Camp outside of Westfall

"Captain Theldion, the new recruits are here."

"Good. I'll be there in a second."

The Night Elf hunter looked at the group of soldiers whom he had requested to help keep the invading enemies at bay, there were only about 10. He shook his head, times were hard. Well, he would have to make due. The group was mostly fledgling humans, as would be expected, as they were in human territory. Beside that, there were 2 well-trained Dwarf soldiers and 1 Night Elf rogue. He called to one of his assistants to refresh their barracks list, but he received no answer. Sighing, he got out a quill and the list. He would have to do it himself. "Make a line, please. Dwarfs first, the Elf next, and then the humans." There was nothing special in the group; they would all just make good foot soldiers, except the Dwarfs and the lone Elf. As soon as he thought he was finished, the last member of the arrivals came. A female warlock, mounted on her felsteed. He had never particularly liked warlocks, or humans for that matter. "You're late." He spoke adding a bit of curt into his voice.

"I'm never late, elf. I come when I please." She said with a smirk playing on her lips.

"I would advise you to watch your tongue, soldier."

"Watch who you're talking to, Captain." She almost spit at him

"Just so you know," she gave him a fake smile, "I've been assigned Co-Captain. The Force didn't think you were doing your job well enough, they said you didn't reach your monthly number of Horde kills.

"How do I know this is true? Warlocks are born to lie."

She laughed at him haughtily, "I never lie, unless I have to."

She then pulled out a document which had the official Alliance leaders seal on it from Stormwind City. He cursed under his breath as she cantered away into camp, towards his tent. Which he supposed was their tent now…

About an hour later, he decided to retire. Night was falling, and tomorrow they were planning on attacking a group of about 100 of Horde which had been reported 3 days ago by his scout, apparently camped outside of Westfall. Her felsteed was outside of the tent, not even tethered. But then again, it wasn't a beast of this world and she had complete control over it he guessed. He winced when he saw that it was eating the decaying corpse of a forest wolf. As he passed it blew fire out it's nostrils at him, but it recoiled as thought it has been slapped.

"Sorry about that, he isn't too friendly…" she said to him with a small apologetic smile.

"It's fine." He replied curtly, he was still angry.

He saw that she had made a small pallet for herself on the floor of the tent, on the opposite wall as his, which he guessed was good manners on her part.

"You know, you don't have to sleep in furs if you want…I can get you a cot." He said, trying to sound more friendly.

"Oh no, it's fine. I'm happy with my pallet" She smiled at him, "I'm sorry I spoke to you like that, let's start over. What's your name?"

"Theldion Moonfeather." Maybe she wasn't as bad she seemed. "And yours, m'lady?"

She smiled at him and laughed, "Don't call me lady, I am no lady. My name is Gwenyfar."

"Well, Miss Gwenyfar, I'm going to go bathe. I shall be back later, make yourself comfortable."

He was easy to manipulate, she noticed. All you needed to do was be respectful and kind and he treated you in the like. Taking his position would be easy if she played her cards correctly. Going to the camp merchant, she asked for 6 bolts of the finest linen he possessed, and some red dye. "But…Captain Gwenyfar…we need that for the soldiers…" he tried to protest against this wasteful purchase, she had fine clothes.

"Silence! Do not tell me no, merchant! I shall pay you back in full with wool bolts next raid. For now, take these 5 golds and keep your mouth shut, or you shall face my full fury." She yelled at him. His lip trembling from fear, he gave her what she wished. Summoning 3 undead servants, she ordered them to create her a tight fitting nightgown, and in less than 15 minutes, and to wash it so no dye stained her skin. While waiting, she gathered herbs to give him…well-placed…dreams that night, and a bit of something to put in his meal. 15 minutes later, she nodded, pleased with their work. With a bolt of fire, she sent them back to whence she conjured them. She started a fire, and quickly put some stew in a caldron to feed him. She got dressed, and was quite pleased the results. It was low cut, tight around the chest and middle to a corset like style, complete with hooks in the back. The skirt part flowed out down to her knees. She purposely left 3 of the hooks undone.

Walking into the tent, he was pleasantly surprised to find a soup cooking, and to his

embarrassment, a very seductive looking Gwenyfar. Her dark cherry colored hair was down now, flowing around her shoulders, framing those same colored eyes. And when had she gotten changed? Was this her bed clothing? If it was…was he going to be tortured for as long as she slept in the same tent as him. Still, she had that horrible ambiance of evil around her like any warlock.

She stood up, smiled and said "How was your bath? Are you hungry?"

"It was good, thank you. And yes, I am hungry." He said. Something had changed in her.

"Here…" she handed him a bowl of what he now knew to be a thick stew.

As he ate, it had a strange taste to it. Not unpleasant, sweetish. Just an herb or spice he had never tasted.

"Gwenyfar, what spice did you put in this stew? I don't think I've ever had it." He asked

"Oh, just some peacebloom, I'm a herbalist you know." She replied absent-mindedly

"Peacebloom? I've never heard of putting that in food before. Doesn't it have healing qualities?"

"Yes, it does. It's usually a required part of any army First Aid station. Rub it in the wounds to clean and help heal." She wasn't really an herbalist, but she did know that much about peacebloom.

When he finished, he was for some reason getting extremely aroused. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her, those sultry pouty lips, the milk white skin...

She could see him staring at her, the new desire in his eyes. The herbs were working. She got up to gather the bowls, when he handed her his, she made sure to brush her hand against his. She saw his lips part a little.

"Gwenyfar...Y-your dress is undone a little." He croaked out

"I know, I just had this made, and I can't reach that far."

"I will…hook it for you." He said

Theldion! Get a hold of yourself! You can't be attracted to her! You are Elf, she is human! Think of how your kin would react! This is madness! He knew this was all true, he was beginning to believe he was going mad. But, for some reason it didn't matter. All he knew was desire for her right now. He hadn't lain in a woman's arms for so long…

He swallowed hard as he approached her from behind, moving her hair away onto her shoulder. Why was he doing this…he couldn't believe himself…but he couldn't help himself. That pallid flesh, just begging to be tasted. Before he even got the chance, she turned around, practically touching.

This is moving faster than I expected. He must be desperate. I thought wrong…I thought that because Elves do not delve into pleasures of the flesh as humans do, that he would take more time to seduce. It's going just the opposite, though. Or maybe I just used too much herbs…Damn! I have to stop this before it goes too far. The time is not right. She had to think quickly.

"Theldion…" she said softly

"Yes…" his voice breathy

He could see her leaning up to him, slowly…waiting for a reaction. He grabbed it with both hands. Throwing his arms around her waist, quieting her voice with a smoldering kiss.

She could hear his heart thudding in his chest, his blood flow quickening. This passion was making her want to give into it, and throw her plans out the window and fuck him right here. No, make it memorable, leave him wanting more. His tongue was outlining her lips, asking for entrance to deepen their kiss. She bit it gently, he groaned softly as she retreated away.

"Goodnight, Theldion." She was surprised to hear her own voice thick with lust. She could see disappointment and longing in the lines of his face as she walked away and laid down on her pallet.

Two can play that game, warlock… He turned his back to her, and removed his leather vest, and the long sleeved shirt underneath it.

Gods, he had an amazing body. He was built like a damned farm horse. With each movement, you could see his muscles flex and recoil. His upper arm could be compared to two of her thighs. His hands got to his belt…no, he wouldn't. She knew she had him under the influence but…Ah, he had another pair underneath of thin linen. She couldn't see anymore. She turned around in her pallet so she was now facing the wall. He wouldn't tempt her.