Over the Zeppelin Tower in the harsh landscape of Durotar, as the sun sets over the horizon, a single undead shining with an arcane aura on his shoulders and a contingent of three orcs, leaded by a finely dressed one carry on a lively conversation:
"This is nothing more then another consequence of the unbalance of power that your Queen allows to take place in her domains!! If this so much as smells as a threat to the Warchief there will be swift retributions, rotten one! She will be punished for her failure to control the actions of her own!" - out spitted the orc, clearly enraged. Peering at the mountains around him, the undead's semblant remained unchanged as he spoke:
"First of all, i'd recommend you measure the extent and the consequences of your words, lest you have no love for your skin... Don't trust democracy will keep your hide safe from my grasp...polithician. " - allowing himself a slight sigh, the undead turned to orc and faced him, his emotionless gaze slowly turning to a morbid grin:
"However i am aware of your concern and just how touchy your kin gets whan it comes to the use of fel energies... rest assured we aren't sleeping as some may think... this "Council" has been under surveillance from it's very beggining... " - the orc laughed, interrupting the forsaken's line of thought: "Some surveillance! You let them walk around with a Demon Orb!!!" A small but condensed burst of magic muffled out from the Undead's fists, causing the two vigilant armed orc guards to rest their thumbs on their ironclad axes. The undead spoke, his voice plain and toneless, but threatening nonetheless:
"Listen well! It does not surprise me that some of your kin is eager to once again feast on demon's blood, and neither it does that some of you abominate it and will go to any lenghts to dispose of demonic influences... none of that matters to me, what you must learn once and for all is that we are vigilant and our sharpest daggers have already begun to aim at this new threat of wich you are so fearfull!!"
After a short but noisy snort, the orc diplomat ironically replied:
"Vigilant... as you were when the Dreadlord caught you with your pants down? I recall your Queen kneeling helpless before Thra..." -- The sentence was left unfinished as the orc's head flew, separated from his body leaving behind a trail of blood that spilled down below in Durotar's sands... The undead's spectral blade was teeming with an dark aura as he spitted on the headless body:
"Fool of an orc... you learned the hard way how we take care of our business..." Almost before he finished his sentence the orc warriors where upon him, cleaving their axes against the undead's timely casted arcane shield, that held the blows as he began spellcasting his counter. The ever watchfull goblin tower workers were divided, some began organising themselves to end the brawl while others began taking bets on who'd be the winner of it. Before the next clashing of arms took place, the Zeppelin from Tirisfal began arriving the tower, packed with rotten Deathguards that seeing one of their own apothecarions surrounded by armed green skins where already hanging from the vessel's walls, arming themselves. What followed was an intimidating shout that froze everyone in their feet.
"ENOUGH OF THIS!"
From the zeppelin came an plated armor undead warrior that disembarked in a fast but morbid pace, his bones grinding against his armor and at first sight carrying no arms. All the undead guards stood still as he passed them by, all but the apothecarion that approached him and quickly began a torrent of words in his mothertongue. The orc warriors kept their axes high and the goblin bruisers were slowly coming close aswell. After a quick nod and a quick peer at the beheaded orc's corpse, the undead warrior dismissed the scientist, that blinked his way into the ship hissing at everyone. Adressing the orc warriors, the newly arriven undead spoke:
"Fellow members of the Horde... I am captain Rotarm of the Banshee Queen's Deathguard. Lower your arms and listen to me, i beg of you fine orcs." - Reluctantly, the orcs came closer the unarmed undead and listened to him, still wielding their axes. " I appologise for this... diplomatic incident. I assuer you the culpit will be severely punished. You managed your duties with extreme honor and efficience! You will return to your rulers with a brief message:
There will be no quarter for corrupted ones, undead or not, we will track down and neutralize this threat If indeed it proves to be one. We have no reason to battle here when we have a common enemy..."
As he spoke a young female undead scribe rushed to hand the orc warriors a small scroll, sealed with the seal of the Banshee Queen. This seemed to soothe them some way, as they stared at the scrolls, that reeked of magic made to numb one's senses. The captain grinned, and quickly ordered the orc warriors to return to their bases, to wich they complied immediatly, putting an end to the event.
As the Zeppelin began his route back to Tirisfal, the captain and the young scribe whispered in gutterspeak:
"Shadow bless this lure of yours... the lest they know the better... right captain? -
Aye. As eager for war as some orcs may be, it falls upon us to study the true meaning of this Orb that got them so nervous. You shall look deeply into this "Council"... try to arrange a meeting, i do not rush to trial our very own kin that easily, perhaps there is more about them that meets the eye..."
