How to Piss Off a Worgen
A roleplay conversation between Ellister, Ben, Ander, and Seli, featuring Ben and Ellister partially summarized.
"I've read about the destruction of Quel'thalas by the forces of the Scourge. As one who has likewise had their homeland ravaged by the undead, I am wondering: how can your people ally with the Forsaken?" Sharp teeth flashed in the dim lighting of the tavern as the worgen snarled the last word. It was a horribly political question to ask. Yet it was something he'd wondered, ever since learning about the new Horde and its members. Quel'dorei had been their allies in the Second War; why the change of heart? "I suppose I am wondering why there was a switch of allegiances, now that your people are referred to as Sin'dorei. I recall the banner of Quel'thalas flying proudly next to the standards of the human kingdoms." Ellister mused that this line of inquiry would probably be the one to break off the meeting between enemies.
--
"Are your own people not allied with undead? Despite what any scourge or undead has done to the Alliance, you have Death Knights in your ranks. Was it so much easier to ally with them over your own risen human family and friends?" If Ellister wanted the blood elves to gossip about their own allies to a member of the enemy faction, he wasn't going to get the satisfaction from Ben regardless of the monk's feelings towards the scourge. "You know, they don't all rise with allegiance to the Horde, if I'm correct," he raised long brows and crossed his hands on the table, his glowing eyes fixed intently on Ellister. "I suppose I should have recognized your people's accent, but it does sound terribly different in Orcish."
--
He'd managed to be perfectly civil, despite his monstrous appearance, up until Ben started talking about the undead in the ranks of the Alliance. His nostrils flared and his claws dug into the hard wooden table as he continued. He was about to retort when Ben continued with his offensive words. The last straw was that horrible reference to a Gilnean speaking Orcish! His chair nearly toppled over as the worgen abruptly stood. His full height was impressive, and he hunched over to address Benemir. His muzzle was contorted into a wicked snarl, yellowed and cracked teeth exposed. Hot breath ruffled the elf's hair. "How dare you!" The words were hardly recognizable as such; he was growling menacingly. Such arrogance! The fury of Goldrinn boiled his blood. "We are through here!" The doctor snorted angrily through his snout and swiftly turned to storm out. His claws left gouges in the table. He needed to leave, before he did something rash and dangerous...
