Commander Pinter Ch. 09

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Spending a night in Admiral Taylor's garrison.
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Part 9 of the 10 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 02/04/2015
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Myrnh
Myrnh
37 Followers

The garrison's wooden walls lined the hill like a crown. Watch posts on each corner held a commanding view of the forest, the approaching paths, and the ocean to the west. It was prime real estate in Spires of Arak, the perfect location to defend and hold against an onslaught of marauding Orcs or Ogres. It was the first Alliance foothold in Draenor, and you wouldn't know by looking at it that everyone inside was dead.

Pinter let her talbuk slow as if it sensed death from a quarter mile away. Mandala, Anna, and Jarvus slowed their talbuks, as well, and a chill overtook the valley as Admiral Taylor's garrison came full into view.

"We couldn't believe it, either," Anna said. "There it was, and there he was."

"Just as jovial as ever," Jarvus said. "Like in all the stories."

It was all they had talked about since returning from their scouting mission two nights ago. Admiral Taylor was dead. Every report had indicated so after an uprising sprouted within the walls of his garrison, as a small faction of his men mutinied, failed, but still managed to bring about the deaths of everyone inside the walls. Pinter's druid friends had been sent to search for clues of what happened. What they found instead was a garrison full of ghosts. Walking and talking ghosts, and Admiral Taylor was there leading them. Pinter and Mandala had to see for themselves.

"This will make the Southport memorial all the more interesting," Mandala said.

"He'll probably get a kick out of it," Pinter said.

And for some reason she felt no fear as the air chilled her to the bone. None of the other adventurers did, Pinter realized. Their talbuk mounts acted with animal sensitivity as they approached the dead garrison, a true animal reaction that rational beings would never fully understand. But the adventurers felt no fear. There was a presence, but it was a good presence. It was Admiral Taylor. He would never be tainted with evil, not even in death. Pinter smiled as she thought of him, and as they neared the gates of his garrison two transparent guards walked forward to greet them.

"Commander Pinter," one of the guards said with a bow of his ghost head. "Good to see you, ma'am."

"Is the Admiral waiting?" Pinter asked.

"Right this way."

The guards led the adventurers through the half-finished garrison. Soldiers teemed around the barracks. The barn was full of workers tending to equipment and bailing hay. A dozen Stormwind nags roamed the stable grounds, and the inn was a hotbed of activity with workers, civilians, and soldiers roaming in and out as they rested from their daily duties. The whole place was an efficient machine, and the only thing off about the picture was that everyone was dead. Every last person in Admiral Taylor's garrison was a ghost, but none of them seemed to care as they forever toiled at tasks that would remain unfinished. They worked as if their routines still mattered, as if the Alliance still called upon them and they would deliver. For some reason, it warmed Pinter's heart.

When she looked at Mandala on her talbuk, the same warmth was in the Draenei's smile.

Admiral Taylor's town hall was a shack compared to Pinter's back in Shadowmoon, and it broke her heart to wonder what greatness the whole of Draenor missed out on with the tragedy that had transpired here. Admiral Taylor was a born leader. He could unite, and he could guide the most rag-tag people through the darkest of days. His garrison was an unfinished stronghold, and the battle line against the Iron Horde was just a little weaker without the full might of Stormwind's most celebrated hero in the ranks.

They leashed their talbuks to a post at the door. The animals started and stomped in brief agitation, but a few soothing words from Mandala brought them under control. The guards showed them into the town hall, and Pinter's eyes adjusted to the light.

"Commander Pinter!" a familiar voice said.

She grinned, and there he was. Admiral Taylor. Just as proud, commanding, and boisterous as in life. Pinter laughed as the ghost of Admiral Taylor gripped her in a great bear hug. "It's marvelous to see you, sir," Pinter said.

"Me?" Admiral Taylor asked with a broad smile. "Look at you! You were just a pup when you crossed through the portal with us. Now look at you, Commander Pinter. Get a load of her, Mandala."

"She's come a long way," Mandala said.

"I had to see you for myself, Admiral, sir," Pinter said. "News of what happened here has spread, but to find out you're still...with us..."

"You think you're confused," Admiral Taylor said. "I'm the one who expected to be having drinks with great-grampa Alfonse while he shat all over my exploits and said the only good Orc is a dead one."

"Do you remember what happened?" Mandala asked. "Is the Alliance in danger?"

"There is no danger," Admiral Taylor said. "The uprising failed, but unfortunately everyone here was caught in the crossfire. I was the last to die, right over there." He pointed to the fireplace where a small blood stain was a monument to the fallen leader. "I never thought a Human blade would kill me, but how's that for irony?"

"So the uprising was contained?" Pinter asked.

"It's over with," Admiral Taylor said. "Ephial here saw to it."

Admiral Taylor pointed to a slick young man, an apparition who was handsome once but who was nothing more than a spirit now. He wore a black vest and black trousers, and a long dagger was sheathed on his waist. "Indeed," Ephial said. "Nobody escaped. Not while I still breathed."

"Singlehandedly blocked every avenue of escape and died bringing the last of those usurpers to justice," Admiral Taylor said with a hefty clap on the young man's back. "Just a shame we couldn't save the others."

"Where are the usurpers?" Pinter asked.

"Gone to answer for their sins, no doubt," Ephial said.

"There's been no sign of them," Admiral Taylor said. "Only those pure of heart have set foot inside these walls since the uprising. Just how I would have it. And you, Commander Pinter, are welcome here whenever you see fit to visit."

"I thank you," Pinter said.

"Perhaps you and your friends can help us with something while you are here, Commander," Ephial said. "Admiral Taylor is quite the diplomat, even in death."

"Anything you need," Pinter said.

"I was sent here to make headway with the Akkroans," Admiral Taylor said. "I did just that. We're expecting a delegation any minute, actually, if you would like to sit in and assist us."

"We're at your disposal," Pinter said, drawing eager grins from Anna and Jarvus.

"I will lend my blade to Admiral Taylor whenever called upon," Mandala said.

A horn sounded. Admiral Taylor and Ephial perked at the noise. "Right on time," Admiral Taylor said. "Let's meet our guests."

There were four riders. Three of them, by Pinter's understanding, were Akkroan, the little bird folk who once dominated this region but were felled by an uprising within their own ranks, much like what had happened to Admiral Taylor. They were short and squat on their tiny boar mounts, comical even as they bounced with the quick footsteps of their steeds. The Akkroan's bore bright red feathers and wore cloaks that covered their bodies, and they sat with a slouch that indicated a depth of wisdom far beyond the understanding of Human, Orc, or any other Azeroth race. They rode quick and steady on their boar mounts, but it was the rider atop the swift palomino that drew Pinter's attention.

It was a Draenei, a female, dressed in pale gray and blue robes that looked like the tribal gear of a shaman, but the enormous staff on her back gave away her standing as a mage. Her skin was a bright blue, nearly shimmering white in the daylight, and her horns had the same upward sweep as Mandala's, her hair the same shade of brown. Pinter turned to her paladin friend to ask in jest whether or not the two knew each other.

"Indrid!" Mandala cried out with a beaming smile, and she ran to meet the approaching delegation.

The Draenei mage reared up her palomino and descended in time to meet Mandala's charging embrace. They spun each other around with the love known only between sisters. "My little sister!" Indrid said. "You couldn't keep me away forever."

The Akkroans dismounted and moved past the jubilant Draenei women, heading for Admiral Taylor who extended his hand in greeting. "What are we without the sky?" the leading Akkroan asked in a raspy voice. He carried a rolled up scroll on his back like a warrior carrying a shield.

"It is good to see you again, Rukhmar," Admiral Taylor said, and he took the Akkroan's gnarly little hand in a friendly shake. "And I see you bring a guest that my Alliance friends are familiar with."

"Indrid comes with a task handed down by your King, Admiral Taylor," Rukhmar said.

"It's true," Indrid said, her voice a little higher than Mandala's but amplified equally wonderful by her accent. "I come with orders from Jaina Proudmoore, handed down by Varian Himself. I will bring you home, Admiral Taylor. You must come with me."

"But my business is here," Admiral Taylor said with a broad gesture around his dead garrison. "We are not yet finished with construction, and I just made headway with the Akkroans."

"You serve your people well in death," Rukhmar said. "But your time in this world is at an end. Your followers long for peace. You may grant them peace, and we will parlay with your successor."

"But who..." Admiral Taylor started, and then he looked at Pinter. He calmed, and he smiled warmly. "Of course. Commander Pinter, it would appear you are the new ambassador of the Alliance."

"This job gets more interesting every day," Pinter said.

"I have orders to bring you tonight," Indrid said. "But the Akkroans have something to say about that."

"Skyreach," Rukhmar said.

Anna looked around in confusion. "Skyreach?" she asked. "What's that? Some sort of crystal wonderland?"

"Not far off," Admiral Taylor said. "Skyreach is the throne of Akkroan culture, but since their downfall it has been overrun by the leadership of the __________. We had worked in close contact for weeks planning a raid to liberate Skyreach and return it to its rightful owners, but the insurrection here had other plans."

"Why not go with Indrid and we can take over from here?" Pinter asked.

"There is too much to know about Skyreach and those who defile it," Rukhmar said. "It would take even more weeks to prepare you."

"And time is something we don't have," Admiral Taylor said. "The _________ plan an offensive any day now to drive the Akkroans from Spires of Arak, and there are still the Shattered Hand Orcs to the north."

"But we killed Kargath in Highmaul," Jarvus said.

"They are out for blood," Admiral Taylor said. "They are weak, but the Shattered Hand always come to collect."

Mandala looked at her sister. "Are you willing to wait?" she asked. "It was never your strongest suit."

"Willing," Indrid said. "But not happy about it."

"And with you here, Commander, we just might be able to pull this off," Admiral Taylor said.

"We will gladly assist you," Pinter said. She turned to Rukhmar and knelt with her head bowed in gratitude. "My friends and I will provide whatever aid you need."

"Thank you," Rukhmar said as he reached into his robes with his gnarly hand. "You are as honorable and patient as the man who stands with us as a spirit. And as such, you are equally deserving of the same gift."

Rukhmar produced a small, shining rod, golden in the sun with a crease fully around its middle. The Akkroan offered it to Pinter. "What's this?" she asked.

"A seer's staff," Rukhmar said. "It is an honor to obtain one, and each holds a different function for those who possess it."

"It is an honor," Admiral Taylor said. "You truly are the Alliance's ambassador, Pinter."

Pinter turned the rod over in her hands. It was beautiful. "I don't know what to say," Pinter said.

"You will speak with your actions," Rukhmar said.

* * *

Pinter hanged her cloak in the wardrobe and sat on the edge of her bed. After dining in the town hall that evening they were granted rooms in Admiral Taylor's inn, the Ravager's Claw. Anna was quick to room with Jarvus, quick to give Pinter and Mandala their privacy, although neither of them would have minded rooming with the druid girl. She was a fun lay. Pinter still found it amusing how everyone respected the relationship she had with Mandala, as if part of being Commander was selecting a sidekick and lover. Pinter and Mandala were just friends, as they had established, but they enjoyed all the benefits of true coupling.

So it was Skyreach in the morning, and then Indrid would return to Azeroth to lay Admiral Taylor's spirit to some sort of rest only Jaina Proudmoore could provide. The speed of events from the last few weeks was finally catching up with Pinter. Highmaul toppled. The Everbloom sealed. Auchindoun cleansed. Tomorrow Skyreach would be liberated. Pinter wondered what danger would spring up next, if it was knocking Blackrock out of the war or finally spearheading back to Tanaan Jungle. This is how every Alliance hero had spent their time throughout history, and Pinter was realizing she was no different. Not even twenty years old and already Commander of Draenor, soon to be the Alliance's ambassador with Admiral Taylor's coming rest. She marveled at having come so far since that frozen day in Frostfire Ridge, since that incredible night with Kerrak. Again she thanked whatever force had brought her and the Orc shaman together, and she vowed to find her when all of this business was over.

The door opened and in walked Mandala drying her hair with a white towel.

"Is Indrid down for the night?" Pinter asked.

"She's still at the bar," Mandala said. "She's not happy, but at least we talked about Azuremyst Isle. Such a beautiful place. I'll take you there sometime."

"She seems a little uptight," Pinter said as Mandala set down her towel and removed her robe. Her naked, purple skin was a miracle as always. Pinter listened, but she could never take her eyes off of those perky breasts and that soft, strong ass.

"She is a stateswoman," Mandala said, tossing on a light shirt that she left unbuttoned. Her dark nipples slipped in and out of cover like playful children. "Indrid has to be in charge. Always has, always will."

Mandala sat down next to Pinter on the bed. There were two beds in the room, but Pinter was sure the other would see no use. "Have you figured out what that thing is for?" Mandala asked.

Pinter picked up the seer's rod from the nightstand. It was sleek and light in her hand. "Not yet," Pinter said as she turned it over. "I wonder if it's a time thing, like you have to wait a while to figure it out or something. Or maybe..."

Pinter touched something. She wasn't sure what, but suddenly the rod grew like it was spring activated. The two ends shot open twelve inches to either side, both ends curving upward at a slight angle, but it remained sleek and metallic. "What did you do?" Mandala asked, inching closer for a better look.

"I didn't do anything," Pinter said, and then the rod began to vibrate.

Mandala laughed. "What a silly thing," she said.

"I know," Pinter said. "What did Rukhmar say? Each one of these holds a different purpose for those who possess it?"

"I wonder what this one holds for you," Mandala said.

Pinter cradled the rod in her palm, holding it up for both of them to see. It vibrated with a quiet hum, but there were no clicks or rattles of inner workings. The rod vibrated by some unseen power. Whatever it was meant for, it worked specifically for Pinter.

As she held it, the vibration trailed into her wrist. Up her arm. To her elbow. There was something warm about it, something soothing even. Pinter smiled as the vibration ran up her bicep and into her armpit, and she shifted as it entered her chest. Her core lit up, and her nipples went erect.

"What was that?" Mandala asked.

"I don't know," Pinter said, and suddenly she went moist. She laughed.

"What's going on?" Mandala asked, inching even closer, her curiosity peaked at Pinter's animated reaction.

Pinter's breath had deepened and sped up. "I think I, um," she said, and she breathed to collect her thoughts that had gone frazzled. "I think I know what it's, um."

"Yes?" Mandala said.

Pinter put her hand flat on her belly and closed her eyes, breathing, feeling the vibration deep inside of her now. She absently worked the clasp of her pants, and she opened them. She slid them down past her hips, and she put the rod between her legs.

"Pinter!" Mandala said.

But she was gone. Pinter poked one of the upward curved ends against her clit, and she lit up with an aroused grin as the vibration intensified like a stoked fire. She writhed into a crouch on the bed, and she rotated the end against her clit. She moaned, and she laughed as the insides of her thighs went hot with vaginal juices, then cold as they chilled in the air. She worked the rod between her legs. She held it tightly, and she pressed it hard onto her sex.

The shock went straight up her belly. Pinter cried out loudly. She rotated the rod faster. Her brow furrowed. She bent over forward, put one hand flat on the bed, and masturbated herself as the intensity, the fire of her arousal peaked now. She rocked back and forth on her knees. The bed legs creaked. Her pants were piping hot around her feet, but she loved the security of it, the warm safety of this moment. Pinter was wild, and she held the vibrating tip of the rod firmly in place against her clit as one more wave of pleasure hit her. And she cried out again as she came.

Mandala touched Pinter's back, but she barely felt it. Her body rumbled with her orgasm, and she gripped the bed sheets tight, balling them up in a fist. Pinter fell on her forearm, and she caught her breath as her head cleared. So that's what it held for her.

"Pinter?" Mandala said as she gently stroked Pinter's back. "There are two ends."

She didn't think about it. Pinter took off her trousers and turned to face Mandala, who sat with her legs already spread open for her. The Draenei's cute little hairless pussy greeted her as always, and Pinter held the rod between them, angling herself, spreading her own legs as she sat back. Pinter placed her rod tip against her opening. It still vibrated, and the sensation sent a rush of blood to her head. Her ears rang as Mandala move closer, gently taking her end, placing it against her labia.

The Draenei tossed her head back and closed her eyes. "Oh, my," she said. "That's lovely."

"Mmhm," Pinter said. She waited for Mandala to position the rod, and then Pinter pressed.

Both women moaned as they penetrated themselves. Pinter held the rod as they pressed together, and when their crotches were nearly touching she let go. They were both on board. The vibration ran into Pinter's core again, up through her womb. She looked into Mandala's bright blue eyes, and they grinned at each other. Mandala giggled and bit her lip. She ran her hand up the back of Pinter's leg. Pinter put her hand on Mandala's hip. Both of them went serious, and they fucked each other.

They rocked slowly at first, moving their hips with careful precision as they worked the rod that was so deep inside them. They moved in synchronous rhythm as they knew each other. They had shared so many intimate moments together and understood each other's zones. They anticipated each other's needs.

Pinter kept her hand on Mandala's hip, reaching lower, grabbing the Draenei's beautiful ass. She felt behind her and rubbed the base of Mandala's tail. Mandala grit her teeth a little and sped up. They fucked each other, their own grinding and riding on the rod not only serving to peak themselves but to send the other higher and higher with a converse effect as the tips shifted and massaged their innards. Pinter sped up with faster pushes, watching her crotch as the rod shifted in and out of her just a little. Mandala's labia held the other end of the rod, the lips closed lovingly around the gold steel that penetrated deep inside her. Pinter glanced at her lover's eyes, and she was close. Mandala gritted her teeth even tighter, and Pinter pushed the rod into her as hard as she could. It only fueled Mandala's thrusts. Pinter felt the opposite effect, the deep grinding vibration inside her own pussy. Pinter sighed, sensing the home stretch. Mandala gripped her shoulder tightly, readying herself, and they fucked each other.

Myrnh
Myrnh
37 Followers
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