THE AMBITION OF NAGASH

The sun hung high in the clear sky above the lands of the Border Princes. Gwen the Elf girl slept deeply upon her small cot, her hands shackled above her head by cold, iron manacles and thick chains. The merchant lord was outside the tilting wagon, overseeing the progress of his caravan and the deployment of his guards as he rode a docile mare. The wagon train approached the tall, granite face of the Black Mountains, surrounded by trees and thick vegetation that thrived along the foot of the imposing range.

The fat merchant dozed upon his saddle until a black feathered arrow sprung forward and impaled his neck. Flicking his eyes wide open and clutching his spurting throat, the merchant lord fell limply from his saddle as an Ork raiding party charged from the trees and attacked the caravan guards. Swords rang throughout the countryside as the human soldiers tried to beat back the snarling Ork bandits, but slowly gave way to superior numbers and the attackers' bloodlust.

Ramming his sword deeply into a guard's stomach, the Ork leader laughed with pleasure, then shoved the dying warrior from his steed before moving on to another target. Within minutes, the entire caravan's guard contingent was dead and prone upon the cold ground. The triumphant Orks eagerly began searching the bodies for money and other valuables as the leader marched to the lead wagon and stepped inside. The green-skinned creature's blood-shot eyes grew wide in surprise as he gazed at the beautiful, slumbering body of the chained Elf girl. He licked his glistening fangs with a black tongue as he advanced into the wagon and sat upon the cot next to the unconscious female. The Ork slowly ran his right claw across Gwen's bare thigh, tracing a line up her smooth, creamy skin. The Elf girl moaned softly in her sleep, rolling onto her back and allowing the Ork chieftain a full look at her round, naked breasts encircled in a tight, black, leather harness.

Just as the Ork reached forward to run his claws over Gwen's rising and falling tits, a shout emerged from outside. Snarling with frustration, the chieftain left his helpless victim and jumped out of the wagon with his sword in hand. One of the Ork raiders pointed south, towards an advancing cloud of dust. The Ork leader snatched the reins of a nearby horse, then climbed into the saddle and urged the animal forward. Other Orks from the raiding party claimed their own steeds, then followed their chieftain as archers prepared to fire on the oncoming strangers. Squinting with concentration, the chieftain watched as the dust cleared away revealing four humans on horses. The Ork roared a challenge as he lashed his mount forward, holding his bloodied sword high as he advanced.

Mark snatched a dagger from his belt, then aimed at the screaming Ork leader and flung his weapon forward. The twirling knife slammed into the chieftain's throat, sending the dead Ork backwards from the saddle and into the dirt. Amy quickly chanted a spell with her right hand outstretched, hurling a blazing Fireball into the huddled archers in the rear. A loud explosion shook the ground as deadly flames devoured the unprepared Orks where they stood, melting flesh and consuming equipment. Tom readied his mace, swinging it forward to smash into an Ork raider's skull. Blood and pink brains coated the cleric's weapon as he swung it in wide arcs, crushing Ork ribs and limbs with calm skill. Mark drew his own short sword, riding forward to slice an Ork with many painful slashes. The raider tried to parry the human thief's lightning quick swings, but he was far too slow. Mark killed the bleeding Ork with a neck slash, then opened his stomach for good measure. Intestines and pumping organs spewed out to flop wetly to the ground as Mark rode past his dead prey and searched for a new foe. Thrown into disarray by the ferocity of the humans' attack, the surviving Ork bandits ran away in full rout, dropping weapons and gear as they disappeared back into the trees.

Mark cleaned his sword, then dismounted to reclaim his dagger as Tom rushed towards the lead wagon and climbed inside. Amy and Elita stayed on their horses and watched the treeline as the cleric found the dazed Elf girl and unlocked her from her manacles.

"Tom!" exclaimed Gwen as she wrapped her arms around the priest and hugged him tightly. The shy young man was very conscious of the Elf girl's bare breasts rubbing against his chest, forcing him to break away from his friend and blush hotly. Gwen looked down at her unclothed condition, then blushed herself until Tom found a large, black tunic for her to wear. The Elf girl had her long, blonde hair spilling down her back, the tunic hanging down to just below her crotch. She still wore the leather choke collar, as well as her thigh-length, black, leather boots. Gwen flexed her black gloved hands, restoring circulation to her arms and wrists. She smiled warmly at Tom, her luscious red-painted lips inviting the cleric to kiss them. "I thought that you guys would never find me."

"I knew a spell that helped us locate you," explained Tom as he lowered his gaze to the wagon's floor, avoiding Gwen's bright, blue eyes.

"Thanks again," replied the Elf girl tenderly as she squeezed Tom's left hand, then grabbed a nearby swordbelt and fastened it around her slim waist as she eagerly left the dark interior of the wagon. Tom looked at the small, grey cot, lingering his gaze on the iron manacles and the stains upon the cot's fabric. He leaned down to inhale, smelling Gwen's musky scent as well as the lingering smell of sex. With burning cheeks, Tom gulped a desperate breath, then quickly left the stifling wagon.

"Where we going now?" asked Mark impatiently as he remounted his horse.

"To the Empire," replied Amy as she tugged on her mount's reins and led the party into Black Fire Pass.

Nagashizzar, Stronghold of the Undead Lord Nagash

Nagash sat calmly upon his huge throne of bones as two wights carried a wrapped bundle into the cavernous audience hall and deposited their burden upon the cold floor.

"Unwrap him," commanded the Supreme Lord of the Undead.

Obeying their master, the wights revealed the shredded and crushed body of John, who had once served Nagash as a powerful necromancer.

"Fool. You had better serve me more skillfully in death than you did in life," snarled Nagash as he outstretched his right arm and summoned his dark power. Purple lightning gathered in the Undead Lord's hand until he released it, sending it into the decaying corpse of his slave. John twitched and convulsed as his body was repaired and invigorated with Nagash's evil magick. Staggering to his feet, John's flesh took on a cold, grey hue as he opened black eyes with red irises. Lanky, thin, black hair fell to his shoulders as he straightened his torn, black robes, then bowed low at the waist towards his watching lord.

"You failed in your mission to reclaim my Crown. Now I have but a single task for you. Find the humans that you brought to this world and seize them. Kill the men, but bring the wenches to me," ordered Nagash with a threatening growl.

"It shall be done," replied John the liche with a respectful bow before he spun around and marched out of the audience hall.

Nagash waited until his new liche servant left the chamber, then he motioned with his hand towards one of the guard ghouls. The scabby-skinned humanoid shambled out of the main doors, returning with a beautiful woman who had pale, white skin and long, black hair that hung below her shapely waist. She dressed in a form-fitting black, silk dress with a narrow slit between her full breasts and slits on either flank, allowing brief glimpses of her lovely, slim legs.

"I want you to travel to Altdorf and recover my Crown of Sorcery," said Nagash as he stared with burning red eyes at the waiting female.

"The humans guard it inside a vault deep within the Imperial Palace," informed the brunette calmly.

"I'm aware of that, Rachel," snapped Nagash with a sharp glare. "Do whatever you have to in order to get my Crown!"

"As you wish, master," acknowledged the female vampire with a graceful curtsy before she disappeared in a swirl of grey mist.

The party of adventurers rode swiftly through Black Fire Pass until they reached the ruins of two small forts. Over a company of infantry and light horse camped at the exit of the Pass, preventing the companions from entering the Empire. A squad of swordsmen jogged towards the waiting riders, demanding their names and business. Amy smiled with charm, then paid the sergeant a heavy bribe to write each of them papers of transit and allow them free entry into the Empire. Returning the pretty redhead's smile with a black-toothed grin of his own, the soldier did as Amy asked, then escorted them past the military camp.

Resuming their gallop, Amy led the companions along the Old Dwarf Road until they reached the city of Averheim. The gate sentries reviewed the group's travel papers, then allowed them entry past the city walls. Riding slowly to avoid harming the street walkers, the party rode north until they reached the outer defense wall. Elita pointed out a well-cared for inn, which Amy decided would be a good place to spend the night. Leaving the horses within a nearby stable, the companions entered the inn, rented rooms for the night, then sat within the common room to eat a hot meal. Night slowly fell over Averheim, and several townspeople entered the inn for cold drink and good company.

"How's about we turn in early, Gwen?" suggested Mark with a leer.

"Uh, sure. I feel like laying down on a soft bed," replied Gwen with a lustful smile as she twined her arm with Mark's, allowing him to guide her upstairs to their shared bedroom.

"She sure changed her attitude," remarked Tom with a frown.

"Exposure to certain drugs does release inhibitions," replied Amy clinically. "The slavers probably used drugs to keep her under control and submissive."

"Will the effects ever wear off?" asked the cleric.

"In time," answered the mage girl.

"I'm sleepy, can we go to bed?" asked Elita with a wide yawn.

"Sure," replied Amy with an affectionate smile as she stood up and led the young woman to their room.

The two women climbed up to the third floor, then walked down a brightly-lit hallway until they reached the fourth door to the left. Amy opened the portal with a iron key, then stepped aside to let Elita enter first. Closing and locking the door after herself, Amy walked over to her own small, feather bed, then quickly sat down to undress and prepare for sleep. The room was very warm, being heated by venting from the large ovens of the kitchen below. White light spilled into the room from a window between the two beds, providing the only illumination after Elita blew out the small candle upon the nightstand. Amy lay naked under her light cover sheet, staring vaguely at the ceiling as she considered how she would lead her friends north to the Chaos Gate, the only way home, to Earth. Lost in thought, Amy didn't notice as Elita slid out of her bed and sneaked over to the other side of the room. The red-haired girl gasped as Elita pulled away her sheet and climbed into the bed with her.

"What's the idea?" asked Amy in shock.

"I don't want to sleep alone tonight," replied Elita as she snuggled close to the mage girl and wrapped her arms around the startled girl's waist.

"This isn't a good idea," admonished Amy as she grew aware of Elita's budding breasts rubbing against her left arm and shoulder.

"This doesn't feel good?" asked the purple-haired girl as she lightly kissed Amy's shoulder and neck, her breath warm and seductive.

"Please...don't," moaned Amy softly as her nipples grew hard and her crotch became warm with desire.

"You're so beautiful," whispered Elita as she hugged the mage girl tight, kissing and licking her neck and cheek before she softly pressed her lips against Amy's.

The red-haired girl moaned as Elita kissed her deeply, caressing her red lips before sliding her tongue into the prone girl's mouth and exploring her throat. Amy's skin grew flush and hot as she returned the aroused girl's kisses, surrendering her naked body to her lust and hunger. Elita slowly caressed Amy's right breast, squeezing the soft flesh, then encircling the sensitive nipple with a long fingernail. Amy closed her eyes and groaned with pleasure as Elita pressed her moist lips against a bare tit, sucking loudly on sweet flesh. Amy buried her hands in Elita's long, rich, purple hair, pressing the girl's face against her tits. The lovely apprentice moved from one breast to the other, filling her hot mouth with firm melon and sucking deeply. After feeding on Amy's round orbs, Elita moved down the girl's flat stomach, kissing and licking the moaning female's skin until she reached a small mound of red pubic hair. Spreading Amy's sexy thighs apart, Elita leaned forward to lick the panting girl's pussy, tasting slick fluid that trickled out of the mage girl's cunt.

Amy placed her arms over her head, pressing against the wall with her hands as Elita buried her face in the naked girl's snatch. Fire exploded in Amy's pussy as her lover licked and sucked her labia and clit, probing her tight slit with a wet tongue. The mage girl's breasts heaved up and down as she gasped for breath, licking her full, red lips as an orgasm slowly built inside her womb. Sweat glistened on Amy's smooth brow as Elita loudly sucked her cunt, drinking her honey as it flowed out in greater quantities. The purple-haired girl caressed Amy's legs, then slid her small hands up her stomach as she licked the mage girl's labia, then firmly licked over her hard clit. Amy groaned loudly as she orgasmed, spurting hot cream into Elita's mouth as her naked body shuddered in ecstasy. The mage girl apprentice cleaned Amy's pussy with her mouth and tongue, then slid over the prone girl's slick body until she could kiss her new lover lingeringly on the lips. Amy tasted her own honey along with Elita's warm lips, causing her to smile with pleasure as she hugged the girl firmly.

====

"You two look happy," remarked Tom as the group ate breakfast.

"Really? I didn't think it showed," replied Amy as Elita sat intimately close to her.

"Do a little tongue diving last night?" asked Mark with a leer.

"None of your fucking business," snarled Amy while the young apprentice clutched her right arm possessively.

"Leave them alone, Mark," said Gwen wearily before she took a drink of juice.

"Fine, I didn't say a word," retorted Mark with a sulk.

The companions finished their morning repast, then left the inn and quickly rode north out of Averheim. Galloping swiftly, Amy and Elita led the way deeper into the Empire.

Rain lashed the darkened castle as lightning briefly illuminated the desolate gloom. In one of the castle's large chambers, a lone man sat in a plush chair while a roaring fire cast flickering light into the room. The man was pale, with extremely short white hair and a thin frame. He dressed in a black coat that hung to his ankles, and sat with his legs outstretched and crossed at the feet as he sipped slowly from a crystal glass of warm blood. The man didn't react as thunder shook the shadowy, sparsely furnished room, rain pouring in waves across a stained glass window.

"It's been a long time, Rachel," whispered the pale man as he stared vaguely into the fire.

"I've been busy. I see that you haven't done much," replied the raven-haired woman as she walked across a red carpet to where the man sat.

"When you reach my age, the outside world has lost most of its charm," said the man while he turned to gaze at the vampire female. "Would you care to sit for awhile?"

"No, my time here will be short," remarked Rachel as she stood in front of the man. "Just give me the Carstein Ring, Lacroix."

"Ah, you desire the Ring," replied Lacroix as he raised his right hand, causing the magickal ring on his hand to glimmer in the fire's light.

"Yes. Now give it to me. I don't want to destroy you, but I will if you force me to."

"Perhaps you would being doing me a favor, Rachel," said the elderly vampire with a sigh before he shot forward and slapped the woman hard across the face. Rachel fell backwards, smashing a table to rubble as she fell to the floor. Snarling with rage and exposing her sharp fangs, Rachel jumped forward in a blur, drawing close to Lacroix and slashing his face with razor sharp claws. Blood splattered the cold stone walls as Lacroix stepped back, then swung his left leg forward and slammed his foot into Rachel's stomach. The young woman grunted in pain, then flew forward and rammed her crotch into Lacroix's head. The old vampire fell to the floor, giving Rachel time to land on his chest, then slash his throat open with her blood-red nails.

Lacroix gurgled on his own lifeblood while Rachel quickly snatched the Carstein Ring from his hand and slid it onto her own. Black blood pooled underneath Lacroix's head and back, expanding to cover the floor until the old vampire was nothing but a dried up husk.

"This should improve my chances of retrieving the Crown of Sorcery," commented Rachel to herself before she spun on her high, black heels, then walked gracefully out of the darkening room.

A tall citadel sat within a sea of boiling magick. Rock melted and reformed in strange and bizarre shapes as raw Chaostuff flowed over the northern lands of the Old World. Within the forbidding citadel, servants of Chaos scurried frantically, carrying out the commands of their evil master lest his dark wrath fall upon them. Standing near an open window, watching the raw power of Chaos remake the fabric of the world, Egrimm Van Horstmann brooded quietly. A minotaur warrior carrying a deadly war-axe strode proudly into the room, then knelt submissively in front of his master.

"Are the armies ready?" rumbled the deep voice of Egrimm.

"Yes, although the clerics of Tzeentch say that our god does not favor your strategy," replied the minotaur.

"Tzeentch rewards the victorious, not the timid," retorted the dark mage as he turned away from the window and regarded his beastman cohort. "Tell the unit commanders that we move out immediately."

"Yes, lord," acknowledged the minotaur with a low bow of his horned head before he stood up and walked out of the chamber.

Grasping the skull-pommeled hilt of his mighty Chaos Rune Blade, Egrimm strode arrogantly out of the room and down the spiral stairs that led out of his fortress and into the large open courtyard below. Squads of burly minotaurs stood in square formations, stomping their hooves and brandishing their sharp weapons in fierce anticipation of battle and bloodshed. The tall mage climbed down the fortress steps below the main entrance, then crossed the courtyard to his waiting mount, a huge Chaos Dragon named Baudros.

"For the glory of Chaos!" shouted Egrimm as he stood upon his saddle and unsheathed his ebony blade. "Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!"

The army of minotaurs roared their approval, shoving their axes, polearms, and spears into the air as they stomped their feet and praised their master. Egrimm swung his sword forward, signalling his minions to march through the courtyard gates and into the open countryside where thousands of other Chaos troopers awaited their general. Baudros roared with eagerness, flapping his large, bat-like wings before he slowly rose into the air and caught a strong wind. Sailing over the massive army of monsters, Egrimm smiled in pride, sheathing his sword and taking hold of his mount's reins. The two-headed Chaos dragon responded quickly to his master's commands, flying ahead of the marching armies to herald a new invasion of the south.

John the liche rode slowly out of the hills of southwestern Stirland. He dressed in encompassing black robes and rode a gaunt, ebony stallion. Within his undead body, John held a small spark of magick that pointed the way to Amy and her companions. Judging by their progress, the liche predicted that they were heading for the Imperial city of Wurtbad, near the Stirland border. John smiled, revealing black, rotting gums and pitted teeth as he dreamed of all the exquisite agonies he would inflict on the human women and the Elf bitch. Squeezing the leather reins of his horse, John snapped them sharply, forcing the stallion into a fast gallop. The black mount ran for hours, eating up the miles and bringing the liche closer to his prey. Spotting a small farming village, John pulled back on the reins, regarding the strong hunger that gnawed in his decayed belly. As a liche, he had no need for food, but he did require more exotic sustenance. Turning his horse north, John cast a spell of Invisibility upon himself and his mount, then drew closer to the sleepy hamlet.

Night fell, a cool, clear night with a sky full of twinkling stars. John waited with the patience of the dead until he saw a young woman dressed in a white blouse and long, tan skirt leave a house and walk casually to a nearby well. Nudging his horse forward with his heels, John advanced quietly, then leaned forward to snatch the green-haired girl by the waist and place her over the front of his saddle on her stomach. Before the girl could scream for help, John slammed his right hand down on the base of her neck, knocking her unconscious. Urging his black stallion into motion, the liche rode away from the village, riding deep into the barren countryside until he was sure no one would hear his lovely victim's screams.

Slowing to a stop, John slid out of the saddle, then reached out to retrieve the limp young woman and lay her upon the hard ground. The girl was beautiful, with thick, green hair arranged in two large braids down her back. With full, red lips parted in repose, the girl's round, young breasts rose and fell rhythmically. Even though the girl only appeared to be sixteen at most, John felt no hesitation as he slapped her awake. The female opened huge, green eyes, staring in terror at the pasty-fleshed man that stood over her helpless body.

"Please..don't hurt me," begged the girl as tears welled up in her pretty eyes and began to trickle down her smooth cheeks.

"What is your name, girl?" asked John coldly.

"Ilse," whispered the jade-haired female.

"You are mine now, Ilse," hissed the liche before he reached down and ripped off the girl's thin blouse.

"NO!" screamed Ilse as she wrapped her thin arms around her bare tits.

John laughed scornfully as he grabbed both of the young woman's small wrists, then spread them apart over her head before spitting thick, black spittle on her limbs, trapping them on the ground. Ilse struggled vainly as the liche pulled up her skirt, then forced her legs apart before he grabbed the front of her white panties and tore them from her crotch. Ilse screamed again, sobbing in fear as she watched a cruel stranger stare lustfully at her exposed pussy and breasts.

"Just relax and enjoy it, little one," murmured John as he slid his gnarled hands over her heaving tits, caressing the warm, soft flesh with pleasure. Ilse watched with glistening, wide eyes as the liche painfully squeezed her breasts, pinching her pink nipples until they grew hard with arousal. John slobbered loudly, dripping cold saliva on Ilse's slim thighs and flat stomach as he kneeded her tits like soft dough, then dragged his sharp nails down her torso until he reached her warm crotch. The naked girl trembled forcefully while the liche slid the fingers of his right hand down her quivering cunt. A small patch of green pubic hair brushed against John's touch as he pressed his digits more firmly upon Ilse's slit, making her pussy throb uncontrollably. Ilse panted loudly, her firm tits rising and falling like a bellows as she felt the liche probe her fuckhole with his callous fingers. John leaned down to lick her smooth legs, enjoying the delicious taste of her living flesh. Ilse moaned loudly as John licked up and down her inner thighs, making her pussy grow wet despite her revulsion for the undead creature.

When Ilse's thighs dripped with cold saliva, John sat up on his knees, then slowly pulled away his black robes, watching the young girl's eyes grow large with dawning horror as she pondered what came next. Releasing a huge, pulsing grey-skinned penis, John rubbed his cock across Ilse's quivering legs, then gently placed it next to her glistening pussy.

"No, please, don't put that inside me," moaned Ilse pathetically as she struggled weakly in her slimy bonds.

"You know you want it, little whore," hissed John before he thrust deeply against Ilse, shoving his hard tool far into the young woman's belly. The jade-haired girl screamed in agony as the cock pierced her womanhood, destroying her virginity for all time. Fresh tears poured from Ilse's eyes as John fucked her tender pussy, pumping in and out of her tight slit. The bound girl's hips rocked back and forth as the liche slid into her, his lips spread in a fang-toothed smile of lust and cruelty as he felt the young girl's cunt wrap around his pole and squeeze it like a vice. Ilse moaned and grunted as her young body grew hot with unwanted arousal, her white skin growing flush with pulsing blood as her first orgasm began to build in her snatch. The girl's breathing became short and hesitant as she felt an uncontrollable wave of sexual pleasure burst from her womb and pour out inbetween her outspread legs. Warm, sticky honey gushed from Ilse's pussy, coating her inner thighs as well as John's engorged cock.

The liche gurgled in satisfaction as the girl's fluids coated his tool, easing the passage of his rod into her warm love tunnel. Feeling his own orgasm growing, John removed his dripping cock from Ilse's grasping cunt, then moved it forward until it hung above the gasping girl's head. Female fluid and pre-cum dripped from the liche's penis onto Ilse's bare breasts, sliding down her cleavage until it pooled over her trembling stomach. The naked, bound girl closed her eyes in disgust as she inhaled the stench of decay that wafted from John's fuckpole. Grinning maliciously, John seized Ilse by her green hair, then rammed his fat cock into her luscious lips. The girl gagged in revulsion as the throbbing rod slid down her small throat, viscous slime gathering inside her mouth until she had to swallow. The liche began pumping his crotch against the young girl's face, rubbing his black pubic hair over her small, pert nose as he forced her to suck on his rod.

Moaning weakly, Ilse slowly began sucking on John's cock, her cheeks growing taut as she tightened her red lips over his meat. The liche groaned with pleasure, caressing the girl's thick hair with his left hand before sliding his fingers down to her soft right breast. He fondled the naked girl's tit as he pumped again and again into her mouth, relishing the feel of her tongue over his pole until he shot a wad of cum down her clenching throat. Ilse gagged as she was forced to drink the liche's dark seed, then she coughed loudly after the undead creature removed his cock from her mouth and stood up. The bound, naked girl stared up in fear as John replaced his robes, then looked down at his helpless prisoner.

"I could kill you, slut," remarked John as he gazed at the young girl arrogantly. "Unfortunately for you, I think that I'll keep you around for awhile."

Ilse sobbed quietly as John reached into his saddlebags for a short, leather whip. She gazed at the dark sky, beseeching the gods to help her, but nothing stopped the black-garbed necromancer from raising his arm and lashing out to bruise the lovely girl's pale skin.

====

A cold, water-laiden wind blew through the streets of Wurtbad. Darkness covered the sky as the town's inhabitants slept in their warm homes, unaware of the evil creature that rode amongst them on a black stallion. The liche named John moved his cowled head from side to side, looking for the five adventurers that consumed his corrupt thoughts. Behind the black-garbed undead, Ilse sat close, her thin arms wrapped tightly around her master's waist just as she had been instructed to do. After crossing the bulk of Wurtbad, John halted his mount abruptly, his head jerking upwards as he caught the scent of his prey. Gazing through slitted eyes, John watched the front entrance of an inn, its windows dark as its caretakers and guests slept in blissful ignorance.

"Wait here," ordered John as he climbed out of his saddle, then walked silently into the inn's courtyard. Ilse sat very still, her will completely broken by the necromancer's cruel beating the night before. A strong wind blew the young girl's long, green hair across her face as John stood in the middle of the courtyard, staring vacantly at a particular darkened window.

Amy slept restlessly, tossing and turning within her disheveled sheets as her mind churned chaotically. The young woman hung helplessly in Astral space, her body naked and vulnerable as hungry daemons and other foul denizens fluttered around her position.

"Miss me?" whispered John softly behind the frightened mage girl.

Amy spun quickly around, launching her right hand in a slap that never connected.

"Is that any way to greet an intimate friend?" asked John wryly as he hovered in front of Amy, his arms crossed over his black-robed chest.

"Eat shit and die!" shouted Amy in anger while her fists clenched at her sides.

"Such language! I thought that you were better educated than that," chuckled John as he levitated over to the naked girl, then drew his right hand across her soft cheek.

The nude mage girl tried to strike out again, but found that her arms were frozen at her sides.

"Can't move? You still haven't gotten used to Astral space. Such a pity," frowned the liche in mock disapproval. "You'll be interested to know that my master, Nagash, has taken a personal interest in you. He has commanded me to round all of you up and take you back to his fortress, Nagashizzar. You'll find his company most..arousing."

"He's probably another sick pervert like you," spat Amy as she struggled to break free of John's mental restraints.

"Why yes, so he is!" admitted John with a harsh laugh.

"Take me and let the others go," offered the red-haired girl coldly.

"Sorry, my orders were very specific," shrugged the liche. "Although I can't believe that you would sacrifice yourself for Mark."

"I wouldn't," agreed Amy without emotion.

"Then who, Tom? No...ah, I see. You have an apprentice now, a girl named Elita. And you're lovers! Ha, that's just wonderful!" chortled John loudly.

"Leave her alone, you bastard!" shouted Amy venomously.

"Oh, no. This girl must be sampled," replied John with a lecherous smile as he called forth an image of Elita, naked and hovering within reach of the evil mage.

"Don't touch her!" screamed Amy while she watched John reach out and caress one of Elita's round tits.

"It's just an illusion, but it won't be for long," said the liche ominously before he began to fade away, laughing with pleasure at Amy's frustration and rage.

Amy shot up in bed, her long hair in disarray and her pale skin slick with sweat. Elita slowly awoke, sitting up next to Amy, then rubbing her shoulder in comfort.

"Are you okay?" asked the purple-haired girl sleepily.

"Yes, love. Go back to sleep," soothed Amy as she gently pushed Elita back down upon the bed, then stood up to gaze out of the bedroom window. She gasped softly as she discovered John standing below her room, looking up at her with glowing red eyes.

"You're mine," whispered John in Amy's mind before he turned around and walked out of the courtyard. The mage girl watched the necromancer mount a black horse with a young girl riding behind him. John glanced back at Amy once, smiling maliciously before he snapped his steed's reins and galloped away.

"Damn you, John," hissed the red-haired girl as she tightened her fingers into a fist, piercing her flesh with her sharp nails and drawing a trickle of bright, red blood.

Altdorf, capital city of the Empire

"Chaos is on the move, your majesty," reported Reiksmarshall Captain Kurt Helsberg tersely.

"Where?" inquired the current Emperor of the Empire, Karl Franz.

"Several Chaos armies under the command of a Chaos wizard have taken the fortress-city of Erengrad. They've crossed into Kislev and have destroyed dozens of villages and small towns. The Chaos spawn seem to be heading southeast, towards Kislev's capital city," replied Helsberg while he pointed out positions on a large wall map of the Old World.

"The Kislev army?" asked Franz with an upraised eyebrow.

"Their companies of heavy horsemen are slowing the Chaos advance, but every time they attempt to block the monsters, they get cut to pieces. The Kislevians just don't have the troops necessary to fortify and hold fixed positions."

"Alert the Elector Counts. I want the Imperial Army mustered and ready to march north as soon as possible," ordered the Emperor firmly.

"It shall be done, your majesty," acknowledged Helsberg with a deep bow.

"Dismissed, marshall," said Franz before he turned to regard the wall map, plotting how long it would take the Chaos army to reach the closest Imperial city.

Tom knelt at the foot of his small bed, praying quietly to his god. The silver cross that he wore around his neck glowed with a warm, golden light as the cleric clasped his hands together close to his chest.

"Forgive me, father, for I am about to sin," said Rachel behind the surprised priest's back. Tom jumped to his feet, spinning to face the intruder while clenching his holy symbol desperately.

"Did I startle you? I am sorry," smiled the vampire woman without a trace of remorse.

"Get..get out of here," sputtered Tom as he gazed at the seductive female. Rachel wore tight, black leather panties, knee-high, spike-heeled boots, and a metal-studded, leather bra. A chain-link belt hugged the brunette's shapely waist, a belt that held a leather-sheathed sword of unknown make. Rachel fingered her leather choke collar, licking her lips teasingly as she watched the cleric squirm and sweat nervously.

"I know who you are," whispered Rachel as she swayed over to where Tom stood and wrapped her slim arms around his neck. "I know that you really aren't a cleric of Light. You're just a lonely young man looking for affection and love."

"How did you find out about me?" asked Tom in shock.

"My master, Nagash the Supreme Lord of the Undead, was the one responsible for bringing you to this world. He asked me to make your stay more..pleasurable," said the vampire in a husky voice.

"Uh, I don't know," replied Tom reluctantly as Rachel slid her left leg across his crotch while she leaned down to kiss him lightly on the side of the neck. The cleric stiffened defensively as the beautiful woman continued kissing his neck and shoulders, her warm lips caressing his tight flesh until he began to relax. Rachel slid her caressing hands down Tom's back, resting them on his ass as she rubbed her breasts and crotch against the panting adventurer. Tom gave in to the demands of his body, wrapping his arms around the desirable female, sliding his hands over her bare back.

"That's good, lover. Give in to your hunger," whispered the vampiress before she kissed Tom full on the mouth, caressing his lips with her own. The cleric moaned softly as Rachel slid her wet tongue into his mouth, exploring his throat lustfully. The raven-haired woman slowly pulled her red lips away, leaving a trail of saliva across Tom's mouth. She pushed the thin man upon the feather bed, then unfastened her leather bra and let it fall to the floor. Tom gazed with longing at the vampire's full, round breasts as she untied her black panties and threw them aside. Naked except for her knee boots and collar, Rachel crawled foward onto the bed like a stalking cat, baring her dainty, pointed fangs with wanton lust burning in her eyes. Tom swallowed loudly as he allowed the naked woman to pull off his white robes, then casually remove his silver holy symbol and toss it onto the wooden floor.

"Who needs faith when you can have a good fuck," said Rachel with a smirk before she lowered herself over Tom's crotch and began licking his hardening cock with her pink tongue. The cleric groaned softly as the female vampire licked his rod enthusiastically. She moaned huskily as she slid her moist, red lips over his meat, rubbing her nose across his balls, then taking the orbs into her warm mouth. Tom clenched the sheets tightly as Rachel sucked loudly on his testicles, then moved up his cock until she was rolling her tongue around the sensitive head of his pole. The cleric unconsciously thrust his crotch upwards, shoving his cock inside Rachel's mouth as she sucked his member slutfully. She moaned with pleasure, squeezing and pinching her own tits to make her lover even more aroused and helpless.

"Yeah, baby, fuck my mouth," moaned Rachel before she resumed sucking Tom's cock, rolling her head from side to side and swinging her long, black hair as she devoured the prone man's penis with her burning lips. Tom gasped for air, his thin chest pumping like a bellows as all of his strength was diverted to his crotch. Rachel released the priest's member with her lips, then rose onto her feet long enough to lower her wet pussy onto his tool. Tom grinned in anticipation, then groaned loudly as he felt the naked woman's cunt clench around his cock and squeeze it almost painfully. The female vampire smiled like a pouncing predator as she pumped her crotch up and down Tom's pole, her bare ass sliding gracefully as she fucked the panting man mercilessly. Rachel placed her small hands on Tom's bare chest, scratching his skin until it bled lightly as she rode his cock over and over. Closing his eyes and trembling, Tom gasped as he orgasmed, shooting a thick stream of cum into Rachel's ravenous pussy. The naked woman moaned as her own orgasm struck, making her cunt clench even tighter, milking the prone man's meat until it had drank all of his cream.

Rachel collapsed onto Tom's chest, her naked body drenched in sweat as she panted softly for breath. Tom hugged the lovely woman close, caressing her smooth skin until she reared up and struck out with her fangs, burying them in the yielding flesh of his neck. Tom's eyes widened in pain and surprise, then they closed shut as his body grew weak and limp. Rachel fastened her ruby lips onto her prey's neck, devouring his rich, thick blood desperately. Drinking her fill, Rachel sat up, her breasts heaving as she savored the warm fluid she had just partaken of.

"You're mine now," whispered the female vampire before she licked her lips clean and smiled in satisfaction.

====

Amy awoke late, rising slowly from her disorderly bed and blinking her bright, green eyes sleepily.

"I thought that you'd never wake up," chided Elita with a grin.

"I guess that I finally relaxed enough to sleep," replied the mage girl as she rose slowly to her feet, then pulled on white panties and a clean bra.

"That's good, since we have a long way to go," said the purple-haired girl while she finished tying her long tresses in a ponytail, then drew close to give Amy a tender kiss on the lips.

"Perhaps we shouldn't travel to the Troll Country so soon," hedged Amy before she slid her red robe over her body, then smoothed the fabric before fastening on her thin, silk belt.

"Why?" asked Elita with a puzzled frown.

"I've heard that some bad things are going on in the Northern Wastes, it would be better to wait until things have calmed down," responded the sorceress as she combed out her long, red hair with her fingers.

"Whatever," shrugged the apprentice before she slung her satchel over her shoulder then left the chamber for the common room.

"Waiting is best," whispered Amy with a haunted look in her eyes.

Eventually, the mage girl climbed down the stairs that led to the inn's common room. The companions were already seated and enjoying breakfast when she arrived, so she sat down on one of the benches and took only a mug of juice for sustenance.

"Elita just told us you don't want to go north anymore. So? Where do we go now?"asked Mark challengingly.

"How about Altdorf? It's the capital of the Empire and a great city. I'm sure there are lots of rich merchants for you to visit," suggested Tom.

"Rich merchants, huh? Sure, let's go to Altdorf," agreed the thief enthusiastically.

"What about the Chaos Gate? Don't you want to go home?" inquired Gwen with a dark look.

"Nah, what's the rush, babe?" asked Mark before he squeezed her butt playfully. "We can always go home after we get bored here."

"What do you say, Amy?" wondered Tom curiously. "Do you agree with me?"

"Fine. Do whatever you want," muttered the sorceress vaguely as she stared out the window of the room.

"Well, that settles that," replied Tom with a charming smile. "We go to Altdorf!"

"The Royal Guard awaits you, majesty," informed Reiksmarshall Captain Kurt Helsberg.

"Thank you, marshall," acknowledged Karl Franz as he fastened his weaponsbelt onto his gleaming suit of armor.

"I still say that you should stay here to direct the army. Let me follow them into the field," urged the royal adviser.

"No, Kurt. The Emperor must oversee this campaign personally," rebuked Franz gently. "I entrust the capital to you. Keep a vigilant watch over my people."

"I swear on Sigmar's name," promised the grizzled soldier fervently.

"Excellent. Good-bye, old friend," said the Emperor as he placed his gauntleted right hand briefly on his advisor's shoulder. The two men smiled, then Karl backed away and left the ornate war room. Helsberg moved to the chamber's window, watching as his lord climbed atop Deathclaw, a mighty Griffon. With a roaring screech, Deathclaw flapped his wings, sliding into the air where he hovered over the marching army. Raising his enchanted Hammer of Sigmar, the Emperor flew northeast, towards the advancing armies of Chaos.

"Your pawns are travelling to Altdorf now, thanks to me," said Rachel smugly.

"Tom couldn't have changed their destination if I hadn't distracted that bitch, Amy," retorted John with burning eyes.

The two villains stood upon a squat hill within the realm of Talabecland. Not far to the northeast lay the Old Dwarf Road that ran south to Wurtbad. To the left of the arguing couple, Ilse sat quietly upon the liche's black stallion, Charon.

"Who gets to inform our master, Nagash?" asked John bitterly.

"You do, of course," answered Rachel with a malicious grin. "I have to go to Altdorf and lead Tom along the correct path. That is the mission that the Undead Lord gave to me."

"He told you to get the Crown of Sorcery, not use your whorish ways to seduce a cleric into doing it for you," spat John.

"The ends justify any means," replied Rachel with an icy gaze. "I suggest that you return to Cripple Peak now."

"I'll leave when I'm good and ready," said John before he spun away from the raven-haired vampire woman and began walking back to his snorting steed.

"Before you go, I require replenishment from your lovely travelling companion," called out Rachel pleasantly.

"She's just a bauble that I keep for my amusement. Do as you will," said John nonchalantly before he pulled Ilse from the saddle, then pushed her towards the waiting vampiress. Jumping into the saddle, the liche snapped his horse's reins, commanding Charon to gallop down the gentle slopes towards the narrow valley below.

"Hello, sweetmeat," whispered Rachel soothingly as she swayed over to the motionless young girl. "Don't be afraid."

Ilse stood silently, making no move to flee or do anything else as she watched the beautiful woman advance towards her.

"John did a good job of breaking you," observed the vampire as she caressed the pretty girl's cheek with a sharp, red fingernail.

The green-haired girl merely looked up at the hungry vampire, her expression vacant and without emotion.

"Humph! Oh, well," shrugged Rachel before she reached behind the girl and unbound her long, green hair. Licking her lips, the vampire slowly removed Ilse's brown shift, then fondled the girl's pert, ripening breasts. Ilse closed her eyes and moaned pleasantly, making Rachel smile and squeeze the soft tits more vigorously. The naked girl panted softly as the woman moved behind her, delicate hands sliding across smooth, pale flesh until the vampire caressed her small, tight ass. Ilse clasped her hands together against her bosom as Rachel squeezed and scratched her smooth butt.

Reaching between thin, closed thighs, the vampire woman caressed Ilse's small pussy, making the girl groan with arousal.

"That feels good, doesn't it?" purred Rachel as she hugged the naked girl against her, rubbing the child's cunt until it grew wet with honey. Ilse grew limp in the woman's embrace, her thighs spreading apart, allowing the female to slide two long fingers into her clenching slit.

"Please, more," begged the girl as she had been taught, her voice soft and husky as Rachel probed her pussy wantonly and thoroughly.

"You smell so delicious," breathed Rachel before she licked Ilse's small shoulder, kissing and gently biting the young girl's sweet flesh as her hunger built to immense intensity.

"Oh.. Oh, yes," panted Ilse as fingers slid in and out of her cunt, her pussy and inner thighs dripping with her lust. Rachel's eyes turned golden, glowing like a cat's as she bared her sharp, dainty fangs. Growling with hunger, the vampiress clamped her lips onto the naked girl's right shoulder, her fangs biting deeply into pink, yielding flesh. Ilse moaned loudly as she orgasmed, sticky cream streaming out as the undead woman feeded on her lifeblood. The young girl shuddered as Rachel drank more and more of her essence, her small lips pouted and moist until the woman released her gently. With deathly pale skin and raspy breath, Ilse slid limply to the ground while Rachel stood over her. Smacking her full lips in satisfaction, the female vampire placed Ilse's shift over her naked body, then transformed into a thick, black mist that ascended into the dark sky, heading northwest to Altdorf.

Ilse lay sleeping upon the cold, hard ground until John rode back to retrieve her, sling her across his saddle like a bag of flour, then whip Charon into a swift gallop that carried them east towards the World's Edge Mountains.

====

The five companions crossed the gangplank that led from the trading ship to the pier below. The port of eastern Altdorf was filled with people and trade goods, everyone pushing and shoving to make room for themselves or their merchandise. Tom led the group, casually shoving away anyone who didn't get out of the way fast enough. Mark and Gwena followed the cleric, who were in turn followed by Elita and Amy. The mage girl was quiet and introspective as the party left the port area, then walked down cobbled streets until they reached the central residential area. Drawing close to the Imperial Palace, Tom found an inn within a small market square that was in sight of the Palace's impressive towers. Amy counted out a portion of the group's dwindling gold crowns, the profit from selling the horses nearly gone after the expensive river journey. Mark settled upon a comfortable bench, leering at the serving girls as he ordered a large mug of ale. Gwen went to her room, followed by Amy and the clinging Elita. Tom watched his companions separate, then left the inn for the open streets. Entering an ornate, well-tended public garden, the cleric sat upon a cool marble bench in an enclosed niche until night slowly fell over the city.

"You finally got here, I see," said Rachel as she emerged from the darkness.

"We had to spend most of our gold, but we made it here by river," replied Tom with adoring eyes.

"Well, now you're here, and the next phase can begin. Here is a map of a series of tunnels beneath the Royal Palace. The system is littered with abandoned storerooms, dungeons, and emergency escape routes. Enter the tunnels by one of the secret entrances, then use the passages to enter the Palace vaults where the Crown of Sorcery is being kept. Eliminate any guards on the vault, then use this spell scroll to break the spell locks and gain entrance. Any questions?" asked the vampiress.

"Where should I take the Crown after I get it?" asked the cleric.

"Abandon your companions, then meet me outside the eastern gates of the city," answered Rachel.

"As you wish," acknowledged Tom submissively.

"Go," urged Rachel before she walked back into the bushes and disappeared.

Tom walked slowly back to the inn, watching the citizens of the city as they went to parties or revelled within taverns and festhalls. The cleric clutched at his chest, where once his silver holy symbol had rested, but now was bare except for his white surcoat. Tom tightened his right, gloved hand into a frustrated fist, then sighed softly to himself as he reached the gates of his resting place. Entering the brightly lit common room, Tom saw Mark reclining against the far wall, a pretty blonde girl sitting on his lap and pouring ale down his throat. Mark slid his hand inside the girl's open blouse, fondling her breasts as she giggled with pleasure. The cleric frowned in disapproval, then walked towards the staircase that led up to his bedroom. Ascending to the third floor, Tom walked quietly down the hallway until he stopped in front of Gwen's door. Pressing his lips together, Tom considered what to do, finally deciding to walk up and knock upon the wooden portal.

"Who is it?" asked Gwen cautiously.

"It's Tom," replied the former priest.

"Just a minute," replied the Elf girl before she unlatched the door and let Tom inside. The white-garbed cleric entered the small, dimly-lit chamber, then watched as Gwen closed the door and latched it shut.

"What's up?" asked Gwen as she walked over to a nearby chair and sat down. Tom sat across from her, reclining casually.

"I thought that you might be lonely," replied Tom with a warm smile.

"Oh. You saw Mark screwing around with some tavern slut, huh?" remarked Gwen bitterly.

"He wasn't being very discreet about it," said Tom with a shrug.

"Discretion isn't in Mark's vocabulary," replied the Elf girl with a dark look. "He thinks he can treat me like shit and I'll just sit around and take it like a good little girl."

"You don't have to," said Tom as he leaned forward. "Dump the bastard."

"Yeah, maybe. The problem is that he is the only man from my own world that I can relate to. All of the men in this world are just like Mark, or worse," remarked Gwen in frustration. "Mark's all I've got."

"You've got me, Gwen" said Tom warmly as he placed his left hand over the Elf girl's.

"Tom, I'm shocked," replied Gwen with wide, blue eyes. "I never knew you felt that way about me."

"Maybe I can finally share my feelings with you now," said the cleric while he rose to his feet, then pulled Gwen up gently and hugged her close to his body. "Maybe I can love you like you need to be loved."

"Tom," whispered Gwen softly before her friend leaned down and kissed her softly upon her full, red lips. The Elf girl closed her eyes as she returned the cleric's kiss, her lips growing more passionate until the couple's mouths rubbed wantonly against each other. Tom slid his tongue into Gwen's compliant mouth, caressing her inner mouth and throat until the Elf girl moaned in arousal. The cleric hugged Gwen close, his hands sliding over her curvacious, supple body until he reached her shapely, firm ass. He fondled and squeezed Gwen's ass cheeks until she grew limp and pliant in his strong, enfolding arms. Tom backed away slightly from the panting Elf girl, a thin trail of saliva dripping free from both lovers' mouths. The cleric pulled the willing young woman to the soft, feather bed, then guided her down until she sat upon it.

Tom began pulling off Gwen's leather breeches as the Elf girl removed her armored, leather vest. Gwen reached back to unfasten her white bra while the brown-haired man slid off her white panties, then opened her legs apart until her blonde mound of pubic hair was visible.

"You're so beautiful," smiled Tom before he leaned forward to kiss Gwen deeply, then moved down to lick her creamy shoulders and large, full breasts. The Elf girl reclined against the headboard of the bed, running her fingers through Tom's hair as he sucked and licked her soft, delicious tits. Gwen's pink nipples grew hard as Tom slid his tongue around their sensitive flesh, then bit the little knobs until they stood erect. The cleric sucked loudly on Gwen's right breast while his right hand moved down to her exposed pussy. Tom slowly rubbed the Elf girl's inner thighs, making her quiver in excitement as he advanced to her clenching fuckslit. He tickled the girl's tuft of blonde cunthair, then began rubbing her labia as she panted for breath. Saliva dripped from both of Gwen's tits as Tom suckled upon them, devouring her warm flesh with relish. The Elf girl moaned, her skin flushed and hot as the man fondled her pussy, his strong fingers exciting her clit until it glistened with moisture.

"Fuck me, fuck me, Tom" moaned Gwen before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him longingly. Tom slid his lips over Gwen's as one hand fondled one of her breasts and another slid inside her cunt to explore her womanhood. Gwen's naked body glimmered with sweat as Tom quickly removed his clothes, then climbed onto the bed inbetween the Elf girl's lush thighs.

"Make love to me," begged the Elf girl as she squeezed her own heaving breasts, then leaned down to lick one of her nipples with her pink tongue. Tom smiled as he watched the beautiful, naked woman, then he grabbed her hips firmly before thrusting out his crotch. Tom's large, bulging cock slid easily into Gwen's ravenous, dripping pussy. The girl's cunt fastened tightly on Tom's rod, milking it relentlessly as he pumped his meat in and out of her slit.

"Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah! That feels so good!" groaned Gwen as she held on to the poles of the headboard, throwing back her head and thrashing her long, blonde hair as she pumped her crotch against Tom's engorged cock. The panting cleric continued thrusting inside Gwen's belly, his hands reaching forward to squeeze and caress the Elf girl's heaving breasts. Both lovers sweated and grunted like animals as they fucked each other, their naked bodies entwined like fighting snakes.

"Fuck me from behind," demanded Gwen as she pulled away from the gasping cleric, then rolled onto her hands and knees. Tom gazed appreciatively at Gwen's naked, round ass, then slapped her lightly on an ass cheek before he crawled forward and rubbed his wet cock between her slim thighs.

"Please, don't tease me," moaned the blonde girl before she grasped the headboard with both hands, then wiggled her ass invitingly at Tom. Unable to hold back, Tom wrapped his arms around Gwen's waist, then pushed his cock deeply into her womb. Gwen shouted with pleasure as the man impaled her with his meat, then rhythmically began pumping in and out of her fuckhole.

"Sigmar's bones, your pussy's tight!" groaned Tom as he thrust against Gwen's tight ass. He reached forward to cup the Elf girl's dangling tits, pinching her delicate nipples as she moaned and panted in sexual ecstasy. Gwen held tightly to the headboard, pushing her ass out onto her lover's fuckpole, burying it deeply inside her warm, encompassing flesh.

"Uhh...uhh..., oh, god!" panted Gwen as she bit her lower lip, her long, blonde hair plastered with sweat as her pussy burned like a supernova and gushed cream by the gallon. Warm honey slid down the Elf girl's thighs and stained the sheets as she orgasmed, her naked body shuddering again and again until Tom grunted and shot a load of cum deep inside her belly.

Tom staggered away from Gwen, falling onto his back upon the bed and panting loudly for air. The Elf girl pushed away a strand of sweat-slick hair, then crawled forward until she leaned over the cleric's wet cock. Purring softly, Gwen lowered her mouth, then began licking Tom's cock, enjoying the taste of his cum and her own juices. Tom closed his eyes in bliss, smiling beatifically as the naked girl cupped his rod in her warm mouth, then slid her red lips down the length of his flacid meat. After she cleaned her lover's cock, Gwen slid her naked body over Tom's, then wrapped her arms around his neck until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

"Hey, Gwen! How about a threesome tonight?" exclaimed Mark enthusiastically as he unlocked the door and staggered inside. He held an open wine bottle in one hand, and the pretty, blonde serving wench in another. Freezing to a halt, the thief gazed in wide-eyed surprise at the naked Elf girl and the cleric wrapped in each other's arms, sweaty and stinking of sex.

"Well, fuck me!" swore Mark in disbelief.

====

"What the fuck's going on?!" shouted Mark as he shoved the bar wench from his left arm, then slammed the bedroom door behind him.

"Exactly what it looks like," replied Tom calmly while he disentangled himself from Gwen's naked body, then smoothly put on his white robe.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" swore Mark as he balled his right hand into a fist and swung angrily at the smirking cleric. Tom caught the hand, then twisted the thief's arm painfully behind his back. Mark struggled to break Tom's hold, but the former priest's strength was greater.

"You need to calm down, Mark. Gwen gave herself to me of her own free will. Respect her decision and leave us alone. If you don't, it could get unpleasant," warned Tom before he inflicted a brief stab of agony in Mark's trapped arm.

"Okay. Okay, dammit!" snarled Mark in defeat. Tom shoved the thief forward, then watched coldly as Mark stumbled to the door and swung it open.

"I hope you two are very happy," muttered Mark sarcastically before he stalked out and slammed the door after him.

"Did you have to hurt him?" asked Gwen with a frown.

"Men like that only understand violence. It's unfortunate, but it's the truth," soothed Tom as he turned to face the Elf girl, then undressed before sliding back into bed with his lover.

Mark sat limply in a chair, a mug of ale untouched in his hand as Amy entered the common room from the staircase and walked across the floor to the depressed thief. The red-haired mage girl sat down across from Mark, then quietly ordered some wine from a nearby serving girl.

"What's up?" asked Amy curiously.

"Nothing right now," retorted Mark before he took a long drink from his mug.

"Where are Tom and Gwen? I stopped by their rooms, but no one was in," said the young woman.

"Tom's shacking up with that Elf slut. They left right after dinner with their gear, who knows where the fuckheads went," muttered the rogue tonelessly.

"Huh," sighed Amy before she took her cup of wine and drained it.

Tom and Gwen made their way down a dark, dank tunnel beneath the Imperial Palace. The brown-haired priest held his warhammer firmly within his right hand, the weapon glowly brightly from a cast Light spell. Gwen was dressed in her form-fitting leather armor, a sword gleaming in her own gloved hand.

"How'd you find out about this tunnel?" asked Gwen.

"A friend told me about it," replied Tom tersely.

"What are we looking for?"

"An underground vault. My source told me that there's a royal treasury in this section with light security. It's so old that almost everyone has forgotten about it," explained the cleric softly.

"Cool," murmured Gwen with the glint of avarice in her blue eyes.

The two adventurers walked quietly down the rock-hewn passage, their eyes alert and weapons ready until they finally reached an intersection. To the right, a dim light could be seen. Tom dispelled his Light spell, then grasped his hammer tightly as he advanced forward. Gwen followed the cleric, her sword ready as they both approached a large, stone door guarded by two men-at-arms. Tom lunged forward, swinging his warhammer in a tight arc, smashing a guard's helmeted head with a mighty blow. The man grunted before he died, blood pouring from under his headgear as he fell limply to the floor. Gwen struck at the second guard, slicing his right arm, then impaling his thigh with her sharp blade. The soldier gasped in agony, but drew his own sword to parry another attack. The two sword wielders slashed and swung, filling the hallway with ringing steel. Tom struck the guard a glancing blow to the shoulder, unbalancing the man enough for Gwen to run her blade up his stomach. The soldier moaned as blood and intestines spewed from his wound, then he fell weakly to his knees before flopping wetly to the cold, stone floor.

Tom dragged the first dead guard away from the door, followed by Gwen who dragged hers in the opposite direction. With the doorway clear, Tom stood in front of the stone slab, rumaging in his beltpouch for a certain scroll. Unravelling the crisp parchment, the cleric chanted the words of magick, dispelling any wards or lock spells placed upon the door. With a gesture, the stone hatch slid aside, revealing a large, circular room filled with chests and silver urns. Gwen gasped in awe, a smile of greed and almost sensual pleasure brightening her lovely face before she rushed into the room. Tom watched her open chests and pull out handfuls of gems from several of the urns. He carefully examined the contents of all of the chests until he found a crown lying upon a pile of glittering gold. The crown was made of iron, cold and covered with sharp edges that yearned to bite into soft flesh. A dark, hungry power dwelled within the Crown, begging Tom to place it upon his brow. Smiling tolerantly, Tom took the Crown with both hands, then placed it in a black, velvet pouch that Rachel had given to him earlier.

"Let's go," ordered the cleric as he swung around and marched out of the treasure room.

"Okay," agreed Gwen as she placed one more handful of jewels into a bulging sack.

After the slim Elf girl left the room, Tom re-sealed the doorway, then, in a fit of dark humor, he inscribed the rune of Nagash upon the hard, stone surface.

The Emperor Karl Franz rode a mighty black warhorse, allowing his griffon mount, Deathclaw, a chance to rest from flying. Behind the ruler of the Empire, companies of mounted knights followed their liege, who were in turn followed by spearmen, archers, and artillerymen. The sky was grey and cloudy, the air cold and dry as Franz watched a small group of riders gallop towards him. Met by a squad of knights, the riders were escorted into the Emperor's presence, then they quickly dismounted and knelt before their lord.

"Your Majesty," began one of the kneeling riders, "we've scouted ahead of the main army along the River Urskoy. We ran into the edge of the Chaos armies' pickets, mostly minotaurs and a few Chaos Knights. The main invading army seems to be marching directly for Kislev, the capital."

"Thank you, scout," nodded Franz gratefully. "Get something to eat, then return to your duties."

"Thank you, Majesty!" replied the rider with a smile, then he led his comrades back to their steeds and back towards the supply caravans.

"They're not wasting any time, sir," remarked Ludwig Schwarzhelm, the Emperor's Champion.

"Yes, their general must be in haste," replied Franz thoughtfully. "I can use that against him."

"Your orders?" inquired the knight lord.

"We continue to advance," answered the Emperor firmly.

The large army marched along the quiet River Urskoy, scouts riding ahead to watch for ambushes or enemy pickets. As the sun slid down the horizon, the Imperial army found the leading edge of the Chaos invasion force. Minotaurs and other Beastmen roared in bloodlust, running swiftly across the flat terrain until they smashed into the Imperial frontline. Knights lashed out with swords, axes, and lances, ripping the advancing Beastmen to bloody pulps with their shining steel. The Chaos monsters were unfazed, ignoring heavy losses to reach the human warriors and tear them from their barded mounts.

"Archers! Move to the left flank and provide cover fire!" ordered the Emperor as he sat upon his horse behind the defending knights. "Cannons! Deploy and set targets!"

Artillerymen quickly dismounted, then unlimbered their mighty iron cannons and prepared to load them. From the churning sky, a bright comet appeared, growing larger as it descended until it formed into a ravenous Fireball. The men loading the cannons barely had time to look up before the orb of flaming death burst among them, igniting the cannons' gunpower, then exploding to disintegrate flesh and melt iron barrels. The Emperor frowned as he watched his artillery smolder, then he turned to watch his archers send a cloud of feathered shafts into the advancing Beastmen. Scores of minotuars and other foul creatures were impaled by murderous projectiles, falling to the ground to writhe and bleed to death. Unfortunately, as Chaos spawn died, more advanced to take their place, hacking and clawing at the armored knights until the Men were forced to fall back around their leader. Deathclaw screamed in agony as Lightning Bolts rained down upon it, boiling its flesh and blood until it died. A great stream of orange fire fell from the sky, incinerating dozens of spearmen as they stood in orderly ranks. The Chaos Dragon, Baudros, flew in a lazy circle over the struggling armies, gliding upon cool winds until it dove down and opened its fanged maw to deal more burning flames upon the frightened Men below.

Snarling in fury, the Emperor grasped the Hammer of Sigmar tightly, then swung it upwards towards the diving Dragon. The glowing weapon smashed into Baudros' forehead, destroying bone and burying itself deeply in the wyrm's evil brain. Screeching in agony, the dying Chaos Dragon fell limply to the earth, trembling the ground with its great weight as well as killing many soldiers and Beastmen.

Egrimm Van Horstmann, leader of the Chaos army, fluttered softly to the ground, borne by his dark magick as he drew an obsidian Chaos Blade. The Hammer of Sigmar leapt from the dead brain of Baudros, flying unerringly to its master. Karl Franz strode proudly forward to meet the wicked Chaos Sorcerer as their armies slaughtered each other around them. Egrimm smiled mockingly at the dirt-stained Emperor, then readied his blade to duel. Karl saluted formally, then charged with a great shout, hammer poised to strike. The glowing Hammer smashed against the black Chaos Blade, showering both men with bright, blue sparks as they attacked and lunged at each other. Egrimm sliced open Karl's left thigh, then slashed across the Emperor's stomach, leaving a red line across the struggling ruler's flesh. Karl grimaced in pain and annoyance, then slammed his Hammer forward, smashing the dark mage's right arm. Egrimm howled in agony, then shoved his dark blade forward with his weaker left hand. The purple-glowing sword slid easily into the Emperor's belly, punching out of Karl's back as violet energy strands slid around his shaking body.

"Your Empire is mine!" shouted Egrimm triumphantly before he shoved the Chaos Blade deeper into Karl's pale flesh.

"Sigmar aid me!" screamed Karl before he used the last of his strength to raise the Hammer of Sigmar and bring it down on Egrimm's exposed head. The mage looked up in wide-eyed horror as the heavy mallet smashed his skull into a bloody pulp. Limp hands released the burning Chaos Blade, but the foul weapon had already done its work.

The Chaos spawn and Beastmen retreated from the rage-filled knights, running desperately north to the Troll Country and safety. Mounted warriors galloped after the retreating monsters, killing dozens of stragglers to quench the sorrow-filled fury in their hearts. Ludwig rushed to the Emperor's side, cradling the dying man's head upon his armored lap.

"Sir, I'm sorry," moaned the Emperor's Champion as hot tears dripped down his blackened cheeks.

"It's alright, Ludwig," whispered Karl Franz as his eyes grew vacant and cold. "Chaos is pushed back, and my people are safe. Remember to protect my people..." The Emperor's voice faded away, his head lolling to the side as Death drew down to claim him. Ludwig hugged the dead body to his armored breast, great sobs filling the silence as wounded knights and spearmen stood around their lord and mourned him.

====

Amy tossed fitfully in her bed, the sheets disheveled around her slim, naked body as she moaned softly in her sleep. The mage girl's mind floated in Astral Space, a faint, transparent shadow of her physical form. Swirling red and orange clouds surrounded the nude girl, as thunder and a reverberating roar assaulted Amy's sensitive ears. White lightning flashed, drawing close, then sliding away teasingly. Amy spun around, gazing with fear-filled eyes for the shape and taunting voice of John the Liche.

*John isn't here,* said a firm, yet insidious voice in Amy's mind.

"Who are you?" asked the red-haired girl faintly.

*I am called the Crown of Sorcery. I was created by the Supreme Lord of the Undead, Nagash, and infused with a portion of his dark power. Your friend, Tom, freed me from my prison, but now I seek a worthy wearer to become my ally.*

"Ally? You mean slave, someone you can control and manipulate," replied Amy with a scowl.

*We all manipulate each other, but this symbiosis will be to your benefit as well as mine. You need not ever fear John or those like him again,* promised the Crown reassuringly.

"Where's your physical form now?" asked Amy curiously.

*In Tom's room, within a small velvet bag among his belongings. Come get me before he takes me to his master tomorrow,* urged the Crown.

"Master? Who is Tom's master?" inquired the young woman.

*Later. All will be revealed in good time,* replied the Crown of Sorcery.

Amy awoke with a start, sweat making her long, red hair sticky and chaotic. Brushing stray lockes away with her hand, the mage girl carefully left the bed where Elita still slept peacefully, then she quickly dressed and left the dark bedroom. Walking quietly down the dark hallway, Amy reached the room shared by Tom and the Elf, Gwen. Muttering a Knock spell, the sorceress unlocked the portal, then slowly slid it open and sneaked inside. Tom and Gwen slept entwined in each others' arms, oblivious as Amy slid over to the cleric's belongings and began rummaging inside them. With a smile of triumph, the mage girl found the Crown inside its black bag, then slowly carried it outside into the hall. Closing the door behind her, Amy swiftly ran across the hallway and down the stairs, then stopped within the common room to catch her breath.

*Take me out,* urged the Crown.

Amy carefully untied the soft, velvet bag, then pulled out the cold, iron-wrought Crown. The artifact glowed with a rich, purple light, dazzling Amy's green eyes with magickal beauty.

*Put me on,* commanded the Crown of Sorcery.

Tentatively, Amy raised the sharp-edged Crown, then slid it over her hair and next to her pale brow. The dull iron bit painfully into Amy's skin, digging into her scalp until it sat securely on her head. Cold numbness exploded in the mage girl's brain, pouring down her arms and legs until she lost all feeling of her environment.

*Yesss,* crooned the Crown as its corrupt power filled Amy's body, seizing her flesh and taking possession of it. Smiling coldly with the young woman's full lips, the Crown summoned more of its magick, Teleporting its new host far to the east, to plan.

The next day, Tom and Gwen ate an early breakfast, then gathered their gear and left the inn. With the Elf girl's newfound wealth, the couple purchased new horses, a platemail suit for Tom, and an Elven Chainmail suit for Gwen. The Elf girl bought a Rune Blade as well as several Healing potions and a Longbow. Weighted down with supplies and new equipment, the companions rode out of Altdorf's eastern gate, galloping down a heavily used trade road until they left the city far behind them. The sky was overcast and dark, illuminated briefly by flashes of blue lightning travelling from the Worlds Edge Mountains. The companions rode quietly through the morning, until Tom spied a lone hill to the south of the road.

"Wait here, Gwen. I need to take a piss over there," said the cleric as he pointed in the hill's direction.

"Okay. Don't drown," replied the Elf girl with a grin.

Tom frowned in mock anger, then flicked his horse into motion. The black and white charger ran smoothly towards the hill, then went around it until the Elf girl was out of sight. Tom dismounted, then waited patiently until Rachel appeared in a swirl of grey mist. Stalking forward angrily, the vampire woman grasped Tom by the throat, raising him several feet into the air.

"What the fuck is that Elf bitch doing here?" snarled Rachel in fury.

"I needed her to get the Crown. She's useful to me," spat out Tom as he tried vainly to pry Rachel's claws from his neck.

"You failed to bring the Crown of Sorcery. I don't sense it," said the vampiress as she gazed coldly at her prey.

"Amy disappeared with it. Even Elita doesn't know where the bitch went," replied the cleric with a gurgle.

"Unfortunate," observed Rachel as she tightened her grip for a moment, then released the choking priest with a flick of her wrist. Tom hit the ground and fell to his knees, rubbing his bruised throat as he gasped to collect more air.

"Things have changed with the death of Emperor Karl Franz. The Elector Counts are dismantling the Imperial Army, recalling their troops until a new Emperor can be elected. With the Army gone, the Empire is vulnerable to attack, a fact which Nagash plans to exploit," said Rachel coldly.

"Another invasion? It didn't work last time," reminded Tom as he staggered weakly to his feet.

"John only had a few companies, Nagash plans to use an entire Legion for this offensive," retorted the vampiress. "The attack is only a diversion, however."

"What? Then why bother?" asked the cleric in astonishment.

"Nagash wants to place one of his agents on the throne. Someone he can control and direct to manipulate the Men for him," said Rachel with a coy smile.

"Who?" asked Tom suspiciously.

"You. As a former cleric of Sigmar, you're in the unique position to rally the people and coordinate the defense of the Empire. With a small force of loyal knights, you'll conveniently win some important and highly visible victories against the invading Undead. The people will call for you to be named Emperor, and the Elector Counts will have no choice but to support you if they want their lands to remain intact, just like when Magnus the Pious fought the forces of Chaos centuries ago."

"A good plan, I'm impressed," nodded Tom agreeably.

"I'm so glad that you approve," replied Rachel sarcastically. "Now go take your little fucktoy and return to Altdorf. A squad of knights sworn to our Dark Lord will arrive within a few days after the invasion has begun. They'll have further instructions for you then."

"As you say," answered Tom gravely.

"May Nagash bless you," offered the beautiful brunette before she faded away into a cloud of mist and flew away.

Tom and Gwen rode back to Altdorf, pushing through crowds of nobles, knights, and sycophants who were bent on returning to their homelands now that the Emperor was dead and power was now back in the hands of the Elector Counts. Riding down nearly deserted streets, the couple found a luxurious inn with almost no guests inside. After paying a third less for the best room of the establishment, Tom and Gwen took a long, hot bath together, then retired to their suite of rooms. The pale cleric announced a desire to sleep alone, then kissed Gwen softly on the lips before closing his bedroom door behind him. Bored and lonely, the Elf girl reclined on a pile of cushions, drinking cool wine and staring blankly at a raging fire within a marble fireplace.

Rachel Teleported into the living area, her black dress making her nearly invisible within the shadows near the room's far corner. Gwen's eyes were nearly closed, her mind dull with wine and fatigue as the vampiress walked up behind her, then touched her blonde hair with a delicate finger as she cast a Sleep spell with barely a whisper. Gwen's head nodded onto her chest, allowing Rachel to pick her up and carry her effortlessly into the vacant bedroom. Closing and locking the door, Rachel slid Gwen onto the bed, then gazed contemptously at the sleeping female.

"That bastard picked this piece of fluff over me?" raged the vampiress incredulously. "We'll see about that!"

Rachel swiftly cast a Silence Sphere around the bedroom so that no one would be able to hear the Elf girl's screams and moans. Smiling in satisfaction, the vampiress retrieved several leather straps from the Bag of Holding fastened upon her belt, then attached the strips to the tops of the poles at the foot of the large bed. Grabbing the unconscious young woman by the wrists, Rachel slid the girl's limp hands into the leather restraints, then sinched them tight against her pale skin. The vampire woman ripped off Gwen's thin, white shift, exposing the girl's lithe, luscious body. Licking her red lips in anticipation, Rachel ran her long-nailed hands across Gwen's warm, white flesh, caressing her upraised arms, then sliding down over her full, round breasts, flat stomach, and ending between the Elf girl's slim, shapely thighs. Gwen moaned softly in her bonds, her pussy growing unconsciously wet as Rachel rubbed her labia wantonly.

"You are a delicious little morsel," purred the vampiress before she licked Gwen's neck, sliding down a graceful shoulder, then down a smooth, creamy back. The blonde girl slowly awoke, then gasped in terror as she released she was naked and tied to the bed.

"What's going on?" asked Gwen as she struggled to see who was caressing her tight ass.

"Hi. I'm Rachel. I'm a friend of Tom's," replied the vampire woman before she slapped Gwen painfully on the butt.

"Oww! Hey! Untie me from here!" shouted the Elf girl as she struggled against the leather bonds holding her arms over her head.

"Oh, not just yet, my lovely slut. I'm going to have some fun first," said Rachel as she withdrew a long whip from her Bag, then flicked it loudly near Gwen's right arm.

"No! Please, don't!" begged Gwen as bright tears formed around her large, blue eyes.

"Say please," teased Rachel before she lashed out with the whip, leaving an angry red welt on the Elf girl's naked back.

"Please! Oh, please!" moaned Gwen pitifully as the raven-haired woman whipped her exposed flesh again and again. Hard leather cracked against soft flesh, Gwen groaned with pain as more and more bruises appeared on her creamy skin. Rachel snarled with lust, her fangs bared as she raised her right hand and whipped her arousing prisoner over and over. Gwen grew limp in her bonds, her arms trapped helplessly over her head as her tits bobbed up and down with each lash. Sweat glistened on Gwen's white skin, irritating her welts as the leather snake caressed her flesh with each stroke. Rachel slid her pink tongue across her fangs as she caressed Gwen's ass with the whip, creating lovely red stripes across the Elf girl's shapely mounds. Gwen moaned, holding her thighs close together as uncontrollable honey trickled from her cunt. She licked warm sweat from her lips, her eyes closed as she felt the leather probe smack her skin with painful warmth. Gwen shuddered helplessly as she orgasmed, a thick stream of fluid sliding down her legs to pool on the carpet.

"You really got off on that, didn't you?" asked Rachel with a smug grin. "You really are a cheap whore. No wonder Tom's attracted to you."

Gwen didn't reply, instead she concentrated on breathing, gasping loudly to collect as much clean air as she could. The Elf girl's tits heaved, her pink nipples hard with arousal as she hung erotically in her leather bonds. Rachel drew close to her naked prisoner, inhaling the scent of Gwen's sweat and her heady, natural musk. The vampiress kissed the Elf girl on the neck, her right hand trailing sharp nails across the girl's many welts and bruises. Gwen gasped softly, her face blushing as she grew excited at the vampire's intimate touch. Rachel slid her hand under the Elf girl's right breast, cupping the firm orb of flesh, then caressing it wantonly. Gwen moaned with pleasure, closing her eyes and leaning against Rachel's hard, shapely body.

"You want me, don't you?" whispered Rachel softly into Gwen's pointed ear.

"Yes," replied the Elf girl as her naked body burned with lust.

"Excellent," said the vampiress as she pulled aside Gwen's long, blonde hair, then rammed her fangs into the side of the moaning girl's neck. Gwen groaned loudly, her legs growing weak as Rachel fed on her thick, rich blood. Sucking noisily, the raven-haired woman hugged Gwen close with her left hand while her right slid between the naked girl's thighs and probed her pussy energetically.

====

Cripple Peak, Nagashizzar,

Mountain fortress and home of the Supreme Lord of the Undead, Nagash.

The tall, sharp-edged peak thrust arrogantly into the dark sky, illuminated by bright, eye-searing lightning that played across the boiling clouds chaotically. Cripple Peak sat within the southern range of the Worlds Edge Mountains, a lone tower of evil that sheltered thousands of Undead soldiers and the unfortunate slaves that served them. At this moment, the dread Undead Lord stood within one of his many libraries, examining one of the Nine Books of Nagash. The unholy spellbook contained ancient spells of necromancy and black magick, many written by the Liche King himself. As Nagash studied the writing, delicate footsteps echoed from a nearby spiral staircase. The armored Liche raised his head, glowing red eyes reduced to slits as he scanned the area with his powerful mind. He detected a shielded presence approaching slowly, confident and blatant in its power. Something about the stranger's magick seemed familiar, but that did not stop Nagash from unsheathing Mortis, a great sword that only he could wield.

Nagash turned to face the open doorway that led to the stairs, candles sputtering weakly as the footsteps drew closer. Purple light bled from the edge of Mortis as Nagash tightened his gauntleted grip on the blade's pommel. Finally, a slim, female shape emerged from the stairwell's darkness, a black-cloaked body wearing the glimmering Crown of Sorcery.

"My Crown!" exclaimed Nagash in amazement as he rushed towards the standing figure.

Before the Liche King could grab the magickal Crown, a globe of blue energy surrounded the stranger, thrusting the Undead Lord away. Nagash snarled in pain, cradling a smoking right hand as he glared at the impertinent intruder.

"Who are you? How dare you enter my home uninvited and bearing my Crown of Sorcery! You shall die painfully for these crimes!" declared Nagash as he drew Mortis once more and brandished it before him.

"I am called Amy, and I bear the Crown now. The artifact has chosen me as its host, it merely wanted to visit its maker one more time," replied Amy as she drew back the dark hood that concealed her beautiful, cold features.

"You chose a woman to wear you? You are rebellious and foolish," spat Nagash as he collected a globe of deadly magick around his ebony sword.

"I have grown beyond you, Nagash. My centuries of slumber below the Imperial Palace have allowed me to evolve, to develop a mind of my own. I am free to do as I wish, I merely wanted to tell you to forestall any further intrusions from you. Do not interfere with me again," warned Amy with glittering, green eyes as the shield around her illuminated the library with azure radiance.

"I shall bear you again, Crown," swore Nagash as he released a burst of death magick, pouring a column of purple fire against the glowing shield around Amy. The red-haired girl laughed scornfully, then deflected the flame burst with a small, right hand. The purple stream shot into the ceiling, melting the solid rock into dripping liquid.

"Do not interfere," repeated Amy as she swirled her black cloak around her body, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

"Damn you," whispered Nagash as he allowed his sword's flame to wither and die.

The Elector Counts of the Empire gathered within the city of Talabheim. Renting a plush meeting room in one of the finer inns of the city, the Counts sat around a rectangle-shaped table, sipping mugs of cool ale as they decided the fate of their nation.

"Nagash's legions have broken through Black Fire Pass again. Almost all of my realm has been conquered by the Undead," said the Count of Averland nervously.

"That's right. Units of skeleton warriors and zombies have already begun advancing into Wissenland and Stirland. Vampire Lords have marched from Sylvania with their peasant infantry and destroyed several towns," informed the Count of Stirland before he drank heavily from his mug.

"Clearly we must elect a new Emperor. The longer the Empire lacks strong leadership, the more vulnerable to attack we are from all our enemies," declared the Count of Reikland.

"Yes, but who do we choose?" asked Averland's ruler.

"There are rumors that a young cleric of Sigmar has gathered a small force of knights and is repelling the Undead invaders. I believe that his name is Tom," said the calm lord of Talabecland.

"Perhaps we should summon him to Altdorf," suggested the Averland Count as sweat glistened on his creased forehead.

"Recent reports say that Lord Thomas is protecting the city of Nuln. An entire Legion of Undead has laid siege to the city, but the cleric is holding them at bay," said the Count of Talabecland.

"If Thomas can defeat the Undead at Nuln, I believe that would show his fitness to be Emperor," replied the lord of Reikland.

"So let it be," agreed all of the Elector Counts together.

Cannons roared along the battlements of Nuln. Massive iron guns faced the milling armies of Undead, firing bursts of grapeshot into the massed ranks of zombies and ghouls. Tom stood above the city's main gates, watching as skeletons tightened and released huge catapults, lobbing flaming skulls against and over the solid, stone walls protecting the eastern flank of Nuln.

A lone knight dressed in black platemail marched directly to the observing cleric, then drew up at attention, saluting crisply.

"Report," said Tom vaguely as he continued to watch scores of Undead blow apart from massed artillery fire.

"The city's defenses are holding, my lord," said Lord Mordred. "The knights are spread out along the walls, directing cannon fire and keeping the soldiers from being hurt."

"Make sure Nuln's garrison takes some casualties, we don't want this to look suspicious or planned," said Tom softly.

"Yes, sir. I'll see to it," acknowledged Mordred with a sharp bow before he rushed to re-position the soldiers manning the wall.

Sighing quietly to himself, Tom left the battlements, climbing down a short staircase that led to one of the city's open courtyards. The white-garbed cleric walked calmly towards a nearby inn, smiling re-assuringly at the fearful citizens of Nuln until he opened the inn's door and strode inside.

"Would my lord care for some ale or wine?" inquired the male innkeeper eagerly.

"Yes, some wine would be nice," replied Tom with a polite smile.

The middle-aged man quickly set two cups and a flagon of red wine upon a clean tray, which Tom picked up before he made his way to an ascending staircase.

"Do you desire anything else, Lord Thomas?" asked the aproned innkeeper.

"No, thank you," responded Tom before he disappeared up the stairs. Climbing smoothly, the priest ascended to the third floor, to a set of private rooms reserved for his pleasure and relaxation. The lord of Nuln was quite generous and eager to please after Tom met him privately and performed a little Mind Control on the weak-willed ruler. Reaching his door, Tom opened the portal, then entered the large, entry chamber. A wide window gave a impressive view of the city, with its tall towers, graceful government buildings, and the ornate bridge that spanned the River Reik. The room had a fireplace, a large, wooden beverage table, and a circle of comfortable, cushioned chairs. Tom set the wine tray upon the burnished table, then poured himself a cup before approaching Gwen, who sat in a chair near the window and smoked a thin cigarette with her sensuous, red lips. The Elf girl stared blankly at the city's profile, dressed in a black bathrobe that snuggled close to her slim neck.

"How goes the siege?" asked Gwen faintly.

"Well. The defenders are inflicting lots of casualties, but taking few losses themselves. All of Nuln's nobles are proclaiming me as a military genius," smirked the cleric as he raised his cup to his dry lips.

"Then your plan's working," replied the Elf girl emotionlessly while she turned to eye the flagon, then rose to her feet to approach the table and take a cup of wine for herself. Tom watched Gwen suspiciously, then drew close to pull the black robe from her white neck.

"I knew it," muttered Tom as he saw two small puncture marks on Gwen's skin that could only be fang imprints. "Rachel got to you."

"It wasn't bad. She just fed on me a little," replied the Elf girl as she turned to gaze up into Tom's cold eyes.

"We'll see," said Tom before he grasped Gwen's head with both of his hands, sliding a mental probe into her brain to search for hypnotic controls or hidden instructions. "She didn't leave any unpleasant surprises."

"She just wanted to make sure I didn't interfere with her plans," informed the Elf girl in a whisper as she raised the wooden cup to her lips and drank greedily.

"Ah," replied Tom while he guided the robed Elf to a sofa, then watched as she drained her cup to the dregs. Taking the empty vessel from Gwen's limp hands, Tom replaced it on the tray, then placed his right hand on the Elf girl's right thigh. Gwen smiled as the cleric leaned forward, kissing her warmly on her wine-moistened lips. She moaned softly as Tom's kissing grew harder, more passionate, his hand sliding up her inner thigh, then against her warm crotch.

"You're so beautiful," whispered Tom as he licked Gwen's lips, then slid down her small chin and across her pale neck. The Elf girl closed her eyes and spread her slim legs apart as Tom rubbed her wet pussy with his hand, teasing her labia and clit until they trembled with arousal. Gwen placed her arms across the top of the sofa while Tom opened her robe, exposing her round, firm breasts to the cool air. The cleric leaned down, biting the Elf girl's pink nipples, then encircling the sensitive skin with his wet tongue. Gwen moaned loudly, thrusting out her crotch wantonly as her lover inserted a thick finger into her clenching slit. The Elf girl gasped as her pussy clasped around Tom's probing finger, sucking the questing digit desperately as she bit her red, lower lip with her small, white teeth.

Tom sucked hungrily on Gwen's heaving, sweet-tasting tits, filling his mouth with her delicious, creamy flesh. Gwen groaned as the man devoured her breasts, making them slick with saliva as he ran his glistening tongue around and inbetween her ripe melons. Pink nipples grew swollen with lust as she grasped Tom's head with both hands and rubbed his face in her bosom. The priest slid another finger into the Elf girl's dripping pussy, pushing in and out of her wet, pink cunt as she moaned for more.

"Yess! Oh, yes!" panted Gwen as she pressed her crotch against Tom's hand, her white skin slick with glimmering sweat. Tom kissed her roughly on the mouth, sliding his tongue around her mouth and down her throat as she moaned lustfully. Gwen broke away from Tom, gasping for breath as she moved to her hands and knees upon the sofa. The cleric gazed with longing at the Elf girl's perfect, shapely ass, then he leaned forward and nuzzled his face in her hot cunt. Gwen groaned loudly, grasping the arm of the sofa as she ground her ass against Tom's face.

Tom buried his mouth in Gwen's fluid-slick pussy, drinking her warm honey as he caressed her vagina with his probing tongue. The Elf girl's tits hung down, jiggling erotically as she pumped her crotch into her lover. She took her right breast, squeezing it tightly, then leaning down to lick her pert nipple with a warm tongue. Waves of sexual pleasure poured into the Elf girl's brain, making her thrust her head up and cry in ecstasy as Tom buried his lips in her cunt, licking her tender pussy flesh until she orgasmed with a helpless shudder. A torrent of warm, sticky fluid gushed from Gwen's fuckhole, filling Tom's mouth until it spilled around his lips and across his face. Tom lapped up the Elf girl's cream, drinking her honey until her pussy was dry and smooth.

The priest inhaled Gwen's rich, female musk, then kissed her cunt lovingly before he raised the Elf girl to rest on her knees, turning her head to kiss her lingeringly. Tom hugged Gwen's naked body to his, caressing her bare right breast as he sucked wantonly on her full, red lips. The Elf girl lay submissively in her lover's arms, giving no resistance as the man covered her mouth with his own and fondled her tits with his strong, firm hands.

====

Elita sat disconsolately upon a bench, a mug of wine untouched before her as she held her head up with both hands. The apprentice mage wore a loose, red blouse today, with snug brown leggings and ankleboots. The girl's long, purple hair was tied in a lengthy ponytail that hung down her back. The door to the tavern burst open, admitting a fuming young man named Mark who was dressed in his traditional rogue's garb.

"I've finished searching this entire city! There's no sign of Gwen, Tom, or Amy! They're gone!" exclaimed the thief as he sat down and grabbed Elita's full mug. Draining the vessel dry, Mark slammed the mug down hard on the table, then glared at the serving wench who picked up the mug and took it to be refilled.

"They must have left Altdorf for some reason," muttered Elita as she regarded the rogue.

"Yeah, they thought we were useless, so they dumped us the first chance they got!" spat out Mark before he snatched the proferred mug, then took a healthy swig.

"Amy just wouldn't leave me without a word," said Elita with a frown.

"Maybe she got tired of your sweet, little ass," replied Mark with a lecherous grin.

"Focus on the problem at hand," warned the young woman darkly.

"Yeah, right," grunted the thief as his eyes glazed in detachment.

"My magick might be able to find Amy," offered Elita hopefully.

"Shoot," retorted Mark with a negligent wave of his hand.

Elita closed her eyes, murmuring the words of a Locate spell with distinct inflections. Mark watched casually as the young woman swayed slightly, her mind expanding to search the entire Old World for her teacher and lover.

"She's east, somewhere in the Worlds Edge Mountains," whispered the mage girl.

"Try to find something distinctive," advised Mark.

"She's east of Black Water lake, a day's travel at most," replied Elita before her grey eyes snapped open abruptly. "That's as close as I can get. Something's blocking her spiritual emanations."

"That's good enough," said Mark as he rose from his bench, tossing some coins upon the table to pay for the wine.

Within an hour, the two companions were on horses, galloping east towards the Great Forest. Days passed, the riders crossed most of Talabecland, reaching the city of Wurtbad once again. Crossing the bridge into the city, Mark led the way through town, stopping only long enough to rest the horses and resupply. Resuming their long ride, the couple rode across Stirland, evading the occasional Undead patrol until they reached the edge of the Moot. To the east, the tall, imposing peaks of the Worlds Edge Mountains could be seen, clouds obscuring the snow-tipped range.

With the horses panting and Elita nodding in her saddle, Mark directed them to a nearby Halfling village, where they stabled their mounts in a clean stable, then ate a huge, well-cooked meal in one of the many fine inns of the settlement. Mark loaded a long pipe with rich, Halfling tobacco, then lit the strong-smelling leaves, inhaling the heady smoke with relish. Elita crinkled her pert nose at the overpowering stench, quickly excusing herself as Halfling patrons lit their own pipes and settled down for an evening of song and fine tales.

Elita closed the door to her small bedroom, then sat upon the soft mattress as she pulled off her blouse and leggings. Dressed only in a small pair of white panties, the mage girl slid into bed, pulling the thick coverlet over her bare skin. The young woman stared at the smooth ceiling, listening to the Halflings sing with their melodious voices. She was slipping into a deep, warm sleep when Mark quietly entered the room, then took a long pull from a flagon of beer. Hiccupping softly, the rogue staggered over to the bed, then flopped heavily upon the feather mattress.

"Mark! What the hell do you think you're doing?" hissed Elita crossly.

"Didn't want to sleep alone," muttered the brown-haired man while he dropped a limp arm across Elita's breasts.

"Go to your own room!" replied the mage girl as she pushed vainly at the heavy male next to her.

"C'mon. I know you haven't had any in awhile," grunted Mark as he breathed beer-laiden fumes into Elita's disgusted face.

"Uh, excuse me? Last time I checked I was still a lesbian," bit out the young woman as she rose up to her knees.

"I'll convert ya," grinned the thief as he weakly grabbed Elita's bare arms, then rubbed his head against her bare tits.

"What did I do to deserve this?" asked the girl to the sky before she pushed Mark away.

"Please Elita? I won't tell Amy," swore Mark with right hand upraised.

The purple-haired girl looked away, regarding the pale moon that shone through the bedroom's only window. Long, violet tresses hid the mage girl's face as she considered Mark's words, then she looked directly into the rogue's hopeful eyes.

"This never happened," said Elita firmly.

"What happened?" asked Mark with a mischievious grin.

Elita sighed as she laid on her back, allowing Mark to crawl on top of her and fondle her large, round breasts. Mark leaned down, sucking and loudly licking the prone girl's sweet tits, encircling her pink nipples with his wet tongue. Despite herself, Elita grew aroused, moaning softly as the thief devoured her breasts in his hot mouth. With one hand, Mark rubbed Elita's pussy, caressing the thin fabric of her panties until they grew damp with her juices. The mage girl panted softly as Mark licked inbetween her tits, then kissed down her flat stomach until he reached her warm cunt. He slid off the girl's panties, leaving them encircled around her left ankle as he energetically began rubbing her labia with his fingers. Elita moaned loudly, her breath coming in gasps as her tits heaved in exertion. Sweat gathered on the girl's forehead as she licked her moist, red lips with her small, pink tongue. She grabbed the headboard of the bed above her head with both hands, thrusting her crotch wantonly onto Mark's caressing fingers. Bending down, Mark softly licked the girl's engorged clit, teasing it with his tongue while he listened to Elita's excited groans of pleasure.

Mark nuzzled the mage girl's pussy, burying his mouth in her wet, pink flesh. Elita groaned loudly, her harsh breathing echoing inside the room as Mark explored her tight vagina with his dripping tongue. Elita's naked body writhed and trembled on the bed, her white skin gleaming with sweat as the rogue rubbed his mouth into her throbbing sex. The girl's round tits bobbed and shook as she pumped her crotch against Mark's lips, her teeth biting her lower lip as waves of sexual ecstasy wrapped around her burning flesh. The rogue slid his tongue across Elita's cunt, lapping up her flowing honey as it poured out faster and faster. The girl's inner thighs were slick and gleaming with her fluid, her mound of purple pubic hair a bush of arousing musk as Mark licked her vagina harder, his lips pressing urgently against her quivering womanhood.

"Fuck me! Fuck me with your hot meat!" gasped Elita as she pinched her tits slutfully.

Mark grinned as he watched the naked girl squirm and moan for his cock. Never one to be stingy, the rogue untied his black breeches, then pulled out his erect fuckpole and rubbed the engorged head down Elita's moist pussylips.

"Oh, yeah! That's sooo goood!" moaned the purple-haired girl while she reached out to rub Mark's chest with her sharp-nailed hands.

Mark raised up Elita's legs, making her feet dangle over his shoulders as he slowly slipped his cock into the girl's grasping cunt. As the mage girl moaned loudly with excitement, Mark began pumping his tool in and out of her very tight fucktunnel, sliding deeply into her warm belly before pulling out and letting her wet labia caress his shaft. Elita was holding the headboard in a deathgrip, her knuckles white with strain as she panted for air and felt her pussy turn molten with chaotic lust. The mage girl thrust out her crotch and ass, forcing the cock deeper into her vagina until she was filled with his hard, long tool. The two lovers grunted and moaned as they fucked each other, Mark's hands reaching down to squeeze and fondle Elita's slick tits as she pressed firmly against his flat chest. The naked girl's feet dangled and shook as Mark shoved his member into her pussy, the vice-like vagina sucking ravenously on his cock until cream began to dribble out.

"Uhhh, I'm cumming!" moaned Elita as her rich, sticky honey started to gush out, lubricating Mark's tool as it slid in and out of her dripping blossom. The thief groaned as he orgasmed; thick, white cum spewing out to fill Elita's womb and trickle down her ass as she panted like a bitch in heat. The prone girl screamed in ecstasy, her body trembling uncontrollably as her flesh burned with her own multiple orgasms. Mark collapsed over Elita's small, naked body, his breath hot across her face as he hugged her warm, sweat-slick flesh.

"Thanks," whispered the rogue into Elita's right ear.

"No problem," grinned the young woman as she hugged to slim man to her heaving chest.

"Excuse me, is there a problem in there?" asked the Halfling innkeeper.

"No. Everything's fine," replied Elita. As the concerned innkeeper walked away, the two lovers laughed softly together before sleep claimed them both.

The gates of Nuln shattered and blew into the courtyard under the combined assault of several Undead wraiths. Soldiers screamed and retreated from the battlements as the legions of dead began their final advance against the Imperial city. Thomas quickly descended a stairwell, emerging into the courtyard and the milling ranks of infantry that were attempting to flee deeper into the trade city. The cleric hefted his battle-mace, enscribed with several runes of power that made it glow with a faint, white radiance. Gwen stood at his side, wielding a silver Runeblade and wearing bright, silver body armor.

A tall Wight dressed in black platemail rode into the city on a snorting Nightmare, the black horse's nostrils expelling fire and rank brimstone as it walked calmly into the nearly abandoned court.

"Go back! Go back into the abyss prepared for you!" shouted Tom defiantly.

The Wight laughed shrilly, pulling away its black hood to reveal a ghostly, burning flame with two gleaming, red eyes.

"Fool! Do you not know death when you see it? This is my hour! Die now, and curse in vain!" swore the Wight as it drew its own Runeblade, this one black as pitch and etched with silver sigils of dark magick. Tom cast a Column of Fire, engulfing the Undead in holy, white fire. The Nightmare screamed in agony as it disintegrated, forcing the Wight to jump away and charge towards the waiting priest. Gwen shot forward, swinging her enchanted sword swiftly. The Wight parried the blow, then launched several swings and stabs at the beautiful Elf girl. The two swordwielders danced and lashed out, until finally the Wight sliced deeply into Gwen's stomach, shredding the silver armor like it wasn't there. The Elf girl grunted in pain, falling limply to her knees while the Wight walked past her towards the painfully glowing cleric.

"The Light dies here," promised the Undead as he raised his Runeblade high, then swung it down towards Tom's exposed skull. Thomas blocked the powerful slash, then cast Light from his outstretched left hand. The Wight screeched in agony, covering its vulnerable eyes while Tom pulled back his mace, then slammed the weapon into the Undead fighter's chest. Armor caved in, green ichor spurting out in a long stream as the Wight staggered backwards, then fell loudly onto its back. The flaming head flickered and died, then the suit of armor collapsed amidst a cloud of foul, green mist.

Watching their leader slain by the human cleric, the Undead began to collapse and decay to dust. The ghouls and powerful wraiths quickly spun about, then fled away in full rout. Nuln's defenders cheered as they watched the few remaining Undead run far into the horizon. Thomas' black-armored knights stood around their leader proudly as Tom helped Gwen to her feet, then laid a hand upon her wound to allow his healing magick restore her.

"Hail Lord Thomas! Hail the savior of Nuln!" shouted thousands of relieved voices as they gathered around the courtyard of the eastern gate. The merchant lords of Nuln watched their people praise the heroic cleric; they smiled encouragingly while talking amongst themselves.

"He did it. He saved the city," whispered one merchant in shock.

"Contact the Elector Counts. Tell them to gather in Altdorf for the crowning ceremony. We've found our new Emperor," declared a senior merchant as he waved his hand and cheered along with his city's inhabitants, cheered the cleric that had saved them from certain doom.

====

With the coming of of dawn, Mark and Elita resumed their journey east towards the Worlds Edge Mountains. The morning was cold, yet clear, as the couple galloped along the Aver Reach, an extension of the strong Aver River. By nightfall, the travellers reached the edge of the towering Worlds Edge, mountains that had stood since the building of the Chaos Gate. Mark and Elita set camp within the squat foothills at the base of the towers of rock, then quickly rose with sunrise and probed deeper into the snow-capped range. They rode through a wide mountain pass that led towards the Dwarf city of Zhufbar, which they bypassed in order to approach the large mountain lake called the Black Water. With the sun descending to the west, Mark halted his steed and allowed the animal to drink deeply from the cold waters of the lake. The adventurers were along the northwestern bank of the lake as they knelt to wash dirt-stained faces and drink their fill of the clear mountain liquid.

"Can you still sense Amy?" asked Mark.

"Yes, her essence is stronger, but it still seems overshadowed by something else, something powerful," replied Elita with a small frown.

"Probably the Crown," remarked the thief dismissively.

"Maybe," said the apprentice mage.

"We'll worry about it when we find Amy," retorted Mark as he stood up from his kneeling position, then cocked his head as he heard movement from a nearby stand of trees.

"We've got trouble," hissed Mark as he drew his sword, spinning to face the grove in order to search for foes. Elita managed to unsheathe her own short sword just as a group of Orks charged from the foliage and roared in fury. Mark quickly drew a dagger, then slung it forward, burying it within the right eye of the leading Ork warrior. The green-skinned monster howled in agony, clutching his eye and falling weakly to his knees. Elita chanted nervously, hurling a glowing Magic Missile into the chest of a marching Ork. The monster grunted as it fell backwards, a smoking hole marring its broad, leather-armored chest. Mark raised his sword to counter an Ork's swordchop, then he quickly spun his blade to slash deeply into his opponent's stomach. Steaming intestines and organs spewed out of the sliced flesh, causing the unfortunate Ork a great deal of agony as he fell and died. Elita stabbed an Ork in the chest with a swift lunge, then spun away to avoid another Ork who chopped down with a sharp battle-axe.

Mark slammed his booted foot into the axe-wielding Ork's stomach, propelling the burly monster to the ground. Elita took the reprieve to chant another Magic Missile spell and send the brilliant projectile like a guided arrow into the prone creature's throat. A loud, sizzling sound filled the air as the magickal bolt melted into the Ork's yielding flesh, devouring his neck until the wounded Ork died from his fatal injury.

Mark grinned smugly as he leaned upon his shining sword, then yelled in pain as two arrows slammed into his lightly armored shoulders. As the rogue fell, Elita searched the trees, spotting a lone Ork archer who was quickly reloading his short bow. Frowning darkly, the purple-haired girl pointed both arms at the Ork archer, casting a Flame Orb spell with the last of her energy. A small, flaming orb appeared at Elita's feet, then began rolling forward with increasing speed towards the wide-eyed Ork soldier. The jade-hued creature dropped his bow in fright, then spun around to flee deeper into the protective trees. Elita stared intently at the retreating Ork, commanding the burning sphere to follow her enemy. The sphere shot into the trees, smashing into the Ork's feet, then blossoming to enfold the monster's squat legs. The Ork screamed in agony, squeeling pitifully as the flames eagerly fed on his fatty meat. Burning like dry wood, the Ork's body plopped wetly to the ground, oily black smoke rising from the corpse to ascend into the clear, star-filled sky.

"Are you okay?" asked Elita urgently as she knelt at Mark's side.

"Hell, no! I just got shot!" spat out the thief as he lay weakly on the ground, his wounds bleeding profusely on his leather vest and upon the earth.

"Hold still," ordered the mage girl before she grabbed one of the embedded arrows and pulled it from Mark's body. Mark screamed loudly, filling the valley with his moans as Elita swiftly pulled out the second missile. Dark blood streamed from the rogue's deep wounds, staining his clothes as Elita withdrew bandages from one of her packs and began winding the white cloths around Mark's shoulders.

"I'll cast some Healing spells once your injuries are wrapped," said the young woman as she worked hastily. Before the thief could reply, sounds of movement could be heard from the east. Elita rose quickly to her feet, brandishing her short sword before she saw three ghouls advance into her range of sight.

"Oh, shit," swore the girl as she backed into the staggering thief.

"Get out of hear," said Mark with a grimace as he leaned heavily upon his sword.

"I can't leave you here alone with them," replied Elita with an edge of panic.

"It's the only way to save Amy. Go on, run!" shouted the rogue as he raised his blade, then charged weakly towards the shambling ghouls.

Smelling hot blood, the ghouls hastened their advance, moving with surprising speed until they reached the charging thief. Mark swung his sword, slicing through a ghoul's neck and sending the freed head into a nearby bush. A second ghoul sliced down with its right claw, cutting deep furrows into Mark's blood-stained chest. The rogue grunted in pain as he impaled the ghoul with his sword, driving the sharp metal deep into the creature's rotting innards. Mark could do nothing as the remaining ghoul came behind him and punched both clawed hands into his helpless sides. Mark gurgled on his own frothing blood as corpse-pale hands drove into his flesh, ripping his organs apart from the inside. The attacking ghoul drooled with hunger as Mark's limp body slid to the ground.

Clasping her mouth shut to prevent a horrified scream, Elita ran blindly to the east, desperately attempting to flee the noises of tearing flesh and breaking bones that echoed from the lake shore.

Elita seemed to run for hours, until finally she collapsed to her knees with exhaustion. She clutched her stomach weakly with both arms, then helplessly vomited into the hard dirt before her. The trembling girl wiped her lips with her right sleeve, then wimpered faintly as she tried to regain her strength and press forward. After several minutes, Elita stood up with a shudder, then realized that her short sword was gone. Weaponless and without magick, the mage girl had little hope of defeating the Crown of Sorcery, but she resumed walking, following the call of powerful sorcery that led to her onetime friend and lover.

With night still covering the small valley around her, Elita discovered a small cave upon the northern flank of the canyon. Bright, eye-searing green light spilled like a malignant spirit from the depths of the cavern entrance as Elita closed her grey eyes to mere slits, sensing the spirit of her friend somewhere within this reservoir of black art. Taking a deep breath, Elita walked into the cave, descending down a cold, ragged tunnel into she emerged within a round, stalagmite-filled chamber.

Standing within the center of the room, Amy held a mighty broadsword suspended in the air before her. She chanted dark, forbidden words of magick, sending writhing, glistening runes of power into the black, oily surface of the blade. The Crown of Sorcery glowed with violet fire upon Amy's smooth brow, its sharp barbs embedded deeply in the flesh of her scalp. The possessed sorceress looked away from the enchanted sword, fixing Elita with a cold, unfocused gaze.

"What do you want, child?" asked the Crown with Amy's voice.

"Release Amy," demanded the young woman firmly.

Amy laughed sharply, her howls of mirth resonating from the underground chamber's grey walls.

"Leave now, before you get hurt, little girl," smirked Amy before she resumed work upon the levitating broadsword.

Elita frowned with frustration, then leapt forward to grab the iron-wrought Crown. The young girl fastened her hands on the sharp-edged artifact, grimacing as its barbs sliced her fingers painfully. Amy screamed with fury, bucking and spinning to throw the young woman off of her. With a flare of purple fire, a shield of magick hurled Elita away into one of the unyielding walls. The mage girl groaned in pain as she slid to the floor, her vision blurred and fading as Amy floated to stand in front of her.

"That was stupid, girl. Now you'll pay for it," snarled Amy as she raised her right arm, then shot forth a stream of blue lightning that smashed into Elita's prone body, enveloping it in a cocoon of deadly light.

The mage girl yelled in pain as lightning tore into her skin, constricting her muscles and making her twitch uncontrollably. Using all of her willpower, Elita slid her right hand into one of her beltpouches, then withdrew a small, egg-shaped object. With a trembling arm, the young woman dropped the object to the floor, where it broke and released a thick, obscuring cloud of greenish-brown smoke. Amy drew back, casting Lightning Bolts randomly into the expanding sphere of fog.

Suddenly, a flaming orb rolled out of the cloud, smashing against a magickal shield hastily assembled by the possessed sorceress. Before Amy could counter-attack, a Magic Missile shot forward, splashing harmlessly against the woman's barrier. Elita stumbled out of the fog cloud, her nose dripping with blood from her mental fatigue. The mage girl's magick had been spent, forcing her to withdraw power from her very soul in order to cast the few spells that she knew. Dipping into her essence yet again, Elita raised her hand, summoning another Magic Missile that sped towards Amy's vulnerable back. With her attention elsewhere, Amy failed to raise her shield in time, allowing the Missile to slam painfully into her back. The woman grunted in pain, then spun to hurl Lightning at the helpless apprentice. Elita watched with wide-eyed terror at the blinding bolt of blue lightning that filled her vision before it impaled her stomach. The young woman hurled into another wall, her body smacking loudly against the unforgiving rock before gravity pulled her down to the floor. Acrid smoke curled from Elita's gaping belly wound, filling her nostrils with the intense stench of burning meat.

Amy smiled grimly in triumph, then turned away to approach her finished sword. She seized the weapon with her right hand, then lowered it as she cast a Teleport spell with a mere thought and disappeared in a swirl of green light.

Elita lay weakly upon the floor of the cave. As unconsciousness began to fall over her mind like a relentless black fog, the apprentice mage reached into a belt pouch with trembling fingers, her every thought focused on reaching the healing potion that rested inside.

"What is the status of the plan?" rumbled Nagash as he sat upon his throne of bones.

"The nobles and merchant lords of the Empire have thrown their support behind Tom. He's being escorted to Altdorf to be crowned Emperor, the ceremony should take place within a week," replied the vampire woman, Rachel.

"Excellent," hissed the Supreme Lord of the Undead as he reclined his bony chin upon clasped hands. "With my puppet on the throne of the Empire, I can use the Living to wage war on Chaos, my rival Undead, and the filthy Skaven. When all of my foes have been sufficiently weakened, my legions will swoop down and destroy them all, I shall rule the whole of the Old World!"

"As it should be, master," agreed Rachel with a deep bow.

"Don't count on it," declared an arrogant voice from the entrance of the audience hall. Rachel spun around as Nagash looked up, both evil beings fastening their gaze on a radiant, beautifully lethal Amy. She bore her black, enchanted sword with both hands, and it glowed with violet power.

"Ah. My rebellious Crown has come to face me at last. Good. This saves me the bother of searching for you," whispered Nagash as he rose from his throne slowly. The Liche eased his blade, Mortis, from its sheath of human skin, then descended from his throne's dais until he stood next to Rachel.

"The bitch wields a blade forged by Skaven filth," murmured the vampiress to her lord.

"No, actually I created this by myself," responded Amy with a gloating smile. "I remembered the sword forged by the Council of Thirteen to destroy you long ago, so I just replicated it with my magick."

"Clever, woman, but ultimately futile," snarled Nagash before he motioned with his gauntleted left hand.

Quick as thought, Rachel shot forward with red-nailed claws extended from her delicate hands. Just as the vampiress prepared to slash down with a claw, Amy lashed out with her sword. Violet magick flared brightly, illuminating the wide, darkened chamber as the blade cut through Rachel's torso like a knife through mist. Rachel didn't even have time to scream in anguish as the purple light devoured her body, leaving nothing behind to mark the vampire's passing.

Nagash scowled in frustration, then marched forward brandishing his own enchanted sword, Mortis. The rune-inscribed broadsword hissed through the empty air as the Liche King slashed upwards towards Amy's breasts. The sorceress backed away with agility, then slammed the Undead's blade back with her sword. Greenish fire flared around the two combatants as their blades caressed each other, each foe slashing and swinging tirelessly. The Crown glowed with malevolent light, lending the slim woman who wore it strength and dexterity. Amy tore a gash in Nagash's ebony breastplate, then ripped a tear in the Undead's right arm. Nagash hissed like a wounded snake, counter-attacking with a series of lightning quick ripostes. As the mage girl dodged away, Nagash summoned his evil power, making his sword glow with jade fire before unleashing a stream of dripping flame. The sorceress shrieked in pain as the fire bit into her left side, tearing away a section of her black dress and ripping a chunk of flesh from her torso. Black blood dripped from Amy's wound, staining the cold, granite floor as she stumbled away from her grinning enemy.

"You've lost, wench," crowed Nagash as he raised his sword high for the coup de grace. Blinded by green fire, Amy dove forward, burying her blade to the hilt within the Liche Lord's armored chest. Nagash's howls shook Cripple Peak and the surrounding terrain as he dropped Mortis and clutched his mortal wound. Amy released her sword, falling weakly to her knees as blood loss stole away her strength. Nagash writhed as the enchanted blade's foul magick drained his essence, dispersing his dark soul to the four winds. Lifeless and empty, Nagash's black armor fell apart with a loud clatter, littering the floor like broken glass.

Amy fell limply onto her back, her blood pooling under her body from her gaping side wound. Breathing became harder and harder, her lungs growing weak as her vision grew dim with approaching death.

*You served me well, Amy,* remarked the Crown of Sorcery as it glowed contently with victory. *It's a shame that you are so fragile. Do not worry, I will find another to continue my great work.*

Amy's red lips moved silently in reply, then slowly, inexorably, she stopped breathing and grew cold.

====

Tom sat upon the Emperor's Throne, a small, silver crown adorning his brow. The throne room was empty and dark, as per the Emperor's command. The priest-king's brow furrowed as he sensed the death of Rachel and Nagash, then he smiled in satisfaction.

"I am no one's puppet. Now the Old World belongs to me."

Tom's shrill, mad laughter filled the wide hall, invoking fear within the hearts of anyone close enough to hear.

Night fell across the Worlds Edge Mountains. Elita sat within the pitch-black cave, her breathing coming in short, harsh gasps as her many wounds burdened her slim body with a heavy load of agony. The potion of Healing had repaired some damage, the charred wound on her stomach, the nerve damage to her nervous system. Her mortal wounds were gone, but the accumulated minor hurts threatened to kill her just as surely as a hole in the belly. The cave was cold, the freezing wind making her delicate frame shake and tremble helplessly. Elita's magick returned slowly, it would still be hours before she could cast any spells, and nothing she knew could help her, all of her spells were in combat disciplines. Just as despair began to dig its ravenous claws into her, Elita remembered a lesson that Amy had once given her.

Amy knew a little about sex magick, a long-lost discipline once practiced by a coven of witches to the north that had been corrupted by Chaos. Sex magick was not Chaos magick, but used similar principles. With no other options, Elita sighed quietly to herself, her warm breath turning to mist as it met the cold air of the cave. The young woman slowly pulled off her tight leggings, then pulled her red blouse over her head. Naked except for her ankle boots, Elita began fondling her breasts, rolling the mounds of flesh in her cold hands until her skin grew flushed with arousal. Elita bent down, licking her nipples until they grew hard and pert, her tongue trailing around the round knobs as she grew excited with her own lewd behavior. The purple-haired girl lapped at her tits, her cool, white skin growing pink with warmth.

Elita enjoyed the creamy taste of her own skin, but she halted her breast ravishing so that a more powerful invocation could begin. The mage girl slowly slid her hands down her flat stomach, long fingers sliding over pearl-white flesh until she reached her violet-haired sex. Elita spread her legs apart, exposing her delicate petals of cunt flesh to the cool air of the cave. The girl ran a finger up her small slit, the oriface trembling with stimuli as the digit caressed her pink folds. Elita gasped softly as her body grew warmer from lust, her breathing growing stronger as her arousal attracted magick into her feminine frame. The mage girl's caresses grew more fervent, her finger slid faster and harder against the flesh of her pussy. Honey started oozing from her vagina, coating her cunt until it glistened with female wetness. Elita inserted the wanton digit into her slit, sliding the finger deep into her quivering fuckhole. The naked girl moaned with pleasure, she fondled and squeezed her left breast as she pumped her finger in and out of her clenching pussy.

The cave was growing hot and humid as Elita drew in more magick, her naked body exuding heat as her smooth flesh glistened with sweat. The purple-haired girl moved to her hands and knees, the fingers of her right hand running across her tight ass until she slid them past her crack and into her dripping cunt. Elita groaned loudly, her long, violet tresses cascading down her bare shoulders and across her beautiful, ecstatic face as she thrust her long fingers into her wet snatch, the limbs probing deep into her womb, exploring her womanhood. Female cries of lust echoed within the cave, the chamber glowing with a warm, golden light that Elita ignored as she savored the pleasures of her own body. She quickly brought her dripping fingers to her lips, sucking the warm fluid of her pussy with slutful enjoyment. Fingering and pinching her tits with her free hand, Elita returned her right hand to her crotch, caressing the blood-engorged lips of her labia, then shoving two fingers into her tight cunt. Crying out with closed eyes, Elita masturbated, her fingers pumping lewdly as she pushed them deep into her hot belly. She licked her dry lips, a pink tongue dripping saliva over her delicate, full, red-rimmed mouth as her hips rocked obscenely, her ass pumping up and down as she finger-fucked her own moist pussy. Magick flooded into her sex-driven brain, all of her body's wounds were healed in an instant as an orgasm built inside her naked flesh. Gasping through clenched lips, Elita screamed as she cummed, melting honey burst from her cunt until her inner thighs were sticky with fluid.

Elita fell back against a wall of the cave, her naked body flushed and dripping with sweat. The mage girl brushed away a strand of sweat-slick violet hair, then finally noticed the warm, brightly-lit interior of the underground room.

"Sex magick works. Cool," said Elita as she smiled triumphantly, her round breasts swelling with inner pride and hope.

~~~~~~