Walk Down Murder Row

It was a dull day, to say the least. The last hazes of summer clung to the air in a warm, humid shield even though October was drawing to a close. The odd weather was shrugged off by most of the elves of Silvermoon, however. Earthquakes and other odd phenomena in the south made an unusually warm autumn far less of a concern than the thought that such things might work their way northwards to the gates of Quel’Thalas. Nevertheless, there would always be complainers. Malcontents.

“Fuck. It is hot as an orc’s ball sack under this plate.”

The speaker was a fiery-haired elf, his face twisted into an eternal sneer of contempt. Even when smiling, it looked to be a frown. The crimson tresses hung in an unruly foxtail down his back, bound out of the proud features by a thin leather tie. It framed his moderately worn, yet undeniably beautiful features perfectly. Upon the left cheek, a tattoo rested, of a white spade upon a black background. It shone lightly, almost as if it were a rune-mark instead of just a decoration. The armor he wore was hardy stuff. Built to withstand a torrential beating, it bore nicks, dents, and rather large scratches against its shining surface. His form might be called ‘built’; height seeming to rival many of his brethren and bulk certainly bordering on ‘disproportionate’. A blood red tabard was draped over all this, its borders a dark ebony. The symbol that was stitched into the forefront was of an eagle, or perhaps a gryphon. All in all, the Blood Knight wore arrogance and violence like a cloak about his shoulders.

“Tch. Poor you. This leather is sticking to me like a second fucking skin.”

The rogue’s voice oozed from beneath the blood red hood he wore, hissing out upon the air. It carried a sort of quality one might immediately deem as… Well, asshole. In fact, the very air around him was nothing but ‘I am better than you, fuck off.’ It was the posture, the way he held himself, as if the lean, muscular elf was always looking down upon his Sin’Dorei brothers and sisters. Surely he was built to perfection, and this was part of the issue, for who could possibly argue that he was not stunning? Shadows and crimson accented his form, tracing and clinging tightly to every muscle, every manly curvature. It left very little to the imagination, leathers like that. Even though they covered him from head to toe, not even an inch of skin seen… Unless you counted fingertips. He looked dangerous, cocky, sure of himself as he leaned there upon his Blood Knight compatriot. The speed to the red-head’s strength.

“I know, right? Ugh. What I wouldn’t give for ventilation.”

The second rogue stood a little apart from the other two; he wasn’t quite ‘in’ the little circle they seemed to project around them. An outsider, though the flash of longing that skittered through his gaze when he eyed the duo spoke volumes about what he really wanted to be. ‘One of the guys’. His leathers seemed newer, and less impressive than the Shadow Man he was stanced just behind. Almost a ranger feel to them, plain but perfectly serviceable in all respects. They too clung to his form, though perhaps not quite as perfectly. It wasn’t that he was ugly; this was far from the case. The brunette was just built far differently than one expected of any elf. A bit shorter.. Bit broader, perhaps.. And well, if his ears weren’t AS pointy.. Who could fault his father for succumbing to the beauty of an elf? A Halfling no doubt, though quite obviously he tried to hide it with the long, soft hazel tresses that cascaded about his shoulders in a gentle fall. There was a smile upon his face that suggested that laughter did not come easily, at least not true laughter. This was a man of lies and silken tongues, tongues that dripped different flavors of poison into all the ears that they could find.

The street that the trio stood upon was rather dimly lit. Only three street lamps, spaced widely apart gave the aptly named ‘Murder Row’ a dark feeling. Even at this time in the afternoon it gave blessed shade, with the awnings that hung over the ‘roof’ of the alleyway to block out the sunlight. But this hardly mattered, when the air was so heavy as it was today. A wet heat, that rolled over everyone and made tempers spike to nearly insane levels in hot heads and calm minds alike. It really didn’t help that there wasn’t so much as a soul in sight at the moment that could be used as a vent for the frustrations of the three.

The Blood knight growls sharply, tossing his shoulder roughly so as to knock the crimson rogue off himself. Feet shift from side to side, as he looks around the row in apparent irritation.

“Where the –fuck- are all the shit-stains at this hour? It’s the middle of the day. Usually I’m tripping over six or seven lessers that feel the need to mouth off at me by now.”

“And I’m knee deep in whores. What can I say? Bad luck today.”

He replies smoothly to his compatriot, letting the shove cause his body to sway like a sapling within a breeze before coming back to rest lightly at his side. Almost absently, shadow clad arm circles his bulky shoulders, giving a reassuring squeeze as the Light-manipulator snarls, turning to snap into his masked features.

“Sex. Aralas, that’s all you ever think of.”

“Incorrect. Occasionally I think of thistle, and rather often of stabbing some idiot in a humorous manner. Besides; you have just as many little side-jobs as I do. Where’s your trick-of-the-week, hnnn? She could entertain us.”

“Fuck if I know.”

The clearing of a throat is heard, the two bantering fighters glancing to the individual standing slightly behind them, awaiting whatever his quip was to be with an expectant air.

“Er… Annexious, you could always just arrest some prostitute in Wayfarrer’s. We could get a good time, no price to pay… Don’t even have to let her live after.”

They stared at him for a rather long moment, the rogue’s features hidden; the Blood Knight’s almost thoughtful in nature. It actually looked like they were actually considering it, until a snort issues from beneath the mask, Aralas removing his arm from the set of broad, armored shoulders.

“That’s retarded, Valste. One, there might not be as many diseases as Goldshire, but I’ll be damned if I’d chance it. Two, half the women in that place already have a cock. If I wanted to fuck something with my own equipment, I’d just screw a man…”

The brunette shrugs absently, rubbing a hand to the back of his neck as he mutters, fingers raking through the feathery tresses.

“Screwing a girl in the ass can’t be any different than doing it to a guy, can it? And what about oral. If they’re the one on their knees, you ain’t gay. And Yogg knows it’d feel the same, whatever gender, if you closed your eyes.”

“-Seriously-?”

Annexious snaps it out, shoving past the shadow stalker that had been between him and the half-elf, to loom over him with an air of imminent violence. One might say his intent was malicious.

“Are you seriously, going to stand there and tell me you’d rather screw something with a dick than a woman?”

“No, I—“

“Are you some kind of….”

“Fag, Annexious.”

Aralas supplies the word with an air of amusement, overlooking the scene with quiet detachment.

“Some kind of fucking FAG?”

The Blood Knight barks it into the shorter man’s features. He topped him by almost a foot and a half, a looming presence over the rather uncomfortable rogue, who shifted lightly upon his feet, hands held up. A frown crosses his features, trying his best to look intimidating, or at the very least give an air of calm.

“No, of course not! I’m not into—“

“I don’t know WHAT they taught you while you were in Stormwind, but here on THIS side of the eastern kingdoms, we do things properly!”

“Like build fucking Mana Cannons?”

As soon as the words passed his lips, he didn’t know why he said them. It was the stupidest, most idiotic, and possibly the most dangerous comment one could make to the far-too-hot-and-bothered Bloodfury. A reminder of his most ridiculous of attempts into the military field, and what was probably the defining moment that cemented his eternal ridicule at the hands of the populace. Left fist bunches, the plated monstrosity slamming for Valste’s jaw with unprecedented speed; trails of holy fires sparking in its wake as he aims to quite literally sock his head off. But if there is one thing a rogue is good at; ‘tis dodging. The brunette hurls himself backwards; his body entering a rather evasive state as the fist only clips his ear, causing him to wince.

“Nn.. Come on, damn, I was only kidding!”

“Oho, you’ve really done it now. Not smart, halfy.”

The crimson rogue couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice, shifting his slender form to prop back against the wall. Arms cross over the well-muscled chest as he watches the enraged Blood Knight hurl a shield that seemed to be comprised of pure light at his opponent’s face. Valste dives, the shield only clipping his shoulder and stunning him as he dropped to his knees. This is met almost immediately by a plate boot rocketing up and into his gut, a sharp ‘crack’ heard as a rib is presumably broken in the vicious punting motion.

“Hnn!”

“Don’t you EVER make fun of me, you traitor. First, you’re an undead. Then, you’re a human. Then, you’re really a half-elf?! PICK A FUCKING SIDE, AND MAKE UP YOUR DAMN MIND BEFORE I END YOU.”

“Well. At least he’s consistent. No matter what side he’s on, he’s still a bitch.”

Snickers peel through the air, mingling with the oppressive heat and the dry, heaving coughs that spilled past the lips of the man on the ground, his arms curled protectively about his torso. Annexious clears his throat, the crimson haired man’s features twisting as he purses those scowling lips, hacking up a wad of spit and propelling it at Valste’s head.

“True. His spine is as fluid as a mana wyrm’s.”

The shadowy man pulls himself from the wall, slinking forward to curl his fingers into the brown tresses of the downed rogue and yank him up to his knees, head pulled back so that the masked individual could look upon his features, head tilting ever so lightly to one side.

“You know, I gotta wonder. How many of the Magisters did you have to blow before they allowed you back into the city? After attacking it for nearly a month with your little alliance pals?”

“He was attacking the city?”

The Blood Knight actually sounded confused a moment, head tilting to one side in askance. For one who claimed to be such an avid protector of the city, rarely could he be seen… Well… Defending it.

“It was during your Duskwallow vacation.”

“Ahhh. Good times. Good times.”

Moving behind the rogue, large gauntlet clad fingers suddenly shoot out, grasping his wrists as Valste inched for the daggers at his hips. With a twist, they were held up behind his back at a rather painful angle, the man gasping rather sharply at the pain. Spine arches, teeth gritted against the harsh positioning.

“You see that, Aralas? He was about to switch sides again.”

“Just like a bitch. Hmmm…”

The fingers that were laced in the pale rogue’s hair tighten, giving a jerk as Aralas glances about. The street was still empty; heat of the day keeping everyone indoors. Reddish gaze, distorted by the mask drifts down to rest upon the furious, nervous features of the man held captive before him. His free hand comes up, flicking thumb across Valste’s lips in a rather teasing fashion.

“I wonder if what he said is right. If it –is- the same as a chick with your eyes closed.”

“…You’re not serious. Alright, jokes over, let me up! I get it, we don’t talk about Azshara!”

A sharp kick to the back of his thigh had the Halfling crying out all over again, a thrash against the strong hands that gripped him. Although, even Annexious looked at his rogue compatriot with a disbelieving sort of grimace.

“Ew. You want to touch that?”

“Eh… It can’t be that much different from a female slut.”

So saying, free hand was already moving to unlace the bindings of his tight leathers. Unbuckling the frag belt around his waist, he lets it drop slowly to the ground before the leather laces are untied in a rather taunting fashion. Valste’s gaze fixes upon the point with a sort of horrified fascination; this.. Wasn’t really happening.. Was it? But it was. Aralas snickers at the look painted over the smaller man’s features as he finishes, his semi-erect member springing out before the half-elf’s features. The leathers were so tight that they didn’t allow for any sort of undergarments. They’d only chaff and limit movements as he pursued his targets. The pale rod twitches lightly in the warm air, its length glistening slightly with a sheen of sweat from being confined within the rather uncomfortable armor for so long, in such weather.

“Well? Lets TEST your theory. –Break his neck if he bites me.”

Yanking roughly on the captive tresses, he brings Valste’s features to his groin, forcing his tightly pursed lips and the smooth skin of his cheek against the steadily hardening member. Grunting, the harassed halfy refuses to part those soft pink petals to Aralas’s insistent and mocking little grind. From behind, Annexious gazes on in quiet amusement, the irony of the situation out weighing his initial disgust. Seeing that the traitor wasn’t going to co-operate, he would get an idea. Left foot is drawn back, before being driven sharply forward into Valste’s groin. A groan of absolute agony rips his lips open, eyes widening and fel green pupils dilating. With all due swiftness, the crimson-drenched shadow makes quick use of the opportunity presented; his thick hardness is shoved past slackened jaw and yielding lips to lodge itself firmly in the back of his throat. A soft noise escapes the mask that still cloaked his own features, reveling in the feel of the warm, wet cavern that surrounded his stiffened arousal. The veins upon the underside of his hardness begin to pulse as the brunette’s tongue twitches in shock, accidently lapping at him in its spastic reaction to the invasion. Gripping Valste’s hair firmly, the shadow dancer leans back against the wall, adjusting a moment as the man gags about his impressive size. Big dick. What a surprise. Slowly, he begins to tug, pulling him off a few inches to allow a gasping breath. Spittle glistens along the length, gleaming in the dim light of the lamps from oh so far away. The dark little corner there upon the steps was perfect for this sort of thing, and one had to wonder just how practiced the two assailants were at this. Aralas views his catch with a quiet sort of mocking amusement, stroking his cheek as a lover might… Before yanking him forward again, giving his shapely hips a thrust to aid in sliding the hard member down into the back of the man’s throat. Aralas chuckles tightly at the look upon his face as the half elf’s throat gags and spasms around the swollen, spongy head of his cock.

“Hnnn… Well.. I knew you liked sucking our dicks.. I just didn’t know how much..”

He purrs it out, a throaty sort of chuckle being the answer from his partner in crime. The Blood Knight watched Valste like a hawk as Aralas set a slow, sensual pace. Guiding the man with a firm hand to gulp down more and more of his throbbing length. The slow rolls of his hips as he thrust, the tug of the hand in the poor brunette’s hair.. It was all rather sadistic, this was for certain. And that’s ultimately what made Annexious realize his plate leggards were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Uncomfortably, he began to shift from side to side, averting his eyes from the scene but keeping a firm grip upon the rogue’s wrists. But he couldn’t escape the sounds; a wet, slurping sort of noise every time Aralas’s slickened shaft slipped out of its tight, warm little home. It was making his armor increasingly uncomfortable and his temper flare all over again. The soft groans that his friend tried to muffle weren’t exactly helping things either. Finally, with a snarl, he reaches for his belt with one hand, tugging the ‘cuffs’ that a few Blood Knights and guards seemed keen on keeping with them. Securing the runed metal bindings to Valste’s slender wrists and ignoring the muffled sounds of his protests, he begins to unbuckle the heavy leggards. They fall away with a clunk, revealing scarred legs that were built like small tree trunks, the muscles standing out like ripcords as tense as they were with the frustration he was feeling. Soft white linen breeches were beneath; and he hastily unlaces them, ripping one in his rough tugging. The manhood beneath is already hard; standing stiffly to attention and throbbing slowly with its pent up need to be buried in something tight and hot. A small bead of precum dribbles from its bulbous head.

With a snarl, free hand goes to the dull brown leather of Valste’s pants, ripping them from his much smaller form with little effort. So pale beneath, small scars dotting the length of his slender dancer’s legs. The length between his legs was smaller than his two aggressors, but that may simply have been because it was limp and there was no arousal to get out of such a horrid situation. Rough hands grip the man’s shapely hips, grinning morbidly as he feels the tremble of fear wrack him. But without mercy, he hauls the little spy to his feet, positioning him in a half bent fashion to be able to continue pleasuring Aralas properly. Digging metallic thumbs between the tight, pert cheeks of his creamy ass, he peels the twin globes of pliable flesh apart to view the small, presumably untried hole that lay hidden there.

“Time for war reparations…”

Meeting the muted glow of Aralas’s eyes above their victim, Annexious grins in a feral sort of manner, positioning himself with the swollen head of his thickness pressing into the tiny hole. A muffled, panicked cry vibrates along Aralas’s shaft, the wet organ massaged by the fearful contractions of the man’s throat as the rogue was forcibly transformed into the bitch everyone took him as. With one ruthless thrust, Annexious was inside him, his shaft buried balls deep within the tight confines as he lets out an agonized groan of pleasure. The screams and sobs of pain are choked out upon the thick hardness lodged in Valste’s throat, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Holding still a moment, the Blood Knight revels in the feelings that were surrounding him; the tight squeeze of the spy’s walls trying desperately to force the intruder out; the small trickle of blood that wet his hardness from the harsh entrance. After all, he hadn’t tried to prepare him.. Why would he? No one else’s pleasure mattered.

“-Fuck- this bitch is tight…”

“That’s s.. surprising.. Hnn..”

Beginning to thrust now, he makes little effort to contain his appetites. The slam of hips upon ass rings out like a harsh slapping within the Row, as the throbbing manhood plunges in and out of the tight little hole. It didn’t stay like that for long; loosening up as Valste’s nethers are rutted into with almost animalistic intensity. He whimpers and groans around the shaft pumped with slow insistence into his mouth, the noises only serving to further pleasure his tormentors. Wrists are rubbed raw against the metallic cuffs that bind them together behind his back, the skin becoming chaffed and bloodied in his useless struggles. Legs tremble, struggling to hold him up under the ruthless onslaught; the twin dicks assaulting his vulnerable holes from both ends in perfect synch far more pain and humiliation than the half elf was able to handle. But there was another; far more secret shame that had him sobbing around the soaked length in his mouth…

“…Well no wonder he kept assaulting the city. Little bitch is a Masochist.. He liked the pain..”

Aralas laughs, drawing attention to Valste’s stiffening member. Grunting, Annexious digs his fingers into the man’s hips hard enough to draw blood around the plate clad digits. Leaning forward as he continues to thrust, he would snarl into the smaller man’s left ear, biting down upon it wolfishly.

“Is that so? You like what we’re doing? Fucking fag…”

Tugging off one gauntlet, he reaches beneath the man to grasp his stiffening hardness, roughly manipulating the petite halfy’s arousal with one thumb flicking lightly over the blossoming head of the erection, smearing the tiny bead of precum. The lewd slap of Annexious’s ball sack against the brunette’s own package was more than enough to excite Aralas near to the point of bursting; and Valste’s own groans vibrating down the length of his throbbing hardness was all it took to make the normally calm rogue lose all semblance of control. Gripping the sides of his head, he begins to ruthlessly fuck his mouth, the gentle rolling of hips transforming into a full out pounding as he slide deep into the slick, tight throat that now eagerly engulfed him. Tongue lapping sensuously at the underside to further stimulate the attentions.

“Ooooh… You sweet little piece of ass..”

Roaring, Annexious straightens, grasping for the hapless Valste’s hips again and literally pummeling his now loose and yielding ass with all his might as it flexes, tightening and loosening in synch around his thick monster. A subtle yellow sheen seems to grow upon the Blood Knight.. His hair lightening to an almost golden color, and seeming to lengthen just a tad as it pooled around his mostly armored form in a vibrant aura of violent Light.

“KNEEL BEFORE THE MIGHT OF HOUSE BLOODFURY!”

His roar would surely have brought most of the city running.. If it wasn’t for the fact that he cried it out roughly three times an hour or so. And was despised by nine tenths of the populace. As it was, this was the signal of his release, expending himself into the rogue’s clenching hole with one last erratic thrust that sent his seed spilling into the surely ruptured anal cavity with reckless abandon. Aralas watched the Blood Knight’s twist in pleasure, the sight causing his balls to tighten as he too spilled his seed within the spasming chasm of Valste’s throat. Dutifully the tousled and abused man gulps down the hot, sticky spunk, gagging and choking as it poured down his throat.
“Ohhhh… Fuck yes…”

Annexious pants softly, his chest rising and falling like a race horse’s as he slowly pulls the softening member from its sheath. Seed trickles down the backs of Valste’s legs as he sinks shakily to his knees, ass gaping from the pummeling it had endured and oozing the aborted spawn of House Bloodfury. Without a word, Annexious wipes his cock off in the still aroused man’s hair, before lacing his undershorts back up and reaching for his leg plates. Aralas gently pets his features, slowly prying the eager lips off his shaft and pushing him back so that Valste landed on his side with a whimper. The grin under the Bloodfang hood went unseen as he inspected the work, whilst lacing his leathers back up again. There lay the Alliance traitor, panting and coughing helplessly as he tried to get a grip upon himself. Hands still cuffed behind his back, pants all but shreds that clung around his boots. Throbbing hardness protruding between his legs, unfulfilled though they had already had their fun. Chuckling as Annexious walks off without bothering a backwards glance at his whore, Aralas makes a kissy noise underneath the mask he wore.

“If I didn’t wonder what you could DO with them Valste, I’d take one of your hands as a trophy…”

“Aralas, are you done with it yet? Come on, I need to find my trick so we can go on another vacation.”

“Oooooo, are we sharing this time? Count me in.”

Slipping into the shadows, the crimson drenched rogue creeps after his master like a good little dog, to stay placed at his boot heels. And Valste lay there, whimpering in helpless unfullfillment.

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The Peanut Ninja is watching you. You, with the face.