Kinley & The Bounty Hunters Edit
Night fell across the city, the heavy downpour had raged for hours and forked lightning skittered across the obsidian sky followed closely by roaring bouts of thunder. The night watchmen took up their positions and patrols around the city, the heavy gates were bolted shut and Stormwind was settled until the morning.
The Old Town never slept, thugs and working girls bickered, argued and continued business as normal - the weather and time of day was of little importance. The Dwarven district was unusually quiet; the few Dwarves unable to sleep shared a friendly drink in the local tavern while the Gnomes that lingered there toyed with their gadgets. Across the city, the wealthy mage district was in peaceful slumber and the park, where the Elves would often congregate was the epitome of tranquility.
The heavy rain continued to fall; knocking out many of the street lanterns and plunging some places into perpetual darkness save for a flash of lightning. Just outside of the city in the dense forest of Elwynn a band of no more than five figures sat hooded and cowled under the relative safety of a large oak.
"Are we all clear on what needs to be done?"
The other figures nodded in agreement and moments later one emerged from the undergrowth and slowly made their way toward the large wooden gates. Slight in stature and blessed with an elegant grace the figure wrapped its knuckles against a small porthole on one side of the door. A few moments passed and the knocking was repeated with a greater force, the porthole slid open and the rubbery, pot marked face of guardsman appeared on the other side.
"Oo goes there?"
The hooded figure pulled down her cowl, her delicate face was framed by wispy blonde locks and she feigned a look of fright perfectly.
"Please sir! I've been on the road for days, it's my husband sir, he's gone mad - tried to kill me he did! Please, let me come in!"
The guardsman shook his head.
"You knows'a rules, no one gets in or out afta' sunset. Go on, off with ya."
The woman's face sank; looking to the guardsman through a pair of self pitying eyes she adjusted her cloak, displaying a glimpse of her cleavage. Her skin was wet from the rain, small droplets of water sat upon her chest and glided into one another and her sodden shirt clung to her frame, revealing all it needed.
"It must get lonely in there sir, are you sure you can't make an exception? I'll be ever so discreet sir."
The man’s eyes fell upon the young woman’s body, casting a glance over his shoulder and back again he swallowed loudly in anticipation. Closing the porthole shut the lock of a small side door in the gate was undone, and the woman stepped through, the door closing behind her. Back in the forest the band of figures swiftly made their way toward the gates and huddled beside the porthole, little after they arrived a blood curdling moan on the other side of the gate was masked by a clap of thunder. The porthole slid open.
"Well, that was easier than I thought."
"Just open the gate will'ya?"
The woman pulled the small side gate open from the inside and the band of figures stepped through. On the cobbled floor laid the guardsman, his throat was slit and his blood was already being washed away by the pouring rain. One of the figures dropped a heavy pack before the woman’s feet.
"Get changed. Quickly."
The figure turned to the others and pointed to the small guard cabin.
"Yous two get over there, they always patrol in a pair and he's mate'll be along any minute, get rid of 'im. Rufio, you 'elp me dump this bloke into the moat - quietly now!" "Yes, Spooks."
The pair replied in unison and set about their duties with military precision, the poor weather and dim light made them almost invisible and the second guardsman was dispatched just as easily as the first. The bodies were slid delicately into the moat around Stormwind and their heavy armour pulled them to the bottom in an instant.
Spooks pulled free a rolled up piece of parchment and under the torch of the guard cabin he motioned to the others their plan of entry, the sewers. The facial expressions of the group said all they needed, it was a dirty job but the purse was high and Spooks wouldn't let either of them turn back now.
"Let's go, ladies."
The group clambered aboard a small rowing boat that was used by the unfortunate few whose job it was to keep the sewers flowing properly. The boat rocked and swayed under the weight but quietly they rowed it toward a large sewer gate on the base of the bridge, all the while doing so quite literally under the noses of the guards above.
Once at their destination the group silently stepped out onto a few moss covered stone steps. One of the smaller men pulled out a lock pick but before he even got close to the lock, Rufio, a huge man with ebon skin as black as pitch wrapped both hands around one of the bars and pulled it aside with inhuman strength. Grinning to himself, Spooks took lead and stepped through the gate with the others in close pursuit.
"Spooks, I can't see a thing!" "Shut up Verne."
The group clumsily followed behind Spooks who could either see in the dark or had memorised the plans so well he knew exactly where he was going.
"But Spooks it stinks something awful!" "I said, shut up!"
They'd be trudging through the filth and scum of the sewers for what seemed like an eternity when Spooks came to a halt.
"We're here. Rufio, get up there."
Spooks stepped aside; reaching to his belt pouch he retrieved a small match book and struck one against the side of his face, giving the others a glance at their surroundings. The sewers were old and decrepit; bits of stone had crumbled away with the constant onslaught of human filth. The heavy rain had loosened up huge chunks of dried excrement, the group had waded ankle deep in a river of filth where the fish were rats. Maggie, who'd done such a great job at distracting the guard vomited heavily against the sewer wall and the others looked on in disgust.
Seemingly unphased by the whole affair, Rufio climbed a rusted metal ladder set in the side of the sewer wall and worked away at the manhole cover above. The years of unuse had rusted it shut, but Rufio's uncanny strength was able to undo all of that and with a groan of exertion the cover came loose. Sliding it across the cobbled street created the type of sound that would've sent dogs running, Rufio pulled himself out.
"Ladies first." Said Spooks, grinning widely.
The moonlit sky provided just enough for the group to see their footing and Spooks tossed the match to the sewer floor. Maggie stepped foot on the ladder and let out a sigh of relief as the fresh air filtered down toward her, it was still raining heavily but it mattered little. Once she was about halfway up, Verne stepped toward the ladder only to be stopped by Spooks. Shaking his head at Verne, Spooks stepped onto the ladder after Maggie and motioned up to her backside while licking his lips mockingly at the two remaining men.
"You know what, Slim? I hate him sometimes."
Slim just looked at Verne; his pale sickly skin reflected the moonlit sky brilliantly. Verne shook his head and began the climb, Slim followed behind, his wiry, lanky body giving the impression of a spider climbing its web.
Once out in the open, Rufio slid the grate back over the opening and the group eyed the small alleyway waiting for Spooks' next order.
"We lay low 'till morning, and then the hunt begins. Be on your guard, this ain't just a normal grab and bag. He's a slippery fellar this one and I'd be disappointed if he didn't put up a fight."
Verne let out a brief smirk and shook his head.
"You sound almost scared Spooks, something we should know?"
Spooks turned to Verne and frowned; lowering his hooded cloak he grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck and pulled him to mere inches from his face. The rain poured upon them and a fork of lightning once again lit up the night sky, the sudden burst of luminance accentuating the large burned scar covering half of Spooks' aged face.
"You watch your mouth Verne; ask Slim over there what happens when you don't. You got that Verne? I taught this man everything he knows, look at my face! You reckon some, no good street rat this to me? You reckon some nobody took Slim's tongue?"
Spooks stopped a moment and let Verne go. Passing him a fading glance he smirked before looking across the group as he spoke.
"Now, let's move out ladies."
Once more Spooks led on with his motley crew closely behind, Spooks' words had hit home with Verne and his eyes darted across the city streets with heightened suspicion. The morning would soon come, and they hoped to be out before midday - it was a long journey back to Tanaris and one neither of the group wanted to delay any longer than they had to. Spooks knew they had their work cut out for them and wondered why fate had drawn him and Kinley back together, perhaps this was it, perhaps this was his moment for revenge. At least he had the element of surprise he told himself, Kinley thought he was dead.