The morning mist over Booty Bay hung thick and gray. Salty wind carried the reek of fish guts and rotting seaweed, mixing with distant tavern noise that rolled across the weathered dock planks. Deren stood beside a merchant ship that had just moored, wearing the clothes Onyxia had provided—a dark brown linen tunic and black trousers. Though the fabric was coarse, it was at least clean and whole, leagues better than his previous rags.
He bent down and scooped up a handful of seawater, scrubbing his face vigorously. The icy water shocked away the grime, revealing pale skin and those unsettlingly bright eyes.
"You are certain this will work?"
A cool voice drifted from behind him. Deren turned to see "Selina Morningstar"—Onyxia's high elf mage disguise—leaning against a wooden crate. Silver hair shimmered faintly in the morning light, pointed ears peeking through the strands. A Dalaran insignia glinted at her collar, her deep blue robes pristine despite the filthy dock. Everything about her screamed elegance and aloofness, utterly at odds with Booty Bay's chaos.
Deren grinned, water droplets falling from his chin. "Of course it will work! Look—" He straightened his back, trying to appear less skeletal. "I am a minor noble who escaped when Lordaeron fell to the Scourge. My family has fallen on hard times, leaving me with only my last remaining assets. And you—" He winked at Onyxia. "You are the mage advisor my family employed at great expense, now obligated to protect me as I travel the world."
The corner of Onyxia's mouth twitched. Her slender fingers tapped her staff, draconic vertical pupils flashing beneath the illusion. "So your grand plan is for me to accompany you in this childish charade?"
"This is called infiltration!" Deren lowered his voice, pulling a handful of gold from his pocket. "Look, we have this. In Booty Bay, gold is the best passport."
He suddenly leaned closer, catching the faint scent of dragon scales emanating from her—even disguised as an elf, that oppressive presence remained. Deren whispered, "Think about it. If we immediately start searching for Old God clues or dragon secrets, your father's spies will notice at once. But two ordinary adventurers? No one will care."
Onyxia narrowed her eyes. Morning light fell across her illusory elven features, tracing perfect contours. She reached out to grasp Deren's chin, sharp nails nearly piercing his skin. "Remember this, human. If I discover you are wasting my time..."
"My head will hang on Stormwind's gates, I know." Deren stared fearlessly into her eyes, even smiling. "But right now, we need lodgings first."
He nimbly escaped her grasp, already adopting the bearing of a noble youth as he turned and strode toward the busiest tavern in the dock district. Onyxia watched his retreating figure, complex emotions flickering in her dragon eyes.
This scrawny human now walked with genuine fallen nobility's grace, as if another soul inhabited those coarse clothes.
"Interesting," she murmured, tapping her staff once before following.
At the tavern entrance, a goblin missing a front tooth hawked his wares. "Fresh-baked pies! Five copper each!" Deren stopped, touching his stomach—he could not remember his last hot meal.
Onyxia noticed his hesitation and snorted. "Do not tell me you—"
Before she finished, Deren had already pulled out coins. "Two, please!" He turned and handed one to Onyxia. "Want to try? They say Booty Bay's pies are the best in the Eastern Kingdoms."
Onyxia in her high elf form stared at the greasy pie as if regarding something distasteful. Eventually she accepted it, carefully pinching the oiled paper edge with her fingertips.
Deren had already bitten into his, gasping from the heat but refusing to spit it out. He mumbled through burning mouthfuls, "From now on, I am Deren Lawson, and you are Selina Morningstar. Remember our new identities."
Watching this grease-smeared "noble youth," Onyxia suddenly thought this absurd theatrical production might be slightly more interesting than anticipated.
The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly, turning Booty Bay's rusty tin roofs into reflective sheets of glare. Deren raised his hand to shade his eyes, affecting elegance as he brushed nonexistent dust from his collar. Onyxia—no, "Selina Morningstar" now—followed half a step behind, her staff tapping rhythmically against cobblestones, her face bearing the characteristic coldness of high elven nobility.
"Ah! Esteemed guests!"
A shrill voice burst from the side. Deren looked down to see a gold-adorned goblin rubbing his hands together, beaming up with a face-splitting grin. The goblin's green skin glistened with sweat in the sunlight, two gold teeth flashing when he smiled.
"I am Rizsik Goldfinger, Booty Bay's most professional guide!" The goblin bowed exaggeratedly, the feather on his hat nearly poking Deren's nose. "Seeing your distinguished bearing, you must be new here, yes? What services do you require? Sightseeing? Shopping? Or—"
"Lodging." Deren interrupted, pulling a silver coin from his pocket and flipping it deftly between his fingers. "We need a quiet, comfortable, and private place."
The silver coin's gleam reflected in the goblin's pupils. His eyeballs tracked the coin's rotation like a cat watching prey, his smile growing even more radiant.
"Oh! You have found the right person!" Rizsik snatched the silver coin with startling speed, as if afraid Deren might change his mind. "I have several prime properties available! Absolutely meeting your requirements!"
Deren nodded with affected restraint. "Lead the way."
Rizsik led them through the noisy marketplace, his mouth never stopping.
"How about this one? Oceanfront property! You can watch the sunrise every morning!" He pointed at a rickety wooden house, its second-floor balcony railing broken in sections, swaying dangerously in the breeze.
Deren's mouth twitched. "Too... breezy."
"Then how about this one? City center! Convenient transportation!" Rizsik gestured to a house pressed against a tavern, from which drunken howling and shattering glass could be heard even at midday.
Onyxia's frown deepened.
"Is there anything quieter?" Deren laughed dryly, pulling out another silver coin.
The goblin's eyes lit up. "Ah! You should have said so earlier!"
He led them into a secluded alley, finally stopping before an inconspicuous stone house. The building was modest but structurally sound. A few drought-resistant plants even grew by the door, lending it refinement. Most importantly—it stood far from the harbor's clamor, with almost no foot traffic.
"This was originally an alchemist's residence. Later he... uh, had a small experimental accident." Rizsik grinned sheepishly as he pushed open the door. Dust cascaded down in sheets. "But absolutely safe! And reasonably priced!"
Deren surveyed the interior. The furnishings were simple but complete. There was even a workbench in the corner with dried potion residue still visible on its surface. He glanced at Onyxia, who nodded slightly—the place barely met her standards.
"We will take it. Three months to start." After Deren negotiated the price, he gestured to his "bodyguard"—Onyxia grudgingly pulled out a coin purse.
Rizsik accepted the purse, weighing it with a smile that could not be contained. "Wise choice! Whatever else you need, just ask!"
Deren pondered, then suddenly lowered his voice. "By the way, I have some interest in alchemy... Are there any reliable material merchants nearby?"
The goblin's ears perked up. "You are asking the right person! My cousin's shop is in the dock district. Genuine goods at honest prices, fair to all!"
Deren smiled. "Excellent. I will visit later."
After the goblin left, Onyxia finally lost her patience.
"Have you gone mad?" She grabbed Deren's collar, dragon eyes flickering beneath the illusion. "We are not here on vacation! You spent so much gold just to rent a broken house?"
Deren calmly pried her fingers loose. "Calm down, Lady Selina." He deliberately emphasized the title. "We need a base of operations, and this place is perfect—secluded, inconspicuous, and..." He pointed at the workbench. "It even comes with experimental equipment."
Onyxia snorted and released her grip.
"I need to conduct experiments. After all, knowledge is knowledge but still requires experimental verification," Deren explained. "I promise, everything is for defeating your father."
Onyxia nodded in agreement but then suddenly froze as his next words registered. Dragon aura blazed as she snarled, "Wait—what did you just call him?"
Deren's eyes widened in mock innocence. "Your father? Deathwing?"
"You said something else." Her scales rippled beneath her skin. "You insect, do you presume—"
"Just a slip of the tongue! Just a slip!" Deren immediately raised his hands in surrender, backing away. "Please, Lady Onyxia, I misspoke!"
Onyxia huffed and turned away, ignoring him.
Dust choked the air inside the stone house. Sunlight slanted through the half-closed window, illuminating particles that danced like snow. Deren covered his nose and mouth, coughing twice. He waved his hand trying to disperse the cloud but achieved nothing.
"This place is filthier than I imagined..." he muttered, bending to pick up a tattered notebook from the floor. He flipped through pages of scrawled alchemical formulas, most content obscured by stains and water damage.
Onyxia stood in the doorway, brow furrowed in distaste. She raised her hand, fingertips emanating dark purple light as she murmured a draconic incantation.
In an instant, an invisible force swept the entire room. The dust seemed grasped by an unseen hand, rapidly gathering into a clump that compressed and vanished. Cobwebs fell away of their own accord. Stains on the floor evaporated. Even the moldy bedding became fresh and clean, as though newly laundered.
Deren's eyes widened. "That works?"
Onyxia sniffed lightly. "Mortals always prefer solving problems the most foolish way."
Deren grinned and gave a thumbs up. "Worthy of the Black Dragon Princess—even housecleaning is stylish."
She ignored him, walking directly to the window. With a light finger stroke, the window banged open completely, fresh sea breeze pouring in and replacing the stale air.
Deren sat at the newly cleaned wooden table, rummaging through his pack for several crumpled parchments and a quill. He dipped it in ink and began writing and drawing rapidly.
Onyxia glanced over, discovering he was creating neither maps nor runes, but a strange chart densely marked with times, locations, and names.
"What is this?" she could not help asking.
"A schedule." Deren did not look up, his pen moving rapidly across paper. "We need to act in phases—step one, establish a foothold; step two, conduct fertilizer synthesis experiments; step three..."
His pen suddenly stopped, ink spreading into a small blot on the paper. He rubbed his temples, eyelids growing heavy.
Onyxia noticed his exhaustion—this human had not properly rested for several consecutive days. She narrowed her eyes, fingertips glowing faintly again.
"You should sleep," she said coolly.
Deren was about to protest when sudden intense drowsiness struck. His vision blurred, then went dark as he slumped onto the table.
Onyxia waved lightly. His body lifted on a cushion of magical force, floating slowly to the bed nearby.
When Deren woke, night had fallen. He bolted upright, feeling surprisingly energized despite the disorientation. His empty stomach protested vigorously. Fortunately, he spotted a steaming cup of tea and a bread roll with smoked meat on the nearby table.
He froze, then turned to look across the room.
Onyxia sat by the window, moonlight spilling across her silver hair with cold luster. She held an old book found in the house, not looking up as she spoke:
"Eat, mortal. Your stomach rumbled three times while you slept, preventing me from concentrating on my reading."
Deren blinked, then smiled. He grabbed the bread and took a large bite, mumbling around the food, "Thanks. Never thought the great Black Dragon Princess would look after people."
Onyxia snapped the book shut with a sharp crack, glaring coldly at him. "Say another word, and next time you sleep on the floor."
Deren wisely shut his mouth, though the smile at his lips could not be hidden. He finished the bread in several bites, downed half the cup of tea, then returned to the table with renewed vigor to continue perfecting his plan.
Onyxia watched his back, inscrutable emotion flickering in her dragon eyes.