In a flash of smoke, fire, and the smell of brimstone, an imp teleports into the empty guild hall. Glancing around, he pulls a slightly singed scroll from his pocket. The imp, Laznik, looks around, and seeing no one, he mutters to himself "Let's just have a peeksy at what Master Chumbus wrote." He unrolls the scroll, and peers at the script on the page.
"CRAAAAAA...WHAT?" the imp exclaims! He holds the scroll open - and it is almost totally illegible. The words, although in an even script, are written over and over each other in place. The ink is smudged to no end. The only legible word appears to be "peanuts." The imp gasps, and clutching the parchment, looks around to see if he has been spotted.
"For the love of...that son of a bitch is going to get us both killed!" the imp exclaims as he stares at the smudge marks. In the heart of The Grim guild hall, the imp feels a deep sense of fear. "WHY did I think that idiot could do this himself? He's blind! He can't see a single mark on the page! He can't see the friggin page!"
Hoping he escaped notice, the imp teleports away.
Some time later, in a small cabin in Duskwood, Laznik meets with his Master. Henry R. Chumbus sits in the corner, still, quiet, unmoving. He has no reaction to Laznik's tale of the smudged parchment and the imposing guild hall. Instead, he communicates with Laznik as he does all of his demons: telepathically. Chumbus' death had robbed him of the eloquence of speech. Words now came haltingly, stubborn, and with great effort. Laznik had become his Master's mouthpiece since death had robbed Chumbus of the gift of a silver tongue.
C: "We will just write a new one. You will be my eyes. You will be my pen."
L: "You almost got me killed, human."
C: "I am no longer human."
L: "Well, you almost got me killed, no-longer-human. Imagine where you would be without me..." the imp said, not even bothering to hide the malice in his voice.
"I'd...i'd just bring you back from the Twisting Nether" thought Chumbus, unmoved. "Neither of our lives would change." he thought, befuddled.
The imp crouched, resignedly, to write. Clearly irritated, the pen hovered above the parchment. "Think" said the imp, "and I will record it."
Chumbus drew a deep breath. "Introductions: I have been known as Henry Rutherford Chumbus, Esq. I address The Grim. Neither of us have need of small talk. I will not bore you with my history nor flatter you with praise. I will not waste your time with peanuts when I wish to discuss a seven-course meal.
I start with this premise: I believe that our interests are currently aligned. I have heard of your mandate. I desire more study. I am cognizant of the limits of my current understanding, and I would like to learn more of your world-view. I wish to be but a student among your ranks, so long as our interests continue to align.
I desire annihilation of the Alliance. I wish to watch them shatter as do waves upon the rocky shore. I want to watch the remnants thrash and draw water into their lungs in place of breath. I wish to swim amongst the corpses of the drowned, and feel the silence therein.
I have always believed that any sense of permanence - any attempt to avoid change or flux or chaos - is foolhardy. But I think upon this we agree: the alliance striving for the "good" or the "beautiful" or the "permanent" is not only idiotic - it is false. It is false, and weak, and cowardly. They strive to make the world knowable - to make it understandable and therefore mastered. They seek to eliminate doubt, fear, confusion. They try to replace them with certainty, justice, and "truth". The concept of truth is not just a lie - it is the corruption that rots the body intellectual. It is the flesh that needs to be hacked away in order to preserve growth. These humans cling to decay to avoid progress. They are naught but rotting teeth. The only way for them to relinquish their death-grip on false pretenses is suffering.
I aim to make the world suffer.
This world was not build upon the permanent. Existence is flux, and it is not inclined to humor the weak who cower in a corner and tell fairy tails of justice...or goodness...or the light.
Existence owes no one respect because life itself cannot respect. I care not for the ideals of my childhood - when I was raised in the church of the light - and I bear these falsities no ill will. Humans praise the good because they cannot face the fear that they are wrong. That they are alone. That nothing truly maters.
And this is why you and I align. You believe in the mandate. You believe in peace through annihilation. I believe that the false human idols, the empty prayers of the reactive, weaker intellects - they not only ring hollow but disrupt the natural chaos of the world. We are harmed because they cling to these life rafts. The world is worse off because humans, night elves, dwarves, and gnomes remain in it. Their weakness is an affliction, and their religion, their hopes and dreams, their life blood is a cancer that needs to be cut from the body. They need to be annihilated.
I...no...we...We can be the scalpel that removes this tumor.
Perhaps I have misinterpreted your mandate. But I would like to study further. I would like to learn what drives this great institution further. And perhaps our goals align for just a short period - but then again, perhaps there is much more to discuss. I shall await your response to my application.
Respectfully submitted,
-Henry Rutherford Chumbus."
The twisted corpse leans back in his chair, his empty sockets contorted in contemplation.
"Yes, I hope to forge an association. I am the outstretched, grasping hand. Mayhaps...mayhaps...mayhaps."
A shrill, angry voice bursts into the Warlock's focus. "Just...let me...n-t-r-o-d-u-c-k-s-h-u-n-s...errr...how did the rest of it go?" asked the imp.
Vexed, motionless, Chumbus sighs deeply.
Some hours later, Laznik re-materializes in the guild hall. Straightening his clip-on bow tie, he bows deeply and extends the letter of intent for the guild review.
Chumbus
Moderator: Officers
Re: Chumbus
Ruuki had just returned to the office from the battlefield when she came across the imp awaiting her return. She arched an eyebrow- most demons that found themselves in her office didn't bother with feigning civility such as this one. Indeed, she typically had to threaten their masters to take the damned things out as their brimstone stench added to the lingering odors of Khorvis made it almost unbearable. She took the parchment, opening it and reading over its lengthy contents.
"What is it with warlocks and being long winded..." she grumbled mostly to herself as she sat at the desk. After giving the letter a second read-through, she finally penned her reply.
"Chumbus,
You have it correct. The Alliance are just as much a plague on the world as the Legion, and both must be thoroughly eradicated. But it is for more than sowing chaos- it is for providing a future for the Horde, to return to them the land and resources the Alliance think they have claim to. It is for ensuring those that come after us do not have to fight as we do, or face the same horrors we have.
We fight because we alone know the truth of the world, and we alone have the strength to see our missive through.
The Mandate is the guiding light, illuminating the path that is laid before us. There is no one true path, but a common goal among us all. You will find many from all different walks of life and circumstances among our ranks, but it is our directive that unites us.
The Inquisition gathers each Monday at 8 by the Goblin clock, though the locations change. The next meeting will be at the Wyvern's Tail in Orgrimmar. There we will decide your fate among us.
-Ruuki the Reborn
High Inquisitor of the Grim"
She rolled the parchment into a scroll, sealed it with blood red wax and stamped it with the sigil of the Grim. She eyed the imp while she waited the few moments for the wax to harden before handing it back.
"Take this back to your master, and do not dawdle."
"What is it with warlocks and being long winded..." she grumbled mostly to herself as she sat at the desk. After giving the letter a second read-through, she finally penned her reply.
"Chumbus,
You have it correct. The Alliance are just as much a plague on the world as the Legion, and both must be thoroughly eradicated. But it is for more than sowing chaos- it is for providing a future for the Horde, to return to them the land and resources the Alliance think they have claim to. It is for ensuring those that come after us do not have to fight as we do, or face the same horrors we have.
We fight because we alone know the truth of the world, and we alone have the strength to see our missive through.
The Mandate is the guiding light, illuminating the path that is laid before us. There is no one true path, but a common goal among us all. You will find many from all different walks of life and circumstances among our ranks, but it is our directive that unites us.
The Inquisition gathers each Monday at 8 by the Goblin clock, though the locations change. The next meeting will be at the Wyvern's Tail in Orgrimmar. There we will decide your fate among us.
-Ruuki the Reborn
High Inquisitor of the Grim"
She rolled the parchment into a scroll, sealed it with blood red wax and stamped it with the sigil of the Grim. She eyed the imp while she waited the few moments for the wax to harden before handing it back.
"Take this back to your master, and do not dawdle."