NAGASH: THE WAY HOME

Cripple Peak was deathly quiet, dark and abandoned after the death of its master, Nagash, the Supreme Lord of the Undead. All of the thousands of skeletons and zombies created by Nagash to fill his legions decayed to ash when their creator was sent to Hell. The throne room was black and silent, the floor stained with blood from the great battle fought here. The lovely body of the sorceress, Amy, lay decomposing on the cold, stone floor, the Crown of Sorcery still remained on her head, its iron barbs buried deep in her pale, blue flesh.

A human form separated itself from the shadows, the liche known once as John. The undead man was weak, staggering with each step as Nagash's foul magick seeped away from his bony frame. With tattered, black, silk robes rustling, John stumbled to Amy's dead body, falling to his knees next to her while reaching out to grasp the malevolently glowing Crown. John seized the artifact, ripping it out of the dead woman's head, flesh tearing loudly as bits of Amy's scalp clung to the iron barbs. The liche hastily cleaned the gore from the Crown, then slammed it into his own head, the thorns impaling into his grey skin. John hissed with pleasure as new power flowed into his thin body, the magick of the Crown reviving him and restoring his undead essence. The spirit of the Crown of Sorcery briefly tried to overwhelm his mind, but John smashed it into submission, smiling arrogantly in triumph. The liche swirled his robes around his tall form, preparing to Teleport out of the throne room until he noticed a pool of black blood near the throne dais. Walking to the stain, John knelt down next to it, then reached out with his right hand to collect a sample on his finger, raising it to his cracked lips in order to taste.

"Rachel. So, she still lives," whispered John before he rose to his feet, then Teleported from the large chamber in a swirl of violet light.

Thunder roared over the Imperial city of Altdorf. Purple and orange lightning flared within huge, overwhelming clouds, giving the capital of the Empire a sickly sheen. Within the Imperial Palace, Emperor Thomas "The Noble" stood before a tall window, his silver crown shining from the lightning flashing overhead. Thomas wore pure, white robes, a symbol of Sigmar hanging from his neck by a fine, silver chain. The Emperor stood tensely, his hands clenched firmly behind his back.

"Where is Empress Gwen?" asked Tom coldly.

"I don't know, sire. I sent a squad of Imperial guard to search the city, but they failed to find her," replied a nervous servitor.

"Probably out fucking someone," snarled Tom with barely constrained fury. "How are the arrangements going?"

"The Elector Counts are gathering their forces as you ordered them to. They should be fully assembled by the end of the month," answered the servant quickly.

"Excellent," smiled Thomas. "The Old World will kneel down to me, the man who finally defeats Chaos and removes its filthy presence from this planet once and for all."

Gwen moaned loudly, her hands clutching the edge of the headboard as the Elf lord pumped his cock into her tight cunt. The blonde girl's naked body was dripping with sweat as she held her legs apart, her golden bush open like a flower in bloom as Sirrion humped her pussy, his thick member thrusting deep into her warm belly. The Elf noble gasped for breath, his hands fondling and smashing Gwen's full, round breasts as his crotch slammed against the Elf girl's snatch.

"Harder, harder!" groaned Gwen as she pushed her crotch forward, her pussy a vice around Sirrion's pole as it slid in and out of her moist vagina. The Elf male slid his left hand up Gwen's smooth flesh, stroking her shoulder blades, then her shapely neck. Gwen fastened her mouth over his digits, sucking lewdly on them, lavishing her tongue around them. Sirrion continued to squeeze the Elf girl's left tit, pinching the erect nipple firmly as his cock smacked loudly back and forth inside her pink slit. Gwen rubbed the Elf's fingers with her sensual, red lips, her moans growing stronger until she spasmed with a powerful orgasm. Sirrion kept slamming his tool into the blonde girl's cunt until he cummed, his semen flooding the prone girl's womb, then trickling out of her pussy to stain her firm, inner thighs.

Lord Sirrion disengaged himself from the sweat-slick, naked, young woman, then climbed off the bed to fill a golden goblet with sweet, cool, red wine. Thunder cracked over the inn where the two lovers stayed, the eye-searing lightning filling the only window with painful luminescence.

"The Conjunction is getting closer," observed the Elf lord gravely.

"That's good, right?" asked Gwen as she rose from the sticky sheets, her naked body slim and arousing as she grabbed a red, silk robe and slid it on. "Magick will grow more powerful and I'll finally be able to cross the dimensions to my real home."

"Chaos grows more powerful as well," replied Sirrion. "The Chaos Gate opens wide and the pure, corrupting might of the Chaos Realm pours out to engulf the Old World. If no one finds a way to close the Gate, civilization will be overwhelmed and destroyed by the Chaos gods."

"But the Slaan know how to close the Chaos Gate and get me home?" inquired Gwen as she moved to stand next to her Elven lover.

"Yes. You will have to travel far, to the South Lands. There you will find the Lizardmen and their ugly masters, the Mage-Priests of the Old Ones."

"You'll come with me, right?" asked Gwen softly as she drew intimately close, hugging the tall Elf against her curvaceous, seductive body.

"Perhaps," replied Sirrion with a smile, quite aware that the Elf girl was attempting to persuade him with her feminine charms.

"Let's debate the issue some more," murmured Gwen huskily as she took Sirrion's goblet from his hand, setting it on the table as she kissed the Elf lord wantonly on the mouth, her full breasts pressed firmly against his smooth chest.

Emperor Thomas sat at his large, ornate desk, hunched over dozens of maps that described all of the northern Empire and the arctic region known as the Realm of Chaos. As the Emperor stared downwards with blood-shot and exhausted eyes, Elita appeared in the center of the room, her garb consisting of a long, flowing, black robe and a staff of rich, polished wood. The young woman's long, purple hair was tied into a ponytail that dangled down her back to the top of her tight, rounded ass. Elita stood confidently, secure in her newfound powers as she tapped her staff lightly on the floor.

Thomas jerked his head up, his expression frantic as he grabbed the Hammer of Sigmar, then crouched into a fighting stance.

"Have no fear, my lord," soothed Elita before she bowed respectfully at the waist. "I am not here to harm you."

"You're...you're Amy's friend, Elita," muttered Thomas as he stared at the girl through slitted eyes.

"That's right. I've come to help you," replied Elita with a warm smile.

"Where's Amy? I haven't seen her in weeks," said Tom.

"She's dead. The Crown of Sorcery possessed her and forced her to kill Nagash," answered the sorceress sorrowfully.

"So that's how the bastard died," muttered Tom to himself.

"I was sorely wounded when I went after her, but I managed to heal myself and continue my search. I found her in Cripple Peak, dead in Nagash's throneroom. The Crown of Sorcery was gone, someone had torn it from her head. I took her body away from the citadel and buried it in the Worlds Edge Mountains, she'll finally know peace now," said Elita, her eyes moist with unshed tears.

"How can you help me? I have plenty of war wizards," stated Thomas pragmatically.

"I presumed that you wanted to go home to your world. With the Conjunction coming, the time is ripe for you to go back. I can help in the quest necessary for you to return."

"Go back? Are you crazy? I'm an Emperor here! I have the power of life and death over hundreds of thousands of people! I never want to go home," replied Tom with a frenzied gaze. "I'm going to use this Conjunction to destroy Chaos once and for all. The people of this world will be so grateful they'll worship me as a god, I'll be all-powerful!"

Elita took an unsteady step back, her mind shocked as she watched Tom grin maniacally and drool slightly onto his chin.

"What about Gwen? Does she want to go home?" asked the mage girl tentatively.

"Gwen? That Elvish whore?! I don't know. She's too busy fucking everything with a dick around here! You'll just have to ask her yourself," snarled Tom before he slammed the Hammer of Sigmar onto the desk, then fell limply back into his cushioned, high-backed chair. "Now, unless you want to give me a blowjob, get that sweet little ass of yours out of my study."

Elita bowed briefly, then left the room by its well-crafted wooden doors. A servant standing just outside the doors jumped back, his gaze startled as he took in the petite, attractive girl in mage robes.

"Excuse me!" gushed the servant as he bowed low quickly. "I didn't know that his majesty would be having a guest tonight. Will you be staying with his majesty in his royal chambers, or do you require rooms of your own?"

"My own room, please," replied Elita with a backward glance at the study doors behind her.

"This way, my lady," motioned the servitor as he walked hastily down a richly-appointed hallway, passing through many halls and ascending two staircases before stopping at a single door on the left side of a passageway.

"You may stay in these rooms," said the servant respectfully. "Alert any of the servants if you desire anything."

"Thank you," nodded Elita while she watched the servant bow and depart. Entering the ornate audience room, the mage girl closed and barred the door behind her, then walked to the large bedroom, setting her staff against a wardrobe. Elita removed her black robe, white bra, and panties, then crawled onto the soft bed with one of her beltpouches. Opening the pouch, Elita rummaged inside, stuffing her arm in all the way to the elbow before she found what she was looking for. The naked girl withdrew a small jar of ointment, then a thick, polished, wooden dildo. Elita opened the jar, spreading a thin coating of ointment across her labia and clit. The cream burned softly, exciting her pussy until it quivered. Elita grabbed the dildo with a trembling hand, licking the tip several times with her tongue to get it slick and moist. She ran the dildo across her cunt, the wood hard and smooth as it caressed her tender, pink flesh.

Gasping quietly, Elita slid the dildo into her pussy, slowly pushing the object into her vagina until it filled her tight fuckhole. The mage girl cupped her right breast, licking the engorged nipple until she shivered with pleasure. She leaned back, resting on the headboard as she pumped the dildo back and forth, filling her belly with the tool's hard length until her slit with glistening with honey. Elita took a moment to pull the slick dildo out, raising it to her lips and savoring her own juices as she licked and sucked the tool like a real penis. She rubbed the dildo against her red lips, her sensuous mouth caressing and fondling the rod, moistening it with her wet saliva. Elita slid the dildo across her small breasts, moving it up and down the valley of her cleavage, then rubbing the slick object across her sensitive nipples. The naked girl rubbed the wooden cock down her flat, firm belly, then ran it across her slim, inner thighs before placing it over her round ass. She slid the dildo between her asscheeks, rubbing it harder and faster into her crack until it burned with soft, delicious pain.

Elita knelt up, then turned around until she faced the head of the bed, her left hand holding the tip of the headboard tightly. The purple-haired girl resumed sliding the dildo across her smooth buttocks, then tickled her tight asshole with the wooden rod. Moving slowly, Elita pushed the dildo into her anus, filling the small oriface, the hard, wooden cock pressing her netherhole wide open. Elita moaned loudly, her teeth biting her lower lip as she closed her eyes and pushed the dildo deeper into her shithole. The naked girl leaned against the headboard, her tits mashed hard against the unyielding wood as she reached down with her left hand and fingered her dripping pussy. Female cries of ecstasy and lust filled the large bedroom as Elita pumped the dildo into her asshole and slid two fingers into her cunt, probing her vagina until a stream of cum pumped onto her digits and across her naked thighs. Elita groaned with aching, wanton pleasure, her hips and ass rocking obscenely as she fucked her lower orifices until they burned with sensual agony. Magick flooded into Elita's glistening body, the girl's masturbation drawing the power of Chaos like a bee to honey. When her mind flared with overwhelming mana, Elita stopped her probing, removing the cum-soaked dildo and pulling out long, delicate fingers from her bush.

Elita lay exhausted on the tussled bed, her skin wet and flushed with heat as her body cooled from her self-ravishing.

"I'll try to see Gwen tomorrow," muttered the girl to herself before she turned onto her side and watched the green lightning flash like an angry beast through the framed window.

====

Elita walked down a carpeted hallway, the passage lit by softly glowing lightorbs as she passed harried servants, Imperial advisers, and messengers. The purple-haired girl stopped at the ornate double doors that led to Empress Gwen's chambers, ignoring the two burly human guards as she knocked loudly on the polished wood. When no one answered, Elita knocked again, biting her lip softly in growing frustration.

"Who is it?" asked Gwen loudly through the doors.

"Elita. I was your friend Amy's apprentice," replied the young woman.

Footsteps drew closer to the portals, then the right door opened inwards with Gwen standing just inside dressed in a white shift, brown, leather leggings, and soft, leather boots.

"Come in, please," welcomed Gwen, her eyes furtive as she glanced at the two men guarding her room. Elita walked quickly inside, then turned to watch the Elf girl as she closed the door, then slid a bolt firmly home.

"I apologize for making you wait," began Gwen as she marched across her audience room and entered her bedroom, "but I'm in a bit of a hurry. I'm going on a long trip and I need to prepare quite a lot."

"I see. No need to apologize," replied Elita while she stood in the middle of the entry chamber glancing curiously at the bedroom's open door. "I take it you are going to attempt to return to your homeworld, during the Conjunction."

"Yes, that's right," acknowledged Gwen as she re-entered the room dressed in bright chainmail, her legs protected by conforming metal plates. The Elf girl wore a weaponsbelt across her shapely hips, a sheathed, jeweled sword resting lightly against her left thigh. "How did you know?"

"The Conjunction is the best time to attempt dimensional travel. I want to help you get home, if you'll let me," said Elita fervently.

"What happened to Amy?" asked Gwen as she drew close to Elita, staring intently into the mage girl's liquid eyes.

"She died killing Nagash, the Crown of Sorcery made her do it," replied the girl.

"Amy was a good person, she shouldn't have died in this nightmare place," said Gwen with a heated tone. The Elf girl re-focused her blue eyes on Elita, then smiled softly in apology. "I accept your help. Are you ready to go now?"

"Yes, my lady," answered Elita with a respectful bow. "I have everything I need."

"Good. Let's go," responded Gwen briskly, shouldering a full backpack, then throwing the double doors of her rooms wide open, marching past the two guards without a backwards glance.

"You're assuming quite a lot, my lady," said Lord Sirrion as he reclined in his chair, a cup of wine grasped loosely in his left hand. "The quest will be a long and dangerous one. Do you even know what you have to do?"

"Uhh, I was kind of hoping that you might be able to help me with that," replied Gwen with a self-conscious smile.

"We could use the Chaos Gate," offered Elita, "but the monsters will be infesting the area like a ravenous plague."

"True, the Gate would be far too dangerous, and uncontrollable," agreed Sirrion before he took a long pull from his cup. "No, your best bet will be the Lizardmen. The snakes' masters, the Slaan, have magickal knowledge that outstrips even the Elf Magi, but don't tell them that I said that."

"Yes, you mentioned the South Lands last night," nodded Gwen.

"We'll have to go somewhere else before we enter the South Lands," retorted Sirrion. "We must first recover an ancient artifact known as the Staff of Jade, held in a human city called Antoch."

"Antoch? That's well beyond Bretonnia," murmured Elita in mild shock.

"It is far, but it corresponds to our travel path, since we are going south anyway," replied the Elf lord.

"Sorry, it's just that I've never left the Empire," said the mage girl with a sheepish grin.

"You're going to see quite a lot of the Old World before we get our friend home," soothed Sirrion politely.

"Should we go by sea or overland?" asked Gwen intently.

"I suggest by sea, what do you say Elita?" asked Sirrion.

"Sea sounds fine."

"Well, since it would be discourtious to ignore the plight of two beautiful women like yourselves, I shall accompany you and secure river passage to Marienburg. From there, we can take ship into the Sea of Claws," said Lord Sirrion gallantly.

"Thank you, my lord!" gushed Gwen, leaning across the wooden table to hug the tall Elf affectionately. Sirrion quickly disengaged himself from Gwen's warm embrace, blushing as he gazed around the room for gawkers to the Elf girl's undignified display.

"I shall see to the travel preparations, my lady," said Sirrion gravely, bowing low to both Gwen and Elita before spinning on his booted heel and stridely stiffly from the tavern room.

"I like him," whispered Elita with a sly grin, clinking her mug of wine with an equally smug Gwen.

Emperor Thomas rose from his soft chair, stretching sore arms over his head as he yawned with fatigue. Rolling up a report scroll, Thomas left his desk, leaving the dimly-lit study for a bright hallway guarded by two soldiers of the Reiksguard. Thomas strode proudly through the halls of the Palace, smug with authority as he walked to his chambers and went inside. Light orbs slowly came to life, illuminating Thomas' way as he poured himself a crystal glass of wine, then sipped the elixir on his journey to the bedroom. As the lights faded in the entry room, more lights turned on in the royal bedchamber, revealing rich appointments and a large, empty bed. Thomas drained the rest of his wine quickly, his eyes burning with anger and frustration as he thought of Gwen, the Elf woman who had finally abandoned him.

"Your Empress seems to be missing," observed Rachel as she emerged from the dark shadows.

"You!" snarled Tom as he spun to face the vampiress, his hand clutching the enchanted dagger on his belt.

"You remember me! How sweet!" smiled Rachel, her hands pressed against her breasts.

"I thought that you would be long gone by now, since your Undead master is no more," goaded Tom sarcastically.

"I have no master now, I make my own destiny," retorted Rachel smoothly.

"How nice for you," said Tom as he relaxed slightly, his right hand resting on the pommel of his dagger. "But what does your new destiny have to do with me? We're both free agents now."

"I thought that we might work together again," smiled Rachel seductively, her hips swaying hypnotically as she moved closer to the skeptical priest-king.

"I don't think so. I have my own plans for the Empire."

"Ah, yes. I've heard of your plan to rid the world of Chaos. Very ambitious, very futile," said the vampiress as she stood before Tom, her slim body curvaceous and warm as she caressed the Emperor's left arm softly. "Greater men than you have tried to rid the Old World of the Chaos gods. Even the entire Elven nation failed to close the Chaos Gate, I doubt one man can overshadow their efforts."

"You underestimate me, bitch," hissed Thomas as he grabbed Rachel's arms tightly, squeezing the woman's pale flesh in a vice grip. "I'm assembling the largest army the Empire has ever seen. I will overrun the Chaos knights and their corrupted minions, I will bathe the Chaos Realm in blood, then close the Chaos Gate just as it surges open during the Conjunction. The people of this primitive world will worship me as a god for saving their pathetic lives, you're nothing to me."

"But I can help you, my lord," replied Rachel in a honeyed tone, her mouth moving sensuously, her lips red and moist with delightful promise. "Let me serve your divine plan."

"Maybe," allowed Thomas as he stared at Rachel's arousing body, her black dress drawing his eyes to an expanse of white, rounded cleavage. Tom placed his left arm around the woman's slender waist, pulling the vampiress hard against his strong body. He smiled as he felt Rachel's breasts smashed against his chest, her scent coying, strong with passionate death and wild, uninhibited sex. The Emperor pulled the woman's head back by her long, black hair, crushing her mouth with his own, forcing his tongue down her warm throat.

Rachel slowly pulled away from Tom's embrace, a bridge of saliva connecting their two open mouths. The slim woman's eyes glowed with golden fire as she stared intently at the Emperor, her mind insinuating itself past the cleric's mental defenses.

"I've grown stronger since last time," smiled Thomas arrogantly, grasping Rachel's small wrists and squeezing them in a overbearing grip.

"Evidently," acknowledged Rachel with a demure expression as she lowered her gaze, her eyes dimming from bright gold to hazel. Thomas pushed the woman's arms behind her back, pressing her wrists together as he kissed her again, his lips rough and demanding as he rubbed his muscled frame against her yielding body. The Emperor pushed Rachel away to arm's length, taking hold of the shoulders of her black dress and ripping downwards. The sleek fabric tore easily, sliding down her pale, white skin until the garment pooled at her stiletto-heeled feet. Thomas pushed the naked woman roughly onto the large bed, leaned over her, then began devouring her round, full tits with his mouth and tongue. Rachel hissed with raw pleasure, licking her moist, red lips with her tongue, her twin fangs dripping with warm saliva. Thomas rubbed his face over the vampiress' breasts, licking the sweet mounds of flesh, then sucking loudly on them. He ran his tongue down the valley of her cleavage, then bit her blue-tinged nipples until they were pert and hardened. As Tom licked across Rachel's flat stomach, he slid his right hand inbetween her thighs, caressing her black-haired bush, fingering her pussy until it grew wet with arousal.

"Suck my pussy, my lord," begged Rachel as she ran her hands through Tom's short hair, pressing his face down against her trembling stomach. Thomas slowly pushed Rachel completely onto the bed, then spread her legs apart, exposing her dark batch of pubic hair and her glistening, pink cunt. Thomas crawled over the bed, kneeling as he turned the naked woman around onto her stomach. The cleric ran his hands across Rachel's beautiful ass, sliding fingers into her crack, then leaning down to lick the ripe flesh of her tight buttocks. The vampiress groaned with arousal, arching her back and thrusting her ass up into the air for the Emperor to ravish.

Thomas grabbed Rachel around the waist with his left arm, then slammed down hard with his right palm, smacking the naked woman's rump loudly. Rachel cried out in surprise, then moaned with excitement as Thomas spanked her again and again. Rachel's ass grew cherry-red with bruising as Thomas slapped her skin repeatedly, his hand an instrument of exquisite pain as he caressed her buttocks with hard slaps. When Rachel's cries of ecstasy filled the spacious bedchamber, Thomas halted his erotic assault, running his eyes across a uniform red bruise over his lover's rump. He pried apart Rachel's sore asscheeks, then bent down to run his tongue across her throbbing pussy, his wet probe caressing and moistening the naked woman's slit.

"Yes! Yes! More!" shouted Rachel before she bit her lower lip, her hips rocking up and down as Thomas buried his face in her ass, his mouth sucking loudly on her melting cunt. Tom thrust his tongue into Rachel's vagina, his probe sliding deep into her womanhood, pressing into her belly until she moaned weakly. The priest-king's hands roamed across her sore ass, caressing her bruised flesh lovingly as he nuzzled her pussy like a cub ravenous for milk. Rachel grasped handfuls of silk sheets, panting loudly as her buttocks writhed within her lord's firm grip. A trickle of honey became a torrent, gushing from the naked woman's snatch, bathing Thomas' face as he attempted to lap it all up with his fluid-soaked tongue. Rachel grew limp across the bed, her sensuous body exhausted from its carnal activity. Female juices collected between the woman's firm thighs, gathering in a small pool that stained the sheets with her powerful, arousing musk. Thomas collected some of Rachel's cum with his fingers, then crawled forward and pressed his dripping fingers across the woman's full, parted lips. Rachel moaned softly as she licked her own fluid from Thomas' fingers, her tongue lewdly devouring the sticky residue until the Emperor's digits were clean.

Thomas smiled benevolenty as he pulled up Rachel's head by her hair, forcing her to look up at him submissively before he crushed her lips with his hungry mouth.

====

The river skiff slowly slid north along the River Reik, propelled by the steady rows of indentured servants. Elita and Lord Sirrion stood at the stern of the sleek vessel, watching as the skyline of Marienburg grew larger in their line of sight.

"I love the smell of the water, the sound of the bow slicing through the waves," said Sirrion, his ponytailed, blonde hair flying in the strong breeze. "It reminds me of my time serving in the Elvish Imperial Navy, patrolling the western coast of Ulthuan."

"Is that when you learned so much about the Lizardmen?" asked Elita as she brushed strands of purple hair away from her delicate face.

"Yes. Occasionally we would sail along the Lustrian coast, foraging for supplies and going on foolish treasure hunts. We met the Skinks and Saurus, I even had a brief audience with a young Slaan mage-priest, which means that he was only about three hundred years older than me," replied Sirrion with a depreciating grin. "The Slaan told me about the Staff of Jade, why they needed it, and that a great Conjunction would someday come to herald the final victory of Chaos. I reported my conversation to the Elvish High Lords, but they dismissed the Slaan's knowledge, I think they were jealous because the Slaan were closer to the Old Ones than the Elves were."

"I see. You've had a really interesting life," remarked Elita with an envious stare.

"You see a lot of things after living for centuries," shrugged Sirrion.

Before Elita could question Sirrion further, the river boat slid into a large harbor along the eastern side of Marienburg. After waiting a score of minutes for an empty pier slot to appear, the river skiff's silent captain had his craft advance into an available section, his crew quickly retracting the oars and securing the small ship to the pier. Elita and Sirrion descended to the cabin section, alerting Gwen to their arrival and gathering their few belongings. Lord Sirrion paid the captain the remainder of his passage fee, then followed the two young women as they hopped onto the cluttered pier, then made their way into the crowd-packed harbor district. The trio entered a wide street leading west, passing dozens of shops and inns before reaching a large, open market square. Gwen purchased some steaming food for her companions, then led the way into a relatively quiet tavern where they could eat and drink peacefully. After a buxom serving wench had brought them tall mugs of cold ale, Gwen took a long drink, then fixed her blue-eyed gaze on the Elf Lord.

"Now what?" asked the lovely Elf girl.

"We'll have to find a ship that's going to sail south. I know a few good places to check out," assured Sirrion confidently.

"How long will we stay here?" inquired Elita impatiently.

"No more than a day or two. Sea trade to Araby and Ulthuan is pretty heavy this time of year."

"Then I guess we stay here and take in the sights," replied Gwen with a helpless shrug.

"You should enjoy Marienburg, it's a free port city. Anything you could ever want can be bought here if you find the right place," said Sirrion with a sly gleam in his eyes. "But you two want to be careful, slavery is big business here. Two beautiful women like yourselves would be snatched up in two seconds if you're too relaxed."

"I understand," nodded Gwen seriously, her hand resting lightly on the jeweled pommel of her long sword.

"Good. I'm off to find sea passage," stated Sirrion before he drained his mug, made a face at the taste of the ale, then rose from his bench and strode gracefully from the common room.

"What shall we do to entertain ourselves?" asked Elita as she slid her gaze over Gwen's shapely, armored form.

"I think we should go shopping for supplies," answered the Elf girl with a disapproving glare. "Since this is an open port, hopefully we can find some helpful potions and magick items for sale."

"Oh, all right," pouted Elita as she finished her own drink, then got up and made her way to the tavern's exit. Gwen followed her younger companion, computing in her head how much it would cost to buy several healing potions and a few spell scrolls for the group's resident mage.

Ilse staggered along the bank of the Blind River, the night cold and unforgiving as it lashed her small body with freezing winds. The green-haired girl stumbled and fell painfully to the ground, her thin arms wrapped around her scantily-clad body. Ilse rubbed her hands across her arms, the thin, torn, black shift doing nothing to protect her pale, white flesh from the searing wind. The garment was short, exposing her slim, shapely legs and upper thighs. The shift was torn across the front, revealing a wide section of curvaceous cleavage. Ilse's teeth chattered loudly in her mouth as she slowly rose to her bare feet, her gait jerky and uncoordinated as the cold stiffened her muscles.

Although alone for many days, Ilse couldn't curse her cruel master, the liche John. The Undead creature had taken her from her village, raped and abused her maliciously, then abandoned her before entering the dark citadel of Nagashizzar. Left on her own, the broken girl had followed the Blind River out of the Worlds Edge Mountains, reaching the open plains that bordered the Marshes of Madness. Days without food wore away Ilse's small reserves of strength, making her vision blurred and every movement an agony. Finally, Ilse collapsed, her young body depleted and quivering with exhaustion. The cold water of the Blind River lapped at Ilse's prone body, drenching her shift and numbing her fading senses. The jade-maned girl completely failed to notice when a tall, male shape descended from the sky, walking silently to the river's edge and rolling the nearly unconscious girl onto her back. Ilse's closing eyes glimpsed a thin frame and a shock of short, white hair, then darkness claimed her pain-ravaged brain.

Ilse awoke to feel blessed warmth caress her petite body. Blinking her eyes sleepily, the young girl discovered a radiant fire burning beside her and a thick blanket wrapped around her slim form. Gazing beyond the fire, Ilse discovered her savior kneeling a short distance from the blaze, watching her with glowing, golden eyes. Ilse sat up, keeping the blanket wrapped around her bare shoulders and breasts.

"Thank...thank you," stuttered the girl, her mouth unused to speech after remaining silent for so long. "Who are you?"

"For now, let's just say I'm a friend, someone who can help you," replied the man. The stranger smiled coldly, two sharp fangs protruding from his upper jaw.

"You're a vampire," whispered Ilse weakly, her nerves turning numb with fear and shock.

"Not just a vampire, a vampire lord," corrected the man with an insulted air.

"Forgive me, my lord," apologized Ilse quickly, bowing her head in shame.

"You are forgiven, child," said the stranger as he rose gracefully to his feet, his black cloak swirling around his thin, wiry body while he advanced to kneel next to the wary young girl. "In fact, I can offer you what you desire most in all the world, revenge."

"Revenge?" repeated Ilse softly.

"Yes, revenge against the beast that raped your ripe, young body and tore your virginity away in one, blood-soaked moment. Revenge against the liche, John," said the stranger, his golden eyes bright and hypnotic. "Would you like revenge?"

"Yes, I would," agreed Ilse, a fierce smile growing on her once-innocent face.

"Then give yourself to me, and I will make you an instrument of death and vengeance," swore the pale man passionately.

Ilse hesitated a moment, then let the blanket fall from her shoulders, her body naked and vulnerable. The stranger smiled in hungry anticipation, moving to kneel behind Ilse as she stared vacantly into the crackling fire. The vampire tilted the naked girl's head to the right, exposing a long stretch of her slim, delicate neck. Ilse closed her eyes, her breath coming in soft gasps as she awaited the feeding that was to come. The white-haired vampire hissed softly, seductively, as he bared his long, sharp fangs, his eyes burning like twin, evil suns. Ilse moaned loudly when the vampire struck, his fangs burying themselves deeply within the young girl's soft flesh. The stranger's lips fastened on the juncture of neck and bare shoulder, his mouth sucking loudly as he drank the naked girl's sweet, intoxicating blood. Ilse shuddered briefly, her body growing cold and numb as her life essence drained away, escaping with her blood into the frame of the ravenous vampire. After a score of fading heartbeats, Ilse fell limp, her body a pale, blue shell almost bereft of life. The vampire eased Ilse's body to the ground, then bit into his own wrist; black blood welled from the wound.

"Now, drink before death claims you, drink and prepare to bathe the world in hot blood," whispered the stranger soothingly, holding his open wrist over Ilse's mouth as she used the last of her strength to swallow the vampire's foul ichor.

====

The merchant galley sailed across the black waters of the sea as night covered the sky. Elita stood near the bow, her long, purple hair blowing behind her as waves crashed against the vessel's hull. She wore a black cloak wrapped tightly against her thin frame as she gazed at the dark horizon, the coast to her left and the open sea to her right. The sky was clear as bright stars twinkled, ignorant of the death and chaos raging across the breadth of the Old World. The sea voyage to Antoch had been uneventful so far, over a week had passed without encountering anything except an occasional galley or light patrol craft. Elita wrapped her arms around her breasts, inhaling the clear, salt-tinged air before she prepared for bed.

"This is...impressive," said Gwen as she entered the cabin she shared with Lord Sirrion. Candles glimmered all around the room, giving the chamber a soft, warm feel as the Elf lord walked up to her and offered a full glass of wine.

"I thought that I should make tonight special since things may get hectic once we reach Antoch," replied Sirrion with a depreciating smile.

"It's a sweet thought," murmured Gwen before she leaned forward and kissed the Elf softly on the lips. The Elf girl drank her wine slowly, savoring its sweet, tart flavor as she swayed over to the prepared bed, then sat gracefully on its edge. Placing the empty glass on a small night table, Gwen untied her white robe and let it fall to the floor, allowing Sirrion to admire her pure, white skin and shapely body.

Draining his own wine in a large gulp, Sirrion discarded his own glass, then sat next to Gwen, grasping her chin softly in his hand and kissing her lingeringly on the mouth. The embrace was long and hot, the two Elves growing excited by mutual arousal as they caressed each other's lips, then entwined each other's tongues together. Sirrion slid his right hand up Gwen's bare stomach, caressing her smooth, warm flesh until he reached her large, rounded tits. Parting from the blonde girl's delicious lips, Sirrion fastened his mouth on her left breast, suckling it loudly while Gwen moaned with aching pleasure. Gwen reclined onto her back upon the soft bed as Sirrion retained his mouth-lock on her tits, his lips sliding wetly across her mounds of desire. He circled her nipples with his tongue, hardening the small knobs as he moistened them with saliva. The male Elf buried his face in the prone girl's cleavage, running his tongue up and down her soft, warm valley. Gwen groaned weakly, holding Sirrion's head against her breasts with one arm while she reached down with the other to fondle her own tuft of blonde pubic hair. Sirrion wrapped his arms around Gwen's neck, kissing her enthusiastically, his lips quivering to sample her intoxicating skin.

Elita pursed her lips, blowing out the only lantern illuminating the small cabin she slept in. Discarding her black robe, the naked girl slid underneath a single, light sheet, then rolled onto her side, closing her eyes and allowing sleep to wash over her.

The mage girl spun around, floating in a sea of pink clouds and endless space. She quickly looked down and saw that she was naked, suspended over a bottomless void of pink emptiness. Warm winds caressed her bare flesh, the breeze gentle yet probing as it washed over her tits and pussy. Elita covered her crotch with her left hand, afraid to allow arousal to cloud her mind as she tried to comprehend where she was.

"Welcome to Astral space," said John behind the nude sorceress. Elita spun around, her eyes wide with recognition and terror as she beheld the liche floating before her.

"Amy told me about you, how you raped her in here," snarled Elita angrily.

"Ah, but she liked it," grinned the liche lavisciously. "Her cries of ecstasy echoed across this entire dimension."

"You lie, undead filth," spat the mage girl.

"Maybe, what is truth?" shrugged John as he slowly spun around Elita, his robes billowing from his flight. "I used to be human like you once, that didn't stop me from lying, why should being dead be an impediment? We are more alike than unalike, my beautiful, little bird."

"You gave yourself to Chaos, you're nothing but a perverted, rotting corpse that enjoys inflicting pain on others," shouted Elita defiantly.

"So? What's your point?" smiled John viciously, his fangs gleaming in the rosy light. "I'd like to continue this little discussion, but I didn't invade your mind to talk all night."

Thunder roared around Elita as the gentle breeze became a buffeting, cold wind. The pink clouds were devoured by black thunderheads that spread around the two floating mages, plunging the duo into soul-freezing blackness. Elita summoned a round, yellow magelight, the small sphere barely illuminating the naked girl's body and a short space around herself. Time passed, Elita tried to wake up, but the nightmare refused to release her. Suddenly, two glowing red orbs winked open high above her, engulfing the young woman in two wide shafts of blood-red light.

"Iss thiss the female who knew Amy?" growled a deep, heart-stopping voice.

"It is, Lord Nagash," replied John respectfully from the darkness.

"Your lover destroyed my corporeal form, she used my own Crown of Sorcery against me," groaned Nagash. "She is dead, but I have not had my revenge. You shall accept the agony that I would have inflicted upon her. You will die, but it will not be swift. Your pain in this place will be nothing compared to what I will do to your ripe flesh when my new body is prepared."

As the two burning eyes pinned Elita in place, metal chains flashed out of the dark, punching through the naked girl's hands, embedded in place by nasty, curved hooks. The chains retracted, pulling Elita's hands up and apart, suspending her over a sea of night.

"My slave, John, has showed me some interesting techniques. He says that he learned them from things called 'videos' on his world. I'm eager to try some of his ideas on you, sweet meat," purred Nagash as leather straps slapped across Elita's face, gagging her mouth and fastening painfully around her skull. John emerged from the dark wearing a face-obscuring leather hood and wielding a long, flaming whip. Snapping the weapon a few times in order to heighten Elita's fear, John lashed out, caressing the bound girl's naked back, scorching her tender skin until it blistered. Elita cried out, her moans muted by the tight, leather gag strapped across her mouth as Nagash's ecstatic laughter assaulted her ears and reverberated across Astral space.

Gwen moaned with pleasure, her hips rocking as Sirrion thrust his cock in and out of her wet cunt. The naked Elf girl clutched the foot of the bed, resting on her hands and knees as Sirrion fucked her from behind, his hands holding tightly to her hips as he pushed his member deeply into her womb. Long, golden hair hung down Gwen's face and shoulders as she closed her eyes and panted loudly, her pale skin glistening with sweat under the warm candlelight. Sirrion leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Gwen's slim waist and hugging her tightly as he humped her tight, round ass.

"Yes! Oh, yes!" groaned Gwen as she pushed out her buttocks, forcing the Elf lord's cock even deeper into her clenching vagina. Gwen turned her head back to the left, sticking out her tongue so that Sirrion could caress it with his own. The two moaning lovers french-kissed as they coupled, their naked bodies gleaming as they writhed erotically on the disheveled sheets. Gwen's moans grew louder and faster as she built towards orgasm, her mouth stretching open as she screamed with her climax. Sirrion groaned into Gwen's sweat-slick hair, his cock throbbing as it gushed streams of semen into the Elf girl's warm belly. Exhausted but sated, the two lovers fell back into the bed, holding each other lovingly until they slid into a deep, untroubled sleep.

Gwen and Sirrion awoke with a start as a dull boom sounded around them. Quickly dressing, the two Elves charged up the stairs to the main deck, blinking as bright sunlight briefly blinded them. The duo walked to where Elita stood, wrapped in her black cloak and holding a mug with two shaking hands.

"What's that noise?" asked Gwen as she squinted in front of the ship. On the mainland, vast, open desert stretched as far as the eye could see. The galley was sailing east, into the Gulf of Medes.

"Cannons," answered Sirrion as he pointed forward. "There."

Gwen gasped softly as she discovered large, tall plumes of black smoke curling into the hot, morning sky. Elita said nothing, her gaunt face cold and expressionless as she sipped the mixture within her mug.

"It appears that someone has beat us to Antoch," remarked Sirrion wryly.

"This attack is insane!" shouted Reiksmarshall Captain Kurt Helsberg. "No one has ever attacked the Realm of Chaos and won!"

"I will win, I have the favor of Sigmar and of destiny," replied Emperor Thomas softly as he sat within his high-backed throne, regarding the irate noble with clasped fingers.

"You will destroy the Imperial Army and leave us vulnerable to attack. If you must invade something, attack the Undead! With Nagash gone, this is the perfect opportunity to destroy the Undead scourge once and for all!"

"No. They have a new leader, Arkhan the Black. The Undead are a minor threat, but the legions of Chaos will destroy the Empire if we do not prevent the widening of the Chaos Gate during the Conjunction," said the Emperor coolly.

"How will you close the Gate? Not even the Elf Mage Lords could achieve that feat," said Helsburg vehemently.

"The Imperial War Wizards have created an orb that will seal the opening into Chaos, but allow a small hole so that magick will not die in the Old World," replied Thomas.

"Have they tested this orb? Do they know for certain that it will work?" inquired the Captain.

"Nothing in life is certain, Kurt," retorted Thomas sharply.

"I still believe that this is foolish crusade, and I intend to protest this action in front of the Elector Counts," threatened the Reiksmarshall.

"Rachel, deal with my friend the Captain, please."

As the Reiksmarshall frowned in confusion, Rachel descended from the shadows, wrapping her arms around the startled man, then plunging her fangs into his exposed neck. Kurt screamed as the vampiress drained his blood; his body fell limply to the floor while Rachel sucked loudly on his cooling flesh.

"Life's a bitch and then you die," observed Thomas as he watched Rachel pull away from the Captain's torn neck, flecks of blood dripping from her twin fangs.

====

Gwen, Elita, and Sirrion stood near the bow of the merchant galley, gazing in dread fascination as unknown forces assaulted the fortress city of Antoch. Imperial cannons roared from the city's parapets, hurling great chunks of earth and smoke into the scream-filled air with each impact of shot. Several fires raged within the city, the result of the occasional fireball that hurled over the battlements and plunged into the vulnerable townhouses and shops below. As the trio looked on, a swift corvette emerged from the interior of the Bay of Medes, cutting agilely through the water as it made its way towards the advancing galleon.

"Slow us down," ordered Lord Sirrion as he turned to face the ship's captain. "I'll handle this."

"Will they let us inside?" asked Gwen as she eyed the warship warily.

"Probably not, but I'll try to persuade them," replied Sirrion with a dour frown.

The Elf Lord separated from the two young women, walking boldly across the deck to wait for the patrol ship by the port railing. The two girls turned back to watch the battle, gasping slightly as a large, boiling, green fireball splashed against a cannon emplacement, destroying the weapon and igniting its powder supply. Sirrion argued with the warship captain for almost an hour as the battle for Antoch continued. As Sirrion threw up his hands in disgust and stomped away from the warship commander, a loud, reverberating clang emanated from the far side of the fortress city. Several plumes of fresh smoke rose into the air as explosions rocked the city's walls, followed by a torrent of panicked screams.

"Damn, the Lizardmen broke through the main gate," swore Sirrion as he rejoined his companions, glaring acidly at the burning city before him.

"I take it the port authority refused our request for docking," remarked Elita wryly.

"Yes, they're refusing all ships that enter the Bay," replied Sirrion tersely.

"Now what?" asked Gwen.

"I may be able to Teleport us inside the city's walls," suggested Elita.

"That's dangerous, isn't it? You've never been to Antoch before," retorted Sirrion.

"I can see much of the city from here. I can do a direct-sight Teleport with a good degree of safety," said Elita.

"We don't have much choice, Sirrion," replied Gwen nervously. "The Lizardmen may beat us to the Staff of Jade as it is."

"Alright, let's try it," agreed Sirrion as he clutched the pommel of his sword tensely.

"Take my hands," commanded Elita while she extended her palms toward her companions. As the Elves complied, the mage girl began chanting Words of Power, invoking the world's mana to energize her magick. With the speed of thought, a vortex of blue energy engulfed the trio, transporting them through Chaos until they re-emerged within a rubble-choked avenue. As the companions attempted to gain their bearings, a squad of Saurus charged into the street, focusing their cold, reptilian eyes on the adventurers.

"Go! I'll take care of these lizards!" shouted Elita as she turned to face the slowly advancing group of warriors.

"We'll stay and help!" argued Gwen as Sirrion drew his silver blade and crouched into a fighting stance.

"You have to reach the Staff of Jade before the Slann do. Hurry!" urged Elita before she hurled a cluster of Mana Bolts into the reptilian mob, killing two Saurus who fell with smoking holes within their scaly chests.

Biting her lower lip, Gwen smacked Sirrion's arm, then began sprinting down the opposite end of the street. Elita chanted loudly, her voice smooth and clear as she threw a bright, red fireball into the Saurus infantry, the explosion sending wet chunks of lizard flesh splashing against the walls of nearby buildings. The Saurus roared with pain and rage, hurling several spears at Elita that bounced harmlessly against a Shield that she quickly summoned for her defense. A Skink at the back of the war band reached into one of his pouches, withdrawing a yellow egg that he threw over the heads of the Saurus towards the dangerous female mammal. The egg shattered against Elita's Shield, releasing a thick, heavy cloud of yellow gas that engulfed the mage girl where she stood.

Elita coughed loudly, hacking within the churning fog as a Saurus twirled bolos over his head and flung them at her. With her concentration gone, her Shield failed as the bolos flew towards her, wrapping tightly around her arms, pinning her limbs against her sides. The remaining Saurus charged forward, seizing Elita's bound body and carrying her out of the fog into the clear air. The purple-haired girl continued to cough as the yellow vapors seared her lungs, making it very difficult for her to breathe. The Saurus slammed her body onto the hard, cobbled street, the impact sending waves of pain across her back and shoulders.

"What we do with warm-blood?" snarled a Saurus.

"Tear her flesh, feast on her meat," drooled a second.

"No, sense magick in her," hissed the Skink who threw the gas bomb as he ducked under the towering Saurian warriors and moved close to examine the struggling sorceress.

"Let me go!" shouted Elita as she writhed in the tight confines of the bolo bonds.

"Must gag witch before she cast nasty magick," muttered the Skink as he reached into another pouch, then retracted a metal-studded, leather mouth gag which he fastened firmly across Elita's protesting mouth.

"Warm-blood is pretty," growled the Saurus leader as he ran a claw up her left thigh.

"We no kill witch, take her to Slann masters," ordered the Skink firmly.

"Play with warm-blood first," retorted the large, muscular Saurus while he tore off Elita's robes, revealing her bare breasts and panties.

"If you must," replied the Skink with exasperation as he backed away, allowing two more burly Saurus to push forward and surround the panicked mage girl. Elita screamed into her tight gag as the Saurus leader knelt down on the street, prying her legs apart before he reached forward with a sharp claw and shredded her white panties. All of the Saurus crowded around Elita's prone body, their tongues probing the air, tasting the scent of her fear as she watched the leader lean forward to ravish her pussy. The two Saurus at her sides knelt down next to her, then sliced the bolo bonds from her arms.

Before she could use her freedom, the reptiles grabbed her wrists and extended her arms upwards, pinning them to the cold stone. The two Saurus hissed with pleasure as they ran their agile tongues over her heaving tits, coating her pale flesh with warm saliva as they caressed her melons, then tickled her nipples until they were erect with arousal. The Saurus leader slid his tongue across the folds of her labia, tasting the warm, moist flesh of her cunt, then nuzzling inside her vagina with his snout. Elita moaned weakly, her arms and legs held down by irresistibly strong arms as she struggled futilely against her assailants. The leader continued his pussy licking, his slurps loud and obscene as he ran his rough tongue up and down her quivering slit. The two lizards licking her breasts hungered for more, fastening their fanged mouths over her ripe tits, sucking lewdly on her sweet flesh until Elita was glistening with sweat.

"Hold her up," ordered the Saurus leader as he rose to his feet, unfastening his loincloth to reveal a huge, scaly cock.

The two reptiles sucking Elita's tits pulled away, leaving the girl's naked torso drenched in sticky saliva. They grabbed the naked girl's arms, holding them behind her back as they suspended her in the air for their lord. The leader moved back in-between Elita's slim legs, rubbing the head of his tool across her wet cunt. As the young sorceress watched with wide, helpless eyes, the leader shoved his cock into her tight pussy, ramming his cold meat deep into her belly, filling her fuckhole with a thick, abrasive, scaly probe. Elita moaned loudly into her gag as the Saurus began pumping in and out of her vagina, his crotch thumping against hers as he thrust his pole into her womb. As Elita's thrown back head bobbed with each erotic thrust, the leader cupped her firm ass, scratching her delicate skin, leaving small, bloody tracks across the curvature of her buttocks.

A fourth Saurus, overcome with lust from watching his leader fuck the warm-blood female, pushed away from the drooling throng and moved to stand near Elita's dangling head. Removing his loincloth, the lizard warrior tore away the mage girl's gag, then stuffed her mouth with his engorged cock. Elita groaned as she felt the reptile's tool slide deep into her throat, making her gag as wet fluid dripped from the tip of his member. The mage girl lay helplessly in the grip of the Lizardmen as the leader pumped her cunt and a warrior fucked her mouth with his member. The reptiles violated Elita's orifices for a score of minutes, then orgasmed with loud roars, releasing floods of excretion into her vagina and mouth, so much that the sticky fluid overflowed to stain her inner thighs and face.

"Do not damage!" admonished the Skink as the sated Saurus rested Elita's nude body on the street. Moving quickly, the little reptile re-fastened the mouth gag, then turned the limp girl onto her stomach so that he could place her arms behind her back and lash her wrists together with a strip of dry leather.

"We join Masters," ordered the Skink before he helped Elita to her feet, then pushed her ahead of the squad, green goo dripping from her chin onto her naked tits.

Sirrion and Gwen moved quickly and silently, as only Elves can do, while they made their way to the main castle of Antoch. The main streets were choked with fleeing soldiers and civilians, people fleeing the advancing Lizardmen horde that marched relentlessly towards the central keep. Sirrion cloaked the two of them with a simple Misdirection spell, allowing them to pass virtually unmolested through a maze of side streets and garbage-filled alleys. As the afternoon wore on, the duo finally reached the west wall of the castle, the area abandoned as the remaining defenders prepared to make a last stand at the keep's main gate.

"Grab on," said Sirrion as he began chanting the words of Levitation.

The slim Elf girl wrapped her arms around Sirrion's waist, squeezing him affectionately before they both rose into the air, sailing up the surface of the smooth stone fortification, then agilely climbing over the battlements onto a small ledge.

"Stay alert," cautioned Sirrion as he held his blade lightly, crouching low as he traversed the length of the wall until he reached a staircase descending to a courtyard. Gwen followed her Elven lover, her own short sword held ready as Sirrion crossed the open area, then found a service entrance into the main castle. Placing a pointed ear on the wooden portal, Sirrion frowned with concentration, then motioned to Gwen.

"There are guards beyond this door. I shall try to negate them with magick, but be ready to use blades if necessary."

"I understand," nodded Gwen.

Mumbling to himself, Sirrion prepared a spell, then flung the door open swiftly. Four men-at-arms sat at a table, drinking wine and whispering darkly about the approaching reptilian army. Flinging out his right hand, Sirrion invoked his spell, sending a wave of glittering, golden light into the astonished guards. Three of the men fell unconscious onto the table, but one resisted the Elven magick, drawing a sword and charging the intruder. Sirrion quickly switched his blade from left to right hand, then met the guard's initial lunges and swipes. The Elf Lord pushed the guard back, advancing further into the chamber and allowing Gwen room to enter. The Elf girl crouched low, sliding forward to stab the soldier lightly in the side. As the guard grimaced with pain and turned to slash Gwen, Sirrion lunged with the pommel of his sword, smashing the soldier's face and hurling him senseless to the floor.

"Thanks," smiled Sirrion as he walked over the sleeping guards and carefully opened a door leading into an empty passageway. Moving stealthily, the Elves traveled deep into the castle's interior, until they found two tall, double doors guarded by two men in ornate platemail.

"This will be the main audience hall. Lord Pierre d' Antoch should be inside with the Staff of Jade. The Staff is a symbol of his authority so he won't be without it at a desperate time like this. Stay close," said Sirrion before he charged forward. The guards discovered Sirrion quickly, unsheathing blades just as the Elf cast a Light spell at their heads. The orb of light flared brightly, blinding both men as Sirrion smacked one guard with the flat of his blade, knocking the man to the floor. Gwen kicked the second guard in the crotch, then performed a sweep kick to his face, rendering him unconscious as well. Panting softly with a pleased grin on her face, Gwen followed Sirrion while he pushed one of the double doors open, then slowly walked inside.

The audience hall was vast, held up by impressive marble pillars that ran the length of the banner-adorned chamber. Lord Pierre sat on a large, padded, stone throne, the Staff of Jade held tightly in his right hand.

"Who are you?" asked the handsome warrior lord, regarding the two Elves coldly.

"My name is Lord Sirrion of Ulthuan, and this is the Lady Gwen, of Earth," replied Sirrion with a low bow.

"Earth? I have not heard of this realm. Where is it?" inquired the lord with a tilt of his head.

"It's hard to explain, my lord," replied Gwen. "Just trust me when I say it is very far away."

"You should go there now, the Lizardmen filth have breeched my walls and will soon come here to loot and slay. I grant you leave to go," declared Pierre with a tilt of the Staff.

"We will leave, my lord," said Sirrion. "But first we require that you give us the Staff of Jade."

"The Staff? It is mine. I took it from the savage lands of the west," retorted Pierre as he held the object vice-like with both hands.

"Not exactly accurate, Lord Pierre," argued Sirrion. "The Staff belongs to the Slann, and they have come to reclaim it. That artifact is vital to their effort to seal the Chaos Gate."

"Seal the Chaos Gate? That is impossible. The reptilian scum are not advanced enough to wield such powerful magick. You lie," snarled Pierre.

"I do not. You must give me the Staff. If you do, I can halt this attack and save your people," replied Sirrion.

"Never. I shall never yield to reptilian spawn or Elvish rabble such as you," swore Pierre as he rose to his feet, the Staff slowly glowing with eldritch life. "Guards! Kill these intruders!"

Six guards in full plate emerged from niches in the hall's sides, drawing enchanted blades with easy skill. Sirrion re-drew his own sword, then moved close to Gwen, who positioned herself to guard his flank. The soldiers charged with blood-thirsty screams, slashing down with their rune-inscribed blades which were knocked aside by quick parries. Gwen impaled a guard with a swift lunge, then blocked a second slash before launching a series of blows of her own. Sirrion kicked one of his attackers in the leg, then sliced up with his sword, catching the bent over soldier in the neck. Blood splattered on armor and on the stone floor as the two Elves held off the guards, Sirrion dispatching another soldier, then pushing his last foe into one of Gwen's, allowing her an opportunity to stab another in the belly below his breastplate. With one enemy apiece, Sirrion held his left hand open before the guards, the palm spewing a stream of smoke that briefly blinded the men. The Elves moved with snakelike grace, slashing open both guards' throats and sending them choking to the blood-drenched floor.

"This cannot be!" said Pierre as he stood upon the dais of his throne, the Staff burning with jade fire as its true masters drew closer.

Sirrion and Gwen cleaned their blades upon the surcoats of their fallen opponents, then walked forward until they stood at the foot of the throne's dais.

"One last time, give me the Staff," ordered Sirrion in a frosty tone.

"No! I will not!" shouted Pierre as he staggered back, clutching the Staff to his chest like a mother with her child.

Before Sirrion could ascend the dais, four arrows sprouted in Pierre's chest, blood staining his pure, white surcoat as he fell limply into his throne chair. The Elves spun around, surprised as several Skink archers spread out into the chamber, their bows aimed at the duo as huge Saurus pounded into the room with sharp obsidian swords and plumed headgear. Sirrion quickly climbed the short staircase to the throne, pulling the glowing Staff from the clenched, dead fingers of Lord Pierre d' Antoch. The Skinks pulled back their bowstrings, preparing to pincushion Sirrion with a score of deadly shafts.

"Halt!" croaked a deep, reverberating voice as a quartet of Saurus bearers carried an ornate palanquin into the long hall. A fat, squat, frog-like creature sat upon the palanquin, his slimy head adorned with colorful feathers and gold jewelry. Two Saurus walked behind the bearers, fanning the obese toad with wide-bladed fronds. As more and more Lizardmen filed into the room, Gwen gasped as she discovered Elita being led into the chamber bound and naked, a leash fastened to a collar around her neck. The leash was held by a short Skink who stayed close to the Slann and his entourage.

"Give me Staff," croaked the Slann impatiently.

"First we barter," replied Sirrion as he stood upon the throne, Gwen standing next to him as Skink archers ringed the base of the dais.

"Give Staff, we do not kill," retorted the Slann with a wave of his fat hand.

"No. I want you to open a Portal. My friend desires to return to her home world, Earth," said Sirrion as he pointed to the blonde Elf girl.

"Return Staff. Must have it to close Chaos Gate. If we fail, whole world will die," replied the Slann.

"Nevertheless, you will open a Portal for her, or I break the Staff right now," said Sirrion as he positioned the artifact lengthwise and moved his right knee beneath it.

The Skink archers drew their bows back even more, arrowheads glinting in candlelight as Saurus warriors cocked spears back in their claws. The Slann smiled darkly, amusement shining in its small, black eyes.

"Give Staff. We open Portal to send warm-blood home," agreed the Slann with a short nod.

Nodding in return, Sirrion descended the dais, Gwen very close behind, then he crossed the warrior-filled hall until he stood before the sitting Slann. The Elf Lord extended the Staff forward, raising it until the Slann grasped it in its pudgy hand and caressed the Jade artifact reverently. Emitting a series of harsh croaks, the Slann invoked the Staff's magick, creating an expanding sphere of green light that engulfed the inhabitants of the room and whisked them across the face of the planet.

Ilse stood at the mouth of an alley, her green hair tied into two cute braids that dangled behind her small shoulders. Townsmen walked past the young girl, some glancing at her, admiring her youthful beauty and glowing innocence. A muscled sailor with a chin of dark stubble and alcohol-laced breath approached the girl, looming over her as he stared at her with lust-filled eyes.

"What'cha doing here, little girl? It's dangerous for pretty little birds like you to stay in this part of Marienburg."

"I'm looking for a big, strong man like you to fuck my brains out," replied Ilse brazenly.

The sailor blinked at Ilse's words, surprise plain on his rough features. Then, the man smiled slowly, his eyes taking on a dangerous glint as he looked the girl over, past her tight leggings, loose, red blouse, and hard, shiny, black boots.

"You looking for a good fuck, I'll give you one, little girl," slurred the sailor before he grasped Ilse's thin arm painfully, then dragged her into the dark, steamy alleyway behind her.

"You scream, I cut your throat open," hissed the sailor as he tore open Ilse's blouse, releasing her small, growing breasts to the humid air. He crudely fondled and grasped Ilse's tits as he lavished sloppy kisses over her beautiful face and mouth. Ilse tried to turn her head away, but the sailor forced his affections on her, grasping her chin with his hand, then pressing his wine-stained lips against her own full, red lips.

"Oh, you're making me so horny," moaned Ilse as she rubbed her assailant's crotch with her small, right hand.

"You're unbelievable, bitch," gasped the sailor as he nuzzled Ilse's rich, sweetly-scented hair, then licked her left cheek and bare neck.

The aroused sailor spun Ilse around, then pushed her against the wall of a nearby building, crushing her face and breasts against it before he reached down and pulled down her leggings. Drooling with lust, the sailor fondled Ilse's young, firm ass, running his fingers up her crack, then slapping her bare flesh until it burned cherry-red.

"Oh, yeah! That feels so good!" groaned Ilse as she ran her pink tongue across her red lips, her fangs beginning to extend as the drunken sailor pawed her.

"Yeah? This will feel even better, slut!" replied the man as he pried Ilse's bare legs apart, then released his hardened cock to caress her naked ass.

"Oooo, yes! Push your meat into my tight, little hole," begged Ilse while her eyes took on a hot, golden sheen.

"Take it, whore!" slobbered the sailor as he thrust his cock into the young girl's shaved pussy, the engorged rod punching deep into her grasping vagina. Ilse moaned with pleasure as the burly, drunk man fucked her cunt, his large cock spreading her hole painfully apart as he pumped his crotch lewdly against her round ass.

"Shit, your pussy feels good," groaned the sailor as he shoved his tool into the horny girl's slit, filling her small, flat belly with his pillar of manmeat.

"Harder! Fuck me harder!" demanded Ilse as she thrust out her buttocks, forcing the man's cock even deeper into her empty womb. The sailor grabbed Ilse's braids, holding them like reins as he rode the short, pretty, little filly before him. He crushed Ilse against the wall, his own hands pressed against the stone as he rammed his manhood again and again into the young girl's ravenous cunt. With a muffled gasp, the sailor shot his load into Ilse's belly, filling her void with his trickle of seed. As he pulled out of the girl's wet pussy, Ilse turned around to face him, her fangs bared and her eyes gleaming like a wolf's.

"You were so good," whispered Ilse huskily before she launched herself upon her filthy lover, tearing his throat open before burying her face in the wound and gorging herself on the sailor's hot blood.

"Crude, but acceptable," remarked the vampire lord as he watched Ilse fly up from the alley and join him on the roof of one of the nearby buildings.

"Thank you, master," acknowledged Ilse as she wiped blood from her mouth and chin.

"It's time for us to separate. Your prey is in the west, while mine travels north," said the vampire lord coolly.

"I shall miss you, Master LaCroix," replied Ilse with tears glistening in her wide eyes. "I won't fail you."

"I know you won't. You have the heart of a hunter within your breast. Always stay true to your nature, and you shall never know defeat or pain," advised LaCroix with a tinge of bitterness.

"I will," whispered Ilse before she fluttered up to the vampire lord's face and kissed him tenderly on the lips. "Good-bye."

As LaCroix watched, the young vampire girl shot away into the clear night, heading west towards the foreign land of Lustria.

"And now the final act begins," whispered Lacroix before he also took to the air, to the north, to the Chaos Gate.

====

Emperor Thomas surveyed the vast array of men and weaponry surging below him as his griffin mount glided on a strong, arctic breeze. The cold wind seared Thomas' flesh, but he felt nothing but pride and confidence as he gazed at the desolation of the Realm of Chaos. A few Chaos Spawn had harried the flanks of the huge Imperial Army, but few of his men had died as they repelled their mutated attackers. Far to the north, along the horizon, the sickly glow of the Chaos Gate could be seen. A dome of pulsing vomit-green light called to Thomas, dared him to come closer. Smiling ferally, the Emperor flew to the head of the marching columns, leading the way for his soldiers as they advanced inexorably towards their target.

The day wore on, and the sun began growing dimmer as it descended behind a range of mountains to the west. Marching through a narrow valley, the Imperial Army entered a vast, bowel-shaped clearing, the ground scoured clean of vegetation, the dirt dry and sterile as it blew in great waves across the depression. At the very center of the bowel stood the Chaos Gate, a great rectangle of warped space that spewed clouds of mutating magick. Thomas landed his griffin at the foot of the Gate, his body protected from the Chaos Stuff by a powerful charm created by the Imperial War Wizards. All of the soldiers of the Army wore similar charms, making them immune to the distorting effects of Chaos. Thomas stood before the Gate as his army spread out behind him, protecting his rear and flanks as he withdrew the Chaos Orb from an enchanted silk pouch tied to his weapon belt.

Thunder shook the bowel valley as Thomas began intoning the words of Closure. Thick, black clouds boiled from behind the Gate, transforming the afternoon into night while the Emperor continued his ritual. As darkness covered the area, Rachel emerged from her black-draped coach, her head and body covered with a rich, black cloak and hood as she began walking towards her human lover.

In a single moment, the roaring wind died, plunging the valley into complete silence before legions of Chaos Spawn appeared along the bowel's rim and began charging down the slopes towards the surprised Imperial troops. Thomas glanced to his right, momentarily halting his invocation as he caught glimpses of Chaos Knights and Beastmen smashing against his troops and hacking a swath of death in his direction. Licking his dry lips, Thomas resumed his chanting, unconsciously hastening the speed of his recitation as the forces of Chaos crushed the flanks of his once-impressive army.

Gwen, Sirrion and Elita re-appeared at the summit of a tall pyramid-shaped structure. Gwen rushed to Elita's side, glaring at her Skink handler until the small lizard unfastened the naked girl's collar and rushed to join his Slann master. The Elf girl reached into her pack, unfurling a plain, green dress that Elita quickly snatched and draped over her nudity. The Slann and his escorts entered a temple building, descending down shaded steps into the deeper recesses of the pyramid.

"We better keep up with them," suggested Sirrion as he waited for his two female companions to rejoin him.

Gwen supported Elita as the duo walked back to the Elf Lord, then followed him as he entered the temple building and climbed down a gently sloping staircase into the cool interior of the Slann habitation. Walking slowly so that Elita could keep up, Sirrion and Gwen emerged into a wide, square-shaped chamber, pillars adorning the edges and engraved with images of mighty reptiles and Slann wizards. The Saurus bearers rested the Slann's palanquin on a special dais, while the two fan bearers took up flanking positions and resumed their gentle waving. A blue-skinned Skink with an ornate headdress rushed before the Slann, bowing humbly before the fat frog until the mage motioned him to rise.

"Other Slann masters ready. They say that Chaos Gate is about to expand, must use Staff quickly!" gibbered the Skink nervously.

"Organize guards. Must not be disturbed," croaked the Slann mage as he held the Staff of Jade high with both hands, the artifact glowing warmly with green light. The blue Skink rushed to herd the Saurus soldiers into guard positions as the companions stood nearby, waiting as the Slann began chanting in the strangely beautiful language of the Old Ones.

"Well, I guess that this is good-bye," said Gwen before she hugged Sirrion tightly, then turned to embrace a silent Elita. "I'll miss you both."

"Safe journey," wished Sirrion as he smiled gently at his former lover. "Don't forget about us."

"Never," retorted Gwen with a smile of her own. "I don't think that I will ever forget my time here."

"How touching. It warms the heart to see such noble emotion," observed John as he emerged from the shadows, his black robes stained with blood and tattered from the humid weather. "How about a kiss for your friend, John?"

"Bastard!" shouted Gwen as she drew her short sword, her blue eyes smoldering with hate.

Elita slowly backed away from John and her friends, her eyes panicked and furtive as she sought shelter among the hissing Lizardmen. Saurus guards pounded forward, brandishing obsidian swords and long spears as they approached the motionless liche. Without effort, John extended his left hand, spewing a purple lightning bolt that exploded amidst the Saurus and tore their bodies to ribbons. Skink archers fired short bows at the Undead, but John blocked their shafts easily with a quick Shield spell.

"You weren't going to leave me, were you?" admonished John while he gave a come hither gesture to the snarling Elf girl. Bands of black light burst from the shadows of the chamber, wrapping around Gwen's arms and legs, pulling her inexorably towards the grinning liche.

"Gwen!" shouted Sirrion as he charged forward with his sword, slicing futilely at the invulnerable black strands that turned to vapor with each stroke, but retained their tight grip on the struggling Elf girl.

"Love is a beautiful thing. Not!" chuckled John as he released a stream of Mana Bolts at Sirrion, smashing the Elf Lord backwards until he hit the ground and lay groaning in pain.

"I can't let you leave, you just got here," hissed John as he wrapped a robe-garbed arm around Gwen's slim waist, inhaling her sweet, female scent before he Teleported them both out of the Casting chamber.

"Where did they go?" gasped Sirrion as he staggered weakly to his feet, his chest smoking from the impacts of the Bolts.

"Not far. Undead not have time to plot long distance," burped the Slann.

"Can you take me to him?" asked the Elf Lord while he stumbled to where the mage-priest sat.

"Yes. But you not survive alone. Must have help," observed the Slann sagely.

"Elita, c'mon," urged Sirrion with a weak wave.

"No. I can't. He came to me in my dreams, he did things to me. Awful things," whispered Elita as she pressed her back to the cool stone of the wall, her arms wrapped around her stomach.

"I need you, Elita. Gwen needs you," begged Sirrion.

The Slann and the other Lizardmen turned to regard the mage girl, the Staff of Jade warm and supportive with its light.

"I'll go," breathed Elita before she slowly moved to Sirrion's side, her eyes downcast as her hands clenched tightly together.

"I prepare Portal for Elf girl while you search for her," said the Slann as he waved the Staff before the two companions. "Do not take long."

With a painful flash of green light, Elita and Sirrion disappeared from the dim chamber, re-appearing in a bright, moist jungle.

"I can sense John. He took Gwen north," reported Elita as she pointed into the writhing foliage.

"Let's go," grimaced Sirrion before he drew his blade and plunged into the vegetation.

"Welcome to my home," teased John as he pushed Gwen into a dank, dark, underground chamber. The walls were rough, cut into the soft earth and held in place by magick. The stench of death and decay was strong in the room, the smell of rotting meat coy and sickening.

"I got tired of being rained on, and I wanted a place where I could indulge myself without interruption as I waited for you to finally get here," said the liche before he twitched his decayed fingers, manipulating the Shadow Bonds around Gwen's limbs, forcing her arms above her head where leather wrist restraints slid down and wrapped around her proffered hands. Chains chimed musically as they ascended into the dark depths of the ceiling, dangling Gwen into the air until only the tips of her booted toes touched the soft ground. The Elf girl grimaced with pain as the leather bonds bit into her flesh, cutting her skin until trickles of blood began dripping down her bare arms. Trying to take her mind off the pain, Gwen looked around the room, gasping loudly as she beheld many female corpses hanging from similar bonds, their flesh gray and oozing as it slowly fell from their bones.

"As you can see, I've been very busy," remarked John while he moved behind the corpse of a red-haired amazon, fingering the few remaining strands of the body's hair as he licked a muscle-exposed cheek. "But I'm glad that you've finally arrived, now I can finish this and return to the Old World. Lord Nagash should almost be ready to return by now, and he will reward me for finally catching you and executing your demise."

"Why can't you just let me go home?" sobbed Gwen as bright tears dripped down her pale cheeks. "Haven't you killed enough? You murdered Amy, let her get butchered by that freak Nagash."

"That was her own fault. She should have resisted the temptations of the Crown of Sorcery," retorted John as he indicated the iron crown resting on his gray-skinned brow.

"You brought us here, that means you're responsible for what happened to her!" shouted Gwen.

"See if I shed any tears for the bitch," smiled John maliciously. "Now, I better take care of you before your nice friends drop by and spoil everything."

Gwen craned her head to see what John was doing behind her, her arms burning with pain as they hung above her blonde head. The liche chanted softly, dissolving Gwen's armor, which poured smoothly into a puddle under her boots. The Undead wrapped his thin arms around the Elf girl's slim waist, pressing his bony body against Gwen's warm form as he undid her weapon belt and let it fall loudly to the ground.

"Get away from me!" screamed Gwen as she fought John's cold embrace, the chains above her tinkling rhythmically.

The liche laughed to himself as he released Gwen, moving to a long, wooden table adorned with many instruments of torture.

"I had to make these myself by hand. It was very rewarding," commented John as he grabbed a barbed wire whip, then snapped it experimentally across Gwen's right cheek, drawing a thin line of blood across her skin. The Elf girl yelped in pain and surprise, exciting John even more before he slashed his weapon across her back, ripping her undershirt and creating a deep furrow in her smooth back. Gwen screamed again, this time in agony, as the liche whipped her with the sharp, biting, barbed wire, the metal slicing her flesh like a molten knife. Blood gushed from her wounds, staining her tunic and leggings a deep scarlet as John applied lashes to the backs of her legs and all over her back. The Elf girl's shouts grew weaker as she lost blood, her arms growing limp as she dangled helplessly in her tight, leather wrist bonds. John stumbled towards Gwen in his eagerness, the scent of her hot blood intoxicating to his Undead senses as he leaned down to lick along the length of one of her back wounds, the fluid salty and rich with the girl's life force.

"I shall take every pleasure from your body before you die," promised John as he removed the blood-splattered remains of her tunic and leggings, baring her torn, naked flesh to the hot, moist air.

"Please...stop," begged Gwen as her head lolled forward limply, her long, golden hair plastered with sweat and air moisture as the liche slid his clawed hands across her naked flesh, caressing her scratched buttocks and full, ripe tits.

"You love this, they all did," whispered John into the Elf girl's pointed ear before he bit it playfully, savoring the sweet taste of her living flesh. "You want it from behind, don't you?"

"No. Please, don't fuck me," moaned Gwen as the liche walked behind her, grasping her round ass cheeks before he rubbed his crotch obscenely against them. Gwen sobbed pathetically, her eyes flooding with fresh tears as John pulled his robes away from his hardened, throbbing cock.

"Feel free to scream and struggle as much as you like," offered John before he shoved his rotting penis into the Elf girl's tight cunt. Gwen screamed with humiliation and helplessness as the liche pushed his tool into her narrow vagina, his claws digging into the tender flesh of her hips as he pressed his crotch against her firm buttocks.

"Ughh, you're so wet and tight," groaned John as he pumped in and out of Gwen's pussy, his shaft piercing deep into her empty belly as she hung from her wrist manacles, her breasts jiggling with each erotic thrust of the Undead's cock. Gwen's mouth hung open, her chin dripping with drool as she gasped with each violation of her slit. The Elf girl's legs dangled limply in the air, blood drying against her pure, white skin as John fucked her cunt, each pump sliding deeper into her warm womb. John slid his clawed hands into Gwen's blonde hair, closing his fingers and pulling painfully on her golden mane, forcing her head up as he rammed his cock into her pussy, filling her vagina with his decayed meat until cum dripped from her outspread snatch.

John screwed Gwen for scores of minutes, his stamina inexhaustible as his Undead body entered her cunt over and over, an unending orgy of lustful torment. The Elf girl closed her eyes, her breath coming in loud wheezes as her bound form was pushed beyond tolerance. Waves of unwanted sexual ecstasy smashed into Gwen's brain, her naked body helpless as it orgasmed again and again under the liche's lewd assault. Female fluid and green, sticky cum gushed from Gwen's pussy, staining her inner thighs until the skin was obscured by overlapping streams of excreted fluid. The Elf girl's soft moans reverberated like huge bells within the dark room, the only other sound the obscene smack of Undead flesh against Gwen's ass as John invaded her slit with his ever-engorged cock.

Suddenly, John pulled out of the nearly unconscious girl's pussy. He spun around to see Sirrion and Elita enter his sanctum, the sorceress holding a golden globe of light in her left hand.

"Damn. I almost fucked the slut into unconsciousness," swore John before he cast a Lightning Bolt at the two intruders.

The Elf Lord and mage girl separated, avoiding the Lightning Bolt as it smashed into the corridor behind them, bringing down a torrent of loose earth. Elita cast a salvo of Mana Bolts, forcing John to erect a Shield in order to block the projectiles. Sirrion advanced with his sword, making a wide slash that ripped John's robe and tore a chunk of rotted flesh from his torso.

"Lucky hit, Elf bastard," spat John before he cast Web at his attacker, the glowing strands passing over Sirrion's head as the Elf dodged the spell attack. The liche screamed in pain as a cloud of ice shards tore into him, shredding his clothing and ripping great wounds into his decayed body. Sirrion took advantage of the opening, rushing forward with his sword to slice a deep rent down John's torso, then up to tear an ugly wound across John's evil face. The Crown of Sorcery caught on the edge of Sirrion's sword, ripping away from John's scalp and falling with a clatter into a black corner of the room.

John howled with fury and pain as his body began to decompose at an accelerated rate. Dead flesh dried up to dust, then fell in a great cloud amidst a pile of the liche's limp bones. Elita ran quickly to Gwen's side, releasing the Elf girl's wrists, then gently lowering the senseless girl to the floor. Examining Gwen's wounds quickly, Elita cast her most powerful healing spell, then wrapped the pale, naked girl in a soft, clean blanket from her pack.

"We have to hurry," urged Sirrion as he took Gwen's body from Elita's care, then carried the unconscious Elf maiden out into the warm, bright sunlight. When Elita re-joined Sirrion on the surface, a green sphere engulfed them, Teleporting them back to the Slann casting chamber.

The large chamber was awash with light. A yawning Portal hung within the room, created by the Staff of Jade, which throbbed with magick under the Slann's direction. With a brush of a fingertip, Elita brought Gwen back to consciousness, then helped Sirrion set the bleary-eyed Elf girl onto her feet.

"Elf girl must enter Portal, now," croaked the Slann calmly.

"Good-bye," said Sirrion before he gave Gwen a passionate kiss on the mouth.

"Bye," whispered Gwen weakly before she staggered forward, stumbling several times before she practically fell into the Portal, devoured by a maw of magick that would hurl her back to her own time, to her own world.

Human screams echoed across the bowel valley as the servants of Chaos slaughtered the soldiers of the Empire, destroying cannons with magick and butchering men with wickedly sharp Chaos Blades. Thomas continued his spell work, the Orb pulsing in his gloved hands as it absorbed the raw stuff of Chaos that poured from the Gate. Rachel stood nearby, her face impassive as thousands of men died to protect her lord during his great work.

Suddenly, Rachel turned to see LaCroix descend from the clouds, his eyes burning gold as he bared his fangs at the woman who had slain him. The raven-haired vampiress readied her claws, her own fangs bared as she hissed dangerously at her former master. LaCroix slammed into Rachel, his hands grasping the lithe woman's wrists as he pressed her body painfully into the hard ground. Rachel writhed desperately, her fangs lashing out to slice LaCroix's face and neck. The vampire lord slammed his head into Rachel's then tore into her exposed throat as she grew limp with dizziness. Rachel screamed as LaCroix buried his face in her neck wound, his mouth slurping loudly as he drank her hot lifeblood hungrily. Slowly Rachel's struggles grew weaker as LaCroix drank all of her blood, her body becoming bone-thin and dry as every drop of fluid was drained from her. The vampire lord stood up, grabbed a nearby discarded spear, snapped off the tip, then held the weapon over Rachel's left breast as the vampiress' ravaged body regenerated with the power of the Carstein Ring.

LaCroix thrust the stake into Rachel's shriveled breast, the vampiress releasing one final scream as her soul was sucked down to Hell. The vampire lord retook his Ring, sliding it onto a finger of his right hand, then he looked up to regard Emperor Thomas, who finally finished the spell that would activate the Chaos Orb.

The Orb flared with eye-blinding radiance as it absorbed more and more Chaos magick. Thomas' hands began to burn even with the protection of his leather gloves. The Emperor closed his eyes as the Chaos Gate grew smaller, its ethereal substance feeding the greedy hunger of the Orb. Thomas' whole body glowed with god-like power as the Gate grew smaller and smaller. Chaos Spawn and Imperial soldiers stopped their fighting and looked down to witness the Emperor's triumph, the Closure of the Chaos Gate. Thomas laughed maniacally, his claims to godhood sustained by the raw power of Chaos that flowed richly within his veins. As the Chaos Gate closed to a tiny pinhole, the Orb flared again, then shattered in an ear-popping explosion. LaCroix flew away from the blast zone as Thomas screamed in agony, his flesh melting like hot wax as Chaos magick consumed him, ripping his very soul to shreds, then sending the shards hurling into the endless void of Chaos space.

====

Ilse walked slowly into the dark, underground hole, her vampire sight easily negating the darkness as she searched for her prey. The young girl stopped short as she discovered John's remains, a mere pile of bones and ash. Ilse squinted her eyes in frustration, hot tears trickling down her cheeks as she mourned her lost chance for revenge. Sobbing quietly, Ilse looked up, into a shadowy corner of the room, where a barbed, iron crown sang seductively to her.

LaCroix strode arrogantly through the piles of corpses, watching with vague disinterest as a regiment of Reiksguard repelled the last of the Chaos Spawn and secured the valley for the Empire. Generals and Marshals stumbled around their tents in confusion, their will broken after witnessing the gruesome death of their Emperor.

"What will we do? What should we do?" demanded a marshal desperately as he focused on LaCroix, who seemed calm and commanding. "Can you tell us what do?"

LaCroix smiled coldly, his eyes bright with cruelty and promise.

"Yes, I think that I can bring some order to this chaos."

Elita and Sirrion sat at the stern of a small sailing craft, the white sail billowing in the breeze as the skiff surged east.

"Nice of the Lizardmen to give us this boat," commented Elita, her demeanor much improved after the death of John.

"Yes, and provisions as well," replied Sirrion as he handed the sorceress a handful of fruit and a mug of wine. "We should be well supplied until we encounter an Elvish patrol craft."

"Will it take long for them to find us?" asked Elita before she took a bite from a ripe banana.

"No. Once we get two days out to sea, they should detect us fairly quickly. The Elves patrol the western flank of Ulthuan very vigilantly," answered the Elf just before he sampled his own piece of fruit.

"I'm excited about seeing Ulthuan. Almost no non-Elf ever gets to go there."

"Yes, my people are very provincial, but with good reason. Our magick is coveted by the other races, they would do anything to steal it for their own greedy aims," replied Sirrion as he munched contently.

"Well, I just want to rest and enjoy the sites," said Elita with a happy grin as she leaned against the boat's rail, letting the cool, ocean breeze wash over her streaming, purple hair and caress her beautiful face with loving fingers.

~~~~~~