Shadow Trails in Azeroth

Chapter 526 79. Get a dwarf drunk and take him to the hotel [710]

"Woohoo, I found you, Dai Lin! As I expected, the perverted old man is hiding in his old lover's house."

In a dark alley in Dalaran, Blake was hiding in a corner, holding a small crystal ball in a vulgar manner, and what appeared on it was a scene from Fenner's perspective.

Apparently, the ring that the pirate gave to Finna contained a little bit of "harmless" "little magic" left by him.

Dean Lanyue, who was responsible for undoing the magic binding, understood it well and did not destroy it. Blake stared at the picture on the crystal ball, watching Fenner attack again and again, but Dai Lin used various techniques to resolve it.

He rubbed his chin and said in a strange tone:

"Old man, do you know that you are like a fitness coach who is working hard to sell classes, and you can't wait to show off all your warrior skills, and you must develop Fenna into your 'client', right?

It’s really hard for you to come up with such a solution and keep Fenner by your side.

Ah, the majestic king is really so humble.

In your current state, if I suddenly appeared, would you still give up your fleet in order to keep me?

Gee, empty nesters are so pitiful. "

With such a strange emotion, the pirate put away the crystal ball in his hand.

Judging from the current situation, Fenner's appearance can at least delay Dai Lin for a long time. This means that Blake no longer has to worry about an unexpected meeting with Dai Lin when he breaks into a tavern.

To be honest, as a king, he really needs to change his bad habit of going to taverns.

The pirate jumped into the shadows, quickly shuttled through the streets of Dalaran, and soon came to a weapons store called "Magic Weapons" on the edge of the Magic Commercial Street.

This is the gathering place for the dwarves in Dalaran.

These muscle sticks maintain the ancient tradition of unity, and wherever they are in the city, they always form a unique dwarven cultural area.

They don't like to go to human pubs very much, not because of complex reasons such as discrimination, but simply because they dislike human wine not being strong enough.

They claimed that it was a drink for women, and that a real man should try the dwarves' home-brew.

As far as the pirates knew, these drunkards even had a secret "Wine of the Month Club", which only attracted those truly generous drunkards to join. Ordinary drunkards could not even complete the entry-level assessment.

There were even reckless experimenters who were fooled by the dwarf's strong drink and their brains were burned out. They kept saying that they saw pink elephants and tried to capture a weird thing called a little flying rabbit with antlers.

The dwarves in the Wine Club have a drink called "Dragon P.I.E."

As you can tell from the name, this kind of wine can only be drunk by the most generous dwarf alcoholics and dragons. Compared with it, the dark iron spirit brewed by the Dark Iron dwarves from magma is not worth mentioning.

The pirate pushed open the door of the bar in the dwarf gathering area with ease, bent down and got in.

There was a grog party going on inside, and a large group of dwarves were shouting noisy words, cheering, and gulping down the dwarf grog they had just made from the barrel.

There were also some short guys who had drunk too much and were talking nonsense while holding wine barrels.

The entire dark bar was filled with the mellow aroma of strong liquor, making the drunken pirate's throat move up and down.

However, he quickly resisted his inner urge to become drunk, and instead of rashly joining the ranks of alcoholics, he began to look for his target in this noisy dwarf bar.

Soon, he found it.

"Hey, do you remember me?"

Black walked to the bar, picked up a drunk muscle stick and threw it on the ground, and sat on the chair designed for dwarves.

What a damn height!

He had to curl up his legs to sit on it.

Then he reached out and patted the shoulder of the dwarf next to him who was drinking a large glass of mead with his head tilted back.

This dwarf wears a hood and is dressed mysteriously, but he has a very beautifully trimmed golden beard, which is also braided, with three simple gold rings, one large, two small, and three at the bottom.

There are many dwarves with beautiful beards. They regard beards as a symbol of status, but there are very few dwarves with such pure beard colors.

This is a bronze-bearded royal family!

When the pirate put his hand on the shoulder of the dwarf who was drinking wantonly, the dwarf warrior who drank a large glass of mead with his head tilted up grabbed his wrist at lightning speed.

"Don't touch me, man. Whatever happens to you, wait until tomorrow. I belong to wine and revelry tonight."

Muradin Bronzebeard burped with a face full of alcohol. He threw Black's hand away, smashed the wine glass in his hand as big as his head on the bar, and shouted in Dwarf language:

"One more drink, no! Ten more drinks!"

"Well, that's a pity. I also wanted to share this bottle of wine with an old friend."

Blake took out a bottle of elf-style wine from his bag specially designed for wine, put it in his hand and caressed it gently like a treasure. He said:

"I found this from the ruins of Shandalar in Northrend.

It is a fine wine brewed during the Elves Empire, and it is conservatively estimated to be ten thousand years old. They use magic to seal the wine. I have to say that the upper elves are really good at having fun.

No one knows its name for a long time, I call it 'Azshara's wanton kiss'.

I hope the elves don't beat me up for the name. "

"Well?"

The dwarf prince, who had been very arrogant just now, now had his eyes widened, staring closely at the wine bottle in Blake's hand that glowed with amber arcs under the dim light.

Although Muradin was not good at archeology, he could still tell that the wine bottle was of true Highborne style.

This is probably the only advantage of having a younger brother who is a master archaeologist. Listening to Brian nagging about those damn things every day, Muradin can be considered a semi-expert.

As the pirate gently shook the wine in the bottle, the dwarf's eyes moved up and down with it, and his throat made an obvious swallowing motion.

A few seconds later, the legendary warrior said with a look of "surprise":

"Ah, isn't this my old friend Blake? The last time I heard from you was the last time, uh, I mean, you were quiet after the war.

I heard a crazy rumor some time ago, saying that you went to the high seas and became a pirate? "

"Don't listen to their nonsense, I am now a qualified spell caster."

Seeing that Muradin recognized him, Black also grinned and put the bottle of "Azshara's wanton kiss" into the dwarf's hand.

This meeting gift was so wonderful that the dwarf immediately grinned, patted the bar and said:

"Come on, come on, give my friend Blake a drink too. Use the biggest cup!"

"No need, I have something serious to do with you this time."

"Do you know the rules?

It is tradition that you have to drink a round of wine before talking to a dwarf, and you have to take the initiative to pay for the wine. It represents your respect for the dwarf. The more you drink, the more the dwarf will like you and the smoother things will go. "

"How come I haven't heard of this tradition?"

The pirate was embarrassed.

But then he shrugged, turned back and pointed at the dwarf in a tavern behind him, and said to Muradin:

"Just drink. Give them a share, each of us will have half. Whoever drinks them all down first will win. If I win, you have to help me."

"Are you serious?"

Muradin's eyes widened for a moment, and he said seriously:

"There are so many dwarf drunkards here, you will drink yourself to death."

"That's my risk."

Black curled his lips and said something, stretched out his hand towards Muradin, and said provocatively:

"If you give up, go back to Ironforge so that I can proudly claim that I have 'defeated' Muradin Bronzebeard."

"Shhhhhh! You big mouth!"

Muradin hurriedly raised his stubby fingers and made a silent gesture. He pointed at his hood and said:

"Didn't you see that I have put on a disguise? I am now Marshal Lothar's temporary guard. Running out to drink is a 'secret operation'. Don't publicize it."

"Come on, who can you fool with that iconic beard of yours? You're also pretending and operating in secret. Your pretentiousness is an insult to the word."

The pirate slapped the table and laughed:

"If all the assassins in the world were as 'good at disguise' as you, Ravenholdt would have finished playing the game long ago. Look at how hard your compatriots have endured, and they still have to cooperate with you in this 'disguise game'.

Is it difficult to find a mage to cast a temporary transformation spell on you?

Hurry, don't waste time.

I'm still busy. "

"Drink! Start now!"

Muradin put away his gift of wine, started the challenge with his own large wine glass, and gave the pirate a provocative look. Blake shrugged, took two large glasses of wine and walked towards the drunkards.

With the talent of "drunkard", he will not lose.

The only limit on how much alcohol a pirate can drink is the capacity of his bladder. And looking at the stature of the dwarves, we can tell that pirates also have an advantage in one aspect.

Two hours later, Blake, who was seventy percent drunk, helped Muradin, who was shaking when he walked, out of the messy dwarf tavern.

The legendary warrior muttered as he walked:

"You are a good friend! Black, I admit that I underestimated you. Your stomach is like a dragon, and your drinking attitude has conquered all dwarf drunkards.

You are a true hero among alcoholics!

But today I was not prepared enough. I had drunk a lot before you came, and you were defeated.

I won’t admit that I lost!

Next time you're in Ironforge, let's do it again, right here at the Thunderbrew Brewery, and I'll be calling all the drunkards of Khaz Modan as our guests. Hiccup. "

He burped loudly, pushed Blake away, rushed into the nearby trash can and started vomiting.

The pirate shrugged and rubbed his dizzy head. He knew that he would be extremely uncomfortable when he woke up tomorrow morning, so important things must be done tonight.

After Muradin vomited all the wine in his stomach, he was taken to the second floor of the Magic Hotel by Black, where the pirates had opened a private room in advance.

Of course not to do bad things.

"boom"

A simple box decorated with the Watcher's logo was thrown out by the pirates and hit the dizzy Muradin in front of him.

He bent down and opened the box, revealing the unquenched Moon God's Blessing Armor. He also made a "please" gesture to the legendary warrior next to him who was rubbing his eyes fiercely:

"This is what I want to ask of you."

Muradin's whole body was lying on the silver-gray armor. He stretched out his hand and touched the weird metal armor in front of him, as if he were stroking the skin of the most beautiful woman.

After a few seconds, he raised his head and said to the pirate:

"I suspect I drank too much. I have never seen the metal that makes up this armor! There is an indescribable power flowing on it, and it feels shocking.

But the style of this armor seems to be from the elves, and it’s a women’s armor. Where did you get it? "

"Don't ask about this."

Blake crossed his arms and said:

"I just want to know, can a skilled blacksmith like you modify its shape to suit my body shape?"

"It has not been quenched yet and can theoretically be modified."

Muradin touched the entire armor from beginning to end with his hands, frowned and thought for several minutes, and then said:

"But it cannot be changed drastically. Its design is something I have never seen before, and rash changes will destroy it. In addition, this is the conclusion I got after personally inspecting it.

The temperature of the magma at the core of Ironforge's great furnace may not be enough to quench it.

The quenching of this kind of magic armor is not just to improve the protective strength, it is more like a ritual, which perfectly combines the divine power in the armor with the armor itself.

It requires not only temperature, but also the weight of other external forces.

Or ask the divine power from the same source to slowly polish it over time until it is completely integrated with the divine power. Ironforge's furnace does not have this effect. "

"I'll think of a solution for quenching."

Black waved his finger and said to the dwarf:

"I just need you to help me modify its appearance. I know this is a difficult job, but there are only a few blacksmiths in Azeroth who can handle it. I don't want to take the risk of finding someone with poor skills."

"Well, that's a great statement. Professional work should be left to professionals."

Muradin gave a thumbs up.

The legendary warrior and blacksmith rolled up his sleeves and seemed to be planning to start working on the spot. Like the tailor, he also took out a tape measure and stood on a chair to measure Blake's body shape in a very professional manner.

"That armor is prepared for elves who are taller than you, so after the modification, there will definitely be more scraps, about one-tenth of the size."

The dwarf prince rubbed his hands, with a philistine expression on his bearded face.

He showed a generous smile and said:

"We are friends who have fought side by side, and I won't ask you for payment.

Give me those extra scraps. This unseen metal is what all blacksmiths pursue. Maybe I can modify it, add other metals, and make a weapon or something. "

"Ha, you greedy dwarf!"

Black raised his eyebrows under his helmet and said:

"I regard you as a friend, but you want to take advantage of me. Do you know how much effort I put into getting this suit of armor? It almost cost me my life.

It’s not that easy for you to say a few words and then want to take away part of it. However, if you do me one more favor, this matter is not non-negotiable. "

The pirate rubbed his fingers and said to Muradin:

"After some time, you come to Tol Barad Island to help me make something, and I will allow you to take away the scraps. But just like this time, keep it confidential!

Don't tell anyone.

You can’t even tell your relatives, especially your brother who has a big mouth! I believe in the credibility of the dwarves as solid as mountains, but to prevent you from doing something stupid, I have to tell you something. "

Black sat on the bed next to him and said to Muradin, who smelled of alcohol:

"Bryan Bronzebeard is currently on one of my ships, happily heading to a place outside civilization for archaeological excavations. There are many dangerous things there.

And I have some very reliable friends in that desert who can help your brother avoid a lot of unnecessary trouble. "

"You threatened me, you bastard."

Muradin suddenly became unhappy. The dwarf clenched his fists while puffing his beard and staring, intending to punch the stinky pirate, but Black spread his hands and said in a sincere tone:

"Trust me, I'm not threatening you, otherwise you would have seen a finger from old Brian right now.

Come on, Muradin, it’s impossible for a legendary warrior like you who has lived for hundreds of years not to know Ravenholdt’s style of doing things. Compared with them, I am much 'kinder'.

This is just a constraint.

Like I just said, this is to prevent you from doing something stupid.

And I'll pay you enough to satisfy you. Stop complaining, big blacksmith, and start working now. Come on, roll up your sleeves and work hard. "