Murk handed Renza'shi an ale as he took a seat with him and Liila. Lisp followed behind, offering Liila a water as he took the last chair at the half broken table. While it had been a hellish fight, they'd managed to slay the ghouls and reclaim their home. The victory felt somewhat hollow, however, as so many had fallen and so much had been damaged. The four of them had spent the last hour after the fighting had ceased righting toppled wagons and carrying the dead to piles to be incinerated, so as to assure they wouldn't get up and start walking again. One or two forsaken had been left to the side, to give them time to see if they were actually dead, or merely unconscious.

The various adventurers and guards who were pitching in with the clean up fighters were cycling through breaks, and Liila had received word that Impervious would be back in Orgrimmar shortly. Apparently she'd contacted them in the middle of their fight.

As she sipped her water and mulled over the repairs that would be needed to Whisper's Vials, Renza'shi tapped the table in front of her. When she looked up at him, he had a firm frown in place.

"Ya died. Earlia, when we was fightin' dat death knight."

Liila swished the water around in her glass. "Yes, I did." Her voice droned with only the slightest of inflection—this was her usual 'expressive' tone, though it wasn't much different from her monotone—as she'd lost her bet when Bloodsworn had escaped. Instead, she just sounded tired, like this was a line of questioning that she'd had to go over far too many times.

"How dat be possible?" Renza'shi whispered, slightly awed. If she could teach others how she could come back to life like that...the Horde would never have to lose another battle again.

"It's part of the curse," Liila practically spat the words.

"It seems kind of useful," Murk offered, swallowing half his ale in a single gulp, though he nearly choked on it when he saw the dark look the little elf gave him.

"Say that again when you're tied to a table with someone leaning against your esophagus just because you didn't scream loud enough when they cut you." Liila didn't wait for any of them to answer as she ran her fingers through her messy hair. Her sleeve had been torn during the fighting and they could all see pieces of the death rune scars running up her arm. "Or if you're bound and tied to something heavy and cast into a lake. Sure, you can get out of it eventually. Each time you drown will hurt just as much as the time before, though...and depending on how good the shackles are, it could take a damned eternity to get free. Do you really think it's useful to die fifty times just to get out of a bind?" Her anger wavered as she realized it wasn't them that she held her grudge against. She gave Murk an unreadable glance before looking back at her cup. "If you hadn't come along and healed me, who knows how many times I would have died from that stab wound."

Murk frowned and offered an offhanded apology. Though he was still interested in the potential of her 'ailment', he figured he would have to let her anger boil down before he tried to bring up the subject again.

While the other three brooded, Lisp cocked his head, watching Liila. "So…how many times does that bring you to? That you remember?"

"Forty-three," she murmured, abruptly gulping down her water. As she rose to her feet, she gave them a forced whisper of a smile. "Forgive me gentlemen, but dying always puts me in a foul mood."

Lisp rose to his feet as well. "So...is that bet still going? For what your fiftieth death will be?"

Even as both Murk and Renza'shi tried to ask why anyone would make a bet like that, Liila gave Lisp a half smile. "It is." She paused to glance at the other two, her dark mood already beginning to dissipate. "My friends are all assholes, in case you couldn't tell."

"Liila!'

A rasping voice interrupted their conversation, and Margaret ran through the fractured doorway to the inn and flung her arms around Liila. Even as the small elf patted her friend's shoulder, Margaret pulled back to inspect her. She had a hopeful grin on her face, despite the obvious devastation. "So...he was here? And he couldn't control you anymore?" When Liila nodded, Margaret hugged her again. "Excellent! I guess you could have come with us to Quel'Danas, huh?"

As the members of Blood and Honor gave them curious looks, Margaret sighed, stroking Liila's hair as though she were either a child or a pet. "She's been avoiding the Eastern Kingdoms...well, the northern part. We...were worried that that death knight might find her and take control of her again...But! If he wasn't able to, then that's great news!" Margaret squeezed her.

"He's still out there, though," Liila murmured, defeated.

"Yeah, but we'll track him down and make him die like the dog he is," Margaret grinned. "In the meantime, no more excuses for missing raids for you." The forsaken laughed before catching sight of the smashed tables in the inn. Reminded that Orgrimmar's Valley of Strength was in shambles, she frowned. "By the way, what in the nether happened here? Was this all...his doing?"

"No...there was an army of ghouls," Liila hesitated and glanced at the others. "I'm not sure if it was just to try to weaken Orgrimmar itself or..."

Margaret's smile remained unwavering as she looped arms with Liila and started to head out into the mess. Shadow, Haa'aji and a few others were already starting to re-erect a few merchant's stalls. Even Tizzle, Wrachette, and Sprocket had come, though they were already arguing with a few orcs that they were there to offer their large green friends a chance at discount timber and maybe some scaffolding equipment, but little more. Margaret patted Liila's head as they looked out to see the devastation. "Don't let that elven ego of yours get too inflated. I doubt they'd do something this big just to come for you. You were probably just icing on the cake."

Renza'shi patted Liila's shoulder as he and his guild mates came out to rejoin the cleanup effort as well. "Yeh, mon. Dis nah be ya fault a nuttin'." However, even as the other two walked out, and Margaret left them to go yell at Mitchell and Timmons for playing shadow puppets with one of the corpses, he glanced down at Liila. "Ya know, wat wit' dyin' 'n all, if ya need ya rest, Ah don' tink nahbodeh'd mind if ya bowed out."

Liila gave him a half smile. "Thank you, but I'd rather put off the dreams I'll be having about this for a few more hours, at least."

~"~

Haa'aji sat at the small table in the back of Whisper's Vials, his feet resting upon the smooth surface and his fingers laced and hands behind his head as he watched Margaret and Liila pick up the broken glass that littered the floor. Whisper was in the process of pulling the broken shelving unit off the wall, pausing every few minutes to hiss that things might go faster if someone would help her.

The troll furrowed his hairless brow as he ignored Whisper's not so subtle requests for assistance. "Reshi saw ya die, eh?"

Liila frowned as she heard Renza'shi's nickname. The warrior hated it...and Haa'aji for that matter. With her luck, he'd come by, and Haa'aji would start something between the two of them, just to take out the rest of the potions and furniture in the shop. However, she nodded. "He wanted to know more about it. So did Murk."

Margaret rocked back on her heels as she stood up, carrying the fragments of vials over to the counter, where they had already amassed quite a pile. She dropped hers on top and then stretched her back, frowning as she looked to see there were still dozens of tiny pieces littering the floor. They'd already swept up the larger chunks of glass.

Rather than rejoining Liila on the floor, she tapped a bony finger against her lips, pondering what sort of spell would be needed to get this done faster. Whisper had already said using wind wouldn't be smart, as that could easily make a whirling tornado of flying glass particulates.

There had to be something.

"Well, I have to say, from a stranger's perspective, it'd be easy not to see all the downsides that come with it. It was probably just naive curiosity."

"It better have been," Whisper murmured, pressing her weight down on a half shattered shelf and nearly plummeting to the floor herself as it finally gave out.

"Whisper's gonna kill her a troll," Margaret laughed.

"Ah'm gonna kill meh a troll," Haa'aji muttered, ignoring as both Whisper and Margaret eyed him. They'd never really understood what he had against Renza'shi. However, before they could ask, Haa'aji pulled loose a small splinter of wood from the table he sat at, ignored as Whisper practically screamed that he was breaking her shop, and tossed it at Liila. "Ah hea he been invatin' ya ta Blood 'n Hona again."

"He did." Liila straightened up, still resting on her knees on the floor. Despite having gotten the glass shards out of her side, her shoulder reset, and being healed, her skin still ached dully and having to stoop over to pick up all the remnants of Bloodsworn's attack wasn't making things any better. "He invited all of Impervious, really."

She walked over to the pile of debris and dropped her crystalline shards onto it as well before leaning beside Margaret. Even as she sighed and looked at Haa'aji, Margaret reached over and started weaving a few sporadic braids into the elf's hair.

Haa'aji shrugged, content to remain in his corner, useless. "Ah tink Reshi jus' be angreh his guild not be as amazin' as a's."

"Then he should switch," Margaret teased, laughing as Haa'aji bristled at the thought of sharing space with the troll warrior.

"He'd never leave Blood and Honor," Whisper muttered, clearing the next shelf that had a deep split in it. While it might not be in imminent danger of falling, it would be tacky to leave something so broken in her shop.

Haa'aji laughed, bitter. "Don' mean he don' wan' a invitation, mon." He sneered at the thought as the other three looked at him. "He be one a dem dat likes knowin' he be wann'ed."

"Men," Margaret muttered, hoping Haa'aji would get the jibe included him. He didn't seem to notice as he brooded.

With a sigh, Whisper opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped herself and just shook her head. She glanced around the shop again and then stretched her arms up over her head. They'd spent almost three days with barely any sleep or rest, helping out with the clean up in the Valley of Strength and had only this afternoon gotten around to Whisper's Vials. Honestly, the only reason they were there at that point was that Gore had hoped they would be able to supply potions to fatigued workers or to those who injured themselves while rebuilding.

While they had already sent out what had been in stock with a few grunts, Whisper had wanted to get the shop back in working order and that meant fixing the shelves and getting rid of the evidence that there had ever been a fight. She inspected the blood spatter near the broken display case. That was going to be the worst to get rid of.

However, if they really wanted things to get done, they would need to pace themselves. Though Haa'aji was more than useless, Liila and Margaret had been faithfully using their thin fingers to clear the smaller debris that Whisper couldn't pick up, and she could see how worn down they were from having to concentrate so hard on their task.

"Let's call it a day, okay?" Whisper offered. When the others seemed ready to protest, she just shrugged. "This is frustrating. I think if we come back tomorrow, rested and ready, we'll get through this quicker."

~"~

Renza'shi was asleep. Murk couldn't believe it. The troll was sitting upright at the table nearest the door, his hands still on his weapon, where he'd laid it across the wood in front of him, and he was completely passed out. A small snore escaped the troll's throat, and Murk considered whacking him on the back of the head, but decided against it. They'd all had a rough few days.

Though he would have loved to flop down beside his guild mate and pass out, he merely shook his head. There was too much to do. What if the Alliance caught wind of Orgrimmar's condition and tried to attack? Sure, rumors were pouring in that the Alliance capitals as well as settlements for both factions across both continents and even a few places in Outland had also been attacked by ghouls—and that some of the attacks were still going—but who was to say that wasn't just a cover up, so that the Horde would relax their defenses and allow the Alliance to sweep in and overtake them?

Murk turned toward the door, thinking to find the flight master and ask him about any solid reports of other areas being hit—aside from the Undercity and Silvermoon, for those two cities were so used to having ghouls and undead attempting to overwhelm them that they'd barely noticed a flux. As he turned, he nearly walked right into Liila, who looked somewhat curious and lost at the same time as she peered around at Blood and Honor's guild hall.

"Throm-Ka, friend," Murk nodded to her, and she echoed the greeting. He couldn't help a faint smile. "Coming to join us?"

"No," Liila murmured. Her voice had almost settled back into a monotone, though it sounded more like a soft, sad melody as she spoke. "Actually, I came to talk to you two..." Her eyes swept over Renza'shi, and she paused as he snored again. "I suppose it could wait, though."

"Nonsense. What brings you here?"

"I..." Liila reached up toward her neck as though subconsciously trying to clasp something. Her hand fell back to her side. "I was wearing a necklace when that death knight attacked. It had a ring on it..."

Murk arched an eyebrow. "You lost it?"

With a nod, Liila shifted her weight, seeming uncomfortable with the subject. "I already checked the shop and tried to look through the valley for it, but...I thought maybe one of you found it?"

Murk gave her a sympathetic shrug. "I didn't. Lisp went with a few others who came back on short notice...they headed to Thunder Bluff to see how bad the Scourge damaged that city. When he gets back, though, I can ask him about it."

"That's alright," Liila nodded her head politely. "I already asked him."

Murk cocked his head. Lisp had a way of keeping in touch with his former guild that he'd never really explained. While he'd apparently tried to share the spell or whatever it was with Taknar, it had proved too hard for them to understand, and they'd accidentally angered Mitchell, who in turn had actively worked against them since, making sure they would never be able to use the spells that he had perfected.

While a few from Impervious had offered to try to talk him out of it or to see if they could help on their own, Taknar had been content to use the standard methods of communication. Even so, it left more than a few of them wondering what spells those of Impervious wove to speak amongst themselves so efficiently.

Murk started toward Renza'shi, thinking to wake him, but Liila lightly grabbed his arm. "Let him sleep. Just...tell him to come by the shop or my house later?"

~"~

Sethyl Sunblade stood in front of a worn elven door. It needed replacing badly, as the door still bore scars from when several ghouls had attempted to break through it. He wondered if that deterred business at all or if it made people feel safer, figuring that if the door hadn't come down yet, it was a better protected establishment than others.

He'd almost strode through the door, but had stopped himself. He'd been gone for almost two months—only two months—yet he felt like this small shop was no longer his home. What he'd once thought of as the peaceful silence of Silvermoon now felt dead. He found himself wishing to have his senses overrun by the bustling streets of Orgrimmar, with its crowded houses and loud inhabitants.

Shuddering as he heard something scuff against the ground in the distance and wondering if it were a ghoul of some kind, he jerked the door to the shop open and walked inside. The store was just as lonely as he'd remembered it. The walls were bare, save for one or two shelves with sparse materials on them. Only a few feet from the door was a display case with different trinkets and jewelry boasting the excellent craftsmanship of their creator.

Sethyl slipped around the counter, careful not to bump it or jostle the service bell which rested on one corner, and slipped behind a curtain that led into the back of the store. He stopped as he passed into the back, seeing his father sitting hunched over at his work bench, carefully placing a few emeralds into a delicate necklace.

He didn't look up or make any attempt to acknowledge Sethyl's arrival, though the paladin knew he'd registered his presence. However, such meticulous detail required concentration.

Sethyl stood in silence until his father had secured the last of the gems and then sighed before looking up at his son. The elf's hair was beginning to gray around the temples, and he looked all around worn out.

Shifting his weight, suddenly uncomfortable with the attention, Sethyl nodded to his father. "I'm home."

The words sounded empty, and his father caught that too, though he merely nodded. "Did the blood knight barracks finally get too crowded for your liking?"

"I haven't been..." Sethyl realized that when he'd headed off to see about Impervious' recruitment, he'd been angry with his father and hadn't given him any type of warning. He walked over to the table his father was at and sat across from him. "I went to Orgrimmar. Joined a guild." He shrugged as his father blinked back his surprise. "I've helped out in Outland, and I was even there when Quel'Danas was reclaimed."

His father couldn't help a small smile, though he quickly allowed a stern look to replace it. "I'd figured you just weren't talking to me...since I told you to stop basing your life around the shop."

Sethyl laughed slowly. "Ah, no. Just being careless and inconsiderate." As his father's smile returned, he paused and suddenly felt guilty for coming home. "I..." There was no point in lying; his father would be able to tell. "One of my guild mates had this ring..." He paused and rummaged through his bags before pulling Liila's mangled accessory up for his father to see. The older elf knit his brow together as he reached out and took the ring to inspect. It had a few deep gashes that almost broke the ring all together, and parts of what had once been delicate branches with leaves had been twisted down so that the wearer would be stabbed in the finger if they tried to put it on.

As he flipped it over, looking to see that most of the inscription on the inside had been scratched out, Sethyl continued. "I...wanted to fix it for her."

"Her," his father echoed, green eyes snapping toward his son. The ring was clearly of elven make, but if he'd met the lass in Orgrimmar... The last thing he needed was half-orc grandchildren. Would they be green? Even as he supposed he could get over such petty, shallow concerns, if he really needed to, Sethyl started talking again, oblivious to his father's near panic attack.

Sethyl had reached across the table and taken the ring back, holding it so that his father could see the top as he tapped it. "I think this is a family crest, and I thought maybe I could look through our books to see which one, so that I can restore it properly."

A family crest meant she was an elf. His father thanked the Light quickly and nodded, though he frowned. "Why not just ask her?"

"Well, I wanted to surprise her," Sethyl mumbled. In truth, he'd wanted to find out more about Liila's past, possibly something to help him understand her...or push her to keeping her end of their deal.

After they'd eliminated the Scourge attacking Orgrimmar, and spent the day cleaning up, Sethyl had tried to talk to Liila about the answers she owed him, but she had merely thrown herself against his shoulder and all but commanded him to carry her home so that she could rest. He had not been amused. On his way back to the inn, as he wondered where he was going to sleep—since the building was in pretty poor shape—he'd gone by Whisper's Vials and had found the ring lying on the ground, with the necklace it had been strung up on broken.

The next day he'd intended to return the item to her, ruined as it was, figuring that Liila knew plenty of jewel crafters and had probably chosen to keep the ring in such a mutilated state for some reason beyond his comprehension. However, she'd avoided him all that day and dodged answering any of his questions again, saying that they could talk about it once Orgrimmar wasn't in shambles. On the third morning, he'd finally asked Margaret to port him back to Silvermoon. If she wouldn't talk to him willingly, he'd find something that would make her talk.

He hoped his father would take his actions as being bashful rather than manipulative, and as he looked toward the older elf, he had to fight back a triumphant grin. The older elf wandered over to a small bookshelf on one side of the room and ran his fingers over a few different tomes before plucking one off the shelf and flipping it open as he walked back to the table.

"Did you want my help, or to do this ring for your friend on your own?"

~"~

Renza'shi trotted up to Liila's house. In truth, the little elf had bought a home with Whisper and Margaret, though it was a rare occasion when all three of them were there. Often times, at least one of them was off roaming the world, be it questing, seeking assistance, or merely gathering reagents to keep their business going.

He was still tired as hell, though he supposed he would get over it soon enough. Murk had offered that it had something to do with the diseases that the death knight had used on them. While they were gone, the body had still started to mount its own defense against the infection, and as a result whenever a disease was removed—according to Murk—it left the person who'd had it rather muddled and sluggish for a little while. The worse the disease, the worse the side effect.

While he didn't want to think how bad it must have been for him to be ready to curl up and sleep almost half a week later, Renza'shi pushed it to the back of his mind as he walked up to the door to Liila's home. He could hear voices inside. Accompanying the usual chatter was a male voice, and for a moment he paused to wonder if that paladin from Everlook was there.

Rather, as he came into view and was welcomed in by Whisper who caught sight of him first, he found Wren to be seated at the table in the center of the dining area. He had a curious look on his face as Margaret went on about something, though his curiosity seemed at least in part to the way the house had been set up.

If he'd only stayed at the inn, he wouldn't have really had a chance to see orcish homes yet. Renza'shi eyed the elf from the door as a few introductions were tossed about. Margaret patted a seat at the table and grinned. "Stop blocking the doorway, and come in."

"Dat be okay, mon—"

"You're here to see Liila, right?" Whisper asked from a counter where she was chopping vegetables. "She ran to the market to gather a few things before we eat." She paused and glanced over at him. "If you want to stay for dinner, you're welcome to. I think Howl and Gregor are coming by a bit later."

Bowing his head quickly, Renza'shi took a step back into the night. "Actualleh, Ah tink Ah go find Liila, yeh? Ah needed ta talk ta ha."

Despite Margaret and Whisper practically insisting he stay, he managed to get out of it and walked back along the road toward the Valley of Strength. Just as he paused to wonder if maybe Liila had gone to one of the smaller market areas instead of the one that was still undergoing repairs, she came around a corner, carrying a small satchel over one of her shoulders.

She picked up her pace as she saw Renza'shi and he waved. When the two had stopped in front of one another, the troll warrior scratched the back of his neck and glanced around the empty street. People had been staying in after dark for the most part, after the ghoul attack...even though the monsters had attacked them in broad daylight, there was that stigma that came with the darkness.

"So, Ah nah be havin' ya ring," Renza'shi offered.

Liila's shoulders slumped, but she nodded. The two stood in silence for a moment before Liila motioned past him toward her house. "If you want to come for dinner—"

"Nah, tanks t'ough." He glanced around again and then slung an arm over her shoulders and redirected her path toward a side street. "Le's talk outta de way, yeh?"

"Sure." Liila allowed him to guide her down to one of the allies and then stopped just inside of it. "What's on your mind?"

"Ah wann'ed ta apolagize fa earlia." Renza'shi stretched his back, towering over the little elf before dropping back down and leaning against a wall to bring him closer to her height. "Ah wasn' tinkin' a wat ya had ta go tru ta get dat resarrection abiliteh." When Liila cocked her head, he sighed. "Don' be mad at Murk, t'ough, a'ight? He been tinkin' 'bout wat be best fa de Horde."

Liila sighed. "I know. I just...I don't know which parts of the curse do what, or I'd give you guys an idea of what would help you."

Her words sounded hollow, as though she were forcing herself to act civil. Renza'shi shook his head slowly. "Don' be worrehin' 'bout it, yeh? Ah keep Murk from buggin' ya."

"Thank you," Liila nodded her head to him and patted his shoulder. He smiled as he nodded back and swung himself back to his feet, leading the way out of the alley.

Liila tapped his arm as they stepped back into the open night. "Are you sure you don't want to come to dinner?"