Gukdan would sit in the forge, a large bag at his side, full to the brim with necessities and items clearly meant for travel. He began to pace along the cold stone, muttering to himself, before stopping in front of the furnace. The Uruk would stare deeply into the twisting flames, their bright glow shutting out all other distractions, they were the only thing he saw. A smile plastered itself onto Gukdan's face, turning suddenly, he would grab his bag; heading out of the forge.
"It'z tik fur mi tu guh... tu bekum azht wid dah forge."
He would look at his hands, engraved with writings, and the palms dry with blood.
"It'z nub enuff... Mi need tu fynd zum'tin elze... Mi need tu fynd dah Aanghum-ishi"
Gukdan would scuffle through San'Torr, raising a hood over his head, as to avoid being seen.
"Tik tu goh."