Zagru steps from the grimy deck and into the nation of Norland. The air is crisp so the scent of fishing trawlers sits easily on his nose. It causes his tusks and his nostrils to almost meet in disgust. "Welcome!" begins a well-dressed gentleman with a beautiful regard for formality. "What brings you to this lovely city?" and he continues to approach the Orc, which Zagru can only imagine is a handy way of noting that this greenskinned descendant is not much to note.
"No weapons - in Humies land, not say enough?" Zagru speaks in the little common tongue he knows.
"Adventure? Wealth? Or some grand aspirations to elevate your place in society?"
"Yea" the Orc grunts. "Where's the papers and stuff?"
The gentleman seems to remain equally nonplussed by the Orc.
"Na" he grunts again. He motions his fat hands by opening and closing them. "Papers."
"Hmm..." Zagru ponders and it is obvious that this is for far too long. "Books. Yea."
That's when the well-dressed gentleman and Zagru starting speaking the same language.
