Shadows Within

To paraphrase Sander Choen from the game Bioshock: "My muses are a bunch of fickle bitches with short attention spans."

Fawnheart: You work to fast, lol.

Horde FTW: Oh, it may, eventually. He's got a good reason for keeping quiet... as in, he has issues.
Oh, and RAAAAAGE!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shyla wove healing magic into her damaged elbow, knitting the flesh and sinews together once more with a slight grimace, then placed a healing totem in the room to help the process for the both of them. It had been nearly twenty minutes since the attack, but neither of them had said much, being to preoccupied with their wounds.
Finally, when Kalderin felt he could stand without wobbling much, he crouched down beside the unknown assailant, pulling a piece of white cloth from the ankle of the corpse, then proceeded to rifle through the pockets and crevasses of the leathers themselves, clearly searching for something in particular.

"Aneh ideah wha' dat was, mon?" the shaman asked, kneeling beside him. She noted that he was paler than usual, which was quite a feat when the sickly tone of his skin was taken into account.
"Bad news," he replied, flipping the cadaver onto its back to search some more.
Frustration flared up in her belly for a moment, then died down. "Ane'tin moah sp'cific den dat?"
The human pulled a badge from a hidden pocket in the shirt, stared at it for a moment, then moved to the table and sat, tossing the emblem in the center as Shyla followed suit. He laid the cloth next to it with care, and for the first time, she noticed that his hands were trembling.
"One of Stormwind's assassins," he muttered. "Somebody wants me dead... badly."

Kalderin stared at the emblem, which Shyla could read the name "Clemens" etched into from her position. "Ah tak'eet dat means sometin' to ya," she stated.
"Not much, really," the young human admitted. "I never met him."
The shaman nodded, thinking for a moment... then her eyes widened, snapping her head back up at the rogue. "Waitaminnit, mon... so, choo was-"
"Yeah, I was," he admitted. "Proud member. They taught me everything... well, mostly."
"Well, den'oo'd wanna putta hit on choo, huh?" the shaman pried.
"That's just it, I don't know. I could think of a lot of people," the human replied. "Hell, it could, quite literally, be anyone."

After several more minutes of silent staring, the rogue's face hardened, and he stood with an abrupt urgency. "This has to go," he said, striding along the room to the body.
Shyla twisted in her chair to glimpse at the dead man. "Anytin' Ah can help wit'?" she asked.
"Actually, there is," the human intoned. "Wait out by the window."

Shyla felt a little conspicuous there, waiting in a dimly lit alley for no one in particular, but hoped that the human had something good up his sleeve. Besides, somebody might think she was peddling her wares, and spirits help whoever made that mistake.
"Heads up!" he hissed from the window.
The trolless glanced up, confused, then amazed when she saw the rogue, armed and armored, shimmying down then side of the building, with the corpse suspended from his waist with several tough leather belts and wrapped in a layer of black cloth. He grunted when he hit ground, untying the straps to lower the body, and sighed.
"Okay, easy part's done," he muttered. "Now, keep your voice down and listen. I'm going to go out and make a distraction, and I need you to get that," he pointed at the body, "in the water."
"Okeh... whatta'choo gonna don, mon?" she asked in a hushed tone.
She felt the rogue's grin under his mask. "Like I said... cause some trouble."

He stood and helped the shaman hoist the body, stalked to the end of the alley, and waited.
"Oh, one more thing. You might not want to be nearby when it starts to sink," he added, a smile playing in his voice.
"Why no'?" Shyla queried at his back.
Kalderin hunched over, giving a mischievous giggle that stunned the trolless for a moment. "Just trust me, girl," he assured her, then leapt into the street.
She watched as the young human's weight toppled a group of night elves passing by, springing to his feet in an instant and shouting "Staghelm chews demon cock!" at the top of his lungs before pulling a large crowd of very, very angry elves to chase him down the piers, with most of the passersby following along for the sudden burst of entertainment.
The shaman waited a few seconds, peered around the corner of the inn to check for any stragglers, and, finding none, set in as fast a run as she could to the edge of the wooden deck. When she drew close, she gave a grunt and hurled the burden from her shoulder, watching it for a moment as it sailed through the air before plummeting into the salty bay. Belatedly, she remembered to move away, trying to remain inconspicuous as she headed back to the alley. She could still hear the thundering of the crowd as they chased her human up one side of Ratchet and down the othe-
Geh... N-not MAH human, ju-just... just A human. Nope. Not mahn. No'tat all.
Shyla was quite thankful no one was around to see her blushing.

Suddenly, the water where the body landed began to bubble ferociously, and the sound of flesh being rent apart was heard from the surface. Frightened and intrigued, the shaman tried to look from her hiding spot, wondering just what in the name of the Legion he'd done this time-
When a shark, a godsdamned shark, splashed up from the surface for a brief moment before plunging back down, spraying the wood with a diluted salt-water-blood-chunky-flesh-bits mixture; it was hardly the worst thing Shyla had seen, but the sudden shock of it did scare her a bit.
She wasn't the only one. From some of the moored boats and windows nearby, shouts and a few screams rang out into the night. The additional hysterics went almost unnoticed, however... until a few of the boats began to weigh their anchors suddenly.
The tumultuous pounding of feet had dispersed across the city, and now Shyla was getting more worried than she'd have liked to admit about this plan-
"Uehehahaha! Fun shit, lemme tell ya!"

"Kal!" the troll squeaked at the maniacal laughter, turning and jumping at the same time as he snuck up behind her. "What now, mon?"
"You all packed?" he asked, a twinkle of mirth in his eye-lights.
She was lucky they travelled light. "Yeah, all set." Why's 'is eyes glowin' now, and when'd 'ee get outta 'is armor, yeah?
"Good." The boy smiled, his eyes still glowing in the half-dark, and he pulled a wide hat over his head. "Then get changed and let's get outta here."
Shyla looked confused for a moment and put a hand on her throat, then remembered what he meant as her fingers touched the cool metal of the choker. In a dull flash of magic, she took the form of a night elf, pulling a smirk to the rogue's lips.

The human lead, stepping out of the alley and faking shock when he "noticed" the pool of blood like many of the other spectators, and tugged on the shaman's hand, "hurrying" her along like a concerned friend. He didn't notice the troll's heart skip when he grabbed, though.
There was a veritable mob floating around the city in small, concentrated pockets of rage as they scoured the grounds for Kalderin, but he would always pass by without ever breaking his calm, unhurried stride. The rogue was moving like a ghost, passing in perfect nonchalance the same groups of slavering individuals who wished no more than to wring his pale, scrawny neck.
"Don't fall behind, girl," he said in a concerned tone over his shoulder, "this place is going nuts!" Shyla noticed that he'd pitched his voice up slightly, attempting to mask the one from his earlier disturbance.
"Well, don't walk so quickly, then!" she shot back, and they both paused for a fraction of a second when her voice came out without her natural accent. Kalderin turned to look at her, his face holding a mixture of pleasant surprise, confusion, and admiration, but turned away quickly to hide it. A ghostly smile, however, remained.

"There she is. The Maiden's Fancy," he intoned, looking at a particular ship at the docks. It looked rather plain to Shyla's eyes, except for the fact that the crew and a few passengers were aboard, the sails unfurled, and... pulling up the gangplank?!
"Oh, boy," the human muttered. "Time to move."
They both broke into a dead run, charging along the slats and pardoning themselves at the same time, before skidding to a halt near the ship that was ready to sail.
"AHOY!" Kalderin called out, trying to get one of the crew's attention-
"Bugger off, we're weighing!" came the reply form another human wearing an eye patch, who scowled at them both.
The rogue pulled a large pendant of gilded truesilver framing a lovingly crafted shard of jade and held it out for the crewman to see. "Perhaps a charitable donation would vouch for the two of us?"

The sea dog's eye lit up instantly, and the troll could see him calculating the booty's inherent risk against the possible gain. Finally, he cracked and succumbed to his greed, extending the plank most of the way out and weighing it down.
Kalderin helped his companion aboard, then teetered a bit to regain his balance and clambered on as well, slipping the ornament serruptitiously into the pirate's hand with a wink of thanks.
"Mister Masker, what's keeping you?" a goblin, who was clearly the captain, called out.
"Slight hiccup in the arrangements, captain, but we're all set!" The one-eyed man shouted back.
The goblin nodded, either not seeing the two new arrivals or not caring. "Just as well, First Mate. Weigh the anchor and let's get the hell out of here!"

As the ship pulled into the sea, Shyla leaned down to the rogue's ear, or as close as she could due to his hat, and whispered "Done this before, have you?"
Kalderin laughed, adjusting the black shirt he always wore, and moved to the bow. "I just know how to work with entrepreneurs."