An Engineer's Oath

Nope, nothing to say. Well, except a reccomendation for mood music: "Persis" by James L. Hosay. I played it during my only trip to All-State band compitition, and it's nice for anyone who likes that stuff. And maybe for a few who don't. Maybe.

Noname: As far as leveling goes, I have most of the main characters in both the stories around 30-35... but I also try to portray the action an a realistic light. They're not uber-powerful or anything, they just get some hard hits in the right places. Regardless, I'm glad you like what you see, and I'll try to keep this fic well-composed.

Viva_Rose: You're not the only one wondering... well, you may be now, but for a bit, it was just something I threw in. But now, it's not just a random bit of words... it has morphed into a plot device! *dun-dun-duuuuuuun!*

Yusari: Nah, the face is fine... I can get sexual healing for it later. >=D I'll try to get chapters done quick, but I promise nothing... I have to split time between work, sleep, and fun. And (hopefully soon, because we need to get it back anyways) my GF's busted car. But, rest assured, I will try not to take months to update.

Ymir: Well, if it's different I might get more hits... maybe. I'll try to crank out what I can!

The_PD: I might have a few ideas. ^_-

Anon: Ask and thou shalt receive.

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The bleak, dark expanse of blighted land shook as the large stone walls of the mansion fell without any warning, the crash echoing over the ruins of the Elven town. From the rubble, a single black chain rose, forcing a section of masonry aside with unnatural force, then shattered suddenly, dissipating into the air.
A line of wracking, heavy coughs echoed up from the debris, and a lone, youthful Human rose unsteadily. His night-black hair hung down almost to his waist, complimenting the plethora of dark cobwebs that encircled his upper body. They followed the contours of his skeleton, etching a gruesome sight into his chest by highlighting his spine and ribs, then branching off chaotically. A pair of battered brown linen pants adorned his legs, splattered in fresh blood from the cuff near the waist to his bare feet.
His clear blue eyes looked around dazedly, his hands running across the messy beard on his face and his sharp, angular features, then looked down at his body, stained all over with innumerable layers of filth. He knelt down to a body nearby, pulling the dagger free of the sheath and examining it. The boy rose slowly, his legs shaking as if they had not been used in a long time.
Looking at the few uncovered corpses, he showed no other emotion than a mixture of surprise and fear, and took a few unsteady steps to what he hoped was the south. He remembered a road in this direction, one that would take him away from this dreadful nightmare land. His feet shuffled slowly onward, trying to carry his exhausted body on their own.

Eleam woke easily, the scent of spices and egg reaching her nostrils. The Warrior saw a fire outside the cave and no sign of Rafe inside, and got up- well, she only got most of the way up, before remembering to put her pants back on. Blushing at the thought, she scooted back down into the bag to grab the hem of the leggings, only to be hit with the remnants of her own musk when she ducked down.
Maybe I shouldn't have joked around with him so much, the Gnome thought as her blush increased. Her hand rubbed her groin whistfully, the cloth covering her cunt still damp from her juice and sweat. But it was a good dream, another part of her brain countered as her hand slipped under the upper hem of her underwear and stroked her moistened lips.
That's not the point! her rational side fumed. I'm not even supposed to think like that after... well, after what happened!
Oh, pshaw. You've never had a good lay, her coy side argued bluntly, and you don't want to admit that you want one.

The Warrior laid back down in the bag and spread her legs slightly, enough to poke a finger through the soft flesh of her womanhood. She shuddered as the probing finger slid inside her, the pleasure quickly shutting down her own will to fight it.
Okay, fine, her rational brain resigned, I haven't had the best luck when it comes to sex.
Only because you've never tried, silly! the other instinct giggled.
Eleam pulled the finger out and moved it up with a small grin, stroking her clit with her slick digit. Her hips jumped at the sensation, but she didn't relent, setting a brisk pace on herself.

Rafe sighed happily, pulling the Curiously Tasty Omelette from the pan and setting it on the second plate. What little sleep he had earned last night was heavy and undisturbed, and strangely refreshing for an unknown reason.
Maybe I just needed some company, he thought as he set the pan on a stone to cool. Resting a fork on the glass, the Goblin stood and walked toward the cave.
"Hey Eleam," he called out into the half-light, "I got'cha something to munch on."
Unable to see details yet, the Warrior's shadowed features shot into a sit. He thought he smelled something underneath the powerful spices of the omelette, but brushed it off as nothing.

"Huhwhat?" the Gnome blurted, favoring her left hand. "Oh, ah, well, er..." she trailed off, looking at the plate with a furious streak of red across her face. "Heh... um, thanks," she said shyly, discreetly pulling her hand from her loins and switching the plate to her right hand.
"I hope you got enough sleep, girl," the Engineer said playfully, "because that Phlogiston Boiler's going in toady."
"Ohm, haat's huss hukin' oonerhul," she replied through a mouthful of eggs.
Rafe smiled at her, shaking his head lightly. "I take it they're satisfactory, at least?" he asked.
The Warrior swallowed and nodded gingerly. "Good stuff, Rafe. But just one question. What's in this thing?"
The humanoid glanced around. "Trust me," he said, "you don't wanna know."

There was no way he could go south, he realized. The only thing there was the Light's Hope Chapel, and he already knew going near that place would be disastrous. So, he was forced to go south-west, using the ever-present shadow of Naxxramas as a guide. Luckily enough, however, he happened across a fresh corpse, and though it was devoid of any coin or expensive equipment, the Human did take the dead man's mostly intact shirt, patching it with spare cloth from the man's pants. It was crude and spent the last spool of thread his posthumous benefactor had, but it was enough to cover the ugly lines on his flesh.
The Thondoril River had been stained with the Plague just like anything else, but the dark magic infused in the water didn't faze the boy in the least as he immersed himself to swim across. Deftly, he reached back and worked the water into the tangled, messy mat of his hair, trying desperately to rinse at least some of the filth from him.
He emerged silently, sneaking to the relative shade of a dead tree, and pulled the dagger from its makeshift sheath. The Human whipped his head to the side, grasping the long mane of hair in his left hand, and giving it a single cut with the blade in his right. The Rogue dropped the large lock of hair to the ground, leaving a mat that fell down past his shoulders.
Without the excess hair, the boy looked far less imposing, but he was glad to have something close to his standard countenance back. Steeling himself for the next portion of his journey, he began to walk again, gripping the dagger loosely in his hand, giving a fearful glance at Scholomance as he passed.

"Ready?" Rafe asked, looking across the heavy piece of machinery.
Eleam nodded, squatting like the Goblin was, both hands under the boiler.
"One, two, three!" the Engineer called out, and the both lifted it with no lack of difficulty.
"Careful, careful," Rafe said, steering the heavy item into the chest cavity. "Easy, there. Bring it this way a smidge," he said with a beckoning head jerk.
The Blacksmith complied, easing her edge over with shuffling steps. "Almost?" she asked.
"Yeah, just a bit more," came the puffed reply.

There was a light "donk" as the bottom strut clipped the frame, but a quick adjustment set the engine straight, and the two gently set the encumbering boiler inside. "Allright," Rafe said, wiping his hands on his pants, "if you wouldn't mind smoothing that dent out, I'll get the bolts for this thing."
Eleam nodded and grabbed the Blacksmith's Hammer from the table, and set to gently tapping the metal back into place. The Goblin was shuffling around behind her, and she heard the sound of a spanner being dropped on the stone.
"Aw, shit," Rafe muttered as the Gnome finished her work. She leaned inside a bit, lifting herself up on one foot to get a tricky portion, and lowered herself down onto the fallen spanner, which promptly slid out from under her, throwing her balance.
With a high-pitched squeak, the Warrior toppled over, landing halfway on the kneeling Goblin, who also crashed to the stone.

The two small humanoids landed in such a way that Eleam was glad no one was around, or had a camera; one of her bare feet was brushing the Goblin's groin, even as his hand was planted on her rear and his own face at the junction of her legs.
It took a moment for them to realize just how they were situated, and to notice the embarrassment of the other, then quickly scramble around to make it appear that nothing had happened. Rafe cleared his throat loudly, trying to shake the blush from his face before speaking.
"So, yeah... I, um, got the bolts. Could'ja hand me my spanner, please?" he asked an nonchalantly as he could.
"Sure, no problem," the Gnome replied, hiding her own furious redness at having the greenskin so close to her. She was almost sure he had smelled her, because she had felt his member begin to rise just before they got up. But, that could have just been situational.
"Thanks," the Engineer said, taking the tool briskly and setting to work inside the steel chassis.

"Anything I can help with?" the woman asked, not noticing the slight sultry undertone her words carried until she had spoken them.
"Uh... not at the moment, I don't think," he said, his voice echoing slightly from within the steel shell.
"You suuuuure?" she reiterated, leaning closer to the Goblin for added effect.
Rafe stopped for a moment, thinking. "Well, there's not enough room for two in the chassis," he mumbled, "but maybe... hmm." The humanoid fastened a few bolts down while he was thinking, muttering inaudibly to himself before speaking directly to the Gnome again.
"Actually, I'd really appreciate it if you would fasten the outer plates down for me," he told her, poking his head from the construct's body briefly.
"No problem, Rafe," she responded cheerfully, moving over to the table with a slight sway in her step, just enough to make sure the Goblin noticed.

The Goblin gave a half-sigh, half-growl as he spun his head back into the machine's inner workings, trying to ignore anything but his work. Does she hafta walk like that now? he thought irately as he threaded a pair of bolts. It's bad enough that she gets me going, but now it's like she's doing it on purpose!
Rafe stopped dead. Wait, did I just admit that? his brain stammered. I mean, she's she's charming, to be sure, and not that bad on the eyes, but... come ON, I've only know her for a couple'a days!
"You okay down there?" the Warrior asked, making him start a little.
Rafe tightened his right hand to keep the spanner from falling and shook his head, feeling his pants become slightly uncomfortable again. Well, fuck me running. I guess do have a thing for her, he sighed inwardly.
"Yeah, I'm cool," he replied easily, tightening one of the bolts down.

Glancing to the west, the Human saw the sun sinking below the horizon as he pulled himself from the tainted water of Lake Darrowmere's sole tributary. He had done his best to skirt the ruins of Andorhal, but had not managed to escape some of the straggling undead in the area.
However, he was still surprised at the reaction they had to him. Instead of chasing him down, they had simply ignored the young Rogue as he snuck by, even though he could have sworn there were various occasions they had looked directly at him.
Perhaps it was a lingering effect from his own wounds, but the rotting creatures would not pursue him unless he lashed out. This evidenced itself when a ghoul quite literally shambled over to him ad stared for what seemed like an eternity. The Human simply took a deep breath and continued to walk, ready to break and run at the slightest hint of danger, but all her ever felt was the unnaturally watchful eyes of the Scourge's minions upon him.
Now, as he willed his tired form to continue, he felt a palpable tug of some unknown force calling him to the east. Vaguely, he remembered this route from years past, the memories hazy and scattered, but one landmark stayed in his mind: the tomb of Uther the Lightbringer. A nameless dread fell over the boy as he turned his gaze to Sorrow Hill, a spike of adrenaline erasing his fatigue. Without hesitation, he Sprinted off, trying to reach the tomb before it was too late.

"I didn't think we'd be at it this long," Eleam said quietly. She and Rafe were sitting outside the cave beside a campfire, the Goblin slowly turning a spit with six sizable flanks of raptor flesh speared on it.
"Same here," he told her, glancing at her briefly as she watched the setting sun. "It didn't help that you ended up breaking that pair of struts in the left arm."
The Warrior pouted, looking down at the ground apologetically. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice, "I just haven't worked with machines in a long time."
The Goblin reached over and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "It's allright, girl," he told her warmly. "Besides, they did come out, remember?"
"Yeah," the woman sighed, "but then you had to go back and put those plates back into shape."
"Minor setbacks, my friend," he said with a smile, still turning the meat. "Unless something goes completely crank-over-piston, we'll have this done by tomorrow."

The Goblin reached up to sprinkle some more Hot Spices on the raptor cuts, then turned back to her. "Any word on the boats?" he asked.
Eleam shook her head once. "Nah, they're still stuck. Don't have a clue what's up with 'em, though."
Rafe nodded, but stayed silent, focusing on his Cooking. The fire snapped as juices fell from the meat, giving a pleasant ambiance to the dusk scene. The Warrior drew her legs up underneath her chin, resting her arms on her knees as she watched both the sunset and the Goblin.
"Excuse me," a voice called out behind them, stealing the Gnome's attention.

A Human stood in the clearing, his leather armor identifying him as a Rogue, even as the two longswords at his sides tried to claim otherwise. His dirty blond hair was pulled back into a single ponytail, standing out greatly amongst the dark-colored leather, and his mask was pulled down around his neck, showing a calm and kind face. Brown eyes looked down at them both pleasantly as they stood to face him, and Eleam almost swore she saw the butt of a flintlock pistol poking out from his tunic.
"Can we help you, sir?" the Warrior asked softly, retuning his initial polite attitude.
"I know this is may sound strange, but I was looking for an acquaintance of mine, and was hoping he may have passed through her recently," he told them.
"Can't guarantee anything," the Goblin told him, raising the spit far above the fire, "but there's always a chance. What's the name?"
"Kalderin Rhode," the Human stated plainly.

The Goblin frowned, thinking. "Sound familiar?" he asked his companion.
"Not particularly," she said quietly, scratching the back of her head. "You?"
"I may have heard it once before, maybe," the Engineer admitted, "but I can't say much else."
The Human sighed lightly, shaking his head. "Damn," they heard him breathe. "I suppose it was a long shot to start with, but thanks for hearing me out," he told them.
"Well... wait," the Gnome said, snapping her fingers. "I think Claris mentioned Beldan telling her about a 'Kal' before," she told him.
"Beldan?" the Human asked, his face lighting up. "As in Beldan Agrigar?"
"Yeah, that's him," Eleam told him with a nod.

The Rogue gave a light laugh of relief. "If that's the case, then I'm sure it's the same guy," he informed them. "I think I remember Claris," he said half to himself, looking around in thought.
Rafe lowered the meat again, turning it a little. "Well, she's still in Booty Bay if you need to see her," he told the Human, now setting his attention back to the food.
"Yeah, and if she asks, tell her Eleam sent you," the Gnome added.
"Sure thing," came the light reply as the Rogue began to hurry off. "Thanks a million, you two!" he called out as he passed.

"You sure you trust him?" the Engineer asked when their visitor was out of earshot.
"If he knows Beldan," she replied, "then I trust him to be honest."
Rafe shrugged and pulled out a dagger, turning to test the meat. "Fair enough," he told her. "Well, looks like these are pretty well and done," he said.
"That's a relief," Eleam sighed, rubbing her stomach. "Plates?" she asked sweetly.
"Please," he responded, lifting the spit again.

Something was wrong. The aged marble was resonating with a magic that made the Rogue's skin crawl. He stood, cloaked in shadows, and watched the entrance with anxiety. After several minutes, a Forsaken walked out of the entryway, a sword at his side and a Felhound in tow.
Seeing the beast made the Human flatten against the stone reflexively, trying his best to remain hidden from the Warlock. A few moments later, a loud, unearthly whinny pierced the air, and the mage rode off on a Felsteed. The arcane wave that washed over the area had a profound effect on the boy, who managed to hold himself together long enough to let the Warlock leave sight before dropping to his hands and knees and dry heaving.
It took a few minutes for the sickening effects to wane, but the Rogue grit his teeth and staggered to his feet, shuffling over to the tomb. There, in front of the large effigy of the first Paladin, was what looked to be the Mark of the Lightbringer; but the Rogue's now-enhanced perception told him that the Mark was stained by powerful fel magics.
The Human gave a furtive glare outside the tomb towards the Undercity before kneeling down to the once holy symbol. He reached his left hand out to grasp it, but the corrosive magic scorched his hand before it made contact, and he flinched, jerking his hand back. He knew that the dagger wouldn't be able to break the object, but he didn't know what else to do.

A thought blossomed into a twisted, surreal plan within his mind: Damiran said that he was an "arcane conduit" or something, a hole in the fabric of magic. The Human knew his own susceptibility to arcane energy, but he also remembered several occasions when the traitorous Elves had used his body to extract curses from some items.
They used him as a garbage pit for their unwanted hexes, forcing his body to receive concentrated doses of fel energy to squeeze the enchantments from items, so as to use them for their own ends. A grim, twisted smirk played at his features; perhaps this would prove useful later, but now he had business to attend.
The Human sucked in a deep breath and snatched the relic up in his hand. The very touch of the item sent tendrils of blazing pain through his body, wracking every bone with a bright green glow. Growling, the Rogue willed his body to open itself to the magic, praying that he would have the strength to endure this direct assault on his soul.

Eleam snatched her cup quickly, gulping down a mouthful of Sweet Nectar to put out the peppery fire of the Raptor Roast's spices. Unsurprisingly, the Gnome swallowed a little too fast, and started coughing into her glass as a result, tilting it downward.
"Woah there, girl!" Rafe cried out with a chuckle as he set his plate down, reaching over and giving her a few forceful thumps to the back.
She gave a few loud, railing coughs before catching her breath, the fit becoming a little lighter afterwards. It took a good minute before she could act normally again, doubling over before turning back to the Goblin.
"Thanks," she offered simply, red-faced as she was from the coughing fit.
The Engineer chuckled and shook his head. "You might not want to put a third of the thing in your mouth next time, huh?" he joked.
"But I was hungry," she pouted back with a glimmer of mirth in her eyes.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, turning back to his own plate with a grin.

When the pain finally subsided, he tossed the relic aside and stumbled to the grass before falling over for the second time. This time, however, he vomited blood and chunks of inert felstone that had formed in his body, but the largest portion of purged material was a purple-black substance that lacked any discernible origin.
When he stood, it was very shaky, far worse than when he rose from the rubble of the formerly beautiful Sunshade mansion. The Rogue was barely able to see straight, but somehow managed to stumble back inside and retrieve the true Mark of the Lightbringer.
As he staggered towards the roads, voices caught his attention. A troupe of armored soldiers bearing an Alliance standard rode into view. The leader of the group was a Paladin, as evidenced by his heavily plated Warhorse. Several of the others looked to be Warriors, but there was a pair of Dwarves and a Night Elf alongside them.
He could feel the Elf glaring down from her Nightsaber, her Druidic trappings spelling trouble for the younger Human. The Paladin must have felt the intimate corruption in the boy, but said nothing of it.

"What business have you here, child?" the plate-clad figure asked sternly.
The Rogue swallowed hard, glancing between the seven figures. "Trying to get back to friendly soil, sir," he stated honestly.
"Yeh're in quite ah state, there, lad," one of the two Dwarves, possibly a Hunter, commented.
"What is that in your hand?" the Druid's venomed voice spat at him.
With a wary look at the Kaldorei, he raised his left hand, the relic still clutched in his fist.
"By the Light," the Paladin breathed. "Where did you find that?"
"In there," he said with a jerk of his head. The simple action caused a jolt of pain, but he managed not to flinch. "One of the Forsaken left it there."
"Why would they do that?" one of the other Humans asked as the Paladin guided his mount to the boy. He handed the Mark off easily, hoping that the blame would not fall to him.

The leader held the object in his gloved hand for a while, examining it closely. "This has been corrupted," he stated finally, drawing his horse back to the Druid for her to see.
She scowled at it contemptuously, not daring to take it. "I can see that, Myron. It was tained, yes," she said, tuning her anger to the Rogue, "but how would a wretched whelp like this ever be able to-"
"He did not do this, Aylani," the Paladin interrupted. "He has not the power to do so."
The Night Elf glanced at the Human breifly, but said nothing.
"Shouldn't we return it to the Chapel in Stormwind, Brother?" a female asked. Her vibrant white gown and terminology identified her as a Priest.

The Paladin, Myron, nodded, tucking it into his belt as grasping the reins. "If you wish, young one, you may ride with us," he told the Rogue, "but we can only go as far as The Headland in Alterac."
"Any assistance would be a boon right now, sir," the Rogue replied.
The other Dwarf, a Priest as well, smiled warmly and scooted a little forward on her riding Ram. "Well, then, le's not waste time, laddie."
The Human hurried over and jumped on swiftly, grasping the saddle with all the might his tired body could muster.
"I am deeply grateful," he told her in expet Dwarvish as the pack began to ride.
Both of the Dwarves glanced at him in surprise, but quickly reset their focus on the ride. "Think nothin' of it, lad," the Hunter responded. "Although, we migh' want to know yer name."

The Human grinned, remembering when he was given a nickname from the denizens of Ironforge. "Some called me the Savior in Shadow," he told them.
This time, the Priest did a full double-take of their companion. "Tell me yer jokin'," she shot back.
"I most certainly am not," he said calmly. "You can ask Beld if you want to."
"It really is him," the Hunter said with a bit of bemusement.
Kalderin nodded lightly. He was glad he still had a good name in Ironforge.

"Well, that's the last one," the Goblin said, panting a little. They had just finished adjusting the various gizmos and gears inside that connected the turbine of the boiler to the limbs of the construct.
"For the most part, at least," Eleam added, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. "They may still need some fine-tuning in the morning."
"Yeah, the key words being 'in the morning,'" Rafe noted. "I'm too damn tired to do that now."
The Blacksmith nodded in silent agreement, reaching up to a few of the sconces and extinguishing them with a twist.

"This is where we part company, young one," Myron said, "unless anyone is willing to lead him farther?"
Kalderin noticed that the comment was directed with a knowing look at the Dwarves. "Well," the Hunter began, "I think we migh' be able ta see 'im past Thoradin's Wall, mebbe."
"Then do as you must," the Paladin told them, "but do remember that we will be needed soon, friend."
"Aye aye, sir," the Preist affirmed, leading her Ram away.
"Any particular reason for this kindness?" the Rogue asked the Dwarvish again.
"Call it our good deed fer the day, lad," the Hunter joked.

Even after being shot at by Horde patrols, it still took no time at all to reach the border between Hillsbrad and Arathi. The Human slid from the rear of the saddle, and gave a respectful salute to the pair, which was returned in kind.
"Safe travels," he told them.
"Wind at yer back, young one," the Hunter bade.
"Aye, and Light be with ye," his counterpart wished him, placing a Blessing of Fortitude on him with a kind smile before they turned to ride away.
The clamor of hooves slowly faded, leaving Kalderin very much alone again. Immediately, the full brunt of the day's fatigue slammed into him, causing the boy to nearly collapse on the road. He looked around quickly, finding a tall tree and shuffling slowly over. Though his body was weary, his mind still worked at a frantic pace.
With some difficulty, he managed to hoist himself into the limbs, concealing his presence from any passers-by. Tucking himself into a nook in the branches, he closed his eyes, his tired body quickly dropping into a restless sleep.

Eleam bit down on her left hand lightly, barely stifling the moans trying to escape. She had to stop momentarily as Rafe's light snoring paused, the Goblin shifting in his sleep, but not waking. A few tense moments passed while the Gnome waited, but there was nothing else.
She sighed, smirking as her right hand began to move again, stroking across her clitoris quickly, occasionally moving down to her folds to keep her fingers moist. The rolling waves of pleasure running through her made it hard to keep her from making noise, but so far the Warrior had been able to keep from being too loud.
Every time one of her fingers slid over the bundle of nerves, Eleam had to fight another gasp, moan, or squeal, each one becoming more difficult than the last as her need for release grew greater and closer. She grabbed the cloth of the bag and bit down into it, breathing at a frantic pace as her hips shook uncontrolably.
It made her feel unusually warm, the heat from her body being trapped in the sleeping bag with only one way to exit. She was sweating profusely, her powder blue shirt clinging to her skin, her hair plastered to her forehead, her eyes squezed tightly shut. The Gnome rolled over onto her side, propping her right leg up on the floor for a better angle at her dripping slit.

Her left hand moved under the cover of the bag, groping her breasts through her shirt as she rubbed herself madly. Mind consumed with lust, the Warrior jammed two fingers into her slick folds and moving her other hand to replace the first, trying desperately to ger herself off.
In the midst of all her busy fingering, the Goblin snotred and moved again, but the Gnome was too occupied with her maddening urges to worry. As her friend shifted his weight again, she heard him mutter something that closely resmbled her name.
Hearing that, Eleam stopped dead, though not without a fair bit of panting, and inclined her head to look at where she remembered Rafe to be. She heard it again, he called it out softly in his sleep, sounding dangerously close to a moan than anything else.
The thought of the Engneer having lewd dreams about her intensified the Gnome's lust, setting her juices to flow freely. She licked her lips in anticipation, resuming her menutrations, now wanting to finish more eagerly than before as her mind painted pictures that she hoped her companion was having.
Something within her twitched, and the Gnome's eyes went wide as her hips bucked once, her orgasm striking her completely off guard. The muscles in her pussy clenched down on her fingers, and she stroked herself for as long as she could, riding the rush out to its fullest.

When the Blacksmith finally regained her senses, she pulled her hands away, both of them coated with a layer of her own fluids, her right one especially slick. She shook her head happily, laying down inside the bag easily.
Something big's gonna happen tomorrow, she thought to herself as she drifted off to sleep.

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