Chapter 8: Greeting the Sun
Garrosh Hellscream sauntered once again out of the false security of the medical tent, the bright rays of the now-setting sun once again blinding him for a moment. Looking to the skies, he instantly caught sight of a few pegasi still flying around, cleaning up any stray clouds in the area above. To him, it was a shame that they couldn't just leave the forlorn stragglers be; he rather liked the puffy white clumps that added to the already magnificently painted orange sky. For a serene moment in time, the Warchief stood to gaze upon the continuing process as hints of brilliant purple and vibrant blue streaked across the vast, open horizon, creating one of the most beautiful sunsets he'd ever seen.
By the time his eyes had fully adjusted to the piercing remnants of the slowly-fading light, he saw that Princess Luna was still holding her hoof over her face as a shield. Garrosh fully expected this; he also half expected this "Princess Celestia" to be deathly afraid of the dark, and gave a mental smirk at such a humorous prospect. Looking ahead in the mountain city's direction, Garrosh spotted an incoming aerial carriage. Upon naturally tentative observation, he deduced that Its frame was constructed purely of gold, but the outer middle of the gaudy transport was laden with a lavish, violet felt. The extravagant craft's wheels and hub caps were not skimped on at all either, as they too were built of solid gold; even its connector rods were made of the heavily pliable metal! It made Garrosh self-contented inside knowing just how easy it would be to crush such a fragile chariot if the need ever arose.
The orc's arrogant eyes then strayed to the soldiers who were pulling the pathetic device; they looked as intimidating as the carriage was fortified. The four stalwart creatures' coats were of a stainless white, but their manes were mostly obscured by their large helmets. The vanguards' armor was, yet again, melded from gold; it was also very oddly-built regarding their quadruped forms, thus making it fairly unconvincing, not in any risque way, but in an unpractical one. The orc finally concluded that the only aspect of the armor worthy of a positive note was its craftsmanship. The armor's detailing and shape was quite flawlessly done, meaning they surely must have had an extremely skilled blacksmith forge it on bulk commission. Garrosh decided to completely ignore their helmets though, seeing as how all they seemed to do was remind him of a Stormwind Trooper's helm.
The final thing Garrosh's eyes fell to, was the vague yet luminous silhouette of a female alicorn sitting rigidly within the center of the weakly construct. While it seemed everyone in the vicinity awaited her timely appearance with bated breath, the stubborn orc leader merely stood slouched and unaffected; he knew full well that she was probably scrutinizing his every move intently from the shadow of her carriage. Suddenly, a previously unnoticed, ceremonial-looking vanguard withdrew from his post at the back of the coach and proceeded to make his way to its side; this must have been the Royal Footman. "...Or "Hoofman.'" Garrosh inwardly snickered at his own meager jest as the small stallion slowly and theatrically opened the carriage door. Stepping lightly from the confines of the carriage with a thoroughly practiced grace and elegance, was something even Garrosh almost hadn't expected, and the admittedly curious orc once more set about observing this second divulgence. To remark that she was merely as beautiful as he'd been repeatedly told, once again, would be labelled an understatement punishable by execution; she could have easily rivaled the setting sun he'd just witnessed only moments ago: Her mane and tail, just as Princess Luna's, flowed exquisitely within the same unseen, ethereal current of wind. Just as Luna, she bore a crown atop her head and a breastplate at her chest, but unlike Luna's however, the ensemble was of the same gold as her coach and men and accented with a some kind of large, purple gem engraved in each. Also unlike Luna's, her mane was comprised of such soft and playful colors he would so often catch fleeting glimpses of whilst attending a Noblegarden festival: A velvety pink of direct imitation of the streaks across the evening sky, a mesmerizing and sparkling periwinkle blue, and a joyful sea-foam green. If one of these creatures were to tell him that the brilliant colors of the sky cast by the rising sun were all crafted in her image, he would have sincerely believed them. His eyes then scanned farther over to her coat. He quickly found that it was the sort of blinding, angelic white he only thought some other-worldly deity would be envisioned sporting; he now knew why the inhabitants of this land all thought her exactly such. Garrosh never thought something could look so uncontestably clean! He knew for a fact that she had been in the short scuffle in Tartarus that The Lunar Princess had just told him about, and yet, here this fur looked as though it were kept untouched and preserved religiously through the thousands of years of her supposed existence. The magnificent coat was only enhanced by the presence of such fine, pristine wings; he thought they might have compared to those of some of the healthier phoenixes near the summit of Mount Hyjal. Just as he had observed her sister before her, the last feature he beheld were her eyes; this was something that Garrosh had expected. As he peered into the deceivingly demure expression of her poised face, as he delved into those vast, violet oceans that were her stunningly sightless eyes, he felt a mirrored affect as opposed to her sister's gaze. Just as Luna's affect had been cold, dark, and imposing, Celestia's gaze felt warm, bright, and hospitable. Where Luna had caught him off guard, Celestia aimed to comfort him. Where Luna bore the crescent moon, Celestia bore the noon sun. Literally everything about these two were polar opposites! "No wonder one turned on the other after so long..." Garrosh mused briefly to himself. If he didn't know how naive and trusting this one decidedly was, he would have thought her a wonderful leader... based on her appearance. The problem for her was that.... He did know better.
"Please, Warchief, do try to make a good first impression." The orc heard Luna's voice whisper. He didn't find himself too concerned with this meeting, for he knew nearly all about this..."Sun Goddess" already.
Celestia finally made way from her carriage and started stepping uniformly towards him and Luna; it was at the point where she was facing him directly that he first took note of the small gash on her left side, as if a sword had sliced down her chest in between the base of her neck and her wing. "Perhaps the 'Lunar One' was telling the truth after all." Garrosh thought as he viewed the tell-tale injury. As he looked briefly from the wound, he saw all four of her guards take up their spears and fall into formation right along side their leader; it was a blatantly pious, and pompous act that made the Warchief sick to watch. As the group of five marched candidly up until they stood only a meter from the Warchief............ Silence was all that seemed to follow. Garrosh could see how Luna slightly shifted anxiously in his peripheral vision, and he could virtually smell the fear that the stone-faced vanguards thought they were hiding. However, The Solar Goddess' face was the only one he could not read; it was as if her thoughts were empty and devoid of any emotion, and yet, he could see her mind feverishly working behind those devious eyes: This one was a schemer for the millennia. The two envoys each stared at the other for nearly a half-minute, until the deafening quiet was mercilessly shattered by something all too recognizable. Nearly all in the area knew Garrosh's dietary status when his stomach decided to let out an unbelievably loud "Growl".
Luna all but face-hoofed as Garrosh casually thought back to the last time he had eaten; it had nearly been two days ago! It still enraged him to think about those "maggots" who had interrupted his hearty feasting the day before. The guards hugged their spears all the closer whilst subtly lowering them in his direction, but even with them outnumbering him (and with spears while he stood unarmed no less,) he still determined that they would not outmatch him. He would never know entirely for sure however, for Celestia, much to the surprise of everyone around, began chuckling!
After laughing for a few discernible seconds, she at last broke the wordless abyss. "Perhaps, we should talk over dinner?" Hearing her voice was indescribable. It carried so much ageless wisdom with one simple sentiment, and it sounded like the voice of an angel; her voice even somehow reminded him of someone, but for the life of him, he just couldn't quite figure out who at the time. Garrosh was far from fooled by all of that though, for he could practically feel the political guile and falseness emanating from her very core. Despite the direction of his feelings, he replied civilly.
"I have not eaten in over a day, Princess; I believe it would be wise to eat before we exchanged our stories." He leveled with her coolly, but he was not done yet. "But on one condition: I want all who fought with me when I arrived here present for this dinner." Celestia didn't look phased in the slightest, but still he was not yet done. "And we must make this relatively quick; I've already promised dinner with another tonight." It was this time that Celestia's mask of iron faltered for but a split second, showing a small amount of shock before it was quickly donned again.
"It shall be done, though it will take us near an hour to prepare this dinner, will that suffice?" Celestia asked with a calm and rational tone. Garrosh then threw a long glance to the old clock tower that sat on the other side of town; it took him a bit to see what time it was, but seeing as how it was only six in the afternoon, he reluctantly agreed.
"Very well, Princess, I shall be in my tent until you send word for me." He had only just turned and started for his infirmary tent when he remembered something critically important. "Oh! And please be sure that meat is on the menu." He spoke without turning around as he marched back to the tent. He didn't even bother peeking over his shoulder to see if they had likewise agreed, even though their reactions were most likely priceless. He didn't really much care; he was going to take a nap while they dawdled about preparing his food, and nothing was going to stop him.
Garrosh's eyes, unlike last time, didn't sting as he opened them. in fact, he actually felt rather well rested. The problem he found this time, was that he was most definitely not where he had fallen asleep a few minutes ago. Garrosh saw nothing but white mist as he rose warily to his feet, and he stood up only to find that as far as his eyes could see, there was nothing to be had but horribly dense fog. Garrosh could see nothing through these thick shrouds of mist; not even the ground he was standing upon was visible to him! The fearful orc was beginning to think that he was stuck in some kind of limbo; that was, until he saw something approaching him. From what little he could see, it looked to be wearing a black cloak and hood, and though it was a great deal smaller than he was, he still felt a nagging sense of uneasiness from it. "Who are you!? And where have taken me!?" He demanded to the mystic figure; after a response only of silence, once again he called out to it. "Is this some sort of conjurer's trick!? Show yourself, devil!" It was when Garrosh shouted these words that It ceased its approach, and removed its shadowy hood. The sight that greeted the Warchief when it revealed itself, though unexpected to him, was a face he did not mind seeing at all: Geyah.
"Hello, young Hellscream, it is good to see you doing so well in your new home so far." She said with much happiness in her tone. Every thing about that statement threw Garrosh for a loop; whatever did she mean by.... "new home?" A very large part of him was filled with doubt and befuddlement, for this part genuinely knew not what she officially meant. A very small, minute, and skulking part of him however, was filled with sublime dread, for this part knew exactly what she could mean.
"'New home?' 'Doing well?' What do you speak of, Greatmother?" He cautiously asked, a manifested confusion masking the fear in his voice. Geyah gave him a kind (if a bit cheeky) smile before she spoke his answer.
"Your time on Azeroth has long since come to an end, my youngling. Your time in this place, your new home, has only just begun." Garrosh inferred that he should place more trust in this minor part of himself from that point onward. That didn't matter to the Warchief though, for from the moment she declared that inevitable truth, every part of him was screaming but one simple phrase: "...Hell no!"
"No.... No! This is impossible! My time on Azeroth couldn't possibly be over now, surely I'll return there soon!" His anger boiled the blood that flowed through his veins at increasing speeds as he looked for something to smash with his bear hands in his overwhelming rage, but it then occurred to him that she had never lied to anyone before, and would not be doing so now. "Won't I?" As odd as it may sound, the manic orc's voice actually cracked as he asked her with an uncharacteristic desperation therein. Seeing as how panicked and how doubtful her poor pupil was, she did not hesitate to answer him patiently.
"You will not be returning to Azeroth, nor Outlands, not until you are ready, ready to face your demons and cleanse your name of all its past sins." Garrosh didn't want to admit it, but he knew exactly what most of these sins entailed. He had intended to absolve himself of those sins when his people finally realized what a force they were again and how easily kept safe they would be from all who would ever oppose them, but how to possibly make amends here in this alien world he had no idea. How to make himself "ready" to accomplish this seemingly impossible feat, on the same hand, he had even less of an idea, but judging by the look Geya was giving him as she said all these things, she knew what he had to do. It greatly eased his mind knowing that returning home someday, according to The Greatmother, was not going to be as impossible as it seemed.
"What does all of this mean, Greatmother? What must I do to be ready?" He asked with a potentially false hope swelling involuntarily in his chest. Even if she told him to crush a hulking army rear-end naked, he was certain he could do it if it meant granting his passage home.
"You must learn many things, Hellscream, but above all else, you must learn them before your sins catch up with you. For once they do, you will be faced with a choice... the choice to either become a great hero, or the villain that you proved you were before, and it will not be as easy as you think..." Garrosh once thought with certainty that all he would need to do was a few half-hearted good deeds, but after he allowed what she last said to sink in, he was left with confidence utterly cracked. "...I know that you will make the right choice, Garrosh." She spoke with her own benevolent confidence as she pulled her hood up, still looking him in the eye with a soft, maternal smile. "Now, I believe you have two dinners for which you mustn't be late; I leave you to them." She said with a small bow as she began to part away.
"Why must you always leave me, Greatmother?" He asked sullenly in an thinly-veiled attempt to make her stay. "Why must I do this alone?" It worked, if only for a moment.
"You are far from alone young one, you will have many companions; some new, and perhaps some old, if you know where to look." She cracked that compassionate smile one last time before disappearing into the enfolding mists.
Garrosh looked to his hands to see that he was once again fading, but he could hear a voice in the distance. As if a kind of cruel irony, he closed his eyes once more and very clearly heard the voice of a child repeat: "Wake up."
"Wake up, Mr. Garrosh!" The orc heard that same child's voice call out, and now that he had time to recall, he knew just what familiar voice was calling him. He opened his heavy eyelids to see a beaming Dinky Doo standing atop a short stack of books just to reach facial level with him (even though he was lying down.) He smiled (on the inside, mind you) as he sat upright, and finding he was indeed where he had originally laid down to sleep, he breathed a rare sigh of relief as he stiffly rose to his feet, the little filly still watching his every move from her humble perch. For the first time since meeting him, the unicorn child was now able to see just how immensely towering her new friend truly was. "Wow..... You're really tall!" She exclaimed in awed surprise. As Garrosh looked down at the beaming filly who stared back up at him, he could see an obvious want in the glint of her eye; he didn't need a crystal ball to tell him what she was about to say, or rather, ask next. "Can I sit on your shoulder? Um, if you don't mind." She asked with an abundance both of politeness and innocence. While he couldn't find the gall to refuse the adorable little foal, he was still going to metaphorically kick her for the gross misusage of the word "can."
"I know not, young filly." Garrosh declared nonchalantly after a cavernous yawn; he could have sworn Dinky was just picking up on where he was going with that. "Can you?" He asked with a mischievous self-satisfied grin. If he was going to end up giving a child a ride on his shoulders, he was at least going to have himself some fun before hand.
Dinky, looking down to the floor bashfully, began idly kicking at the dirt with her right front hoof while letting out a groan and mutterings along the lines of "Sounding just like mom." She then revised her previous request. "May I sit on your shoulder, Mr. Garrosh?" She asked, all but spitting the word "may."
"Good enough" He thought as he suddenly scooped her up in one hand and placed her with care upon his shoulders, the little rascal giggling the whole way up. Garrosh had to admit it: It was impossible to say no to this enchanting ball of fur.
The orc with his new shoulder-parrot marched out into the setting sun. seeing that the sun was nearly all below the mountainous horizon, he didn't know why no one had come yet to inform him that the dinner with the princesses was ready to begin. Then again, he may have been giving them far too much credit, thinking it would be ready by this time. Garrosh looked up to the clock tower to see that it was already 7:14 in the evening, confused and slightly insulted by their tardiness, he just stood at the tents entrance, waiting for these blasted equines to send for him.
"Soooo, what are the princesses like?" Asked the positively giddy pony on his shoulder. Tearing his gaze away from the direction of the clock tower, Garrosh turned to her in a quick, side-ways glance and replied.
"I've a few ideas, but none are for certain; ask me after this meeting, little one." The orc gave a tired sigh. "I believe... I am not going to enjoy this." He added with distaste. He was really not looking forward to this farce of a so-called dinner, for he knew they had not come to eat; they had simply come to ask endless, prying questions and study his every habit and idiosyncrasy. Though he knew it was something he could quite possibly do without, he also knew it was the only good chance he had that they would willingly let him continue on towards his blacksmith in the mountain city.
"Why do you say that?" Inquired the filly next to his left ear. Garrosh knew he couldn't start going on a rant, but if he could just somehow keep rational (something that admittedly never came easily for the temperamental orc,) he could calmly manage to explain to Dinky just how unbearably tedious this future task was to be.
"The creatures of this strange world have obviously never seen or heard of someone.... somepony such as me ever before." If there were one phrase in these creatures' customized vocabulary Garrosh loathed the most, it would most definitely be that one, but for the sake of Dinky, he would stoically bare it for the time being. Meanwhile, unaware of his un-Equestrian slip, the aforementioned filly gave an affirmative nod as if to trample any doubt that that was the case. Seeing that she'd so far understood him, the Warchief continued. "And so they've resorted to trying to keep me here as long as they can in order to interrogate me about my very existence." the Warchief scowled just thinking of their tactic.
"'In-te-rro-gate?'" Dinky slowly mouthed the word aloud as if the word were alien to her.
"...To ask many questions, or to question extensively." The Warchief explained its meaning like a teacher would. It took a second or two to register with her, but nonetheless it did.
"Oh!.... I hope Miss Cheerilee didn't teach us that word earlier and I just forgot about it." The lavender filly voiced her initial thoughts. Garrosh had no idea what a "Cheerilee" was; he assumed it was some sort of class instructor, but he forewent his curiosity in favor of continuing.
"I have a distinct feeling that those endless questions will be what this so-called 'dinner' is all about." Garrosh knew deep down that it wasn't the wisest or the most healthy of him to think constant and consistent ill intent of every single one of these simple creatures, but it was a habit that the Warchief always had and couldn't be bothered to suppress right then. This habit hadn't proved detrimental as of yet, for the one with whom he'd been sharing in this little chat had her mind in something else altogether.
"Well... Where are you trying to go in such a hurry?" Dinky asked with the unmistakably innocent tone of a young child, to which Garrosh sighed and answered her as best he could.
"When I arrived here, I didn't exactly have what an orc would need for a comfortable survival." Briefly glancing to the stubby little horn upon Dinky's forehead, he figured since these creatures would probably know all about magical properties, he could offer a bit further a depth to his explanation, so without a second thought, he carried on. "Being an orc, I was born into a world where you are... defined by your skill in battle. Because of this, an orc's three most important requirements are these:" He then raised his left hand holding up three fingers, and to emphasize his next point to her, began counting them off as he spoke. "Food, armor, and weaponry. I had none of these three necessities when I was suddenly teleported to this world. So naturally, I've spent all the time since I've been here looking for a place that could accommodate my needs." He paused for moment to see just exactly how much of his answer managed to sink in. He was certain he had just bored to poor filly to tears with such dry and mundane talk, but looking over to said filly, he found that she listening rather intently and thus, decided to finish his explanation. "That mountain city yonder..." Garrosh pointed off into the distance in the direction of the city. "...is obviously just that kind of place."
"Canterlot?" Little Dinky asked sounding mildly surprised.
"So that is its name;" Garrosh's thoughts were instantly drawn to how that name coincidentally resembled the term for the type of fast walk that a horse could make. "I sense an annoying pattern." Garrosh was starting to see these creatures as very self-obsessed, but he knew that this was just another maddening oddity that he just going to have to get used to while here. Not wanting to let Dinky onto his train of thought, and weary of continually talking about where he intended to go (this was sure to be one of the many subjects of this upcoming "dinner,") he suddenly chose to stick with answering: "Yes." Dinky unexpectedly nuzzled into the side of his neck and then said something even more unexpected.
"Well, I dunno where you came from or how long you'll be in Canterlot, but I hope you come back soon and visit me and Mom; I know I'll miss you." The dumbfounded orc didn't know exactly how to respond to what she just said, but he certainly knew how to feel about it: Conflicted. This young filly was truly beginning to tear at the cold, hard chains that had wrapped around his blackened heart with weathering age. At every turn, she never failed to surprise him with her unlikely fondness for him; it was something he knew he could never fully understand no matter how ardently he tried. Perhaps she indeed saw something in him that he couldn't see within himself; maybe it was the same thing The Great Mother happened to see in him. Or perhaps this behavior was attributed to some overbearing emotion going back to when he pulled her from the town hall's flames. The one thing Garrosh did know about this was that he was going to drive himself mad if went on trying to deduce it like this, so without further fueling the slight headache he'd already given himself, he responded in kind, bring his hand up to stroke her on the back as when they'd first met.
He and Dinky waited there like that for about another minute after their little conversation had occurred, when finally not one, but two silhouettes of ponies began to approach them. Focusing his vision on them, he found that one was the dubious leader of the mysteriously nameless flight group, and the other was the grudge-bearing Wave Chill. He gave them his best death glare since they too both looked like they wanted to kill him several times over. Dinky, seeing Garrosh's scowl toward them and realizing that they were the ones who had fought with him, took the initiative as well and gave her best glare down to the two pegasi, but only ended up coming off as a pouty face, far more cuddly than anything intended. After a probable few seconds which felt like long hours of them getting ever closer, they halted only a mere two yards from the brown colossus. Finally deciding to break the hateful, long-term silence, The nameless leader announced.
"The princesses are ready to see you now, Warchief." It wasn't her spitting his title in disgusted sarcasm that grabbed his attention; it was the raspy, almost demonic state of her voice. It sounded as though she'd been gargling nails with a hint of demon's blood! It was only after he heard it and remembered that he had punched her in the throat during the battle in the town's square that he started chuckling. What was chuckling then burst into a full-blown guffaw as her glare could probably burn a laser hole through any mere pony. Such a pity for her he was an orc (and a uncompromising warchief, to boot;) he saw such looks on a daily or even minutely basis in the past and thus, was used to it. After his boisterous laughter died down, Garrosh then spoke to the furious one who spoke.
"It looks as though I've done you a favor; your voice could curdle milk! It would probably be your greatest achievement so far, 'Miscreant.'" Perhaps next time you'll stop and think before openly challenging a Hellscream." He proclaimed these words as would a victor to his prey. He then continued. "Now, if you're all done giving my little friend here nightmares with your detestable voice, then lead us to this 'meeting.'" He demanded on a final note. Garrosh vaguely heard Dinky muttering that the miscreant's voice wasn't that scary, but he could tell immediately she was lying.
"As you wish, Warchief." Hissed Wave Chill, who's common voice most likely frightened Dinky nearly just as much as the "miscreant's" did. He did however take note of how he had referred to him by title without forcing it out like a grape stuck in his throat.
"Lead the way, Wave Chill." Garrosh responded with the same tone as he. Wave Chill did turn to him in meager surprise, but only for a split second before nodding trotting forward. As they walked, Garrosh thought of the many things he could discuss with these two before they arrived at the place where this meeting was to occur, but the most preeminent subject on that list that he kept circling back to in his head, was the bitch that had almost defeated him.
"So 'Miscreant,' how's your little electrified friend?" He asked with a very cruel jeer. Garrosh saw Wave Chill grimace knowingly as he asked that question, and he soon learned why. Garrosh barely had time to finish the question before the nameless one let out a chuckle, and not a humored chuckle in any case; it was the kind of aggressive, offended chuckle of someone who'd just had their feathers vigorously ruffled. spinning around on the spot with lightning-quick reflexes, she defiantly addressed him with a look and tone absolutely inundated with a homicidal kind of rage.
"My name... is not... "Miscreant!" It's Nightshade to the likes of something like you, you son of a bitch! And if you've got to know, my teammate is in a coma that she may not come out of thanks to you!" She yelled as if possessed as she hovered up to eye-level with the Warchief. Through with screeching through a battered larynx, she settled for using her demonic voice to her advantage as she carried on fuming at him. "Just know that if she dies, nothing, not even the princesses will stop me from doing anything in my power to make you suffer! Are. we. clear. on. that?!" Her unnaturally yellow eyes almost seemed to glow in the dusky setting as she annunciated each word with a boiling, unstable tone. It was a bit more violent a reaction than what Garrosh had expected, but he could work with it. He hunched over towards her until they were face to face and spoke again.
"Of course, but you don't have any power, do you?" He asked mockingly. Nightshade gave only a wicked, bided smile to his face as she turned around, fell silently to the ground, and kept on walking. It was only after that ordeal had occurred that he realized that a petrified Dinky was clinging tightly to his neck while looking away with her eyes clenched shut. He reached up subtly to calm her down by tousling her mane. Had he not been in the presence of those two toadies, he would have slapped himself upside the head for putting her through all that, but Garrosh was not quite done trying to rile these two, if for nothing else other than revenge.
"And what about you, Wave Chill? Have you been promoted due to Spitfire's failure? Or is she simply too frightened to attend this herself?" Wave Chill's reaction was more like what Garrosh had expected, he indifferently kept walking as he answered, paying as little a mind to him as possible.
"She will be present at the banquet, but she asked me to collect you in her stead due to the injury she has sustained in the line of duty." He responded calmly and almost robotically, but still a vessel for his dark manner. Garrosh just passed it off as Spitfire either being too lazy, or being too cowardice, either reason seeming to fit what he saw in her personality accordingly.
After his pokings and proddings at them, he remain silent for the rest of the walk there. Garrosh was not sure why he had decided to pester them in the first place; perhaps he still wanted revenge on the two teams for attacking and nearly killing him. Perhaps it was this so-called "monster" that The Great Mother kept saying was within him momentarily bubbling up to his surface. Either way, antagonizing them and testing their tolerance levels was surely a better option than remaining silent for the whole of this ill-intended trip.
The extremely disgruntled group of four trekked across the small earth pony town with relative ease; Garrosh got many different types of stares from the locals who were finishing up their day: Some that plainly despised him, others that showed caution, dread, or fear, but a few sparse equines actually muscled out smiles (Albeit small and unconfident ones) and waved their front hooves at him in a somewhat friendly greeting. Gradually, the town's inhabitants became more few far and inbetween as the group slowly but surely traveled out of the quieting town and into the surrounding plains. Garrosh was starting to wonder where in this bizarre, sylvan countryside these two buffoons were taking him. About five minutes from the time he began to question the destination of this unneeded venture, he concluded that it would be best to speak up to them before they got him lost; for all he knew, these two may have been setting him up for a coordinated ambush by both teams... or worse.
"Where in Ancestors' name are you taking us?" He asked in a loud grumble, earning only an exaggerated eye-roll from Nightshade who was now hovering along with one of her front hooves to her head. Garrosh was was just about to assume the worst when his decision to go no further was intervened by the words of a grounded, and more helpful Wave Chill.
"To the designated rendezvous point just up ahead; the princess' wanted nopony to interfere with 'intergalactic relations.'" Chill dispensed this information like a Gnomereganian medical assistant bot would have. Garrosh had to snort in an effort to conceal an already obvious outburst of laughter.
"'Intergalactic relations?'" The Warchief chuckled out. "Now that is truly something; at least you ponies are somewhat amusing." Wave Chill continued marching, easily ignoring the obnoxious orc's jabs at what he'd heard it entitled by Celestia herself.
The remainder of the trip persisted in silence, even on the part of Dinky who'd a while ago shared in a couple giggles at the orc's humor; that was, until they finally arrived at their destination.
Stats
Page generated in 0.023 seconds
Total duration
874 users online
540,828 hits today, 2,004,447 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
YEA GREAT CHAPTER BUDDIE!! I cant wait till warlords comes out (or is it out already) what ever will happen to Garrosh. Does nightshade really think she stands any sort of chance. Finde out next time on Fate of The Warchief
4886515 Please don't, I beg of you..... Because if you do that then others will start doing it.
My irony meter just exploded.
4886718 About that, I took notice of all the times in the real show where she could have done that and saved a lot of time, yet she never did that.......... Why is she the element of magic again?
4886927 I second everything you just said. Also, as much it would be nice to see Garrosh turn out to be less of an a-hole then he seems, I almost don't want him to turn "nice", or else I may feel bad when we finally give him his comeuppance in the new expansion, and none of us need that.
Otherwise, I am liking this so far.
4886518 Garrosh x Dinky
Good lord, even I cringed whilst typing that
I have to say, it's disappointing that he lost Mannoroth's horns, they were badass.. Though, does he still have his various piercings? i.e the arm bone thingies
4887649 Yes, he still has his piercings. For what is an orc without them?
4886518 Get. Off! My! SHIIIIIP!
4894854 Okay! Getting off! (Don't think I don't know where you got that line.)
4894878 Its gets a whole new meaning in this fandom, doesn't it?
4894883 Oh my how it does.
I was just roleplaying a bunch as Garrosh in Equestria... got knocked out in a duel of will, the Mak'Rogahn. Then I realized that I just had to find some fanfiction with him in it... and here I find this.... i'm hoping that despite a romance label... seeing as Garrosh isn't the loving type, that this will live to my expectations!
I GET IT NOW
XD
4966175
Oh sweet Celestia no.... Now I can't read the rest of this story without yelling "WHERES THE BLACKSMITH?"