A large package.
Posted: Wed Sep 24, 2014 4:33 am
A seemingly inconspicuous crate has arrived at the entrance of The Grim Headquarters. One would roughly guess the size of a gnome, in both height and weight. A scrolled parchment is attached to its lid, bearing a green wax seal and bearing a strange marking; a lone eye that looks to be dripping blood, cut through its center with a jagged bolt of lightning.
You break the seal and the parchment spills forth, the writing upon it is simple and plain.
"Leaders of the Grim.
I am Cobrak. Your name has been on the tongues on many of the Alliance's dogs recently...until I cut them out, that is. I find myself in need of pack to hunt with, and word has it your prey is Alliance...Same as mine. Seek the enemy of your enemy, and you will find a friend, they say. I will not brag or boast my accomplishments, for words alone cannot do what actions can. The crate will do this for me. if this pleases you, send your response to the Wyvern's Tail Tavern....They know me there."
The crate's lid is easily cracked open, several strange lumps wrapped in varying cloths are stacked unorderly about. One such cloth bears the standard of Stormwind, its golden lion defaced with red. As you pick it up, it begins to unravel, a bloodied tabard now rests in your hands....and a human head at your feet. Another of the foul-smelling packages is adorned with a pair of hammers, a Wildhammer's head rolling out of its clutches. The process is repeated, each an Alliance racially-diverse head encased in the symbol of their country.
You break the seal and the parchment spills forth, the writing upon it is simple and plain.
"Leaders of the Grim.
I am Cobrak. Your name has been on the tongues on many of the Alliance's dogs recently...until I cut them out, that is. I find myself in need of pack to hunt with, and word has it your prey is Alliance...Same as mine. Seek the enemy of your enemy, and you will find a friend, they say. I will not brag or boast my accomplishments, for words alone cannot do what actions can. The crate will do this for me. if this pleases you, send your response to the Wyvern's Tail Tavern....They know me there."
The crate's lid is easily cracked open, several strange lumps wrapped in varying cloths are stacked unorderly about. One such cloth bears the standard of Stormwind, its golden lion defaced with red. As you pick it up, it begins to unravel, a bloodied tabard now rests in your hands....and a human head at your feet. Another of the foul-smelling packages is adorned with a pair of hammers, a Wildhammer's head rolling out of its clutches. The process is repeated, each an Alliance racially-diverse head encased in the symbol of their country.