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[Garrosh appeared in the forest. An unfamiliar but lush forest. It's clearly not Ashenvale and it's not any other one he's familiar with, but there's game to be found and it's pleasant. But it is also certainly not Durotar, he's alone, with no gear or weapon and his back is pain. Still, instinct drives him: the first thing an orc needs, be it on Azeroth or in Outland, is some sort of weapon. He scouts around for a sturdy looking branch and a sharp seeming rock to fashion himself, with an hour or so's work, a primitive spear. With this supplementing his eight foot tall, muscular (and tattooed) brown form, he's better off.

...Aside from the weird partial polymorph on his back. He doesn't know magic (at least no well), so while pride dictates he'd prefer not to have these wings, with no immediate implication the black things are a detriment to him and (from when he reached to try to tug on them) the realization that they are sensitive, he's resolved to ignore him until he can force answers out of a mage.

So, the massive but quiet (he is a skilled hunter, after all) man is now skulking in the forest. Both to find something to eat, and to find answers (being as how he ignored the journal at his feet originally, oops). So if you're in the forest, particularly if you're not an orc or troll or goblin or tauren or look like any of those, expect to be hunted. It might be dangerous, but he is looking to question, not kill, at the moment. Probably.

He will, of course, probably make it to town eventually, and when he does you'll also see him going to the Smithy and then promptly back out of town with his gear in hand, following the rivers and going up to survey the mountains/more of the forest over the next few days, camping as he goes. So if you'd like to chime in there, that's possible too.]

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[Derek feels the jerk of the spear as it's pulled back and lets himself go with it, crouching into a roll as soon as he can and trying to duck under the tackle.

Problem being that, well, Garrosh is a lot bigger than any vampire Derek has had to deal with, and there's far more body mass to avoid. Which means if the orc doesn't land on him, he probably has a good chance at grabbing a leg.

Life just sucks like that sometimes.]

[On him, or at least half of him. Garrosh gets hold of one leg, and with a heavy tug, and almost goes to get the other. It would actually be easier just to break the leg though. In fact, he resolves to do that, to break the lower part of the leg or the ankle or something by just crushing everything he can reach between his hands and a hard up-swing from his knee.

[At this point, Derek gives way to the raw instinct that makes him a good hunter in the first place. He feels those hands going for his leg, knows its probably going to be crushed in a few seconds by the feel of it, but the rest of him is near and under Garrosh's body.

It's a desperate, instinctive act, but the hunter twists around, clawing his hands, the fingers stiff and curled, and drives them into the nearest, softest part of flesh he can find and digs and twists. They aren't stakes, but he puts the same amount of force--force that's enough to push through a vampire's breastbone--into the blow. The snap of his own bone only helps to drive the blow harder, Derek hissing with pain.]

[Garrosh roars with some pain at that. Because that totally just connected with his lower abdomen, and makes him see-- well, white. It winds him, briefly. His grip releases, and for a splint second, he's dazed. He's going to break out of that quick enough, but still tingling, but hey, if Derek can move after that bone snap, more power to him]

[He can, if barely. You can thank military training for that; essentially, 'stop moving and you're dead'. For all that Derek has been telling Garrosh to just kill him, his survival instinct is still very much intact.

Not that he gets very far himself. His own vision is blurry, tinged with red and white flashes, and every movement sends fire up that mangled leg. Still, he'll stubbornly pull himself out from Garrosh and as far away as he can. Which is maybe, if he's lucky, a couple of feet. He watches the orc warily from his new vantage point, panting, but still very, very alert.]

[Garrosh is a warrior born, and one fighting against the most vicious enemies in two worlds most of his life.

It was a moment's winding, nothing more, and he gets to his feet at about the same time as Derek, and roaring-- he's planning to wrap his fists together and hit the guy over the head or back or something. Knock him out. This guy is not an enemy and is unarmed. And he's a worthy warrior.]

[He'd really rather not get concussed, or, worse yet, get his skull busted open or his neck broken. So when Derek sees the swing coming, he makes the simplest move he can to get out of the way; he lets himself fall flat on his ass. There'll be a second clawed blow to anything that comes close to him at that level, though.]

[One of his legs. It isn't enough to make him fall, but it does make him stumble just a little before he makes a move now to stomp on the closest part of Derek he can stomp on, regaining his footing and attacking all at once]

[Derek rolls. It's all he can do at this point, really. There wasn't enough time to even attempt to get back to his feet again. Still, it's a surprise when he hits the edge of a slight slope and goes barreling down it, clamping down on another hissed scream as his leg hits rock and buried tree limbs. He fetches up against a boulder, trying to push himself upright while he waits for Garrosh to catch up with him.

He was rapidly losing steam now, and something had ripped his leg open on the way down. Hell. He's just going to sit here now while he bleeds into the snow, all right?]

[Wow, sucks for him. Still, Garrosh collects his spear with a fierce tug (which snaps part of the tip, damn) before he follows along the path Derek went down. Quick enough, he comes upon the downed, broken, and bleeding man. He looks at him appraising-like, not sure if this one could even hear him at this point, but.]

Were we enemies, I would grant you a warrior's death now. I would say Thom-Ka as you passed.

[He says this matter of factly, standing over the man]

[Hunter's luck. It's kind of like Irish luck, only bloodier. ~~That, and the idiot would have kept fighting, otherwise...~~

Derek opens his eyes and actually gives Garrosh a slight, wry smile.]

...Appreciate the thought. You'll have to teach me what that means, some day.

[He closes his eyes again because his head is spinning.]

...But if we can call a truce, I'd appreciate it if you'd get me to the battle dome clinic in the village. Know someone there who can patch me up.

[Yeah, he's really over it that fast. Or maybe he's knocked for more of a loop than it seems.]

I've my doubts a human can learn it, but if you truly are not Alliance... then perhaps it it possible.

[and with that, he drops his spear and goes to pick up Derek. He's not light, but with strength, it's not impossible - honestly, it's not even hard - for him to lift Derek up from under his arms and lift him over his left shoulder. He'll carry him like that. And with Derek secured on his shoulder, h's going to back-track to where the fight was to get Derek's journal and read that guide as he walks.

His arm arm will just be supporting the guy]

[Between the dizziness and seeming to have found some sort of temporary peace with the orc, Derek's not going to protest being picked up like a sack of potatoes. Instead, he'll try to keep himself balanced, in between waves of pain, so that he's not as much of a burden on Garrosh.]

..It's the last couple of pages. [He offers that quietly before closing his eyes again. He doesn't quite pass out on the way there, but he remains quiet for the trip unless Garrosh asks him something.]

[He won't - no need to push the warrior to strain himself (he's no doctor, he doesn't know that you should have people stay awake for these things he might have going on. But he reads, and more importantly, discovers you can press a button to have it read to him to some extent. He also finds the maps there, which helps him navigate to... the Dome. The guy said the Dome, not the original clinic, so he'll honor that request.

In fact, he'll do that before getting closes or going to the village - he takes a forest route around it]

[Of all the things she expects to have walk into her clinic for the day, a large orc dragging- oh hell. Derek. And his leg's a mess. This is not something she needs after what happened this morning with Loki.]

...Tell me he did not run his mouth and earn a beating.

[Idle, wry commentary as she makes her way to Derek's side to help him stand and lean on her instead, assessing the rest of him for any breaks or bruises or cuts.]

[Derek's leg is a mess, and he's disheveled and had snow and twigs sticking all over the place, but other than a few bruises elsewhere, it seems confined to the leg, more or less.]

...Just had a slight disagreement.

[That's...sort of mumbled.]

[The man was over his shoulder, but once he's walked into the Dome (this place feels strange, like Draenei cities...) he sets the man down on a bed before he finally turns to the human woman, looming over her. So she's a healer?]

He should not have taken our disagreement so lightly. However, I see now he's also not my enemy. See to it that he does not die.

[And then, from the waistline of his cotton paints (he's still in the new feather garb, after all, so he's just got a slightly too small pair of pants on) he drops Derek's journal on the ground]

You disagree so you crush his leg? Clearly that was the only course of action.

[She has to spare the great, muscular...she can't think of the proper word for him right now, but being. An incredulous glare.]

And you wait until that to decide whether or not he's...

[She has no words, honestly. Well she has several but they would all end in a very swift and painful end, she should imagine. So she simply hefts him against her side and starts carting him to the nearest examination room. She'll come back for the book.]

I never thought I would see the day that I'd prefer Unger's means of disagreement.

...Not his fault.

[Yeah, he is rambling a little bit.]

I kinda pissed him off after he told me I was his prisoner.

[And he's stumbling a bit like a minute old calf.]

...s'all good, really.

I do not care about your judgement, woman. See him healed -- I might have use for such a warrior later.

[And he makes a light laugh kek]

You are released from being my prisoner,

[He intends this to be a parting comment. He's really not no reason to stay, after all--- but then hr realizes something. He curses this oversight and goes to stomp back in further to head into the examination room with them. He forgot to ask him name.]

[Adele spares a rather stern glare for the mumbling vampire hunter.]

He won't be much use to anyone if he keeps running his mouth like an idiot.

[Derek.

Derek, honestly.

Honestly, Derek. Honestly.

Honestly?

Honestly. Derek.

Derek. Honestly.

Honestly.]

Honestly.

[Once her mental and softly verbal diatribe is over she sets him on the nearest exam table and starts cutting away the leg of his jeans, only pausing to call back over her shoulder when she hears someone at the door.]

Patients, attending physicians, and next of kin only. As you are none of the above- wait outside.

[For his part, Derek will just lay back and close his eyes, the room rocking around him. He has only one woozy response to her one spoken word.]

...long story...

[And then he starts drifting off. Any further commentary from him will be limited to answering direct questions.]

[...Grrrah. He's got no intention to wait around for-] Then tell me his name.

John. John Jovboni.

[Because like hell she's giving him Derek's real name when a disagreement warrants a warped and ruined leg.]

[....What a simple name. Whatever. He grunts and nods] When he awakens, tell him that mine if Garrosh Hellscream.

[And with that, he actually will turn to go. and get his weapons and armor at the smithy]

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