Snubson

Venheelros rose from the bed, a large grin appeared on his face as he looked around himself and got used to the surroundings. The night before, just a haze, the rum had flowed plentyful and often, the women always laughing and giggling, just as he liked them to be. Looking to the side, he saw the latest conquest and grinned slightly, before slipping silently out of the room whilst completing the fastenings upon his leather armour. He exited the doorway of the grand house he had the grace of bestowing the honour of his attendance and walked quietly through the streets, with the large grin of satisfaction upon his face. He knew in his own head, today would be a good day.


People looked upon the bloodelf with the idiotic grin upon his face with pity, his armour covered in grime, the hovel he'd just left being that of the cheapest, ugliest hag known within Orgrimmar. The way he tried to walk with a superior manner, yet everyone he passed tried in vain to hold the looks of disgust he should have had. The day was raining heavily, yet this loonatic walked as if he was on a cloud, with the sun shining brightly. Mostly from out of his behind.


He knew in his head, as a child, something had happened to him, yet something kept blocking it out. A voice inside his head said that it didnt matter, that was behind him and he had everything to give to the world, from his beautiful face to the immaculate way in which he used the weapons bestowed upon him. The way which the meer fact that he was nearby, caused such happyness and enjoyment to others, sometimes even the women swooned once they had looked upon his features of such splendour and gorgeousness.


As he walked upon the streets, a slight lurch occasionally from his left leg, the locals tended to look in either disgust or sorrow. They knew he was a rogue, a thief, an assassin, it was more than often commented upon how he'd actually lasted this long and had gained such a reputation, when..while fully in view of everyone it was agreed a plate wearing tauren warrior would have had more chance of taking their coins subtley. Yet...according to the rumourings of the local tavernkeep, something happened to him when the hood came fully up. Not quite a transformation, more an alligning of his spirit. The tavenkeep had seen it only once, as Venheelros was leaving after two bottles of the local rum, he'd stagged as per usual towards the door, then reached into the satchel to his side, took a hood out and placed it upon his head. The full stature of the rogue, came into focus, there was no other way around it. The stagger left, the uncertainty gone, a sharpness in his eyes came to. Thats all the keep said "his eyes...dey saw me watching an never have I been scared to me bones..not even when dat shaman came in stinkin! I felt...cold an dead.."


He left Orgrimmar upon his wolf...he reached the boat for bootybay shortly and stepped aboard and looked around the boat. On the upper deck, a stout dwarf watched the elf wander into the hold area and shrugged.


Limping into the hold area the elf went, reaching to his side satchel as he entered. Pulling on the hood to his head, ensuring it was secure and safe, checking his sword and dagger edge with a finger gently as can be, the poisons on both being thick, glistening and deep with the threat of pain and death...he left the hold silently and headed towards the upper deck. Gold...from the target...and the bounty...it was what someone with his beauty and skill was born for...

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