[center][h1]ℜ𝔢𝔫𝔞𝔲𝔩𝔱 𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔱[/h1][/center]
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If realization hadn't told Renault that Gorosk was Orc-Blooded, then Vah'lux's response certainly did. The woman who mere moments ago was still and quiet as a statue, suddenly began spouting utterances in her native language. The words were alien to Renault, but one's tone-of-voice transcends language barriers, and Vah'lux was [i]angry[/i].

[i]"I thought I smelled the cowardly blood of an Orc..."[/i] She finally spat in Common, venom dripping with every word. With hands clasped firmly 'round the bars of her cell, Renault wondered for a moment if she'd pry them apart in her subdued fury. 

Blindly scouring his hand across the ground to find the wall beside him, Renault propped himself up to his feet, every movement drawing cracks and pops from his joints that were accompanied by an appropriate grimace. 

The two began exchanging barbed remarks, and it was evidently clear that any experience Vah'lux had with Orcs was a negative one. Not surprising, perhaps even the standard. Orc war bands and raiding parties were sadly not uncommon, and Renault's blade had been called upon more than once to defend the unprotected villages. But a Half-Orc...Renault had heard stories of Orc warlords forcing themselves on female captives, whether a progeny was expected or even intended was a different story.

Putting the grim thought behind him, Renault moved until he, too, was pressed against the cold iron bars. "There's no use in quarreling here, we're all brothers and sisters in binds, now. We're going to be here awhile, best make the most of it."

[hider=Rolling for Diplomacy to try and dissuade Gorosk and Vah'lux from arguing further][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/17791]5[/url][/hider]