Wildfire Riders

Bricu walked through Cut Throat Alley, down Landen Thoroughfare, and nor'westward down the sloping lanes towards the edge of Old Town and the Canals. Where as a number of the other buildings and houses were poorly maintained--or had shifty eyed men and women looking out of windows--he came upon one small apartment building which had seen recent repairs and was neatly maintained. This was also the only building on the block that had a small garden, a rooftop hanging affair spilling from the crown of the building and down the walls of the top floor; a picturesque version of what Old Town looked liked before the Horde sacked the city years ago.

"Oi, Mr. Bricu!"

Bricu looked to see one of Old Town's street kids--Andry, Bricu thought--with his crew watching him carefully. "You don't want to head that way!"

"An' why not?" Bricu said. He rolled, and lit, a cigarette while he half-listened to the answer.

"A witch with half a face lives there! She once threatened Neko here if our ball landed up in her garden."

"Did yeh get the ball back?"

"Nether no! We ran!"

"Smart choice. But she's not a witch. She's just someone who owes me. I'll get yer ball back while I get her ta pay up. Alright?"

"If you don't make it, can I have your tabard?" Andry said.

"Sure." Bricu said smiling. "But I'll be out in a wee bit."

"We'll be watching."

"Like I said, smart choice."

Bricu walked up the landing, and ducked into the common hall along the eastern wall. Double-timing up the stairs, he took the steps two at a time, hopping his way up three flights. Reaching the top floor landing with a catch in his breath, he stepped over to the door and knocked politely.

There wasn't an immediate answer. Bricu pulled the cigarette from his lips, rolling it about in his fingers as he knocked again. Placing it back at his lips, his head was rewreathed in fragrant smoke. This time he was rewarded by noise audible from behind the door, deeper in the building.

"... ether; alright! Alright! I'm coming, hold your Nether-damned..."

Footsteps across wooden floor; the bolt and lock unlatched with a heavy iron rattle, and the door swung in and open. Illithias stood framed by the portal, backlit from the sunlight streaming into the apartment's main room. She was dressed in her usual satorial choices which did not require the deflection of blades; Labourer's boots, dark hide trousers, and a loose undershirt. These were accessorised by tough looking leather gloves, and a pair of engineer's eye goggles; pushed up high on her forhead, making her fringe protrude up from her forehead like a monument. A strange mixture of alchemical odours accompanied her to the door.

"Ah! Bit- Bricu." her scowl softened as she saw who had disturbed her.

"Ayeh, I-" Illithias didn't let him finish. She quickly grasped his shoulder, tugging him inside the threshold.

"Quick now; work. Lab. I've got work in laboratory. Can't leave it alone; come in, come in."

She moved to turn, but stopped herself. Facing Bricu again, she plucked the cigarette from his mouth, and dropped it to the floor. It was ground out underneath the sole of her right boot.

"No smokeweed in here. Dangerous. Also a filthy habit."

She turned fully this time, striding her way back to the hallway extending into the apartment from the main room.

She paused in a doorway leading from the hall; "Oh, close the door and make sure it locks, Bricu."

Bricu nodded as he made sure the door shut and locked. He gave it a good, solid tug to prove it.

"How long've yeh owned this buildin', Illi?"

The kal'dorei's voice echoed out from the room further in the dwelling.

"Not long. Few weeks. Few months. I had my financier organise it - Nether! - gnomes are useful for something, after all..."

The apartment consisted of a main living room with a hallway stretching off down further into the apartment. Rooms were visible off the hallway, with Illithias disappearing into the one via the closest door. The room Bricu found himself in had large north-facing windows, letting the sunlight stream in and holding a view of the Canal districts proper. Rungs sat in the southern wall, a trapdoor above that in the ceiling. The room had a small bed in the corner, a few storage chests and chests of drawers, and a few armour and weapon racks. It was functional disarray. Bricu followed Illi into the room she disappeared into.