Thread: Prisoner Spoils (ExodusxAznTwink)

The raid on the Outpost had come as a surprise to the camps inhabitants, the Alliance seeming to have come out of nowhere. The damned Night Elves had come first, melded into shadow, providing a strong initial assault, giving the rest of their forces enough time to penetrate the borders of the camp. Noesis had only supposed to be stopping by the camp briefly having some business to tend to with an elderly tauren who had asked her to deliver a parcel to Thunderbluff, as he had been too old and tired to brave the wilderness on his own. As the first wave of the attack hit she ducked out of his tent, her delicate fingers already reaching for the ornate staff that she had tethered to the back of her belt. She could hear the screams coming from a myriad of languages, some familiar and some not, and grit her teeth in annoyance. Had some Alliance wretch wandered into camp looking for an easy kill? How foolish. Still, she decided she might as well see if her shadow spells could be of any assistance. What she saw as she came round the corner of the inn stopped her dead in her tracks. It was an all out war! Already every Horde soldier seemed wrapped up in battle, and there will still more of the devils coming! She hadn't been travelling for very long, while not quite a novice, these kinds of grisly scenes were unfamaliar and disturbing. Blinking shocked, brilliant emerald eyes she rushed forward to join a group of other casters and began to toss bolts of shadow in every direction as fast as she could. At first things had gone well, and she had felt the warmth that came from sucking the life energy from her enemies, a feeling so intense it came close to lust. Her eyes flashed dangerously as a dwarf crumpled before her, twitching and groaning as she siphoned the last of his life into her greedy fingers. A warlock in battle was a provocative image, as she licked her full lips in anticipation of the next blast of shadow magic she could wield. Before too long, however, the Horde defenses began to waver. As more and more of the guards fell she felt a pang of fear, knowing her delicate robes would be of little use against the blunt force of the Alliance - and she could feel herself running low on mana. Before too long, she and the others were on the defensive shields were being thrown up, demons and pets sacrificed, while magic users crumpled helplessly under the weight of the melee forces. She had been wrestled to the ground by a She-Elf, the amazon's violet skin glowing with bloodlust and triumph as she pinned the much smaller blood elf to the ground. With her arms bound, she waited quietly with the rest of the survivors, mostly magic users or the very weak and old, and glared hatefully in the direction of the night elves. They stood tall, proud, and apart from the others as the Alliance cheered and began to split up their loot. Hopefully, she would be left with the others to soak in their defeat and clean up the dead... However, a few prisoners here and there were being led away, some male and some female, and of all races. This worried her a little as she recalled tales of prisoners of war never returning home. She recognized the rogue as he approached her, and glowered as he came towards her. She had seen him use his stealth and cheap shotting abilities to work his way through the defenses of the horde, killing without remorse. Still, there was little more she could do except struggle when he reached to seize her by the coils of robe that bound her arms, his daggers much faster than any of the spells she could cast. She screamed and cursed when he lifted her up, tossing her rather carelessly onto the back of his mount. She shifted uncomfortably, her legs being spread a bit further than a much taller Night elve's would, the saddle grinding uncomfortably against her once he had her securely pressed into the leather, his arms coming around her, blocking any attempt to jump and escape as the rode. The brutish night elf immediately turned the saber north and pushed the speed of the beast as far as he could. Before too long the plains of the Barrens faded and the forests of Ashenvale loomed. Darnassus? She mumbled softly to herself, her accent thick and elegant as she attempted to speak Common. Of all the places in Azeroth he could have taken her, it had to be the Treehugger home of the damned Night Elves! Before too long however, after making very little headway through the forest he had sudenly direct the saber off then beaten path, sending them rushing through the brush. She could not help but lean back into him as she avoided the sting of the foliage snapping past them. Coming to a sudden halt she rocked forward in the saddle almost losing her balance, barely getting a glimpse of the tiny clearing he had found. Was he planning to make camp? Here? Surely they were not far from an Alliance camp? Before she could ask she felt his hands on her, gripping her robes and tossing her rather easily off of the mount. Her tiny body crumpled against the trunk of an ancient tree and she yelped as she hit the ground rather roughly with her arms still bound behind her back, there was no way to break the fall. Her robes flared around her, revealing soft, pale calves and a glimpse of her thighs as she lifted herslef up to sit up against the tree. Bastard! She shrieked in Thalassian as he approached, taunting her with words of pride and power and superiority. Her eyes burned with hate, shadow energy practically sizzling off her skin. Before she could throw another insult at him however, he had already stripped himself of his leather leggings, his loin cloth doing little to cover his flaccid length. She stared open mouthed for a moment in disbelief. Blood elves were only small in comparison, built to satisfy their own race... This brute was easily twice the size of what she was used too, built to satisfy loose night elve women! What did he expect her to do with that? She growled threateningly her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and rage, unsure if she had heard his command quite right. The words 'quality tongue work' struck a chord in her and she gasped, recoiling from him, and glaring upwards. I'd rather die, you disgusting neanderthal! She hissed, and spat at him, her salivia softly hitting his length.