gorehowl | First

Entry tags:

First

[Action]
[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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Derek stays where he is, and although he notes the lowered spear, he's still prepared to get charged again. He'll nod though, and, still quiet, replies with the cold detachment gone from his voice and replaced by a slight weariness.]

Very short version is that this place, this enclosure, is called Luceti. It's on some other world or dimension that everyone in the village has been dragged to from their own homes. There are people from...more realities than I can imagine, and all of us are trapped here with no way to get out or get home. Not even our so-called caretakers know how to get us home, or so they claim.

The people who run the place and keep an eye on us are called the Malnosso. They're the ones who put us in here and put the wings--

[Here he'll turn just enough to show Garrosh his own pair before settling back against the tree]

--on us. If you try and take them off, it'll kill you. If you injure them, it'll make you sick. Pretty badly from what I can tell from when someone else tried it a day or two ago. The backache will stop in a day or two.

There are shops in the village--your cloths will be in one, any items that made it here with you will show up in the others, although it might take them a while. It's all free, no money or barter needed. There are also places to stay in, and food you can get, also free.

You should have a journal, if you don't, it's probably back where-ever you were when you woke up. It's a communication device for the villagers. It also has more detailed information on the place located in the back.

[As Derek speaks, Garrosh takes two steps closer to loom over him, his teeth gritting. Another world? Enclosure? A village?]

I have no interest in some village. I will not accept there is "no way out" either.

[Derek will continue to calmly meet Garrosh's glare.]

You're welcome to take a few days walk out to the barrier and try to get out. Was actually thinking of going myself, but from what I can tell from other accounts, nothing works. Not digging, not flying, not attacking it, not magic, not super-powered entities. Only time it comes down is when some outside force screws it up.

...And the barrier is supposedly keeping some pretty nasty shit out anyway.

Nasty? [And he laughs here. Kek hahaha. It's a low, grumbling sort of thing as he now leers, leaning in towards Derek's eye level] I have fought dragons, demons, and Death itself. Are you so full of fear you would surrender to apathy?

[Really, dude? We've fallen to Disney level theatrics now?

...yeah, vampires have pretty much spoiled him on that sort of thing.

Derek raises an eyebrow at him.]

Just repeating the info that's out there. Personally, I'm looking to get a feel for the place before I try anything. No point in repeating things that don't work, now is there?

Unless they were attempted ineffectually.

[He snarls, but then considers. No, he would be better to arm himself greater than this.]

Show me to this village.

That might also be true. Haven't had the chance to test it yet.

[Derek will nod and stand up, his wings flicking uncomfortably before readjusting back into place after being leaned on for so long.]

This way.

[He'll start leading, well aware that he might get that spear in the back at any second. Still, if there was any trust to be gotten here, ever, he was going to have to be the one to start offering it.

Wishful thinking, yeah. But maybe something would stick with the guy.]

Just a warning; there's a lot of humans, but no one like you that I've seen. I suspect none of them will know who or what you are either, or what Durotaur is, and if they do...well, it'll probably be more like a story they've heard as kids. Not the kind of legends you tell about heroes or old foes. More like bards tales told for entertainment.

[He was content to start to follow this man. His nose has wrinkled at the idea of more humans, but he had expected that when a human had told him a village. But a story they heard as kids didn't make him question it that much. Or well, it was an interesting idea but-

Entertainment.

The struggle of his people for survival was amusing? His next world is very low, very cold]

Entertainment?

[He hears that threat, but keeps steady anyway. He can actually sympathize, since he'd had to come to terms with knowing that someone, no, at least a few someones from stories on his own world were alive and well and very real in Luceti. It would be no less unsettling from the other end, he was sure.

And Derek suspected Garrosh would probably not take kindly to people not recognizing him...or at least not recognizing him as something more than a story.]

As in not something that happened in their world, or that could happen in their world. They just get...I dunno, echoes through their storytellers, I guess, of whatever reality the tales come from. Really don't know how that works, but apparently, it does.

Point being, for them, it would be like meeting a legend they were told didn't actually exist, and can't exist.

Point about all this also being that the villagers might recognize the fact that you expect to be obeyed and feared from your actions, but since they have no clue who you are, they probably aren't going to react the way you're used to, or at least some of them won't.

Then they will be made to learn that fear and learn that respect.

[A beat]

You've displayed much confidence, in challenging me to end your life, and now turning your back as you explain insults to come to me.

[It's a light statement. He's really not sure what to think of it - it's certainly not courage, for no courageous warrior would ask to die]

...I hunt monsters on my own world, to keep other people safe. Some of them act like you, thinking it will stop me, scare me off, frighten me enough to swerve from the job. And the kicker is that they don't have to do any more than scratch or bite me to do me in. But they do it anyway, because they think it makes them a top predator; they enjoy the fear just for the sake of it.

Honestly, you have a lot more honor than they do or ever could have. If you didn't, I'd already be dead. That puts you miles above them.

You come by it as a leader--they come by it so that they can feed off of people and spread their disease as far as it will go. If they kill me, it's just the eventuality anyone who does my job has to deal with.

If you kill me, it's my own fault for not being able to make it clear that what I'm telling you isn't meant to be an insult to a warrior, it's to try and get him to understand that right now, being a warrior won't get him what he needs or wants, and will just cause him a lot of problems he doesn't need if he's going to try and get out of here.

[Just to put this on the record, he's half-ready to stab Derek in the back at the implication that orcs are monsters he picked up from the first statement. His arm actually almost cocks back]

[The praise helps, but the rest of it doesn't help. His spear goes into one hand, and he now goes to reach a large hand and grip Derek's shoulder to hold him in place.]

And tell me, human, what will?

[Derek holds steady under that grasp, still calm even though that grip tells him he's dangerously close to the edge.]

...Just don't assume we're the same humans from your world and need to be killed. No one here is at war with you, likely no one will be if you don't go after them first. We're all just trying to survive what gets thrown at us and figure out how to get back to our homes. There's no point in fighting with our fellow prisoners when there's bigger problems to work out.

I did not ask you to justify that you are not Alliance, I asked you what you ask me to to do!

[And his hand puts more pressure on the shoulder. At this point, he's going to leave a bruise. Plus the shouting]

[Derek grits his teeth a little, but holds onto that calm.]

Don't treat the villagers the way you're treating me now. Don't treat them like the enemy, and they won't treat you like the enemy. Use your tactical mind instead of your warrior mind, because even though fighting might seem like a good idea, trying to get them to obey you like you were their war leader is only going to end in a lot of bloodshed no one needs.

...and if that's too much to ask, then I'm pretty much out of things I can say to you. [He pulls out his own journal, turning it to the Guide and holding it up to eye level for Garrosh.] Read the journal if what I'm saying isn't acceptable. Maybe that will make more sense to you as to why I'm saying it.

[And he waits. He's either completely blown it, in which case he's fucked, or there's that one in a million chance the orc will listen.

Derek is betting on fucked, though.]

[To take the journal, he'd need to let go of the spear or let go of the shoulder. He opts to let go of the shoulder, but shoves Derek, perhaps a little roughly, and takes the journal as the guy is no doubt tripping up a little. As he does this-]

I have no reason to trust they are not my enemies. I, after all, have a great many. And make no mistake, at this moment, you are my prisoner.

[But he will glance at this guide. It's long. It's not that he can't and doesn't read, it's that he doesn't want to in front of a prisoner]

[Derek does stumble, but manages to keep his feet. He turns to Garrosh. When the word 'prisoner' crosses the orc's lips, though, Derek just shakes his head. His own patience is just about done.]

Yeah, no. I'm not. Want to kill me, fine. But we're not doing that prisoner bullshit. Just leave the book wherever you want once you're done with it. It'll show up where it's supposed to later.

[And with that, Derek starts off towards the village, with or without Garrosh. Most likely with a spear to the back...or possibly knocked out.

Yeah, this nice, relaxing trip into the woods is turning out just fucking great.]

[Well, he did warn him. He doesn't stab him - he'd never stab someone in back but he does flip the spear in his hand to swing it down in a wide arc at the back of Derek's head. Or at least, that's his intention, and his roar backs it up]

[Yep, fucked. This is the thought that goes through Derek's head as he reacts to the roar and ducks at just the last second. The duck turns into a spin so that he's facing Garrosh, and he straightens up into a defensive stance, already looking for the next incoming blow.]

[A warrior. Definitely a warrior, and if he fought fast and violent monsters, he can treat him the way he might have a member of the Argent Crusade.

Not that he fought them much, but he'd seen them fight.

So when that doesn't connect, he roars and this time thrusts the point of his spear. You want to make this a fight, he'll make it a fight]

[Derek seems to be about to let the spear connect, but just as it's about to, he turns sideways, leaning the palm of his hands on it just enough to help the turn and pull to the side. It's a near miss, but it does miss. He takes a chance then, clamping his hands down on it, hoping to use the force and momentum of the thrust to keep the spear moving out of Garrosh's hands and away from them. If that doesn't work, Derek will try to shove the spear end into the ground with his own weight.

He has no intention of actually trying to hit back; just avoid and disarm if he can, using the orc's own movement against him if possible.]

Do you think to overpower me?! [the spear does indeed start to slide on out, and does briefly look like it's going to disarm him, but he grips it hard before it slides out, and uses his no doubt superior strength to pull back.-- not in enough time to avoid it being shoved into the ground though. He could pull it out, but it's just a wooden spear.

So instead, he lets go and makes to tackle the other man bodily]

[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.

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

1/2

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]