Debt-Collecting in 5 Easy Steps

Step One: Locating the Debtor and a Interested Buyer
Aideyn readjusted her horns before slipping out of her current room in Brill’s inn. She looked menacing and deadly, from the soft padding of her black boots to the soft rustling of her green, grey and blue robes. Her black hair lay parted in a way different then her normal style. She walked out of the inn to the deathly quiet of night and the smell of the banked fire. The coals were dimly burning in the deep pit of the hearth and the night innkeeper slurped heavily from a mug of ale.

Tirisfal Glades was always so chilly, and the smell of rot permeated the air, especially when the wind from the Western Plaguelands picked up. The walk to the stable was quiet and short, with her snapping at a forsaken stable hand to ready her mount, a dead sickly pale thing with green vestments and saddle. The horse would have been a beautiful horse if alive, the bone structure lending itself to the image of a very refined and proper mare. “Ladee Desmona,” The stable hand spoke to her with the grudging respect of someone who might have had a curse or two put on them. “I didna git to groom Laverna las’ nite, so her she mite be a bit grum-.”

She cut him off by flipping a silver coin into his hand and starting Laverna on a course for the Undercity. Aideyn allowed herself a moment of relaxation to contemplate the name she had chosen for her oft stabled undead horse that she used for the charade of ‘Desmona’. The name was the same of that of the goddess whom presided over charlatans, con-men and thieves, and dealt with unlawfully made money. It wasn’t a subtle name, but its elven heritage combined with the fact that she rarely used its name anywhere but with forsaken, it was a bit of blatant clues as to her true nature.

Aideyn rearranged her features into the cruel mask of Desmona, spurring Laverna into the elevators and down to the base level of the Undercity, slowing for the treacherous steps that surrounded the bank. The slow, seemingly relaxed clip-clopping of her mount continued around into the Apothacarium, she slipped off her saddle at the main entrance, tethering the horse to a small wooden bracket where a torch hung.

Master Apothecary Faranell was not difficult to find, for all he was in the thick of the mayhem during the day, he was the only one left in the laboratory at night. He was leaned over a table piled high with papers and vials, examining them with a monocle that glowed dimly with enchantment.

“Good evening Grand Apothecary Faranell.” Desmona said quietly, her voice echoing slightly through the empty chamber. He startled, although her voice had been softer then the bubbling of potions and strange contraptions dripping them into new containers. The forsaken whirled, and she noted with a raised brow that he had acquired a jaw since the last time she and him had spoken. Perhaps he delighted in not being bothered by other races so much he pretended to not have a jaw to prevent himself from speaking to them more then absolutely necessary. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her agitation didn’t need to be feigned. She had spent many days finding translators just so that she and the grand apothecary wouldn’t have to try and make their way through a garbled conversation on more then one occasion, and now to find that he had a jaw… it was more then slightly irritating.

“Ah, good evening, Lady Desmona.” He had the grace to look guilty, rubbing his jaw with shifty eyes glancing from staircase to staircase, making sure no others would walk in to find him with a jaw after antagonizing them by making them find translators or stumble through conversations. “How can I help you this evening?” He asked after she simply glowered blackly at him for a minute.

Aideyn leaned against the table, finger rolling in a tapping motion. “I was wondering if you have had the chance to experiment with a forsaken specimen on the drug called messah?” The apothecary’s face had confusion written all over it.

“No.” He volunteered no other information, face smoothing into disinterest. She rolled her fingers again, he had shown weakness first, in his confusion, it meant some slight interest. “Wouldn’t it be a grand thing, if you could deduct from the sources in a specimen’s blood and dealer how to make your own brand of messah, something that worked in opposite ways, or only heightened negative senses.” She planted the dreadful idea into his rotted skull.

Aideyn could see the Grand Apothecary’s wheels turning. “The Dark Lady could never sanction such an action against one of her own loyal subjects.” He drawled out, raising the skin where an eyebrow would be normally. Desmona waved her hand arrogantly as if dismissing the worry.

“I fail to see how the Dark Lady would not sanction such a fate for someone who was once a member of Grand Apothecary Putress’s faction.” He stiffened, and Desmona’s chuckle was husky and teasing. “Oh, you didn’t think that others had noticed the Deathguard’s… failure when it came to rounding the remnants of that particular order. Or the Lady’s anger for said failure?” Aideyn leaned forward, arms pressing in and robe dipping out to reveal more cleavage as she traced one finger on the paper he had been looking at on the desk.

“Imagine what a prized pet you’d be, such an interesting new project with nearly limitless potential, tormenting and experimenting on a ex-Putress henchman.” Faranell grinded his teeth, and Desmona smiled. Worded like that, only a fool would refuse.

“I fail to see why this would interest you Desmona.” He still was showing too much interest in this game of who-could-care-less. Aideyn grinned slyly at him.

“With such funding that a project would give you, I can see a small portion of it going to the certain problem you and I have discussed already.” She trailed a finger over forsaken’s arm. “Not to mention, the little fee I’d have to charge for delivering such a specimen and small supply of messah.” Desmona remained leaning over, still revealing the hint of skin that even dead men might still respond to.

“How much?”

She inspected her nails in disinterest. “Six hundred gold, including the messah of course.” She could tell it was too high for him, by the look on his face, but better to start high and have them think they’re talking you down to the price you really expect to get.

“That’s too much warlock. I’d didn’t die yesterday. Three hundred should be more then sufficient, including the fact that part of the funding for that project would go to help you-.” Desmona interrupted him with a sneer a roll of her fingers on the hard wood surface.

“Five hundred is generous on my part, messah alone is worth so much, and to give you something to get more funding for, to get into the good graces of your Lady, that is worth its weight in gold is it not? Not only that, but such a strong specimen will last you awhile. It isn‘t a sickly little thing that you‘ll have to replace after one test.” Faranell raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps four hundred would be a decent settlement, seeing as I have no solid assurance that mentioning our previous failure won’t earn me more displeasure and the refusal of my new project.” Desmona’s face stayed impassive, as if angered by the drop in price. But Aideyn couldn’t stop smiling if she wanted to, Faranell had come out and said ‘his new project’. He had liked and latched on to the idea, something the smart apothecary wouldn’t have done if he feared the rejection of Lady Sylvanas.

Desmona retrieved a scroll from her belt, rolling it out and offering the forsaken a pin and a pen. This was one of those pre-made curses that Aideyn had up her sleeve in plenty. If signed in blood (or equivalent bodily fluid, do forsaken even have blood?), it meant that the contract signed would be honored under penalty of severe pain or even death. It was not often used in business dealings however, because of the fact that there was literally no way out of it once it was signed. But Aideyn had added a cause to protect her incase Vrek ended up dying before she could get him to the Apothicarium.

Faranell signed it, face disbelieving as he did so, and returned to his papers. “He’ll be here in two days time. Have your table or cage prepared for him, he is a strong one, however dumb.” Desmona rolled up the scroll and put it in her belt. She had work to do, no doubt her goblin contacts would request Lamia’s presence with the goods they were interested in purchasing, and she still needed to contact Master Hartwell.

Step Two: Collecting the Debtor and Other Valuables
Aideyn quietly slipped into the silky, barely there, dress behind a few trees. Her packs, and all unnecessary equipment would be hidden there for safety. She had to play this to a tee, and a slip of her bags was all she needed for the forsaken to bolt, or try and kill her. Daggers, poison and disguises weren’t normally in the bags of floozies.

‘Erika’ slipped from behind the trees, sashaying her way over to the front door of the shack that Vrek called home. It hadn’t taken long in the War Quarter of Undercity for someone to know where Vrek had run off to and why. Messah was expensive, and she doubted Krelle would have loaned the addict money if she had realized this was the loan was going to. Getting your investment back with interest is a difficult thing when dealing with people who’d sell all they own for a day under a drugs influence.

Erika drapped herself prettily over the door. “Hello Vrek.” She giggled, sliding into the house when the forsaken made no move to stop her. His yellow glow about his eyes seemed brighter, she walked over to him and sat on his lap, he just stared at her, gripping her arm with one hand rubbing it with his fingers. Aideyn restrained her disgust, smiling pleasantly. He was definitely on something.

“What are you-.” He started to ask, blinking while still never seeming to take his sight off of her. She raised a finger to his lips, tracing it. It was said that all the senses were heightened and that some forsaken took this drug to feel alive again. What would make a man feel alive again more then a beautiful woman desiring him?

“I’m here on Krelle’s behalf.” He panicked, scrambling and trying to leave, but she held him to his chair with difficulty. “Shhh shhh shhh!” She stroked his face, disarming him for a moment. “Now, Krelle didn’t know you had found a reliable messah dealer, and she’s willing to be kind if you’re kind to her. She’s willing to give you an increase on your time to pay, if you give me the name of your dealer and his prices.” His eyes widened at his good fortune. An elf, an understanding loan shark, and a extension on his loan, all for a little information? He nodded, opening his mouth to speak before Aideyn shh-d him again. “You have to sign this little paper first honey.” Aideyn had to admit she was laying it on thick, but as dull of wit as this guy was said to have been sober, she highly doubted he’d notice if she tried to be subtle.

Erika reached down the front of her dress, drawing out two rolled parchments. She handed him a pen and pricked his finger. He stared as his plagued blood rolled onto the tip of the pen. “Com’on hun, just sign here and right here.” She pointed to two lines on each parchment. He didn’t even read them, too busy looking at the blood elves cleavage. A dog growled in the corner and Aideyn blanched. “Oooh,” she wiggled on the forsaken’s lap, “Send that scary mutt outside!” She curled into his lap, hoping that he wouldn’t lock his arms around her. He locked one arm around her torso, shooing the mutt outside.

He lifted her up then, after the dog was out and started to walk clumsily towards his bed. “My dealer’s name is Lavinia Crowe, in the Apothicarium of Undercity. She’s the only one who doesn’t mix in other shite, so its more expensive then most other dealers.” He supplied his bargined information with a sneer, settling her on the bed. “Now, I’ve been reeeeeal helpful haven’t I?” He leaned over her, thrusting his crotch towards her. “So how about you ply yer trade on me girly-.”

Aideyn didn’t want to ever know if the forsaken could even get all their parts working like that, under the influence of drugs or not. She thrust his face into the heart shaped opening around her navel and felt the forsaken inhaling deeply. “Mmmm-.” He promptly began snoring and Aideyn rolled him onto the bed with a grunt, quickly pulling the rope off her leg and tying the Bladesmith up tightly.

“Good gods.” She shuddered and started looking around small shack of a house. There were plenty of pieces here she could sell. She got to work quickly, crating up all the finished and half finished pieces of armor and blades that the druggie had been making. Finally putting together a crate big enough for the man to be put in himself, slipping his small supply of messah into a boot, less it get used during the trip to Booty Bay.

He had woken up as she was placing him in the box, and started yelling at her through the gag he had tied with generous amounts of rope and force to his face. She chuckled and nailed him inside the crate. The weapons she would send to the Undercity to Master Hartwell, but the man would have to come to Booty Bay with her while she sold his dog, to prevent someone from opening it and releasing him.

His dog... Ugh she still needed to crate that monster up. She prepared a crate and wished that she had brought more slumber powder, that thing was big and the small amount she had left after hitting Vrek with it suddenly didn’t seem enough. She sighed, about to open the door when a yelping started coming from outside.

Aideyn flung open the door to find the mutt running around trying to scratch off its own face as something small and metallic clung to it. Tinks! The blood elf rogue threw the slumber dust in the brute’s face and nose, a lot of it going down the giant nostrils. The dog swayed drunkenly, taking a few more swings at the little squirrel on his muzzle before swaying and falling on its side. Quickly she dragged the mutt inside the house and into its own crate, making sure it was nice and reinforced before the pooch woke up.

Then she ran outside, to pick up Tinks and check the condition of the small brave little pet. The poor girl was okay, but with some scratches to plating that would need to be replaced. Aideyn activated the camera, watching as the dog’s nose came poking into the bushes shortly after it had been kicked out and raised its leg to start peeing on her stuff.

“Good girl Tinks, very good! You’re going to get a nut and some extra special oil for your hinges when I get finished with this job!” Aideyn pat the squirrel as she collected her things, only setting her down when she got dressed in her proper gear.

She spent ten minutes working painstakingly over a piece of parchment, embellishing flourishes and the language so that the sign itself looked believable. “For Rent by Owner”. She tacked the sign up on the door and proceeded to mark the crates to be shipped to Greggory Hartwell and two special ones to Ratchet.

Tinks stayed on the mantle, pawing at a piece of stone even as Aideyn used what was left of the dark of night to move all the crates to the flight master. When the rogue was finished she came back, to lock up and collect her own belongings. “Come on Tinks, its time to go!” She tapped her foot impatiently, obviously eager to get to Booty Bay and get rid of that awful dog, not even really looking for Tinks in the small room, simply trusting that she’d scamper over and be ready with her little gear-moving purr.

The small squirrel gave up on the stone above the mantle and scampered over, purring like Aideyn had expected.

Step Three: Sell the Damn Dog
Lamia readjusted her ponytail, absentmindedly wondering how much more her hair could take in the way of colors, cuts and growths, as she looked herself over for something missing in her costume. The two boxes over her shoulder started to tremble and make noise, she walked over and kicked the larger one loudly, resulting in a groan and a quieting of the racket it had begun to make.

She let the smaller box tremble and bark and make vicious noises while scooting it out into a conference room inside the Salty Sailor. The two goblins she had come to meet were already sitting at a table, looking bored and disinterested until she started scooting the box inside the room. One clapped their hands gleefully, while the second managed to contain his interest to a raised eyebrow and small leaning forward. “So this is the guard dog you contacted us about?” The first blurted out, eyes greedy and excited.

Lamia laughed good naturedly. “Oh yes, a more perfect guard dog you’ll never find. Doesn’t trust a single soul and barks at everything that moves.” Beneath the façade of a good natured pirate drunk, Aideyn winced remembering how the dumb mutt had almost destroyed Tinks before she had been able to slumber dust the monster. She took out a small remote from her pocket, and then opened the crate’s side, letting the dog bound towards the goblins before she pressed the big red button on the remote she carried.

The goblins already had fled to the door when she controlled the beast, sending it to the floor whimpering in pain. “The collar comes with the beast of course.” She smiled good naturedly. “You can examine him now, he’s stupid but he recognizes the source of pain and how to avoid it.” She sneered at the dog, a little of her anger at the thing shining through her pleasant seller’s mask.

The excited goblin walked forward with no delay after her pronouncement, the dog was head and shoulders taller then the goblin itself and was very muscled for an undead hound. The teeth were long and vicious looking, like so many of the dogs other attributes. “Twenty-five gold is all that thing is worth, its likely to bite our faces off as well as any intruder.” The calm goblin said, not nearing the hellhound like his companion.

“A hundred is a fair price, it does come with the collar after all, and no doubt in your mind should linger about how the dog will treat strangers.” Her bartering was less extreme than with the Apothecary, since the price was starting off so much lower.

“Fifty?” The excited goblin chimed in.

Aideyn chuckled inwardly, Laverna smiled on her this week. Outwardly, Lamia sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I’ll have to take the mutt elsewhere. Good day to you.” She bowed, then preceded to shoo the dog back into the box.

“Seventy-five!” The excited goblin scrambled to stop the elf from shutting the crate, before looking back sheepishly at its companion. “Please?” The calm goblin crossed their arms, looking angry. “Fine, but that’s as high as we offer elf. Take it or leave it.”

Lamia appeared to be considering the price, but Aideyn cheered, victory welling up in her chest, now if she could get more then twenty-five gold for the rest of Vrek’s belongings she’d be well above the debt to Krelle, and she could pocket some of it, besides her twenty percent that she was due. ‘Lamia’ smiled and nodded. “Well, alright, but only because you sound so interested.” She smiled at the younger one, whom clapped his hands together again.

The money and remote changed hands and Lamia saluted the young goblin whom was holding the remote in one hand and trying to mount the evil dog with the other. “Don’t bite me, else I’ll use this on ya!” The goblin was saying as the door clicked into place.

The box Lamia had left in the room was wheezing now, coughing and groaning. “Hush up.” She kicked the box again and sprinkled some slumber dust in the cracks. Vrek promptly passed out.

Step Four: Delivering the Goods and Exceeding Expectations
The delivery had gone well, Faranell had sewn the blade smith’s mouth shut soon after receiving him into a squished cage, and Desmona had received her payment and had then been shoo-ed off. Aideyn wondered why this was, secrecy perhaps? When she then saw Lady Sylvanas enter from the opposite door, three apothecaries leading her into the chamber with much bowing and simpering.

Desmona chuckled, walking out with a smirk on her face. Not wanting to share the glory of a interesting proposition. She had no doubt that Vrek Bladesmith would be dead within the next few months, and that would mean that Krelle and herself wouldn’t have an enemy lurking in the shadows. If he wasn’t dead in the next few months… well then she’d have to take care of that herself.

Four hundred and seventy five gold she had made, nearly the amount that Vrek had owed Krelle, and there was still the matter of his worldy possessions. Desmona mounted Laverna and started off towards the War Quarter. Greggory would have gotten the shipment in while she had been in the Bay and should have had plenty of time to peruse the stuff and know its worth. This blade smith was trustworthy to a point, but she had cataloged everything she had packed and shipped off just to make sure nothing would disappear between her trip to Booty Bay and the Apothicarium to deliver Vrek.

He greeted her cheerfully, despite the fact he knew that Desmona was no friendly bird. “Heyo! I just got finished price checking all the pieces and scraps you sent in. Good work, fine workmanship, reminds me of the work V-.” Her look cut him off. “Well, anyways, I imagine I can give you fifty gold for the lot.” His smile was cheerful, and Aideyn chuckled despite herself.

“I didn’t come down with the last rainfall, how much is it really worth Greggory?” She leaned forward on her mount giving him the eye a parent might if they knew their child was holding out on them. The forsaken sighed, his shoulders drooping.

“Yus ma’am, its worth around seventy-five gold.” He looked so despondent that Aideyn had to fight to keep herself in character. This forsaken was too cheerful for her, Desmona had been a character built to deal with the sneaky, the mean, cruel and woebegone members of the Undercity.

She held out a gloved hand and was given a pouch that tinkled with coin. “My thanks for your business young Greggory.” Desmona counted out the coins to be sure she had seventy-five present and accounted for. That finished she turned her mare around and started off in the direction of the upper tiers and the flight master.

“Oi, Ladee Desmona.” Greggory stopped her with a raised voice and outstretched hand. “Is he..?” Desmona smirked and let her silence leave him to draw his own conclusions as she kneed Laverna into a steady trot.

The bag she had stuffed full of his personal belongings, pipes, tools, clothing and such went to a general vendor without much haggling or hassle for twenty five gold. And Aideyn allowed herself to stretch her arms out and feel the wind rushing past her as her bat flew over Tirisfal Glades and into Silverpine Forest.

Step Five: House Staging and Quick Returns on Investment
‘Desmona’, sans horns and sneering face, cleaned up the small shack as best she could. Despite the fact she imagined it would be rented out by a forsaken who would care about as much as Vrek had how the place looked like, she felt the need to clean up the cobwebs and the windows and spruce the place up a bit. What it lacked in size it made up for in privacy, and access to a forge so close.

Tinks again sat on the mantle and pawed at a loose stone. Aideyn cleaned and chased the shadows and dirt away as she reclaimed the house. Perhaps she would just stay here… and forget about renting it out for anything. Her thoughts were disturbed by Tinks soft scratching at the stone hearth.

“What is it you’ve got little one?” She walked over to Tinks, whom she still needed to buy that oil for, and moved the heavy stone the squirrel kept pawing at. It fell out of the mortar with ease into her hand, revealing a tightly wound scroll that was pulsing blue and a small bag of messah. It was easily identifiable as soon as she opened the drawstring. Well these would make interesting gifts for her employer that’s for sure. She wondered briefly if Krelle used messah at all? And if she would be interested in the name of the dealer she’d uncovered.

Aideyn shrugged and placed the items in her bag, patting Tinks and praising her once more before looking for any other stashes. There were none, but the blood elf rogue doubled checked.

Five gold had gone into making the place looked hospitable. What a difference it had made. She had only cleaned, and added curtains, bedding and chair cushions and a table cloth and the whole place looked a lot cozier.

The rogue settled down in the chair, twirling a bit of her hair, and wondering if she should keep the place when a knock came on the door. Standing up, she hitched a sheathed dagger on her belt, incase it was someone friendly with Vrek who had noticed his strange disappearance. She needn’t have worried, the asshole smith would most likely have no one questioning their good fortune to find him gone and his terrorist mutt too.

Before her stood a small little forsaken couple. They were a bit wild eyed when they saw her, but she could tell by their garments and appearance that they were newly risen or at least new to break their grasp from the Lich King. She smiled at them, not wanting to play the part of evil warlock when perhaps they had come to rent the home.

“Ma’am, um, we were looking, the missus and I..” The man, whom looked like he had been a blacksmith in life shifted his weight awkwardly. The woman behind him tried a smile and spoke up, her voice raspy. “We were looking to rent this house ma’am.”

Aideyn smiled and led them in, and the woman clapped her hands in delight. “Lovely! Ernest, please?!” The forsaken was hugged by his enthusiastic wife. He spoke to her in hushed tones of Gutterspeak, and Aideyn could tell their only worry was the price.

Aideyn slipped in and mentioned the forge just behind the house, and the fact that the town’s smith had moved away so they were quite without a reliable repair main for blades, axes and maces. That settled the man, and he placed the down payment of twenty gold in her hands. “It’ll be fifty-five gold a month, and the rent should be sent to Grey Tiger Shipping and Freight in Booty Bay.” The little couple thanked her and after getting her packs Aideyn exited the door with a jovial wave and a soft chuckle.

Five gold had been a good investment in the future of that home. And now the town would have a reliable smith who wouldn’t be looking for a fix every couple of days. The rogue nodded to herself, pleased, this had been a very good week. Now all she had to do was find Krelle and hope that the forsaken hadn’t been expecting her to be finished three days ago.

She settled her horns back into place before flying to the Undercity again, Tinks chittering on her shoulder the whole way, reminding the rogue, with her own recorded voice, that she was due for a nut and oil on her hinges. Aideyn giggled and decided she’d pick that up on her way to Booty Bay, and told the impatient creature so.