Chapter 15 - Arriving on Kalimdor
The voyage did not take them very long. Only a few days at sea with mostly smooth sailing, made all the easier thanks to the navigation charts that Lady Jaina had provided them with. Apparently, she was the daughter of a big time seaman from the Alliance, though Dalrus couldn't really recall his name. By their third day, Dalrus was lazily hanging over the railing, tossing his dagger up and down as his brother was puking over the edge right next to him. "That's it, bro. Better out than in." He said, sighing loudly from boredom and pocketing his dagger. "But you'd think putting up with the stench of the undead would make you immune to any sort of nausea."
"This... Is... Different..." Felrus managed to blurt out, his arms gripping at the railings as his legs threatened to give out under him. "All this... Rocking... Back and forth... The ground keeps... Moving... Under my... F... Feet... URRRP!" Once more that belching noise, and Dalrus heard a fresh load pour down at the sea below them. "Don't worry, Fel. We'll be getting there real soon. I think. I hope. Maybe?"
Felrus was just about to smack his brother across his smug little face when suddenly that divine scream came from above: "LAND HO!"
The two brothers stood up and scanned the horizon. And surely enough... There it was. The new continent to the far west. Kalimdor.
Felrus' first thoughts as he peered at the sandy shores, then towards the vast wastelands that covered the southern regions were: 'So this is it... This is where we will fight... For our destiny. Against the Burning Legion.' Dalrus' first impression of the place was: 'Bloody hell, why is everything so orange?'
"Furl sails! Man the oars! We make for the coast!" The captain was screaming. On their first day on board, all on board had been debriefed about their travelling route. They were to land on the shores to the south, then move towards a garrison stationed at a place called the 'Stonetalon Mountains.' They were to report to a commander there awaiting for them and await further instructions. As they came closer to the shore, they could see there was already an Alliance encampment there. A tall keep stood watch over the sea and the desolate land behind it, with several watchtowers along the coast. Barracks could also be seen, with armored soldiers marching back and forth. But that wasn't all. People... Commonfolk were also there. They had built houses, began plantations, and went on about their daily lives. Dalrus assumed those were refugees from Lordaeron.
"Poor people... They lost their homes, and had to start a new life in this strange land." Felrus said, also looking at them with a sad expression. Or maybe that was just the nausea.
"Jeez, who would want to live here? It's all so... Dusty. You can grow in fields like these?" Dalrus shook his head. "We saw woods to the north, didn't we? Plenty of green up there. Why not move to a more hospitable spot?"
"Good question... Let's be sure to ask once we- BLAAAARGH!" Dalrus rolled his eyes as Felrus bent over the rail once more. "Alright, I gotcha. Now try and hold some of your lunch in, we are almost there."
The sun was starting to set by the time they finally arrived on the shore. There was a regimen awaiting for them there. Several footmen, all clad in full plate armor and shields bearing the symbol of Lordaeron... And behind those, Dalrus assumed, had to be dwarves. The little guys were wearing long blue cloaks and were armed with rifles. And they all had long, stylish beards that covered their entire faces from the nose down, and most went as low as their waists. And standing right in front of them was who Dalrus assumed could be none other than Lady Jaina Proudmoore herself.
They weighed anchors about a kilometer off the shore and began to load the rowboats to approach the land. Felrus did not speak the whole time, apparently too focused in keeping his guts from spilling. And finally, they were there. Dalrus hopped off his boat, his supply sack thrown over his back. His boots sank into the soft sand, and he looked around, watching as the rest of the Gilneas Brigade left their boats as well and began to gather along the shoreline. Now that they were much closer, Dalrus realized that the mage who was responsible for that entire effort was actually a dashing, young woman. She couldn't even be in her thirties yet. Jaina Proudmoore sported long, silken blonde hair that was mostly hidden under a long blue cloak. She was holding a staff with what appeared to be an ice crystal at the tip, and wore a small, tight white shirt that left her midriff exposed, and matching pants from the waist down. Dalrus watched as she took in a deep breath and stepped forward, approaching the noble lord responsible for their regimen. "Lady Jaina!" The man said. "I am Lord Victor Bellsford. I come to you as the representative of our unit... The Gilneas Brigade!"
The young mage was clearly surprised by that. She took a moment to recompose herself before offering a polite smile and approaching the group. "Ah... So Gilneas answers our plea after all! It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord. I am Jaina Proudmoore... And I speak for the Human Expedition forces stationed here in Kalimdor. It brings me joy to know that Genn Greymane has finally decided to help us in this war."
Dalrus could almost imagine the commander looking to the side nervously as he said: "Ah... Yes. Of course. We could stand idle no longer. We are ready, and eager to do our part in this battle. We pledge our loyalty to you." As he said that, the man took a respectful bow, and, following suit, all the other soldiers took a knee as well. Dalrus would have probably remained there standing like an idiot if his brother hadn't grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt and tugged him down along with him.
Once again, the beautiful young mage was at a loss for words. "Oh! I, ah..." She cleared her throat, then straightened her back, trying to look more imposing. "Thank you, Lord Bellsford. Every single person who joins us is a welcome help. Your troops may rest in this garrison while we discuss where to proceed from here. Please, come with me."
As their commander left with Jaina to join the other generals and captains within the keep, Dalrus, Felrus and the rest of the soldiers began to gather their belongings and march towards the barracks and inns to have some well-earned rest after their boat trip. "So... This is Kalimdor." Dalrus said after a while as they crossed the large stone gates. That was some quick and efficient engineering right there, as there was no way they could have been stationed there for more than a few months at best. "Don't look too different from the Eastern Kingdoms, eh? You know, aside from all the dust."
Felrus lifted a brow at him. "Are you crazy? Look at all this! I had never seen a beach like this before... All I ever knew were the shores surrounding Gilneas." Felrus looked over his shoulder towards the setting sun on the horizon, and smiled. "And no giant wall anywhere."
That, Dalrus had to admit, was true. Never in his life had he been in a city that wasn't surrounded by sheer, steep cliffs or a gigantic stone wall. Nor had he ever been to such a... Raunchy place, either. He could see plenty of people going back and forth, mostly peasants, but a few soldiers as well. But that wasn't the richest part of it... It was the presence of dwarves, elves, griffons, machines, and he could have sworn he saw something that vaguely looked like a person made of water with deep blue eyes and golden bracers around its wrists following a woman around.
Another fun aspect was how different their speech was from what Dalrus was used to. The dwarves especially had a strong accent and loud, raspy voices. The elves sounded a lot more... Melodical, as if they were reciting a poem rather than engaging in idle chatter. And Dalrus' suspicions were soon confirmed; elves really did have eyebrows so long they were jutting out the sides of their faces and falling down around their heads. 'Bloody hell, why don't they shave that? Do they think it's pretty?' He pondered as he stared at them. His thoughts were interrupted when they arrived at their barracks. After the entrance, there were two main halls. One led to where the meals were prepared and served, the other led to the sleeping quarters. Several bunk beds were arranged one next to the other, and the soldiers were already throwing their belongings over them and making themselves comfortable. Dalrus and his brother found two that were unoccupied, with Dalrus taking the top bunker as his brother laid down on the lower one and let out a long sigh of relief. "So... We are finally here." He said, crossing his arms under his head and closing his eyes.
Dalrus simply stared at him from above. "You know... This was already bothering me when we were on the ship, but... Aren't you gonna take that thing off?" He pointed at Felrus' chest plate. "Seriously, just looking at it is making me sweat. How can you stand wearing half your own weight in armor this whole bloody time?"
His brother shrugged. "Eh, got used to it by now. When I was going around Lordaeron, we suffered a lot of surprise attacks. Better to be safe than sorry." Dalrus simply shook his head at that. He then hopped down to the floor and stretched his back. "Welp. I'm sure you need your rest, bro. So why don't you take a nap while I go take a look around the place?" As Dalrus made his way outside, he could hear his brother yelling: "Don't cause any trouble!"
Night was already settling on the encampment. Torches were lit all over the place, and it seemed as if the night life was just as busy as the day one... Especially around the inn. Music was coming out of the place, and Dalrus could see a trio of soldiers outside, their helmets tucked under their arms as they drank and laughed. Curious, the young rogue made his way inside, and almost took a step back as the loud music and stench of beer assaulted him like a physical blow. "Bloody hell." He said out loud, watching the chaos before him.
The loudest ones were the dwarves. They shook their ale mugs and laughed as they slapped their tables, sharing stories and making silly jokes. There were a couple of female elves by the counter, who, despite being more reserved, also seemed to be having a good time as they chatted with a human soldier. An elven bard by the edge of the inn was playing an instrument Dalrus didn't quite recognize. It looked like a guitar, but had a more... Oval shape, and less strings. His fingers deftly moved back and forth over them, producing a serene melody to match the drunken dwarves' singing. A single waitress was dashing back and forth, trying to take everyone's orders with a smile.
The whole place was absolutely nothing like Gilneas. Sure, they had their bars and drunkards as well, but nothing was as rowdy as what Dalrus was bearing witness to. He made his way towards the counter, where a fat, bearded old man was busy filling mugs with ale from huge barrels stacked up behind him and laying them on the edge of the counter for the waitress to pick up. Finally, the man took notice of the youth tapping his fingers as he looked around curiously. "Oy, this ain't place for children. Get going, will ya?" He said, making rude sweeping gestures towards Dalrus.
Dalrus frowned back at the man. Did he look that young? He was already starting to grow a beard, too. The past couple of weeks, that shade of hair had already began to show over his nose and around his jawline. "Do I look like a bloody kid to you, old man? I'll have you know, I'm with the Gilneas Brigade. Don't suppose you have some wine back there, or is beer all you got?"
To Dalrus' surprise, this made some people launch curious looks at him, especially the humans. The barman huffed, then slowly he placed his hands on the counter and leaned down to look at Dalrus in the eye. "That so? Well, mighty nice of you to finally show your royal arse around here. I'll go and fetch your drink right away. It might take a couple years to get here, though... But that's not something you're a stranger to, ain't that right?" Some of the people around him laughed, and the barman, with a cocky little smirk, stood up and turned his back on the very confused rogue.
"Bloody hell..." Dalrus muttered, turning his back to the counter and leaning against it. Some people were still watching him, and he could swear a couple were outright glaring. 'Blimey... Guess we aren't too popular around these folks.' He thought, his brows furrowing a bit. 'Guess old man Greymane made some pretty unpopular decisions. Can't say I blame these folks for resenting us.' Letting out a sigh, Dalrus stood up straight and looked back at the barman who had made absolutely no effort to go fetch him anything. Shaking his head, Dalrus began to make his way out of the inn.
"Oy, what's the matter, Gilnean?" Dalrus heard someone scream behind him. "Ye goin' back ta that wall o' yers?" Looking back, Dalrus saw one of the dwarves shaking his beer mug at him, causing some of its contents to spill over the edge and soak the table he was sitting on. His nose was huge, round and already red as a beet. His long brown beard sported braids along the sides, and he was wearing some light chainmail under his beer-stained tabard. "Barely got here and yer' already abandonin' the Alliance again, aren't ye?"
Dalrus stopped, then slowly turned around to face the drunkard. "Beg your pardon?" He said in a very polite tone as he lifted a brow inquisitively towards the dwarf.
"Aye, ya heard me loud and clear, brat! Don't pretend ye didn't!" The dwarf brought the mug to his lips and took a huge swig, leaving his mustache white after he slammed it onto the table. "Comin' here after all that's happened! Abandonin' us durin' the second war! And now that blasted king o' yers sends a handful of soldiers with his best wishes!? Bah!" The dwarf spat onto the floor before him. The entire tavern had gone silent now, all eyes on him. "Tis' insulting, that's wot it is! I'll be damned if I'll be fighting alongside cowards and yellow bellies against demons and the undead! Go back to that bloody wall o' yers while the real soldiers fight the war!"
Dalrus could tell people were starting to gather outside of the inn now. The dwarf was speaking quite loudly, after all. He could see the guards outside peering in through the windows. Didn't look like they would be doing much to enforce law and order right that moment. Dalrus sighed, then looked down at his gloved hands with disinterest, checking it for dirt. "That all you had to say, big guy? I got stuff to do." And with that, he turned his back once more and headed towards the door.
"The hell ye' just said ta' me, ye' sniveling brat!?" Came the scream from behind. Dalrus had to admit that, for someone so clearly drunk, the dwarf was still quite the shot. He had to lean his head to the side to dodge the incoming empty beer mug that was hurled at him. "Ye think yer' so high n' mighty! Can't wait ta watch yer' people turn yellow and run the first moment ye lay eyes on the enemies out there! Cowards like ye can never be trusted, especially that lying, two-faced backstabbing king o' yers!"
Dalrus' eye twitched. He took in a deep breath, then turned around. The following second, the dwarf was laying over the table, Dalrus' foot firmly planted against the back of his head and the other giving him some leverage on the floor below as he pressed the jagged edge of his dagger against the bulky little man's neck. "I'm sorry, what was that? Care to repeat what you just said about my king to my face, mate?" Dalrus said with all the calm in the world.
Everyone in the inn gasped, most of them standing up. The dwarves on the table next to them all suddenly got up, most of them reaching for their weapons. "Get your hands offa me, brat! I'll twist yer little neck, I will!" The drunken dwarf screamed as he slammed on the table, but suddenly went still as Dalrus pressed his dagger harder against that thick, muscular neck. "No, I don't think that's what you said earlier. Something about my king? Mind saying that to my face rather than my back this time, mate?" Dalrus grunted, grinding his boot against the dwarf's skull.
"THAT'S ENOUGH, THE TWO OF YOU!" Suddenly a shout came from the doorway. Dalrus looked up, and saw what could only be a paladin standing by the inn's entrance. The man's armor was made of heavy golden plates with a blue tabard showing the symbol of a golden lion on the front. He was wearing a horned helmet that covered most of his face, with two little dark holes showing his eyes by the front. "You, Gilnean. Get off from the dwarf and sheathe your weapon before I have you detained. Now." He said, glaring at Dalrus. He could tell the man was clearly a figure of authority by the way he spoke, as well as how people seemed to actually pay attention to him. "Alright, you're the boss." Dalrus said, pulling his foot away from the dwarf's head and hanging his dagger by his belt, then lifting his hands to show he no longer was holding anything.
"Now ye done it, ye cowardly, stinky little-" The dwarf began to say when the paladin shouted: "GAELYN! I TOLD YOU WHAT WOULD HAPPEN THE NEXT TIME YOU STIRRED UP TROUBLE BY THE INN!" This made the dwarf - whose name Dalrus supposed was Gaelyn - slowly turn to face the paladin. "Ah... Lord Wyrmbane, ya see, this boy here, he-"
"I heard you loud and clear from the outside, Gaelyn, as I'm sure half the entire encampment did. I know how you provoked him. And I warned you what I would do next time your drunk words started another fight here. Take him away." The man known as 'Wyrmbane' waved over his shoulder, and inside the inn came three soldiers who took the dwarf Gaelyn by his arms and dragged him off as he kicked and squirmed in a drunken rage. The paladin then turned to face Dalrus, who stood there with his hands on his pockets and a neutral expression. "As for you, Gilnean... How old are you?"
"I'm seventeen." He replied, lifting a brow up at the armored man. "So, yes, I'm already of age to go to war, and drink."
"So you say. But this is not the place for children who fight back at the slightest provocation. If you think we will let you wander around doing whatever you want, you're very mistaken." The paladin walked towards Dalrus, who, without flinching, stood his ground and continued to look deeply into those dark holes on Wyrmbane's helmet. "My name is Halford Wyrmbane. I am the High Commander of the human expedition under Lady Jaina's leadership. Understand this, boy. This war that you are just arriving at, we have been fighting for well over a year. Many people here lost their homes while Gilneas closed its gates and comfortably sat behind their walls all this time. I personally say that it is better late than ever, but Gaelyn is not the only person here who resents your people for taking so long to take action. This time, I will let things slide... But if I hear you or anyone else from your kingdom got into another fight, I'll see to it you pay the toll. What we need now is unity, not pointless bickering and bar fights. AND THIS!" Now the paladin was looking back at the rest of the people inside the inn, as well as the crowd outside watching them. "GOES FOR ALL OF YOU! I WILL NOT PERMIT ANY MORE STRUGGLES AMONGST OURSELVES! REGARDLESS OF RACE OR NATIONALITY, WE CAME HERE TO STAND TOGETHER AGAINST THE SCOURGE! NOW GET BACK TO YOUR POSTS!" And with that, the paladin left, and soon the crowd began to scatter. Dalrus let out a long, tired sigh and rubbed his eyes. He then felt a tap on his shoulder. Warily, he turned around to see yet another dwarf. This one looked much older than the one who Dalrus was just fighting with. His beard was almost completely white, with deep wrinkles around his face. His nose was long and slightly curvy like a bird's beak. His mustache was so thick, Dalrus couldn't even see his mouth. "Oy, lad. I want ta' apologize on behalf of Gaelyn. He's a mean drunk. Ye wanted some wine, right? Why don't ye let me treat ye? Name's Baelyn. That thick-skulled moron that just got dragged off is me brother."
Dalrus looked at the short, hairy man up and down for a moment. Much like all dwarves, he was about two thirds of his height. His head sported a few stray locks of white hair pulled back in a single long braid down his back. He wore a chain mail over his chest, and his strong, muscular warms were bare. He also wore strangely thick leather pants with metallic boots. His eyes were a deep brown, and didn't look very harsh as they peered at Dalrus. "Well, you're already nicer than he was. Sure, I'll take you up on that." He finally said, offering the dwarf a smile, along with his outstretched hand. "Dalrus. Dalrus Plaguefang. Nice to meet you, Baelyn. And sorry I roughed your brother up like that. I wasn't actually gonna stab him or anything. Just trying to give him a scare."
Baelyn let out a hard chuckle that Dalrus recognized came from a heavy smoker. "Aye, I could tell, and I bet so did the commander." He said, taking Dalrus' hand with a grip that almost made the boy wince. "No real killing intent, lad. But that was quite the trick ta' pull. All me years, the only people I've seen pop from one place ta' the other in an instant were mages. But I never met one that could handle a knife as well as ye." He waved towards his table, which was now currently empty. Dalrus lifted Gaelyn's fallen chair and sat down on it, Baelyn taking the one opposite to him. The dwarf then waved the waitress closer, a cheery girl with a short white dress under a dark leather bustier. Her hair was short and red, and she sported several freckles on her round face. "Good evenin', lass. I'll be having a refill on me mug, and the lad here said he was in the mood for some wine, eh?"
"Oh, sure thing! I don't think Gaunt will mind if I bring it for you!" The girl said, shooting them both a smile. She then turned to face Dalrus. "And thank you for dealing with that drunk loudmouth. He was really starting to get annoying! No offence, Baelyn."
"None taken, lass. I was about ta smack him across his fat head meself." The dwarf let out another rough, ragged chuckle that made Dalrus absolutely certain he was a smoker.
"But that was such a cool trick! Teleporting like that! Are you a wizard? Can you do more magic?" She was smiling widely at Dalrus, showing that her teeth were a little jagged and uneven. "Oh, I'm Trisha by the way! Gaunt is my dad. We run this inn together. My mom cooks in the back. I had never seen a Gilnean before. Is that just something you all do?"
"Woah, easy, love. One question at a time!" Dalrus said, raising his hands as he shot her a gallant grin. "Nah, not everyone can pull off this trick. Only rogues as skilled as me. Maybe I could show you sometime?"
Trisha giggled. "Oh, I'd love that! But I'm so busy here during the night. Maybe some other time?"
Dalrus winked. "For sure, beautiful. I'll look out for you during your free time."
The girl had to turn around and cover her mouth as she had a strong giggling fit. Trying to hold back, she said "Excuse me!" And hurried off towards the kitchen as Dalrus watched with a raised brow and an amused smile on his face. "Quite the lady killer, aren't ye lad?" Baelyn said, and Dalrus could tell the dwarf was also smiling under his beard. "Ah, well..." He replied. "My entire life I've only been living in that city. Not that the girls there aren't interesting... But meeting someone new like this... It's the kind of thing that really stirs my interest, you know?" He leaned back on his seat and placed his hands over the table. "To be honest, this is my first time to ever leave Gilneas. I had never seen anything that I saw today. This new continent... Elves, dwarves, people from other nations... It's all pretty amazing to me."
"Ye don't say? Takes a lot of courage to venture out in the world like this. Me, I've been in this bloody business for well over a century now." Baelyn sighed, his fingers curling around the handles of his empty ale mug as he peered down into it's empty insides. "I've had me fair share of explorin', lad. And let me tell ye. The world is a larger place than ye can imagine."
Dalrus lifted both his brows at that. "A century? Huh... Kudos to you, mate. If a human that old tried to go to war, the weight of the equipment alone would kill him before the enemies."
Baelyn threw back his head and let out a loud, hearty laugh at that. "HAR! Dwarves age differently than humans, lad. Most of our people make it well over the two hundred years. Me, I'm barely a hundred and seventy. I'm not exactly young and sprightly anymore, but still got plenty of fight in me!" That moment, Trish came back with their drinks. Dalrus shot her another wink as she handed him a wine bottle along with a wooden mug, and the girl shied away from him as she giggled once again. She then gave them a curt bow and left to serve other tables. "Ye know, that's something I can respect about ye humans'. Ye only have half the time we do, and don't get me started on the elves... Those get to live forever as far as I know. But you people, despite all that little time, get so much done... All this, all that's going on right now, it's all thanks to that human lass, that Lady Jaina. Poor girl, she has so much on her shoulders... And I can tell she's young, even by your standards."
"Yeah, speaking of which, how does a bird like that end up commandeering the entire Human Expedition? Was her father someone famous, or something?" The boy casually asked as he brought the drink up to his lips. He wrinkled his face once he got a taste. It was absolutely nothing like Gilnean wine. This one tasted... Cheap. Somewhat sour.
Baelyn chuckled as he saw Dalrus' expression. "Aye, not the best stuff, but it gets our bellies full. Not like we can afford to carry around anything too fancy to war, eh?" The dwarf took another swig of his ale and sighed, causing his alcoholic breath to wash over Dalrus' face. "But, ta answer yer question... Lady Jaina is the apprentice or Archmage Antonidas. He was one of the greatest mages ta ever live. After that bloody prince went and killed everyone in Dalaran, he began to march all over the kingdom, destroying everything in his path. It was Lady Jaina who rounded up the survivors and led them here to this place. She's our savior in this dark hour. Even you answered her call, didn't ye?"
Dalrus tapped his chin in deep thought. "I suppose. She's just not quite who I expected would be leading us in the final battle against the demons and the undead." He took another sip of his glass, and tried not to twist his face too much this time. "So... I guess Gilneas isn't too popular around here, eh?"
He saw Baelyn lower his gaze towards the wooden table, then rest his elbow against the edge as he rolled the beer inside his mug. "Aye, lad... Not gonna lie ta' ye. There's plenty resentment against yer people. Ye need ta understand... Gilneas pretty much abandoned us during the second war. And we haven't heard a thing from them since this one began. The borders were closed, and no one was allowed inside. I understand yer king was just looking out fer his people, trying to keep them safe from this menace... But not everyone sees it this way. And we were hoping that he'd send the entire army ta help... Not three ships with a few soldiers inside. And Greymane isn't even here himself. Some people see this is just a token effort... Like he did back during the second war."
With a heavy sigh, Dalrus also placed his elbow upon the table and rested his chin on top of his hand. "Yeah, I can see how that would be frustrating. Thing is, we kind of got our own issues back home... And we really couldn't afford to send that many people over." Dalrus wondered what they would think of Greymane when they heard it hadn't even been him who sent the Gilneas Brigade to Kalimdor. "We got sieged by the undead for a few days. We barely managed to push them back, but then another more... Hairy issue showed up. So, you know. Gotta make sure we have a home to come back to after we are done here."
Another chuckle came from under Baelyn's beard. "Quite the optimist, aren't ye, lad? Aye... Must be nice to know ye still have something waiting for ye. Me and me brother... Our home was overtaken by those monsters. This expedition is all we have ta fight for now. So he's quite bitter towards anyone who hasn't lost everything to those blasted undead." Baelyn sighed in exasperation and poured some more of his beer down his gullet. Wiping his beard with the back of his arm afterwards, he looked out through the inn's window. "I've seen me fair share of war and conflict, but never anything this big. And just as the orcs left from our land, we have the blasted luck of running into them again here!"
"Come again?" Dalrus blinked. "Orcs? Here?"
"Aye. We did find it strange when suddenly the entire horde up and vanished from our lands. Apparently, they had stolen some ships and sailed off who knows where!" Baelyn took one more angry sip from his mug and burped loudly. "So imagine our surprise when we see them setting up bases here! Worst of all is that bloody musclehead Grommash, leader of those Warsong orcs. He's more beast than orc, I tell ye. Waving around that wicked axe and screaming like hell itself. I can see where he got the name from."
Dalrus' mouth was hanging slightly open as he tried to absorb the dwarf's words. "So... You're telling me... The orcs are here? We are fighting them? On top of everything else?"
Nodding, Baelyn chugged down the rest of his ale and slammed the empty mug against the table. "Damn right! Blast those filthy greenskins... Just when we thought we were finally rid of their whole lot! Turns out the sneaky little basterds somehow got a warning ahead of us! They just up and fled this way before this whole mess even started. No wonder ye don't see any orc zombies rushing down at ye. Not that I'm complaining about that, mind ye." The dwarf sighed and run his hand up along his semi-bald scalp. "Tensions are high and growing, lad. Everyone's at their limits, but we gotta push on. This war ain't gonna win itself. We will do whatever we need ta' survive and go back to our lives. No matter the cost."
Dalrus went silent. He had heard plenty about the orcs before, but he never even imagined he would be running into them here of all places. It was bad enough that they needed to deal with the Scourge and the Burning Legion, but now the Orcish Horde as well? What was next, the return of the trolls? "What a bloody mess." He finally said, drinking some more of his awful, cheap wine. "Aye, what a bloody mess indeed." Baelyn agreed with a nod.
The two sat there in silence for a few moments, Dalrus rolling his drink around in his mug as Baelyn ordered a new one from Trish. The two then engaged into a bit more of idle chatter about less serious matters - such as why Baelyn thought the elves allowed their eyebrows to be so bloody long. The two shared a few stories and some good laughs. Dalrus was especially interested in hearing about the dwarven kingdom.
"Ah, ye should see fer yerself one day, lad." Baelyn said. "Khaz Modan is like a gem sculpted right off the ground. Mountains as far as the eye can see, clear white snow on top of them. Nothing compares to the feeling of looking everything from atop a griffon."
"Wait, what? You're a griffon rider?" Dalrus asked in disbelief.
"Course I'm a rider! Can't ye tell by the getup?" Baelyn slapped his thigh, and Dalrus once again took notice of those thick pants he wore. "Ye need strong lower protection to keep ye in the saddle, but can't be wearing anything too heavy. Just some light chain armor and the good ol' trusty stormhammer. Aye, nothing compares to the sensation, lad. The wind rushing over yer body as ye spin the hammer over yer head, taking that long, careful aim at yer target..."
For a good hour, Baelyn was happy to answer all Dalrus' question about being a griffon rider. How high had he flown, how fast had he dived, what sort of battles had he faced... It really helped the boy realize how much existed in the world. Before long, the inn was absolutely full of people, and the two had to shout to be heard over the dozens of people laughing, singing, chatting and insulting one another. Finally, Dalrus shaked Baelyn's hand and said: "Well mate, this has been quite a wonderful chinwag, but I reckon I should be going back now. Great meeting ya, Baelyn. You keep your chin up, eh?" The dwarf let out another one of his ragged, heavy-smoker laughs and slapped Dalrus so hard on the back he almost fell down. "Ye too, lad. Thanks for keepin' me entertained tonight. And sorry again about me brother. Don't take none of that personally. Great to meet ya, and keep yer feet on the ground! Ye need anythin', don't be afraid ta ask!" And with that cheery farewell, Dalrus left the inn, his ears ringing from all the noise and a sour taste in his mouth from the awful wine he ingested.
Looking around, the only people occupying the streets of the garrison at that time were sentries stationed along the watchtowers and walls. Things were peaceful for the moment. 'If only things could just stay this way...' He thought as he looked up at the cloudless night sky. The moon was a quarter full that night, shining down on them with a gorgeous radiance. The other moon was slightly to its left, looking small and pretty as always. He couldn't help but think that somehow those moons looking over Kalimdor looked even more beautiful than they did whenever Dalrus looked at them back home in Gilneas.