Anything with a blood elf
What events unfold when a stealthed rogue decides she has no interest in playing the objective?
This lasted approximately two weeks as there isn’t a single soul in the Alliance that cares to stop an attack on the Exodar.
It’s okay, though. The Draenei don’t mind.
In an attempt to expedite her magical training, Saoirse heads to Dire Maul to see what secrets the Highborne have to offer…
The mage sighed as she looked over the books she’d borrowed from the Dalaran library.
“A frost mage” she said to herself. “I just had to be a frost mage.”
Saoirse had been trying and failing to summon a water elemental for hours and was making no progress whatsoever. None of the books she had picked out seemed to offer any answers.
“What am I, a shaman?” she cried after some time. “I don’t see fire mages summoning fire elementals! This is just a big waste of time.”
She was about to give up when she spotted on an old, worn and dusty tome labled ‘The True Applications of Frost Magic’. Opening it carefully, she went to the chapter regarding the summoning of elementals. The illustrations here were a great deal different from the other books, with one showing a water elemental and its master engaging in an act she couldn’t quite make out.
Figuring she had nothing left to lose, she copied the methods listed on the page and with an exertion of magical energy that nearly caused her to collapse she finally summoned her watery minion.
It hovered there in front of her exactly as she had envisioned it, with one exception. It had a large, green cock hanging from its base. Blushing, the mage crept towards it slowly, hoping it wasn’t hostile.
To make sure it was in fact hers to control, she ordered it to move to the left. It did. She ordered it to move to the right. It did.
She then realised what the illustrations were and with a jolt of courage she hadn’t thought was in her, she undressed herself and ordered it to fuck her right then and there. It obeyed without hesitation…
He awoke naked and shackled to the floor of a Silvermoon cell, cursing his own stupidity for allowing himself to be captured. His honour demanded that he fall upon his own sword before allowing himself into the hands of the enemy.
He wasn’t alone in his cell either. A lithe, red lipped and black-haired blood elf stood over him, smirking ever so slightly as he struggled against his manacles.
“You’re not a very good spy, are you?” she said.
Not willing to give her the satisfaction, he remained silent.
“Hiding out in the open and carrying a document with the symbol of Darnassus on it? It’s a wonder you made it to Eversong at all.” She tutted. “Well as you must have guessed, I’ve been sent here to question you.”
“You’ll get nothing from me.” was his reply. He cursed himself again, for breaking his silence so quickly.
“Oh, I think I will. They all reveal their secrets in the end.”
I’ve trained in resisting torture, he thought. If this shrew thinks I’ll submit so easily, she’s got another thing coming.
But she didn’t reach for any torture implements, nor did she even ask any more questions. Instead she began to remove her armour, piece by piece, revealing a perfect pair of breasts and a behind that would turn the most devout of priests against their vows. He could feel himself harden and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Perhaps he didn’t want to.
“I like to have some fun with my captives first.” she purred. “However long you last is how long you postpone the agony that is to come.”
As she mounted his cock, all hope of resisting left him. He knew he would never last as much as five minutes. All he could do was try to break free of his cuffs before he climaxed…