Trials of Azeroth

Chapter 5

Codin, Fizzbiscuit and Hwinion successfully retreated from the brawl outside and into the Salty Sailor Inn. Compared to outside, it was much more peaceful. A jolly dwarf sat on a table in the corner of the Inn playing a jovial tune on his fiddle, with two drunk bouncers happily dancing a jig below him. A dozen patrons of as many races sat around having semi-civilized conversations with each other. An orc lay passed out in the middle of the floor, with a human lying passed out on top of him. The aroma of cheap alcohol filled the air.
'Perfect.' Thought the Warrior

With Hwinion off to get drinks, Codin and Fizzbiscuit sat down in a discreet table in the corner of the room, and began to introduce themselves formally.
"Well, not the best circumstances to meet under, eh? Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Codin. Codin Brackbyrne." Laughed the warrior.
"A pleasure to meet you, Codin. I'm Fizzbiscuit. I trust my ex-colleague has informed you why I've been given such a name." Smiled the Mage.
"He has indeed."

Meanwhile, Hwinion had made his way over to the bar, sat down on an old, rickety stool (as all the new ones had been utilised one too many bar fights) and began to order the drinks. He hollered out to the seemingly empty bar.
"Bartender?"
A small goblin dressed in a waistcoat and smoking a pipe hopped up onto his stool and gave the elf a grin with his near toothless smile.
"What can I get ya, pal?" He asked.
"Two dwarven stouts and a glass of Pinot noir, please."
"Pinot noir, what's that?" He asked, with a befuddled look on his face.
"Wine." Replied Hwinion, unimpressed.
"Oh, ok. Coming right up, buddy." Replied the goblin, hopping down off from his stool and starting to prepare the drinks. Just then, a huge, burly Orc sat down next to the elf. Hwinion immediately began to sweat, turning slowly to his right, looking right at the face of his compatriot.
"Good day." He greeted, awkwardly.
"Y'alright?" Replied the Orc.

"So how did you end up in this fine town of Booty Bay?" Asked Codin.
"Well, about 3 months ago, I made my way down here in order to study the Blackwater Raiders, the crime gang that operate in this area of Stranglethorn Vale. I was making real progress in my research, but about 2 months in, all my gold was stolen. So, as you saw just before, I've been competing against these ignoramus' for the necessary money to get out of this place and go home." Explained Fizzbiscuit.
"So you haven't enjoyed your stay?" Laughed Codin.
"Well, it's been... Odd." Replied Fizzbiscuit, gesturing to the passed out Orc and human still lying on the floor.
"Hahaha. So, you study crime and was once a private bailiff with Hwinion, is that correct?"
"It is indeed."
"Right. Well, if you don't mind, I've got a question to ask."
"Ask away, my dear fellow." Giggled the Mage.
"Do you have any knowledge on any crime syndicates that associate themselves with purple bandanas. Sometimes work with the Defias?" Asked Codin. Fizzbiscuit sat back and and played with his grey beard.
"Hmmmm... Purple, you say?"
"Yes, purple."
"Hmmm. It sounds like you're talking about the Stoneraven Syndicate, there, friend." Stated Fizzbiscuit.
"The Stoneravens? Never heard of them."
"I'm not surprised. Unlike the Defias, who post their untrained, unwashed thugs anywhere they can, the Stoneraven Syndicate operates under a much stricter set of rules. They go unnoticed by the general public, making their fortune in arming and organising smaller crime groups that do the heavy lifting. It's said that they have ties to the head leadership of both the Defias and the Steamwheedle Cartel. It's also rumoured that they occasionally fund the Bleeding Hollow and Burning Blade clans and other horde battalions to conduct raids on alliance outposts threatening their security. Though they may be small in size, their wealth and influence makes them more than just your average petty theft ring." Explained the Mage.
"I see, so do you have any idea where they are holed up at?" Asked Codin.
"No, sadly. But, a while ago, I did hear something about there being a small branch working directly with the horde at Tarren Mill, in the Hillsbrad Foothills. Apparently they've been quite the nuisance for the alliance guards at Southshore."
The conversation continued for another 20 minutes or so, with Codin trying to retain as much information as possible.
"Hmmm, interesting. Well, thank you Fizzbiscuit. I should have enough to go off of now. Me and Hwinion should be getting on our-" Suddenly, they were interrupted by a commotion across, the room at the bar. "Hwinion!"

Next to the bar, it appeared that some kind of high stakes 'dance off' had broken out. The dwarf and his fiddle had fired up once more and Hwinion was busy dancing aggressively towards his opponent, the Orc from the bar. It was clear that they were both quite intoxicated. It was also quite clear that the elf was winning. His feet glided gracefully and swiftly as he literally began to dance rings around his opponent, who was simply too slow to keep up with the high quality display.
"I never knew the elf could dance." Said Codin, bluntly, somewhat amazed at what was unfolding before his eyes.
"Yes, he can. Quite efficiently, actually. I'm surprised he didn't tell you."
"Well, he's not the most talkative person, is he?"

After Hwinion had finished his opponent on the 'dance floor', the two sat down to the sound of applause as they bought each other drinks, with newfound respect in their hearts. Codin and Fizzbiscuit walked over to sadly interrupt the two new friends.
"Alright, time to go now, Hwinion. We've got our answers. Let's go!" Stated Codin.
"Come on, jusss one more drink." Slurred the elf. His breath reeked of alcohol.
"No, come on, pal. Time to go." Replied Codin, as if he was talking to a child.
"Ok..." Sighed Hwinion, as he got up out of his seat. "Nice dancing with you, Garrok." He said, waving goodbye to the Orc.
"You too, elf. Seeya." Replied Garrok, belching and reaching for another pint.

The trio then walked out of the Inn and into the 'fresh' air of Booty Bay. The evening sun shone over the bay, golden rays shimmering across the water. Parrots swooped over head and headed over to the giant statue of Baron Revilgaz the goblin, located on a small island out across the bay.
"Looks like it's shaping out to be a nice evening." Smiled Codin, stepping over the knocked out bodies of those who fell during the great brawl.
After a while, and after Hwinion vomited over the side of the railing and onto the walkway below, they made it back to the griffon roost. They then saddled up Hwinion onto his griffon and payed the flight master for his fare. Just before he was about to mount up himself, Codin turned and looked down to the Mage, Fizzbiscuit, who was seeming a bit down that the only people in this place that were classified as friends were about to leave. Codin felt sorry for him, so without a word he tossed the gnome a dozen silver pieces.
"That should cover your fare." He grinned. Fizzbiscuit looked up to the warrior, a grateful, innocent smile growing wide on his face.
"Come on." Laughed Codin, as he mounted up, flicking the flight master a gold piece.
"Keep the change, mate." He smiled.
"Thank you kindly, friend." Thanked the dwarf.
"Alright chaps, next stop: Southshore!" He laughed as the 3 griffons took to flight.
"Gods, I hate flying." Groaned Hwinion, before vomiting once more onto the unsuspecting town below. God knows where it would land!