Mythilus could always appreciate Nagrand. True, the flight there was boring, through HellfirePeninsula and TerokkarForest, but Nagrand was a land to behold; floating islands and greenery abound. The note had said to meet her on the highest peak, and signed in the flourishing hand of someone called Kalenjo. Not a Kal'Dorei name, that was for sure. Mythilus landed her winged guardian and dismounted. Better to climb atop the mountain than fly up. Not as noticeable if a shady character was watching. Mythilus took off her helm, letting a waterfall of turquoise hair fall down her back, and began to climb the mountain. Beads of sweat formed and dripped down her cheek, her brow creased in exertion. When she reached the summit, she tossed back her hair from sticking to her lavender skin and glanced around. Standing stoic, handsome, on top the peak was a Draenei. His long, scaled tail flicking nervously, betraying the calm stance. Paladin's armour enhanced his thickly muscled shoulders, and a golden fox-tail pulled his long hair back from his face and crest. Mythilus cleared her throat and stepped forward. The Draenei turned and stopped Mythilus in her tracks. His gaze was charming, his demeanor proud. 'Greetings, friend,' he said, rolling his 'r's', I am Kalenjo of the Light, protection paladin of the Naaru.' Mythilus was not sure if his name was a title such as her own, or just a way of introducing herself, so she stepped forward to stand by his side and whispered, 'You already know who I am.'
Kalenjo did not look at her, his stature dwarfing even that of the night elf. 'I have seen you, Kingslayer, in Stormwind, and wondered what a wanderer such as yourself would find in a human city.'
He turned suddenly and Mythilus found herself inches away from his chest, gazing up into those pale eyes, his expression curious. She could not help it. Mythilus shed her shoulder armour, cape and gloves, and ran a slender, bare hand over the gleaming ivory and gold plate. She gasped a bit as Kalenjo enveloped her hand with his own, and brought it to his mouth to plant a small kiss. 'The legend of the Kal'dorei beauty is true, you are much more muscular, much more…steadfast than Draenei women. And everybody knows a Draenei man loves an exotic woman.' He pronounced the name of his people as 'Dran-eye', as opposed to the assumption of Mythilus's pronunciation, 'Drain-eye'. She did not know why, or how, but somehow the warrior's chin was lifted to Kalenjo's face, and felt his warm lips upon hers, his hand still clasped over her own.
His own boldness startled him. This must have been what his mentor, Arebeth, had spoken of when she had nicknamed him "Ladykiller". Even in this pristine area of Nagrand, his homeland, nothing compared to the beauty of her race, commonly known as 'Night Elves', but particularly this woman. It was like the strongest dwarven ale, of which he had been goaded into sampling, the way she affected Kalenjo, even from afar. Heady, giddy, confident. She tasted of wine, perhaps he had distracted her from a celebration. Her lips full and moist as he lightly nibbled her lower lip. Pulling away her eyes met his and he stood up straight. "I believe my intentions are clear." He stated in his baritone voice, a lopsided grin cracking his stoic features.
Mythilus drew away from the strange passion and lust of the kiss. Her, the Night Elves' greatest heroine, becoming lost in the kiss of not only a Draenei, but a champion of the Light nonetheless. Would Elune refuse blessing for her tryst with Kalenjo? She decided she didn't care. 'I believe my intentions are clear.' Said he, a lopsided grin cracking onto his handsome features. Mythilus smiled and put her hands on his cheeks; strangely smooth and unscarred - a remnant of the healing magic that tied Paladin to weapon. As she touched him, she had to raise up a bit on her toes to reach him to kiss him again, and her chestpiece rose on her stomach a small bit, letting Kalenjo's fingers slip onto her bare skin. He felt a long indentation of a scar and drew away from her. Mythilus looked hurt, confused. Was he going to leave her hanging like this? Aching for his kiss, for his sex? Kalenjo's fingers worked gracefully around her armour until it slipped from her body. Pale lavender skin stretched over taut muscles, violet nipples standing to attention in the cool breeze atop the peak. The scar started from his left of her navel, and ran diagonally over to her right side before disappearing under her greaves. Kalenjo kneeled and pulled Mythilus' hand, indicating to do the same. She did. He gently pushed her back onto the grass that grew atop the mountain and slipped her boots and greaves off, revealing her whole naked beauty. He ran his fingers along the scar which traveled down her right thigh, stopping just above the knee. 'Illidan..' Mythilus whispered, and he knew. In the raging battle against Illidan Stormrage, the Archdruid's own brother, had this injury been inflicted. Kalenjo removed his own armour, blonde hair pulled from its' tie, his thick penis standing already erect in the presence of the beautiful elf. Mythilus, too, felt the warm wetness of lust between her thighs. He stood on his hands and knees over her, looking straight through her eyes as he pushed the head of his penis against her warm cunt. She gasped as suddenly, she opened to fit him, and he slid right to the hilt inside the exotic creature, turquoise and blonde hair intertwined, as their bodies were.
Her lower lips parted to accept him, herself just as eager for the feeling as he. Slowly Kalenjo thrusted, feeling Mythilus' hips rise to feel sensations in specific areas of her canal. He leant down, took one of her violet, sensitive nipples into his mouth and gently sucked while running his front teeth over the erotic purple nubs. Her breath quickened as he began to thrust a little faster and her body attempted to keep up with the pace. He released her nipple from his grip to come up next to her ear and whispered with all the honey of his voice, "Beauty is having the scars but learning to love them as part of yourself because of the lesson they taught, yet you outshine any mar you could ever endure." Once again he slowed down, wishing to feel every inch, muscle and curve of this beautiful creature as he took his time. His large hands were extremely gentle, lightly running over her breasts, through her hair, over Mythilus' flushed face, down over her torso and rib to her flat, toned stomach... where the scar began.
Mythilus gasped as Kalenjo's hands hovered above her scar. The emotional pain was a burden to carry, and made it as though every touch, every remembrance brought physical pain to her. She brought her hands up to clasp the Draenei's shoulders; she did not ever want to let go. It seemed every lesson her people had taught about love was wrong. And who would have thought the peaceful Army of the Light, the Draenei, were capable of giving such pleasure. She bit on her lower lip and whimpered as she felt the first waves of orgasm building in her lions. Mythilus dug her nails in like claws, leaving marks upon the smooth azure-skinned shoulders. Kalenjo felt the orgasm building within his companion, pure and unbridled, and ran his hand onto her thigh, bringing the flexible leg up over his shoulders, allowing himself deeper penetration into the elf. He let out a low, animalistic growl as he pushed into her, wanting to feel her muscles tightening around him as she came, feel every bit of erotic pain and pleasure as she would toss beneath him. He never thought himself much a lover, but this woman seemed to bring out something primal within him, a deep sense to bring them together in sex. Mythilus reached up and nibbled on his earlobe, whispering breathily, 'I have never felt anything such as thiiiissss...' the last word was drawn out as her orgasm overcame her. Mythilus near screamed in pure pleasure, feeling her pelvic muscles pumping Kalenjo's cock, trying to pull the orgasm from him as well. Mythilus moaned and scratched down her lover's back, leaving long welts. As her orgasm faded, Kalenjo pushed himself onto her, his body rubbing against her clit and she came again, more forceful, tugging his hair and her raised leg twitching as her muscles submitted to the pleasure.
Her moans and cries shattered every mental defence Kalenjo had in place. His own loins girded of their own volition, preparing for the release of his seed. Mythilus' writhing and spasming cunt massaged his rod as he continued to pump in and out, ever increasing the pressure at the base of his shaft. Moving a hand to her hip and ribcage to support her, Kalenjo lifted the lighted Kal'Dorei woman from to ground so he was standing and she was mid-air. Thrusting his full length into her, the sensations grew unto the climax, as her insides wrapped around his cock in another heart-stopping orgasm. Grunting with the pleasure, Kalenjo slammed his penis in, in time with the release of pressure and the spilling of his seed. Continually pulling out a little and forcefully pushing back in as another wave overcame him again and again, he stared at the sweaty, exasperated, pleasured face of Mythilus, the Kal'dorei warrior, who had captured his lust. "It seems my intentions are spent," came his harsh voice in between breaths, "for now." He finished, with a cock of his head to the left. He gently placed her down on the ground, on top of where his cape had fallen and stretched out. His eyes turned skyward to the twisting nether above as his cock began to droop from the exertion. "Pleasure is like Righteousness, Dear Mythilus. If only everyone could live in it forever," He paused as he turns his grinning face back towards her, "All would be right with the world."
'Please,' Mythilus breathed, 'please let me see you again.' She was panting, her stamina exhausted for the first time in her life. Kalenjo, champion of the Light, had conquered the warrior. Lain her down and used every drop of energy she could give him. Her cunt would never be the same; she doubted if Shadewell would notice. Not that it mattered; she wanted only Kalenjo inside of her now. Forget druids and their silly speeches of balance and wellbeing. Wellbeing was here, with her equal, a passionate incarnation of everything she had idealised in a mate. Tall, handsome, broad-shouldered. Strong and able to tame her like a wild beast. Kalenjo stepped forward and took her hands in his and held them close to his heart. 'For you, my dear, I will be here always,' His eyes crinkled in a smile, he kissed her hands and began to replace his armour, handing the elf her own to dress. Armoured to the hilt again, axe by her side and shield at her back, Mythilus watched Kalenjo dress in his silent and graceful way, odd for someone of his size. Mythilus was seven feet tall. To think this Draenei was at least a head taller and yet could move with the wind and spirits, was nigh on impossible. But his skilled hands worked the clasps of the plate, connecting it all until his proud demeanor returned with his armour. They locked eyes for a minute and Mythilus stepped forward quickly to press herself into his chest and kiss him passionately, the taste of him lingering on her lips long after they parted. She hoped he would keep his word, for she would never admit it, but Sentinel Mythilus Stormrunner, the Kingslayer, champion of the Kal'dorei, was falling in love.