The Employed Hero

I know precisely what one would ask. "Wandering Author, you already made a second chapter? I can't believe my luck!" Yes, it's true dear readers. Boredom is a powerful tool indeed :)

/sarcasm off

On to the story!



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“Hello there, have you come to play with me?” a being managed to say from across the room upon Sloane's entrance.

The Orc's mouth couldn't help but hang open at the strange sight before him. Sitting upon a bed in the center of the room was a naked Human woman. Golden blonde hair flowed to her shoulders, one lock falling in front of her simple and pretty face. Bright blue eyes stared back at him with a mixture of reluctance and desire.

In fact, the previous sentence that escaped her lips had a labored tone to it. As if it was a painful thing to mutter.



“I'm ready for you,” again, she seemed to spit, her eyes turning to the floor in shame.

Sloane understood perfect Common. His father had believed in many things strongly, one of knowing every little detail about one's enemy.

“Once you learn to talk like an Alliance, you can begin to think like one,” his words trickled into Sloane's skull, despite the current situation.

Still, something was amiss about this woman.

“Miss, why are you up here?” he asked the Human as he changed his thought patterns back to Common.

Her eyes widened a bit to realize he understood her.

“Because I want to be,” was her malformed answer, likely in shock that the Orc before her was capable of speech, let alone acquiring the ability to converse with her.

Her eyes remained upon the floor. Upon quick inspection, Sloane noticed her arms and legs were bound with coils of thick rope.



He approached her slowly and sat upon the bed. She flinched a tad.

“Tell me why you are here,” the Orc said in a direly serious tone, being sure their stares locked.

Her aqua irises shifted quickly between his two darker ones rapidly, as if attempting to seek the answer within him.

“Please, I want you-”

“No you don't,” he said to cut her off, “you don't want any of this.”

“Yes I do!” she almost shouted.

Sloane detected raw fear in her voice. He silenced her with a large hand cupped over her lips. Tears began streaming down her eyes as she looked back at him.

“You are part of the Slave Cargo, aren't you?” Sloane asked her, releasing his hold on her mouth for an answer.

Her expression reverted back to untamed fear. She looked as though she would scream; Sloane's silencing hand was at the ready.

“Yes,” she finally managed to say, the one word appearing to take every last vestige of her strength to utter.

She looked tired. Drained.



Sloane got to his feet from the bed, his massive and hardened body now towering above the woman. The thoughts that were running through his head, despite the fact that he was even considering such a thing, may strip him of his title amongst the Horde and label him vagrant. He couldn't believe the words even as they left his mouth.

“I'm freeing you,” he said to her, an enormous hammer falling upon a bell within his mind.

She looked up at him. Gone were the looks of fabricated arousal and detest. Now, only hope resonated from those glowing irises.

“You can't-”

“I will,” he sliced her sentence short as he sat beside her again and released a small knife from his boot.

He cut away the ropes holding her small frame together quickly. As the ropes fell away from her arms, he straightened her clamped legs with one hand while preparing the cut the material with the other.

“Stay still,” he instructed as the blade began ripping through the coils.



The final rope fell away with a harsh snap, sending the woman's thighs jutting open. Sloane could feel a bit of color creep into his face in the few moments he witnessed the soft looking petals of her vagina. He turned away from her, noticing her face was equally as red. His hands unclasped the long, flowing cloak from his back and offered it to her. She took it with a shaky hand.

“I don't know who you are,” she began as the cloak weaved around her naked body, “but I am in your debt.”

“Sloane,” he replied to the girl, “my name is Sloane.”

“My name is Claire,” the woman replied while holding a slender hand for a shake.

He took it in his own gently. She nodded with a smile.

“Well, if we are going to get somewhere, let's-”

The sentence was cut short as she attempted placing weight on her feet. She let out a surprised and pain stricken wail, her body thumping to the floor. Sloane quickly stooped down, realizing both her feet were crudely bound with dirty looking bandages. Dark blood began rapidly staining the bandage wrapped to her left foot.



“This will not do,” Sloane said quickly as he took a seat next to the shuddering Human.

He took her foot in his hand and quickly unraveled the hastily applied fabric. He winced to see the appendage; smaller cuts ran down her skin near the toes, one much larger and deeper gash splitting up her ankle, now readily bleeding. He wordlessly dipped his hand into a bag hanging from his waist and procured a Netherweave Bandage. A proper dressing, his mind told him.



He saw that Claire was biting down on a finger, probably to avoid making any additional sound as he pressed the material tightly to her wound. Those types of sounds wouldn't be suspicious whatsoever in the implied situation, his mind seemed to answer his observation. As far as the Goblin was aware, he was making love to this woman at this moment.



“Let's leave this place,” Sloane stated as he was finished with applying fresh bandages to both feet.

She nodded to him as she took his hand to stand. The shock in her face mirrored his satisfaction as she realized she could walk fairly well, despite the massive injury just beneath the supportive bandages.

“Feel better?” he asked her in rhetoric.

He nodded to him quickly, then turned to the door. A warm arm wrapped around his'. She pressed her weight against him heavily; perhaps she was not completely able to walk he thought. It was time to leave.



“What in Azeroth do you think you're doing, Orc?” the Goblin now called out to him with harsh surprise as the two of them touched down upon the last step of the stairway.

Sloane freed himself of her light hold.

“Stay here,” he said to her quietly while grabbing a hold of her shoulders and guiding her to a step to sit.

Once seeing she was comfortable, his stare turned to the wide eyes Goblin now standing before him. Sloane's lip curled in anger.

“Whatever I want, little Goblin,” he muttered the words softly, yet with enough venom to purge life from a Kodo.

The smallish green being recoiled a bit, but held his ground.

“You're fired!” he shouted to him, “Hazil never gets stolen from. Mark my words, you will regret this day!”

“I'm regretting it already,” Sloane shot back to the Goblin as he approached the Human again.

She held out her hand first. Perhaps she began to trust him?



Together, they walked to the exit.

“You will not get away with this, you maggot!” Hazil's words rang behind him, “is an insect worth rescuing Sloane? An Orc and a Human, how disgraceful!”

His words were long lost to mindful ear as he shoved upon the door and exited the building with Claire.