Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Croon of the Kraul	By : disscordia Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 6737 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1--1-
- 2--2-
- 3--3-
- 4--4-
- 5--5-
- 6--Epilogue-
- 1
- 2
- 3
Title: Croon of the Kraul

Author: A. Pseudonym, aka 'Dark Morgan'

Summary: After their meeting in the castle Kraltuk finds himself obsessed with a human, much to the disapproval of his elders...

Rating: NC17, YAOI (MxM stuff. Don't like it, don't read. If you do like, enjoy ;)

Quests: [34] A Vengeful Fate[34] The Crone of the Kraul,

Dikclaimer: WoW is obviously not owned by me. If it were there'd be a lot more yaoi in the flavour text & dialogue and rogues would have more quests. These characters, however, are mine :)
------------------------------------------------------------------

�The Earthspirit calls. We listen to the soil. We listen to the rock. In its song we find our strength and form. From crystal we build our bones. From clay we mold our flesh. From earth we raise our horns to the sky.�

*****

The orc moved in his mind. His musk. His skin. Movements of flesh against flesh, warm closeness and hot breath thrummed through his waking thoughts trapped in by the noise of the tavern rather than drowned out.

�Dannar? Dannar!� the night elf across the table snapped his mug down startling Dannar into the present.

�Sorry� Dannar apologized. �I�ve� been� �

��somewhere else. All evening. I know.� Thaelyn raised the ale to his mouth and downed the rest of his drink.

I�ve got to get sex out of my mind, Dannar chastised himself mentally. That orc.. No. It shouldn�t have happened. What if the Cathedral found out? Oh Light, I�d be forsworn for sure.

�So you see I�ve collected the horns of the chimaera near Stonetalon Peak and a great many scorched fangs from the spiders here,� the night elf continued, picking up the conversation where he had left it, �but what the Master requires of me now to create the hauberk of fire-hardened mail is a phial of the essence of combustion. Phlogiston. It exists in all things that live but is a very elusive substance. Only a few quillboar races of Kalimdor have discovered ways to distill phlogiston and they keep those secrets guarded. We would have to go into the heart of their� city �to acquire it.�

�City,� Dannar muttered into his drinking stein. �Where?�

�Somewhere in the Southern Barrens,� Thaelyn stated. �Just on the outskirts of Horde territory.�

�Horde territory?� Dannar asked, fully attentive for the first time that evening.

�Not too close really. I�ve got a friend in Theramore who can lead us through Dustwallow Marsh and if we follow the mountains closely we can probably get in and out without drawing any unwanted attention.�

�I� let me think about it,� Dannar said.

�Very well,� Thaelyn said ordering a fourth mug of ale from a barmaid walking by. �I�ll ask you in the morning before the first boat out.�

Dannar finished off the last of his mead and wandered idly out. The hubbub of the tavern was too much for his mind, distracted as it was by fantasies of green skin and what he�d like to do with Thaelyn�s floppy ears, so he set his legs to walking without thinking of where they were going.

Kalimdor, he pondered. Orc homeland now that the Dark Portal�s closed. And with the exception of Theramore, forbidden to anyone without hooves or green skin. They�d kill us if they found us.

Though the Third War had ended in a tenuous truce between the Horde and Alliance, the monstrous-looking races of Orcs, Trolls and Tauren making up the former coalition did not take kindly to the Humans, Dwarves, Night Elves or Gnomes who made up the latter. Even the Undead � the Horde�s supposed allies � were viewed with skepticism and watched more than with an air of caution by some of the older veterans. The Horde�s history was a history of bloodshed and betrayel, of displacement and enslavement and only the na�ve hoped for peace. What would be more likely to happen would entail many years of borderland skirmishes while the ambitious centralized power in the great cities and those wishing to have no part of it could depart to fabled lands and places where unknown monsters ruled in their own right. At least, that would be one of the better outcomes.

And yet despite this Dannar found himself considering the night elf�s proposition very seriously. Was he that interested in getting away from his homeland, away from the unasked questions which he knew he could not hide the answers to forever? Or was there something more? Did he want to go to Kalimdor to see these Orcs which commanded the world�s respect, who brought with them strange ways of speaking to the earth quite unlike the Night Elve�s connection to Nature � a part of their heritage nearly lost to their demonic enslavement and barely salvaged by the Tauren mystics?

Or, did he want to find him?

Dannar found he had returned to the Inn and had walked past the tavern upstairs towards the room where he was staying. He locked the door and removed his armour, stripped down to his skivvies and sat down on the floor to clean things which needed cleaning and contemplate things needing contemplating.

Perhaps that�s just what he needed to get his thoughts in order and put the fire out from his mind: time away from Azeroth and the Holy Order. He could help Thaelyn out with his quest and then, who knew? He could spend some time alone in the world. It wouldn�t kill him to continue living out of a backpack for a while and the solitude might help him find the way of the Light again. How long had it been since he had last seen his trainer? The teachings of his caste were of charity and benediction, but lately he found his thoughts trailing off towards selfish, excessive ends.

It�s not that sex was forbidden amongst his Order. There were several paladins who were sexually active and managed to balance a pious life while defending Azeroth. What tormented Dannar was that he had denied his own sexuality for so long that at five summers short of his thirtieth year he had amassed a lifetime�s worth of need and desire and missed opportunities for passion and release. Now sex was the only thing on his mind and he found himself thinking more about what his various traveling companions might be like in the sack and less about the quests he was helping them with. He had even had a few encounters with some of them � mostly night elves and humans but there were a couple episodes, like that one with a group of dwarven women who �liked tall men,� that he sometimes wondered how he ever got involved with.

Regardless of this his exploding libido was only half his worry. The rest of it came from that one night he kept returning to over and over, his first night. The rough sex. The hot smell of blood and metal. The thrust of his lover�s hungry passion to match his own grasping and caressing as he let himself be taken by a whirlwind of muffled groaning and broken grunting, wary of the danger that lurked below them. He had been hurt, dying, and this other had come looking so much the worse for wear. They had bandaged each other and shared what might have been the last night of their lives in one crushing embrace. He and his lover � an orc with emerald skin, dark raven-blue hair and eyes to match. They had left the castle before morning�s light and departed on their separate ways.

He�s probably forgotten me by now, Dannar thought. Bet I was just another �conquest� to him. He touched his neck where the orc had bitten down and left two small marks where his lower fangs had drawn blood. He probably doesn�t have thoughts or needs to� to touch� Dannar let his hand slide down his naked chest. �or feel� skin� He closed his eyes and imagined the orc�s soft gaze, his claiming hands. Dannar moistened his lips trying to remember the musky earth-scent mixed with sweat that had caressed his senses that night while his own hands explored the orc�s muscles, the orc�s flesh. Hard, unyielding thighs; strong and guiding arms arms; sharp, dark nipples that stood out firmly from solidly cut pectorals. Dannar�s own hand began to caress the musculature around his breast and let his other hand drop what it was working on to caress in long strokes his outer thighs.

He probably doesn�t� remember how I feel� Dannar thought as he remembered defining the orc�s body with his hands when they lay exhausted in the hay loft, the orc lying on top of him while his hands explored his entire body. The orc moaning gently against the nape of his neck while he stroked his lower back, his buttocks, his inner thighs. Dannar�s knees slid further apart, his hands starting to hone in on the warm bulge growing beneath them under his linen underwear. His rough hands� don�t feel like this� ah� ah�ll bet� he doesn�t� feel� this� like� ah� ah� AHhhHh�

That night, Dannar slept on the floor despite having for the first time in months the finest down bed 50 silver can buy � something one usually never finds when camping beside the road, or in the wildernesses where most adventurers find themselves many nights of the moon.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Croon of the Kraul