Grim Views

Eerily there comes a package, to one of the darker Inquisitors It is about the size of a small horse.

On it is a note,

"Ha ha ha ha,

I was told by one of your guild that this might be Funny for me to join. I'm all about the laughing.

I am the Deathknight Spineflayer, Slave of the Frozen Wastes."

There is a smudge of blood a smell of alcohol and was that spit on the letter?

"Within is not for the feint of heart. Though if you show it to a soft-hearted one, I want to hear the story over a drink. what is within? Proof I have what it takes to work for the Grim.

If you can't laugh you die. Peace through annihilation? I hope there is no peace only annihilation, 'cause that to me is peace.

Honestly I don't care if I am in the guild, I just want to run with you and laugh at the Fel idiots that think they can stand against us."

Whomever looks in the package finds an appalling number of body parts. Hearts ears, tongues, Finger tips. Wrapped in Silk. some have etchings of orcish on them. Most look like alliance about 20% of them look like they may have been infested with Fel. The pieces with Fel look like they are barely holding together, one can tell they were slain recently but the pieces look like they have been desiccated for over 10 years.

Looks upwards of 500 pieces "Trophy" style.


~Spineflayer (Frost Deathknight LVL 60)

"Doot da dooo."

"Doot doot. Pow!"

"Pow pow POW!"

"GYUUUURRRGHHHH!! MY EYE SOCKET DO BE CLEAVED! URGH! Urgh ... ugh... I die."

Khorvis finished smashing the severed ear with the half-finger, fleshy gore soaking the Desk of Resolve. This was obviously not the first miniature battle taking place upon his desktop, what with the remains of several other trophies jumbled in a corner pile.

Tossing the loser into the mass grave, the High Inquisitor dipped the victor into his well of incarnadine ink and penned a response.

"Aspirant Spineflayer,

Your bloodlust has made for many hours of respite for my weary humors. For this, you do be commended. Seek out the Inquisition and learn if you truly do desire the annihilation of the Horde's enemies. No adherent of the Mandate goes untested.

I do have little care if you succeed in your trials or are left a broken wretch, suitable only for pity and alms along the roadside of the Drag. Yet, it would be a waste to scrap such a skillful collector of trinkets... Yes, seek out the Inquisition. There do be work for you, deathknight.

High Inquisitor Bloodstar"

Khorvis, upon his way to the exit of the Grim Halls, dumped the grave of losing trophies into Inquisitor Lilliana Bloodshine's mail-locker, wiped his gauntlets upon his tabard, and passed through the dark gates.

*Written in blood it appears on his desk it is a letter, but it is a little colder than room temperature not much though.* "Ha ha ha ha, If I am left broken let my foe end my miserable existence. If I am left in pieces let my blood and soul be born anew. Let my laughter put fear into my foes and vigor into my bretheren. Let a veteran of the laughing skull bring laughter to the inquisitors. Or the spirits no longer watch me through the hard times. Peace through Annihilation Lok'Tar Ogar Brother."