Captain Olvyn Teere and The Moonlit

[Cayreth]

"This is the last time", muttered Olvyn.

An official-looking goblin was marching up the ramp, followed by two Booty Bay bruisers. Olvyn pulled out a pipe and began packing tobacco.

"Captain Olvyn Teere?", inquired the greenskin.
"Aye. Tis' me. What can I do for ya?", replied Olvyn thinking that this is the last time he's allowing the shore leave before they finish all the financial transactions.
"Captain Teere, I'm afraid you still owe us one hundred gold coins."
"I already paid the mooring fee", Olvyn was staring at his pipe, clearly not pleased with the situation.
"This is a new transportation tax. All weapon cargo is subject to it", creaked the goblin.

Olvyn was losing his patience. More than anything in Azeroth, he wanted to kick the intruder off his ship. He eyed the bruisers who were leaning on the main mast, lazily playing with their maces.

"These damn goblins getting greedier every year", thought Olvyn and lit his pipe. He drew in the tobacco smoke and let out a perfectly shaped ring. "I don't have one hundred gold coins", he said.

He was telling the truth. The last gold he split up between his first mate, whom he sent off to buy supplies, and his crew who have now overtaken the Booty Bay tavern and were having a good time.

"Your ship will be impounded if you don't pay the tax", said the goblin.
"You little greenskin inbred! Where am I suppose to get the gold? Until I drop off the cargo and get paid, I don't have any money with me", muttered Olvyn through his teeth.

The Moonlit was transporting swords and guns. She was one of the finest ships in her class and featured what any pirate would kill to have -- a secret cargo hold. Just days earlier, Captain Olvyn Teere and his crew were looting the naga temples in Azshara. The vain citizens of Stormwind would swallow up any trinket you threw their way and would easily cough up a healthy sum of gold coins in return. Teere knew that, but he also knew that approaching Booty Bay with a seemingly empty cargo bay would draw unnecessary suspicion.

He's done it before. Teere would often pick up low-paying transporting jobs just to cover up the true cargo he was carrying. This time they ended up hauling weapons from Theramore to Menethil. Granted, Booty Bay may have been seen as "a little out of the way" but luckily the greenskins never inquired about a ship's origin or destination. All they cared about was milking it for all the gold they could while it was moored in their harbor.

"I must speak with my crew", said Olvyn and drew in another breath of tobacco smoke.
"Fine. We will be waiting here, in case you get any funny ideas about sailing away", replied the goblin.

Teree scoffed in disgust and started walking off onto the dock, staring at the sunset. This was supposed to be a simple job. All they had to do was fill up the rum barrels with the naga loot, take a horse cart to Stormwind, dump the loot, get paid, get back to the ship, and sail up the coast to Menethil to pick up the few gold coins for their transporting job. But no, the damn goblins had to start taxing weapon cargo. Booty Bay was quickly becoming Olvyn's least favorite port.

Olvyn was now approaching the tavern. Before he had a chance to walk inside, an orc came flying out of the tavern. Teere followed the orc with his gaze as the latter hit the dock and slid for a good twenty feet before coming to a stop and grunting in pain. Teere peered into the tavern and saw the following. Amidst scattered playing cards, spilled ale and a broken table, two of his crew members were holding a blood elf while a third one was carefully applying his fists to the elf's face. Nearby, a couple more of his crew members were going through the backpack of another blood elf, who now silently laid on the floor.

Great. Olvyn's day just turned from bad to worse. He felt himself being shoved off to the side as the Booty Bay bruisers rushed past him into the tavern. Teere knew what would happen. His crew would be seized for starting a brawl in a neutral port and thrown in jail.

With the first light of the rising moon, Captain Olvyn Teere found himself without a ship and without a crew.
"I need to get out of here", he thought.

Teere quickly scribbled a note for his first mate, snuck back onto The Moonlit and hid the note in one place that only the two of them knew about. He gave one final glare to the three goblins who were still occupying the upper deck and went back onto the dock.

Briskly walking along the dock, something caught Teere's attention. A lone goblin was unloading barrels of rum out of a small row boat.

"This is exactly what I need. I can row to that little dock in Westfall and then ....", Teere didn't finish his thought.

Moments later, the goblin was silently laying on the dock, his pockets empty and his boat floating away. If one looked closely, they could spot a dark figure next to the only barrel of rum still in the boat.

[Cayreth]

Captain Olvyn Teere puffed on his pipe as he collected his thoughts. His ship was impounded by the Booty Bay goblins. His crew was in jail. His first mate left the only hope, assuming of course she finds the note.

Teere muttered a few curse words directed at the greenskins, eyed the barrel of rum and threw a rope to the man on the Westfall dock.
"Ahoy there! You know where I may find a ride to Stormwind?", yelled Teere.
The man on the dock silently pointed towards the tower on the horizon, tied off the boat to the dock and leaned down to help Olvyn's unload the barrel of rum.

After managing the barrel, Teere slipped a few silver coins into the man's hand and sent him off to get a horse cart. He emptied his pipe of the burnt tobacco and began cleaning it. It was then that he realized that he was being watched. Olvyn looked up and began staring intently at the shadow near the lighthouse. The shadow melted and changed form and before Teere knew, a night elf was standing right in front of him.

"Ar....", grunted Teere trying to appear unimpressed. "What do ye want?"
"You don't want to go to Stormwind", uttered the elf.
"What makes you think I'm headed to Stormwind?"

The night elf chuckled.
"You don't want to go to Stormwind", he repeated.

Teere was staring at his now-clean pipe, trying to understand why he, one of the most feared pirate captains, was standing on a tiny dock in god-forgotten Westfall, without a ship and a crew, talking to a night elf.

Olvyn looked up and put away his pipe. "Alright. Humor me, night elf. Why don't I want to go to Stormwind?".
"Let's just say that those weapons in your cargo hold are not going to Menethil for the reasons you think they are headed there for", replied the night elf.
"My ship has been impounded. Those weapons are not going anywhere, friend", retorted Teere.
"Death awaits you in Stormwind. There has been put out an order for your arrest."

Olvyn hesitated. Few, very few, besides his crew knew who he was. It was his name that spoke fear into the heart of sailors, not his face. He made sure that it stayed that way.

"I appreciate your concern, mate, but I think I'll be alright."
"They have a drawing of you. How do you think I found you?"

Olvyn fell silent, his mind deep in thoughts: "The elf asks a pretty damn good question. But the bigger one is how in the bloody Outland do they know what I look like?"
"You don't want to go to Stormwind", the phrase seemed to be taking on a magical sounding.

Olvyn slowly shook his head. A horse cart approaching could be heard in the distance.

"Head East. You'll come upon a group of adventurers. Give them the barrel and they will take you in." The night elf dissolved in the shadow just as mystically as he appeared.

Thinking "What is this, a bloody quest?", Teere caught himself getting enraged. "You'll come upon a group of adventurers. Give them the barrel..", Olvyn quietly mimicked the elf with a sarcastic scoff. "Who does he think he is to boss me around?". Teere's mind raced.

He motioned to the man on top of the cart. Moments later, he was sitting on the cart, one hand on the barrel of rum, the other on his chin.

"Where are we headed", the man interrupted his thoughts.
"East", Ovlyn sighed.

[Cayreth]

Lizzie Diggsby, known to the crew of The Moonlit as "Diggs," signed the Bill of Intent which itemized all the goods she was purchasing to restock The Moonlit. The Ship Chandler, a rather old-looking Tauren with one broken horn, grunted with approval.

"You want us to deliver that alongside?" asked the Chandler.

"Aye," replied Diggs, "Dawn, if possible. Not sure we'll have hands aboard to help with the loading before then. At least, not sober ones," she added. The First Mate of The Moonlit rubbed the top of her head, absently, causing her close-cropped brush of auburn hair to stand up in wild spikes.

"Which berth?" replied the Tauren, automatically.

It was almost a trick question. Booty Bay was a small port for all its busy traffic. There were only three possible moorings for a ship of The Moonlit's tonnage.

"South harbor," said Diggs.

As they spoke, a thin, pinch-faced goblin pushed past Diggs, handing the Chandler a ratty-looking sheaf of papers, and then pushed his way out again.

The Chandler looked over the documents, squinting.

"Which berth did you say you're in?"

"South harbor," answered Diggs, sidling closer, attempting to read the documents upside down.

The old Tauren shook her head, clucking.

"Looks like you're not going anywhere. May want to rethink those supplies for a while."

Diggs leaned over the counter, as the Tauren showed her the Writ of Seizure. Diggs lips worked silently as she read through the tangle of legalese. Her brows knitted into deeper furrows of anger when she finally puzzled it out. Long and short, the goblins had impounded The Moonlit.

"Aw, plug me, runnin'!" she swore, hand slapping the counter. The Tauren shrugged.

"Sorry, Pinkie," replied the Chandler. "Looks like the Gobbos got theyself a 'special tax' this week. Dunno who you din't make friends with, but it looks like theys not gonna bother kissin' you, now."

Diggs cut loose with an even more colorful stream of invectives. Cap'n was always so careful -- they flew different colors when they raided up north, made sure to change to the ones registerd to The Moonlit only when they were out to deep sea. No, he ran a tight ship, and between Diggs and himself, they ran even tighter books. The likelihood of anyone recognizing that they were smuggling Azsharan artifacts was so small as to be impossible. Something was up. Diggs ducked out of the Shipping Chandler's office, pulling on her cap and drawing it low over her eyes. Within moments, she assumed the slow, careful gait of a drunk. She staggered and wove her way down to the docks, passing several disinterested Bruisers. When she got alongside The Moonlit, she stood swaying for a minute or two before turning and weaving away into the darkness again. In those few minutes, she had managed to see that none of the other crew members were abovedecks, and that at least two Bruisers were stationed on the helm, playing cards. She ducked behind the building which served as a bank and auction house, and stripped down to thin, vaguely unflattering undergarments. She tucked the coin purse containing the gold meant for supplies securely within the bands of the bandage she wore around her chest in an effort to flatten herself into a passable boy. It worked fairly well under enough grime and loose clothing. Now, of course, it just made her look like a wiry, scruffy slip of a woman, completely unblessed by nature with any attributes that could be called 'alluring.' She bundled her clothes and boots together, tucking them behind a barrel. She strapped sheaths containing rather wicked looking daggers to the outside of each thigh before lowering herself into the shallows behind the bank. Diggs bit back a curse at the chill of the water, which was much cooler under the constant breezes from the west, and without the warmth of the sun. She swam silently around the pilings of the docks, careful to avoid the circles of light created by the torches lining the walkways throughout the town.

[Cayreth]

She reached the front of The Moonlit where the anchor chain dropped off into the depths of the Bay. Straining to hear if her movements in the water were detected, Diggs carefully shimmied up the chain until she reached the edge of the ship. Still no movement on the deck besides the cackle of the two goblins onboard, playing cards. She gripped the gunwale, quietly lifting and curling her body over the edge onto the deck. She slipped from one group of shadows to the next, matching her gait to the natural creak of the ship as it rolled gently in the harbor. Another gale of nasal laughter from the Bruisers. Diggs ducked into the captain's cabin, feeling her way through the darkness. She found his berth, which was of course was far more comfortable than any of the other crew's racks. It was standalone, four posts anchoring it to the deck. She felt along one of the posts until she located the compartment drawer hidden just underneath the frame. Diggs popped it open and dug questing fingers inside. Sure enough, Cap'n had left her a note. She plucked it out of its hiding spot. She would have to try to read it before she went back into the water. She made her way back out of the cabin and managed to angle herself to get enough light to read the hasty and cramped script on the small scrap of paper.

A pig whistles, just before it flies. Diggs snorted. Not the best code, but a reader unfamiliar with The Moonlit's regular routes wouldn't realize that it meant The Pig and Whistle in Stormwind. Not her favorite place, but it beat the hell out of the gallows at Northwatch. Now the trick was to find the rest of the crew and spring them. They could make their way overland if they had to until....

A gun cocked behind her. Diggs froze.

"Well-well-well," drawled a gravelly voice. "Seems we got us a stowaway."

Slowly, Diggs turned around, showing empty hands. The scrap of paper floating overboard. Both the Bruisers had guns trained on her, now. The second Bruiser scoffed. "Not much of a prize, that's fer sure. All scars an' bones. Couldn't sell her even if I threw in a horse for free." Great. She'd heard of people disappearing from some of the neutral goblin towns, and it was whispered there were a few slavery rings that probably fed some of the more unsavory cults with sacrifices and fodder for similarly unpleasant practices. The fact that she wasn't viewed as a suitable candidate for a buyer did nothing to reassure her. It meant she was expendable.

"Uh... First Mate of the The Moonlit, here," Diggs croaked, mouth gone suddenly dry. "Pretty sure you just want to run me in to jail. Right?" Her tone was that of a suggestion... hopeful, even.

The first goblin assumed an exaggerated look of surprise, "You? First mate? Of this ship?!" he squeaked.

Diggs tensed, "Um... yeah?"

The goblin laughed, a raw, ugly sound.

"Not anymore, princess!"

Diggs was moving even before the guns belched fire at her. She pitched herself over the edge of the ship. She hit the water badly, knocking out what little wind she had in her, but she dove deeper anyway, as shots sizzled into the water around her. She swam out to open sea, lungs burning, oxygen-deprived muscles screaming and running on adrenaline alone. Finally, she kicked her way to the surface and gulped air. Well, there was no going back to Booty Bay tonight.

"Well, plug me, runnin'," she muttered. It was at least five miles across from the Bay to the northern islands, and then another mile up the coast to Westfall. And that was if she swam straight across. Her other options were a trek through the jungles, on foot, alone and nearly naked, or there was a camp of Bloodsails just north of Booty Bay. Swimming, walking, or relying on the hospitality of the Bloodsails -- what a delightful array of choices.

She started listing every possible insult she could remember upon the Goblins and Booty Bay as she started swimming further out to sea.

Then, as the watery miles passed with agonizing slowness, she started making some up.

[Cayreth]

Captain Teere was vaguely aware of the texture under the fingers of his right hand. Not letting go of his chin, he hasn't spoken a word to the cart driver even though the latter had made several attempts at striking a conversation.

His mind would not let go of the his earlier account with the night elf, replaying the conversation over and over. Olvyn was quite certain that the night elf was mistaken. He himself watched the shipment of weapons loaded into his cargo bay and there was nothing special about them. Those stationed in Theramore would often ship their weapons to Ironforge for repairs and upgrade. What little could be done in the fort itself was given to the resident blacksmiths, but anything more complicated than a small chip in the blade or a jammed gun generally required the dwarven expertise.

The broken weapons presented no value whatsoever. No, whoever wanted him dead was after the naga artifacts.

The train of thought was interrupted by excited voices. Almost devoid of surprise, Olvyn was staring at a group of adventurers who had just finished crossing the bridge that lead from Stranglethorn Vale to Duskwood. The group was eagerly discussing something about rum. Teere tapped the driver on the shoulder and asked him to halt. The band of adventurers fell silent as their curious eyes turned at Olvyn.

The staring match ensued. After a minute of silence, Olvyn turned his gaze at a warrior and uttered, "Ye be in charge here?"

The warrior nodded. "I am Kotaiso Takahashi, commander of The Indelibles. How may I help you?"

Indelibles, huh? The name was not unfamiliar to Olvyn. It was during those long voyages when they had to travel between the continents that his crew sometimes shared the stories about the deeds of the Indelibles.

Teere hesitated. Perhaps it was the late hour, or the fact that he was a captain without a ship that made him decide that bringing up the night elf may cause him to be the laughing stock of this group.

"I.... have something for you", Teere slapped the barrel of rum with his left hand and immediately wished that he would have rather mentioned the night elf than this cursed barrel which was becoming more and more of a nuisance.

Fully expecting his words to be taken as a joke, Olvyn moved his gaze from one adventurer to another until a gnome caught his eyes. Barely coming up to the waist of the warrior, the little man was staring at the barrel as if he was about ready to swallow it. A tiny demonic imp was excitedly jumping around the gnome.

"Rum? Hmm... that could certainly solve our shortage problem. I myself don't drink but others are likely to be grateful for it.", said Kotaiso in a calm voice.

"Aye. Tis some of the best rum in all of Azeroth. Compliments of *cough* the Booty Bay goblins", replied Olvyn.

"What do you want in return?", the warrior was proving to be the kind of person that went directly to the point.

Once again, the thought of the night elf was surfacing in Olvyn's mind, only to be promptly pushed back to the realm of subconsciousness from which it sprung out.

"Well... you see. I may be needing some help in getting a crew and a ship". Olvyn decided not to mention the fact that it was his crew and his ship he was after.

The warrior paused. "So... you're giving us this barrel in exchange for us helping you find a ship and a few hands to run it?"

A subtle smirk crossed Olvyn's lips. "Aye."

"What is your name?"

"You may call me Captain Terre."

"Welcome to the Indelibles, Captain Teere."

[Cayreth]

"You don't want to go to Stormwind."

The words echoed and Teere found himself awake. He didn't feel rested in the slightest. Olvyn's mind spent the entire night battling a nonsensical twist of naga and goblins, calling out for help to a night elf who simply sat nearby and watched as Teere was slowly getting overwhelmed.

Teere spent several moments thinking about the nightmare then sat up and yawned. How long has he been out for? Olvyn looked up at the sky. The sun was barely above the horizon but his new friends were already awake and busy. Commander Kotaiso was gearing up for a battle, while trying to scold a gnome who was running around in nothing but a diving helmet and a cape, chasing what appeared to be a small yeti. Nearby, two Draenei spell-casters were having a lively, animated discussion in their own language. Off in the distance, a night elf was cooking something seemly very tasty over a campfire. A bear kept trying to stick its muzzle into the cooking pot, only to find himself getting repeatedly reprimanded and pushed off by the night elf. The only adventurer who seemed to still be asleep was the same gnome who had been trying to swallow the barrel of rum with his eyes the night before.

Olvyn focused his gaze on the lake in front of him. He chose the shore last night after Kotaiso had told him: "Feel free to sleep anywhere, except Sylaurn's branch. He'll get mad".

A Draenei was fishing in the lake and smiled at Teere as their eyes met.

"Good morning. Care for some breakfast? Xelas can cook you something.", said the Draenei, masterfully pulling out another fish out of the lake.

Olvyn took another glance at the campfire. The bear finally gave up on the cooking pot after the night elf has set a cup with some of the left-over rum in front of the animal.

"I'm not very hungry right now. Thanks, mate." Teere yawned again.
"Not at all", smiled the Draenei.

Now what? Teere was staring at the lake again. The problem was that he needed to go to Stormwind. Diggs will most certainly try to make it to The Pig and Whistle and if there is an order out for her arrest also.... Teere waved the thought off. Diggs was better than that. His first mate had more street smarts than the rest of the crew combined, himself included. The Stormwind guards would not know they were looking for her even if she was playing cards with them.

Teere silently sighed. If only he could somehow sneak into the city and contact Stephen Ryback.

Stephen was a former chef of The Moonlit. He had met his true love in Stormwind and given up his passion for the seas to marry her. Although, he was now employed as a cooking trainer by The Pig and Whistle, Ryback's true loyalty was still with Captain Teere. Ryback provided a perfect asset for smuggling goods into Stormwind. Teere's crew would deliver their loot stashed in the barrels of rum, which Stephen would "buy" from them and store in the basement of The Pig and Whistle for further distribution on the black market. Besides being responsible for storing and selling the loot, Stephen was the person to go to when a crewmate of The Moonlit needed a place to lay low or secretly get together with the others. Now was one of those times but the prospect of getting to The Pig and Whistle without being stopped by the guards looked quite grim.

A series of greetings interrupted Teere's thoughts. He turned around and looked at the person who has just walked in through the gate.....

[Cayreth]

Velice sat alone, inside of a old, dilapidated barn in the middle of West fall. Her fingers casually drew pictures in the sand as her other hand held a thick loaf of bread. Glad to finally have a chance to sit down, the girl enjoyed the quiet atmosphere of the barn. She smiled to herself before biting off a second piece of bread. Life was good; She was in a barn, safe from harm, eating bread, and playing in the dirt. The sunshine fell through the various cracks and nail holes, creating shadows on the mages face, twisting her human form into something of a magical sort; her ivory face illuminated while the rest of her body hid in the shadows.

The rain above came by surprise to the poor mage. First one drop of water, directly in the center of the girls head, and then a second, which rolled down the side of her tiny nose. "Wha?" She questioned to herself before looking up. The sunshine in which she bathed in was gone, and instead, trickles of water came rolling down the insides of the barn. Her happiness melted as quickly as she realized what was happening in the outside world. Rain.

Velice ran quickly through the tall grass, her mana shield threatening to give way at any moment. She hated, Loathed, the rain. Hated the feel of wetness on her skin, hated the sound it made, hated the memories. A large clap of thunder sent her running faster, until at last she reached her shelter, huffing and bent over, gasping for air.

"Hey thar, Velice!"
"Good morning, Miss Velice."
"How are you?"
"Greetings! *Boom* .....oops."

She was met by several of her closet friends as she took down her mana shield. Pointing to the sky, she muttered "Rain. West fall. Bad." and began to look around for a safe place to hide.
It was then, that she saw him. A human, sitting by the shore, looking right back at her. Her eye contact wavered with him for a moment before she went back to conversing with her friends.
"What is he doing here?" she asked in a angry, whispered tone, giving a small nod in the direction of Captain Olvyn Teere.
"He's new. Brought us some rum...Needs some help, ya know, the usual adventure thing." Replied Moyira dryly before turning back to her latest experiment.
Velice groaned to herself. "He is supposed to be under arrest!"
Moyira frowned. "For what cause?"
"I..er....Well, I'm not sure. But! I did see his picture on a wanted sign in Stormwind. Does Sylaurn know about this? I do not want to be sharing living quarters with a criminal! What if he tries to murder us all in our sleep? Or if he steals all of our loot and then runs off? Besides, look at him! He looks like a pirate!..... Do you think he's a pirate? That is not out of pirate behavior- pirates do steal things! In fact, I believe that is their job! I do not trust that man...not a single bit. " She crossed her arms with a small huff before casting a second glance at the Captain.
Poor thing; he did look a little lost...

Turning her mind away from him for now, she began to look around for something to hide under; it would not be long until the rain in West fall traveled to the Indelible camp site. Figuring that Sylaurns shady tree would be her best bet, she hurriedly made her way to it, and plopped herself on the ground at the trees trunk.

[Cayreth]

Walking through the gates walked the crazed- looking gnome with wildly- styled grayish-white hair and a long unkempt beard of the same color. Strapped to his back was a scabbard housing a sword which emanated a red glow, and tucked into his belt was a scepter adorned with a small skull. He wore a pair of dark goggles covering his eyes, and used crooked walking stick to walk towards the captain.

Trailing along in a subservient, yet oddly enough concerned manner was the Warlock’s Succubus.

“So, ye be Teere, then, eh?” the gnome stated, somewhat grumpily in a thick, dwarvish accent.

“Aye.” Teere said guardedly, trying to recall the gnomes name.

“Gnarlzwhite, also be known by Gnarlz, Gnarly, Gnarlz th’ Whi’e, master, an’ jest plain ‘god’ by some!” The last words punctuated by an elbow to Teere’s shoulder and a cackle from the crazed gnome.

“Ahh. Yer the one who was so appreciative of the delivery, were you not?” asked Teere. He noticed there was something not quite right about this gnome.

“Hmphf,” grunted the gnome. He sat beside Teere and raised his arm to rub his temples. “Aye, am al’ays appreci’tive th’ night th’ cask is opened. Tis th’ morn after I do curse th’ vile concoction. Sor’y abou’ tha’, by the by… There may no be too much o’ i’ left.” The gnome winced then glared as his Succubus playfully cracked her whip.

“What?” asked Teere in disbelief. How was it such a little being consume that much alcohol?

“Well, tha’ wha’ I came t’ tell ye. Gnome I may be, but twas raised Dwarf. It do account fer me way o’ speech,” explained Gnarlzwhite defensively. “I came t’ recompense ye wha’ I can.”

The gnome tossed over a small pouch filled with a mix of coins: copper, silver, and gold.

Though still baffled by the liquor capacity of this gnome, Teere calmed his brief lapse in facial expression, Teere replied “Oh. Well, then. A cask unopened is a labor unjustified, they say! There be more where it came from, and this should rightly cover the cask. Raised Dwarf, you say?”

The gnome brightened a bit and took off the goggles. His eyes were a bit glazed, perhaps by rum, perhaps not. “Indeed! Me ma an’ pa was part o’ th’ war o’ th’ races, ‘efore the ‘peace’ wez brough’ t’ ‘em by th’ Burnin’ Legion,” explained Gnarlz. He continued “they was killed in betwixt th’ fightin’ an’ all, though. Wit’ me jest a wee lad, a wandering hermit o’ a Dwarf di’ take me in. Twas a priest, he was, a missionary. Muhrgrad wez ‘is name! Enjoy gardening an’ mixing fantastic concoctions in ‘is laboratory along wit’ goin’ about ‘elpin’ they in need. Raised me t’ be selfsame,” the gnome stated pointedly. He sat, staring at Teere, a half smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye.

In an instant, the twinkle disappeared, replaced by a dark inner fire. “Then, th’ Legion walked the lands again. Tore through th’ lands, killin’ e’erthing in sight. As the folk were in need, me an’ Muhrgrad di’ done our robes, belted down as much elixir as we could, an’ set forth t’ find they who were in greatest need. Wez rather successful. Found many who needed us, those who were in out o’ th’ way places the o’her healers coul’ no get to.” Wez after un o’ these excursions tha’ we wez ambushed. There wez dozens o’ th’ foul beasts comin’ up a pass in th’ mountains we jest wez comin’ down. We two priests di’ our best t’ protect ourselves, an’ those we di’ jest finish helpin’” The Succubus was making soothing motions to the now shaking gnome.

“We was not powerful enough!” Gnarlzwhite stated, vehemently. “They di’ o’errun us. I wez in th’ middle o’ castin’ a healing spell on Muhrgrad when he knew our position wez compromised. His final act wez pushin’ me off th’ cliff, ‘efore th’ foul beasts o’ th’ horde di’ kill him!” Tears of rage and sorrow streamed from the gnomes eyes. The Succubus crooned at the gnome, and then began gyrating in a dance. The air tingled, and the gnome became calm once more, and the glazed returned to his eyes. The Succubus stood looking intently at her master.

“Woke up later, could’ve been hours, a day, mayhaps e’en longer. Wez hooked by a tree growing forth from th’ cliffside. I managed t’ free meself, an’ crawled my way back up th’ pass. The scene wez awful. Too awful fer words.” A shudder passed through his little body. “After our foes had vanquished Muhrgrad, they had made their way up to the camp we had just left. There wasnee a person left alive, an’ none o’ the remains were whole. Frem t’other side o’ th’ camp walked a demon. Foul beast wez it, engulfed in flame an’ the like. Inferno, is th’ breed. It rushed at me, seemingly hungerin’ fer me blood. A rage unlike any o’her engulfed me an’ I smote th’ beast in one word o’ power.”

[Cayreth]

The gnome sat there for a moment before continuing. “All me potions, an’ all me healin’ could do nothin’ fer these poor folk. Wez tha’ day I vowed t’ learn alls I could about these beasts an’ th’ power they command. I’ve walked most th’ world learnin’ what I can, killin’ any remnant I do find.”

Teere reached over, placing one hand on the gnomes shoulder in an effort to comfort the distraught gnome. “Your hardships are many, little friend, but you are a mighty one to have survived such as they. And here you sit, amidst your friends and guildmates.”

Clarity again returned to the gnomes eyes. “A good point ye raise there, Teere.” The gnome stood at this point. “They do be my friends, an’ are now as close t’ me as t’ call they family. As I said, I am a travled un. Far an’ wide have I traveled, an’ the name Olven Teere be known t’ me. Were yer deeds an’ acts be performed t’ those I call guildmates,” He leaned in to punctuate the rest of his whispered words further, “an’ I will certainly hunt ye down like a mangy animal an’ smote ye quicker than tha’ Infernal I di’ tell ye about.”

With that, Gnarlzwhite did stand up, turn around, and began walkin away. He stopped breifly, looking over his shoulder. "Oh, an' iffin I see ye makin' eyes at me Succy again, I'll gut ye an' feed ye yer own liver fer th' fun o' it!" Grinning toothily, he skipped into the woods surround the guild’s compound.

Teere sat, staring down the gnome in disbelief. “Twice!” he thought to himself. “Twice now I’ve been known, and twice my life threatened.” But, with guarded attention, at least this half- crazed gnome could turn out to be a powerful ally, threat notwithstanding.

[Cayreth]

It was late in the evening in Desolace, and most of the usual critters had gone back to there dens, awaiting the morning sun in which to bask and hunt. A single vulture was still sitting by its prey, a young and foolish troll, and was ripping out a last minute snack, when it heard a steady thumping sound. It crooned it neck and looked to the hill behind it, though its sight was obscured by the full moon above. The bird, curious as it was, was not going to go investigate, and was about to turn back to its late night snack, when from the hill top above an enormous flaming steed jumped from the top of the hill to the rocky outcropping below, and sped away at enormous speeds. The vulture decided that maybe it had had enough for the night, and flew off to its mate and its young.

Rakzuel could of portaled home, as he usually did, but for some reason he had decided upon a late night ride, and even he could not deny how much he enjoyed it. It reminded him of the late night rides he and Kayleen had taken, and he cherished ever moment of his recollection.

As Rakzuel approached the door of his tower a large red skinned monster in golden armor approached him, and speaking in the language of demons said “Greetings my master, it is good to see you. The tower has been well, though there has been some unusual activity on the beach.” Rakzuel thanked his Fel Guard, but to be honest was far to busy to care.

About an hour later Rakzuel had bathed, changed, eaten, and was on his way up to his personal study. He was excited for what the night would bring, and if all went well, he would soon be on his way to Tanaris to begin his spell.

As Rakzuel spoke the demonic command to open his study door, his acute demonic senses instantly alerted him to something amiss in his study, the presence of life.

Slowly entering the room, trying to appear as if he sensed nothing wrong, Rakzuel got to the center of his room when from behind he heard the silent ghostly squeal of one of his floorboards. Without waiting for even an instant Rakzuel spun and dropped to his knees and let loose a blast of Shadow Fury. He saw two of the three men fall to their knees and die, the immense blast of demonic energy killing them where they stood, but the third man was simple stunned, and it was this man Rakzuel grabbed by the scruff of his shirt and hoisted to the wall demanding “Who in the nine hells are you, and why the hell shouldn’t I rip your soul from this pathetic mortal coil!”

The man, still dazed by the demonic burst, muttered in a weak scared voice “Because I have gold, and need of your great power Lord Rakzuel.”

Rakzuel threw the man to the floor and pointed his outstretched hand at the mans throat, a glint of demonic energy glowing on the tip of his finger. “Speak.”

“I need you to cast a spell to show me a mans face” the man said, his voice growing slightly bolder.

“Why should I” Rakzuel said, his eyes glancing over to his notes. The warlock was proud of what he had created in this spell, calculating the speeds necessary to traverse time, using the dragon souls to punch a hole back through time to the present, it was beautiful. “After all, I have better things to do” said Rakzuel.

“Why you impudent Warlock, do you know who I am! I could have you kille ...”

Before the man could finish his sentence his entire body cried out in pain as Rakzuel’s curse taught him his manners.

“Why do you seek this man?” Rakzuel inquired lazily, ignoring the screams of pain from the man currently writing on his floor.

“That’s for me to know” the man said, still in great discomfort, “But these”, the man spilled out a large bag whose contents glittered gold on Rakzuel’s floor, “Are for you to take interest.”

Rakzuel looked down to his floor at the large mound of glittering gold coins. It really wasn’t a hard thing to do, cast a scrying spell, and this gold easily covered the material cost, and still left Rakzuel with at least two-hundred gold coins. Rakzuel sighed and said “I will need to know the targets name.”

The man smiled at Rakzuel and said in his most humble voice “Teere. I want you to get me the image of Captain Teere.”

[Cayreth]

"Alright, alright, just pass out the cards already!", shouted Ashjre as she grabbed her mug of ale, laughing, "So am wrong, what'cha point? All here to play cards, mmm? Not argue about the diet of gnolls!"

Continuing to laugh, she picked up the six cards sitting in front of her, while the Orc across from her pulled a card out of the deck and slapped it on the table with a grunt, "Gnomes high card. Everybody bid in."

Slowly looking around the table at the Orc dealer, his two Blood Elf friends, and her four crew mates, she dragged her hazy vision down to stare at her chips and to try to calculate how much she had to spare. She jerked her head back up as she heard one of her crewmates kick over the chair of one of the Blood Elves and start yelling.

"I KNEW IT! YA DAMN ELVES! YA ARE ALL CHEATERS!", he screeched before diving ontop of the prone Blood Elf wildly kicking and swinging his fists. Quickly grabbing her ale as her other three crewmates threw over the table onto the Orc and jumped on the other Blood Elf, she drained it well simulationusly trying to avoid the chaotic melee. Stumbling to the left of the fighting, Ashjre suddenly tripped over the Orc, who had smashed the table apart and was trying to stand up. Seeing her standing above him, the Orc suddenly lashed out, grabbing her foot and throwing her to floor. Shaking his head, and jumping to his feet, he drew his sword and bellowed "I'MMA GONNA GUT YA!!".

The words had barely escaped his mouth when Ashjre slammed both of her hooved feet into his stomach sending him flying back and out the door of the bar. Rolling over and pushing herself up, she quickly surveyed the madness before her. One of the Blood Elves was in the hands of two crew members well the third brutalized him, and the fourth was straddingly and beating the second. She shouted to the crew member still ontop of the Blood Elf over the cries of the goblin barmen for security and alarm bells, "Move, move! Find any valuables, then all must go! Not spending the night in jail!".

Scooping up the Horde trio's backpack and flinging it open, Ashjre and her fellow crewmember had began ripping through the goods in it when the first wave of Bruisers ran in, throwing a net over the group of crew members beating the second Blood Elf and subduing them with a series of heavy blows from their clubs. As the second wave of Bruisers charged in, they saw Ashjre and the backpack and started throwing their nets in her direction. Somehow managing to dodge backwards, she had started dashing for the backdoor when one of the Goblin barmen jumped up on the counter and smashed a heavy stick over her head. Falling down, she saw two Bruisers laughing and strolling up to her, "Ooooh.......this is gonna hu-", she managed to moan before they both beat her over the head and everything went black.

Ashjre slowly opened her eyes as she regained conciousness. Feeling light penetrate her head like a sledgehammer, she closed her eyes again with a groan and rolled up into the fetal position clutching her head. Once the pain started receding, she became vaguely aware someone was talking to her, "...never run from the Bruisers. Just makes 'em want to hit ya more. Ya know that Ash."

"Urrrrr.....shut up.....dun wanna open eyes....in same cell?"

"Nah, I be across the hall. Some sort of bad blood between the captain and the goblins. Any weapons we had are in their lockers and we are all locked up in seperate cells to double make sure we donna make no plans to escape. Stuck us in the good cells too."

"Figures.....get all of the guns?"

"Not sure. Around ten fell off ya well they dragged ya to the cell which worried them a bit, so they gave you a pretty through searching."

".....See if all the mini-bombs got taken?"

"Ooooh yeah. Don't even try and tell me how ya managed to get most of those in ya's hiding places. Would break me bones just hearin' it."

Groaning again, Ashjre slowly stumbled to her feet with one hand still clutching her head and lurched over to the bars of the cell. Holding onto them for support she squinted around the jail until she saw her companion, "Where is the rest of the crew?" she murmured.

"Sleeping off the clubbin' or up above us in the next level of the jail. Yell loud enough and they can hear ya."

"Nah! Please don't!" Ashjre pleaded. Slowly turning herself around as her companion chuckled and promised he wouldn't, she slowly slid to the floor and started systemically searching herself.

"What exactly are ya doing? That seems slightly awkward....ah! Why would ya try puttin' anythin' there, let be tryin' to access it!"

"Quiet! Need to concentrate. Can never keep track of all the surprises, doubt the goblins could find everything. Gotta be somethin' useful around."

"Arrg....how do ya bend that way...that is just.....I be goin' to sleep, wake me if ya come up with somethin'."

[Cayreth]

Shaking her head and continuing her search for several more minutes, Ashjre finally sighed, stretched, and rubbed her head and overviewed the small pile laying on the ground in front of her.

"Got it....powder.....more powder....flash....green leaf......OY! ow.....Hey! Wake up! Need a strip off that coat there.....don't argue, just heave over and give! Still want to be saved right? Then give!"

Watching as her companion grumbled about how his good coat had been ruined, she stuck her hands through the bars and grabbed the strips of cloth she had been thrown.

Quickly taking the cloth and materials laying in front of her Ashjre started assembling what looked like donuts with a bit of line sticking out of them while shouting over her shoulder, "Am sorry, but at least one of us has to get out. My gold buys a new coat at the next port, deal?"

"Deal, and how far back should I cower when ya set those off?"

"Uhh, would recommand hidin' behind the bed." Ashjre replied as she started strategically placing the explosives. She then tied a length of wire to the bit of line sticking out of each donut and then flipped over the bed. She then dragged the bed over to the bars as close as she could, and squeezed in behind it. With one last confirmation that her companion was safe, she tugged hard on the wire.

Everything seemed to explode at once into a giant hurricane as Ashjre felt the shockwave slam the bed into her and she was pelted by a storm of of ricochetting rubble. Coughing and yelling in triumph and joy as the dust filling the air coated her mouth and lungs, she kicked the bed away and surveyed her work; the once solid stone wall of the cell was now one large gaping hole. Assembling the remaining supplies she had and putting them into one convenient bundle, she quickly ran out her new door and jumped down to the Booty Bay docks.

Landing easy on the lower docks, Ashjre began sprinting as far away from the scene as she could, screaming at the top of her lungs for the guards to stop the jail break. Sliding againest a wall as several Bruisers flew past waving heavy clubs, she waited till they were out of sight and started running again. Hopping up and grabbing the side of the upper dock, she pulled herself up and headed for the nearest ramp to the griffin platform, calmly walking down the dock length and moving aside for another group of Bruisers. Slipping into the dark staircase of the griffin tower, she pounded her way to the top.

"Hey! Where is that griffin going? Stormwind? Perfect! Why care? This is why." Grabbing the man atop of the Stormwind bound griffin and throwing him off the tower, Ashjre leaped ontop of the griffin and smacked it hard on the rump, making it launch into the air. "Next stop, hide-out little bird!"

[Cayreth]

Teere sat, staring down the gnome in disbelief. "Twice!" he thought to himself. "Twice now I've been known, and twice my life threatened." But, with guarded attention, at least this half-crazed gnome could turn out to be a powerful ally, threat notwithstanding.

Olvyn looked down at the pouch of coins that the gnome threw into his lap. He didn't expect any payment for the rum, but in his situation he wasn't about to refuse it. Teere put the coins away and pulled out his pipe.

He had spent the day doing nothing but watching his new companions and trying to think up a way to get into Stormwind. The Indelibles came and went. Some would simply nod at Teere acknowledging his presence while the others tried to strike up a conversation with him.

He had watched as a young girl hid under a tree from a heavy rain, the same rain that woke Gnarlz up and sent him flying out of the camp, cursing and muttering something about the gear he left out to dry.

He had watched as the two Draenei dragged a dead murloc into the camp and were arguing with the night elf about the nutrition value of fish scales, while the elf's bear was inspecting the murloc with curiosity.

He had watched as Kotaiso spent the morning reinforcing the makeshift perimeter of the camp before disappearing for most of the day, eventually returning with blood stains on his armor.

He had watched as the Draenei who spent a good portion of the day fishing quickly crafted several bandages upon the sight of Kotaiso and carefully applied them to the warrior's wounds.

Teere looked up at the sky. The sun was approaching the horizon. Olvyn lit his pipe, inhaled the smoke and let it out a few moments later. A day has passed and he still didn't have a good plan. His mind went over several ideas only to refute them one by one.

Olvyn caught the girl's eyes on him. Ever since she came into the camp and positioned herself under the tree, Teere caught her eyes several times. Her gaze..... he couldn't quite grasp it. She looked at him as if she couldn't make up her mind if she liked him. The gaze would speak contempt one moment only to soften to compassion the next.

Teere inhaled the smoke again, paused for a moment, exhaled, got up and walked up to the tree.

"Hows ye doing, Miss... ?"
"Velice." A new feeling seemed to have entered her gaze --- curiosity.
"Miss Velice", nodded Teere. "I am Olvyn Teere, captain of...."

He didn't finish. The bear nipped one of the murloc's paws and the murloc, who apparently was not as dead as one would hope, jumped up and growled: "GRUUUUUUU!!!!". All hell broke loose. The Indelibles scrambled for their weapons. The bear didn't appreciate the murloc's enthusiasm and was growling back. The murlocs was eyeing each of the Indelibles, picking a target to pounce on. Before Teere could decide his next move, the girl whispered a few strange words and the murloc was gone, a white sheep in its place. Kotaiso ran up to the sheep and slit its throat. Olvyn blinked and the sheep disappeared, giving place to the murloc who now had the blood gushing out of its neck.

Teere looked at the young girl who was smiling and clearly enjoying herself.

He now had a plan.

[Cayreth]

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this..." She muttered under her breath as the two marched their way to the great city of Storm wind. Velice pushed a long piece of chocolate colored hair behind her ivory toned ear before peering once more at the Captain. "And, like we agreed....You're doing this at your own risk..." Her voice sounded anxious, and yet the girl pretended to remain calm and collected.

"Aye. I know wha' I be riskin'..." Started the captain, but never got to finish before Velice lunged at him, knocking the man over a stocky and prickly bush and into a pile of long grass. To any bystander, It would appear as though the girl had gone completely mad, pouncing on the man quite larger than herself as if she were in a bar fight. Putting a hand over his mouth to ensure his silence, Velice looked at the man awkwardly before climbing off of him, her eyes not quite meeting his except for quick glances. Keeping a steady hand on his chest to make him stay where he was, she rose from the grass slowly before she began to fix her hair a bit, and started to pick leaves and dirt from her robes.

" ...Are you okay, Miss?" came the deep male voice from the road.
"What? Oh, yes..heh, I saw a rat, and, it, it scared me..."
The Man, dressed in the attire of a stormwind guard, raised his eyebrow. "You saw a rat...and therefore jumped into a bush?"
Velice's face turned a shade red.
"Well...Yes. ..Sir." she swallowed a lump in her throat. " Rats can be a scary thing for a lady.."

"I find that a little hard to believe. And, hey! Weren't you with somebody??" The guard started looking around the bushes before Velice slipped in front of them, putting herself inches between the guard and herself. "Okay! I'll tell you!" looking deep into the guards eyes, Velice spewed out possibly one of the biggest lies she had ever told to a person of authority. " I...You....Erm, Well, you see, sir, I saw you coming...and I bet you don't know this...but I see you often, and, um, the real reason of why I jumped into the bush is because...I'm shy." she smiled at him quickly, taking her gaze away from his eyes and bashfully looking downward. "Shy...because of you, if you understand me, sir." she allowed her cheeks to redden in embarrassment, hoping that the guard would take it as a good sign.

The guard lifted his eyebrows to the hight of his ego. "Is that right?" A grin spread across his face. "Now..what did you say your name was?"
"I'm Velice. At your service, sir."
"Well, Velice. Perhaps we will meet again? I must attend to," He paused and grinned, " 'Knightly Duties' in Goldshire...but perhaps I'll see you around Stormwind and we can get a bite to eat sometime." Taking her hand, he kissed it gently while Velice faked a flirtatious laugh. "Take care, Sir!"

Making sure the guard was clear out of view, Velice poked her head back into the grass where the Captain sat. "Sorry about that..." she said, offering him a hand up. "I didn't know what else to do....I mean, I Could have turned you into a sheep, but..... I didn't really think about that option until just now, and besides, I don't know if you would really want me to, if all you had to do was hide in a bush and instead of risking the form of a sheep and-" she stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry, now I'm rambling." she was silent for a moment, looking around and drumming her fingers rapidly on the sides of her hips. "Right then." She said with a nod, "On to stormwind!" And with that final statement, the girl began walking off before the poor man could even say another word.

___________________________________

Velice, and the captain (Now in the form of a sheep), entered Stormwind. Leading the sheep by a short rope around the neck, she eyed each of the guards carefully, afraid that they suspected, and afraid that they knew. She only prayed that the Captain wouldn't do anything stupid enough to blow both of their covers.

[Xelas Stormfeather]

Xelas pushed Fager out of the way for probably the hundredth time. The bear was drunk again, which always gave the beast an absurd appetite. Fortunately, he was also in a jolly mood this time. Usually, Xelas' hunting companion lashed out at nearly everyone around him when he got like this. So, for now, the bear tolerated having his food-curious muzzle pointed out of the cook-pot, only to return a few minutes later once he forgot he was unwelcome.

The elf wasn't entirely sure how he ended up cooking for the assembled guild. Not that he minded, really, but he felt bad that his friends were stuck with whatever simple recipes he'd picked up along the way. He had recently learned how to make Westfall Stew, but somehow he'd never quite acquired a taste for Murloc eyes. Despite having a couple of specimens in a fresh carcass nearby, he feigned ignorance in preparing any portion of Murloc to two of his friends who'd brought it in. Xelas opted instead to roast the boar he caught earlier in the day, and planned to serve it along with some nice, crisp apples and spice bread. It would be plain fare, but filling and unlikely to sit poorly on anyone's palate.

Throughout the day, Xelas watched the man who had somehow been welcomed into the circle of his friends. The lanky Night Elf considered himself a fairly good judge of character, and many things did not sit well with him about this Captain Teere. Since joining The Indelibles, Xelas had been forced to mingle with at least one or two very unsavory souls. It was only Sylaurn's assurance of their trustworthiness that had kept Xelas from contriving to find a quiet means to dispose of them. Instead, he had simply vowed to himself and to the Light to kill them outright if they ever so much as hinted at betrayal or allegiance to the Burning Legion, as he secretly believed of them. So far, while some of his companions tested the patience he cultivated as a priest, he had never felt called to execute his private vows.

Xelas pushed a lock of long, dark hair behind his tapered ear as he turned the slowly-roasting pork. The motion helped to conceal the Night Elf's speculative glance at the Captain. The human was not overly remarkable. In many ways, the Captain shared a coloration very similar to Xelas' own. His hair was about shoulder length and black, which he kept gathered by a leather cord at the nape of his neck. Teere's thick mustache and goatee were also black, though these were shot with silver. Teere's brownish-green eyes had crows feet, and his deeply tanned skin spoke to years under a harsh sun and salt air. No, his appearance was common enough. But his seemingly sleepy, bored gaze clearly registered more than his expression gave away. It was that constant look of speculation, coupled with the suspiciousness of his arrival that placed the man firmly into Xelas's "Eliminate at the first sign of serious trouble" category. In the meantime though, Xelas would welcome the man as a brother until pr oven otherwise. Well... he'd try, anyway. He felt himself become tense and wary as he noticed the Captain get up and move over to talk to Velice. While the young woman was a mage, and as such was entirely capable of taking care of herself, Xelas found himself struggling not to go over and interject himself into whatever business Teere thought he had with Velice. Xelas forced his attention back to the task before him.

"Fager, stay away from that," snapped Xelas, when he noticed the bear sniffing curiously at the dead murloc. The bear ignored him as he often did, and instead, nipped at the carcass. The murloc's slimy skin glistened in a rainbow of iridescent colors as it leapt up with a throaty burble. Then, it hissed, showing rows of sharp teeth. All the Indelibles in the camp froze with surprise, but their shock quickly gave way to action. Xelas snatched up his bow, notching an heavily barbed arrow into place. The composite of wood and iron creaked as he drew it. The murloc swung its head back and forth, trying to choose the most likely threat. Meanwhile, ancient and arcane words tumbled from Velice's lips. The murloc distorted in a sparkle of lights and transformed into a sheep. Kotaiso, who commanded the Indelibles in times of battle, leapt forward and dispatched the creature with a deft slash of his sword. Xelas relaxed, easing the tension from his bow until it was once again slack. Although the arrow had been aimed at the murloc, the elf's eyes had never left Teere, ready at any moment to change targets. For a brief moment, the Captain's eyes met Xelas's. Teere puffed thoughtfully on his pipe. Xelas felt it was unlikely that Teere missed the threat. The elf nodded grimly as he slid the arrow back into its quiver.