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He received the letter, an anxious Dellis glad to see the hint of a smile in his master's face. He could not go it alone, not where they were headed. Koudo. She had been to the human capital city before, at his insistence no less, perhaps she and her ilk could be of aid.

" Irilin. I know where he is. If you have no love for me that is fine. But he is innocent and I know where we can find him. Within Stormwind City. Koudo you've been there once, you know what it is like."

Koudo closes her eyes, her face darkening, "It will be rough."

"That does not concern me. We must be quick. He is not safe there."

Gath'Jin snorts quietly. Trenetir knew there was neither friendship nor the semblance of it between the trio of unlikely companions. They were gathered outside the Undercity, Trenetir's insistant. "From within the city we can take a bat to Hammerfall."

Koudo squares her jaw and looks over her shoulder, "Gath are you going?"

"From there, the ride is hard and fast to Ironforge. From Ironforge our path is a quick one, through the city and their tram or what not, until we are in Stormwind." He continued to rattle off a plan not willing to take No for an answer.

Gath' Jin assures Koudo quietly, "Dat elf be neetin' someone dare he ken trust, aye?"

Koudo nods to Trenetir and Gath, "Then I will go as Gath's shield"

"Take the bat in the city to Hammerfall."

Lucy leans over and preens Koudo's hair.
---
Stormwind. It was here that they would find Irilin, left to die in the depths of a tavern of ill repute. Trenetir, Koudo and Gath'Jin stormed past some rather put out looking customers, none of whom gave chase, perhaps this was the norm in the Slaughtered Lamb?

It was Gath'Jin who spoke first as they descended into the catacombs," Was dis place?" The fel runes upon the floor illuminating the small room. Irilin lay apparently unonscious upon the stone floor. His body was riddled with cuts, his eyes blackened.

Trenetir looked around at the summoning circle, his gaze falling upon the form across the way, "I... I don't know."

Gath'Jin glances at Koudo, concerned.

Irilin 's brow is drenched in fevered sweat. His face is swolen. His breathing is almost imperceptible.

Trenetir knet before Irilin offering his coat to him as he lay there huddled, "Help." His voice cracked as he spoke to the others.

Koudo eyes narrow.

"I got some rough banjiz in my bag." Gath shakes his head, "But I no healer ta be makin' juice for him, no." Gath'Jin leans over to get a close look at Irilin and his condition.

Trenetir's voice cracked, he was no healer, "Help him, please."

Gath'jin reaches across and lays the back of his hand, gently, on the side of Iri's face.He shakes his head. "Fevert."

Irilin's trademark tattoo has vanished. Black crosses over his eyes where his veins would be. The skin around them is puffy and swolen, a slightly sickly hue to it.

Gath'Jin sits back in a crouch, thinking. "Dis not goot."

Trenetir is a fool lost in love and pain, "Fever? I have something for that." He offers the salve to Gath'Jin who doesn't take it.

"Was in dat?"

"It heals, mends wounds. Is he safe to travel? "

Gath'Jin is hesitant to take it, and answers, "Doon tink so in dis condition." He calls out: "Lutzy!"

"I need to get him home. I can take care of him at home."

Gath'Jin pulls a pack off Lucy's back and rugmmages through it. He snorts.

Trenetir does not hide the tears that fall from his eyes as his hand rests upon Irilin's cheek. He does not move far from him.

" Dis be his lucky day." Gath'Jin says as he draws a small jug out.

Koudo watches the stairs, her face dark and back turned.

"What is that?"

Gath'Jin draws a shrunken head out of his pack as well.

Trenetir glares at Gath at the sight of the shrunken head, "Help me get him home."

" Sum Jungle Remdy, dis." He taps the cork of the bottle. "Goot foh drawing poisons an' foul humors out. May get his swellin' doon enuff ta moof him."

Trenetir was vulnearable, his hand resting upon Irilin's cheek. "It's going to be okay. We're going to get you home."

Gath'Jin sets the head down to uncork the jug, and says to Tren," Choo get him turnt bit so I ken get him dis drink, you."

Trenetir tries to turn Irilin so that he can partake of the drink, "Irilin, it's going to be okay. We're going home."

As Gath uncorks the jug, an earthy, unpleasant odor suffuses the area.

Koudo grinds her teeth listening

"Whatever it takes Gath."

Gath'Jin quietly and calmly requests: "Choo keep talkin' ta him, Tren, choo; hearin' a voice migh' brink him 'rount. Heshakes the shrunken head over Iri's swollen face, then sets it aside.

Trenetir spoke quietly, "We'll build you a library of your own, a place where you can write without care."

Gath'Jin then lifts the jug and tilts it to Iri's lips. He is careful to pour slowly, just a dribble to start.

"Drink Irilin and then you can come home."

Gath'Jin sets the jug down and again shakes the Shrunken Head over Iri's face while muttering in troll. " Dim sca im atuad deh sca im saakes"

Irilin swallows slightly, most of the liquid dribbling out of his mouth. He sputters, and an arm flies out suddenly, involuntarily as he coughs.

Gath'Jin leans away from the arm, "Goot goot." He sets Iri's arm down gently on the stone.

Irilin begins to breathe slightly more deeply, though it still almost looks like he's not breathing at all. One of his ears twiches slightly.

Gath'jin nods. He is keenly watching Iri for any responses and is pleased with what he sees.

Trenetir spoke quietly to Irilin, his voice bordering on melodic, "Our time is not through. There is much left for us to do." He rested a hand upon his shoulder, "Relax, and breath slow."

Gath'Jin sets the head down and goes to give Iri another sip. "We gotta get his swellin' doon some, so eyes can be seein' if he ken be mooft."

Irilin holds up a hand in the general direction of Gath's voice.

Gath'Jin asks Tren with a still calm and slow voice: "and how joo be plannin' on moofin' him, eh?" He is particularly watching for any reactions of Iri against Tren; this reach has him a little concerned.

Trenetir held out the nodes, they hummed in both his hands, illuminating the area, "I would put these on him and he would be taken to my home."

"Goot. Da less he be mooft da betteh; doon tink he up for a horse rite."

Trenetir looked to Gathjin, "May I then? It is better he is there than here in unsafe lands."

Gath'Jin looks at Tren sternly. "Not jet, choo. Patience. Got ta be checkin' him for any inchoories." He waits several minutes for the jungle remedy to take effect, giving occasional sips to Iri.

Gathjin very gently runs his hands down each of Iri's arms and satisfied they are whole, he checks both legs.

"Please may I take him home? We've been through a lot."

" Looks whole, cept da rough'ed up bits ya ken see. And da swellin' ain' goin' doon as fass as I'd like ta see. Prolly not the bess medicine for what ails him." Gath'Jin takes a quick look back at Koudo.

"The swelling... what do you mean?"

Koudo shrugs "I am no healer. If he can be moved then move him. It makes no difference to me"

Gath'Jin spoke to Tren, "Da Junkul Remdy did nah take da swellin' doon; it goot foh poisons - fair foh some bat humors. What effer he got, ain't dem."

Trenetir didn't need to be told twice, he placed the nodes on Irilin, eight in total.

"Choo be careful wit him; get him doctah real quick like. "

"Thank you both."

" I be checkin' up on him. Soon." Gath'Jin warns Tren with his last statements, though said in a calm voice to not upset Iri.

Trenetir activated the nodes, transporting both himself and Irilin with the activation.

That woman and her curses. Fortunately, Irilin was familiar with this type, and once Trenetir had found a mage, it wasn't hard to lift it. Of course, the curse wasn't the only problem, but Irilin was optimistic that he'd be able to cope.

In fact, once the curse had been cleared, he was sure that he was ready to go back out into the world. While Trenetir was kind enough to share his quarters, they were small and dark. Of course, just as Irilin thought he was ready, he fell asleep leaning against Trenetir. He slept much longer than he'd anticipated, but the rest was probably warranted.

Taking things slowly allowed Irilin the opportunity to adjust to his newfound challenges. Even if he opened his eyes, he saw nothing; it was as though his vision had been painted the darkest black, where neither light nor image could reach him. While he had been acutely aware of how the cursed infection had moved across his face, he had no idea what the results looked like.

Writing became much harder. Years of practising, being able to write neatly, quickly, and in even lines on the page were erased. He was assured that his script was still legible, but to what degree, he could not tell. He sat with parchment, feeling its dimensions, trying to gauge its orientation, but no matter how much he tried, writing without seeing was a greater hindrance than he'd expected.

Trenetir, being as overly protective as always, was hesitant to take him far beyond the chamber, which left Irilin spending much time just sitting. Trenetir would take him on strolls through a nearby garden, but not much farther. He worried about another attack, and perhaps it wasn't as far-fetched as Irilin imagined it. Irilin would not live his life in fear, though, for that would be no existence at all.

Irilin tried to remember everything he'd learned from the Forsaken who had trained him as a rogue. A lack of one sense did not diminish the others, and so long as most were intact, there was always the possibility of persevering. Irilin began listening to his surroundings: the quiet steps of Dellis as he went about his duties, the hard footfalls of Treneir. He listened to their breathing, their heartbeats, the motions of their actions. He experimented with his own surroundings, testing the sounds of snapping at various distances and directions.

There would be much to learn, but at least, he thought, he would be able to move around on his own.