Her morning was spent running errands for the gnomes at the Fizzcrank Airstrip, but it was growing closer to noon. Oh, so close. Zydien patted her steed as she returned the goods from her last assignment.
"Good day to you!" called the pink haired gnome, counting her goods.
"And the same to you, friend!" she cried back, in the middle casting her hearthstone.
Soon she found herself back in Stormwind, at the Cathedral of Light. 'Why am I here? Why must I let him torture me this way...but his torture is …glorious at times.' She greeted Thomas, the altar boy, with a wave, and began her way towards the entryway to the catacombs, but she heard someone's voice.
"Zydien? Why are you back so soon, priestess," Archbishop Benedictus asked, "Were you not here a day before?"
"..Yes, Archbishop," She paused, moving toward the archway, "but I must have a word with Brother Crowley."
"I see, well, let me not keep you, child." He murmured, staring at her back.
Her mind raced as she walked quietly down the winding spiral pathway. The walls were alight by torches, the stone dark beneath her feet. Her cloth boots made a soft thud upon the masonry, and the smell of musty air slowly filled her nostrils. The path became dim in the light and the ceiling dove to a few feet above her head. Her mind was full of tense thoughts...
"What am I doing? He is such an unbelievable beast, either in the cot or by his words. I should not desire him so, such a despicable man, what right does he have to control me as if I were a hunter's pet?" She growled to herself, her voice a whisper in the darkness.
The cramp pathway opened into a small chamber, usually Brother Crowley, a member of the Scarlet Crusade Emissary would be in residence here. However, at the first glace, the room was empty of anything save for a few tables and another exit across the space, leading deeper into the catacombs. She became pallid as she noticed the iron maiden slightly ajar at the back of the room. As a child, she had feared these catacombs, ghosts and ghouls invaded her nightmares. But now the only fear she held was to see some forgotten corpse, rotting away in the malicious trap.
She felt a tight clasp on her arm and gasped, turning to meet gray-green eyes. His features betrayed his thoughts, his lips turned up in delight. He slammed her hard against the stone pillar he had hid behind, holding her hips tight with his dark hands. The stone was cold against her back, rough, his lips were like fire dancing upon her neck.
"B-Brother Crowley might return soon, what if he sees us in this fashion, has some demon possessed you?" Zydien whispered heatedly, the fear of being discovered stifled her desire.
"At this time of day, Crowley is at the pub, drinking in excess of his favorite Dwarven stout." He snorted, pressing his already rigid manhood against her, "He is far from a good man of the cloth."
"Well, it seems a plague has stricken this cathedral, so few of those good men left," Zydien groaned, her eyes fluttering closed.
"This isn't the time to be attacking me, girl," he whispered, biting her ear, "I see that you wantonly traveled here on your own accord, thinking of the heated moment we could share. Look at the position you put yourself in."
"I find myself seduced by the scum that is you!" She snapped, pushing his shoulders in an attempt to distance herself.
"Scum, ey? I do not recall your moans conveying such distaste for me a few nights ago," he smiled, "But I do agree, why do we find ourselves here? Passion? Desire?...Hm? Is it your wish to be dominated by me, priestess?"
"I refuse to be your plaything Benjamin, not only is it wrong in morale but an insult to my character, as well!" Zydien snapped, sliding by him, toward the dusky ramp.
"But dear girl," he laughed wholeheartedly, leaning against the pillar with his arm folded, "I was attempting to show you your worth, have you not discovered it by now?"
"My Worth!" She called, turning sharply to face him, "That has been your intention? To drag my mind and arousal through such distasteful means in order to discover my...my potential? You're mad!"
"Quite right," He smiled, standing before her, his had moving toward her face, "Still you believed your potential to be lacking after enduring so much practice while your power and skills rose far above what is expected and required. Your doubt has led you to ignore your status as a priestess. But now, it has changed, all because of this plan. A few moments ago you proved to yourself that self respect is still within your heart. I believe it was genius!"
"Hardly!" tears clouded her vision; the thought that he only did such things as a lesson was simply humiliating.
"Shush," his hand graced her cheek; her eyes were downcast, away from his, "Other methods have failed on you, Zydien."
"Failed methods, my arse," she jerked away from him, "get your forsaken claws off of me."
She ran up the dim stairs before he could say another word, Brother Benjamin remained, startled by her sudden flight.
"Running again, I see!" He called after her, with frustration.
The mead running down her throat was a bit stronger than she could handle, however, it hadn't stopped her before. A band of off duty Stormwind guards thundered into the tavern, laughter and rough voices filled the air of the Blue Recluse. She hoped by avoiding the Pig and Whistle she would miss the normal crowd of guards and the blasted pervert Bartleby. However, luck had not been on her side this day.
"Another, Brenlow," Zydien sighed, twisting her chair a little more to the right, hoping to be ignored, sadly, that was not successful...
"A round of bourbon for my boys, Brenlow!" Officer Brady laughed heartily, "nothing more relaxing than a bit of drink after a nice days work, aye?"
"Yes Cap'ain!" The three young men in plate mail called in unison, saluting in a mock gesture before they burst into laughter.
"So how is that Jenn Langston treating you, Hammon?" Officer Jaxon asked, a smirk on his mug.
"Just as well as any lass," Hammon answered dully, his face a mask of dread, but he perked up when he noticed the auburn haired girl near the bar,"Say, isn't that Zealous Zydien?"
"Believe it be true!" Officer Jaxon yelled, strutting toward her like an arrogant cock," And how are you, milady? Bed anyone else as of late?"
His breath smelled of sour milk, her nose crinkled as she spoke, "No, Jaxon, now don' you have some livestock to guard? Or have you yet been demoted to shoveling muck left behind by horse drawn carriages in the streets?"
"Shut your filthy mouth, you common whore,"His brow furled, his neck flushed with anger.
"Come now, Jaxon," Quine put his hand on Jaxon's shoulder, attempting to distract him, "Lets enjoy a worg steak and leave the girl-"
"-Common whore?" Zydien asked sarcastically, her eyes half shut,"Difficult to call someone such when they have yet to sleep with the likes of you."
"Wench!" He growled, his hand drawn back.
A quick movement halted Jaxon's wrist, startling him. A draenei stood there, in full plate mail, with a sour look upon her face.
"And who do you call a wench, little human?" She laughed with a wicked grin, her blue hair was up in a leather strip, waving as her head moved.
"Hands off me, damned animal," He growled, barely containing the strength to jerk his hand out of her grasp,"this girl is none of your concern."
"Ha! Is this true priestess?" the draenei asked, uninterested in the answer, her eyes still on Jaxon, "Shall I leave you to these three men?"
Zydien stared glumly in her direction, taking another long sip from her stein. Her mind became hazy, and without much effort, her attempts to care about the situation faded. Her eyes cast downward, lazily tracing the wood grains in the table.
"So... Zydien needs all the help she can get, 'ey boys?" Hammon laughed uneasily, attempting to diffuse the tense situation.
Zydien snorted, nothing else could possibly worsen this day, let alone some vigilante. She looked upon the draenei's face, her brow was smooth, untouched by the normal lines of worry and stress, her eyes were intense, more so than any draenei she had encountered. There was a sense of familiarity about her, but Zydien's clouded memories failed her. Jaxon glared at his opposition, her grin widened further. The woman's posture loosened, hand on her axe, displaying the signs of eagerness to battle.
"If you do not hold the will to back up such words then be gone, you coward," She laughed, shooing him away with a sweep of her hand.
"If I were on duty, I'd.."He mumbled something unheard and stomped up the side stairs to the upper level of the tavern. His two friends followed him sheepishly, Hammon's eyes constantly on the feral woman.
"It a habit of savin' people who ..do'n need yer 'elp?" Zydien hiccupped, unimpressed, her world becoming a bit woozier than when she began her drink.
"All for a good fight, priestess," The stranger replied, "Bartender, a bottle of your finest pinot noir."
She flipped a silver coin at Brenlow, he caught it briskly and tossed a grey bottle to her open hand. She uncorked it with the long fingernail of her thumb and took a large swig. The draenei slammed down into the seat beside Zydien, her armor clanged loudly. Zydien winced at the noise and upturned her mug against her lips, finishing off her third mug of mead.
"I know ya or...," Zydien sighed, her finger clumsily danced around the rim of her bronze mug, "yer remindin' me of some-une..."
"From the looks of it, so many have saved your arse," She laughed," I'm sure they have begun to blend together."
"Why 're so many dem..damned.. people determin' to hav' such foul spir'ts..."Zydien grumbled, getting up from her chair, her world began to spin, "Add me drink to me tab, will ye..-hic- Bren..low?"
"Wait a moment human, I meant no hard by my words," She said offhandedly, taking another drink, "I am named Scai the Hallowed, a fearless guard of those who are willing..and able to pay the gold...well, I was, now I have hit a dry spell...Come to think of it, that gnome still owes me 24 gold coins..."
"A dry spell, 'ey?," Zydien slurred, tilting to the left, then right, "So...T'at be why yer lookin' at me then?...Savin' me arse fer a bit a' coi-"
Zydien's legs buckled, Scai quickly jumped up from her chair to catch the girl, who fell hard into her arms. The bottle of pinot noir crashed to the ground, shattering on the wood floor. Scai watched as its dark juices ran into the wood grains. The sound of the broken glass had caused the barkeep to look up.
"That is it! Get OUT of my tavern, Hellions!" Brenlow yelled in frustration, throwing a loaf of week old bread at the duo.
The sound of laughter erupted from the second floor balcony overlooking rest of the tavern, Jaxon and his fellow guards were finding the situation quite hilarious.
"Zealous Zydien is even too much for you to handle, draenei!" Hammon laughed, the others joining in his spirits.
"Go to the outland where ye belong you filthy demons!" the deathknight screamed, and then spat on the ground before her.
"Go back to your home world you bizarre animal, no one wants your kind here!" Jaxon growled, throwing a bitten apple at her back. It missed completely as it smashed on the wall as she left the tavern.
'Damned the luck...'Scai thought as she bounced the girl upward to find a better grip,'of all the cursed taverns to enter...' The woman in her arms coughed hard into the deathknights chest, Scai looked down upon her face. Zydien's lips were parted, soft groans erupted from them. The dark circles under her closed eyes appeared to be a regular feature upon her face. Her skin looked soft...supple. The death knight's eyes trailed down, her breasts rose and fell softly. The human's skin was the pallid color of a full moon, coveted and rare in a draenei's race. Her body called to the young, indigo-haired guard, pleading to be touched.