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Second
[On Garrosh's first day he learned quite a bit. Not what the people of this enclosure seemed to want him or expect him to learn, but he learned all the same. The people here were powerful, but listless. Strong, but weak in spirit. Or perhaps, their spirit was not channeled properly. It was not focused. They were warriors, but they must be from soft worlds. Worlds which has not gone through the likes of his own. The Nexus War. The Lich King. The Shattering. Azeroth was a land of conflict, and it forged its people - particularly the Horde - towards one purpose: war. Those who he had talked to here clearly feared war, and that fear prevented them from making the logical conclusions he had beginning to draw. They had told him the situation was complicated or delicate even as they had begun to rot in apathy.
He would change them.]
[Action A]
[But he couldn't do that before he knew what he had to work with. It was the dead of winter, in a climate which he was in no way used to. Still, he had survived off the land as best he could and circled around most of the barrier on the village's side of the mountains. He'd traversed some in the mountains as well, and as a result of that (plus Saleh's knife) he now sported a crudely made pouch and cloak of hides and furs. The other item he took (Silver's journal) had since been discarded near the barracks.
Because he took one of their "teleporters" (a brilliant mage's invention, more sturdy seeming than a portal, but more jarring) to the beach. In his armor and the cloak, he walks the shoreline through the cold and snow, going up onto the (stone? He approves) docks to look at the various ships there. He contemplates taking one to take to the seas, but thinks better of it. He has no crew, and it is winter. Still, he'll probably be at least contemplating boarding them if no one stops him.]
[Action B]
[Probably on a different day from his farm adventures, and pulling his cloak tight about him, Garrosh is making his way towards the farmlands. Obviously, he does not expect anything to be in season in this cold and snow, but he wants to see with his own eyes what the operation looks like.
Perhaps meet a farmer and inquire what is grown, and in what amount. Go into the barns and see the livestock. He needs to know what infrastructure already exists before he knows if his army-to-be can be fed. After all, there's no mining operations as far as he can tell, so they will need some work. He can only hope it's less than he's honestly beginning to expect.]
[Action C]
[And finally, back to the village. He has no intention of staying, but as most of the possible soldiers (he has to keep reminding himself they are indeed that, what with it being so full of humans) live here, he needs to spend some time here to know them. Know their strengths, their customs, as deplorable as they already have proved themselves to be what with the apathy inherent in this village life.
So, on this night, he makes his way into Good Spirits, again following the map, and once inside sheds his fur cloak for a hanger. He does not get out of his armor though, and did not put Gorehowl away. Let the humans see the ax and Mannoroth's tusks on his shoulders. Let them be impressed. He'll just go get a drink. He intends to socialize (that's the point of being here) but the minute he steps inside the stench of the place insults him, putting him in a foul mood. It'll be an uphill battle.]
[Run into him in any places (the docks (A), the farmland (B) or the bar (C)) as it pleases you. the timeline of this post is sort of nebulous: feel free to assume any time between now and the start of fourth wall.]
He would change them.]
[Action A]
[But he couldn't do that before he knew what he had to work with. It was the dead of winter, in a climate which he was in no way used to. Still, he had survived off the land as best he could and circled around most of the barrier on the village's side of the mountains. He'd traversed some in the mountains as well, and as a result of that (plus Saleh's knife) he now sported a crudely made pouch and cloak of hides and furs. The other item he took (Silver's journal) had since been discarded near the barracks.
Because he took one of their "teleporters" (a brilliant mage's invention, more sturdy seeming than a portal, but more jarring) to the beach. In his armor and the cloak, he walks the shoreline through the cold and snow, going up onto the (stone? He approves) docks to look at the various ships there. He contemplates taking one to take to the seas, but thinks better of it. He has no crew, and it is winter. Still, he'll probably be at least contemplating boarding them if no one stops him.]
[Action B]
[Probably on a different day from his farm adventures, and pulling his cloak tight about him, Garrosh is making his way towards the farmlands. Obviously, he does not expect anything to be in season in this cold and snow, but he wants to see with his own eyes what the operation looks like.
Perhaps meet a farmer and inquire what is grown, and in what amount. Go into the barns and see the livestock. He needs to know what infrastructure already exists before he knows if his army-to-be can be fed. After all, there's no mining operations as far as he can tell, so they will need some work. He can only hope it's less than he's honestly beginning to expect.]
[Action C]
[And finally, back to the village. He has no intention of staying, but as most of the possible soldiers (he has to keep reminding himself they are indeed that, what with it being so full of humans) live here, he needs to spend some time here to know them. Know their strengths, their customs, as deplorable as they already have proved themselves to be what with the apathy inherent in this village life.
So, on this night, he makes his way into Good Spirits, again following the map, and once inside sheds his fur cloak for a hanger. He does not get out of his armor though, and did not put Gorehowl away. Let the humans see the ax and Mannoroth's tusks on his shoulders. Let them be impressed. He'll just go get a drink. He intends to socialize (that's the point of being here) but the minute he steps inside the stench of the place insults him, putting him in a foul mood. It'll be an uphill battle.]
[Run into him in any places (the docks (A), the farmland (B) or the bar (C)) as it pleases you. the timeline of this post is sort of nebulous: feel free to assume any time between now and the start of fourth wall.]
[Action]
[If he has his doubts that that crouching form is an illusion, he pushes them back. He could adopt a defensive stance, but he opts against it, instead breaking the distance and striking before or at the same time as the other one, bringing Gorehowl down in a wide arc]
[Action]
He pauses and waits until Garrosh is committed to the attack and throws two more daggers in a direct, fast trajectory, this time the already unnaturally sharp blades augmented with a bit of magic, and a bit more kinetic energy imparted in the throw.
Not even pausing to see if those strikes hit, he holds out a hand to call the first set of daggers back and proceeds toward the Welcome Center, momentarily visible.]
[Action]
The blood is starting to spread, but the fact he can see the man means he needs to go in for it, whatever more injuries will come of a charge while he's got sharp daggers in his back or not. In fact, a war cry is on his lips while he lifts Gorehowl for another charge]
Lok'tar ogar!
[Action]
Loki's starting to wonder if this is somehow Thor's long-lost brother from a parallel universe. And unlike Thor, this one doesn't make him angry enough that he loses his ability to fight tactically. He knows how to deal with this situation. Which is to throw another dagger, and use his rather more acrobatic skills to flip to the side, trajectory perpendicular to Garrosh's. He leaves an image behind and sends another flipping in the opposite direction.
Have some choices. Choices are fun.]
[Action]
Mind you, he's doing this on the fly]
[Action]
The other two images shatter on the impact. Loki continues his dodge back, lands, and sprints, far faster than a human could manage, for the Welcome center. As he runs, he holds up his hands to call the two daggers still lodged in Garrosh. It shouldn't feel all that good when they remove themselves.]
[Action]
[Action]
As soon as the daggers are free of his hand, he replaces himself with an image, having it continue on its run toward the welcome center. He himself moves out of Garrosh's probably trajectory and pauses to swipe a hand over his leg to just stop the blood temporarily. Healing is his last priority right now.]
[Action]
You're beginning to take this seriously.
[Or he's reading into it, but he felt his blade hit something. Still, he sounds approving, as, somewhat more cautiously than his previous charge, he quickly makes his way towards that illusion]
[Action]
I do tend to take it a bit seriously when someone is trying very hard to do real harm to my delicate and beautiful skin.
Though admittedly for one of my kind, I'm not much of a warrior. If you wish a true battle with a god, you really ought to go talk to Thor. He'd be delighted to... exchange headbutts or whatever it is warriors do.
[While Garrosh and the illusion chat, the real Loki silently follows Garrosh's path back, pausing in a few places to take up the bit of blood that wasn't caught by the orc's cloak. It's not much, but it's enough. He also picks up any stray daggers, carefully cloaking the movements.
Loki returns to the bar and lets his invisibility drop. Inside the door, he draws a curling rune of command with the blood on each of the door posts. There's not enough blood to properly ward the place, but here's hoping the orc's not going to be meatheaded enough to, say, burst through a window.]
[Action]
Thor has not insulted my honor, mage. Why don't you tell me your name, so I know it in future?
[Action]
Loki of Asgard, who knows honor to be an intensely funny joke.
[Action]
Spoken like a truly evil coward.
[Action]
When you want him to be able to walk back in through the door, wash that off.
[Meanwhile, back with Garrosh, the illusion's grin goes toothy.]
Oh you mortals and your good and evil. It's cute.
You're a bit of a mess. Best have that seen to, brave slayer of innocent furniture.
[Insults only having meaning if he cares in the least about who speaks them.
The illusion breaks apart into light.]
[Action]
yet. He snarls and considers bounding back into the bar, but...He needs to treat these wounds first. So. Off to the Battle Dome! He knows there's healers there. For the time being he just pulls his cloak tighter about himself to try to stop the bleeding some. At least he isn't dizzy]
[Action]
Hm. He might want to let the Jedi know about this one. It isn't often Loki encounters people more antisocial than himself, but Garrosh hasn't even bothered to hide it under a veneer of civility. And Loki's happy to make him someone else's problem.
He sighs and sips his wine. Well, that was also kind of fun. Garrosh is now relegated in his mind to the category of people that are good for a laugh if he's bored.]
[Action]
He will keep an ear out for any news from the clinics. If there's trouble there, then he'll have to get off his ass and head out. But Garrosh might not even bother to go.]
Need me to take a look at that?
[Action]
Nay. 'Tis but a scratch. I'll take care of it myself in a bit. [He inclines his head.] But my thanks.
Oh. Do you know what the dear little grumpy fellow's name is? He never bothered to introduce anything but his ax.
[Action]
[Action]
[He smiles wryly.]
Sadly, I wasn't even trying to pick a fight. I just wanted my bloody glass of wine.
[Action]
[He also saw Loki do a fair share of taunting, but, well... that was something Law might have done in his place if he felt in the mood.
The Orc did make himself a very tempting target after all.]
Well, it's done with now. Won't learn him, but that's his problem.
[Action]
Well, if he's in the habit of picking fights, that'll be rather entertaining. And then will become boring very quickly, I think.
[He turns the glass in his hand.]
Let me know if you see him bleeding more, please. I don't want him anywhere near my house.
[Action]
[He glances towards the runes on the door. That... is an exceptionally useful bit of magic.]
Handy trick, that.
[Action]
[He regards Law for a moment, but he likes the man so he'll give him this tip.]
Smart people don't let theirs fall into the hands of magicians.