Anaie heard the voice come through her stone, "Hey pal! Think you could crack into the old G-bank and heist some stuff for me?"
It was a goblin, the Minion called Grendze she thought, though it was hard to tell, as their grating voices all sounded so similar.
"Aye..." she replied, not thrilled at having to deal with the filthy creature. "What do ya want?"
She listened to the items the greedy thing blurted out, made note and told him to meet her in the Valley of Honor, but that he would have to speak to Mohan about one of the trinkets he desired.
Typical of a goblin about to acquire free items, the foul smelling thing arrived in moments. Waving eagerly, Grendze strolled up to the Forsaken with his hands out.
Anaie sighed, Greedy little things she thought as she handed over a few items. After he snatched them from her grasp, her eyes widened at what she saw....
"What is dat on yer chest minion?" she spat out angrily.
The goblin seemed flustered, as if he did not know what the woman was speaking of.
"Take that off, immediately..." she growled lowly. "Minions ain't fit ta wear the colahs of da Grim."
After a bit of defensive posturing and stammering, the goblin removed the article of clothing and stuffed it into his bags. Anaie dismissed the creature with a wave of her hand and a curt "get out of my sight minon!"
As the creature loosed a burst of smoke and vanished from sight, she sighed. Either his stench is stuck in my nostrils or he is still about she thought. Shaking her head, she mounted her drake and took to the air.
The balls on this minion...
The balls on this minion...
Last edited by Anaie on Sat Apr 23, 2011 6:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: The balls on this minion...
It had been maybe 10 minutes by the goblin clock when her drake landed upon the roof of The Wyvern's Tail. She was about to retire for the evening, when she heard Grendze's voice carrying on inside the building.
He wouldn't be so stupid... would he? the rogue thought to herself as she slid off her saddle and silently dropped from the rooftop to the entrance. She had to see if the goblin was complying with the simple order she gave mere minutes ago... No one could be THAT foolish! she thought as she crossed the threshold of the tavern and spotted the foul little being.
Apparently, some COULD be that stupid... the little bastard had on the Grim colors once again!
Motha... the rogue thought as she crept up behind the oblivious minion. "What is dat I see on yer chest Minion?!" the Forsaken bellowed at the top of her lungs in the small bar.
Grendze jumped up with a start, and immediately tried to end his conversation and sneak away, but the old rogue was a bit faster and grabbed the little goblin by the ear.
She began berating the poor little thing, and was perhaps thinking of killing it, when the Irredeemable of the Grim, Mohan entered the tavern, no doubt hearing the Forsaken yelling. He strolled up to the two as only a Tauren can, and silently stared at the goblin. The Eagle's Eye noticed the minions breach of Grim policy immediately, but said nothing... he just loomed over the tiny creature.
Anaie hardly missed a beat in her threats of punishments on the little creature, in fact she pointed out the skull helm that the Tauren hunter wore and threatened to turn the goblins skull into a tiny helm for Mohan's pet cat.
The two Grim officers had a bit of fun threatening the minion, before Anaie finally took the tabard from Grendze. Using a bit of slight of hand, she tossed some bundled cloth she had found earlier in the cooking fire of the tavern saying that the tabard "stunk of minion" and was "unclean."
Turning back to the goblin, she leaned forward to be eye to eye with it, her eyes hidden by the Cursed Vision of Sargeras. "Get outta my sight..." she told the creature. To which it just proceeded to stand there dumbfounded.
"What about my inquisition or whatever that thing is? Since my mentor is no longer around, what am I supposed to do?" the little thing asked.
"Who was yer mentor?" she asked.
"Cristok." Grendze replied.
"Eh, dat one is dead..." the rogue said matter of factly. "Someone will be in touch... I certainly don't want any part of ya. Well, not a part you'd want me ta 'ave anyways..." Anaie licked her lips at the thought of cutting off part of the minion, but then remembered Mohan was still there... "Get outta our sight Minion!"
Grendze was startled slightly and made a rough attempt at a salute she believed before he vanished in a puff of smoke again and skittered out of the bar.
"Minions..." Anaie murmured to Mohan, as she turned and walked out. Popping the Eye of Magtheridon into her mouth like a piece of hard candy as she left.
He wouldn't be so stupid... would he? the rogue thought to herself as she slid off her saddle and silently dropped from the rooftop to the entrance. She had to see if the goblin was complying with the simple order she gave mere minutes ago... No one could be THAT foolish! she thought as she crossed the threshold of the tavern and spotted the foul little being.
Apparently, some COULD be that stupid... the little bastard had on the Grim colors once again!
Motha... the rogue thought as she crept up behind the oblivious minion. "What is dat I see on yer chest Minion?!" the Forsaken bellowed at the top of her lungs in the small bar.
Grendze jumped up with a start, and immediately tried to end his conversation and sneak away, but the old rogue was a bit faster and grabbed the little goblin by the ear.
She began berating the poor little thing, and was perhaps thinking of killing it, when the Irredeemable of the Grim, Mohan entered the tavern, no doubt hearing the Forsaken yelling. He strolled up to the two as only a Tauren can, and silently stared at the goblin. The Eagle's Eye noticed the minions breach of Grim policy immediately, but said nothing... he just loomed over the tiny creature.
Anaie hardly missed a beat in her threats of punishments on the little creature, in fact she pointed out the skull helm that the Tauren hunter wore and threatened to turn the goblins skull into a tiny helm for Mohan's pet cat.
The two Grim officers had a bit of fun threatening the minion, before Anaie finally took the tabard from Grendze. Using a bit of slight of hand, she tossed some bundled cloth she had found earlier in the cooking fire of the tavern saying that the tabard "stunk of minion" and was "unclean."
Turning back to the goblin, she leaned forward to be eye to eye with it, her eyes hidden by the Cursed Vision of Sargeras. "Get outta my sight..." she told the creature. To which it just proceeded to stand there dumbfounded.
"What about my inquisition or whatever that thing is? Since my mentor is no longer around, what am I supposed to do?" the little thing asked.
"Who was yer mentor?" she asked.
"Cristok." Grendze replied.
"Eh, dat one is dead..." the rogue said matter of factly. "Someone will be in touch... I certainly don't want any part of ya. Well, not a part you'd want me ta 'ave anyways..." Anaie licked her lips at the thought of cutting off part of the minion, but then remembered Mohan was still there... "Get outta our sight Minion!"
Grendze was startled slightly and made a rough attempt at a salute she believed before he vanished in a puff of smoke again and skittered out of the bar.
"Minions..." Anaie murmured to Mohan, as she turned and walked out. Popping the Eye of Magtheridon into her mouth like a piece of hard candy as she left.
Fire catches wind
Qarosimae was in her study, lounging in her bathrobe with a book on the physics of the nether by a Draenei scientist, something rare in and of itself due to the religious followings of the demons, when Berk brought her a package. The orcling had changed his shaved head style for a topknot after reading a story about the blademasters of the Burning Blade clan, though it was black and red for the colors of the Grim, matching his tabard. "Package for you, boss," he said, his Thalassian only slightly accented. Qarosimae smiled, set down her book, and accepted the package. The package had no obvious note to mention who it was from, but Qarosimae instantly recognized Anaie's entropic script scrawling her name across the face of an attached envelope. Madness tainted everything she did, yet her lucidity at times could not be denied. It was the lucidity that made the madness more dominant. Inside the envelope was a note.
"I caught the minion Grendze wearin' dis twice...After I ordered its removal. I will make a note in the guild hall regarding my talk with him. -Anaie"
The note combusted, the ashes whisked away by an arcane touch into the fireplace. Qarosimae's right ear twitched. She looked up at Berk, who was half-grinning at Inzema, leaning on the back of Qarosimae's chair. "We gotsss a troublemaker, huh?" the undead said, his face, especially his mouth, spattered with blood fresh enough that it hadn't dried yet. He had likely stored a body somewhere in the Sanctum. Thrilling...
"Appears so. We should have a talk with him." Qarosimae pulled her robe tighter around her and stood, stretching her back and rolling her shoulders. "I will probably have to make a project of him. He may be able to determine something of Cristok's murder." "That ssso? Ya think I can't?" "I think any information you come up with will be tainted by the fact that you are a self-proclaimed madman with a taste for blood, and people would be unable to say with certainty if you had killed a Grim, because we know you will if you come up with something, purely for the sake of doing so." Inzema's grin did not slip, in fact it grew wider. His goggles clicked and whirred while he tapped the back of the chair with bony fingers. "Yeah, it'd be fun, but not worth the trouble."
Qarosimae rolled her good eye and waved a hand dismissively at him. "Find Grendze. I will be along shortly. I have to change." Inzema snapped to attention and saluted, a mockery of the salute of the Silvermoon guards. He vanished with a cackle like he was never there.
---~---
Grendze was pretty good at hiding. The tall folks paid less attention to him. That being said, it wasn't merely paranoia that kept giving him the feeling he was being watched. Grendze was walking towards the Valley of Wisdom through The Drag when he first sensed he was being watched, but the crowds of Orgrimmar prevented him from actually seeing if anyone actually was. It took too long and was too noticable for him to climb high enough to see above the others, and it was impossible to tell if someone was watching him by looking at their lower halves. To root out his follower, he took a sudden turn into the hallway to the Valley of Honor and watched. There, in the crowd, was a Grim tabard, moving purposely in his direction. Grendze cursed and weaved his way through the crowds with the ability only a Goblin rogue could hope to manage, dodging feet and hooves and all sorts of other legs.
When he stopped running, he was outside the bank. He ducked inside and hid in the shadows, crouching and waiting. The feeling of danger didn't diminish as the time went on, despite the coming and going of dozens of bank patrons with no sign of a Grim tabard. There shouldn't even have been a reason to fear the tabard, save that paranoid little voice that suddenly started screaming danger. Why...
"Oi, You're Grendze, yeah?"
The voice came from a man standing right in front of Grendze that definitely hadn't been there before, wrapped up in leather, with engineer's goggles over his eyes and a shark's grin, dozens of knives sheathed on his person and a Grim tabard on his chest. Grendze squeaked in surprise. "Ah, y-yes?" The paranoid voice was screaming. The man's grin grew wider. "Thought ssso. Q'sss gonna be along in a sssec. Let'sss go sssomewhere...quieter." With quickness that Grendze should have suspected, the undead grabbed him by the collar and dragged him around behind the bank.
---~---
Inzema was having fun scaring the Goblin. Spineless as it was, it was pretty easy, all he had to do was stand about, maybe juggle a knife or two, and look menacing, which really just consisted of smiling at the little green twerp. After the third time the Goblin tried to figure out what it would take to get him to go away, Qarosimae appeared in a flash of light, wrapped head to toe in her spell warded cloth armor, only her eyes visible behind her wire-framed glasses. She had dropped from a good ways up above and blinked to the ground, but the Goblin didn't know that. The sudden appearance of the mage, flaming sigils burning the air around her, elicited a squeal of terror from the goblin, which set Inzema to laughing.
Qarosimae pulled her pad from her belt and flipped through it until she found what she was looking for, Grendze's dossier. She scanned through it for a moment before looking back at the goblin. "You have been getting into trouble, haven't you, Grendze? Wearing a tabard, then defying an inquisitor by wearing it again. Tsk." Behind Qarosimae, Inzema began munching noisily on a hand he had pulled from one of the many pockets in his armor, crunching bones with as much effort as he tore flesh. Each crunch caused Grendze to spasm, the mental image of Inzema munching on his bones almost more than he could bear.
"Look, I'm sorry! It won't happen again! Just let me go and I swear I'll do whatever you want. Do you need anything? I can get what you need. I might already have what you need. What do you need?" Grendze's begging was interrupted by another squeak of terror when flames manifested around Qarosimae's hands. Behind her mask, she smiled and the flames went away. "Good, I have your attention now," she said calmly, the gem that served as her right eye glowing brighter. "We will see if you are worthy to remain Grim. We will have a special sort of inquisition for you, as you were once mentored, and are no longer. Bring me the name of Cristok's killer. Dismissed."
Qarosimae's command was all it took to send Grendze running, stumbling over his own feet in his hurry to get away from the mage and the undead, and he didn't stop running until he reached The Drag again. Back behind the Valley of Honor bank, Inzema cackled, clearly amused by the goblin's antics. Once his laughter died out, he stuffed the half eaten hand back into his pocket and replaced it with his dice, tossing them skywards casually and catching them without looking. "Think he can find out?" he asked. Qarosimae shrugged, her eye watching the crowds mill through the valley. "Maybe. If he cannot, I will have no use for him." Inzema nodded, casting the dice skyward one more time, this time letting them hit the ground. The bones bounced, landing with a pair of skulls facing skyward on one and five on the second. He hissed and gathered up his dice before Qarosimae saw the results, stuffing them back into his pocket. "Whatever happensss, it'sss gonna be bad juju. I'mma take off. Gonna go check on my project. You have fun with yoursss." The undead vanished as if he had never been there, leaving Qarosimae by herself with her thoughts.
"I caught the minion Grendze wearin' dis twice...After I ordered its removal. I will make a note in the guild hall regarding my talk with him. -Anaie"
The note combusted, the ashes whisked away by an arcane touch into the fireplace. Qarosimae's right ear twitched. She looked up at Berk, who was half-grinning at Inzema, leaning on the back of Qarosimae's chair. "We gotsss a troublemaker, huh?" the undead said, his face, especially his mouth, spattered with blood fresh enough that it hadn't dried yet. He had likely stored a body somewhere in the Sanctum. Thrilling...
"Appears so. We should have a talk with him." Qarosimae pulled her robe tighter around her and stood, stretching her back and rolling her shoulders. "I will probably have to make a project of him. He may be able to determine something of Cristok's murder." "That ssso? Ya think I can't?" "I think any information you come up with will be tainted by the fact that you are a self-proclaimed madman with a taste for blood, and people would be unable to say with certainty if you had killed a Grim, because we know you will if you come up with something, purely for the sake of doing so." Inzema's grin did not slip, in fact it grew wider. His goggles clicked and whirred while he tapped the back of the chair with bony fingers. "Yeah, it'd be fun, but not worth the trouble."
Qarosimae rolled her good eye and waved a hand dismissively at him. "Find Grendze. I will be along shortly. I have to change." Inzema snapped to attention and saluted, a mockery of the salute of the Silvermoon guards. He vanished with a cackle like he was never there.
---~---
Grendze was pretty good at hiding. The tall folks paid less attention to him. That being said, it wasn't merely paranoia that kept giving him the feeling he was being watched. Grendze was walking towards the Valley of Wisdom through The Drag when he first sensed he was being watched, but the crowds of Orgrimmar prevented him from actually seeing if anyone actually was. It took too long and was too noticable for him to climb high enough to see above the others, and it was impossible to tell if someone was watching him by looking at their lower halves. To root out his follower, he took a sudden turn into the hallway to the Valley of Honor and watched. There, in the crowd, was a Grim tabard, moving purposely in his direction. Grendze cursed and weaved his way through the crowds with the ability only a Goblin rogue could hope to manage, dodging feet and hooves and all sorts of other legs.
When he stopped running, he was outside the bank. He ducked inside and hid in the shadows, crouching and waiting. The feeling of danger didn't diminish as the time went on, despite the coming and going of dozens of bank patrons with no sign of a Grim tabard. There shouldn't even have been a reason to fear the tabard, save that paranoid little voice that suddenly started screaming danger. Why...
"Oi, You're Grendze, yeah?"
The voice came from a man standing right in front of Grendze that definitely hadn't been there before, wrapped up in leather, with engineer's goggles over his eyes and a shark's grin, dozens of knives sheathed on his person and a Grim tabard on his chest. Grendze squeaked in surprise. "Ah, y-yes?" The paranoid voice was screaming. The man's grin grew wider. "Thought ssso. Q'sss gonna be along in a sssec. Let'sss go sssomewhere...quieter." With quickness that Grendze should have suspected, the undead grabbed him by the collar and dragged him around behind the bank.
---~---
Inzema was having fun scaring the Goblin. Spineless as it was, it was pretty easy, all he had to do was stand about, maybe juggle a knife or two, and look menacing, which really just consisted of smiling at the little green twerp. After the third time the Goblin tried to figure out what it would take to get him to go away, Qarosimae appeared in a flash of light, wrapped head to toe in her spell warded cloth armor, only her eyes visible behind her wire-framed glasses. She had dropped from a good ways up above and blinked to the ground, but the Goblin didn't know that. The sudden appearance of the mage, flaming sigils burning the air around her, elicited a squeal of terror from the goblin, which set Inzema to laughing.
Qarosimae pulled her pad from her belt and flipped through it until she found what she was looking for, Grendze's dossier. She scanned through it for a moment before looking back at the goblin. "You have been getting into trouble, haven't you, Grendze? Wearing a tabard, then defying an inquisitor by wearing it again. Tsk." Behind Qarosimae, Inzema began munching noisily on a hand he had pulled from one of the many pockets in his armor, crunching bones with as much effort as he tore flesh. Each crunch caused Grendze to spasm, the mental image of Inzema munching on his bones almost more than he could bear.
"Look, I'm sorry! It won't happen again! Just let me go and I swear I'll do whatever you want. Do you need anything? I can get what you need. I might already have what you need. What do you need?" Grendze's begging was interrupted by another squeak of terror when flames manifested around Qarosimae's hands. Behind her mask, she smiled and the flames went away. "Good, I have your attention now," she said calmly, the gem that served as her right eye glowing brighter. "We will see if you are worthy to remain Grim. We will have a special sort of inquisition for you, as you were once mentored, and are no longer. Bring me the name of Cristok's killer. Dismissed."
Qarosimae's command was all it took to send Grendze running, stumbling over his own feet in his hurry to get away from the mage and the undead, and he didn't stop running until he reached The Drag again. Back behind the Valley of Honor bank, Inzema cackled, clearly amused by the goblin's antics. Once his laughter died out, he stuffed the half eaten hand back into his pocket and replaced it with his dice, tossing them skywards casually and catching them without looking. "Think he can find out?" he asked. Qarosimae shrugged, her eye watching the crowds mill through the valley. "Maybe. If he cannot, I will have no use for him." Inzema nodded, casting the dice skyward one more time, this time letting them hit the ground. The bones bounced, landing with a pair of skulls facing skyward on one and five on the second. He hissed and gathered up his dice before Qarosimae saw the results, stuffing them back into his pocket. "Whatever happensss, it'sss gonna be bad juju. I'mma take off. Gonna go check on my project. You have fun with yoursss." The undead vanished as if he had never been there, leaving Qarosimae by herself with her thoughts.
"Perfection is my goal. Stand in my way if you dare."