Hastily written text by an impatient author

[Oralech Cinderfall]

Writing. Why did it always have to be letters with things like these? You never know a real person from letters- instead, all you get is a fake constructed by pretty words and the selfish desire to put one's best self forward.

There was just no replacing speaking in person, seeing their smallest reactions, and seeing what they're truly like. No matter how much they call you “Sir” or “Champion,” small sneers and flinches betray their true beliefs- and Oralech was something of a practiced hand when it came to drawing those out.

Being known as a battle-crazed thug helped too. For some reason, people thought that made him too stupid to understand their intents and became complacent. That often turned out to be their loss.

Ah well. Laeynna said it had to be done, and she knew those people best. Might as well get this over with.

----

To whoever deals with this,

Many of the Sin'dorei have forgotten what the humans have done to us. I have not. I stood with Prince Kael'thas as he fought their wars and fought impossible fights for Garithos. We beat back the Scourge when his lot could not. What did that earn us? A death sentence and a trip to the dungeons of Dalaran.

I still remember my rage as those manacles pressed onto my skin. Others may be distracted by Deathwing, the Dark Portal and the Burning Legion, but I know who the true enemy is.

----

“So did Garrosh...” Oralech mumbled, fiddling with his pen for a short moment. For all his madness, he knew that drastic measures were necessary. Theramore was proof of that. Shame that so many others shunned him for voicing such opinions after the Siege of Ogrimmar.

Still. This letter needed an end. Best to get to it.

----

Laeynna tells me that you people can use me in ways that will make the Alliance hurt most. Good. If you want me, consider me your man. Let's work together and burn the whole damn thing down.

Oralech Cinderfall

[Qabian]

Qabian's eyes went wide as he read over the letter. The words in it carried more surprise than any other the mage had received within memory. He stared at the page for a long time before he finally took up a pen to write a reply.

Oralech Cinderfall,

You and I once had matching sets of bracelets, although I was far less remarkable then, and I assume you were as well, so we likely have no reason to remember each other. Yet that shared circumstance and your use of that irrevocably human name as a curse rather assure me that you already know exactly what The Grim are all about, and are more than prepared to follow our Mandate. After all, that's how and why I came to find them myself years ago.

I would rather speak to you sooner than later, but I'm not certain I will be able to track you down before Sunday evening. Silvermoon, near the battlemasters in the Hall of Blood, at the 6th bell?

Yes. Let's burn the whole thing down. Let's.

Qabian Amberlight
High Inquisitor
The Grim

Qabian hesitated as he signed the name, without title, that he had used so many years ago in Dalaran, rather than the one he usually used with the changes he'd made to it in the time since, wondering if he would regret it. But something about the old signature seemed correct for this particularly remarkable case.

((Sunday, September 30th, 6pm server, Silvermoon, Hall of Blood, War Mode Off (just because I like seeing other players around). If you can't make it let me know, and if you'd like, I can probably do any time earlier on Sunday.))