It was a balmy summer day in the tropical paradise of Zuldazar as Arjak watched a strange red ship sail into port. Foreign vessels were not an unusual sight these days, but he was always intrigued by the type of passengers they brought to his shores. With the onset of the Fourth War, soldiers of the Horde arrived in Zandalar by droves. After the war's end, however, the presence of military personnel was far less common. Grisly veterans were slowly replaced by privileged tourists, most of which were elves. Although many of his kin complained about them, he was more open-minded. Elves were good for business. Besides that, their women were easy on the eyes.
Finding a pillar to lean against, Arjak observed the passengers of the ship as they disembarked. Judging by their appearance, he could tell they were vacationers from Quel'Thalas. A few of them stopped to stare in awe at the great pyramid of Dazar'alor while the others dispersed throughout the city. Local merchants did not discriminate while seeking a profit from the naivety of foreigners. As a mercenary between jobs, he had no merchandise to offer, only a strong spear and keen intuition. Compared to the elves, he was a towering figure of hard primordial muscle. The quality of protection he offered could only be purchased at a premium.
On this day, however, Arjak was not looking for work. Having earned enough money from his last job to achieve financial security, he could finally enjoy a reprieve from risking his neck. Food, drink, and women: these were the pleasures of life that gave kept him going until Bwonsamdi claimed his soul. Luckily, all three could be found here.
After a few minutes, Arjak noticed an elven woman struggling to haul her luggage across the dock. Like most females of her race, she was conspicuously attractive. She wore a sultry beach outfit that was appropriate for the climate and complimented her voluptuous figure. Her lavish jewelry suggested she was accustomed to an affluent lifestyle. Altogether, the ensemble paired well with her long, platinum-blonde hair and lively tan acquired during her voyage. He quickly advanced on her and, gallantly, grabbed her bags. "Where ya be headed?" he asked.
"Who are you!?" the woman snapped back.
"Arjak. You?"
"Erisel... I have a reservation at Spirits Be With You."
Arjak nodded and continued carrying her luggage to the inn. "How polite! Thank you," she said with some relief as she tailed him. "I wasn't expecting this kind of hospitality on an island of trolls."
"First time in Zandalar?" he questioned.
"Yes... My husband thought it would be a good idea to vacation here. Sadly, he got seasick on the way and refuses to leave his cabin. I suppose I won't be having much fun until he gets over it."
"We'll see," Arjak uttered quietly.
"Do you know any good restaurants here? The food on the ship was rather bland."
"Of course, mon. Hope ya brought ya appetite."
"Oh yes... As a matter of fact, I think I'm in the mood for something exotic."
"Then ya won't be disappointed. By de time ya leave, ya nice n' stuffed."
"I like the sound of that! Perhaps you could show me around after dropping off my luggage."
"Sure ting, mon."
After a few minutes of walking, Arjak and Erisel reached their destination. As one of the nicer establishments in Zuldazar, the Spirits Be With You was often the preferred choice of travelers who could afford to spend a little more coin on luxury. It offered a spectacular view of the harbor and was home to a fine restaurant with exquisite Zandalari cuisine. He could have afforded to stay here, but never felt the urge to spend his hard-earned money on a room for just himself.
"This isn't so bad," Erisel stated as they drew closer. "I suppose you can't expect a Wayfarer's Rest all the way out here, but this will do."
After Erisel finished checking in, Arjak followed her to her room. Having never seen the interior before, he was highly amused by the clichéd decoration. The bed was much larger than he imagined and he deduced it was sturdy enough for activities other than sleeping. Without as much as a partition separating them from the rest of the inn, it lacked much in the way of privacy, but fortunately, there weren't many guests milling around this time of day. He set the bags down as she explored the scene. "I love this aesthetic!" she chirped.
"Ya be needin' anyting else?" Arjak offered.
Erisel began digging through her purse. "No, but I suppose I owe you gratuity. How much would you say is appropriate?"
"I don't be wantin' ya gold."
A sympathetic frown appeared on her face. "I'm afraid I have nothing else to offer you."
"Sure ya do," he refuted as he began to purposefully walk towards her. He had decided to have her even before they had set foot in the inn. She may have been somebody's wife, but her marital vows meant nothing in Zandalar. A body like hers was made for breeding, and as a predator unto its prey, it was only natural for him to act on his instincts.
Noticing the troll's sudden shift in demeanor, Erisel blushed. "Oh, I'm afraid you have the wrong idea..." she demurred. Her half-hearted protest was hardly convincing, but she still upheld her posture as a loyal spouse. "I know primitives like you typically lack the nuances of properly courting a woman, but you're far below my station..."
