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Scene Of The Crime

eleia fixed her hair in the elaborately carved, gold-framed mirror before her. She had picked up on the custom of a particular hair style a year before, preceeding some of her work tracking down unruly nobles. The black dye had been a good idea, she decided. The way her hair now contrasted with her skin, causing her to look exotic rather than plain as her grey had previously... It was a good decision. She applied more of the product to her bangs. Enough weight, enough support in them, and they would swing down over her eyes as intended when needed. After all, it was customary for a lady of the night to avert her eyes when anyone other than her customer appeared in the room. This night, though, she hoped would be without incident, without intrusion. Alas, business in the keep usually ended up that way, someone would barge in with "urgent business," ruining what act she was in the midst of performing. She smirked to herself in the mirror, checking the light eyeshadow on her eyes. To think she had been a nobody so long ago, scrounging for pay in Booty Bay, and now found herself in Stormwind Keep... Well...
    She knew the old saying. Even if you win the rat race, you're still a rat. The same went for her. Even if you're the best whore, you're still a whore. She puckered her lips, smacking them lightly, testing the sound of them. They produced a satisfying tone, not drawn out, no squeezing involved, no squeaks. A subtle "smooch" sound. She grinned. Yes, she was still a whore. But she was a whore in Stormwind keep, dressed in fine silks, fixing her hair in a golden mirror. A whore? Yes. Still being chased out of respectable inns? No inn could compare to the room she prepared herself in. Rich, gold-leaf decorated wallpaper covered the smooth walls, proving the level of craftsmanship with its sleek, smooth surface. A picture rail near the ceiling carved of ivory, spotless, glistening in the low lamplight. Tele knew her business. She never prepared herself in a room lit any differently than wherever she would be performing.
    The lamplight flickered only once in a while, emanating from a fine oil lamp protected by a tall hurricane shade. The dresser on which her beauty supplies lay was tiger maple, a very rare wood found in Redridge Mountains. It glowed with the lamplight, facets of the wood glistening a bright amber while other facets remained a deep brown. The surface of the dresser was fine marble, a grain so tiny it appeared to be covered in powdered sugar, glittering ever so slightly. Tele picked up the ivory comb, running it once more through a strand of her hair, fixing the product onto it, giving it a stable wave. She applied one last layer of glaze to her lips, giving them a bright sheen, causing them to look wet with anticipation. She checked her eyes once more. Shaded above, shadowing her eyes with mystery. Tele grinned. Those cheap skanks in the port towns usually applied far too much above their eyes, causing them to look even more inexperienced than they undoubtedly were. Yes, her experience... It was nice to be able to enjoy the night with a fine gentleman for a change, rather than be relegated to shoving a knife into him at the first opportunity. Now, she could drink the wine, eat the tiny candies, and most of all, get her own satisfaction.
    Of course, she still had to be careful. She still trained, still kept her own strength up. Some of these nobles had shown terribly violent streaks in their lovemaking, rousing her from her usual level of comfort to fearing for herself. Quick thinking and even quicker action was required to keep oneself alive during such an exchange. She still couldn't understand why they would want to hurt her, but then again, they were nobles.
    Everything looked ready now. Tele gave the mirror a kiss, directing the air between her lips and the mirror to carry it over with a wave of her hand, then strode to the curtain that separated her from the room beyond. Tele took hold of the two curtain edges, smiled to set her eyes in a pleased expression, then quickly changed her smile to a pout, leaving her eyes in the joyful tone. Her performances were a serious matter (expensive, too), and she would not be seen giggling as a schoolgirl for such an occasion. She thrust the curtains aside, eyes set on the bed in the room before her. The nobleman was already in the bed, waiting to--
    Dead. His throat had been slit open, and roughly at that. She thought for a moment. His name, what had his name been... Ferrin, perhaps? It sounded right. Well, the good noble Ferrin would not receive a show tonight, for sure. Her eyes darted around the room. Who, then, would? But wait, she thought. Ferrin. I remember that from... Who do I remember saying that name? It was a long time ago, wasn't it?
    Padded feet gently crossed the floor behind her, cold steel pressing to her neck as an arm wrapped around her waist. A masked face pressed its side against hers, a muffled nose inhaling deeply. Tele held still, quite relaxed, as she had been in this position before. But still, nonetheless. Any action could show aggression. A wondering rogue was an uncertain rogue. Uncertain rogues tended to act without much reason.
    The chest pressed to her back was sculpted, stiff, covered in leather if its friction against her silk was any indication. A man, obviously. He stood two inches taller than Tele, the thumb of his hand on her waist inching up to nudge one of her breasts. Finally, he spoke. A rough, weathered voice, still somewhat young. "You saw nothing here. You're the one who did this." In his thirties, perhaps. His jaw changed position, hinting at his grin pressed against her head. "But first--"
    "Eddie, yer messin' with the wrong dame." Tele brought her heel up sharply into the man's groin, behind any protective armor he may have had against frontal assault. He dropped his dagger, staggering back a step. Tel grabbed the dagger out of the air, whipping around.
    The rogue wore a blood red mask, contrasting sharply with his dull gold and dark blue armor. Expensive, worth a good amount of gold at one time, but now rather beaten and dusty. His black hair hung over his eyes, reaching in length about to his chin, flicked out of the way by his hand. Yes, Tele recognized those eyes. Filled with excitement at one time. Betrayal at another time. Rage, soon after. And now... She smirked. Irritation filled those familiar eyes now. "What's the matter? Don' like gettin' beat by a girl?"
    The rogue yanked his mask down, stepping up to Tele again, stubble carpeting his chin. He scratched at it, the forming beard perhaps the source of his irritation. "Alright, spit it out. What're you doing here of all places?" He narrowed his eyes, his lip setting stiffer. "I hoped I was done with you the day you left."
    Tele shook her head. "Coul' say the same about you, though. Y'never impressed me much, Eddie, even with yer gold mine an' crowd of thugs followin' ya." She tossed her hair back from her eyes. "So what's it to ya? Comin' in ta ruin my performance?"
    He grinned. "That's what you call it these days, eh? Performances?" He spat to the floor. "Nothin' but gettin' a guy off for money. That's all it ever was, that's all it ever will be."
    "Keep tellin' yerself that. Admit it, y'were smitten." Tel grinned. "Bu' now that I gotcha here, lemme ask ya somethin'... Where's m' necklace?"
    The rogue shook his head, sparing himself no betraying glances to her curves, to her slipping neckline. "The one you wore that night? Don't know what you mean."
    Tel narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, y'disappear into th' night all ya want, I'll get it back one o' these days."
    Edwin grinned. Just as he remembered her. Sure, it had been only two nights out of his life, but they had been satisfying nights.
    Tel rolled her eyes. Just as she remembered him. Two nights of disappointment, low pay, and to top it off, a stolen gold necklace.
    Edwin shrugged. "Well. I came to get what I wanted," he said in a breathy tone. "Blood on my blade, a name crossed off." He allowed his eyes to travel along her curves, peer at the thin slip she wore. The silk was thin, allowing him a few fine details. "I know how it works here. I've had girls on the inside here. No guards patrol these halls during your so-called 'performances'..." He smirked. "Wouldn't take much effort to shove the dead bloke off the bed."
    Tel bit her lip, hesitant to consider at first, but now having second thoughts. It had been a while... Perhaps he was better now. And true, guards did not come by during these sessions. They were scheduled, of course. And she hadn't yet gotten her satisfaction this night. She resisted a grin tugging at her face. Plus, she could rob him blind in the process. But if he carried money with him, he was a fool. She could find out, though...
    Tel allowed her weight to shift to one leg in consideration. She tilted her head, looking up at him. "Y'know, these nobles don' pay up front. I always gotta wait f'r my pay... Y'wanna remedy that a bit, Ed?" She smiled teasingly.
    Edwin's hand instinctively began reaching to his belt, but he instead directed it to rest on his hip. Yeah, you're real smart, aren't you. "What kind of fool d'you think I am, bringing boatloads of cash into the keep?"
    Tel twirled around, folding her arms. "No deal, then, I guess."
    The rogue lowered his brow. The middle of the night, getting one step closer to fulfilled revenge, he hoped he would run into some easy girl he could bed and leave with the dagger to pass the blame. Not this sly fox. He was neither in the mood for her games nor did he have time for them. He yanked his bandanna off over his head, untied it quickly, then spun it around, forming a gag. The rolled bandanna quickly found its way wedged into Tel's mouth, his hand yanking her head back to throw off her balance. Tele attempted to throw another kick to his groin, but the action of him yanking her back placed her feet too far. If she attempted to kick, she would fall for sure. A punch behind her would give her a bit of leeway, though. Her right hand held the dagger still. A smack from the hilt, it would work perfectly. She quickly drew her hand up--Only to be caught by the wrist in his free hand. Tel's adrenaline began to flow. Edwin had been disappointing, sure, but that spoke nothing of his skill in combat. If he had the upper hand, she would be handed an embarrassing loss. Add to that the fact that he was not the most patient of people, and it was a quick path to a black eye and a sore behind.
    Tele held still yet again. Her heart raced faster. Options... Options... What were her options? Her left hand was free. Typical, her weaker arm. But she was still off balance. Her center of gravity lay on Edwin, not her. Mobility on her own would be difficult of she were to try striking first. Of course, she could tell Edwin knew this. He made no moves to ease her back to standing straight, no attempt to try relishing his imminent victory too soon. He knew just how to hold someone, just how to make them helpless, just how to pin them right where he wanted them. Irritation crossed Tel's mind. Of all the people to work for in the past, she had to spend two nights with this madman... Two unsatisfying nights for far too little pay and a stolen necklace. And after she had spent so much time on her hair...
    Then it clicked. So much product had been used in her hair... Products that gave off fumes Edwin probably had little experience with, what with busying himself with bandit deals and cheaper, less taken care of women. Tel turned her head slowly, her eyes gazing up at Edwin fearfully. He looked down at her triumphantly.
    Wipe that smirk off your face, glory boy.
    She now had the angle she needed. She quickly whipped her head around to face the opposite direction, smacking Edwin full on with locks of hair full of chemicals. She felt a rush of confidence. She was a damned good whore. Tricks were learned... Such as using herbs in hair products to trigger relaxation in her customers. The jobs went easier, they fell asleep sooner afterwards, less work for more money, the good business solution. And now, the yet undried chemicals released into the air against Edwin, the fool who had taken his mask off in the first place. His grip on the gag loosened just enough to allow Tele to pivot around, her wrist still held tightly in his right hand. She kicked sharply to his side, loosing her wrist from his grip. "Wrong dame, Eddie!" She looked back to the noble's room, hoping for some sort of decoration... Damnit! The one room in Stormwind Keep that didn't have some flaunty coat of arms with swords rested behind it! Just her luck... She turned back to Edwin, shaking his head to clear the chemicals.
    Edwin grinned. Girls were great fun, oh, always great fun. But they never put up a fight. He felt no dismay to being caught by surprise... Only a rush of adrenaline, drawing his hooked cutlass from his belt. "Y'wanna play that game, Tel? Huh?" He strode towards her, his grin growing as she backed away from him. "I'll play that'n with ya..." His eyes took in her shape, his throat holding back a laugh at her stiff, tensed nipples. "I'll play, alrigh'!" He lunged forward, throwing a horizontal slash to her. He knew she would dodge. And dodge she did, hopping back a foot. Sweat began to bead on her forehead. Her eyes began to grow fearful. Delicious fear... "What's the matter, Tel!" he taunted, stopping his approach short. "You seem t'have lost some confidence there!" His hand shot forward, grabbing her by her carefully affixed hair, ruining its shape, pulling her to him. "Always makes ya nervous, meeting up with old friends, eh?" He grabbed her chin between his thumb and index finger, the barbed cutlass held in his other three fingers, pointed out from, but still uncomfortably close to, her neck.
    Tel kept her eyes aimed to the side, unwilling to let him gaze into any beautiful, golden depths of her soul when they were full of anxiety, full of fear. She was unarmed. She was facing him head-on. She knew any self-respecting rogue would be armored most from that angle, protecting vitals where it counted. She tried to think. What could she do? Her thoughts were stalled as Edwin forced a kiss firmly to her lips, triggering her instinctive self defense. Her fists flung forward, smacking his chest with little effect. He was too strong for her... Her heart sank. Edwin grabbed hold of her neck, pulling her along with him to the bed, throwing her mercilessly down onto the sheets, drenched in the nobleman's blood. Edwin stepped onto the bed, kicking the corpse aside to the floor, a muted "thump" the only sign that it had landed. Tel reached a hand up to rub her neck, a painful bruise forming already.
    Edwin stood over her, gazing down at the woman he had thrust onto the bed. She had landed face down, her black locks strewn over her face. He smirked. Even now, she tried to push herself off the bed. He clenched his hand into a fist, throwing it down to the middle of her back, relishing the yelp of pain from her. She would soon regret those smart-ass remarks... Unimpressive? She would learn just how impressive he really was. After all, though she claimed to be skilled, she was the one laying helpless before him. He set his knee on the bed, lowering his other foot to the floor between the girl's, her own hanging off the edge of the bed, limp from their tussle. Edwin eyed her more, sliding a hand up her thigh under her dress, feeling the curve of her behind, his thumb slipping between her legs. He grinned. Even as scared as he knew she was, she was still wet. You'll never admit it, but it's true; Yer a whore through and through. Y'love every minute of it.
    His touch, of course, garnered a negative reaction out of Tele. She pushed herself from her chest to throw a backhanded slap to his face, connecting with a loud snap. He growled, grabbing his dagger from his belt to rip through her thin slip, the hilt itself sharp enough to perform the action. Tele yelped in pain, her breast nicked by the sharp hilt. Edwin grinned, his favorite combination laying before him; A good looking woman and blood. "Whatcha got to say now, eh, Tel?" He wiped two fingers against the bleeding wound, cleaning them with a swipe against his tongue. Tele glared up at him, her painted lips curled back in a snarl. Edwin smirked. "Yer amusing. Endlessly amusing." Oh, he was going to enjoy this... It had been a while since he had had so much fun. Should he finish quickly? Take as long as he could until the guards made their rounds? Maybe even take her with him? Surely he could bind her up--
    Tele's eyes flashed dangerously, their golden irises flickering in rage.
    Edwin glared. "Don' gimme that look, sweetheart." He threw a punch to her face. That would teach her some manners.
    Tel bit down on his hand. Even more, fangs sank through the leather of his glove. He yelled in surprise, throwing his other fist at her forehead. Tel let out a yip, letting go of his fist. He checked his hand, bewildered. Sure enough, blood oozed from the pierced holes in his glove. She had torn through two ligaments in the back of his hand, narrowly missing doing the same to his fingers. He stopped. His eyes widened, looking down at her again.
    No longer was there a beautiful, terrified woman at his mercy on the bed before him. No longer did he see the flawless, softened curves of her body, her nipples no longer laughably visible in tension. Her pale skin... Her slender fingers... Fur. Grey fur covered her. Coarse, short, her head of hair matting down into a black mane. And her face! The gentle curve of her nose, the full, painted lips... They had enlongated into a canine snout. Stiff, sparse whiskers had grown from the edge of her upper jaw. And the lip of that upper jaw was pulled back, baring two inch fangs, trembling with the enraged vibrations of the growl that rose dangerously from her throat.
    Edwin took the only sensible action he could at that point. He stepped back. Tele rose from the bed quickly, standing six inches over him, even in her slumped, monster-like posture.
    "You..." she rumbled. "You hurt me..." Edwin stepped back further, cowering before the beast bearing down on him. He shook his head quickly. "N-no... T-Tele, I--" The worgen swiped her clawed hand horizontally at him, slashing through his chest armor. Edwin spared no glance to his armor. He looked to his left. The window he had come in through was still there, still cracked open. He had prepared for some sort of emergency getaway. His chestpiece was heavier than usual due to such precautions. He could do this... He looked back to the worgen. She lunged forward, snapping her jaws at him. He let out a yell, narrowly jumping out of the way. His back was now against the window.
    Tele roared, slashing her claws forward again, aiming for his face. Four long, deep marks dug into his face, the force of her strike pushing him back into the pane of glass. Edwin held himself there a split second, still in disbelief. This certainly explained the grey hair she had had those two nights. Her golden eyes, even more. He slammed his elbow into the window, shattering the glass and throwing himself back through it, slicing his neck on the way. He turned in the air as he fell, taking hold of a strap on his chestpiece's shoulder, yanking it as he kicked against the wall flying by behind him. A parachute launched from his back, carrying him like a dandelion seed on some peaceful afternoon over the sleeping city of Stormwind, the wind carrying him to the southwest.
    Tele watched from the window, the monstrous form giving way once more to her beautiful, pristine, naked human self. She looked down to the scratch on her breast, spreading the blood a bit with her fingertip, smearing it against her skin. Her ears tensed. A metallic clatter sounded from the hallway floor beyond the door.

    The four guards arrived swiftly at the heavy oak doors, two of them charging to break the lock and force them open. The guards looked in, rifles aimed and shields raised...
    The bed, sheets, and mattress drenched in blood. A corpse laying on the floor beside the bed, its throat opened by a hateful blade. Glass in the window broken, blood dripping from the jagged edges. The curtains drifted lazily from the night wind, clinging to the remaining panes of glass as the wind drew them out.
    An expensive whore, splayed on the blood-soaked bed, blood clinging to her skin in patches. Her gentle curls of jet black hair strewn about, a strand sticking to her sweat soaked forehead. Her lips pulled back, jaw set in pain. Her eyes adorned with fine eyeshadow, closed from their view, their inner glow finally settling into the golden hazel they usually appeared as. Her chest took in pained breaths, blood trickling down her breast to her side, adding her own life fluid to that of her dead customer.
    The guards looked to each other, nodding. One removed his draped, royal blue cloak, stepping to the bed to offer it to the girl. "Here, now, it's alright..." The girl looked up to him, catching his eyes through his visor. Tears streamed down the sides of her face, her lips pressing together as she nodded, accepting his cloak. The guard eased her to sit up, helping her wrap the cloak about herself as the other three inspected the noble's corpse. The room remained silent as the distraught girl was led out.


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Jane Leonard,
Feb 14, 2010, 12:27 AM
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Jane Leonard,
Feb 15, 2010, 9:35 PM
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