Small Miracles

By Veeshan123

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Yolandra awoke, surrounded by darkness and disoriented. Was it a nightmare, the elf wondered Her mind began to slowly process what had just occurred. She remembered being in the Temple of the Moon, struggling for her life along with the other priestesses. The impossibly heavy doors of the structure had been forced open by some dark magic, and then a great glistening mass poured through the gate and into the courtyard of the Temple. Spiders, dozens upon dozens of them, began to fall upon the Night Elves. She remembered running, her ears filled with the desperate pleas of her friends as one by one they were taken by the beasts. The girl in front of her was knocked down by a blur, one of the beasts. Yolandra remembered staggering backwards in horror as the spider sank it's fangs into the pinned body of the girl, immediately ceasing her struggles.

She then remembered feeling a great weight crash against her side, along with the sensation of hard appendages clasping her body with an unyielding grip as she fell towards the floor. Then something else happened, the elf tried to recollect. There was a feeble struggle, the fangs inches away from her body, her arms pinned against her sides by the legs of the spider. But it didn't finish her off. There was some sound, a shrill chittering noise. The spider looped some webbing around her body, cinching her legs and arms together. The pressure of the creature's weight was relieved as it scurried off of her. Then she felt herself being dragged, pulled by a tether of webbing. The marble floor of the temple scrapped against her as the spider pulled her across the courtyard and towards the door. Yolandra remembered crying out for help, struggling fruitlessly against the silken ties around her body. But there were so many cries, so much yelling and fighting. Her voice melted into the great cacophony of the great hall, lost amongst the chaos, which now started to echo off in the distance as her bound form passed through the temple's entrance and out into the relatively quiet night.

Her soft lavender skin stung and burned as she continued her journey down the great ramp leading from the temple, scrapped by hard stone. Even though the Night Elves were master masons, able to chisel a stone as smooth as glass, the speed and roughness with which she was being dragged still caused painful friction with the surface. The elf remembered how welcome the cool, soft grass felt as she left the road to the temple and found herself being dragged across the earth. Her pain slightly relieved, she tried to strengthen her struggles against the ties that bound frame. Although the silk was soft, it felt hard and rigid from the tightness with which it was tied about her. She remembered continuing her struggles as she glided across of the damp grass, her backside soaked by both perspiration and the plants.

How long was it, she tried to reason to herself, it felt like hours. The boughs and branches of the world tree then seeped into her thoughts, their gnarled and thick forms extending out far into the distance. The memories of that moment suddenly snapped into sharp focus as she began to remember. The dragging had stopped near a bough of the great tree. Yolandra remembered only being able to stare in horror as she looked upon dozens, perhaps hundreds, of silvery oblong bundles hanging from the great limb. As her eyes focused, she realized they had the unmistakable silhouette of the female form. A procession of large spiders worked their way along the length of the mighty tree bough, cocooned night elves trailing behind them. Others went about securing the packages to the sides and bottom of the great limb, suspending them upside down from thick silk tethers or adhering their bodies tightly against the bark with wide, sticky sheets. She remembered watching many of the tethered cocoons lazily rock back and forth, wondering if it was the wind, the vibrations of the spiders above, or the feeble struggles of the imprisoned occupant.

The elf then felt fear welling up insider as she then remembered what happened next. There was a great spider, easily three times as large as the rest, that plodded slowly towards her. She remembered it looming over her form, it's eight glowing eyes seemingly piercing into her very soul as it stared at the bound elf, the beast's gaze unbroken as multiple spiders swarmed over the body of the Yolandra. She remembered feeling the silken ties that bound her being released, then her unsuccessfully trying to defend herself with her aching limbs. Strong, chitinous limbs pressed her arms and legs against the soil and forced them apart, pinning her in a spread eagle fashion. Another spider then crawled on her, it's mouth chewing at her robe as it ignored the harmless and limited struggle of the elf's torso. She distinctly remembered the sensation of cool, night air on her damp skin as her gossamer robe was pulled free of her body, exposing her firm perspiration soaked form. Her breasts slightly flattened as her chest pushed skyward, the elf's spine and shoulders strained into an arch as she tried to extricate herself from the spider's grip.

Yolandra then remembered the great mass of the giant spider hovering over her body, it's bulbous and grotesque abdomen filling her vision. She remembered crying out in horror as a wet, glistening tube slowly wormed out of the base of the spider and began to head towards her exposed sex. Her eyes were closed in both a mixture of fear, pleasure, and pain as the violating object slipped into her vagina and traveled deeply within her. The flesh around her crotch began to deepen into a darkened purple as the blood engorged the area surrounding the thick tube, slick with her juices and spider slime. She remembered opening her eyes, after regaining enough courage, and the terrible vision then seared permanently into her memory as she witnessed a procession of ivory white orbs travel down the tube and towards her helpless body. The elf could recollect the sensation of the tube pulsing, then pushing one of the orbs past the entrance of her sex and deep inside towards her womb. The sensation continued for what seemed an eternity, filling her to the point of bursting, until she finally felt the tube begin to spray some manner of liquid into her depths as it slowly withdrew. With an audible slurping pop the tube exited her body, spraying her crotch and thighs with the same liquid she felt being spewed inside her.

She felt an odd sensation, a curious sort of tingling, at first deep within her then slowly spreading. The elf momentarily forgot about that feeling as the tube was now forced past her lips and into her throat. Using what little strength she had left, Yolandra tried to bite into the offending object, hoping to hurt the beast if not totally bite through the tube. Unfortunately, the flesh was far firmer and harder then she had hoped, and she found that with her jaw stretched wide it was hard to even attempt a bite. She gagged as fluid was forced down her throat, the excess spilling from the sides of her lips and drenching her face, neck, and hair. Bursts of light began to light up before her eyes as she felt herself asphyxiating, drowned by the relentless flow of liquid. As she felt her vision darken, the tube was swiftly pulled from her mouth, a small amount of the fluid splashing against her face as it ascended back towards the abdomen of the giant spider.

She remembered trying to spit out whatever of the foul liquid she could, then finding her throat clenched shut. The tingling she had felt before seemed to course through her face, neck, and body now. Her eyes seemed glued shut, and even more alarmingly, her nostrils seemed to be shut as well. She tried to struggle, hoping to get air, but found that her body was even less responsive then before. Even things sounded differently, more muted, as if she was underwater. The tingling seemed to permeate throughout her flesh, and as it did she found that oddly enough she didn't need to breath anymore. She remembered her mind racing, confused as to what was occurring to her. The elf barely even noticed when the spiders began to place her limbs against her body in preparation to spin her into a silken cocoon. Tight, form fitting wrap rapidly encircled her body, compressing her transmuting flesh quite snugly. She remembered the sensation of spinning and twirling, of tightness flowing along her body, of being dragged...and then nothing until she had awoke just now.

If Yolandra was able to, she would have cried out in terror. Her nightmare was one from which one could not awaken, and she was trapped in it. She imagined herself as one of those bundles she had seen earlier, hanging like some piece of anonymous fruit from the bough of the world tree, surrounded by the bodies of her people. The analogy took on new meaning as she felt the seeds within her begin to vibrate and shake. Her gelled flesh began to quiver ever so slightly as the infant spiders began to poke against the soft egg casings that enveloped them. Although she had no idea how many eggs the spider had deposited, with each passing moment she felt more and more stirring from deep inside her. Yolandra's web sheathed body, inverted upside down and suspended by a taut line of silk, began to gently rock back and forth as the collective struggles of the hatchlings began to reverberate through her body. The elf, deprived of all sense save for touch, could begin to feel more pronounced movement within. A few of the stronger infants had freed themselves from the egg sacs and had begun to feed upon the nutritious jelly they found themselves surrounded with, instinctively feasting in the direction of Yolandra's skin. The elf felt the movement spread out as the spiderlings began to feast and burrow to various points in her body.

Enchanted by dark magic, as they consumed the girl's jellied flesh they immediately began to grow at an accelerated rate. While she felt no pain, she found that her ability to feel had begun to dull. Unbeknownst to her, the famished babies had succeeded in hollowing most of the elf out. The stronger hatchlings, sated for now, had already begun to burst through her at various points. She could feel as the young spiders pushed and gnawed at areas of her tummy, back, crotch, breasts, and even mouth. One by one, the babies cut through the silk sheath that contained Yolandra's jellied body and crawled out into the world, crawling up her body onto the bough of the tree and leaving their nursery behind. The elf, mind still in shock from the whole ordeal, casually noted each baby as it left the confines of her body. She imagined the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of infants now bursting forth from the cocooned females dotted along the branch, the wrapped occupants perhaps pondering the same thing. There was now noticeably a lot less movement within her, from the best she could tell anyways. Just faint twitches in her arms, legs, and head as the last remaining hatchlings consumed whatever was left to bolster their own development. She felt the numbness spread towards her brain as the hungry mouths worked their way towards the last vestiges of nourishment available to them. Her thoughts focused on them drawing closer, until eventually she just faded away into the great beyond.

High above, perched on a frail branch, a lone sprite darter observed the events occurring below. Thousands of spiders, growing larger by the moment, streamed away from the hatchery and towards the ground. Fresh troops for Staghelm's army, grown from the bodies of the very foe he sought to subdue. The animal's eyes, glowing with an outer worldly intelligence, watched and contemplated the events at hand. It knew that once Darnassus and the world tree itself were overrun, that this new threat would find it's ways to the shores of Kalimdor and beyond. Elves, humans, orcs...they were all in great peril, and they would not realize it until it was too late. The small reptile took flight, it's pixie like wings softly beating against the night air. Perhaps there was still time to stop the archdruid. That is, if there was anyone left alive.

****

Shandaris Feathermoon, body still tightly held by the taut sack of the plant that had consumed her earlier, twitched and gyrated as she was hit with orgasm after orgasm. If she was capable of reasoning, she no doubt would have wondered how long this torment would go on for. The chemicals of the plant, now coursing through her very veins, made that all but impossible. She had been turned into a living battery, every ounce of her energy focused on creating wave after wave of sexual pleasure. The vines, still imbedded within her, passively soaked in every drop of moisture her body could produce. The walls of the sack that cocooned her squeezed her, absorbing the intense heat her body was generating with each climax. The elf's strength was the only thing keeping her alive. Normally the plant's prey would begin to tire and shutdown after a few hours of this, their energy drained by the tiring endeavor. Shandaris, however, had been keeping this pace for almost an entire day. The steady and constant output of energy was welcome to the plant, as it had long ago digested the other elves is had caught earlier, and prey was now hard to come by.

"Amazing," Staghelm observed, having watched her ever since her capture and consumption, "I knew I did not choose poorly, thank you for confirming that."

Striding forward, he reached up and rubbed his hand along her thigh, outlined by the tight elastic sack. She didn't seem to react to the touch, her mind and body focused on satisfying the plant's needs. A smile crept along his face.

"I think the time for harvest is at hand," He said, clutching at the sack firmly now.

The base of the sack began to shrink, as if constricted by some unseen noose. The elastic walls of the sack pressed hard against the vines, which snaked from the base and into the night elf, soon after which the vines themselves began to be constricted by the unseen force. With a splash of sap and fluid, the sack encasing Shandaris fell from the vine of the plant and crashed onto the soft earthen floor below. The vines that had been attached to the elf, severed by Staghelm's magic, began to flail about madly before finally being withdrawn inside the main stalk of the plant. Thick sap began to flow from the gapping hole where the sack used to be, coagulating quickly to seal the fresh wound.

Turning his attention to the sack lying before him, Staghelm knelt down and began to cut away at the fibrous covering with a dagger he had produced from his belt. After carefully cutting an incision down the length of her body, the archdruid then peeled it back as if one would the skin of a banana. Shandaris lie still, body still wrapped in a cocoon and cut vines still imbedded in her body. He gave a quick tug, hoping to pull them free, but found them quite firmly lodged.

"Ah yes, I forgot they do that..." He reminded himself as he waved a hand over her body. The vines immediately began to shrivel into brown, wrinkled husks.

"There we go," Staghelm said aloud.

The vines, their bulbous ends now shrunken and dedicated, offered no resistance now as the archdruid yanked them from her body. He then set about to cut the cocoon sheathing the body of woman, his pace quickening as the silk began to yield to his knife and reveal the wet flesh below.

"Perfection," He breathed as the final vestige of the silk cocoon was pulled from her body.

Shandaris lie unconscious, her body exhausted from it's ordeal with the plant. Her hair was slicked back and matted with sweat and plant fluids, which framed her damp, but flawless face. Staghelm watched as her firm breasts slowly heaved up and down as her body took in actual air for the first time in many hours, then allowed his eyes to travel down the rest of her body, skin glistening with liquid, until he finally eyed her crotch, now puffy and dark from her intense arousal.

"Enough rest, my dear, you have work to do..." Staghelm said, now turning his gaze towards her face. He reached into one of his many pouches and procured a small pinch of dust. Rubbing his fingers together slowly over her, he watched as the enchanted dust fell upon her soaked skin. Almost immediately the nude elf began to stir, her limbs weakly moving. Staghelm reached towards her face and began to scrap away the sap and fluid that had collected on the elf's eyes. Cleared of the offending fluid, Shandaris began to slowly open her eyes.

"Nuhhhhh," She moaned. Her hand began to creep towards her sex, where it began to make a weak rubbing motion. Her body, awash with the chemicals of the plant, was still very much under their sway. She didn't even acknowledge the face now looking down upon her as being Staghelm. All that she could focus on the overpowering desire to satisfy her sexual needs, to continue the cycle of unending orgasm. The archdruid knew this would continue for potentially weeks, after which the chemicals in her blood would have finally weakened to the point of losing their potency, assuming more of it wasn't introduced into her system.

"I imagine you need some strong release, regardless of how that is achieved," Staghelm said to the female elf, fully aware that she probably didn't even understand him, "I would be more then happy to aid you."

Shandaris seemed to focus on the voice, breathing ragged as she brought herself to another orgasm. Even the slow, weak movements of her hand were enough to bring her to climax. She gazed at him with eyes half open, their glazed look betraying she was not fully there. The elf seemed to be trying to say something, her lips sometimes seeming to be on the verge of forming a word, but unintelligible noises were all that were emitted. The archdruid knelt down beside her quivering body, taking in the scene.

"I was going to wait so that Tyrande could witness this, but I suppose a little practice session would be just fine," He reasoned, his hand reaching to undo one of the clasps for his robe.

The nude elf, as if instinctually realizing what he was doing, feebly began to reach towards the disrobing male beside her. She softly clawed at his garments. Staghelm grinned at her apparent eagerness, gently grasping her damp hand in his own and placing it back by her side. Happy to oblige her wants, he quickly removed the rest of his clothing, leaving him just as nude as she. Her hand once more began to wander towards the kneeling druid, this time homing in his now very erect penis. Her fingers, still slick with the fluids of the plant, gently gripped it. It pulsed in response to her touch, which caused the grip to tighten.

"If you insist," He said, peeling her hand from his manhood. Instead of once again placing it on the ground, he meshed his fingers with hers, holding her hand firmly against his own. With his free hand he reached over and removed her other hand from her crotch, likewise intertwining the fingers with his. She shifted slightly and a soft moan escaped her lips, as if to protest the sudden lack of stimulation. The druid pressed her right hand against the cool earth as began get to his feet. He began to move his body over her own, shuffling his legs between hers and pressing her other hand against the ground as he began to support his weight. Shandaris' legs began spreading to better accommodate him. She gazed up at his face, not even recognizing it, and bit her lower lip in anticipation.

Feeling an uncharacteristic rush of arousal and uncontrollable lust, he met her lips with his own. Shardaris' lips, soft and smooth, pressed hard against the druid. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, enthusiastically exploring the warm cavity. The feeling of Staghelm's stiffness rubbing against her swollen vagina caused her to renew her efforts against his mouth, her lips moving as if to devour him. The fluids of the plant and her own sex lubricated the druid's penis in short order, and he wasted no time in entering her. He gave out a pleasurable grunt as the head of his manhood slipped inside her slick sex. Even in spite of the plant's lengthy violation of her orifices, she was still remarkably tight. Her wet passage, soft as velvet, rippled around his penis as he plunged further into her burning hot depths. Wishing to savor that feeling again, he slowly began to withdraw. The druid relished the sensation of her muscles gripping him firmly, trying to prevent him from escaping with their juicy friction. He withdrew until his tip was just barely still imbedded inside, then began his inward stroke. Her damp body quivered underneath his own as she came to climax.

"Interesting," He said, pulling his lips away from the female's face. A single strand of saliva, mixed with the plant's fluid, dangled like a gossamer strand of silk between their mouths. As Staghelm raised his head slightly higher, the liquid string fell onto Shandaris' wet face. The sight gave the druid deviant ideas as he resumed his steady pumping motion, quickening his pace. The air filled with the sounds of wet slapping and guttural moans that escaped the female's mouth as her body came repeatedly, forced to quick orgasm by the plant's devilish enzymes flowing within her. Although he was immune to the effect of the chemicals, Staghelm found himself no less stimulated. He felt himself approaching the edge himself, the familiar pulsing and tingling that signaled the arrival of his seed, eager to be dumped deep into the female's womb...

A moment of clarity suddenly washed over the archdruid. Lust and desire had given way to other emotions, such as a deep emptiness. In his mind he suddenly saw himself and his long dead wife, locked in a passionate embrace. His memories continued, and he saw his young son Valstann, just an infant. A moment later, he saw the broken and bloodied body of his son. The sickening sound his flesh made as it was torn in half by the Silithids, then devoured by the mindless insect swarms. Although all these visions occurred in less then a second, in Staghelm's mind they may as well have been an eternity. He looked down upon the glistening and gyrating body of Shandaris, his penis still imbedded firmly within her and twitching as it prepared to finally release, and he suddenly felt disgust. Although logically he knew it was not truly an issue, part of him was petrified at prospect of potentially bringing another life into the world.

The druid withdrew fully from the elf and leapt to his feet. As his seed began to travel it's way up his length, he swiftly knelt over the face of the fevered Shandaris and slipped his glistening member past her lips and into her mouth. She instinctively wrapped her lips tightly around it's girth, forming an airtight seal, and began a strong sucking motion. Her tongue began to throughly explore the thing now in her mouth, seemingly savoring the plant fluid and her own sexual juices that coated it fully. Unable to hold it back any longer, Staghelm's penis gave one strong pulse as it shot a stream of sperm towards the back of Shandaris' throat.. The female elf gulped it down hungrily, treating it as if it were the plant's vine delivering it's load of chemical enriched fluid. His manhood pulsed a few more times, delivering a little less liquid each time, until he was finally spent. The elf continued to hungrily suck and nurse at it, unwilling to allow a single drop of moisture to escape her attention.

"I think it's time to pay someone a visit," Staghelm said, pressing the palm of his hand against the girl's forehead. He pushed against her as he began to get to his feet, causing his penis to flop from her mouth. She uttered a few unintelligible sounds and moans, displeased with the sudden vacancy. The archdruid stood over her for a moment, regarding her. He made an odd motion with his hand in the air, then stooped down to gather his garments.

"Lightly bind her limbs together and bring her to the temple with me," Staghelm said aloud, pulling his robe up over his shoulders.

From the darkness, a couple spiders suddenly appeared. They quickly scurried over to the nude form of Shandaris, gently gathering her limbs up and binding them against her frame. She didn't seem to react, save for the occasional squirm. Now secured, one of the spiders grabbed her body and hoisted it up from the ground. It draped her body over the back of a second spider which waited patiently nearby.

"Let's see if I can now make a more convincing case to our beloved priestess," The archdruid sneered. Motioning to the two spiders, he began to briskly walk in the direction of the Temple of the Moon. Obediently, the pair of arachnids and their cargo followed close behind.

As they made their way down the road, none of them realized they were being watched. High in one of the mighty trees, the sprite darter eyed their movements. It's focus was especially focused on the limb form of Shandaris, flopped across the chitinous back of one of Staghelm's beasts. So she still lives, the reptile thought. There was still time. If it could just get near her, there would still be a chance to stop the mad archdruid's plans before they came to fruition. There was also a good chance it could save not only Shandaris, but Tyrande as well. When it was sure no one was watching, the sprite darter leapt from it's perch in the tree and buzzed off into the air, it's diminutive body trying to propel itself to the temple as fast as it's frail wings could carry it.

****

The air inside the Temple of the Moon was deathly still. Most of the invading spiders had long since left in search of more food, most headed eastward through the city gates and towards the outlying villages and camps. Darnassus had been reduced to a husk, drained of life and as hollow as the wrapped priestesses that lined the walls and roof of the temple. Tyrande, still bound and suspended by countless strands of webbing, contemplated the fate of her people. Although directly there was no way she could know of the events transpiring, deep down she could sense the terrible loss being inflicted upon her people and the very land itself. In her mind, she could see vast waves of spiders washing over Dolanaar, Shadowglen, and Starbreeze. Night Elves running for their lives, powerless against the rising tide of destruction. She even suspected that the Furlbogs, Dryads, and even Satyrs were not safe. Indeed the whole world could be at peril.

A slight vibration in the web brought her attention to focus. Checking again to see if my protection is gone, she thought. By Staghelm's command, a long spider had remained behind to stand sentry over the high priestess' body and to examine for vulnerabilities. She felt her body rock slightly as the spider firmly prodded her cocoon. A soft blue glow emanated from the silvery wrappings, bathing the spider's orb-like eyes in their light. Seeing there had been no change in the divine protection, the spider swiftly scurried back along the web to it's hiding spot high above.

"Thank you, Mother Goddess," Tyrande prayed in her mind, "May your light guide our people, and may it guide those who would save us to render assistance in our plight."

But even as she prayed, her thoughts slowly began to drift to her love, Malfurion Stormrage. She remembered how many millennia ago he had almost become permanently lost within the Emerald Dream. With the help of dragon mage Krasus, the young priestess had been able to reach out to him and serve as a tether for this world. Her love alone had been strong enough to guide him back to his body, a monument to the intense feelings they shared for one another. But there was no body this time, no sage advice from the ancient Krasus, and her own safety was heavily in question.

"Not sleeping, I see," A voice boomed out, "Busy praying to Elune, wistfully longing for a hero, plotting my demise I imagine..."

Although slightly muffled by the wrappings that bound her ears, the voice was unmistakably Staghelm's. Tyrande knew that a strong struggle was impossible, but it didn't stop her from trying. Her vibrations traveled along the web, causing the sentry spider's head to poke out from it's perch to see what was going on.

"No matter, I've come bearing gifts and a very strong argument that I feel you might feel compelled to listen to," Staghelm called out, "Although perhaps a little visual aid might help..."

The archdruid reached into his pocket, procuring a leaf much like the one he had used to fell the hippogryph that Shandaris had flown in on. Rather then blow on it, he took his index finger moved it about on the leaf's surface, tracing some strange pattern. The leaf began to shiver in his palm, animated by the druidic magics he had worked upon it. It shot from his hand like a bullet, aimed squarely at the priestess' face. The leaf did not strike her, though. Moving in a blur, it began to expertly cut away at the bindings about Tyrande's eyes. The incisions were so razor sharp and precise that the shield that protected the elf did not even flare to life. Finished with it's task, the leaf then came to rest on the elf's cocooned forehead. Silk wrappings fluttered to the ground below, exposing Tyrande's brilliant silver eyes to the air for the first time in what seemed like days. She blinked a few times as she adjusted to the light, then turned her angry gaze upon Staghelm.

Intense disgust welled up inside her, her emotions barely in check as she looked upon the man who would decimate their race. Before her thoughts could steep more fully in that rage, she found her heart skip a beat as she spied what lie next to him. Stark naked and seemingly drugged, Shandaris lie no more then a foot away from Staghelm. Her expression alerted the archdruid to the fact she had noticed his bargaining chip.

"What have you done to her?" Tyrande thought.

"Not much but give her a taste of what to expect for the foreseeable future," Staghelm replied.

The high priestess blinked a few times. How had he heard her thoughts?

"The leaf which I used to liberate your eyes also has other uses," the druid answered, "Negotiating and debating is somewhat difficult when one side is unable to speak normally."

Tyrande's eyes glowered at the man below, "You still haven't answered my question, what is wrong with Shandaris?"

Staghelm looked at the nude elf beneath him and knelt down, laying his hand on her stomach. The female elf reacted to his touch, shifting her body weight slightly. One of her hands slowly began to reach towards the druid's robe.

"Nothing besides the fact that her mind and body live only to experience pleasure now," He said, slowly rubbing his hand in a circular motion across her belly, "Pleasure which I am more then capable of providing."

An intense rage began to build within Tyrande's heart, "You bastard! I don't know what you've done, but that isn't Shandaris. It's a shell, animated only by your twisted magics and vile fantasies."

Staghelm once more got to his feet and turned his gaze to Tyrande, "No, in a manner of speaking it is not her, but her soul lies buried deep within. Sometimes burying things can protect them, keep them safe from outside forces that might seek to damage, destroy, or misuse them..."

Once more looking at Shandaris, he continued, "However, if things are buried for too long they can decay or be forgotten. If they are buried deep enough, they can even be destroyed by the sheer weight that covers them. It is within my power to see that core is destroyed and lost, to reduce her permanently to the state you see before you...at least until I tire of her."

Tyrande looked upon the girl that was the closest thing to a daughter to her, reduced from a proud warrior to the pitiful state Staghelm had put her in, "And what would you have me do to save her from such a fate?"

The druid began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Tyrande shot at him.

The druid continued to laugh, "Besides you giving yourself freely to me, you must return my son to me!"

Tyrande blinked in disbelief, "You offer terms which are impossible. Your son has been dead for nearly ten thousand years! That is beyond my powers...that may even be beyond the powers of the red dragon queen!"

The druid's hand began to claw at the side of his head, as if a pressure inside was causing him discomfort, "Oh it can be done, there are ways. Your goddess sees fit to guard the likes of you, yet let an innocent boy be torn asunder by the ravenous claws of those damned beasts, much like I will tear this wench to pieces if you don't bring him to me!"

He turned to look at the girl, ready to enact his cruel revenge. Staghelm was shocked to be staring into the eyes of not the elf, but a small sprite darter that had perched upon her forehead. It's eyes, awash in a strange glow, seemed to pierce into the very depths of his shriveled soul.

"Begone pest," The druid decreed, performing a waving motion with his hand in the direction of the small animal. His intent was to summon strong roots from deep within the earth which would lash out and entangle the beast in their grasp, then crush it with their unyielding grip. To his surprise, nothing occurred. Once more he repeated the motion, and once more he found it had no effect.

"The forces of nature no longer heed you, traitor..." A strangely familiar voice clearly spoke within his mind, "They now only listen to a true friend of the earth..."

Staghelm's thoughts tried to wrap around the voice, to squeeze and spit it out like one would dispose of a seed in a fruit, "What, or who are you..."

The sprite darter fluttered into the air, well out of the druid's reach, it's gaze still fixed upon his face, "Do you not recognize one of your own order, one whom you sent out as a pawn in your vile plan?"

Staghelm's eyes grew wide, "Alu'Tra...no, that's impossible! I personally watched as the hatchlings devoured your body!"

The sprite darter hovered over the druid like a wraith, "My body yes, but my spirit escaped into the Dream. My inexperience actually served me well, as I stumbled upon a great ally by accident that one with experience may have overlooked easily..."

A foot rose up and suddenly kicked the druid squarely in the stomach. He lurched back in mild shock, wind knocked out of him. Shandaris, eyes clear and wide, glared in his direction. Breaking her gaze for a moment, she reached towards a discarded sword lying nearby and gripped it in her now invigorated hand.

"Kill her!" Staghelm bellowed out.

Shandaris immediately leapt to her feet, ready to defend herself as best she could from the inevitable spider reinforcements that would surely stream through the door to aid their master. Much to her surprise, and delight, his calls went unanswered. Some unseen force was sapping the druid's powers, depriving him of his defenses. She assumed it was probably the same thing that had caused the enzymes in her system to dissipate. Staghelm's eyes nervously darted about the room for a moment. He then felt a calm wash over him, causing his lips to crease into a slight smile.

"You seem confident for a man who is about to die," Shandaris observed, sword at the ready as she slowly approached the druid.

"Yess...," His voice hissed as he took a step back, "Quite confident..."

A feeling deep within her gut told her to be careful, which caused her to halt her advance. Shandaris watched as Staghelm stumbled back, hands clutched on either side of his bowed head. Her eyes widened as she watched his purple fingers darken and seemingly melt into one another, then elongate and stretch skyward like a flowing ebony liquid. His head, still facing downwards, began to change as well. His hair began to slip beneath a blackish shell which seemed to now be encasing his head. As the last remnants of his scalp changed, he bent his head upwards and stared at Shandaris with 8 dark eyes.

"By the goddess, he can still shapeshift!" She said, the surprise all too apparent in her voice.

The druid lurched forward as his transformation finished, his body now supported by eight spindly legs. The tattered remains of his robe fell to the ground, no longer able to contain his now larger bulk and inhuman body shape.

"I'll enjoy sucking you dry," The spider said, it's voice a sickening gurgle.

A sudden volley of silk tethered itself to her ankle. With a quick and painful tug, Shandaris fell roughly upon her back. It had been so fast she barely had time to even register what had just happened. Her warrior instincts kicked in, and she brought blade up as if to deflect a blow, just in time to block the two venom dripping fangs that now rested upon the sword. He had brought her down, covered the distance between them, and tried to land a killing blow in a mere second. Shandaris felt her heart pump more rapidly, supplying more blood to her straining muscles and now very active brain. Her senses began to sharpen and focus as she attempted to improve her chances against so quick a foe.

"Impressive," The spider complimented. A single drop of venom fell from his fangs and onto Shandaris' bare skin. She winced with pain as the potent venom literally burned into her flesh.

"I apologize in advance...this will be very unpleasant," The shape shifted druid said to the girl pinned beneath his massive bulk. Gathering a thick and wet sheet of silk from his abdomen, the spider lifted the night elf's legs up and swiftly began to spool the webbing around them. Unable to react in time, her legs could only squirm as the cocoon bound them into a single mass. With blistering fast speed, the sticky silk had been wound around her body all the way to her hips. Droplets of sweat began to form on the warrior's brow as her arms began to buckle as his immense strength slowly began to overpower her. The fangs drew closer to her bare chest, slightly twitching in anticipation of the meal that awaited them.

"No!" The spider suddenly cried out. Thick vines and roots, sprouted from the earth, had entwined themselves around a few of his legs. Like snakes they slithered up his body, consolidating their hold on him. More of the entangling things were sprouting, joining the others as they began to encircle and constrict his body. He began to thrash his body in an attempt to throw off the choking vegetation. A long vine, noose like, looped around his neck and pulled back. Shandaris felt the pressure begin to relieve as the spider's fangs were pulled away. Taking advantage of the moment, she pressed her hands against the earth and began to push and wiggle her way backwards to get as much distance as possible between them. Satisfied with her position after she had moved a ways back, she took the sword and began to cut at the bonds that bound her lower body.

"Impossible! You never had such power!," The spider screeched at the sprite darter above.

The voice of Alu'Tra seeped once more into his mind, "You are correct. I do not have such power. But -he- does."

Staghelm grew silent, even as the crushing roots and vines painfully squeezed against his body. Although Alu'Tra had not mentioned the name directly, he knew of whom she spoke. Staghelm's mind continued to try to fathom the fact that -he- had been somehow able to return. That somehow he had been able to escape from the exile Staghelm had worked so long and hard on enacting. Even ass Shandaris' blade sliced through his neck, severing his head, he continued to wonder how what had just transpired was even possible.

Shandaris looked down upon the head of the archdruid, it's shape melting and changing back to that of an elf. The druid's lips continued to slowly move, as if he were speaking to someone, even as the last remnants of the blood in his brain began to drain and pool onto the floor around him. As his skin dulled to a pale white, the movement finally ceased. Shandaris turned around towards the still cocooned and gave her a tired smile. Tyrande responded in kind by widening her eyes in disbelief. An icy chill ran through the elf's spine as she swiftly turned around to see what had caused the priestess such alarm. She felt nausea rise in her throat as some sort of larva crawled from the base of the druid's neck, slick with blood and the remnants of his brain tissue. With a swift arc of her hand, she cut the thing in two, insect blood splattering about as the metal sliced through it's insides.

"His life was a great tragedy, but now it is over..." A familiar voice spoke behind the elf.

Shandaris stood surprised, a great joy now welling up inside her, "Furion?"

She turned around and found herself facing the true Archdruid, Malfurion Stormrage. Or at least something that looked like him. To her surprise, the druid appeared before her as an apparition of sorts. Summoning her courage, she reached out with her left hand to touch him and found it passed through him as easily as the air around them.

"Are you..."

"Dead?" Furion answered, anticipating her question, "No, I am far from it."

Shandaris began to speak, as if to ask him another question, when suddenly her eyes went wide, "By the goddess! Priestess Tyrande!"

Furion nodded his head, then turned to the still cocooned night elf. His glance was all that was required. The silk bindings began to shine with a tremendous light, starting at the cocooned body of Tyrande and radiating outwards to engulf each individual strand that held her suspended. The illumination grew outwards and grew brighter until the whole temple interior was blinded by the light.

"My love?" Tyrande's voice called out from the light.

At last the intense brilliance faded, revealing an unharmed and tearful Tyrande standing on the ground. She ran towards the image of Furion, her cheeks glistening with tears of happiness. Her arms went wide, as if to embrace him, but passed through his ghostly image as if he were not really there. Furion frowned. He knew all too well that being unable to touch the ones you love could be even more painful then the most gruesome wound. Her shoulders began to heave as she sobbed, her joy now mixed with the bitter realization he was not there in the flesh.

"I am sorry, my love," Furion said, "I would love nothing more then to feel your soft embrace once more, but for now this is the best I can do."

The priestess looked up upon his face. She could see he was pained as well by their inability to fully meet. She dipped her head down and wiped away some of her tears on the sleeve of her robe.

"No, don't be sorry. This is a time of joy. We should both be glad that we are even reunited at all. The knowledge that you are alright is all I ever truly needed," She replied, a smile now lighting up her face. Furion stared deep into her almond shaped eyes, now shining brightly. He smiled back.

"Yes, and we have Alu'Tra to thank for it," He smiled, his gaze now turning to the small, unassuming sprite darter that fluttered about silently overhead. It began to descend in a lazy circle, before finally coming to rest on Furion's shoulder. Tyrande gave a curious look, surprised that the small animal was able to touch the druid when she was not.

"Sprite Darters are one of a very few animals that exist as direct conduits between the Dream and the waking world," The voice of Alu'Tra explained inside both Tyrande and Shandaris' heads.

It continued, "As I lay cocooned, being slowly devoured by the young spiders inside me, I focused all my thoughts and energy on entering the Emerald Dream in the manner Malfurion instructed me years ago. To my relief I was successful, but unfortunately my inexperience left me ill prepared to navigate the Dream. It was by pure accident that I stumbled upon Furion and Cenarious, secreted away in the realm between waking and sleeping."

Tyrande nodded at this, "I remember Furion mentioning traveling to that place when we sought to take the demon soul from Deathwing."

The sprite darter fluttered it's wings, "Yes, the very same. Under their guidance, I learned to hone my abilities...abilities such as the one that allows me to use this animal to communicate with you and to serve as a bridge for Furion to appear here as well."

Furion nodded, "There is something dark and sinister afoot in the Dream. My disappearance was meant to be but a single step in a plan that has been slowly unfolding for millennia. There is a great evil here, and I must remain until it is finally vanquished. These recent events are but a glimpse at the kinds of horrors that could fall upon the entire world."

Shandaris turned her gaze to the decapitated head of Staghelm and the dead larva that had emerged from it, "What can you tell us about that?"

Furion mournfully looked in the direction of the fallen druid, "Unknown to Staghelm and even myself, on the day the Silithid slew his son, the archdruid himself was the subject of their treachery. Overcome with grief, he did not notice that he had become infected with some manner of parasite concocted by their dark magics. It burrowed deep within his brain, slowly growing and exerting it's control over him. It devoured his mind as well as his soul, until all that was left was a shell of his former greatness. It might not be incorrect to say that Staghelm died during the War of the Shifting Sands, and the tragic part is he nor anyone else knew it until it was too late."

As he spoke, his image began to grow even more ethereal. The sprite darter, finding it's perch now unstable, once more took to the air.

"I cannot stay much longer," Furion said, urgency in his voice, "I have dealt with the spiders and Staghelm's other abominations throughout the Teldrassil, but now I must return to the Dream to deal with a darker threat...the Old Gods have returned. Know that I..."

He faded from sight, his words as well even as he spoke. The sprite darter fluttered lower until it was level with Tyrande's face..

"He loves you," Alu'Tra finished.

Tyrande closed her eyes, trying to control the sudden sadness she felt sweep over her, "Yes, I know."

"My connection is fading as well," Alu'Tra sighed, "I must return to the Dream. Master Malfurion and Cenarius say I have great potential and will be invaluable in their struggle."

Tyrande opened her eyes, now softened with gratitude, "As you have been invaluable in ours. Be well, sister Alu'Tra."

The strange glow in the animal's eyes began to fade as it's connection with the Dream was severed. Suddenly aware of it's strange new surroundings, the sprite darter gave out an irritated screech before swiftly flying towards the temple gates and out into the open air.

"I'm glad you're ok," Tyrande smiled, now facing Shandaris. She strode towards the nude elf and embraced her lovingly, "I was so scared I would lose you."

Shandaris nestled her head into the crook of Tyrande's neck, "I think for awhile, you did."

Tyrande gently stroked the girl's hair, "Come on, lets get you dressed."

***

"Nozzle 14a, you idiot! Not nozzle 14b!"

The goblin coughed, foul smelling gas clouding the air around him. He gripped the valve for the nozzle and gave it a sharp turn clockwise, cutting off the flow of vapors. His eyes squinted from behind the green tinted glass goggles he wore, trying to make out the illegible writing etched above it.

"It's rubbed off! I can't tell which nozzle is which!" He observed, hoping to absolve himself of any blame in the matter, "If you can't keep things properly marked, don't get mad when things go wrong, Nuzzglink!"

Nuzzglink, the captain of the submarine, frowned, "If time was money, in all the years I've kept you on, Glin, you would have wasted the all the gold in Azeroth!".

Glin, fed up with the poorly designed craft, left the vicinity of the valves and took his seat to adjacent to Nuzzglink. The submarine creaked and moaned, the water pressure outside doing untold damage to the shoddily constructed contraption.

"I swear, Nuzz...some days I think you were raised by gnomes!"

Nuzzglink shot a wicked glare at Glin before returning his attention the myriad of dials and levers before him, "In any case, we're low on air and fuel. We've been down here over four hours collecting all the junk those silly elves have been dumping into the ocean!"

Glin rubbed his thumb against the his left goggle lense, unsuccessfully trying to remove a smudge. His grease soaked digit only seemed to make it worse, "Well, those silly elves have made us a lot of gold this day! I love mass evacuations! They dump all their possessions into the ocean in a desperate attempt to quicken their escape, without any regard for their futures! What good is living if you're broke!"

Nuzzglink began to pull various levers and switches, causing the submarine to groan even more loudly. A loud clanging noise rang out from somewhere in the back. The goblin casually noted that it was probably some part of the engine.

"Speaking of broke, I think it's time we start to surface," Nuzzglink sheepishly added.

Glin was about to agree, when he suddenly saw from the corner of his right eye a bright shimmer through the window of the sub.

"Hey, I saw something bright out there!" Glin excitedly said.

Nuzzglink rolled his eyes, "You sure it's not another smudge on those worthless goggles of yours?"

Glin, annoyed by this, pressed his thick meaty finger against the chin of the captain and pushed it in the direction he saw the shimmering object. The captain's eyes widened, now just noticing the object.

"Hold on," He said, pushing a large bronze lever forward. The entire submarine shook as the engines noisily roared to life, propelling the metal monstrosity through the water. The shimmer began to get brighter as the mysterious object began to loom closer through the viewing window. As they approached, they noticed it had a distinct humanoid shape. As the sub came even closer, distinct female attributes seemed to stand out.

"Hmm, statue?" Nuzzglink asked, briefly throwing the sub into full reverse. The walls and pipes rattled as the contraption came to a full stop.

Glin squinted his eyes, "No, not a statue. Looks like silver, but it has an almost fabric like look to it, like silk."

Nuzzglink's eyes lit up, "A burial shroud! And from the looks of it, the gal was rich! Who could afford to swath a dead sap in such finery?"

Glin considered the theory, "And one who could afford such finery for the shroud would probably have no issues with decorating the stiff with fine jewelry..."

The two goblins looked at each other, sharing a bond that only true greed and avarice could form. Nuzzglink eagerly flipped a switch on the armrest of his chair, which activated a large metal salvage claw towards the front of the sub.

"Great end to the day! I love lucky finds like this!"