Murder Row was always darker than the rest of Silvermoon City, but the patrons keeping the bars and mana parlours open late into the night preferred it that way. Now, for instance, in the smallest hours of the morning, the meticulously cobbled street was lit only with the golden glow emanating from those establishments, leaving no shortage of pitch-black corners and alleyways for the criminal element of the city to do their business. The Forsaken woman had been through here enough times on guard patrol to know what went on in those dark pockets of night. Tonight her customary armor and robe had been left at home. Her limp plum hair fell loosely over only a dark-blue cloth shirt, the left sleeve sticking wetly to her arm a stark contrast to the puffed cuff on the other arm. Her matching skirt was also spotted darkly in places with a strange dampness. It was hard to say whether she failed to notice or simply failed to care.
As she stood on the steps of the inn that served as a shortcut from the Royal Exchange to Murder Row, having a front door in one and a back door in another, the woman regarded the street with an unnatural stillness. She looked almost calm at a glance, but there was an underlying tension, a set to her jaw and her stance that spoke more of an animal waiting to pounce. After several minutes simply watching the street with glowing eyes, letting the sounds of the people in the taverns and the parlours wash over her, she began to follow a sin'dorei man as he stepped out of a tavern a few doors down. His dark, disheveled hair, scruffy goatee, and beaten leather coat marked him as a less than reputable member of Silvermoon society; his gait marked him as very drunk. The woman made no real attempt to quiet her movements, but it was still nearly a block before he noticed her behind him.
She froze as he turned, and after squinting through the darkness at her his face cracked into a cocky grin, making the bloodthistle cigarette on his lip bob. "Coming to arrest me, guard-girl?" He tried to sound smooth, but his Orcish was heavily slurred. "I'm not doin' anything wrong tonight, luv. Just headin' home from a night out with the boys."
The woman stood watching him for a moment, her hand lightly touching her wet sleeve. Then she shuddered, and her mouth opened just enough to whisper, "I need something from you."
The sin'dorei's eyes widened. His ears perked up visibly. "Even the deader guard-girl has her vices, huh? What do you need, china doll? What can I hook you up with?"
He stepped a little closer, and she shuddered again, closing her eyes. Her voice came with a practiced steadiness. "I need someone to tap me. I'm full of Shadow magic and I-I need to get it out. Please."
One of his long eyebrows raised, and his grin widened. He regarded her with eyes glowing green with fel-magic, nearly glowing so bright as to show through his drink-heavy eyelids. "Doing us both a favor, then, are you? Shadow's not so good as proper Arcane, but it'll do in a pinch." He edged back toward the dark entrance of an alley between the buildings, nodding to her to follow as he removed his stained leather gloves. She hesitated, then bit her lip and followed him into the shadows.
A minute later the Forsaken bit back a screm as the alley was lit with a sparking purple shimmer. Through clenched teeth she managed to murmur the words "Thank you" as she blacked out.