<1> Vrok let out a nervous exhale as he straightened up the last few straps of his grunt harness. His orange eyes quickly sized himself up in the mirror, scanning to make sure that the meager leather straps were crossed properly over his chest, and that his studded leather cloth kept him reasonably battle-decent. It was a rite of passage for every matured orc to join the Horde forces for battle, but on his last day in Durotar he felt there was one last loose end he felt he had to tie up first. His heavy boots left small dust clouds in his wake as Vrok trekked across the rocky terrain South of Razor Hill. Soon enough, the settlement's walls had disappeared from sight, and off in the distance a small, albeit well-fortified, hut appeared. The closer he drew, the more he could hear grunts and yells of students in training, and finally the small troop of young students came into view. Most of them were orcs, all of which were perhaps only five or six years of age, save for their commanding instructor. "THRUST! BLOCK! SHARPEN THOSE STANCES, MAGGOTS!" the female orc barked fiercely. Long, jet black hair was kept tied in a ponytail to frame her light green skin, while a set of grunt's armor similar to his own granted her powerfully-toned form some meager modesty. Her muscles flexed as she paced back and forth before the recruits, all of which diligently did their best to follow through with their practiced movements. In sharp contrast to her green skin, a pair of ice blue eyes darted from pupil to pupil, and occasionally her short club would shoot out to straighten a stance or test one's balance. It wasn't until Vrok had neared her students did she catch him out of the corner of one eye, and suddenly it was as if a switch had flipped within the warrior. Her facial features softened and her stance became significantly more casual. "Halt! Lesson's over for today. Go home and practice your momentum control tonight. We reconvene tomorrow." All at once the students pounded their chests respectively. "Yes, Ms. Grawson! We will!" And like a flock of wild tallstriders the young students scattered in all directions, laughing with giddy glee at their freedom. A warm smile crossed the instructor's face as she watched them scatter, and her smile only grew warmer as she addressed the approaching Vrok. "By Thrall's hairy chin, if it isn't my star pupil." She casually twirled her club and propped herself against it to lean to one side. "Not often my students bother to visit, let alone my favorite." Vrok struggled to fight back the dark flush in his cheeks as he bowed his head respectfully. "I promised I would, Ms. Grawson. I'll be joining the guard tomorrow." Her smile grew wider and more toothy with pride. "You have exceeded my expectations, Vrok. You should be as proud of yourself as I am of you!" As quick as a whip, the older female leaned off her prop and lurched forward to throw her powerful arms around him, squeezing him heartily and pounding him thrice on the back before drawing back to arm's length. "How was initiation? Did they send you through the gauntlet?" Vrok chuckled and returned the hug somewhat hesitantly. He had always remembered Ms. Grawson as a kind, albeit strict, instructor from his youth -she was just heading into her twenties when he was merely five, and even then she had nerves of iron in class with infallible kindness after hours- but this sort of treatment after not having exchanged more than a few words with her in over a decade was shocking to him. "It was quite easy, truth be told. And yes, I was treated to three of them. Passed with flying colors." "As I'd expected," she added and looked up at him with a husky chuckle. "My, you've grown! Last I recall, that shaved head of yours barely reached my teat! Now look at you! Taller than I am!" Indeed, Vrok had matured significantly over the course of thirteen years. Powerful muscles covered a great portion of his deep green-skinned body, and the bold warrior had chosen to shave his once-dark locks to give him an agile edge in combat. Standing straight, Vrok was easily over six feet tall, though Ms. Grawson had to be close to the mark herself. "I am fortunate beyond words," he agreed somewhat bashfully. "I owe you much in teaching me the basics, Ms. Grawson." The female orc leaned past him to be certain all of her students had left before cocking an eyebrow in his direction. "Perhaps I did not teach you long enough for you to learn, but you are no longer my pupil in traditional fashion. You can call me Lorkana, or simply Lori if you would like." Her features calmed as she suddenly stepped back and began to walk slowly around her ex-student, sizing him from head to foot at every angle. "After fifteen years of instruction, you're the first to remember their promise to return, Vrok. I'm flattered you thought so well of me that you'd return to say goodbye." Vrok felt an even darker flush flood his cheeks, his own gaze daring to wander over the... surprisingly beautiful female orc. A few jagged scars were more than apparent upon her arms and abdomen, but at that moment he truly realized how... gifted she was. The leather straps across her chest held a pair of incredibly heavy-looking breasts in place, and each step caused her backside to wobble quite seductively to the wandering eye. These were not assets she put on display for the benefit of others, rather they were a mere result of the outdated uniforms that every Orgrimmar grunt was forced to wear... not that Vrok minded. "I'm truly shocked to hear no one else has, Ms... err, Lori." Lorkana smiled at him again as she rounded back before him. "Well... maybe I haven't asked many other students to [i]promise[/i] they'd come back. But I'm thankful that it meant enough to you for you to remember it for so long."