The headaches were growing worse. Myzzi and I tried to research what could be causing them. It didn't take us long to figure out it was tied to whatever happened the morning I couldn't remember, the first day I was ill.
I noticed my memory wasn't as good as it had been before, either. Myzzi says I was starting to forget things, even little things, that were unusual. Trying to think back more than a few days was a strain, and having an accidental "blurt" triggered a massive spike of pain.
No one really noticed to slight increase in misfiled papers, forgotten deliveries, or little accidents around the office.
Time and again, I went to the Clinic in Orgrimmar, wondering if I dared seek any help. At last I did, speaking to one of the doctors there, Knowles. They tried to diagnose the problem, and came back with news: I was tainted with fel magic.
Monday, June 16, 2014
Friday, June 13, 2014
Yet More Backstory - Running Away
It gets even harder from here to remember what happened. What I know comes mostly from Myzzi, and strangely enough, the bossgnome.
And of course Renzly Silvertip, for whatever little help she's been.
I used the excuse of being ill for as long as I could to avoid seeing anyone except Myzzi. The initial waves of headaches faded, though I continued to complain of them now and then, especially when Nozzel was around.
And of course Renzly Silvertip, for whatever little help she's been.
I used the excuse of being ill for as long as I could to avoid seeing anyone except Myzzi. The initial waves of headaches faded, though I continued to complain of them now and then, especially when Nozzel was around.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Yet More Backstory - A Bad Party
The party was a disaster.
I was nervous and fidgeting all afternoon and into the evening, picking at the hem of my dress whenever Ma wasn't looking. Nozzel was waiting for me at when I finally arrived at the main hall to escort me to where our guests were waiting.
He smiled at me, graciously holding out a hand. "You look lovely, Kezrin."
Blinding pain nearly crippled me at the sound of his voice.
I was nervous and fidgeting all afternoon and into the evening, picking at the hem of my dress whenever Ma wasn't looking. Nozzel was waiting for me at when I finally arrived at the main hall to escort me to where our guests were waiting.
He smiled at me, graciously holding out a hand. "You look lovely, Kezrin."
Blinding pain nearly crippled me at the sound of his voice.
Friday, June 6, 2014
Yet More Backstory - The Missing Morning
Everything from here on forward... I'm not very certain about.
Sometimes, I feel as if I have two sets of memories. One that's easy to remember, and another one that's like trying to pick out details in polluted water, while fighting against a current. In a lot of ways, it's easier just to be swept along the current and remember the things that come naturally.
By the easy way to remember things, my next memory is waking up more than year later, in Orgrimmar, surrounded by Myzzi and bunch of strangers.
But if I fight the current, I can remember waking up that afternoon, in my bed, in a state of panic I couldn't account for.
And if I fight even harder, then I know the truth: I woke up early that morning, just before dawn, to the sounds of the first birds chirping outside my window.
Sometimes, I feel as if I have two sets of memories. One that's easy to remember, and another one that's like trying to pick out details in polluted water, while fighting against a current. In a lot of ways, it's easier just to be swept along the current and remember the things that come naturally.
By the easy way to remember things, my next memory is waking up more than year later, in Orgrimmar, surrounded by Myzzi and bunch of strangers.
But if I fight the current, I can remember waking up that afternoon, in my bed, in a state of panic I couldn't account for.
And if I fight even harder, then I know the truth: I woke up early that morning, just before dawn, to the sounds of the first birds chirping outside my window.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Yet More Backstory - The Arrangement
"Nostril Face."
"Frog Face."
"Nostril Face."
"Frog Face!"
"But his name sounds like Nostril," I argued.
"Yeah, but everyone has nostrils. Not everyone has a frog face," Myzzi countered.
"Fine, you call him Frog Face, and I'll call him Nostril Face. As long as we know whom we mean."
That seemed to temporarily satisfy Myzzi.
"Frog Face."
"Nostril Face."
"Frog Face!"
"But his name sounds like Nostril," I argued.
"Yeah, but everyone has nostrils. Not everyone has a frog face," Myzzi countered.
"Fine, you call him Frog Face, and I'll call him Nostril Face. As long as we know whom we mean."
That seemed to temporarily satisfy Myzzi.
Monday, June 2, 2014
Yet More Backstory - Back Home
Ma was ecstatic. She immediately began making plans to impress the Waxworths, dragging me into it every step she could, particularly since she didn't have her usual staff to help out.
Friday, May 30, 2014
Yet More Backstory - Business Lunch
The business lunch the next day was just myself, Pop, and Nozzel. Nozzel's advisor- the one who'd accompanied him the day before, with the silver-tipped cane (I can remember more!) - was unable to come.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Yet More Backstory - After the Destruction
Kezrin continues her writing.
Fortunately for us, we didn't live on Kezan or any of the places that got demolished. Brasswright's a bit smaller and farther out. Unfortunately, a lot of Pop's suppliers did.
The costs of everything was going up. Pop was extra busy managing the company and trying to cut costs wherever he could. Our tutors got dismissed, almost all the household staff went away. Everyone was tense, though it did have one upside: Ma stopped holding her socials.
Even after the initial wave of destruction, things continued to go downhill. Investors were starting to withdraw their support. Several of our shipments went missing. It was accident after accident.
I was silly enough one day to ask Pop if there was anything I could do to help. I wasn't completely incompetent, after all. He went silent for a few minutes, and then asked if I would be willing to go on his next business trip with him.
"Cheaper than keeping my current secretary," he said.
The trip was to renegotiate prices with one of our vendors. Pop gave me firm instructions just to stay in the background, be quiet, and take notes. For the first couple of days, everything went well, but then the Waxworths arrived.
Pop hated Gilbin Waxworth. They'd been rivals since forever. He was scowling when he heard that the Waxworth CEO was in town. However, it wasn't Gilbin. It was his son, Nozzel Waxworth and his advisor. Gilbin had become ill just before the Cataclysm, so Nozzel was now in charge.
He immediately greeted my father like a lost friend. "We need to stick together in rough times," he said. He was gracious and polite, with an easy smile that almost made up for the ridiculousness of his extra-large nose. As he shook my father's hand, patted him on shoulder, I could hear my mother's voice echoing in my head.
"Lean in close. Use light contact. Compliment them."
Nozzel frowned and looked at me for the first time; I threw my hands over my mouth before I could blurt anything else out. My father was scowling as deeply as I'd ever seen.
"Well," Nozzel said slowly. "This must be your daughter... Ah, you're right! Kezrin!"
I numbly nodded.
"You're very perceptive!" he laughed at me and held out his hand. I hesitantly took it.
Both of his hands held mine, pulling me in slightly close with a conspiratorial stage whisper. "I appreciate a woman bright enough to know a master at work, even if she's calling me out on my secrets!" He grinned. So very close, I could see that the smile didn't quite seem right, and yet... it was the first time I hadn't been yelled at for saying something wrong.
"Lovely girl, you've got, Goldwick!"
"T-thank you... I think?" I looked at Pop, but his glare had been replaced by something akin to relief. Before I knew what was happening, Pop and Nozzel were making plans for a business lunch the next day. Pop, Nozzel, Me, and...
Bother. I know there was someone else. It's part of the curse. I can remember the meeting, and it's a if there's the occasional line of dialogue simply missing. Almost there in my head, but I can't reach it. I know the next day, Nozzel apologized for his friend not showing up, after all, and-
That's right. I know who it was. That day was the first time I met the Cane Guy.
The warlock who cursed my life.
Fortunately for us, we didn't live on Kezan or any of the places that got demolished. Brasswright's a bit smaller and farther out. Unfortunately, a lot of Pop's suppliers did.
The costs of everything was going up. Pop was extra busy managing the company and trying to cut costs wherever he could. Our tutors got dismissed, almost all the household staff went away. Everyone was tense, though it did have one upside: Ma stopped holding her socials.
Even after the initial wave of destruction, things continued to go downhill. Investors were starting to withdraw their support. Several of our shipments went missing. It was accident after accident.
I was silly enough one day to ask Pop if there was anything I could do to help. I wasn't completely incompetent, after all. He went silent for a few minutes, and then asked if I would be willing to go on his next business trip with him.
"Cheaper than keeping my current secretary," he said.
The trip was to renegotiate prices with one of our vendors. Pop gave me firm instructions just to stay in the background, be quiet, and take notes. For the first couple of days, everything went well, but then the Waxworths arrived.
Pop hated Gilbin Waxworth. They'd been rivals since forever. He was scowling when he heard that the Waxworth CEO was in town. However, it wasn't Gilbin. It was his son, Nozzel Waxworth and his advisor. Gilbin had become ill just before the Cataclysm, so Nozzel was now in charge.
He immediately greeted my father like a lost friend. "We need to stick together in rough times," he said. He was gracious and polite, with an easy smile that almost made up for the ridiculousness of his extra-large nose. As he shook my father's hand, patted him on shoulder, I could hear my mother's voice echoing in my head.
"Lean in close. Use light contact. Compliment them."
Nozzel frowned and looked at me for the first time; I threw my hands over my mouth before I could blurt anything else out. My father was scowling as deeply as I'd ever seen.
"Well," Nozzel said slowly. "This must be your daughter... Ah, you're right! Kezrin!"
I numbly nodded.
"You're very perceptive!" he laughed at me and held out his hand. I hesitantly took it.
Both of his hands held mine, pulling me in slightly close with a conspiratorial stage whisper. "I appreciate a woman bright enough to know a master at work, even if she's calling me out on my secrets!" He grinned. So very close, I could see that the smile didn't quite seem right, and yet... it was the first time I hadn't been yelled at for saying something wrong.
"Lovely girl, you've got, Goldwick!"
"T-thank you... I think?" I looked at Pop, but his glare had been replaced by something akin to relief. Before I knew what was happening, Pop and Nozzel were making plans for a business lunch the next day. Pop, Nozzel, Me, and...
Bother. I know there was someone else. It's part of the curse. I can remember the meeting, and it's a if there's the occasional line of dialogue simply missing. Almost there in my head, but I can't reach it. I know the next day, Nozzel apologized for his friend not showing up, after all, and-
That's right. I know who it was. That day was the first time I met the Cane Guy.
The warlock who cursed my life.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Yet More Backstory
Things had returned to what constituted normalcy. The gut wrenching
feeling hadn’t gone away, but there were days when it was possible to
forget it.
Forget.
Did she want to? No new memories were coming forth; Kezrin had only Renzly’s word to assure her, the word of a thief and a liar.
The little book was covered in a soft dark leather. Hesitantly, Kezrin placed her pen at the top corner, writing the date in a precise, even hand writing. She had despised journals in the past, as her memory had been near perfect before the warlock’s curse. Now it was suspect and unreliable. If she ever had a relapse… she couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting her friends again. She would record everything, and keep the book someplace safe. The rather sparse journal she’d kept just before her memory loss was a painful reminder of just how easily everything could be lost.
She started writing.
Forget.
Did she want to? No new memories were coming forth; Kezrin had only Renzly’s word to assure her, the word of a thief and a liar.
The little book was covered in a soft dark leather. Hesitantly, Kezrin placed her pen at the top corner, writing the date in a precise, even hand writing. She had despised journals in the past, as her memory had been near perfect before the warlock’s curse. Now it was suspect and unreliable. If she ever had a relapse… she couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting her friends again. She would record everything, and keep the book someplace safe. The rather sparse journal she’d kept just before her memory loss was a painful reminder of just how easily everything could be lost.
She started writing.
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Avoidance
It was the sharp thunk of a metal-tipped
cane hitting the floorboards of her room that woke Renzly from a
restless sleep. She automatically reached for her dagger, but her
muscles screamed in protest and didn’t budge. She was kept immobile in
her bed, save for her ability to tilt her head upward to see her
visitor. The morning light barely creeping through the slits in her
window provided dim illumination.
Zenik Silvertip stood a few feet away, resting his hands in a tight grip around the top of his black and silver cane, an expression of cold fury pouring at her. Tarnik, the imp who usually served as his messenger, fidgeted behind him. Whatever had brought the warlock here today was apparently important enough to come in person.
“Good morning, daughter. Sleep well?” His eyes roamed around the sparse, but comfortable room. “You’ve done well with the allowance I give you, I see.”
“Whaddaya want?”
“Impertinent girl. I’m here because you’ve lied to me for the last time.” He leaned in close to her. “I know you let the Goldwick girl live.”
Her eyes widen; the magical bonds holding her in place inflicted sharp pain to keep her still.
He waves his cane in the air. “I specifically ordered you to kill her, girl!” his voice slowly grew in anger. The cane slammed into the floor with another sharp thwack. Zenik sighed, closing his eyes and holding a few fingers to his temple with a wince. “And now, look at what you’ve done.”
Renzly frowned in confusion; she had absolutely no idea what could have happened, but it was rare that her father was livid enough to come rebuke her in person. Somehow, though, something had happened to draw his attention to Goldie again after so much time had passed without comment. She hadn’t seen Kezrin in months.
“You and your mother… both of you… disappointments,” he continued his tirade. “Why have I been wasting my moolah on such incompetents? Do you hear me? I’m cutting off my funds to you. If you can’t do a simple job right, you’re useless. Completely useless. Let’s see how long you like living without my money. You can be a petty thief if you want to eat.”
He smiled maliciously at her. “And if you ever think about betraying me again, just remember this little gift.”
He snapped his fingers, a tiny ball of fel flame appearing in the air. It drifted toward her and landed on the exposed skin of her hand, burning her skin. The pain shot through her arm, spreading to her chest and the rest of her body until she felt as though her blood were boiling on the inside.
She screamed and tried to writhe in agony, the pain of the magical bonds inconsequential to her father’s “gift.” Ages passed before she was blessed with the oblivion of unconsciousness.
When she awoke, her father and Tarnik were gone. There was no sign of their presence, save her aching body and the burn mark on the back of her hand.
But… Goldie. He knew she was alive. Renzly forced herself to out of bed and stand on her shaking legs. She would recover.
It was a bit of a trip to travel all the way to Caer Darrow, the last place she’d known Kezrin was living with her sister. It was made more difficult by the discovery that her accounts with her bank had somehow been emptied and closed without her permission, but she had enough coin on hand to pay for the boat passage. She watched the comings and goings of the AAMS office, but saw no sign of either white haired goblin.
A little bit of discreet questioning informed her that something odd had happened to the Kanzelry sisters and that they were on medical leave in Hearthglen.
Hearthglen! Renzly inwardly groaned. That was not a place to idly skulk about in. Nor could she openly visit, if Myzzi were with her. And a medical leave? Had Goldie been hurt? Had her father gotten to them? She had to content herself with leaving a note for Kezrin. She didn’t sign it on the off chance Myzzi saw it, counting on Kezrin to understand whom it was from.
She never received any answer.
It was a few weeks later when she saw the flash of a white uniform in Undercity and recognized Goldie with a jolt. Renzly waited until after she’d finished her delivery to some shop and stood outside to intercept her in the street.
“Hey,” she called out as Goldie walked by.
Kezrin’s steps slowed to a halt and she gave Renzly a puzzled, wary look. “‘Scuse me, I’m runnin’ late. Unless ya need somethin’ delivered?”
“No…” Renzly flinched at her impersonal tone.
“Right, gotta go, then. Sorry!” She hurried off without a second glance.
Renzly stared after her in shock. She’d been snubbed.
If that was how Goldie wanted to treat her, then fine. They had a deal to avoid each other.
It wasn’t as if she had ever cared for her, anyway...
Zenik Silvertip stood a few feet away, resting his hands in a tight grip around the top of his black and silver cane, an expression of cold fury pouring at her. Tarnik, the imp who usually served as his messenger, fidgeted behind him. Whatever had brought the warlock here today was apparently important enough to come in person.
“Good morning, daughter. Sleep well?” His eyes roamed around the sparse, but comfortable room. “You’ve done well with the allowance I give you, I see.”
“Whaddaya want?”
“Impertinent girl. I’m here because you’ve lied to me for the last time.” He leaned in close to her. “I know you let the Goldwick girl live.”
Her eyes widen; the magical bonds holding her in place inflicted sharp pain to keep her still.
He waves his cane in the air. “I specifically ordered you to kill her, girl!” his voice slowly grew in anger. The cane slammed into the floor with another sharp thwack. Zenik sighed, closing his eyes and holding a few fingers to his temple with a wince. “And now, look at what you’ve done.”
Renzly frowned in confusion; she had absolutely no idea what could have happened, but it was rare that her father was livid enough to come rebuke her in person. Somehow, though, something had happened to draw his attention to Goldie again after so much time had passed without comment. She hadn’t seen Kezrin in months.
“You and your mother… both of you… disappointments,” he continued his tirade. “Why have I been wasting my moolah on such incompetents? Do you hear me? I’m cutting off my funds to you. If you can’t do a simple job right, you’re useless. Completely useless. Let’s see how long you like living without my money. You can be a petty thief if you want to eat.”
He smiled maliciously at her. “And if you ever think about betraying me again, just remember this little gift.”
He snapped his fingers, a tiny ball of fel flame appearing in the air. It drifted toward her and landed on the exposed skin of her hand, burning her skin. The pain shot through her arm, spreading to her chest and the rest of her body until she felt as though her blood were boiling on the inside.
She screamed and tried to writhe in agony, the pain of the magical bonds inconsequential to her father’s “gift.” Ages passed before she was blessed with the oblivion of unconsciousness.
When she awoke, her father and Tarnik were gone. There was no sign of their presence, save her aching body and the burn mark on the back of her hand.
But… Goldie. He knew she was alive. Renzly forced herself to out of bed and stand on her shaking legs. She would recover.
It was a bit of a trip to travel all the way to Caer Darrow, the last place she’d known Kezrin was living with her sister. It was made more difficult by the discovery that her accounts with her bank had somehow been emptied and closed without her permission, but she had enough coin on hand to pay for the boat passage. She watched the comings and goings of the AAMS office, but saw no sign of either white haired goblin.
A little bit of discreet questioning informed her that something odd had happened to the Kanzelry sisters and that they were on medical leave in Hearthglen.
Hearthglen! Renzly inwardly groaned. That was not a place to idly skulk about in. Nor could she openly visit, if Myzzi were with her. And a medical leave? Had Goldie been hurt? Had her father gotten to them? She had to content herself with leaving a note for Kezrin. She didn’t sign it on the off chance Myzzi saw it, counting on Kezrin to understand whom it was from.
She never received any answer.
It was a few weeks later when she saw the flash of a white uniform in Undercity and recognized Goldie with a jolt. Renzly waited until after she’d finished her delivery to some shop and stood outside to intercept her in the street.
“Hey,” she called out as Goldie walked by.
Kezrin’s steps slowed to a halt and she gave Renzly a puzzled, wary look. “‘Scuse me, I’m runnin’ late. Unless ya need somethin’ delivered?”
“No…” Renzly flinched at her impersonal tone.
“Right, gotta go, then. Sorry!” She hurried off without a second glance.
Renzly stared after her in shock. She’d been snubbed.
If that was how Goldie wanted to treat her, then fine. They had a deal to avoid each other.
It wasn’t as if she had ever cared for her, anyway...
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Avoidance
It was the first time Renzly had ever
bothered to knock on her door. Kezrin was willing to allow her a bit of
leeway in return and let the rogue inside.
“You’ve packed up,” Renzly noted quietly. She set a small bag by the door.
“I’m movin’. I’m not gonna stay here anymore.”
“Where ya goin’?”
“I got a job. That’s all I’m gonna say.”
“Fair ’nuff.” Renzly took her favorite perch on the edge of the now empty desk. “I just wanted… ta say… well… ” She sighed. “Ya hear from Myzzi?”
“Yeah. She’s fine. Gonna meet up with her soon.”
“Oh. Good, I guess. Ya gonna be careful, right? Keep a low profile?”
“Don’t worry. Gonna be doin’ office work, mostly. I ain’t gonna get you in trouble.”
“It’s ‘bout keepin’ you safe as well!”
“Yeah, safe from people like you!”
“Fine. I was hired ta kill ya. But I didn’t. Doesn’t that mean anythin’?” There was faint pleading note to the question.
“Yeah? And what if I couldn’t do all your translatin’? Would ya have killed me, then?” Kezrin shook her head. “You’re just.. just like Waxworth, only carin’ ‘bout what good I can do for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Renzly shot back. “Well, that’s the way of the world, Kez. People look out for themselves first. They can try and hide it with all sorts of fancy talk, but in the end, it’s always the truth. It’s kill or be killed.”
Kezrin flinched at her words, hugging her arms against her chest. “I don’t want… to be a killer, Renzly. I don’t want to be like you.”
She paced a few times around the room. “I can’t take this anymore! I don’t want this ta be the kind of life Myzzi comes ta… living in the slums, always watchin’ over our shoulder, worried ‘bout how ta… how ta… hide bodies.” She shook her head. “I have ta protect her from gettin’ hurt.”
Renzly looked at her skeptically. “You’re gonna to protect her from bein’ hurt. Right. I get it.” She shook her head. “Fine. Do whatever ya think is good for her. I’ve done my best ta make sure they’re lookin’ in the wrong places,” she offered. “So ya know.”
Kezrin nodded slowly, raising a hand to her temple. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Still gettin’ headaches?”
“Every now and then. I’ll manage.”
“Could just be stress.”
“Maybe. Everything’s been so messed up lately. I sorta wish I could just forget everything that’s happened and just… be happy again.”
“Everything? Ya weren’t ever happy? At all?”
“No. In fact…” Kezrin looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry, Renzly, but I’d rather ya not come around anymore.”
“Waddaya mean, not come around?”
“I don’t want ya near Myzzi. I don’t want her to have anythin’ ta do with any of this. And I ain’t doin’ any more work for you.”
“Ya know I could turn you in, still.”
“But ya ain’t,” Kezrin pointed out. “‘Cause it would get you in hot water, too. Said so yourself.”
“I could figure out a way ‘round that, trust me,” Renzly warned her.
She looked up. “But I also got your box, remember?”
Renzly jerked as if hit, fingers automatically moving to her daggers, though she didn’t draw. “Where is it?”
“Someplace safe.” Kezrin took a breath. “So I’m proposin’ a new deal. I’ll keep keepin’ it safe, and ya stay out of Myzzi’s… and my… lives.” Kezrin’s voice shook, but she didn’t back down from Renzly’s hard stare.
“And what if I need it back? That’s my box, ya know.”
“If ya really need it, I’m sure ya can find a way ta contact me withou’ endangerin’ Myzzi.”
“I see.” There was a pause as Renzly considered the offer. “You’re not really good at makin’ deals, ya know,” she finally conceded.
“Good thing I’m not runnin’ the family business, then.”
“Oh, right… almost forgot.” Renzly moved the bag she’d brought to the desk. “You, ah, left these behind the last time I saw ya.” She set out the items: a few candles, a book, the comb for Myzzi. “I hope ya still want them.”
Kezrin picked up the pink and white candle. She stared at the thoughtfully before holding it out to Renzly. “Here. This one was for ya. Merry Late Winter’s Veil.”
“Even though ya don’t want me ‘round anymore?” Renzly asked, surprised.
“I bought it for ya, you’re gonna take it.”
She shoved the candle into Renzly’s hands. They stood silently; Kezrin wasn’t sure there was anything else to say. At last, Renzly nodded to the door.
“Right… see ya ‘round I guess. Or not.”
“Goodbye, Ren.”
“Bye, Goldie.”
Renzly slipped out the door, and Kezrin bolted it shut.
“You’ve packed up,” Renzly noted quietly. She set a small bag by the door.
“I’m movin’. I’m not gonna stay here anymore.”
“Where ya goin’?”
“I got a job. That’s all I’m gonna say.”
“Fair ’nuff.” Renzly took her favorite perch on the edge of the now empty desk. “I just wanted… ta say… well… ” She sighed. “Ya hear from Myzzi?”
“Yeah. She’s fine. Gonna meet up with her soon.”
“Oh. Good, I guess. Ya gonna be careful, right? Keep a low profile?”
“Don’t worry. Gonna be doin’ office work, mostly. I ain’t gonna get you in trouble.”
“It’s ‘bout keepin’ you safe as well!”
“Yeah, safe from people like you!”
“Fine. I was hired ta kill ya. But I didn’t. Doesn’t that mean anythin’?” There was faint pleading note to the question.
“Yeah? And what if I couldn’t do all your translatin’? Would ya have killed me, then?” Kezrin shook her head. “You’re just.. just like Waxworth, only carin’ ‘bout what good I can do for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Renzly shot back. “Well, that’s the way of the world, Kez. People look out for themselves first. They can try and hide it with all sorts of fancy talk, but in the end, it’s always the truth. It’s kill or be killed.”
Kezrin flinched at her words, hugging her arms against her chest. “I don’t want… to be a killer, Renzly. I don’t want to be like you.”
She paced a few times around the room. “I can’t take this anymore! I don’t want this ta be the kind of life Myzzi comes ta… living in the slums, always watchin’ over our shoulder, worried ‘bout how ta… how ta… hide bodies.” She shook her head. “I have ta protect her from gettin’ hurt.”
Renzly looked at her skeptically. “You’re gonna to protect her from bein’ hurt. Right. I get it.” She shook her head. “Fine. Do whatever ya think is good for her. I’ve done my best ta make sure they’re lookin’ in the wrong places,” she offered. “So ya know.”
Kezrin nodded slowly, raising a hand to her temple. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Still gettin’ headaches?”
“Every now and then. I’ll manage.”
“Could just be stress.”
“Maybe. Everything’s been so messed up lately. I sorta wish I could just forget everything that’s happened and just… be happy again.”
“Everything? Ya weren’t ever happy? At all?”
“No. In fact…” Kezrin looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry, Renzly, but I’d rather ya not come around anymore.”
“Waddaya mean, not come around?”
“I don’t want ya near Myzzi. I don’t want her to have anythin’ ta do with any of this. And I ain’t doin’ any more work for you.”
“Ya know I could turn you in, still.”
“But ya ain’t,” Kezrin pointed out. “‘Cause it would get you in hot water, too. Said so yourself.”
“I could figure out a way ‘round that, trust me,” Renzly warned her.
She looked up. “But I also got your box, remember?”
Renzly jerked as if hit, fingers automatically moving to her daggers, though she didn’t draw. “Where is it?”
“Someplace safe.” Kezrin took a breath. “So I’m proposin’ a new deal. I’ll keep keepin’ it safe, and ya stay out of Myzzi’s… and my… lives.” Kezrin’s voice shook, but she didn’t back down from Renzly’s hard stare.
“And what if I need it back? That’s my box, ya know.”
“If ya really need it, I’m sure ya can find a way ta contact me withou’ endangerin’ Myzzi.”
“I see.” There was a pause as Renzly considered the offer. “You’re not really good at makin’ deals, ya know,” she finally conceded.
“Good thing I’m not runnin’ the family business, then.”
“Oh, right… almost forgot.” Renzly moved the bag she’d brought to the desk. “You, ah, left these behind the last time I saw ya.” She set out the items: a few candles, a book, the comb for Myzzi. “I hope ya still want them.”
Kezrin picked up the pink and white candle. She stared at the thoughtfully before holding it out to Renzly. “Here. This one was for ya. Merry Late Winter’s Veil.”
“Even though ya don’t want me ‘round anymore?” Renzly asked, surprised.
“I bought it for ya, you’re gonna take it.”
She shoved the candle into Renzly’s hands. They stood silently; Kezrin wasn’t sure there was anything else to say. At last, Renzly nodded to the door.
“Right… see ya ‘round I guess. Or not.”
“Goodbye, Ren.”
“Bye, Goldie.”
Renzly slipped out the door, and Kezrin bolted it shut.
Monday, May 19, 2014
There is no glory in being an alto
Why do altos always seem to get stuck with all the crummy parts?
One or two or three delightful notes that we call the counterpart?"
-The opening lines from William Bowlus's Alto's Lament, one of two songs I learned in high school about how much altos suck.
Let me tell you a truth from high school chorus: everyone wants to be a soprano.
One or two or three delightful notes that we call the counterpart?"
-The opening lines from William Bowlus's Alto's Lament, one of two songs I learned in high school about how much altos suck.
Let me tell you a truth from high school chorus: everyone wants to be a soprano.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Avoidance
Things had returned to what constituted normalcy. The gut wrenching
feeling hadn't gone away, but there were days when it was possible to
forget it.
Forget.
Did she want to? No new memories were coming forth; Kezrin had only Renzly's word to assure her, the word of a thief and a liar.
The little book was covered in a soft dark leather. Hesitantly, Kezrin placed her pen at the top corner, writing the date in a precise, even hand writing. She had despised journals in the past, as her memory had been near perfect before the warlock's curse. Now it was suspect, unreliable. If she ever had a relapse... she couldn't bear the thought of forgetting her friends again. She would record everything, and keep the book someplace safe.
She started writing.
My name is Kezrin Kanzelry, once Kezrin Goldwick. I work for the AAMS. I'm not entirely sure how it happened, except that one night day I woke up in Orgrimmar surrounded by the strangest people and no recollection of how I got there...
Kezrin took a deep breath and continued walking, clutching their bag of gifts closely. She could not tell if anyone were following her. After several minutes, she glanced around and didn't notice anyone on the street near her. "Ren?"
No answer. Concerned, she changed directions, heading back to where she'd last seen Renzly, warily watching for anyone. There was a scuffling noise from one of the alleys.
"Who sent ya?" The voice was faint, but she recognized it as Renzly's and crept closer.
"No one, I tells ya!" A panicked male voice replied...strangely enough, one that also sounded familiar.
"I don't really believe ya."
Renzly was holding a goblin pinned against the wall, her dagger pressed against his throat, keeping him in place despite being a whole head shorter than he. A long trickle of blood was dripping from a fresh gash on his cheek.
His eyes widened. "Kezrin! Tell her you know me!"
"Axelhammer?" Kezrin stared in disbelief, dropping the bag of gifts.
Renzly cursed. “Now we really can’t let him go.”
“What do you mean?” Kezrin asked with growing horror.
Axelhammer futilely tried to press closer to the wall. “Tell her to let me go, please…”
“I’m mean, it’s him or us, Goldie,” Renzly hissed. “And just how quickly it’s going to be depends on whether he tells me how many people know you’re here.”
“No one! Just me! I swear!”
“Renzly! Stop! You don’t have to do this!”
“He’s a threat. He was following us.”
Axelhammer whimpered. “I just wanted to see if it was really her… I was worried…”
Kezrin’s eyes darted between the two. “Please, Renzly, he’s not… a threat…”
“Oh, yeah?” Renzly turned to glare at her. “Then why was he hidin’? He ain’t no average joe. He was followin’ us and waitin’ for ya to be alone! We let him go, and it’s bad news for both of us! He’ll go back ta Waxworth, and when they find out I didn’t kill ya, it ain’t jus’ my job I’m gonna lose-”
The sudden silence as Renzly realized what she’d just said hit nearly as hard as the words themselves.
“You work for him?” Kezrin repeated dumbly. “All this time… when ya wouldn’t tell me what ya were doing…”
“It’s not… quite like...” Renzly’s hold on her prisoner loosened a fraction.
Axelhammer’s arm snapped up at the arm holding the dagger; Renzly went stumbling backwards as he used the wall as a brace to push her off. Axelhammer twisted her wrist. The dagger clattered on the pavement.
Kezrin… wasn’t sure what happened next. The two grappled in the alley; Axelhammer seemed to tower over the tiny rogue. They tumbled to the ground, Axelhammer pinning her down. His fists raised into the air, landing with sick, wet thwacks.
“No!” Kezrin threw herself on Axelhammer’s back, pulling at him. Renzly wasn’t moving. He shrugged her off; she landed with a thud on the pavement. Axelhammer stood and loomed over her. The line of blood from his neck and cheek now reached the collar of his shirt. He took a step closer.
“C’mon, you’re comin’ with me.”
Quickly, she slid backwards, the small stone pebbles of the pavement cutting into her palms. The too familiar sense of being closed in wrapped around her throat. She bumped into something small and hard. Her right fingers clasped around the leather-wrapped hilt without conscious thought.
He grabbed her arm left, attempting to pull her to her feet. She refused to move, looking back at Renzly, who still hadn’t stirred.
“Let me go! I hafta check on-”
“Get up, you brat!” Axelhammer was leaning close enough that she could smell his breath, a mix of alcohol and something sweet. He jerked on her arm again, hard enough to lift her whether she wanted to move or not.
Darkness clouded her vision even as the pain cut through her temple. Her chest felt constricted, it was difficult to breath… a faint impish chattering rang in her ear, half-remembered… and Renzly, she couldn’t leave Renzly...
The dagger was buried in his chest before Kezrin realized she’d swung her arm up.
His eyes widened in surprise, looking straight into hers. He took a stuttering step back and released his grip. Dark red seeped across his shirt. With agonizing slowness he grasped at the alley wall for support, sliding down to his knees. Staring at her in shocked accusation.
“I-I’m.. I’m…” She couldn't think of what to say. Her knees shook. The urge to bolt, to run, to flee surged through her, but there was still Renzly. Renzly needed her help.
Thankfully, her feet understood what to do without her telling them, bringing her to Renzly’s side. The rogue was still breathing, though her face was a bloody, battered mess. She made a soft grunting noise as Kezrin knelt down next to her.
“Goldie?” Renzly looked around in confusion.
“Ren, I’m here. Please, please, please be all right…”
“I’m gonna… be fine…” Renzly experimentally raised a hand to her face with a wince. “Been in worse fights, I think. Where’s the thug?” She snapped to being completely alert. “Goldie! Ya okay? Ya hurt?” Bloodied fingers grabbed at Kezrin’s sleeve.
“I think.. I think… Renzly, please help him.” Kezrin fretfully pointed over toward the slumped over Axelhammer.
Renzly frowned at Kezrin, but shook her head. She dutifully went over to examine him, kneeling beside the now still goblin.
“Goldie, he’s dead.” She reached out and yanked the dagger free, wiping the blade on Axelhammer’s shirt. The blade was returned to its sheath. She looked curiously at her. “You did this?”
“H-he was attacking you… and then…then I...” Her shoulders shook at the enormity of what had happened.
Renzly nodded matter of factly. “Told you, him or us.”
Then she started rummaging through his pockets.
“What… what are you doing?”
“Takin’ his stuff,” Renzly answered promptly. “We can’t hide the body. Take his stuff, and the bruisers’ll assume it was just another robbery gone bad. Less likely ta have people askin’ awkward questions.”
“How can ya be thinkin’ things like that?”
Axelhammer was dead. She had killed him, and Renzly was as calm as if she’d just spilled milk.
“Because it’s necessary. It’s what I do. What has ta be done.” She looked up from her work. “The first time I met ya, I killed those two thugs, remember?”
“Yeah, but…” A surge of anger interrupted her thoughts. “It wasn’t a coincidence, was it? Ya were followin’ me! The whole time!”
“Yeah, and I couldn’t let ‘em get to ya first, so I had ta take ‘em out. And keep quiet, would ya? We need ta get out of here without attractin’ any more attention.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere with you. I can’t believe I just… just… goodbye, Renzly!” Kezrin stalked off toward the street.
“Goldie, wait…!”
She spun around and pointed a shaking finger at her. “If we were friends, ever really friends, for even just a minute… you’ll stay away from me!”
Kezrin ran out of the alley, shopping bags forgotten in her rush.
Renzly didn’t follow.
Forget.
Did she want to? No new memories were coming forth; Kezrin had only Renzly's word to assure her, the word of a thief and a liar.
The little book was covered in a soft dark leather. Hesitantly, Kezrin placed her pen at the top corner, writing the date in a precise, even hand writing. She had despised journals in the past, as her memory had been near perfect before the warlock's curse. Now it was suspect, unreliable. If she ever had a relapse... she couldn't bear the thought of forgetting her friends again. She would record everything, and keep the book someplace safe.
She started writing.
My name is Kezrin Kanzelry, once Kezrin Goldwick. I work for the AAMS. I'm not entirely sure how it happened, except that one night day I woke up in Orgrimmar surrounded by the strangest people and no recollection of how I got there...
Kezrin took a deep breath and continued walking, clutching their bag of gifts closely. She could not tell if anyone were following her. After several minutes, she glanced around and didn't notice anyone on the street near her. "Ren?"
No answer. Concerned, she changed directions, heading back to where she'd last seen Renzly, warily watching for anyone. There was a scuffling noise from one of the alleys.
"Who sent ya?" The voice was faint, but she recognized it as Renzly's and crept closer.
"No one, I tells ya!" A panicked male voice replied...strangely enough, one that also sounded familiar.
"I don't really believe ya."
Renzly was holding a goblin pinned against the wall, her dagger pressed against his throat, keeping him in place despite being a whole head shorter than he. A long trickle of blood was dripping from a fresh gash on his cheek.
His eyes widened. "Kezrin! Tell her you know me!"
"Axelhammer?" Kezrin stared in disbelief, dropping the bag of gifts.
Renzly cursed. “Now we really can’t let him go.”
“What do you mean?” Kezrin asked with growing horror.
Axelhammer futilely tried to press closer to the wall. “Tell her to let me go, please…”
“I’m mean, it’s him or us, Goldie,” Renzly hissed. “And just how quickly it’s going to be depends on whether he tells me how many people know you’re here.”
“No one! Just me! I swear!”
“Renzly! Stop! You don’t have to do this!”
“He’s a threat. He was following us.”
Axelhammer whimpered. “I just wanted to see if it was really her… I was worried…”
Kezrin’s eyes darted between the two. “Please, Renzly, he’s not… a threat…”
“Oh, yeah?” Renzly turned to glare at her. “Then why was he hidin’? He ain’t no average joe. He was followin’ us and waitin’ for ya to be alone! We let him go, and it’s bad news for both of us! He’ll go back ta Waxworth, and when they find out I didn’t kill ya, it ain’t jus’ my job I’m gonna lose-”
The sudden silence as Renzly realized what she’d just said hit nearly as hard as the words themselves.
“You work for him?” Kezrin repeated dumbly. “All this time… when ya wouldn’t tell me what ya were doing…”
“It’s not… quite like...” Renzly’s hold on her prisoner loosened a fraction.
Axelhammer’s arm snapped up at the arm holding the dagger; Renzly went stumbling backwards as he used the wall as a brace to push her off. Axelhammer twisted her wrist. The dagger clattered on the pavement.
Kezrin… wasn’t sure what happened next. The two grappled in the alley; Axelhammer seemed to tower over the tiny rogue. They tumbled to the ground, Axelhammer pinning her down. His fists raised into the air, landing with sick, wet thwacks.
“No!” Kezrin threw herself on Axelhammer’s back, pulling at him. Renzly wasn’t moving. He shrugged her off; she landed with a thud on the pavement. Axelhammer stood and loomed over her. The line of blood from his neck and cheek now reached the collar of his shirt. He took a step closer.
“C’mon, you’re comin’ with me.”
Quickly, she slid backwards, the small stone pebbles of the pavement cutting into her palms. The too familiar sense of being closed in wrapped around her throat. She bumped into something small and hard. Her right fingers clasped around the leather-wrapped hilt without conscious thought.
He grabbed her arm left, attempting to pull her to her feet. She refused to move, looking back at Renzly, who still hadn’t stirred.
“Let me go! I hafta check on-”
“Get up, you brat!” Axelhammer was leaning close enough that she could smell his breath, a mix of alcohol and something sweet. He jerked on her arm again, hard enough to lift her whether she wanted to move or not.
Darkness clouded her vision even as the pain cut through her temple. Her chest felt constricted, it was difficult to breath… a faint impish chattering rang in her ear, half-remembered… and Renzly, she couldn’t leave Renzly...
The dagger was buried in his chest before Kezrin realized she’d swung her arm up.
His eyes widened in surprise, looking straight into hers. He took a stuttering step back and released his grip. Dark red seeped across his shirt. With agonizing slowness he grasped at the alley wall for support, sliding down to his knees. Staring at her in shocked accusation.
“I-I’m.. I’m…” She couldn't think of what to say. Her knees shook. The urge to bolt, to run, to flee surged through her, but there was still Renzly. Renzly needed her help.
Thankfully, her feet understood what to do without her telling them, bringing her to Renzly’s side. The rogue was still breathing, though her face was a bloody, battered mess. She made a soft grunting noise as Kezrin knelt down next to her.
“Goldie?” Renzly looked around in confusion.
“Ren, I’m here. Please, please, please be all right…”
“I’m gonna… be fine…” Renzly experimentally raised a hand to her face with a wince. “Been in worse fights, I think. Where’s the thug?” She snapped to being completely alert. “Goldie! Ya okay? Ya hurt?” Bloodied fingers grabbed at Kezrin’s sleeve.
“I think.. I think… Renzly, please help him.” Kezrin fretfully pointed over toward the slumped over Axelhammer.
Renzly frowned at Kezrin, but shook her head. She dutifully went over to examine him, kneeling beside the now still goblin.
“Goldie, he’s dead.” She reached out and yanked the dagger free, wiping the blade on Axelhammer’s shirt. The blade was returned to its sheath. She looked curiously at her. “You did this?”
“H-he was attacking you… and then…then I...” Her shoulders shook at the enormity of what had happened.
Renzly nodded matter of factly. “Told you, him or us.”
Then she started rummaging through his pockets.
“What… what are you doing?”
“Takin’ his stuff,” Renzly answered promptly. “We can’t hide the body. Take his stuff, and the bruisers’ll assume it was just another robbery gone bad. Less likely ta have people askin’ awkward questions.”
“How can ya be thinkin’ things like that?”
Axelhammer was dead. She had killed him, and Renzly was as calm as if she’d just spilled milk.
“Because it’s necessary. It’s what I do. What has ta be done.” She looked up from her work. “The first time I met ya, I killed those two thugs, remember?”
“Yeah, but…” A surge of anger interrupted her thoughts. “It wasn’t a coincidence, was it? Ya were followin’ me! The whole time!”
“Yeah, and I couldn’t let ‘em get to ya first, so I had ta take ‘em out. And keep quiet, would ya? We need ta get out of here without attractin’ any more attention.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere with you. I can’t believe I just… just… goodbye, Renzly!” Kezrin stalked off toward the street.
“Goldie, wait…!”
She spun around and pointed a shaking finger at her. “If we were friends, ever really friends, for even just a minute… you’ll stay away from me!”
Kezrin ran out of the alley, shopping bags forgotten in her rush.
Renzly didn’t follow.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Avoidance
Kezrin arrived first. She tapped her foot nervously. She was worried
that if she weren’t at the spot precisely on time, Renzly would leave.
Assuming she was even going to come.
It’d taken less effort than she thought to get in contact. Renzly wasn’t hiding; her coworkers had pointed out they’d seen her often enough at the Lounge, though only on nights when Kezrin herself wasn’t there. Solendenus had been willing to deliver a message. There’d been no reply.
It’d taken less effort than she thought to get in contact. Renzly wasn’t hiding; her coworkers had pointed out they’d seen her often enough at the Lounge, though only on nights when Kezrin herself wasn’t there. Solendenus had been willing to deliver a message. There’d been no reply.
Monday, May 12, 2014
I can't sing
For once, I don't mean that 'I feel I am an awful singer.'
In fact, last week I recorded a new piece of vocal music that I think sounds absolutely wonderful. I'm shocked at how much I like it, and continue to like it, days later. I was scared out of my mind when I was making it: it opens with me singing practically a capella (do drums count?). That's the equivalent of standing on stage in my underwear for me and liking the way I look. That's incredible.
What I mean right now is that my voice keeps shifting to this horrible raspy sound whenever I try to shift to an upper register.
In fact, last week I recorded a new piece of vocal music that I think sounds absolutely wonderful. I'm shocked at how much I like it, and continue to like it, days later. I was scared out of my mind when I was making it: it opens with me singing practically a capella (do drums count?). That's the equivalent of standing on stage in my underwear for me and liking the way I look. That's incredible.
What I mean right now is that my voice keeps shifting to this horrible raspy sound whenever I try to shift to an upper register.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Avoidance
Warlocks.
Kezrin wished she could just ban them all from the Lounge, but the AAMS was supposed to be welcoming to all as long as they didn't cause trouble. (She felt a brief pang remembering Gezelda.) However, just being within earshot of an imp made her twitchy, so Kezrin and Myzzi retreated to the small "island" made by Hardwrench's sign post and concentrated on enjoying the sunset.
Kezrin wished she could just ban them all from the Lounge, but the AAMS was supposed to be welcoming to all as long as they didn't cause trouble. (She felt a brief pang remembering Gezelda.) However, just being within earshot of an imp made her twitchy, so Kezrin and Myzzi retreated to the small "island" made by Hardwrench's sign post and concentrated on enjoying the sunset.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Avoidance
Kezrin was finally getting some sleep. The familiar routines of working
at Booty Bay helped diminish the snippets of nightmares that had been
plaguing her during her trip to Bilgewater Harbor. She should have
listened to that feeling of doom and never stepped foot inside the city.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Free Time
Well. I haven't made a post lately (not even the reposting of RP logs), but in my defense I've been really busy the past month moving to a new city.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Avoidance
When Kezrin finally made it back to her apartment, Renzly was waiting inside. Furious.
“Where have ya been?” she demanded. She was sitting on top of Kezrin’s work desk, a small metal box at her side.
Kezrin froze in surprise. “How’d ya get in here?”
Renzly glared back at the stupid question.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Avoidance
Kezrin always arrived first. Not that Renzly was particularly ever late, it was just that she liked to arrive early and find a table. They usually met at the same tavern on Bilgerat Street; the notice board provided a convenient way for them to leave a message if they needed to meet. It was filled with multiple advertisements and strange notes from other people using it for the same purpose. Kezrin had learned the tavern had a reputation for turning a blind eye to any strange dealings that happened in its walls.
She wasn’t sure she qualified as the same definition of “strange” as most would assume, but the table piled with small stacks of books was definitely unusual. They were in multiple languages, mostly Thalassian, and bore such titles as Runic Inscriptions and The Theoretical Versus Practical Application of Wards and Barriers.
“Heya, Goldie,” Renzly greeted as she walked up.
“Hey, Ren. How ya doin’?”
“Hey, not bad. Ya don’t sound so much like a prissy girl.”
“I’m tryin’.”
“Found some stuff this time?”
“Yeah.” Kezrin waved to the closest pile. “Some stuff that seemed like it might be what ya wanted- but like I told ya, I’m not a mage. Myzzi was better at pickin’ up this stuff than I was.”
“Tell me ‘bout it.” Renzly picked up the top book and flipped it open to a page diagramming a simple spell circle. She frowned and tossed it back on the pile. “Just lookin’ at the page gives me a headache. But I got somethin’ that might help ya.”
She slid into a chair and unfolded several pieces of paper. They were covered in a small, neat script with several diagrams along the side, much more complicated than the plain circle from the book.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Avoidance
Derscha was busy being her usual CEO self... leaving everyone else to do the work while she stayed out of the office. Still, she found time to leave a cracked, malfunctioning hearthstone and a letter for Brae on her desk.
The letter is sealed and addressed "For Miss Sunhawk's Eyes Only."
Brae,
I took the liberty of stopping by Miss Kanzelry's home to make sure she was not simply ill. She did not answer her door, but fortunately I just happened to have Commander Stoneheardt accompanying me.
She was not home at the time, though her house seem undisturbed. We found her hearthstone, however, so it will not be possible to trace her via that method.
I still hope that she is simply taking unapproved time off, but if you are searching for her, see if you can find out if there has been any recent activity from the Brasswright Cartel. Miss Kanzelry has asked me to keep her association with the cartel off of her official records due to her estrangement with her family.
Please keep me updated with any news,
Derscha
Friday, February 7, 2014
Avoidance
The tavern was a small place at the end of a
nearby street. A few heads turned their way when Renzly and Kezrin
entered, but no one showed them any real interest. They sat at a table
and Renzly ordered them some food before Kezrin could protest.
A small pain was growing in her temple, and she noticed her knees were shaking. Kezrin took a deep breath and willed herself to speak.
“I can’t pay for this.”
“I wouldn’t worry ’bout it.”
“I r-really should just go home,” Kezrin shook her head. “But thank you.”
“Nuh-uh.” A dagger appeared in Renzly’s hand, and she used it to wave Kezrin back into her seat. “Unless you really want to go home.”
She plopped back into the chair. “What do you mean by that?”
“Ya got a terrible poker face, we’ve got to work on that.” Renzly shook her head sorrowfully. “You’re lucky that there ain’t many folks from Brasswright in these parts, Goldwick.”
“I d-don’t…”
“See? Bad liar. You’re also lucky your family ain’t very keen on advertisin’ their daughter skippin’ out on her own weddin’. Prolly not too many people outside the cartel’s heard ‘bout the reward on your head.”
“I’m not going back,” Kezrin protested. “I-I can’t.”
“Gettin’ married that bad? Ain’t he rich?”
“He’s awful.” Kezrin fidgeted in her chair. “And I just know something bad is going to happen. I can feel it. Everytime he gets near, I feel like… like….”
She shrank in her chair, pulling her arms close. The trembling and the headache from earlier grew worse. “I’m not going back,” Kezrin repeated again, quietly.
Renzly shook her head, sheathing the dagger. “I got another idea, Goldie. Ya help me out, and I don’t tell your folks where you’re hidin’. We got a deal?”
“What?” she looked up in surprise. “You’d do that?”
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Renzly warned. “You’re more useful ta me here.”
“What can I do?”
She grinned slowly. “I know your type. Papa spent a bunch of moolah educatin’ ya, didn’t he? I need some research done, and I bet you’re just the one ta do it.”
“What sort of research?” Kezrin asked with some apprehension. “I barely have time to sleep.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout that. If you’re workin’ for me, I’ll set ya up with somethin’. But first, we got a deal?” She offered her hand. “Or should I go send a letter to Pop?”
Slowly, Kezrin reached out and shook it. “Deal.”
A small pain was growing in her temple, and she noticed her knees were shaking. Kezrin took a deep breath and willed herself to speak.
“I can’t pay for this.”
“I wouldn’t worry ’bout it.”
“I r-really should just go home,” Kezrin shook her head. “But thank you.”
“Nuh-uh.” A dagger appeared in Renzly’s hand, and she used it to wave Kezrin back into her seat. “Unless you really want to go home.”
She plopped back into the chair. “What do you mean by that?”
“Ya got a terrible poker face, we’ve got to work on that.” Renzly shook her head sorrowfully. “You’re lucky that there ain’t many folks from Brasswright in these parts, Goldwick.”
“I d-don’t…”
“See? Bad liar. You’re also lucky your family ain’t very keen on advertisin’ their daughter skippin’ out on her own weddin’. Prolly not too many people outside the cartel’s heard ‘bout the reward on your head.”
“I’m not going back,” Kezrin protested. “I-I can’t.”
“Gettin’ married that bad? Ain’t he rich?”
“He’s awful.” Kezrin fidgeted in her chair. “And I just know something bad is going to happen. I can feel it. Everytime he gets near, I feel like… like….”
She shrank in her chair, pulling her arms close. The trembling and the headache from earlier grew worse. “I’m not going back,” Kezrin repeated again, quietly.
Renzly shook her head, sheathing the dagger. “I got another idea, Goldie. Ya help me out, and I don’t tell your folks where you’re hidin’. We got a deal?”
“What?” she looked up in surprise. “You’d do that?”
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Renzly warned. “You’re more useful ta me here.”
“What can I do?”
She grinned slowly. “I know your type. Papa spent a bunch of moolah educatin’ ya, didn’t he? I need some research done, and I bet you’re just the one ta do it.”
“What sort of research?” Kezrin asked with some apprehension. “I barely have time to sleep.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout that. If you’re workin’ for me, I’ll set ya up with somethin’. But first, we got a deal?” She offered her hand. “Or should I go send a letter to Pop?”
Slowly, Kezrin reached out and shook it. “Deal.”
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Avoidance
Weddings.
She hated them.
Kezrin sat in the back corner of the tavern, picking idly at the plate of food and avoiding eye contact with anyone. She felt a pang of guilt for leaving Koudo to deal with picking up the invitations, but she couldn't deal with it. Not any more. She'd been unable to sleep after the last Lounge night.
Kezrin wasn't sure why she stopped at this particular tavern, but she wasn't up to thinking too hard about anything. No one bothered her when she came in aside from the waitress who took her order and that was enough.
She hated them.
Kezrin sat in the back corner of the tavern, picking idly at the plate of food and avoiding eye contact with anyone. She felt a pang of guilt for leaving Koudo to deal with picking up the invitations, but she couldn't deal with it. Not any more. She'd been unable to sleep after the last Lounge night.
Kezrin wasn't sure why she stopped at this particular tavern, but she wasn't up to thinking too hard about anything. No one bothered her when she came in aside from the waitress who took her order and that was enough.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Avoidance
It was hard finding work.
Kezrin didn't have any references, of course, but not many people were taking the time to check them, anyway. The real problem was the sheer number of goblins flooding the streets of Bilgewater Harbor; it was blessing and a curse. The mob of immigrants provided both anonymity and fierce competition for any job, no matter how menial.
She'd spent the past two weeks picking up day jobs here and there, mostly hard labor helping build the city. She had sore muscles that she hadn't even known existed, and blisters on her hands from where she'd yet to earn calluses.
She was on her way home from such a job (a day spent hauling wood off carts from Ashenvale) and it was already long past dark and the streets were poorly lit.
Kezrin didn't have any references, of course, but not many people were taking the time to check them, anyway. The real problem was the sheer number of goblins flooding the streets of Bilgewater Harbor; it was blessing and a curse. The mob of immigrants provided both anonymity and fierce competition for any job, no matter how menial.
She'd spent the past two weeks picking up day jobs here and there, mostly hard labor helping build the city. She had sore muscles that she hadn't even known existed, and blisters on her hands from where she'd yet to earn calluses.
She was on her way home from such a job (a day spent hauling wood off carts from Ashenvale) and it was already long past dark and the streets were poorly lit.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Avoidance
“Hiiii, Miss Kanzelry, you’re early- oh! You look horrible!” Cori sat
up straighter in her chair as she got a good look at the white haired
goblin trudging in the door.
“Didn’t sleep well,” Kezrin mumbled in reply. The dark circles under her eyes spoke the truth to the statement. “Vancina finish those letters yet?”
“They’re in the pick-up room.”
“Great. If anyone asks, I’m gonna be busy doin’ that all day. ’kay?” She shuddered. “Got somethin’ else I’d rather not do. Telirra knows.”
“Oh... sure!”
Ten minutes later, Kezrin left the building with an absent wave to Cori, carrying a satchel full of small packages meant for Ratchet and one of the flyer packets. Cori waved cheerfully back at her. The poor girl needed some cheering up.
Later that day, the packages were dropped off at Ratchet, along with a sealed note for Koudo before Kezrin hurried off.
That was the last time anyone from the AAMS saw her.
“Didn’t sleep well,” Kezrin mumbled in reply. The dark circles under her eyes spoke the truth to the statement. “Vancina finish those letters yet?”
“They’re in the pick-up room.”
“Great. If anyone asks, I’m gonna be busy doin’ that all day. ’kay?” She shuddered. “Got somethin’ else I’d rather not do. Telirra knows.”
“Oh... sure!”
Ten minutes later, Kezrin left the building with an absent wave to Cori, carrying a satchel full of small packages meant for Ratchet and one of the flyer packets. Cori waved cheerfully back at her. The poor girl needed some cheering up.
Later that day, the packages were dropped off at Ratchet, along with a sealed note for Koudo before Kezrin hurried off.
That was the last time anyone from the AAMS saw her.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Avoidance (RP)
The night plagued her with nightmares worse than any she'd had in several months.
Lounge night had been a disaster, at least for Kezrin. First the warlock Riesstiu had shown up, and then to make matters worse, so had Trenetir Moradinel.
He was still fussing over his wedding invitations. The insidious elf was still also insisting that all his AAMS business be conducted by herself and Koudo, when he perfectly well knew that they were the two people in the company who hated him the most. Koudo, for he had broken her heart, and Kezrin, for she was the one who knew that Moradinel was blackmailing the AAMS.
True, Kezrin didn't know exactly what papers Moradinel had gotten his hands on, except they'd come from Ironforge. The bossgnome had gotten herself in trouble with the Ironforge Guard, to the point where they had even issued an arrest warrant for Derscha. She'd not wanted to risk it, and so had agreed to do his first job for free.
And then the second, and the third, and... she really should have known better.
Lounge night had been a disaster, at least for Kezrin. First the warlock Riesstiu had shown up, and then to make matters worse, so had Trenetir Moradinel.
He was still fussing over his wedding invitations. The insidious elf was still also insisting that all his AAMS business be conducted by herself and Koudo, when he perfectly well knew that they were the two people in the company who hated him the most. Koudo, for he had broken her heart, and Kezrin, for she was the one who knew that Moradinel was blackmailing the AAMS.
True, Kezrin didn't know exactly what papers Moradinel had gotten his hands on, except they'd come from Ironforge. The bossgnome had gotten herself in trouble with the Ironforge Guard, to the point where they had even issued an arrest warrant for Derscha. She'd not wanted to risk it, and so had agreed to do his first job for free.
And then the second, and the third, and... she really should have known better.
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