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The waterfall had not been worked on in several days. Neither hide nor hair had been seen from Squigvicious in the entire time. His workshop had not been touched in that time either. Things were...slightly more upbeat around the guild hall.

The scrawny orc huffed and puffed up the hill, a bundle in his arms. Down at the bottom of the hill, a cart stuffed with packages and parcels waited. Two very burly orcs stood guard over the mail cart. He knocked on the door. Lucerra ran to the door and opened it.

“I have a package here for...” he looked down at the writing... “Officer Rincewindy.”


“Look Missy, I don’t have time for questions. Just go get him so I can get back to my route.”

Lucerra disappeared into the hall, shutting the door in the orc’s face. The scrawny orc jumped, nearly dropping the package. “Stupid cow,” he muttered. “I hate this job.” He stood waiting for several moments, then turned to go back to his route. The door opened and Rincewindy stepped out. “Can I help you?”

“You’re Rincewindy?” the orc asked, irritably.

Rince nodded.

“Sign here.” He held out a scroll.

Rince signed.

“Here,” he said, thrusting the package into Rince’s arms. The orc turned on his heel and trotted down the hill, muttering about time and money and how it wasn’t enough.

Rince sighed and took the package inside. He vaguely noticed Lucerra watching him. Taking a small knife from his belt, he sliced the string that held the package together. The tabard slid out of the package landing in his lap. A sealed letter fluttered to the floor. Bony fingers delicately lifted the tabard up. There were criss-crossing burn marks on part of the fabric, barely noticeable and would have been disregarded by many humanoids, other than the forsaken one who held it now. With a practiced hand, he folded the fabric up, the red hammer centered in the middle, and placed it on the table in front of him.

He reached down and picked up the letter. He examined both front and back then slid a long fingernail underneath the seal and unfolded the letter. Lucerra watched him and finally couldn’t stop herself. “Who’s it from? What’s it about?”

Rincewindy looked up from the letter, “Squigvicious. It’s a letter stating his withdrawal from the guild.” He looked down at the letter and and said with the utmost conviction. “He’s been captured.” He folded the letter back up and tucked it away. "I will present this information at the moot."

“Are we going to try and rescue him?” Lucerra asked.

Rince sighed. “That will be for the Tribe to decide.”

“He risked his neck trying to save me, it would be the least we could do.”

Rince nodded, “That, I know. But Stormwind is not an easy place to get into.”

“How do you know he’s there?”

“He referred to it in the letter.”

“What’s it say?”

Rince recited the letter.

“‘Dear Officer Rincewindy of the Ironsong Tribe,

“‘With much regret and sadness, I sincerely withdraw myself from the Ironsong tribe. You all have been most accommodating to me and my needs and would hope that one day we could meet again on better terms. I understand that trust has been a major factor in your willingness to promote me, and taking this into consideration, I will sever the chains that bind us.

“‘I shall return to my previous place of residency and hang around there, most likely. I find the view stimulates the imagination in all the possible ways. Perhaps I shall be able to seek out enlightenment with the elders after a bit.

“‘I shall leave the finishing of the waterfall to Anca, her technical prowess being beyond measure, and will not be retrieving my belongings. So, I leave all my belongings to the highest bidder to support the needs of the tribe.

“‘I wish you all well,

“‘Fixxit Blastcutter,

“‘P.S: Tell Nadi not to cry for me.
“‘P.P.S: Please let Lucinther know that I will not be able to finish that task he assigned to me.’“

((This begins an ingame/totem storyline. Feel free to put in your 2 coppers. Possible 'rescue'/guild run of the stormwind stockades will take place after the moot this Thursday 2/17/11.))
Trozzesh entered the guild hall for the first time since his joining the Ironsong Tribe, his business with the mage Amroghor ultimately concluded. The trappings of the place went unnoticed; every dwelling was the same, creature comforts for a life of ease and happiness. These were not things he valued.

But what he did notice were the worried looks on the faces of several guild members, though he couldn't remember their names. His eyes flicked to the corners of the room, and then the table holding a somewhat worn, long-folded guild tabard. The same one he carried in his pack. The undead one held a scroll with writing on it, while the young tauren listened anxiously.

This is not my concern, Trozzesh said to himself. You do not know them, and there is more important work to be done. But despite the voice of pragmatic vigilance commanding him to carry on with his work, his curiosity and brief pang of concern won over his lips. When he was certain there were no words being exchanged between the two, he spoke.

"Excuse me...guildmates. What has happened?"

((/vote for Stockades run to rescue Squig))

The shadows of my past weigh heavier than the hopes for my future.
So I can be an anchor for you, but only if you know when to let go.
Rince looked from the letter to the troll. "We just received this letter. It states that Squigvicious has left the guild. But, I do not believe that to be true." Rince said, his voice like they crypt, a harsh whisper upon dry air. "There are certain clues that the goblin in this letter for me to believe he has been detained against his will. Also, his tabard has been damaged. My guess is from some kind of electricity."

He sets the letter down and picks up the tabard, showing the troll, "See these marks here? I'd say it was a net of some kind. They were not on his tabard the other day."

Lucerra spoke up, "You're certain that that's not old damage? It is pretty difficult to see."

Rince turned the tabard over and pointed to some stitching. "He had me repair this tear a week ago. Naturally, I inspected the garment for other points of damage."

Rince placed the tabard back on the table. "We'll be needing some maps of the area. I'm not sure how much things have changed since Nefarion's attack on the city. But if the locals get wind of what we're planning, we'll have bigger issues to face."

He started to head to the library, then stopped and turned offering a bony hand, "By the way, I'm Rince."
Trozzesh hesitated for a moment. An extended hand meant getting involved.

He reached his right hand forward, grasping the ghoulish extremity. It was cool and raw, like a bare hilt. Almost enjoyable, if not for the scant layer of dead flesh coating it haphazardly. He shook it, half expecting to feel it come away from the body it hung from, but its grip was firm.

"I am Trozzesh. I do not know Squigvicious well, so I'll trust your judgement in this matter. Perhaps I can find more information from one of the other death knights who pass through Acherus. I will bring my findings to the moot this eve."

Trozzesh turned to go, feeling the lingering of those undead digits upon his skin. He could not remember the last being his hand had grasped in anything other than violence. Looking down, he saw a thin line of lighter colored flesh where Rince's thumb had lain. There was something long buried beneath that scar, but what it was belonged to a past forgotten two lifetimes ago.

His plate boots clanked loudly against the hardwood of the hall floor on his way to the exit, a rhythmic pounding reminiscent of a forced march to battle.

The shadows of my past weigh heavier than the hopes for my future.
So I can be an anchor for you, but only if you know when to let go.
Lucerra waited for the troll to leave. "I want to go," she said quietly.

Rince looked up at her and shook his head. "Your mother would not agree to that."

"Not agree to what?" The large tauren stepped out of the kitchen, a cup of tea in one hand.

"She's got this fool-hardy idea in her head that she owes it to Squigvicious to help get him out of Stormwind's prison." He turned to Lucerra, "Look, we don't know for sure that he's there. For all I know, he could be somewhere else."

Mula took a long sip of her tea, her eyes closed. She sighed. "I'm going to have to agree with Rince, Lucy; it's way too dangerous. We need people who can get in and out without attracting that much attention. Our best option for that is flying."

"I could ride with you, on your rocket."

Mula shook her head. "I will not be going."

"What? Why?"

"Because I have to be at Moonglade regarding something important to me....And you need to stay here."

"This is important to me," Lucerra said. "If it wasn't for him, Lailya, Lucinther, and Zaevian, I'd still be chained to that awful slab, probably pecked clean by the local wildlife by now. I owe it to him."

"And what if you were killed? Then it all would be for nothing. Rince, will you go for Lucerra?"

"I uhhh," Rince looked down at his shoes. "Yeah, sure."

"Great, well that's settled then."

Lucerra opened her mouth to say something, then shut it. She knew she'd not be able to change her mother's made-up mind.
He'd told his story to his rescuers once, and hardly felt like telling it again, but the large tauren with the axe and the mace seemed pretty adamant that he tell it again.

Squigvicious sighed. "All right, all right. I'll talk. You remember Lucinzher, right?"

Mula nodded, arms still crossed across her chest.

"Well, I ztill owed him a favor. I guess he doesn't count zhat day when I zaved his life. And I also ztill owe Zaevian and Aracna a favor, too. Alzhough, zhey were more interested in zeeing my head on a pike razher zhan me doing zomezhing productive for zhem.

"Luc and zee ozher bardz are having troubles wizh a group of cultists called zee uh...bloodfang, bloodfrost...well, blood zomezhing cultists... He azked me to look around and zee what I could find.

"Zo, I went down to Zilverpine forest and zniffed around a bit. I wazn't getting any major cluez when I ran into zhat Zylvannaz chick. Well, you don't zay 'no' to zee leader of zee forzaken, zo I got zwept up zhose goingz on.

"Well, we captured zhis human chick; I zhink her name was Lorna or Laura or..."

Mula just looked at him, arms still crossed.

"And um...well...zee Zylvannaz chick wanted to exchange her for zheir zurrender, or zomezhing like zhat. And um...well, I zhink one of zee worgen recognized me. But zhings were getting hairy wizh Zylvannaz because zome of zee undead guyz ztabbed her in zee back. And it was fortunate zhat I was zhere, becauze I pulled out my Goblin Jumper Cables 2000X (trademark) and brought her back to life...er...deazh...er...undeazh. And zee Valkyre zhat were zhere zhey died, becauze...um...zhey were zo diztraught zhat zhey weren't able to do anyzhing about it. Well...um....

"Anyway, I waz following zee route zhat zee bards took, when I came across zizh goblin in zee road. Zhe was laying down and looked injured, zo I ztopped to zee if I could help her out. Zhat was when zhe zapped me. Knocked me back like a hundred feet. Zhen, zhe trapped me in zhis net zhat was electrified. Zhe zhen took me to zee SI:7 headquarters in Ztormwind.

"Well, zhey made me wait for a while and zhen Ryak zhowed up. Zhey made me write zhat letter to you. I guess zhey didn't want any kind of rescue attempt. I don't know. Zhen zhey zhoved me down in zee prison. Zhey tortured me and zhen zhey would heal me and zhen zhey would torture me zome more. Zee iron maiden waz zee worst. But I toughed it out." Squig makes a show of looking more beef.

Mula just stared at him, arms still crossed.

"Zhen zee tribe rescued me." He looked around, "What?"

"Now, you're going to tell me what really happened."

"Zhat eez what happened!"

Mula sighed. "I don't have time for this. Your story has more holes than Alterac Swiss. The Valkyries just died out of heartbreak?"

"Yeah...or zomezhing like that."

"You got caught off guard by that goblin chick?"

"Zhe was pretty...really pretty."

"They didn't interrogate you?"


"I don't believe it. Your story is harder to swallow than a turtle tongue steak. When you're ready to tell the truth, then I'll be willing to listen." Mula turned and walked out of the hall, muttering something about time and how she'd never get it back.

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