Sokar muttered to himself as he walked the dock-like streets of Booty Bay. "This place always stinks," he hissed under his breath. Everywhere, someone was shoving something in front of him or spraying on him or shouting at him to try to lure him to their wares. Each time, his frustration grew and wrapped a finger or two slowly around the haft of an axe at his waist.<br/><br/>"Rememba why you're here..." He'd always reply to himself. Since the fall of the Zandalari, he and his clan had been even more displaced than before. As one of the most darkspear-looking of his people, he had the unenviable task of wading through this city's filth to trade for what the clan needed.<br/><br/>After he unloaded the furs from his hunts for coin he decided he'd earned a break. One of the goblins he passed spoke highly of the Bobbing Head, and so he found himself staring at a shirtless dwarf.<br/><br/>"Don't get any ideas..." He held the axe close as he passed the madame and sat at the bar. The place smelled of sex and spirits, and for the first time since arriving, he didn't touch the axe.<br/><br/>He looked at the others at the bar, "What be good afta a long day of dealin' with rapta shit?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>