Commander Pinter Ch. 05

"Enough!" a voice thundered through the sky. "You will go no further, you Azeroth insects!"

Pinter had never heard the voice before. It was probably the Sorcerer King. She didn't have time to think, though, as she and the Worgen druid finally came to a stop at the bottom of the hill that had burst into existence, splitting down the middle of the amphitheater. She climbed to the top and caught a glimpse of Mandala and the others finding their feet.

And then she flew backwards again as something powerful hit her gut, knocking the wind out of her.

* * *

"Pinter!"

Mandala ran to the top of the hill that split the amphitheater in two. This had all happened so fast, the disastrous results of their battle with the Butcher, the moment of grief and rage over fallen comrades and one person's stupidity, and the earthquake. The dust had settled, and Pinter stood at the hill's summit. Mandala saw Pinter, and then she was gone.

A white wall blocked the other half of the amphitheater now. There was nothing. Mandala reached the top of the hill and touched the wall with her hands, her palms going cold with the sensation of slick stone. She ran her hands back and forth, finding nothing useful, and she pounded on it with her fist in frustration.

"That won't do any good," the Draenei priest said. "There's no way through."

Mandala gave the wall one last punch, her red plate glove absorbing much of the impact, and she rested her forehead against the odd surface. If Pinter was still there, they couldn't get to her. Not easily, at least.

Mandala turned and slowly descended the hill.

"We'll have to move on without her," the Gnome said.

"How?" the Night Elf asked. "That was our only route."

"Make a portal and get us across," the priest said.

"It doesn't work that way," the Night Elf said with growing agitation.

"I've seen it done before," the priest said.

"Then you were dreaming," the Night Elf said. "I have to know every inch of what's on the other side. Otherwise I'm blindly throwing us into the nether. Who knows where we'll land?"

"What a group!" the priest exclaimed, tossing his hands in the air. "Three useless dead, a paladin who doesn't know how to bubble, and a mage who doesn't know what a portal is."

"You have no idea what you are talking about," the Night Elf said.

"I know a group of idiots when I see one," the priest said. "The Naru themselves only know where Khadgar found the lot of you. Some load of good our wonderful commander did, too. At least she's gone now, and I suggest..."

A red plated hand landed on the priest's shoulder. He turned.

Mandala punched him straight across the mouth.

* * *

Pinter writhed, clutching her stomach. She winced through the pain and had to will the breath back into her. She hadn't slipped. Something had struck her. Something that wanted her on this side, away from the others. Pinter found her knees and sat on her haunches. A white wall stretched across the top of the hill. She didn't have to look. There was no way through. She and the Worgen druid were trapped on this side.

The red-haired kid was curled up in his human form, crying his eyes out. The body of his friend was on the other side of the hill. Everyone else, living or dead, was on the other side of the hill. It was just Pinter and the druid. She stood, wincing again as her stomach pinched. She picked up her crossbow, and she walked to him.

"We have to go," Pinter said. She knelt beside him as he cried and put her hand on his shoulder. "Get up. Now."

She pulled on the druid. He rolled over mostly on his own. There was so much hurt in his eyes. Pinter's heart broke again, but she maintained her demeanor. "Get up," she said.

"Anna," the druid cried.

"I'm sorry," Pinter said. "Really I am, but there's nothing we can do. We're exposed out here."

A signal horn sounded, piercing like a hunter's call. Pinter looked sharply in that direction as the raspy shouts of Ogres drew near. "We have to go," she said.

"But Anna..."

"Now!" Pinter shouted, grabbing the druid, pulling him to his feet. She looped her arm over his shoulder and hauled him across the open amphitheater. The druid moved his feet, but she dragged him most of the way to a shadowy tunnel.

A team of Ogres stormed through the amphitheater just as they dropped inside. They ran wild and bloodthirsty with stone hammers and spiked clubs that were taller than Pinter. She held the druid down flat in the tunnel and covered his mouth. Thankfully he understood and went silent. Pinter's heart beat loudly in her ears, and she thought she heard the druid's beating just a little faster. She let him go when the noises outside the tunnel finally faded.

"How did this happen?" the druid asked. "Khadgar chose us."

"One person's mistake can cost us all," Pinter said, listening hard for any more signs of danger. "But we're going to have to move. Can you go protection for me?"

"Can I what?"

"This place will be crawling with Ogres," Pinter said. "Between us and whatever other monstrosities the Sorcerer King has in place. I can tackle most of them, but if there are too many I will be overwhelmed. I need you to distract them."

"You mean become a bear?" the druid asked.

"Yes," Pinter said. "Whatever it is you druids do. Become a bear and fight with me."

"I can't."

"Of course you can," Pinter said.

"I can't do it," the druid said.

"What do you mean?" Pinter asked, sitting up, rising above him. "Take an animal form, or become a werewolf or something. You're a damned Worgen, for fuck sake."

The druid shrank beneath her, and Pinter cursed herself for being so harsh with him. He was scared. He was used up. This could be his first fight, much like Pinter's first fight in the Bloodmaul Slag Mines. That one hadn't gone so well, either, and it was only by the grace of a chance encounter that she survived. This druid could still do great things. He just needed some time. But time was something that was quickly running out.

Pinter sat with her legs crossed. They breathed for a while in the tunnel. A little bit of light shone onto the floor, and he was there. A handsome young man, maybe Pinter's age, probably a little younger. He had a close-shaved beard as red as the hair on his head, and his blue eyes stared at the dirt, deep in thought. "What's your name?" Pinter asked.

"Jarvus," he said.

"That other one," Pinter said. "The silver one. Anna. Was she your friend?"

"My sister," Jarvus said. "My twin sister."

Pinter stroked Jarvus's back through her gloved hand. "Had you fought together long?"

"Since Gilneas," the druid said. "We were in Alterac Valley when the call came for the Vanguard. We joined. We listened to stories about you and Mandala battling the Iron Horde for a month. This was the first time Khadgar asked for our help. We jumped on it."

"Then he saw something in you two," Pinter said. "You were meant to be here."

Jarvus swallowed. He shifted into his elbows, and he sat up, joining Pinter. "I couldn't even save her," Jarvus said.

"But she saved you," Pinter said. "I saw it. She carried us all. You are here, and that's all that matters."

"I don't know if I can transform again," Jarvus said, genuinely sorry. "I want to. For some reason I just can't remember how."

Pinter touched Jarvus's face, brushed his beard with her fingertip. "You can do it," she said. "I know you will."

Jarvus looked in her eyes, and Pinter froze. She absently opened her hand, fully touching his face with her palm. Her fingers slipped behind his ear, and blood rushed through her head with a loud whine. Jarvus's pupils dilated for just a second, and she pulled him in, planting her lips softly but firmly on his.

Jarvus's hands rose startled, but then he placed them on Pinter's shoulders, holding her as they kissed. Pinter didn't think. Rational thought had nothing to do with this. Something inside her told her to, and she acted. She held the back of Jarvus's head and kissed him over and over, opening her mouth, gasping as their tongues roped against each other tender and slick. Pinter breathed heavily, gripping Jarvus tight now, and she pulled against his spaulders, opened his shirt over his athletic chest, held his bare upper body against her as Jarvus did the same to her, and then his hands clutched her breasts. His face was in Pinter's cleavage, and his lips locked around her nipple.

Pinter hissed with pleasure and held his head against her. Her crotch was on fire. She had to get out of her pants. Pinter pushed Jarvus onto his butt, and she fought with her clasps. She opened her leggings and yanked them away. Jarvus touched her, and Pinter moaned. His fingers rubbed her labia, poked inside her, and rubbed away the hood of her clit. Pinter let him rub her for a few seconds, letting her heat rise, letting herself roil aroused, and she wanted him.

Pinter crouched, and Jarvus's pants were gone in an instant. She saw his erection in the darkness. He wasn't huge. He wasn't disappointing, probably a good eight inches, but Pinter was so used to being fucked by Orcs that she had forgotten what to expect from Human men. She didn't care. She needed him, and she crouched over him. Pinter held his cock in her right hand, guided it to her pussy, and lowered.

Pinter wrapped her legs around Jarvus, locking them tight behind him. Jarvus sat upright, and they fucked. Jarvus pushed up and into her as she bounced, as her breasts pressed against his chest, and she kissed him. Pinter held herself firmly in Jarvus's grasp, and she worked herself closer. He wasn't huge, but his cock was just the right length to hit her spot. She worked it, rotating her hips, leaning back with just enough space between them that she angled just right with his hand supporting her lower back. Jarvus sensed it, and he adjusted his thrusts. He was spot on. Pinter hooked her arms around the back of Jarvus's neck, and already she felt the wave of an orgasm building deep inside. Her skin burned to the touch, and Pinter sped up.

Jarvus fucked her in return. Pinter closed her mouth tight to muffle her cries, careful not to give away their position in the tunnel, but a few of her moans reverberated. Jarvus covered her mouth. They locked eyes, and Pinter finally saw it.

Jarvus's pupils went vertical. His eyes turned yellow. She didn't stop fucking him as his beard spread across his face, down his neck, onto his chest, and then his nose elongated with his mouth, which filled with a row of sharp teeth. The hand over Pinter's mouth turned into a paw with four heavy claws, and his upper body expanded in width by half a foot. His pectorals bulged out, his muscles going powerful and ripped all up and down his body. Pinter watched the transformation and kept bouncing, and she sped up as the same transformation happened inside her. Jarvus's cock grew twice as fat and five inches longer.

The feeling was heaven, that painless tearing sensation, almost an itch at your body's extreme limit of arousal that makes you want to come just to ease the pressure. A joyful hurt. Pinter's vision blurred with tears as Jarvus's cock filled her up, as he gripped her with his free arm, lifted her as he rose up straight up from the floor, onto his knees, and pounded her vigorously. He was truly a beast. A wolf once again. He snorted through his clenched teeth, and finally Pinter moaned loudly through his paw as her orgasm overwhelmed her. Her spine and hips bucked as her belly convulsed, as her canal gripped his cock in spastic twitches. Jarvus furrowed his wolf brow and growled, and just when she thought he would come inside her he pulled out.

Pinter's juices flowed freely between her legs as his first blast of hot cum sprayed her belly. Jarvus slid her from his grip and crouched, and she put her mouth on his cock after taking a shot that splattered her face. Pinter sucked the rest of what Jarvus ejaculated, and she swallowed, coming back up on her knees as he lowered himself. She hugged him close and he nuzzled her. They caught their breath. "Thank you," Jarvus said, his voice the fearsome snarl that she had expected from a true Worgen.

"Thank you," Pinter said with proper emphasis.

They cleaned up, and a few minutes later Pinter tightened her gloves and settled her spaulders on her shoulders. She checked her crossbow, counted the ten arrows she had remaining, and nodded at Jarvus. "Be a bear for me," she said.

Jarvus, crouching in front of her in the form of a red-haired grizzly bear, snarled in a menacing show of ferocity. Pinter grinned wickedly and nodded.

They rushed out the other end of the tunnel, away from the amphitheater, and emerged in a stadium filled with screaming Orcs and howling Ogres in the stands. Pinter and Jarvus stopped, looking around in confusion.

"What the devil is this?" Jarvus growled.

"I don't know," Pinter said as a gate opened on the other side of the arena. Out ran two Ogre mages and a Saberon shaman. "Just start killing."

Jarvus rose high on his hind legs and roared, stopping their adversaries in their tracks just long enough for Pinter to fire two well-aimed headshots at the mages. They fell heavy, and dead. The Saberon shaman shook off his fear in time to raise four totems that formed some sort of barrier, making Jarvus bounce harmlessly away as he dove. Jarvus renewed his attack, clawing and slashing, leaving deep marks on whatever wall the shaman had created as the Saberon cast quickly and viciously, sending fire down on Jarvus that may or may not have hurt him. Pinter couldn't tell. She lined up more shots at the totems in the ground, dodging fireballs that fell from the sky and blocking out the wild cheers of the crowd. She rolled clear of a fireball, found her knees, and shot at the totem closest to Jarvus.

The wooden post exploded in splinters, and he was through. The Saberon tried to raise a new barrier, but Jarvus was on him. It was over fast. Pinter ended it with a headshot before the Saberon suffered too much.

The crowd booed loudly as Pinter joined Jarvus, retrieving her spent arrows. "I told you you could do it," she said. Jarvus roared triumphantly.

"What is this?" a familiar voice said. Pinter had heard it yesterday in the Mok'Gul camp. She turned and looked up at the crowd, and there he was.

"You owe me a fight, Commander of the Vanguard," Kargath said, pointing down at Pinter with his bladefist. The gray-skinned Orc's long black hair flowed in a gust of wind that swept over the Walled City. "You owe me a death, and I will take an extra one as interest on your debt."

Jarvus rose up beside Pinter. Pinter raised her crossbow. "Feel like making history?" Pinter asked.

Jarvus roared.

The crowd cheered as Kargath leapt from the stands into the arena, silhouetted against the late day sun, his bladefist high overhead.