World of Warcraft®

A pervasive, encompassing darkness clouded Mormel’s mind as she slept. It obfuscated every image, ever memory, every sense of self that she had. The only things that pierced this thick blackness was the occasional nightmarish imagery. A horrifying creature with a multitude of eyes and a massive, gaping maw. The imposing sight of a mountain as black as midnight and wreathed in a blazing green fire. Finally, the unblinking gaze of a single, massive eye that pulsated with an orange glow.

With a brief scream Mormel abruptly awoke. Cold perspiration clung to her face as she took several deep, frantic breaths. The morning rays of the sun rising over Booty Bay flickered through the window of Myzzi’s bedroom. Or at least that’s who the woman called Kezrin said this room had once belonged to. Mormel had been told this home was not where she had previously lived but that fact did not trouble her. She felt comforted knowing that, here at least, she was not alone since Kezrin was just in the other room.

As Mormel heaved a heavy sigh she began to drag herself out of bed. In doing so she nearly knocked over a siamese cat that had curled up next to her. It was the very same cat that had insisted it travel with her when she departed for Kezrin’s home. The feline was quick to leap out of Mormel’s way and off of the bed before stretching all four of her legs upon the wooden floor. With a forced smile Mormel leaned over to rub the cat’s head as it purred affectionately. While Mormel was incapable of feeling anything as she looked down at this creature there was no doubt they had shared a deep connection in the past.

A ray of sunlight bouncing off of a small mirror in the corner of the room caught Mormel’s attention. She briefly hesitated before she approached it to see what kind of person stared back at her. As she drew near the image of a dark skinned goblin woman with black hair and wearing a white nightgown came into focus. This person looked attractive or, at least, Mormel thought she looked attractive but she really had no basis to make such a judgment. Instead, she focused on the violet colored eyes that stared back at her. She knew nothing of this woman she saw in the mirror. In fact if it was not for those people that took care of her when she first opened her eyes last night she wouldn’t have even known her own name. They said they were her friends and the one called Rhazin even stated he had been far more than that to her but… she just could not remember.

“Just who are you Mormel?”

Mormel asked with no small amount melancholy in her voice.

The more Mormel tugged on the black dress she wore the more uncomfortable it became. While she certainly appreciated Kezrin loaning it to her the reality was the dress was not trimmed to fit her figure. It was far too loose in the waist while being too tight in the chest. The dress was also made out of a heavy material and covered almost all of her body which made it quite warm to wear out in the sun of the Cape of Stranglethorn.

As Mormel finally relented in her struggle with the dress she resumed walking down the pier of Booty Bay. She had just finished having breakfast with the goblin called Swizelle who kept insisting that they had been good friends and some “eyeball demon freakoid” was responsible for stealing her memories. However, despite how hard Mormel tried she just could not recall anything prior to the events of last night. Thus, their meal had been a largely silent and even uncomfortable experience as Swizelle kept looking upon Mormel with a mixture of emotions ranging from sadness to frustration.

Feeling the warm sea air blow against her skin Mormel paused for a moment to look out at the ocean. The cat that had been following her all day, which Mormel learned from Swizelle was called Miss Softpaws and her “bestest buddy ever“, also stopped in her tracks. Mormel softly bit her lip as she gazed out at the endless blue horizon. It was as blank and empty as she felt on the inside. Who was she? Will she ever become that person again? Would she even want to become that person again?

Such questions continued to dominate Mormel’s thoughts as she returned to Kezrin’s house and took a seat on one of the pillows tucked away in a corner. As Miss Softpaws curled up in Mormel’s lap she stared blankly at all the books that lined the shelves wondering what the future held for her. Perhaps some would view this as a blessing? Being able to start your life again anew, washing away all pain of your past could certainly be appealing to some. But… Mormel felt simply wrong. Like she was incomplete and had lost something that she desperately needed to regain in order to become whole again.

Mormel leaned over and pulled a book off one of the shelves. It was a romance novel and she remembered Swizelle mentioning last night that her old self used to love reading these books. Thus, Mormel did her best to enjoy and become immersed in the story even though she found this particular tale of a chaste prince riding off to slay a dragon in order to rescue a chaste princess to be dreadfully boring.

With a dissatisfied grunt Mormel returned the book to its place on the shelf and stared at the ceiling. She was lonely and wondered when Kezrin would return home from her job at something called the “AAMS”. Mormel did not know exactly why but she felt more comfortable, even reassured, when Kezrin was around. There was something about the way Kezrin looked at her. It was… different than the look in Swizelle’s eyes.

Mormel sighed and pulled another romance novel off the shelf to read. She needed to do something on her own to try and regain her memories. Thus, if she used to enjoy these terrible books then they were as good a place to start as any.

Bragdus chuckled as he surveyed with his multitude of eyes the dozens of cursed artifacts he had recently crafted. The observer relished in the reality that every one of these items was capable of imprinting a completely different set of memories and, therefore, identity on any unfortunate mortal that came into contact with them. Of course, that was assuming they were a blank slate devoid of all their own memories first. Fortunately Bragdus was entirely capable of making that little prerequisite a reality.

As Bragdus used a tentacle to examine one of his latest creations he heaved an exuberant sigh of relief. After years of painstaking research and patience his efforts had finally been rewarded. What had started as a simple curse to efficiently acquire knowledge by directly stealing it from the minds of mortals had now grown into so much more. The demon was nearly giddy with excitement at the possibilities that were now open to him after his resounding success with his former mistress Mormel.

Yes, the mere thought of that despicable warlock made Bragdus grind his massive teeth together. All the abuse and humiliation he had to endure at that little goblin’s hands had nearly proven too much at times. However, Mormel was an ideal test subject since she was a fairly powerful warlock with a rather weak will. All Bragdus needed to do was wait until she was sufficiently weakened physically, emotionally and mentally before he absorbed her memories. After months of constantly speeding to her side whenever the observer detected even the slightest spike in his mistress’ distress he finally found the golden opportunity last night as Mormel lay writhing in pain, delirious and half alive from a slow poison.

As expected, Mormel’s pathetically loyal little friends were able to cure the poison but not until after Bragdus had gotten what he wanted. His only wish was that he would have had more time to turn his former mistress into an idealized version of himself before he was so rudely interrupted by those meddlesome goblins and that blood knight at the Hand of Gul’dan. Regardless, Mormel was proof that his theory worked and how close to death she came at the hands of her friends almost made their unexpected interruption worth it. If only one of them during the battle had not gotten a lucky blow on that cursed circlet he had placed on Mormel…

Bragdus scoffed. It didn’t matter. Mormel was now a useless, empty vessel that had served her purpose. He had much bigger plans to set in motion. There were far more memories to steal, knowledge to gain, identities to alter, and science to be done! No one would be capable of thwarting him now!

“And I do believe my next test subject shall prove especially entertaining.”

The meeting with the bossgnome.... had gone better than expected. The two had sat amicably on Derscha's office floor, and the gnome had listened patiently while Kezrin stammered through what had happened the previous night. She could see the gnome twitch now and then, and suspected Derscha was holding back from hugging her. She was grateful for that.

"Is it possible it's the same type of curse you received?" Derscha questioned. "And her memories could still be there?"

"I dunno," Kezrin shook her head. "I only lost some of my memories... she seems ta have lost 'em all."

She was given the day off - with firm admonishments to take care of the dark circle under eyes - but she couldn't bring herself to go back home and see Mormel. Instead, she headed downstairs to the common area to appropriate a cot; she hadn't been able to sleep soundly, but the white noise of people working would do a lot to block out all her unpleasant thoughts. She laid in a cot, staring at the AAMS ceiling.

She couldn't avoid Mormel forever; never mind she was staying at her house, the other goblin needed support. Kezrin at least had Myzzi to be her pillar of stability after losing the past year of her life. Though, Mormel did have Rhazin and Swizelle, who knew more about her than Kezrin did...

Kez flopped over with a frustrated sigh. Why was she always running away from warlocks? Her eyes rested on the corner of the room where she'd hidden the night before when Bragdus had shown up. She had cowered in the corner behind a storage chest, trying to block the sights and sounds of a demon from triggering any more quite literally painful flashbacks.

There was a little card sitting on the chest. Curious, she slid off the cot and peered at it. The demon... carried business cards? She pulled out one of her white handkerchiefs to pick it up and pocketed it. Who knew if it'd be useful. It might have been useful last night, when they were looking for Mormel.

There was one thing she could do before going home, she realized. Swizzelle was likely conferring with Zurom on warlocky matters, but Kezrin knew there was another warlock out there who had experience with memory curses. While she was not about to contact Zenik Silvertip, it was worth a shot trying to find Renzly.

And the search would give her an excuse to put off facing Mormel for just that little bit longer.

“Nyah! How ya doin’?”

Mormel frowned after reciting the line at the mirror for the hundredth time. While Rhazin had told her not to push herself she nonetheless became increasingly frustrated. Even after spending half of the day practicing this goblin accent it still did not feel natural to her. Using the term “Nyah” was particularly awkward but her friends insisted it was a defining characteristic of her old self.

With a shrug of her shoulders Mormel stepped away from the mirror and walked towards a box sitting on a wooden table. After the horrifying events of last night she was no longer living at Kezrin’s home and, instead, both of them had moved into the AAMS building. While it was comforting knowing that there were all of the AAMS members around, along with Rhazin and Swizelle being only a shout away, the general atmosphere of the place was nonetheless tense. It simply was hard to feel comfortable knowing that poor Kezrin was stuck with that hexed card Bragdus had left behind. Despite all of their best efforts they could not figure out a way to get rid of that infernal thing and, thanks to its curse, that despicable demon knew Kezrin’s whereabouts every second of the day.

For a brief moment Mormel nearly burst into tears but she managed to keep control of her emotions. She just could not shake an oppressive feeling of guilt that what had happened was, in some way, her fault and she was completely powerless to do anything about it. This demon was keenly interested in Kezrin and no one knew why. Mormel’s lost memories now seemed so trivial in comparison. Yet these dire circumstances only deepened Mormel’s resolve to learn more about the person she had once been while also supporting Kezrin in any way she could.

As Mormel neared the box Miss Softpaws jumped out of it and darted off to the other end of the table. The cat then began grooming herself which caused Mormel to roll her eyes before she peered into the box. Inside were a wide assortment of books and magazines she had picked up that morning. Supposedly the romance novels Mormel had read yesterday were not really the ones her old self enjoyed. Instead, Swizelle and Kezrin both explained that she had preferred the ones with “scantily clad” pictures. Rhazin, for some strange reason, refrained from commenting on these type of books but Mormel was willing to try anything if it might jog her memory.

It was with cautious optimism that Mormel began sifting through the box’s contents. She saw such titles as The Sword of Oarwind, TestosterOrc, and Elfin Vogue. Each one showed an extremely muscular man barely wearing anything on their covers. However, just to be thorough Mormel had also picked up a few other magazines called Dancing Draenei and Gorgeous Goblin Gals which showcased busty women in… minimal attire. Mormel was not quite sure what to expect but she was nonetheless glad at how easy they were all to find in Booty Bay.

“Well… these can’t be any worse than those other romance novels.”

Mormel muttered aloud to herself before grabbing one of The Sword of Oarwind books and sitting down in a nearby chair.

Rhazin looks around as he wanders around Hearthglen making sure for the moment he's alone while approaching the training yard, though theres no doubt in his mind the guards are nearby. Not even one of his pets is around as he ordered his drakeadaon Orthros to keep an eye on both Mormel and Kezrin. Least as close as they would let the scaley beast be. Glancing about he thinks back on recent events, a scowl forming on his face as images of when Mormel was poisoned along with that observers recent trickery with Kezrin. By now he's reached the training yard which is hopefully empty as he unstraps his modified Wolfslayer Sniper Rifle Spitfire from his back. The weapon seems to have a bit more weight to it as he stares at it, his eyes taking on the look of one remembering a tough past.

He seems to take a few moments almost looking like he's about to drop it onto the ground but instead quickly turns to the targets nearby, taking careful aim before firing a series of shots at a pair of them. One a training dummy gets a single shot to the head, while a regular archery target ends up with seven, clustered around the area where an observers eyes would be. Rhazin studies the results and nods but also frowns as his arms slump glancing at the rifle in his hands again before slinging it back into its holster (or scabbard, whatever they call the ones for rifles). In the back of his mind a voice from his past comes up saying, 'Not unless its really necessary boy, remember that.' The goblin nods as he says to himself, not checking if anyone is nearby, "Yeah dad, always look for other options and hope ya don't have to go for those that are only a last resort."

Finally glancing about, he looks in the direction of the building Mormel is staying and smiles as more recent memories bring themselves up. Letting out a low chuckle as images of the goblin girl as she acted a bit more like herself as they searched the Whispering Forest for anything that would jog her memory. Even laughing a bit at the wild chase he gave that green protodrake of hers when it suddenly appeared and took off with her on his back. He starts making his way back to where Orthros is as the thought crosses his mind, 'Man probably shouldn't be laughin' at dat. But least the wild ride ended safely with her unharmed and back here.' Course he knows he would of done his best to catch her if something bad was gonna happen. Least for now she was safe and progress was being made.

His eyes narrow for a moment as he gets a look of determination on his face as he says outloud, "Whatevers holding those thoughts of hers is gonna be blown wide open and she'll be back." He finally stops by where the drakeadon is lying down, one of his heads asleep, placing a hand on the beast as he adds, "And of course gonna make sure Kezrin stays safe while that blasted demon along with whoever else is involved pays for all this. In one way or another, right boy?", the drakeadon almost seems to nod as he emits a low rumble from the head that's awake. The goblin smirks at the response before finding a spot to sit down and lean back against the beast, keeping both eyes open as he gets back on the watch.

As she sat underneath the boughs of her favorite tree, the only, insipidly stupid, thought that filled Kezrin's head was: Well, this brings back memories.

The first few weeks after she lost her memory had been spent in Hearthglen, with her sister, away from the stress and confusion of the office. Kezrin hadn't been the one who suggested it this time (that had been Ellua) but it felt as though history were repeating itself. The worst part of her history.

Her fingers tightened around the small journal in her lap. There wasn't much written in it yet, but she was steadily filling pages. The feel of the soft leather cover calmed her nerves. Even if the worse happened, everything important was written down.

She'd slipped away from Mormel again. Mormel and Rhazin could probably use more alone time together. Kezrin had never really been close to her, despite Mormel's frequent claims otherwise, or how attached to Kezrin she seemed to be now. Kezrin felt some obligation to help her, but at the same time... the other goblin was a walking embodiment of her worst fear.

The uncertainty. The headaches. The stammering, just learning how to talk like herself again...

"... because we had been an item?" The use of past tense had caught Kezrin's attention when Mormel had mentioned her relationship with Rhazin. She wondered, briefly, if Mormel even considered herself the same person. If she could be the same person again with so much missing.

What if they never got her memories back? This new Mormel was so very unlike the old one. What if she never was the Mormel they knew again?

And what if Kezrin were next?

The fel-cursed business card was sitting several feet away from her. She might not be able to get rid of it, but she wasn't keeping it any closer than necessary. She'd done some experiments to see how far she could get away before the card "found" her again, but the answer was pretty much what she expected: not far enough.

Ellua had suggested they come to Hearthglen to discourage Bragdus from appearing, even if they couldn't keep him from tracking Kezrin's location. He was interested, she knew, in studying her own memory curse to use against others. For all she knew, step one of that process would be wiping her mind, just as he had done to Mormel.

She clenched the book tighter, closing her eyes and simply concentrated on selectively blocking out the sounds around her. The distant sounds of the recruits training. The strike of a hammer at the forge. Nothing except the sound of the wind in the tree branches and the rhythm of her own breathing. Calm down.

At last, she opened her eyes and laid the journal open in her lap. Pen was pressed to paper. Kezrin didn't know how to fight a demon. She wasn't a mage, a scholar, or fighter... but was damned if she was going to let some demon take away the person she was.

Ell worked at the training dummy with a studied ferocity. Hearthglen was the last place she would have normally volunteered to go. She felt the blade sink deep into the wood and let out a satisfied grunt as she yanked it free and began again. Somewhere around here were friends; people who used to be friends, she reminded herself. The distinct lack of communication after everything that had happened had sent a clear message. There was a loud 'crack' and the wooden arm of the dummy toppled to the ground. The paladin winced. She may have been able to retain the title of Crusader, but without being active in the order, the replacement arm was going to cost her precious coin.

She took the event as a sign that she was done for the morning and headed back to the little shed she'd managed to borrow for a workshop near the smithy. No, she wouldn't have thought to bring her charges here on her own, but she had to admit that Miss Derscha, Miss Arrayah, and Brae had a point about how safe the place was likely to be for them. She hadn't known Miss Mormel before all of this mess, but upon initial assessment, she'd decided she liked the goblin well enough that keeping her and Miss Kezrin safe wouldn't be too much of a chore, either. Hex's approval had lent a spare endorsement. She had a vague sense that perhaps she shouldn't rely so heavilyon the whelp for character assessment.

She felt bad for the poor thing, too. Ell knew she was one of those most common of Azerothian varieties: someone with a boatload of memories she would gladly dump in some dark hole somewhere just to be rid of their weight. But to have them just stolen? That wasn't anything she could stomach. Troubling they may be, her memories were hers. She'd watched Mormel take assiduous notes on who she'd been, as recalled to her by her friends. She suspected that perhaps the goblin was mighty lonely and probably confused and scared to her toes. Ellua could relate better than she would like to admit.

She couldn't help in a big way, really. Sure, she could set a bone or two, or make a poultice, or punch whatever was coming in the face with a fury.... Dropped into the middle of something she didn't quiet understand, Ell still wanted to help. A sudden thought occurred to her and she reached for the top shelf, where a small tin box, much battered by time and travel, sat. No matter where Ell went, the box went, too.

Grabbing one of the few clean soft squares of wool on the table, Ell retrieved a small object from the box and wrapped it very carefully. It wasn't much of anything, but hopefully it might help somehow. She would give it to Mormel the next chance she got.

Bragdus was infuriated after listening to those mocking words from the barbed tongue of that succubus. He still found it preposterous that the she-devil and those meddlesome warlocks had managed to not only decipher the curses on the cards he had made but had also used one of them to get in contact with him. As the observer seethed with anger while floating about his nefarious lair he struggled to comprehend what sort of ramifications this would have on his plans. He had anticipated the involvement of the demonologist Zurom but the elf’s alliance with that orc warlock was unexpected. Clearly he had underestimated the resolve and resources of his foes.

While these developments were unfortunate they were not crippling. The warlocks had managed to capture Specimen 2 intact and learned far more from her than Bragdus thought possible. Thus, the demon reluctantly realized he simply needed to adjust his plans accordingly. Even if the warlocks had figured out exactly how he would abduct his invaluable Specimen 0 there was no way they could implement a countermeasure in time. Not when he was so close to finishing his preparations.

With a firm resolve Bragdus advanced towards a small crystal ball sitting on a nearby table. It glowed with a soft, eerie orange light that began to pulsate as he drew near. Merely concentrating on it for a brief moment caused the image of Kezrin to materialize within its transparent interior. She sat alone beneath a large tree, scribbling something in a leather journal which lay open upon her lap.

“Yes! My precious Specimen 0!”

Bragdus said affectionately as he rubbed a tentacle over the glass orb. She was the key to his experiment, the missing link. Once she was in his possession he would finally have all the answers he needed and could start to apply the results of his research on a larger scale. However, now that the warlocks had discovered so much about his methods he could only assume that they would be able to find his lair before he could finish his tests on Specimen 0. In other words Bragdus needed a plan that would allow him to keep a hold of Kezrin once he had obtained her.

As Bragdus continued to concentrate on the orb his field of view shifted towards the rest of Hearthglen. He grimaced upon seeing the surprisingly green scenery of the military city located in the Western Plaguelands. No doubt his opponents thought Specimen 0 would be safe in such a place but their foolish attempts to keep her from him would soon prove completely vain. As the demon surveyed the surroundings his attention was drawn to a dark haired, dark skinned goblin sitting by herself on the grass.

There was no way Bragdus could forget that familiar figure and he could not repress a feeling of disgust upon seeing his former Mistress still alive. He silently watched as Mormel flipped through an issue of Gorgeous Goblin Gals, the paladin recruits giving her disapproving looks as they marched past her. Apparently losing her memories had not erased her propensity for vulgar habits. Yet it was just then that Bragdus began to form a clever idea. As much as he loathed his former Mistress the fact these fools had kept Specimen 0 and her so close together could play to his advantage. Ironically Mormel might actually prove useful to him just one more time.

“Hey, Renz! Ya had someone lookin’ for ya!” Hopper yelled across the floor the moment Renzly stepped into the offices of The Inside Trade. He held up an envelope with her name on it. “The AAMS dropped it off.”

“Lemme guess.” She snatched the missive from his fingers, snorting at the familiar, precise handwriting. “Yep, it's her.” Still, she opened Kezrin’s letter and scanned the first few lines.

I know you don’t want to see me and have been trying to avoid me, but I have more questions that I really could use

She rolled her eyes and folded the letter back up. “I told her not ta come ta me with anymore stupid questions. S’always ‘me, me, me’ with her, really." She stuffed the letter into her camera bag.

"Hey, HOPPER!”

“WHAT?”

“If anyone else from the AAMS shows up, I ain’t here.”

“Gotcha, doll.”

She grabbed the list of assignments and set off in search of her first “target.” The photography thing was steadily growing into a larger portion of her income, to the point where Hopper had given Renzly her own desk in the building. The downside, she thought as she considered the crumpled letter, was that is made her disgustingly easy to contact.

She really ought to just throw the letter out.

Soon. There was no rush.

A couple of days later, she was crouched atop a roof in Bilgewater Harbor, taking a few shots of the bay in the evening light. She reached in for an extra roll of film and felt the edge of the paper brush against her fingers. “Hnn.” A few tugs pried it loose.

“Fine! I’ll read it!”

She smoothed the paper out on her thigh, re-reading the first few lines. And then the next few lines.

I know you don’t want to see me and have been trying to avoid me, but I have more questions that I really could use your help with. There’s this other goblin, Mormel, who has lost her memory. It was stolen by a demon. Only she’s not missing a little bit of her memory, but all of it. She’s staying with me for the moment so I can help her out.

If there’s anything you can tell us about how your father cursed me, it may help in fixing her. Or maybe if you know any demonic? The demon left behind a card I can’t read. I am sure I can convince the bossgnome to pay you for a translation.

Please reply,
Kezrin

“Why that…” Renzly fumed, reading the letter again. “That no-good, unprofitable, lying bimbo!”

Demon trouble? Yeah, she had an idea of whose fault that was. Renzly was a warlock’s daughter, not an idiot. And memory loss? Probably faking. It was very easy to imagine Mormel as a giant fake.

The trip to Booty Bay was a short one. Renzly knew where Kezrin lived. The gal still hadn’t learned how to properly lock the place up. However, the house was empty. She waited until late night, but no one came home.

The next day she decided to case the AAMS offices, but Kezrin never came by. The snippets of rumors she heard, however, were disturbing. She had left with Mormel and never come back.

"I should have burned the place down when I had the chance," Renzly muttered to herself.

Things have not gone according to plan, Zurom tired to break the curse binding Kezrin to Bragdus' business card but to no avail. With Kezrin still bond to the card he felt he had lithe choice but to face Bragdus face to face.

Upon inspecting the card once more he discovered that the summoning rune on the card would not be finished for a week. It was decided that during that time Zurom would search for Bragdus and find out his weaknesses. Knowing full well that Bragdus would instantly notice Zurom or his Succubus Nazxia if they even came close, Zurom had sent his imp named Ba Da Boom. Ba Da would be able to search outland without drawing attention. a seemingly easy task seeing as it would be hard to tell one imp from another in a place as vast as outland. Ba Da had only one week to find Bragdus, discover his weakness and report to Zurom what he found.

The fate of the curse now rested on the imps tiny shoulders.

"Tell me Specimen 0... does the name Renzly Silvertip mean anything to you? And what about her father, Zenik?"

The sensation of being tied down, the imp chattering in her ear… voices, somewhere closeby speaking in demonic… only now there were glimpses of eyes, many eyes looking down at her…

The nightmares had just gotten worse since their latest “visit” from Bragdus. Kezrin wasn’t sure anymore what was an actual memory or her imagination playing tricks on her.

It was unnerving, being constantly watched. There was the card (currently sitting five feet to her left, under a rock) that was tracking her every move, and there was also Ellua and others keeping track of her lest she suddenly disappear. Zurom believed the teleportation spell on the card would not activate for at least a few more days, but she doubted anyone wanted to take a chance.

Cane Guy. Zenik Silvertip. Renzly’s father. He had been the one who originally cursed Kezrin one fateful morning after she’d accidentally overheard him discussing his plans to ruin her family. He’d wanted to make sure she didn’t remember any of that conversation, or anything about himself. The curse had grown over time, until it began affecting her other memories and even those around her, until Raoul and Vanyris had been able to stop it.

And Bragdus had been there when she'd first received it. He had been one of Zenik’s demons, so he claimed. Now he wanted to study the results.

"So as you can see... she belonged to me a long time ago. I'm merely here to get back what's rightfully mine!"

Part of her realized that should make her hate Mormel even more. Mormel was a warlock. She had lied to her. She even shared a demon with the man who’d ruined her life.

Yet she couldn’t muster any hate toward the lost goblin. Kezrin had never been good at rationalizing feelings.

Both of them were essentially powerless to do anything; Kezrin couldn’t even run and hide. They were relying on the help of their friends to protect them and track down Bragdus. Grudgingly, she allowed Zurom to be among the list of “friends,” even if she found herself constantly on the opposite side of the room from him and his demons.

Maybe she should talk to Ellua, Kezrin considered. Or anyone else she knew who might have advice on how to fight a demon. A few days wasn’t going to teach her much, but it was better than sitting around and doing nothing.

Mormel rested her chin on her knees as she despondently stared at the mechanical bird pecking at the ground in front of her. The rugged, beaten up engineered toy had been a gift from Ellua, an old friend as she put it who was greater than the sum of its parts. As the bird flapped its little mechanical wings while strutting around Mormel could only wonder at the symbolism of such a present.

“Greater than the sum of its parts?”

With barely a whisper Mormel uttered the question to herself. Did Ellua mean that Mormel was, in a way, like this bird? That even if she was lacking her memory that was only one component of her true self? The vivid, painful flashbacks she’d been having ever since Zurom used what he claimed was her original “soul stone” on herself had intensified as of late. Still Mormel often gleamed little insight of her memories from these episodes although despite this she had developed a strange feeling as she looked upon the world. It was like a constant sense of deja vu and that her old self was just around the corner, barely hidden. From this perspective Mormel could see how she was similar to the mechanical fowl. She was still the same person but just one of her gears had ceased to work.

“But an old friend? I… I already have friends.”

As Mormel muttered to herself her thoughts drifted to those that had done so much for her as of late. Zurom, who was making the greatest strides in uncovering Bragdus’ plans and cornering the demon. Ellua and Koudo, the two AAMS blood knights that had diligently protected her. Yumao, a friendly and supportive pandaren that helped Mormel survive her evenings at Hardwrench Hideaway and the Boutique & Bar sale. Kezrin, the woman Mormel felt a strange connection to and who was currently in the most danger from the rogue demon. Swizelle, who always seemed to be there with words of encouragement when Mormel needed them most. And then there was Rhazin.

The thought of him made Mormel blush and she pulled her knees closer to her chest. Rhazin had said they‘d been intimate before she lost her memories. He had said that he loved her… that he still loved her because, deep down inside, she was the same person he cared so much for. Mormel did not know to handle the feelings swirling around inside of her after having so much revealed about their past relationship. Still… when she looked deeply into his eyes or when they kissed she could swear that, for just a split second, she cared for him just as much as he did for her. It gave Mormel an added level of resolve to see Bragdus brought to justice and her memories restored. She desperately wanted to become that person Rhazin loved once again.

Unfortunately Mormel was in no position to actually assist in Zurom’s hunt for the demon or to protect Kezrin. Unable to recall how to utilize her warlock powers she had been little more than dead weight for the group. Yet this did not break her desire to aid in some way. During Bragdus’ most recent visitation he had mentioned a few names. One of them was Renzly whom Mormel was pretty sure had been the goblin that arrived at Hardwrench Hideaway demanding information about Kezrin’s whereabouts. Supposedly her old self hated this girl but Mormel did not care about that now. She would make an attempt to locate this crafty goblin rogue and tell her everything she had heard from Bragdus. Hopefully Renzly would be able to provide some additional insight into the demon and what it’s relationship had been with her father.

Her feet carried her along the worn path in the dusk without so much as a stumble. Between her fingers, she spun a small white flower she'd picked from behind an old stump while her mind raced over her conversation with Kezrin.

"Your best weapons are your head and your heart." As though Ellua were any kind of authority. She shook her head at herself and made her careful way through the solemn lines of headstones. Eventually the path petered out, the stones in the very far back small and almost covered over in grass. Deepening purple gloom hid the words on the cold stone. She didn't need to read them. She wandered al the way to the far corner of the yard,

Kneeling, she brushed back the grass around a small square, just large enough for a finely etched 'Dawnfire'. She settled the white flower on the letters, She shifted her position, sitting to press her back against the low wall and resting her chin on her knees, arms around her legs.

"Whatever happened before all this, it don't matter now. What matters is now. You hold on to that, an' what you've built yourself. Comes a time all of us gotta choose who we are- who we're gonna be. You and Miss Mormel got that day comin', soon, i think, and plenty of friends to tie you to yourselves when it comes to it."

The words rolled mockingly in the silence broken only by the occasional evening insect. Was she ready to decide that for herself? Did she even know anymore?

Echoes of another conversation presented themselves, and she ahfl-whispered them to the twilight. "Buried things here. A marriage. A child I never got to meet." Ellua let out a long breath, reaching forward to delicately brush her fingers over the lettering. A slow certainty bubbled up in her that what she'd told the goblin hadn't simply been to soothe her. They'd been words and thoughts floating just on the edge of her waking mind for weeks now.

She flexed her hand, feeling a twinge of the old familiar warmth of the Light. Could it be as easy as letting go? Ell worried that it both could and couldn't be. She'd promised Kezrin she'd do everything in her power to keep the pair of goblins safe. This whole experience- yes, she'd hated coming to Hearthglen. Still, she couldn't deny the normalcy of being here, or of being responsible for the safety of others again- what a balm it was to a restless soul to have purpose after so long drifting through the world aimlessly.

She was staring down one hell of a big ogre. This time, though, it was one she didn't have the foggiest idea on how to approach. She stared into the growing dark, chewing at her lip and mussing her hair. She had to find the way, because if she didn't, she wasn't the only one who would pay for it.

Emitting a soft sigh Mormel slowly opened her eyes to see the ceiling of Rhazin’s workshop. Warm and welcoming rays of light streamed through a window as dawn came to Bilgewater Harbor. She glanced to her side to find that Rhazin was still sleeping soundly amidst the pile of “gold coin” looking pillows and sheets that served as his bed. They were both still fully clothed and while Mormel had drank more than usual last night she could recall having wanted to come back to his place before almost instantly collapsing from exhaustion upon arriving.

With the grace of a cat Mormel slid off of Rhazin’s “bed”, careful not to wake him, and stood up to stretch her limbs. Miss Softpaws was curled up on a chair nearby and let out a big yawn upon seeing her owner awake. As Mormel surveyed the dozens of trinkets and engineered knickknacks that lined Rhazin’s shelves she reflected on everything she had been told last night. About how her demon Bragdus had stolen her memories for nearly two weeks and it took the combined efforts of her friends to finally defeat him in a series of duels. Duels that had some kind of signed contract involved because the moment Bragdus lost all of his curses were instantly nullified, including the one affecting Mormel.

It was something Mormel still had a hard time believing but she could not deny the facts. Time clearly had passed for her with it being the end of the month now rather than the middle. Furthermore, she still had her connection to Bragdus and he had indeed been forced back into the twisting nether. The demon was in a severely weakened state and it would probably be months before he could recover enough energy to return. Mormel was tempted to sever her connection to him at that very moment but part of her thought that would be even more dangerous than keeping it. At least with their soul link she could keep track of him if not outright contain any future ambitions he might have.

Mormel’s gaze shifted to Rhazin as he slept soundly and a smile spread across her lips. While she had a hard time remembering what had happened during Bragdus’ betrayal she did not think those memories were lost to her. No, they seemed to be buried underneath all of her original memories. If she concentrated hard enough she could vaguely recall events that had happened at Hardwrench and the Boutique & Bar sale. While most of these recollections were blurry to her the one she did recall with an alarming amount of clarity was when Rhazin shouted out that he loved her. Even now hearing those words in her mind caused Mormel’s dark green skin to blush brightly.

Almost in desperation Mormel glanced about the room, searching for something else to focus her attention on. She quickly took notice of this picture Rhazin had been drawing of her. It was only half finished and there was a tear in the paper but the likeness was remarkable. Mormel had no idea that Rhazin had such an artistic side to him. She held up the piece of paper to the sunlight to better see it and an invigorating feeling came over her. The sense that despite the horrible ordeal she and everyone else had been through they had all survived it by relying on one another’s strength. That they might have even gained something unique out of this tragedy that made them stronger, more complete individuals.

“My name’s Mormel Felspark an’ that’s who I’ll always be!”

Mormel triumphantly exclaimed as she gazed upon the picture of herself.

[I want to take the time now to thank everyone for being so involved in this Story Arc! We held a lot of really fun RP sessions during the two weeks this arc lasted and I really appreciate so many people adding their own entries to this story section. Thanks again for being so supportive. You guys are awesome! :D ]

((I will get you yet my pre... hmmm you're kinda green))

[I... I can be your precious! I mean... sure! I'm green but it's a lovely shade of green!]

(If this is considered a necro or need a new thread do tell. But felt like I needed to post it here)

'Man what a mess, least my stuff,' is all Rhazin can think as he's arranging items around his workshop making sure not to disturb any of Mormel's stuff as he does a bit of work to clear his mind. Least the whole messy business with Bragdus was behind them and things seemed to be improving for both of them. Though he still had questions about what happened before the demon going loony, but they can always be answered another time. For now the goblin gal he knew was back and they were both really happy about it. Especially now that she moved in.

Rhazin nods to himself as he studies his work before quickly looking round to make sure there were no peering eyes including possibly Miss Sofpaws he walks over to a large chest with a strange lock that has a bundle of dynamite sticks lying on top. The bundle seems normal except for one stick bearing a mark on it that he pulls out. He almost takes another look around but shrugs as he holds the item in both hands and twists it, the bottom half shifting into what looks like a key. Opening the chest reveals inside several things including a collection of the usual magazines, some older than him along with what look like old prototypes or least broken parts mixed in with various trinkets.

Ignoring the magazines, he shifts through the other items and pulls out what looks like a large album. Opening it up he smiles at the first page which is mostly full of sketches the first being that of a young Rhaz and another Goblin that was most likely his Dad. This is certainly proven as he flips though the book going from sketches to actual photos. Some showing the two working on gadgets or manning a store together to when the older goblin handed him a familiar looking rifle. Course anyone peeking would probably ask one question looking at the first section, 'Where's his Mom?' The answer to that question would probably not come easy as he pulls out an envelope hidden beneath one of the pictures. Inside is a torn photo, one half being that of his Dad, the other being a goblin female whose face is faded beyond recognition. Rhaz frowns and almost cries as he looks between the two halves, glancing at the letter stored with them,

'Sorry I gave this to ya so late, Shortfuse. I even wondered why I kept this around myself. But felt with how things went with the cataclysm on Kezan thought I'd at least try to answer a few questions you've kept pushing for so long. Wish I had a better photo to go with them, but trust me she was among the most beautiful and kind girls I knew. Just wish she hadn't left us so early. Maybe then we wouldn't have both gotten involved in the darker side of the cartels work along with you heading out for those jobs in Outland and Northrend before all the madness that lead Gallywix to joining the Horde. Course then you wouldn't have made new friends and learned new skills, which I know she'd be proud of like I am. Yet you and I know you have a wild streak in ya, which came from both of us. Course your artistic side comes more from her, while I influenced your passion for tinkering. But enough about you, just hope you know that wherever she is now that she cares for you and is watching both of us, son. And if you ever need me just call.'

'P.S. Just Keep Enjoying Life, Kiddo.'

Jarhaz Steamblast
(To be Continued)

If anyone was watching by now they’d see Rhaz actually break down crying as he looks at the half of the photo with the woman on it. Images flash through his mind of him showing off various sketches to someone like her, but the face faded like in the photo. Stuffing the items back into the envelope before slipping it back into the envelope he says, “Someday I’ll remember more than that. While, heh, dad you always knew how I hated that nickname.” Regaining his composure as he wipes the tears off his eyes and the pages he starts to flip through once again. This time the album displaying photos most likely from his days working as one of the Bilgewater Cartel’s enforcers. One pic showing him and a motley crew of goblins in uniform, a few most likely now acting as guards round Org or part of the Gob Squad among other things, if they’re alive. Besides Spitfire strapped to his back the only difference between his uniform and the others is a wide brimmed black hat. In these pics the only thing missing is any sign of him really starting to tame pets, though a small black shelled crab tries to sneak in now and then. A few seeming to just be him along with the others showing off skills with their weapons, bombs, and gadgets. Along with several of them just celebrating or gambling with each other. Mixed in with the photos are a few newspaper clippings of so called ‘incidents’ that happened in Bilgewater Harbor along with other Cartel towns. One even showing Rhazin being chased by several guards as a suspect in a few crimes. A wicked smirk crosses Rhaz’s face as he chuckles a bit but doesn’t linger too long as he flips another page.

On the next few pages the background changes to that of different zones, most being from Outland or Northrend. These pics most likely from his days being shipped out for mercenary work for the Horde. Few pics have him wielding a weapon but others just show him with his tools working on various machines, even helping to dismantle a fel reaver along with naga machinery. Not many are great in quality especially those that seem to have been taken in a hurry. Especially ones involving what looks like Rhaz messing with a dwarf siege tank and running away from the driver as the wheels fall off. In these pics are a few of the same goblins but also mixed in is one new face in particular. That of a troll hunter who seems like he’s becoming one of the goblins best friends. What would possibly surprise anyone in the pics would be the beastly mugs of Orthros, Sparky, and few other of Rhaz’s pets. Though all seem to belong more to the troll then the goblin himself except for the same black shelled crab from the earlier page. The little critter certainly having gotten larger as it sits next to him. These pics Rhaz seems to linger on as a wide smile crosses his face. Looking at a particular series of sketches mixed in which show the troll teaching him how to track and tame, even a few tips on being stealthy. Next to these on the page is what looks to be a troll charm in the shape of miniature wooden troll mask with the words, ‘Gud luck, mon.’ written on the back. Taking it off the page Rhaz wonders if he should put it in his pocket but just lays it back on the page saying, “Ya never did say why you always had my back, buddy. But glad ya did no matter what we dragged each other into.”

Finally he moves on to more recent pages as most are blank, mostly filled with ads for the store along with pics that he saved of the various events along with people he met. Among them being rough sketches of people like Kezrin, Yumao, Iceia, Liore, and few others anyone could recognize. All not his best work, but could always try again later or just snap actual pictures when he can. The only thing missing is one of Mormel. Looking over the page he glances to where the sketch he’s tried to work on is laying saying to himself, “Well gotta remedy that soon.” Closing the album he places it back in the chest and locks it back up, heading over to the desk to glance at the sketch of the goblin girl before heading out to find some other work for the day.