After about a year of accumulating four coppers per rat body and eating Deeprun Rat Kabobs, I was approached by someone from the Stormwind Intelligence Service, known as SI:7.
When I was not on the streets of Old Town and other parts of Stormwind I spent time at the shop The Five Deadly Venoms, owned and operated by my friend and mentor Miles Sidney. He had taught me how to brew poisons and venoms, with the understanding that I would not enter into competition with him, but a fellow who was an exterminator needed to have a profound knowledge of poisons and venoms, if only so as to not poison himself. I would make us tea, and Miles would conduct an informal class for me on the finer aspects of his art and equipment.
One of his other customers would come by a woman with short red hair named Sloan McCoy. From things she let slip, I gathered that she was a colleague of sorts with Miles; rather than buy finished poisons, Miles would sell her the herbs from which he distilled his wares.
When I asked Miles about it, he swiftly changed the subject. I let the matter drop... for the time being.
When next Miss McCoy decided to visit, I followed her back to the edifice that was the home to SI:7. Run by Mattias Shaw, the organization had been founded by his mother Pathonia Shaw. She had organized the guild known as the Stormwind Assassins, but she was also fiercely patriotic and during the Second War the Stormwind Assassins had hunted Horde scouts. Realizing that the Stormwind military had certain... limitations, Madame Shaw and her organization filled that gap, becoming the "dirty tricks" division of the Stormwind crown - spying, assassinating, running covert, secret operations that were deemed necessary.
It made sense for the SI:7 to employ their own poisons expert. It was likely that Sloan McCoy worked for SI:7, and Miles, being a loyal patriot (and since SI:7 was not in competition with him), had no qualms about supplying McCoy with various herbs and supplies.
I assume that McCoy informed SI:7 of my existence.
I was visiting the Lion's Pride Inn in Goldshire; the owner, a guy named Fredrik Farley, had a bit of a rat infestation and had hired me to do a discreet cleansing of their site of rodents. I went down into the basement and began my particular brand of "housekeeping" - which in this case had to do more with setting some traps and spiking the grounds with poisoned morsels of cheese. This particular poison made the rats ravenously thirsty, and so they were drawn to the lakeside nearby and perished while trying to parch the never-ending thirst.
Murlocs need to eat, too, after all, and the ambiance of the inn would hardly be enhanced by the scent of dead rats in the walls and ceiling niches.
In any case, I was finishing up when Farley's rather winsome daughter Anna came to me and told me one of their guests would like to see me. Anticipating more work, I went upstairs to the indicated room and knocked on the door.
The door was opened by a woman in a leather jerkin. She had short brown hair, and a body that reminded me of a steel rapier blade; strong but slender. "Well, well... look what the cat has dragged in... Jon Ratkiller, isn't it? Please, come in." She stepped back and ushered me into her room.
"Yes ma'am, that's me," I admitted. "What can I do for you?"
"I understand you know Old Town pretty well, yes?"
"Somewhat, yeah."
"I need a package delivered, and I need someone who knows where the Barracks are," she said, indicating the building the SI:7 organization used as a front. She handed me a wrapped parcel. "Take this to Matthias Shaw; I'd take it myself, but I've been assigned a job and I've made a promise to deliver on that job." She looked me up and down and smiled. "By the looks of you, I'd say Mathias is likely to mistake you for the cheese delivery boy, " She didn't know how prophetic that speculation would prove to be. "but beggars can't be choosers. Be quick about it and Shaw may have another job or two for you."
I took the package - I had to go back to Old Town anyway, so it's not like the trip would take me out of my way, and I had no doubt that Shaw's tip would spend as well as anyone else's copper. I collected from Farley, and headed back to Stormwind.
When I got to the Barracks, I was met by a snarly little shit of a goblin named Renzak the Shiv; he was known as an artist with the stiletto, and not someone to turn your back upon. "You want to see Shaw?" He had a voice of deep gravel, but he almost managed to keep the sneer out. Almost.
"Yes, I have a package to deliver to him," I replied.
"Give it here, I'll deliver it." Now the sneer was fully out.
"My instructions were to give the package to Shaw, not his Social Secretary," I said, exchanging my sarcasm for his sneer.
"Yeah, is that so?" Renzak smiled, exposing a nasty set of yellowing dentation, sharpened like a troll's. From nowhere a stiletto appeared, and he began to clean his nails with the point.
"It is - I do the job I'm paid for, no more and no less," I said, keeping my voice solid and firm, even though I had a healthy respect for his knife and his no-doubt well-deserved reputation with it. I kept my own hands clear of my own dagger, but I centered my weight and crouched slightly. If things turned violent, I wanted to be able to move, and move swiftly!
"Fair enough, I suppose..." he said. "He's upstairs, and waiting for you, as it turns out..." Renzak laughed, and just as swiftly as the knife had appeared, it vanished.
Master Mathias Shaw surprised me by being a young man, maybe ten years older than me. I didn't know it at the time, but his mother had raised him with an eye to him taking over the "family business". he stood about five foot ten inches and had a short hair the color of burnished copper, and a short van dyke beard on his chin. He accepted the delivery of the package, exchanging it for a small purse of coin, asking "So... Jon Ratkeeper. I hear that you know your way around a knife, and are well-versed in the skills required to decant poisons and venoms. I... we... might have more work for you, if you are interested?"
I bowed politely to Shaw - the Orphanage Matron Shellene had trained me to be polite, especially when refusing offers.
"You do me great honor, milord, but I fear I must decline. I use my skills to remove vermin from the city we both serve."
My answer seemed to strike him as funny. "I use my skills to also remove vermin from Stormwind, although I speak of the kingdom, not just the city," he laughed. "Still, the door is open... as is the offer."
Dismissed, I returned to my small garret in the tenements near the Pig & Whistle Tavern, where I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the pouch contained silver and not copper. Whatever his other faults, Shaw paid well.
About a week later, I was visiting Trias' Cheese in the Trade district; the bait used in Goldshire had exhausted my supply. When I entered, Ben Trias was behind the counter, and he called out "Hey Da, Jon Ratkiller is here."
Down the stairs came the owner and proprietor of Trias' Cheese, Elling Trias. he was a tall, well-muscled man. somewhere past twoscore years - but not too far beyond them. He descended with an unconscious grace as if he was a human incarnation of the Stormwind lion. His hair was still as black as coal, and his beard and mustache neatly trimmed. He was missing his right eye, but his black leather eyepatch lent him dignity and gravity.
"Master Ratkiller, I would like a word with you in private, if I may?" he said, smiling. He led me to his office upstairs, where he opened a bottle of Dalaran Noir, pouring us each a goblet, and put a platter of sliced cheeses on his desk between us. "Please, Jon - may I call you Jon? - help yourself. I hope that you are enjoying the fine day, and that it finds you in good health?"
I helped myself to both the wine and the cheese. "Well enough, Master Trias, all things considered."
"Good, good... I hear good things about you, Jon. That you are most skilled with the applications of poisons and venoms, that you give good value to your contracts, and that you prefer to hunt rats rather than poison them, using throwing knives? Are you quite bloodthirsty, then?"
I blushed I had never gotten around to returning the brace of throwing knives I'd "borrowed" from the armory of the paladins of the Cathedral.
"When I hunt rats, if I use the knives I do not spoil the meat," I explained. "As the city-wide bounty is only for the tail, I supplement my income by selling the meat to the Deepwater Tram gnomes for their rat kabobs."
"Enterprising... very enterprising, young sir. I am also told by my friend Baros that you were the one who aproached the city offices about providing the bounty on rats, to help clean up the Old Town? He also told me that you asked that the bounty be a open bounty, and not restricted to yourself?"
"Well, there are many others to whom a dozen coppers a week might make the difference between living and dying... I don't mind sharing my good fortune." I said.
"What if I were to suggest to Baros that he award you an exclusive contract, and then you could pay the others to collect the rats for you, allowing you to increase your profit greatly. You could pay them, say... five rats per copper, and turn a handsome profit not only on the bounty but also on the carcasses as well. You would be well on your way to becoming rich!" suggested Trias.
"I would... prefer you did not, Master Trias. My fellow street rats need the money more than I, and I suspect that so many rat bodies would quite exceed the demand for rat kabobs."
Trias chuckled. "That there is any market for rat kabobs I find amazing all by itself. Still... what if I were to offer you a job working for me? I assure you, I would pay you more than the hunting of rats."
"What would I do? Work with Ben in the shop?" I asked, curious.
"Not precisely... young man, I want to expand. There are many kinds of cheese around the Eastern Kingdoms and Kalimdor, and many potential customers, if only I could reach them. What I would want you to do is act as my agent - taking orders, arranging delivery of cheeses from cheese makes, delivering orders of cheese... you would travel often, and be away from Stormwind much of the time. I would pay you a base fee for your labor, plus your travel expenses, in addition to giving you a modest sales commission for the customers you sign. There would be some training involved, naturally - your knowledge of cheeses, and how the might be best offered to customers, would have to expand, but your reputation for honesty commends you, and I am satisfied that you could grow to fill the role."
I accepted his offer and moved into a spare room in the Trias household that night. My ratkilling business I turned over to my fellow street rats, who were grateful to learn about the Deepwater Tram connections. I spent months working in the shop, studying cheese pairings with various wines. I studied the alchemy of the making of cheese. I was loaned out to the Gallina Winery, and learned about what wines and other spirits went well with what cheese. When next I visited the Lion's Pride, it was not as a vermin exterminator, but as Master Trias' agent, making deliveries and taking orders.
It was not long before I was making the local circuit - Goldshire, then Lakeshire, then Darkshire, then Sentinel Hill. I had become an Agent of Cheese!
One of his other customers would come by a woman with short red hair named Sloan McCoy. From things she let slip, I gathered that she was a colleague of sorts with Miles; rather than buy finished poisons, Miles would sell her the herbs from which he distilled his wares.
When I asked Miles about it, he swiftly changed the subject. I let the matter drop... for the time being.
When next Miss McCoy decided to visit, I followed her back to the edifice that was the home to SI:7. Run by Mattias Shaw, the organization had been founded by his mother Pathonia Shaw. She had organized the guild known as the Stormwind Assassins, but she was also fiercely patriotic and during the Second War the Stormwind Assassins had hunted Horde scouts. Realizing that the Stormwind military had certain... limitations, Madame Shaw and her organization filled that gap, becoming the "dirty tricks" division of the Stormwind crown - spying, assassinating, running covert, secret operations that were deemed necessary.
It made sense for the SI:7 to employ their own poisons expert. It was likely that Sloan McCoy worked for SI:7, and Miles, being a loyal patriot (and since SI:7 was not in competition with him), had no qualms about supplying McCoy with various herbs and supplies.
I assume that McCoy informed SI:7 of my existence.
I was visiting the Lion's Pride Inn in Goldshire; the owner, a guy named Fredrik Farley, had a bit of a rat infestation and had hired me to do a discreet cleansing of their site of rodents. I went down into the basement and began my particular brand of "housekeeping" - which in this case had to do more with setting some traps and spiking the grounds with poisoned morsels of cheese. This particular poison made the rats ravenously thirsty, and so they were drawn to the lakeside nearby and perished while trying to parch the never-ending thirst.
Murlocs need to eat, too, after all, and the ambiance of the inn would hardly be enhanced by the scent of dead rats in the walls and ceiling niches.
In any case, I was finishing up when Farley's rather winsome daughter Anna came to me and told me one of their guests would like to see me. Anticipating more work, I went upstairs to the indicated room and knocked on the door.
The door was opened by a woman in a leather jerkin. She had short brown hair, and a body that reminded me of a steel rapier blade; strong but slender. "Well, well... look what the cat has dragged in... Jon Ratkiller, isn't it? Please, come in." She stepped back and ushered me into her room.
"Yes ma'am, that's me," I admitted. "What can I do for you?"
"I understand you know Old Town pretty well, yes?"
"Somewhat, yeah."
"I need a package delivered, and I need someone who knows where the Barracks are," she said, indicating the building the SI:7 organization used as a front. She handed me a wrapped parcel. "Take this to Matthias Shaw; I'd take it myself, but I've been assigned a job and I've made a promise to deliver on that job." She looked me up and down and smiled. "By the looks of you, I'd say Mathias is likely to mistake you for the cheese delivery boy, " She didn't know how prophetic that speculation would prove to be. "but beggars can't be choosers. Be quick about it and Shaw may have another job or two for you."
I took the package - I had to go back to Old Town anyway, so it's not like the trip would take me out of my way, and I had no doubt that Shaw's tip would spend as well as anyone else's copper. I collected from Farley, and headed back to Stormwind.
When I got to the Barracks, I was met by a snarly little shit of a goblin named Renzak the Shiv; he was known as an artist with the stiletto, and not someone to turn your back upon. "You want to see Shaw?" He had a voice of deep gravel, but he almost managed to keep the sneer out. Almost.
"Yes, I have a package to deliver to him," I replied.
"Give it here, I'll deliver it." Now the sneer was fully out.
"My instructions were to give the package to Shaw, not his Social Secretary," I said, exchanging my sarcasm for his sneer.
"Yeah, is that so?" Renzak smiled, exposing a nasty set of yellowing dentation, sharpened like a troll's. From nowhere a stiletto appeared, and he began to clean his nails with the point.
"It is - I do the job I'm paid for, no more and no less," I said, keeping my voice solid and firm, even though I had a healthy respect for his knife and his no-doubt well-deserved reputation with it. I kept my own hands clear of my own dagger, but I centered my weight and crouched slightly. If things turned violent, I wanted to be able to move, and move swiftly!
"Fair enough, I suppose..." he said. "He's upstairs, and waiting for you, as it turns out..." Renzak laughed, and just as swiftly as the knife had appeared, it vanished.
Master Mathias Shaw surprised me by being a young man, maybe ten years older than me. I didn't know it at the time, but his mother had raised him with an eye to him taking over the "family business". he stood about five foot ten inches and had a short hair the color of burnished copper, and a short van dyke beard on his chin. He accepted the delivery of the package, exchanging it for a small purse of coin, asking "So... Jon Ratkeeper. I hear that you know your way around a knife, and are well-versed in the skills required to decant poisons and venoms. I... we... might have more work for you, if you are interested?"
I bowed politely to Shaw - the Orphanage Matron Shellene had trained me to be polite, especially when refusing offers.
"You do me great honor, milord, but I fear I must decline. I use my skills to remove vermin from the city we both serve."
My answer seemed to strike him as funny. "I use my skills to also remove vermin from Stormwind, although I speak of the kingdom, not just the city," he laughed. "Still, the door is open... as is the offer."
Dismissed, I returned to my small garret in the tenements near the Pig & Whistle Tavern, where I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the pouch contained silver and not copper. Whatever his other faults, Shaw paid well.
About a week later, I was visiting Trias' Cheese in the Trade district; the bait used in Goldshire had exhausted my supply. When I entered, Ben Trias was behind the counter, and he called out "Hey Da, Jon Ratkiller is here."
Down the stairs came the owner and proprietor of Trias' Cheese, Elling Trias. he was a tall, well-muscled man. somewhere past twoscore years - but not too far beyond them. He descended with an unconscious grace as if he was a human incarnation of the Stormwind lion. His hair was still as black as coal, and his beard and mustache neatly trimmed. He was missing his right eye, but his black leather eyepatch lent him dignity and gravity.
"Master Ratkiller, I would like a word with you in private, if I may?" he said, smiling. He led me to his office upstairs, where he opened a bottle of Dalaran Noir, pouring us each a goblet, and put a platter of sliced cheeses on his desk between us. "Please, Jon - may I call you Jon? - help yourself. I hope that you are enjoying the fine day, and that it finds you in good health?"
I helped myself to both the wine and the cheese. "Well enough, Master Trias, all things considered."
"Good, good... I hear good things about you, Jon. That you are most skilled with the applications of poisons and venoms, that you give good value to your contracts, and that you prefer to hunt rats rather than poison them, using throwing knives? Are you quite bloodthirsty, then?"
I blushed I had never gotten around to returning the brace of throwing knives I'd "borrowed" from the armory of the paladins of the Cathedral.
"When I hunt rats, if I use the knives I do not spoil the meat," I explained. "As the city-wide bounty is only for the tail, I supplement my income by selling the meat to the Deepwater Tram gnomes for their rat kabobs."
"Enterprising... very enterprising, young sir. I am also told by my friend Baros that you were the one who aproached the city offices about providing the bounty on rats, to help clean up the Old Town? He also told me that you asked that the bounty be a open bounty, and not restricted to yourself?"
"Well, there are many others to whom a dozen coppers a week might make the difference between living and dying... I don't mind sharing my good fortune." I said.
"What if I were to suggest to Baros that he award you an exclusive contract, and then you could pay the others to collect the rats for you, allowing you to increase your profit greatly. You could pay them, say... five rats per copper, and turn a handsome profit not only on the bounty but also on the carcasses as well. You would be well on your way to becoming rich!" suggested Trias.
"I would... prefer you did not, Master Trias. My fellow street rats need the money more than I, and I suspect that so many rat bodies would quite exceed the demand for rat kabobs."
Trias chuckled. "That there is any market for rat kabobs I find amazing all by itself. Still... what if I were to offer you a job working for me? I assure you, I would pay you more than the hunting of rats."
"What would I do? Work with Ben in the shop?" I asked, curious.
"Not precisely... young man, I want to expand. There are many kinds of cheese around the Eastern Kingdoms and Kalimdor, and many potential customers, if only I could reach them. What I would want you to do is act as my agent - taking orders, arranging delivery of cheeses from cheese makes, delivering orders of cheese... you would travel often, and be away from Stormwind much of the time. I would pay you a base fee for your labor, plus your travel expenses, in addition to giving you a modest sales commission for the customers you sign. There would be some training involved, naturally - your knowledge of cheeses, and how the might be best offered to customers, would have to expand, but your reputation for honesty commends you, and I am satisfied that you could grow to fill the role."
I accepted his offer and moved into a spare room in the Trias household that night. My ratkilling business I turned over to my fellow street rats, who were grateful to learn about the Deepwater Tram connections. I spent months working in the shop, studying cheese pairings with various wines. I studied the alchemy of the making of cheese. I was loaned out to the Gallina Winery, and learned about what wines and other spirits went well with what cheese. When next I visited the Lion's Pride, it was not as a vermin exterminator, but as Master Trias' agent, making deliveries and taking orders.
It was not long before I was making the local circuit - Goldshire, then Lakeshire, then Darkshire, then Sentinel Hill. I had become an Agent of Cheese!
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