#rightforge

“... and furthermore, don’t ye think ye do enough as it is? Ye don’t even sleep some nights, just stagger around the city like a youth-”

Rhu rubbed a single, large hand down his face- pulling his skin down with frustration. He didn’t meet the intense eye contact of his ex wife working the bar; no, instead he stared at the kegs and wished they were all emptied by his own work. “Woman, I’ve had enough of yer ramblin’ fer one night. Are ye gonna get me that refill or try an’ refill my ears?”

She stopped and set a wine glass a bit too roughly on the counter, cracking it along the base. “Don’t you call me ‘woman,’ you old drunk bastard. Not while yer livin’ in my attic. If I want t’ ramble I’ll ramble, Light stop me...” She looked down and sighed, wiping the counter around the glass. “Ye know I ramble because I care about ye, right?”

He looked up and nodded slowly, and not without wobble. “Of course I do, Murtheda. But I don’t need ye tellin’ me not t’ do this. This is an important one.”

“She’s a blood elf, Rhu. A blood elf.” Her wiping got a bit more rough. “Don’t ye have a brain in that skull o’ yours? You’ll get yerself killed workin’ with one o’ them.”

“It’s the brain in this skull tellin’ me t’ do it.” His eyebrows came together, making a bushy mess. “And it’s the Light that lets me know it’s right. I might not talk to it like a brother but I know when I’ve got t’ do somethin’. I know damn well she’s a blood elf and I know she isn’t part of th’ Alliance. But I don’t care. The Light don’t care for this faction war and if it don’t, I don’t.”

Murtheda stopped wiping the counter and looked up to him, a bit surprised. “I haven’t seen this conviction in ye since ye fought at the Wrathgate.”

He simply pushed his empty mug forward and stood up. “It’s not conviction, it’s intuition. I don’t know th’ girl but I can tell she’s not here because of her own choice. Th’ Light wants her here, so I’ve got t’ trust it’s for a reason.” 

“Can ye handle another student, Rhu?” She still pressed on. “Can ye handle losin’ another one? Or havin’ another disappointment?”

Rhu tossed his hammer onto his shoulder. “She’s got a good head on her shoulders, that one. If this don’t work, the disappointment won’t be her.” With that, the paladin was out of the tavern and back into the streets of Ironforge.

With a sigh, Murtheda took and began cleaning his mug. “If this doesn’t work, I bet it’ll kill ‘im.”

”I’ve had enough o’ this. Fer once can’t I end th’ day smellin’ like beer instead o’ death?”

Muscular, but not too youthful, dwarven paladin Rhu slashed through the hordes of undead with the patience of an angered mule. His massive battlehammer flew weightlessly and leaked Light from its vents all the while.

“Every day I tell meself I’ll get a pint and kick back. Maybe watch the sunset over th’ mountains, maybe find meself a woman t’ bunker down with.”

It never seemed to work in his favor. His mustache and beard swung with his movements, tightly braided, and as grey as his armor. Plated boots crushed the dirt and pebbles below. The armor that covered his battle-worn body was once resilient and glowing with the power of the Light; now, it was scratched, bloodied and smelled like a dug-up graveyard.

An abomination came up from behind, laughing stupidly as they generally did. Rhu’s bushy black eyebrows came together with a twitch of his mustache.

“I don’t wanna deal with ye, so take this as yer chance t’ leave.” He commented calmly, squishing a smaller zombie under his hammer without much work. “If ye go now, I’ll-”

The abomination responded by slamming a fist into Rhu, and sending the stout man flying through the stone wall of an abandoned home.

He sat up and watched as blood dripped from his nose. In a second, the Light seeping from his hammer vanished and Rhu was charging towards the abomination.

“Tonight, I’ll be drinkin’ my ale and thinkin’ of you! I won’t drink t’ yer honor, I won’t drink t’ yer maker...” With a leap, he brought the hammer down to the Abomination’s head. The monstrocity swung back and lost an arm, but didn’t give up.

“... But I’ll drink t’ th’ Scourge! I’ll drink t’ th’ battle, th’ war... I’ll drink t’ th’ death that plagues these lands.” With another downward slam, he bashed the abomination’s head down into its torso. It fell to the ground in a messy puddle of it’s own secretions.