DRAGONLANCE: DESIRES

by PJ

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The rain pattered over the window as Dalamar gazed out into the Bay of Branchala, sipping from a porcelain cup of steaming tea. Lightning flashed over the Bay, illuminating the dark elf's sharp features. The black-robed wizard walked back to his desk, sitting down in his cushioned, high-backed chair. He reclined, draining the last of his tea, gazing at the solid steel music box he had commissioned for his lover, Ayarlin Luassath. Dalamar set down his empty cup before opening the box, its soft music lilting gracefully. Lightning flashed again outside, then the thunder sounded, shaking the entire room.

"What?" frowned Dalamar, just before the study shuddered again, dust falling from the ceiling. The mage leapt from his chair, moving to the window he had just left. Something hovered a short distance away from the Tower. There was a flash, then a fork of blue lightning snapped from the floating structure to the Tower, slamming into the Tower's wards. Lightning flashed in the sky again, illuminating the floating edifice.

"A Flying Citadel!" exclaimed Dalamar, his eyes wide with disbelief. The Citadel launched another lightning strike, smashing into the Tower's wards, the distant sound of cracking stone echoing from one of the lower levels. Dalamar left the window, hoping he could reach the Laboratory before the wards collapsed.

Ulrym the Pale giggled happily, his long fingers stroking the Dragon Orb from his perch on the highest battlement of the Flying Citadel. He crooned to the Orb, asking it to attack again. The Orb swirled with multi-colored light, focusing its power, then releasing another lightning bolt, the javelin of magic shattering upon the flickering Tower wards.

"The wards are too strong," observed Crosis, his hood pulled over his head to repel the splattering rain.

"It says that It can destroy them," replied Ulrym, the rain sliding freely across his exposed face and down his long, stringy black hair.

"Then tell It to hurry, the Knights may try to interfere," retorted Crosis.

Ulrym muttered darkly into his stubbly beard, petting the Orb affectionately. The Orb flared, summoning three fireballs that exploded down the length of the Tower. The wards shimmered, barely repelling the magical assault.

"Soon," grinned Ulrym.

The stairwell quivered, almost knocking Dalamar into the very deep well that stretched all the way down to the ground floor. Dalamar pressed his left hand against the comforting stone before resuming his ascent to the Laboratory.

The dark elf burst through the Laboratory door, staggering to one of the worktables as the floor tilted beneath him. An explosion rose from the bottom of the stairwell, expelling fire up past the open doorway. The three large windows along the chamber's wall shattered, throwing glass shards everywhere. Dalamar shielded his face with his left arm, wincing when fragments of glass lodged into his skin. The wizard grabbed a long, polished wooden rod before striding to the center open window and aiming the wand at the Flying Citadel. Dalamar spoke the device's command word, his gaze locked on the hovering leviathan before him.

Crosis was pacing behind Ulrym, his hands clasped behind his back, when the Citadel shook. The old wizard raced to the battlement, taken aback when several fireballs spat from one of the Tower windows, smashing into the base of the Citadel, blasting large pieces of the stone structure out into open air.

"The boy has teeth," smiled Crosis, nodding in approval. "Ulrym! Tell the Orb to break the Tower, now!"

The Orb's glow became stronger, covering the entire roof with blinding white light. Crosis covered his closed eyes with an arm, Ulrym's harsh laughter ringing in his ears when the Orb struck. The sky roared with thunder, the dark clouds boiling when a hail of burning stones fell from the black void. The projectiles crashed into the Tower, shattering huge holes in its once smooth obsidian walls. One flaming stone blasted through the Tower roof, severing it from the rest of the building. The roof teetered, then slowly fell down the side of the Tower, sundering more of the wall as it collapsed into the Shoikan Grove. The Tower's foundation cracked, giving way beneath the ruined surface structure. The Tower of High Sorcery fell, dragged down into a sucking crater of earth. When the base of the Tower halted its descent, the Tower body snapped in the middle, the upper portion joining the roof within the damaged Grove.

"Much better," chuckled Crosis, looking down at the huge, billowing cloud of dust that rose from the destroyed Tower.

Ayarlin was jolted from her sleep by the sound of a falling body. The elf woman shot up in her small bed, looking left, her almond eyes widening when she realized her love was kneeling on the floor, his robes torn, blood flowing freely from several ugly wounds.

"Dalamar!" gasped Ayarlin, diving from her bed to the dark elf's side.

"Forgive the intrusion, my dear," smiled Dalamar weakly, "but I seem to have unwillingly joined the ranks of the city's homeless."

With that, Dalamar fell unconscious, saved from falling onto his face only by the swift reaction of Ayarlin's left arm.

"Nothing! Nothing of use!" shouted Crosis, hurling a leather bound volume into a nearby pile of rubble.

"But those were such lovely explosions!" grinned Ulrym, hopping amidst the debris, the Dragon Orb clutched firmly in his hands.

"Let's go! At least Dalamar won't be around to distract me!" snarled the elderly mage, his black robes ruffling as he shot up into the brightening sky, returning to the damaged Citadel.

"Poor, poor Dalamar!" pouted Ulrym, caressing the smooth surface of the Orb, rising slowly after his irate companion.

"Dalamar teleported into Ayarlin's room last night, just after the Tower collapsed," reported Linsha Majere to her superior, Commander Darach. "I led a detachment of Knights there as soon as I could, the Tower was completely destroyed."

"What about this Flying Citadel that was reported attacking the Tower?" inquired Darach.

"It flew north, out to sea."

"Keep the Tower area sealed off. Can we send clean up crews to the Tower?"

"The Shoikan Grove was damaged but not destroyed, Dalamar says it would be a bad idea to send people into it."

"Then we'll leave the Tower be. Any collateral damage?"

"Nothing beyond some shattered windows and minor injuries from glass. It frightened a lot of people, but nothing serious," smiled Linsha gratefully.

"Good. Thank you, Lady Majere."

"Sir," nodded Linsha, turning smartly to exit the office.

"The Dragon Orb has resurfaced in Palanthas," reported the Knight of Takhisis, his bearing stiff and formal.

"Can we get a dragon wing there in time to retrieve it?" asked Governor-General Mirielle Abrena.

"No. Ulrym and the Orb disappeared in a Flying Citadel over the sea."

"Damn that man to the Abyss!" snapped Abrena, smashing her gloved hand onto her wide desktop. "You're dismissed!"

The Knight saluted, leaving his furious commander gratefully.

"Aren't you ready to forget about the Orb, my lady?" asked a voice softly from the shadows in the far right corner of the room.

"Perhaps," admitted Abrena, reclining into her padded chair, her hands clasped in front of her.

"Give me what I want and you'll have what you need to defeat the Solamnic Knights," promised Clawar as he walked forward to face the Governor-General.

"I don't like trading in...slaves," grumbled Abrena.

"A small sacrifice of honor, not a bad price for dominion of Krynn," countered the draconian, his fangs bared.

Abrena snorted, watching her guest carefully.

"Very well, but you will have to lead the raiding teams, I won't force a Knight to do this."

"As you wish, my lady," bowed Clawar respectfully.

Abrena watched the draconian leave, her eyes cold.

Kitiara stood near the edge of the balcony, arms resting on the railing, looking down at Lord Soth as he brooded within his immense throne. The woman sighed, then started tapping a finger against the rail, her eyes raised to the gaping ceiling above her. Life as a death knight was certainly dull, thought the former Dragon Highlord, her glowing green eyes returning to Soth, who sat motionless, his hands clenching the arms of his throne, his burning red eyes focused on the broken chandelier that still lay in the center of the huge room.

For the first time in years, Soth moved. Kitiara jerked upright when the death knight rose from his chair, settled dust falling from his scorched platemail and cloak.

"My lord?" called out Kitiara while Soth walked around the chandelier to the rebuilt front entrance of Dargaard Keep that Kitiara had supervised. Soth threw open the massive iron doors, leaving the throne room without a backward glance or word.

"Damn him!" swore Kitiara, sprinting down the curved stairwell to the ground floor, hurrying after her lord. She caught sight of Soth mounting his massive nightmare stallion, turning the beast towards the trail that led down from the Dargaard Mountains. Kitiara rested her hands on her shapely hips, things were definitely not boring any longer.

Laurana knelt behind the tall tree, her bow held taut in both of her graceful hands. She peeked around the trunk, watching as the deer nibbled on the leaves of a thick bush. The elf woman raised her bow, sighting on the deer's throat. She let fly, the swift arrow smacking dully into the deer's neck. The animal jerked to the side, beginning to flee, then falling to its knees, its strength leaving with the blood that spurted from its ravaged throat. Laurana slid her bow over her left shoulder, walking silently on soft leather soles to the prone deer.

"Good shot," smiled Halim, emerging from the underbrush to Laurana's left.

"Thank you," grinned Laurana, pleased with the wild elf's approval of her skill.

Halim withdrew the arrow neatly, offering it back to Laurana. He picked up the deer and draped it across his strong shoulders, waiting for Laurana to lead the way back to his village. Laurana was admiring Halim's taut, bare arms, capable of such strength, yet gentle as well. Halim coughed softly, breaking Laurana's train of thought. She blushed when she realized Halim was watching her, smiling in amusement. Straightening her shoulders, Laurana took the lead, blazing a trail quietly through the verdant forest.

The sky was red with dusk when Laurana and Halim returned to the wild elf village. Elf children ran around Halim, teasing him and making him laugh while a group of fellow hunters approached to relieve Halim of his burden and to congratulate him.

"Her highness, Laurana, made the shot," corrected Halim, waving towards his beautiful companion.

Laurana blushed, accepting the hunters' praise with a warm smile and a nod.

"We will feast tonight," promised Halim, walking Laurana back to her hut. "Perhaps then you will tell me why you left the capital city for a primitive settlement on the Qualinesti border."

"Perhaps," smiled Laurana, before she entered her hut and softly closed the door.

Laurana dipped her hands into the cool water, splashing herself, washing the dirt and sweat of the hunt from her slim body. A small, narrow crystal bounced between the elf woman's breasts, fastened around her neck by a delicate gold chain. Laurana fingered the crystal, enchanted so her son, Gilthas, could contact her in an emergency. The elf washed out her long, golden hair, hair that fell to her slim waist in shimmering waves.

A bush rustled near the edge of the pool. Laurana stood up, her naked body shining in the bright starlight, her arms pressed together against her alluring breasts.

"Who is it?" hissed Laurana.

Halim appeared from behind the bush, his face red with shame.

"You! You...doorknob!" sputtered Laurana, breaking into a fit of laughter.

Halim chuckled ruefully, rubbing the back of his head.

"Forgive me, Highness. I better go," murmured Halim, turning to depart.

"You...you don't have to," whispered Laurana.

Halim slowly shifted his gaze back to Laurana, stunned when she lowered her arms, uncovering her magnificent breasts.

The wild elf swiftly tugged off his leather tunic and breeches, joining Laurana in the pool. Laurana shyly caressed Halim's firm chest, her nails lightly scratching his deeply tanned skin. Halim wrapped his arms around Laurana's waist, nuzzling her golden hair. Laurana raised her face to stare into Halim's eyes. He kissed her, his breath warm inside her mouth. Halim clutched Laurana tighter, crushing her body against his, her breasts rubbing his torso. Laurana kissed Halim back, her lips demanding and hot. Halim caressed Laurana's small buttocks, her flesh warm and silky beneath his palms. Laurana lowered her mouth to Halim's neck, planting kisses on his throat while he moved his hands up and down her spine, making her shiver with pleasure.

Halim turned Laurana around so her back faced him. He caressed the elf woman's ass, nibbling on her right ear. Laurana moaned, reaching back to grasp Halim's cock, slowly pumping her hand up and down his rising shaft. Halim held Laurana against him with his strong left arm, his right hand reaching between her legs, teasing her dripping pussy. Laurana bit her lip, trembling in the wild elf's embrace as he slipped a finger up and down her cunt, her clitoris throbbing with lust. Halim kissed the side of Laurana's neck, his finger plunging gently into her slit, rubbing the outer walls of her vagina. Laurana panted for breath, her tits shuddered, her legs could barely support her while Halim dipped his finger in and out of her cunt, the digit glistening with her honey.

Laurana broke away so she could face Halim. She reached up to wrap her arms around the wild elf's neck, her lips meeting his, her tongue sliding into her lover's mouth. Laurana encircled Halim's waist with her slender legs, rubbing her crotch over his stiff member. Halim guided his cock into Laurana's cunt, then cupped her buttocks as she began pumping her pussy against his prick, shoving it deep into her vagina. Both lovers groaned in ecstasy, Halim squeezing Laurana's ass, the elf woman ramming her cunt harder on Halim's tool, forcing it ever deeper into her belly. Laurana stopped her moans by fastening her mouth over Halim's, her tongue wild, entwining around her lover's. Halim held tightly to Laurana's buttocks, he placed a finger into her crack, rubbing up and down while Laurana's ass clenched from her crotch thrusts. Laurana pumped faster and faster onto Halim's cock, her pussy drenched in juices. She orgasmed, her vagina squeezing Halim's tool, milking it while it shot hot cum into her.

Laurana lowered her legs back into the water. Halim kissed her one more time, then picked her up, carrying her out of the pool onto the grass. The wild elf reclined on the ground next to Laurana, stroking her face, gazing into her warm eyes.

======

Laurana left Halim sleeping on the bed, quietly dressing in supple leather and belting on a sword before leaving her small hut. The morning was bright and warm as the elf woman made her way to the pool where she and Halim had first made love. She knelt at the water's edge, splashing cool liquid over her lovely face. She gazed down at her reflection, thinking about Halim, her son, and her dead husband, Tanis. It was too soon, thought Laurana, biting her lower lip. I should remain true to Tanis.

"Elf bitch," snarled Lord Soth, emerging from the forest shadow, his black sword gleaming in the sunlight.

"Soth!" exclaimed Laurana with wide eyes, unsheathing her blade without thought.

Soth jumped over the pool, his dark cloak billowing behind him as he brought down his sword to cleave Laurana in two. Laurana stumbled back, parrying the death knight's strike, slashing across his armored torso in a counter-blow. Soth smashed Laurana's sword away, his blade hissing like an adder as it darted forward to taste the elf woman's blood. The black sword cut deep into Laurana's right thigh, causing her leg to throb with agony. She staggered, and Soth pounced, slamming the flat of his blade against her sword hand, sending her weapon twirling away into the bushes.

"Die, elf!" roared Soth, looming over Laurana's crouched body, the tip of his upraised sword aimed at Laurana's heart with both gloved hands wrapped around the blade's hilt.

"Stop!" shouted an elderly male voice.

Soth glanced to his left, where the wizard Crosis stood brandishing the Staff of Fistandantilus.

"This is none of your business, mage!" growled Soth.

"She is not the elf you seek to slay," said Crosis calmly. "She is more useful to us alive."

"Explain yourself," demanded the death knight.

"She is the key to Skull Cap."

"The destroyed lair of Fistandantilus," nodded Soth.

"Exactly. With the elf woman in our possession, we can enter Skull Cap and take its secrets. For me, the secret of immortality, for you, the cure for your ancient curse."

"The cure...for my curse?" murmured Soth in stunned disbelief.

"Yes. Your suffering can finally end, if you spare the woman and help me once we reach Skull Cap."

"If you are lying, mage, you will die," warned Soth, pointing his sword at Crosis.

"I'm not lying," retorted the elderly wizard.

Soth slowly sheathed his weapon, regarding Laurana who lay limply on the grass, pressing her small hands over her bleeding leg wound. As Soth backed away, Crosis walked forward, kneeling next to Laurana, removing a small jar of ointment from one of his belt pouches.

"Again we meet," said Laurana, watching the wrinkle lined face of the mysterious wizard while he rubbed thick ointment over her wound.

"Indeed, my lady," smiled Crosis, intent on his work.

"Why have you saved me?"

"Because I need you, just as I told the death knight."

"How can I be the key to Skull Cap?"

"You will see, elf, you will see," said Crosis, his cool eyes meeting Laurana's briefly, her flesh beneath his dry hands knitting shut, healing within moments.

Clawar hid behind a tree, watching with interest while Crosis led Laurana and Soth out of the pool glade.

"Skull Cap, eh?" hissed the draconian, rubbing his claws together greedily. He left his hiding place to return to the squad of brutes waiting nearby within another small clearing.

"We attack, yes?" demanded the brute leader.

"No, return to Neraka, I have business elsewhere," replied Clawar tersely.

The brute glowered at Clawar before snapping instructions to his warriors. The heavily muscled, blue-skinned soldiers faded quietly into the brush, leaving Clawar alone in the clearing. The draconian removed a brown hawk feather from a pouch, hissing the words required for the spell. Clawar slowly rose into the air, his thick cloak flapping around him. With a sharp upward thrust of his right arm, Clawar shot up into the sky like an arrow from a bow, disappearing into the blue firmament.

Kitiara sat along the eastern bank of the Vingaard River, idly tossing small stones into the flowing current. The night was warm, with dark clouds sailing across the heights of the Dargaard Mountains that loomed behind the death knight. Kitiara couldn't feel the warmth, she had felt very little since her transformation into a death knight, an undead creature like her master, Lord Soth. She tugged off the leather glove over her right hand. The flesh was smooth, pale white, like alabaster or marble, without blemish, but cold, without life or warmth. Kitiara touched her right cheek with her bare fingers, but again there was nothing except the sensation of fingers raking over skin, no warmth, no pleasure.

Kitiara was so intent on her lack of feeling she failed to take note of the flap of wide, leather wings, or the descent of the enormous blue dragon on the western bank of the river.

"Kitiara?" rumbled the dragon, his eyes narrowing as he examined the armor-clad woman.

"Skie?" whispered Kitiara, her gaze finally focusing on the huge creature before her. "Skie!"

The dragon hopped across the river, wrapping Kitiara within his large wings. Kitiara hugged the wide chest of the dragon, pressing her right cheek against his scaly torso, ethereal tears slipping from her closed eyes.

"You're so cold," murmured Skie, releasing Kitiara from his embrace.

"I'm undead now," admitted Kitiara, lowering her face in shame. "I'm a death knight."

"Like Lord Soth."

"Yes, like him."

"It's good to see you again, Blue Lady," smiled Skie, baring long rows of sharp fangs.

"Dark Lady is more appropriate now," grinned Kitiara, some of her good humor returning.

"Indeed," acknowledged the dragon, bowing his long neck. "I bid you farewell."

"Kellendros," said Kitiara huskily.

The blue dragon froze with wings extended at the use of his true name.

"Yes, Dark Lady?"

"Can you help me?"

"With what?"

"I want to be human again. I want to feel."

"A death knight has never been brought back, not even during the Age of Might."

"We can try, can't we?" begged Kitiara.

"I could never refuse you, my girl," smiled Skie, stroking Kitiara's left cheek gently with the tip of a massive claw. "I will help you."

Governor-General Abrena paced within the cavernous lengths of the Hall of Audience. She gazed up at Takhisis' Gate, the upraised platform where the Dragon Orb had once rested, where it had pulsed with magical power as it called out into the void for the Dark Queen to return.

"Where is Clawar?" snapped Abrena to herself, gauntlet-covered hands clasped tightly together behind her back.

"Draconians are so unpredictable. No wonder they lost the War of the Lance," observed Ulrym from his perch at the edge of Takhisis' Gate, the Orb glowing softly in his lap.

"Guards!" screamed Abrena, her eyes burning with fury as she unsheathed her sword.

"They won't hear you. The Orb has insured that our conversation remains private," grinned the stubble-chinned young wizard smugly.

"Why have you returned?" demanded Abrena.

"To make a deal, of course," replied Ulrym, stroking the Dragon Orb like he would a sleepy cat. "I promise I'll live up to my end better than Clawar has."

"What kind of deal?" prompted Abrena skeptically.

"The spirit of the dragon imprisoned within the Orb wants to be set free. You will give It the aid It requires, and in exchange, It will conquer Krynn for you."

"How generous. How will one dragon conquer the world?"

"This dragon is very special, the only one of its kind."

"Why should I trust you, or this mysterious dragon? You've already betrayed me once," snapped Abrena.

"Because you want to rule the world, with or without the Dark Queen's blessing. Because you're tired of waiting for Clawar and his vague promises of a secret weapon against the Knights of Solamnia. You'll trust me because it's in your best interest to do so."

Abrena glared up at the smirking wizard, grinding her teeth in frustration. With a sharp sigh, she slammed her sword back into her sheath.

"Alright, how do we free the spirit of the Orb?"

The Flying Citadel slid through the air over the swamp surrounding Skull Cap. Laurana peeked over a broken battlement, the breeze from the Citadel's flight sliding over her long, golden hair, the heavy, dank smell of the bogs rising up to fill the elf woman's nostrils. She grimaced with distaste, but remained where she was, even more reluctant to rejoin her two "companions" within the dark, musty keep. The ruin of Skull Cap lay before Laurana, once a lone mountain shaped like a human skull, now merely a pile of jagged, torn rock. Laurana grasped the battlement when the Citadel began its easy descent towards the ruin, the stench of the swamp becoming stronger as they landed.

"Laurana, it's time," said Crosis from the tower entrance.

"Can I at least have a sword in case we get attacked by the ruin's guardians?"

"You'll have to stay close to Soth and I, we'll protect you," smiled the wizard without warmth.

"Bastard," murmured Laurana, following the old mage down the tower's spiraling stairwell.

Lord Soth waited for the two mortals at the Citadel's enormous entrance, his left gauntlet resting on the pommel of his sword. Soth's glowing red eyes narrowed at Laurana's approach, but he remained silent.

"Come," urged Crosis, leading the way to the edge of the rock base that the Citadel rested on. The wizard took a small strip of leather and tied it into a loop, invoking his magic with a soft whisper. Crosis walked out into open air, then began to descend gently to the ground below. Soth followed without hesitation, then Laurana stepped out, gasping softly when the magic took hold of her and lowered her to the ground. When his companions had landed, Crosis marched toward the ruin, the tip of his black staff tapping loudly against the sundered rock. Soth remained still until Laurana walked past him. The death knight guarded the rear, hand on sword hilt, red eyes watching everywhere.

The trio climbed a gentle rise that led to a jagged cave opening. Crosis snapped out a word, and the upper tip of his staff flashed with a flame of bright blue light. The wizard entered the cave without hesitation, his steps eager. Laurana walked into the cave more reluctantly, but Soth's cold presence behind her urged her forward. Laurana followed the flickering blue flame down a narrow, twisting tunnel of rough stone which eventually led into a dark, roughly rectangular, empty room.

"Zhaman," whispered Crosis reverently.

"What are we looking for?" asked Laurana, breaking the silence that cloaked the room.

"I'll know when I find it, elf," snapped Crosis, entering a doorway to the south.

Laurana and Soth walked after the mage, emerging within a square room littered with pieces of rotting wood that appeared to once have been a large, flat table. Pieces of dark wood that could have been from a set of shelves lay moldering along the walls. Crosis looked over the debris quickly, dismissing it and continuing across the room, turning east around a corner to an adjacent section that ended in a blank wall with doors to the north and south. Crosis pushed open the northern door, entering the western branch of an enormous, vaulted chamber. The wizard led the elf and death knight into the center of the room, where a huge, twisted metal stairwell lay. A dark hole ran up through the ceiling above the ruined stairwell, while a bottomless pit descended into the heart of Zhaman. Set in the center of the southern wall was a set of metal double doors. To the east, a large hole gaped in the wall, and the scent of dank water wafted out of it.

"Remain here," ordered Crosis, the chamber darkening as the mage took his burning staff with him toward the iron double doors to the south.

Laurana tried to use her elven vision, but nothing radiated heat, everything was cold and lifeless.

"Can you do something?" asked Laurana.

"I can see quite well," replied Soth with a trace of smugness.

"Please," requested Laurana, hating to have to ask the death knight for anything.

Soth drew his long sword, snapping out a sharp command. The ebony blade slowly began to glimmer with a soft, violet light, barely enough to see with. Laurana sighed, grateful to see again. She wandered around the broken iron stairwell, Soth watching her closely. She made her way to the hole in the east wall, curious about the smell of water coming from it.

The hole gave entry to a small cave, a cave with a large pool of water filling its interior. A single stalagmite jutted out from the brackish pool while a small waterfall of brown liquid poured down from a cleft near the ceiling.

Laurana wrinkled her pert nose, backing away from the reeking pool. Soth jerked his head to the right, his ruby eyes narrowing with alarm. Thin shadows danced along the walls, their outlines illuminated by the soft glow of Soth's blade. Soth hissed something, causing his sword to flare with a blinding violet burst.

The shadows screamed in agony from the harsh light. They flowed away from the walls, reaching towards Laurana and Soth with black, clawed hands. Laurana spun to run out of the cave, but failed to escape from a shadow that grasped her ankles and jerked her feet out from under her. Laurana hit the rock floor hard, the breath knocked out of her. The elf woman scrabbled for a handhold on the floor as the shadow holding her legs started dragging her towards the edge of the black pool. Another shadow perched on Laurana's back, fondling her face with long, freezing fingers of darkness. Soth slashed at the shadows flittering around him, his enchanted sword tearing through the creatures as if they were made of smoke. The shadows' dying screeches were like knives plunging into Laurana's brain. The shadow on Laurana's back wrapped its frigid hands around her throat, squeezing remorselessly, cutting off all hope for air. Laurana's boot soles dipped into the water, then her ankles were engulfed. Choking, Laurana's legs shivered when the cold, dark water touched her living flesh. The shadow continued to drag Laurana up to her knees into the smooth, glass-like pool's depths.

Soth stood over Laurana, making a mighty swing with his smoldering blade. The shadow sitting on her back screamed, its body evaporating from the magical sword's touch. Soth severed the dragging shadow's arms at the wrist, then bent down to drag Laurana out of the clinging embrace of the obsidian pool. He wrapped his left arm around Laurana's slender waist, carrying her out of the cave, moving a short distance south before resting Laurana against a wall.

Laurana panted heavily, her lungs burning for air, her lower legs trembling from the frigid kiss of the polluted water. The elf woman's leather tunic had become partially undone, revealing a wide expanse of shivering bosom. Soth stared at Laurana's cleavage, at her pouting, gasping lips. He raised his visor, crushing Laurana's mouth with his cold, flesh-torn lips. Laurana moaned helplessly, struggling against the armored death knight as he reached between her legs, fondling her crotch.

The burning staff tip smashed into the side of Soth's helmeted head, propelling him away from Laurana. The elf woman slid bonelessly to the floor while Crosis glared at Soth.

"The elf is mine! You will not touch her!" snarled Crosis.

Soth lowered his visor, his tightly held sword shaking slightly.

"Do you want to be freed from your curse or not?" demanded the mage.

"I do," admitted Soth reluctantly.

"Then do as I command!" said Crosis.

Soth lowered his sword tip, stepping back several paces from the glaring wizard.

Crosis turned away from Soth just enough to kneel in front of Laurana while keeping an eye on the death knight with his peripheral vision.

"Are you hurt?" asked Crosis, his hands moving over Laurana in a search for obvious wounds.

"Hard to breathe. Feel cold," chattered Laurana, her face an unhealthy shade of blue.

"Drink this," instructed the wizard, popping the cork from a small vial, tilting Laurana's head and holding her mouth open as he poured the vial's contents inside. The warm liquid flowed down Laurana's sore throat, soothing, removing pain. The blue cast of Laurana's face disappeared, it was now pink with health again. Laurana staggered to her feet with Crosis' help, he held her lightly for a moment, then backed away, releasing his grip.

"Come," said Crosis, his blue-lit staff heralding the way to the open iron doors along the south wall. Laurana and Soth followed Crosis into a crescent-shaped room with a short raised dais against the opposite wall. An obsidian table rested at the top of the dais, adorned everywhere with elegant, silver script.

"The Altar," smiled Crosis, the light of his staff reflecting off the spidery silver runes covering the stone table.

"Put the elf on the table."

Soth's hands locked around Laurana's upper arms. She struggled violently while he half-carried, half-dragged her up the dais to the black altar. Soth picked Laurana up and placed her on her back upon the table. The altar hummed softly, becoming warm as it absorbed Laurana's body heat. Black bands of flowing stone shot up from the altar's surface, binding Laurana's ankles and wrists. Laurana tugged at her bonds, trying to slide out of them, to no avail. Crosis ascended the dais' steps, chanting in a loud voice, his left hand moving in slow, graceful patterns. Soth stood near Laurana's feet, staring down at her, arms crossed over his chest, his glowing eyes relishing the elf woman's predicament.

Crosis released hold of his staff, but it remained upright, burning brightly as he drew a glittering knife and cut open Laurana's tunic. Laurana whimpered softly when Crosis cut lightly into the flesh over her heart, inscribing a small cross just above her left breast. The wizard raised his right hand, chanting continuously while he cut a matching cross into his palm. Voice rising, Crosis slapped his bleeding hand over Laurana's heart, the magic building around elf woman and mage, warming them both. Laurana could feel her life force begin to flow out of her body into Crosis'. The wizard groaned in ecstasy, his wrinkled face smoothing, his lank, white hair becoming fuller and darker. Laurana turned her gaze to Soth, but he stood impassively, a silent statue in ruined armor.

"Your life is so sweet," purred Crosis, his left hand stroking Laurana's blonde mane as he drew closer to her, covering her mouth with his cool lips, his tongue caressing hers while he sucked the very life out of her.

The wizard's mouth froze over Laurana's. She stared into Crosis' eyes, which were wide with shock. The mage jerked upright, stumbling away from the altar. He looked down, to see a sword tip dripping from his chest. The blade was pulled free, and Crosis collapsed like a broken doll, his life blood pooling beneath him. The staff of Fistandantilus clattered onto the dais' steps, its flaming tip sputtering to darkness.

"Well done," said Soth, addressing the skeleton warrior that stood over Crosis' corpse. The undead warrior nodded while Soth shattered the bonds holding Laurana to the altar. The death knight bent over Laurana's body, watching as her bare breasts pumped from stress and terror.

"What will you do with me?" whispered Laurana, her heart thumping.

"Kitiara?" inquired Soth.

"Gone, my lord. The man watching her said she left with a blue dragon."

"Her minion, Skie," snarled Soth. The death knight swung his gaze from his servant to Laurana, the burning red orbs piercing deeply into the elf woman. "I have lost my consort, it seems. You will replace her."

"No, I would rather die," whispered Laurana with her last flicker of spirit.

"Perhaps you will, and perhaps you will become like me, immortal, a slave of Death, but never to feel her warm embrace."

Soth touched Laurana's trembling lips before enfolding her within his arms. He carried her out of the altar room, the skeleton warrior trailing behind them as they left the ruins of Zhaman.

======

Lavra stumbled down the hallway, her eyes heavy with drowsiness. She rubbed her aching eyelids, trying to clear her vision enough to make her way back to her sleeping cell. Passing a door to her left, Lavra detected the sounds of deep moaning. Curious from hearing a noise she had never experienced, the young aesthetic leaned against the portal, pressing her ear to the smooth wood. She heard the moaning again, a husky, warm exhalation of breath. Pressing her teeth together, Lavra carefully opened the door a crack, peeking into the darkness.

When her eyes adjusted to the dark, they widened in shock. Lavra watched with dread interest while the visiting black robe mage, Dalamar, pumped himself against Ayarlin Luassath's prone, naked body. Both elves were drenched in love sweat, Dalamar kissing Ayarlin, sucking on her full lips as he shoved his member down into her musky pussy. Ayarlin moaned softly, her fingers gently raking Dalamar's smooth back. Lavra's face flushed with embarrassment, and with excitement. She could feel her own pussy responding to the sight she witnessed, her clit tingling, the mouth of her cunt growing moist. Lavra cautiously closed the door, her skin burning, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The young aesthetic resumed her journey to her cell, but she would not be sleeping immediately that night.

Laurana groaned loudly as Lord Soth rammed his frigid cock into her pussy. She lay on the death knight's huge, silk covered bed, resting on hands and knees while Soth crashed into her ass with his crotch. Soth seized a handful of the elf woman's golden hair, jerking back on it painfully, his shaft stabbing deep into her belly. Laurana's buttocks and vagina felt numb, frozen by the undead's touch. Soth pressed his right palm against the back of Laurana's head, pushing her face into the black silk sheets beneath her, her ass thrusting up to meet his thrusting cock. Laurana closed her almond-shaped eyes, tears gleaming at the corners from the pain of his assault. Soth's prick was like a dagger of ice as it thrust into her womb, biting her tender vagina tissues, her thighs shuddering from the violent probing of her cunt. Soth rammed into Laurana one last time, then pushed her away from him, slapping her ass sharply.

Laurana lay limply on her side, her sides pumping, her nipples stiff. Soth gazed down at the naked elf woman, retying his metal codpiece into place.

"Do not leave the castle. The outer guardians will kill you without hesitation," warned Soth before he strode out of the dark bedroom.

Laurana rested on the bed for a time, regaining her strength. Slowly, she stood up upon the cold flagstones, the chill shooting up her bare feet. Soth had taken her leathers, but had left a thin red silk robe on a nearby chair. Laurana pulled on the robe, tightening the silk belt around her slim waist. Her pussy still sore from Soth's attentions, Laurana shuffled to the bedchamber's only window, looking out into the glittering night.

Dargaard Keep's northern rampart sat far below. Another tower stood to Laurana's left, a nest for a flock of skeletal Bone Birds. The animated giant hawk skeletons served as mounts for Soth's skeleton warriors, that was how one of Soth's minions had tracked them to Skull Cap in time to slay Crosis before he could drain Laurana's life essence. One of the Bone Birds caught Laurana looking at it and cried shrilly, making the elf woman wince. Laurana backed away from the window, hugging her arms around her waist, shivering from the seeming never-ending cold. She walked to the bedchamber's exit, opening the portal. A glowing white spirit flowed past the open door, halting in mid-flight to stare at Laurana.

"Oh, no. Another poor soul has come to join us," moaned the ghost of an elf woman. She smiled with pity at Laurana, reaching out to stroke the living elf's cheek. Laurana jerked back at the intensely cold touch, her cheek heavy with numbness.

"You will be like me, soon," wept the ghost.

Laurana slammed the door shut, leaning her back against it, breathing heavily. She heard the despairing cries of the elf ghost as it flew away down the corridor. Laurana closed her eyes, sobbing softly, praying to gods who no longer listened.

Clawar cautiously entered the altar room, a globe of green light held within his left claw. He knelt next to Crosis' body, searching the corpse's clothing for items of interest. He took the dead wizard's belt pouches, then grinned with pleasure when he noticed the Staff of Fistandantilus resting on the dais steps. The draconian left the corpse to pick up the black wood staff. The weapon hummed in Clawar's claw, attuning itself to its new master. Clawar closed his eyes, accepting the knowledge that the staff imparted to him.

Clawar left the altar room, the bottom tip of his new staff tapping against the stone floor as he left the ruins of Zhaman. Clawar flew up to the surface of the rock base that supported Crosis' Flying Citadel. The draconian slammed the butt of his staff against the rock, tendrils of wood snapping free to embed themselves within the rough stone. Magic poured from the staff into the rock, wisps of blue fire that disappeared beneath Clawar's feet. The rock base shook, then slowly rose from the swampy ground. Clawar released the staff, which still fed the Citadel with energy, to watch the ruins of Zhaman slowly disappear, obscured by fluffy clouds as the Flying Citadel ascended and sailed northeast.

Kitiara stood by the tall, narrow window, watching the waves of the Bay of Branchala crash against the coastline. She wore a loose robe, her dark, curly hair still wet from bathing. She tried to inhale the tangy sea air, but could smell nothing.

"I think I have it," said Khellendros, the blue dragon currently wearing his lithe, human form. The blue-robed man set down a heavy book upon the large study table, flipping the decaying pages to the spot he desired.

"This legend says that one cursed with undeath can return to life if he or she slays the one who killed them."

"Dalamar," snarled Kitiara, her fists clenching.

"Precisely," nodded Khellendros.

"He'll be tough to get at. He's holed up in that Abyss-damned Tower of his!"

"Not at the moment," corrected Khellendros, leaning back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together. "His Tower was destroyed by two mages in a Flying Citadel. I believe he is currently staying with his elven lover at the Great Library."

"He has another lover?" murmured Kitiara darkly.

"That is hardly the point," rebuked the dragon. "Concentrate on slaying him."

"Oh, that will not be a problem," smiled Kitiara cruelly. "I will perform the deed with great relish!"

Dalamar and Ayarlin sat opposite each other at one of the scribing tables, copying from old volumes into newer editions. Dalamar stopped working to reach out across the table and stroke Ayarlin's left hand. Ayarlin looked up, ink smudged across her forehead.

"Dalamar!" whispered Ayarlin, her skin flushing hotly.

The dark elf caressed the back of Ayarlin's hand one more time before pulling back his arm.

"It's almost dusk," observed Dalamar, arching his stiff spine. "Time to quit, I believe."

"You're right," sighed Ayarlin, stretching out her slim arms.

The two elves closed the books they were working with, setting them at the end of the table so they could continue the following day. Dalamar wrapped his arms around Ayarlin's waist, nuzzling her blonde hair.

"Not here," admonished Ayarlin, her breath quickening from Dalamar's embrace.

Dalamar growled into Ayarlin's neck, kissing the side of her throat.

Ayarlin closed her eyes, enjoying Dalamar's warm breath against her skin, his lips tenderly kissing the top of her right shoulder.

"Enough!" said Ayarlin, pulling away from Dalamar, her breasts pumping. "You're impossible!"

Dalamar smiled, folding his hands inside his wide black sleeves.

Scholar and wizard left the Great Library, walking down a wide, clean boulevard toward one of their favorite restaurants. Lanterns set on metal poles illuminated the street as other citizens went about their evening business.

"Wait!" snapped Dalamar, pressing his left hand over Ayarlin's stomach.

"What?"

"The air," murmured Dalamar, looking up into the clear, starlit sky. The dark elf's eyes widened, he shoved Ayarlin behind him, throwing blue dust from a pouch in a wide arc in front of them both.

The bolt of lightning cracked loudly enough to shatter nearby windows, the sizzling lance of energy smashing into Dalamar's hastily erected shield. Dalamar swiftly removed a wand from a narrow pocket of his robes, aiming it at Skie and shouting the command word. Fire exploded against Skie's chest, melting scales and searing the tender flesh beneath. Skie roared with pain, twisting out of his dive, using an air current to slide back up to a higher altitude.

"Go get the Knights! They'll have dragonlances!" said Dalamar.

"I won't leave you!" retorted Ayarlin.

"Do it or we're both dead!"

Ayarlin frowned, but did as she was bidden, racing down the street towards Knight's House.

Skie banked towards Dalamar, screaming in challenge, Kitiara sitting securely in her dragon saddle.

Dalamar placed a bit of spider web in his right palm, casting the magic, then throwing the pale web at the diving dragon. The piece of web blossomed wide, expanding into a massive curtain of sticky strands. Skie moved to evade it, but failed. The strands clung to Skie's wings, entangling them. The dragon smashed into the street, sliding until he crashed into a two-story shop. Skie lay still, dazed from the impact. Kitiara unstrapped herself from the saddle, hopping to the street, drawing her long sword.

Dalamar retrieved a tiny platinum sword from a pocket. He invoked the words of power, which consumed the small blade. A glowing long sword appeared in the air before Dalamar, gleaming with a blood-red sheen. Dalamar pointed at Kitiara and the sword hissed through the air towards her. Kitiara knocked the blade aside with her own sword, but the magical blade returned, slashing and stabbing at her. The death knight backed away from the glowing weapon, parrying its attacks, but unable to close with Dalamar. Dalamar remained stationary, his hands intertwined, all of his concentration locked on his magical construct. Skie groaned, his form shifting as he reduced himself to human form. He leaned against one of the shop's ruined walls, brushing dust off of his blue robes. Skie drew a long, black dagger from his belt, the sides of the blade etched with powerful runes.

"Hurry, Kitiara! You have to use this when you kill Dalamar!"

"I'm trying!" snapped the Dark Lady, slamming her weapon against the agile blade slashing in front of her.

The glowing sword slid along the edge of Kitiara's blade, creating a stream of bright sparks. It slipped away, weaving and ducking, then zipping behind the death knight.

"Look out!" warned Skie.

The ruby sword rammed itself into Kitiara's back, punching through her torso and out her stomach. Kitiara groaned, falling to her knees, wisps of black vapor pouring from her wound. The glowing sword disappeared as Dalamar walked toward Kitiara, his wand leveled at her.

"I'm sorry I have to do this," said Dalamar.

Kitiara gave the dark elf her crooked smile, raising her open right palm at the mage. The fireball leapt from her hand into Dalamar, blasting him off his feet, sending him hurling through the air to fall in a heap several dozen paces away.

"Give me the knife!" ordered Kitiara.

Skie slapped the dagger into Kitiara's hand, hanging back while she strode confidently towards the moaning wizard. She pushed Dalamar onto his back with the tip of her left boot, crouching over his crotch with the point of her dagger aimed at his heart.

"I'm not sorry I have to do this," mocked Kitiara, raising the dagger slightly before she prepared to ram it home.

Skie's death scream shook the entire neighborhood. Kitiara became fully erect, turning to see a dragonlance jutting out of Skie's chest. The robed human exploded into dragon form, the flesh of his chest melting from the killing magic of the dragonlance.

"Kitiara," groaned Skie, his reptilian eyes filled with agony as he looked at Kitiara one last time. The blue dragon fell forward onto his belly, his head resting on the torn street, his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier until they finally closed with death.

"NO!" shouted Kitiara, tossing away the black dagger in favor of her long sword. She charged the Knights standing around Skie's corpse, a tall male holding the dragonlance that had slain her friend. Kitiara slammed her sword against the dragonlance, knocking it aside, then spinning in place to hack the Knight's head from his shoulders.

"Commander!" screamed Linsha, dipping low to slash up at Kitiara. The death knight parried the strike, but stepped back from Linsha's next attack, both women stabbing and swinging, their blades ringing loudly in the boulevard.

"Dalamar," sighed Ayarlin with relief as she knelt at the fallen mage's side, supporting him with her right arm. She opened a vial, offering Dalamar a potion of healing. Dalamar gulped down the potion eagerly while Linsha and Kitiara traded blows.

"You're not bad, girl, but you have much to learn," grinned Kitiara, slamming her left foot into Linsha's right leg. Linsha staggered, providing an opening for Kitiara's blade. Kitiara slashed upward, laying open Linsha's breastplate, slicing deep into the flesh underneath. Blood sprayed out into the air, Linsha staggering and falling onto her back.

"Your turn, dark elf," growled Kitiara, leveling her dripping sword as she turned to face Dalamar. Kitiara marched implacably towards the weak mage, death burning in her dark eyes.

Ayarlin stood up, shielding Dalamar with her body.

"Ayarlin! Get out of the way!" gasped Dalamar as he struggled to stand up.

"Stupid elf," snorted Kitiara, impaling Ayarlin before the elf woman could cast a spell.

"Ayarlin!" screamed Dalamar, his eyes wide with shock.

Ayarlin slid off of Kitiara's sword, falling bonelessly to the street stones.

"Undead bitch!" spat Dalamar, snatching a glass rod wrapped with rat fur from one of his pouches. He shouted the spell incantation, the rod shattering as a blue lightning bolt exploded from the instrument and snapped through the air to strike Kitiara. The death knight flew backwards, her breastplate scorched and smoking. Kitiara fell down heavily, her sword flying from limp fingers. Dalamar stood hunched over, his skin feverish and sweating, as he withdrew another fur-covered rod, preparing to cast another bolt.

Kitiara pushed herself back onto her feet, ducking into an alleyway. Dalamar followed a squad of Knights into the alley, to find that the death knight had disappeared from sight. The elven wizard left the Knights to their futile searching so he could kneel next to Ayarlin's body. The elf woman barely breathed, her skin deathly pale and cold.

"Ayarlin," whispered Dalamar, wrapping his arms around her, resting her against his body.

"Dalamar," smiled Ayarlin, her eyes barely open, each breath more and more ragged.

"I...I don't know what to say. No one has ever done such a thing for me."

"I love you," replied Ayarlin simply, reaching up to touch Dalamar's cheek.

Dalamar covered Ayarlin's hand with his, tears falling heavily from his burning eyes.

"I love you," murmured Dalamar, kissing Ayarlin's knuckles.

Ayarlin's smile widened, then her eyes slowly closed, her face relaxing.

"No," moaned Dalamar, hugging Ayarlin to his chest, his body shuddering with grief.

Kitiara watched the sun rise over the sea, its rays making the waves glitter like tumultuous diamonds. She turned to regard Skie's empty tower, a black spire that seemed bleaker with its master gone. The death knight walked to her waiting steed, a nightmare with smoldering red eyes and smoke-filled nostrils. The nightmare snorted a small cloud of sulfur, stamping one of his front hooves on the ground impatiently. Kitiara slid up easily into the saddle, holding her reins while taking one last look at the tower and the sea. She guided the nightmare until he faced the south, then she snapped the reins, pounding out into the empty plain.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Linsha Majere. I offer my condolences for your former commander, Darach," said Dalamar as he stood before the Knight Commander's desk.

"And I grieve for Ayarlin, she was a good friend and a brave woman," replied Linsha, her torso heavily bandaged to prevent her wound from re-opening.

"Yes, she was very brave," whispered Dalamar, lowering his face.

"What will you do?"

"I'm leaving Palanthas. With the Tower gone, I don't have a home anymore. I'm going to wander for awhile, perhaps visit the Tower of Wayreth."

"Do you want an escort? Kitiara might try to attack you again."

"I am a wizard of the Black Robes, I do not need Knights of Solamnia to guard me!" snapped Dalamar. The dark elf sighed before saying, "Forgive me. No, I do not want an escort."

"Very well," nodded Linsha. "Safe journey."

Dalamar smiled wanly, nodding in acknowledgment before hefting his walking staff and shouldering his backpack. Dalamar left Knight's House, looking briefly at the tumbled ruin of the Tower before following one of the roads that led out of Palanthas.

The singing began just after dusk, a loud, haunting melody that reached down into Laurana's bones. The elf woman slid out of bed, dressed only in a thin sleeping gown as she left her room and descended the stairs to Soth's throne chamber. The broken chandelier rested in the center of the room, a perch for three elven ghosts who sang to their master. Soth sat in his chair, pale chin resting on his clenched left hand, while he listened to the tune he was cursed to hear for all eternity. Soth's glowing red eyes regarded Laurana as she walked around the chandelier, her eyes wide, her hands entwined together in front of her breasts, while she listened raptly to the shrill music. When Laurana stood in front of Soth, she began to sway to the singing, her slim body writhing like a charmed serpent.

The death knight leaned back upon his throne, watching Laurana dance, spinning slowly, her arms outstretched, her golden hair unfolding like a silken veil. One of the ghosts fluttered off the chandelier, hanging behind Laurana with white, ethereal arms outstretched, caressing the elf woman's shoulders. The ghost pushed aside the straps of Laurana's sleeping gown, the garment slipping down to her feet. Laurana swayed her bare hips, running her hands over her thighs, then up her stomach to her alluring breasts. She caressed them, sliding her fingers over her nipples while the ghost behind her kissed her right shoulder, then the side of her neck. A second ghost flew between Laurana's legs, sliding its delicate hands up the elf woman's calves. The ghost rolled around until it faced Laurana's crotch, then floated up, pressing its ethereal face against Laurana's pussy.

Laurana shivered, the ghost's lips cool against her cunt as the undead creature kissed her clitoris. The ghost floating behind Laurana reached around to cup the elf woman's breasts, glowing, feather light fingers touching and fondling the soft, creamy mounds. The ghost between Laurana's legs began licking the woman's cunt, its tongue chill as it delved into Laurana's warm slit. The third ghost's song rang in Laurana's ears as she stood within the undead's embrace, her pussy becoming warm from the elven specter's sensual licking. The ghost fondling Laurana's breasts tilted her head, then kissed her, their mouths joining, the ghost's lips draining the life from Laurana's flesh. Laurana shuddered, her life fading, but her pussy on fire with lust, the apparition against her cunt sucking on her clit, then thrusting its tongue into Laurana's tender vagina. The ghost sucking the elf's cunt stroked her smooth white thighs, warming its glowing hands upon Laurana's hot, living skin. The ghost kissing Laurana pulled away, sticking a finger into the elf woman's mouth while it licked the side of her throat. Laurana moaned, her legs trembling, honey slipping down her thighs as she orgasmed. Laurana's hips shook, her cunt aching while her vagina clenched reflexively around nothing.

The ghosts slipped away from Laurana, returning to their perches in order to join their sister in new song. Laurana collapsed onto the filthy floor, her breasts shuddering, clammy perspiration on her skin. She looked up at Lord Soth, ashamed of what she had done, hating how he had sat and watched while she was ravished. Lord Soth returned Laurana's glare, and smiled.

======

Laleh Majere's head nodded in her upraised left palm, her eyes slowly closing as the instructor droned on and on about proper safety procedures during the casting of a spell. The old wizard's words slurred into an unintelligible buzz, lulling Laleh ever deeper into repose. The girl didn't know how much time passed until the instructor rang the bell to dismiss class. Laleh jerked awake, automatically stuffing her unopened books into her shoulder satchel and joining the other students who were fighting to get through the choked doorway. Laleh burst out the open front doors of the school, inhaling the fresh air, blinking from the strong glare of the sun. She adjusted her satchel over her left shoulder and ran down the dusty path towards Solace.

Laleh was gasping for breath when she reached the door of the Inn of the Last Home. She pushed the portal open, spying her mother helping grandma with a platter covered tray.

"Laleh! Get a wet cloth and wash off tables!" instructed Usha Majere tersely while she carried the heavily laden tray to a table of waiting customers.

"Moooom!" whined Laleh petulantly.

"Don't argue," countered Usha.

The blonde-haired girl stomped across the common room, then behind the serving counter to retrieve a washing cloth. She glared at her mother on the way to a recently abandoned table. Laleh slapped the cloth over the tabletop, violently scrubbing the smooth vallenwood.

When the dinner crowd had departed and only the night's guests remained to sip ale and exchange the latest news, Laleh made her escape, snatching two of her grandmother's fresh rolls from a basket on the bar. She descended the stairwell, sprinting across the west side of town to Crystalmir Lake. The teenage girl passed through the light forest foliage, emerging near the wide lake's shore. She took off her shoes, digging her toes into the soft, wet ground as she walked north along the water's edge. Laleh found her favorite sitting rock and sat down, swaying her feet beneath the cool waves. She nibbled on her rolls, watching the sun set in an explosion of red and gold.

"There you are," said Palin, appearing from the forest's shadow.

"Oh! Father!" exclaimed Laleh, wiping roll crumbs from her chin.

"My young dreamer," sighed Palin, bending down to kiss the top of Laleh's head. "Your instructor tells me you were sleeping in class again."

"He's so boring!" explained Laleh. "He just goes on and on about safety and formulas! I want to learn how to feel magic!"

"Magic isn't a toy, Laleh, it can kill if the user isn't prepared."

"I know," mumbled Laleh.

Palin sighed to himself, resting his right hand on his daughter's left shoulder.

"Come."

"Where are we going?" asked Laleh as she stood up, brushing crumbs off of her light dress.

"The Tower of Wayreth. The Conclave is gathering."

"The Tower of High Sorcery!" breathed Laleh in awe, her eyes wide.

"Yes," smiled Palin, ushering Laleh in front of him. "Perhaps a trip to the Tower will help you learn proper focus."

"The Audience Hall is prepared as you instructed," said Abrena from the balcony entrance.

"Good, very good," smiled Ulrym from the railing, his eyes looking out across the night-cloaked city of Neraka. "I will retrieve the last component I will need."

Before Abrena could inquire, the Dragon Orb flashed within Ulrym's hands. A vortex of air spun around the wizard, hurling him high into the air. The leader of the Dark Knights watched the mage disappear into the southwest, her mouth set in a grim line.

Laleh dismounted from her docile grey pony, rubbing her sore butt. The girl and her father had halted just south of the Ahlanas River, the Kharolis Mountains looming to the east.

"Rest and eat something, I'm going to check the forest," said Palin, his hood pulled up to shield his face from the sun as he walked south towards the northern edge of the Wayreth Forest. Laleh adjusted the wide-brimmed straw hat she wore before rummaging in one of her saddlebags for a piece of cheese, an apple, and her water flask. She sat on the soft grass a short distance away from the ponies, biting into her cheese wedge while observing her father staring into the thick woods. The afternoon wore away, Laleh finished her lunch, refilled her flask, then sat back down, tilting back and forth, her father as still as a statue.

"Let's go!" snapped Palin abruptly, spinning around and striding quickly towards his waiting pony.

Laleh obeyed eagerly, jumping back into her saddle and following her father into the cool, shaded forest. They followed a trail that ran in a straight line, leading deep into the forest's heart. They emerged into a huge clearing, and in the center stood the tall Tower of High Sorcery, the Last Tower.

"It's beautiful!" smiled Laleh as she tilted her head up to admire the two smooth spires.

"Move along," urged Palin, his pony already moving towards the main gates of the Tower's protective wall.

The huge gates swung silently open at Palin's approach. He rode inside without hesitation, followed closely by Laleh. The doors closed quietly behind the girl as she rode across a small courtyard to the fore tower. Palin dismounted, slinging his saddlebags over his right shoulder. He waited briefly for Laleh before entering the fore tower's doorway. Laleh rushed after her father, passing through the door, and into darkness.

Kitiara sat against the smooth tree trunk, idling gazing into the small fire she had built. She didn't need the fire's warmth, as a Death Knight she required neither heat nor comfort. She had built the fire anyway, as a reminder of other fires she had sat with, other times when she had been a living, breathing warrior who gloried in battle.

"A bad night to be alone," observed Clawar as he crouched next to the fire facing Kitiara.

"What do you want?" asked Kitiara wearily, her glowing eyes still staring into the dancing flames.

"To aid you, for a price, of course," smiled Clawar, his fangs gleaming in the light.

"How can you help me?"

"I've heard about your latest misadventure, how you tried to kill Dalamar in order to become human again," grinned the draconian.

"So?"

"I can help you achieve what you desire, I can help you kill Dalamar."

"I need a special blade."

"This? I retrieved it from Palanthas," said Clawar, withdrawing the enchanted dagger from the folds of his cloak.

Kitiara looked at the dagger, then raised her eyes to Clawar, "What is your price?"

"For now, I need a battle leader," replied Clawar, rising up. "Do we have a deal or not?"

"We have a deal, for now," said Kitiara, smothering the small campfire with the heel of her left boot.

"Why has the Conclave been summoned?" asked Palin, unclasping his travel cloak and folding it over his left arm, his white robes shining in the pale light of the Hall of Mages.

"The Conclave thought you would like to hear Dalamar's report," replied a Red Robe.

"What has happened?"

"The Palanthas Tower is no more. Two renegade wizards using a Flying Citadel destroyed it," said Dalamar, his face shadowed by his raised hood, his hands concealed in his wide, black sleeves.

"So, this truly is the Last Tower," sighed Palin, his face creased in a deep frown.

The other assembled wizards muttered to each other, still distressed from the news brought by the dark elf.

"Have you tracked down these renegades?" inquired Palin.

"Scrying magics have all failed," replied a White Robe, "and the Flying Citadel hasn't appeared near any of the major cities."

"One strange thing has happened since then," remarked Dalamar. "Laurana has disappeared."

"Tanis' wife?" asked Palin.

"The same. A wild elf is organizing a rescue force, he thinks that undead may have abducted her."

"Soth," whispered Palin.

Dalamar simply nodded.

"Why would Soth help renegade wizards?"

"To find a cure for his curse, of course," answered Dalamar. "He cannot die in his current form."

"Renegades couldn't hope to acquire the magics necessary to free a death knight!" scoffed a Red Robe.

"They possessed a Flying Citadel, and one of them had a Dragon Orb," declared Dalamar.

"A Dragon Orb! Impossible!" muttered the Conclave members.

"An Orb radiates a strong magical resonance. Perhaps we could search for it?" suggested Palin, hands clasped behind his back as he paced the huge, cavernous Hall.

Laleh sat in a heavily cushioned chair, chin resting on hands, gazing out the window at the black forest beneath her. The single moon shined in the clear, velvet sky, casting everything in bright silver. Laleh sighed, as bored in the richly appointed room as she usually was in her stuffy classroom. All at once, Laleh sat up straight, the roots of her pale blonde hair tingling, her blood pulsing in her veins. A star descended from the sky, becoming brighter and brighter as it drew closer. Laleh watched the star with enormous eyes, her mouth slack from the small orb's blinding glow. A thunder crack knocked Laleh from her feet. She fell heavily onto her tailbone, the entire room shaking from the crash outside. The girl hopped back to her feet, racing to the window, face frozen in amazement as tongues of crackling blue lightning snapped across a flashing wall of magic. The protective dome of the Tower came from the building's powerful wards, placed there by the Tower's builders centuries before. The shield flashed constantly, repelling the lances of blue energy that whipped against the barrier again and again. The hiss of lightning became so loud that Laleh covered her ears, backing away from the window.

The wards collapsed without warning, the protective shield shattering like a gigantic bowl of glass. Lightning struck the north tower, blasting away huge pieces of stone. The floor trembled again, making Laleh stumble into a wall.

A black-robed man hovered just outside the window, holding a glowing white orb to his chest.

"A girl with blood rich in magic," recited Ulrym, thrusting the Orb towards Laleh.

The Orb shimmered with multi-colored hues, spitting out a clutch of oily black tentacles. The tendrils slithered around Laleh's arms and legs, pulling her off her feet towards the leering wizard. Ulrym turned, rising up into the night, Laleh trailing after him by gleaming black strings.

"The Tower's wards have failed!" screamed a Black Robe as the Hall of Mages shook and groaned around the Conclave.

"It has to be Ulrym! Only a Dragon Orb would have the power to overwhelm those wards!" shouted Dalamar over the din.

Palin teleported out of the Hall to the threshold of the fore tower. He gazed up just in time to see Laleh fade into the darkness above, in the clutches of the renegade mage and his Orb.

"Laleh," moaned Palin, his face stricken with despair.

"I can retrieve her," said Dalamar from the black doorway.

"I'll give you anything if you bring her back. I'll...I'll even relinquish my position as Head of the Conclave."

"Keep your title, Majere," snorted Dalamar. "I want revenge on Ulrym for what he did to my Tower."

The dark elf removed a raven feather from a belt pouch, snapping out the words of the flight spell. Dalamar's black cloak billowed around his legs before he shot up into the air, speeding after Ulrym and his captive like a war shaft from a long bow.

The Temple of Darkness loomed ahead, like the corrupt heart of a rotten apple. Laleh shivered from the cold wind that washed over her as she dangled in the air beneath Ulrym. Mage and girl descended, landing on a short balcony that opened into a large bedroom. The tendrils loosened on Laleh, pushing her into the bedroom. Laleh stumbled, falling next to one of the huge bed's polished wooden poles.

"We still have time before the ceremony. It would be a pity if you died a virgin," laughed Ulrym as he walked into the room, closing the glass doors behind him.

"Keep away from me!" snapped Laleh, her eyes searching the bedroom for a possible weapon.

Ulrym made a motion with his right hand, and the ropes that hung from the bed's canopy shot forward, binding Laleh's arms and dragging her back onto the bed's wide surface. Laleh tugged on the soft, yet strong cords that held her wrists, her legs thrashing from her struggles. Ulrym set the Orb on a dresser table before untying the belt around his robed torso. The young wizard slipped out of his sleek black robes, stalking towards the bed where Laleh lay bound. The girl stared at Ulrym like a rabbit before a snake, her small breasts pumping, her mouth gasping sharply. Ulrym crawled onto the bed, his eyes locked on Laleh's terrified face, his lips curling into an oily smile that promised debasement and cruel violation.

"No!" screamed Laleh, resuming her struggles as Ulrym caressed her thighs.

Ulrym glanced at the Orb, which responded with a gentle pulse of rosy light. Laleh abruptly stopped struggling, she lay motionless on the bed, her eyes gazing up blankly at the velvet purple canopy above her. Ulrym smiled with satisfaction, stroking the girl's inner thighs, sliding her dress up over her waist. He pulled the light dress up to Laleh's bound wrists, then left the garment there while he lowered his mouth to her young tits, licking her nipples, circling them until they hardened. Ulrym ran his hands over Laleh's thin arms, licking the silky skin, tasting her clean, young flesh. He covered Laleh's slack lips with his mouth, sucking, probing between her jaws with his tongue. The mage ran his left hand through the girl's thick, blonde hair, licking and kissing down the left side of her throat. He returned to her slick breasts, sucking on the soft mounds while pressing his right hand over her pussy, massaging the pink slit with his agile fingers.

The ensorcelled girl moaned softly, her lips trembling as Ulrym fingered her cunt, rubbing up and down, then inserting an index finger, delving deep into her warm vagina. Ulrym slid his finger in and out of Laleh's pussy, stimulating her until his finger was drenched in her juices. He removed the finger, sucking her honey from it, growling with pleasure. He spread her slim, bare legs apart, kneeling between them, his cock aimed at her vulnerable slit. He pushed forward, his member slipping into Laleh's vagina, the folds of slick flesh squeezing along the length of his pole. Ulrym groaned, grasping Laleh's bent kneecaps and pumping with his hips. Laleh moaned louder, drool escaping down the right side of her mouth as Ulrym fucked her pussy, the sides of his tool rubbing against the glistening lips of her twat. Ulrym moved his hands from Laleh's knees to her tits. He fondled the naked girl's breasts, the flesh smooth and warm beneath his palms. Ulrym rammed deep into Laleh's belly, his cock throbbing, becoming more and more swollen with cum until it could hold no more, squirting streams of white cream between Laleh's ivory thighs.

"You're a woman now," giggled Ulrym, stroking Laleh's left cheek before rising to dress. Laleh lay still upon the bed, sticky cum splashed over her legs, a single tear gleaming at the corner of her left eye.

Ulrym held Laleh against him, one arm wrapped around her slim waist for support, as they crossed the span of stone to Takhisis' Gate. Abrena waited impatiently for the mage dressed in her black, polished platemail, her left hand resting uneasily on her swordhilt. Ulrym took his time walking to the altar that waited for him and his young prize. When they reached the table of black obsidian, Ulrym tugged off Laleh's black robe, then helped the naked girl climb onto the table's top, straightening her on her back, arms at her sides and legs pressed together. The wizard reached into a robe pouch, withdrawing a marble-sized Dragon Orb. The Orb grew back to its normal size before Ulrym placed it on top of Laleh's flat stomach. The Orb glowed warmly, flashing from one color to another as Ulrym began the spell of release, his hands moving above the Orb, his voice strong and confident. Abrena felt heat emanate from the Orb, she backed away, watching as a crack formed on the Orb's surface, followed by a second, and then a third. Thick mist flowed out of the Orb's cracks, spilling over Laleh's naked body and falling onto the floor of the Gate. The mist expanded, moving in streams like long, questing tendrils. One stream washed over Abrena's boots, she bit her lower lip, unsheathing part of her sword, her hand throbbing as she held her blade's pommel in a death grip.

The Dragon Orb shattered, fragments of crystal flying everywhere. A shrill scream filled the air, an ear-shattering scream of elation and bloodlust. A winged shadow rose from the mist cloud, a dragon-shaped being which absorbed light and life. But before the dragon form could plunge its claws into Laleh's chest, a lightning bolt sizzled through the air and smashed into the monster's chest. The dragon screamed again, this time in agony.

Ulrym spun, to gasp as a swarm of glowing green darts impaled into his chest. Torso smoking, Ulrym glanced at Abrena helplessly before falling onto his back. A dark blur flew past the dark knight. She bared her sword, barely blocking a blow from Dalamar's staff. Mage and knight fought, Abrena preventing Dalamar from reaching Laleh. The mage jumped backward, leveling a wand at Abrena. The governor-general ducked, evading another fork of lightning that snapped through the air to hit the shadow dragon a second time, provoking another reverberating scream of pain.

Laleh groaned, pressing her left hand over her forehead. She sat up, then yelped when she realized she was naked and lying on a black stone table surrounded by clinging, grey mist. She looked up to see an elf fighting with an armored woman. Laleh narrowed her eyes, examining the elf's sharp features and dark hair.

"Dalamar!" whispered Laleh, recognizing the dark elf from her father's descriptions.

The young girl tentatively climbed off the altar, the mist cold and wet against her bare skin. She looked around for a weapon to use against the warrior woman, her eyes lighting on Ulrym's dead body.

"I'm going to relish killing you, elf!" spat Abrena, slashing down at Dalamar with her sword. Dalamar parried the blade with his black wood staff, then rammed the tip against Abrena's breastplate. He hissed a word, igniting the tip of the staff, purple flame searing through the black plate. Abrena shouted in alarm, backing away, her breastplate smoking. Something tugged on Abrena's ankles. The woman looked down, and saw Laleh tug a belt snug around her ankles. Dalamar swung down with his staff, forcing Abrena to parry. The knight became unbalanced, teetering back and forth, then falling over the side of the walkway. Screaming, Abrena was saved in mid-fall by the shadow dragon, which carried her up into the dark recesses of the ceiling.

"Am I glad to see you, Dalamar!" grinned Laleh happily.

"No time. My flight spell could cease at any moment," announced the dark elf before he hugged Laleh close to him and shot up into the air, retracing his route out of the Temple of Darkness.

"Sssso hungry," groaned the shadow dragon, one razor sharp claw dragging over Abrena's left cheek, drawing blood. The dragon bent down, extending a long, slime-covered tongue to lick the sweet red fluid from Abrena's horrified face.

"You would make an exsssscellent meal," grinned the dragon, "but I require your body for a greater purpose."

The dragon pried Abrena's mouth open, then oozed its head inside, flowing down her throat. Abrena's eyes were wide as she felt the dragon pour down into her belly, flowing like ice water through every vein and organ of her body. Abrena shuddered, then twitched. She stood up, moving to the ledge that gave a grand view of the Audience Hall and the mist-veiled altar. Abrena nodded in satisfaction, gloved hands folded behind her back.

"Laleh!" exclaimed Palin, rushing forward to crush his daughter in a relieved hug. Laleh laughed, returning her father's embrace.

"You did well, Dalamar," praised one of the Conclave members.

Dalamar snorted before turning to leave through the protective wall's gates.

"Dalamar!" called Palin.

The dark elf glanced back, waiting.

"Thank you for saving my daughter, I can never repay you."

"Your uncle made me what I am today, gave me all my knowledge, opened the path of Magic to me, I could do no less for his descendants," replied the dark elf with a shrug.

"Then do one more service for the Majere line, train my daughter in magic."

"What?!" gasped Laleh.

Dalamar looked at the girl, then back at Palin. He smiled, nodding.

"Very well."

"Go with him, Laleh. He will teach you the focus and discipline you require."

"But father!"

"Go," repeated Palin.

Laleh closed her mouth in mid-protest. She looked at Dalamar, then back at her father. She sighed softly, walking towards the waiting dark elf. Dalamar bowed briefly at Palin, then resumed walking through the gateway, his new, reluctant apprentice trailing after him.

~~~~~~