Notice of Warrant of Arrest for: Rimeshard, Rilennia "Riley" (RP)

Moon Guard
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Notice of Warrant of Arrest for: Rimeshard, Rilennia “Riley”
Issued by: Lordaeronian Bureau of Justice and State Security Enforcement
Authorized by: REDACTED
Date of issue: REDACTED
Desired respiratory state: Sentient functions and physical structure intact - subject is technically a member of the Ebon Blade
Reward: Yes - Fifteen thousand coin weight in gold or equivalent currency/exchange medium

Crimes: Abuse of the state of neutrality; operating as a non-state hostile actor, smuggling, tax and duty evasion, unauthorized leyline integrity breach (charged on behalf of Kirin Tor representative, request to deliver subject into Kirin Tor custody: denied, request to transfer subject to another criminal justice track: denied, request to not disassemble subject before trial by combat: approved), unlawful entry into the nation of Lordaeron with malicious intent.

Notes: A number of legal technicalities prevent this sentence from being one of summary termination of sapience. This subject has abused natural magical processes, sullied the name of the Ebon Blade to violate the sovereignty of Lordaeron, and defrauded the people of Lordaeron.

Lordaeronian Bureau of Justice and State Security Enforcement
Signed And Issued: Executor Sir Leondras Rommal and [REDACTED]

OOC DISCLAIMER: This is consensual rp, and all players involved agreed to this post. For ooc questions please feel free to contact Banshih or Megalothymia. To coordinate rp regarding this warrant, please contact Megalothymia. This wanted poster can be found in Horde territories, as well as neutral locations like Booty Bay. Additionally, one or two posters would curiously find their way into Stormwind.

This rp is a part of the Dance Of The Dead event: Dance Of The Dead - Oct 21st & 22nd, 2021 (RP & RP-PVP)

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((RILEY HOW COULD YOU?! Mirch is very Dad Disappointed in you, abusing neutrality. Shame!))

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Zaria slumped in her office chair immediately as she looked over the flyer.

“Another one!?” She said with an exasperated shout which caused the dog that rested beside her to jump up from their rested position.

“Wait, she was pretending to be neutral? Well…” Zaria shrugged. “That one’s not a surprise, actually.” She bobbed her head, and sat herself up. “And the whole ‘turn them over ourselves’ bit was apparently ‘morally questionable’.” Zaria scowled at the hound beside her for a moment, but pet his head all the same.

“Alright Chester…” She said to the dog as she scrolled up the flyer, and offered it to the dog who took it up in his maw. “Bring this to Riley. We’ll make some arrangements with her. Tion gave Selena some good advice but - I’ll handle it this time.” She grunted. And thusly, the hound took off in search of Riley as Zaria rubbed her temples.

“Citrine Eagle witness protection program.” She hummed.

“Yeah? No. Yeah?” She shrugged, and shook her head. “Not in the budget.”

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Quiet days were a dime a dozen for Riley more often than not, especially traipsing through the streets of Stormwind on a lazy afternoon such as the one she found herself lulling through. She hummed tunelessly to herself, her metallic faceplate resting atop her forehead like a pair of unused, but close at hand engineer’s goggles; half-on, half-off - a suitable visible representation for her usual line-swapping modus – half here, half there. Half Alliance, half Horde. At least – on any given day, prior to her unspoken re-resurrection. Being alive-undead-alive was – difficult, to say the least, and the Blade having repossessed both her amnesty and her completely legally acquired artifacts made her typical marketplace haunts difficult. Then again, when you aren’t dead anymore, you aren’t really allowed in Acherus anymore either, are you?

Sure, the Brewfest market had gone off without a hitch, but her scheming and planning that usually took place around this holiday season in order to clutch fingers around the rarities people were willing to barter for promised power was now – slightly more difficult.

… Miss Winford had blinked at her with such reproach.

She wondered if others stared with the same disgusted curiosity.

Her thoughts dissipated as she reached her destination. Almond pale-gold eyes, rife with the uncontrolled Light that wracked her body, paused as she combed over the usual suspects’ board - a quick bounty was often picked up here and there to work out her usage and training of her Radiant practice – not to mention a happy Field Marshal with the coin brought in – made the treks worth it. She paused as an unfamiliar script lashed angrily across gnarled, hammered-in parchment, bearing—

Her name.

The smallest drop of blood was drawn from Riley’s tightly-bitten lip as she stared at the sneering figure, illustrated and posted with finality above her title. Was that really her? How long ago was this captured? She hadn’t always looked this – angry? Indignant? Hollow? The half-elf seethed at herself, at her prior life’s actions, at her callous disregard for common sense and safety. Not with the cognizance for what lead to the arrest warrant, of course; that was long past mourning, as she figured that would be coming eventually, long after she’d made her final exit and True Death long enough to not be missed – but second chances such as the one Daniel and Shindo had fought for have a way of completely obliterating the most well-thought plans. Her father had always warned her that everyone has a plan until they’re struck with a sword, but she hadn’t expected this particular blade to cut quite so deeply.

It was a shame, she mused. The Eagles were finally growing on her.

Tearing down the poster in a panic would just draw more attention to herself. Instead, Riley slipped the faceplate – recognizable to anyone who knew the Malphur name and Path – fully from her face and tucked it into her enchanted Jar of Innumerable Things – to raise her hood around her stunted ears, shrouding her face once more. She strode lazily, with the same careful weighting and uncaring pathing, down the cobbles and to the gryphon roost, where a long, long flight back to Talongrab waited.

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Persefani went through the outstanding warrants and put a call out on this Riley Rimshard. She smirked once she got some basic information. She hung the wanted poster right next to Ashefeathers, the one she drew all over with the stick figures before. "Lovely"

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((I just want you guys to know I love the art and reading these.))

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(Thank you! It is a pleasure to bring back rp to the forums and to have such a great reception to it. You are more than welcome to do your own rp posts as well :slight_smile:

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Flamingo-shaped pool floaties, pineapple cocktails, bikini-wearing hostesses… There was only so much relaxation a Goblin could take, and Eddy had reached his limit. In fact, he’d spun overtime on the vacation wheel to the point where time COST money. Horrific!

Therefore, Eddy locked up his house on Easy Street, set the mook alarm to maim, donned his fabulous, feathered hat, and sauntered down to the corporate offices. If he was lucky, he’d find one of his cohorts rakin in the profits and welcoming Eddy into the scheme. If not…

Dust. His desk was covered in it. Cobwebs and spiders, too. The whole marketing wing was like he’d opened a looted, Vyrkul tomb. Minus the dead Vyrkuls, of course. That would have been overly weird, even for Flashbang. A shame. Instead, all that greeted him was a fresh stack of arrest warrants.

“Arrest warrants?” He lifted the top page. Rilennia Riley Rimeshard. What a mouthful. Must be a bard with a name like that. He twisted his dead toward the open door, where a pitiful looking peon was doing a pitiful job of sweeping the floor. “Hey, you mooks. Don’t youz guys know the difference between sales an SECURITY!?” He shook the piece of paper. “This is for the bruisers. We can’t market dis sorta thing.”

“Eh, blow it outcha tailpipe, Eddy,” replied the peon. “We ain’t paid nuff ta sweep floors, letalone de-liverin mail. Take it yaself, ya goldbrickin’ Exec!”

“Sweepin?” Eddy’s scowl screwed his face into a knot. “Dat what it’s called? Looks more like you’re paintin wits dust insteada cleaning.” He waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Get outta he-yahs. You’re fi-yahd!”

“With pleasure,” the peon said as he threw the broom to the floor. “You’ll be hearin from my union rep, Eddy. Ever since Boss Fly disappeared, dis place has gone down the toilet.”

“Whatever,” Eddy said, turning his attention to the stack of warrants. There were several, all written in script typical of the Forsaken. Same hand, too it seemed. The rewards caught his attention, all kingly sums. He scratched the five-day stubble gracing his chin. Surely there was a way Flashbang could turn profits from these things. An idea formed and his eyes brightened.

“Hey, pal,” Eddy said, turning back toward the door. The peon had yet to leave the hallway. Smart. Must have sensed a deal. “Wanna make some coin before ya go?”

“Depends on the sum,” the peon said. “And I’m still callin my rep, Eddy. Dat ain’t changed.”

“Sure, pal,” Eddy said. “Do whatcha gotta do.” He handed the stack of warrants to the peon. “I need ten copies of each made and delivered to my sales reps. One gold for each copy. And tell em to meet me here yesterday, got it?”