"Oh, not another one…" The guard grimaced, ran a hand through his pale hair, and turned to his partner. "This has to be the fifth dead magister this month."

His partner, a novice, was busy staring at the wall and trying to control his stomach. Such gory murders were commonplace in the aptly named Murder Row, but less common in the rest of the city. Or at least less visible. The novice darted a glance at the dead magister and lost the battle with his stomach. His partner shook his head.

The guard glanced down the street and frowned. He sat down on the sidewalk and watched the crowd move by, the passersby giving him a wide berth as they eyed his bright tabard warily. He grinned at their reactions; they all knew he could arrest them without reason or provocation, and in this alley, everyone had secrets they wanted to keep.

There was a rustling noise behind the guard; he whirled around and leapt to his feet in time to see an urchin grab the dead magister's gold ring and take off down the street, leaving bloody footprints.

"Hey! Stop!" The Knight started running after the kid. Even in full plate armor, he was much faster than the urchin, but the kid knew the layout of the street better. He dashed over the paved street, upsetting a few hawkstriders, and scaled the side of a building faster than seemed possible. Just as he reached the roof, a blue bolt flew up from the crowds and struck the urchin in the legs, forming a block of ice which froze the child to the roof. He stumbled and fell over as the guard whirled around to see who was responsible for the bolt.

A mage wearing the robes of the guard walked out of the crowd, watching the frozen urchin for a minute before turning to the Knight and smiling. "Hey, Ash, you seem to be losing your touch. That kid nearly got away!"

The guard, Ash, snarled back; "I would've gotten him if you gave me the chance!" He reached up and snatched the gold ring out of the urchin's hand. The kid stared back at him with round fearful eyes. Ash grinned viciously and reached for his sword. He'd teach the little piece of filth to never mess with a guard again…

"Hey, Ash, who's the ring for?" The mage had walked up, and proceeded to pluck the ring out of his friend's hand. "Finally decided to propose to your girlfriend?"

Ash whirled around. "Shut up, Thal, it's from the dead guy."

Thal nodded. "And where is this dead guy? I have a job to do, you know."

Ash narrowed his eyes, "Fine, I'll show you in a sec-" He turned around, intending to get his revenge on the urchin, but saw that the ice had melted and the kid had disappeared. He cursed loudly before turning back to his friend and pointing down the street. "The body's down there. Looks like a magister. He's missing his coin purse as well as most of his other belongings, but that's to be expected in this place." He muttered the last part as he spotted a pickpocket working her way through the crowds.

The mage nodded, and the two turned into the alleyway where the body was still laid out. The novice was leaning against a wall, staring at the sky and trying to breathe in a controlled manner. The body of the magister was still lying slumped against the opposite wall amid a pool of dried blood. The mage walked over and began to examine the body.

"A single stab wound to the back… Looks like a professional kill – Whoever inflicted this didn't have a shaky hand, like all the thistleheads in this place would've." He looked at the dead guy's face. "Hey! I recognize this guy! Magister Firehand; he donated a lot of money to the guard station that was stationed off the Bazaar." He grinned. " I heard he had an illegitimate son who worked there and was trying to bribe him to stay quiet."

The novice looked up from his spot, frowning in confusion. "Magister Firehand? I thought he headed the council on controlling those types of crime?"

The two older elves stared at him for several seconds before breaking into derisive laughter. "You actually believe the news that the nobles send out?" Thal turned to his friend, "How the fel has he survived to be this age?"

Ash shrugged. "I think his family had some connections. He'd be long dead otherwise."

The novice, who had returned to a sullen silence as the two others laughed at him, spoke up. "Hey, there seems to be some old footprints near the body. Was someone else here?"

Ash nodded, but directed his explanation to Thal instead. "The other guards already found her. Seems she was the Magister's mistress for the past few years. The guard found a half-empty bag of coins hidden in her housing – She probably took it from this guy's body. Seemed to have spent half of it to buy herself the house."

Thal nodded. "What'd the guards do with the money?"

Ash shrugged, grinning cruelly. "The usual. They split the money among themselves, burned the lady's house down, and took her for their own use. I'm sure she'll appreciate the attention in time."

Thal grinned uncertainly at his friend. "Not to be naïve, but when did that become traditional?"

Ash shook his head. "Didn't you hear? Last month a guard got killed in that district. Nobody volunteered the murderer's name, so we're showing them what it costs them to mess with us."

Thal eyed his friend uneasily, then turned to examine the body again. "We'd better get this out of here." He waved a hand at the body, encasing it in a sheet of ice. The two guards picked up the slab, and the group walked out of the alleyway, headed towards their base in the Walk of Elders.

The body was dropped off without much fuss, other than a clerk complaining about coagulated blood getting on the carpet. Afterwards, Thal, as the head of their small investigation, went to report to his direct superior, accompanied by his two witnesses, Ash and the novice. The aforementioned superior was already waiting for them when they filed into his office.

"Spare me the details of your report; I've heard it all already. I'm reassigning you." He looked down at a sheaf of notes in his hand. "All the victims from the past few weeks seem to be nobles or magistrates from a certain district north of Sunfury Spire." He set down the notes, and pointed at the novice Knight. "You. Denadrin Flameblade, you have an uncle who lives in the district. Go talk to him, threaten him, blackmail him, whatever. Just get him to let you and these two stay there for the next few weeks. The killer has to be someone with access to the neighborhood, and I want you three to scout around. For the purposes of this mission, Denadrin, you are promoted."

Denadrin froze. Thal slapped him on the shoulder as congratulation. Ash looked stunned, and then glared at his former trainee and new commander.

"Athallan Brightflame, Ashelan Dawnrunner, you are both assigned as his bodyguards. Since you're going to the neighborhood anyways, you may as well return the body to his family. Dismissed, all of you."

The three walked out of the office. Ash spent a good ten minutes arguing with the clerk before they could regain possession of the corpse, and another fifteen minutes passed waiting for a carriage to arrive to transport the body. Maneuvering a frozen corpse for all to see was fine in Murder Row, in fact, it was expected. But having an uncovered corpse travel through the Court of the Sun, where nobles and Horde ambassadors stayed, would be tantamount to political suicide.

The carriage was fairly plain. However, blood elves have an entirely different dictionary when it comes to aesthetics: The carriage had a golden frame which tapered into curlicues at the rear and an elaborate hitching apparatus containing a resplendent black hawkstrider in the front, with brightly dyed crimson silk bearing the emblem of Silvermoon stretched over the frame. Thal pulled the entrance's curtain aside while the hastily constructed coffin containing the dead magister was put aboard. Denadrin, Ash, and Thal then climbed in and sat at the bench in the front of the carriage, having to sit cross-legged since the coffin took up all the legroom. As soon as they got in, the driver flicked his hand, and an ethereal whip cracked over the hawkstrider's head, and the vehicle started its journey towards the deceased's house.

The Court of the Sun: Dominated by a magnificent fountain whose pristine glittering waters create an aura of surrealism, the outdoor square is the main area for Silvermoon's nobles to spend their day. In recent years, it has also become the perfect place to entertain the new Horde ambassadors: It is clean, it is near the orb of translocation, it boasts a population of polite professionals, and it has virtually no crime or evidence of unhappiness. It keeps up the image of Silvermoon as a utopic city of brilliant wonders and magical prowess.

Lady Ciandra Goldenlight, Lady Faelyn Sunsworn, and Lady Selania Firehand were finishing a lengthy discussion when a crimson carriage rolled past.

"I've said it before…" Faelyn shook her head. "The new proposition for tax cuts on low-income workers will never get through. It's simply too unpopular."

Selania frowned and lowered her voice. "This city may look fine on the outside, but there are people starving in the back streets. There are people murdering each other just to get a single fel crystal. Face it; we lost most of our wealth when Arthas destroyed this city. We can't just pick up our old extravagant lifestyle and act like nothing's changed!"

Faelyn narrowed her eyes. "We rebuilt this city and much of Eversong Woods. If the rabble could not-" She paused, and quickly adopted a slightly strained smile. Ciandra and Selania turned their heads slightly and spotted an orcish ambassador walking down the path nearby. They smiled quickly and engaged in small talk until the orc walked out of hearing range.

Faelyn frowned again. "As I said: We rebuilt our society. If the rabble could not resume their old jobs, it's their own fault."

Ciandra shook her head. "Half of the city still lies in ruins. Those ruins are now swarming with Wretched. The same fate has befallen Sunsail anchorage. The East Sanctum was destroyed. The Ghostlands is entirely dead, and half our food was grown there. We have lost most of our workable land and most of those skilled enough to work it. Our rebuilt city is almost entirely run by magic; there simply aren't any jobs that these people can do!"

Faelyn sighed in exasperation. "There's plenty of work for them to do. If you want to try to get the proposition through, try bringing up the subject at the ball tomorrow. You won't get much luck, though. It's a very unpopular bill."

The three nodded to each other, stood up, and left. While Faelyn was picked up by her carriage, Ciandra and Selania headed over to the valet who was holding the reins of their hawkstriders. Selania handed a few silver coins to the valet, and the two mounted and started walking back to their neighborhood.

Ciandra brushed a black strand of hair out of her face and turned to Selania. "I don't believe I've seen you around the city for at least a month. Is there anything wrong at home?"

Selania shook her head. "Nothing wrong, but my husband seems to think that to 'keep up the family's good image', I shouldn't walk around talking about politics. He more or less forbade me from walking around the city."

"How come you're here, then?"

"Lathis hasn't been home since yesterday afternoon. I took the chance to spend time around the Court." She lowered her voice. "He's probably been out drinking with his friends. He can't fault me for talking to mine."

Ciandra nodded. "So, are you going to the Sunsworns' ball tomorrow? We should try to push the issue of the tax break and try to win some people over to our side."

Selania smiled. "I'll be there. I have a lot to prepare for it, though – I should get going." She nodded a farewell and spurred her hawkstrider into a run.

Ash grumbled again as the carriage hit another rut in the road. Denadrin cursed as his helmet clanged against the wall. "How much longer will this accursed ride take?"

Thal shrugged. "It's a pretty heavy carriage pulled by a single hawkstrider uphill. It's not going to go very fast."

The other two groaned. They were tossed around inside the carriage again as it swerved to the side of the road to clear the way for a noble riding behind them. Ash peeked out the side of the carriage and watched the noble pass on her red hawkstrider. "If we keep swerving like this I'm going to be sick…" He groaned.

After several minutes which felt like several hours, the carriage pulled up in front of the Firehand estate. Ash, Thal, and Denadrin gratefully clambered out and tugged the magister's coffin out with them. Ash and Denadrin each carried one end of the coffin as Thal walked up and knocked on the door.

Instead of hearing a response from inside the mansion, a voice from the stables called. "Just a minute!" A bit more than a minute later, the same noble that had passed them on the road walked up, smiling slightly. Her smile melted as she spotted the coffin. "What happened?"

Thal bowed. "Milady Firehand?" he began, and after her affirmative nod, continued, "I must convey the news that your husband, the esteemed Magister Firehand, was murdered yesterday afternoon."

The lady turned white. Elves in general are pale to start out with, and so this coloration was only slightly different from her normal appearance, but it was noticeable all the same. "What? How?"

Thal shrugged. "It is still being investigated."

The lady took a deep breath, and seemed to become a bit more composed. "Here, bring that inside." She cast a glance at the coffin, then turned and walked towards the front door, which she opened with a wave of her hand.

Thal followed, staying a few steps behind the noble. "If I may ask, did your husband have any enemies?"

The lady watched as the coffin pass through the doorway. "Uh…" She closed the door behind it, and turned to Thal, scowling. "We're nobles. We're surrounded by enemies everywhere we look. Maybe he supported the wrong bill. Maybe he mistreated one too many of the servants." She seemed to have regained most of her former self.

Denadrin spoke up. "If I may be allowed to comment, Lady Firehand, you seem to have recovered well from the news of your husband's death."

The lady shook her head. "He wasn't a very good husband. Where was he killed?"

Ash replied with a grin. "Murder Row, in a back alley." He watched gleefully to see her reaction.

She sighed and closed her eyes for a few moments. "I fear I do not have to ask you what he was doing there?"

Thal shook his head. The lady pursed her lips slightly. "Thank you for bringing this here." She gestured to the coffin, and then turned away, making it obvious that they were dismissed. Thal and Denadrin stood to walk out. Ash opened his mouth to respond angrily, but was silenced as Thal grabbed his arm and tugged him out the door.

"Not much love was lost between those two." Denadrin commented darkly as they walked back to the carriage.

Ash nodded. "And she made it pretty clear that just about anyone on this block would and could kill him. Did you notice many servants in their house?"

Thal shook his head. "With this rebuilt city, many of these houses are run just by magic. Most have less than ten servants and groundskeepers."

The three climbed back in the carriage, happy with the new legroom. The driver flicked the ethereal whip once more, and the carriage started down the road towards Denadrin's uncle's estate. Luckily, that trip only took around five minutes, as the carriage was lighter and they were no longer going uphill. The estate in question was one of the smaller mansions, which was huge nonetheless. An adolescent blood elf was trimming the bushes surrounding the house as Denadrin walked up to the door. The younger elf peered at them for a few seconds before recognizing Denadrin and hastily bowing.

"The master is inside in his study." The gardener mumbled, gesturing towards the front door. He scurried off as soon as Denadrin nodded and turned away.

Denadrin walked up to the front door and knocked. The large gilded door swung open seemingly by its own accord and Denadrin walked into the antechamber of the house, followed by Ash and Thal. They waited in silence for a few minutes until a silver-haired elf entered the room.

Denadrin bowed to the new figure, and Ash and Thal followed suit. The figure glanced over Ash and Thal and focused on Denadrin. "To what do I owe this disturbance?"

Denadrin smiled thinly and removed his helmet. "We are here working an investigation for the Guard."

The older elf, who was presumed to be Denadrin's uncle, nodded. "Ah, it's you. And what makes you think I'll help you in this?" He scowled at Denadrin, completely ignoring the other two in the room.

Denadrin smiled slightly. "I can always ask my mother to let slip a few of your secrets to some guards… I'm sure they'd appreciate a chance to take down someone as disliked as you."

His uncle frowned, opened his mouth to respond, looked at Ash and Thal, and closed it again. "Very well. I'm sure there are some empty rooms in the servant's quarters which you can use." He turned to walk away, then paused and turned back. "There is a ball tomorrow, at the Lord and Lady Sunsworn's. I'll expect you to be ready to go by tomorrow, as I do not trust you to be alone in the house."

Denadrin nodded, and he, Ash, and Thal walked down an elaborately decorated hallway to a plain wooden door. Behind the door was a plainly constructed hallway with several adjacent empty rooms. Denadrin gestured toward the rooms. "I can remember when this whole wing was full. Most of these servants were killed during the destruction of the city and the rest have been laid off." He paused for a second. "Well, pick a room and get it set up. Most of our best suspects will be at the ball tomorrow, and we'd better be prepared to confront them."