Sethyl shivered as he appeared in the Cleft in Orgrimmar. Taking portals always made him uneasy, though he could never quite place why. No other elves seemed to have such problems, however, so he wasn't about to voice his unsettlement.

It didn't help that they were so expensive, either.

However, Enlyhn had told him that he'd only summon him if he could have his soul, Timmons hadn't even dignified his request with a response, and he hadn't wanted to spend a week on the zeppelin just to get back to Orgrimmar. By then Liila would probably have found some adventure to get caught up in, and then he'd be waiting forever for his answers.

While Sethyl was getting pretty good at navigating the streets of Orgrimmar, the Cleft was another story, and he counted himself lucky that he'd even managed to find daylight, even if it was in the wrong part of town. It only took Sethyl a moment to realize that he was in the Valley of Strength. People were still scrambling to repair shops, and more than a few shopkeepers were taking advantage of the free labor to add on to their buildings. Was there a second floor to that store? Why yes there was; it was smallish, but definitely there.

As Sethyl passed through, he paused when he saw Shadow single handedly holding up a wall frame while Wren and Gregor drummed nails into place near the top, securing it to the other walls. Shadow caught sight of him and nodded his head, the only motion he could really afford, as he offered a quick hello.

Sethyl walked up to them and returned the nod to Shadow and waved to Gregor and Wren. The other two offered quick, muffled greetings, nails held between their lips. Looking about quickly for any signs of other guild mates and seeing no one, Sethyl turned his attention back to the others. "Do you need help?"

Gregor paused in his hammering and leaned over the edge to peer down at his elven friend. "Howl was supposed to have come with more struts and bolts and the like almost an hour ago, but he probably got bogged down with more smithing. Want to go find him? His shop's in the Valley of Honor." When Sethyl nodded, Gregor paused and vaulted off of his perch, kicking up a small cloud of reddish dust when he thudded into the ground. He sauntered over to where he'd set a few bags and rustled through them until he came out with a pen and paper. His boney fingers moved with an eerie grace as he sketched out a quick map and then handed it to Sethyl. "He'll probably be in the main smithy. If not, just ask around for Master Blacksmith Bonecrusher."

As soon as Sethyl was on his way, Gregor scaled back up the frame with ease and picked up where he'd left off, though he paused when he heard a soft squeak from the ground behind him and looked down to see a small sin'dorei mage watching him. Her large eyes widened even more as she realized she'd caught his attention, and she scurried off into the crowd of people hauling timber and merchants trying to turn at least a small profit during the reconstruction.

Wren arched his eyebrows as he stared after the petite little creature—she couldn't have been out of her teens—and then glanced at Gregor, who had already thrown himself back into his work. "What was that about?"

"The living don't like dead things," Shadow murmured from below. He shifted his weight, and the whole wall shook. After offering a quick apology, he sighed. "People get scared of us decent guys just because our hearts stopped beating and then go and cuddle up with Enlyhn. Makes no sense."

Gregor let out a rasping laugh. "Isn't that the truth."

Wren sat up straighter, fighting the urge to go track down the little elf and have her apologize, though he supposed he understood her fears. The first time he'd seen a forsaken climb something, able to move their limbs in ways that would have left a breathing individual with muscle cramps or popped out knee-caps, he'd had nightmares, his mind going back to the way some of the zombies—the geists—had scaled walls during the invasion of Silvermoon.

Wren was glad that he'd spent time in the Ghostlands with other forsaken before coming to Orgrimmar. Gregor was quite possibly the most honorable man he'd ever met, and he was glad he'd never acted so jumpy around his guild leader.

Gregor, however, was oblivious to Wren's thoughts. He drummed the last of his nails into the frame and sighed, glancing toward the elf. "Done?"

"Hmm? Oh." Wren quickly hammered in the last few nails and then nodded. As he did so, Shadow nudged the wall carefully and frowned when it still shook a bit.

With a laugh, Gregor dropped back down to the ground. "Once it's got the roof and planks on it, I doubt it'll be so shaky."

"Wouldn't want to learn that you're wrong the hard way," Shadow mumbled, shaking it again carefully. While it didn't give much, it was enough to make the death knight imagine the building collapsing on some innocent patron, happily perusing the shopkeeper's collection, unaware that he was about to be squished.

Gregor laughed off the tauren's concerns, slapping him on the arm as he picked up a few water skins and tossed one to Wren. As the two plopped down in the scarce shade of one of the nearby buildings that had suffered almost no damage, Wren looked out over city street, allowing his mind to wander.

The ground shook as Shadow thudded to a seat as well. Despite the dozens of denizens, they'd managed to find a quiet nook, other conversations and work providing a pleasant, droning hum. Well, Wren could make out a few different conversations going on as clear as day, but he was getting better at tuning out background noise.

"So word in Acherus is that the Alliance are going for Illidan," Shadow said casually. When Wren offered him water, the tauren merely laughed. "I haven't needed any of that in a long time." His face fell for a moment before he brushed it off and looked toward Gregor. "I don't suppose we could head to Northrend as soon as Orgrimmar is repaired?"

The corners of Gregor's lips dipped into a frown. "While people are turning their attentions north, it's still going to be a month or so before any real progress is made. And even with Illidan and the others dead, Outland will still need help. Soldiers and supplies. We're stretching ourselves thin."

It was Shadow's turn to frown. However, before he could say anything, Sethyl was back, his horse looking loathe to be drawing a small cart weighted down with sheets of metal and wood. Sethyl didn't look to be in a much better mood than his horse, and he scowled as he trotted over to the other three and dropped down to join them before they could call off their break and get to work unloading the cart.

He leaned toward them and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing back toward the Valley of Honor. "Some moron is saying that Anonymous defeated Kael'thas and Kil'jaeden."

Wren furrowed his brow. "What...?"

Before both elves could launch into the injustice of claiming another person's kill, Gregor and Shadow exchanged a quick glance. Shadow rolled his eyes. Gregor held his hands out and managed to quiet the two before they could make a scene. "There's no need to get upset."

"Why shouldn't we?" Sethyl snapped, despite the warning look from his guild leader. "We risked our lives to rid the world of those monsters and—"

"Impervious is Anonymous," Shadow interjected, his voice so low that Wren had to say he was impressed that Gregor had even heard him. However, before he could consider what credit was due, what Shadow had said sunk in.

Both elves stared at them, dumbstruck.

"Well, half of Anonymous, anyway," Gregor corrected.

The death knight rolled his shoulders slowly, one and then the other, ignoring his guild leader's comment. "Why do you think it's a guild requirement to wear helms during raids?"

"So that we don't get our brains bashed out," Wren objected, though Gregor merely laughed.

"There is that, but we try not to let people see who we are."

"And Margaret, Genji, Mitchell, and Sprocket have a memory spell that they use for when people do see us," Shadow explained, though he paused and merely smiled at a few orcs who walked by. He waited until they were out of earshot to continue. "If you ask anyone who was at Quel'Danas to describe anyone in the raid that went into the Sunwell Plateau, they'll be able to give generic descriptions at best."

"If someone really wanted to," Gregor added, "they could find out. For example, they'll remember that we have a paladin, so if they're dedicated enough, they could use process of elimination to figure out who had to have been there, but it won't be from any direct memory of seeing us."

Sethyl eyed the two carefully. "I told my dad I was at Quel'Danas."

"And there were a lot of individual adventurers or groups there, so there's no reason you can't say that." Shadow shrugged. "Just...Whisper's mother, Cloudless' lover, your families...do you want to draw attention to them by drawing attention to yourselves?"

"Because of that thing with the Alliance going after them?" Wren asked, suddenly tempted to scream at the top of his lungs that he was in Anonymous.

Gregor shook his head slowly. "And the other guilds that would assume that because we're strong enough to down demons and gods, that it means we would be useful in going after leaders of the Alliance. Do you really want to be blackmailed by Blood and Honor to go raze Darnasus?"

"And if people ask us why we won't attack the Alliance, then it looks like we're either sympathizers or something worse. It's better that they think we're mediocre at best and let us choose our battles than having to fight just to prove we're loyal to the Horde."

As Shadow finished talking, he rose to his feet and walked over to the cart to inspect the different supplies Sethyl had brought to them. He hoisted up a few planks and gave Gregor a playful glare. "I suppose this will be sturdy enough to withstand any sandstorms, though I don't know about another ghoul invasion."

"Well, hopefully we won't have another one of those." Gregor grinned as he shouldered a few bags of bolts and screws and went back to work.

Shadow paused as Wren and Sethyl both walked over to help unload and caught each of them by the shoulder as he leaned down to whisper in their ears. "If anyone outside of the guild suddenly comes up asking about Anonymous or anything that implies that they think that's who we are, your heads will be on the chopping block before anyone else's. We've kept ourselves secret for years, so there's no reason for it to get out now."

~"~

Liila was kneeling behind the counter when Sethyl walked into the shop and looked around. He paused when he saw her, though she kept about her business, as though he weren't there.

Sethyl walked over to the display case and stood near the end. Whisper had a good many friends, it had turned out, and it had been less than a week before a few guards had taken it upon themselves during their time off to fix the shop up. While some had claimed it was merely out of altruism—and because the rest of the city was getting the attention it needed, so why not help the little shop—Margaret had teased that they just wanted to be sure they'd be able to stop in and get potions or flasks as usual. If all the employees of Whisper's Vials were too busy with repairs, there would have been a distinct lack of product.

He was hours later than he'd meant to be. Even when Gregor had offered that Sethyl seemed like he had a place to be, the paladin had merely brushed it off and kept working alongside them. He didn't want to just leave them when there was clearly so much to do. They'd kept up their pace until they'd had most of the roof in place before calling it a night. Really, Sethyl suspected the only reason they had was because the sun had set low enough that it cast eerie shadows across the valley, as it could barely reach inside it any longer. After all, there wasn't much point in working in the dark. Shadow had joked that glowy eyes didn't substitute for sunlight.

Sethyl snapped from his thoughts as he realized that Liila had finished her organization and was standing quietly in front of him, watching his expressions change with his memories. Sethyl took a quick step back before allowing himself to relax and smirk. "Well then, I believe you owe me some answers, yes?"

His hand was in his pocket, around her ring, as he waited for her to try to deny him. Liila tilted her head to the side, her expression as unreadable as ever. Then, she slowly stepped around the display case, trailing her fingers over the top of it before she paused again. However, while he suspected she had been thinking of a way out of answering any of his questions, she merely motioned toward the table in the back. "Interrogate away."

Sethyl had to say he was disappointed. However, he overcame his sense of defeat and waited until they were seated before resting one of his ankles on his opposite knee and drumming his fingers against his leg. "The curse you suffer from...what is it?"

Frowning as he went straight to the point, Liila glanced around as though to make sure no one else was listening in. The rest of the shop and street beyond were empty. She paused to dart over to the entrance and light a few torches, to show they were still open, and then made her way back to the table, lighting a few candles on the walls as she went. She waited until she was again seated to reply. "It's a death curse, of sorts. Parts of it have been removed but originally it was made to bind me to the man who led the attack on Orgrimmar, much the same way a ghoul is bound to a death knight." She paused. "However, unlike a ghoul he wanted me alive, so his spell was more complex and required more time and…effort."

Sethyl cocked his head. "Why did he want you alive?"

Liila inspected her short, unpainted nails. "I don't remember that far back." She shrugged. "I have...amnesia. Whether it is a side effect of the curse or simply the result of being hit too hard...or something else all together, is beyond my understanding, but I cannot remember my life prior to my Scourge imprisonment."

"Oh." Sethyl had to say he felt kind of like a dick, though he paused as he considered that he may have done her a favor by fixing the ring after all. Before he could bring it up, she began speaking again.

"Anyway, he'd wanted me alive. He said a few times something about defying him, but... He liked to keep me confused. He was tinkering with his runes, to try to perfect his curse and get me to submit completely to his will when Shadow saved me." Liila never referred to the death knight who had hurt her by name, he'd noticed. Perhaps she feared saying his name might somehow bring him back. She shifted in her chair and shrugged again, as though the mere memory of her imprisonment were weighing down on her, draining her. "He could have controlled me so easily if he had just risen me, but he was intent that my heart keep beating. Through any death..." When she noticed he looked ready to interrupt her again, she shrugged, suddenly looking so exhausted. Sethyl wanted to reach out and brush away her weariness and worries. "I suppose you may not have heard, but...when I die, the runes bring me back to life, though I maintain whatever injuries I had that killed me. So without heals, I die again and again. If the curse is in its dormant state, I can heal myself, depending on the injury. If it's active—"

"I don't need to hear anymore," Sethyl whispered. What had he expected her to tell him about the curse? That it would all be fun and mishaps, the way her life seemed to be now, in Impervious? He debated whether he ought to even ask about the bet. Margaret had mentioned that Liila had been pissed off about something, and he wondered if it might be equally depressing.

Liila however, offered that tale freely, along with the back story. "Haa'aji and I met shortly after Shadow saved me, and the two of us made our way out of the Plaguelands to Tirisfal. Despite our heartbeats and some skeptical or cynical forsaken, we were accepted by them and when they joined the Horde, we did as well."

"So then...Haa'aji is an Ama—"

"That is his story to tell, should he find himself in a talkative mood," Liila held up her hand to silence his protests. She let it drop back to the table with a dull thud after Sethyl closed his mouth. "When rumor spread that the sin'dorei were joining the Horde, Haa'aji and a few others teased that I would be running off with some elf to regain my heritage. We didn't really understand the full extent of the hatred the sin'dorei hold for the quel'dorei, though I sometimes wonder if I really count as the latter anymore..."

She trailed off as she wound a lock of hair around her fingers, staring off into space. Margaret's braids still punctuated her hair and gave her a trollish look. "I was excited to meet my own kind. After all, I can't remember what it was like to live with other elves. I was nearly cut down for it. It pissed me off. Haa'aji didn't like how much energy I was wasting on the whole matter and offered up the bet. No emotions for a year."

"So then...you lost the bet?" If it was centered around the sin'dorei, then it definitely hadn't been a year since the bet's start.

"I did," Liila muttered. "I let myself snap when that man escaped..."

"That seems a little unfair," Sethyl objected on her behalf. As she arched an eyebrow, he scratched the back of his head. "I mean...that seems a bit extreme of a bet if you weren't supposed to get angry at the man who tortured you."

"I was allowed to get as angry as I wanted. I shouldn't have shown it."

When Liila didn't offer any further explanation, Sethyl eyed her. "So what happens now that you've lost?"

"I have to heal next raid. Whenever that may be."

"And if you'd won?"

Liila brushed a few crinkles out of her shirt. "Haa'aji would have had to heal."

"Haa'aji is a rogue."

"And?" She looked back at him. "I am a shadow priest."

"But...you'll go holy or discipline for healing," Sethyl frowned. It hadn't been that long since he himself had been a priest.

The corners of Liila's lips turned up into a rather mischievous smile for a mere second before her expression blanked, and she shrugged. "I still wish Haa'aji had lost. It would have been fun to see him running around bandaging everyone."

Sethyl didn't bother to reply to that. There was obviously a difference in opinion regarding the word 'fun'. Their conversation was put on hold when a few trolls sauntered into the shop and called out brief hellos. They went straight to Liila with their requests for potions, as the shelves they normally cleared were still empty. The small high elf scribbled down a few things and then nodded to them, telling them to come back in the morning and apologizing for the delay. The trolls merely laughed it off and headed back out.

As Liila came back by, she tapped Sethyl's shoulder and motioned for him to follow her into the back room. It turned out to be a bit bigger than Sethyl had thought it would be, and it was filled with empty vials and an alchemy station. One wall was entirely boxes of herbs. Sethyl leaned in the doorway as Liila rummaged through a few boxes and brought them over to the alchemy table. "If anyone comes in, please let me know."

Sethyl nodded and repositioned himself so that he could see the shop, even though he doubted he'd need to. He'd probably hear anyone come in. "If you have no memories..." He trailed off as she glanced at him and then went back to her work. "Well, about your name—"

"Haa'aji and Timmons named me," Liila spoke quickly, snapping a bud in half with extra force.

Sethyl cocked his head. "What's your real name, then?"

"As with every other detail of my life before my imprisonment by the Scourge, I do not know."

"Really? There's nothing rattling around in that head of yours?" Sethyl blinked, slightly surprised. While, sure, she'd been a lifeless irritation when he'd first met her, her underlying sense of humor and ability to screw with him had sort of made him think that she couldn't have so miserable a past. Or perhaps that was what drove her to have so much 'fun' now? The two were silent for a long, quiet moment, with Liila carefully tending to her potions, before she finally sighed.

"No."

"What?"

She glared at him, annoyed he hadn't kept up with the conversation. "I...do have two memories, though they're just...scraps."

Sethyl's ears perked up, and Liila glanced around to the shop, half expecting to see someone standing there. When she saw it was empty, she realized his actions had been in curiosity.

"What are they?" Even as he asked, he suddenly felt nosy. Like he was taking advantage of their deal.

Liila eyed him before shrugging. "Love and betrayal."

Despite wanting to ask further, Sethyl stopped himself. She'd kept her end of their deal, and he could see that their conversation was making her uncomfortable. The two stood in silence for another eternity before he finally ran his fingers through his messy hair—his spikes were haphazard at best anyway—and looked back at her. "So then...If you're free from your curse—"

"I'm not completely free. Not yet," Liila sighed. "It's in progress, though."

"In progress?"

Even as Sethyl echoed the words, Liila set the potion she was working on down, and her fingers closed around the edge of one of her sleeves. However, she seemed to think better of whatever she was planning on doing and merely tugged her sleeve down further so that it nearly engulfed her hand. "Part of the curse has been dismantled, but other parts remain intact."

"It's odd that you'd be able to break some of the curse, but not all of it."

"I call it a curse, but really, it's more like dozens that were just combined loosely through death runes. They have to be active to be broken," Liila returned her attention to her work. "When I die, they all activate, though I don't know which ones bring me back to life. If the wrong ones are dismantled, and I were killed again to remove another section of the curse, I wouldn't come back and four years would be wasted."

Sethyl offered an awkward apology for having suggested it, though she merely shrugged in response. He glanced around, slowly. "Well...there's major progress with your curse, and your bet is over, so why are you still so..."

As he searched for the right word, Liila lit a few burners and began to fill several vials with varying amounts of water. She dropped a few leaves into a small, dry bowl and began to crush them into a fine powder. "Why am I not as bubbly as Margaret or as expressive as Haa'aji?" Liila offered for him.

It wasn't quite how he would have put it, but he shrugged. "Yeah."

"Gregor and Gore told me to behave, so I am."

Sethyl arched his eyebrows. "Come again?"

"When the elves joined the Horde," Liila replied slowly, before abruptly frowning and shoving the bowl toward Sethyl. "Crush these. I need to get started on the blindweed." As Sethyl obliged her, pausing to glance toward the door again, she returned to answering his question. "Many of us have fun with people. We like to play around, and we've upset more than a few. I'm sure you've heard reference to Haa'aji, Shadow, and I being banned from Undercity, for instance. Gore did not want us to upset our new allies. So we were told to behave."

As Sethyl considered some of the things they'd done, he cocked his head. However, she tapped the table beside the bowl she'd given him, and he quickly went back to work. "If stealing a void reaver and telling people I hit you was behaving, what exactly would be you misbehaving?"

"Oh, you know," Liila rolled her eyes dramatically as she considered examples. Sethyl had to smile when he saw her finally acting like a living, breathing creature, but kept his thoughts to himself. "Stealing a sentry from Silvermoon, seeing how flammable your trees are, kidnapping those cats that Whisper says walk your streets, rewriting some people's spells, stealing books, pulling the elven warlock coven into a coven war, finding out if your magisters really fire proof their eyebrows while studying combustible magics, getting Lor'themar drunk and blackmailing him with the fact that he slept with a high elf, mentioning certain secrets to certain people to make them uncomfortable—"

"You'd sleep with Lor'themar just to blackmail him?" Sethyl had to fight back a laugh.

"If he's drunk enough, he wouldn't know what he did," Liila replied, shrugging. Liila paused, abruptly eyeing Sethyl. "It's not that we would actually do such things...our guild leaders just have no faith in us."

"Of course," Sethyl mused. He finished crushing the leaves, and Liila pulled the bowl away from him, separating the contents into a few neat piles on the table and then pouring them into different vials. "And these warnings to behave just came out of the blue, I suppose?"

"There may have been an incident with Ambassador Dawnsinger." Liila paused to look at him. "You might not want to tell her you're in our guild, by the way."

"What happened?"

"I was not actually there for that, so it's not my story to tell," Liila finished with her blindsweed and gathered a few diced buds in one hand and a stopper in the other. She carefully tossed the plant parts into one of the vials and capped it as smoke bloomed up toward her fingers. She shook the vial slowly, mixing the gases back into the liquid. "However, I will say that Haa'aji thought she was being a bitch."

"Why?"

"She was siding with one of your pally pals," Liila muttered, setting the vial down and then repeating her actions with the next four. "Captain Dawnsedge, I believe. Honestly, I don't remember, and he's not here in Orgrimmar anymore, so I don't care. He felt he should be allowed to cut me down merely for asking him a question."

"What was the question?"

"If he would help me find out who I was before I lost my memories," Liila replied, abruptly losing interest in the conversation. She pulled out a few dried leaves and began to crumble them.

However, the damage had been done, so to speak. Sethyl's attention had been drawn back to her amnesia, and his ears perked up as he reached back into his pocket. He held it out to her, a half smile replacing his usual irritation. Liila started to reach for it and then jerked her hand back to threw a few caps on several potions that were threatening to bubble over. He realized she must have added that leaf while he wasn't paying attention.

"This is yours. I…I should have given it back to you earlier, but, well..."

His voice trailed off as she reached up and took her ring from his hand. She flipped it over a few times, though she made no attempt to put it back on. Sethyl watched her inspect the jewelry before jolting to his senses and rummaging through one of his satchels. He pulled out a thin gold chain and offered it to her. "I forgot you wear it around your neck."

She took the chain, somewhat reluctantly. When he cleared his throat, for a second he thought he saw a look of dread on her face. He dismissed it as his own nerves playing tricks on him and motioned toward her ring. "I went back to my father's shop to get the proper materials to fix it..." He figured he would just make something up about elven tempering or some such if she asked why he couldn't have repaired it in Orgrimmar. She didn't. "And, well, I was working on it that night when an elf came in and…he recognized the crest on it...on your ring." It dawned on him that she would probably be as clueless about her ring as he had been when he first looked up its owner. "It turns out it's not a family crest, but rather one for a small sect of the priesthood, who studied under a Keyl Lightsarrow."

Liila didn't move. By the light, for a moment he thought she might not be breathing. Sethyl shifted his weight. "Well, he's a magister, and he thinks you might have been one of his pupils."

When Liila still didn't respond, he frowned. He'd thought she might be nervous, but had hoped for enthusiasm. After all, she couldn't remember who she was. This was a lead. "I know that people are turning their attentions toward the Lich King, but we still have some time before most think we should head out to Northrend, so...I bet Genji would give us a port to Silvermoon, and we could talk to him." He paused. "I mean, I won't go with you, if you don't want me to...I just remember where he said he lives. I suppose I could write it down for you."

"He just...came into your shop while you were repairing the ring?" Liila finally asked.

Sethyl's frown deepened. Okay, so he hadn't. Sethyl had restored the crest, seen that the notes regarding that crest indicated that it didn't belong to an actual family, gone to the registrar, and had tracked the magister down. She was missing the point. "What does it matter how he saw it?"

"So," Liila said, turning the ring over in her hands as she inspected it. Her only memories of the accessory were of the mangled piece of metal that Haa'aji had taken off her finger while they'd traveled through the Plaguelands together. She still didn't know why she'd kept it as she had. "You want me to go with you to the capital of a people whose general response to seeing me is to try to kill me...because on some chance encounter an elf said he recognized the crest on the ring I was carrying around...which, I might add, might not even really be mine." She'd seen Bloodsworn switch jewelry around on his other victims so that it was almost impossible to identify any bodies that might turn up. She doubted she was any different.

Sethyl felt indignant. "I won't let anyone hurt you." As she turned her unreadable gaze toward him, he shifted uncomfortably. "After all, we're guild mates."

Even as she stared at him, they heard the sound of boots entering the shop. After a pause, Wren's cheerful voice greeted them. He popped his head into the back room, freezing momentarily as he saw it was Liila Sethyl was talking to and not Whisper. His hair was sticking to his neck and shoulders, and he looked ready to pass out. "What's going on?"

"Sethyl may have found someone who knew me before I was taken by the Scourge," Liila replied, her voice calm, though Sethyl had a feeling that she was anything but. Sethyl offered Wren a quick explanation of Liila's amnesia, though he cut himself off near the end when he realized she was glaring at him, as though she hadn't expected him to go around telling everyone what he'd worked so hard to learn.

Wren seemed oblivious of the tension, as usual. "So…when are you meeting him?"

"I don't know." Liila abruptly shrugged and slipped past the two, sauntering to the small table in the back of the shop. She slipped her ring onto the chain Sethyl had given her and let it dangle from her fingers.

Sethyl felt somehow trapped by the action. "If you don't want to go, don't."

Liila stepped past the table to adjust a few potions on the shelves, apparently done with her order for the time being. When she was finished, she stepped away from the shelf, inspected it, and then turned back to Sethyl. "I do not wish to seem ungrateful for your efforts, but I would have preferred you ask me before taking my ring and…fixing it."

As Sethyl floundered between apologizing or defending his actions, Wren merely offered his hand and then inspected the ring himself. He vaguely recognized it, probably from one of the many, many, many women his brother took home with him. He handed the ring back to Liila.

"While he probably should have asked, isn't this good?" Wren shrugged. "You can find out who you were."

Liila looked away from them, her lips forming a thin line that seemed strained, as though her quiet demeanor were fighting back emotions that wanted to violently free themselves. "I don't remember the beginning of my imprisonment, but I know I was held captive for at least seven months, if not longer." She looked back down at the ring, her eyes looking a few shades darker than they usually did. For a moment, they didn't think she would say anything else, though she finally shrugged and slipped the necklace on. "Please understand that I have mixed feelings about my life before my curse."

"Meh gods, mon! Liila be speakin' moa den two wo'ds at a time!"

Sethyl and Wren looked past her to see Haa'aji, Enlyhn, and Timmons standing in the doorway. Timmons strode up to Liila, a smirk in place. "It's so cute that you actually talk to them now."

The hint of a glare flickered across her face before she abruptly slung herself over Timmons' shoulders as he turned to head toward the guild hall. The warlock stilled as Liila leaned her head against his and patted his hood. "Shall I say a prayer for you?"

"Do you want a third curse?" Timmons muttered, smirk gone.

Liila wrapped her arms around his neck and swayed to the side, tipping the warlock off his balance. "I think you like me too much to do that."

"What's the second curse?" Sethyl asked before he could stop himself.

Liila shrugged, still leaning against Timmons. "You'll have to be more than just an escort if you want to hear all of my secrets."

Timmons lightly gripped the rim of his hood as it threatened to pull back from his harasser's actions. "Haa'aji. Control your woman."

"'N do wat, mon? Send ha ta de kitchen? She'd kill us all wit' dat poison she calls food." Haa'aji abruptly darted over and ducked down behind Wren and Sethyl, as though to use them as shields. However, Liila made no attempt to go after him, merely narrowing her eyes as the blue hue to them darkened slightly. Wren and Sethyl glanced at one another, wondering what exactly was going on. Haa'aji shrugged and slung and arm over each of their shoulders, apparently no longer worried about repercussions for his comments. He twitched when a few shadows slithered across his skin and flicked his ear. Releasing Sethyl, he pulled out one of his daggers and held it as though he were about to throw it.

"Ah be watchin' ya, wooman."

"Watch all you want. It won't save you."

Liila moved so that Timmons was in Haa'aji's way, and the warlock glanced over his shoulder irritably, as though used to being used as a meat shield. "If my robe gets ruined by either of you, I'm burning this shop down."

Enlyhn examined a few potions as he interrupted the odd standoff. "Can you guys at least wait until the elves and I are gone before you get yourselves banned from Orgrimmar?"

"Like either of them really want to be here," Liila said calmly. As she turned to walk back toward the lab, Haa'aji's dagger flew past her face, almost hitting her nose, and embedded itself in the wall behind her, right next to a potion.

"If you break anything, Sham's gonna be asking you about Vivi," Liila crossed her arms and stood where he could hit her easily.

Enlyhn walked to the door to the guild hall and swung it open. "Well, that's my cue to leave. You comin'?" He looked over his shoulder at Timmons, though his fellow warlock merely waved him to go ahead.

Wren had wanted to follow after Enlyhn, but at the same time, he felt trapped under Haa'aji's arm. He glanced up at the troll to see he was watching him. However, even as Timmons asked if Vivi was their void reaver, and Liila nodded, Haa'aji released Wren and sauntered over to retrieve his dagger.

"Neway," He looked over at Liila. "We doin' dat road trip ta Silvamoon a nah?"

Sethyl froze. "Wait, what?" He looked at Liila. "You were already planning on going to Silvermoon?"

"Nah," Timmons shook his head. "We just heard you talking as we were coming up."

The paladin frowned. He was growing too used to hearing so many people moving around at once that he seemed to be losing his edge when it came to identifying who he might know or who was headed specifically toward him...but then, he hadn't really been trying.

"I'm not going to Silvermoon." Even as Sethyl and Timmons both protested, suddenly serious, Liila shrugged. "It would be like Timmons walking into Stormwind."

Wren perked up, almost forgetting how uneasy Haa'aji made him feel. "What if we told them you were coming and made sure you could speak with whoever you need without being harassed or persecuted?"

Timmons grinned as Liila frowned. "They're slowly whittling away your excuses for not going back home."

"My home is here," Liila snapped before she could stop herself. Timmons merely laughed and tousled her hair before heading to the guild hall after Enlyhn. Liila stood silent for a moment before giving in. She looked from Sethyl to Wren and back. "If you can get me an assurance that I will not be attacked...and make sure that a few of our guild mates can come along, I'll go with you."

Haa'aji frowned. "Well, damn, wooman. Dat sound like it gon ta be takin' time 'n Ah nah be havin' much a dat. Ah got business in Da'nasus 'n gon ta be gone fa a decen' while afta tamorra."

Even as Sethyl tried to ask if the troll had really meant the kaldorei capital and not some horde establishment with a similar name—he couldn't think of any, but found it hard to believe the troll would go to the damned elves' tree for anything, even an assassination or scouting mission—the high elf wished her friend well, and Haa'aji sauntered off.

Wren walked up and lightly tapped Sethyl's shoulder. "If you'd like my help, the captain of the guard owes me a favor." Honestly, Wren hadn't really spent much time around Liila and the little that he had she'd been mostly silent. However, she was so completely accepted by their senior guild mates that if doubted she could really be an Alliance spy. That was good enough of an assurance for him.

And more importantly, despite wanting to cut off as many ties from his family as he could, years ago he'd been caught up in some rather ridiculous circumstances that had led to him saving the captain of the guard, an elf who, for whatever reason, had earned his brother's ire. To be free of that tie would be one less thing for Adrias to hold against him. If he could get rid of that, he'd be one step closer to being a free elf. "If we can convince him to let you into Silvermoon for a few days, he'd probably be able to get word out to the proper authorities and perhaps even give you a guard to make sure no harm comes your way."

Forcing a smile, Sethyl wanted to strangle the damn farstrider, though he wasn't sure why. He glanced at Liila, though, and his smile became more genuine. The end result would be the same. "Sounds like a pretty good deal."

Wren nodded, as Liila tried to force a smile herself. "Great. I just need to grab a few things, and I'll head back to Silvermoon with you."

Sethyl noticed that Liila looked ready to protest their hasty departure, though when he looked more pointedly at her, she merely slipped past him and back into the lab to finish her potions.

An hour later, Sethyl leaned against the wall of the inn, staring into the streets as he waited for his fellow elf. Genji was across the way at the trade boards, inspecting different sales and offers. He'd promised that he'd be there for a good while and said for the two to just let him know when they wanted a portal home.

Was he doing the right thing? Liila had said she had conflicted emotions about finding out her past. Sethyl supposed it might be a bit scary, but she didn't seem the type to succumb easily to fear...especially considering all she'd gone through. What else would there be to stop her from wanting to know who she was?

"Lissen, mon," Haa'aji rustled Sethyl's hair, completely destroying what was left of the elf's spikes. Even as the paladin tried to salvage his appearance, the troll continued. "Me 'n Liila. We got hist'reh, yeh? Strong, deep hist'reh." Sethyl's eyes widened as he forgot his looks and stared at the troll. What was the creature trying to imply exactly? Haa'aji frowned, but didn't seem to notice the slightly disturbed look on his guild mate's face. "She be needin' a friend, Ah be dea. She be needin' a protecta, Ah be ha shield. Ah be movin' mountains fa dat gu'l, if dat's wat Ah need ta do."

The troll shook his head slowly and slung an arm over the paladin's shoulders. "Ya nah be de first mon ta come ta tink ya can come ta ha rescue."

"Is this a warning that I should keep my hands to myself?" Sethyl asked, suddenly remembering Timmons' comment about Liila being Haa'aji's woman.

"Nah, mon. If Liila comes ta fanceh ya, dat be ha choice ta let ya hands go wheaeva she wan' dem to," He grinned as Sethyl's ears turned a shade redder. "Howevea, Ah do got two warnin's fa ya. De first: de moa interes' ya be showin' in Liila, de moa certain sumbodehs be watchin' ya fa a screw up."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sethyl frowned, almost forgetting his earlier embarrassment.

"It be meanin' dat it be easeh ta resign yaself ta knowin' ya can neva be wit' sumbodeh so long as dey be as loneleh as ya. When dey start ta find solace in anotha, t'ough...dat be breedin' jealouseh."

"Who else has a thing for Liila?" Sethyl paused and coughed into his hand, his ears getting redder again. "I mean, not that I do. I'm just curious."

Haa'aji merely grinned and patted his shoulder. "De second warnin'..." The troll turned Sethyl to face him and leaned his forehead against the elf's, his tusks on either side of Sethyl's face. "If a singal tea falls cause a sumtin' ya did ta ha, Ah kill ya mon." He pulled back and grinned. "We good?"