In the underbelly of the beast

Dalaran’s underbelly had been quiet recently, too quiet. Mistress Fizzlesprocket sat idly flicking copper coins into the puddle below her feet. Even the Crow’s nest tavern was quiet.

“This is awful,” she said turning to the two men accompanying her. “We’ve had nothing since that joke of a contract on the servants of the so called ‘Dark Lady’, what she’s got to be so dark about I have no idea… What a bunch or bloody whining pushovers.” Her associates stood silently, implacable, waiting for their mistress to finish her ramblings. “Why is it so quiet? Hmmm? Well are you going to answer me you idiots?!” The first figure swayed slightly, his hand going to a dagger concealed within his jerkin. She started at this, “Idiots?! Not idiots! Never idiots! You know I love you both, I’m just getting frustrated with all this waiting.”

The first of the two silent figures finally spoke,
“It will please you then my mistress that we have a target.”
The second figure picked up where the first left off; their voices blending like spun silk,
“We have been passed down orders from the Over-watcher.”
Mistress Fizzlesprocket leapt at the news her excitement barely concealable as she tossed a cobalt grenade from one hand to the other.
“You were just going to let me go on and on about being bored out of my skull when you knew we have work to do?”
“Yes Mistress.” The first canted.
“It is not our place to interrupt.” Added the second, or was it the first still, she was getting confused.
“Well, out with it! Who have we got this time? Please let it be one of those damned light-fearing Draenei, bunch of cloven hoofed freaks, make me sick… A nice Troll perhaps! Their regeneration makes the torture so much more fulfilling.”
Her eyes glazed over as if lost in a distant memory as her two companions stood dutiful watch over her, they described to her in detail the essence of their assignment but it washed over her. She was already lost in the red mist. Her mind was recording, but all she wanted was to be out there on the hunt.
“What was that name?” She blurted to the first.
“Tattersail, she is a lowly cleric we believe.” They both said at once. Mistress Fizzlesprocket paced back and forth, tapping her foot in impatience.
“A cleric?” She sighed with disappointment, “We… WE?! Are being sent after a sodding cleric?!”
“Yes Mistress,” canted the first.
“It is not our place to judge,” added the second. The woman stopped pacing and sighed again,
“You two are both correct; we will have to make our own fun with her I guess.”
Although both men wore the death’s head mask of their former clan she could tell they were smiling, they always wanted more blood and by the deepest pits of shadow she couldn’t help but love them for it.

“There is more little one.” Chuffty turned in outrage; she hated people commenting on her height, the spring-loaded spikes that adorned her wrists were already firing as she realized who it was greeting her. All three leather clad assassins dropped to one knee in supplication.

“My lord, it has been so long.” Chuffty dare not look upon him; his eyes caused her soul to ache with the pain of ages.
“She is of the Illuminated little one, do not underestimate her.”

As if he had never been there the shadow figure was gone.

Chuffty jumped up in excitement,
“Boys, get your things. We’re leaving.”


((To be continued))

loved it mate all kinds of cool

I love the way you right Chufty, she's all like 'BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH'

ace!

So when can we expect to hear the next part, I wanna see the confruntation with Tattersail.

She could feel them; the warm pulse in her pocket from the soulstone her master had given her tied them together. She removed the small obsidian stone and placed it in the palm of her hand.

“Here she comes boys, be ready.”

Chuffty and her companions had infiltrated the Order’s barracks three nights before, since then they had waited patiently, slowly gathering information to make the perfect kill. This was an easy job, the girl seemed to be little older than a teen but Chuffty took pride in her work. Her infra-red goggles allowed her to see into the adjacent rooms, she could see the girl they had been sent for she was in the old mans room again. The infra-red showed him as a slightly darker splotch of red, the girl on the other hand was a bright white. Chuffty reached up to adjust the settings.
“Very odd,” she whispered to herself.

The old man shambled out of her chamber and along the corridor towards his own. It was late, neophytes went to and fro to prayers and night-watch. The time was now.

“Show time,” Chuffty whispered into the soulstone.

Silently three assassins of the great-deceiver melded from shadow to shadow, ready to strike, ready to kill.

old man...pain of ages..? please dont tell me the solicitation comes from Vaknor, my heart will give out


great story too!

I love penis.