Stormwind is by all accounts a city of hustle and bustle, craft and trade, training and scholarship. After a gathering as rowdy as our recent celebration of Solidarity, one can be pressed for a quiet corner for intellectual discourse. 1459 More Words
Stormwind is by all accounts a city of hustle and bustle, craft and trade, training and scholarship. After a gathering as rowdy as our recent celebration of Solidarity, one can be pressed for a quiet corner for intellectual discourse. It seems I can reliably find such a location at the Pig and Whistle. The following conversation took place right after my previous “Well Met” entry. I sat with Gizzit Grimwald, a prominent tailor and tradesman, and Professor Ellwynde, of the Stormwind Academy of Science and Arcana, around a large table. The buzz of the tavern avoided us, for the most part.
Jordana Flint: Hello! I can't help but admit I overheard some thrilling conversations down here!
Gizzit Grimwald: I'm glad you think so! [Mr. Grimwald nodded, his mustache and beard broken by a chortle.]
Professor Ellwynde: Indeed, this fine gentleman was just regaling me with tales of his travels.
JF: Excellent! Then you are doing my job for me! Thank you for your patience and your time.
As a rapport between the two had been readily established while they awaited my arrival, I offered to facilitate a bit of a round-table conference.
Prof. E: You too are here for the interview?
Prof. E: I never asked for your name, friend, so I shall do so now. [The night elf stood to shake his hand, her dark blue hair shimmering in the flicker of the tavern’s fireplace.]
JF: Well call me a grasshopper in the snow, you didn’t make that connection quite yet?
GG: Me? I am Gizzit Grimwald. The Traveling Tailor! You may have seen my poster on the Auction House notice board in Stormwind?
Prof. E: I spend little time there, but I’m sure they look great!
GG: [The gnome was taken aback.] Well, thank you. I spent some time on them. Anyway…
Prof. E: I have no qualms interviewing together.
GG: Neither do I.
JF: Wonderful! This will be fun! For my notes, can you please both spell your names?
Prof. E: Of course. I am Professor Ellwynde of the Stormwind Academy of Science and Arcana.
JF: Pleased to meet you! And you sir?
GG: And I am Gizzit Grimwald. I am a traveling tailor merchant that happens to also study and partake in the arcane arts.
JF: Pleased to meet you as well! A table of scholars, for sure!
GG: And devilishly handsome!
We all burst into laughter, for a brief moment.
JF: So, as a merchant, you must see many lands across Azeroth?
GG: Indeed I have. My tailoring began in Dun Morogh, I then took my skills through the Gates of Ironforge and now, I am here.
JF: Does a life of tailoring, or science, lead to any, let’s say… perilous encounters? Or has the journey been relatively safe?
GG: If you count the people you meet as perilous, then I have been inundated with perilous situations. My patience is thin for those who don’t think before they speak.
Prof. E: It did in the past! Now my life revolves around my wonderful human students, and my partner of course. But before, I walked the path of a druid, traveling from ancient dig sites to ruins and everything in between.
JF: I see! Ellwynde, do you find that patience is in short supply in academia?
Prof. E: In some, yes. When it comes to historians, anthropologists, writers, and scholars, patience is a celebrated virtue. For the more arcane inclined at the academy, well, they’re always rushing to grow in power and knowledge.
JF: Far be it from me to foster debate at our lively table, but I am curious, Gizzit, if you think there is validity to this claim?
GG: Oh, undoubtedly so. I live by the mantra that good and joyful things come to those who wait. It takes a strong person to have patience, but an even stronger person to uphold it.
JF: A wholesome and thoughtful sentiment! Have your journeys, adventures, and employment opportunities been quite lonesome, or have you made friends along the way?
GG: Me? I have had returning customers from Westfall, from Darnassus. I am amazed that a little gnome like me would have such an impact on some people. I craft linen and wool bags for crying out loud! It’s just humbling to know that my work is recognized and appreciated.
JF: Little gnome, big heart, my Papa always said!
GG: Big heart. Big ego. It’s all the same!
We shared a moment of laughter and understanding, and then Gizzit looked at the Professor across the table for her input. Just then, a tavern patron stumbled into our table, knocking over Gizzit’s flagon and nearly causing me to topple from my seat.
GG: Why must people insist on running inside a tavern?!
We mopped up the ale as best we could, before returning to our chat.
Prof. E: You know, Jordana, a gnome’s heart is indeed a larger percentage of a gnome’s total weight and mass in comparison with a human. There’s merit to your father’s statement. And as for my traveling days, yes, being alone in the world that long was difficult. Even for a druid. These days I am surrounded by people but those people are human. It is rare to see an elf beyond my partner and that is a different form of loneliness.
JF: Do you make it back home often? At all?
Prof. E: I did not. In training to become a druid, you have to accept that seeing family again is rare. I am blessed by Elune that I am still with my partner.
GG: [Gizzit sat attentively.] And is that enough for you? I am sorry Jordana, I am here to answer questions, not ask them!
Prof. E: It is, Gizzit, it is. I live with my beloved here now.
JF: Have you found a feeling of family at the Academy, would you say?
Prof. E: Yes, the Academy is my family now too.
JF: I would ask the everyday warrior what her most challenging foe has been! [I flexed my tiny gnome arms, to my company’s kind tolerance.] But… to this intellectual bunch, I ask: What has been the greatest mystery or puzzle you have overcome?
GG: Oh, I can answer that! That’s easy! That damn stitching pattern of a wool bag! My word! That is something I will never, ever want to learn again!
JF: I can admit I have dabbled in linen… wool is beyond my grasp. Most impressive. [Note: At the time of publication, I have become more adept with wool.]
Prof. E: Well, it’s certainly not something I’ll understand.
GG: If you’d like, I can possibly show you something? When you’re not busy being the mouth of Stormwind!
JF: That would be a real treat! [Gizzit quietly excused himself to refill his flagon.] And you, Professor?
Prof. E: Getting humans to accept you. In Darkshore there are a series of interconnected elven ruins that… well… the short version is, the history of all elven people is shrouded in mystery and I’ve devoted my life to studying it.
JF: Yet certainly, here in Stormwind, you can find such acceptance?
Prof. E: I couldn’t at first. Eventually, I earned the respect of my students.
JF: What progress have you made, if you can share it, in understanding the ruins?
Prof. E: I’m afraid my findings aren’t ready to be published, even after the last 600 years of research.
JF: Patience is truly the theme, yes?
Prof. E: Indeed it is. More common among my people.
JF: On the subject of acceptance, do either of you feel part of a unified Alliance? Do we stand together against the Horde?
GG: I rarely see them. If I do, I always have my associate with me. I am forever in debt to him and owe him my life. He is a dwarven warrior, by the name of Harten. He would love a mention, I know he would!
JF: It seems we all rely on others daily. And you Ellwynde, you mentioned your trusted partner?
Prof. E: Yes, my beloved and I are partners in all things.
JF: Wonderful. Well, thank you both for you time and thoughtful answers. I appreciate you sharing these tidbits about your journeys across the world.
GG: Thank you, it was a pleasure.
Prof. E: And I thank you for your time. I would love to continue our conversation another time as well.
Professor Ellwynde stood for her portrait with poise and stoicism, while Mr. Grimwald contained his bursting personality for just enough seconds to capture the sketch above. As we said our farewells, there was a distinct sound from the streets of Stormwind—the quiet of night, the promise of a new day in the works.