A request featuring Sylvanas, an undead high elf, and a male goblin OC I have written about quite a few times before.
***
The noises had drawn her there, to that deep, dark place within Grommash Hold. It was not a part of her routine, her patrol, but she could not ignore the sounds. They were not distraught sounds, or angry sounds, nor were they hidden. They were loud and animalistic and dipped in revelry. The perpetrators did not care if they were heard and were making no effort to conceal themselves.
The room was open and doorless, however the entryway was curtained off by a tapestry of animal hide split down the middle. Her pale fingers gripped at it, peeling it back with a cautious effort and peering inside. Surprise flashed through her, and her long eyebrows raised by their own volition. The emotion was brief and unnatural. She was not accustomed to such strong bursts of emotion. Within the room was a display of such that she had not thought about for many long years: sex. In this case, sex between Sylvanas and two goblins, a male and a female. They both looked young and ordinary, sporting nothing that stood out except perhaps for the female's teal colored hair.
The male was relaxed upon the ground, moaning while Sylvanas serviced him with her breasts, massaging the soft, fleshy mountains up and down his member, smothering his viridian tool and causing it to leak with a consistent dribble of pre-cum. The female goblin was parked behind the Dark Lady, greedy hands spreading her blue cheeks with her face smothered between them, no doubt putting her tongue to good use.
The ranger watched with rapt fascination in a manner that was at first scholarly, curious about the implications of her dark mistress participating in such an activity and what that meant for her. They were both the same, mostly: undead elves that nearly looked like their living counterparts if not for their glowing red eyes and exotic skin tones. Did that mean she was capable of such things? The trio repositioned, and she shrunk back as they did so, suddenly unsure of her right to watch and observe. After a moment however, she peeked inside again. Sylvanas was on her hands and knees proper now, and the goblins had swapped positions.
They were a mix of cerulean and green, or cerulean between green, and the sopping, wet, slapping of bodies coming together assaulted her ears. Sylvanas was sucking on some sort of strap-on device tied about the female goblin. It seemed overly large and oddly shaped, as if to mimic the appendage of a worgen or tauren or other beastly creature, and she was surprised that her mistress could fit such a thing in her throat. From behind, the male goblin fed his length into her wetness, his small body battering against Sylvanas' impressively large ass. He was surprisingly well endowed, and her eyes lingered on the brief glimpses of his cock she received every time he winded his hips backwards before thrusting.
She had been with other elves while she was still amongst the living, and it was clear, despite her obfuscated view and his small stature, that the goblin was well endowed. Sylvanas was enjoying it, and the thought of switching places with her arose. For if the Dark Lady could enjoy cock, so could she. It had been many decades since she'd last engaged in that sort of primal undertaking, but she knew that it was not beyond her reach now. Undead or not, the functions were still there--the desire was still there, though it had not shown itself before. Even now the juices, the wetness, between her legs was beginning to stir.
It was unlikely that her mistress would appreciate her intruding, so she hatched a plan and stealthily retreated from the doorway. She would get her hands on that goblin tonight.
***
The thirsty dark ranger was waiting near the exit under the pretense of keeping watch when the goblins finally appeared. She'd learned their names from another ranger. They came here often, and she was certain now that her plan would work. It was simple: lure the male away from the female. It would be easy, and the male would like it, no doubt.
She stepped in front of them as they drew close and gestured towards Krib. "The Dark Lady has requested your presence." The ranger's eyes shifted to Neiza, briefly inspecting her before returning her gaze to Krib. "Not the female."
"But we were just with her," Neiza protested.
Krib gave her a pat on the shoulder. "It's all right. I'll be back later," he said, and then turned to the elf. "Lead the way."
She led him through the Warchief's complex and to a small room that was only marginally bigger than a supply closet with a glowing yellow-orange lamp of Sin'dorei origin that illuminated the interior. There was a simple bed, a simple table, a simple shelf with some books, and not much else except for a variety of weapons fastidiously stored about the room. When he stepped inside, the door clicked shut and then she was standing in front of him, her face a mask of impassivity. The air felt chilled, and she wasted no time getting down to business.
"Strip," she ordered.
Krib quickly surveyed the room, checking every corner and every shadow for wherever the Banshee Queen may have been hiding. Nothing. There was no sign of her. "Uh... are you sure you're not mistaken somehow? Sylvanas isn't even here."
The dark ranger was silent, but those piercing red eyes, so similar to Sylvanas', said all that needed to be said. She stared him down, her beautiful face expressionless, her eyes blinking at an unnatural interval as if she was trying and not quite succeeding at appearing normal. There was little choice. Slowly, he undressed, her gaze raking over his bare skin with every garment removed until he stood there naked in the middle of the room. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't mind a pretty girl telling him to strip, but this was one of Sylvanas' rangers, and the elf wasn't being very forthcoming. Sylvanas was typically cool, calm, and collected, but he had witnessed on rare occasions her outbursts: catastrophic fury that shook the walls and your very bones. He did not wish to be caught here in this room with this ranger out of that fear alone.
Her eyes scanned his body and it was clear that what she was most interested in was the appendage between his legs. He mustered his courage and asked her for her name.
"My name is Vera Darkglade." She motioned toward the bed with her head. "You will sit down now."
If Vera was after what he thought she was after there wasn't much point in arguing, or complaining. She was no Sylvanas, but her elven beauty was apparent despite her unnaturally pale skin and red lantern eyes. He sat down and she eyed his resting manhood as it slowly stirred to life.
"Good," she said, but it was as if she was speaking to herself, reading off a manual and ensuring she was doing things prim and proper. It was the next step that he was waiting for, and he watched with wide-eyed interest as the elf began to shed her own clothing. She wore light leather typical of the standard dark ranger uniform; it came off in layers, revealing more and more of her smooth alabaster skin until she was down to her linens. Vera was long limbed and lissome, with dark hair, skin as pale as a full moon and breasts that appeared almost out of place on her slender frame, so that when they were freed from their confinements he couldn't do anything but stare. They hung high on her chest, full and plump and soft, with pink nipples that were hard as bullets.
