Late that night, Lau's fleet returned to port, one ship after another.
Bright moonlight spilled across Freehold's valley, its cool glow reflected on the water. Suddenly, a black reflection flashed past, racing toward Spire Tower.
The gray wooden door stood ajar, and clattering rang incessantly from inside the old, green sheet-metal house.
"What are you looking for?" A sharp, raspy voice rang out, and the old Orc stopped what he was doing.
Zuluhed tucked the pale yellow parchment into his clothes and surveyed his surroundings warily.
"Who's there?" Zuluhed growled, a mass of scorching lava springing to life in his rough palm.
The wizard in long black robes pulled back his hood, revealing pale blue skin and long, blue-black ears.
"Old friend, we met in Sailor Town." The long-eared wizard took a robe from his bundle and held it out to Zuluhed.
Zuluhed stepped back, baring his tusks as he stared fixedly at the long-eared, blue-skinned creature.
"A Zandalari Troll? Why are you helping me?" Zuluhed asked, looking doubtfully at the robe shimmering with an eerie purple glow.
The Troll shook his head and smiled. "The prophet told us that the more friends we have, the stronger we become, and the better our chances of victory."
"He's up there! Hurry!"
"I saw him enter the harbor earlier..."
Hearing the commotion from the pirates down the mountain, Zuluhed snatched the purple robe from the Troll's hands.
"Careful. That robe was blessed by Shadra, the Loa. Damage it, and you won't be getting away."
Zuluhed put on Shadra's robe, and faint white threads wove the old Orc into the shadows.
The Troll expertly guided Zuluhed behind Spire Tower and along the narrow cableway toward North Mountain, until they reached a small inlet behind the mountain.
A clear whistle sounded, and a small