Brick And Mortar

Part III

Desires
Lead
Nothing is Ever Simple
A Solemn Task
Little Ghost Town on the Prairie
Urlug
Boulder Lode Mine
Prisoners
Assessment
Ransom
The Black Cauldron
The Only Weapon Left
Revolt
Closure
Rescued

Desires
I hope you guys liked the short story I posted over the weekend. It wasn't WoW-related, so I didn't cross-post it to any community. If you want to catch these, you may want to friend me.

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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Part III
Episode 1: Desires

At this point, you probably think the story is all fun and light; that this is a child's fairytale where everyone is friends and nothing bad could ever happen, right?

I suspect it's going to get darker soon. You just need to survive a tiny bit more friendship and romance first...

I followed Grom'tuk up a stairway in the shade of The Drag, and said farewell outside an oak door.

"I've been conscripted, so I guess I better find the master of arms."

Grom'tuk made a sour face. "Don't do that."

I must have seemed incredulous. I was no coward.

"What do you want, Brick? More than anything else, what is it you want?"

I was not ready for that question. Actually, the entire conversation seemed surprising. I didn't really know how to answer.

I thought about my utankan and how they wanted me to come home. I thought about the guard's necklace that I was keeping in my bedroll, and how her parents might want it back. I thought about Kaja... and suddenly felt uncomfortable speaking to Grom'tuk.

"I... don't have an answer for that... yet," I said.

The big bull crossed his arms and smiled that damned infectious smile of his. "That's okay, Brick. It took me a long time to figure that out, myself.

"I grew up here, in Orgrimmar. Eventually, I realized that what I wanted more than anything else was a family. So, I made these people my family."

Grom'tuk pointed to various passers-by. "Karolek needed zhevra hides, so I went hunting. Dran needed relics lost when a freighter sunk, so I learned to dive. Kaja needed a shop, so I helped her build one.

"Everyone needs something; so I have served the Horde by serving its people.

"The rank and file," he snorted angrily, "that's a good fit for the rogue that follows you around." He pointed down and across The Drag at Johnny. I had lost track of him myself, but Grom'tuk missed nothing.

"They wait here, month after month, year after year, until Nazgrel orders an assault on this stronghold or that. Then he throws them into the meat grinder of battle, and they die as anonymously as they lived -- in some foreign land, without even a proper burial.

"Is that the life you want? Your utankan wanted you to serve, and so you must. But how you serve is really up to you."

# # #

I stood outside that closed door for quite some time, feeling like my whole world had been turned on end. I had never even realized that I had any choice in what became of me.

Then I was wandering, aimlessly, for what seemed like hours. When I regained my bearings, I was back in the Valley of Strength, standing outside Boomstick Imports once more.

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Lead
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 2: Lead

The sun had dropped low and the canyon cast deep, cool shadows over the valley. Kaja stood outside her shop, leaning against the stone wall, with a blackroot stem in her mouth.

Blackroot is an intensely bitter herb. The harder you bite into it, the more bitter it tastes. But along with the bitterness, comes a considerable lift. It helps you stay awake and alert, even when your muscles are tired.

I offered her my hand. "My friends call me Brick. We didn't really get to meet when you... and your poalo..."

"...were fighting? Yeah, we do that a lot."

I didn't want to let go of her hand. Her skin was calloused and hard, but her grip strong and warm. She had changed out of her blacksmith apron and into a skirt and blouse. She wore a copper anklet just above one hoof.

Her shirt clung to her curves and opened to a point above her heart. It was laced loosely and untied. The cloth was almost white, but strange. It reminded me a little of a spider's web in how it picked up the color of the short fur behind it.

"It's called lace," she explained. "The Thalassians weave it."

"I've never seen anything like it. It looks lovely... on you."

She smiled for a moment and then crossed her arms over her chest. She looked away.

She had short, stumpy horns that were as dark as coal. Her ears were down, away from the noise of the city. Her face had been washed clean of soot.

"He just really pulls my trigger. Everybody loves Grom'tuk, but I just... I just want to slap him, y'know?"

I nodded and smiled. "I've met a few people like that."

The conversation threatened to die and I felt myself panicking. I didn't want it to be over. "He told me that everyone wants something." It wasn't much, but it was the only thing I could think of to say.

"Everyone but Grom'tuk. He always has everything he could ever want." I couldn't see why she was so angry at him.

"He wants things," I volunteered. "He wants to go to Mulgore."

"That's not a 'thing'. That's a lack of things. He wants give up everything he has... and... and go live in the dirt..." She snapped her head to the side, her eyes opened wide. The smell of spicy blackroot on her breath made my heart pound. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Don't be." It hurt a little that she dismissed of my whole life to this point as "living in the dirt," but I didn't want her to look away. I stared into her eyes.

"What is it you want?" I asked.

She smiled and her gaze drifted off. I didn't think she was going to answer. Then she turned back to me. "Lead."

"Lead?"

She nodded. "I want lead. Guns, I've got, but lead is in short supply. I want lead to make into bullets."

I smiled, and then she asked me what I wanted. I could feel my heart start to race and sweat start to soak my fur. "Me? Um, um..." I knew exactly what I wanted but had no idea how to say it. "I want... to... get you some lead."

I felt relieved and stupid at the same time.

"Oh really." She looked out across the valley as if people told her every day that they wanted to get her some lead. Her mouth curled up at the edges with the barest whisp of a smile.

"Sure! I'd love to." I still felt stupid, but not nearly as stupid as I would have had I been honest. "Any idea where I might..."

Now she was grinning too. At least it was a step in the right direction. "...might find some lead?" she finished for me.

"The nearest lead mine is the Boulder Lode. It's a couple days' walk, west and south."

"I'll just borrow a pick axe and I'll be on my way..."

She punched me in the shoulder and shook her head. She stared at my face a long time, trying to determine if I was serious. "There's miners there at the mine... they've just stopped shipping. If you wanted to take a cart out there and buy me some ore..."

"Why did they stop shipping?"

"No one knows," she told me. "Perhaps the mine tapped out? Perhaps they had a cave in? No idea. But if you went out there, you could find out."

"I'd love to."

She looked me right in the eyes and smiled. The very tips of my ears tingled. I would have walked the entire way on my hands for that smile alone.

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Nothing is Ever Simple
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 3: Nothing is Ever Simple

Ooh, Xon'cha's a feisty one.

Kaja had given me a quick primer on the value of lead; what was a good deal and how much was too much to spend. She showed me the last of her stock and explained how to tell good lead from bad. She even explained some of the scams that the Goblins had tried to pull in the past.

I doubted that I could tell galena from cerussite or anglesite, but spending the time with her had filled me with confidence. I was pretty sure that I could work a deal and not come back with load of tailings.

Our next stop was back to Xon'cha, the stable master. He thought I wanted to take Izzy back to Razor Hill, and so it took a good deal of effort to communicate otherwise.

"Boulder Lode mine," I repeated, poking at the map on his wall. "I need a hand cart, or a small drawn cart that I can take to the mine. I need to carry two or three hundred pounds of lead ore."

Finally, he seemed to get it. He corrected where I was pointing on the map. "A dig be deh, mon. Mi getcha say-so fi a go a dis. Inna sun-up, a'right?" He nodded his understanding. "Inna sun-up."

"No, not in the morning. I want to rent a cart now."

"Naa, y'soon come in a sun-up, sight?" And he sent me on my way.

Johnny and I spent the night under the stars, high atop the canyon wall. A lot of the infantry was up there too, whiling away the hours until morning. We were surrounded by travellers who could not afford lodging, and troops without permanent accommodations. Orcs built campfires, they sang and drank. There was a great sense of camaraderie.

At first light, we returned to Xon'cha, who had a kodo and a huge cart waiting for us. "No, no Xon'cha," I explained, "I just need a small cart."

"Mi get fi say-so. Godeh dig an' get whole load a dis."

He took me inside and unrolled a small map that I could bring on the trip. The map showed Orgrimmar, the mine, and several small villages in the area. "Y'Tarren kyaan read, yeh?"

"I can read a map." I found his tone very insulting. Perhaps I was just getting frustrated.

Xon'cha took three scrolls out of a satchel and gestured at the villages marked on the map. Now I understood. It was only two months earlier that my own utankan had received the same sort of scroll.

"Y'Tarren kyaan read, yeh?" he repeated.

"No, I can't read."

The lanky Troll nodded his bright-red mane. He took out a quill and marked the outsides of the scrolls with three different symbols, a square, a circle, and a triangle. Then he marked the map with the same three symbols.

"Den might be dey kyaan read neida'. Mek dem see it, a'right?"

"I'll explain it to them."

"Ripe." He marked the map again. Three hash marks by the large village, two by the medium one, and one by the smallest.

This was not a chore I wanted, but it was clear that I had no choice. The villages had one month to provide one, two, or three conscripts, depending on the how many people lived there.

Outside, the cart was loaded with enough food and feed for a couple-week journey. We'd have to pick up the lead last, of course. Once we were carrying all that weight, our progress would be slow.

Xon'cha reached in his purse and pulled out ten pieces of gold. "Get whole kyart fi deh Harde."

I looked over the reinforced wheels and supports. The cart looked strong enough to haul lead, but the cart was huge. I sized it up in my mind. "That's not enough." I shook my head. If what Kaja had told me was fair, then there was no way I could buy a full cart of lead for ten pieces of gold. "For ten, they will sell us only half a cart. Half at best."

Xon'cha looked back and forth between the cart and gold for a while before he agreed. He pulled out eight more coins. "Y'dun tief a Harde's coin," he warned, "'caa deh grunts an' Xon'cha, wi follow wit' cuttas... tek yu mojo bag, sight."

He cupped his hand between his legs, to make sure I understood.

I took the gold from his hand and pressed my face up to his. "I won't steal the money."

Jerk.

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A Solemn Task
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 4: A Solemn Task

From Orgrimmar, we headed West, over the Southfury river and to the cliffs of the northern barrens. The cliffs lined the river, but there was a trail along its edge that was just wide enough for a cart and kodo. The going was slow, but not nearly as slow as the walk with Izzy had been.

If this kodo had a name, what it was wasn't clear. I was so angry with Xon'cha that I hadn't asked. So I nicknamed the great beast Slobbers.

The city defenders had assured me that there were no threats in the area. No enemy troops had been spotted and there were no targets of strategic significance. Plus, with as little traffic as the trail usually saw, it seemed more likely to encounter wild animals than brigands.

As the day passed, I spent the time trying to work with Johnny. I talked to him. I pointed out things I thought were interesting. I told him about my family and related stories from my childhood. Although the progress was slow, it seemed to be working.

I encouraged him to eat every day. I don't think he really had to, but without prompting, he would go for days without taking a bite of anything. I wanted him to remember his humanity. Sometimes when he ate, I almost thought I detected a hint of a smile.

In the late afternoon, we took a fork in the trail that led us into a valley and eventually up the cliffs themselves. From there, we would cross the plateau to a great lake at the foot of a waterfall. I didn't know the name of the village, the lake, or the waterfall (they were just scribbles on the map), but the landmarks would be obvious enough and hard to miss.

On the third day, Johnny poked my arm and pointed towards thin wisps of smoke. In itself, this seemed like a minor thing, but for Johnny, it was a breakthrough.

We walked slowly into town and were viewed with suspicion by all. Mothers held children close or watched from windows. We walked past farms and ranches to what seemed like the center of the village. Wherever we went, people stopped what they were doing and followed us.

A door opened on one of the larger homes and an older Orc hurried out. He had long, braided, salt-and-pepper hair, and muscles that were starting to get doughy with age. Unlike the other villagers, he approached me directly. "Lok'tar, friend," the traditional Orcish greeting.

"I bring word from Orgrimmar." I reached in the satchel and removed the scroll marked with a square. It was an off-white parchment sealed with the red crest of the Horde.

He did not look surprised, more resigned. He accepted the scroll with dignity, broke the seal, and read the words without moving his lips. I was thankful he could read. I felt bad enough informing him that three of their children must be sent off to war. Having to say the words myself would only make it harder.

"Dabu." I obey.

Although I wished to spend a night in a bed, and to eat a home-cooked meal, I did not belong here. They had only a month to select and say farewell to their children. I did not want to steal away any of that time.

I turned my cart around and lead it back the way I came without another word.

From there, I walked south along a poorly-marked trail. Our next stop was the smallest of the three villages we had to visit. I was worried that we would miss it or that I would lose the trail entirely. By comparison with how far we had walked to the first village, I judged that it would take another four days.

The one-sided conversations with Johnny were leaving me drained, and I was running out of trivial, unimportant things to blather on about.

"What do you think about Kaja?"

It just sort of came out. I wasn't sure I was even ready to talk about her, even to someone who I knew could keep a secret. Johnny looked at me, and I think he raised his eyebrows a little.

"I don't know why she makes me feel so crazy," I explained. "Tauren aren't like this. We don't favor one cow over another. We compete against the other bulls to acquire the biggest herd we can. We don't... we don't..."

I sighed long and hard. "I know that the Orcs pair off... they mate for life... it's really... weird... How about Forsaken?"

Johnny stared at me, blankly. It was an insensitive question to ask the undead, perhaps.

"I guess you guys don't really... But, what about before the plague? Did your people mate for life?"

Johnny nodded. He seemed sad -- even sadder than usual. I suspected that he wasn't ready yet to talk about his past.

Or for me to talk about it, I supposed.

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Little Ghost Town on the Prairie
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 5: Little Ghost Town on the Prairie

I knew the next part of our journey would be the most treacherous. It would take us within a day of the Kolkar clan's territory.

The Kolkar were a dangerous group of centaurs. Nomadic and belligerent, they were the bane of the Barrens settlers. You never knew when a band would roam too close to established farms and spark a skirmish.

The Horde outriders made it a practice of attacking whichever band of centaurs was the closest to the settlers. There was no telling whether this discouraged them from getting too close, or only fanned the flames.

On the map, a large spire marked the path down from the plateau to the lower barrens. In reality, the spire was not nearly so large as we expected. By the time we spotted it, we had wasted most of a day's travel going in the wrong direction.

Despite the lost time, I was glad to have found it. Taking a cart down a cliff is a dangerous process. Had we given up and decided to forge a new trail, I would have had to leave the kodo and cart at the top and try path after path on foot until I found one that Slobbers could handle.

We reached the lower Barrens in the late afternoon and headed West again to find the smallest town on our route. I wasn't comfortable setting up camp out here in the open, so we pushed on until dusk.

As the shadows grew long, we reached the triangle on the map, but there was no town to be found. The buildings we found had burnt, been abandoned, and been reclaimed by the desert. It didn't appear that anyone had lived here in quite some time.

"Let's set up camp in one of these old farmhouses. If we build a fire in a fireplace, it'll draw less attention."

But instead of scouting the houses around us, Johnny pointed across a field toward a dim light glowing in a window.

"Perhaps someone is home, after all."

I knocked on the door and was greeted with a pitchfork in my chest.

"I bring word from... are you the only one here?" The house looked only slightly less abandoned than the others, and the lone occupant was an Orcish boy. He was tiny, under five feet tall. Scrawny and filthy, he reminded me of a rat in its nest.

I ducked deep to enter and still had to lower my head to keep it out of the cobwebby rafters. He returned to the pot that hung over the fireplace and avoided my gaze.

"Where's your family, son? Where is everyone?"

"Dead." His anger sounded blunted by exhaustion and time. "Killed in a Kolkar raid, last fall."

"Just you escaped?"

"I was fishing when they attacked. I came back when I saw the smoke, but everyone was gone."

Wow. Settler life was rough. "So why did you stay...?"

"This is my farm now," he spat. He turned to face me. "My father built it and died defending it."

"But you're..." I didn't really know what to say, "only a calf..."

"I am not!" he screamed at my belt. "I'm twelve! I'm a grown-up!" His voice made a funny cracking sound. There were a lot of tears.

The Orcish furniture looked small, so I sat on the floor, against a rough-hewn wall. "Twelve?" I snorted, "That seems unlikely." My father was nine years old, and I bet he weighed more than this child when he was newborn. "You're pretty small... for twelve."

He wiped his eyes on the ratty sleeve of a shirt that was too small for him. He gritted his teeth. "I am not small."

"Well..." I conceded, "perhaps everyone seems small to me."

"So, did you walk all the way out here from Mulgore just to insult me?"

"No." I reached in the satchel and removed the scroll marked with a triangle. He took it but did not bother breaking the seal. "Orgrimmar has given your village a month to provide one conscript to serve the Horde."

He stared at the red insignia on the scroll for a very long time. "Okay, let's go."

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Urlug
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 6: Urlug

Despite the boy's wishes, we stayed the night before restocking the cart and backtracking East. We followed the plateau's rough edge, even though it made travel slower. I was uncomfortable getting any closer to centaur lands than I absolutely had to.

Urlug, the Orcish boy, really came out of his shell once he left the village. He talked non-stop for the entire first day, as if he was trying to make up for the long months of silence and loneliness.

Johnny seemed more distant than ever; he followed the cart at a greater distance each day. I felt bad for him, but I didn't know how to include him in conversations when he wouldn't speak. If anything, the boy was his polar opposite.

Regardless of our alleged age difference, I felt like I had a lot in common with Urlug. Oh sure, he thought that girls made the best targets for throwing mud clods, and I found them more... interesting; but on other subjects we were much more in sync. Rocks were made for climbing; caves existed to be explored; and catching crawdads was a lot more fun than doing chores.

The boy told me stories and actually asked me things. It was really refreshing. You don't realize how hard it is to talk to someone like Johnny until you have something to compare it against.

Even when his talking started to run out of steam, a single question could be enough to get him going again. "What is that thing you insisted on bringing?"

"That's my fishing pole. Hey! You said you love ta' fish. How come you don't know what a fishing pole is?"

"My people fish with nets. We throw them out into a stream," I explained, "and then gather up the fish caught inside."

"That sounds like cheating."

"Cheating?" I sighed heavily. "There are many Tauren in my utankan, my village, and my people are very large. Although it might work for someone like you, if I had to spear each fish, then we would get very hungry."

"You don't spear fish with a fishing pole."

"There's a large lake in the Valley of Honor," I told him. "Perhaps you can show me how you use it."

He told me that his father had made the pole, and that it was the last thing he had given him before he died. I could tell that he missed his family very much, and thought of them often. I showed him the hammer that I had made with my father.

Urlug insisted on hearing the story of our assault on Tiragarde Keep, and I told it faithfully -- for the most part. I told him about how Johnny had dispatched the first guard and the boy's mouth and eyes went wide in wonder. He stared at the rogue with new-found respect and silently mouthed the word "Wow!"

Johnny's expression was unreadable, as usual.

I told him that I had hit the second guard with my hammer and knocked her out cold. "Wham!" he yelled gleefully. It was a white lie; one that I could live with. I hurried the story along so as not to dwell on it.

After four days of walking, we neared River Pointe. It was nice having a travel companion that knew the names of places, even if it didn't really matter.

"If you do not wish to go on to Orgrimmar, you could stop here. I'm sure someone would take you in..."

Urlug tried to kick the seat of my pants, but it was too high off the ground. "Are you kidding? I wanna' see the Undercity. An' I wanna' see Silvermoon. An' I wanna' see Northrend, and the Outlands, and a million other places. Farmers don't get to go nowhere."

"Farmers don't have to fight wars, either."

"Sometimes they do, Brick. Sometimes they do."

With the Orcish boy in tow, the people of River Pointe were far less stand- offish towards us. Other calves around his size gathered around and peppered him with questions as we walked. Their eyes were wide with excitement.

By the time we reached the village's center, a large crowd had gathered around us. A hush descended as we came to a stop and all eyes were on me.

"Last fall, a centaur attack destroyed the village of Devil's Spire." I waited for the gasps and murmurs to subside. "Urlug, here, was the only survivor. I'm taking him to Orgrimmar, so that when he's grown," he stuck his tongue out at me and I responded in kind, "he can fight for the Horde."

I removed the last scroll from the satchel. "In one month's time, you will need to send two of your own as well."

I handed the scroll to the first man who reached for it, and began to walk again. The crowd opened a path. "Hopefully someone taller than Urlug..." I added over my shoulder.

I lifted my tail to keep it from getting kicked.

We left the crowd behind and walked in silence.

"We should'a at least stayed the night," he finally interjected, glumly.

"Why? Are you no longer in a hurry to reach Orgrimmar?"

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Boulder Lode Mine
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 7: Boulder Lode Mine

Tired of traveling and talking? Have no fear... we're almost there...

"When we get to the mine, you'll have to help load the cart," I told Urlug.

"I could do that in my sleep," he chortled.

"Oh really? Take a look at that cart once more and tell me how many rocks you think will fit in it."

The little Orc ran around the back of the cart and then much slower back to me. He didn't seem so confident now.

"This is gonna' take forever."

I had to grin.

From River Pointe, we continued East, all the way to the Southfury river. From there, the road turned North, along the cliffs, back towards Orgrimmar.

We worked our way north for a couple of days until we finally reached the sturdy dock that the miners used to load their ore on a riverboat. According to the map, the mine would be at the top of the short, well-traveled road, due-east of the dock.

I had lost track of time, but it seems like it had been ages since we had left the city. The real shame was that all I had wanted to do was walk down this road, pick up a bag of ore, and walk back. I felt like I could have made a dozen such journeys in the time we had been out.

If only I hadn't stopped for one of Xon'cha's carts.

"When we get done loading the ore, I'm going to take a dip in the river."

"Why, did'ja see a good swimmin' hole back there?"

"I just need a bath."

Urlug wrinkled his nose at the word. "Well, you do smell like the barn."

"Oh, thank you very much. You're no field of peacebloom either."

I was going to tell him that he should take one as well, but I spied a Goblin, watching us from atop a canyon wall. Even far away, those little, toothy things made me nervous.

We walked a little farther until we came to a fence. I didn't see anyone around.

"Hello?" I called out. With a shrug, I unlatched the gate and led Slobbers inside.

"Hello?"

The road went around a bend and then opened to a large, flat area.

There were several buildings here. One looked like a bunkhouse and one a latrine. One was either a smoke house or a storage shed, and I guessed that the last one, the one way off by itself was for holding blasting supplies. It would make good sense to keep that one far from the others, just in case.

I had never seen Goblin construction before, but I suspected that these buildings were originally Orcish. With as tiny as Goblins were, it seemed unlikely that they would build a roof tall enough that I could to stand underneath.

At the far end of the area was a cave entrance that lead down into blackness. There were a number of tiny carts parked here and there, loaded high with ore. Harnessed to one was another strange chimera. It had the body of a horse, but it was the size of a large dog. I didn't know what creature it got its shaggy head from, but it must have had the ears of a rabbit.

There was a fire pit in the middle of the clearing and another canyon to the side where the tailings had been dumped.

"Hello?"

A Goblin with overalls and a squint came rushing out of the bunkhouse. "Who goes there?" he called. Some more Goblins appeared behind him, and I saw the flicker of movement coming from the cave.

"My... my friends call me Brick. And this is Urlug. We've come from Orgrimmar to purchase some ore."

"Orgrimmar? Orgrimmar! Nonsense! We ship ore to them every week!"

That's when I got really nervous. I had never seen a Goblin on its home ground before, but it seemed to put them on the offensive. Or worse! Despite their small size, there were dozens of them. I worried about an attack from all directions.

They moved like a pack of hyenas. They were circling around us; cutting off any possible escape route.

"Hey now, hey." I handed Slobbers' lead to Urlug and tried to work my way closer to the cart without spooking them. I hadn't expected there to be any problems, so I had left my hammer in the back. "Don't you want to sell us ore?"

I remember the next few things as if they had been illuminated by lightning on a dark night -- isolated and out of context.

Slobbers lurching in fear.
Urlug yelling.
Someone screaming "Bandits!"
Grabbing my hammer.
Goblins climbing on me.
A large rock over my head.

Then there was no more lightning. Only blackness.

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Prisoners
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 8: Prisoners

I awoke, slow and groggy, with the worst headache I had ever felt. It was like an explosion of pain where my skull met my spine. And not just there -- my ankles were killing me and my wrists hurt too. My arms were wrenched behind me at a queer angle.

My horns were jammed up against some wooden planks, placing my neck at an awkward angle and making it hard to see. I felt dizzy and there was ringing in my ears.

"Urlug? Are you there?" Someone was in the same room, talking, but my eyes weren't cooperating.

It had to be dark out, now. The room was lit by a lantern. I could smell the kerosene and the heavy scent of dried meat. I could taste blood. I tried to turn my head.

Suddenly, I realized why I was so disoriented. I was hanging upside-down with my wrists bound tightly behind me.

I had to free my hooves. With a surge of strength, I curled my chest upwards, towards my thighs, threw my tail out straight, and hooked my bound wrists behind my knees. My head began to spin and I thought that I might throw up, but I had to fight the nausea. Nothing was as important as escaping.

I had to blink a few times to focus, but I could see well enough now. There was some manner of pulleys hanging from the rafters that they had used to haul me up here. From the pulleys a hook, and from the hook a heavy length of chain. The chain was wrapped around my ankles and secured with a padlock.

Grr! Even if I had my hands free, there was no way I was going to be able to open the lock. The chain was really tearing into my ankles too. I couldn't feel my hooves and I wanted nothing more than to get my weight off that chain.

The hook! I thought that if I could just lift my weight off the hook, then perhaps I could shake the chain free.

"Pipe down, you!" a small, harsh voice snapped at me.

I ignored it and tried to twist this way and that to get a better look at the hook. Inside the hook was some manner of spring. The spring held a clasp inside the hook closed. There was no way the chain was coming free unless someone held the clasp back at the same time.

The sense of defeat was crushing. I lowered myself back down and let my stomach muscles rest.

"Where are my clothes?" I groaned. Even my small clothes were missing. "What the hell is going on here?" The small, wooden building shook with my bellows.

"I'll deal with you shortly, Mr. Cow!" snapped the squinty-eyed goblin I had met earlier.

Mr. Cow? That didn't even begin to make any sense!

Urlug was laying on his side. From the position, I could tell that his hands and feet had been tied. At least he still had his clothes.

It was hard to think, but I was relieved that Urlug was being kept in the same building, and didn't appear to be tied to anything like I was. Perhaps once Squinty left, the boy would be able to break free and then untie my hands. I looked around for sharp edges he could rub his bonds against. At worst, I figured, I could always try to chew through the rope.

Squinty was crouching beside his head, asking him questions. I could hear the boy sobbing.

"Urlug!" I yelled. The Goblin hissed at me, showing all of its pointy teeth, before returning its attention to its captive.

"So let me get this straight, little boy," his voice was slow, raspy and frightening, "you've never been to Orgrimmar, you're an orphan, and no one with even a copper to his name knows that you're here... or even cares that you're alive?"

"Hey! It's not like that!" I yelled. I could hear the poor boy wailing in terror.

In a single motion, Squinty leapt from the floor, up on top of the table. Despite their round shape, these things were as nimble as house cats.

Without a Goblin in the way, Urlug looked at me. He mouthed the word "Help!"

I looked up. The table was a solid thing with a thick wood-slab top. It was too tall to sit at, even for an Orc. A slot cut through the table's edge held an array of knives and cleavers. Squinty picked through them carefully before settling on a short, boning knife.

"Leave him alone!" I screamed. I struggled against my bonds, but they just bit harder into my wrists. My horns dug deep into the soft, pine floor boards, and suddenly I was swinging wildly from the hook.

"Leave him alone, you néchi!" I screamed my throat raw. I swung this way and that. The throbbing in my head became a pounding once more. The dizziness reverted to nausea.

I was swinging out of control; facing every direction but towards the Goblin.

The wall; the table; a Goblin crouched over an Orcish child; a wall; a door; a puddle of blood.

I could feel the darkness return, but this time I welcomed it.

---

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Assessment
Index: [Previous] [First]

Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 9: Assessment

When my consciousness returned it was day again. The shed's door was wide open and the light was blinding. I couldn't focus, but I knew there was nothing that I wanted to see.

I took a deep breath and my chest made a wet, rattling noise. I could feel blood in my mouth and my sinuses now. At least I couldn't feel the pain in my ankles any more. Not a good thing, I was sure, but I was more than willing to trade numbness for pain.

Some one or some thing was climbing on me, like I was a tree. I was afraid it was a rat, but then I realized there were voices beyond the buzzing in my ears. Goblins... rats... whatever. Goblins were worse.

"49 inches," I heard a voice say, "...call it seven pounds... each, yeah of course, each."

"Urlug... are you there?" I mumbled.

"He's gone, Mr. Cow. I've tossed him to the crocolisks."

"You vermin! You heartless néchis..." I started coughing uncontrollably. Color doesn't usually make much of an impression on me, but the glob I coughed up was so vivid, so bright and red.

"Settle down, Mr. Cow. You have much more important concerns." I could hear Squinty writing. "Hide?"

"Sure, no point'n wastin' that. Put down a few silver for it."

"Keeping that?" I could hear Squinty suppress a laugh.

"Why, do you want it? You need a jump rope?" The other voice was laughing now. "Y'could use it to fright'n yer girlfriend."

"I think we're done here," Squinty said. "Would you mind totalling that up for me? Thanks... Mr. Cow... Mr. Cow? Are you with us, Mr. Cow?"

"When I get my strength back..." I rasped, "I'm going to tear out your intestines and force them down your throat."

"You're not getting your strength back. The longer you hang there, the weaker you will get. Besides, I'm trying to save your life, here. You do want me to save your life; don't you Mr. Cow?"

I didn't have a reply for the little beast so he stuck his hand in one of my nostrils and rocked my head back on my horns. He peered in my eye. "Do you want to live, Mr. Cow?"

"Yes," I said, spraying his overalls with a fine, red mist. He let my face drop back, hard, to the floor.

He crouched next to my left ear and began talking directly into it. "Then listen very carefully. This is important.

"You have a certain value to us. Mr. Beedle is working on that now... Thank you, Mr. Beedle... Mr. Beedle estimates that you would have a dressed weight of... roughly 450 pounds..."

"Where are my clothes?"

"You're not paying attention, Mr. Cow. Do you understand how important this is?"

"I'm trying to." I slurred a bit. "But my head hurts. The world keeps spinning."

"You must have a very thick skull, Mr. Cow. I was surprised you kept breathing after I hit you with that rock.

"Here is a tally... Open your eyes, Mr. Cow. Here is a tally of precisely what you are worth to us. Steaks, ribs, briskets, hamburger, sausage, soup stock... Mr. Beedle? Where's the choice cuts, Mr. Beedle? Where's the fillet?"

"Ain't got no tenderloin. He's a bipeed."

"Cannibals! You're cannibal vermin," I shouted.

A brief pause and then Squinty was talking in my ear once more. "No, Mr. Cow, we are not cannibals. Why, are you part Goblin? No, I think not. No, but I believe you are part cow, maybe more than part. You look very close to a cow to me.

"In fact, I'd bet... I'd place most any wager, that when Mr. Beedle slices off a slab of you, grills it to a nice medium-rare, and plops it down on my plate... well... I bet that I won't be able to tell the difference at all. Do you follow me?"

I nodded the best I could by rocking my head on my horns, and the room began to spin once more.

"So, Mr. Cow, if I let Mr. Beedle do what he does so well, then not only will there be delicious meaty treats for me to enjoy all month long..."

"Gotta' let th'meat hang for a couple'a weeks. Ages it. You'll be glad y'waited."

Squinty growled in frustration at the interruption. "The point is that having you over for dinner will save... three gold... and 84 silver... I'll round it up for you, Mr. Cow. You'll save me four pieces of gold off of my supply bills."

He gruffed loudly and took a moment to catch his breath. "So if you want to keep on breathing the air, then you should think of someone who values your carcass. Someone who thinks it is worth more than four pieces of gold.

"And, Mr. Cow, you should do it quickly."

---

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Ransom
Index: [Previous] [First]

Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 10: Ransom

"I have gold," I explained, "I was trying to buy ore with the money."

"We found your purse when we subdued you."

"Then you know that I was trying to buy ore, not rob you!" Ow. Shouting made it worse.

"You're not paying attention, Mr. Cow. If Mr. Beedle turns you into cold-cuts, then I will still have that gold, won't I? It's on both sides of the equation," he said, pushing the paper in my face once more. "Who will give me additional money for not killing you?"

I tried to focus; really I did. "Like slavery? Do you want me to dig in the mine to work off your four gold?" Wow. I didn't know how much being a slave would "pay," but I bet it would take a lifetime to earn that much.

His laughter was awful. "And have you here, with me, every day, plotting your revenge? I think not, Mr. Cow. If we were in Alliance lands, perhaps. I could sell you to a farmer and have you pull a plow for the rest of your days. But I can't sell a Tauren here, and I know you're not worth the cargo fees."

"Grom'tuk!" Ow. "He has money. He'd pay a ransom. I'm sure of it."

"Grom'tuk? Where is he? Does he know you're here? Will he be coming to look for you?" I had his complete attention now.

"He's in... no, wait, by now he's on his way to Mulgore."

"Mulgore? On his way? No, that is very bad, Mr. Cow; very bad indeed. Too far away. I'd have to keep you well and fed for a very long time. I'd have to pay someone to search for this Grom'tuk. It would take a king's ransom to merit that sort of effort. There's no way you're worth that much money.

"Think!"

Ugh. Everyone I knew was in Mulgore. "Well, in Orgrimmar..."

"Orgrimmar is good. Very close to here," Squinty interrupted.

"She's kind'a my girlfriend..."

"Kind'a? Kind'a? 'Kind'a' is bad."

"Of course, she's my girlfriend," I corrected, "She's crazy about me. She would do anything to make sure I was not harmed." I tried to smile and look sincere.

"Good. She would pay 21 gold?"

It was more money than I had ever seen in my life. "21? I thought you said I was worth four."

That really pushed Squinty over the edge. Now he was yelling in my face, spraying my fur with spit. "Transportation! Bribes! Risk! There's no risk in grinding you up, but ransom equals risk! If you want me to take a risk then there better be some profit in it!"

Everything seemed so futile. The elders in my utankan would say, "Never give up. Never surrender," but I never imagined being in a situation as devoid of hope as this was.

I could drag Kaja into this mess and possibly put her life at risk too, and for what? For a couple more days of life? Would she be able to come up with such a high ransom? Would she even be willing? We really didn't even know each other that well. I could bankrupt her or put her in a position to say "no".

I felt low and worthless, but I refused to beg: "I don't want you to eat me."

Squinty made a "pssht" sort of noise. "I'm sure that every steak has some place that it would rather be, than on the plate."

I didn't blubber. I didn't whimper. But I could feel my eyes tearing up, so I closed them and waited for the tears to stop.

"Oh there, there. I'm sorry I upset you, Mr. Cow." He sounded exasperated.

Squinty stood and patted my chest with his little, clawed hand. "I like you. I'll tell you what, Mr. Cow; I'll let you hang upside-down until then. You'll be so dizzy, you won't even see it coming, okay?"

---

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The Black Cauldron
Index: [Previous] [First]

Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

This scene is starting to get kind'a intense, so I marked it 14+. Hope you guys don't mind!

Episode 11: The Black Cauldron

Squinty let me hang and I did get dizzier. With the blood pounding in my ears, it was getting hard to hear. My cough was getting worse too. Blood dried around my mouth and crusted in my nose.

I drifted in and out and soon the shadows grew long. The cliffs cast the area into a twilight.

"You about ready, Mr. Beedle?"

"Nope." I had seen him sharpening knives throughout the day, busying himself with this or that. I tried to talk to him, but he didn't seem like a sympathetic sort. There was no way he would let me escape. "Too warm out. Way too warm. Roun'bout midnight, I s'pect."

"Midnight? This isn't some sort of Druidic ceremony, this is cutting meat."

"Slaughterins' cold-weather work. Weren't nev'r supposed to be done in dar' summer. If'n I cut him open now, those flies'd be all over him. You want maggots in yer steak? No, I s'pect you don't."

Squinty hurried off in a huff and left Mr. Beedle chuckling. The butcher looked me in the eye once we were alone. He smiled and put his mouth to my ear so that no one else would hear. "Tell ya' what I'ma gonna' do..."

My heart started racing a mile-a-minute. Did I actually get through to him? Did he see how cruel and wrong this was?

"When ya' butcher a critter, ya' gotta' cut dem' balls off first. Yup. You leave 'em on and they taint the meat." My stomach did a few flips. It's a good thing it was empty. "Best actually to take 'em off when they just a calf, but hey, not much we can do 'bout that now, eh?"

Again, I had no response, so I just stared at the horrible little creature crouching beside my face.

"So here's what I do for you, okay? I wait until he bleeds you out a bit. That way you don't feel it so long."

I just closed my eyes and waited for him to leave.

It grew dim, and then dark.

I started feeling giddy. I was no less helpless than before, but everything seemed funnier and less desperate for some reason.

Mr. Beedle lit a lantern. A Goblin I didn't recognize (so I nicknamed him Fatso) gathered some wood and lit a fire in the fire pit. Squinty rolled out a large, cast iron pot towards the fire.

The pot was huge, ten gallons at least. It completely obscured the goblin as he pushed it. I started laughing at him so hard that I couldn't stop.

Mr. Beedle approached, with a bucket of soapy water in hand. That seemed hilarious too. I started laughing at him as well, and couldn't seem to stop. I wished I could wipe the tears from my eyes. The little Goblin just stared at the mad, laughing cow, waiting for me to finish.

Finally getting momentary control over myself, I chortled, "You're never going to fit me in that tiny pot!"

Mr. Beedle dunked a rag into the soapy water. "Gotta' boil d'head," he said.

The pot stopped being so funny.

The butcher scampered up and down my back, washing my ankles and hooves with the rag and then dunking it back in the bucket. Drips of soapy water ran down my legs, like giant tears.

The air was getting cold and I hadn't seen any flies in quite some time. Squinty lifted my head by a nostril and stared in my eyes. "How are you doing in there, Mr. Cow?"

"I've felt better," I moaned.

"That's a damn shame, Mr. Cow. I thought you'd be more out of it by now," he said "You're out of time."

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The Only Weapon Left
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 12: The Only Weapon Left

The hit counter is making me think we have some new readers joining in. So if you're new, then welcome!

And regardless of whether you're new or not, if you're enjoying the story, please pass it along to a friend. Tell your guildmates, and pass links along to your buddies. I'd like everyone who digs fantasy tales to check it out.

It was getting really hard to catch my breath and nearly impossible to concentrate. "I still don't understand why you wouldn't sell me any ore."

"Your story is obviously a lie. Orgrimmar wouldn't have sent you, so therefore you must be a bandit. This is our hospitality for bandits." Squinty gestured grandiosely with the boning knife he held. "You're welcome!"

"But Orgrimmar hasn't received a shipment in months." I resisted shaking my head as I feared I might lose consciousness again.

"Lies and also lies!" he snapped. "We haven't missed a shipment since that one sandstorm..." he flipped through pages on a ledger, "...thirteen months and three weeks ago. I watched the loading of every last shipment, and have initialed each entry here." He tried shoving the paperwork in my face, but I couldn't have cared less.

"Perhaps the shipments didn't make it?" I was reaching; looking for any doubts he might have had.

"Ha! You wish. My brother-in-law, Nuzak, operates the shipping company. If there was a problem with one shipment, he would have said something when he picked up the next." He squinted at me even harder than usual, as if trying to figure out what I was up to.

My head was feeling fuzzy again... not now... please not now... "Maybe he sold the ore to someone else?"

"Inconceivable!" the little beast barked. "Orgrimmar is the mine's largest customer. Even if Nuzak found someone willing to pay more, they wouldn't have bought it all. Orgrimmar would still be receiving some of the shipments. Ergo, you are a liar, and soon to be perishables."

"Well... well..." Think! Think, damn you! Fight through the dizziness! "perhaps he didn't deliver it."

"Oh, and he just acted like he did?" The little creep pranced in front of me just to emphasize his point. "I suppose he paid me my share out of his own purse, and just pretended he was selling the ore.

"Why, Mr. Cow, why in this fantasy world of yours would my brother-in-law part needlessly with so much of his own gold? Just to piss off Thrall?"

I felt so dizzy; so tired. I didn't want to have this conversation, and to try to come up with things that I couldn't possibly know. I just wanted to sleep; to lay down and sleep.

Squinty was so angry that he got in my face and screamed. He held open one of my eyes so that I couldn't look away. "Do you have any idea what Thrall would do if we refused to ship him ore? We're only two days away from Orgrimmar. He would march his troops in here and slaughter every last one of us!"

I started giggling. In my mind I saw Thrall, the mighty warchief, mining for lead in a dirty hole. "Thrall must be pretending he didn't receive them," I said. "Perhaps he wants to be a miner." It made sense to me at the time. "Or perhaps he wants his army to mine lead." I wasn't trying to goad him. It just came out that way.

"You are a stupid, stupid cow. You don't understand anything about how the world works, do you? If we wouldn't provide Thrall with ore, then he'd take the mine and sell it to someone who would."

Now, Thrall was wearing an admiral's hat, and dancing a little jig in my mind. Squinty's brother-in-law, Nuzak, was playing the accordion for him. "He should sell the mine to your brother-in-law, Nuzak." The giggling returned.

"Exactly," the Goblin agreed, "someone ruthless, like Nuzak, could buy the mine for only a few silver on the gold..." There was a long-ish pause. "And then deliver the ore he didn't deliver earlier... and make back the money he had invested..." The little creature suddenly seemed a lot less sure of himself. "...And a healthy profit..."

"I'm sorry, Squinty, that was a mean thing for me to say, just now. I hope you will forgive me." I meant it. I really did feel sorry. The Goblin just stared, speechless. "No one would kill off family." I tried to make that "pssht" sound of his to show how stupid I had been. "For what? Gold?"

He stared in silence, his little mouth hanging open. Then he said the funniest thing I had ever heard in my entire life. In retrospect, it didn't seem so witty, but at the time it was hilarious. "We're all going to die..."

Squinty backed away from me, but I was rocking back and forth from the hook, laughing as hard as I could laugh. "We're all going to die!" I screamed. "We're all going to die!"

He backed towards the fire, and so did Mr. Beedle. Fatso came out, and all the other Goblins as well. I kept on screaming that we were all going to die. Screaming and laughing my lungs out, while what looked like the entire Goblin nation gathered around the campfire to talk.

Someone stepped inside the shed with me and closed the door. My little joke stopped being funny again. But I didn't want that feeling to go away, so I tried to spark it up again, "Did you know that we're all going to die, Johnny?"

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Revolt
Index: [Previous] [First]

Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 13: Revolt

While the Goblins argued, Johnny lowered the pulley.

"I think that Squinty-eyed Goblin has the key," I told him, but Johnny had already picked the lock and was helping me to my hooves. I had a very hard time standing and focus was hard to maintain, but the sudden change in fortune energized me.

Johnny unsheathed both of his daggers and I grabbed the length of chain. I would have rather had my hammer, but that was still in the cart.

"Hold on one moment," I told the Forsaken as I paused to pick up Mr. Beedle's lantern. "It's dark out there."

From the look in the rogue's eyes, I suspected that Johnny would have preferred that we crept away while the Goblins were distracted.

I had no intention of leaving here with my tail between my legs.

I hit the door hard with the side of my fist and was rewarded with the sound of splintering wood and twisting metal. The crowd of Goblins gathered around the fire gasped with a single voice as the shed's door fell flat. I stepped out on top of it and looked out across the miners. There were more of them than I wished to count, so I hurled the lantern, spilling kerosene and flame across the unlucky. High-pitched shrieks filled the air.

The Goblins had been quick to attack when we were unarmed, but now that the tables were turned, they chose to flee. We didn't pursue them, but those who moved too slowly tasted my iron or Johnny's steel.

"Where did they go?" I said, my head still spinning a little.

Johnny pointed to the mouth of the mine. If they thought that I would not follow them into that darkness, then they were correct.

"Who's left?" Only a handful of injured Goblins remained. They clutched their wounds or tried to crawl to sanctuary.

I flipped them over one by one to see if I recognized any. It was my lucky day; Squinty hadn't left just yet.

"I've got some work to do. Hold this one for me," I told the Forsaken.

I limped to the dynamite shed and unloaded their entire stock, everything but a single barrel of black powder, and carefully stacked it up at the mouth of mine. I removed the barrel's bung and poured roughly half of the powder over the pile. Then I set the barrel on top of that before reclaiming the wounded Goblin.

He struggled a bit and probably plead for his life. It was all just noise to me. I chained him tightly to the barrel and snapped the padlock fast to hold it in place.

A quick search revealed my purse (with gold still inside), but not my clothes, so I borrowed another lantern and a small, Goblin blanket from the bunkhouse. I tied the ends of blanket above my tail, like a kilt, and handed the burning lantern to Johnny. "If you see anyone try to come out of that mine, you toss this in Mr. Squinty's lap, okay?"

Johnny nodded and I knelt down to have one last chat with my former captor.

"I'm going to take that load of ore, the one that I came for. I've traveled too far now to go back empty-handed. And, I've suffered too deeply to leave you any payment. That doesn't make us 'even'. Nothing ever will."

He didn't respond and I didn't look back.

I loaded the ore into the cart. As Urlug had predicted, it took a very long time. Longer yet, since I had no one to share the burden, or to keep the mood light with jokes, stories, or even complaints. It was just me and the heavy rocks.

I tried not to dwell on the profound sadness I felt, or on how I had failed the boy. He may not have died in some foreign land, but the Goblins had cheated him out of a proper burial. Now, more than ever before, I understood the true weight of Grom'tuk's words.

The Goblins didn't try to retaliate, and I was thankful that that we could leave without further violence.

With a pat to the nose, and a tug on the lead, we were underway once more.

On that long walk back to Orgrimmar, I was kind of glad that Johnny was not the talkative type. I only had two words to share with him, and I was sure he knew I meant it.

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Closure
Index: [Previous] [First]

Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 14: Closure

"Mi see dat dig still runnin'," Xon'cha shouted when he saw us rolling up.

"They had some problems with shipping," I told him, "but I suspect they will straighten it out soon."

I unloaded my gear and handed it to Johnny. "Can you take care of this for a while, my friend?" He responded by putting his hand on my shoulder, and I thanked him.

Without asking, I removed a heavy, canvas sack from Xon'cha's office and I filled it with ore. When it was as full as I could manage, I tied it closed and heaved the load over my shoulders.

"I delivered two of those conscriptions, but Devil's Spire has been razed, and there was no one left to accept the third.

"I fetched the Horde's ore and I returned it back here. I don't know what fair compensation is for all those tasks, but I'm in a generous mood, so I'll accept some of the ore as payment, instead." I was in no mood to deal with the red- haired Troll, and so that would have to do.

# # #

Kaja wore an oily cloth apron today, to protect her regular clothes. She sat behind a work table, assembling a rifle.

"I didn't think you were coming back." Her face showed a mix of worry and relief.

"I was afraid I wouldn't make it." I set the ore down inside the door. My smile was genuine. I hated to see her worry about me, but it warmed me inside to think that she might.

"You look like hell." She set her apron on the table and took me by the hand. "Let's get you fixed up."

Kaja led me out of the valley and into The Drag. "Dare I ask what happened to your clothes?"

I folded my ears back so she wouldn't see them blush. "I ran into some... difficulties... with the Goblins," I said in lieu of an explanation.

"Bargained the clothes right off your back, did they?" She winked and smiled at me. "And I always thought that was just a figure of speech."

Despite my wounded ankles, I felt like I could walk on air. I didn't ever want to let her hand go.

She led me up a lot of stairs, and to a modest home that had been carved into the sandstone. She peeked her head around a corner, "Mom?"

A young Orc woman stepped out of the kitchen with a flour-covered apron. "Kaja? What are you doing here?" She had chiseled features and a mischievous smile. Kaja stooped over so that the woman could kiss her on the cheek. She grinned wide. "And who is your... nearly-naked friend?"

"Mother!" Kaja gasped, "Brick's been injured. Can you just help him, please?"

The woman took us both by the hand and led us inside, "Oh, if I can keep your father together throughout all of the centaur wars, then I'm sure I can fix this too."

"Mother?" I mouthed to Kaja.

"Agra and Gorrum raised me from a calf. Gorrum is an outrider. He and his men saved us when our village was raided. Agra is the only Mom I really remember."

She put a hand up to Kaja's cheek and cupped her face. "Oh, and she was a handful too. You grew up too fast, my dear, too fast."

# # #

Kaja was wearing her lace top as she swept the floor. She looked my way and put a fist on her hip. "For a guy without a gun, you sure come in here a lot."

"I'm sorry." I stared at the floor, worried that I had worn out my welcome. "I was just wondering if you had a shovel I could borrow."

"A shovel?"

"It's for a shteowachi," I explained.

Kaja stepped to the back of her shop and started sifting through a pile of dusty items. "I grew up with Orcs, so I don't know squat about Tauren rituals." She handed me a small, camp shovel. "But do you always bring a fishing pole to a funeral?"

"No, not usually." I looked at the pole in my hand and thought about how much I missed Urlug. "Perhaps you could come with me. I could show you."

# # #

A little north of Orgrimmar, the sand of Durotar gave way to the rich soil of Ashenvale. There, I built a bonfire and buried the fishing pole in a long, narrow hole. The hole wasn't very deep, but I didn't figure that it really needed to be. It's not like scavengers would dig it up.

I replanted a tiny sapling on top of it to symbolize rebirth.

It may sound strange, but my people believe that love is stored in the heart and grief in the lungs. So, I sang the old songs to speed Urlug's spirit on its way. I sang into the fire and I let the flames lift my air into the sky.

Kaja held my hand, and I think that helped too.

I'm not sure if it bothered anyone that Brick held Urlug's funeral in Ashenvale instead of in Durotar. If Urlug had a preference, then it probably would have been to be buried in his own desert (or near his favorite fishing hole) rather than in some strange country. I did realize this while I was writing it, but as my mom used to say, "Funerals are for the living; not for the dead."

As strange as that may sound, it's really true. Urlug was finished suffering, and now it's time for Brick to do some healing. Ashenvale looks a lot more like Mulgore than Durotar does; and Mulgore holds (almost) all of Brick's happy memories. Despite his respect for the spirits, it didn't really surprise me that Brick would choose the forests over the deserts for Urlug's shteowachi.

Regardless, that's the end of Part III, folks! I hope you liked it, and didn't mind all the bad fortune that came Brick's way in this part. For what it's worth, I think some good fortune is headed his way now.

Tune in tomorrow for a very, very, special, bonus episode!

And oh yeah, on a more personal note, it looks like I've finally found work. Yay! This economy has really been kicking my ass and I just can't wait to get back to doing what I actually went to school for. Not that I mind writing stories for you guys to read, but that hardly pays the bills.

Don't worry. Like I said before, I've already finished writing this story, so it's not like I'm going to get busy/lose interest/stop posting entries before we get to the last one. I do, however, have a little traveling ahead of me for my second interview and moving from Utah to Alabama. I can't yet predict how long and when I'll be offline, but some of the future episodes may be delayed by a bit. If a day or two goes by without a scheduled post, don't fret. I will post them all as time (and internet access) permits.

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Rescued
Index: [Previous] [First]

Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Rescued

The hardest thing about writing in first person that you only get to include stuff that the narrator sees. That's pretty infuriating. There's times when you have something that you really want to share with the audience, but there's just no way for the narrator to know about it, or to have a reason to mention it.

So, as such, the following third person episode is not actually part of the story. Nope. Not in the story at all. But, it's a damn good episode. I had to write it, even though I can't technically include it.

So here's a little one-off that you won't want to miss. Unless your heart is full of centipedes and broken glass, then I think you're bound to like it.

Oh yeah, and and one last thing: You might want to skip dessert today. This one is pretty sweet.

The night was dark and The Drag was empty, except for two giant grey wolves and their riders.

"I know it's late, but we're here, my dear."

The powerfully-built Orc slid from the saddle and handed the reins to his underling.

"Let me help you down. Be careful."

Gorrum coaxed the girl to relax her death-grip on the saddle's pommel. He took her in his hands and gently eased her down.

"You did very good. You were such a big girl. You rode that wolf like you were born on one." His smile was wide and reassuring. His big, white tusks reminded her a little of the horns that most people had on their heads.

"I wanna' go home!" she started to cry.

"I know you do. It's going to be okay."

The big Orc looked up from the child and tried to keep his voice quiet and non- threatening. "Would you please stable my mount?"

"Yes, sergeant," the younger man whispered. He attempted to salute, despite holding reigns in each hand.

"Come on now, just up these stairs." He took the girl's hand and led her towards a long column of stairs carved into sandstone. Her tiny hooves echoed ticks through the dark night.

At the top of the stairs, Gorrum unlocked the door, spilling only a little light into the dark home. Someone lit a candle and then headed out to meet them. "Gorrum? Is it you? Are you back?"

The candle was held by a tall, pretty Orc woman. Her black hair stuck up in funny directions, and she held her robe closed with one hand. The man and woman embraced immediately, holding each other tight.

He never let go of the little girl's hand.

"Daddy! Daddy!" came a shrill voice from the darkness. A tiny Orc child, about the same height as the girl, rushed out to welcome her father.

Gorrum dropped to his knees and embraced his daughter close, but the other girl burst into loud, miserable tears. "There, there, it's okay." He held both girls close to his chest and waited for the crying to stop. "It's going to be okay."

"Grima, this is Kaja," he said when the tears slowed. "Kaja lost her mommy and daddy; so she's very sad. She's going to stay with us for a little while, while we find the rest of her family, okay?

"Grima, do you think you could share your bed with Kaja?" The little girl nodded her entire head up and down to show that she would. "That's a good girl. Would you like to show her your room?"

Grima took Kaja's hand and tried to drag her away from Gorrum. Even in the dim light, Agra could see the child's lip tremble.

Agra stooped low and swooped up a child in each hand. Kaja put her arms around Agra's neck and buried her face in the robe.

"I'll grab the candle," Gorrum whispered, and the whole family made their way back to Grima's room.

Gorrum set the candle on a ledge. "I have to change out of my armor and get ready for bed, dear," he whispered to the little Tauren child.

"Don't go!" the little girl gasped, wrapping her arms tightly around the Orc's neck.

"I'm not going far, just into the next room. Grima will stay with you all night, and if you get scared, she can show you where I sleep, okay?"

Gorrum kissed Kaja and stroked her face with the side of his thumb until she relaxed her grip. Then he kissed Grima and Agra before leaving.

"Let's get you ready for bed. You must be very tired; its so late," Agra said, lowering the two to the ground.

Grima stared lovingly at the other little girl. She reached out and stoked her hair. "Your hair is so long... Can I have long hair too, Mommy?"

"You can grow your hair long if you want to, Grima," she said with a smile. Agra helped Kaja undo the antler buttons on her buckskin dress. "Can Kaja wear one of your nightgowns, Grima?"

Grima nodded her entire head. "She can wear the white one."

"You're already wearing the white one. Can she wear the pink one?"

Grima nodded again.

Agra peeled the dusty hide off the child, exposing her tan fur to the candle light.

Grima's eyes went wide with wonder. "Wow! You have a tail!"

Kaja, feeling alone and outcast, started to cry once more. She wrapped her arms around Agra's neck.

Grima, oblivious, reached out and stroked Kaja's tail. "It's so pretty."

Agra kissed Kaja's face and slipped the nightgown over her head.

"Mommy, can I have a tail too?"

Agra scooped the children up and sat them on the side of the bed so that only their feet dangled over the edge.

"Kaja's a Tauren, and Tauren have tails. Tauren have hooves and you have toes." She pinched at one and then the other. "Tauren have fur, and look, up on top of Kaja's head, Tauren have horns."

Agra wiped Kaja's tears with the hem of her robe.

"How about tomorrow, we take some wool cloth that I've saved and make Kaja a doll too? She can have a Tauren doll just like you have an Orc doll. Would you like that?"

A great big nod from Grima; a small, tentative nod from Kaja.

Agra tucked them in and kissed them both. Grima put her arms around the little, Tauren girl.

"Mommy," Grima whispered, "can I have a tail too?"

"I can put your hair in a pony tail. Won't that be pretty?" she whispered back.

A much smaller nod, but a nod, nonetheless.

"Gorrum and I will be in the next room. If you get scared, Grima will be with you. Do you think you'll be okay?"

A small nod, and perhaps the potential for a smile.

Hey guys! This marks the half-way point of the story. Hard to believe we're finally here. I've sure enjoyed telling this tale and I hope you've enjoyed it too.

Part four begins on Monday, but Ky and I are flying to Alabama on Monday morning, so I can have my job interview. I'll post Monday's episode on Sunday night, like I usually do, so no fears there. But at this point, it's anyone's guess as to whether I'll be online before we return on Thursday night.

Will there be more episodes next week? Tune in and find out!

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