The Keep

Kali made sure Grot would live before she wandered out in the middle of the night. She had packed her backpack with all necessities, kissed Grot goodbye, and left. Her eyes were puffed up and red, her neck a hunter green, her hands bandaged at the knuckles, her breasts still tender. She wandered as in a trance from their home in Winterspring back to Orgrimmar, killing all in her path.

Finding herself in the small hut in Orgrimmar that she had earlier eavesdropped on Jin’zal proposing to Lae. She sat on the floor and closed her eyes.

She frowned. Her loyalty to Grot remained unhindered.

She remembered times past. She remembered who she was before Grot… changed her. She knew that this wasn’t to be stood for. That she should have left him to a painful, agonizing death for getting so much pleasure from night after night with that wench. Kali was a warrior, and this behaviour is not acceptable from a mate, let alone a lover, a childhood friend.

Kali was not experienced in the ways of love. All she ever had was Lae and Grot, and since Grot’s change, she felt useless. She could fight through enemies as though they were butter to her heated knife, but she remained powerless over her own will. She had enjoyed it, indeed, being unreserved and powerful. But she came home every night to a home that was not welcoming, to a lover’s arms that were coated in the blood of that wench. He took more pleasure in torturing her than he ever took pleasure in Kali’s loving arms.

And yet she remained loyal. Even as she felt his hands around her throat, she remained loyal. And she couldn’t understand why. She wasn’t a scholar. She didn’t understand what Grot preformed on her to make her this way, and she certainly didn’t understand her blind loyalty to the orc who hurt her so.

She quickly changed into the soft mageweave set that Grot so lovingly crafted for her, sat down against the wall, and pulled out her flask of mead that she brought with her from home. She drank them one after another until she fell into a sweet darkness.

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Kali’s axe fell into the human’s head with a delicious ‘crack’ as he crumpled to the ground. Her hands glowed bright with her fury as her eyes searched for another to kill. She frowned with disappointment when she realized that she stood alone.

She dedicated much time now to killing all alliance that she could. Their blood coated her new leg pieces, and new scratches and deeper wounds were dug into her green skin. She felt none of it. All she could feel now was the rage and the tightening in her heart and her gut. She had needed to run to the auction house earlier in the day and had passed Grot. She quickly left before he could say a word.

She needed time. Her bruise was still fresh, and his eyes held no apology. And she remained loyal.

She knew that she would return to him, but she remained unsure of why. Her mind reeled with possibilities of why he turned on her. She flashed back to the coldness in his eyes as his hands wrapped around her throat.

And it dawned on her. She wasn’t being good enough for him. She had failed him, and she needed to please him. He had become upset because of her inability to please and the demons took hold of him and he couldn’t fight back. She grinned happily at this realization, knowing it was something that she could do better and once she made him happy she wouldn’t need to worry about it.

She quickly walked back to their home and waited on the bed for Grot to return. She remained ever loyal.