Grim Views

Penned in the hull of cargo ship amidst crates of salted pork, casks of elven wine and kegs of dwarven ale
My fellow brethren of the Horde. I write this to you in hopes that my pledge to the cause does not go unlooked. I am travelling in the belly of an orc pirate ship from the lands of the bleeding hollow. I make my way to you and the twisting nether post haste. I could have easily stolen some coin to make passage the "normal" way but I hear that that behavior is ill advised amongst your members. Instead, I have stowed away with the help of a friend in the admiral's fleet. I wish to lend my blades in service of the Grim. I must lay low and assume a new identity in your new realm. you can find me in the belly of dalaran lingering in the shadows. I look forward to your correspondence. Dark lady watch over us all.

A scroll drops in the stranger's lap; a swirl of shadow out of the corner of one's eye is all there is to see of its deliverer. The stranger breaks the seal - a staff crossing a bloom of fel lotus - and reads the tidy, compact writing.

"Any behavior that furthers the Mandate is always appropriate. Let that be your first lesson.

We wish to speak with you further. Tomorrow night, seven o'clock. You will be told where shortly before the hour strikes.

In service,
Acherontia
Dreadweaver of the Grim"