Vlados (01) - Rabbit Stew

The fellow clad in black cuir boli leather armor cradled the crossbow like a lover. Downrange from his position, he watched the shaggy, white-furred yeti chase over hard-crusted snow and ice covering the Alteraci mountains after a frantic fleeing snowshoe rabbit. He let out his breath and depressed the mechanism trigger. 

Vlados Colton

The crossbow bolt flew true, speeding on the path the shooter had planned. The bolt smashed into the thick-skulled beast at the ear under the spiraling horn, punching into the animal's brain. Impetus carried the body six feet, churning up the snow.

The snowshoe rabbit wasted no time finding cover, not yet convinced that the danger had passed.

“Be safe, Little Brother,” murmured the shooter, rising from where he had been concealed. The snowshoe rabbit had earned another day in peace, however much he would have made a tasty stew. Once upon a time, the snowshoe rabbit had been an essential animal to the Alteraci, who had once lived here before the Alliance destroyed the kingdom. Their fur had provided them with warm boots, tunics, cloaks, and gloves while their meat had fed them, both as a tasty stew and as dried travel meat. As a child, their estate had raised them as a form of livestock.

Vlados shook his head to clear it from the cobwebs and replaced his orange wool mask. The mask was annoying when attempting concealment, and only Syndicate bravos wore them; the orange color had been initially worn to honor their Alteraci heritage and had become their signature.

The Syndicate was a criminal organization from the Arathi Highlands to the Alterac Mountains. It was formed by Alteraci noblemen and the remnants of their forces after King Aiden Perenolde had betrayed the Alliance and was subsequently destroyed by the forces of Stromgarde. Remnants of the Argus Wake augmented their sorcerous power and then strived to spread their power and influence using terror and depredation.

Alteraci Yeti

Vlados trudged wearily through the snow, finally coming to where he had hobbled his thick-coated Alteraci mule. Hunting the yeti was a tactic, using the scent of its blood to attract and distract others of its kind; they’d posture and fight over its carcass for the meat. Yetis were opportunistic feeders who did not scruple regarding cannibalism, and while they were distracted, they would not bother Vlados and his cargo.

It did not take Vlados long to locate the cave he sought. As he approached the mouth of the cave, a voice rang out. “Stand and step away from the mule.”

Being careful to keep his hands away from visible weapons, Vlados did as instructed; a figure, clad in much the same way as Vlados, appeared from concealment. 

“Speak,” he said, his voice muffled by his orange mask.

“Messenger pouch on the mule,” Vlados said. “Plus supplies.” Vlados held up a badge etched with the mark of the Syndicate.

The sentinel went to the mule and opened the messenger pouch. It contained a leather scroll case. He turned to Vlados. “You’re late.”

Vlados shrugged. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

The sentinel waved off his associates still in concealment. “Let's get out of this crap,” he said, leading the mule to Vlados and leading Vlados and the mule to the cave.

The cave was not very impressive, just the one chamber, with pallets of bedding along the walls. A warm fire of dried dung was close enough to the entrance that its smoke would exit the cave. The back of the chamber held a woman wearing a now-dirty merchant blouse and trousers. She had bruises on her face and kept her eyes averted from the rest of the cave’s occupants - four other armored Syndicate bravos and a woman in robes festooned with Fel-green sigils - a mage.

Vlados’ guide went to the mage; as a rule, mages in the Syndicate acted as leaders. “Message and supplies, Boss.”

“Good. We were getting low,” commented the mage as she opened the scroll and read. “Good news - Anacratus will pay to get his daughter back.” She looked at Vlados. “More snow tonight. You should be fine to leave in the morning, but leave the mule; we’ll need it for the hostage.” If the Syndicate followed the usual pattern, once the ransom had been paid, the daughter would be released on the road from Strahnbrad, once a major trade city of Alterac but now a ghost town sheltering the Syndicate. The road from Strahnbrad led to Andorhal and the Argent Crusade based at Chillwind Point. 

She finished reading the scroll. “Sorry, boys - no playtime with this one.” She indicated their captive with a nod. “She’s payroll, not plunder.” When captives could not find someone to pay their ransom, they became little more than slaves, used mercilessly by their captors.

The Syndicate bravos unpacked the mule, but Vlados unloaded his own backpack. 

“What’s that?” one asked.

“Personal stuff; I went on a courier run to Redridge and picked up some peppers for Canaga,” Vlados said.

“Canaga? You cook?” asked one of the bravos. Canaga was a traditional Alteraci stew made with any bovine meat at hand, onions, apples, and peppers. 

“How about you make some for us tonight,” asked another bravo.

Vlados pretended to think about it. “Why not? Just remember to buy me drinks in Strahnbad after you get paid.” The bravos agreed to the deal, and Vlados handed them a fancy carved wooden box with the prize - dried and crushed Cindergut Peppers from Pandaria.

The bravos started the stew while Vlados made himself useful. Walking over to the captive, he took her food bowl. “Snowmelt and jerky are good enough for you,” he taunted. “Don’t fret - if Daddy pays, it won’t be much longer.” Vlados went outside, scoured the bowl with snow, then packed it full to bring back inside.

Returning to the captive, he put the bowl down next to her. “Drink only water. Eat only jerky,” he whispered. “Keep hope alive.” She replied with tight lips but the barest of nods.

That night the Syndicate celebrated the near-success of their assignment. The ale cask Vlados had brought was broached just in time to help the bandits fight the spicy fire from the stew. The guards on watch were changed after dinner and were delighted to find a veritable feast waiting for them. Around the fire, Vlados told stories for their entertainment. By midnight, the fire's food, ale, and warmth had them all bed down for the night, contented and full.

By morning, the fire had gone out; no one had fed it fuel during the cold evening. Vlados woke, shook the captive awake, then sliced the ropes that held her captive. “Stand up and walk around. We’ve got a way to travel and little time before they figure out you’re free.”

“What, the guards?” asked the captive.

“Oh, no… the rest of the Syndicate. These are dead.”

“Dead? It looks like they are sleeping,” she said, still not understanding.

“Yes, an eternal sleep, as it turns out, Miss Veranda,” said Vlados. “Anacratus hired me to rescue you, or avenge you, whichever worked out best.” He smiled at her. “As it happens, I have done both for the same fee. Quite the bargain.”

“How..” Veranda started to ask, but Vlados interrupted her. “A two-part poison. The first part was in the ale, the second mixed in with the Cinergut peppers to hide the taste.” 

“How did you avoid it, then? I saw you eating and drinking with them,” she asked.

“I made the poison; of course, I also made some antidote. I’d have slipped it into your water if they’d shown a little kindness and fed you the stew,” Vlados said. “Now steal a cloak and wait outside; I need to slit their throats and loot their bodies.”

Veranda nodded but asked while getting herself ready. “Isn’t slitting their throats kind of…redundant, now?” 

“Not at all,” he said, beginning his grisly work. “The blood scent will attract scavengers, and when the Syndicate discovers the body when their messenger fails to return, they’ll send someone to check. Slit throats and robbery give them an obvious cause of death, and the scavengers will obscure everything else.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, but I don’t want them to suspect poison - I may have to do this again,” said Vlados. “Fortunately, they drank all of the ale. Be ready to leave when I get back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To make sure the sentries match the others.” Vlados smiled again. “I may need to do this again, but I have done this before.” 

When Vlados returned, he found Veranda ready to travel. “Here, take this and drink. It’ll help with the bruises.”

“What is it?” Veranda asked. 

“Healing potion. It's a long way to Andorhal, and it’ll seem longer if you are in pain.” Vlados didn’t mention that he had brought it to help with any wounds she might have suffered from her captivity.

He helped her mount the mule and led her away towards Andorhal and safety.