By: SinfulWolf

Walking to the well in the centre of Innisgar, Ian drew up a full bucket of water. Drinking deeply from the wooden vessel, he doused what was left over his head, washing away the sweat and grime in his hair and on his skin. It had been a long morning, and already his arms were sore, and his shirt stuck to his back.

Shaking his head, Ian sat on the edge of the well and rested for just a moment before he had to head back into the hot confines of his blacksmith. Leaning back and basking in this moment of calm, he noticed the gates opening, and a single man in light leather armour come rushing in, clutching at his arm.

Ian immediately sat up as he saw the soldier, one of the scouts of the Innisgar militia, and the blood coursing out from under his fingers, dripping in a trail behind him. Someone shouted for the commander, who came bursting out of his personal quarters without bothering to throw on a shirt, shaving cream still smeared over half his face.

A frown creasing his brow, Ian rose to his feet, and moved closer, trying to hear what the scout was saying that made the commander’s face turn the colour of ash. The commander turned, the conversation over before Ian could eavesdrop, and looked about to say something, when a haunting long call from a horn sounded out from the forests surrounding the town.

Ian felt his blood run cold at the long note, and knew almost instinctively that the sound he was hearing, was that of a demonic war horn.

“To the walls!” the commander shouted out, and immediately there was a flurry of activity.

Sergeants ordered troops about as those off duty threw on armour and picked up weapons as quickly as they could, moving towards the ramparts of the wooden palisade that surrounded Innisgar. Villagers were screaming in abject terror, and some of the soldiers began urging them back into their homes where it would be safest.

“Ian what’s happening?” Rania said, clutching at her dress until her knuckles were white. Ian spun when he heard her voice, not knowing she had been standing there.

“Get to the blacksmith and hide. They’re coming,” he urged her, feeling his heart twinge as he saw the look of terror across her face. She didn’t ask who he meant, or even fight his suggestion. She simply turned and ran as fast as she could across the courtyard towards the blacksmith, slamming the door behind her.

A loud roar sounded from beyond the wall. There must have been at least a hundred of them out there, and archers upon the walls started to loose their arrows out towards the enemy. Ian watched, entranced by the opening salvos of the battle, the calm movements and actions of the soldiers. There was hope after all.

Then the first soldier fell.

There was no scream as he toppled from the rampart, clutching at the arrow burrowed into his neck, blood gushing out from around the shaft as his body smacked hard onto the ground. Ian rushed over to him, kneeling beside him, trying to stifle the flow of crimson. The man died in his arms as a scream of agony sounded above him.

A great crash sounded from the gate, and Ian looked up to see it starting to buckle. They had a ram at the gates, they were going to get through. He trembled upon his knees, until a scream from the north wall grasped his attention.

A gorgeous and terrible woman was upon the walls, large wings spread out behind her in her fine black armour, blood already spattered across her face and cleavage as she dropped the head of her kill to the ground.

Getting numbly to his feet Ian stared at the succubus as demonic soldiers climbed onto the wall beside her. She butchered the soldiers on the wall with quick skilled slashes of her blade, before she looked across the courtyard to where Ian stood. The blacksmith locked gazes with her, and felt his heart drop.

“No, Gods no,” he whimpered, almost in a sob, and even from this distance, he could see Lillium’s evil smirk.

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The horn called out, and the attack had begun. Lillium knew her soldiers would do their jobs well though she could not see them on the other side of the town. Sergeant Lorth led those soldiers, and he was skilled, competent, and intelligent. He would get the gates down, and provide enough distraction for Lillium and ten other Helots to get in through the side.

As the sounds of battle reached her ears, she burst out from the tree line and rushed towards the wall. One of the guards turned from watching the battle unfold and spotted her as her wings spread out behind her. The young man’s eyes went wide with fear as the succubus jumped up into the air, and beat down with her wings, lifting her upwards, landing atop the wall before the terrified soldier.

A scream of fear came from beside her as she grasped the militia man’s head, and swung her sword in a broad arc, neatly severing skull from shoulders in a spurt of deliciously hot blood that splashed across her skin. A tingle ran through her body as she felt droplets of crimson rolling down between her breasts while the headless corpse fell from the ramparts leaving her holding her grisly trophy by the tuft of hair.

Helots began to clamber up beside her as she looked across Innisgar, seeing the fear choked villagers fleeing into their homes, desperate to get away. Dropping the head to bounce across the platform beneath her feet, she quickly turned and lashed out at the other few soldiers left to defend this part of the wall, cutting them down in sprays of blood. Savouring the kills, she looked towards the western gate, and saw one man standing with bloodied hands. She saw his lips move as she met his eyes, and she smirked. Ian’s time would come soon enough.

As she began to make her way along the ramparts, the blacksmith ran, almost in a stumble towards a low building with a thick chimney pouring smoke into the sky. She would find him later, for now, she had a battle to win.

The front gates smashed open in a shower of splinters, the wooden doors swinging wide open for the Helots to charge through with their swords and shields. Rushing inside they began to hack down upon the defenders, spilling their blood. Lillium jumped down from the walls, landing gracefully on her heeled boots, and strode into the courtyard. A man with a half shaven face, and hastily donned armour shouted orders to soldiers, trying to establish a rally within the centre of the town.

“Come hero, end this,” Lillium yelled out to him, and the militia commander turned to her. There was no fear on his face, only determination. Lillium liked him, a brave man, a soldier to his core; she would give him a quick death.

Behind her, helots lit torches, and began setting flames to the homes of the town, while Lillium and the commander approached one another with drawn swords. He bled from a cut on the side of his head, but he ignored it as he lunged for the succubus once she was close enough. There would be no traded words here, just one warrior against another. It excited the succubus as she deflected the lunge and swung towards the man’s neck.

The man blocked, the ring of steel upon steel sounding out in the centre of the courtyard as town militia clashed with demonic helots around them. Steel plunged into flesh, and blood flowed like rivers while smoke poured into the sky above. Screams sounded shrilly through the town as homes burned, and the people who hid were dragged from their homes, shackles and iron collars slapped upon them.

The battle was not even finished and already the first slaves were being dragged out through the ruined gates, while commander fought commander. Succubus against man as they danced their deadly ballet of clashing steel.

A human archer, limping from a open wound across his thigh, pushed away the dead Helot that had deliver the spear thrust. Pulling an arrow from his quiver, he glanced once at the other approaching demons, with their square shields and notched swords as they marched towards him, blood glinting off their armour under sunlight and crackling fires that spread amongst the town. The archer let his eyes trail away from them to his commander, and the gorgeous woman he fought against. Her terrible beauty sent shiver’s up his spine, and a stirring in his loins. She, was dangerous.

Drawing his bow back, he lined up upon her, waiting for the perfect shot while the rest of her soldiers advanced upon him. He just needed to remove her, and he let his finger release the bowstring.

Lillium felt the arrow hit her in the chest, plunging into her right breast, missing the metal of her corseted cuirass. As the steel point drove through her flesh, the commander smirked, looking about to strike, until he heard the moan slip from his opponent’s black lips.

As she straightened from the impact, her own dark blood trickling from the wound in her chest, the succubus grinned upon the commander, who yelled out in fear and fury as he rushed towards her. He brought his sword down again and again while an ache grew in his wrist and forearm. Lillium didn’t back away as she deflected each strike perfectly, until she slipped away and lopped off his hand at the wrist.

The commander screamed in agony as he clutched at the bleeding stump, trying to stifle the blood flow, the jagged ends of his bones jabbing into his remaining palm. With a single hand, Lillium forced the aging man to his knees, and he looked up at her.

“I’ll give you nothing bitch,” he growled, before spitting at her. The succubus let out a sigh, and looked up. She could not see the man who shot her, presumably he was dead, or he had run. Reaching up to the arrow in her flesh, she grasped the shaft firmly and began to pull. The commander stared, as she moaned hungrily while she pulled the projectile from her breast, tearing through her until she pulled it free. Blood and strings of tissue hung from the tip as she tossed the arrow to the ground, and the hole it left in its wake sealed over, leaving only the blood smeared across her pale skin.

Trailing around behind the man before her, the claws of her gauntlets trailing along his cheek, she stopped behind him.

“No. You wouldn’t, but you have fought well, honourably. So I give you this one gift,” she said, before kneeling down behind him. He felt her hand running down his side, the swell of her breasts against his back, before her tongue softly touched his ear, and her lips grazed against his flesh.

“A quick death for you, and those under your command,” Lillium purred softly, before nipping gently at his ear. She rose to her feet, hand resting on his shoulder as she set the tip of her blade against the back of his neck.

The commander bent his head forward, and whispered a prayer to Oan. When he fell silent, he placed his hands upon his knees, and Lillium plunged her sword downwards.

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A log fell within the fire, sending up a shower of sparks into the crisp air. The sun was very nearly on the horizon, just about to vanish before the coming of the moon and the revelation of the stars, and so Kira and the band guiding her had stopped for the night.

The four of them sat around the fire, the two archers cooking meat while the man who had spoken to her the day before gently blew into a flute, causing soft music to curl through the clearing where they had set up camp for the night.

Kira idly poked at the fire with a stick, her tail idly flicking behind her, ignoring the gazes of the two archers, before turning to face the flute player.

“Thaden. You seem to be taking the death of your friends rather well,” she said, trying to find some common ground with this man.

The rogue grinned playfully, blowing a few more soft notes before letting the flute drop from his lips. He looked over the wolf like woman beside him, and slid his flute into the small bag that hung from his hip.

“We were never truly friends. Just compatriots who were forced from home for one reason or another, and decided to carve out some semblance of life by stealing and murdering. I have never had much use for the law, and while not everyone deserves what we did, I’m sure some did,” Thaden said with a shrug before leaning back, folding his arms behind his head.

“That man would have killed me if it meant a good profit. As it stood, keeping me around made him more coin. What he would spend it on, I don’t know, but damn if the stuff didn’t look good in chests back at our camp, or tucked into the bosom of a busty whore before she sat on our faces,” he said with a grin, and Kira shook her head.

“Class act,” she muttered.

“No, but it’s fun. And a whore has to make money more than any noble,” Thaden replied with a shrug.

“So your a hero, against the oppression of the nobility,” Kira said dryly, and let out a short snort of laughter, tossing her stick into the fire while her eyes met the two men across the flames from her. They averted their gazes, and looked down into the wooden bowls that they ate from.

“I’m sure to some I am, but mostly I’m just a horny man, whose good with a flute and his cock, and I like money and booze and cunt,” he said, pulling a gold coin from his purse, rolling it across his knuckles.

“Though, I am a good friend to those I count among my friends, and as much as it may grieve my companions, you are dangerously close to becoming my friend. I like you wolf girl. You’re sexy, dangerous, and focused. I must say I appreciate tales of heroic deeds, but I have to warn you against your course of action,” the rogue said, and his tone grew serious.

“You’re not going to dissuade me. I need to get to Driftafay,” she said.

“And find the Elves to get a home for your people under their protection. I know, and truly it is the best for your people… but not for you. You may be beautiful, but the elves will look upon you as a danger to them. Their magic cannot create warriors born of nature, and their temples will look upon you as blasphemy. A joining of nature and the savagery of man. To them, such a union cannot exist. You will save your people, but damn yourself,” Thaden said.

“Then it will be worth everything,” Kira said, ignoring the two men across from her as they finished their meals, and wandered off to their individual tents, leaving Thaden and her alone by the fire.

“I do envy you Kira. I sometimes wish my heart were so noble that I could be such a character that they sing of in songs and hopeless men speak of in their mugs to bring some kind of light to their dreary lives. But I am not… though I could make such a thing of you,” he said, and Kira laughed.

“I can picture it now. The ever beautiful Kira the Wolfkin, leading her people to a bright future despite the end that awaits herself. Noble, kind of heart, and deadly in battle. She would be a beacon of light to those who dread the invading Kazdruk… and you will be,”  Thaden laughed gently, then glanced towards his tent.

“But, we have a long way to go until Driftafay, and I intend to get some sleep before waking up at the ogreish hour needed to make decent time.

Kira watched him walk towards his small tent and duck within, even as she felt an animalistic stirring between her legs. She frowned, forcing her eyes away from Thaden’s tent to glance into the fire. For the first time since leaving Innisgar, she felt fear.

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Lillium grinned as she licked blood from the claws of her gauntlet, all while leaning against the holy altar of Innisgar’s church. Save her boots and gauntlets, her armour was neatly placed upon the altar, resting in the blood of the high priest of the town, whose body was slumped unceremoniously still clutching his holy book on the other side.

Soft moans slipped from the succubus’s lips, as her free hand pushed the head of one of the Oan nuns to her cunt. The young woman, still a virgin no doubt, timidly ran her tongue over Lillium’s entrance and upwards to her clit, while the succubus ground against her inexperienced mouth.

“Living with no one but women, I thought you’d be much better at this. Perhaps I should just give you to my troops after all,” Lillium growled hungrily, earning a squeal of fear from the nun. The woman’s arms launched up, grasping at the demon’s ass and pressed her face tighter between the succubus’s thighs. Her tongue darted desperately between Lillium’s nether lips, drawing forth hungry moans despite her lack of skill.

“Good girl,” Lillium purred, easing the pressure on the nun’s head, and pulled back the hood of her habit, and began to stroke her dark brown hair, letting the woman’s own fear and desperation keep her tongue and lips working.

The succubus let her fingers trail through the woman’s locks as she looked up around the church. Blood was spattered all across the pews, and corpses were sprawled amongst the pews; those last few who had sought sanctuary in the house of their God. When Lillium had kicked down the doors and her helots went to work, she had walked through the slaughter and butchered the priest before finding the three nuns cowering in the corner.

Now one was between her legs, another pressed against the wall, her habit torn away so only a few shreds hung off one shoulder as a helot ravaged her from behind. Her hands scratched at the wall, breasts rubbing against the stone walls beneath the shattered pane of stained glass as she grunted while a cock plunged into her ass again and again.

The last of the nuns was on her hands and knees, her eyes locked on her sister who had willingly crawled to Lillium to escape the savagery of the helots. Her habit was torn away from the waist, and another of the demonic soldiers fucked her from behind, grunting in pleasure as he slid within her, but she made not a sound, glaring at her sister’s betrayal.

Lillium grinned at the sight, and bit her lip, putting on a show for the angry nun upon all fours.

One of the doors fell from its hinges as sergeant Lorth walked into the church. His eyes swept over the scene quickly as he moved towards Lillium, and the succubus smirked at the sight of glistening juices around his maw.

“Mistress. The slaves are all rounded up and in chains. We are ready to depart on your word,” he reported with a low bow.

“Excellent. And of the two I specified?” she asked quizzically.

“The ones called Ian, and Rania have been separated, and are already being delivered to the dungeons as you commanded mistress,” he reported, and Lillium nodded, before forcing the nun between her legs away from her cunt, and dragged her to her feet.

The succubus hungrily kissed the nun, whose eyes went wide in surprise as the demon’s tongue slithered between her lips, while Lillium groaned at the taste of her own flavour. When she broke the kiss, she slapped the nun’s ass.

“And you my pet, are coming with me,” she purred, her fingers curling tightly in her flesh. The nun’s cheeks burned deep red, and she could not bring herself to look upon her sisters.

“As for the other two… do with them what you will sergeant,” Lillium said, indicating the other two.

Lorth grinned hungrily, punching a fist to his chest.

“Happily mistress.”