I’m sorry if that’s too blunt for you, but seriously — after breaking free of the Scourge, he’s consumed enough alcohol to get Revered status with Ironforge. Instead of going out and doing something with the life he’s gotten back, he’s gotten himself thrown out of more inns than I can count. I prevailed on a mage friend of mine to port him into Dalaran, where at least I can keep an eye on him.
He drinks a little less. Maybe because the drinks are more expensive in Dalaran? I don’t honestly know.
Anyway. Sorry. It’s tough writing about family like this, particularly someone I looked up to my entire childhood.
So I pull up a stool at the bar. He looks like hell, which is pretty normal. He keeps trying to convince me that he’s out there fighting battles against the Horde, but I never see him actually leave the place. I honestly think he’s just reliving old battles, over and over again.
“I was just in the weirdest battle for Alterac Valley I’ve ever seen, ‘wise,” he said.
“No, really. There was this Tauren with more health than I’d ever seen before. Not a little more, a lot more,” he said, his eyes a little wild.
“How much more?” I asked, ordering some wine. They have a really good house white here.
My eyebrows shot up.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t believe me either,” he said, taking a drink. “But that wasn’t the weirdest thing.”
My wine arrived. Just in time, too, I thought, taking a sip.
“I went into that cave — you know where the Horde always stream out — just to see what was in there. And there was a naked blood elf chick back there, swinging a sword at me.” He took a drink. I blinked.
“Are you serious?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Damnedest thing I ever saw. Can’t get her out of my head.”
“I can imagine, ‘wulf. Did you hit on her?” I know my brother. There’s a reason he gets thrown out of inns.
“Nope. Killed her good. But still…. I am never going back in that cave again,” he said, staring down at the drink in his hand.