Post by galvinoth on May 8, 2007 11:02:00 GMT -5
Spunkenflunk Tip-toed around a corner, crawled a staircase, and then silently slipped in the door at the top. He closed the door behind him and started walking down the stairs inside the house, reaching the ground level, and kneeling before the figure down here.
“Master, it is good to see you”
Flimtwizzle looked at Spunkenflunk, as nodded slowly. “Hello, Spunkenflunk. Have a seat.”
Spunkenflunk sat down on a chair, looking at Flimtwizzle with his attention solemnly focused on the gnome and his pointy hat.
“We have a problem, Spunkenflunk. As I’m sure even you managed to understand, Substance 28-B was not a success. In fact, I had assorted henchmen research it, and it appears to be nothing but water with a bit of Dreaming Glory mixed in it.”
“Noo! you always get cheated by that Foul Black Market!” Spunkenflunk exclaimed, and shook his fist at the air.
“It was. I’ve not seen one zombie-mindslave yet!”
“No, sir, no one ended up slightly retarded, either. It clearly didn’t work.”
“Well, I’ve seen some pretty stupid elves around, you know!”
“But that’s normal for the race, sir!”
“True, Spunk. True.”
Spunkenflunk remained silent, as Flimtwizzle didn’t speak for a short period of time, enjoying the dramatic effect. Flimtwizzle spoke again.
“Well, as you might remember, I said I’d pay that goblin those 2500 gold pieces back within a few months, right?”
“Aye, sir, I remember!”
“Of course, I thought he’d be a mindslave by the time, so I accepted! But now, he wants his money. And he appears to have some deliciously violent ogre brutes running around, which I think you experienced, right Spunk?”
Spunkenflunk nodded, curling his moustache around his finger.
“Yes, your cackly-ness! But they managed to attach my jaw again!” Spunkenflunk said.
Flimtwizzle smiled a smiley smile back; “Well, it almost looks natural, too!”
“Thank you, sir!” Spunkenflunk exclaimed.
Flimtwizzle returned to the topic: “Well, as a result of this, it looks like the Infernal Conquest… might go BANKRUPT! I recently got a new sending of invisible vampire-bats. They all got confiscated.”
Spunkenflunk looked sad. It was quite a pain to have your invisible vampire-bats confiscated, any serious villain knew that.
Flimtwizzle continued; “I’ve considered selling this secret lair, so I had a pawnbroker come look at it. But APPARENTLY, you cannot sell an apartment if you don’t own it!”
“What’s the world come to!” Spunk exclaimed, clearly offended of the mad statement of the pawnbroker.
“Indeed. I tried bribing him to let us sell it anyway, but apparently he didn’t have use for a box of fish…” Flimtwizzle nodded at the box in the corner. Spunkenflunk went over there, grabbed a trout and returned to the table.
“So after I killed the pawnbroker, I sat down and started thinking… and I found out, that what we need… is an evil plot!”
Spunkenflunk clapped. An evil plot was just what a villain needed.
“What did you come up with, master?” Spunkenflunk asked Flimtwizzle, still not concentrating on anything but listening to Flimtwizzle.
“Well, Spunk, I thought about running for President of Stormwind to raise funds, but then I remembered that The Big Book of Plotting disagrees with that kind of thing, so I decided that wouldn’t work”.
Spunkenflunk nodded.
“So, instead, I thought about sponsoring the conquest with money from brandishing commercials, but there’s no way a villain can get a sponsor, nowadays!”
“I hear Stormrage has advertisements for Belah’s Enchantments tattooed on his back now! Is that true, sir?”
“I’m afraid it is. That stupid elf-abomination, he also got the were-felsteeds when they were on sale! He always gets the best deals. If he wasn’t the most powerful being in Outland I’d -so- have him assassinated.”
Spunkenflunk cackled. Flimtwizzle continued:
“It’s a serious problem, Spunk! Look at poor Nalnar!” Flimtwizzle pointed at his imp, bouncing up and down. “He’s got 1250 mouths to feed! They all sit on his mother of a king-size demon, but still! That’s many mouths when you totally lack funds for terrorizing the population! We got a lack of funds, Spunkenflunk! If we just had an army that did not need to be paid!”
Spunkenflunk’s eyes lit up. He curled his moustache around his index finger, and cackled slightly when he uttered: “Army… no cash… The guild, master? Assume control of that… Talon-thing, and use –them- to do your bidding! Taelus should be easy to convince of handing power to you!”
“That’s a good idea, Spunkenflunk! I’m glad I thought of it! And Taelus has been off for a bit, so should be easy for me to just tell that elf she wanted me to take over”
“Indeed, master! I am happy to serve an entity as brilliant as you!”
Flimtwizzle nodded, obviously happy.
“Well, Spunkenflunk let us look in The Big Book of Plotting on how to do this!”
Flimtwizzle shoved the enormous book out from under the table, and after a bit of struggle managed to open it and look in the index.
“Right, Spunk, where to look?”
“Forge a letter, sir! Elves can’t read, and it’s that elf we’ll have to cheat!”
“Brilliant idea by me once again!”
Spunkenflunk nodded, as they worked together on turning the pages of the huge book.
“Spunkenflunk read it aloud.” Flimtwizzle ordered, as he went to lie on the bed.
“Ahem” Spunkenflunk cleared his throat, and looked at the pages of the huge book. He started to read with a clear voice:
“Big Book of Plotting, §121; Forging Books, Paintings, Letters, and Legal Documents.
For this act of crime, you are going to need several things before starting. First off, you will need a plot, important enough for you to be bothered with making a forgery to achieve your goal, as a forgery can be a long and tiring process.”
“Check, we got that. I love their step-by-step approach” Flimtwizzle mumbled from the bed, and kept on listening.
Spunkenflunk agreed. “Second off, you need a hand, as you will have trouble writing/painting the forgery otherwise. Do we have hands, sir?”
“Wha’?”
Flimtwizzle turned around. He had made his way to the box of fish, and was now standing with a fish in his left hand.
“Hands, master”
“Oh, right!” Flimtwizzle looked down his arm, and… “Oh, no! I lack a hand! There’s a fish instead!”
Flimtwizzle sounded quite panicked.
“Master, maybe the fish is covering your hand? Try to remove the fish!”
Flimtwizzle tossed the fish back into the box, and sighed with relieve.
“Hand; Check”
“Next off, you will need the ability to create a forgery. That means you shall be able to write with another person’s hand-writing.”
“Oh, dear. Can you do that, Spunk?”
“I am afraid not, master. I am incompetent, remember?”
“Oh, right… then let me… Wobble wobble wobble wobble…”
Flimtwizzle started to wiggle his fingers, while chanting what appeared to be pure gibberish.
“SCHWING! Check” Flimtwizzle exclaimed.
“Then, next, you need to make sure your lie is believable. There shall not be any positive outcome for you if your fraud is exposed.”
“Check. Taelus loves me, it seems realistic”
“Now, you might want some kind of proof (fake, of course) to help convince whoever you wish to cheat that your lie is not a lie”
Flimtwizzle looked around the room; “I KNOW!”
He pointed to the feather in the ink jar.
“That feather looks like the one Taelus has in that silly turban of hers. We’ll take that!”
“Excellent idea, master!”
“I know!”
Flimtwizzle went to the end of the room, and started placing a bunch of pins in a triangular shape. He then grabbed a cannonball next to him and walked to the other end of the room as Spunkenflunk kept on reading;
“Now, you are ready to produce your forgery, you just need to get hold of needed materials: Ink, paper, pen, and preferably some kind of cookies or the like to make time go past quicker”
Flimtwizzle rolled the cannon ball through the room towards the pins, and missed completely. He cheered wildly.
“Did you see that, Spunk? Strike!”
“I didn’t see, master!” Spunkenflunk ran to the pins, and discretely tipped them over, before turning around and clapping for Flimtwizzle. “Great shot, master. I will get going to get hold of the materials we need. We’re out of paper, and low on ink and cookies. I’ll head off to AZ’E’mart right away!”
Spunkenflunk returned soon after, carrying a huge bag with him. He emptied the contents of it out on the table; Cookies, pens, paper, and the newest issue of Playgnome. Flimtwizzle discretely snatched the magazine.
“Right, let’s get writing, then!”
Spunkenflunk placed the pen and paper in front of Flimtwizzle. Flimtwizzle read aloud as he wrote; “Dear Pookiebookie…”
“Erm… sir… I doubt she’d say “pookiebookie” in an official letter.”
“Right. NEW PAPER!”
Spunkenflunk replaced the paper as quickly as possible. Flimtwizzle sat down again. Shortly after, he read aloud:
“Dearest Flimtwizzle,
You may have noticed my continued absence as of late. I would like you to know that I am never coming back. There are things going on that I would rather not pull the guild into.
I am leaving full control of the guild to you. Please tell the remaining council members this.
Love,
Taelus”
Galvinoth walked across the marble-floor in the meeting hall in Stormwind. It was his for the night. It was here he would meet with him.
He had received a very short letter, where the person he was going to meet just had asked directly, almost ordered, Galvinoth to show up for a meeting. Now, the gnome was not here yet.
Steps were heard outside.
“Ah, there he is…” Galvinoth thought.
And he was right.
Flimtwizzle entered through the huge door, his imp following him in leaps from floor tile to floor tile.
“Hello, elf. How’s life?”
“Good. But that wasn’t really what the meeting was about, was it?”
“Indeed not, elf!”
Flimtwizzle looked at Galvinoth, with a look that might be the look of someone impressed. Galvinoth went on:
“Well, why this meeting, then?”
“Ah, right! As you know, our dearest Taelus has not been around a lot lately?”
“Correct, she’s been absent”.
“Indeed. My search for her hasn’t given any results, but recently, there was new info… from her!”
“Oh?”
“Oh”.
Flimtwizzle pulled out a note from his quite huge pockets, and handed it to Galvinoth.
Galvinoth narrowed his eyes to read the tiny handwriting on the piece of paper:
“Dearest Flimtwizzle,
You may have noticed my continued absence as of late. I would like you to know that I am never coming back. There are things going on that I would rather not pull the guild into.
I am leaving full control of the guild to you. Please tell the remaining council members this.
Love,
Taelus”
“Hmm… What’s your proof this isn’t a fraud, Flimtwizzle?” Galvinoth said, holding the note up to the light as if the light would give away a secret message or something.
“She sent it to me! It’s signed by her! Look, my writing is…” Flimtwizzle grabbed a piece of paper from his pocket, and scribbled his name on it – “Completely different”.
“True, Taelus has a way more distinguished handwriting. But this could be a professional forgery, you know. What’s your proof it isn’t?”
“Trust me, elf! But if you don’t… Remember how Taelus used to be quite fond of wearing a turban?”
Galvinoth nodded. He remembered the turban very well.
“Well, then. She sent this with her letter”. Flimtwizzle handed Galvinoth a feather, quite alike the one from Taelus’ blue turban.
“Hmm…” Galvinoth took the feather from Flimtwizzle.
“Alright”
Galvinoth went over to one of the desks in the room. Flimtwizzle didn’t move.
Galvinoth pulled out one of the drawers, found ink and paper, sat down and started writing, remaining silent for a bit of time, only speaking to ask “What’s your last name again?” and be answered “Niveus” by the gnome.
“Right”.
Galvinoth continued the writing. Soon after, he leaned back, took the piece of paper between his hands and read what he had just written:
“I, Galvinoth Dune’Adah, representative of the Talon of Arathor, accept Flimtwizzle Niveus as the successor of Taelus Windiaa, at the request of Windiaa, resigning at her own will.
Signed,
Galvinoth Dune’adah”
“Sign it” Galvinoth said, and handed the document to Flimtwizzle.
Flimtwizzle picked up the feather from Taelus’ turban, dipped it in the ink jar, and signed the document “Flimtwizzle Ribbleglop Niveus”.
Then Galvinoth took the document.
“I’ll make this official. Congratulations. Flimtwizzle”
“Thank you elf. When did you become a scribe anyway? I didn’t know elves could read, or write, for that sake”
Galvinoth looked at the gnome with a puzzled expression.
“A huge majority of the elves can do both, Flimtwizzle”
“Well, there you go; you learn something new every day!” Flimtwizzle exclaimed as the two left the building.
After his daring takeover of the guild, Flimtwizzle hurried back to his Secret Lair in Ironforge. He arrived there to find his minion, Spunkenflunk, sitting on Flimtwizzle's bed, dressed in only his underwear, looking at some magazine. After making a mental note to burn his sheets, he subtly made his presence known by tossing a pen at Spunkenflunk's head. He allowed Spunkenflunk a moment to pull himself together, and then enthusiastically answered his minion's inquiry about his success.
"The operation was a success! You are standing before the new leader of the Talon of Arathor! I wanted to rename it to "Army of the Black", but that cursed Elf wouldn't let me!", he said, slightly twisting the truth to make himself look better.
Spunkenflunk commented upon the dubious origins of Dune'adah's family, and Flimtwizzle agreed with him.
"I think I'll send him on some suicide mission somewhere. Maybe I'll tell him to go insult that Stormrage fellow.", he mused.
Spunkenflunk thought that over for a moment.
"I wonder who would win in a fight between the two. The Elf, or the mutated Elf? I mean, all Illidan has going for him is the fact that he has wings!"
"I'm willing to bet Illidan would come up on top. After all, everyone knows that horns are better than those antlers the Elf used to have!"
Spunkenflunk knew better than to go into any real discussion with Flimtwizzle so he hurriedly agreed with his superior. Flimtwizzle walked over to the Plotting Table and sat down with a malevolent grin on his face.
"Well then, Now that I have a guild at my disposal, we have some planning to do..."
____________________________________________________
OOC: The explanation for Flimt's new rank is what you see, as you might have noticed there was some changes in the leadership. Ben and I rp'd that out, and came out with this!
“Master, it is good to see you”
Flimtwizzle looked at Spunkenflunk, as nodded slowly. “Hello, Spunkenflunk. Have a seat.”
Spunkenflunk sat down on a chair, looking at Flimtwizzle with his attention solemnly focused on the gnome and his pointy hat.
“We have a problem, Spunkenflunk. As I’m sure even you managed to understand, Substance 28-B was not a success. In fact, I had assorted henchmen research it, and it appears to be nothing but water with a bit of Dreaming Glory mixed in it.”
“Noo! you always get cheated by that Foul Black Market!” Spunkenflunk exclaimed, and shook his fist at the air.
“It was. I’ve not seen one zombie-mindslave yet!”
“No, sir, no one ended up slightly retarded, either. It clearly didn’t work.”
“Well, I’ve seen some pretty stupid elves around, you know!”
“But that’s normal for the race, sir!”
“True, Spunk. True.”
Spunkenflunk remained silent, as Flimtwizzle didn’t speak for a short period of time, enjoying the dramatic effect. Flimtwizzle spoke again.
“Well, as you might remember, I said I’d pay that goblin those 2500 gold pieces back within a few months, right?”
“Aye, sir, I remember!”
“Of course, I thought he’d be a mindslave by the time, so I accepted! But now, he wants his money. And he appears to have some deliciously violent ogre brutes running around, which I think you experienced, right Spunk?”
Spunkenflunk nodded, curling his moustache around his finger.
“Yes, your cackly-ness! But they managed to attach my jaw again!” Spunkenflunk said.
Flimtwizzle smiled a smiley smile back; “Well, it almost looks natural, too!”
“Thank you, sir!” Spunkenflunk exclaimed.
Flimtwizzle returned to the topic: “Well, as a result of this, it looks like the Infernal Conquest… might go BANKRUPT! I recently got a new sending of invisible vampire-bats. They all got confiscated.”
Spunkenflunk looked sad. It was quite a pain to have your invisible vampire-bats confiscated, any serious villain knew that.
Flimtwizzle continued; “I’ve considered selling this secret lair, so I had a pawnbroker come look at it. But APPARENTLY, you cannot sell an apartment if you don’t own it!”
“What’s the world come to!” Spunk exclaimed, clearly offended of the mad statement of the pawnbroker.
“Indeed. I tried bribing him to let us sell it anyway, but apparently he didn’t have use for a box of fish…” Flimtwizzle nodded at the box in the corner. Spunkenflunk went over there, grabbed a trout and returned to the table.
“So after I killed the pawnbroker, I sat down and started thinking… and I found out, that what we need… is an evil plot!”
Spunkenflunk clapped. An evil plot was just what a villain needed.
“What did you come up with, master?” Spunkenflunk asked Flimtwizzle, still not concentrating on anything but listening to Flimtwizzle.
“Well, Spunk, I thought about running for President of Stormwind to raise funds, but then I remembered that The Big Book of Plotting disagrees with that kind of thing, so I decided that wouldn’t work”.
Spunkenflunk nodded.
“So, instead, I thought about sponsoring the conquest with money from brandishing commercials, but there’s no way a villain can get a sponsor, nowadays!”
“I hear Stormrage has advertisements for Belah’s Enchantments tattooed on his back now! Is that true, sir?”
“I’m afraid it is. That stupid elf-abomination, he also got the were-felsteeds when they were on sale! He always gets the best deals. If he wasn’t the most powerful being in Outland I’d -so- have him assassinated.”
Spunkenflunk cackled. Flimtwizzle continued:
“It’s a serious problem, Spunk! Look at poor Nalnar!” Flimtwizzle pointed at his imp, bouncing up and down. “He’s got 1250 mouths to feed! They all sit on his mother of a king-size demon, but still! That’s many mouths when you totally lack funds for terrorizing the population! We got a lack of funds, Spunkenflunk! If we just had an army that did not need to be paid!”
Spunkenflunk’s eyes lit up. He curled his moustache around his index finger, and cackled slightly when he uttered: “Army… no cash… The guild, master? Assume control of that… Talon-thing, and use –them- to do your bidding! Taelus should be easy to convince of handing power to you!”
“That’s a good idea, Spunkenflunk! I’m glad I thought of it! And Taelus has been off for a bit, so should be easy for me to just tell that elf she wanted me to take over”
“Indeed, master! I am happy to serve an entity as brilliant as you!”
Flimtwizzle nodded, obviously happy.
“Well, Spunkenflunk let us look in The Big Book of Plotting on how to do this!”
Flimtwizzle shoved the enormous book out from under the table, and after a bit of struggle managed to open it and look in the index.
“Right, Spunk, where to look?”
“Forge a letter, sir! Elves can’t read, and it’s that elf we’ll have to cheat!”
“Brilliant idea by me once again!”
Spunkenflunk nodded, as they worked together on turning the pages of the huge book.
“Spunkenflunk read it aloud.” Flimtwizzle ordered, as he went to lie on the bed.
“Ahem” Spunkenflunk cleared his throat, and looked at the pages of the huge book. He started to read with a clear voice:
“Big Book of Plotting, §121; Forging Books, Paintings, Letters, and Legal Documents.
For this act of crime, you are going to need several things before starting. First off, you will need a plot, important enough for you to be bothered with making a forgery to achieve your goal, as a forgery can be a long and tiring process.”
“Check, we got that. I love their step-by-step approach” Flimtwizzle mumbled from the bed, and kept on listening.
Spunkenflunk agreed. “Second off, you need a hand, as you will have trouble writing/painting the forgery otherwise. Do we have hands, sir?”
“Wha’?”
Flimtwizzle turned around. He had made his way to the box of fish, and was now standing with a fish in his left hand.
“Hands, master”
“Oh, right!” Flimtwizzle looked down his arm, and… “Oh, no! I lack a hand! There’s a fish instead!”
Flimtwizzle sounded quite panicked.
“Master, maybe the fish is covering your hand? Try to remove the fish!”
Flimtwizzle tossed the fish back into the box, and sighed with relieve.
“Hand; Check”
“Next off, you will need the ability to create a forgery. That means you shall be able to write with another person’s hand-writing.”
“Oh, dear. Can you do that, Spunk?”
“I am afraid not, master. I am incompetent, remember?”
“Oh, right… then let me… Wobble wobble wobble wobble…”
Flimtwizzle started to wiggle his fingers, while chanting what appeared to be pure gibberish.
“SCHWING! Check” Flimtwizzle exclaimed.
“Then, next, you need to make sure your lie is believable. There shall not be any positive outcome for you if your fraud is exposed.”
“Check. Taelus loves me, it seems realistic”
“Now, you might want some kind of proof (fake, of course) to help convince whoever you wish to cheat that your lie is not a lie”
Flimtwizzle looked around the room; “I KNOW!”
He pointed to the feather in the ink jar.
“That feather looks like the one Taelus has in that silly turban of hers. We’ll take that!”
“Excellent idea, master!”
“I know!”
Flimtwizzle went to the end of the room, and started placing a bunch of pins in a triangular shape. He then grabbed a cannonball next to him and walked to the other end of the room as Spunkenflunk kept on reading;
“Now, you are ready to produce your forgery, you just need to get hold of needed materials: Ink, paper, pen, and preferably some kind of cookies or the like to make time go past quicker”
Flimtwizzle rolled the cannon ball through the room towards the pins, and missed completely. He cheered wildly.
“Did you see that, Spunk? Strike!”
“I didn’t see, master!” Spunkenflunk ran to the pins, and discretely tipped them over, before turning around and clapping for Flimtwizzle. “Great shot, master. I will get going to get hold of the materials we need. We’re out of paper, and low on ink and cookies. I’ll head off to AZ’E’mart right away!”
Spunkenflunk returned soon after, carrying a huge bag with him. He emptied the contents of it out on the table; Cookies, pens, paper, and the newest issue of Playgnome. Flimtwizzle discretely snatched the magazine.
“Right, let’s get writing, then!”
Spunkenflunk placed the pen and paper in front of Flimtwizzle. Flimtwizzle read aloud as he wrote; “Dear Pookiebookie…”
“Erm… sir… I doubt she’d say “pookiebookie” in an official letter.”
“Right. NEW PAPER!”
Spunkenflunk replaced the paper as quickly as possible. Flimtwizzle sat down again. Shortly after, he read aloud:
“Dearest Flimtwizzle,
You may have noticed my continued absence as of late. I would like you to know that I am never coming back. There are things going on that I would rather not pull the guild into.
I am leaving full control of the guild to you. Please tell the remaining council members this.
Love,
Taelus”
Galvinoth walked across the marble-floor in the meeting hall in Stormwind. It was his for the night. It was here he would meet with him.
He had received a very short letter, where the person he was going to meet just had asked directly, almost ordered, Galvinoth to show up for a meeting. Now, the gnome was not here yet.
Steps were heard outside.
“Ah, there he is…” Galvinoth thought.
And he was right.
Flimtwizzle entered through the huge door, his imp following him in leaps from floor tile to floor tile.
“Hello, elf. How’s life?”
“Good. But that wasn’t really what the meeting was about, was it?”
“Indeed not, elf!”
Flimtwizzle looked at Galvinoth, with a look that might be the look of someone impressed. Galvinoth went on:
“Well, why this meeting, then?”
“Ah, right! As you know, our dearest Taelus has not been around a lot lately?”
“Correct, she’s been absent”.
“Indeed. My search for her hasn’t given any results, but recently, there was new info… from her!”
“Oh?”
“Oh”.
Flimtwizzle pulled out a note from his quite huge pockets, and handed it to Galvinoth.
Galvinoth narrowed his eyes to read the tiny handwriting on the piece of paper:
“Dearest Flimtwizzle,
You may have noticed my continued absence as of late. I would like you to know that I am never coming back. There are things going on that I would rather not pull the guild into.
I am leaving full control of the guild to you. Please tell the remaining council members this.
Love,
Taelus”
“Hmm… What’s your proof this isn’t a fraud, Flimtwizzle?” Galvinoth said, holding the note up to the light as if the light would give away a secret message or something.
“She sent it to me! It’s signed by her! Look, my writing is…” Flimtwizzle grabbed a piece of paper from his pocket, and scribbled his name on it – “Completely different”.
“True, Taelus has a way more distinguished handwriting. But this could be a professional forgery, you know. What’s your proof it isn’t?”
“Trust me, elf! But if you don’t… Remember how Taelus used to be quite fond of wearing a turban?”
Galvinoth nodded. He remembered the turban very well.
“Well, then. She sent this with her letter”. Flimtwizzle handed Galvinoth a feather, quite alike the one from Taelus’ blue turban.
“Hmm…” Galvinoth took the feather from Flimtwizzle.
“Alright”
Galvinoth went over to one of the desks in the room. Flimtwizzle didn’t move.
Galvinoth pulled out one of the drawers, found ink and paper, sat down and started writing, remaining silent for a bit of time, only speaking to ask “What’s your last name again?” and be answered “Niveus” by the gnome.
“Right”.
Galvinoth continued the writing. Soon after, he leaned back, took the piece of paper between his hands and read what he had just written:
“I, Galvinoth Dune’Adah, representative of the Talon of Arathor, accept Flimtwizzle Niveus as the successor of Taelus Windiaa, at the request of Windiaa, resigning at her own will.
Signed,
Galvinoth Dune’adah”
“Sign it” Galvinoth said, and handed the document to Flimtwizzle.
Flimtwizzle picked up the feather from Taelus’ turban, dipped it in the ink jar, and signed the document “Flimtwizzle Ribbleglop Niveus”.
Then Galvinoth took the document.
“I’ll make this official. Congratulations. Flimtwizzle”
“Thank you elf. When did you become a scribe anyway? I didn’t know elves could read, or write, for that sake”
Galvinoth looked at the gnome with a puzzled expression.
“A huge majority of the elves can do both, Flimtwizzle”
“Well, there you go; you learn something new every day!” Flimtwizzle exclaimed as the two left the building.
After his daring takeover of the guild, Flimtwizzle hurried back to his Secret Lair in Ironforge. He arrived there to find his minion, Spunkenflunk, sitting on Flimtwizzle's bed, dressed in only his underwear, looking at some magazine. After making a mental note to burn his sheets, he subtly made his presence known by tossing a pen at Spunkenflunk's head. He allowed Spunkenflunk a moment to pull himself together, and then enthusiastically answered his minion's inquiry about his success.
"The operation was a success! You are standing before the new leader of the Talon of Arathor! I wanted to rename it to "Army of the Black", but that cursed Elf wouldn't let me!", he said, slightly twisting the truth to make himself look better.
Spunkenflunk commented upon the dubious origins of Dune'adah's family, and Flimtwizzle agreed with him.
"I think I'll send him on some suicide mission somewhere. Maybe I'll tell him to go insult that Stormrage fellow.", he mused.
Spunkenflunk thought that over for a moment.
"I wonder who would win in a fight between the two. The Elf, or the mutated Elf? I mean, all Illidan has going for him is the fact that he has wings!"
"I'm willing to bet Illidan would come up on top. After all, everyone knows that horns are better than those antlers the Elf used to have!"
Spunkenflunk knew better than to go into any real discussion with Flimtwizzle so he hurriedly agreed with his superior. Flimtwizzle walked over to the Plotting Table and sat down with a malevolent grin on his face.
"Well then, Now that I have a guild at my disposal, we have some planning to do..."
____________________________________________________
OOC: The explanation for Flimt's new rank is what you see, as you might have noticed there was some changes in the leadership. Ben and I rp'd that out, and came out with this!
