Flowing Script by Lelenia

[Keeper Of Lore]

Chaindog raises an eye brow as the letter is destroyed. She then walks out the door not sparing anyone so much as a glance.

She goes to where the tracks are around the side of the hall. She takes a second or two to study them in detail and then stands. She stares down at the tracks then back to the door. She sighs and then destroys all trace of the elven tracks. She then heads out of Orgimmar weary and tired.

[Keeper Of Lore]

From a spot in the shadows, Ashagga watches it all. As Chingaso leaves, she hurries to catch up, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"It's all right, Chingaso... whatever it is. Don' let Chaindog get yer down. I trust yer, an' so does the rest o' the Grim!"

With a smile, she turns, letting her newly adopted big brother resume his departure. "You ever need 'elp wif anyfing, you let me know, right? Anyfing at all."

[Keeper Of Lore]

After leaving the guild hall, Chaindog begins to hunt.

First, she needs something strictly night elven. Her hand idly reaches up to her hair as she gentle caresses a feather she has tied there. She's been collecting feathers her whole life starting with a gryphon feather near her home in Revantusk. She has heard rumors of the Strigid owls in Darnassus. Their feathers are unique to them.

Chaindog heads for the birdie master in Orgrimmar and gets a flight to Valormor Post in Felwood. The flight is short. She heads down to the falls and takes a look. It's a long way down. "No guts, no glory." she says as takes a few steps back, and then runs at it. Her dive is long and graceful. THe splash is small. The continues as she makes her down to the forest floor of Darkshore.

She summons her mount and heads for Auberdine. She crests a hill near the town and waits patiently as she gazes out to the docks for the arrival of the ship. Upon seeing it on the horizon she steels herself and spurs her mount into action. The ride through AUberdine of sheer chaos. No one really notices her as she clears the rise and heads to the inn. That changes though as she bursts throught the door way, makes a sharp turn up the ramp, and runs down the innkeeper. Papers go flying everywhich way, the poor elf morning the loss of his beloved wife finds himself in the drink as her raptor should checks him off the dock.

By now, most of the guards are in full pursuit, as she makes the last turn down the docks. She sees the ship start to move and angles for the last possible area on the docks. As she reaches it, her mount jumps and lands on the deck leaving the guards behind. She notices a small elf standing there beside her. He's staring at her in shock. She looks down from her 7 foot height to the elf and makes two gestures. The first, is that of pointing off the ship. The second is a finger dragged across her throat. The elf opts for the first choice and jumps off the ship.

The ship is fast and her arrival is unexpected but she knows that won't last for long. She scouts from the dock. She sees no city though. Unsure of what to do she watches an elf pop out of some glowing field under a tree. Since there is nowhere else to go she rides down the dock and runs straight for the glowing thing under the tree. The trip through was instant and unexpected. Without breaking a step she heads for the outskirts of the city. The time for causing mayhem is over and more subtlety is needed.

Making her way around to the north she finds little to none in the way of guards. She then skirts the guards at the entryway and out into Teldrassil. The road is clear mostly to the Dolanaar with the exception of the 3 guards on cats. Finding the owls is easy. Thery're everywhere. She spends a little time hunting them and then choosing the best feather. A Strigid Owl Feather. That will do nicely for what she needs. She ties the feather into her hair to join her collection.

As she's about to hearth to Orgrimmar, but she smells something foul in the air. She stops and looks around. She can't believe her eyes. A demon. Albeit a weak one she stares at it. Then to her horror, a night elf walks up to it. The two start talking. Chaindog can't understand what they're saying but pays attention anyway. Soon the elf heads off and she follows the elf. The starts gathering a few things, something from an owl, a panther, and spider. The elf runs back and the demon rewards the elf! The elves have demon masters? What the?

With that little bit of excitement over, she hearths to Orgrimmar. She smells alcohol immediately upon arrival. A troll near her laughs, points at her and says, "ha ha, feathers!"

Chaindog's hand tightens into a first and she punches him in the face. THe punch lands just to the right of his nose from her perspective. The left knuckle crushes the side of his nose. Blood explodes as a cracking sound is made. The right knuckle slams into the soft tender part of his face known as the eyeball. It makes a sinking feeling in his skull as the eyeball is violently shoved backward. The troll's head snaps backward as blood is upwards into the air and hits a support strut made of lumber. There's another cracking sound as either the skull or the lumber splits. The troll slumps to the floor.

An orc standing nearby says, "Oh no! Me thinks you killed him!"

"So?" comes the reply from Chaindog.

She turns and walks out of the inn and summons her mount. She exits the city and catches a ride to Grom'gol. Then to Stonard. She wanders outside of the walls to the Stonard Cartographer.

"Greetings" she says quietly. She knows him and he doesn't like to be startled.

He looks up from his current peice of work and says, "Ah! Chaindog, one of my favorite explorers. What brings you by lass? I didn't ask for you I don't think. Maybe I did. Or didn't I?"

"Nay my friend, I come of my reasons. I have need of your skill with a quill. I need something drawn. Do you have time for my request?"

"Aye I might." says the cartographer. "You have payment?"

Chaindog reaches into her pack and pulls out a pouch and hand it to him. "Gnome giblets, fresh from the battlefield this morning."

"Ah, most excellent." He reaches in and pulls one out. Holding between a finger and a thumb he gently squeezes it for tenderness. "Oh, very excellent indeed." He then delicately sticks it on tongue and slides it into his mouth.

Chaindog's stomach get queezy and she turns her head away from the sight.

"So wut iss it you need dun." he says with food still in his mouth.

"I need this," as she pulls the Strigid Owl Feather from her hair, "drawn on a sheet of parchment along with the symbol of the Grim. I need three of them done please."

"Three? Hey, I heard about this goblin in Gadgetzan that has a device that makes copies. I could make you one and you could get the copies made there." says the orc.

"I trust goblins like I trust gnomes. Kickable." says Chaindog.

"I tried those ones." he says as he gestures at the bag. "Not even close in flavour."

Chaindog is obviously revolted, "Oh my word, I didn't need to know that!"

The cartographer's face screws up and he pokes himself in the belly rather hard. A roaring belch urupts from him. "Tastes great, but oh the gas." says the orc as his face returns to normal.

Chaindog's hand immediately goes to her nose. Most foul.

"I need three sheets of fine parchment. You can get those from the summoners near Dalaran. You know, the big glowing pink thing? Wait a minute, what I am telling you for? You've been almost everywhere now. Go get them." says the orc cartographer as he gets backto work.

The flight to Tarren Mill was a long journey, but peaceful. After killing some summoners for a while, Chaindog mutters to herself. "Hmm, no parchment, it shouldn't be that rare. I do have a hand full of these odd coins though." She notices a chest nearby. "You don't suppose?" and she opens the chest with the odd coin. Inside she finds a sheet of fine parchment. "A little more clarification would of have been just dandy you know." She says to no one in particular.

After flying back to Stonard and getting the parchment to the Cartographer, Chaindog gets some long needed sleep. The next day she gathers her newly crafted sheets of parchment from the cartographer and flies to Booty Bay.

As soon as the birdie hits the ground, she rolls to the wall behind the flight master just as an arrow misses her. "Bloody snipers." she says with disgust. "It's no wonder we're at war, the dishonourable assholes can't keep their word or the peace." She sees the goblin guard just standing there and yells at it. "You're fucking useless you gnome cousin!!"

Chaindog runs for the bank and jumps off the platform, lands on the roof, and slides off behind some crates. A few more arrows and this time a bullet narrowly miss her. She gazes up at the bullet hole in the wall of the bank. "At least you can hit the barn!" she yells. She reaches over and tacks a parchment to the bulletin board next to the bank. Chaindog hearths out to Orgrimmar.

Her flight takes her to Everlook. A more peaceful place, she has no problem getting this parchment up here. The next flight is extremely long and Chaindog is bordering on saddlesore when she arrives.

Upon arriving at the flight master in Gadgetzan, habit has her chucking a flare over her shoulder upon arrival. She hears a bonk and an "ow" from behind. She spins on reflex and immediately wing clip him. The flare hit right in the head. She snaps out a kick to the side of his knee and it bends inward and sideways. There's a popping sound, some ripping and tearing of ligaments and tendons. The human rogue lets out a soundless scream.

Chaindog grabs him, throws him face down in the sand and then straddles his back and pins his head into the sand with her hands. The human, already out of air from his scream struggles but can't get her off. His lungs betray him and he starts to choke, then breathes in sand. He goes into convulsions and dies a pain, but sandy, death. "Honourless asshole." Chaindog says as she gets up. She sees a gnome mage nearby who just watched the whole thing. Chaindog makes a threatening gesture and the gnome fumbles his port spell but gets it the second time.

She sneaks up to the entrance way of Gadgetzan and takes a peek at the roof of the inn. To her surprise, there's a tauren warrior on the roof and a dead gnome in robes at his feet. "Heh, I'm guessing mage, and that's what happens when the mage has no room to run." she laughs as she walks into town. She walks to inn and looks up at the tauren. He's seething with rage. Chaindog mutters "I guess the warrior got sick of getting shot at." She throws a salute at the tauren who pays her no heed as he glares at the corpse of the gnome daring it to come back to life.

Chaindog tacks the parchment to the wall of the inn and heads inside for a rest. She seats herself in a chair against a wall. She doens't know who or what delivered the letter to Chingaso, but maybe the elf will put two and two together and note that the parchment with the Grim symbol and the drawing of the Strigid Owl Feather match the feather that Chaindog is obvisouly wearing in her hair.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Slender fingers run along the parchment tacked on the board in Gadgetzan. A few days since it had been posted, she though, judging by the wear on the paper in the desert sun. Any half-blind elf could identify the feather drawn carefuly on the sheaf, and next to it, the guild symbol of the Grim was obvious enough to any.

"What in Eliestre's name?" she whispered, rubbing her face down. Most would look at this message as just another attempt, maybe a signal for the Grim to attack Darnassus...but with the time passing since the post, and no such report of an attack, that was far from efficient. No, either the Grim had a new edict against Striged Owls, or someone in the Grim was trying to contact an elf...seeing as very few even attempt to contact the guild of slaughter and death, she was most likely the one they wanted to talk to.

Deftly, she took down the sheaf, the tack making a small rip at the top, and went into the goblin-run tavern. Ordering a drink, she fished around in her pack, pulling out the small travel kit she carried. That half smile flits across her lips.

"Well, being a co-founder in a guild of lorekeepers has *some* benifit" she mutters to nobody.

Popping the lid off the firm tube, she pulls out a well-used quill and a bottle half-full of ink, setting them down on the table. Studying the message again, she takes a sip of Morning Glory Dew, pondering how best to transmit her message without using words. Tired, she leans down, laying her forhead on the sheaf, eyes closed for a brief rest from the brightness of the dunes.

Sitting up again, her eyes open, one hand reaching out to pick up the quill. Looking at the page, she notices some of the ink had become smudged...then curses quietly as she rubs the ink off her forhead. "Damnable sun, can't get away from the heat. Stink of sweat for a week after this"

Dipping her quill, she deftly draws the symbol of Mythos overlaying the owl feather, figuring that would communicate both what group the elf belonged to, and that the message had been recieved. Beneath that, she scrawled some runes that she knew all too well, crawling up the sides of the monolithic spires of Silithus at the north-west Twilight camp. Rubbing her eyes for a moment, she dips the quill again, then moves off to the right of the runes, painstakingly sketching a calendar for the next two months, putting small open circles on the days she was certain that the dunes would be her home. With the work in her guild lately, those were few and far between...but still at least once on each cycle.

Wiping her pen off on a small cloth, she puts away the traveling kit, swallows down the rest of her drink, and tosses a few coins on the table. Back out into the blazing sun, blowing softly on the ink to try and make it dry faster, she pauses, face still inches from the surface, and laughs again. One would think that, in a dessert, the ink would dry fast enough on it's own.

Shaking her head, she laughs again. "Hells, the blowing sand will even blot it for me."

Pulling the tack out of the board, she pins the modified note up, holding onto it firmly a moment more, observing her handywork. Shrugging, she walks off to the flight master. Apparently they needed her in the Spire again, and her key she had made. Behind her, the note blows softly in the wind, her palmprint drying quickly in the sun.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Chingaso ride to Everlook. Small dragon in spire of Blackrock ask Chingaso bring scale back to matron. Chingaso know dragons will try to protect matron even though Chingaso mean no harm, so Chingaso mental prepare for battle. Arrive in Everlook, Chingaso check message boards for anything of interest. What Chingaso see leave genuinely puzzle.

Parchment with drawing of feather, feather of elf owl Chingaso think, with Grim seal. "What this mean?" Chingaso think to self. Chingaso look around for goblin to threaten into tell who put note, but no goblin near. So Chingaso wonder...

Maybe Chingaso ask Pincus or other Irredeemable about note...

[Keeper Of Lore]

After a long day of fighting in Feralas, Chaindog arrives in Gadgetzan to check on the note she left posted. It had been untouched for days. But today was different, there was some kind of drawing on it. Chaindog looked around to see if anyone was watching and didn't see anyone paying particular attention her as she neared the note. She took it down and looked closer at it. Not recognizing the drawing she instead sniffed it.

"Whoa, that's strong." She comments to no one in particular. She sniffs it again, memorizing the scent for recognition later. "Yeah, that's her alright." She folds the note away and turns to leave. "Need to get the others." She heads for the flight master and catches a flight to Ratchet. Her arrival in Booty Bay is unusual as she is unacosted this time. She snatches the parchment, notices nothing different of it, and hearths to Orgrimmar. She then flies to Everlook.

Upon landing she notices Chingaso on track and immediately uses aspect of the beast to hide her. She sneaks to an archway leading into Everlook and spies Chingaso at the board where her note is. "Shit." she mutters. She turns and sprints to the flightmaster and catches a ride to Thunderbluff. She decides to leave aspect of beast on her from now on.

Once she arrives in Thunderluff she seeks out Sage Truthseeker. "Greetings Sage." she says as she nears him.

"Ah, I have been expecting you child." Truthseeker says. He is currently mixing some herbs together and stops. He places the mixture on a shelf and turns to look upon her. "I may be no hunter, but I know Aspect of the Beast when I see it. You are in Thunderbluff child. There are no enemies here. So I don't know if I should insulted or worried. What brings you here child?"

Chaindog checks over her shoulder and then steps in close to Truthseeker. "I need to know who these people are." She shows the parchment and points to the symbol on the feather.

"I recognise the cartographer's work, but this I do not." He gazes closer at it. "Precise strokes, lightly touched, and the..." he stops suddenly. He peers at Chaindog. "This is night elf work troll." He says with warning in his voice. "It's of the Mythos Guild. These runes, hmm, they are of Silithis, and this," pointing to some scribbles, "appears to be a calendar of some sort."

"Silithis?" questions Chaindog. "Isn't Cenarion Hold there?"

"Aye child it is. Cenarion Hold is populated both by Horde and the Alliance."

"Is it as bad as Gadgetzan?" asks Chaindog. She's only been there once and knows little to nothing of it's activities.

"Nay child, it isn't. Though you should still be careful. If you get too far from the guards, you'll be vulnerable." advises Sage Truthseeker.

With that, Chaindog quickly and quietly heads for the Flight Master. She catchs a flight to Cenarion Hold. In flight she makes sure her Strigid Owl's Feather is prominently displayed.

She then arrives in Cenarion Hold.

[Keeper Of Lore]

While Chingaso look at strange note in Everlook, notice out of corner of eye entity appear then disappear on track. "Aspect of Beast," think Chingaso. "Who hide from Chingaso?" Chingaso take note from board and head back to Orgrimmar to ask Irredeemables at guild hall if know of note.

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Lelenia

Her lean frame sank gratefully down onto a hard bench outside the inn at Cenarion Hold. Almost three straight days of striking down the Twilight Cultists at the north-west camp since she had modified that note in Gadgetzan. Three days of sweltering sun, blowing sand, and smoldering corpses. Smiling softly, she chuckles at the thought of the Grim being proud of such work. On the bench next to her sat the proof of her work, a veritable mountain of twilight texts, translated by the hermit down south. Most of it was worthless propoganda, but some actually held wisdom in the words. Sighing, she takes the first sheaf off the top of the stack, her eyes starting to scan.

Thumbing through the papers, she thinks of the last few days. Many alliance she had run into, and many horde. The former she helped when they were polite, the later she aided if they were in trouble...sometimes they were grateful, sometimes not. A few of those joined the cultists, decaying upon the hot sands. Always she checked each member of the Horde carefully. She watched first for the insignia of the Grim. On the rare few she saw, her eyes then checked for the feather. On the armor, tied to the belt, braided into hair, anywhere such a thing could be displayed...to no avail. Those three days had been good for hunting, but not for finding. Tired, her rations almost exhausted, and her muscles sore, she had given the hermit her spoils, then gone back to the Hold, and waited.

Here she waited still, glancing up the small slope toward the Horde's wyvern master each time she heard the beating of leather wings. True, the one that was searching for her might have a hearthstone keyed to Silithus, but for now she watched the most common entry point. Shaking her head at the tenth sheaf talking about the "new allies", she tosses that into the fire next to her, and picks up the next page...waiting...watching...

[Keeper Of Lore]

A pair of raptors ride into town. One, a mount, the other, a pet. Chaindog dismounts from her raptor and ties it to the tether rail outside the inn. Her mount looks around and spots some dwarf's mount also tethered nearby. The sheep's eyes widen and fear sets in. Her mount starts to drool and a rumbling sound can be heard from it's belly.

Another long day of searching and no elf. By now she's convinced it's either a druid or a rogue. Any hunter's track hidden is poor at best.

Gutwrench, Chaindog's pet raptor, seems to have enjoyed the day in the hot sun. It snuggles in close to Chaindog's waist and emits a low rumble of appreciation.

Chaindog suddenly smells a scent she's long been hunting and spins to see a nightelf sitting on a bench working on something. She sniffs the air. The scent is strong. She then notices the Mythos symbol on her tabard.

She quickly looks around to see if any other horde or alliance are around. The problem is that they are everywhere here.

She moves near the elf and sits beside her on the bench. Subtlely, she plays with the feather. She then tries to make direct eye contact with the elf.

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Lelenia

Fully half the original stack of papers had been steadily fed into the fire, one after another. On her lap she had set up a clean one, using her travel kit to write down notes when anything interesting came up, but so far that had only provided a half-sheet of useful information.

Sitting up straight, her back cracks, working out the kinks from hunching over her work so long. Almost five minutes ago, a troll had sat down on the other end of the bench...but Lelenia was busy, and kept at her self-appointed task. Now she took note of the newcomer. Firstly, the tabbard, marking her as Grim. That, in and of itself, makes her elfin lips curl in a smile. Next, she notes the raptor nearby, and the well-worn, yet quiet, gear that marked the troll as a hunter. The amount of sand caked in the creases also tells of time in Silithus. Then her eyes note the feather, and one brow lifts, easily recognizing it as the same that was on the note in Gadgetzan.

Meeting the troll's gaze, she nods slightly, then goes about putting away her travel kit, using a length of slender rope to bind the remaining papers in one neat bundle before putting it into one of her many bags. Laughing a bit, since most would see Mooncloth bags as a waste of resources, but the extra room was well-used in her travels.

Strapping her bags on again, she looks at the troll, then up at the top of the lookout tower in the hold. Looking back at the troll, she stands up, and starts walking up the hill toward the tower, which she knows only holds a single guard at the top.

[Keeper Of Lore]

After watching the elf wander up into the guard tower, Chaindog heads into the inn and orders a drink. She takes a seat on a stool at the bar and takes a few minutes to enjoy her drink.

She then heads outside and up to the tower with Gutwrench in tow.

[Keeper Of Lore]

As Chaindog enters the tower, she motions for Gutwrench to guard to the entranceway and Gutwrench all but flops down on the ground and rolls into the sunlight to bask in it.

Chaindog looks down at Gutwrench and mutters, "Some guard raptor you are, you big suck up."

She then walks up the ramp a ways to see the night elf sitting on it. Before speaking, she slowly and gently pulls a flare from her belt, ignites it and tosses below to the floor. Then she takes another, ignites it, and tosses up the tower to a ledge up above. She waits a seconds for the flares to go out and is convinced there are no others around. She then approaches the night elf cautiously and speaks a single name.

"Chingaso."

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Lelenia

She watches the paranoia of the hunter, keeping herself from smiling a little. The raptor wasn't there, telling her it was probably down below, being a guard. Ah well, if she had to get out, she could still manage it.

"Chingaso"

The name makes her look up suddenly, meeting the troll's gaze again, then nod slowly. Quietly, she whispers "Chingaso, Grim"

Frowning a little, she pulls out her travel kit again, along with a few sheafs of clean paper, setting them on the floor in front of her, then gestures to the open spot on the other side for the troll to sit. Smiling a little, she places her hand on her chest.

"Lelenia, Mythos"

[Keeper Of Lore]

She notices the elf gesture to herself and name herself and a then gesture to sit. So she takes a seat and points a thumb to herself and says, "Chaindog, Grim."

Her eyes search the night elf. She glances at the sheets of paper and wonders what the elf is going to do.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Chewing on her lip a little, she thinks of how to transmit her question. She settles on one that's hopefully easy to translate with drawings. Dabbing her quill, she quickly sketches the owl feather in Chaindog's hair, overlain with the symbol of Mythos. Under that, a quick question mark, then turns the paper toward Chaindog, replacing the quill in the inkpot.