Part 1 - A Scroll

“You’re late.”

“Am I?” the voice asked coyly.

The ranger sighed, folding her arms in annoyance and leaning against the ivy covered building. “Stop playing games. What did you find out?”

“Me? I’ve always played games. You though… have to say it’s a b-“

“Do you have something or not?” she snapped, turning to face the empty air around her. Fairbreeze Village sat quietly in the distance, the morning light just barely breaking through the surrounding woods.

“Depends. Do you have the coin?” he said, appearing in the shadows a few feet behind her as if out of thin air. She removed a small pouch from her belt and held it out to her side, jingling the contents. “Seems a bit less than we discussed” he said, frowning slightly.

“You’ll get the rest when I find out if the information is worth the price” she replied, tossing the purse towards him. The man caught it easily in one hand and, after a quick inspection, tucked it inside his shirt. Their eyes locked for a moment, the fel-green glow shining all the brighter in the twilight. She turned away quickly, obviously caught off guard but pretending to survey the area. “Get on with it then”.

The elf snickered and brushed dark red hair from his face. “Look for a warlock by the name of Aora. Might be a false lead but it’s the best I could get. That girl’s house is locked down tight after a few “visitors” from a week ago” He said with a knowing smirk. “She’s tough to tail though. Tried following but you know the finger-wiggling types. Used a spell of some sort and vanished on me.”

Kysara mouthed the name to herself, adhering it to memory. “Anything else?”

“At the moment, no. But I’ll keep an ear to the ground. See what else can be dug up.”

She nodded. “If anything of interest happens, send word.” The ranger turned and started towards her Hawkstrider when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She froze, fighting the initial instinct to draw a blade on him.

“My price may go up...”

“Coin won’t be an issue” she responded coldly, eyeing his hand from the corner of her eye. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as he leaned in close to her ear and whispered.

“Coin won’t be what I’m after, Kys…”

She jerked her shoulder free and spun around only to find he had already melted back into the shadows.

Part 2 - A Shadow

“How goes the hunt?”

“Stalking the stalker you mean?” she answered with a smirk, using the rogue’s words when she finally tracked him down. “Yes, I found him.”

“And?” the voice asked amidst the soft chime of coins being counted.

“He believes Vithrial is behind the attack on the convoy, though he has no proof and keeps his thoughts to himself.” She stretched her legs out before her and leaned back on the mossy rock. The river cut through the stone before them in its ongoing path to the ocean, the charred remains of a vale and broken runestone at their backs.

“So you got the answer you were after?” he asked, looking over as he stashed the remainder of his pay into a small pack.

“Not really…” she sighed. “I told him what I could, which may have been too much, but everything seems to be falling into place. I know the rest of the pieces are connected, but this final one…” she trailed off.

“This your way of asking for help?” he smirked, moving up the rocks and sitting next to the ranger. He barely managed to get an arm around her waist before she shoved him aside.

“No. Not where he’s concerned at least. You’re good, but not that good.” She smiled slightly, watching him from the corner of her eye. “There’s just something deeper going on here. Someone is pulling the strings. Just a matter of pinpointing who.”

“Pfffft. And you’re better at it?” he snorted, a mix of hurt and annoyance.

“No. But this is my problem, not yours. No gold is worth doing what I do right now. Trust me…”

The two sat in silence for a time, the deathly calm of the woods hanging thick in the air. No sound was heard say for the rushing waterfall nearby and the occasional scurrying rodent. In the distance sat the shattered ruins of Goldenmist Village.

“Why do you always come here?” he asked breaking the stillness, arms folded and a slight scowl still clinging to his lips. The sudden sound and question itself startled her.

“…to remember.” she whispered.

“Remember? The hell is there to remember?!” he hissed, standing abruptly and staring down at her. “You don’t remember a damn thing. You haven’t been the same since the scourge came rolling through.”

She tensed, her eyes fixed on the ruins. “Everything has changed, or haven’t you noticed. Even you.”

“YES! But people survive. They move on. They make due. You? We thought you were dead. For months you were gone. I had to find out otherwise from some damn lackey Farstrider passing through the area. And what do I find when I tracked you down? That you’re tagging along after some damn Mage like a dog.”

He reached down and grabbed her arm, jerking her upright.

“I’ve held my tongue for too long. Its payment time, Kys, and I want answers. So let’s start with the Mage. Or better yet, the order you’re running with now. Do you have any idea what they say they’re like? Or what level of insanity that “Knight” has reached? They’ve been EXILED from Silvermoon. They follow the same Prince who attacked his own city not long ago. Does that mean nothing to you?!”

She remained silent, still staring off into the distant ruins. The red-haired elf grew more impatient.

“No answer then? Fine. On to the Mage. Lyear, was it? Did he cast some sort of spell that you’re at his beck and call? Is it blackmail? Those things can be fixed you know. You don’t have to live that way. He is the one that brought you to that mad woman’s order. Just say the word and he’ll be no more.”

Silence.

“The hell is wrong with you?” he sneered in barely a whisper, loosening his grip. He paused, staring hard at her as the gears in his head turned. An uncomfortable chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke, “No way… there’s no possible way… you—“

She ripped her arm free and grabbed him by the collar, drawing him close eyes ablaze and teeth bared. “SHUT UP! You speak of things you know NOTHING about. Were it not for him that day, I’d be worse than dead. I’d be living out my existence as the rest of these beasts” she hissed, swinging her arm in an arc around her toward the mindless scourge that still plagued the area.

“You mean like your sister” he spat, dagger meeting its mark. A loud crack sounded as a fist met his jaw.

“Say it again.”

“…like. Your. Sister.” he growled as she took another swing. Crimson dripped down his chin into a neatly trimmed beard. “She may as well be dead the way she is. But then you haven’t seen her in years either have you?” He lifted his arms and unhooked the ranger’s hands from his shirt before smoothing it out. His hand touched his lip, snickering to himself as he saw blood.

“You know nothing” she stammered, shaking and flexing her fingers as she headed towards her Hawkstrider.

“You’re playing with fire, Kys.” He called after her. “I just don’t want to see you get burned.”

Part 3 - Self

Have I really changed so much? Fallen so far? I still fight. Fight where others won't… perhaps for that I am a fool.

She sighed, resting her chin on her hands as she stared out her window to the city streets below. The sun had long vanished and the lanterns were set aglow in shimmers of gold. She looked down at her gauntleted hand, spatters of now dried blood strewn across it. Damn him, she thought, shoving herself away from the window and moving to her chair.

The days were wearing on her. Always armed, on guard, suspicious of any passerby… it was draining. The night before she had relayed her report to the Mage, hoping for some words to clear her muddled thoughts. To give her purpose. All she found was annoyance and requests that put her more on edge. Perhaps that is why she went to see him again…

“Sister”

She stood, grabbing the chair and throwing it across the room with a growl. It crashed loudly against the wall, startling one of her sleeping hatchlings and sending it flying into the air in a panic. The satisfying release was quickly replaced with regret as she tried to calm her pet. Finally able to coax it down, she spent a time whispering sweet nothings until it curled up on her shoulder with a stretch and a yawn. She couldn’t help but smile.

“I need to clear my head. Maybe a night off will help. It's been too long since I've been able to just… live” she said to the small red hawk, giving it a scratch under the chin. Live, she pondered as she set her pet down on the bed and began to unhook her armor, setting it in the corner. Even here, alone in this small room, she felt naked and vulnerable. Why? She held the last piece of mail in her hands, studying each knick carefully as if trying to remember the battle it was received. Warily, but with a sense of triumph, she set it down with the rest of her gear.

She went to her closet, a smile creeping further into her face and she examined all of her dresses and shirts with the same detailed eye. One of her other hawks had awoken by now and was watching her curiously, tilting its silver scaled head. She would have noted not to train that one as a guard if it could sleep through almost anything, but her attention was elsewhere at that moment.

She eyed her usual leather pants and blue vest, tapping her lips in thought. No. She always wears these… comfortable, but mostly in case she needed to flee or fight. Her eyes wandered further, eventually stopping at a navy blue and gold dress. It was perfectly made, with silver trim and detail work. She recalled then that the Mage had made it as a gift to her years earlier. Why have I never worn this? She pulled it from the closet and brushed it off before holding it up to herself.

“What do you think?” she asked. The silver hawk cocked its head again before yawning and curling into a small ball to sleep.

---------------------------

The air was cool when she stepped out into the streets. She instantly felt lighter, freer, though anything would be after becoming accustomed to the weight of mail. She hesitated a moment. What if…? Her legs moved despite the voice in the back of her head, unconsciously resting her hand on the hilt of her dagger as if assuring herself. Besides… who would recognize her dressed as this?

The streets were full of life. Some merchants still hocking their wares as others finished closing up shop. Lovers walked hand in hand and a few children stormed the streets nearly knocking people over, most likely making their way homeward to avoid a mother’s wrath. She laughed a bit, letting her mind wander to years past when she and her friends would do the same. One was particularly apt at getting into trouble.

A loud roar of laughter could be heard in the nearby Wayfarer’s Rest. Always curious, and needing of a drink, she wandered in. It was a full crowd tonight, full of adventurers, merchants and lesser nobles. All kinds of folk were gathered, sharing drinks and tales. She made her way through the group, evoking a drunken whistle or two, and offered a seat at the bar by some kind older man. His smile reminded her of her father.

A few too many bourbon’s later, she said her farewell’s and exited towards the Bazaar. Late into the night now, the city lights shone brightly and the red stained windows that lined the area glowed as if on fire. The stars moved slowly overhead, dancing flecks of light in a pure black sky. It was rare she saw the city at night, and she couldn’t help but think how truly beautiful it was. Maybe he was right. Maybe her people were not so broken as she believed all this time.

“Milady… are you well enough to walk?” asked a dark-haired elf as he approached, nose wrinkling at the scent of alcohol. She turned toward him blinking her eyes.

“Lady?” she sputtered, falling into a giggle fit when she realized he was addressing her.

“Please milady, it is unbecoming of a young woman to guffaw like this in public. Lets get you to an inn.” He said offering his hand. “I can smell the drink on you from twenty yards away.”

She stopped, looking serious for a moment. “Wine. Wine is much sweeter.” she said with a smile, the statement making sense to her at least.

He grumbled and went searching through his pack producing a Bloodthistle leaf. “Chew on this then. At least it will clear your senses some.” She took the leaf and looked it over curiously. She had them before, but not that often. The Mage certainly enjoyed it enough. She twirled the small stem between her fingers, making the leaf spin round and round, amusing herself as the man looked on almost impatiently. She rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to blow a raspberry before popping it into her mouth. She stifled another laugh as the man grinned and leaned in close.

“You have twenty-four hours before the poison takes full effect. Much longer than that and… well, you’ll have to find out won’t you. You will deliver the half of the scroll your Imperator holds to this mailbox here. Do this, and you’ll be given instructions for a cure.”

Kysara stared at him blankly before holding her sides laughing again, nearly losing her balance this time.

“Lets hope you remember this come morning” he said with a frown, summoning a voidwalker to his side before disappearing down an alley.

She finally calmed, tears in her eyes and sides hurting. She hadn’t laughed so much in years. Wiping her eyes, she smoothed her dress and continued on her path through the Bazaar, breathing in what was left of the night. She smiled slightly and began humming to herself a sweetly sorrowful dirge.

“Sin'dorei… Shindu fallah na…”

She crossed the archway into Murder Row and made her way up the hill. A few drunkards were out cold at the back door of another tavern. Bottles and mana crystals littered about them.

“Anar'alah belore… Shindu fallah na…”

Another archway, this one leading back towards the square. She could see her darkened window in the distance. Two guards stood at the side of the road talking, glancing her way for only a moment before returning to their conversation. She looked away as she passed, the fel-green glow of their eyes sending a shiver down her back. Finally reaching the stairs, she carefully climbed towards her room, the humming slowed by labored steps.

As she opened the door and stepped inside, her faithful little red flew over and happily reclaimed his spot on her shoulder. She gave him a light pat and locked the door behind her, surveying the small room. The chair remained overturned. The worn mail armor still piled in the corner. The dried blood.

“Shindu Sin'dorei…” she whispered, leaning against the door as she slid down to the floor, weariness and drink finally overtaking her. The small dragonhawk bumped its head against her chin and chirped, looking for attention, but not even the small creature could wake her.

You fool.


(( Extra Tidbit ))