Chapter 1: Year 29

A single explosion of crimson above the Salty Sailor garnered warm cheers and applause from the dozen or so dockhands gathered on the tiny balcony opening from the bar's second floor. The balcony would not have been so crowded if not for the towering, fat figure in the midst of the revelers. Some sat on chairs or tables, others leaned on the taffrail of the old ship's prow which the terrace was made out of.

"Wha'd ya wish for there kid?" asked a sailor by the name of Daelin.

Bee wasn't lying too much when he said "We want to meet someone famous." He referred to himself with the plural pronoun only when he was drunk.

"Cheers to that!"

Bee regarded the balcony, he always thought it was a nice touch. Couldn't have been easy to haul the thing up from the dock almost five stories below them, or attach it to the side of the Inn, however ramshackle the original construction may have been. The prow was unique and it gave the bar the x-factor that made the Salty Sailor the essential, nautically-themed tavern of Booty Bay. It also gave the bar owner an excuse to hike the fee that Bee's friends, here gathered, must've had to pay to reserve these tables on such a busy night; tables that would normally be for the likes of Baron Revilgaz and his cartel buddies. Goblin-towns were often run by shady, intricate networks of power but one thing Bee always liked about goblins was their honesty when it concerned coin. If he wanted to have a party on this balcony to smoke rare 'imports,' light up the night sky over the cape with his firework and forget his troubles until the next day, then Skindle would let him so long as he was paid up front. That, combined with the single firework that they had just fired off, not to mention the torrent of booze they had been ordering all night, would make this party pretty expensive considering Bee's present company of deck-swabbies, fishmongers and city guards coming off of their day shift in the blistering heat.

That being said, not one of them had anything better to do with their money or their Saturday night than the weekly tradition of drinking, which of course led to brawling, which inevitably led to gambling. The gambling would of course beget fighting and the harmonious cycle continued until the not-so gentle giant would part ways with his drunk companions and stumble his way to the boarding house. Then, of course he would stumble right past it for fear of waking his landlady and swing down into the massive fishing net that Jang, the fisherman's apprentice had stretched between two of the huge poles that kept the city above the water. From here, he could easily reach the trapdoor to the interior of the house, but there was no need to stomp around in the goblin-sized building unless Bee felt the urge to empty the cupboards of a few day's worth of goblin fare for his dinner. Such was the life of longshoremen who lived in a peaceful harbor so far from Azeroth's troubles. Sure, the dragon had complicated things a year prior but the group's collective drunken memory agreed that the place had not looked much better in the days before the upheaval.

"That slackjawed rat Sparks told me it'd have three colors!" yelled Jang as she pointed at the fading streaks of red in the sky. For lack of tables, she was sitting on the low-sloping roof of the tavern with a couple of other goblins; Bee had been warned not to try that many years ago when he was still growing. The stern innkeeper Skindle almost had a heart attack when the adolescent ogre first attempted to step on the flimsy driftwood planks of the tavern's roof.

"We thought you goblins knew where to get the goods, you've been hornswaggled," Bee's right head turned to Jang as he spoke while the single pupil of the left gazed at the remnants of his birthday present glowing in the night sky.

"Yeah well," Jang hopped off the roof and looked up at Bee for only a second, "I thought you ogres didn't know so many words," She didn't bother craning her neck for too long and walked back inside with an empty tankard which was in need of another fill.

"Either way sonny, I hope you made a good wish," mused Kelsey, probably the oldest member of the group, "because Sparks also said his stock was running low."

"Which must mean prices are high, surprise surprise," Bee kept his cyclopean left fixed on the sky, while lifting a pony-keg of a mug to its lips. Only smoke remained and it was scattering fast among the temperate winds flowing in from the gulf.

"Well well well, such deep understanding of high-level economics. One wonders what you're doing among these idiots," Kelsey smiled and Bee thought he caught a certain twinkle in the cook's eyes. But before he could answer, both of his heads were set upon by familiar, tiny hands, one covering the eyes of his right, the other yanking at the horn on his left.

"You thought we'd miss this party?" Johl and Jask had jumped off the roof onto Bee's shoulders and were now screaming directly into his ear, "Hands up land-lubber!"

"Look who's managed to get some shore-leave! Now the party can really start!" Geoff, another human dockhand walked to the window and poked his head in, "Jang, another two!" before looking at his own mug and yelling again, "Three! Four! Blast it let's take 'em for all they've got! It's our big boy's birthday after all," he looked around intently as his voice rose in a crescendo to lead the liquored-up bunch in song.

Bee closed all three of his eyes and sang along in a masterful acapella of his two voices. Jang had once mentioned that he had an almost suave basso in both of them which made him sound distinguished, although she had since changed her recollection and seemed almost convinced that the descriptor she used was 'less-dumb'. Ogres didn't often receive compliments on anything, Bee loved singing ever since. He drowned one of his voices with the stinking grog he had ordered and felt almost completely happy.

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"I wasn't joking earlier. When I said you don't belong with a bunch of mugs like these. I know you know I wasn't joking,"

"Where do we belong then?" He a habit of speaking with his left when he was being insincere, "Is it time for us to study arcana instead of laying keel? Let's just check the manifests and see when the next boat arrives from Dalaran."

"Boy you know if you want to hide from me you better conjure up something better than sarcasm to hide behind. Don't tell me you plan on living the simple life just because of some perceived bullshit honor that you find in worki…"

"Do we look like we were brought up around orcs?"

"Actually, you do."

Bee sighed with both heads in unison. Kelsey was right about one thing, he couldn't hide much from the old cook. Funny world to live in, where this human, shady at best and criminal at worst, may have been the closest thing he had to a father. "You know we weren't, we've you to thank for that."

"I know you was until I scooped your little ass off that dying planet."

"Please, don't let us forget it," Bee muttered while Kelsey rambled on with the same disappointed father speech that myriad sons have had to listen to innumerable times since the dawn of civilization.

"...and yet here you are, nigh on a quarter-century later with the same job you've had since you were as tall as me. A job which, I might add, looks especially silly when you think about how simple incantations like the ones I know you've practiced, would not only make your job easier, they could get rid of your need for a job."

"And what would we do then?" Bee was still talking with his left, his right still focused on the noisy bar a few stories above, "it's natural to want more out of life but you can't tell us you're not happy."

"Oh I am," Kelsey groaned as he lay back and stared at the two moons positioned ever-so-close in the night sky, "this place is paradise...for the likes of me."

We are happy here, Bee mused. He often told himself that this collection of privateers, bootleggers and criminals of all ranks represented the one place in Azeroth that made sense to him.

Not that we've been anywhere else. Damn him! Right again! Despite his own thoughts turning against him, Bee continued to argue.

"Oh but it clearly can't be paradise for us. And we suppose we owe it to ourselves to seek higher purpose?" Bee rarely spoke this much with his left all at once, he preferred to keep at least one mind off of this conversation. It was almost morning now, both of his heads were pounding from the volume of booze he had imbibed.

His right looked at the balcony again. A couple of ogres like himself may have been involved, wherever Goblins went, their first choice for muscle were never far behind. Bee was a rare exception to the rule, the goblins had not hired him for his brawn; but then, they did not hire him for his brain either, although he had two of them. As rare as two-headed ogres were, Bee defied all odds by being a completely mediocre individual at first glance. He was a caulker by trade and used his title as a barely-skilled worker to scrape by in the port-city.

Kelsey never let a month go by without encouraging him to quit his job and get serious about becoming a magician. Bee was a good caster, exceptional, even, for his age. Despite his ability, he had a different excuse for not getting serious about it every month. The excuses ranged from emotional to sarcastic:

Magic is dangerous, it attracts trouble.

Magic is useless, I have a good life and I want for nothing.

I've got two heads and you're pigeonholing me, that's almost racist.

There is honor in honest, hard work and the sweat of my brow, magic undermines that.

Magic is frivolous.

Magic is addictive.

Magic led to the death of my family, I want nothing to do with it.

Despite all of this posturing and feigned sincerity, Bee had a hard time resisting the use of his skills, any young runt like himself would. Magic could alter a dice-roll or cook a steak. Magic was convenient and almost always worth the effort. His friends knew that he could cast, the secret Bee had always tried to keep was the extent to which he could cast. This was one secret he could never keep from his adopted father. This was why Kelsey constantly scolded him, because Kelsey watched him grow up, oozing raw talent and hiding it for no good reason. Hiding it from the world and from himself.

"Oh no kiddo," Kelsey had closed his eyes almost as if he were ready to sleep right there with his feet hanging off the dock.

Wouldn't be the first time, thought Bee.

"You don't owe yourself anything other than what makes you happy. For example, this town does make me happy. I'll never want for entertainment, I'll never be cold and if I'm chasing after some bullshit honor then the next Bloodsail raid is never too far away. I don't really want a sense of purpose or a higher calling but I can pretend to contemplate it looking at the sun set over the water. I've got everything I could want. Son, but I see something missing when you smile."

"Maybe there is, how would we know…"

"I think you do know but finding out is what you owe to yourself."

"So give up everything we have and go off to blindly seek purpose? Doesn't seem like a deal our little green friends would entertain. And we trust their business sense."

"Give up everything? You mean your promising career as a drunk longshoreman?"

"There is some good that comes of what we do, no good comes of magic. We'll only attract people more powerful than ourselves," Another thing Bee had often told himself was that he hated magic based on his past. That he didn't want any trouble to come of it when it was clear that it was his own ego getting in the way of his development. Either way, despite the lies he told himself and the rest of the world, he continued to advance throughout his childhood, into adolescence and beyond; his talent for magic akin to a rabid dog whose sadistic master let the leash slip from his hands, wondering whether it was truly intentional or not, pretending every step of the way.

Kelsey knew all this of course, but he also knew that the towering figure was still no more than a child. His own father had often said, 'Age is just numbers, especially when you're stupid!' Looking back, Kelsey could admit to himself that this was at times when he needed a good whooping, for he had been irresponsible all throughout his life.

Bee was the same.

All kids were the same.

Except that nobody in the city could give Bee the good whooping that he needed, not even the other ogres. The kid was in the prime of his youth and his hypocritical simultaneous knowledge and contempt of magic meant that he had to learn how to fight if he wanted to make sure he was never in a position where his back was to the wall and he would have to risk revealing the extent of his skills. That and there was his love for gambling and pit-fighting.

"Some good can come of magic," smiled Kelsey as he waved his empty tankard suggestively, Bee regarded it, blinked his great left eye and it refilled with grog.

"There's a boy!" Smiled Kelsey, he gulped down some of it and winced. Try as he might, Bee couldn't compete with orc grog.

"Besides, what you owe to yourself was never going to be my selling point here kid."

"We've saved you from enough deaths, and we owe no one else."

No sooner had he said it when the tavern door slammed open and a rising storm of laughter rose up from the bar three stories above their heads as a group of patrons left, their incoherent shanties overpowered only by the ominous creaking of the entire wooden platform. With a grin, Kelsey pointed up.

"You owe it to every one of your mates dummy. They have families to feed, they have responsibility and duty. If any of them could do what you do…but we can't. But you can. Give them something to cheer for besides barfights. Let us see you succeed and be inspired by the knowledge that one of our own made it up there."

"You make some good points old man."

"Course I do boy I'm your daddy."

"We've wanted to leave for a few years now."

"Yeah right."

"It's true."

"What're you waiting for, a sign?"

"More or less, We've been waiting for some news."

"Go make the news."

"Maybe we will."

"Don't worry I won't bother you about it too much more. Like I said, this place is paradise for me so, I'm happy. But if you stick around much longer I'll be forced to think you've fallen in love with Jang. Then I gotta start talking to her father about a dowry…"

"Funny. Let's not spill those beans quite yet."