Sylnarri didn't have the vaguest idea where she was or how she had ended up here. The one thing she did know, however, was that she was in bad shape – she could not feel her body. She tried to move around a bit and immediately wished she hadn't – the intensity of the resulting pain was nearly enough to make her blackout. She winced in agony and decided that it was probably best to lie still for the time being.
Sylnarri inspected her body, trying as best as she could not to move her head as she did. She could see that her right arm was in a nicely wrapped cast, so she guessed that it was broken – that would certainly explain why it was hurt so much. Straining her eyes, she could see that her leg was bandaged as well, but other than that, she seemed okay for the most part. Satisfied that nothing was life threatening, she took a look around. Using her eyes to scan the area – she did not want to risk moving her neck – Sylnarri deduced that she was in someone's bedroom.
The room was fairly standard in size and rather well furnished: there was a large, dark wood dresser in the corner, and next to that was an ornately carved desk – a depiction of mounted knights combatting strange creatures carved along the edges – with stacks of papers and a few pens on top. There was a large window to her left that was framed with red curtains; she noticed that they matched the finely stitched carpet that covered most of the floor. Overall, the room felt pretty cozy. Looking through the window, she could see a tree line not too far off, so she guessed that the house was in some sort of clearing in a forest somewhere. Judging from the length of the shadows and the intensity of the light, Sylnarri could tell that it was about mid-morning – her older sister had taught that trick.
'If only she were here now.' She thought fondly, 'She would… wait… where exactly IS here, and how the hell did I get here?!'
Sylnarri tried to remember exactly how she had gotten here, but her mind felt hazy and the pain certainly wasn't helping her concentration. The last thing she remembered was running through that endless forest – what she was doing there in the first place she couldn't remember either – being chased by…
'Damn it, how messed up was I to not be able to remember anything?!' She thought angrily as her temper started to rise. She was clenching her jaw in frustration at her apparent loss of memory when she suddenly caught the scent of cooked eggs wafting in from behind the door. She had almost forgot that she wasn't alone, and Sylnarri felt a twinge of fear at the fact that she was defenseless and at the mercy of whomever it was that brought her here. True, this person had been kind enough to look after her while she was unconscious and had cared for her injuries, but there was no telling what the motivation behind the apparent kindness was. Maybe whoever it was just wanted her to be alive and well when they killed her – it wouldn't be the first time someone had tried to take her life.
'That's it!' She thought, excited at the sudden realization, 'I was being chased by humans and they were trying to kill me!' The fog suddenly lifted from her mind and Sylnarri could clearly recall what had happened and how she had ended up here – her eyes narrowed in anger at the memory.
She was just passing through the city when she decided that she needed a break from her long day of traveling. Too tired to be picky, she stopped at the first inn she came across and went inside. Since the end of the war and the peace treaty, all of the races of Azeroth had been living together in precarious co-existence. As such, the border towns and cities were a melting pot of all the various people from both Horde and Alliance. Although the war was officially over, the hatred and racism was as strong as ever, and there was mutual segregation in many places within the cities. Not aware that she had walked into a well-known "human" inn – whose patrons were notorious elf haters – Sylnarri casually took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink. All activity stopped, and everyone stared at this blood elf that had dared to intrude on their territory. It took Sylnarri a moment to realize her huge mistake and when she did, she promptly made her way to the exit, eyes to the floor, as quickly as she could – the last thing she wanted was to start a confrontation. She had nearly reached the door when a gigantic man stepped in her way, his barrel of a chest blocking her exit. She nervously looked at him – which required her to nearly tilt her head all the way back – and saw that he was clearly drunk.
"Wher d'ya think yo're goin, lil'elf?" He slurred out stupidly – his breath was rancid, and being mixed with alcohol, made her nose wrinkle in disgust.
"I was just on my way out." Sylnarri replied pleasantly, putting as much confidence as she could muster into her words, "Now if you would kindly excuse me, I would like to leave." She started maneuvering around him to the door, but he side-stepped back into her path, making her stop once again.
"Sho let me git thiss shtraight." He spat out, spraying her with spittle in the process, "Ya think ya can jus' waltz in here...an' then walk out, jus' like that?!" He took another swig out of his pint and wiped the thick foam from his overgrown and unkempt beard, his tone now carrying a hint of malice.
Sylnarri didn't exactly know how to answer that question so she just stammered out, "Please, I… I don't want any trouble, just let me go and I'll be on my way." Fear started creeping into her voice; the situation was definitely starting to feel hostile.
The man suddenly turned violently angry and threw his mug across the room where it shattered against the wall. "Well ya got truble when ya walked in!" He rushed towards her. Sylnarri was surprised that he moved so fast; she hadn't expected that a drunken person could move that quickly without falling over and it frightened her. Nevertheless, he was still large and cumbersome, and Sylnarri was much faster than him. She nimbly dodged to the left, fear augmenting her already keen reflexes.
The man careened past her, smashing into the group of humans that had gathered behind her. Seeing that the way to the door was now open, Sylnarri sprinted as fast her legs would allow out of the inn with the angry curses and shouts of the human mob not far behind. She leaped over the flight of stone steps that led up to the inn, landing on the cobblestone street below. Without glancing back, she sprung to her feet and continued to run, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She could hear the group chasing after her. She had never been to this city before and she had no clue where she was going but she didn't care as long as it was away from those humans. She rounded a street corner and could hear the yells of the men growing fainter and fainter; soon the only sound in the night air was the pounding of her boots on the stones as she ran down the empty street. Sylnarri allowed herself a small sigh of relief – she had escaped.
She took another sharp turn around a building and suddenly found herself face-up and sprawled out on the hard street, her head spinning as she tried to figure what the hell happened. She would never get the chance. Before she could recover, strong hands grabbed her by the front her of her shirt and yanked her back to her feet. She stood there dazed, trying to refocus her vision so she could see her who her assailant was when she was hit in the face again, the force of the blow sending her reeling backwards. She landed hard on her hands and knees – Sylnarri fought desperately against the sensation of an inevitable blackout as her head and eyesight continued to spin.
Spitting out the blood that had begun collecting in her mouth, Sylnarri saw her attacker move to her right side and raise an object over his head, about to strike. Sylnarri did not have enough time to evade the blow, so she threw up her arm to protect her head as it came down on her; she felt the bone in her arm give way from the force of the impact. She cried out in agony from the incredible amount of pain, but the jolt to her nervous system also served to snap her mind back into focus. She saw that her assailant was readying for another attack, but this time she rolled out the way; the strike slammed into the stony street with a loud crack. Fighting no longer an option because of the beating she had just taken – her arm was totally useless – her only hope was to outrun her attacker. She rolled once more, dodging another attack, got to her feet, and took off at a dead sprint – the fear of death giving her speed she didn't know she had possessed.
Sylnarri risked a quick look behind her and found to her dismay that the pursuer was not far behind, maybe twenty feet at the most. She redoubled her efforts, pushing her body faster and faster, her muscles straining under the immense stress, in her attempt to escape this person who seemed intent on killing her. She glanced behind her again and saw that she was beginning to pull ahead of her pursuer. Just as she began to hope that she was going to get away, Sylnarri heard the sound of metal slicing through air, and it was coming towards her. It caught her mid stride – a knife – on her left calf. The steel cut through the muscle tissue with terrifying ease. Sylnarri screamed as she felt the blade dig into her flesh, stumbling as she landed on her injured leg.
Despite the practical destruction of her left calf, she continued to run as best as she could – to stop meant certain death. But in spite of her best efforts, her body was failing on her. As she pushed on, her left leg was refusing to obey her and she was beginning to slow down no matter how hard she fought. Looking back again, her attacker was starting to close the gap between them. Tears began to roll down her face as she realized that she wasn't going to make it, he was going to catch her and that would be the end of it – she was going to die right here on this street and her family would never know what happened to her. She would never see her sister again, or her parents, she wouldn't get the chance to say goodbye to them.
She was about to give up when she realized that she had been running for some time now and her pursuer had yet to reach her. She looked around and saw that she was in the middle of a field – she had run past the city's main gate without noticing. Sylnarri looked back towards the city and saw the man standing at the front gate, motionless, staring at her. The distance was too great for her to be able to see who it was but she didn't care; she turned back around and kept going, running farther and farther away from that damn city.
Even though she had escaped, she couldn't stop crying, she had never been so afraid for her life. Fearing that the man might change his mind and come after her, she kept on running and soon found herself lost in a forest. Soon, Sylnarri was delirious from blood loss and exhaustion, stumbling and tripping as she continued to flee from her non-existent pursuer. She wandered aimlessly through the woods for the rest of the night and well into the morning, ragged and fading fast. Eventually, she shambled into a clearing and made it a few more steps before falling down again. Sylnarri made no effort to move, she was too defeated to even attempt to get back up. She laid there, accepting her unkind fate.
'So this is how I die?' She sniffled and thought sadly, a single tear rolling down her cheek and falling to the dirt, 'Alone...in the middle of nowhere?' With that final thought, she closed her eyes and felt her consciousness fade away.
Sylnarri felt her anger flare as she lie there on the bed. She had always tried to be nice and considerate to everyone, regardless of race, and here these people had tried to kill her and nearly succeeded! Is this how being tolerant and kind paid off? She had been attacked for no other reason than being a blood elf; they had judged her based on her people's history just like everyone else. Sylnarri's temper died at that final thought and was replaced with a deep sorrow.
'Why can't people just see me for who I am? I've never hurt anyone, and yet people I'm met with violence nearly everywhere I go.' She sighed drearily.
'That's the last time I ever try to be friendly with those Alliance pigs!' She thought to herself, although she knew it was an empty statement; she was too forgiving to ever hold a grudge like that. 'And besides.' She realized sullenly, 'Doing that would only make me a hypocrite.'
Caught up in her thoughts, Sylnarri did not hear the sound of approaching footsteps just outside the door.