It had been a long day and Gerrett was badly in need of a drink. He had turned in the slimy green head of the murloc chief for a small amount of silver, and face. But his pride still stung with the events of earlier that day.

"Bah, rescued… by a troll no less!" He muttered under his breath as he stalked towards the Stonefire Tavern. After he had finished his business in Eastvale he decided to head for home instead of pressing east into Redridge. The entire trip back to Ironforge on the Deep Run Tram, a massive underground rail line that served to connect Stormwind and Ironforge, his shoulders to stooped lower and lower from the weight of defeat and the weight of not truly earned silver in his pockets. Not even the staggering architecture that whizzed by at incredible speeds could take his mind off of that troll and her long red mane. He walked into the tavern and slid onto the neared bar stool and rested his hammer against the counter and ordered a stoat. The dark, frothy drink splashed into a simple metal stein which was unceremoniously deposited in front of him by an older dwarf with an impressive flaming red beard. He eyed that beard as he pulled his drink towards himself,

"I hope there's no hairs in here!" he joked towards the dwarf as he raised his stein, a forced smile on his lips. Often he found that the best medicine for a sore heart was an attempt at laughter. The barkeep laughed his rolling laughter, his girth bouncing,

"Now lad, no need to be jealous!" He retorted with his usual mirth. Innkeeper Firebrew was known for two things, well, maybe 3. One was his large selection of the finest dwarven alcohol on this side of Ironforge, the other was for his love of jokes and easygoing spirit. His laughter could turn any frown into a smile even on the coldest, dreariest day that Dun Morogh could offer, and it offered plenty. The third thing, well… at this moment she was over behind the counter, writing in a book. But when the Tavern was full of dwarves yearning for a drink she would be out showing off her ample bosom to any young man with wondering eyes.

The keep offered Gerrett a sidelong glance, "Sooooo…. is there any reason yer here early? I mean, the way you were talking last night I figured you'd be gone at least a week. Heading towards Redridge wasn't ye?"

Gerrett choked on his drink a little, reddening, "Yeah" He took a moment to regain his composure, "little change of plans I think".

Firebrew chuckled, "What, ye meet a nice lass?"

This comment caused Gerrett to choke a bit more, "Wha? Noo, noo, nothing like that."

Firebrew refilled Gerretts stein, "Wouldn't be the first time a young lad changed his plans fer a bit o' tail. Fine, keep yer secrets. For now. The brew will get ye talking soon enough."

Gerrett raised an eyebrow, weighing the truth in the innkeepers words. Usually when he was here the tavern it was busy and there was no time for little more than exchange of pleasantries with the staff "I was thinking about going south… you know, instead of east."

Firebrew picks up a tankard and begins wiping it nonchalantly, "oh? Blackrock? Unforgiving wasteland, unforgiving dwarves. Wouldn't go without a friend or two to watch yer back."

Garrett stares into the dull, smudged reflection in his metal stein, "I was thinking more south."

The keep tilts his head, curiosity piqued "Going back through Stormwind then? Maybe head to Duskwood? Heard there's a bit of undead nonsense and whatnot with Kharazan so close."

Gerrett turns his cup reflexively, examining the other side, "more….south"

Firebrew frowns, "More south? Not many people go more south. Gets you awfully close to troll territory and Stormwind doesn't patrol that far. Ye know, that's near where the orcs first came through the dark portal! Unforgiving lands there. Are ye sure that's what ye want to do? "

Gerrett sits up strait, a plan forming in his mind, "Yes, I think I might."