The vile Witch Doctor known as Jumwa was tired of his failed attempts to secure the comforts of a woman, getting a little more than antsy when he first heard Renkka’s shy and soft voice over his new talisman. Before the night was out, they sat in her tiny apartment, her sipping drugged tea, him watching like a hungry predator, her loneliness and sadness apparent to anyone willing to stop and pay attention to her.

She hadn’t been her cheerful self, lately. Hathgrimm had betrayed the Tribe, Nazru had spat in its collective face (effectively ending their kind-of-not-really relationship that took on a higher degree of seriousness, only after she learned he had lost interest) and her Master, Zij, was simply too busy to pay the attention to her that she wanted.

It had been, simply put, a rotten few months for Renkka. Until she met the vile Witch Doctor and drank his tea, and fell to the comfort of his body.

Renkka soon had a new Master, with the blessing of Zij.

And Jumwa saw power in her. Not right away, for she was meek and blushed too often, and often skirted around words, but she was warm and loving. Beneath all that, however, was a strong woman, someone intelligent and wise, controlling the fel and manipulating her foes, able to easily create potions of potency far above her own tolerance. No matter how much she would downplay her power, it was there, and Jumwa was prepared to coax it out.

He was cunning, observant. It didn’t take long for him to realize her doting affections crossed the bounds of wanting to serve him to wanting to love him, and though she wouldn’t admit it to herself (for the dream was too far fetched) she wanted him to love her in return. And he wanted power. He made no apologies for his desires, often encouraging the young orcish woman with promises of more than a simple Master-servant relationship should she obtain the power to deserve it.

Renkka fought for the off chance that he was telling the truth, though she tried hard not to fantasize of being loved, not to get her hopes up.

But there were tests, of her own creation, that she needed to pass before she would allow herself to stand at Jumwa’s side, his Dark Queen.

The first was to earn a black war wolf, a mighty mount that would match Jumwa’s own, showing her dedication to both him, as well as her search of power.

The second, was to summon a dreadsteed.

The fel, combined with Jumwa’s influence was changing her. It wasn’t much, she thought, but enough that the fel no longer felt entirely normal as the incantations flowed from her mouth and hands. She had to fight harder, try harder to control her magics. Now she had surpassed her previous skills with curses, and that’s why it no longer felt so natural, she rationalized.

To know her, as a friend, was not to know this change. She only knew of Jumwa’s awareness, and she did the best she could to keep it that way. Always the sweet, meek, submissive orc woman near her friends, Renkka hoped her quiet demeanor, her denial of her talents, would somehow combat the slow change.

But tonight was not a night to deny or fight her skills. Too much was at stake for her not to give it her all. She walked in to Dire Maul Jumwa’s servant, his doting orc who calls him Master, but if all goes as planned, she would leave as his mate, his equal. The spell was the only way she knew to earn his true affections.

It wasn’t an easy spell, and long weeks were spent gathering materials, making margins, and dark deals with those of the legion. However, preparing for the ritual was the easy part. Before she could perform the ritual, she needed help. Xonil, an elf that Jumwa had introduced her to, had offered her aid long before Renkka even knew she would need it. With her, she had brought two of, what Renkka assumes to be, pupils; recognizing one as Azerai, an Ambassador for the Tribe, and his girlfriend, as she found out later that evening, Persephon. Of course Jumwa stood tall and proud at her side, excited at the surprise she had planned for him.

The five of them waited outside the impressive structure that housed dire maul, the humidity of Feralas weighing down what little clothing Renkka was wearing as she nervously pranced from foot to foot, nearly hyperventilating in excitement and fear as Jumwa tightly grips her tiny hand in his.

Quickly, they move, obtaining the key to the Western wing from a devilish imp that they all took pleasure in killing, and soon Dire Maul West was flowing with blood, energies of wronged elementals coursing through the air, making hair stand on end. The humidity had fallen inside, a pleasant warmth and electricity lingering, mixed with the scent of herbs and power that was heavy in the air.

The spirits, the elements, and those that swore to protect them were no match for the five adventurers as they slaughtered their way to the summoning circle. Xonil had completed her ritual in the past, and as Renkka understands it, often helps others, though she remained suspicious of her motives. Elves, Renkka had learned, could never be trusted. For tonight, however, the love and respect of her Master had driven her to gather aid from the most horrendous foes imaginable. Xonil was just one more.

Persephon, however, actually reminds her a little of herself; soft spoken and kind of shy, doting on Azerai, who seemed quiet and distracted. Judging from her previous encounters with the Ambassador, this seemed to be his nature.

And so the elf led the two Forsaken the Troll, and the very nervous Orc to the summoning circle, where there stood a great demonic beast. His skin looked like molten rocks, its teeth and claws huge, and it seemed fierce. Renkka’s jaw fell open and she let out a tiny moan of fear when Xonil announced they would be clearing the way to the circle and killing the beast that guarded it.

But in a flurry of blades, curses and frost, Persephon protecting them from harm and treating their wounds, the beast fell with a large thud to the cold, rock ground. Gasping from breath, Renkka sat next to the beast, staring into its dead eyes before taking a flask of conjured water from her bag. Quickly drinking and trying to regain her composure, they sat and listened as Xonil explained to them the ritual battle.

“Is anyone familiar with what this ritual entails?” Xonil asked, standing in front of them, holding herself straight and tall, looking very professional, and, though Renkka loathed to admit it, intimidating.

“I am certainly not, but am most intrigued,” Jumwa said, smiling at Renkka.

“Here is the gist. I will release the imp J’eevee who will place three relics within the summoning circle. The relics will do a combination of things. I will be spending my time mostly keeping them going, so I will not be able to help you much with regard to killing the swarm of demons that come about.

“The candle will deal damage in periodic bursts. We will not need to pay much attention to the imps that come, since the candle will mostly handle those. Another relic will keep Renkka and I healed and with mana. The third will prevent some damage, which will also help invalidate the imps. Kill them if you must, but focus your fire on the Felguards. After a period of time, we will be able to pull the dreadsteed to this plane from the planet Xoroth. It will not come through tame, and we will have to kill it. Afterward, Renkka will be able to speak with its spirit, and learn to summon it. Any questions?”

Persephon looks at Xonil and raises her hand in the air.

“Yes, Persephon?”

“I….am going to be focused on healing all of you, right Mistress Xonil?”

“Yes, just make sure nobody dies.”

Renkka gulped in a deep breath, nodding to Xonil and hugging herself to Jumwa. He squeezed her to him tightly, kissing her forehead and smiling down at her, his black tusks and tongue a contrast to his white tattooed face.

“Quite exciting.” Jumwa pats the hilts of his axes, “Nearly dere. I’m excited for ju… for us.” He grinned.

She smiled at Jumwa before nodding to Xonil, readying herself for the waves of demons to come. Xonil set down the relics, and soon the empty room filled, the demons being called from the nether. Twisted, angry noises filled the air, crying out their anger at Renkka’s wanting. They readied themselves for battle, but suddenly they stopped, returning to the nether.

Renkka spun around, crying out “what happened!” her eyes watering in fear and rage, desperately searching for the demons.

“Chin up, Renkka. You are in capable hands.” Xonil coaxed, moving the relics around, nodding to herself in approval. Still whimpering slightly, Renkka ran to Jumwa, who wrapped his muscular arms around her, pulling her body into his, whispering in her ear comforting promises of the love and affection, and power and death, that was to come. He released her, spinning her about to kiss her forehead, and with another deep breath, Renkka nodded, a new look of determination on her face, as Xonil finished putting things back in place.

And the demons came, and the demons fell, no match for the five who sought to destroy them. One by one they were sent back to the nether in agony, crying out for their misfortune.

The last demon was finally called, a beautiful stallion, strong, proud, and pissed off. The prize she longed for. She knew, if she could summon the beast under her power, it would be enough to convince Jumwa of her worth. With another roar of curses and frost, the energies in the room turning it electric, they charged the horse with their powers. Burning through its strength, Renkka cried for the owner to come forth, and grant her his powers. Mouthing a few more incantations, the dreadlord appeared, howling his disapproval of their acts.

There was nothing that could stand between Lord Hel’nurath and his death, not with their personal desires to please and impress. The battle was short in comparison to the time it took to set up the ritual, and when he cried for his last breath, Renkka could feel the power leave him, thrusting into her, the fel pulsing stronger in her veins. She let out a loud, triumphant cheer, leaping into Jumwa’s arms, throwing him slightly off balance as he smiled proudly down on her, showering her face in kisses.

“Ju did it!” Jumwa exclaimed happily, as Renkka nodded, still in disbelief “I did it, Master Jumwa!” Jumwa hugged Renkka tightly, brimming with joy, “Den it’s complete. Ju fulfilled jour part of de agreement, my love!” “I… we did it.”

Jumwa kissed Renkka and grinned, “Finally. My dark Queen is truly here.” Renkka blushed, squeezing Jumwa tight. “Calls for celebration!” Jumwa nodded, “Of course. We’ve much to celebrate.”

“We are done, here. Good work, everyone.” Xonil nodded, “And Renkka, before I go…” Renkka turned, looking at Xonil. “Know only that, in time…the debt will be repaid. I look forward to your assistance.”

They hearthed back to Shattrath, and Jumwa and Renkka went to the inn, closing the door behind them as they lay exhausted in one another’s arms. Renkka leaned over, kissing Jumwa’s cheek, before he turned and kissed her lips, grinning mischievously. “None of dat.”

Renkka smiled, blushing happily. “It was worth it.” Jumwa smiled, “dat it was. Now our pact is complete Renkka.”

“Quite the night, Master Jumwa.”

Jumwa smiled, “Ju remembah ju no longah need ta call me dat, hm?”

Renkka nodded, pressing against him. “Even if we are… whatever we are now, I still like to show… my respect and adoration for you… M”¦ Master is the way I show that. One of the ways…”

Jumwa nodded with a grin, “I like dat. And now… ju are my mate, plain and simple. De only one I have evah took. De only one worthy.”

Renkka blushes again, sighing against Jumwa’s chest, holding his hand in hers. “I love you, Jumwa. I adore you. You’re everything I hoped my mate would be… though I never figured… I always figured it would be an Orc, when… when I first thought of it. But… you’ve exceeded everything I could ever hope for… You’re so marvelous.”

Jumwa hugged Renkka close, cradling her and stroking her arm, “I love ju Renkka. De most satisfying person I have evah met in all my years,” he spoke softly, kissing her forehead. “Togeddah… we can do so much.” Jumwa’s smile curled up into a grin, “Jumwa de Vile, and Renkka de Dark Queen. We are unstoppable. Believe me. We shall be capable of terrible wrath.”

Renkka had done it. She sat at Jumwa’s side, the Goddess of death he had wished her to become. She felt complete.

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