Post by Flimtwizzle the Black on May 15, 2007 6:03:46 GMT -5
Jim Boondock shifted his weight in his uncomfortable seat. Once again he cursed his mother for suggesting that he become a spy for SI:7. It had seemed so glamourous a job when he heard about it, with cocktail parties, tuxedos and scantily dressed women as far as the eye could see. He’d soon found out the opposite, though. Apparently it was common practice in SI:7 to make the new guy do all the unwanted work, such as administration, getting coffee, administration, anything that involved a sewer and more administration.
It had gotten so far that he considered himself lucky to be in the Western Plaguelands, perched in a tree overlooking a dead crop field. His mission today was to keep an eye on one of the many persons in SI:7’s “what-if”-list. This list contained everyone that didn’t pose a threat to national security at the time, but could become a problem later. His target today was one Flimtwizzle Niveus, a bald Gnome with a full black beard that seemed to enjoy wearing purple a bit -too- much and entertained thoughts of global domination. Most of his plans so far had failed rather miserably, but after his recent acquisition of his very own guild SI:7 was paying close attention to him.
Boondock squinted a bit to better see what was going on in the field. Flimtwizzle seemed to be meeting some Blood Elf. The Elf was hard to identify due to the dark aura that surrounded him, making him appear to be no more than a three-dimensional shadow. They met right in the middle of the field, which meant that Boondock couldn’t get any closer without revealing his presence. He quietly cursed himself for forgetting to bring his Gnomish Auditory Amplification Device. If he’d only brought it he would’ve been able to hear what they were talking about, but now he could only watch.
Flimtwizzle seemed to act rather friendly with the Elf. This was strange because he usually didn’t act friendly to anyone. The two acted familiar, like old friends even. Boondock made a mental note to try and find out about any Blood Elf contacts the Gnome might have. The two spoke for a while. Their body language seemed to suggest they were negotiating something. After some time they apparently reached an understanding and Flimtwizzle pulled a file out of his, apparently very large, pocket. Boondock was momentarily shocked to see the SI:7 logo printed on the front of the file. The Gnome handed the file to his Blood Elven acquantance and held out his hand as if to shake the Elf’s hand. The Elf ignored this gesture. The two said their goodbyes and soon both of their hands were glowing with the familiar light of a Hearthstone being activated.
Jim Boondock quickly made some notes in his little spies’ notepad, jumped out of the tree and headed for Chillwind Camp. As he jumped onto a gryphon and directed it toward Stormwind, he congratulated himself.
“I’ll get a promotion for this, for sure!”
It had gotten so far that he considered himself lucky to be in the Western Plaguelands, perched in a tree overlooking a dead crop field. His mission today was to keep an eye on one of the many persons in SI:7’s “what-if”-list. This list contained everyone that didn’t pose a threat to national security at the time, but could become a problem later. His target today was one Flimtwizzle Niveus, a bald Gnome with a full black beard that seemed to enjoy wearing purple a bit -too- much and entertained thoughts of global domination. Most of his plans so far had failed rather miserably, but after his recent acquisition of his very own guild SI:7 was paying close attention to him.
Boondock squinted a bit to better see what was going on in the field. Flimtwizzle seemed to be meeting some Blood Elf. The Elf was hard to identify due to the dark aura that surrounded him, making him appear to be no more than a three-dimensional shadow. They met right in the middle of the field, which meant that Boondock couldn’t get any closer without revealing his presence. He quietly cursed himself for forgetting to bring his Gnomish Auditory Amplification Device. If he’d only brought it he would’ve been able to hear what they were talking about, but now he could only watch.
Flimtwizzle seemed to act rather friendly with the Elf. This was strange because he usually didn’t act friendly to anyone. The two acted familiar, like old friends even. Boondock made a mental note to try and find out about any Blood Elf contacts the Gnome might have. The two spoke for a while. Their body language seemed to suggest they were negotiating something. After some time they apparently reached an understanding and Flimtwizzle pulled a file out of his, apparently very large, pocket. Boondock was momentarily shocked to see the SI:7 logo printed on the front of the file. The Gnome handed the file to his Blood Elven acquantance and held out his hand as if to shake the Elf’s hand. The Elf ignored this gesture. The two said their goodbyes and soon both of their hands were glowing with the familiar light of a Hearthstone being activated.
Jim Boondock quickly made some notes in his little spies’ notepad, jumped out of the tree and headed for Chillwind Camp. As he jumped onto a gryphon and directed it toward Stormwind, he congratulated himself.
“I’ll get a promotion for this, for sure!”
