I held a bottle of moonshine and gazed out over the common room of the Scarlet Raven. Tired humans shuffled to and fro by the bar without so much as a glance towards the stranger sitting by their fire. I took a long drink, shifting under my cloak to stay warm. Normally I wouldn't mind spending time in a tavern, even a human one. They're fun, sometimes dangerous, and almost always full of opportunity, but not this one. Every human in this Light forsaken forest looked like they'd rather be anywhere else. And yet here they were, a bunch of stubborn fools clinging to their homes. I took another swig of the delicious moonshine that Darkshire was known for; a smooth yet powerful liquor. Letting the alcohol roll over my senses, I lay back in the wooden chair and waited. Maybe I'd need a room after all, I hadn't planned on staying long but mother was certainly taking her time getting here.

As I looked the sparse patrons over I caught the anxiety in the air, thick and musty like the cool fog that rolled in through the door. These people had more important things to worry about than an elven rogue lurking in the front of their tavern. It was nice to be able to relax in an Alliance town for once, mother had certainly chosen a discrete location. Still, I didn't understand all these games she was playing. Why couldn't I just visit her at home? As the evening turned to night and my bottle to empty, I began to suspect something was seriously wrong. Obviously nothing happened in Silvermoon or I would have heard about it. Maybe she was finally fed up with my lifestyle. I knew I wasn't her favorite and it wouldn't be her first attempt at an intervention. Heh, that was probably it. Oh well, if I have to endure another speech at least it'll be dark enough outside to slink away. I was half tempted to leave as it was. Duskwood was a terrible place to look for work and you don't want to linger after sunset.

Tipping the bottle upside down I finished the last of the moonshine. As I stood up to place the empty on the counter I found myself swaying. Grabbing the railing, I pulled myself to the bar. How strong was that stuff?! I could drink an ogre under the table on normal human swill, this was unbelievable. As I hobbled on a barstool and set the empty on the counter I took a deep breath. My mind was swimming and I could feel the warmth of the booze running down my spine. I looked over, about two seats down was a member of the town's Night Watch. He was a young buck with short black hair, dressed entirely in the black leather of the Watch with an iron sword at his hip. It looked like he just came off duty, and as he mulled over his dinner and drink I could tell it was a long shift. He looked like he could do with some entertainment, I knew I certainly could.

Sliding down a few seats I stood next to him, absently leaning against the bar for support. As he looked up from his food his clear, grey eyes caught my own shining emeralds. This guy looked like he was only about seventeen, that's pretty young to be serving on the front lines. The humans had a tendency to enlist anyone who could raise a blade. I suppose they thought quantity had a quality all its own. Either way, it seemed a damn shame to waste such a perfectly good looking young man on the horrors of Duskwood. Maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was the boredom, or maybe it was the innocent, country boy expression he had, but I felt compelled to play with him a bit.

"Uh, yes? Can I help you?" he asked.

I threw on the coyest voice I could, "I was just wondering, you serve in the Night Watch, right?"

"Yeah, I'm off my shift though. Why, is there something you need?"

I pulled my hood down, freeing the golden locks of my wavy hair to nestle around my neck. I could feel my ears pop out from under the fabric and this seemed to give him a start. "Nothing I need, hon. Just wondering what kind of dangers I can expect should I go traveling through these parts."

"You're… an elf!?" he muttered, leaning away a bit.

"A High Elf," I lied, "don't worry, I don't bite."

He seemed to settle down a bit but still looked taken aback, "Oh, right. Well, the roads aren't safe past nightfall. Worgen are roaming to the west, and Raven Hill has been overrun with the undead."

I nodded while pretending to listen intently. His leather armor was thick enough to provide protection but damn if it didn't cinch up in all the right places. He wasn't the broad-shouldered soldiering type; he had the more wiry strength and lean, fit form of a carpenter or farmer. It helped he was tall too, with long, solid legs and an ass I could… ohhh that moonshine was dangerous.

"Miss, you weren't planning on leaving tonight, were you?"

"Not if you can help it…" I muttered.

"What?"

Shaking my head a bit I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to clear my mind, "I mean, not if I can help it. Sorry, it's been a long day."

His brows furrowed as he turned back to his meal, "That it has." He shoved the rest of his wolf steak in his mouth and said to me, "Sorry, I have to be getting back to my patrol. Stay safe."

"Yeah… you too," I replied, watching him walk out the door. Well, so much for entertainment. Slumping back on the stool I turned towards the bar again and put my head down. That's when the barkeep slapped another bottle on the counter.

"I'm good, thanks," I told him, rubbing my forehead a bit.

"It's taken care of," the bartender replied.

I looked at it. The bottle was a dark, earthen color and sealed with wax. "Who's treating?"

"Some fella came in a while ago, said to give it to the lady in the cloak by the fire."

"Thanks, but I'm not one for strange drinks." I replied. The bartender shrugged at me but left it sitting there. I stared at it, my head swirling in a haze of disbelief at the situation I found myself in. After a few minutes I let out a long breath and picked the bottle up. The weight of the clay made it seem full, but I couldn't feel any liquid sloshing inside.

Taking it, I slapped a few silvers on the counter and retreated towards the door, unsure of what I'd find inside. I'd seen everything from bombs to curses stuffed inside bottles like this and had half a mind to chuck it at the nearest shambling skeleton. Still, my curiosity was piqued, I was bored to tears, and I was three sheets to the wind. Pulling my dagger out I lopped the top of the wax off and spilled the contents out into my hand.

What slid out was a small scroll tied with a black and red ribbon. Oh mother, don't try to be mysterious, I thought as a smirk curled on my face. Then it slowly faded away, mother was many things but sneaky wasn't one of them. She was a paladin and used to strutting around like a peacock, not sending secret letters. What was going on? With a quick glance around I hustled back inside towards the firelight. Unfurling the scroll, I read over her impeccable penmanship but found it spelled out gibberish. Every time I looked at the Thalassian script the words seemed to fade. Cute, I thought. Enchanted scripts were hard to decipher without a mage and even harder when done in the elven tongue.

I stuffed the scroll in my cloak and began to wonder what on earth could be so important that it calls for this kind of secrecy. Certainly she'd know the more hidden you try to make something the more obvious it becomes to those looking for secrets. The most damning messages are the ones delivered in broad daylight in the middle of a crowded street. Still, at least she was trying. Maybe she had a new appreciation for my talents? Either way, it seemed I would be paying my little brother in Theramore a visit. It'd have to wait until morning though, there was no way I was going to travel around Duskwood at night.

Approaching the innkeeper I paid for a room and began staggering my way upstairs to sleep off the shine. There was a commotion outside but I paid it no mind and sequestered myself in my room. It was small and dimly lit by oil lamps but cozy enough. Just as I was about to remove my cloak a crier burst through the door below.

"An abomination of the undead approaches!" he shouted. I dashed out of my room and looked over the railing below. It was the man from the bar, his black leather armor marred with cuts and gashes like he'd been dragged along the cobbled street all the way from Raven Hill. As the watchman turned to go outside the townsfolk of the tavern began barricading the windows and overturning tables in a frenzy.

Flying down the stairs I ran out the door and around the corner of the inn. Forget this, I thought, I'll take my chances with the wolves and spiders. At that point the young watchman spotted me, "Hey, you!"

"What?!" I spat, whirling around on my heels.

"It isn't safe out here, get inside!"

"Sorry, hon, I have bigger fish to fry."

The insistent human grabbed my arm, "No, you don't understand!"

Instinctively I pulled my dagger out and swung it along his fingers, just close enough to graze the skin. The human nearly jumped out of his boots, holding his bleeding hand and staring at me with a mix of shock and confusion. Pointing the blade at his throat I said, "No, you don't understand. I'm leaving."

A ferocious voice rumbled off the masonry, "STITCHES HUUUUNGRY!" The gurgling bellow of the abomination echoed through the town as the Night Watch assembled in the square. The young man who accosted me drew his sword and rushed to join their ranks. Seeing my chance to make tracks, I cloaked myself in shadow and began making my way from building to building.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm no coward, but I'm also no fool. A rogue plans, analyzes, and strikes from the shadows, not rushing headlong into danger. This Night Watch was nothing but a bunch of reckless fools who didn't even have the power of the Light behind them. They kept their town safe by pure numbers, and something told me after tonight they'd be deprived even that. I watched from the shadows as the town's protectors assembled, although there were fewer than I thought. The abomination lumbered down the road and the humans held their swords ready in anticipation. I could almost hear their hearts pounding in their chests. The scent of adrenaline was flowing across the town square as itchy fingers twitched on leather-wrapped handles.

I found myself breathing deeply, prepared to sprint, although whether towards the fight or away I couldn't decide. These humans would be overpowered by such a fearsome monster, but such was their lot for staying in these cursed lands. My hands shifted to my weapons under my cloak. Whether that was the alcohol or my own pride taking over I wasn't sure, but I decided to roll with it. To hell with caution, I was going to show these humans how a Radical fights undeads.

The abomination clumsily ran into the throng of watchmen standing around outside like a gaggle of geese waiting to be hit by a moving cart. Dashing from wall to wall, I climbed onto the roof of the inn while waiting for the monster to be thoroughly distracted. Gazing at the melee below me, I pulled my hair back, the length of it shining in the bright moonlight. With one smooth action I drew my daggers and leapt. My cloak billowed behind me like the wings of a raven as both blades sank into the fleshy back of the undead. The daggers were buried straight down to their hilts and embalming fluid oozed like molasses from the grizzly wounds. Whether my attack actually hurt it though I couldn't tell as it merely shrugged me off like a ragdoll.

Rolling back, I gripped my knives and waited for another opening. A pair of watchmen charged forward only to be swept aside by its enormous meat cleaver. Then this "Stitches" started towards me. Swiping away with its big cleaver, I dodged, dodged, and dodged again, working myself closer with every step. Inside its defenses my daggers found its meaty underbelly and I began stabbing away, fast and hard in a flurry of steel. The abomination stumbled backwards and I leaped away, putting distance between us as I caught my breath. The Night Watch took this opportunity to fall on the creature with their own blades, slicing and wounding, but to little effect. They were strong sword arms but didn't have the finesse of proper warriors. All they managed to do was piss the creature off and several of them felt its wrath for their effort. Even still, I stood back, waiting for another opening.

One came again as some poor watchman was tangled in the abomination's rusted chains, distracting it momentarily. I ran forward and plunged my daggers into Stitches' side. Using my blades for leverage, I hoisted myself onto its shoulders and sunk both of them into its neck. With a cry of rage it grabbed my cloak and threw me off. I landed like a cat. Drawing my throwing knives I hurled one towards its neck, the blade sinking into its throat. Stitches took a step forward as the remaining Night Watch slashed at its legs and arms. I drew a second knife and threw it, striking right below the first in the middle of its chest. Stitches took a second step, slinging its meat hook at the watchmen as it did. The brave, stupid humans were thrown aside by its unholy strength. Taking a chance I sprinted headlong towards the creature. The abomination made a slow swing at me as I jumped on its back, grabbing my daggers and slinging them around my fingers as I prepared to go to work.

Stab-stab-stab, the creature was missing its eyes. In what was literally a blind rage it grabbed my leg and flung me to the ground. This time I landed awkwardly and bounced on the rough dirt. Adrenaline and alcohol pounding in my veins, I got to my feet and charged again, too pumped up to feel pain. The abomination lashed wildly at anything that made noise so I ran on the balls of my feet, fast and quiet. Desperately it flailed its meat hook and chain around, taking out a few more of the Night Watch in the process. With a flying leap I grabbed onto its back one last time. Knife drawn, my eviscerate struck the base of its skull. Stitches leaned forward and I slashed again, and again, and again before it finally collapsed to the ground in a gurgling mess of its own embalming fluid.

Standing on the fallen monster's back, I looked my handiwork over as I cleaned my blades. Undeath poured from the abomination's wounds like some foetid perfume. I nodded to myself and looked around, rather pleased with my performance all things considered. The wounded Night Watch pulled themselves together, tending to the wounded and poking the bloated corpse as if to be sure I killed it thoroughly enough. All in all they seemed unimpressed with my little demonstration. I wouldn't expect such philistines to appreciate the finer arts of martial prowess and athletic ability, but as the watchmen retreated inside and left me standing on my quarry I began to feel a little... taken for granted.

I sheathed my daggers and stepped off the filthy creature. A rogue always expects to be paid for their work. Here I dismantled an abomination for their Night Watch and all I demanded was a little recognition. How many lives did I save this night alone? Well, if appreciation was beyond their unrefined senses, some coin would certainly do. Surely Mayor Ebonlocke wouldn't mind parting with some of his coffers as a reward. Drawing my hood and pushing my way inside the town hall I approached the lord of this land, making sure not to get blood or filth on my cloak from the crowding Night Watch any more than I could help. Ello Ebonlocke looked away from the men now moving through his town hall and regarded me with stern, troubled eyes.

My tone dripped with courtesy, "Excuse me, your lordship, might I have a moment of your time?"

Lord Ebonlocke patted one of his militia on the shoulder before turning back to me, "Yes, of course, stranger. What is it?"

I folded my arms around my cloak, concealing my form beneath its dark green canvas, "Certainly you caught my performance outside, the solution to your abomination problem?"

Lord Ebonlocke's eyes widened as I said this, "Ah, of course! It's not every day outsiders are willing to help us, especially when it seems Stormwind itself has abandoned our village. The people of Darkshire owe you a great debt."

"Yes," I grinned, "that is what I wanted to discuss."

In a flash the lord's expression switched from beaming enthusiasm to its previous hard and set look. "I see. So a sell-sword has come to my town to find a captive market?"

I gasped, my hand rising in front of my mouth in shock. A sell-sword? I've been called a thief, a scoundrel, a spy, a cutthroat, and even a murderer, but a sell-sword? This man dared compare my combat artistry to the blunt skills of an irregular? I had half a mind to demonstrate the difference for him on one of his beloved Night Watch, but in his experience and wisdom he chose that moment to dig out his coffer key.

In a gruff tone he said, "Don't worry, I'll give you your due." He bent over a chest on the floor and unlocked it, then grabbed something inside. "Let it never be said my town doesn't repay its debts. And I am genuinely grateful for your help." With this he handed me a small bag of coins.

I took it and bowed graciously, "Thank you, your lordship! Now if you'll excuse me, I must be leaving."

He didn't reply as I walked out into the square, pushing my way through the crowd again. Counting the silver coins I frowned, there was not even a full gold's worth in there. The night was young, if I tried I could make it to Stormwind by morning. Then I remembered I already paid for a room, and seeing as I was still half drunk I decided to make use of it. Once inside the Scarlet Raven I found the place packed with the Night Watch. Most were wounded being attended to by the inn staff and locals, but a few were there to take the edge off their nerves with a stiff drink or two. I climbed the stairs without a word and found my room, only now it appeared to be occupied. A wounded Night Watch, the man from the bar, lay in my bed. His black tunic was replaced with bandages while his head was propped up on a few downy pillows.

I leaned against the doorway, glaring at the human, "And just what do you think you're doing in here?"

The young man regarded me strangely, "I'm sorry? The innkeeper put me up for the night."

That was perfect. First these humans don't appreciate the spectacle I put on for their benefit, then they pay me a workman's wages for my skills, now they won't even furnish me the room that I paid for! Stepping forward I said, "I already paid for this room."

The watchman looked around and shrugged, "I'm sorry but I'm too banged up to make it back home tonight."

I folded my arms, "I don't care."

Anger flashed across the watchman's face but it quickly fell to resignation. He knew who he was speaking to, he'd seen me fight, and he knew I wasn't about to take any excuses. Tenderly he shifted his feet to the edge of the bed and stood up. His hand was bandaged from where I'd cut his fingers open and as he walked towards the door I saw a limp on his right side. He really was hurt. But then again, so were most of the Night Watch. They were too careless, and this is what happens when you fool around with the undead. My lips twisted into a crooked expression. As he walked past me I caught his shoulder and spun him around back towards the bed.

"Nevermind, just… go rest up," I said.

The watchman gave me a weird look, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll figure something out."

He looked me over for a second before shuffling back to bed. I turned to leave but the young man stopped me, "Hey, um, thank you for helping us."

With my hand on the door I said, "Don't mention it. And I'm sorry about the cut, it's a reflex."

"Oh, it doesn't hurt anymore," he replied, rubbing his bandage. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Jacqueline, but you can call me Jacque Radical."

He gave me a blank stare, "Are… you serious?"

"What? Yes, of course I'm serious," I said, drawing one of my blades. "Perhaps you don't believe I'm the real Jacque Radical? Maybe another demonstration is in order."

"No! Okay, I'm sorry." he said, sliding under the covers a little further as though he was being enveloped by the bedsheets. "You're definitely the umm… real… Jacque Radical."

Putting my dagger away with a smile, I stepped towards him, "I'm joking, relax." The young watchman eyed me cautiously as I sat on the side of his bed, "How about you tell me your name?"

"It's Derrek, Derrek Hagerson," he replied.

I leaned over him, undoing my cloak and letting it fall to the floor beside us, "You know, Derrek, it is still pretty dangerous on the roads."

He sat up a little, "I'm sure you can handle yourself, miss."

"Oh, of course," I said, "but what I mean is, why take any unnecessary risks?" I slid closer to him, my embroidered leather pants nudging against his hips. "Surely we can work something out."

Derrek pulled away, shuffling up against the headboard, "Oh, um, I don't see how."

My, this one was thick. I leaned over him and ran my fingers through my hair, letting it fall in his lap, "I did pay for this room after all, but since you can't leave, I was thinking perhaps we could share."

The boy seemed nervous as I crept closer, my eyes locking his. "I'm sorry, miss, but you don't understand."

"What's the matter?" I said, "Don't tell me there's a Mrs. Hagerson waiting for you."

"No, there's not, but—"

I cut him off, putting my lips to his. My arm reached around his head and he seemed frozen in shock. Then he gave me a hard shove. "Get off of me!"

"What the hell is your problem?" I said, drawing back.

"I'm not into you, alright!?" he said firmly.

My face was the very image of dejection. He took a deep breath as I slowly gathered my cloak from the floor. "I'm sorry," he said, "It's not you it's just, I'm not into… you know."

"Elves?" I said callously.

"Women."

I stopped what I was doing to give him an empty look, "Oh, I see. I… can't believe I didn't pick up on it."

"Yeah, I appreciate the gesture but um, best just leave it at that."

I dawned my cloak and stepped towards the door, "Well then, I guess I'd better be going. I'm sorry about all the unwanted attention."

"It's alright," he said, more at ease now, "please be careful on the road."

I nodded and stepped outside. Shutting the door behind me I let out a groan. I've had my fair share of awkward situations but that one right there took it. Thank my lucky stars no one was around to witness it, although I was sure by the morning word would have spread through the whole town. All the more reason to get out of here, I thought. As the Night Watch slowly sorted themselves out from disheveled and wounded to patched up and heroic I hit up the innkeeper for my refund. She obliged without any argument. Double-booking in this case, while annoying, could be forgiven.

I walked outside where the dripping corpse of Stitches was being surrounded with cordwood, the townsfolk stacking it in preparation for the pyre. These humans… so stupid and tenacious, yet at the same time possessing remarkable bravery. The cool night air settling over me, I pulled my hood up and began the trek north.