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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.]
[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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All she can think is that this strange-looking man deserves a greeting, just as anyone else would.]
Good evening. ... You have fine taste in camping equipment.
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However, that's dismissed with one look at her face. She has no tusks, and her nose is pointed instead of her ears. Or maybe his, actually, given this is also a human... or at least some species which isn't an orc.
In any case. Garrosh isn't sure if he should take that as sarcasm or not. After all, he's just got his armor, Gorehowl, a knife for cleaning fallen game, a hatchet to chop wood and a shortbow (okay, so it's a normal bow, but it looks like a shortbow on him) with a quiver to hunt game.
He decides, though, because this one is being polite and his rage has somewhat abetted from earlier today, he'll be more polite than he usually would be]
Mok'ra. [A beat] And why are you holding those bags?
woah DW legit ate my reply for once :T not even lazarus saved it
She, on the other hand, is eager to talk to anyone lately. It stems from a bit of loneliness and a realization that she's been too quiet for her own good.
There's no sarcasm from her. Aside from the weapons, he looks very prepared to survive in the wilderness. Sakura is no stranger to that.]
I was using these sandbags for weight training and strength training. [There's a pause from her as well.] Not many in Luceti would sleep outdoors in such conditions. Your willpower is admirable.
wow what a silly thing to do that to us
Many in Luceti appear to be content to sully their pride by living in shelter provided by an enemy.
blame the flu for my second bout of late i'm sorry
She herself resides indoors, but she's not offended in the least.]
There are those among us who do not consider the Malnosso to be our enemies. I am not one of them, but the situation here is both delicate and complex.
it's cool, it's cool
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If they cannot see that truth, then they must be made to see it.
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[And he sneers a moment, before he considers just drawing his ax and cutting her down. He's had a foul day besides, and so for a second there's killing intention. But he reigns it in, exhaling hard and then inclining his head]
What's your name, woman?
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He would also find her very difficult to cut down at all. It is the best choice in the long run.]
I am Sakura Oogami. [To some, she's known as the Ogre. To others, she's just another captive here.] And how is it that I should address you?
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[Evenly. Where the hell is the Horde here]
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Very well, Garrosh Hellscream. Until we meet again.
[And only slightly annoyed by his stubbornness, she effortlessly lifts her sandbags and walks past him into the village.]
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