Dechion of Be Nameless suggested this topic on Blog Azeroth on the first of this month. I'm a little late getting to it, but it was more than worthy of the three suggested posts, so here is my first one.
It is a cool misty morning in Shattrath City. It is early, and yet, everyone in town seems to be packing things up, fixing armor, sharpening weapons, and stocking up on supplies. Some are taking a last minute flit above town on their beloved winged mounts. I shiver, cold even under layers of robes and cloaks I was wearing, partly to save precious pack space, and partly to shield me from the cold of the long blimp ride.
My wyvern purrs as I scratch behind his ears. I toss the lead to his harness to the stable master, assured that he will be exercised and fed while I am away. I slip a few gold to the handler, just to be safe. The handler walks my zhevra to me, pats its rump, and walks off to tend to another mount.
We descend to the city, and make our way to the center. My packs carrying only the necessary supplies, I lead my mount through the portal to Undercity. Stepping out on the other side, the dank air makes me sneeze. I mount up and leave the Magic Quarter, narrowly missing a collision with a blood elf on a Kodo. I will never understand the draw of a larger mount. Past the throne room, my mount wends its way through the exodus and up to the steps of the blimp tower. I check my mount with the baggage, and walk up to the platform. Horde of every race lean on the rails, sit dangling their legs off the edge, cluster in groups chatting in hushed tones. I see a guild mate and wave, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. I stand next to the goblin engineer, tapping my foot, not from impatience, but to the tune of a flute someone is playing.
The blimp pulls up, and the land crew grab ropes thrown out by the flight crew, pulling it in to the platform. Securing the ropes, the engineer gives the call to board. I wait for the mad rush of the impatient to pass me by, then board as the engineer starts to unbind the moorings. The only space left to stand was near the entrance. I take it, knowing I will be bowled over by some over enthusiastic troll as I exit. Fishing a pencil from my shoulder bag, I open my travel log.
Day 1 - Travel to Northrend. Find a hostel. Send unnecessary items to Rowena. Find someone to work for. Take lots of pictures.
Day 2 -
Tucking the pencil into the travel log, I throw it over my shoulder and out of the blimp. You can't plan adventure. Sometimes you just have to go out and let it find you.