The sun was setting behind the towering skyline of Dalaran, washing the signature spires with hues of red and purple. Far beyond the city limits, heroes bravely busied themselves in the defense of Azeroth, from the lowly gatherer to the most distinguished of monster-slaying guilds.

Meanwhile, everybody else was crowded outside the Underbelly entrance getting ready for a bender of a night.

Night's Fury in all their awkward glory stood among throngs of miscreants, slap-happy brawlers, and the shadiest of denizens. Only Rheaven, Gilly, Amán, Trixx, and Avi had managed to show. The twins scoffed at the thought of participating in such lowly ventures, and Flynn was preoccupied with shredding a stuffed griffin right in front of the poor human child who dropped it, much to their bewildered horror.

Rheaven scowled angrily around at the crowd with Amán close by, eyes closed in silent prayer for the fifteenth time since they queued. Avi was propped against a staircase, asleep as usual, and Gilly and Trixx were flitting around trying to charm the crowd into recruitment. They were met with almost unanimous mockery.

"Goodness, you'd think folks would be just itching to get in…I mean who wouldn't when I'm the primary mage in this guild?" Gilly vented in full sincerity.

"I couldn't imagine how they can resist." The night elf leader huffed, crossing his gangly arms.

"Gods, Rheaven, why are you so dramatic…" The druid was about to rebut when their tiny pink-haired companioned yelled out.

"Oh oh oh oh! Hey! It's Kaeli. Let's say hi!" The group turned their heads to see their eccentric Sindorei acquaintance in a raucous exchange with some other Horde. A rather large orc cackled loudly, pulling her into a headlock that looked both affectionate but also .. potentially dangerous. Behind the pair, a tall lady troll observed disapprovingly. Rheaven shifted awkwardly.

"Absolutely no—"

But before he could finish, Gilly was practically skipping towards the unruly crew, Trixx close behind. The horde eyed them curiously as they approached but without malice, at least for now. Gilly smiled charmingly, bending over to catch Kaeli at eye level, still head-locked and, thankfully, still breathing. Two more male trolls elbowed each other behind her, appreciating the generous view of her behind.

"Hey! You, uh…having fun?" Kaeli was barely able to gaze up but recognized the mage, tapping the orc's gratuitously beefy arms to let her go. He abided and she took a deep breath.

"Phew! Yeah, this dope is my prime sparring partner. His name is Gorn." She gave him a playful punch in the arm, which likely would have hurt anybody but him. He winked proudly at them. "And that is Shani, one of the best shaman in all of Duratar! And she basically raised me." The female troll bowed her head graciously. Gilly gave her a quick look, feeling she actually had a unique prettiness to her, with thick azure braided hair adorned with beads and feathers. Were she alliance, Gilly mused, and a little less… well … troll, she might have made an acceptable member of the Wine Club. Gilly considered turning opening her membership cross-faction as turned her attention back to Kaeli.

"Well, that explains a lot." The elf snorted, not at all insulted.

"So…you guys ready for tonight?"

"Us? Oh, obviously…" Gilly threw a cautious glance at her guildmates who stood a few feet away, sticking out like elecs in a sea of sabers. Rheaven was doing everything in his power not to look at them, which Gilly noted before turning back to Kaeli. "Say… any idea how to get these ruffians to join a guild?" She said, gesturing to the mass of bodies. The blood elf shrugged.

"Give it time. You might have better luck once people have got some liquor and fights in 'em." Gilly frowned. Fights? She briefly recalled Avi saying something about that, actually.

"Is that so?" "Yup! Hey, the doors are opening now. Catch my spar later! I'm gonna whoop this oaf's green ass!" The orc cackled, grabbing Kaeli around the waist and slinging her over her shoulder like a towel. He was easily three times Kaeli's size. Gilly highly doubted any green ass-whooping would occur, but either way, it was time to head in. She bid farewell to the group and rejoined her own. Rheaven's perpetual pessimism seemed to be replaced with uneasy anxiousness. Amán was utterly unbothered, as was Avi who had woken up and rejoined them with his eternally blank face. Trixx at least was practically jumping out of her skin in excitement. With that, Night's Fury made their way toward the depths below.

It was a much bigger event than she had anticipated. Gilly was unsure how all these people were going to fit. The sewers were not THAT spacious. Upon handing over their tickets and entering the underbelly they made their way to one of the shipwrecks-turned-cantina bars and ordered a round, watching as the place slowly filled up close to capacity.

Idle chatter and some libations loosened the crew and they managed to begin to at least enjoy their time. The forsaken named Gretch who always seemed to find them had shown up, siding up to Avi almost immediately. The creepy pair found a quiet corner of seats and a small table, a rare luxury, and settled on people watching and drinking in silence. A perfect evening for them, it would appear.

Even Rheaven seemed to unwind a bit, managing to speak to a few random folks along the area while Trixx had joined a small crowd of tinkerers like herself, all with the same sort of crazed wide-eyed fervor for mechanics.

Gilly slowly observed the crowd, trying to eye anybody who might fit into Rheaven's impossible checklist of standards. So far the place was populated with depraved loners and ruffians. A hooded figure a few seats down caught her eye for the briefest of moments, in particular, because their cloak looked to be made far too finely for a place like this. But her attention was stolen by a small group of three casters huddled in a corner and speaking rather frantically.

Feeling nosy, she slithered her way through the throngs and seated herself on a nearby barrel once within earshot. Based on their gear and auras, she guessed they were all warlocks.

"… just vanished. No word, nothing." A tall waif of a human man spoke. He shuddered solemnly. "Mistress has forsaken me." A male troll placed a sympathetic hand on the human's shoulder.

"Same, mon," he commiserated. "I don't know what be happenin', but me tink it's bigger than just us." He shook his head causing the rings adorning his large tusks to rattle.

"I've been hearing some strange…rumors… among other warlocks." The last of the trio, a gnarly-looking goblin woman, chimed in. The other two turned to her to listen. "It's not just the succubi, apparently. They're all disappearing." This new information was too juicy to ignore, and Gilly made ready to go over and question them but was intercepted by none other than the caped figure from earlier - a man just slightly taller than Gilly. He could be human or an elf but his face was blocked by the finely embroidered hood.

"Gilliana?" he greeted. Her eyes widened, not used to being addressed by her full name.

"Why… yes. To whom do I have the pleasure…?" she started, trying to bend her head slightly to see the man's face. All Gilly could register was long, luscious dark hair, a strong jawline, and a thin, smooth mouth. The stranger shifted his head to keep Gilly from being able to catch any more than that.

"In due time. May I buy you a drink?" Curiosity peaked, Gilly agreed and the two made their way to one of the bars. He gestured for her to order what she wanted, and naturally, she went with a sultry port the bar had a recent shipment of. They drank in silence for a few minutes, Gilly's suspicions increasing with every passing quiet moment. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.

"So who are you anyway? How did you know my name?"

The man turned his hooded head towards her, and she noted that he was grinning but still could not see the rest of his face.

"Let's just say I'm a past and future friend. You can call me Galen." He took her hand and brought it up to his lips. Against all better judgment, she found herself utterly enamored by the gesture.

"My, my, what a pleasant change of pace," she cooed, wondering if this mysterious stranger might offer some lessons for the impenetrable Avi. Hell, even Rheaven could use some pointers if her suspicions were correct.

"If you're suggesting that some other man is failing to give you the treatment you deserve, I must say that he is a blind fool." She nodded eagerly, noting that he hadn't yet let go of her hand.

"Blind, frustrating, somehow impervious to my wiles." She sighed dramatically. Galen let out a low chuckle.

"Well, my dear Gilliana, you don't strike me as the type to let what you want slip by. Perhaps you should confront this fool and question his utter lack of sense?" He motioned for the barkeep to bring them another round. His charms were utterly dizzying, or maybe it was the drink. Or maybe it was both, or all of it. Everything. She felt the corners of her mind grow a familiar tipsy sort of blur, but Galen's validation of her frustrations was far more intoxicating than any booze. She found herself staring in the direction of Avi, sitting ever blank and unreadable in his corner. Strange anger flared in her chest.

"You know what, Galen? You're freaking right." With that, she grabbed her second glass and chugged its contents in impressively short order, too distracted and riled up to notice the sinister grin her new companion flashed.