Grim Views

** a copy of a letter sent to several officers and small assault team members earlier today **

My Brothers Grim,

I do not know if you are aware of this, but in ages past the fallen dragon aspect known now as Deathwing used goblin engineers in the crafting of his armour and the artifact of power knwon as the demon soul. Enterprising and untrustworthy scum that they are, a faction has also been working with the Lich King, crafting tools for his war effort. Now what might be less commonly known and which information has been provided to me by an apparently trustworthy source is that in the hours before our assault on the pinnacle last month the chief engineer arranged for a large cache of gold and weaponry to be transferred to the bankers in Booty Bay. Too late the treachery was detected and the engineer gruesomely tortured and slain but his son escaped and has sent me a letter. It seems the tabard of The Grim is known among their people and our somewhat extralegal activity has led him to believe that we may be useful to each other. To avoid suspicion I will be meeting with him in the Elwynn Forest. With my access to our guild bank passwords and his access to those of his father we should be able to arrange a large transfer quickly. His intention is to have us keep a portion of the monies and weapons and for us to send the rest on to another location but I think he underestimates our fear of the law and I believe we will be able to keep everything. It is my intention to extract the information from him at the meeting, slay him, and arrange myself for the transaction myself. I do not expect that this will take long, I should have returned in time for our work this evening.

Your humble servant,
Greebo, Twice Made.

The fall colours on the trees and the cold wind blowing from the mountains to the north reminded him of Azshara and of another time.  Thoughts and memories blew idly through his mind like leaves. Careless and confident in his power he strolled down memory lane. Up the stream and around the lake, the trees growing taller and denser the further he went from Eastvale. "A black rock directly between the lake and the twin-peak" he muttered to himself. He snorted quietly, amused at the fate about to befall the waiting goblin. "The fool!" he thought. "Your greed will be the death of you."

The shadowy bulk of a volcano-tossed boulder emerged from the underbrush and, dispatching Tarnam to circle around he leapt around the rock, the words of an immolation ready to burn on his lips.

The drone collapsed into a dusty bed in a dimly lit corner of the crowded Undercity and yellow glow in its eye faded to a dull grey - with just a flicker of a black streak before the light disappeared. In a room in Stormwind a mage stretched painfully, fingers and mind exhausted from a long night of riding the ragged edge of failure - just this side of the exquisite line of the obvious sabotage of 10 finely tuned soldiers in a desperate battle. A misstep there, a hesitant spell cast there, just enough molasses thrown into the mix to bring down the delicate work.

He cast a bleary-eyed glance around his tower room, passing over the smoke stains on one windowsill, the cracked masonry on another and saw a letter shoved under his door. Shuffling over to it he saw Marcus' seal and knew there was more work ahead of him. Ripping open the envelope he scanned it quickly "Troop counts ... Kor'kron in the city ... royal guards ..." He sighed the long sigh of a minion out of earshot of a despotic taskmaster and dropped into his chair again. Picking up a thin strip of black and red cloth he brought his thoughts to bear on a lanky form deep under the earth. There was a flicker of contact and then an abrupt severance.

"Too tired." he thought. "Tomorrow soon enough." His body leaned forward, his head rested on the desk and he began to snore.