I've always found a bit of a kinship with Dwarves. On Kul Tiras, they were a fairly common site, most having taken up residence in Drisburg and mirrored my own love of ale. Following the death of my parents, I found myself often depending on the charity of a few Dwarves in Boralus, one of which being a trinketer named Boldiam. I was, essentially, his muscle; I would carry raw materials to his shop, help him haul his goods to market, and he would give me a modest fee. It was one of the more honest jobs I took up while living on the streets. Boldiam taught me to identify different metals from look and feel, as well as how to best cut precious gems. I worked with him for a year or so, before he, like so many others, decided to leave Kul Tiras behind and return to Dun Morogh. I often wonder what would have happened had he stayed? Would I have continued doing that honest work, and perhaps never caught the attention of Master Ramsay? Would I not have come to Stormwind? It's hard to say, but I cannot be unhappy about where I am because of it.
Recently, I travelled to Ironforge to see if I could find Boldiam. I asked the guards about him, and was told there was a trinketer named Boldiam who had once had a shop in Ironforge after returning from Kul Tiras a few years back, but he had gone missing during the previous year's brewfest, during a Dark Iron attack. This had my interest, as Dark Iron Dwarves had made their base of operations within Blackrock Mountain, and Saares, the escaped mage, had some correspondence with someone out of Blackrock. An odd coincidence perhaps? Or perhaps something more? I decided I was going to have to find out, but I'd need a little assistance to make that happen.
Azeroth is a fascinating place, with magical devices beyond belief. I knew that there was likely a spell that could change my appearance to mimic that of a Dark Iron Dwarf, and I gathered that if anyone knew such a thing, it would be Jon Greyhawk, one of my Agents. Greyhawk had indeed heard of such a spell, but did not have access to the spell itself, instead informing me that there was a brew that could be obtained from a Brewmaster in the Grim Guzzler tavern that would do the trick. I questioned whether going to the Grim Guzzler without a disguise was a good idea, but Greyhawk informed me that the Guzzler was hope to all manner of shady character, and none would worry too much about a human, should I have the coin. Beyond the Guzzler and in the Dark Iron city, however, would be different. Greyhawk provided me with a folder of important information on the Dark Irons, and I went to the Shady Serpent to do some research with a cold mug of ale before setting off to Blackrock Mountain.
Dark Iron Dwarves were one of the three clans, led by Sorceror Thane Thaurissan. With his consort, they waged war against both Ironforge and Grim Batol from their city in what was then the northern portion of the Redridge Mountains. Eventually the forces of the Bronzebeard and Wildhammer Clans brought the battle to Thaurissan, who turned to the elemental lord Ragnaros for assistance. The summoning of Ragnaros shattered the Redridge Mountains and created Blackrock Mountain, and led to the death of Thaurissan. Ragnaros then enslaved most of the Dark Irons and keeps them to this day within Blackrock Mountain. The Dark Irons established Shadowforge City in Blackrock, and that is where the Grim Guzzler is located. The Guzzler acts as the entranceway to most of Shadowforge City, and is guarded by a Reaver. Getting into the inner city would take a fight, a disguise or some help. Possibly all three. Dark Irons speak both Common and Dwarven, though some are taught the language Kalimag by their fiery overlords.
The Dark Irons show their reverence to Ragnaros, the Fire Lord, and this is something I can somewhat understand. Their lives are surrounded by fire, and being respectful to that is important. It's similar to why sailors out of Kul Tiras often show respect for Neptulon the Tidehunter. We do not think he's a good master, nor do we obey him, but we do know that with so much of our life surrounded by water and depending on water, we should show proper respect to it's master. Dark Irons, however, seem to have taken it a little further, wishing to bring Ragnaros back. They maybe enslaved by Ragnaros, but seem to gladly serve him in servitude.
With my mind packed with as much intelligence on the Dark Iron Dwarves as I can manage, I toss some coins on the bar, and prepare to make my way to Blackrock Mountain.
The Searing Gorge and Blackrock Mountain make me uncomfortable, though I would expect that being surrounded by the sea would do the same for any Dark Iron Dwarf. The oppressing heat, and enclosing walls is very different from the expansive blue of ocean and sky I enjoy. The smokey mist seems to obscure everything as I enter the depths of Blackrock. I have left behind my usual armour, wearing instead very common armour from a smithy in Ironforge that produces it en masse. I find the Dwarves stare, wondering if they should attack me and take what treasures I carry, but I ignore them. It's obvious they don't get a large number of human visitors who are simply looking for a drink. I had memorized the map to the Grim Guzzler, but it was still a complex set of turns and passages to get there. I had gotten myself turned around on a couple of occasions, once even having to fend off a dwarf who wished to take advantage of my confusion. Instead the dwarf found himself missing a hand and an ear, and left to moan in pain on the grimy floor. Once I got to the Golem Factory, I knew I was close to the Guzzler. The smiths working on forging the reaver army of the Dark Iron Dwarves paid little notice to me, more focused on their own work. That served me well as I saw a familiar sight on one of the workbenches: A tool that had belonged to my friend Boldiam. Enlisting my former abilities as a cutpurse, I managed to acquire the tool with no-one noticing, and sighed softly at the first clue I had of my friends location. Without hesitation, I started across the bridge which overlooked an enormous chasm with a river of flame and fire towards the Guzzler.
"Welcome to the Guzzler." greeted a Dark Iron Dwarf at the door, "We don't get many of you taller folks in here. Assuming you're not looking for trouble."
I nodded, indicating I was just here for the drinks, and perhaps to make some purchases. I was gestured forward, and entered the Grim Guzzler.
The place was packed with Dwarves for the most part. I noticed a succubus who operated as a waitress, serving drinks to the anxious customers. It took me a moment to find a free table, but I eventually did, and started scanning the room for the Brewmaster.
"What can I get you, love?" the Succubus waitress asked, leaning on the table doing her best to earn a hefty tip.
"What do you recommend?" I replied, not making eye contact.
"For a tall dark ale like yourself? Try a Dark Iron Stout. I'll make sure there's a generous amount of head." The Succubus laughed at her own joke, and the sound was disturbingly pleasant.
"Sounds good. I'm also looking for a well known brewmaster..." I placed a number of coins on the table as I said this.
"Oh?" The Succubus queried, her thin tongue licking her lips at the sight of the coin, "You're likely looking for the Direbrew fellow. Brewmaster for Corin Direbrew, and most talented brewer this side of world."
"Is he here?" I continued, placing another coin on the stack.
"Not yet, handsome. But he usually drops by. When he does, I'll make the introduction. You might have to wait around a while."
I grinned, "Then I hope the ale is good."
The Succubus winked and left me to glance around the room and wait for my drink.
The Dark Iron Stout was surprisingly good. So good, I ended up polishing off three of them in quick succession. I've been known to enjoy thicker beers, but I was surprised by how much I was enjoying the Stout, which was easily the thickest Stout I'd ever had. When the Succubus returned with my fourth Stout, she was accompanied by a Dark Iron Dwarf, who I assumed was the Brewmaster.
"Master Erasleigh of the Azeroth Ale Society." The Brewmaster greeted, showing he had the upper hand at the moment.
"My reputation proceeds me." I replied, hiding my surprise.
"Perhaps, but only for another fan of the art. I once met your Brewer Samuelson. He does some magic, does he not?"
I was more surprised by the pleasantness of the Brewmaster. I was not expecting such informal conversation from a Dwarf.
"So, what brings such an important agent of the Society to our little corner?" The Brewmaster continued.
Lying would likely do more harm then good, so I came clean.
"I'm told you have a brew that can... disguise someone who is not a Dark Iron Dwarf."
The Brewmaster raised his bushy eyebrows, "Oh, I do. I don't usually give it to outsiders though. I'd hope you had a good reason."
I quickly explained that a renegade mage who had recently escaped from Tol Barad had been corresponding with someone in Blackrock, and I wished to find out what I could, before he could cause trouble for the Society.
The Brewmaster nodded, then made his offer.
"I'll give you a mug of the brew... but I'm going to want something in return. A Keg of Brewer Samuelson's Special Reserve..."
I blinked, that was a high price, and I'd be willing to pay it, but...
"Will you take my word I'll deliver it? It will take me a while to have it sent over and delivered, but I need to get my information as quickly as possible."
The Brewmaster studied me, and gestured for me to follow him. I trailed behind the Dwarf as he entered a storage room, full of kegs.
"Here..." The Brewmaster said, as he held a stone mug underneath a keg in the back corner of the room, "This'll do it. Don't forget my Keg."
The Brewmaster left me alone on the storage room with my mug of ale, which I quickly downed. I could feel the magic contorting around me, hiding my normal self with the illusion of a Dark Iron Dwarf. It was rather uncomfortable, as I felt my body alter with the magic. The pain made me double over, but soon passed, and I was, in appearance, a Dark Iron Dwarf. As I left the storage room, the Succubus winked at me and whispered she could get me another mug of the brew should I find time to stop by her apartment in Shadowforge City. I declined the offer, though it took a great deal of willpower to avoid her magics, and made my way into Shadowforge City.
Shadowforge City reminded me of Ironforge in appearance, circular with fire in the center. The similarities ended there, however. Ironforge was a bustling place, with pleasant dwarves and merchants wandering the streets. Shadowforge City had a number of Dark Iron Dwarves standing about just watching everyone with suspicion. I tried to look around without seeming too out of place, but that was harder then it sounds. I really had no leads beyond the letter discovered in Saares' tower, and no contact to start with. I was cursing my own foolishness when I saw something familiar: A Dwarf... a non-Dark Iron Dwarf.
I began to tail the Dwarf, keeping as much distance as I could, and after a few minutes I watched him enter what appeared to be a shop. Checking my surroundings I followed the Dwarf inside; He was waiting for me.
"What do you think you're doing?" the Dwarf asked, cocking back the flint on a rather gnarly looking pistol. I recognized the voice and the face despite the years that had passed.
"Boldiam?" I questioned, forgetting I did not look a thing like Caeridar.
"Oh, you can read the sign. Smart dwarf you are..." Boldiam's finger seemed ready to squeeze the trigger.
"Boldiam, it's me... Caeridar Erasleigh!" I blurted out quickly, "Oh... right... the disguise."
"Boy?" Boldiam looked shocked and lowered his pistol, "You're supposed to grow taller as you age, not shorter!"
I chuckled, "It's been a long time since Kul Tiras."
Boldiam nodded, and explained he'd kept track of me as best he could, "Heard you're with that Master Ramsay now. Good man he is."
I grinned and nodded, "I wish this was just a social call..."
Boldiam directed me into the backroom of his store, and offered me an ale as I explained what had transpired with the escape of Saares from Tol Barad and my unsuccessful mission to bring him down. When I was done explaining all that had occurred, Boldiam looked into his mug and frowned.
"It's too bad you didn't have a copy of the letter, I might have been able to help you with it. But without it, it could have been written by anyone in Shadowforge... Hmm... but someone with some connections, you'd think. I doubt it was a social or love letter. No... This Saares fellow, he'd likely want something."
Boldiam looked lost in thought as I silently drank my ale.
"There's an ambassador here from the Molten Core... If I were a mage looking for power... I know who I'd make a deal with."
I thanked Boldiam for the information, and tossed him back the tool I had taken from the Golem Factory.
"Hah, I thought I had lost this... I suppose you're wondering why I'm here? Not with my brethren up in Ironforge?"
I had been hesitant to ask about that, "I was wondering, you did leave Kul Tiras to go home."
Boldiam frowned, "True enough. I shouldn't have done that. I had a wife, you know. She was lovely, or at least I thought she was. When I returned from Kul Tiras, however, she had taken up with another. I was the one with the money though, so she concocted a story that had me booted out of Ironforge quickly. I quickly became a wanted man, and figured the only safe place was Shadowforge. My brother had hooked up with a Dark Iron once upon a time, and they took me in for a bit. It's not the same as Ironforge, but I'm comfortable here at least. Not all of the Dark Irons are bad, really, they're a lot like the rest of us."
I nodded and shook Boldiam's hand, taking my leave of his small shop and started towards where he said I could find the ambassador of the Molten Core.
It wasn't hard to find the Ambassador, he managed to have a rather large room with a lovely room of the fiery pits of Blackrock Mountain. I was surprised by the similarity the creature had to the Naga I had often fought at Kul Tiras and even the Eastern Kingdoms. It had yellow and orange scales as opposed to the cooler colours of the Naga I was used to, but they had similar snakey bodies. The Ambassador's face was less snakelike, and it snarled as it saw me.
"You're not who I was expecting. What do you want?"
The Ambassador threatened me with his trident, impatient for my answer. I tried to mimic the gruff voice of a Dark Iron Dwarf as I spoke.
"A mutual friend sent me, he's recently found his way free of Tol Barad."
I waited as recognition flashed in the Ambassador's eyes.
"Has he acquired it then?"
I had no idea what 'it' was, but figured it was likely important.
"Not yet, he was close, but there was interference from Theramore, and from another source."
The Ambassador snarled again, "I told him he'd not find it there. I told him Silithus was the best place to start, and you should tell him that as well. We'd all benefit from the stone should he find it sooner rather then later. My master grows impatient. As do I."
I recognized my dismissal, but I had learned something from the Ambassador at the very least: Saares was after a stone of some sort, one that would benefit both him and the Ambassador's Master, who I assume to be Ragnaros. I also knew that the Ambassador believe Silithus was the place to start looking. Furthermore, I wondered if Eisengrim had more knowledge of a stone then I had thought. I'd have to return to Theramore and take a look around again.
But for now, I was leaving Blackrock Mountain to return to Stormwind. Master Ramsay would need a report quickly, and perhaps the information I had obtained would assist his search on Kul Tiras.
