Farstorm Inn Ch 01

Prologue

"I'll be gone for a while. Farstorm Forest is somewhere between the Arathi Highlands and the HinterlaaaAHHH!" Ayma gasped as the Draenei man went down on her, his tongue working its way through her folds. Hands clutched at the blue sheets as she laid back in the bed, pleasure flooding over her as she stared up at the Exodar's crystal ceiling. Electricity shot through her spine as he worked his way past the inner folds of her pussy and into her canal.

"It will be my-Ahh!... my first solo quest and um, uh..." Damn, Kolo was way too good for being only his second time, Ayma thought.

They were in one of the many abandoned rooms in the Exodar. Rubble was scattered everywhere, not idealistic, but it allowed young Draenei like Ayma and Kolo to push boundaries in private and secrecy away from the immortal ones.

Kolo paused for a moment, looking up between Ayma's snow-white legs. "I'm sure you will be perfect at the job" then went back down and lapped up her wet cunt, his powerful purple hands keeping her shuttering legs apart.

Ayma was about to compliment him on how much he had learned since his first night, but her climax took her suddenly. Kolo looked up and grinned. He pulled back off the bed, stood up and dragged her still shaking body to the edge of the bed. Fully erect, Kolo positioned himself and angled her body upwards and took her. Kolo pumped Ayma fervently, but she couldn't synchronize with his awkward movements, and those wild sensations spasming through her body wound down quickly. Guess I still need to teach him a thing or two. Ayma stopped him gently, not wanting Kolo to feel embarrassed. She made an excuse, "I-I need to return the favor properly," as Ayma pulled him back on to the bed into a kneeling position. She went down and licked away the small stream of precum flowing down his long member. Kolo groaned as she worked on the head, moving her way in slowly, bringing more and more of his great length into her mouth.

He grabbed her horns, giving Ayma a questioning look.

He likes my horns! Ayma thought, giddy, trying to nod while still sucking him off.

Her excitement turned to shock when he used them as handles to pull her further in, his member reaching the back of her throat. Kolo pulled her back out to his tip, giving her a moment to gasp in surprise, before shoving her back down more forcefully, bringing her further down his enourmas cock. I think I just gave him permission instead of just thanking him, Ayma realized. She had deep-throated before but none of the other men had ever used her horns like this, taking that control away from her.

Ayma loved it.

She focused solely on her breathing as he brought her down his span again and again, all while increasing his pace. He was bringing her deep enough that her chin started hitting into his hot sack. The air filled with her lewd gagging as she tried to keep up with his almost desperate yanking on her horns. "Gllkkck," "Glmmk," "Gluckk!"

A few more hard thrusts. Then, as her nose pressed against his lower abs, he held her fast, not letting her up. His hard member was thick in her throat as Ayma fought her gag reflex as quietly as she could. She could feel his climax coming and tried to back off but couldn't do anything as his powerful grip on her horns kept her in place. At the last moment he shoved her off himself right as his climax hit and layered ropes of cum on her face. Kolo breathed out in ecstasy as he painted her face with a few more spurts. He then rubbed the remaining dribbles on her forehead, finishing his masterpiece.

Exhausted, they both collapsed on to the bed together. Kolo wrapped Ayma into his powerful arms. "How was that?" he asked.

Some work to be done here and there... "Perfect, you'll be a master in no time. You'll be getting all the ladies wet with just a touch!" Ayma giggled.

Kolo looked mortified, his conservative Draenei sensibilities kicking in. The ones that had lived before Draenor blamed Azeroth's influence. She had her own standards as well, but like most other young Draenei, those boundaries were pushed. For Kolo, it took a few whispers and promises. For her, it started with her childhood sweetheart, the night after her birthday, marking her a woman both in age and spirit two years before. Monad... He was gone now.

Ayma pushed away those gloomy thoughts, got up, and entered the bathroom tucked away in a small, secluded alcove. There was more shattered crystalsheet and snapped support bars strewn about in there than in the main room, but like the bed, the bath itself was cleared of those things and functional.

"Leaving? You'll be gone weeks, maybe months. Whatever will I do now?" Kolo shouted from the bedroom.

Ayma shouted back cheerily. "You don't have to stay with one woman. There are plenty of cute girls in the Exodar." Kolo stammered out something unintelligible in response.

She stepped in before the tub finished filling and started right away with her face--taking extra care with her horns. Kolo had offered to join her in the bath, but he would have just distracted her. Ayma needed to leave quickly and catch the boat on time. She quickly toweled off, threw on an undershirt, then went back to the main room and had Kolo help her with her gold priestly robes inlaid with purple. With the essentials already packed she slung her travelling pack and took off for the harbor.

--

At the entrance of the Exodar, Kolo caught up with her.

Panting, he passed her a small piece of inscription parchment, "My own work, it's a fortifier scroll. It will bring you strength if things...take a turn for the worse." Ayma slipped the parchment into a hidden compartment in her sleeve, but not before grabbing Kolo and pulling him down for a farewell kiss. A simple lover's kiss, full of affection rather than that wild sensual abandon from earlier.

Ayma set off on her journey to Farstorm Forest.

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Chapter 1

It was not easy for Ayma to be discreet when Azeroth's inhabitants hyper focused on her double curved horns, slender hooves, and white skin. She thought she could blend in quietly as the inn was not only packed with humans, but nearly as many Dwarves, a good number of Gnomes, and a few night elves but she, of the Exodar was the alien among this diverse crowd.

It had been nearly a month since she had left the Exodar. The boat trip took up half of it, and the caravans, outriders, and sometimes lonesome hikes had taken up the other half as she finally found a great, dark green forest within a massive caldera that rested between the Arathi Highlands and Hinterlands. It was said to be Un'guoro's northern cousin, and far colder.

Farstorm Inn rested on an open meadow between the sloped cliffs and the forest as Ayma entered to a roaring, hearty crowd.

But the moment she entered, many stared at her openly, conversations dying down. Ayma wanted nothing more to get out of the cold rain and her soaking wet priest robes and find a bed for the night. The way the men and even the women stared at Ayma seemed like they wanted her out of those gold and purple robes as well.

Many whispers flooded across the room 'Is that an Angel?' 'She's godlike.' 'More beautiful than they say.' 'I thought Draenei had bigger tits' -- 'Well she's kinda short for a Draenei anyway...' --'oi dwarves got them racks anyway and they short.' 'I feel like I can slay demons if she's around.' 'Look at those horns!' Ayma blushed at one of the comments.

Thankfully, the staring returned to loud shouting and blustering as the patrons returned to their ale and food, many still couldn't help but steal looks at her though as she approached the human innkeeper who sported a stained shirt that was way too small for his potbelly.

"Ello da'ling! Welcome to the Farstorm Inn. The names Stowney. What can I do for you?" The innkeeper said in another one of those strange human accents. Of all the races of Azeroth, the humans were the most perplexing to Ayma. The sheer amount of variety and qualities in them ranged from embracing the light of the Draenei or the logic of the Gnomes yet they also could just as easily feed off their emotions like the vilest of Orcs or indulge in twisted schemes of the Goblins.

However, the innkeeper understood the universal language of money as a few silver coins were quietly placed in front of him as she asked for a room for the night and a warm bath to be drawn.

"It's a busy night, so just like your height, you're a bit short!" Ayma nearly rolled her eyes at the little jab as he calculated a new price for her. Ayma was 6'4", taller than Stowney who himself average for a human. Other Draenei and Night Elves would have towered over the man. She couldn't help but glance over at one of long-limbed Night Elf women who was currently teasing a drunken dwarf by slipping a hand down his trousers, laughing as she would snatch her hand away before the dwarf could grab hold and keep the hand in place.

Ayma also noticed a quiet figure tucked in a dark corner. His black and purple cloaked covered most of his body but muddy boots were planted firmly on the wooden floor and those shadowed eyes stared at her intensely from under that hood—a different stare from the other patrons, not lustful or curious, but something else. A chill went up her spine as she looked away. Different types of humans indeed.

The innkeeper brought her attention away from the Night Elf and cloaked Human as he clipped off the features the Inn offered, which honestly sounded great. "We've got rooms of all sizes for our assorted crowd. From the scrawniest Gnome to the Night Elves." He scruntched up his face. "Don't think Farstorm Inn has had Draenei grace its halls in the past, but ill put you in one of them Night Elf or Troll rooms, nothing too big like a Tauren but not too small. I've gotcha in Room 19, it's at the end and connected to a bathing room with 3 other rooms, but the doors have been magicked so only one can access the bathhouse at a time."

He added an extra silver and a few copper coins to the total price for use of that bathroom, expensive but not unfair. He glanced across the hall. "I'll show you real quick your room and give you a quick tour da'ling."

He hobbled around the counter and she followed him up a flight of stairs. The noise from the main floor quickly died down as he confidently led her down a hallway. "17...18...ah here we go, 19!"

He opened the door marked 19 as a woman's voice came shouting out from within, "Yes! Yes! Give it to--oh by the light!" head down in the bed, ass straight up as a Night Elf man pumped the human furiously from behind. The naked Night Elf saw a shocked Ayma and furious Stowney first and yelped, embarrassed and rolled away to the side of the bed, grabbing for clothes. Face still down, the woman yelled. "Hey why'd you pull out?" she looked up, "...oh, hello there!" The human settled down into the bed then pushed up with her hands, showing an impressive large rack as she popped a smile, not at all embarrassed.

Stowney was having none of it. "What the hell are you doing in here Isabelle? Get the fuck out of this room!"

Isabelle scrunched up her face, "erm...this is my room," still in that luscious pose.

"Room 29 is down the other hallway!"

It started to dawn on Isabelle that she might have made a mistake. "And I'm in..."

"ROOM 19!!" Stowney shouted, red faced.

By that time, the Night Elf had pulled his pants on, slung his shirt and shoes over his shoulder and mumbled an apology on his way out. Ayma didn't really know how to respond and Stowney was too busy yelling at Isabelle to get out.

Isabelle thankfully decided to get off the bed. She stood up and struck a pose, her crimson red hair tumbled down past her massive rack, her hands balled up in fists on her hips. She was short for a human, with a sheen of sweat giving her powerfully built body with abs a shine as a trickle of fluids ran down her compact legs. Ayma had heard stories that humans and a few other races had hair in strange places, but Isabelle's nether regions were shaved, a common practice, she had also heard. "Like what you see?" Isabelle grinned.

"Yes...no, get out!" Stowney shouted, red faced. The Night Elf was already out of site.

"I was talking to the goat girl"

...Goat girl? Ayma realized she was staring and looked away, feeling as embarrassed.

"Aww how cute, she's shy." Isabelle finally walked through, still completely naked and confident. Stowney grabbed a fistful of her ample breast as she passed, they both shared a smirk and snicker with each other, then Stowney slapped Isabelle's firm ass to motivate her to keep moving. Isabelle left but not before whispering to Ayma "Hey goat lady, I bet you have thousands of years of experience, but if you want to be truly daring and try something different, you know where to find me!" and walked off, completely naked and uncaring. Isabelle's clothes were nowhere to be seen inside the room.

Stowney wondered out loud how old Ayma was. She just stared into the room, face passive, not telling him she had twenty years under her name.

His smile faltered, then he decided to keep things moving.

They entered room 19. Ayma wanted to get out of her wet robes and finally rest. Stowney didn't seem to notice her discomfort and continued the tour. It was a simple room, with a rumpled bed, a nightstand, a mirror, a second door to the bathhouse, and a window overlooking a gloomy forest in the night. The Light from the inn barely scratched the surface, the deeper Ayma looked, the more ominous the dark forest felt. "Least they didn't make much of a mess." Stowney laughed to himself. Ayma just thought he was trying to make an excuse not to deal with the fact that there was a couple getting it down on that bed.

Stowney brought her to the second door--the one that led to the bathroom--and explained the magic words to open the door. "If it doesn't open, either you said it wrong, or someone's in there already."

Her hooves clacked loudly on the tiled floor as he directed her to the massive square basin the middle of the floor, filled with many steppes and curves within it for what she assumed different sitting and laying positions for the different kinds of occupants that frequented the Inn...let alone the basin was large enough to host several of them at once. All in all, it was an impressive feature.

Three other wooden doors lined the bathroom as Stowney showed Ayma the cabinet that was made with those same white tiles next to the basin, a closet filled with towels and robes, a massive wall to wall mirror covering a side of the bathhouse. Stowney explained, "It's err...to let people see themselves. Just make sure you activate this switch, and our gnomish technology will drain and refill the tub for you within moments." He continued showing the other gears. "This switch controls heat. This one pumps air beneath and creates bubbles—you'll love that I bet." And the last, "This activates the fan if you want some ambient noise and clear the air of steam a little.

He slid open a panel to a large closet full of white, fuzzy robes and towels. "Here's towels and robes for all sizes in here courtesy of our local tailors!" Then gave her a fake stern look. "No stealing. If you want some, go to the tailors. Oh, you ought'a check this out!" He showed her to a rack of Night Elf made dispensers. "Shampoo, conditioner, soap, cologne, and perfume," he pointed out each colorful, leaf engraved dispenser.

"And this?" Ayma asked to a few smaller, intricately designed dispensers in the corner.

"Ah, never mind those da'ling. They don't fit your prim lifestyle--I would think. If yer curious, just remember! Smell it, don't spill or drink," Stowney said simply. He then told her he had to get back to the front before she could inquire about his cryptic advice. He left but not before shouting over his shoulder what the time was for the morning breakfast bell.

Ayma was left alone.

Prim Lifestyle, she snorted. Ayma would be considered quite daring by Draenei standards. She had lost her virginity to her boy sweetheart when their curiosity had turned into a deep desire. Later Ayma quietly and boldly pursued interests with other young, daring Draenei. The immortal ones were very conservative and were slow to adapt to Azeroth's lifestyle. Her mother would have been mortified if she found out. Ayma's father was long dead.

She returned to her room and locked the door to the hallway, then dropped her small traveling pack on the nightstand.

Time to get out of these clothes, Ayma thought. She pulled Kolo's scroll and placed it on her nightstand. Ayma tugged at a few hidden ties hidden with the folds of her robes, letting them tumble to her hooves.

She entered the bathhouse and flicked on the gears for hot water. Water blasted into the basin, the mirror fogged, leaving a blurry white figure near the center as the bathhouse quickly filled with hot steam. She pulled off her undershirt and quickly stripped off her underwear, sighing in relief as her cold, clammy skin breathed in the hot steam. By the Naaru, she loved Gnomish plumbing!

As Ayma waited for the basin to fill, she couldn't help but check out her figure in the massive wall to wall mirror. Ayma was slender as the priestly ways gave little time, nor the need to form the large muscles like her warrior or paladin counterparts required, excusing her to pursue a more feminine, athletic build. She took out the pins in her blue hair, letting the straight locks tumble down on her snow-white skin, reaching to her shoulders and collarbone. Ayma wished her breasts were larger, to be like other Draenei women--or that human Isabelle. But at least they were firm and did not sag and were also complemented by small, perky, dark blue nipples.

The tub had filled completely, and Ayma flicked off the gears with a hoof. She slowly eased into the hot water, situating herself in one of the many inner curves, the scalding water coming up to her neck, relaxing for a while in the quiet room before exploring the floor cabinet next to her and quickly went through the surprisingly excellent choices in shampoos, conditioners, and soaps. Her earlier frustrations with the inn's pricing evaporated as she lathered herself up, absorbing the scented perfumes. She made sure to scrub her horns vigorously and was pleasantly surprised they had a hardened shaping stone for her hooves.

Ayma flicked the switch for the bubbles. Nothing happened for a moment, then a rumbling, then sudden blasts of airs from many previously unseen tubes hit into her. Ayma yelped, thrashing in the tub and stood up, water cascading from her slick skin. She took a moment to look at the churning water beneath her, water churning beneath her thighs and noticed the small ring surrounding each tube, and when she twisted one of the rings, the jet stream lowered. She lowered the output on most jets, especially the one that had blasted her sacred place and settled down. She had never experienced this kind of bathing before, where pressurized air caressed and messaged her body. Gnomish plumbing indeed! The Draenei could learn a thing or two to augment their crystal tech, she thought, as she slowly raised the pressure on most of the water jets again, leaving out the one slowly bubbling up on her thighs and tail.

Ayma looked over those small, intricately made containers that the bathhouse offered. She could see no names or identifiers as she picked one up, closely examining the Night Elf handiwork of carved leaves and wolves. Not for your prim lifestyle, she faintly recalled the innkeeper telling her. She popped the hinge, looking inside and seeing a purplish green liquid. "Smell, don't spill", the innkeeper had said. She sniffed; the scents felt unfamiliar yet inviting. Nothing changed. She tried another small flask with butterflies and flowers, the liquid more like a melted gold. Another sniff. She sighed, putting both flasks back into their original spots in the cupboard, not bothering with the rest.