#Operative Mistcaller

[lovelydeadlysocialite]

Request for Reassignment (Vyn/Kat)

Vynette sat at her desk, finishing up the paperwork assigned to her, just like any night in the office. The only difference was her demeanor. Something about her was tense. She caught a look from Kat more than once for her heel tapping nervously, and the elf kept sneaking glances at her Director to almost make a comment before sealing her lips again.

Finally, without looking up, some of the proposed words in her head finally managed to tumble out. "I was talking to an agent from another Unit today. I guess they've had eight agents now put in to answer the call for aid. From, you know, the Covenants."

"Uh-huh," Kat muttered in response without looking at the elven operative, her focus remaining on the papers she shuffled, expression blank.

It was more or less the kind of response Vyn expected. She sighed, knowing she was going to have to move things forward. "It seems like the need for more trained hands is still pretty great. And what with the duties of wartime off everyone's plates, more or less," her voice trailed softer and quicker as she mumbled, "I was considering requesting a temporary assignment to offer my abilities. Ma'am."

Kat froze in place, staring at the document in hand as a slow exhale spilled over her lips. Eyelids shut as lips curled inward over the teeth and the paper set aside. "There are plenty of eager hero types and jar-heads t' fill the ranks." Her response monotone as the stark gaze shifted to the elf.

"We have plenty t'do here."

The air in the room thinned out at Kat's tone and in any other instance, Vyn would have dropped the topic. Unfortunately, the circumstances here were unique. "I know. There is work to be done, and I'm not ignoring or underplaying the work we do." She may have come to Unit Eight looking for a job and a safe place to hide, but she did understand the value they added to the Alliance she was somehow a part of now.

"It is just... the request came for me specifically." An uncharacteristic uncertainty softened Vynette's voice. "My teacher is part of the House of Eyes. He has called for me to aid the Necro Lords."

Without missing a beat, Kat's eyes narrowed sharply following Vyn's confession. "I see..." Her tone and demeanor turned ice-cold, and the eye contract broke, the Director diving back into her papers.

"So after everythin', I've done, everythin' I've risked, yer going t' abandon me just like that." Pain and anger laced Kat's words, her jaw tightening towards the end. "One letter from a ghost and I'm nothin' t' ya'."

Vyn's bright blue eyes went wide at the shift in tone. It was rare to see such intensity drawn from the otherwise collected and calculating Director. As someone who genuinely respected Kat, Vyn felt the pit of guilt in her stomach. "No, that's not it at all! You're... you mean a lot to me. You took a chance on me." She spoke of the risks Kat took for her in a hushed voice, not wanting to raise suspicions of anyone who might still be lingering in a nearby office. "I owe you everything."

Taking a deep breath, Vyn pressed forward, mustering up her determination. "I am not looking to leave beyond a temporary reassignment; my home is here. With you and with the Unit." Their office was one of the few consistent places anyone could find her these days. "But he was the one who got me here. He saw value in me and gave me purpose. And I failed him. And he died," she finally admitted.

"And I saw value in ya', and gave ya' a new purpose!" Kat quickly countered, pointing a finger in the elven woman's direction. "A purpose that could have, and still could, get us both killed."

With a scoff, Kat's head shook, and her arms crossed as she stood from the desk and paced. "Ya' failed him, but he sends a letter? Have ya' gone dense Vynette?" For once, the Director addressed her elven shadow by the first name rather than the forged surname. "It has trap written all over it. Or did ya' forget how ya' were ejected from the Horde?"

It would have been easy to call her paranoid; plenty of people in SI:7 had already. The real pain came from the truth in her words.

"I was overconfident when I got set up. I'm not that anymore thanks to you," she pointed out. "Being by your side is important to me."

Vyn was to the point of pleading, even when she knew Kat was not so easily swayed. What else could she do? "Kat..." She addressed the woman, not the title. "There's still closure I need from my time as an apprentice. Shit I'm still carrying with me. My loyalty is with you; no one can change that. So I'm asking-- begging for the chance to serve the cause in the Shadowlands and put my ghosts to rest."

A heated exhale pushed through the nostril as Kat turned her back to Vynette's pleading, facing the wall where documents, pins, and red string put together the tapestry of their current case. She did not appear to be swayed by the elf's begging, not entirely. Something in that final statement did bring a silent pause.

"If bein' by my side is so important, then why so eager to leave it?" She chose to hone in on other points and skip over the please, keeping her back to the elf. There was still a tinge of pain and anger in her tone.

"Livin' in th' past never moved anyone forward. I need ya' here. Or is suddenly wot I and this job I graced ya' with no longer of importance? I didn' say a bloody thing when I came back to find yer visage eerily similar to mine, plucked a hair from the office, no doubt. Even when my patience is tested by yer sometimes questionable motivations and comments in the borderline territory of breakin' my rules, I allowed yer leash to remain lax. I never asked fer anythin' other than service in return, even after footin' the bills to fake and create yer life in the Alliance. But this is the thanks I get? T'be abandoned fer some Horde dog."

Vynette got to her feet, because she disliked the tone Kat was taking regarding her teacher. Vyn rarely defied Kat; it was not in her nature. Still, she persisted. "You've let my leash remain lax because I've done everything you've ever asked of me, without question. I've followed every order, completed every mission," her voice dropped lower, but picked up its intensity, "I've done every off-book task you've needed with a smile because I'm your knife. I've committed sins for you and I'd commit them thrice over and you know that."

Scrunching her nose at the realization that her tone was getting away from her, Vynette composed herself. "He's not some Horde dog, Director; he's found a place of high standing in the House of Eyes. If I went over your head, they'd give me the go ahead. Hell, I could go to Fiske. I didn't do that because I don't give a shit about their authority. You're the one I follow."

Looking down at her desk, Vynette sat back down feeling resigned to defeat. "If you command me to stay, I'll stay. I don't ask for much. But I'm just asking for you to trust me. I have debts to repay, but he's not my master anymore."

As the Operative's tone began to get away from her, Kat looked back over her shoulder. One brow lifted as she stared the elven woman down from across the room as if cursing her for the act of defiance.

"Go over m'head or t'Fiske, and it won't be a temporary reassignment." The Director barked. Whether it was a threat or fact was anyone's guess.

Fingers ran through her raven tresses, pulling the strands back as she sighed quietly, seemingly content with Vynette's concession. "When this case is over," Kat motioned to the wall at her side as she turned to face the elf. "Then I will consider signin' off on a temporary reassignmen'. I will no' make any promises, however."

The tension in Vyn's shoulders released. Resisting Kat's authority made her physically uncomfortable, but she had made it to the other side. They both knew the elf would not go over Kat's head, but she was still being given an out. She could handle finishing their assignment at hand. She would cling to the hope that, if she continued to be on her best behavior, Kat would give her the chance to settle her past.

"Of course, ma'am," she replied with an earnest salute and a genuine, radiant smile. "Til then, the only thing on my mind is our case. I'm all yours; you have my word."

"Good," Kat murmured as she returned to her desk and the papers scattered atop it.

"Now get out of m'sight for an hour or two before I change m'mind, and there better be a bottle in one hand when ya' return."

[ @kat-hawke​ ]

[kat-hawke]

Vynette’s Request

The Unit's return to Stormwind was unceremonious, as Kat preferred, and every operative had their hands full within the first hour. The guards were overworked and understaffed following the scourge onslaught, and the paperwork piled higher by the day: missing persons, domestic threats, Cultist sightings and speculations. Kat and the others worked tirelessly throughout the day and night over the week to sort the reports to the correct groups and chase leads on the ones which pertained to their Unit.

At nearly two in the morning, Kat and Vynette were the only two remaining, shuffling through folders with inkwells, and the Director's supply of whiskey, running dry. The elven operative repeatedly tapped her heel, earning a stern glance from the Director in a silent demand to cease the annoying habit. All the while, Kat could feel Vynette's occasional glance, but the Director was content with the silence and private conversations with the dagger on her thigh.

"I was talking to an agent from another Unit today," the elven operation finally spoke without looking up from her work. "I guess they've had eight agents now put in to answer the call for aid. From, you know, the Covenants."

Immediately Kat's patience ebbed at the mention, letting out an exasperated sigh through the nose as she muttered her response without eye contact. "Uh-huh."

There were few reports about the tear in the veil between realms, and few yet about these supposed Covenants on the other side. Each document was skimmed and submitted to the appropriate Units, but Kat remained adamant that none of it was her concern.

She could hear Vynette's sigh, knowing the operative would push the topic, her patience continued to decline.

"It seems like the need for more trained hands is still pretty great. And what with the duties of wartime off everyone's plates, more or less," the elf's voice trailed softer and quicker as she mumbled, "I was considering requesting a temporary assignment to offer my abilities. Ma'am."

While Kat speculated, this is where the conversation was leading, hearing the words still shook her. The depleted patience turned to annoyance and anger as she stared at the paper in hand, a slow exhale spilling over the faintly parted lips which curled inward over the teeth. Collecting her thoughts with eyes closed and shutting out the voice from the dagger for a moment, she refrained from an explosive response.

"There are plenty of eager hero types and bucket-heads t'full the ranks," she spoke in a monotone, slowly opening her eyes. "We have plenty t'do here."

"I know. There is work to be done, and I'm not ignoring or underplaying the work we do." Vynette kept the topic afloat, furthering the slow boil in Kat's blood and testing the limits of her restrained temper.

"It is just... the request came for me specifically." An uncharacteristic uncertainty softened Vynette's voice. "My teacher is part of the House of Eyes. He has called for me to aid the Necro Lords."

Without missing a beat, Kat's eyes narrowed sharply following Vyn's confession, her tone turning ice-cold. "I see..." 

Looking away from the elf, she went back to the papers on her desk, the grip on her temper slipping away as her operative mentioned a figure from her past. The sudden sense of abandonment weaved into the abusive thoughts that came to mind.

"So after everythin', I've done, everythin' I've risked, yer going t' abandon me just like that." Pain and anger laced Kat's words, her jaw tightening towards the end as a stamp violently slammed upon a folder. "One letter from a ghost and I'm nothin' t' ya'."

"No, that's not it at all! You're... you mean a lot to me. You took a chance on me." Vynette's voice lowered as the door to their office remained open. "I owe you everything."

Her words did little to cool the building heat within the Director's blood as she continued to shift through documents furiously and refuse to look at the elf.

"I am not looking to leave beyond a temporary reassignment; my home is here. With you and with the Unit." Vynette spoke again after a deep breath. "But he was the one who got me here. He saw value in me and gave me purpose. And I failed him. And he died," she finally admitted.

The rubber stamp was slammed into the ink pad and abandoned.

"And I saw value in ya', and gave ya' a new purpose!" Kat quickly countered, pointing a finger in the elven woman's direction. "A purpose that could have, and still could, get us both killed." 

With a scoff, Kat's head shook, and her arms crossed as she stood from the desk and paced. "Ya' failed him, but he sends a letter? Have ya' gone dense Vynette?" The woman's first name's deliberate use was rare, and she hoped it would erode the elf's will to continue the conversation. "It has trap written all over it. Or did ya' forget how ya' were ejected from the Horde?"

"I was overconfident when I got set up. I'm not that any more thanks to you," Vynette pointed out, pained by the truth in the Director's words. "Being by your side is important to me." 

Kat scoffed, shaking her head and putting her back to the elf as she examined the wall. Documents, photos, pins, and red tread all created the tapestry of their current open case to locate The Renovator. Her eyes glanced to the pin, which represented the Ren'dorei she awaited to hear a response.

"If bein' by my side is so important, then why so eager to leave it?" Pain and anger continued to lace the Director's words as she refused to face her operative.

"Kat..." Vynette pleaded. "There's still closure I need from my time as an apprentice. Shit I'm still carrying with me. My loyalty is with you; no one can change that. So I'm asking-- begging for the chance to serve the cause in the Shadowlands and put my ghosts to rest."

"Livin' in th' past never moved anyone forward," Kat responded in her chilled tone. "I need ya' here. Or is suddenly wot I and this job I graced ya' with no longer of importance? I didn' say a bloody thing when I came back to find yer visage eerily similar to mine, plucked a hair from the office, no doubt. Even when my patience is tested by yer sometimes questionable motivations and comments in the borderline territory of breakin' my rules, I allowed yer leash to remain lax. I never asked fer anythin' other than service in return, even after footin' the bills to fake and create yer life in the Alliance. But this is the thanks I get? T'be abandoned fer some Horde dog."

The elven operative stood from her seat as she pressed her defiance and rare occurrence from a woman who took pleasure from remaining obedient. "You've let my leash remain lax because I've done everything you've ever asked of me, without question. I've followed every order, completed every mission," her voice dropped lower but picked up its intensity, "I've done every off-book task you've needed with a smile because I'm your knife. I've committed sins for you, and I'd commit them thrice over, and you know that." 

As the operative's tone raced away, Kat looked back over her shoulder. One brow lifted as she stared the elven woman down from across the room as if cursing her for the act of defiance. Her teeth ground together as she contemplated the whispers of the soul-bound dagger.

Vynette's nose scrunched as she realized her tone was getting away, composing herself before resuming. "He's not some Horde dog, Director; he's found a place of high standing in the House of Eyes. If I went over your head, they'd give me the go-ahead. Hell, I could go to Fiske. I didn't do that because I don't give a shit about their authority. You're the one I follow."

"Go over m'head or t'Fiske, and it won't be a temporary reassignment." The Director barked the threat, the hold on her temper loosening further as the primal beast within began to stir. Though she knew the woman would never go over her head.

Resigning to defeat, Vynette sank into her seat, her gaze fixated on her desk. "If you command me to stay, I'll stay. I don't ask for much. But I'm just asking for you to trust me. I have debts to repay, but he's not my master anymore."

Content with the operative's surrender, Kat raked her fingers through the raven tresses with a silent breath of relief. "When this case is over," she motioned to the wall at her side as she turned to face the elf finally. "Then I will consider signin' off on a temporary reassignmen'. I will no' make any promises, however."

"Of course, ma'am," Vynette replied with an earnest salute and a genuine, radiant smile as the visible tension in her shoulders relaxed. "Til then, the only thing on my mind is our case. I'm all yours; you have my word."

"Good," Kat murmured as she returned to her desk and the papers scattered atop it. The pleasure she found in the elf's tension over the defiance was kept hidden.

"Now get out of m'sight for an hour or two before I change m'mind, and there better be a bottle in one hand when ya' return."

"Yes, ma'am," Vynette complied without hesitation, hastily exiting the office as commanded.

The fountain pen spun between Kat's nimble fingers as she stared at the door long after the elf was out of sight, leaning back into the seat with a deep sigh. This act of defiance was unexpected and worrisome, as she relied on Vynette's desire for subservience to keep her firm grip over the displaced Sin'dorei. The thought that putting those supposed ghosts to rest would change her behavior had the Director concerned. A shift in their dynamic of power was a threat to stability and security, the very idea of which caused the pit in her stomach to churn. There was also the fear of this former master swaying her operative into a new life and role, one of possible betrayal from within.

"I said I would consider it, not guarantee it." She responded to her mental conversation and returned to work, trying to set her paranoia to rest.

[ @lovelydeadlysocialite​ ] [ Vague Mentions: @alyssa-ward, @longveil ]

(Vynette’s perspective)

[quinn-varden]

Ears to the Ground

“Quinn.”

The young woman sits on one of the dock posts in Stormwind harbour, looking out over the sea.  There’s a sound of clinking glass, perhaps from a nearby ship deck.

“Quinn?”

She sits on a rooftop in Old Town.  The sun sets in the distance, the sky dimming as the smell of whiskey from the thermos fills her nostrils.

“QUINN!”

She jolts to attention, blinking bleary eyed a few times as her shoulder is shaken and she finds herself standing in the Pig and Whistle behind the counter, the glass in hand overly polished by this point. “Where you been girl?  Off in yer head somewhere?”

Still a bit dazed, Quinn sets the glass beneath the bar with the other clean ones.  Nose scrunches up, lips tightening with a chagrined look on her features.  “Sorry Reese...Mister Langston.  Not enough sleep yesterday I’m supposin’.  Was daydreamin’ a bit.  Won’t happen again.”

Reese Langston’s hand claps her shoulder.  “Yeah, hope not luv.  Look, I’d just send you home to get some rest, but I just got word Elly’s a bit under the weather and you know I’m not goin’ to push her too far.  We got crowd enough tonight that I can’t have you just standin’ here polishin’ glass.  Can you take the floor?”

Teeth drag across Quinn’s lower lip as she sucks it in, brown eyed gaze darting over the assembled patrons, before she exhales slowly.  “Yes sir, yeah, I can take the floor today.  Sorry, that’ll keep me movin’ and focused too.  Thank you.”

Not but a nod given in return as the Tavernkeep turns attention back to serving those at the bar.  Quinn snags a pad of note paper and the bar’s one good pen to stride out amongst the patrons.

It’s a fairly normal crowd, the usual assortment of ne’er do wells from about Old Town.  Owners of nearby businesses stopping for a drink before calling it a night.  And of course, a few travelers who don’t seem to have gotten the word on what kind of hole the Pig is, and decided to stop by.

Quinn’s mind begins to drift once more, daydreaming about other things, unfocused on the Bar work as she goes through the rote greetings, drinks, and food specials.  Pen scratches out her chicken scratch on the pad, her simplistic notation of drinks, not that she needs to write any of it down really.  In practice part of what makes Quinn good at this is her memory.

“...cut to pieces and strung up like some kinda display.”

She’s ripped once more from her idle thoughts by the sound of a voice nearby.  What they’d been talking about before hadn’t even registered, but those words set off warning bells.  There’s no real outward change, she’s good at not letting sudden reactions show on her features or in her posture, but no longer is she daydreaming.

“Don’t know what we’re supposed to do to make a living now.”

Quinn finishes taking her current order before feet carry her the distance towards the table with the two men.  Both of them with dusty faces, large arms, short sleeves, the sort of ruggedness to them that makes them look like day laborers of some kind.

“Havin’ a rough go of it fellas?”  Quinn asks with sympathy slipping across her malleable features.  “Overheard you might not be able to work for a bit?  Tell you what, doin’ a special today only.  Give me a story worth hearin’ and your next pint is on the house.  We like stories around here.”

“Aint one you’re gonna believe gorgeous,” the man who had spoken first replies.  “But sure, I’ll tell it.”

“Don’t have to be true, just got to be good enough to be worth hearin’” Quinn teases back, glancing back down to her notepad.  “So tell me your tale and what you’re havin’?”

“Shorter than he makes it out to be,” the second man replies first.  “We been hired on for summer work at Grayson’s Lumber yard, out east end of Elwynn.  Gets like that this time o’year, bring on a whole mess o’summer labor to finish before the hot season gets goin’ proper.”

“Sounds like you should be payin’ for your drinks just fine then,” Quinn flashes her brightest smile.  Inside she’s mentally urging them to get to the point.

“Yeah well, that’s the thing lady, bunch of us been let go,” the first man speaks again.  “Owner runnin’ the yard and his two sons turned up,” he blanches a bit looking up at Quinn, and then, in trying to spare the woman, “not livin’.” He finishes a bit lamely.

“It’s got to have been bandits, only ones who’d be twisted enough to cut folks up and then hang ‘em on display with wire like some sick Darkmoon puppet or somethin’ right?”  The second man pipes in eagerly.  “Only the foremen are convinced one of us must’ve done it, let us all go, sent us home and closed the yard.  Maybe they got to...vestigate or somethin’ like?”

Quinn doesn’t bother to hide the downturn of her lips, the furrowing of her brow.  “That’s terrible, there got to be guards sent out to look into that right?”  She also feels her stomach turn a bit at the description.  No wonder the first guy tried to spare her the details.

The darker skinned man, the second, scoffs at that comment, “Miss, now m’friend and I here are good upstandin’ people.  But you got to know what sort of people tend to do day labor out there.  They got to take whatever they can get to move them logs, and not everyone they toss coin to is on the up and up righ…oof.”

An annoyed grunt from the second as his friend kicks him under the table.  “She don’ need to know all that.  Anyway Miss, there you go, not too excitin’ a story but there it is.  Man passed away, and now we’re all out of work.  Even if it aint what you were lookin’ for, that’s got to be worth a pint right?”

Quinn scrunches up her nose, eyes rolling to the side as though waffling a bit on whether or not to reward the story.  Inside she’s already recording the details she’d gotten, making a note that it’s time to make a new report to Vyn.  Been too long since something worth noting has crossed her ears. “Yeah, alright, two pints of lager comin’ up,” pen works on page, taking down a rough description of the two gentlemen rather than their order, that seems more worth noting right now.  Those writing lessons are paying off.

Then once more the din of the tavern takes over, and she lets her mind drift as she returns to the simple pace of work.  For now, she still has this job to do.  Tonight, it’s time to do the other half of what she’s paid for.

[ Mention to @lovelydeadlysocialite​ ]

[lovelydeadlysocialite]

Operative Mistcaller Report, 11th Day of the 11th Month - Mage Quarter Catacombs

Date: 11/11/41      Agent: Vynette Mistcaller

Subject: The Scourge/Cult of the Damned

Location of Incident: Mage Quarter Catacombs

Leads:

Disturbance reports from local residents

Reports of unusual odors

General ties between the Mage Quarter and Dark Magicks (Inference)

Investigation Team:

Team A Kat Hawke, Nikki Thorpe, Tristana Sutton Team B Vynette Mistcaller, Myzariel Arilyth, Jocelyn Wellson

Team B Report:

Pervasive foul odors matching reported scents of previous plague incidents

Evidence of tainted grain

Remnants of a burlap sack marked with a shock of wheat as a symbol

Recreation of the marking attached

Reanimated Fauna encountered in weak, sealed coffins

Hounds (2, Killed by Agents)

Tainted/Infected Fauna encountered in weak, sealed coffins

Rats (Countless, Killed by Agents with assistance from the Director)

Encountered a hooded figure briefly, who enchanted the rats, causing them to grow before vanishing from the scene

At a glance, in line with all previous reports regarding the Cult of the Damned

Intended Follow-Up:

Patrolling and listening for additional leads or reports from citizens and informants in line with potential cult activity

Investigating the wheat symbol found at the scene to determine if it has any ties to a particular farm or organization

[kat-hawke]

Know what Kul Tiras needs? A beach. A good beach. Anyway, enjoying my vacation, be back soon!

-xoxo Mistcaller

Turning the image over in her fingers, Kat tore it in half. Overlapping the pieces to shred it again into smaller bits, repeating the process until they became too small to tear any further and where discarded into the bin beside the desk.

“Highly inappropriate, though no’ suprisin’ from her anymore.” Propping the elbow against the surface she rubbed her forehead. “Who the fuck said she could take a vacation?”

[ @lovelydeadlysocialite ]

[kat-hawke]

Opportune Moments

The constant barrage of medical exams and evaluations began tiresome. Now more of an annoyance, repeating some tests, as if they were searching for a reason to keep her from fully returning to active duty. Growing restless in the waiting after the most recent set of tests, the Director waits until the sun touches the horizon before making her move. Tucking the large envelope into the inner coat pocket she takes to the lower levels of Boralus, finding the waterways easier to navigate than the cobblestone streets above, along with less foot traffic to impede her.

The boardwalk rounded a corner, the faint sounds of water lapping against timeworn posts competing with the sound of her boots agains the boards. A sudden halt brought on by a folded note, carefully placed on the planks in her direct path. Ambers scanned the immediate area, knowing it was intentional and know aware she was being watched. With lips pursed in a scowl, knees bent to lower her body, fingers quickly snatching the paper and folding it open.

‘Hope you’re enjoying Boralus. Plenty of places to push a girl into the water, after all. Talk soon?’

No signature, none was needed. “Sure, luv’. Soon.” The page was quickly folded over in her fingers before it was discarded into the water with a flick of the wrist. Continuing on her way, the pace starting out slow and cautious before picking up again. How she managed to get into the City was one question, why was another. The elf either here to settle up on the bounty the Director’s head carried, or an attempt to lure her into something else. More concerning was just how the assassin tracked her down, having never disclosed her identity in their brief meeting before the war.

I didn’t take long before the lithe figure slipped from the shadows behind the Director, watching her reaction from finding the letter with a sly smirk. Trailing behind at a respectable distance, aware that it wouldn’t take long for Kat to realize she wasn’t alone, Vynette called out, folding her arms across the chest.

"You could really teach a class on dropping off the radar, you know. I almost started to believe the rumors of your demise, Miss Hawke."

Freezing mid step, Kat cast her gaze back over the shoulder with a brow arched inquisitively. The voice was unfamiliar and to her surprise she found no Sin’dorei, but a blonde haired Quel’dorei. Equal parts skeptical and paranoid the conclusion that it was either an illusion or an associate of who she was expecting. Inquiring further before taking any action.

"Hard to teach a class on gettin' held prisoner at sea." The words fell cold, features displaying the full level at which she was unamused. "Do I know ya'?"

"I suppose I'm drier thank you remember. Oh, and my eyes are blue now, so I suppose I should forgive you for forgetting me. Though it was a good kiss," Vyn pointed out, tossing the flat stone she palmed across the surface of the water. "Now that I think about it, I think I technically have a contract to kill you. Damnedest thing though; there seems to be no trace of my employer, so I suppose you luck out there."

That was the confirmation needed, the Quel’dorei merely an illusion.

Without missing a beat the Director had blinked through the shadows and had the elven woman pinned to the wall along the other side of the boardwalk. A dagger drawn within a second from the shadows and the blade pressed firmly against the woman's throat. Kat's left eye glazed over in a void-purple hue, a clear indication that the unnatural speed of her reflexes had a magical aid. Her gaze narrowed harshly and her tone dropped low, nearly a primal growl. "Ya' have thirty seconds to explain yer business here before I open yer throat like a gutted fish. Whether or no' I believe ya' will be seen. I lost friends in both Teldrassil and Lordaeron, ya' monsters don' deserve any mercy after that."

Teeth bared in a grunt, yet Vynette managed to forced herself to remain composed, despite the steel pressed against her throat.

"Okay, okay. No foreplay, straight to business," She grumbled, Kat’s gaze narrowing and the blade twisting just enough to shave the top layer of skin. "Alright! You're not the only one who's suffered an upheaval lately. I'm still looking into the who and how, but I was framed for being an Alliance spy. Every source I have says I'm kill on sight."

Vyn considered trying to slip away from Kat or get herself out of her compromising position, but showing her competency seemed less important at the moment than proving she was not a threat or an enemy. "It's a dangerous world to be in the Horde's crosshairs right now without protection. I've never been a Horde loyalist. I'm a pragmatist. If I'm already accused of being an Alliance spy, it seems smarter to find a role as one. The only place more dangerous than being on one side is being between both."

Meeting the Director’s gaze, Vyn did not shy away from the deep void hue that stared back at her. She was an assassin; she knew the shadows well enough not to fear them. "In my research for the previously mentioned hit job, you seemed like the kind of woman who could value a useful resource. Also, sun and stars, you're strong."

"Get kicked to the curb fer no' bein' loyal, so try yer luck on the other side an' hope the same doesn' happen. No' loyal before, why would ya' be now?" Kat stepped further in, applying pressure against the woman pinned to the masonry. "Keep jumpin' the fence an' ya'll eventually get impaled upon it. Perhaps it's better fer ya' that ya' didn' fully pursue said contract, wouldn' have ended well."

"It was a suspicious contract anyway," Vyn dismissed, her breathing controlled to minimize any contact with Kat's blade. "I'm not loyal to factions, that's fair enough. I can be loyal to people."

That seemed to catch the Director’s attention, loyalty to people over a cause or faction.

Vyn's blue eyes dropped, meeting the planks below their feet. "I am my work. I had two lives and one of those is fucked now. All I am now is an asset looking for use. I don't question orders and I don't have qualms with what I'm told to do. You could kill me and the world has one less elf, and good for you. Your files suggest you're more practical than that. It's an offer worth at least considering, isn't it?"

The Director's gaze searched the blue hues of the illusioned woman, remaining narrowed in both suspicion and caution, refusing to move or let Vynette free. "Ya' claim to be loyal to people, yet where is the evidence of such?"

"My employers," Vyn replied immediately, shifting her gaze upward to lock with Kat’s. "I've never given them up. I've never turned on them. I've never compromised my ability to perform a job. I had people I worked with consistently. I'm never going to bite the hand that feeds me."

"And wot of them now?"

"One wants me dead. One I'm amicable with. I have no intentions of giving up either; that's part of my own contract I keep til I die." The assassin sighed, feel a rare and raw sense of loss.

A low hum rolled in the back of the Director's throat as she considered Vynette's words and proposition. "Consider them all dead, fer yer own sake." The words were spoken dry as the finger around the hilt of the dagger released, the weapon vanishing in a dark and thick cloud of shadows. Backing away, she freeing the woman from the vice like pin against the wall, arms crossing beneath her bust as weight was shifted to one leg. The left eye returned to it's amber tone but the death like glare remained. "I'll need a reason to trust ya', yer only gettin' one chance. Don' fuck it up." Turning as she spoke, the Kat carried on in her initial path.

Vyn let out a breath of relief, glad to have finished her conversation without a new battle wound. She raised a hand to the faint slice on her throat with a nod. "Don't intend to, ma'am." She assumed she'd get more details eventually; for now, she would not press the issue.

Amber hues glanced back over her shoulder. "Ya' were intended to follow..." Her tone indicating clear annoyance, though gait remained unchanged.

"Oh. Duh. Right." Vyn took hastened steps to fall back in line with Kat as she walked.

"Hopefully ya' read a target better than a situation." She mumbled. "Just so happens a have yer one chance now." A bare hand slipped down to retrieve the envelope from pocket within the coat, holding it up between two fingers at the woman. "Don' read it, don' open it."

Taking the offered item in one hand Vynette further inquired. "Not reading it, not opening it. What do you need me to do with it, ma'am?"

"Switch it out." She stated, bluntly. Stopping their path at the bottom of a flight of stairs, Kat nodded upward. "Second buildin' on the right. One yet switchin' with will be on the third floor, either on or in a desk of the main physicians office."

Ambers quickly returned, pinning the elf beneath her gaze. "Don' fuck it up."

Vyn glanced at the envelope, carefully storing it so it remained unbent. “On it, boss.”

Second building on the right, third floor, unless Vyn misheard due to the director’s accent. She would have to get used to that. After assessing the buildings, she slipped into the alleyway between the third and fourth buildings to the left. The area around her target building was too well lit and visible for her liking. The alleyway she chose was dark, dank, and the wall fixtures on the third building were better for climbing.

And climb she did, carefully moving from handhold to foothold until she made it to the shingled roof of the building, looking out at her target. She pulled up her hood and the mask she liked to wear beneath it, scanning the windows. One open window on the fourth floor. Not ideal, but it would do. Taking a steadying breath, Vyn got a running start on the roof, leaping and vanishing into a puff of smoke as she slipped into the shadows. Given her namesake, it only made sense she was familiar with the shadow magic of her craft.

With a quiet tumble, Vyn was in an abandoned office on the fourth floor. She moved to the door and pressed her ear to it. No sounds from the hallway and nothing causing the floorboards to shake. Silently, she opened the door and slipped into the hall, looking for a staircase.

Vyn left the stairwell and entered the third floor just in time to hear footsteps approaching. Jumping up, she braced herself against the walls of the narrow hallway to remain overhead, slipping into stealth, holding her breath as guards walked through the hall, under her, and into the stairwell. When she was certain the coast was clear, she fell silently to the floor and made a beeline for the room Kat directed her to find.

Sure enough, when she determined which room was the office of the main physician, there was an envelope sitting squarely on the desk in front of the chair. Nothing seemed to be a trap, but she still handled the envelope cautiously as she replaced it. With the swap complete and with the faint reverberations of footfalls returning to the floor, Vyn opened the window and slipped out. Hanging from the ledge, she closed the window, just as she found it, and fell to the ground below.

Vyn gave herself three minutes to ensure there was no alarm sounded or ruckus caused by her appearance, and once she was clear, she found Kat and handed her the physician’s envelope. She had no clue what was in the envelope, but that did not matter. “Done and done, ma’am.”

With a deep hum of moderate approval, the Director took the envelope from the woman, quickly stashing it away into the lining of her pocket after ensuring it had remained sealed.

"Well done. I'll be in touch. Don' go far." She spoke flat, with the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. Pivoting on one leg Kat took her leave towards to center of Boralus, her gait quick and with purpose.

[ @lovelydeadlysocialite ]

[lovelydeadlysocialite]

Change the Narrative - Pt. I

Vyn ran her tasks through her mind yet again. There were three major tasks, and several steps in each task. Casually, she had a reputation for being flashy and thoughtless, but that was not how a professional operated and she was just that: professional. She liked creating lists. Improvisation was impossible to avoid, but she always started from her to-do list and worked from there.

Engage the target

Stow the body

Infiltrate and take care of the evidence

Sipping her sweet alcohol, Vyn shifted on the barstool and straightened out the hem of her dress. It was an unassuming tavern frequented primarily by humans. Boring, but this was not a leisure night. As a high elf, she naturally caught attention she was growing accustomed to in human cities. She made sure to temporarily tint her hair red and dot her face with false freckles. Like this, she ironically might pass more believably as the sister of a pre-void Roxlyn. Well, minus the cartoonish proportions.

Over the rim of her glass, Vyn noticed the target: Detective Jon Donson. Over a decade of experience. Annoyingly competent. By all accounts she gathered, a somewhat rigid man with strong moral foundation. Also annoying.

But a job was a job, and she could make this work. She could feel the garter holsters under her dress, though the missing weight of her familiar daggers was replaced by lighter, more awkward cylinders. Drink in hand, Vyn stood and sauntered over to the small table Donson sat at.

Naturally, the stoic man was drinking alone. He had his habits, like any person. After working late, he would indulge in a drink before returning to his family. “Excuse me, sir,” Vyn asked in a light, bubbly tone, “Are you sitting alone?”

The man looked up and gave her a once over with all the passion of a happily married man. His lack of interest was honestly a bit offensive to Vyn. “Mhmm. Just trying to enjoy a drink in peace.”

“Of, of course!” Her reply was still cheerful and despite the acknowledgement, fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist nervously. “I just overheard from the barkeep that you are a police officer?”

He eyed the barkeep. “Detective. Yes.”

“Oh, lovely! I just wanted to thank you for your service, sir.” She offered a hand and maintained eye contact. “My people have not always had the greatest fortune, but I appreciate the people who keep us all safe in Stormwind.”

Donson met her eyes and took a moment to judge them before his expression softened. “Well, you’re welcome, Miss. I just want to ensure we have law and security. Too much chaos these days.”

As Vyn pulled her hand back, she twisted her wrist slightly, positioning her bracelet so a small amount of powder slipped from a hole when she was over the man’s ale. She smiled sweetly. “Well, I know I for one can appreciate a break from the chaos. Mind if I sit with you for a few minutes?”

Vyn engaged the man in conversation, hearing about his wife and children and sharing false details about the family she lost in the fall of Silvermoon. She wanted to buy time while the powder started working its way into his system. He loosened up. His speech was less formal. Inhibitions lowering. Vyn was able to coerce him into a second drink, because she excelled when inhibitions were low.

On her way back to the table, she dosed his new drink. The fog was setting in and he failed to notice that Vyn was leaving her own drink untouched. She leaned in close to ask in a whisper if he would walk her home and keep her safe. The display might appear scandalous at a distance.

Donson’s steps out of the tavern were unsteady. His words were slurred. Convinced the man would be off his guard now, she pushed him into a secluded alley they were passing by. They were two forms in the shadows, the smaller pressed close to the larger. She made sure the hand with her syringe was hidden by Donson when she inserted it into his neck.

The detective fell against the wall and slowly lost consciousness.

“Finally.” Vyn sighed, finally relaxing and sliding against the wall to sit next to her prey. Donson had slid to the ground, making him look like a drunk perfectly suited for the alleys.

“These jobs are so much quicker when it’s just a kill.” She glanced out of the alleyway and saw the sky with no remaining signs of sunset. “I’m sure you’re not going to complain, but honestly. The stalking and the small talk and now the sneaking you out of the city. “

Vyn shook her head. “That ren’dorei woman better appreciate the effort.” Really, she didn’t care how the client felt, though no one liked ingrates. As long as her Boss approved, it was worth it.

Getting out of the city required diligence and stealth while carrying an adult man, but once she was out of the city, the trip to the mountains west of Northshire was easy.

Vyn shoved Donson off her hawkstrider, letting his body fall to the floor. (Surely an unexplained bruise would not seem out of place when she painted this as a messy bender.) She doted and ran her hand across the white feathers of her mount. “Oh, Alala, you poor thing. Carrying unappealing cargo for me and ruffling your pristine feathers. You’re such a good girl.”

After a few more minutes of giving the bird affection, she finally picked up Donson and dragged him into the hovel her Boss told her about. She had preparations ready for her arrival, knowing the detective’s stay would be an extended one.

For safety, she bound his hands and legs to the chair. She had dosed him again on the trip to ensure he did not wake up with a groggy understanding of where he was. It was enough to deliver him, but now that she could settle him in, she could make the situation more sustainable.

She set up two drips to feed into him until she could return to replace them. One was for sustenance; she went through effort to keep him alive, so it would defeat the purpose if he withered away. The second was a variation of the drug in the syringe Kat gave her. Something less immediately potent but that could be steadily fed into him, keeping him incapacitated.

Three people were working under the lead detective, but he was the one with the clearest understanding of the investigation. Not having him around would make everything easier.

With Donson taken care of, Vyn finally went through his posessions. He had a few personal effects, but more importantly, he had his identification and keys. She swiped both. (She then took his handcuffs because, honestly, who could not do with an extra set of handcuffs?)

Vyn thought back to her list and smiled:

Engage the target

Stow the body

Infiltrate and take care of the evidence

Two of three done! With her obstacle out of the way, she could finish up her mission chain and hand the situation back to Kat. She mounted Alala and turned back to Stormwind.

(Mentions for @kat-hawke and @cassielethalryn )

[lovelydeadlysocialite]

Change the Narrative - Pt. III

(Previous Parts- I, II)

Being non-descript was an important trait for someone whose job required stealth, even if it made Vynette uncomfortable to be so plain. Mousy brown hair, plain clothes, and a cap. She was still a high elf, which made her a rare sight, but she wanted to fly as under the radar as possible for her kind.

Vyn was comfortable with the shadows, as any good rogue should be, but Kat’s powers were different. She was not able to watch her work, but the lingering presence of magic in the atmosphere gave Vyn goosebumps. She was unsure of what transpired, but if they were dropping off Donson in an alley, she must have whammied Donson something fierce. She was an interesting woman well worth following.

And follow she did, walking into the office Detective Donson was working out of. Well, he was not working today; he was still waking up in an alley, feeling hungover and discombobulated. It was after hours; Vyn had scouted out the building to ensure she waited until the last of the employees inside called it quits for the day. Without Donson, they seemed aimless.

Waiting for a moment when no passersby might notice a non-descript elf courier carrying a parcel, Silhouette used a copy of Donson’s key to open the door to the building and locked it behind her.

Silhouette had considered talking her way in during the day, but it was pointless; that would involve the risk of people recalling her presence, which was dumb when she had a literal key to the building. Not all break-ins were this easy, but not all break-ins were preceded by an abduction.

With everyone gone for the night, Silhouette could be thorough in checking cabinets, drawers, and piles of paper on desks. She accumulated any documents regarding the Void Elf Investigation and skimmed through the documents, looking for keywords. Not everything had to be replaced; some were character testimonials, some had reports of irrelevant information in the grand scheme of things.

Taking out her parcel, Silhouette opened it. Inside, there was an inkwell and parchment obtained to match the standard parchment used by the detective’s team. Carefully, she took documents involving Cassiele and her mother. Reports of their relationship, claims of family disputes or tension, speculation of motive, and possible physical evidence connecting her to the crime.

From what she had been instructed, they were not rewriting the narrative to make Cassiele uninvolved, but instead directed from a higher power. Silhouette replicated the writing of existing files, making minor but substantial edits. Instead of operating of her own volition or having her own operations to protect, Cassiele was acting as an extension of Ren’dorei interests.

Silhouette made a new document and included it in Donson’s records. Reports of conspiracy and intentions to commit treasonous acts by Cassiele’s mother. Documented reports from those previously close to the woman who would overthrow and assassinate Magister Umbric. Upon interviews with Ren’dorei officials, “Donson” had received intel that Cassiele’s orders were given through official but confidential channels. She was close enough to her mother to deal with a threat to Ren’dorei society, and she handled that burden for her people.

Instead of a matricide, it becomes a sacrifice. Instead of a criminal, Cassiele is a patriot who did what had to be done. Just like that, enough truth combined with enough redirection shifted the story in Cassiele’s favor. Alliance law enforcement would likely understand and respect the Ren’dorei right to govern their people and deal with threats to their own leadership structure in-house.

Silhouette finished stowing away old evidence into her parcel so she could dispose of it at a safe location and returned new, better evidence to drawers and spots on the desk. Her timing was fortunate, as the lock to the main room rattled just as her last document was placed in its folder. Silently, Silhouette grabbed her parcel and slipped out of Donson’s private office window while some over-eager assistant entered into the main office.

Pleased with herself, Silhouette set off to dispose of old paper and report her tasks to Kat.

Mentioned: @kat-hawke @cassielethalryn

[kat-hawke]

Change the Narrative - Pt. II

( Events following [Change the Narrative - Pt.1] )

Under the cover of the star lit sky Kat made the journey to the secluded hovel in the northern mountains, an hour after the deadline given to Vynette to deliver the target. The location she kept off the books, one that was minimally maintained from her personal funding and used sparingly in the past. Looking as if it was abandoned from the outside, carefully cultivated vines gave the appearance that nature was beginning to reclaim the small building, windows crafted to appear dark and broken, the door intact but hidden with a well placed sapling.

Dismounting her courser she grabbed a bag that was slung over the back of the saddle, faint sounds of glass clinking emanated from within as it was moved. Silent footfalls carried the Director towards the building, the occasional sound of a crunched leaf left in her path as the sapling was pushed aside and the door shoved open.

Her gaze instantly found the man gagged and bound to the chair that was off center of the room, still unconscious from the second does of sedative and properly maintained from the drip her elven operative had stuck him with. Lips flatted as she inspected Donson with the door closing behind her, letting out an exasperated sigh through the nose as she moved towards the table nearest the hostage.

The bag she carried was set off to the side, popping the button that held it shut and carefully removing the contents. Two small glass bottles were placed in a particular order in front of her, the first label reading ‘Baclofen’ and the second ‘Sodium Thiopental’. A set of syringes were retrieved from the bag next, one meticulously placed beside each bottle before her hand moved to collect the final container; a glass jar sealed with truesilver, within a small creature floated about, resembling a mana wyrm though it’s coloration a dark violet and the void radiating in it’s eyes. A gift from mutual friend on Telogrus.

Slender digits lifted the first syringe and bottle of Baclofen, the needle tip uncapped and pushed through the sealed lid, the plunger retracted as a dose of the chemical was loaded. With a faint sound the glass vessel was placed back on the table, armed with the syringe Kat turned to face the unconscious victim, taking a step to close the distance. Her free hand rested on the side of Donson’s head, tilting it to expose the neck and puncture the flesh with the tip of the needle and plunge the contents into the bloodstream.

With a quiet breath she moved to set the emptied syringe beside the bottle again, the chemical would block nerve signals from the spinal cord that would cause muscles to spasm, making it easier to work without the body reacting and causing damage against his bindings. Her hand moved to collect the second chemical on the table, repeating the action of loading the clean syringe as she enjoyed the silence, the only sound in the room was the occasional tap of the glass from the void tainted creature.

Standing over the man she counted downward in her mind, waiting for an ample amount of time to pass before delivering the second injection, a much smaller dosage to not euthanize the subject, but to decrease higher cortical brain functioning and make the manipulation of the mind much easier. Even in a sedated condition the mind was still active, a lesson she learned the first time this was attempted years ago.

With a low hum as the the contents of the syringe was delivered into the man’s neck she moved back to the table, setting the emptied needle in the same place it was taken from. Her gaze lingered on the void creature in it’s prison, her expression neutral as it seemed to stare back at her, as if it knew what was to come. A hand moved to the bag again, pulling a flask from the front pocket that was quickly uncapped for a swift swig and generous gulp of the whiskey within.

With the burn of the liquor coating her throat the Director capped the vessel and replaced it in the pocket from which it came, clearing her throat quietly as she glanced to the drugged gentleman in the chair, waiting out again until making her final move. Fingers of the left hand carefully curling around the truesilver lid of the glass prison, the creature within suddenly growing restless as it shifted in the small space, bouncing off the glass.

A steady breath was pushed from her lungs as her arm rose, bringing the container to eye level, the void wyrm staring Kat down as it fought against the glass. Her left eye glazed over in a void-purpled hue, the fingertips that clung to the lid flaring to life with the same coloration. In the blink of an eye the magical life force of the creature was siphoned through the truesilver and into the Director, grimacing at the display as the wyrm turned to ash and left nothing but an inert orb of it’s form in the jar.

Setting the contain aside Kat’s left arm rippled with the absorbed energy, the back of her hand and lower arm cracked across the skin with Void. For a moment she admired the sight, though it was little power she still felt a high. Tearing her mind away from the whispers that began to emerge in the back of her thoughts, her attention shifted again to Donson, stepping in closer and pressing the void laced fingertips to his temple.

Combative use of her magic was only a secondary skill set, her original training was that of the mind and how to alter it. Diving through the man’s recent memories she snorted at how easily he had fallen for Vynette’s rouse, shaking her head as she pushed on until locating those that involved the interrogation of Cassiele and the others, along with the collection of evidence.

Outright removing a memory was beyond the Director’s ability, nor would she wish to as it would only cause further problems. Altering them however was where she excelled. Her hand turned against the man’s head as she began to work the memories like a swordsmith at a forge, carefully pulling part pieces and changing what he’d remember, changing the narrative of the story. For all he would know upon awaking, everything he’d have collected in the investigation would instead suggest the Ren’dorei were working under orders of the Crown after discovering a traitor within, the matricide a necessary endeavor to protect several innocent lives.

The hard evidence was altered by Vynette, along with the few minor investigator involved, sealing up holes in the story in the process. All that was required was for the Ren’dorei involved to play along with the newly crafted narrative. Out of the several options she had, Kat felt this the best, less mess, no bodies, and no fuss. Without anyone available to shift the blame from Cassiele, controlling the story was the better option.

Moments later the reconstruction of Donson’s memories was completed and Kat began to clean up the few things she had on the table, the excess void energy spent in the action and gone from her form. The sound of an approaching hawkstrider caught her attention, the elven operative soon appearing in the doorway as the Director collected the bag. Her gaze shifted to Vynette as she moved for the exit.

“Replace his keys and identification, take is wallet and anything of value and prop him in an alley somewhere. He’ll believe he was mugged by a pretty face which is not uncommon in the City.”

It was all she had to say, knowing well enough that the woman would fill in the rest on her own and follow Kat’s order to the letter. Giving the elf a nod as she took her leave.

“Yes ma’am.” Vynette answered directly, stepping aside to allow the Director leave before moving to collect the body a second time.

[ @lovelydeadlysocialite ] [ Mentioned: @cassielethalryn ]

[kat-hawke]

Flawless mission? Not with your dice rolls.

what would an ideal day, in their mind, be like?

“A perfect day? Hm. A lavish breakfast cooked by the chefs of whichever benefactor I stayed with the night before. A flawless mission during the day and dancing at an evening party. Then I think ideally, I wrap things up doing paperwork late into the night with the Director. Yeah, that sounds ideal enough to me.”

(Mention: @kat-hawke )

[lovelydeadlysocialite]

“Operative Mistcaller, Codename: Silhouette, ready to cause trouble, ma’am!”

EmilyCammisaArt really blew me away with this one. Enjoy some fantastic Vyn art!

[lovelydeadlysocialite]

Beaten to the Bust

“I can’t believe I get to run an operation with the infamous Director’s Pet of Unit Eight.”

Silhouette eyed Sarida, her “fellow” high elf, from over her shoulder. Westfall had fewer places to hide and survey from, because Westfall was a piece of shit region with next to nothing in it. What it did have was a rumored drug lab the Director wanted Vyn and her colleague to raid. 

The lab, thankfully, was situated along the river between Westfall and the Elwynn Forest, allowing two elves more than familiar with the woods to perch in a tree and watch for activity. They were waiting a while before Sarida said much to Vyn, which spoke to a general distrust. High elves were not plentiful anymore, so the much older elf clearly questioned how she was unaware of Vyn’s presence until recently.

Of course, waiting this long made anyone antsy. Vyn, to her credit, smirked through the jab. “Infamous? You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she teased. “It’s not my fault Director Hawke values a job well done.”

“Even when the job is watching a cabin do nothing for hours?”

“Yep.” Whatever she was told to do, that was what she would do. Though this was odd… “We have the right place,” she muttered, “and reports suggested people came in and out every few hours.”

“Thinking we’ve been made?”

“I’ve never been made in my godsdamn life.” Well, except that time she was sold out to the Horde military. “I think something might be up, though. And we can’t wait forever; we’re on a clock and we have to make this bust, with or without an opening. We have to get close…”

Even in an open area, this was her specialty. She did not have the same familiarity of the shadows that Kat had, but Silhouette could get them closer to the structure. Thankfully, the edge of the river still had greenery to obscure them as she shrouded them, sticking close as they walked from branch to branch, falling silently to the other bank.

Approaching the back of the building, Silhouette could feel the chill condensing around Sarida as she prepared her magic for whatever they might come across. Silhouette was never as adept with magic as her sisters, but she did have two sharp blades ready to  cut a swath through any resistance. (Of course, the goal was to apprehend, so ideally, she could keep the majority of them alive.)

That would not be an issue, she realized, when she burst through a window into the small building. It was impossible to keep people alive when they were already all dead. And everyone in the drug lab was dead. 

Half a dozen dead bodies. Multiple gunshots, multiple stab wounds. What the everloving… okay, she had to focus. Her guard remained up, directing Sarida to check the back room. While she did that, Vyn checked the wounds. She might not have been a mage, but she was a blood elf; if magic was used in an attack this gruesome, she would be able to detect it. Nothing.

Looking around the room, there were some crates of product, but not nearly as many as she expected based on reports. Was this place robbed? Who would do that? More importantly, why did the remaining crates give her the spine-shuddering sensation that she was in the presence of the void?

In the center of the room, surrounded by the corpses, Vyn noticed a red bowler and her mind went to work remembering all the files Kat had her study. Gracie “Red” Brooks. A crime lord like her had this place on her radar? This seemed like a brazen hit, but something seemed off.

“Hey, Mistcaller? Might wanna get that ass of yours back here.”

Vyn walked to the backroom, rolling her eyes. “If that’s a shot at my backside right now, I… I… wow.”

A k’thir. A dead k’thir with a dagger stabbed into it. Well, she hoped it was dead, but Vyn did not know the signs of life for a goddamn being of the void. “Agent Evensky, we need to get in touch with the Director. Like… three hours ago.”

[Mentions: @kat-hawke​]