Chikt

Flight of the Blackbird ((Open))

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It was another sunny day in Orgrimmar as Chikt sat at his desk. As always, his office was a mess – papers scattered everywhere, files stacked high, unfinished gadgets strewn about the room. It was chaotic, but everything had a place – and Chikt knew off the top of his head where to find guild bank records from a year back.

Usually he would be organizing, filing or tinkering – today, however, he sat staring at an envelope in his hands. It was old now, dating back to the foundation of the guild – sealed with a cross in black wax. It served a unique purpose. In the situation where the Patriarch was missing or dead, it gave orders as to what needed to be done.

And today, Chikt would open it.

Carefully breaking the black wax seal and opening the envelope, Chikt drew out the folded parchment inside it and scanned it with his eyes. He near immediately frowned, placed the parchment and envelope down on his desk and stared at it. He sat like this for a few seconds, trying to understand why Leoren would make such an order – before turning on a heel and wandering to one particularly messy stack of papers.

Rummaging through the pile, he pulled out a map. Looking over it and pausing thoughtfully for a long moment. He eventually nodded, tossed the map back to the stack of papers, and walked out of his office.

Several hours later, Chikt would be standing before a large warehouse. A deep rumbling groan came from within; its wide doors open, but only darkness lay beyond them.

And he smirked.

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Things had not gone as planned.

Chikt was escorted down a flight of stairs, held aloft by his wrists by two humans at his dies. They carried him along, his boots scuffing the wooden floor. He grumbled and squirmed slightly – he’d not been struck, and knew better than to put up a fight. The moment he’d been spotted, he’d surrendered – he was unarmed, and no way was he of all people going to fight. Not without any of his engineering kit backing him up.

The staircase was fairly short as they came into the room – nothing in it but a row of cells along the back wall, three in total. Two of the cells had their door ajar – one was closed, locked, and seemed to be occupied. It took Chikt a while to make out the figure, his eyes needing to adjust to the low light of the room. That’s when he finally made out the figure.

“Leoren?!”

The Paladin looked up from his slumped position against the wall. He’d grown a fairly scruffy beard from lack of care. Bruised and battered – he’d obviously been tortured recently for information. His surprise at seeing Chikt was obvious – looking at the Goblin as though he might actually be a figment of his imagination.

Chikt was literally tossed into an adjoining cell, hitting the floor with a thud and sliding into a wall. Scrambling to his feet, Chikt got to the cell door as it was slammed shut and locked. Grabbing the bars of his cell and rattling the door, he yelled, “Once the Raven Cross finds out where we are, you guys are going to pay!”

The two men paused mid stride. Leoren smacked his face with his palm. Silence filled the room. Chikt immediately knew he’d made a mistake. He quickly stuttered, “That is… once they hear about humans abducting good members of the Horde! Yeah! Then you’ll really get it!”

It was too late, the damage had been done. The two human men grinned at one another and walked back up the stairs. Chikt sighed and sat back against the wall. Pausing for a while before he looked to Leoren, “So… the guild says hi.”

Leoren just shook his head and sighed.

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Flyers start appearing in the Alliance cities and Dalaran.

Fair citizens of the Alliance!

I, Captain Judas Ackerson, have today dealt a great blow to the forces of the Horde. My men and I managed to intercept and capture not one but two of the leaders central to the leadership and organization of the Raven Cross, and today hold them captive and awaiting judgment.

A swift execution is inappropriate for figures of this stature – while we have them under guard and where the Raven Cross cannot find us, we have one of the guilds central to the Horde’s war efforts cornered. Now is the time to strike!

Gather your strongest, best and brightest and strike at the Horde and the Raven Cross while they are disorganized. We have set the terms of the release of their leadership – Disband or Die. And if the bastards choose to fight it - which they will - then we shall destroy them.

We’ve suffered at their blades for far too long. Now is the time!

For the Alliance!

-Captain Judas Ackerson

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Meanwhile in the Horde cities, different posters are being hung from noticeboards.

People of the Horde.

There is a group among your ranks known as the Raven Cross. This group has a ‘proud’ history among you as lawbreakers – people that overlook orders and rules in order to get their own way.

Years ago, many of the people that would become members of the Raven Cross were part of a massive jailbreak that resulted in the serious harm of several Silvermoon guards, the death of proud members of the Horde, and the destruction of public property all over Silvermoon.

We have proof that they then followed up this act several months later by organizing for the Alliance to attack Silvermoon. An attack that they would then defend in order to weasel their way back into the city proper.

These people are dangerous criminals without honor, unworthy of bearing trust or the right to claim themselves as being part of the mighty Horde. While they fight the Alliance, they have themselves betrayed and put at risk your own people.

They are now without leadership and disorganized, and we have respectfully asked them to disband their ranks indefinitely. We do not expect them to comply, and as such, they will be destroyed.

Supporting the Raven Cross will only get you destroyed in kind. Do not aid this group of terrorists!

-Captain Judas Ackerson

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Ivan Zephyr strolled through Stormwind with deliberate steps as always. He indeed hated traversing the town, especially since anyone with even the remotest gift to sense the Arcane scowled as he did so. He had learned to shrug this off by now, however, and proceeded towards The Slaughtered Lamb where he wouldn't have to be so on edge, even in "his" own city. An imp bounced up and down behind him, furthering the venomous looks the regular citizenry gave him.

As he passes by one of the fliers, he glances at it for a moment before halting and turning back towards the wall to read. Scanning the parchment for a moment, the Warlock shook his head in disbelief. Scoffing, he looks around in effort to validate his skepticism, the new Lieutenant badge glinting for a moment upon his robes. Any passerby would double take, wondering how the man held such a rank in the Watch. Nonetheless, he spoke, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.

"Idiocy. When will these stupid officials realize that such public executions do nothing but give a window for escape."

He turns from the wall, snatching the parchment from it.

"And I'm sure somehow they'll escape again. I severely doubt the Raven Cross are going to pack up--as much as I doubt that even if they DID, whoever these moronic guards have captured..."

He paused for a moment, thinking of the various members of rank they could have caught. That Undead, Yakoth, or perhaps that Blood Elf, Leoren, and then there was that other Elf, Izelle, and then the Tauren Diomades or Unulu or whatever he was. He had fought against them all at some point, the outcome more disastrous than he had wished. Although he attributed that more to the incompetence of his own allies than their battle prowess. He held no more or less contempt for them than he did any other member of the Horde -- or the Alliance. Realizing it really made no difference, he finished

"...would be set free."

Another sigh escapes his lips and he folds the parchment carefully and tucks it away within his robes, "Nonetheless...I assume I'll have to inform Omy. Just like how well our attack on Silvermoon ended up..." His lip curled at the mention of the attack that failed on the very drawing boards -- not even garnering enough attention for an attempt.

The imp, Pipjub, had been quiet the entire time, but snickered at this and added, in Demonic, it's voice quick and words mottled, "Just like when they were being held in Silvermoon, eh? They sure faced justice then, too..."

As quick as the Imp's laugh, so too was it's howl of pain as it ignited in fire for a moment, "Thank you for that addition, Pipjub, it was desperately needed."

Shaking his head in annoyance, he continued on without paying heed to his demon, who had hobbled over to the canal and jumped in the water before following behind once more.

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Kahra looked at the poster in disbelief. "Disband? Destroy us? By what means, crying at us after we've thrashed them?"

He read over the propaganda piece once more, and thoughts moved to the Patriarch, who had gone missing during his absence. He still remembered the day they'd met, standing out on the back bridge into Orgrimmar.

Still remembered the day he'd received his tabard, and the day he'd been told to ask himself why he wore it.

A lot had changed, since then.

He looked over at his whelpling, and the two nodded. He dug for his hearthstone, and though he considered his words carefully, he knew he didn't need to. For all of them, it had been too long.

Somewhere, their Patriarch awaited them.

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The group of elves had caught my attention first, all gathered outside the Inn like... well, like normal. It was the buzzing and anxious looks that made me curious. I made my way a bit closer, not stopping long enough to get noticed, but I was quite interested in what they were clamoring about. The names 'Raven Cross' and 'Disband' made me stop in my tracks. I frowned softly and made my way through the small crowd, looking up at a notice pinned to the wall.

'They are now without leadership and disorganized, and we have respectfully asked them to disband their ranks indefinitely. We do not expect them to comply, and as such, they will be destroyed.'

I growled softly, a few women in dresses taking steps away from the small, angry elf. Good, I thought, they would only be in my way and I'd hate to bowl over innocent people.

I took out my Hearthstone, speaking into it quickly. I may have laid down my tabbard, and perhaps I wasn't as smiled upon by the Ravens as I had once been, but regardless of that, Leoren was my friend and mentor and there was no way in Hell that I wasn't going to help.

Even without wings, they were still -my- people. I wasn't about to let them suffer this alone.

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"Bwuh? All I eva' see dis group do is sit on benches and cause mayhem and chaos amongst da humans and elves. Dere ain't no way I can condemn dat.

Sides, if dey stop killin', den dere be less blood for me grog."

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[quote name=

People of the Horde.

There is a group among your ranks known as the Raven Cross. This group has a ‘proud’ history among you as lawbreakers – people that overlook orders and rules in order to get their own way.

Years ago, many of the people that would become members of the Raven Cross were part of a massive jailbreak that resulted in the serious harm of several Silvermoon guards, the death of proud members of the Horde, and the destruction of public property all over Silvermoon.

We have proof that they then followed up this act several months later by organizing for the Alliance to attack Silvermoon. An attack that they would then defend in order to weasel their way back into the city proper.

These people are dangerous criminals without honor, unworthy of bearing trust or the right to claim themselves as being part of the mighty Horde. While they fight the Alliance, they have themselves betrayed and put at risk your own people.

They are now without leadership and disorganized, and we have respectfully asked them to disband their ranks indefinitely. We do not expect them to comply, and as such, they will be destroyed.

Supporting the Raven Cross will only get you destroyed in kind. Do not aid this group of terrorists!

-Captain Judas Ackerson[/font]

Redburn smirked after reading the pamphlet. He had heard of The Raven Cross of course. Who amongst the Horde has not. But he has always been too busy and preoccupied with The Crimson Lord's work to pay much attention to other matters.

This may prove to be an interesting diversion. After all, even an Historian needs some entertainment now and again.

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Keraph looked over the Alliance propaganda once more. He had copies of both posters, and had been considering his options for a short while. Finally, he grabbed a boney quill and, dipping it lightly in a jar of what could imaginably be red ink, began to pen a message.

Cross,

Your little problem is by now well-known to all, including those among the Dark Lady's elite who see your organization as one of the more competant among the Horde. In the interest of strengthening ties against the Alliance wretches, I hereby put foward Infection's assistance in resolving the matter, particularly should things escalate to violence. We desire no compensation for our services, only to observe and perhaps illuminate the strengths of an organized coordination of forces.

It is of little consequence should you desire to decline our assistance. However, as you have already learned, the Alliance have finally found a spine once more. It needs to be snapped in half, and you will find that we are well suited to such a task.

--Warlord Keraph Xalascent

Lifebane of Infection

Champion of the Dark Lady

Lifting his quill, he looks over the letter briefly before handing it off to a waiting retainer.

"Deliver this to ranking members of the Raven Cross. Duplicate it if necessary, but do not tarry. This is but a small step."

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Imara bent to scoop up her wind rider cub as she walked the path from the Elder Rise to the city center. Humming softly, she waved to the auctioneers and was considering doing some shopping until she noticed a small crowd gathered near the flight master's tower, pointing at a flyer.

Imara walked over to them, catching snippets of conversation.

"... More trouble than they're worth anyway."

"They're the only ones that bother..."

"Do you think they'll be killed?"

Slipping past the last few people as they walked away, Imara read the poster. Then she read it again. Absently petting the cub's head, she frowned. "Looks like the vacation is over."

Imara looked down at the cub. "Better get suited up. Seems we're going to be on duty for awhile."

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The Paladin, Necroxis Zephyr, strode slowly through Stormwind's streets with his female companion, her garb hiding her figure -- although close inspection could note the swelling over her stomach. Passing by one of the fliers, the two stop and exchanged surprised looks.

"You really think they managed to actually capture leaders of the Cross?" the man inquired.

Ranaynne shook her head in confusion, "I don't know...but surely the Watch should know about this..."

Nodding, her husband takes one of the fliers and folds it carefully, placing it in his bag before they continued on.

Elsewhere, the Warlock was already placing the flier upon the notice board in the Dusk Watch's compound, adding a note at the bottom:

"I expect those deputies to be dead soon, if not already...just be aware when the Raven Cross come to rescue them."

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The cloaked orc stood in the middle of Razor Hill, holding one of the notices firmly within his grasp. The tattered hood he usually wore was pulled back, his hair jet black, the roots showing a faint hint of gray at his scalp. His beard was the same, black with gray roots along his chin and jawline. Goggles covered his eyes, the small lights along the edges flashing rhythmically. A small wire ran from the side of the goggles to the orc's right ear. That weathered expression slowly curled into broad smile.

People of the Horde.

There is a group among your ranks known as the Raven Cross. This group has a ‘proud’ history among you as lawbreakers – people that overlook orders and rules in order to get their own way.

Years ago, many of the people that would become members of the Raven Cross were part of a massive jailbreak that resulted in the serious harm of several Silvermoon guards, the death of proud members of the Horde, and the destruction of public property all over Silvermoon.

We have proof that they then followed up this act several months later by organizing for the Alliance to attack Silvermoon. An attack that they would then defend in order to weasel their way back into the city proper.

These people are dangerous criminals without honor, unworthy of bearing trust or the right to claim themselves as being part of the mighty Horde. While they fight the Alliance, they have themselves betrayed and put at risk your own people.

They are now without leadership and disorganized, and we have respectfully asked them to disband their ranks indefinitely. We do not expect them to comply, and as such, they will be destroyed.

Supporting the Raven Cross will only get you destroyed in kind. Do not aid this group of terrorists!

-Captain Judas Ackerson

"Without honor is right," Broxigan muttered to himself as he shook his head and couldn't help but laugh. "This really is too good to be true. Thanks Vee." The goggles upon his face flickered brightly as he folded the parchment and slid it into one of the folds of his cloak. "Good to know at least some people came to their senses. Now, if only we could get them on board with the Grim and Infection and they will be in business. Set coordinates for Ratchet," Broxigan seemingly said to himself as he made his way over to Max, his riding wolf, "Our ship may be leaving soon. We need to check with the Dock Master."

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Aerian laughed as he read the Alliance Captain's messages. "More alliance treachery. What other reason would they have to aid the Horde, but to strike us from behind." He began to crumple the notes but decided to leaves them for Visca and Cerryan to look over. "I doubt the peace loving Cerryan will find any interest in this, but...it doesn't hurt to show him."

He sat down at his desk, pulling out a quill and bottle of ebony ink. He paused for a moment to think before he dipped his quill and began to write out a few lengthy notes.

To the remaining Leaders of the Cross, if any,

We, I speak for the Order of Eversong, have taken the time to review the lengthy accusation that this Captain Judas Ackerson has placed against your ranks. It has come to our attention that your patrons are in danger once more and as it was done in the past, it will be done so again. We are stepping up to fight along side you as we did a few years back.

The humans and their Alliance are taking advantage of the weak bond our city has with the Horde and it will not be tolerated. As a representative of this humble order, I ask that you allow us to be your light once more.

As the accusation comes from an untrustworthy source, we will not hold it against you. Anyone that chooses to harass you and your flock while in our city will have the Order at their necks.As defenders of Silvermoon, which you have proven to be time and time again, you are encouraged to enter the city, free of any reprimanding.

The last issue I wish to address would be that of the the captured patrons and or leaders. We are willing to lend out any forces neccessary to assist you in, safely, evacuating the hostages all while eradicating the hostile threats and or jailers of said leadership. As Ranger-Captain of the Flock of Ravens, I will do what I can to lend you the forces of the Farstriders as well.

As formal as this letter may sound, know that we are outraged by the actions of the Alliance against our fellow Horde members. Please take our interest in this matter as more than obligation to the Horde.

-From the Militant Branch of the Order of Eversong,

Ranger-Captain and Master Aerian Ravenwing.

Another parchment was placed on the desk and again Aerian continued writing. "If no one will take charge of this matter, then I will do so myself."

Citizens of Silvermoon.

Do I need to remind you of the treachery of the Alliance?

Do I need to remind you of the countless assaults our city has had to endure because of the Alliance?

It is evident that this conspiracy, this act of ill will towards the Raven Cross, is nothing more than one Judas Ackerson attempting to sever the already weak bond we share with the other Horde capitals.

I hereby declare, that any, who chose to harass those of the Cross and or their allies, will be take care of immediatly. We have no time to waste fighting our amongst ourselves. If you feel any anger, direct it towards the Alliance.

Ranger-Captain Aerian Ravenwing

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aerian approached Draco Visca's quarters. He knocked with a sense of authority and awaited to be responded to. A moment later he was greeted by the paladin with a confused look.

"Forgive me for the unscheduled meeting, but we must discuss this Raven Cross issue. Whether or not it was out of line to do so, I have taken the liberty of offering them our assistance."

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Unulu stared at the parchment in his hands. Parchment signed by Judas Ackerson.

He'd tried - unsuccessfully - once before to end the mans life, and he'd failed. And now because of that failing, he'd come back to bite them all in the ass. Now he had the upper hand, he was prepared, he'd have a force of soldiers ready at his side...

"And he's still going to die," Unulu grumbled, crumpling the parchment in his fist and tossing it aside.

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Somewhere in Un’goro Crater and the Golakka Hot Springs Rikt was enjoying a nice relaxing bath in one of the natural geothermal pools. His clothes were only a few feet from the edge of the spring, but even closer was his rifle, which was practically right under his arm.

Rikt was on one of his solo hunts, and although it looked like procrastination to the untrained eye, he knew that Devilsaurs came for you sooner or later. Dynamite flanked Rikt from all sides where there was solid ground, and if a Devilsaur decided to charge at him, that dino would get a present from below.

At the moment the goblin was reading the Gazette with one hand and held a cigar in the other. Coming across the part about the notices, Rikt gave an exasperated sigh.

“Aw, what the hell. Maybe Chikt will come in and save them via Zeppelin… if he has enough of um that is.” Rikt chuckled, but then his ears began to droop.

“Actually, that joke is getting kinda stale now. Shit, why do I care? Them Cross folks can get in as much trouble as they want, it's got nothing to do with ol’ me.” Rikt took a puff from his cigar as he set the Gazette aside.

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"Oh-oh ! Ah-ha!" he screamed. "A problem that needs solving. A kill must happen" But where to start ? Slurf didn't knew at all, the name on the flier was new to him.. even when he was in services of Lordaeron. Perhaps it was one of Stormwind's. Then again, perhaps he did heard the name before. Nonetheless.. without any information he could not solve the problem.

Resuming his search for the twin axe, Doom's Edge, Adokas (which is Slurf's human name) headed to the Barrens due to rumors of goblins or citizen of Crossroad having some information about it. Upon landing to crossroad via the wyvern service, a group was formed in the middle of it. Curious about it, he approached it without attracting too much attention.. but wait ! It is a Raven Cross tabard! "My lucky day" He hid behind a cart and started listening to the conversation.. or rather spying as some would say.

At first, they were talking about a certain Warveen which died.. tsk nothing interesting.. but then again that was a problem that got fixed. And then he heard it, Captain Judas Ackerson was said. "Hehe finally, now for noties" He took out his little note book and a little pen. Not much information was revealed sadly, aside for the past of Ackerson and how one of them fought him and failed to kill. Their conversation eventually came to an end, as they switched to a more casual conversation about their women or something like that, something boring!

93822859.jpg

Not much information was gathering sadly, but the past of this Judas was enough to know where to search for more. His search started at the friendly inn in the Arathi Highland.. the owner had nothing to share... or rather didn't want to for some reason. So Slurf took out his axe and chop her into piece. "Problem fixed, next"

Maybe going to an undead inn wasn't best idea.. they can be easily bridled ((is that the word ?)) So, to menethil harbor ! The sailors there were sure to have some information of some sort, specially with all the criminals, spies and such hanging in harbors nowadays.

Alas... the humans proved to be more of a problem then a source of reliable help.. So.. Slurf killed them all. "Kill, will fix your problem" as he hit someone with his axe on the chest. But his search was not in vain, as for he had information as to where to find Doom's edge, the black rock mountains.

27311960.jpg

Slurf was happy, yet unhappy, he didn't solve the Raven Cross problem yet. More kills to do.

((Decided to put some images with replies now >.> ))

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"Huh." Sulras stared at the flier in his hand, but it was difficult considering he had drank one too many. Though, being blind in his left eye did not exactly help his reading, either. He opened his mouth, unable to fathom any further words. His mind went at a plodding pace, unable to immediately comprehend the danger Raven Cross were in. When it dawned on him, Sulras tossed the flier aside and shouted.

"I'll be damned! Not to worry, I'm coming to save you, Chikt! Or Leoren! Or Yatokth! Or whoever is in charge!"

The Sin'dorei took a moment to compose himself, then stumbled out the inn in a not-so-hidden drunken state.

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Skaadvik read the flier, flask in hand, in the Trade District of Stormwind. This guy is an imbecile, he thought to himself. Should've just beheaded them both and thrown their bodies in the gutter. "Trial..." what a fucking joke. When they do escape, I'll be waiting for them.

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Arokai climbed the stairwell leading up to Chikt's office. In his hand he clutched one of the various fliers strewn about the Horde cities. He reached the top of the stairs, and stopped at the closed door, and knocked five times, remembering the delayed pauses after the second and before the fifth, just as Chikt liked.

Nothing.

Arokai waited a few moments before trying the same combination again.

Still nothing.

"Chikt!" Arokai called out. "Are you in there? Come on, it's Arokai. Open up! Chikt? Chikt?!"

"Shut up!" someone screamed from a building across. Arokai, realizing the volume of his voice at such a late hour, stopped calling, and leaned back against the wall, his hand holding his chin as he pondered. As he thought, his eyes moved down towards the door's handle and he quirked his brow. I don't suppose it could hurt to try it. He thought to himself as his hand reached for the handle. He turned it, and pushed carefully. Miraculously, the door creaked open, and Arokai made his way into the room.

This place is a Gromdamned mess. Arokai thought to himself as he stepped over some sort-of unfinished mechanism. There was truth to his words. The entirety of the office was cluttered with forms, papers, and various gadgets of all sorts of variety.

"Chikt? Are you in here, Chikt?" he called quietly, but there was no answer to greet him.

Hell. That asshole could be dead in here and it'd be months before his body were ever found. He thought to himself, a broad smirk on his face. He knew Chikt wasn't dead. He spent enough time around goblins to know that no matter what their personality is like, when they go, they go loud. The fact that the goblin was not in his office, however, was unsettling to the Orc. Chikt never left his office.

Arokai moved through the office, careful not to step on any of the gadgets, and making a clear point to avoid the particularly dangerous ones altogether. He reached Chikt's desk, and found it to be, like much of the rest of the place, completely covered with papers. However, on top of the pile, lay an envelope, it's black wax seal broken, and a clean piece of parchment next to it.

Arokai took the letter, and read...

Chikt,

Should you ever need to open this letter it is likely myself or whoever the current Patriach is has died or gone missing. We knew this situation was always a possibility. In the case that this happens, new leadership will need to step up to the plate if Prime Commanders are also nowhere to be found.

As such, these are your orders. Along with another Officer of your choosing, you will both become new Prime Commanders for the Raven Cross and lead it until such a time as you believe the Patriach is never coming back. At that point, you - or a peson of your choosing - will step up to become the next patriach.

I know this is a lot of pressure on you and that you have never led a force like this, but as one of the last remaining founders of this guild it is your responsibility to lead it in the coming days.

Be safe,

-Leoren Evershine

Arokai ruffled his brow as he finished reading it. Although the letter suggested a possible promotion, that thought was far from Arokai's mind. The Patriarch and the Commander were both missing, and Chikt nowhere to be found as well. Arokai folded the letter, placing it back into the envelope. He tucked the envelope into his tabard, and as he was leaving the desk noticed a crumpled piece of paper on the desk. Arokai picked up the note, and read it aloud. "Take inventory on Warehouse 7." He shrugged, and tucked it into his tabard as well. He finally made his way out of the office, again careful to avoid the various gadgets strewn about the ground.

As he stepped out into the stairwell, he carefully shut the door behind him. He hated the idea of leaving the office unlocked, open for anyone to jump in and ransack it, but there wasn't much he could do.

As he walked down the stairwell, he pondered the note. Why would Chikt do inventory at a time like this? he thought.

Suddenly he stopped, his eyes widened with realization.

There are only six warehouses.

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Knocking. One of the rare occasions he actually had time to come back to the manor for rest, and he was disturbed by knocking. His eyes would open, the room slightly lit by their green glow, would move for his shield next to his bed, rising, a feat he had learned from his constant use of armor, he'd brush back a strand of silvery-white hair, moving cautiously towards the door, shield risen and ready for any need... He'd unlock the door... Five times, before cracking the door open to look out. With a confused quirk of his brow, he'd ask, "Aerian, what are you--"

"Forgive me for the unscheduled meeting, but we must discuss this Raven Cross issue. Whether or not it was out of line to do so, I have taken the liberty of offering them our assistance."

Visca's eyes would widen for a split second before turning in a glare, his tone changing just as fast, "You. Did. ...What?!" Swinging the door open, he'd motion Aerian to come in, looking around outside before shutting the door, and taking to his Communicator, sighing, "Cerryan, you are requested to join Aerian and I in a discussion of important matters in my chambers." Grumbling a "Please copy." as a last bit, the sleep he was in still lingering slightly, before shooting another glare at the Farstrider.

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Oraph was shocked a little by the letter. To be frank about it, he never met his own organisation leader, Leoren.. and well barely knew Chikt. Well, he vaguely met the goblin at his office in order to join the Raven Cross. But seing this and hearing about it from other members of the cross, Oraph thought of their leader being not so strong.. Then again, anything could have had happened for him to get captured.

Sadly, Oraph couldn't make it to the Raven's meeting, being stuck in an important battle for the horde, and was uninformed about the plan of action they would take. Surely by now they would have checked Chikt office for clue or so...

"I should probaly seek one of the Arbiter" he said to Mr Gry, a little rock that he held in his palm of his hand. "We should also go commune with he spirit, if they happened to be witness of this event, but aside that, nothing much we can do about it until we meet the others" A moment of silence followed, Oraph was watching and listenning to the rock... even though it was not emitting any sounds at all.

Words that was said from Gry made him worried.. "Gry, for the first time I must agree" Oraph replied " We'll see how things will move"

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Dust.

Man, there was a shit load of dust here.

Thalarios grimaced, stretching his already strained cowl over the bridge of his nose. The less dirt getting up there the better; he wasn’t as persistent with his cleanliness these days (mostly due to the lack of his masculine charm to women ratio). The sun’s deep, red hue shone through the thin, leather tarp he was using as shade, and the uncomfortable warmth of an Orgrimmar mid afternoon was getting to the Mage. He longed for the cool breeze of the South Seas, which had whispered sweet nothings into his tired ears for weeks prior. He missed the heavy air of the jungle, which filled his lungs with a sense of adventure; and the exhilaration of stalking live prey in the evening showers. Most of all though, he would have to miss that cute Night Elfish (Maybe she was a tanned High Elf, he could never tell which way the ears were supposed to go) waitress that gave after-hour “orders” on the fifth level of the Undermine Trade District. Man, those were some goo-

“Hey Red, got something for you.”

The Mage was quickly lulled out of his wet daydreams by an ominous figure, towering over him in his make-shift camp (which was set up underneath a small outcropping of rocks, just outside the Valley of Strength). As his eyes slowly adjusted to the light, he made out some meaty, Orcish hands that clutched a rolled up piece of parchment. He grunted slightly, raising his eyes to meet the Orc’s shrouded face.

“It better be important, Green. You’re on my vacation hours.”

The Orc loosened the straps of his goggles in a suave, nonchalant manner; the toothy grin that lit up his face grew increasingly wide. “You worked with these guys, right Thal?” He tossed the rolled up parchment at the Mage, which landed on the ground with a dusty ‘poof’ in front of Thalarios. “Because they’re in some deep shi-“

“Whoa, whoa!”

“First off,” Thalarios stopped midsentence to look around to spot if anyone had heard the Orc’s earlier words (as you could never be too careful in this city). Seeing the area was deserted, he turned back to ‘Green’ with a stern glare. “Don’t blow my cover this early man; we have codenames for a reason!”

The Orc’s protests were cut short by the Mage’s words yet again.

“SECONDLY, lemme see that.”

Thalarios snatched the notice from the rocky dirt it was resting upon and quickly unfurled it with both hands, muttering in-between tugs on the linen string about “work hours”. He studied it for a moment, his eyes darting from bottom to top several times before he finally looked back up at the patiently waiting Orc.

“Where’d you find this?”

‘Green’ pointed to several locations around the Valley of Strength, motion towards the Auction House last. “They’re all over the damn place man; you can’t walk ten feet without running into one.” He added quickly, “these guys sound like they’re in some real shit now.”

Thalarios took another few seconds to hover over the parchment, before quickly shoving it in an open pouch and removing himself from the ground.

“I should probably do something about this, what with the whole fact that I founded the damn organization.” He grabbed his robes lower section with both hands, and shook it violently; clumped up dirt and sand falling in vast amounts. He stared absently at a docked Zeppelin high above the cities conventional towers for a few minutes, before finally shifting his gaze back to the still-awaiting Orc. "Watch over my camp while I'm gone, and there WILL be hell if you touch anything." Thalarios took a few steps towards the Valley of Strength before turning on his heel and staring down the Orc. "Also, these are going under work hours."

“I'll be damned if I miss any of my vacation time.”

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It had been a wonderful two week hiatus for Szordrin. After the numerous expeditions into the Icecrown Citadel and hundreds of patients to take care of in the preceding weeks, he had decided to take a much needed vacation. The time spent away was mostly enjoyable with Carmensita. He had been treating her wounds for over a year now and finally deemed her far enough into her recovery for travel.

After meanderings around his flat for a while, thinking of where to start with getting back on track with helping the 'new' leadership of the guild. Afterall, Yatokth and Leoren had been gone for some time now and Diomades was literally a shell of what he once was now that Unulu resided within his body. Szordrin honestly felt a bit alone, always the youngest of the leadership he never quite felt like he was ready to take on such a task that his mentors had. He let out a long, defeated sigh for a moment before reminding himself that no one will be around forever but the memories would. For the most part, the residing officers had done an exceptional job or so Szordrin had thought.

A few moments after attempting to cheer himself up, he made his way toward his desk. There were a number of envelopes stacked next to his medical books that he hadn't had before.

After sifting through a few, some addressed from neighboring Horde guilds, it became apparent that somehow, for some reason, the Raven Cross was in trouble. Of course, he barely knew why since he hadn't seen the posters yet.

"God damnit... If I hadn't spent all three weeks ago trying to fix things with the Silvermoon Embassy.."

It wasn't until the very last piece of parchment that he found would be the propaganda posters, both from Orgimmar and Stormwind. The news explaining the capture of two officers to the Raven Cross came as a low blow, cramping his stomach and nearly felt like the wind would be knocked out of him. Without knowing of Chikt's missing, Szordrin quickly assumed it to be Leoren and Yatokth.

"Carmen!" He shouted from his room.

"What, lovie?"

"I wont be home for dinner!" And with that, he grabbed his recently tossed belongings and headed off toward Chikt's offices. In the distance, he could barely hear her banter about his quick exit. All he could make out was about something being a mongrel, nothing new anyway.

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Cerryan stepped into the Visca manor, having responded to Draco's call and making his way to Silvermoon from the Northern front.

Aerian divided the letters amongst the two paladins. "I would like for the both of you to have a look at these. One was a little more difficult to come by than the other...however...the means of which I obtained it is of no importance."Cerryan and Visca looked over the letters they were handed, a look of concern crossing Cerryan's face. Aerian continued to talk as the two began reading. "As I had told the Highlord before you arrived, I offered the Raven Cross the aid of the Order once more."

Cerryan nodded. "The Cross may not be the allies they once were, but Sir Leoren deserves better than captivity.

"No one is for certain that Leoren Evershine is the one being held captive. For all we know it could be the shaman, or the other paladin...Szordrin." Interrupted Aerian, smiling at the mistaken paladin

"I only assumed....it is he that has been unheard from the longest."

"Of course, it was a safe assumption."

Visca, having read the letter given to him, looked back up at Aerian. "You Do realize we have offered aid to these ingrates in the past, yes? And we were treated with Disdain, Distrust, and they shut us out of any operations without so much as a 'Thank you'?"

Cerryan looked to his leader. "At the same time, sir, we were the ones to stand up and oppose our own first, for the sake of their safety. Their cause is sound, though their methods are questionable.

"Questionable, At Best that is," responded the High lord.

Giving Visca a wicked grin, Aerian responded to Cerryan. "Yes, yes indeed. I acknowledge both points of argument, but lets be rational here. It is in OUR best interest to aid them once more, regardless of their ungrateful nature." Visca looked at Aerian, responding in a distasteful tone. "When is losing valuable Sin'dorei lives on a lost cause in our best interest?"

"When is letting others suffer in our best interest?" answered Cerryan.

Aerian looked between the two, the smile never leaving his face. He then focused on Draco, waiting for a reply.

"When Justice is served, perhaps?"

"Justice will not be served by the execution of past allies."

"Will it not be? You both have heard the stories, have you not? What they have done? Killing children?"

"I've heard no such word. I am aware of the extreme nature of the Cross, but the slaughter of children is not something I recall"

"High lord, with all do respect, I have fought alongside them many times. I have yet to see them strike a child." Added Aerian.

"They have marched into civilian territory of Alliance cities, areas of commerce, and I heard it was a Kal'dorei child... Illisade's, if I remember correctly. If it is not true, which I have no proof other than reports of such from disgruntled members who have left their cause, it still worries me to think we would ally with someone with such a reputation. It makes for poor politics."

"Saving lives is not about politics, sir. I'll not be part of an organization that sacrifices others for the sake of prestige. To my knowledge, that is precisely the attitude we were formed to rebel against."

Aerian tries to hide a chuckle. "Forgive me. I find it kind of funny that I am in somewhat of an agreement with Cerryan."

"I'm not condoning their actions, Aerian. But that doesn't mean that they deserve captivity and execution."

"I would not sentence them to death over prestige, however... I worry that we may be on the wrong side. By all accounts, their kind's actions are the reason there are renewed pushes into our own city in vengeance. Would saving terrorist lives be in our people's best interests?"

"Do you forget, sir, that the Order of Eversong was long known as a terrorist organization? By the very city we sought to protect, no less."

Draco looked long and hard at Cerryan as he brought up such an argument, before sighing. "...No. I have not. Perhaps Terrorist was the wrong word here." Moving from the group, towards the window, he took a breath before letting out another defeated sigh. "I do not condone their actions. You understand this? They fight to ruin our dreams for our people. However..." Visca paused. "...I am no fool, they retain perhaps the biggest military force not in direct control of the Warchief or Sylvanas." Draco wearily looked at his two officers. "If we are wrong to help these renegades. Light have mercy on our souls. For we will be responsible for the death of our race."

Cerryan laughed lightly. "Per usual sir, you have a flair for the dramatic. I'll take such words with a grain of salt; I hardly anticipate such repercussions for actions taken to aid the Cross.There will be retaliation, no doubt. But we will be prepared to face it. And no doubt, the Raven Cross will be by our side when we do so."

"Will they? Really? Where was their aid when We needed them? Where was the aid in the fight against the Magistrate? No. Expect us to be alone still. I would hate to see you disappointed when they leave us for dead... Again."

"Sir, respectfully..."Cerryan hesitated for a moment before continuing."You have very little clue what you're talking about. It would likely be best for you to restrain such outbursts in the future."

Aerian clapped his hands together in satisfaction, attempting to change the pace of the discussion. "It seems that the next order of business would be to address the Cross ourselves. I have written out a letter, which will not require much looking over, and have sent it."

Draco, as if ignoring Aerian, continued his argument with Cerryan. "I have not forgotten when they vanished in the middle of the night while we stayed to protect Sir Leoren. We remained in that Pirate's Ship for too long, only to find they were already gone. Nothing so much as a note in explanation."

"ENOUGH...gentlemen." Aerian sighed in frustration, pushing for a change of topic. "We have more important matters to attend to than to dwell on the past." Cerryan remained quiet, looking despondently out the window "In order to think of the future, you must refrain from living in the past...or whatever Faelenor said. I don't remember. It was all to flowery for my taste."

Draco turned his gaze upon the Farstrider "I have not forgotten how you jumped into this. Due to your insight in helping the Cross, you will be leading a small force to aid them. Understand, we are risking lives in this effort. I do hope you take a cautious approach?" Aerian gave a hearty laugh. "High lord, I take offense to your doubt. Know that every step I take is and will be planned ahead of time. I don't take chances with the alliance." Visca, being gruff in his response, replied, "Good. Understand that we should Expect to be alone. I doubt their selfish manners have changed since we talked to them last, where they threatened us for the use of diplomacy. You Will be reporting to me, understand? Any sign of treachery. Anything that makes this more than we bargained for, and we will pull out, even if to regroup and take matters into our own hands. Pity we need to make an incident out of this, but with how treacherous the Alliance is... I suppose this is unavoidable."

Aerian pats Cerryan on the shoulder. Leaving his hand there, he responds. "Well spoken, both of you. I will seek out one of the leaders of the Cross and talk about this matter in more detail. If either of you feel the need to come along, I will not stop you. Otherwise, do not let me keep you from more pressing matters. I know how busy the two of you are."

Cerryan nodded "There is still work to do in the North. I will take my leave to return to my duties there." He looked towards Draco "Lord Visca...my apologies for the outburst. I did not mean to speak out of turn."

"I would perfer my officers speak their mind, it keeps us on the same page. I understand your concern." Visca turned to his brother, smiling for a moment before his face turned back into the frown "I only hope we are right in this decision. We don't have the numbers to spare on foolish endeavors."

Aerian removes his hand and smiled at Cerryan. "Where would we be if we were unable to speak our mind...oh yes...we would still be under the leadership of one Prince Kael'thas." Aerian looked back towards Draco.

Cerryan acknowledged Aerian and responded to Visca."I understand, sir. Trust that I have faith in this being the proper course of action."

"I trust you, I just don't trust them."

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