Chapter 121: The Goblins' Crimes

By noon the next day, Jess no longer felt anything wrong with his body. Even so, he had to argue with the priest watching over him for quite a while. He even did a set of calisthenics on the spot before the priest finally agreed to let him leave.

He had planned to talk to Master Carlo Duchamp about the ship tickets yesterday, but practicing magic had cost him an entire day.

Jess hurried into the Blue Recluse, planning to grab something to eat before going to the Wizard's Sanctum to find him. As luck would have it, Duchamp was sitting right there in the tavern.

He sat by a window, reading with a cup of coffee in hand. He wore a plain white shirt and gray linen pants. With his short hair and stubble, both a little out of place in this era, he looked so much like a middle-aged office worker having coffee on an Italian street in the twentieth century that Jess almost forgot where he was. Only the distinctly medieval room around him spoiled the illusion.

"Master Duchamp," Jess said, approaching the table. "May I sit down?"

"Ah, Jess. Of course." Duchamp moved his coffee aside. "Well? Have you settled on a date with your friend?"

"We have." Jess sat and handed him the note Gred had written. "We're planning to take the Great Baladin Conqueror to Southshore on the seventeenth."

"I know that's a Steamwheedle Cartel ship." Duchamp slipped the note into his pocket. "That is possible, but do you know what the goblins did during the Orc Wars?"

Uh.

That was a blind spot for Jess. He had never paid much attention to the goblins, let alone what they had done before the game's timeline began.

As far as he knew, goblins generally leaned more toward the Horde in the game, but apart from the Bilgewater Cartel, most had remained neutral. They even conducted business in Alliance cities.

Seeing his blank expression, Duchamp explained, "Decades ago, the Steamwheedle Cartel took Blackwater Bay from the trolls and renamed it Booty Bay. It had originally been a human harbor before the trolls raided and seized it. Now it belongs to the Steamwheedle Cartel and the Blackwater Raiders. The cartel made it their new base, intending to control trade across half the continent.

"During the Orc Wars, they used Booty Bay to move supplies for the orcs. They gave them warship technology, maps of the whole of Stranglethorn Vale, and all sorts of other assistance in exchange for gold. And that gold was what Orgrim Doomhammer had taken out of Stormwind Keep's treasury.

"In other words, the wealth the Kingdom of Stormwind had built up since the Troll Wars helped the Steamwheedle Cartel expand at an incredible rate. They call it business. The Alliance calls it an act of hostility. If they hadn't offered a large payment toward reconstruction after the war and openly promised to help keep sea routes and cargo moving between Stormwind and the other kingdoms, Stormwind would have blown Booty Bay to pieces as soon as the kingdom recovered.

"But what does that change? The money they paid was Stormwind's property to begin with. No amount can make up for what they did. We'll have to judge them by their future conduct—and see just how hard they're willing to work for their reputation for 'neutrality.'"

Jess really hadn't known any of that. He had seen Steamwheedle banners when he first arrived in Stormwind and assumed the goblins must have close trading relations with the Alliance.

NovelPhoenix is the author's source for this chapter, though the copy shown here was made without their permission.

Well, the relationship was close. Economically, anyway.

"My friend spent days asking around the harbor," Jess said helplessly. "He didn't want to take a goblin ship either. There just wasn't another option."

Duchamp nodded. "I'm not saying you made the wrong choice. Right now, having a ship to board is the important thing. I only want you to be careful, Jess Seso. Those goblins will do anything for money. But I know the position you're in. I'll arrange it and send the tickets to your teacher, Master Marin. Don't worry."

"Thank you, sir," Jess said.

"By the way, Jess, there's something I haven't asked you." Duchamp took a sip of coffee. "Do you have some special method for learning Orcish? I know some wealthy noble families in Dalaran who buy up every orc book, document, and letter they can find to help their children learn the language quickly. But you... I don't imagine your family has that sort of money. No offense intended, of course."

Wait. Rich nobles in Dalaran were buying orc writings?

Then he wouldn't need to risk going to an auction in Booty Bay. He could sell that orc letter while he was in Dalaran.

And the damaged book... He could copy everything in it first, then sell the original to someone buying orc materials.

But the book contained Life Tap. If he sold it, wouldn't he be making the spell public? He didn't know whether the warlocks in Dalaran already knew it. If they did, there was no harm in selling it. But if they didn't... wouldn't he be handing over his own secret weapon?

On second thought, he couldn't sell that book so easily.

Before the Scourge invasion, warlocks in Azeroth—especially human warlocks—had developed very, very slowly. Human dark magic had only advanced rapidly after the Burning Legion demons summoned by the Scourge scattered across the world following their defeat.

That meant Jess had to be careful about spreading the valuable things he learned at this point in history. If he kept them to himself, his skills might pull ahead of those of other warlocks as quickly as possible.

The spirit of sharing? To hell with that.

"My family doesn't have much money," Jess said. "Just enough for everyday expenses. There's no way we could afford books like those. My parents are ordinary people. I've been learning Orcish mostly from library books and my own understanding. I think a lot of the students in class treat Orcish as a hobby, but I genuinely want to use it to find a well-paying job someday. Maybe that's my advantage."

After saying it, Jess swallowed without meaning to. He still wasn't very good at telling a complete lie with a straight face.

"So you believe those orcs left in Azeroth will be able to live peacefully alongside humans someday?" Duchamp asked casually.

"I don't believe that at all. Ha!" Jess gave two dry laughs. "If humans and orcs can live together in peace, will knowing Orcish still get me a high-paying job, Master Duchamp?"

Carlo Duchamp smiled. "Fair point."

When Jess left the Blue Recluse, he felt as though a major problem had finally been settled.

Standing in the garden below the Wizard's Sanctum, he looked up at the tall white tower and thought about Mage Armor.

His greatest obstacle to learning the spell was his limited mental stamina. He didn't know what the final result would be even if he had enough, but without breaking past that limit, he would never get a chance to find out.

Thinking back to yesterday's attempt, he had already felt tired after reciting about a third of the incantation. By the time he had reached two-thirds and was communicating with arcane energy at high intensity, he had been pushing himself through sheer effort.

By the standards he'd followed when practicing Arcane Intellect, he should have stopped at the two-thirds mark, or taken a mana potion and rested.

Instead, he'd rushed things. He had drained too much of his mana and fainted as a result.

Fortunately, there was no lasting damage. Marin had told him about plenty of people who had suffered irreversible consequences from overusing their power.

And then there was concentration. Jess knew his lack of confidence had made his mind wander several times during yesterday's casting. That must have hurt his chances badly.

Would staying completely focused let him finish the spell next time? Not necessarily. He doubted trying again so soon would go much better, and there was the danger to consider.

Since he was already standing beneath the Wizard's Sanctum, why not visit the library? Maybe he could find some other way to increase his mental stamina besides practicing spells.