“They are here.” Came a voice from his side, the elven warden Cordana Felsong taking a defensive stance. “Good, I grew tired of waiting…” Gul’dan whispered, turning to see the chieftain of the Bloodtotem, Torok, and his most elite braves barreling down upon them.
“You demon filth! You have corrupted our sanctuary!” he cried as he leapt up, spear at the ready to pierce the warlocks twisted heart. With a clang, his attack was defected by Cordana’s massive glaive, sending him flying into the walls behind them.
As the rest charged at him, Gul’dan didn’t even flinch, Cordana making sure none even got so close as to touch him. With grace and speed she slashed through flesh and bone, severed head and shoulder, and before long only one brave remained, his battle roar shaking the very caverns above.
“Make sure this one dies slowly.” Gul’dan commanded with a frail yawn.
Cordana nodded as she leapt into the charging brute head on. He dived forward with incredible might and took the warden off guard, forcing her to arch back and flip from the ground as the braves axe grazed her armor. Now on the exposed side, Cordana threw her glaive with such force and precision that it landed hard into her enemies back.
Gul’dan scowled as the brave slumped over, “You did make sure to avoid his most vital organs?” he questions. Cordana nodded, “Of course, master.”
“Mellok!” came a cry from the sides, Torok trying his best to lift himself back to his feet. “You will pay for killing my son!” he bellowed as he ran towards the now exposed warlock. With a thrust of his spear, he saw victory in his grasp, but the warlock only chuckled as the spear harmlessly broke upon his demonic shield.
With a wave of his hand, Gul’dan ensnared the great chieftain with his magic, forcing him to the ground once more. “So quick to judge, Torok. We didn’t come here to fight.” he said with a sinister scowl, “In fact, I believe we can help each other.”
Torok spit at the warlock, his arms aching from the fel tendrils that burned his skin, “I would never help someone like you!”
Gul’dan smiled, “Not even if I can save your son?”
Torok’s face turned to shock, he looked over at Mellok, still rolling in pain on the floor as blood seeped out of his gaping back wound. Gul’dan moved in closer to the chieftain with his dark grimace, “We don’t have to be enemies, Torok, I know your tribe values strength above everything else, and with the powers of the Legion, none will be able to stop you.”
Torok took no time to consider it, “Save my son, and we have reached an accord. I don’t care how many souls I must sell.” Gul’dan was surprised with the ease the tauren had turned, “Very well. Cordana, please heal our new friend…”
Cordana nodded as she walked up, grabbing Mellok by the horn and dragging him with great strength over to the corrupted pools. She took his head and shoved it into the twisting waters, his limbs squirming as he tried to breath in the foul liquid. “We had a deal!” Torok yelled in fear and frustration as he watched his son start to drown.
“Enough, Cordana.” Gul’dan commanded, the warden hesitating before pulling Mellok back up, his lungs coughing up the green waters. As he struggled for breath, he started to scream, his horns violently contorting, his body growing twisted claws and fangs as sharp as razors. His wound, once fatal, began to heal with intense speed, and it was not long before the tauren stood reborn as a twisted and demonic beast. Torok stood silent as he peered at his only child’s recovery, before kneeling in front of Gul’dan, “My people will be yours… as soon as you pay my son back with some form of atonement.”
Gul’dan’s smile left his face, “Oh, and what would he want?”
I want her dead…” Mellok whispered, trying to catch his breath as his enraged visage stared intently at Cordana. Gul’dan chuckled, “I am afraid death is out of the question, as is maiming or crippling, but there are other ways you can… humiliate her.”
Mellok knew what the warlock insinuated, and smiled, his sharp teeth grinding in anticipation.
Cordana’s head turned sharply as she looked to her master, “What!?” she cried, “You would… hand me off to these beasts for…!?” Gul’dan smiled, “Only temporary, my dear.” Cordana shifted, her green eyes flaring with anger, “I sold my sisters out for you! I handed you all you ever wanted!” she pleaded, ” I gave up everything! You can’t…”
“Lies” Gul’dan scowled as he walked toward his servant, “You wanted them dead. You hated them. It was how I turned you. Do you not remember? That biting anger that consumed your heart over all those long years, forced to serve in the darkness of that prison.”
Cordana stood silent, her breath becoming heavy as the warlock got closer. “I… but these beasts…”
Gul’dan shifted as if in a blink, and was now standing in front of Cordana as she dropped her glaive, “You did everything you wanted, and thus how can I trust your loyalty? No… now you will do something that makes your skin crawl, that makes your heart ache, and your very soul burn.”
Cordana felt a biting sense in her mind, as if the warlock was now speaking from inside her, “Prove your loyalty…”
“Y… yes master… I will do as you command” she whispered weakly as she felt the strong revitalized arms of Mellok take her from behind, ripping off her armor piece by piece. At first she struggled for but a moment, but soon her will returned to her masters commands, “Do what you will, beast. I will prove my loyalty to the cause.”
Gul’dan turned his gaze to the chieftain, who himself looked on with a grim satisfaction, “Now, Torok, let us take this water, and join your tribe. Shall we?”
As they left, Gul’dan heard a scream from behind as Cordana took in the tauren’s massive cock deep and hard, he yelled down back into the caverns one final time, “You get nine hours, enjoy them well.”
“Hurry, Grok!” Lakuu yelled as she burst through the fissure in the ship’s wall, the forces of the Light battling to a standstill with the demonic forces outside. “Right behind you!” he yelled back, imbuing himself with the aspect of the cheetah and closing the distance quickly.
The Xenedar had fallen, and it was imperative they help the quick return of the Prime Naaru, Xe’ra, to the safety of the Vindicaar, as well as any surviving lightforged. As they continued down the halls, a voice could be heard, “Help!” it cried. Lakuu spun around just as the lightforged priestess was upon them.
“Thank Xe’ra, allies have come for us!” She said, hanging off Lakuu while she caught her breath. “Are you injured?” Lakuu asked, helping the priestess to the ground, “No, I am fine. Just in shock. I…” she attempted to continue as she looked up and beyond Lakuu’s shoulder, Grok standing with his arms crossed, “What the hell is that!?”
Lakuu looked back, Grok’s face furrowing into a perturbed scowl, a gentle smirk crossing her face, “He is a friend”
Grok walked forward and put out his hand to the exhausted woman, “I would have prefered dashing and heroic rescuer, but friend works too.” Lakuu laughed gently, “So modest…”
The woman put her hand into Grok’s massive palm as he helped her back to her feet, “You are a male of your species?” she inquired curiously as she stood next to his towering form, Grok nodded, “At least ninety nine-percent sure…” he joked, getting a light giggle from the priestess, “You do seem very nice.” she continued, “My name is Ashanaa”.
Grok peered over at Lakuu, who had once again started scanning the hallways, before he returned his gaze to the priestess. “You can just call me Grok.”
The priestess smiled, “It is rare for one of my kin to take a husband outside our species, you must be very attuned.” she said awkwardly, taking Grok a bit by surprise, “Huh…”
Lakuu’s head took a sharp turn back to the duo, “Wait… we… we are not together.” she said nervously, “As I said, we are friends.” Ashanaa looked startled, “Oh! My apologies, I guess I thought… you both seemed…” she continued before Grok put his big hand on her shoulder, “Don’t worry about it. Easy mistake when you see how she looks at me.” he whispered out, giving his companion a grin. Lakuu returned his gaze with a teasing scowl, “Very funny, but it’s time we find the control chamber. We will meet again, Ashanaa.”
As Grok nodded towards the priestess and was about to leave, Ashanaa looked distressed, “Wait… I can’t feel my leg! I must have sprained it!” she yelled out, collapsing towards the ground. Grok quickly caught her, lifting her up, “Woah, I got you. You must have been running on adrenaline earlier, that can make you forget most injuries pretty quickly.” he said, holding her tight.
Lakuu looked as the priestess nuzzled in closer to her companion’s chest, and narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “We don’t have time for this.” she yelled, a bit exasperated. Grokale nodded his head, “You are right, you go. With me carrying her we would just slow you down. I will make sure she gets to the ship safely, and search for any other survivors.”
Lakuu peered, uneasy, but in the end agreed, “I will meet you back on the Vindicaar.” Grok gave a clear nod of acknowledgement, “Don’t get anyone blown up while i’m gone.” he laughed.
As Lakuu continued down the hall, Grok began to head back towards the fissure. “No!” Ashanaa yelled, “The safest way is this way”. Grok peered down the seeming dead end, but decided to trust his new companion.
As they turned a corner into a large bright room, Grok noticed that it was a temple of some type. He grunted, “Where is this exit? I don’t see anything.” Ashanaa giggled, “You can put me down now.”
Grok narrowed his eyes, before setting her back onto her feet. “What is the meaning of this?” he questioned as the priestess turned around and in one clean movement, unbuttoned her robe, the silky raiment parting to show her supple breasts and curvaceous figure before falling off her shoulders, giving the orc a incredible view. Grok’s eye widened, “Hey, wait…” he continued, trying to back away but finding himself pushed into a wall.
She walked in closer, “Don’t be coy, Grok.” she said, taking her hands and unbuckling his belt, “I know you and my kin have had sex. I could smell you on her when we first met.” she continued, now pulling down his pants, “I don’t care about that, only what it implies”.
Grok lowered his defenses, “You are more forward then I gave you credit earlier” Grok said as he felt her take his cock into her hands.
She looked at it, marveling at it’s thickness as she slowly stroked him, “I have been stuck in the same ship, with the same men, for over ten thousand years.” she said, a yearning building in her voice, “I am so bored here. So tired of the same thing every day, every year.”
Grok could sense the writing on the wall, “So you saw me…”
“Something new…” she said, speaking over him. Grok leaned forward, pulling his armor and tunic up over his head and off, “Well since you are sure on this path, I guess I can help.”
Ashanaa climbed up onto his lap, her body yearning with every touch, “Good, now show me what I have been missing. I hope you don’t disappoint.”
Grok reached around, taking her hips into his hands and lifting her up. As he gently lowered her down onto his erect member, she moaned with delight. Grok smiled in turn, “I never dissapoint.”
“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.”
“Bastard…” Jesana whispered as she endured the demon hunter’s relentless thrusts, his demonic grip sharing a troubled familiarity.
“Silence. Remember, you brought this on yourself.” he sneered at her, making sure each trust went deeper and deeper, “All I wanted was the gold on your head, but after that show, you needed to be shown your place!” He thrust extra hard to punctuate his remark, making her yelp in surprise.
Jesana’s memory was hazy as the pleasure raised with each thrust, yet she recalled the ambush just that morning. She was on assignment in Azuna when they descended upon her. A party, ten strong, came looking to collect on a bounty her former “master” had placed upon her. When she made it clear she wouldn’t come quietly, they attacked without mercy.
When the dirt cleared, nine corpses laid at her feet. “Oh, I remember, you hung back like a coward as I slaughtered your friends.” she grunted with a smile, “What a pity.”
“I said silence!” her assailant yelled as he pushed hard and deep, holding his cock inside her, “It does not matter. You were tricked by my trap runes, and now I shall have all of the reward and more.” he growled. Jesana couldn’t see his eyes, but she could feel his gaze narrowing in on her.
Jesana bit her lip, “So… these bindings? Did my old master give them to you?” she asked coyly, taking the demon hunter by surprise. “Why does it matter?“ he questioned. Jesana closed her eyes, the familiar magic took hold any time she resisted, to make her docile, but they were much weaker than those used by her former captors.
As the demon hunter continued his onslaught, Jesana turned her head and smiled. She had broke from this magic before, on a much stronger level, and with a bit of time, she knew she could do so again. In the end, the demon hunter’s need to make an example of her for his own pleasures, rather than deliver her that night, would be his undoing.
Until then, she might as well enjoy herself.