Zaazas's blog

The small room she had rented in Dalaran was bathed in brilliant darkness. Heavy blankets covered the small window blocking out all sun light. Dark thick bolts of cloth were stuffed around the door frame, preventing any light from seeping in, and muffled any noise coming from the hallway. In the center of the small room, Zaazas sat motionless on the plain wooden chair. In front of her, a small work table. In the middle of the table lay a Dark Jade and Forest Emerald. To either side of the small gems were arranged tools from her Jeweler's kit. Completing the set were two tiny bowls. One gave off a faint glow of soft white, the other, a soft glow of gold, as if the tiniest sliver of sunset resided within. Zaazas sat completely motionless. Her eyes were closed. She slowly let her breath escape her lips. Calm. Relaxed. Ease. Sitting there in complete darkness, relaxed, her mind saw what her eyes could not.

Emerald Eyes.

Standing in the private viewing room of the bank, Zaazas carefully lifted the delicate dress out of box she had retrieved from the bank vault and set it on the small table. She then began the task of disrobing from her battle gear. Once undressed, she folded her armor carefully and placed the items, as well as her sword and shriveled heart, carefully back into the vault container and slipped carefully into her most prized possession: Her Dress. Peering into a small mirror, she straightened the garment, smoothed out a minor wrinkle, adjusted the fit, and rang the bell to let the vault keeper know that she was finished and she slipped past the delicate silk privace curtain and exited the bank.

Dear Diary,

Today in a party, I had a Warrior question why I blessed him with increased Intelligence.

"So you will fight smarter!" I replied.

Everyone busted out with laughter, except the Warrior.

He stomped his foot, yelled something nasty at me and stormed off.

I guess I should have blessed him twice.

Booty Bay.
 
There definately was a biting chill enveloping the port city of Booty Bay. There was also a dense fog hanging around everything. Pea Soup Fog was what most of the townsfolk called it. I agreed with that description. So dense was the fog that if you weren't careful, you could easily walk off the pier and splash into the chilled water! That was a situation I most certainly did not want to experience. After several moments of slippery travel, Zaazas made her way to the end of the pier where the Auction House, Bank and Mailbox were located. Zaazas expected a letter to be waiting, and she was not disappointed as she retrieved the envelope addressed to her from an unknown sender.
 
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(( Zaazas was not involved in this, but in an attempt at maintaining secrecy, it is written as such. ))

The raport of thundering hooves echoed off the surrounding landscape. The various Black Rock Orcs and Dragonkin took note of the rider, but resisted the temptation of strike at the intruder. The rider was carried by a skeletal horse bathed in the greenish glow of fel fire. The rider it bore, clad in the finest Mooncloth Gladiator armor. Both the rider and horse blurred by the shadows encasing them. West they traveled with all haste, towards the southern ramp leading into Blackrock Mountain.

Upon reaching the ramp, the rider veered to the left and continued down the less traveled path, eventually turning north to a dark place indeed.

Burning Steppes: Altar of Storms.

Zaazas sat quietly at the table laden with food and drink. Today was the day she would meet with him. Despite having enjoyed a fine morning meal, her stomach felt as if a swarm of butterflies were doing their best to create a hurricane inside her. To say she was nervous was the understatement of the century.
 
As Zaazas sat there quietly enjoying the atmosphere of the comfortable Inn, a Gnome entered the establishment. He was well dressed in exquisite attire and carried himself with confidence and ease. Zaazas' gaze wandered around the room once more. She heard the Gnome whisper something to Vidra Hearthstove, though she couldn't make out what was said. From behind Zaazas' back, Vidra Hearthstove subtly pointed her finger at Zaazas. A moment later, Zaazas heard the voice and her insides jumped in suprise as a polite cough sounded right beside her.
 

Zaazas left Stormwind that next night. She made her way to the Deeprun tram and took a ride on the next train to Ironforge. Arriving at the home of the Dwarves and Gnomes, she wandered around the circular structure for several hours. Even in the dead of night the place was humming with activity. Merchants were still selling their goods. Hammers were ringing against anvils and people of all races were out conducting business or just milling around the Auction House and Bank. In other words, just another typical day / night in the capitol.

Upon exiting the city proper, Zaazas took a moment to acustom herself to the biting cold. She hadn't really expected it to be this cold and she hadn't packed any heavy clothes to ward off the chill. She only had her leather armor and a meager cloak to ward off the mountain breeze and blowing snow.

A knock on the door sounded and Zaazas lept off the bed and walked across the simple room. She opened the door and there stood the old man from the alley.

"Please, do come in."

Zaazas motioned to a simple table with two chairs. On the table were two plates, each with a piece of cake on them. Two simple tankards filled with drink and 4 leather bound envelopes.

The old man hesitated for a moment, which caught the attention of the Night Elf.

"Oh, there is no trap here. Choose either seat and I will take the other one. Best to sit and be comfortable while we talk, then to stand around all stiff like and paranoid."

The old man took the seat nearest the door and Zaazas settled into the chair nearest the wall. The old man eyed the items on the table a moment before finally speaking.

Zaazas arrived at the Stormwind harbor without incident. As she disembarked from the ship, she approached one of the many guards and asked where she could obtain a map of the city. Without showing interest or any other emotion, the guard handed her a map and went about his way. Zaazas scanned the map for details as to where she might start her search.

The Park? Zaazas silently pondered for a moment and decided that those whos professions often included the shadows probably wouldn't be in a place such as that.

The Cathedral District? Absolutely N.. Zaazas' train of thought abruptly ended as she pondered the being being targeted. In a way, it would make sense to seek out the aid of those who followed the light... "No" she finally concluded. This was a hit, not a full bore crusade. Even against one such as this.

The Mage District? Again, didn't seem appropiate.

Zaazas sat at her small desk in the modestly small room. Upon the desk lay a sealed envelope. Zaazas thought to herself, finally, my first assignment. Sipping spring water from the simple goblet, she broke the seal and pulled several parchments from the envelope.

The first parchment had just a few words written.

As my agent in all matters, you will endeavor to make the necessary arrangements regarding this matter. It is beyond you at this time. Seek out the network and find the one.

Zaazas frowned as she came to realize that she had been relegated to a simple messenger. Setting the first parchment down, she read the second.

The following individual has been deemed a severe threat to all. Take this name and know the reason for your involvement will be minimal.