(2025-04-21) There is no plan

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Author:	Saaron
Summary:	Thalstan is visited by Melga-Len, daughter of a Dwarven senator in the middle of a scandal. She needs help finding a place to hide while things calm down..
Rating:	T for Teen

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Heavy drinking, hiding from criminals

Deathwing might be raging through the skies of Azeroth and blood elves and fel orcs might be menacing Outland, but one could be forgiven for not noticing any of it inside the homey, lava-warm expanse of Ironforge. Perhaps even moreso if one were observing the steady daily rhythms of the Thirsty Dragon pub. This evening, the last of the regulars have recently straggled out by now, their departing overloud voices holding forth their opinions on the latest Senate scandal. Thalstan Stouthammer remains downstairs, wiping down the tables so his ma can have a bit of a rest upstairs. He doesn't help in the pub as much as he once did, what with the Cobalt Blade and all, so he tries to make the odd day really count. Thal gives a low rumbling hum as he continues the work, the melody likely familiar to those who know recent popular bawdy songs in the military ward. This one is a ridiculous story about a well-proportioned lady, a stepstool, a chandelier and… you know, probably don't ask the rest. Anyway, the door is still open, but other than the humming Thalstan, no one is present.

A hooded figure pulls a little tighter on her hood as she passes by a group of people loudly discussing the legal debacle of Senator's Ironward. She moves opposite to them, towards the Thirsty Dragon while they seem to be leaving its welcoming lights. The figure comes inside the pub, takes a look, and closes the door behind her. She looks straight at Thalstan. "Thal! Finally ye're here! Ye hafta help me!" she says, removing her hood to reveal a beautiful young dwarven lass with grey-ish pale skin and flamboyant red hair, with very visible similarly-colored fluff on her chin. Melga-Len Ironward's hair doesn't look as well maintained as it usually is, and her clothes are much more simple than she's used to.

"Melga-Len?" Thal looks up in surprise and breaks off his humming. "I've no' seen hide nor hair o' ye for months an' now… what is it? Somethin' to do with that scandal folk were blatherin' on about? Yer not caught up in tha' are ye?"

"Aye, tha' I am!" Melga-Len answers, falling dramatically into a chair near the entrance, wiping sweat from her forehead theatrically. "Ma pa had the bright idea ta name some o' the criminals he's been workin' with." She gestures towards the bar, deciding that the pub was still open. "Yer best mead, lad." She shakes her head. "Anyway, now they want his head, but since he's in prison, it's mine they'll take. I canna lose my head, it's too pretty, it is."

Thalstan raises his bushy eyebrows at the lad, but does head over the bar to pour a glass of mead. "I'd say a day o' runnin' fer yer life merits a free drink, but yer goin' ta have to give me more than that. Yer not mixed up with the Twilights, are ye? I'd no' have marked ye for the type."

"A day? If only 't was a day!" Melga-Len throws her hands up in the air. "I have been lookin' for ye for days, I have! Movin' from inn to inn to hide while ye were who-knows-where!" She shakes her head, getting up from her seat. "I have no idea. I never really cared for my pa's work, really. I dinna even know he was corrupt. He never mentioned it. So who knows, if the guys are with Twilight or not. I am not. That's all tha' matters to me."

"I did no' take ye the type fer dirty politics, to be certain," Thal says, thumping the glass of mead in front of her. "Or politics a'tall, sometimes, except as they let ye have fun. Certainly no' a death cult lass, I would no' have said. I'm no' sure why I'd be help — unless, hmm…" Thal strokes his beard thoughtfully. "I do still know a good number o' people in th' hair, fashion, and makeup business, if a new look might help ye slip yer pa's unsavory friends." He pauses, settling down at the bar across from her. "I've been in Outland, mostly, an' I'll be headin' back there soon. I got a team now, Cobalt Blade. Ye might have seen the novels on us? Tha's real, this time, I'm no' just fer the cover art."

"Thal," Melga-Len stares at him. "does this look like the face of someone who reads? I dinna have the patience for books. It's very impressive though, I hafta be congratulatin' you. Yer next drink's on me!" She falls back into the chair just as dramatically. "I just need a place ta hide, honest. With my ma out o' the picture, there's no one to protect me at home. I canna fight." She takes a big swig of her mead, thinking about Commander Ironward, lost in the Cataclysm. "Yer strong, right? Yer a fighter, aye? A guard, if I'm no' mistaken? And they have no reason ta think I'm at yer house. I know everyone in Ironforge, there's no reason fo' them to suspect ye more than the others." She finishes her drink with a second swig. "I dinna even know why this is a debate, ye'll probably say yes in the name o' our friendship."

"I don't know, I've got this face an' I still read all the best adventure-romances," Thal says, gesturing at his own intense eyes, prominent nose and luxurious beard. "But also I am a fighter, more now than last time we ran into each other, thanks t' Cobalt. Though I'll be gone from here more often than not, and…" his eyes twinkle, "…are we tha' kind o' friends Melga-Len? Or is this a friendship more deep an' true on days ye need favors, an' less so on others?" He shakes his head, and says, "Don't answer tha', I'm only teasin'. Fact is, tha's one reason they're no' like to look for ye round here. How long d'ye think it'll take? Till the guard rounds 'em up, mayhap?"

"Oh, but I will answer yer question, dinna worry," Melga-Len raises an eyebrow. "Maybe I did exagerate our friendship a bit," she shrugs. "O' course, I have closer friends, but will they be as reliable and trustworthy as ye? That's a different thin'." She raises her mug and points it at him. "'nother one," she sighs a very, very sorrowfull and deep sigh. "I dinna know fo' how long. Until all this calms down? Until maybe I find my own place, away from Ironforge? Canna get all my stuff and travel right now, ye know? They'd follow me. Poor little ol' me."

Thal gives her a level look, and then sets the mead bottle next to her glass. She can pour herself. "I appreciate the flattery," Thal says, "Which is all true, by the way. But ye've got to give me some better sense o' the problem. Who's after ye exactly. How dangerous is this thing yer pa's caught up in? Yer asking me ta risk me and mine, ye know."

Melga lets out a little gasp as he sets the bottle next to her and does not pour it himself. How dare! "I dinna do flattery, never. I mean it, but if ye dinna want to believe it…" she shrugs exaggeratedly, showing that she does care if he doesn't believe it. "I've no idea who it is my pa is workin' with. From the people arrested, looks like they're organized criminals." She pours herself the drink like some kind of nobody. "The kind ta go after yer daughter if yer double-crossin' them. Not the kind ta open portals for Ol' Gods or somethin', I reckon."

"Tha's good, then," Thal nods. "Easier ta go against criminals than Ol' Gods, I'd reckon. An' yer not in any legal trouble yerself, are ye? So if I'm no' around an' my ma needed, she could call in the guard if things got spicy?"

Melga scoffs. "Why would I be? No trouble fo' me, o' course! Only hidin' from my pa's enemies."

Thal drums his fingers against the table, and then sighs. "I'll help ye out, Melga, provided we're no' dodging the Guard. But ye've got to have a plan, aye? How do ye see all this playin' out?"

"O' course!" Melga says. "I need ta wait for things ta calm down, just a bit. Probably won't take long."

"D'ye mind, uh… sharin' the plan?" Thal asks, furrowing his brow. "It's no' that I don't trust ye, I jus' think sometimes… ye could use a hand with the strategies, aye?"

Melga stares at Thal in silence. She pours herself another drink without looking at the glass. She's too busy making intense eye contact with him. "… I need ta wait for things ta calm down, just a bit." She takes a respectful, huge sip. "That's the plan, do ye get it now?"

Thal facepalms. "I get it now. There is no plan, yer jus' hopin' the problems will all sort themselves out without ye liftin' a finger. Melga, in my time wi' the Cobalt Blade, I've no' found any problem that didn't need a whole lotta work ta solve. Mostly violence, ta be honest. I'll let ye lay low here, but ye got to think about how ta fix the situation. Ye think there'll be enough evidence that yer enemies are locked up? Would ye need ta find more evidence? Tha' sort o' thing."

"Well, ye've got lots of friends with yer Cobalt Blade thing, right?" Melgan finishes the drink. "Maybe they can help with that?" She throws her hands in the air and rolls her eyes. "How do ye want me to stay in hidin' and still find all the information?"

"So what ye're lookin' for is contacts," Thal says, frowning in thought. "An' ye clearly need help in makin' 'em. Have ye considered hiring Cobalt to help?"

"I got plenty o' contacts! Just maybe not the trustworthy kind like ye's," Melga shrugs. "Ye guys get hired for stuff? Ye just don't go around saving the world for free?" She gets up and goes behind the bar to pick a mug for Thal. "That's news ta me."

"Aye, we're mercenaries," Thal says, sitting back and watching her, but not stopping her. "We get paid for all sorts of things. Used ta have a team specialized in investigative work, might still have some around with the skill fer it. If yer interested."

"Do ye do real estate too?" Melga serves Thal's drink. "Ye know, so ye can find me a place to stay out o' Ironforge, once things calm down?" She then serves a second one for herself, emptying the bottle. "Tha' may be a good solution, what yer sayin'. I heard those Cobalts are pretty good."

Thal accepts the drink, served in his own family pub, his own mug, his own bottle of mead, and takes a swig. "I could no' say, but I could ask for ye. I do know some folks who joined up and had sorts of problems sometimes stayed in HQ for a bit — they've cots there. But that's here in Ironforge, so might no' help."

"And I got ta find a job later, because I won't have all my pa's money anymore," Megan sighs. "And what? Can ye imagine. I go somewhere and say 'Hello, I'm the daughter of tha' corrupt senator ye probably hate. Can ye hire me?' I probably need ta find a place to live outside of Ironforge, I do."

"Ye could head up to th' Highlands?" Thal says, stroking his beard in thought. "The Wildhammers likely don't care about the Senate an' their scandals, and I've… there's a lass I fancy up that way, with Cobalt. So I have contacts in the area."

"Ye'll have ta tell me more about tha' lass when I don't have my potential death on my mind," Melga says, taking a swig. "I don't really see myself in th' Highlands, but we have many other options, right?"

"Oh, aye," Thal says readily, taking a swig. "And I'd be happy ta tell ye about Oranna one day, when ye're more in the mood for romance an' mystery an' adventure. Let's see… anywhere but Ironforge'd probably no' block ye on account o' yer father. There's the Wildhammers, but ye could also go ta Stormwind, or even zip on o'er to Darnassus or some such. What kinda job ye think ye'd look for?"

"I dunno," Melga shrugs. "Somethin' easy and well paid," she nods. She's made that decision. That's the job she wants. "Not in a bit city, and not in tha wilderness either. Somewhere in the middle, ye know?"

"Mayhap… work in a tavern in a village?" Thal suggests. "That'd be safe and quiet and the work is not too hard. Ye could ask my ma about it."

"Ye know, I like my drinks," Melga finishes her drink and pours herself another one. "Doing somethin' with tha' sounds fun!"

"It's more servin' than drinkin', but aye," Thal says with a smile, rustling his mustache. "As fer well-paid, it may depend on yer definition, but… I'll see if my ma can ask around, find ye a good spot? An' in the meantime, ye can stay up in the spare room, an' I'll reach out to ye for Cobalt if ye need. I can bring folk 'round here ta talk with."

"What do ye mean, it depend on yer definition?" Melga's eyes widen. "I'll take the spare room, aye, thank ye for the help. I'll take people ta talk to, aye, I like talkin' ta people." Melgan takes another bottle and mixes it with her current drink. She's making cocktails now. "But I canna take a job tha' just pays well 'dependin' on yer situation'…" (modifié)

"Well, I jus' know ye've likely got a different idea o' paid well," Thal winces, and takes a gulp of mead. "It's no' goin' to pay like an illicit deal wi' organized crime-sters made by politicians, say. But the folks who've worked a' the Dragon don't seem ta complain. And I'd wager ye'll get a fair few tips."

"I better get good tips, I'm quite lovely, I am!" Melga sighs. "Maybe I should start workin' with criminals ta make sure I can keep livin' the life I've been livin'." From her tone, it's unclear if it's a joke or not

"I would no' recommend," Thal says with a laugh. What a funny joke, Melga. "The straight an' narrow might pay less at first, but it's worth it no' to hafta worry about things like now. Sketchy folk comin' after ye."

"Ye right" Melga sighs loudly. "So, how comfy is tha' spare room, lad?" Melga picks up the two bottles and grabs her mug with her teeth. "Am goin' ta che'" Melga moves away from the back of the back of the bar, and towards the stairs.

"Right comfy, far's I could tell ye," Thal says, watching her head off with more mead in tow. "An' if not, ye can complain in the mornin'. Jus' remember, hangover's not the fault o' the room."

"Am immune ta tha'" Melga speaks, the mug still between her teeth. "'ome on, let's shee ta tha' 'oom" (modifié)

Thal sighs and climbs to his feet, his own half-empty mead mug forgotten. As he moves away, he drops a few coins on the bar, muttering something that sounds a little like I'll clean it up later. "It's up a few flights," Thal says, following her. "I'll show ye the place, and the bathroom, and then leave ye and yer mead ta get settled in."

Melga nods, spilling some of the mead of her mug on the floor. She mutters something that sounds a little like Ye can clean it up later too.

Thal rolls his eyes and makes a long-suffering sigh, but there's a smile on his face, too. "Alright, Melga. Don't ye worry. Ye're among friends now."