Chapter 1 - Capture

 Vash'jir was not an easy place to get used to, even ignoring the obvious issues of catching one's breath beneath the waves. Magic, of course, can solve that little issue, and when even a student of the Arcane or Druidic arts can make some kind of spell or transformation that would allow one to breath under water, such simple logistical problems are barely worth mentioning. 

 No, the true difficulty in spending time down here, for Thesalia at least, was one of guilt. Fear. Sadness. Thesalia, one of the Kaldorii, the Night Elves, found herself walking through the remains of her people's dark history, the crushing weight of time and tragedy far more pressing than the simple physical presence of all that water. 

 The Sentinel let herself fall to the tiled floor of the old temple, her slow-motion impact sending out a lazy puff of silt and powdered shells, soon joined by others as the rest of her little band of scouts made it down from the raised platform they had spent the 'night' resting upon, her half dozen warriors now rested and ready for more information gathering. Most of them were Human, soldiers of the Alliance who had proven themselves valuable in a fight, if not quite so useful when it came to respecting the ruins around them. Isalaria, the only other Elf in the squad, drew herself up to stand by Thesalia's side, the shorter, less athletically built young Druidess never far from her side, at once endearing, and mildly annoying. Well, such was the way of youngsters, even among the Kaldoraii. 

 "Captain, we are heading for the temple today, yes?" Isalaria's common, spoken for the benefit of the rest of the squad, was stilted, but understandable, and had quickly endeared her to certain others within the group. The previous night had not been the only one interrupted by muffled sounds of pleasure from her tent, and would not be the last, but Thesalia could not bring herself to blame her. Had she been a few hundred years less jaded, she may well have indulged in such carnal pleasures herself. There was little else to do in the times between desperate, slowmotion skirmishes with the 'locals'.

 "Yes, Isa. Take Gerrard and Cale with you, and go scout the ruins east of here. Be careful, I think we may be forced to deal with more of the Naga today. Ears open, and pay attention to the water currents." With a nod, she gave her order, and the younger Night Elf eagerly saluted in that...Charming Little human style, before bounding off, stride made longer by the water, long robes floating loosely about her as she gathered the two burly young men who would be assisting her. 

 Where Isalaria was short and pleasantly curved, Thesalia, Captain of the Sentinels and veteran of more wars than most of the younger races even knew of, was tall and near Amazonian in build, with strong muscle under pale purple skin. The meat on her was sleek and athletic, and though apparently not what many of the other races truly wanted out of an Elf, she was quietly confident in her appearance, in her regal bearing and fine lips, and the pleasant way her snow white hair fell against the purple of her skin, the contrast striking even when most of said skin was covered in delicate elven armor.

 She could only sigh as the forward scouts left, leaving her with the remaining two warriors of the squad, the Human Morgan and Dwarf Maurya. Both a little older, a little more experienced, more useful for the possible assault on the temple itself. Hopefully Isa would keep her mind on the task at hand rather than fall to dalliances again. 

 Hopefully.

-

 When they reached the temple the better part of two hours later, they did so under the cover of overgrown kelp-like growths, draped down over them from a fallen tower of the old Highborn metropolis. Both Thesalia and her short companion Maurya found the going easy enough, passing between the enormous growths with barely a ripple of misplaced water, even with the armor the Dwarven woman wore. Down here, near drowned but for the spells cast upon her, she was without her usual weapon, a rifle used to hunt the creatures above, and so instead wore a brace of javelins, spears well suited to being thrown through the water, or used up close when it came to that.

 Morgan was less at home, comparatively clumsy  and heavy, the warrior couldn't keep the grunt of discomfort from his voice when he hissed into Thesalia's ear the first moment he was able, as they watched the temple doors from a kelp-shadowed overhang. 

 "I still don't think these damn charges will work. Not down here, it's too damn wet! And worse, why am I carrying ALL of them?" He shouldered the satchel, a sealed leather container that held the tool of this mission. Thesalia didn't bother to answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the apparently disused opening to the domed temple down below. She didn't need to speak here, Maurya would do so.

 "'Cause yer useless for anythin' else! Bah, quit complainin', you're a big guy, ye' can handle it." The Dwarf drove a finger into his gut, and reached out with her other hand to smack at the sealed satchel he was half way done dropping at his side. "An' if yer damn careful, th' bombs will still work! So shut it!" That done, she turned back to help with the watching, mutter sourly under her breath as the mollified Human flushed, and returned the pack to it's place on his back. 

 Thesalia couldn't help but smile. THAT was a nice change. It was hard to smile down here, when everything she saw reminded her of her people, of what they had lost, and given up. She could almost FEEL the pain that lingered here, and the current war did nothing to help. What would simply have been depressing became nerve wracking with the threat of yet another ambush by the Naga and their pets.

 Their six had begun as nine, little more than a week ago now.

 Strangely, the ambush she had expected had never come, not today, even though everything they had seen, had been told, said that this was the worst of it, the center of Naga operations in this part of the ruins of Azshara. Part of her wished she could believe that they had been wrong, that the worst of it was passed, or that fearing an attack, the enemy had moved on, leaving behind little of value. 

 But Thesalia was experienced enough to be jaded against such things, always expecting the worst. She knew, simply KNEW that combat would come, and that not even the placement of Isa and her little suitors around the flank of the temple wouldn't be enough to keep it from getting dirty and bloody. But there was nothing else for it. They had to deliver the charges to the inside of the temple, and blast it, taking out the most defensible structure that the Naga here would have when the rest of the Alliance forces came through here. They had been assured that the charges, if the seal of their packaging remained good, would do as required. If not? Well. They would at least have intelligence to return with. 

 They watched for a little under an hour, checking gear and watching for movement, before finally, having seen no sign of Naga or their slaves, working their way down towards the temple. The ruined structures made for an easy descent, and even without the supporting water around them, it would have been a simple climb. As it was, for much of the descent they could have simply jumped and floated down, but that would have left them exposed to the more water-agile foes that could yet be waiting, so they took the longer, safer path, worming down over pale stonework and centuries of silt and coral. 

 Nothing.

 Even as they drew within throwing distance of the great arched opening to the temple, the water remained still and empty. Maurya, the finest tracker Thesalia had on hand, had noted some old signs of snake-tracks in the silt, but down here in the depths such tracks could last days, weeks even, and there was no way of telling if those who had left them were close. Disturbing or not, there was nothing for it. They had to check inside, even if Thesalia felt less and less ready for it by the moment. Something was wrong here. They couldn't have left so quickly and stealthily, but had they been waiting inside there should have been SOME sign. The temple was as ruined as the rest of the sunken city, and although it's dome was largely in place, there were plenty of openings they could spy through from above. They had seen nothing. 

 With blades out, the trio passed under the arch and into the halflight of the temple proper.

-

 There was something alien about old elven artwork. To see familiar forms in such strange clothing and armor, the signs of magic used openly, to eventual tragic result. Worse was such delicate sonework left beneath the waves for centuries. Water had eroded much of it, softening the lines and rendering most of the signs and sigils unreadable, even to one well trained in the old language of her kind. Thesalia felt eroded eyes on her neck as they passed into the temple proper, eyes so blank and empty it made her skin crawl. 

 She was half way to ordering Garret to simply place the charges here and be done with it, risking a partial collapse just to escape...When Things began to go wrong. 

 Things moved, a sudden stirring in the silt beneath them that filled the wide corridor with floating particles, dark, near-black effluvia covering everything, and blocking out vision. All three of the party huddled together in a combat stance, Thesalia at the head, Maurya covering the rear, and Morgan, keeping the explosives safe, between them, his blade out in case things went south. Snakes, not true Naga, assaulted them in a cloud of silt and rushing water, beasts as thick as an arm and as long as a pike thrashing and coiling, snapping with barbed fangs in mad aggression. More than a dozen of them pounced together, and in the chaos of combat even Thesalia, veteran of a thousand battles felt the sting of those fangs as they cut through gaps in her armor and lefts bloody splashes floating in the water around them. Her Sentinel's blade cut through each snake easily, but in the roiling mass it was hard to if she was carving a new foe or simply cutting into the body of a defeated one. 

 But it was only a smokescreen. Through the blood and silt and floating segments of snake, an enormous scaly hand pushed through the water, and grasped the Sentinel tightly by the throat, jerking Thesalia away from her allies with a choked gasp. She was pulled free of the roiling mass of serpents, and finally, finally met the Naga that had made this sunken city their home. 

 Once, they had been Elves like her, but magic, corrupting and addictive, had turned them in foul creatures, as wicked as any demon and shockingly powerful in their native environment. The men had been reshaped into enormous, reptilian beasts, hulking and animalistic, and it was one such male that held her now, elongated snake-like face split in a fanged snarl, the barbed fins that fell from it's scalp bristling. In the liquid, foul language they spoke, it spat something at her, and with it's free hand smacked her weapon away, letting the blade settling into the silt. 

 Thesalia tried to call out, to warn her allies and call for help... But that powerful, reptilian hand squeezed, and all went black, the last thought before unconsciousness took her one of pure dread.

-

 Thesalia woke in air, and drake it down gratefully in gasping breaths, salty seawater, no longer oxygen-giving, splattering from her lungs as she bent almost double to empty them. Almost, for it soon became clear that she had been bound in place, arms behind her back and held within thick, oiled ropes, and those keeping her up against some thick, barnacle encrusted spear thrust into the stone floor my superhuman strength. Knowing that her gasping for breath would have given away her wakefulness, she made no effort to hide it, and opened her salt-sore eyes to get a look at her captors. Naga. Dozens of them, lounging about a large, air filled room somewhere in the temple. Most were the large males, bristling with spines and hard scales, sharpening weapons and eating raw meat where they lay coiled and ready, gleaming yellow eyes turning to watch her. 

 One, however, was different. A siren, one of the females, rose from where she had been entwined lazily with a large male, stretching both sets of graceful arms out at her sides with clear relish. In some ways, the females were more elven, still build more or less the way uncorrupted elves were, with enticingly feminine forms and distressingly beautiful faces, even if hair had become the same barbed frills as the males, and a second set of arms sprouted below the first. Her eyes were a bright and glittering pink, or purple, or teal, it seemed to change by the moment, like the gleaming reflective shell of some deep ocean mollusk, captivating and strange. The men wore armor, at least on their upper halves, but she was naked but for gleaming golden jewelry, wrists and neck hung with the stuff, all brought together by a large green gem set in her navel, tell-tale wisps of fel energy curling up from it, and tickling at her flat, smooth scaled stomach, and large, pert breasts. 

 She was beautiful, and for a moment, it was all Thesalia could think of.

 "SSsssss...Silly Little Elf is awake! Good, gooood..." She hissed, her Thalassian spoken with heavy, languid slowness, as if each wore were some delicious thing to roll about her forked tongue and indulge in. Full lips parted in a fang smile as she made her way towards the captured Elf, and the sinuous swaying of her body seemed perfectly designed to draw the eye towards those full curves and gleaming scales. This Naga was above all else, a seducer, one of the wicked breed that had spent thousands of years drawing sailors to their deaths , and it took no small amount of Thesalia's willpower to resist it, to remain in control of her wits and snarl out a reply. "Let me go, witch, or kill me now! I'll not be toyed with!"

"No?..." She let out a low, bubbling laugh of pure and genuine pleasure, frills twitching with it as the Naga loomed over the trapped and kneeling Elf. "We will Sssssee. Naszar?" She make a gesture with one hand at one of the Males behind her, and with a low rumbling hiss the largest of them rose, and slithered over, thick tongue running over his reptilian snout. Thesalia put on her best scowl as the hulking, mutanted creature took the place of the Siren, the more appealing creature slipping behind her, and lazily sinking her long-nailed fingers into the still wet hair of the Elf, running the sharp nails over her scalp and sending involuntary thrills of sensation down her spine. "You are our guessssst little Elf! We will feed you..." 

 Naszar let out a grunt as scales parted where on an elf, his groin would be, the heavy armored scales moving to reveal a gash of softer flesh. Like a natural snake, the sex organs of the Naga were, at least usually, internal, and as the Siren held her head firmly in place with all four hands, Thesalia was treated to the sight of the huge Naga's own equipment being prepared. What slid free with a burst of musky, reptilian scent was in many ways a relief. It looked largely like that of an Elf or Human, though significantly larger than most, thick and lengthy, slightly curved along the shaft. The head was bulbous, and around it's base was ringed by firm, fleshy barbs, making it look almost comically like some huge, eyeless axolotl's, more of that fel energy rising like steam from the glistening, reddish thing. Thesalia swallowed, a cold sweat on her purple skin as the Siren affectionately toyed with her hair and stroked at her cheeks and chin. "W-what...What Are you do-"

 She was cut off when those affectionate hands turned on her, grasping and tugging till they held her jaw down and mouth open, her head in place and even, for added displeasure, two fingers pinching her nose shut, forcing the Elf to make a sex-doll like expression, mouth wide open and ready for her meal. Her gasped words were muffled soon, as the enormous Naga fed his barbed length into her waiting maw, and wasted no time in sinking it in to the base, pushing through her gag reflex with a shaft thick enough to make her neck bulge obscenely, drool spluttering out of her stretched lips. "Ssssssshhh...Be a good little Elf and take your food..." The Siren cooed, the one hand not keeping her head in place moving to stroke lovingly at her throat, and the cock filling it completely. Tears gathering in her eyes, Thesalia choked and gurgled, no air reaching her lungs, and only the salty taste of the naga's cock rubbing on her tongue. 

 A moment later, he began to thrust, jerking his cock in and out of her throat with lazy rolls that made her captured head bob in place, and allowed her the tiniest gasps of breath when her throat was unfilled, though new more than a tiny fraction of a breath, making her vision swim and darken as her mouth was fucked and throat tickled by those fleshy barbs. "SSSssss...Enough Play, Naszar, let her feed." The Siren purred, and at her command, he simply came, cock pulsing and swelling before delivering a stomach-filling burst of seed directly into Thesalia's gut. As thick as cream and almost painfully hot, the corrupted seed first filled, then over-filled her, spurting from her stretched lips and even squirting, at pressure, from her pinched nostrils, backing up in her sinuses and sizzling there, the fecund stink of it filling her head as it's taste filled her mouth. 

 For the second time, starved of air and overcome by sensation, Thesalia lost consciousness, this time to liquid laughter of her captor, and the gurgling of fel-infused cum in her belly.

 It would not be her last such feeding. 

-End of part one-