Chapter 3
Disclaimer: As I'm sure you probably already know, I'm not a multi-millionaire that owns Blizzard Entertainment Ltd.
Zekoth shivered in the chilled, frosty air of Winterspring. One more Winterfall Ursa...where were those blasted teddy bears? Aha – he spotted one atop a snow-covered hill. A Chain Lightning ripped through the sky and smashed into the furry foe, which swung round, growling, and started for him.
The Troll was ready though. He unsheathed his two handed sword and with a mighty swing, cut right through the furbolg's body. It fell lifeless to the ground and Zekoth smirked in satisfaction. 1500 was not a bad record for a sword hit.
Suddenly, a night elf ran into his line of sight. The shaman's heart leapt – but it was not Kimona, the one he had befriended. This was a different elf, who shot him a hostile glare before darting away again.
Zekoth sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Ever since that meeting in the Tkashi Ruins, he had been unable to keep Kimona off his mind. Every time a member of the Alliance appeared, he instantly hoped it was her. He knew it was wrong – he was a proud member of the Horde, glory and honor were his only cares.
And yet. The beauty of the elf's stature, her shining, dark eyes and enticing figure, drove him mad. He knew he should not feel this way – perhaps about a Troll female, but night elves were out of the question. They were enemies. He didn't even speak her language!
But somewhere deep, Zekoth had realised long ago what these feelings meant.
Sighing, he whistled and called to him his trusty raptor. The loyal beast carried him back to Everlook, where he spoke with the goblin who had sent him out on this seemingly pointless expedition. The goblin scowled at seeing Zekoth return alive, but grudgingly handed over the promised gold and waved him off.
As the shaman exited the stone building, he noticed an agitated-looking goblin in the corner of the town. The green-skinned person noticed him and hurried over, informing him of the need for a certain Chimaera to be destroyed. Zekoth raised an eyebrow, but nevertheless decided to go and kill it. He needed the money anyway.
After twenty minutes of searching, he found the beast. It was lazily drifting around beside a large hill of ice. He zoned in on it and began to charge another Chain Lightning.
Before the spell was finished, though, a green burst of light shot towards the beast and hit it squarely in the face. It roared and shot after the caster. Zekoth scowled in anger at having been cheated of his kill, and ran to find out who the unknown caster happened to be. If it was a member of the Alliance, he'd rip their Goddamn head off-
As he rounded the corner, the Troll stopped short in surprise. Kimara!
The druid was struggling, her low health decreasing as she attempted to cast a spell of healing. She hadn't noticed Zekoth, her entire attention focused on the chimaera she was fighting.
The shaman took pity on her and cast a heal on her. She looked round, saw him and instantly refocused on the beast. The Troll smiled and began to add his own, considerable, damage to the chimaera. Eventually, it roared in agony and dropped dead to the snowy floor.
Kimara walked over to Zekoth and waved. He grinned back and cheered at her. They had won! She laughed. The shaman gestured at the corpse and gave her a questioning look. She seemed not to fully understand, but shook her head indicating he could take the head of the monster.
Zekoth shook his head. Kimara grinned and sliced the head, tucking it in her pack. Zekoth noticed she was even more beautiful than he remembered, wearing robes of elegant, flowing silver material. Unwittingly, his hand roved to his hair as he automatically tidied it.
The elf stood and made to leave. Then she hesitated, turned back and ran to Zekoth, who was totally unprepared for what happened next. Her long, thin arms wrapped round his neck and he automatically put his round her waist as they hugged.
She felt perfect in his arms. Just the right size. He closed his eyes and squeezed her tight, losing himself in the moment. Then they parted, and she held up her hand. He touched it as he had before, then she waved goodbye and was gone.
The Troll smiled after her already fading tracks. He hoped that was not the last he would see of her. That elf stirred up feelings and aches in parts of his body he never knew could exist. He needed her like air; her intoxicating scent of trees and nature, and her shapely figure and beautiful eyes.
Too late, Zekoth realised the danger. He'd fallen for a member of the Alliance.
