Orgrimmar wasn’t particularly known for its wet weather. When it did rain, however, it poured heaping buckets of cold, drenching slop. What roads there were turned into useless puddles of mud. Many of the leaky rooftops, some even capable of withstanding cannon fire, were not prepared against an onslaught of the elements – particularly with such extensive repairs going underway near constantly.
Rainstorms tended to be in short supply in Orgrimmar. Misery was not.
The far reaches of Northrend seemed almost like a different world, but that didn't save Sheva from feeling the earth shudder beneath her feet. Something was wrong, horribly wrong, and she could feel it down to her core.
Stopping in a nearby outpost she spent the day waiting to catch up on any news from down south. Sure enough word began to trickle in about the shattering of Azeroth and her sense of unease grew to full-fledged fear. What if Kowits had left Northrend? What if he had returned home?
"I'm sorry but I have no sword to give you. It was meant for the one who would free me from this prison with the use of an ember of fireblaze. Alas, I gave it to a troll who blasted his way through here with an excitable raptor. One of his errant fireballs broke the spell, but only temporarily. I hadn't realized it immediately and when I did, it was too late. He was already gone with my sword. Lucky for me you have come along with the ember to free m...."
"There's only one redeeming quality about this fel-forsaken cespool, Shona."
Vengance Landing only barely made it onto the list of places Sheva would willingly visit more than once because it was the last place she had seen Kowits. It felt like as good a place as any to start her search, see what she could turn up. As luck would have it she got a lead...
was where Janosis was going. But first, he'd need to be prepared! No showing up in inappropriate-for-weather-clothes-while-completely-broke for him THIS time! Today was going to be his best day ever. And that meant making sure he had:
A warm set of robes, gloves, and a hat.
A well secured coinpurse with the gold he'd earned working for Miss Lee at A Hero's Welcome. (though by work, he actually meant being yelled at to fill an order and getting tipped by well meaning hungry people)
Time seems to stop having meaning when you wallow in things like Ratchet, and rum. I suppose it’d been months since I’d seen anything outside that town, the only change are the people coming and going. For a while I cared about the crowds, hoping that by some miracle just one of them would hold the face I felt desperate to see. Time also seems to be the biggest hope killer of all.
Hours turned into days that grew into weeks which faded into months until time seemed to loose all importance. Each day was the same with little in the way of stimulation to break up the monotony of ever forward marching time.
My mother, the human one, always said that Ladies shouldn't fish (along with many other things they apparently shouldn't do.) If I did get my hands on any gear, and she caught me, then it earned a rap over my knuckles with her wand. Trying to practice casting, for so long I could still feel those blows, and it made my progress difficult.
“So, what you’re telling me is that love is a sword that drops from the hand of the enemy?”
Sheva was so lost but she curiously eyed the tauren warrior’s monstrosity of a glowy weapon, his prized possession, all the same. “That’s nice, but I don’t think I could love it. At least not like that… I don’t know, I don’t really know what love is.”
He smiled and shook his head, “There are many different kinds of love. For instance, I love women in an entirely different manner than I love my sword.”