Kyrion

Illisade Shadesong

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Akula snorts, eyes crinkling to a hint of a grin under her mask, "Ah Illisade..." She chuckles and shakes her head, arms crossed over her chest. "Cheeky bastard wouldn't stop beatin' me down fer the longest time, all 'cause of my Cross tabard."

"Afta a bit of a chat wit 'im by a few dat I knew, eventually gittin' a chat wit 'im myself, tings calmed down."

"What? No, I actually mean a chat in its literal term, not a beatin'. I dun stab 'im, 'e dun stab me." She wiggled her three fingers at the questioner, "It be a bit more challengin' den ja tink, oh so many times it woulda just taken not even a spell but da blunt end of my dagger ta take 'im down...."

The trolless sighs heavilly, "But a pact is a pact, if dere be one ting I want people ta know 'bout me it's dat I keep my word."

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He's an interesting fellow. I met him when...

*Arkaydos' scaly nostrils flare*

Do you smell something? Wait... BY ZAETAR, I LEFT MY FISH-STICKS IN THE OVEN!

Hang on, fish sticks! I'll save you!

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Well, he didn't murder me, no matter how many times he asserted that he could. So I guess I sort of trust him.

Either that or he's a sadist and that's what he wants me to think. And then he'll have a lot of fun stabbing me when I least expect it.

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-The image is recently familiar to her. With a steely gaze and an arched brow she responded to the inquiry-

"Mn, why shoul' I tell you eh?" she murmured and pinned up her hair, fastening her goggles and toolbelt."Tha man works fo' me, an' tha's all you need ta know abou' that."

She knelt to fasten the buckles at her boots and gloves and swaggered towards the back entrance "Don' go followin' me now..."

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While riding at the side of the warlord, out in front of the mighty forces of Infection, I saw a someone moving in and out of the shadows. The warlord mentioned the name Illisade, and I believe this is who I saw. He didn't seem to try and kill any of the officers, which would have been certain death for him. I figured he would snag up a straggler or something, and good riddance if they can't keep up.

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He smiles. "I have no problem with this man. Met him at the ball held by the Pale Heart. Seems to be a fan of Ryoku's. That alone makes him alright in my book."

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"Illisade? Oh, the hot-blooded Kal'dorei I met in Dalaran. He seemed unusually kind for one of his ilk, although he seems to also be very, very good at making strong enemies and perpetuating those grudges.

"I'm just concerned that his passion for his beliefs or the way he carries emotions on his sleeves is going to get him killed one day, or worse."

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I shall be repositioning the political clout of my House to have this individual found, bound, and paraded through the streets of Orgrimmar as the helling vagabond and war-criminal he is.

Lysimachus takes a sip of his frothy white beverage, then looks back up, leering at you.

Perhaps, as you seem to be performing your research of this creature so fervently, we can come to some sort of... arrangement?

The Marquess grins, motions towards you, and your consciousness fades.

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Boudikas lip begins to curl into a snarl

Ive, seen him and I don't care much for him, or a particular little gutter speak puppy that follows him about.

I suppose I would feel differently if I met him in battle. You know, the one place to earn and gain respect. But naw, I first met him loitering around the Filthy Animal. After being asked politely to leave us to our peace he blatantly refused. I suppose arrogance like that comes from some kind of self-important sense of being, or maybe he is just reveling in the fact that none of his enemies can touch him in Dalaran, and goes about shoving it in their faces.

Boudika gazes over the goblins shoulder and stares into the fire for a few seconds then shakes her head back to the present moment, takes a deep breath and smiles at the goblin

We're done here.

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"I don't know if I should consider this guy, annoying, or just weird. He's constantly jammering at me about how the people I am associated with were somehow insanely bad people, of which he could give no reason why, and continually bad-mouthed many people I held in high reverance, other then that, he just seems weird, don't know him much, can't stand the constant stream of Bile that spouts from his lips."

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*The elf bounces on her toes to get a good look at the picture. She smiles faintly, more of a smirk.*

So that's what my Da looks like?

*She tilts her head to get a better look.*

Does he always wear the mask? I think he has a pretty face under there, he just likes to hide it, y'know? I had to have gotten my eyes from him... if only I could see what color they were...

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*The elf bounces on her toes to get a good look at the picture. She smiles faintly, more of a smirk.*

So that's what my Da looks like?

*She tilts her head to get a better look.*

Does he always wear the mask? I think he has a pretty face under there, he just likes to hide it, y'know? I had to have gotten my eyes from him... if only I could see what color they were...

((...I didn't see that coming.))

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Joringil fidgets when the name comes up, however she forces herself to smile anyway. "Well he's a strong willed fellow to say the least... we've butted heads. A lot. And I wear plate mail... But yeah... forgive and forget..."

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"What should I say? I've met him once and I can't say that I trust him. He wounded Lady Trystanel, which is not acceptable at all, however she did not ask for his head so he still lives." The death knight leans toward the interviewer with a grin before speaking quietly. "It would be a bloody good fight though if she did."

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*shifts her stance, in thought, then smirks evily* Illisade...yeah I know of this infamous rogue. To bad he wouldn't come out and play on his venture into Silvermoon durring a scuffle with a fellow friend of mine. Oh well...*sighs in dissapointment*

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**chuckles when his name is mentioned**

Oh him? Yes, a wiley fella.... He is a friend, I may not always agree with his tactics, but... sometimes such ways can be necessary.

Let us hope he never crosses the line... totally.

**winks and walks away**

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"Before I thought he had simply lost his mind to where he thought he was one of the Sin'Dorei, given his penchant for following around and cooing at our women... I recall him having a bounty on his head not too long ago, and there was something about him having to regrow back his ears because people kept taking them as souvenirs..."

The Ranger muses while looking over a vehicle schematic, then rolls it up and plants it back into a pouch.

"Unfortunately now he is more of a rabid animal than the wolves of the Fjord... One that will be put to sleep."

A calm expression on his face, then a smile to the goblin.

"Unless my Blood finds him first, of course."

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