The Romancer Shadowstep

(Disclaimer: This story is based upon a game called World of Warcraft. Therefore, I do not claim any rights to their story, or game.)

Hello, and welcome to the last story in The Romancer series. I decided not to spend a lot of time on the Horde side of the story since there is enough excitement for a few episodes, but not half a series. I do hope to write Horde fanfiction in the future, however. Anyways, if you are just tuning in, don't worry because you won't feel lost. Each story in the series can stand on its own two feet, but please feel free to read The Romancer Onyxbane, The Romancer Greatfather Winter, and The Romancer Opalbane if you're curious.

In this final story, Master Rogue Shadowstep, head of the Kaldorei Rogue Network in Darnassus, has finally grown tired of waiting for the woman of his dreams to come around. It is time to implement plan B17 Alpha, nicknamed 'the Mission Implausible.' However, Priestess Feathershine's cooky family, Old Gods, demons, the Horde, the Burning Legion--and worse yet--young people are getting in the way! What's a brilliant but bitter rogue mastermind to do?

Episode One: Bitter… party of one!

Dearest Jebbidiath,

I know that I said I was going to Ashenvale to visit my parents, but you can see from the envelope that I'm actually writing from Feralas. So… you know now that I've been lying to you. It's your fault though. You've given me all the time in the world to think about your proposal of marriage. I said no many times, didn't I? At least I thought that I did. But after every conversation we had, you would push the engagement necklace back into my hands and say, 'Deliah, just think about it. Take all the time you need.'

But I know you. You meant for me to take all the time I needed in order to come up with the answer you wanted. The summer you first gave me turned into a year, and then three years. What on Azeroth have we been doing together during all that time? Chatting like friends, but spending nights together like lovers. While on vacation, men have started to call on me, but what can I even say to them? That I have a boyfriend? No, this is not true. Perhaps that I am engaged? No, that is false as well. What I have is a friend, a stubborn, manipulative friend who refuses to let me go. I see now that I gave you my answer, my heartfelt answer three years ago when you offered me your wreathe. You did everything in your power to keep me after I rejected you… I'm not so cold that I don't understand why you fought so hard for us.

But Jebbidiath Shadowstep, it is time to move on.

You are very special to me. You always will be. You were mine at our very first Springtime, and the love we made then was beautiful. You weren't my first kiss, but you were the very best. You were a friend when I needed you and always a gentleman. However, we've had lots of little chats about how controlling you can be. Everyone has a little flaw, don't they? But, usually, a boy in his fifteenth season doesn't get a girl to go with him for their first Springtime by convincing all the other available young men that she's got a contagious disease. Nor does the love of your life, the man you want to marry, stalk you whenever you're not out on a date together. How could I ever dream of engaging myself to you, Shadowstep? You are handsome and strong-willed, but I just don't feel safe around you. I cannot be in love with a man whom I fear will use me for his own personal ambition before he helps me. It has finally become too painful to be with you…

The Master Rogue had to put down the old letter then. He leaned back in his chair, and put his feet up on the desk. Both creaked softly with the sigh of aged wood. Every wall of the dark office was covered with stacks of books or bookshelves. The lone window, a round cheerful purple paned glass portal had been completely stifled. The muted Darnassian sunshine attempted to break through. Shadowstep felt the warmth of the light on the back of his neck and scowled.

I've enclosed the beautiful necklace you gave me. I've worn it for three years now, but it was never really mine, was it? It belongs in your family, and I can never be that person for you. I am truly sorry to have done it this way, Jebidiath, from across The Great Sea. But, I knew that if I tried to tell you in person, you'd trick me out of it somehow, and you see…

"That, in itself is the crux of our dysfunction." Shadowstep finished the letter aloud. He knew that last line by heart.

Your Friend,

Novice Priestess Feathershine, from Feathermoon Stronghold in Feralas.

Shadowstep's office door flew open then. Second Commander Myrielle Fadeleaf waltzed in on her thigh-high red leather boots. Her hips swayed gently as she made her way over to her mentor's desk.

"Shadowstep. SI: 7 is bothering us about the serial killer case in Stormwind again. Everytime we think the matter is settled, SI: 7 comes along and starts picking at our cover up again. This time, it wasn't enough for them to send a letter complaining that the suicide of the Night Elf murderer who just happened to take his cohorts with him was convenient. Now, they've sent a live person to have a look at our guild roster. I tried, but he's not falling for my usual charm. The Kaldorei Rogue Network needs the steel of a coldhearted bastard to set those Humans right… Shadowstep? Are you listening to me? You've got work to do."

Master Rogue Shadowstep took a while to respond. He sniffled, rubbed his nose and looked away, toward the covered window.

"Just send him away."

"What? Darnassus is on shaky terms with the Humans as it is, after that mess agent Alessandre got us into over in Stormwind. We can't afford to start turning our backs on them—" Myrielle paused when she saw the old letter in Shadowstep's hand.

"No… don't tell me you were reading that again, were you?"

"What the Master Rogue does in the privacy of his office—"

"She's gone, Shadowstep, and that was seventy years ago. All Priestess Feathershine is to you right now is good sex… and I can't even really say that much because I'm not there when it happens." Night Elves lived long immortal lives until recently when the World Tree was destroyed. Shadowstep was about a hundred years old, but he'd only aged slightly, akin to a mature Human man in his forties.

Shadowstep flushed. "Myrielle, this really isn't appropriate."

Myrielle folded her arms across her full chest and sighed. "Fine. I don't like it when we talk about my love life either. But, boss, she's just not that into you. The mysterious Master Rogue thing didn't work for Priestess Feathershine before you even became the head of our organization, several decades ago. Stop beating yourself up about it. I mean, it's more than understandable. Priestesses of Elune tend to have hearts of gold that are far too pristine for them to be slumming it with us shady types."

Shadowstep stood from his desk. "It's time, Myrielle." His steely gaze met hers. "I'm enacting Mission B17 Alpha."

"You mean your master plan to get Feathershine to run away with you? I've nicknamed that 'Mission Impossible.'" She chuckled.

Shadowstep scowled. " 'Mission Implausible' is better… I believe there's at least a very good chance it'll work, or else I will have wasted the last few years of my life planning it. Look here, just get me that codebook. You'll have to stay behind and handle things while I'm gone. I want to review the stages of the mission with you one last time."

Myrielle pouted with her beautiful cherry lips. "Wait! I thought that was just a little inside joke of ours? You mean, you were serious that whole time?!" she floundered.

Shadowstep's ominous steely gaze never left her.

Myrielle smacked her forehead. "The mission has only one stage: allow Feathershine to believe that she's won. It is both complex and efficient, exactly your style. Of course… of course I should have realized you meant it." She raised both eyebrows.

"You remembered." Shadowstep grinned with pride.

Myrielle walked over and hugged her boss. "You might not think so, but I care about what happens to you. You've taught me everything that I know, and I see what you go through to make things work around here. I know that you are a perfectionist and that your biggest frustration is the lack of talent in the KRN. There aren't enough Night Elf rogues who understand you and your vision."

Shadowstep looked at Myrielle sideways. "Is your nose quite brown enough yet?"

Myrielle put a hand on her hip. "I meant all of it. That's why I'm working so hard to make sure you appoint me as the next Master Rogue. If you're going to run off with the love of your life—against her will or not—and retire, then your job should go to someone who fully understands. Don't you think so?"

Shadowstep carefully walked around Myrielle and stepped out into the hallway. "I would still like to consider agent Alessandre and agent Wisthera for the position. Where's that SI: 7 fellow you were talking about?"

Myrielle leaned out into the hallway and pointed in the direction of the main foyer. While the Cenarion Enclave was composed of two intertwined treehouses for druid and hunter trainers, the rogues and the KRN occupied the lowest level, their offices almost nearly submerged underneath the great tree's roots.

"Hello sir. I am Master Rogue Shadowstep." The Master Rogue's commanding voice carried down the dark hallway as he walked over. After the brief greeting, Shadowstep said, "The KRN is a haven for Kaldorei rogues of exceptional talent and passion for things affecting only Night Elves. Therefore, I don't see that you have any place in our offices. After you put yourself out, I expect to receive the inevitable complaint in writing, on SI: 7 letterhead and sealed with Master Mathias Shaw's official mark." The Human man went away swearing. Myrielle smiled.

Shadowstep wasn't finished with the Human yet though. Shadowstep stopped the agent at the door. "I don't know how you all do things over in Stormwind, but in Darnassus, the KRN runs a tight ship. If my people can't follow orders, they live to regret it, or else they break their necks trying. And in my house, young man, we play by my rules." Then, Shadowstep folded his hands behind his back. "Of course for legal reasons, you will note that what I just said was a promise and not a threat. Have a nice day."

It was the most insincere goodbye Myrielle had ever heard. As she watched the Master Rogue turn sharply on his heels and the dark green ponytail of his whip around between he and his quarry she felt a flush of pride.

She saluted her guild leader, then followed Shadowstep back to his office. "Sir, if 'Mission Implausible' fails… I hope you won't think of it as a complete loss? Well, at least not for you. I am certain Priestess Feathershine will live to regret it."

"It won't fail, Second Commander. I've never failed any of my own missions, and I'm certainly not going to let that infuriating woman break my perfect record now that my career is at an end. You're in charge now. I'll be handing my report to you in about forty days."

Myrielle laughed. "How do you know it's going to take just that long?"

Shadowstep disappeared into his office, leaving Myrielle bewildered in the hallway.

"I thought I already explained this to you before, Myrielle. There are three kinds of rogues. The kind that are good at taking people out, the kind who are good at figuring people out, and the kind that pull the strings of strangers like a puppet master."

"You'd be the third type of rogue." Myrielle confirmed that she recalled their months-old conversation.

Master Rogue Shadowstep nodded. "Over the years, I've fixed it so that Priestess Feathershine can't leave Darnassus without incurring High Priestess Tyrande's wrath. If she wants to investigate the evidence I recently planted that suggests there is a threat against her foster children, she's got only one way out. That way out is through me. Since she's far too lofty to fake her own death," Shadowstep chuckled at his roguish joke, "I think she's going to ask me to marry her."

Myrielle gaped at this. "She wouldn't! She couldn't—"

"Alright, alright, perhaps marriage is a strong word. But at the least she is going to initiate a Wreathe Day. Then we'll be pre-engaged to be married for a year, in the Kaldorei tradition. Then, I'm sure that Feathershine will want to spend our little holiday anyplace but within the confines of Darnassus."

"And the forty day timeline is—"

"It takes about that long to sojourn to Felwood, then from there to Azshara, and finally to the Exodar, discovering what 'new information' she's going to think we need."

"With a few extra days left over for a romantic finale to your heroic saving of her children's lives?" Myrielle frowned.

"You are catching on, aren't you? Good work, Second Commander."

Myrielle squinted one eye as she considered how disturbing this was. "Shadowstep… while this may be an impressive show of your manipulative skill, I have to warn you that we women don't work that way. You can't just force someone to fall in love with you. And aren't you worried that if she finds out you were the one who tipped off the Stormwind Guard who sent her daughter Opalbane running across Azeroth as a fugitive nine months ago," Myrielle had to take a deep breath here, "Only for Opalbane to show up again in Silithus as a Twilight Cultist, and then that you used agent Wisthera to spy on Feathershine when they went to save Opalbane, and finally, that you used agent Alessandre keep Opalbane in danger while she recovered in Stormwind… all so that Priestess Feathershine would beg you to come to the rescue, though she never actually did… what was I saying again?"

Shadowstep scowled. "Feathershine won't be mad at me, because she's not going to find out."

Myrielle raised her hands, palms open defensively between them. "Hey, I've kept my mouth shut up until now. I'm happy to keep quiet for your sake."

Shadowstep stood behind the desk and picked up Priestess Feathershine's old letter. Even though she had been a teenager and a novice priestess at the time, she should have known that writing a letter was the worst possible way to break up with someone. Shadowstep rolled it up carefully, then tied the frayed blue ribbon around it. Blue was Priestess Feathershine's favorite color.

"Good. Because my sources tell me that a certain important meeting of mine will be interrupted tomorrow with whatever Feathershine thinks her surprise is. This is my last day as a single man."

Myrielle wrinkled her brow with worry. "I just don't know about this…"

"My methods for romancing Feathershine are for me to know and you to find out." He sharply cut her off. "Now, I believe you have some work to do somewhere else in the office?" it wasn't a question. Shadowstep sat back down at his desk and Myrielle excused herself.

"Soon…" Shadowstep brooded after the door closed. He propped his boots up on the desk and played with the letter in his fingers. Then he went in his desk drawer and retrieved the aqua green lock of Priestess Feathershine's hair. This was also tied with an old blue ribbon, but the hair sample was fresh. The Master Rogue closed his eyes and inhaled deeply of the woman's scent.

"I can hardly wait." He smiled alone in the darkness.

Your mission--should you choose to accept it--is to read and find out just how everything that can go wrong will go wrong… when a mean and bitter old man hastens toward his long overdue comeupings.