The Keep

Grot stared off over the white, windblown expanse of Winterspring, stroking his beard as he sat atop the singed and bloodied furbolg beneath him. There he pondered his next move, the chilled wind blowing his newly crafted robe about, irritating him slightly if not for his preoccupation.

His test had failed... In a way. Kali showed up that night in Tirisfal in her flowing black gown, the one he made for her. His failure did not strike him then. No, instead he was taken away by her dark beauty and the satisfaction of knowing she was wearing the product of his hands. Quickly he had embraced her, held her firmly in his arms and let blood and desire drive his actions. He had been a fool.

Each day Grot's power seemed to grow by leaps and bounds. When embarking on the path of the shaman, never had he dreamed such a thing was possible. How could it have been, with the restrictions of those fools? Instead now he sat amongst the blowing snow swearing he could feel that invisible crackle of power flowing between his fingers, feeling like it might never stop growing.

He had surpassed Kali as of late. In times long ago he would've felt much pride in that. However, everything he had done was to help her grow. Her natural strength and power seemed boundless. His unleashing of that should only have helped. Instead of feeling victorious, he felt defeated. His test had failed, and Kali was not keeping pace with him. In retrospect, his actions seemed selfish. "No", he thought to himself, "Kali and I are one now. As I grow, we grow."

That dreary night in Tirisfal was one of the happiest of his life. Though later on, he would doubt the sincerity. So insatiable was his love and desire for her, that in the end when he lay broken and powerless, his heart opened to her as it never had and he felt something that was strange and foreign to him. It would not last.

Standing up, Grot began plodding through the snow. Suddenly he was more aware of the bitter winds biting into his green skin, though before he could do anything about it, he sighted off in the distance a large band of furbolg blocking his path. He spat out the word "Nuisances."

Raising his hand it seemed to light aflame with dark energy, his will summoning a demonic temptress whom he loathed. She appeared in her usual fashion and before she had a chance to displease him further he gestured for her to get to work. Sighing in exasperation, she frowned and began running towards the group as her masters glare pierced her backside.

Before she could reach them one burst into flames. In the blink of an eye the entire group, minus one, was screaming in agony and rage. Having done his work, and done it efficiently, Grot cast his eyes to the conjured wench, his eyes bulging at her failure to charm the furry beast.

Brawling with the creature, the succubus fought with her whip and hands, unaware of her master quickly walking up behind her. Her adversary began to writhe from his inflictions and she was pleased, knowing the battle would soon be at an end. Quickly however, her smirk was wiped clean as his thick orcish hand grasped her about the neck, lifting her up before throwing her down into the cold snow.

The furbolg rained blows upon Grot as he stared down at the purple nymph, his breath heavy and furious, eyes alight with fire. Quickly he pounced down upon her, raining blows against her seemingly delicate face, words of hatred and damnation spewing onto her. In response she did... Nothing. The shock was too much, and she was overpowered.

Slowly, some of the furbolg began to waver, their life sapping from them quickly as they continued to beat on the warlock. Grot, however, was consumed by rage and unaware. Finally, as the demon went limp beneath him and started to lose consciousness, he dug his clawed thumbs into her eye sockets. Sharp tips piercing the orbs there, causing them to spurt her demonic ooze. Then, with one final shriek the demon faded into her foul realm.

The warmth of love and happiness that filled him that night in Tirisfal prompted him to turn to Kali, speaking in soft, respectful tones. "Kali my love, your companionship has fulfilled my every desire... Now, if I could, I would ask of you something." To which Kali of course nodded enthusiastically, awaiting Grot's request. "In you could be created the greatest orc known to the Horde. Together we could give birth to and raise a mighty child who would accomplish more than our wildest dreams! Tell me now, would you do this with me?"

To which she of course agreed. What else could she say?

Grot rose from the snow, leaving there only the indentations and blood his actions had created. Suddenly he grew aware of the situation and felt his own well being threatened. He spun about and witnessed the last of the vermin fall over, dead.

Sighing in disappointment, he pondered resummoning the wench once more, to inflict more suffering upon her for failing. Inside, however, he knew it was more than that. More, even, than his irritation with her nerve to assume she could seduce or usurp him.

Not bothering to bandage his many wounds, Grot stormed off through the snow, quickly hiding himself in the blowing snow on his way back to town. His conflict over what he had or had not been done to Kali subsided, now he was focused on finding her again, attending to business.