Just like the previous mornings, Olson woke up from a nightmare. He jumped up from the bed, sweating profusely, and used his right hand to grab the short knife under the pillow, but he missed it. Only then did he realize that the war was over. He was not on the battlefield in Arathi Highlands, nor in a dangerous position, but at home in Ironforge, in his warm but noisy tavern. .
At this time, as usual, he heard various sounds coming from outside the door, the soft laughter of dwarves, the careful bargaining of humans, and more naturally, the bold talk of dwarves - I really can't stand these dwarves, even if they are Early in the morning, they would hold large glasses of thunder wine and talk as if no one else was watching. People who see dwarves chatting for the first time always think that these short but strong and bold men are quarreling. In fact, they are whispering something that "cannot be heard by others."
Slipping in through the crack in the door, there are also mixed aromas: the aroma of morning dew wine, the slightly spicy taste of boiled clam meat, and the strong smell of cumin from barbecued wolf steak, all of which are seduce people's appetite.
Olson wiped his sweat and breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, he didn't need to be nervous, the war was over. Now he is a highly respected veteran with the "Medal of Valor" and a hero who survived the cruel battlefield.
Get up and put on the linen clothes. Although it is easy to not have to wear dozens of pounds of plate armor to run around every day, Olson always feels very uncomfortable. After stretching, he was ready to eat the breakfast prepared by his wife Tieselan.
Thinking of his beautiful wife, Olson felt a warmth in his heart. During the four years he left home, Thijesseland managed the small tavern vigorously, especially after Olson got back a large sum of gold coins-including retirement pay and war meritorious services. The reward is that the store has more liquidity and the business is more prosperous. It seems that they can spend the next days peacefully but comfortably.
"Bland and comfortable, what could be more important to Olsen who crawled out from the dead?" But why does he always feel uncomfortable, as if this life does not belong to him?
Maybe it¡¯s because he just came back and left the battlefield. Soon, he will no longer have nightmares of blood and flesh. The only memory left to him in those four years will be the "Medal of Valor" that represents honor.
When he thought of the medal, Olson looked at the bedside table and was stunned. He remembered clearly that last night, as usual, he wiped the medal carefully with a soft cloth dipped in oil, and then placed it on the table until it was bright enough to reflect candlelight. Why was it missing now?
"Thieselan! Where is my medal?" Olson was so anxious that he ran out in a hurry, almost bumping into his wife.
Thijeselan was holding a silver plate with steaming milk and cake on it. It seemed that he had brought breakfast to him. "Medal? Is it the metal piece you showed me that day? That's right. I found a table with uneven legs in the morning. I searched for a long time and found that it would be most suitable to use a metal piece - your medal to pad it, so"
Before Tieseran could finish speaking, Olson had already angrily pushed her away and rushed out. With a crisp cracking sound, the glass containing the milk shattered on the corridor, and the milk spilled all over the floor.
The tavern was very lively - no one would believe it unless they saw it with their own eyes. There were so many idle people in Ironforge. They just got up in the morning and went to the tavern to drink and chat. Olson felt the anger in his heart spread throughout his body. Are they working so hard and fighting bloody battles on the front lines just to protect these people?
With just one glance, Olson saw his poor medal. The originally shiny medal was now resting under the leg of a table, soaked in yellow-brown wine. Two dwarves with long beards sat at the table, drinking and talking as if no one else was around. The red-haired guy raised the cheap Thunder Ale and poured it into his mouth. The overflowing wine dripped down his beard and splashed on the medal.
Olson couldn't control it anymore. He rushed over and gave the unreasonable guy a hard push. The red-haired dwarf was caught off guard and fell to the ground together with the chair. The noise in the tavern stopped abruptly, and everyone turned their attention to Olson. They recognized him as the owner of the tavern, a veteran who had just returned. But why does he look like a raging bull now?
The bull's next move almost affected everyone. He overturned the table in front of him with force, and the broken bones of the roasted quail and the crumbs of the cherry cake flew everywhere. People screamed and fled, but Olson didn't care. He bent down to pick up his beloved medal and wiped it vigorously on his coat.
"Oni, are you crazy?" Thieselan, who was following Olson, was also frightened by him, and she quickly went to comfort him.The frightened customers certainly did not forget to scold their husbands.
These guests are all regular customers of the tavern. In the past few years, Tieselan has seen them more than her husband. A small part of the tavern's business is maintained by them. Now, if they are all fooled by the reckless Olson, Now that the anger is gone, the tavern should simply close its doors.
Olson did not answer. He held the medal tightly, and the sharp edges hurt his palms.
"You have to give me a proper reason, otherwise, I will use my fists to make you apologize!" The red-haired dwarf got up from the ground and immediately rushed to Olson and roared.
"Fist? I really want you to know what a fist is!" Olson's right hand was tightly clenched into a ball. On the battlefield, most weapons cannot withstand long-term battles. Many times, Olson and his comrades are forced to fight the enemy with bare hands. He knows very well how powerful his fists are - even if he is tall and strong. The tauren was once punched by Olsen and his bones were broken!
A soft and warm little hand took Olson's arm: "Oni, you should apologize to the guests. You are the owner of the tavern, how can you treat customers like this?"
Tieseran's soft voice did not extinguish the anger in Olson's heart. He said bitterly: "My medal, the medal I bought with blood and wounds, how can you let you trample on it like this? You, you, simply Let our blood be shed in vain!" After throwing away his wife's hand, Olson rushed out of the tavern without looking back.
Like many grassroots soldiers, Olson has complicated feelings for the ordinary people on the Alliance's home front. On the one hand, they fought bloody battles on the front line, and the slogans they shouted every day were to defend the alliance, defend their hometown, and defend their parents and relatives. They fought for their relatives in their hometown; but on the other hand, they ate the food distributed by the Arashi Military Supplies Department every day. With rough and unpalatable military rations, wearing heavy armor, and being in a state of high tension all the time, the soldiers could not help but be jealous of the civilians in their hometown.
At least, they can have hot soup to drink and have a comfortable sleep after a tiring day.
Olson himself didn¡¯t know why he lost such a temper, and why he almost got into a fight with a customer in his own tavern - then, go to someone else¡¯s tavern and have a solid fight, and you might feel better .
Because the center of Ironforge is the world-famous melting pot, a large amount of metal ore is smelted into metal every day and made into various weapons. Therefore, this city dug out of the mountains is always filled with a pungent smell. . Olson covered his nose and finally found another pub in the corner of the military zone.
"Welcome." The boss was an old dwarf. He was lying on the bar table bored and said hello lazily. The entire tavern was empty, and there was no other customer except Olson.
¡°Have a glass of wine¡ªthe strongest kind.¡±
"No problem." The dwarf boss straightened his thick black mustache, stepped on the chair and took out a bottle of wine, wiped the dust on it with a rag, poured a glass and brought it to Olson.
Olson then discovered that the tables and chairs were covered with dust and had not been cleaned for who knows how many days.
"Why is it so deserted?" Olson took a sip of wine, and the thick wine flowed down his throat, seeming to ignite a fire. Then he remembered that he hadn't eaten breakfast today.
The dwarf boss also poured himself a glass and sighed: "What can we do? Everyone has gone to the Coat of Arms Tavern, and you are my first customer in a month."
The Coat of Arms Tavern? Olson was stunned, isn't that his tavern?
"Your wine tastes very strong, too. How come no one comes?" Olson asked, taking another sip. The strong drink cut like a knife in his stomach.
What a wonderful feeling.
The dwarf boss sighed again: "Is this your first time coming to Ironforge? The boss lady of the coat of arms is a human beauty, what about me? A dwarf old man. Wouldn't you rather see a beautiful woman? And - "The boss lowered his voice and said mysteriously, "I heard that the slut's husband is a stupid soldier and hasn't been back for many years. Well, her store is full of old customers. You know what I mean. Are you ready? Hehehehehe." The old dwarf laughed loudly.
The next moment, the laughter turned into screams. The glass in Olson's hand hit the dwarf hard on the head.
¡°I¡¯m the fucking one who was stupid enough to be a soldier!¡±
A fight finally broke out, but the anger was not vented. Under the stimulation of alcohol, Olson lost his mind. He was already far away from the tavern, but the words of the dwarf old man were still bombarding his eardrums over and over again.
It¡¯s actually like this! how could this be?
Olson¡¯s hand became tighter and tighter. The edges of the medal pricked his palm, and blood fell on the ground drop by drop.
Maybe it¡¯s a misunderstanding, maybe the dwarf old man recognized himself and deliberately made himself angry, maybe¡ª¡ª
When he saw the familiar sign of the Shield Tavern, Olson calmed down a little. He began to comfort himself and tried to convince himself. However, when he walked into the tavern, all of that might be gone.
Thijeslan, his dear wife, the charming proprietress of the Shield Tavern is hugging an elf man tightly, her head is pressed against the elf's waist, and her face is smiling like the morning glow on the Black Coast. The dozen or so guests standing nearby laughed and clapped, as if they had seen something worth celebrating.
The glass of strong wine he just drank rose to the top of his head, and Olson's eyes were in a trance. What happened next was completely instinctive. He didn't think anything, and he already punched out.
With the first punch, the elf, who was tall but much weaker in physique, flew out sideways and smashed a table; the second punch was replaced by a slap before it landed on Thijeselan's face, but the woman still After being knocked to the ground by Olson, his fair face quickly became congested and swollen.
"I never thought that while I was risking my life on the front line, you would hook up with someone else! I would rather starve to death than have this tavern or use the money you earned from selling your body!"
The rolling mountains outside Ironforge are covered with white snow all year round. Even the sentinels on the mountain patrol couldn't resist the cold even in their thick cotton coats. However, one man was wearing only a thin linen shirt and sat alone in the pine forest. One hour. If his breath hadn't condensed white mist in the air, proving that he was still alive, the sentries would have gone to collect his body.
The cold temperature is what Olson needs most right now. Being blown by the cold wind, he slowly calmed down. Before going to the battlefield, he and Thieseran had been married for three years, and they had a passionate love affair for two years before that. After all, Ironforge is a city of dwarves and gnomes, and the number of humans is not very large. He and Tieselan knew each other very well before they got married. Although my wife loves to talk, laugh, and has an extroverted personality, she is not a person who thinks of things differently.
After the drunkenness passed, I slowly thought about it and found that there were many suspicious things about the words of the dwarf old man. The old guests in the tavern are basically dwarves. Dwarves are not addicted to alcohol. Most of the night elves only use Ironforge as a transit point for their travels. As for humans, humans have a fine tradition of frugality. Where are they? Are you willing to go to the pub every day and spend a lot of money?
¡°Those dwarves, those dwarves with messy hair and beards, and their bodies smelling like sweat, how could Thieselan like them? Moreover, if she cared so much about money, why did she marry herself back then? After being married for so many years, apart from bringing back dozens of pitiful gold coins and a medal, what else could he give Thieseran?
In order to attract business to the tavern, he would accompany the guests to bed - this logic is too ridiculous. But why did he believe it without hesitation at that time?
Olson, who was deep in thought, did not notice that several figures slowly approached him. One of them shook a few times and disappeared out of thin air.
A familiar voice came from behind. It was very slight, but in Olson's ears it was like sounding a battle alarm.
There are thieves, it¡¯s the sound of thieves stalking!
Olsen jumped up and drew his sword from his waist - he always did this on the battlefield. However, because he sat on the snow for too long, he found that his limbs were frozen and lost consciousness, and , and there is no long sword at all on his waist.
With a "bang" sound, Olson received a heavy blow on the back of his head. Suddenly, his eyesight turned black and countless stars were flying everywhere. Before he could make any move, the sound of rapid footsteps came from his side again. This sound was more familiar to Olson. As a soldier, he had charged at the enemy with the same pace countless times. This time, he became the target.
It seems that dwarves are a head shorter than humans, but in fact they are not light at all. The dwarf warriors who rushed over quickly knocked Olsen over and beat him down without head or face with the long wooden stick in his hand.
Olson completely lost his resistance. He was not wearing armor, and every attack from the dwarf warriors and night elf thieves made him feel pain to the bone. All he could do was hold his head in his hands, curl up on the ground and get beaten. The only good thing was that the two of them used wooden sticks. If they had used swords, he would not have been able to return home alive.
Even so, a few minutes later Olson was still beaten with bruises all over his body and big bumps on his head and face. He had no choice but to shout for help, but the mountain patrol sentries didn't seem to hear them and hid far away.
Why are there enemies outside Ironforge? Olsen was confused, could he be a Defias bandit? However, their sphere of influence has always been in the Western Wilderness area, and they have not heard of expanding to Dun Morogh.
?Moreover, these two people cooperated tacitly, and their attacks were accurate and ruthless. Although they avoided his vital points, every time he accumulated some strength to prepare for a counterattack, he would be hit hard, without giving him any chance to counterattack. It was completely The methods of a professional soldier.
After a whirlwind of blows, the voice of a priest singing was heard not far away.
I really think highly of him! Olson smiled bitterly. He was just a warrior without armor or weapons, but the other party sent out a warrior, a thief, and a priest! With such a combination, even if Olson is fully armed, he is no match for them.
The priest ended the healing prayer spell, and Olson was surprised to find that the target of the treatment actually included him! The cool feeling flowed slowly on his skin, and the injuries he suffered quickly healed, and even the feeling of freezing disappeared.
How is this going? Olson stood up in confusion, but saw a human priest, a dwarf warrior, and a night elf rogue standing in a row in front of him, looking at him coldly.
"I think you understand now, right? We don't want to kill you, we just want to teach you a lesson." The dwarf's dull voice shook the snowflakes from the trees.
"Why?"
"Because you are an idiot!" The thief cursed fiercely, "If I had my way, I would just kill you with one knife. There are actually stupid men like you in the world."
¡°Forget it, I¡¯ve been beaten and scolded, let me explain it to you.¡± The pastor gave his two companions a hand, and the three of them sat on the snow.
After being beaten and scolded inexplicably, Olson sat down inexplicably: "I hope you can explain it clearly, otherwise I will report it to the Ironforge City Defense Command. Attacking veterans is tantamount to treason"
"We are all veterans." The dwarf warrior interrupted Olson.
"Yes, we are all veterans." The priest said affirmatively, "Are you a soldier of the 26th Corps? I remember that your task is to defend the major farms in Arathi and ensure the supply of crops."
"Yes, how do you know?"
"We are veterans of the Thirty-ninth Corps. You may have heard that the four battles for the ranch were the most brutal battles in the Battle of Arathi. We are all survivors." The pastor took out something from his pocket, which was a Medal, "Meritorious Warrior of Arathi". It is only issued to the soldiers with the most outstanding achievements and significant contributions on the battlefield of Arathi. It is the highest level among the medals.
Seeing the medals and considering their beating skills, Olson could only believe what the other party said: "Even if you are veterans, why did you attack me?"
"I said it, because you are an idiot!" The thief looked at Olson, his eyes full of gloomy light. Olson didn't realize that this night elf was the one who hugged Tieselan and was punched away by him.
"To put it simply, you seem to have heard a certain dwarf say that Mrs. Thieselan used a method you didn't want to hear to make the tavern's business prosperous, but you are wrong. You didn't notice that the old guests in the tavern , many of them are veterans. Ironforge is an important rear base for several major battlefields, and we all gather here. You know, most of the soldiers are children from poor families and have little money on them, but before going to the battlefield , No one wants to live a comfortable life for a few days, because we don¡¯t know if we can come back alive." The pastor said lightly, his eyes looking into the distance, as if recalling the distant past.
"We go to the Coat of Arms Tavern every day because we can pay bills there." Seeing the priest stop, the impatient warrior added. His fiery red hair reminded Olson that the two of them almost had a conflict in the morning because of the medal.
"Obligations? Impossible! I remember that when I left, I didn't leave much money to the tavern. As you said, soldiers are all poor." Olson said doubtfully.
"Yes, your tavern was soon on the verge of bankruptcy. At this time, your wife sold her cherished jewelry, the Broken Jade Heart." The pastor said.
Olson was stunned. The Broken Jade Heart is Tieselan's dowry and an heirloom of their family. After moving to Ironforge from Darrow County, the Broken Jade Heart was Tieseran's only memory of her childhood and family. She couldn't bear to wear it at all. How could she sell it?
The thief said: "Actually, the fundamental reason is me. I fell ill before going to the battlefield, and Mrs. Thieseran sold the necklace in order to treat me." His voice had emotional fluctuations for the first time, and his eyes It was also filled with tears.
The priest patted the thief on the shoulder, although it was difficult to do so due to their height: "Didn't you buy the necklace back? Mr. Olson, what you saw today may have caused you a misunderstanding. , in fact, it was the thief who saved enough money and took the lady¡¯s necklace"I came back and sent it over - my wife was very happy, and so were all of us, so"
"No need to say anything!" Olson interrupted the pastor. Regret was like countless ants biting his heart. How could he hit his wife? How could he insult her with such vicious words?
"If you don't believe it, you can confront that nonsense dwarf. We asked him clearly. He is purely jealous of the business of the Shield Tavern. Now he is dragging his broken leg to pack his luggage and prepare to get out of Ironforge. You can walk faster before it's too late." The thief said fiercely. There was no doubt that the dwarf's broken leg had something to do with him.
"Actually - actually I have never doubted my wife." Olson said with difficulty, "I - I was angry because she didn't care about my medals and actually used them to pad the table. You know, as a veteran , the medal represents our honor, our blood, our everything."
"But it doesn't mean anything now, does it?" The pastor breathed a sigh of relief and said with a smile, "Go back and take a look, she may still be crying - I can heal the physical injuries, but I can't heal the spiritual ones. There¡¯s a way.¡±
"I understand!" Olson stood up suddenly. He remembered something and asked casually, "Dear Mr. Pastor, why do you care so much about my tavern?"
"Because before I went to the battlefield, the noble lady gave me a lot of bacon. You know how precious bacon was in the days when you could only eat Arathi military rations." The human priest said with a smile.
The dwarf warrior and the night elf rogue took a sip together. Apparently, they also had their share of the bacon.
"I understand. Thank you, thank you for beating me up."
Ending
In the Alliance, Ironforge is undoubtedly a great and shocking steel fortress.
When you travel, there is one place you must visit: the Medal Tavern.
Actually, this pub was originally called the Coat of Arms, but one day, many veterans sent various medals. They used the medals to pad the tables, make water coasters, hang them on the walls, and inlay them on the bar. When the door is opened, the wind chimes made of a series of medals will emit sweet music, accompanied by many heroic voices: "Welcome to the Medal Tavern."