The carriage ride back to Stormwind took another two days. When Jess stepped down at the freight station beside the small square in the Trade District and looked at the crowds coming and going along the street, he felt as though he had finally returned to civilization.

After the exhausting journey, with half-healed wounds still covering their bodies, neither of them wanted to rush off and sell what they had gathered.

They agreed to rest for the morning and meet outside the Gilded Rose that afternoon, then went their separate ways. Gred took the burlap sack containing the weapons, while Jess carried the herbs and the warlock's small leather pouch.

After five or six days in an inn, Jess found his tiny rented room strangely unfamiliar when he returned.

It was only about forty-five to fifty-five square feet, perhaps only slightly larger than the bathroom in his previous life's home. A sloping eave cut away a large portion of the overhead space, and the bed was tiny too. At just under six feet tall, he could not even stretch out at night without his feet hanging over the edge.

Still, in an age resembling the Middle Ages or the Renaissance, the fact that an ordinary city laborer could have a private room like this far exceeded anything Jess had imagined.

He had expected to spend years after arriving in Stormwind sleeping in a communal bunkhouse with a dozen other people. In reality, he had lived that way only during the hardest early period, when he stayed in a tent outside the city gates. After some basic clearing and planning, the Old Town could accommodate many migrant laborers, and once reconstruction of the new districts was largely complete, housing became much easier to find.

In the end, he had even managed to rent a little room of his own.

That was why he had never complained about how cramped it was.

Soon, he would be able to move into the Mage Quarter. Apart from the Garden District where the nobles lived, it was the most beautiful—and most expensive—part of the city. Stormwind University, a place Jess had never seen in the game, stood nearby. The surroundings truly left nothing to be desired.

At the thought, Jess began to look forward to his future life... Oh, right. He still needed to see Eden Malin!

He wondered whether his employer had returned from Redridge yet. While Jess and Gred had been resting in Goldshire, they had heard that the roads from Elwynn Forest to Redridge had recently been plagued by gnoll attacks. Could his teacher still be stuck there?

Jess went down to the canal and washed himself thoroughly. At the pond near Goldshire, he and Gred had hurried for fear that kobolds—or something else—might ambush them. They had merely rinsed off the stench of several bathless days spent scrambling through the wilds. Only now did he finally have time to clean himself properly.

The bridge over the canal still had not been repaired. A group of young women crossing the temporary wooden bridge covered their mouths and giggled at the naked young men bathing below.

Jess had grown used to that sort of attention. Of course, amid all the young men eagerly showing off their muscles, he hardly stood out.

His thoughts were on the warlock's pouch. When he went to the Mage Quarter later, should he give the scroll to Malin?

What would he do if Malin asked where it had come from? Tell him the whole story? Who would believe it?

And what if the scroll contained something excessively evil and admitting his involvement landed him in trouble?

He had to learn Orcish first, then find out what the scroll said.

The library ought to have reference books on Orcish. The war was over, and orc studies had already become a legitimate field of inquiry. Studying orcs was not black magic.

In particular, the position of the Alliance's former leader, King Terenas Menethil II of Lordaeron, was widely known. He believed the orcs should be regarded as intelligent beings rather than invading beasts, and that their culture and customs should be studied to prepare for future crises.

Dalaran, the intellectual vanguard of the human kingdoms, had not publicly opposed Terenas Menethil II's view. As Jess understood it, Archmage Antonidas, the leader of the Kirin Tor, also supported that position. Dalaran under his leadership had surely begun studying the orcs long ago.

The Wizard's Sanctum followed Dalaran's example in many respects. If the mages here knew anything about Dalaran's recent direction, they probably would not let themselves fall behind in this field either.

As for the two books, he absolutely could not hand those over. If they really contained the demonic tongue—or even dark magic—not only might the books be confiscated, but Jess himself could also land in trouble.

After bathing and changing into fresh clothes, Jess hurried to the Mage Quarter.

Eden Malin's door stood ajar. Amy had probably already been there. It was around eleven in the morning now, so she might have gone to class.

After several days without cleaning, dust had begun collecting in many places again. Even somewhere as clean as the Mage Quarter could not escape its curse.

Jess deftly rolled up his sleeves, laid out his tools, and began wiping down the table. He had not been cleaning for long when someone suddenly pushed open the door.

He turned to see Archmage Malin standing in the doorway with a sweet biscuit clenched between his teeth.

"Ah... Master Malin. You're back."

"I was delayed for a while. Why are you so late today?"

As Malin spoke, he walked behind the desk and sat down. He set a cup of hot tea nearby, took a small lump of sugar from a pouch in the drawer, and tossed it in. Then he opened his book to a page, held it down with a ruler, and stirred his tea with his other hand.

Jess stared blankly for a moment. "Didn't Miss Amy Malin tell you? I've been away for the past few days."

"Ah! So you only returned today? What a coincidence." Malin sat back and continued, "I only returned to Stormwind last night myself. The situation in Redridge is not promising. The gnoll tribes aren't just stirring up trouble in Elwynn Forest. Of course, that doesn't surprise me in the least—Redridge is their homeland, after all. They say the dwarves have found signs of gnoll activity around Loch Modan and Menethil Harbor as well. My guess is that after the Orcish Wars, both dwarves and humans were too badly battered to reclaim their old territories at once. That gave the gnolls a chance to make a resurgence."

"Will the kingdom send troops to eradicate them?" Jess asked. "The gnoll tribes in Redridge seem to be causing serious problems along the trade routes between the three towns."

Malin replied, "The Redridge garrison is already planning to deal with those monsters, but I don't know what the kingdom thinks of the new gnoll situation here in Elwynn Forest. They may continue hiring mercenaries and offering bounties for some time. The threat here is far less obvious than the one in Redridge, after all."

"What about the orcs?" Jess asked as he wiped down a bookshelf. "Haven't the orcs in Redridge come into conflict with the gnolls?"

"Ah, the orcs." Malin lifted his teacup and blew across its surface. "What do you suppose the Blackrock orcs are doing now?"

What were the Blackrock orcs doing now? Since coming to Stormwind, Jess realized he had never seriously considered the question.