Post by Arto on Aug 25, 2016 15:22:42 GMT -8
((Edit: If the images don't work, you may have to right click and hit "view image". No matter what I try, they won't show up.))
The beer in Darkshire was watered down.
Arto sighed and leaned back in his chair, choosing to ignore the creaks and groans of the old wood as it strained to hold the pandaren up. It only made sense that the beer was watered down. Since his arrival to the town three hours before, not one citizen smiled at him or even made eye contact. They feared him, or mistrusted him at the very least. In a town like Darkshire, a new arrival could only be trouble.
The large pandaren stood up and shrugged his shoulders, still getting used to the unfamiliar weight of the old armor. How long had it been since he'd adorned the gear? Two years? Three? The last time he'd worn the set was before the Alliance army kicked him out. The time-frame was a bit hazy. A multi-year alcohol induced haze did that to a person.
He scowled at the memory. Leaving the Shado-Pan before completion of the studies to help fight Garrosh and repaid by being forced to leave the only-
Arto took in a deep breath and cleared his mind, a technique he learned from the Shado-Pan. Now wasn't the time to rethink the past. He had a job.
This brought a smile to his face, likely the first one Darkshire had seen in some days. Tye, the worgen at the Golden Keg, would pay 100 gold to clear some bandits plaguing a bridge between Duskwood and Lakeshire. Though he traveled a bit of the Eastern Kingdoms with his unit, Arto had never been to either city. He left the inn, as well as the watery beer, in search of someone with some information.
After a short chat with the city guard's commander, Arto found the location of the bridge in addition to more about the problem. Apparently the bandits not only stole gold from lone men traveling through, but may be behind the disappearances of two local women, though the commander doubted it. The city guard was stretched thin trying to deal with an ogre problem and couldn't afford to use men on a job that was likely some addicts stealing silver to fuel their habit. He thanked the commander and headed for the bridge.
It wasn't too far from Darkshire, only a few minutes walk. Arto arrived shirtless and without any armor, gear tucked away on his rented packhorse. He waited until he felt eyes upon him and began rifling through his bag, flashing the gleam of silver and gold (fake in lieu of the real coin he'd earn from the job). He did this for a long moment before thinking it would be suspicious to continue any longer.
Grabbing hold of a lantern from the back of the horse, Arto sent it across the bridge and followed directly behind.
Nothing happened.
Arto cursed to himself. Of course they wouldn't go for him. Even weaponless and without even a strip of cloth to protect his torso, the raw size of a pandaren would scare off any small-time bandit. Arto deliberated on what to do as he heard the sound of a woman's voice in the near distance.
The pandaren quickly left sight of the bridge and hid behind a tree. The woman in question came into view, wearing a red silk dress and a white bonnet, walking alongside a man in a Gilnean tophap. They quickly made their way to the bridge. It wasn't but a few moments before an arrow slammed into the wooden board in front of the man's feet. From near the waterfall, Arto heard the barks of dogs and saw a skin and bones worgen aiming a crossbow at the couple. Two other worgen, shirtless and bootless, rushed to the couple holding daggers. One on each side of the bridge.
Arto wanted to run out and simply kill the bandits now. The only problem the possibility of them killing the couple before he reached. Still, even so, he would get paid. Tye had said to kill the bandits and bring proof, nothing more. Infact, the worgen hardly seemed to care about how it was done.
100 gold.
Light, it had been so long since he'd held two pieces of gold to rub together.
He almost ran out of the trees. But he didn't.
Arto closed his eyes and cursed himself again for being an idiot.
The man gave him belonging to the worgen, including his hat. The women was grabbed and dragged away by one of the thieves on the bridge. The man yelled and charged at the bandit, but was easily dodged and kicked over the bridge. The bandits made a quick escape through the hills toward Darkshire, crossbow-holder leading the pack.
Arto ran to the river and pulled the unconscious man out as soon as it was clear. Quickly making his way to the packhorse and grabbing his sword, Arto turned his attention to the hills and began chase.
Tracking the worgen was easy. They left paw prints everywhere and the screams of the woman were still audible even from their vast distance. Why didn't they simply gag her? Even the most foolish kidnappers wouldn't let their victim scream for all to hear.
It was less than an hour before Arto got to their hideout. It was a simple village, long abandoned by the looks of it. The three worgen all stayed in one small house, two outside sniffing around. They acted more like wild animals than the other worgen Arto had met.
He snuck in easily. The worgen in the house saw him too late and by the time he even flinched, Arto's open paw caught him in the snout. The worgen fell to the floor. Arto scanned the small building, cursing out loud at the sight.
The bones of a human lay in one of the corners, another set in the opposite. By the fireplace lay the still-breathing but bitten woman they'd taken earlier.
Arto tried to control his breath, but seeing the bones enraged him. He leaned over and grabbed the unconscious worgen by the arm. In one quick motion, he slammed his right paw into the bandit's neck, snapping it.
He turned just in time to dodge a lunge from one of the other bandits, pushing the dog mid-air into the fireplace. The worgen landed with a thud and the flash of flames before scurrying out and running at Arto again.
This time, he was ready. Arto put his weight on his back leg and pushed off as the worgen lunged once more. He brought his foot upwards in a rising sun kick, feeling the crunch of the worgen's jaw. It laid motionless, either dead or dying.
A twig snapping sounded from outside. Arto spun around and saw crossbow-holder with an arrow aimed right for his chest. It was too late to move. Arto flinched by instinct and wiated for the inevitable bolt through his exposed chest. Instead, he saw a fourth worgen run from in the house and tackle the archer faster than he thought possible.
The worgen wore a red dress, ripped at the sides, and a white bonnet, stretched to its limits. The female worgen looked back at Arto and her eyes shifted to the side where Arto saw a small pack of worgen running toward the house.
The two worgen battled it out with tooth and claw while Arto left the house and jogged for the bridge. He didn't want to leave the woman behind, but it was too late for her. At least, that's what he told himself.
Surprisingly, his horse was still there, armor as well. Arto thought about returning to Darkshire and telling the commander what happened, but decided against it. She wasn't paying him. Tye was.
Arto began walking toward Lakeshire, breath coming out ragged. He could catch a flight to Stormwind from there. Hopefully, the pandaren though as he walked the long road, Tye would reimburse the expense.
The beer in Darkshire was watered down.
Arto sighed and leaned back in his chair, choosing to ignore the creaks and groans of the old wood as it strained to hold the pandaren up. It only made sense that the beer was watered down. Since his arrival to the town three hours before, not one citizen smiled at him or even made eye contact. They feared him, or mistrusted him at the very least. In a town like Darkshire, a new arrival could only be trouble.
The large pandaren stood up and shrugged his shoulders, still getting used to the unfamiliar weight of the old armor. How long had it been since he'd adorned the gear? Two years? Three? The last time he'd worn the set was before the Alliance army kicked him out. The time-frame was a bit hazy. A multi-year alcohol induced haze did that to a person.
He scowled at the memory. Leaving the Shado-Pan before completion of the studies to help fight Garrosh and repaid by being forced to leave the only-
Arto took in a deep breath and cleared his mind, a technique he learned from the Shado-Pan. Now wasn't the time to rethink the past. He had a job.
This brought a smile to his face, likely the first one Darkshire had seen in some days. Tye, the worgen at the Golden Keg, would pay 100 gold to clear some bandits plaguing a bridge between Duskwood and Lakeshire. Though he traveled a bit of the Eastern Kingdoms with his unit, Arto had never been to either city. He left the inn, as well as the watery beer, in search of someone with some information.
After a short chat with the city guard's commander, Arto found the location of the bridge in addition to more about the problem. Apparently the bandits not only stole gold from lone men traveling through, but may be behind the disappearances of two local women, though the commander doubted it. The city guard was stretched thin trying to deal with an ogre problem and couldn't afford to use men on a job that was likely some addicts stealing silver to fuel their habit. He thanked the commander and headed for the bridge.
It wasn't too far from Darkshire, only a few minutes walk. Arto arrived shirtless and without any armor, gear tucked away on his rented packhorse. He waited until he felt eyes upon him and began rifling through his bag, flashing the gleam of silver and gold (fake in lieu of the real coin he'd earn from the job). He did this for a long moment before thinking it would be suspicious to continue any longer.
Grabbing hold of a lantern from the back of the horse, Arto sent it across the bridge and followed directly behind.
Nothing happened.
Arto cursed to himself. Of course they wouldn't go for him. Even weaponless and without even a strip of cloth to protect his torso, the raw size of a pandaren would scare off any small-time bandit. Arto deliberated on what to do as he heard the sound of a woman's voice in the near distance.
The pandaren quickly left sight of the bridge and hid behind a tree. The woman in question came into view, wearing a red silk dress and a white bonnet, walking alongside a man in a Gilnean tophap. They quickly made their way to the bridge. It wasn't but a few moments before an arrow slammed into the wooden board in front of the man's feet. From near the waterfall, Arto heard the barks of dogs and saw a skin and bones worgen aiming a crossbow at the couple. Two other worgen, shirtless and bootless, rushed to the couple holding daggers. One on each side of the bridge.
Arto wanted to run out and simply kill the bandits now. The only problem the possibility of them killing the couple before he reached. Still, even so, he would get paid. Tye had said to kill the bandits and bring proof, nothing more. Infact, the worgen hardly seemed to care about how it was done.
100 gold.
Light, it had been so long since he'd held two pieces of gold to rub together.
He almost ran out of the trees. But he didn't.
Arto closed his eyes and cursed himself again for being an idiot.
The man gave him belonging to the worgen, including his hat. The women was grabbed and dragged away by one of the thieves on the bridge. The man yelled and charged at the bandit, but was easily dodged and kicked over the bridge. The bandits made a quick escape through the hills toward Darkshire, crossbow-holder leading the pack.
Arto ran to the river and pulled the unconscious man out as soon as it was clear. Quickly making his way to the packhorse and grabbing his sword, Arto turned his attention to the hills and began chase.
Tracking the worgen was easy. They left paw prints everywhere and the screams of the woman were still audible even from their vast distance. Why didn't they simply gag her? Even the most foolish kidnappers wouldn't let their victim scream for all to hear.
It was less than an hour before Arto got to their hideout. It was a simple village, long abandoned by the looks of it. The three worgen all stayed in one small house, two outside sniffing around. They acted more like wild animals than the other worgen Arto had met.
He snuck in easily. The worgen in the house saw him too late and by the time he even flinched, Arto's open paw caught him in the snout. The worgen fell to the floor. Arto scanned the small building, cursing out loud at the sight.
The bones of a human lay in one of the corners, another set in the opposite. By the fireplace lay the still-breathing but bitten woman they'd taken earlier.
Arto tried to control his breath, but seeing the bones enraged him. He leaned over and grabbed the unconscious worgen by the arm. In one quick motion, he slammed his right paw into the bandit's neck, snapping it.
He turned just in time to dodge a lunge from one of the other bandits, pushing the dog mid-air into the fireplace. The worgen landed with a thud and the flash of flames before scurrying out and running at Arto again.
This time, he was ready. Arto put his weight on his back leg and pushed off as the worgen lunged once more. He brought his foot upwards in a rising sun kick, feeling the crunch of the worgen's jaw. It laid motionless, either dead or dying.
A twig snapping sounded from outside. Arto spun around and saw crossbow-holder with an arrow aimed right for his chest. It was too late to move. Arto flinched by instinct and wiated for the inevitable bolt through his exposed chest. Instead, he saw a fourth worgen run from in the house and tackle the archer faster than he thought possible.
The worgen wore a red dress, ripped at the sides, and a white bonnet, stretched to its limits. The female worgen looked back at Arto and her eyes shifted to the side where Arto saw a small pack of worgen running toward the house.
The two worgen battled it out with tooth and claw while Arto left the house and jogged for the bridge. He didn't want to leave the woman behind, but it was too late for her. At least, that's what he told himself.
Surprisingly, his horse was still there, armor as well. Arto thought about returning to Darkshire and telling the commander what happened, but decided against it. She wasn't paying him. Tye was.
Arto began walking toward Lakeshire, breath coming out ragged. He could catch a flight to Stormwind from there. Hopefully, the pandaren though as he walked the long road, Tye would reimburse the expense.