Kali stalked in to the hut in Winterspring, her pack full of meat and furs, growling slightly. She tossed down her pack to the floor, scattering the contents, tossing her helm down with it. She was a strong warrior, muscular, scarred, her skin a brownish-green, her hair black and pulled into two tight knots on top of her head. She stood, tall and proud, an intimidating female orc; so her stomping in with a terrible scowl on her face, and a shout in her voice, was cause for alarm.
“I can’t take this anymore! We need out of here and back to the Horde!” she shouted, her eyes narrowed in anger.
Her mate, Grot spun around and stared at Kali shocked, jaw hanging open slightly. His skin was sallow and not as bright as it once was, and his eyes were red, a reminder of the pacts he’s made. Across his left eye were three red scars, a reminder of the price of his pacts.
Kali sighed at Grot, frowning and shaking her head, the anger lessening when she saw her lover’s shocked face. “Don’t look at me like that,” she scowled.
“Kali… are you… okay? I thought this time away… was what was best for us,” he spoke, his voice deep and soothing, though laced with confusion.
“It was… for the first month… and the second… but this is going on, what…? How much time has passed? It’s not helping anymore,” she snarled. “It’s boring.”
Grot took his monocle and cleaned it on his robe. “Well… I… Return? You… want to return to the fight?”
“This is no way for a warrior to live and you know it,” she nodded, determined.
Grot stalked over towards the bed and stroked his beard, his brow furrowed in thought.
“No way for orcs to live and die,” Kali continued.
“But… it’s been so long. And here… you are… mine. I don’t understand this sudden change,” he spoke, looking out the window before turning and eyeing Kali up and down. “What’s gotten into you?”
Kali kicked at the ground, cleaning the blood from her blades, growling at his words, “Too much time to think.” “You’ve not questioned me in ages. It’s… surprising. I… return after all this time?” Grot sighed and stroked his beard, trailing off his vision to the corner of the room.
Kali narrowed her eyes slightly, avoiding looking at him, gritting her teeth, “It takes…” she frowned, unable to speak the words. “It’s right.”
“I… well… I guess we could do something, Kali… but it’d be like starting again. Nobody to return to.”
“We return to Thrall. We start again. We aid the Warchief, and right this time,” she nodded, determination and a new found anger on her face, shivering a little, her teeth still gritted, trying to avoid the implications Grot was making.
“Right? What do you mean, Kali?” Grot raised his brow, eying Kali still as if he’s looking upon a wholly new orc.
“I don’t want to be involved with those… playing with power they don’t understand and can’t control. I want us to fight for the Horde, not…” Kali frowned again, shaking.
“You’re shivering… are you okay?” Grot steps forward holding out his arms. Kali sighed, her resolve weakened, as she stepped forward and put her head on Grot’s chest, still shaking. He held her to his chest, “Kali… you seem so troubled… it’s not… like you.”
Kali half-sighed, half-growled, “there aren’t words to explain. Just… been thinkin’.” He kissed her head, looking down at her, “You truly wish to return and go back to fighting for the Horde… start again?
“We can’t stay holed up here forever. Now is as good as any, don’t you think?” she nodded against his chest. Though her anger had been somewhat satiated, her resolution was not.
“Well… our contacts are gone. The ones I commanded… undoubtedly they’ve lost interest in following me with my absence.”
“So?! When did you become so… passive? You don’t thirst for battle?” she cried, causing Grot to pull back slightly, shocked. “Kali! Why do you speak to me like this?!”
She snarled softly, her teeth bared, “I thirst for something I can’t get here,” a harsh glint to her eyes as she looked at Grot, unresolved pain and hurt hidden between the red in her own eyes. “Remember?”
Grot furrowed his brow angrily, “What?”
Kali snarled again, looking at his him, “You know, Grot. We don’t need to talk about it. But we both know what’s done. I need battle. I’m restless.” Grot placed his hands on her hips, “Don’t be absurd. I’ll fuck you Kali, and it’ll ease your mind.” He grinned and leaned in towards Kali’s face.
Kali sighs, fighting a tiny smile from her lips, her emotions flittering from rage to love and back again, “Grot… I’ve thought about it. We need it. We’ll make new contacts. Fight hard, grow strong.” He bit Kali’s neck and pressed into her, his hands sliding down to her ass, cupping it, “You just haven’t been taking out your aggression with me enough Kali. We’ll solve that.”
“We can do that as we fight for the Horde,” she growled, not bothering to fight his wandering hands and lips, as he ground into her, kissing and licking the bite marks on her neck. She sighed again, “I’m being serious, Grot. I need this. Have you become so pleased with my complacence? Have you learned to love my unquestioning ways?” she snarled, and he pulled his head away to stare at her, again causing her eyes to soften. “We need this.”
“What are you talking about? You seriously want us to leave our home? Leave all we have together?”
“Leave what? You, I, and all of our belongings will come with us! Grot! Listen to yourself! You used to fight! Now you’re happy just sipping tea and fucking?”
Grot snarled slightly, his buttons being pushed by his titaness, “I am still able to slaughter with the best of the Horde, Kali!”
“Then do it! Stop talking about it and do something! You can’t be happy like this. I know you better than to know you want a meek little servant girl.”
“Servant girl?! You are my vicious Kali! My Titaness!”
“Not now I’m not. All I am is your fuck toy.”
Grot stared at her in disbelief, “You…” he started, Kali staring up with him with a frown on her face, “I… guess you are leaving me no choice Kali…” he nodded, causing another snarl to erupt from deep in her chest, “It’s your choice too, Grot! You know that. You know it’s what’s needed. What’s right.”
“Then… not long from now I shall fuck you bloody and battered, just as… we desire most.”
“Dabu.” Kali nodded, pausing for a moment, “not my blood… or yours,” she grinned, knowing she had convinced him to return.
Grot shook his head, “Not unless we’ve gotten rusty,” he grinned at her wickedly. She finally stopped fighting her smile, nodding. “We’ll start new… fresh. None of the badness of our past. No more… jumping for you…” Grot nodded slowly, “Zug zug. We shall… start as true orcish mates. United in combat. Wed in blood.”
“What will we bring to the Horde other than our battle skills? Anything of the past?”
“We shall start again. New names… prove ourselves starting anew,” Grot nodded, stroking his beard and looking away, eying the book on Grom Hellscream, “I shall be Gromth… in honour of Grom.” Kali nodded her approval, “I will be…” she hrmed, looking around. Not seeing anything of note, she looked at the ceiling, “I will be Draeka, named for the woman strong enough to bare Thrall. A mighty orcess,” she nodded again.
“I shall prove myself as worthy a mate as Grom or Thrall, Draeka.”
“I will make sure I am… continue to be a good mate to you.”
“You are a mighty orc. You could be nothing but.”
“Zug Zug Grot-mth.”
Gromth grabbed Kali about the waist and tugged her close kissing her lips hard, “The Titaness shall return to make the alliance quiver and die.” She sighed happily, finally letting her body relax, “I love you.”
Gromth smiled and clutched Kali close, “I love you my vicious Draeka. Your bloodlust will not be denied,” he growled low in his chest, as she roughly grabbing his head, pressing his lips violently to hers.
Readjusting wasn’t easy.
Gromth cracked his knuckles, the thick fingers of his hands flexing. All those months in Winterspring had led to his losing the edge. A year ago he was at the top of his game, never more powerful, on the fast track through the military’s ranks.
Now he stood peering out over the desolate fields of Shadowmoon Valley, his right eyelid quivering over his bloodshot eye as he replaces his monocle over it. This place had a lot of meaning to it, much of it beyond his time and grasp.
“Dabu,” nodding to nobody in particular he turned, passing, then pausing and returning, his gaze to the felguard beside him. His eyes traveled up the hulking form beside him in disgust, then he croaked out in his usual deep voice, “Disgusting abomination. You’ve served your purpose and now you’ll submit or be abolished for all time.”
He gestured with his fist for the demon to follow; it’d been a crutch for too long in getting him back to his old self. Time to reshape it or break it and throw it away.
That was just part of it however. Tromping along he knew his decision. He’d throw in his lot with the band of guerilla fighters, the Burning Tusk Tribe, so dedicated to preserving the past and their identities. They’d accept the offer to lend their skills and talents, and to help in training and war for the Tribe.
It was then he spied the lovely warrior Draeka. Her curvy orcish form covered in inches of thick plate, she pulled her sword from the stone body of the infernal she slew and gave him an odd look through the visor of her helm, quirking en eyebrow. “What’ve you got on your mind now? And don’t tell me you’ve decided we’ll go do somethin’. I’m not jumpin’ at orders anymore.”
He grinned at her happily despite himself, “Nope. You were right. Now, if you’ll join me Sergeant, got some work to do.” It was an embarrassment to him for so long that he was shut out of a rank higher than Senior Sergeant. Since returning however he’d grown bitter towards that and wore it proudly, they’d see what this lowly Sergeant could do.
Pausing momentarily, Draeka sheathed her sword and started clanking along beside him. The two orcs walked silently, nothing more had to be said then. Draeka was back, and Gromth was not far behind, their new selves would be true to their namesakes.