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[oaken-bulwark]

Orc concepts Source: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/LPBeA By: https://www.artstation.com/berniekang

[oaken-bulwark]

Send me a ❂ for my character's reaction to a slap on the ass from yours. - Kraesh. I'd also like to add that sometimes he forgets that she's a third his size.

She was coming around, not so distant in the recent days. From time to time he’d get to see a spark of the Paijwen he knew, the leader of their sect of Pathfinder, and the Hound he’d fought side by side with. It was easy to forget that she had worked as a monster, easy to fall back into old habits, and when she’d made a snarky remark to him about the way he seared their dinner, the laughter came natural. 

The moved about camp as if they’d lived there forever. He never left her side, and hadn’t since he’d caught up with her in the Ghostlands. A witty remark to the snark, a few more verbal blows all in good fun, and when she walked passed him with a hip-check, his palm smacked flatly against her ass. She few a few good feet, skidding to a halt as she looked over her shoulder at him.

He offered a large, sheepish grin and a comment about ‘not knowing his own strength’. Despite herself, she laughed some more and moved over to him, placing a hand against his chest with a pat. “I don’t think you could ever forget your own strength, Kraesh. But maybe you forget about my size once in awhile.”

A wink was offered to him. A flirt? Had she done so recently? No. Which meant that there was hope. She was less focused on the hunt, and more on being more… Sin’dorei. More Paijwen.

[oaken-bulwark]

Orc by Svetlana Tebyakina

[oaken-bulwark]

Captioned with a simple “EHEHEHEHEHEH.”

The parchment caught her off guard, the drawn image of Kraesh bringing both brows to raise considerably. “You know…” She paused, actually chuckling now before she set the picture to the side, “- this makes me appreciate the fact that he’s incredibly sexy even more so.”

[oaken-bulwark]

send me a ∞ for an inappropriate thought my muse has had about yours - Kraesh

“There are three types of Sin’dorei women: those that have slept with an Orc, those that are curious about sleeping with Orcs, and liars. Kraesh bumped me from number two, to one, real fast. My exception, and one I would make over, and over, and over.”

[oaken-bulwark]

How far she has fallen from grace.

The thought made him laugh, despite the circumstances he had been presented with. Paijwen. Grace. It was wasn’t a term usually used to describe the woman. Graceful? What elf wasn’t. Whatever series of events had led her to turn her back on her child and become little more than those wolves she loved so much was beyond him.

Kraesh snorted, forcing the heavy wooden septum piercing that hung from his nose to skip off of his upper lip as he swatted a meaty hand in front of his face. Bugs. How he hated bugs. Very few things got to the Orc, but gnats flying into his nostrils was something that never failed to get his goat. He was already on edge. This place disconcerted him. Made him uncomfortable. Not in the sense that it scared him, or made him nervous, it was just... wrong.

The Ghostlands.

Aptly named. Ever since Quel’thas was torn asunder by the forces of the Scourge, this particular part of the region was a bastion for eldritch monstrosities. Forlorn spirits. Shambling corpses. Death. It was also home to Paijwen this evening, if the information that he’d been given was correct. It didn’t take long for him to glean more details from the remaining Pathfinders. A silent Wayfinder from Paijwen’s end. The last known transmission. From there, it was a matter of contacting her acquaintances. Bribing guardsmen. Gods know that they wouldn’t have given him information regardless. Xenophobic to the last.

A splash. The sound of something submerging itself beneath a surface of water that no one had any business bathing in.

The chuffing of wolves.

He’d found the place.

Kraesh lumbers through the wilderness, sabatons breaking twigs under foot, crunching leaves, and generally making his presence known. If the Wolf didn’t notice his presence, then her pups surely would.

“Paijwen Dawnspark,” he grunted, stepping fully into view of the dusky pond and its current occupant. His features were set, eyes forward. He’d not acknowledge the woman’s companions. Not today. Not unless they set upon him. “I always find you in the most compromising positions. It’s been too long.”

@paijwen

[oaken-bulwark]

“EHEHEHEHEHEHE.”

[[Art of Kraesh - compliments of nennesis!]]

[oaken-bulwark]

◀️◀️

“Father, please. I’m hungry.”

“Everyone is hungry, Kraesh. And everyone has to deal with it.”

Lordamere was unforgiving. Lordamere was harsh. Lordamere was home.

The Orcish runt opened his mouth to complain again, but he knew that he would be given the same response no matter how much he pleaded. Food was scarce, and the humans only offered them the bare essentials. What little they had been given for the day had already been rationed and handed out to the community. Just like the day before, and the day before that, the little Orc’s family had been short changed by the larger and stronger prisoners.

They’d have to go hungry for another night.

“Well…can I at least go out to play? It’s really boring in here, and I wanna see Mygli.”

Hyurl sighed heavily and drooped his head as his fingers worked against the bale of hay that he’d been preparing for the humans’ stables. He knew that Mygli, the girl that Kraesh had become fast friends when he was first able to walk on his own, had perished the night prior due to extraneous circumstances that were out of the Orcs’ control. They weren’t afforded medicine for the sick. If anything, the humans would contain the sickness and let the malady thin the Orcish population when too many children were being born. Mygli was one of many casualties that came with such treatment.

“Maybe tomorrow, Kraesh. Maybe tomorrow.”