Part 2

Nerissa first noticed, as she slogged her mental way towards wakefulness, that her head was aching abominably. Then she noticed the heat of a fire, and was comforted. Until, that is, she opened her eyes. The figure of a female troll danced eerily before the fire, undulating and gyrating smoothly between her and the flames that obscured her ability to see clearly.

Suddenly, a face from beyond the grave (literally) appeared in front of her, so close that she could see that the strange lights burning within the otherwise empty sockets weren't attached to anything. She'd seen the undead before, of course, but she'd never actually come so close to one—nor had she ever desired to.

The voice of the freakish being before her groaned out, "She's awake, Nantu." Nerissa shrieked, screaming and wriggling against the ropes that bound her.

Her mind numbed in a fog of terror, she tried desperately to remember the name of the orc that was supposed to be escorting her. Finally, giving up, she started shrieking, "Orc! Orc! Where are you? Help!" Unbeknownst to her, Ferruk had to move away from the camp at this point, unable to control his laughter.

The troll stopped dancing for a moment and cocked her head to the side when Nerissa finally stopped shrieking. "I almos' done prayin' ta da spirits. When I's done, den we's cooks her. Ya wants yers raw, you said, eh?"

The undead man squatted in front of her, and began to look her over from far too close a proximity. He moved sinuously, seeming to almost sniff up and down her body. When he spoke again, his voice called to mind the coldness of a mausoleum, it even seemed dry, dusty, and dark. "Bit on the scrawny side. I think her thigh's've got the best meat on them. Though, maybe a little rump roast would do nicely," he said, and laughed, a sound like groaning timbers on an ancient boat.

"No rump for you until I'm done with it," said a voice to her left, and a massive tauren bull stepped into her view. He clomped towards her, and she realized she'd never seen one of them up close, either. Slowly, he lifted his shoulders and flexed them, this his massive head swung back and forth. He chuckled, a deep, rumbling 'heh heh heh' rolling out of his chest. "I like it doggie style," the big beast said, then laughed again and elbowed the troll woman. "Get it, cow, doggie style." He laughed again, another deep 'heh heh heh' rolling out of his chest.

When he stumped towards her, she started shrieking again. She'd never been so terrified in her entire life. In fact, in the face of the feeling that had overcome her, she thought that perhaps she'd never actually been terrified before at all.

"OOOORC!" She was now screaming at the top of her lungs, yanking and jerking on the ropes that bound her. She was crying, shrieking for help, calling for the orc that had abandoned her, riding off while she struggled along behind.

Her screaming was cut short by the sudden appearance of his face. He popped around the side of the tree, "You called? You were, I assume, calling for me? I can't be sure, as I never heard my name spoken even once." He laid down on the grass on his side, propping his head up on his hand.

"What are you doing? Cut me loose! Help me!" she couldn't believe her eyes. Was the man insane? Was he going to help her?

"Well," he drawled, "I might. I thought about it, really." He patted her on the leg then before pointing towards the bull tauren, "But actually, these folks are willing to pay more than your father. And since I'm stupid, and ugly, and terrible… I figured I'd just sell you to them.

"Of course, there is a way you could convince me to change my mind," he continued, and rolled onto his back, looking up at the night sky. "Oh, and before you offer sexual favors, you should know that I don't really think I could stomach that much proximity with you, you're a bitch."

She gasped, unable to fathom for a moment how this arrogant, ugly creature would dare to think that she would offer anyone sexual favors in order to buy anything from them.

"I'll take some sexual favors. I'm hung like a bull, too, it'll be real fun for you," the tauren said, and then rolled out that deep laugh again.

To her chagrin, the orc obviously had to fight to keep from laughing as well.

"What do you want before you'll save me?" she asked with mock sweetness. Oh, she hated that man so much!

Ferruk looked up at her, "Oh, I'm not sure you can manage what I will require before I save you from these terrible folk," he said smugly, and the others laughed.

"What? What do you want, you asshole?" she snapped, losing her patience and trying to fight the growing fear gnawing in her belly. How could her father have gotten her into this terrible situation? He'd put her in the care of someone who had sold her as food at the earliest opportunity!

"You're going to have to ask me nicely. And apologize. Yes, definitely apologize. Oh, and use my name when you ask. It's Ferruk."

She scowled at him, and he stared impassively back at her. Finally, grinding it out between her teeth, "Please untie me and get me out of here, Ferruk," she said. "I'm sorry."

He tapped a finger thoughtfully against his chin. The undead man, now on the other side of her and squatting there, apparently trying to reattach a finger, said, "That didn't sound very sincere to me."

"Nope," Ferruk said, "definitely didn't sound sincere. And you pronounced my name wrong. Try again."

She tried again, this time making sure that her voice dripped with sweetness.

"Oh, sarcasm, I like it," the tauren said.

She felt tears welling up in her again. It was clear that they were just playing with her now, and the troll's words confirmed it for her, "Kin I jes eats 'er now? I's hongry."

"Ah, well, she doesn't seem to care much about her own life, so I guess you just as well," Ferruk said, and got up, dusting his armor off.

"Wait!" she shrieked, suddenly filled with desperation. "Please, don't! Help me, Ferruk, please! I'll do anything you ask!" She felt tears and humiliation run through her. She realized how utterly terrified she was when she lost control of herself as the troll started to walk towards her. "No! I want to live!" she screamed.

"Ewww," Ferruk, the tauren, and the troll said at the same time. The troll backed away, and the tauren turned away. Ferruk sighed and knelt beside her.

"What?" asked the undead man.

"Never mind," Ferruk said to him. "I didn't intend it to be that frightening, I suppose we should have ended it sooner. I didn't realize she'd been quite that sheltered."

"What?" Nerissa asked. "Are you trying to say that you and these people did this to me on purpose?" She felt hysteria, shame, and a rising tide of anger flow through her.

"Of course I did it to you on purpose. You don't recognize or understand the danger you're in," he snapped at her, and she felt herself shrinking back against the tree.

"You tell me that you have combat experience, but this shows me more clearly than any words that you have never once, in your entire life, really had to face actual combat in which your life was at stake. As embarrassed as you must feel, this was important to get you to understand the reality you are facing right now.

"Shortly after we left Fairbreeze, there was an attempt on your father's life. He contacted me to inform me of it, and to warn me to get companions to aid in protecting you. He barely escaped with his life.

"You're so busy being the big boss that you refuse to cooperate with me at all. You, me, these people here… we have to be a team. If we're not, we'll all die, every one of us. And frankly, with the way you treat people, the way you treat your maid, even the way you treat your animal, you're not worth dying for.

"So you're going to learn fear, and you're going to learn cooperation. If you don't, we're not going to keep trying to save you. And then, I promise you, whoever wants you dead, will succeed. We're all that stands between you and death."

Her head was reeling. She couldn't really grasp what he was saying to her. He was… livid. His face was enraged and he was snarling at her. She cowered against the tree, and felt a new sense of shame wash over her. He was right, she hadn't been cooperative in the slightest, and she hadn't really understood what was at stake.

Now that she did, she resolved to try to cooperate better. She didn't want to die, and she didn't want that troll to eat her.

Ferruk actually felt bad about the whole thing. He had hoped to scare the piss out of her, but not quite as literally as that. He was surprised that she was taking it so well, but he was also angry. In a vague way, he felt cuckolded. She claimed combat experience, and she probably did have a lot of it. But always in a group and always in safe situations, he was certain.

In fact, if he had to take a guess, she'd never actually killed anything alone or been sent on a dangerous mission without people many times more powerful than she there to protect her. So for all that she might have nothing more to learn from a trainer, she had a hell of a lot to learn about reality and the world beyond the walls of a pampered princess.

He helped her up, and picked up her gear. Leading her over to the river nearby where they had stopped, he told her that she could feel free to bathe there. He told her that she should put her gear on, and started to turn away. To his surprise, she simply started stripping without waiting for him to leave. As her dress dropped to her feet, she stood now in front of him in only underclothing.

Then, entirely ignoring him, she slid the panties down off of her hips. He recognized that he should tell her off. Had she learned nothing? On the other hand, he was intrigued. Either she laid out nude in the sunshine, or that was her natural skin color. The small corset she used to control her breasts dropped onto the pile, and he watched as the curve of one breast bounced as she released them from their confinement.

"Well?" she said.

He crossed his arms. "Well what?"

She looked at him and frowned. "Orcs don't bathe?"

"Oh, we bathe alright, but not with naked women that we don't intend to fuck," he said crudely.

"Ah. We have bath houses," she said. "We don't worry too much about nakedness."

"If we had co-ed bath houses, none of us would ever leave the bath house," he said.

He tortured himself a moment longer by watching her walk into the river. The moons shimmered off of it, leaving a bright trail of sparkles across the black waters. Although the darkness would have obscured her from someone with lesser vision, his keen night vision could see her very well as the water rippled and surged around her legs.

He watched her a moment longer, thinking to himself how upside down the world was. Unfortunate that her personality was nowhere near as attractive as her body. Turning away, he went and sat down on a rock nearby, listening to her splashing in the water, and listening to the tinkling of the water falling over the rock outcropping he was sitting on.

Soon, Whitecrow approached and sat down beside him, carefully averting his eyes from the naked woman in the water. "So what's this all about? You could explain a little better, if you please." So Ferruk did. He told the full story, including his very negative sense of the mother, Chalisse and his belief that she was the most likely source of the danger.

Whitecrow frowned and began to run his hand up and down his muzzle, an unconscious gesture that told Ferruk he was pondering the information he'd just been given. Most people underestimated Whitecrow, his broad black face disarming them to leave them thinking he was simple minded.

The truth of the matter was, though, his mind was incisive, and he knew more about the various cultures of Azeroth and even beyond, than anyone else Ferruk knew. That was part of what made him invaluable in this particular case. Ferruk needed solid advice, and Whitecrow was the place to get it.

While Whitecrow pondered, Ferruk glanced over to make sure that Nerissa was okay. She was now standing beside her clothes, apparently at a complete loss. Ferruk told Whitecrow that he'd be right back, and went to see what it was that was causing her such visible discomfiture.

She whirled as he approached, and he threw his hands up. "Just making sure everything's alright," he said.

She calmed, then said, "I've no clean underwear," her voice was low and embarrassed.

"You'll have to wash those, then. Wear the cloak in your bags while they dry off at the fire," he turned to go back to his consultation with Whitecrow.

"Ferruk?"

He turned back to her. "Yes?"

"Am I safe with them?" she sounded scared.

"Yes," he said, almost laughing at the absurdity of the reality of the situation. "Nantu is a vegetarian, Whitecrow is celibate, and Malovici has no appetite for anything living."

"Oh," she said. Then quietly, as if it were new to her, "Thanks for telling me."

He left her there and returned to Whitecrow. The big tauren looked at him and said, "You forgot the real danger to her in this group."

Ferruk's eyebrows climbed in question.

Whitecrow said, "You are neither vegetarian, nor celibate. And you have quite an appetite."

Ferruk shrugged it off. "I like my women sweet, W.C." It was the nickname he used for Whitecrow.

Whitecrow looked at him quietly for a bit, then moved off of the conversation. "I think you're right. In the higher levels of elven society, there are definite tendencies to try to kill off the heirs of unwanted husbands. I don't know what the situation is, but there are many scenarios in which the girl's mother would be trying to kill her. Their society is very complex in the small details. Heredity and inheritance, diplomacy and politics, all are tied up and bogged down with endless niceties and specifics.

"But on a grander scale, they're reasonably predictable. It's everyone for themselves, and any small gain in power is worth a huge risk. Killing your spouse and/or your child is a pretty small risk as their society goes, unless they get caught trying to kill a female heir. In which case, they can be exiled or killed.

"Whatever the woman has planned, she's not going to stop until that girl's dead. And it's highly unlikely that she even realizes where the danger is coming from, if she's as sheltered as she seems to be." He got up and left then, leaving Ferruk to sit and wonder at the absurdity of it all. The idea of killing one's own spouse and child simply out of greed was absolutely beyond thinkable to him. It seemed like the pinnacle of debauchery and evil to him.

He looked over to the fire where Nerissa was now sitting nervously with the others, not speaking, just staring into the fire. He felt a momentary sense of pity for her, a feeling he could ill afford.

Disgruntled, he clomped to the fire and settled down to rest, ignoring armor and everything, simply laying his head back on his arms and dropping into fitful sleep.

Nerissa was scared. She was also dreadfully uncomfortable. She didn't know what she was supposed to be doing now, where or how she was to sleep. Normally, someone would have prepared a spot for her in a comfortable place. But who was she to ask for help here?

She waited for what seemed like hours until the troll and the tauren went to sleep. The undead man, in his sinuous, shuffling way, snaked off into the darkness, she assumed to stand guard.

Slowly, she made her way as quietly as she could over to Ferruk. Pushing him slightly, she woke him up. He started and looked at her with narrowed eyes. "What?"

"What am I supposed to do?" she whispered.

Also whispering, he responded, "Do?"

"Yes, where am I supposed to sleep?"

He blinked at her for several long seconds. "Are you serious?"

She sat up a bit straighter, "Yes. Where am I supposed to sleep?" Did he not understand the question? It seemed simple enough.

"On the ground, like everyone else," he said.

"But I have no mat, no pillow," she told him.

"Well, neither have I," he hissed back at her.

She felt like crying. But she'd taken enough for today, and she got up and walked away from him. She was really supposed to sleep on the cold, bare ground? How could anyone sleep like that? Her back ached already from trying it earlier, her hips, butt, and inner thighs were terribly sore from riding, and in general… she was miserable.

She went back to the spot she'd been sitting for the last few hours while everyone went to sleep, curled up, and lost the battle to keep the tears at bay. But this time, she managed to cry quietly, muffling her sobs and sniffles with the cloak she was wearing.

Quite unexpectedly, she felt herself picked up. She gasped, then realized it was Ferruk. He was scowling, but didn't look at her. He carried her over to the bedroll he'd abandoned and carefully laid her on it. When he started covering her, she felt guilty and ashamed for taking his bed, still warm from his body.

Whispering again, she said, "You could sleep with me." She was exhausted, and realized she probably sounded stupid, but she said it anyway. She really did intend to try to be part of the team.

"That," he said, stressing the word, "would be a very bad idea right now." His voice was deeper than she remembered in her sleep-befuddled mind. "A word to the wise, Nerissa. Inviting a man to share your bed has a very limited application. I suggest you not do so unless you're prepared to make good on the implicit promise in it."

She heard him walk away, and tried to stay awake to sort out what he'd said, but she was simply too tired.

The next morning, having an attack of unaccustomed kindness, and a certain discomfort with the thought of facing her, Ferruk let Nerissa sleep in. They would get moving soon, but she was going to be sore when they did. Besides, he was uncomfortable with her ignorant invitation the night before.

"So I heard her ask you to sleep with her," Malovici said to Ferruk with a glance at her slowly rousing form. "If my parts worked like that these days, I'd take her up on it. But alas, my dick keeps falling off. If she's that hard up for it, though, I suppose I could let her borrow it."

A startled gasp from her general vicinity made the two men share a moment of masculine amusement, Malovici's ghastly face reflecting his amusement in the most subtle of ways, while Ferruk openly laughed. Ferruk told him, "Somehow, Mal, I don't think she's going to take you up on your very generous offer."

When she began to climb out of her bags, Malovici skittered off towards the river, waving an airy good-morning to her. Moments later, he was back, a fish clutched in his hand. Squatting down, he sliced its head off while it was still wriggling. Working swiftly, he started to fillet it. A moment later, he loped towards the fire, passing Whitecrow in the process.

On the way past, a chunk of soft, white, dead flesh fell to the ground. Whitecrow, never one to waste food, including sushi, picked it up and ate it.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Malovici yelled at him, making everyone look up in startlement.

"What?" asked Whitecrow, his broad face looking especially cowlike in its expression of surprise.

"You ate my dick, you asshole!" Malovici yelled. Nerissa made a gagging sound.

Whitecrow laughed his deep 'heh heh heh' laugh, and then said, "Yer dick tastes like fish, man. I think yer better off without it!"

"You twos stop dat! Jus cause dere's a new girl 'round don't mean ya needs ter be showin' off!" Nantu patted Nerissa (who was looking nearly as white as most of her counterparts at this point), and told her, "Don't pay them no nevermind, dey's tinks dey's funnay wit dat shit."

Sitting down beside Nerissa, Nantu handed her some cornbread, while everyone waited for Malovici's catch to cook. Nerissa ate it with obvious hunger, and Ferruk was grateful to Nantu. She was the motherly type, and he was pleased on both accounts. Now Nerissa had someone to mother her, and Nantu had someone to mother besides him.

The only real problem was, he wasn't sure how having two rather volatile females in the same group was going to turn out. He wondered if Nerissa was aware of the history between her people and Nantu's. If she was, it could lead to conflict. Although, if she wasn't, it could lead to conflict when she found out. He suspected, however, given her response the evening before, that she was definitely aware.

Well, all he could do was keep an eye on the situation and see where it went. Nerissa seemed willing enough to accept food from her, though that might just be due to hunger and not any sense of acceptance of the situation.

The fish was soon finished, and Malovici parceled it out amongst them, not bothering to eat, himself. He didn't require sustenance, and only ate replenishing food when he was injured. Otherwise, he didn't bother with any sort of nourishment that Ferruk was aware of. And he had never inquired any more deeply into it, if there was something else, he was pretty sure he didn't want to know about it.

When they were done eating, they began to pack up. Ferruk looked up just in time to see Nerissa drop her cloak and reach for her clothes. "Whoa, whoa!" he said. Swiftly, he went over and pulled the cloak back up around her shoulders and then around her body. He tried to ignore his response to her naked proximity as he pointed to the woods around them, "Who's watching you from over there?"

She turned to where he was pointing. "I don't know, who?"

"Exactly," he said. "Learn some discretion. Dress and undress discreetly when out in the open."

Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him. "You didn't complain last night," she said challengingly.

"That's right, I didn't," he told her, "I was enjoying ogling you. I enjoyed taking care of myself later, thinking about your naked body under mine, too." He started leering at her, trying to drive his point home. To his surprise, she held her ground.

"You can look, but don't touch," she said pertly. The others snickered, suddenly finding something else to do when Ferruk glared at them.

"You're missing the point," he snapped at her.

She sighed. "No, I'm not. You're right, I'll try to be more discreet." Mollified, Ferruk grunted and finished putting the fire out. By the time he was done with that, she was nearly dressed, her armor gleaming smartly as she finished pulling on bracers, gauntlets, and pauldrons. She stood up and summoned her horse.

He watched as she mounted somewhat slowly, obviously still sore from yesterday's trotting episode. When she was ready, they moved out. He rode beside her for a minute, and when the horse grabbed the bit, he showed her how to seesaw the reins so that she could regain them. The beast snorted and stamped, trying to rear. With a jerk, Ferruk pulled the horse's head tight against his chest. He hopped a few times, crowhopping and trying to unseat his rider.

Catching her cue from him, Nerissa grasped the reins and pulled his head into his chest herself. For upwards of twenty minutes, the group rode along with Nerissa and her horse battling for control. At one point, the beast tried to turn around and head for Fairbreeze. Ferruk told her to pull his head to the left and hold it there, hard. When she did so, her horse churned in a circle for a moment, then stopped, chuffing and panting.

When she released him, he returned to the group at her command. When they set out again, he met the steady loping pace of the group, and gave her no more hassle for the rest of the ride to Silvermoon City. Ferruk was impressed, and gave her a nod of approval. He was somewhat surprised and even slightly taken aback by the immense, delighted smile that crossed her face.

It made him wonder if she'd ever had an accomplishment entirely her own before. Probably not. He squelched his sympathy, though. She was still a spoiled little brat.