Grim Views

The Barrens was as dull as ever, the little rogue thought, with its wide stretches of grasslands with no place to hide other than in the tall grass itself. Still, the Crossroads was where she met a Grim for the first time, so she did have some good memories of the place. The wide open spaces also made it easy to watch for anyone approaching her as she made her way to the Crossroads from Durotar for another day of scouting.

She was glad to leave her previous assignment behind. Hunting traitors within the Horde would have been the perfect job for her. At the time Awatu had given her the task, she had no idea how little support she would get from her fellow Grims, who, instead of helping her, were friendly and helpful to her targets. Repeated witnessing of such acts left her feeling isolated, and eventually, along with other factors, broke her mind. She let herself be driven into the darkness—a fantasy within her head--until Malhavik forced her to come back to herself. Upon her return, she found the situation unchanged. Grims, even many of the officers, still saw Sanctuary as Horde and treated them as friends and allies. Syreena no longer had the desire to fight an uphill battle alone, even if Awatu did name Sanctuary traitors and ordered her to cleanse the Horde of all traitors. It was an impossible task, and Syreena had no regrets in abandoning it unfinished.

When the opportunity arose for a new assignment from the Commander and the High Inquisitor, Syreena jumped at it eagerly.

She knew about the Hollowrot poison that Cobrak’s Deadshots had stolen from someone in Tanaan Jungle. Cobrak had told everyone about it at a guild meeting a few months ago, so it was common knowledge among anyone who was at that meeting. She was the one who retrieved the sample from him and gave the vial to the Grim alchemists. They were to analyze it and see if it could be made into a weapon to use against Accalia. But the sample, along with all the alchemists’ research, was stolen.

At the last guild meeting, Whazat, a Deadshot goblin, stayed behind to talk to the Commander and Khorvis. Syreena also remained, sitting quietly off to the side. She listened as the three discussed the dangers of the Hollowrot and the one responsible for its theft from the Grim alchemists.

“It turns the various bodily fluids acidic in nature,” Whazat had explained. “Think of it like a body-wide ulcer. That is, if the poison reaches maximum potential after two weeks without treatment.”

“What treatments are available or effective?” Awatu asked.

“Mild sedatives laced with blood thinners with a strong infusion of shamanistic waters. It appears this poison is a creation of shamanistic magics of some kind, so the latter is best suited to combat it.”

The person behind the theft, Whazat told them, was an Alliance extremist that went by the name of Morinth. She has a grudge against the Grim. Who doesn’t? He showed them a picture of her, which Khorvis snatched and shoved into Syreena’s hands. The picture showed a human woman with long black hair, and half of her face looked metallic. The Lasher informed the little rogue that she was to capture Morinth and bring her in, not kill her.

Whazat then went on to provide some sketchy details about three of Morinth’s known associates—targets for interrogation that could lead to Morinth’s current location. There wasn’t much to go on. The Barrens one had the most details, so Syreena decided to start there. Inzema was to help her, and she also recruited Gazreeth for the job. Although she hadn’t known the death knight very long, he seemed capable and dependable and a lot more mentally stable than Inzema.

Since she’d been assigned the task, Syreena had ridden though the Barrens several times, scouting for sign of the dark shaman who supposedly raided caravans in the area.

She was certain, that with the help of Inzema and Gazreeth, this job would be a piece of cake. Find the dark shaman, force him to tell where Morinth is, then capture Morinth and throw her in the garrison’s dungeon. Simple. Easy.


((Cross posted on TNG: http://wow-tng.org/showthread.php?23344 ... -Hollowrot ))

Syreena, Inzema, and Gazreeth, snuck through the high grasses along the river that cut through Durotar and the Barrens. Cobrak had provided a general location where they might find the dark shaman, Fargrul Deephowl, a known associate of Morinth. Finally, they approached a small hut with an open door, and an orc that was obviously a shaman sitting inside.

Just as they were about to move in, a woman arrived—a human woman with long black hair. Half of her face seemed to be metallic, and a lone amethyst eye glinted in place of flesh. Syreena recognized her from the picture of Morinth, and signaled the others to wait.

“Fargrul,” Morinth called as she entered the hut.

“What is it? This time….” Fargrul said as he turned and viewed the woman with distaste. “You seem to not honor your own bargains, or at least have no value in them.”

The three Grims listened to the two bicker. They were obviously associates only for whatever each got out of the deal. They seemed not to trust or even like each other.

“Now then,” Morinth said after several insults had been thrown back and forth between the two, “I have a shipment ready and waiting in Ratchet now. Bring me my students, and you’ll get it.”

“I have been ready for far too long for this shipment to not be where it should be,” Fargrul answered. “You clearly do not care. They will be ready when they feel like it.”

The two went back to posturing and insulting each other. Syreena gave the signal to move in, and Inzema moved through the shadows to appear behind Morinth, who had her hands wrapped around Fargrul’s throat.

“Oh, I was wondering when you’d show,” Morinth said, seemingly unconcerned.

“Well, I was in the neighborhood and thought you could use a cup of sssugar,” Inzema responded.

Morgrul and Fargrul seemingly blamed each other for the Grim showing up, and the insults resumed. Then a red dot appeared on the shaman’s forehead. Morinth smiled and said “Bye, Farry.”

Syreena, noticing the red dot, and remembering what Whazat had said about Morinth’s willingness to kill her associates rather than risk them being interrogated, lunged at Morinth to distract her from killing the orc. The little rogue was met with a head butt that sent her staggering back.

“I was wondering when Cobby’s little minions would appear,” Morinth taunted.

Gazreeth stepped in front of Syreena, ready to take the next blow aimed at her as she regained her balance and drew her swords.

Inzema drew his knives and moved on Morinth, intending to introduce his blades to the woman’s side. Morinth spun her axes and smiled sweetly, her jeweled eye glimmering bright as she greeted Inzema with a flurry of axe swipes. Inzema cackled gleefully, even as he was injured.

Fargrul tensed his hands as he began chanting under his breath. The air took on a slight crackle of energy. Gazreeth, cackling maniacally, aimed chains of ice at the shaman to make him unable to move.

“Inzema…a little lost rabid dog?” Morinth inquired. “And the almighty Shadowblade comes for me too. I’m honored.”

“Glad to see I’m famous,” Syreena answered. “You’re just another human to me.”

“But then, the last few attempts you’ve made on someone haven’t gone so well, have they?”

“Well, the attacks you speak of were against Horde,” Syreena shrugged. “They’re a lot tougher than you soft-skinned humans.”

“Rabid dog, hm" Inzema grinned viciously at Morinth. “I’ll show you rabid.” He flicked his wrist, manifesting a potion and injected himself with it. He attacked again, faster than before.

“Yes, you are,” Morinth laughed. “Nothing like sister dear, are we?” She parried the blades viciously, grinning all the while. Syreena darted to Morinth’s back, stabbing her swords at her repeatedly. Blood spilled from Motinth’s back, but she laughed at the pain and tried to bounce up the pole to the roof. Gazreeth, however, managed to hook her leg, preventing her escape. The death knight then charged at Morinth, trying to cut her with his blade, but he stumbled in the close quarters.

“Ah ah ah, little goblin,” Morinth scolded with a waggle of her fingers. “Wouldn’t Gizet be ashamed.”

“Who the fel is Gizet?” Syreena asked, but she noticed Gazreeth looking at Morinth with fire in his eyes, and figured Gizet must be someone close to Gazreeth.

“Information is power,” Morinth said with a smile.

Gazreeth, blinded by rage, removed his helmet so he could get a better view of Morinth as he hurled a death coil at her, slamming her up against the pillar. “You will not repeat that name again, wench.”

Fargrul bared his teeth and shot a shock of flame at Gazreeth. Gazreeth was still so focused on Morinth that he ignored the orc and was struck. Morinth laughed. Inzema turned as black as the deepest shadows, ripping through the shadows to garrote Morinth with one hand while stabbing her with the other. Morinth’s blood spilled onto the floor, yet she still laughed. Her gaze locked with Inzema’s, and she taunted him, “Don’t you just want to….kill Morinth?”

Inzema became disoriented. He ripped off his goggles and started blinking. Then he frowned and launched himself at Syreena. Even as he did, his wounds began closing, drawing the gray-red blood back in. Syreena blinked, surprised, but she managed to sidestep the attack from her fellow Grim. She threw a handful of powder at his face to temporarily blind him as she shouted at him. He stumbled into the wall.

“Yes, kill her, Inzema,” Morinth ordered. “Do the Grim proud. You’ll be a hero for taking her down.” She shot a grappling hook from her belt to vault to the roof, but Gazreeth reached out like death itself to pull her back into the room. She landed hard, eating dirt for a second before vaulting back to her feet.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have time to piss on that spot before I pulled you to it,” Gazreeth informed the woman.

“Welcome back, bitch,” Syreena said with a sweet smile.

“Oh, hello, I’ll take an ale and a sweet roll,” Morinth answered. “Or are you done playing the serving wench?”

Inzema went for Morinth again, trying to stab her, and Morinth grappled with him. Syreena jumped up and kicked in mid-air at Morinth’s side to knock her way. The undeniable sound of cracking ribs was heard, and Morinth was bounced away. She blew a tuft of black hair from her face, and informed the little rogue, “Congratulations. You’ve made me angry.”

Syreena grinned wickedly. Morinth’s eye pulsated with horrendous power, sending a mind-shattering scream to everyone’s mind, but only Syreena seemed to be affected. She fell to the ground, clutching her head. Gazreeth looked at the Shadowblade and fired a Death Coil to sooth her mind and help her recover from the wound.

Inzema attacked Morinth again, with the rogue seeming to gain the upper hand. Then the woman rushed out of the hut, spotting a troll. Her eye glowed as she greeted Alakroz and tried to invade his mind. He saw, all around him, the enemies of the 37th—Breygrah, Naheal, Cobrak—and standing before him was Konro. “Quick! Kill these intruders!” Alakroz shot blow darts of varying degrees of poison and psychedelic drugs at those people.

“What in tarnation?!” Fargrul exclaimed.

Darethy wondered how long it was going to take people to notice him. He wasn’t exactly subtle. Then again, somehow people get ambushed by fel reavers.

Gazreeth pointed his blade at Morinth and made her an offer. “Before I strike, I give you a chance to come with me, answer questions, and I guarantee I will spare your life.”

Morinth simple laughed. “You’re funny. I was about ot say the same to you. Of course, minus the alive part. I’ll still kill you, but it’d be slower.”

Gazreeth rushed at Morinth swinging at her with a Death Strike. The woman’s lone eye went wide as the death knight hobbled her, and she fell to her knees. She coughed blood.

“You…” she coughed, trying to laugh, “You think…you won?”

Inzema was not keen on taking Morinth alive, or letting her escape. He sprinted around the corner and sliced open her neck.

“We are Morinth,” she said as she died.

“No!” Gazreeth shouted. “Damn it Inzema!”

Syreena was just recovering from the shattering mind-scream as Gazreeth helped her up. Inzema was calming down, and he sheathed one knife and checked Morinth’s pulse. The dead woman’s eye discharged a massive amount of arcane energy and exploded, leaving her face little more than a burnt cavity. Inzema was knocked back with the blast. Darethy was so unsurprised by Inzema killing her that it looped into being surprised, but then looped back around to being really unsurprised.

(( so ... mistrust anyone with a metallic face implant and gem for an eye, got it! ))

“I had her,” Gazreeth explained to the Shadowblade. “She was wounded and couldn’t fight back. He killed her.”

Syreena sighed. Khorvis had ordered her to bring Morinth in alive, to be questioned by the Grim officers, but there was no time to worry about that now. They still had to recover the poison, and Fargrul was their best chance of that. “Get the orc.”

“Your keeper is dead, orc,” Gazreeth said, turning to Fargrul. “Come with us, or die here now.”

“What’s your choice?” Syreena demanded. “You coming quietly, or do we get to have some fun with you first?”

“I am sure we can come to some sort of an agreement, little one,” Fargrul said. “I can give you information.”

“The agreement is, I guarantee I won’t kill you if you come with me,” Gazreeth responded. “I can’t say all of my companions will offer the same.”

“In exchange for my freedom. Make people think you killed me. I do not care.”

“You can discuss your freedom with the people you give the information to,” Gazreeth assured the orc.

Syreena grinned wickedly at Fargrul, her hands going to her swords. She heard Darethy and Alakroz outside, discussing….something. She almost felt sorry for Darethy for having to deal with that crazy, Hakkar-worshipping troll, but she kept her attention on the orc in front of her.

“Yes. Kill me,” the orc invited. “Lose the one connection you have to the poison.”

“What’s the shipment you were talking about earlier?” Syreena asked him. She heard wet slurpy sounds outside, and glanced out to see Inzema eating Morinth as he went through her pockets.

“The shipment?” Fargrul smiled. “Weapons.”

“And the students she wanted?” Syreena continued. Fargrul gave her a look.

“You do not even care what weapons?” he questioned her. “Fine. Darkness is best sometimes. Nothing more until my freedom and release have been arranged.”

“I will remove you from this place myself and set you free,” Gazreeth assured him.

“As long as you tell us what we want to know,” Syreena added.

“I could endure whatever you have for me, should you dishonesty prove true,” Fargrul said, slowly rising to his feet. “You try to torture me, you get nothing.”

“If you don’t answer this time, you’re going to get hurt,” Syreena stated. She was running out of patience.

“Very well then, “ Fargrul began, after a look at Gazreeth. He rolled his shoulders and clenched his fists. “Students--Draenei and Wildhammers. The students are her minions. You find them, they will know where ot find the poison.”

“Where is it?” Syreena demanded as she drew her swords.

“I could lure them out for you,” Fargrul offered, staring at Gazreeth. “What you do to them is of your own wish. I have no care for the lot of them.”

“Tell us how to do it without you, so we know you aren’t setting a trap,” Gazreeth countered. “A reasonable request.”

“The precise location is not known,” Fargrul claimed. “Not to me. However, I do know how to find out.”

“Please put your blades away. I gave my word,” Gazreeth said softly to Syreena. She considered a moment, and then complied, since the goblin seemed able to keep him talking at least. Gazreeth looked back to the orc. “Tell us what we need to know in order to get one of the students out.”

“The one in charge of the students, a hideous little creature named Hilgrand,” Fargrul informed them. “She is one of her most trusted lieutenants…and will know.”

“Location?”

“North,” the orc answered. “tucked into the hills. Close to the Ramparts. The way is sealed to all but my order. I will go and bring the dwarf to you.”

“No,” Gaz stated immediately.

“How does your order get in?” Syreena asked.

“We have our ways,” Fargrul said, looking at them with darkness in his eyes. “I will not betray my men. The Alliance scum are yours, but I will not see my men attacked once this is over.”

Inzema, wandered back in, carrying a leg he had sawed off of Morinth’s corpse. Gazreeth told Inzema not to attack the orc. Inzema, his mouth full with a large bite of human flesh, simply nodded. Syreena was staring at Fargrul, ready to start slicing him.

“Fine,” she spat. “How do we get to this Hilgrand then?”

“Direct where you would have her brought,” the orc offered. “I will bring her, as well as the scum.”

“That’s not the deal,” Gazreeth answered.

“You think we’re just going to let you walk away and trust you’ll come back?” Syreena asked. “Do we look that stupid?” Fargrul didn’t answer that.

“Just tell us where,” Gaz said. “We will deal with the rest. You give us the exact location, and I will get you out of here before munchies over there goes for a second meal.” As if on cue, Inzema took another bite of the leg, severing bone with a snap, and said something that was muffled beyond recognition.

“Zema, make him talk,” Syreena suggested. She was bored and irritated. Fargrul was going on about how he survived the fall of the glorious Hellscream, and even if they tortured him, they’d get nothing.

“Everyone breaksss,” Inzema assured him.

Gazreeth held an ancient stone next to his body. A moment later, the goblin turned into a black catlike creature with feathered wings. “Get on, orc. I keep my word. Or take your chances with Inzema.”

“Gaz….” Syreena started with a warning in her tone.

“Very well,” Fargrul answered as he climbed aboard the Gaz-cat, and they flew away.

Syreena sighed as she stepped out of the hut, shaking her head, and she muttered, “Should have been a simple job.”

“Ooh, Good Grim, Bad Grim, Worse Grim,” Inzema mused. “I like this game.”

Syreena just looked at him, and he handed her a note that she assumed he found on Morinth’s corpse.

Kallavan,
Trembyll has been found out. Erase him.

Alakroz and Darethy were still talking about whatever they were talking about, as Syreena tried to make sense of the note. Then she turned to Inzema and slapped him.

“You weren’t supposed to kill her!”

THUNK

A few feet from where Syreena and Inzema stood, Fargrul fell from the sky, hit the ground hard, and died. A moment later, Gaz-cat landed and shifted back into a goblin.

“Ooh, orc, tenderized, even,” Inzema drooled.

“Told you to trust me,” Gazreeth said with a grin. “Nozzlepott’s.”

Inzema went to work dismembering the orc’s arms while Syreena searched the corpse.

“Anyone need a hand? I seem to have a few ekssstra!” Inzema waved the orc’s severed arms around, and then started to puppet the arms to rub the hands on Gazreeth’s face. “You lied to me! Lieeeeed! And now I’m deeeeead!”

Syreena found a few coins, an autographed picture of Hellscream, and a totem on the orc corpse. The totem had dwarvish writings on it, smeared in blood. She looked at it in confusion for a moment, before Darethy gestured at it. “Let me have a look.”

“I remember the great debate of whether one of the first Dark Iron rulers was Shaman or a Warlock,” Darethy begain, narrowing his eyes as he examined the totem. “This totem is Dark Iron in origin. Strangely enough, it’s….” He paused a moment to translate. “’For Hellscream’s Honor’? A strange thing to write in Dwarvish.”

“The shaman Gaz just killed was former Kor’kron,” Syreena mentioned as Darethy handed her back to the totem. “I got information saying that Morinth was very interested in Garrosh and his people.”

“I’ve had my fill of Garrosh and his remnants,” Darethy stated. “The man cast a shadow that was far too long.”

“I think we’ll need a shaman,” Syreena mused, remembering what Fargrul had said. She looked around. Alakroz was gone. It was just as well. “One we can trust, not that crazy Hakkar guy.”

“Daxxum, perhaps?” Gazreeth suggested. Syreena nodded; that was her first thought too.

“I was gonna sssay,” Inzema confessed, “we could go into Orgrimmar and ssstart going, ‘HIRING A SHAMAN, WE SWEAR IT ISN’T FOR SEX!’”

Syreena just looked blankly at Inzema, but he wasn’t finished yet.

“Ooh! I could use this guy as a puppet!” He exclaimed, poking at the orc corpse. Then he scratched his chin with the orc’s hands. “He seems to be missing his arms.”

“I wonder how that happened,” Syreena said flatly. Inzema held out the orc’s hands in an expression of “no idea”. The Shadowblade had the idea that Khorvis was trying to punish her for something when he assigned Inzema to work on this with her.

Darethy looked at Gazreeth exasperated, clearly viewing the goblin as the only person here who was sane.

“Sometimes it’s best to let them get this stuff out in the open so they don’t….” Gazreeth began explaining to Darethy, but he gave up on that explanation. “I really don’t know what good it does actually.”

“Gaz, talk to Daxxum,” Syreena ordered. “Tell him we need his help. And don’t forget the location Fargrul showed you.”

“Will do,” the death knight assured her, as Inzema was slapping people on the butt with the severed orc arms.

“We’re done here for tonight then.”

[[ Please visit the logs for Office Hours 5/18/15 to read about the package from Morinth and the selection of a shaman to help in the quest. ]]

* A Goblin recording device lands on the Commanders desk a note attatched that says "For the commanders ears only* Stamped on it is a gold smile*


"Commander, I am sure you are now aware of Whazat's fate. I brought his body to Lord Mograine to examine. His soul was ripped out. The magic at hand was on par with how we make ghouls, and abominations. That is all he could tell me, this next part however is why this was sent only to you. The Whazat impostor we encountered knew too much, granted they tortured him so he was able to give information about Grim forces. But he had no knowledge or our plans. The Blade, Inzema, and the Lasher were the only ones who knew. I was the only one to know the location. When we arrived with the shaman the Lasher had chosen we were greeted by the Whazat impersonator. I knew something wasn't right, I should have gutted him right there. Sy said the Lasher must have sent him. This thing was able to get close enough to Grim, kill one of us, and disguise himself as one of us. I hope no one in the Grim willingly sold out this operation. But someone did leak the information about this mission. And because of that we are down a soldier. I request that this issue is looked into with the utmost priority and discretion. If someone unwillingly leaked information, they should be punished. If they willingly leaked it, please give me the traitor. I will make them wish they were dead. Gazreeth out...

*A loud smashing noise as if Gaz threw something is heard right before the recording turns off.*

Iu'a'ne'fon walked in to the Grim hall like she belonged there, the tall trolless covered in tattoos and scars of ritualistic nature and carrying a bound dark iron dwarf woman on her shoulder. She stopped briefly at the entrance before walking through. [This had better be the place,] she muttered in Zandali before walking further in. She followed the pull of the spirit that she had brought forth to bring her to the one called Khorvis, stepping where it stepped and turning where it turned, when she was interrupted by a creature dropping from the ceiling in front of her. It stood, not nearly as tall as her, hair shaved in to a mohawk similar to but less impressive than hers, and smiled, showing teeth that were filed to points. For a moment she thought that she had stumbled across a ghoul, but ghouls did not wear goggles. It also bore the tabard of this guild

"Well hello, sssweet thing," the pale human-like thing began, intending to move on to a further line when the shamanka pushed past him, following the lingering pull of the spirit. "Hey! What'sss the hurry?" He grabbed her bare wrist, and the trolless snarled at him. "Leave I be!" She started down the hallway again when the thing pressed on. "Where ya goin', not-Grim?" It was following her. Iu shot a glare over her unencumbered shoulder at the thing. "Dis be fo' Khorvis, joo leave I be." The thing continued following her, hands in pockets and a smile on its hideous face. It watched as she finally stopped in front of a door marked with something in Orcish that she was not interested in reading, and placed her load in front of the door. "I wouldn't leave that there if I were you," the grinning thing said. [By all the Loa,] Iu muttered. "Why?" "Because this is a public hallway. Sssomeone might make off with your parsssel." It grinned in such a way that made the shamanka think that "Someone" was this creature. She opened the door, kicked the dwarf-thing inside, and shut it. She then turned on the thing and crossed her fingers at him. "Joo touch dat, joo die."

She stormed from the guild hall, the thing still following her, smug hands in smug pockets with a smug smile on its face. She climbed into the saddle of her protodrake, shoved the thing off of the saddle behind her, and took off into the air.

Gazreeth wrote:* A Goblin recording device lands on the Commanders desk a note attatched that says "For the commanders ears only* Stamped on it is a gold smile*


"Commander, I am sure you are now aware of Whazat's fate. I brought his body to Lord Mograine to examine. His soul was ripped out. The magic at hand was on par with how we make ghouls, and abominations. That is all he could tell me, this next part however is why this was sent only to you. The Whazat impostor we encountered knew too much, granted they tortured him so he was able to give information about Grim forces. But he had no knowledge or our plans. The Blade, Inzema, and the Lasher were the only ones who knew. I was the only one to know the location. When we arrived with the shaman the Lasher had chosen we were greeted by the Whazat impersonator. I knew something wasn't right, I should have gutted him right there. Sy said the Lasher must have sent him. This thing was able to get close enough to Grim, kill one of us, and disguise himself as one of us. I hope no one in the Grim willingly sold out this operation. But someone did leak the information about this mission. And because of that we are down a soldier. I request that this issue is looked into with the utmost priority and discretion. If someone unwillingly leaked information, they should be punished. If they willingly leaked it, please give me the traitor. I will make them wish they were dead. Gazreeth out...

*A loud smashing noise as if Gaz threw something is heard right before the recording turns off.*

An irritating static filled the air as the recording device finished its message. Awatu ground his teeth at the noise and, moving quickly, knocked the device off of the too-small desk. It had not finished clattering on the floor when a hoof slammed down onto it, crushing the device into an irreparable smattering of gears, wires, and metal. He stood there a moment, hardly moving a muscle or even breathing, before lifting his hoof and scraping off any residue. "Wretched machines..." he muttered darkly. Having no more business to tend to from within the confines of the small office, he left, and ensured no trespassers would gain entry. Though, little information would be found in that office. And, if the Irredeemables were smart, nothing would be found in theirs either.

Marching down the corridors at a rigid pace, his thoughts turned towards the defenses of the guild hall and how it had been infiltrated in recent months. Someone within The Grim was leaking information to enemies and unknowns. Someone had a big mouth that could not be shut. Someone, whether it be negligence or malice, sought to undermine all of the past decade's worth of work. If Khorvis and Syreena were aware of this, then he knew that investigations were already underway. No need to cause confusion. He will meet with them later.

His hooves and thoughts brought him to the Vaults, with some of the greatest wards and traps composed of the finest members of The Grim. Two large Core Hounds looked up, noticing the newcomer. The recognize the smell as one of their own, and return to their vigil within the corridor of the Vault. Awatu's eyes rove over the corridor, noting every ward built within the walls and the deadly traps that could be activated by other more complicated means. He looked up, towards the ceiling, and he closed his eyes. He let his mind's eye take him all around the guild hall. A series of tunnels and corridors burrowed into the earth underneath Tirisfal, connecting to old crypts and forgotten caves that now house some of the deadliest tools and fighters upon this world. His mind took him to the Garrison, merely a simple staging point of the war against the Iron Horde. If it could even be called such...

His eyes snapped open, and he regarded the Core Hounds for a moment. Two of the four heads looked at him, curiously. A slight grin had formed on his snout, and he spoke softly, almost as if the fiery beasts would react as a fellow solider might.

"It is time to rebuild."

((I just caught up with this - dang you guys have been busy))