Kelethia sighed and rubbed her eyes. She had been reading for nearly an hour, but it felt much longer than that. The tome in front of her had been a gift from Sister Anetta. "Study it well," she had said, "for it contains important lessons you will need to learn if you are to become a priestess." Kelethia had started reading it right away, for her greatest dream was to become a priestess. Ever since coming to the abbey three years ago, after her parents died during a Horde raid on Southshore, she had been in awe of the men and women who worked at the Abbey. They had miraculous powers, and everyone admired them. Kelethia wanted to be powerful and admired, too - and when she turned twenty-one next month, she intended to be ready to join the priesthood.
But this text was as dull and dry as anything she had ever read. To make things worse, the room was unbearably hot and stuffy. There weren't enough windows in the abbey to stave off the heat of midsummer. She longed to take off her robe, but the sisters would never allow that. "It is not proper to reveal flesh," they said, "for it may distract people away from spiritual enlightenment." Kelethia didn't feel very enlightened, though, sweltering and perspiring under her thick garments.
Perhaps a walk outside would help. Kelethia closed her book and left the room, slipping deftly through the corridors of the abbey to avoid being spotted by Sister Anetta or anyone else who might frown upon her for shirking her studies. She felt better the moment she left the Abbbey, as a welcome breeze swept through her wavy blonde hair. She strolled off into the woods, clearing her mind of dreary books and smothering rules.
The forest was quiet; the lumberjacks had no doubt gone down to Goldshire for their mid-day meal. Kelethia listened to the pleasant chirping of birds and insects, and smiled to herself as she drifted through the trees. It felt as though the world was at peace, until she heard a strange sound from the woods up ahead.
Kelethia froze. It sounded as though a woman was moaning in pain! Should she run back to the abbey for help? That would take time. Besides, if she was going to become a mighty priestess, she had to learn how to help others on her own, and this might be an opportunity for her to prove herself. With that thought in mind, she marched determinedly toward the trees.
There was something odd about the woman's cries; they were steady, almost rhythmic. In treating the sick and the injured, Kelethia had heard all sorts of sounds that people make when they're in pain, and this didn't sound like any of them. And soon she knew why.
Peeking around the trunk of a mighty oak, she saw a small meadow filled with sunlight, where a dark-haired woman lay on her back. She wore no clothing, nor did the man who lay on top of her. He was moving his hips against her, and Kelethia caught her first glimpse of what lies between a man's legs. It was a thick, rigid shaft, sliding in and out of the woman's underside, making her moan in what Kelethia now understood to be pleasure rather than pain. Her breath caught in her throat; she had never seen anything like this. She stood there, transfixed, watching as the man plunged his hard flesh into the woman, making her gasp and groan.
With a start, she realized that the woman was Drusilla LaSalle, a herbalist who lived in a small cottage at the edge of Northshire Valley. Some of the sisters at the abbey had warned Kelethia to stay away from that cottage, claiming it was haunted by the spirit of a witch who could summon demonic spirits to do her bidding. Kelethia had never believed those rumors, though, because she had seen Drusilla many times during the past few years, providing herbal remedies to convalescing soldiers - hardly the actions of an evil ghost witch. Kelethia suspected that her gossiping sisters were actually jealous of Drusilla's long dark hair and voluptuous body, and the stares that she attracted from the men she tended. What would they think if they saw her now, sprawled out on the forest floor, moaning deliriously? Kelethia knew that the man on top of her was one of the lumberjacks; she had seen him before, but didn't know his name. He was young and muscular, and his face had a rough, almost savage look as he eagerly plowed his way inside her.
