Windstrider

Encounter

A/N: This is my first book ever so any constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms! In case any of you were wondering, this book is heavily inspired off of World of Warcraft.

      "Urgh! Come on! Why won't this dumb thing work?!" The redheaded elf exclaimed in frustration, hitting the clunky object onto the side of the table that she was sat at. Letting out an audible groan of defeat, She took off her goggles and carelessly threw them onto the table. "Yet another failure." Furrowing her brow in thought, trying to think of a way of getting her little invention to work. "Perhaps if I change the cogs around.." She mused and then shook her head, not wanting to think too much on the topic.

      Ilvyia stood and brushed herself off, her clothing long ruined by oil, grease and paint. She didn't much care about her overall appearance. She was quite the elf. Long, fiery red hair went down to just below her shoulders when worn down, which it rarely was. It was usually pulled up into a relatively messy yet somehow elegant tail. Small freckles dotted her nose, giving her quite the childlike appearance.

     Not many of her kind pursued the art of engineering. They often chose to practice the finer arts such as tailoring or jewel crafting. Pulling her fiery red hair into a messy tail, she walked out of the door and into the city. It never ceased to amaze her even after living here for so many years. A gentle smile graced her features as she stood for a moment, admiring the beauty of the city known as Nimathrad. 

     Tall, white buildings and spiralling towers with gold and ruby accents sat proudly everywhere. Every single one of them elegant in its design. Auburn and blonde trees dotted the busy streets. Various market stalls were placed here and there with travellers and elves alike trying to haggle prices of the sought after goods. The city of Nimathrad was a peaceful one.

     A small, cheerful grin upon her lips lit up her green eyes as she pranced along. A gnawing feeling in her stomach broke her out of her thoughts and she reached into her worn, practically falling apart satchel and pulled out an apple. Happily munching on her apple, she sat down upon once of the many, extremely comfortable benches, ignoring the judgmental stares she was receiving from the nobles. She was happy with the way she was.

     A slight frown appeared on her face as a crimson strand of hair escaped from the messy tail and blew into her eye. Swatting it away, Ilvyia noticed a couple of guards nearby speaking about some bounty or other placed on someone's head. It was the price that caught her attention.

      She tossed her now finished apple into a bush that was conveniently growing next to her and carefully listened to the guards. What she learnt was someone had stolen from one of the most respected and rich nobles. Sylvia Sunstrider. Her mouth flew open for a brief instant but she brushed aside her amazement. Two hundred gold had been placed on the thief's head. Listening further to their conversation, she eventually found out the name. Someone going by the alias of Windstrider.

      "Winstrider.." She mused and raised a brow, not recognising the name at all.

      With a light shrug, Ilvyia returned to her home to gather her thoughts. That was a lot of gold. Gold that she could use to perfect her creations. Crossing her arms over her chest, the small elf sat at her astoundingly messy desk and went over the information she knew. This 'Windstrider' had stolen one of Sylvia's most precious jewels and was willing to pay two hundred gold for either the thief or the jewel. If she could get her hands on either of them, she would surely be able to progress much more with her inventions. She wondered how many others knew of the bounty and thought it best that if she was to retrieve this jewel it would have to be soon. Without a description of the thief, it would be impossibly difficult.

      She groaned loudly and then pouted in a very childish manner. Ilyvia stood up from her seat and then grabbed her belt, one of her own design that had various attachments, the main ones being two sheaths for her daggers. They were very standard everyday weaponry but they were good enough if she needed to defend herself. Going off the guard's own word's, She assumed that the thief would still be in the city. A small albeit confident grin tugged at the corners of her lips as she slid the daggers into their sheaths, pulling a dark green cloak around herself, pulling the hood up. In her years of living on the streets in some unknown village to her, she had learnt how to take care of herself. It was only recently, a couple years back that she had found her way to Nimathrad, seeking refuge from the difficult life outside these walls.

     The now armed and cloaked redhead walked outside, humming softly to herself. Ilvyia had no idea of how she was supposed to be able to even find this man. Her brow was furrowed in concentration as she walked around the city. It turned out to be a much more difficult task than she had anticipated, much to her dismay. Not even an hour into her search, Ilyvia had retreated to a bench, given up already. The sky was already beginning to darken slowly, giving the city an ethereal look to it as the arcane lampposts cast a calming, beautiful glow everywhere. She lowered her hood and sighed, resting her head in her hands.

She was unsure of how long she was sat there, gathering her thoughts. All she knew was that the breeze was turning cooler and the streets were becoming less and less busy.

"You okay there?" A clearly amused, masculine voice broke her out of her thoughts, scaring the living daylights out of her. Ilvyia could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the hooded man, the telltale glowing green eyes of her kind clearly visible in the growing darkness. "Yes! Just fine." She calmed herself and then crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't appreciate being scared like that." She snapped at the elf, her temper showing itself clearly as she frowned at him with disapproval.

"Easy tiger. I didn't mean to make you jump like that." The stranger said with a small laugh, something almost cat-like about him. She couldn't quite put her finger on why.

"Hey! Don't call me 'Ti-"

The man interrupted her with a smug smirk as he said; "How about kitten then?" Before Ilvyia could spit back some snarky remark, He spoke once again.

"Listen, I could use some help and you seem capable." He raised a brow, leaning against one of the trees that were placed among the sides of the city.

Ilvyia audibly scoffed at the man and stood up, folding her arms as she narrowed her eyes at the man."I'm not helping a stranger. In fact, I don't even talk to strangers so you should probably back off." Her hand instinctively reached down for one of her daggers, not taking her eyes off him.

Suddenly, the man moved quickly and in a way that made it impossible for her eyes to follow and the next thing she knew, Ilyvia felt something cold and impossibly sharp press against her throat. Before she could let out a cry, a gloved hand clasped over her mouth, stopping her from speaking completely. She heard the man sigh rather loudly before he pulled her in between two buildings, out of sight.

"I wasn't asking." He hissed quietly in her ear, the dagger still placed dangerously harshly against her throat.