The Romancer Opalbane

Episode Sixteen: Escape from Stormwind, Part II: A deadly libido

When Opalbane felt Alessandre curl up against her she came alive. A powerful heat washed through the woman and her eyes flew open in the dim cabin. Five tiny blue flames flickered in warning, but the person who needed to see the alarm was fast asleep.

Opalbane lifted a trembling arm to the blue candles. With a jolt, she flashed her fingers open at the tiny flames and put them out. Next, Opalbane watched in the near darkness as her white hand began to smolder. The priestess' shadowform flared at her fingertips then consumed her entire arm. Opalbane liked the feel of her old self returning as the shadow armor consumed her entire body. She grinned wickedly.

But there was something else she was hungry for too.

The force of pleasure that woke Alessandre was so intense and surprising that he slammed his free hand flat against the headboard to steady himself.

"What… are you doing to me?" he struggled to catch his breath.

Opalbane grabbed Alessandre's thighs with hungry clawed fingertips and pressed her backside tighter against him. It was like they were in the saddle again, except there was no saddle.

"There is no danger now, Al… what are we waiting for?" her voice was desperate with need.

Alessandre blinked a few times, trying to check if he heard Opalbane right. The delicate virgin he was used to now sounded like a feral nightsaber in heat.

"We still need to get to… unnh." Alessandre lost track of his thought. He sighed happily and moved his free arm from around Opalbane's waist to caress her shoulder.

Alessandre began to ask Opalbane why she was acting so strangely, but when he saw the five extinguished manaburn candles the problem became obvious. Maybe Opalbane wasn't asking to go back to Priest Benactus again, but she sounded exactly the same as when they were going through the mountain pass. Again, Alessandre worried that his fel mana was making it harder on Opalbane than it needed to be. No pun intended, of course.

"Five manaburn candles aren't enough to drain your mana? There were at least twenty in your room, but I didn't think it mattered… I couldn't carry that many anyway!" the rogue balked.

"It doesn't matter, Al…" Opalbane's voice lowered until he almost couldn't hear her. Alessandre had to strain to catch traces of her sultry tone and the work it took to hear the dirty things she was saying turned him on even more. "…I just want you, that's all." She finally said clearly. "You saved me, love. Now the mission is over, and we can finally be together."

Opalbane was wrong. Alessandre knew full well that there was a great deal more to be done before the month was out, and he was running out of time. Aside from the long mental list of Twilight Cultists who needed to be assassinated by month's end, there was also that Blood Elf Faltheriel and his thugs… recalling Faltheriel now almost ruined the feel of Opalbane's warm backside pressing firmly into him.

"Oh, Moonlily," Alessandre moaned softly and kissed the back of Opalbane's neck. "We can't. Not now… I have to stay alert, and there is so much left that I must do for Master Rogue Shadowstep."

But Opalbane was lost in her own world. Only the sound of Alessandre's voice reached her, the meaning of his many good explanations fleeting. The gently throbbing intimate tone Alessandre used when they were romantic made the priestess flush with excitement.

Opalbane continued to press into her hesitant bodyguard until Alessandre gave up on his morals. He'd only been holding back because he didn't want to mess up the mission with Shadowstep's agents watching in Stormwind, anyways. But where was Myrielle now? She certainly wasn't on the boat. Furthermore, Human lands were far behind them. The gorgeous lecher welcomed the return of his old song and dance. As he'd done with many women in the past, Alessandre leaned up on his elbow a little to get leverage, and then moved with his more than willing partner.

"Oh, how I adore you!" Opalbane responded to his effort instantly. In fact, she sounded incredibly grateful. It occurred to Alessandre that the woman had been wanting him as badly as he'd wanted her. He couldn't help smiling at a woman having such powerful desire for him. In the past, women had come to Alessandre's bed eager and more than willing. His most recent jaunt in Thelsamar a few months back had involved four eager women! Opalbane was different, however. In her own way, she was even better than Thelsamar. Within moments of settling her down to rest, she'd come alive with a need alien to even most Night Elves. She moved against the man she wanted ferociously, as if her life depended on it. Then, a surprising thought came and shattered Alessandre's arrogance… would he really be able to sate this kind of hunger?

Opalbane raised her hands above her head and then moved them back around Alessandre's neck. She let his silken midnight blue hair slip through her fingers and luxuriated in the feel of it for a few moments. Then, she roved ever upward to his long shadow-purple ears. Opalbane slowly caressed the tips with her smoking fingers.

This drove Alessandre mad. He forced Opalbane around so that she was facing him and began to kiss her hungrily. Opalbane whimpered and tugged aggressively at his clothing. Her little eager moans were beginning to sound strange, like there were demons or worse trapped inside of the shadowpriestess that all wanted to cry out at once. Perhaps any other man would be frightened by this, but Alessandre liked the shivers it sent up his spine. He rushed to pull Opalbane's robe off and finish things. There was a rattle at the door, but neither of the lovers heard it.

"You're so beautiful," Alessandre breathed over her mouth between kisses. "I don't care who you are, cultist, shadowpriestess… I don't even care if you are a demoness… just don't ever change."

Opalbane should have been exhausted from their flight from Stormwind but she was overcome with a supernatural strength. Alessandre tried to ignore his own fatigue due to riding Starshatter so hard through Dwarven lands… between Opalbane and himself, just whose libido was worse in this situation? Alessandre numbed the thoughts about his epic mount. The cat was dead tired and wasn't going to be in the way for a few days at the least, but he didn't want to remember that there was an audience of sorts. It was beginning to seem like there would never be a perfect time for he and Opalbane to make love. Reluctantly, Alessandre released the pleading shadow priestess.

Opalbane looked up at Alessandre, eyes flaring. "I just mean to get these off, that's all." Alessandre quickly apologized and his hands flew to unlatch his belt. He barely got his pants open when the door picked that moment to open too.

A man with dark hair and raggedy clothing rushed in, brandishing a knife. Alessandre was briefly caught off guard, but then the thundering lust inside of him quickly turned to feral rage. He leapt off the bed and had his dazzling rapier out of its holster on the bedpost and in his hand in mere seconds.

"You want her, do you? Get back!" Alessandre challenged the man. Opalbane quickly dressed and then scooted down the bed as far as he could go.

"Looks like you want her too." The other man's eyes roved down the length of Alessandre and he couldn't resist making the joke.

Alessandre snarled at the Human and slashed angrily with his sword. The man flinched and fled. Alessandre charged after him, swearing. "Every damn time I try to—" the rest of his words faded away as the rogue raced through the open door.

Opalbane attempted to compose herself. Should she go help Alessandre? Her head was spinning, and she suddenly felt weak again. This was all happening too fast.

"Ah, so there she is at last." Max came into the room then. He looked over his shoulder, then scratched his beard. "I'm glad I had Bo wait when he came back and told me he heard the two of you getting down to business in here. I think I even pegged the perfect moment for him to barge in didn't I? Heh. You're still dressed, but that raging bull of a bodyguard is half out of his pants and angrier than Sargeras. He's going to be distracted for a goodly time." Max drew his dagger and slowly closed in on Opalbane. The blade was dirty. It barely reflected the pale lantern light of the captain's cabin. Opalbane tried to call on a spell, but a searing pain in her abdomen made her double over in agony. Max laughed cruelly.

"That time of the month, eh? Why do women think they can be soldiers? Oh, this will be easier'n I thought."

Later on the deck of the ship…

"I'm going to split you right open and then feed your hot innards to the sharks while I watch!" Alessandre yelled savagely at dark haired Bo out on the deck. The man scrambled up the rope ladders that linked to the ship's tall mast as fast as a monkey.

"Ha!" Bo challenged Alessandre and began hopping up and down when he got to the look-out's perch at the top.

Alessandre snarled menacingly, showing all his teeth. People forget that Night Elves have pronounced canine teeth, especially the men. Alessandre looked as feral as he acted. "Is it really sooo wrong to have sex while on a mission!" he griped out loud. "I'm in the middle of the Great Sea, neither Shadowstep, Benactus, Myrielle, nor SI: 7 can foul this up for me out here, but even with water around for miles and miles… I can't even--" people were beginning to come on deck, and Alessandre had to let his loud frustrated tirade peter out.

"Will you get down here and fight me like a man?" he demanded instead, getting back on track. Bo then began to cackle like a monkey and hopped up and down making rude gestures.

Alessandre threw his hands up in the air and turned around in a circle, unbelieving. The passengers began mumbling in excited tones. Alessandre took a calming breath, but failed to compose himself. "Oh, you're fucked!" he faced Bo again. "I'm coming up there!" he shouted.

"Well, you're not fucked. I think that's what's really making you mad right now!" Bo grabbed his stomach and bent over laughing at the timely pun. "Oh, and by the way, your fly is still open." Then, Bo turned to the crowd and raised a hand in urgent warning. "Stand back everyone, he could poke an eye out with that thing!"

Feminine gasps rose up all around Alessandre. Some of the men snickered.

"That's it!" Alessandre sheathed his sword… and his other sword.

Bo was laughing so hard that he didn't notice the big Night Elf disappear.

The crowd got silent. "Uh oh." Bo said. He took a few ragged breaths to recover, then leaned over the side of the look out post. He watched the two rope ladders leading up both sides of the mast carefully for movement. None of the fiber footholds showed any signs of strain. Cautiously, Bo turned circles in the little roost, his two rusty daggers feeling the empty air around him. It seemed like forever passed and he still had no idea where Alessandre had gone to. Bo pressed his back up against the wide mast, hoping to at least protect his back from a surprise attack. But then, good rogue instinct urged Bo to look up.

A pair of shining yellow eyes glared down at him. The stealthed purple nightsaber hung upside down above Bo's head. It gripped the top of the mast with its back claws. The cat bared its long fangs at Bo. The cutthroat idly recalled that the snarl looked eerily familiar in the last moments of his life. Alessandre swiped at Bo's throat and split the jugular vein open with one shimmering moon-white claw, then immediately restealthed. He hoped no one saw him do it. Bo went limp, slumped over the side of the look out perch then fell many feet before his corpse slammed onto the deck. Alessandre grimaced at the sight, then wavered his long pointy ears about in feline innocence. He slowly crept down the length of the mast the way he'd come up—using his sharp claws to dig into the wood—then shifted into his rogue form and decloaked.

The captain of the ship came running to see what the matter was. "I am an agent working for Master Rogue Shadowstep and Priestess Feathershine of Darnassus." Alessandre hastily explained to the Human. Now that they were heading into Kaldorei lands, Alessandre was sure to mention the name of a Priestess of Elune. The scandal Feathershine had embroiled herself in with the courts of Stormwind wasn't so important where they were going.

The captain hastily nodded. "An enemy to Darnassus is an enemy to this crew. Here, someone get this body." He ordered his sailors. "Clean the deck. I'm sorry for the disturbance folks, but it seems to be taken care of…"

Alessandre sighed and shook his head at what he'd been forced to do. Making a kill in front of normal people usually went the wrong way. He was lucky that the fellow soldiers on board appeared to understand. Also, being inconspicuous about a mission was normally best, especially in a situation where he and Opalbane didn't have the option of hiding from the other people in such close quarters on the ship. Oh, and there was that other exposure at well… Alessandre did a quick self-conscious check of his closed pants fly. All in all, the situation had been resolved smoothly. Maybe Opalbane would be a bit rattled, but that could work to his advantage… He smiled as the thick desire flooded his mind again. It had never really gone, only ebbed.

"Help…" Opalbane shuddered and looked at Alessandre with terror in her eyes when he entered the room. Her palm was flat against the air, inches away from Max's chest. Blue energy leapt dangerously between them, but she could not keep up the Mind Flay spell for much longer. Max was on his knees, but furious. He made a last desperate attempt to slash at Opalbane with his dagger.

Alessandre lunged in and reached with his rapier, but he was too late. The invalid Opalbane screamed with fury, and summoned an explosive pulse of energy from her tainted reserves and killed Max herself. His body keeled over.

Slowly, Alessandre got back to his feet.

"I'm so sorry, Opal… I wasn't thinking clearly. It's the oldest trick, to pull an attacker out of a room like that. I should have guessed there were two of them. The other one was acting so stupid; it was obviously a diversion." Then he sighed. "Well, at least Max is one less person on my list."

Opalbane sagged into the bed and stopped moving. She said nothing.

"Opal? Opal!" Alessandre ran to the priestess and lifted her head into his lap. He used two fingers to check her pulse. "Help! Is there a healer on this ship?"

His dark fingers trembled as he looked into Opalbane's face. It was lifeless.

"No… Noo…" Alessandre said over and over and cradled her limp body in his arms.