The Keep

Zijil enjoyed Orgrimmar. Sure he hated the heat and the dry sandy area around it, but any fool could disappear in its masses. Capital of the Horde indeed! Hordes of orcs, taurens, trolls and undead filled its every crevice at almost all times. Zijil needn't try at all to blend in, though this day, one odd looking orc managed to stand out; at least to the prying and ceaseless eyes of the green haired troll.

As Zijil headed towards the front gates of the mighty warrior city, there stood the wild and weathered looking orc, Toregene. To most trolls, or non-orcs, he'd probably be seen as yet another barbarous green-skin. Zijil was more observant however. Standing off by himself in an oddly aloof position, Toregene seemed to be staring towards the sky at nothing.

Zijil's pace slowed as he carefully eyed the suspiciously strange looking fellow. Obviously a warrior, he thought. Strong? Oh yes. A blunt instrument at best, he was sure. The orcs hair was wild and uncared for with a long untrimmed beard hanging down beneath his agape mouth.

Stepping up to him slowly Zijil spoke in a casual tone "Lok'tar warrior. What brings you to the big city on such an evening?"

Toregene slowly broke his distant stare and turned to the slender troll, "Who are you? I don't know you."

"Indeed you don't. I am Zijil Revantusk, and yourself?"

"Toregene" the orc seemed to froth at the mouth slightly.

Zijil rubbed his chin in thought, "Have you seen much fighting?" To which Toregene nodded slowly. "Of course you have How would you feel about some Work?"

The slow-witted orc responded "Sure. But I cant if it means going into Durotar. They don't let me in there anymore."

Zijil raised an eyebrow curiously, "Oh? Why's that?" Zijil wasn't sure why, but he could easily take a guess based on the crazed-looking orcs appearance.

"I don't want to say... What's your name? I don't know who you are." The orc stared at Zijil dumbly.

"Of course you don't. Works better that way." He smiled a smile that would've been a sinister grin on anyone else. "Farewell then, I shall contact you when I have work."

"How will you do that? " Toregene looked confused as he scratched his filthy scalp.

"That is my duty. You just wait." Zijil ran off into the red sands of Durotar, pleased with his new discovery. He was an excellent judge of character, and he knew this orc would make a perfect, if very blunt and slow-wielded, instrument. His employer will be quite pleased.