Author's Notes:
Here it is - the next installment! I flatter myself to think that at least a few of you have been waiting for it.
First things first. This chapter is exclusively K'dzok and Nabniath. That means lots of extremely graphic violence, lots of graphic sex, and a lot of disturbing imagery. For those of you with tender sensibilities who do not enjoy K'dzok, you will want to wait until the next chapter when the spotlight hops back to Ambryn and Nathiel.
Ж
Act I Scene XII
Surprising Reversal
K'dzok watched from the rooftop as the cloaked orc made his way through the narrow street, shoulders hunched, moving with a slinking gait, indistinguishable from the usual occupants.
Only, the usual occupants weren't present.
Under threats of knives and worse, they'd left their usual places. Those who hadn't, had added their blood to what was already soaked into the dirt streets. Everyone, everything in this fetid little neck of hovels belonged to K'dzok. The beggars in the mouths of the alleys, the peddlers, even the lone, ugly whore on the corner, all of them were his. This orc, who would have fit in in without a second glance in Orgrimmar or a half a dozen smaller cities and towns, had no way of knowing that. It was why he still moved toward the slapdash excuse for a tavern at the end of the cramped row instead of scuttling back to his master.
Mraugon had arrived yesterday.
K'dzok flipped up his loincloth, mug of ale in his other hand, stepped up to the edge of the rooftop, took aim, and a stream of yellow liquid spattered onto the street below.
The orc rogue let out a curse as he dodged the rain of piss, and looked up. His eyes didn't widen. He was too well trained for that. K'dzok noted this out of the corner of his eye, gaze fixed on the distant hulk of Shattrath City proper, and took a drink from the mug in his hand as he continued to relieve himself from the rooftop onto the street below.
He wasn't really thinking about the spy. He was thinking about all the rogues Mraugon had probably brought with him – likely fighters as well, maybe a few mages. The Steel Sheen would want this done as quietly and efficiently as possible in an urban setting like this one.
K'dzok smiled absently as the orc gave the yellow stream a wide berth on his way to the door, and let out a thunderous belch. He was getting hard just thinking about what was coming. He gave his engorging pale green penis a couple of strokes and a shake and let the rough fabric of his loincloth fall back over it, not making any attempt to hide his growing erection.
He saw Moag shoot his crotch a wary glance, undoubtedly wondering if K'dzok would take the time for one last rough fuck before the battle began. Alfang just kept his head down, eyes fixed on the stein between his thick fingers.
K'dzok's smile widened.
The orc left again a good hour and a half later. K'dzok waited another thirty minutes after that to tell Moag to get ready.
"The minotaur."
Nabniath's voice was sensual.
"Yeah." K'dzok smiled, thinking once more of Mraugon's head, mounted on a polished oak slab, eyes replaced with dull glass, tongue protruding from between his teeth. He glanced down at Nabniath. Her fine white hair was hidden beneath the hood of the black cloak she wore, the lips in her deathly gray face curved in a smile that echoed his own.
She was a strange, and strangely delightful creature. He thought perhaps it sprang out of a sense of kinship, the way she consumed her prey, devoured them utterly, even as he subsumed them, took their flesh for his own use, consumed them in another way before he gave her their broken bodies. She had a cavalier disregard for restraint, self-imposed or otherwise, was utterly free. He admired that about her.
And yet, he had the sense that she was waiting for something, a mannerism in the way she trailed after him expectantly, as though anticipating more than just the bodies of the dead and might-as-well-be-dead alike.
It felt strangely as if she looked up to him, waiting for him to do . . . something. He wasn't sure what. Still, he wasn't nervous. No, he was confident, as a magician who is about to delight a crowd with a marvelous trick. She would see what he had done, and she would delight in it. He could sense it in her, the anticipation, the eagerness for what was coming.
They drifted into the little street out of the flow of working-class laborers, the rat-catchers and sewer-sweeps, the charwomen and ragpickers and beggars on their way to their own hovels in the Lower Quarter that spread out from Shattrath's rotting base.
They congregated there in the mouth of the, narrow, dead-ended street, thickening into a mass of thick-bodied forms shrouded in cloaks.
K'dzok wondered idly if Mraugon had any idea he was walking into an ambush. He had to be expecting one. Did he honestly think K'dzok was just going to sit on his ass, drink ale, and wait for some half-baked grunt to come lop his head off?
Still, even knowing that, the minotaur would show. K'dzok could feel it in his bones. Mraugon would want to bring K'dzok back himself, whether it be half-alive or all dead. His pride wouldn't let him do anything else.
K'dzok smiled faintly and sat back in his chair. Pride was for amateurs. He let his hand drop to the handle of the axe that rested against his chair. It was a wicked thing with a double-bladed head, devilishly sharp, the thick haft of dark, bloodstained oak.
The mass of cloaked figures began to move into the street, leaving behind a thin screen, the rear guard. The scrying spell crackled and spat, began to glimmer with random patterns of light as it was disrupted, and Nabniath let the spell lapse.
K'dzok gripped the axe haft, felt it solid in his hand, and stood, slinging it over his shoulder as he turned to walk out the back door. Twilight was upon them. He turned and stared at the tavern for a long moment, a disproportioned, lumpy hunk of cheap bricks and adobe with a few slightly crooked beams, and his gaze went to Alfang.
The orc nodded back, and tossed a small, black, cylindrical object in through the open door, then turned and jogged toward them. K'dzok smirked as arcane blue light flared through the shutters. It was followed a moment later by a booming, roaring cough as explosives gutted the building, the force of it enough to make the ground shake, smoke and dust mushrooming into the air.
So much for the surprise attack. With any luck those blood elf witch sisters had been in that bunch. There wasn't a chance he'd taken out Mraugon with that little trick, though. K'dzok strolled toward the first fall-back position, and with a groan, the remnants of the single wall that had still been standing tumbled into the debris-choked hole of the tavern's basement behind them.
The fun was just beginning.
Moag jogged ahead, opening the door, and as he passed, K'dzok reached over to give his pale blue butt a fond squeeze and a pat. His thugs sat on the tables and leaned against the walls, all of them regarding him with a wary eye as he made his way upstairs.
He seated himself next to the blocky window and cracked the rickety shutters, hefting the crossbow that had been waiting for him and sighting down the quarrel.
It didn't take them long. Black-cloaked forms trotted into view, the gleam of armor visible where their cloaks parted. This would be the other half of the pincer team. K'dzok watched as their captain made a gesture, indicating they were to start their search with the hovel across the street first, and decided to help them out.
The orc captain flopped forward into the dust, the quarrel nailing the hood of his cloak to his head. His underlings charged the building where K'dzok sat, and he heard the door give way downstairs with a tired groan, followed by the roar of magical flame as it blasted out into the street. K'dzok opened the shutters wider and tilted back in his chair to get a better view down the street.
More black-cloaked figures were on their way, and in their midst, K'dzok spotted three looming above the rest, horns glinting dully. He smiled.
The thugs downstairs spilled out into the street, and crossbows clicked and hummed as they fired. The Steel Sheen mercenaries charged, some of them firing back, and a pair of thunderbolts from orc shamans crackled down the street. K'dzok reloaded his own crossbow and waited.
The mercenaries closed with his thugs, chasing them back inside, and he hefted his own crossbow, the shot going harmlessly high, the bolt head letting out a flare of crimson light. Shutters opened all along the street, and those quarrels all hit their mark, along with knives, a few table legs, and a smattering of javelins.
The Steel Sheen didn't buckle or panic. They were too well-trained for that. After the initial shock they started shooting back, and thunderbolts, fireballs, frost-blasts and more mundane projectiles flew right back as they charged the hovels or in some cases jammed the doors and set fire to them. It was a bloodbath. A broad, fiendish grin spread across K'dzok's face.
An earth elemental rose up from the street, and charged right into one tenement, demolishing it in heartbeats. Smoke and screams rose into the air.
"Is it time?" Nabniath whispered from the stairs, a grin as bright as his own on her gray, colorless face as her red-glowing eyes met his.
"It sure is." K'dzok hefted his axe.
Three unsteady-looking wrecks on the next street over erupted in a hail of cheap clapboard debris as pale blue forms stood up from where they'd been curled, the smell of rotting flesh souring the wind as the last light of the sun sank below the horizon, and animated vrykul corpses joined the fight.
K'dzok wasn't watching the carnage anymore. He was watching the way chill, eldritch light followed Nabniath's motions as she danced, lingering in the air with each pass of her arms and sweep of her legs, the whispered words of her incantations singing off of the bare, dusty walls against the backdrop of screams and cries wafting from the street as her minions woke and smashed their way into the mercenary ranks.
When the wall staved in beneath massive granite fists, he didn't even hesitate, just grabbed her around the waist, a scant breath ahead of the earth elemental's arm as it smashed through what was left of the roof and the floor, and dove out of the window.
They landed ungently on the back of a pair of orcs, and K'dzok grinned as he recognized Khaul's face, fixed in a rictus of death now, never to taste gnoll ribs again. He patted the orc's cooling cheek in thanks, and staggered to his feet, pulling Nabniath up as well.
She was already casting another spell, fingers brushing Khaul's greasy dreadlocks, and the orc got up to begin his short second life, glazed eyes seeking. K'dzok grunted as he was tackled, and Moag's pained gaze met his, quarrels still vibrating where they jutted from his shoulder. K'dzok shoved the pale blue troll aside a little less roughly than he would have otherwise.
His thugs were dwindling rapidly in number now, but more undead orcs, trolls, and a few goblins were rushing to keep the fight going as Nabniath danced over the battlefield, raising more of their number. A single undead vrykul continued to fight, one whole side of it blackened with magical fire that still burned, bare bones visible beneath the stars.
K'dzok turned. The three tauren were surrounded by only a remnant of their guard. He smiled, grip tightening on his axe, and charged.
A shrieking stream of brilliant magical energy flashed around and past him, smashing open a path, and K'dzok followed it in.
Ж
Mraugon had expected K'dzok to be hard to capture, had anticipated weeks, even months of tracking him across the known worlds. He hadn't expected this.
Oh, he'd been certain that the troll would bribe or intimidate allies into his service. He'd have been a fool not to. But a whole street full of thugs that fought and killed at his command – that Mraugon had not anticipated. The battle should have been over in minutes, a quick capture and withdrawal, minimal muss and fuss. Local enforcement had been bribed to look the other way for a little while, but this . . . Mraugon let his gaze sweep over the wreckage of the slum. This was going to be a bit harder to explain, and it was already much more expensive.
Even now, new bodies, or rather, repurposed ones, were joining the fight, and the Steel Sheen mercenaries still on their feet and alive were far fewer than they'd started out.
Mraugon's eyes widened as a blast of raw magical power flared down the street, cutting through his guard. K'dzok was right on its heels, wild red hair like blood.
Oorom and Segat moved to engage him. They'd been briefed. They knew what they were up against. Mraugon signaled to his escort, whipping them into a charge in the other direction.
They had to bring down the witch.
Mraugon would kill her again himself.
Ж
K'dzok wasn't sure where the other tauren and his escort were going. There was no escape in that direction. They were after Nabniath probably. K'dzok wasn't worried. She could handle herself.
It wasn't until the two tauren left behind drew their weapons, a great sword and a pair of axes respectively, that he realized the third must have been Mraugon. The shaman was a lot more calculating than K'dzok would have given him credit for under the circumstances. Take out Nabniath, and he might still win.
K'dzok circled right. If the two of them could, they'd try to get to either side of him, force him to defend against one while the other came at him from the opposite direction. It was a good, solid, standard tactic.
K'dzok feigned a slight stumble. It would have been more believable with some blood on him, but that couldn't be helped. The tauren warriors continued to slowly close, clearly still hoping to pincer him. The one on the right, the one with the greatsword, moved to cut him off.
K'dzok feigned another stumble, grimacing. The tauren fighters stayed conservative, moving slowly with him, in no hurry to close the distance. K'dzok let out a rumbling growl, as though his fear was starting to get the better of him. Let them think he was weak. Let them make a stupid mistake. Pride was for amateurs.
His adversaries were obviously playing a straight game, closing the distance gradually. Damn them for being so justifiably cautious. K'dzok snorted in irritation, feigning another stumble. Neither tauren took the bait.
K'dzok chanced a glance over one shoulder.
Nabniath was nowhere in sight, but Mraugon was shrugging frost off of his cloak, two of his bodyguard frozen solid in blocks of magical ice.
There was motion out of the corner of his eye. K'dzok almost smiled. That would have spoiled things however.
He broke into a shambling, limping run that would take him too close to the tauren with the twin battleaxes, letting out a roar as he did, and spotted a conveniently placed corpse.
His fall was artful, and his shoulder took the brunt of the impact, roll carrying him just out of the way of the battleaxe and he ended on his back, deliberately widening his eyes as though he'd just realized his predicament. The tauren, nostrils flared, eyes alight with victory, raised one hoof, and brought it down with crushing force.
K'dzok caught it, and smiled as the axe that had never left his left hand, the unaugmented but still powerful one, bit mortally deep into the tauren's thigh. K'dzok rolled to his feet, gritted his teeth as that great sword came down, making his whole arm scream with pain with the force of the blow vibrating right to his bones as he met it with his axe.
His other arm pulled. He set his foot as the tauren brought the sword back up for another crushing blow, and ripped off the bull-man's leg he still had in his other hand. Blood sprayed everywhere as the tauren screamed, life gushing out in spurts, and he struck the warrior wielding the great sword across the face with the limb hard enough to knock him off balance.
The tauren staggered, blood spattering his face, trying to blink it out of his eyes as he brought his sword around. K'dzok was faster, and the grisly bludgeon hit his opponent across the face with a solid crunk of breaking bone, the full strength of his augmented arm behind it.
The tauren went down, rolling onto his back, shards of bone protruding from his ruined eye socket. K'dzok grinned viciously, and brought the leg down again.
And again.
And again.
He didn't realize how hard he was breathing, how blazing hot his arm had become, until he stopped, the tauren's bovine face reduced to a smashed ruin. He looked up, blood thundering in his ears, lungs wheezing like a set of blackswith's bellows, and reached out to grab the face of the orc who was charging him.
He smiled as the mercenary squealed, and felt bone give beneath his hand, the heat in his shoulder blazing even hotter.
The unearthly wail that cut across his ears like a saw over bone made him instantly cold, and he whirled as Nabniath shrieked, lightning arcing through her body as she hung in Mraugon's grip, head thrown back, skin blackening and crisping away. He could only stare, frozen, petrified, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Ж
In the first moments of battle, Mraugon thought for sure the witch had him already. His men dropped around him as she danced through their midst like a phantom, appearing in a snap of light just long enough to deal death in a blast of fire or deathly cold or magical energy that ripped their souls right from their flesh, vanishing once more a heartbeat before blades and crossbow quarrels hissed through the air where she'd been.
The dead rose around them, and orcs and trolls screamed and cursed and died. Mraugon blasted the abominations with lightning and fire and frost, a fire elemental raging through the shambling ranks that rose ever unceasing.
He stood back to back with Gridis, the orc cursing and snarling as he fought.
With a wild laugh, the undead witch appeared, leaping toward him, gray hands dancing with deathly power, and Mraugon reached behind him, grabbed Gridis, and flung him right into her arms.
The orc went down, convulsing and shrieking in inhuman agony as her spell crackled over his body. Mraugon grabbed her by her wrists, gritting his teeth as her mad laughter sawed at his ears, and summoned all his power as he lifted her above the street by her slender arms.
Lightning arced through her, and she screamed, mad red eyes turning to brilliant electric blue. Mraugon tightened his grip, and poured it on. She started to smoke, wailing like a demon out of the deepest pits of the underworld. Her skin smoldered, curling and blackening like parchment, muscle and ligament burning away from the charring bone, hair turning to ash. Mraugon redoubled his efforts, feeling his fire elemental collapse behind him as he drew away the power that had sustained it, focusing it all into one last charge.
She had thwarted him once.
She would never do so again.
She flared like a star fallen to earth, blindingly, brilliantly bright, spine giving way with a weak pop, what was left of her lower body falling to pieces in the street.
The light died.
There was no deathly red radiance in her empty sockets any longer, only smoke, rising toward the cold sky.
Mraugon turned, bellowing over the streets, proclaiming his victory in a sonorous call that rang off of the walls and echoed through the streets. The last of his tattered bodyguards straightened, and the thugs around them started to melt away, back into the shadows.
Farther down the street, K'dzok stood, red animal eyes wide, axe hanging in his limp grasp.
Mraugon held the witch's burned corpse high in one hand and let out another bestial roar.
He had a bare moment to be startled as ruby light flared once more in those smoking sockets.
Ж
K'dzok started to run, letting out a roar of his own as he charged, grabbing his axe in both hands, fury pumping through him.
He was far, far too late.
With rattle of bones and a snap of cartilage giving way, Nabniath grabbed Mraugon's face with the smoking, bony claw of her left hand, right arm breaking off at the shoulder, still hanging in his grip as she dove right into his wide open mouth. Mraugon's hand, half-raised to grab her wriggling spine, dropped, his whole body convulsing and jerking with a series of sickening snaps and wet tearing sounds, flesh bulging in places, the sight of it turning even K'dzok's stomach as he watched Nabniath eat the shaman from the inside out.
The tauren toppled forward, pelvis giving way with a sound there were no words for, legs splaying wide, and flesh tore as Nabniath slid out between his thighs, flesh red with blood, whole once more.
K'dzok looked at her as she tottered unsteadily to her feet, feeling something as close to reverent awe as he'd ever gotten, and probably ever would. She smiled at him with bloody teeth, and then reached in between them, and pulled out something meaty and pulpy.
"I saved you the heart," she purred, stepping forward, blood leaching gradually into her skin, the flesh slowly regaining its own deathly pallor.
K'dzok looked down at it as she laid it in his hand, studying it for a long moment.
It was chewy, going slickly down his throat. It really wasn't all that bad.
He smiled, holding the rest up to her lips, and his smile widened as she ate from his hand.
Ж
It wasn't exactly what he'd planned, but in a way, it was even more fitting.
Nabniath smiled brightly at him, Mraugon's long, powerful horns rising to either side of her face, framing her gray features and fine, white hair in perfect symmetry, the shaman's glass-eyed face resting over her breasts. The ochre swirls in his fur gave the cloak an appealing pattern, and it was more than generous enough to pool at her feet, the deep hood resting at her back at the moment.
K'dzok grinned back at her. Very fitting indeed.
He glanced up as Moag entered, giving Nabniath a wide berth. He was a smart one. His shoulder was still bandaged from where he'd taken the crossbow quarrels that would have claimed K'dzok's life. K'dzok's grin turned to a smirk as Moag knelt in front of him. He glanced up, but Nabniath was skipping up the stairs, playing with the wide wings of her Mraugon-fur cloak, giggling to herself.
His gaze dropped back down to Moag as the other troll bent forward, clawed hands unbuckling K'dzok's belt, drawing his loincloth aside. His lips closed gently around the head of K'dzok's engorging cock, pale blue contrasting with light green as he began to suck, and K'dzok spread his legs further to allow him better access, feeling that long tongue glide over his slit, swirling around the mushroom head of his penis. He ran his hand roughly through the coarse blue hair, and Moag pulled off his shaft, running his tongue down the underside of it, tracing the big vein that ran its length, dragging his saliva-slicked lips along each side of it as he continued to suck, bobbing back down, taking K'dzok deeper into his mouth.
K'dzok clasped his hands behind his neck, leaned back, and let him work.
With a glance up at him, Moag brought his hands slowly up K'dzok's tight, powerful thighs, sliding them up to his hips, fingers stroking. He sank lower on K'dzok's cock, and K'dzok felt Moag's throat, tight, and wet and beckoning. He held his hips still, waiting.
Moag didn't disappoint him, opening wide, forcing his own head down on K'dzok's thick penis, taking it into his throat, the swallowing action of his trachea pulsing pleasingly against K'dzok's hard, hot flesh, wet muscle stroking it as he sank lower until his nose was pressed into the thick, dark red hair of K'dzok's crotch. He pulled almost all the way off, and then did it again, deep-throating K'dzok's cock, motions becoming more urgent, as though he was actually getting off on what he was doing.
All at once, he pulled off, breathing hard, a line of saliva and precum connecting his lips to K'dzok's cock. He lifted it gently, even tenderly with his fingers, sliding his tongue once more along the bottom, down to K'dzok's big hairy balls. He lapped at the sack, letting out a slight moan, and sucked one egg-sized ball into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue, sucking gently before doing the same with the next one, lapping at the sack once more.
It felt startlingly good, and K'dzok leaned farther back, lifting his legs and putting his feet up on the edge of the bench he was sitting on. Moag's long nose nuzzled past his hairy ballsack, long tongue lapping along his taint. K'dzok froze as that tongue touched the edge of his asshole, the feel of hot breath blasting over the sensitive hairs in his crack startlingly electric.
He wanted Moag to stop.
He wanted Moag to keep going.
It was almost a relief when the other troll licked and sucked his way back up to K'dzok's cock, licking around the base, blowing hot air into his pubes, lips closing and sucking, sliding back up to the head.
It was almost a relief, except that even as Moag went down on him again, K'dzok could still feel that tingle over his asshole, that little area impossibly sensitized. He let out a growl that was half-frustration, half-lust, and started meeting Moag's bobs with thrusts of his hips, letting one leg slip back to the floor, Moag's hand closing gently around the back of the other thigh, thumb tenderly stroking the inside.
K'dzok let his head fall back, breathing hard now, eyes sliding shut. He felt Moag's other hand slide up his abdomen, thumb sweeping over the hairs of his crotch, skin sliding over his taut, muscular belly, callused palm rough as it traveled up his hairy chest, and it was a groan that came out this time as a pair of fingers closed lightly around one of his nipples, squeezing. He laid his own hand atop it, keeping it there over his heart. The fingers of the opposite hand sifted through pale blue hair.
K'dzok came hard, his whole body shuddering with his climax, shaft pulsing with the semen that blasted down Moag's warm, wet, welcoming throat. And yet, even as he came, he was all too aware of what clenched and relaxed between his legs with the shuddering aftermath. He was aware of Moag pulling off him, licking his softening cock, nuzzling his balls, licking them once more. He wanted Moag to do it again, wanted to feel that hot breath on his sphincter, that wet, warm tongue, flicking and gentle.
Moag released his balls, and K'dzok opened his eyes as the pale blue troll climbed slowly up over him, taking K'dzok's hand in one of his own, bringing it to his ass, dragging the fingertips over his own asshole. Moag was breathing hard as well, eyes wide. He flung his head back, throat working as he let out a soundless exhalation at the feel of K'dzok's finger gliding into him.
He was wet back there, K'dzok realized with a start, slick and oily. He'd been prepared for this. He looked up into Moag's face, studying the way the muscles on his face shifted, not in agony, but the complete opposite as he straddled K'dzok's hips. He reached back, one hand urging K'dzok on, the other gently stroking his cock, engorging once more with blood.
He leaned forward, pressing his lips to K'dzok's, mouth opening and working. K'dzok couldn't resist, he opened his mouth, slid his tongue into Moag's mouth, exploring, what felt like nothing so much as a heavy current of electricity flowing between their lips, intoxicatingly powerful.
He bared his teeth as Moag broke the kiss, on the verge of a snarl, except that Moag's tender mouth and clever tongue were doing incredibly distracting things to his ear. In the midst of his own pleasure, pleasuring his mate back suddenly seemed like the most natural thing in the world, and he stroked Moag's slot, adding another finger, driving inward until he found that little spongy sweet spot his cock so often rubbed against. He was rewarded with a wanton gasp that was just on the edge of a whimper, and he quickened his pace.
"Please," Moag begged. "Please, my lord. Give it to me."
K'dzok's penis was rock-hard between one heartbeat and the next, the pleading words begging him to take what he wanted turning him on more than he could ever recall in his life. He withdrew his fingers, prepared to thrust upward, ready to fuck Moag senseless, but Moag's fingers were already closing around his cock, and K'dzok hesitated as he felt the lips of Moag's sphincter come to rest on his cock. It was pleasurably painful, waiting as Moag slowly pressed down onto the head of his penis, pale blue lips parted as he gasped for breath. It was strange to see him take such pleasure in the act, to revel in the way he was about to be put to use, even striking in a way.
K'dzok held himself still, waiting for the moment when Moag's pleasure would evaporate, wanting to see the transition, but Moag's pleasure only seemed to deepen the more he took K'dzok into him, until his buttocks rested on K'dzok's flesh. He rose up slightly, came back down, let out another gasp, and began to flex his hips, belly tightening as he flexed his knees, sliding up and down on K'dzok's thick girth. Abruptly he leaned forward again, still bobbing on K'dzok's shaft, and kissed him again. The force of it was even more powerful this time, snapping through him like a stroke of lightning, and he felt something give way. He began to thrust, hips slamming upward, hands closing like clamps on Moag's hips, driving toward Moag's joy nut, prodding it from every angle. Moag cried out again and again, wordless exclamations of pleasure, arching back as he rode K'dzok.
K'dzok couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted, and he didn't want to. Something was happening to him, something he couldn't explain, but didn't question. He was a creature of passion, always had been, and he gave himself over to the thing that welled up within him without hesitation, sitting up and grabbing Moag's hair, pressing the other troll's mouth to his own, ignoring the way their tusks scraped each others' faces, thrusting harder and faster, Moag's arms wrapping around him.
He felt Moag come, jizz spattering onto the hairs of his hard belly, thrust into the contracting, throbbing heat that constricted around his shaft, three strokes, four, and then he came himself on the next stroke, his seed blasting deep into Moag's body, heart thundering, breath rasping in his chest.
He wrapped an arm around Moag's back, and leaned forward, getting down on one knee, laying the blue-skinned troll out beneath him, and then laying on on top of him. He licked Moag's lips, feeling that current between them once more as he kissed him.
Moag looked perfectly and utterly satisfied, smelled of satisfaction even, meeting K'dzok's kisses with a relaxed languor that spoke of satiation. He kissed K'dzok's neck, licked it.
"You're fucking magnificent, my lord," he said in a half-growled whisper.
"Yeah, I know," K'dzok murmured back, eyes sliding half-shut. He felt sated but for the memory of hot breath along his ass-crack, a wet tongue just touching the edge. It was almost as much a physical ache as a mental one. Suddenly, he wanted it, wanted Moag to go further.
He got up, straddling Moag's face, and got down on his knees, lowering his ass over Moag's mouth.
Moag, clever troll that he was, didn't say a word, didn't do anything to interrupt. He just grabbed hold of K'dzok's ass cheeks, spread them apart, and his long tongue licked around the rim of K'dzok's hole.
K'dzok gasped, lips pulling back from his teeth in a soundless snarl, and pushed himself down further. Moag's tongue dragged long and hard across his entrance, lapping again, beginning to thrust with increasing force.
K'dzok let out a slight sigh, and opened, rewarded a heartbeat later as that warm, wet muscle pressed into him, entering him, making his need more bearable even as it inflamed it further, shoving into him, soft and yet with just enough of a bumpy texture that he could feel it as it swept over his sensitive inner flesh. He groaned again, because he knew instinctively what was coming next. He knew what he needed now, knew that it would torment him until he was satisfied, sated, complete.
Just like Moag.
He rolled over onto his back, pulling Moag with him, and to his surprise, Moag didn't immediately position himself, but kissed the lips he'd been licking at just a moment before, and then rose up over K'dzok, kissing his mouth as well. He took one of K'dzok's hands in his own, sucked the middle finger deep into his mouth, held it there for a moment, and then guided it down to K'dzok's sphincter, rubbing the pad around his hole, massaging it, pausing after a few strokes to wet it again, then got down, and a slick stream of saliva dripped from between his lips.
K'dzok felt it dribble over his slot, let Moag work his hand, using his own digit to massage it in. It wasn't what he'd have done. He'd have been hip deep in Moag already, spunk squelching in his male snatch.
He let his head fall back as Moag began to press inward, and his eyes widened as not one finger, but two, his and one of Moag's delved inward, Moag guiding his finger unerringly to-
K'dzok let out a noise that was halfway between a deep growl and what could almost have been a purr.
"Stroke that for just a little while," Moag whispered. "I'll be back in a moment."
K'dzok didn't even think about how it would look if any of his other underlings came up and found him fingering his own hole like a slut, just stroked and gasped. It seemed like mere heartbeats until Moag returned, pulling K'dzok's finger out of his slot, licking it once more with his tongue. He took a deep drink from the stein in one hand, swirled it around in his mouth, and lowered his head once more between K'dzok's wantonly spread legs.
K'dzok opened and felt warm ale flood down into him. Moag's finger followed a moment after, working it in, massaging, and the wet, slick sensation felt good, the finger that glided over that button of flesh that made pleasure vibrate along his nerves gently firm.
He did it again and again, until it was spilling out of K'dzok's hole, trickling over his ass, working in two fingers, massaging, stroking, caressing, always rubbing up against that pleasure center deep in his body. K'dzok could feel it strengthening in him, the need for a completion he'd never before sought, never wanted until now.
Moag added a third finger, and K'dzok lay back, panting, whole body become a blissful ache centered around his asshole, feeling it stretch wider and wider.
He couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Moag by the back of his neck, dragged the other troll's face up to his, smashing his mouth into Moag's in a brutal kiss.
"Do it!" he snarled.
Moag kissed him back, drawing his tongue into his mouth, and K'dzok felt the other's troll's cock come to rest against his loosened entrance. He opened wide.
Pressure built, and K'dzok wanted to punch Moag, wanted to break his face, because he was going so achingly slow. It built, just to the edge of pain, but Moag had done his job well, and his corona slid in, the fit tight but not more than mildly uncomfortable, and he continued to ply K'dzok's tongue with his own, distracting him.
It seemed like forever until the other troll's shaft rubbed against his joy button, gliding past it, and K'dzok melted in Moag's arms, not caring now how much noise he made as he accepted that thick, rigid shaft into his body.
Moag drove slowly in, and pulled just as agonizingly slowly out. "Harder!" K'dzok growled, tightening his grip on Moag's neck. "Faster!"
Moag complied, picking up the pace, and K'dzok groaned and cursed and panted as he was fucked. Moag was thorough, pulling almost all the way out, driving all the way back in to the hilt, withdrawing only to slide inward again.
It was unlike anything K'dzok had ever experienced, mind-blowing pleasure shredding his consciousness, swallowing him in electrical heat that made every nerve ending in his body shriek in ecstatic pleasure. All he knew was the throbbing rush of the hot, hard flesh moving inside him, the hands that gripped behind his knees, the wild, inescapable flush of sizzling energy that coursed through him.
He came, and every heartbeat was like an earthquake, shaking him until he thought he'd vibrate apart, slamming into him like a flurry of thunderbolts.
He lay, spent and gasping in Moag's embrace, dimly aware of the fresh wash of warm fluid inside his body.
Ж
"We could stay," Nabniath said playfully, running one cold finger down K'dzok's right arm, smiling up at him. "The food's good, and the sex seems to agree with you."
K'dzok didn't shy away from her touch. The cold felt good on his flesh. He stood, staring out toward where the first sliver of the rising sun was glowing over the rooftops, painting them blood-red.
He was tempted. He was sorely tempted. He wanted to ram his cock into Moag's body all over again, have Moag's cock slamming into his own hole, until they were both covered in sweat and spunk again.
But even more than that, he wanted to find Undoon. He wanted to choke the shit out of the orc warlock and make him scream for mercy. He wanted to beat him to death with his bare fists. It wasn't a desire for vengeance. It was a desire to see the master of the Steel Sheen, a powerful creature in his own right, left dead in a gutter like a back-alley orc stripling.
He wanted to track down Heironymous, rip off his lower jaw, and listen to him gurgle and struggle to scream while he fucked what was left of the human mage's face before he raped his ass with his own blood as lube.
When it came down to it, K'dzok was a troll with very basic desires.
"No," he said after a moment. "But we'll come back."
Nabniath laughed wildly and spun away from him. He didn't turn to watch her go, though a smile curved his own lips. Her thoughts were a reflection of his own. They'd come back, and Shattrath would make a splendid hunting ground for both of them alike.
"What was it like?" he asked suddenly, not even sure of why he was curious. "When Mraugon sent all that lightning through you. Did you . . . die?"
Nabniath paused, and for the first time that he could recall, the whimsical smile faded from her features. For a moment, she looked almost human.
"My heart . . . beat," she said after a long moment. "It was terrifying. Because . . . I didn't die. For a moment . . I lived." She turned away, slipping down the stairs, wrapping her tauren-fur cloak close around herself, as though in the hot, fetid air, she actually felt cold.
K'dzok let her go, and stared out over the rooftops, but he was thinking of a pair of jade eyes and a lovely, pale face beneath curls the color of thick honey, and wondering if he might not just run into him again when he returned to Azeroth. His smile turned dark and savage at the thought, and he licked his lips.
"It's too bad Mraugon wasn't more subtle. Here you are, all alone, your pet witch gone, just the two of us."
K'dzok stiffened at the words, delivered in girlish tones ringing with amusement and mock-ruefulness. He turned, catching sight of a familiar blood elf female, her glimmering, luminous green eyes laughing at him, hands on her slim waist. Then, as now, her golden skirt was slit up to the knee, long black leather boots clinging to her slim legs, her rose-colored blouse with its fur lining hugging her shoulders, leaving their tops bare. Her blond hair was a soft, pale gold cascade over her shoulder, trailing down to her bosom.
She smiled. "Undoon said we had to make sure you were captured. He didn't say we had to play war with your little crop of thugs like the rest of them." She cocked her head. "You made such a lovely rabbit." She giggled.
He rushed her, moving fast, right hand reaching out.
No strange tingling feeling overtook him this time, no twist that spoke of his very bones being shifted.
Her green eyes widened as his hand closed around her face. Her small, slender skull gave with a wet, meaty crunch, blood gushing between his fingers.
For a moment K'dzok held the ruin of her head in his hand, trying to understand what had changed, and then let her corpse drop to the filthy brick of the rooftop, glancing around. He spotted her twin a rooftop away just before she toppled off the edge of it, a blood-slicked arrow-head protruding from between her teeth, the fel light in her eyes dying as she tumbled toward the street below. The blood elf who'd been standing behind her lowered his bow.
With a start, K'dzok recognized Loiath. He smirked after a moment.
Ж
"The bastards killed Hiath, then," Loiath said quietly, hand tightening around his ale mug.
"Yeah." K'dzok studied the blood elf. He looked relatively hale for having been beaten and abandoned to the tender mercies of Northrend by his superiors in the Steel Sheen.
"The main body of the guild is on the way to Warsong Camp in Ashenvale." Loiath cocked his head slightly to one side. "Well, what's left of the camp anyway. Not much at this point from what I understand." He leaned forward. "They say Undoon himself is there."
K'dzok's eyebrows rose at that, and he leaned back, a smile crossing his lips. "That so?"
Ж
Author's Post-Script Notes:
I leave you with my customary request for constructive criticism and ideas where I can improve my writing. Help me be a better writer, and I'll give you better stuff to read.
Also, once again, thanks goes to you wonderful folks who were good enough to leave me reviews thus far!