Wildfire Riders

The Slaughtered Lamb. There couldn't be a more fitting name for a place in all of Azeroth, Arrens thought to himself. His buzzbox had just been turned off. He couldn't handle it anymore. Too much had happened tonight; too many words that had been left unsaid were now in the open, unable to be taken ...

The Royal Apothecary Society is, I believe, known to use spies. Aside from developing new strains of the plague, they're pretty much an overall group of bastards. When all else fails, blame the RAS. You really won't go wrong.

Are we talking mornings or evening? If mornings, it's gonna be sketchy sometimes based upon my son. If evenings, probably not as I typically log off around 9-10 server due to crazy work hours. Of course, I'm almost always up for any kind of PvP unless there's RPs, so consider me a wildcard.

I know a warlock who has never been in BWL. He's a pretty cool dude, if I do say so myself. In the off chance a run happens in the not-too-distant future, perhaps you could toss him an invite? He'll bring cookies. The good kind, too. With chocolate chips. And fel-taint.

Arrens left the bar that night walking the Canal District back to the University. He'd fouled up things before, to be sure. His first time summoning an imp with his mentor Briarthorn was certainly a memory he'd never forget. The portal that opened was large enough for a Doomguard to try creeping thr...

((I do keep putting Arrens in precarious predicaments, don't I? I guess it's self-paybeck for the hell I put my fellow RPers through with my rogue. Or else it's karma biting me in the ass. Whichever.))

Lady Darrows, Though we have not been formally introduced, we have met in passing on several occasions. My name is Arrens Caltrains and I am the Headmaster of Stormwind University. It has come to my attention that one of your employees, Ms. Lyresse Mathers, is looking for work within the halls of my...