Ironforge, present day
Leodry's eyes snapped open, and although he still lay quietly, his senses were alert for danger. It took him a moment to realize that he was in the inn in Astranaar. A soft chuckle came from behind him and he slowly turned over, wincing from injuries both old and new, to see the inkeeper, Kimlya. She was kneeling nearby, calm and serene. And beautiful, he thought, but quickly quelled any ideas. She's old enough to be my ancestor.
"You took quite a beating, Mister Leodry. You passed out on the ground just outside the inn, much to my dismay. I managed to get you inside and bandaged up. Are you feeling alright? Do I need to fetch a healer?"
Leodry managed a weak smile, shaking his head. "No, Miss Kimlya. I'll be fine. A bump or bruise is nothing new to me, I'm afraid. How long have I been out?"
She smiled wryly. "Only a few hours. Some of those injuries looked bad, but if you feel no healer is needed, I'll accept your wishes. Let me know if you require anything." With that, she left him in peace to rest. He was grateful for her help, and for knowing when to leave well enough alone. Gingerly, he pressed fingers against his ribs, hissing between his teeth when he pressed a bit to hard against one that was most likely broken. Still in one piece... more or less. Could be worse. I could be dead.
Once he knew he wasn't in any terrible danger of dying, no matter how much he ached, he sat up. After the pain subsided again, he stood, slowly, making sure he wasn't about to fall over. Well, then, I guess I ought to get back to work. He made his way down the sloped ramp, passing Kimlya, who looked at him with concern. He waved to her, and passed down to the ground floor of the open building.
A soft breeze blew through, cooling his skin and carrying the scent of rain and green forest. It calmed him, though it was much different than the scents of Ironforge that he knew so well. It's a wonder I ended up here at all, even for this short while. If it hadn't been for Bruuk, I'd no doubt still be a drunkard layabout in the city. He smiled a bit, thinking of the gruff, no-nonsense bartender who kept his tavern in the Military Ward of Ironforge. Bruuk's Corner, a well-attended bar, catered to the warriors and guardsmen of the dwarven capitol. Most of Bruuk's patrons were in full armor, and every one of them knew that in Bruuk's tavern, the furniture was sturdy, the mugs were clean, and you didn't fight. Not unless you wanted a knock to the head from Bruuk's mace that would rival any hangover you'd get from his booze.
The warrior chuckled, whistling for his stallion who had been grazing quietly nearby. He checked his packs, resettling a few things to even the load, and double checked his marching orders from Ironforge. They had arrived the day before, telling him to finish up whatever he was doing in the lush elven lands and then get back to the city for a debriefing and reassignment. Unfortunately, that meant he had to get beaten up by a few more furbolgs before he could return, resulting in his new, painful souvenirs.
It wouldn't take long to get back to the dock at Auberdine where he could take a ship to Stormwind (Gods, how I hate that damn city...) and then the gnomish tram back to Ironforge. He mounted up and turned to the western exit of the little village, saluting the lady Sentinals on each side of the gate as he rode out.
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Ironforge was a dark and busy as ever. Remembering his duties, he led his horse though the city towards the Military Ward. After a very quick debriefing and new orders, he made his way over to the tavern he had been thinking about all afternoon. Bruuk was there, as always, along with his barmaid, Edris. There was a time when Leodry would have sat in the chair closest to the bar, drinking himself into a stupor within a few hours, only to be roughly awoken when Bruuk was closing up for the night.
Bruuk had finally asked him why he bothered coming in at all.
"Ye've a warrior's build, laddy. Ye've even got th' armor an' such, so why're ye in here ev'ry night, drinkin' 'till ye can't see straigh'?"
Leodry had laughed, at first, until he realized that the old bartender was serious. It was the first time since he had left the Hinterlands than anyone had asked anything of him, demanded any kind of responsible answer. That was the first night in a long series of nights that he hadn't drunk himself stupid.
Bruuk noticed him immediately as he came in, gesturing to an empty table near the stairs. Leo sat, wincing again as he did so, and Bruuk brought over a small mug of light ale. Sitting across from him, he placed the mug down.
"Well, lad? What've ye been up te?" He asked, leaning back in the sturdy, oaken chair.
Leodry smiled, gratefully taking a long drink from the mug. It was simple stuff, not strong at all, just enough to relax the mind a bit. "This and that, Bruuk. I've actually just come off a short stint in the elvish lands in Kalimdor. Beautiful sights there, let me tell you," he explained, making a slight curved motion with is free hand to let the bartender know he wasn't exactly talking about the landscape.
The old dwarf chuckled heartily. "Aye, laddy, I imagine tha's th' case," he said, winking. "Good te see yer doin' well. Or," he paused, noticing the bandages Leodry was sporting, along with the slight wince that he couldn't hide in time, finally continuing, "at least, better than ye were. Didn' think elves hit tha' hard, lad."
The two of them laughed and talked a bit more, before Leodry finally said his farewells, making his way through the city to the inn. Two days of rest, and then back to work. Two days to repair my armor, clean my tack, re-supply, and heal up. Maybe, just maybe, I'll find time to write a letter to Maura... With those thoughts on his mind, he rode through the city, weary but content again, knowing he was where he was meant to be.
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