The busy port town of Booty Bay was full of life and all the assorted sounds that came with a bustling town. The blacksmith’s hammer could be heard ringing against his anvil up and down the docks for quite some distance and all around merchants shouted about their wares in order to draw a glance from a fool to easily part from their gold. There were of course more subtle merchants to be found if you looked hard enough in Booty Bay. Women of all walks of life and all races posed subtly up against railings or with their backs to a building’s walls. There was no uniformity among any of them, no mark that explicitly said what their trade was but they were of course joy girls, prostitutes looking to make a living on their back.<br/><br/>Aine Nightwhisper did her best to get lost in all the sights and sounds of the city even though the well traveled Night Elf had been to the port city many times before. As she walked down the long, rickety and unorganized decks towards the only exit (and entrance) to booty bay on foot she closed her silvery eyes and just let her feet do their work, putting on booted foot in front of the other without a care in the world.<br/><br/>To most she probably looked little better than some vagabond , some aimless individual without a place to call home. Her armor was sturdy and simple, lacking in ornamentation and emphasizing function over form. The woman wore a breastplate of hardened leather, the thick plates dyed black and clearly well taken care of despite their obvious age. Only her side seemed to favor any extra protection beyond the simple leather breastplate. A rough leather pauldron protected her shoulder while a few simple guars ran from bicept to wrist to provide her with some measure of protection against glancing blows ,though by looks alone it was clear any of her armor would turn a direct hit aside. At her side was a worn leather satchel dyed a dark brown that had definitely seen better days. It was stuffed full with provisions and other such things and weighed heavly down on the Kaldorei’s shoulder.<br/>The most curious thing about the Kaldorei however was her complete lack of conventional weapons. Unlike the other mercenaries and adventurers filtering through the busy streets of Booty bay she was totally unarmed aside from the sturdy wooden quartersave she carried laid across her shoulders, letting her arms rest over either end.<br/><br/>The sun had risen high overhead by the time the elf made it out to the caravan and though she was used to heat the humid heat of the coastal city was almost too much to bear compared to the dry heat of the barrens. Sweat pours down her face as she walks towards the idling wagons, beads of liquid dripping down her nose and neck and falling to the dirt. When she does at last draw towards the main wagon she notices that her and one other had only arrived so far. Her new comrade seemed to be a rather curiously armored draenei , taking care of an axe of all things.  She tilted her head  curiously as she watched the blue skinned woman tend to a blade that already looked sharp, at least to Aine’s sharp eyes. Axes were normally barbarian weapons or the weapons of peasants, what in the world was a Draenei doing with one?<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>