Another excursion to Orgrimmar today – I saw more of the city this time. I came across a gathering by the shores of a carefully cultivated poor of water. It was a bit overwhelming, being surrounded by so many huge musclebound monoliths (and quite a number of Forsaken), but they seemed friendly and polite, and I was lucky enough to hear some authentic troll and Tauren folklore firsthand.
Just before I left for home, I had a very fortuitous encounter! I was making my way along the Drag — a shopping arcade — and happened to trip over an orc who was lying face-down along the side of the street. Obviously, he was examining the tiny ecosystem of the gutter! Having gone through the usual phase of obsession with urban microclimates myself (and what young women in the bloom of life does not?) I instantly sensed a kindred spirit. He was so committed to his work, he didn’t even appear to have bathed or changed his clothes in weeks.
Of course, I introduced myself at once. He looked me over, his beady eyes resting on the bulging packs I was carrying, and he broke out into a grin. He was as pleased to see me as I was to see him! “My name is Ratstabber,” he replied. “Ratstabber the Completely Trustworthy. Sometimes known as Good Ol’ Honest Ratstabber.” I was delighted that I hadn’t disrupted his work, and said as much – he was so humble about it, he didn’t even seem to consider his activities worth mentioning, and kept trying to change the subject. Again and again he came around to all the things I was carrying – I happened to have found a patch of silverleaf and packed away all of it I could fit, to sell back in Silvermoon.
“Oh, no, no!” he said in horror. “Why, you’ll wear yourself out lugging all that around! I happen to have a little side business in the laundering of various goods, merely something I dabble in to support my three sick grandmothers. Whenever you scrounge up anything saleable, send it to me and I’ll move it for you and send the money back posthaste! I’ll get the best price for you, you can be sure of that. Just put your business in my hands, and you’ll never worry again!” He paused to let out a hacking cough, bend over, and vomit onto his boots. “Of course, I will be forced to take a small percentage of the profits – just to fund a … a long-term study I’m conducting to measure the effects of drinking and carousing on gambling performance.”
That sounded reasonable enough, and it WOULD be ever so nice not to have to cart everything to the bazaar myself. I agreed to Mr. Ratstabber’s proposal, and a deal was struck! From now on, he shall hold my financial pursestrings, and no more will I have cause to waste another minute worrying about money!
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