Gorosk was surprised to see another poor soul had been with them.  He must have fallen into a deep sleep at some point, to have not noticed another fellow prisoner.  The Elf must have kept quite still indeed.  Still they were all the better for her presence.  None of them seemed likely to head off on their own, to abandon whatever this task might turn out to be.  At least not yet.  Another body would help.  The Elf would bring further diversity to their little band.  He guffawed a bit and was unable to restrain a grin when his remark about his weapons went over her head.

“But you don’t have any weapons on you.” She had said.

Gorosk held his hands up before his face, clenched them slowly and tightly into first blades and then fists (knuckles cracking as he did so), and then flexed and stretched them against each other.

"These are my weapons Elf.  I am Gorosk.  A Half-Orc Monk of Aeridun.  What is your name?"