Dregu merely stared at Mercy as she spoke to him, his ice blue eyes as cold as the steel of his blades. She was clearly intelligent and had a silky way of speaking to him, a fact that irritated him more than it should have. “The general follows his own stupidity.” The orc warrior knew that the priestess and the general rarely saw eye to eye. Most of his kin were too stupid to ever pick up on the changes in the generals moods after he had spoken with Mercy. “The fact that he claims to be chosen by our god is a joke.” Uncrossing his arms, the mercenary turned to follow after the priestess, his stride matching hers easily. “If I'm wrong priestess, you're free to smite me in the name of our god.” There was no humor, nor anger, in Dregu's tone. His words were a simple statement of what he saw as fact, regardless of what consequences his words might hold.<br/><br/>Dregu's feelings towards the Deaavh Ukmile had recently taken a turn for the worse. The constant infighting of the band, the constant ignorance and disrespect and most of all, the general himself, were taking a toll on his patience and desire to fit in and be accepted. His entire reason for joining this group was to make a name for himself to finally be accepted by his kin, yet the more time he spent with them, the more he began to realize that he couldn't stand the orcish side of his blood. Why had he ever admired the strength of the orcs to begin with? A blind need to be accepted, born of ignorance to what this race actually was. Sure, there was a twisted sense of honor that he felt an affinity to, but was that really enough to attach the rest of his life to? Maybe this priestess and her task would offer him another piece to his puzzle.<br/><br/>“Clever, aren't we priestess? I am sure of myself, my actions and my words. I guard myself well, at all times.” Offering Mercy a sardonic smile that showed the tips of his undersized tusks, Dregu gave a shallow bow of his head. “At the very least, you'll provide more interesting conversation than my 'comrades'.” That final word dripped with venom, giving the priestess a clear insight into what he felt for his fellow mercenaries.<br/><br/>The sardonic smile slipped from his face as she gave him her 'honest' answer, an answer that was clearly only partial truths. This woman had a hidden agenda, that much he knew for sure, yet he couldn't begin to fathom what it could be. “A puzzle for another time.” The quiet words slipped from his tongue as Mercy turned to walk away. Icy blue orbs followed her steps, a slight smirk curling the edges of his lips as she shouldered the much larger orc from her path. Did her confidence come from being untouchable to anyone but the general? Or was it more than that? As he watched her, he couldn't help but compare her to a hardened steel blade, draped in the softest silk. At that moment, Dregu knew that he would go along with her task, and whatever she needed him for after that. “This is going to be fun.”<br/><br/>A few quick, long strides brought him back to her side, easily falling into step beside her. “There was enough truth in your answer to get my cooperation. I'm not a fool though, I know there's more to your motives than you gave. Not that I believe for a moment that you need a guard or that you can't protect yourself, I'll play along for now priestess. You may be a woman, and not of orcish blood, but you clearly have strength and confidence in yourself.” As he walked beside her, his mind puzzling over her words and their meanings, he couldn't help but wonder if she had been chosen the general, or if she was one of the few that had actually been chosen by their god. There had been more than a few in his lifetime that claimed to speak for their god, yet each one had met an untimely death, proving that they had made false claims.<br/><br/>“My blades are yours to command priestess, at least for now.” Having said all he needed to say, Dregu fell silent as he kept pace with his new companion, wondering where they could be headed. Part of him, a larger part than he would admit, was excited to be away from his kin, to be with someone who was at least as educated as he was. If nothing else, this would offer him more entertainment that sparring with those weaker than him.