As he walked the decrepit halls of his past home, Relegh couldn’t help be feel a sense of nostalgia. This had once been a powerful city full of bright young warriors and other such soldiers. They had so much potential, but it was all thrown to the fire when Ragnaros’ burning army rose from the molten core. Clan Ironember had produced generation after generation of skilled soldiers, but now Relegh was all that remained of that once proud heritage. He’d even lost his wife and children. But none of that mattered anymore, of course, because the Alliance was offering them a chance to repay the world for their ‘past sins.’ As if the dark irons needed anyone to forgive their mistakes.
He pushed these thoughts away as the entrance to the Grim Guzzler grew closer. He had a job to do. He stepped passed a pair of Alliance guards, earning himself some wary looks. Even now, with the seat of the dark iron kingdom infested with humans, elves, and the ancestors knew what else, the Alliance still feared the power the dark irons wielded.
Relegh took silent satisfaction from the power of his presence. Entering the tavern, a wave of merry noises blew past him like the hot wind of a forge. Though the city had been besieged and sacked, the Grim Guzzler had never run out of ale, and therefore, there were always customers. It was a grimmer sight than it had once been; fewer patrons wished to make the trip back to the decrepit city these days, and even fewer still lived in the ruins. Yet there were plenty of dwarves stubborn enough to have stuck around. Relegh was here to see one in particular.
A shady table in the corner is where Relegh found Hendry Kegfist. The young upstart was the son of Relegh’s oldest dead friend. He had more of a fire in his eyes than any dwarf Relegh had ever seen, but a tendency to make rash decisions. Sure, that made it easy to manipulate him, but the young man’s foolish actions ever frustrated Relegh. He took a seat across from Hendry, giving the kid a curt greeting.
“Took you long enough, old man. I was just about to run out of ale again,” he turned to a nearby hostess, “Another round, this time for two!”
Relegh frowned deeply and slapped Hendry upside the head. “You’re a daft boy, you know that? I told you not to draw attention to yourself.”
Hendry rubbed his head and frowned back at Relegh. “It’s not my fault, the barkeeps recognized me! I had to get a round, at least.”
“And how many have ye had?”
The boy grinned like a dumb jackal. “About five.” Relegh hit him again. “Ow! Yer hands are like cold iron, old man!”
Relegh chugged an ale that was placed in front of him. “But my temper is as hot as the Shadowforge. Next time, you do as I ask, no excuses.”
Hendry nodded, still clenching his head in pain. “Gotcha, gotcha. Now, why did you call me here in the first place? Is it…is it about mum?”
Relegh sighed. Hendry understandably wanted to know more about what happened to his mother after the siege. She was among those that surrendered during the sacking and were taken prisoner. The Alliance’s stockades in Stormwind were notoriously unsafe. No one seemed to know what happened to Hilda Kegfist. “Sorry lad, not this time. I needed to ask a favor. Yer dad’s troops, or what remains of them, I need to take command of them.”
Hendry looked puzzled. “What’s this fer? Ye headin’ out ta that portal I keep hearin’ about?”
Relegh shook his head. “No, I need them to help an old friend of mine. We used to work together, long before you were born. Now he needs some protection, and you have the numbers for it. Whaddya say, boy? Help an old man out?”
Hendry took a long swig of ale, finishing his mug and slamming it on the table. He exhaled deeply, and looked Relegh in the eyes. “O’ course I’ll help ye, old man! Ye’ve been like a dad ta me since me own passed. But I want part o’ the action!”
Relegh smiled, a gesture he didn’t make often. “Thank ye, boy. I owe you a round now.”
"I am the Night!" -Brinnea, Rikthered, Cynthya, Orgog, Kazarak.....