Oh, my Aching Head …
The feel of the salt water soaking his beard finally woke Ringo up. He had passed out beneath a wooden boardwalk. Small red crabs crawled over his thick forearms.
“How much did I have last night? And wasn’t I in Stormwind? How did I end up in Booty Bay?”
Pulling himself up, he brushed the mud off his overalls, dislodging a now-dead fish that had somehow come to rest inside his clothes. Shading his eyes from the cruel sun with one hand, he grabbed a thick knot of vines with the other and pulled himself with a groan up onto the boardwalk of Booty Bay, ignoring the smirking goblin guards as he staggered towards the griffon master’s station.
I did not want to fumble around for a clean robe so I grabbed Ringo’s overalls and undershirt on the chair next to me bed and ran to the entrance of Ironforge where the great tree was. Sure enough, there was a crowd milling around — humans, gnomes, and night elves shaking the presents, trying to figure out which one they wanted. One of the goblins told me I could take up to five presents so I elbowed me way through, accidentally stepping on a few fingers, and snatched the prettiest boxes I could find.
It’s that time of the year — one of celebration, feasting, and gift exchanging. The Winter Veil is upon us once more!