One Hoof

My foray into the Ghostlands with Artimir proved... eye-opening on a number of fronts. What began as a thought to find the alchemist that was charging extortionist fees for his medicinals and get him to give up some to help Marcel's sister became -- something else entirely.
 
I thought at first that we would scare him into revealing the medicine, how it was made. I had no issue with playing the Big, Dumb Brute to Artimir's more eloquent and calm demeanor. Good Guard, Bad Guard. It is a common enough tactic. Everything changed, however, when the Forsaken mentioned the Shattered Hand orc that would drop off a magically sealed and locked case at odd intervals. He never mentioned if anyone came to pick it up. After that, Artimir's demeanor changed.
 
I thought -- I am not sure what I thought, really. I thought Artimir was just trying to scare him, to make sure we got all the needed information we could from him, like the recipe for the medicine. Even when Artimir told me to turn away, leave the room, so that my Light would not be stained by what needed to be done I am not sure what I was expecting. I feel like I should have stopped him, I should have said something.
 
Artimir killed that Forsaken. It made sense, of course, if there really were ties to this operation to the Shattered Hand then word of it getting back to them would most certainly give us much bigger problems than one corrupt apothecary. I took the case, knowing that Skarni was part of the Shattered Hand, if anyone could get us deeper answers to what was going on here, then it would be that orc. Artimir, however, refused to let me carry something so volatile. He had no wish for me to be implicated if I were caught with it and insisted that if we needed to know what was in it then he would keep it safe until I brought Skarni.
 
Artimir and I parted ways in Orgrimmar, but I did nothing but worry about his well-being from then on.
 
☼
 
By An'she's Blessing, Skarni put in an appearance some hours after Artimir had departed. I drew the young orc aside and asked him about the case. Apparently, it is some methodology by which the Shattered Hand move around sensitive documents, items, or other materials to keep them out of the wrong hands. The cases are all numbered so that they can be tracked to their handlers, their delivery points, and other notable information. Every time a job is completed, the cases are melted down and remade, so the numbers are never re-used. Each case also has both magical and mundane locks and wards. While Artimir was able to Purify the magical wards easily enough with his experience, the Elementium locks seemed to stymie us. Skarni, though, was confident that he could deal with them.
 
Our best option would be to get the case to Skarni and let him vet it for its authenticity. Then, he could either return it -- or we could find out what was in it. I am not sure which option I care to go with . If it belongs to the actual Shattered Hand, it should be returned. But there is also the question of it possibly belonging to a splinter cell of defectors that stole the case. In which case, it is almost imperative we learn what was in it and what they were up to out in the Ghostlands. It will all depend on what Skarni has to say.
 
☼
 
Later on in the evening, Rory invited me out to Dalaran with some of his friends to go to a tea social being hosted in the Legerdemain. Apparently their group was not the only one with such a thought, so the place was full to overflowing. It was a cacophony of conversations that was almost offensive to the ears. It was everything I could do to keep my focus on the one elf-maid that conversed with me, Tandeyline. There was a goblin there, Tazzixi, that could prattle on faster than a pair of Goblin Rocket Boots. It was distracting.
 
At some point Rory left with Qiao, though I know not when. I suffered through the cacophony as much as I could stand before I finally made my excuses to leave. After yesterday, I did not want to leave the city without telling Rory where I was going, but without knowing where he went I could do nothing more than go to the small park by the portal to Orgrimmar and wait.
 
I was eventually found, again, by the talkative goblin, Tazzixi. She asked first after my burn scar before launching into a tale about her own; "Blindside Sisters" she called us, given that we were both blind on the same side. Her tale was sad and unfortunate, having some deal or debt with the Elements which ended up costing her her eye. Now they only steal mana from her on a monthly basis, which hardly seems better, but she claims to be fine. She also said that someone was helping her with it, as overloaded as I am, I am not sure what help I could have even offered her. I ended up telling her my own sad story of how my burns were made. She thought it would be something heroic. It was nothing more than Alliance cruelty.
 
In my preoccupation with everything that had gone on today, I did not pay much attention to the conversational flow and I once more ended up talking about the Syndicate and Rory's curse. Even when I try to get away from it for a time, it comes up time and time again. It gets harder to remember the time when my life was not consumed by the Syndicate. The only time I can seem to forget it for a few hours is during the Story Circle. But at least now Rory has another ally in his fight against Elizaveta. Tazzixi seemed bound and determined to help him.
 
Not long after, Rory and the others put in an appearance and I eventually asked Rory to portal me home. It was another long journey to Duskwood, so Rory made it shorter by sending me to Stonard. So here I am, half a world away from everything I know and love, watching An'she bring us a new day.
 
One hoof in front of the other.