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But there was stillsomething that eluded him. The reason he had come to Orgrimmar on thisparticular day. Brumak stared at his reflection in the mirror, releasinga burp. Suddenly it hit him, like a thunderbolt from a blue sky. The orcblanched in horror. Brumak's hands whipped up to his neck and hisfingers fumbled around at the nape of his neck. For one panic-strickeninstant the orc couldn't find anything with his thick fingers but then tohis utmost relief his fingers closed around a small, virtually invisiblenub at the nape of his neck.The rich green skin of the orc's neck parted cleanly and bloodlessly, andas he kept pulling down a long seam running down his back becameapparent. Through the parted green skin a pale-skinned back could begleaned. With a final grunt Brumak tugged the seam down to his waist, andthen reached up to tug at his head with his hands. With a sucking noisethe orc's crude, strong features crumpled and became empty and hollow.The two strong hands tugged forward. Predominantly urine, but a sickly sweet, acrid odor too. And a hint of Lysol. His eyes adjusted slowly as he slipped in, and closed the door behind him. There was a bare light bulb at the end of the hall, to the right of the stairs which started just past the steel panel that read "Super". He thought about knocking, but decided not to. No sense in drawing attention to himself. In his light raincoat, worn against a threatened rainstorm tonight, and worsted brown suit, the tie loosened on his white shirt, he already stood out too much in this neighborhood.As he struggled to take it in, this place, this awful place, a guy staggered down the stairs who looked like a homeless man. With a heavy, ratted beard, a knitted hat pulled tight to his head, but hair still sticking wildly down from under it, and three layers of dirty clothes, he was the picture of destitution. As the man slithered past Dan, the body odor added to his horror. Susan, lovely, earthy Susan. Here? In this hell of a walk.
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