Layover at Valgarde Inn

The salt air was bracing.  It felt cool and stung wherever it touched an abrasion, of which he had many.  Being comfortable was not part of the profession though, so he bore it as all the others on the deck did, with a stoic nonchalance.  The worst of the wounds he had acquired from a run-in with the Scarlet Onslaught.  Poisoned daggers slash not deep but very corrosive.  He had to have Xo look at it to determine the treatment.  He was familiar with poisons as a druid and could make a good many, but he was far from an expert.  Xolydian, however, knew most blade poisons intimately.  Xo looked a bit concerned, and then grabbed a handful of baking soda and some leaves known for their astringent qualities and made a poultice.  He then cleaned the wound with a shot of whiskey, possibly just to see the night elf's reaction; a small twitch of his mustache was all the rogue got for his wastefulness. The elf knew water would have done just as well.  The druid took the bottle of whiskey from the rogue and took a pull from the bottle.  "Well are you gonna slap that stuff on or continue wasting good whiskey?"  Xo laughed..."Night Elves...so impatient...and grumpy."  Orious chuckled as Xo finished bandaging his upper arm.

They were sailing from Stormwind to Howling Fiord to meet the others en route to the Argent Stand in Zul'Drak...more work at soldiers pay for the Argent Dawn.  Orious had worked fairly steadily with the Argents since his deployment to the Plaguelands.  Well there was some time off working for the Aldor and the Consortium while he was stationed in Outlands, but the Argents were old acquaintances and he was on excellent terms with them.  Lacking the chance to raid as adventures so far, steady employment was a good thing and as their numbers were growing, keeping these guys on a steady room and board helped immensely.   Xo had joined them while they were adventuring in Karazhan.  He was a capable fighter and was a flurry of knives when he had a mind to do some damage.  He was also one of the folks the Druid hung around with often.  He enjoyed his humor and his generally good mood.  Talk had begun about starting their own venture. 

Working with Shadow Walkers clan had been a good starting place, but whenever they seemed to be making headway somewhere or if, heaven forbid, the job became lucrative, then off they were sent to another hell-hole at the opposite end of the world.  The Argents were not like that and so Love and Orious had decided to work more outside the clan for the time being.  The clan didn't like losing control of the crew but the Argents were very persuasive and having a detachment in their ranks was a great honor...they didn't take everyone.  Love's crew was now a good 20-30 strong and all of them, Love included, were beginning to long for autonomy.  Maybe they should declare their own destiny and ride out as a new guild.  Well that was the general thought running through all their minds as they headed out for another stint working for the Argents.  Anyway you cut it, War is big business and all soldiers are mercenaries to some extent. Everyone is there for their own reasons...plenty are just there so they can get three squares, and why not?  If your farm is burned by the enemy...you can feast on three squares with a side of revenge at the same time. 

This crew was a group of fighters...they were there for many reasons, but one thing they all had in common, they had all lost loved ones to the Burning Legion or the Scourge. Was there any difference between those two horrors anyhow, their goals were the same so who cared about their differences...the same was true this crew, these friends, they had many reasons but one goal...to free their lands of those that would prey upon their families, or worse. They would make their enemies take notice, and they would make them bleed.  Orious then realized he was pretty proud of this little ragtag group...they had come a long way together and they had a long way to go.

The stopover in Valgarde was brief, just one night in the Inn. The Inn was a good one, one of the best in Northrend, and a few tankards of mead never hurt anyone....until the next morning.  Coot brought them another round just as Assassen rolled into the room.  Ass reached down grabbed Xo's new untouched mead and finished it in one gulp..."Thank ya kindly" he said he held up one finger and grabbed O's tankard too and downed it as well.  The druid was amused and said "Master dwarf, what have you done to earn this unquenchable thirst?"   Ass replied "Ahhh, Is na unquenchable, its jest na quenched yet" and he snagged Merts’ ale as well.  Orious ordered another 3 rounds...best to be prepared for more potables thievery.  Orious asked the dwarf "You still haven't said why you are so shagged out...you're comrades are missing their beer and wanna know what you've been up to...its the price of the drink"  "Ahhh", said Ass, "Well in that case I'll tell ya...Never let it be said that Assassen doesn't earn his drink proper"  "Ya know there be quite a bit of Vykryl incursion on this shore...we just beat back one before I came in here, there were only 30 or so, so I told 'em I could handle it meself"

"That figures" said Xo "you sure there were only 30?" "Well there might have been 4 dozen for all I know" said Ass.  'And you took them all by yourself, eh Ass?" asked the rogue.  "I didna say that, I said I told them I could...anyhow I'll tell ya the story to pay for my drink nabbing ways, but if'n ya keep yammerin' I'll have to consider it paid for in frustration, rogue" the word rogue rolling from Ass in a heave dwarven brogue..

Orious chuckled and bid him continue.  "Well there were probably 4 of us there and we rolled through them like a loaded wagon rolls down a mountain.  Then this brash kid comes up tellin me how I should be tankin these critters an I bowled him over, an it turns out th other 3 are his friends, so I'm obliged to teach them their lessons as well.  this went on fer a bit and then their captain came up and made them haul off...shame really, first good brawl I've had in a fortnight."   "Where are the women?" yelled Ass, "If ya gonna spend the night brawlin ya need women to make a fool of yerself in front of...Its jest no fun without it."

Love and Classy were descending the stairs followed by Brol and Grol.  Love always had a way of looking like she had never seen a battle...her hair was always right, her armor always bright, and Orious was never sure how she managed to make all her armor match...his never did...it was all a hodge podge of whatever worked best.  She must keep tailors and blacksmiths busy in 3 continents.  He still owed Sleepy for his last set of armor...she had taken pity on him, seeing his tattered leather and made him brand new epic-quality gear.  He hadn't even had the mats for them but the girls found mats in their bags and fixed him up right away.

"Good evening gentlemen" she said as she came down.  They all rose from their seats and everyone mumbled a greeting.  They all sat back down and ordered dinner.  This was a good Inn, lots of private dining rooms for entire groups.  Theirs had a fireplace and windows looking out over the bay.  The ship from which they had disembarked was now fully loaded and getting ready to sail home to Stormwind.  The steward called all ashore and ropes were being cast off the pier. 

"Didya get lost again, Love?" asked Ass. "No this isn't Stormwind, I can find my way fine from the docks to the Inn, thank you." said Love, " Besides its Orious' fault I have no sense of direction." Orious looked like a deer caught in the lamplight, so Love told a tale on Orious.  "Not long after we began adventuring together, we were surprised by trio of furlbogs that walked the road as messengers from the winterspring clans to the felwood clans.  They came up on us suddenly and Orious said "I've got this, move out of the way" and he pushed me away so hard that I hit a tree and it knocked me out..."so here is O just going nuts on these furlbogs and I'm asleep under the tree.  When he was done he turned and found me there and woke me up and said how did you get there? Well, I punched him in the face." She laughed “Then I couldn’t help but laugh, he was so clueless and that made it even funnier...so I'm laughing my ass off and he is wondering if I've gone round the corner mentally. But that’s how I lost my sense of direction...its all Orious fault" she said and seeing the look on the druids face, she smiled and ran her hand down the side of his cheek and then stuck her tongue out at him.  The story was true, though the loss of her direction he felt had nothing to do with it all. 

Love ate her meal.  It was good to have a hot meal in a comfortable Inn for a change.  She thought about her tale and smiled.  That incident had taught the druid to be more careful and gentle.  He had spent most of his life either alone, or in the company of men.  If you had grabbed a mans arm and left marks, hell, he would never tell....if you did that to a woman, she would not let you forget it even long after the marks went away.  He learned fairly quickly and yes he did grab her arm once and left marks and she did not let him off the hook for a month, but he did step and fetch for her for a day or two.  She had to admit she liked that and it was worth the finger marks in her forearm.  It was the same kind of situation, surprise attack; he grabbed her and pulled her behind him. 

He knew she was a well decorated paladin and a seasoned fighter, but still in situations where he was panicked, he always treated her like a little girl.  She secretly liked that too. He was a boy scout at heart...a boy scout with fangs and a very big stick...but a boy scout none the less, and really all of them were.  These men were here to do what they felt was their duty to their world, and they were loyal and reasonably obedient to her command...she chuckled...boy scouts with bayonet’s, but they were all sterling people and she was proud of them, and proud to be identified with them.  Their meal was a good one and a long one....it might be many weeks before they returned to a good Inn that actually had a real cook.

The idea about reforging themselves as a guild in their own right was becoming a theme in her unguarded musings.  Perhaps this was the way...but they would have to see...she felt she might know better after this work in Zul'Drak and there was a rumor that Naxx was the next port of call.  She remembered Naxx when it had been stationed high above the Eastern Plaguelands.  It was a place to bring shudders from seasoned veterans.  She was sure it had not improved. The conquest of Naxxaramus would tell whether they had the stuff to go forth into the world without any backing but their own.

After they had finished up their repast, Orious excused himself and walked up the stairs and out onto the balcony.  Love decided to join him.  Without a word he had filled two pipes with tobacco and he passed her one. She rarely smoked where the others could see her, but she did it often enough that Orious carried a little bejeweled pipe that he held only for her.  It was these little things that made him endearing to her.  It wasn't the many battles he'd fought and won, it wasn't his age, or his wisdom or his family connections...it was his kindness, just as for him it was her good humor, kindness and good sense that made him respect her, not how talented a paladin she was...thought she was the best healer he knew. 

They smoked there in silence, settled into two rockers watching the night fall, a respite from the next storm to come, the next foe to fight.  She made some small talk with him; they talked about the next mission, the fishing in Northrend, the possibilities of adventuring Naxx and other things.  They never addressed the elephant on the porch there...they never did.  They both knew it was there but neither of them ever petted it.  They did however always treat each other with respect and kindness...but that was all...there were too many loose ends in her life and for him he felt there were too many souls on his conscience, so the elephant remained unacknowledged, and Orious thought one day he might just give it a name, he hoped it wouldn't be named Regret.