2: The Meeting in Orgrimmar
When Sporticus arrived in Orgrimmar he realized there was much he had to do that day, his first on Bladefistrealm. He had to go talk to the honor armor vendor and buy those new shoulder pauldrons he had been looking for, and he also had to make his way to the auction house and see if there were any cheap mana potions he could pick up. He had used the last few before he left home, and he knew he would need some if here were going to try to find a dungeon raid here in this place.
"Well, I've got a lot to do today and if you don't mind I'll be off about my business," Sport said to Biggmean, his green travelling companion.
The orc simply grunted in acknowledgement and headed towards the bank in the center of town. There were always quite a few people in the bank, and there was never a shortage of people crowding the mailbox near the entrance to the bank. It was strange how these always served as meeting points for people no matter where you went. In the Undercity, Thunder Bluff or Silvermoon they were all the same. The number of people were never as great as they were here in Org, but that was simply due to this city's place as the central hub of the Horde.
With that Sport headed into the auction house to see what "deal of the day" he could find. It took him a while to shove his way past all the people in the building to find a spot where he could peruse the items for sale. As he tried to politely excuse himself past one of the giant tauren taking up space in the auction house, he felt his foot come down on something soft and squishy.
"Ow! Watch where the hell you're going, moron!" the undead barked at him. From its long robes and staff in his hand, he figured it was either a priest or a warlock. Another glance told Sport that this undead was missing an imp pet if it were a warlock, so he figured it was a priest.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I was trying to make my way to the front and I accidentally stepped on your foot! I am so sorry!" Sport pleaded with the priest.
"Yeah, well if you were smarter you wouldn't have done something so stupid. But I don't have time to deal with noobs, so you just better watch yourself boy," the undead replied. The last word was said with such force that Sport could see the laden hatred in this undead's eyes. It flashed about as light dances on the surface of the water at noontime- it was a dreadful sight to behold. It terribly unnerved Sport and he found himself quickly looking at some very interesting rock on the ground, avoiding eye contact of any kind with this anger-filled undead. With great gesture to a pair of orcs standing nearby, the priest left the auction house.
With the awkward moment behind him, Sport decided it would be best to make his way to the auctioneer to get his mind off of things. The scene that had just been caused gave him ample room to walk right up to the front of the auction house- that was one good thing that came from this, Sport thought.
As was his custom, he took a moment to look at all the high end weapons and armor that were for sale here in the auction house. Epics, they were called, and they always seemed to carry a large amount of clout with them. If you had epics, you were someone. Well Sport didn't have epics, but he figured that didn't hold him back from being a great paladin. What he lacked in gear he made up for in skill, and he knew the gear would come in time- provided he was able to find his way into a dungeon raid. It was only a matter of time, he thought.
Looking through these epic items he saw several things he wanted. There was a plate belt that would be very useful to him as a healer. Next, he saw a shield that was far superior to the one he was carrying around now. The ugly yellow triangle that hung on his back sure didn't look like a shield, but it was the best he could find under such limited opportunities back home. He knew how to make do, and certainly that was the best this shield would ever accomplish for him. Finally, he came upon a very powerful breastplate that would greatly improve his healing ability and longevity in combat. He checked the current price.
Three thousand gold? Sport looked into his backpack and got a quick estimation of the amount of money he had- barely two hundred gold. Not nearly enough. He momentarily toyed with the idea of going to the bank and asking for a loan that he could repay later, perhaps over the course of a year. He smiled as he thought of some old orc pouring over a ledger, seeing the various debtors to the Orgrimmar bank, and adding his name to the end with the amount next to it. If only it were that kind of bank, he thought. The bank at Org did nothing of the sort, it was simply a place for people to conveniently store their items when they didn't want to carry them around.
Coming back to his senses, he then asked the auctioneer if there were any mana potions for sale. The auctioneer silently showed him the ones available. He skipped over the smaller potions and went to the bigger, more effective ones. He had found two some generous person had put up for sale at one gold each, and he promptly purchased them both. He carefully, this time, made his way out of the auction house and found the nearest mailbox. Rushing to it, he found in there, addressed to him, the two mana potions he had just purchased. He smiled to himself, put them in his bag and looked around for the horde Officer's Barracks. These housed the honor armor vendor that he would need to visit in order to purchase the new pauldrons he wanted.
But for whatever reason, he could not find the Officer's Barracks. He thought he knew where it was, since there was only one in Org, but he must have gotten confused and disoriented somewhere along the way. He stopped by a guard and asked him where his missing Officer's Barracks was. The guard handed him a small map with the location of the Barracks marked with a red flag on it. Sport thanked the guard and asked him what the best way to get there. The guard said nothing and simply turned his head to look around the city, as if silently watching for any sign of Alliance intruder. Figuring he was barking up the wrong tree, he set out to find the Barracks on his own.
After an hour of fruitless twists and turns down endless back alleys and dead end roads, Sport had nearly despaired of ever finding the Officer's Barracks and his shiny new shoulder plates. He knew it was here somewhere, but he simply could not find his way to the darned place. He was fairly despondent (as he was prone to be when things didn't turn out like he wanted) and he drudgingly walked back down the main road to the heart of Org. He found his feet growing heavier with each passing step, due more to emotional fatigue than physical, so he found his way to the edge of the road and plopped down on his back. He let out a large sigh and closed his eyes, trying to remain calm. He was very much alone in this new world, and he was trying to not let it get to him.
"Well, what have we got here," came a deep, gentle voice from the road. Sport opened his eyes to observe a very large tauren looking down upon him. He was only a few feet away, but Sport could tell right away that this tauren was a shaman. The gentleness of his voice coupled the way the wind seemed to gracefully carry his words indicated his connection with the elements. There was no mistake about that. The tauren continued, "You seem rather down on your luck, lying on the side of the road all alone like that."
Sport smiled at the correct assessment of his situation- "Yeah, I'm not doing so well right now. I just arrived here from Utherrealm and I'm trying to find my way around in this new world. It's been quite the ordeal, and I think I've already made more enemies than friends."
The tauren looked at him thoughtfully and moved in closer to him. He slowly guided his large bulk to the ground and sat down to chat with the paladin. "Well," the shaman started, "I don't know whether or not I can help you with making new friends, but I am sure I can help you find your way around here in Org. What are you looking for?"
Sport handed the tauren his map and explained that he was looking for the Officer's Barracks, and was about to tell him what he was going to purchase there when the tauren began again.
"Those Barracks… I don't know what the founders of Org were thinking when they put them way up there on that side of town. Sure you can see them from the entranceway, but it sure is a convoluted path to get there. You're here, by the leatherworking hut," here he pointed to the map, "and you simply have to walk this path," he pointed to the map again, "around by Warchief Thrall's quarters and then you're there in a jiffy. It can be a bit confusing and I'm not doing anything for the next little while, so I'll show you the way." The tauren put out his large hand on the shoulder of the much smaller paladin in greeting. "I'm Straggler, by the way."
Sport shook his head in disbelief at the tauren. "You're a straggler? From what?"
"No, not a straggler," the shaman sighed, "My name is Straggler. It comes from the time, way back when I was a boy…" here he trailed off and paused, lost in his own world. After a moment in thought, his eyebrows raised and he resumed, "Tell you what- everyone in my guild just calls me Hautz, so why don't you just go ahead and call me that."
"Hautz. OK, I think I can do that. Very nice to meet you Hautz, my name is Sporticus," he replied, and with that he stuck out his own right hand in his usual greeting.
The shaman grasped the outstretched hand with both mammoth hands of his own and smiled. "A true pleasure to meet you," he said.
As the two of them walked through Orgrimmar, Sporticus explained to Hautz of how he came to Bladefistrealm from Utherrealm. He told him of his past on "Uther" and the wonderful things he had accomplished there. He spoke of his various fights against the monsters of the dungeons in Outland and his grueling process of obtaining the key for entrance to the dungeon raid called "Karazhan." He told him of his frustration with the constant influx and outflow of people through his former guild, The Bandits on Uther, and his eventual choice to leave his home in search for a better place elsewhere. His brother, sadly, had stayed behind and he was off on his own for the first time in his life.
Sport finally got around to talking about his trip to "Bladefist" and the expensive cost of making such a monumental journey. He spoke of his unusual first meeting with the orc called Biggmean and the battle they had fought and won against the Alliance. Hautz smiled at this part of the story but said nothing, simply nodding and offering the occasional grunt to indicate he was still listening. In time they reached the Officer's Barracks, and Sport was elated beyond words.
"Sweet! I can finally buy those epic shoulders I have been saving up so long for. I can really use the spell power on them- they are way better than these garbage ones I have on now. Heh, I don't even remember where I got these from," he said joyfully.
"Well I am glad I could help you out," Hautz replied, "and I was most entertained by your numerous stories that you told along the way."
Sport smiled. He liked talking and his more than willing listener had given him the opportunity to share all the things that were on his mind. It was good to talk about them with someone, even if he didn't know them very well. He merely offered a simple "Thanks" in response.
As Sporticus headed into the barracks, Hautz turned to leave. He had a meeting to attend and he didn't want to be late. However, he had a glimmer of a thought about this paladin, so he called after him. Hearing his name, Sport stopped in his tracks and turned around to face the shaman who beckoned him.
"Say there Sporticus, I was thinking. Now I know you're new to Bladefist and still trying to find your way around, but I get the idea that you might be interested in joining my guild." The tauren pointed at Sport, "The, uh, bland color on your tabard indicates that you currently have no affiliation."
Having finally solved the mystery of his tabard (in fact, it was solved for him) Sport figured it would be good to find a group of people to hang out with, even just to make a few new friends. He was looking for a raiding guild though, so he asked Hautz what his guild was all about.
"Well, we are trying to raid in the dungeons that require the most people, but we still are a few men short. Right now we are still looking for people, and the quality of gear is a non-issue at this point. You'd probably fit right in," Hautz explained.
That was music to Sport's ears. He had wanted a serious raiding guild since he first got a taste of raiding back on Uther, and it seems that the perfect opportunity had fallen right into his lap. He thanked Hautz and told him that he would be very much interested in his guild.
Hautz grinned in approval and started, "We have a guild meeting in that green hut over there in about five minutes if you can make it. I'm sure our guild leader and some of the officers would like to talk to you before we invite you in to join us. But as far as I am concerned, I think you'll be a good fit for us." And with that, he crossed his arm over his chest, placing his fist on his shoulder and said, "Lok'tar ogar! I hope to see you there."
Sport mimicked his gesture and replied, "Lok'tar Hautz! I will be there." And with that he ran off into the barracks, glad he would not only be obtaining his new honor pauldrons but also that he would have the opportunity to show them off later at a guild meeting.
The sight of someone so happy made Hautz chuckle, and he turned to go to the meeting of his comrades. His long blue robe trailed behind him as he made his way from the Officer's Barracks to the green hut he had pointed out to the paladin. He could tell by the way the wind was blowing through Orgrimmar today that rain would follow by nightfall. He was thankful, as today had been an especially hot one and the rain was much needed.
An unusual momentary gust in the wind told him he was not alone. A stealthed rogue snuck up by his side and whispered something into his ear. The female troll's voice seemed giddier than usual and was asking him about the paladin he had just conversed with.
"I found him on the side of the road, actually. Just lying there all alone- it was kinda weird," Hautz whispered back to his hidden companion. "Apart from how odd he acts at times, he seems like a decent guy and I think he might be a good find. You never know with those realm transfers- sometimes they are more trouble than they're worth. Still, I get the feeling that he's just what we've been looking for, and maybe more."