(Written with Kaneka's player)
The man known to the Dark Iron dwarves of Shadowforge City as the slaver Stavros DarKovin walked into the Grim Guzzler tavern like he was an absentee owner. The fellow was of medium height and a solid, muscular build. Thick, coarse black hair came down to mid-neck, giving him a somewhat shaggy appearance. He wore stiff cuir bouilli leather armor, colored a deep crimson. He wore a pair of daggers at his waist; thick steel an inch wide at the forte, and tapering almost not at all until curving sharply to a point. Each edge was razor sharp. A black leather eyepatch covered his right eye.
Besides him walked a human woman clad in robes that indicated she was likely a mage, and an expression of barely restrained anger that screamed: "Please, somebody piss me off so I can immolate you and kick your ashes into small dust clouds." Taking on a disguise, she was calling herself Lavoy Fyr. Using a little bit of a glamour spell, she'd changed her hair from its usual raven's wing black to a deep vibrant red that mimicked the lava floes around them. Her top was tight, appeared to be made of buttery soft black leather and barely contained her breasts. Her midriff was exposed, showing off pale skin. The skirt she wore, extremely low on her hips, was made of the blackest velvet. Around her waist, several thin chains of silver tingled with bells as she moved with purpose. She appeared unarmed. Head held high, she walked beside Stavros into the Grim Guzzler.
The Grim Guzzler was the best tavern in fact, the only tavern in Shdowforge City, located in the magma-filled depths of Blackrock Mountain. It is part of Shadowforge City, between the gnome-filled Manufactory and before the Chamber of Enchantment. Occupying a large two-level area, it was filled around the clock with patrons either inebriated, or well on their way. Order was kept by Phalanx and Panzer, a pair of mechanical golems under the control of Plugger Spazzring, the proprietor. Slave servers hurried from table to bar and back again, making sure that the Dark Iron patrons were kept lubricated at all times, overseen by a Sayaadi named Mistress Nagmara.
Earlier in the day, Stavros had sent a letter to a certain Khorgheld Blaxeaxe, an unsavory slaver. Blaxaxe was quite wealthy, having numerous operatives in the Eastern Kingdoms who brought him slaves captured in raids and banditry to resell for various uses in and around Shadowforge City, both in the surrounding mine shafts and at the excavation pit in the Searing Gorge to the north, called the Cauldron. Their Dark Iron masters were known for their brutality and required a steady supply of replacements. The letter had indicated that Khorgheld would find a meeting in the Grim Guzzler with Stavros DarKoven to his advantage, and as DarKoven had supplied slaves Khorgheld for the mines before, Stavros had hoped that Khorgheld would meet with him.
Stavros led Madame Fyr to a nearby table and pulled out the chair so she could sit.
Accepting the offered chair, she lowered herself onto it. When she crossed her legs, the deep slit in the skirt parted to allow a peek at the red leather garter. She smiled and adjusted herself. "Thank you Stavros." Her voice didn't even sound the same, but was lusciously deep and smokey.
Stavros beckoned to the sayaadi Mistress Nagmara. "How may I give you pleasure, milord? Mistress?" purred the succubus. "Two Sulfurion Slammers, and some Rock-Salt Pretzels, if you please," he said in a gravely voice.
Lavoy lifted a pale, ringed hand to her deep crimson lips and stifled a yawn. "And do please hurry, I am finding myself rather...parched."
The succubus leaned in, murmuring "We can't have that..." and sought to moisturize Fyr's lips with her own before swaying off to fetch their drinks.
Chuckling, Fyr grabbed the succubus and let her tongue slide across the other's lips before sending her away with a slap to her backside. Her gaze turned to Stavros with a wink.
"Hopefully that will hold you over until the drinks get here..." commented Stavros in a dry, amused voice.
"Mmm, let's hope. I'd hate to have to take her right here on the table."
Stavros raised his eyebrows. "Business first, Miss Fyr... business first," he said, a knowing smile on his face.
They had not been waiting long before the Dark Iron slaver entered, flanked by a pair of thugs. As the dwarf approached the table, he called out "Master DarKoven! Quite mysterious, your message..." The Dark iron looked over Stavros' companion with a leer. "Selling more than mine slaves? Trading up in the world?"
Stavros chuckled. "No, I am afraid not... this is Madame Fyr, a magister of Kul Tiras I have hired to help with certain matters... I am come in haste, Master Blaxeaxe, hoping against hope to make it here before... well, I get ahead of myself..." Stavros signaled for more drink.
"I understand you have recently acquired a Kaldorei child?" Stavros asked.
"... I may have... and what business is it of yours, Master DarKoven?" replied the Dark Iron slaver.
"Nothing, except that idiot Stonefist was overheard bragging about it in the Golden Keg in Stormwind... he was arrested and put to the question. Even as we speak, the child-king of Stormwind is on his way to Ironforge, to demand of the Council of Three Hammers, to demand her release and return from the Queen-Regent." The Queen-Regent Moria Thaurissan was the daughter of King Magni Bronzebeard of Ironforge and the widow of Emperor Dagran Thaurissan of the Dark Iron dwarves, and as such was both the Princess of Ironforge as well as Empress of the Dark Irons. He son, born of the former Dark Iron Emperor was arguably the rightful heir to both clans, and Moira, as the Dark Iron representative to the Council of Three Hammers, had pledged the Dark Iron clan to support the Alliance against the Horde.
Kaneka, in her disguised, sat quietly during the discussion, eyeballing the thugs. The two bodyguards, quite noisy in their spiked plate and chain armor, leaned on their enormous double-bitted axes. One looked almost asleep, but the other was glaring malevolently from under his full helm, coal-red eyes burning.
"That Fel-damned son of a diseased kobold!" swore the slaver. "I should have taken his tongue when I took the girl!"
"Yes, well... that is the nature of the game we all play, is it not?" smiled Stavros DarKoven. "So... I have an alternative to your property being seized, and you being attainted traitor to the Alliance for seeking to sell the child of one of your allies to the Bitch Queen of the Horde. If that happens, you lose everything, your monies and property will be taken by the Empress-Regent... but there are alternatives, yes?"
"Aye, to bury the Kaldorei where she'll not be found, and now!" Blaxeaxe ranted, turning to his guards.
"Or, you could give her to me." Fyr offered. "I'll take her far away and none will be the wiser." She leaned back in her chair, uncrossing then recrossing her legs, that slit in the skirt falling open once more. "I've been looking for a Kaldorei child to... train. They are so incredibly hard to come by lately."
"Naturally, I would supply a finder's fee, which might save this exercise in being a total loss...." added DarKoven. "Let us say... a letter of credit drawn on the Bank of Stormwind, in the amount of one thousand gold?" As the slaver had paid Stonefist three thousand gold for the child, and DarKoven had confiscated the money, that would leave two thousand for them to deposit in the Stormwind bank for the child once they had returned her to Stormwind.
"And what do you get out of it?" snarled Blaxeaxe.
"Me? I get new... pet. To train how I want, do with what I want...maybe, when the time is right, I'll send her back here to be...your pet." She licked her lips slowly as her gaze drifted over the dwarf.
"No... I get what you get out of it... what does he get out of it?" the Dark iron said, indicating DarKoven with a toss of his head.
Her lips curled up into a wicked smile, a fingertip tracing over the swell of her breasts barely contained in the bodice. "He gets whatever his twisted little heart desires. If I get what I want that is."
Khorgheld laughed. "No wonder humans live such a short time... you spend your sap on useless hedonism, and not saving it to fuel your energies for committing acts of... Commerce!" The slaver looked at DarKoven. "Done. " he turned to his guards. "Bring her here."
Chuckling, she leaned back in her chair. "Hedonism is the oldest form of commerce." Lips curled into yet another wicked smile and she eagerly awaited for the girl to arrive, though she tried not to show it.
Some time passes as Stavros and Fyr make pleasant small talk. Eventually, the guards return with the girl being virtually carried between them as she is still about their height.
She stood a little over four feet tall and had long dark blue hair. Her skin was the color of lilacs, and her eyes shined in the dim tavern light like molten tin. She had bruises all over her body but appeared whole and undamaged except for some scars from the manacles she no longer wore.
Biting her tongue, Madame Fyr kept her spellcasting and temper both in check. She wanted nothing more than to burn the entire place to the ground along with every inhabitant. Rising from her seat, she glided gracefully toward the child. "My, she's but a little thing, isn't she?" Her hand reached down to take the girl's chin in hand. Turning it slowly from side to side as if inspecting her, she nods. "She'll do nicely."
DarKoven pulled out the letter of credit, and signed it over to the slaver. The guards released Kori, who stumbles over to Fyr, her gaze fearless, her face resigned and grim.
"Well, Fyr... if you are satisfied, shall we away?" DarKoven asks. "The further we are from here, the better when the arrest warrant arrives, after all..."
Reaching down to gently grip the girl by the shoulder, she nodded to DarKoven. "I am completely satisfied. Let's go. I do believe your payment is now due." Laughing, she guided the girl along.
"Yes... I look forward to settling our accounts in Dalaran," Stavros as the teleportation portal was summoned by Fyr. The three of them - Stavros DarKoven, Levoy Fyr, and Korynna Starwind - stepped through the portal and were gone.
The man known to the Dark Iron dwarves of Shadowforge City as the slaver Stavros DarKovin walked into the Grim Guzzler tavern like he was an absentee owner. The fellow was of medium height and a solid, muscular build. Thick, coarse black hair came down to mid-neck, giving him a somewhat shaggy appearance. He wore stiff cuir bouilli leather armor, colored a deep crimson. He wore a pair of daggers at his waist; thick steel an inch wide at the forte, and tapering almost not at all until curving sharply to a point. Each edge was razor sharp. A black leather eyepatch covered his right eye.Besides him walked a human woman clad in robes that indicated she was likely a mage, and an expression of barely restrained anger that screamed: "Please, somebody piss me off so I can immolate you and kick your ashes into small dust clouds." Taking on a disguise, she was calling herself Lavoy Fyr. Using a little bit of a glamour spell, she'd changed her hair from its usual raven's wing black to a deep vibrant red that mimicked the lava floes around them. Her top was tight, appeared to be made of buttery soft black leather and barely contained her breasts. Her midriff was exposed, showing off pale skin. The skirt she wore, extremely low on her hips, was made of the blackest velvet. Around her waist, several thin chains of silver tingled with bells as she moved with purpose. She appeared unarmed. Head held high, she walked beside Stavros into the Grim Guzzler.
The Grim Guzzler was the best tavern in fact, the only tavern in Shdowforge City, located in the magma-filled depths of Blackrock Mountain. It is part of Shadowforge City, between the gnome-filled Manufactory and before the Chamber of Enchantment. Occupying a large two-level area, it was filled around the clock with patrons either inebriated, or well on their way. Order was kept by Phalanx and Panzer, a pair of mechanical golems under the control of Plugger Spazzring, the proprietor. Slave servers hurried from table to bar and back again, making sure that the Dark Iron patrons were kept lubricated at all times, overseen by a Sayaadi named Mistress Nagmara.
Earlier in the day, Stavros had sent a letter to a certain Khorgheld Blaxeaxe, an unsavory slaver. Blaxaxe was quite wealthy, having numerous operatives in the Eastern Kingdoms who brought him slaves captured in raids and banditry to resell for various uses in and around Shadowforge City, both in the surrounding mine shafts and at the excavation pit in the Searing Gorge to the north, called the Cauldron. Their Dark Iron masters were known for their brutality and required a steady supply of replacements. The letter had indicated that Khorgheld would find a meeting in the Grim Guzzler with Stavros DarKoven to his advantage, and as DarKoven had supplied slaves Khorgheld for the mines before, Stavros had hoped that Khorgheld would meet with him.
Stavros led Madame Fyr to a nearby table and pulled out the chair so she could sit.
Accepting the offered chair, she lowered herself onto it. When she crossed her legs, the deep slit in the skirt parted to allow a peek at the red leather garter. She smiled and adjusted herself. "Thank you Stavros." Her voice didn't even sound the same, but was lusciously deep and smokey.
Stavros beckoned to the sayaadi Mistress Nagmara. "How may I give you pleasure, milord? Mistress?" purred the succubus. "Two Sulfurion Slammers, and some Rock-Salt Pretzels, if you please," he said in a gravely voice.
Lavoy lifted a pale, ringed hand to her deep crimson lips and stifled a yawn. "And do please hurry, I am finding myself rather...parched."
The succubus leaned in, murmuring "We can't have that..." and sought to moisturize Fyr's lips with her own before swaying off to fetch their drinks.
Chuckling, Fyr grabbed the succubus and let her tongue slide across the other's lips before sending her away with a slap to her backside. Her gaze turned to Stavros with a wink.
"Hopefully that will hold you over until the drinks get here..." commented Stavros in a dry, amused voice.
"Mmm, let's hope. I'd hate to have to take her right here on the table."
Stavros raised his eyebrows. "Business first, Miss Fyr... business first," he said, a knowing smile on his face.
They had not been waiting long before the Dark Iron slaver entered, flanked by a pair of thugs. As the dwarf approached the table, he called out "Master DarKoven! Quite mysterious, your message..." The Dark iron looked over Stavros' companion with a leer. "Selling more than mine slaves? Trading up in the world?"
Stavros chuckled. "No, I am afraid not... this is Madame Fyr, a magister of Kul Tiras I have hired to help with certain matters... I am come in haste, Master Blaxeaxe, hoping against hope to make it here before... well, I get ahead of myself..." Stavros signaled for more drink.
"I understand you have recently acquired a Kaldorei child?" Stavros asked.
"... I may have... and what business is it of yours, Master DarKoven?" replied the Dark Iron slaver.
"Nothing, except that idiot Stonefist was overheard bragging about it in the Golden Keg in Stormwind... he was arrested and put to the question. Even as we speak, the child-king of Stormwind is on his way to Ironforge, to demand of the Council of Three Hammers, to demand her release and return from the Queen-Regent." The Queen-Regent Moria Thaurissan was the daughter of King Magni Bronzebeard of Ironforge and the widow of Emperor Dagran Thaurissan of the Dark Iron dwarves, and as such was both the Princess of Ironforge as well as Empress of the Dark Irons. He son, born of the former Dark Iron Emperor was arguably the rightful heir to both clans, and Moira, as the Dark Iron representative to the Council of Three Hammers, had pledged the Dark Iron clan to support the Alliance against the Horde.
Kaneka, in her disguised, sat quietly during the discussion, eyeballing the thugs. The two bodyguards, quite noisy in their spiked plate and chain armor, leaned on their enormous double-bitted axes. One looked almost asleep, but the other was glaring malevolently from under his full helm, coal-red eyes burning.
"That Fel-damned son of a diseased kobold!" swore the slaver. "I should have taken his tongue when I took the girl!"
"Yes, well... that is the nature of the game we all play, is it not?" smiled Stavros DarKoven. "So... I have an alternative to your property being seized, and you being attainted traitor to the Alliance for seeking to sell the child of one of your allies to the Bitch Queen of the Horde. If that happens, you lose everything, your monies and property will be taken by the Empress-Regent... but there are alternatives, yes?"
"Aye, to bury the Kaldorei where she'll not be found, and now!" Blaxeaxe ranted, turning to his guards.
"Or, you could give her to me." Fyr offered. "I'll take her far away and none will be the wiser." She leaned back in her chair, uncrossing then recrossing her legs, that slit in the skirt falling open once more. "I've been looking for a Kaldorei child to... train. They are so incredibly hard to come by lately."
"Naturally, I would supply a finder's fee, which might save this exercise in being a total loss...." added DarKoven. "Let us say... a letter of credit drawn on the Bank of Stormwind, in the amount of one thousand gold?" As the slaver had paid Stonefist three thousand gold for the child, and DarKoven had confiscated the money, that would leave two thousand for them to deposit in the Stormwind bank for the child once they had returned her to Stormwind.
"And what do you get out of it?" snarled Blaxeaxe.
"Me? I get new... pet. To train how I want, do with what I want...maybe, when the time is right, I'll send her back here to be...your pet." She licked her lips slowly as her gaze drifted over the dwarf.
"No... I get what you get out of it... what does he get out of it?" the Dark iron said, indicating DarKoven with a toss of his head.
Her lips curled up into a wicked smile, a fingertip tracing over the swell of her breasts barely contained in the bodice. "He gets whatever his twisted little heart desires. If I get what I want that is."
Khorgheld laughed. "No wonder humans live such a short time... you spend your sap on useless hedonism, and not saving it to fuel your energies for committing acts of... Commerce!" The slaver looked at DarKoven. "Done. " he turned to his guards. "Bring her here."
Chuckling, she leaned back in her chair. "Hedonism is the oldest form of commerce." Lips curled into yet another wicked smile and she eagerly awaited for the girl to arrive, though she tried not to show it.
Some time passes as Stavros and Fyr make pleasant small talk. Eventually, the guards return with the girl being virtually carried between them as she is still about their height.
She stood a little over four feet tall and had long dark blue hair. Her skin was the color of lilacs, and her eyes shined in the dim tavern light like molten tin. She had bruises all over her body but appeared whole and undamaged except for some scars from the manacles she no longer wore.
Biting her tongue, Madame Fyr kept her spellcasting and temper both in check. She wanted nothing more than to burn the entire place to the ground along with every inhabitant. Rising from her seat, she glided gracefully toward the child. "My, she's but a little thing, isn't she?" Her hand reached down to take the girl's chin in hand. Turning it slowly from side to side as if inspecting her, she nods. "She'll do nicely."
DarKoven pulled out the letter of credit, and signed it over to the slaver. The guards released Kori, who stumbles over to Fyr, her gaze fearless, her face resigned and grim.
"Well, Fyr... if you are satisfied, shall we away?" DarKoven asks. "The further we are from here, the better when the arrest warrant arrives, after all..."
Reaching down to gently grip the girl by the shoulder, she nodded to DarKoven. "I am completely satisfied. Let's go. I do believe your payment is now due." Laughing, she guided the girl along.
"Yes... I look forward to settling our accounts in Dalaran," Stavros as the teleportation portal was summoned by Fyr. The three of them - Stavros DarKoven, Levoy Fyr, and Korynna Starwind - stepped through the portal and were gone.
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