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Vilmah

My friend at Jezvik’s House

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Vilmah wandered down the streets of Orgrimmar, her long black ponytail bouncing slightly with every step. Her large hands, equipped with brand new chain mail gloves, were folded behind her back as she gave merry smiles to anyone who happened to look her way. The grunts hailed her, and she hailed back as she walked past the huge doorway that led to their capital city.

“Don’t be stranger, Vilmah,” said one, who had introduced himself as Krug on Vilmah’s first visit.

She smiled at him and waved. “I won’t! I’ll be back soon.”

She wasn’t a large orc, as their females come, and yet she carried with her weaponry suitable for a male twice her size. The hot Durotar sun beat down on her bare skull, which caused sweat to trickle down her skin and linger perilously close to her eyes before she wiped it away. Before long, she was taking a drink from a water skin. It’s full contents reassured her that she would survive the perilous walk that came with visiting her friend.

Hours passed, and more than one creature tried to force Vilmah to turn back. However, it she kept a pleasant disposition about her, trying to remain as optimistic as the weather in Durotar would allow.Her persistency paid off when she finally came across a sizable domicile, hiding within the crevice of the mountainside. The red stones that built it matched the mountain’s color so perfectly, it took an experienced eye to spot the windows which marked it as the home of someone. When finally she arrived, the small sign which hung outdoors could be easily read.

“Welcome to Jezvik’s House!” Chirped a goblin, as Vilmah walked in. She was seated behind a desk, dressed in garish purple robes. “Can I get you anything? Food, drink?”

“No thanks,” Vilmah replied, taking a look around the foyer. Large painted portraits of goblins hung in most of the wall space, but here and there, a female orc or troll could be found posing in the nude. Turning back to the goblin who greeted her, Vilmah asked if Najme was available.

“Najme? Hm… Najme… Najme…” Repeated the goblin, as she looked through a book in front of her. Using her long crimson painted fingernails, she trailed down a list of names until she came to Najme. “Oh, I’m sorry! She’s with someone, right now. Would you like to meet with someone else? A male, perhaps? We have some lovely things in stock!”

Vilmah shook her head. “Oh, no thanks. I’ll just wait until she’s done, if that’s alright.”

“Set in your tastes, are you?” Asked the goblin. “I’m not surprised. Every time you come here, you get the same thing.”

A few minutes passed, and Vilmah took a seat on the small plush couch which leaned against a wall. The stuffing was soft and slightly uncomfortable. Vilmah fondly remembered the straw furniture that adorned most of the homes in her village. After a sizable amount of time, the light outside began to dim, allowing a draft to flow inside from an open window.

“Stupid Durotar evenings…” The goblin female grumbled. “Hot as blazes one day, cold as Arthas’ heart the next…”

When a tall and statuesque male orc emerged from the door to Vilmah’s right, her goblin greeter gave a nod. “You can go in, now.”

“Thanks, Kixi,” Vilma said to the goblin before placing a stack of gold coins on her desk. She couldn’t help but look over the male who was leaving. He was well muscled, and much older than her. His black hair had streaks of gray, and there were large scars covering most of his unarmored body. She could tell by the dark clothes and daggers he wore, that he must have been a rogue of some sort.

Walking through the front door, the young orc could smell what reminded her of Orgrimmar. The stench of accumulated dust, sweat, and blood. It left a stale metallic taste on her tongue, which made her even more eager to reach Najme’s room. The door at the end of the tunnel held promise for a brighter night ahead.

“Najme?” Asked Vilmah, as she tapped against a pale wooden door.

There was silence. Then, “Come in.”

Vilmah opened the door to a tiny room. Inside, the walls were mostly bare except for a faded coat of paint. The floor space was mostly taken up by a large bed, covered in silk blankets and pillows. Sitting at the edge, facing the window, was a muscularly build human female.

“Najme! How are you? I came as soon as I was allowed by my superiors,” said Vilmah cheerfully, as she walked up to sit next to the human. “I’ve brought you some roast plain strider meat, some melons, bananas, cheese… how have you been?”

Najme turned to face Vilmah. The sight of the orc’s cheerful face reminded her of her kind, if only for a few short moments. This one, at least, she knew would never hurt her in the ways her race had done before. “Oh, you know. The usual. Thanks for the food, you know you don’t have to bring me anything.”

“I thought you deserved it. I’m able to stay a little longer, this time. We can stay up talking all night!”

“You know that never works out, Vilma. I wish you’d tell me why you don’t want to go to sleep.”

Vilmah shook her head, and dismissed the question “Anyway, the general of my division was kind enough to promote me, so I’ve been getting more funds!” Vilma paused to smile. “He’s nice. You’d really like him.”

“What’s his name?”

Vilmah bit her lip and grinned. “General Gorthok. He’s been nicer to me than anyone ever has, before. Especially after I was finally able to leave Kuruck.”

“Your little village can’t have been that bad, Vilmah,” said Najme as she fished through Vilmah’s bag. “How is Galrok? Have you found him, yet?”

Vilmah’s smile faded. She remembered the day that her oldest childhood friend entered an inn where she was drinking, only to have forgotten their childhood, and his entire life before joining the military. “I… well, yes. Sort of. ough, I wanted to tell you I’ll be strong enough, soon.”

“Strong enough? Vilmah, lets not talk about this again…”

Vilmah shook her head. “No, really! I’ll be strong enough to at least be able to get past the goblins. My division is strong too, and I’m sure I could get someone to help me. After all, Death Before Dishonor is just that! We’re all for honor, and nobody would think that this… this is…”

“Honorable,” Najme finished for her.

The orc paused. “…well, it’s not like it’s your fault. They did this to you, and as a proud member of the Horde it’s my job to weed out the injustices that remain.”

Najme sighed, and leaned back into her bed. The tinkling of metal could be heard clearly, as the enchanted ankle brace on her leg rocked against the chain attaching it to the stone wall. “Vilmah, I’m not myself any more. I’m not sure if I’d ever be able to do the things I used to do, if I were to leave. It’s so much easier just to lie back… and,” she noticed that Vilmah didn’t see to be following. “Anyway, Vilmah it’s nice of you to want to help me, but really. I’m doing you a favor. The more soldiers come in her to… spend time with me, the less they’ll hassle you on the battleground. Right?”

“I’d rather a hundred of them hassle me than one of them treat you so mean, Najme,” Vilmah said with a sigh. “I’m sorry ‘m not strong enough to get you out of here, yet. Just hold on. I’ll find a way. Then you’ll never have to come back here, or face any of those… those…”

“Orcs.”

Vilmah nodded.

“Remember, Vilmah. I was a solder for the Alliance before I was taken,” Najme said while unpeeling a banana. “If I’m free, I’ll have to go back. I might be fighting against you and your men. How can you let that happen?”

Vilmah smiled. “Oh, I trust you! I know you wouldn’t purposely hurt me. Or anyone else, for that matter! You’re a nice person, Najme. You should be free to go home.”

Najme nodded. “Right. Home…”

The longer Vilmah stayed, the darker it got. Soon, her need for rest for the better of the young orc, and she reluctantly settled down into Najme’s bed. The human tucked her in carefully, making sure not to disturb her sleep. There was a quiet bond between the two, that was more easily understood in sleep than in consciousness. Before Najme blew out her candle, she gave Vilmah a kiss on the forehead.

“What do you dream about that you hate sleep so much?” Najme murmured quietly.

Vilmah stirred slightly in her sleep, moving close to Najme and holding her close in her sleep. “…d-don‘t…don‘t hurt me…..”

“Good night, Vilmah.”

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Though for the right amount of coin, I am quite handy with a lock pick...

Hey, I'd love to have you join in if you want!

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Leaving Rachet, Laron has a long walk back to Darkshore. The sun blazes in the Barrens sky, scorching the ground. He doesn't look forward to traveling during the day, but if he doesn't he will not hit Ashenvale by night fall. He takes out his set of large cat fangs, and secures them to his face with a leather cord. Putting on his traditional "Red Rogues Mask", he messes up his hair and places his shirt under his cloak, to look as though he is hunched over. Looking in the mirror he makes sure his eyes are not visible, under his hat, then heads out the door. In his new Troll's disguise, he starts his walk through the Barrens.

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Vilmah awoke the next morning to find Najme getting ready to start a new day. In her room was a small wooden tub, which she was using to wash herself with luke-warm water and an old wash cloth. She had no soap, so instead she used the cloth to scrub her skin as hard as she could. Vilmah yawned and stretched, rubbing her eyes.

"Morning already?"

Najme turned towards her and smiled. Her long black hair was wet, and covered her dark skin like a blanket. "Yes. You know it isn't my place, but--"

"I know..." Vilmah said with a sigh, getting out of bed and grabbing her bag. "No worries, Najme. I'll get stronger, and then I'll get you out of here. I promise."

Najme stood and went over to Vilmah. To her surprise, the human brought her into a wet hug. "Be careful on your way out."

The outside of Najme's room was a little busier than it had been during the night. There were men leaving each of the other rooms, some of them trolls, but most of them orcs. None of them gave her a passing glance as she left the house of debauchery, and none of them spoke.

Walking outside of the house, she noticed a troll walk by who looked slightly shorter than average. She shrugged it off and continued on her way.

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As Laron crests the hill he sees a very large wall with spikes on it and a set of gates. Looking with his spy glass he sees the banner of the Horde displayed proudly on both sides. “Damm I new I went the wrong way.” Checking his map again, he realizes he almost went to Ogrimmar. Sitting down looking at his map a sparkle shines in his eyes. Looking up, he realizes that there is a building in the hills, and it looks as though it is supposed to be hidden… Making his way up to the building, Laron thinks “Maybe a gambling den?” It looks almost like a human inn. Walking up to the porch, he is passed by a female Orc. Normally Laron would have stopped to at least admire her figure, but after what had happened to him in the last week, he is not in the emotional state to flirt. What does catch his eye though is the size of her rather large… weapons. He realizes that he is staring at the muscular woman with a black ponytail. Bowing to her, he takes a deep breath as he opens the door.

Inside there is a female goblin sitting at the counter. She says something to him, but he only picks up a few words. Looking at the “menu” he sees crude pictures that look like.

Leg of meat 5s

Sheep 50s

Orc 5g

Troll 7g

Human 10g

At the bottom of the menu it looks like a wash tub, and it has 15g next to it. Laron assumes that an Orc or a Tauren could eat a whole sheep, and water is probably rare here, so a bath probably cost a lot. Pointing to his ear, he shakes his head acting as though he is deaf, and puts 15 gold on the table. The goblin looks at the coin, and points to the door at the end of the hall. Walking down the hall he passes a male Orc. He sniffs himself to make sure the Orc doesn’t want to get close to him. Pushing the door open he realizes there is only a tub and a bed, with a woman laying in it. All at once it hits Laron like a charging Kodo. “This is a brothel! This is not good. And the sheep is not for food…” he thinks to himself. The woman sits up and says “Hello” in Orcish. He then realizes that the woman is human… “What is she doing here?” he thinks to himself. Then his eyes narrow as he realizes that also. Seeing that she is chained to the wall, he closes the door and places his finger to his mask, telling her to be quiet.

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Najme watched as the troll that entered her room told her to be quiet. She was rather used to this type of treatment... some of the men that came for her wanted her to be completeley silent while they had their fun. The fact that this partcular troll told her to be quiet was not surprising, considering the fact that he looked like a rogue, and that sort usually liked the silent type...

She sat up, and walked over to the tub. The water was still slightly warm, but it was mostly room temperature. Few people could tell the difference. She stood up and faced him, then pointed to her articles of clothing; a loose shirt, torn in various places, and a short skirt. With a raised eyebrow, she asked silently; do you want these off?

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Fighting back the urge to just go with it, Laron walks over and leans in to her ear and whispers in Darnasian “What is a lovely lady such as yourself doing here?” Looking at her with his glowing Elven eyes, Laron winks at her.

Though he doesn’t have a problem with ladies of the night, people make their money in different ways… He, however, have a problem with slavery. And the fact that these animals are making their slaves do who knows what despicable acts, makes him sick to his stomach. He whispers “What happened?”

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Najme nearly tripped on her shackle when she heard him speak Darnassian. She put a hand over her mouth, to supress her sounds of surprise. After a moment of thought, she looked around and leaned in close to him, speaking in a hurried tone.

"You've got to et out of here. If they find out that you've snuck in, they'll kill you!"

Najme's large brown eyes went wide as she listened to the sounds going on outside. The voices of several orcs could be heard, no far from her door. She leaned in quick and grabbed Laron by the shoulders, then threw him on to the bed. She dove atop him, and immediateley after, a large male orc walked in through her door with a spiked club.

"Food," he grunted, in orcish.

"Thank you, Zig!" Shouted Najme. "Now, could you please leave?"

Zig lingered by the door for a second, dropping a tray of smouldering meat on the floor. He closed the door quietly behind him, leaving Najme to look Laron closeley in the face.

"What are you doing here?? Do you have any idea how much they'll kill

you if they find out you're here?!"

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Landing on the hard bed, Laron smiles under his mask. He could get used to this type of treatment… Speaking in Taurhe, still softly “I am a little lost, and came in for a bath. Though I was surprised at the cost…” Noticing that she hadn’t moved as of yet, he says “Though I am starting to get the picture.” Brushing her hair from her face, Laron says “M’lady, you shouldn’t be concerned about me. I will leave without a trace. I am more worried about you.” Feeling the shackle at his thigh, he says “The shackle shouldn’t be a problem, but getting you out without a bad fight will be a problem. You do want out of hear don’t you?” Trying to be gentleman Laron clears his throat and gestures at the fact that she is still straddling him. “What happened to land you here, in this place?”

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Najme rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. "I've been here for too many weeks. I don't remember how long it's been... but I was sailing to Ironforge, when our ship was hit by a storm. I swam to shore, but some trolls found me and... well, here I am."

She looked him over. "I'm not sure you should try to get me out. Besides the one you just saw, there are ten orcs working here, and several trolls. There are also a few goblins that could make some trouble for us, I believe they're spell casters of some sort..." she sighed. "Look, I don't want to see you get hurt because of me. I'm sure I'll get out of here, eventually."

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(( Sorry went to lunch))

“I don’t have any problems with women wanting to be Ladies of the Night, but I will not let them keep you as a slave.” Scratching his chin, Laron says “The direct root is usually not the best choice. Are there windows? A back door purhaps?” With the flick of his wrist, Laron now has his lock picks in hand. With the precision of a surgeon, he spins the prod in his dexterous fingers and the shackle comes undone. With the look of surprise from the woman, Laron says “I spent some time in your prison. I know a few things about shackles.” Re-setting it loosely, so that she could slip out of it if she wanted to. Gesturing to the door, Laron takes out his soap, and asks “Will we be disturbed again? Because, I really could use a bath.” He starts to undress and states I did pay 15… well 10 gold for a bath… The Orc leaving paid 5 of that for me…” Laron flashes her a mischief smile. “If you want you can take one, before I dirty the water.” Looking down at the plate of meat on the ground, he hands her the soap, and frowning. “It doesn’t look as though they treat their property very well.”

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"Well, they keep me alive. Alive enough, I should say."

Najme watched the night elf, slightly interested in the fact that he was actually going to use the bath. She never considered their kind to be as rough and tumble as those who would have used her shabby accomodations, but for some reason, he was actually getting undressed. She knelt down next to the tub with the soap, and took up a washcloth. "Well, I might as well, if you paid. Tell you the truth, I don't really mind."

She dipped the cloth in the water, and scrubbed it against the soap while Laron got into the water. "I'm afraid it might now be very warm. Well, not any warmer than it is here, anyway... what were you doing here?" She asked, while rubbing down his skin with the soapy wash cloth.

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“Well, I was heading back to Darkshore from Rachet, and damm if I can follow a map… I just happened to notice this place, and as much as I appreciate the company, I thought I was just paying for a place to bathe, I have been on the road for over 3 weeks now, and probably smell as bad as a hunter…” He flinches a bit as she runs her hand over his new brand. It is a pronounced “T” burned into his right pectoral. “That is my new reminder to not get too greedy. The Stockades are not forgiving.” As she makes her way up his neck she can see a plain as day, bite make on his neck. Rather large on his left side of his neck. As he starts to relax a bit he says “You do realize I didn’t expect you to wash me. And you know what that means…? It’s your turn next…” Grabbing her he dunks her into the tub and steps out. Giggling quietly, he take the wash cloth from her, and starts to work up a lather. As he starts to wash her down, he asks. “Are there other slaves here?”

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Najme watched Laron in shock as he washed her, the clothes she still had on now completely soaked. She blinked several times before answering his question.

"Well no, not really. The others are actually paid girls. They rent out space and... well, this is their choice. The sheep, however..." she smirks. "I don't think this is the route they'd have chosen."

Najme watched Laron wash her, feeling herself flush. She wasn't exactly used to anyone treating her with "human" kindness. "So... what's your name, anyway?"

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Chuckling about the sheep he stands and takes a bow. “My name is Laron Ravenshank, and your name, M’lady?” Pulling the shirt off of her he wrings it our and starts to dry it for her. Trying to avert his eyes as much as possible he asks “Do you have family, that are looking for you? A friend maybe? Husband?” Starting to get dressed again, he asks “Is there a time when people go to sleep here? As for the other women, I don’t judge people for how they make their way in the world. Elune knows I don’t make an honest living… But slavery is wrong, and it ends here soon."

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Najme shook her head, smirking a bit as the night elf bowed naked to her. "The only friend I've got is a female orc. She comes and visits me sometimes. Other than that..."

She took a moment to dry herself after leaving the tub. Without anything else to wear, she took a blanket and wrapped it around herself while hanging her skirt to dry. "...I never really had a family. I was raised by sea traders. As for when people go to sleep, usually just around sundown. Running around this area isn't a good idea, considering the things that lurk out there."

Najme flexed her leg, and looked towards the door. "The only way out of here is through that door. This house is built into the rock, so there are now windows. My room is at the very end of the hall, so we're the deepest in. I don't know how far we'd get, if we tried to leave..."

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"Was she the one I saw earlier today? I wouldn’t miss her in a crowd. Wwould she help you leave?” Finally realizing that he hasn’t been alone with a woman in a long time, Laron blushes slightly. Still trying not to stare, he asks, "Would she meet with me? With as strong as she looks I bet we could pull off something that would work.” Now sitting on the bed, Laron ask "How much time do I get for what I paid? Is it for the night, or should I be going? I would like to know so I can scout around a bit tonight…” Seeing her extend her leg, Laron wonders if he should stay the night…

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Najme thought for a moment. "Vilmah is a kind girl. She's very young and unspoiled by conflict... I'm not sure she'd have a problem with meeting you. As for your time, you paid for a bath and... well, whatever else comes with it, I suppose. One thing about this house, they don't get enough business to need to ask anyone to leave."

She leaned back on her elbows. "I suppose you could leave any time between now, and tomorrow morning."

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Laron smiles, noticing that she isn’t making any effort to cover herself anymore, he looks to the door and says “Well I got what I paid for, but if there is more that you want from me, then I wouldn’t want to disappoint you M’Lady. I am just concerned about another interruption, that Orc looked mean.” He sits next to her on the hard straw bed, running his hand through her long black hair, he kisses her passionately.

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Najme closed her eyes, well versed in what to do with a customer. As soon as Laron pulled away, she smiled. "Well, if you're really serious about helping me get out of here, you can have whatever you want. Free of charge."

She stood up, and allowed the blanket that covered her to fall at her feet. Her body was thick and curvaceous, slightly dark in color with a bronze tint. On her neck and left breast were rows of scars, which appeared to be in bite patterns. Najme put her hands on her hips, and rocked back and fourth, a pose she practiced using with all of the other men who visited her. "Don't need to worry about the orc, he won't be back as long as I'm with a customer. ...how long do you think you'll take?"

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Comtemplating the question, Laron realizes that good things should not be lost to indesicion. Unbuckling his doublet he says "With scouting, or with other things? I do have one last question... Would they save you if there was a fire? Looking at her bite marks, he tilts his head to the side exposing his own bite mark, and says "The Horde do seem to be rough, don't they?" Taking his shirt back off he throws it in the corner. "I will meet with your friend tomorrow night." He then walks over to the woman, and wispers in her ear. "You still haven't told me your name.." Lingering close to her neck so that she can feal his breath on here now dry skin.

((I think that might be the cue to take this to PM...))

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((I think that might be the cue to take this to PM...))

((Agreed! Although it might not go the way you planned...;) ))

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