Grim Views

"So, Nicoleta, you have business with me, yes? Where does one go for a drink in this wretched city?" Malebrignon spoke to her through his hearthstone while riding slowly through the streets if Silvermoon.

"Oh, my. You really don't want anything to do with the Silvermoon Inn. Nothing but commoners and Haris Pilton wanna-bes. Join me at the country club outside town."

The ride to Farstrider's Retreat was blissfully short. A combination of sunshine and abundance of color was already beginning to well up a bright spot of pain within his skull. After dismounting and walking the entirety of the building, he found the Blood Knight waiting attentively at the back of the place. They sipped appletinis while exchanging pleasantries and idle chit-chat for a few moments before getting to the heart of the visit.

"Alright, Nic. You asked me here for a reason. What is it?"

"I have been offered a position as headmistress for Silvermoon University. I realize that Meike and I still owe you money, but..."

"Think nothing of it. Your debt was repaid long ago. I neglected to mention it as it was a useful tool to keep you around. I would not stop you from such an opportunity."

"It was repaid? I will be having choice words with my accountants." she said with a frown.

"I must inquire, though, how do you expect to turn a profit from an institution of learning? It has been my experience that they actually absorb money. They devour gold at a rate faster than Uthgra devours gnome."

"I will go with what I know. I will use our sports teams to bring us revenue via ticket sales, concessions, merchandising and the like."

"So, when can we see this team? Or is it teams? Did you inherit anything to work with? Need a coach? I know a good coach." Brig grinned inwardly. Maybe this would be a good opportunity to push ol' three-fingers out of the way.

"All I have is a bunch of pasty elves. To be honest, I was going to ask you a favor. I need ringers!"

"I am not familiar with the term. Ringers?"

"Well, I plan to stock the team with a bunch of thugs and killers to let loose on the field. We can't lose, and winning increases profits, thus paying for things like thug-upkeep and keeping the school open. Not to mention lining my own pockets." Both of them grinned smugly at this.

"Oh! I see now. You want the louts that occupy the same ten square feet of Shattrath day in and day out."

"Shattrath...Silvermoon. I doubt they'll notice the difference in their accustomed booze-addled state. And since they are technically your assets, I'm sure we can arrange for a percentage to be paid..."

"It pleases me to hear you mention my percentage before I brought it up myself," Brig interrupted with a wicked grin. "I can definitely throw some of the least profitable your way. Dewce and Fatty come to mind immediately. I know you probably hoped to escape them in your new role, but I believe their destiny lies with yours."

"Like a reoccuring rash," she spoke softly. "Boy, just keeping Uthgra fed is going to seriously cut into profits..."

"I recommend you draw up contracts for them. Nothing says you cannot add an "exercise" or "weight-limit" clause to the fat orc's."

"Good idea, but I don't think he can read."

"Who cares? He can sign. That is all that matters."

"Okay. What about Dewce? He is angry, sullen, and uncontrollable."

Malebrignon's eyes lit with a brief flare of anger. "He does not fail. Point him in the right direction and the job is done, be it assasination, espionage, arsen... the list goes on. Do not take him lightly."

"Oh, I won't deny that, but his attitude stinks. Down-time with him is nearly unbearable."

"Hmmm... a muzzle, maybe?" He noticed Nicoleta making notes on a small pad of paper.

"Perhaps we can separate him from the others. House him with the leper gnomes who will make and repair our uniforms."

"On to the issue of coins. I will ask for a small agent fee in exchange for the goons. One percent of each thug's earnings. A meager stipend, but more than enough to fund my research."

"Research? I can throw in unlimited access to our expansive libraries. I doubt they will see much use, definitely not at first. All kinds of dusty old books in there."

"Excellent. But you know I do nothing without seeing true profit. I take your meaning of "ringer" and I do have exclusive rights to one of the best I have ever seen. You may have her for your team, but I expect 30% of everything she earns you, including any individual merchandising using her name or image."

Nicoleta searched the old skeleton quizzically. "Color me intrigued!"

"I speak of my dog, Grooda, of course."

"Excellent! I'm sure she'll be quite the crowd pleaser. And at least she is marginally trained, unlike Dewce."

"And now, so I know what kind of profit to expect, I must ask a question. As unseemly as it may be for the headmistress to play, will you be participating in these games yourself?"

"I may have to enter myself, though I'd rather not. Somebody intelligent has to keep the jackals under control."

"Glad to hear it. I feel better knowing you will be there to keep my Grooda safe."

"Consider it done then."

Malebrignon paused thoughtfully until more flames flicked across his eye sockets. "Do NOT tell Grooda I was concerned for her safety."

"Oh, no worries there, " she said with a chuckle. "I never know how to talk to a girl that's covered in mud and brain matter anyway."

"Never could teach it to bathe... she used to bathe for Kante. But only for her, and Kante was gone from us long before you arrived." Another long pause. "Has it been that long since she's bathed? You folks with senses of smell must be driven mad by the stench!"

"Well, that is why I bought a full frontal helmet. That and not wanting to get smashed in the face. Between Grooda, Rhavan, Uthgra, Dewce.... the guildhouse is a wide array of offensive smells."

"What of Rhavan? He is nearly useless to me, might you take him, too? Or maybe Bacon...errr.. Bocan? Vidamina?" he sighed heavily. "I suppose we could mince over the list for hours. Offer contracts to those you would take. I will do my best to provide for the rest."

"Sounds good to me. I will have my financial advisor draw up paperwork for your royalties. "

"You do know that if you do this right I will be left with only a handful of mercs left to wrangle. This would have distressed me six months ago, but now is a good time for this to happen. I have laid the groundwork for another endeavor for over a year now and this frees me to bring those plans to fruition."

"That is not suprising," she spoke slyly. "To be honest, I have always wondered what a guy like you was doing leading a rowdy bunch of drunks and degenerates."

"Indeed. How can one of my power enjoy playing father-figure to adolescent adults? I will tell you: the Decimate faction was an experiment. There is, or rather 'was', a duality to me before we met. This other persona taught me a new method of manipulation in which you gain the love and trust of others through kindness. The theory being that compassion and understanding are leadership tools every bit as effective as fear.
Sadly, the experiment is a failure. My troops will follow me and support me fiercely, but they will not obey my orders. They have no discipline because they have no fear."

"So, back to fear?"

"Indeed. This experience with compassion has left me much wiser to the ways of the living and reminded me much of the past lives I had nearly forgotten. But mainly, I have a greater understanding of the power of fear than I have ever posessed, and believe me when I say I knew quite a bit about fear before this. I can say with all certainty now that it is the best option for dominance."

Nicoleta's eyes widened a bit but were quickly brought back under control. "Ah, then this makes it an opportune time for me to be leaving your employment, I suppose. Too bad for your next group of followers."

Malebrignon stood, gave Nicoleta a bow, and began walking to his horse. "I will miss our daily rapport, Nicoleta. I do, however, believe this new arrangement is best for the majority of us. Namely you and I." He added the last part with a soft chuckle.

"So, you are leaving?"

"Is there more to discuss? I will not tell you of the master plan."

"I suppose not, though you have piqued my curiosity...Then again, I enjoy sleeping at night."

"There is no need to return your tabards. Have the others burn them as they take up yours. I would prefer they not be left lying around to allow enemies to disguise themselves as friends."

"Thanks again!"

With a final nod to the blood knight, the skeletal form of Malebrignon mounted an equally skeletal horse and rode away.

The trip to Kargathia was long, especially without using the portals of Shattrath to reach Orgrimmar quickly, but Brig wanted the extra time to think. When he finally reached the guildhall beneath the Ashenvale-based outpost, darkness had fallen and the hall was abandoned. He went to his office and sat in broodish thought for the rest of the night and most of the following day, carefully compiling a list of loose ends to tie up.

The next several nights were spent approaching his various retainers individually to offer them advice on new career opportunities and in some cases offer them a chance to join with his next endeavor. Some were lost to the nether, though he was sure they might return. He withdrew the Master's Cane that controlled the guildhall and banished these as well as their belongings from the hall for their own protection. Their names would not be forgotten.

Finally sure that all preparations had been made, he unpacked a box of fire oil and applied it liberally throughout the main hall. Then he withdrew a pendant of arcane crystal from a small pouch tied to two of his ribs. The crystal, normally a soft amber, glowed with furious red energies. He could hear Braegor screaming from within it.

You can't do it, Cyrus! You can't destroy me! Destroying the crystal will only free me!

"And yet, I hear the fear in your voice, Braegor. You have no better idea of what will happen than I do. But I am certain of two things. One, I have completely removed you from this body and claimed it as my own. Two, I no longer desire your compassion or any other emotions I have drawn from you all this time. Your way is the path of failure. I do thank you for the experience. Oh, and for the body. Now, farewell, Ashladen."

Malebrignon swung his truncheon, a weapon of great elemental power, crashing down upon the crystal. The sonic energies unleashed instantaneously powdered the crystal and took most of its truesilver chain along with it. Sparks flew in all directions, igniting the fire oil and burning tiny holes in the skeleton's robes. He quickly enacted a magical shield and fled up the stairs.

Once he'd ridden to a safe distance, he watched the smoke curl upward for quite some time.

"At least the fool had the place built to the side of the keep instead of beneath it. I would not care to have to answer to Thrall for damaging Horde property of that magnitude."

Taking a last glance at the already dwindling smoke, he kicked Spike into action and rode for Splintertree.