A Savage Nature (Warcraft)

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

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“Move, orc.”
 
Rognak grunts as the butt of a spear impacts with his lower back. He’s pushed forward by the blow, even as he looks back over his shoulder and narrows his eyes at the Myrmidon slithering behind him. The serpentine Naga’s eyes peer right back at him, goading him to make an aggressive move in response. With a huff, Rognak turns back around and keeps moving.
 
This was his own damn fault, wasn’t it? He just had to tempt fate, even though that was precisely what he was trying to avoid doing. But then, that was just how it went, wasn’t it? By avoiding what Fate had in store for him, he’d walked right into an even bigger mess. In his haste to get out of Lordaeron and back on his way to Kalimdor, he’d wound up here… walking through the Eternal Palace of Nazjatar.
 
That was just his luck, truth be told. He’d done everything possible to avoid meeting Princess Calia Menethil. He’d also done everything possible to avoid running into Vereesa Windrunner again. He was well aware that she was married with twins at this point, and he didn’t want any awkward reunions between them… or for Sylvanas to take matters into her own hands like she had with Liadrin and Sally.
 
No, it was better for all parties involved if he and his Warsong Druids went home before the summit that had been called in Dalaran between all of the factions who had a stake in Lordaeron’s future could take place. There had been a couple of teary goodbyes here and there, but ultimately none of the women Rognak had… become involved with during his trip to the Eastern Kingdoms had been in a place where they could follow him home.
 
Lady Liadrin had discovered a new passion for wearing plate armor and calling upon the Light in battle, Sally Whitemane was still a Scarlet Inquisitor and a diehard believer in the Scarlet Crusade’s purpose… and on a similar note, Sylvanas didn’t feel like she could just up and leave Lordaeron and the former Forsaken behind. They might be living humans again, but each and every one of them had still experienced a period of undeath as she had, something that the Scarlet Crusade and the Kirin Tor could not possibly begin to understand.
 
The Forsaken as Rognak knew them from the game would never exist, but the humans that they’d become still called themselves Forsaken, and they still pledged loyalty to their Lady Windrunner. Sylvanas was no longer the Banshee Queen nor the Dark Lady… but she would also never be Ranger-General of Silvermoon again. Instead, she had her own faction within the court that the soon-to-be-crowned Queen Menethil would create.
 
Rognak had wished all of them all the best and then got on a boat with his fellow orcs and began making his way back across the sea.
 
And then, a few days into their travels, the entire might of Nazjatar had come upon them in what could only be described as the most monumental middle finger Fate had ever orchestrated. For a moment, Rognak had wondered if he and those he’d brought with him were well and truly dead, seeing as they were but one ship facing down an army of tens of thousands of Naga.
 
But before a final stand could commence, one of the Naga had called out and said that everyone else could go if HE, Rognak, surrendered himself into their custody. Yes, they’d called him by name. Even by titles as well. Chieftain of the Warsong Clan. Archdruid of the Horde. They knew exactly who he was.
 
In that moment, Rognak had known he was likely screwed. In more ways than one. But if there was even a remote chance he could save everyone else… well, he’d take it every day of the week he supposed. Because somewhere along the way he’d become That Guy. The guy who made the sacrifice play. The guy who turned out to be the Big Damn Hero.
 
And so… here he was now, being escorted down an incredibly ornate, altogether grandiose hall within the depths of Nazjatar’s Eternal Palace. Home to the ruler of the Naga Empire… Queen Azshara herself. Maybe Rognak should have seen something like this coming. After everything else that had happened to him recently, being kidnapped by the most egotistical, narcissistic individual on Azeroth was just about par for the course, wasn’t it?
 
He'd done everything in his power to avoid meeting a Princess. And as a result, he was being brought before a Queen. Fate could go fuck itself.
 
They reach the large double doors at the end of the hallway and both slowly slide open without any visible assistance. Rognak is pushed forward into the room beyond, his hands unbound and his axe still on his back. But then, the Naga Myrmidons who had escorted him here number at over a dozen and are all damn near twice his size. They aren’t quite as concerned with his strength as the Kul Tiran Marines were back on Theramore all those years ago.
 
Hmph. He’s not used to feeling small. But at the same time, he can’t do anything but move into the room… which he’s both surprised and not surprised to realize is a bedroom, NOT a throne room as he initially expected. More than that…
 
“My Queen. The orc assss reuqesssted.”
 
“Leave us.”
 
“… My Queen. He isssss sssstill armed…”
 
There’s a brief pause at that, and then a bolt of pure arcane power manifesting in the form of a lightning bolt lances out and takes the uppity Myrmidon in the chest, sending him flying back in a smoking pile of charred Naga flesh. The other eleven Myrmidons hurriedly slither out of the bedroom and close the doors behind them.
 
Rognak however… continues staring. Because this is Azshara’s bedroom of course. He’s been brought before Queen Azshara herself. Except… she doesn’t look like he’d expect her to look at this point in time.
 
See, there are two versions of Azshara. There’s Azshara, Queen of the Night Elf Empire. That Azshara, before the War of the Ancients and the Sundering, was considered to be the most beautiful Night Elf alive. With golden eyes and beautiful blue skin and a body perfectly sculpted to make it clear that she was a gorgeous, perfect specimen.
 
Then, there was Azshara, Queen of the Naga Empire. That Azshara had made a pact with an Old God as she drowned from the results of her own actions. The Sundering had taken her and so many of her people and dumped a shit-ton of water on them, at which point N’Zoth had forced her to make a deal and Azshara had ultimately accepted. She’d become half-squid as a result, with multiple eyes, multiple arms, and multiple legs alongside plenty of other… changes.
 
The Queen of the Naga is who SHOULD have been before him now. But instead, despite Rognak literally standing in the depths of the Eternal Palace in the middle of Nazjatar… he finds himself looking at the Queen of the Night Elves. Queen Azshara has been restored to her former elven beauty. Her glowing golden eyes, her illustrious white hair, her beautiful blue skin. And that’s to say nothing of her impeccably sculpted face and body, her curvaceous form laid out before him on the bed on her side as she… poses for him.
 
There’s no other way to describe it. The last Queen the Night Elves ever had is posing for him as though he’s going to paint her like one of his French Girls or something. And as he stares, her grin grows wider and wider until finally, she breaks the silence.
 
“Greetings, Archdruid. Be welcome in my… mm, personal quarters.”
 
Said the spider to the fly. Rognak very carefully does not say that out loud though, even as he stays right where he is. They’re alone now, so by all rights he SHOULD go for Wolfsong and try to cut her head off right here and right now. But a few things stop him.
 
Number one, he’s never raised his weapon against a woman before and while Azshara is a villainess that many would say definitely deserved it, it’s still hard to shake that. Number two, she’s an incredibly powerful sorceress, with more arcane might at her fingertips then Dalaran’s entire Council of Six combined… in pretty much any of its incarnations. And number three, even if he did manage to kill her, he would still be trapped in the heart of her Empire, surrounded by countless simpering sycophants, all of whom would want him dead for daring to assassinate their Queen.
 
With those thoughts ringing in his head, Rognak clenches his jaw… and does his best to be respectful, bowing his head in her direction.
 
“Queen Azshara. Your Empire’s gloriousness is only outmatched by your personal beauty.”
 
Her eyes widen and so does her smile. Letting out a soft laugh, the Night Elf Queen pushes out of her pose and rises from her bed in such a graceful, elegant motion that Rognak is SURE it has to have been practiced. But… no, from what he knew about her, that was just how she was. Effortlessly perfect in ever way. Even still, he didn’t know how she’d managed to regain her original form. To have done so implied that she was either wearing an illusion… or she’d somehow slipped N’Zoth’s chains. And that second option was… harrowing to think about.
 
Noticing him looking at her again, Azshara lets out a breathy little laugh and runs her hands down her body, thrusting out her chest as she licks her lips.
 

“Like what you see, Archdruid? I can tell you do.”
 
Rognak narrows his eyes at that, assuming this to be a test.
 
“… I would not presume to comment on things… above my station, your Majesty.”
 
He’s expecting the flattery to continue being as effective as ever, which is why he’s so surprised when Azshara’s smile suddenly drops and her golden eyes narrow.
 
“I tire of this pathetic attempt at being something you are not. You are an Orc Chieftain. Savagery and Bloodlust made manifest. Act like it. Do you fear offending me? Allow me to confide something in you, Archdruid. Out of all of the measly little insects beneath my notice on this world… YOU will not offend me by simply being your true self. You have no clue how high your station as risen in my esteem. And seeing as I AM Queen Azshara, my esteem is the only one that matters.”
 
Blinking rapidly at that, Rognak takes a moment to process and parse her words. Is she being serious? Or is this another test? Well… if it is, he’s done being tested. He’d rather die on his feet being himself than die on his knees acting the part of some noble at court.
 
“Tch. What do you want then, Queen Azshara? You came after me specifically. So what do you want from me? And how did you drop the squid parts?”
 
He half-expects to be struck down for that last comment, but Azshara’s smile is blinding in response.
 
“That’s better. As for the answers to your questions… well, they’re all one in the same. I wanted to thank you, Archdruid. For the part you played in allowing me to be restored to this, my original form.”
 
The part HE’D played? Rognak narrows his eyes, thoroughly baffled. Fortunately, even if Azshara is confusing him with how she’s acting right now, there’s one thing about her personality that remains unchanged. That is, the Night Elf Queen LOVES to hear herself talk.
 
“It’s quite simple, really. Between your little concubine killing the two-headed ogre Cho’gall down in Feralas, and the Dragon Aspects journeying to Deepholm to strike down the Destroyer once and for all, you struck a greater pair of blows against the Old Gods then you could ever have imagined.”
 
Wait, what?
 
“See, while the ogre was not yet fully invested by his Old God Masters… Deathwing was. In turning the Aspect of Earth against his calling, his kin, and Azeroth herself, the Old Gods were forced to… overextend themselves dramatically. Each and every one of them played a part in making the Destroyer into what he was on the day of his execution.”
 
Hold on… was she saying what he thought she was saying?
 
“And after his near demise at Grim Batol, the Old Gods had to invest even more into their connection with Deathwing in order to keep him alive and heal him of his wounds. They had not yet pulled back again when the Aspects came upon him and slew him in Deepholm. As a result of this, a cascade of events took place.”
 
Azshara’s smug smile lets him know that SHE knows she has him completely hooked by this point. But then to be fair, how can he not hang off her every word?
 
“First, C’thun’s plans to reemerge have been broken and set back centuries, easily. Those bugs leaking out of Ahn’Qiraj will be quite easy to clean up without their Master’s power behind them. Second, Yogg-Saron’s machinations were discovered early by Thorim thanks to the reverberations that the Destroyer’s death caused. Loken was slain and the other Keepers were freed from the Old God’s mental domination.”
 
Those bombshells alone are enough to have Rognak reeling, but Azshara isn’t done yet, of course.
 
“And last but not least… N’Zoth. My old… business partner. I have you to doubly thank in that regard. Ever since the series of setbacks with the Emerald Nightmare, N’Zoth’s pet project, he has been forced to lean more and more heavily into his comrades’ plans. Including the Destroyer. I do not doubt if it weren’t for the Nightmare Lord’s death, that he wouldn’t have been quite so… invested.”
 
Shrugging her shoulders in a way that not only manages to STILL be graceful and elegant but also draws his eyes down to the perfect swell of her beautiful breasts, Azshara smiles.
 
“He was completely caught off guard when I marshalled my forces and used a certain… dagger that fell into my possession to cut off my and my people’s connection to him. Ah, if only I could have seen the look on his face when all of his machinations and plans resulted in him winding up locked away all the more tightly in his prison. The Naga Empire stands free and proud now… and answers to no one but me. As it should be. As it should always have been.”
 
For a long moment, Rognak just processes all of this. The ramifications are… heavy. While it’s good that Azeroth’s three remaining Old Gods have all been taken care of for the time being, it’s a little worrying to imagine a world where the Naga aren’t beholden to their Old God Master’s slow, methodical plotting.
 
But more than all of that… there’s just one thing niggling at the back of Rognak’s mind. One thing that he can’t quite wrap his head around.
 
Furrowing his brow, the Orc Archdruid looks at Azshara and asks her the only question worth asking at this point.
 
“… How do you know about all of those parts that you weren’t actually there for?”
 
Almost as if she hasn’t even heard him, Azshara doesn’t answer. Instead, she prowls forward with a predatory look on her face, purring as she reaches out and runs a hand down the part of his broad chest that his robes leave exposed. Her nails dig into his flesh a little bit, even as she licks her lips.
 
“I must admit, I was so very curious to find out what sort of orc could cause such… massive ripples.”
 
… He really should have been more surprised. But he wasn’t.
 
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“YES! HARDER! MORE YOU BIG SAVAGE ORC! FILL ME MORE!”
 
Turns out… Queen Azshara shared a favored position with Inquisitor Sally Whitemane. Not that Rognak was about to tell HER that. She’d probably kill him for the comparison, and then hunt down Sally and kill her as well just to send a message.
 
Regardless, the position that Rognak currently has the Queen of the Naga in is quite literally another Full Nelson. Stripped naked, Azshara is folded up in his grasp, her golden eyes rolled back in her head and her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she howls in ecstasy and bliss. She doesn’t beg though… she demands.
 
“MORE! MORE!”
 
In response, all Rognak can do is give her more. He’s already inadvertently manifested his draconic features in order to try and keep up with the insatiable Elven Queen. His claws lace behind her head as her back rubs against his scaled chest. All the while, his massive orcish cock splits open her gushing wet cunt, filling Azshara again and again with every last inch of his dick.
 
He has to admit… she’s easily in his top three lays just going off of body. Personality-wise, she doesn’t crack the top ten of course. The bitch is a Villain with a Capital V even if you ignore that she was enslaved by N’Zoth all of these millennia. After all, long before the Old God sunk his tentacles into her, Azshara was vain and narcissistic enough to literally try to summon the Burning Legion to Azeroth so she could be the Mad Titan’s Queen.
 
Just imagining what he knew of Sargeras’ real body and Azshara trying to get it on was a comical mental picture in Rognak’s opinion. Though he knew better than to express his amusement right now. Instead, he focuses on the task at hand, namely fucking her upon his cock and bouncing her folded up body up and down on his dick.
 
But seriously… she’s perfectly proportioned. He’s not sure if this was how her original body was or if she did some tune-ups when she finally got to shed all of that squid shit after breaking free of N’Zoth, but there’s simply no denying the end results are what they are. From her breasts to her waist, from her hips to her ass, and from her thighs to her legs, there isn’t a single part of her to complain about.
 
Even her toes are cute as they curl up in abject pleasure from the deep, penetrating dicking that he’s currently giving her. And Rognak has never been a foot man, in either life.
 
Her inner walls clench and squeeze around his cock in a heavenly manner as well, her pussy tightening up for him in a way that has Rognak groaning as he fucks her upon his dick, bouncing her folded up body on his member.
 
“GIVE IT TO ME! HARDER, ARCHDRUID! MORE!”
 
Everything about the Full Nelson Position was designed to make the recipient helpless. It was designed to make the woman in the equation completely and utterly beholden to the man. It was honestly designed to turn the receiver into nothing more than an over-sized fuck toy, a fleshlight for the male to bounce up and down on his cock to his heart’s content.
 
And yet, even now Azshara was as domineering and commanding as ever. It was a little… unnerving, Rognak had to admit. The Elven Queen was in a very unenviable position, but she wasn’t breaking upon his cock. She wasn’t begging either. No, she was ordering. She was demanding. She didn’t begrudge him his ‘savage nature’ as she’d put it. She didn’t force him to fuck her any certain way. But she still had way too much command over the situation, even in a Full Nelson.
 
With a snarl and a huff, Rognak abruptly yanks Azshara off of his cock and tosses her to the ground. The Queen of the Naga squeals as her perfectly sculpted body smacks against the floor of her bedroom, but before she can recover enough to get mad at him, he’s already on top of her.
 
Face down, ass up. That’s how Rognak chooses to take her next. But he doesn’t just stop there. He doesn’t just stop with forcing her ass high into the air, his hands on her hips and his massive green cock piercing down into her cunt from above. He doesn’t just jackhammer into her… he also positions himself in such a way that one of his large green feet can press down atop Azshara’s head from above, pushing her face further into the floor and muffling her cries, her squeals… and most importantly of all, her demands and orders.
 
“NNNNNGH! MMMMPH!”
 
Fucking her like this brings a broad smile to Rognak’s face. Her cunt continues to flex around his cock nonstop. Her pussy walls coat his length in her juices as she kicks her feet back behind him but doesn’t make any meaningful attempts to stop the rough treatment. If anything, she loves how brutally he’s fucking her. Her constant climaxes make that readily apparent.
 
And yet, he still feels like he’s riding a bucking bronco to be honest. He still feels like he can’t hesitate for even a moment. If he falters, he’s dead. Or maybe not dead but he knows he’ll lose any semblance of control he currently has over this situation. He has to keep going. He has to keep fucking her.
 
He feels as desperate as he has in any of his most dire moments. This doesn’t feel like sex, it feels like a battle… one that he’ll have to win if he wants to have any chance of going home again. Shandris. Jaina. Their children. All of his children, in fact. Their faces flash through Rognak’s mind and his speed redoubles as he lets out a bestial, orcish roar above Azshara’s perfectly sculpted blue ass.
 
Fucking the powerful Night Elf Queen all the more violently, he feels like he’s on the cusp of something… and not just his own release. But it does come all the same and right on its heels is a breakthrough that Rognak isn’t expecting.
 
Even as he cums deep inside of Queen Azshara, filling the vainglorious woman with his seed, Rognak experiences a tearing sensation from his back. A second roar that is half-satisfaction and half-pain explodes out of his throat even as he explodes deep inside of Azshara. And as he fills her womb with his seed, he feels the presence of new appendages on his back, freshly grown and yet… they feel like they’ve always been a part of him.
 
He knows them for what they are immediately of course, but before he can ruminate on their existence and how he apparently ‘earned’ them by being pushed to the brink by sex of all things, the doors to Queen Azshara’s bedroom are blasted open and Royal Naga Guards come streaming in.
 
“Queen Azsssshara! Off of her, orc! Get away from her!”
 
With a snarl, Rognak reaches out… and Wolfsong leaps to his aid, slapping into his outstretched hand without even the need for a vine this time as the Blessing of Cenarius within the axe answers his overwhelming connection to Life and Nature. Stepping off of Azshara, his cock slips out of her creampied cunt, even as he lifts his axe up, fully prepared to make a last stand here and now if he mus-
 
“CEASE! NO ONE IS TO TOUCH HIM ON PAIN OF DEATH!”
 
Where moments before she had been face down, ass up with his foot on the back of her head, his cock in her quim, and an incredibly pleasured expression on her face… Azshara is on her feet and blazing with incandescent rage and arcane power in an instant. It doesn’t matter that she’s naked save for her jewelry. It doesn’t matter that she’s leaking his cum either. She still somehow manages to look as effortlessly regal, elegant, and above them all as ever.
 
The Royal Guards all rear back with wide eyes, clearly not expecting their Queen to jump to his defense. Heh, they must have thought something happened when Azshara stopped spouting out orders at the top of her lungs. By silencing the Queen of the Naga, her subjects had assumed the worst. Because Azshara never shut up if she could help it.
 
“He. Is. MINE.”
 
“My Queen, I-!”
 
BZZZZZZZZAAAAAAP!
 
For the second time since Rognak has been brought to this room, he’s treated to the sight of one of Azshara’s subjects getting blasted in the chest with arcane lightning. This time however, the strength is tripled and there isn’t even a corpse left to fly back. Just a pile of ash with a little smoke trail coming up off of its peak.
 
“LEAVE.”
 
Needless to say, they all leave. Fast. Rognak watches them go for a moment, but then the doors shut again and Azshara spins back around to face him. A smile begins to spread across her face as her eyes dart over his shoulders at his new appendages.
 
“Oh… that’s just lovely~ Do you wish to see, Archdruid?”
 
With a swirl of her magic she’s able to conjure a mirror for him to see his full new form in. All of the old draconic bits are there of course… but on top of that there are two large wings that have unfurled from his back. Great. He’s gone full dragon. Yippee.
 
A swipe of Azshara’s arm dispels the mirror as she steps through the space it was occupying with a wide, wicked grin that sends a shiver down Rognak’s spine. Somehow… he didn’t really think his new appendages would help all that much.
 
But he wasn’t about to give up. He wasn’t about to surrender. Azshara wanted the savage orc to rail her to kingdom come? Then damn it all… she’d get it.

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