night elf

Beyran walked through the jungle of Stranglethorn cursing his luck. He’d been walking two days to find an outpost or even a damn camp where he could sit down, and tend to a wound he sustained from a hungry jungle panther.

The young Blood Elf’s head was drenched with sweat, and his shield arm loosely swung to his side as he continued his wandering. He quickly perked up however when he heard a roar followed by a woman’s shriek. He immediately pulled his curved Sin’dorei blade loose of its scabbard and raced in the direction the shriek came from.

The shriek had definitely come from a woman…

A Night Elven woman…

Who managed to make a very large gorilla angry.

Beyran’s first thought was to turn the opposite direction and flee from the beast that could possibly, and quite literally, beat him to a pulp in his current state, but as he looked at the woman he noticed that she was in worse condition than he. She nursed an obviously broken arm that hung slack to her side, and multiple cuts on her body that he could see due to her leather tunic being ripped nearly apart.

He sighed to himself as he brought the odd triangular shield, which all Silvermoon soldiers carried, up in a defensive stance and began to charge at the gorilla. He caught the large black haired primate off-guard, slamming into him when he attempted a lethal overhead strike intended to end the woman on the ground.

“For the glory of the Sin’dorei!” he cried as he began stabbing at the gorilla’s open midsection.

The beast roared at his wounding strikes, and smacked at him with one tree-like forearm connecting with his shield and sending him reeling back.

“Run if you can still!” he cried in broken Darnassian as he recovered and ran back at the beast.

The Night Elf was too shocked to do anything except watch as this nigh-insane Blood Elf defied their racial rivalries and intervened to save her life. As he smacked and sliced at the beast and it clawed and tore back at him her pain and fear finally overcame her. She blacked out, slumping onto the jungle floor quietly breathing.

Beyran cursed as he watched her. She died just as he tried to save her. Filled with anger he began striking back harder and harder at the gorilla. The beast, sensing his renewed vigor, attempted another overhand pummel, but was met with a daring leap by the man at his face. The curved blade pierced the soft flesh just under the chin and drove straight through the beast’s mouth into its skull and brain tissue. Killing it outright, and causing it to reel back and slam into the ground.

After the gorilla fell Beyran dropped his shield and ran to the woman’s side. Upon getting within arm’s reach he noticed her shallow breaths and sighed in exhaustion.

“She’s alive… Unconscious, but alive,” he said aloud.

He was thankful her discarded pack had cloth in it, and salves amongst other things.

He managed to make use of them as improvised bandages on her arm, and anywhere she managed to sustain a cut or scrape.

Which seemed to be everywhere…

He avoided removing her torn tunic to treat a few cuts on her torso for fear of upsetting her upon her revival. He was one of very few Blood Elf males that would resist this type of temptation, but he was also raised away from city life, which would explain his action to assist the woman.

Regardless of whether she was his enemy or not.

He saved some cloth for himself, removing his breastplate and shirt to replace the soiled bandages from days ago. The humid jungle air felt good on his bare skin, and he ended up leaving the armor off as he prepared a cooking fire, and some rations from his own bag.

The smell of seared crocolisk meat filled the air as the sun began to set, and Beyran began to eat just as the woman awoke. She leaned up on her side and gave a surprised look at Beyran as he stopped half-way through a bite of meat.

“Uh… Hi?” he said in Common with his slight Thalassian accent.

The awkward awakening was explained quickly by Beyran after he introduced himself. They both sat on opposite sides of the fire and ate the fresh meal. She stayed quiet through most of the conversation, staring down at her meal, until Beyran broke the silence.

“So, what is your name then miss?”

“It’s… Limwen,”

She stressed the “I” turning it into a double “e” sound.

“Nice to meet you finally without anything trying to kill us,” he chuckled.

She let a slight smirk slip, but killed it quickly.

“You had no obligation to help me. Why did you?”

“What do you mean why did I help you? You were about to be mashed to paste.”

“Regardless of the danger I was in you have no reason to help me. You are Thalassian and I am Darnassian. We don’t normally associate with each other, much less save each other from certain death,”

Beyran shrugged and took another bite of his food.

“I guess I wasn’t raised right by your standards then,”

Limwen poked at her food, chastising herself for being harsh to her rescuer.

“I didn’t remove your tunic, so there are still untreated cuts if you want me to get going so you can treat them I understand,”

Beyran didn’t look her in the eyes as he said this, as he felt by her harshness that she didn’t want him there. Limwen accepted the proffered bandages and tried to stand on wobbly legs before she lost her balance, but Beyran caught her before she fell, dropping his food in the process and gingerly laid her back down on his bedroll.

“I don’t think I am ready to stand Beyran,”

He chuckled at her statement.

“No, I think you’ll need a good night’s rest first miss,”

She nodded and looked away from him for a second before looking back into his fel-tainted green eyes.

“Will you stay here with me? I can’t defend myself much less move very far alone,”

“Yes I will Limwen; I’ll keep you safe until you’re better,”

She thanked him and let herself slip into sleep.

Beyran got up from his crouch at her side and looked around.

“She’s sleeping on my damn bedroll,” he grumbled as he sat down on a rock to sharpen his blade.

He woke up much earlier than her. The sun was barely beginning to shine as her removed his bandages and crept down to a nearby stream to clean his body. He left his armor and shield at the camp near Limwen and wore nothing to the stream except his blade and simple linen pants.

Once at the stream he set the blade down on the bank, and slid out of his pants and undergarment as he began to bathe in the cool water


Limwen awoke to the sound of jungle monkeys hooting at each other. She was startled to see that the man who’d been kind enough to watch over her was gone, but his shield and armor still lay near the smoldering embers of the campfire. She stood on trembling legs, and drew the thin blanket around herself as she slowly walked along a path of parted foliage she suspected he made.

She eventually came upon the stream where he was bathing, and she saw all of him…

He was standing in the water where it just managed to cover his crotch. Her eyes went over his muscled chest and arms over to his strong jaw, and short reddish-orange hair. He was amazingly handsome, possessing that perfect amount of muscle that just made him reek attractiveness.

She unconsciously found herself running a hand under her torn tunic, and over her flat stomach. Fortunately she caught herself before it went much farther, not because it was “wrong”, but because she didn’t want her hand.

She wanted his hand…

She quickly returned to the camp, attempting to put on the illusion that she hadn’t been spying on him the entire time he’d been bathing.

This was going to become more interesting than she thought.

July 2018
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