This is the third part of a piece of fan fiction I began in the summer and since resubbing to Warcraft I've found my muse again! You can read the first two parts here and here and the third part here.
Garim and Raik were talking up a storm by the great fire. The table was littered with empty tankards and if Deme had still been fully human, she would have felt the warmth from the heavy, potent dwarven ale.
She looked around the inn. Ironforge was hewn from the very mountain and shaped into dwellings, taverns and traders supply shops. Each had low ceilings, thick carved stairs and deep cellars, stretching down into the bowels of the rock. The inn was no exception and she realised that she felt quite at home, hunkered down and enveloped by the earth. Her seat at the table afforded her a view of the door and she noticed a draenei duck as he entered the doorway. She smirked to herself. Ironforge truly was the Dwarven capital and the dwellings were barely tall enough for a human to walk at full height, let alone a night elf, never mind a draenei! The draenei was dressed in worn battle armour and carrying a large saddle bag. He spoke briefly with the inn keeper and then left again, no doubt running an errand or arranging supplies for his battalion.
Her attention returned to the conversation around the table. Garim was filling Raik in on the latest movements of the Alliance forces and both had sullen looks upon their faces. The Lich King's defeat felt like it had been a long time ago and now that Deathwing had resurfaced, and wreaked so much havoc in doing so, the armies of Azeroth, both Horde and Alliance, had to fight yet another tremendous threat to the planet. Deme missed her brothers and sisters in arms, but to retire had been the right decision. Arthas, his army, his destruction, had been stopped. She had found a new life with Raik and they were both determined to embrace it. If only the dreams would stop.
Garim caught her eye
"You look a bit lost in thought there lassie, would you care for more ale?"
"No, I'm good thanks Garim," she gave him a small smile, "I think it's probably time for us to rest. We still have a long way to go." She turned to Raik and could see from the twinkle in his eye and the slight lop-sided grin that if they didn't head to their bunk now, it would become a very long night followed by at least one very sore head the next morning.
"Right you are Deme." Garim replied, "Let me show you to your quarters, I've got you a place in the military quarter, it's a bit quieter at that end of the city for a good nights rest."
The three friends settled up with the inn keeper and made their way back toward the military quarter and the lodgings Garim had arranged for them. Just like the inn, the lodgings had a low roof and a great big fire burning in the grate. Garim explained that when they were ready to leave in the morning they should head to the gryphon keeper in the great forge who would arrange passage for them to Menethil and then he bade them farewell. He, himself, would be off very early the next morning to rejoin his battalion with fresh supplies in Twilight Highlands where they had been tasked with claiming land and resources for the Alliance to facilitate an attack against Cho'gall in his lofty eerie perched in the south western corner of the region. From a personal note, Garim, an Ironforge dwarf born and bred, was thrilled to be working along side the Wildhammers, the great dwarves of the north and learning many tricks with gryphon and mace from them. Deme and Raik hugged their old friend and promised to visit again on their return journey, if only to hear the tales of the wildhammers.