The stitches strained as the skin pulled apart at the sewn seems, pus oozing from the crack as the hand flexed and squirmed. It turned over, the owner examining the reconstruction of his extremity. Sighing, he looked up at his faithful servant. "How long until it is fully functioning again?" His voice was raspy and dry.
"A week at least, my liege." The figure was bent over, resting on a gnarled staff that resembled his own body. "It is a dark magic, sir. Wounds from such are difficult to heal. Often, time is the ultimate mender." He bowed his head shortly.
The Lord of the Forgotten Kingdom nodded, curling his fingers into a fist, a small squishing sound emanating from his hand. "Very well. I take it the assassin has been apprehended?" He clasped his hands behind his back, glancing down at the small island his guild ruled. The tower was very tall indeed, often the temperature being drastically cooler in the topmost room, a slight fog surrounding it.
The assistant nodded deeply, "Yes, sir. He is in the lower levels. Master Alchemist Candell is with him."
Stepping forward, the Lord sounded pleased. "Excellent. Perhaps now we'll know who is behind this cowardly deed." Before his assistant could reply, the Lord stepped forward off the edge of the tower, disappearing from sight. His servant merely shook his head, shambling out of the Master's chambers. He closed the door with a tug of his undead hand.
***
"Do you have any idea what this could do?" Archmage Pym Ironcaster sat in his chair in the Council Chamber's of the Order of the Phantom Hand. "You sent an assassin to the Forgotten Kingdom without consulting the Master of this order? Or the council?" The gnome's small stature did not do his booming voice justice.
Anu'Rak stood tall, jutting his tusks in the air, "I jus' be doing what is right for ta Order. Dat guild goes against everytin' we stand for, Archmage." His shoulders back, the troll believed in what he said.
A tall knight elf gestured to the troll, "Assassination is not upheld by our beliefs, Anu'Rak. You know this. We cannot permit one who commits these acts in our Order. We are the peacekeepers. We work with the Kirin Tor, the leaders of the factions, the earth shakers of our world. We are not ones of violence and deception. This act is against what we teach." He held his head in his hands as he sighed. "I'm sorry, Anu'Rak, but I have no choice but to expel you from the Order.
"I tried ta get dis murderer an' I be punished? Dis is no good, council." The troll peered with angry eyes to the council members. "I be tryin' ta stop dat monster ta stop his conquest and I be turned away?" He shook his shaggy head, staring at the ground. "Fine den. But when he be at you's doorstep, I won't be dere ta help." The troll shot a last look at the night elf before he slowly exited the chambers.
The tension in the room was slow to fall as the council breathed deep the somber air of condemnation. Finally, Ironcaster broke the silence. "We send a diplomat. No matter what we think of their beliefs, we cannot afford an all-out war with the Forgotten right now. They need to know that this was not an act sanctioned by the Order."
The night elf rested his chin on folded hands, "We do need to send someone, but who? With the current tensions between the factions from Ulduar, we cannot afford to lose many council members to this errand right now. It is quite a journey and one cannot go alone."
"I can go, Master Wibus Alquarian." The voice squeaked from the entrance. It was a gnome clad in an intimidating set of armor, two deadly axes strapped to his back. He stepped forward, "I offer my services as Jonathan Pinta, the Guard Captain of the Order, to escort a council member to the home of the Forgotten Kingdom." He knelt in the center of the chamber.
Wibus sat back in his seat, frowning in thought. "It would be safer with two. And only one council member would need to be spared." He looked around the chambers, "Who among you will volunteer to journey to the Forgotten Kingdom, to speak with Sumer Ev'as to represent our Order?"
There was a long pause as the few council members glanced around the room. A few throats were cleared as the council sat, waiting. Finally, Ironcaster stood, "I will go to the Forgotten Kingdom. I will speak with Sumer Ev'as on our behalf."
Wibus bit his lip, "You're prepared to take the burden of representing us to a hostile organization? To travel across the sea to the Eastern Kingdoms?"
Ironcaster nodded somberly, "I am, Master Alquerian. Together, Pinta and I can make the journey to the Forgotten Kingdom in Tirisfal, and return safely in a matter of days."
A pause filled the room as the matter was simultaneously mulled over in each council member's mind. Finally, a vote was cast. It was approved, the journey would begin at dawn.
***
"Aha! So the Lord of the Forgotten Whatnots came to see me at last." The human was seated in his cell, as jovial as a man could be after being caught for assassination.
Sumer Ev'ra only grinned, "You are a confident man. Ignorant, but confident." He flexed his stitched hand slowly, "Who sent you, rogue?"
The human smiled, "Ah, no." He leaned forward to the bars, "Now that would be telling. And I don't get paid to tell." He leaned back, reclining in his stone seat.
Ev'ra glanced to Candell who withdrew a small vial with a needle point. "That's a shame. It would have made this so much quicker." Ev'ra motioned for the alchemist to begin the treatment.
"Oh, yeah, one thing I forgot to mention." The man winced slightly as the needle was thrust into his arm. "Potions and poisons won't do too much to little ol' me." He winked at the alchemist.
Candell smelled the air, "Sir? Do you smell that?" He looked around the room. "It smells like-"
A loud crackling sound erupted from the cell as the human was wrapped in a blanket of black smoke. A bestial howl echoed through the chamber as a wolf-like figure charged from the cloud, shackles broken clean from their housing. The figure leapt up the wall with amazing dexterity, clinging to the banisters as it reached the open window high above the ground. Finally, the wolf-man sneered, its lips pulling back in a wide grin, "Sulfur?" The voice was deeper, more ragged. "That's the smell of a curse, ol' chap. That's the smell of a Worgen." The figure soared to the window, feet first, then poked its head in, "Name's Robert Cawl. Look me up sometime when you're in Theramore. Do love the weather."
The alchemist stood agape at the empty window. "… sulfur…" He whispered, clutching the vial so tight that it may shatter.
Ev'ra cursed loudly, slamming his rotting fist into the wall. "Damnit!" He clutched his hand gingerly. "I want him tracked down, found, captured, anything. I don't care if you have to tear him apart!" Ev'ra's green eyes burned brighter than normal. "I want to know who sent that beast and I want to know now!" He swept his arm across the table, multiple bottles and jars were sent flying to shatter on various surfaces.
The room echoed Ev'ra's frustration as the Lord slammed the main door with a fierce bang. The alchemist stared at the empty cell, tendrils of the cursed vapor lingering in the dark air. "... sulfur…"