Lena Trueshield Ch. 02

They'd been riding for two days and their supplies were running low. Lena looked up in the air as her traveling companion, the young-looking Night Elf druid, Shalendris, climbed up a pine tree. It seemed the coniferous trees were the only ones that had managed to survive the corruption that seeped into everything, even though a lot of them were turning the same sickly shade as the rest of the region's flaura. A lot of them were even covered with large, green pustules that Lena knew would eventually turn them into the massive mushrooms that could be seen in some areas.

"Do you see anything?" she half-shouted, not wanting to draw too much attention to themselves. Especially considering she was without a weapon. No doubt the pair would be able to defend themselves if they had to, but she preferred not to take such a chance. Especially considering their distance from Light's Hope Chapel and Tyr's Hand.

Light's Hope Chapel was controlled, she knew, by the Argent Dawn. "Traitorous scum..." she muttered under her breath. Originally, the main force fighting the Undead had been the Knights of the Silver Hand. However, the order had been disbanded by the crown prince Arthas Menethil. They later reformed under Alexandros Mograine's command and under new banners. However, that proved to be short lived (quite literally) as Mograine was slain and the Crusade split into three groups. The Brotherhood of the Light, the Argent Dawn and the Scarlet Crusade who had stayed loyal to the cause.

"I see nothing that we should worry about! I'd say we're only a few hours away from Light's Hope!" shouted the druidess from atop the tree. Though she had the power to turn into a large storm crow to survey the land, she preferred not to risk an attack from the huge bats and gargoyles that patrolled the skies.

"Good, good..." replied Lena, her voice nearly a whisper as Shalendris dropped back down in front of her. She'd be able to take a gryphon to fly down to Tyr's Hand, which would barely take half of an hour, she estimated.

"Come on, now! No time to waste!" said the cheerful Kaldorei, already seated upon her large black nightsaber.

Lena nodded before hopping into her own mount before departing along with her companion. Even though the druid was one of the savage Night Elves, she had grown somewhat fond of the purple-skinned woman. Her personality was a sharp contrast to the human's, but they got along. The only problem, however, was that Shalendris was part of the Argent Dawn, which would make their friendship difficult at best.

The two rode quietly on, avoiding the roads and trying to avoid any undead they spotted. Sometimes, they'd stop as Shalendris pointed to a mound of dirt further up ahead which signaled the presence of either a burrowed Ghoul or Nerubian. The Nerubians, large spider-like creatures with human-like torsos and spider-like abdomens, would often burrow through the ground, creating vast networks of tunnels from which they'd attack unsuspecting travelers.

Shalendris had proved quite efficient at detecting such dangers. Lena had been told druids had the power to communicate with surrounding flora and fauna, which, she guessed, was how she knew where to go and how to avoid danger so easily.

A slight smirk crossed the paladin's lips as she noticed the Night Elf staring at her breasts. As she rode, the newly inflated set of breasts would bounce and jiggle beneath her rather tight linen shirt. How she wished she'd brought a bra with her or at least something to stop the incessant jiggling. Not that she minded the attention, but the sensations were rather distracting.

Every now and again, she'd look back at the Night Elf, noticing the same impressive bulge she'd grown accustomed to seeing. "Poor thing," she thought to herself as the enormous she-dick strained against those druidic robes.

--

The sun was already setting when they both arrived at Light's Hope Chapel. The Chapel stood atop a small hill, serving as the Argent Dawn's main base of operations. It was a wonder the tiny encampment surrounding Light's Hope had managed to survive for so long, considering they had no walls or fortifications whatsoever and given the fact that it was barely half a day's ride from many Scourge strongholds.

Surely there was some secret to the organization's survival. Untouched by the Scourge it seemed, Light's Hope's ground had not been spared. The plants surrounding the encampment withered and dead, the ground just as sickly as the rest of the former kingdom.

The more she approached the Chapel, the more she felt she knew why it had managed to survive for as long as it did. Indeed, she felt the Light, though invisible, surround her, as though protecting her. It warmed her against the chilly breeze and made her feel safe. This was a feeling she had never known while training in Hearthglen. Had the Light chosen its champions?

She was drawn from her thoughts by Shalendris' voice. "Well, here we are! Gryphon master's over there. He'll let you fly to Tyr's Hand for a few silver. If you've got no coin on you, I can give you some," she offered with a kind smile.

"Thank you, I'll be just fine... Though, may I leave my steed here for a little while? May I trust you to take care of it?" Lena's hand slowly caressed the animal in question's short fur gently, running her hand along its neck down to its side.

With a laugh, the druid nodded. "Of course, you know I'd never mistreat any beast."

--

Saying goodbye to her friend, the Paladin had given the gryphon master a few silver coins before riding off on the winged beast. Looking down, she noticed her bust had gained some size. Raising her eyebrows at this new development, the paladin couldn't help but grasp the two pale orbs of flesh. They definitely felt larger and a tad heavier. What could have caused such a thing? Could the Holy Light surrounding Light's Hope Chapel have done this to her in the same way the druid's magic did?

Brushing such questions aside, she spotted Tyr's Hand in the distance. It was, compared to Light's Hope, absolutely massive. Fortunately, there were no Scourge gargoyles or bats inbetween the two settlements as the Scarlet Crusade and Argent Dawn's gryphon riders managed to keep the skies free of such disgusting creatures.

Not wanting to risk getting shot out of the sky, knowing just how paranoid some Scarlet Crusaders were, she decided to land her beast in the woods not too far from the city gates.

As she came upon the closed gates of Tyr's Hand, Lena leaned her head back and shouted at the two guards posted atop the walls. "Let me through!" she demanded.

"Sorry! Only members of the Scarlet Crusade may enter Tyr's Hand! Inquisitor's orders!" was the reply.

Obviously... she thought to herself, grumbling. She had lost her armor in her fight with the necromancer a few days ago and could not find her weapon. She had no true way of proving who she was. "This is Crusader Lena Trueshield. I demand to speak with the Inquisitor in charge!"

A few minutes passed by in silence before the gates finally opened. Barely enough to let the blonde woman through, even forcing her to move in sideways to get through the gates, which caused her huge breasts to rub against the wooden gate. She frowned, the sensation quite unpleasant.

On the other side, two guards waited for her, weapons drawn. "If you'll follow us, the Inquisitor will see you now." The two men were quite tall, wearing the usual colors of the Scarlet Crusade. Their faces hidden beneath those deep red helms, she knew their eyes were probably glued to the twin globes barely held by her thin linen tunic. She could also feel her hardened nipples poking against the fabric which, no doubt, only gave them more reasons to stare at her overinflated chestpillows.

The escort followed her through what had once been one of the most prosperous cities in Lordaeron. Now, it was but a shadow of its former self, Scarlet banners fluttering about here and there. Oh, the people living there still managed to live fairy normal lives in the shadow of the Scourge as it was the only city in the Plaguelands with access to the sea. Though the land was less decayed and sick than outside its walls, Tyr's Hand's lands produced less crops than required to sustain its population. To help with this, they would often trade with the Alliance, giving gold (which they had plenty of) in exchange for far more valuable food and supplies.

Finally, they arrived at the city's church. It stood atop a hill, looking over the rest of Tyr's Hand. Its structure was composed mostly of nearly pure white stone with a huge bell tower that only enhanced the building's already imposing presence.

Inside they went. It was mostly empty save for a couple of priests praying at the altar. The light of the setting sun filtered through the stained glass windows, illuminating the inside. In the central aisle, a carpet of a deep red extended from the door to the altar. She could barely hear a sound save for her muffled steps as well as the two other guards' as they walked that carpet. She almost felt as though the armored pair following her were there to protect her, but it was quite the opposite as they were there to make sure she went to the right place.

Before reaching the altar, however, she and the guards following her made a sharp turn. She knew full well just where the Inquisitor usually hid. Slowly, they descended a flight of spiraling stairs, the walls going from white to gray, illuminated by torches every twenty steps or so. Down and down they went into the relative darkness of the Inquisitor's "workplace".

As they finally reached the bottom of the steps, they could finally hear some sounds coming through the thick wooden door blocking entrance to the room at the end. The nameless guard knocked on the door. Once. Twice. The sounds on the other side of the door suddenly stopped. A few moments later, it opened, revealing a man dressed in the usual attire of the Scarlet Inquisitors, which wasn't all that different from their priests, she thought.

Inquisitors, however, were not known for their desire to help and heal the sick and wounded. Feared by both living and dead, they used the knowledge they possessed of the Holy Light to torture their victims, sometimes out of pleasure, sometimes out of necessity. The line was often blurred with such sadists.

"Oh, come on in. I'd be lying if I said I didn't expect company," said the Inquisitor which she knew by name as Inquisitor Isillien. She had seen him a few times, heard rumors about him, but never had the "honor" of speaking to such an esteemed member of the Crusade. He was a man in his mid-thirties with auburn hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. At a first glance, one would think him as pleasant as most other priests. She knew this wasn't the case, however, and being brought down below the church made her feel extremely uneasy.

The Inquisitor gestured for Lena to come in and she did so with a nod, no words coming from her mouth. "Thank you," he said to the guards as he shut the door behind Lena.

Inside, tied to a rack was one of the undead, its flesh a sickly shade of grey as its wrists and ankles were bound to the wooden device. Though most other undead were savage and bestial in nature, this one stared at her with surprising intelligence behind its glowing yellow eyes. She nearly felt pity for the thing, noticing burn marks as well as a multitude of cuts on its flesh.

"Now, now. What is it you wish of me? I do hope you have good reason for this interruption," said Inquisitor Isillien with a smirk.

"I demanded to speak to you of matters most important, also concerning the mission I was sent on," she explained. "I am Crusader Lena Trueshield, sent to Westdale to investigate the undead threat. I found nothing there but a lone necromancer. I am afraid the Scourge may be harvesting the wandering souls of the dead to empower their constructs in the region," she continued, though his face held no reaction to her words. "I came to see you as I knew you were the only one in a position of command present in Tyr's Hand."

His response took far too long for her liking. "Miss Trueshield, I'm afraid you were reported killed in action two days ago..." As he spoke, he eyed her up and down, his gaze lingering for half a second longer on her bust, either out of curiosity, disgust or lust, she could not tell. She did know, however, that her tunic strained heavily against the two pale orbs of flesh and averting one's gaze from such endowments was a monumental task that even the most devout of priests would find difficult.

However, him gazing briefly at her breasts troubled her far less than hearing how she'd been reported dead. "I... what?" She was shocked to hear it, unable to understand who would do this and why.

"Come, I think you should go have a rest. I'll be up most of the night, so you may sleep in my own private quarters, Crusader. If you wish to bathe yourself, I'll ask the servants to draw some water for you." Then, Isillien smiled at her, for the first time showing what seemed like genuine concern over her situation.

Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, but she still felt somewhat uneasy. The rumors flying around about the inquisitors had to be more than just rumors for them to have earned such a reputation amongst the living and the dead of Lordaeron. She was led to Isillien's room and decided to jump into bed fully clothed without even bathing, even if it had been over two days since she'd last done so.

The Inquisitor slept in a room on the second floor of the church. The room in question was rather plain-looking and it was obvious by the looks of it that he spent very little time actually in it. She blew out the candle beside the bed and drifted off to sleep, which was no difficult task considering the last few days she'd been through. It only took a few seconds before sleep overtook her tired body.

--

She felt cold. So cold.

"Rise and shine, Ms. Trueshield," said a familiar voice.

As she opened her eyes to look around, it only took her a moment to realize she was not in the same room she'd fallen asleep in. Trying to move her arms proved futile, as she was bound to some sort of wooden device. Her legs suffered the same fate, ankles bound tightly, legs spread at the same angle as her arms.

Looking down, she noticed just how naked she was. Her breasts were on full display as well as her nether regions. "What the-" she started speaking but was soon interrupted by the same voice that she was woken up by, though this time it came from behind her.

"Now, did you truly think I'd let an impostor like yourself run free through our ranks?" came the voice. She immediately recognized it as Inquisitor Isillien's, watching him as he slowly made his way in front of her. His feet made no sound as he moved along the gray stone floor, matching the walls and ceiling.

Only a few candles and torches lit the room, sitting on tables and hanging from walls. It was then that she realized she was on the same rack she'd seen the Undead male the evening before. She could easily guess what had happened to the poor soul. She rarely empathized with the dead, but this one seemed to have an intelligence to its eyes that others did not, causing her to feel some small amount of pity for it.

However, this was no time to think about such matters, considering the predicament she found herself in. "Impostor? Are you mad?" she replied, trying to wriggle free of her bonds once more, though the movements only caused her chest to bounce and jiggle about.

"It is my job to sniff out the agents of the scourge, those who carry the taint of death and you carry it within you..." he said, pointing an accusing finger at her face. "And within those!" His finger moved downwards to her enormous breasts. The Inquisitor stepped forward, pressing his finger into her massive mounds to emphasize his point.

She shivered slightly at the touch, her hardened nipples poking out against the room's cold air.

"You must be purified!" he cried out, thrusting his open palm in her direction. From it, a ball of holy light flew out, hitting her in the stomach. She felt a very sharp pain in her entire body, as though every nerve was set aflame, as though every inch of her body was being punctured by flaming hot needles... Then, it stopped. The pain lasted barely a second before vanishing.

Noticing just how little pain his spell seemed to inflict upon her, he snarled with annoyance. Trying again, this time his shock of light shooting from his finger like a lightning bolt. Once more, the same feelings of intense pain shook her body and vanished.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Extreme confusion and anger marked the Inquisitor's facial expression as he found that none of his spells seemed to do her any harm. Even if no darkness dwelled within her, those spells would have been enough to drown anyone or anything in pain. He was one of the highest ranked members of the Scarlet Crusade! She would show him respect!

Then, without warning, she let out a long moan as the intense pain from both spells seemed to convert to pleasure within her body. The pain, now gone, was amplified tenfold as it traveled from the tips of her toes and fingers towards her breasts, every muscle in her body taken by overwhelming bliss.

What lasted only a few seconds in reality felt like hours as she reached orgasm repeatedly in that short amount of time, her cunt gushing out impossible amounts of juices onto the rack and onto the floor. Though her eyes were shut, she could nearly see the fireworks going off in her mind. A spell designed to cause such intense pain had instead made her feel the exact opposite, causing a chain of orgasms. She thought she'd go mad from the pleasure, her cunt spasming violently, every muscle in her body unable to move due to the indescribable pleasure she was feeling.

When it finally stopped, she opened her eyes to the sight of Isillien's cock inches from her face. He'd lowered the rack down so she was lying down parallel to the ground, obviously turned on by the lewd display. The holy man could not keep it in his pants, it seemed (or robes, in this case), the deep red garments around his waist as he placed his hand behind the blonde paladin's head, moving his hips forward as though he was thrusting a spear.

In truth, his cock would have better ben compared to a club due to its impressive thickness. She didn't care, however, as she opened her mouth to let the throbbing cock into her hungry maw.

"Look at these fucking tits," he growled as his hands went to her breasts. It was then that she realized how sensitive they were and, out of the corner of her eye, noticed just how larger they'd gotten. They felt heavier, too. She hadn't noticed their growth during those moments of insane pleasure. It was hard to tell from her current perspective, but it almost seemed as though they'd doubled in size, now easily one and a half times the size of her own head.

This confirmed it, she thought. It wasn't just the druid's magic that caused them to grow. The intensity of the spells used also affected how much they grew. Those thoughts were rapidly erased as the horny Inquisitor thrust into her mouth, using her mouth as though he were using a sex toy, his balls slapping against her chin, her nose brushing against his trimmed pubes with every thrust.

Perhaps she was more of a slut than she thought, her tongue circling around the cock's helm, though not without some difficulty due to the incessant thrusting. She sucked on the thick log of a cock, feeling its veins against her tongue and lips as it moved in and out at an ever increasing pace.

When he'd had enough, he pulled out of her mouth with a loud schlurp. With a hungry gaze, he walked in front of her, kneeling between her spread legs, still bound to the wooden rack. He then aimed his fat prick with the entrance of her womanhood, pressing the throbbing head against her wet folds. Moving his hips forward, he grunted slightly. His thickness surprised her and she moaned as her extremely sensitive hole was penetrated. He found very little resistance as he inched his rod into her, her soaked snatch providing ample lubrication as he stretched her slowly.