No Escape ((IC))

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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The dim light in the pit was not enough to hide the many eyes trained on her as the imp danced a few steps in front of her. "I did not call him to be tortured or beaten, he is a useful tool. He is no more a threat than the fox." her eyes narrowed at Dalfein. The imp made a rude gesture at the death knight and scampered around the pit inspecting the sides and top in what appeared to be a recon of the limits to their magic.

Lilli looked from one to the other of the death knights, noting their growing hunger. "Why don't you three just beat up on each other? Oh that's right...a death knight needs his rune blade, conjured blades fade without your magic. I suggest you all relax and see what our captors have in mind. Obviously if they want any amount of work done and expect us to be able to do hard labor, they will feed us and give us water. Fighting in here is likely to draw their attention, and not in a good way." she relaxed against the wall of the pit and shrugged.

The imp came back from his tour and whispered into her ear. Lilli chuckled and turned her attention to the mages in the group. "I suggest the mages in this group do a bit of experimenting. You might be able to channel a bit of flame, and possibly a treat or two, but the ley lines are far from us and it is your own innate mana reserves you tap into. I think it might be wise to conserve as much as possible, considering you may not be able to renew your mana very fast."

She smirked at the group, thinking of her own resources here in the pit. The demonic plane was only a whispered spell away, she had almost unlimited resources to draw from not only to heal herself, but her imp.

She glanced up at the wandering guards who circled the pit and her eyes narrowed. If there was a way to contact the leader of these foolish so called conquerors, she would offer her services to consideration of certain benefits. The death knights were not the only ones who hungered...she was addicted to sipping souls, the heady rush of power from even the lowliest peasant was something she had enjoyed for much of her life. It was what gave her the ambition to continue in the service of the Horde.
The teen blinked at the young silver-furred fox sniffing at her curiously and offered out a hand. " look like a baby version of Foxie...just not as dark. And your eyes don't glow..."

Petting the fox kit, she was calmed up until the arguing started.

Startled, she pulled the fox kit to her, clutching the smaller creature as Arelius shot up to his feet enraged at the words of their former captor. The words of the Death Knight, the mention of the bloodlust chilled her; she wasn't familiar with Death Knights, very few coming into the Cathedral Square. Sometimes she saw one in the Trade District, but had always kept her distance.

...and then the orc lumbered over. Even as she shrank back she could see from how he moved, how he walked...he was injured. As he entered the firelight, she could see the hastily wrapped knee, the cloth stained with blood. If it wasn't treated, infection and then gangrene would cost him his leg, possibly his life.

From the way he was heating a shard of metal, the orc knew it too. Her mana was slowly replenishing itself and she hesitated - he was awake and he looked angry and he was an -Orc- and they scared her

--and he was wounded. She reluctantly set the fox-kit aside and rose to her feet. Slowly, warily she shuffled towards the Orc despite her visible shaking. Swallowing hard, she eyed the shard of metal warily.

"...I c-can h-help you."
John watched Arelius threaten the captain with blazing hands before one of the Death Knights intervened. If the elf hadn't calmed down, then John would have been quick to insert himself in the fight. If there was anything John really liked about being a mage, it would be the duels between other magic users. He loved them. They weren't about brute force or physical strength to chop down your opponent. They were about being quick and clever; using cunning and wit to get that one fatal blow on your opponent. It was one of the thrills of being a mage, and he excelled in it.

The hooded man scoffed at the elf, watching him from the sidelines of the little incident. "Well… looks like someone was just about to have a temper tantrum. With magic too." He just couldn't hold his snark filled tongue for one second… He crossed his arms and leaned on the wall of The Pit. "You know… I'm kind of surprised you got this far as a mage. Usually you explosive type end up combusting early on." He falsely smirked at the man, getting up from his spot to walk up beside him and lean casually on his shoulder. "Back in Gilneas… I knew a kid who was just like you." He poked the man in the chest. "He was also a mage… but shorter… probably around… this height." He lowered his hand down to where Arelius' mid chest would be. "You see… he was a little hot headed. Anything sparked his fuse and he went off… fire balls, frost storms… you name it. Until one… rainy Tuesday afternoon… he got so infuriated, he just… poof! A pile of dust…" John removed himself from the elf's shoulder, patting him on the back. "Good ol' Biff… I'll miss him… he certainly made some great cat litter for my cat, however." He turned back to his wall. "Anyhow… you just think about the moral of that story, yes?" He moved away from him before he could say anything else, happy. Honestly, the most he wanted to do right there was get him mad. Part of him wanted to keep thinking that he was trying to teach him a lesson about discipline, but deep down, he really he just wanted to get the elf ticked off even further.

John heard the captain's words and he was right. While it sucked that they were going to be stuck down here for a day, they couldn't just blow their way out. Even if sounded pretty cool to John, it was stupid. Sighing, John looked around for a place to settle down. There was a fire, but he didn't want to be around those people. The orc was also there and he could maybe talk to him about escape, but he remembered that the orc wasn't wearing cuffs anymore. However, he did seem sincere about his words when he said he'd think about the offer. Regardless, he opted not to talk to him. Mostly because he had been tending to his wound and that kind of made John a little nauseous.

Quietly, he slumped down into a reclusive spot so he could think things through. Obviously, he'd have to work together with the others, and that little chat with the elf didn't seem to help. Oh well. A little rivalry didn't harm anyone. He began to let his mind wander. Thinking about how sucky it was to get out of that tiny cage and end up chained to a boat on the same day. That's a little embarrassing. He wishes he had his puzzle cube at the moment, but if he could remember vaguely, those tauren back in Dustwallow were using it as firewood. Sighing, John watched as Lillideth had made a few suggestions, finding a few of her suggestions rather humorous. "Sounds lovely. I think I would most definitely enjoy working with my newest elven ally." He turned to Arelius, smirking at him. He dusted himself off and stood up. "Shall we get the magic bakery going together? Or would you rather use what you have to blow me up?"
Dalfein laughed at the little imps antics, "Well I was just kidding anyway, you would have to summon a felguard or two to satiate my hunger, since I let mine fester longer than most of my kind I need a much bigger fight. It helps when you take on whole bandit gangs, or a pack of dire wolves, and yes even a pirate ship or two, as I said I am good for another day before I start to feel it's effects. Thank you for your concern about our resources, luckily for me I don't need to eat or drink, and normal rune blades are boring, though I do miss my weapons, they must be getting so lonely without me. On the other hand maybe it would be a bit of fun to cause some chaos for the guards, I am interested in getting to know our hosts a little better, sitting in this dank hole is so boring. I was hoping for some excitement, maybe a daring battle at sea for freedom, or a desperate escape attempt, but you all seem content to just sit on your hands. If only Sam were here I could have been long gone by now, the two of us together those guys up there would be blown away like so much chaff."

The Death Knight returned the warlock's smile, "I think you would like Sam he has an... interesting problem you would probably find fascinating, or not who knows. Well is anyone up for causing a little chaos, maybe a fire or two, or shocking the guards, may as well have some entertainment while we wait for whatever they have planned for us."
"Sanuura Moonheart," she replied quietly. She was now watching her fox rather absently. Perhaps she was babying the young kit a little much, but here... She couldn't be too safe...

She bit her lower lip as a large Orc hobbled over, and couldn't help but feel pity for him as he prepared to fix his wound. She stood up, motioning to Erani that she'd be back soon. She walked along the outskirts of the little gathering, watching the warrior carefully. "I'm trained in first-aid... if you'd accept help from a Draenei," she said rather sheepishly in Orcish.

As Silver was pulled into the young Priestess' arms, he began licking her face, fluffy tail wagging furiously. Even as he was set back down on the ground, he followed the girl at her heels, seeing no threat in any of the others, so long as the Huntress wasn't trying to attack them. As San stood nearby, he trotted in little circles around the three. The Draenei offered a smile to the Priestess, "If you're nervous or tired, dear, I'll help," she said quietly, speaking in smooth, though slightly accented, common.
Erani had been glaring at the orc since the brute lumbered over. She could work with death knights, blood elves, hell she could even tolerate warlocks! Barely, but she could do it! But she had no desire to even mask her burning hatred for this filthy orc. When Maj approached the orc she tensed and readied herself to spring at anytime. Erani was not one to resort to violence right away, so she contained herself, but if he even thought about hurting one hair on this child's head, he would soon find her hoof in his mouth. She did not open her mouth to speak, but she cleared her throat rather loudly to grab his attention, to make sure he was aware that she was watching him.
Naedril watches the happening with a curios eye and shake's her head silently. All the hate was not gonna get the group anywhere at all. Watching each of the people move towards the captain she quickly stands. And Move's to put herself between him and the other people in The Pit, holding up her hands and in a pleading tone she quickly speaks" Please! stop, we are not monsters. I am understand you all are upset and angry at this man, but if you attack him you are no better then him and them!" pointing outside the room she makes sure to raise her voice" They a e the enemy so can we you know.....Find a way to escape."

((Inspirational night elf for the win! ))
Another mage came up to Arelius and started to mock him. This one was a cocky little human. Than again, most humans were like that, always lecturing and boasting. "Hmph", said Arelius "he must of been a crappy little mage then." Unfortunately, the man was already walking away. His outburst might have had some negative effects, but it wasn't like he had said anything everyone else wasn't at least thinking.

Arelius watched some of the others in the pit. Maj was attending an Orc's leg, though she didn't look very pleased about it. Some of the Death Knights were still busy chatting away. It was then that the warlock suggested that him and his previous insulter try and see if they could conjure some food.

The man agreed and made another smart remark to Arelius. Arelius smirked, it was his turn to have some fun. "Meh, I don't want to waste magic on a pathetic mage like yourself. We could try and combine our resources together, but if you knew anything about magic, you'd know that not much is going to happen. Conjuring food not only takes concentration but it takes reagents. You can't just conjure something out of thin air. So unless you have something we can use, it isn't going to work so well..."
John clenched his heart with his hand, pretending that he had a heart attack or something. "Ouch! That one really hurt my confidence! Why, I don't think I'll be able to make it out of this pit, now that you've gone there." He rolled his eyes, not bothering to even continue with this one for the moment. He always found magic-wielding elves to be snobbish anyways. Which is why John always loved nailing elves specifically in duels. Thinking their so great and powerful with their hair and whatnot. "Besides, I believe the lady here asked us to at least experiment. If I'm correct, this is how we get better and learn new spells… through trial and error… and sometimes combustion. But! I think two skilled mages can at least try something… unless you aren't confident in your abilities." He paused for a moment, returning to his spot next to Lilli, slouching down the wall. "I wouldn't want you to break a nail or singe your hair."

Okay, he was done now. He didn't want to get at someone else's throat so early. Anything the elf said after that point on was ignored, and frankly, he hoped that the elf ignored him too. While he didn't really care to argue with him, he just -had- to have the last word. With a sigh, he turned to Lilli, smirking at her once along with a nod before looking down to his feet. "So… how're you?" He watched her imp scurry about the pit before continuing. "I don't suppose you've got any other bright ideas in that clever little noggin of yours?" He shrugged. "I kind of liked the idea where you get the Death Knights to beat each other up. That'd be fun to watch…"
The human mage approached her and Lilli looked him up and down, her ruby lips twitched in a half smile. "I usually don't have many friends for a reason, mage. I like your attitude however, you are not afraid to voice your opinion. I have no interest in death knights, they are usually so cold and...unemotional...I prefer...more heat..." her voice dipped into a whisper as she watched him sit down next to her. The fel green of her eyes glowed faintly, if he were to look close he may see a floating red dot that seemed to flash in and out of existence around her iris.

Her attention was momentarily caught by the draenei and her fox, she grinned in almost a predatory manner. But her thoughts she kept to herself as she watched the death knights struggle for control. "It's too bad the situation is so dire, although I would be curious what happens to those who try to escape, I am not willing to be a decoy or make any moves that may cause our captors to be concerned. Who knows, perhaps they are waiting for such foolishness so they can pounce on the rebels and make examples out of them." she idly ran her fingers through her shoulder length hair and sighed.

"Of course it may be interesting to see what they would do if we all started fighting amongst ourselves over a scrap of ..meat..." she glanced at the dead rat the death knight Xoolloon had killed.

"If the death knights spar with fists, and cause each other pain, it would be interesting...which one do you suppose would win? Perhaps we can have a friendly wager on the outcome? Since they took all our gold as well as weapons..we would have to find some...other..means...of barter? Hmmm I will have to give it some thought." she glanced at him with a smoky stare.
Drugh stared at the enchanted fire as it danced along his makeshift medical tool. It was enchanting to the orc warrior whom had never before just stared at magical fire. There were subtle differences though. A shamans flame, was natural, and as such would not move predictably, bucking and swaying as the spirits of the air fed its might. It was beautiful. However this mage fire seemed to move in patterns, like choreographed dancers moving to an unseen band. He watched as the blade went from a yellowish orange, to a yellowish white, to finally bright white.

It was time. As he began moving the metal, a movement in his periphery stopped his hand. Reflexively he dropped the white hot metal and turned his body to face whomever or whatever was approaching. Timidly a young human girl, still a pup really was cautiously approaching the large and no doubt intimidating Orcish warrior. The young woman was visibly shaken as she approached, but still found the courage too approach. Stopping but a step away from him, she spoke words that he would have never imagined coming from the mouth of a human, “I can help you.”

As the initial shock wore off near instantly, leaving Drugh with an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. The hardened warrior stared deeply into the smaller woman’s emerald eyes, staring into her soul as his father would have said. There was no deep seated hatred hidden beneath her pale skin, no hidden agenda, she was asking out of charity, which left the warrior at a loss for words. The closest thing that he had ever done, was dispatch a wounded human warrior while he was fighting on the roof of the world. He was suffering greatly, with wide eyes he pleaded to his gods and implored him to not allow the undead to take him. He gave him a warrior’s death and then burned the body.

He felt the hardened outer shell give way but a little, not every human could be without honor, without compassion could want to put his brothers and sister into the chains of servitude that had done once before. Forcing his large jaw too speak in the common tongue, the veteran warrior allowed some of the tension to ease from his body. “I would be glad.. of your assistance,” Drug forced out in a soft of a voice as his orchsih tongue would allow. Shifting to his good leg the warrior stood waiting for the girl to make her move.
It was then that he felt it. Some called it a sixth sense, he would prefer not to give in to superstition. Years of combat training had hardened the warrior, allowed him to anticipate attacks from his behind. It was a combination of the flickering shadows, the crunch of the sand, Drugh new something large was approaching from behind, and that usually meant trouble. With the final step, Drugh pivoted sharply on his good leg as the large Draenei female cleared her throat rather loudly, obviously intent on getting his attention; well she had it

Though she stood a good foot above the shorter orc, Drugh was not intimidated. Any tension that had left his body was now back hundred fold. He felt his muscles quivering in preparation, adrenaline surged through his blood, he very much hated the Draenei, hated them more so than even humans. IT had been their cowardice that had led the demons to their world. It had been their unwillingness to fight that allowed the deceiver to take the form of the ancestors and set his people on a course for destruction and damnation, he very much wished he had his hammer ight now, and by the looks of her so did she.

He did not need to stare deely into this !@#$%es soul to know where her heart lay. She hated him as much as he hated her. Good, Drugh thought to himself, some good old fashioned hate, and I can hate twith the best of them. Through clenched teeth, Drugh growled in a low dangerous voice, “Is their anything I can help you with big blue?” Oblivious to all else around him, Drugh prepared himself for combat. The adreniline coasing through him made him forget his wounds, forget his fatigue and focus solely on his opponent, and how he would topple the big blue beast.
Arelius pretended not to hear the other mage. Getting mad at the Captain was one thing, he had potentially killed them if they didn't get off this island. But getting angry at this other mage wasn't even worth the effort. He was just trying to get a ruse out of Arelius, and he knew that if it really came down to it, Arelius could handle his own. This one hadn't even studied in Dalaran, how could he claim he know anything but the lowliest of spells....

Regardless, Arelius returned toward the fire and Maj's side. "Sorry I got heated earlier. I sometimes let my anger get the best of me, but it is only used against those who deserve it."
"Please don't let him get to you, he's not worth the anger or the energy you'll need for when we escape," she pleaded with Arelius when the atmosphere tensed further as Orc and Draenei locked eyes and wills.

Tensing at the prospect of a fight - and being inadvertently in the middle of the two if they decided to attack one another - she reached out and touched the Orc warrior's shoulder, an action she never dreamed of doing in her life. "Please. Please sit so I can treat you."

Her eyes moved to Erani, her eyes soft and pleading. "Please. Stop. Don't fight. None of us should fight with each other. We're in the same situation right now and this is what our captors want, right? To divide us, to break us. Here, the past doesn't matter. Only surviving and we need each other to survive this."
Erani sat across the fire from the orc, stiff and still as stone, her venomous gaze did not even waver when the orc spoke. She neither said nor did anything in response. She didn't have to. Her massage came across loud and clear.

"I hate you, and all of your kind from the depths of my soul, and with every fiber of my being."

And he returned her glare. Her hatred. It seemed they had reached an understanding. Her vision narrowed, her blood was pumping. Her heart pounded like war drums deep within her breast. She measured him up and down. Yes, she believed she could take him down. She'd faced bigger brutes. But she would not be the one to attack first. It went against her very principles. For now she would simply watch him until the girl was finished tending to his wound. He seemed to welcome her rather easily... but knowing orcs... he could turn on her at any time. After all, that was what happened on Draenor. Her people only sought safety and sanctuary and these monsters nearly drove them to extinction. The memory of her father being slaughtered replayed over and over in her mind's eye. There would be no peace until every last one of them was wiped clean off the face of Azeroth.

"Please. Stop. Don't fight. None of us should fight with each other. We're in the same situation right now and this is what our captors want, right? To divide us, to break us. Here, the past doesn't matter. Only surviving and we need each other to survive this."

Physically, Erani seemed unwavering at the sound of the Maj's voice, but she was contemplating her words. She hated to admit it, but the child had a point. This was exactly what their captors would want. She would deal with the orc another time, but for now she would stand down. She abruptly relaxed herself and returned to staring into the fire. He wasn't worth her energy anyway.
Drughs eyes never left his opponents. IT was a waiting game at this point. He was waiting for her to make the first move, where it was to attack or retreat, well that was up too her. The tense moments seemed to stretch for an eternity, but once drugh reached the point where he couldn’t stand idle any longer, the soft touch of the girl, gave him pause.

She spoke words of wisdom beyond her years, we were captured, and the only outcome that killing the Draenei would accomplish is making them down one body, whether the girls words had moved her, or some common sense had sneaked past her bullish horns, the woman abruptly conceded their contest of wills, their contest of hate. AS she sat down, Drugh lifted his arm, visualizing his massive two handed hammer resting comfortably in his grip. The dark red on black filled Drugh with pride as he leveled the imaginary weapon at the Draenei’s head. With one smooth arc, he imagined the symbol of the horde cracking her skull, causing her to collapse to the ground, brains seeping uncontrollably into the cruel sands of the pit. For the final time he bared his teeth and then pushed himself up against the nearest wall. Removing the bandages carefully he waited patiently for her too approach.

He did not no what she would do but he hoped she would do It quick. The adrenaline form confrontation was wearing off, and his knee wound was radiating pain though out his body. He gave one final glance towards the Draenei whom was staring idly into the fire, he would remember her, and he would cave in her skull. It would be his honor to paint his face with her blood, to purify her from her cowardice, her peoples cowardice, the same cowardice that had led the demons to their world.
Lia and Teron

Teron would have turned as a Forsaken approached him "My friend.." he'd start, his stance still being maintained "...When it comes to the woman here, it's a step at a time. So...the answer to that question would be nothing really." He'd listen to the captains words, carefully, knowing that Lia would be more thinking of twenty different ways of how she could slowly and brutally torture the man and miss things that were said. When he was done, he glanced at the human woman for a moment before reaching out to place a hand on the Huntress' shoulder.

"Lia...he has a point...look where we are now, there is no way out of this. He's had more experience with this people than us, perhaps he is our ticket out of here..." Lia's hand would have been removed, but her eyes would remain on the captain, furious. However, he did have a good point....and from what Teron whispered, there was no way that the two should go into this blindly, especially when she didn't have her gear with her. Shrugging off Teron's hand, she whirled around to point a finger at the obviously angry mage "You! Shut your trap before I shut if for you. Now if you have any common sense you will listen to everything he said instead of trying to burn him to a crisp"

She would then whirl around back to the captain "You make a good point...'Captain'..perhaps you do earn the right to 'lead' this group of..." she'd look back at the others before looking back at the man and his companion "-Hardy fighters-....however there seem to be a few that have a short fuse here..." she'd jerk her head the Sin'dorei mage "So while I wont want to gut you so much anymore...if you want to earn -trust- from anyone here...tread lightly..." with that, she'd turn and walk away from the man.

Teron stopped her, Lia looking at him, seeing the worry in his eyes. She would smile, raising a hand to pat his cheek "Going to try and meditate...see how calm I can get...this day has just been so crazy, I need to relax as much as I can.." The Assassin nodded, letting go of the Huntress' shoulder to let her go. Lia would have found a nice spot, away from everyone else, to sit down and cross her legs before closing her eyes, her hands coming to rest gently in her lap.

"Forgive her..." Teron would say apologetically towards the Captain "In a way, I can understand her mistrust for you, I don't exactly do either...but given everything you've done, it'll take her some time to get around..." with that, he would turn his attention back towards the Forsaken woman who questioned him earlier, Teron finally taking a normal and relaxed stance "As for what plans we actually popped up. On our way here, while Lia was panicing might I add, I was making a small escape route down back to the ship..."

He'd glance over to the captain, hoping that he was listening "If we ever do survive long enough to get out of the Pit, get out of slavery, find your men, AND find out who this 'Slave-Catcher' is...we could use the tree line near the path to cover our escape. Guards wont find us, Slaver-Catcher might if we don't deal with her first...but it might be out best shot to get back to the ship, that's if a certain someone here is willing to take it.." he'd glance back to the Forsaken "Either's a small plan, if we make it that far...who knows?" Sighing, he would eye the woman up and down "So then, how did you get in this mess? Me and Lia over there got did a Forsaken get in the middle of this?"


With all the conversation that was going on around her, it was hard to meditate as well as she could have. So instead, she opened her eyes and looked around. Teron was still talking near the captain and to a Forsaken woman that had approached them during her 'questioning' the captain. The rest..well..there were hardly any words. They were all just a bunch of hate infused people who looked like were about to make a whole war in the small pit they were in.

Sighing, the Huntress stood and approached them, her hands on her hips and her eyes lowered as she would stand next to the orc "Alright...look, he hates you, you hate her, you hate that wall, you hate a spec of dirt, who gives two damns. Look around you, we are stuck in a filthy pit surrounded by guards of what skill we are unsure of yet. We have barely any weapons, any plans...and everything that is going to get us OUT of this much as a few.." she would look at the Sin'dorei mage, Arelius, that threatened to burn the captain, making sure he knew she was talking to him " wont like it...our hopes rest with the man who captured us"

Lia turned to the orc, eyeing him up and down "How about you just lower that piece of steel of yours and lets all calm down here...the last thing we need is people killing each other in here, that's going to do more harm than good..." She'd nod towards the Teenage human "See? She sees it too, agree?"
Dalfein's shoulders slumped, when no one answered his call to have some fun, "Well guess it's back to boredom again, man you all need to lighten up." He overheard some of the human mage, and warlock's discussion, most pointedly the warlock's suggestion that the Death Knights fight each other. He chuckled, he had defeated his fair share of Death Knights in Northrend, but they had all been under the Lich King's control, he had no interest in fighting a fellow member of the Ebon Blade. Although if one of them went crazy he may not have a choice, he could also feel the hunger begin to manifest, but he forced it down, his fellow Death Knight, he believed he had heard him introduce himself as Dristis Octavian, was not doing as well. Turning to the warlock, and mage, "You do realize that if even one of us loses our minds, at least half the people here would be slaughtered, the magic users would be fine, but the rest without their weapons wouldn't stand a chance. Now imagine if all three of us lost it simultaneously, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if that happens everyone here would die, so this is everyones problem, unless of course you are tired of living that is."

Something had to be done, and from the look of Dristis soon, but unless someone offered a solution, the only option they had was to kill someone down here, and Dalfein did not want that to happen.
Sighing as the situation had dissolved itself. Looking around she eyes the look of hate in the orc and Draenei's eyes. Sighing she shake's her head, " I wish people would calm down..." Thinking to herself she move's to the door grabbing the door she rattle's the door lightly and looks at the hinge's. A bored guard looked into the bars" Get back" he mutters in a bored voice. Naedril smile's and raise's her hand "Sorry".

Moving away from the door she walks towards the fire again, taking carefull note to sit next to the orc. Looking up at him she nods and shrug's and speaking in orcish she smile's" So, Orc whats your story? how did you get here? and don't tell me you got overpowered, i have seen your kind fight and your people are incredibly strong warriors. My name is Naedril Nightengale by the way." Looking at the other people around the fire she eyes each of them with a friendly gaze.
((This is Maj btw, forgot to switch characters XD))

Pulling on her small mana reserve - which had only just started to replenish itself - the teen focused on the Orc's injury, pushing aside all other distractions. With as little mana as she had, she had to make it count and heal the worst of the damage so that if the Orc warrior needed to run, he could.

She didn't want anyone to get caught by that 'slave-hunter' the guards had bragged about.

With no water or cloth, she couldn't clean and prep the injury which made it all the harder on her. The healing glow of the Light washed over the Orc's leg and her face, which was pale and tight in strain. Sweat rolled down her cheeks and brow as she forced herself to pull more and more on the rapidly diminishing mana as the wound pulled itself together from the inside.

Bits of debris and the bullet pushed out of the wound, dropping to the dirt floor. Slowly the wound pulled together, repairing torn muscles, blood vessels, nerves...thankfully that sensation was anesthetized by the healing Light, allowing the Orc relief from the pain that had been plaguing him since his capture.

The teen began to sway slightly as the combination of hunger and using up the last of her mana to heal and close up the orce's wound took its toll on her body. The healing Light vanished abruptly as the Novice toppled over in a dead faint.
After her little confrontation with the orc, the Draenei patiently waited for her anger to quell before she considered the situation. First day in this stinking place and Erani had already made an enemy. Not that she had any regrets. Though, if her brother were around, he would have smacked her on the back of the head for being so brash then demand that she apologize. What was it that he always told her? "Hatred is like carrying a hot coal in your bare hand with the intent of throwing it. The only one who gets burned is yourself." Erani scoffed. She would very much like to shove a hot coal down that animal's throat.... She looked up again to check on Maj. Hopefully she would be finished quickly. After a few moments Erani watched the girl topple over. She immediately forgot her hatred and the orc and her expression turned to one of concern. She didn't hesitate to push herself up and go to assist the girl.

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