In the Days of Hellscream

Blinking against the sunlight that seeps through the straw roof, Vartokk sits up in her hammock and attempts to rub the remnants of sleep from her eyes. After her initiation ceremony, she had mingled with family and friends until daybreak. Usually a morning person, she feels out of sorts as she realizes it’s almost noon and the sun is hanging high above Darkspear Village. Swinging her feet over the edge of the hammock, it tilts, threatening to spill her onto the floor.

Stumbling, Vartokk tries to regain her balance, but she has already slipped off of the hammock and is leaning too far forward to stop herself from falling. She lifts her arms, breaking her fall and hanging her head for a brief moment before rolling onto her back. Closing her eyes and breathing in the dense jungle air, Vartokk begins to think she will fall asleep again until she hears the faint creaking of the stairs leading to her room. She does not bother to open her eyes and look at the intruder until a shadow blocks the sun from her face. Partially opening one eye, she sees the silhouette of a male troll and tries to focus, squinting against the light around him.

“’Tis a good thing no one has eva asked ya to be alert right after ya wake up, V!”

Vartokk recognizes the voice immediately as Zuni, her childhood best friend. Unlike Vartokk, Zuni decided to train to become a front-line fighter. She has heard them called warriors and paladins. Zuni loves the rush of being face-to-face with his opponent. He enjoys hearing their labored breathing as they struggle to overpower him, to feel their fear when they know they have lost, and to see the light fade from their eyes as he drives his blade through their heart. Vartokk, on the other hand, prefers to be swift and silent, watching them writhe in pain, looking for their hidden attacker as the tip of an arrow drains the blood from their heart, never giving the enemy a chance to strike back. Zuni always tells her “an arrow through da heart is too quick a death for any Alliance scum.”

She inwardly scoffs. Alliance, she always replies, disgust in her voice, every one of ‘dem deserve ta die at da hands of da Horde. Be it blade or bow. Pondering her comment for a moment, Zuni always agrees and tells Vartokk that the Horde has never seen a soldier so devout as she.

It ‘tis true, she thinks, I will live an’ breathe for da Horde ‘till da day battle strikes me down.

Vartokk feels a nudge on her shoulder, dragging her mind from memory lane into the present. She grabs the foot pushing on her shoulder and swings it toward Zuni’s other leg, throwing him off balance and causing him to tumble to the floor. She looks over at his face and laughs and the dumbfounded expression written on it in that moment. Jumping off the floor, she offers him a hand and pulls him back up.

“Remember Zuni, I may enjoy a fight at range, but I can still act quick when it comes ta melee.”
A playful light flashes in Zuni’s eyes, “Is that a threat V?”

Still holding his hand, Vartokk yanks Zuni in close and whispers, “No my dear friend, ‘tis a promise.”

Vartokk winks, letting go of Zuni’s hand and walking over to the wash basin that sits across the room from her hammock. Splashing cold water on her face, she is aware of Zuni’s eyes watching her every move. She has recently taken notice that Zuni’s mannerisms toward her have changed. He has been acting protective, almost jealous. The day before she went on her first hunt she had been invited by a good friend, Za’taari , to have a pleasant and relaxing dinner on the beach. They had a great time, and the evening had ended with a surprising kiss on the cheek. She can still feel the brush of his tusks against her face as she thinks about it. After that day, Zuni changed.

And now he’s acting as if he… The thought stops dead in its tracks as realization dawns on Vartokk, Zuni, my best friend, my most trusted battlefield partner.

Closing her eyes, Vartokk sighs before turning around. Before she turns completely to face him, Zuni grabs her shoulders and spins her around. Placing a hand on the back of her head, he kisses her fiercely. She feels a mixture of emotions and her head swims with memories of their childhood. Feeling dizzy, her legs start to grow weak and she feels as though she will fall onto the floor again. Seeming to sense this, Zuni wraps a supporting arm around her waist and pulls her close to him.

For a brief moment, Vartokk fights with the conflicting emotions that swell inside her body, consuming her mind, until its feels as though her subconscious takes over and kisses him back. She fights the desire to rip the scuffed plate armor from his body as he snakes his hand up her back under her leather tunic. The fight does not last long. As he traces his fingers back down her spine, her hand grabs for the latch on the side of his breastplate, fumbling with the lock.

“Dammit,” she mutters, “how do ya get dis ting off every night?”

Tusks brushing against the skin on Vartokk’s neck, Zuni laughs softly and reaches back to undo the lock. He shrugs it from his shoulders, letting it crash onto the wooden floors. He stands and she looks at him. She has hasn’t seen him without his breastplate in years because those in training or who have completed it are required to wear their armor every day. Now, the only thing that remains between them and skin-to-skin contact is her leather tunic and a tight-fit cloth shirt that hugs every contour of his muscles.

Vartokk can feel her heart start to beat faster as she reaches for the belt that secures his legplates. Just as she starts to unlock the clasp, someone outside the hut screams. She and Zuni tense up, turning their heads towards the door. They both recognize that it was not a scream of joy, but one of distress: one trying to warn others of danger.

Without another glance at each other, Vartokk and Zuni dash for their weapons and out of the hut. On her way out, something bright catches Vartokk’s eye. She looks around, and upon realizing it is Zuni’s breastplate reflecting the sunlight, thinks of calling after him to tell him to put it back on.

Her words die in her throat as she looks out of her hut to see a Naga slither onto the beach and raise its spear over her sister’s head.