Flynders stomped about his home in Ironforge. His stumpy dwarven legs made the room reverberate with the strength in them. He is one of the most impatient warriors in The DarkSiders guild. And as guildmaster, it was not a good trait. He was stomping about so much that he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings, a mistake that promptly puts him on his arse as he walked right into a big blue hunter, Airholen.
“Och! Yer here. And you scaley friend too”, Flynders says as he eyes Gozera, a raptor. “Ya ready for this?”
“No.” Airholen looks about at the rest of the guild.
“Too bad, this is yours now.” Flynders turns to the others in the room, “Blah de blah de blah. Long and short, He’s in charge. I am not. So bother him now and leave me alone. Here’s the keys, and enjoy. Bye.” And with that the red headed dwarf practically runs out of the place and onto the main thoroughfare in Ironforge.
Airholen looks down at the keys to the guild bank vault. He then looked back at the various faces in crowd. All of the races of the Alliance were represented. And every eye was looking at him. Gozera swishes her tail, sensing the uneasiness in Airholen.
“So, I don’t know if you know me. But you can approach me at any time for anything you need. I will take some time to figure out what I am going to do with the guild. I am open to suggestions. I don’t have anything else, so thank you.” Airholen looked about the crowd hoping to break room from the apparent frost nova affecting the group.
After just a few moments, the ice breaks and everyone rushes him to shake his hand, introduce themselves and make their suggestions.
After many hours the last of the people left and Airholen was alone. He was overwhelmed by the acceptance that he had received and the suggestion that was given. He walked to the gryphon master to catch a ride to Stormwind. He had tailors to meet with because he hated the guild Tabard and wanted to change it.