Ringo of the Shattered Sun
Bael Flinthammer wouldn’t stop crying. Ringo looked at the child’s mother imploringly.
“Fine!” Beli said, throwing up her hands, “Let’s go back to the inn and put him down for a nap. It’s quieter in there.”
A female draenei stepped between the dwarves and their destination.
“We’ve taken Sun’s Reach from the enemy and our final victory is at hand,” she began, turning to jog after the couple and the crying baby, who had not broken step when she started speaking. “The cost was high and many brave combatants gave their lives so we could achieve this.
“It is my goal to ensure that those who perished in combat are not forgotten. I ask that you take a moment to consider making a donation …”
“Gave already,” Ringo said, wincing as a child sorely in need of a nap howled in his ear. “To yer assistant, or something.”
“We owe you everything, Beli. You have single-handedly shattered the Dragonmaw empire and gathered enough information to keep my brethren occupied for ten lifetimes … My kin have each offered to join you on your mission in Outland. Simply ask and they will bond with you.”
