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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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'Cept maybe Sonic.
[But he's still the second fastest in her book.]
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[...Huh. She kinda thinks they fit together like a hoof in a horse shoe, but...]
Well, power's more of AJ's thing, but that doesn't mean I'm weak or anything. I'll have you know that I'm one of Ponyville's top athletes, and not only because of my wings.
[She snickers, looping up around a tree and performing a drop kick off to the side.]
I've got a few other tricks up my sleeve. Plus, I've kinda helped save the world from getting shrouded in eternal night.
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Plus, they're the best friends anypony could ask for.
[Ah yes, the magic of friendship. Something that'll probably sound silly to a big, tough guy like Garrosh.]
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[They sound more absurd than the spirits, but if their power is notable, then hey, he's got no problem considering it]
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[Though they're all equally wholesome and part of a complete breakfast!]
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And that's coming from a pony who's totally for brute forcing things.
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[Conflicts are one things, but no bloody battles.]
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[Peace. Hah]
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[Her expression sours, and she folds her front legs.]
Those Malnosso punks make sure of that between all their experiments and drafts. And those Third Party guys don't make things easier, from what I can tell.
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Dash's ears fold back, and she flutters her wings.]
That's Rainbow Dash. I'm not some kinda beast.
But since you had to ask, I've just been trying to keep to my usual routine. Practice stunts, try to make friends, and not let the fact that this place is way more focused on hue-mans than ponies like me get under my skin.
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[But humans. she doesn't like humans?
Score]
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[Huff. Not gonna let it get too far under her skin, but still.]
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You dislike humans, Rainbow Dash?
[Still a ridiculous name]
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[She shrugs. Really, it'd be silly to judge 'em just based on their species, but she does have issues. And stuff.]
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You have more power than a human, why don't you put them in their place?
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[Or anypony's style, really. She does come from a rather peaceful world, after all.]
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[And she says this as one of the more aggressive ponies in her circle of friends.]
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