Get the Desktop App for Battle.net Now
- All your games in 1 place
- Log in once
- Automatic game updates
It's the usual fare for Gilneas; cold, clammy day filled with light drizzles of rain, dark grey clouds and howling winds. A few ravens peck at a Worgen's corpse, what little remains. The cobblestone bridge leading into Gilneas City is cracked and broken, trampled by hundreds of feet and heavy wheels. This usual din of silent mourning for a lost nation is suddenly broken by the roaring sound of an engine, which seems to grow louder.
One of the feasting ravens looks up, seeing the glow of headlights quickly coming at it. It caws in fear and rushes up into the air, as Sals' mechano-hog races past. He honks the horn, a sound of strange percussions, as he yells out, "Stupid bird! Outta tha' way!"
He drives into the ruins of Gilneas City, eventually coming to a stop in front of a tailor's shop. The broken glass windows once held a display of mannequins and an assortment of clothing, but most had been looted a long time ago. Dismounting, Sals' clicks a button, and the mechano-hog reverts to a small box the size of a plum. He stuffs it away into one of his endless pockets, and walks towards the entrance of the shop.
After several attempts to open the door, and failing miserably, he stands back and looks at the entrance, quirking an eyebrow. Eventually, he pulls out a strange device, which appears like a rubber ducky. He squeezes it a few times, making the tell tale sound, and then whips it forward. It bounces on the door, exploding into a brilliant fireball, engulfing wood and glass alike. After a few moments, the fire subsides, and he grunts, straightening his tie. Sals looks around, then walks inside.
Once inside, he looks around, assessing the situation. Once a shop and workplace, now littered with debris and rubble, and his burning entrance didn't help matters. But moving past it all, he finds what he was looking for; An entrance to a basement, hidden behind what had once been a large shelf, but now was open. As he walks through to the stone stairwell leading down, he takes note of the strange eldritch runes marking the entranceway's frame.
Below, a terrible smell of rot and brimstone permeates the air. Sniffing in disgust, Sals takes a cigar out from his pocket, one of his best, and snaps his fingers. It immediately lights up, and he begins to puff it heavily, looking around at the altar, the melted candles, the demonic effigies, and the rows upon rows of bookshelves and cabinets. A wide grin spreads across his face.
Edited by Sals on 8/15/2012 11:05 AM PDT
Moving to one of the shelves, he glances around and eventually settles on one of the books, pulling it out. Flipping through the pages, he grunts again, tosses it behind him, and pulls out another. Then another. And another. Soon a large pile of books has formed, and Sals moves over to one of the cabinets. Opening it up, he sees only torture implements and ritual tools. Sighing, he closes it and looks around.
It wasn't the smell that disturbed him, nor the implications of the room he was in. It was the moving shadow that rose in front of him, that caused him pause. Now Sals wasn't one for fear, didn't think it professional, but this being certainly brought him very close to fleeing. Every fiber of his being wanted to run, to scream and beg, to cower before this shadow. Instead, he quirked an eyebrow, took a long pull on his cigar, and said, "Hi, name's Salsbury. Just Salsbury. Trade Baron. Profiteer. Inventor. Kodo-whisperer. An' now, yur boss." The hideous laughter that echoed through the room cut Sals off from further speaking.
The voice that followed was low, guttural and blood curdling. "Bosssss? I don't think so, puny goblin. Do you realise the horror you walked into?" Sals took another long pull on the cigar, it was almost running out, "Nah, don' interrupt me. Now, as I's was sayin', I'm yur BOSS. Call me Sals." He pulled out a long brass tube as he spoke, and began to open it up, "Now, wha' I's got here is a contract fer yur employmen'. Jus' glance over it an' sign on tha' dott'd line." He pulled out the rolled up contract and offered it to the shadowy creature.
"Why would I bother to do that? I could just consume you now and be done with it." It replied, in slight amusement. "Youse could, true. But then youse would remain trapp'd down here, I's saw those runes at the door upstairs. This is a prison, ain' it? Ya, it is. I's been studyin' this sorta thing fer awhile now. I's bet youse bor'd, an' angry. Yur cult is dead, yur name forgotten. I's come offerin' a chance fer escape."
The demon remained silent for a few moments, before taking the contract and appearing to read it over. "So this has all the details worked out, does it?" It asked in irritation. "Ya, youse won' be upset by it. So, in return fer yur release, I's git ta request knowledge from youse when I's need it, an' access ta yur demon minions. Rank an' file. I's know youse got some voidwalkers an' succubi sittin' aroun' somewher'. They's alsa work fer me. Capiche?" Sals grinned wickedly, as he stared at the shadow demon. "Very well, I will sign this. But know this, Salsbury, I WILL have your soul when this is done." The demon formed a strange light upon the dotted light, leaving a series of runes in it's wake. Sals took the contract back and stuff it into the brass tube, "Ya, ya. I's sold it years ago for a Stagwich. Best Stagwich I's ever had. A little dry though. So then, yur escape. I's already know how ta use a certain spell. If youse will sit tight fer a momen'....."
Sals ran upstairs, and returned shortly with a Top Hat. "Now then, I'll bind youse ta this Hat, an' youse should be able ta pass right through tha' door, on top o' me head." He offers the hat to the demon. "Now then, let's see....tha' words....tha' words....Ah! I's got it. Manto...Alikto.....Zepra....Cobizz....er.....Valtri....Mundo....MUNDO...MUNDO!"
A powerful force rips into the chamber, and the pages of the tossed books flip about, tearing themselves free and flying around the room. The shadow before Sals swirls and becomes like a noxious gas, flowing into the top hat. Minutes feel like hours, as the spell eventually finishes, and the dust settles. The once moth eaten hat, now repaired to perfect form, rested easily in Sals' hands. Grinning, he takes it and places it on his head, a perfect fit. Looking around, he collects several musty tomes, and places them into his impossible pockets of his suit. A voice whispers to him in the dark.
"Salsbury, collect the Grimoire on the altar. It will teach you all you need to know in the ways of destructions and curses, shadows and flame. Use it with the usual recklessness you so relish....." Sals grins wickedly, and takes the tome, it's moldy pages encased by black leathery bindings and strange glyphs on it's cover. He holds it reverently for a moment, before carelessly shoving it away.
As he moves back towards the stairs, he notices a large staff, made from twisted rose stalks, and a human-like skull covered in blood red roses. It's petals shift and fall, as new ones grow immediately in it's place, to fall again. Intrigued, he snatches the staff and ackwardly shoves it into a pocket, all the way in. Satisfied, he leaves.
Demons were morons, never reading the fine print.
In the Northen Barrens a young Troll who had recently taken up the Druidic arts was walking to the Goblin town of Ratchet when he came across a grisly sight. On the ground away from the road two dead raptors laid rotting in the harsh sun, Kal'tok was curious and decided to investigate, when he reached the corpses he saw that they had arrows in then and it appeared that they were slain just for sport.
Kal'tok scanned the area and found the culprit; a Human who had just fired an arrow into a raptor's leg. Kal'tok then reached for his great-axe but when he felt his druid staff on his back instead of his axe he remembered that he was now a Druid so he charged at the Human while simultaneously shifting into the form of a cat.
The Human had taken the raptor to the ground with two extra shots and was slowly getting ready to send the final arrow into the beast's heart, savoring the hunt. Just as the Human was about to fire he heard a strange noise behind him and took a look only to get pounced by a strange tusked cat who clawed at the Human's chest while tearing out his throat with it's teeth.
When the deed was done the cat turned back into a Troll and Kal'tok turned his attention to the wounded raptor, after rushing to the raptor he knelt by her and pulled the arrows out before using his new abilities to heal the wounds made by the cruel hunter. He then helped the raptor up and went on his way.
After walking for about a minute he looked back and realised the Raptor had followed him so he gestured for her to come to his side and so she did without hesitation. Kal'tok smiled and said "I could use a companion, I think I shall name you Chakari." The raptor happily nodded with approval, causing Kal'tok to chuckle and reply "I'm glad you like the name." Then without another word the pair walked forward to Ratchet where Kal'tok would purchase the materials required to make a raptor saddle.
Selane laid back the cold, flat stone she made her bed for the night; her eyes closed as she listened to the sounds of the fire next to her and the mountains around her. The cold never really bothered her much, just being a minor inconvenience to have to make a campfire. Her armor lay on the right side of her rock, covered in the previous days bandage wrappings she used as an undershirt. Her weapons on her left, her greatsword sticking out the most in terms of looks.
Birds chirped in the distance as they made their final calls for the night, soon after resting in their nests. Selane reached back and untied her ponytail, letting her white hair lay spread out across the head of the rock. She slowly let thoughts drift throughout her head, pulling up memories of her past and hopes for the future. A future that, if she stayed on the path she was leading now, would never come to fruition.
She frowned as a groan of pain interrupted her thoughts. She reached for a small knife on her left, turning her head to look at a Vrykul warrior desperately crawling toward her, weapon in tow. His face covered in blood from a crack on the side of his skull. Selane yanked the knife from the dirt, taking a moment to aim at the impeded warrior before throwing it. The Vrykul's head was thrown back as the knife struck home in-between his eyes, stopping the groans of pain as his body gave up, his head falling to the floor.
Selane put her arms behind her head once more, sighing a bit of relief. Her frown stayed in her face as she slowly drifted back to her thoughts once again, "Stupid Vrykul. Going to take more than a group to take me." She sighed to herself once more, readjusting how she lay as she pulled up the blanket at her feet. "I need a vacation."
Sleep slowly took over Selane as she continued to relax, leaving the fire to tend to itself. Images of her past and the harshness of growing up on her own presented themselves openly, forcing her to relive her life in her comatose state. What seemed like hours to her passed before Selane was pulled from her sleep at the sound of commotion by her. She quickly awoke, grabbing the shortsword planted into the ground next to its larger companion.
She swung forward, holding the sword to the neck of a seated elf. His skin as red as a Blood Elf's, hair as black as night. He was clad in plate armor with a holy symbol hanging from his neck. He glanced over to the sword and slowly pushed it away from his neck; Selane didn't protest, putting the sword down after recognizing her old companion.
"Venit, you're an idiot, you know that?" She stuck the sword back into the ground as she spoke, sitting upright on the rock.
The paladin shrugged, fiddling with a stick in the fire with a sword of his own. "Eh, maybe. I tend not to really think about these kinds of things. Gotta just take a leap of faith."
Selane moved her hands up to her face, rubbing at it gently. "Why are you here?"
The paladin stood, sheathing his sword as he pulled a shield from his back. The moonlight and fire reflected off of the shining surface of the shield. "Just wanted to give you this. Been following you for a couple days now. Kinda easy to track you with the trail of bodies you leave behind." He motioned to the several, bloodied bodies of Vrykul spread out around the small makeshift encampment.
Selane reached up and took the shield, placing it next to the rest of her armory. "Thanks for that, and stealth isn't necessarily the best course of action. You should realize this most of all."
Venit waved his hand in dismissal, looking up at the night sky as he breathed in deeply. "Mind if I stick around here tonight?"
Selane shook her head, "Go ahead, but don't wake me up again, alright?" She laid back down on the rock, placing her hands over her chest after pulling the blanket up to cover her once again.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
Selane closed her eyes, listening to the paladin taking his armor off and placing it around him in a circle; his usual ritual. Sleep slowly started to take her once again as she listened to him lay down on his own, playing with the fire just a bit more before stopping. Dreams once again took over her mind as she drifted off.
Edited by Selane on 8/17/2012 5:25 AM PDT
Actually Vemlin, that brings up a good point I've been saying ingame. With the influx of pandarens, we at Blackmarket welcome you into our organization. Especially those Pandarens with less then scrutable morals.
If anyone is looking to roll a pandaren yakuza or triad themed character, we're hiring! I loved to have some rp in the guild around that.
Threats of violence. We take these seriously and will alert the proper authorities.
Posts containing personal information about other players. This includes physical addresses, e-mail addresses, phone numbers, and inappropriate photos and/or videos.
Harassing or discriminatory language. This will not be tolerated.