There's An App For That
Rating: K

Once again the demons had attempted to breach their holdfast. Advisor Sevel thanked the Spirits for the many abled shamans that now inhabited the caves. He, himself, still suffered from the injuries he had acquired from storming the Dark Portal close to a year ago, and was such unable to participate in the fighting.

Even though his body was frail he still possessed a keen intellect which he exercised daily when scoping out the possible attack locations and rescue missions all over the Broken Isles. The Farseer himself had said that Sevel had been invaluable to the cause.

Then again, the Farseer wasn't exactly the sharpest weapon in the bunch, being a troll of all things.


Ah, the aforementioned troll was making his way towards the draenai, clutching a slip of paper in his large, three-fingered hand.

"Yes?" Sevel answered pleasantly.

"Who approved dis mission?" the troll spat angrily.

The paper was being waved in front of his face and Sevel plucked it from the troll's hands and unraveled it to read. The paper held a report from Skywall, where one of the champions had been sent to attempt to secure the aid of the Windlord. According to the report, the feat was proving difficult but not yet deemed impossible. That was good news.

The troll's question, however, was not. Was it a test, perhaps? Sevel blinked a few times, attempting to get a read on the irate shaman.

He cleared his throat.

"Ah, well… You did, Farseer," he supplied as delicately as he could, but knew he had failed as soon as the red eyes opposite him narrowed in suspicion.

"Ah did not," he sneered. "Ah been in Dalaran for t'ree days now, mon. Returned jus' now."

Sevel blinked again.

"I assure you the order came from you yesterday." He walked towards the large map, bending down to retrieve a large tome. He flicked through it, and finding the page he was looking for, showed it to the troll.

At the bottom of the page were the mission details listed neatly – as Sevel was meticulous about that – and beside them were the date and the scratchy signature of the Farseer.

"Ah…" the troll started. "How?"

Sevel considered the possibility of the shaman simply having too much to drink and forgetting his whereabouts, but that seemed unlikely, even for a member of the Horde.

"I simply don't know, Farseer. Perhaps there are two of you?" he smiled. Or maybe the troll had mastered the art of using a device to communicate over long distances? But no, Sevel though, such a thing was simply impossible.

A/N: I live! But, playing WoW has been sparse lately, due to real life. Still, thanks for the support guys!