"Do I have the weapon for you," Quartermaster Swiftspear, a male night elf in leather armor, started to toss items across his tent. "Normally, the Cenarion Circle doesn't have any weapons, but they had a very rare opportunity back on Azeroth."
"Yeah, mon?" Dal'bin tried his best with small talk, sighing.
"Indeed, my good man," Quartermaster Swiftspear replied, grabbing a spear from his collection. "An Ancient of War fell in battle not too long ago. A few scavengers managed to retrieve some of his branches, and carved them into weapons like this. We could not destroy such sacred items, so we kept them. This spear will serve you well in battle. Not only will it not be destroyed like your last spear, but it will inspire you to fight harder! Here, take it and see it for yourself!"
Dal'bin grasped onto the spear, and gazed at it oddly. For a weapon made from an Ancient of War, it was shabby work. There were splinters across the shaft and the tip of it was dull. Within a hour, he could probably get it back into fighting shape, but something was on the edge of his mind. He felt the same holding onto the spear as he did before. The troll finally looked at the quartermaster dead in the eye. Swiftspear grinned confidently, and at last, the truth was revealed to the scout.
"So, are ya a druid?" Dal'bin questioned.
"Not all with the Cenarion Circle are druids," Quartermaster Swiftspear explained. "For example, I handle the supplies of the Expedition. Requires no druid training at all!"
"And has dis spear been used in battle?" Dal'bin continued his questioning.
"Not yet," Quartermaster Swiftspear shook his head. "Imagine the legend you could be. The first to wield such a marvelous weapon! What say you to that?"
Dal'bin kept his eyes locked with Quartermaster Swiftspear for his next act. In one swift motion, he slammed the spear shaft down on his raised knee. The rotting wood cracked and the spear snapped into two pieces. The elf looked in shock with the destruction of the weapon, his confident grin replaced by a drop jaw. The troll slammed the two pieces back into the quartermaster's hands. He had no room to deal with merchants who would certainly try to scam him if they were not to be given the supplies for free. He glared into the elf's eyes, crossing his arms.
"Get me some wood and a knife, mon," Dal'bin demanded. "I'll take care of it myself."
"Of course, my good sir," Quartermaster Swift spear sighed. "I'll be back with you in just a moment. Please, don't try to break anything else."
Dal'bin nodded, glad to have knocked some sense into the quartermaster and his merchant ways. He had experience when it came to dealing with such scams, having spent a few years living in Booty Bay. Once he was able to see through the lies of the goblins, he could see the false claims of any merchant. His skill was useful when it came to buying supplies for the best deal, but Oliktalv was in charge of that. Not that he, or anyone else, knew of this hidden talent of his.
While Quartermaster Stillwater looked about his supplies, Salin groaned from behind Dal'bin, losing his patience in line. The Vanguard had decided to talk to the quartermaster one at a time. Since he had no weapon, the scout was a priority to get his gear first. Salin was insistent on being second, and was followed by Balthar, who was reading his tome while waiting. Behind him was Colben, and the line was closed with Kelvin. Finnal had yet to return from Hellfire Peninsula while Oliktalv and Belara went to check out their lodging during their time at Cenarion Refuge. When the elf handed him a chunk of sturdy wood and a carving knife, the troll stepped out of line.
"About time," Salin muttered as he stepped forward. "Good day, my good man! I would ask of you for a ranseur."
"A ranseur?" Quartermaster Swiftspear raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Whatever could that be?"
"You see, it is like a spear, but with three prongs," Salin explained. "The middle prong extends further up while the other two to the side remain low."
"Ah, I see," Quartermaster Swiftspear quickly pulled out a similar weapon from his wares. "We found this off of one of the naga raiders. Will this suffice?"
"Will this suffice?" Salin repeated, somewhat annoyed. "That is clearly a trident. You can tell because all the prongs are the same size. You offend me by offering such a weapon as an alternative to the magnificent ranseur."
"It's the closest we got," Quartermaster Swiftspear told him. "Take it or leave it."
"Very well then," Salin sighed in disappointment, then hesitantly took the weapon. "It'll serve better than my quarterstaff at least. Balthar, you're up."
"Huh?" Balthar closed his book while Salin stepped up. "Oh, I see. Uh, I need a pair of robes, please."
"A pair of robes," Quartermaster Swiftspear nodded."It might be a size too big, but I have one in the back."
"Still thinking about going down that priestly path?" Colben asked, coughing. "Have you even cast a spell from that fancy book of yours?"
"I'm working on it," Balthar nervously answered. "It just takes time."
"Until you can, you might be best off with this," Salin handed the boy his quarterstaff. "Just in case."
"Just in case?" Balthar muttered. "I don't even know how to fight with such a weapon."
"Swing it at whoever comes your way," Salin grinned. "We'll train with it along with studying the tome Naur gave you."
Balthar smiled, slowly holding onto the metal staff tighter. Dal'bin had to admit that while Salin spent most of his time joking around, he was serious when it came to Balthar's training. With Naur's departure from the Vanguard, the man did not have his first choice as a mentor. The blood knight seemed to be doing a decent enough job of filling in the vindicator's shoes. The two were good friends as well, meaning that they worked well together.
Quartermaster Swiftspear returned with a bundle of robes in his arms. Balthar took the robes and carefully unfolded them. He slipped them on easily enough and fastened a lash to keep them together. Like the elf predicted, they were a size too large on him, with his arms covered by the sleeves and the hems of it dragging down on the ground. If he was going to be able to walk across the marshes, he would need to change his wardrobe somehow. Colben practically pushed Balthar out of the way and stepped up to the quartermaster.
"I'm skipping right to the chase," Colben bluntly told him. "We need a way to communicate with each other when we're separated."
"I think I know what you're looking for," Quartermaster Swiftspear rushed to the back of his tent.
"It's good to see that you're thinking about the team, Colben," Kelvin complimented. "Communication will be key for our survival, regardless of where we go."
"Aye," Colben nodded. "Don't think the druids have any gnomercorders though."
"We have something even better!" Quartermaster Swiftspear claimed, returning with a small box with engraved stones. "To use these, just say 'message' to speak, then speak 'end' to stop."
"And they work?" Colben took the box.
"They work," Quartermaster Swiftspear confirmed.
"For your sake, I hope you're right," Colben stepped out of line.
"Uh, and how can I help you, my short friend?" Quartermaster Swiftspear wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.
"I will require any scrap metal you have," Kelvin dutifully told him then stepped out of line. "Send it to our lodging. Thank you, and have a good day."
Kelvin stepped aside, and joined the rest of his companions, who now made their way to rejoin Oliktalv and Belara. Dal'bin had no clue what the sly gnome had in mine with the scrap metal. Perhaps he was trying to make more bullets for his flintlock. The scout thought about asking for rifle bullets, but was unsure of how great of quality they would be. The gnome was more of a deep thinker than an engineer, but that did not rule out what he was capable of.
The Cenarion Expedition gave the Vanguard a small lodging on the outskirts of the Cenarion Refuge. It was there, after a short walk, that they returned to join with their comrades, who waited outside of the building. Much to Dal'bin's surprise, Finnal was back, out of breath and exhausted. She must have flown extra fast to check on Naur and come back. However, based on her dire expression, there was no good news. Additionally, Oliktalv and Belara both glared at Colben, who scratched his head in confusion.
"Finnal!" Balthar exclaimed, rushing to her. "Is Naur coming? Is he on his way?"
"I hate to tell you this, but he isn't," Finnal told him with a sigh. "He was fortunate enough to escape Alliance custody, but Force Commander Trollbane is devoting resources to capture him. He was last seen fleeing south, towards Terrokar Forest, in hot pursuit."
"We cannot risk ourselves to save him," Kelvin declared. "He knows his way around this world better than any of us."
"I suppose we'll have to hope he makes it," Balthar frowned, looking down at the ground.
"Cheer up, my brother," Salin grasped Balthar's shoulder. "Have faith that Naur will emerge from his chase safe and sound."
"So, what's wrong with you two," Colben motioned towards Oliktalv and Belara.
"Tell him, Finnal," Oliktalv commanded, stepping closer to Colben.
"When I eavesdropped on the Force Commander, he was meeting with a bounty hunter," Finnal explained. "She's after you, Colben."
"Have anything to say for yourself, Sampson?" Belara asked harshly, crossing her arms.
All eyes were on Colben, some with worry, but mostly with anger. Dal'bin was not surprised that someone was after the veteran. He was the kind of man who would anger someone and not make any attempt to fix it. The warrior took a moment to think to himself, then burst out into uncontrollable laughter. His comrades looked at him, confused by his actions, except for Kelvin, who sighed and shook his head. Finally, he stopped laughing, and grinned towards his companions.
"Nothing to worry about," Colben assured them. "I can't even remember who I pissed off. Anyways, if that bounty hunter comes after us, I'll take care of them. It's my problem."
"If you say so," Oliktalv grunted. "For lodging, there are three rooms, each with two beds. Belara and Colben, since you two do not need to sleep, you won't be getting a room."
"Agreed," Belara nodded.
"If you say so," Colben shrugged.
"That leaves six of us to decide on rooms," Oliktalv continued his explanation. "Dal'bin, you're with me."
"Got it, mon," Dal'bin agreed.
"Balthar, it is best if we lodge together if you wish for more time to study," Salin declared.
"I suppose so," Balthar hesitantly replied.
"So, I'm left with Kelvin then?" Finnal asked, trying to hold back a sigh.
"Is there any extra space?" Kelvin quickly asked without emotion.
"There is," Oliktalv answered.
"I shall take that," Kelvin told everyone. "I will need time to work on my new device."
"I need ta make my spear," Dal'bin joined in.
"For now, we're resting up," Oliktalv reminded everyone. "Tomorrow, we vote on our course of action. Everyone is dismissed to settle in."
The vast majority of the Vanguard stepped into their residence in Cenarion Refuge to settle in. Only Dal'bin, Belara, and Colben remained outside. The two walking corpses made their separate ways, leaving the troll to himself. With nothing else to do, the scout decided it was best to find somewhere quiet to relax and work on his spear. With that in mind, he walked away from the lodge, looking for somewhere safe to sit down and get to work.
A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Fell sick and found it to be a bit challenging to get back onto the writing track. Plans are set into motion to make up for my absence.
Until next time.