The orc's tale enraptured Emrick.  Like magic and exploration, the mage was especially susceptible to good storytelling.  The way the orc spoke his tale, spilling his life story and his dark secret to two complete strangers romanced him in a way.    Emrick understood why the orc had become a warlock now: it wasn't a means to power or corruption, it was a life sentence served for the killing of a fellow orc.  He lacked the arrogance and pride of one who consorted with demons, his humble appeal for assistance striking a chord in Emrick's mind.  The mention of the Forsaken raid enraptured him further, the undead having having been a morbid fascination of his since the sacking of Dalaran.  He could find no compassion for the empty corpses - whether Scourge or Forsaken - that walked and slaughtered all in their path, but he took an odd delight in killing that which is already dead.  For the Forsaken, he could certainly take time out to do battle.<br/><br/>Emrick wanted to think about his reply, and so the draenei woman was able to speak first.  He was surprised to hear her pledge her support to this orc, despite her obvious racism and disdain for fel magic.  Perhaps there was more to the draenei than he had originally guessed.  And now she was speaking to him.<br/><br/>The mage loosely turned his gaze from Duran and locked eyes with the draenei.  Most found it uncomfortable, staring into the solid white discs that are their eyes, never knowing just where they are focusing on, but Emrick never had a problem with it.  People can look at what they want.<br/><br/><em>"How about you human? You've said that you're no demon hunter, but surely even an agent of the Explorer's League might enjoy clearing out some of the Forsaken filth and assorted Horde rabble who seek to terrorize this world.  It would be a good thing... I offer you my protection in the battle; my people produced great mages, but they are not precisely durable, should you agree to this I will be your shield."</em><br/><br/>The dwarf, Rommus, having been silent throughout the encounter, finally spoke up.  "A little fightin' never hurt anyone, lad," he said to Emrick, chuckling.  "And like ye said, a vacation's been a long time comin' fer you."<br/><br/>The mage nodded to his companion, weighing his words against Duran's story and the draenei's offer.  He had always tried to avoid combat, but had been forced on numerous occasions to defend himself.  He found he had knack for combining swordplay with sorcery, and Rommus<em>was </em>right...  Duran and the draenei looked experienced enough.  He could count himself safe in their presence.<br/><br/>And, more importantly, undead were killing innocents.  The idea of that atrocity made his stomach churn.<br/><br/>Emrick turned to face the draenei woman and Duran.  "Alright.  If you think I can help, I'll come."  His shortsword and shotgun were attached to Talia's harness, and he patted them for emphasis.<br/><br/>The mage looked at the draenei, his pride swelling in his throat.  "Any protection is welcome, but I'm not as fragile as you might think.  Explorer's liasion, sure, but don't think I can't defend myself."<br/><br/>Emrick winced inwardly, his reply coming out a little too snubbed for his liking; he wasn't one to be prideful or arrogant.  Maybe his lack of sleep was taking a greater toll on his mentality than he initially thought.  He wanted to say that having a seasoned draenei warrior in armor plating between him and any danger would be<em>very nice</em>, but what's done is done.<br/><br/>The young mage smiled uncomfortably, unsure of how to proceed.