Fresh Meat
Bjorked pushed the paperwork around her desk, as if sorting it would finish the task. But her mind was more on the odd happenings of the past week. Just before the mission to the Caverns, a bartender contact named Phil had sent a message that her package had arrived, and she could pick it up. Now, he was nowhere to be found. As a last resort, she hired a gnome to look for Phil.
It was no longer about the package. Yes, she still wanted to give the present she had ordered to her husband, but more than that. The fact that Phil was one of many people she tried to find but couldn’t bothered her.
“Turid, have you heard from Arson?” Razorwyn interrupted her thoughts, but she was glad for the diversion. She looked up from her unfinished paperwork at the tall Draenei.
“No. And when he shows up, I’m going to punt him all the way to Darnassus. Let him port his way back.” Her face was hard with worry, and Razor knew the harsh words covered her true feelings for the missing gnome.
“I’m sure there’s a good explanation.”
“Yeah, probably following that blasted rabbit of his!”
Razorwyn chuckled at this thought, but she was worried, too, as Bjorke could tell from her even more pronounced accent. “I’ll let you get back to work, Turid.”
The town bells chimed, and Bjorke sighed, knowing she had an appointment to keep. She packed up her papers, folding the application neatly to tuck into her tunic. As she made her way to Stormwind, to the tavern in the park, her mind kept going over recent events, and she rubbed the back of her neck, a feeling of ill-ease coming on her.
She walked into the tavern, pausing to let her eyes adjust to the dim interior. Upstairs, a pair of men discussed politics, while downstairs, a man sat under the staircase, and another stood facing the bar. Bjorke waited, assessing both of these men. Which was she supposed to be meeting? The seated man looked quite young, and so she approached the other, clearing her throat to catch his attention.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for…” She paused, tilting the parchment towards the candelabra on the table, squinting at the flowing script. “Ose Haxton?” She looked up at the back of the man’s head, and what appeared to be two yellow eyes blinked open at her, then closed again.
“I am he,” he said, turning to face her, smiling and showing off his strangely perfect white teeth.
“Nice trick,” she said, a bit disconcerted.
“I have many such tricks.” He bowed low, the shadows swirling around him, like his own personal darkness.
They sat at the table, Bjorke asking questions about his past, and how he came to the decision to join Sterling’s ranks. Bjorke was familiar with the ship he had been on, the Reason, and the reputation of it’s captain, Saiji Carrow. “How did you come to leave them?” she asked, leaning back in her chair to study the man.
“I’d done many things in my past, things… I don’t like to think about.”
Bjorke laughed dryly. “Haven’t we all?”
Ose chuckled lightly. “But when they started helping the Scourge… But when they started helping the Scourge… I had to jump ship, so to say.”
“I understand. I can now tell when it is going to rain, from one such parting.” Bjorke grimaced and put her hand to her lower back, over the rib a stiletto had shattered. “Tell me, why us?”
He took a deep breath, the shadows around him seemed to quiver. The priest quickly smoothed unseen wrinkles in his robes and spoke loudly, as if to cover something up. “I’ve heard whispers around the cities about you folk, all good things, of course. From such whispers I’ve gleaned that you help people and seek honor and glory in your work. I suppose you could say I would like the chance to make up for past sins.”
Bjorke sat there, regarding him. She had no qualms about allowing a man to make up for past deeds, but was he truly on the same path as they were? Or, was there something more? The hair on the back of her neck stood up, she rubbed at it. He could be a very powerful ally, and certainly, there were other orders, other guilds who had more to be garnered from an infiltration, if he were not genuine.
She nodded her head once, deciding. “Welcome to Sterling.”
A few minutes later, their business concluded, Bjorke and Hero headed back out to the bright sunlight. As soon as they had crossed the threshold, Hero began whimpering, chasing his tail around, and yelping, like an agitated pup.
“Hero! Calm down!” Bjorke scolded him. “What the fel is wrong with you?” He continued on, whimpering as Bjorke mounted her ram. She ignored him, and rode off. Hero caught up to her, panting, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, but she noticed he was no longer behaving oddly. “Hmm. Must have just been stir-crazy in that dark pub,” she thought to herself, before putting it out of her mind completely.
