Umbra flopped onto her bed in her retrofitted barracks in Alterac. Her hands and back made a splat sound as she landed on the pile of furs and blankets topped with an Ogre skin ‘quilt’. The echoes of Qabian’s uncharacteristic knee jerk reaction still echoing in the empty space between her perfect elven ears. She propped her head up and gazed about her dark empty room. It’d be easy to confuse with a dungeon if not for the finer things no elf could live without… and Ogre skin. Her eyes eventually settling on the dim outline of two empty cages. A vicious sneer danced across her face as she easily made her way through the pitch-black chamber to re-light a few candles she only moments ago extinguished. She fastened her scraps of armor back onto her sculpted body and fetched a notebook from the shackle laden table. She flipped through a few pages before tucking it under the unsavory bedding. Umbra looked about the dimly lit room trying to find the rest of her equipment. Various pieces, rings, belts, trinkets had been thrown all across the chamber in a feeble effort to stave off the rage boiling inside of her since the failed night time encounter with a supposedly drunken Oralech.
Umbra looked up at her shield suspended over her bed, a constant reminder of her failure. Her vicious sneer softened to an agonizing stare. Thoughts raced through her head as she tried to piece together how Qabian went from a man uncaring in the failings of other Grim and came to be someone trying to make peace among them, even worse, leaping to their defense.
“Even he has fallen victim to the curse of Silvermoon. Even if he DID offer it, I doubt his pinky would even satisfy, wouldn’t mind all of that face gristle though. Make him look like second place in a beauty contest between him and Syreenna.” Umbra’s voice quaked with anger, echoing off the thick walls and only serving to stoke the flames of her rage. She gnashed her teeth as her stomach reminded her of her most recent failing. She extinguished the candles and stomped her way to the door leading up to the roof. The cold bite of Alterac wind reminded her where she was, she took a deep breath and let out a soothing sigh. Umbra’s drake was circling overhead as though angered by her own angst. Mister Bitey flew down to her without needing to be called. She hopped on and made her way to the ruins of Southshore.
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Umbra stood over the bits and pieces of some destroyed form of what was once a humanoid. Blood was caked on every visible part of her armor, from head to toe. Her weapons laid on the ground in the heap of the elf that she destroyed. Her hammer was engulfed in bits of flesh pounded into every tiny crevice, her spear handle wrapped with loose bits of skin that refused to cleave cleanly. Her seething rage had laid waste to an unsuspecting Sin’dorei picking through the ruins of the abandoned dwarven fortress in Hillsbrad.“Thank you for saving me Ma’am… I would have been killed if not for you.” A soft proper elvish tone struck Umbra seemingly out of nowhere.
Umbra scanned the rim of the exsanguinated impact crater she had made before her eyes settled on a Void elf timidly holding a bow in her hands. The bow’s most recent arrow was lodged deeply into Umbra’s thigh.
“Is this your arrow little one?” Umbra’s cold controlled tone betrayed the anarchy of her mind.
“Forgive me ma’am, I… I panicked… I saw you lay waste to that elf chasing me… and… “ Umbra interrupted the blithering Ren’dorei by pulling out the arrow and throwing it back to her.
Blood poured from the hole in her leg for only a moment before closing itself up. Umbra looked the timid creature up and down before speaking. “If I got worked up over every slight at my expense, I’d lead a very lonely life, what is your name dear?” Umbra somehow managed to not sound too upset by her own words.
“V… Veila…” The void elf hesitated for a moment before just nodding.
“Well Veila… care for a drink? I need something to clear my head and misery loves company.”
“You flatter me with your charity ma’am… I… you’re not trying to poison me… are you?” The void elf unwittingly honed in on Umbra’s true motive.
“Look around you dear…” Umbra gestured to the meeting point of flesh and her fel forged armory, the bits of viscera scattered about the land like seaweed on the shore after a hurricane. “If I wanted to kill you, I would not hesitate to do so, and you’d see it coming as clearly as you see me now.”
Veila approached with a bit of hesitation before offering a shy nod. Umbra uncorked a bottle of The Dark Below and feigned a swig from the bottle before offering it to the purple elf. Veila pulled the bottle to her lips.
“Careful with that, it’s strong.” Umbra cautioned.
Veila took a healthy drink, not wanting to be out done by her hulking savior. Umbra collected her weapons and began walking to the nearby shore, after several minutes of walking and making small talk with the void elf behind her, she eventually took a seat on the grass overlooking the sea.
“What are you doing out here alone. This is no place for an untrained Void elf.”
Veila nodded at Umbra’s words before replying. “I most certainly agree ma’am, but I was hummfffrerrrrrrrd ammmmmamndad…” The poison ripped through the frail elf faster than most. The small amount of exercise and the poison being forced through her veins brought her down hard.
The scene played out just as it had three times last week, and three times the week before, and regularly several times a week since she poisoned her first victim on the intimate benches of Silvermoon shortly after the fall of the Legion. Umbral looked over the limp numb unconscious elf. She pulled a knife from under her tabard and with a swift, fluid, well-practiced motion she had performed countless times before, Umbra sliced off a fillet of finger flesh. Umbral sniffed the flesh then tossed it over her shoulder with an unpleasant sigh.
“Mediocre. Beggars however cannot be choosers. You’ll do. Let’s go to the last home you will ever know.” Umbra sighed and hoisted the elf effortlessly into her hands, carrying her as though she were carrying a bride over the threshold as she loaded the elf onto Mister Bitey. She looked over the unconscious, bleeding elf and mumbled. “At least Crow’s poison still has its bite.” She doused the elf’s finger with an entire bottle of healing potion leaving a strong smell of Siren’s pollen on the back of Mister Bitey and the hands of the elf. The smell of herbs crop dusted their way through the air as Umbra returned to her hell hole with a new toy.