//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: A New Friend // Story: The Fate of The Warchief // by The Blessed One //------------------------------// Garrosh sniffed at the air as life returned to his body. He could detect some sort of chemical, for certain a type of sterilization agent; it wasn't pleasant in the least. From skin to bone he felt as though he were blazing with fire, and his muscles were aching with a pain that was stronger than any feeling he'd felt in a long time. "Was it all a mere dream? Am I back in Orgrimmar?" He thought hopefully as he opened his exceedingly sore eyes. A teal fabric roof was all that met him. He cast a painful sideways glance to see the humans' healer's mark embroidered upon one of the slanted interior walls, clearly explaining the chemical scent. He was in an infirmary tent. "Why? Why could it not have just been a dream? Why could I not be back home?" He thought bitterly. As Garrosh's sight continued to wander slowly around the largely vacant, teal tent, his vision came to rest upon a sleeping, gray lump with wings and askew blonde hair. "That screaming mother from the town center...." He knew her. The questions that were hanging on the orc's mind were now these: "Why is the female asleep here of all places?" "Is that pup that I rescued alright? And finally, is that psychotic bitch of a 'pony' dead?!" He decided he would let the sleeping one lie, and he turned to go back to sleep himself. He knew if they hadn't killed him in his sleep by now, then he was safe here (At least temporarily). Garrosh thought of the little.... "pony" child's face as he drifted off to sleep, and he briefly wondered with a weary and bewildered mind's eye what else this world could possibly have in store for him before he was able to return to Azeroth. Garrosh awoke some time later. He felt a trifle better than when he had first woken up, though his flesh was still burning. He had yet to open his eyes, yet he could tell that the sun was up outside the tent that housed him. However, after a minute of just lying there had passed, he remembered that he had a city to reach, and a blacksmith to see about armor and weaponry. He opened his eyes only to see the same green tent roof, but as he craned his head to the left where he had last seen the mother of the child he saved, he was greeted up close by two, very large, very unfocused yellow eyes. Garrosh barely had time to flinch before hearing words coming from below them. "Hello..." The horse said in a quiet, timid tone. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up." She continued half-whispering. "I-I wanted to say thank you; thank you so much for rescuing Dinky. I'm Ditsy... by the way, Ditsy Doo." She introduced with that same timid, almost fearfully anticipant voice. Garrosh didn't know who "Dinky" was, but he assumed it was the child he had earlier pulled from the flames. By this time he had gathered that this woman had stayed with him all throughout the night before just to thank him for that deed. "Oh! I almost forgot to tell you:" The mother struck up again. "The doctors say that you're going to be okay, but they did wrap you up in bandages to help with the burnt skin. They also threw your shoes away 'cause they were um... icky." "Will she ever stop talking?" Garrosh pondered seriously, knowing that this was quickly going to grow intolerable. He was happy to save the child yes, but this horse was starting to drive him insane.... "Wait, they threw away my shoes?!" His anger started to rise again already, and he had only been up a few moments. Garrosh determined not let his rage show on his face though, if nothing else than for her sake. Despite her strange eyes and never-closing mouth, he did count her solitary presence there as a blessing, for now he could finally have a local to inquire about her race. The more information he accumulated, the more he could keep concealed for a later time of need. "Oh! I also brought you something." She hovered a few feet away from him over to the mat where she lay before and grabbed a brown paper bag with her mouth, and then she placed it next to him. "It's for saving Dinky." She beamed at him with an innocent, albeit slightly forced-looking grin. Her grin kept up as she waited for him to open it. Garrosh looked down at the bag, then back at her. "It's a rune back home if I'm lucky." He thought as he sighed, reaching for the brown sack. He stopped one last time to look at the "Ditsy" again. She was still smiling, so he grabbed the bag and opened it. Inside the bag, were four brown, oddly-shaped spheroids. They smelled of fresh bread, but with a with a moderated hint of sweetness. They must have been some sort of pastry; He looked back to the gray pony to see that her smile had gotten smaller, but not by much. "What is this gift?" He spoke to her for the first time. Ditsy's eyes seemed to be popping out of her head, but he couldn't tell if that was because of the question, or his thunderous voice. "I-it's a muffin, silly!" She said as she started giggling. "Apparently, the former." His mind deadpanned. Though it was the first time she had not acted like she was afraid of him, that did not stop her answer from being unhelpful. He gave a meager glare at the pony for her useless reply. Ditsy stopped laughing when she realized he was, in fact, serious. Ditsy looked sincerely shocked, but still she spoke. "You've never had a muffin before?!" She asked the question as if it were impossible. "No, I have never had one of these... muffins before." He said as he picked one of them up. Garrosh sniffed at it intently. Content that it wasn't laced with any form of poison, he popped the strange object into his mouth whole. The "muffin" tasted mostly like sweet, spiced bread. It was enjoyable he had to admit, but not nearly as enjoyable as his pig was.... "My boar! Those rats made me leave it!" He realized lividly, but he kept the desired scowl from gracing his face once again for the sake of Ditsy. "Sooooo, do you like 'em?" She asked with hope as her tail waved back and forth as a wolf ready to receive a new bone. Garrosh didn't mind telling her his honest opinion since it was good food.... for common bread, but first and foremost, he bore many questions that needed answering. "It is acceptable, But my questions are more important than any Food could be right now. Ditsy Doo, How long have I slept?" He asked with his tone a bit more serious and stern. Ditsy looked up with her hoof upon her chin in thought before speaking again. "After you got electrocuted, you were out for the rest of the day, and the whole night too, so it's morning now." She kept the confidence she had earned earlier as she continued. "May I ask you something now?" The face she then made was impossible to refuse; in fact, he'd surmise that a murloc infant could take notes from such an expression, so the orc sighed and nodded concedingly. "What's your name?" Ditsy asked with even more excitement building in her voice. "Hellscream, Warchief Garrosh Hellscream." He stated with pride booming in his voice, and Before the pony could interrupt him, he asked his second question, the more important one. "Now it's my turn again: The child I saved, How fares she?" If you were to ask him why he cared so much right then, he wouldn't be able to give you a suitable answer, for he positively knew not why. Ditsy gave him a very real, and large smile before responding to him with yet another question. "Why don't you ask her yourself?" She quipped in a playful tone. Ditsy then turned around and trotted over to a sleeping bag. Within it, lying on her stomach, was a small, purple pony child with a horn atop her head showing the same askew blond hair as her mother before her. He could see the perfect resemblance almost instantly, though he had no idea why she had a horn. "The mother must have bred with one of the horned ones." He mused. "She wanted to stay with you, until you woke up." Ditsy spoke in a lowered voice as she cantered over to the youngling. Garrosh couldn't believe that the child had stayed in this tent all night; she must have been very grateful to him indeed. "Wake up, my little muffin." Ditsy cooed in the ear of her daughter. Dinky, rising from her sleeping bag, sat up and groggily rubbed her face with her hooves as she yawned. "He's awake, sweetie." Ditsy said to her half-asleep little girl. Dinky then looked him straight in the eyes, before she got to her hooves and walked very slowly over to the brown, monstrous orc, never breaking eye-contact once. Dinky then didn't move; she stood stalk-still. The orc and the foal just stared at each other for the longest time. Looking back on it, he would have called it absurd, but for some reason, he could not tear his gaze away from hers. "Well? Go on; say 'thank you.'" Her mother encouraged. After what felt like an eternity had passed, the small, horn-headed filly jumped onto his chest and wrapped her hooves around as much of his neck as she could, holding onto it tightly. "Thank you." She whispered into his ear as he quickly felt water dripping where her eyes were. "Thank you." She whispered again through quiet sobs. Garrosh had not the slightest clue how to react to her thanks, so he just placed his hand on her back as gently as he possibly could, and for a moment in time, closed his own eyes. After that moment, he looked to the little one's mother to find her smiling with teary eyes while sniffling a bit, so he held the child there for as long as she wanted to be there. Garrosh Hellscream, the unfeeling warmonger, the brutal blood-thirsty warrior, the ruthless Warchief, found himself at a complete loss for words or actions within the innocent grasp of this little filly. After a minute that passed by like a lifetime before his eyes, he finally mustered enough courage to respond to the youngling. "Y-you're welcome, little one. Dinky, was it?" Garrosh asked in the softest voice he could. He felt her head nod up and down to confirm that her name was indeed Dinky. The name was so fitting for the delicate, adorable flower he held in his hands. The battle-hardened orc was content to hold the small angel all day, but she pushed her front hooves against his chest as she hopped off of him. After giving him one of the kindest smiles he'd seen in a while, Dinky trotted over to her mother and nuzzled her. She then looked up to her mother and asked a sudden question. "Um, momma, I know you said we probably can't have him over for dinner tonight, but can we tomorrow night, please?" Dinky asked very hopefully. Garrosh looked to her mother, who then answered back. "Sweetie, I don't know if those other ponies will let him come over so soon." Ditsy reminded her while trying to not put her child's mood down completely. Her attempt was foiled as Dinky cast her head down at the floor in sorrow and dejection. Garrosh was not having this, not at all; even if he had to fight those winged bastards all over again, he would have dinner with this little girl. "I believe I can make it... tonight, little one." He smirked with confidence. Ditsy looked a bit concerned with his statement, but she hid it from Dinky as the little flower of a pony bounced up and down ecstatically. "Yay!" She chirped out. This all was well and good, but Garrosh knew he would require quite a few things from Ditsy in order to accomplish this. He knew the first thing he needed was to speak to Ditsy in private, So he made a small, nonchalant effort to shoo the youngling off for a bit. "I will be there, but your mother and I must discuss how to go about planning this dinner. Why don't you go off and play while your mother and I speak?" Dinky gave a spastic nod and bolted out the tent's entrance before yelling back to them. "bye, Mom! Bye, Mister!" Garrosh then turned his attention to Ditsy, who looked rather confused. "I need you to answer all the questions I have about this place and everything in it, for the more information I hold, the easier it will be to speak with whomever will come into this tent once they realize I'm awake. Can you do this for me? For your daughter?" He asked with a heavy tone. Garrosh would need to finally know where he was, what this place was, and most importantly, its history; and were this one pony to cooperate honestly, he could find out all of these things simultaneously. Ditsy put a hoof around the back of her neck and rubbed it as she looked at the entrance of the tent. Garrosh was no fool; he knew that she had a fear of being caught helping him, so he played his "ace in the hole". "You owe me this much." He said with the voice of a poker winner. Ditsy only thought for a short amount of time after he played his "ace", before looking at him solemnly with... one of her eyes (Garrosh wasn't sure what the other one was looking at) and acknowledging. "Okay, what do you need to know?" The Previous Night Though Ponyville had been through a lot in recent years, it definitely looked like it'd seen better days, especially near the town square. The market street had bits and pieces of various vending carts littered all over the village's dirt road; Berry Punch's house was missing a whole wall along with many other houses missing their windows. Last, but certainly not least, was the decimated Town Hall. The once shining symbol of leadership that the earth pony town had shown with pride was now nothing more than a smoldering wreck of charred tinder and sooty cloth. The townsfolk didn't know where to start repairs, so they began by picking up the scattered cart and glass pieces. It took what was left of both the Wonderbolts and Shadowbolts not only to drag the beast responsible for all this to the grounds of the hospital, but also to gather their wounded. The Wonderbolts' list of injuries was small but indefinitely taxing: Spitfire was found to have been given both a concussion and a broken nose from the punch that the monster had earlier landed on her. Fleetfoot was very shaken up from the few hits she took, but she would make a quick recovery. Soarin, on the other hoof, was almost completely fine despite having Roseluck's flower cart smashed down on top of him at full force. Being the one to receive the first unsuspected hit, Rapidfire was out of it for a good few hours, but miraculously, the doctors detected no traces or signs of a concussion. Wave Chill was tough, for even though he'd taken several blows, he'd only suffered from moderate bruising. The Shadowbolts' injury roster was a tad bigger: Nightshade's throat had swollen to the point of her choking on every word that came out of her mouth. Though, after the doctors finished with standard repairs and procedures, she could breath relatively easily, the only price being her raspy, unrecognizable voice due to the temporary damage done to her larynx. Starry Skies suffered much the same as Fleetfoot, being given minor head trauma along with a flattened muzzle, but her injuries were mostly of her own making on account of her successful (If brash and reckless) attempt at rescuing Charger. The worst casualty on either team by far was Blueball Blitz: The poor pegasus had lost a copious amount of blood to the near-fatal open wound on her leg (Though through much wailing and nashing of teeth, she actually managed to cauterize it with her electricity), and the crushing blow she took to the ground by all rights should have killed her. With the aid of her conscious comrades, she did eventually reach the Critical Care Unit, but seeing as how the doctors and nurses of Ponyville General could do little against such extensive and irreparable damage, she was now on life support in the depths of a heavy coma, clinging to her very life by a thread. Aside from the worst thus mentioned, the others of the three groups bore only minor afflictions, such as trivial bumps and bruises, though even some of the Mane Six were recommended to stay in the hospital over-night for precautionary measures after their brawl with this... "Warchief". However, the thing that made the entire situation more complicated ten-fold, was the fact that the creature had rescued a foal from the burning Town Hall. Why it had done so was completely unclear to all those who'd had the displeasure of battling it, and to some, it seemed absolutely irrelevant. Still, what was done was done; the foal was safe, and the mother was now eternally indebted to "Warchief." The ponies had taken quite feverishly to calling the creature "Warchief," not using the word as a title, but as a name for the imposing beast. Currently, the three teams of Equestria were all going about doing different things whilst trying to lend support and help the situation in any way they could. The three Elements of Harmony that were not hospitalized were doing their utmost best to aid in cleaning up the marketplace. All of the Shadowbolts' members were in the infirmary; those that weren't seriously injured were there to get their minor wounds treated just for safety. The workers of Ponyville General Hospital had insisted on giving them all free medical attention for their heroic stand against the evil beast known as "Warchief." The Wonderbolts were elated that their arduous work did not go unappreciated, and gratefully accepted the medical treatment. Though with cases such as Spitfire, Nightshade, and Blitz, they had little to no choice in the matter. After all was said and done at Ponyville General, the list of ponies that could not leave the hospital grounds due to more severe injuries were as follows: Blueball Blitz. Spitfire. Nightshade. Rainbow Dash. Applejack. Twilight Sparkle. The Wonderbolts' team, seeing as how Soarin and Fleetfoot were both of equal rank of "1st Lieutenant," was thrown into utter chaos as its remaining members bickered and squabbled amongst themselves for the title of "Captain" due to reception of Spitfire being hospitalized for up to three, maybe even four days. The Shadowbolts all knew their secondary leader in Stratus, so that problem for them was solved momentarily. The remaining elements were devastated by the losses of their more combat-ready members as well as their company in general, but Pinkie was quick to cheer them up, reminding them that Twilight would only be staying one night just for safety reasons and that she would pull everything together once she got out. With the official leaders of the two flight teams and usual emissary of the group of heroes down for the count, the Elements of Harmony and Shadowbolts sat and waited patiently if anxiously for the decapitated Wonderbolts team to select a temporary leader. After an argument that briefly evolved into a shouting/boxing match, it soon became admittedly unanimous that both 1st Lieutenants seemed emotionally compromised at the moment and therefore should not be considered for command. The situation then lay in the subordinate hooves of the two 2nd Lieutenants, and given the favorable consistency of his opponent's credentials (That and the circumstances of a debilitating migraine headache,) Rapidfire relinquished his potential position to him. Wave Chill was then the new "Acting Captain" of the Wonderbolts, for they all decided so. The elements didn't normally view any of themselves as their leader; they merely ended up looking to Rarity as their representative, most likely due to her artful style of conversation. After an ungodly amount of time spent seeing to these mindlessly grueling tasks, the new ambassadors for each faction adjourned to a quieter place in the hospital just a room away from their groups in order to organize their next moves. At long last the three gangs of ponies could sit down and talk about what to do next regarding their incapacitated team members, the business involving the monster, and the Princess' informance of the whole situation. "Well, I believe we can all concur that that... thing is dangerous." Rarity stated, trying to get the conversation started on a better note than expected. It seemed to work for the most part, for Stratus and Chill both nodded in agreement with her statement. "We know it's dangerous, but what do we do with it when it recovers?" Wave Chill asked in a tone of morose much to Rarity's chagrin; it was normal for him yes, but neither of those two knew that. Rarity felt a slight shade of pink slip onto her cheeks as his smooth, aloof voice graced her ears. She then shifted her gaze to Stratus for a possible idea, though she couldn't for the life of her figure out what he was doing with his damaged wing when she looked. "I think we should inform Princess Luna that we have it in custody, as long as it's asleep that is." Stratus suggested as he looked to be preparing for something. His masculine voice sounded as though it were from South Canterlot or Trottingham, only it was ten times more gruff, more intimidating than anything. Almost as he was making his suggestion, Rarity grimaced, nauseated as she watched him stomp and tug on his limp injured wing in two jerked motions, snapping it violently back into position with a disgusting "pop!" The ghastly pegasus gave a small grunt of both pain and relief as he started flapping his wings vigorously to test what he'd done. Now she knew why he had refused treatment; the doctors that were trying to help him out earlier didn't dare get near the white wall of a stallion for fear of being savagely broken in half. "I think we should inform Princess Celestia of the same thing; informing Luna would be useless; she never gets anything done." Wave Chill jabbed, his insult dripping with pure contempt. While Rarity was more well acquainted with the solar princess, she certainly saw nothing to indicate that Luna was useless at all. "Oh.. and you think primpy 'sun butt's' any better? Yeah, I'm sure she'll just waltz right in to slay the beast and save the world and be the great infallible hero she always makes herself out to be, especially considering she's never lifted a hoof to save anypony in her buckin' life." Stratus gushed sardonically. Wincing at the harsh language used by the angered stallion, Rarity was starting to dislike both of these brutes; at this rate they would be killing each other in a few seconds, so she butted in. "I infer that we must inform both of them." She interjected swiftly while almost throwing herself between the two butting pegasi. "Perhaps with luck, they can both arrive to handle this monstrosity quickly, for we are clearly ill-equipped to deal with it ourselves. Don't you think?." she asked sternly. Content with her two bits thrown into the fray, she waited for any possible back-lash. "......She's right." stated Chill unexpectedly. "Sure...." Stratus said grudgingly after a few moments. He looked a trifle more un-pleased with the verdict than the rest of them, but agreed all the same since it would have been "two vs one" if he started a renewed debate about it. Rarity, on the other hoof, beamed at her plot's success, and with that all over and done with, she moved the meeting onward. "Well, with that issue settled, there is still the topic of where you two and your compatriots will be staying the night. As you know, you could quite possibly choose to pay for reservations at one of our local inns, but considering the events of today, I gather you would not relish the attention you'd both get. If you would so like, there are plenty of blankets at my boutique for both of you and your crew, and it would definitely suit your obvious need for a low-profile stay." She grinned as she offered expertly. Her salesponyship at Carousel Boutique was really paying off, that and she was the Element of Generosity after all. Stratus accepted the proposition gratefully on the one condition that nopony know of his team's stay, but Wave Chill was more apprehensive of the whole idea. "We are Wonderbolts, madame; we're trained to sleep on a bed of nails if the need arises. Besides, surely you wouldn't want us in your mane all night." He spoke pridefully with a voice smooth as warm butter as Stratus just rolled his eyes at the evident boast. Despite her best efforts, a profuse blush found its way onto Rarity's face at the unlikely implied meaning of Wave Chill's last sentiment. "Why in Equestria did he have to word it like that?!" Were her thoughts as she nearly face-hoofed herself for such a gutter-minded fantasy. Setting all this aside quickly, she came to one conclusion: Rarity was not about to allow The Wonderbolts to sleep on the streets if she could offer them anything better. "Nonsense, darling! I insist." Rarity persisted as she gave her signature trio of blinks towards him. The stallion to whom she just spoke shuffled awkwardly under her whimsical gaze before finally renouncing his hold in this... semi-pointless debate. "Very well, Madame Rarity, your hospitality is much appreciated." He finally said as he gave her the first half-smile she had seen from him since they'd been introduced. "Marvelous, darlings!" She chimed chipperly "Now, let's rally the others and head home; I don't fancy being out after dark too much." Informed the prim fashionista. With little hesitation, the two battle-hardened bolts then went their separate ways to gather their remaining members. The ponies that were not discussing those matters had spent all that time finishing up the last few tasks on the market street, for Town Hall's clean-up was a whole new ball game that none of them wished to play. Meaning they were very ready to wash up and call it a day when their representatives finally came to collect them. Once the bolts of the sun and moon had successfully gathered their teams and said their goodbyes to their slightly-broken members, they all followed Rarity to her boutique in dead silence. Once their short walk across the restaurant sector to the large tailoring shop on the outskirts of town was done, and after everypony had sufficiently showered to each's contentment (Rarity was sure her water bill would double that month, if she was lucky), she placed both teams in the atrium of her abode seeing as how it was the only room in the building large enough to accommodate the number of ponies she was housing for the night. Even still, it would not require a genius to discover that this was not a good idea. Wave Chill hated the very conviction of staying so close to a darkness-oriented band of ex-criminal mercs, let alone sleeping next to them. Despite being a creature of a dark past and appearance, Wave Chill abhorred the night and all it stood for. He still had not forgiven Princess Luna for her betrayal one thousand years ago, or the Shadowbolts for all the trouble they had caused his family in previous years. He lay in his sleeping bag nearly all night, but his anger did not let him close is eyes even once. Soarin, on the other end of the spectrum, was a very gracious colt; he truly held no grudges against Luna or the Shadowbolts since they both were now on his side after Luna's concession. He also bore a surprisingly clear conscience. That being said, the strong, lovable teddy bear of a stallion was the first among the crew to fall asleep as usual. Rapidfire felt as though he'd moved a mountain that day despite the fact that he was unconscious for most of the fight with "Warchief," so his persistent fatigue aided him in falling asleep nearly as fast as Soarin did. Fleetfoot's head was still throbbing madly after all that time; she couldn't really think about anything intently without wanting to scream. That beast had really clocked her well. She was far from the top of the list to find sleep first, but she wasn't the last to do so. There was where the worst of her predicament lay, for no matter how much she wished she could dream of something else, anything else, she could not stop picturing the death-loving look in "Warchief's" demonic yellow eyes. On the other side of the room and proverbial coin, the Shadowbolts were having their own troubles sleeping. Startus, being an ex-royal guard, could almost fall asleep on a whim, so he used this strange talent to finally get some real rest. He trusted the fact that his enemies would not attack them if left unprovoked. Charger was far too exhausted to care about the "bad guys" being in the same room as he, but he was willing to stay for a few more moments just to contemplate the un-admitted impetuousness with which Starry Skies had rescued his hide from being crushed under the boot of the beast. In the end, his wonderings were inconclusive, he was open-mouthed snoring within minutes. Speaking of poor Starry Skies, she had rolled over to catch a peek at the Wonderbolts' side of the room over Stratus' sleeping form, only to be greeted by two, cold, unfeeling grey eyes staring straight at her; this caused her to flinch and instantly dart back to her laying position. With the unsettling thought of that creepy, brooding, unstable Wonderbolt still awake, true sleep never found the unfortunate, spent mare. Garrosh knew everything, but knew nothing at the same time. The orc's history lesson with Ditsy was not only mind-numbingly confusing, but it was positively incredible. Simply the knowledge that their so called "Goddesses" ruled both the sun and moon cycles was difficult to swallow, but then there was learning about their "cutie marks," their purposes and affects, and the battle between the two royal sisters. This was nothing though, for hearing the story of how the Moon Goddess was defeated, and placed in the very lunar sphere that she was entrusted with as punishment rung out with pure cruel irony. Another story Ditsy told him was the story of The Elements of Harmony; It was the dumbest name he'd ever heard for a powerful set of artifacts yet. However, hearing the tale of the six embodying mares not only vanquishing the moon devil for a second time, but saving her, and offering her another chance to do good in this world was indeed worthy of a bedtime storybook. The tale of the Deity of Chaos known only as Discord, his reign, and his defeat was a whole new level of bizarre. The unlimited power to turn an entire complex realm of reality and everything in it solely upside-down with the simple snap of a finger not only squandered in something as petty and trivial as cotton candy clouds, chocolate rain, and a myriad of other topsy-turvy perversions of nature, but defeated for once again a second time by these same "Elements of Harmony" was both mentally staggering and physically painful for him to sit through. The final story from the ditsy mare came when he asked what the ponies did before their goddesses rose up to man the sun and moon. Ditsy told the orc the story of how Equestria was originally founded: The Hearth Warming's Eve story of the Unicorn Princess, the Pegasus Commander, the Earth Pony Chancellor, and all three of their ill-favored advisers. The story entailed the malady of the frost plague that tore through their old lands in the forms of "windigos," and the final confrontation among the three factional leaders that resulted in their three inferiors being brought together in love, tolerance, friendship, and harmony. The stories that Garrosh's new friend had told him were absolutely mind-boggling! He was a little glad they were finally over; now all he had to do was wait for Ditsy to return with the items he asked of her. Garrosh blank gaze met the floor in deep thought as all Ditsy had just taught him began to sink in. "These.... 'Embodyments of Harmony' were the first to fight me; why did they not use the same power that defeated everything else on me?" He pondered tentatively. "Unless, of course, everything here is that un-formidable..." Still, he continued. "Ugh! And all of this.... tolerance and.... friendship, if they truly believed in such stupid ideals, then they wouldn't have driven me from my lunch! They wouldn't have electrocuted me to a near crisp!" He subconsciously growled as his thoughts rambled and raged. "This whole planet stinks of childishness; its sun and moon revolve around it with the aid of two horses with horns and wings for ancestors' sake!" His mind regarded scornfully until he finally spoke out loud to himself. "Bah! It doesn't matter. Soon Ditsy will return with the tools necessary, and my plan shall come to fruition!" He determined confidently. Garrosh's plan was to escape yes, but not to run. He would show them his bountiful strength, and then he would tell them he was not going to fight. It was an ancient orc tactic that would work for impressing captors into releasing you; it was an old plan, but he knew it would work, it just had to work. The ponies that had "captured" him still did not know that he was awake, So he just sat and kept on waiting for Ditsy's return. The Warchief's thoughts inevitably began to wander back over the more confusing of the information he had just received; it simply didn't make any sense! "Why would this... 'Celestia' forgive her sister's betrayal so easily? Why would 'Luna' not attempt to fight again?" In the entire line of history that he'd just been taught, nothing these creatures ever did created any form of logic in his eyes. It mattered little, for soon he would meet these immortal princesses himself, then he would decide if they would be friend or foe...... "Where the hell is that mare?!" Garrosh thought fitfully; he could have sworn what he asked for was not that hard to obtain. Still, if it wasn't, she was certainly taking her sweet, fat time getting back to him. Only after Garrosh thought about leaving without the tools did the bubbly pegasus finally show up. Ditsy huffed and panted as she entered the tent; it was as if she just ran a marathon. "I'm back!" She announced with an exhausted tone. "...But this was all I could find." She admitted in defeat as she held up a pitchfork with her right wing. All the Warchief had asked for was a sturdy, reliable, semi-good weapon.... this was not it at all. "A pitchfork? A pitchfork was the best you could find?!" He hissed. Though his anger was not truly directed at her, she had no way of knowing that. Ditsy recoiled slightly from the orc's displayed anger. It was then that orc realized what he as doing and calmed himself. "I'm not angry with you," He strained as he started massaging his aching temples. He neutrally reached out his hand and took the blasted farming tool from Ditsy's wing. Her bit of tension left her after hearing and seeing that he wasn't lying as if it had never been in the first place. "I am angry with this... this thing!" He shook the weapon around as he spoke. He knew that no matter how much he complained about it, things would not be getting any better; the pitchfork was his only option. Garrosh sighed in disappointment as he came to the conclusion: "It will have to do." "So what's the plan?" Ditsy asked with what looked like a child's excitement. Garrosh genuinely didn't know if he should share his plan with this mare. Sure, she had a very sweet disposition about her, but that's almost definitely counter-productive in the way of concealing secrets. Sure, she assisted him in making this operation a possibility, but even were he not to tell her right then, she would still find out soon enough. So after briefly mulling it over, he decided to keep his plan to himself for safety's sake. "I'm afraid you'll just have to watch." He whispered to her mischievously. Thankfully, it seemed only to quell her happy mood for but a split second before she became even more nervous in anticipation of the plan's actions, yet Garrosh's confidence couldn't be higher. "Worry not, young Ditsy, for this plan has never yet failed." He wasn't lying; he himself had never tried this tactic before, but he'd heard legend after legend of it working before. His mind ensured him that this would undoubtedly work through one simple question: "How hard could it be?" "You shouldn't stay here; as soon as I exit from the front, make a break out the back, understand?" He instructed the mare. She nodded and smiled giddily at him as she trotted anxiously to the back of the tent. Garrosh removed all the white medical bandages from his body before doing anything else when he heard Ditsy's voice call after him softly. "If you can, try not to hurt anypony, okay?" she asked in a slightly worried tone. "If I can, no promises." He knew that must not have been very comforting for someone in her position, but he wasn't about to lie to her. After that, he turned his gaze's focus back to the tent's entrance. Steadying himself for anything that waited outside, Hellscream took the pitchfork tightly in his right hand, and then marched un-hesitantly out of the tent into the town.