Wildfire Riders

"Father's been acting weird these past few days. I'm not sure what's wrong with him, but he keeps crying, and telling me how much he loves me - and tries to make sure I tell him how much I love him too."

"Okay, I have to go now, father's guests are over, and he promised them I'd entertain. It's going to be fun, I brought all sorts of foods from the Feather!"

Rayala Alerria clicked off the gnomebox with a sigh. Conversations with the Riders were one of her favorite past times, especially with the disappearance of her two best friends, Genise and Ilarra. She made her way over to the nearby mirror, adjusted her gown, and fluffed up the wild mess of curls atop her head, smiling softly.

"You're in charge of the Feather now, Raya," the words of Ilarra Stormrunner's shadow spoke quietly in her ear, just three days earlier. "You get to become the woman that Genise had made herself. You're going to be great at it."

She snapped from the slight flashback, and for a moment in time, she saw a great woman in the mirror; she saw 'Madame Rayala Alerria, Archmage of Stormwind and Proprietess of the Silver Feather". It brought a smile to her lips, and with renewed confidence and bravery, she clicked her heeled sandals together, and sped down the steps of her father's estate!



Back at the Silver Feather - a young, gorgeous, dark-haired woman twisted and shuffled about in her bed. Rusanni, sister to the musclebound Rusan and the feminine Rusana couldn't sleep. Bad visions floated amidst her mind; the gift of seeing that her brothers did not share with her was unfriendly on this night.

"Rusanni?" A gentle hand touched at the girl's shoulder as Rusana settled down beside her. His perfect, long blond hair swept down over bare shoulders and he smiled down at his sister as she awoke. "What's wrong, dear sister?"

The youngest of the Rusa triplets swallowed softly and closed her eyes, blinking out tears. "Mistress Rayala..."



"Rayala, dear? Are you ready yet?" An older, sniveling voice called out from the main room. Rayala giggled softly and continued to arrange the tray of appetizers she had prepared earlier for her fathers guests.

"One moment, father - I'm almost done!"

A few sprinkles of this, and a dash of that, and Rayala smiled, pleased with herself. "A meal that Aryk would commend!" She giggled brightly, and lifted said tray into her hands, heading for the main room.

Seemingly floating on her feet, she paid little initial heed to the occupants of the room. The wiry, shady-looking fellow with all the decorations and the glowing dagger; yes, that one. The one sitting in the middle of the ten stereotype henchmen from Goons R Us. His greasy brow perked as he watched the young woman, fingers folding together beneath his chin as a wicked smile curled upon thin lips.

"Now what we have here," she explained, settling the tray down on the table before them all, unaware of the reddened, tear-filled eyes of her father. "...Is sweetened kodo-bites, freshly cooked and topped with an array of spices directly from Omarr Six-Potts of Nagrand."

Lorin Shadowblade - the shady fellow there - smirked as he continued to inspect Rayala, and tilted his head, speaking quietly to Rayala's father. "I do think I've found ample payment and interest to those debts of yours, mister Alerria."

"No!" The old man exclaimed with a sob, hands shaking as he verbally begged the expelled SI:7 agent. Rayala blinked, unsuccessfully pushing a mess of platinum-blonde curls from her eyes and turning to the group.

"You've been gambling again!"

She was cut off from saying much more, as Lorin decided to fill her in. "Actually, child, he wasn't gambling this time. I'm afraid your old man was simply getting in over his head in a vain attempt to become something he can never be."

Raya's gaze followed Lorin's to her father's weeping face. "And in the end, he cost me a lot of gold, and my son's life at the hand of the Stormwind Guard..."

A flick of the wrist and a foppish gesture of his silk-gloved hand, and the goons around Lorin slowly circled the old man and his daughter. Raya's fingers squeezed tightly at the tray as she lifted it from the table, breathing increasing with growing fear. "O..oh... um, p..perhaps you'd like to try a bite, while we discuss a way to fix things? My father's a reasonable man, and I'm sure this can be settled civilly."

Lorin didn't initially respond - he was too busy whispering into old man Alerria's ear; smiling cruelly. Raya's father squeezed his eyes shut again, tears streaking his cheeks... And he nodded his head, suddenly beginning to cry much harder.

"Excellent... Yes, my dear, I do believe this can be handled civilly." Lorin slipped to his feet, towering several inches over the fledgling sorceress. Plucking one of the kodo bites from the tray and testing it, a creepy smile passed over his lips and he gave Raya a quick one-over.

"Such a wonderful young woman, willing to make such a sacrifice on her abomination of a father's behalf." He leaned down, causing Raya's eyes to widen in intimidation, and sniffed at her, before grinning. "Undress her..."

Raya's eyes widened in horror as the men closed in, and with desperation, she flung the tray into Lorin's face, temporarily taking out the first of her attackers. A quick fireblast disabled another, and a weak arcane explosion faltered the rest.

Truth be told, however; despite her training beneath a sorceress as powerful as Genise Crownsilver, Rayala was a horrible apprentice as far as the magicks went. It only took a short time before a punch landed squarely to the back of her head, and she crumbled helplessly to the floor below...

And as she cried out in agony to her father, he did nothing more than watch...

Shame, hurt, despicable morals; all coursing through him as his tears continued to flow, an his sobs never stopped...

But it would be okay...

Raymond Alerria would live to see another day...



"I hate it when they freeze up like that. Meh, dump her body in Old Town - shame for such a pretty, young thing to try and take a shortcut to see her friends at the Pig.

Break the old man's arm as well, I'm still not quite sure he got the point."



Carystin Dawnsprinter and Chrystal Kaleigh were two of many who stood gathered around the crowd outside of the alley. Cary's face was buried into Chryste's shoulder as the city guard tended to the deceased young woman; and the Knight-Captain herself simply stared on, eyes redder than the cheeks surrounding them and a few tears of her own streaking her cheeks.

There was a hole in the floor. It gaped black, ragged edges as if something had taken a bite out of the cold marble tiles, and was big enough to hold several people end to end. As Brother Julien leaned forward to peer into the echoing depths, the depths reached up, grabbed hold, and took a bite out of him.

The mortuary was dark. The figure in binary colors ignored Brother Julien as he twitched, lost in his own private world of imaginary pain, on the floor. The figure followed the shadows past him, walked across the place his eyes saw as a hungry maw, and traveled along night's maze of winding turns and treacherous, empty open spaces. The figure took an extra step that didn't happen, its shoes making no sound at all on the hard white tiles, and walked out into another of the rooms with the cold steel drawers in the walls.

The figure moved to one of the slabs built out of the floor, and pulled the sheet back.

Someone had closed Raya's eyes to hide the pain and terror trapped in them. They hadn't yet removed the tangled black ribbon from where it indented her throat. Someone would be by in the morning to take pictures, the guards had said. For evidence; best to leave it until after, they'd said. The second, matching ribbon had been left alone as well, a bloodied bow still in place in her caked platinum hair.

The sheet was pulled the rest of the way off, and the bruises not above Raya's shoulders became visible, black and purple. The scrapes and scratches blared fading red across her greying skin, and the bones that had been broken meant the priests had been unable to make her look like she was peaceful or asleep, though they'd tried. She looked like an unloved doll dropped to the ground; she looked like a murder victim, and worse.

A gloved hand lifted up Raya's forearm, and it flopped in the middle, limply hanging looser than it should. Blood and mud had dried under broken fingernails.

Otherwise, she was fine.

This would do.

[Guild] [Chryste]: *Flat* Rayala has gone missing.
A pause; pained silence.
[Guild] [Varenna]: ...Missing...?
[Guild] [Chryste]: Her body is no longer accounted for.