Chapter Two - Just Another Way to Survive

The queasy feeling of yet another day awakens with her as the sun glares into her eyes. She sits up, pushing the rugged and old blanket aside. She ought to buy a new one, once she actually manages to get some coin. Nevertheless, today was a new day, and another chance to succeed. She slowly turns around onto her knees, climbing to feet with some effort. She lifts her hands above her head, stretching and letting the warmth of training climb into her muscles. Taking a step forward, she leaves her temporary bed behind as she steps into the streets, eyeing the busy day before her: Businessmen, guards and whatnot stepping briskly back and forth, like darting birds. Stress, carelessness, discipline; those are only a few of the emotions felt within the crowds.

She blended into the masses, never gathering more than two odd glances at her rugged clothing. The shirt’s sleeves were ripped; the dirt-stained vest was practically no protection at all anymore. Her knees exposed to the wind and her heels just about touching the cobblestones. She turns her head around as she looks for a suitable target; not too armored, yet not too poor.

While walking through the crowd she notices the purses hanging off the thick leather girdles of running merchants. Grinning, she reaches her hand out casually and unclips a pouch buckle with a skilled movement. She plays with the pouch filled with coppers in her hand for a moment, letting the soft textile move through her fingers before heading off, hearing the merchant’s distant cry of despair. Dashing through the masses of people trying to halt her, she realizes that it wasn’t such a good idea to begin nearby the Command Center. Despite this, she grins, ducking through a pair of hands and stepping over another pair of feet getting in her way. The chase continued throughout the day, but otherwise than a slapped wrist by some and a threatening yell by others, she’s not caught.

After last night and Zalerin’s annoyance, her mind lingers with revenge. Keeping the pouch tightly within her thin hands, she stumbles to the inn in the mage quarter, ordering a drink to quench her thirst and ease her mind. Feeling oddly uncomfortable inside, she staggers over to one of the tables in tiredness and puts the flagon upon it with a silent thud before grabbing the back of a patched-together chair. Her eyes wander through the dark pub, the place clearly not one for commoners; men much alike Zalerin and men the complete opposite line together against the wall with drunks and junkies, or falling prey to tricksters or magic and whatnot. Though, the recalling of this place is far from how it is tonight. Tranquil, the place has a fairly eerie feeling to it.

A sharp sting of the alcohol and the splinters of the wooden mug snap her back to reality. She leans back comfortably as she lets the familiar feeling of the mead’s warmth sifting through her limbs, as if a fire was lit in her stomach. Such a familiar feeling it was, and a welcome one; it meant a moment of relaxation, knowing she had completed today’s task early and with ease. The inner warmth in addition to the boiling atmosphere of the closed pub caused her clothing to stick to her body, though the cold coins in the silky pouch hanging in her jacket gave a nice chill. Surely, Zalerin wouldn’t notice that a few coins were missing; she chuckled at the thought, her rebellious side showing clearly when she thought further of it.
Her thoughts brutally interrupted at the intrusion of a simple-looking man at her table, sitting down and looking at her curiously. She returns the peer with a harsh glare, showing her displeasure at the unknown man’s arrival.

They exchange conversation in the hushed tavern, their voices blending in just as all other drinkers at the other tables. The conversation ranges from who she is and what she does, which she reluctantly replies to only when he admits he can help. She keeps the mug far away from her throughout the conversation to keep a clear head as he speaks of a man called ‘Lynx’ who he will direct her to. Agreeing to see this further, whether it’s of any use, she remains on the spot until a shady man at the door to the darkened basement gestures for her; she didn’t like that spot at all, the shadows seem to almost crawl on your skin and the bright torches merely hang to hurt the eyes. Stepping inside hesitantly she tries hard to keep a neutral face, but the interest can’t help but shine in her eyes. What he was offering was unbelievable: a sanctuary, and more importantly, a way to survive! Tasks are mandatory, but those seem a minor trouble when she thinks of the relief and simplicity that may flood through her.

She readily agreed to think further upon the matter, the small space getting to her head. Somewhat panicking at the alcohol’s stress-relief wearing off, she turns to the door hastily. She stepped out of the room with quick, light steps; her eyes scanning the room, halting to give a few glares to watchers before forcing herself through the masses and towards the door, cringing with every touch of another person she felt and wincing at any snarl or grin she was offered.

The fresh air strikes her like a slamming door once she leaves the Lamb, allowing her to take a struggling breath. She stands there, staring blankly forward as she lets what happened in the tavern sink into her head, her mind wandering further to see where this might lead.

Perhaps I should leave what I am and go on with this? After all, it’s merely another way to survive.

She let her feet bear her throughout Stormwind, snatching a second purse as she wandered through the crowds of people wandering home; the winds doesn't bother her as much today, though she pulls her vest tightly around herself. Her lips draw up to an unexpected smile as she wanders; setting into a sprint once she hears the yells of enraged, robbed, men.

She decided to seek this ‘Lynx’ up again to accept his offer.

Just another way to survive.

Intriguing, to say the least. I like your way of writing, Tilly.
I hunger for more.