The Romancer Opalbane

Episode Five: Feral druids have more stamina

Alessandre followed the supposed High Elf Priest Faltheriel to Old Town. Stormwind is a winding convolusion of multiple districts, but Old Town is by far the one with the most history. It was all that was left of the city when the orcs came through the Dark Portal and attacked. But, renewed construction efforts have salvaged that part of the city and others. Today, Stormwind is an impressive example of military architecture. The beautiful city can become a living trap to an enemy. He will quickly find that his movements through the city are expertly controlled by the winding avenues and gaping chasms of the both beautiful and functional canals.

Alessandre had heard whispers that Silvermoon City, the home of the Blood Elves, had undergone a similar reconstruction. It disturbed him a great deal to stalk so close behind a man that he was so repulsed by. And it was even more upsetting to Alessandre that the young Blood Elf had inadvertently revealed some kind of twisted sexual attraction to him earlier. Alessandre knew all about the Sin'dorei addiction to magic, and that addictions can make a person do strange things… he kept telling himself over and over that was all it was, and that Priest Faltheriel had not, in fact, wanted to touch Priest Benactus' hand to 'feel up' his mana.

Faltheriel's human height was enough to throw off most people, but his slender build and his cloth hood that scarcely hid the shape of his long ears began to draw attention as the Blood Elf in disguise traversed deeper into the alleyways of Old Town. Finally, when Faltheriel entered a tavern, an old soldier, perhaps a veteran of the old wars when Human men and Highborne worked together, came and challenged him.

Now that it was clear Faltheriel meant to stay in the tavern for a bit, Alessandre walked back outside, decloaked, and entered again. He took a seat at a table in the corner to watch how all this would play out.

"Hey! Just what do you think you're doing here?" The scruffy old man had certainly seen better times. He had the look and swagger of a constant drunk.

"Do not touch me, Human. I am here on business, like many other people here."

"How come your eyes ain't green? You're one of them Blood Elves, aint ye?"

Alessandre fished his pipe out of his pocket, stuffed it, and began to smoke. He was eager to see how Faltheriel was managing the parlor trick with his eyes as well. Recent reports from spies on the cutting edge of reconnaissance in Eversong Woods and agents in the frontiers of Outland all reported that Blood Elves had green eyes, unlike their Highborne counterparts. It had something to do with the way they fed their magical addiction.

"I certainly am not! That is disgusting! I am offended, sir. Were my people not once welcome in Stormwind? Regardless of what my people or Prince Sunstrider has done, I wish to continue to serve." Faltheriel defended himself.

"All of you were condemned to death during the war against the Scourge. You allied yourselves with those hateful Naga, and disobeyed a direct order!" a third patron called over his shoulder to them.

Everyone in the tavern was agitated now, and people all around were getting to their feet, and clenching fists. Alessandre idly wondered if he should let the man get a beating or keep his only connection to Opalbane's would be kidnappers alive for a few more days.

Sighing heavily, Alessandre made a signal to the bartender and ordered a drink. "No, I think I'll just enjoy this." He smiled to himself.

"My fate is for the King of Stormwind to decide! If any of you have a problem with my presence here, then I suggest you find him."

"You disrespectful… everyone knows that the King' ain't been seen for years." The original drunk veteran began to close in on tiny Faltheriel.

"I'm glad you got my joke then." Faltheriel ignored the man and settled down into his seat at an empty table in the back. Then, he raised his hand, it had a gold piece lodged between the fingers, and ordered his own drink. "A notable priest of the Light, Father Benactus, recruited me. I'm sure he's taken many confessions in this room… shall I go and inform him that his own companion is being treated so poorly?"

Alessandre took a sip of his wine. He didn't drink mead, not even in places like this. "I'm impressed, Blood Elf." He muttered under his breath.

It seemed that Priest Faltheriel's threat hit home with many in the tavern. Some people nearby him picked up their drinks and moved. Everyone knows that capable priests can use a Mind Vision to pick the brains of others. Faltheriel had done so quickly enough and to so many people around him that he was sufficiently intimidating.

When Faltheriel's drink came to his table, he offered it to the bitter veteran, who gladly snatched it away and returned to the bar.

"Why hello there, stranger."

Alessandre nearly choked on his wine. It was Myrielle Fadeleaf, Master Rogue Shadowstep's right hand woman.

"What is the lovely second in command to the Master Rogue doing in Stormwind… in my bar, while I'm working?"

Myrielle was gorgeous. She had purple skin and dark blue hair that she wore short. It was clipped smartly just along her jaw. Satiny, red leaf-shaped markings absorbed the majority of her face. Look at her head on, and her lips begged to be kissed. But, if she turned just the right way in the shadow, one might think she was going to bite you.

"You're already answered your own question rogue. I'm watching you of course. You haven't been making it easy on me though. How is it possible for a person to live entirely in stealth?"

Alessandre poured a cup of wine for Myrielle and then took another sip himself. "Dear, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."

Myrielle leaned in close to Alessandre and kissed him on the cheek. "Oh, I know you very well," she whispered to him sweetly, but in a flash her tone turned savage and dangerous, "You are gunning for my job, you prick. And I've not forgotten how you nearly ruined things for me last time."

Myrielle leaned back in her chair and fluttered her long blue eyelashes at Alessandre. Alessandre toasted Myrielle and took a long drink.

"What? No apology for breaking my heart? No offer to make it up to me? I'm crushed." Myrielle started sweetly but then her tone turned ugly at the end.

"I'm on assignment. I can't do that while I'm working." Alessandre shrugged.

"You arrogant bastard, I'm not here to ask you to my bed!" she flared and slammed her cup down. "I am here to make sure that you don't do anything stupid. Master Rogue Shadowstep has suffered more than enough disappointments this year, and he doesn't trust you. You do remember your contract right? All the Twilight Cultists in Stormwind must be dead by month's end. Priestess Feathershine might have made you feel that you are on some kind of mission of mercy, to protect her foster daughter, but that is not who you're working for."

"I am working for them both, Myrielle." Alessandre frowned. "This wine is not so good."

"Pay attention to me! Are you even listening? Shadowstep wants you to do whatever it takes… even if you have to seduce her…just draw them out and be done with it."

"Are you truly telling me how to do my job, Myrielle? Or, are you just terrified because you know that every moment you spend away from Darnassus, some young rogue is ruthlessly fighting to fill your spot."

Myrielle smiled grimly. Her luscious red lips looked a bit lonely to Alessandre, but he realized it was probably just the wine. "I know that the greatest threat to my career is sitting inches in front of me. Years ago, I thought it was just some kind of tease that you wanted, and you almost convinced me to abandon my place beside Shadowstep for you. I can't believe I nearly fell for that."

"You could fall for it again, you know." Alessandre rested his chin on his palm and leaned clear across the table.

Myrielle recoiled in disgust. "What happened to, 'I'm on assignment'? Now you're seducing me?"

Alessandre exhaled, frustrated. "No. At least I hope not. I didn't mean to."

Myrielle was Shadowstep's right hand for a very good reason. She thought quickly about everything she knew of Alessandre and read him in a flash.

"You like her. Priestess Feathershine's daughter, that creepy Opalbane… you like her but you can't have her, is that it? And you're coming on to me now because you've been holding out. You're sick, you know that? You've been a womanizer for years and years, not one woman has ever eluded your advances—"

"Except for Wisthera."

"Ah, yes, except for her. I have to admit, you dodged a bullet there."

"My thoughts exactly." Alessandre frowned at the memory. Eversince she ruined his assignment for King Magni Bronzebeard, Wisthera continued to be a thorn in Alessandre's side.

"Anyways, as I was saying, no woman has ever gotten away from you when you wanted something, but this time, it's really going to happen isn't it? Shadowstep wants you to use your 'special skills' on Opalbane so that you can get her do whatever is needed to draw these cultists out. But you don't want to sleep with her because you know that you'll lose control of everything… just like all those other times."

"I'll have you know that I am an excellent lover. My reputation precedes me."

"Because you mate like a lion. It's like you're part nightsaber, Alessandre. It's strange that you have that kind of endurance, and it's a bit freaky, but it works for a lot of us women. That's why you're letting me sit here right now, when you're supposed to be working."

Alessandre left off staring at Myrielle's mouth and took another drink of wine. He eyed Priest Faltheriel. The supposed High Elf was staring at him too. Alessandre thought for a moment before reacting. No, he was staring the voluptuous Myrielle. She was blowing his cover, by drawing too much attention. Myrielle's time was up.

"You know what I think, Alessandre?" Myrielle leaned forward, and Alessandre tried not to look down her shirt. "I think Shadowstep is testing you. He knows that you have a weakness for women, and he wants to see if you can help Feathershine's daughter without harming her. It's the perfect test actually. Oh, he's so brilliant!"

"It's just a delicate situation, that's all Myrielle. You know, you're making this very hard for me. My quarry is making eyes at you, and I don't want him to remember my face."

Second Commander Myrielle smiled wickedly. "I'm watching you, Alessandre, I am. But you're right that I should go, I'll ruin everything. Who is that guy, anyways? He's kind of cute… I've never been with a Highborne."

"Don't." Alessandre warned. "He's… I wouldn't want you sleeping with a Blood Elf."

Myrielle was shocked. She leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath before downing the rest of her wine. "Were you going to tell anyone? He's a traitor right there in our midst!"

"No, Myrielle. Just let me handle this my way. He's meeting with someone, and I have to hear what he says to them. I can't do anything to anyone until I am sure of who I have to kill. That means I need to know just why I'm killing them."

Myrielle left some silver on the table for her drink, but Alessandre pushed it back into her hand. "No, I'll pay for this. You know that money's nothing to me, anyways. You promise that you're not going to go reporting things back to Shadowstep prematurely?"

"Rogue's honor." Myrielle said coyly, which of course, meant nothing at all.

"Oh, and one more thing before I go, Alessandre, and this is really serious."

Faltheriel's contacts were coming in the door. Two men, not any better than common thugs, who looked like they came expecting a meal. Those kind of desperate people made Alessandre nervous.

"Hurry it up then, Myrielle."

"There's been a spike in murders here in the city. This comes straight from SI:7. They don't know who's behind it, but people like us should especially be on the lookout."

"Why's that?" Alessandre made himself ask in a calm voice.

"They think a druid is doing it… don't laugh. Feral druids can be dangerous, and they use stealth like we do. So… you know, watch your back Alessandre."

Alessandre shrugged while Myrielle stared at him. He couldn't help the feeling that she was waiting to see his reaction.

"If that's really all, then please go."

"Yeah, yea that's all I came here to say." She said quickly, and then added as she got up, "There's talk in the Cenarion Enclave back in Darnassus that the Archdruid might recall all the druids here in Stormwind… wouldn't that be a shame? With all of them gone, they'll never find out just who's doing it."

Alessandre grunted and called for more wine. When he turned back around, Myrielle was not there, but her silver lay defiantly on the table.