Ruzzell Goldgrin

A sudden shiver runs down Ruzzell’s back, followed by a sickly burp. A flash of golden eyes glanced over at him and teased him. 

“Told you drinking that bowl of elf blood wasn’t a good idea~” 

“Well... y’never know! Don’t they do that kinda thing on Draenor? Like those Shadowmoon Orcs?” 

“First off, I don’t know anything about orc customs. And second, I don’t think Blood Elves drink blood.” 

Dirii returned to her magazine, snickering to herself as the goblin lets out another gaseous emission. Reaching for the Kaja’cola on the nightstand, he takes another sip in hopes of quelling his upset stomach. 

“Dammit Clikki, where’d ya even get an idea like this?...” 

“You didn’t have to drink it.” 

“He’s my brotha! Besides, I always try out everyone’s food at Goblin Meshi! It’s part of what makes it so special. Sharing our meals and adventures together.” 

She reaches over to playfully pinch and shake his nose. 

“Doesn’t look like you’ll make it another Meshi after tonight~” 

He bats her hand away and grumbles with his soda, attempting to remedy his ailment. Another deep gulp of the mineral beverage and burp. She sighs and leans in to kiss his cheek. 

“Alright you. Time to sleep before you float away like a balloon. Ni ni~” 

With a wave of her hand over the bedside runestone, the candles and lights of their bedroom slowly fades into moonlit darkness. Ruzzell grumpily turns on his side and attempts to fall asleep as the Kaja’mite slowly seeps into his body and soothes away his discomforts. 

Eyes closed; the darkness is kept at bay by the faint glow of green emanating from his eyes, a side effect of taking in the mineral anew. His mind and senses were alert and open to a flood of brilliant ideas and perceptions of the world around him. Sleep was a battle for him as fatigue battled the magic ore and desire for deeper rest. 

“Do you hear the music of the earth? It calls to us all in many ways...” 

A disembodied voice called out to him; one that was not Dirii’s. His senses turned in the abyss, guessing where the call might come from. 

“Drink deep of her blood once more Ruzzell... you’ve tasted it once before...” 

The voice beckoned from another far-off point behind him. A vision of a tropical stream, bubbling with a fissure of glowing gold and cerulean light. Azerite. His panacea from years ago had saved his life. He dropped to his knees and drank from the spring once more. An explosion of chromatic wonders washed over his spirit as he tumbled backwards into the shadows. 

Down, down, down... deep and cold. Then hot and musty. Gravity pulled at him as he now fell upwards and then to the side. A ship without direction on an inky sea bounding towards shores of rainbow horizons and familiar scenery. 

Dropping hard on the grassy lawn of his home, he saw the old farmhouse he’d renovated. A lush garden of strange flowers and ornamental plants encircled the plot. Tropical trees and cacti from his faraway island of Kezan transplanted beside the other field. He attempts to enter his home when a new voice calls out. 

“You’re hungry for knowledge. She’s hungry for adventure. Eat plenty the gift of your people.” 

A large rock was now before him; verdant crystals that hummed with a resonance of potential of wisdom and innovation. 

Raw Kaja’mite. 

He could already feel his senses hone in on the blessed rock. Lips smacking in ravished hunger; he helplessly hunkers down to the crystal formation and bites down with his golden fangs. Drooling over the Kaja’mite, his mind’s eye is opened wide to the world around him now. 

The house now rumbles at his supplication. Fire and light erupts into the night as the land begins to upheave and part. A forest of strange plants and lights births forth under the foundations of the house. A colossus mechanical wonders and steam expand upwards and then outwards. Pipes, towers, the hearth light of homes and inspirations. A great leg, like that of a crab or unknown thing of the depths reaches outwards, pulling the metal mass out of its confines. Then another.  

Before him was his trusty cooking aid, M.E.S.H.I. Grown to impossible size, his robot greeted its master with a swift chop down to the earth. He dodges the colossus and draws his own blade as an incredible fight breaks out. Fire and smoke billows out as the mountain of steel and stone crashes down in pursuit of him. 

“Leap far and high, Green Grasshopper!” 

The voice of his Master encouraged him in his fight. A heroic leap up to the minarets of his home. He lops at the chimney with the side of his rapier. Somehow, the thin blade chisels away at the mortar and wood as blue flames billow out. The earth trembles below as palm trees are felled. 

“The weak spot is the gem below, my friend!” speaks out an ethereal voice. 

“No, no! You cheat once more! You mustn’t tell him!” clamors another familiar voice. 

Ruzzell grabs onto a rope and swoops down behind the boiler behemoth and finds a massive crystal of opaline brilliance and unknowable carat. A lattice of endless facets deep within; he readies his sword in anticipation. 

“Dodge, parry, feint, then thrust!” a ghostly instruction fills his soul with light and hope. 

Practiced form and clear sight, he takes aim and strikes. 

Critical hit! 

The sound of cogs and engines slowly dies down, as the castle's pillars come tumbling down all around him. 

“You idjit! Scamper outta there ‘fore you turn into a pancake!” echoed the drawl of his grandmother. 

He takes flight now in his mini-zeppelin, soaring out, under, and then above into the night sky. M.E.S.H.I collapses into mechanical ruin, his great hearth smiling to his creator in approval. A wealth of warmth and brilliance shines out of the destruction, and something new and incomprehensible is born from his deeds. 

“Kaja’cola gives you IDEAS!” cheered on his brother Clikki from some unseen existence. 

A round of applause carried on for his performance. Cheers, music, voices and colors all swirled into a torrent of confusion and ultimate understanding. 

All at once, the dream ends to Ruzzell waking up in the middle of the night and racing to the bathroom to vomit. Dirii wakes up with a startle and calls out. 

“Ruzz, you okay in there?” 

"Well, when I was younga' I used to do a lotta stupid crap. I rememba' this time in Azshara, takin' one of the speedway rockets off the locked rails. Found out they are just as airworthy as any rocket carrier outta Undermine! Course, I wasn't the pilot I am today. Didn't know how to handle the turbulence of a volatile rum-infused propulsion system. That sucka' went screamin' halfway to Ratchet 'fore I crashed into the barracks in Razorhill! Got my ass chewed out by my captain and was put on dockwork for a week afta', haha!"

Goblin Meshi is an RP event where you join a group of other adventurers to gather ingredients in an area, decide a recipe to make, and prepare a delicious meal for everyone to share! It is super fun and laidback!

Still craving some more spicy treats after Firefest? Need some fun in the sun, or a day at the beach? Look no further as we present for the first time ever a very special Goblin Meshi in our very own Succulent Tart Neighborhood! Come join us all for a chill summer bbq on Tasty Pastry Island! Food, good times, and fun can be had at any one of our wonderful homes! We look forward to celebrating a delicious adventure with you all! 😎 ☀️

I was surprised at how much Ruzzell doesn’t like Silvermoon and many of the people in it.

Unfortunately, Ruzzell's first introduction to the city and Blood Elves was largely a negative one. This was well over a decade ago when Silvermoon still had many Kael'thas loyalists, so the city still had issues with their citizens being elitist and openly prejudiced towards any non-elves in their city. Ruzzell was also a much different person at the time, still fresh from Undermine and ignorant about other cultures. He's grown a lot over the years and gained a new perspective on life and other people. Despite that, the old wounds and memories left a lasting impression on him; which is why he's struggled to come to terms with his trauma and changing his views of Silvermoon and its people.

Hey thanks for the feedback!

So honestly, it depends for me. For some DWC or writings in general, I tend to have a story arc in mind already or get inspired by each prompt. For this one, it was mostly improved day by day. I knew I wanted to write something about the latest expansion and I already had established lore with Ruzzell and Silvermoon and had thought for a while what a return to the city and coming to terms with his past prejudices, encounters with the void, and his own mental health would look like for him. I try to keep my stories grounded in the world characters live in but always give room for stretching the lore and characters when needed.

Hey thanks for that! Initially I wasn’t sure what direction this story would go for Ruzzell. Actually reading some feedback of how this was uncharacteristic this was for him helped guide my narrative into a more cohesive story! I try not to focus too much on negative topics and only bring them up when necessary to drive the plot.

Day 7 Horrify/Render 

A gentle breeze grazes Ruzzell’s cheek as he relaxed under an oak tree. Sunlight filters through the canopy above, offering moments of soothing warmth in the shade. The garden outside the sanctuary was secluded and relatively quiet. A songbird twittered far off somewhere, and the soft strumming of someone practicing their harp was the only disturbance to his peace. For once, he had felt at complete peace in Silvermoon. No negative thoughts, no immediate threats. Just sunshine, warmth, and healing. 

Taking a deep breath, a deep stinging felt in his shoulders and neck. He immediately reaches for his healing potion; a special blend made in recent years thanks to the Lightbloom. The familiar red liquid had a bright amber glow to it, reminiscent of a sun-kissed sky. He drinks his medicine and soon the pain eases away. Warmth flowed through his body as he began to relax once more. 

“Mr. Goldgrin, how are you feeling today?” the nurse asked from the garden wall. 

Turning in his wheelchair, he glanced up to the woman and smiled brightly. 

“Oh, just swell! I think I’m ready to leave this place!” 

“Sir, you are still recovering from a serious injury! It’s been only a week since you’ve been admitted.” she said with concern. Ruzzell laughter turned to groans of pain before smiling again. “You need to keep drinking your healing potions. The Lightfused Tranquility Bloom is what’s neutralizing that Voidbound poison in you.” 

“Yeah, right...” he says as he finishes his honied tea. “Mind getting me some more tea, please?” He smiled brightly and offered her his tray. 

“Of course, Mr. Goldgrin. I’ll be right back.” she says as she takes his cup and walks back into the clinic. Walking back into the kitchen, the nurse reaches for some more freshly baked cakes and biscuits, snacking on a madeleine cookie. Pouring some more tea into the delicate cup and cutting some lemon wedges, she carefully balances all the items on the tray and slowly walks out with practiced grace. “Alright, here we are Mr... Goldgrin?” Upon returning, she finds an empty wheelchair under the tree. 

Silvermoon had gone under great renovations over the years, but many of the streets and neighborhoods remained relatively the same. Ruzzell knew the quickest route out of the garden and was already shambling halfway across town back towards the Bazaar. Though weak, he could still walk; it wasn’t his legs that got minced up after all. Rapier slung low to his waist and his pack dragged along on the ground, he wandered through the open courtyard towards the market stall. Playing in a small field of wildflowers, Dawn looked up and gasped, calling out to her mother. 

“Mommy, mommy! Look! It’s Ruzzell!” 

Her mother was looking over some ripe melons when her ears twitched, hearing her daughter call out for her. She saw the familiar green face of her hero marching through the flowers as her daughter hugged the goblin tightly. 

“AH! Easy there Princess! I’m still a little sore from those bad guys!”  

The girl let go of his neck and shied away with a blush. “I’m sorry, Ruzzell! I’m just so happy to see you’re alright!” Looking over the goblin with his sword and wounds, she thought up something quick. “Oh! I got a gift for you! Just close your eyes, Mister! No peaking!” 

Pausing at the surprise, he chuckled weakly and nodded. He sat down on the grass and closed his eyes as he waited. A few minutes pass before feeling tiny hands wriggle in his hair as she put something on his head. “There! I made you a crown Ruzzell!” 

Opening his eyes, he’d see a hastily woven crown of wildflowers sitting on his head. His heart warmed up from Dawn’s gift, seeing her smile brightly at him. “This is an AMAZING gift, Dawn. Thank you!” He reached out to gently pet her head, then turned to see her mother walk up to them. “Heya Dawn’s mom!” 

The mother holds her bag of groceries before her as she dipped her head down in respect to him. “Ruzzell, you saved Dawn’s life and my own. I am forever in your debt.” 

Blushing, he scratched his cheek shyly. “Aww, I just did what any sensible person would do. I saw a child and her mother in danger and just... I had to act.” 

“Well, what you did was incredibly brave and I can’t thank you enough for being our hero.” Raising her hand to her heart, she beams brightly down to him. “I forgot to give you my name. I’m Jadira Summersong.” 

“A pleasure Jadira!” he got up and reached out to shake her hand. 

“Those were some incredible heroics you pulled off by the way. Where did you learn to fight like that?” she tilted her head curiously, Dawn returning to play in the flower patch. 

“Oh, I’ve always been a fighter! Been a Bruiser, then trained with the Shado-Pan for a bit. But that stuff back there was what I learned here in Silvermoon.” 

“Oh my, you must have had an impressive teacher to teach you all that, Mr. Goldgrin!” she blushed, covering her mouth. 

“He’s a pretty good fencer! Jestirion is his name. Told me he’s a Sword Master that’s been serving the decades! Was sorta surprised at how willing he was to take me on as his student.” 

Jadira’s face grows pale as she nearly drops her bag, falling down to her knees. Her eyes begin to tear up at the mention of that name. Ruzzell and Dawn gather close to check on her. 

“H-hey! What’s wrong?” Ruzzell placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“T-that’s... that’s my late husband’s name... I can’t...” she quivered her lip, cheeks flushed red now. The goblin searched her face incredulously. 

“Daddy?” Dawn looked to her mother and then back to Ruzzell in confusion. “Mr. Ruzzell, that was my daddy’s name... He died years ago protecting Silvermoon.” The light in the child’s eyes lessened as she hugged her mother in comfort. 

This didn’t make any sense. How was her late husband his instructor? Surely, this was just a coincidence. Perhaps a common name among the blood elves. 

The mother pulls Ruzzell in for a deep hug in appreciation and understanding. “I don’t know how... but I think my husband sent you to save us that day.” 

Hugging Jadira, he’d ease up and let go of her, his mind still baffled at the meaning of this. “Sorry, I... I need to check on something. I’ll come back in a while, I promise.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked her in the eyes stoically, and she responded with a solemn nod. 

Getting up uneasily, he pats Dawn’s head once more and shambles off with his sword and bag towards The Walk of Elders. Slowly, his arms began to ache as the effects of the potion began to wear off. Rummaging in his bag, he finds another healing potion and bites off the cork to down it. Wounds restored, Ruzzell had the energy to continue his journey down the ancient streets he once patrolled. Passing through Wayfarer’s Rest, he spots the corner where his old deed once took place. A lone lamp post stood tall; a replacement for the one that was destroyed so many years ago. This was where Ruzzell encountered the Void creature that was M’azzon. At the base of the lamp was a weathered plate with an etching that read “Dedicated to the incredible but true heroics of Ruzzell Goldgrin, who fought off a demon threat on The Walk of Elders.” Looking around the street for a moment, he searched but couldn’t find trace of anything out of the ordinary. No whispers. No coldness. 

“I ain’t done with you bastards yet... Come at me again. I’ll be waiting!” he barked out into the empty street. No replies at all. 

Continuing down the road through the Royal Exchange, he’d made it to Falconwing Square. There in the far corner of the training grounds was the quartermaster for the Blood Knights and Farstriders of Silvermoon. Shuffling up to the counter, Ruzzell sees no one. Ringing the bell on the counter, he begins to make a ruckus. 

“Yo! Some customah service here, pronto!” Ding! Ding! Ding! 

Causing a scene, a stuffy young man with bifocals stumbles out from the back, wiping his hands on his apron. In a panic, he quickly answers but sees no one around. “H-hello?” 

A green hand reaches over the counter to ring the bell one last time. The clerk peers over the ledge to see the familiar goblin once more. 

“Ah, Mr. Goldgrin! I was wondering when we’d see you again! Requesting another sparring session with our runeblades? 

Flustered, Ruzzell stepped back. “What? No! I’m here to see my instructor, Jestirion!” 

The man scrunched his nose and pushed up his glasses in puzzlement. “Jestirion? We don’t have an instructor here by that name. You’ve been here the past month requesting training with one of our runeblades.” Ducking down under the counter for a moment, the elf pulls up a ledger and thumbs through a few pages before turning it to Ruzzell. “See here? This is your signature, the dates, times checked in and out, and the runeblade in question.” 

Pulling the ledger closer to him, he sees that it was indeed signed out in his handwriting. He pushes the book back in disbelief as the clerk looks him over. 

“Were you wanting to schedule another session, Mr. Goldgrin?” 

Hesitant, Ruzzell nods and signs the ledger once more. An exchange of coins and terms is rendered, and within a few minutes the clerk returns from the armory with a sheathed rapier, handing it to the goblin. Ruzzell looks at the weapon, then back to the clerk who looks expectantly at him. “Oh, you are free to take the sword to the courtyard, or anywhere within the city limits. Just be sure to return it on time or there will be an additional late fee. 

Walking alone with the runeblade in hand, he continues towards The Shepherd’s Gate and out into the gardens leading into Eversong Woods. He tried to recreate his path towards the apple tree he remembered sparring with Jestirion. The sun dappled through the boughs of the canopy over the secluded garden. No one was around. Only Ruzzell and the runeblade in his hands. As he unsheathes the sword, a faded inscription on the hilt read the name: “Jestirion Summersong”. 

The blade pulled out of the scabbard all on its own and floated by magical means in the air. Striking into a practiced pose, Ruzzell recalls now that familiar stance. He draws his own rapier in turn to spar with the blade. 

Swipe, Clash, Thud! 

Ruzzell’s sword was knocked out of his weakened hands. He sat down in the cool grass of the garden, looking up to the enchanted blade as it assumes a triumphant gesture, tip pointing skywards into the sun. Looking up, the light blinded him temporarily, and for a moment he saw the Jestirion standing there, clutching his sword. 

“Thank you, Ruzzell...” 

Just as soon as the vision came, the glint of the blade shifted again and the vision was gone. Suddenly, it all made sense to him. Knowing exactly what he must do now, he would get up on his feet once more, holster the runeblade, and then make his way back to Falconwing Square to purchase the blade outright. 

Ruzzell returned to Dawn and Jadira later that day with Jestirion’s blade. 

Day 6 Anguish/Heat 

“Ana, mena belore. Ana belore, belore. Anaaa, menaaa... Ana, belore, belore! Ruzzell... Anu’be, adore mena...” 

The local temple sang out mournfully, their prayers carried on cool coastal winds overhead. Bells and violins carried the sorrowful melody to all in attendance for the morning congregation. Dawn and her mother sat among the other parishioners; hands clasped together and hearts heavy. The elves sang out in unison for the goblin, who heroically saved a young mother and her daughter from a vicious attack the day before. The mass carried on for little over an hour, then broke for reflection and meditation. 

Young Dawn followed her mother as they walked solemnly towards the nearby clinic. In a small bed lay Ruzzell, his breath labored, and eyes shut tight restless sleep. A nurse tended to the seven stab wounds on his upper shoulders and neck. It was a miracle he had survived any fatal wounds, but the poison that infected him was deep and vicious. The local apothecary found that the daggers had been laced with a powerful poison of void-infused Sanguithorn. A poultice of light-blessed Tranquility Bloom was administered to his bandages, helping to neutralize the poison from spreading any further. The nurse looked up to the visitors and offered a reassuring smile. 

“He’s going to be fine. Mr. Goldgrin is fighting off the poison right now. He just needs lots of rest.” 

Dawn’s eyes burned seeing her friend struggle before her. She walked up to his bedside and laid down a bouquet of freshly picked flowers for him. 

“Ruzzell... you’re a real hero... You save me and my mommy... I prayed for you today and... and...” she stops before sobbing uncontrollably. The nurse and her mother held Dawn and tried to comfort her as they all left the room now. 

Deep within the hero’s mind, he’d find himself lost in darkness. A battle of intense heat and frigid cold pulled him through a tempest. In the dark he could hear faint laughter echoing about, both nowhere and everywhere all at once. The sensation of countless eyes fell upon him once more, the same sensation he felt last year on his journey to K’aresh. White ghost lights tormented the goblin with judging malice and sick delight in his suffering. 

“You should have died in Undermine...” 

The voices taunted in unison. Within a moment, he saw himself in the arena once more, being pummeled by a great sea giant. His body strained and mind lit up in agony, experiencing his transformation once more. The haunted vision quickly warps as the giant becomes a goblin in scrap armor, and the arena shifts into a darkened bar. Fire and alcohol flood him senses with the taste of blood and cheap rum overpowering him. He fights against the shadowy assailant before the nightmare dissipates into a fog of brilliant light. 

Unaware to Ruzzell, days have gone by now. His nurses work around the clock, changing shifts to dress his wounds and applying new poultice to his dressings. Each day Dawn would return to see her friend and bring him new flowers and prayers. A cushioned chair was kept close to his bedside as Dawn and her mother kept vigil over their hero. 

“Do you think he’ll wake up today mommy?” 

“I don’t know darling... We must keep him in our thoughts and pray for his health.” her mother said as she adjusted sitting on her knees. An amber pendant with copper filigree was clasped in her hands, a symbol of their sun. The glow of trapped sunlight sparkled from deep within its lattices and intensified in its brilliance as she continued her prayers. 

Ruzzell could see a far-off light in the endless void all around him. The voices of his parents mingled with the hushed whispers of entropic nothingness around him. 

“Why do you still fight?” 

The audient void questioned the defiance of the goblin, his body spinning around weightlessly in the midnight sea. Off in the distance was Quel’danas and the Sunwell. The once brilliant light had been tainted into shadow, flooding all of reality into a hopeless vortex of despair. The light and void energies coalesced into a singularity now. Gravity had taken hold of his body once more, allowing him to find stable footing as he walked on unseen ground towards this flickering light. As he grew closer, he saw that it had become a candle now. A billow of incense floated up, coalescing into an amorphic figure of intelligent mist. Many pale lights danced around inside the mass, the faint screams of multiple voices trying to call out through the fog. The smoke condensed into a feminine figure now, vaguely resembling an amalgamation of elven women he had once known. A coy smile on its face; its spectral eyes gleamed in sensual delight in its cruelty. 

“Why didn’t you end your suffering?” 

The elven features shifted once more into the visage of Xal’atath, or what Ruzzell had perceived in posters and artwork of the cultist. Twin eclipses transfixed on the man, watching him go through his life’s torments once more as the death frost of the darkness enveloped him once more. 

Today, the goblin shivered endlessly in his bed, despite the multitude of blankets his caretakers covered him with. A warm compress was placed on his head by the mother. She looked over her hero with growing concern and weary eyes. Dawn placed her hand on his, clutching his finger tightly. 

“It’s okay, Mr. Ruzzell. We’re here for you. We even got you some soup to warm you up!” the little girl’s voice spoke out with care. 

Salty, savory warmth graced his lips, bringing to his mind now a sunny day on a lone beach. There he saw his mother and father, and little Clikki racing up to the table. Tom Kat Soup. A mother’s love. The sun warming his soul. 

“Belore...” 

The paradise of his memory slowly begins to fade with the surrounding smiles and warmth. Another night falls around him. The sea breeze flows over his being. Weightlessness among clouds. Then gravity pulls him down once more. Icy flames of violet and cursed stars shower all around him. He falls through the tainted Darkwell, deep into its frozen waters as it inks out the sun. Laughter. Canting. Hymns turned into ritualistic chants. A fiery mass of sentient void glowers down at the falling man, clad in his suit of oxidized Khorium. Ruzzell raises his arm; a vorpal blade now gripped in his hand. The fire hisses an extinguished name now only known to him. 

The man feels no fear. 

The ethereal blade pierced into the shadow entity, rupturing its dark heart. The daemon dwindles into a smoldering pile of ash. In its place was a husk of a man; the bandit he had stabbed days ago in a dark alley. The shadows flee from the hero as each one is dispatched. 

Clash, clang, swipe! 

“The darkness never dies. We still live in the deep places of the world and in the hearts of people. You persist in vain...” 

Ruzzell drops his blade to the ground as he hears a sacred word echoing louder and louder with each refrain. He knew this word. He heard it many years ago. Many days ago. Continuing even now. 

“Belore... Belore... BELORE!” he joined in the prayer as the light inside of him grew brighter. The well he found himself in rekindles its warm light once more. The darkness burns again from within and outwards as the vision of the Dawnwell breaks out in his mind. He is sitting on the edge of a wall now, overlooking Silvermoon and Quel'danas. Beside him is a little girl, with flowers of light and a name invocative of the elves’ sacred sun. The scent of Tranquility Bloom floods his senses, and the presence of two sets of eyes fall upon him now. Blurry-eyed; he awakens to find the astonishment of a mother and daughter looking down to him. Excited chatter breaks out in the building as more people enter to check up on him.  

“Ruzzell! You’re awake!” cheers Dawn as she hugs his throat lovingly. 

The glinting of sunlight breaks through the curtains of his room, blessing him with its warmth once more. 

Day 5 Prey/Abundance 

(TRIGGER WARNING: Graphic Violence, Sexual Assault, Death)

Twilight had fallen over Silvermoon city, casting its fleeting rays of tangerine warmth that struggled in vain against the cold shadows of night. The ringing of resonance bells signaled the beginning of the evening chansons; a marked difference from the religious chants during the day. Dawn and her mother had spent the whole day at the market, shopping around for good deals on silk spools and fresh produce. Ruzzell was spotted making a delivery to the farmer’s market and the elven child was delighted to see her new friend again earlier that day. 

“Mommy, I still can’t believe I saw him again! Wasn’t he so nice?” the child tugged at her mother’s sleeve playfully. 

“He certainly was! A proper gentleman. He even helped us pick out some fresh bloodberries! They’ll make for a wonderful tart after dinner~” her mother said, pulling Dawn closer to her side. The way back home led through a few smaller alleys away from the main road, so she was more cautious now. Silvermoon was relatively safe, but some parts of the city were still notorious for attracting the wrong crowd. Azure braziers illuminated where the sun could not reach; little havens marking the way along the secluded shops leading up to Murder Row. 

The scent of burning aromatics from nearby censers mingled with the fading salt breeze as the family walked deeper down the alley. A skid of dusty stone in a far-off corner caused the mother to cling to her child closer. Her heart skipped a beat, fully alert of her surroundings now. Glowing eyes scanned the immediate area but found no cause for the sound. Cautiously, the two continued, passing by a darkened arch of a nearby building. No lights inside or signs of recent occupancy were found. After some minutes of uninterrupted silence, Dawn’s mother began to relax again. 

“Looks like we’ll be home in time for our evening prayers!” she said sweetly, tugging at her child’s hand. “Have you thought of your blessings for tonight?” Dawn glanced up at her mother and gleamed at her. 

“Oh yes mommy! I am blessed for having an amazing mommy who is so kind and beautiful and who makes the best lynx pie!” Her mother giggles at her daughter’s sweetness, proud of what a good child she had raised. “I’m also blessed with the flowers from our lands gardens and the birds that visit it, even those birdsongs that wake us up!” 

“Oh my, those are some blessings! And I’m blessed to have such a sweetheart like you, my little flower~” She boops her child’s nose playfully, distracting herself long enough to spot the familiar golden lights of the main thoroughfare. A sense of relief washes over her as they hasten their pace towards the exit. Then, a presence was felt, as if several eyes were upon them. Dawn bumps into her mother’s thigh and glances up in confusion. The child sees fear on her mother’s soft features as she pulls her daughter under her cloak in protection. Three bandits had dropped down from the rooftops, surrounding the family. 

“Aww, look at that! Two pretty flowers blew in far away from their gardens~” a masked elf taunted. 

Dawn’s mother reaches for her side to draw her pistol when the prick of a dagger grazes along her throat from behind. Her arm is wrenched back as the second assailant trapped her in his hold. 

“Don’t even think about it bitch, or else your little girl there is dead.” 

Tears streamed down her mother’s cheeks as she tried not to scream. Dawn glanced around in horror as the two strangers came close and then felt a solid hand grip on her shoulder. Glancing up, she sees an elf with a jagged scar down his cheek and a sick grin smiling down at her. 

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?~” 

“DAWN RUN!” her mother shrieked out in fear for her daughter. Without question, Dawn elbowed her assailant in the nethers. The man fumbled in pain and clutched at the child’s shoulder. The child manages to slip out of the man’s grip as her shawl pulls away from her shoulders. Stumbling past barrels, the little girl bounds away with the elf giving a short chase before giving up. 

Tears streaming down her ruddy cheeks, Dawn meanders down the darkened alleyways back to the marketplace. She sees no guards nearby in her panic and decides to run back to where the fruit stands were. The familiar green face of her friend was just in view. Ruzzell was dropping off a few more parcels to the shopkeeper when he spotted Dawn running up to him. 

“RUZZELL HELP!!” the child gripped and pulled at his wrist, frantically trying to get him to come along. 

“Woah, woah! Easy Dawn! What’s the mattah? Where’s ya mommy?” he said in growing concern now. 

“M-my mommy! There are these men! T-they had knives and hurt her an-and!!” she stammered inconsolably. Realizing the severity of the situation, he firmly held her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. 

“Where is she?” 

She turned and pointed towards the side alleys leading towards Murder Row. He knew exactly where to go now. The fruit seller came out of his shop to see the two, and Ruzzell hands off Dawn to the man. 

“Look after her and call the guards! There is a mugging in Murder Row!” he says before darting off down towards the alleys.  

Ducking in and out of narrow passageways and darkened corridors, Ruzzell swept aisles left and right, pausing and running off again, looking for any signs of the mother. A sharp scream rang out nearby, followed by the aggressive grunting and shouting of men. Ears perked, he darts towards the commotion and finds a man wrestling with a woman to the ground. Another is rummaging in a torn pack, searching for valuables while the third spots Ruzzell. 

“Hey! We got company!” 

The assailant climbs off the sobbing woman who clutches at her torn dress and calls out for the goblin. 

“You best be moving along you little imp before you get hur-ghhh" the man gurgled mid-sentence as Ruzzell’s rapier pierces his lung and twists around. The man falls to the ground, clutching the bleeding wound as the goblin pulls free. 

The would-be rapist sees the man silently approaching him and attempts to draw out the woman’s pistol to shoot before a parrying dagger is tossed his ribs. The man yelps in pain and moves to aim the pistol at the mother instead. Before he can pull the trigger, Ruzzell leaps on top of the elf and wrestles with the man on the cold ground. The hero grips the man’s wrist and slams it into cobbles, trying to disarm him. A twist of the dagger in his ribs causes excruciating pain as the man lets go and tries to push the goblin off of him. As Ruzzell begins to overpower the elf, he feels several punches on his back as the other bandit joins the fray. Reaching for the pistol now, the barrage of strikes against his back continues. All three move towards the gun, but Ruzzell manages to reach it first. Butting the grip against the man’s face, he manages to stun him long enough to aim the muzzle at the man’s cheek and fires. The elf goes limp instantly. The man under Ruzzell attempts to break away now in fear of dying next. His attention drawn back to the final assailant, Ruzzell grips his main gauche and jerks it upward, cracking the man’s rib and causing him to pass out in shock. 

Getting up with a slight limp now, the goblin approaches Dawn’s mother who scrambles over to her protector. 

“Light bless you Ruzzell! Those men, they were...” she stops as she holds him, feeling a wetness to his back. Holding her hand up, she sees they are stained red with his blood now. 

“Are you alright Mrs.?” he spoke softly, a warm smile on his face now as he tries to comfort her. 

“I... Ruzzell...” she spoke in disbelief, the shock of everything not being felt yet. The same could be said for the goblin as he continues to smile, his eyes slowly closing as the poisoned daggers continuing to leech into his back. 

The last thing Ruzzell hears is the singing of vespers as the darkness of night slowly envelops him. 

Day 4 Inadequate/Bond 

Belore... 

The chanting lingers on the sea breeze once more. Endless praise to the divine sun of the Sin’dorei. It didn’t matter what part of Silvermoon one would find themselves in; one could always hear the faintest whisp of that beloved word every now and then, a constant assurance of the sun, its warmth and the promise of a new day. That same sun bared down on Ruzzell, as if to shine a beam on him. An actor in his own stage with no one to witness his efforts. He sat at the edge of the harbor, lost in countless negative thoughts. He gave up the wine days ago, but his own insecurities welled within him. Trying to recall his lessons learned, the kind words of friends, remembrance of all the good he has done. Clawing at the edges of the light are the shadows of his misdeeds. A glimpse of darkness within him. Things he’s tried to forget, but always dormant and lying in wait for those quiet hours alone. He could almost make out some distant laughter behind those melodic prayers as he meditated. Weary eyes closed as he basked in the radiance of the sun, trying to find his peace. 

“Hey mister! Are you a plant?” 

A soft, youthful voice interrupted his meditation. Turning to his side, he’d find a Blood Elf girl with bright green eyes looking at him curiously. In her hands she clutched a wicker basket full of assorted flowers. 

“What? No! I ain’t a plant!” 

The child blinked and tilted her head, more questions coming up now. 

“You sure you’re not a plant mister? You look like one of those green plant people from the Lightbloom.” 

Flustered, the goblin stammered as if insulted. 

“No, I’m a goblin! We have green skin. Well, most of us anyways.” 

Upon hearing that he was a goblin, the child’s eyes grew large in wonder and excitement. 

“Whaaaa! A goblin! No way! I’ve never met a goblin before! Wooow, you’re so cool!” the child gleamed at him, now walking around his person to get a better look at him. Ruzzell leans back at the invasion of his personal space and falls back off the ledge of the stone wall. Sunhat and glass dangling off his prominent nose, the girl giggles at his silly actions. 

“You’re funny!” 

“A-am not!” 

“Hahaha! I like you, mister! My name is Dawn! My mommy named me that because I brightened up her day, just like the sun!” Extending a tiny hand out to him, a delicate bracelet made up of daisies encircled around her wrist. Ruzzell had never been around kids much, so he was a bit awkward. He took her hand and shook it gently. 

“Dawn... I’m Ruzzell! Nice to meet you.” He offered her a warm smile, the glint of his golden canines catching the child’s interest now. 

“Ohh, your teeth are gold! You must be from Silvermoon too! Everything here is covered in gold!” She chimed brightly with a gap-toothed smile. Her innocence and purity melted something in Ruzzell’s heart. He hadn’t talked to someone so sweet and honest before. Climbing up on the ledge again, he neatened his dress shirt and cleared his throat. 

“Well, I used to live here a long time ago.” 

“Oh, you must be really old then Ruzzell! I never seen a goblin like you before, and I’ve been all over Silvermoon, haha!” 

“Yeah, this was back when...” he paused, those memories of being shamed out of the city flooding back. 

“Back when all those undead monsters still haunted our city?” she finished his sentence for him, looking up to his saddened face. 

Glancing down to her expecting eyes, he offered a soft smile. “Yeah. I actually fought one of those monsters here long ago.” 

A spark in her emerald eyes dazzled in the sunlight upon hearing this. “Waaaa, you’re a hero too! You’re amazing! Thank you for keeping our people safe mister!” 

Her words struck something very deep in his heart. Ruzzell’s eyes burned as he felt something wet run down his cheek. 

“Ruzzell? Why are you crying? Was it something I said?” she asked in concern. 

Blinking through the unexpected tears, he wiped his blurry eyes now. “No... it’s just... nice to hear is all...” 

The child studied him for a moment, still unconvinced he was alright. “Hold on just one moment...” she says as she turns to rummage in her basket. “Here! This should make you feel better friend!” In her hands was a white flower with delicate petals and a magical glowing light. He carefully takes the gift with the reverence of something holy in his hands now. A wave of intense tranquility and comfort fills him, and then he sobs quietly. Seeing his sadness, she scoots closer and pats his shoulder. 

“It’s okay, Ruzzell. It’s just as flower.” 

Stifling his cry, he lets out a soft chuckle and nods. “T-thank you, Dawn... This is a lovely gift.” 

The child beams brightly to her new friend “Yay! If you’re ever having a bad day, just remember to look for the flowers and sun! They are gifts you can always have!” 

The goblin laughs softly and nods at her advice. Off down the road, an older woman’s voice calls out the girl’s name. Her pointed ears perked up, and she looked back towards the road. 

“Oh, my mommy is calling me now! I had better go. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Ruzzell! We’re friends forever now!” she gave his neck a tight hug before running off with her basket and waving back to him. 

Something deep inside of Ruzzell burned intensely in reaction to all the love and kindness. A taint that has stained him for years still remained in him, silenced by the light and warmth. Echoes of Silvermoon, K’aresh, and himself. He clutched at the tranquility bloom, the healing glow easing away the pain as those thoughts silence in reflection. 

On the sea breeze echoed the refrain of the Children of the Sun once more. 

Belore. 

Day 3 Shock/Reflect 

“Oh, look darling. My pawn is on the move once again. The sands of Fate shift once more~” The ethereal’s voice giggled teasingly to his partner. 

“N-no! I simply... had dust on my lens was all. Anyone would have read those signs wrong!” The broker protested his loss. 

The holoboard before the two changed once more, a pawn morphine into a figure of a ship moving diagonally across the board. 

“He’s moving quite expeditiously this time! No doubt he’ll be delighted to see us once more!” 

The pawn comes to a stop at the edge of the board and then vanishes. On another level, the same figure appears and then morphs back into a humanoid form. Blocks illuminate and dim as the figurine moves towards a representation of a tent on the board. As the two symbols phase together, the flap of the canopy flies open. A small figure clad in atmospheric armor barges in, and a filtered voice erupts from the helmet. 

“You!” 

The rotund broker turns slightly on his floating cushion, barely addressing the guest. 

“Oh, if it isn’t everyone’s hero. You know you cost me twenty dinars on that last wage-” 

Ruzzell marches right up to the opulent entity, grips his robes and promptly punches his ornate faceplate off his shoulders! 

“Te’zpiel!” shrieked the ethereal in shock as his partner was assaulted. The goblin and broker tussled on the sandy ground as Zheshad wrestles weakly to pull the small man away. A contingent of Ren’dorei scouts arrives and help sort out the dispute. 

“Settle down everyone! What’s going on here?” says one of the elves. The goblin is pulled away with the dented faceplate still gripped in his gauntlet as he struggles, not finished with his fight. 

“That windbag almost got me and my friends killed back on K’aresh! And now they’re playin’ another sick game!” 

The scout manages to free the metal plate from Ruzzell’s grip and hands it back to the broker. Pale blue flames settle once more where the man’s head would be, though not without a large crack along the edge of his plate. 

“This little green beast assaulted me! Arrest him at once!” 

The Ren’dorei scoffed at the broker’s demand. 

“This isn’t Tazavesh. This is a forward base. We keep the peace and boot out any belligerents.” The woman rests her hand on the hilt of her spellblade, then turns to Ruzzell with a scowl. “Try that again and we’ll personally escort you out into the wastes.” The elf nods to her fellow scout and lets go of the two. Before heading out, the woman makes a parting remark, “Also, a helmet isn’t needed to breathe out here you know...” 

Glancing around, Ruzzell realizes that none of the other people in the camp are wearing any specialized gear. He’d been overly cautious in K’aresh and assumed that Voidstorm would have been the same. Removing his helmet, he let out a deep sigh. 

“Well... this is all very exciting! I had hoped this would be a more favorable reunion Mr. Goldgrin. After all, I helped set you back on your right path.” 

“You almost got me devoured by a Void monster!” Ruzzell flailed. 

“But you succeeded! As I anticipated! Clever of mind, swift of feet! I saw you lure M’azzon towards Dimensius; a marvelous play!” 

Biting his lip in anger, Te’zpiel finally rose to his metallic feet and hovered back to his partner’s side. 

“Yes... you are an ‘unpredictable’ pawn in our game” he said as he straightened out his robes and seated on his cushion once more. Pulling up a bowl of glowing fruits, he plucks a morsel and offers it to his guest. “Void date?” 

Ruzzell turns his nose at the offering; the broker shrugged and dropped the fruit into his fire, the sweet flesh vaporizing almost instantly. “Suit yourself.” 

“Why did you send me a letter to come here? Haven’t I amused you two weirdos enough?” 

Zheshad gasps and fans out his bandaged fingers across his breast in feigned offense. “Ah! Such venom! Should you not call yourself Goldfang instead?” The otherworldly indigo of the inner lights shifted behind those vaguely humanoid bindings on his face, as if to smirk deviously. “But in all honesty, my friend, we called upon you here because Fate once again is at play.” 

Eyes wild, Ruzzell huffs in bemusement. “What Fate? I already played out that ‘story’ of yours.” 

The ethereal raises a finger to interject. “You have played out but one Chapter in this story, Mr. Goldgrin.” 

“A Story that persists for you until the Final Chapter” the broker adds to the riddle. 

“Chapter? Story? You make this out like I’m some kinda character in a novel you’re writing.” 

Cocking his hooded head to the side, the Zheshad looks to his partner and then back to Ruzzell. “In a way, we all are actors in a grand play. Such is Fate. Intertwined. Stories written and rewritten. Sometimes even collaborating narratives together.” 

Blinking in confusion, the goblin clicks his tongue and waves his hand dismissively at the notion. 

“You guys been hittin’ the hookah too much. Better lay off that magic zaza and buggin’ me for anymore of your hokum crap.” 

As Ruzzell turns to leave the tent, Zheshad stops him on the way out. 

“Your past is already written, solid as stone. But your future is always shifting like so much countless sand. It is in the present that you can see the cobbles of the paths before you.” 

Zheshad’s words managed to strike Ruzzell in a way he was not expecting. The goblin’s expression softened in some understanding of the expression. 

“Just reflect on my musings, hmm?” The ethereal assured then let go of the man’s arm. The goblin said nothing in turn but gave a nod before walking towards the portal back to Silvermoon.