The paladin Sharizon grumpily trode past the droll grey domiciles of the mountain city of Ironforge. His hard, weathered face was rigid with a forced, overtaxed patience. His unibrow was furrowed; his lips remained pursed in silent fury. His heavily nicked saronite and titansteel armor clicked and clanked as he made his way towards the armor shop. Sharizon grumpily blinked as he ran a finger through his rust-brown cowlicks, throwing a slick of viscous zombie ichor to the wall. He marched forward in silence, ignoring the spectacle following behind him.
"...don't know why you socket agility, personally I prefer expertise, it prevents burst and improves threat, and it's not as though threat is a non-issue,
by the light
, it's every half minute we hear some mage or warlock or warrior pulling aggro, and all you can say is "what is eggroll, what is eggroll", I don't even know what the hell is that supposed to mean - what is an eggroll, anyway?"
Behind him strode another paladin - a rambling, disheveled draenei. Even and perhaps especially when ranting furiously, Aestu exerted a strange charm and magnetism. Her opalescent blue eyes blazed with fury; her long, goat-like horns and white-gold pigtails bobbed up down as she gesticulated, pointing and hammering fist into palm. She had not bothered to brush off the remains of the vile spirits and abominations that had splattered their guts onto her all night. For some reason, they always tasked Aestu with tanking the undead things that had a habit of exploding their rotten guts onto whomever they were looking at. Bits of mucus and bile dripped down onto the cobblestones with each click-clack of her hooves. Beneath the ichor and filthy rime splattered all over her holy armor, she was actually kind of cute - toned but curvy in all the right places, with amazingly smooth, glowing blue-silver skin.
Sharizon stepped into the armor shop and began to unsnap his armor, piece by piece, passing it to the stolid, expressionless dwarf armorer, who took each piece in turn, nodding with an "...Aye...Aye...Aye...", also completely ignoring the loquacious, argumentative draenei standing behind him. Finally he turned to her querously. "Lad-ee Aee-tsu?" he said in heavily accented Common. Aestu glared, acknowledged him with a glance, and began unsnapping her armor piece by piece as well. The armorer mutely nodded as he took each piece. Sharizon meanwhile had handed over all his armor. Nonplussed, he stood immovable, taking in Aestu's ramblings, which continued unabated as she removed her armor.
"...but really there's a lot of things you can do, and all you ever say to me, all my suggestions, all my really great ideas, having done this for years, before you were even born, I'm a draenei and we're way older than we look, you know, all that wisdom and knowledge and all you can ever say is..."
"SHUT UP!"
Sharizon's patience snapped. Aestu stopped mid-sentence, turned her attentions from undoing the strap connecting her Lightbringer blue-orange breastplate to her marbled blue forearm, stopped and stared at the swarthy, red-faced human. "Just shut the fuck up, Aestu, Shut, the, fuck, up! Seriously... Fucking shut up! All we ever hear, night after night, is your inane rambling. We get it. You're a draenei, you're smarter than us, better than us. We have to listen to you about every thought that passes between your horns. Sargeras chose your people to rule the universe but you're just here slaying dragons with us because you're so nice... Seriously. Fucking take your mace and suck on it."
The dwarf armorer had discreetly exited the room, burdened with a pile of armor from the two paladins heaped high above his head, leaving the belligerent duo in the dressing room, stripped down to their underwear, Sharizon in his rough brown linen shirt and boxers and Aestu in her blue bra and thong, her frilly purple undershirt still held to body by her breastplate and the right elbow strap that had become stuck after the six-hour running battle through the halls of Icecrown.
"Don't you tell me to shut up, Sharizon."
"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up - Hey recognize that? - Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up - 'Hey, I'm Aestu' - shut up, shut up, shut up."
"You shut up!"
"No, really, why don't you, fucking following me around rambling about eggrolls. Take your own advice for once and really, shut up."
Aestu stared at Sharizon for a minute. She smiled, mildly amused. No axe of steel nor sharp words of man could strike down her ineffable ego. Having no valid response, she very typically settled on a self-serving
non sequitor
: her immediate concern. "Can you help me undo this strap, please?"
"Suck it, Aestu. Suck my cock."
The draenei continued to glare at Sharizon...then smiled, revealing her small, cute fangs. The human could not have seen it coming. He certainly didn't see it coming, and it took him a moment to register his boxers around his ankles and the voracious goat-chick noisily complying.
Slurckk...slurkkk....sssluurrkkk..
Her grey tongue was short, but serrated with long, fleshy cillia that teased and coaxed his engorged manliness; her warm mouth salivated as if devouring a succulent mouthful of beef.
Slurckk...
"Mmmm...is there a problem, Sharizon? You asked..."
Sharizon stared down and the luminous-eyed goat chick stared back up at him with a dirty grin. His brain spun in his skull, reeling at the
possibilities
. One and a half seconds later he manned up and snapped,
"Yeah, bitch. Yeah, I asked. Go on, suck that cock."
The blue girl giggled, lowered her horns and and again licked and sucked his manliness, faster and faster, deeper and deeper. For all her energetic throating, the exciting action of her glottal cilia, Sharizon's deep-lunged moaning, she wasn't getting any tangible results.