It turns out basing one’s life on impulsive, some would say desperate, decisions lead to awkward, unplanned scenarios. Specifically camping out in the Ironforge family mines while they continue to excavate the ore. Surprisingly, sleeping in the cool maw of a cave loses its glamour quick. It was routine for Alric to wake with a crick in his neck and his cloak soaked through. He was really coming to regret charging straight to the mines in exuberance and forgoing basic preparations like say a bedroll. That wasn’t too bad, as Alric got used to the terminal aches and pains inside of a week.

No, the worst bit was the incessant racket. Alric didn’t think the screeching impact of metal pickax on stone would ever leave his dreams. The sound was like the constant wailing of orphans in the wake of a war, which wasn’t far from the truth in the iron’s case Alric supposed. It hung in the air with the impenetrable density of a fog, forever reminding Alric he shouldn’t be here. Having to shift his meditation location to move around stray miners lugging sacksful of ore back to the surface only worsened this feeling.

Alric felt himself sigh morosely like so many tragic heroes in cheesy bard’s tales. His life was charging ahead in a direction that was not conducive to hopes and dreams. He turned his gaze from the smattering of stones laid out before him to the rocky coastline beyond. Just couldn’t beat the view a cliffside mine brought. Probably the best part of this whole poor life decision package if Alric was being honest with himself. Honesty at least came easier and easier to him as of late. The kind that held the strength and danger of a poisoned blade.

Alric forced his mind to divert from that particular line of thought, instead choosing to ponder the history of the mines themselves. It was fairly useless all things considered, mainly half-remembered boyhood lessons on family history. The mines had been a gift by an aspiring merchant family as they relocated to Baymuth. They’d wanted grandpa to make them a sword or some such. Something to show off not only their power but fabulous wealth as well. Merchants were weird like that.

It was a force of will to bring himself back to work. Tearing away his eyes from the majesty before him, Alric remembered what had him so despondent just moments prior. The mound at his feet was… pathetic. It couldn’t even be called a mound quite frankly, it was a fist full of dull pebbles scattered before his crossed legs, occasionally twinkling with a whisper of metal. It represented the past two weeks of back-breaking work. It was less than even the laziest miner found inside of an hour. Lords above, Alric couldn’t even tell if what he gathered was even iron. Alric was a blasted failure. As a miner. As an earth elevated. As an Ironforge.

With a meaty thump, Alric slapped himself. Now was not the time to give up. He had already had enough self-pity to last a lifetime in these past few months, now was the time to work. Nameday was fast approaching and Alric would need to make sure he didn’t embarrass Pa by not living up to the Ironforge name. Alric spit out the pooling blood in his mouth and took a deep breath. Simple, just calmly and naturally breathe in and out. Alric closed his eyes and focused on his breathing like so many times before. The weight of the wind escaping from his nostrils, gently warming his cool body. The feeling of fullness as he sucked in a new body of frigid air into his mouth. The gentle rocking of his chest as the cycle continued. There was so much involved in breathing that Alric didn’t even register the rest of the world melt away. He could still hear the crashing of waves and feel the cold stone pressed against his skin, but it was somehow disconnected from him and his breathing.

Easing his attention ever so gently, to maintain this fragile disconnect from the world around him, Alric became increasingly aware of the solitary stone in his palm. The once cold stone was radiating the disconcerting warmth that all things hold after prolonged contact. Despite the small stature, its heft was surprising. Could certainly give someone a bad day by chucking it at them. Come on, now is not the time. Focus Alric, focus. Maybe he just needed to come at this from a different angle? Alric tried to think about the stone as a piece of earth, a piece of the bigger puzzle. A small microcosm of the grand Colossi mountains, tales of Silvar, the Shining City, stood at the forefront of his mind. The holy ground of all smiths carved within one of those very mountains.

Oh, how badly he wanted to be back at the forge. There Alric at least felt competent, like nothing else seemed too. The siren call of ringing iron as he worked it felt ever stronger in his blood. Reminding him of days long past, of times spent with Pa and even Erin as they taught him to better understand the secrets of the fire-spewing monstrosity, they dedicated their lives too. However, try as he might, Alric just couldn’t seem to relate all that desire and memory to the dumb rock before him. Why would this random scrap of metal relate to them at all? Not like it was anything special, high court he pulled the damn thing out with a pick itself.

Alric felt his grip had subconsciously tightened around the stone in his palm, the fragile disconnect wavering as the world was threatening to crash in. Forcing his heart to calm, Alric once again focused on his breathing. Once he felt like everything was back in hand, he tried yet another angle. Not like he hadn’t exhausted all these lines of thought over the last few days. Stop that, positive thoughts. Why was he doing this all anyways? Sure, it was something everyone was obsessed with, but why did that matter to him any? What was the point of struggling against the burden of it all when deep down he knew it wouldn’t change how much fun he had with Danny or the love he felt for his family? Lords above, there was a blasted magical potion for just this thing, and Alric wasn’t slow-witted. He understood the cost of that poisoned chalice of a long and happy life was forever ensuring he would never be some special, someone great. Like a hero in a story. Blast it all, he just wanted to be a man like his Sis always told him to be. To make her proud. More than that, he wanted to have stories of his own, to tell tales of his adventures to her late into the night. To be more than the naïve brother that needed protecting from the world at large.

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The walls came crashing in and Alric welcomed it. Anything to distance himself from the black abyss that was his mind at that moment. He felt the cool mist of the sea on his face once again. In a fit of anger, Alric launched the stone in his hand into the sea beyond. The far-off caw of gulls playing a soothing melody of chaos for his soul. His eyes drank in the picturesque view once again. It was far more than just a blue sea, with the frothing green tides and chunks of ice from the area surrounding Vigil Falls mixing into a tapestry of grandeur. It was the one area that didn’t freeze over in the winter, the riptides making short work of any frost that attempted it, perpetually causing havoc in the seacoast along the northeastern tip of Cyruth, giving Northrend its name. It takes a lot for a boy born in a port city to not learn even a touch of sailing knowledge.

Even now Alric could see the same unfortunate end for some boat into the distance. It wasn’t too common an occurrence to be completely mundane, mostly the result of some merchant trying to make some quick suns by resurrecting the ancient shipping lanes that are conveniently untaxed. Never once thinking to understand why every other merchant hasn’t done the same thing. Only the few merchant families that have been making the trip for generations even bother and they’re not exactly strutting around all rich and powerful, are they? Blasted merchants, Alric would never understand them.

Now these poor sailors, if they could be even called that, only ever having made journeys up the Norun River’s gentle waves of are now faced with the true fury of Lady Sea. All at the behest of some greedy spawn of Lord Pompous that is probably enjoying a drink at their sheer brilliance. Didn’t even supply them with a proper ship, instead, they have a wide-bottomed river barge that only a maniac would brave these waters with.

Lords, Alric never truly realized how powerful the eponymous Northrend tides were, only being told how strong they are. Having their force witnessed firsthand painted the stark danger of nature in his mind. Appearing only like insignificant ants to Alric, he watched them scurry desperately for the rigging as if that would save them from the waves battering their raft. The tides slowly grew in their ferocity, threatening to capsize the ship as Alric stood on in macabre fascination, too shocked to move. The wiser of the sailors were mirroring Alric, choosing to abandon hope and seek solace in the high court. At least that’s was how Alric chose to interpret the frantic shaking of bodies just before the riptides finally pulled the boat into their depths.

Alric was ashamed by how just electrified he was. His heart beating as loud in his chest as he just watched some innocent men die. However, he couldn’t deny the sheer power he just witnessed, the true force of the sea. Being able to take down those who take no head against your warnings find themselves overwhelmed. It felt like the closest Alric had ever come to experiencing what it must be like to cross one of those heroes in the stories. Sis always said a true man hides his strength and uses it when necessary. It was just awe-inspiring.

As if possessed in a fervor, Alric found himself once again meditating with the rock in his hand, desperate to grab something even resembling a fraction of the force he just witnessed. He felt his breathing ever so cautiously still, with the blanket of darkness enveloping him once more. It was strange though; he could’ve sworn the tides weren’t so loud in his ear previously. Try as he might, Alric attempted to focus on this new pebble in his grasp but it just seemed so lacking…

The tides called to him like an old sailor, kept pulling his mind from iron onto just the magnificence of it all. Alric kept replaying the scene of the tides repeatedly in his head. Feeling the misty seafoam still on his face and hearing the crash of tides only fueled his daydream farther. It felt strange to be envious of some water, but Alric was. It just showed the inevitability when facing something as grand as the sea, of the force of the waves perpetually crashing into you before finally you break and get sucked under by the riptides. It was a kiss of death, breaking your will then sucking the air from your very lungs. Lords above, Alric wished he could be so strong, so confident as to have everyone else he faced feel that same inevitability as facing the tides.

Finally, everything just seemed to click in an odd way, as if Alric’s newfound obsession with the tides just felt right physically. The shroud enveloping him was ripped away in a burst of light, causing everything to go blank. Alric’s mind shuddered as he couldn’t even begin to comprehend the feeling of just everything he got from that light. He couldn’t even feel his body anymore or tell the passing of time, all of it seemed to just pale in comparison to the might against his being. Just when he felt the edges of his consciousness give in to the light, it disappeared. Once again Alric was sat cross-legged at the mine entrance with the Vigil Falls laid out before him. However, he felt different, like he was bursting with energy. It left just one thing on his mind

What in the high court just happened?