Hey there! I lost all my previous writing, but I did get my own laptop, which is nice. I should be writing more, though still sporadically due to work. I hope you like it! Reviews very much appreciated.
I stare at what we've discovered at the Fel Forge. Yrel had mentioned recieving word about this, they are constructing a Fel Reaver. Not like one I've ever seen before though. The ones in Outland are dangerous, but downright primitive compared to the sight in front of me. I sigh and crouch down. Loki and I have been killing these fel-enhanced orcs all day here, I think I can have a moment to rest before heading back.
"Raaaagh!" I hear behind me. I whip my head around and see one of those fel warlocks managed to escape my view the first time around. I stand and hoist my gun up, preparing to fire, but pause as time slows down and I watch the horrifying sight of the orc's sickly green blast wave throws Loki back into one of the fel sludge rivers running all throughout the Tanaan Jungle.
Let me elaborate on these rivers for you. I don't know what effects they could have on us adventurers, I just assume it would be bad since it's, y'know, demonic in nature and emanates heat. I'm not about to throw myself into one of the rivers to find out exactly what it does, let me tell you. For all I know, it could be instant death, or a slow, inescapable painful death. It's probably death in some form. Normally I would never pause, but watching Loki—even if he is a massive pain in my ass—fly into that fel river of death shocks me for just a moment.
As Loki hits the sludge and I hear his shriek echo in my mind, I leap up and do the first thing that comes to mind; I beat the orc senseless with the butt of my gun. As he lays on the ground in front of me comatose, all I can think is I need to dispatch him as fast as possible. Loki could be dead. I hoist up my gun and fill the unfortunate orc's head with bullets.
"Loki!" I call, running towards the edge of the river. "Can you get out?" I search the sludge, but don't see any sign of him. I feel a sinking feeling. He's not dead, is he?
"I'm here, I'm alive, and this shit is itchy." I turn around and let out a loud sigh of relief. I sprint over to where Loki has dragged himself out and throw my arms around his neck.
"You're fine, you're okay, you're... sticky. Eugh." I let go and inspect him. His fur is sticking up and all directions and there's sludge everywhere. "Does it hurt?"
"Not really. More itchy and uncomfortable." He lifts a paw and scratches at the sludge, but it doesn't move.
"Does it come off?" I say, worried. Less worried now than I was, since he's obviously alive and mostly well.
"I dunno. I just pulled myself out of the river if you remember."
"Thanks for reminding me, I had no idea." I stick my tongue out at him. "You can lick it off, I'm sure." He lets out a little growl and begins licking his paw. Well, for a moment.
"Eugh! Yuck!" He shakes his head and splutters. "That's NASTY! I am not licking all of that off and you can't make me."
"Go scrape it off on some orc or something then." I wrinkle my nose. "And then bathe yourself. You smell awful. I'm going to go back to Lion's Watch to tell Yrel about this." I jerk my head towards the fel construct we found.
"So the Iron Horde are building a Fel Reaver. You said most if not all of the orcs working on it's construction are no more, yes?" Yrel asks.
"Yes, Exarch." I nod. "That should slow down any sort of attacks they might have been planning."
"Indeed it will." She smiles. "Go get some well deserved rest. My people thank you."
I nod and leave the building. Where is Loki? I thought for sure he'd be back by now.
"This damned sludge won't come off! I tried scraping it off everywhere I could think of; trees, rocks, grass, ruins, orcs, demons, nothing worked. Well, the orcs kinda worked, but it would have been easier if they weren't trying to murder me to death. Not the most friendly of chaps." Think of the devil and he appears.
"Wait, you actually tried to scrape it off on an orc?" I grin. Now that's a funny mental image.
"You can't say I never listen. It's what you told me to do." I roll my eyes.
"I can accuse you of selective hearing though."
"What do you expect? I'm a cat and don't understand all the nuances of humanoid speech."
"Yeah okay, you're playing that card about 3 years too late."
"Fel orcs approaching the stronghold!" I turn at hearing the herald, then stare accusingly at my pet. "You've got to be kidding me, you actually tried to scrape the sludge off on orcs?!"
"That's what I fuckin' said."
"And you lead them to Lion's Watch?" I pull my gun out of its holster on my back.
"Well, seeing as they arrived here minutes after I do... I think that's exactly what I did. Oops. Should we go fight them?" He crouches and a look of excitement crosses his sludge-caked face.
"YOU are staying here. I am going to go kill them. You've done enough damage."
"But...!" He sits and frowns at me.
"No. Stay. Bad kitty."
Back at Cyr's garrison...
I stare at Loki, trying to not grin at his plight. It's hard. He's so ridiculous, scratching at his fur frantically trying to get the sludge out.
"Would you like some help?"
"What exactly would you suggest? Because just scratching isn't doing anything. At this rate all my fur is going to fall out." He snaps at me.
"Well, I was thinking..." I pause and let the smile I've been holding back show. "...we have that pond." He drops his paw and glares at me.
"Yeah, what about it? I don't think a swim will do anything."
"I was thinking more along the lines of a bath. You stink, dude." I wrinkle my nose and lean away to demonstrate.
"A bath? No. You'll pick some stupid flowery smell and it'll be ridiculous. I don't need a bath. I'll figure something else out."
"Okay. If you can't you know where to find me..." I say in a singsong voice as I stroll away towards the town hall.
"I won't need you. Jerk." Loki mutters.
Roughly fifteen minutes after I walked away from the epic battle that is Loki vs. fel sludge, I hear a frustrated yowl and pounding steps coming towards me in the town hall. I look up from the follower reports to see an even spikier, sludge-caked feline sitting in front of me with a pouting expression on his face. I consider him at length for a few moments.
"Yes?" I ask, trying to sound mild.
"Inedabaf." He mutters something. I smile.
"What was that you said?"
"I need a bath."
"You need a what?" I grin widely now, baring my sharp canines.
"A bath. Give me a bath. In the pond. With one of your stupid flowery scents." I stand up and lay the reports down.
"Okay." Loki looks surprised.
"Okay? Easy as that?" I nod and smirk at his shocked expression.
"Let's go get you cleaned up. Mangy beast."
"Jerk."
Loki actually asked me to give him a bath and as we approach the pond in my garrison, he plods along slowly behind me like he's going to the gallows. It's oddly cute—not that I'd say that. I need to keep him humble and his head able to fit in the garrison.
"I hate baths." I hear him grumble as we get to the edge of the water.
"I know you do. But it's either have a bath or be banned to the stables until you lick it off."
"Eugh... fine." He lopes closer to the water and dips a paw in. "It's cold!"
"Well yeah. It's a pond. I don't heat it. Don't be such a baby." I roll my eyes at his responding whine.
"Are you getting in with me? Or are you scared of the cold water?"
"No, I'm not. Someone needs to scrub you and I wouldn't subject my followers or guards to that. Speaking of which..." I trail off. I need soap.
"I'll splash you."
"I know you will. Which is why I'm going to get my revenge in the form of girly soap."
I stand and turn to see a guard slowly patrolling the path coming towards the pond and back of the garrison. I wave at her and beckon. Her eyes widen and she points to herself. I nod and wave her over.
"Yes, Commander?"
"I have a favor to ask of you."
"Name it. I am sworn to your service." She begins to bow, but I hold up a hand.
"I appreciate the bowing, but I don't need that right now." She raises a brow and waits. "What I do need is soap."
"Soap, commander?" A confused expression flits across the guard's face.
"Yes'm, soap. Preferably a particularly strong scent. I need to scrub off this mangy beast here who got himself stuck in demon sludge." I gesture towards the spiked, dirty Loki sitting on his haunches next to me, who just innocently meows at the guard.
"Oh. Hrm." The guard pauses, a thoughtful look on her face. She opens her mouth to speak after a moment, only to be interrupted by a new voice.
"Beater boss-lady?" I turn to greet one of my weirder followers: an ogron.
"Yes, Blook? Is there something you need?"
"Erm, no boss. Me hears you need soaps?" I raise my eyebrows.
"I do just so happen to need some soap."
"Me uses this. Maybe beater boss can use it to clean boss-kitty?"
I try and fail to hold back laughter at the name. Boss-kitty?! I'll have to ask Loki about that later. I pluck the small glass bottle in Blook's giant mitt and look at it closer; its filled with a thick, dark pink liquid. I pop the cork out of the top and sniff. Pause, then sniff again.
"Strawberry, Blook?"
"Me likes Strawberry Kiss to relax, boss." I stifle the laugh and nod slowly.
"Thank you, I will use this. I appreciate your help."
"Me would like more of that later."
"I'll see if I can find some in Stormshield later." Apparently pleased, Blook ambles away loudly.
I look at the guard still standing next to me. Her mouth is constantly quirking up at the corners, but she's ruthlessly quelling the laughter I'm sure.
"You can laugh." In response I'm greeted with high-pitched giggles and snorts.
"By Elune that's something I could write home to Darnassus about. Draenor has so many interesting inhabitants." She gasps out through the giggles.
"Indeed it does. What's your name?" I patiently wait for her to quell the giggle fit.
"Karia, Commander."
"Would you like to go home, Karia?" Her eyes widen, and she looks excited for a moment before her ears droop and the excitement is replaced with a crestfallen expression.
"Well... yes. Are you saying you wish for me to leave, ma'am?"
"Go to your recruiter and tell her that the Commander asks that you get two weeks paid leave in Azeroth or wherever you choose to go. Then you come back here. I will make sure you also get a bonus so you don't have to worry about not having the gold."
Karia's face lights up to be almost as bright as her already glowing eyes.
"Really?! But I didn't do anything!"
"Doesn't matter. Take the leave if you want now, or save it for later. I want the people guarding my home and my life to be happy." She nods excitedly and bounds away, a spring in her step.
I turn back towards Loki, who's splayed out on his back, eyes closed. I nudge him with my foot.
"You, get up. Bathtime."
"Can I have a rubber duck?"
"Maybe for your next bath." I grin.
"Okay. Wait. Next bath?! I am not suffering through this indecency more than once! How dare you."
"Too late, you already agreed. Get up." He lets out a long feline sigh and rolls back up onto his feet.
I sigh, unbuckle my breastplate and let it slide to the ground.
"So you are getting in with me?"
"No, but you said you'd splash me, and I don't want to pay for repairs because you decided to rust my chainmail."
"Point made."
"Just get in the water."
"But it's cooooooooooold!"
"Yeah, and it's going to stay cold you big baby. Get in."
"Fine." He pouts at me and slowly eases into the water, making high-pitched, displeased meows the entire time.
I kick off my greaves and slide the rest of my chainmail and leather armor pieces off until I'm left in leggings and an undershirt. I arrange my armor on the ground as neatly as I can, and then I sit next to the water, where I am immediately splashed in the face by an angry leopard.
"Do you really want to start this war? Because I will finish it."
"Bring it."
"You're going to smell like Strawberry Kiss for weeks. I'll make sure of it." I grin, baring my canines at Loki's growl.
I uncork the bottle of soap and lather it up between my hands.
"C'mere. I have to scrub you with my nails." I hold up my hands. My nails are filed to blunted points. Handy—haha—in a fight if I don't have my gun immediately.
Loki paddles to the edge with a growl and holds still, tensely waiting. Until I actually start, that is. Then he immediately relaxes and lets out a pleased mew. I scratch slowly and carefully, picking pieces of sludge out of his fur as I go.
"You can keep doing that for... ever, I think. I don't even care if I get a duck."
"Even if you smell like Strawberry Kiss?"
"Well, it doesn't quite fit my manly and fearsome exterior, but you gotta admit it's nice."
Loki lets silence fall (well mostly—he purrs) and I continue carefully scratching and picking sludge out of his fur, occasionally cupping water in my hands and sluicing it over his face to loosen the fel sticking in his whiskers. After what seems like an hour of quietly scratching and pouring, I speak up.
"All done, I think." Loki's eyes open and he nuzzles my hands. It's times like these I remember that even if he's a thorn in my side, I love him. I'm his cub and he's mine.
"Don't go and get sappy on me." Loki orders me.
"How did you know?"
"I can read your face, you idiot."
"How nice of you to inform me. Jackass."
"No no, my name is Loki. Say it with me. Low-key."
"You are anything but low-key."
"I can totally be low-key!"
"I know you're Loki." I grin at the growl he lets out.
"Fine, be that way."
Before I can react, he leaps out of the water behind me, shoves me into the pond and rejoins me, dunking and splashing me. I come back up spluttering.
"Oh my Goddess, you fucking jerk!" I shove him back and clamber back onto land. I push my hair back out of my face and wring it out. I try to act indignant but in hindsight I should have expected this. Unexpected laughter bubbles forth before I think and then I can't stop it.
"What's so funny?" Loki asks me, joining me on land after shaking most of the water off.
"You... you smell so... pretty." I gasp. He growls before giving up the facade and joining me in laughter.