Prologue -- A host to be repaid
"That concludes my report, High King Anduin," Genn Greymane announced and sat back into his seat on the wooden table that had hastily brought there a few days ago, and had since not moved an inch. Piles of documents were steadily added and just as little as the young king had and Genn threw his report on there in a dismissive fashion.
In the past, the exiled king Greymane would have been more orderly in his approach to documents, but since awakening to the Worgen curse he had grown more rash in many of his decision. The curse brought with it some blessings as well, despite his silver hair and beard he was full of vitality and vigour. Not just in his daily life or battle, something that his wife could attest to. She had needed...assistance in the bedroom to please her husband's desires ever since then.
"We have no food to feed them, no room to house nor anything else they might desire," High King Anduin answered what he had just heard. "Damn that banshee, her and her warmongering, honourless ways."
Indeed, this all was Sylvanas' fault, something that Genn had warned off numerous times and he was certain didn't need repetition. It wouldn't have helped the current predicament anyway.
The 'they' talked about were the night elves, a whole people pushed out of their homes in Ashenvale, Darkshore and most important of all the world tree of Teldrassil. Conquered by the Horde or burned in an effort by Sylvanas to bait them into her blighted trap in the battle of Undercity, all of these places were now devoid of their natural inhabitants.
'Poor boy,' Genn thought as he looked at Anduin, who he had come to see as a foster son, 'He grows up in times of burden.' The young king had turned eighteen at the climax of the Argus campaign. A demonic sword the size of Azeroth's moon rammed into Silithus was the worst present Genn could think off, with the Horde, in their endless bloodthirst and greed, adding insult to injury when this new resource, Azerite, had been discovered. To grant this one thing to the Horde, it was powerful enough a resource to start a war over.
Despite the stress and the battles he had been through since, Anduin looked as good as ever. Blessed with thick, platinum blonde hair and a face not even a charming painting would be able to capture, he would have no trouble chasing himself a nice lady. 'Which is what he should be doing instead of having to plan a war after we just beat the Burning Legion,' Greymane thought, clenching his fists underneath the table. Hopefully none of the few guards around noticed and drew some weird conclusions. 'He should be getting his dick wet in some nice lady, or better yet gather some experience with someone older and an incredible body.'
"I hear your problems, king Anduin," the melodic voice shocked him the same as always. Tyrande Whisperwind was as silent as the cats she rode into battle, when she so desired. Her white dress reached down to her knees, magical runes glowing on it, and was flowing through the air with every graceful step she took. She had removed the silver artefacts, more works of arts than armour, that she usually wore on top, except for the diadem in her wild, turquoise mane that branded her as the High Priestess of Elune.
If there was a person who deserved to be the definition of 'incredible body' Tyrande would have been that as the stand-in of the whole night elven race. All of the things that made females of her people outstanding, she combined. She was tall, her purple skin was without blemish, her athletic body was toned to that level where she was obviously not weak but she didn't appear to be a mountain of muscles, her high cheekbones were swung as elegantly as her deep purple lips, curved into a smile as her silver glowing eyes looked at the two of them.
"Leave us alone," she said towards the guards, in a voice that was friendly but wasn't confronted with disobedience all too often. Nevertheless, it took a nod from Anduin for them to distance themselves, closing the gates behind them. Genn noticed that the young king was having trouble keeping his eyes on Tyrande's face. He couldn't blame him.
That dress she wore left little to the imagination. Her breasts, somewhat above average size, were hidden beneath only two lines of fabric. Around her stomach it was wrapped tight, showing off her figure perfectly curving into her wide hips. The ass that must have belonged to those hips, he had seen it before in the midst of battle. It was toned, full and juicy enough that Genn caught himself hatching a plan to attempt to get one of those night elfs into his bed tonight.
"I hear your mages work day and night to provide enough water for my people, you have my deepest gratitude," her voice was as sexy as the rest of her. "I have sent many of my people out to Westfall, the druids are to help grow the crops while the rest is to help gather them."
"That is of great relief," Anduin relaxed in his chair, that information couldn't come soon enough. "Do you have any idea when this will show first results?"
"Not soon enough for us to forego rationing for a while, High King," Tyrande bowed her head, "my apologies." Genn had a very good idea how she could apologize to the two of them right now, bend over this table. "That is why I have come with a proposal," she came even closer, "to quell unrest in your people..." Genn wanted to rip that dress of her.
'What terrible things to think about the women who saved us from the curse,' he scolded himself. Then his dreams became a reality.
"...my people are going to serve the citizens of Stormwind in whatever fleshly desire they are going to have," she reached behind her neck as the two men, young and old, were too stunned to stunned to answer. The question whether she was serious or not became moot when her dress fell to the floor at the flick of a knot, just a pile of silk on the floor.
One couldn't tell if she was supposed to be a day older than thirty. Her body was as perfect underneath her dress as the rest of her had let to believe. Dark purple nipples crowned her breasts, sagging just that little bit to the laws of gravity, and trimmed pubes decorated her attractive pussy. She stood there proud and willing. "Of course, I will lead by example."
Anduin gulped, his virgin heart was having a heart time taking this. However, he was ever the honourable lad, "I cannot ask this of you or your people. Neither do I think your husband would approve if he heard of this."
"Nonsense," Tyrande, swinging her hips in a sultry way, made her way around the table and to the throne. "We are honoured to repay our most gracious hosts. Those on their way to Westfall already agreed to this. As for Malfurion, you think I was chaste in the ten-thousand years he dreamt away?" She arrived at the throne, the young king wasn't quite sure where to look.
From his position down the stairs, Genn could see the wetness spreading from Tyrande's pussy. She obviously wasn't being forced to do this by anyone. If he went with her free will, that wouldn't be immoral of him, right? He cleared his throat, "My king, it sounds like she thought deeply about this proposal."
"That I did," her sensual whisper echoed in the empty throne room. One of her hands travelled to her crotch and spread the inviting lips. They had the colour of ripe blackberries, Genn wondered if it would taste like it as well, "Just look how ready I am for you, High King. The night elves won't be ungrateful guests. Feel free to proclaim each and every one of us as public property...within certain limitations, of course."
Genn's hard dick jumped at that idea. "My king!" he said those two words as insistent as was possible. Anduin couldn't find the words to answer.
