The cement is hard, cold, uncomfortable, even through the layers of robe folded beneath her head. It should be the sort of discomfort she finds solace in, so close to the dirt and stone. Through it's rumblings she once heard whispers, unintelligible, but it was always enough just to hear the Voices. The Speaker once taught her how to listen after feeling the vibrations of the obsidian stones in communion, but now there was nothing the crypt floors could give to her but their silence. She breathed out softly as she lay there, unable to sleep, unable to dream. Moving the fabric of her robes, she now pressed her cheek up against the dirty grout and stone and halted her breath, trying to glean a sound. A voice, a mere word.
The silence mocked her.
In a fit, she threw her robes against the crypt wall. The nearby torchlight flickered it's dissapointment at her as the cloth slid uselessly down the cold stone. Silently, she cursed the Abyss Child who gave her this fear and made her run from what she knew. She cursed the inkling of mercy she felt that stopped her from binding the Child to the altar those nights ago. She had purpose, she had desires, she had a clear conscience. It was because of Sleeping One that she was here, doing the bidding of arrogant warlocks that her Speaker would have never suffered to live! She was neither a Twilight, a Seeker of truth, an Acolyte ushering the great sundering of the world as it so surely deserved...
Anisse was a failure.
Clenching her teeth, she would not allow a flow of tears, by the Abyss, no. Feeling the coming pressure of tears anyway angered her, feeling her eyes moisten. This was not what she would become. Her eyes flickered over to the crate where she kept her treasures, now decorated with a lock. Within the locked space came the comfort that something was hers at least. She laced her boots up tight, pulling the leather strap across the crisscross of laces. Her stockings sported holes, but behind the skirts of her robes, none could see them, what should she care? Her robes on the other hand, crumpled as they were, ought to be replaced. The stench of mold and and grave moss clung to the faded fabric as she pulled it over her head, and it bothered her for the first time since escaping to Stormwind.
She was a cleaner monster than that.
Shopping came to mind, strangely--not that she had much to work with. Perhaps inside she had a woman's heart somewhere, wishing to drown her sorrows by shopping. A gold piece and 15 silver, she counted within her pockets, hardly enough to buy a day's worth of food. Her satchel, cleaned and prepared, was clenched over her shoulder as she made her way up to the tavern. The bartender hardly noticed her rise up from the ramp and walk out into the small courtyard, seeming a little more than groggy. It was rather early in the morning for Jarel Moor.
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"Where is your demon, idiot?!" the white-haired elf growled out, almost frothing at the mouth by now in her anger. She wondered if the dagger-wielder was suffering from a contracted disease. "Set it on the damned gnolls and then attack! Ugh. I can't keep all of them off of you!"
Why Anisse decided to take the help from the raging assassin, she couldn't quite decide, but she regretted it. What respect and interest she had in their race had completely fallen through with this encounter. The thrill of the hunt spoiled by the elf's consistent barrage of derogatory remarks, Anisse found it even less worthwhile when the Kal'dorei demanded that she get anything holding value from the corpses of the gnolls. She was terribly bored, the day's shopping ruined for this...partnership. She'd have to think of something to do.
"I am sorry," the woman said, her voice filled with shame. "I'm a little new at this."
"Whatever," snorted the Kal'dorei, emptying a nice leather satchel from the gnoll, as well as more pieces of silver. "Just summon the damn demon so we can get this over with. I need to kill 2 more of them."
"As you wish. Do you want me to use a soulstone?" The stone glimmered like the string of black pearls Anisse used to tie her mahogany hair back within the hood, filling her hand.
"Yeah...in case you do something dumb again. I'm not dying for it."
Without question, Anisse casted the spell, the demonic words coming slow and untrained to her lips, but the connection was made. The elf shivered as she felt the tingle of the dark magic connecting her spirit to the orb.
"There. Good. Look forget about the demon, and just wait till I get them all, then attack. NO fearing, okay?" the elf tried to reason now, hanging on to her apparently thin strand of patience.
Anisse nodded her cowled head meekly.
At once, the elf was at work. Dissapearing from her sight, Anisse watched as one of the canine-like gnolls crumpled to the ground, killed instantly in one stroke by the backstabbing manuever. It was quite impressive. The assassin next lay into the gnoll's companion, who roared with fury, but could not come close to landing a blow upon the elf.
"Help!" the Kaldorei growled out as two more gnolls joined the fight against the assassin. Anisse then inflicted a curse of fear upon the attackers, sending them to scatter and alert others, much to the elf's horror.
"You little...! Auugh! I'm going to--"
Anisse was nowhere to be found, from what the elf could see. Fighting valiantly against some ten gnolls all alone, she killed the eighth before her body could take more of the axe blows and bites. She ran perhaps ten feet away from the slobbering creatures before a bolt of earth magic brought her to her knees, making her blackout. It was not long before she sensed the warlock's hands around her essence. Try as the elf might, she could not get back to her body. It was just as the warlock planned.
"There we go. I think they're all gone now," Anisse murmured to the orb quietly. Her voice was soft, but devoid of warmth as she assessed the soulstone. "It worked rather well, don't you think?" Her finger rubbed into the small crack in the surface of the soulstone. "Pity the stone is damaged. I don't think you will be able to return to your body unless I completely shatter it. It's a small quirk of demonic magic. Funny, don't you think?"
The elf screamed, but went unheard, her own voice only echoing inside of the orb, outwardly glowing. Blades of grass now cradled the stone where Anisse set it down, and before it set the slaughtered body of the Kaldorei. The body was relieved of the loot the assassin had greedily horded. The orb flickered angrily, and the hooded woman smirked, not having to hear the course tongue.
"You aren't very good at killing," Anisse told the churning orb, freeing a good sized knife with a thin, curved blade from the inside of her robes. "Neither am I. But that will change in time, I think." Freeing the torso of it's leather tunic, the knife started to cut through the chest cavity. The soul inside of the stone screamed more in horror than pain, forced to watch as her body was mutilated.
"Thank you for the practice," she said, her lips barely moving as she concentrated on her task.
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