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Aborted negotiations By Lyrissa "This is an outrage, and no manner of diplomatic overtures is going to change the situation, lady Proudmoore," said Lady Liadrin, leaning back in her chair. The blood elf death knight had a dark expression on her fine features and crossed her arms across her armored breastplate. Jaina Proudmoore, archmage of the Kirin Tor, desperately looked around at the other women attending the conference, but found little to reassure her. "Lady Liadrin, I assure you the expulsion of blood elves from Dalaran was... rash. It was a mistake, made in the wake of Theramore's destruction. We wish to make amends," Jaina said, not sounding entirely sure of herself. To Jaina's right the night elf leader and high priestess of Elune, Tyrande Whisperwind, sat with a calm expression, her silvery eyes darting back and forth between Jaina's exasperated face and Lady Liadrin's gruff demeanor. Opposite to Tyrande, on Jaina's left, sat Ysera the dreamer in night elf form. The leader of the green dragonflight had a somewhat distant expression on her beautiful face but she was not entirely disinterested. Her long ears twitched during the conversation, and she occasionally nodded and considered the words of each speaker. "Lady Liadrin, I am willing to do whatever is necessary to broker a peace between the sin'dorei and the Alliance. We will help you, support you tactically, send humanitarian aid..." Jaina began again. "Oh, that's what it's like now, is it? Now that you have imprisoned, exiled and even slain our people in Dalaran, not to mention abandoning us in our hour of great need. You're only doing this now because king Wrynn has cowed you into trying to feign repentance," Lady Liadrin said with a sneer. "Oh, and what did your people do first? Collaborate with the Horde? Support prince Kael'thas in his mad genocidal plot to open Azeroth to the Burning Legion?" Jaina shouted. "Your blood knights kept a living being chained down in Silvermoon to be used as a battery! Don't pretend you're high and mighty with me!" Tyrande buried her face in her hands. She had no idea why anyone had thought this would be a good idea. She just hoped that none of the troops situated outside the supposedly neutral meeting chamber, hidden inside the damaged Wyrmrest Temple, would not succumb to the same kind of squabbling. "Ladies. Please," Tyrande said, rising to her imposing full height, the pearls in her white dress sparkling in the faint light. "We need to leave the past behind, or else we'll never move forward. There have been grievances on both sides, rash actions and foolish decisions that have caused pain and suffering. I myself and my people are by no means innocent of this. But we need to look behind this now. Our world is threatened, not just from within but form without. The recent war with Garrosh and his loyalist forces was proof that we need unity." Ysera nodded empathically to this, while Jaina sighed and clapped her hands. Lady Liadrin leaned back in her seat, but her fine features unclenched a bit and she looked calmer. A moment later a servant dressed in the elegant red-and-gold tabard of the Wyrmrest defenders entered and Jaina whispered some instructions to him. He quickly darted out again. "I... suppose there is some wisdom to your words, priestess Whisperwind," Liadrin said slowly, considering each word. "My time spent speaking with the prophet of the draenei, Velen, opened my eyes to many things. How our order of blood knights had been corrupted from what we were supposed to be, and how our people had gone astray. But... while I am not entirely against the idea of reunification with our quel'dorei brethren, I do not believe this is something that is possible at this time. There are factions within our society that have a heavily vested interest in maintaining the current status quo." "She means there are people who know they would lose power if the blood and high elves made amends," Ysera said in her breathy, entrancing voice. "Those that would cling to power regardless of what would be good for your people." Her eyes flickered over to Liadrin. The blood elf faltered a bit under that stare, and nodded. "But maybe we could start small," Jaina interjected. "We could start with some discussions about trade and exchanging aid. Working together on some small, non-military projects. There are people of both factions working together for organizations that aren't tied to either Alliance or Horde. We could try to emulate them as a start. Ah, here's the wine." The servant from before entered through the tall, heavy doors into the meeting chamber bearing a large silver plate on which were a few large bottles filled with dark red fluid and a set of four crystal glasses. The servant placed a glass in front of each woman at the large meeting table, and then poured them some of the wine. When he was done, finishing with Jaina, he left the bottles in the center of the table, bowed, and exited. Liadrin swirled her glass thoughtfully, while Ysera took a sip almost immediately. "The finest import wines we could muster," Jaina said. "Of course that is nothing but a gesture, but I believe we can use friendly gestures right now." Liadrin muttered something, but upon seeing Ysera and Tyrande already having drunk from their glasses she shrugged and lifted the glass to her lips. The wine was indeed good, fiery and aromatic, and as the liquid slipped into her throat Liadrin felt a warmth spreading that offset the faint chill of the Dragon Wastes that seeped into even the temple itself. "That may be possible, lady Proudmoore," Liadrin said while sipping. The wine really was good. "But the presentation of such ideas to our rulers would have to be very very carefully presented. The fact that I represent my people here and not one of them should be enough evidence." "Well, that is a good enough start. That is why we have an independent mediator here with us today," Jaina said and nodded towards Ysera while sipping from her glass. "I will do what I can. I am not quite the diplomat my sister is, but I will try," Ysera said airily. "I am willing to do what I can as well," Tyrande said. "I know that our people still have old grievances over our division, but we have been embracing other aspects of our culture recently." "The night elf mages? We know about them. Interesting that a significant group of Highborne still exist in their ... original form and were willing to pledge allegiance to you," Liadrin said thoughtfully, sipping. "They are still our people," Tyrande said warily. "Ah, but you have that whole stigma against arcane magic, priestess. Isn't that why our people split in the first place?" Liadrin said with a smirk. "No," Tyrande said angrily, "we split because your kind opened portals for demons, and-" "Not again. Please! We were getting somewhere!" Jaina shouted. The archmage sighed and grabbed her head, refilling her wine glass and taking a deep gulp. This meeting was harsh on the nerves to say the least. Lady Liadrin huffed and drained her glass, grumbling something about tree-hugging savages, while Tyrande glared at the blood elf and reached for a refill. "Here's what we're going to do. Lady Liadrin, you are going to return to your leaders and talk to them. You are ideally suited for this. Priestess Tyrande, you're going to prepare your sentinels to covertly aid the blood elves in strategic points as we agree. Lady Ysera, your green dragons are a neutral force. You can support the blood elves in their struggles to hold their outlying territories while your healing powers can help them with illness. That should be a good gesture to show that we are willing to reach out to them, isn't it?" Tyrande and Liadrin nodded. Ysera was downing the last of her second glass of wine. "Lady Ysera...?" Jaina repeated. "Wha? Oh yes. Zug zug," Ysera mumbled. The last two words sounded hard and guttural, and Jaina stared at the dragoness in humanoid form. The archmage's eyes darted over to Tyrande and Liadrin to see if they noticed anything, but the two elves seemed more interested in glaring at each other. "Ehm," Jaina began, wondering if she had misheard, "so, anyway. That's settled. We should start drawing up the exact treaties then." Jaina leaned down to open her satchel and retrieved a number of documents and a series of inkwells and quills that she placed on the conference table. Ysera looked a bit sleepy in her chair, while Tyrande was chugging down another glass of wine and Liadrin was looking woozy. Jaina could feel it as well, but she was trying to hold it in desperately. She pushed the inkwells over to the other three and began handing the documents out. As Jaina leaned forward to push the writing implements to the blood elf, she caught Liadrin staring rather intently over at Tyrande as the night elf priestess leaned back to chug down more of the wine. The blood elf paladin's tongue whipped over her lip quickly, but Jaina caught it. "Something the matter, Lady Liadrin?" Jaina asked as she withdrew. "Huh? Wha?" the blood elf said, blinking. "Oh erm, nothing? I'm fine." Jaina kept her eye on Liadrin but nothing more happened right at that moment. Meanwhile Tyrande had put her wine glass down and picked up the documents in front of her. The statuesque night elf priestess looked a bit tipsy now, her eyes unfocused and a slight purple blush on her cheeks. Coughing, she raised the document to her face to read. "We the kal'dorei of Kalimdor hereby swear to aid the sin'dorei of Silvermoon in their strategic retreat from the follow- ehm. What's it say here? Holdings, but then it's... oh wait. Asssschara," Tyrande slurred a bit, suddenly speaking in a much deeper baritone voice, "Felwood, Desscholasche..." Ysera, Liadrin and Jaina were staring at Tyrande as her speech changed. The green dragon aspect stood up, smacking one gauntleted fist into the table. "You're not Tyrande! Imposter!" she yelled. "You're a fine one to talk about imposters!" Liadrin suddenly shouted, standing up so fast her chair flipped over. "What was that I heard you mumble before, lady Ysera? Zug zug?" "Oh, like you're not hiding something!" Tyrande snapped, now suddenly back to her own regal feminine tone of voice. "I saw you ogle me, and lady Proudmoore! What are your real tastes, lady Liadrin?" "Everyone calm down!" Jaina shouted. "We're all worked up right now, but the most important thing is t-" The archmage broke off as suddenly a deep, very unladylike belch issued from her mouth as the wine churned in her belly. The room went stone silent. Each of the delegates stared at the others, their faces pale and nervous. "Oh to the nether with it all," Jaina suddenly said in the deep tone of a man. "We're all imposters, aren't we? Let's just drop the charade." She reached up to her face and reached inside her mouth, fiddling with something none of the others could see. There was a clicking sound, and then Jaina tugged at her cheeks, and to the shock of the other three pulled them wider and wider apart, much further than what was humanly possible. As her lips parted, suddenly a square, stubble-covered chin emerged from within Jaina's mouth. She pulled her distended mouth upwards and backwards, and a whole head emerged from inside as Jaina's features crumpled into an empty mask. A man with slightly spiky brown hair and calm brown eyes emerged from within Jaina's head, his square jaw and slight stubble only adding to his handsome nature. Ysera gasped and clasped both hands over her chest, but Liadrin just shrugged. "Yeah, the jig is definitely up, as you humans say," she said. Liadrin reached up to her head with her mailed hands and repeated the same operation Jaina had. Soon the redheaded blood elf woman's lips were parting to reveal a blonde-haired, blue-eyed male blood elf, his long hair set in a ponytail. He had no facial hair at all and rubbed his chin with Lady Liadrin's hand, thoughtfully. "Come on, you two. We all know you're faking it," he said in a male tone to Tyrande and Ysera, who still looked awkward and reluctant about the whole situation. Tyrande's shoulders slumped. She stood up to her full, imposing height and then repeated the same movement as the human and blood elf had before her. Soon a night elf male's head was resting on top of Tyrande's body, her face an empty mask around his neck. He had the standard silver eyes of his race and long very lushly green hair. "This really isn't how this was supposed to go," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand (which was still Tyrande's). The three revealed males suddenly turned their eyes towards the fourth member of the conclave. Ysera sat there, apparently trying to sink through her chair into the floor of Wyrmrest Temple. She twiddled her armored gauntlets back and forth, plucking at the pointed metal claws. "I'm... I'm really not supposed to..." she stammered. "Oh come on. We all showed you ours, now show us yours," the man in the Jaina disguise said with a shrug. Ysera sighed deeply and stood up as well. Somewhat awkwardly she unmasked, having some issues with the bulky horns of her mask. Beneath the visage of the green dragon matriarch was an orc male with strong features, stubby tusks and messy black hair. "Happy now?" he said with a sulking voice. "I can't believe it," the man inside Jaina said, rubbing his eyes with the back of Jaina's hand. "We're -all- imposters? What are the odds of that?" "Pretty low, I'd say," said the blood elf inside Liadrin with a nonchalant shrug, sitting back down. "The real question is why the archmage of Theramore didn't feel it was worthy of her time to be her herself." The replacement for Jaina scowled angrily at the blood elf. The remaining three members sat down again. "Lady Proudmoore is... I don't know how to say this..." the human man said with great reluctance. "Look, this wasn't supposed to come out, but since we're all exposed to each other we have sort of a pact not to talk, right?" The other three nodded and by the looks on their faces they were quite sincere about not wanting this to become public knowledge. "My name is Adahn. Following the destruction of Theramore, Lady Proudmoore was... rather distraught. She saw everything she'd worked for be destroyed. So she retired." "Retired?" the blood elf man said in stark surprise. "Lady Proudmoore?" the night elf gasped. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Everyone tried to get her to change her mind, but she insisted she was done. She didn't want to continue the cycle of violence she felt caught in ever since her infamous adventure with Prince Arthas. So she retired quietly to a farm in great secrecy. I cannot tell you where it is, because even I don't know." "Jaina Proudmoore... a farmer..." the orc said, almost not believing his own words. "But of course Jaina Proudmoore is important to the Alliance. She is a symbol but also someone all-important to keep the Kirin Tor running. So a secret plan was devised to keep lady Proudmoore around, using a series of doubles. There are a few of us, each selected for our skills and cunning. We are diplomats and negotiators, mostly, though some are called on to fill Jaina's role when great magical skill is necessary." The other three looked stunned as Adahn finished his tale. "That's eerily familiar," said the night elf wearing Tyrande Whisperwind's body. "Priestess Whisperwind has not been seen for many thousands of years. We do not know what happened to her, only Malfurion Stormrage does. He simply claims she will return one day, but she cannot at present. It was decided that rather than admit that our legendary leader was lost to us we would find a way to replace her until she could return." "Wait... you mean you have been Tyrande for... centuries? Millennia?" the orc wearing Ysera gasped. "Not me personally, but a succession of us," said the night elf. "You may call me Tamar, I am the latest in the long line of servants maintaining the sacred position of High Priestess Whisperwind." "Well, that's a little bit fancier than my situation" said the orc wearing Ysera's form. "The Dreamer is busy revitalizing several corrupted areas on Azeroth, and cannot leave that task until it is done. I'm Morag, just one of her faithful servants." The blood elf sniggered. "A mage, right? Yeah, I've heard the dragonflights all attract mortals to do their bidding," he said with a shrug. "As for me, lady Liadrin is out on maneuvers right now on the eastern front. She could not catch a transport back in time so she sent me instead. I must admit I was really looking forward to being in a room with three of the most beautiful females of Azeroth. I guess that dream got busted. I'm Sandoval Sunblaze." Tamar wrinkled his nose. "Your words and demeanor seem unworthy of this honor." "Oh please. I'm one of the lady's best blood knights. She knows she can trust me." "Alright, alright," Adahn said, motioning for quiet. "We all know each other's secrets now. This is a bit awkward for all of us, but I think the only correct course is to resume the negotiations. We each owe that to our people and those who count on us." With that, Adahn reached up to pull the floppy mask of Jaina from around his neck and slowly tug it upwards to engulf his head. Tamar and Morag did the same with their masks as soon the three were again disguised as Jaina, Tyrande and Ysera. The three adjusted their outfits to get rid of wrinkles when Adahn noticed that Sandoval wasn't putting his mask on. "Sir, you really should get dressed again. We need to continue our work, and-" Sandoval sauntered to his feet. He walked around the table with light steps, despite his body still being that of the fully armored Liadrin. He walked up close to the Jaina-suited Adahn, smiling broadly. She could smell the stench of wine on his breath. "Why? We all know each other's secret now. Our most intimate secrets have been laid bare. So why not," he said as he leaned in and planted a kiss on Adahn/Jaina's cheek, "have some fun while we can?" "That is highly inappropriate," Tamar/Tyrande said, standing up. "While we may not truly be the leaders we are dressed as, while we are dressed as such we should show each other the same level of respect we would towards th-" "Oh come -on-!" Sandoval said, walking over the night elf. "I know you kal'dorei are stiff, but really? You don't find the fact that we're four guys all dressed up in disguises of four important female leaders to be pretty sexy? Did you have your manhood amputated for the part?" The blood elf's armored hand darted in between 'Tyrande's' legs before she could stop him. He felt around a bit, grinning. "You know you want to let it out. You all do. Come on, we're locked in a room, we have an endless supply of great wine... why would we sit down and continue some boring diplomatic exercise? We already decided everything important, now it's just formalities!" "Because," Adahn/Jaina started "there are many points to go over and we really should get- what are you doing?" Blushing, the Jaina imposter stared over at Morag/Ysera, who was now standing up and slowly undressing, discarding clattering armor pieces and garments onto the table. "He's right. I'm so tired of being cooped up in here and staring at you three be all stiff and proper. You don't like it? Call the guards!" Sandoval grinned widely as Morag revealed Ysera's shapely, pert breasts to the chill air, squeezing them together playfully towards Adahn and Tamar. "This... is really not..." Tamar stammered. Before she could continue the blood elf was behind her. Despite the extra height of the night elf, one roving hand reached around and cupped Tyrande's firm breast through her beautiful white gown, while the other hand darted back into her crotch, feeling around underneath the dress. "Wait, you can't just-" Adahn began, but was cut off by the orc Morag walking up, now naked but still inside Ysera's skin. The night elf form of Ysera was radiantly beautiful, topped off by the large ornate horns that indicated her true dragon nature. Before Adahn could react, the naked purple-skinned woman had pulled the false Jaina into an embrace, their naked breasts rubbing together. Then 'Ysera' planted a fiery kiss on 'Jaina's' lips and they both felt an electric current of passion pass through them. "Oh... well. Maybe a little pause in the negotiations won't hurt?" Adahn/Jaina said, leaning in for another kiss. *** What started as harmless flirting quickly escalated during the following hour. At first the four did some slight touching, enjoying feeling up the beautiful female bodies each wore without fear of repercussions. They each tried kissing each other with or without masks. Adahn kissing Liadrin, Morag kissing Tyrande, Tamar kissing Jaina, Sandoval kissing Ysera... They quickly established that some were more comfortable and some less. Adahn and Tamar seemed a lot more relaxed when wearing the disguises of their female roles, rather than when unmasked. Sandoval, by contrast, seemed almost uneasy when someone kissed him when he was fully disguised as Liadrin. He appeared to have a rather broad macho stroke and was a bit of a womanizer, given his increasingly lewd comments to the others. Morag was something of an in-between, seeming to enjoy kissing as his orc self and being kissed as Ysera equally. Kissing was just the beginning, however. After ordering more wine (which Adahn accepted at the door, fully disguised, while the others hid), they soon found their explorations become bolder. To match Morag, soon the false Tyrande, Jaina and Liadrin were also naked, their clothing discarded in a messy, wine-stained pile on the conference table. The kissing was complimented with heavy patting, with the four exploring each other's womanhoods with great zeal. Sandoval quickly broke the trend again, however, as he reached deep inside Liadrin's well-trimmed vagina and opened a hidden catch, pulling out a large, erect blood elf manhood. Grinning, he stroked his member gently as he kept feeling up Jaina, making Adahn wonder just how far the blood elf wanted to go. Soon, however, more wine and more dirty talk made inhibitions lift from the others. Only a little later, the once-proud delegates were sitting on two benches they had pulled together to the side of the table. Each one sat broad- legged and groaning, their masks pulled down over their heads. All four had their manhoods pulled out between the female folds of their suits, and they were now busy helping each other get off. Morag and Tamar were jerking each other off, while Adahn and Sandoval did the same favor for each other. All of them were joking and jibing each other for behaving this way when they had an important conference to run, and occasionally a wandering hand traveled to a plump breast and massaged it as their other hand pumped up and down on an erect penis. Soon the four came releasing spurts of hot ropy cum all over each other and squirting it across the conference table as well, staining their regal clothes and documents and not caring about it. A bit later, Sandoval and Adahn were sitting next to each other on one of the benches, still unmasked and with their manhoods out. In front of them, on top of a small stage made from a few smaller tables pulled together, Ysera and Tyrande danced enticingly, both naked but fully suited. Their purple, sweaty forms gyrated in the cool air as they danced together, rubbing their slick skin against one another. Now and then they slipped close together and embraced, their naked breasts rubbing together as they kissed deeply. Sandoval and Adahn grunted as they worked their shafts, trying to keep some semblance of control while they watched the show. After that, there was a period of calm. The four were all sitting unmasked on the benches and sipping their wine, talking about personal experiences and past exploits. They shared ideas about life and the world, and about their duties to their patrons. They speculated about their futures, and the future of the Alliance and Horde. Adahn almost became melancholy, but his over-inebriated comrades quickly cheered him up with some bawdy humor. As their discussion became more and more vulgar, it became obvious that the four wouldn't leave this room until they had truly tested each other out. Tamar and Morag began chatting more and more intimately, both men having their inhibitions lowered significantly by the large amount of wine. Soon they were kissing without either having their mask on, and after that Morag helped the night elf down onto the floor. Still wearing Tyrande's form, cum-stained and sweaty, Tamar's stiff meat was dangling out through Tyrande's folds. Morag grinned and mumbled some sweet nothings as the night elf went down on all fours. The fingers of Ysera slipped into Tamar/Tyrande's butt, gently stroking and tugging to stimulate the orifice into being receptacle. Tamar groaned in pleasure at the teasing, and then grunted as Morag plunged his green, thick manhood deep into his rump, starting to pump back and forth. Watching the halfway-masked night elf and orc go at it stimulated Adahn and Sandoval further. His last shred of self-control slipping away to the pleasant haze of debauchery and drink, Adahn found himself kissing the blood elf, who looked surprised. Even more surprising was that Adahn suddenly found his assertive nature, which had been buried by the shame of having his secret discovered and by being cowed by the extroverted blood elf. Sandoval's hands roamed over to Adahn's neck, but before the blood elf could grab the Jaina mask and tug it up, Adahn batted his hands away. With a wide, confident grin, the human instead reached over to the blood elf and tugged Lady Liadrin's saggy features up and over Sandoval's. The elf protested a bit, but Adahn whispered reassuringly in his ear as he sealed up the redheaded blood elf female mask. Before Sandoval could protest, Adahn had pulled him into a deep kiss, their tongue's mixing. Despite everything, Sandoval responded to it, pushing towards Adahn and gasping a little in pleasure. Taking advantage of the closeness, the human's nimble fingers reached down and firmly grabbed Sandoval's manhood, causing the blood elf to gasp. Before he could protest, Adahn had firmly shoved the stiff dick back into lady Liadrin's folds, and reached in to seal the inner wall up. Morag was pumping harder and harder into Tamar's night elf ass causing the purple-skinned man to gasp and pant at the blissfully pleasant strain. There was a trickle of precum leaking down onto the floor from the edges of Tamar's rectum as the green manhood pumped into it, its head scraping against the inner walls of the night elf as it went back and forth. The member was already slick with thick, steaming fluid, making each thrust easier even though the night elf's rump clamped down a bit due to the intrusion. Tamar's right hand had traveled to his groin and he was now pumping away on his own night elf member, which was also leaking hot fluids over his hand already. The thick, rugged shaft was fully erect from the double stimulation, and as Morag forcefully slapped one of his asscheeks the night elf cried out and trembled, nearly blowing his load right there. Meanwhile Adahn had guided Liadrin (for Sandoval was now fully disguised as the blood elf redhead, with nothing to betray her true nature) down onto the floor opposite of where Morag and Tamar were going at it. Pushing her down gently but firmly, Adahn smiled at the confusion of the blood elf. She had not expected his newfound self-confidence and definitely not for him to take charge. She looked almost scared at being the submissive part of the duo, but Adahn gently stroked her hair and whispered reassuring words in her ear. Then he aided her down onto all fours and after briefly teasing the folds of her sex with his cockhead, plunged deep into her. She cried out and shuddered as he began pumping into her, trying to match the rhythm by which Morag was pumping into Tamar. Her slit was moist and warm, and clamped down on his manhood to form a cavern of welcoming flesh as he explored her depths. His hands roamed over her sweat-soaked body, occasionally teasing a breast her playing with her long hair. As the couples copulated, Liadrin and Tamar found themselves face to face, and soon they were kissing and running tongues across each other's skin, tasting the salt of their sweat and the tang of other fluids. Their partners pumped away, and Tamar kept working his own member, and for what felt like an eternity they were locked in that position. Then Morag cried out and emptied himself deep into the night elf's rear, and Tamar almost feverishly cummed himself, his large member spraying hot semen forward to coat his own torso and Liadrin's face and chest. Adahn came only a moment after, filling Liadrin's waiting womanhood to the brim, and she bucked under the force and shuddered as she orgasmed herself, her juices mixing with hers. They cried out like an uneven, unrehearsed choir, the thick juices of their passion dribbling down their legs and onto the floor to form large pools under each couple. Liadrin and Tamar's faces found each other again and they kissed as passion wracked them, making their whole bodies raw and plunging them deep into a world of nothing but ecstasy. As the throes of their collective release died down, the four delegates slowly sank to the floor, not caring of the fact that they were now lying in the cooling puddles of their own sex-fluids. Adahn curled up behind his blood elf partner, stroking her hair, while Morag and Tamar curled up close to each other, occasionally sharing a kiss as their dicks slowly went flaccid. "This turned into... quite a summit meeting," Adahn mumbled. "Not what I expected. "Well, I really can't complain," Tamar said. "Although we just wasted several hours without getting a single agreement signed. "We probably should get to that, before one of the servants gets too curious and forces the door open," Sandoval/Liadrin said, looking a lot more relaxed now, radiant in the afterglow of sex. "Good idea," Morag mumbled, agonizingly climbing into a sitting position. "I cannot believe we just did all this." Tamar shrugged and sat up next to his lover. "We probably should suit back up, and try to get back into our roles. Whatever we might say about our respective alter egos, I think they would want their duties completed." "Agreed," Adahn said, tugging at the Jaina Proudmoore mask around his neck. "I guess that's why they're leaders, and we're just four regular guys." They shared a good laugh before pulling their masks on and beginning the arduous task of cleaning off the conference table and their clothes. There might be a few questions from the servants and attendants later, but the four were sure they could come up with something. After all, improvising was the mark of a good leader.