A Savage Nature (Warcraft)

A/N: Just a heads up, there are actually TWELVE more chapters after this Epilogue. Things get a fair bit smuttier and also more ridiculous, but I hope you guys give them a try all the same!

If you've enjoyed reading this story, please check out The Soul Engine for me! It would mean a lot to me!

-x-X-x-

Ultimately, the Battle for Theramore Isle had ended without a single casualty… without even a single shot fired. Hell, to pretty much everyone else, there hadn’t really even been a battle, merely a tense standoff that had ended peaceably enough.
 
But for Rognak, who knew exactly how things could have gone, it was so much more than that. His memories told him what likely would have happened if Daelin Proudmoore had actually been at the helm of the Kul Tiran Fleet. And with Jaina pregnant with his child, it might have even been worse than what those memories said would have occurred.
 
All in all, having learned what happened to the man from Jaina after all was said and done, Rognak felt oddly lucky and also a little guilty over his relief at the Lord Admiral’s predicament. He also suspected that ‘Acting’ Lord Admiral Katherine Proudmoore would not be merely ‘Acting’ for long. He found himself agreeing with Jaina’s prognosis that Daelin probably wasn’t going to be ABLE to recover if there was really nothing more that the Tidesages of Kul Tiras could do for him.
 
He might not be dead yet, but Kul Tiras’ bedridden Lord Admiral probably wasn’t long for this world, and in the interim, he certainly wasn’t in any position to lead the island nation as he had previously. Was it bad that that just might be the best outcome that he and Jaina could hope for?
 
… At the same time, Rognak finds himself pondering some of his memories from his other life. Specifically, he finds himself thinking about the parts of the game that had focused on Kul Tiras and its troubles. If Katherine did become Lord Admiral in truth in this world as she had in his memories, then Rognak suspected she would experience the same problems and the same shit that he recalled happening in a future ‘Fourth War’ that he felt was never going to happen this time around.
 
But even still, much of that was over ten years away still. A lot of it didn’t need to be handled right this moment. Rognak wasn’t about to leave Jaina’s mother to deal with all of that shit on her own, and he suspected Jaina would want to step in and handle certain individuals like the duplicitous Lady Ashvane with her own two hands once he told her about the conniving woman. But with Jaina in her current state, he wasn’t about to stress her out anymore than she already was. Best to leave it be for the time being.
 
Still, all was well that ended well right? Though, given what he just got done thinking about, it was never truly over. This wasn’t even close to the ‘end’. They’d come to a point where much of Rognak’s knowledge was becoming more and more… degraded. He hated to say ‘useless’ because that wasn’t ever going to be fully the case, but there was simply too much drift between the world he lived in now and the world he’d played as a video game.
 
And yet… that did not mean Azeroth was at peace. Nor that every possible enemy they could face was beaten. Not by a long shot. Azeroth was a Death World. And not only were its own denizens exceedingly dangerous and deadly on a rapidly accelerating scale in their own right, but it was also the treasure that the Burning Legion’s Master sought. The Dark Titan Sargeras would stop at nothing to one day reach Azeroth’s World Soul and with the loss of key individuals like Illidan Stormrage, it would fall to the rest of them to make sure he didn’t succeed in his goals.
 
Even beyond the Legion though, Azeroth had suffered its way through one calamity after the other in the years to come. And Rognak had only dealt with some of those threats. The Lich King might be gone and the Scourge nothing more than a disorganized rabble of undead slated for destruction, but that was only the beginning. Likewise, Kael’thas, Illidan, and Vashj had never gone on to Outlands. What their absence would mean for that dying world, Rognak had no clue. And finally, the Nightmare Lord had been defeated.
 
The Emerald Dream was clear in a way Rognak knew it had not been in a long, long time. The Emerald Nightmare itself probably wasn’t entirely gone and would not be for as long as the Old Gods continued to lurk across the face of Azeroth, entrenched in the world’s surface like a bunch of festering pustules. But there was no denying that the Dream was doing better than it had been in a long, long time. Without Xavius’ constant presence in the background, the Old Gods would need to find new servants to infiltrate the Dream going forward.
 
Also, Rognak had to wonder… with Kael’thas and his Blood Elves not being there to conquer Tempest Keep and send the Draenei in a frenzied panic hurtling towards Azeroth, would the exiled fragment of the Eredar Race ever come to be on Azeroth at all? Maybe they would still find their way to Azeroth, but without the Blood Elves to sabotage the Exodar’s engine, it was entirely possible they would go elsewhere… maybe even linking up with the Army of Light.
 
Rognak didn’t know what the Draenei’s fate would be in this new version of events, though privately he thought it might be best if they never arrived on Azeroth. He was a little biased in that regard though. Convincing Katherine Proudmoore to set aside the grief and anger over the loss of her oldest son to the first Horde was one thing. But somehow managing to convince the surviving Draenei to let bygones be bygones and ignore the fact that the Horde had individuals who had actively played a part in such atrocities as the ‘Path of Glory’… that was another matter entirely.
 
To be clear, Rognak believed every word he’d said to Katherine Proudmoore about the bright future of the Horde under Thrall’s leadership. He just had to make sure that Thrall didn’t toss the position of Warchief to the first fucking spunky young orc who came along with a glint of ambition in his eye. Or worse, hand it over to a fucking banshee of all things. Yes, Rognak knew that second one wasn’t technically Thrall’s doing. But the orc had facilitated it through his actions all the same.
 
Privately, the orc druid intended to keep Thrall in the position of Warchief for as long as his fellow orc still lived. He would browbeat the damn shaman into maintaining the role no matter what it took, through whatever trials and tribulations the world of Azeroth encountered. Only in the worst case scenario would Rognak ever take on the mantle himself… after all, who the fuck would want that much responsibility?
 
Still… there were many more threats that had yet to be dealt with. Threats that would make themselves known in the years to come, and that Rognak wasn’t entirely sure how to even go about tackling just yet.
 
He’d told Ysera some of it. Specifically, he’d told the Dreamer about Malygos’ madness and Deathwing’s return. Ysera had been VERY interested to learn that the Destroyer was currently resting in the heart of Deepholm. As Rognak had hoped, the Dragon Aspects had wanted to chase after Deathwing following the Battle of Grim Batol, but not only could they not discern where he’d gone, they weren’t sure what state he was in.
 
Finding out not only his location but also his dire straits, Ysera had made it clear that she was going to bring the matter to her fellow Aspects… while being more discreet in how she would handle Malygos’ instability. But hey, maybe getting to kill Deathwing would go a long way to fixing Malygos’ mental maladies. Who knew, right?
 
Though even if Deathwing was killed before he could cause the Cataclysm and untold amounts of damage to Azeroth, Rognak knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. The minions of the Void still lingered, after all. From Elemental Lords like Ragnaros to their masters the Old Gods. All were here on Azeroth… or in the case of the Elemental Lords, one step away from being summoned to Azeroth to do their masters’ bidding.
 
C’thun would be the first to stir from what Rognak remembered. Ahn’Qiraj would make their presence known soon enough, though at least from Shandris’ reports of Feralas it didn’t sound like they were pushing out quite yet. No sign of massive bugs in Un’Goro or Tanaris either just yet, nor in the Barrens which was as far as where they’d pushed before being discovered previously from what Rognak recalled.
 
He had some of his Warsong Druids watching on that front, along with other members of the newly formed Cenarion Circle.
 
Of course, after C’thun it was Yogg-Saron. HIS machinations had been a lot longer in the making though from what Rognak understood. He’d told Ysera about that too, about Ulduar and how it had likely already fallen to Yogg-Saron’s corruption. The Old God had turned his prison into his kingdom and corrupted his wardens. Whether anything could be done or not about that, Rognak didn’t know. He was just an orc after all, there was only so much he could be expected to handle.
 
Setting aside the continent of Pandaria entirely, seeing as one literally could not get there until the Mists lifted, that just left N’Zoth and Azshara and the whole-ass Naga Empire. N’Zoth was said to be the weakest of the Old Gods, but when you’re dealing in terms of gods, the weakest can still crush you like an ant, can it not? Ultimately, him and his plans would also have to be dealt with eventually, Rognak figured.
 
Those were just some of the bigger dangers too. That didn’t take into account the political landscape of things. Word had reached them here in Kalimdor from across the sea… of ‘freed thinking’ undead roaming the remains of Lordaeron’s ruins. Tales of a Banshee Queen and her Forsaken had managed to make their way to Rognak’s ear.
 
It made sense. The specific events might have changed, but ultimately the destruction of Frostmourne had given Sylvanas the same opportunity that she would have had otherwise. An opportunity to break free as the Lich King was dying and Kel’Thuzad and the Dreadlords were all rushing to Northrend and to take as many of her ‘people’ with her as possible.
 
She even managed to make Varimathras her bitch from what Rognak was hearing of who was among her advisors.
 
So the Forsaken wallowed in the Ruins of Lordaeron. The Blood Elves tried to rebuild their homes in the destruction of Quel’Thalas. Meanwhile, reports of Stormwind being on the rise down in the South had also reached Kalimdor’s shores. There might still be an Alliance after all, once word of the Horde’s resurgence reached Stormwind in turn. An Alliance of humans, dwarves, and gnomes… but not elves.
 
That, Rognak still considered one of his greatest triumphs. In that regard he KNEW he was terribly biased, but all the same… he couldn’t help but be proud of himself even now. Preventing the Warsong Clan from cutting down a few trees had prevented… so much hardship, so much bloodshed in the long run. It had saved Cenarius’ life, but that was just the beginning.
 
The Night Elves and Orcs would have been mortal enemies if not for Rognak’s presence. They would have fought across the forest of Ashenvale for decades, ultimately culminating in a certain Banshee Queen taking the torch to the roots of Teldrassil and burning it all to the ground.
 
Instead, the Night Elves had not sequestered and isolated themselves in a new mere echo of a World Tree. And the orcs had not made mortal enemies of a long-lived, long-eared warrior race with incredibly long memories.
 
Instead, their two races were as close as could possibly be. The Night Elves might never join the Horde directly, but Rognak also knew they would never join the Alliance. They had no reason to in this world. In HIS world.
 
Either way, Rognak promised himself that he and his Warsong Druids would do everything they could in the years to come. Both to fight the massive existential threats to Azeroth herself, and to protect the ones they loved and the progress they’d managed to build in such a short amount of time.
 
And in the meantime… he would do his part to continue strengthening the bonds between his people and the Night Elves.
 
Initially, Rognak had been leery to leave Jaina’s side at this crucial moment. Especially with Jaina overseeing the departure of her mother and the Kul Tiran Fleet, as well as regaining control of her city. But everything had honestly been going so smoothly ever since the Horde and the Night Elf Fleet pulled away and everyone could breathe better.
 
In the weeks since then, Jaina had decided Rognak had become something of a hovering busybody… and gone behind his back to send a message to Shandris and Tyrande all but begging them to pull him away. He knew this because when the invitation to meet with the two of them had come all the way from Astranaar, Rognak had shown it to Jaina with the initial intentions of declining it.
 
Which had resulted in his heavily pregnant lover throwing her hands up in the air and exasperatedly telling him that SHE was the one who had arranged it in the first place. And that if he didn’t stop hovering over her and just GO already, she would be sorely tempted to see just how much of himself he could regrow once she started cutting things off.
 
… Yes, pregnant women could be very scary indeed.
 
That all said, that was how Rognak found himself here, in Astranaar. Specifically at the top of the Grand Temple of Elune that dominates the Capital City’s central island. This time, instead of coming crashing down on the balcony, Rognak enters the proper, much more polite way, making his way past Sentinel Guards who all nod him through until finally he knocks on the door to the High Priestess’ private chambers.
 
The door opens and Tyrande stands there in her usual attire, a smile on her face.
 
“Ah, wonderful. Come in, Rognak. Shandris and I have much to discuss with you… about the future.”
 
Rognak can’t help the way he gives a crooked smile at that, even as he steps inside. Heh, the future. He’d just been thinking about the future, funnily enough. Very briefly, he wonders what future events the two Night Elves wish to discuss with him. Perhaps how to best coordinate between their peoples going forward? Or maybe they might want to talk about this idea he had, where they could seed some new settlements in Azshara that were both Night Elf and Orc populated. That way if the Naga ever DID show up in that region, they would be more ready for it.
 
… But no. He really should have known better. As he moves further into the private chambers of Elune’s High Priestess and Tyrande closes the door behind him, Rognak’s eyes fall upon Shandris Feathermoon, the Sentinel General and his lover waiting on the bed.
 
Of course. THAT future.
 
Heh, he really should have known.

-x-X-x-

While Shandris naked and sprawled out on Tyrande’s bed is enough to let Rognak know precisely what’s going on here… and what the two Night Elves intend to happen next, he has to admit, he’s a little taken aback by the startlingly vulnerable look in the Sentinel General’s eyes. Shandris Feathermoon is a tough cookie, there’s no doubt about that. She’s remarkably calm under pressure and able to navigate her way through most situations with ease.
 
Rognak’s first thought is that Shandris is embarrassed to be seen naked by her adoptive mother. She and Tyrande might not share actual blood, but the Sentinel General had still been raised by the High Priestess of Elune. Of course, it had been ten thousand years since Shandris was a child. One couldn’t really say that she’d been raised by Tyrande ALL that time, now could they?
 
More than that though, Shandris had been pushing for this since the Battle of Mount Hyjal. Rognak had literally listened to her make a pretty godawful pass at Tyrande, one that had sent Tyrande fleeing from the scene in sheer mortification. So for Shandris to be embarrassed now that she was finally getting what she wanted after all this time… that part didn’t make much sense.
 
And yet… there was no denying that the Night Elf on the bed seemed incredibly self-conscious. She wiggles under his gaze and averts her eyes, unable to look him in the face. Meanwhile, Tyrande comes up behind him, running a hand along his shoulder and down his arm.
 
“You’re overdressed, Chieftain.”
 
As she steps past him, Rognak notes that the High Priestess of Elune makes no move to remove her own dress. Instead, she hikes it up as she reaches the bed, kicking off her shoes but moving to join Shandris without actually removing the long, flowing, glistening white garment. Rognak raises an eyebrow at this, but quickly sets about removing his robes, his thick cock already throbbing and steadily growing hard with need.
 
While he strips naked, Tyrande moves to her daughter’s head and lifts it up, slipping effortlessly into place so that Shandris’ head is now resting on her lap as she kneels there with her legs out to one side. There’s a beatific smile on Tyrande Whisperwind’s face as she runs her hands through her adoptive daughter’s hair, while Shandris just blushes deeply, biting her lower lip as she alternates between looking up into Tyrande’s eyes and glancing over at Rognak and his now exposed cock.
 
Slowly approaching the bed, Rognak gives the two Night Elves a curious look and a crooked smile.
 
“The future, huh?”
 
Shandris looks a little chagrined, but Tyrande’s smile just widens and she nods.
 
“Tell me, Rognak… did you not wonder?”
 
Blinking in confusion, Rognak frowns.
 
“Wonder what?”
 
Tyrande nods down at her naked daughter.
 
“All these months… all this time as Shandris’ lover. You managed to impregnate Jaina Proudmoore swiftly enough, but despite seeding my daughter just as often, it never took in her womb. Did you not wonder why not?”
 
Rognak’s lips thin out at that. Truth be told, he hadn’t thought about it. He hadn’t been thinking about it with Jaina either. Perhaps he should have. Perhaps the responsible thing to do would have been to communicate with both of his lovers, to find out what their expectations regarding children were and make sure to avoid any… accidents.
 
But there was no use crying over spilt milk. As far as Jaina was concerned, the accident was a happy one… even with the kerfuffle caused by a certain too-short letter sent across the sea and read by eyes it was never intended for. But as for Shandris… Rognak hadn’t ever gotten the impression that his Night Elf lover wanted children. But he also hadn’t asked.
 
“I have communed with Elune on this subject and found out the truth. Night Elf reproduction rates are already plenty low among our own kind as it is. A side effect of our immortality that should begin to fade now that we have lost eternal life. However, because of this… the chance that a Night Elf will successfully procreate with another race is infinitesimal. Not impossible… but highly improbable.”
 
Rognak’s eyes widen at that and he looks at Shandris with new eyes. The beautiful, naked Night Elf still won’t look him in the eye so he climbs onto the bed and between her spread legs, grasping at her thighs all of the sudden in a rough way that makes her gaze snap to him as her breath hitches.
 
“Shandris… I realize I should have asked this ages ago… but do you want children?”
 
Under the watchful eye of the High Priestess of Elune, Shandris blushes even harder but finally nods.
 
“Y-Yes… if they’re with you, then yes… I do.”
 
Rognak nods seriously, before looking to Tyrande expectantly. In response, Tyrande’s smile grows a little… wicked.
 
“Elune has shown me a way to… bless the unions between Night Elves and those of the other races. Given the losses we sustained during the Legion’s Invasion, given the number of male druids killed in the Barrows… it will likely be necessary in the long-term. That said… I shall bless this union now.”
 
All of the sudden, Tyrande is glowing with radiant light. Her eyes blaze white and her entire body glows ever so slightly. That glow travels down her arms and through her hands into Shandris’ head on her lap before extending down the length of the Sentinel General’s naked body. Shandris gasps and her back arches as a throaty moan leaves her lips. Her slit is inches away from his cock as Rognak kneels there between her legs, watching this… religious experience unfold.
 
Finally, the glow fades and Tyrande’s smile softens a fair bit as she inclines her head.
 
“It is done. That said… my Goddess recommends drawing on your own abilities to make sure your seed takes, Rognak. Apparently if there is one thing that Nature is good at, it is ensuring new life blossoms even in barren environments. After my Blessing however… Shandris’ womb is FAR from barren.”
 
Reading between the lines, it sounds like Tyrande just did some sort of short-form fertility ritual on Shandris that made it more likely any seed delivered to her womb for the next who knows how long would take. But at the same time… yeah, Tyrande was right. He hadn’t really thought about it too much before… and he’d never gone out of his way to do it either. However, he should definitely be able to make something happen.
 
Moving in closer and focusing on his connection to Nature, Rognak lets out a low, shuddering breath as his thick, green, bulbous cockhead presses against Shandris’ glistening wet slit. The Night Elf moans beneath him as he slowly but surely begins penetrating her, inch after inch of his throbbing mast disappearing inside of her as she shudders and quakes.
 
At the same time, Rognak is reaching out to Nature itself… and like a fond friend, Nature answers him. He’s always had an easy time of it. So easy that he struggled to teach his fellow orcs the ways of the druid at first. Druidism came naturally to him in a way that it did no other. Rognak had long known that this was because of the number of entities who had blessed him with minor fractions of their power in exchange for the Outsider’s information regarding their fates. Wild Gods, Loa… and even the Goddess of the Moon herself, just to name a few.
 
Now though, it’s as though Nature itself has developed conscious thought. Rognak could swear he feels the magic swirling within him impishly giggling in delight, even as he turns it towards something he’s never done before. He’s not trying to transform into an animal. He’s not trying to alter the weather conditions, or grow plant life, or heal someone’s wounds.
 
No, Rognak is doing something far less… noble. Then again, maybe it is noble if it’s ensuring the future of the Night Elves. Sure. Let’s go with that. Him focusing his Nature Magic on his own genitals, more specifically on his balls, and increasing his virility tenfold… it was a noble endeavor. Most definitely.
 
Rognak grunts as his balls become downright laden with super-charged seed. With a lustful growl, he finds himself thrusting the rest of the way into Shandris, no longer able to hold back. The beautiful Night Elf squeals as her taut abs bulge with the sheer size of him, her eyes half-rolling back in her head from the sudden explosion of movement.
 
But Rognak is just getting started. Immediately he begins jackhammering in and out of Shandris like an orc possessed. And maybe he is possessed in a way. He’d tried to focus his power on his genitals, on making sure the next load he delivered to Shandris’ womb was as virile as it possibly could be. But he might have gone a little overboard, because that feeling is already flowing back out through the rest of him, leaving him feeling more energized than he’d been in a long time.
 
Fucking Shandris… if it weren’t for Tyrande’s presence, if the High Priestess weren’t there to hold her daughter steady, Rognak would probably have plowed Shandris right up to the wall at this point. As it is, Tyrande’s biceps bulge, showing just how strong the Priestess of Elune is despite her vocation as she acts as the hard place to Rognak’s rock… while Shandris remains trapped between them both.
 
The Sentinel General, so very strong and independent and downright willful… is reduced to a squealing mess by Rognak’s cock and his fast-paced thrusting. He himself feels half-reduced to a beast. He grunts and growls, pounding and plowing away at Shandris’ cunt. Single-minded focus means that his eye is most definitely on the prize… but he’s also staring down at Shandris’ shaking, shuddering body.
 
In short order, she’s glistening with sweat that drips off of her bouncing breasts and slides along her flexing, toned body. Rognak’s gaze is drawn to those breasts as he envisions his lover with a belly as big as Jaina’s and tits laden with milk. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s leaning forward and capturing Shandris’ nipples in between his teeth, biting at them hard enough to make the Night Elf scream and cream herself all over his cock.
 
Of course, she’s not lactating yet… but it’s only a matter of time he figures. Only a matter of… giving her what she wants. With a hoarse groan, Rognak thrusts forward one final time, having brought Shandris to at least half a dozen climaxes since they began. His balls, which had been churning with GREAT need before now, finally release their load which travels up the length of his cock faster than it ever has before.
 
He positively ERUPTS inside of Shandris Feathermoon, stuffing the beautiful Night Elf General with his super-charged seed. With the Blessing of Elune to increase her fertility and his connection to Nature to increase his virility, Rognak doesn’t have a single doubt in his mind. There’s no way that Shandris isn’t getting pregnant from this… and if on the off chance she doesn’t for whatever reason, then Rognak will just have to fuck her again and again until she is. Because that’s what she wants, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give it to her.
 
That said, as he pulls out and watches his seed slowly drool out of her freshly fucked, properly stuffed quim… Rognak tilts his head to the side and looks up at Tyrande. The High Priestess of Elune is staring down at where he and her adoptive daughter were joined, her eyes slightly wide at what she just witnessed and her lips parted as her tongue unconsciously slips out to lick at them.
 
Meanwhile, Rognak feels himself damn near vibrating with energy. His balls have been emptied of their super-charged load, but that doesn’t mean he’s not still raring to go. Shandris, unfortunately, doesn’t look like she’s in any state to go another round at the moment. He’d fucked her harder than he ever had before and given what some of their encounters have been like, that’s saying something.
 
Slowly, he and Tyrande wordlessly work together to lift Shandris up and lay her on the other side of the bed. Then, looking quite grave, Tyrande begins to undo the straps on her dress. Rognak lifts an eyebrow as the High Priestess divests herself of her garments, causing Tyrande to blush slightly in response.
 
“… It was my suggestion that left you in your current state. So I think it only fair that I… handle you the rest of the way, seeing as Shandris is currently down for the count. However, I will not be calling for my Goddess to bless me as I did with Shandris. Do not think that you will be inseminating TWO Night Elves this day.”
 
Well… fair enough. Rognak goes to shrug, only to pause as Tyrande, now naked, turns away from him and gets on all fours. Really? He never would have expected the High Priestess of Elune to engage in… doggystyle. Still, he doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Shuffling forward on his own knees, the orc druid reaches out and grabs Tyrande by her incredibly plush purple hips, sinking his cock into her glistening cunt from behind a moment later.
 
He’s still rock hard and full of energy, but his super-charged seed is no longer present. He would have to cast the magic he did before again to make something happen. And since Tyrande has already made it clear she doesn’t want that… he refrains. He would never force her to do anything she wasn’t ready for, all things considered.
 
Instead he settles in to fuck the beautiful High Priestess on her hands and knees, plowing her from behind with all of his pent-up energy. In turn, Tyrande cries out and arches her back, tossing her verdant green hair every which way. Rognak grunts, his eyes eventually sliding over to see Shandris on her side and watching them with a smile as she touches herself. The two of them make eye contact and Shandris’ smile widens as she mouths the words ‘I love you’ to him.
 
Rognak mouths them back of course, even as he continues to make Tyrande Whisperwind squeal on his cock.
 
… Yes, the world of Azeroth was a scary place. And while they had peace for now, there would always be another threat around the next corner. The danger would never truly pass. But in this moment at least, Rognak is as happy as he can be, sharing this moment with the ones he loves. He knows that whatever the future holds, he won’t be alone in facing it. And no matter what… they will overcome any obstacles in their way.

-x-X-x-

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