World of Warcraft RPG: Role-Play Thread

The atmosphere was eerie, yet relaxing. The soft sound of water falling echoed a misty dirge across the cavern. Even though it was only water, it seemed to glow as if lit from within. It was here that the communing with ancient ancestors and Spirits for guidance took place.

Grek had heard stories of Oshu'Gun, the mountain of the orcish ancestors from their old world Draenor. Being born into this world, however, he had never gotten the chance to experience it. The old ways were fascinating to him as if he had opened his eyes to a bright and colorful world, and he was grateful that the orcs had returned to it. Today, however, he was not here to talk to his ancestors but for the teachings of shamanism from Beram Skychaser, an elder Tauren. They sat side by side.

"Air is a unique element, my student," the Tauren said. "Many unenlightened ones may think it impractical and useless to use as magic, but air as an ally is valuable indeed and is quite useful in combat."

"Yes, you taught me how to utilize its ability to emulate weapon strikes with great ruthlessness," Grek said. "The fury of wind blessed to your weapon can be a punishing attack indeed."

Beram nodded. "As you seem to have demonstrated and utilized to great effect, long ago. But you will not be improving on that ability today. Today I shall show you how to call upon the Spirit of Air to turn the most brutal, primal strikes into a dance of deadly beauty, of grace in combat unsurpassed."

Grek leaned forward excitedly.

"Elune watch over you, sister" Marine Starfall said, raising her hands into the air with a bright golden glow. The very same golden glow engulfed the female night elf hunter, when she spun around in a circle and bringing the heavy equiped orcish warrior to the ground with her polearm. A battle that most certainly seemed to be lost, was a success, thanks to the holy hands of Marine. With a smile, the elven hunter bowed before Marine, who bowed gracefully back to her.

Marine took a look around, seeing how the Goldshire invaders had been defeated. One of the few villagers of Goldshire came up to her and shook her hand. "Thank you, elf. We are in your debt" The farmer boy said, and with a smile Marine bowed before him. "I could not have done it by myself" She said, making a gesture towards the pack of adventures that had fought side by side and brought the horde invaders to the ground. She was for sure the most well trained of the adventurers, but even though, she was not the kind of adventurer that could manage a battle on her own. She was trained to aid, not to enter combat herself.

With a look of satisfaction in her face, she made a sharp whistle. A beautiful pure white frostsabre dashed to her location and lowered her body, making Marine capable of climbing up. "Thank you, Faith" She said, patting the cat on the head. "Let us venture to Stormwind. We are far from our homeland, but we are here to aid the alliance best way possible."

As she and her cat walked trough the gates of Stormwind, she held her head up high and a smile over her face. "First, we do our share in helping Stormwind and the humans, then we go back and aid Kalimdor the best way possible. Our way!"

She stopped her cat by General Marcus Jonathan and made a salute. "Marine Starfall, ready to serve!"

Grek's teacher closed his eyes, as if trying to concentrate.

"The fact remains that the grace inherent in all forms of air is not an easy thing to call upon, my student." he said in his low beastial voice. "It needs a link between the physical world and the spiritual realm to solidify its presence."

Grek thought about it, and from his light leather tunic drew forth a small intricately totem carved out of mountain ash. Unlike the spikes of Fire, the knobs of Earth or the curves of Water, the Totem of Air had wavy lengths carved into its side as to better accommodate the presence of Air.

Eiri had roused late that morning. She had been through an aggrivating night, returning late from Loch Modan. She was sent to aid some Dwarf comrades in bringing down the Dark iron's. She had no idea it would be so time consuming! After finally finishing, She was quite aggrivated to find a messenger at Ironforge approaching her, telling her she was intstructed not to take a Griffin, or hippogryph. The information she heald was to secure at the moment. She, of course, thought otherrwise due to the fact that half of Stormwind's militia had the same exact map.

That began her excrutiatingly long trip home. Her mare was tired from the ride up, and made return slow. The fact that hordes of ogres decided she would make excellent prey did not help either. As she approached Lakeshire, A guard , once again, told her the Blackrock hunters nearbye would be after her. throroughly exasperated she managed to ride through the swap of sorrows, and back around toward darkshire. At 0545, she finally made it to goldshire, Taking a room in the inn. She slept in for 3 hours, and awoke startled by some inexperienced rogues dueling outside. She rolled her eyes, and turned over sleepily before shooting up. She cursed under her breath and jumped out of bed.

She pulled the blacket with her, scrambling off the floor and toward the dressed in the corner. Brushing her teeth and pulling on her armor proved a difficult task for a warrior of even her rank. Finally, she was dressed, and had tied her hair back into a tight but messy bun. Her mare was downstairs, tied up and waiting. The chestnut colored horse whinnied at the sight of her, and nervously sidedtepped some young children. She fed the mare a carrot, grabbed the horses reins and jumped on, pressing her heels into the mares side. She bolted forward, toward the gates of Stormwind. she was supposed to meet some night elf here today, And she hoped she wasn't to late. She would surely be demoted to a corporal. Finally she reached the gates. She slowed to a walk and pulled back hard on the horse as a young girl named Donna ran past, chasing her brother who was toting a small doll. Eiri saw the hunter and smiled, sliding off her horse. She walked up briskly, bowing before the elegant looking night elf. Bits of hair fell in her face, and she quickly smiled and brushed them away. A bit of sweat hung above her brow and she panted slightly. The mare, Stormy, snorted at the large cat beside her, and pawed nervously. After Eiri patetd her gently she turned back to the night elf, and saluted.

" Eiri Dassin, at your service. "

She said smiling. She offered her hand to the Elf to shake.

"Excellent thinking, my student." Beram said, nodding. "A totem, being a medium to commune with the spirits will serve nicely to increase our chances of success. You know what to do now."

Grek nodded. "I do."
Having done similar things before, such as summoning the essence of fire to weave its spiritual presence about a physical medium to blast its wrath at his foe. This was air, though, and he didn't know what protocols to take. Air and Fire had entirely different disciplines.

He concentrated in his mind, hailing the Spirit of Air. Air answered his request to come, as if they were old friends. Ask, young Grek, and you shall recieve your answer.
Will you lend me your grace and purity when I need it, not only for myself but for the aid of allies as well? He asked.

As if to answer, the totem seemed to enlargen in size and waver as though Grek was looking at it through water. Immediately, he felt a great agility run through him. He imagined himself dextrous, nimble, and quick. Looking over at his teacher, Grek saw that the Tauren felt the same.

Air spoke again. I have agreed to lend you my grace, and my speed for you and those you would aid, young Grek. Honour me, and this gift shall always remain yours.

A lone arrow sailed through the air, and once it reached its target it sounded a dull thump. A cluster of similar arrows surrounded it, all grouped around the center of the multiple rings. A smile remained painted on her small, soft sky blue lips. “Bullseye.” The deep voice chanted with clear pride, for her accuracy was unfailing. Her hands wandered back to her quiver, searching for another implement, although she found none. “Dey always go to fast.” Frustration found its way into her voice as she began fumbling for her things.

“Necalli!” She called, rousing her pet. The raptor rolled over lazily, basking in the suns warm rays. “We be goin to do an errand, get yourself movin.” The creature grunted and picked itself up, knowing what was expected of him. The woman jogged over to her small, makeshift camp. Her violet colored mount prancing around, craving the change to stretch its legs. She threw a saddle over its back, and tightened it while attempting to pack her things. She stuffed her leather armor into her back pack, finding no need to wear it when not in battle.

Ninari smirked as her impatient mount bumped her with its nose. “Hold it.” She chuckled, throwing on a tunic over top of her white linen shirt. The plains of Mulgore were lovely, and as beautiful and lush as ever. The only thing she hated was its capital city. Going to Thunder Bluff was never pleasant, it was so sprawled out and unbelievably frustrating for somebody as impatient as herself. Today was no exception, and she was aware of that the second the city came into view.

“Congratulations, Grek.” His old mentor smiled. Grek always found it terribly amusing when a Tauren tried to smile, but Beram didn’t seem to mind his student’s occasional grinning. “You have learned how to charge the inherent power and speed of air into your totem.”

“I thank you, my teacher.” Grek said, bowing his head respectfully. “I assure you that I will always respect its power and its gifts.”

Closing the ceremony formally, Grek stole out into the fresh air. His faithful mount Kreskan rose up off his haunches and sniffed his master’s hand. The riding wolf was massive; he outweighed the orc by far and on all fours he nearly came up to Grek’s chest. He could bear an armored warrior without pause or effort.

The two hadn’t known each other that long, but Kreskan was fiercely loyal to Grek and in turn his master rewarded the wolf with almost parental affection and caring. It was a big chunk out of his pocket for riding lessons, care, and the wolf himself, but it was worth it in the end.

Patting the wolf’s thick brown hide, he smiled slightly when he remembered his selection. The breeder was a strange cynical fellow orc, who had asked him which wolf he would have liked. Grek had then taken his time and decided on Kreskan. Why he chose the brown wolf, he did not know; it was an inner instinct that caused Grek to look beyond the body, and find the kindred soul within. The breeder had been disapproving.
“He’s not as fast as the other pups,” he had protested. However, Grek was stubborn even for an orc and in the end had rode happily through Orgrimmar on a yappy Kreskan, leaving the bemused wolf breeder behind.

Her fingers quickly wove the leather straps of her mounts harness to a wooden beam near the elevator. Other mounts were tied, and waited for their owners return quietly. Quickly, she checked Necalli into the stable. She loved the beast dearly, but he tended to be a bit of annoyance. Not only that, but he also lacked grace and shopkeepers never liked her bringing him into stores with her.

She hoisted her bags over her shoulder; they were so full the weight crippled her slightly. The narrow roads through the city were almost impossible to get around. Today, it was impossible not to brush shoulders with somebody while traveling. “To the blazing pits of hell with dis city.” The signs were impossible to see through the crowd of massive taurens. She threw her bags down and sat on a bench. Full of self pity and hate towards the terrible city she found herself in. She sat hunched over, her face supported by her hands. Ninari sat for a long stretch of time, watching the people pass with boredom and loathing. Although crowds were beginning to thin down, she was still fronted with one problem, how was she possibly going to find the shop she was looking for?

It was not customary for anyone visiting Thunder Bluff to ride mounts through, owing to the difficulty of trying to avoid crashing into one of the fair-sized Tauren, so Grek dismounted and led his wolf over to the tying posts. Visitors could always tell what manner of people were in Thunder Bluff simply by looking at the mounts tied up. Besides the huge docile Kodo that the Tauren rode and the few orcish riding wolves, there was a rather large riding raptor the color of fiery sunset, who stared at Grek as he tethered Kreskan up. Kreskan immediately went over and sniffed the raptor enthusiastically, and the raptor cocked its head curiously at his wolf.

So a troll was in the city. He rarely saw them in Thunder Bluff, and rarer still were the Forsaken and the Blood Elves here.

With a final glance at the mounts, Grek went off to his temporary quarters, where he had stored his battle armour and his beloved weapon. It was considered a show of power to wear the armour and to bear the weapon of a particularly worthy vanquished foe, to any orc. The Scarlet Champion Herod was as fearsome a quarry as he had ever faced, even with an assorted selection of allies to aid Grek. With their healer incapacitated and their warrior clinging to life by a bare thread, Grek had jumped to the fore and slain the Scarlet Champion. With what strength he had left, he had healed their courageous warrior back to health and dropped exhausted to the bloodstained floor.

His allies, after dispatching a crowd of Herod's pathetically weak students, had decided to reward Grek with Herod's mail legguards, battle-ax, helm, and mighty shoulderpad. Since then he had meticulously cared for his equipment, oiling it and even going so far as to wash it every once in a while. His ax had a dent in it, and the shoulderguard was bruised and the metallic teeth were fading; he picked those up to carry off to the local smith for repair.

"Sereck Dreadnaught at your command. It is an honor meeting you, my ladies and General Marcus" A man spoke, kneeling before General Marcus and the two females, holding a clenched fist against his chest. The voice echoed from a plate helmet that covered the entire face of the rather large human. The morning sun reflected against his helmet, which was, aside of the shield abd pauldrons, the only thing that was bright enough to reflect the sun. His head was entirely covered with plate, all but the eyes and the space inbetween the eyes.
The rest of his heavily equiped body was made out of black metal, from his neck all down to his shoes. It was absorbing any sign of light, and despite the daytime, he was black as the night from neck and down.
At his side, there was a small axe attached, which burned with a fiery blaze. At his back, a shield was tied up, blank steel and the size of a human chest. His armor was newly polished and his eyes had a look of passion. He loved the life of a warrior, and it was shown by only looking into his eyes. He bowed his head, maintining his hand on his chest, watching the two women and the general in front of him.

"No." Her body refused with persistence. "One last time, get up." Her mind commanded it's jurisdiction over ruling stubbornness. Her legs picked the rest of her up quickly off of the bench and onto the old, worn road. Snatching up her bags and lacking grace in particular, she almost hit another traveler. Murmuring an embarrassed apologizes she made her way out of sight and into a black smiths shop.

She tossed her bags onto the counter, notifying everybody of her presence. "I be owning a few trinkets I'd rather have, would you be willen to take dem off my hands?" She asked the shop keeper, pulling out a few rather rare looking daggers. "No haggling need be taking place, I just be sick of carrying dem." Ninari smiled slightly, her tusks jutting out at a rather odd and humorous angle. "So how much would yea be willin to pay?"

The shop kept examined them for a moment or too before responding. "Twenty two gold for the lot." His voice was rough as sand paper. Though the quality of the daggers was good, he had no need for them right now. He was slightly stunned when the troll nodded in agreement, even though she was getting under paid. Still, he gave the gold to her with out hesitating. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" He asked her.

“I need arrows.” She said with a grin, while continuing to pack her bags. “Do you sell dem here?” Her pale red eyes glanced up at him, sinking as she seen the shake of his head. The words “fresh out” never sounded so horrible in her life. “Do you know where I could get some?” Once again, there was another response which she did not want to hear. “Thank you for your time.”

"Ah, Grek!" Jyn Stonehoof greeted him amiably as he approached. "Here's an old friend. How may I help you?"

The female Tauren was unequalled in her ability to mass produce weapons to no end and was a key supplier in arms during the push against the Burning Legion. She was master of the blacksmith hammer and knew how to smelt impurities out of any ore. Grek had come to her before for her services and she excelled.

"Zug-zug, Jyn," Grek greeted her in orcish and hefted the axe and shoulderpad onto her counter. "I need these in good condition 'fore I ride for Tanaris. How much are you charging?"

Jyn looked them over. "You have some dandies here. A great number of your people wouldn't really have cared over such minor deficiencies. But since you're rather caring of your gear for an orc and I know you, I'll give you a discount and I'll upgrade it a little. Fifty silver, eighty three copper."

Grek dug out the money and gave it to her. "When can I expect them back?"
Already jogging over to the forge and anvils near the lake, she called; "This afternoon! Kill some time for me!"

Grek shrugged his broad shoulders, snorted through his tusks, and started back to his quarters. He was still absentminded and staring up at the vividly blue sky when someone ran slap bang into him by accident.

Before Grek had a chance to say something, a delicate yet husky female voice grunted "Oops, sorry." The orc shaman had time to turn around to see the a very attractive, blue skinned troll disappear into a blacksmith. Evidently a skilled hunter, from the bow slung across her back, but her quiver was empty.

Having been brought up in captivity, he only had orcish and human measures as to measure beauty and the hunter was something both races would grudgingly admit to attraction with. Slightly taller than him, elegant flowing hair, rather curvy, apparently strong and tough, big red soft eyes -

"An orc gawking at a troll! What's next, a Tauren and a Blood Elf uniting in holy matrimony?"

Thunder Bluff is not a bad city, if you are not looking for anything. The vivid colors and clear, brisk air never did anybody any harm. In fact, chances are anybody would enjoy it under most circumstances. The people were friendly, and the landscape was breath taking. Plus, if you were here only for leisure, then chances are it would be quite fun exploring the multiple levels of the city. Unless you happened to be afraid of heights.

Her blood was so close to boiling it was frightening. How could you possibly be out of arrows? You’d have to seen you were running down, so wouldn’t it be sheer laziness, not anything else? Her head whipped around for a guard to give her directions to the closest shop that actually sells them. Maybe in one hour, she’d finally find the shop they were talking about.

Ninari turned, fuming, and straight into a person. Regrouping, she backed up still slightly stunned. “Opps sorry!” She muttered, blushing a bright rose hue. Getting ready to scurry away, an idea hit her with almost as much force and she hit him. “I dun mean to be a bother, but would ya show me where to buy arrows, if it dun be too much trouble.” She laced her fingers through her hair, looking at him through large, pleading eyes. “This city be an unfamiliar one.”

[Changed my name to Toaren]

Taoren slowly descended the valley that once hid his home. The sun, barely making it's way above of the mountains, lit the worn away path that Toaren and his surrogate father would take to the river. Toaren never carried and weapons or tools. He kept books tied to his side by a red and gold metal chain that had an eye of the sun as the end link. The very same sun outlined his right eye as a gold tattoo. Making it to the foot of the mountain, he reached a fork in the road. The farthest town would take days to reach on foot.

"He always told me to stay away from the village. Nothing but a bunch of drunks and fighters." He sighed but relentlessly turned and walked in it's direction. "Perhaps if I stick to the outskirts of town, I'll be able to avoid the drunks and bullies." By midday he reached the village and wandered near the markets asking the traders for a ride. None agreed, and those that did would not do it for free. By the end of the day, he found himself in front of the tavern on the advise of one of traders. Go in the tavern and ask for a Gili Fox. If he wont give you a ride, than no one will. "The very thing I promised to avoid is the one thing I need to get out. I hope your laughing for the both of us old man" he said to himself, "because this is as humorous as it will get." And without saying another word, he pulled the door back and stepped into the boisterous tavern.

Grek regarded the pretty troll closely. Normally a hunter didn't run out of arrows unless they were extremely distracted or negligent of their equipment. It was odd then, that her bow shone in a dull sheen; she obviously cared about her equipment, so why run out of arrows?

The orc smiled broadly at her accent. Grek was extremely easy to amuse, but also very easy to get on the wrong side of. Apparently she had taken the smile for benign, from the way her face lighted up. Having some free time, he decided to indulge her.

"Kura of the Thunderhorn Clan sells 'em," he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the massive upright sequoia trunk, that had been hollowed out to serve as a spiral staircase. "She's up on the middle rise. You want an escort?"

Originally posted by AOR
[Changed my name to Toaren]

Taoren slowly descended the valley that once hid his home. The sun, barely making it's way above of the mountains, lit the worn away path that Toaren and his surrogate father would take to the river. Toaren never carried and weapons or tools. He kept books tied to his side by a red and gold metal chain that had an eye of the sun as the end link. The very same sun outlined his right eye as a gold tattoo. Making it to the foot of the mountain, he reached a fork in the road. The farthest town would take days to reach on foot.

"He always told me to stay away from the village. Nothing but a bunch of drunks and fighters." He sighed but relentlessly turned and walked in it's direction. "Perhaps if I stick to the outskirts of town, I'll be able to avoid the drunks and bullies." By midday he reached the village and wandered near the markets asking the traders for a ride. None agreed, and those that did would not do it for free. By the end of the day, he found himself in front of the tavern on the advise of one of traders. Go in the tavern and ask for a Gili Fox. If he wont give you a ride, than no one will. "The very thing I promised to avoid is the one thing I need to get out. I hope your laughing for the both of us old man" he said to himself, "because this is as humorous as it will get." And without saying another word, he pulled the door back and stepped into the boisterous tavern.

Whether it was his large size, thunderous footsteps, or colorful attire the noise in the tavern ceased and all were still. Taoren was rather nervous. Never before had been the center of so much attention, so it was no surprise that he too stood still and quiet. "Oye!" the bartender cried, "either come in and shut the door, or leave and shut the door. Either way shut the door!" Taoren, pleased at the sudden outburst, shut the door and was relieved to find that everyone in the place returned to minding their own. He walked over to the bar and began, subtly, to search for this Gili Fox. He was a rouge and skinny. He hair was dark and would be found drinking alone. However no such person came to Taoren's attention.

"Can I get you anything, big guy?" Taoren, snapped away from his search, looked bewilderingly at the bar tender. "C-A-N I G-E-T Y-O-U ANY-THING T-O D-R-I-N-K?!"

"Uh yes," he replied coming back to his senses, "water will be nice."

"He listen bud, if ya want water, you can drink it in the back with the horses. so what can I get ya?" Taoren didn't know what to ask for. Never being able to go down to the town limited him on social manners and trends. "I'll have some lite ale."

"Ha! Ever been into a bar, bud? Wait, don't answer that, I'll be right back." Just as the bar tender disappeared a human voice called out from behind Taoren. "Hey, bartender wait! Damn it! Thanks bud!"

"I'm sorry, sir but..." however he stopped gazing at this little human. Certainly a rogue by his attire, small (smaller than he imagined), black hair, skinny but not too skinny and light blue eyes. Taoren didn't want to seem rude or cause alarm, but he knew this had to be Gili Fox. "My apologies, friend. I did not mean to scare off the man." Gili stared at him, hesitant to accept his apologies. However he relented and shrugged it off, "Don't worry about it. That guy is never still for more than two minutes. The names Gili Fox by the way, but you can call me Fox."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fox" Taoren replied. "Just Fox, no Mr." Gili quickly corrected, "and you?"

"The name is Taoren, and I need your help."

Marine smiled as she received the greeting. She grabbed the hand of the human and proudly introduced herself with a handshake.
"My name is Marine Starfall. It is an honor to be fighting at your side, Eiri" She said gently, shaking the hand of the human. She shook her head, straightening her long hair to get it out of her face. "I am a priestess of the goddess above and I will aid you in any way possible"
She then turned her head to the second human, as well a warrior. Despite the fact that both of them were humans, and both seemed to be warrior, they seemed different from each-other. Perhaps they trained in different kinds of art. By the look of it, the male seemed defensive, while the female seemed more the offensive kind.

She looked up into the morning skies, giving out a gentle sigh. She dreamt of her homelands, far too often. She had sworn alligance to the alliance, and by that their words were her commands. She dreamt of the day when she would be allowed to return to her beloved Kalimdor, where she was needed the most. The recent crash of the Draenei did not only increase her will to return, but brought up a new level of curiosity that she had not experienced before, ever.

The rather large blue form stumbled through the doors of Stormwind tavern. Being a regular in these parts, nobody really paid him any mind, except the bartender of course.
"'Lo, Lazin. Find a seat, Lauren'll be out in a moment." Lazin smiled, and sat down next to a hearty group of warriors. They were talking about the new recruitment offers, and how they were getting all of the inexperienced type. Just complaining, really.
A beautiful purple skinned Night Elf descended from the Tavern's second floor, holding a mug filled with an auburn colored ale. She sat down across from Lazin, smiling as she did so.
"Well, Lazin, what do you need this time?" Lauren asked him, and Lazin smiled.
"A mount. I plan on traveling, though to where I don't know."
"Well, you're big... I don't know what could support you... Unless we got a rather large horse..." Lazin chuckled and then shrugged.
"Really, I just came to say goodbye. It's been great to know you, Lauren. I hope to see you again someday." Lauren chuckled and leaned over, kissing Lazin on the cheek.
"You're a good man, Lazin. Make Stormwind proud." Lazin nodded firmly, and stood. He bowed deeply to Lauren, waved to the bartender, and left the Tavern. For good.

The orcs coordinal reception had a profound affect on her mood. His smile, although small offered her a fair bit of reassurance that by asking him, he would offer her sufficient help. His voice was not unfamiliar for an orc, deep and approachable and unrefined.

Her gazed remained fixated on the tree for a moment, dreading the fact she’d have to look even more for arrows. Ninari gave a weak smile, vowing to herself never to come to this particular city again if there was any way she could possibly help it. It took her a moment to respond to his offer, surprised somebody would bother. Her head bobbed down for a moment, pretending she was considering his offer although her mind was already set. “I don’t be needin one, but one would be nice.”

A crooked smile painted itself on her face, although she did not allow the orc to notice. Without another word, she began walking in the direction of his thumb, slowly of coarse so it would not seem completely rude. But Ninari wasn’t about to tell anybody to take the lead, even if she didn’t know where she was going. Following was never much of an option. “Now why would one be so kind to be aiding me in my search?” She asked him, arching a single brunette eyebrow.

Enjoying the light breeze and good weather, the orc and the troll strode off in the direction of the sequoia. It was undoubtedly annoying to get to different parts of the Tauren city, but provided that they stayed safe and had a reasonably brisk pace, it shouldn't take too much time. He enjoyed the city, but it didn't look as though the troll did. How different a hunter can be from a shaman, Grek thought.

Her sudden question jerked him from his reverie.
“Now why would one be so kind to be aiding me in my search?”
Grek considered, and decided to be truthful.
"Oh. One, I find you attractive, two, I'm a generally helpful soul, and three, I have plenty of time to kill."