Tarren Mills is under attack!

I’d like to say first, when I started this story it was pre-WOTLK. So when I asked my friend is there a boat in Menethil Harbor to SWC and he said no. So it’s too late, the boat is gone and replaced to go to Valgarde >_< So… for the sake of my story THERE IS a boat to Stormwind!! T_T Sum bitch Blizzard

---

You can always count on the government leader, right? He or she was elected because they know what they’re doing, what they speak of, and have the experience. They should know how to run a nation, an empire even, yet still be democratic and uncontrolling… The common person would know that their leader was leader for a reason, a good reason. The leader of the Horde was a good leader, some would say. Thrall. Previous slave, now a king among his people is the inspiration for all.

Today, some people’s praise upon Thrall will be shaken and possibly broken for his decisions for the better of his empire.

“Please! I need to speak with Warchief Thrall! It’s urgent!” cried one man, trying to move into the regal building where Thrall did his work. Guards and guards lined the pathway inside, neither would allow him inside. “Please!”

The big Orc guardian grunted and shoved the small man away, “I said no, elf! Our Warchief is already preoccupied! Go away!”

The mage was pushed away and nearly fell to the ground. He looked up at the Orc with angry glowing eyes and gripped his long white staff tightly. “You dare! All I want is two minutes!”

There was a sound of gentle clopping, and then the small Sin’dorei mage felt a large paw on his shoulder. “Save your anger, elf…,” said the Tauren hunter. The Tauren looked at the Orc guardian and saluted him. “I am Ambassador Teratore of Mulgore, guardian. I request audience with Warchief Thrall, please,” he asked quietly and politely.

The elf stepped away, but his glare didn’t cease on the Orc. He more-or-less decided to shield himself behind the hunter.

The Orc stood straight and saluted the Tauren. “Lok‘tar, Ambassador.” He shoved his sword into the dried orange dirt and stood aside, letting the Tauren access to the path up to the wooden doors. Taratore nodded and started walking up the ramp towards the noble building, slowly following was the elf. Both hoping Thrall would see justice to their situation.

---

There wasn’t much to hide behind if you chose to wander around in Arathi Highlands. Just a lot of bushes, but that’s hardly any good hiding spot. It would do though. Raptors and spiders haunted every crevice of every rock and cliff. Lonely humans and orcs would either hinder you or help you, depending on whom you were to them. The chilly air would only make this mission a little more difficult because now he’d have to resist shivering and dampen his shaky breathing if he wanted to get close without being noticed.

Shielded behind a boulder was an appointed assassin, highly ranked among his fellow rogues and feared by anyone who knew his name (which was few, for they usually ended up ‘missing‘). Crouching good and low, he had a perfect view of the Alliance couple and their detainee. A snarl disfigured his hidden face upon sighting the prisoner, slouching and depressed with bonds wrapped around his bloody wrist. Alliance animals… It always made him furious to see this happen to his comrade in blood, another Sin’dorei. But instead of whisper curses to himself, he controlled his breath and concentrated back on the situation. They were moving forward again, so he took the opportunity to move from behind the boulder to hugging the bark of a tall tree with his back.

His mission was to follow these men and find out where they were taking their Blood Elf hostage. Albeit these were wannabe orders from Tarren Mill he received, further instruction was soon to follow. He’d seen it happen, the four raiders in the Mill, and he was also caught in that fucking warlock’s fear effect. If not he would have taken out that annoying human… Anyways, that was then. He was hot on their tale and had a good idea where they were going. And it wasn’t anyplace a Blood Elf would be welcomed, or Horde in general.

---

Donelzane glared ferociously at his captors from behind. Florescent green eyes squinted angrily at the back of the head of the warrior. Dismissingly rubbing his cheek on his shoulder, trying to get rid of the crusty semen he could still taste on his skin. His eyes fell off of the Night Elf and travelled down his long body to the dirt they were walking on. It passed his shoes quickly, since they were obviously in a hurry to get into Alliance territory. He wondered if someone was coming to save him. Or not.

His legs felt weak, his ankles starting to get sore and bruised, and his feet dragged through the gravel. The depression of being caught, chained, and dragged along like a slave was starting to become heavy on his shoulders. He closed his eyes and let the other elf drag him along, shallow prayers all that was mumbled from him.

He nearly tripped when his chain was yanked, and he slipped on some wet mud, nearly falling if it wasn’t for the panther mount at his side. He fell against the Night Elf’s mount and grabbed it’s saddle, steadying himself. But as soon as he touched the cat’s purple fur it whipped it’s head to the side and roared at him, showing off long fangs. He quickly released the feline and frowned slightly.

“Keep moving, idiot,” growled the Night Elf and tugged once more on his chain. Donelzane grunted and yelped slightly as he nearly fell over his feet again, avoiding collision with the panther again. He bared his teeth at the Night Elf and swore under his breath gently. He’d curse these two to the death… Especially that warrior. If he wasn’t being ‘toyed’ with, he’d say that the Draenei was far more favourable than his companion. But, seeing the situation, he’d rather die than be around the duo.

Off in the near distance he heard an electric screech, and looked to where he heard it coming from. He made a little yip at the sight of a large orange raptor stomping their way. The animal waved its head and screeched again, running at him. The panther hissed and it’s fur bristled, but of course the Night Elf sprang forth in front of him and slashed the animal once across its chest. Blood sprayed from the raptor’s body and it fell to the ground roaring and twitching as it crawled around in pain. Seconds later it stopped moving all together. Donelzane’s face turned sad, a frown passed his face and his eyebrows dipped upwards in apology.

The warrior elf whirled his head, flipping his hair around, and growled something malicious at the priest. By his expression he wasn’t too pleased with the Blood Elf… The other elf turned and chatted with the paladin, obviously discussing about him by the hand gestures pointed towards him.

Yet another screech was heard. Another raptor was charging at Donelzane. He heard the warrior snarl and jump at the incoming beast. It too died in a bloody manner, all before the priest’s eyes. Donelzane backed away and tried distancing himself from the two Alliance. He wasn’t suppose to be here. Where were they going? If it’s through Arathi Highlands… And if they passed the crossroad at the center of the county, they were going south. To Wetlands? What’s there…? A shipyard?

The Draenei chuckled and walked forward. The Night Elf hurried behind him, pulling Donelzane and the panther with him. But the priest tugged back on his chain when the warrior dragged him behind. He saw the glistening eyes that bore daggers through him, and the Kal’dorei snarled, forcefully tugging back. The Sin’dorei nearly lost his balance and broke his neck at the harsh haul, falling forward back in step with the two Alliance. He barely whimpered at the distraught, but there was nothing he could do anymore. Just be a slave like this for the rest of his life, maybe.

---

Some time later, after he felt the soles of his boots were meshed and filled with holes, Donelzane saw in the distance an ebbing glow. A warm glow against the lonely dark night sky. A city. He glared darkly when he realized it would only be an Alliance city, or town, whatever. He was now short of breath, and sore, bruised ankles and bleeding skin. He might have felt shame that among his Horde tribesmen, like the Tauren or Trolls, it was the Sin’dorei who couldn’t go for more than a day of continuous walking or some other exercise, except those trained paladins or other. He shrugged it away, and didn’t care to compare himself with the other ugly-looking brutish races.

“Ah!” he hissed, and quickly stumbled to get his foot off of whatever sharp thing he stepped on. A rock, probably, but he couldn’t see in this dark nor would the two Alliance allow him to straggle to see what it was. But, it hurt. He might be bleeding, his new cut open and dirtied by the wet dirt of the swampy Wetlands. He started to limp slightly, because every time his foot touched the ground it called out to him!

When they got to this town it was, obviously, filled to the brim with Humans, and Dwarves. The guards spotted him hiding between the two far taller men, and ran towards him with their swords drawn and shields raised. Donelzane let out a small squeak at the aggressive Humans and stumbled backwards, refusing to go with the two Alliance captors. Quickly, the Night Elf stepped in front of him and stretched his arm to cover the Sin’dorei more. He shouted in Common at the guards, and they came to a stop while wearing a dark scorn on their faces looking at the smaller elf. They exchanged heated words with each other that Donelzane didn’t know, but he guessed the warrior was arguing with the two guards. He looked to his side and saw the Draenei did nothing but observe the interruption before himself.

The guards jerked at one sentence the Kal’dorei said, and they pushed the elf out of the way to get to the shabby-looking priest. The guard heaved his blade up to strike down at the petrified priest. The Draenei pushed the guard away and grabbed his wrist holding the claymore, and glared down at the man with deep seething hatred, however subtle it was, and looked down at the beaten Night Elf. The big Draenei spoke with the guard in his hold in an unusually soft, calm voice. The other guard looked ready to fight the paladin for freedom of its comrade in uniform.

Donelzane backed away from the montage of people, and thought, since they’re all occupied… The panther growled and roared at the two Humans trying to apprehend the animal’s owner, not paying attention to the Blood Elf anymore. So the young elf backed away, trying to get away and hide in the dark, and go back to Hillsbrad. No wait… He’d never return to Hillsbrad every again! But, he stepped on his chain and it jerked, the steel cracking against itself, making a horrible metallic sound. They all looked at him simultaneously. The Night Elf shoved the Human off of himself and grabbed the Sin’dorei by the scruff of his robes (what was left of them anyways), and looked at the others and shouted once more in Common language. Donelzane struggled against the superior elf, and tried kicking and shoving him off.

One of the guards approached him suddenly, but instead of pulling the Sin’dorei away the Night Elf pushed him towards the Human. He caught himself against the Human’s chest, his chains rattling against the plate the guard wore, and Donelzane shivered as the Human’s hands took his arms forcefully. He didn’t look up, he kept his eyes down at his shackled hands laying on the guard’s chest, and waited to see if he was to be decapitated, struck, or released after a quick inspection. Donelzane could feel the heat of the Human’s scrutinizing, glaring stare on him, looking him over. He whimpered sharply as his head snapped back when the Human grabbed one of his ears and turned his head to look at the tall man.

Despite his position he glared darkly at the Human.
----

Arcelare frowned at how harsh the guard was treating his little prize. But the Human wouldn’t have any of the ‘he was stranded and abandoned and we’re taking care of him’ act. He’d been trying to keep himself between the guard and the elf, but these Humans weren’t hired as guards for just any reason, even for him they hit hard and pushed roughly. The only thing he could do was let the guard inspect the Sin’dorei for any threat. Luckily, the Human wasn’t so worried about what damage the little newbie priest could be capable of, but more concerned for what influence the Blood Elf might have. If you know what he meant.

“How do you know there’s no one chasing after this disgusting turn-coat?” spat the Human that was inspecting the priest. “There might be an army at your feet, and they might come after him. If that’s the case here, Night Elf, I won’t have this sickening Horde in the town, for the sake of all its citizens.”

Arcelare frowned. He didn’t know if anyone was following them either. But, he wouldn’t allow this snooping guard to ruin his chance at some GOOD money in weeks. So he smiled kindly and bowed deep, “Why, surely there’s not a soul on Azeroth or beyond that would have a care for this pathetic creature, kind sir…”

“Piss off. That elfish sarcasm maddens me further than those pointy ears,” snarled the Human with a dark look, making his face distort into a menacing glare. He was obviously not one who would house any sort of elf, Blood Elf or Night Elf.

Arcelare’s eye twitched at the remark, and he bared his teeth at the guard from behind his long shiny bangs that hung over his face because he was still bent in a bow. He recovered his small sliver of sanity he still harboured during his years, and straightened to smile down at the Human. “Sir, I didn’t mean any harm… I’m just trying to say, this immaterial scavenging Sin’dorei would impact no one’s life. He’s an orphaned abandoned child we passed upon on a patrol of Hillsbrad Foothills. By any means, I wish to take him to Darnassus and have him taken care of before we send him back to whichever hellhole life he once lived.”

The Human’s glare didn’t cease in any way and still didn’t appear to accept the lie Arcelare tried to feed him. Kasteus was still at the side, but he still had his large fingers lain on the hilt of his mace, just in case there was another physical argument between Arcelare and the Humans. The Draenei had his glowing eyes on the priest and the guard, watching to make sure nothing would come about.

“Hm…,” contemplated the haggard old looking man, and looked down at the elf who was still shivering in his arms. He still had his head pulled back and could now look deep into those jade blazing eyes that were burning deep cavities into the Human’s face. “Revolting Fel-energy users…,” snarled the guard, and twisted the elf around and shoved him violently back with the Draenei and the Night Elf.

Arcelare caught the elf in his arms and wrapped his hands around so they latched onto the Sin’dorei, just in case. He soothed and cooed in the priest’s ear, patting his hair and rubbing his back as if he were a child. He felt the Sin’dorei shudder and coil against Arcelare, as if looking for shelter. The Night Elf chuckled low and embraced the tattered priest.

“Take the elf, and get him out of this place as soon as the sun rises,” shunned the one Human guard and stepped aside to allow a path into the sleeping hamlet. He didn’t look too happy at all. The warrior stepped beside the smaller elf to escort him through the gates, shielding him from the fuming glare coming from the Human’s aged brown eyes.

---

Donelzane didn’t notice it, but he stepped closer to the tall Night Elf when the other pulled his thin arm. He’d never been inside an Alliance city, and knew he shouldn’t. Ever since he was a young toddler, his parents and teachers always, always reminded him that if he’d ever seen the golden lion on a blue tabard that he was to turn and run the other way. If he was to ever see a Human, or a Night Elf, or any other Alliance member, he was to flee. For now that is. Even he himself knew that one day… he would be able to take on two or three of them at once.

That day was so far away… it made Donelzane weary of even thinking how long his journey would be. But the reward would be tremendous.

Yet he was still a coward. It would be that way for the rest of his life, he guessed. Like at Tarren Mills, quivering and sobbing for mercy, it made him hang his head in shame as they walked into the barely lit town.

It was nearly no time at all before they crossed the muddy roads and found their way into a lodge he guessed was the Inn. Shrinking away from the prying eyes of inhabitants, and the hateful glares and spits he got, Donelzane tensed and waited to be shielded from everyone’s eyes. But when he was pulled up the stairs of the warm-lit building which was far more presentable than the Tarren Mills Inn, he soon found that he really didn’t want to be alone with the two Alliance.

Even though the bed was cozy and soft, he found that being pushed harshly backwards onto the springy mattress and having the Night Elf stand over him like he was a small rabbit, didn’t make him feel right…

Sudden flashes of earlier flickered through his mind and he shuddered, feeling the same intense depression starting to fall over his thoughts. Where they going to assault him again? Maybe together this time? Or maybe they’d finally take off his pants and rape him…? He tried digging farther into the comfortable sheets as the other male elf descended on him.

---

Arcelare pushed the priest into the room and grabbed his arms, guiding his body towards the large King-sized bed where he gave him a little shove and the unstable Sin’dorei fell on his back, bouncing on the bed before he looked to try and slither away. Arcelare grabbed the man’s thin ankle and held him there as he began crawling onto the bed.

A sinister grin pulled at his face as he neared the shocked priest. He held the small elf down with a hand to his chest and both his legs keeping him cornered and pinned. He put a finger under the priest’s chin and kissed him lightly on the mouth, snickering at him when he shook his head and refused Arcelare.

“Hey, Kasteus, mind leaving us?” he called behind him at the Draenei. The paladin shrugged and agreed, saying a short comment about how he was going to re-supply their bags. The click of the door closing was all that was heard, and in the silence Arcelare finally had the vulnerable Blood Elf to himself. His white eyes looked at the Sin’dorei’s face, and saw not only fear and anxiety but he noticed that there was still remnants of last night all over his skin and hair.

“Oh, you filthy whore,” scrutinized Arcelare as he put both his gloved hands on either side of the elf’s face, leaning in once more to kiss him without the gentleness of before. He felt the other mumble and squirm under him as he did this, and it only caused him to become more feral. He ripped the remaining shreds of clothing from the priest’s body, leaving him with a few dangling silver liners from the Robes of Arugal hanging off his shoulders. He forced a heavier kiss on the Blood Elf, pulling his chin down so the other’s lips parted and he was allowed to invade his mouth with a tongue.

Arcelare growled and reached down to grab the smaller man’s knees and pulled it up his body to the warrior’s hips, pushing abruptly against his rear. One of his hands twisted in blonde hair and forced the priest’s head to tilt up so he could get more of his tongue inside his mouth. He felt the other fight back, twisting his body and crying out. His screams were only sucked into Arcelare’s mouth though, so no one could hear him. Arcelare made a pleasured groan against the priest’s mouth as he rocked his hard length hidden inside his metallic armor against the backside of the elf.

The one beneath him struggled and fought, trying to push the Night Elf away from his face. And Arcelare suddenly tasted copper blood when his tongue was bitten. He pulled his tongue out of the Blood Elf’s mouth and licked at his lips, smearing a little red on the smaller man’s mouth. Just as quick as he’d pulled away did Arcelare dive in again and ravage the other man’s mouth, being violent enough that when he bit at this skin it turned red all around his lips. Both their saliva drooled down the priest’s chin to his neck where it was smeared by Arcelare’s hands as they mapped their way around his body.

---

Donelzane blushed hard and hot when the Night Elf insisted harder, putting his hands where they didn’t belong and sticking his tongue where he shouldn’t have it. To be true he’d never had any sort of sexual experiences in his young life so far, so when rough fingers weaved his skin and touched him intimately, albeit harsh and rapist-like, he couldn’t help but groan into the other’s mouth.

He cried out a little each time the other rocked against him, probably finding great pleasure in his tiny body frame and imagining the same wicked thoughts that the Night Elf thought back in Hillsbrad Foothills. His hands punched and pushed at the Kal’dorei’s shoulder, bruising his knuckles as he did this, and asserted his means to escape even though he still wore the shackles around his arms. He could only feel impending pain when he realized the Draenei had left them alone in the room.

The warrior suddenly slithered one of his hands up the priest’s thigh towards his groin, and he blushed even harder and shouted protests into the Kal’dorei’s mouth when leather-covered fingers slipped under the remaining of his tattered robes around his waist. He tore his mouth away and sucked in air, gasping heavily, and then cried out. The warrior slapped his palm on Donelzane’s mouth, muffling out his screaming. The other elf glared darkly at him and then the Blood Elf could hear the other man rip off his gauntlet and drop it off the side of the bed.

Donelzane shrieked in surprise when cold fingers tickled at his rear and thighs. Then the warrior’s hand started massaging the muscles near his crotch. Donelzane scurried his hands down and tried to pull his ripped clothing back over his dignity, trying to block out the Night Elf’s prying hands.

Newly found tears stung at his shut eyes as the older elf didn’t cease to violate his body, his sobs inspired by the frustration of not being able to get the warrior off him!

Abruptly the Night Elf took his big hand and wrapped it around both his little wrists, squeezing them until they’d bruise later, and smashed them against the bedstead, making Donelzane cry out and shut his eyes tighter to withhold beads of tears from falling down his face. He wriggled around, trying to desperately free his arms and get the Night Elf out from between his legs. But it was all so futile. The Kal’dorei was a warrior. He was a priest. There’s no way he could overpower him…

He gasped slightly when a part of the chain that attached his shackles were wound around a wooden post and hung up on one of the wooden poles supporting the bed’s frame. Donelzane grit his teeth and resisted from crying out in pain and depression, instead letting hot tears steam down his cheeks, making welts across his face sting. His arms burned each passing moment that he tried pulling on them, so he decided to stay as stiff as possible when he once more felt the warrior’s hands on him.

---

Arcelare smiled warmly down at the other elf when he leaned down to run his finger tips across the soft skin. When he did this, his smile nearly widened, because the tattered priest tensed beneath him and made a quiet noise that he could only distinguish as a whimper of helplessness. Arcelare’s eyes couldn’t help but realize just how cute the Blood Elf looked, all tied up, shredded clothes, bloodied skin, and that same look of repulsive defiance in his scared face.

He growled aggressively at that look, grabbing a hold of blonde hair and twisted it in his grasp, making the elf scream in pain before he bit his teeth together to keep back his anguish. Arcelare leaned down and nearly bit the other’s ear when he snarled hoarsely, “You don’t know how much I want to fuck you, do you?”

But he couldn’t. He ‘wasn’t permitted’ anymore. That bastard Kasteus… if only he hadn’t proposed selling a virgin ass. That’s all that was on both their minds, money. Okay, damn them both. But it was so unbelievable how hard this priest made him, it was painful in both the aspect that he couldn’t relieve himself inside the small elf, nor could he have him for his own. But he’d still have his fun, for damn sure.

And dammit if he didn’t make the Sin’dorei enjoy it with him. What better way to torture someone then make them take pleasure in something they honestly didn’t want?

A sly grin marked the presence of mischief in the Kal’dorei when he flicked a few black threadbare rags off of the remaining of the Blood Elf’s body, leaving him other words naked. It was for the first time did Arcelare come to skim over the build of the priest. He was, like most of his race, slender and androgynous-like. Tell-tale masculinity showed through though, even though he had a girly face, his shoulders were broad and his hips more narrower than a female’s. Some might not be able to tell though if they looked at the Sin‘dorei from behind. The elf bared no scars, yet, and had no deformity or impurity. He was perfectly beautiful. His messy blonde hair, and bloody wrists and face only added to his beauty, though Arcelare.

He started off by gently guiding his hands over the dips of the Sin’dorei’s ribs, rubbing his thumbs over his lightly-muscled pectorals, letting his nails slide against his nipples. He felt the elf below him shudder slightly at the feeling. Then his fingers went down the front of his body, from his neck to his pelvis, and partially down his smooth legs. Arcelare’s grin widened at the response he got. The Blood Elf’s face turned a darker shade of red, and he shut his eyes to look away from him. He was obviously liking this, hm? Perfect.

Arcelare moved himself over the Blood Elf, getting on his knees and hands, watching the elf watch him as he did this. His always-present smirk played itself when he leaned his head down, took the priest’s face gently with both his hands, and kissed him. Not harshly this time, but passionately and tender, a kiss a lover would give to their mate. Often times he’d practise on Kasteus, and soon turned this loving kiss into his seductive weapon. He kissed the side of the priest’s mouth where he’d bitten him, sucking gently at the blood stains there. What’s more is he didn’t feel much resistance if any from the elf. So he continued. Wrapping his lips around the other’s yet not suffocating him, and let his tongue flick out to tease the other.

Beneath his hands he felt the Sin’dorei’s jaw lock, fearing Arcelare would intrude upon his mouth again maybe. Arcelare snickered to himself, and tantalized one of his hands down the elf’s neck, his mouth soon following his gentle touch. He rubbed a thumb over the priest’s neck, and kissed under his jaw. He then began to suck under the other’s ear, and was prized with a quick gasp. The Sin’dorei flinched under him, rubbing his legs against Arcelare, and made a short groan.

Arcelare had found a sweet spot. He stroked his wet tongue over that spot, licking and sucking and biting. The other elf squirmed under him, making small noises Arcelare would categorize as moaning. The priest was good at hiding it for the most part, though. That only meant more game for Arcelare.

He sat up for a few seconds to undo the clasps and buckles of his armor, taking it off and letting them join his gauntlets on the ground. He saw that the Sin’dorei was watching him cautiously as he did this, keeping those burning eyes on him as he shrugged off his linen shirt. Arcelare liked the other watching him undress, if he knew the priest only did it for safety’s sake he would have thought the Blood Elf would enjoy it. That is up until he would molest the priest some more.

Arcelare leaned back down and licked at the Blood Elf’s neck, to his collar bone, and down his chest. He occupied his hands by tenderly massaging the tight muscles on the other’s back, pulling the priest closer to him, letting their bare skin touch each other. Arcelare heard the smaller elf’s breathing become more deep and lax, and felt his body become less tense beneath his rough hands. He could feel how cold the Sin’dorei was, his skin was chilly against Arcelare’s chest. He’d only have to warm him up then.

He enchanted the priest further, sucking at the crook of his shoulder and neck, playing with his smooth blonde hair, and slipping his knee up between the elf’s legs. Often times he’d hear small whimpers and cries, other times the Sin’dorei would full out moan, leaning his head back and allowing himself to be pleasured. Arcelare didn’t smirk nor laugh, instead he’d treat the priest well tonight, even though a few minutes ago he was hell-bent on taking the elf weather he liked it or not. Nope, that wasn’t the ‘diplomatic’ way, he would convince the priest into his arms; to trust him. Until they got to Stormwind City, that is…

---

Donelzane gasped as the Night Elf nuzzled his face against his neck, sucking and licking with his hot mouth. He shut his eyes and groaned against his will. He was swearing and cussing in his mind, hating himself for liking this, hating the warrior for making him like this. It felt nice, real nice, having bliss swim though his veins wherever the warrior touched him. It was almost as pleasurable as having the power of the Sunwell’s heat pulse and swarm him…

He moaned aloud sharply when the Night Elf’s mouth went down further to a dip in his left hip, his tongue tickling another of Donelzane’s sweet spots. He squirmed a little, not noticing he pushed harder against the warrior. His head went so light-weight he feared he’d pass out, so he grabbed the wooden bar his shackles were wrapped around, and braced himself for more of this Alliance’s ‘torture’. He couldn’t help moaning once more when the warrior teased that spot above his hip, and bit his lip to stop making these embarrassing sounds, squeezing the wood post harder in his fingers.

The bed creaked slightly, and Donelzane felt the mattress shift as the warrior on top of him moved to lean off the bed. He heard the rustling of cloth and assumed it was one of the warrior’s bags. He didn’t open his eyes to look though, he didn’t want to know if it was some crazed toy or something. The Night Elf resumed his position of towering over him soon after though. There was a small pop that sounded like a cork coming off of a bottle. Donelzane’s eyebrows creased together in wonderment.

Abruptly, the Night Elf’s thumb rubbed down his cheek to his jaw, but it wasn’t a normal touch, his skin was slick with a liquid that tingled Donelzane’s skin. It was so warm, and taunting, that he couldn’t help lean his head slightly towards the warrior’s hand. He heard the bigger elf make a short chuckle at him, nestling his vermillion hand to cup Donelzane’s face. Another hand came to his face, the same tingly fingers stroking his face. Two of the warrior’s large fingers found themselves tracing Donelzane’s lips, the warmth from them almost made him groan. He leaned his head sideways and tenuously touched his tongue to a finger, and he was granted rapture as it spread though his mouth. He moaned at that, and unconsciously started licking at the skin.

He swathed his mouth around the warrior’s finger and sucked at it, moaning again. It was so distinguishable a taste that he’d recognize it any place. The Kal’dorei must have had a mana potion in his bag, but this essence of the mana potion was far stronger than the ones Donelzane would carry with him. It was so concentrated with power and rhapsody that Donelzane didn’t want to let the taste go. Another finger snaked itself into his mouth, and he generously licked at it also, letting the potion drip onto his tongue and into his body. He could feel his heart race at the addictive extract, involuntarily rubbing himself against the warrior, pulling him closer into his body with his legs around his hips.

He whined wantonly as those fingers left his mouth, his lips following after them until he couldn’t go any farther. He opened his eyes to squint up at the Night Elf, looking away in shame at what he’d done. He looked to the side and saw the swirling vigour of the blue potion sitting on the stand beside the bed. His eyes were fixated on it, so much he didn’t see the warrior’s hands going farther down his body. A teasing finger sketched down his stomach that alerted Donelzane. He hissed at the ecstasy following the Night Elf’s touch, and groaned in his chest, once again squeezing the wooden post.

Donelzane squeezed his eyes shut once he felt those hands on his thighs, again they provoked him to shudder as they went up his legs towards his more sacred parts of his body. He made a helplessly mortified look when he was touched, whimpering at the warming orgasmic feel he got from the brew of magic the warrior had on his hands. What a dirty trick, he thought…

But he couldn’t help it, he was lost in the pleasure of it all. Stars danced across his eyes when he was touched just right, he would moan and sob at every trace of those fingers.

Unexpectedly he strained out a cry when one of the Night Elf’s fingers slipped inside him, smoothly but not gentle, lubricated by the potion. He pushed off the bed at the sensation, it was pure pleasure he felt, and he knew it was all because of that drug of a potion! He moaned loudly, pushing down on the finger, wanting more of it. His heart raced, and he felt so hot it was unbelievable, warmth and rapture spreading from the warrior’s finger to his groin and brain, making him numb. Not too soon after, he felt another slither inside him also, the same ecstasy spreading though him. He jumped when those fingers in him curved and twisted around, making the weirdest spectacle of pleasure Donelzane had known so far. He buried his face in his arm to keep his voice down as he came near to screaming in delight. He drove his body down on the fingers impaling him, over and over, moving with no consent from his better judgement.

He soon found his voice escalading and his moaning more drawn out and loud, tingling went up and down his legs and into his stomach, and he was about to reach wit’s end in what he guessed would be his orgasm.

He cracked open his eyes to stare between his legs at the muscled arm that went up to the Night Elf’s torso. Donelzane was so lost in his pool of excitement he didn’t realize he was thinking he wanted to touch the Kal’dorei until he had already thought it. He gasped and moaned again, and looked at the warrior’s face. He saw that ridiculous smirk on the other’s face, his eyes sharp and intense as he watched Donelzane bounce on his large fingers. Donelzane leaned his head back and yelped brusquely when the warrior leaned his fingers in and touched some place in him that it wanted him to melt away, noticing how he felt electric pleasure when the muscles around the Night Elf‘s fingers tightened.

He looked though his liquid haze and saw that he was hard, his length springing as he unwillingly was tranced by the Kal’dorei’s cheap trick, rocking his hips to a the rhythm of his panting. And then he felt an immense heat wash over him, pressure building in him as the Night Elf twirled his fingers in him, pumping in and out to the pace of his movements. Donelzane whimpered, cried and sobbed until he finally couldn’t take any more of this torture. He tore his face from his arm and screamed at the ceiling, his whole world started buzzing until he couldn’t see or hear anything but the throbbing of his orgasm and the powerful flowing of his muscles around the thrusting fingers in him.

---

And outside the Inn, sitting between two shrubs and leaning on the brick wall, was the rogue who followed them into the Wetlands. The Blood Elf rogue was about ready to tear his ears off his bloody head! What mad torture could they be doing to the priest that would make his scream like that…? Maybe they were ripping off his nails with a knife? Or perhaps twisting his bones until they splintered? Possibly whipping him until his innards showed? The Alliance disgusted him sometimes, and he was an expert at torture…

So all he could do is sit outside with the dogs and crickets and listen to this poor, poor man be tormented as such. He was crazy if he’d stand here! His brother in blood was in trouble! No… Nope he can’t go, would if he’s caught? He hadn’t scouted around to see if there were any valuable warriors that could make mincemeat out of him. Maybe he should wait for the reinforcements from Undercity? Those creaking Undead, they probably walk real slow, even their warhorses would run slow, he thought. What kind of warrior do you get from a skeleton held together by rotting cartilage and muscles?

The rogue, more formally known as Artris the half-baked, promiscuous, lying, backstabbing rogue, turned on his shoes and crept like a cat around the corner. He would at least try to see if his comrade was alive or not. He moved like a feather, with no sound at all on the gravel, towards the other side of the building towards the screaming he heard. He looked to his left and right, seeing no one, not even a rat.

Artris looked up the side of the building to the second floor, which is where he heard the blaring coming from. There was no light on, if so it would be a candle, but he knew that’s where the captive priest would be. So with the agility of an acrobat, he jumped on the wall upwards and grabbed a hold of the wooden eaves, flipped backwards to jump on top of it, and all without a noise. He tip-toed towards the window that was rippled and stained with age, but kept to the hugging the wall. Watching his footings, he grabbed the wooden frame of the window and lifted himself so he could peek his head upwards a little just so he could get an eye in. And what he saw was almost enough to make him gasp aloud.

On the bed, laying limp and dumb, was the same Sin’dorei he’d seen being kidnapped from Tarren Mills. He was tied up by the wrists, and naked? Not an arms length from the priest sat one of the Alliance cowards, leaning on an arm leisurely and looked to be dressing himself…

Artris ducked back down and looked into the forest, mortified. What the hell…? It’s like… it’s like a… Oh, Sun. He quickly bonked himself on the head and told himself not to make any conclusions as of yet. Gritting his teeth in anger, he crawled to the edge of the eavesdrop and jumped off, landing with only a shuffle of dirt and quickly went back to sitting at the wall.

He had to save him now. At his sides his hands balled in rage, shaking uncontrollably at what he’d seen. Was that rape? Did he just witness the aftermath of some horrible, horrible transgression? He swore to himself, caught between doing what he thought the heroic thing to do, and the proper thing to do. He never had the best judgement, anyways… for an assassin…

So he made his way up onto the eaves again. This time he took out his daggers, both glowing ominously with enchantments. He unclipped them from his belt gently, and twirled them on his fingers shiningly before he took one and ever slightly swung it so the tip of the blade knocked the minute metal lock off it’s hook and left the window swinging open. Artris backed away a few feet, and waited for the Night Elf to wander over.

He set his jaw and thinned his lips in anticipation, his grip on his weapons coming near to hurting his palms. Artris’ intense eyes glared at the empty space of the window mount. And not a few moments after he opened the window did he hear the padding of footsteps approach the sill.


-0-0-0-

End of Chapter Two.

*Insert dramatic orchestra* In a world where love and tribulations collide. When your life is no longer your own. When it is controlled by the incisive humping of elves… Will Thrall permit an onslaught against the Alliance for one Blood Elf? Will Don fall for his captor? Will Arcelare die in our next chapter? Will anyone miss him if he does?!

P.S. Now you know what we elves do with our mana potions. /cackle
P.P.S. R&R?