“Is it time already, Captain?” The young blonde captain, fair faced eager, responds, “Yes, m’am. We’ve arrived at the Orgrimmar dock. It’s a bit uh… small. For being the Orc capitol, you would expect a lot more.” Jaina laughs and gets out of her reading chair. She places her bookmark, a dragonhawk feather, in the middle and closes the tome. The mage slides the book back onto her traveling chest and closes the trunk. “Orcs aren’t accustomed to oceans. It’s a miracle they made it here in the first place.” He nods, “That it is, m’am. We never expected to be… well, helping them. No disrespect.” Jaina places her staff on top of her trunk, hopefully assuming the crewmen would carry it off with her other things. She didn’t want to seem threatening to the Orc envoy. Open hands signify trust and peace, she reminds herself. “The Orcs have a troubled history, much like us. What they did to our world… Arthas is rivaling those casualties, and he’s Human. We have to move on.” The captain nods, “Yes, m’am. I’ll let the Orcs know you’ll be about soon.” Jaina nods and as soon as the sailor leaves the room, she closes the door and takes a deep breath. The mage steps before the mirror and gives herself one more look over. She smooths down her silk white breeches and her white blouse. Her father had often complained of her wearing such revealing clothing. Her stomach was completely visible and she showed off a generous amount of cleavage. However, the Elves were fine with it, and so were the mages of Dalaran. Jaina saw no reason to change now. Jaina wraps herself in her purple and gold cloak and unlocks the door to her room and steps onto the ship’s bridge. Just as expected, her apprentices were waiting astutely with their personal belongings in hand. Jaina looks them over and says, “Put your things on the wagon by the dock. The Orcs are taking care of us and will aid in settling in.” The dozen apprentices nod and slowly taper off, walking down the ramp leading to the small pier. A few of the crewmen grab Jaina’s trunk and carry it down the dock for their fearless leader. Jaina is the last to step off and her gaze is met by the Orcs sent to meet her here. At the head of the group was Thrall himself. He wasn’t wearing his armor, obviously trusting her about as much as she trusted him. In fact, he was completely shirtless and wearing only simple breeches and boots. Jaina notices a fine sheen of sweat over his muscled green form and for a brief moment, she feels her heart flutter. He was truly a fine specimen, corded in strength and scars. Jaina sighs and wishes, if only he were Human… The warchief’s powerful voice makes her refocus on the task at hand. “Apologies, Jaina Proudmoore. The pier wasn’t ready this morning and we’ve spent the day building and securing the structure. While it would’ve been simple to allow you to simply take row boats over, I thought it would be… impolite, and certainly not very becoming of the only Orc kingdom in Azeroth.” Jaina stutters in surprise, “No! I mean… it’s fine, Thrall. Er, Warchief Thrall. We appreciate the work you’ve done.” The mage motions to her twelve apprentices and says, “These are the volunteers for the culture exchange. They’re all interested, and open-minded, to learning as much about your people as possible.” Her eyes drift to the two dozen or so younger looking Orcs carrying ragged backpacks and wearing ragged leathers. “These are the ones going back to Theramore?” Thrall nods, “Our best and brightest. And least violent, of course. If any of them break your rules, I assure you that they will be punished swiftly and decisively.” The last part of his sentence he says with an aimed glare to his young Orcs, all much more afraid of the warchief than any punishment Jaina might’ve tried to conceive. “Yes, I understand, Thrall… Umm…” She finds herself staring at the warchief’s pecs for a few moments too long and Jaina suddenly swivels and shouts, “Okay, mages, on the wagon. To Orgrimmar!” The apprentices shuffle onto the large Orc wagon, finding it a bit cramped, but still managing to just barely fit. Jaina approaches and her eyes roam over her group. She sees absolutely no way she could squeeze in as some laps were already being sat on. Suddenly, she feels a large hand tap her on the shoulder and she turns around to see Thrall once again, this time with a simple linen tunic draped over his chest, barely able to fit due to his bulging muscles. The mage realizes she’s very close to Thrall, less than a foot from him. She catches a whiff of his sweaty musk and Jaina shocks
đang được dịch, vui lòng đợi..
