tram to Ironforge...
Lyia Duskvenom sat on the side of a pond, running her fingers along the sides of the edge of her Elunite katana, a few grains of very fine sand between them, a couple of drops of water, and the blade. She frowned slightly, then flicked the sword clean of water and sand, eying it over.
"That last one had thick neck vertebrae, huh?... Well, you're still more than a match for flesh, sinew and bone..." she murmured to the weapon, then sheathed it across her back, standing.
The Night Elf stood, moving a bit further into the depths of the forest, until she reached a square, brick shack. She curled her fingers around the knob on the door, turning it and pushing it open, to a sharp creaking sound.
The Kaldorei girl stepped into the dimly candle-lit room, eying the man on the rise directly opposite herself. He was, as expected, dressed in all black. He turned his head to the side, giving her a sidelong glance from beneath his hood.
"Liar. Did you know that this is one of the oldest Square-houses?" he asked, turning.
"I did not."
"Generations of human assassins have stood in the shack you now stand, taking orders from the man atop the rise."
"Right. I don't need a history lesson, and I don't give half a fel for your organisation's lineage, proud though you might conceive it to be." she answered, staring directly at him.
"We did not mean it in a condescending manner. We merely noted that you are the first Kaldorei to stand where you do now. Your next mark is a Dwarf."
The Liar blinked a couple of times. "A Dwarf? What've they done? Where are they?"
"Bulwyf Bronzehammer, a wealthy weapons dealer, is in Ironforge-" he was cut off.
"Ironforge? I'd not be the most inconspicous person there. What with being this tall..." she tilted her head to the side.
"Liar, if you'd let Us finish... We've arranged a meeting with Bulwyf. In secret. As he deals in illegal technology, and sells weapons to the highest bidder, occasionally being the Horde, this makes him a traitor."
"And I pose the buyer and..." she nodded.
"Precisely."
Lyia turned around, pushing open the door. "It's a nice place, this old shack... But it's not my style." she looked forwards, walking out. She sped for Stormwind wherein she took the Deeprun Tram to Ironforge...
Pick your poison
Spoiler:
The smell of smoke, meat and metal wafted through the air as crowds filled the streets of the Dwarven mountain city. Torches and braziers lit the tall halls, peddlers harking their wares all about the sides of the many roads. Vigilant Thief Catchers and guards oversaw everything, loud singing coming from a nearby tavern catching their attention somewhat.
The Liar walked about a steel grate, high above a flow of lava, quietly praying to whatever deity was listening that the walkway would hold underfoot, and not collapse under her weight.
She turned a corner, reaching a door to a long tunnel. The door had a strange, puzzle-like knob on it, a half of a sphere near its top, and another near its bottom. The Night Elf reached out to the halves, cupping one in each hand and pushing them together, then turning the sphere clockwise once, and counter-clockwise twice, then let them part, the door opening.
The Kaldorei girl stepped past the open doorway, leaning slightly under the low ceiling and heavy cloak. She descended down the tunnel until she reached a side-door. This one had a normal handle. She knocked.
"Come in, lassie." came a gruff voice from the other side.
Lyia nodded, pushing it open and going in. She saw a mostly bare, sandstone room, with a granite table and two stone benches, one on each side. On the chair furthest to the door, a fat, stocky Dwarf sat, tugging on his long, bushy, ruddy red beard. He nodded at her once.
"Och, so ye're the lass that askes fer the weapons, aye? Never knew ye' Kalderay're that much inter guns..." he remarked, gesturing to the only empty chair.
"We base ourselves on efficiency. Where guns are needed, they shall be used." she said, smirking beneath her mask, the cloak still draping her shoulders, her head covered by the hood, her silver eyes affixed to the Dwarf's own brown ones.
"Aye, aye. Now, what're ye' wantin', lassie? I'm thinkin' somethin' to the lines o' a silenced pistol, eh?"
"That would be just fine."
"Good, good." he nodded a couple of times. "When do ye'want it? An' what caliber'd it be?"
"As soon as possible. And, make the caliber as large as you can, without detracting from the soundlessness of the shot."
"Errh.. That's 'spensive, ye knoo'..."
"Money is not a problem."
The Dwarf rubbed his knobby hands together, nodding a couple of times quickly and flashed her a lopsided grin, his eyes glinting with greed. "Aye, 'spose it's not. Say, lassie, shall we drink ter seal the deal?" he asked, gesturing to a wooden tankard on the table, and taking a bottle of what seemed to be an aged ale, unopened, and popped the cork off, filling the mug.
"I tend not to drink... But I've not had dwarven ales yet." she smiled, slipping her hand to the back of her neck, untieing the mask, then to her mouth, her fingers flexing inward for a brief moment. Her tongue clicked.
"Try it, lassie. 'Tis tradition."
She reached out, taking the mug, letting the mask down on her lap, and took a drink of it. Whatever was in her mouth, was now in the ale. She set the mug down, and slid it over to the Dwarf, shuddering from the strength of the drink.
"That's... very potent." she chuckled.
"Aye, 'S Thunderbrew Ale.." The Dwarf said, taking the mug and draining it dry, chugging all its contents down in moments. He slammed it on the table, nodding once. "There. The deal's sealed."
The Night Elf nodded back at him, tieing the mask around her head once more. She stared at him for a few moments, then said. "So is your fate."
The Dwarf blinked, frowning. He tried to say something, yet no words came out. He reached for a sword at his side, yet his arm was too weak to unsheathe it. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell backwards.
The Liar stood off her chair, and walked around the table, to the Dwarf. There, she crouched, watching him intently. He started foaming at the mouth, and before long, he expired. She checked his pulse. He had none.
The Kaldorei stood, walking out of the room, and moved for the door to the tunnel. She passed it, turning around. She used the same combination on the sphere to lock it shut, and walked back for the Deeprun Tram...
The Liar walked about a steel grate, high above a flow of lava, quietly praying to whatever deity was listening that the walkway would hold underfoot, and not collapse under her weight.
She turned a corner, reaching a door to a long tunnel. The door had a strange, puzzle-like knob on it, a half of a sphere near its top, and another near its bottom. The Night Elf reached out to the halves, cupping one in each hand and pushing them together, then turning the sphere clockwise once, and counter-clockwise twice, then let them part, the door opening.
The Kaldorei girl stepped past the open doorway, leaning slightly under the low ceiling and heavy cloak. She descended down the tunnel until she reached a side-door. This one had a normal handle. She knocked.
"Come in, lassie." came a gruff voice from the other side.
Lyia nodded, pushing it open and going in. She saw a mostly bare, sandstone room, with a granite table and two stone benches, one on each side. On the chair furthest to the door, a fat, stocky Dwarf sat, tugging on his long, bushy, ruddy red beard. He nodded at her once.
"Och, so ye're the lass that askes fer the weapons, aye? Never knew ye' Kalderay're that much inter guns..." he remarked, gesturing to the only empty chair.
"We base ourselves on efficiency. Where guns are needed, they shall be used." she said, smirking beneath her mask, the cloak still draping her shoulders, her head covered by the hood, her silver eyes affixed to the Dwarf's own brown ones.
"Aye, aye. Now, what're ye' wantin', lassie? I'm thinkin' somethin' to the lines o' a silenced pistol, eh?"
"That would be just fine."
"Good, good." he nodded a couple of times. "When do ye'want it? An' what caliber'd it be?"
"As soon as possible. And, make the caliber as large as you can, without detracting from the soundlessness of the shot."
"Errh.. That's 'spensive, ye knoo'..."
"Money is not a problem."
The Dwarf rubbed his knobby hands together, nodding a couple of times quickly and flashed her a lopsided grin, his eyes glinting with greed. "Aye, 'spose it's not. Say, lassie, shall we drink ter seal the deal?" he asked, gesturing to a wooden tankard on the table, and taking a bottle of what seemed to be an aged ale, unopened, and popped the cork off, filling the mug.
"I tend not to drink... But I've not had dwarven ales yet." she smiled, slipping her hand to the back of her neck, untieing the mask, then to her mouth, her fingers flexing inward for a brief moment. Her tongue clicked.
"Try it, lassie. 'Tis tradition."
She reached out, taking the mug, letting the mask down on her lap, and took a drink of it. Whatever was in her mouth, was now in the ale. She set the mug down, and slid it over to the Dwarf, shuddering from the strength of the drink.
"That's... very potent." she chuckled.
"Aye, 'S Thunderbrew Ale.." The Dwarf said, taking the mug and draining it dry, chugging all its contents down in moments. He slammed it on the table, nodding once. "There. The deal's sealed."
The Night Elf nodded back at him, tieing the mask around her head once more. She stared at him for a few moments, then said. "So is your fate."
The Dwarf blinked, frowning. He tried to say something, yet no words came out. He reached for a sword at his side, yet his arm was too weak to unsheathe it. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell backwards.
The Liar stood off her chair, and walked around the table, to the Dwarf. There, she crouched, watching him intently. He started foaming at the mouth, and before long, he expired. She checked his pulse. He had none.
The Kaldorei stood, walking out of the room, and moved for the door to the tunnel. She passed it, turning around. She used the same combination on the sphere to lock it shut, and walked back for the Deeprun Tram...
![[Image: 2hhkp3k.gif]](http://i45.tinypic.com/2hhkp3k.gif)