c17

It was happening. There was a part of Sylvanas that had been expecting something to go wrong, or for it all to turn out to be some grand hoax.

But no, it really did seem to be happening. The Restoration Serum stood up to even the most paranoid scrutiny and testing that the Forsaken could devise. Undead rats and volunteers were brought back to life without issue. Not always mentally sound, but that was in keeping with the warnings they had been given.

Since the announcement had gone out, things had been… strange, among the Forsaken. Like a funeral in reverse, with everyone who had the option making living arrangements in preparation of leaving behind the graveyard that was Lordaeron. The kingdom might be restored one day, once the necromantic taint poisoning it was purged, but for the moment the Forsaken were planning to abandon it. Already, they had started destroying the mindless undead they had in their service, the ghouls and abominations and the poor souls whose minds had already faded under the weight of their condition.

The only reminder that they all seemed to collectively choose to keep came at the hands of one of the few orcs among their number, who happened to be a tattoo artist. They all decided to have the mark of the Forsaken inked on their arms once they were brought back, as a sign of the suffering they'd shared.

Sylvanas wasn't too sure about that herself, since part of the mark of the Forsaken was literally a representation of her face. Still, that was for after.

"Are you ready?" Vereesa asked softly, holding the large needle.

Her sister had insisted on being present at her revival and Sylvanas couldn't refuse her. It was already far more of a spectacle than she would have wished, with what seemed like half the Forsaken lurking outside the door, waiting to see their leader alive again. Even if they already 'knew' that the Serum worked, seeing her walk into the room undead and coming out alive would be the final proof that their torment was ending.

Sylvanas nodded and bit down harder on the cloth gag in her mouth, straining against the tough leather restraints binding her to the table. She loathed the necessity of being bound like this, but they'd learned their lesson about the need for it.

Her eyes briefly flicked over to Nathanos, her most trusted and loyal subordinate, even more so than the Dark Rangers in some ways. He was never much of a talker, so he merely nodded to show his support, but that simple gesture conferred volumes of meaning.

Vereesa hesitated only a moment more before her expression firmed and she stabbed the needle deep into Sylvanas' chest.

The Banshee Queen felt her undead flesh be pierced, but there was no pain connected to it. That came after the plunger was depressed and the gold-silver liquid gushed into her unbeating heart. It burned like molten fire pouring into her veins, scouring the necromantic energy from her body even as it revitalized the flesh.

Sylvanas had been healed by Light magic as an undead before and that had burned, but nothing like this. It was every bit as horrible as the moment when Arthas had turned her into a banshee, when the magic so vile and cold it felt like it burned had invaded her soul before tearing it from her body. This time it was the other way around, cleansing fire burning away the cold that had made her so numb and shackling her to the body it was trying to escape from.

She didn't know how long the torment lasted before the blurry image of her sister was in front of her.

"Sylvanas?" Vereesa asked urgently, pulling out the gag. "Are you alright?"

Her jaw was sore biting down on the gag, and her throat even sorer from screaming. Her resolve to endure it quietly hadn't lasted long at all, and she now fully understood what Harry had meant when he said that he could think of nothing crueler he could do to her.

"Yes." She managed to reply hoarsely, relishing the pains and aches that had been absent during the years of undeath. Her heart thundered against her chest, beating so fast that it seemed like it was trying to make up for lost time.

Vereesa and Nathanos unbound her and she staggered to her feet, having to lean on her sister just to stand. The urge to hug Vereesa was startling in its contrast to the jealous, hateful impulse to strangle the warmth out of her, which was what she had felt during their embrace in Theramore. Sylvanas had been paying close attention to such impulses ever since Harry had mentioned the nature of all undead, but she hadn't realized just how pervasive that unnatural hatred had become.

"You're alive again." Vereesa crowed joyously, initiating the hug that Sylvanas had resisted out of habit. "You may look different, but you're alive again, and that's all that matters."

A stone dropped into her newly active stomach as her sister's words penetrated. She looked at her hands, once more a healthy living shade instead of their previous corpselike pallor… but they weren't her hands. They were the hands she had been using for the past few years, but they weren't hers.

They belonged to one of her ranger subordinates, whom Arthas had had dragged before him before ordering her to possess. Sylvanas still remembered the woman's terrified face as her banshee self lunged into her body, could still remember sensing her horror as her soul was brutally displaced from her body so that she could puppet it around.

And in all the years she had been free from the Lich King's control, she had not spared a thought for that woman, for the ranger that had once served under her and even admired her.

Bile rose up in her throat and she pushed Vereesa away so as to not vomit on her. In a corner of her mind not currently occupied by horror and self-loathing as it went over all the other monstrous things she'd done as a free undead and considered necessary, Sylvanas realized that no, the pain she'd suffered to be brought back to life wasn't why restoring her was cruel. This was why.

There was nothing in her stomach, so she was left dry heaving for a while until her body settled down a little. A linen towel was offered to her by a rotting hand and she had to suppress a shiver of disgust at the sight of it. What an incredible change in perspective being alive again had given her.

Still, she took the towel Nathanos was offering and wiped her mouth, then took the bottle of water in his other hand and rinsed away the burning taste of stomach acid.

"Thank you." She said quietly and the only human to have ever been trained by the rangers of Quel'Thalas again merely nodded in silence.

"Here." Vereesa said worriedly, offering a letter. "Harry said I should give this to you when, and I quote, 'she pukes or a day passes, whichever comes first'."

Wondering what game the entirely too canny archmage was playing, Sylvanas cautiously took the letter and opened it.

Dear Former Banshee Queen,

Feeling uncomfortable in your stolen body yet? I can help with that.

Harry,

- Master Necromancer

- Master Fleshcrafter

Was he implying that he could make her a new body? She did remember him making some perverse boast about it to Jaina Proudmoore in Naxxramas, but she hadn't thought much of it at the time.

If he could… owing him more favors would be distasteful, but not nearly as distasteful as using the stolen body of her subordinate.

XXXXX

Harry awoke, not buried under female flesh as he normally did. The only one in bed with him was Colette – the other three girls having gone to continue their efforts to shrink the felwood – and she had rolled away from him in her sleep.

The former death knight enjoyed sleeping to an almost slothful degree – a consequence of being unable to indulge in it while undead. Alas for her, Harry was wide awake and had his usual case of morning wood to take care of, and she was practically sticking her sexy rear end in his direction.

Carefully so as to not wake her, he positioned himself and cast a lubrication spell on his member.

I wonder if I could add a gland for that into the next generation of bodies? The idle thought was brushed aside for later.

With a single hard thrust, he hilted himself in Colette's tight love tunnel. She woke up with a noise of confused surprise, but Harry rolled on top of her before she could do more than that, tangling his left hand in her hair and pinning her to the bed, while his right began roughly fondling her breast.

"You beast, assaulting a woman while she sleeps." Colette moaned, hands grabbing at the sheets.

"You're mine. I'll take you whenever and wherever I feel like it." He growled into her ear, biting at the tip just hard enough to hurt a little.

Colette tightened around him at his words and a gush of fluids rendered the earlier artificial lubrication unnecessary. A keening moan resonated in her throat as she bit into the pillow.

"Cumming already?" He murmured into her ear, not letting up on his bites or rough pinching of her nipple. His thrusts into her became deeper, pulling out almost completely before slamming all the way back in, his tip just barely poking at her cervix. "It's like you enjoy being treated like my personal cocksleeve.

Colette just continued shuddering under him, too distracted by the way he was dragging out her orgasm to reply.

"Maybe I should take you with me to my workshop next time." Harry grunted in between thrusts. "I could keep you tied helpless to a wall, gagged and blindfolded, with your ankles up at the level of your head. Then I could dump a load of cum into your thirsty cunt whenever I got hard and just go back to work afterwards."

She groaned deeply at the dirty talk and Harry could feel her excitement rising again. Good, because he was getting close as well.

"Fill me up!" Colette near-begged, hovering at the edge of her second orgasm. "I need you, inside!"

That was all the invitation he needed. With a final grunt and thrust, he buried himself as deep as he could, making sure that his urethra was pressed tightly against her cervix. It had opened up a bit from his insistent prodding of it and her orgasm, so once he let loose, he was firing all of his hot, sticky seed directly into her womb.

Colette bit down on the pillow again and groaned under him in the throes of her climax, her vaginal canal contracting tightly in its efforts to milk every last drop out of him. Harry was happy to just keep her pinned in place and let it happen, letting out a rumbling noise of pleasure as his balls were drained.

"Mmm, now that is a good way to wake up." Colette sighed a sigh of deepest satisfaction once they came down from their orgasmic highs.

"I aim to please." Harry smirked and rolled her over a little so that he could kiss her without actually pulling out.

She returned it enthusiastically and smirked back once it ended. "And just so you know, I wouldn't mind being tied to a wall like that for you to use. Just don't leave me hanging there – I'd get bored."

"So noted." He gave her another peck on the lips and pulled out. "Also, nice pun."

Colette paused for a moment and then facepalmed with a rueful chuckle. "I didn't even notice."

"Come on, let's get something to eat." Harry suggested, pulling on a pair of boxers. He normally wouldn't bother putting on even that much just yet, but they had a guest at the moment.

Colette stretched hedonistically on the massive bed, rubbing her stomach a few times before slumping in relaxation. She took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling as if considering the idea and then nodded, heaving herself up.

She also disdained getting fully dressed and stuck with just a very thin silk robe that barely covered anything. With the other four of them having a distinctly blasé attitude towards nudity, it hadn't taken Colette long to abandon whatever propriety she'd been taught as the daughter of a minor noble house in Lordaeron.

Thus minimally clad, they ambled down to the common area to grab some breakfast. Garona happened to already be there, seemingly trying to read a book but practically vibrating with restless energy.

"Good morning." Harry gave her a jaunty wave.

"… It's afternoon." The half-orc replied slowly. "Late afternoon."

"Yeah, but our sleep schedule is fucked, so morning for us these days is whenever we wake up." He shrugged. "Anyway, are you doing alright?"

"Fine." She assured.

"Dear, you look to be in desperate need of some vigorous physical activity." Colette chuckled, suggestively deepthroating a banana.

"Colette's suggestion aside, we can also spar later if you want." Harry offered a less lewd alternative. "We are also planning an expedition into the Emerald Dream to cleanse it of corruption if you want to join us. Either way, please consider this tower your home for as long as you like."

"Thank you." Garona replied uncomfortably, clearly unused to being welcome anywhere. "When will you be going to the Emerald Dream?"

"I still have a few loose ends to tie up with the Forsaken, but other than that we should be good to go as soon as the other girls come back from Felwood."

"I wonder if Luna's idea to take Sally with them bore any fruit?" Colette pondered.

XXXXX

Meanwhile, in the Felwood.

"Die, demon!" Sally Whitemane cried fanatically, calling down blasts of Holy Light on an unfortunate satyr. "Burn in holy fire!"

"Are you sure this was a good idea?" Jessir leaned over to whisper in Luna's ear. "I don't see how this is going to make her less crazy."

"It's called catharsis and it's a well-established therapeutic technique." Luna insisted firmly. "Just look at how well it's working for Arko, and this way they can bond over a shared activity."

The other night elf let out a cry of exultation as she rammed her Holy Moonlight Greatsword into another satyr's guts and continued charging forward until his back hit a tree.

"Right." Jessir said dubiously, quickly nocking an arrow and firing it at a satyr that thought it was being clever with a flanking maneuver. "Arko! Pay attention to your surroundings!"

The moonlight paladin turned around to see another satyr rushing in her direction.

"That one's mine!" She roared back in Jessir's general direction, beginning to glow with the telltale light of Elune.

The satyr, either not realizing the danger or too deep in his hatred for night elves to care, pounced on the 'unarmed' Arko… and got punched in between the legs… by the spiked knuckles of her gauntlets.

Its leap attack brutally foiled, the goat-like demon gave a choked bleeting sound as it bounced off Arko's armored form, her stability supernaturally enhanced by the power of her goddess. If it was hoping for any kind of reprieve, then it was sorely disappointed, as the night elf set about beating it to death with very unpaladin-like glee.

Jessir sighed and sniped at any other satyr's that thought to go after her friend while she was… occupied. Needless to say, she had serious doubts about Harry's 'the best way to deal with a grudge is to satisfy it' idea.

That being said… she wasn't terribly fond of satyrs herself.

"Ooh, I think that's their leader." Luna exclaimed, pointing at a satyr that seemed to be braying out orders. She swung her staff at him and said "Whoosh!" And a wave of billowing, frothing, silver fog rushed across the camp, horribly burning everything demonic and impure as if it was made of acid, but leaving Sally and Arko unharmed.

"I thought you didn't like causing harm?" Jessir asked warily over the agonized wailing.

"I haven't hurt anyone." Luna said serenely.

"… I see."

XXXXX

Back at the tower.

"I'm sure they're fine." Harry said. "Luna knows what she's doing. Usually."

XXXXX

As the days passed, Garona was slowly able to relax. Harry's easy-going manner assured her that his lack of resentment for the assassination attempt was genuine. Jessir, Arko and Colette had been a bit standoffish at first, but still far less hostile than she was used to. And Luna's excessive affection was something she had no idea at all how to deal with.

Initially, she had planned to escape at the first opportunity, then she had amended that to doing it as soon as they killed Cho'Gall… but then the door was left open for her, to stay and go as she wished, with the weapons and armor she had been given hers to keep.

And they were both magnificent. The Blades of Silence were just as good as the Kingslayers, but far cleaner. And the bodysuit was both comfortable and protective without hindering her stealth.

Garona couldn't justify just vanishing on them after all they'd given her. Personal honor had been one of the things she clung to during her slavery to Gul'Dan and the Old Horde, as much as she was able to at any rate. And that meant not running away from her debts.

She could have settled the debt she owed in other ways, but Luna had asked her to stay for a while, and so Garona felt like she had no choice but to agree.

That was why she was almost happy when Sylvanas Windrunner arrived at the tower, accompanied by her sister and the leader of the Kirin Tor. It was probably unnecessary, but she quickly geared up and stalked the visitors as they met with Harry, on the off chance that they would try something.

That, and she was also curious. A part of her was still expecting Harry's kindness to be a front for something else. Medivh had been kind to her as well, and he had ended up being possessed by Sargeras. Harry had far too many similarities to her old lover for her to trust him easily.

"Your letter said that you could help." Sylvanas Windrunner said tersely after the greetings were done.

The leader of the Forsaken was obviously no longer undead, but her tone and manner displayed no happiness about it. Spotting weakness was second nature to Garona and there was something terribly brittle about the resurrected high elf right now.

"Then I was right in my assumption that being brought back to life has made you uncomfortable using that body?" Harry asked.

"Yes." Her response was even more terse.

"Then yes, I can help. This body of mine is the third one I am occupying, counting the one I was born with. I can easily enough make one for you and any other Forsaken that need it." Here Harry gave a sideways glance towards the man she knew to be Rhonin Redhair. "Hopefully without Kirin Tor interference? This will involve some less than publicly acceptable magic."

Garona didn't miss the imploring look Vereesa Windrunner gave to her husband.

"I have been assured to my satisfaction by both Jaina and Lady Tyrande that your use of the darker magical arts is being sufficiently monitored, so the rest of the Kirin Tor need not know the specifics." Rhonin said wrily. "My colleagues mean well most of the time, but their rigidity would not be a boon in this situation."

"Alright, then please follow me to my workshop and we can discuss the specifics."

The four of them moved and Garona carefully skulked behind them. Now that she knew what this visit was about, she had no more fears that the two elves and the Kirin Tor archmage were assassins, but she was still curious.

Garona had been in Harry's workshop before, when he made her daggers and bodysuit, but this time they were going to a different section of it. One that she was unfamiliar with.

"By the Light…? What is this?!" The horrified exclamation came when Garona was still outside the room, so she increased her pace and quickly slipped inside.

The cause of the exclamation became immediately evident. The room was full of glass containers both large and small. Many of them were filled with disembodied organs, severed limbs, even brains with spinal columns still attached.

"How many people have you been taking apart?!" Vereesa demanded angrily, instinctively reaching for a dagger.

Garona was conflicted. What Harry was apparently doing was pretty horrible, but…

"Don't get your panties in a twist." The archmage in question waved off dismissively. "None of this stuff ever belonged to anyone. It's all vat-grown."

That gave the three guests and one hidden watcher pause.

"You can just… grow body parts?" Rhonin asked with a raised eyebrow, a little bewildered. "Like they were plants?"

"Not quite the same way, obviously." Harry corrected. "But in the end, bodies are just machines. Very complex, biological machines, but machines nonetheless. Without a soul to animate them, they aren't anything special."

"And how will this help me and my Dark Rangers?" Sylvanas asked emotionlessly. "I would prefer to not be pieced together like one of the Scourge's abominations."

"Growing whole bodies is actually easier than just parts of them." Harry chuckled. "I can take a sample of your sister's blood for a template and use an artificial womb to start the gestation process. We add your soul to the mix and the embryo should grow to be identical to your old body. Your Dark Rangers will unfortunately have to be content with an approximation, unless they have living relatives willing to donate blood or know the location of their old bodies."

"I see." Garona could see the tightly controlled hope in the formerly undead Windrunner's demeanour. "How long would this process take? I assume that I would not have to relive my childhood?"

"The artificial womb accelerates maturation and you would be 'born' fully grown." Harry assured. "From your perspective it would take several weeks of deep sleep, but thanks to my time chambers, it would only be a few minutes on the outside."

"And what would this cost me?"

"Hmm." Harry rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I don't have any immediate needs, so how about we leave it for another day? Having someone like you owe me a favor will probably come in handy eventually."

The resurrected high elf was clearly not happy about that, but she nodded anyway.

"I would like to be present for the process." The Kirin Tor archmage said. "No offense to you, Harry, but I would rather not let a vial of my wife's blood out of my sight."

"My opinion of your intelligence would have dropped sharply if you did."

The three visitors left shortly after that and Garona was left skulking in a dark corner, watching Harry smile at nothing.

"So, did you enjoy the tour?" He said teasingly, looking right at her.

Of course he knew where she was. It was his tower and she had already learned the folly of trying to skulk around an archmage's domain.

"You didn't have to show them the body parts room." Garona said with certainty, stepping out of the shadows. "You led them there for my sake."

"Clever girl." Harry said with an approving grin. "I noticed you keeping an eye on everything, but you never made a move to snoop around my workshop. Do you want to see the rest of it?"

Of course she hadn't snooped, not when he would know for sure that she'd done it. Still, being invited to see everything was not what she was expecting.

"I thought mages were supposed to hoard their secrets jealously?"

"We've already established that I'm a very strange archmage. I'm trying to get you to relax and that means assuaging your suspicious nature. If you want a more selfish reason, then I'd rather not have an assassin as skilled as you drawing any unfortunate conclusions because you had incomplete information."

"Oh." For someone as steeped in shadowy dealings and intrigue as her, this directness was downright uncomfortable.

And speaking of uncomfortable, Harry put his hand around her shoulders and led her back towards the workshop. "Come on, I'll show you the rest of my projects and you can ask all the burning questions you have."

Garona resisted the urge to squirm under the contact, unsure of how she felt about it. Luna was already entirely too huggy for her tastes and Harry clearly had a penchant for seducing women. Still, the touch wasn't too invasive, so she didn't shrug his arm off.

XXXXX

Harry had wanted to take a look at the Exodar ever since it arrived and now he was finally getting the chance. It was a magic spaceship, what's not to like?

The draenei being tight-lipped about its construction, that's what. They had a strict 'look, but don't touch' policy. Sensible, but very inconvenient. Harry had pretty much forgotten what it was like to be completely denied something he wanted. Velen had been polite about his absolute refusal on the matter, but a refusal it was.

There was a temptation there to use less than ethical means to get around this problem. Pressure of one kind or another or simply sneaking around… but no, that would be dumb and short-sighted. He already had plenty on his plate and would be busy for a long while. Becoming the draenei's best friend and getting them to share willingly was the better choice.

"Alright, fair enough." He nodded, accepting Velen's refusal with good grace. "But can you answer me one possibly sensitive question before we move on?"

"It would depend on the question." The draenei prophet had already figured out that it was best to not agree to anything ahead of time with Harry.

"What did Sargeras offer you that it would be enough for Archimonde and Kil'jaeden to join up with him?"

Velen stiffened at the question and seemed to stare through him for a while. "Why do you ask?"

"I want to figure out what makes them tick." Harry explained. "If they were that stupid once, maybe they can be goaded into being that stupid again."

The ancient draenei hummed, eyes briefly flicking from him to Luna before he finally answered. "Knowledge, he offered knowledge. The eredar were a knowledge-seeking race, so when Sargeras offered to tell us what the one underlying flaw of the universe was, many cast aside wisdom in pursuit of the answer. Though I think Archimonde was more interested in power."

"… that's it?" Harry said in disbelief. "Two thirds of your race became demons for that?"

"It was certainly not our finest hour." Velen acknowledged with a deep sigh.

"And I'm not even sure what it says about Sargeras." Harry continued. "Because it really sounds to me like that titanic moron threw a tantrum and decided to burn down the universe because it wasn't perfect."

"That is... one way of looking at it." The leader of the draenei looked at him oddly.

"He should have taken up gardening like the other titans." Luna opined. "It's very soothing."

"Whatever Sargeras thinks that flaw is, he's wrong." Harry muttered to himself. "Stupidity is the real flaw of the universe, and he is its avatar."

"Be that as it may, I have some thinking to do." Velen interjected politely. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay on the Exodar."

"We will!" Luna assured and tugged on Harry's arm. "Come on, let's go."

"Later, Velen." Harry gave the most bearded of all draenei a wave and allowed himself to be tugged along by his wife.

Now that his requested detour to speak to the draenei prophet was done with, she was letting her enthusiasm show.

"This is the place!" Said woman hopped in place excitedly a couple of minutes later, pointing at a building with an anvil engraved into the wall.

"Calm down." Harry told her, amused. "You'll scare her off if you come on too strong."

Seeing Luna act like a horny teenager was hilarious. He personally also found the draenei to be extraordinarily beautiful, of course, but her fascination with them was on a whole other level.

"Right!" She acknowledge and took a deep breath to tamp down on her enthusiasm. "I'm good now."

"Then lead the way." Harry invited with a smirk, gesturing her forward.

Luna nodded and flounced in through the open doorway, cheerily waving her hand. "Hello again, Miall!"

"Luna, was it?" The draenei blacksmith asked rhetorically and then her glowing blue eyes flicked over to him. "And this must be your mate?"

Luna sure did know how to pick them, Harry acknowledged. Draenei females had wider hips than humans by default and this one was also quite stacked up top, all of which was very visible in her skimpy leathers. All of that contrasted beautifully with her strong features, confident posture and muscular upper body. And that was before factoring in the exotic draenei parts that further enhanced how striking she was.

"Indeed I am." He said, reaching out to clasp wrists with her in greeting. "Harry, archmage, blacksmith and many other things, at your service."

"Miall." The draenei introduced herself, gripping him firmly. "I saw some of your work. Most impressive."

"Thank you, and I'd love to see some of your work in turn." Harry looked around the shop, noting both the more standard blacksmithing paraphilia and the unique crystal that the draenei used for their weapons. "In fact, how would you like to participate in a little competition?"

"Oooh, that's a good idea!" Luna piped up, previously having just been watching with glee at how well this meeting was going so far.

"What competition?" Miall asked, looking between the two of them.

"I'm sure you've heard about the diplomatic summit in Theramore your leader attended recently." Harry stated more than asked. "Well, Magni Bronzebeard – that's the king of the Ironforge dwarves – and I got into a friendly argument about who has the better blacksmithing technique and we decided to settle it with a competition. Since your own style is also distinct, you'd make a good addition to the contest."

And it would get the draenei integrated into both Azeroth and the Alliance just that little bit faster, as well as building the relationship for Luna's own schemes.

"Most of my weapons don't work well if their wielder isn't a paladin or at least a moderately skilled sorcerer." Miall warned.

"That's fine." Harry assured. "We will be judging each other's work, along a neutral third party."

"And I could show you around!" Luna jumped in again. "I've been to Ironforge before and they have some really neat stuff."

Judging by the look on the draenei blacksmith's face, she had a pretty good idea as to what Luna was really angling for, but she nodded anyway. "It would be good to see more of our new home."

"Great!" Luna beamed. "We'll pick you up when it's time."

XXXXX

Miall could only shake her head in amusement once Harry and Luna left. What an odd pair. Still, they didn't mean any harm and that was the important part.

But there was one more surprise visit to her shop this day, although this time one more familiar.

"Prophet Velen, are you here because my recently departed visitors?" It was an obvious guess to make.

"I am." The ancient draenei nodded. "I was curious as to what they wanted with you."

"I was invited to join a blacksmithing competition between Harry and the dwarven king." Miall saw no reason to lie or prevaricate. Velen had led their people through many dangers.

"I did hear about that wager between them while I was in Theramore." Velen rumbled thoughtfully. "It should be fine, but I would advise caution around that man. He has the same ruthless thirst for knowledge and power that I saw in Archimonde and Kil'Jaeden."

Miall straightened in alarm. Those were not names spoken lightly among the draenei. "You think he may be an agent of the Burning Legion?"

"No." Velen huffed, seeming part amused and part annoyed. "If only because he considers it beneath him. And all of my divinations confirm that he will continue to do good for as long as his wife lives."

"Luna." Miall spoke the woman's name with some uncertainty, absently playing with the end of one of her tentacles. "She seems like a good person."

Her suspicion that the golden-haired woman was attempting to woo her was one thing that she was not going to share.

"So I hear from everyone I've spoken to. Even the Naaru say that she is a powerful force for the Light."

Miall thought she could hear a bit of a grumble under the prophet's words and could guess where it was coming from. Due to the low numbers of remaining draenei, nothing stayed secret for long. In this case, the tense conversation between Velen and Lady Tyrande Whisperwind when the draenei leader had suggested that Elune was a Naaru and offered to share his knowledge of communing with them to the night elves.

From what Miall had heard, the High Priestess had rebuked Velen quite firmly on the matter and 'requested' that he never again suggest that Elune was anything other than a goddess.

Either way, she was just a blacksmith and definitely had no interest in sticking her horns into it. Her preoccupation was that she had a priestess of said being trying to seduce her.

Well, it was still better than running from the Burning Legion.

XXXXX

"If the rest of the Kirin Tor saw this, they would surely suffer an attack of apoplexy." Rhonin sighed, looking at the rows of artificial wombs designed to 'birth' fully grown people.

"It's a curious quirk of mage organizations." Harry replied in a tone of agreement. "They tend to be either almost comically evil or uptight bastards with no tolerance for the more icky-squicky parts of magic. I personally blame it on the mediocrity of its average members. In the case of the latter, it forces the leaders to make a lot of pedantic rules to keep the idiots in line. And in the case of the former, you've got a bunch of ambitious mediocre idiots thinking that the best way to impress their leaders is to be as evil as possible."

"Huh, I never thought of it that way." Rhonin pulled on his goatee as he considered the words. There was definitely more than one apprentice in the Kirin Tor that was too curious for his or her own good.

"How much longer?" Vereesa asked impatiently. She had not said a word since they entered the room, only staring fixedly at the 'womb' that held her sister.

"You can't rush this kind of thing." Harry chided. "Do you take a loaf of bread out of the oven before it's properly baked just because you're hungry?"

Had he just compared Sylvanas Windrunner and her Dark Rangers (although they would probably stop calling themselves 'dark' now that they were alive again) to loaves of bread? Rhonin supposed that the baking metaphor somewhat worked, even if it was in poor taste.

Vereesa took a deep breath went back to staring at the fleshy pods.

Rhonin could sympathize with his wife's uncharacteristic impatience, so he reached down to give her hand a squeeze. She looked back at him with a small, grateful smile.

A gurgle sounded through the room, followed by the slimy sound of moist flesh sliding over moist flesh. The foremost pod began to unfurl like a flower. A distinctly disgusting flower that bore an uncomfortable resemblance to a woman's private parts, only writ large.

"Ah, here we go. Birthing time." Harry announced. "I hope you've got strong stomachs, because this is going to be a bit gross."

Rhonin liked to think that he did, indeed, have a strong stomach, but it was usually tested by the horrors seen in battle. Watching a giant slimy vagina contract and slowly push out an even slimier elf female required a somewhat different fortitude.

Vereesa cared nothing for how disgusting the spectacle was and rushed forward to hold her sister as she slowly slid out of the fleshy cocoon. She did, however, recoil a bit when the first thing the 'newborn' Sylvanas did was to vomit a torrent of slime over her boots.

"What is this?" She demanded fearfully.

"Oxygen-rich amniotic fluid, the same thing infants use to breathe in the womb." Harry explained placidly, looking over as the other pods began ejecting their contents. "You didn't think there was air in there, did you?"

Vereesa nodded curtly and went back to fussing over her sister.

Eventually, Sylvanas' lungs and stomach were empty and she struggled up to her feet. Somehow she managed to glare at Harry neutrally. Rhonin was impressed – he hadn't known it was possible to make a glare non-hostile.

"That was the second most unpleasant experience of my life." The former Banshee Queen stated hoarsely.

"Sounds about right." Harry nodded. "Showers are behind that door in the back. Get washed up and then I'll start handing out hair growth potions. Baldness doesn't suit you."

Rhonin wasn't going to say anything, but it was true. They all looked kind of ridiculous with no hair.

The mass of slimy elven females shuffled off towards the indicated door, a little unsteady on their feet but clear eagerness in their movements.

"Tell me, Rhonin…" Harry began once they were all gone, even Vereesa having gone with them. "… do you think Sylvanas would have accepted an invitation to bathe with me?"

The red-haired archmage had to actually consider this one. "She may have felt obligated to, but would most certainly resent it."

And so would Vereesa. His wife was feeling very protective of her sister right now.

"Ah well, can't get them all I guess." Harry shrugged.

Rhonin decided to change the subject. "The preparations for the ritual at Karazhan are almost complete. The Kirin Tor will be ready by the end of the week."

"Took you long enough." Harry commented. "You'd think a great gaping gash to the Twisting Nether would provoke a more energetic response."

A deep, tired sigh left his lips. "Politics."

As soon as the rest of the Council of Six heard that the threat was stable and contained for the moment, they began playing games for position. It wasn't the first time that Rhonin had thought that spending too much time locked away in their towers had damaged his peers' ability to relate to anything aside from their own interests.

"Say no more." Harry snorted.

XXXXX

It was time to seal the Twisting Nether's bunghole, and to that purpose a force of nearly two hundred priests and mages were gathered in Karazhan.

Azeroth had been quite insistent on asking when he was going to tie up this particular loose end. The slumbering titan was an almost constant presence in his head these days. Apparently, he was a good distraction from the nightmares the Old Gods plagued her with.

Harry didn't really mind having her effectively hiding in his soul. Azeroth was adorable in ways that only juvenile beings could be and the constant 'sound' of the planet wasn't particularly distracting most of the time. Plus, he suspected that doing so was helping to speed up her maturation even if the two of them were very different beings at the base of it.

"Harry, are you ready?" Rhonin asked once he made it to the summit of Karazhan… which was actually a phase-shifted dimensional pocket that existed in all parts of the tower simultaneously. It just so happened that the only access point to it was at the top of the tower.

"I'm ready. Are you ready?" Harry returned, looking over at the collection of priests and mages gathered together around the ritual circle.

"As we can be." The leader of the Kirin Tor nodded. "We will keep the breach sealed."

"And we'll keep the ritual contained!" Luna added, bouncing up to them. "What's that you got there?"

The structure of the operation today was simple, if a lot more freeform than Harry preferred his rituals to be. The mages would focus on blocking outside interference while Luna and the priests prevented an explosive release of magical energy from wrecking everything.

"This is the lodestone of the ritual." Harry said, carefully unwrapping the object in his hands. "Ulthalesh, the Deadwind Harvester."

Both Rhonin and Luna recoiled away from the scythe, which was fair. It was a truly foul artifact.

"I found this thing when I was sweeping the catacombs under Karazhan, along with several other nasty items." Harry explained, carefully placing the scythe in the center of the ritual circle without touching it. "It was used to make Deadwind Pass what it is today, so it is only fitting that it be destroyed to restore it."

"I will certainly not object to such a vile thing being destroyed." Rhonin nodded approvingly.

"Huh, I would have thought you would want to hoard it." Luna cocked her head. "That's what you usually do with interesting items."

"Not this one." Harry shook his head. "Azeroth wants it gone."

"Aww, she totally has you wrapped around her little finger." Luna giggled.

"She is literally the planet, there's nothing little about her."

But Luna merely smiled at his protests, bouncing on her toes in a manner that was as close to smug as she ever got.

"Let's just do this." Harry rolled his eyes and brought Atiesh out of his hammerspace.

They agreed and took positions, Rhonin with the mages and Luna with the priests. The barriers went up and Harry positioned the blade of Atiesh over the Deadwind Harvester.

"Are you ready, Azzie?" He murmured quietly.

The titan responded by sending him an image of a river breaking a dam and flooding a dry region. She was ready and eager.

"Alright, here goes." Harry acknowledge and focused his divine authority of liberation into a single stab of his bladestaff, and then brought it down.

Ulthalesh had been used to create the twisted magical nexus that dominated the Deadwind Pass, consuming the souls of countless trolls to scar Azeroth herself in such a manner. This had forever linked it to this place, and now the ritual was used to backtrack that connection.

But it would not be so easily destroyed. The scythe had been made by Sargeras himself and was thus an object of incredible potency and durability.

Harry grit his teeth and pushed down harder, straining his all his physical and spiritual strength to pierce through the concept that allowed the foul artifact to exist. Even with his divine domain giving him an advantage and the trapped souls struggling to get free from within it, the Dark Titan's work was not easily overcome.

Fortunately, he wasn't acting alone. Azeroth wanted this as well and her potential strength outstripped even Sargeras once she was fully mature. Moreover, the planet they were on was her cradle and her will could not be denied once given a conduit.

The scythe cracked and then broke and Harry stumbled forward as the resistance abruptly vanished, but that was barely worth noticing compared to the torrent of trapped souls that were released. Trolls, humans, elves and even demons. The strongest had the distinct feel of a Dreadlord and it actually sent a feeling of thanks his way before rushing off into the Twisted Nether.

Harry had a feeling that he had just let loose a thorn in Sargeras' side.

In the wake of the souls came a flood of magical energy as the scar on Azeroth was torn open. He felt her cry out in pain, but was a bit preoccupied by the overwhelming amount of raw power flowing from the reopened wound and into the Heart of Azeroth affixed to Atiesh.

The wound was fortunately relatively minor and Azeroth was able to use the released energy flowing into the artifact embedded in his staff to heal it.

Once it was over, Harry fell over as if he'd been drinking nothing but fortified alcohol for three days straight. His mind was swimming he felt like he'd taken a flashbang right to the soul. No wonder the night elves got addicted to magic just living around a pool of Azeroth's blood. He'd just gotten the equivalent of a small spray of it on him – with most being absorbed by the Heart of Azeroth – and he was completely out of it.

"Harry?" Luna's concerned voice came from above him. "Are you okay?"

He squinted his eyes at her forced his uncooperative brain to focus past the dose of cosmic LSD he'd just taken.

"That sucked." He lied. It had, in fact, been amazing and he immediately wanted more. That was reason enough in and of itself to never do it again if it could be helped. Harry had some experience with addictive magics and knew that it never ended well if you gave in to the cravings.

"Well it worked." Luna responded optimistically. "The land already feels healthier!"

Harry opened his mouth to reply when a shudder ran through the floor. It felt like all of Karazhan was shaking.

The three leaders of this ritual exchanged looks of realization. "The tower!"

Karazhan had been built on the magical nexus they had just unwound and much of the shenanigans keeping it up were no longer functional. It was going to come down.

This wasn't a complete surprise, fortunately, and emergency teleports had been arranged. Harry had just forgotten about it in his magic high, and Luna had forgotten about it in her concern for him.

XXXXX

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite midget." Harry grinned, pleasantly surprised by who he saw in Ironforge.

"Yer lucky to be a guest of the king, manling, or I'd scorch ye for that." Thane Korth'azz gave a proper dwarven grumble in response. "And I see ye brought all yer women… and some new ones."

"Indeed I did." Harry nodded. "You've already met Luna, Jessir and Arko. Colette should also be familiar even if she's using a new body."

"I thought better of ye than to take up with this reprobate, lass." The fiery dwarf scolded good-naturedly.

"As I told Jaina Proudmoore, I got used to having a big stallion between my legs." Colette responded with a dirty grin.

"Hah!" Korth'azz barked in amusement. "Good on ye, then. Let me know if he doesn't treat ye well, though, it'll give me an excuse to pummel him."

What an incredibly dad thing to say, Harry thought with amusement. "Sadly, Jaina said she didn't have time to come, but I think she was lying and just had no interest in watching us hammer metal for a few days. But we did bring another person you might know, Sally Whitemane."

"Tainted filth. If you evena shadow of the paladin you used to be, then you would immolate yourself in cleansing fire to purge the stench of undeath from the world." The former High Inquisitor of the Scarlet Crusade spat.

"I'm sorry about her, she's still pretty angry at… everything." Luna apologized for the outburst and hushed the woman up.

"Aye." Korth'azz agreed, more amused than upset.

"And last but certainly not least, our third competitor, Miall of the Exodar."

"Greetings." The draenei gave a small wave. "I take it that you are the one we are making a weapon for?"

"He is." Magni Bronzebeard interjected, having seen no need to intrude on the small reunion. "Thane Korth'azz lost his favored weapon when he was raised into undeath, so I thought we could kill two troggs with one stone. And allow me to welcome you as the first draenei to visit Ironforge."

"I thank you for your hospitality, King Magni." Miall said with a small smile.

Magni made a pleased rumble in his throat and beckoned them forward. "Come, I will show you to your quarters. Rhonin should arrive soon and then we can get to the forging."

It escaped nobody that the king sounded excited for it in ways that he probably was not for the politics of his lofty station. Just the fact that he was personally showing them around instead of sending someone of lower rank to do it said a lot by itself.

XXXXX

The blacksmithing competition was to take place over the course of three days, with each contestant having a day to complete their work. They would each have access to high quality metals and magical reagents, but nothing that stood out as being unique.

One would think that a king like Magni couldn't just take three days off like this and normally that would be true, but dwarves loved a good bit of craftmanship. By turning the competition into a public attraction, he not only got a break from politics, but he also benefitted from it.

As the host, Magni went first. He stepped up to the Great Anvil that sat at the heart of Ironforge and used it as a sort of podium to address the city. Or part of the city anyway, it's not like every single dwarf could be crammed into the Great Forge.

"The pride of the dwarves has been challenged." The king began. "Not long ago during the summit at Theramore, Archmage Harry claimed that his skill at the anvil could outdo mine."

The observing dwarves roared, not necessarily in outrage, but just to make noise and demonstrate that they had strong feelings about that one.

"Such a claim could not go unchallenged, and we are here today to see if he can back up his boasts!"

The dwarves roared again.

"Miall of the Exodar has also accepted an invitation to participate, as the crafts of the draenei are not known to us." Magni nodded towards the draenei in question and she gave a little wave of greeting. "We will be forging a mace for Thane Korth'azz, paladin of the Silver Hand. He and Archmage Rhonin will act as judges. May the best smith win, and their work venerate Khaz'goroth, Shaper and Forger of Worlds!"

Oh? So the dwarves did remember something about their titan father. Most races didn't.

"He's a good speaker." Arko commented quietly while the dwarven king began preparations for his project.

"It does help to know your audience and dwarves have admirably simple tastes." Harry responded with a grin. "A bit inflexible at times perhaps, but there's something to be said for the overall stability of their society."

"You will never have a more stalwart friend or ally than a dwarf." Colette agreed. "Nor a less forgiving enemy."

"I like their big, bushy beards!" Luna added her own contribution. "Not many humans can grow them that thick. Ava's boys could, but they were demi-giants."

"I remember how you made them take care of their beards." Harry chuckled in reminiscence. "They were so annoyed by it… until they realized how much the girls liked them."

"Are you talking about your sons from the other world?" Jessir asked and smiled softly when he nodded. "I would have liked to meet them."

"I'd be happy to tell you about them." Luna offered eagerly.

"Sure, but can we do it while we take a walk around the city?" Arko asked, theatrically wiping her forehead. "It's a bit hot here."

Yeah, that tended to happen when there were several foundries pouring molten slag into channels around the Great Anvil.

"You go on ahead. I want to stay and watch Magni work." Harry said.

"I will stay as well." Miall added.

"Sally?" Luna prompted. "Where do you want to go?"

"Back to the Scarlet Crusade." The white-haired woman snapped.

"That's not really an option, but there's a bakery nearby that makes fantastic meat buns."

XXXXX

The second day was Harry's turn at the Great Anvil, which also doubled as a forge through some clever mystical shenanigans that the dwarves had come up with. He might have to copy the design in the future.

But what he couldn't copy was the sense of weight to the Great Anvil. This was an artefact thousands of years old, which had seen countless smiths create countless items on it. Moreover, it had also been built to venerate the closest thing to a god the dwarves had, so it was also a religious altar.

It was, without a doubt, the single most potent workspace for a blacksmith he had ever seen. Harry had done his best to make sure his anvils and forges were imbued with the essence of creation, but the thousands of years of history that the Great Anvil had behind it was something that the shortcuts of magic could not bestow.

He would definitely have to ask Magni if he could borrow it when making stuff in the future, even if the lack of privacy could be a bit problematic. After all, the act of spellforging would connect his body and soul to the anvil, the forge, the fire, the hammer and thing he was making. Mistakes or disruptions could be… fatal.

Thankfully, the dwarves took their craftmanship very seriously and it was unlikely that any of them would be so crass as to interrupt him while he was working, especially after they were warned not to. Luna was nearby just in case regardless.

Harry took a deep breath and reached out for the Great Anvil with his soul. Its weighty history pressed hard against him, but was not unwelcoming. He almost expected to feel an echo of Khaz'goroth's power in it, but of course that didn't happen. The titan had never touched this particular object.

That titan hadn't at any rate. Azeroth, a fragment of her consciousness always squatting in his soul, did reach out to see what he was connecting to.

Ah, the dwarves might find their works to be slightly more potent from now on thanks to that. The titans being what they are, even the faintest touch of theirs left behind powerful traces. Azeroth was still sleeping, the majority of her essence and consciousness locked deep within the core of the planet, but a part of her was always with him now.

No need to worry Magni with that little detail, though. He might call it unfair.

Harry breathed, and the flames of the forge breathed with him. He was ready. Time to get working.

XXXXX

"Aye, she's a beauty." Than Korth'azz said admiringly, turning the freshly made warhammer over in his hand.

Combining a haft of Khaz Modan oak with an adamantine head that gleamed as if it was reflecting firelight, a consequence of the enchantment on it. Magni had not had time to pretty it up much, but dwarves found more beauty in functionality than in frills anyway.

"I certainly can't fault your skill at the forge, but the enchanting work is subpar and tacked on clumsily." Harry teased with a smirk.

Apparently – and unsurprisingly – it was tradition for the results of these sorts of competitions to be decided at the tavern. Harry suspected that it was an excuse to get drunk. Either way, they were now all crammed into Ironforge's largest and most popular drinking hole, with all the other tables stuffed full of curious dwarves.

"Oh aye?" Magni harrumphed. "Let's see yours, then. With how you're talking it up, it had better be good."

"Behold." Harry proclaimed and produced his own work.

It was a flanged mace, metal from haft to head, made of an alloy of arcanite and adamantine with a coating of elementium on the flanges. This was necessary, because the flanges themselves were a series of sharp blades that pointed upwards like the points of a crown. Couldn't have them getting dull, after all. Within the depths of the head gleamed a core of fire that became hypnotizing if one gazed into it for too long.

Yes, he had used the design of Sauron's mace again, because that thing was awesome! It was smashy, it was stabby and in a pinch it could even be slashy. Furthermore, by appearance it was somewhere between a mace and a lord's scepter, which he thought was appropriate in this situation.

"Did you… open up a direct connection to the Elemental Plane of Fire inside that mace head?!" Rhonin squawked in shock at what his senses were telling him. "Are you insane?!"

"Just a little one." Harry replied, holding his thumb and index finger a few milimeters apart. "I figured Thane would appreciate a boost to his pyromaniac tendencies."

"Lad, that was stupid." Magni said gravely, a deep frown on his face. He looked at the mace as if it was a pit viper. "We've seen what meddling with the elemental planes gets you with the Dark Iron dwarves."

Right, the Dark Irons had gotten themselves enslaved to Ragnaros the Firelord.

"It does seem a little… reckless." Miall contributed.

"There's no need to worry." Harry waved them off. "It's not a true portal and nothing can come through it – you need a fixed point on Azeroth for that. That little ember there is more like a tether to the Firelands that constantly draws elemental energy from it. Just don't hit any fire elementals with it – they'll just get stronger. And don't touch any part of the mace except the handle either – I made a sheath to go along with it so you don't accidentally burn yourself or start a forest fire. On the bright side, if you ever need to heat up a bath, just dip the mace inside for a minute or two and you'll be set."

"But how can you be sure it stays stable?" Miall pressed. "I can tell that the enchantment was weaved directly into the metal during the forging process – masterful work by the way – but that means that if the mace itself is destroyed or too damaged, the consequences could be quite explosive."

"Well, yes, but if something manages to destroy it after how durable I've made it then we'll have much bigger problems." Harry shrugged and offered it to Than Korth'azz. "Here, give it a whirl."

Korth'azz gingerly took the offered mace, not really able to conceal the interested gleam in his eyes.

"Good balance and heft." He said, moving it around a bit. "And I ken definitely feel it enhancing my ability to call up fire."

Magni could clearly see that his own creation was coming up second best so far and it made him grumpy. He also still wasn't sanguine about Harry's mace having a direction connection to the Elemental Plane of Fire, no matter the reassurances.

"Take a look at the third one before you get too attached to that disaster waiting to happen, Thane." He grumbled.

The pyro paladin reluctantly stopped playing around with his new toy. "Aye."

Miall produced her creation. It had a metal haft that clutched a head of purple crystal, a type of weapon unique to the draenei.

"I doubt it can match the power output of Harry's creation, but we draenei have been using such weapons for millennia." Miall explained. "The crystal is far more durable than it looks and contains a malleable core of arcane power that adapts to the magic of its wielder. The process takes some time, but it is safe and reliable."

"Quite fascinating." Rhonin said, handling the crystal mace. "I've never seen arcane energy being bound into physical form like this."

"I'd love to learn it." Harry added. "And I'll happily teach you my method of spellforging in return."

"That is an acceptable deal." Miall nodded. "Despite your reckless choice of enchantment for this competition, your skill with both magic and anvil is undeniable."

"It's a good weapon." Korth'azz said, testing out the crystal mace. "It fits comfortably in my hand and the head isn't as awkward as it looks."

"But you like mine better, don't you?" Harry grinned, seeing the writing on the wall.

"Aye." Korth'azz admitted.

"And I favor Miall's work for its refinement and reliability." Rhonin said, shooting Magni an apologetic look. "No offense to you, Your Highness – your craftmanship truly is exceptional – but Harry spoke truly when he said that the enchantment is a little subpar."

"Then it is a tie." The draenei blacksmith observed. "How do we break it?"

"How else? We drink!" Magni was quick to get over his disappointment at losing. "I pay, you chug. First to pass out loses."

Ah, so that's why they were doing this in a tavern.

XXXXX

Jessir and Arko had gotten a bit claustrophobic and Sally had gotten fussy, so they'd all returned to the tower before the first day of their stay in Ironforge was up. Luna and Colette had elected to stick around, but kept away from 'the boys'.

Luna was always trying to get Harry to make more male friends and this was the first time he was doing it without prodding. It was not to be meddled with, even if it did limit the time she had available to seduce Miall.

It wouldn't matter if Harry did it and she could wiggle herself in later anyway.

These were all reasons why she was very happy to see Rhonin staggering out of the tavern with Harry and Miall using him for support, both of them very obviously drunk – which was quite an awkward arrangement given that they were both much taller than him.

Luna and Collete hurried forward to relieve him of his burdens, with Luna deliberately taking the nearly insensate draenei. She was very happy about the way Miall draped herself over her.

"I thought you were having a blacksmithing contest, not a drinking one." Colette commented sardonically.

"Tiebreaker." Harry slurred. "I won."

Of course he did. While they didn't know how efficient the draenei liver (or its equivalent organ) was, Harry's was a finely-tuned poison-processing machine. Just the fact that he was even this tipsy said some impressive things about draenei physiology. Or about Miall's alcohol tolerance.

"Congratulations." Colette said with dry sarcasm. "If you puke on me, I will make you regret it."

"Heh, you gun' tie me to the bed?" He chuckled and stretched out to nibble on her ear.

Harry was a randy drunk.

"Good luck with them." Rhonin broke in. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a drunk king to wrangle."

"Of course. Thank you for looking after Harry and Miall!" Luna said to him.

"Hearthstone." Said draenei mumbled into Luna's ear, fumbling towards the pouch at her waist. "M'pocket."

Haha, no. As if Luna was going to pass up this chance to get Miall into bed with her.

"Shh, just let me take care of you." She shushed the blacksmith. "It's not safe to teleport while drunk."

Too sloshed to realize that this bit of wisdom only applied to manual teleportation, Miall mumbled an assent.

"Alright, hang on tight." Luna said and hugged the draenei close to her body. Unnecessarily close one might say.

The Mass Teleport took them directly to the master bedroom. Due to time zone differences, it was the middle of the day in Ashenvale where it had been late into the evening in Ironforge. This, unfortunately meant that Jessir and Arko had been sound asleep.

"What happened to them?" Arko asked incredulously after she realized that they weren't under attack.

"Dwarven drinking contest to settle a tiebreaker." Luna explained. "Help us undress them, will you?"

The two naked night elves hopped out of bed to do just that.

Harry cooperated just fine, even if his hands wandered and he kept groping both Jessir and Colette at every opportunity. Miall, on the other hand…

"Know what you're doing…" The draenei mumbled, clumsily trying to slap away the hands divesting her of clothing. "Taking 'dvantage of me…"

"I would never." Luna assured, tugging down her pants.

"Why not put her into one of the guest rooms, then." Jessir pointed out with a smirk.

"She's my responsibility now, I have to keep a close eye on her."

Arko snorted, but didn't stop undressing the horned and tailed female. Despite Luna's transparently thin excuses, both of them were sure that she wouldn't actually do anything too unethical.

Once she was naked, they maneuvered Miall onto the bed. The draenei fell into the mattress with an oof that simply oozed satisfaction and immediately began groping for the covers, apparently dismissing all previous concerns from memory.

"Just one second, give me your feet." Luna urged softly, grabbing one of the hoofed appendages. A pair of fluffy pink socks appeared in her hands, knitted specifically to fit over hooves.

Miall discontently and half-heartedly tried to kick her legs away, but her inebriated state defeated her. After a few seconds of resistance she gave up and let Luna put the socks on her.

"Of course you planned ahead for this." Arko rolled her eyes, crawling back into bed.

She was also eyeballing a clearly low-energy Harry speculatively as Colette cast a spell that caused spectral chains to bind his wrists to the headboard.

But Luna was paying only peripheral attention to what kind of hanky panky was going on there. Most of her focus was on how unbearably sexy Miall looked in their bed with her metallic grey-black hair splayed across a pillow and her horns and her tail and her adorable head tentacles and the little hoof sockies.

It was a good thing that Luna had principles or she would absolutely be taking advantage of this situation. More advantage that was.

But because she did have principles, she contented herself with just slithering into bed next to her and maneuvering her into a hug that had Miall's face buried in her chest. That way she could caress her horns and her tentacles, as well as reach down to fondle her tail. The digitigrade legs took some figuring out to position comfortably, but the hoof sockies were loaded with so many cushioning charms that the discomfort was minimal.

Miall mumbled something that might have been a protest, but she was already half asleep. Luna silenced further dissent by guiding the draenei girl's lips to her nipple and flicking the mental switch that turned on lactation.

Miall was too out of it to realize what was going on, but the few drips of delicious vanilla and chocolate flavored milk hitting her tongue had her instinctively sucking on the nipple even as she drifted deeper into slumber.

Luna cooed happily, running her fingers through her bedmate's head tentacles and over her horns, her other hand stroking her tail. And to top it all off, she also got a show in the form of the other three girls taking advantage of a mildly drunk Harry. Fortunately, they were considerate enough to keep the noise down so that Miall didn't wake up.

Today was a good day.

XXXXX

It was the involuntary shiver that woke Miall up, caused by fingers gently ghosting long the curve of her spine and down her tail, then moving back up until they reached the back of her head from where her tentacles grew.

Glowing blue eyes scrunched in confusion at the unfamiliar surroundings. The last thing she remembered clearly was the drinking contest, then everything got progressively more fuzzy. At least she wasn't hung over.

Unfortunately, the lack of hangover probably had to do with a certain priestess if the disjointed memories in her head were any clue. She wasn't sore, so she didn't think anything too bad had happened, but she was still naked in a bed not her own.

Rolling over, she squinted at the smiling blonde there.

"Good morning." Luna said with such sincerity that Miall found it difficult to be upset. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes." She would concede that much. The bed was extraordinarily comfortable. "But why am I here? I had a hearthstone with me."

Which she was pretty sure she had mentioned.

"You got drunk around us, which means that you trusted us to take care of you." Luna explained her logic. "I wanted to take care of you, so here we are."

And now Miall could either agree that she had trusted them enough to drink in excess around them, or admit that she was stupid enough to drink in excess around people she didn't trust. How unexpectedly manipulative. Worst of all, she didn't think Luna was doing it on purpose.

"Exactly how much did you take care of me?" The draenei blacksmith asked. She might not be feeling sore, but there was quite a lot that could have been done to her that wouldn't have left such traces.

"I undressed you, put sockies on your hooves and cuddled you while you slept." Luna explained. "Oh, and I purged the alcohol from your body."

"Sockies?" Miall repeated in confusion and looked down at her feet. They were, indeed, covered in fluffy pink fabric.

"You hooves are beautiful, but they're hard and pointy and not comfortable to cuddle." Luna explained.

"You think our hooves are beautiful?" The draenei asked, amused. "I would have thought that a species with soft feet like yours would find them strange."

"Oh no, I love them." Luna assured earnestly, scooting closer on the bed in her eagerness. "I would love to clean and trim them for you and whatever else you do to care for them. And your horns, too! Do you ever polish them?"

"Some of the more vain among my people do, but I have never bothered." Miall answered, guessing what Luna's next words would be.

Sure enough… "Can I do it for you?! They'll be the prettiest, healthiest horns ever, I promise."

Miall couldn't stop an amused smile from tugging at her lips. Now that she knew she hadn't been taken advantage of while she was drunk. It was hard to be upset in the face of this irrepressible priestess. "I will consider it."

"Yay!" Luna cheered and scooted forward to hug her. "Let's go eat. You must be hungry by now."

A growl from her stomach confirmed this assumption. It was followed by an answering growl from Luna, meaning that the priestess had probably put off eating in order to wait for her to wake up.

XXXXX

"Why is there an orc here?"

Miall hadn't intended to be rude to her hosts, but she hadn't been expecting an orc either. Learning that they were sharing a planet with the violent species again had not been received fondly by the draenei.

At least she was brown instead of green, meaning that she had not partaken in demon corruption.

"Half-orc." Harry corrected. "Miall, this is Garona Halforcen. Garona, our guest here is Miall, the Exodar's blacksmith."

"Pleased to meet you." Garona said with a nod.

"Likewise." Miall responded automatically, but her mind was stuck on something else. All the orcs on Azeroth had the demon-tainted green skin, but Garona had the natural brown tone, which meant that she couldn't be half-human. Even more tellingly, her eyes were a glowing purple that were quite distinctively draenei. "Are you… half-draenei?"

"I am, on my mother's side." Garona answered stoically.

It didn't take much imagination to figure out how that had come out. There had long been rumors of the monstrous treatment the orcs subjected their prisoners to, but this was the first time she met living proof of it. The thought that it might have been consensual never entered her mind. No draenei would lower herself to willingly laying with an orc of all things.

"Do you know her name?" She asked carefully.

"I never learned it." Garona admitted. "All I know is that she had been taken prisoner by the Bladewind Clan, which was destroyed by draenei retaliation when I was still very young."

Miall blinked slowly, remembering something. With how few draenei there were left alive and how long they lived, everyone knew everyone, and the mention of the Bladewind Clan sparked a memory. She peered more closely at the half-orc's face, looking for a family resemblance. It was difficult to compare features with the brutish features of the orcs muddling it up, but she thought there might be something.

"You may still have family among the draenei." She finally said. "One of our strongest Vindicators, Maraad, left the Exodar for some purpose he would not disclose soon after our arrival on Azeroth. I know that his sister had been taken captive by orcs. If he has learned of you, then he may be searching for you."

"I can cast a Kinfinder for you, if you want." Harry offered. "The spell is normally meant for immediate relations, but I could tweak it to be a bit broader."

"I will consider it." Garona managed to say, clearly uncomfortable.

"I'm sure he won't hold your mixed heritage against you." Luna consoled, patting the half-orc on the hand.

Miall hoped so, it wasn't Garona's fault after all. She wished she could be certain, but Maraad had a great hatred for orcs in him. Given the opportunity, he would kill them to the last with his own hands. The destruction of the Bladewind Clan had almost certainly been his doing, in the wake of finding his sister's body.

Miall didn't think that Maraad was so far gone that he would be searching for Garona to kill her in some misguided belief that doing so would purge the stain from his sister's memory, but she didn't know him well. The Vindicator had become reclusive and brooding in recent decades.

"That is not what I am concerned about." Garona insisted. "This is simply not something we have time to get distracted by if we are to enter the Emerald Dream soon."

Miall thought that sounded like an excuse…

And regardless of Garona's wishes, she would see if she could get into contact with Maraad. He deserved to know about his niece.

XXXXX

Jaina had been called to house sit for the… Battle Harem… again. It was inconvenient, but a life debt was a life debt and she could bring her paperwork with her. Teleportation magic made the arrangement less problematic than it otherwise would have been.

She could have done without Aegwynn's smirks, though.

"How long will you be gone?" She asked as the… Battle Harem… prepared to leave.

"We have no idea." Harry admitted. "It's unlikely that we'll be able to permanently fix the trouble in the Emerald Dream for as long as Yogg-Saron has a physical connection to one of the World Trees. Our hope is to contain the spread of corruption until it becomes feasible to launch an invasion into Northrend and kill its avatar."

"We could be there for a few days or a few weeks." Luna added. "But we'll make sure to take breaks if it starts dragging on. According to the green dragons, the situation isn't critical yet."

Jaina had heard that Luna had been going around Azeroth and purifying the adult green dragons guarding the gateways to the Emerald Dream. Apparently that was true.

"Either way it will be a great privilege to see it." Jessir said with a big smile. "The Green Dragonflight normally does not allow anyone but druids to enter the Emerald Dream."

"Will we have to be on our best behavior while there, or can we be naughty?" Colette asked sultrily.

Jaina still found it hard to believe that the former High Priestess of the Silver Hand had become such a pervert.

"Why don't you ask the Greens?" Arko suggested sarcastically.

"Ooh, that's a great idea!" Luna enthused. "Maybe we can even get Merithra to join in."

"Please don't proposition the green dragons."

Jaina knew that she had made a mistake as soon as the words left her mouth.

"Why?" Harry teased. "Jealous?"

"No." The denial was as quick as it was useless.

"Awww, don't worry, Jaina. You'll always have a special place with us." Luna cooed and swept her into a hug. Fortunately, they weren't wearing their armor since they didn't expect to walk into a battle immediately.

"Yes, Jaina, there's no need to be concerned." Colette added wickedly and joined the hug.

Jaina wanted to protest, but her face was being smothered in Luna's breasts.

"Group hug!" Harry declared, much to her horror, and dragged Jessir and Arko along with him.

Jaina was drowning in female flesh, with one hard wall of masculine muscle at her back. She just knew that this was another one of Harry's plans to get her used to his advances.

"I left you a little present in my study." He murmured into her ear.

Then the group hug broke up and Jaina gasped for air, quickly stepping away to prevent any repeats.

"Don't…!" She began to say, but then caught sight of Luna's eyes shimmering with worry and all irritation left her. Damn it all, it just wasn't fair that a seven foot woman could pull off a look mixing motherly concern with the sad pout of a gnomish child.

"Don't worry about me, just get going." She ground out, glowering at Harry. She just knew that he was using Luna as a shield, the bastard. Even Garona was laughing at her. The half-orc's face might be placid, but being around Aegwynn taught you how to recognize the amusement in someone's eyes.

"Alright." Luna agreed, smiling in that way she had that made you feel bad for even thinking of being upset at her. "Take care!"

"And don't forget to pick up my present." Harry reminded her. "Alright, Battle Harem, plus Garona, let's move out!"

"Bye Jaina!"

"Good luck." She wished them politely and slumped in relief as they teleported out. What an exhausting bunch of people.

XXXXX

OMAKE – Some parallel universes have tiny variances, others have great honking big ones…

Luna had a big smile on her face Miall's top came off, revealing her lovely violet breasts. Halfway done! Now for her pants…

The leather shorts proved a bit more problematic as the tipsy horned girl stumbled about. Luna had to bend down awkwardly to brace her while she tugged the leather shorts down. Miall had quite a pair of hips on her, so that was no simple task.

But finally the shorts came down. Luna was already thinking of how she would be able to fondle those beautiful horns while cuddling this paragon of sexiness.

Which was why she was caught completely off guard when a massive purple horse cock sprang from its confinement and slapped her in the face. Luna could only blink down at it in confusion, some part of her mind automatically noting that Miall's pants must have been enchanted to be able to hold that monster and the huge balls under it without a ridiculous bulge announcing to all and sundry what she was packing.

The fleshy smack had gotten the attention of Harry and the other three girls and they all stared at it silently. Miall hung on to Luna and tried not to fall over, the massive erection swinging back and forth like a rudder at sea.

"This is fine." Arko decided after several seconds.

"It is getting a bit hard for Harry to keep up with all of our needs." Colette agreed with a lascivious grin, following the sway of Miall's great mast with her eyes. "Another sword to fill all the extra sheaths we have wouldn't go amiss."

Jessir just collapsed into helpless giggles.

Harry, being quite a bit sloshed himself, took the longest to recover from the surprise. When he did, the first thing he did was groan and slap a hand over his face.

"Goddamnit, we're in the futa draenei universe!"

Luna looked between him and her prospective new lover and put a mulish expression on her face.

"We're keeping her."

"Luna…" Harry tried.

"No." She wasn't having it. "She's not a guy and you didn't mind when Nymphadora grew a penis. We're keeping her."

"Let's put it to a vote." Arko said sweetly. "That's what we did when picking a name for ourselves."

"Yes, Harry." Jessir added, just as sweetly. "You wouldn't want to go back on your word, would you?"

"This is a completely different situation." Harry complained. Whether he was referring to Nymphadora's genital shenanigans or the voting system that was now being turned against him was anyone's guess.

Colette responded by pushing him down onto the bed and conjuring shadowy chains to bind him, straddling him immediately after.

"Don't worry, Harry." The former death knight purred as she impaled herself on him. "Your cock is still my favorite… even if that is one truly incredible specimen."

Luna nodded to herself, considering the matter settled. She went back to eagerly maneuvering Miall onto the bed. They couldn't do anything with her giant futa cock right now anyway, but she was happy that it was equine.

It would really ruin the whole aesthetic the draenei had going for them if it was anything else.