A request featuring Maiev, Tyrande, and a tauren from Warcraft.
***
It wasn't much of a fight. We tracked them for hours, watching and surveying, and when the time was right, we struck. Vile and barbaric as they are, the Horde are not suited for forest combat. Nor, in my experience, any combat, but this is even more apparent within Ashenvale, where their burly forms and superstitious natures work against themselves. After ascertaining their numbers, capabilities, and likelihood of reinforcements, we lured them to a predetermined destination with the help of wisps and skilled scouts of our own. Once they arrived at the ambush site, they stood no chance against us.
A single volley of well-aimed arrows cut them down, the release of nightsabers scared even the bloodthirsty orcs, and a treetop ambush from above ensured their swift and justly deserved demise. Within only a minute or so, perhaps two for a conservative estimate, twenty-one orcs, tauren, and trolls lay slain upon the forest floor. There was only one survivor that remained, and he was taken prisoner without much resistance.
After tending to our wounded (a list of each member and their condition is listed upon the back of this document) we searched their corpses and found little of worth besides armor and weapons. Recommend melting down and repurposing all of it save for whatever may be used by our worgen allies.
Sentinels Melyria and Shyela Frostshadow are keeping watch over the corpses in the case of a Horde search and rescue party, and will be replaced with Sentinels Thenysil and Avana before daybreak. The prisoner is a young tauren male. Uncooperative. Unwilling to divulge any information besides his name (Rohak). Approximately eight feet tall, four-hundred pounds. Brown fur. No distinguishing characteristics. Further interrogation required.
Dictated by Warden Maiev Shadowsong and transcribed by Kathrena Winterwisp.
"No casualties?" Tyrande asked, flipping over the parchment and inspecting the backside.
"No," Maiev said, and a smirk crossed her face. "None on our side."
"Good." The High Priestess paused. "Although it does seem as though they grow bolder, despite your many successes."
"I won't claim to understand the minds of beasts, but perhaps they seek a war of attrition."
"Perhaps." Tyrande contemplated for a moment, nodded, and then stood up. "Thank you for the report, Maiev. I'd say you should take some time to relax, but we both know you wouldn't listen." She waved a dismissive hand. "Feel free to do whatever you wish with the prisoner."
Maiev turned and made her way out of Tyrande's quarters. She felt good. She always did after a successful battle, but there was something else other than joy, excitement, and leftover adrenaline flowing through her. Fighting was how she got her kicks--most of the time--but occasionally she got an itch that could be scratched by one thing and one thing only: fucking. Of course the issue with this was the lack of available men; the Sentinels were exclusively female, and so finding a satisfactory partner wasn't easy.
As she walked to the building in which the prisoner was being held, she contemplated things further. She had chosen to exclude in her report the size of the tauren. Not his height or weight, but rather the one prominent feature he had hanging between his thighs like a third leg. The beast wore nothing but a scrap of cloth that was so flimsy it could barely even be called a loincloth, and while she had seen tauren appendages before, this one was different. Not only was it larger than normal, but she felt an intense hunger for it. A pull, or, more disturbingly, an attraction.
Naturally this was due to her recent state of mind, her hunger for cock, but the fact that she was having indecent thoughts towards a tauren annoyed her greatly. They were a race only slightly better than orcs and trolls, fully capable of the same brutality the greenskins were known for. Lusting after one was unthinkable, no matter how impressive his manhood.
Although it certainly couldn't hurt,
she thought.
Even if he is the enemy, he'll likely be dead by tomorrow anyway.
Upon arriving at the prisoner's quarters, the guard standing watch saluted her. "Take a break," Maiev ordered. "Half an hour."
Once the guard was dismissed, she stepped inside, her boots echoing upon the stone floor of the prison. The tauren's cell was small, or rather, he made it look small given his enormous frame. If she had to guess, she'd estimate that he was slightly larger than the average member of his race. He was sitting with his back to the wall, and when she entered he glanced at her only briefly before turning his attention back to the floor of his cell.
"Come to your senses yet or are you still playing the part of a stubborn fool?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips and eyeing him through the slits of her helmet.
"My name is Rohak."
"Fine." She shrugged and unclasped her cloak, tossing it onto a nearby table.
Maiev spent half an hour grilling him to absolutely no success whatsoever. She'd learned nothing other than the fact that his manhood had a head like a fist, and it liked to peek out of his loincloth whenever he shifted in his seat. Even under threat of death or bodily harm the tauren didn't speak a single word. She wasn't surprised. Savage though the Horde may be, they were also fanatical, willing to die for their cause. It would have been admirable if not for the specific cause that they served.
Sighing, Maiev stood up and made her way towards the exit. Rohak, whose name by this point had been drilled into her head after constant repetition, was useless to them. If he wasn't willing to speak, there was no point in keeping him alive, and as such she had little choice but to recommend execution. Tyrande needed to be informed before that was carried out.
Stopping herself at the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder and caught the tauren looking straight at her. Strangely, his eyes were lowered, and she came to the shocking realization that he was staring at her ass.
Sure she'd checked him out before, but she hadn't expected him to do the same to her. And although she wore a heavy ensemble of plate armor, the cheeks of her ass were clad in little else but a tight pair of leather pants, stretched taut over her impressive rump.
Without her cloak her ass was in full view, large and round, jutting out obscenely, and clearly carrying more than enough meat to catch the attention of a tauren. All of her exercising, combined with good genetics, had sculpted Maiev into a superb example of the female form. She was a large woman, tall and muscular, thick where it counted, with hard abs and a slim waist that flared out into a wide pair of grippable hips. When she trained she trained to fight, but in the process of tempering herself for war she had developed a body simultaneously built for fucking. Moreover, it was obvious that the tauren agreed. Not only had she caught his eye, but she could see his cock stirring and shifting beneath his loincloth like a monster awakening from slumber.
Blinking away her surprise, Maiev exited the jail just as the guard from earlier returned. Exchanging a nod with the woman, she made her way back to Tyrande's quarters, still shocked over the fact that an oversized bull had been leering at her ass. Ridiculous thoughts raced through her mind, and that itch from earlier returned, more demanding than ever.
Maiev was so taken aback that she didn't bother knocking on Tyrande's door, and when she opened it she was greeted by her second surprise of the day.
Lying upon a short table was Tyrande, face down and glowing with oil as two goblins, one male and one female, rubbed and kneaded her muscles. She was utterly naked, and as Maiev watched, the goblins' hands roamed over the High Priestess' body, squeezing at her breasts, massaging the cheeks of her ass, and dipping between the cleft of her thighs.
A massage? By goblins? While nude?
Maiev shook her head, clearing her thoughts. What the hell did she know about massages? And other than these two goblins there probably wasn't a living soul within three days' ride that could do the job they were doing. It was odd, but not entirely irrational.
"Your Grace," she said, startling the goblins and drawing their attention.
"Yes?" Tyrande purred, not bothering to roll over or get up.
"The prisoner remains uncooperative." Her eyes darted back and forth between the goblins and a number of pink vials of oil situated upon a separate table. "I see no reason to keep him alive, and recommend execution."
"I recommend showing off this ass more often," the female goblin said, giving Tyrande a light slap on her behind. It jiggled slightly, and her greedy green hands slipped between the valley of Tyrande's bubbly cheeks. "Would you like a massage next?" she asked, looking at Maiev with a look that unsettled her.
The male goblin slapped the female goblin over the head, but before Maiev could question the two Tyrande spoke again.
"You said he was a tauren?" she asked as if nothing had happened.
"...Correct."
"I see." She pondered things for a moment before standing up. "Let's try one last time to convince him then, shall we? They tend to be more receptive than orcs."
"I don't believe he can be convinced to speak... but I will help you if you wish to try convincing him again."
After retrieving a big bag that looked like a bush with handles and throwing on a diaphanous gown that was far from decent, Tyrande left the goblins and lead Maiev back to the jail. Dismissing the guard once again, they strolled leisurely into the damp building, down a flight of stairs, and into the prisoner holding room where Rohak resided.
He was lying upon his bed when they entered, and stirred from what had likely been a light slumber upon hearing their footsteps.
"Greetings, tauren." Tyrande stepped up close to the bars of his cell while Maiev sat down on the table and watched, expecting nothing less than a one-sided conversation. Some prisoners were too stubborn and fanatical to talk, and in her opinion it wasn't worth the time and effort futilely butting heads with bull-headed prisoners. But she didn't mind humoring the High Priestess' desire for a peaceful and more lucrative outcome.