“Lady Jaina” came a voice from the doorway, a magi draped in much finery entering her abode. She had a headache, trying to calm her nerves in a good book before fatigue took over, “Yes, Vargoth?” she smiled, looking up to the old magi as he bowed her direction.
“Just wanted to make sure you are doing well. The Kirin Tor can be a difficult group to lead, and so far you have done so splendidly.”
Jaina once again smiled warmly, Vargoth noting how worn her face was becoming. Her once golden blond hair now mostly white, her eyes a brighter, almost unnatural blue, and her skin a shade paler. “So I have learned, but it’s okay, I am doing better. You all have been so kind since… since…” her eyes trailed off as the memories filled her, of the attack, of the bomb, her eyes began to tear.
“Lady Jaina!” Vargoth yelled, forcing her to look back to him, “No need to dwell on the past, it will only give you nightmares. We will be here for you in the morning.”
The mage bowed once again as he snapped his fingers, vanishing from the room in a small buff of light. Jaina shook her head, the old mage was always so eccentric since he returned from Outland. She recalled that he too, once lead a city, and he too, had lost it. If he could get over such horrors, then so could she.
She put down her book, laying it on the table as she undressed her still torn robes. She looked long at them, the stitching still ripped in many places. “I really should get you fixed someday” she spoke to herself. She quickly laid the robes on a chair as she jumped into her bed, the fabric and design much more extravagant and comfortable then her old tower bed. It was only seconds after her head hit her pillow that her eyes closed and she fell into a deep, deep sleep, and then came the dreams.
Jaina found herself standing in the streets of Dalaran, her robe once again pristine. She looked at her hands, her skin a healthy shade and her hair still golden. She felt happiness overtake her as she heard a voice call out at the other end of the city, “Jaina!” it cried. She looked up to see Kalic, his handsome face smiling brightly her direction as he jogged towards her. Kalic!” she cried back, running to intercept him, her soft hands outstretched and yearning for his caress.
As they got close Jaina could almost feel his warmth, his breath on her skin. She smiled as her arms were about to connect to his, but then the unthinkable happened. “Jaina! Run!” Kalic yelled, pushing her away. A bright light, purple hues and booming like twisted thunder, consumed Kalic and the city around him. The jeweled streets ripped away with people and homes breaking apart in a magical torrent. Jaina screamed as the whole city evaporated, her clothes being disintegrated right off her body and her hair once again turning white, leaving her naked in nothing but darkness.
She laid there, holding in her rage and sadness as she felt the tingle of the magical bomb burn across her skin. “Welcome home, human.” came another voice, this one familiar for all the wrong reasons. Jaina looked up, her eyes wide as the tyrant known as Garrosh stood on the hill above her, the ruins of Theramore still burning and the smoke filling her lungs. “You! Leave this place now!” she yelled out, rising to her feet and pulling back her arms to unleash her magical fury on her enemy.
“How cute, the witch thinks she still has power here. This land, and everyone on it, belongs to me!” Garrosh taunted, slashing his axe deep into the earth, causing the whole land to shake. Jaina hesitated, her hands not feeling the familiar warm power from her magic. She began to speak an incantation, but still nothing occurred, “My magic… What is happening!?”
Another flash occurred, and now the two were not alone. Orcs surrounded her on all sides, black and gold armor denoting the Kor’kron, but bright red eyes glowing from behind their helmets. “How does it feel to fail everyone that trusted you?” Garrosh taunted as his men walked towards her, “How does it feel to be betrayed by those you trusted?” he continued, every word stinging her like a dagger through the heart. Garrosh leaned over, his yellow eyes peering at her, “Now, little witch, you learn too late the price you pay for such misguided trust! Claim her, soldiers of the Horde! Cum in her, on her, do whatever you want! We now rule this land, and we will break anyone that opposes us!”
He stomped his foot, the shockwaves knocking her over like another explosion as he dissipated into thin air. She tried to stand but already the orcs grabbed her, she found herself unable to overpower their unnatural strength without her magic. “This… this isn’t real! I have to wake up! Let go of me!”
Jaina gasped as the first orc pinned down her legs, his cock already hard and erect. “I wanted peace between us! I helped you versus my own father! Why are you doing this to me!?” she yelled as the orc lined up between her legs, rubbing his cock on her clitoris. She tried to move her legs, but another orc came up, helping him hold her spread. The orc looked down, smiling at her, “As you have, now let us show you how much we appreciate it!”
With a strong motion the orc trust his hips, spreading her lips and pounding deep into her womb. She felt the pain sting her spine as she screamed, his thrusts strong but careless, “You are going to tear me apart!” she snarled between clenched teeth, but the orc no longer cared to respond. Others began to gather around her, each licking their lips as they awaited a chance to taste her. “Wake up…” she whispered, knowing it was a dream, and yet the sensations felt so hauntingly real. The lines began to fade.
The orc increased his motion, his breathing growing heavy and before long he roared, thrusting his pulsing cock deep as she felt his hot cum fill her hole. She tried to breathe again as the orc pulled out of her, his cum dripping from her ravaged heat. She felt her leg quickly taken by another orc, his own cock bigger then the last. “Wait… stop!” she begged, but the orc didn’t care, pushing his cock inside her still flooded pussy. “Uggg!” she grunted, trying to push him away. She looked behind him, more orcs having materialized as if out of nothing, all naked and ready to ravage her as much as they ravaged her kingdom. “Wake up!” she yelled one last time, hoping that this would be one dream her mind could forget.
Back at Dalaran, Jaina’s body lay peacefully in her bed, no evidence showing of the ordeal she was undergoing.