Chronicles of Lazdormu(IC closed for Sinister Spiders)

Prince Arthas Menethil

Her words were music to his ears, after a deep breath latched his mouth around hers, pulled back to the tip and drove through. She whimpered in pain as he tore through, he distracted her with his kiss and held himself within her deeply.

After a short time he pulled his lips back to look directly into her eyes.

"Are you okay?" He whispered.
 
Lady Jaina Proudmoore

"Ah!" Jaina cried out as Arthas broke through her barrier. Her world was tinged red and her body tensed as the pain within her womanhood shot throughout her entire body.

Thankfully Arthas remained still, buried deep within her. It was a fullness unlike any other she had felt and it was more intimate than she could ever have imagined. His words floated over her like a balm and she made a conscious effort to relax her limbs. Her entrance was still stinging and raw but she smiled at him and gave him a soft peck on the lips.

"Better than okay," she whispered; and despite the pain it was true.

When Jaina concentrated on the part where their bodies were joined, she felt her sensitive pearl throbbing between them. Focusing on that and putting the pain at the back of her mind, she resumed their passionate kiss.
 
Prince Arthas Menethil

Arthas waited a moment longer before moving again. He pulled out very slowly keeping a close watch on her body language. Any time she winced he stopped and waited a short time. It wasn't too long before he was moving at a much more even pace, even though she was still very tight he could tell by her moans that it was becoming much more pleasurable.
 
Lady Jaina Proudmoore

Jaina would have been lying if she said that the pain had gone away. It had merely become more tolerable. Her entrance was stinging and each stroke agitated it a little more. However, that was thankfully the only uncomfortable part. With Arthas' member settled inside her channel a primal part of her had been awoken. When he was fully sheathed his pelvis pressed against her clit and that pressure was enough for the pleasure to overwhelm the pain. Without meaning to Jaina's rhythmic pleasure turned into an erotic strain of moans. Arthas' restrained grunts where hot in her ear and his body was a reassuring and secure weight against her.

It wasn't long before their bodies synchronised and all Jaina could comprehend was the here and now, the thrusts and the moans. Her arms roamed up and down Arthas' back as her lips explored his face, neck and shoulders.

Unexpectedly Jaina felt the now familiar build of pleasure. Her hips squirmed and she wondered if the disjointed sensations would build up further. She certainly hoped so; she never knew that sex would feel so good.
 
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Prince Arthas Menethil

The haze of lust fogged his mind more and more and it was becoming difficult to maintain control over his release. Her movements and moans of pleasure egged him on and his pace and force increased as as a result. He just managed to pulled away from their kiss to breathe three more words.

"I love you."

With a few more powerful strokes he toppled himself over the edge. The seeds of life rushed into her sacred temple and each pulse seemed to build upon the one before. Even though the muscles in his thighs had seized up due to the extra strain his member continued to donate more of the life giving fluids.

When there was no more to give simply remained inside her and kept his arms around her.
 
Lady Jaina Proudmoore

Jaina's entire body flushed with a different type of pressure as Arthas professed his love for her. It seemed then that he was a man possessed; his thrusts became so hard that Jaina cried out in shock, and his grunts bodering on guttural, as he spilled his seed deep inside her body.

When Arthas was done he didn't roll off her. He waited, holding her in his arms as his heavy breathing slowly returned to normal. Arthas didn't pull out of Jaina until he had completely softened, and both of their eyelids had turned heavy.

Exactly when they fell asleep Jaina couldn't tell, but when she drifted off it was with a sense of complete contentment and relaxation.

~*~

The next few days in Silvermoon passed with some obligatory diplomacy and sight seeing. Arthas was consequently much more attentive to Jaina, more than happy to escort her on her outings, but the two were necessarily discreet in their behaviour. Kael'thas had also been exceptionally polite to Jaina, but after the evening of flirting he seemed to withdraw from her emotionally. Thankfully Arthas' affection reduced the pain of Kael'thas' coolness, otherwise Jaina would have felt quite let down.

It was on their last day in Silvermoon City that Arthas proposed a wonderful idea to Jaina. An engagement. Now that Arthas no longer needed to marry the Elven princess, he was free to follow his heart. Arthas had then added that Jaina was his heart. Despite the unforseen turn in their relationship Jaina gladly accepted. Now that they had turned from friends to lovers it only felt natural, she wondered that they had not been this way all along.

The trip back on the boat had been of mixed success. There had not been another Orc ship, but Arthas had once again been green in the face for much of the trip, and that made him terribly grumpy. Nevertheless he managed to find his way to Jaina's cabin in the deep of night, and they were free to express their newly professed lust for each other provided that they were quiet enough to hide their relationship from the crew.

Jaina and Arthas parted ways on the docks of Stormwind. It had been difficult for them to remain within the bounds of propriety, with nothing more than a pat on the shoulder as fare well. Arthas intended to return to his father and tell the King of his intention to marry Jaina. Arthas would then send word to Jaina and they could start making official plans. The part that pleased Jaina the most, apart from marrying Arthas, would be that they both agreed to pursue their studies despite their marriage. Arthas had no intention of putting a halt on her training, and she would never dream of holding him back.

~*~

Dearest Jaina,

It is with deep regret and anger that I write to you today. As soon as I arrived in Lorderon I requested a private counsel with my father. I eagerly told him of our betrothal, only to be met with avid refusal.

Your father, he believes, sent you along to Silvermoon City to purposely sabotage the diplomatic marriage to the Elves. I tried to tell him multiple times that King Anasterian did not think the match suitable, but was still of the mind to continue the alliance.

My father would not relent. He has refused to give his blessing for our union, and without it I can not legitimately wed you. He has decided that I am to be wed to someone else instead, their name I care not to learn. However, for me to wed, he required my consent in addition to his blessing. That, I'm pleased to say, he will never have.

He may not give us permission to wed, but my heart belongs to you. He is a stubborn man, but I know our love will out last this.

I am truly sorry, this was an outcome I could not have predicted. Please wait patiently Jaina, we will have our wedding soon, and in the mean time I will endeavour to see you as often as I can; I already miss your kiss, your touch, and your heavenly scent.

All my love,

Arthas
 
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Lazdormu - Entry 7

Time: Begining of the Third war.

Location: Eastern Kingdoms, Silvermoon

Subject: King Arthas Menethil, Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner

After Arthas betrayed his father people and entire kingdom one of his first tasks was to claim the power of the Sunwell to the north of Lorderon. To gain access to the magical well he brought his army to the lands of the high elves in Silvermoon.

Sylvanas Windrunner was charged with the primary defence of the elven capitol Silvermoon. Highly skilled with a bow and arrow and a veteran of the Second war she puts up a valliant fight against the legions of undead at the door step of her home.

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The forests were silent. The very trees held their leaves still despite the rising wind rushing through them. The wood animals had fled long ago, they seemed to have an innate sense for danger and the thankful ability to be able to move. The trees though, those centuries old sentinels, were forced to stand and watch, to wait and bear the brunt of the decimation they knew were coming.

Sylvanas Windrunner was not like the Night Elves that were the ancestors of her people. She did not have the connection to nature that they did, but as a Hunter there were things that she knew. Things that she felt. She could feel the tremor of the trees, the shaking of the earth, the scent of fear emanating from the air around her.

They were coming.

The High Elves knew that this day would come. They had heard of Arthas' change, discovered the expanse of his army, had learnt of his desire to consume the Sun Well. Now they were waiting. Sylvanas and several regiments of her army were positioned in the very trees that she felt. They had an advantage that Arthas never would; they knew this land. They had known it for centuries. And the land knew them. Their home was as much their protector as they were its. They would fight the undead hordes in the way that they knew how. They would still the army, they would slow them.

Sylvanas had sent to the other races of the Alliance for their reinforcement. If Menethil absorbed the power of the Sun Well then he would be unstoppable; he would not content himself with destroying the High Elves. The self-proclaimed King would continue to turn the other races. If the High Elves failed then the rest of Azeroth would be at risk.

Sylvanas took a deep breath and rearranged her grip on the bow. The distant sound of marking feet echoed through the woods and she knew that the moment of reckoning was coming near. She looked up into the canopy of the forest and saw hundreds of sets of eyes looking at her. The blue glow of her countrymen's eyes gave her hope and strength. Together her people had weathered many threats; this would be no different. They would emerge victorious and Arthas and his army of unnatural abominations would be nothing more than pages in a history book.

~*~

Now the trees were filled with a whistling of a different kind.

Arrows made of the brothers and sisters of these sentinels rained from their canopies.

The Undead tide below fell to the ground, writhing as their leathery hides were pierced with the wood of the very country they sought to invade.

Explosions shook the forest and the Ranger-General felt guilt pour from her eyes; to save their people and their home sacrifices had to be made. Traps needed to be set, but they destroyed more than the undead hordes.

Though, like every tide, this one started to overwhelm. The waves of rotting flesh crashed upon the shore of High Elf rage, and the people in the trees soon started to drown.

Retreat was called when Sylvanas could lose no more. Retreat was called when the very trees started to fail.

The taint of the undead preceded their leader. The land was suffering with their tread, and it was turning against its keepers.

In the time they had, they managed to put a heavy dent in the forces of the Kin Killer. Sylvanas knew that she didn't have to buy victory on that day. She only had to buy time.

Time that was purchased by clogging the floors of the forest, culling the numbers of her enemy, and making it harder for Arthas to enter her home unchallenged.

When they assessed the damage later they were pleased that they had retreated. The usurper had used his own forces as ammunition against the trees, meaty hide bringing down centuries old sentinels and turning the earth below foul with corruption.
 
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King Arhas Menethil

Arthas rode at the point of his army against his advisors suggestions. There was no need to hide, no need for stealth or tact. The elves had always spat on the other races, always held themselves higher but in a few shorts days they would be nothing but a memory. As he gazed at the forest border of the Elven lands he could almost see the tree quivering at this advance.

"Remember my King the Elves will not give up the Sunwell without a fight you must be cautious"

The ever present spirit of Kel'thuzad haunted his every waking moment. It seemed like a tortuous joke that the very tyrant he'd slain was watching and guiding his every move. In fact the very reason Arthas was advancing toward the Elven Kingdom was to resurrect the dark mage. The irony was that Arthas had killed him for the very atrocities that he himself ahd commited in the few short months since becoming the Death Knight champion of the Lich King. Practicing dark Magic, ritualistic sacrifice and Murder

"Quiet old man. I know what I'm doing." he spoke to the air in front. The advantage of having a mindless army of undead at your command was that none of them thought you crazy when you talked seemingly to no one.

"The Ranger-General Sylvannas Windrunner guards the borders of these realms she is a cunning warrior with over a millennia of experience it would be wise not to underestimate her."

"Your constant nagging is trying my patience necromancer, if you were still here in flesh and blood I would gladly gut you again for your insolence." Arthas growled.

"Such passion, such anger. I see now why the Lich King chose you to be his champion."

Kel'thuzad's flattery was all a farce, it was his way of reminding Arthas where his power came from and the fact he too had a master despite his self proclaimed title of King. Of course it was no lie, without the Lich King he wouldn't be in command of the greatest army that walked Azeroth. The undead ; despite their lack of intelligence were the perfect army. They required no rest or nourishment, they followed orders without question and they literally fought until nothing of them remained. It was the reason why he had claimed more territory than his father and every other human kingdom could have claimed on their own.

"As his champion I will do what I see fit to achieve victory. With or without your assistance."

"As always I am here to serve" Though Kel'Thuzad no longer had a face Arthas could detect the sneer in his voice.

Just as Arthas was about to return another witty reply he heard a sound out of place in the wind. His new found senses as a Death knight enhanced his much weaker human ones and improved his natural strength and reflexes thus he was able to narrowly avoid the barrage of arrows raining down upon him. Despite his extra sensory perception he still managed to receive an arrow to his shoulder which knocked him of the undead stead he had become accustom to riding.

His troops were less equiped to deal with the suprise attack and despite the endurance of his undead army the rain of arrows still managed to take down a large portion the surrounding warriors. Arthas cursed the elves and crawled into the thick of his army to get more cover from the assault. With the power granted to him by the Lich King he had full control over his army as if they were an extension of his body. He reformed his ranks and marched his troops into the thick forest ahead. From what he could tell they were using the trees to mask their position making it difficult to fight back.

He went through several regiments of skeletons and ghouls before he heard the screams of death as some of the elves fell victim to their arrows. Just as he thought his army was making headway the Elves found another way to slow him down. Strategically placed explosive traps obliterated several chunks of his massive army as they marched forward; being the ever loyal never questioning troops they were none of them stopped or even slowed their advance.

Much to his chagrin the annoying headache of a spirit was right. This Ranger-General wasn't going to just lie back and let him waltz into Silvermoon. She was using the advantage of the forest to provide her army and traps with the cover and safety the needed to slowly wither away at his army.

Arthas knew he couldn't win in the same way that he did in Lorderon. Though his army was seemingly unending if he continued on his current strategy he would run out of troops before he even made it a quarter of the way through the forest. He reluctantly pulled his forces back to a safe zone and set up a make shift camp at a nearby village he'd recently raised. If the elves wanted to use the trees to their advantage then he would destroy the very forest they held so dear. He would rip every single one from its roots and march straight through their beloved city.

He spent the next few hours recovering from his wound and instructing his troops in building siege weaponry to combat the elven archers. As a paladin he would have been able to heal wound like but it took a great deal of magic and concentration. With his new found powers he simply needed to sacrifice one of his own troops to fully regenerate immediately. Even though he wielded many of the powers of the undead he himself still held some of the disadvantages of being mortal, he still needed to rest, eat and protect himself from the elements. Unlike his former self his natural abilities were enhanced without the need for magic and any magic he did use only enhanced his power. He no longer felt remorse and barely felt pain any more the remnants of his humanity dripped away the longer he remained in service to the Lich King and he felt invigorated by it.

When the aptly named Meat Wagons were completed they marched back to the front lines. Freshly supplied with corpses his artillery began their assault on the tree line, though not a normal part of the kit he also cast an unholy fire on the flying corpses being launched to augment the damage they would do. Having the safety of artillery range the elves could not fight back with their measly little arrows, the trees fell under the assault along with any elves that were foolish enough to stick around. His death sense could detect their numbers slowly dwindling under the constant barrage of death; more fuel for his army.

Within a few short hours his Meat Wagons had carved a path through which his army took full advantage of.
 
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Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner

So Arthas could flatten an ancient forest in a matter of hours. Sylvanas wondered if he could raise a chasm floor in the same time.

When they'd retreated from the trees, looks of sadness in their eyes, the quel'dorei knew that they had to work harder if they were to save their home. They funneled over the bridge that led to their Elfgate and Sylvanas had a brilliant but devastating idea.

Her army safe on the side of Quel'Thalas, Sylvanas had a team of mages work to destroy the ancient bridge. It took time, as all of these things did, but it also bought them time. Precious time that they needed.

Without the bridge Arthas would be forced to find another way into her home land. The forest there was so thick that even the elves treaded with care, and beyond that there was a yawning chasm, its depths filled with white water and razor sharp rocks. The old bridge had been large indeed, but a bridge that large could not be built without a great deal of magic and time.

Even though they had destroyed their ancient infrastructure, it was perhaps the only way to buy them enough time to evacuate the city

Sylvanas left the area felling good. Her confidence in the forest had been undue, but the destruction of the bridge had been a good (if difficult) move.

The Elves did not wait around for the fall out, they had more important things to prepare for.
 
King Arthas Menethil

Arthas begrudgingly travelled further behind the front lines of his army. He wasn't fond of hiding behind his troops but his recent encounter with the elves had left a sore point on his pride and he wouldn't make the same mistake again.

After he destroyed a sizeable chunk of the forest and subsequently forced the elves into retreat he and his forces met no resistance as they traversed deeper into the ancient forest. Some of his troops still set of the odd trap but the damage was nothing compared to the losses he incurred earlier. His army laid waste to the first gate and they continued forward along the path.

Just as his mind was drifting to the thought of breaking through the city gates he spied a most annoying obstacle ahead. It seemed that Sylvannas had a lot more guts than he anticipated. The mighty bridge that connected the two major land masses in the elven lands had been destroyed. What lay between his army and Silvermoon was a powerful river that would wash away even the most tenacious army.

"It seems the elves are not too pleased with our presence" Kel'thuzad commented.

"They have also blocked of their only way in and out of their land. She must be desperate to have stranded their whole city."

"Be warned my King, those that are backed into a corner can be very dangerous."

"You need not remind me necromancer." Arthas replyed rubbing the shoulder wound, it had healed completely but his pride still stung.

"We will find another way around." He ordered smaller regiments of his faster troops to scout around the edges of the river to find another crossing, unlike a normal general of an army he wouldn't have to wait for them to return for a report, his power of the undead allowed him to see through the eyes of any under his command.

He instructed the remainder of his forces to build a make shift bridge from the forest materials over the smallest width in the river. It could take them several days to complete, something he was not happy about.

Arthas spent the next few hours pacing impatiently. Kel'thuzad passed the time by tutoring him in some of the new abilities he had not yet used but Arthas couldn't maintain his concentration. Just as Arthas began to take out his frustration on a nearby tree he saw the solution to his problem through the magical link between he and his troops.

A small group of freelance goblins and taken residence on the northern border of the river line. It seemed they were offering their services for illegal passage across the river. His first thought was to slaughter the goblins and take the Zeppelins but as a second thought he realised that even with an army as large as his not a soul knew how to pilot the air ships. It would take a great deal of energy to raise the the goblins as intelligent undead and he needed to conserve that power for the battle.

Luckily for him the Goblins spoke in a language he had an abundance of. Gold. The marshal wasn't particularly happy about an army of undead waltzing up to his airport but after showing him with a several chests of Lorderon coin he treated Arthas as his new best friend.

"Of course we offer the best service gold can by this side of the kingdom. We are not responsible for any random malfunctions that may or may not occur during the journey." The Marshal squeaked out. Arthas respected the amount of courage he was showing the face of literal death.

"As long as it gets my forces and I across that accursed river I do not care." Arthas growled.

"We can't take your whole army."

"WHAT!?". Arthas boomed. The goblin jumped in surprise

"Uh...there's too many of them. Our airships can only take so much weight."

"Then make more than one trip!"

"We only have enough fuel for a return trip. Recent times have exhausted our supply and we don't get a new shipment in till next week."

Blast that woman. If she hadn't been so crazy and destroyed that bridge he would be inside the city limits by now. As it turned out he was haggling with a goblin.

"Fine, give me the numbers and I'll take what I can."

The goblin gave him a sheet of paper several lines of numbers with included calculations. Even without aeronautical knowledge Arthas could already see that the Goblin's math was out. Arthas erred on the safe side and took slightly less than the calculated weight, it would be frustrating if not embarrassing to have to swim to the shore after going down due to shonky goblin math.

When they reached the other side he would use the smaller force to pillage each town and stabilise a foothold so when his main army arrived there would be very little resistance.

Though the airworthiness of the Zeppelin was questionable it did in fact carry them across the river. Wasting no time Arthas sacked the nearest town and began to establish a new base of operations.
 
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Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner

Arthas was clever and resourceful. Sylvanas knew that there wouldn't be much time until he caught up with them. She needed to be prepared. Even though he had managed to obliterate their first gate, the second would be harder. The second Elfgate, the ancient protector of Quel'thalas was filled with a power as old as her race. It had stood, unchallenged, for thousands of years. She knew that it would remain their silent protector.

Despite her confidence, Sylvanas wanted to leave no stone unturned. So she sent off a party of her most powerful priests and mages.

"We will protect the moonscrystals General, you have my word," stated Illyna, the high priest and her oldest friend. Sylvanas reached out and cupped her friend's cheek.

"You will not be protecting the mooncrystals, you will be protecting our entire nation," Sylvanas said, "When you have reinforced the protections around the parts of the Key of Three Moons return home, we will have need of you before this is done."

"Illyna, it is time we left," the gruff voice of Magister Dar'Khan broke through their farewell. Sylvanas gave a stiff nod and stood back.

"Al diel shala," Sylvanas said before turning towards her gathered consultants. Safe travels.


"Anu belore dela'na, dalah'surfal."

The sun guides us, my love.

Illyna's voice was hot in Sylvanas' ear, words caressing her skin and sending shivers down her spine. Illyna's hand gently settled on her shoulder.

"We will not fail."

With that final assurance Illyna left. Even after thousands of years of life and love, Sylvanas could not turn to bit her friend farewell. If she had to watch her leave she knew her heart would break. Partings were never easy.

~*~

The land had failed Arthas and his army, so they took to the sky. Sylvanas saw their arrival through a mage's scrying pool. The Goblins, those little green bastards, had sold their services to the abominations that would soon destroy them. They spoke in gold, but had the wisdom of mud.

Arthas wasted no time laying waste to everything in his way. As the days passed Sylvanas became increasingly concerned. Illyna and Dar'Khans party had not yet returned. They had been tasked with protecting the city's source of protection, and it was taking longer than it should have. At the very least Sylvanas expected that they would have sent word of their progress.

After Sylvanas ordered her people to start defending the land outside their walls once more, she left. She had instructed them to whittle away his forces. It was easy enough; most of them were still on the other side of the destroyed bridge. With such low numbers it was simple to pick them off. Like shooting fish in a net.

Instead of staying to see the carnage in the forests and on the farms, Sylvanas walked through a portal.

An'telas was a success. As soon as Sylvanas approached the ley line she could feel the change in power. It was strong, and it invigorated her. It filled her with a blinding sense of life even before she saw the Altar.

Once more, at An'daroth, Sylvanas felt that power. The invigoration that would destroy the cold darkness of death that drove Arthas and his army. She left that altar feeling relieved and confident.

If An'telas and An'daroth were impressive, then the priests and mages had outdone themselves on An'owyn. Every step closer to the altar filled Sylvanas with a sense of ecstasy. Success, power, life, all flavoured by the essense of Illyna. She had to walk away before she got to close, knowing that she could be there if Arthas arrived, and that the true Illyna would be on her way home.

But she wasn't.

Sylvanas saw the smoke from a distance. Closer, it was like a slow bleed from a shallow crater. The place still sizzled with smoke and death, and blood was splattered around the dirt like spring rain on freshly tilled soil.

Though she found no answers, only more questions.

~*~

When Arthas approached their gates, Sylvanas had begun to lose hope for her priests and mages. Never the less, she held out hope for her people. The mooncrystals were well protected, and she knew that Arthas would not be able to capture one, let alone all three of them.

Despite this, Sylvanas was cautious. The greater population of Quel'dorei had retreated behind the walls of Silvermoon. The walls were manned and the doors blockaded. If, in the unlikely event that Arthas penetrated the Elfgate, the city would be well protected.

They could not lose this.
 
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King Arthas Menethil

Arthas quickly claimed the first few towns he came across with his smaller army, unfortunately most of elves had abandoned their homes and thus he couldn't build his forces as fast as he wanted. To make matters worse Sylvanas used hit and run tactics against his developing bases halting the production of his forces even more. She was becoming even more of a thorn in his side than he previously imagined. When he caught up with her she would pay for her defiance.

Rather than spreading his forces even further he opted to hold the ground he'd already established and simply focus on building a strike force to break through the second gate. There was no time to wait for the rest of his army, the longer it took the more time they would have to secure their defenses.

"The second gate cannot be breached so easily my King. It is protected by a magical lock that can only be opened by a hidden key."

"What foolishness are you on about necromancer?" Arthas spat back.

"As a member of the Kirin Tor I was privy to many secrets the elves kept. On a particularly casual evening one of their archmagi revealed that the inner gate was protected by an ancient spell that required a specific key to open it. The spell itself made the gate impenetrable but the downside was the key had to be on the outside to project the power of the spell onto the gate."

"And do you know the location of said key?"

"That particular mage did not give away his secret in that conversation unfortunately"

Arthas growled audibly. What good was knowing about the key when he didn't know where it was, the Elven forest was a large even for the greater part of his army and it would take days more to scour it for something that may not even exist. Kel'thuzad interupted his thoughts.

"Fortunately, that mage's mind was particularly vulnerable while he was intoxicated. It turns out he was one of the original keepers of the key, to make it harder for invaders to find the key it was split into three parts and one was given to him. He hid the key in a special location on this side of the gate and placed protective enchantments around it. Of course to be sure he didn't wake up the next morning and change the location I made sure he didn't wake at all."

Arthas could almost picture the sadistic smile on his ethereal companions face.

"What about the other two?"

"I was only ever able to obtain the location of one, perhaps however with one of the pieces we can ascertain the location of the others."

"I suppose it's better than nothing. We shall take a small force to this location, I don't want Sylvanas knowing what we now know."

Arthas hand picked specialised undead troops of his army that were quick and stealthy and made his way to the location given by Kel'thuzad. On their way they a group of elven priests he and his troops rushed the group head on, they retreated to the alter that held the fragment but eventually their magic ran dry and he had them surrounded.

"Where are the other two fragments!?" He demanded. He could sense the fear oozing from them, all of them except one. That one spoke up.

"How do you know about the key?" . She was the only female priest in the group, judging by her robes she was the senior priest. The defiant look in her face irked him greatly, without warning the stuck her across the face with the back of his gauntlet.

"That is not your concern, you should be more worried about whether I will kill you quickly or slowly." Arthas turned to the priest next to her and placed his hand around his neck, using his necrotic power he drained the elf's life force whilst inflicting the maximum amount of pain. The elf screamed and withered around uselessly until he finally slumped and collapsed to the ground. Pathetic.

The elven female flinched but didn't waver, a trail of blood trickled from her split lip. He looked at the next one down the line, just as his hand was about to close around his throat he spoke up.

"Wait, please don't kill me. I'll tell you where they are."

"Dar'kan! You cannot!" The female spoke up but he struck her again. Hard enough to knock her out.

"If you lie to me I promise you an unimaginably painful death."

"I would not lie to you King Arthas, I only ask that when you breach the gates and take the sunwell you would allow me to share in its power."

"Why should I give you anything but a clean death mage?"

"Because without me alive you will never get past the new wards around the fragments."

"He lies my king. None of them would ever betray their people." The annoying inner voice named Kel'thuzad acted like his conscience.

"Quiet necromancer I will make the decisions" Arthas turned away and growled. Dar'kan and the remaining shared odd looks at his out of context out burst.

Arthas thought for a moment. He could simply kill the mage and raise him as his servant, however he knew from experience that not all of the abilities an individual transfered from life to death. There was a risk that whatever power he had to remove the protection would be lost.

"Fine, you have a deal."

Just in case Dar'kan didn't follow through Arthas kept the others alive, including the defiant bitch priest, he looked forward to torturing her for the information. he decided to deal with the first fragment.

The first ghouls that approached the barrier was disintegrated instantly. The next two suffered a similar fate. Arthas quickly pulled back before he lost anymore.

"Dar'kan, what is this!?" He demanded.

"The new ward are specifically designed to deter any necrotically energised force from entering. I can weaken the barrier which will allow you to get through without being destroyed but it will still hurt."

"I do not trust him my king." Kel'Thuzad advised.

"Why me?"

"From what I gather, unlike your minions you are not completely undead. This means you can pass through without being killed instantly however the death magic that run through you will weaken you to the point you will not make it through either. The Ranger-General doesn't know about your remaining humanity and with my help you will make it."

Arthas turned and grabbed the mage by the throat and lifted him into the air.

"You are trying to trick me. Do you think me a fool mage. Do you think I will simply walk through and allow myself to be destroyed."

"You have no other choice." He choked. Arthas gripped tighter

"I have the other priests to interrogate." His thoughts returned to the specialised kind of torture he wanted to give the female one.

"You could waste your time on them or you can let me do what I promised." Arthas loosened his grip slightly, the mage was right. He could be wasting his time but then it could also be a trick. There was one way to ensure that the mage was being honest.

"Fine, well play your game but with my rules. I will use a soul linking spell on you Dar'kan. The pain that I feel will be transfered to you tenfold and if I should perish well lets just say your soul will find itself evicted from its current home to make way for me."

Dar'kan looked frightened but nodded in agreement. After the spell was cast Dar'kan summoned his magic, Arthas approached the barrier and prepared himself. Arthas was no stranger to pain, though he no longer felt it like he did as a paladin it was still there however the pain he felt upon crossing the threshold was like none he'd ever felt before. It felt like his body was being literally ripped apart a thousand times over. He looked over at Dar'kan and was pleased to see the mage screaming out whilst trying to maintain his spell. Though it wasn't an ideal situation, he had a contingency plan.

Arthas continued forward and the pain increased but like the mage promised it didn't kill him. After what felt like hours of agnosing pain he laid his hands on the piece, upon releasing it from the alter the spell protecting it dropped. Both he and the mage collapsed. He awoke to the voice of Kel'thuzad

"My king, My king. You've done it! The fragment is ours."

"No thanks to you necromancer!"

Arthas looked over at the Dar'kan.

"Is he dead?"

"No my King the mage survived."

"A pity."

Dar'kan not only gave him the location of the fragments he also marked the positions of many Elven forces that were guarding the key routes around the forest.

Luckily for him and for Dar'kan Arthas survived the next two fragments. With the combined piece of the key Arthas took the rest of his forces and stormed the gate. He decided to test the defensive shield of the gate first, as described it was impenetrable. When he took out the key however it was little more than parchment under the weight of his power.

 
Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner

When the second Elfgate disintegrated like dust in the wind, Sylvanas felt as though she could breath. Every muscle in her body constricted, and her grip on her bow became painful.

"General!" One of her advisers called back.

The way between the elves and the undead horde was clear, and Sylvanas could see the black empty eyes gazing upon the life of her force hungrily.

"Altis, your troops are to remain here. The rest are to fall back to the city to protect the citizens. Tell the people to retreat to the shelters," As soon as she begun speaking her captains launched into action. "Tul'ran, send out runners to all of the other races of the Alliance. I fear that, without their help, the cost of this battle will be too great."

"As you order General," Tul'ran said with a swift bow before running off.

~*~

The battle was long and bloody. Sylvanas was stuck in the purgatory between Arthas' force and the citizens of Silvermoon. She directed the battle as best as she could, but she could feel herself being backed up further and further until the very walls of Silvermoon fell behind her.

Coordinated strikes against the flanks of the undead army worked well, but not well enough. Their were simply too many of them. And the army kept growing. Every quel'dorei that was slain was quickly reanimated, fresh corpses turning to fight against those it had just called kin.

It was getting harder and harder for her people to fight. The front line of the scourge turned from decomposing outsiders to puppets of loved ones. The morale of her troops were low, and they knew that reinforcements were unlikely.

Despite the odds, despite the horror, despite the despair, Sylvanas kept fighting. As soon as her forces gave another block of the city, they would bring the block to the ground. They would bring the buildings of their homes crushing down onto the body of their enemies. The further they retreated the more desperate they got.

Just as Sylvanas began to lose hope, Arthas' army stopped pushing towards the shelters. Now that they had entered the city they continued towards the rear walls. Instead of chasing down and destroying all of the elves, they intended to march through to the Sun Well.

It was perfect.

Deciding that too many lives had been needlessly lost, Sylvanas ordered a cease fire. She allowed the undead to swarm through the deserted streets of her city until they reached the back wall. The gate was open, ready, waiting for them to exit. Outside of the gates were all of the spell casters that still had energy left to fight.

Now mostly outside the city, but closer to their goal, Sylvanas redoubled her efforts. The orders for an evacuation of the city were issued, and the people that had days huddling in fear were now given a clear path to flee.

~*~

Their forces weren't enough, and no reinforcements came.

Sylvanas was now amongst a small group of fighters who managed to survived the constant onslaught of undead. They were exhausted, hungry and all out of hope. They had retreated to a copse of trees to regroup themselves. That was when he found them.

In a way, Sylvanas was pleased that Arthas had found her. Now that her army was gone there was only one way to defeat him and to save the Sun Well. She had to destroy him herself.

Arthas stood before her, with an endless army of corpses behind him. He stood, tall, cold, and utterly in power.

"So you found me," Sylvanas called across the distance. Her few remaining soldiers stepped in behind her. "You got further than we ever imagined, congratulations. But, Arthas, this is where it ends."

Sylvanas took a few steps forward, creating some distance between herself and her loyal comrades.

"Fight me now Arthas. I should have ended this before you breached the first Elfgate. Let me now destroy you, to seek revenge for the death you have wrought upon my people."

Sylvanas stood, her body ready for a fight. At her back were a quiver of arrows especially enchanted to harm undead abominations. Her aim was the best in the land, and she had been fighting for thousands of years before this once-human whelp had even been conceived. She could not lose.

Sylvanas took a deep breath.

I can not lose.
 
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King Arthas Menethil

Arthas and his army swarmed through the elven land, after breaking down the second gate they met very little resistance when they funneled their way through Silvermoon it felt as if they Elves had given up. Arthas become suspicious, the Ranger-General had not given up once since the beginning of his campaign, he watched her forces retreat over and over but never did they surrender willingly.

Arthas could sense the rest of his army catching up and with a simple thought he positioned them around all the possible escape routes around the forest, sure enough they caught many runners that Sylvanas sent in a vain attempt to contact her allies. It failed.

Satisfied that her final card had been played Arthas marched on.

"At last my king, the elves are finished. The sunwell is nearly ours." Kelthuzad congratulated him.

"There is one last thing necromancer, That Ranger-General has been a much larger thorn in my side that I would care to admit. She will pay for her insolence."

"Be careful my King, that one will not go down without a fight."

"I hope not."

His army boxed the remainder of her forces in an empty corner of the forest at the exit of the city. There was nowhere to run. She and her brave bad stood in tight formation trying to remain brave against the overwhelming odds in front of them. Arthas kept his army at bay and watched as Sylvanas approached him.

Arthas chuckled loudly at her challenge, with a single thought he could wipe her and the small group with only minor losses but they way she looked at him, the defiance in the way she stood, it taunted him so much there was no ignoring it.

"You dare challenge me little elf. My army could crush you in a breath, yet I find myself entertained by the prospect of humiliating you in front of your comrades. I shall accept your challenge!"

He dismounted of his undead stead and drew Frostmourne the icy death blade shimmered in the warm air, it hungered for a soul. Her soul. Sylvanas wasted no time in initiating combat, she fired a volley of arrows in his direction with lightning speed. His new and improved body gave him super-human reflexes and he was able to dodge most of the barrage, one of the arrows caught in the shoulder and he growled angrily. Arthas snapped of the tail of the arrow off and raised his glowing blade.

Sylvanas wasn't phased at all and continued firing relentlessly in his direction he deflected most of the incoming arrows, unfortunately they weren't all quite that simple. Two of them exploded on impact and knocked him back, a couple more defied the laws of physics and curved around his defenses burying themselves cleanly in his arm and leg. If not for his thick armour they would have been a lot more damaging. He was able to shrug of most of the flimsy arrows until more and more of them found their mark. He could tell they were specialised against undead, Luckily for him the remaining human part of him gave him the ability to resist most of the negative effects.

Despite her constant assault he kept his advance strong when he closed the distance he was able to cast a bolt of shadowy energy at her, she dodged the first wave so he continued. She dance around nimbly avoiding each strike, though none of his attacks landed it kept her on the defensive. Arthas continued until he was within melee range. Right where he wanted her. She was only good at range and would not be able to withstand his close quarter combat skill.

She surprised him by drawing a pair of small blades to stand toe to toe against him. He wasn't prepared for the speed that she welded the small knives and was rewarded with several glancing blows against the chain mail around his more vulnerable armour. Eventually she got lucky and sunk her blade between his ribs. Arthas fell into a nearby pile of dead elves, presumably from their earlier fighting. Sylvanas wasted no time in trying to finish him off but now he had her right where he wanted her.

He used the power of the Lich King to absorb the necrotic energy from the surrounding dead, their recently expired corpses provided him with the power necessary to heal himself and recharge his depleted power. Arthas parried her attack and rushed at her without warning, she only just managed to side step most of the brunt of his attack but still stumbled slightly. Arthas used the momentary lapse in defense to send a mailed glove across her face. Blood sprayed from her lips as hand met flesh with a satisfying thunk. Arthas didn't let her recover and immediately grabbed her wrist sending a chill of frost bite into her skin. The sudden rush of magic caused her to lose grip on her weapons and balance on her feet. With her completely defenceless now he brought his nightmarish blade above his blade and stabbed her straight through the stomach.

Her death cry could be heard across all of Silvermoon.
 
Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner

The first thing she felt was the pain.

It came in waves. It swirled around her stomach before crashing outwards towards her limbs. As sensation returned to her so did her memories.

Sylvanas struggled to open her eyes, her lids feeling weighted and slow to respond. It was dark, that she knew. There was light flickering into the area from somewhere distant, and that was it. The air was stale, and the ground that she was lying on was cold stone. When her eyes adjusted she could see metal bars a few feet away.

As Sylvanas shifted she felt the cold stone floor scrape against her bare skin. Looking down at herself, she gritted her teeth. She was completely naked. With a grunt, she pushed herself up into a seated position. She cringed when she felt some of the stone jut into her rear.

Unsure hands traversed the familiar territory of her stomach. The skin was tender, but whole. Even though the wash of pain was internal, when Sylvanas looked down it was to see a mostly healed wound.

The sinister glint of steel and Arthas's laughter echoed through her memory.

She was alive.

Sylvanas didn't know how, but she had survived the death stroke.

At that moment, she thought that she had met her end. Thousands of years of living all come to a close at that momentous point in time. Despite all of her ideas of what facing death would feel like, she hadn't expected the emptiness. The sense of failure.

Sylvanas Windrunner had achieved much in her time. But as Arthas plunged his blade into her stomach, all she felt was failure.

There was an entire city that needed her to destroy one man. One single degenerate human.

And she didn't.

A sense of purpose rushed through her, warming the frigid extremities of her body and spurring her heart back to life.

She was alive now. She didn't know how, but she was, and she refused to fail again.

Sylvanas got to her feet. She tentatively stretched her muscles as she rose and found them surprisingly unharmed. She was tired, yes, and there was a constant swirl of pain radiating outwards from her freshly healed stomach, but it was bearable.

On silent feet she slipped over to the thick bars of her cell. A quick check of them told her that they were of the ordinary kind, but reasonably well made. The hinges proved to be thoroughly crafted, and she would not be able to knock them out. Her hands closed around the bars and she rested her forehead against them.

With a heavy sigh she squatted down, ignoring the way the the frigid dungeon air tickled her bare skin. She rested each of her hands on a bar, the two parallel to each other. She then closed her eyes and concentrated on the words of a spell that she knew well. As she cast it, she thought of the modifications that would need to happen for her spell to work.

When Sylvanas stood it was with a grim smile. There was a small blue circle glowing around the base of the two bars she had chosen. She took a small step back and then slammed her closed fist against one of the bars before pulling it back against her body.

With a whooshing sound, the two bard were immediately encased in a thick pillar of ice. The freezing was almost instantaneous, and Sylvanas knew that they were cold beyond belief. It was a special trap. It wasn't the gradual freeze of a fireless winter's night. It was the snap freeze of a freak storm, with a ferocity that only magic could provide. It meant that the beings normally frozen within were done so quickly enough to avoid lasting damage.

Sylvanas crouched down low, and then with an exhalation of force, she brought her leg up, her foot slamming into the ice column.

Nothing.

Another kick, and the sound of cracking filled the cell.

After a moment of tension, the ice shattered in front of her. It exploded into thousands of tiny shard, some catching the dim light and turning into miniature rainbows as they fell around her.

When Sylvanas looked at where the two bars had been, she grinned. Now all that remained were nasty looking stubs attached to the roof and the floor. Sylvanas then looked around and, to her relief, managed to find a shard of one of the bars that was about a foot long. She picked it up and found that it was quickly becoming warmer in her grip. She used her finger to test the edge and was pleased; with some force it could be lethal.

~*~

The dungeon was nothing short of labyrinthine. This was something that Sylvanas discovered in her attempt to escape. Time passed oddly in the darkness, and as she slid noiselessly, naked, through the shadows, she tried to figure out where she was.

Her first clue came when she spotted her first set of stairs.

At the base of the circular stair well were two undead abominations. She watched what used to be two male humans staring dumbly into the darkness.

Even though they were supposed to be on lookout, they didn't see her coming. The skill of a several millennium outweighed the complacency of a couple of human decades.

The shadows, convenient to cut costs for them, became her greatest ally. It wasn't until she was upon them that they were alerted to her presence. At that stage she managed to slip her makeshift bar-dagger into one's neck. As she pulled it back out it squelched, the creature fell to the ground gurgling his last breath through a hole in his throat. Sylvanas felt his cool congealed blood oozing down over her naked breast as the other man's dead mouth opened in a haunting imitation of genuine shock.

He withdrew his weapon with unusual speed for one on the other side of life, and he lunged towards her vulnerable body. She managed to dodge, his weapon clanging noisily against the wall behind her. Taking advantage of his exposure, Sylvanas brought her elbow down hard into the crook of his. his entire arm buckled and his sword fell to the ground. A swift kick from Sylvanas impacted against his stomach with an oof and he fell back against the wall behind him.

Sylvanas lunged forward and jabbed at him with her bar, but he managed to dodge. One of his hands clasped around her neck and pulled her closer, his dead eyes sparking with some form of recognition as they slid up and down her body. Her throat was burning and she was struggling for oxygen in her grasp. Foolinshly, he brought her closer. At this range she managed to thrust her bar through his dead heart with enough force to hit the wall behind. As he struggled against the pinning, she swept down and retrieved his fallen sword, then using it to slash his throat.

Sylvanas looked at the corpse's corpses and her lips curled up in a sneer. She considered taking their clothing, but it was nothing more than poor quality scraps reeking with the stench of their death. Instead, she used it to wipe the thick bloody goop off her new acquired sword, before cautiously ascending the stairs.
 
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King Arthas Menethil

Death was a gift. His gift.

After Arthas drove his runeblade into Sylvanas he made sure to bind her soul to his magic. Under normal circumstances such an attack would have killed her but he ensured that she would remain on the cusp of life and death. His specialised spell would keep her under his power yet allow her to retain a lot of what she could experience whilst alive. She would not notice any difference until it was too late.

Most of the remaining elves that his forces encountered were slaughtered and raised as his minions, his army continued on to the sunwell and Kel'thuzad began the ritual that would grant him a new body. Arthas was relieved to be finally rid of his piggy backing assistant and now that he had some time to kill he wanted to spend it wisely.

He kept Sylvanas and Illyna in suspended animation whilst he prepared. Dar'kan revealed that Illyna was more than just another soldier to Sylvanas, she was something much more. The connection between them would give him the ammunition he would use to destroy both of their souls simultaneously. Arthas moved his forces to an old and forgotten underground ruins south of Silvermoon. The dark dank sewer system made for the perfect base of operations for any undead army and it came equipped with holding cells and torture chambers perfect for his needs.

Arthas called for his abominations to bring in the two prisoners. Both the female elves had loose strips of clothing hanging of their lithe frames. They were both stained the dirt and blood from combat but still retained their annoying natural beauty that all elves possessed.

Arthas drew his rune blade Frostmourne used the sharp edges to tear the remainder of their clothing from them, he wasn't careful with his efforts and scored a few nicks before stripping them completely he took a moment longer to admire the perfect form of their bodies and perfect vulnerability.

Arthas touched the tip of the blade on the center of Sylvanas' chest, her soul leaked helplessly from the fatal wound spiraling around his deathly blade. He drew a sliver of the energy and dragged it over to Illyna; in one smooth motion he stabbed straight through her stomach mirroring Sylvanas' injury. Illyna screamed out in shock and the halls echoed with her pain, she was barely conscious for a moment before Arthas cast the same spell on her to keep her at the edge of life and death; he then merged part of her and Sylvanas' soul together. Through the link they would feel each other's pain and pleasure only limited to how much he allowed. With the two of them completely under his power he prepared the rest of his plan.

He commanded one of the abominations to take Sylvanas back to one of the cells. He kept the guards around the area minimal to give her the illusion that she would be able to escape. No matter where she went however the maze would lead her exactly where he wanted.

Arthas decided not to waste the torture bed in one of the nearby rooms, with the assistance of his undead slaves he shackled Illyna to the wooden frame so that her arms and legs were spread out in the open. Though he didn't need them he decided to keep his minions around positioning them like a crowd of onlookers.

One of his other minions brought in a backpack with a mixture of implements perfect for the next few hours to come. When he was finally ready Arthas woke Slyvanas, he wanted to keep Illyna mostly unconscious to use as a puppet whilst he toyed with the Ranger-General.

Just as he suspected she planned and enacted her escape, he wanted her through the magic in the walls, through her own eyes and through the eyes of his other minions. He enjoyed watching her move naked in the dark , she was quick and efficient at dispatching some of his guards, but that was about to change, Arthas opened the link between her and Illyna, though the dungeon was already cold his body was much colder, using only his finger tips he traced lines on her body starting from the finger tips and headed toward her mid-section. Their skin reacted immediately with goosebumps, he continued along and placed his fingers lightly on the edge of Illyna's nipples they hardened even more under his chilling touch. Arthas smiled as he watched Sylvanas deal with the new found sensations.
 
Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner

When Sylvanas scaled the stairs she looked up and around her. She had expected another dank dungeon level, but instead found herself standing amidst the ruins of the next two levels. Looking up, she could see the gaping hole in the floor of the next level. Both levels were lined with traditional jail style cells.

Looking ahead, Sylvanas saw the the floor of the level she was on was still intact. It made her wonder what had happened to the upper level to destroy it so thoroughly. Either way she knew where she had to go. Off in the distance, on the level above, there was another winding stair case that was releasing filtered light into the other levels below.

Sylvanas stood silent for a few moments. Above the constant sound of dripping and scurrying was another, more erratic sound. It was a strange chittering, the sound of something hard tapping against the stone. She wasn't sure at that moment what it was, but she knew that it wasn't human.

Proceeding down the hallway with care, and with her sword raised in preparation, Sylvanas initially met no resistance. She cell after cell, some housing the bones of unfortunate prisoners, the others home to nothing more than rats and dust.

Despite the ease of this floor so far, Sylvanas stopped. She felt trails of cold sensation running the length of her arms and torso. Each time it happened her skin raised into bumps at the frigidness. Initially she looked down expecting to see spiders of some kind. Instead there was nothing. Sylvanas took a deep breath and then tensed and relaxed her muscles consciously. The strange sensations were undoubtedly due to her recent (suspicious) recovery from her lethal wound.

Continuing on, Sylvanas attempted to ignore the sensations. However, a few feet further down the hall they extended to her breasts. A thin cold pressure against her nipples saw them stiffen immediately, the her blood flooded her breasts and her nether regions in reaction, her free hand coming up to cover her breasts and put her own slightly warmer pressure against them. Her body started tingling and she wondered at the marvel that was life returning to her limbs.

Thankfully the sensations stopped as she continued walking. She concentrated on the way that her body felt as she moved, muscles stretching and contracting, skin skimming the cool air.

As Sylvanas neared a darkened corridor the chittering was louder. She slowed as she approached, employing her stealth techniques.When she peeked around the corner she only had a moment to jump back as a two clawed arm reached out and took a swipe at her. Her natural grace meant that she landed on her feet, well balanced and ready to dash to the side as the creature took another swipe at her naked waist.

"Kthuuuunnsskkkiii!" The creature cried out in rage as Sylvanas dashed out of its way.

"Foul abomination!" Sylvanas cried, looking at the large carapace of the crypt fiend. She could smell the decay and hear its vile rasping voice as it no doubt cursed her in its own language.

Sylvanas was just about to thrust her sword into the creatures underbelly when she felt a firm force slapping against her rear. She jumped to the side, turning, expecting to see another enemy behind her... nothing. With her divided attention, the claw of the Crypt Fiend managed to skim her hip and draw blood.

With a spin and a swipe she managed to land a crunching hit onto the creatures front legs, it's joints buckled and it rolled onto its side.

Another sharp strike from behind made her turn again, only to see nothing. Suspicion roused, she used the time that the fiend was on the ground to check behind her. Nothing. With a growl of annoyance she turned to find the creature skittering to its feet.

The fight continued, and each time Sylvanas felt something hit her body she had to ignore it. The creature had only managed to land one strike and they were definitely along. Her confusion was growing as more parts of her body felt as if they were being struck; her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, her hips. As she finally sunk her blade into the creature's shoulder she felt a sharp impact against her womanhood that had her fall to her knees, drenching her in the waterfall of the creatures hot acidic blood.

When the crypt fiend was finally dead she ripped some rotting bandages off its torso and used it to clean her of its gore. She wiped her sword down again and looked around.

She could see that the staircase on this story was blocked by a pile of rubble from t he floor above. There was no way she'd be able to move it all. She didn't know how much time she had to escape, but she felt as though she had already wasted enough. She looked around the corridor and noticed that the stonework walls were roughly hewn enough around the nearest cell to act as handholds.

Looting some more bandages from the crypt fiend, Sylvanas hastily wrapped the blade in fabric. She then grabbed another bandage and tied it around her wait. She used the material as a make shift belt and scabbard to secure the sword while she climbed.

After scaling the height of the cell she saw a spot just to her right where the roof had caved in. A quick observation of the wall between where she was and the opening she needed to get to revealed scant hand and foot holds. In one way it was good that she had no shoes on. She would need to use all of her dexterity to maintain her position on the wall. However, she soon discovered that she no longer had any protection against the rough stone. As she shimmied over she gasped in pain as her nipples snagged against a gap in the stones. Sylvanas looked down and then frowned. Her breasts were against one large stone with no obvious flaws. Her body was not coping with her near death experience well.

The strange pinching sensation of her nipples continued to intensify as she made her way across. By the time she reached the hole in the roof her arms were shaking with the effort of maintaining her grip with the pain in her nipples.

The next part of the process would be difficult in her weakened state. Her hands grasped onto the sharp ledge and she pulled herself up. She managed against the wall to gain leverage, and with one swift exhalation she pulled herself up. She was then balancing against the edge, her breasts and stomach bent over on the floor of the next story as her legs and hips hung over the void. She brought one leg up and then put her knee on the ledge. Just as she was about to lift herself up completely an intruding force in her womanhood threw her forward. It was a sudden thrust, invading her nethers that saw her face pushed into the ground and her chest slammed against the floor. She groaned in pain as the sensation subsided.

Breathing heavily she got to her hands and knees, her womanhood throbbing from the phantom fullness. She wasn't sure what was going on; perhaps something happened to her whilst she was comatose. Perhaps it was the lingering effect of some vile abuse while she slept.

Just as she was about to get to her feet she cried out as her stomach and thighs exploded in pain and she fell to her back. She felt as though she was being flogged; her skin suddenly hot and stinging in regions, a heavy pressure followed by the cool air. It went on for longer than she could count. Slowly it subsided and she rose to her feet.

Her body may be betraying her at that moment, but for her sake and its, she had to continue.
 
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King Arthas Menethil

Arthas watched with a pervasive pleasure as Sylvanas tried to ignore his light touches. Illyna wasn't quite as focused on a task and so she moaned lightly under his touch.

Arthas reached into his bag of tricks and brought out a wooden paddle the handle was smooth and ergonomic designed to be held for long periods of torture one side of the paddle was smooth with a leather covering and the other side had studs of spiked metal each generating their own unique sensations.

Before he turned Arthas had never been a fan of torture he'd always considered it cowardice and dishonorable but since he'd given in soul to the Lich King his perception of honour had all but vanished. Arthas spun the implement around several times before eyeing his victims. Illyna lay unconscious on the wooden bed, completely vulnerable and open to him and Sylvanas was poised for combat about to face down one of his many Crypt fiends. Without armour and in her weakened state the undead arachnid had quite the advantage but Arthas made sure his minions would only ever injure her slightly. Part of the game was keeping her on edge, she needed to think there was a chance of escape no matter how small.

Arthas manipulated the chain manacles and raised he legs higher in the air. He waited until Sylvanas was about to strike before using the flat side of the paddle on Illyna's exposed backside. Illyna yelped in her sleep but did not wake, Sylvanas reacted just as suspected, Arthas made sure his minion landed a glancing blow. She turned back to the task and hand to which Arthas responded with another solid strike on the opposing butt check. The one ivory skin of Illynas shapely backside started to show the redness of assault.

Not to be deterred Sylvanas kept up the fight and each strike and thrust she made Arthas matched by striking another part of Illyna, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs and her hips. When she made the killing blow Arthas used he bare hand on her sensitive nether lips. He felt the stickiness of Illyna juices as his hand landed.

Arthas decided to give the both of them some reprieve, he found it quite arousing to keep them so tightly strung. He reached into his bag to retrieve a pair of nipple clamps, the jagged edges of these clips was enough to encite a firm reaction but not enough to inflict significant damage a bonus feature was the ability to adjust the friction with a small adjustment. Just as Sylvanas was halfway through her dangerous climb he clamped them down on Illyna's breasts, this time both of them mirrored each others reaction; a gasp and slight whimper. Arthas slowly tightened them, Illyna began to squirm against her restraints.

When he was happy with the tension he stepped back to admire his work. Sylvanas was struggling with the new sensation but she didn't give up, if she didn't make his last campaign so difficult he would admire her tenacity. He watched with a wide grin as Sylvanas bent over to right herself on the ledge with the magical wards watching her he had a perfect view of her slightly parted womanhood. He was going to wait till later but both Illyna and Sylvanas were in the perfect position for a surprise invasion, Arthas stepped between Illynas spread legs and plunged two of his fingers firmly into her opening.

Their combined reaction was perfect and he couldn't help but bring his paddle upon Illyna's stomach and thighs again and again, the echo of leather against skin bounced around the room in unison with Illyna screams of pain. His minions watched with a blank expression on their face. When he was satisfied that her skin had received the right amount of punishment he stood back and pulled his fingers back out. He tasted the womanly juices of her arousal on his fingers, the body was powerless to react when certain sensations were enacted. Being in a unique state of undeath and life he was still sensitive to such things, he felt the pressure of arousal against the leather of his pants. He was dressed in a combination cloth and leather suit that he owned in his former life, it felt right against his muscles and manhood. He used a conveniently positioned part of his pants to pull his rigid member out into the cold air. It throbbed angrily at him and the shine of pre-cum had already coated the tip. Though his physiology had changed somewhat since becoming a death knight his blood still ran freely around his body.

Sylvanas continued through the maze, she found herself down a corridor that lead to a larger meeting room. Arthas positioned a large amount of his forces in this room as a staging ground, despite her skill with the blade there was no chance she could fight her way through. She opted to sneak around them using an adjacent corridor, her elven dexterity would assist her but Arthas wanted to see how good she really was. He reached into his bag again and pulled out a flogger. The whip was made of specially treated leather, thick enough to land a solid blow but thin enough to allow full and free movement as it was used.

With his two weapons in hand he moved to stand next to Illyna's head. He set the tension on the nipple clamps to the next level and began his pattern of flogging, this time he used the spiked end of the paddle and he alternated between whip and paddle. He worked from her breasts to her stomach to her thighs and then on her pussy. If Sylvanas was about to reveal her position he had the perfect gag, hard and ready right in front of Illyna's half open mouth
 
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Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner

The stench coming from the abomination filled room was overwhelming. Sylvanas had to breath shallow breaths through her mouth to avoid doubling over and retching. As it was, she knew she needed to be quiet. The passage that led around the room was narrow and dark, but it also had multiple doors leading into the room. If she alerted them to her presence she was unsure if she could survive the fight. On any other day, with her body in prime condition, she would be able to take them on. But, as she moved, her nipples continued to throb and she knew that something was definitely wrong.

Sylvanas took a moment to center herself before she begun her commune with the shadows. She called upon them to wreathe her body, to wrap their smokey tendrils around her skin, to absorb her into their darkness. Her fingers trailed lightly against the wall as they guided her along her path. Her foot steps were light and her concentration complete.

Then, out of nowhere, her world was lit by a thousand stars of pain. All down her back she felt a hard smack against her back and a following sting that lingered. All of her breath escaped her body in one exhalation of shock, and she fell against the wall beside her. She turned and saw that there was no one around her, she felt no disturbance in the air that would betray an invisibility spell. Nothing. Only the pain. Something strange was happening to her; as if her body was making ammends for thousands of years of hard use.

Sylvanas took a deep breath and continud on, but before travelling more than two steps the pain hit again. This time her gasp came with a whimper, and she used the wall for support. As soon as the immediate agony subsided her body began to shake, her breath coming rapidly. She looked down the corridor and listened to the sounds coming from the room. This was the worse time for her body to retaliate; she needed to be silent and she needed to get out of this dungeon.

Sylvanas' confidence had just begun to return after she managed to travel a few more feet without issue; though she was not that lucky.

The third strike was the hardest, overlapping the previous two areas of pain and making her cry out. Howver, the cry did not come to fruiting. Instead she felt as if she was choking; she felt a pressure down her throat that made her gag and splutter, her hands coming up to grasp at her throat. Her aching back pressed against the cold stone wall, but there was no relief. A rain of pain assaulted her back and she doubled over.

Suddenly, through her spluttering, Sylvanas heard the shuffling of feet. She knew that she had to move, agony be damned. Getting to her feet, entire body shaking, she used all of her concentration to move to the door that now seemed a hundred miles away.

Each step brought with it a new pain, whether it was another pulse of her back or the feeling of the choking being renewed. Each step got harder and harder. Finally she approached the door. Stepping over the threshold she collapsed, hoping that the pain would stop.

There was something unnatural about this place, some curse within its walls. It was assaulting her, trying to kill her, trying to finish the work that Arthas had started.
 
King Arthas Menethil

Arthas watched with sick satisfaction as both Illyna and Sylvanas struggled to hold their composure Illyna muffled screams vibrated down the length of his thick member as he held it deep in her throat. Even though the spell would prevent either of them from doing him any harm he allowed her teeth to provide positive pressure around him.

Just as Sylvanas got through to the other side he gave them a reprieve from his assault. He pulled his member slowly from Illyna's mouth and gave it a few small pumps, he then wiped a sliver of pre cum on her tongue and lips to give the both of them a taste of his seed.

Sylvanas took a few minutes to herself in a dark corner to regather her wits, she was utterly perplexed by what was happening to her and the power he had over her was all the more arousing to him. Wanting to keep her on edge he moved the group of his forces in her direction making them purposely noisy. She jumped up and continued further down the corridor as his patrol closed in she made the decision to hide in a nearby hole in the wall. The space was particularly small and she had hold keep her arms and legs close to her body just to fit. Arthas made sure each of his troops moved agonisingly slow as the passed her hiding place.

It was at this point that Arthas decided it was time to play again. He moved back around to Illyna's spread legs, he reached into his bag and brought out a small glowing crystal. It was cylindrical in shape and tapered out to a blunt head as thick as his wrist; after speaking the word of power the crystal came to life and the thick head began to vibrate. With magic he could vary the intensity and temperature of the device. He leaned forward head first and using only his tongue he parted the Illynas soft lips. He made sure to explore her folds thoroughly, applying extra saliva for lubrication. Despite the treatment of her body from the earlier beating she reacted positively to his touch releasing more of her womanly juices onto his tongue, she tasted just as any other woman he knew in life but the power he had over her pleasure made the experience all the more delicious, especially since Sylvanas was trying in vain to ignore the same sensations.

When he'd had his fill Arthas placed the device on her engorged clit. He had it at a low setting at first with slight increments every few seconds. Remembering that Sylvanas would need her gag again he used magic to keep the device in place while he returned to his former position. He gave Illyna something scream against while bringing her closer and closer to the edge. Just as she was about to fall over the edge he deactivated the device and pulled it away from her. Illyna grunted angrily and her hips even gyrated in reponse, trying to find the source of her pleasure again. Sylvanas resisted but he wasn't done, he played the game again and again and again.
 
Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner

The sound of the degenerate forces heading towards her made Sylvanas' heart thunder in her breast. She took a deep breath and struggled on despite the strange mix of pain and pleasure ripping through her every fiber. Halfway down the corridor, things started looking dire. She knew that they would enter the door she had come through and see her. Then she felt the air pressure change slightly and her keen elven eyes looked to her left. A small, dark copse, nothing more than a recess in the wall. She licked her dry cracked lips as she made her decision, slightly puzzled by the salty taste that coated them. It must have been a side effect of her time spent unconscious.

Sylvanas had no choice. She slid into the pitiable hiding place just as the heavy door slammed open behind her. As the footsteps came closer, her heart beat came faster. It echoed through her entire body now. She took a deep breath and attempted to steady it. In her several millenia she had faced more dire situations than this. She would make it out, and then she would find and kill Arthas Menethil.

When the first creature passed her by Sylvanas felt a modicum of relief. It walked by without any delay. Perhaps the darkness she was in would protect her. She certainly knew that her natural scent would be nigh undetectable as well; so covered in the filth of the dungeon and the blood of her enemies.

After a cruel moment of relief, something happened. Sylvanas felt an odd pressure against her womanhood. It focused on her hidden pearl and she gasped. If she closed her eyes she would almost be able to imagine that it was Illyna pleasuring her that was. It was a dangerous thought in a hell such as this. She tried to center herself and focus on the present. Normally such carnal desires were easily dismissed by the venerable hunter, but in this case her body was her own worst enemy.

Just when the pleasure mounted and Sylvanas could take no more, it stopped. She felt winded as she braced herself against the walls, her entire body shaking with the disappointment of no release. Even though release would be dangerous- she was surprised that the abominations hadn't heard her rapid shalow breaths- it would have been welcome. Now all that was left was an overbearing throbbing.

One of the goons outside dropped his weapon. He stopped, causing a chain reaction of grunts and grumbles from behind, as he leant over to retrieve it. That discontent silence was when Sylvanas' body cursed her once more. This time, on her pearl, was the most intense sensation of something vibrating against her.

"Oh!" The whispered cry escaped her mouth before she could clamp a hand over it. The creature rose suddenly and looked around. It scratched it's head with a dagger before grunting and moving on.

The vibrating continued but, after the initial shock, Sylvanas had become accustomed to it. It felt good; better than anything she'd ever felt before. It started a build up of pressure that was deeper than anything she'd felt before. She knew that, if she allowed it to build, it would take hold of her and tear her apart. Desperate to stop it, she reached down and cupped her mound. She grasped it tightly, but to no avail. Her pearl continued to throb and she had to turn her face into the wall to muffle her barely-restrained moan.

When her peak crested she held her breath, waiting for the crash of pleasure. Instead she almost cried out in frustration as every sensation stopped. The vibrating stopped, and she was left panting and unsatisfied. Part of her thought that if she could get herself to orgasm, then her body would leave her be.

The tide of enemies had slowed, but the corridor was still in use. So it was that, when Sylvanas attempted to use her own fingers to relieve her tension, she couldn't goan with frustration when she felt nothing. Nothing at all. She couldn't feel her fingers pinching her pearl, nor could she feel it when she slid a finger inside herself. Everything around that area was either numb or throbbing with desperation to be touched.

Sylvanas had barely caught her breath when it began again. The pleasure rose once more and left her hanging at the edge when it stopped. The world outside her recess faded away and all that mattered was trying to relive herself. Her hands roamed her body, pinching and teasing the parts that were still sensitive. Every time she tried to slip a finger into herself or push through a failed orgasm, her nether regions went numb. When she'd lost all sense of time the tears of frustration started squeeze from her tightly shut eyes. Her fingers begun to pinch at her nipples with an agonizing intensity as she tried to distract herself as she slid further and further down the wall that supported her.

Shaking, sweating and curled into a ball, Sylvanas managed to hear something through her shuddering breaths.

Nothing.

The grunts and lumbering footsteps had stopped. There was no sound of weapons clanging or uncouth snorting. Still shaking, she pushed herself towards the corridor and looked out .The was was clear. She had to escape.

And then she felt the vibrating again. This time she couldn't hold back a cry of frustration.

Despite the pleasure, despite the pain, inspired by her frustrations, she got to her feet. Her body was weak and aching, but she had to escape. There was something evil about this place. If she could escape she would be fine, she could go home to her people and forget this nightmare.

Sylvanas stumbled her way to the door and then fell against it, listening through the other side and hearing nothing. She stepped back and opened it with caution, peering through the crack and allowing her eyes to adjust. Now that she was out of her hiding spot she allowed the stretch and flex of her muscles to distract her somewhat from the way her nether regions were torturing her. It wasn't much help, but it was enough.

Sylvanas was blinded as she looked through the door. The organce hues of sunset dazzled her and her soul soared. When her vision caught up she saw that the light was coming from large window that lined the walls. On the far side was a door. Now that she was above the ground, any door could lead to her freedom. She assessed the area and decided that it was empty. The jubilation she felt was enough to allow her to cross the room despite the sexual agony. A few steps away from the door, she could hear commotion behind it. The army that had passed her in the throes of her disorientation was waiting outside there. She could not go that way.

Another assessment of the room revealed a window set into the top of the room that was easily three stories high. The walls were made from rough hewn stone that she knew she could climb, even in her sensitive state.

The climb was torture. The repeated rises and falls in her pleasure mean that the had to take breaks, find time to breath, time to allow her shaking limbs to focus on nothing more than holding her up. When she finally reached the window she opened it with a satisfied grunt and hung her head out. The first thing that hit her was the howling wind, the second was the scent of ash and flame.

The building they she was in was perched atop a forested cliff. At the base of the cliff and down the hill beyond, she could see a field of blackened and burnt trees before the healthy forest took the land into the horizon.

The fall to the ground below the turret was more than she would be able to handle. As she peered around with squinted eyes she saw that the cylindrical shaped building she was in was connected to a squat inner keep by a decrepit wall walk. Even though the forest beyond looked like freedom, she wouldn't be able to reach it safely. The wind that howled meant that she would be hard pressed to descend the tower and the cliff below. Her only option was to make her way to the keep and hope for a better vantage point there.

Sylvanas slipped through the window and then crouched on the ledge, allowing the freezing gale to chill her body and allowed the frigidness to cool her hot skin. She would need to climb around the tower and get to the wall walk. The walk itself was almost gone. The floor crumbled in and revealing layers of building below. The only thing that remained of value was the wall itself.

Naked and at the mercy of the elements, Sylvanas managed to make it to the wall. As she lowered herself onto it her feet almost slipped. Upon closer inspection she realised that it was covered in damp moss. She could try and stand and balance her way to the keep, but it would be too dangerous. Combined with the wind, the moss would most likely see her cast into the depths below. She would have crawled across, but the wall was too narrow to make that a feasable option.

Knowing what she had to do, Sylvanas slid down so that she was straddling the wall, her naked nether regions pressing against the slimy moss and the sharp stone below it. She cried out as her tortured regions rebelled against this treatment. But it was that or death. She had no other option.

With a deep breath and a prayer to the universe, she begun her trip across.

It was agonising. The mix of the pressure tied with the sharp rocks had her panting. It was nowhere near enough to see her pushed over the precipice of desire, but it was enough to enrage the waiting beast inside. As her body moved away from the sheltered peace of the wall, she felt the wind lashing against her body. Parts of her began to sting with the contact, the cold gusts felt like strikes of the whip. As the wind rose and fell, she felt sharp chills run up her skin from toes to thighs, stomach to breasts, and shoulders to finger tips. The wind's lashing and her body's sharp chills sent shock waves to her tortured mound, the pain transforming into a higher plain of pleasure.

Sylvanas found herself almost in tears with desperation. She counted down the feet to the end of the wall.

Sixty feet.

Forty-five.

Thirty.

Fifteen.

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.

The last six were the hardest. Every shuffle came with a tortured gasp and a whispered cure. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

When Sylvanas reached the end she groaned in relief. She slid over to the roof of the keep and collapsed onto the floor. Her hands cupped her mound and buried her head into her shoulder.

She was almost there. She could almost taste it. She couldn't give up yet.
 
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King Arthas Menethil

Arthas found great amusement as both of his little slaves tried to come to terms with each and every failed orgasm. Even though he was poised and ready he didn't gag them in the same way as before, he merely kept the tip of his manhood close to Illyna's mouth and allowed drips of pre-cum to leak onto her mouth.

As soon as Sylvanas tried to pleasure herself he made sure to numb her completely; there would be no self relief for her. She could barely maintain her control as she made it all the way to the top of the tower and out into the cold wind. The day only offered a light breeze but Arthas had more in mind, he relinquished his former position and retrieved a new implement from his bag.

This device wasn't magical but it could deliver overwhelming sensations if used correctly. It had a small handle connected to a small perpendicular cylindrical rolling pin, tiny spikes covered the rounded surface and when used on a victims skin it could produce small pinprick like sensations.

Trading the paddle for this new tool he used the whip to batter her body and the rolling pin the sensitise her body even more. Sylvanas maintained her composure but he could sense her mind slowly caving. He watched with great satisfaction as she curled into a ball trying to keep out everything he attacked her with.

Arthas pulled the vibrating crystal away from Illyna's clit. She sighed in both relief and anguish. Sylvanas used this moment to gather her strength and crawl onward. Arthas allowed her a short moment of reprieve, he even loosened the nipple clamps a few notches. He brought the crystal to Illyna's mouth and forced it down her throat, making sure that her juices had been completely cleaned off. After he was satisfied Arthas took another look into his bag, he retrieved an arms length wooden cane.

By this stage Sylvanas was on her feet and hobbling away, Arthas took a big swing and collided the cane with Illyna's back. She screamed out in pain and Sylvanas fell forward. As soon as she tried to right herself again Arthas struck her again. She seemed determined to continue on against the abuse and Arthas was almost impressed. Almost.

He struck her feet, shins and calves until she was on her hands and knees again. When Sylvanas tried to get up he would assault Illyna until she stayed down, when she stopped moving her gave Illyna a mighty whack on the backside to get her moving again. Satisfied with his training Arthas continued with the torture. He tightened the clamps on Illyna's nipples again and set them to the maximum tension.

He positioned himself at Illyna's open legs and with the newly lubricated crystal he edged it slowly into her anus. She resisted of course but Arthas had faith in his training, he used his cane on her thighs and until she opened up to him although the crystal wasn't as large as his cock it was still enough to bring tears to their eyes.


 
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Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner

There was a moment, after crossing the wall, that Sylvanas thought she was fine. Even through her body was still shaking with the exertion, perspiration glittering on her pale skin, but no untoward sensations.

She was wrong.

An odd taste filled her mouth before she felt a strike land on her back. Sylvanas toppled forward with a grunt, and turned to look over her shoulder. Once more it was a phantom pain, its source unknown, but real enough to bring tears to her eyes. The pain reminded her of the caning that she used to receive as a youngling; sharp, quick and utterly absorbing. Just like when she was a child being punished for a minor misgiving, she struggled to her feet. This time she was sent sprawling again as her traitorous body once more erupted in agony.

Sylvanas felt the sensation spreading now, down to her calves and thighs, her behind and her back. She tried to remain as quiet as possible, knowing that she was still in very real danger, but that meant she had to do whatever she could to lessen the pain. Her limbs struggled apart, hoping to spread the pain. Though in her attempt to alleviate herself, something more alarming happened. At first it was a slight pressure against her rear entrance, but after a moment of surprise she was invaded. A foreign fullness settled upon her, and then the same strange buzzing that had happened against her womanhood.

Sylvanas, on her hands and knees, being assaulted by her own body, realized that she had to keep moving. If it wasn't this place that was cursed, it was her. She needed to get out of her and find safety, find some place with a healer who could cure her blasted ailments.

Each step was a struggle. The feeling in her rear end was intensified by a pressure in her nipples and the unsatisfied throbbing on her nub. Sylvanas attempted to use her surroundings as a distraction; the pain was tolerable if there was an end in sight. She could make it through the next stinging pain if she could get to that door, to the other end of the corridor, down the winding stairs.

As Sylvanas made it to one of the lower levels of the keep she found some sense of relief as a sense of pressure settles over her pearl. It was sharp, pinching even, but that didn't matter. Anything was better than the throbbing. At least until her orgasm began to build. With all of the sensations it was impossible to keep quiet, restrained mewls escaped from her lips, traitorously sweet.

Her body collapsed against the cold stair cases as all sensations ceased. Her world was suddenly void of all alien feelings, and she was filled with a sense of dread. Now instead of thinking that things were over, she knew that this was just a temporary reprieve. In a way the uncertainty of what was coming next was worse than the constant pain. At least, when it was there, she knew what was happening.

Still, her resolve held. As every fiber of her being hummed with the need for release, she continued through the vast building. It was cold in the stone walls of the keep. They were deserted, and a frigid breeze was whistling through crumbling mortar and broken bricks. Then, in an instant, there was something much worse than the cold. All down her back, Sylvanas felt a burning trail. It felt wet at first, but then the burning areas felt hardened, and the pain took several more moments to abate. Then, it was over, but only to be replaced by a stroking feeling of something so cold it ached. When the two temperatures were contrasasted it was sheer torment. Her body didn't have time to adjust, and as she walked through the corridors her limbs didn't know whether to shiver or sweat. To make it worse, these temperatures sometimes spread over her breasts, her hips and her womanhood. it made it hard to focus.

By the time she reached the bottom level Sylvanas was bone-tired and weary. She knew that she only had a short amount of time before her body completely gave in, but it wasnt sleep she wanted. It wasn't sleep that wevery pore craved. It was relief. Sweet relief. She was wound so tight at that moment that she almost didn't care if death found her; it would be a welcome relief from the torture she was going through.

In her strangely addled state, she didn't notice the army of crypt fiends and abominations until it was almost too late. She stopped just before she reached the corner and gasped as her body was run over once more with the feeling of burning. She then ducked back into the corridor from which she came, amidst the scraping and chittering of the foul creatures, and saw a door just to her left. From behind the door was silence, but it was heavy and thick and could be hiding all manner of sins. If she went through that door, she didn't know what she was getting into. But if she stayed she kenw exactly what she would have to face.

In this instance, she welcomed the ucnertainty. She pushed open the door and slipped through, shutting it behind her.

When her eyes adjusted to the different light, she gasped in shock.
 
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King Arthas Menethil

Arthas was proud of his work, Illyna and Sylvanas were on the verge of breaking now and responded perfectly to him subtle commands. He stood back a moment to observe the way they writhed in pain and pleasure as two crystals hummed away happily. Illyna had her legs as wide as they would go and Sylvanas crawled on all fours like a wounded kitten.

When they approached climax again he removed the crystal on Illyna's clit, another sigh of frustration followed but Arthas didn't give her time to recover he took her engorged pearl and pinched it between the coldness of his fingers. She barely noticed the change in sensations so he leaned forward, grasp the nub of flesh in his teeth and bit down. This time she noticed and even Sylvanas cried out in shock.

Opting for a change Arthas removed the remaining crystal from her backside and released the nipple clamps completely. He retrieved a candle from the corner of the room, with his enhanced sight he didn't need the light to see anymore but this had a different purpose. He poured the dripping wax over the length of Illynas body, starting at her breasts the wax dripped onto her naked form she shied away from its scalding touch but there was no escape. Just as her body became used to the heat he cast an icy touch spell on his hands and massaged the length of her body.

Sylvanas was so confused she nearly ran into a group of his troops, he'd placed them strategically to lead her right where he wanted.

The door to his torture room opened and a completely naked barely coherent high elf with a nasty scar in her midsection stood at the entrance. To say that her face was filled with shock and dread would be an understatement and Arthas couldn't help but smile widely.

"I'm so glad you could join us General, Illyna and I were begging to think you wouldn't make it."

Once he mentioned the name of her lover she immediately rushed forward Arthas pointed one hand toward Illyna and sent out tendrils of pain in her direction, she screamed out brilliantly filling the room with her song of despair. Normally Sylvanas would have felt the pain too but to prove a point Arthas cut the connection and held his other hand out to stop her mid stride, he didn't need magic to stop her.

"Uh uh uh. It would be a shame if something terrible happened to our little friend here because of your negligence."

Before Sylvanas could respond Arthas stopped his spell, returned the connection, reached over and lightly stroked Illyna's inner thigh.

"And we wouldn't want that would we General?"
 
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