Elf-Stabbing for a Purpose

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In the days since Malhavik had forced her to return, the Shadowblade had much to sort out in her mind. The conflicts and complications she had run from were still here, though she was able to look at them more objectively after her break.

Although she was still angry and bitter, she’d set about trying to see to her problems, one by one.

Breygrah was broken, mentally as well as physically. There seemed to be no fight left in her after she’d gotten the ‘kodo in a butcher’s shop’ treatment.

Syreena talked to Cobrak and gotten his assurance that he was still a Grim. “You are Grim, or you are nothing,” she reminded him of the old Grim saying. She then suitably promised to end him if he ever threatened a Grim for the sake of ‘nothing’ again.

Kex’ti was the worst problem for her personally, but she’d seen him beaten and bloodied in Malhavik’s crypt, so she knew he had suffered. She was also not ready to face him again anytime soon. Syreena sent him a letter, offering a truce, at least until after Accalia was dealt with. She offered to meet with him alone to discuss it. That would at least give her some time to get things in order so she didn’t have to worry about him the same time she was dealing with so much else. Or he would set a trap for her at the meeting, and end her. That thought didn’t frighten her as it once did. Kex’ti accepted the truce in a written reply though, and indicated they could discuss their situation after the battle with Accalia.

Accalia, obviously, was the biggest problem. There was nothing Syreena could do about that though. Not yet.

Vionora was still a problem too, of course. A problem that she recently discovered others had plans on solving, or at least, minimizing. Darethy had entrusted her with those plans—plans that would hurt a Grim—and Syreena had assured him she’d keep his plans in confidence, for the good of the Horde and even the world.

Since that night, she’d been conflicted. She’d promised not to warn a Grim that people were planning to hurt him, if necessary, to get what they wanted from him. She respected Darethy’s worldly wisdom, and she had an odd trust in him ever since she’d challenged him in Orgrimmar, and he didn’t gloat or treat her cruelly when he had her beaten. Maybe it was because there was pretty much nobody that she fully trusted on a daily basis, that she often found herself wanting his approval. She realized now, that desire had interfered with her judgment as a Grim.

She didn’t deserve approval or friendship from anyone if it cost her even a small amount of her loyalty to the Grim, even someone like Darethy, who acted like a father among the Forsaken and even the Horde. She would not start down that slippery slope and end up like Lilly or Khorvis, helping enemies when it seemed like a good thing to do. No, she would have to find a way to make sure she didn’t allow anything to affect her loyalty to The Grim.

“You are Grim, or you are nothing,” she muttered to herself. She would hold herself to the words she held others to. She would not let a Grim be attacked without warning just because she had made a promise to an outsider.

She sent off a quick note to Malhavik, grabbed her swords, and headed out in search of someone.


Syreena stepped from the shadows onto the path in front of Alfirin. The elf was looking down at some paperwork when she realized the presence before her. She looked up, blinking her eyes at Syreena.

“Excuse me?” Alfirin asked.

Syreena looked around briefly. There was nobody too close to them. She looked back at Alfirin, and asked, “Where’s Darethy?”

“Darrethy?” Alfirin asked as she blinked again, somewhat taken aback. “He’s off running some errands. Why, is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah,” Syreena answered, “you can help me.” She drew her blades, hesitated a moment, then resigned herself to making Darethy hate her.

“We can talk about this,” Alfirin assured her, her brows furrowing lightly at the tone of her voice. She looked at the blades before glancing back to the rogue.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Syreena said, and she stepped forward and stabbed at the elf with the longer blade.

“I ins-,” Alfirin started. She had reached out just then, but the rogue had been too fast for her. She blinked and looked down, finding the blade had pierced her clothes. Her belly drew some blood onto the torn robes. She blinked at Syreena.

“Please,” Alfirin said.

But Syreena had already disappeared into the shadows. Alfirin peered around herself, and then groaned, holding her stomach. She bit her lip, and then muttered a quiet spell under her breath.

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