What would you do with the above poster? #19

We're doing stuff, and things.

And stuff.

discuss and compare tail jewelry and Horn-accessories with.. then leave.
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Asking here on a date to discuss about Silvermoon, what it means to her and what she hopes about using power of the Nether.
Ask how he can think of dating at times like these.
Query how the Light would condone what they've done in Kalimdor.
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Query why they fled the legion for thousands of years, rather than to Fight it.. then respond that barely anyone supports what had transpired in northern Kalimdor.
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Listening to the discussion while eating biscuits.
"You want one?" he asks Rumikah.
''Oooooh, what kind of biscuit is that? Did you make it yourself, maybe rolling fruit into the flour?'' The Pandaren seems captivated by the appearance of biscuits.
Munkosh noticed Zhaoling's enthusiasm and he was genuinely happy about it.
"Well, my pandaren friend, this one is a simple chocolate flavored, but this one has Fire Poppies on it," he said with gleaming eyes.
"And this one was seasoned with Stranglethorn Brew, this one right here with Mana Berries and this one..." Munkosh kept going and going.

Feel free to skip me.
*walks over before casually smacking the assorted biscuits to the floor*
No biscuits for you!
Discussing how we could heal those lands.
Point out before healing can be done, the occupation will have to be removed or all work will be jeopardised.

Also point out that Azerite (which is definitely damaging the lands) requires more studying and that she suspects it is more poisonous than people realize. It reminds her of saronite.
*Silently slides into Elyssa's tent.*

"Stay your glaive, Kaldorei. I'm not here to fight you."

*Throws the bag on his back to Elyssa's feet*

"Some skirmish plans, maps, and any other notes I had the chance to write down."

*He looks around him for a moment*

"Those mindless mongrels didn't suspect me when I entered their warcamp yesterday. I've been tracking a particular one-eyed orc, Karrnok the Shatterer. He was on patrol duty tonight, and... let's just say he lies dead and shattered on the forest soil now."

*Before heading out, he turns back to Elyssa and adds*

"Share those plans with others, Kaldorei. May those aid you and your kin to paint the shores of the Veiled Sea red with orc blood. I must head back to Silvermoon now. May the next time we meet be under better circumstances. Stay safe."

*He leaves the tent and disappears into the night."
Just as Savoren leaves the tent, a low faint whisper can be heard from the side of the tent
"Someone's been very naughty... havn't they?"
She cracks into a smirk
"You may have been whispering but you're around elves.. needless to say, I am hidden, for now- Do yourself a favor. avoid silvermoon.. and any other horde areas~"

With that, she flashes bright green and only ashes remains in a pile ontop of a small green circle.
Looking with Ghostsight to see if she really is gone
Savoren’s Spectralsight searches the area only to fall upon a sickly purple aura that pulses malevolently. It slowly closes on him, with no effort to conceal its approach.

Elyssa rests a clawed gauntlet onto the demon hunter’s shoulder and in the other thrusts a familiar looking bag into his chest. ‘’You have made a grave mistake I fear. Take it back. Go home, pretend that an Alliance spy did all the damage. Find a loved one. Again, even. While you still can.’’

She then turns to the small green circle and bends down to scrape a layer off the scorched matter. ‘’Fel portal, type not unfamiliar yet difficult to trace point of destination...perhaps my contacts in the Illidari know whom this person is. Must silence, knows too much.’’ The Warden stares at the ash pile for a long time. ‘’Not many who are more demon than elf, without being part of the Legion.’’
He hears a familiar voice as he steps out of the tent. He says nothing and gives no answers, but hearing that voice gives him a feeling of comfort, even though its a momentarily one. He has no intention to heed to that advice though. Confident in his ability to keep things discreet, he sets out to head back home.

Suddenly, he hears footsteps coming from behind and turns his gaze that way. A purple aura glimmering in the darkness catches his attention, soon he realizes that it belongs to none other than Elyssa and he waits for her to catch up with him. After hearing what she has to say, he slightly tilts his head forward, as if trying to take a better look at the bag. "No. There have been many mistakes here within the last few days... but what I've done is not one of them. What information those documents contain belongs to you. Though it is understandable if you don't want to bear the burden, in that case I can leave it in another tent, unseen and unheard."

He then notices Elyssa's gaze turning to the ashes on top of the small green circle. Not wanting any attention drawn on Rumikah, he decides to take the blame on himself. "More demon than elf, without being part of the Legion, huh? You are looking at one of them."
Amused by her definition, he can't help but giving a faint smile.
"Fel portal indeed, nice observation. I was trying to head back to Silvermoon in a quicker way, but I've failed to maintain my concentration and the only portal stone on me got destroyed. I'm afraid my only option of reaching there is through conventional means." After a moment passes without any words, he breaks the silence. "It is best if we part ways now. I have no intentions of drawing against your kin or living the rest of my days as a prisoner of war, and I doubt you'd want to be seen chatting with the enemy." Searching his mind for the correct Darnassian words he'd learned from his fellow Illidari, he once again keeps moving and gives his farewells. "En'shu falah-nah."
*Stumbles upon the Elf whilst patrolling, just in time to hear the end of his speech and points his axe at him*

Oh ye dunnae worry laddie, there ain't gonnae be nae feckin' prisoners. En'shu falah nah, nae bloody thank ye! Ye nae a complete bastard so ah'll let ye face pass, next time ah'll feckin' take ye kneecaps out!

*makes s 'shoo' motion with his axe* Get t' feck out o' here ye Horde piece o' !@#$e.
Ask if she can shampoo his beard!
And then proceed to shampoo it, regardless of the answer.
Amnastaria was rushing down the street, her blue uniforms dusty and stained with dried blood; her old alliance insignia cracked and bent, maybe from the strike of an axe wielded by a large foe, and her quiver nearly empty. Seen the absurd scene, however, makes her stop for a moment.

After a second of watching, she ask the Draenei if she got nothing better to do, when the hordes of darkness march forwards, and the countless innocents were burned alive.

Then probably sigh and walk away to buy new arrows and others supplies for her next assignment.