Guild Master's Favor

This story was originally written for the Geek Pride event in May 2025.

Thanks to PennyThompson for some initial suggestions and feedback.

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An enormous, dreadful mass of swirling and gnashing bones stood before her, snarling and scoffing, as it flailed its huge claws. The dragon's corpse, reanimated by the kind of necromancy only the vile lord of this frigid domain could wield, lashed out at the armored warrior before it.

The brave hero, though himself but a dwarf, raised his reinforced bulwark of a shield for protection against the beast's icy breath. It chilled him to the very marrow of his bones, so much that even the hot braziers in his home under the mountain wouldn't have soothed his shivers -- but thankfully, he wasn't alone in this hellish fortress where the dragon dwelled.

Beside the unliving abomination, scurrying between its hind legs and careful not to draw its ire, the warrior's band of allies assisted him in any way they could. Arrows flew into the monster's withers, assailing the heartless void that kept it animated in defiance of the laws of nature; as did the great balls of fire, or the focused rays of cleansing moonlight. Even some of the dragon's former allies turned against it, striking it with mighty blows of their runeblades and afflicting it with pestilence that could wear down its bony constitution.

And at the center of this heroic party, Nusla, an adept of shamanistic rites, chanted her serene, restorative songs. The elements always heeded her call, manifesting as a beam of pure sunlight that reached their allies and healed their wounds as it bounced and chained between them. Whoever the beam touched would be encased in a protective bubble and shielded from further injury -- a gift from the Titans, bestowed upon the ornamental scepter that Nusla wielded.

But then the beast bellowed, momentarily disrupting her concentration. It cried in a shrill voice that chilled the bones of her and her allies even more than the biting, frigid air.

"Suffer, mortals, as your pathetic magic BETRAAAAAYS you!"

Yet Nusla stood undeterred, weaving her spells ceaselessly while others around her dispersed. Few yet remained, just as fearless as she was, hacking at the dragon with their axes and stabbing it with their daggers, or even invoking the very same power of the elements to lash it with whips of molten lava, or calling down storms that --

"Wait! Why am I dead?"

It happened in a flash; Nusla didn't even notice. Her lifeless corpse lay on the ground now, surrounded by several of her steadfast allies who had just met the same fate.

"Shit!" a voice came from outside of this world. "Someone didn't run away with the mana debuff again... Alright, whatever! Just wipe it..."

Shifting nervously in the chair, Nusla bit her lip and sighed at the screen before her. She couldn't do anything at this point, only stare at the irritating, all-too-often-seen message hovering over the dead body of her character. She could simply click it off, which would resurrect her outside of that sprawling fortress and force a long, boring trek back inside -- and then into the dragon's lair yet again.

Rather than do this, she looked over to the chat window on her other screen. It was almost empty, save for a single message. It suggested that the blame for her party's failure should be laid squarely at the hooves of her character. That worried her a little; she didn't know whether she herself had done anything wrong.

But the next messages said otherwise, or were simply encouraging Nusla and her team to try again. That reassured her, and she couldn't help but smile. There were only a few hundred people watching her stream right now, but even so, she could count on her chatters to keep the spirits high.

"Alright, guys, I'll go get something to drink!" she said in a chirpy, youthful voice that quickly faded into a lower and sultrier timbre. "Hopefully they'll pick me off the floor before I'm back, eh?"

She rose from her chair, allowing the camera to move down from her perky, plentiful boobs to her flat, half-bared midriff. The top she was wearing only showed a little cleavage, but the swell of those firm globes was prominent and enticing. Then, once she turned around, the viewers were treated to the sight of her large and shapely butt, tightly encased in pink short shorts that, intentionally or not, emphasized its luscious curve.

She skipped away, moving out of the frame. All that the camera was showing now was the blurred background of her room and a swiveling chair that was slowly coming to rest.

"At this rate, it's me who's going to need a drink," said a different voice, possibly a thousand miles away. "Something stronger than coffee, that is..."

Spoken inside a dimly lit room, illuminated mostly by the soft glow of two computer screens, was the voice of Nusla's superior. The sharp-faced, bespectacled brunette named Taylor was the leader of the entire regiment of healers in her guild. She'd been tasked with guiding the ragtag bunch of virtual miracle workers whose job was to keep their guildmates alive.

Her duties were manifold. They included assigning the healers their primary targets; splitting them up however the current encounter required; occasionally making calls for the entire raid to follow; and taking care of the massive amount of other, related minutiae that was required to keep the health bars green and happy. She may not have been perfectly knowledgeable about every single aspect of all healing classes -- priests, shamans, druids, and paladins -- but she had enough experience with the game to provide them with competent leadership and useful insight.

Because it was a game, obviously. It was the kind of game where you created your fantasy character, went on an adventure in a fictional world, and eventually you'd team up with others to try and defeat some truly dangerous enemies. In the endgame, the bosses would test not only your character's power, but also the tactical sense and coordination of all players in your group.

None of those encounters were trivial. That stupid dragon, however, was easily one of the worst. Taylor's guild had gone through dozen of attempts to take it down, making only scant progress and often failing solely because of individual mistakes. As a result, Taylor had already heard the screeching, grating voice of the icy wyrm so many times that whenever it yelled about "the cold hand of death upon her heart!" she could only roll her eyes in exasperation.

In a similar vein, she'd roll her eyes at Nusla and her absolutely abysmal performance.

"Yes, yes, I'm rezzing you," Taylor mumbled under her breath, as she pressed the button that made her paladin resurrect the fallen shaman. "What's the point, though, you're gonna be dead again soon..."

Like all healers in the guild, Nusla, was one of Taylor's charges. When it came to keeping people alive, however, she was lately doing pretty much the exact opposite. Their latest wipe -- the kind of failure where you have to start the encounter from the beginning -- was entirely the fault of the absentminded shaman. She hadn't run away when she was supposed to, which led to multiple other characters dying from the explosion of her vast reservoir of magical power.

It was a simple task. A mark above your head? Then get the hell out! Anyone should be able to do it. All it required was a modicum of focus, and enough sense to take the whole thing seriously.

But at this point, Taylor wasn't sure Nusla possessed either of those qualities.

"Heeeeey! I'm back!" she fluttered, in the same coquettish voice. "Miss me? Look what I've got!"--she brandished a tiny salad bowl--"Ceasar with low-fat dressing but extra chicken! Gotta get those gains in, am I right?"

Okay, perhaps it wasn't just her performance that made Taylor's eyes roll in their sockets.

Returning her gaze to the other screen, the sighing brunette saw that massacre of her teammates had mostly been undone at this point. Everyone was up and alive once again, busy with preparations for their next attempt. They were casting protective spells, drinking conjured water to restore their mana, or eating from a cartoonishly large plate of fish for that extra oomph it would add to their attacks and magic.

"So, once again," a familiar voice sounded in Taylor's headphones, putting a trace of a smile on her lips. "No one in front of the boss other than the tank. Everyone else on one side at the start, then move to the other side when the ice block happens. Rinse and repeat. During the air phase, spread around, pay attention who gets frozen, and then hide behind the blocks to avoid the frost bomb. Any questions?... Alright, ready-check and go."

Short, clear, and to the point. Authoritative. Commanding. Attractive.

If the harsh, raucous cry of that damnable dragon was like sandpaper to Taylor's eardrums, then this voice was the most soothing and pleasant of balms.

"Everyone ready," it said, in its velvety tone. "Dorfin, you can pull."

The rime-covered, undead dragon descended from the cloudy skies once again, touching down on the rampart wrought from a cursed turquoise metal. It turned its malevolent gaze to the dwarven warrior, who taunted it with one of the thousand insults known to his rambunctious kind.

Taylor was just going through the motions now; they had slogged through this phase of the fight countless times. Yet she'd always perk up whenever the raid leader made a call, speaking in the same decisive baritone. Its vibrating resonance would warm her up even if they really were in this frozen, desolate place.

His name -- his real name -- was Jordan. He was a student at the same college that she went to, just a year older, studying finance rather than computer science like her. Though she had surely seen him in passing, as one among the crowd of thousands of students, they weren't at all acquainted until she joined the guild shortly after the game was released.

She learned more about him during her first meeting of guild officers, after she became one herself. The fact that they lived so close to each other, their dormitories separated only by a small park in the middle of the campus, was truly a remarkable coincidence. They met a couple of times for a bubble tea or coffee, which they drank mostly in awkward silence. It felt weird to just talk about the game like they would online, but it'd feel even more weird to try and forcibly steer the conversation in some other, unknown direction.

In hindsight, though, perhaps it was just Taylor who had felt awkward. Jordan certainly didn't seem to, now that she recalled those few hangouts yet again. He was friendly, funny, very much at ease; he had this look in his eyes that the dark-haired girl found captivating.

Oh, and that wavy mane of his strawberry blond hair, as it dropped over his forehead when he tried to suck in his tea through a straw that he didn't know was clogged with a piece of tapioca. She giggled at the memory. It was just so adorable, and --

"Your incursion ends HERE! None shall survive!"

The dragon screeched, knocking them back with a mighty flap of its wings. Shards of frozen snow billowed around it, as the monster took flight and soared into the darkened skies above.

"Air phase!" Taylor heard the assertive voice in her headphones. "Spread out, let people get ice blocks, then fall in and hide!"

She moved as instructed, hanging around the edges of the battlefield. She had a good view of most the area, where she spotted a stranded group of players. They were seemingly too far from the nearest person who was about to be frozen, meaning they'd have nowhere to hide from the incoming area-wide explosion. So they ran over, frantically and recklessly, overshooting just enough to get caught in a deadly wave of icy chill that was released by the freezing bolt.

Nusla was, of course, among the victims of this unfortunate mishap.

"Five dead...?" Jordan's voice sank into a heavy sigh. "Alright, wipe it up."

Taylor sighed, too. She got a feeling it was going to be a long night.

"Oh no! Chat?! What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

A very long night...

***

At the end of the scheduled raid time, the boss was still very much alive -- at least in a way that a fictional, virtual, undead dragon could be. Taylor's guild didn't make much progress overall, hampered by mistakes that only got more frequent as the night dragged on. Jordan called it exactly on the hour, thanking everyone for their attendance, and promptly dropping from the voice call as he had classes to attend early next morning.

Taylor stayed up a little longer, conducting a short debriefing of the healing team. Not much was said there, for almost all of them did a fantastic job rescuing others from unavoidable harm. As for the sole and obvious exception, the problem wasn't even so much with her job as a healer.

No, it went much deeper than that. Nusla exhibited numerous, glaring issues as a player.

"Oh, well, this wasn't too bad, right?" she drawled to her viewers. "I mean, we got to the second phase several times, and our awesome, courageous tank never died! Woohoo!"

Taylor took off the black-rimmed glasses and pinched her nose in frustration. To say she was annoyed by the oblivious girl, with her gratingly bubbly personality and those flopping light-brown pigtails, would be a severe understatement.

It was one thing to encounter an incompetent player in a small group of random strangers, with whom you'd only go through a short, thirty-minute dungeon. It was another thing entirely to try and fit such a player into a tight roster of skilled people who wanted to push the limits of their game knowledge, mechanical aptitude, as well as situational awareness and teamwork.

But the skinny brunette was forced to play with Nusla. Her shaman absolutely had to have a priority spot in their raid.

Why? Because 'guild leadership', as Jordan put it, decided that it must be so.

"Well?" Taylor said with a scoff. "What are you doing, still in the game? Just standing there in the city, with your chat window conveniently hidden..."

Needless to say, Taylor had some suspicions. To try and confirm them, she'd regularly watch Nusla's stream in the hopes of catching a glimpse of even the smallest shreds of evidence.

On some level, the exasperated girl knew it was completely pointless. Even if there really was something questionable about the vivacious streamer, she wouldn't broadcast her misdeeds for the whole world to see. Taylor would rationalize this; she was simply keeping an eye on Nusla, to crosscheck her potentially skewed perception about the bubbly girl's performance in-game.

In reality, she was looking mostly for one thing. She wanted a proof that the shapely girl was getting preferential treatment in the guild because she was exchanging sexual favors.

Okay, Taylor wasn't exactly proud of harboring these suspicions -- but come on! It was obvious that Nusla had to be the kind of girl who exchanged those favors, most likely for money.

She was deliberately flaunting her feminine charms in front of the camera, though of course she'd deny ever having done so. At the same time, she was putting the bare minimum of effort into whatever game she was playing. Anyone who had spent five minutes on the internet knew exactly what was the point here -- to convert the casual viewers of her streams into subscribed, paying fans.

"Okay, guys, that'd be it for today!" Nusla waved at the camera, her powdered-up face all in smiles. She sent out kisses -- first with one, then with both hands -- before ending the stream and transferring her loyal viewers elsewhere.

Taylor suspected Nusla of doing all these obvious things. To her immense frustration, however, the girl couldn't actually find any hard evidence.

She had dug into the girl's streaming profile and followed all the links on her social media; and yet, there was nothing that would directly lead to any sort of adult content.

She had looked at her public photos, all of which were clearly posed and taken quite skillfully, with an obvious intention of cultivating an online persona of a playful and seductive young woman. Some of them were a little racy, showing plenty of skin in a bikini and in clubbing outfits, but it would be a stretch to think of them as meticulously deployed thirst magnets.

Nusla had a page that gathered all her socials, but everything there was pretty much PG-13. The blurbs in all her profiles had an email address posted for 'inquiries' but not much else otherwise.

Taylor was stumped. There was a thought at the back of her mind that perhaps she was misjudging Nusla, that her innocent yet seductive persona wasn't merely an act. But the dark-haired girl simply couldn't believe it. It just didn't make any sense.

"Geez, guess I should log off, too," she finally mumbled, taking a scornful look at the clock. "Good thing the first class tomorrow is at 10 am, huh?"

In truth, though, Taylor didn't really care that much whether Nusla was baring it all for the world to see. And if it weren't for the acute migraine she'd suffer after every raid, then perhaps Taylor could've made herself not care about the inept shaman crapping all over their team effort every fifth attempt.

There was really only one thing that the slender girl truly cared about.

"I think it's high time that I talked to Jordan," she said, a sigh escaping her lips as her head hit the pillow. As she pondered this idea, at the edge between sleep and wakefulness, her lips gradually curled into a wide smile. "Yes, let's do that..."

What Taylor worried about the most was that Nusla might've been exchanging those sexual favors with him.

***

The cafeteria was crowded as always but they managed to snag a small table outside, a fair bit away from most of the hustle and bustle. They put down their trays as Taylor sat on the wooden bench, but Jordan hovered for a second before flashing her an apologetic smile.

"Uh, forgot to grab the napkins," he said. "I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

Watching his denim-clad legs and butt, as he strolled back into the building, Taylor couldn't help but to let out a wistful sigh. He looked good in them. He probably looked good in everything. Every time she'd see him, Jordan's choice of attire would always be on point.

Still, she knew she shouldn't get too distracted. She had an important matter to discuss. Indirectly, it affected pretty much the entire guild which Jordan lead, even if he might not have realized it yet. And if he did realize it, then it was all the more important that she made her case as soon and as convincingly as possible..

A layperson would probably tell her to chill. After all, it was 'only' a game.

But for Taylor, it was her game. It had always been, going back all the way to her childhood.

She remembered when she was just a little girl, sitting on a bean bag next to her older brother Will; but only after she swore she'd be still and quiet. She watched, starry-eyed, as he would charge at the most fearsome of foes -- from the serpent-like troll god to a massive flaming giant -- and swing at them fiercely with his mighty sword or axe. Dozens of others would follow him, into the fray of an epic battlefield, for loot and glory; and for that heady, exhilarating, indescribably exciting rush when they finally overcame a tough challenge after many dozens of tantalizingly close attempts.

Her brother knew this feeling well. Nowadays, she knew it, too. And although William was a serious adult now, with a wife and two kids, he would always make sure to keep tabs on his little sister and her exploits in the fantasy world that they both shared.

"Sorry about that," Jordan said, as he came back with the napkins and sat across from her. "You didn't have to wait for me to start..."

She glanced at her untouched plate and a slight blush came over her high cheeks.

"That's alright. I do want to talk to you, though."

"Sure thing. Is there anything on your mind?"

The curious, subtly inquisitive way in which he asked this question brought a smile to the girl's lightly touched lips.

"Yes, actually... I... Uhm, well, guess it's best not to walk circles around it," she jabbered nervously, before finally mustering the courage to say, "It's about Nusla."

Jordan's face appeared unfazed, as he dipped his teabag in a styrofoam cup full of hot water.

"What about her?"

"I... I'm very concerned about her performance. It's been, uh, inadequate for many raids now," she spoke, her breathing uneven. "Pretty much since we started progressing heroic mode, it's become more and more obvious that, uh... that she really isn't cut for it."

His eyes were attentive, fixed at the nervous girl. His face remained calm, soft shadows nestling in the corners of his lips. He cocked his head slightly, eyebrows rising just a touch as he said, "What do you mean?"

Taylor's brow furrowed. She didn't like this question. Nusla's shortcomings were obvious, glaring. A raid leader should definitely be aware of them, possibly even more so than Taylor herself. Had he not seen them?

"She's... she's making a lot of mistakes, very simple ones," she said, taking a hasty breath. "Yesterday, for example, I counted at least four times she failed on simple movement stuff, and in one case it caused a wipe..."

He tilted his head slightly backwards, tapping the shallow grove that bisected his stubbly chin. Taylor took another quick breath, as her gaze followed the outline of his jaw before scurrying away and flicking back to her lunch plate.

"Yes, I do remember calling that wipe," he said cautiously. "There was also this other time when Dorfin didn't taunt the boss away from the off-tank and we had a breath on most of the raid..."

Taylor's forehead became even more corrugated. She squinted, looking at Jordan with some confusion.

"Well, yes, we did," she reluctantly concurred. "It wasn't exactly our best night."

He nodded. "We still made some progress, though."

Taylor took another breath. She didn't want to look irritated or impatient, but she also couldn't stop the slow exhale from turning into an audible sigh.

"Isn't this diffusing responsibility? Yes, everyone makes mistakes, even our reliable main tank, but Nusla --"

"Indeed, everyone does," his interruption was like a sharp cut, delivered in a mellow tone and with a charming smile, "which is why I find it odd that you insist on singling out Nusla. Is there any basis for this?"

A gasp left Taylor's throat. "I just told you she wiped --"

"No, that's not what I'm asking, Tay," Jordan cut her off again, still with little to no harsh tone in his voice. "I wanna know whether you can demonstrate that Nusla makes significantly more, and more serious mistakes than others. It shouldn't be too difficult, right? We've got logs, half of the raid is streaming; there's plenty of material to look through."

"Then why didn't you do it?" Taylor blurted out, her frustration getting the better of her. "You are the raid leader."

There was a tiniest chink in the spotless facade of his composure, but it only faltered for a moment. "I had no reason to. So far, she hasn't really stood out from the crowd..."

Taylor let out a wryly amused chuckle that sounded close to a scoff. "Right, that's actually a good point. We gave her the legendary mace, and yet she isn't standing out much at all. What gives?"

In that moment, Jordan's face lost a lot of its hitherto unflappable serenity. He shook his head, a quiet sigh escaping his thin lips. "Please, don't tell me all of this is actually about loot..."

"What? No!" Taylor gasped again. "I never said it was..."

"Seriously, Tay, let's not rehash this argument again," he said, seemingly ignoring her denial. "That mace is much better suited for shamans, because they can heal many more targets at once. I'm sure you know this."

Another sigh escaped the girl's lips, and this one she didn't even try to stop. "Yes, I am aware," she said pointedly, "and this isn't about that, Jordan..."

"Fair enough." His features began to smooth out again. "But either way, if I'm going to make roster or rank changes, then I need to have something more concrete than simply your... impressions."

Taylor felt a moisture gathering under her eyelids. "You don't trust me...?"

"I never said that."

"But you did say that this is just my impression," she said with bitter emphasis. "And even if that was true, wouldn't that count for something? I'm the class lead for all healers! Am I not allowed to enjoy some fucking trust and authority once in a while?"

"Tay, please! Let's try to be objective here..."

She shook her head emphatically. "What is this about, Jordan? Like, really about?"

"Huh?" He regarded her with a mildly disturbed expression. "What do you mean?"

For one, very long second, there was a haze of red-hot tension that distorted the air between them. Jordan's gaze was serious and piercing, and yet remarkably calm; Taylor's lips quivered, as she was desperately trying to hold it. The moisture that gathered under lids was on the verge of coalescing into shiny beads, however, and so she eventually averted her eyes and sighed once again.

"Sorry," she said. "I... I shouldn't..."

Her hand, which rested outstretched on table, felt a sudden warmth that surrounded it in a strong, reassuring grip,

"That's okay. I know you care about this a lot, Tay," he said, squeezing her hand once again before he let go. She looked up and saw him smile, wide eyes peering into hers. "I appreciate it. Really."

Slowly, she nodded. A smile appeared on her face as well. "Sorry for that," she said quietly.

"Don't worry about it. Everyone's a little bit on the edge right now. We've been stuck on this stupid dragon for what, four weeks now? We all want to see this through, if only so we don't have to hear its awful voice again!"

They shared a laugh at this, dispelling some of the lingering tension. The rest of it slowly dissipated as they finished eating their lunch. They ended up talking more about their college classes and life rather than the game, which, surprisingly, didn't feel at all awkward to Taylor.

Eventually, though, Jordan had to excuse himself if he were to get to his next lecture in time. He chivalrously offered to return her tray along with his, which let Taylor remain at the table for a little while longer. She mulled over the conversation they'd just had, and she realized it didn't really address her concerns in the way she'd been hoping for.

Nusla would still remain a core member of their squad.

There was no real answer as to why it should be so.

But perhaps Taylor didn't really need the answer. What she really wanted to know was whether this habitual tease, with those boobs she'd never admit she envied, had been using her obvious feminine wiles on Jordan.

"Was she?" she whispered, and broad smile curled her lips. "Nah..."

Indeed -- if Taylor's intuition was worth anything at all, then that gasp he made, at the suggestion that something might be amiss about him and Nusla, should really say it all. Jordan was surprised, maybe even mildly shocked; but he wasn't greatly offended, or in any way defensive. She came out of the left field at him, and all he did was duck, nothing more.

And he ducked with grace, poise, and all that delicious composure of his... Which, incidentally, was one of the many other reasons why Taylor had to take a minute before leaving.

She needed this short time to calm down. Not only her head, and not even just her heart.

She had to get it under control down there.

***

"You are FOOLS to have come to this place! The icy winds of Northrend will consume your souls!"

Another week, another jaunt through the spiky citadel. Although Taylor's soul wasn't in any danger of getting blown away by the winds, it was slowly becoming more and more weary.

Still, she did appreciate how quickly her guild blasted through the easy parts of the sprawling fortress. The bloodied orc champion fell over without a hitch; the vampire queen didn't give them too much trouble either; and the grotesque plague doctor, whose voice lines clearly referenced one of her favorite animated series, was actually a bit disappointing as to how fast he'd bitten the dust.

But now, here they were again -- before a half-dead, oversized harpy who was screeching at them with the fury of a thousand Karens. A few attempts had already been made, none of them successful. It was quickly established that this week's slightly reshuffled squad was doing about as well as the one before it.

Conversely, it also meant they weren't making much progress at all.

"We need to be faster at breaking the ice blocks," Jordan calmly pointed out a problem. "It almost seems like someone is always frozen in phase two, so we're losing a lot of damage uptime. Alright, ready-check..."

Pull. Wipe. Rinse and repeat.

But Taylor didn't mind the drudgery. It was an inextricable part of the whole raiding experience. Deeper valleys made for higher peaks, as the saying went, and it was apparently such time that they had to traverse the Valley of the Shrieking Dragon.

Besides, even if it was taking too long for the damage guys to figure out how to press their buttons harder, it wasn't like Taylor was bored. She had two, nay, three things to fully occupy the idle parts of her mind.

First was of course Nusla. Taylor still kept a watchful eye on the fumbling shaman, even though her conversation with Jordan sowed a seed of doubt that she might've been a little unfair. But that seed didn't really take root: within several attempts, it was already quite evident that last week hadn't been a fluke. While Nusla learned that she had to run with the mana debuff, for example, she hadn't yet grasped that she needed to run away from people, not just in any random direction.

This particular error ended in another wipe. It also had Taylor's finger hovering less than an inch over the keyboard, ready to send Jordan a triumphant 'I told you so!' private message. In the end she didn't, but the temptation was close to irresistible.

Second distraction was much more welcome. Tonight's raid included a new recruit, a rather competent priest, who was clearly very eager to prove himself during a progression run. Taylor counted no fewer than three instances where he saved someone from certain death with a well-placed shielding spell -- a feat that required foresight not only into boss mechanics, but also into the behavior of your fellow players. When you added to it the fact that this guy wasn't making any embarrassing mistakes, it was no surprise that Taylor was ready to vouch for his admission to the core team.

Finally, there was this last thing... The attentive brunette was always straining her ears, listening carefully for any call that their raid leader would make. She didn't want to miss out on any of them. And she absolutely wanted to follow them all. Whatever Jordan said, Taylor would always listen.

Another hour passed roughly like this. It was shortly after that Steefler finally showed up in the guild chat.

Steefler was their melee class leader. He was also one of the biggest nerds Taylor had ever met, or at least heard from in the voice chat. She could tell that he cared more about the game than his social life and possibly basic hygiene, given the impassioned way in which he could talk for hours about the smallest details of the most obscure of mechanics. Even so -- or, to be honest, precisely because of that -- he was a massive asset for the raid team, and a rightful recipient of the first legendary axe that their guild hoped to assemble.

But the most relevant thing right now was that Steefler needed to be in this raid. Though slim, there was always a chance they might actually down this stupid dragon, which was part of the quest he had to complete in order to lay his Cheetos-dusted fingers upon the famous weapon. Endeavors like these were significant in terms of guild prestige, so no one would seriously question the need to get the guy in.

The problem was, of course, that he needed a free spot in the raid, and they currently didn't have any.

"Okay, we need to replace someone I'm afraid," Jordan said, scouring the list of characters. "Uhm... Corwyn? Would you mind?"

He piqued Taylor's interest immediately, because Corwyn was her new favorite priest.

"Sure, man, I'm grateful I could help as much as I was ab--"

"Wait!" she cut in. "Why him? Steefler's not a healer, so this is just going to skew the balance of the raid..."

"Yes, but we could really use a bit more damage," Jordan said. "Also, if I'm seeing correctly, Corwyn is currently last on the healing meters, so perhaps we won't feel the loss too much..."

A gasp died in Taylor's throat. It was one of those arguments that she absolutely despised. Whenever someone brought raw healing numbers in an attempt to justify any decision to Taylor, he might as well wave a red cape in front of a fighting bull.

Broadly speaking, though, she was correct. Healing was about keeping people alive, which was only loosely correlated with how many health points in total did you restore over the entire fight. To get an accurate measure of someone's performance, you'd have to dig much deeper than just this one, simple number.

"Not too much? I beg to differ," Taylor argued, her voice steadily rising. "No, seriously, lemme just go ahead and object right there! Truth is that no matter what the meters say, Corwyn has done excellent job so far, and I don't want him to go anywhere. But hey, if you really want to pick a healer to replace... Why not someone who has no idea where to go most of the time? Who regularly blows up the raid? Who only looks good on paper because she pointlessly heals people who aren't in any real danger?"

"Huh?... Wait, who are you talking about?"

"Oh, but you know this, don't you?" she sneered, grabbing her mouse with a fury. "You knowperfectly well who I'm talking about!" She sicced the cursor at Nusla. "Here, let me relieve you of this dilemma right away..."

And with that, she clicked the option to remove the shaman from the raid.

Afterwards, it took approximately two seconds for all hell to break loose.

"What?! Chat! Did I just get kicked?... Why? Hello?"

The reaction was overwhelming. There was a massive outpouring of support for Taylor -- through voice chat, though in-game chat, and through every type of private message she could be reached by.

It was abundantly clear that the silent majority in the guild was equally, if not more fed up with Nusla. Harsh words about incompetence and favoritism flew by, and suggestive allusions weren't very far behind. A few hotheads took it all the way to hurling insults at the perky streamer that insinuated a moral turpitude.

For several minutes, everything was in turmoil. Heart racing, as it dawned on her what she might've just done, Taylor threw her headphones on the desk and covered her face with both hands. She was trying not to cry, as various scenarios of the guild she called home failing apart like a house of cards raced through her mind. She felt sick, and she had to take several deep breath to calm the queasiness in her lurching stomach.

She ignored all the messages, be it supportive or condemnatory. But there was one that she really couldn't -- a text message, that had just blipped and flashed on her phone. It came from Jordan.

"Come to officers' lounge #2," she read. It was one of the rooms on their voice chat server.

Welp, there it was -- an invitation to face the music.

Wiping her nose and eyes, just in case, Taylor put the headphones back on her ears and switched rooms with a trembling hand. Before she spoke, she noticed that there were far fewer people there than she'd anticipated. She noted, in particular, the absence of Nusla. There was Jordan, of course, but the only other person besides Taylor was someone she didn't expect at all.

It was Dorfin.

"Hello?" she said shakily. "I'm here..."

"Hey," Jordan responded, which the troubled girl took as a sign to present her case immediately.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything I said, and I shouldn't have kicked Nusla, and oh my god I'm so sorry that --"

"Taylor..."

"-- what I did, it was stupid, and I will totally understand if you decide that I'm not fit for --"

"Taylor!"

She stopped abruptly. She instantly wanted to apologize for talking too much too fast, but realized that'd be her talking even more.

"Taylor, listen," Jordan picked up. His normally composed voice was marred by perceptible distress. "This... this isn't really your fault, and I can't blame you for going off like that. I... I should've dealt with this stuff much sooner and much better, instead of letting it fester like a complete idiot..."

Taylor cocked her ears. "I, uh, I don't understand? Jordan...?"

There was an audible sigh on the other side of the call.

"I know you were... uh, let's call it concerned about Nusla," he said. "No, I don't mean merely the fact that she shouldn't be anywhere near a raiding guild such as ours... Yes, Tay, I knew that. I'm so, so sorry that I had to downplay your perfectly valid arguments last week!"

Taylor felt she was getting dizzy. Jordan knew?

"What? I don't understand..."

Another sigh. "You suspected there was something shady going on, and that Nusla was getting preferential treatment... Well, you were right. I want to explain everything, but I don't know if Dorfin here would like me to go over certain, uh, details..."

"Yeah, man," the other guy finally spoke. "Go for it. I guess it serves me right..."

Taylor knew his rasping and gruff voice, though mostly from the curt orders he'd frequently bark at the other tanks. She never liked it much, but she also never spoke to the guy and didn't really care much for him in general.

"Alright," Jordan picked up. "I suppose I should first mention something about Nusla, and I know it's rich for me say this but she'd really prefer if you could keep it a secret... But regardless, the point is that she isn't just a streamer. She is also a certain kind of... well, a sex worker."

Taylor let out a sound that might've been a surprised gasp -- that is, if she were actually surprised.

"Huh... So, she is, after all? I wasn't really sure myself..."

"Yes, but it's not something she advertises openly. From what I understand, her family is not the type that'd look on her kindly if they ever learned about it, so she keeps it very niche and secret. She does fetish stuff, which I understand is limited to some obscure message boards and the like, not the mainstream platforms... But either way, what's important is that our dear friend Dorfin happens to be one of her customers."

Taylor's eyes were blinking rapidly. "Huh, o-okay..."

"Uhm, yes, I'm sure you're intensely curious what it all has to do with our guild," Jordan said, clearing his throat along the way. "You see, Nusla is trying to target a very particular niche. It so happens that being in a rather successful raiding guild and streaming it to her audience is actually helpful for the purposes her, uh, subtle advertising... So, when our friend approached her and mentioned he's our main tank, she told him that if he could get her to raid with us, then she'd perform her, ahem, services for him free of charge."

Taylor felt a pulsing headache building somewhere around her temples.

"Okay, I'll probably regret asking this, but... what services?"

Jordan gave a drawn-out sigh. "Dorfin...?"

"Go for it, man."

There was a moment of near-silence, during which Taylor could hear a deep breath being taken and held.

"She's a healslut."

Taylor blinked. "Come again?"

"It's a roleplay thing. As in, erotic roleplay," Jordan said, his voice gaining a nervous rasp. "It's the kind of RP where you have dominant tanks and submissive healers, and you enact it while both of you are actually, you know, playing the game as these two roles..."

Eyes going wide, Taylor hung her jaw open and let out an indistinct, wheezing sound. "What the..." She cleared her throat. "Uhm, yeah, okay... I don't wanna kink-shame or anything but fuck, that is weird." A short spell of incredibly awkward silence ensured. "Wait, you didn't do that crap during our raids, right? I sometimes watch her streams and I didn't notice --"

"Uh, yeah... I mean no, we didn't," Dorfin fumbled through an answer. "We keep this stuff strictly to those easy five-man dungeons that you can run through with randoms."

"Mhm," Taylor said, nodding to herself. She couldn't resist thinking that such trivial content was exactly at the level of difficulty that was appropriate for Nusla. At the same time, an experienced player like Dorfin could breeze through it with a figurative one hand on his keyboard -- or, as it seemed to be the case here, with a literal one hand.

"Listen, Tay, I know I shouldn't have allowed her in," Jordan admitted contritely, "and definitely not let her stay for so long, after she clearly showed she's not fit for raiding... Dorfin and I go back many years, though, way before this game, so I felt like I could do him this favor. I was wrong, and I'm really, really sorry." He paused, taking another breath. "Also, I'll... I decided I will step down after this, and won't be a guild master anymore, since I'm pretty sure that's the only way to keep this guild from falling part. But I wanted to tell you everything first, so yeah, here we are..."

Taylor's head was spinning. She had trouble believing it still. After questioning and second-guessing herself so many times, it was difficult to let it sink in that, in the end, she was actually right.

She was right about Nusla and her ineptitude.

She was right about her being unfairly propped up by Jordan.

She was right about sexual favors being exchanged, too, although she never would've fathomed the exact nature of said favors.

But most importantly, she was right that there hadn't been anything going on between Nusla and Jordan. He was turning a blind eye to her failures purely for the sake of their main tank Dorfin. If there was anything that could be pinned on Jordan, it was the willingness to go a little too far in enabling the indulgences of his longtime friend.

Well, that, and some questionable judgment as to what people he considered friends in the first place. Bless his heart, as her grandma would say, for it was a bit too big for his own good.

"Jordan," she finally said, "I appreciate it but... are you sure about this? Stepping down? Really? You built this entire guild from the ground-up, and you've led it successfully for so long! Seriously, why should all of this be undone by stupid bullshit like this? Come on!"

A faint sound of swallowing was heard on the other end. "Thank you, Tay. It really means a lot to me," he spoke, his voice wavering. "I don't know if others can be so understanding, though..."

"I'm sure they will be," she encouraged him. "Believe me, everyone here values your work, as a guild master and as a raid leader. You... you keep this guild going, you keep us going! I... I cannot imagine a world where, come every Tuesday evening, I log in for raid and I don't hear your calm voice telling me that we'll get through this; that we'll overcome every challenge ahead of us; and that, together, we can do it all!"

A breathy gasp came. "You... you really feel this way?"

Taylor couldn't help but smile. "Of course I do, Jordan," she whispered. "I've always had."

For a long moment, a spell of curiously meaningful silence settled between them. It was eventually dispelled by Dorfin, whom she heard clearing his throat and saying, "Uh, alright, whatever you decide, Jay, I'll be on board... Let us know in the other channel, okay?"

There was a chime that indicated he left the voice chat. The two of them were alone now.

"Taylor...?"

"I'm here."

"Once again, I'm really sorry," Jordan said weakly. "After what I've done, making you doubt your judgments and feel like I couldn't trust you -- which I absolutely, totally do! -- I just... I don't know how to make this up to you..."

She gasped. "Jordan, you really don't need to..."

"How about I do it properly?" he alluded. "Apologize for real, not just over this silly voice chat..."

"Oh...? What do you mean?"

There was another airy pause before Jordan asked, "Do you... do you have any plans for Friday evening? This Friday, I mean."

Taylor's smile grew wide enough to push dimples into her rosy cheeks.

"Not at all," she said, as her heart fluttered.

***

They agreed to meet at the place, which was a cozy Italian restaurant a bit outside the campus grounds. Taylor spent more time getting ready than she had anticipated, meaning she was running a little late. Though Jordan reassured her through texts that it wasn't a problem at all, the need to hurry still added to her nervousness.

"Alright, as ready as can be," she said to her reflection. "Gee, I hope I'm not overdressed? We'll see..."

The girl who looked at back her, flashing a narrow smile, exuded both elegance and grace, with just a touch of sensuous zest. Dark hair tied up in a neat bob, a few unruly strand fell playfully upon her fair face and bounced off of her high cheeks.

She covered what few blemishes she had with a judicious use of foundation. She applied only a subtle gloss to her lips, making them just slightly fuller; the reasons behind this restraint she couldn't quite pin down in her mind. She had, however, touched the eyelashes with a prominent mascara, enhancing the look of her lustrous emerald eyes.

Those eyes Taylor considered her most captivating feature, so she swapped glasses for contacts and chose a dress that'd best suit and compliment the shine of her irises. Cut to mid-thigh, the plain olive dress hugged her hips tightly, highlighting the cinched sides of her waist. It accentuated the swell of her modest breasts and then, going up, the line of fabric narrowed into a sharp triangle that ended around her neck. This left the girl's arms and shoulders bare, permitting an eye-catching play of shadows upon the smooth skin around her clavicles.

Of course, for the short walk from her dormitory Taylor had to also add a woolly cardigan. The weather was pleasant, but infrequent gusts of chilly wind could always be expected in the evening. It wasn't cold now, though, so she left it unbuttoned.

"Well, here we are," she spoke under her breath, clutching the band of a handbag she'd slung over her shoulder. She pushed the door open. waking up the chimes and dispersing their dulcet jingle across the small restaurant. Then, she walked in.

She found him immediately. He was calling to her with a raised hand, smiling brightly when she waved back. He was already at a small rustic table in the corner but stood up as she approached, regarding her with a sparkle in his eyes as he followed her careful steps.

"Hey," he said when she got closer. "I'm happy you could come. Also... wow! You look amazing."

Jordan's gaze swept Taylor's slinky form, her cheeks warming up as she felt it roam over its concave curves and swells. She gave him a timid smile, the tip of her tongue momentarily appearing between her pursed lips.

"Thank you," she said. "I dig yours, too."

She allowed herself to look him up and down again, noting how the elegant white shirt fit snuggly over his wide shoulders. The row of buttons was impeccably fastened, leading down to his waist, where a black leather belt held up a pair of dark cotton dress pants. There was a moment when Taylor's gaze lingered just below it, as her tongue stuck to the dry palate, before she glanced down to his Oxford shoes and then back up to look at his smiling face.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering her a seat. She took off the thin sweater and draped it over the back of an empty chair nearby, catching another glimpse of his glinting eyes as they flitted over her exposed arms.

He sat down across the table, squeezing into a solid chair with a heavy-wrought metal frame. They both took a moment to appreciate the charming decor of the trattoria, with its hardwood floors, and garlands of dried garlic hanging over the stone arch that must've led to the kitchen. A distinct aroma of traditional herbs wafted from there and spread about the place, carried by the slow piano notes pouring from the few speakers that were affixed under the marbled plaster ceiling.

Jordan was about to say something, but he was interrupted by the arrival of the waiter. An older fellow, dressed in a black-and-white striped vest, smiled from under his bushy mustache as he lit the half-melted candle sitting next to the condiments on their table. He handed them the menus, nodded at their refusal to order wine since Taylor was a few months shy of twenty-one, and took his leave with a slight bow.

As the man walked away, Taylor couldn't help but grin at his immaculate manners. She decided she probably wasn't overdressed after all, and the thought made her shift and fidget in the comfortably cushioned chair.

"I had no idea we've got such a nice place so close to the campus," she said. "Have you been here before...?"

"A handful of times," he answered, but did not volunteer any more details. Taylor decided she'd leave it at that.

Shortly after the waiter took their orders -- a medium-sized carbonara for Jordan, of which they agreed he'd share a few slices to complement Taylor's salad of chicken, dried tomatoes and olives. They watched him push the garlic curtain away and disappear into the shaded passage before the young man turned to his companion with a serious expression on his face.

"Taylor, I wish to say that I'm really, really sorry," he began, rising his hand when she instinctively tried to hush him. "I did not have my priorities straight at all. I let the guild down and, to my biggest regret, I let you down, Tay..."

Resisting the urge to jump in and reassure him, the girl instead straightened up and gave him a meaningful nod. "I appreciate it," she said, allowing her lips to curl into a warm smile. "It's not like I've been totally innocent here either. I don't think I would be so -- motivated to oust Nusla if I didn't suspect she was getting favors in the guild because she was using her, uh, charms..."

Taylor stopped short of saying that she specifically minded the other girl using her charms on Jordan.

To this, he gave a soft chuckle. "Yes, she does seem to give off that vibe," he admitted. "On the other hand, I don't think she'd do it just to get some guild to carry her through the game. It's all about building that online presence for her, which I assume she does to become financially independent from her family as soon as possible."

Nodding, Taylor let out a quiet sigh. Her attitude towards the Nusla had gone through ebbs and flows, but she didn't feel like holding a grudge at this point would do anyone any good.

"In the end," Jordan continued, "I don't think she cared about the game at all. She just thanked everyone and left, and didn't want to talk when I offered. It seems that she moved on very quickly"

That was certainly true. The last time Taylor saw Nusla's stream, she was about an hour into creating a new character in that other game, with sultry and playful catgirls and the tall, bunny-eared stunners.

"I say we should put this behind us," Taylor suggested, looking for something to toast with but, to her amusement, finding only the tall glasses of water that came with the table. "To the future...?" She raised hers. "With fewer mistakes, and more victories over angrily screeching dragons!"

Jordan burst out laughing, so mirthfully that he garnered a few odd looks from the other guests in the quiet restaurant. They clinked their glasses and exchanged long glances, before tipping them over and taking ceremonial sips.

"Well, come to think of it, maybe she has it right," Jordan mused. "Just look at us. We're here, in this very nice place, having dinner together on Friday evening, and apparently there is only one thing we're able to talk about..."

She chuckled. "Such nerds!"

"Exactly," he concurred, and they both laughed.

Their orders came shortly, and for a while they were busy divvying up the deliciously smelling pizza. Taylor took her two slices and Jordan attacked the rest, stabbing it with a decoratively embossed fork and slicing it with a menacingly serrated knife.

Between the bites, their conversation flowed smoothly. Taylor once again found herself following the contours of Jordan's face as he spoke -- and, honestly, even as he chewed. She would sometimes notice him cast a few interesting glances as well.

As the evening went on, similar things seemed to occur more and more frequently. Whenever his gaze momentarily fell below her neck, the girl felt her heart quicken, a comfortable warmth starting to grow deep in her center. At this point they had long since finished with their meal, but it was clear neither wanted to part ways anytime soon. Jordan proposed they should take a walk around the campus grounds, but it didn't take much guessing that he'd rather do it with a specific destination in mind.

Taylor guessed that, as she looked at him with a coy smile. She'd rather do that, too.

"It feels a little chilly," he remarked, as they stepped outside the restaurant and stood under the awning. "And your sweater looks pretty thin... Would you like my jacket?"

"I'll be fine," she said. "We aren't going very far, are we?"

"Not-not if you don't want to," he gave the answer, carried on a surprised breath.

Their hands came together, fingers intertwined, holding each other tight. Their bodies came closer, step by step, until his firm chest pressed into the softness of hers. She couldn't see her eyes shine with a lustrous gleam but he could; and until she closed them he drank this beautiful sight, as he put his hand on her shoulder and, very slowly, leaned in.

Their lips met. It was timid, at first -- but within seconds their kiss grew in heated, passionate intensity. It was a jolt that when through both of them, an electric surge, which she felt traveling down her spine and trailing goosebumps as it went through. More waves like this followed; they settled below her stomach as a rising, invigorating warmth that threatened to ignite the kindling of her desire into a mighty flame.

And Taylor couldn't wait.

Still kissing him hotly, she threw her arms around Jordan's neck, as he felt his tongue tapping at her threshold. He was asking, imploring, then demanding to be let in; and she allowed it gladly, giving a contented hum. His hand trailed down the smooth expanse of her dress, down to the small of her back -- lingering there, but only for a few moments. It dropped further, his fingers tracing the curve of her perky bottom; and, with just a little hesitation, the bold hand gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Oh?" she let out, the small gasp leaving her throat and getting caught in his. "Is that...?"

He whispered, "I don't know..." He squeezed again.

"Mmm," she let out another purr, breaking the kiss and looking into his eyes. She saw a glint in them, of rapt awe and undeniable lust, whose other manifestation was starting to press firmly into her stomach. "I think it is..."

"Seems like it..."

She giggled. "Well then, this isn't the place for that kind of thing, is it?"

"Probably not," he said with a chuckle. "But mine is."

"And it's not very far...?"

He smiled. "No, it isn't."

"Perfect," she all but purred again. "Well -- shall we...?"

***

They hardly spoke during the short walk. It wasn't necessary. But they held hands, even tighter than before. Now that Taylor had him, she didn't want to let him go.

"Elevator?" he asked, once they arrived in his dorm. "It's third floor."

"Stairs," she said with a smirk. "And I'm walking first."

Their ascent was a teasing game for Taylor, as she relished in his constant attention. Jordan's desire for her was palpable; it was a new and exhilarating sensation for the girl, as she savored his gaze that was practically fixed at her swaying derriere. Every now and again she would add a little flourish to her steps, and she knew that he noticed it every single time.

"Where now?" she asked, as they exited the stairwell. But her date didn't respond, he simply wrapped his hand around her waist and led her through the hallway.

They arrived at his quarters and he invited her in, flicking the light switch and closing the door behind them. She recognized the decor and arrangement -- her accommodations were pretty much identical -- and so she paid them no mind. Rather, she turned around to face Jordan, who came and swept her into his arms, again joining his lips with hers.

Taylor melted into him, the heat inside her now stoked into a fierce, roaring fire. He touched her everywhere now, and much more assertively: both hands groping her luscious butt, or one sneaking between their slowly grinding bodies and cupping the perky mounds of her breasts. She responded with breathy moans and her own hands growing bolder, as she let them trace the lines of muscle on his upper back, and even drop down to give that shapely ass of his a very generous squeeze.

Nothing was said as they moved to the bedroom, only a few breathy gasps between them and more than one teasing giggle from Taylor. Eventually, as he turned the lights on both nightstands with a wall switch, Jordan turned to his gorgeous date and smiled.

"So," he began.

"Ah, yes," she said back, grinning playfully. "What now? What's the call, mister raid leader?"

He gave a very amused chuckle. "Very well. I think the dress has to go."

She gasped in mock exasperation, even as she was already taking it off. "You think? Oh my, I expected a rather more decisive call..."

"The dress," he repeated firmly, "and everything else."

"Mmm, much better..."

She took care of the few buttons on her back and the olive garment soon dropped to the floor. Underneath, Taylor had worn a black set of unadorned lingerie, plain but quite skimpy, comprising little more than four triangles of fabric connected by narrow elastic bands. In the dim light of the room, the contrast between it and her fair skin wasn't striking, but Jordan was captivated by her casually seductive look.

"Am I doing it right?" she asked coquettishly, already having read the answer in his shamelessly staring eyes. "It looks like no one else is following the call..."

Hint well taken, he smirked and started unbuttoning his white shirt. As it took him only a minute, Taylor was soon treated to the sight of his naked chest. Fit, though not exactly buff, it had a wispy line of hair running down the middle that the girl's eyes latched into and followed all the way down to his waist.

"Is it more clear now?" he asked teasingly, as Taylor continued undressing before his hungry eyes.

She turned around and unhooked the bra, tossing it away, but then she paused, suddenly apprehensive. She had always been self-conscious about her smallish breasts and wasn't sure if Jordan was going to like them. She heard the rustling of the carpet as he approached her, before the smell of his cologne enveloped her along with his arms.

"Here, let me help you," he said, as he hooked fingers under the band of her panties and started sliding them down as he knelt. She shivered as she felt them scrape her thighs and calves, and let out a surprised gasp when he placed a quick kiss on her butt cheeks on the way up. "You're beautiful, you know that?"

He kissed her neck and gently swatted the hands that covered her ample bosom. He cupped it himself, making Taylor give out a lustful moan as he brushed her nipples and dug into her flesh with his fingers. He let her go and told her to turn around, and she let out another gasp when she discovered that all his clothes were already piled up on the floor.

"Oh, wow," escaped her lips, as she noticed his jutting shaft.

"Wow is right," he said, looking down her fully naked body. "You're so sexy, Tay..."

A blush came over her cheeks, as they shared another kiss. This one didn't last long, though, because Jordan took her hand and led her to lay down on the bed. She did, spreading her legs a little, when she noticed Jordan crouch and open the drawer to get something from the nightstand.

"I'm... I'm on the pill," she said quietly.

"Really?"

She nodded. "Got on it... when you invited me," she admitted, "since I... I don't need it otherwise..."

He grinned from ear to ear. "Innocent and naughty," he remarked, tossing the condom back inside and closing the drawer. "That's great, because it's been a long time for me as well."

"Yeah, seems like neither of us goes out very much," she quipped, and they both chuckled.

"Alright," Jordan then said, as he stood up and carefully climbed on the bed. Before long he hovered above Taylor, his face a picture of adoring attention. He kissed her again, with gentleness but also with passionate lust, his hardness poking at her entrance and finding it delightfully hot and steamy. "You're wet."

"Uh, yeah..."

His smaller head brushed her softly throbbing labia, making her bite her lip in anticipation. Seeing Taylor's cute nervousness, her partner allowed himself his own flight of whimsy, "Well, then... Last ready-check?"

She tittered. "Yup, ready!"

And so he pushed in, slowly nestling his rigid manhood inside her warm tunnel and filling her with his solid thickness. Her breath hitched at his gentle but decisive entrance: long awaited and fully expected, and yet the tiniest bit surprising. She felt herself opening up, readily accommodating the very welcome intruder, fitting around it like a glove, as it reached deep into the girl's yearning core.

"How do you feel?" he asked tenderly. "Okay so far?"

"Yes," she whispered, nodding and smiling. "Much more than okay..."

Jordan smiled back, shifting his body to get in a more comfortable position. Taylor could feel his weight moving above her, at times pressing upon her, pushing her into the soft mattress. The heat of his body surrounded her, bit by bit, as did the fading but still perceptible scent of his cologne. She felt her arousal surging, and she couldn't wait for her lover to finally begin the primal, rhythmic dance.

A few heartbeats later, he did. Slowly at first, he retracted and pushed again his rigid pillar; it wrought a breathy moan when he sheathed it for a brief moment. He did it again, and again, and the girl had to catch a few of her frantic breaths before she got used to his tender rhythm. She bit her lip and their eyes locked in, peering into each other and speaking wordlessly among the slides and undulations of their conjoined bodies.

"Ooh," she let out, as a wave of pleasant heat spread through her body. "Mmm..."

Their passion grew. Soon, the young man increased the pace of his thrusts, driving his rod more quickly, with low grunts, and with less finesse and much more of his keen, base instincts. But it didn't vex her, and in fact it was very welcome, for Taylor's wet glove was more than ready to accept this new tempo. With each stroke, she could feel the linen sheets move under the delicate skin on her back, scooping up the tiny beads of sweat that gathered there as the result of their shared heat.

"Oh, yes," she quietly moaned. "Ahh..."

Taylor was starting to lose herself in these pleasant moments. Every time Jordan reached the furthest spot inside her, her head sunk even deeper into the soft pillow it lay on. It soon overtook the whole periphery of her vision, forcing her to look straight at her lover. She held his gaze, but it was getting more and more intense, as did the electric, carnal sensations emanating from her sleek chamber.

Eventually, she had to close her eyes, overwhelmed by his lust and passion. It was so unlike his typical composure, and she found that so heady and exciting. Without looking she arched her neck, throwing her head back as she gasped and yelped in pleasure. Their coupling continued, and Taylor could sense the signs of something big looming on the horizon...

"Yes, yes, yes... Oh!" she chanted now, with her arm thrown to the side. "You can... you can go faster... or... I don't know..."

She was getting confused and disoriented by the responses of her own body. Those raw, physical sensations were building up and compounding, like a river behind a dam that hadn't yet toppled it.

Exerting her willpower, Taylor risked opening her eyes; and as she glanced down she saw the rough, strong lines of Jordan's tense muscles that carried him through the rapid, ceaseless, almost blurry motions of his whole body. She saw the coiled whorl of his strawberry blond hair, right below her chin, as she felt his lips caress the skin over the straining tendons of her neck. She let out a breathy, husky, agonizingly lustful moan, feeling as the air around them became charged with static electricity of an imminent lightning bolt.

"Oh, oh, oh... Oooh... I... Jordan, I'm... I... AAAAH!"

It struck then, and her whole body seized. The thunder went through her core, its inexorable force spreading like wildfire to the far corners of her trembling body. She shook and shuddered, and her long, protracted moan broke and trailed into a hoarse and breathy whimper. There was a powerful jolt within her nether regions, which made her pussy quiver around her lover's manhood, as it still glided in and out of her, sped by his undeniable passion.

But Jordan wasn't oblivious to what was happening to the writhing and gasping woman. He momentarily paused his movements, as he watched her with rapt attention: smiling, trying to catch her eyes the very second she'd open them. He didn't miss the mark, for the very first thing Taylor saw when her lids finally parted was his sharp, reassuring, widely grinning face.

"I thought I lost you for a moment," he said coyly. "It looked quite intense..."

In between the breaths she was catching, her throat gave a soft chuckle. "Yeah..."

There was no need for words; they both knew what she'd experienced. They remained still, but only for a few more seconds. Very quickly, she felt him move within her once again, almost as rapidly and frantically as before. Before long it brought her back to the same savage shores, with its crashing waves of pleasure and the distant, looming sight on the horizon of a truly powerful thunderstorm.

"I... I think I'm getting close," he said hoarsely.

"Me too," she whispered, more familiar now with the same feeling of tense but delightful anticipation.

But they kept it on, heartbeat after hastened heartbeat, sharing one more amorous kiss as they inched, ever-closer, to the edge and apex of their pleasure.

Jordan reached it first, and he let out a long, guttural groan; the muscles in his body tensing up as he unleashed his warm essence within his young, nubile lover. Again and again he spurted inside her, and Taylor felt the scalding cream heat up her core even further. Warmth spread around her softly throbbing pussy, as the dense balm filled and coated her insides, and the girl felt an overwhelming surge of emotion that melded with her raw, carnal pleasure.

She came again, and this time she barely twitched. The powerful climax coursed through her whole being, taking away what few breaths she had; but it didn't show on her body. She only gave one, airy gasp, at the end of her lover's release, and then relaxed along with him as their joining came to a gentle close.

"Huh," the young man let out then, before he saw the tender, almost pleading expression on her face. It was a sensitive moment, and rather than speaking he leaned in and once again joined his lips with hers. Their kiss wasn't hungry, and its passion could appear subdued -- but it was the most sensuous, most intimate, and the most meaningful kiss the young couple had shared.

"Mmm," Taylor purred, eyes briefly closed, as her gentle lover rolled away to the side.

"Yeah," he said simply.

"Guess I have no choice now but to accept your apology," she said, giggling. "Almost makes me think it may all have been worth it..."

He gasped. "Almost...?"

She grinned. "Well, I cannot forgive you just yet, can I?" she said, rolling towards him and resting a hand on his chest. "Not after just this one time..."

Amidst another gasp, a grin now appeared on Jordan's face as well. "You mean, you wanna..."

She propped herself up. "Do you...?"

"Absolutely," he said without hesitation. "Tay, you are amazing, and I never would've imagined we could..."

She leaned down and placed a quick kiss on his lips. "Sure we could," she whispered. "Any time... I was just waiting for you to make the call."

***

After the dramatic incident with Nusla, wherein the clumsy and witless shaman felt the kick of Taylor's metaphorical boot, the girl's informal standing in the guild rose tremendously. She quickly became everyone's favorite officer, whom the few dozen 'common folks' on the raiding roster perceived as their fearless and effective advocate before the dishonest powers that be.

Yet, she never aspired to be seen in such a role; and she absolutely didn't want to give off a vibe that she'd question the guild leadership simply as a matter of course. Thus, when Jordan came clean about the affair with Nusla and Dorfin -- absent the lurid details -- and outlined how various decisions in the guild would now be taken in a more transparent way, Taylor didn't hesitate to put all of her newfound clout behind him.

In the end, it was largely thanks to her support that he retained most of the trust in his role as the guild master. Other than a few malcontents who were probably gearing up to leave anyway, the clan survived the ordeal with their core membership pretty much intact.

They certainly had more than enough skilled people to mount a renewed assault on the icy citadel. The following week they did exactly that, running over all other obstacles like a stampede before eventually arriving back in the frosty dragon's lair.

"I expect everyone still remembers what to do," Jordan rallied the team. "Let's give it our best shot, people!"

That was their first wipe of the evening, and a few more then followed. To be fair, they didn't lose much of their coordination, but what progress they were making that night was fraught, uncertain and above all very slow.

... Until that one attempt. It was their third one, as counted from the customary mid-raid break.

Everything went great: on the ground, in the air, and then back on the ground for the final showdown. As the dragon's health dropped, for it was being whittled down by the pressure of their continuing onslaught, it eventually reached a critical threshold. Below twenty percent, the dreadful creature was poised to gain a new set of abilities -- a fact which it didn't hesitate to announce in its typical, shrill voice.

"Now, fear my master's limitless power and DESPAIR!"

From this point on, the battle would only get more and more chaotic. Random people would be frequently encased in impenetrable blocks of ice, rendering them hapless until their teammates could break them free. But doing so diverted the attention of the raid's damage dealers, prolonging the fight and making it more likely that something might go wrong.

Which was exactly what eventually happened.

"Ten percent!" someone yelled in the voice chat.

"Break out the healers!" added another.

Between freeing the frozen targets, running away with mana-exploding curse, hiding at the right time from a different magical curse, and of course avoiding both the dragon's icy breath and its flailing tail that would knock you far away from your allies... Needless to say, Taylor and her team had a whole lot on their plate to deal with, at each and every single second of the fight.

But that was precisely what made the whole thing so exhilarating.

"Nine percent! Keep going!"

They faced unforgiving odds, where every mistake was punished swiftly and harshly.

"Eight percent! Run away with the mark!"

They relied on their skills and experience, developed over countless hours and honed over many attempts.

"Seven percent! Remember, don't let the debuff stack too high..."

They had the trust and support of their teammates, with whom they'd previously overcome seemingly insurmountable challenges.

"Six percent, guys!"

"Don't break this block yet! People still got the curse!"

They followed a capable leader, who knew how to bring out the best in each and every one of them.

"Five percent," Jordan's voice rose over the battlefield. "You're all doing great!"

When all those pieces fell into place, the result was nothing short of sublime.

Taylor had felt it before. She was feeling it right now.

The acute point of total concentration. The razor's edge of a singleminded, zen-like focus.

When all movement slows down, stretching out every breath and every heartbeat.

When everything you see becomes crystal clear, sharp, and vivid.

When your every action is deeply intuitive and completely automatic.

When there is no doubt, no hesitation, for your fingers are already moving before your mind even formulates the thought.

And when it seems like everyone around you is doing the same. The entire group, of more than two dozen people, working together like a well-oiled machine.

"Four percent! Keep pushing!"

It was moments like these that made all the earlier struggles worth it.

And it was also moments like these, that made the pain all the more excruciating when something threw a spanner into those precisely calibrated gears.

"Three percent...!"

"Wait, don't break this block just yet!... No! Everyone still has the curse!"

"Huh...?"

"What about the last mark? Did they run...?"

The answer to that last, panicked question came only a second after it was spoken. A magical explosion obliterated their ranks, killing more than half of the raid which included most of the healing team. It left only Taylor to keep what remained of their group alive -- a task that her class was woefully unequipped to perform.

"Fuck!" she yelled, her brain already working out a new strategy for these dire circumstances. "Use your healthstones, potions, cooldowns -- anything! I need to keep the tank up!"

A thought came unbidden, and she tried to push it to the furthest corner of her mind. How much easier this would've been, if she actually had that legendary mace now?...

"You can do it, guys!" someone shouted from beyond the grave. "Nuke it!"

Everyone who remained was doing what he could, but the dragon's health bar would barely even move anymore. It took almost a minute of frenetic mashing of keys and feverish swipes of Taylor's trusty mouse to knock down just one percent of its health. Her paladin was nearly tapped out, running on vapors from her sizeable reserve of magic, and all she could really afford was to desperately try and keep Dorfin alive.

"Two percent! So close!"

She kept conjuring routine miracles for yet another minute, the dwindling list of targets to heal making it the tiniest bit more manageable. But there was almost no one else left now, other than her and the tank. Everyone else was either dead or frozen, with no hopes for freedom until the deadly encounter was over.

"Oh my god! One percent!"

This was it -- Taylor had nothing more to give. As her last ditch effort, now that she was unable to heal anyone, she started whacking the dragon with her ornamental sword for whatever pitiful damage it would do. Seconds later the warrior succumbed to the frigid oblivion of its breath, and Taylor's paladin was promptly torn to shreds by the sharp talons of its claws.

But not all hope was lost. There was someone else alive yet.

A lowly gnome, diminutive in stature. A rascal and a vagabond; deception and stealth were his everyday trade. Equipped with a dark cloak and a pair of pointy daggers, he doubtlessly cared more for loot and profit than the undying glory of a fearless dragonslayer. But fate had pitted him against this horrendous creature of bone and marrow -- to stand before it, toe to toe, and then fall like the rest of his companions.

But stand he would not, and thus fall he didn't. His reflexes were lightning fast and he used them to the fullest extent possible. Seeing his allies' grisly demise, he entered a nigh-meditative state of total control and composure: for a short time, he would evade every vicious blow from the fiercely agitated dragon. He dodged its rending claws and avoided its sweeping tail, sliding between its crushing limbs and jumping out of the way of its charging horns.

At the same time, he was stabbing the crumbling mass of bones into whichever opening he could find. He spied many, as he exposed the weaknesses of its rattling, skeletal shell, landing blow after blow for as long as his focus lasted. He knew he couldn't hold it for much longer, but all he needed was just one, critical strike into the heartless void of his loathsome foe.

And struck it he did. The final attack found its target, depleting what little vitality the monster still possessed. The dragon shook and trembled, raising its head and crying out for the final time, to rejoice in the freedom it would find in its true death. As its tragic shriek echoed through the terrible fortress, the wicked creature collapsed into a heap of gargantuan bones, now still and unmoving, the baleful aura of vile necromancy dissipating into the wintry air.

The beast was slain. The raid emerged victorious.

"Holy shit! He did it!"

There were cries, shouts, yells, and screams; all of utter joy and triumph. The breaths that they all had been holding were now being released into momentous sighs of blissful relief. The whole party was overtaken by an explosion of exuberance, echoed by the green flood of congratulatory messages that instantly inundated their guild chat.

When the momentary festivities appeared to be calming down, Jordan saw it fit to say, "Excellent job, everyone! And of course special commendation to our amazing rogue. Perhaps it wasn't the cleanest of kills"--he paused to let the laughter die down--"but this was only the first one of many. Next week, we will clip this dragon's wings so fast, it won't even know what hit it! But right now, since this easy fight has just been beaten, we can finally move on to some bigger challenges..."

In her room, Taylor listened to his words with a wide smile on her face. She was happy about their success, of course, but it wasn't just this current victory that pushed the corners of her lips deep into her lush, rosy cheeks.

She was smiling because it was their victory, too -- his and hers. She knew, exactly like Jordan had said, that this would be just the first one of many.

They would face bigger challenges, in game and in life, and she was certain they would overcome them all.

Together.