The Sin’dorei ranger lurched around in the dirt, the last pleaded words dissolving into a rattle as life began to give out. Her eyes were frozen upon the cloaked figure in death. The one who had stood idly by as she was overwhelmed in the Dead Scar, watching as she was taken down by dozens of undead. Surely she had given her life for the stranger, a true protector of her kind--perhaps she could even forgive the fellow elf for a lack of courage. But to let her die here? Helplessly consumed by the swarms of Scourge? Condemned to become one of them? It was a fate worse than any death the Farstrider could imagine.
The dead began to crowd, their shadows falling over her prone body. She was still conscious! It was a nightmare of nightmares, too weak to even end her own life before they could tear her apart…
The sting of icy magic collected the attentions of the undead, freezing them in place, and then drawing them all away from the Farstrider’s broken body. She had enough strength in her to witness the downfall of all of the zombies. By no means perfection, of course, as the mage circled around and around in the Scar to widdle them down with fire and ice, taking the occasional rake of bony claws to ensure a blast here or there. When all was said and done, a relief slid through the dying elf as the cloaked figure stood over her.
“…th…than-k…you…” she managed to rasp out, feeling the comfort of fingers trace up the side of her face, following the line of her ear. A final, soothing farewell. She would not die alone.
The lips visible under the cowl curved into the smallest of smiles, replying in muddled Thalassian: “Thank you…”
She could process the heavy sting of a fine blade cutting around her left ear as her heart pumped its last.
(Late into the night, later that day)
Below deck, and away from the Captain and his cohorts, Anisse sat upon the cot she was assigned. Humming softly, she sunk the needle through and through her hood, stitching the edge of the blood elf’s ear she claimed to the inside of the fabric. Stuffing it with a long, slender twig she’d procured from her travels to keep it erect, she smiled at her work. It would be passable. Gathering the other ear into her lap, she rethreaded the needle with more twine.
One down, one to go.
“What you be doin’ down here, girl?” Tia’zula caught her off-guard, making the needle slip out of her grasp for a moment. She scowled faintly at the troll, the expression fading soon after she found it. The troll was…tolerable, in comparison to the other members of the crew. She sighed as she slid the needle through the skin, lining it up with the hood once more.
“Preparing.”
Anisse could feel the troll watching her in silence. And then a raspy cackle erupted from her throat. The young woman looked up at Tia, a frown on her face.
“You t’inkin’ dat gonna keep you safe in de city? Coupla elfy ears?”
“It is the best I can do. If the Captain believes I am to be confined to the ship, I’m afraid I have other plans. I do not believe humans are welcomed in the elven forests…” She hoped the elves were not as prone to worldly pleasures as most of the human patrons that stepped into the Lamb had been. After observing the Captain for so long though….Anisse had her doubts. Still, any place was better than the Lamb at this very moment. Making gold as part of the ship’s crew was far more favorable than spending two weeks as an unpaid barmaid.
She hoped the patrons would miss her meatpies as they choked on their ale.
“How ‘bout dis? I help you get ‘round de elf lan’s, you go ‘preparin’ t’ help in de soup kitchen? Captan order it.” Tia grinned as she watched the girl put the finished hood on. The attached ears wobbled a bit before she secured the cowl under her chin with a knot. Though the wood inserts scraped against the sides of her head, the ears would be passable with a bit more support. “You makin’ a cute elf, girl. I make it bettah.”
“Fine..” Anisse swept down her hood, and the ears slid back uselessly, hanging from the fabric. Her eyes drifted off to the long, flat crate that sat on her cot, and she knew the troll was eyeing it too.
“What in dere?”
The girl’s hands went to the tied collar at her throat. Inside, she was relieved to be away from Stormwind, away from the idiots, from the weak-hearted, from the arrogant.
From the thieves…
Yet, the “game” could not be over until it was over. When she had what was rightfully hers.
“…product. When we are in Booty Bay again, perhaps it can be shipped.”
“Can jus’ sell in Silvamoon, eh? Or dat Brill? Dey seem t’ like de pies.”
Anisse held back a chuckle, pursing her lips tight to swallow it as she lifted the flat crate. “Not pies. I will need to refrigerate it, however. There is an icebox in the soup kitchen, yes?”
“I t’ink so.” Tia made way for the young woman as she carried her crate to the end of the rows of cots. Her small boots clinked upon the metal rivets that secured the floorboards of the ship. “Where you be shippin’ it to?”
“The butcher shop.” Anisse said softly, glancing over her shoulder to the troll. “In Stormwind.”
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