Hint of the Past Edit
In a broken down house around
Pyrewood Village, a burnt piece
of parchment is found strewn
amoungst noticeably normal documents.
This only begs the questions,
Who is Code Name K
Who is the courier they were ordered to kill,
and was it even successful?
And worse of all,
who is the mysterious author of this assassination contract.
Way the hell down into the Eastern-Kingdom's ass end, a discrete meeting is held, as they often are in the shady, broken-down housing of Booty Bay. The first is quick to introduce herself upon the meeting.
"Kynareth, guy. If that's too difficult to pronounce for your dumb ass, 'Kiur' will work just as well," the forsaken female introduced herself to her temporary employer, a bulky elf hooded and armed to the teeth. What could this man possibly want with a humble warrior such as herself?
"Rude, but lucky for you politeness is not required for this job of discretion. It is dangerous to give your name, miss. But you may call me K," he spoke in a slow, commanding tone.
"Right, whatever. What's the job?" Kiur said, impatient and ready to work.
"Your job will be to carry a package, a small crate into Silvermoon. You need not know the contents. I trust you have a horse?"
K paused, still unappreciative of her abrupt nature. He elaborated, "Good. The pay will be extrodinary as you will be required to ride there as much as you can. The Flightmasters are untrustworthy and... people who I can only discribe as villains will be looking to the skies. Once the package is dropped off to you-know-where, it will be safe to return to me by any form of transportation you see fit."
Kiur normally priced her own work based on time and effort. She usually spiked the price once she suffered through unexpected ambushes, and sometimes even the expected ones.
At first it was a simple job, and it became more complicated once she had to ride through Alliance territory. She was able to avoid most of them, but she came across a peculiar roadblock in Silverpine. So very close to her goal, she found a dozen similarly-dressed, hooded blood elves in a line. Two meatgrinders were randomly in between them. It looked like a warzone.
Kiur stopped her horse abruptly, being practically nonstop (and having the advantage of not having to eat or sleep). One of the many yelled,
"We'll be taking that crate, undead!"
Now, in normal circumstances when sanity reers its logical head, one would not contest such a force with such odds. Clearly this courier held some importance. However, Kiur -NOT- being in her right mind and thinking only of work and income replied. "I think not, longears. I've taken this thing a long way, I ain't stoppin'!" Shortly thereafter, she motioned for her horse to go full-speed. It was able to pounce over one of their makeshift melee-tanks, having the luck to clock an elf with one of it's hooves. The elves scurried, getting inside their vehicles and giving chase. But Kiur was too fast, her horse being Grade-A Courier-Made.
She outran them and eventually made it to Silvermoon where the crate and it's contents were shuffled around Silvermoon's black market. Kiur feared for her unlife, ever so slightly. She hid in the city, aware of the several men who hunted her but were unable to enter the lawful metropolis.
At this now perturbed roadblock, one of the men screamed, "Back to Silverpine! She'll be back there some damn day!"
Another one made note, "Sir... does she even know she lives there?"
His rather rash question was answered with a bullet in his kneecap, "No questions, no excuses. MOVE OUT!"
Today, she sneaks between Silvermoon and Undercity via the subtle transport and continues her work.
RP opportunities: Adventurers could come across the above piece of parchment, and to those who have met Kiur might be able to bring it to her.
Another is acting as one of these elves. If you need more information on their personalities and their small group, let me know.