With Gazz dead, it was pitifully simple for Kowler to loot through his belongings.

Gnolls as a society were natural believers in the rule that might was right, and when Gazz, who was the alpha of the Mosshide pack was defeated, Kowler was thus placed on a similar pedestal. Regardless of the fact that he was born of the Redridge pack and shared no blood with these gnolls, they treated him like an alpha. And with that treatment, so too came a level of deference.

Kowler did not deny that it felt good. Real ego stroking stuff.

The first thing Kowler took was Gazz's mace. Though the fire elemental was dead, its core was still inside the weapons wooden head, and having only interacted with Astreamor's essence, Kowler was curious. With a twitch of the wrist, Kowler's waters ripped the mace apart, leaving an ovular sliver of crystalized flame, emitting a fluctuating warmth.

The second thing he did was go straight for the largest tent there was. Once the home of Gazz, now it was the hoard of his vanquisher.

It was actually quite sparce, all things considered. Smalls piles of weapons and random armor pieces and other shiny things were strewn around, and a single makeshift bed roll of beaten hay could be seen in the middle, with a pair of satchels lain at its headrest where a pillow would normally be found; one made of ruddy cloth and the other of fine leather.

Opening the finer satchel, Kowler found what he came for.

It was not a normal bag by any stretch of the word. This was an enchanted piece, a bag capable of holding more than it let on without the issue of weight to be found. The standard couriers fare, as could be discerned by the Bronzebeard brand sewn white into its brown leather casing. Sticking a hand inside, Kowler pulled out one of the gold bars he'd been tasked to grab and nodded. It too was branded with the royal symbol.

Grabbing the other satchel, Kowler was disappointed to find that it was not of enchanted stock. It was just a torn-up cloth bag, with a few human clothes inside for further comfort. Taking the clothes out, Kowler then scoured through Gazz's pile of stuff, looking for anything of use.

In the end, he found little, though he felt that was still enough. Of the armor, the only things that fit him were a pair of plate vambraces. Regarding the weapons, he was content with his new axe, though he did snag a metal buckler. It was always a smart idea to have a shield of some sort; more protection was better than less. And of the pile of shiny things, he found a small handful of gems and coins.

They were not clean, and few coins were gold. Primarily, it seemed that Gazz had an interest in silver over anything else, but Kowler understood that regardless, money was money, and he was quite short on money as a whole.

With both satchels strapped to his shoulders, Kowler left the tent, pausing in befuddlement as the Mosshide pack grouped around its entrance, looking on at him with unhidden interest. Kowler assumed that there were roughly ninety of them in total, maybe more. He tensed, ready for a fight should there be one.

One approached from the group, a larger gnoll wearing a headdress of colored feathers, a ceremonial looking thing. "You kill Gazz. You lead."

"No," Kowler quickly refuted. He did not want to lead these gnolls, or any gnoll, really. Not only was that a difficult task, but he was in the middle of other things and it would make a mess of his future goals.

Well, being truthful, he didn't really have any concrete future goals. He just knew that sticking around with other gnolls wouldn't have put him in a position of want.

…Maybe some other time.

"You no kill Gazz?" The gnoll asked, confused.

"Kowler killed Gazz, yes." He amended, having quickly realized that his answer would be confusing to his duller kin. "Kowler no want lead."

"But… Kowler kill Gazz? No kill?"

"Me kill Gazz."

"Kowler lead!"

"No want lead."

The gnoll looked horribly confused, his face scrunched up in a state of plane disarray. Kowler was in no better state, having been fortunate to have been able to avoid this level of conversation. He could almost feel his braincells dying.

Deciding to nip it in the bud right then and there, Kowler approached and placed his hand on the gnoll's shoulder. "Name?"

"Sagepaw."

Kowler nodded shortly and jostled him around so that they were both facing the rest of the pack. "Sagepaw lead pack!" he said, quite loudly.

There were grumbles and grunts, but more than that, there were nods of agreement and understanding. For Kowler, the new alpha, to proclaim Sagepaw as leader, then it was decided that Sagepaw would be leader. It was a bonus that Sagepaw was already well respected amongst the Mosshides, else they wouldn't have elected him to speak for them in the first place.

Sagepaw looked as if he did not know what to do with this elevation, or that he could elevate to this position at all. "But… Me not kill Kowler. Me not lead…?"

"You lead in Kowler name." Kowler said, hoping that that would work. Delegation was important, after all. "Kowler go away, get strong. Sagepaw lead while gone."

Sagepaw gasped and nodded quickly. "Sagepaw do! Yes, yes!"

Kowler merely patted the now excitable on the shoulder and walked away, the Mosshides moving away to make a path. Some more interested gnolls, primarily of the female variety, made to touch at him as he walked, and Kowler game-facedly ignored them.

It was when he exited the clearing, many minutes later, when the Mosshides were no longer in his periphery, that he summoned forth the water from around and shot it into the air. As it rose and rose into the sky, the control that Kowler held over it began to dwindle, until the spirits of the air completely took control and turned the water to vapor, to then be twisted into a blackened cloud that boomed out the thunder of a soon-to-be-storm.

Talvash came down from the west then, animatedly chattering from atop his carpet. "When you mentioned days ago that I would have a signal, I never thought it would be something like that!"

"Nor did I," Kowler admitted, hopping onto the carpet. He'd not realized that the Wetlands would be such a boon to his magic, so he'd not thought that his signal would be so apparent.

"It was an inspiring sight all the same!" Talvash cheered. They began to fly away from the packlands, towards a mountain range to the west. "How did the mission go, though?"

"Easy enough." And the fact that it was so easy still rankled him. That a task that should have been difficult was easy spoke of the fact that he did indeed gain strength and power in this life, but Kowler knew this world, and knew that once something was easy, something difficult was soon to follow. His worry was on what that difficulty would be. "I have the gold and the bag they came in."

"Excellent! And good on you for grabbing the bag, Shilah will appreciate that."

Kowler nodded. "And we're heading to her? In Menethil? Actually, on that topic, won't I need the amulet? So as not to cause a panic?"

Talvash chuckled. "So quick to want a human form, aren't you? We will arrive in Menethil tomorrow. A farmstead owned by the Explorer's League will be putting us up till the coming morning. I have already explained to the operators there of your being a gnoll, and though they are understandably concerned, they will cause no trouble so long as you do the same. So, no. No amulet. Not yet."

Nodding, Kowler looked forward, hiding a frown. He'd spent the better part of a week in that human form, and when Talvash and he spent a night in Thelsamar, it was perhaps the most welcome he'd ever felt in his near three years of life. Kowler wanted to feel that again, and more than that, he wanted to continue feeling that.

\ v /

/ ^ \

The farmstead Talvash brought them to was a quaint little place nestled into the mountains just below the borderlines of Dun Morogh. Home to a small dwarven family, two dwarven sons and their elderly mother, there was little to be had. The fields were well maintained, riding rams and milking sheep wandered with little impunity, and barrels of hay were stacked along a narrow stone pave.

Kowler belatedly recognized this place as the hidden farm in the Wetlands from the game. It initially created purely to act as a view for players taking flight paths, but once the Cataclysm occurred it was fleshed out. There was still relatively nothing to be known about the place, however, so the small tour and detailing offered by the family was well received and especially interesting to Kowler, as was the stone roofed barn he'd been offered for the night.

What was more interesting, however, was the gnome sitting right in front of him, casually eating a radish with the same enthusiasm one would expect from a squirrel to an acorn.

"So…" Kowler began, struggling to find the best way to begin this line of talking.

"Sho?" Talvash repeated, cheeks full and puffy.

Bluntness had not failed him yet when it came to this gnome, and so he decided to be succinct and clear. "Magic."

Talvash swallowed audibly and wiped his lips with his sleeve. "Ah, magic, of course! Did you find anything I might want to trade for?"

Talvash had asked for one of two things; coin, or interesting magical items. While Kowler was now in possession of some amount of coin, the only newly acquired thing he held that was of a magical variety was the sliver from that fire elemental.

But it was relatively useless as a whole, the remains of a dead spirit, and surely it could be useful to Talvash?

Kowler dug through his ratty satchel, coins chinking with the movement, and withdrew the ovular object, placing it before his gnomish companion.

Curious, Talvash picked it up and examined it, making noises of interest all the while. "Interesting… I do not believe I know what it is."

"Really?" Kowler asked as Talvish twisted it around. "I thought you would. It's the core of a fire elemental."

With a startled yelp, Talvash tossed it away, letting it fall onto the dirt floor, and then scooted further back into the barn, purple rings of arcane magic twisting over his hands in that same instant. "Are you out of your mind?!"

Confused, Kowler lifted the sliver, checking it over for any imperfections. "I don't think so…"

"You must be if you think I'd want that! It's forbidden for a reason!"

"What are you even talking about?"

Taking a set of calming breaths, still holding a wary distance from the sliver, Talvash reduced the magic held in hand and made to explain. "First, a history question. What do you know of the War of the Three Hammers?"

"Not much." Kowler admitted. "The three major dwarven clans fought over territory I think? Then the Dark Irons went crazy and lit their lands aflame, turning what was once fertile soil into the Burning Steppes and the Searing Gorge."

"A very stilted explanation, missing the prose and reasons for conflict to have occurred in the first place. Simply put, just over three hundred years ago, there was only one clan; the Ironforge clan, ruled by the Anvilmars of Dun Morogh. King Modimus Anvilmar was the last of his kin, having no living children left to pass his crown on to, and his only family were his younger triplet sisters who were each wed into the Bronzebeard, Wildhammer and Dark Iron clans. And so, when he died, a succession crisis occurred, each clan thinking they were meant to rule Ironforge, which eventually led to a three-way civil war. To keep things brief, the Bronzebeard clan won the war, partly due to good strategy and because they had established an appeal of brotherhood with the gnomes of Gnomeregan. With our help they were able to claim Ironforge for their own whilst banishing the Wildhammer and Dark Iron clans from Dun Morogh. The Wildhammers went north to Dun Algaz and made their own mountain city of Grim Batol, and the Dark Irons went south to the Redridge Mountains and too founded their own city, which their leader Thaurissan named after himself."

"But what does that have to do with-"

"I'm not done, Kowler." Talvash said, scowling. Never having seen such a look on the gnome before, Kowler closed his mouth with an audible click. "Though the Wildhammers had accepted their lot in life and eventually flourished, the Dark Irons maintained a grudge and, years later, launched another war against both clans. This time, the Bronzebeard and Wildhammer clans joined together, and beat back the Dark Irons with impunity. Enraged by this unprovoked assault, the armies of Ironforge and Grim Batol marched south to destroy Thaurissan once and for all."

Talvash pointed a stubby finger towards the sliver Kowler now held. "Thaurissan panicked, and ordered his magic users all try to do something, anything, that would beat back their enemies. Storms of stone and waves of wind, spells and potions and actions of all manner of nature were employed, and yet it was when their mystics broke the core of a dead elemental that they won, though not in the manner they wished."

"Ragnaros." Kowler murmured.

The gnome nodded shortly. "As was later discovered, when an elemental dies, their remains are rarely meant to stay for long. It is the natural order of their kin to absorb whatever is left of them. This is because even dead, their lingering essences are still connected to the elemental planes. Thaurissan's mystics experimented with the remains of a fire elemental whose title the Heart of Redridge, who they had to defeat in order to construct their city, and upon breaking it, accidentally created a pathway strong enough to summon the Fire Lord. His power was so great that the armies of Grim Batol and Ironforge fled, and the Redridge Mountains were scarred into the great crater that Blackrock Mountain alone stood tall."

"That-…" That shouldn't have been the case. Though all elementals had some connection to their planes of origin, it should not be that one could be accessed by mortals in such a manner.

Kowler had admittedly been confused as to how Blackrock Mountain became home to Ragnaros. Though the lore suggested that he was summoned by the Dark Iron's, the fact of the matter was that nobody should have that kind of power. The Elemental Lords were locked up tight in their domains and were meant to stay that way.

The Shattering of the Cataclysm was reasonable in their manner of escape. The weakening of one elemental plane weakened them all, and Deathwing literally brute forced his way through Deepholm in order to return to Azeroth, destroying the World Pillar in the process, which shook the foundation of the planet itself. With a hole through Deepholme, a hole through the other elemental planes was made available, which Ragnaros, Al'akir, and the naga of Vasjhir took advantage of.

What the Dark Iron's did should not have held a candle to that, and yet Ragnaros was still made free. "That couldn't have been right."

"Trust me, after years of trial and error, using the remains of water and earth elementals in the aftermath of that travesty, we've determined this for certain. Each time a core is broken, stronger elementals were summoned as a result, and the experiments only stopped when a water spirit known as Duke Hydraxus was brought forth, who flooded the testing facilities and drowned the researchers at the same time." Talvash said. He slumped a bit, still eyeing the sliver with unhidden wariness, but no longer held magic in his palms. "It is considered forbidden by the Alliance to break one of those cores, and to be on the safer side, it was later made forbidden to even possess one. They are fragile, and in the wrong hands could cause serious harm."

Kowler held it close to his body regardless. "I'll not give it up." This was his first piece of rare loot! And from that description it was nearly of an epic quality! He didn't want to lose it just after getting it.

"I imagined not," sighed the gnome. "Very well, do with it as you will. But I will have no involvement."

No, it seemed he wouldn't.

Kowler had expected a very different response. Perhaps excitement for what enchantments might be explored using the sliver as a reagent, or perhaps even boredom and derision, for it wasn't like it was hard for Kowler to get this item. Nothing Kowler imagined could have prepared him for such vitriol and worry.

And yet, his attention still held true.

The sliver of power would remain on his person for now. In the future, to sweeten the interests of elementals that might contract under him, Kowler would offer it as food for them. A bribe, to put it simply.

Stashing his bribe into his satchel, Kowler then withdrew his coinage. "And how about this?"

"That I am much more inclined towards." Talvash said, his usual cheer coming back with a force. "Do you know how much is there?"

"I counted while you were gathering food from the dwarves. Seventeen gold coins and fifty-one silver coins." There were more silver coins in the tent, but no more gold. He would have taken more of the silver, but the satchel he'd taken was already beginning to chafe with the extra weight, and Kowler worried to risk it further.

Talvash whistled. "That will do well, I think. Five gold coins per lesson! Generous, don't you think?"

Kowler snorted. "Not likely." Comparing the coinage system used on Azeroth to what was found on Earth was tricky, but goods and services were simple enough. A full loaf of bread cost roughly two coppers, and a room in a normal inn cost ten. If inns were comparable to motels, and having spent many a night in motels, Kowler estimated that one copper was the rough equivalent of five dollars.

Meaning that, since one silver equaled one copper, and one gold equaled one silver, a gold coin was worth close to $50,000.

…Actually just doing that math sounded ridiculous. A work horse was worth ten gold coins. Work horses were not worth $500,000.

"Fifty silver a lesson." Kowler said instead. That sounded fairer, right?

"…Four gold."

And so the bargaining began.

"One."

"Three gold!"

"How about I do you a favor and stay with one?"

"Two gold, and that's the lowest I'll go! My time is valuable, as are the secrets you mean to take from me!"

Kowler rolled his eyes. "It's not like I'm asking for your personal spells, I just want the basics. Later on, if I feel I need some stronger stuff, I'll pay appropriately. One gold, fifty silver."

"We are at an impasse, it seems. I require more!"

"If you want more then I would need more as well…" Well, he couldn't not try. "I'll tell you what. I'll give you fifteen gold coins for magic lessons and the amulet. I'll even give you those samples you want as a bonus."

"Er…" Talvash sounded, looking both wounded and hopeful, and struggling to determine which should have been more prevalent.

"It's a good deal." Kowler said, jingling his coins. "Wouldn't you say?"

"It's a horrible deal," Talvash ground out. "But I want those samples. But it's- it's… It's just not enough! The amulet is worth more than that!"

"Well, I would throw in those fire elemental leavings, but somebody doesn't want them."

Talvash grumbled too quietly for Kowler to understand, and then paced atop his barrel of hay, searching for a better solution. Minutes passed, and then his mechanical whirled with vigor as he snapped with excitement.

"A rental!"

Kowler blinked. "Hm?"

"I cannot sell you the amulet for such a price, but I can rent it to you. Two gold coins per month, which is a nonnegotiable number, I should add. Meaning, if you paid right now, you would have it for six months."

"Twelve gold then, with two extra for magic lessons?" Kowler asked, humming.

"No, fifteen gold coins. You're the one trying to shiv me for things that I own. The lessons will cost three gold coins. And I'll be getting those samples. Agreeable?"

It was very agreeable, especially considering Kowler only had access to that coinage for a grand total of two hours. Though saving it would have done him a great service, he was about to enter an expedition into the catacombs of a titan facility rife with treasure. He'd make it back soon, that and more.

"I will agree..." Kowler finally said. "On the condition that you accept me for the Badlands dig."

"That was already going to be done." Talvash chirped.

Nodding, Kowler held out his hand. Talvash shook it happily and then reached into his fanny pack, idly pulling out both the amulet Kowler so desperately wanted and a parchment paper wrapped around a quill. Talvash wrote some words onto the parchment and then sliced his thumb with the edge of his mechanical eye, blotting a lined section with his blood.

Kowler took the paper for himself and skimmed it, thankful that it was written in Common. A standard agreement of partial ownership, Kowler was to pay two gold coins per month in order to use an enchanted item crafted by Talvash del Kissel. Should he not pay the fee at any time, he would have to pay an interest rate of twenty-five percent, doubling each month. In simpler terms, if Kowler missed any of his payments, he'd need a lot more money.

Money that Kowler did not particularly want to spend. "How much would it cost to purchase this amulet in total, by the way?"

"I would accept no less than two hundred gold coins for it. That, or a magical item of exceptional worth."

An exceptionally high number, but seemingly worth it. "And what if I were to refuse further payments but keep the amulet?"

"You wouldn't be able to," said Talvash. "If I don't have the gold after two months of late payments, I've installed a matrix that will teleport the device back to my apartment. Either I have my coin, or you have nothing. And I'll revoke both my endorsement of you with the League."

The gnoll grunted his understanding and signed the bottom line with his blood. Having been accustomed to high rental costs once upon a time, the number offered wasn't completely unexpected. Exuberant certainly, but unexpected? No, not really. And the clauses of loss were to be expected; you don't mess with money.

It was just a question that need be asked.

A small change in the coloration of the paper occurred, light yellow parchment turning a sharp green. The contract curled up on itself and returned to Talvash's fanny pack. With that done, Talvash collected his money and handed the amulet over.

Just as Kowler made to put it on once more, to return to that human form, Talvash stopped him with a small handful of alchemy vials.

"Um." Kowler sounded, befuddled.

"The polymorph muddles the research samples. And knowing how desperate you were to wear my magic again, you were unlikely to take it off for long. Go gather my samples, then you can wear it."

Kowler pouted briefly, but begrudgingly understood. He plucked some of his fur and skin, knicked his shoulder deeply enough to both bleed and retrieve some tissue, and then went around the back of the barn to do the more embarrassing dues.

...How exactly does a gnoll masturbate?

\ v /

/ ^ \

"And it will know where to go?" Kowler asked, dubiously looking towards the beast of burden. It was a large creature, with the back half of a tan bodied lion and the front half of an oversized bald eagle, fused together in an unholy yet still strikingly powerful creature. A gryphon; the staple of flight in the Eastern Kingdoms.

The flight master of Menethil Harbor, Shellei Brondir, a portly woman with a tight braid of red hair, pushed her oversized glasses down in order to offer the human-disguised gnoll a baleful look. "You doubtin' my girls?" Echoing that thought, the gryphons surrounding them growled, a rumbling sound that would scare all but the toughest of folk.

Kowler, while considering himself tough, did not believe he was of that category just yet, and so raised his hands in apparent surrender. "I've not ever traveled by gryphon before, I wouldn't know what to expect."

Shellei spat a black wad of tabaco into the dirt, mumbling about "Fancy eyed fore'ners." She then headed into her stable and started muddling through stirrups and straps.

She isn't wrong, Kowler thought bemusedly, doing his best to maintain his politeness. Talvash was not so willing to hold back his snickers.

Two days had passed since his trade with Talvash, and they'd arrived at Menethil Harbor. The port town was in the midst of a bustling affair; the streets were lined with shopkeep stalls and patrons from all the world over were scouring around. Night elves and humans and dwarves and gnomes; even a few goblins. It was a trade hub the likes of which only novels of fantasy could hope to claim, but based on its location and the world in which it was based, Kowler could not find fault. Obviously.

Their own business was quick to conclude upon arrival; Shilah of the Explorers League had met them at the local inn and quickly took the bag of Ironforge stamped gold, leaving just the next morning. Apparently the boat to Auberdine had been docked for the past day and a half, and was soon to leave. She was lucky to have been able to grab it at all; passage fees and other mercantile talk having been decided already. Had Kowler and Talvash not delivered the gold on that day, she would have been stuck renting her room for another three weeks, possibly another month.

She was, naturally speaking, quite happy that they'd arrived when they did. So happy in fact that she offered the pair each a boon, should it be within her power. Talvash wanted money, for he proclaimed he wanted to make a new flying carpet and funds were needed, and so three gold coins were sent his way, quite the high payment for a courier service, though given the difficulty of the task and the combat involved, even if Talvash was not involved in said conflict, it was a fair fee. Kowler requested leave to keep the enchanted satchel that held the gold bars he'd just delivered. The gold, while pleasant, was not of as much interest as the storage unit holding them.

Disappointingly, Shilah could not offer him that, for the gold was bound to the satchel until its delivery was complete. She did however have a consolation offer; her personal enchanted canteen, not as wide and not as deep as the satchel but enchanted all the same to hold more than its meager size should permit. A gift of some sort from a former foreman of hers, though she stated she'd never used it near to capacity.

Given the fact that the majority of his combative and restorative abilities came from using water, Kowler was quick to accept.

From there, after a few more lessons in magic took place and supplies were gathered, their separation was afoot. Though that led to a new curiosity in Kowler.

"How do flight masters ensure their gryphons make it to one another?"

"Gryphons raised by flight masters are introduced and scented to various nesting matriarchs as younglings," Talvash explained, noting his interest. "And more than that, gryphons as a species have some of the strongest senses of smell out there, able to scent their target from hundreds of miles away. From that, flight masters keep materials marked by these various matriarchs, feathers or cloth scraps and such, and train their gryphons to fly to the matriarchs that remain in the various pens that flight masters command. Most of those them have their wings clipped early on, and are thus unable to leave the pens, allowing flight masters to create a relatively stable taxi service."

"Fascinating." And it really was. Though, sadly, Kowler could not think of a way to really take advantage of it.

Shellei returned then, leading a gryphon by the beak towards the front. In her hand was a brown rag, white letterings spelling IRONFORGE clear and concise. "Right, which one'a you's going to Ironforge?"

"That'd be me!" Talvash squeaked.

The woman turned her attention back to Kowler, eying him up and down with a more scrutinous sort of look. "Then he's fer the digs?"

"That he is!" Talvash once more squeaked.

Kowler, not really knowing what to do, just blinked and nodded.

Shellei grunted. "You'll be staying till Greenbeak's rested then. Be another couple days, I s'pect. He flew all the way from Lordaeron jus' last night. Needs his shut eye."

"I need to wait for a specific gryphon?" Kowler asked, his brow furrowed. "Couldn't I just take a normal gryphon?"

"Sadly you cannot." Talvash denied, shaking his head. "The Explorer's League, by way of strong relations with the Wildhammer clan, have specific gryphons that they use that aren't given the same training that these ones are. Their gryphons are all of the same family breed, and their system makes it so their matriarchs are brought to important digs, so that the others can find them easier. Were you to take a normal gryphon, you'd need to go to the location closest to the dig."

"That shouldn't be too bad," Kowler mused. "The digs in the Ba-"

"AHP!" Talvash shouted, startling Kowler into silence. "Ah ah ah! No talking about the digs in front of civilians! Even ones that know you're going to excavation sites! You're approved for this one now, meaning your information is confidential!"

Shellei, being the civilian in question, was not listening to them at all. In fact, she was in the back of her pen, calmly fastening leather straps over the body of one of her beasts, their screeches muffling the conversation.

"…I learned about the dig from an approved member." Kowler drawled, his tone a near deadpan.

"And they should not have done that." Talvash stated, frowning. "I believe his name is Bruefor?"

"Bruegal."

"Yes, Bluejam." Kowler rolled his eyes, correctly presuming that Talvash was being obtuse on purpose. "He should not have told you. I don't know the details and seeing as you have not told me them, they are not my business, but suffice to say, were the situation between the two of you not extenuating he would have been removed from the dig."

It was a strange, small sort of world where a prison sentence could be considered a measly extenuating circumstance.

Shellei whistled, grabbing the attention of the pair. "Alright, she's ready. You know the drills?"

Talvash nodded shortly. "No puking, no making to control the ride, and if I need to relieve myself, tug on the reins four times in three seconds. I'll be given five minutes."

"Right," Shellei said, nodding. "Say yer goodbyes and hop on up. Ye'll be back in Ironforge 'fore the days done."

Talvash genially reached out his hand, and Kowler covered it with his own, shaking it firmly enough that the gnome staggered a bit.

"It's been swell," Kowler said.

"Indeed it has!" Talvash agreed. "Why, the moment I return to the lab, I'll get right on looking over your samples! A grand thing, I think!"

"Must you?" the gnoll sighed. Those samples were… trying, to gather. And he did not like the idea of anybody messing about with his sperm, even when he knew not what they intended to do with it. It just felt like it'd bode poorly.

"Progress requires dedication, and for there to be progress with your kind, study must be done meticulously and quickly."

"Fine, fine. Mayhap you'll have something to show me the next time I see you."

"And mayhap you'll have a story or two the next time I see you, or some loot to trade!"

They smiled at one another, basking in the simple understanding that this would not be the last time they were to be together. Someday, though certainly no time discerned, they would reunite.

"Ah!" Talvash sounded. "Before I leave, one last time, show me your progress."

Nodding, Kowler held out his left hand, focusing heavily onto the palm. A black circle lay pressed into the center of his flesh, and from it, a condensed mist appeared, chilly and thick, twisting into a small shard of ice that was now held between the gnolls fingers. He breathed in shortly, feeling as though he'd been drained of some of his stamina, his heart beating a tad harder than it had previously.

"Good! Very good, especially for your magic having been awakened for only a few days." Talvash praised, clapping merrily. "Though, I suppose your background with the elements made it more likely for you to grasp these concepts easier. Why, should you continue with diligence, it will be soon that you'll be able to delve into fire, and from there, the Arcane might be ready for you. Just remember, one step at a time! We must crawl before we run, and you must practice the magic you've learned so far before delving further down this path."

Kowler smiled, crushing the shard. It was an extremely minor bit of magic, but the fact remained that it was magic that was his.

Lessons with Talvash were not what he'd expected. In truth, Kowler had no idea what to expect at all when it came to learning magic. But his gnomish guide was a talkative sort and was more than happy to outline a plan.

Magic, as it turns out, is something that need be awakened in an individual. All magic users had their talents built up by another in some manner, and Kowler was to be no exception. His connection to Astreamor and the rest of the elements of Azeroth was of a spiritual sense, but mana, the common descriptor of personal magic, was a physical thing, like a muscle. It needed to be treated differently.

It needed to be brought forth from within.

For millennia, the mortals of Azeroth had their mana awakened by way of external sources. Night elves brute forced the issue by way of the Well of Eternity; trolls by their Loa masters; tauren by their Wild God progenitor Niuzao the Black Ox (along with most other beast races and their ancestor, including his own, though the Wild God in question who spawned the gnolls was as-of-yet unknown); and gnomes and dwarves and vrykul (and their human descendants) by their titanic origins. There was always something that brought magic into the fray.

Over time, the descendants of these original magic users developed their own methods to awaken the magic in others without having to rely on overarching powers. At one time, it was a specialized ritual taking place over the course of years, but as time passed and understanding of the Arcane grew, it was now a simplified affair that spanned only a few minutes, with the singular side effect of being draining on the awakener.

The details were lost on Kowler, certainly he did not know or understand what was going on when Talvash had him strip nude for non-research reasons, but after the gnome strategically poked and prodded at his body with a finger visibly coated in a swirl of mana, Kowler felt a surge of power burst forth from his navel. It surrounded him, encompassed him, and he felt whole when he did not even understand he was missing something.

Kowler had no words to describe his magic. It was both alien and not, warm and cool, beautiful and horrible, and though it was strange to feel the metaphysical power coursing through his body, he never wished to lose its splendor.

From there, Talvash had him choose between fire and frost. When Kowler requested instead to be taught the Arcane, the gnome had the gall to laugh. "We'll be separating soon," Talvash had said. "And the Arcane takes time longer than we have together. Time and practice, neither of which you have. It will happen eventually, I feel. But for now, wet your wick with the more accessible stuff."

And so, begrudging though it was, Kowler chose frost magic. It was a simple thought; water turned to ice when sufficiently cold, and he fought with water more often than not. Having complimentary skills only made things easier as a whole.

It was not easy however. Awakening his magic was one thing, specifically altering his mana into ice and other elements was quite another.

For most non-magic users, all acts of the unordinary were magic. To most magic users, all acts of magic were categorized carefully so as to allow better understanding of their compositions. For mages, those that bent the Order to their will, they categorically used two magics; the Arcane, as should be expected, and Body magic.

Body magic, quite simply, was the manipulation of one's mana towards the natural borders of the body.

Kowler didn't really understand what that meant, so Talvash simplified it. "Body magic is a trick," he said. "Your mana will naturally guard you against the elements of the world; too hot and it will cool you, too cool and it will heat you up. Your mana's goal is for you to live an easier life. Body magic, subclassified more clearly into frost and flame, occurs when you individually are able to manipulate your mana with but a thought, as opposed to needing the world to do it for you."

And thus, Kowlers first lesson occurred. He was brought to an empty mountain cave, its interior coated in a smokeless blaze, his material belongings, including his staff, taken from him, and he was then placed directly into the middle of the cave.

His instruction was simple. Survive, but do not leave.

It was… difficult. Kowler wanted to grasp magic as quickly as possible, and whilst most students of Body magic developed their capabilities in controlled environments over ever-increasing stints of time, Kowler was doing the opposite. He took the quick and dirty approach, and that meant being thrown headfirst into the fire. Literally, in this case.

Hours and hours passed, his sweat being his only source of wetness, and even then, it was little comfort. It felt as if his eyes were going to melt, as if he himself was going to melt, and yet neither occurred. His mana, subtle though its actions were, did indeed work against the environment. It cooled him to such a degree that his body did not catch alight, but that was all. It did not bring comfort; it only made his survival longer to last.

When Kowler finally understood that, finally felt it working, he was able to do his due. Knowing what he needed, he manipulated his mana to deeper delve into that cooling feeling, and over time, he was able turn that cooling feeling frigid, which then left him able to do what he sought after.

The moment he summoned the smallest glimmer of ice, holding strong even in that fire coated room, the flames dissipated and Talvash appeared with a congratulatory smile.

That smile seemingly had not left the gnomes face since that moment. Kowlers neither, come to think of it; especially when he played with his newfound power. There was an addictive feeling, playing with magic. It was akin to what those that loved fitness felt when they felt their muscles do progressively more. It just felt good.

"I'll ask around the dig for any mages that might be willing to teach me more." Kowler told Talvash, watching with a hawkish sort of interest as the gnome climbed the back of his gryphon.

"It is unlikely you'll find any; mages tend to prefer their books and practice rooms over dig sights." Admitted the gnome. "But if you do come across one or two, be kind but thorough. Respectful but also demanding. Essentially, pester them for help, but not to the point of being a pest."

"A fine line," drawled the gnoll. The way Talvash described it made it appear entirely inane.

"Indeed it is!" the gnome cheered, taking a grip on the reins of his mount. "But magic itself is a fine line, and we tread it gladly. As shall you, soon enough, I believe."

Kowler could not help but smile. "I am glad you think so. I can only hope." And plan, of course, but plans had a habit of not lasting long.

Talvash opened his mouth, ready to make his own retort, but the gryphon seemed to have tired of waiting, and swiftly shot into the air, its gnomish companion shrieking in surprise.

Kowler watched him leave, content with his departure.

He was next to leave.

And he could not wait.

Last chapter of this part of the story. Soon we'll be getting to some meat and grits, and soon, Kowler will have the chance to go to town with his newfound magic! A lot happened in this chapter' Kowler gained some money then quickly lost it, he now has access to the amulet of polymorph for the next six months, and he learned some frost magic to compliment his water mastery. And while I don't want to toot my own horn, I honestly think the next handful of chapters will really start to cement what level of story I'm going for.

Next on our plate is the Excavation arc, which I hope will eventually lead you to understand what exactly is going to happen with the story. I haven't really given scale too much thought, but after this arc, the world will be properly open to our unlikely hero, and I can't wait to play around with the world Blizzard created (prior to their ruining it due to Activision, of course).

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