Zone B -- Forest

[Illidan Stormrage]

"Can I ask you something?" Gildarts said, pressing a small shrubbery to the side and strolling past it.
 
"I'm sure you will regardless of my consent," Illidan said drily, following close behind. The newcomer, Dust, tailed the night elf.
 
Another human. Why haven't I seen a single night elf in this competition? Is the Syntech Corporation racist? Definitely not against humans, at least.
 
"Back there, with the kindly old man. You didn't need to hit him. We weren't fighting."
 
"I'm over ten thousand years old, human. I'm too old to be put over your knee and spanked."
 
Gildarts spun and stopped. Illidan almost bumped into him. "Why did you hit him? Why be so petty?"
 
The kaldorei frowned. "I still owed him one. Technically two, since he smacked me in the temple and the throat with that walking stick of his. But I felt like being generous today."
 
"The fight was over," Gildarts returned. "Hitting him accomplishes nothing. If anything, he's more likely to attack us in the future."
 
"And which part of the fight that he scurried away from was supposed to endear us to him?" Illidan said, squaring his shoulders. The audacity of the human race boggled his mind sometimes. "Whether I took out my frustration on him or not, he is not walking away from us as an ally."
 
"But why aggravate the situation?" the mage said, hands on hips. "We don't need to give people more reasons to put us on their hit list. if-"
 
"Ha!" Illidan barked. "Perhaps it has escaped your chainsaw-addled mind, but this is a death tournament. We are travelling together because it makes sense to ally for the time being in order to gain a tactical advantage over the remainder of our opponents. Thus everyone else needs to be treated with disdain and mistrust. But at the end of the day, if we manage to survive to the end, we will battle each other. There is no other alternative."
 
The night elf pushed past Gildarts. "I cannot provide you with the resolve you are in desperate need of. Get your head together."