<span style="color: darkorange">"No, not really, it seems like you're just talking to me because you have nothing better to do right now. Not that I can say I don't enjoy talking a male who doesn't expect me to rule over them, it's a fairly refreshing change." </span>She looked between Ophidian and the Tauren and frowned.<span style="color: darkorange">"Ibara, hm, I know the name Ras though. You'd think a name so short would be fairly common but apparently it isn't, he's a Troll, right? He'd stand on the coast of whatever the Dryskins call the area on the very southern point of the continent and taunt Azshara until she sent warriors to silence him. The men would come back with broken everythings and the women grinning so wide you'd think it'd split their cheeks. It wasn't until one of the court's advisers had a pregnancy scare that Azshara realized what he was doing with them on the surface." </span>An amused grin slowly appeared along her expression.<span style="color: darkorange">"Azshara's expression was priceless when she found out he was fucking and fighting some of her highest ranking soldiers and priestesses. To this day I still haven't laughed as hard. Modern Darnassian? So they dumbed it down more than what the commoners would speak? I almost don't want to learn it out of pride for my people... but I suppose I don't really have much choice do I? I can't teach my son a dead language and if he's going to be successful in this world he'll need to know the languages of the dry skins. A shame, but it needs to be done."</span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>