Brick And Mortar

Part VI

Fording the Nazferiti
Johnny's Tale
Duskwood
Marriage
The Living Dead
Zasha
Story Hour
The Softest Fur
Rut
The End of the Road
A Scuffle With the Outriders
A Little TLC
Gorrum

Fording the Nazferiti
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

OMG! Final part!

Part VI
Episode 1: Fording the Nazferiti

We cautiously left the home and followed my compass, due South. We didn't waste time sneaking or trying to cover our tracks. Speed was all that really mattered now.

With a pace somewhere between a march and a jog, we crossed through woods, streams, and over roads. With every dog bark, we froze in place, worried that it could be another team, searching for us.

At mid-morning, we hit the river. It was even wider and wilder than the tributary we had crossed earlier. According to the map, there were no bridges across this river for a hundred miles in either direction.

"Dun got 'nuff oil leff. 'Nuff fi maybe one, maybe likkle more," Molthor explained. My heart sank a little. "We mek fi de beach. Sum'un gween 'ave a boat. We teks it, an' cross."

I listened for dogs, worried that we might not have the time. "No, I have a better idea," I said. "Molthor, use all the oil on me." He looked confused, so I insisted, "Do it."

The witchdoctor rubbed the remaining oil over my hooves and performed some arcane gesture over them. "Done, dis," he said.

I picked the little rogue up under one arm and grinned. It was like he weighed nothing. "Get on my back, Molthor. Hurry!"

The Troll climbed aboard and held on like I was a swaying tree. I started to run, out across the water. It was the most weight that I had ever carried, but I didn't care. The water was holding up my weight and I was grinning from ear to ear. I could hear Molthor cheering from my shoulders. "Taz'dingo!" We won. We won.

"If you ever... tell anyone..." I huffed, "that you rode... a Tauren... I will deny it."

We reached the far shore and I literally tossed the two of them onto the banks before collapsing into the cool mud. I rolled over, exhausted; panting, laughing, and crying all at the same time. I just let the sun shine on my mud- coated face and let the tears run down from my eyes. "We did it."

The Troll and Forsaken eventually peeked in on me. I would not have noticed, save for the shadows they cast over my closed eyes. "Yeh gween lay 'bout all a day, Sleepy Bull?"

I put my hands behind my head. "Yup. You might as well set up camp. I've earned a swim."

Johnny crouched down and handed me a small, off-white object.

I sniffed it. "Soap? Where did you...? Did you steal this from the farmer and his wife, or did they...?" I noticed my own aroma. Two weeks without a bath was one thing, but two weeks in armor without a bath was something entirely different. I smelled like a box full of dead things.

"Very subtle, Ma," I chuckled. "Very subtle."

Johnny actually grinned. With as dry as his skin was, the effect was quite ghastly, but it meant a lot to me. More than he realized, I'm certain.

# # #

We retired around the campfire that night to talk and laugh. Johnny had caught some fat rabbits, and Molthor had roasted them on sticks. I had done my part too, and worn the soap down to a little shard that I had saved as a memento.

We couldn't stop smiling, even as we popped the steaming-hot meat into our mouths.

"You may have lived as a Troll and a Forsaken, but you are both my family now." I wished we had some mead to toast our success.

"Me folk gaan be shock," Molthor teased. "Dey know 'bout dem two bwoys, an dem garl, but dey neva guess dey 'ad a Tarren an' a juju-bwoy also."

"You have a brother and sister? You've never mentioned them."

Molthor shrugged. "Mi dun know 'em good, Al'tabin grow me since mi been a li'l pickney. Been fi Zandalar one time, some year back. Me sissa got pickney fi har, now." He didn't appear particularly interested in them, and was quick to change the subject. "Yeh got bruddas an' sissas, Brick?"

I nodded happily. "There were two boys and two girls born on my year."

"Cha, dey barn a same year as you," he said, "dey nah yeh bruddas an' sissas, dat so?"

The Troll was so puzzling with regards to family. "Of course they are. The entire utankan is my family."

He didn't seem to want to press me on it. "'Ow 'bout you, Johnny?" Molthor asked.

Johnny stared into the fire a while. I didn't figure he would say anything.

He surprised me.

---

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---

Johnny's Tale
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Warning: This next little bit is... well... it's not right. It's just wrong. Is it NSFW? I have no idea. It probably shouldn't be read by anyone, whether they are at work, or at home. If I had to label it something, it would be Not Save For Reading Before Bedtime. In fact, it's probably the most f-ed up thing I've written since I finished my first novel. And I hope for your sake that you didn't read that.

If you're smart, you'll give it a miss, and pick up the story with the next episode. I don't think you have to read this bit, or anything. I'm not going to quiz you on it later or something.

For those of you reading on, yeah this is a very different style than the rest of the tale. I wanted to capture Brick's experience, as confusing and disjoint as it was.

Episode 2: Johnny's Tale

If I lived to be twenty, I didn't think I'd ever get used to Johnny's ghost whispers. His voice was less like talking and more like a dying gasp. It wasn't so much that you heard his words or didn't hear, but the images made it into your mind somehow. You saw what he described, even if you didn't really follow how.

I saw them. I saw Johnny with his family. Johnny was young and strong. He wore his hair in a short braid, and smiled easy. He was kneeling in the simple shop that was built-on to their simple home. A wide variety of well cared-for tools were neatly arranged on the wall.

Johnny was assembling a barrel of freshly-dried oak, and laughing at his son's antics. The girl was learning to walk with her mother's help, and the boy was chasing after a toad that was trying to hide in the long grass. They both had their mother's hair; long, brown, and curled.

His wife was a beautiful and deeply religious woman. Not stern, or strict, as you might expect, but she believed that the Lord would protect them in all things.

She cooked the meals, and cleaned the home. She took them to the simple church in the simple town's center, and sang the simple hymns.

She taught the children to pray each night, before bed. The girl was probably too young to understand, but she seemed to enjoy the ritual and the quiet time with her mother.

They held their hands together, and closed their eyes. The boy recited the words he had been taught and the girl mimicked them as best she could. Her mother squeezed her close and encouraged her.

She tucked the children in and kissed them on their foreheads. She closed the door and returned to the master bedroom.

She opened her robe to the moonlight and exposed her bare body for Johnny to see. There was no appeal for me in such a skinny, hairless creature, but there was for Johnny.

Then his hands and lips were on her, and I grew increasingly uncomfortable with the memories he was sharing. He could taste her sweat. He was caressing her softest parts. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his naked body, urging him on. Her lips were on his ear... her tongue... crying out, begging for the release that only he could give her.

I started to feel dizzy and confused. This wasn't right in any way. The line between what he was telling us and my own thoughts was blurred. The emotions were right, but the sights and smells were wrong. They tumbled over and over, hot and sweaty in the moonlight. I was there, and so was Kaja.

Kaja was naked and beautiful. My hands were upon her, my lips. I wanted her so badly that I could not think straight. She was in my arms, strong and muscular. I was holding her to me. I would do anything for her. I needed her so badly.

The lovers were tumbling over one another. Human parts and Tauren parts were co-mingling in impossible and ludicrous ways. Was it my mind spinning, or were the bodies? It was a dizzying jumble of desire and lust.

Then they were apart, Johnny and his wife. They were laying side-by-side, slicked with sweat in the summer moonlight. He was out of breath, and she spoke of how she would love him forever.

I felt out of breath too. More than that, I was uncomfortable and out of place. I wanted nothing more than to run from the circle of firelight, to flee. But I I felt frozen to the spot in which I sat.

Then it was day and he was laying in bed alone, still slicked with sweat, but now woozy and ill. The children were there, beside the bed, asking if daddy would be alright.

The priest was there, saying prayers and reassuring Johnny's wife.

She tried to make him eat. She tried to get him to drink. But he was too weak, too tired. The smell of food made his tumbling stomach hurt more. He was wasting away.

Day and night and day and the dim of dusk. Everything was confusing and vague, hot and sweaty. The house smelled wrong. The fresh air had a tinge of decay.

He was out of breath again. They were tumbling on the bedsheets again. Her legs were wrapped around him.

She was crying out in his ear, begging for release. His hands and lips were upon her. Gripping. Tasting.

In some ineffable way, I was there still. It was my hands on Kaja's body, my lips on her fur, her screams in my ear. I didn't want this, but I did. I hungered for her in a way that I never had before. I needed her like I had never needed anything else. I felt the madness.

Then they were apart, Johnny and his wife. Lying side-by-side and slicked wet in the summer moonlight. He was out of breath again.

He could hear the drips. Drip. Drip. Drip. Rubies sparkling in the moonlight. Crimson drips splishing into a large puddle under the bed.

The sound was maddening; the endlessness of it.

He could feel his humanity dripping away...

Leaving him, blessedly, without conscience...

Leaving him with the final memories of his loving family...

The sound of their screams...

The taste of their flesh...

# # #

We didn't talk any more that night.

I couldn't sleep.

---

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

Episode 3: Duskwood

We didn't talk the next day either.

I cared a lot for Johnny, and although I could never really understand what he had been through, I got the general gist of it.

The Lich King had released The Plague upon the humans and turned them into the Scourge, an army of mindless monsters. The Plague ruined not only the people, but the land too. Those that were not killed, fled in horror.

It took years before some of the undead could break free of his control, and proclaim themselves the "Forsaken". If anything, it was a mercy that he could not remember his days as Scourge. No one needs to know what sorts of things he had done during that time.

The Lich King had left some of his Scourge here in Duskwood. This was not an army. These were not his reserves. The Scourge that remained here were a residue; forgotten and aimless. They were like armed bear traps left behind by a careless hunter.

In a way, that was good. They would not be organized. They would not be looking for us. But if they found us... well, it was best not to think about that possibility.

I wanted to lead the party South, around the Scourge, but I was finding this increasingly difficult. I felt hot and irritable. I wanted to take off my armor and sling it over my shoulder.

What was wrong with me? Was it Johnny's disturbing story? Was it the lack of sleep?

No, I didn't think so. I had been fighting this feeling for a while, now. I felt distracted and fuzzy.

I really wanted this quest to be done. I didn't want to tell anyone what to do anymore. I was tired of being responsible all the time. I needed to go back to Orgrimmar, and to see Kaja again.

I know that sounds cliché, but I was finding it hard to think of anything else. I closed my eyes, and she was there. And even when my eyes were open, I found my mind was thinking about her, instead of the danger around us.

Something had to change. If I didn't do something soon, I was going to get us all killed. I was sure of that.

# # #

"Johnny, do you think you can lead us through Duskwood?"

He looked up at me with what I can only guess was surprise.

Molthor's painted face looked positively pale in the campfire's glow. "Ya t'ink dat wise?"

If anything, Johnny's story had rattled the Troll even more than it had rattled me. But I had been with the rogue longer, and I honestly believed that he had come around. I knew that I could trust him. Molthor was not quite so ready.

"I'm not sure. But if Johnny is spotted by Scourge, then they may not see him as a threat. They may assume he is one of them. Neither you nor I can pull that off."

Plus, I wanted to add, I've been daydreaming ever since we crossed the Nazferiti...

Johnny thought a long time before giving me a solemn nod. I looked to Molthor. He thought even longer than the Forsaken before nodding.

"Good." I rolled out the map. "I think we're right about here. There's a road to the South, and Raven Hill is here.

"The Alliance lost Raven Hill to the Scourge years ago, so it's safe to assume that it's still occupied. Either way, we'll need to give it a wide berth.

"Get us to that road without being spotted by Scourge, and we should be in Stranglethorn Vale in no time at all."

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

Episode 4: Marriage

Neat. Johnny's story set a record number of hits for people checking it out on the day it was posted. I guess there's a lot of Johnny fans out there. Clearly I need to do more undead stuff.

In other news, you guys are going to be soooo angry.

There's an upcoming episode that's a heck of a cliffhanger. It's probably the most hangy of the cliffhangers in the entire story. I knew it when I wrote it. That's a good thing!

But what I did not realize, at the time, was that it was going to be a Friday episode.

This Friday, in fact.

So, um...

Enjoy! :)

We traveled during the day and set up camp at night. Between the long summer days and a determined pace, we were making great progress.

And from what we could see, it seemed that Johnny was doing a fine job. He would scout ahead, and then wait for us to catch up. Occasionally, he would wait at the top of a hill and signal left or right as we approached.

After three days of travel, we encountered our first resistance. Despite the care that Johnny had taken to steer us around danger, a group of four ghouls wandered right into us.

I actually did smell them coming. Ghouls stink like bloated corpses, and the stench is enough to turn your stomach. But unlike many of the Scourge, ghouls move quickly. They swing their arms in wide arcs as they run.

By the time we noticed them, it was too late to escape. They had spotted us.

Unlike Johnny, ghouls aren't so much the reanimated dead. It's more like they are living creatures that have been created from pieces of the dead. The Lich King's alchemists built the creatures for clearing out unarmed towns.

From what I could see, ghouls were equal parts teeth, claws, and appetite, but intelligence doesn't appear to be in the recipe. If you handed a ghoul a sword, it would probably put it in its mouth. They don't use weapons, and they would attack even if the enemy outnumbered them a hundred to one.

Needless to say, they were little match for three well-armed fighters.

We dispatched them easily enough, and thanked our good fortune that we had someone like Johnny to keep watch. It was easy to imagine how the fight could have gone, had they attacked while we slept.

# # #

I looked up when I noticed the Troll was speaking.

"Y'got hard ears." The campfire reflected off his blue face-paint, giving him an other-worldly look.

"I was listening! I was." I tried to remember what he had said, but couldn't. "Okay, I guess I'm a little distracted."

Molthor grinned with his eyes. I had been around him long enough now to learn his visual cues. Having large tusks changes a lot of things that you might not otherwise guess. "Dun need fi tell me 'oo ya t'inkin' 'bout. S'all ovah y'face."

I put my hands to my face for a moment, before realizing it was a metaphor. I smiled and drooped my ears in embarrassment.

"Gween wed dis garl back in Orgrimmah, right?"

"Wed?"

"Yeh, orc way a dis; ya lib togedda."

Ooh, living together. That sounded nice. I'd be able to see her every day. "Do you... do you think she'd want to?"

"'Ow mi know? Neva seen dis garl!" The witchdoctor cocked his head and stared at me. "But she gib ya dis locks 'air, dat so? Muss mean sumt'in'."

I opened the hand that was holding the lock. I held it to my nose and breathed deeply. It had been so long since I last saw her. The scent was getting faint; the hair was smelling more like my bedroll and less like Kaja.

I imagined her smile. I imagined watching her face while she slept. "I guess I'll ask her when I get back..."

Molthor shook his head. "Mi dun t'ink it work dis way. Ya s'pose fi ask har fadda, Sleepy Bull." He shrugged. "Yeh, dis righted. T'ink fi 'im say-so."

"I spoke to her dad before I left Orgrimmar. I wanted to know if I should buy a gun, but instead he told me a lot about Kaja growing up. It was really confusing." I scratched my head. "Do you suppose he thought I was asking if I could wed her?"

"Dunno. What 'im say?"

"Something about sharpening his axe, and an old maid. Oh, and that he cheated her somehow. Does that mean anything to you?"

Molthor shrugged and looked at Johnny. Johnny shrugged too.

"Well, he did say that I should talk to Kaja and spend time with her. That part was pretty clear."

Molthor smiled again and slapped my shoulder in a brotherly fashion. "Dere. Ask 'im, mon. Seem like 'im easy widdit."

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The Living Dead
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 5: The Living Dead

A few days later, we made it to the road. I'm sure it had a name at one point, but I didn't know what that was.

This was no simple cart path. It would have taken years, or even decades to cut and place all the millions of cobblestones that stretched from Moonbrook to Darkshire, and to build all the culverts that kept the rain from washing it out.

I suppose it sounds silly that I'm waxing on about a road, but seeing it really helped put the war into perspective for me. Oh, we had seen a few abandoned villages here in Duskwood, but that didn't make so much of an impression on me. My people are nomadic and we "abandon" our villages several times a year.

My people don't have any real roads, but if we did, they would be nothing like this. This was the sort of construction that civilizations undertook when they lived in the same place for centuries. When the humans left, they abandoned an entire country -- not just a remote outpost, but a land where people must have lived for generations. They abandoned infrastructure and trade routes.

It was really quite grim, when you thought about it.

# # #

I felt safer walking on the Duskwood road than I had crossing over the roads in Westfall or Elwynn Forest. I figured that no men would be patrolling this land.

In a way, I was right. The patrol we encountered two days later were a half-dozen strong -- skeletons armed with swords.

It was eerie fighting with such impossible creatures. They had no muscles anchored to their bones, but still they moved somehow. They charged at us from out of the darkness and I swung my axe in wide arcs, to keep them back. I caught two of them that moved too close and cut them cleanly in two.

The severed pelvises rattled around on the ground, helplessly, but the torsos did not stop. They grabbed the swords they had dropped and continued to crawl towards us. I had to take a step backwards with each swing, just to keep both sets at bay.

Johnny tried to fight them, but despite his skill, his daggers were useless against the fleshless fiends. They had no guts to spill, no arteries to open, no blood to poison, and no tendons to cut. When it was clear that he could not help, he fell in behind me, to keep out of the way.

Molthor on the other hand, was invaluable while fighting the skeletons. His magic blasted the enemy back, and tore limbs from bodies. He opened the holes in their forces, and provided the opportunity for me to get in and cut them down.

Soon, all six of them were freed from their legs, and reduced to crawling. An unexpected glee came over me and I chopped them to little shards. I chopped them until they couldn't crawl, and then I chopped them more. I couldn't explain, but the mindless violence was so liberating. I didn't want it to end.

Molthor put a hand on my shoulder and dragged me away from the pile of shattered bones. "Dey dead, Sleepy Bull."

"They were dead before they attacked us!" I bellowed at him.

"Mi sayin'," the Troll said slowly, "we clear now."

I nodded. "Clear." I stripped off my hauberk and laid down on the road.

Molthor squatted down next to me and Johnny stood nearby to keep watch. "Ya fine, Sleepy Bull?"

I nodded and closed my eyes. "I'm hot. Why is it so hot here?"

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

Episode 6: Zasha

I'd like to insert a special thank-you to ghostmoon who was kind enough to loan me her character, Zasha. Hopefully I managed to portray her in a favorable light.

The next day, we hit a fork in the road that led us South. We were home free. I could feel it.

The days passed and the trees grew denser. We began to see vines and ferns. There were birds singing here. The most we had heard in Duskwood was the unearthly calls of ravens.

"We mek in Stranglet'arn yet? T'ink we muss be." Molthor said.

I tried to find any landmarks on the map, but the more I stared, the more it looked like chicken scratchings. I handed the parchment to the witchdoctor, and he grabbed it out of my hands.

We were almost home. I was done navigating. I was done leading.

"Mi t'ink we be," Molthor said as he studied the map. "Muss be rope span fi dere Naz'friti. We see dat, den we be in Stranlet'arn fa real."

Molthor amused me. He was acting like a little calf. With each hill, he dashed to the top to try and get a better view.

He didn't seem to take much of an interest in any of the people in his life, but he was so excited about being home. Although I clearly wanted to be back for different reasons, I couldn't really blame him. If I were this close to Orgrimmar, I would be bouncing down the trail too.

"Dere! Dere!" he shouted. He dashed away and Johnny and I jogged to catch up.

There indeed was a wide rope bridge over the Nazferiti. The river was deep, and fast-flowing, through a relatively narrow gap in the rocks. Mid-way across the bridge was a Tauren woman with a wolf, fishing over the edge with a pole.

Molthor had run to the far end of the bridge and was on his hands and knees, kissing the ground. The woman waved at us and I waved back.

"Your friend sure seems happy," she said as we approached.

"He's glad to be back," I explained. "My name's Brick. This is Johnny. That's Molthor over there."

She smiled and shook my hand. "Zasha," she said, "I call my wolf 'Underfoot'." She scritched the big grey beast on its neck and it cuddled up close to her. He took no interest in either of us.

She was cute and curvy. Her fur was all-white, and contrasted sharply with her long, black mane and tail tip. Her short horns were dark, and lightened near the tips. She smelled nice.

"What are you staring at? Haven't you seen a fishing pole, before?"

I smiled at her. "A friend of mine had one, but he never showed me how it worked."

It was a fascinating gadget. She even showed me how to use it. She held her warm hand over mine and I tried to cast the line, but hook caught on my tail. Pulling the barb out was not a pleasant experience.

"It's harder than it looks," I admitted. "I think I'll stick to fishing with nets."

When Molthor got tired of waiting, he approached us on the bridge. "Mus go."

"Where you boys headed?" Zasha asked.

"Yojamba Isle."

"Juba'jin," Molthor corrected me. "Fishin' village, dis. From dere, we tek dem boat fi Yojamba."

"Okay, Juba'jin, apparently."

"Oh, I know where that is. It's about a day's walk from here. You won't make it before dark," she said.

Zasha sized up the string of fish she had strung from the bridge. "Y'know, I may have caught more than I can eat. If one of you would like to gut them, I could share..."

Molthor's jaw dropped open. I didn't need to ask him what he thought of the idea. "For a bite of fish, I would carry you to your campsite!" I told her.

Then she did the most peculiar thing. She grabbed my left butt-cheek for a moment and winked at me before heading off down the bridge. "C'mon, Underfoot, let's go," she told the big wolf.

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

Episode 7: Story Hour

I hurried to catch up with Zasha and fell into step beside her. Her bright leather armor didn't match, but she didn't seem like the sort of person who would care. In fact, it seemed to suit her well.

She wore a rifle across her back, and a small hunting knife on her hip. She traveled remarkably light, without even a bedroll to her name. She had a sunny sort of the-world-will-provide personality too. With her colorful armor and bright white fur, she almost seemed to glow from within.

"So what are you doing here, in Stranglethorn Vale?" I asked.

"Hunting," she said. "There's an old kook named Nessingwary who's set up camp by the banks of the Nazferiti. He'll buy the hide of any critter bigger than a squirrel."

"So you're out here alone? What about your utankan? Where are they?"

"I'm never alone! Underfoot goes everywhere with me." She smiled her sunny smile up at me. "Besides, bulls are so infuriating this time of year. They're always fighting and showing off. Everywhere you look, they're trying to get in your face. It just makes you want to scream, you know?"

I had no idea what she was talking about, so I nodded and smiled.

"I prefer guys who are more independent, less worried about what others think of them." She kicked idly at a rock with her hoof and sent it flying. "So what are you doing out here, Brick?"

"It's a long story."

"Good." She grinned. "I like long stories."

# # #

I pulled my hauberk over my head and sighed in relief. "I've been sleeping in my armor for... I don't even know how long. It feels so good to get that off." I folded it carefully up and began unbuckling the rest of it.

"So let me get this straight," Zasha said from the log she sat on, "A human woman, whose own daughter you killed -- even though you were holding her prisoner in her own home -- helped sew up your wounds?"

I nodded as I put away the last of my armor.

"That's just crazy. If someone was holding me prisoner, there's no way I'd help them sew up their wounds. Forget that!" she laughed.

"Well, to be fair," I explained, "I think I was making her angry by bleeding all over her house. She probably figured that the sooner I was mended, the less mess she would have to clean up."

Zasha snorted and gripped her sides in laughter. "No way. That's funny, but I don't believe it. No one cares about cleaning that much."

"Oh no? Johnny," I said, pointing at the rogue, "before we left, what did she give you to give me?"

Johnny's creepy, air-escaping voice answered, "Soap."

"That's right, a bar of soap." I put my hands on my hips to protest her disbelief. "I slept all day in this woman's house, laying in a puddle of my own blood, stinking like a ghoul, and she gives me a bar of soap.

"Hang on!" I opened my bedroll and pulled out the sliver that I had saved.

She put it up to her nose and sniffed. "Human-made soap? You're serious, aren't you?"

I nodded and she wiped some tears from her eyes. "I'm glad I ran into you guys. I would never have believed this story if it had been told by anyone else."

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The Softest Fur
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Warning: Possibly NSFW. Sorry, guys, but hey, it's a holiday anyhow. Who's at work?

Episode 8: The Softest Fur

The sun had gone down and the fire was dying. The crickets were competing, trying to out-sing one another.

I laid down on my bedroll and propped my head up with one hand. Zasha was laying on her elbows, in the grass beside me. She was picking through clover, occasionally flicking one my way. It was silly behavior that made me grin.

I brushed them off the blanket, and back onto the grass.

"What did you wrap that fish in? It was so strange and delicious."

"Fadeleaf," she said with a smile. "It grows all over Stranglethorn. It's tasty, and it's full of vitamins. Oh, and if you squeeze out the oil, you can even make a few potions with it."

I wanted to ask her more about the potions, but my mind was feeling fuzzy again. I told myself I was tired from the long journey, but I didn't feel the least bit sleepy.

Zasha grabbed a big handful of clover and then scooted over close to me. She sprinkled them slowly over my head. "Such strange weather we have here in Stranglethorn," she whispered.

Her breath was hot and sweet on my face.

I eased myself closer to her and she leaned in to me. I closed my eyes and our lips met. They were so soft and wonderful.

I put my arm around her and pulled her close. Her body felt so warm next to mine.

She slid her tongue inside of my mouth. I took it gently in my lips. It was so nice. Thinking was so hard now that I didn't even try.

I slid my hand inside her untied vest, and cupped her breast. So wonderful and perfect. Her hands were on both sides of my face, softly pulling me closer.

I felt so hot. I was stripping off my clothing. I didn't need it. She was taking hers off as well. Underfoot looked up at us a moment, before yawning and curling back up to sleep.

I pulled her close and slid my hand down her back, caressing her soft fur. She put one arm beneath me and the other on one of my buttocks, gripping it tightly. She pulled her naked hips up against my own.

I was in heaven. I put my hand around the base of her tail and gripped it tight. She made a wonderful little sound, that I could not describe. She took my lower lip lightly in her teeth, and ran her tongue across it.

I rolled on top of the little, white cow and she wrapped her muscular legs around my waist. I kissed her neck and savored the soft smell of her ears.

Then I trailed kisses down her neck, to her collar bone, and to her breasts. I cupped the soft pillows in my hands and licked her nipples gently. She sat up slightly and caressed my head. Her lips were on my ear, whispering, urging me on.

I worked my way farther down, kissing her ribs, and then her stomach. I put my tongue in her belly button.

Then I scooped my arms beneath her. She put her legs around my neck. She ran her fingers through my hair, and my kisses lined her belly.

I wanted her so badly.

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Rut
Index: [Previous] [First]

Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 9: Rut

Do you guys have any idea how much fun I get out of picking where the episode breaks are?

No, probably not!

In other news, this is the last week of Brick & Mortar. The final episode is on Friday.

Waaaaaaah! I'm gonna' miss posting for you. :(

"Oh, Brick!" she gasped.

"Cha! What'n bloodfiah y'two dween?" Molthor shouted.

As quick as a shot, the Troll hopped over the dying campfire and was pulling me back by my right horn.

Hrm. How do I put this?

You don't do that.

You don't grab another guy by his horns; not unless you hate having teeth, that is.

Oh, now if a cow were to do it, then that would be something totally different. If Zasha had grabbed both of my horns and maneuvered my face into a spot where she wanted it, well that would have been quite all right. In fact, it would have been far more than "all right"!

But this tale isn't about what I would have liked to have happen. Sadly.

No, this story is about what did happen; and while I'm talking about it, let me just say that I do feel pretty bad about this. Orcs probably couldn't understand just what it's like to be in rut. Oh, they may nod and grin, but until you've experienced it, you just couldn't imagine it.

When a bull is in rut, there's only two things on his mind; one is the tender little gal who's moaning your name, and the other is beating on the other bulls until your arms feel like they'll fall out of their sockets. That's it. As opposite as they may seem, those were the only two things I wanted right then.

And they were both equally appealing.

I leapt to my hooves and I bellowed as loud as I could. Zasha had to scramble away, just to keep from being trampled by 800 pounds of enraged Tauren. I would have liked to yell some obscenities at the Troll, but I couldn't form words right then. The noise that came out of me, and shook all the birds from their nests, that was the purest representation of my thoughts.

I lowered my horns at Molthor and charged.

I talk now and then about how smooth Johnny is, but I don't think I ever gave the Troll proper credit. In one single motion, the witchdoctor planted a bare foot on the flat of my face. I bucked up reflexively, and the shaman spring-boarded up high into the tree branches, like some sort of side-show act.

I crashed into the brush, but was right back out, standing under where I saw him last. "Fight like a man!" I howled up into the darkness.

I remember seeing an inky black shadow detach from the gloom overhead. I couldn't make it out until Molthor's right heel connected with my left cheek.

Then I was on the ground, shaking my head, trying to regain my senses.

I looked up to see the Troll standing by his gear, now with his staff in hand. He shouted at me, "Mi bet dey callin' you Brick caa dat all is in yeh nappy 'ead!"

I charged at him, but found only open air where he had been standing. The witchdoctor was spinning overhead with staff in hand. He brought it down hard with both hands, landing the staff's head square on the back of my left kidney.

The pain was spectacular and radiating. I stumbled as I ran. I felt groggy and it took a few moments for me to untangle my horns from a bush.

"What is it with you Trolls?" I grunted. "Why do you try to take all the females for yourselves?"

"Bloodclot! Woulda gone back fi Orgrimmah 'sif nuttin' eva happen," Molthor spat.

I charged at him and he landed the staff on my right temple. My vision was replaced with flashes of different-colored lights, and I could feel my face plowing into the dirt, eventually stopping my forward motion.

I heard him behind me, jabbering like a monkey in a tree. "Den when Kaja ask what yeh dit in de Eastlands, yeh woulda said datcha met a ready cow. Datcha hung har knickers from ya horns an' rode har 'round de campfiah shoutin', 'hi ho, Mulgore!'"

My body felt so heavy. Climbing to my knees took an astonishing amount of effort.

"Da all-seer was right. Fate put mi 'ere, Sleepy Bull. Yeh needs mi fi be right 'ere, right now."

With no small amount of effort, I stood upright and loomed over the Troll. This fight would have gone so much better if I had been wearing my armor. Any clothes at all would have been nice.

"Give me that staff," I grunted like an animal, "I'm going to stick it..."

He gave it to me all right. Right in what Trolls call the mojo bag.

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The End of the Road
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 10: The End of the Road

It was still dark when I awoke, but the fire had burned out.

"I hurt..." I moaned.

"Mos def," the Troll beside me sighed. "Mi 'ope yeh caa tek mi sorry some day, Sleepy Bull."

"Where's Zasha?" I asked.

"Frocked," he replied, "an' on har weh."

I groaned again and the Troll nodded. He summoned a healing totem. "Y'caa sleep wit' dis."

# # #

No one was in a talkative mood the next day.

Family can be that way. You love them, and you want to bash their brains out with a rock.

We walked to Juba'jin and hitched a lift to Yojamba Isle. Before I knew it, I was back at the sweat lodge, with shovel in hand. I looked up to see Al'tabin squatting beside the hole.

"Molthor said y'back."

I nodded. "The sweat lodge collapsed. You guys get so much rain here..."

Al'tabin put his hand on my shoulder. Even though I was rested, healed, and fed, something inside of me... something deep down in my soul was tired, broken, and miserably neglected. I was at the end of my journey, but instead of rejoicing... I just felt dead. I let my shoulders sag and the shovel fall.

"It was a very long journey," I explained.

He smiled at me in a grand-fatherly sort of way, and smiled. "I'm proud a you."

His voice sounded like one I had heard so long ago, back when I was just a calf. A familiar scent made me smile.

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A Scuffle With the Outriders
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 11: A Scuffle With the Outriders

Gorrum was not a difficult man to find. The first city sentry I asked pointed me to the Valley of Honor.

The sergeant's outriders were circled around the practice field, repeating their drills endlessly as Gorrum walked among them, yelling orders. "Again!" "Throw him!" "In the neck, not the chest!"

He saw me enter his circle and his face split open with a wide, froggy grin. "Brick!" he yelled, "I thought you had gone back to Mulgore by now."

I kept walking directly to him. Some of his men stopped their training to turn and watch. "I want to wed your daughter, Gorrum."

"Oh, do you now?" A silence fell over the field. All of them turned to watch. A few hooted and whistled in excitement.

Gorrum peeled off his shirt and tossed it to the edge of the circle.

"Yes, sir," I replied. "I like her and I think she likes me too."

"Well, we'll see about this." He stripped off his boots and tossed them aside. "Put up your fists, Brick."

"I'm not going to fight you, sir." Of all the reactions I could have expected, this would be the last.

"Oh yes, you will." He put up his fists and started circling around me. He tossed a couple test punches to see how I would react.

I moved to the side a little to avoid them.

"If you want my daughter, then you will fight me. It's the Orcish way for three very important reasons." He grunted in frustration. "Put up your fists, dammit!"

He jabbed me hard in the gut and I took it. I didn't want to hurt anyone, especially not someone important to Kaja.

"First off," he said, "we have this tradition so that I can reject you. If I don't think you'd be good enough for my daughter, then I can beat on you for as long as it takes to make you change your mind."

As quick as a thought, he crossed with his left and then his right, both square to my chin. The pain burst through my jaw like an explosion. I put both hands over my mouth and cursed into my palms.

The outriders cheered him on.

"I like you, Brick. You don't have much to worry about there." He grinned at me. "I think you and Kaja would make a great couple."

He landed a heavy upper-cut to my gut. He moved really quick, and hit very hard.

I put up my open hands, not to fight him, but to ward off additional blows. "Um, thank you, sir," I grunted, not quite sure of how I should react.

"The second reason is that it gives you a chance to demonstrate your strength to me. Show me some fists, damn you," he growled. "If you want to prove that you can take care of my little girl, then you better land some punches!"

I sighed and balled my fists. I took a tentative swing at his head, but he ducked easily around it. His men booed my weak performance. "Okay, so what's the third reason?"

He kicked me in the stomach and I doubled over in pain.

"The third reason is a reminder," he whispered in my ear. "You're going to remember this beating for a lifetime," he said, "even if it takes me all day to deliver it."

He brought his knee up hard, into my left eye. Stars and streamers shot through my vision as I fell to the ground. Someone was cheering, somewhere.

"This is a tiny taste of what my men and I will do to you, if you ever hurt my baby girl."

He kicked me in the gut.

"Now get up and fight."

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A Little TLC
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Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Probably SFW.

Episode 12: A Little TLC

It was early in the evening before I could make my way back to Kaja's shop.

My left eye was swollen shut, so I navigated with my squinting right. Kaja was just closing up shop for the day.

"Can I help...?" she said, as she looked up from her sweeping. "Brick?"

I can't recall what she was wearing. I couldn't take my eyes off of her beautiful face. My heart was racing and my stomach tumbled. She burst into tears and rushed to me, throwing her arms around my neck.

"Oh Brick! I thought you were dead. I hadn't heard any word in months." She was sobbing now, clutching me tight.

I held her too. Despite all her muscles, she felt so soft and warm to my touch. I couldn't remember ever holding anything as soft as her.

Her ribs throbbed with each gut-wrenching sob. "Don't cry. Oh, please don't cry. I'm alright," I told her.

"No, you're not! Look at you!" She let go and put her calloused hands gently to my face. "Why? Why is it that every time you leave, you come back looking like this?" The emotion in her voice was so pure. The pain so evident. "Where will it end?"

I shrugged and tried to smile, but I could taste a lot of blood. I was sure my teeth were stained red, so I kept them hidden.

"Come with me." She grabbed me by the hand and dragged me along, up the circular ramp that connected her shop to her apartment. Despite all the time we had spent together, I had never been in her home before. I didn't take my eyes off of her, but my blood-encrusted nose feasted on the scents.

I wish I could describe the sensation! It was like I was entering her den and the smells here were all-things-Kaja.

I could smell her, and the clothes she wore. I could smell her personal treasures, and the possessions that reminded her of Agra and Gorrum. I could smell the letter that Innkeeper Thulbek had written for me. I could smell her work and her tools from the shop below. I could actually smell her passion for the things that she built, and the business she loved.

It was like I was wrapped in a warm cocoon of Kaja-scents.

"You're such a mess..." I could see the pain on her face. I hurt, but seeing the pain she felt was the only ache I could sense.

She peeled off my vest and guided me down onto her bed. It was the most wonderful sensation I had ever felt. It was like lying on a cloud. The mattress was lined with down and I sunk deep into its depths. Soft linen cloths were layered on top, scented with... I don't know what. They smelled like Mulgore during the rain.

The smell of Kaja's hair and sweat were in the pillow. I closed my eyes and drew it all in.

A soft oilskin lined the bottom third of the bed. It held my weary feet at just the perfect angle. I thought I would melt away into sleep.

Then Kaja was at my side, wiping my face with soft cotton cloth that she had dipped in cool water. "Oh, baby," she whispered, "you look like you went through a meat-grinder."

"That's a bit how it feels too. I think his arms got tired during the beating." I chuckled a little and felt a stitch of pain in my ribs. "Mostly he hit my gut. I think he got tired of reaching up to my face. Your father's a lot stronger than he looks."

Kaja froze in place. She wore the sort of expression that would follow being hit with a club. "Daddy? Daddy did this to you?"

I nodded happily. I felt free, as light as a bird. "He said I could wed you."

More stunned silence. Tears were streaming down her face.

"Well, if you want to that is..." My heart was in free-fall. I hoped that I hadn't done all this for nothing.

"Oh, Brick!" she gasped, and wrapped her arms around me.

I buried my face into her soft neck; and it was wonderful. I kissed my aching lips to her soft fur, once, and again. "I've missed you so much, for so long," I said. "I've thought of nothing else."

She sat up and stared at me. Her ears were laid down flat, so tragic. He face was so wet with tears.

I brushed them away with my thumbs. "I thought perhaps..." It had been so long. I tried to remember the phrase. "I thought that perhaps I could take you out?"

She shook her head no, and slowly pulled her blouse up over her head. Her body was so beautiful, so perfect. I put my hands up, to pull her close.

She put her lips to my ear and whispered so softly. "No, Brick, I think we should stay in."

Then her lips were pressed against mine. Our tongues caressed one another. Our bodies were tumbling gently over and over.

The little clothing we wore was discarded. Lips and tongues, exploring and caressing. I savored the little sounds she made, as if they were the finest meal ever cooked. Pleasure, and passion, and love.

She filled my mind and my senses. I could see, feel, smell, touch, taste, and remember nothing else.

Even the beating that I was never to forget was forgotten. Kaja was my world, and her soft body was my temple.

When our muscles could give no more, we wrapped our arms around one another. Panting, dripping with sweat, and listening to each other's heartbeats, we drifted off towards a gentle oblivion of dreams... dreams of our future together.

"I will love you..." I whispered ever so quietly to her.

"Forever," she completed not just my thought, but me.

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Gorrum
Index: [Previous] [First]

Brick and Mortar
A World of Warcraft Story by Gre7g Luterman

Episode 13: Gorrum

Fall was in the air.

The leaves don't change here, but the winds shift. I was reclining in the sand with my back propped up on a small pile so I could look out across the surf.

I know it sounds stupid, but some of the best things in life are really dumb. I found that there were few things I enjoyed more than really squishing yourself into the cool sand and letting it get up under your tail.

Dumb, I know. But I could lay on the sand and watch the surf for hours.

Kaja curled up closer. I put my arm around her and gave her a squeeze. I breathed in the scent from her hair and grinned stupidly.

There was no denying the power she had over me. Just one sniff and everything seemed like it was going to be all right; that nothing bad could ever hurt us. I know it's a lie, but it's a lie that I grab with both hands, and I gladly ask for seconds.

Even when she infuriates me, as she often does, Kaja makes me deliriously happy.

I put my thumb and primary finger on one of her horns and gave it a wiggle. I could see her roll her eyes. She reached up and grabbed my right horn tight, and pulled my chin down to my chest, lifting some of her weight off of me.

She's so damn naughty.

I grabbed her bare butt-cheek and gave it a good squeeze. She giggled.

"I've got a patrol tomorrow. Just to the Mizjah ruins and back. Should be home by morning," I told her.

She sat up and worried at her lower lip a bit. "Crap. I'm smelting steel tomorrow. It's going to be a crazy day. Did you see how much ore the Goblins delivered?" She sighed deeply. "I'm exhausted just thinking about it."

I put my hand to her cheek and she smiled. "Every day's a busy day when you're Grom'gol's only gunsmith, right?"

She tilted her head and I closed my eyes. The kiss we shared was deep and passionate.

"Ew... kissing!" yelled a little voice over the sound of the waves. The little tan and brown Tauren boy ducked beneath a wave only to pop up behind it. "Rawr!" he yelled, making claw-hands in the air.

Part of me hoped that he would never outgrow the "monster stage". It was adorable, even if it was growing increasingly hard to come up with fresh and exciting bedtime stories each night.

"Don't you swim out too far!" I shouted. "The murlocs will get you! I've seen them do it!"

Gorrum spun around to look for signs of monsters. I wasn't crazy about naming the boy after Kaja's dad. I wanted to name the calf after Urlug or Molthor; but Kaja was right to point out that although those two friends meant a lot to me, they weren't really part of her life.

Kaja's dad, on the other hand, meant a lot to us both.

Slowly, a dead, clawed hand emerged from the surf on one side of the boy. Another dead hand emerged on his other side.

"A murloc!" I cried. Kaja put a hand over her face and shook her head.

Gorrum looked this way and that. He bleated in surprise as the hands grabbed him and slowly lifted him from the surf.

The calf struggled and his wet tail swung wildly as he tried to free himself from the Forsaken's grip.

"He's getting strong, isn't he?"

Johnny nodded at me.

"Throw me! Throw me! Throw me!" the child shrieked.

You'd never guess it by looking at him, but Johnny was a natural with kids. It probably helped that he didn't ever scold them.

He grabbed the calf by one arm and leg, and carried him near the shore. Then he swung him wide and Gorrum screamed with glee, "No! Owa! Halii!" The boy flew long and made a big splash among the waves.

"Again! Again!" I heard him sputter as he struggled to swim back to shore.

"We're both going to be busy tomorrow. Would you mind keeping an eye on the calf?"

Johnny nodded and smiled.

"But no ghost stories."

"Aw... But Johnny tells them the best!" the boy bleated.

"Absolutely not." I stood and scooped the wriggling boy up with one arm, gave him a bear hug, and handed him to his mother. She squeezed him close to her heart with her powerful arms.

They walked hand-in-hand back to out hut on the edge of the beach. Her copper anklet glinted in the sun. Even after a year together, her tail still hypnotized me.

I slapped Johnny on the back and put my arm around his shoulders. "Can you stick around for dinner?"

He nodded and I smiled.

Fin

Well, that's the long and short of Brick and Johnny's story. It took quite a while to tell it, but I hope you found it worth the time. I sure enjoyed telling it.

Take a moment to leave a message. Did you like it? Would you rather I had done it differently? If I write another, what would you like to read?

I'm not real sure what I'm gonna' do next, but I may post a non-WoW story. It's a pretty good tale, but since it's not WoW fanfic, I won't be posting links on wow_ladies or wow_fanart. If you'd like to follow it, you might want to friend me now...

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