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Hyjal Memories - Pt 3"Sorry to interrupt again," Tuera said, pulling Sheason out of his story. "Do you have any chutney?"
Sheason turned around in his chair and took a look at Tuera working quite excitedly over whatever she was cooking on the stove. And then took another good look at her.
"Tuera, what in the hell are you cooking that you need chutney for?"
"What, you've never had lamb curry before? It's delicious."
"No," Sheason shook his head. "No, I don't believe I've ever had lamb curry before. Although, I have to admit, I am quite curious about something else."
"Are you only wearing an apron?"
Tuera took a look at Sheason from over her shoulder. "Shea, I've been fighting in Hyjal for close to three days straight. There was no way in hell I was going to spend any longer than I absolutely had to in those rank bits of metal and sweat-drenched bits of cloth." She paused for a moment, and then continued. "Is this seriously the first time you've realized I'm naked?"
Sheason sighed, closed his eyes, an
Hyjal Memories - Pt 2Sheason sat silently thinking for a minute. Then, he continued. "Once he'd been purged of demonic corruption, Grom and Thrall left the camp for a final battle with Mannoroth. Thrall was the only one who returned Grom died slaying that beast who'd enslaved their race. Once Mannoroth died, the blood-haze lifted from the orcs of the Warsong clan their skin changed back from red to green."
"Bet that got awkward," Tuera said, getting up. "I'm getting hungry. You want something to eat while you tell your story?"
"Sure. What are you making?"
"Not sure yet," she said, looking in the pantry, pulling out a spice bottle with 'turmeric' written on the side. "Do we have any lamb?"
"I think so. It should be in the meat locker."
Tuera looked up, confused. "You have a meat locker?"
"Yeah, it's next to the pantry. For all the meat I eat, the icebox doesn't have enough room. That's just for small things I need to keep cold, like milk and cheese. Where'd you think I kept all those steaks?"
Hyjal Memories - Pt 1Sheason had started to become rather worried. He hadn't seen Tuera in over a week. There had been times in the past when she did mercenary work for days at a time, but usually she'd be back every other day or so and even those had become less and less frequent since they'd started sleeping together.
He wasn't quite sure what he was worried about, though. Was he worried about that manic look in her eye she had when he last saw her? The last time he saw a look like that in her eyes was when she was running the Crimson Dagger cult. It was certainly true enough that there was a constant worry in the back of his mind that she might relapse into the old Tuera at any time. But that wasn't it.
Was he really worried about the length of time she'd been gone? It was unusual that she'd be gone for such a long time, and being a mercenary was a dangerous line of he stopped himself mid thought. No. That was silly. It couldn't be that he was worried something had happened to her cou
It belongs in a museumIt was a chilly day in Shattrath. Sheason breathed in the crisp air on his way back up to his apartment and smiled. He'd been able to sleep in because Tuera had been gone the whole night "doing work" and after a late breakfast he'd had a very vigorous workout. He'd been gone nearly three hours and he was quite pleased with himself. It was shaping up to be a magnificent day.
And then he reached the door to his apartment.
"Jeeves, what are you doing?" he asked, bending down to the construct's height. The clockwork butler robot bristled, straightening his bow tie and twitching his metal mustachioed face.
"Beg pardon, sir." The robot bowed. "My lady Tuera is inside conducting sensitive research and does not wish to be disturbed. She posted me outside to make sure of this."
Sheason perked up an eyebrow. "She does realize that this is still my apartment, and I'll enter if I damn well please, right?"
"Of course, sir. Believe me, I understand this, and would not dream of attempting to bar your
ShatteredIt had been an interesting few weeks.
Tuera had been living with Sheason in his apartment in Shattrath for a few months. What started off as a temporary arrangement until she got back on her feet and found a new apartment had, over time, settled into routine. She made sure to pay her share of the rent on time, and Sheason never even brought up when she might leave. What he didn't want to admit out loud was that, despite everything that had happened between the two of them in the past he was actually enjoying the company.
Then, late one night, everything changed between the two of them. It was the middle of the night, and Sheason woke up to the sounds of faint noises coming from the kitchen. Years of training kicked in like instinct, and without a sound he made his way down the hall, prepared to ambush whoever had been stupid enough to try and break into his house.
But when he peered around the corner, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was just Tuera, rifling through his icebo
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