News

For the Greater Good

By Nearo a - Posted Jun 7, 18

5 days later...

The two Quel'dorei agents smiled at their hosts and graciously made their way out of the meeting room at the Gallywix Pleasure Palace complex. The meeting with Liveticus, Gorter and Gambozak had gone exceptionally well. Though criminals such as these were unlikely to hold any moral reservations on seeking out the information being requested - it was better for everyone involved that the true nature of the mission stay a secret. It didn't seem that they suspected anything out of the ordinary, and it was best to keep it that way.

The storm in the area had just begun, and was quickly intensifying with a fervor that filled the air with the deafening sound of relentless rainfall and thunder you could feel in your belly. Kalimdor was a land of extremes, and this little corner of Azshara was no different. The rainfall was loud enough that Sivianna felt comfortable enough to turn to her sister and speak of the mission as they walked further and further away from their hosts. Their hosts would be unable to overhear anything.

"That went rather well, don't you think?" she said coldly.

"A little too well! Did you overhear my "conversation" with that disgusting little goblin?" responded Visianna, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she recalled the goblin Gorter - who had tried to negotiate ownership of the high elf into the deal.

"Friendly enough for a goblin... I thought he was quite nice in a disgusting little goblin sort of way." remarked Sivianna, following up her statement with a smirk. "You did good. He definitely took a liking to you, though. We need to use that to our advantage."

"Don't even think about it." snapped Visianna, shaking her head.

"No, no.. that's not what I meant! Goblins in his position always have a vast network of contacts... he could prove useful."

The rain intensified as they approached the clearing where the Goblin rocket-propelled transport was waiting for them for the return trip to Orgrimmar.

"Even the Royal Apothecary Society must use outside suppliers to procure some of the exotic reagents. Those suppliers will have contacts throughout the goblin trade cartels." remarked Sivianna, raising her voice just slightly as the sound of the rain started to become even more deafening. "No one's going to provide whatever disgusting or hazardous components they use in the manufacturing process for free!"

"And Gorter may know who's in charge of the trade routes to and from The Undercity." responded Visianna, her sister simply acknowledging with a nod as they approached the Goblin transport. The goblin pilot could now be seen as they approached, so they decided to postpone the rest of the conversation until later.

"Yo! We needa 'ta get outta here! yelled the goblin, frantically trying to get the rocket started. If the two elves had showed up a minute or two later, the goblin would probably had already left them behind. "The lightning's about to start up! Get in there!" yelled the goblin pilot, pointing at the back seat.

The two Quel'dorei promptly hopped into the back seat without another word, holding on tight as the rocket boosters fired up for the return trip to Orgrimmar.

----------

that same day in Northrend...

He looked down at the graveyard which had once been a battlefield. This was the first known site where the so-called "New Plague" had been used by the Royal Apothecary Society to devastating effect. Fire from the red dragons had cleansed the land of the Banshee Queen's poison. Scorched remnants of metal and bone poking through the thin snow cover of early Summer served as a somber monument to the foolish naivete of the Alliance and the typical treachery of the Horde.

"Death to the Scourge! And Death to the Living!" 

Those were the last words heard by so many that day, just moments before their flesh was melted away like an icicle disappearing into a boiling hot spring. 

Listening to the soft, gentle whisper of the wind passing through his hollow rib cage, he tried to enjoy the eerie peacefulness of this area while he looked around the abandoned camp for anything that might be useful. It had been years since this camp had been abandoned, but Looters and grave-robbers clearly had better sense than to come here of all places.

Next to the scorched debris of what might have once been a cart or a catapult, he noticed a couple of skeletons. Most of the flesh had been burnt off, but brittle scraps of leather covered their entire face, and two glass discs - still intact, had survived the heat from the fire and were still pressed against the hollowed out eye sockets on the two skeletons. 

"Blight masks", he thought to himself. Scanning the ground, he noticed several iron rings... he recognized them as barrel hoops, similar to the kind used for storing fresh water onboard a ship. Upon close inspection, a small maker's mark was just barely readable. 

"VL" was stamped into the outside of the ring.

The barrel had been made at Vengence Landing, which meant it had also been filled there. The Plague used here had been made nearby... not brought in all the way from Undercity.

Walking over to his mount, he paused to take in one more look at the battlefield behind him. 

"So that's what it'll look like."

NoticeNotices