“BELI! You may have already WON a million gold! Details inside!�
I scoffed as I sorted through the mail, tossing the junk letters into the burning fire. Frostmaw, who had been snoozing on the rug near the fireplace, gave me an irritated growl as a misaimed envelope tripped over his head. I crouched down, patting him as I inspected the last envelope in my hand. It was a red envelope with no return address at it, addressed to me in fancy gold lettering.
Handing over the last of the armor scraps to Murgot Deepforge, I rubbed me eyes and looked to smoke filled sky that covered Alterac Valley.
“Thanks, Beli! These supplies will help our troops!” The shaggy haired dwarf commended, hauling off the armor scraps to the forge.
For many months now, I had often traveled to the heart of Alterac Mountains and lent a supportive hand to the Dwarven Stormpike Expedition in their ongoing land conflict with the Frostwolf Orcs. Because of the constant onslaught from the orcs, the Stormpike search for natural resources and ancient relics were greatly impeded.
The hour was late and I was in need of rest. I knew someone would arrive to replace me so I reached into me backpack and rubbed me hearthstone. The stone briefly glowed with a green aura and with a rumble of thunder, light enveloped me and portaled me back to Ironforge, me home sweet home.
After reviewing me duty papers signed by Captain Blackanvil, Windcaller Kaldon wrinkled his nose and flipped through his clipboard.
“The Ironforge Brigade has been a worthy ally in our fight in Silithus,” the fur-fringed night elf noted. He then raised an overgrown eyebrow, “Unfortunately, many of their supplies were lost on their way here.”
I tried to cock an eyebrow back at him, but it was a skill that eluded me.
Once the wielder of the Scepter of the Shifting Sands rang the gong to open the gate, chaos broke out across Kalimdor.
Guumbah had reminded Ringo that we needed to pay our respects in Moonglade and celebrate the defeat of the demi-god, Omen, at the annual Lunar Festival. Just in case Ringo needed more convincing, Clou also pointed out that the soliders abroad were returning home specifically to celebrate and be with loved ones once again. I had done me best to look disappointed when Ringo glanced at me, but I don’t think he bought it.
There were fireworks, booze, and booty shaking in Nighthaven. Me face had grown flush from the excitement as I elbowed through the crowd towards Ringo. I accidentally burped in his face and spilled me moonglow on his suit. I found this hysterically funny.