A Strip of Vellum

[Grotuk]

A young Zandalari raptor, barely so high as your ankles, sprinted past you while you were out on a mundane task - a mottled gray thing wearing a miniature, carved stone mask. Clutched amidst the bramble of its jutting fangs was a tightly wound roll of, judging by its frayed appearance, recycled vellum - bound with a red string. Without missing a beat, the raptor had dropped it at your feet just as it passed.

It read -

"Ya seem like ya know how to keep a good set of knives housed and fed. I got a good pair to offer ya should ya need. Da fella they come with to ain't too bad either - hek hek hek.

I not like to waste vellum. Write ya reply and ya terms on de back of this, and leave it on de ground. Me boy will be back for it.

P.S Maybe leave him a scrap a meat if he done a good job, ya? Positive enforcement be de best way to be trainin dese things."

[Khorvis]

Khorvis paused in the middle of his mundane field-kitchen task. Setting down his carving knife in the hardpacked Alterac snow, he bent low and scooped up the recycled vellum. He scanned the contents while wiping his bloody left hand on the apron that stretched across his bulky stomach.

"Another set of knives? My guess do be a shadow, like Zalanjo or Addikus Grace. Hrmm..."

The orc pondered the first line again. More mouths to feed, just as the cold set in. The Grim Halls had plenty of space in its warren of caves, but... Food was becoming scarce as the farmers had retreated behind city walls during this onslaught of the Scourge. Khorvis had been forced to break open provisions from the root cellars: tins of pickled voidfin, salted talbuk, and a large barrel of some gelatinous ooze labelled "CAUTION - Reconstituted Ravager Roe", though he suspected it was counterfeit.

Still, every extra set of competent hands willing to commit to the Mandate could not be discounted. The warrior flipped the vellum over, now also stained with red blood. Deciding to embrace the spirit of sustainability, he dipped his gnome-bone pen in the congealing liquid and quickly scribbled a response.

Stranger,

You did not give a name, but likely you do know ours. The Grim will know a good set of knives when we see one. Seek out the Inquisition in Tarren Mill and we will find out if you do have what we require.

High Inquisitor Bloodstar

Bending over again, Khorvis went to pass off the letter to the tiny, masked raptor, but paused with a thought. Picking up his carving knife, he slid it into the thigh meat of the dwarf he had been butchering. A fresh kill, the muscle had not yet stiffened in the mountain cold. The orc tossed a walnut-sized chunk of flesh to the little courier as a reward, then turned over the missive.

As the Commander had said before, nothing goes to waste, and winter was here.