The evening heat was thick in the air, the smell of fresh soil rich and heady in Ashenvale. Bright as it was, for the full moon glowed in the sky, illuminating the purple and red and green foliage, slight amounts of perspiration glistening off their surfaces.
The large, obtrusive orcish building stood strong and proud against the evening, the banners swaying in the slight breeze, and inside the Keep sat a massive Troll of the Burning Tusk Tribe. Jumwa’jin. The Vile. His muscular body was draped in expensive fabrics and furs, a large cigar hanging loosely from his blackened lips as he watched his little elven fiend at work.
A female orc lay face down, hog tied and bare, welts and bruises covered her otherwise smooth, green skin, breathing loudly in anger. Her eyes flashed red and dangerous, she was obviously no new comer to the Horde – old enough to have tasted blood. But helpless she was under the prodding and poking hands of his Lieutenant, Kaesa.
It was another celebration for the two; another present for her Chieftain and another method of proving her unyielding devotion. The orc was just in the wrong skin in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Jumwa shifted slightly in his seat, moving to grab the cigar and inhale sharply, speaking in a low, sadistic voice, “best get de whip again, she keeps glaring, hm.” He smirked slightly over at Kaesa before looking down at the enraged orc, “she needs to be taught.”
Kaesa smirked as she stood from her place next to the orc, stepping over her back to the chest they had brought for just this occasion, reaching in and fumbling around at the sharp and hard and menacing objects, her soft, black leather outfit tight to her body.
Unseen or unheard by either through their inebriated haze, however, was the footsteps of a male orc. He stood for a moment at the entrance, confused at Jumwa’s voice for a moment before striding towards the inner entrance, assuming that he had caught a spy, or better, the one who had killed Zij and was working on interrogation.
He stopped cold in his tracks at the lyrical laughter of Kaesa, who had evidentially found what she was looking for and strode towards the troll, “mmm, an’ just how hard should I beat her, lover?” she giggled again, leaning down to his level.
Jumwa growled softly, grinning at her and grabbing her waist, pulling her to him and kissing her lips, cigar still dangling dangerously close to her long, black hair. “Do it until she stops glaring.”
Uunruk moved slower to the door, grateful for the soft, leather shoes he had opted for, peaking his head in through the darkness. His eyes slowly adjusted to the candlelight, quickly looking down at the orc woman on the floor, his eyes growing wide in shock. Pausing for a moment, he moved to look in further, his jaw dropping at the sight of Jumwa and Kaesa kissing at one another hungrily.
He broke it off, pulling back from her and putting his large hands behind his head, relaxing back, “go teach her,” he commanded, his smirk not faltering. She nodded and looked at him, speaking in a low, seductive tone, “hope ju enjoy your present as much as I do,” turning on her heels and walking back to the middle of the floor. She flicked the handle of the whip in her hand, putting a foot on the orc woman’s head, pressing her roughly into the stone ground.
Uunruk covered his mouth as he felt bile rising in his throat and Kaesa snapped her head suddenly in his direction, squinting into the darkness.
Uunruk ran.
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The humid night air filled the seemingly tight corridors of the Keep as the broad troll Jumwa’jin walked with his lieutenant at his side, both of them dressed casually for the evenings meeting. Jumwa, wearing only silver and blue gloves and kilt, smirked and laughed at some quip by his tiny elven right-hand, dressed in black pants and a red top, giving the impression she was on her way to a bar.
The circling corridors dragged on for some time, the trolls mighty footpads were the only sound, other than their muttering and snickering.
As they approached one of the guards in the hallway, those unnoticeable orcs, dressed all alike, Jumwa noticed a second too late the edginess and the tight grip he had on his staff. Only realizing after, he turned his head, looking at the orc oddly, “Wh- ” Suddenly the orc spun and blocked the hallway with the staff as more orcs poured out of the chamber ahead. Two, then another two, then another.
Treachery.
His anger over it was sudden, but so was his response. As Kaesa pressed up against Jumwa’s back, eying the orc blocking their escape, she lamented her near defenselessness with some muttered curses. Jumwa, however, with no hesitation attached his pointed fist weapon to his right hand and lunged at the column of orcs ahead of him. The tall, gray troll immersed in his own gray cloud of elemental wind.
The orcs were caught off guard in that brief moment of inspection where they believed they had caught the tyrant defenseless. However a half-armed and nearly armourless Jumwa’jin was not all that he normally was. Thrusting the jagged point of his fist weapon into the neck of one orc, he grasped the speer of another with his empty hand, twisting it and pushing back against them, setting the orc off balance.
The broad troll towered over them and seemed to be controlling the situation, when one of the orcs in the second row jammed their spear down into Jumwa’s shoulder, eliciting a loud cry of pain. It was quickly followed by the loud utterance of a spell however, that sent the orc reeling in shocking agony. The sound of combat seemed to trigger louder noises coming from the main meeting hall just around the corner. The Tribe! They were alive and fighting now.
Behind him, Kaesa darted her eyes back and forth from her lover and boss to the orc guarding their escape. Seeing the orc panic in the face of Jumwa’s counter attack and prepare to come at them, she gracefully fell down onto one knee and pulled a knife from her boot. One swift jab up beneath the orcs jaw was all it took for the quick and graceful elf to do the work.
Turning back, the orcs blood spraying from his open mouth as he slumped down, she called out to Jumwa “Let’s go!” As she spun back around to run, she saw an orcish bowman, arrow already notched. She dove back against Jumwa to knock him out of the way, but she impacted against him like striking a brick wall, barely budging him at all.
As Jumwa turned his head to look at Kaesa with irritation, still grappling with two of the orcs, he saw the bowman’s arrow strike her threw her lower right stomach, the tip protruding right through her body causing a shriek of pain.
Filled with rage, his eyes bloodshot and chest now ripe with open wounds, he slammed the last orc’s head to the wall with a sickening sound. Jumwa scooped up Kaesa in his free arm and ran at the bowman, taking an arrow in his own chest as he charged.
Before he could close the distance, the orc dropped his bow and deftly pulled out an axe, swinging it for Jumwa’s unprotected neck. His eyes wide, the troll did his best to parry the blow, instead taking a grazing strike across the chin and cheek. With little hesitation he discarded the elf under his arm, and she rolled into a dark nook.
Elbowing the orc in the side, he shoved him against the wall and took him off guard long enough to get past. As he prepared to turn the corner he placed his hand on the wall to help pivot, then…
“Ahhhhhgg!” Jumwa’s eyes shot open wide and his head flung back. He looked to his hand and saw it fall lifelessly to the ground, cleaved from him above the protection of his glove to the cold stone floor. Falling to his knees he attempted desperately to regain his composure, but all that occurred was his slumping further down, now only propping himself up on his bloody stump.
Jumwa’jin’s reign was over after so short a time. He cursed the fate he didn’t believe in.
Leaping with a scream from the shadows, Kaesa landed atop the orcs back and clung around his neck. Her screams continued loud and crazed as she jabbed her knife into his neck over and over.
The not-quite-yet-deposed Jumwa’jin turned to look behind, greeted by the sight of Kaesa panting atop the orcish body as it slumped into the ground, gurgling through his many open neck wounds as he died on the stone floor. His elven lover looked to him, clutching the wound in her torso, eyes watery, “Don’t leave me.”
Taking a moment to compose himself, he stood up and swayed, his mind racing for a moment before he walked back and tried to pick her up unsuccessfully with his severed hand. He stooped down in front of her, letting her climb onto his back, clinging around his neck as he carried her out.
Making their way through the corridors and rooms of the restricted areas of the Keep, it seemed to take forever with his gushing wounds and dead weight on his back, but finally they made it to the back entrance and the path so perilously near the cliffs edge.
Stepping out into the heavy rain, Jumwa desperately tried to maintain his balance on the slippery edge, taking them towards safety. Panting he could taste the hope for victory on his lips again; he’d live and return to get his revenge. When he was but a few steps from ultimate escape and his mind raced to plans for hiding out in Azshara, he turned and through the rainy night caught glimpse of one large orc talking to another, holding Jumwa’s severed hand like a trophy.
Jumwa grated his teeth in anger. Uunruk. The talisman had been silent for some time, he just now realized. An elaborate trap that left them all disconnected now in the chaos.
The name rang through his mind repeatedly, even as his body shifted into the form of a large wolf, racing into the dark Ashenvale forest with Kaesa clinging to his fur. Uunruk. Uunruk.