In the evening, Jess didn't find Grit at his rental, so he went to the "Pig and Whistle" tavern in the old town district.

He knew Grit often drank here, not just Grit, many veterans of the Dark Portal war, as well as immigrants from all over the world who came to Stormwind, liked this place.

The Old Town, or East District, was also one of the best-preserved areas during the war, hence it also became the base for reconstruction work.

Countless laborers and merchants lived here during the early stages of the reconstruction, which elevated the "Pig and Whistle" tavern to its current high status.

Sure enough, upon entering the tavern, he saw Grit sitting in the corner drinking, always in that corner, always with that large mug of ale, Jess had grown accustomed to it.

Grit still stared blankly at his empty mug, his expression solemn and serious, as if his eyes were blinded by the mug.

Jess approached and said, "Grit, I have something I need to talk to you about."

"Talk, anything." Grit belched, making one wonder if a half-dead dragon lived in his belly, which caused a few girls and lads who were laughing heartily next to them to lower their voices and sneak glances over.

Jess frowned and moved a little further away.

"I have something quite important to tell you, it's about tomorrow or the day after... Are you sober right now?"

"Of course, I'm sober. Listen," Grit's eyes slowly turned and fixed on Jess's eyes.

Jess felt increasingly uncomfortable under his gaze, knowing something not so good was about to happen.

Grit took a slow breath, opened his mouth unnaturally wide, and suddenly recited loudly in an unnatural voice.

"The warriors of Wildhammer are top-notch, elves and trolls are beaten down. Can't find the elf's mother, those trolls are all beaten down! One to the left, one to the right, two in a sentence. Two trolls with four eyes, four teeth pointing to the sky, beat one after another, all beaten then go home!"

After the "defining poem" was finished, Grit became the focus of the entire tavern.

It took Jess a long while to recover, he coughed awkwardly, waiting for Grit to refocus his attention on his mug, returning to the dazed state from before.

As the tavern's atmosphere thawed back to its previous liveliness, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Grit mumbled something, but Jess couldn't hear it clearly.

"What?"

"I said, perfect."

"What's perfect."

"This poem, I recited it perfectly."

"This counts as a poem? Did you make this up just now?"

"Stop it, I'm not that talented."

"What, talented?" Jess was taken aback, realizing the topic had shifted.

He tapped the table with the knuckle of his index finger to draw the dwarf's attention back, saying, "Seriously, now. I got a money-making job on hand, are you interested?"

"Honestly, not much interest, because I'm planning to join the Warrior Guild," Grit said. "They found me, offer a fixed salary, and stuff to do. Probably rounding up wanted criminals, clearing wolves in farms. Stormwind's guard force isn't enough these days, bandits, orcs, gnolls, heard that the murlocs by Crystal Lake got a new leader, everything's a mess, this Warrior Guild thing, I think I could give it a try."

Seeing Grit planning to find back his passion for fighting, Jess felt awkward bringing up his own matter.

But the dwarf quickly added, "But now, most members of the Warrior Guild are pretty old, along with a few Bronzebeard lads. Many have their families, their lives to live, they can't force everyone to work full-time, even if I join, I could still find my own work. Maybe you should talk, Jess, let's see if your job is appealing."

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Jess, hearing him say this, said, "I'm planning to go out of the city to gather herbs and sell them for money, how about it?"

"Gathering herbs?" Grit frowned and asked, "Isn't that something women and elves do?"

"Aren't your girls the same as the guys here?" Jess lowered his voice, making sure there were no female dwarves nearby, then said, "So the guys here should still gather them, no one would say anything."

He then briefly talked about the prices offered by an alchemy merchant in the Mage District for the herbs. Hearing this, the dwarf slammed the table and stood up, facing Jess across the table, he shouted, "Really?"

"What Warrior Guild, it's just a senior citizen's club!" Grit yelled towards the bar, "Miss, bring me another dark one! Ironforge's is okay too!"

After yelling, he slowly sat down, pondered for a while, then asked with a lower voice, "But it might be quite dangerous, right? With so much money. And do you know about gathering herbs? You're so young, could it be that you learned herbalism in Lordaeron? Not that I don't believe you, it's just… well, mainly, I don't quite believe you."

Is this guy really sober, babbling so much nonsense.

Jess helplessly stared at the dwarf struggling to keep his eyes open for a while before saying quietly, "Look, even the herbalism master believes me, willing to buy my herbs, and even shared the purchase price with me. What makes you not believe me, Grit, isn't gathering herbs women's work over there? You, an old man, are completely an outsider."

"That's also true, but I'm not old."

"Sure, a young man. Once we're out, we'll work together, I'll find the herbs, then we both deal with any trouble we might encounter, mainly you of course, your value as a former Gryphon Rider is definitely enough. In the end, we'll split the earnings from the herbs sold, how's that, you take seventy, I take thirty."

"That doesn't sound too good," Grit suppressed his laughter, embarrassedly said, "Considering you know more about gathering and have the contacts, yet you're giving me the larger share, fifty-fifty is fine."

"I do have my own agenda," Jess explained, "Royal blood herb, and the most expensive one, graveyard moss, I need them for myself, can't sell them."

"So that's it, seems fair," the dwarf said.

"And if we could find evil claws, I'd like to keep them too," Jess added.

"Evil claws, you mean those ominous beast nails engulfed in necrotic aura?"

"You know?"

"Of course, trolls like using those for alchemy, smear it on weapons and it inflicts terrible curses, those wicked shadow hunters once touched a dwarf's skin might cause incurable festering, eventually leading to disability or death, wicked indeed."

"Learned something new."

"That's right," Grit snickered, asking, "Where do you plan to go?"

"Crow Ridge."

"Crow Ridge?" Hearing this place, the dwarf hesitated and said, "Isn't that too far? It might take a week for a round trip."

Jess said, "If we want graveyard moss, that's the only place. We'll make a quick trip, not wasting time on the road. If lucky, four to five days should be enough. Don't forget I still need to return and work for my mage boss. He's out on some business, might return within a week, I need to report to him, it won't take too long."

"Now the problem is, do we take the route through Redridge Mountains to Grandstown, or do we detour to the west to Crow Ridge? What a hassle, why can't we just cross Elwynn Forest and Naffiniti River directly to Crow Ridge?"

The dwarf's finger traced an arc in the air, saying, "Unless you can fly over."

Jess thought, Stormwind doesn't have griffon service yet, barely enough for human dwellings, let alone griffon nests.

He hadn't seen a real griffon up close since arriving in this world, not even in Lordaeron, wondering if the griffon masters in the game capitulated to the game mechanics as "teleportation points."

"Then, let's detour to Sentinel Hill," Grit said. "Heard that the valley road between Redridge Mountains and Grandstown is often occupied by gnoll tribes, breaking off for days at a time. The west is safer, even the church's people don't go that way."

"Then Sentinel Hill it is, I'll take your word for it," Jess said.

The dwarf shook his mug, saying, "Shall we make a stop at Moonbrook? Could do some resupplying there, heard their pork liver pies are twice as good as Stormwind's."

Jess helplessly said, "That could delay us a whole day, with carriage fees, road tolls, and pies... Grit, that's too expensive."

"Alright, anything else?" the dwarf asked, "Like preparations before we head out."

"A big enough bag, needs to be sturdy, preferably waterproof," Jess said. "The ones sold in town are too small and expensive, got any good suggestions?"

"My travel bag is a hemp sack woven by folks back home, sturdy enough and cut-resistant. Carried it from my homeland here, carrying weapons without a tear, and it's somewhat waterproof, as long as you don't soak it too long should be fine. Most importantly, it's big, I think it could hold a few dozens of pounds of herbs."

"That's enough, absolutely enough," Jess said. "Also, don't pack too much, it'll slow us down. And, it's our first time out, we might not accurately identify, probably won't find that many herbs."

"Pack the ones that look alike, let the experts pick!" Grit asked, "So when do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning?"

"How about the afternoon, I've booked a fight here with the folks from the Warrior Guild tomorrow morning, let them see what I'm made of."

"Aren't you not keen on joining the Warrior Guild anymore?"

"Joining the Warrior Guild is one thing, the fight is a must, my little Jess. Will you come to see your big brother show off his skills tomorrow?"

Jess saw Grit clenched his fists, as if holding back from shaking.

"No problem, I'll definitely come. Speaking of which, you always call me little brother, say you're the big brother, how old are you? I've never asked."

"I'm about 60 this year, should be 64, calling you little brother, you're not at a loss, right?"

"You're young? I… you…"

"What's with me, what's with you, don't apply your age standards to us. Ironforge's Muradin was over 200 and still fought in the Battle of Blackrock Mountain, I say he's in his prime. The Bronzebeards might not do much, but they sure live long! Of course, we're not far behind."