Messages in the Dark

“Thank you, Mistress.”

LaSombra knelt before the head of the Vile Thorn, her yellow eyes piercing him once more as he avoided her gaze. He had often had the same feeling when subjected to a direct stare from the Mistress, as though her eyes were daggers, and his soul was being carefully dissected. The operation had been a success, another alliance agent lay dead, and his report of this had been well received.

“You may go now, LaSombra. Shadows protect.”

“Shadows protect, Mistress.”

He gave a deep bow, turned, and faded into the shadows to avoid detection as he left the area. He was weary from battle, the paladin had sold his life dearly, but he smiled as he reminded himself that the end result was, as ever, the same. He did not know where the urge to kill that ran so deep within him had come from. He remembered nothing of his life before he became Forsaken. His earliest memories were of huddling in the gloom of the Undercity, venturing outside only to rob the inattentive, murder the unwary, and feast upon the recently departed. He had been nothing back then, a mere shade of unfocussed menace, nothing to be particularly afraid of, as long as one was careful.

He remembered the time he had first laid eyes on a Thorn. LaSombra had been crouched in the shadows, counting the takings from a day of thievery, when he saw a Forsaken in a blood red mask strolling toward the rogue quarter as though he owned the place. His black and red tabard had fluttered up to reveal a pair of impressive daggers, but no money pouch. Nonetheless, LaSombra had been intrigued (if not by his wealth, then by his manner) and followed him to a shadowy recess at the rear of the rogues quarter, a place obscured from the view of the main city.

There were many more waiting for the unknown Forsaken, all identically masked and clothed in red and black. It was a meeting of some kind. They greeted the arrival of their brother warmly and LaSombra, knowing that any attempt to attack or rob would be fruitless, silently cursed his luck and backed away, all the while keeping his eye on the group. He had always been adept at avoiding unfriendly eyes, but just as he backed around the corner to escape a Sin'Dorei male with black hair looked directly into his eyes, winked, and went back to talking to the group.

At this point LaSombra had panicked. He had run full pelt back to his sewer hideout, in full view of the many perplexed Undercity denizens, all the while screaming at himself in his head for having been so careless. He would have to leave the Undercity, at least until these people forgot who he was, and then he could go back to a nice, peaceful, unnoticed existence, free to do whatsoever he pleased to whomsoever he pleased. When he reached the entrance to his dank hiding place however, he had frozen in shock.

The candles were lit. He had put them out when he left, he was certain of it! He put his back to the wall next to the entrance in case the intruder was still within, and fumbled in his belt for the crude shank he had found on a corpse in Tirisfal. He held it out like a mirror, using it to check the interior of the chamber. It had been empty, devoid of any would be murderer, but there was still something amiss. There, embedded in the pile of rags he used as a pillow, was a dagger. And skewered on the blade, a parchment. He had crept silently into his own sleeping area, and picked up the note that would change the meaning of his existence forever. It read:

“I think you noticed that you were seen following a Thorn to our meeting. Come to the rogues quarter, unarmed, at 6 tomorrow evening. We know how to find you. Come alone. Deathmaster Sunblade.”

At the time, this had all seemed like some terrifying magic, that the message could be on his bed before he had managed to run there. His Thorn training had now allowed him to understand that he had never really been unseen that night. The Thorn he had followed to the meeting had known all along that there was this clumsy shadow echoing his footsteps. A message had been sent amongst the Thorns to place the message before he had even laid eyes on the meeting. The memory of it still made LaSombra smile.

He was almost home now, back to his chambers. They were a little more refined than those days, there was a real pillow where he could rest his head whilst he thought over the days events (though he no longer felt the need to sleep, he often found it useful to lay in silence and contemplate the day, perhaps an echo of his life before he was Forsaken). As he came to his chamber door, a feeling reminiscent of that first night stole over him. Again, he had come home and unexpectedly found that the candles, though extinguished when he had left, were now lit.

As before he threw his back to the wall next to the door, and drew his blade to peer in its reflection around the corner. Again, an empty room. Again, a dagger in his pillow. Again, a parchment pinned there. And this time also a red cloth, which he instantly recognised as a Thorn mask, wrapped around the handle. He walked into the room, pulled the dagger from its resting place, and read the attached note.

“In the event that I am not heard from by my contact for an extended period of time, I have instructed them to deliver this letter to you. If you are reading this then it means I am missing, and not by my own making. I have left this message with the warlock Falfear in the hopes that if something should happen to me, my Thorn brethren will find me and, if needs be, avenge me.

Shadows Protect,

Meloda”

LaSombra crushed the note in his fist, a grimace of anger crossing his usually passive features. The Thorns would find their lost sister, make no mistake of that.

And the Dark Lady protect whoever was responsible.

Nice story LaSombra
Love the little details you put in there, I want to see what happens next!
Also we want Meloda back!!!

Look forward to reading your next story

Lovely story Lasombra (and not just because I got a mention!). You captured the Thorn spirit beautifully.

It had been a long night, far too long. The lead she had paid for turned out to be seriously dodgy, resulting in near miss and no richer for her efforts. The last few months had been really hard and work was getting tougher to come by. All Eirdra could do now was drown her sorrows, end up in paraletic and hopefully fall asleep somewhere dry. Dragging her misery behind her she made her way to Gravy's place in Orgrimmar and slumped across the bar.

"Ja havin' a bad day gurl?" asked Gravy as he patted her on the head, attempting to be comforting.

"The worst. I just don't know why I bother sometimes. You can't get anywhere by yourself these days." mumbled Eirdra, pouting unashamedly.

"Ja know whatcha need, Firewater, warm ja reet up inside," Gravy grinned and shoved the drink in the small elf's hand.

Pushing herself away from the bar she found a dark spot under the staircase and began to drink heavily, hoping to outrun her troubles. The Firewater would have to do, it'd been a while since she had cut out Bloodthistle from her life and now was not the time to start up again. She leaned back against the wall as the Firewater began to take affect, lit up a cigarette and closed her eyes. Eirdra allowed herself to relax and take in her surroundings. The place had been pretty busy to her surprise, good business for Gravy, but not ideal for her. Peace and quiet was what she desired right now and it was becoming less and less likely she'd get it. Trying not to loose her temper she began to listen into strangers conversations, maybe she wouldn't end tonight empty handed if she found the right idiot. It was difficult picking out individual voices among the noise, but she had been practised and could hear 'money' a mile off. The group in front off her were discussing the disappearance of someone, hardly of any interest to her, and one lone elf was fixated on finding an alchemist. Eirdra decided to focus her attention on the group of people who had gathered on the floor above her head, she had recognised them straight away from their black and red tabards. Normally she would avoid being anywhere near the Vile Thorn, but tonight she had been drinking quite a lot and pushed caution aside. Maybe she could over hear something she could use, a piece of information she could sell on or use as leverage.

"I may have a use for your skills," commented a deep and gravel voice. Eirdra could only assume that the voice belonged to a Forsaken male given it's dark tone.

"I have a need to track an individual down who clearly doesn't want to be found. Your abilities would allow you to get close, but first we would need to locate her."

There was potential in this, perhaps she could find this target and sell her on to the Vile Thorn or warn the target for a reasonable reward. Either way this could be quite profitable.

"So who's the target?" squeaked a Goblin female. Eirdra held her breath to ensure she heard every word, remaining perfectly still as she listened.

" The target has information about one of her Thorn sisters who has been missing a long time, it is very important we locate her. She is a practising Warlock by the name of Falfear."

The Forsaken's words hit her violently and she found herself knocking over her drink. Swearing under her breath she frantically tried to dry herself off, breathing heavily she tried to calm down. It would be alright, it was hardly public knowledge that Falfear was her half sister, she had made sure of it. Being an illegitimate child had it's advantages when you wanted to keep your head low. It would take a lot of digging around to link them up and by then they would probably find her. Eirdra took a long deep breath and regained focus, listening into what came next was too important.

"But how am I supposed to locate her if she is deliberately avoiding the Vile Thorn?" queried the Goblin female.

Once again she found herself holder her breath, but this time she was poised to make a run for it.

"There is only one person we believe will be able to point us in the right direction, her half sister Eirdra Swiftsong."

Eirdra had already began her retreat before she heard her whole name. How in the world did they get this information? Someone had clearly betrayed her, but revenge would have to wait as she needed to get out of there pronto.

Sitting alone, dangling her legs off the side of a bridge Eirdra gazed at the bright green river that ran through the Undercity. She had always found comfort within its walls. There was soft poetry she found in death, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad having her life end here. It wouldn't be long now until they found her, if they had a name they would also know she lived in the Undercity, only a matter of time. Eirdra winced as she took the last drag of her cigarette, careful not to burn her fingers, before stubbing the remains out beside her. As she did so she found a pair of short dumpy legs at her side. Without looking up she leaned back on her shoulders and waited for the Goblin to speak.

"Excuse me, do you mind if I bother you for a moment?" quietly questioned the Goblin. Eirdra nearly found herself laughing at the Goblin's approach. Never did she think she'd come across a Thorn so terribly curtious.

"Polite for a Thorn aren't you" jested Eirdra, still careful to keep an eye on the Goblin's weaponry.

"Well I'm pretty new and still have my manners. Maybe that's why they send me on these missions. My name is Kreacher." The Goblin beamed at Eirdra, catching her a bit off guard. This was turning out to be a very surreal evening.

"Well Kreacher, I understand you're looking for Falfear then?" asked Eirdra in a flat and unwavering tone. She had hoped the Goblin would flash her a surprised look, but none was made. Eirdra knew it had been unlikely that the Vile Thorn hadn't noticed a drunken elf stumble out of the bar attempting to remain stealthed. Sighing deeply she continued on.

"What is in it for me?"

Kreacher seemed a little stumped at Eirdra's request and began patting her pockets in search of some form of payment. Once again Eirdra found herself holding her laughter in. This goblin was really quite sweet for a Thorn.

"What I want is a guarantee that the Vile Thorn will not harm me nor bully me, just let me live my life."

The Goblin knelt down beside her and with the most sincere look said "We promise". Eirdra gave Kreacher a stern look, the cute act was wearing thin and it was her life they we discussing. The Goblin quickly took the hint and turned away to speak into her comms unit. She couldn't hear what was being said, but just had to assume her terms had been met.

"You need to look in Dalaran, there is a bar within the sewers, you'll find her there. To be honest she deserves everything that's coming to her the harlot." The words falling from Eirdra's lips with ease.

Kreacher grinned ear to ear, clearly impressed that Eirdra had given up her own kin so quickly.

"Oh, and when you do find her, rough her up a bit and send her my love." Eirdra returned the grin back to Kreacher and began to light up another cigarette.

Kreacher giggled and asked "Are you sure you're not a Thorn?"

Eirdra stopped smiling and stared Kreacher down, replying "I have no need for a Mistress."

As she began walking away Kreacher nodded and with a muted smile commented "I can see that. Doing alright for yourself I see."

With that the Goblin disappeared into the shadows. Taking a long drag from her cigarette, Eirdra tried to ignore the tone of irony in Kreacher's last words. She just wanted her bed and to forget the events of the day. It was more than likely she'd be followed home, but she had stopped caring. Eirdra tried to imagine Falfear's face when she is finally approached by the Thorns. The thought tickled her slightly and she found herself smiling. She knew why the Thorns were looking for Falfear, they were getting their act together and trying to find out what happened to Meloda. It had crossed her mind that Meloda had given her name to the Thorns before she left, but as they had only asked her about her half sister's whereabouts and not about Meloda it was clear she hadn't been betrayed by her dearest friend. As Eirdra stepped into her quarters she looked around solemly, staring at the home she had once shared with that lonely Thorn.