Brawny orc guards, their massive chests bulging with muscle, armed with heavy axes and garbed in vicious looking leather, glared a challenge at all who passed through the entrances to the small outpost at the cross roads of the Barrens savanna. Yet for all their careful watching, they did not see her as she crept past them. Like the wind, the intruder blew through the little town, carefully noting the positioning of buildings, the spots where the guards congregated, the location of their wyverns. All valuable information that the upcoming raid would find useful.
Lessa Morningsong was, at the moment, a lithe and powerful bundle of feline power and cunning. She was a Night Elf, trained in the ways of nature, a protector of balance and the wild as a Druid. Her current shape, that of a dark furred panther, was one of the many mighty powers she had learned. The panther slunk through the shadows of the Cross Roads, scouting it out and making mental notes on all of it. This would be a decisive action.
She had never wanted to get involved in the squabbles of the Alliance and the Horde. In her training and early adventuring days, her thoughts were focused on the menace of the Burning Legion. Then she went to her people's ancestral home of Ashenvale and saw the depridations of the vile, savage Horde as the Warsong clan hewed down the ancient and sacred trees of the night elves without though or care. That had made up her mind. They would be stopped! Losing this Barrens outpost would force them to withdraw from Ashenvale, or at least deplete the garrison there so a strike could be made to make them leave. Invaders. Despoiliers! Elune might have mercy on them, but she would not!
The druid slipped out through a hole in the hide barriers that had been erected as walls around the town. Now she just had to get back. It shouldn't be an issue. The Horde that were here were generally inexperienced and far less powerful than her. Once she was safe from the eyes of the sentry, she pushed her power inward, returning herself to her true form.
Lessa was tall as all night elves were, standing 6' 2" tall. She had an agile and graceful build that still featured generous curves; both her high, pert, luscious breasts and her firm, bubble ass. Her legs were long and sleek, her stomach taut and flat, her body looking delicate despite its strength. She wore a set of dark leathers that hugged her body, accentuating her breasts, a bit large for her people, and her supple shape. Her skin was a rosy pink, her lovely, young looking face decorated with two purplish tattoos that went down over either eye. Her hair was as white as snow, falling loosely in front but gathered into a loose tail in back. Her eyes glowed a faint but steady silver. In her hands she held a wicked looking spear.
The druid lifted a small white stone from a pouch at her belt. She could sneak across the plains, but this was the fastest way to get out of here. She closed her eyes, focusing to activate the power of the hearth stone...
Lessa Morningsong was, at the moment, a lithe and powerful bundle of feline power and cunning. She was a Night Elf, trained in the ways of nature, a protector of balance and the wild as a Druid. Her current shape, that of a dark furred panther, was one of the many mighty powers she had learned. The panther slunk through the shadows of the Cross Roads, scouting it out and making mental notes on all of it. This would be a decisive action.
She had never wanted to get involved in the squabbles of the Alliance and the Horde. In her training and early adventuring days, her thoughts were focused on the menace of the Burning Legion. Then she went to her people's ancestral home of Ashenvale and saw the depridations of the vile, savage Horde as the Warsong clan hewed down the ancient and sacred trees of the night elves without though or care. That had made up her mind. They would be stopped! Losing this Barrens outpost would force them to withdraw from Ashenvale, or at least deplete the garrison there so a strike could be made to make them leave. Invaders. Despoiliers! Elune might have mercy on them, but she would not!
The druid slipped out through a hole in the hide barriers that had been erected as walls around the town. Now she just had to get back. It shouldn't be an issue. The Horde that were here were generally inexperienced and far less powerful than her. Once she was safe from the eyes of the sentry, she pushed her power inward, returning herself to her true form.
Lessa was tall as all night elves were, standing 6' 2" tall. She had an agile and graceful build that still featured generous curves; both her high, pert, luscious breasts and her firm, bubble ass. Her legs were long and sleek, her stomach taut and flat, her body looking delicate despite its strength. She wore a set of dark leathers that hugged her body, accentuating her breasts, a bit large for her people, and her supple shape. Her skin was a rosy pink, her lovely, young looking face decorated with two purplish tattoos that went down over either eye. Her hair was as white as snow, falling loosely in front but gathered into a loose tail in back. Her eyes glowed a faint but steady silver. In her hands she held a wicked looking spear.
The druid lifted a small white stone from a pouch at her belt. She could sneak across the plains, but this was the fastest way to get out of here. She closed her eyes, focusing to activate the power of the hearth stone...