A deep sigh could be heard throughout the entire blockade, various gazes on him as he mounted the skeletal steed without hesitation, the weeks spent alongside the undead, helping in their war effort against the shape shifters took away any feeling of discomfort or hesitation as he got used to their presence. As he settled himself in the steed's saddle trying to find the right spot, he started to reminisce about the various weeks he spent in that damned forest.
It was an honest surprise to him once he got the missive to head on towards the glades, but who was he to know about strategy, he thought to himself back then. Very soon upon his arrival he was reassigned towards the forest, working his way up the ranks of an entirely different sub-faction's army, and surprisingly becoming its top agent in their war effort against the shape shifters. Comrades were lost too fast and easily in the forest as battles were won and lost, lines were constantly erased and redrawn, supplies lost and regained.
An entire conflict simply for one stretch of forest, one defending their holdings whilst another fought tooth and claw to regain their lost land. As much as he sympathized with the shape shifters in wanting their land back, he utterly supported the undead as he and his people knew what was to be ostracized, and ruthlessly enslaved by others.
He remembered their victory very clearly, their bitter victory against the shape shifters and the circumstances that went through with their victory. He was infuriated just the same as the Banshee Queen and High Lord, and was still saddened by the loss of his comrade-in-arms whose willing sacrifice led to the Banshee Queen's resurrection.
"Stand tall and proud, Rulo. Don't let any of these scrubs give you any trouble. Show them who's boss!" came the voice of the High Executor standing on the other side of the small open tent, Darthalia was her name, and in charge of the entire Southpoint Blockade. He smiled and nodded in her direction before she continued, slightly thankful for her interruption as he focused on the task at hand.
His own personal musings and grieving would have to take a backseat until the appropriate time to do so, beforehand and in duty was a costly mistake. All soldiers knew this, and that's why he was again thankful for Darthalia consideration, having spent a bit of time talking with the High Executor before he was handed the task at hand.
"I see one coming now!" she whispered to him as a male forsaken dressed only in blue overalls ran into the blockade, his dark blue marine boots stepping haphazardly over the cobbled road. "Looks like a real winner. Keep it cool, Rulo. Keep it cool," she whispered, he couldn't help but stare incredulously at her as she righted herself, seemingly standing in place and acting the part of her rank.
"Hi! Hi! Help!" yelled the voice of the blue overall wearing forsaken, running to and fro different forsaken, repeating it a few times before the forsaken approached him. "Hi! I'm new! Big white creature with wings made me alive! I serve the Banshee Queen! Yay! Hi! Help!" the forsaken said without stopping as he blinked and stared.
A few seconds of staring passed before he cursed under his breath, "Go take a nap or sometin', mon. Know notin of work fo ya," he said as the forsaken smiled, a wide smile that he knew would haunt his dreams. "Okay! Thanks! I'll just wait here with you! Ok! Thanks!" said the forsaken as he widened his eyes, he cursed under his breath as he dove a hand into his satchel, his fingers roaming for a mission report to send the disturbing forsaken away.
"Wait a secon', mon. Sometin' just came up for ya," he said as he took out a report, snapping it open with a flick of his wrist before he eyed its contents. "Ya, on dis sheet of paper. Need to head southeast towards Azurelode Mine and report to Captain Keyton. Southeast be dat way," he said as he pointed in the direction of southeast, hoping the forsaken would accept it and get out of his hair.
"North! Got it! Thanks! Bye! Thanks!" yelled the forsaken as he ran down the cobbled road into Hillsbrad Foothills, past the blockade and upwards a small incline, disappearing from the troll's view, hopefully forever. He sighed before turning his gaze on the High Executor, who shuffled her feet slowly and coughed under his harsh glare.
"These new forsaken tend to be a little…um…stupid," she said meekly as the troll snorted, "No shit, mon," he said sarcastically before Darthalia glared at him, "It usually takes them a while to acclimate," she stated before turning her gaze towards the cobbled road, loud flapping of wings could be heard getting closer to the blockade.
He heard the female forsaken sigh in annoyance before muttering something under her breath, her gaze towards him, "I know this orc. He's got no business being here, but since he's a bottom-feeding pansy he likes to hang around here and prey on the helpless. Don't let him bully you," she said before shaking her head and righting herself once more.
"CAN YOU SMELL WHAT THE LOK'TAR IS COOKIN'?"
Damn it by the spirits.