Chapter 0 - When The Spirit Moves You

Somewhere in Dun Morogh there was a cozy hamlet which nestled itself against the roots of the mountains that protectively encircled the snow-crested valley. Nothing unusual lurked within spitting distance of the village; there were no dark, dank caves bloated with monsters, haunted graveyards, or long-forgotten ruins hiding malevolent secrets within. The only things you were sure to find besides the wind-swept Snow Beetle fields outside of their sleepy town were wild berry bushes, scenic views, and the uncomfortable feeling that you weren’t nearly as alone as you thought you were.

At least that's what the villagers used to believe. 

The hardy dwarves and friendly gnomes populating that nameless settlement were perplexed by the strange incidents that continually occurred just beyond the safety of their homes. It began with soft whooshing noises that rattled the windows on the quietest nights. Then the townsfolk heard the gentle rap-tap-tapping of tiny footsteps racing around the village square. While all were concerned about this sudden oddity around their homes, it was never enough to do anything about.

It became significantly harder for them to continue being blissfully ignorant of what might be skulking right outside their gates after seven separate villagers lethargically staggered back into town with dreamy smiles. They all claimed that, other than being unbelievably exhausted, they felt fine. Some townsfolk were willing and eager to accept these half-truths. The residents of that quiet hamlet wanted to cling to the hope that they could ignore whatever was happening since the villagers didn’t seem to care.

Others, however, weren’t content to simply sit on their hands while things spiraled out of control. They did the most reasonable thing they could think of: they coaxed adventurers to come and investigate whatever enigma was plaguing the lands outside their hamlet so they wouldn’t have to do it themselves. And while many went out to the fields at the village’s behest, none returned with anything of note except for dreamy smiles and lazy swaggering steps.

Many had begun to believe that their quiet little village would never have answers. Others stiffened their resolve and boldly proclaimed they weren’t going to give up that easily. They broadened the scope of their savior search and sent out countless letters. In less than a week every inn and tavern between Ironforge and Thelsamar had their town’s poorly-written plea tack onto a community notice board. The townsfolk prayed to whichever deity felt inclined to listen to them and hoped that someone capable would stumble upon one of their notices.

And that is when a blood elven man arrived at Snow Beetle Fields one winter’s night. He was tired from almost a week's worth of travel, but, despite the muted weariness that clung to him, he felt confident that he would succeed where so many others before him had failed. His name was Ammaelin.

The blood knight’s careful footfalls flattened snow-sprinkled tufts of grass at an even pace. A black leather scabbard housing a sheathed sword hung from his hip and a stowed, sturdy shield gently bounced against his shoulder. Despite the heaviness of his equipment the only visible sign of his passage across the plains was the dull shine given off by his armor whenever it was momentarily bathed by moonlight.

“Whatever is perpetuating these attacks is targeting both men and women. The encounters always occur at night and only to people passing through these fields,” he thought to himself. Ammaelin ran his thumb along the curvature of his powerful jaw as deliberately put together the facts he had at his disposal. “There haven’t been any deaths, either. Everyone returns. They’re lethargic and blissful, but they’re still breathing. A warlock? No, this sounds more like the work of an unbound succubus. But to what end, I wonder?”

The call of a melodious voice snapped him out of his tactical reverie. He couldn’t decipher what had been said, but he was certain the sound had come from somewhere behind his left shoulder.

He whirled around and drew his blade in a fluid motion. His eyes narrowed as he searched for the source of the noise. And what he found was a robe wrapped around a feminine figure moving towards him with soft lazy steps. Then before his eyes, the figure bound within those soft glowing robes materialized and his eyes drank deep.

Ammaelin would’ve described the intangible figure as hauntingly beautiful, but sadly that particular description was also an obnoxious pun he refused to consider. Her bust was ample and large with a soft wobble that bounced with each of the woman’s steps. Her glowing robe flowed around those jiggling mounds like a silken river that drifted and flowered down only disappearing into a luminescent mist where her feet should’ve been. She had broad, childbearing hips that were plainly visible despite the numerous layers of material that blanketed her body. No amount of cloth was capable of fully concealing just how obviously voluptuous this phantom was.

Ammaelin ceased his unintentional fascination and motioned toward the ghostly figure with the tip of her blade. The casual ease with which the ghostly figure approached him was moderately unnerving, but he hid his uneasiness with practiced ease. He pointedly thrust the gleaming tip of his sword in the direction of the approaching apparition to forestall her advance. 

“Hold, ghost. Step no further. I have questions for you. What is it that you’ve done to the others that have crossed your path? Why do you haunt these fields?”

The short-statured specter stopped in place barely three inches away from the sharpened zenith of the weapon aimed at her heart. She halted, tipped back her hoods, and seemed to study him intently. After a pregnant pause the ghost placed a finger onto the flat of his blade and gently angled it down toward the ground.

“Please, stranger,” the ghost murmured, “I mean you no harm. I’ve no desire to harm anyone.” The gnome’s eyes met Ammaelin’s. “I wish you could stay and sing with me for a while.”

The woman’s manner and words were enough to convince Ammaelin to relax the intensity of his combat stance, but he didn’t drop it entirely. Her ability to communicate with others meant that this former gnome was more than a mindless wraith roaming the fields hoping to drain the essence of unsuspecting travelers. The sincerity of her words was almost enough to tempt him to lay down his weapon and investigate her true intentions. Almost.

A thought occurred to Ammaelin and his fingers twitched around the hilt of his sword.

“You say that you mean no harm, but you still haven’t explained what happened to all the others that made your acquaintance. Every last one of them has returned to their village completely drained of their vigor,” Ammaelin said, his eyes narrowing. “I suspect the song you wish to sing with me is a tune meant to mesmerize me.”

Ammaelin felt the gnomish apparition push on the flat of his sword again, but this time he held firm. Whether or not the business end of his weapon would waver was his decision, not hers.

She put her hands on her hips and did something the blood knight didn’t expect: she pouted. “Are you always this suspicious of others? Have I caused any injuries? Did any of my supposed victims seem unhappy?”

“Nay,” the elf admitted, “but none of them can remember what happened to them and they sleep as though you sucked every last mote of energy right out of them.”

The gnome’s robes wobbled enticingly as she giggled. Despite his best efforts to focus on the situation at hand, the elf couldn’t help but imagine what those bountiful breasts might look like if they were unleashed. The thought was more appealing than he felt comfortable admitting.

“I only suck what is offered to me, and only when it’s desired. Is it my fault that the travelers who pass through these fields are unusually generous with their songs?”

Ammaelin’s eyebrow arched. “I’ve a feeling that your songs have very little to do with actual music.”

That coaxed another cutesy laugh out of the shorter woman. She rapped her knuckles against the blade that was still trained on her and smiled mischievously.

“The music I make is more exquisite than anything that can be produced with an instrument. And you’re in luck! I specialize in duets.”

The petite phantom struck before the elf could even begin to respond. She shrugged off her phantasmal robes and then glided around the blood knight’s upraised blade. Ammaelin’s vision was suddenly filled with a pair of round, perky breasts. The cleavage between those mother-watering orbs was so inviting he almost missed his opportunity to catch a glimpse of what else the gnome had been hiding beneath her clothes.

  Ammaelin realized he was staring and tore his gaze away from her body. The ghost had a soft, round face with thick, juicy lips and plump cheeks sprinkled with ruddy-brown freckles. Her pink and blue hair was styled into a pair of voluminous pigtails that jumped for joy whenever she moved. The most striking facial feature the spectral gnome had on display was her eyes. They must’ve been the biggest pair Ammaelin had ever seen. Her eyes were expansive pools of molten silver that you could drown in if you weren’t careful. He shook himself out of whatever daze he was in only to realize those striking, silvery eyes were gazing at him with a mixture of mischief and hopeful wonder.

“Sir knight,” the ghost began, “do you like what you see?”

The veil of smoke at the bottom most part of the spectral gnome twisted into a pair of feet clad in a pair of showy stiletto heels. Almost immediately she raised her knees one after the other and made a show out of her languidly peeling off those flashy shoes. She thoughtless tossed her heels over her shoulder only to have them dissolve into puffs of green-tinged smoke before they could even kiss the ground. The gnome hummed, wiggled her toes, and beamed an impish grin up at Ammaelin.

“You can say no, obviously. Though I can’t promise you won’t hurt my pride if you do. But wouldn’t you rather admit that you do find me drop-dead sexy? I’m dead, not blind.” Her grin widened for reasons other than the awful pun she slipped into her sexual sales pitch. “I won’t stop you if you decide to walk away, but I can promise you making music with me is more fun than anything you’ll find back at the village.”

Ammaelin closed his eyes and considered the gnome’s bizarre proposition. This was not at all how he had expected this encounter to play out.

“It’s true that you haven’t actually done any real harm,” the elf concluded before he lowered his sword. He paused just long enough to pointedly sheathe his weapon before he continued, “but it’s also true that most people are unnerved by the idea of being propositioned by a wraith.” Ammaelin drummed his fingertips along the hilt of his blade in quiet contemplation. “My answer will depend on how you answer my next question. What exactly would I be making music with if I decided to say yes?”

The gnome twisted her lips into a broad smile that reached her eyes and clapped her hands together merrily.

“Gentle Sir Knight, My name is Trudy and I am no true ghost, specter, or even a phantom. You see, I was experimenting with magic and potions one day when POOF something I mixed a little wrong made my body tingle and shift and change.”

“So you… accidentally turned yourself into a ghost?” he asked.

She responded to her astute visitor’s observation with an eager nod and excitedly hopped up and down. “Precisely! Fascinating, isn’t it? I decided it would be fun to play the role I was unintentionally given, so that’s why I’ve been acting the way I have. Did I do a good job? Did I convince you that I was the ghost of Snow Beetle Fields, a phantom ever eager to sing her song with the willing?” The gnome shot a smug look up at the elf. “One day I’ll find a spell or formula that will change me back, but that day isn’t today. Besides! It isn’t every day a woman can study what it’s like to be a ghost without actually having to die first.”

Ammaelin canted his head to the side and said, “You seem like an intelligent, if eccentric, woman. Do you need me to point out that spirits aren’t usually known for fucking whoever they meet?”

Trudy gasped and raised her hands over her cheeks. Her eyes widened in shock. The elf sighed and gestured to him.

“I don’t always speak so formally. Especially when the topic turns lewd. But enough of that…you never answered me.”

Trudy rested her hands on her hips and gave the blood knight a long, stern look. It was the sort of glare that would have been a lot more intimidating if it had come from anything other than a mostly-naked gnome whose pouting lips were curled into a devilish smile. 

“Well…even with a figure like mine, I was never really touched or courted. But as a mysterious spirit I meet all kinds of people! And…as it turns out, some of my visitors crave sex with the otherwordly and I’m only too willing to supply…for science of course!”

“Hmph! For science indeed.” The elf lips curled into a grin, “Then let us play.”

“I am so glad you accept. You are rather handsome and much taller than the townsfolk.”

He reached down until his fingers could caress the gnome’s chubby cheek and trace his fingertips across her freckled skin. She nuzzled into his touch as her body and fingers explored his broad muscular build on their way to his belt.

Ammaelin groaned as the gnome fingered her way around his belt and buckle. His eyes shone as she grabbed the leather around his trousers and tugged it looser and looser. Then, she slapped her palms around the sides of his trousers and tugged them down until the offending garments finally gave way and fell around his ankles.

“You are in a hurry, aren’t you Trudy.” Ammaelin said as his fingers worked the clasps, straps, and clips that kept his breastplate in place.

“Can you blame me?” asked the gnome, “You’re the first elf that has visited me and  quite a handsome one at that.”

“Only if you can blame me. Normally I exorcize spirits, but you inspire different treatment.”

Trudy giggled as she pressed her breasts against the elf’s lap, fitting his swelling bulge against her chest. There was a soft and slightly cool squish that surrounded Ammaelins length. She then floated up and down sliding that heat between her spectral mounds. And though she couldn’t draw breath as an ordinary gnome could, the elf could feel her eager and expectant breaths against his heat.

“If you fuck as well as you speak, sir knight,” said the gnome as her hands roamed up the back of Ammaelin’s legs until she could get a firm grip on his firm ass, “then I’m certain you can yet soothe this spirit.”

Ammaelin grinned as he pulled his breastplate off and discarded it in the nearby grass.

“Then prepare to be banished, wayward spirit.” he said.

Ammaelin grinned as he tugged his breastplate off and set it down to the side. He wanted to comment about the gnome’s beauty as well, but sighed when he felt something warm, tight, and wet beneath his boxers. He looked down and caught the gnome phasing her face through his boxers and felt her lips pinch around the tip of his still soft cock.

“Mnnghh Mnnghh Ahhhh” purred the gnome as her throat welcomed his thick pulsing length. Her tongue flicked across every inch as the masculine scent of sweat and cologne surrounded her senses. “Mngnhhh Nnghh Glllrck.”

Ammaelin groaned as his head rolled back. His eyes slammed shut as he focused on the gnome’s skilled and eager lips and tongue. He was no stranger to sex, but something about the woman was intrinsically wicked and his body relished in all of it.

“Oooh fuck, you nasty slut…” said the elf, “Is this what you do to all the men who visit you?”

Ammaelin felt the gnome’s lips curl into a smile. Even as arousal made his cock harden and swell until it was a beast that stretched the woman’s mouth as wide as it could reach. He stared down at his partner for the eve and saw only her big wide eyes gazing back and the rapid bob of her head as she took him as deep as her shorter body could allow.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned while his hips rolled back and forth pushing his inches down her willing throat. “I’m going to do so many nasty things to you.”

Trudy sucked and slurped on his pulsing meat until she felt his eyes upon her. She then stood up on her tippy toes pressing her tits against his sack and rolling her head back until his cock slipped out of her mouth with a big sloppy wet pop. 

She gasped when she saw how saliva and cum flicked off that bright warm crown. The droplets splashed across her nose, lips, and smeared across her hair. And the dirty thrill of being marked made her pant like a bitch in heat.

She then released her grip on his cock and looked up just in time for that girthy weight to slap down on her face with a sloppy wet thud.

“Do you promise, Sir Knight? This ghost is so horribly wicked and only rough action can get her to behave.”

Ammaelin smirked at the gnome and bent forward. He rested his fingers on her soft shoulders. He curled his fingers and skated them down her back until her big round ass was cupped beneath his fingers.

“Oh, I swear it, you little sweet tart.” he said as he pulled her off her feet, “And we’ll start by feeding your other lips.”

The gnome could only gasp as she was heaved and turned to face him. His hands held onto her wide hips as he guided her to rest with not even an inch separating her lust and his. His eyes wavered from her sensual expression down to her pussy which he could swear was drooling lust upon the snowy field.

And for but a moment he worried if he would hurt her by fucking her so.

But then, she closed her thighs around his dick and made the most comically overdone pouty expression.

“Oh nooooOOOoo” she purred, “The big strong paladin has me in his grasp. What can I possibly do?”

She then stared into his eyes and bit down on her lip. Then she cupped her breasts between her fingers and shook them up and down so he could watch every wobble and ripple and how her nipples stiffened to pebble hard points.

He met her gaze and lowered his voice to a deep growl that rose up from his broad powerfully built chest.

“You’ve but one choice, my sweet specter. Submit, give in, and beg.”

Trudy gasped and wiggled beneath his gaze and grip which only pushed her lips against his cock smearing their lusts against that spectral flesh.

“Oh nooo, I won’t give in. I want to haunt these fields forever and ever and…”

Ammaelin grunted and slammed the gnome down on his cock. And he felt his dick surrounded by her tight wet walls. He hissed as he claimed her in one deep thrust and purred as she closed her legs around his waist and grabbed his wrists as if holding on for dear life.

“Ohhhh yesss~ Fuck me, Sir knight.”

Ammaelin wasted no time and thrust into her soft shortstack body. His eyes drank in the ripples and jiggles of every soft curve while his ears warmed at the sounds of their lewd bodies plapping together. And his cock was red hot and soaking wet as she dripped her phantom lusts in gushing spurts and dripping drops that splashed his hefty nuts and down his thighs.

Ammaelin lost track of how long he remained in the field just fucking the thirsty little ghost. It was hard to care as the couple shared every wicked desire that came to mind and fulfilled those nasty fantasies with joy and aplomb.

For every time he held her down in the snowy field and fucked her big fat ass, she convinced him to let her jerk him off between her tits until he glazed her lips in seed. For every time he held her against a tree and fucked her curvy and whorish body, she convinced him to taste her as she rode his face like a noble steed.

The only indication that time had even passed at all was the growing soreness that made his body ache from head to toe, or the caress of the dawning sunlight across his nude and lust-addled flesh. But by then, they had collapsed in a heap on a blanket made of his clothing.

She was smiling sweetly and tracing math problems across his chest with a gentle fingertip, when he reached down and cupped her cheek. She smile and tipped her head up looking into his eyes.

“Now that I’m too tired to fuck,” he said with a chuckle, “something occurs to me.”

The gnome looked up and waited for his question.

“If you truly laid with so many travelers and adventurers, then why doesn’t more of the village know? They all look so happy and blissful but never say anything about you or what happened.”

The gnome giggled and drew another equation on his chest, tracing the equal sign over his right nipple.

“Well, I may have omitted one small detail…” she said.

“Let me guess, you draw memories away?”

She dematerialized to hide her blush. But he could still feel the heat of her body against his chest and how her finger had moved to another mathematics equation, this time drawn just beneath his throat.

“Only a little! I don’t want a whole village coming out to have sex with me…in fact, I only come out if my visitors interest me…and if they don’t match up, I let them forget everything but how good they felt…I”m not that cruel after all.”

He blinked and looked down towards what he assumed were those big playful eyes of hers.

“Then will you take my memories away?”

She rubbed her head against his chest from side to side.

“No, because I’m hoping you’ll come and visit me again. As long as I”m stuck like a ghost…I wouldn’t mind having a LITTLE more fun.”

Ammaelin grinned and caressed his hand down her body until he found and swatted her fat round rear.

“I suppose the spirit could move me. But, next time I'm bringing blankets and a tent. And plenty of food and drink to banish you over an entire weekend.”

The gnome remained invisible and kissed her way down his chest, his abs, and finally up and along his shaft. She wrapped her hands around his cock and caressed it from base to tip then slapped it down against her body. She kissed his crown and drooled over his crown.

“The sun’s almost up. Let’s see if the wicked ghost can drain you one last time before I poof.”

Ammaelin smiled as she swallowed his cock and said, “My! You are a hungry little slut.”

She hummed in agreement as she forced him down her willing throat.