Anxious murmurs filled the crowd as a large, powerfully built man in armor walked through the center of town, an extremely long sword strapped to his back. One look at the short tusks that protruded from his lower jaw in place of canines confirmed his identity: the man was an orc. The orcish man, known as Jurai, scanned the crowd with disappointment. He disliked it here, as he did in almost any human city. While he had officially been welcomed to Outlook, it had not been long ago that the people of this city had a 'shoot on sight' policy for orcs. Had Jurai not been officially declared a Champion, they might still have tried to kill him.<br/><br/>The man made his way through the square, trying to avoid making eye contact. He considered going somewhere more secluded, so as not to disturb the populace any further. The war may have officially united all of Terra, but bad blood doesn't just evaporate in the face of a common foe. Even he had been reluctant to work with Zenith, given the way they treated his people, but he knew that with the Beastlands destroyed, he had very little choice. This world needed fighters like him, and he needed them just as much. As skilled as he was, he could not face an army alone. Jurai took a seat on a stone bench, letting out a heavy sigh as he tried to clear his thoughts. He would need his focus for the coming battle.