Baros stood near the window, watching a bird flying in the distance. He had been allowed to roam freely around with the exception of one wing of the manor. The grounds surrounding the manor were well maintained, due thanks to a night elf landscape architect.

Of course, the first thing he had done was walk right out of the manor, once he found the door, that is. He had followed a path that had taken him to what looked like the entrance to a tunnel. Two rogues stood guard at the entrance. Apparently they had known who he was because as soon as he had approached, they had stepped in his way, blocking him from leaving. Baros had toyed with the idea of pushing his way through, but knew his limitations and hadn't wanted to risk hurting himself in a pointless attempt.

Now, as he stood at the window, he contemplated just how long it would take for Shaw to get to him. He was glad that Kristie had stayed in Moonglade. Perhaps he would return before she did and his daughter would not have to worry about her father.

Baros sighed. Elenor, on the other hand, would know something was wrong and would worry for her husband. He paced away from the window. A part of him considered just taking this job and getting it over with so he could return home. Another part of him, the more stubborn part, refused to be bullied by this so-called nobleman. He thought about all of the jobs he had to get done at home and knew that Foreman Wick would take over temporarily just so the tasks could stay on schedule.

The door opened as he was mulling things over. When he looked up, he saw Stavron enter with a smirk on his face. "You've got company." He moved out of the way for Mathias Shaw to enter.

Baros growled out, "About time! Let's get outta here." He began to head towards the door, only to have Shaw put up a hand to stop him. Baros glared at him.

"I'm afraid it's not that easy, Baros." Alexston stopped and looked at the man, waiting for an explanation. "I'm here to make sure you don't do...or rather say, anything stupid."

"What?" Baros felt his temper rising. "You're supposed to be here to take me home! This guy kidnapped me! Do your job, Shaw!"

"I... don't have jurisdiction here, Baros."

Baros could see the frustration and apologetic look in Shaw's eyes. But the architect was still livid. "What do you mean? Even if you weren't leader of SI:7, your a damned rogue! You could have snuck me outta here if you wanted."

"You certainly seem to have no issues with my roguish ways when you are in need of them."

Baros glared again, but he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself to calm down. "What is problem, here, Shaw? Why don't you have jurisdiction here?"

Shaw indicated for him to sit down. Baros opted to remain standing. Shaw gave Stavron a meaningful look and the lackey rogue, as Baros will always think of him, left the room, closing the door. Mathias then looked at Alexston again. "The Stormwind Assassins Guild and the Assassin's League are two separate guilds. My guild is made up only of Alliance rogues. Jorach's guild is made up of any rogue who qualifies, be they Alliance or Horde.

"I've worked hard at maintaining a loose alliance with them merely for the information they can afford me. All that aside, if I take you out of here against their wishes, it will start off a cascading series of events that will not only break down the tentative truce between our guilds, but also start off a possible war."

Mathias put his foot on a nearby chair and leaned on his knee. "Now imagine just what a war of rogues would do to not only Stormwind, but everywhere else, too. Imagine just how we would attack each other. It wouldn't be armies marching into a battlefield, Baros. It would be small killer squads of rogues sneaking in and killing a target or more. This would continue until one or the other guild is completely broken down. Now imagine what would happen to Stormwind if SI:7 were no more.

"I can't risk the safety of Stormwind because you're too stubborn to accept this job, Baros. I can't keep my end of our pact, either."

Baros kept silent as he took all of this in. Finally, he spoke, looking Mathias right in the eyes. "Are you telling me to let myself be bullied into this?"

Shaw sighed and closed his eyes. "I know you hate the thought of giving in. I'm not going to tell you what to do. But I am asking you to think about it."

Baros grunted as he turned away from Mathias to look out the window once more. He was silent for a long time until he finally asked, "Do you still have that scar?"

Mathias said nothing, but pulled up his sleeve and held his right arm out for Baros to see. It was faded from when Baros last saw it. "If anything ever happens to me, Shaw, you made a promise. I expect you to keep your end of the pact as I have kept mine."

Shaw pulled his sleeve back down slowly. "So, you're still going to resist." It wasn't a question.

"I have my principles. I refused to be bullied back then, I'll refuse to be bullied into this now."

Mathias sighed. He seemed to be doing this a lot. "Then I'll go speak with Lord Jorach and tell him I'm staying... At least for now. Rinzik can handle things without me for a few days."

…

"Don't obsess, Jerold."

The apothecary glanced up at Gavor. The warlock knew him too well. "I'm not." He ignored his companion's doubtful look. Lord Aron was standing on the other side of the room with a blindfold on. Gavor will take him as far as the Wetlands, near the ruined town of Menethil Harbor. From there, the human was expected to get a gryphon flight to Ironforge, get his money, and meet Gavor back in the wetlands. If Gavor had any suspicions whatsoever of Lord Aron betraying them, he was to simply push the man off the flying mount to his death.

"I saw you watching him breathe, Jerold."

"I found it interesting to watch. That is not obsessing."

"It can turn in to obsession, and you know it. You've done it be- "

"Good-bye Gavor. Should all go well, You will be rewarded."

Gavor paused for a moment, but said no more as he led the human out the door. Jerold watched them leave. He knew that the warlock's concern was only in protecting his own interests. He dismissed Gavor from his mind and headed downstairs.

Jerold didn't enter the prison room. Instead, he quietly slid open a small panel in the wall that allowed him to look in and listen without the prisoners noticing him. He found this valuable on occasion. The living sometimes act differently out of his presence than they did when they knew he was there.

" -at about Adam? And, and, um..Kir- Kirlo..." It was the voice of the child.

"Kirlothenin. You can call him Kir if you want." That was Ileeya. Jerold looked into the room to watch them as he listened to their conversation. It wasn't often he had multiple 'guests'.

Kristie had her arms through the cell bars, holding Amy. "They're smart. They'll figure a way out of their situation. Don't worry, Amy."

Ileeya had her back to Jerold, but he noticed part of her tunic was torn off, letting her midriff show. "There. That should hold for now. I just wish we could get rid of the dirty diaper."

Diaper? Jerold had to sort through his memory as to what that was. At that point, Ileeya held up Adorei and Jerold spotted where the missing part of her tunic was. Ohhh. So that's what a diaper is. It all came back to him now. Babies were helpless creatures that didn't even know how to control their own excrement. Jerold frowned. Raising people from the dead seemed to be less troublesome than babies.

Still, he noted to himself to get her something to work as diapers. Jerold didn't want anything to happen to that infant...yet. Despite his telling the blood elf that she'll never be for sale, he was considering changing his mind in that. The child was worth too much. Mixed heritage children were rare enough as to make them valuable test subjects. But she'll have to grow a bit more to be able to handle the tests. The only thing they could do at this stage is to take some blood samples.

"I know you're hungry, Amy." Kristie's voice drew Jerold's attention back to the woman and child. "I am, too. Try not to think about it."

"I can't think of anything else, Kristie. I'm so hungry, I'd even eat broccoli!"

Kristie laughed. "I'll remember you said that." She seemed to change her tactics. "If you could have anything you wanted to eat, what would it be?"

"Um...Chocolate ice cream with a cherry on top!"

"How about a banana split?"

Amy seemed to relax a little and even smiled. "Yeah! Even better! It'd have chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream! And nuts sprinkled on top!"

Kristie made motions with her hands that Jerold didn't understand what she was doing until Kristie spoke again. "There. One banana split, Madam. That'll be thirty-five copper, please." Amy giggled and took the pretend ice cream from Kristie.

Jerold tilted his head at the odd sound. His prisoners rarely laughed, unless it was the laugh of madness consuming them. This was definitely not madness. Jerold closed the panel and opened the door. He absent-mindedly noted everyone within stiffen. He ignored them, and just looked at the child, remembering when he first saw her skipping in Moonglade.

Amy was watching him with fear in her eyes as she tried to get as close to Kristie as she could. Jerold stopped just outside her cell and just watched the child.

"We're hungry." Jerold ignored the human woman.

Amy's eyes finally tore away from his and she looked at the ground. Jerold frowned. He took out his keys and paused, recalling Gavor's warning about not obsessing. Jerold told himself he was just curious, not obsessing. He unlocked the cell, earning a warning from the hunter. "Stay out of there!"

At the same time, the child let go of her guardian to move as far to the back of the cell as she could. The human woman moved with her, once more reaching through the bars to hold Amy in a protective manner. Jerold stayed away from the walls of the cell as he slowly approached the child. Her fearful eyes watched him once more. He stopped at the center of the cell and tilted his head. He looked down at her feet before looking at her face again. "Skip."

The child looked confused. She glanced to Kristie who did nothing. "Skip...with your legs. You did it before." Amy shook her head at him. Jerold pressed his lips together feeling the dead skin tighten around him mouth. "Laugh." He tried again. He wanted to see this child act...well...like normal live children do. He wanted to observe just how different they were from adults. Idly, he realized he had never had a child test subject before. It was usually adults.

Amy shook her head even harder and started to tremble and cry. Jerold began to get frustrated.

"If you want her to laugh, then let us all go! She'll never be happy enough to laugh in this dank cell!"

Jerold's eyes finally turned to Kristie, knowing what she said couldn't be true as he, himself, had heard the child giggle just a few minutes ago. But his momentary...interest... was now broken. He turned and left the cell, locking it once more. He stopped before the long table on the opposite wall and picked up the cloths stacked there. He couldn't even recall why he had put them there so many months ago. He dropped the cloths in front of Ileeya's cell and left the prison room.

…

Flying through the air with a blindfold on is disconcerting at best. Flying through the air on a green proto-drake with a dead man's arms wrapped around you to guide it doesn't help the situation at all. Add to that the poison coursing through his veins, slowly killing him, and one could imagine just how Lord Aron Boxley was feeling.

They had been flying for three hours, and it wasn't until just now that Lord Aron had finally felt the beast start to descend downwards. A few moments later, they landed. Lord Aron asked himself for the hundredth time that day just what in the world he was doing. There was no answer from himself and he decided he must be losing his mind if he expected one.

The warlock dismounted first, then helped Aron down and lifted off the blindfold. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The sun was setting, but it was still light enough to see that he was in the wetlands. In fact, he could see the town of Menethil Harbor in the distance.

Gavor untied his wrists, apparently unconcerned about the nobleman attacking him. "Speak to no one except the banker. Remember, trying to communicate in any way about us or the situation you and your friends are in will result in your death." He moved closer to Aron and spoke with a snarl. "And if I found you've betrayed us, not only will I kill you, but I'll return and purchase those whose freedom you tried to buy, and give them to one of my demons to use as they will."

Lord Aron nodded his paled face. Then had to swallow before asking, "I'll meet you back here?"

The warlock smirked. "No. You are to fly to Arathi Highlands. I will meet you at Galen's Fall."

Aron's eyes went wide. "Galen's Fall? If I walk even close to there, I'll be killed!"

"Not if they're expecting you ...alone." Gavor then gave the time he should arrive.

The nobleman calculated the travel time it would take to get to Ironforge and back. "That's barely enough time just for the traveling. I need extra time to withdraw the gold from the bank, plus I wanted to get some supplies for my friends on the trip back."

"No supplies, Boxley. No extra time. If you're late, I'll fulfill my promise about your friends, then I'll come hunting you." The warlock, then climbed onto his mount and took off without another word.

Lord Aron Boxley turned and ran hard towards Menethil Harbor.

The flight from the harbor to Ironforge wasn't very long, but it seemed like an eternity to the nobleman. He tried to urge his gryphon to fly faster, but the beast seemed to not be in a hurry. As soon as he landed, Lord Aron ran to the bank, for once not caring about his station and propriety and how unseemly it would look for a noble to run places.

Fortunately, there was no line up in the bank and Lord Aron was able to withdraw the gold and put it in a backpack they provided for it. He withdrew some extra gold and ran to the nearest inn. He bought some parchment and borrowed a quill pen. He had been thinking of how to get some help and believed he had outwitted the forsaken.

He sat down and began to write a letter to Baros Alexston, asking how his friend, Mathias was. Absently noting that the inscriptions on his hand had disappeared. He found he could not write 'Alexston'. He tried to write a letter that had nothing to do with his situation, but found the forsaken had been more thorough than he thought with many words being included in those that he could not write. In frustration, he crumpled the parchment up and threw to the side. There wasn't time to figure out a way around it.

"Hey!"

Lord Aron looked up to see a rogue glaring at him. Apparently, the nobleman had accidentally hit him with the crumpled parchment. This gave him another idea. Lord Aron stood and approached the rogue. "How'd you like to make twenty gold?"

The rogue eyed him with a scowl of disgust. "I don't think so."

Lord Aron was confused for a moment, then realized that the rogue may have misinterpreted his offer. "I'll give you twenty gold for cutting my arm with your dagger." He ignored the look the man was giving him.

"I'll have to clean my dagger. It still has some poison on it."

"Perfect! Don't clean it and I'll give you an extra ten gold for taking me to the nearest shaman afterwards."

He knew the rogue thought he was out of his mind, but he didn't care. He pulled out the gold and held out his arm, closing his eyes and tensing himself for the pain he knew would come. The man did as asked and after cutting his arm, led him to just outside a building in the inner circle of Ironforge. He took his gold and left.

Lord Aron entered the building and held out his arm to a draenei shaman inside. He told them that it was a rogues dagger that had cut his arm and could he heal it. The shaman gave him a curious look. Although shaman could heal just as well as priests, most people went to the priests for healing. The shaman introduced himself as Farseer Javad.

"Was the blade poisoned?"

Aron opened his mouth to answer, but could feel his throat start to constrict. He closed his mouth and shrugged.

"I'll check for poisons then." The shaman got to work right away. Aron was well aware of time ticking away and he fidgeted in his impatience. The shaman noticed this. "Please sit still."

"Sorry, I'm kinda in a hurry here."

The shaman continued his work. The cut was healed. When the shaman frowned, Lord Aron's hopes grew. Farseer Javad looked at him. "You have two poisons in you. I recognize the rogue's usual poison. But the other..."

Lord Aron said nothing. He couldn't say it anyhow.

"I feel I must ask this, is there someone who... would want to harm you?"

Lord Aron had to word his answer carefully. "I'm a nobleman. It's part of the job that people dislike me."

The shaman fell silent and cast his spell to remove both poisons. Aron suddenly felt his stomach begin to churn. Bile rose to the top of his throat and Javad quickly handed him a bucket for Aron to regurgitate the poison from his system. He felt a little dizzy, but otherwise fine. "Thank you, Javad. If I am able at a later time, I'll come back to show more of my appreciation. But for now, I am running out of time for a meeting." He shook the draenei's hand and quickly left the building, proud of himself for being able to get rid of Jerold's poison. He never trusted the forsaken to keep his word and give him the antidote.

As he quickly made his way to the flight master, he spotted an arcanery shop nearby. A split second decision had him entering the shop and facing a gnome. "I need a question answered in two minutes before I have to catch a flight out."