#endessa

“And you are certain?” Endessa’s voice rang in melody. 

“You are the most suitable for this task,” An’Set answered. “He enjoys women, elves in particular. Sister cannot risk dirtying her hands-- this came directly off of the list that Aunt Elsennia crafted.”

“Pity, isn’t it? Once all her work has been carried out, do you suppose our leaders will have ceased their arguing?” 

“No.”

Endessa answered him in a hum, as though she agreed with me. “Well, then help your grandmother, my hair, twist it up.” 

By the time her hair was fixed up into a long, but more manageable pony tail, it had been half an hour. 

“Impractical,” An’Set offered.

“Impetuous.” The elder Kaldorei answered with a smile.

“Do you remember everything from Loren’s dossier?” 

“Goddess, An’Set- do not be cruel to an old woman. My mind and body are sharp as ever. And your sister--did you tell her anything?”

“Plausible deniability,” he grunt slipping a red comb into the crown of Endessa’s hair to off-set the white. 

“Not ever the target’s connection to Shadeala Moonsong?”

“Irrelevant.” He offered his arm to Endessa, helping her to her feet from in front of the vanity. “Please do not create a mess, grandmother.” 

Endessa scoffed, tucking her arms into her sleeves. “Please, you wound me. Ya’Til-Anath, grandson.” And this she was gone, out into the night.

There was something eldritch in the way Endessa walked, her head up, regal posture. It was not a walk- it was a glide, as though she floated across the dirty streets of Boralus. 

The rain did not seem to bother her, though she looked about the streets as though she was lost. She’d been waiting for an hour for her target to break out of the bar, and the opportunity arose when the man stepped out, alone.

His grubby hand rolled a cigarette and he glued his eyes on Endessa as she came to a stop to look down either street. “Lost, dove?” he asked with a grunt of a laugh. “Let Henry tell you tha’ way-- know this city betta’ than a Proudmoore!” 

Endessa covered her lips with her sleeve, chuckling softly. “Oh would you? I wished to find a place to rest for the evening, but I’m terribly lost. Is this Upton?” 

Henry let out a guffaw, “No, m’lady it’s about the farthest from it. How’s about I show you tha’ way, maybe give ya a tour of the real gems of Boralus.” He grinned, offfering out an arm, which she took. 

The thing about bad men, was that they often looked like every other man. Henry wasn’t any different. 

Her mind shuffled through the dossier:

Henry James Ruger. Human, Thirty-nine.

Then skipped down:

Trafficking persons numbered in the thousands

Then the names, leagues of names of elves, humans-- varied in age. All labeled now, as ‘missing’ to the Alliance or Horde respectively. 

When they turned down an alley, Henry’s hand dropped down her back and dangerously inappropriate, onto her bottom. “Could make a stop here, whatcha say? A fava’ for a fava’?” 

Endessa’s typically kind eyes grew cold- it was, perhaps a more natural look-- one that all Duskbringer’s possessed. “Do you know what I find the most disgusting about you?”

Henry blinked, as though perplexed by the question. He did not get a second chance to respond before Endessa’s eyes pulsed dark lavender and she whipped her arm around. Out of her sleeve a knife flew and looped around him to stab Henry in the back. Before he could shout, Endessa was in front of him, her hand clapped over his mouth before she threw her weight to slam him up against the alley wall.

 “It’s that you’re handsome, for a human-- handsome and charming and you’ve used your beauty this way. Now,” she swung out her air, knives filing out of her sleeve and hovering around her. Each was inscribed with arcane runes, and each responded to the Seal Maker’s will. “Tell me where your ships make birth, and when next they move. The more detail, the quicker your death.” 

“Y-YOU CU--” He began, when she let her hand off, but was silenced when a second knife buried itself in his forearm. Endessa hummed.

“And if you give me something on Moonsong? Well, then perhaps you’ll have a good death.”

When she was finished, Endessa pulled, in total, nineteen knives out of Henry James Ruger’s body. Off of his body, she took everything of value-- coin purse, rings, and identification papers. Whomever found his body would likely think that Henry had brushed, unfortunately, with some maniac thief. And Endessa, she was back through in Stormwind without a trace left behind her.