This night was no different than the others.  The city slowly quieted as it went to sleep.  There were no carts rolling across the paving stones, or voices filtering through streets.

This was when Velnire wandered, her feet following an unseen path that she assumed they knew from her previous life. Night after night she would find herself stopping at the same places, watching the buildings as if they would tell her some kind of story and relive one of her lost memories.

There was a manor house tucked away in old town that she usually found herself at first, after she would make her way into the dwarven district.  It was the tavern of the Shady Lady that seemed to catch her attention, leaving her to stand at the canal for long periods of time without knowing why.  One of the patrons had told her that it wasn’t always a tavern but they couldn’t remember what had been there before.  No memories ever found Velnire here, her walks just left her with a feeling that something was missing like scattered pieces of a very big puzzle.

Only her feet knew where to take her and so they led her on, always avoiding the pavilion and graveyard she would be brought to the Cathedral to stand.  She couldn’t even guess her connection to this place as the welcome she had received there hadn’t been that warm.  One girl had been kind? Yes we will say kind and had stitched up the wounds on Velnire’s arms but she was clear in saying that the dead were not welcome in the Cathedral of Light.

The dead.

Velnire knew that undead fought amongst the Horde and yet corpses openly walked the streets of the city, ‘pardoned’ and free to fight for the alliance.

She supposed it was to her benefit, one of the first things she came to understand after her ‘awakening’ was that she wasn’t truly alive. 

Her eyes seemed to bother people the most, having been drained of colour it was the black, lifeless pupils that everyone noticed first.  Her skin, drained of life was so pale that at times it looked almost grey which only made the rich red of her hair seem unnatural.

These things she might have overlooked, blamed on something else but this wasn’t the end of it.

She never slept, sometimes days between, her eyes would close but it did not stop her from hearing the world around her and dreams never came.

Eating and drinking were no different.  She never felt hunger and only sometimes did she feel the desire to sip from a drink.  Those that tried to care for her before she found herself awake stopped trying when this realization was made.

They were afraid.

Her blood was the most obvious sign; the wounds she had woken up with were unclean and the blood was so dark that it was nearly black.  Days and weeks had gone by and still they continued to heal, if you could call it healing.  She would need to find an alchemist.

But…

Like many other things this way of life had a sense of familiarity, she was comfortable in this existence.

She was at peace.

Part of her wondered if this was how the other dead lived and maybe even how they had awoke.  They were the ones that she watched in the crowds, they were the ones she focused her attention on.  Perhaps learning about them could in turn teach her about herself.

This night as she walked these things played over in her mind.

Those that passed her by daylight avoided her, unkept and covered with dirt and old blood Velnire had not bothered to change the filthy rags she had found herself in.  Those that passed her often commented on them calling her ‘beggar’  or ‘corpse’.

None seemed to know her, and often Velnire was left to wonder if they even really looked at her.  She was dead, what did it matter who she was.

At night they might as well have run screaming for all of the fearful looks they cast and the distance they kept between them. This amused Velnire.  She had used this to entertain herself more times than one, following victims to the door to their homes before passing.

That had not been her intention tonight though but Velnire was almost surprised to find herself following a young merchant on her wander to the devastation once known as ‘The Park’.  Where or when she had started to follow behind him, she wasn’t sure but the glances he cast her suggested it had been some time ago.

Slipping down and alley, the merchant picked up his pace and Velnire followed, perhaps tonight wouldn’t be dull after all.

As she gained in distance the darkness shrouding the alley made it hard for her to see and before she knew it, found herself at the other side.  He was gone.  She had heard someone say the panicked have no need for horses but now she believed it.  Grumbling to herself Velnire conceded to the loss and began to turn back around.

The sharp tip of a blade pushed against her back, digging threateningly between her shoulder blades.

“What do you want?” he asked, surprising Velnire with the courage in his voice. The merchant hadn’t gone, and instead had hid himself in the darkness. This would be fun.

 Smirking, Velnire shrugged carefully.  “Give me your gold.” was all she replied.  The merchant erupted with anger “YOU are not in a position to make demands.” He finished with the jab of his dagger. 

Velnire wasn’t shaken and smirked over her shoulder with a response. “What are you going to do, kill me? Call for help?”

“I will arrest you!” he spouted in an irritated tone, making Velnire laugh.  “Arrest me? Are you a guard?” she questioned, her tone sounding more of a mentor then a victim.

The merchant persisted, trying to hold the confidence in his voice.  “I will take you to the keep myself.”

“Right” Velnire laughed shortly “I will simply just walk with you.” She chided.   This put the merchant at a loss, and Velnire waited for his next move.

“I will let you go if you leave me alone.” He said after a pause, maintaining a stern note.  Velnire only laughed again and responded casually.  “I will kill you the second you lower your blade.”

The merchant made a noise that sounded both frustrated and confused “And if I give you my gold?” he asked, conceding.

“Then we both leave here without a stab wound.” Velnire explained simply.  Next followed a long drawn out silence but the merchant lifted his blade and Velnire immediately heard the jingle of a coin purse.

Donning a victorious grin, Velnire turned around to congratulate her victim.  “It seems you will liv…”

A gasp erupted from the young man’s lips as she turned to face him, stopping her words.  His expression, a shocked look of disgust and his tone only exaggerating it.  “Ms. Konway?”

Velnire’s grin dropped from existence as the merchant identified her and heaved a sigh of annoyance.

As her own blade pushed its way between the young man’s ribs she eased him to the ground.  “Idiot” was her only response.

Grabbing the coins, Velnire looked down at the body of the merchant, it was a bittersweet feeling.

He had known her…

But Havyn Konway was no thief.

Stepping away from the body she made her way back into the darkness, touching her blood covered hand to the pouch at her waist.

She would find no answers here.