Pursuit

Beckyann's heels clicked on the paving stones as she walked through the deserted streets of Old Town. The sound echoed from the shuttered buildings around her, eerily rebounding from the stone fronts of buildings and carrying far on the wind. She paid it no mind, pulling her overcoat tightly around herself to avoid getting her dress wet from the water that was still dripping from the eaves. It had rained recently and there were also puddles to avoid along the ill-repaired road.

As she walked, Beckyann maintained a neutral expression on her face, but her mind was tense. She studied the sound of the echoes her heels made, noting a faint pattern returning in the sound that she knew was not from her own feet. Someone was walking behind her, had been walking behind her for several minutes now through this otherwise deserted part of town.

Still acting normally, Beckyann slowly picked up her pace, not enough to concern whoever it was behind her, but enough to discern if the person was trying to keep up with her or if it was just random coincidence that caused the person to follow her. As she picked up her pace, the pace of the echoing footsteps behind her also increased, and she bit her lip in irritation.

A normal woman would be filled with fear. Walking in a darkened part of town where no one could hear her cries, she might be concerned that a rapist or cutthroat dogged her steps, waiting for the moment to strike. To Beckyann, such concerns were beyond her. If it was a man thinking to prey on her, it would make her giggle for a moment to know that she'd fooled him into thinking she was alive.

And then she'd tear out his throat.

No, it was not a mortal, mundane concern that filled Beckyann's mind as she again picked up her pace, but a growing feeling behind her that she could recognize from some distance away. The one thing that could make her skin crawl and make her feel like she wanted to throw up. Whoever was following her (and they were definitely following her!) was giving off a radiance, a hint of Light that left her feeling ill just thinking about it.

She was being followed by a paladin.

She turned a corner, thinking to lose line of sight with the person. As soon as she did, she broke and ran, her heels digging into the cobblestones as best as she could. There was some risk she would break her ankle, but pain was a dull and distant thing to her now so she was willing to take the chance to get away from the Light-wielder that had chosen to pursue her for some unknown reason.

Behind her, the steady footsteps of her pursuer picked up, turning into a clanking, banging rumble as the person began to pursue her in earnest. There was no mistaking it now, she was being followed by a plate-armored Light-wielder and she had no idea why. Worse, she was wearing a dress and bereft of her combat armor, having been working in Stormwind and going about her errands. She would have to use deadly and illegal magic if she were going to defend herself.

In a panic, Beckyann rushed around another corner, her eyes widening and her shoes sliding on the cobblestones as she came to an abrupt stop in a dead end. She'd taken a wrong turn in her flight and now there was nowhere to go. The sound of her pursuer grew louder and she turned, prepared to face the inevitable.

Why must they hound me? What have I done to deserve this? I just want to exist and go about my business, but this is too much to ask isn't it? Perhaps I've been a fool to think that I can change anyone's minds. Maybe this entire thing is the hopeless dream of a forlorn spirit. Whatever the case, I won't give in. I will fight to the bitter end to protect my right to BE.

As the sound of her pursuer grew even louder, Beckyann's hand crept up to her hair. She had her golden locks done up in a bun to keep it off her overcoat while she was walking. As she had told Redamous, when she dressed up she didn't like to be completely unarmed. Her fingers slid amongst the strands of her hair, feeling the decorative metallic hilt that was concealed as a hairpin.

It was a feeble weapon at best. A long stiletto-like pin that had a single death rune inscribed on it. Unlike a living person however, Beckyann could use it to channel rather deadly magics, and a stab wound from it would fester. It was better than nothing, and all she had. She paused, hand on her hair, not drawing the weapon yet as she waited.

She didn't have long to wait. In another moment, the form of a silver-armored paladin appeared, jogging in his heavy plate and looking slightly out of breath through the open face of his helm. He stopped when he saw Beckyann, bending forward a little and placing his hands on his upper-thighs, gasping for breath.

“S-sorry, you run r-really fast,” the man panted. Beckyann noted with a quick inspection that he was likely slightly out of shape based on the extra weight he carried in his visible face. She remained still as stone as he looked up at her and straightened. “I didn't think I'd catch you.”

“You've caught me as you can plainly see,” Beckyann stated coldly. “There is nowhere else I can possibly go. What would you have with me?”

The paladin offered her a smile and then reached to his belt, his hand near the hilt of his blessed sword. Beckyann tensed, her eyes locked on his hand. The man reached past the sword and pulled out a pouch, holding it up in his hand and bouncing it lightly in his palm. A coin pouch.

HER coin pouch.

“You dropped this at the market Miss,” the paladin said pleasantly. “I think a cutpurse tried to take it from you but was only able to sever one of the strings. It fell loose as you were walking and I saw it. I'm sorry if I alarmed you, but I didn't want you to lose so much coin.”

Beckyann blinked a few times, her hand slowly sinking down away from the weapon concealed in her hair, “T-thank you. I...I hadn't noticed. That was kind of you to bring it to me.”

The paladin smiled and tossed the pouch to Beckyann, who caught it with a quick movement. He gave her a formal bow and one last smile, his voice more calm as he regained his breath, “It is my pleasure to serve citizens of the Alliance miss. You have a pleasant evening.”

With that he turned and left, leaving Beckyann staring at the pouch in her hand, a half-smile on her face.

Perhaps it was not all in vain after all.