A few weeks ago, Navimie visited our old blogs and suggested that we should write a joined one. Her idea made its way and that’s how The Brutes is born. To thank her for inspiring the creation of our new home, we have written a story in which she is featured.
As usual, it is filled with a large dose of (dubious) sense of humor and a pinch of ego-centrism. And now, off with the show!
I am awesome. Seriously, I kick bullies’asses and Women fall in love with me, if that doesn’t match your definition of awesomeness, think again! Now that this is out of the way, let’s get going with the events that led me to save Navimie.
I was at the Razor Hill’s Inn with Soforah after a week
wandering aimlessly and broke in Durotar living amazing adventures. We were getting smashed on cheap ale eating a delicious meal in this rather modest place when it all started.
There wasn’t many people that day, just us, a couple of Trolls sitting at the next table, a drunken Orc and a lady Tauren drinking at the bar. The Orc was apparently expressing his miscontempt about all that was crossing his mind, from the taste of the beer to the fact that people weren’t grateful enough to Garrosh for all he was doing for the Horde.
It started like the soft mumbling of a drunken man, but it quickly became a shout adressed to the whole room. It was working on my nerves. He went on about the other races and how he thought that they should be reminded of who were the real rulers of Azeroth. He was still as loud but, this time, his speech was directed to the first person he could find, the Tauren druid sitting a few meters away from him.
She didn’t seem too much interested in what he had to say, but he clearly was searching for an excuse to start a fight.
Don’t mind me saying this but, while druids are amazing with their love for the nature and all that, they have this habit to grow a culture of mushrooms when they feel threatened… Not very useful when dealing with a giant orc and his two-handed axe.
This is where I came in. You see, I don’t like bullies, even less when they lack respect to a lonely woman. Soforah, still busy eating her roasted beast, understood by the look in my eyes that things were about to be dealt with.
I got up and started to walk toward the bar when one of the Trolls sitting in front of us tried to stop me. He told me that the Orc was Malkorok, the leader of the Kor’kron and that I’d better leave him alone. I told him “I don’t know bullies by their names, but they always end up knowing mine!”.
I had almost reached Marlborok or whatever his name was when he jumped out of his seat and yelled something at me. I didn’t really understood what he said, his breath was too horrible. When he tried to swing his axe at me, I grabbed his arm and twisted it until his weapon dropped. I twisted a bit more and he apologized to the Tauren. Then, with a single kick of my right boot, I sent him flying through the Inn back to the dirt where he came from. He didn’t dare to come back, probably too afraid…
The tauren was speechless, the poor thing was in shock. Who wouldn’t be, she’d just been rescued by Sardoken, the sexiest Orc in Azeroth. She told me something that sounded like “navy me”. It probably meant “kiss me” in her language, but I wasn’t going to “navy” anyone. You see, this fine piece of Orc is already taken. I saw the flame in her eyes but I had to break her heart. I think she understood, because she kept it clean, no tears or anything. After all she would have a fine tale to tell her grand-kids, someday…
I went back to my table and winked at Soforah. She could go on to eat at her ease, the disturbance was over.
The tale of Sardoken is true… Well, at least, some part of it. We were indeed at the Razor Hill’s inn that day, and there was indeed a drunken Orc at the bar. Now, for the rest, let me tell you what really happened.
devouring eating my roasted boar, the truth is that we didn’t eat for, at least, two hours a day and a half. Our little escort business didn’t have much success at that time, especially since Kor’kron guards were posted everywhere in Durotar. I could say that we were enjoying our meal in this rather modest establishment but the truth is that we didn’t have enough gold to afford anything better than this dump, its warm flat beer and its funky tasting “boar”.
If there is one thing I hate even more than not eating is to be disturbed while eating. The only thing we could hear at the Inn that day was the drunken Orc trying to pick a fight with the lady Tauren sitting right next to him. But if you think that I am a hot blooded Orc, you don’t know how fast Sardoken reacts when an opportunity to satisfy his ego appears to him.
Before I could realise it, he was up and walking toward the bar. The other Orc was drunk but he was also colossal, way taller and wider than Gammy. A troll who was just trying to mind his own business, tried to warn him but Sardoken gave him his
most condescendant best smile, the one that means “don’t worry little fella, I have everything under control”.
What followed happended very fast. I tried to stop him, but it was already too late. The Orc had jumped out of his chair and was on Gammy before he could dodge a punch that would stop a Kodo in the middle of his charge. Sardoken was lying face down on the floor, but I could take advantage of the diversion to break the heaviest pint I could find on the back of the Orc’s head. Drunk like he was, it didn’t take more than that to put him to sleep.
That’s when Sardoken finally decided to wake up from his little nap and to drag an unconscious Malkorok out of the Inn. When he came back, he tried to charm the lady Tauren but, as usual, it didn’t work well but, this time, it wasn’t really his fault. We couldn’t really make anything out of the sounds coming from his mouth, his jaw was probably broken.
The Tauren looked at me, made a smile and told me her name was Navimie and that she was very grateful for the help.
We walked back to our table where I could finally finish my meal, and Sardoken could end up this story the way he always ends up all stories, with a half keg and a big nap.
Malkorok came back to the pub a few days later and blew it up with a frag grenade. People thought that it was to kill two high-ranked Forsaken and Blood-elf officers. But we know now that he came back to wash an honnor he never had to begin with.