Chapter 4 - Banshee's Game - Matter of Cards

It was the slam of a heavy mug that nearly deafened the opening of Lodge's doors, its contents eagerly escaping in a splash, all across the table; a tide of froth and aureate alcohol. Nethergarde’s Bitter awashed the wooden counter alike a wave of seawater, partially reaching the plates with meat and fruit - everything under the watching eyes of hooved barmaidens that didn’t seem to bother as much. 

A newly seen set of boots took into the elevated playhouse, coated in steel of purple shade and silvery accents; adorned with decals of clearly elven heritage but accordingly darkened in nature. Proudly they took forth, passing the many tables where golden cheese and vivid apples lied to the delight of the patrons allowed into such a place. The steps of this new guest were light, despite the amount of metal there was. 

Deliciously purple lips bent into a tiniest smile as she made it up the few stairs and turned around on her heel, her eyes sweeping through the surroundings and catching every familiar face, everything that made any difference; ragged cape followed in a whirling manner, its aged fabric covering the bare back of the ranger - the skin that was alike glory of the snow, a familiar blossom of a delicate blue shade. 

“So this is Grandmaster’s lodge?” A little distant voice was to be heard as the banshee asked and downturned her eyes onto one of the many tables, staring at the well-carved but all in all, not so impressive furniture. “Every wretch’s alcohol and common man’s feed.” A mocking tone it was, one seeping with something patronising to it. “To think so many of Azeroth's finest players are no different to any other crowd you would find in Azeroth’s average drinkery.” 

So this would be Azeroth's greatest playing lodge. Amused thought ran through the ancient mind. 

Scarlet gaze met with one of the patrons and there was no love between them. She scoffed and turned her face to the particular blood elf; a rogue that sat by the wall with yet another massive tankard in her own hand. “How the mighty have fallen.” She purred out with a flagrant nute as the crimson rogue took another sip of her new favourite drink; the Nethergarde’s Bitter.

That particular assassin-thief herself could take care of it, arise from the comfy chair where her buttocks almost glued to the seat; all to teach the fallen elf to not threaten some of Azeroth's finest drink - something that she realised just recently. Even so, it wasn’t the rogue’s job, she had much more important things to do - so she merely sat a bit more comfortably next to the slick draenei and watched as a different figure spoke from the comfort of her chair. 

“Lady Windrunner. Truly an entrance."

"They say the Dark Lady watches over all." Sylvanas declared and turned to the elf who just seemed to occupy one of the larger tables all by herself; her breasts as always resting on the table in the entirety of their size and spilling across the wood. "Even over places such as this. No development can slip past her eyes…" Banshee stepped closer towards the night elf, ever so unfazed. "... no disappointment either." 

Neither the biggest of them all. She thought as the queen-sized worshipper presented herself as any other time she would. An affront to good to good taste. 

Tyrande was known for more than just the ability to play; her cleavage exposed just enough to inspire every kind of a thought and loose robes allowed her qualities to present themselves freely. While certain tricks worked in players such as the lion son, the banshee was harder to influence - though it should have been mentioned that simple flesh really didn't put her out of focus in the slightest. 

"I do not doubt." Tyrande agreed rather keenly, holding but a small mug in front of herself; she perhaps wasn't as much of a sloven drunkard as the rest of the locals but still likely drank some disgusting mixture, that much the dark ranger was sure about. "My congratulations on joining us in the lodge. Sadly you have not managed to do so before our rogue or perhaps me but being last of our elven kind to join is still better than not joining." 

Welcoming and almost formal, the voice of the Kaldorei priestess was far from provoking or mocking but clearly had such a purpose. It was but a thinly veiled declaration of Sylvanas' inferiority and as such, the scarlet eyes of the banshee squinted softly in response. "Bold words for someone playing the most favoured of decks for years since the start." She muttered out with mild discontent. "But the night elves never were much for a challenge, ever so afraid to leave their safe little homes."

Many a patron lost interest in Windrunner's little arrival as soon as Tyrande stepped in; the music grew louder as if to drown their conversation and numerous eyes turned to far more important matters - such as the ale and hooved maidens. Commotions in places such as this weren't rare. 

"We do prefer warmth and company over dust and graves." Lady Whisperwind agreed, smiling to the ranger. "But it does make me glad to welcome you here. Perhaps a night or two alongside us will change your mind, Dark Lady; we do not bite." The mug was risen to her kisser; these proper elven lips allowed themselves to dip into golden liquor and did so rather eagerly. 

But we do. Banshee's voice declared in her mind. Dust and graves might be everything you're getting when I'm done here. 

"Your little shack on a hill matters little to me, Whisperwind. I merely came to see if you're all as miserable as the rumours said." Sylvanas retorted back, her voice as poisonous as ever; each tone a mixture of disregard and superiority. "It saddens my rotten heart that each word seemed to be true." She then added, rising her hand and opening it in an expressive manner. "So much for the finest players of Azeroth. The rogues and the priests. Children all."

"I suppose you would like to mother us all around here?" The night elf smiled and leaned a little forth, her bust moving accordingly alike a tide of softest beauty. "Perhaps to prove yourself in the lodge. Ensure us all that you're not here by any…" 

"... mistake or accident." It was almost love that permeated priestessesly voice. 

"Your taunting and provocation falls short, Tyrande." Sylvanas declared without sharing the enthusiasm of the Kaldorei leader. "But if you wish to be humiliated this badly then so be it - I'll gladly oblige. Perhaps once you're evened with the ground, you'll understand your position. Perhaps I'll even not have to come back here ever again to prove it." 

"Bring out the cards and cease wasting my time." She rushed and folded her arms. Sylvanas folded her arms - it was obvious that she had came looking for a fight of sorts, much like Tyrande was recognized for her blessed qualities, the banshee was known for not being exactly mannered in her approach. Victories were most deserved and losses were just the whims of the universe, she had not assumed any differently. 

"If you're so short on time then you will enjoy the fact we do not just play with cards here." Tyrande smiled and picked up her beer, just to then gently raise it into the air and wave her hand. It was barely any time before Sylvanas was passed by two draenei maidens who swiftly removed everything from the table, piling up food, plates, mugs and even candles on top of their trays into rather elaborate towers, somehow balancing each and every piece perfectly. 

Banshee could merely raise her eyebrows as the runes of many shades began to manifest themselves, carpeted all over the table in a swift and arcane manner. Foundation of oaken wood presented itself and appeared out of thin air, caged in a stone frame; a minuscule but great anvil came into existence, colorful lava swirled out of nowhere and took into each corner - the one of many boards began to build itself in front of the Dark Lady. 

Weapons and armour rested by the decorative anvil, a pool of molten rock was adorned by a tiny hammer of the firelord, buildings from black rock and statues began to seep with magma and some closer, dragon-trash took the last of the free nocks. An elaborate and hastened conjuration, one that softly choked her with too many lights and things happening at the same time.

But it was a playing board and one full, save for the decks and cards themselves. 

“Dainty little trick.” Sylvanas declared with a most unimpressed voice. “Does it also help you win, Whisperwind? Does it change the cards in your hands as it is necessary?” Whether it was an elaborate illusion or just really fine conjuring, perhaps just a mixture of both, it all made little difference. The heat was definitely real, she felt the warmth hitting her skin in an almost pleasing manner; the warmness spread across her delicate flesh alike a tide of sensation and somehow did so to the last inch. Dalaran's work no doubt. Mages do think about the money. 

“Why doesn't the banshee queen sit down and find out?” Tyrande purred out and waved her hand and soon an array of cards began to descend from nothingness, orderly following one after another into the deck slot and filling it with a proper set of thirty.

“So eager to be crushed. The Kaldorei never change.” Dark ranger scoffed and sat right in front of the elf, the red eyes merely turning to the empty deck slot and squinting ever so softly. It wasn’t much before another flurry of cards was manifested and brought into life, filling the empty spot. These banshee lips bent into a wide smile soon after and then turned to the night elf in a nearly triumphant manner. 

“The banshee appears to be a quick learner if nothing else.” High priestess declared with a little surprised tone but would not let go off the sheer, almost sickening friendliness; she merely waved her fingers in a graceful manner and had no less than three cards emerge from the deck slot, ones that flew towards her hand and rested there. 

“She’s everything else.” Sylvanas declared and soon did the same, soon holding four cards and showing off the sharp canines just a little bit in an almost alluring manner. “Including the winner. Prepare your little priestly deck and let us be done about it, Whisperwind.” The red eyes gained a very telling shine to themselves. “It’s about time you join your people. Old and irrelevant. Life, war, games.” Body and soul. 

“So many words.” Tyrande declared and took out the first of her cards, slapping it down onto the board; bending a little forward and allowing her bust to press further, to bulge against the edge of the gameboard’s stone frame.  “Let us find out if you can hold up.”

The match was to take off in not an uncommon manner as enchanted cards were thrown, showed off their meanings and then burned away, their contents appearing below on the game board. Perhaps not as interested in simple chatter of before, the audience now gathered as two famous players took against each other as the merry mob cared for little more than entertainment. 

Two opposites, a priest and a hunter of its own kind; one stuffing the board from the first place and the other merely waiting, all to undo seven creatures with a single card. So it would continue - Sylvanas undoing a third of her opponents’ health in a single turn and the other healing herself back while removing all of the threats with ease. And so the night elves prove themselves resistant to change. To improvement. Dark ranger scoffed in her mind and threw another card, filling the board with locusts. “Aren’t you growing tired of using so many cards, Whisperwind?”

Tyrande’s smile grew ever so slightly, her hand full to the point of a single card slipping out - falling into her grand bust and becoming stuck in the great cleavage; stuck properly and standing upright. “A single card used gently bears more yield than a dozen thrown rushly.” Moonlit eyes squinted softly as slick fingers reached to the elven bust, just to pick up the card and throw it into action; burning all of the summoned insects and healing its owner at the same time. “Is it so confusing, cousin?”

I’ll show you cousinship. Scarlet gaze squinted as the Dark Lady threw another few cards, sacrificed minions and drew another four; all else going against elven face after being promptly buffed to threaten lethal the very next round. Your kind is predictable, Tyrande. So are you - always playing the same song… Sylvanas smiled softly as she finished her turn, ready to annihilate her opponent in the next one. … song that is known to the last note. To the last bit of its sounding. 

“So quick to present your winning tools, cousin.” Priestess of the moon squinted her eyes in disappointment and her tone carried itself with a certain melancholy. “It’s no joy to crush children - even ones as grown up as you.” A simple set of cards followed, a priestly combination that vaporised everything on the board with no counterplay. A difficult to get combination, something that was not to be collected until further into the game - or far more importantly to Sylvanas, something that couldn’t be reasonably be collected twice before the very end of the game. 

“Is it so?” Banshee purred out and then, with the widest of victorious smiles, threw the rest of her cards into the air - filling the board with the exact threat of lethal the very next turn. Right into a simple trap. A child’s play… my grown up cousin. “Bold words. Quick words.” She decreed and then returned the favour with an exactly disappointed tone. “So much for the famous player, cousin. It seems it was not my tools that ran… prematurely.” So much for the lodge. 

“It seems I ought to visit the rogue next.” The fool’s lodge seems all so much more fitting. 

Long eyebrows raised ever so softly as the very last cards of the banshee were thrown away just like that; one would presume that she did so in a victorious manner. Gently and without haste she picked up another card from her deck. “It would truly seem so…” Lady Whisperwind purred out and then stared at her cards for a long time - seemingly thinking, pondering, planning. 

“Be done with it already, Whisperwind.” Sylvanas declared with an annoyed, nearly exhausted tone. “You’ve run the same game as always and lost - there is nothing that’s going to turn the favour now.”  A skill-less, simple show as every other time - to think others have not crushed you so long ago. Puffy, violet and deliciously darkened lips bent into a wide smile. But I enjoyed it myself. 

“Fate favours the bold…” Tyrande purred out and sat a little more upright, pulled her up moon-bust from the table softly and allowed it to hang in a greater glory - for the most part. “... and the brave…” These slick, painted fingers soon grasped a single card in the elven hand; polished and painted nail shined in the lamplight. “... but most importantly, fate favours the prepared mind.” 

She threw her card; and then another, and another, one after another forming a simple combination; Sylvanas’ eyes widened as the necessary combo to undo everything she has made manifested itself again. Out of the nine cards the elf previously held, four were necessary to carry out this thing. 

It just so turned out that another four were duplicates, filling elven hand with two copies of the same life-saving combination - something that Sylvanas has been blessed with moments ago and tried to capitalise on. 

Ridiculous… Indeed, the world was fair. Life’s only so much. 

“Your turn, Windrunner.” Tyrande purred out so contently as both players ended with barely anything in their hands; it just so happened that one of them relied on a slow and methodical playstyle and the other needed  to flood the board endlessly. “I do look forward to your visit to Valeera.” She added just a little more words, poisonous as lovely they were. “Perhaps outside our walls.”

“Hold your tongue or I’ll tear it out.” Sylvanas growled out, staring at what just took place before her eyes. Topdecked. Relying on simple luck to survive. She inhaled a little sharply and then grabbed a card of her deck - something that mockingly allowed her to buff her own minions, something that she did not have. “To think I was done suffering fools. Are you proud of yourself, Whisperwind?”

“Are you, cousin?” Tyrande purred back, merely waiting for her turn as her opponent did nothing but stared at her own card. She relaxed back, put one plump leg on top of each other and then allowed the great plumpness to present itself - should anyone watch from below the table. “I await your triumphant victory. I see it arriving on the horizon… delicious and filling with pride.” She stretched as to show slight boredom, pushing out the bust that could drown a man. Or a banshee in this matter. 

Sylvanas glared ever so tiredly at her cousin and then waved her fingers in a most done manner; saying not a single thing and causing the golden arrow to appear and hit the elf for a simple amount of two damage. Such a clever mouth.. Cousin. 

And it was all that she did. 

Perhaps even in some aspects before, the match was rather one-sided by this point and it was more than simply obvious; she who relies on swiftness and pressure without either of those things against someone who thrived in the opposite. Moon blessed fingers took yet another card and the turn was skipped; the game was as swift as any other in these current days, by turn eight it was long clear that it all was over and Lady Whispering merely prolonged the game for no good reason other than poor manners - the interest of the watchers waned quickly. 

Sylvanas did nothing but threw whatever she had drawn and chipped away her opponent’s health points, all for them all to be healed. One long eared denizen of Azeroth slowly played against another, one silent till Tyrande had skipped her turn entirely and did nothing on her tenth turn, merely taking a sip from her mug and then resting her chin on the slick elven fingers, staring at Sylvans with a keen expression. 

“Do you really intend to prolong this for no good reason?” Banshee’s voice resounded, speaking with this gently otherworldly echo itself. Slave to yet another torment. You don’t really walk away from a fight with a distinguished opponent, to concede was not exactly looked greatly upon in higher spheres. “Are you so afraid of a rematch that you try to waste all of our time? Be done with it.” She nearly growled out the final part, squinting the scarlet eyes and staring through eyelashes. 

I refuse to participate in this mockery any longer. Sylvanas' turn was gone as soon as it started; it was a lost cause and she wouldn't play alike some dying animal struggling to survive. 

"If the great cousin believes so." Tyrande purred out in agreement and grasped a single hand, taking it out in a slow but delightful motion. "Perhaps she can change her mind with a little bit of help." She raised it even higher without showing. "The Lodge insists on making everyone enjoy their time." 

"The only thing I'll enjoy is ripping our your tongue Whisperwind if you don't end this waste of time." Banshee declared and then watched as the night elf merely sighed in a nearly theatrical manner, shaking her head afterwards. The card was shown and scarlet gaze upturned onto it. "No minions on my end, what do you aim to mind control?" She growled out as the mockery doubtlessly continued. 

This stupidity is sickening. The ranger thought with annoyance as the card was shown regardless, slowly flying through the air. Or has she been so lost in this display of luck that she did not even notice? Sylvanas' long eyebrows raised ever so softly as the card turned into a glow of amethyst energy. What purpose even… Energy that soon shoot straight forward, avoiding the board and moving above. 

Right into her face. 

Scarlet eyes blinked and the banshee shook her head; it was no different to a piece of wet cloth falling against her face and then quickly dissipating. Irked by the sudden but deeply unpleasant sensation, the banshee shook her pretty head and then raised the irritated gaze onto the ever so content night elf. “What is the meaning of this, Whisperwind? Is this magic trick of yours malfunctioning?” 

Priestess of the moon merely laid back in her seat; relaxing herself in an almost unceremonious manner and taking a deep breath, as if she gained some sort of satisfaction from mocking of the Dark Lady. She didn’t exactly say anything just then but rested her head on a hand, staring at her opponent in a manner as if they met over a romantic meal. “Explain yourself, Whisperwind.” Sylvanas’ purple lips spread as she was about to demand explanations, slowly standing up from the table. Little do I care who runs this place but if you think you can just act like this and think I will play alongside…

“Don’t bother about it.” The night elf purred out. Sit down, Sylvanas. You were about to show me my place, weren’t you?” She declared meerily. 

… then you are about to learn how well I can do it. Sylvanas finished in her mind and sat down. "Do not think I do this because you've told me to.” Banshee added rather swiftly and turned to her cards once again. Despite all this damnation, she’s correct. I can not just walk away without risking cowardice. Elves play to the last drop of blood after all. 

"But of course. It is not like my beauty commands your attention." The elf purred out and waited for her turn, merely stretching afterwards; her head pulled back and arms rose, dangerously puffy lips bent into a smile and purple skin shone beautifully - all to the demise of Banshee's focus. 

Banshee agreed in her thoughts. Indeed your charm does not work on me. Yet no matter how hard she tried to focus on these cards in her hand, Tyrande's qualities caught her gaze tenfold better; these dark areolas breaking through the thin fabric and the nipples that forced the silk of the robes to adjust. Sylvanas bitten her lip as Kaldorei udders raised even higher as her opponent stretched even further; massive, monumental and queenly plump. How long do you intend to keep this pose, you cow. A murmur resounded within the discontent mind; mind that clearly took liking to this landslide of elven beauty-meat. 

As something began to sizzle, assumingly in her own mind, Windrunner reached for one of her cards, not that she could hold many of them at this point but it was an attempt. An endeavour disturbed by the beautiful moonlit eyes, by the skin so slick that only kisses could be given and by the long and leafy hair that unfurled down towards the ground. There was no denying that Tyrande carried herself well and her body was well taken care of - she was a fine queen. 

Too fine for my standards. She wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not, even so, the banshee tried to look at the card she had gotten; to find out what it was for. She twitched unnaturally when this sound reached her long, slick ears. This long, stretched elven moan that left widely open mouth - escaped from between lips so plump that their uses took over Windrunner's mind, shattering her focus even further and leaving but an image of two pretty heads meeting, two kissers taking to work. One of them was too dangerously similar to her own. 

Cease this insanity...  I'm not interested in… Dark Lady had to scorn her own mind as this sizzling grew louder and louder; all while Tyrande continued her exposeful moves. If she was to stand up then doubtlessly her hips would come into sight and that could be even more detrimental to her control. Are they this wide as well? Is she a cow… everywhere? 

She took a sharp breath and then focused on the sizzling for just a moment, feeling as something was about to explode. 

And it did. 

A small but echoing explosion on the board, the turn-rope which made its way all the way to the edge and as such, heralded the end of Banshee's turn. She ran out of time. "Such a shame." Lady Whisperwind purred out and sat in an usual manner as before, halting her stretching session and returning it playing. "It would seem you couldn't decide what to do. Happens to the best of us."

The banshee closed her, surprisingly open maw. How long did this take? How long have I been… How long had she been staring at the udders of the High Priestess with her mouth spread? Did I really… just because of these fat… There was trouble in finishing thoughts, she truly was unfocused. 

"Perhaps you need a drink?" Tyrande asked with a truly patronising but still somehow worried voice. "We say that going by a dry mouth is really bad for game-sense. There's plenty of ways to fix that though…" Moonlit eyes looked directly into the scarlet ones; one deliciously quivering and the other ever so merry.

"Unwise to aid your opponents, Whisperwind." Sylvanas declared, her eyes just for a moment lowering themselves onto the great queenly cleavage of the High Priestess of the Moon. Your overconfidence will be your fall. The mutter resounded in Banshee's mind once more as she calmed a little. I'll put you down like the cow you are. You and your… massive… She shook her head, unwilling to finish that sentence. "What even is served in this lowly place? Beer? Wine? Or do you get merry on milk?" 

"Well for you dear cousin…" Tyrande started with a little wondering tone and put a finger on her chin, pretending to think almost theatrically. "... I am sure we could find something unique. Good for spirit and the mind, with a unique taste and purpose." Star-blessed gaze turned sharper, kenner as the elf suddenly came to a conclusion. 

"A mug of cum." The lovely lips purred out. 

"A mug of…" Sylvanas repeated and turned to confusion, blinking twice as the sheer ridiculousness hit her like an elk; scarlet eyes jumped from the still unread card and focused on the shapely, undeniably alluring opponent. "I believe I have misheard you over your stupidity. Repeat." 

"No you have not. A mug of cum." Tyrande purred out and smiled to the confused Banshee. 

"Have you turned insane from the alcohol and stupidity-thick air of this place?" She barked back in disbelief. This… 

"You know it would be delicious." The priestess merely declared. "In fact let us be honest, you perhaps really wouldn't mind it at all…" She added and raised her hand abruptly to signal the barmaiden, her udders jiggling softly as the moonsilk robes restricted little if anything - her eyes however, never moving off the banshee. "... the rumours are that cum is good for your mind. Eases but sharpens." 

Priestess of the Moon declared, clearly thinking on every of her sentences as if she was making them on the run; though obviously that wasn't the case as Sylvanas mind filled with one question. How did Tyrande know? She couldn't bring back any memory right now but she doubtlessly pondered over this many a time. Was I this predictable? Or do I pay the price of underestimating my enemy?

"But perhaps… " Tyrande muttered softly, more to herself than to the banshee. "... perhaps it's something reserved for finer players." Night elf repeated before coming to a conclusion. "In truth it's a good question - could a Banshee even stomach a mug of proper cum?“ Priestess asked in curiosity. "It's no easy task, it's thick, heavy and-" 

"No task lies outside the reach of the banshee queen, Whisperwind." Ranger cut into the elven words as if with a knife. You may be a few steps ahead but do not think I'll let it stay like that. "I do not care kind of filthy spunk you bring, I will down it." A firm declaration it was as Sylvanas was running out of patience, her scarlet eyes getting pierceful in nature. Do not think you can scare me, Whisperwind.

"Any kind?" Tyrande purred out the question. 

"I am the Banshee Queen." Sylvanas answered. And I will drink any kind of cum. 

"Good…" Kaldorei priestess answered in a somewhat weighing manner, looking at her own cards as the game was seemingly frozen - the time not running out in any form or manner. "... then if you'll drink any kind of cum, then you'll likely not be afraid to suck it right out of a dick of any kind either. Would that be right?" She asked with a mocking voice; her tone asking and provoking as if it was a real question. 

"Yes." Lady Windrunner declared while digging her nails into the wood, almost scarring the countertop in irritation. "Any kind of dick, any number of them - I would suck them with ease. Now are you going to stop wasting my time and order that cum or are you waiting till I die again from old age?" Banshee's words were quick and fiery. Enough stupidity took place at this table. Let us get the spunk and be done with it so I may be done with you, Whisperwind. 

"Well if you do insist on not wasting any time then perhaps you'll be glad to learn…" Tyrande began as she grabbed two cards from her hand and threw them forth. "... that I just have something to make it so much quicker." 

Enchanted cards swirled in the air and shimmering glow of spell-woven effects bathed everything in vivid colours, an array of glitter and sparkles that manifested themselves with glorious glamour; the green that stood followed by flowers and blossoms - ones that took the form of a portal to the dreamlands and soon presented a figure so slick and familiar that no one could mistake it. 

All as the second card swirled towards the other end of Dark Lady’s chair; a sisterly fire that blazed with motherly love and welcoming warmth, a shimmering dance of radiance that took form much wider, much more gifted in ways that only the most refined mind could appreciate - the sizes and the scantily clad flesh that made themselves true out of nothing more than a card. 

A duo of ancient protectors that appeared from nothing else than enchanted paper and yet, were truer than anything else. “I bring life and hope.” A resounding, echoing voice of power was to be heard; soon followed by yet another one, far more gentle, perhaps uncaring - promising.  “My dream ends. Your begins.” 

Both dragons soon stood by the banshee; Ysera , sticking so close to the ranger, had her hands on the back support and leaned ever so softly forth - her purple bust pressing into Sylvanas' head. All while the older dragon merely put her hand on Windrunner's head and patted it gently with a satisfied smile, keeping the mighty ruby bust just inches away from the pale face. 

On the first glance closer to content felines than mighty, scaled protectors, they stuck close and in their full glory, burying the huntress with their wonders. Alexstrasza's with the motherly body that couldn't be matched and Ysera with the Kaldorei standard of beauty - mature and plump, carved but delicately petite. What in seven hells is this meant to be… Despite being no more than cards the sensation was not only very real but warm and by no means simple. 

Alexstrasza's thighs did ask for things she couldn't name. 

"You can consider them simple illusions." Tyrande purred out as the ruby queen smiled ever so softly. "But they can give you just what you ask for." She added before the great aspects lowered their hands.

To pull out the massive, flaccid pieces of dickmeat that rested between their legs; each soon pulling up a prick worthy of their mantle. Alexstrasza's fat mouthfiller soon made it before scarlet eyes and allowed Sylvanas to see how it beautifully bent down under its own weight - all while held in the middle of the shaft no less, making itself an absolute slab of a cock. One well resembling this of a sin'dorei, if to ignore the mad size. 

Ysera's soon made it above the backsupport and over banshee's shoulder - darker and with a beautifully purple cockhead as deserving of a night elf. It perhaps did not pack the same might as the one of the older dragon sister but doubtlessly has its own charm and completed the duo rather flawlessly. The smell reached Windrunner's nose in no time and it was nothing short of strong; it was a scent of something more than just alluring and it was there to stay. 

"Magnificent, aren't they?“ Tyrande declared as she leaned back in her chair, rising the plump legs and resting them on the table in a straight manner. "Dragons are rather sizeable." She added while Sylvanas examined the flawlessly fat meat of Alexstrasza's; all as it rested right before her face and was soon gently swung, slapping the Banshee's face with a delicate sound. 

These things… Dark Lady's thoughts focused, she barely noticed how her opponent's heels soon adorned the table. There was something immaculate to these cocks she agreed to suck and she could not deny their slick nature, even with their great sizes. Green dragoness could be somewhat smaller but it still was a great package of balls and dick, something that commanded awe. My vision is nearly blocked by the Dragonqueen alone. 

"This is not a deed that will carry itself out, Windrunner." High Priestess declared with satisfaction, furtherly stroking the fires inside the Banshee. "If you want your drink then I suggest you-" 

"I'm well aware these cocks won't suck themselves." Sylvanas' bark was once again sharp and swift, ending the Kaldorei sentence before it was over. "Now cease your yammering so I can focus." Hands of the ranger soon fell on both both dicks, first on this of the Life-Binder; it was a warm slab of cockmeat, still properly flaccid and softly squishy in touch - no different to this of the green dragoness in but only so much harder to fully grasp. 

Slowly did she stroke back and pull the foreskin, showing off the delicious cockhead; the perfect shape and the flawless look. It was juicy, delicate and puffy, all of it right in front of her eyes. Her nostrils flared as it all was nothing short of the most fleshy, mind dimming smell that she ever met - its source looking no lighter than the scent. 

She swallowed as saliva poured in and turned her gaze to the left, watching the dick that was right over her shoulder. Likewise she pulled the foreskin back and revealed a whole meal of a mouthwatering meat. It too was still flaccid and with the great length, it allowed itself to be bent towards the puffy lips of the ranger. It was a soft meeting, the fine kisser of the Banshee met an ever finer tip. 

"Do not forget to taste before anything else, Windrunner." Tyrande reminded her with such a sweet one, all while her slick fingers dug down and unveiled yet another meat; a colossal meat of the High Priestess that dimmed any other currently presented and did so against all common sense - it was soon proudly stroked up and down across its entire wild length. However so, it would remain unused just for now so it wasn't as focused on. 

"Do not think you can school me, Whisperwind. I know perfectly how to suck a dick." Sylvanas barked again, bathing Ysera's cockhead in warm air - all to the delight of the dragon. She's getting on my nerves. As if sucking a dick was a challenge. Her tongue ran across the puffy lips, leaving a shiny layer of saliva and soon this kisser spread. As if… 

The Dark Lady soon took in the tip of Dreamer's fat tool - all while her hand worked on stroking the Ruby Queen. As if I didn't know how to suck dicks. She clenched her lips and licked around the puffy glans, tasted the meat of the dragoness. Salty. Thick… She muttered in her mind, soon sucking like a proper, little Banshee. I expected more if this was your challenge, Whisperwind. 

I could be doing this all day. 

However, both of these tools began to harden to her work; causing Ysera's dick to slowly escape from the purple kisser no matter how hard did the Dark Lady suck. In the end, it bounced out with the delicious sound of a broken smooch. There was little time to rest as it was two dicks that required sucking and not one, prompting scarlet gaze to immediately turn towards Life-binders meat. 

Now that one was more befitting of a Sin'dorei in accordance with the red dragon's form and it was a whole meal no less than the previous. As such one would be treated no differently. It ought to be sucked. She declared in her mind and grabbed it with force, stroking by the base and pressing her lips against the side of the glans, collecting all of the precum that was smeared around by her handjob. I shouldn't be giving Whisperwind reasons to open her mouth…

"You can forfeit the challenge at any time." The high priestess immediately purred out, as if reading in Sylvanas thoughts. "There's no shame in admitting defeat." Tyrande's hand continued to stroke her own tool, all to the delicious sight of a mighty Banshee Queen stroking the dicks of draconic ladies. "No shame in losing to a dick." 

The ranger coiled her tongue around Life-binder's tip for a while longer, ensured that it was spotlessly serviced and only then backed off; separating the busy lips from her meal and taking a deep, air-hungry breath. "I do not lose to dicks, Whisperwind." She declared while Alexstrasza's hand gently stroked her head with patronising care. "In fact-" 

"Kiss them and then talk to me." Tyrande cut into Banshee's words, squeezing a fine amount of precum out of her tool. 

As if I planned on everything else. Sylvanas scoffed in her mind and then gently smooched one dick, swiftly taking to this of Ysera's right after. "I do not lose to dicks." She spoke, as soon as she was done removing the precum from Emerald dragon's cock. "Dragon or not." 

"Continue then. Prove you can take two of them at the same time." Hand of Lady Whisperwind moved and so did the dragons, still standing on both sides in the Banshee but now in a far more frontal manner; allowing the ranger to stare at two fat wonders in all of size. "Only the finest of players could ensure neither grows lonely… perhaps even fit both at the same time. " 

"Your yammering becomes troublesome to my delicate ears, Whisperwind." Sylvanas declared in annoyance, staring deep into the moonlit eyes - all as their image was squeezed between the fine hips of the Dreamer and the queenly plump ones of her sister. "Do not think yourself superior just because I am the one sucking dicks and not you." To think I would need some spunk this badly. Had it been another time, I would have killed you long ago. 

"How could I?" Tyrande purred but didn't elaborate any further, merely sloppily stroking her own, upright standing tool. 

"Let us be done with it." Banshee did not waste any time but merely lunged her spread open maws at Alexstrasza's prick; she sucked on the puffy and broad tip, fed on the precum in search of the much needed seed. For all that could be said about the Dark Lady, she did know how to throw her head back and forth. Her eyes focused down on the shaft she fervorously worked, allowing it to slide on her tongue and stain it with the salty nectar. 

Alexstrasza could do nothing but smile, enjoying the service with an almost feline expression; all while her younger sister was stroked with similar passion. Red dragoness could be bigger but it was Ysera that ran rich into the sticky, early nectar; her precum amassing so finely that soon everyone could hear the squishing sounds of aspect's precum. 

It truly was not long before it began to escape through Sylvanas's slick fingers and drip down, prompting the cock-busy Banshee to switch her focus. With as little as a simple pant did purple lips separate themselves from one dick and swiftly jumped to another - sliding down the well-lubed shaft with ease and collecting all that was collected. 

She sucked and she licked, she clenched her lips tightly and slid back and forth; making wondrously obscene sounds whenever her tight connection was broken and she sucked air in. What followed was she merely jumping from one prick to another, staring almost angrily at these fat tools and cursing them in her mind. Come you wretches. 

Just give me your god-forsaken spunk already. 

But it wouldn't be as simple - no matter how many times she would leave these tools shining and flawlessly covered in her saliva, no matter how many times would she fill the hall with filthy sounds and no matter how many times would the cursed Emerald dragon scratch her begins the long ear, neither of them would actually fill her mouth with their seed. 

"You ought to do better than that, cousin." Tyrande stepped in as always - oil to the fire. "You'll not get anything out of them if you go merely halfway down these cocks. You need to take them whole."

"I know..." Sylvanas barked once again, separating herself from the two tools she has been servicing for a while now. "...I am merely warming up." It was however easier said than done, even halfway through, these tools made it rather far down her throat; to the very edge of closing it off and getting dangerously deep into her neck. 

These cocks have grown to be a problem. If only there was a way to… Her thought wouldn't come to its end as she felt a firmer grasp over her head, one that pulled her head back and up; scarlet eyes met with those golden ones of the Life-Giver herself. “There’s always a way - even for those of such a cursed existence.” Alexstrasza declared with a solemn voice, as if reading in the very thoughts of a ranger. “Even in your state, life itself is with you, Banshee.”

Sylvanas could just see as the draconic sisters moved and positioned just so sweetly that their tools pressed against each other; one keeping another upright, clenched together and presented in a fine comparison. Shining, hard as proper and with ballsacks hanging down so proudly, shown so exquisitely in a sisterly show of dicks - one somewhat bigger than the other and its puffy end starting a bit higher but it was no shame as the Dreamer still held more in her panties than anyone would ever expect. 

“And life you see…” Life-Binder continued as she took an even more proper grasp of the pretty, long-eared head and pulled its owner from the seat, forcing her to stand up in a rather odd position; right before she pushed Windrunner’s maws down again.. “... always finds a way.” The final words was what the Banshee could have heard before her lips spread widely to take in the broad head of the Dragonqueen’s dick.

She can not be thinking to make me…

Yet another thought of the Banshee Queen wouldn’t meet its end as she had to open wide for one puffy tip, to go down on it and as soon as it was in, to meet yet another swollen cockhead. Her lips stretched in a rather obscene manner as they tried to somehow wrap over not just one girth but now two - with neither being a small one. There’s no space… Another denial arose in her mind as she somehow tried to overcome this challenge, to fill these wondrous maws of the Dark Lady with two massive cocks. … not for two.

But the grasp of the red aspect wouldn’t weaken, her force wouldn’t subside in the slightest; the jaws of Lady Windrunner’s would spread or would be forced open, it wasn’t a discussion. Not that Lady Windrunner could speak with her mouth stuffed with fat, draconic dicks; not that she would oppose being stuffed so badly - after all it, all it took was a single word of her opponent to ensure her attitude was in the right place. 

“Good girl.” Tyrande purred out; her hand and cock shining alike, not from saliva but from the sheer amount of precum that her own monstrous tool was producing. Everything to the sight of her opponent trying to stretch her kisser over something far too big for common sense. 

An effort she would eventually succeed at - with help naturally - leading to her lips being stretched in an obscene way; something that was looking only madder and madder with every inch that she managed to conquer, everything to the sounds that such a thing came with. 

Sylvanas could merely widen her eyes and stare at the giant tools, at every bit that entered her mouth and pushed her jaws more and more open. And it slowly became slower and slower as her maws had a simple limit to how far could they go; her lips kisser could only widen so much and these puffy lips could cling no tighter to the flawless skin. 

"It seems even the Banshee Queen can not take everything thrown at her." Alexstrasza purred out as her younger sister remained silent - the Dreamer was a maiden of few words but certainly big qualities. Lady Windrunner perhaps wanted to say something, bark back as the Life-Binder mocked her cock-devouring attempts, yet all that left her mouth was some indistinguishable mumble, muffled by the sheer amount of dick that was inside her. 

"No matter." The red dragon declared with a promising voice and pulled the pretty head up; allowed puffy lips to slide upwards and collect everything there was. Long ears of the ranger could hear her own choking as she tried to swallow the precum that escaped both dicks. One of scarlet eyes had to close as its owner coughed, had the mixed juices erupt from her maws and adorn the twin cocks ever so more. 

Right before she was pushed back down, before she was forced to stain herself with what she spat and before a new motion was set; one of her going up and down on clenched together, fat tools of the dragons. Sylvanas mumbled something as her little, banshee head began its service in its fullest, slobbering and losing saliva over two tools that cared little about the capabilities of its maws. 

Alexstrasza stared from behind her own steel-clad udders and orchestrated the twin blowjob with utmost satisfaction, Ysera simply watched as her older sister ensured their dicks are slobbered over and the High Priestess of the elves stroked her own tool to the sight of cock-fed Windrunner. 

The Dark Lady would blow well, she would have her tongue pushed into the corner as there was not enough space for it in her own mouth; she could glare at these dicks and her eyes would twitch in a mixture of great effort and anger. Do not think… A thought sprouted inside her mind as she felt the entrance to her throat be kissed by Life-Binder's tool. To look down on me just because… She twitched as she gagged, spilling another portion of saliva that would flow down onto the draconic ballsacks. 

… just because I'm sucking your cocks. 

And this would continue; she would blow and she would slobber, she would make sounds that no sane person could make and her expression - her face that would be forced to take in so many inches of thick, lengthy dick meat - would look worthy of nothing more than a feral animal. 

But in this particular fervour she would not go further than the half of these connected tools, she would simply not possess any means to take as much cock as there was served. And so, she would eventually feel as the green dragoness extended her hand as well, putting it on the pretty prick-sucking head. The motion would grow faster, the pressure on her would mount and mount, all to the sound of ever so faster breathing of the sisters. 

"And so." Alexstrasza began and with bliss raised her eyes into the ceiling, taking her eyes off the Banshee whose head was doing nothing more but bouncing unceremoniously. "It is a mother's duty to feed her children." She smooched softly and then lowered her gaze, suddenly pressing the Banshee with great strength. 

"Even ones as wicked as you." 

What are you… Sylvanas muttered in her mind as she was slammed into the block-point of these tools; as she felt herself be pushed against the wide girths at a border that she couldn't simply pass. This doesn't go any further you winged wretch… She cursed in her mind as the pressure simply mounted up, rising with each passing second. It doesn't work like this… 

But the dragons cared little and as Sylvanas screamed in her mind, the Dreamer merely joined the fray; her hand pressing against the cock-fed head and forcing it down. It doesn't… Thought of the Dark Lady began in anger and ended unfinished, in something akin to panic - all as she suddenly slid down just a little bit more.

"Mother's gift." Alexstrasza purred out before she put the final piece of draconic strength into her hand.

And then these delicious, banshee maws just gave way.

Like this of a cloth doll, Sylvanas' suddenly slid all the way down to the end of these monstrous tools; everything with a wet, mad smack as she met the bottom of them both. Saliva erupted onto these flawless, draconic ballsacks as she slammed near them; as so many fat inches of dick just disappeared in Banshee's throat, as if gone with the wind. 

All there was to declare their presence was the wondrous bulge, a stretched neck of Lady Windrunner, the Queen of the Forsaken who swallowed enough dick for a week. 

Tyrande spread her own elven maws, staring with awe as the impossible was seemingly done; her sharp canines showing as she stroked her own fat tool to the arousing sight of a broken Banshee Bitch. "Like a cheap toy." She purred out as Alexstrasza gently caressed the bulge in purple-pale neck, enjoying just how wondrously spread it was. 

And soon, indeed like a toy, was Sylvanas pulled up, slid upwards unceremoniously to the border of twin cockheads and slammed down again with a wet smack. And again, and again, and again, seemingly passed out and alike a doll, she would move across the many inches of cockmeat and be slid down to stroke these tools with her own insides. 

It would be a timeless while, a time in which you didn't count anything else but the slams of puffy lips and wide mouth - and those came in plenty. All till the dragons took deeper breath each in unison and slammed their Banshee all the way down for the last time. "Life…" Alexstrasza purred out as she grabbed her ballsack with one hand, just to close her eyes afterwards. "... begats life." 

So it arrived, the much desired thickness for which Sylvanas fought; it was bestowed upon her insides swiftly and in kind. It poured from the draconic ballsacks, travelled all the way down to the lovely belly of the Dark Lady and then stuffed it to the brink. Painted it white alike a good meal, alike a feast that was not stopped at any point. 

And as space ran out, it made its way upwards and erupted from the pretty maws; staining the tools of the sisterly aspects and dripping onto the balls, just to eventually meet the end of its path by the heels of the Banshee Queen. The leader who merely twitched a few times and soon, grasped by a long ear, was slowly but surely slid up the two cocks. 

Who once more revealed a great wonder of thick inches and unveiled them to the world, a fit impossible for anyone that would watch as such sizes didn't have a right to hide as well as they did. And while these meaty tools uncovered themselves, each pair of lovely ears could hear the wet sounds of escaping saliva, precum, juices and seed. 

All till puffy lips of the Banshee allowed the first cock to bounce back and then the second, showing them off in their full, sucked and shining glory.

Sylvanas Windrunner fell back onto her chair, her head pulled back in a passed out manner, her eyes absent and rolled. 

"And now…" Tyrande purred, prompting both aspects to look at her. "... let us go with round two." 



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