A silvery streak of light struck down the last Satyr, the demon's smoking body hitting the ground with a loud thump.
Talena wiped her brow with the back of her arm. "How many of them must we destroy before we manage to restore our lands?"
The silver of her robes was marred by splotches of green, demonic blood.
Shalendris placed a fist on her cocked hip, feigning offense. "Do you so tire of working alongside me?" the druidess said.
The two stared at each other for a brief moment before their lips slowly curled into smiles.
"Never in a thousand years."
"Or ten."
Since the Third War had ravaged the northern parts of Ashenvale, tainting the ancient forests with demonic energy, great progress had been made in restoring the lands to their former glory. The recent defeat of the Burning Legion had only accelerated that progress, though small pockets of demonic resistance remained in the elven homeland.
Shalendris, like most druids, was well-attuned to nature itself. The feelings of the surrounding flora, from the tiniest acorn to the greatest of oaks, could be felt by the woman. Not only that, but her body would reflect the general health of whichever location she spent time in, absorbing some small portion of the life essence of the surrounding wilds.
This absorption of life energy would translate into incremental increases to the woman's bust and rear, sometimes even inducing lactation. Her chest had been described by some as "two huge, bouncy, mana batteries".
On the flip side, however, environments with little to no life energy, or places heavily influenced by fel or necrotic energies, had the reverse effect on the druidess. If she remained too long in these heavily corrupted places, she would effectively become flat-chested, with no mana to cast her spells.
Such was the case in the region known as Felwood. Much of the land had known considerable regrowth, but much work yet remained. And, seeing as Talena and Shalendris were most often assigned to those locations most afflicted by dark magics, the purple-haired elf's bust had taken a severe hit.
Most of the time, her chest would be nothing short of colossal, two mountainous orbs barely held back by the inadequate tops she wore. But these days, her tits were smaller even than her own head, smaller even than Talena's considerable endowments!
"When's the last time your you've shrunk down this much?" the priestess asked, the pair approaching the nearby Kaldorei encampment astride their nightsaber panthers.
Tucking a long strand of purple hair behind a long, elven ear, the woman looked down at her chest briefly. They were not small by any stretch of the imagination, as many women would probably be envious of her even in her current state. But they were small compared to her usual sizes.
Shalendris spoke with some hesitance: "I... I like... It's easier to find clothes that fit."
Talena guffawed at the obvious falsity of that statement. "You lie as well as you fight, Shalendris Oaksong."
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The two women's feet had barely touched the ground when the encampment's courier approached them. A tall, wiry elven youth of no more than twenty summers, he reached into the bag at his hip.
"Letter for Ms Oaksong," the lad spoke, handing a piece of parchment to the druidess.
Shalendris accepted the message, thanking the courier with a nod, a smile and a handful of gold coins.
Barely had the courier left that the lavender-skinned elf opened the message under the curious gaze of Talena. "Are you sure you want to be reading my messages? It could be a phallic art piece of an admirer's cock," Shalendris said with a grin. "Remember the time when that soldier from Stormwind wrote a whole novel about us?"
Talena chuckled, remembering indeed the steamy novel. It had been a solid hit with the two women.
As the piece of parchment unfolded, a single rune at the center of the message lit up and the image of a familiar woman appeared above it. A small translucent image, six or so inches tall.
Eianine.
Shalendris remembered the seamstress, having visited Suramar only a few months prior to obtain new clothing. The encounter had, to no one's surprise, ended with the pair fucking for days, with Shalendris's milk causing the Nightborne's chest to grow to titanic proportions.
Her tits were even larger now than she remembered, reaching down to her knees while being perfectly round and full.
Dearest Shalendris, the tiny image spoke up.
It is my honor to extend this invitation to you. As one of my valued customers and business partners, you are invited to the first of my bi-annual fashion shows. This personal invitation grants you access to the VIP lounge where you will get to meet some of Suramar's finest.
When you are ready to depart, place this message on the ground. See you there!
What kind of weird magic had Eianine come up with this time? Shalendris wondered, watching the image of the overly busty Shal'dorei vanish.
"Fashion shows, huh?" Talena asked, grinning at her friend. "Never pinned you as the type 'Mrs. Oaksong'."
Shaking her head at the mocking words, Shalendris closed the parchment. "There is still so much work to be done, I can't be flying off to-"
"You need a break. You've been at this for months, fighting all manner of creature."
"It's just... We've been making such good progress," argued Shalendris.
"And we won't be making any progress if you collapse from exhaustion. Go, take a few days off. You know where to find me. You always do," Talena said, offering her friend a sincere smile.
The two hugged briefly.
"Fine. You know I can never win arguments against you," Shalendris said as she bent over at the waist to place the small, folded piece of paper onto the ground.
As soon as the enchanted item made contact with the soil, its form twisted and stretched until it became a single white circle, outlined with a blue aura. Its surface shimmered and spun slowly.
Shalendris stepped into that circle, waving goodbye to her friend. As soon as Shalendris's head disappeared through the gateway, it vanished, leaving Talena alone in the small Kaldorei camp.
"She always gets up to the weirdest shit, I swear."
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The bed she landed on was covered in all manner of fine silk and luxurious pillows. Shalendris looked around the room, quickly recognizing the furnishings. She was indeed in Eianine's residence.
From the other side of the door and from the window, the night elf could hear the voices of many others who spoke various languages. Peering out that window, the Kaldorei could see that probably a hundred or so guests had gathered around the seamstress's shop, a catwalk having been built at the center of the gathering, with enough chairs to seat all those present.
Much of the surrounding bazaar had been rearranged to accommodate the event.
"I was wondering if my message reached you. The main event has just ended."
Shalendris turned slowly to greet Eianine with a smile and a polite bow. "Things seem to be going well for you," she remarked.
"Better than you can imagine. Ever since you left, business has been flourishing. I would be remiss to disregard the role you had to play in my success."
Shalendris looked down at the Shal'dorei's body, admiring for a moment how the silver, glowing tattoos across her deep purple skin ran across her skin, even running along those gigantic breasts of hers. Her chest was so large that Shalendris had to wonder how she managed to move around so gracefully, as her knees would undoubtedly be bumping constantly into the colossal masses of flesh.
"You went to all this trouble just to thank me?" the druidess asked, raising an eyebrow. "A thank you note would have been sufficient."
Eianine let slip a slight chuckle. "I've a business proposition," she quickly explained.
"I'm not much of a businesswoman. Every one of my ventures has ended in abject failure." Shalendris sat down on a nearby chair, looking up at the Shal'dorei.
"And that is why this proposition is entirely risk-free!"
"Impressive. Reminds me of the time I was recruited as a bowl seller for some gnome's shady company. Risk-free, he told me, as well. Just pay five thousand gold for this starter kit and you'll soon triple your investment! And now I've got three hundred bowls that no one wants to buy, sitting at home."
"You see these?" Eianine asked, allowing her hand to slide across the vastness of her bust. "After you left Suramar, they started... filling up. Which is why they've grown so much."
Indeed, Shalendris remembered, the elf's chest had previously only gone down to her waist. Now, even wrapped within the delicate elven fabrics, the two ponderous orbs extended past her knees.
"That tends to happen when people drink so much of my milk," Shalendris said with a soft chuckle. "It should stop in a few months... or years. You ingested quite a bit of it."
"I don't want them to go back to their old size. I like them this way... But the thing is, I thought my milk would have the same effect on others as yours did on me. That was not the case. Those I gave my milk to ended up growing a few cup sizes and the effects only lasted a few weeks at most. Nothing that could not have been achieved with a simple spell. But I think some people are starting to catch on."
Shalendris frowned for a moment. "What are you proposing?"
"In exchange for your milk, I'll donate 10% of my profits to help restore your forests in Kalimdor? I could donate directly to the Cenarion Circle or..." Eianine gave a wide smile, looking down for a moment at Shalendris's chest. "Wait, you're... smaller?"
"Your offer is quite appealing, I must admit. And yes, my chest has shrunk since the last time you saw me."
"But... how? How can we get you back to producing milk? And... does that mean you accept?" the Shal'dorei asked, obviously getting a little excited at the prospect.
