Stormwind was dreadfully busy. I was so used to living out in Redridge, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get used to the hustle of the city. I had my hand over my pocket the entire time I was there to keep pickpockets from snatching what coin I’d brought with me, and I constantly had to look over my shoulder to make sure little Aaia didn’t get swept away with the crowd. Old Town was particularly nasty, as not only was I constantly getting bumped into, but I noticed a lot of seedy looking folk hanging along the edges of the street. One particularly odd thing I noticed was that everyone seemed to be armed. I shrugged it off and continued along my way.
On the far side of the street, I noticed a crowd had gathered to watch something. Slipping through the crowd as best I could, I came to see a couple of men with their hands bound behind their backs. A pair of guards was on the scene, doing their best to deal with the crowd clamouring about ‘rights’ and ‘abuse’. Nobody seemed to care what the men had done or why they’d done it – it seemed like they just wanted an excuse to whine at the guards. I shook my head and backed off.
Guards really have a rough job, I thought. There’s one job I’ll never do.
With more pushing and shoving, and with a little bit of luck, I finally made it out of Old Town. The route along the canals was a little quieter, but the pollution of the canals sort of took away from it. It looked like someone had just walked over and dumped a big box of garbage into the water, and I’m certain I saw a hand floating in there…
… Then I came to the Dwarven District. All the smoke and dust left me coughing like a sick old lady, which of course had craftsmen looking at me as if I were some sort of moron. I offered them the sort of awkward smile you give someone when you’re trying to pass something off as normal. Of course that just made them look at me even more. I rushed around the corner, quietly cursing myself, before stopping to figure out if I was even going in the right direction. I slipped a folded advertisement I’d ripped off of a board near the bank out of my vest pocket, looking it over briefly.
Adventure, excitement, booze, etcetera. It was a really standard ad for a bunch of sellswords, so I honestly wasn’t expecting much, but it was my only real lead in this city. Everyone else seemed to have requirements so ridiculous and arbitrary there’s no way someone like me could hope to find work. They were recruiting out of a little tavern called the Golden Keg. I could see a tavern sign just by the fountain ahead of me, so I stuffed the ad away again and made my way to it. Sure enough, it was the Keg.
Straightening out my vest to make myself look a bit more presentable (for what good it would do – people in Stormwind made me look like a beggar), I made my way up the steps into the tavern. When I passed through those doors, I was hit by a blast of hot air. The tavern was warm and inviting, and the sounds of laughter and cheerful discussion came from every corner.
This definitely beats that little inn in Lakeshire.
Heading a little farther in, I scanned around to find the ones I was supposed to speak with. It took me a minute given the crowd, but I found them. There was a bartender swatting at a mouse with a broom, and a doctor stitching up the wounds of a fearsome worgen rebel. I didn’t know it at the time, but those were the people that’d soon become treasured friends – maybe even a new family.
For the first time in recent memory, things were about to go right for me.
