“I’ve got a great ambition to die of exhaustion rather than boredom.”
– Thomas Carlyle
Green flowing hills, great food, mystical magic and delicious brews. As the young human walked into the bustling Halfhill market, he knew he was in the right place. This haven of travelers and merchants was the perfect hub for someone that was laying low and seeking retirement. If someone wanted to disappear, this would be the paradise to choose.
Of course, he wasn’t here for his own retirement. No, he had traveled halfway across the world because he had it on good authority that he would find a famous wizard here, one of the finest to ever walk the face of Azeroth.
Sionis Sepher, the Mage of Stormwind. That’s what they had called him.
There weren’t many soldiers left in Azeorth that had served in the number of active military campaigns as Sionis Sepher. According to what the Loremaster had gathered already, this mage had seen more action than any one person ought to face.
The Loremaster couldn’t wait to meet him.
He cut through Halfhill until he reached the Lazy Turnip, the small inn where his point of contact had told him to come when he arrived.
The small building was filled with the kinds of patrons one would expect, from dirty farmers to well-dressed merchants and even a few individuals that might be about some shady business. There was an old Pandaren in the corner of the room playing a strange instrument, though the music it created was pleasant enough.
“You there,” a woman’s voice cut through the noise. “You the Loremaster?”
He looked around, finally catching sight of a black and white Pandaren with a large dishcloth draped over her shoulder. She looked relaxed, but his arrival had clearly captured her attention.
“That’s right,” he said, making eye contact.
“Come on then,” she said, throwing the towel over the bar. “Let’s get you to Sepher.”
The Pandaren introduced herself as Lei Lan and guided him out of the Lazy Turnip’s back door. The two walked across the market square and out toward a farm at the edge of town. She pointed toward the small crops and the single house.
“That’s him?” The Loremaster asked.
“Yup. You can pay me after you talk to him if you want.”
“Oh, no, that’s fine,” the Loremaster said, reaching for his money purse. “Thank you.”
“Good luck,” Lei Lan said, pocketing the gold coins. “He’s a funny one.”
The Loremaster gathered himself and continued walking to the farm until he reached the small entryway. The door to the farmhouse was hanging open, but he heard no noise coming from inside. The house was small, more of a hut really, and there was no way someone could be in there without causing some kind of noise.
“Excuse me?” he asked, knocking on the open door. “Anyone home?”
“Over here,” a gruff voice called. “In the crop!”
The Loremaster turned and saw a man emerge from the rows of corn that were growing in the small plot of land. He was covered in dirt and sweat, wearing simple clothing and carrying a garden hoe. He was a far cry from the individual that the Loremaster had expected to find here.
“Are you… Sionis Sepher?” he asked, doubting himself.
“That’s me,” Sionis replied. “Who might you be?”
“Oh! Right,” the Loremaster said with a laugh, suddenly nervous. “I am actually… well I’m one of the Loremasters.”
“Nice,” Sionis said, changing his stance. “Is there something I can do to help?”
“I believe you can,” the Loremaster said with a chuckle. “Sionis, I’m here for your story, if you’ll let me have it.”
“A Loremaster,” Sionis said, tapping his hoe on the ground a few times. “You’re the group that goes around compiling history, right? The keepers of the books and all that. Hey, do they really make you give up your name when you get your title?”
The Loremaster frowned. “They do.”
“I’ve met a few Loremasters before,” Sionis continued. “Your work is admired.”
“Look, I’ll be blunt,” the Loremaster said. “I’ve traveled pretty far to find you. I would be very happy if you’d let me hear your story.”
“You came all the way out here to hear about me?” Sionis asked.
“Do you want me to talk about my farming?”
The Loremaster chuckled, “No actually,” he said, reaching into his pack and pulling out two small pieces of wood to show Sionis. They were nothing to the untrained eye, but for Sionis, they would be very important. “I was hoping you might talk to me about this…”
Sionis didn’t speak. He looked at the pieces of wood for a long time.
“Now that,” he said at last. “That is something I have not seen in a long time.”
“A wand, right?” the Loremaster asked.
“That’s right,” Sionis replied. “A wand with a special name.”
“Can you tell me the tale?”
Sionis shook his head, still captivated by the broken wand in the Loremaster’s hand. He finally met the man’s eyes and gave him a simple nod. “I’ll tell you, if you want to hear it.”
“I want nothing more,” the Loremaster said.
“Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ve got a few hours of work still and—”
“Actually, if you don’t mind… I’d like to start now,” the Loremaster pressed. “I can make us some food while you talk. I have a magical quill to take notes.”
Sionis raised a brow at the proposition. “You really want to start now?”
“I want nothing more,” the Loremaster replied.
“Okay, sure,” Sionis said. “Let’s do it.”
“Wonderful,” the Loremaster said, pulling his backpack off and starting to dig around for his supplies. He fumbled with several scrolls and unrolled one to confirm it had the Sepher family tree on it. That was where he wanted to start, after all. He handed it to Sionis, pulled his magical quill, and gave it a tap to get it started. “Excellent. Yes. Okay, let’s start with your family estate, shall we?”