A ghoul, strangely quiet and calm for the normally mindless dribbling beasts, waits with a letter held in one semi rotten hand. The ghoul will allow any in the hall to take the letter without fuss, and wait for a return letter for a time if the ghoul is not attacked or destroyed.
The letter is written on stiff parchment, in simple uniform script.
Salutations to the Grim,
The actions of the Alliance prove again and again that the dogs under that banner stand in the way of achieving peace as much as various threats that attack unceasingly. The Alliance dogs must be dealt with the same as the Legion, or the next threat that menaces Azeroth.
With the decision of the Ebon Blade to admit any death knights, even those of the Alliance, I no longer feel the organization is the proper association for the utilization of my abilities. I have heard of the Grim, and its unflinching stance on the Alliance. I wish to fight alongside of its people in the defense of the Horde and its citizens.
I am a combatant in the service of the Dark Lady, it is my belief that my knowledge of combat, as well as my expertise in the usage and creation of infections will be of value to the Grim and the Mandate in which they serve.
Currently, I am stationed in the Undercity whilst undergoing research, I may be reached through the city if an accord can be reached.
-Kirand Harlow
A ghoul clutching a letter.
Moderator: Officers
Re: A ghoul clutching a letter.
The deathknight known as Boneslave, erstwhile steward of Inquisitor Bloodstar's unmentionables, shambled through the Great Hall and accepted the ghoul's missive with a blank stare. It would be a dicey wager to specify which decaying creature was more besotted with the rigors of undeath. With a hapless moan, Edgar withdrew from the courier and slinked towards the halls of the Inquisition.
En route, Boneslave scanned the contents of the message with the twin dots of ghostly rage dwelling deep within his eyesockets. Another disgruntled knight seeking an audience with his illustrious masters, praise be their names. It was not the place of the lowly to assume the whims of the great, but Edgar had seen many such entreaties cross the Desk of Resolve. This Harlow had much to prove before any trust would be given.
Arriving at the High Inquisitor's chambers, he garbled the name of Ruuki and waited with the letter presented in outstretched limbs.
En route, Boneslave scanned the contents of the message with the twin dots of ghostly rage dwelling deep within his eyesockets. Another disgruntled knight seeking an audience with his illustrious masters, praise be their names. It was not the place of the lowly to assume the whims of the great, but Edgar had seen many such entreaties cross the Desk of Resolve. This Harlow had much to prove before any trust would be given.
Arriving at the High Inquisitor's chambers, he garbled the name of Ruuki and waited with the letter presented in outstretched limbs.
Re: A ghoul clutching a letter.
Ruuki looked up from her writing at the strangled whisper of her name, and closed the little book. It was not often of late that she saw Boneslave, not since Khorvis's disappearance, anyway. She took the letter from him and read it over, nodding slightly to herself.
"New friend of yours, Boneslave? I didn't think you were the type to have many of them." She set the letter down, grabbing parchment to pen a reply.
"Kirand Harlow,
Your words ring of truth- the Alliance is as great a threat to Peace as the Legion, and must be treated as such. It takes determination, and perseverance, and dedication in the pursuit of eradicating them in order to safeguard the future of the Horde. This is not an easy task, but there is glory to be had in our victories.
We gather at Azurewing Repose this coming Monday at 8 by the Goblin Clock. We will discuss your potential under the guidance of the Mandate.
-Ruuki the Reborn
High Inquisitor of the Grim"
She folded the parchment, sealed it with red wax and stamped the sigil of the Inquisition into it before handing it back to Boneslave.
"Here, take this to that Harlow friend of yours. He stated he could be found in Undercity, I expect you'll likely find him still there. And don't dawdle, I'll need you later for some work in Stormheim."
"New friend of yours, Boneslave? I didn't think you were the type to have many of them." She set the letter down, grabbing parchment to pen a reply.
"Kirand Harlow,
Your words ring of truth- the Alliance is as great a threat to Peace as the Legion, and must be treated as such. It takes determination, and perseverance, and dedication in the pursuit of eradicating them in order to safeguard the future of the Horde. This is not an easy task, but there is glory to be had in our victories.
We gather at Azurewing Repose this coming Monday at 8 by the Goblin Clock. We will discuss your potential under the guidance of the Mandate.
-Ruuki the Reborn
High Inquisitor of the Grim"
She folded the parchment, sealed it with red wax and stamped the sigil of the Inquisition into it before handing it back to Boneslave.
"Here, take this to that Harlow friend of yours. He stated he could be found in Undercity, I expect you'll likely find him still there. And don't dawdle, I'll need you later for some work in Stormheim."
Re: A ghoul clutching a letter.
"Your gracccccccccce..." With a deep bow and vile tonguing of the air, Edgar retreated from the High Inquisitor without ever showing his back. Having deprived himself of the Mandate's surest presence upon Azeroth, the deathknight slunk and scurried down the passageways most loathsome to the Alliance.
A task. A quest! To serve the master of the Master! The pulse upon which his orcly lordship set his wrothy watch! Truly a day by which the servant Edgar Matrim Hornridge might burnish his mettle.
Down the forgotten corridors he skulked until at last shadow became redundant as light was abolished. Boneslave turned and walked through the silhouette of what was.
...
Arriving in the Undercity, Edgar immediately sought out the one known as Harlow and made certain that the High Inquisitor's wishes were explicit.
A task. A quest! To serve the master of the Master! The pulse upon which his orcly lordship set his wrothy watch! Truly a day by which the servant Edgar Matrim Hornridge might burnish his mettle.
Down the forgotten corridors he skulked until at last shadow became redundant as light was abolished. Boneslave turned and walked through the silhouette of what was.
...
Arriving in the Undercity, Edgar immediately sought out the one known as Harlow and made certain that the High Inquisitor's wishes were explicit.