Grim Views

To denizen and conductor of The Grim:

(*In surprisingly elegant script.*)

There was once a boy. A boy born into
a life of luxury and a world of war.
Spoiled, stubborn, a pretentious little worm
silver spoon in mouth and a soldier's blade in hand.

I watched like a carrion crow
as he rode his horse high
looking down his nose as the lesser, paltry
varmint that wasted space. Corpses
of the future to an enemy's pleasure.

But he stumbled. He failed.
The pride bled from his eyes and down
his polished armor as crimson tears.
I swooped in to feast as he fell.

I ate at his savory memories.
Crawled into his battered carcass.
Unraveled his soul like a snipped thread.

Then I stood, wearing my new champion suit
with death's head grin.
I am now standing at your door.

And that is the story of how a feeble worm
became a beautiful butterfly...


(*It is signed with a swirling, refined signature.*)

Sevris Heartseeker

(That was awesome)

Nathandiel peers at the stretch of verse, his features curling with disgust.

"Weirdos." He declares. "This one especially."

"Oh great. More nonsense."

Ruuki huffed ass she took the note down from their bulletin board, reading it over and over again as she walked back to her desk in the Office of the Inquisition. Just trying to understand it was giving her a headache... perhaps the Lorekeeper could make more use of it than she could. She only really understood the last few lines. Grabbing pencil and parchment she wrote a reply.

"Heartseeker,

There is no need to go into fancy kodoshit, for Elven words matter little on the battlefield. If you truly wish to join our ranks, then show yourself tonight at the Inquisition in Orgrimmar at the Orphanage. We meet at seven by the Goblin clock. We will see what else you have to offer besides poetic nonsense.

-Inquisitor Ruuki the Reborn"