I sat in the shadows for a while. I finally composed myself, I grabbed a few more things that had survived and headed back.
My ride had been waiting patiently just sitting still and listening to nature or somethin’. His name was ‘Ikni-chee’ but I called him Grimfeather. A while back I helped him out and he owed me a few favors. He had canoed us to the island in a few hours instead of days; something to do with being ‘connected with nature’.” Grimfeather was just sitting on the ground with a bowl of incense and some feathers when I came through the scrub. He looked up at me with those big sad eyes of his and said seriously, “You found your father.”
“How’d you know?”, i asked. ‘Feather was a druid, not a magician so i was curious how he pulled this off.
“ALL things are connected, Heyoka”, (he calls me Heyoka; its supposed to be Tauren for magic user) and he closed his eyes. “Shadow, life, mana, the elements – all connected like the strands of the spider’s web. I try to explain to you they are woven together, but all you see is the spider, not the web.” The Tauren opened his eyes and said almost snorting, “You are ready to leave you have made your peace.”
“Yeah, lets get outta here; nothing left to stick around for.”
As the Grimfeather made an offering to the sea and gave thanks to Mother Earth, he quietly prayed as he paddled the canoe. The waters calmed before the canoes and it slipped across the waves swiftly with a gentle splash. Grimsparkle looked back as the island; he watched it fade into the grey unremarkable mists of cloud and wave like his memories of happier times.
The docks at Ogrimmar had been bustling with new refugees. When I had left for Northrend, goblins had some respect; but now we had worn out our welcome in Ogrimmar. They called us the “green menace” in whispers, blaming us for any kind of trouble in the city that they could. The refugees had been pushed into the dumps of the capital as a temporary fix. Only goblin engineering helped us turn it into a mildly toxic home away from home. Grimfeather had to return to Mulgore and I tried to sort everything out. Turned out to be a rude surprise; from the dockmaster’s greeting, “What’s this?! More sea scum? Feh, you won’t last long here…” to being turned out at the inns, “Go stay with your own kind; I’m sure they can cut you a deal copper-pincher”. I struggled to get by with some cousins who were selling scrap and trying to get back on their feet. I was deep in thought trying to work out how they could make a decent profit on some salvage work when – OOOF!
I was so lost in thinking about things, I wandered right into the middle of the road, and in front of a procession of hawkstriders. The beast reared up almost throwing his rider and causing the rest of the group to halt abruptly. “Find your way beggar! We are on important business from Silvermoon.”, the blood elf shouted.
“Yeah? Well, I didn’t see your name on the street pal? Go farkle yourself!”, I shouted back at him. I figured that was an appropriate greeting in Ogrimmar.
The elf rode over and somersaulted off the hawkstrider kicking me back. The clasp holding my embersilk cloak popped off and jingled down the dirt road. A pulled myself up only to see a drawn sword at my throat. “Knave. Have you come to rob us? You will find us difficult prey indeed; perhaps it is time to-”
“Hold your blade Taelin”, a firm but strong voice interrupted followed by the growl of a lion. Another blood elf, stepped from beside the others. Her shimmering mail and earthen colored cloak fluttered as she walked toward them.
“My lady, this beggar is not worth your attentions; please allow me to remove this trash from the road so that we can proceed.”, Taelin pleaded.
“This”, she said holding up the broach token that had fallen, “this is…yours?”
“Yes ma’am. It…it belonged to my father’s..my father’s business. It’s all I have left. Could, could I have it back please… it meant a lot”, I said.
“My lady, this goblin is-“, Taelin protested not sure if this was some cruel foreplay of combat which he lacked the patience for. He was an elf of action and one not to hesitate.
“A goblin of honor and deserving of our consideration,” she said warmly as she handed it back to the goblin warlock still dusting himself off. As he took it, he looked at her in appreciation and then astonishment, “Zuel?”