I had pondered the task set before me by Farhad, the head of the Ravendholdt League of Assassins.
He had insisted that I prove my worthiness to the other students and members - ll of which had earned their positions on merit alone - by stealing a score of Syndicate emblems. I doubted the truth of that - I am sure that the usual graft, corruption, favoritism, and nepotism that affected all sentients of Azeroth was well-represented in this little microcosm, but the main point - that some would resent my becoming a student because of the patronage of my employer Elling Trias, once the spymaster of the kingdom of Stormwind and now the Master of Cheese in his retirement from what some called "The Great Game", would engender some resentment - perhaps in fatal amounts - was valid. If I wanted to become accepted as one of them, I would need to prove my worth.
My problem was that Fahrad had wanted me to steal the emblems but leave my victims alive. When the victims reported that their emblems had been taken from them, the Syndicate would discipline them, probably by execution, as an object lesson. I understood the distinction in that the Syndicate having to kill their own would demoralize the remainder, especially in such large amounts. but the fact remained that I was not a thief; perhaps I would be, after my training at Ravenholdt, but I was a glorified Stormwind street rat who had come to the attention of SI:7 and Elling Trias as a rat exterminator with talent with a knife and for moving quietly, unseen. I was a sneaky bastard, yes - but I broke locks, not open them with a picklock. I didn't have a clue how to pick their pockets.
I had killed hundreds of rats. I had destroyed undead in Darkshire, gnolls in Lakeshire, and Defias bandits in Westfall. This was not a simple matter of throat-cutting and killing, at which I was reasonably skilled - this required finesse.
I had no idea how to proceed.
I attended the morning session with Master Kang at the fighting arena. Since it was my first session, Master Kang had decided to make an appraisal of my combat skills. For several hours he had advanced students test my ability in unarmed combat - or lack thereof. After the third time I had been knocked out and revived with a bucket of cold water, we moved on to test my swordsmanship, which was equally lacking; all I knew about a sword was that the pointy end went into one's enemy.
We ascertained that I was hopeless with both bow and crossbow.
My knife-fighting skills were less of a disgrace, as that was my preferred method of open combat. However, it was my skill with throwing spikes that made him smile.
"Good," I heard him say as I skewered stationary targets, moving targets, flying targets, and precision targets with unerring accuracy.
"Good, Master Kang?" I said, with a grin.
"For a human, good - for an Orc, I would call it 'marginally adequate'," he grumbled good-naturedly. "But you were not born with green skin, so I suppose that is not entirely your fault. Still, your throwing skills show promise. Where did you learn to throw?"
"I learned in the back-alleys of Stormwind - I had to hit rats on the run or I didn't eat," I confessed.
After the combat session, I was shown the lake where we bathed - somewhat of a necessity after a workout with Master Kang.
"Always bathe, Chess... many creatures have sensitive nostrils, and if you do not bathe they will find you unerringly. Clean and scentless, whenever possible," Master Kang advised. What he said made sense, even if I could not quite look forward to the frigid lake waters every morning.
Clean and shivering somewhat, I attended an afternoon tutoring session with the poisons instructor, a dwarf named Smudge Thunderwood. As had Master Kang, Thunderwood quizzed me about my knowledge of herbs and compounds, and how both poisons (which were ingested by the victims) and venoms (which were applied to a dart, knife, or another implement for delivery to the victim).
"Jon, ye hae a goodly store of knowledge for venoms that kill, but there are other uses for venoms - and poisons too, come to thae - besides killing. Some venoms kill, aye... but some just slow the victim, so he cannae run and becomes easier to capture. Some cloud thae mind, affecting a warlock or mage in the casting of spells. Some just put the victim to sleep, and do nae kill. There are even some, created with Shadow magic, that will drain the life energy of thae victim and send it to thae attacker, restoring his own vitality. Ye hae made a good beginning, aye - but ye still have much to learn!" said Thunderwood. "Leave the rats to Salome - ye will be hunting larger, two-legged vermin!"
The blood elf who taught stealth told me "You move like a pregnant kodo - and you smell almost as bad. You must unlearn all your bad habits and learn to walk properly. If you do not walk properly, you will not stand properly, and if you cannot stand properly, you cannot move unseen properly."
If I had thought I was reasonably adept, the instructors of Ravenholdt left me no such illusions.
Still, they had given me an idea. I consulted with Thunderwood, and sought out the Lady of the Garden, the Kaldorei Simone Cantrel. She was able to supply me with what I needed.
He had insisted that I prove my worthiness to the other students and members - ll of which had earned their positions on merit alone - by stealing a score of Syndicate emblems. I doubted the truth of that - I am sure that the usual graft, corruption, favoritism, and nepotism that affected all sentients of Azeroth was well-represented in this little microcosm, but the main point - that some would resent my becoming a student because of the patronage of my employer Elling Trias, once the spymaster of the kingdom of Stormwind and now the Master of Cheese in his retirement from what some called "The Great Game", would engender some resentment - perhaps in fatal amounts - was valid. If I wanted to become accepted as one of them, I would need to prove my worth.
My problem was that Fahrad had wanted me to steal the emblems but leave my victims alive. When the victims reported that their emblems had been taken from them, the Syndicate would discipline them, probably by execution, as an object lesson. I understood the distinction in that the Syndicate having to kill their own would demoralize the remainder, especially in such large amounts. but the fact remained that I was not a thief; perhaps I would be, after my training at Ravenholdt, but I was a glorified Stormwind street rat who had come to the attention of SI:7 and Elling Trias as a rat exterminator with talent with a knife and for moving quietly, unseen. I was a sneaky bastard, yes - but I broke locks, not open them with a picklock. I didn't have a clue how to pick their pockets.
I had killed hundreds of rats. I had destroyed undead in Darkshire, gnolls in Lakeshire, and Defias bandits in Westfall. This was not a simple matter of throat-cutting and killing, at which I was reasonably skilled - this required finesse.
I had no idea how to proceed.
I attended the morning session with Master Kang at the fighting arena. Since it was my first session, Master Kang had decided to make an appraisal of my combat skills. For several hours he had advanced students test my ability in unarmed combat - or lack thereof. After the third time I had been knocked out and revived with a bucket of cold water, we moved on to test my swordsmanship, which was equally lacking; all I knew about a sword was that the pointy end went into one's enemy.
We ascertained that I was hopeless with both bow and crossbow.
My knife-fighting skills were less of a disgrace, as that was my preferred method of open combat. However, it was my skill with throwing spikes that made him smile.
"Good," I heard him say as I skewered stationary targets, moving targets, flying targets, and precision targets with unerring accuracy.
"Good, Master Kang?" I said, with a grin.
"For a human, good - for an Orc, I would call it 'marginally adequate'," he grumbled good-naturedly. "But you were not born with green skin, so I suppose that is not entirely your fault. Still, your throwing skills show promise. Where did you learn to throw?"
"I learned in the back-alleys of Stormwind - I had to hit rats on the run or I didn't eat," I confessed.
After the combat session, I was shown the lake where we bathed - somewhat of a necessity after a workout with Master Kang.
"Always bathe, Chess... many creatures have sensitive nostrils, and if you do not bathe they will find you unerringly. Clean and scentless, whenever possible," Master Kang advised. What he said made sense, even if I could not quite look forward to the frigid lake waters every morning.
Clean and shivering somewhat, I attended an afternoon tutoring session with the poisons instructor, a dwarf named Smudge Thunderwood. As had Master Kang, Thunderwood quizzed me about my knowledge of herbs and compounds, and how both poisons (which were ingested by the victims) and venoms (which were applied to a dart, knife, or another implement for delivery to the victim).
"Jon, ye hae a goodly store of knowledge for venoms that kill, but there are other uses for venoms - and poisons too, come to thae - besides killing. Some venoms kill, aye... but some just slow the victim, so he cannae run and becomes easier to capture. Some cloud thae mind, affecting a warlock or mage in the casting of spells. Some just put the victim to sleep, and do nae kill. There are even some, created with Shadow magic, that will drain the life energy of thae victim and send it to thae attacker, restoring his own vitality. Ye hae made a good beginning, aye - but ye still have much to learn!" said Thunderwood. "Leave the rats to Salome - ye will be hunting larger, two-legged vermin!"
The blood elf who taught stealth told me "You move like a pregnant kodo - and you smell almost as bad. You must unlearn all your bad habits and learn to walk properly. If you do not walk properly, you will not stand properly, and if you cannot stand properly, you cannot move unseen properly."
If I had thought I was reasonably adept, the instructors of Ravenholdt left me no such illusions.
Still, they had given me an idea. I consulted with Thunderwood, and sought out the Lady of the Garden, the Kaldorei Simone Cantrel. She was able to supply me with what I needed.
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