By: Lucien

All of Neicul’s training played over in my head. I wonder what he would say If he knew I was currently on my way to confront Luzella. Would he call me a fool or support my decision, I wondered. It didn’t really matter, I suppose. I had my mind set on ruining her for good. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder. I shook my head trying to clear my mind and focus on the matter at hand. How would Luzella fight? What tactics would she use? Would she fight with honor or would she fight dirty with no-one watching? 

I found myself clenching my fist at the agitated thoughts. Would she even keep her word and show up alone? I turned a corner and continued down the shadowy halls towards the north end ring. I glanced at each statue as I passed by, wondering if one would be Luzella waiting to strike. I smirked at the thought. Each one was a great warrior. Generations of Kazdruk champions, leaders and heroes. 

I made my way further down the dark corridor stepping closer. My heart began beating faster now, thumping, about to rip out of my chest. Thrusts of adrenaline surged through my veins, I gripped my staff to help keep calm and push forward.

“Well, well, well,” Luzella’s voice rang out from the ring below.

“I didn’t think you would show.”

I lept down to the ring below and looked up at her. She was smiling her usual malevolent smile. A face of egotistical efficacy. It enraged me. Deep inside a fire storm was swirling now. I wanted to see her die.

“You’re an interesting elf, Kamri,” Luzella spoke crudely. “You may have bested my sister, but what makes you think you can defeat me? Clearly you have a death wish.”

“I need to prove to myself that I can take you.” I responded quickly. “Once and for all.”

Luzella stopped circling and let out a serrated laugh. 

“Almost honorable, I suppose.  If violence is what you seek Kamri, I’m more than glad to bask you in it.

Tightening her wrist wraps, she looked down at me with an arrogant glare. “I shall drown you in your own blood, southlander.”

I smiled back.

“Then let us begin, I’m thirsty.”


“Don’t touch zat Brazeek, put it down. Don’t you have any patience?” Jelthra whispered.

“Wheree is she?” Brazeek asked.

“I don’t know! You’re ze the one who told Wulfshn to meet you here!”

Brazeek sighed and put down the strange interrogation device he had found to entertain himself with.

“Whaaat if your spell doooesn’t work?” Brazeek asked.

“It will.” Jelthra responded, rolling her eyes, “I cast the tripwire spell perfectly!”

“Buuut what if it doesn’t? Brazeek smiled.

“That’s why you’re here.” Jethra returned with a sting behind her voice. “You’re stronger than her aren’t you?

“Uhh..weeell…” The brute paused for a moment.  “Yes, yes of course,” Brazeek stood up proudly.

“Get down you moron! We’re hiding, remember.”

Brazeek and Jelthra silenced their bickering as they heard Wulfshn coming near. Her unmistakable cloven trot gave it away.

“Ok Brazzeek, herez we go!”

Wulfshn strolled to the doorway.

“Alright Brazeek, where are those slav-”

The rune Jelthra had planted, exploded into a brilliant cobalt blue.

“Ahh! What th

Wulfshn stumbled a few steps while shaking her head. The two watched as she became dazed and disoriented. Jelthra cursed under her breath as she noticed Wulfshn trying to shake off the spell. The Kazdruk stumbled again and caught herself on the wall to avoid falling over.

“Brazeek, you son of a” Wulfshn slurred her words and finally fell over onto the ground.

“Ok, go!” Jelthra yelled.

Brazeek ran over and hooked Wulfshn under her arms and dragged her towards the breeding stocks. She began to move again. Fading in and out, her eyes began to regain focus. Brazeek moved as quickly as he awkwardly dragged the heavy kazdruk woman. He pushed her next to the stock and rolled her over face down.

Quickly, he placed her wrists into the locking slots. Jelthra moved in rapidly and locked each steel slat. The two then moved, shifted her forward and up onto her knees. With a click, Jelthra locked Wulfshn’s ankle cuffs that were attached to the base of the breeding stock. Jelthra locked the last cuff right as Wulfshn began thrashing awake. Her large arms and legs flexed and she tried to break free.

Jelthra smiled seeing Wulfshn trapped on her hands and knees struggling to break out. Wulfshn growled in frustration and anger.

“Let me out you fools!”

“Good luck breaking out of zat, my dear Wulfshn. That steel was forged to hold ze dragons in place.”

“Mark my words, when I get out, I’m going to eviscerate both of you and hang your heads on my wall!”

The two smiled looking down at their handywork. Jelthra removed her dagger and cut through Wulfshn’s light training attire, exposing her pussy.   

“Hmm, Brazeek, I wonder if Keeats will know ze difference between her holes here?” Jelthra laughed as Brazeek grinned.

 “No…you wouldn’t…YOU… BITCH!” Wulfshn flexed again, realizing her predicament she would soon be in.

Moving upward now, Jelthra cut the Kazdruk’s top off, letting her large breasts fall free like heavy pendulums. Cupping one softly, Jelthra let Wulfshn’s large breast fill her hand. With a good squeeze, Jelthra smirked.

“Zey are going to breed you good.”


Brazeek looked down at the lovely sight. He girnned as his cock began to harden.

“Don’t get any ideaz, stick to ze plan, now let’z go!”

Brazeek frowned and moved away. Jelthra walked over to the gate on the other side of the room. She undid the lock and pushed it open. With a groaning squeak, the rusty gate swung wide, revealing a long narrow corridor. Jelthra made her way in and grimmieced at the pungent smell.

She stood at the mouth of the tertiary Keeat kennel. This area held a backup hunting regiment of Keeats. A ragtag group of ones still in training. Others who were not obedient and some who were just too wild. This kennel section held thirty separate cages. Jelthra walked past the locked runs smiling. Making her way to the end, she made sure the other side was locked shut. She needed to make sure the Keeats would only move in one direction, towards Wulfshn. Walking back to the entrance, she found the master gate release bar. With a sharp tug, she yanked the pulley mechanism. Quickly, she moved back and exited, passing Wulfshn as she still struggled to break free.

“Enjoy, Wulfshn.”

Meeting back up with Brazeek, the two quickly left Wulfshn and locked the chamber behind them. The first part of their grand plan was accomplished. They began to head towards the north fighting ring to assist Kamri.


Luzella and Kamri circled each other at a slow pace around the ring. The dim light from above spilled down in long spindly rays. A mix of dust and smoke from nearby sconces caught the tarnished light, causing an ethereal appearance to fill the pit. Luzella’s eyes glowed through the haze. Piercing through like white hot cinders. Letting her halberd rest across her broad shoulders, the muscular Kazdruk rolled her neck before dropping the axe to a low ready. Kamri twirled her staff in anticipation. The light fluttering sound was rhythmic and strangely hypnotic. Spinning the staff around her back and then forward faster and faster. She warmed up the muscles in her arms as she measured Luzella. The taste of metal filled her mouth as small surges of adrenaline blasted through her corrupt veins.

“Tell me Kamri, what do I receive once I defeat you here again,” Luzella barked. “There’s no one here to witness my greatness. No one can pass the story of your pathetic loss throughout the spire. Why should I even be here wasting my time?”

“Sounds like you aren’t confident in your ability to defeat me,” Kamri replied quickly. “If you’re too much of a coward to accept my challenge, I’ll leave. I’ll make sure to let the others know how you turned me down — out of fear.”

Luzella smirked and fumbled her sharp canine over her lower lip.

“You really do have a death wish, don’t you?” Once I’m through wit

Luzella was cut off as Kamri initiated the first strike. She sprinted in quickly without warning and jabbed high. The high strike was meant as more of a diversion. Luzella leaned to the side and deflected the strike off with the end of her helbard. A loud clang rang out, sending bright sparks into the shadows. Promptly, Kamri struck again with the other end of her staff. The quick jabs being launched so quickly and so close, forced Luzella to back up and go on the defense.

Luzella smiled at the aggression the elf was showing. Pure and unfiltered attacks. The large Kazdruk, side stepped and swung the tail end of her halberd towards the elf. Kamri easily dodged the swing and landed a hard kick to Luzella’s torso, before diving backward to evade any possible counter strike. Kamri watched the fury growing in Luzella’s eyes, she needed to set her off quickly. Let her rage blind her.

Wulfshn struggled in the stocks. Flexing her arms and pulling as hard as she could, the heavy Kazdruk steel was too much for even a strong warrior such as herself. Heavy panting started to fill the room. Looking over her shoulder, she watched in horror as three keeats slowly made their way into the room. Panicking now, Wulfshn shook the stocks, trying deprestlty to break free.

The loud clanking perked the keeat’s ears up and they quickly moved towards her. The lumbering beasts surrounded her, one drove its muzzle into Wulfshn’s rear. The Kazdruk attempted to kick the beast away but her ankles remained locked in place as well. Gritted teeth quickly opened, letting a short breath exhale from Wulfshn’s mouth. She bit her lip as one keeat lapped its long tongue up across her labia. She looked back to see more keeats flooding into the room one after another.

Another lap distracted her. She dropped her head as the powerful tongue continued. It plunged into her now, lapping away in strong steady strokes. More keeats surrounded the others.

They saw the position Wulfshn was in. On all fours, she was stuck in a presentation for their mating. She looked over to see their thick pulsating cocks slip from their sheaths. A few were already dripping with pre-cum, leaving sticky strands across the floor.

She looked to her other side as more keeats filled the room. Losing count, there had to be twenty or thirty. One that stood roughly a head taller than the others, pushed his way through the group. A few knew well enough to move. Others were met with nasty snarls and snaps.

The alpha had arrived.   

“You’re getting slow Luzella,” the elf spat before spinning her staff and striking low.

Luzella blocked the hard strike with her arm and returned a very high, stiff kick. Her hoove swooped forward with the weight of a ballista behind it. The massive punt struck Kamri square in the chest, knocking her off her feet. Coughing, Kamri was already scrambling to get back up.

The sizable strike had her seeing stars. Cursing through the cough, Kamri knew she couldn’t afford another strike like that. Luzella was already trialing close behind before coming down hard with a slash from her halberd. Diving quickly, the elf rolled out of the way and got back to her feet.

With a somersault, Kamri closed the distance and slashed upward with her staff. Luzella couldn’t clear her own size quickly enough and was hit hard in the face. The strike dazed the tall soldier and she stumbled backward. Kamri took the opening and unleashed a combination of strikes into Luzella. As Kamri advanced into her, the tall Kazdruk struggled to raise her halberd to defend. Kamri jammed her staff into the long axe blade. Leveraging at the right angle, she pried it from Luzella’s hands. Luzella responded accordingly. Leaving the halberd behind, she rolled backward out of Kamri’s storm of aggressive strikes.

Luzella rose quickly. In a force of rage, she ran towards Kamri head on. The tactic was an unorthodox move. Letting her long powerful legs carry her, she closed the distance promptly.

Kamri thought she was on the offensive and was not ready. The beast outstretched her arms and grabbed the nimble southlander. The hard strike knocked the wind out of the elf’s lungs and sent her staff spinning off into the ring. Luzella didn’t stop, she lifted the smaller elf off the ground and drove her body into a nearby stone pillar.

A loud crack rang out into the spire halls, sending a sharp jolt of pain through Kamri’s body. The authoritative hit fractured the stone, sending shards of pieces to fall to the ground below.

Luzella held the elf in place for a moment, grinning in a mix of rage and excited bloodlust. She grabbed Kamri by the neck and let her faltering body dangle. Pulling back, the Kazdruk drove The elf hard into the column again, sending a spidering crack to crawl across the cylindrical pillar.

Blood began to trickle from Kamri’s mouth as she struggled to reach up and break Luzella’s grip around her neck. Luzella denied the action. Squeezing her adversarie’s throat, the large warrior drove the elf into the column again, this time the force broke multiple large chunks of the pillar off to the ground. The world was going black for Kamri.

The alpha reared up and mounted Wulfshn, wrapping his jaws into the nap of her neck, he showed his dominance and began to buck into her. The powerful Kazdruk let a soft moan slip again as the keeat’s thick cock began to sink into her pussy. The member was quite large, even for Wulfshn. She tensed up slightly as the girth stretched her womanhood. With a heavy thrust, the alpha began to fuck his new toy. A steady, soft clapping echoed into the hall. Wulfshn made fists of resentment as the humiliating act unfolded. A long string of drool fell across her face as the beast above pleasured himself inside her.

Scoffing in disgust, Wulfshn closed her eyes and took the heafy beast shaft. In excitement and blind lust, the keeat humped into her faster, letting his heavy balls smack into his new mate. His front paws gripping tightly, he began to unload a hot thick load.

Wulfshn’s eyebrows arched as she felt her insides fill with warm thick seed. With a soft growl the heavy beast slowed his pace to a stronger more robust movement. Panting as his balls drained, his knot expanded, further stretching Wulfshn’s tight cunt.

Wulfshn Keeat_1

The other keeats were already circling around her, cocks drawn and throbbing in anticipation. Ready to breed her, they lined up around the Kazdruk. She felt another salvo of seed pump into her. This load started expanding her womb now.

Snarling her teeth, Wulfshn tried again to break free from the stocks. Pulling as hard as she could, she moved nowhere. The warm cum pooled inside her as the alpha beast held her tightly. Panting heavily, the beast slowed for a moment and let his large head rest a top Wulfshn’s own.

His large knot remained lodged inside. He let a low growl slip through his teeth to warn the others he wasn’t yet finished. Picking up the pace again, he thrusted into Wulfshn, causing her heavy breasts to sway. The warrior winced as the large cock began to plow her again.

The rhythmic clapping of skin grew faster, as even more batter filled her insides. Now at the brink of overflowing. Only the knot kept the warm cum trapped inside as he finished. Satisfied, the alpha dismounted. Forcefully pulling his cock from her, a large torrent of cum spilled to the floor as the thick knot freed itself. With his job complete for now, he strolled off. Wulfshn huffed in short shallow breaths for a moment, relieved the alpha had finally had his fill.

Her relaxation was only momentary though, as the next keeat in line quickly took his place. Mounting her awkwardly, he wasted no time plunging his hard shaft into her already flooded pussy. A small grunt slid out of Wulfshn as the cycle started over. 

Luzella held the elf’s motionless body, letting her dangle for a moment before driving her into the ground. Luzella pinned Kamri into the dirt. With her hands still around the southlander’s neck, Luzella smiled as she straddled her wounded prey. Kamri tried one last time to free herself but the Kazdruk’s weight and strength was too much.

Brazeek and Jelthra came running around the corner. The two saw Luzella on top of Kamri.

Horrid thoughts filled both their minds. Were they too late? They thought to themselves. Jelthra noticed Kamri’s feet kicking in the dirt, knocking up small clouds of dust. A glimpse of hope filled the human’s mind. She wasn’t dead yet. 

“Come on! We haz to help. Brazeek, we need to get Luzella away from Kamri! So we can start the portal spell.”

“I’m already ooon my way!” Brazeek returned.

Luzella was enjoying squeezing the life out of Kamri. When suddenly she was tackled off the elf.  The kazdruk rose up quickly in a fit of rage. As the sandy soot began to settle, Brazeek kneeled before her grinning. 

“What are you doing here, slug!” Luzella yelled enraged.

She stood up and quickly went for Brazeek’s throat. The two tumbled to the ground in another cloud of dust. Jelthra ran to Kamri, grabbed her staff and handed it to her.

“Now’s our chance! Gez up.”

Kamri coughed and struggled to rise to her feet. Dazed, she used her staff to prop herself up. Her legs wavered as the cold room spun. Luzella and Brazeek rose, now circling each other. Brazeek’s teeth glimmered as he smiled. Bringing his large knife into view, he winked with his good eye before slashing at Luzella. The large Kazdruk jumped back and dodged the fast cut.

“You lack honor Brazeek! Interfering with another talon leader’s challenge! And now striking at me? You wish for death!”

“Yooou can tryyy Luzella!” Brazeek returned, before slashing out again.

Luzella stepped back and deflected the second slash off to the side but was quickly met with another. The cold Kazdruk steel caught Luzella’s forearm slicing her skin and spilling her hot blood to the sand below. Brazeek hastalty moved inward while jabbing the large blade again and again. Striking like an oversized razor beetle of home, the sharp edge landed again into Luzella’s other arm.

Closing the distance completely, Brazeek moved quickly, readying for a final killing strike. As he stabbed outward, Luzella caught his wrist and twisted his forearm. The large Kazdruk stumbled as Luzella forced his arm into an unnatural angle.

In a grunt of pain, Brazeek pulled forward as Luzella leveraged his arm harder. Twisting until an audible crack rang out. Luzella continued further, dislocating his shoulder. The searing pain ran up Brazeek’s arm as his face filled with a mixture of shock and horror.

Dropping his blade into the dirt, he flailed, trying anything to break free from Luzella’s iron grip.The destructive Kazdruk did not let up, she placed her knee across his back and kept wrenching his arm. Sinew, muscle fibers and tendons began to painfully separate. In a final push, Brazeek brought himself up in defiance. Luzella only smiled in his agoy before headbutting him. In a sharp crunch, it shattered his nose and he fell to the ground.

Luzella reached down and picked up his knife. Gripping the hilt tightly, the powerful Rakreegan flashed another smile. A wash of sadism filled her face as blood poured from her adversary’s nostrils. Brazeek looked on through the blood in fear. Panicking now, he rolled over and started to drag himself away with his one good arm. Luzella followed him slowly.

“Face me coward! You started this! Don’t you dare turn your back on me and crawl away like a suckling pup!” Luzella growled, before kicking dirt over him.

She reached his side and kicked him hard in the ribs. The horse punt, shattering his ribs. Brazeek rolled to his back in agonizing pain. Pursing her lips, Luzella straddled Brazeek. Purposely dropping her full weight, to further injure his damaged body.

“Goodbye Brazeek, may your bloodline and kin forget your name,”

Luzella spoke coldy before spitting a wad of saliva across his face.

Gripping both hands around the knife, she drove the large blade downward through his heart. Brazeek convulsed for a moment as crimson bubbled up from his mouth.

On a warpath now, Luzella rose. Leaving the knife in Brazeek’s lifeless body. She focused her gaze on Kamri and Jelthra. Picking up her halberd, she swiftly made her way toward the two. A flash of brilliant light blasted out inside the dim chamber. Squinting in confusion, Luzella covered her brow as a large portal began to swirl open.

In a wild blizzard of debris, shards of sand and rock swirled around pelting the stone walls. Jeltrha stood next to Kamri with the imprint stone as the two worked on opening the receiving end of the portal. Nervously, Jelthra looked over at Luzella as she neared closer.

“She’s coming! You nez to do your part and choose ze exit of ze portal!” I’ll do what I can to hold Luzella off!” Jelthra yelled over the whirring sound.

Breaking away from Kamri’s side, she raised her hand up and launched a rapid volley of three fireballs. Two splashed along Luzella’s halberd, but the third struck Luzella’s upper shoulder pauldron.

In an explosion, part of her armor was engulfed in flames. Luzella gritted her teeth and patted out the small fire with her bare hand. In a brisk canter, Luzella closed the distance and was met with another fireball. Blocking the attack with her forearm, cinders blasted out across her skin, burning her.

Underestimating Luzella’s speed, Jelthra quickly moved backward to attempt to unsealth her sword. Luzella denied the human’s attempt and lifted her by her neck, before tossing her into a stone pillar. The tall Kazdruk lifted her halberd and came down hard toward Jelthra. Dazed, the human was able to roll out the way. The powerful strike sliced into the pillar, cleaving off a large chunk of stone. In a blink of confusion, a pack of keeats suddenly ran into the area all barking and growling wildly.

Kamri focused on the realm to have the portal open to. She drew the rune with her finger into the opening. The portal pulsed from red to a bright blue before inverting to a twisted black oily color. Kamri knew this was her cue to focus on what would now inhabit the realm. She began to drown out the commotion around her and closed her eyes. Filling her mind with what would await Luzella.

Out of nowhere, Kamri’s thoughts were quickly interrupted as a keeat bumped into her leg nearly knocking her over.

“What th—” Kamri yelled out.

Two more keeats chased by after the other before quickly running off. The portal suddenly pulsed back to blue and began to open.

“Ah! Wait, no!” I didn’t get a chance to…”

“Kamri! Quick!” Jelthra shouted, as she and Luzella stumbled around the group of wild keeats. The human used the confusion to make space between her and Luzella who was beyond furious now. Jelthra turned and made her way towards Kamri and the now open portal.

In great annoyance, Luzella pushed the keeats away and followed Jelthra up the line of steps leading to the stone landing. Kamri and Jelthra stood side by side on the elevated walkway leading to the entrance of the large portal.

Sword drawn, Jelthra lashed out with a strike, Luzella quickly moved to guard the slash. Knowing time was short, Kamri moved in now too, it was time to get Luzella into the portal. Kamri and Jelthra took turns unleashing attacks towards Luzella. The angered Kazdruk used her halberd’s shaft as a staff, deflecting the mixed onslaught.

The cramped, elevated walkway made the skirmish difficult for all three. With time running out, Jelthra attempted to slip behind Luzella. As she moved by, Luzella caught the human off guard by pivoting her torso. Letting the halberd trail behind, she contacted Jelthra hard in the abdomen, knocking her off the walkway to fall to the floor one level below.

Kamri took the opening to begin a combo of strikes. Forcing Luzella onto the defensive. The Kazdruk turned, now having her back to the portal. Kamri had Luzella exactly where she wanted her.  She moved inward aggressively, alternating strikes high and low. Portal ciders swirled around the two as they inched closer. Luzella’s eyes widened at the sudden realization of how close she actually was to the portal now.

A tactical miscalculation, she was too caught up in the moment. A trickle of nervousness ran up her spine as she felt a subtle tug at her back. Her hair started to lift up and backwards. It was the gravitational phenomenon that occurs when one is close to a portal entrance. Kamri didn’t let up. She used every form she knew, keeping the Kazdruk off balance and moving. Sparks spat as their steel collided in fury. 

Teeth gritted, Luzella lashed out like a cornered wolf. She stabbed her halberd outward, causing Kamri to dodge off to the side. The elf watched as the portal started closing like an iris. In a final volly, Kamri spun her staff and struck at Luzella’s side. The towering Kazdruk stepped backward passing her leg deep into the portal and parried the attack. The powerful strike knocked Kamri hard into the walkway’s side railing. Before the elf could recover, Luzella had already violently sliced downward.

The large blade severed Kamri’s left arm off.

Kamri didn’t feel anything at first. She only heard the noise of her arm and staff fall to the ground. Blood spilled onto everything. Instinctively, her body was in survival mode and tried to press on.

The force being applied to Luzella’s body was immense now. Every muscle flexed as she attempted to pry herself free from the portal. It was too late. Too much of her body had moved beyond the threshold. There was no way to exit now. As her muscular body was consumed within the portal, she reached out and grabbed Kamri’s chest armor plate.

“I’ll see you in hell!”

The elf fell backward, breaking Luzella’s grip. 

Kamri sat for a moment gripping what was left of her arm. Thick blood seeped through her fingers and began puddling on the walkway. She fell to her side in exhaustion. Eye’s faltering, Kamri managed to crack a sly smile as she watched the last of Luzella’s body disappear and the portal close shortly after.



Shackles of Hate. Chapter 25: Of Schemes and Plots

By: SinfulWolf

Sipping at a glass of wine, Lelthina watched the sun rise over the city of Driftafay as she looked out her open window. Her sheer robes flowed gently around her as the breeze wafted into the room, the richly tailored garb open to let show bare skin. Though the robe did nothing to hide what it did cover. As shadows began to very slowly retreat from the streets and buildings of the city, Lelthina wished she had a balcony to stand upon. Telva’s room certainly did. She could stand out there dressed as she was, without any real concern of anyone seeing her nakedness, so high above the city. Not that it mattered if they did, it seemed more and more of them were following the dark Goddess whose claws seem to sink ever deeper into the lands of humans and elves each time the sun rose.

Just like that the once purely political desire to have the Winterstone Princess removed had turned personal once again in the governess’s mind. Absently she licked her lips, letting her thoughts drift back to the woman whose fault it was. Lillium had gotten into her mind so firmly, so that now, after an evening of passionate sex with the rather skilled Sienna, Lelthina was daydreaming about the succubus again. Chewing on her lip as she remembered those last moments Lillium had spent in the abandoned farmhouse.

Turning away from the window she looked at Sienna, still sleeping, sheets draped only over her hips. The slow rise and fall of her breasts, nipples stiff from the slight chill of the breeze washing into the room. Lelthina touched the marks on her own breast as she set her wine down and moved towards her bed. In her mind she knew it had been a mistake to take Sienna to her bed. But Lelthina had needed it, and now that the mistake had been made she merely wanted it. And a queen could take whatever she wanted.

As she reached the foot of her bed, Sienna’s eyes opened slowly. She looked up at her new lover with that smirk that was quickly shifting from insufferable to endearing. Even attractive in its own way. Reaching up to her shoulders, Lelthina let her robe fall away, and began to crawl onto the bed, pulling the sheets away. Sienna shifted, watching as her superior started kissing her toes, her feet, her shins. Slowly Lelthina worked her way upwards, earning a deeper breathing from the captain.

There were no words, just a slight gasp as Lelthina let her lips begin to trail along Sienna’s lean thigh. Then a moan when tongue lashed out between the tart lips of her cunt. Reaching above herself, Sienna grasped the headboards, and let out something close to a whimper when Lelthina’s kisses continued to climb higher. Moving across the hard muscle of her stomach, and to the curves of her breasts. Sienna’s display of Elvish perfection. Letting her tongue swirl around each nipple slowly in turn. Letting the warm trails cool under the breeze that washed into the room. Bit gently at each one, drawing fresh moans from the soldier.

Still Lelthina climbed higher. Dragging her breasts over Sienna’s body now. Licking and kissing at the captain’s neck, her jaw. Finally their lips met, each tasting lingering flavours of themselves upon the lips of the other. On the dancing tongues of the other. In this room, there was no rank or authority. Just a desire to taste the skin of the other. To give and take pleasure from the other. Then Lelthina broke the kiss. Straddling her lover now she continued to climb. Now feeling Sienna’s lips and tongue on her skin. Just as eager as the night before. Gentler though. Savouring the flavours.

Her thighs continued to move upwards, the tips of her breasts gliding over an outstretched tongue and moist lips. Lelthina let her own moan out now, as she moved higher. Felt Sienna’s hands move away from the headboard to run down her sides. Ghosting over her ribs as lips found a rising stomach. A tongue dipping into a passing navel.

Then hands grasped Lelthina’s rear. Squeezed it tightly, as her pussy settled over Sienna’s mouth. Lelthina let out a gentle moan at the soft kiss that started. The caress of lips upon her entrance. The gentle push of tongue to open her. To reveal her intimacy. Then the tongue pushed inwards. Not far, playing and caressing just inside. Making Lelthina’s hips start to move. To grind against the face beneath her. Earning more earnest motions of the tongue. Gliding from the lips of her cunt to the glistening button of her clit. Flicking over it, letting her lip drag across it.

Now the governess held the headboard, her back arched with breasts pushed outwards. She moaned hungrily to the ceiling, as she rode her lover’s face. Let that tongue coax her deeper into infatuation with a woman that was supposed to be her enemy. To draw her deeper into a faith that should be outlawed. Fingers curled tightly over the top of the headboard, Lelthina’s hips rocked hard and eagerly. Hands grasped her rear, squeezing tightly, pulling at those rear cheeks.

The governess just let her moans pour out, not caring who heard. Indeed, she somewhat hoped someone did. The rumours they could spark might actually help her current path.

Nails now dragged down her stomach, and her head lowered. Unbound hair hung before her breasts as she breathed out her pleasure in low sounds, her hips refusing to stop moving. Grinding ever harder against Sienna’s mouth, feeling the captain’s tongue caressing inside her.

Hands then grasped her hips, and Lelthina felt herself flipped over. Her hands torn from the head board as her back hit pillows and blankets. Hips lifted upwards, the governess wrapped her legs firmly around Sienna’s diving head. Pulling her tighter against her needy cunt. She moaned loudly again, one hand upon her own breast and squeezing, the other grasping a pillow tight. Sienna’s breasts pressed firmly against the back of Lelthina’s thighs, hard nipples near digging into the skin.

When her orgasm finally started to wash over her, Lelthina’s hand snapped upwards. Grasping Sienna by the hair and pulling down. The captain’s eyes flicked up, staring down at her superior along the expanse of her naked form. Her lips and tongue still working eagerly to guide the noblewoman through the heights of her bliss. Higher into pleasure, and deeper into her carnal desires. When her climax finally struck, Lelthina threw her head back and let her moan sound out loud and clear. Her toes curling behind Sienna’s head.

Only then did the captain slow. Letting the ministrations of her tongue become a crawl until legs had relaxed enough for her to escape their clutch. She knelt there, her face and neck smeared in glistening juices. Her smirk slowly creeping over her features as she looked down at her lover. Watching Lelthina slowly regain her breath. Then, Sienna lowered herself, and gently kissed the governess. For a moment their lips merely caressed, until Lelthina opened her mouth to let the captain’s tongue in. Tasting herself in that slow kiss. When it finally broke they stared at each other a long moment.

“Are you hoping for something in return?” Lelthina told the other woman, trying to match that smirk, unsure if she managed to succeed.

“Always. But I shall wait for the next time,” Sienna replied, and Lelthina was impressed by the woman’s arrogance. Once again, the bloodthirsty soldier was right; there would be a next time.

“Good. You know what Lillium wants. The sooner she gets her prize the sooner I can claim the crown of Winterstone.”

“And the sooner you can fuck her.”

“I wasn’t the only one drooling in that farmhouse,” Lelthina ran her thumb along Sienna’s lower lip as she spoke, then brought it to her own mouth and let her tongue flick across it. Sienna just kept her smirk, giving Lelthina the answer she wanted. In her mind, the governess had to congratulate the captain. She was one of only two she would allow such crass words. Though, the thought of Lillium made her think it may be three.

“Just remember who you serve,” Lelthina said, and Sienna replied by leaning down and wrapping her lips around a nipple and slowly dragging her tongue over it. Coaxing a small moan from Lelthina, and starting to stir the embers of lust again.

“Go now. See to your company. Start spreading your faith, start recruiting, start purging. Do whatever you need to do to ensure I have a purely loyal company and that there are those loyal to me among the others. When you have enough to capture Telva, come find me.”

“At once… my queen,” Sienna purred, lifting her head from Lelthina’s breasts, letting her hair glide along that perfect skin.

The captain rose from the bed, slowly dressing in a style that was more Morkatan influenced. The leather pants near skin tight, the tunic almost a corset. It was dangerous, but Lelthina let the card be played. The sword was strapped to her hip, and the captain even bowed before departing.

Sienna was proving to be more than a pawn, and Lelthina had all intentions to use that piece to its full advantage. She laid back and savoured the afterglow of sex for a few moments longer, until she heard a soft knock at her door. Almost dainty.

“Enter,” she called, not bothering to cover herself. She had never been one for much modesty, but lately she found herself savouring her own sexuality more and more.

A slight elven woman entered. She wore a richly tailored dress though no jewellery, and her makeup made her look rather pretty. Deliah closed the door behind her, then turned and bowed to Lelthina. She didn’t make any observations about Lelthina’s state of undress. And being the governess’s handmaiden for the past twenty years, she undoubtedly knew about the affair that had begun the night before.

“You asked to see me first thing my lady. I figured to wait until your guest left,” Deliah said as she rose.

“There is no need to be coy. We both know that I was fucking in here,” Lelthina said as she slipped out of bed and slipped on her sheer robe once more. She glanced over at her handmaiden, as if first recognizing her attractiveness. Lelthina pondered then if there was something to be said for this corruption she’d heard about.

More, she pondered if it even mattered. She’d set her path, and corrupted or not she would see it through. Deliah didn’t acknowledge the eyes raking over her overtly, but she knew. She came forward.

“You’ve always preferred tact before my lady. If you rather I drop it I can. At least in private of course,” the woman said, and Lelthina wondered if the woman was utterly submissive, or just too damn loyal to even gather ambitions of her own.

“Drop it in private. Now, you know what you must do?” Lelthina said, walking with swaying hips to her table to recollect her glass of wine. Taking a slow sip she then moved to her desk and picked up a small scroll.

“Of course. I have also gathered the forged letters from Pharno. The letters will all be dispatched within the hour,” Deliah said, holding out her hand. Lelthina set the scroll into her handmaiden’s grip, and watched the woman bow again and turn to walk towards the door.

“Deliah. I want you to look into something for me,” she said then, and the handmaiden turned, an eyebrow raised with curiosity.

“If you can do it without Pharno knowing the better. But start looking into this cult of Morkate. Find out how many in the city worship her, and how quickly this cult is spreading. Both amongst elves and humans.”

The eyebrow levelled out and the handmaiden bowed once more without expression. As she left and let the door close behind her, Lelthina turned again to the window and looked out over the awakening city and took a long sip of her wine.

Corruption or not, she would wear the crown of Winterstone, and she would break the Coalition from within. And from the ashes she would rebuild, and the Kazdruk would find the true terror that could reside in the Elves.


Walking out through the open gates of Castle Volgras, Sarya lifted her head towards the sun. She breathed in the fresh air and closed her eyes, savouring the feel of it on her face. Lifting her hands, she ran fingertips from beneath her eyes and down her form. Feeling the tight leather tunic she’d been given by Lillium, the undersides of the cups looking as if they’d been slashed open, showing the soft underside of her breasts, curving slightly towards the centre. Hands down lower to the leather skirt hugging her hips and cut low in the rear to show the cleft of her ass.

It felt heavenly to be out of the dungeon finally. To be well fed and sexually satiated. A chamber to herself, and even a slave. Collared and currently cowering in the bed she was forced to share with Sarya. Isolde had wanted it, even as Sarya took a sexual vengeance upon the prostitute turned slave. Forgiveness had come, for Isolde had served Morkate well and in a way Sarya as well. But her plots and schemes still tasted of betrayal. And for it, the woman who wanted to be a slave had to be punished.

It was the old Goldulin way. The ways that had lifted the island people who worshipped Morkate into an empire that held sway over the world. Sarya had studied well as she rose to Centurion. And had seen how the worship of Oan had dimmed the ruthlessness that kept Goldulin in power. It was good to worship Morkate openly once again, out from the shadows of cult safe houses.

Opening her eyes, Sarya lowered her gaze and began to walk into the town built around the base of the castle. She had wanted to speak to Lillium to find their plans for the coming days, but the succubus was no where to be found. All she had was the concubine Rania telling her from the naked and tangled limbs of her sisters that their mistress had gone out in the morning. To where the vampiric concubine would not say.

So Sarya came to walk and explore the town. To see the helots drilling in the square under newly promoted commanders. Centurions Sarya had been told, to emulate the old empire. Their discipline was impressive for beasts that were meant to be nothing but pillagers, rapists, and cannon fodder for the Kazdruk war machine. Their movements crisp as shields snapped into positions and wicked blades readied. Sarya couldn’t wait to get back into drilling. There was much she could teach them.

There were humans around as well. Some slaves, shuffling with only loincloths, leather collars, and shackles around their wrists and ankles. Many tattooed on the back of their shoulder as well. But it seemed there were free folk as well. Morkate worshippers that had come to settle here believing the harbinger would take them from under the oncoming tyranny of the Kazdruk and save them from the scheming elves. Each of them wore cloth and leather garments that revealed plenty of skin. The place was actually looking like a proper town with the buzz of merchants, the ringing of forges, and the chatter of people moving about. The slaves shuffling with heads down and the citizens ignoring the soldiers as a part of life.

It reminded Sarya of home. Of the way it had been in the old days. She smiled, walking along the main street. She glanced into an alley to see a man thrusting into a slave he had pressed against the wall. She moaned in pleasure, but there was a look of fear in her eyes. The man was preventing her from completing her work, and gauging by the whip marks across her back, this was not the first time she had been late due to such circumstances.

The man glanced up, his pants around his thighs, his hips slapping against the woman’s rump. He noted Sarya watching and he offered a friendly smile and waved, as if everything was perfectly normal. The slave didn’t even call to Sarya for help. She knew her place. The centurion waved at the man and continued on her way, taking a winding route through back roads to get to the temple of Morkate.

On the west side she noted the pallisades and gates of a barracks compound. She stepped in through the front gates, the two helot guards saluting her as she walked between them. Within was a tall three story building that housed the garrison not stationed in the castle itself. In the flattened dirt of the courtyard were two dozen helot soldiers sparring with each other, their swords flashing. A few helots wearing crimson sashes walked around the outside, whips coiled in their hands as they watched and barked out corrections. Sarya watched a moment to take notes.

The helots were not using their shields enough. The shield was an extension to a Goldulin legionnaire, as important as the sword. She would have to start instilling that. She was pleased with those that seemed to be taking the role of Centurions though. Lillium and Lorth had done impressive things with the helots they had under their command. Skirting around the edge of the barracks courtyard, Sarya found herself at the forge. A helot stood shirtless over his anvil, pounding away at a rod of metal, slowly shaping it into one of the wicked looking swords of the helots.

He glanced up at Sarya, then turned his head over to a male slave dripping sweat. And cum along his thighs as well, and from the state of his walk Sarya guessed that the helot blacksmith had chosen this slave for more than his usefulness at the forge.

“Keep the fire hot you little shit. Get more wood in the flames, now. Or I’ll use this hammer to fuck your ass tonight instead of my cock,” the blacksmith snarled.

The look of fear in the slave’s eyes suggested the helot wasn’t joking. He ran to gather more wood and toss it into the flames, and began to pump on the bellows. As he worked his loincloth shifted and Sarya noted the small cage his cock was ensnared in. Stopping a few steps away from the forge, Sarya examined the rack of freshly made swords.

“Centurion. Good to see that you’re out of the dungeon,” he said, with a hint of respect. Sarya was still getting used to it from helots.

“Just taking a walk. Wanted to see what my future soldiers are using,” she said, the blacksmith stepped back, his powerful chest glistening with sweat as he indicated the racks of swords.

“Usual fare for our kind. Serrated blades to rip and tear with glee,” he said, almost laughing as he turned back.

“Stop making them serrated. Arrow heads sure, but not blades. Smooth edges, and a better point. It’ll make it easier to pull the blade free, and to kill more from there,” Sarya said, making sure to use the argument of more bloodshed to get her point across. The blacksmith looked at her, frowning. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Make two types of blades for each soldier. One to take pleasure from the kill, and one to simply kill. I need my soldiers efficient. And there will be more glory for it,” Sarya relented, and pursed her lips. It would take some work to get used to working with those that were once enemies. Those she had killed so many of as her nation had crumbled around her. “I’ll come by later. I have some plans that might interest you.”

The blacksmith closed his mouth and nodded, turning back to his work. The ring of the hammer on the red hot steel cutting out any further conversation. So Sarya turned and walked from the compound and started a quick line towards the temple.

She passed what looked like a brothel. The slaves here in better garb but clearly still slaves. They danced outside to entice visitors within, but some sat on the front porch nursing growing bellies, which seemed odd for a brothel. It clicked though when she took note of a helot leaving with a grin as he fixed his belt. It wasn’t a brothel, it was a breeding house.

That was something new to her. She looked ahead, moving through a street filled with merchants hawking their wares as free folk moved and shopped for their needs and wants. Slaves a common sight carrying crates or purchased goods for their masters.

Eventually though Sarya found herself walking through the doors of the Temple of Morkate, still in the process of being refurnished. Passing between a pair of statues of naked men and women entwined in lustful embraces, and past a few acolytes tending to the desires of a few worshippers, Sarya reached the door to Aela’s personal chambers. She knocked, and heard the priestess call for her to enter.

Opening the door and walking in, Sarya spotted the tattooed priestess standing at the foot of her bed holding a whip in one hand and a needle dripping black ink in the other. On the high priestess’s bed was an acolyte. Naked save a blindfold, and kneeling on all fours. She had her head forward, her hip and lower back already covered in the runes of Morkate that would mark her as a servant of the goddess of blood and lust.

“She has been most promising in her learnings thus far. I think she’ll make an excellent priestess. Of course, once we’re firmly established it will take more time to rise in rank, but we have to start somewhere,” Aela told the centurion, turning away from her task and dragging the tip of the whip over the naked woman’s rump. The acolyte moaned softly, but didn’t move even as Aela walked across the room to her desk.


“Yes,” Sarya said, savouring the view of the acolyte before joining Aela at her desk. Taking a goblet she sipped softly, and winced.

“I know. Not very good. I’ll have to get a barrel of something better next time. Still, it is wine, sour it may be. But you’re not here to talk wine,” Aela said, smirking and taking a long gulp. “Or stare at pretty women. You have a whore all to yourself for that I hear.”

“I’ve come to talk about my turning.”

“Of course you have. Tired of hiding and eager to serve your goddess. And without being turned, the Harbinger won’t let you leave the village.”

“No, she won’t. And she’s not here at the moment. So, when is it happening? And what do I have to do to prepare?”

“Tonight, and nothing. I’ll explain everything at the ceremony, but I’m ready finally. You’ll be joining the honoured ranks of Morkate’s chosen. To deliver her swift vengeance upon the world. And of course… I believe the Harbinger has a mission specifically for you,” Aela said, gesturing to a pair of open tomes on the desk. One written in Kazdruk, the other was in Aela’s hand; her own grimoire of stolen knowledge.

“Special mission? I was told I was going to be tr-,” a finger pressed to Sarya’s lips to cut her off. It tasted vaguely of ink and wine, with just a hint of a woman’s cunt.

“You’ll discover when you need to,” Aela said, then leaned in. Her bared breasts crushing against Sarya’s leather clad ones.

Their bodies pressed tightly together, Aela leaned up to whisper in Sarya’s ear. But she nibbled and licked to make it look like teasing to an outsider.

“We may be being watched. Until I find out more about this Niseht, we must be careful,” Aela said so quietly she was scarcely heard.

Sarya nodded though, and the high priestess peeled off her.

“I’ll see you tonight Centurion. You’ll be closer than ever to the Goddess then.”


Three wooden carriages were being pulled down the road by teams of horses. In front and behind of each one a small group of soldiers marched with their spear tips glistening in the sun. Thaden watched them come closer to his position, and that of fifty other insurgents. Many of them holding tight to cross bows of stolen swords. One of two ambushes to happen today. Kira’s little resistance group was still growing as refugees set up tents in the camp deep in the woods. Now there were enough fighters for more than one attack, and while Kira led one further to the north, Thaden was entrusted with this one.

The one coming from Volgras he noted. Kira’s behaviour was growing increasingly odd of late, and he was growing more concerned. Ever since she’d fought her sister, she’d been growing distant.

“Those are humans,” someone whispered, pulling Thaden from his thoughts. He blinked and looked at the enemy soldiers dressed in Kazdruk armour, and was surprised to find the observation correct. The enemy guarding the carriages were indeed human.

“Doesn’t matter. They serve the Kazdruk, so they are the enemy. Remember, those carriages are full of supplies for the Kazdruk raiders in the north. We take them out, we make it easier to root those bastards out,” Thaden said, glancing at those under him. He saw heads nodding, and faces full of grim determination.

Turning back towards the small column he raised his hand. Watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The better the moment, the less people he would lose.

The first carriage rolled past him, the wheels creaking slightly. He did another count of the enemy soldiers. Thirty in total. They looked tired as well. Perfect.

When the second carriage came just before him, Thaden dropped his hand. A flurry of crossbow bolts flew out into the road. Eleven soldiers were immediately killed, the bolts punching through their armour and piercing flesh. As they fell to the ground, the remainder panicked. Some tried to turn and raise their shields to face the attackers while others dropped their weapons and ran.

Insurgents leapt up from their cover on the other side of the road. In silence they charged the soldiers facing away from them and smashed into their lines. With axe, club, and sword they hacked and bashed at the enemy. Screams filled the air as the soldiers panic increased. Those standing to fight turned to try and defend themselves as Thaden led his first half out from the woods. A quiet run, and they entered the melee.

The twangs of crossbows sounded as the runners were shot down as they fled. Their bodies dropping onto the road with bolts sticking from their backs.

Just like that, it was over. The ambush successful. Not a single Kazdruk loyal human left standing, and from a quick count only one of his had fallen. Gutted by a wild swipe of a spear. The man might yet live if he got proper medical attention. Wiping blood from his own sword, Thaden glanced at the carriages.

“Let’s get this done quick. Steal the horses too,” he said, before frowning as he knelt by a body.

He pried a helmet off one corpse and looked down at a face frozen in fear, with a leather collar secured tightly around his neck. His insurgents were already reaching to open the carriages when it dawned on him what had happened. Far too late.

The sides of the carriages opened, and bolts shot out from them. A dozen fell dead, a few more screaming as they grasped at their wounds. Armoured helots burst out from the carriages, swords drawn and already swinging, cleaving into the men and women that had just ambushed them. The trap had been perfectly laid.

Then a scream, and Thaden’s head turned to the front carriage. His eyes widened as a woman’s head was lopped from her shoulders in a spray of blood, and his blood ran cold as he saw the killer.

Lillium was grinning, blood running across her face, dripping down into her cleavage as she moved across the killing ground. Her body twisted, and sword dancing as insurgents tried to get to her. A crossbow bolt punched through a wing, and the succubus groaned before she flicked an axe into her hand with the toe of her boot. With a quick throw, the crossbow man fell back, the axe splitting his skull in two.

The succubus moved toward, ducking beneath a high swing with a sword. Her wings shot out wife, knocking two insurgents to the ground. As she rose, she slashed upwards. Her blade cut the man’s leg off at the thigh. His scream of pain cut short as the return swing came down on his falling form. Biting through his neck and severing another head. A woman rushed Lillium, only to have a set of claws grasp her throat. With a quick pull of her arm, Lillium ripped out the woman’s neck. Blood sprayed across the smiling succubus, who ignored the falling body to thrust her blade into a man’s gut. Thaden watched the tip emerge from the small of his back, blood dripping from the black sword. Before the image even fully sank into his mind, the sword twisted and swung out wide. The man fell, clutching at his entrails as a nearby insurgent’s arm was severed at the elbow. The limb landing in the dirt, and the wounded man stabbed through the chest by a helot.

Thaden couldn’t move. He could only stare. Fear clutching him as his forced was slaughtered all around him. Blood soaking into the road, and those left alive fled into the forest. There was no silence this time, Thaden could hear crashing trees as they ran as fast as they could from the blood thirsty monster that was their leader’s sister.

“Let them run,” Lillium commanded, and the pursuing helots stopped before they even got to the woodline.

Thaden was all alone. He dropped his sword, knowing it was fruitless to try and fight. He turned and stared at Lillium as she approached, trying not to stare at the blood of friends and comrades that ran into her cleavage.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t even pause. Her sword ran through him, snapping his bottom few ribs and opening his lung. Gasping for breath he tasted blood in his mouth. He gasped for breath as Lillium pulled him closer. Dragging him along her sword. Feeling it sink in deeper and cut his lungs open further. Crimson froth bubbled at his lips as she clutched his back and held him against her alluring form. Feeling the hard metal of her corset, and the softness of her cleavage against his chest. Her hand gliding sensually along his back as she leaned in. Her lips at his cheek, his ear. The tongue gliding along the shell of it.

“Should you get to your heaven. Tell Oan I’ll come for him someday,” she said as Thaden bled out in her arms.

Then she bit him. Her fangs sinking into his neck, his blood pumping into her mouth as she groaned against his skin. Her tongue teasing him, and in his shame, Thaden felt his cock stirring in that moment. Hardening in his pants until he felt it touching her thigh, his hips almost involuntarily grinding against her leg. She twisted her sword in his chest and continued to feast until life had fled his body.

Pulling her fangs back, Lillium pushed the man off her sword and watched it hit the ground. She stared at him, slowly licking her lips.

“Almost would have been worth it to fuck him first,” she purred, putting a boot on his chest, letting her heel sink into his sternum.

A nearby helot glanced at her in confusion, but Lillium didn’t bother to explain herself. Instead, standing above her sister’s lover, she swiped her sword in a downwards arc and severed his head. Grasping it by the hair she stood, resting her sword on her shoulder. Glancing both ways down the road, she looked at the piles of bodies. Near sixty dead men and women lay around her. Their blood soaking into the earth beneath her feet. She felt thirsty, and horny, and felt so good to be free of the spire again.

Picking up a spear she jammed Thaden’s head onto its point, and planted her trophy on the side of the road.

“Mutilate the others,” Lillium commanded, and her helots roared out in blood lust, and they fell upon the dead with descending blades.

The baroness of Volgras watched it all, savouring the sight. She knew it would be difficult to find Kira out there in the wilderness. But perhaps, she could make Kira come to her. With a slight smile she took one of the horses, and mounted it, and waited for her soldiers to complete their grisly task.


The elf known as Voryna stretched her arms as she awoke. Though, Aeltha couldn’t quite call her an elf anymore. The former slave rose from her slumber and yawned, showing her new canines. Her fingertips exploring her new horns. The other elf that she had been experimenting upon, Bryla, turned over as she started to awake shortly after. The high sorceress grinned as she watched the beautiful creatures, her own pair of slaves near drooling as the new born succubi stirred and rose.

The first successful Elven succubi, and no vampire blood. Pure Kazdruk corruption flowing through their veins, and willingly accepted. Offers of pleasantries and an escape from the tortures of the slave cells had been enough. They had been willing to give anything to get out from the daily routine of rape and beatings.

Now they were more Kazdruk than Elven, and Aeltha thought she might have finally perfected the succubus formula. Or at least, the succubi that would control her ferals. They started to coo and purr as their senses came to them, their hands starting to explore each other, their lips eagerly looking to taste and tease the other. Small little nibbles drawing increasingly lustful groans. Aeltha watched the pair, who were clearly aware they were being watched. Their red eyes veined with blue darting over to glance at their audience.

“Aren’t they excellent?” Aeltha told the corrupted elvish twins that served as her servants and slaves. She was careful not to use the word perfect again. Not until all the testing was complete.

“Yes mistress,” the twins purred, moving closer together as they watched the succubi, their own hands started to caress each other. Something Aeltha made note of, even as her cock stirred. So she moved forward, resisting the temptation to take all four of them right now.

Instead she snapped her fingers, and gestured with her hand for the two new succubi to rise. Vornya and Bryla both got to their feet, their hands holding each other, breasts crushed together. Their cheeks rubbing against one another as they stared at Aeltha.

“How might we serve Mistress?” they said as one, their words mixing together into a sweet song.

“A final test, of your capabilities. And a theory I have,” Aeltha said, guiding the two to her hidden door, and opening it to the chamber of pillars and clinking chains. At the far end, seen only as a shifting shadow, Neicul awaited. His growls rumbling in his throat. For he stared at two elven slaves, chained to a wall. Gagged so they could not scream, or help throw in a variable to Aeltha’s experiment.

For the one chained upon the left, after some promises, had agreed to undergo the transformation to succubus. To become something better than Elf. The one on the right though had somehow managed to hold onto her defiance. She would even now be pulling against her chains had her wrists not been rubbed raw by metal shackles, and her exhausted flesh failed her. It was very near time to set Neicul free in his prison. To see which of the two he murdered.

“Get my little pet in there to kill the one on the right,” Aeltha told Bryla and Voryna.

“At once mistress,” they purred together, slipping into the chamber without any fear. Both slaves lifted their heads as the succubi entered the chamber. Both recognized them from a previous life. The left one, the one that might well join them, looked on with envy. The other was in shock, and hurt. Of course she did though, Voryna and Bryla had betrayed her, and her kin.

The freshly born succubi though ignored their former kin. Instead moving into the shadows as the doors shut behind them. Pale torchlight flickering into life to illuminate the way as Aeltha watched from her green orb. As the succubi approached, Aeltha firmly guided the face of one of her body slaves down towards her crotch.

Voryna came to Neicul first, purring at him, calming him. Her hand gliding along the cock that had been left exposed since it plunged into Lillium’s cunt. Voryna though gently stroked it, then pressed herself to his chest, whispering into his ear.

All the while Aeltha was able to enjoy soft lips on her own thick cock. Sliding further down along her shaft until the cock greedy whore had much of it down her throat. Her twin sister giggled, sliding to her own knees to aid. Letting Aeltha watch the show. To see every act the two succubi made, and more importantly, the reaction Neicul had to them.

He seemed confused a moment. Head twitching between the two as they sandwiched him. Whispering in his ear. Both stroking his cock and fondling his balls as they ground themselves against him. Their lips spilling the poison honey of their wishes into his ear. The target for him to kill. Precum dribbled over their hands already, and Neicul seemed agitated.

The feral beast that was once Yuldasha’s brother pulled against his chains, but neither succubi relented. It took a moment for Aeltha to realize that Neicul was not trying to get at the temptresses caressing him. He was glaring at the two elves.

It was time. Her fingers traced along her scrying orb, and sparking traces of magic sunk into the glass. Soon coursing along the chains that held her pet. The shackles fell from his limbs, and his neck. The beast glanced down at them for but a second. Long enough for the two succubi to slip away from him.

Then he roared. Furious, full of primal rage. Neicul charged across the chamber, ignoring the dangling chains that struck his shoulders. His feet pounded, and Aeltha felt her heart beating in her chest as she stared. She dared not to let herself hope. No, she just watched as the distance between Feral Kazdruk and bound elves shrunk. Both of them now in a panic as the raging beast closed in upon them. Thrashing in their shackles, blood starting to trickle from wrists and ankles.

Neicul grabbed the resistant elf by the neck. Her eyes wide for a moment before Neicul yanked her from the wall. Through the orb, Aeltha heard the crunch of bones as one shoulder was dislocated, and a thumb pulled off as the hand was forced through the shackle. Neicul stared a moment, confused why his prey did not come to him. So he kept pulling, and screams filled the room.

Screams of agony from the spirited elf being pulled off the wall. And terror from the woman beside her, watching this all take place right beside her, not sure if she was to be next.

Neicul roared and screamed in fury, and gave up trying to free the elf. Instead, turning to smashing her head against the wall while the succubi slowly approached from behind. Letting their pet do his messy work. Again and again the head was smashed against the thick stone, soon leaving smears of crimson every time it was pulled away. Soon enough clumps of once beautiful hair, before the skull broke apart.

Standing there, gripping a naked slave’s corpse in his hands, Neicul finally stopped. He was staring at the mush that was once a head. Now just bits of bone and gore. He let go, the body flopping, hanging by one dislocated arm. A grotesque puddle of blood and bits of brain beneath her.

The succubi moved in then. Their hands pulling him away. Congratulating him on being such a good boy. The still living slave stopped screaming, though she stared at her comrade with wide eyes. Aeltha grinned at the success. So they could be controlled then. She leaned her head back and let out a moan, her cum gushing down the throat of one body slave.

The high sorceress looked down at her body slaves.

“Time to fetch me some more prisoners. We have work to do,” was all she told them.

Within the chamber, the succubi had mounted Neicul, their backs to one another. One riding his cock, the other straddling his face. Moaning up to the ceiling as their hips moved, shoulder blades rubbing together.

Beneath them, Neicul revelled in the delights of the flesh.


One of Velkra’s signallers put a war horn to his lips. Standing stark naked on the piece of wall they had captured, he grasped his hard cock and blew into the horn. The sound carried outwards even as his hips thrust towards the waiting humans. Velkra’s talon all began to stomp their feet or the butts of halberds on the stone they had taken from the humans.

Velkra did not intend to push further inwards, into the woods. She intended to sweep along the wall, taking more and more of it, broadening the breach she had made so that the other talons and their helots could swarm into the forest and slay any who remained.

She grinned, holding her warscythe at her side. Down on the beach more Kazdruk warriors whipped their helots into a frenzy, pushing them forward to take the wall.

“Let’s see who spills more blood today,” Velkra said, and her warriors yelled out as they built themselves into a frenzy. She gestured forwards, and the Kazdruk tore through the barricade they had erected. Corpses, discarded armour, and bits of debris tumbling off the wall as the Kazdruk charged along its length.

It felt good to feel the adrenaline of coming battle again. Her teeth bared in a wild grin as her braids trailed behind her. To feel the grip of a weapon in her hand again, to know that soon she would be spilling blood, and fucking taken slaves. It had been far too long wallowing in the Spire.

Their roars filled the air as they hefted their weapons, running towards the next juncture. Even from here Velkra could see the terror in the human sentries, raising their crossbows to fire into the charging masses. They seemed confused as to where to fire, whether at the talon coming at them from the flank, or the helots rushing up the beach.

Too confused. Velkra frowned, not hearing shouted orders. No human who thought he was in command. Trying to be heard above the fear. It was just the sentries. She slowed, brows furrowing further as she assessed what she saw and heard before her.

The helots were dropping to the few crossbows, but not as many as there should have been. And she had only seen a single of her own warriors fall. They crashed into the second barricade. The one the humans had made from logs, lashings and crude spikes. It did nothing to slow the hulking kazdruk, who tore it down with barely a pause. The Helots even were already scaling the walls. The humans were breaking and running.

It was too easy.

“Halt. Stop!” Velkra screamed.

A few looked back at her. Confused, even with drool running from their lips. Some didn’t hear, but most of her talon managed to stop themselves. Velkra’s eyes darted from the scaling helots to the wood line. The woodline she saw the humans starting to gather in. Collecting themselves.

They hadn’t broken.

“Off the walls. Get off the walls,” Velkra screamed, the first to rush to the edge and leap off towards the last tuft of grass before it all turned to sand.

Her talon glanced amongst each other, but Velkra was their commander until someone challenged her and won. So they followed, jumping off the wall as the helots sneered, and their kazdruk handlers mocked them loudly. A few of Velkra’s warriors either didn’t hear or ignored her, and pushed further along, and started to leap towards the other side.

On the sands again, Velkra’s talon looked amongst each other in confusion, then to Velkra in anger. She led them further downwards. Towards the lapping waters and the old helot barricades they had hid behind for months. Their blood still boiling, eager to see combat. To see violence, and claim spoils.

“Why do we run from the fight? The humans were cowering, fleeing like their little virgin wenches,” one dared to say, and Velkra resisted the temptation to kill him. Instead she crouched, and looked towards the wall.

“Because they did not cower. They lured,” Velkra said. The insubordinate warrior frowned, spat on the ground and took a single step before a deafening explosion shook the ground. The warriors were thrown to the ground in heaps.

Velkra though saw it all. See the ball of fire that rose upwards from beneath the humans’ wall. Saw the mortar and stone break apart into chunks as they were ripped up into the air. Helots and Kazdruk alike did not have a chance to scream as their bodies, or pieces of them, were thrown across the beach. Dirt, rock, blood, bone, and chunks of flesh fell from the sky.

In the aftermath, came the groaning of Kazdruk wounded. Helots and purebloods crawling in the mess of the wall. Velkra looked at her warriors who stared in stunned silence. Further down the beach, they all heard another explosion. Then another. Growing ever more distant.

“Cowards,” one of the warriors said, rising to her feet with halberd in hand.

“Smart. How much of this invasion force will be left now? After months of trying to take it, they have taken it from us,” Velkra said, peering through the smoke and dust. From within she heard groans cut violently short. She looked to the others.

“We go forward quietly. They are killing the wounded. We counter their counter attack,” she said, and placed a finger to her lips.

Her talon nodded, and gripped their weapons again. They started to rush forward again. This time there were no war cries. No threats or beating of weapons. They stayed hunched, avoiding anything on the ground that might cause noise. The sand beneath their sands scarcely a whisper.

The smoke was just starting to settle when they entered. Passing chunks of the dead, and seeing some buried beneath the debris. They began to see shapes ahead though. Dark shadows in the brown of the dust. A line of them starting to become more solid. Soon the glint of armour seen.

“Hey, ther-” Velkra took the first kill, the man ripped open groin to shoulder by her scythe, his leather armour unable to even try to stop it. Now her talon shouted. Now they yelled. Now the panic in the humans was not a ruse. They did not expect many survivors. Did not expect organized resistance. The line was already crumbling as the talon smashed into it.

Steel and fist flared and sliced and smashed. New screams filled the air as the humans desperately tried to peel back to get themselves organized. But now the Kazdruk were angry. Furious. And now they were getting their taste of blood as they ravaged their way into the human line.

One man was standing his ground, blade in hand and smeared in blood. Two kazdruk already lay lifeless at his feet, and Velkra watched him duck beneath an axe swung at his head. His sword slashed upwards taking the warrior at the wrist. She screamed out, and kicked him in the chest sending him flying backwards.

The man hadn’t expected that, and was gasping for breath as the amputated kazdruk warrior rushed towards him. Ripping off her loincloth to show a hardening cock as blood pumped out from the stump at her wrist. The man on his back struggled to get his breath back, fumbling for the sword at his side. But the warrior stomped on his forearm with a cloven hoof.

He screamed now, feeling the bones snapping and grinding together. Drool spattered on his face as the kazdruk gripped him by the back of his open faced helmet and shoved her cock into his mouth. With balls slapping against her chin she thrust hard into him. Fucking his throat as he gagged and sobbed around the thick meat plunging in and out of his mouth.

When she pulled free the man was coughing up cum, spattering it across his chest and face. But she wasn’t done and soon had him flipped over onto his belly, tearing away at his breeches, and pistoning herself into his rear. He screamed in agony as he was ravaged.

Velkra moved past the scene, her war scythe spinning and lopping off a woman’s leg, before crushing her skull underfoot so she could behead one of her comrades. The blood sprayed across her arms, as she lunged to the side. The blade of her scythe opening a man’s guts. He took another few stumbling steps, tangling his entrails around his legs before falling to a dying heap in what was quickly turning into a quagmire of bloody mud.

Now the humans were running, many of them tossing away weapons or bits of armour to try and run faster. Velkra stood over the corpse of a man clutching a crossbow that had already been loosed. Sweat was beaded on her skin, streaked through with blood and gore. Bits of grit and mud stuck to her, and her breasts heaved as she breathed it all in.

“Don’t follow,” she called to her warriors. This time, even smeared in blood, they listened attentively. Not one ran after the fleeing humans. Velkra smirked. The move had been smart for the humans, but they had accidentally solidified her command over the talon.

“Gather any who live, we go back to where we were. Establish camp and prepare for the next attack,” Velkra said.

She listened to her warriors moving amongst the dead and dying. Killing those that could not be saved. Velkra turned back to look at the amputated warrior. She was slumped over her victim, passed out from blood loss. Her cock still buried in his ass. The man cried quietly to himself, cum smeared over his lips, and dribbling over his balls to the ground.

At her feet she heard a groan of pain. She looked down to see a kazdruk pureblood. One of those that had mocked her talon and led his helots into a trap. There was little left of him below the rib cage. She smirked down at him, placing the tip of her spear against his neck. He tilted his head back, and with a quick swipe, Velkra opened his throat and watched him bleed out.

“Get me a runner. We need to see what has happened along the beach,” she called out, already walking back to where her camp would be established once more.


Looking down from the top of the hill, Layli saw just an open field littered with long dead skeletons. She looked over at the scout beside her. There were no carrion birds anymore. The flesh had long been picked clean from the dead. Looters had taken anything of value. All that was left was bleached bones covered in some tattered and rotted strips of cloth. The eternal grins of the abandoned skulls left to stare at sky or dirt.

“The map says this is the Atzgol Plains,” he said, tapping at leather tube at his hip. “According to the reports, this is where the Cozlac clan fell.”

Layli nodded slowly. What might have once been beautiful fields of lush green was now a wasteland of Kazdruk corruption. Their influence seeping into the earth and showing in the skies above. She couldn’t even begin to count the skeletons laying down there below. Glancing over her shoulder she saw the rising dust of the Warhost moving northwards, still a few hours behind. To the east on a hill that overlooked the plains, was a simple looking chapel. To Oan likely. Something worth examining.

When her eyes moved forward again she noted something else in the middle of the field. She frowned, thinking it a skeleton on its knees. But it was hard to tell.

“What is that?” she asked, already urging her horse forward. The scout beside her frowned.

“I don’t know.”

The pair of them rode down to the edge of the battlefield and dismounted. They had no wish to upset the spirits of the dead that may be trapped in this tragic field. Leaving their horses snorting and pawing at the seemingly lifeless earth, scout and shawrapaht moved ahead towards the battlefield’s centre. They picked their way carefully between the scattered dead, feeling wind and dust buffet their forms as they proceeded deeper.

Eventually they came upon what looked to be a shrine. A spear was planted in the ground and surrounded by carefully placed kazdruk and helot skulls. A human skeleton was placed on the spear, the skull covering the bladed tip. Layli stared up at it, frowning.

“This doesn’t seem like a shrine to Oan,” the scout said quietly, and Layli nodded.

“Or Kazdruk. Why would they put their own skulls around the base of it? The human’s almost seems revered here.”

“Something new then?”

“Maybe. But for who?”

“What are we marching into Layli?” the scout had a hint of fear in his voice as he spoke. Staring upwards still at the shrine, his arms wrapped around himself.

“We’ll find out. Come let’s examine that chapel,” Layli said, starting to pick her way across the battlefield again.

The scout stared at the shrine for a few more moments before following. Their horses trailing around the edges. Dust carried in the wind swirled around their boots as they left the battlefield finally and started climbing towards the chapel. Even here there was the occasional bone or arrow shaft stuck into the ground. An old path was mostly obscured by blowing dust and lack of care.

As they approached the chapel, they noted the dirt smeared across the stained glass windows. The dried blood stains on the stones and in the oaken doors. Layli frowned, putting her hand against the door, the other falling to the hilt of her blade. She pushed, hearing the hinges protest as the door swung inwards.

A man in a priest’s robes knelt before the altar, his head bowed. Whispering quietly to himself in the gloom of the chapel. The tall candles around him had long since turned to nothing more than hardened wax caught dribbling down the wrought iron sticks. The pews filling the small structure covered in a layer of dust with cobwebs stretched between them.

Slowly letting her fingers relax, Layli moved forward with the scout staying by the doorway. The priest tilted his head slightly, before finally looking back over his shoulder. He was emaciated, and dark circles sagged under his eyes. With cracked lips he tried to speak.

“Do the demons finally come for my soul, or are you Oan’s angels sent to end my misery?” he said, voice raspy. He coughed hard after speaking, and Layli squatted just beside him. Watching him, seeing the way his robes hung loosely from his form.

“Neither. We are of the Scytar, we’re here to kill Kazdruk,” Layli told him, and he laughed. A dry sound that just left him coughing again, spittle flecking his lips once he recovered.

“To the sea you should go. They all come from there. Raping and enslaving, burning and conquering. But you are fools to go up there… Del Helshan is all but lost. The devil Morkate rises again. Her influence seeps out from the cracks in the world and good people find themselves twisted and perverse. Oan is dying,” he all but screamed the words out before doubling over, coughing again.

When he sat up, looking at Layli with bloodshot eyes, he reached for her. Grasped her hands.

“All will be lost, and the damned will rule whatever rubble is left.”

Layli looked over at the scout as the priest continued to scream. The man standing by the door shook his head and turned to leave. Wind blew dust into the chapel from where he left the doors open, his form quickly vanishing beyond the crest of the hill.

Layli stood. She didn’t think the man would give her much more in way of answers. He had prostrated himself on the floor, drooling now as he screamed onto the tiles his knees had kept clear of dust. The occasional sob breaking through his increasingly incoherent shouts.

She had taken four steps when he lifted himself up again.

“Please,” he muttered, and Layli turned to regard him. A trail of snot running from his left nostril, his eyes bloodshot and downcast. She stood there, looking at the pitiful sight.

“Send me to Oan. I cannot bring myself to face Morkate’s servants again… I pray you are stronger than I,” he said finally looking up at her.

Taking hold of her blade, Layli raised an eyebrow, slowly pulling the sword free. The man’s lips twisted in something like a smile, his head leaning back to expose his neck.

“Are you sure this is what you want? We can take you with us,” Layli said, gesturing with her chin towards the open doorway. In the distance the dust clouds of the approaching warband were steadily encroaching.

The man just shook his head, still staring at the ceiling.

“I am broken in spirit as much as body and mind. I cannot bring myself to fight. I want to see what lies beyond, to know that there is hope for this world. Because I just can’t see it anymore.”

Layli nodded, keeping her thoughts to herself. Sword raised she approached the kneeling priest, and brought the blade down.


Standing on the dais beside the altar to Morkate, Lillium looked over the desecrated church of Oan. Now a temple to Morkate. The succubus was clad only in a cloak of black and red lace, hanging open at the front and exposing her pale skin. She stared at the doors as the opened, and the free folk of Volgras began to stream into their place of prayer. All of them, rich and poor alike, clad in simple grey robes that they discarded into a chaotic heap near the entrance.

Naked and smiling they moved forward towards the dais. Each of them prostrating themselves before the harbinger of their newly found Goddess. More and more streaming in as Lillium watched them all. She let her tongue slither along her lips as her claws glided over Viviane’s scalp, feeling her thick locks running between her fingers. Felt the whore’s breasts against her thighs, her tongue teasing at the glistening folks of her cunt while the former knight moaned softly.

As the temple began to fill, the front few rows began to look over each other. Hands started to drift, touching bared skin. Man, woman, it didn’t matter as the collected lust of them began to gather and build. Lillium smiled, before her eyes caught Mia at the other end of the stage. She wore only a skirt on her tattooed form, and held an ornate box with gold hinges in her hands. The acolyte stared straight ahead, but chewed gently on her lower lip. Watching Viviane’s lapping tongue.

Then the back doors opened and the two last figures entered. Aela, wearing only a mask of lace that obscured the upper portion of her face. Her eyes were surrounded with thick kohl, blending with the mask, and her painted lips curled in a sensual smile as she walked to the altar.

“People of Volgras, you are gathered to feel the touch of Morkate. You are gathered to see one of her chosen emerge from the flesh of her long faithful servant,” the priestess said, raising her arms into the air as a naked Sarya stepped around her and lay upon her back atop the altar.

People watched the collection of beautiful women, their curious hands becoming more bold. Grasping and groping one another as their eyes drank in the flesh on display before them. The smell of such closely pack bodies already starting to overpower the incense Aela had her novices and acolytes light earlier. Its smoke rising to the ceiling, trailing the aphrodisiac through the chamber. Making the followers of the Dark Goddess flush as fingers wrapped around cocks. As breasts were firmly grasped and fondled.

“See her display herself, ready to accept the pleasures of Morkate,” Aela purred, gesturing to Lillium, who gently pushed Viviane towards the edge of the dais. The whore looked up at her mistress, who gave her the slightest of smirks. Unwilling to disappoint her mistress, perhaps even afraid to, Viviane smiled and slithered off the dais.

“Join her in her lust, her pleasure,” Aela continued, moving around to Sarya’s head, starting to remind Lillium of her own corruption. Her own rebirth. The succubus smiled, brows furrowed into an expression menacing and sensual. Dark claws ran along Sarya’s thigh, and the soldier let out a soft gasp as her legs parted. Lillium, still in her cloak of lace knelt down between her legs, and pressed her lips to Sarya’s opening. Tasting her as Lillium let her tongue push inside the woman before her.

Now Sarya moaned, feeling the harbinger inside her. And the people of the audience began to grind against one another. Not caring who it was. Feeling bared flesh against their own as Aela moved around to stand above Sarya’s head. The centurion could smell the tartness of the priestess, and soon felt it on her lips.

Before hundreds of people the priestess leaned downwards. Her hair mingling with Lillium’s as the harbinger thrust her tongue deeper and curled in within. The priestess let her lips and tongue tease along Sarya’s stomach, as her hips pressed downwards. Grinding against an increasingly eager mouth. Feeling a skilled tongue gliding along the petals of her entrance. Making her moan against the hard ridged skin of a soldier’s abs.

The audience was starting to plunge fingers inside one another. Their moans starting to raise in volume as their bodies twisted together. Lips finding each other, or finding breasts of flat chests. Mouths wrapping around cocks, and tongues plunging into cunts much like upon the dais. The smell of sex beginning to fully mingle with the incense. The sounds of it all rising higher. Filling Lillium’s ears as she shifted her gaze. Staring upwards along Sarya’s hardened form, and into Aela’s half concealed face.

Slowly Lillium rose upwards as she noted Mia moving. The High Priestess of Morkate sat upwards as well. Her hips grinding downwards, juices flowing over Sarya’s lips. Dribbling along her cheeks and down her tongue. The centurion moaned in pleasure, and whined as Lillium’s tongue pulled away though the sound was muffled by the priestess.

Mia walked forward, slow and sensual, feeling many eyes upon her. Though many were now closed or turning to look to whatever lover they’d found. The acolyte opened the box, revealing a leather harness and a dildo fashioned from the severed cock of the executed Kazdruk warrior. Lillium stared at the toy, even as Mia began to fasten the straps of the harness around her mistresss’s thighs and hips.

Pressing a firm kiss to Lillium’s navel, letting her tongue glide over it, Mia slid the dildo through a thick metal ring, small little spikes clamping into it, holding it tight. The succubus rose, feeling te attention bathed upon her. She glanced, seeing Viviane staring with awe at her mistress, while a woman kissed her neck and stroked her clit. The lust in the room was palpable, and the centurion upon the altar squirmed with her need.

The Baroness of Volgras stepped forward, her hips gliding along the insides of Sarya’s thighs. The bottom tips of her wings dragging along Sarya’s sides. Feeling the hardness of her abs, her ribs. The succubus grinned, watching the centurion. Watching her body writhe upon now warm stone, her hands gripping the curves of Aela’s ass. Fingers squeezing in tight as she let her tongue delve deep into the priestess, the priestess who let her moans carry through the temple.

Teasing the woman beneath her with the tip of her strap on, Lillium watched her continuing the squirm.

“Take her harbinger. You have showed us of Morkate’s sensuality. Show us her power,” the priestess said, the words nearly a moan.

Thrusting forward, Lillium filled Sarya’s cunt with the Kazdruk formed dildo. Sarya’s back arched, her muffled moan pouring into Aela’s pussy. Claws clutching at Sarya’s hips, thin trails of crimson starting to seep down, Lillium built up a hard fast pace. She couldn’t hear the sounds of it though. Not above the rising moans as the followers who watched began to fuck each other in time with Lilium’s hard thrusts. Viviane herself feeling a cock pushing itself into her ass. Her mouth opening in a long moan as she watched her mistress ravage the woman who had sent her here in another life.

The smell of sex flooded the room. The moans of hundreds forming a choir of lust. Hands smacked against flesh, as other felt themselves penetrated. So many twisted with each other. Contorting in lust and whatever positions they could manage. A sea of bared flesh glistening with sweat. Through it all, knowing only half the eyes were upon her now, Lillium ravaged her former enemy. Watched her breasts bounce from each hard thrust. Watched her fingers curling in an almost desperate clutch of Aela’s ass.

Long lines of blood ran along Sarya’s hips to her thighs as the baroness continued to fuck her, savouring the feel of her dildo crushing against her clit. Enjoying the delicious view before her as she listened to hundreds of moans filling her ear. Neighbours fucked each other, emptying their seed over their skin and inside one another. Cum began to smear across breasts and faces. Men and women tasting the release of lovers, feeling the sticky heat on their skin as the harbinger continued to ravage the new chosen of Morkate.

Climbing off of Sarya’s face, Aela moaned softly, licking her lips, her thighs glistening from her arousal, and at least one orgasm. She moved to stand at the head of the altar, letting Sarya’s moans pour upwards towards the ceiling. Her eyes were closed, even as she tried to lean back to get the taste of the priestess again. Lillium grinned at the slight, thrusting hard into her.

“Morkate gives us pleasure, and we must give her blood in turn,” Aela called out, picking up a knife from Mia’s box as a naked helot walked onto the stage. His hard cock swaying with each step, body covered in tattoos to Morkate.

He positioned himself near Mia’s head, pressing the tip of his cock to Sarya’s lips, and began to push himself inwards. The centurion eagerly opened her mouth, letting the cock push deep. Lillium’s hard thrusts forcing her to take more. Her throat starting to bulge as it entered her throat, that invading cock quickly getting slathered in thick saliva.

Grasping Sarya’s hand, Aela pulled in away from the helot’s body. The centurion did not resist, screaming around the cock in her throat as Lillium continued to fuck her. Bubbles of spit forming around the base of the cock shoved between her clamped lips.

Fingers gliding along Sarya’s forearm, Aela brought the knife downwards, pressing gently to the skin.

“Take this offering of the blood of your warrior lustful Morkate. Take her life, and fill her with your power. Your desire, and your rage,” she said, slipping the knife into the skin. There was a slight garbled groan of pain that was drowned out by the chorus of moans and grunts that filled the temple. The orgy in full swing. Lillium let herself glance downwards to find Viviane on her knees, riding a man’s cock as another fucked her mouth and throat, a woman licking at her breasts.

The succubus smirked, turning back to Sarya. Seeing her pale now as Aela dragged the knife downwards. Blood spilled outwards from the cut, dripping off her fingertips. People in the orgy began to bite and scratch. More grunts and squeals of pain mixed with the sounds of pleasure. But no one wanted out. Lost to their own needs, and the needs of whoever was next to them. Uncaring who they took to themselves.

Lillium leaned downwards. Felt her breasts pressing to Sarya’s own. The succubus let her tongue glide along Sarya’s lips, feeling her body weakening beneath her. She licked the cock plunging into the centurion’s throat. Tasting the thick spit that washed it.

Then she worked downwards, kissing and letting her fangs drag across the skin.

Then the succubus bit downwards. Felt her fangs pierce skin, and Sarya moaned, feeling more of her essence fading from her veins. Lillium feasted, feeling the blood sliding over her lips, along her tongue, and down her throat. All the while still fucking. Ravaging the dying woman beneath her.

Rising again, Lillium starred down at the woman beneath her. Her skin near white as she struggled to breath, struggled to remain awake.

“Taste the blood of our Harbinger. The flesh of Morkate to walk this world,” Aela called out, likely unheard by the mass of flesh grinding and fucking throughout the temple.

The priestess though took her knife and slid it across the bottom of Lillium’s right breast. Blood welled at the lips of the wound, and began to dribble over Sarya’s own. Life faded, her eyes fluttered, but Lillium presented her breast.

The weakened soldier suckled at the wound, tasting the blood that would flow through her veins as well. But strength soon faded from her, and she lost consciousness upon the altar.

The helot began to pull himself free, shooting cum down her throat. Smearing it across her tongue and blood smeared lips as he pulled free of her relaxing throat. Aela grinned at the sight beneath her as Mia came forth. One final object coming out from the box.

A vial. A potion she’d concocted from Aeltha’s notes. She did not have Nera’s blood, but she’d made due with Lillium’s, and the executed Kazdruk. Among many other ingredients. She tilted Sarya’s head back and poured it down her throat.

“She will rise when Morkate deems it,” she said, though inwardly guessed it to be close to twelve hours, perhaps a full day.

Only then did Lillium pull out, and turned her eyes towards the orgy. Knowing Aela had the continuation of Sarya’s care well in hand, the harbinger slipped free of her cloak, and stepped out into the mass of flesh to find her whore, with full intentions to savour the pleasures of the orgy. Hands immediately reached out to caress her. To touch her. To smear cum across her skin.

Lillium spread her wings, to let them caress her people. Her barony. The first castle of an empire of blood and pleasure.

July 2018 Update

Hello everyone, Sinfulwolf here with a quick update on what’s been going on behind the scenes. I know you’ve all been waiting for more content, and that the wait has been far too long. We all here among the Dominion’s Chain creators know this as well. We apologize for the waiting. So here’s some news to at least give some insight.

For myself, I’ve been away from home working since the end of April. It’s been difficult to get anything down, and for long stretches of time I don’t have access to internet or even my computer. However, Chapter 25 of Shackles of Hate is nearing completion. Currently near 9,000 words and about 16 pages on my word processor (most chapters hit around 19-20 pages). I plan on getting a new chapter out near the start of August.

For Lucien, he’s just gotten a new job and has been slaving away there. Long hours lead to long days lead to long weeks, and with a young one in tow it’s been a pain to get behind the keyboard. Rest assured though he is still working away at not only a new chapter, but also new artwork for you all to enjoy.

Dawn is in much the same boat. Contrary to any rumours, no he’s still not dead. He’s been overworked of late, and hasn’t been able to get cracking despite hopes to have a new chapter out some time ago. He has however found a new proofreader, and work is coming along.

Thank you again for being so patient with us all here. I hope what we can provide in the coming months lives up to the expectations of long waits.

Shackles of Hate. Chapter 24: The Pieces are Moving

By: Sinfulwolf

With the finely embroidered hood of her cloak pulled up over her head, Lelthina looked just another Elven noble come to secretly indulge in the pleasures of the Rose and Jasmine. It seemed to be growing in popularity the past little while among the newly established court of Driftafay.

Lelthina had her suspicions as to why. Sometimes she questioned whether she should make a stand against this growing trend despite that it would cost her a contact to the enemy. Her ambitions and need to see House Winterstone growing powerful once more however, made her embrace this change.

The more she looked into it the more this cult of Morkate would prove to be useful.

As she made her way to the stairs that would bring her to Belinda’s personal chambers, she saw a door opening. An Elven woman, low born but well off judging by the fine clothes of dark green she wore, emerged from the chamber. With a thumb the woman was dragging a small spot of blood from her chin, and licking it clean.

Turning she noted Lelthina, and smirked without any shame or concern that she would be identified. Lelthina recognized the woman; the Captain of the Rose Wolf company, Sienna Blackwood. With only a small glance the captain continued down the hall as Lelthina paused and pondered the implications.

“Captain,” she finally said, making Sienna stop. She turned, with a look of annoyance on her features that turned to surprise as Lelthina lowered her hood.

“My Lady, I didn’t expect one of your station to be slumming it with us low born folk,” she said, surprise turning to a smirk.

“Call it curiosity captain. Whispers of a dark Goddess. Elven patrons turning their spirits towards her. It wouldn’t do not to know what was happening to my people.”

“Not stop it my lady? Doesn’t seem to me like Eletha would be pleased with that.”

“Seems to me you don’t care what the scrolls of Eletha say, or her priestesses.”

At those words Sienna moved closer. Almost touching the noblewoman. The captain’s tongue slithered along her lips as she leaned inwards. Their breasts grazing. For a heartbeat Lelthina was shocked that this woman could be so brazen.

“No, I don’t my lady. But then, you wouldn’t be here if you did,” Sienna purred. Lelthina watched her a moment. Studied her. Through it Sienna’s arrogant smirk never faded.

“You forget your place captain,” Lelthina said, refusing to give ground despite the utter inappropriateness of Sienna’s actions. The response only made the captain’s lips curl.

“Have I?” she said, shuffling just a bit closer. Their breasts starting to crush together. Lelthina could feel the other woman’s stiff nipples through their garments. She couldn’t let this stand, and without any guards it was in her own hands to reaffirm the duties of this captain.

Snapping her hand upwards she grasped Sienna’s neck. The captain didn’t react, her smile unfaltering. The governess let her nails dig into the other woman’s flesh, and began to push. Sienna was strong, and resisted for just a moment, before letting herself be pushed back. There was respect in her gaze, as if Lelthina had passed some private test.

Shuffling to keep her footing, Sienna was soon at arms length from the noble.

“Apologies my lady,” she said, though she had not let the smirk fall from her features. Only then did Lelthina drop her hand. She wiped her hand off on the skirts of her dress, and pondered the captain. She should be punished, but there was something about her that had piqued Lelthina’s interest.

“Meet me in my chambers at nightfall. I have a proposal for you captain. Do not, keep me waiting,” Lelthina said and saw the first cracks in the captain’s confidence. Another look of surprise, but also a hint of concern.

“Of course my lady,” she said, giving the slightest of bows before turning and walking off. She had not been formally dismissed, but was smart enough to see one for what it was.

Quite possibly a most useful ally. Or merely a dangerous pawn. Time would tell with her.

Lelthina watched the captain leave, not moving until Sienna was around the corner. Let her believe that she was here for the pleasures of flesh. If she turned out to have too loose of lips, then it would be easy to sweep that under the rug. It seemed it wasn’t exactly an unpopular vice among her kind.

The captain out of sight, the envoy turned Governess moved up the stairs to Belinda’s chamber. Reaching the stop of the stairs she let her knuckles rap firmly against the door standing in her way. After only a moment of hesitation the Madame’s voice called out to her, tinged with annoyance.

“Come in then.”

Pulling the door outward, Lelthina stepped within, seeing the woman pulling a wrought iron kettle from her hearth. A glance towards the elf noblewoman was marred by a frown as she made her way towards the table with her slight limp.

“A bit later than I expected. I had the kettle put on when I was told you were approaching,” Belinda said, pouring two clay cups of steaming water before adding the bags of tea. From the scent of it, from somewhere in the south. How the woman managed to have any kind of supply to share in times such as these, Lelthina wasn’t sure.

That bothered her nearly as much as Belinda’s words.

“Spying on my now?” Lelthina said as she took a seat.

“Don’t be so dull. You know full well I’ve been spying on you since you first came in here. Just as you’ve been spying on me. Though, I am curious what kept you.”

“A conversation. Surprisingly fruitful.”

“The captain then. Subtlety is not her forte. I am surprised she’s not been discovered by you folk thus far,” Belinda shrugged, holding her cup close. Letting the steam waft over her face, breathing in the scent.

For her part, Lelthina let her fingertips run along the rim of the cup, watching the other woman. Waiting to see if more information was forthcoming. When it wasn’t, the envoy held in a sigh. The Madame had still tipped more information, though it was likely the woman had fully intended Lelthina to know.

As a threat? As an olive branch? Difficult to tell, as she could see herself pulling both moves and even disguising one as the other.

Lelthina smiled, keeping the sigh down.

“Perhaps not. Though I am more curious why you asked to see me. A touch bold to have one of your girls seek me out,” she said.

“Less bold than going to see you myself. A girl dressed as a servant is easily overlooked. The arrogance of Elves often serves me well,” Belinda said, and Lelthina raised an eyebrow. The only sign of impatience she would let show. Belinda smirked, catching it though.

“I’ve heard from Volgras. Baroness Lillium has agreed to a meeting. Two nights from now at an abandoned farmstead one hour ride north of Innisgar. Be there two hours before midnight,” Belinda said and she smirked. Likely at the look of surprise on Lelthina’s face.

“You may bring a guard of five. She will have two companions with her,” the Madame continued and Lelthina thought over the meaning of the gesture. Lillium was certainly powerful enough that should she wish violence then a mere five guards would not be enough. And it also brought to mind, who exactly she could trust enough to bring.

Two days wasn’t much time. Not to build trust, and very little to actually find someone. Inadvertantly, Lillium had thrown Lelthina for a big disadvantage. Or perhaps she knew well what she was doing. Lelthina had to admit, she didn’t care for how little she knew of Lillium’s abilities with politics and subterfuge.

“Tell her I agree to the terms,” Lelthina said and Belinda laughed, the sound and expression deepening some of the lines on her face.

“I don’t tell her anything. She’s the harbinger, I’m a mere pawn in this great game of Gods and Demonic conquerors.”

“There is no game of Gods. Only ambitions. Gods are pieces to play for those who know how to,” Lelthina said, and Belinda smirked.

“Tell me something governess. Nobles often must keep up the appearance of devoutness. Why are you so quick to throw your dice upon Morkate?”

“Morkate is a new piece. I’m eager to add it to my side of the board. Besides, how better to wrest control away from your enemies and ensure loyalty then with a God?”

“I like you governess, despite being an Elf, so I’ll give you this warning. Be very careful. Your wish has been granted and you’re now dealing with someone much more dangerous than any of your political pieces.”

Taking a slow sip of her tea, Lelthina studied Belinda.

“She’s your harbinger. Shouldn’t you be revering her?”

“One blindly reveres Lillium when they don’t value their own freedom any longer. Beware you don’t fall into her snares.”

Rising from her seat, Lelthina carefully set her cup down. She studied the Madame a moment, who merely looked back at her. Cup of tea steaming in her hands, expression entirely neutral.

“Of course. Should you falter… it’s one step closer for the Elves,” Belinda said, and only then let the corner of her lips curl upwards. Lelthina didn’t bother to ask what they would be getting closer to.


Sitting on the cold stone floor, her back against the wall, Sarya stared at the small hole opposite her. Her chains were longer now, giving her some movement around the cell, and a bed of straw in burlap had been given to her. It wasn’t comfortable, but at least it kept her off the chill floor. Aela had at least kept her word thus far.

Food had edible, and delivered with some regularity. But she was still a prisoner, and she did not expect good treatment. So days passed, counted only by the evening visits from Aela and the arrival of breakfast. Given as a bowl of gruel by a bored looking Helot who didn’t speak to her save a few grunts. Likely annoyed he didn’t get to ravage her like the other prisoners. Sarya had heard the screams from various other cells. Worse, eventually screams turned to moans.

But the dungeons were silent today. She played with a small stone, rolling it around under the pad of her finger as she stared, unsure of what she would do when Lillium arrived. She would eventually, Aela had promised it more than once through their multiple conversations.

Conversations and very near sexual pleasures. But Aela always left without fulfilling Sarya’s needs. The last time she had left her mewling and whimpering, gasping for pleasures from tongue, fingers, toys, cock… anything. But she hadn’t gotten it. Still the former Centurion revelled in it. Felt herself growing closer to a Goddess that many thought gone. And now… now saw a new rise in her enemies.

“Are they enemies though?” Sarya asked to the empty cell if only to hear something that wasn’t a droplet of water striking stone. She leaned her head back against the stone wall, bringing her eyes to the stone roof. Just for a change in cracked stone.

Stone. Stone. So much fucking stone. Putting the heels of her palms to her forehead she rubbed and let out an annoyed grunt.

About to stand, the sudden clicking footsteps caught her attention, and stilled the movement before it began. Tapping across the floor as they moved closer, slow and deliberate. They stopped just outside the door to Sarya’s cell. Silence for a few heartbeats, and Sarya knew she was being toyed with. Knew who was unlocking the door as the centurion listened to the clicking metal. She stared, waiting to see the Baroness of Volgras.

As the door opened, Sarya could only see the vague silhouette of her captor in the shadows of the hallway. Red eyes near glowing as they stared at the naked Centurion on the floor.

“I’ve been waiting days. A few more moments isn’t going to terrify me,” Sarya said to the figure, earning herself a low laugh that seemed lacking any real mirth.

Lillium stepped into the room, the black leather of her garments glinting in the light of the cell’s single torch. As her heels of bone clicked against the stone, Sarya felt a chill crawling up her spine. Shuffling closer towards the wall she suddenly did feel nervousness. Flashes of the battlefield where she’d nearly slain this creature slipping across her mind.

“I doubt much could terrify you,” the vampiric succubus’s voice like black silk. Slowly she strode across the cell, and Sarya was reminded of a cat, toying with its prey. “Me least of all, you did after all nearly snuff out my existence.”

Looking up at the warrior turned demon, Sarya steeled herself. Waiting for whatever was to come next. Kneeling, Lillium ran the tips of her claws along Sarya’s outer thigh, working upwards towards her ribs.

“You failed of course, and now you’re at my mercies. I’ve been advised to bring you into my court of course. It seems you’ve made an impression while I was gone,” Lillium said, her lips now inches from Sarya’s ear. Her claws having now reached her neck. Tracing along her jugular. The succubus was calm, not a hint of anger or even arousal despite the sensual teasing.

That had Sarya’s heart pounding, her eyes widening as she stared ahead again. Felt the tip of Lillium’s tongue trailing along her cheek. The saliva quickly cooling as she blew on it, her fingers leaving from Sarya’s throat.

“They tell me you already worship Morkate. Back when her name was recalled in cults in the Goldulin Empire. Secret basements… and the Empress’s chambers,” she said, her hand grasping at Sarya’s knee. Claws digging into the skin around it, forcing her thighs open.

“Is that why you hated me so?” Lillium continued, her fingertips toying with the scars of the bite on the Centurion’s inner thigh.

“Yes,” Sarya admitted, and Lillium grinned, baring her fangs to the woman. Leaning in, letting them graze along Sarya’s neck. Making her gasp softly as finger crept higher up her thigh.

“My people were weak. Yours complacent. Between the Kazdruk and the Coalition, humanity will be crushed into dust. Forgotten amongst the annals of history. So me and you, will give up our own humanity to carve a new empire from the rubble of this war,” Lillium said, shifting herself behind Sarya.

“An empire of your own. Quite the ambition,” Sarya made herself say, even as fingers dragged now towards the entrance of her sex. Teasing at wet folds as arousal pushed fear entirely to the side. As Sarya came to realize what a creature she had once set herself against.

“Far too lofty for my tastes. No, that’s where you come in my dear Centurion. Not just to train my soldiers. But to shatter the cage that holds your empress,” Lillium said, and Sarya’s head snapped to the side to regard the succubus, before a moan burst out from her lips as fingers drove themselves up inside her cunt. Her back arched, and she felt a breast pressing firmly into the palm of her captor.

“Oh yes Sarya she lives. In the bowels of the Spire. The Empress Nera. The Cozlak clan is gone, Goldulin is nothing more than embers. We will build something new for her to rule. Forged from the failures of our forebears,” the succubus continued, now thrusting into Sarya, pulling moans from her former enemy. The woman writhing in Lillium’s clutches.

“Darkness is where we’ll find not just survival. It’s where we’ll find victory,” Lillium purred, and bit down into Sarya’s shoulder. Fangs sinking deep into flesh. Blood blossoming into her lips as she feasted, listening to Sarya’s moans of approval. A trickle of crimson running down towards her untouched breast.

“Then, my sword is yours. Baroness,” Sarya managed through her moans, her head leaning back, her hand reaching to clutch in Lillium’s locks. Her hips starting to thrust as she gave herself to the very woman she had fought so hard against. In that moment she felt all her atrocities were justified. She felt like she had emerged through a web of lies to see clarity for the first time since Goldulin had fallen.

Lillium pulled her fangs free. Crimson dripping from the pearl tips, smeared across black lips. Her fingers though didn’t stop, working Sarya higher into sexual bliss. She had never asked, she had taken. But Sarya had given anyway.

Licking at the wound she had made, knowing Sarya would have another small set of scars in the future, the succubus tasted at her new follower’s life. Another piece moved upon the board. Taken from her foes to be set against them.

“I will take your humanity Sarya. You will serve Morkate, and the Empress.”

The centurion’s only reply was the deep moan as her orgasm had her eyes rolling back and toes curling as heels dragged across the floor. Lillium licked her lips of blood. In two days she would meet this Lelthina.

The time was nearly upon them, and her own revenge was near at hand.


Looking down at the map in the table, Mikel watched as one of his lieutenants jammed a knife into a place in their northern fortifications. He struggled to think of the clan that held that portion of the Wall. He had gotten the reports of the Kazdruk that had appeared from a green mist. Now they were making their own barricades and crude fortifications. Some new unit… or Talon as they seemingly called themselves.

Mersax. That was the clan.

Rubbing at his beard, absently thinking that he needed a shave soon, Mikel tried to think. This development was deeply concerning. Rubbing at his forehead, feeling greasy hair against his palm, he studied the drawings that indicated the front fortifications.

“Why are we bothering holding this land if they can just… appear where ever they want? How do we fight that?” a captain of the Gunnskal clan was saying, thumbing the blade of the axe hanging at her hip.

“Because we have to. If the Kazdruk get full control of this coast, then they can ferry in as many soldiers as they need to storm through our lands. Here, at least they can’t get as many numbers against us,” another captain, Eadlax clan, said with arms crossed over his chest.

“Well, seems they can just ignore that now. We’ve lost our advantage,” the Gunnskal captain replied.

“Not so sure we have,” Mikel said, and the others looked upwards to him. Some with confusion, some with hope. He’d led them through so much so far. He’d only wished the elves would send him some more damn reinforcements. Some parts of the line were getting far too thin on manpower.

“Commander? What exactly are you talking about?” the Gunskal captain asked.

“The Kazdruk appeared in front of the fortifications. That means they can’t just land them where ever they want. Whether it’s an open field, or observers or both, I don’t know. But they have limitations,” Mikel said, and turned to his head engineer. He was busy cleaning grit from under his fingernails with a thin knife. A small slip had him wincing and sucking on the edge of his thumb as it bled. Until he noticed everyone was staring at him.

“Are the second line fortifications ready?”

“Aye sir. And the miners have reported they got their tunnels dug and the barrels of pig fat are stored away.”

Looks of confusion crossed everyone’s features, as Mikel turned back to them. He jammed his finger onto the map.

“This is the plan. We fall back to the second line here in the tree line. Leave a skeleton guard up on the walls, try and get the Kazdruk’s attention. Lure them into an attack. Then have them pull back as well and be ready to defend yourselves. The engineers all have their instructions,” Mikel said, using his finger to indicate movements.

The Gunskal captain was smirking, though the other lieutenants seemed lost.

“The woods should help prevent them from appearing amidst us, if my theory is correct. If I’m wrong, we’ll be far too dead to care,” Mikel said, and there was some chuckling from his officers. Leaning now on the table, he looked at them. Watched their faces, looking for doubt. Instead there was just some confusion.

That was alright. The common soldier didn’t need to know. Best to keep this close to the chest, in case someone preferred the Kazdruk leash.

“Step up the patrols. Our supply lines have been getting raided by the Helots from Volgras, and others that have managed to set up camps behind out lines. I don’t need them calling in a proper army behind us. Stay vigilant, stay strong out there. And pray to Oan, that we get out of this one,” he said, and the officers all nodded at him before slipping out from the tent.

One they were gone, Mikel looked to his chief engineer. “How long for those walls and towers to collapse?”

“Minutes,” the engineer replied and Mikel nodded.

“It’ll be time soon enough. Get your men ready.” Mikel said, getting a gesture of affirmation before he left the tent himself. Breathing in the fresh air, savouring it after the musk of all the unbathed officers that had been crowded in his tent, he watched the last glow of the sun on the horizon.

“Oan please let as many of these soldiers get out of this as you can. Let me be your hand in that at least,” he said, before bowing his head.


The sun was starting to peak above the horizon, and the mists still clung to the land. Miles north of their camp at Thorlgruz, the ten strong Scytar hunting party kept low as they moved through the trees searching for food.

It had been days since the battle. The freed slaves still needed help, but the warriors were becoming restless. The Shaman wanted to stay and help, but the Serok was pushing for them to move on. It wasn’t good to see the two at odds, and Layli had wanted to stay in case the Serok became too pushy.

However, reports of a small spot of strange green mist that had appeared and vanished the day before had given the Shaman cause to send Layli out to investigate. So here she was, wearing a hide vest and leather pants as she moved between the trees. It was unfamiliar terrain for most of the Scytarran hunters. It reminded Layli of the Zelkathorn jungles though, and she felt comfortable in the shadows of the large trees and the concealment of the undergrowth. Though at least the danger here was from enemies, and less so the wildlife.

So she hoped anyway.

Following the padded down vegetation of an animal’s trail, the hunters moved in silence. Communicating only with hand signals, each message had to be relayed to those out of view. Towards the rear, Layli watched as the lead hunter’s hand went up for all to stop. Lifting herself slightly from her crouch, she saw the man drawing the string of his bow back, and arrow nocked.

Ahead of him, four deer. Three of them gently grazing, the other looking towards them, not quite realizing what was happening. In the utter silence, Layli could hear her own heart. Slow and steady in her chest, until she noted the deer looking upwards. Her own gaze followed.

In the boughs of the mighty trees towering above them, where only flickers of the morning sunlight could get through to light the way, she saw something odd. A shadow, moving against the light. As if watching them. Then it leapt down. It was living.

“Above,” she shouted, the deer spooking and tearing off, the loosed arrow from the hunter missing.

The shadow crashed into him, pinning him to the ground. vague wing like shapes slicing forward. Blood sprayed outwards as a second hunter’s head was taken from her shoulders. The lead hunter was gurgling, blood bubbling at his lips and foaming around something that had pierced his back.

Nocking an arrow, Layli drew and loosed towards the shape, only to watch it snap and fall to the ground. Other arrows snapped against those shadowy wings, the sound of steel hitting steel sounding in the forest. Then the creature lunged forward. A nearby hunter, tried to lunge away, only to get her arm severed just below the shoulder.

As she clutched at the stump she screamed in pain. Blood gushed around her fingers as the shade moved past her to another hunter. What might have been an arm shot out, and pierced into the next victim’s chest. He coughed twice, blinking in shock as others tried to shoot the creature.

“Aim away from the wings,” someone shouted, his voice tense, on the verge of panic.

Soundless the creature moved again. Low to the ground the wings scythed beside it. The speaker screamed out as his legs were cut free at the knees, before shadow burst out through his chest.

“Pull back towards the wagons. We need to get into the light,” another man called out as he loosed another arrow that pinged uselessly off steel.

Taking a quick look, Layli counted only five still standing. She gritted her teeth, and watched the shadow, arrow nocked. It moved so fast, pausing only when it took down a hunter. Only then could she start to make out that vague humanoid shape of it.

Shuffling to the side, she moved partially behind a tree. The other hunters doing much the same. The creature twisted in the centre of the five standing Scytarrans. Searching amongst them. For a moment, Layli saw it’s eyes. Red amidst the shadows. A quick flash gone before her mind had fully registered its existence.

Had it recognized her?

It sprung off again, launching itself towards another hunter. Now that she had some idea of its shape, it’s movements, she could aim. As its wings swiped, bark snapped off the tree the monster’s target hid behind. The man fell back, eyes wide with terror.

Layli loosed. Her arrow flew through the air, and she was rewarded with a screech of pain. A very feminine screech as the shadows rolled over the creature. Giving glimpses of flesh and metal and leather. Blood seeped and dripped from its calf as it spun and glared at Layli. There were hints of a face that might have been beautiful.

“Now,” Layli called to the others that still stood. Peaking out from behind trees, they loosed their own arrows.

The shade managed to deflect two of them. Hints of metal showed on the wings as the arrows hit them. But one embedded itself into the attacker’s lower back, and another hit her shoulder. She screeched in pain. Driving one hunter to his knees as he clutched at his ears.

Her own ears ringing, Layli nocked another arrow, this time aiming for the shade’s face. Despite her wounds though, it lunged off to the side, making Layli’s shot go wide. The hunter it grasped hadn’t been expecting the attack as claws dug into his neck. She pulled his throat out in a gush of torn flesh and blood. The wings scissored, and split the man in two.

As the two halves fell into a messy pile of spilled entrails, Layli loosed one last arrow, this one lodging itself into the woman’s shoulder blade. Another ear grating screech filled the forest. But, Layli noted how her wing drooped. Useless. The shadows peeling back more, showing raw unhealed flesh. The stench of rot reaching her nose.

Another arrow nocked and drawn, but now the creature was lunging at Layli. Seemingly flying just above the ground. One wing swiped towards Layli, who dived to the side. Felt the sweep of metal just above her head. But now the thing was above her, crouched and using it’s injured wing as a shield while the others loosed their own arrows at it.

“If you come willingly, I will let these others live. The mistress wanted you alive, there was no need for you to have all your limbs,” the creature said, her voice far more sensual than Layli expected for such a monstrosity.

“Stop,” Layli shouted to the others. They all paused as they were, two of them with bows drawn. They stared at the scene before them. The bleeding creature of metal fused into raw flesh, towering above the shawrapaht.

Slowly, Layli uncurled her fingers from her bow, and held up her hands in a sign of submission. In the corners of her vision she saw draw strings relaxing, the surviving hunters unsure of what to make of what was happening.

“Wise, most wise,” the creature said, reaching downwards and grasping Layli’s vest. She pulled, lifting the shawrapaht from the ground.

“This time. For it certainly was not so wise to challenge my mistress so,” the creature said, grinning down at her captive, showing the glint of metal fangs. “So pretty too… elf blood even.”

Eyes moved to the opened cleavage, to the pointed ears. Slowly savouring the view. Then it pulled Layli sharply upwards, showing surprising strength. Lifting the Scytar warrior clear off the ground until their faces were inches apart.

“Oh you foolish humans. Why fight? The end is inevitable. Denying yourselves the pleasures to be enthralled by our betters. To become, better,” the creature said, her wings protecting her from the others. “How do you taste, I wonder.”

The monster’s face leaned in, surprisingly soft lips pressing to Layli’s own. The shawrapaht thrust her tongue forward, deepening the kiss immediately. She earned herself a muffled moan of surprise. The tang of blood was on the creature’s lips and tongue. The coldness of metal from her fangs.

Fingers grasping the hilt of her knife, Layli drove it upwards into the creature’s gut. Felt her steel piercing flesh, until she curved upwards and felt the scrape of bone. Another screech filled the air, and the creature released Layli, trying to stand upwards, away from the knife. Having the blade hooked on her ribs though only pulled her downwards, steel grating on bone, opening her lung, as Layli’s back struck the forest floor once more.

Fury filled her eyes, and Layli snapped her other hand upwards, grasping at the creature’s throat. Felt claws digging into her forearm. Blood coursed over her hand, her fingers pushed against the very wound she made as she dug the knife deeper.

With another screech of agony, perhaps even knowing she was to die, the creature swung her one working wing around. Ready to carve into Layli’s form.

Four arrows sank into her now unguarded flesh. The creature’s eyes went wide as strength slipped further from her, falling to her knees. Layli managed to push her to side side, where she fell to her back. Snapping the arrows and driving them deeper. Blood began to bubble at her lips.

Getting to her own feet, listening to their attacker desperately drawing for breath that could not fill her collapsing lung, Layli held her knife before her. She had no witty words this time. Instead kneeling on the creature’s naked chest, and driving her knife upwards under her chin.

As the blade punched through the roof of her mouth, the creature’s eyes glazed over in death. Yanking the blade free, Layli stayed crouched above her fallen foe.

“These Kazdruk. They are more wicked than we had been led to believe. This was once a human woman,” Layli said, using her bloodied knife to indicate the wings. The other hunters had started to gather their own fallen.

“We bring her corpse back to show the Shaman and Serok. That they may know what horrors we could find in the north,” Layli said.

“Whenever we go north,” one of the other hunters said.

“Yes. Whenever we go north,” Layli said, and bent forward, pressing the edge of her blade to the skin above the creature’s ear.


The journey back to the camp was quiet. While Layli hadn’t known any of the hunters, they had all known each other. Been friends, and seemingly from the tears that one pretended didn’t mark his face, some lovers as well. Leaving behind the seemingly normal world that was the forest at the edge of Kazdruk corrupted territory was worse now after losing half their party.

Into the swirling ash and crimson sands. Under the skies that ever looked of dusk and swirling energies. The Kazdruk corruption had conquered not just the people here, but the spirits of earth. And cut away the gaze of the Gods.

And after one corrupted through bolted metal and twisted flesh, Layli felt only a deeply burning anger. An eagerness to wet her sword in their blood.

Sentries and scouts at the edge of the sprawling War Host camp saw them approaching of course. No horns were blown, but as the party grew closer, the curious gathered to see what meat had been brought back into camp.

By the time the party was close enough to see faces the curiosity was gone. Concern, worry, on their faces. Slowly twisting into sorrow as they registered the smaller numbers. Ten had gone out, five returned. Layli noted one young woman cupping her hands to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. Before anyone could stop her, she had run off into the depths of the camp.

Whispers carried amongst the throngs that had gathered as they took in the blood smeared hunters that walked along the pathways towards the centre of the camp. Towards the tents of the Serok and the Shaman. They looked at the carefully wrapped bundles in the back of the horse drawn cart, the cloth a damp crimson in spots to show violent ends. They looked at the less carefully wrapped and contorted bundle at the bottom. Tossed on without care.

Of course, they all saw the long locks of hair flap of bloody skin tied to Layli’s belt. There were whispers about the scalp, and wonders why there was only one.

Word had moved through the camp quickly. Between runners and the spreading whispers of the watching crowds. By the time the cart had reached the centre, the Serok and Shaman were both waiting for the party of hunters. Warriors gathered around, and a hush settled over the crowd. Layli glanced to the side, noting Enwa standing just beside Behdin. Her eyes wide as she looked from Layli to the cart.

No words were spoken as the Scytar dead were removed carefully from the cart. Laid off to the side that the Shaman and his Sagird could perform the proper rites upon them. Those watching bowed their heads, pressing their right fist to left shoulder. With no moutains for miles, the bodies would be laid out upon small mounds for the spirits to reclaim their flesh, and the Gods to take their spirits.

Then, slowly, eyes turned towards Layli as she moved to the back of the cart. Without the care displayed to their own dead, she grasped the misshapen corpse that remained and hauled it off, letting ti slam heavily into the ground at the feet of the Shaman and Serok. Without waiting on comment, she pulled the canvas from the corrupted creature that had attacked them in the forest.

Out in the open, to show metal bolted into flesh. A once beautiful woman turned into a mockery of her people. It looked more grotesque from the wounds of battle, and the gleaming skull were once silken locks had hung.

All that could see stared in horror. Layli looked up at Behdin, watching the aging man’s reactions. For a moment he was still, before he bent down, taking two handfuls of earth. When he stood he looked to the sky. To the Gods above. When his eyes dropped back to the people, there was fury there.

“The Kazdruk have soiled the skies with their unnatural practices. They have tainted the earth with their perversions. And now, it seems they will also corrupt our flesh with their wickedness,” he began, and people nodded.

“As many of you know, I wanted to remain here. To aid those that have tasted the lash of these demons. That we might cleanse the lands. But I was wrong. The Kazdruk must not be left alone. Their lives cannot continue. I bow to the Serok in this now. And will follow him north to war,” Behdin said, letting the sand he had picked up drift through his fingers. He turned then, and gave a small bow to the Serok. “Serok Serikbek. The Gods and Spirits need their realms cleaned.”

Serikbek stepped ahead and drew his sword holding it high into the air. He spoke, letting his voice carry across the camp.

“We wash this world with the blood of the Kazdruk, and the blood of the corrupted. Let none say we sat idly by as the world was consumed. So sharpen your blades, and string your bows. We march again. Flesh to blood!”

“Bone to dust,” the many thousands of warriors cried out, sorrow turning to a burning rage. A blood lust rising amongst them. Layli felt herself swept up in it, spittle on her lips as she shouted out. Eager to once more bury her arrows into the invader.

The Serok’s sword came down, and severed the corrupted woman’s head. Holding it high, Serikbek looked over his people. The Scytarran war host chanted their battle cries, those not warriors pumping their fists into the air.

Death was coming to the north.


For Lelthina, the two days given by Lillium had gone by startlingly fast. A rush to find to trust enough to take with her. Though trust was not the right word. It was a word that tasted strange on her tongue and didn’t feel comfortable in her mind. No, she had been looking for those she would know would not betray her.

Captain Sienna had been her first choice, as she needed Pharno back in Driftafay.

It was with some surprise though, at how easy Sienna had been convinced. The woman was not a subtle woman by Elven standards, but her joys of carnal pleasures and bloodshed had been easy enough to sway her. She had even brought along four of her own soldiers that she trusted.

How an Elf in any position of authority could so easily use that word was still beyond Lelthina.

After departing during the day with Lelthina telling the collected nobles of Driftifay that she intended to see what remained of the farmland, it had been easy to bring along a bodyguard of soldiers. Night had fallen, and Lelthina had a story of hiding from Kazdruk patrols ready to sell to explain her lateness.

So here they were at the indicated farmstead, with a small dwelling, a well and a barn with too large of gaps between the boards. The fields had been untended for sometime, and the garden off to the side was overgrown with weeds.

The wind wasn’t strong, but it was enough to snap a loose window frame open and closed. She looked around, as her horse nervously whinnied. The farmstead did indeed look abandoned, for there was no sign of Lillium or her companions. No horses, no lights, no shapes waiting in the shadows.

“Perhaps we are early,” one of the soldiers said, keeping a firm grip on his horse’s reins, keeping the mount from moving too much. Lelthina glanced back to him, then to Sienna, who wore her typical smirk as she looked about.

“No. She is here. The horses know. We are being watched,” the captain said, returning Lelthina’s gaze.

The governess dismounted then, walking her own mare close to the barn. Thankful to be out of the saddle, for her rear was already getting sore. She handed the reins off to one of the soldiers, ignoring his raised eyebrow as he tied his and her own mounts to a horizontal post.

Not fully sure what was expected of her, Lelthina began towards the front door of the cottage, Sienna falling in behind her. The others spread out, hands never straying far from their weapons.

Ten paces from the cottage the door swung open. A blonde elf peered out from the darkness within, though her skin was so pale. And her clothing little more than strips of leather wrapped around her form. Despite her breasts and groin being covered, Lelthina could not call the garb modest.

“Mistress awaits within,” she said, stepping aside from the door and gesturing. Sienna whispered something to her soldiers then, and with perfect discipline they moved to guard the entrance. Their eyes watching as Sienna entered with Lelthina.

It was dark inside, but vague shapes of gray were starting to form, just barely letting the two elven women navigate within. A much larger shape moved, the hint of wings in the shadows. Before either could react, flint was struck. The spark almost blinding after such darkness. A long thin stick was lit, the small little flame struggling to push back darkness.

Lelthina could see clawed pale hands moving, carrying the flame towards candles arrayed upon the table. Slowly, with each one lit, Lillium was revealed. White skinned, clad in leather skirts and corset. Cleavage and the muscle of an experienced warrior on display. She was beautiful, and terrible at once. The curl of her lips not quite a smile, even as it hinted at the tip of a fang.

“Lelthina of the House Winterstone. What a surprise to hear you wanted to talk,” she said, her accent certainly from the human clans to the south of here. But there was a silken touch to it that made it foreign, enticing. She lifted her fingers and put out the small flame on her stick, leaving the four candles of the table to give some light to their conversation.

“I have had some revelations made clear to me. Of your loyalties,” Lelthina replied, noting the shape of the leather clad elf, and another figure, standing in the shadows behind the succubus. She was happy to know as well that Sienna had back up a few steps, putting herself on equal footing.

“Which whisper drives you to seek your enemy? That I plan to betray the Kazdruk? That I will save the Coalition? That I might even bow before the elves again?”

“That you seek to burn the coalition and drive out the Kazdruk.”

Lillium smiled properly now, nodding her head slowly. “A good whisper then. There are pieces missing from your picture, but you know enough of the puzzle. But I wonder, what of your puzzle. What brings you to me, knowing I seek your end?”

“A common foe. And a willingness to burn down what has clearly failed. The Coalition is too rooted in blood lines and old feuds. Better to let it break. Yet… that is but part of the picture,” Lelthina said, giving the succubus her own smile.

“You know how to speak, I’ll grant you that. Elves, ever ambitious. You want the crown, and need help with the inevitable civil war of house Winterstone,” Lillium said, and Lelthina had to guess the succubus was merely making an educated guess. The corrupted warrior was leaning forward now, her claws slowly sinking into the top of the table, and Lelthina couldn’t help but feel her eyes drawn to Lilium’s cleavage. The succubus just smiled.

“Clever. Though I wonder if that means the Kazdruk chose well… or poorly? You speak the truth of it, but I have more. A truce. No raiding or attacks upon Driftafay, and your forces may enter and leave the city freely. Trade can start again,” Lelthina said, and reached upwards, running a finger along the dipping neckline of her dress. Deepening, showing more of the smooth skin of her breasts. The succubus let her eyes slowly dip. It was far from a mere stolen glance. Despite herself, Lelthina felt herself attracted to this creature of darkness. She started to see why so many followed her.

“In return. We aid your patrols against Coalition forces. And, I give you Princess Telva Winterstone to do as you will.”

Lillium’s fingers clenched harder at the mention of that name. Cracks spreading from her claws in the wood. Something close to a snarl lifted a lip.

“There is one more thing I require,” Lillium said, a thread of fury in her voice. She stood then, the table lifting slightly and clattering against the floor as she pulled her fingers free. Lelthina paused, a bit surprised that the woman’s rage to Telva wasn’t enough. She had overestimated Lillium’s need for vengeance.

“When the time comes. It may be weeks, it may be months, but I will occupy Driftafay for a time. Not permanently, but it is the most fitting place for my plans,” she said, moving around the table, her claws dragging along the wooden top. Furrows dug themselves into the wood. She moved until she was standing just beside Lelthina, making the elf have to turn to regard the warrior that stood above her.

“Agreed,” Lelthina said, and held out her hand, knowing better than to question what hidden motives Lillium had.

The succubus grasped that hand and pulled Lelthina close. Their bodies touching, silk against leather. Warm breath cascading over the cool skin of the vampiric creature that towered above her. Sienna was silent in the shadows, but Lelthina could feel the elf captain’s eyes boring into the scene. To see this harbinger of her new Goddess.

It was now, in this moment, feeling her dress being pulled off, feeling physically helpless, that she understood the draw of Morkate. Her heart pounding as she let herself be exposed to her enemy’s eyes. As a hand grasped her rear, squeezing tight, she felt herself pushed back. Naked skin on the gouged table as Lillium hovered over her. Long dark hair trailing over bared skin. Lillium bent her head downwards, those starkly black lips wrapping around a nipple. Letting her tongue tease it.

Lelthina looked down at the display, a soft moan spilling from her lips as she remember Belinda’s warning. But couldn’t find it in herself to act against Lillium. Instead finding her legs wrapping over her hips, crossing at the back of the succubus’s thighs. Feeling her skin rubbing against the coarse leather of the succubus’s skirts as Lillium began to grind firmly against the Elven noble. Feeling leather now against the slickness of her cunt.

Slowly, Lillium tilted her head upwards. To see the lust in Lelthina’s eyes. Lelthina herself surprised by how badly she needed this. Her fingers digging into the shoulder straps of Lillium’s corset. The succubus smiled, her tongue slowly running in circles around an engorged nipple. A slick trail in its wake.

She lowered her head slightly, until her fangs pressed against soft flesh. Lelthina bit her lip, something between fear and arousal in her mind. She felt anticipation, but wondered how she was going to come back from this moment.

Lillium bit down, and Lelthina screamed. Lost on the knife’s edge of pleasure and pain as she felt fangs piercing into her breast. Hot blood flowing out for the harbinger to sup upon her essence. Her eyes rolled back, Lillium’s hands gliding down the elf’s sides to rest at her waist. Pulling down to increase the friction of leather against the wet folds of her cunt.

Moans filled the cottage as the deal with the shadows was made. Tongue dragging over crimson slick skin.

When she pulled back, Lillium let her tongue slither once more. Moving across the holes she had made in the governess’s breast. Soft trickles of blood ran from the wounds, and Lelthina panted, near desperate. Then came the hand at her throat. Pressing into her windpipe, making breathing difficult as she was pulled up. Her breasts now also against leather. The bite stinging as the edges ran along the stitching running along the edges of the cups.

Lips found lips, and Lelthina could taste the almost metallic tang of her own blood. Her tongue eagerly seeking entrance, before the succubus trapped her lower lip between her teeth, letting it fold in front of her fangs. Lelthina groaned, then felt herself pushed back onto the table. Claws between her breasts as she panted.

Lillium stood above her, eyes closed, tongue running over her lips. A soft sound of enjoyment sounding in her throat, then she glared down at Lelthina.

“Bring Telva to Volgras. Then, we can finish what we started here,” Lillium promised, her two concubines gliding through the shadows and leaving the cottage. Sienna might have struck then, ended this threat. But the captain didn’t move, and Lelthina was breathless as she stared upwards.

Claws dragged across the elf’s chest, threatening to break skin and leaving dark red trails between Lelthina’s breasts. Then Lillium turned, her wings whistling in the air before she slipped out from the cottage and into the night, leaving both elves in silence.

Her heart pounding, breasts rising and falling heavily, loins aching, Lelthina couldn’t bring herself to get dressed just yet. She had let Lillium leave with the advantage. Had let her set the theme for their future meetings. She understood the warning that Belinda had given her now. Truly understood. Worse, she wasn’t sure she could fight it.

“Captain. Remember when I told you that you had forgotten your place?”

“Quite clearly my lady,” Sienna said, even her voice carrying that smirk that couldn’t be seen in the shadows.

“I changed my mind.”

The response was the sound of armour buckles being undone.