The rogue lurked in the shadows of Dalaran. Early morning shadows were not the best for this sort of thing, but what choice did she have? She fingered the gold coin tucked away in a pocket. The message carried in the random-looking scratches on the coin had set her on this course. The coin had arrived via mail, no explanation other than what the scratched code told her. And that was little enough. A warning was all. Vague, but from a trusted source. And now that source had disappeared. And so, heeding the warning, Vala was no more. Now she used Merana. The name had once belonged to her grandmother, dead a long time now like the rest of Merana’s family, at least as humans reckoned such things. And likely no one now would have ever heard of her.
Merana turned her attention back to the task at hand: the cloaked figure she was following. He seemed human, seemed Kirin Tor even, right down to the purple robes, but she had noticed the faintest of shimmers around him. Something she had come to associate with some sort of cloaking or disguise magic. Who knew what hid beneath. She hoped to find out.
She shadowed the man through the nearly empty streets, trying to determine his purpose. To all appearances, he was merely out for a stroll. She watched him nod a greeting to an old Draenei. She smiled at the brilliant flash that was a small phoenix hatchling darting to hide under the Draenei’s cloak.
The man she followed paused for several minutes outside The Wonderworks. The shop had not yet opened for the day. Could he be thinking of buying a toy?! He seemed to be studying the exterior of the shop, so Merana also scrutinized the place. She noticed nothing that seemed unusual or noteworthy, and after a few minutes, the man moved on.
His next stop was the Dalaran Visitor Center, which was just opening for the day. Merana followed him inside, shadows wrapped tightly around her. The man spoke briefly with Archivist Betha, his voice too low even for Merana’s sensitive hearing to pick up the words. Then the man turned to Andrew Matthews, the Guild Master, who nodded at his words.
“Certainly sir, we do have a copy of those records here. Although that guild was not chartered here.” Matthews pulled out a heavy tome and flipped through it, finally stopping at a page roughly halfway into the thick book. “Here you are.” He turned the book on the counter so the stranger could read it.
Merana dared to move closer, near enough that she could smell from the stranger that Old Spices concoction that so many in Dalaran seemed to like to wear. The man seemed to have applied the scent rather heavily. Did he just like it that much, or was he trying to cover another odor? Perhaps an odor of decay?
Stifling a cough, Merana looked at the pages the man was reading. It was a guild roster. The Veritas guild roster. She used all her skill at remaining undetected as she slowly backed away. Could he be looking for a Vala on the list? The warning from the gold coin had indicated that Vala needed to disappear. Good thing there was no Vala there. Merana studied the man’s face, committing it to memory, just in case those were his real features. The man reached the end of the listing and shook his head, an expression of disappointment crossing his face. He thanked the Guild Master for his time and hurried out the door. Merana followed.
No more sauntering on this trip. The man walked directly to a narrow street nearby, pulled something small from his robes, and spoke into it. A moment later he vanished. Merana quickly checked the area. No, not invisible. He had actually left. But how? She hadn’t seen a portal such as she had seen many mages use. She paused. Perhaps a warlock had summoned him away. She cursed, in Dwarven, at the thought. Then cursed again because, while Vala would have cursed in Dwarven, Merana never would; wouldn’t even know the words. She’d have to be more careful.
A gasp startled her. She turned to face two Kirin Tor mages, who had stopped their morning stroll at the sound of her cursing. She let the shadows fall away from her and bowed to them.
“Ishnu…uh…alah.” Damn, she’d better practice that. “I don’t suppose either of you speak the Dwarven tongue. I am trying to learn…”
The mages glanced at each other and the man chuckled. “Only a little, miss. Enough to know that those aren’t words you’ll be wanting to say to any dwarf.”
“No?”
Both mages shook their heads. “No. Well, not unless you have a burning desire to start a brawl.”
Merana nodded. “I see. Suppose I shouldn’t have trusted that goblin. Guess I’d better actually find a dwarf to teach me better.” She bowed again to the two Kirin Tor. “Ande’thoras-ethil.” Well, at least she hadn’t stumbled over that phrase. She vanished back into the shadows, leaving the mages muttering about elves and rogues.