I began to run after her, still wondering if I have been a fool to trust her. Turning my head around I saw what was following us, one of the things created by the Breakers, a Fel Reaver.
A short whistle brought me my mount. Saddling it, I started after her at full speed. She were still running afoot. Grabbing her arm I pulled her in the saddle of my ram and pressed on forward.
“Thanks for waking me up back there.”
“No problem. We should make it a little more to the east. There is a camp there where we could get some rest, and let your mount roam free.”
“Good, we do be goin’ there. By the way, they do be callin’ me Nuir.”
“And me Sygn. Where do ya be headin’?”
“To the outpost there, but I did not know how far that was.”
Reaching the outpost, pieces of a Fel Reaver laid scattered around the camp.
“Don’t look so surprised. It looks like they managed to down one of these things. Anyhow let me introduce you to the commander of this outpost.”
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
A sleeping dwarf
Sygn had never in her life seen something more reckless and foolish than the sight she had right before her eyes in that moment. A dwarf, swaddled in a striped blanket and by all means and ends soundly asleep, having a nearby rock as his only shelter.
Who could have been so careless to fall asleep in such a place, in a land where the slightest moment off guard could mean death - and an ugly sort of it? Well, his snores were probably enough to scare half the Legion away, she chuckled to herself. Nonetheless, she could not leave him there. Maybe he was in trouble, lost in this savage land, where even flying rocks might bash your head in without warning. Not that she had ever seen a lost dwarf before. But one could never know...
"Heya! Wake up!"
The stout paladin accompanied her shout with some dedicated prodding with the handle of her hefty axe.
The sleeping dwarf groaned, then stretched and blinked hazily towards the light and the sound of her voice.
"What do ya want, woman?" he asked, obviously irritated. "Can't a man get some decent sleep in 'tis place?"
As if to answer his words, the ground shook violently a couple of times. He jumped to his feet, half stumbling on the blanket, trying to maintain his equilibrium.
"Whadda?"
The ground trembled again, as if under the weight of some enormous, purposeful steps. Sygn whirled around to look over her shoulder, then clasped a fist on her black braid as she turned back to him.
"Me thinks we're goin' to find out how swift ya can be, dwarf", she said, half mockingly; then suddenly her voice became urgent and maybe a little scared. "Now run!"
Who could have been so careless to fall asleep in such a place, in a land where the slightest moment off guard could mean death - and an ugly sort of it? Well, his snores were probably enough to scare half the Legion away, she chuckled to herself. Nonetheless, she could not leave him there. Maybe he was in trouble, lost in this savage land, where even flying rocks might bash your head in without warning. Not that she had ever seen a lost dwarf before. But one could never know...
"Heya! Wake up!"
The stout paladin accompanied her shout with some dedicated prodding with the handle of her hefty axe.
The sleeping dwarf groaned, then stretched and blinked hazily towards the light and the sound of her voice.
"What do ya want, woman?" he asked, obviously irritated. "Can't a man get some decent sleep in 'tis place?"
As if to answer his words, the ground shook violently a couple of times. He jumped to his feet, half stumbling on the blanket, trying to maintain his equilibrium.
"Whadda?"
The ground trembled again, as if under the weight of some enormous, purposeful steps. Sygn whirled around to look over her shoulder, then clasped a fist on her black braid as she turned back to him.
"Me thinks we're goin' to find out how swift ya can be, dwarf", she said, half mockingly; then suddenly her voice became urgent and maybe a little scared. "Now run!"
Tuesday, 31 March 2009
The Broken Lands
Our battles brought me to the place where everything happened, The Broken Lands. Until now we waged our war at home, but now we are taking the war to them.
The broken lands, the place where it all happened, well most of it… old tales say that this is where the third war has started from, our allies say that this is the place that they call home, but now this is the place where we fight, fight against our enemies, fight against the bigger menace.
Any tale that I have heard does not come to depict the state of this place, a barren wasteland, floating in mid air, where a wrong step might kill you. I wonder how this place still stays together, but this is a question that only our allies might be able to answer.
This is my third day here and our settlement is under siege, a constant war against the Breakers. I can only wish that the enemies don’t have an easier time. But siege or no siege, other things must be cared for and arranged. The Breakers roam the land and some ‘cleaning’ is in order.
The captain of the outpost sent a couple of his men somewhere to the east of the settlement to survey the area, but he has not received word from them in days, so now he’s asking for volunteers to search for them but no one wants to get out from the relative safety of the settlement.
I volunteered; it would give me something to do while I can explore the lands and bash some Breaker heads in if I have the chance, and lend a hand to the defense.
Starting out, one thing struck me… rocks floating in the air. I knew that this land is broken but nothing prepared me for this. It looks like besides the Breakers, I have to keep an eye out for flying rocks that might bash my head… a man has to do what a man has to do.
From the speed of my mount I could see traces left by the men from the outpost, but nothing that indicated if they were alive or dead, and light was fading soon, making my search even harder.
I decided to pull off from the road to find a place where I could make camp for the night, but this barren waste land had nothing to offer, except a place under the stars.
The broken lands, the place where it all happened, well most of it… old tales say that this is where the third war has started from, our allies say that this is the place that they call home, but now this is the place where we fight, fight against our enemies, fight against the bigger menace.
Any tale that I have heard does not come to depict the state of this place, a barren wasteland, floating in mid air, where a wrong step might kill you. I wonder how this place still stays together, but this is a question that only our allies might be able to answer.
***
This is my third day here and our settlement is under siege, a constant war against the Breakers. I can only wish that the enemies don’t have an easier time. But siege or no siege, other things must be cared for and arranged. The Breakers roam the land and some ‘cleaning’ is in order.
The captain of the outpost sent a couple of his men somewhere to the east of the settlement to survey the area, but he has not received word from them in days, so now he’s asking for volunteers to search for them but no one wants to get out from the relative safety of the settlement.
I volunteered; it would give me something to do while I can explore the lands and bash some Breaker heads in if I have the chance, and lend a hand to the defense.
Starting out, one thing struck me… rocks floating in the air. I knew that this land is broken but nothing prepared me for this. It looks like besides the Breakers, I have to keep an eye out for flying rocks that might bash my head… a man has to do what a man has to do.
From the speed of my mount I could see traces left by the men from the outpost, but nothing that indicated if they were alive or dead, and light was fading soon, making my search even harder.
I decided to pull off from the road to find a place where I could make camp for the night, but this barren waste land had nothing to offer, except a place under the stars.
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
Nuir
I am Nuir, of the Stone Watch clan and this is my story
I’ve been born in the Old World, in a place called Kharanos, right outside the walls of our greatest city, a quiet place but, we are at war, we have been at war forever, even since before I was born, ever since before my parents were born. Now it is hard to remember a time where there was peace in the word.
We have fought many battles during our history, among ourselves, with our allies, with our enemies, with everybody, but we have still managed to survive. The last one was gruesome and led to the destruction of one of our allied cities, Gnomeregan. Now the city is uninhabitable, but still there are treasures that need to be recovered from there and put to good use. We still go in the fallen city to recover items for our brethren the Gnomes. It is hard but is well worth it.
But this is not the war I am fighting in… the war for recovering the lost Gnomeregan… there is a bigger menace to our kind, the ones that wish to vanquish all life and hope… the ones that broke the World.
I’ve been born in the Old World, in a place called Kharanos, right outside the walls of our greatest city, a quiet place but, we are at war, we have been at war forever, even since before I was born, ever since before my parents were born. Now it is hard to remember a time where there was peace in the word.
We have fought many battles during our history, among ourselves, with our allies, with our enemies, with everybody, but we have still managed to survive. The last one was gruesome and led to the destruction of one of our allied cities, Gnomeregan. Now the city is uninhabitable, but still there are treasures that need to be recovered from there and put to good use. We still go in the fallen city to recover items for our brethren the Gnomes. It is hard but is well worth it.
But this is not the war I am fighting in… the war for recovering the lost Gnomeregan… there is a bigger menace to our kind, the ones that wish to vanquish all life and hope… the ones that broke the World.
Orgrimmar
“Orgrimmar… the biggest city of them all. We are here. Don’t you like it?”
“Well… it’s big… and kind of menacing…”
“Don’t worry. Nothing can harm us here… well… almost nothing. Let’s go in, and find an inn for the night. We’ll have plenty of time to see the city tomorrow.”
“OK, let’s go in… but those guards upfront look menacing.”
“As long as we don’t start trouble, the guard won’t trouble us, and besides that, I’m and orc and you are with me. As far as I can remember, the trolls are our allies thus you have free passage in any of the orc towns.”
Why is she so afraid of Orgrimmar?
“Evening sir. Where could we find an inn?”
“Evening warrior. The inn is in the Valley of Strength, just beyond the gates. Take the road in and it’s on the right side. If you have trouble finding it, ask for Gryshka and everybody will tell you where she is.”
We found the inn where the guard told us we would find it. Talking to Gryshka we secured a place for the night in exchange for only a few coppers, the only money we had left in out pockets. Tomorrow we must start and do something to secure some more coppers in our pockets.
Lith’jin took the bed, although you could hardly call it a bed, a stone bench in the common room of the inn, and Morgg took the floor right beside her. Although they both paid for the bed he could not let her sleep on the floor and he was too of a gentleman… for an orc… to sleep in the same bed.
Moments later, Lith’jin was fast asleep, and Morgg stood there beside her watching… he sensed her fear of the place, although no harm would come to her here.
Morning came over Orgrimmar, and the dryness of the desert came with it. Nights were cold here but Morgg was used to them. Lifting his head from the floor, his eyes landed on her, still sleeping in on the stone bench, curled up against the cold. They had to find something to do to get some coppers for the next night and for some food, but he could not wake her… not yet at least.
Going through his backpack he found some letters he had forgot about. He had to find the one that was written on the envelopes but Orgrimmar was a big place and finding that someone might take forever.
Meanwhile, Lith’jin woke up and started looking around as if she did not know where she was.
“Morning Lith’jin. We have to move fast if we want to eat tonight. We have to find Grezz Ragefist and give him the letters from Lar.”
“OK, let me pack up and we’ll go find him. Do you have any ideea where he might be?”
“I’ll find out where he is while you pack. I’ll be back shortly.” Morgg said while he was heading out of the common room.
“Morning madam”, Morgg said, approaching the innkeeper. “can you help me with something? I’m trying to find Grezz Ragefist. Do you know where he might be.”
“Grezz Ragefist… Grezz Ragefist… Grezz Ragefist… oh… yes… he is the battle master here in Orgrimmar, and I think you can find him in the Valley of Honor. Follow the road from the inn, make a right hand turn at the first crossroad and another right at the second crossroad.”
“Thank you madam.”
“Well Lith’jin, I found the one that we are looking for. And I can tell you that we’ll see the first real warrior…”
“Well… it’s big… and kind of menacing…”
“Don’t worry. Nothing can harm us here… well… almost nothing. Let’s go in, and find an inn for the night. We’ll have plenty of time to see the city tomorrow.”
“OK, let’s go in… but those guards upfront look menacing.”
“As long as we don’t start trouble, the guard won’t trouble us, and besides that, I’m and orc and you are with me. As far as I can remember, the trolls are our allies thus you have free passage in any of the orc towns.”
Why is she so afraid of Orgrimmar?
“Evening sir. Where could we find an inn?”
“Evening warrior. The inn is in the Valley of Strength, just beyond the gates. Take the road in and it’s on the right side. If you have trouble finding it, ask for Gryshka and everybody will tell you where she is.”
We found the inn where the guard told us we would find it. Talking to Gryshka we secured a place for the night in exchange for only a few coppers, the only money we had left in out pockets. Tomorrow we must start and do something to secure some more coppers in our pockets.
Lith’jin took the bed, although you could hardly call it a bed, a stone bench in the common room of the inn, and Morgg took the floor right beside her. Although they both paid for the bed he could not let her sleep on the floor and he was too of a gentleman… for an orc… to sleep in the same bed.
Moments later, Lith’jin was fast asleep, and Morgg stood there beside her watching… he sensed her fear of the place, although no harm would come to her here.
***
Morning came over Orgrimmar, and the dryness of the desert came with it. Nights were cold here but Morgg was used to them. Lifting his head from the floor, his eyes landed on her, still sleeping in on the stone bench, curled up against the cold. They had to find something to do to get some coppers for the next night and for some food, but he could not wake her… not yet at least.
Going through his backpack he found some letters he had forgot about. He had to find the one that was written on the envelopes but Orgrimmar was a big place and finding that someone might take forever.
Meanwhile, Lith’jin woke up and started looking around as if she did not know where she was.
“Morning Lith’jin. We have to move fast if we want to eat tonight. We have to find Grezz Ragefist and give him the letters from Lar.”
“OK, let me pack up and we’ll go find him. Do you have any ideea where he might be?”
“I’ll find out where he is while you pack. I’ll be back shortly.” Morgg said while he was heading out of the common room.
“Morning madam”, Morgg said, approaching the innkeeper. “can you help me with something? I’m trying to find Grezz Ragefist. Do you know where he might be.”
“Grezz Ragefist… Grezz Ragefist… Grezz Ragefist… oh… yes… he is the battle master here in Orgrimmar, and I think you can find him in the Valley of Honor. Follow the road from the inn, make a right hand turn at the first crossroad and another right at the second crossroad.”
“Thank you madam.”
“Well Lith’jin, I found the one that we are looking for. And I can tell you that we’ll see the first real warrior…”
Monday, 16 February 2009
Road to Orgrimmar (2)
“Don’t be sad”, Morgg said quietly. Lith’jin shot him a glance from under the cloth tied around her forehead. The small red braids in which she had done her hair seemed the spikes of a very angry porcupine.
They had left the farm that very morning, after two days, leaving behind a very depressed woman, despite the bravery she had tried to show them.
Misha Tor’kren's only son had been missing for some time when they arrived. Morgg had volunteered to go searching for the young orc, who had apparently gone to hunt crocolisks on the bank of the nearby Southfury river. Lith’jin had been excited about the search at first. She had never seen a “river”, nor crocolisks and it all sounded like a promising adventure.
Soon enough though, they had made a grim discovery on the river bank. Torn clothing, remnants of a half chewed boot and a bronze medallion seemed to be all that remained of the young missing orc.
There could be no doubt that the hunter had turned into pray and the sight of the crocolisks lazily sleeping nearby – huge beasts with scaled backs and large, strong jaws – scared Lith’jin so badly that Morgg had only caught on with her halfway to the farm.
A coward, she berated herself afterwards, even though she told him nothing. She dreamed of seeing the world, being a hero, yet she had ran away at the first threat.
Mama Tor’kren had received the news as badly as expected. However, despite her understandable grief she had given them shelter for the night, plenty of food and even some clothing that remained from her son…He would not be needing it anymore, she had said, and it was a small consolation to her that someone would use those things - and maybe spare a thought for the deceased.
“Ah keep rememberin' tat woman…” Lith’jin said quietly. “Poor her…”
Morgg patted her shoulder, then, when she shot him another angry glance, pretended to be only arranging the straps of her backpack.
“Life’s like that”, he said and Lith’jin though she saw a faint trace of sadness in his eyes. “Well, let us increase the pace a little or we’ll be sleeping on the road!” he added briskly.
He started forwards and she trotted after him, coughing from the dust raised by their boots.
They had left the farm that very morning, after two days, leaving behind a very depressed woman, despite the bravery she had tried to show them.
Misha Tor’kren's only son had been missing for some time when they arrived. Morgg had volunteered to go searching for the young orc, who had apparently gone to hunt crocolisks on the bank of the nearby Southfury river. Lith’jin had been excited about the search at first. She had never seen a “river”, nor crocolisks and it all sounded like a promising adventure.
Soon enough though, they had made a grim discovery on the river bank. Torn clothing, remnants of a half chewed boot and a bronze medallion seemed to be all that remained of the young missing orc.
There could be no doubt that the hunter had turned into pray and the sight of the crocolisks lazily sleeping nearby – huge beasts with scaled backs and large, strong jaws – scared Lith’jin so badly that Morgg had only caught on with her halfway to the farm.
A coward, she berated herself afterwards, even though she told him nothing. She dreamed of seeing the world, being a hero, yet she had ran away at the first threat.
Mama Tor’kren had received the news as badly as expected. However, despite her understandable grief she had given them shelter for the night, plenty of food and even some clothing that remained from her son…He would not be needing it anymore, she had said, and it was a small consolation to her that someone would use those things - and maybe spare a thought for the deceased.
“Ah keep rememberin' tat woman…” Lith’jin said quietly. “Poor her…”
Morgg patted her shoulder, then, when she shot him another angry glance, pretended to be only arranging the straps of her backpack.
“Life’s like that”, he said and Lith’jin though she saw a faint trace of sadness in his eyes. “Well, let us increase the pace a little or we’ll be sleeping on the road!” he added briskly.
He started forwards and she trotted after him, coughing from the dust raised by their boots.
Monday, 9 February 2009
Road to Orgrimmar (1)
Asking for permission from the tribe elder to join Morgg on his way to Orgrimmar wasn’t exactly what Lith’jin had in mind as she told him to keep quiet about their plans, while she was doing the preparations.
Her parents were fishermen and rowing in their little boat – really their own wealth – all day long. They considered her oh-so-lucky to have been apprenticed to a Witch Doctor that on the rare occasions they gathered together in their hut, they could speak about nothing else. Lith’jin had two brothers and a sister as well, none as fortunate as her, the way they saw things. Well, let them fetch all day long for Master Miao’zan – she would have been happier at sea, for sure.
Sneaking around with the orc the previous day had been fun, in an exhilarating sort of way. And dangerous, true. Centaurs were not renowned for their kindness, and the remnants of her own tribe that inhabited the Echo Isles were long under with the vile magic they practiced. One had to step cautiously when dealing with the spirits. Very cautiously.
By morning, she was pumped full with adrenaline and her mind set. She would use the opportunity to get away from Master Miao’zan and his chores. This Morgg seemed trustworthy enough to hope he would safely take her to Orgrimmar. The thought of actually seeing Orgrimmar made her anxious and queasy at the same time.
With a fluttering sensation in the pit of her belly she packed up as fast as she could. Not much: some food and spare clean clothes – she added her white and purple apprentice robes almost as an afterthought.
Maybe they would prove in handy – surely there had to be greater Witch Doctors than Master Miao’zan in Orgrimmar and one of them might be willing to take her in as apprentice. She did like the things he had thought her about communing with the spirits and how to receive advice and strength for them. Or to avoid their anger – spirits were capricious at best. What she did not like was digging in the sand for crawlers, up to her elbows in mucus and other such fluids.
With a little luck there would be none of that anymore, Lith’jin thought hopefully as she stalked towards the edge of the village, where Morgg was supposed to be waiting her. As a supplementary measure of protection she stopped just long enough to cut a long branch from one of the trees bordering Sen’jin. Using her belt knife she fashioned it quickly into a staff. The orc might be sufficient protection, but she had proved to him the previous night that troll women knew how to fight as well. And with a little help from the spirits…
Lith’jin was humming as she saw Morgg sitting on a boulder of stone, a bulging bag by his side. Apparently the news of his deeds had been handsomely rewarded by Master Gandrig.
Hoping that no one had seen her so far, she ran to him.
“Ah be ready, mon! Come on – we do not be havin’ all day!”
Morgg eyed her askance as she prodded him on. “You did ask for permission, didn’t you?”
“Ya, sure mon…Sure ah did…did ask ‘em all…just be goin’ now…”
It was well before noon when they started north, towards Orgrimmar.
***
From what Lar Prowltusk had told them, Orgrimmar lay a good three days away, unless they grew wings; Lith’jin wondered why the older orc had seemed so amused at that.
She was used to walking and despite his armor and heavy bag, Morgg didn’t fell back either once they were set on the road.
The further they went from the sea though, a dry heat started to make itself felt; here and there a hot wind stirred small angry vortexes of dust making them cough until their eyes filled with tears.
By nightfall, they had managed to reach Razor Hill, topping a sudden rise in the barren fields around. The settlement was larger than Sen’jin Village – not enough to make Lith’jin’s jaw drop in awe but close. There was a certain hustle and bustle, with travelers coming in from south as they had and others from the north: a rag tag of fresh conscripts, soldiers from Orgrimmar, merchants selling everything Lith’jin could have imagined and spreading fresh news of what was going on…
No one paid too much attention to the two: a young orc warrior and an even younger troll woman trotting by his side, eyes as big as saucers. They spent their night at the inn – she had never seen one before. A huge (so it seemed to her) room, with a rounded roof and an impressive fire built right in the middle, directly on the floorstones. Tables stood lined across two walls and beds along the other two: mattresses and blankets set on the ground, one near the other. There wasn’t much privacy, but life was much the same as in Sen’jin and she slept soundly, after a good meal of roast beef and some boiled vegetables.
The next day though, after paying the dues for the night, it became obvious their meager amount of money won’t last for too long. It was nice to believe someone would take care of them and provide shelter and nourishment when they arrived in Orgrimmar, but most likely they would have to manage themselves. They journeyed on a little dispirited, leaving Razor Hill behind and heading into a canyon so tall that the walls seemed to come down crushing on the travelers. The sky and the burning sun remained only memories somewhere above their heads –not so the whirlwinds of dust which made Lith’jin tie a cloth over her face to stop from coughing.
Morgg proved once more to be a pleasant companion. He even offered to carry her bundle of clothes, should she feel too tired. Not that she intended to let him do it, but it was nice of him to offer.
Right after they finally exited the canyon, a farm appeared on the right side of the road.
“Mah be dey be havin’ somethin’ to eat for us?” Lith’jin suggested. Her stomach rumbled loudly, earning a vigorous nod from Morgg.
“We should go and see”, he agreed. Shifting the bundles on the shoulders, they approached the still distant farm, hoping for a warm dinner and a place to sleep in.
Her parents were fishermen and rowing in their little boat – really their own wealth – all day long. They considered her oh-so-lucky to have been apprenticed to a Witch Doctor that on the rare occasions they gathered together in their hut, they could speak about nothing else. Lith’jin had two brothers and a sister as well, none as fortunate as her, the way they saw things. Well, let them fetch all day long for Master Miao’zan – she would have been happier at sea, for sure.
Sneaking around with the orc the previous day had been fun, in an exhilarating sort of way. And dangerous, true. Centaurs were not renowned for their kindness, and the remnants of her own tribe that inhabited the Echo Isles were long under with the vile magic they practiced. One had to step cautiously when dealing with the spirits. Very cautiously.
By morning, she was pumped full with adrenaline and her mind set. She would use the opportunity to get away from Master Miao’zan and his chores. This Morgg seemed trustworthy enough to hope he would safely take her to Orgrimmar. The thought of actually seeing Orgrimmar made her anxious and queasy at the same time.
With a fluttering sensation in the pit of her belly she packed up as fast as she could. Not much: some food and spare clean clothes – she added her white and purple apprentice robes almost as an afterthought.
Maybe they would prove in handy – surely there had to be greater Witch Doctors than Master Miao’zan in Orgrimmar and one of them might be willing to take her in as apprentice. She did like the things he had thought her about communing with the spirits and how to receive advice and strength for them. Or to avoid their anger – spirits were capricious at best. What she did not like was digging in the sand for crawlers, up to her elbows in mucus and other such fluids.
With a little luck there would be none of that anymore, Lith’jin thought hopefully as she stalked towards the edge of the village, where Morgg was supposed to be waiting her. As a supplementary measure of protection she stopped just long enough to cut a long branch from one of the trees bordering Sen’jin. Using her belt knife she fashioned it quickly into a staff. The orc might be sufficient protection, but she had proved to him the previous night that troll women knew how to fight as well. And with a little help from the spirits…
Lith’jin was humming as she saw Morgg sitting on a boulder of stone, a bulging bag by his side. Apparently the news of his deeds had been handsomely rewarded by Master Gandrig.
Hoping that no one had seen her so far, she ran to him.
“Ah be ready, mon! Come on – we do not be havin’ all day!”
Morgg eyed her askance as she prodded him on. “You did ask for permission, didn’t you?”
“Ya, sure mon…Sure ah did…did ask ‘em all…just be goin’ now…”
It was well before noon when they started north, towards Orgrimmar.
***
From what Lar Prowltusk had told them, Orgrimmar lay a good three days away, unless they grew wings; Lith’jin wondered why the older orc had seemed so amused at that.
She was used to walking and despite his armor and heavy bag, Morgg didn’t fell back either once they were set on the road.
The further they went from the sea though, a dry heat started to make itself felt; here and there a hot wind stirred small angry vortexes of dust making them cough until their eyes filled with tears.
By nightfall, they had managed to reach Razor Hill, topping a sudden rise in the barren fields around. The settlement was larger than Sen’jin Village – not enough to make Lith’jin’s jaw drop in awe but close. There was a certain hustle and bustle, with travelers coming in from south as they had and others from the north: a rag tag of fresh conscripts, soldiers from Orgrimmar, merchants selling everything Lith’jin could have imagined and spreading fresh news of what was going on…
No one paid too much attention to the two: a young orc warrior and an even younger troll woman trotting by his side, eyes as big as saucers. They spent their night at the inn – she had never seen one before. A huge (so it seemed to her) room, with a rounded roof and an impressive fire built right in the middle, directly on the floorstones. Tables stood lined across two walls and beds along the other two: mattresses and blankets set on the ground, one near the other. There wasn’t much privacy, but life was much the same as in Sen’jin and she slept soundly, after a good meal of roast beef and some boiled vegetables.
The next day though, after paying the dues for the night, it became obvious their meager amount of money won’t last for too long. It was nice to believe someone would take care of them and provide shelter and nourishment when they arrived in Orgrimmar, but most likely they would have to manage themselves. They journeyed on a little dispirited, leaving Razor Hill behind and heading into a canyon so tall that the walls seemed to come down crushing on the travelers. The sky and the burning sun remained only memories somewhere above their heads –not so the whirlwinds of dust which made Lith’jin tie a cloth over her face to stop from coughing.
Morgg proved once more to be a pleasant companion. He even offered to carry her bundle of clothes, should she feel too tired. Not that she intended to let him do it, but it was nice of him to offer.
Right after they finally exited the canyon, a farm appeared on the right side of the road.
“Mah be dey be havin’ somethin’ to eat for us?” Lith’jin suggested. Her stomach rumbled loudly, earning a vigorous nod from Morgg.
“We should go and see”, he agreed. Shifting the bundles on the shoulders, they approached the still distant farm, hoping for a warm dinner and a place to sleep in.
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