“This is madness.” He yelled, “Once they are done sacking that hell-hole, we will be next!” he spoke through gritted teeth, throwing the report down to the floor. As it hit the ground, a sudden flash overwhelmed Lor’Themar. He blinked, trying to refocus his vision into the dark room ahead of him. As the haze began to lift, a familiar woman now stood before him.
“Proudmoore…” he snarled, taking his sword by the hilt, “If you have come to spirit me away to some prison, I won’t go without a fight.”
Jaina clenched her fist around her staff, “No, I came here for a favor.”
Lor’Themar loosened his hilt, shock turning to curiosity, “A favor?”
Jaina leaned onto the table, making sure to put her staff far enough away to put the elf at ease. “As you likely know, Anduin has begun the siege of the Undercity. I knew you would prepare reinforcements. I want you to stop. Stay here in Quel’Thalas, and let that stinking wretch fall.”
Lor’Themar laughed, “Are you serious?”. Jaina shook her head, “I wouldn’t be here, putting myself at risk, if I wasn’t.”
“You ask me to commit treason.” Lor’Themar scolded, shifting his weight back to his chair, “Coming from you of all people, the one that imprisoned the Sunreavers for giving aid to the Horde. How hypocritical…”
Jaina sighed, “I promise that if you do this for me, the Alliance will not invade Silvermoon. We will leave you alone.”
Lor’Themar rubbed his chin before narrowing his eyes on the arch-mage, “A promise is meaningless. Leave this place, or try to attack me, I have too much work to do for these distractions.” Lor’Themar replied with a bitter annoyance.
Jaina grew frustrated, but as she began to lift her staff and prepare to flee, another idea crossed her mind. Though it pained her to consider it, she decided to attempt one more gambit.
“Tell me, Lor’Themar, how do you feel living in the shadow of Prince Kael’thas?” the arch-mage said boldly, the elf once again looking up from his maps with great annoyance, “How dare you…”
Lor’Themar once again reached for his blade, but Jaina continued, “What if I offer something Kael’thas always desired, something he ached for daily, but that was denied to him? You would have a taste of something that even your fallen prince never had.”
Lor’Themar raised a brow, “Go on.”
Jaina hesitated, “I speak, of course, of myself.”
Lor’Themar once again narrowed his gaze. He had heard rumors of the former quel’dorei prince and his utter infatuation with the human mage, back when she was but an apprentice. “Are you offering…” he began to ask, before hesitating himself. Jaina nodded, “Just… this once.”
Lor’Themar thought it over, a smile crossing his face, “How interesting. So my people get left off the kill list, and I get a night with Kael’s former crush? I might be willing to hit a few… unforseen snags in my preparation.”
Jaina winced, “How long will this give me?” she said sheepishly. Lor’Themar laughed, “For as long as you can keep me entertained this night.”
Jaina had a great urge to back out of the deal, but she knew it was the only way to assure the High King’s victory. “So be it.”
Lor’Themar nodded, before moving to the other side of the table and coming up close to the arch-mage. With a quick grab, he took her staff and threw it to the ground, before grabbing her by the hips and throwing her upon his command table. She looked away from him as he began to unbuckle her corset, “Take as long as you want, but please, don’t tell anyone…”
With another laugh, the elven ranger thought to himself, “Oh, Aethas is going to get a real kick out of this…”
“What the fuck is this!?” Jamille yelled as she looked over the broken and dented dagger that the bandit handed to her, “This is just some grey trash!”. The bandit’s face turned to desperation, “No! No! The mark said it has great value! It was in his family for…” was all he could say before a fist rocked him in the jaw, sending him tumbling into the sand dunes below.
Jamille shook her hand to lessen the pain as she watched him tumble into the distance, “Bring me some good loot, or I am feeding your rations to the hyenas!” she yelled, taking the dagger and throwing it onto the scrap pile, “This is your last…” she continued before something pulled her attention.
An elven woman, but with tan skin and primal markings, was walking through the main encampment, her spear held loose but ready in case of conflict. Her golden eyes glistened in the sunlight as Jamille found her heart beat at a quicker pace. “You there! Come here!“ she commanded, the elf raising her brow in curiosity at the sudden request.
As the elf came closer, Jamille could better read her contours, the strangers wide hips and strong shoulders making her ache with desire. “Who are you and what can I do for you?” she questioned, leaning against the nearby table with her legs spread casually, hoping to show her intentions.
“Anu’aka” was all she said.
Jamille stood back up, walking closer to the elf to try and get a better read, but the elf gripped her spear tighter. “Oh I see you have heard of me…” Jamille laughed as she backed away again, “Do not worry, you were invited in here, you have nothing to fear from me. I only collect slaves outside the camp, better for business.” Anu’aka lessened her grip. She peered around the makeshift tent, it’s shelves and tables covered in loose trinkets and other spoils. “I only want rest and shelter from da heat” she said with a thick trollish accent that just made Jamille squirm. Jamille always liked unique men and women.
“Oh I think that can be arranged. How about we talk it over inside my abode?” Jamille propositioned, but Anu’aka shifted, “No, da shade itself will do ma’fine right now”
Jamille began to feel frustrated, “How about a trinket or two? Anything you want from this tent, you can have…” She realized subtlety was not going to work any longer, “Just spend the night with me, and any of these artifacts can be yours.”
Anu’aka smiled, “No. I have no need for any of dat.”
Jamille frowned, “Then what would you want?”
Anu’aka smiled again, “Ya did say I could have anyt’ing in dis tent, correct?” she said as she pushed her spear into the sand, “Let me start wid dat…” she said, pointing to the stone faced figure standing resolute in the back of the tent.
Jamille looked in surprise as she peered at her guardian and most prized slave, Balazu the Broken. “I am afraid he isn’t for sale.“
Anu’aka shook her head, “Oh no, I don’t plan ta own him, just.. borrow him. If ya wish for a night with me, mon… I must be in heat.” she said, taking her finger and rubbing it up Jamille’s body from her stomach to her chin, Jamille’s body melting as her breathing accelerated. Anu’aka moved her lips close to the bandit queen’s waiting mouth before stopping, “Unless ya have a good cock yourself? Eh?”
Jamille shook her head back to composure and laughed as Anu’aka slowly backed away, “You have a deal, but you would be fucking insane if you don’t think I am going to watch this.” Anu’aka peered once again over at the troll standing in the shadows, his eyes showing uncertainty to this situation, but she nodded her agreement to her new friend.
“Balazu!” Jamille cried out. “Ya, mistress?“ he answered without hesitation.
“Fuck her brains out.”