The Alliance Salvaging And Procurement is throwing its nets out for able minded members to join!
Public displayed notice upon a few posts at the Stormwind City Harbour near the Alliance Salvaging And Procurement staging area, âThe Yardâ:
The Alliance Salvaging And Procurement company would like to publicly wish everyone serving the Alliance, a merry Winterâs Veil and a happy new year of adventures!
-Signed,
Jeremy S. Lochton, Director of the ASAP
The Alliance Salvaging And Procurement is up and recruiting once more!
Alliance Salvaging And Procurement welcomes you to a new year.
We will embrace the new times, and welcome new applicants. Once more, the books are open for recruitment and youâre welcome to take contact with ASAP for a little talk.
We will attend the soon announced Lunar Festival as benefactors to this great event.
Signed,
Jeremy S. Lochton
Director of Alliance Salvaging And Procurement
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He dug his hand into the warm, coarse sand and heaved it up, letting the grains slip through his claws as if an hourglass. The sand wouldâve burnt his hand if not for the gloves he wore. With a tentative prod of his thumb, he would aid the sand to escape his grasp, revealing small pieces of chitin and pebbles. Did not matter where in Uldum you traveled, you would see sand, but if you looked closer - you might see something else.
The Worgen chortled as he pushed himself up from the nice little seat that his backside had created. With a body straightening shake, loose sand would flee his suit and hopefully pouches too, leaving tools intact.
His green eyes scoured across the sand until he met the eyes of his personal, all awaiting further instruction. Lately, he had been more distant due to a large loss of supply and contracts thanks to the actions of the vile Gallywix and his contacts. He offered them a polite smile and give the sign to close in on a section of ruins rumored to hold an Azerite source.
Leaving in the wake of his group, a small sealed box whispering out to catch the weak-minded. Slithers of purple trying to flee the sealed box. It was an insult to the director as he huffed out, giving the box a last gaze - cursed equipment as a reward. The small box emanated of corruption so much that he had to seal and hide select items away till they were to depart. Maybe the titan constructs could find a solution to use this without risking oneâs mind.
The director slumped down into her dusty seat with a relieving sigh as his eyes wander along with the darkened office of Alliance Salvaging And Procurement, paperwork piling up. A solemn dancing light at his side, the room had once been more home than what it is now, storage. Boxes of documents, artifacts, trinkets, and other salvage had been accumulated over the years and locked up into the most secure room his old business had.
Slowly he peeled his gloves off, he spotted a box with a neatly folded letter, just perching at the top of one of his piles of documents - that was odd. He neatly packed away his gloves as he got up, letting his harness slide off with tools and satchels, landing with a muffled clang. He reached out for the letter first, unfolding the letter to read.
âDearest Director.
It saddens me that you went out without seeking business opportunities with me, or to hear if I had a request that I would like to have fulfilled. I have been spotting that your business has been more chaotic as of late while you were assigned to the Nightfall Brigade once more. I hope they treat you excellent there.
Do seek me out in the nearest future for a cup of tea and a business plan.
Yours,
Madam G.
P.s. Do bring more of your Gilnean Fudge.â
He folded the letter once more before taking the box - it was empty. He chuckled as he sniffed the wooden box to find traces of chocolate fudge before sealing the note inside the box, stowing it away.
Eyes of red glared in the night as they fell upon the closed door in anger. At the tiniest corner were a little Saurid trying to nibble away at some scribed defensive runes, trying to break the cycle of words that would be protecting the room.
With a furious growl, he would leap towards the Saurid, catching it, squeezing it in his claws till it would not wiggle anymore but let out a disembodied taunting voice.
âHek hek hek, Richmon cannot keep my treasure forever!â
âShut it, you annoying lizard!â
The little Saurid was limp in his hand now, and its message of taunting quiet even though its mission failed. Lochton would discard the Saurid as he would towards the warding runes, recarving them with his nails where the Saurid had been nibbling.
Administrative Office Report (AOR):
As documentation is filled out, Vera Sykes, as well as I have been offered a contract with Nightfall Brigade as ongoing Quartermasters. This is a report that is running behind schedule and will contain delayed information. The ASAP has been granted full contract of supplies and materials of the Brigade thus operating within the ranks of the said unit until further notice.
Note of upgrade: Ms. Paleford has requested shipping of pipes to fit a rain collection system. It has been approved.
Equipment prepared for the contract: Cargo-hauler.
Location: Keel Harbour, Gilneas.
Signed,
Director Jeremy S. Lochton.
Administrative Field Report (AFR):
During our assignment to the Nightfall Brigade contract, we see ourselves located at the Gilnean outpost of Bradensbrook. This has by no means been uneventful and must declare that further preparations will be in need for field operating missions. I, Jeremy S. Lochton, is the current contract and Quartermaster of the Nightfall Brigade serves under their unit as they proceed to fulfill their purpose.
ASAP will resume future operations outside contracts within the nearest time at hand. Returning to the Yard once this deployment has been completed.
Note: The Cargo-hauler could have been utilized fully in this mission if it were not for the overgrowth of said location, as well as the hostility of wild life.
Location: Bradensbrook, Valâsherah.
Signed,
Director Jeremy S. Lochton.
Administrative Field Report (AFR):
The Nightfall Brigade has been deployed at Feathermoon Stronghold, where we were able to utilize our time for a moment of respite before following through with the assigned orders.
ASAP in the field with the Brigade is limited to field support until further notice. Redeployment of equipment will be pending depending on our time at the current location.
Request: Delivery of the ASAP Modified Heavy Cargo Hauler to be deployed for future use in the field under the service of the Nightfall Brigade.
Location: Feathermoon Stronghold, Feralas.
Signed,
Director Jeremy S. Lochton.
Administrative Field Report (AFR):
Currently still stationed at Feathermoon Stronghold. The Nightfall Brigade has been utilizing its time at this location to handle certain threats that have loomed throughout the forest. Currently, members of ASAP is on standby with Mrs Sykesford located at Keel Harbour and me, available to assist at Feathermoon Stronghold.
Nightfall Brigade has due to complications of active Brigade duty, assigned an active Quartermaster within their own ranks. Their candidate shows promising ability to fulfill their need as we speak.
Contract: Future discussion of the contract is to be handled with Mr. Wilcox as the Alliance, Horde, as well as Neutral third-parties, have agreed on further cooperation in the current situation of the armistice and the shattered veil.
Note: I have been intercepted by a third-party contact in the delivery of correspondence from various clientele that will be in need of handling. The delivery, a Goblin gentleman, has been informed that further reaction will be held on our side (ASAP).
Location: Feathermoon Stronghold, Feralas.
Signed,
Director Jeremy S. Lochton.
The soothing waves climbed along the rocky beach as the moonlight bathed the surroundings in a pale hue, the rushing sounds of water breaking against the sounds of animals within the deep forest of Feralas, the trees and hills climbing high above the structures of Feathermoon Stronghold.
Secluded from Feathermoon, two young Night Elves were struggling to align a table, chair, and a lamp on the rocky surface - dragging, pushing, stumping the ground - it took them a few moments to stop them from being wobbly as they followed instructions given to them, topping up the table with a bowl of fruit and bread, as well as an uncorked wine. Their hard work was rewarded generously with a pouch of coins from the Director - they bowed thankfully as they left the man to himself at his little study.
The Director walked around the table for a few rounds as he read up on the received correspondence from the third-party messenger. Everything from receipts of suit purchase, materials, and rent to more official matters, such as the handling of salvaging tasks and recommendations. He stopped up with the last two letters. One was signed and sealed by the Alliance command, the other, scented.
He sat down in his chair, leaning back with the letters, sneering as he felt it slightly wobbly but it was within acceptable margins.
With a swift motion of his silvered letter opener, the seal of the official letter was broken, the wax crumbling off from the parchment as it was unfolded. His eyes glanced between the parchment and up to keep an eye on Feathermoon; seeing people walk around after their mission last night, one figure in a worse state than others but recovering. His eyes returned to the letter as he let out a sigh; another list was attached.
"To Director Jeremy Lochton,
the Alliance command thanks you for your services in the field during the recent events. We acknowledge that we now are within a different time with the official armistice, leaving work orders more spread among our allies as well as ourselves. We feel obliged to announce to you that your services could come in handy for more than just the Alliance forces.
We forward our recommendations to various units that could use additional support in the enclosed list.
With your current station in mind, you are of course obliged to uphold your own contracts."
The letter was signed with a flourished signature by a member of the Alliance command, most likely a desk position but Lochton didnât think further into that as he dug out the other letter.
It was oddly scented and the grain of the parchment felt refined, expensive for many. The letter was sealed with green wax which was a little more springy than the blue wax of the Alliance command, making it easier to peel off from the parchment, unrolling the message out on his desk.
âDearest Director,
I would like to thank you for procuring the latest order, the troll figurines were highly sought for by our newest client who was ecstatic to hear that they could carry a curse. They would be delighted to procure more curious items if our sources are able to obtain them.
After the shattering of the sky, these new clients have appeared before us a few times, making outrageous claims and business wishes. Of course, we couldnât deny them. These, âBrokersâ are curious beings.
I do hope that the Director is safe in these trying times. You are a hard man to contact, luckily if you read this, we found some that could track you down.
Signed,
Madam Goya
P.s. I seem to have run out of Gilnean chocolate fudge, I would be delighted if you could seek out a new box for our next meeting.â
Lochton chuckled softly as he folded the letter up, leaving it on the table as he reached for his wine, the scent of the letter still on his fingers as he leads his glass to his lips, taking a deep sip from the bordeaux red wine - bliss to finally have something more sophisticated in the field. His green eyes scanned at the people moving around the buildings inside Feathermoon, absentmindedly shifting a few dossiers on the table slightly as his mind was contemplating future actions for him, as well as the current predicament of his employees, and client.
A few hours passed, and the content of the bottle became less before he managed to clear the table of papers. Everything was put in folders and binders, one letter was slid into his pocket as he packed his bag, leaving the table empty except for the bottle, bowl, a glass, and a labeled binder; âZoey Hayes - Nightfall Brigadeâ.
With a firm knock on the wood, he made his decision. The Nightfall Brigade would not suffer a great loss as a successor had been found for his duty earlier, leaving him the man to spare. The new candidate is a brilliant woman able to handle the job that the brigade has to give. With recent events, the contract of the Alliance Salvaging And Procurement would be up for negotiation or termination, the answer being the latter. He had already been informed of Mrs. Sykesfordâs request for retirement with her partner - and of course, permitted it with his blessing.
He would order another of Alliance Salvaging And Procurementâs employees to collect his belongings from Keel Harbour and bring them to the Yard at Stormwind City. As plans rolled through his mind, he absentmindedly took out a pen and paper, attaching the parchment to the binder of Ms. Hayes with a message to be shared.
"To the members of the Nightfall Brigade, I inform you of the following:
The contract between the Nightfall Brigade and Alliance Salvaging And Procurement has reached its conclusion with the recent developments.
I would like to thank you all for your cooperation, and for welcoming ASAP as a service provider for the past many months. It is an experience that ASAP as well as its employees will remember. Connections have been made, and some built on with great results.
Thank you to Mr. John Wilcox for entrusting the resources and supplies of the brigade to the services of ASAP.
Alliance Salvaging And Procurement wishes the Nightfall Brigade all the best with their future endeavors, and we know our paths will cross again in the future. Thank you.
As for our successor, Ms. Zoey Hayes, we hold great hopes for you, and that you do not let the brigade spill all their resources in one mission.
Signed,
Director Jeremy S. Lochton, ASAPâ
Administrative Office Report (AOR):
As of today, our contract with the Nightfall Brigade has reached a conclusion. It has to lead up to an administrative change due to recent events, which has given the Brigade the opportunity to employ a Quartermaster within their own ranks. I, Jeremy S. Lochton, have seen and met this successor and believe she is able to fulfill the needs of the brigade.
As I write this report, I have accepted new employment within the ranks of The Light Watch Order, where Alliance Salvaging And Procurement will utilize its resources in cooperation with the Order against the current situation of the shattered sky, the Scourge, the Scarlet threat as well as rebuilding efforts. The developing goal is to take hand in their Quartermaster duties.
The Light Watch Order operates out of the town of Hearthglen within the northern lands of the Western Plaguelands.
Mrs. Sykesford has also relieved herself of the Nightfall Brigade contract and chosen to retire herself with her partner until she is suited to pack up her own duties once more.
Note of Interest: The Light Watch Order has managed to establish a portal network with connection to three locations that can utilize better handling of ASAP, as well as its clients.
Note of Development: Tristana has reported that she has almost completed a secondary cargo-hauler following my specifications.
Deployment of Equipment: I, Jeremy S. Lochton, have deployed the usage of the primary Modified Heavy Duty Cargo-Hauler.
Location: The Yard, Stormwind City.
Signed,
Director Jeremy S. Lochton.
A careful hand held onto the ivory hilt of the razorblade, letting the silvered blade slide against the grains of auburn facial hair with top precision, shaving off the unwanted beard, discarding the lumps of shaving foam into a bucket with a flick of their wrist as the process slowly revealed the close trim and shave that the man normally requested. The barberâs hands calmly massaging the skin as the trim is cut closer and crisper.
âSoo, Director, how is the current business going for you?â
The barber spoke softly as he trimmed the hairlines fine, scraping the blade from the residue of shaving foam.
âThe chapter has changed. By recommendation, I have sought to out a position with a new group to permit further development, as well as experiencing the curious usage of their resources.â
In one hand, the man rotated and inspected curiously what seemed to be a stone carrying markings of an unknown sort to him, his green eyes making a mental imprint of the runes as his thumb calmly strokes along with the markings of the stone which was given to him by a Quartermaster currently in service.
The auburn-haired man spoke calmly and in length about his current position and previous experiences, as well as the changes through them. A lot of the words alas went past the barber, unable to understand some of the words or the general meaning of what his customer was talking about, he just smiled as nodded as he finished up his job.
âI hear that you are on the look for new colors, as well, Director?â
A mirror was presented in front of the man, angled by the barber, he was able to see a job well done before being offered a warm cloth to drape over his face; the cloth was lightly scented. His customer, face covered, still adjusted the cuffs of his current dark blue suit as he gave a sharp nod, sending the cloth to the floor.
âI have requested an appointment with my tailor in an attempt to compose a suitable attire for my newly acquired position. In which I believe I may be running late for.â
The Director nodded matter-of-factly as he pushed himself out of the reclined seat, with a snappy move, he adjusted his suit. A swift hand deposited a few coins as payment for the trim and shave, neatly stacked and counted by its weight in his hand; a trick he had picked up in his service as a banker of the Gilnean City Bank.
A few steps further down the dirty streets of Stormwind City, a few refugees sat huddled up for company, the city had seen its glory days but now experienced being part refugee camp for other races, the Director passed the crowd with a nod and a drop of a few coins before he was on his merry way to where the tailor was located; a quaint shop with shelves up to the roofing beams with rolls of fabric in various colors, jars of buttons, fabric for bows and ties hanging from a ladder, and drawers of the tools to fulfill a tailorâs job.
The door opened with a soft creak, the idyllic sounds of precision work as he headed inside the shop was suddenly broken due to a new addition, a doorbell was sent ringing by the top of the door, to notify that there were potential customers at the door. His attention instantly turned towards the bell before he was startled by one of the tailors who with an apologetic motion lead him further inside the shop; a rather nervous Gnome sitting at the counter, eyes shifting over to the door and the tailor.
âHey there, Mr. L. I see you need some new threads to wear?â
The tailor walked around the Director as he was inspecting the poor condition of his current suit, which in the Directorâs defense had seen quite some use in the field with his previous employers. Fingers prodding as running masks, buttons missing, and a frayed collar.
âTsk tsk, Mr. L. What state your suit is in. It may be enchanted threads for your condition but does not make it indestructible. Will your order be the same?â
Lochton looked at the tailor with a smirk, knowing will the condition of his attire but of course, was not going to count against a professional who knows the situation of this poor outfit. His green eyes scanned the shelves for suitable fabrics and color combinations.
âI believe we are to go a bit unconventional than what we normally handle, Mr. Weathers. My current employment holds a different color scheme than what I am used to. We are talking white, grey, and golden threads. I believe you can obtain details of The Light Watch Order and their markings from the public office of Stormwind - though, I am to request a few suits made how my previous orders required themâ.
The tailor nodded calmly as he walked over to the door to shut it, locking the door after him before he turned around, smirking. This was a common procedure for this specific shop, and the Director knew it. The tailor called for his employees to find their tools of the trade, sending the nervous Gnome giddy as she called down behind the counter, stirring out a Goblin just taller than the Gnome by a few inches.
âI believe we can have the first part of your order ready by tomorrow, as for your other suits, are they to be delivered to The Yard?â
Lochton nodded carefully as he lifted his arm for the balancing Goblin to take his measurements, the chair wobbling under him as he reached to measure from the armpit to the wrist. The Gnome however utilizing Gnomish Engineering to elevate herself slightly too high for the customer, having to bow down to measure the gentlemanâs shoulders.
âI believe we should be able to make a combination fitting for your service, though you will have to get used to not wearing a suit while on official business thenâ
The tailor snickered as he inspected the Director, knowing full well that the man is more comfortable in a tailored suit than anything else but he is not known to let people down. His callous hand lightly inspected a selection of threads as chaos ensued between his Goblin and Gnome employees, lying tangled on the floor as her elevated boots had gone tangled in the Goblinâs measuring tape, earning a disapproving look from the owner of the shop.
âDonât worry, Mr. L. We should get to work quickly, you can handle your business in the city while we pick up information about your new employer, as well as get working on suitable attire for you.â
The tailor chuckled nervously while stroking the grey-ish white fabric as the door was shut again, leaving his staff still on the floor in a huddle, their customer trusting them with this order.
Administrative Office Report (AOR):
Currently having been settled within the town of Hearthglen, I have proceeded and succeeded to locate a location to set up a workshop. As we speak, I am awaiting the required permission to import equipment and utilities.
I seemingly arrived at ill timing from my previous venture to Stormwind City, as members of staff were to set out on a mission, leaving the needed personnel unavailable. One was so delighted in being introduced to a few members of the Order, some more quirky than others. I do believe there are a few individual examples that need to be kept an eye on.
Managed to catalog and map the town without being given the required tour but I hold no ill opinion about that - it was a refreshing stroll.
As we speak, I have requested assistance from a few acquaintances to assist in the shipment of equipment, as well as preparation for the workshop. They are on standby until tomorrow, where I have requested them to set up and we will handle the paperwork from thereon.
Deployment of Equipment:
1x Tinkerâs Adjustable Workbench.
1x Tinkerâs Adjustable Seat.
3x Toolboxes of various selection of tools issued to the trade of Tinkers.
1x Artificerâs Welding Kit.
1x Box of Protective Goggles.
1x Box of Protective Gloves.
1x Box of Protective Garments.
1x Crate of Assorted books.
1x Remote Experimental Assistant (R.E.A).
1x Flying Vehicle: ASAP Modified Heavy Cargo Hauler.
Location: Hearthglen, Western Plaguelands, Northern Eastern Kingdoms.
Signed,
Director Jeremy S. Lochton.
A blanket of the dark blue sky slowly draped the slumbering town, covering the land in the idyllic silence of the incoming night, moonlight bathing the active town as clouds lazily passed above. Guards below making their route among the structures, some tending to the lights of the streets, and others making sure the walls were safe - all were doing their part except a few that had been reassigned by an auburn-haired man, instructing them to be on standby; four guards kept their eyes to the sky, waiting, chatting, laughing.
Within short moments of what could be a distant dog growling, clouds were pierced by three figures, mechanical vehicles of flight, their roaring engines threatening to shatter the silence as they were inbound for the town of Hearthglen. Beams of light projected brightly to highlight trees nearby or structures to give the pilots a better view during their descend. One larger carrier and two smaller vehicles, each rumbling machine carrying their own cargo strapped beneath or upon them.
The lid of the silvered timepiece clicked shut with a gentle press of his thumb as he exited the sawmill. The grass giving way for each footfall, crumbling beneath his refined dark leather shoes as he made his way towards the designated drop-point; eyes scanning the sky whilst adjusting his attire. Always at his side were his clipboard; and tonight holding the manifest of his request with his stamped permit at the top of the papers - in case questions should arise.
Turbines of engineering power roared as the vessels made their descend, sending leaves spinning, grass waving, and dust fleeing as they approached the ground, professionally unhooking their primary cargo first before finding available clearance for a landing. Each vehicle finding a piece of ground to land on within the walls of the town, the largest finding its position on the road near the sawmill, blocking off the local traffic for the time being before being relocated to another position. The three well-kept machines of shipping and transportation all bearing the markings of an Alliance company with crossed tools and four letters; A.S.A.P.
Lochton nods slowly as he works his way through the manifest, each item checked off as it gets located within the crates or deposited as the primary cargo. With each line struck off the list, he hears the footsteps of the pilots and guards carrying away the items accounted for, though one set of shoes approaching him instead of carrying his share, not receiving much attention from the Director.
âMr. Wizzleblast, your shipment is lateâ.
âHey boss, no, âHello, how are ya. Was the flight okay?â just straight to the deal, eh?â
The Goblin wrung his gloves nervously as the cargo was unloaded, eyes scanning to make sure everything was there as well as he could; looking down at his own manifest written on creased, double-folded, stained paper. At times the greasy Goblin would show a yellowed smile at one of the guards just to be stared back making him wish he was hiding behind his piloting goggles while he was trying to pick at words to say to his employer.
âIt wasnât uneventful, boss, ya know people still donâ trust us⌠Business ainâ safe for everyone -⌠I better get a hazard fee!â.
Wizzleblast reached for his hipflask. As he tilted it to his dry lips to take a quick sip, it was swiped away by his employer. His longing eyes seeing his liquid courage of expensive booze disappear into a passing box of protective gear as it was hauled away by a young Pandaren.
âH-hey⌠I need that!â
âNo, Mr. Wizzleblast, you do not require any alcoholic substances until you make your return to the Yard, after that, you may retrieve a bottle of liquorâ.
The Director spoke with a tone of fact before offering his payment to the Goblin who eagerly began rummaging through the pouch, coins jingling and rattling between his greedy green fingers while Lochtonâs eyes were still following the cargo as a larger workbench was carried away by two guards. On top of the table, a female Goblin sat fiddling with her goggles as she tried to get the attention of the hard-working men. As the table was carried away, you could hear her comments and giggles in the distance.
âYa both so strong⌠Ya can haul my cargo any dayâ.
The manifest was precisely filled out as the boxes were all marked to indicate that the items had been received. There was only one last task as the remaining items of the shipment were carried inside, the largest part of the order; the largest of the three vehicles.
Parked next to the sawmill, its landing gear making an almost unnoticeable indent in the road, was the larger of the three flying vehicles; next to the two others, it would tower majestically in its engineering brilliance but why stop there? This one was heavily modified by the company, Alliance Salvaging And Procurement, built to carry a heavy payload and still remain stabilized in bad weather. Along its side on a recently new paint job was their company logo as well, with the four letters marked across the crest; A.S.A.P.
The shipping staff which consisted of two Goblins and a Pandaren offered their farewell to the guards before looking towards the largest of flying vehicles, noticing their Director climbing into the cockpit, his face distorting for a moment of discomfort, which sent Wizzleblast wincing, he knew he had forgotten something.
âThank you, to the three of you, for handling my delivery request. I plan to set up a workshop in Hearthglen where I can accept and handle smaller cases by this of the people from the Order, the citizens of the town, as well as cases from the head-office. Do take notice to forward the message that transportation to, and retrieval of documents from this location will be necessary from now onâ.
Lochton said with calculated words, nodding respectfully at the three employees before observing them walking towards their own rides home, the remaining two flying machines. The two Goblins offered a thumbs up from their own cockpits while the Pandaren seemed more at the spirit, standing up in her seat to wave at him while trying to pull a pair of goggles over her eyes - he rewarded her with a smile before aiming his attention back at the instruments of the controls, there were greasy fingerprints, this was not acceptable.
Administrative Office Report (AOR):
I have been introduced to multiple members of The Light Watch Order, and gone through their process of ceremonial handling, making my position official within their ranks. I hold a belief that this âOrderâ runs a larger budget upon the execution of their ceremony, as well as operating within Hearthglen. I am to believe there are further opportunities that can be embraced.
My services were offered to procure a certain ingredient in an attempt to further development within the âOrderâ. Their mender, a troll, requested assistance with locating and capturing amphibians that were to be used for their healing rituals. Quite peculiar to experience such a request but as an official Quartermaster, I sought it fitting to offer my services.
Additionally to add that the town of Hearthglen has chosen to experiment with the idea of operating a hosting establishment to serve drinks once a week.
Note of Development: The town of Hearthglen now has a fully operational Tinkerâs workshop. This facility is to be utilized for the âOrderâ, as well as Alliance Salvaging And Procurement.
Location: Hearthglen, Western Plaguelands, Eastern Kingdoms.
Signed,
Director Jeremy S. Lochton.
Administrative Incident Report (AIR):
Name: Jeremy S. Lochton.
Title/Rank: Director, Quartermaster.
Date: 3rd day of the 3rd month.
Location: Hearthglen, Western Plaguelands.
Date of Incident (s): 2nd day of the 3rd month.
Location of Incident (s): Vicinity of Tyrâs Hand, Eastern Plaguelands.
Description: During service in the field for the current contract against hostiles identified as loyalists, as well as hostiles identifying as members of the Scarlet Crusade. Took injury during close combat skirmish; sword strike of steel at the waist, gracing by an unknown caliber bullet at upper right arm.
Treatment: Medical attention has been offered and accepted from the menders of The Light Watch Order in the field. Later confirmed transference of curse from weapon causing injury. Unknown curse seem to have been handled by a member of staff.
Current Status: Recovery, Alive.
Signature:
Director Jeremy S. Lochton.