04-01-2010, 06:57 PM
((Note: This is essentially some background information for a small plotline for those who were unable to attend tonight's moot and hear Lailya's announcement and want some info on what's currently in the shout box. Feel free to post reactions to the situation here or approach me ICly or OOCly in-game for more details. This was mostly a spur-of-the-moment thing that grew from a throw-away comment made by Lailya last moot, so the idea isn't wholly developed, and input from others is more than welcome!))
There is, in fact, a greenhouse a good distance behind the guild hall. Most of the tribe's herbalists are more than happy to gather their plants direct from the wild, but the greenhouse allows for the growing of certain plants out of season or more common plants no one has the time go out and search for. Lailya's taken charge of most of the upkeep, and when not out adventuring, in her workroom, or lounging in her favorite chair, the warlock can often be found puttering around the greenhouse, tending the plants and experimenting with new strains of flowers for sale at market.
Normally many of the herbs and flowers that grow inside are clearly visible through the clear glass panes, but the greenhouse's interior is now oddly darkened and a strange, dark mass can be seen faintly twisting within. A faint shimmer covers the outside, a clear sign of active magical wards, and a large sign is tacked to a post next to the door that says:
[center]KEEP OUT!
Unknown Plant Within, Consider Dangerous
Please see Lailya about obtaining samples for research.[/center]
The blood elf in question is sitting cross-legged a few feet away, elbows propped on her knees and chin resting on a closed fist. Her glare could probably peel paint at this point, but instead it's focused on the greenhouse. There are scorch marks covering the gardening gloves resting on the grass beside her, the the floppy sunhat sitting on her has a chunk missing from its brim, and the blade of the shovel laying within reach is oddly bent.
"Any news?" she asks tersely, gaze not wavering from the greenhouse.
Pizpit, clutching a clipboard almost as large as himself, fidgets and looks nervous rather than sneering and sardonic as usual. He flips a page up and glances warily over at his mistress. "No news back from either the Cenarion Circle or the Earthen Ring," the imp says. "Nothing from the Royal Apothecary Society, either, but Captain Bragor Bloodfist wrote a note saying, and I quote, "The next time you send something to the apothecaries, run it by me first.""
"Noted."
The imp hurries back to his clipboard. "Madam Senne is still studying the clipping she took last Friday. The other clipping you took has been delivered to Lady Nadilynn to be sent to Freya. The sproutling we found in the kitchen garden earlier today has been dug up, chopped up, charred as well as could be managed, and tossed over the side of the Maiden's Fancy on its last trip to Booty Bay. Shaathun and I were unable to find any other sprouts in the kitchen garden, but we'll be checking the next few days to be completely sure the infestation hasn't spread beyond the greenhouse."
Lailya grunts, but reaches into the pouch on her belt, takes out a hunk of Alterac Swiss, and tosses it to her imp. Pizpit leaps up to catch it, and vanishes with the cheese and clipboard back to the Nether with a loud "pop!", leaving behind a sulfurous cloud that dissipates quickly.
The warlock settles back down. "Fire doesn't kill it, shadowbolts just tickle it, not even the Infernal could take care of the thing," she mutters to herself. "Digging out the roots is an exercise in futility, and what little we do manage to get rid of grows back frighteningly fast."
She rubs her temples and sighs, but continues with her little monologue. Thinking out loud has always made her feel better, no matter that it makes her seem a little crazy. "Luckily even though the roots are thick, wide-spread, and harder than damned iron, they don't go deep, so Anca's tunnels should be safe and it shouldn't spread into the hall itself. And it isn't poisonous and most importantly, it's not intelligent, otherwise we'd probably be doomed." Lailya sighs again and flops onto her back to stare up at the clouds, her hat falling off with the sudden movement. "Damned if I know what in the Nether it is, though, or even how it got in in the first place.
"Dath'remar's bones, I want my greenhouse back."
There is, in fact, a greenhouse a good distance behind the guild hall. Most of the tribe's herbalists are more than happy to gather their plants direct from the wild, but the greenhouse allows for the growing of certain plants out of season or more common plants no one has the time go out and search for. Lailya's taken charge of most of the upkeep, and when not out adventuring, in her workroom, or lounging in her favorite chair, the warlock can often be found puttering around the greenhouse, tending the plants and experimenting with new strains of flowers for sale at market.
Normally many of the herbs and flowers that grow inside are clearly visible through the clear glass panes, but the greenhouse's interior is now oddly darkened and a strange, dark mass can be seen faintly twisting within. A faint shimmer covers the outside, a clear sign of active magical wards, and a large sign is tacked to a post next to the door that says:
[center]KEEP OUT!
Unknown Plant Within, Consider Dangerous
Please see Lailya about obtaining samples for research.[/center]
The blood elf in question is sitting cross-legged a few feet away, elbows propped on her knees and chin resting on a closed fist. Her glare could probably peel paint at this point, but instead it's focused on the greenhouse. There are scorch marks covering the gardening gloves resting on the grass beside her, the the floppy sunhat sitting on her has a chunk missing from its brim, and the blade of the shovel laying within reach is oddly bent.
"Any news?" she asks tersely, gaze not wavering from the greenhouse.
Pizpit, clutching a clipboard almost as large as himself, fidgets and looks nervous rather than sneering and sardonic as usual. He flips a page up and glances warily over at his mistress. "No news back from either the Cenarion Circle or the Earthen Ring," the imp says. "Nothing from the Royal Apothecary Society, either, but Captain Bragor Bloodfist wrote a note saying, and I quote, "The next time you send something to the apothecaries, run it by me first.""
"Noted."
The imp hurries back to his clipboard. "Madam Senne is still studying the clipping she took last Friday. The other clipping you took has been delivered to Lady Nadilynn to be sent to Freya. The sproutling we found in the kitchen garden earlier today has been dug up, chopped up, charred as well as could be managed, and tossed over the side of the Maiden's Fancy on its last trip to Booty Bay. Shaathun and I were unable to find any other sprouts in the kitchen garden, but we'll be checking the next few days to be completely sure the infestation hasn't spread beyond the greenhouse."
Lailya grunts, but reaches into the pouch on her belt, takes out a hunk of Alterac Swiss, and tosses it to her imp. Pizpit leaps up to catch it, and vanishes with the cheese and clipboard back to the Nether with a loud "pop!", leaving behind a sulfurous cloud that dissipates quickly.
The warlock settles back down. "Fire doesn't kill it, shadowbolts just tickle it, not even the Infernal could take care of the thing," she mutters to herself. "Digging out the roots is an exercise in futility, and what little we do manage to get rid of grows back frighteningly fast."
She rubs her temples and sighs, but continues with her little monologue. Thinking out loud has always made her feel better, no matter that it makes her seem a little crazy. "Luckily even though the roots are thick, wide-spread, and harder than damned iron, they don't go deep, so Anca's tunnels should be safe and it shouldn't spread into the hall itself. And it isn't poisonous and most importantly, it's not intelligent, otherwise we'd probably be doomed." Lailya sighs again and flops onto her back to stare up at the clouds, her hat falling off with the sudden movement. "Damned if I know what in the Nether it is, though, or even how it got in in the first place.
"Dath'remar's bones, I want my greenhouse back."