Ghoul in the Closet
Emmons - December 21, 2005
"This has been an excellent evening," Emmons thought to himself,
"I've finally rescued that *explicit* reindeer, even if the
dragon burnt a bit," he brushed a bit of soot from his tabard, "I
still got to spend another evening with Wadjet..." He eyed her
while she spoke with Great Father Winter, a smile appearing
across Emmons face.
The two, along with Sehkar (and Winslow of course), were about to
head out to retrieve a lost shipment for those detestable green
salesmen. Finally, the holidays were setting in, and while the
incident with Licidion was still fresh in their minds, things
were looking up and seeming to go Emmons' way for once. As a
matter of fact, life was almost ideal, if it wasn't for the high
price of that di...it was about to happen again. He quickly
grabbed his hearthstone, and spoke into it above the din of
Orgrimmar's trade district, "Grims, I don't think I can join you
this evening." Wadjet and Sehkar didn't seem to notice Emmons
black out this time...
Some time had passed since his blackouts began, and they didn't
show any signs of stoping any time soon. Every time was the same,
Emmons would black out, his eyes would open, but not to what he
had seen before. He is surrounded in total darkness, nothingness,
just him, nothing else. Soon the darkness fades to a green, and
Emmons feels a nostalgic happiness, and he hears a voice, he
cannot make out the words, but it seems a familiar voice, but he
still cannot make out what is being said. The green happiness is
short lived however; every time, just as Emmons feels the voice
drawing nearer, almost able to make out what it is saying, the
green melts into a dark maroon, and he is overcome with hunger, a
hunger he knew all too well, a hunger that was gladly spent
afloat at sea, and not where it could do harm. The voice is still
there, and it is still a familiar one, but not...quite...the same
as before. Just as the hunger becomes unbearable, he always wakes
up. Sometimes minutes have passed, sometimes hours, once he had
blacked out for nearly two days before he awoke, and he always
had questions afterwards, questions he couldn't find answers to,
but unable to find in the document that had usually provided his
answers, the journal he had kept with him since life, it was
waterlogged and brittle, but it was the only reminder of who he
was before he had been transformed.
Emmons' first answer came by surprise and quite suddenly one
night. Emmons was smashed, drunker than he had been in quite some
time, as he sat in a circle on the floor of the Gallow's End
Tavern, when Tekebob aproached him with a young, and obviously
newly undead Warlock.
"This mon be wantin' to see ya, Emmons. He be sayin' he have very
urgent news for ya.", the troll said, sporting his overalls,
fishing hat, and a pitchfork.
Emmons nodded at Tekebob, and the warlock stepped forward.
"Emmons, I've been searching for you for quite some time now, but
the news I have for you is...well...can we speak in private?",
the newcomer Warlock spoke, obviously not comfortable around the
other hordemembers around him.
"Aye, let's duck into the *hic* cellar for a moment." Emmons got
up, stumbling while Clys, Danlily, and Vuudu began dancing, and
followed the Warlock to the cellar.
Once they arrived, the warlock turned around and began to speak,
"Emmons, my name is Burine, I bear sad news, and you may want to
sit down." Emmons plopped to the floor, and tried to remain
balanced sitting. "First off, this may come as a shock to you,
but in life, I bore the last name, Indiana, Emmons, I'm you're
brother." Emmons sat straight up, he was leery of strangers
claiming to be kin.
"Well what proof do ye have that you and I come from the same
blood?" Burine slowly rolled up his sleeve, revealing a red and
yellow shield, with a dagger and a sword behind it tattooed onto
his bicep. It was the Indiana family crest, a tattoo that Emmons
also bore in the same exact spot. Emmons immediately sobered up
and spoke, "so you must be the one I read about in my journal,
I've been mad at my livin' self for not clearly namin' the people
I was talkin' about."
"Aye, but that's not all I came to tell you, that after you
dissapeared five years ago, Mother and Father devoted their whole
being to finding what happened to you, the King of Stormwind even
granted father a few of his best knights to aid, for some favor
he owed him, the last we heard of them before they too
dissapeared, they were headed here to the Undercity, but I fear
they became lost in the plaguelands, they are either dead, or
amongst the scourge's ranks." Emmons immediately recognized
everything from his visions, the voice, at least the first one,
had been Burine.
Emmons would need time to absorb the news, but today was a day of
celebration of the Winter Veil, and he was determined to let
nothing ruin that, he brought Burine up, introduced him to the
Grims that had remained there, all were clearly inebriated, and
nearly all were missing articles of clothing, but he did not
stay. Emmons wished Burine, and everyone the best, and set off to
his favorite casket in the Undercity for some thinking, but he
never got there, for on the way out, he blacked out again...
More time, still no answers...
Burine, Wadjet, and Emmons had toiled long and hard searching for
clues to the past, and their link to the present. The blackouts
weren't lessening at all, and none of the three could find any
information to help. In the mean time, Emmons took to his
favorite pasttimes to get his mind off things, fishing and
drinking. It was during one of these fishing trips that Wadjet
found him, and presented her idea, "Hi Emmy.", the two made idle
chitchat for a while, "...and I was thinkin', remember the potion
you took a while back, the one that put you to sleep, an' helped
you remember thing? I was thinkin' Burine should take some, and
maybe it can help him remember!"
Emmons pondered this a moment, drunkenly trying to recall what
she was talking about, "Oh yes, the Elixir of Deep Sleep, or
Draught of Sleepy-...oh, whatever it was called. We'll have to
find an alchemist to whip one up, and give it to him. Thank you
Wadjet, I would have never thought of that myself." Emmons took
another gulp of his Darkmoon Special Reserve, "Come on, lets go
to Booty Bay, there are shops there you'd like."
Wadjet responded worriedly, "I dunno, there's bad alliance there,
last time I went, it took you, Trilok, and Eelai to get me out."
Putting on his most macho voice, Emmons said, "Don't worry ma'am,
I'll protect you, now come on, I'll buy you somethin' nice."
The two traveld down the road to Booty Bay, after stopping by the
shops a bit, Wadjet purchasing a new shirt, and Emmons presenting
her with a pet Senegal parrot, he took her to a place with deep
meaning to him.
"One moment, I see I have some mail, v2, go fetch it for me." The
little mechanical squirrel jumped off his shoulder and began to
swim back shore. The small rampart overlooked the ocean, Emmons
had been here many a time, the Sunsets were beautiful, and the
sunrises even more so, but now was not the time for that. Wadjet,
last time I was here, I ran into an old friend."
"Oh? Friends? Who was it?", Wadjet replied, quizzically.
"Aye, his name is Nysphwylde, he's changed his name to avoid me
now, he was the one formerly known as Styffmystyr.", Emmons voice
rose, clearly getting angry, "It's his fault I am what I am, he
caused me death," he was now practically yelling, "He pulled the
booby trap, and left me to die with the scourge!" Emmons was
panting now, Wadjet looked almost afraid of the emotions he was
showing. "I...I'm sorry I blew up like that, I..." But v2 was
pulling on Emmons' pant leg, letter in mouth. Emmons opened it
and read it. "It's from Lord Ravenholdt, he's requesting my
presence, and I may be gone for a few days, I should get some
rest at the inn." Wadjet nodded, and said, "Well, I will lay with
you till you fall asleep." The two retreated to the inn, and
sleep came quickly, and Emmons slept calmly that night.