Fafnir
01-29-2008, 05:05 PM
The Blood Elves intrigued me.
Sure, they were flutey and prancy and they spoke a flowery language. But truth be told, my curiosity was piqued. The Vile Reef Cartel's numbers began to swell with the blasted things, which told me that more and more were making their way out from their shiny city and into the real world.
I quickly wrote up an order to cease the hiring of Sin'dorei. They were beginning to form cliques, and only I was allowed to be cliquey in my own organization.
They all seemed so.....pure, and pristine. Sickening, I know. But I just knew that, like all great civilizations, there was a seedy underbelly just waiting for me to sink my teeth into. I could alway use more contacts and agents.
Unfortunately, my exile (http://wow-tng.org/showthread.php?t=7295&highlight=exile) from the lovely Silvermoon would make make my investigation difficult, and I preferred a hands-on approach to my scouting.
I scoured my troves of fine silks and hijacked textiles and threw something together. My look complete, I infiltrated the flutey Elves to find their Black Markets and underworlds.
My first stop was a gathering. Or a protest. I wasn't sure, as my grasp of the Elven language was still not the greatest.
http://img155.imageshack.us/img155/7334/smcrowdei5.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
They seemed fired up about....something, but it wasn't what I was looking for.
I continued my search. Murder Row? Meh. I spent a good hour there, dropping lines and searching for rumors. Nothing.
A pair of Blood Elf sentries took interest in my pestering. I slipped down an alley, doubled back, jumped through a back window, and found a bench to lay low for a moment while the heat passed. I found some company. She was a quiet one.
http://img262.imageshack.us/img262/7746/smbenchrz5.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
I think she was on to me. I needed to move before their suspicions were aroused.
Ah! A pub. The seedy gathering of any well-to-do city. I was sure I would find some kind of organized crime there. I staked my place, retrieved a leaf of parchment to record any pertinent information, and blended in seamlessly to the background.
http://img262.imageshack.us/img262/1868/smbarkm3.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
They were arguing about what seemed like a woman. Something about this one was sleeping with that one, this one challenged that one's honor. I wasn't sure, I toned it out after a few minutes of the bickering.
I sighed. This was not what I was expecting. Even the pub was shiny, and it smelled of flowered water.
I would press on. It was a dirty job, but, well, let's face it, that's my business.
Sure, they were flutey and prancy and they spoke a flowery language. But truth be told, my curiosity was piqued. The Vile Reef Cartel's numbers began to swell with the blasted things, which told me that more and more were making their way out from their shiny city and into the real world.
I quickly wrote up an order to cease the hiring of Sin'dorei. They were beginning to form cliques, and only I was allowed to be cliquey in my own organization.
They all seemed so.....pure, and pristine. Sickening, I know. But I just knew that, like all great civilizations, there was a seedy underbelly just waiting for me to sink my teeth into. I could alway use more contacts and agents.
Unfortunately, my exile (http://wow-tng.org/showthread.php?t=7295&highlight=exile) from the lovely Silvermoon would make make my investigation difficult, and I preferred a hands-on approach to my scouting.
I scoured my troves of fine silks and hijacked textiles and threw something together. My look complete, I infiltrated the flutey Elves to find their Black Markets and underworlds.
My first stop was a gathering. Or a protest. I wasn't sure, as my grasp of the Elven language was still not the greatest.
http://img155.imageshack.us/img155/7334/smcrowdei5.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
They seemed fired up about....something, but it wasn't what I was looking for.
I continued my search. Murder Row? Meh. I spent a good hour there, dropping lines and searching for rumors. Nothing.
A pair of Blood Elf sentries took interest in my pestering. I slipped down an alley, doubled back, jumped through a back window, and found a bench to lay low for a moment while the heat passed. I found some company. She was a quiet one.
http://img262.imageshack.us/img262/7746/smbenchrz5.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
I think she was on to me. I needed to move before their suspicions were aroused.
Ah! A pub. The seedy gathering of any well-to-do city. I was sure I would find some kind of organized crime there. I staked my place, retrieved a leaf of parchment to record any pertinent information, and blended in seamlessly to the background.
http://img262.imageshack.us/img262/1868/smbarkm3.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
They were arguing about what seemed like a woman. Something about this one was sleeping with that one, this one challenged that one's honor. I wasn't sure, I toned it out after a few minutes of the bickering.
I sighed. This was not what I was expecting. Even the pub was shiny, and it smelled of flowered water.
I would press on. It was a dirty job, but, well, let's face it, that's my business.