The smell of fresh ocean air suffused the bowels of the ship, her cot creaking as the hull did with each gentle wave that was ridden. Someone had left the door to the bunk quarters open, and it irked Anisse slightly to hear the obnoxious laughing of the crew just outside. Drink, barter, gamble. Is that all they did upon the ship? She was sure there were other more lewd possibilities, but her mind wouldn’t dare go in that direction.
It wasn’t all terrible, she thought to herself. She twisted the cap closed upon her newest treasure, the pale green, robust heart floating idly in the concoction of the jar. The orc’s heart was larger than the others she’d had in her renewed collection, and the ‘donator’ had been harder to take down than she thought it would be. Even old orcs were seasoned brawlers, she found out, rubbing the side of her aching jaw, the bruising around her throat--he certainly didn’t go down without a fight. It might’ve been easier to take from the small ports the Captain attacked and sacked, but his rulings against killing and the chaos of the ransacking prevented her from action. It was idiotic, really.
Some lambs are born for the slaughter, after all.
Anisse stiffened as the ideal passed through her mind, a remnant of the Twilight Hammer she’d ran away from. The jar tinked against the little metal shelving she’d had the rest of the jars displayed upon, and she fixed it up with a strong piece of yarn to keep it from sliding off the shelf. What was she doing anyway? Where was the Purpose? Before it seemed so clear, to cull Azeroth. Level the playing field. Press the reset button. Destruction would birth a new land. A new world order.
No more war…
And now where was the Purpose? Fear had crept in to steal her will. But everywhere she looked there was only disease. Perversion. Even the elven city with its needless, suffocating wealth pushed its citizens into sloth and vulgarity despite the potential for magical enlightenment. The orc city had been interesting, at least. She’d never thought a culture basing its language upon grunts and nods could be so decorated in its simplicity. She ran a finger across the jar containing the orc heart. Perhaps that was why she wished for this one so direly, despite the beating taken. The courageous heart, with a will to help her own. If she stared hard enough, she could almost imagine it still beating behind the glass.
“Ship’s landed, girl,” Tia grinned at her from the darkness of the room’s doorway, just at the same time as the hull’s bell rang. “Get some fresh air, eh?”
It was not a bad suggestion, but when Anisse stepped outside to wince at the bright light of Booty Bay, she regretted it. Her head pulsed as the light assaulted her senses, but she bore through it at the whim of the smell of the ocean. Truth be told, she liked the smell, the gentle lapping of the waves at the legs of the dock. Eyes adjusting to the sight, she frowned when she realized how many small, green men decorated the large port. If they were as annoying as the Captain’s ‘buddy’, she was turning right back around to board the ship.
“Got it all right here, sweetie! Read all about it! Stormwind Gazette, Gnome Gnews, Orgrimmar Daily, Azerothian Ladies Digest(™)*! Take your pick! Only 1 gold a piece!“ Newspaper flashed Anisse in the face as one of the annoying goblins shoved them in front of her. She might’ve reacted by throttling the little goblin, but the newspapers caught her attention. Immediately she brought out the large pouch of gold the Captain had given her.
“Give me the Stormwind one…no not that one, the smaller paper with the headlines,” Anisse almost commanded. If it was possible that the paper boy’s eyes could get larger at the sight of the large satchel of gold, they did. The goblin licked his lips and smirked at her as she reached for the paper, jerking the paper away from her fingers. His meaty hand lay palm up in demand of more coin.
“That one’s gonna cost you extra, lady. Harder to get copies of that one. Not as…ya know. Big as the Gazette.” She of course, glowered at the goblin, but she could not deny his cunning enterprise, and gave him the extra coin for the paper.
‘MORE MURDERS! BODIES FOUND IN OLD TOWN MAKING OFFICIALS HEAD’S SPIN!’
The headlines made her face burn.
The photos printed underneath the headline then turned her blood cold. The markings upon the victim’s face were immediately recognizable, though the second victim did not seem so. A Twilight Hammer Cultist. Rounds and rounds of leather cord were wrapped around his neck, and at first she wagered that he died of strangulation.
The leather cords were necklaces.
The paper’s edges were crumpled tight in her hands, the longer she read on about the murder descriptions. Clearly it was a message sent to her. Her game-mate knew. Knew what she was. Apparently there was another murder earlier in the month she had missed since the ship had left Stormwind. Her stomach twisted, a cauldron of excitement, dissapointment and apprehension in one. She had missed so much. How she would have wished to feel the leather cord, pluck it from the dead cultist’s neck, to have what was hers again, but she was stuck on a dock with an insipid goblin waving papers in her face. How much could this player expose of her? How much could be used to their advantage?!
“Is that her? The new one? Haha, you know Wolf could do better.” The voices caught her off-guard, feminine. The Common tongue. The smell of cheap perfume caught her nose--the scent was outright clogging the air around her.
“Yeah he could be doing me!” A gaggle of giggles exploded behind her. Anisse twitched.
“No, no. He’s got an elf girl. Always with the elf girls, you know.” Another one spoke. “Mhmm. That one looks human. But didn’t she come off the ship?”
“Maybe he’s getting her on the side?” Their voices lowered to a murmur as she glanced backward at the stalking harpies. There was so much cleavage hanging, Anisse wondered why they bothered wearing anything at all.
“Mmmmaybe. She looks like a little rag doll though. I betcha there’s a nice little body under those robes to play with. Hehe, cute. Pretty hair.”
“…c’mon lets go talk to her…”
“Briza you sound like you want to do her!”
More giggling. It rung in Anisse’s ears, and she wanted to run. Far away.
“You know I would do anything for the right price, girls--hey where’s she going?”
The scorched newspaper was left behind in Anisse’s stead as she practically ran for the sanctity of the ship.
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