Her room is small, neat, and bare. Where it once held memories, it now has none. Slowly she rid her room of her past. Slowly she threw out who she was to be replaced by who she is. All that remained is her tools of the trade and even those are neatly put away. The less they know about her, the less they have to hold over her. She learned this lesson well watching it destroy others.

She adjusts the wig carefully. Her fingers wrap around the discarded black dress before closing the closet door. Hoolga holds the dress clutched to her with a soft wistful smile that fades quickly. She looks around her room and huffs. Pushing away from the closet, she drops the dress in the trashbin.

The day is stretching out before her and her eyebrow quirks. She stands near the window peering out at the street. Folks walk by minding their business. Some speak loudly while others laugh and wander slowly as if they have all the time in the world. Her hand rubs lightly across her belly trying to calm the butterflies threatening to take flight. "Where are y'?" Her own voice startles her.

A book in hand she seeks a different way to distract herself. She lies on her belly. Her boots are nestled under the bed neatly lined up with the foot board. Her feet are raised crossed at the ankles while she props up on her elbows reading. Her form fitting leathers hug her body as she distractedly drops a foot to the blanket with a thwump. She smells his cologne before he reaches her door. She subtly checks for her dagger under her pillow.

"Hoolga."

She has been expecting him. He's late. He's never late. Except today. So he's never late until now. Word traveled slowly for once or he was in no hurry to see her. How odd. "Hmm?" She doesn't bother turning towards him yet he has her full attention. The tension he brought into the room is thick and pressing on her.

His deep voice grumbles on. "Y' 'ave somethin' o' mine."

Hoolga rolls over on her side and stares at him from across the room. She smirks at him knowing what he wants. She's not ready to give it up so easily. He looks less than amused and right put out. Good. So is she. What is this tension furrowing his brow? She hadn't done anything wrong, that she can immediately think of. "I 'ave somethin' y' want. I cinnae say I agree tha' it be yers."

"Y' know y' werk fer me an' th' guild an' tha' there list is mine."

"Is tha' whatcha came here fer?" Her hooded eyes take in his form hungrily. She pouts playfully and rolls on to her back. One leg bent she stretches her body like a cat arching her back lifting her breasts and whimpering. "So disappointin'."

It was his turn to smirk. "Y' know tha' won' work wit me. I want th' list."

She sighs dropping all pretenses of lust and sexual interest. "There was a time it did." She sits up on the bed, her leg crossed before her, the other dangling off the edge, her head tilts as she twirls her red short curls in thought. "Y' know I always git wha' I want. Wha' makes y' think y' can take from me so easily?"

He growls and covers the short distance between the door and her bed. His hands are balled in fists as she giggles at him. "Blast it, woman! Gimme wha' is mine."

"I'll tell y' wha' I'm gonna do fer ya." He reaches out for her and stops cold. His eyes widen for a brief pause before his composure falls back in to place. She smiles calmly up at him. He hisses taking a step back, away from the dagger tip that she was recently digging in to his inner thigh. "Now tha's a good boy."

"Y' don' wanna cross meh, Hoolga."

"Oh, I 'ave a feelin' I already 'ave. Tell me I'm wrong. I dare y' to." He snorts, his lip curls turning his eyes away from her unable to meet her gaze. She watches him carefully, studying his body language, reading him like a book. She slips her dagger back in to its scabbard. She stuffs her feet in to her leather boots before facing him. He has already spoken volumes without uttering a single word. "Tha's wha' I thought." This day had been coming. She knew it. Just didn't know when. She is glad he was the one that came for her. She boldly steps closer to him. Startled he stares at her. Hoolga rises on her tip toes planting a soft kiss on his lips that he hesitantly returns.

What started as a soft chaste kiss warms quickly. She presses against him when he pulls her close. He bites back his moan pulling away reluctantly. "Hoolga…" He stares at her, their eyes clashing in an unspoken war of words. After a few moments, she sighs and steps back.

"Even if I ha' given y' the list, y' been done wit' me." She correctly reads the subtle twitch of his eyebrow, the tightening of his lips and she nods. "Issok. She best treat y' good."

"Th' list, Hoolga." His gaze is steady, his jaw is set.

She rests her palm on his cheek in a soft caress. She gently runs her thumb across his lips. "Y' already 'ave it, Adolie. Check yer pockets."

"My…?" Adolie checks his pockets and finds a single small slip of paper with the list of names. He looks up to find the room empty, the door ajar with nothing but the hint of lilacs in the air. "Oy, Hoolga."

Hoolga wandered Ironforge lost in thought. She has boxes stashed with friends or more accurately contacts. She's been on the move for two days. She has money in her bank account. She isn't totally alone… yes, she is. She's just not destitute this time. She gives a small nod more to reassure herself than anyone else. She looks around and sighs, slipping in to the nearest Inn.

She sits quietly at the back corner table of the Inn. With her chin resting on her palms she props her elbows firmly on the table. She stares wistfully at the small coin purse sitting before her. She pokes at the small leather pouch of coins. Part of her wishes Adolie would come looking for it and the other part, the more sensible part, knows he won't.

She exhales a burst of air, blowing her sandy blond bangs from her eyes. Now what? She has been a con and a thief for so long. Is it finally catching up to her? She is far too young to just meet a dead end like this. There has to be more to life. She toys with a pouch draw string as her mind wanders. She has made a name for herself within the underworld workings of the thieves' guild. She has made a few 'friends' and probably numerous enemies. Those just waiting to double cross her and others willing to work with her. She is known for getting the job done by whatever means necessary: seduction, bribery, blackmail and once… no, that was self-defense.

Her eyes narrow. She hears a familiar laugh somewhere in the dining area. She looks up curiously noting a table of women… no, girls… young women… young women around her age and… she peers at the profile of the one on the right and sits back in the shadows with a soft gasp.

For the first time since entering, Hoolga takes a good look at her surroundings with a groan. She wonders what possessed her to wander into this area of Ironforge and regrets the subconscious choice immensely. She looks around for a quick escape finding none that doesn't take her past that particular table.

Now that she is no longer lost in her own thoughts, she listens intently to those around her. She can clearly hear Rosehilda speaking at the others. She hasn't changed. Hoolga smirks. She's still the same arrogant, self-important, self-righteous, pompous Rosehilda Ironhame. Hoolga sighs and shakes her head. It wasn't that long ago that they were friends. Well no, no one is really friends with Rosehilda. It wasn't that long ago that she was just like her. No, she wasn't just like her. She was trained to be. She learned quickly how to play the roles expected of her in life.

A barmaid brings her a bowl of thick warm stew and a small basket of warm bread. She keeps her voice low yet polite not quite meeting the other woman's gaze. "Thankee."

"Hollyella? Hollyella Soulaxe?"

Hoolga is so surprised to hear her birth name she sputters. "I… um… no, I'm sorry. Y' got th' wrong girl."

"Oh? An' next y'll be tellin' m' thatcha weren't me best friend in school and tha' yer not tryin' desperately not t' be seen by tha' table behind me." The barmaid smirks. "I can be askin' Rose, Kinna an' the likes if'n they recognize ya. I'm sure Maybelle will be happy t' do jus' tha'."

Hoolga peers at the girl. "Nay bu' I'd appreciate it if'n y' keep yer voice down, Mar… an' maybe move a smidgen t' yer right."

Marvyre chuckles while inching to her right. "Where y' been, Hollyella and wha' didja do t' yer hair?"

"Th' name is Hoolga now. I been… places." She touches her hair and smirks. "Wha? Ya doan like m' hair? It be a wig. I can be a red head if'n ya prefer." Hoolga shrugs, takes a deep breath and toys with her spoon. "Listen Mar, when Momma passed I learnt a thing or two aboot m' parents tha' weren' t' be learnt. Worse is I realized then tha' Momma had been preppin' me fer somethin' me whole life."

"All them proper classes an' th' like? The speech, dance an' such?" Marvyre clutches the tray to her bosom listening intently to every word. "Didn' she say it twere fer yer future an' tha' y' were t' be a proper wife an'…" Marvyre's eyes widen a touch. "Oh…"

"Aye… fat lot o' good tha' was." Hoolga ponders this and grins. "Actually, it did do me a bit o' good."

"Bu' Holl-"

"Hoolga." Hoolga corrected her. "Hollyella is no more. She up an' died when 'er intended rejected 'er."

"I 'eard aboot tha'. Any word from 'im?"

"Oy!" The Innkeeper is waving her down. Hoolga shrugs noncommittally quickly lowering her gaze to her stew. Marvyre simply sighs. "Marvyre!"

"Sorry, mate. Don' go disappearin' on me agin…" She gives Hoolga a knowing look. Hoolga doesn't look up giving Marvyre another simple shrug.

Marvyre quickly walks towards the other table giving Hoolga a backward warning glance. Hoolga ignores her poking at her stew. Blasted Marvyre is stirring up memories long put behind her and best left buried. What good will come of digging up the past? Her old life, Hollyella's life, is over. Adolie made sure of that. As his name flits through her mind, her eyes are pulled like magic to his coin pouch. She growls at it as if she were growling at him, Adolie the blasted spineless snake.