A Missive

[Rhowen-Prea]

(( Cross-posted from the TN forum, really just here to count amongst you.))

The following letter is written in smooth, pristine Troll, almost certainly by a female hand. It is tacked to the wall at the front gates to Orgrimmar, having appeared some time in the night, most likely during the ensuing chaos of the Lunar Festival. It reads as follows:

To my sweetest Nkaga and Bumboclot,

You have wounded my pride this evening. And I fear the only way it can be soothed is with the blood of Horde younglings. When the younglings wail, "Slaughter!" I hope you are as brave as you were this evening, and stand up to the responsibility.

A lesson must be taught - accept the hospitality your elders offer. The contrary is far less pleasant.


~ The Kestrel


(( I apologize for the meta-gaming of using their names, but had to direct it at them. I realize they don't check these boards, but... eh, what can you do? ))

[Darkblade]

Passing through the gates of the mongrel city again, having a need of their "rapid" transportation across Kalimdor, Darkblade spies the note, and casually glances at it.
Unable to recognize the smooth, pristine, Troll scripting, she merely shrugs and continues her journey.

[Bloodscream]

Bloodscream spied the younglings as he entered Orgrimaar. He saw them reading a note pinned to one of the pillars near the entrance. He heard their agitated babblings, he heard a name... Bumboclot.

The orc stopped and called out to them.

"Wass dat say bout Bumboclot?" he asked no one in particular.
"Not sur mon." came a trolls response.
"Wass da tone troll?" the large orc bellowed back.
"Sounds like he upset some Alliance or sumtin boss." the troll supplied.

Bloodscream shook his head as he entered the city.
"Only one?" he mumbled to himself as the sights and sounds of Orgrimaar came to life around him.
"I WILL need to talk to dat boy..."