Return to RP Stories

This story is centered on Ciwen Renn, a girl who had a special connection to Aldraen Miller a long time ago. It's situated in Stormwind, and I think the plot (how short it now may be) tells itself. Also, if you RP a criminal who could have been active at this time (which is about 3-4 years before the First War), you could use this happening IC. There are few people out there who want their characters to be killed and everything, so this is a free feather in the hat to add to the reputation. Just tell me first, if you want to use it.

A wind blew through the still human town. The howling wind was the one giving reason to the name of the city, Stormwind City. It rustled the leaves of the trees around the sleeping streets. It was nighttime, perhaps around an hour to midnight. The alleys were quite and silent. But that didn't stop a certain young woman who was sitting down the at the side of the canals, dangling the legs over the edge.

Ciwen Renn was out on a night-time stroll, which she had done almost each day the last few weeks. She was wearing her usual mage dress, symbolozing her apprenticeship under the arcanists of Stormwind. It was colored purple, cut in a way that made it beautiful yet not extravagant.

She was writing in a small book with a worn leather back, her diary. Lifting the small quill pen from the page and thinking for a moment, she then closed the book and gently put it in her waistbag. Along with it there were two more books, both on the arcane and Ley Lines.

A gust of wind blew through her dress, as gentle as if it was a real person blowing on her skin. It was cold, giving her goosebumps under the clothes. Ciwen decided that it was getting too late to be out with the air growing colder by the minute. She rose and started walking back towards the Mage Quarter. There was a house there, in which Ciwen was renting a room, close to the tower and her tutors.

Stormwind was really a beautiful town, especially at nighttime, Ciwen though to herself. It was dark, not completely but still giving everything a grey tone. Somewhere on the other side of the canal a distance away, there was a light moving which could be a guard patroling with a torch. All the songbirds had since long went to sleep, leaving everything in silence with the only exception being the wind.

She crossed the bridge leading over to the Mage Quarter island, over from the Park side. She then walked in under the archway that lead into her home-part of Stormwind. Her steps echoed softly between the stone walls that surrounded.

When getting on her way back to her home, she suddenly got an uneasy feeling. She looked over her shoulder but saw nothing. The street was as empty as before.

Ciwen shook her head to herself. She was just imagining things. Stormwind was a safe city, nothing like Goldshire had been when she past through it a few months ago. She had been taking walks each other day, and nothing had happened. Even more, the Mage Quarter was one of the safest parts of Stormwind, in contrast to the Old Town.

Shaking off her anxiety, she started strolling again, taking to the left. The house was down the street, waiting with a warm bed. Her magical studies had its toll on her mind, and she would need some sleep before next day's training.

Something caught her attention. There was a sudden sound coming out from an alley a few steps in front of her. Though Ciwen knew she should move on and get in bed before it went too dark, her curiousity often got the better of her, and it did now. She slowed down and walked up to look into the alleyway.

She could see a few people, around five men. They stood looking down on something in the center of their ring. One of them, standing in the middle, was bending down over something. He raised a fist and punched what seemed to be a lying person.

Ciwen's eyes widened. It wasn't worth to stay and look at what they were doing, it was too dangerous. She turned around and tried to sneak back as silent as possible, to take another path. But without any warnings, a hand suddenly shot out from behind her and clasped over her mouth, and another one went around her shoulders. Ciwen tried to scream out of instinct, but only muffled sounds escaped the hand over the mouth. A paralysing fear grew as the person pulled her backwards into the alley.

"Ye're going nowhere", he said in a low voice. A stench of alcohol mixed in with the voice. "I'm not going to hurt you", the voice said again as Ciwen tried to struggle her way out of his hands.

She was violently thrown onto the stone pavement, landing on her stomach so that the air was knocked out. She coughed as she regained breath, and the men formed a circle around her.

"She was a'stalking 'round here, boss", the man who had captured her said to the tallest man in the crowd. "What should we do with 'er?"

A strong hand took hold of her arm and turned her on her back. When she tried to pull away, a heavy knee was pressed on her stomach, pinning her down. Another pair of hands grabbed her wrists and pressed them against the cold stone ground. The only thing she could do was to wriggle, and when she tried, the man having his knee on her stomach slapped her over the face.

"Let me go!", she tried to plead as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She fought them back. "I don't want you anything, let me go!"

"Oh, you're not going anywhere, pretty. Isn't it a little late for you to be up and around?", the man answered, leaning over her. Ciwen couldn't see much in the darkness, but she could make out brown hair and an unscarred face.

"You show her, Merv!", one of the other men said. They stood by looking, showing their respect to the person who seemed to be the leader.

The man who appearently was named Merv took hold of the sleeve of her dress, and ripped. A large piece of the fabric was torn off with a ripping sound. He forced Ciwen's mouth open and stuffed the cloth in, effectivly gagging her. After that, he reached to his hip and suddenly he was pressing cold metal to Ciwen's throat.

"Keep still, and you might live through the night. But I promise you, pretty, if you try something funny, you won't have time to regret it", he said and held the knife in front of her eyes before holding it against her throat again.

Ciwen could feel a lump in throat forming, trying to keep away tears. The man on top of her leaned in to whisper in her ear, making sure she would hear every word.

"You might even like it, pretty little wench."

Despite Ciwen's attempts to control it, she could feel a lonely, warm tear make its way down her chin as the leader began tearing in her robes again.

"Boys, you'll have your share afterwards", Merv said, smiling slyly.

Hours passed. Even though Ciwen was painfully aware of every second, she had lost of track of time and it seemed as if it blurred together in a red haze. She felt as if she had cried all tears there were, and they had mixed with her own blood. The eyebrown had ruptured under a hit, the lip as well. The mouth tasted of blood. At times, she had almost not been able to breathe due to the cloth in her mouth and the noosebleed she had been given.

She had stopped begging for them to stop after a while. Where one ended, another picked up. She felt just like a mirror that had been dropped on the floor, shattered in a million pieces.

"Boss, dawn's nearing. I think we should be moving", one of the gangmembers said. Through eyes which sight had been blurred by blood, she could see that he looked anxious.

Merv stopped what he was doing to Ciwen and turned his head to face the man who had spoken.

"We'll do what I decide, and nothing less." he said, sounding angry at having been proposed an order. "Boys, think you're finished with her?"

The lot nodded shortly, two of them looking over their shoulders out of the alley. Though the alley was still quite dark, it had began to become a little brighter.

"Great then. Scatter, you know the drill." Merv ordered.

The men did as they were told and headed off. One was carrying Ciwen's waistbag with her possesions, along with the gold she had been saving up. Ciwen didn't have the force of will to care. She could have paid anything for the nightmare to end. Merv stayed behind though, getting himself in order as he looked down on Ciwen with a look of disgust. He then bent down over her again, holding his sharp knife at her throat.

"I bet you're going to run straight to the guards about this, aren't you?" he asked. He forced her mouth open and took out the piece of cloth. Ciwen instantly took a breath of air, almost ready to thank him for giving her back the ability to breathe again. "That's just what you are going to do, isn't it?", Merv almost yelled at her.

Ciwen tried to tell him no, to tell him she would never speak of it, ever. But words just wouldn't form, her tongue didn't obey her anymore.

"I can't let you run and do that, you understand me?" Merv said, baring his teeth. "I'll show you what happens to those who cross my path!"

Ciwen tried to beg for him to stop through broken lips, shaking her head in desperation. But it wouldn't help.

The man had a furious mask as he slashed with the knife, blood spattering in all directions.

A few hours later, as the sun crept up and drove the darkness of the night away, a lone guard came patroling down the street. He'd been up for only an hour or so and the stiffness of sleep still lingered. A few early birds had began their serenade.

As he passed around a corner, he saw into an alley. The guard's eyes widened as he spotted a woman lying in there, completely still. Cautiously, he moved forward to inspect.

The woman was simply lying there, dead. The clothes were torn and in shreds and she was half-naked. A puddle of blood had formed beneath her, and when turning the corpse over, the guard could see a large slash over the throat that had been her death. The face had been battered into pieces and was red of both blood and tears. Through the veil of what had been done to the girl, the guard could still see exactly how young she was.

"Poor girl.", the guard thought as he started feeling sick. "Only a teen."

He stood up again and ran to find other watchmen to help. Behind him, the broken remains of Ciwen Renn lied still.

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