During the course of my life, I've realized that I will have good and bad days.

When I chose to follow the path of adventure, I quickly learned, to my great dismay, that the bad will often outnumber the good.

Apparently such odds still follow me, because I'm not even out of bed for an hour and already this day has gone to kodo crap.

Do I feel lucky? Hell no.

And of course, OF COURSE, it can't be a noble who wants me for an escort or something simple like that, nooooooooooooo, its gotta be Mattis Motherfing Shaw, leader of the stinking SI:7

Really, I should try my hand at the Goblin Lottery with how fan-fing-TASTIC my luck is.

Ugh.

Pixie seems to sense my displeasure at the whole situation… which could come from the fact that in the minutes since she said those words, I've been softly been banging my head against the nearest wall. She hands me the sealed scroll, all the while trying not to burst out into laughter at my actions I can tell.

Her sympathy for others has always been oh so very deep.

I flick my eyes down towards the scroll, the parchment is relatively crisp and the seal still looks fresh. Meaning this was done up very recently, no latter then last night.

I frown, what could be so urgent that they would dare call on ME? Usually anyone who attempts to come to me usually only does so when all other options have been exhausted. I mean to the point where it's come to me or trying to ask the murlocs at Crystal Lake.

They'd have much better luck with the murlocs.

Slightly curious I break the seal to skim over the scrolls contents.

"Lady Chelinka,"

I feel a muscle in my face twitch at the use of the term 'Lady'. I am, and have been many things in my life, but lady was never one of them. There is, in fact, only one person in all of Azeroth who can call me that without fearing for his life and it sure as hell aint Shaw.

"I will not waste your time with idle chatter or pointless small talk; I'll cut straight to the chase. Your expertise and experience are immediately required in a rather urgent matter. I request your presence no latter then 1pm today. I've instructed the courier of this letter to sap you and kick/roll you here if you insist on being stubborn. I'm well aware of how much you value your solitude so I'll attempt to make the briefing as short as possible, which will also inevitably depend on your willingness to corporate.Shaw"

Tch, well he's as charming as ever, but at least he didn't attempt to dress up the issue in honeyed words.

I bring my gaze back to Pixie, who's now watching me with an annoyingly unreadable expression.

Goddamn rogues.

"Well?" she inquires. "Whadda say? Commin?"

"Ha, not sure I have much choice do I? Come willingly or you'll sap me stupid and kick roll me there." What Pixie makes up for in stature she more than makes up for in her poisons. Hers are all home-made, and pack twice as much punch as any other rogues, believe me, ive been on the receiving end of enough poisons to make the distinction without a single hesitation. A sap attack from her daggers will easily have me on my ass for hours at least.

No.. I have no choice here, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to be docile and compliant, psh, where's the fun in that?

"Fine, let's go."

"Don't you want to get dressed first?"

Did I fail to mention that I'm wearing a simple blue dress, no shoes and it looks like I haven't brushed my hair in ages? Throw some dirt on me and I could easily be a more pathetic looking bum then Topper Mcnab.

"What do you mean? I'm dressed"

"I mean in your gear."

My gear? Haven't worn THAT in ages, why would I break it out now, for SHAW of all people? No, I think not.

"The missive said nothing about my attire, and I have absolutely no desire to put more time into this then I have to. Meaning I'm not going to put on my gear just to see Shaw and whatever twat is twisting his arm to get me to Stormwind."

Pixie seems miffed by comment. Good, I love this gnome but I'm not going to jump through hoops just to impress her boss. The fact that I'm even willing to go is a feat all its own. Were it any other rogue, I simply woulda melted their damn daggers with a pyroblast and sent them packing with a Dragon's Breath to their fing face.

See what I mean about having better chances with the murlocs?

"Fine, conjure an portal and-"

"Nope."

"What?"

Pixie is getting really agitated now, almost to the point where she's frothing at the mouth. It's all I can do not to break into a cascade of childish giggles at her rapidly becoming livid face.

"You heard me, no portals and no mounts either! We're walking."

"but-"

"The summons said 1pm, it's a little after noon now, so we got plenty of time to walk and enjoy the exquisite beauty of elwwyn."

"Fine ill meet you ther-"

"Nopeeeee!"

Pixie is right on the edge of livid now, I can see her little hands twitch towards her daggers, most likely thinking that it would be easier to sap me.

"…what?"

"You said, you would escort me to SI:7, that means you come with me, hmmmmm?"

"….fine"

She turns away without another word and starts towards Goldshire at a brisk pace, barely leaving me enough time to lock up and blink after her. Honestly, she knew I would be like this, she's known me for years now, so she should have been at least a little prepared for my retort.

Besides, she was laughing at me five minutes ago. My vengeance is swift.

The woods are as calm and peaceful as always, even more so now that ive cleared out all the bandits that use to conjugate around my house. I got rather tiered of dealing with the whelps every time I went for a walk, so I eventually just routed them all to the Fargodeep mine, beat the living crap outta em, and turned em all over the guards in Goldshire with a promise to not be so lenient to any other two bit thug that dared cross me.

And people say I don't care about the Alliance anymore.


Goldshire is as lively as ever, brimming full of merchants and fresh faced adventures who are too stupid to know better yet. Ah, this place always lifts my spirits, because no matter what hardships azeroth has faced, goldshire has never changed; a constant shelter in a stormy night.

"OI! CHELINKA!"

I feel my face stretch into a genuine grin as I see the infamous Remy "Two Times" waving me over to his preferred spot of the fence bordering Goldshire. I trot over to him, ignoring the piercing glare from my companion.

Honestly, if looks could kill, I'm pretty sure Pixie would be wanted for mass murder; her body count consisting of everyone she's ever run a dungeon with.

I causally throw my legs over the fence and lift myself up so I'm sitting right on top of it and turn, still grinning, toward Remmy.

Remy grins up at me on my perch, all the while taking in my attire and the silver haired gnome lurking behind me.

"Good grief girly, it aint even been three days since your last stunt, whadya do to warrant short silver over there to drag you from your fortress of solitude?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." I reply putting on my best innocent air, which only causes Remy to shake his head and laugh loudly.

"Mhmm, I'm sure you don't. I'm also sure you don't know about the fresh fleet of ships preparing to set sail for Pandaria within the next two days."

This catches my attention, as it was indeed something I haven't heard from my previous gossiping's and my uh, 'sources' are usually pretty thorough.

"And how pray tell did you procure such information, hum?"

"I have my sources girly and they extend a bit further then a farmer or two."

Ouch. That one kind of stung.

Remy turns to me fully now, all joking gone from his voice.

"Rumor has it that one of those ships will be carrying precious cargo, an ideal target for the Horde. So, they're looking for some way… or someone… to make sure it reaches its destination."

It all clicks into place: the Marshals attempts to guilt me back into service so suddenly, Pixie and her sudden order from Shaw, the urgency behind both situations.

Remy notices the realization in my eyes and nods in agreement.

"Ya, that's my suspicion too girly, Damn if I understand why, considering the last time they tried to get ya to set sail to Pandaria, I hear it didn't end well."

I can't help but smirk at that comment. My most famous (or infamous) feat (or scandal) to date.

"What exactly did you hear? I'm curious to what the rumor has deviated to."

"That you refused a direct order from the King and told him to go suck a Tauren hoof."

I flick my eyes upwards for a moment, it's enough to see everyone nearby is straining to hear, not caring if there noticed or not. Apparently my antics have been a hot topic lately.

"Hmm I don't recall telling him to suck a Tauren hoof."

"So it's true then? You really refused a direct order from King Wrynn?"

I open my mouth to tell him the full story… then promptly decide on a different route.

"Do you honestly think I would be here if I did? There's more to it than that."

"What?" He's asks, barley containing his intense interest now.

"Ask your 'informants'." I reply in the sweetest voice possible, while trying to refrain from laughing at his crestfallen face.

See? Swift vengeance.

"but-"

"That's enough."

Both Remmy and I turn toward Pixie, both of us forgetting she was there until she spoke up. Her lips are pressed in a firm line as she glares at Remy, before turning her piercing glare on me.

"We need to get moving, so start moving sparky."

"Aye aye, silver stabber!"

I hope down from the fence and turn toward Remy to say my goodbye.

"Well, Guess I gotta go, see ya latter Remy."

Remy clearly wants to ask me more but his gaze nervously goes to the annoyed gnome standing next to me.

Mass murderer if looks could kill for sure.

"I suppose so… be careful."

"When am I anything but?"

With that, Pixie ushers me onwards towards Stormwind, all the while ignoring the hush murmurings of the people of Goldshire.

"She didn't deny it! …but what did she mean by that?"

"By all means, go ask her… assuming you don't mind ending up like the Marshal!"

I am no fool, I've been living out in the world long enough to know how damning rumors can be.

And that's exactly what I want.

Rumors lead to doubt, doubt leads to suspicion and paranoia, which leads to fear…which leads to everyone avoiding me and leaving me alone.

Well…

I glance at the scroll still in my hand.

Apparently not everyone.

Perhaps I can rectify that with today's outing.

Shaw is more level-headed then the King but suffers from the same streak of pride. It's simply a matter of pushing the right button.

Yes, having both Shaw AND the King enraged with me should ensure that I'm never bothered with idiotic things like this again.

Maybe today won't be so bad after all.