AN: Set during the time of the Starlight Slasher murders in Gilneas. Also, my attempt at a Gilnean accent. :B
This is kind of short though. :C
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Gilneas always seemed to be a foggy, colourless land steeped in history-it was well known Amelia Young herself was a true blooded loyalist through and through. Raised in a middle-class family of merchants she knew she lived a relatively good life preparing medicine or alchemical goods. Tonight, however, the store had closed late.
Amelia, shouldering her bag, found herself having to walk through the more-or-less quite city of Gilneas as candles were respectively put out. Smelling firewood from a chimney in the distance she continued on towards one of the more subdued parts of the residential districts. She knew better then to have gone out from the store late at night what with the current murders going on. It was a risky action to take.
"It's not like I particularly care," she drawled to herself with a lazy gaze at a flickering streetlamp "That could niver possibly happen to me." Brushing away dark hair that had gotten onto her face she noticed a heavily clothed homeless man ahead, hands rubbing together to stop the cold. Almost pitying him she held her head up high as she passed by.
It is just a peasant- she thought callously -He has obviously dug his own grave. She sneered at the smell of alcohol and cigarettes as a hand grabbed her leg. "A digustin' old man," she muttered to herself "-should keep his hands to himself!" Shaking her leg free she turned to face him as he got up. He was a ragged creature covered in various scarfs and a overcoat with faded out pants. His shoes had holes in them while his feet seemed to have been rubbed raw with a blue tinge on their edges.
Even half-starved the man was truly a bear in retrospect to her.
"It's because of ya' damn loyalists that innocent people are starvin' out in the streets," his voice was coarse from years of smoking while his eyes were almost red from either the blood vessels or crying "-ya' have no care in the world while others are dyin' because of yer selfishness." He moved forward to grab her shoulder as she stilled, eying his hand, her mouth curled into a toothy frown while her eyebrows knitted together.
She looked up at his face, scraggly and unshaven, before spitting out "This seems to bear repeatin' seein' as all of ya' rebels are deaf old bats," she drew upwards as she straightened her back "-I repeat, get your filthy, peasant hands off me!" He sputtered as his face darkened before raising his fist to hit her. Amelia deftly twisted his wrist before getting hit in the jaw. Staggering as static spots filled her vision she shook her head to clear it. Eying the man, who was getting ready to hit her again, she gave him a hard kick him in the stomach. Smiling as she watched him fall she dropped her bag before rifling through it. Taking out a aged knife she gently ran her index finger across the sharpened edge. She could taste it already as a giddy excitement filled her to the brim.
"Ya' know," she began with a coy smile "-people like ya' are just too easy to rile up." Moving towards him the man looked on with wide eyes as his chest began to heave. She casted a shadow over him as he tried to press himself into the cobblestone below them.
"Yer," he blubbered with teary eyes "-yer the Starlight Slasher!" Looking at him gave her a sense euphoria as the pathetic, little man began to beg for his life "Have mercy! Please, don't kill me!" She sneered at him "Do ya' really thin' all of those deaths were caused by me? Coward," she spat in his face "-at the first sign of real trouble that's all ya' rebels do."
She drew upwards "I however," with a gesture to herself then him she continued"-have realized the opportunity our wonderful king Genn Greymane has given us even if he does no' realize it himself." She gave a clicking sound of irritation as she brushed back stray strands of hair "This is goin' to be much more fun for me than it will be for ya'." A nearby streetlamp gave the impression of her shadow descending upon him as he let out a yell of pure terror, eyes so widened they may have very well popped right out of his skull. Those who dared to stay up late these past evenings curled up at the sound of a man screaming in the night. They were too afraid to bother to help.
For Amelia, however, no one knew where she could have gone. It was perplexing for such a young thing to leave without word to those who knew her. It was as if she never existed to begin with-
-or maybe no one really knew her at all.
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AN: I debated on what kind of name the woman should have had-there were several choices with her first and last name. I decided to go with "Amelia" because it seems like a very flowery, womanly name of a upstanding person. For her last name "Young" I felt it gave the sense of being helpless and innocent especially when confronting someone like the homeless Northgate rebel who was a bear compared to her.