Founding of the Hand of Thaurissan

The following is a transcript of the meeting between Narrah Wildfire and the Thane Khazgolan Ravenbeard of Shadowforge concerning the formation of the Hand of Thaurissan, as chronicled by the Pandaren Lorewalker Wenxi.

Appearance
It was a quiet night in the Grim Guzzler, music played softly throughout the tavern; idle chatter, bellowing laugh and disgusting belches still overpowered the melody. Khazgolan Ravenbeard walked into the Grim Guzzler, eyeing the folks and empty table around the room. He was a bit early for whom he was meeting, and he had every intention to be this early. Grunting as his eyes finally rested on a table more secluded from others, he moved to take a seat facing the entrance. As he awaited his guest to show, he would give the slightest nod to two Dwarves on the opposite side of the tavern. After what was a mere moment of sitting alone, a movement at the tavern door caught Khazgolan’s eye. His guest had arrived, intending on being early as well, though he had expected she would do so.Upon entering the tavern the woman looked around cautiously, nearly suspicious of her surroundings, but she was just as he had seen her last. Her fiery red hair fell down her back fastened into braids; her face twisted into a scowl. Eyeing the room cautiously her gaze would finally land on the black bearded dwarf whom awaited her arrival. He’d beckon her over to the table with a slight nod, smirking as her scowl turned into a frown as she made her way to the table. “Lord Khazgolan Ravenbeard, a pleasure as always.” She approached the table greeting him and placed a hand on the empty chair, gesturing questioningly if she should take a seat. Nodding at the chair Khazgolan’s smirk grew. “Former Captain Narrah Wildfire, glad ye’ could make it. I trust ye’ve an idea as to why I’ve called ye’ here?” Her eyes narrowed at the mention of her former title, but quickly corrected her expression to one that was guarded. “I’ve some idea, aye, though seein’ as yer th’ one ‘oo called me here I assume ye’ve got an explanation fer me.”

He leaned back in his chair, a closed fist resting on the table. “Yer well aware o’ th’ up an’ comin’ emperor, aye?” Narrah snorted softly. “O’ course I am, I was nay boorn yesterday. Th’ child will be th’ ruler o’er two o’ th’ three Clans, leavin’ oor kin in th’ majority for every decision. Tis a powerful position…” He gave her a solid no continuing on with his point. “Aye, an’ given our past an’ how welcomed our Clan is around others, th’ future emperor will be needin’ some protection. Power is noothin’ without a force te’ back it up.” She’d perk a brow as she too leaned back into her chair, arms folded across her chest. “So wha’ is it exactly that’ ye’ require o’ my services then?” Khazgolan smiled. “I require ye’ as a whole actually. I intend te’ gather th’ protection needed fer th’ emperor, which leaves me in need o’ someone te’ control th’ rest o’ th’ guard, keep everyone in line when I’m away. I’ve battled with ye’, I know what yer capable o’ an’ I know ye’ve th’ traning,” He paused momentarily reaching to his side and pulled out a rolled parchment sealed with crimson wax and imprinted with a raven. He slid it across the table before continuing. “all ye’ need te’ do is accept my offer.”

Narrah eyed the parchment and carefully reached to grasp it, breaking the seal. Her eyes flickered over the page as one brow perked having reached the end of the message. “Am I th’ first ye’ve asked?” She questioned curiously as she set the parchment down on the table. Khazgolan frowned at her and replied with sharpness in his tone. “I asked -ye’- te’ meet me here, an’ that’s all that should matter.” She nodded and gave him a smirk before lowering her voice. “So yer intention is te’ serve an’ protect th’ Queen an’ her son?” She hid a smile, having asked this specific question purposefully. He let out a snarl as he leaned into the table, his voice lowered to a barely audible volume. “I said we are protectin’ th’ new emperor, nay his mother. She has offered arrangement an’ supplies, which I’ll nay turn down. With that bein’ said once her son turns o’ age te’ claim his rightful title, we owe th’ Bronzebeard whore nothin’. All loyalty we have is te’ her son, but th’ cards must be played right. We’re simply bitin’ our cheeks an’ waitin’ till th’ opportune time.” Narrah’s smirk turned into a full grin, please at the shared distaste as she leaned into the table bringing her face close to his. “I’ve always liked th’ way ye’ think Ravenbeard, it’d be an honor to serve ye’ an’ th’ Hand o’ Thaurissan.” Narrah leaned back in her chair satisfied as Khazgolan left his and headed to the bar, leaving his guest alone to her thoughts.

Once at the bar and awaiting two Slammers, Khazgolan would quickly sneak over to the table where the two Dwarves he had made contact with earlier were sitting. Grabbing a small brown package from their table he would grab the Slammers off the bar and head back to his table with Narrah none the wiser. He quietly returned to the table setting down the mug and package beside her and gave the woman and expectant nod. Reluctantly she grabbed the package, ripping it open to find a red cloth folded tightly. Watching her with interest Khazgolan would almost grow concerned. “We’ll begin recruitin’ fer th’ cause in a month’s time. I expect ye’ te’ be ready an’ waitin’ should I call fer ye’ sooner.” As she unfurled the cloth finding the Black Anvil of Shadowforge in the center of the red tabard, Narrah eagerly stood up and threw the tabard on tucking it through her belt and admired herself for a brief moment before sitting down. “Anythin’ ye’ require I’ll be at yer call te’ answer, Ravenbeard. I eagerly await your word te’ begin works on th’ Hand.” Khazgolan grinned at her before grabbing his mug and raising it in a toast. Narrah quickly raised her mug to meet his as her new partner winked at her. “Drink up -General- Wildfire, we’ve much te’ discuss before th’ end o’ th’ night.”