Grim Views

*A Letter Written in Crimson Blood arrives Via Carrier-Plaguebat*

Bal'a dash, malanore,

My name is Mai'kull, Surnames are meaningless to me at this point, but note I hail from both
the Sin'Dorei and Forsaken Banners. I write to you to inquire admission into your most...esteem
society, "The Grim". Tales have reached me of your faction and as I have awoken from a long
slumber without any sight or sound of my former cohorts, I seek solace and refuge among your kind.

A little about me, I was born in Quel'Thalas shortly before the Third War, and trained as a Mage
in Dalaran, which in part is the reason I survived the Scourge's Invasion. I returned home and
followed our then Leader Prince Kael'thas into Outland to do what I could to help our people recover.

I soon found myself at odds with our beloved prince gone mad, and returned home.
I was delighted to find Ranger-General Sylvanas had survived, despite the circumstances, and did not
falter away from our Forsaken Brethren who were offered a new lease on life, despite the social out casting
that came with my allegiances.

I lived a fairly active life. Fought alongside my countrymen against our fallen prince and re-sparked the
Sunwell, and Fought the Armies of the Undead Scourge and the Litch King himself. It was after this I devoted
my life to Lady Sylvanas, willingly taking the plague into myself and being one of the first resurrected by
the powers of the Val'kyr.

Many Question my madness, however I have never seen a difference between the Forsaken and the Sin'Dorei, and
I have always been loyal to Sylvanas. When asked, It was my honor to serve her once again. Don't get me wrong,
Im not a fan of my skin disorder, and some have commented that in death I have gained a sense of dementia, however
the voices in my head keep telling me not to listen to such negativity.

In Death I still serve the Horde, Primarily under Lady Sylvanas and the Forsaken Armies. I serve in Logistics and
Tactics, as well as the random "Kickem while he is down" brigade. My heart still resides in Silvermoon
(Figuratively and Literally) as I will always be of the Children of the Blood. I do my best to keep up appearances
when the opportunity arises. I may not be the strongest, but Ill be damned if anything keeps me from my goals.

I do hope you will consider me for admission. As where burning human and Filthy Kal'Drorei villages tickles
my fancy, its so much easier to take on larger targets with a group of like minded individuals.

Respectfully
Mai'Kull

Ruuki sat down at her desk to read the waiting letter, taking a moment to regroup her thoughts between battles against the invading Legion demons. She frowned slightly, realizing it was an entire life story placed onto paper, and read through it all before penning her reply.

"Mai'kull,

Appearances do not matter in the grand scheme of things, only our service to the Horde. Our destruction of our enemies is never random, but rather precise in their strategic worth. You are correct, however, that larger targets are best taken down in greater numbers.

Seek us out this coming Monday, between 7 and 9 by the Goblin Clock, in the Hall of the Brave in Orgrimmar. There we will see if you have what it takes to follow the orders of the Mandate.

-Inquisitor Ruuki the Reborn"

Mai'kull finishes reading the reply, and crumbles up the paper into one of his many pockets. He reaches into another adjacent pocket and pulls out a Gyrochronatom, gazing at the mechanism for a moment before nodding "Few days time..." he mutters aloud.

Orgrimmar...He hadn't spent much time there. Not so much by choice as it was circumstance, yet he was still familiar enough with most of the major cities. Many memories were lost in his recent slumber, but the important bits remained.

With a brief incantation, Mai'kull found himself in the Cleft of Shadow. It took a moment for him to get his bearings straight before heading topside into the city. Everyone was always in a rush, flying around or running, he preferred to take his time, walking, taking in the scenery...blame the Silvermoon still left in him.

It wasn't long before he found his way past the Drag and into the Valley of Honor. The Hall of the Brave wasn't hard to spot, least after they rebuilt it he could tell it apart from all the other damn Orcish buildings in the city.

Interior, three stories. Closed off from the sky, two entrance points; Main Entrance from the ground, and small doorway on second tier with a giant brazier blocking the viewpoint. Valley of Honor was inside the curve of a rock formation, notable high-ground, and from the south east ledge he could watch the main and 2nd floor entrances. This was noteworthy as ground forces would never spot him, however...

The Lone Orgrimmar Wind Rider flew past. One Air Patrol per valley, Three per District, and the Roving 5 man squadron for the city...most traffic would come from the sky where the ledge would leave him with a giant "Bomb Me" sign plastered to his hat.

Those pandas seemed to have set up shop in the Valley as well, he could see a hot-air balloon hovering overhead. He considered hiding there, but after a brief examination he could see the panda's young inside, highly doubt he could remain concealed in that for long, looked cramped.

Entering the building his memories began to slowly return. First floor full of Training Orcs, Training Dummies, large open space...too open for his liking. The second story's interior was small and seemed more for storage, leading to the second tier's balcony and more training dummies.

The third story was more to his liking. Choke-point at the stairs, completely enclosed. Throw a portal prior for an escape route. His boney fingers traced along the war table before something in his mind snapped.

"Meet at the Goblin Clock..." He didn't recall seeing any highly complex, highly explosive devices that went -tick-. He was previously a Gnomish-Engineer, thankfully all that information was gone, leaving him a clean slate again to pick up the profession, but he knew well enough most Goblin made items were explosive prone.

Mai'kull doubled back along each floor looking and listening, No clocks. Hammock's, Boxes that don't go boom, and a bunch of Zug-heads, but no goblin engineering. Shit...did he miss something. He pulled the letter back out, smoothing it along a wall and read it again.

"by the Goblin Clock, in the Hall of the Brave"

Nope...clear as a plague vile. Shit. He took solace in the fact that most traffic in and out were from dominatrix clad green-skins with axes, and all others either groped a training dummy or quickly left. Shouldn't be hard to spot someone deliberately lurking around...like he was right now.

"FRANK!" he screamed. An orc laying on one of the hammock's stirred in its sleep. a shrunken wretched elf came clambering into the hall. 'yes masters? masters call frank?' it creaked. Mai'kill folded a small note and handed it to the wretch, "Find this Inquisitor Ruuki, deliver this letter, DONT fail me." he barked.

The servant shivered and bowed as it took the letter from his hand and scampered off. He knew it would end up in the right hands eventually, Mana-addicted fiends had a way of accomplishing a task, no matter how difficult or impossible when they knew their vice was a reward.

Mai'kull had planning to do. He wanted to make sure he got the drop on this meeting, not the other way around. And with his vault of goodies hollowed out during his sleep, it was going to take a bit more tact to accomplish. It wasn't a matter of fear, but one of principle...and maybe a little bit of showing off.

[[The letter simply reads "Acknowledged"]]