Gortingo's journal: Home Sweet Orgimmar
((Gortingo does not actually know how to write, so this is just a synopsis))
He had come home a week ago, from the jungles in Stranglethorn. They had left him behind, or he just got lost, Gortingo couldn't be sure. They were probably dead anyways. He wondered how he had gotten swept up in another tribe's troubles anyways. Hope, maybe, that somewhere in that jungle he would discover something he had been missing...but now there was just the dusty, messy, cramped room he called home to greet him.
It had probably been days since he had returned, mechanical bits and bobs were now organized into stacks around him, when there was a knock! Zorandi had come by to see if he had returned. Gortingo couldn't understand why, but the quiet druid always managed to brighten his day.
He had come home a week ago, from the jungles in Stranglethorn. They had left him behind, or he just got lost, Gortingo couldn't be sure. They were probably dead anyways. He wondered how he had gotten swept up in another tribe's troubles anyways. Hope, maybe, that somewhere in that jungle he would discover something he had been missing...but now there was just the dusty, messy, cramped room he called home to greet him.
It had probably been days since he had returned, mechanical bits and bobs were now organized into stacks around him, when there was a knock! Zorandi had come by to see if he had returned. Gortingo couldn't understand why, but the quiet druid always managed to brighten his day.