| abstract | - The world is full of fine lines... grey areas as it were. There is very little that can be colored starkly black or white. There is a fine line between an assasin and a bounty hunter. Both kill for money. One mans good is another mans evil. Everyone deserves to die for something.... some more than others. Firth had survived as a bounty hunter for so long because he followed three simple rules: Never bite off more than you can chew, never kill anyone for free, and you cant spend the bounty if your dead. Technically, forsaken proved the last rule wrong, but Firth didnt want to be dead or forsaken. Two of his three three rules were on the virge of being broken today, and that didn't bode well. He found himself, much to his displeasure, seated in front of Baron Vardus. The Baron was one of the high muckety mucks within the crime organization known as the Syndicate. The Syndicate was a bit like the plague. Big, spread out all over the place, and out of control. They had their hands into all sorts of things, and had no qualms about killing anyone who got in their way, or didn't do their bidding. His presence here had been at the behest of three muscle bound goons who had informed him the Baron wished to see him, and made it clear no was not an option. The Baron had not bothered with any formalities. Once Firth had been shown to his chair, the Baron had gotten right to the point. "I have a bounty I wish you to collect hunter." He had thrown one of those new fangled Gnomish "pictures" into Firth's lap. "Her.... I want her dead, and I want it done quickly." It was a picture of a youngish looking forsaken girl. "Her name is Krelle.... she can usually be found in Booty Bay." Bounty Hunters were Azeroth's trash collectors. They did the dirty jobs that others were either too weak or too prissy to tackle. If the law men couldn't coral their perpetrator, they put a bounty on him... "dead or alive." They could have left the "or alive" part out, as generally everyone was happier if all he brought in was a head. Less complications. If a jilted lover was a bit over the top, she would accuse him of a crime and put a price on her former lover's head.... teach him to step out on her. If a business man was unable to compete, he would dig up some dirt on his competition and then turn the hunters loose on them. Everyone deserved to die for something.... some more than others. Firth didn't worry too much about the whys. If the price was right, the target was good as dead. Let the gods separate the guilty from the innocent at judgement day. But you had to be alive to spend your bounty. This target had plenty enough reasons to die. She cut a wide swath. He knew, because survival in this business meant knowing who was a nobody and who was a somebody. She was a somebody. A high muckety muck in the Grey Tiger Tong. The Tong must be making life difficult for the Syndicate, and they had decided it was time to send a very loud message. They had also decided he was to be the messenger. Guess they didn't want to dirty their own hands.... after all, bounty hunters were expendable scum... or so the mantra went. He knew if he killed the girl, no matter how large the bounty, he would not live to enjoy it.... the Tong was not known for turning the other cheek. Firth looked up as the Baron and smiled.... "Thanks for the offer Baron, but I think I will pass on this one...." The Baron's reaction was quick and to the point, he backhanded Firth with his mail glove. "Perhaps, Mr. Hawk you will reconsider.... I would hate for my associates to have to show you how important this to me..." Firth looked at the three goons, and had no doubt they would love nothing more than "convincing" him to do as the Baron wished. Sometimes the path of least resistance is the way to go. Firth looked up at the Baron and smiled. "Ok Baron, I see your point. I will take the job." "Good" said the Baron, "I hoped you were smarter than you looked. You have two weeks to get this job done and bring me her head. Should you fail, the next meeting we have will be considerably less cordial." Firth rose to his feet and nodded at Baron Vardus. "I understand." He turned and walked away. "Well Firth" he thought to himself. "This is a fine mess you find yourself in. Everyone deserves to die for something.... Some more than others. I wonder how much the Tong would pay me for the Baron's head...."
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