ELF CRUSADE

by PJ

---

Heinrich Kemmler, Lichemaster of the Undead, stood near the prow of the captured Bretonnian war galley, the strong sea air tugging at his long, dark, unkempt beard. The Lichemaster swung his head to look starboard, then to port, making sure that the Undead fleet remained in formation.

"We're approaching the eastern coast of Ulthuan, my lord," reported the wight captain standing behind Heinrich.

"Order all crews to assume battle-stations, the Elven Fleet may try to intercept us."

"It will be done," bowed the wight before departing.

"I will take the magic of the Elves, then I will return to the Old World to crush my enemies, as well as my 'Master' Nagash," smiled Heinrich.

"Can you make out those vessels?" called out the Elvish captain.

"They're not Elvish. I think they're Bretonnian," replied the lookout from the crow's nest.

"A human invasion fleet," muttered the captain, his sharply-angled face creased in a frown. "Signal the other ships! We're going to attack!"

"Aye, captain!" acknowledged the ship's wizard, staring into a palm-sized crystal orb.

Crewmen bustled across the Elvish warship's deck, preparing the ballista for battle.

As the Elvish and Undead fleets converged, a thick mist rolled in from the Shifting Isles, making it difficult to observe nearby vessels.

"Can you see them?" asked the captain.

"Aye. They're changing course to meet us," nodded the wizard.

The loud snapping of wood made the captain flinch. He leaned over the starboard rail, narrowing his almond-shaped eyes, barely able to see an Undead ballista bolt impaled deep in a nearby Elvish warship's port hull.

"Human warship making straight for us!" shouted one of the deck hands.

"Helm! Hard to port!" shouted the captain.

The helmsman spun the large wheel of the warship, water slapping against the hull as the lithe vessel turned.

"Port ballista! Fire!"

The hiss of firing bolts filled the air, four projectiles flying toward the advancing Undead ship. The bolts tore into the ship's bow, nearly ripping it away from the rest of the hull. Water rushed into the open hold of the Undead vessel, the craft began sinking inexorably into the hungry ocean.

The Elven crew cheered, but their joy was muted when an Undead bolt smashed into one of the masts, snapping it apart like a twig. The severed piece of wood fell into the ocean, taking one Elf screaming along with it.

"Reload!" roared the captain, ocean spray dripping from his face.

Heinrich snarled in rage as another Undead craft was swallowed by the mist-covered ocean. He summoned fire into his right hand, throwing the green fireball at one of the approaching Elf ships. The fireball blossomed across the warship's deck, sending Elves screaming into the chaotic sea.

"Captain! Order half the fleet to stay and fight the Elves! The rest of us will sail on to Ulthuan!"

"Yes, my lord!" called back the wight captain from the stern.

"You will not stop me!" spat Heinrich, his eyes smoldering while an Undead vessel was cut in half by a string of ballista bolts.

"I hate official functions," growled Sirrion, clumsily trying to close the clasp of his ceremonial cloak.

"This is a great honor," retorted Elita, stepping in front of the Elf lord to close the difficult silver clasp.

"I know," groaned Sirrion, placing his hands on Elita's slender hips.

Elita looked up into her consort's handsome face, she reached up to stroke his left cheek affectionately.

Sirrion gathered the young woman into his arms, kissing her deeply.

"You're trying to distract me!" accused Elita, laughing. "We better go or we'll be late!"

"Very well," sighed Sirrion, taking Elita's hand and leading her out of the bedroom.

"Mama! Take me!" cried out Lyonesse, small arms outstretched.

"We can't, you know that," said Elita, kneeling in front of her daughter.

"Please!" begged Lyonesse, making a long face.

"No. Now back to your room," ordered Elita, lightly spanking the young girl's bottom.

"Papa!"

"Listen to your mother," replied Sirrion sternly, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Lyonesse cursed softly in Elvish, stomping up the tower stairs back to her room. Sirrion arched a thin eyebrow at his consort, Elita pretended she hadn't heard the girl.

The couple left their tower home, walking down a mist-filled street towards the castle that loomed over Tor Yvresse.

"I hope Eltharion doesn't make me give a speech," murmured Sirrion.

"I'm sure you'll think of something inspiring to say," grinned Elita, glancing up at her consort.

"You're enjoying my discomfort far too much," growled Sirrion.

Elita laughed, hugging Sirrion around the waist.

Sirrion kissed Elita's shining purple hair before they began the ascent towards Eltharion's fortress home.

"Welcome, my friends," greeted Eltharion at the doorway to the huge ballroom. Sirrion and Elita bowed deeply, then allowed the Warden of Tor Yvresse to guide them into the immense chamber. Eltharion picked up two full glasses of wine from a nearby servant's tray, handing them to his guests.

"Thank you for coming," nodded Eltharion, grasping a glass of wine for himself while Sirrion and Elita sampled their drinks.

"Thank you for the honor you've given me," replied Sirrion, bowing his head briefly.

"You earned it. The campaign to drive the Dark Elves out of Yvresse was not an easy one. I couldn't have done better myself."

"My lord is too kind," smiled Sirrion.

"You have repaid me by bringing your beautiful wife to my humble gathering," countered Eltharion, taking Elita's left hand and kissing her knuckles lightly.

"My lord," nodded Elita, blushing deeply.

"Have you been to the Tower of Hoeth yet? Lord Sirrion tells me you are a sorceress of considerable talent."

"No, my lord," blushed Elita, this time in embarrassment. "The Loremasters will not allow a human to study Elvish magic."

"Wizards are a conservative lot. I'm sorry," offered the Elf lord.

"It's alright, my lord," smiled Elita. "I've had more time to admire your city, and to raise Lyonesse."

"How is your daughter?" inquired Eltharion.

"Her energy seems limitless. I think she taps directly into the Winds of Magic on some days," smiled Sirrion wanly.

"I see," nodded Eltharion, his eyes bright with a moment's amusement. "I must attend to the other guests, I hope you'll say a few words later."

"I would be honored," bowed Sirrion, only Elita catching his pained expression.

"Good," replied Eltharion, melding into the mass of chatting lords and ladies.

The dark ships slowly appeared out of the mist, sailing toward the coast of Yvresse. The heavy galleons groaned when they hit the beach, tilting from side to side as units of Undead soldiers splashed into the chill tide waters.

"Keep the men moving swiftly. We must reach the Tor before the Elves notice our landing," ordered Kemmler, the Skull Staff held firmly in his left hand.

"Yes, Master," nodded the wraith officer, leaving the Lichemaster to hurry the staggering zombies and skeletons along.

Lyonesse sat on her bed, playing with her Elven doll when a boom of thunder shook her bedroom. The small girl hopped to the floor and rushed to her bedroom window, eyes wide as she watched green fire bathe the eastern gates of the city.

"Mama!" sobbed Lyonesse, tears sliding down her soft, pale cheeks.

"My lord! We are under attack!" shouted a soldier from the ballroom entrance.

"Who?" demanded Eltharion, brushing past startled nobles.

"Undead, my lord! Legions!" gasped the young elf warrior, his eyes wide with fear.

"Sirrion!" called out Eltharion.

"I'll assemble my warriors at once and march to the east gate," said Sirrion calmly, following Eltharion's wake toward the ballroom exit.

"Sirrion! Lyonesse!" exclaimed Elita.

"Return home. Guard her well," said Sirrion, smiling encouragement before disappearing through the open double doors.

Elita raised her ornate white dress, pushing through the milling guests as quickly as she could.

The tower trembled like a living thing, making Lyonesse whimper from her hiding place in the far corner of the bedroom. She flinched when the front door shattered, dragging footsteps ascending the spiral stairwell. The little girl clutched her elf princess doll to her chest, gasping for breath while the footsteps came closer. The stench of rotting flesh made Lyonesse wrinkle her small nose, right before the bedroom door exploded, admitting a trio of drooling zombies.

Lyonesse screamed, pressing her back against the unyielding wall.

The zombies dragged themselves toward the elf girl, thin, flesh-torn arms outstretched.

"Hold!" commanded the wraith in the doorway, his body concealed in tattered black robes. "Do not harm her. Bring her along."

The zombies obeyed, groaning softly as they snatched the screaming, struggling girl and carried her out of the bedroom.

"No. Oh, no!" moaned Elita, walking through the shattered front door into the foyer of the tower. Gazing up in horror, the young woman ran up the stairs to Lyonesse's room, tears gleaming on her face when she burst into the bedroom and found her daughter missing.

Sirrion slashed up with his sword, shattering the torso of a skeleton warrior. The Elf lord advanced with his men, pushing the Undead infantry back toward the ruined east gate. Eltharion sailed over the battle on his war griffon, Stormwing, trading spell strikes with the wraiths positioned atop the east gate's battlements. The Talisman of Hoeth glowed with bright, white light as Eltharion threw a sizzling red fireball above the gate. The sphere of flame exploded, tossing several wraiths like dolls into the smoke-filled air. Eltharion followed up his spell with a vicious dive, the rune-inscribed Fangsword burning with blue flame as he hacked into the remaining wraiths, reducing them to clouds of acrid vapor.

"Advance to the gate!" shouted Sirrion, urging the elf warriors forward. Elvish swords tore into the Undead throng, hewing them down like sheaves of wheat. The wight officers retreated through the sundered gates, a few skeletons trailing after them into the night.

"Maintain position here until Eltharion says otherwise!" ordered Sirrion, running back toward the inner city.

"Where are you going, sir?" asked a warrior.

"Home!"

"A disaster!" snapped Kemmler, pacing the deck of the galleon, the surviving Undead ships fleeing east into deep ocean.

"We captured several prizes for you, Master," said the wight officer, indicating the group of sobbing elf girls chained near one of the masts.

Kemmler dismissed them with a snort, then looked more closely at the crying girls. He strode forward, snatching the thin arm of one elf child with long, golden hair and purple eyes.

"You have power," whispered Kemmler, sniffing Lyonesse like a curious hound.

Lyonesse whimpered, tugging weakly on Kemmler's iron grip.

"Perhaps I can salvage something from this debacle after all," smiled Kemmler, his expression cunning.

"Those Undead vermin have my daughter! I'll go after them alone if I have to!" declared Sirrion in the audience hall of Eltharion's castle.

Several elf lords protested, promising that they too would fight the Undead.

"The Elvish battle squadron patrolling the coast is at your disposal, Lord Sirrion," said Eltharion from his chair. "Whoever wishes to aid you has my leave to go."

Over a dozen elf lords walked forward, promising their wealth and their men to aid Sirrion.

"The Undead have proven themselves a threat to Ulthuan. I will travel to Lothern to speak with King Finubar. Hopefully he will raise an army so we may go to the Old World and destroy the Undead scourge."

"My thanks, Lord Eltharion," bowed Sirrion deeply.

"Go, my friend. Save your child."

"I'm going with you!" shouted Elita.

"No, you are not," replied Sirrion, tying shut his pack and slinging it over his left shoulder.

"You can't just leave me here!" wept Elita, grasping Sirrion's arm.

"I cannot bear to lose both of the women I love," said Sirrion softly, looking down at Elita's grief-ravaged face. "I need you to stay here, where it's safe."

"Please..take me with you!" begged Elita, fresh tears welling beneath her eyes.

"Good-bye. I'll return soon with Lyonesse," smiled Sirrion tenderly, kissing his wife on the lips.

Elita stood with hands folded in front of her, weeping silently as Sirrion left their bedroom.

=====

Rebecca ran through the trees like a frightened rabbit, pursued by three highwaymen. The girl wept harshly, her long, dark hair disheveled and littered with twigs and leaves. The robbers laughed and swore behind Rebecca, slowly closing the distance with the fleeing young woman.

Rebecca tripped over a root, falling heavily onto her stomach. She struggled to rise, her dirty dress ripping on a bit of root near the hem. The men's voices drew closer, lending Rebecca new strength as she jumped forward, running on scratched, burning legs.

"I see the little bitch!" howled one of the robbers.

Rebecca moaned, her lungs hungry for air as she ducked under a low branch. There was no warning when the rock smashed into Rebecca's back. She tripped forward again, crashing onto the leaf-littered ground. The girl coughed painfully, clawing at the dirt, anything to keep moving forward.

"Got'er!" smiled the first robber, exposing stained, rotting teeth.

"She isn't dead, is she?" asked the second robber, his rock sling still clutched in his left hand.

"Not that you'd care! You'd poke her anyway!" chortled the first robber.

"I would not!" protested the second robber, punching the first hard in the shoulder.

The two robbers started wrestling, falling to the ground to roll and punch at each other.

Rebecca wheezed for breath, dragging herself slowly away from the brawling men. She grimaced when a strong hand grasped a handful of her silky black hair and pulled viciously.

"You don't want to leave our fine company so quickly, do ya lass?" smiled the third robber maliciously, yanking on Rebecca's hair for emphasis. "Lads! Quit your playing! We have a tender lamb to occupy our time!"

"I want to fuck her first!" grinned the first robber, wiping drool from his wide mouth.

"Get us some dinner and set up camp! We'll have a fine feast of the dead King's venison, then we'll have the lass for dessert!" laughed the robber leader.

Rebecca moaned into the gag tied around her head, closing her eyes while the robber leader fondled her small left breast. The other two robbers laughed wildly, tearing into haunches of venison with their teeth, grease dribbling down their hairy chins. The robber leader bit Rebecca's small nipple, grease covering her tit as the robber sucked firmly on her tender skin.

"Let's have a taste of your honey, lass," growled the robber leader, tugging off Rebecca's dress before ripping away her panties.

Rebecca groaned loudly into her gag as the robber caressed her pussy with his coarse fingers, pressing his index finger into her puffy cunt.

"Ooo, she likes it!" laughed the lean second robber, licking his filthy lips.

"By the Lady I want to stick my cock inside that tender hole," panted the fat first robber.

"After me, you stinking slob!" leered the thin robber.

"I kept her in sight!" snarled the fat robber.

"I brought her down with my sling!" reminded the thin robber.

"Both of you shut up!" snapped the leader. "Slim! You can occupy her mouth while I feast on her womanhood."

The thin robber poked his companion with an elbow before crossing around the crackling campfire to Rebecca and her unwanted paramour.

The robber leader pulled Rebecca's legs apart, leaning over her left leg to press his face against her pussy. Rebecca moaned softly, before the thin robber tore away her gag.

"No, please don't make me," whimpered Rebecca, her brown eyes wide.

"Better get used to it, slut," smiled the thin robber, prying Rebecca's mouth open for his small cock. "Bite it and I slit your miserable throat."

Rebecca closed her lips around the thin robber's prick, tears glittering beneath her eyes as the man pushed his meat deep into her throat. The robber stroked Rebecca's face while he pumped himself back and forth within her mouth, groaning with pleasure.

The robber leader slurped on Rebecca's cunt, running his wet tongue up and down her warm, pink slit. He rubbed his lips on the petals of Rebecca's labia, chewing lightly on her tender folds. Rebecca moaned weakly when the robber leader shoved his tongue into her vagina, rolling it against the trembling walls of her hole. The robber wrapped his arms around Rebecca's thighs, holding her legs apart as he sucked loudly on her pussy, her juices running down his unshaven chin.

"Fuck her," urged the fat robber, stroking his erect cock.

Sucking on the thin robber's member, Rebecca's eyes widened when she saw the leader position himself on his knees between her outspread legs, his palms resting on her bent knees. The leader leered cruelly at her before impaling her cunt with his engorged shaft.

Rebecca arched her back, moaning sharply, drool flowing from the corners of her mouth while she sucked on the thin robber's cock meat.

The leader hugged Rebecca's slim waist, pumping roughly into the naked girl's twat. Rebecca closed her eyes, her small breasts vibrating with each powerful stab into her cunt. The robber leader licked up Rebecca's stomach while he probed her belly with his pole, his lips finally reaching her swollen right nipple. The robber suckled on Rebecca's soft tit, his crotch slapping against hers.

The thin robber climaxed, filling Rebecca's mouth with his salty cream. The robber held Rebecca's chin, making her swallow his thick jizz.

Rebecca gasped for air when the robber released her chin, a trail of white milk trailing down the left side of her panting mouth.

The robber leader's thrusts increased, became more violent as he prepared to orgasm. Grunting, the leader shot his load into Rebecca's vagina, holding her crotch next to his.

"My turn," smiled the fat robber, walking toward Rebecca.

Rebecca lay on the ground, covered in sweat, her stomach heaving. The obese robber sat Rebecca on his lap, facing away from him. He fondled her dripping breasts, pinching her stiff nipples with his sausage-shaped fingers. The robber thrust up with his wide hips, ramming his thick prick up into Rebecca's moist cunt. He held the girl around the waist, keeping her in place while he shoved up into her tight vagina. Rebecca pushed on the robber's entwining arms with her small palms, panting with each stab into her belly. The robber sucked on the right side of Rebecca's neck, squeezing her left tit with his left hand and massaging her clit with his right. Rebecca bucked up and down on the fat man's lap, panting faster and faster until the robber squirted his seed into her throbbing vagina.

"Tie her up before you hit the sack," ordered the robber leader, spreading out his own bedroll.

The fat robber chuckled while he bound Rebecca's wrists behind her back with leather cord. He tied her ankles together, then set her near a tree before returning to the warm fire and his waiting bedroll.

Rebecca lay on her side, sobbing softly, her tits and pussy aching from abuse.

Rebecca woke up just as the sun began brightening the tops of the forest trees. A mist covered the ground of the clearing, curled around each of the sleeping robbers.

*Come to me,* whispered a feminine voice inside Rebecca's mind.

The naked girl sat up, amazed to discover that her arms and legs were free. She draped her tattered dress over her body before walking slowly towards the heart of the fog-filled forest.

Rebecca walked on and on, but the light never got any brighter and the mist never evaporated. She entered a wide clearing, the center dominated by a perfectly circular, smooth- surfaced pool of blue water.

A woman rose from the water, golden hair glistening with droplets of moisture.

"My Lady!" exclaimed Rebecca, dropping to her knees at the edge of the pool.

"My child," smiled the Lady, floating forward.

Rebecca tentatively raised her face, in awe of the Lady's ethereal beauty.

"You are strong, Rebecca. You will be the sword that frees Bretonnia."

"Me? I'm just a girl. I know nothing of weapons or battle."

"And you do not need to. I will be with you, to guide you and grant you strength," replied the Lady, bending down so her glowing face was close to Rebecca's. Rebecca blushed when the Lady kissed her lips, the ghostly woman's mouth cool and soft.

"Take what you need from the animals that violated you, then begin traveling back to Couronne."

"But my Lady! The Undead...!"

"You will gather companions, knights who will help you to destroy the Undead defilers."

"Yes, my Lady!" bowed Rebecca.

The Lady lowered back into the pool, not a ripple marking her passage.

Rebecca cleaned the blood-drenched dagger blade on the shirt of one of the dead robbers. She adjusted the leather vest she had taken from the thin robber's corpse, then slid the now clean dagger into a belt sheath next to her new sword. Tying her long, black hair back with a strip of leather, Rebecca left the campsite, walking northeast towards Couronne.

Captain Frederick Debuhr leveled his pistol and fired into the face of a grasping zombie. The back of the Undead's head exploded, spurting brains over the bodies of his advancing comrades. Frederick fired his last shot into the chest of another zombie before spurring his horse away from the staggering Undead battle line. Cannons roared across the plain, blasting units of Undead to pieces. The shrill scream of mortars filled the smoky air before explosions shook the ground, hurling Undead limply into the sky.

"We've slowed them, sir, but they're still coming!" reported a sergeant, saluting smartly.

"Fall back to Marienburg, its defenses should be in place by now," ordered Frederick, wiping his sweating face.

"Yes, sir!" acknowledged the sergeant, saluting again before running to scream at the men.

Frederick gazed out at the long lines of marching Undead, his face wearing a sick expression as he thumbed fresh rounds into his pistol. Snapping the weapon shut, Frederick urged his horse back toward the fierce battle, determined to make them pay for every inch of Imperial soil.

Nagash sat silently on his skeleton steed, observing as his legions halted in the face of Imperial gunfire and steel.

"A mere company stands in my way, a company!" hissed Nagash, slapping the ends of his reins against the complacent skeleton's spine.

"Their gunpowder weapons are most effective," nodded Acheron, sitting on his own skeletal mount next to his lord.

"Get some wraiths and have them cast some fireballs on those cannons along the left flank. If we can silence them we'll be able to overwhelm their line."

"Yes, Master," replied Acheron, lurching into a gallop down the gentle slope of the hill.

"I conquered Bretonnia, the Empire will not defy me," muttered Nagash, stroking the metal gauntlet that now served as his left hand.

=====

The Lichemaster sat on a skeleton steed near the beach, watching as his legions disembarked from the Bretonnian war galleons. Lyonesse squirmed in Kemmler's grasp, until he tightened his left arm in warning around her thin waist. Returning his attention to the moving army, Heinrich didn't notice the wraith approaching until the Undead coughed for attention.

"Report."

"The Elf Lord is pursuing as you hoped, Lichemaster," replied the dark-robed wraith. "The main Elf army is behind him."

"We'll have to delay him so that the main army can join him. Have raiding parties break off to patrol the area behind our advance and engage him."

"Yes, Master," bowed the wraith, departing.

"Be at ease, child, your father is coming for you," smiled Kemmler, pressing his nose against Lyonesse's sweet-smelling mane of gold hair.

Sirrion stood at the bow of the Elven warship, motionless while the deck heaved and swayed from the crashing waves. He held a small crystal orb in his right hand, the sphere glowing with a bright golden light.

"Are we still heading in the right direction?" asked the ship's captain, moving to Sirrion's side.

"Aye. Continue sailing for the northern coast of Bretonnia," nodded Sirrion, his eyes never leaving the glowing orb.

"We'll get her back safe and sound," promised the captain, resting a hand briefly on Sirrion's left shoulder.

"I hope so," whispered Sirrion.

The Lichemaster's steed proceeded at a sedate walk, undisturbed by the light drizzle that fell from the grey sky. Kemmler wore the hood of his black cloak over his head, the folds of his cloak protecting the young elf girl. Ahead, the city of Couronne sprawled to the east of a wide river, the towers dark, as was the rest of the capital of Bretonnia.

"Why is it so dark?" asked Lyonesse softly.

"You look upon a dead city, my child," smiled Kemmler proudly. "A city of the Undead."

The Lichemaster's troops entered Couronne, breaking into smaller units so they could patrol the large metropolis. Kemmler and his entourage continued riding toward the royal palace, where Queen Vanessa ruled in Nagash's name. Two skeletons guarded the gates of the nearly empty palace, watching Kemmler and Lyonesse with empty, dark eye sockets.

"It's cold," chattered Lyonesse, snuggling deeper into Kemmler's cloak.

"I will have a fire made for you," offered Heinrich magnanimously. "It would not do to have you die from chills before your father catches up with us."

Kemmler lowered the elf girl to the ground before dismounting himself. Taking the girl's small right hand, the Lichemaster approached the doors of the palace, followed by several wraiths, wights, and skeleton servants.

A wraith waited at the top of the entry stairs, purple robes flowing down his lean form.

"The Queen offers her greetings," welcomed the wraith, bowing respectfully to Kemmler. "She asks if you would care to dine with her this evening."

"Tell her that I will," nodded Kemmler. "I require rooms for myself and my young charge."

"If you will follow me, Lichemaster," bade the wraith, entering the tall double doors of the palace.

Lyonesse held her tiny hands in front of the crackling blaze, relishing the warmth radiating from the large fire. Kemmler walked up behind the elf girl, carrying an engraved silver goblet.

"Drink this," ordered Heinrich, handing Lyonesse the goblet.

"What is it?" asked the girl, looking up apprehensively into Heinrich's cold eyes.

"It will make you sleep. I don't want you wandering the hallways of the palace, there are all sorts of unpleasant things that wouldn't mind making a meal out of you."

Lyonesse raised the cup to her lips, sipping the foul tasting liquid reluctantly. Heinrich took back the goblet when Lyonesse was done, waiting until she slumped into his arms. Picking up the girl easily, Heinrich carried her to the large bed, placing her upon it and covering her with thick blankets. Setting the empty goblet on a nearby table, Kemmler left to dine with the Queen of the Undead.

"Your Majesty," bowed Heinrich, his eyes widening when he noticed the Crown of Sorcery over Vanessa's pale brow.

"Lichemaster," smiled Vanessa darkly, sitting in the high-backed chair at the head of the long dining table. "Please, sit."

"Is Bretonnia quiet since the war ended?" inquired Heinrich politely, his gaze straying to the Crown while he picked up a goblet full of dark wine.

"Mostly. A band of rogue knights has begun attacking my patrols. They are merely a nuisance," shrugged Vanessa, avoiding any food or drink, simply staring at the Lichemaster vacantly.

"How did you acquire our Master's Crown?" asked Kemmler off-handedly.

"The Crown belongs to no one!" snarled Vanessa, her eyes smoldering with purple fire.

"Perhaps it hasn't found a worthy master yet," smiled Heinrich brazenly.

"Perhaps. Would you like to try to tame me?" purred Vanessa, her glowing eyes narrowing.

"Yes," replied Heinrich, sipping from his golden cup.

The Crown gleamed with violet light, rising from Vanessa's head, trailing blood from the young woman's torn skin. Vanessa slumped onto the table, twitching weakly.

*Catch me if you can, necromancer!* mocked the Crown, flying out through an open door at the back of the dining room.

Heinrich stood up from his seat, reaching out with his right hand. The Skull Staff appeared within Heinrich's grasp in a cloud of reeking smoke, the small skulls at its top clacking with excitement.

"Guide me to the Crown," commanded Heinrich.

The skulls chattered, whispering directions to the eager Lichemaster.

Vanessa sat up, groaning, pressing her right palm over one of the bleeding wounds upon her head. The blonde half-elf got up from her chair, staggering down the length of the table towards one of the exits. She stumbled through a wide, dark hallway, skeletons stepping aside for their queen. Slowly regaining her senses, Vanessa's steps became surer as she made her way to the guests' quarters.

Vanessa opened the large wooden door, peering inside. The room appeared to be empty, until the young woman noticed a pale form crouched near the foot of the bed, chained by the neck to one of the bed's thick canopy poles. The form hid behind the bed as Vanessa approached, slim flanks shivering.

"What's this? A pet of Kemmler's?" murmured Vanessa, long dormant hungers returning to life.

Fauna looked up at Vanessa, lips trembling, breasts quivering with fear.

"Such a pretty thing," whispered Vanessa, kneeling beside Fauna, caressing the young woman's smooth left cheek.

Fauna jerked away, whimpering.

"Pathetic little slut!" snarled Vanessa, slapping Fauna across the face.

Vanessa seized Fauna's thin arms and threw her onto the bed. Fauna curled into a ball, shaking as Vanessa slid out of her black silk dress. The blonde woman joined Fauna on the bed, spreading Fauna's arms out and holding them down while she licked the prone woman's ripe tits. Fauna moaned softly, her flat belly tightening as Vanessa sucked deeply on her right breast.

"So soft and warm," purred Vanessa, running her tongue around Fauna's right nipple, rubbing her body up and down the trapped woman's.

Vanessa kissed Fauna, sucking on the chained woman's tender lips, squeezing her tits painfully with clawed hands.

Vanessa squatted, positioning her crotch over Fauna's face.

"Suck it, bitch," ordered Vanessa, lowering her pussy onto Fauna's mouth.

Fauna obediently pressed her lips against Vanessa's cunt, sucking on the narrow, pink slit.

Vanessa groaned with bliss, holding onto two of the bed poles, her hips thrusting forward as she ground her pussy over Fauna's beautiful face. Vanessa shoved her cunt harder against Fauna's warm lips, urging the prone woman to probe deeper. Fauna extended her tongue into Vanessa's vagina, lapping at the entrance of the queen's twat. Vanessa moaned sharply, her legs trembling, beads of nectar falling from her musky cunt. Vanessa clenched her tight buttocks, humping Fauna's face over and over. Fauna continued slurping on Vanessa's pussy, her chin and cheeks covered in Vanessa's glistening honey. Vanessa began panting, her orgasm building. With a shrill scream, Vanessa climaxed, her pelvis shuddering while a torrent of her juices washed over Fauna's gasping face.

"My turn," smiled Vanessa, turning around, then lowering her face between Fauna's slender white legs. Fauna groaned deeply, Vanessa's pussy dripping onto her mouth while Vanessa sucked ravenously on her moist cunt.

Heinrich entered the throne room, the Skull Staff chattering loudly. Eyes alert, the Lichemaster studied every dark inch of the chamber, searching for the allusive Crown. One of the skulls alerted Heinrich, indicating one of the huge pillars to his right. Heinrich cast a low energy fireball, throwing it at the pillar. Blue flames lit up the enormous room, revealing the Crown floating near the right-hand wall.

*You found me, but can you keep me?* baited the Crown, flying toward Heinrich.

The Lichemaster braced himself when the Crown landed on his head, iron thorns biting into the wizard's temples. Fire exploded within Kemmler's brain, the Crown's powerful mind attempting to overwhelm his. Heinrich clutched at the Crown, dropping his staff to the polished marble floor with a clatter. Kemmler ground his teeth together, resisting the Crown's assault.

*No,* protested the Crown, shocked that Heinrich still fought with it.

"Your magic..is..mine!" declared Kemmler, smiling triumphantly.

The Crown glowed with purple flame, its voice silenced by Heinrich's stronger will.

"Now I am Master!" roared Heinrich, cackling with glee within the echoing throne room.

Sirrion parried a zombie's blade, then cut open the Undead's stomach, black intestines spilling out onto the ground. Shifting from one foe to another, Sirrion was surprised when an arrow smacked into a zombie's neck, followed by another that knocked the zombie off his feet.

Men in mismatched armor emerged from the tall grass, some wielding bows while others charged with upraised swords. Elves and Men made short work of the Undead patrol, wary of each other when the last zombie had been put down.

"Who leads your band?" asked Sirrion, wiping dark blood from his blade.

"I do," replied Rebecca, separating from her comrades to face the Elf Lord.

"You have my thanks, Lady," bowed Sirrion respectfully.

"Where are you headed?" inquired Rebecca, sheathing her sword.

"Southeast."

"Couronne lies that way. It is held by a legion of Undead," warned Rebecca.

"They have my daughter, even a legion will not stop me," swore Sirrion fervently.

"You won't survive with this many men," said Rebecca pragmatically, indicating Sirrion's warriors.

"My King sails here with more."

"You should wait for your king to land. You can stay with me and my men if you wish, we could attack a few more Undead patrols," suggested Rebecca, offering Sirrion her right hand.

Sirrion considered, recognizing the wisdom in the young woman's words.

"Very well," agreed Sirrion, clasping Rebecca's palm in a firm handshake.

=====

"Stupid bitch!" rebuked Heinrich, snapping the whip across Vanessa's bare back.

Vanessa screamed, her back cris-crossed with throbbing red welts, her arms outstretched and bound to the poles at the foot of Heinrich's bed.

Heinrich lashed out with the whip again, snapping the leather against Vanessa's rounded right buttock.

Fauna covered her face with her arms, curled into a fetal position in a corner of the bedroom. Lyonesse watched raptly, her breath quickening.

Kemmler took a moment to rest, his chest heaving. He retrieved a cup of wine from a skeleton servant, gulping the sweet liquid greedily. He noticed the elf girl's fascination with the bound woman, a smile formed on his lips.

"Do you want to touch her?" murmured Heinrich, walking to Lyonesse's side.

"What? No!" blushed Lyonesse, lowering her red face in shame.

"Then why are you breathing so fast?" asked Kemmler, stroking Lyonesse's hot right cheek.

"I've…I've never seen such a thing," admitted Lyonesse, her pink lips trembling.

"A vile omission in your education, child," clucked Kemmler, taking Lyonesse's hand and leading her up to Vanessa's bound form.

Lyonesse wouldn't look up, but her small nostrils flared, inhaling the stench of musk and sweat that surrounded Vanessa's naked body.

"Touch her ass," instructed Kemmler.

"No, that's bad," whispered Lyonesse.

"Do it!" snapped Kemmler, yanking back on the elf girl's hair.

Lyonesse whimpered, then tentatively reached out with a quivering right hand, touching Vanessa's bruised left buttock.

"Nice, isn't it?" smiled Heinrich, excited from the sight of the young elf girl stroking Vanessa's ass.

"It's silky and warm," murmured Lyonesse, her hand continuing to pet Vanessa's buttock.

"Would you like to taste her pussy?"

"No!" gasped Lyonesse, her eyes straying to Vanessa's outspread legs.

"Do it," purred Heinrich into Lyonesse's pointed right ear.

The young girl knelt down, taking each of Vanessa's buttocks with her small hands and prying them apart. Reluctant, yet eager, Lyonesse leaned forward, extending her little pink tongue, then softly touching Vanessa's wet cunt.

"Sweet, isn't it?" grinned Kemmler, stroking Lyonesse's golden hair.

"Um hm," moaned Lyonesse, gently licking Vanessa's pussy.

Vanessa groaned, her legs shivering from the pleasure.

Kemmler knelt behind Lyonesse, tugging the white shift down her small, thin body. Lyonesse didn't protest, she continued to lick Vanessa's cunt, collecting the honey that appeared upon the pink folds of the woman's warm sex. Kemmler pressed his hands over Lyonesse's tiny breasts, rubbing his cool palms over her small brown nipples. Lyonesse moaned inside Vanessa's cunt, her lips sucking on the bound woman's clit.

"That's a good girl," praised Kemmler, his right hand sliding down Lyonesse's warm belly to her small crotch. He stroked the young girl's hairless snatch, rubbing her puffy labia lips, then inserting an index finger into her small, virgin slit.

Lyonesse whimpered, her body shuddering, her thighs pressing together while she licked Vanessa's dripping cunt. Kemmler licked the back of Lyonesse's neck, his left hand squeezing her left breast as his finger dipped in and out of her pussy, the digit covered in sticky, glistening honey.

Vanessa twitched in her wrist bonds, her pussy vomiting a river of cum over Lyonesse's young face. The elf girl giggled as the juices sprayed over her face, she flicked out her tongue to catch what she could. Kemmler shoved his finger deeper into Lyonesse's pussy, thrusting over and over until the elf girl gasped, her crotch shivering, honey pouring from her vagina onto the Lichemaster's rubbing palm.

Sirrion shielded his eyes from the lowering sun's light. The city of Couronne awaited him, its battlements patrolled by squads of Undead.

"It will be a difficult battle," observed King Finubar, standing next to the tense Elf Lord.

"She is there, I know it," replied Sirrion.

"We attack at dawn," said the King. "Come, we must discuss strategy with the other lords."

"Is this all?" asked Rebecca, standing on a short hilltop, looking out at the tents of the camping knights.

"Yes, my lady," nodded Sir Phillip, smiling ruefully.

"It will have to do," sighed Rebecca, walking down the hillside toward the large pavilion where she would discuss the coming battle with her knight commanders.

Rebecca and Phillip entered the candle-lit pavilion, their faces blossoming with expressions of shock that matched the other knights who gazed upon the sorceress Morgiana Le Fey.

"Lady Rebecca," curtseyed Morgiana politely.

"Lady Morgiana!" stammered Rebecca, falling to her right knee.

"Rise, noble knight! The future Queen of Bretonnia should not kneel to anyone except the Lady."

"Queen?" exclaimed some of the milling knights to each other.

"Yes. After tomorrow's battle, Bretonnia will be free again, and Rebecca will oversee its healing," proclaimed Morgiana.

"I am not worthy," protested Rebecca.

"This is the Lady's will. You will be Queen," said Morgiana. "Now let us discuss strategy, we have a kingdom to liberate."

The dawn was grey and oppressive, thick fog covered the ground around the city walls. Heinrich stood on the battlements near Couronne's north gate, his left hand resting on the pommel of his Chaos Tomb blade.

"The scouts never returned," reported a wraith officer.

"The Elf Lord is coming. I had hoped to lead him to Nagash's army, but with the power of the Crown, I will destroy the Elven army, then I will crush Nagash's legions. I will rule the entire Old World, as is my destiny," declared Heinrich, his eyes burning with dreams of glory.

"Yes, Master," bowed the wraith.

"Behold," said Heinrich, spreading out his black-garbed arms.

The Crown of Sorcery gleamed on Kemmler's brow, collecting the Winds of Magic. A blast of powerful air roared across the fields beyond the north gate, dispelling the cloaking fog. The assembled elves and knights stood revealed to the Undead guarding Couronne's walls.

"Catapults, fire!" roared Kemmler.

Screaming skulls launched into the overcast sky, descending on streams of fire toward the army below. Explosions rocked the battlefield, knights and elves blasted off their feet or torn to pieces by the howling skull projectiles.

Kemmler cackled madly, invoking the Crown again, summoning bolts of black fire that sizzled into the milling attackers, punching through armor and bodies, slaying a dozen men with one strike. Fire blossomed around entire units, sending men flaming and screaming in all directions.

The Lichemaster summoned fire into his right palm. He threw the fireball, the sphere becoming larger and larger, glowing like a miniature sun as the Crown fed magic into it. The ball exploded with a roar that shook the entire city wall and much of the countryside. Kemmler's smile disappeared when he saw that his spell had slain no one. A tall, dark-haired woman appeared, gazing up insolently at the Lichemaster.

"Morgiana," murmured Kemmler, his lip curling.

The Fey Sorceress raised her right hand, pointing at Heinrich. The crack of thunder echoed across the battlefield as an enormous bolt of blue lightning snapped toward the Lichemaster. The Crown barely saved Heinrich's life, deflecting the bolt, which slew a score of skeletons guarding the eastern battlement.

"For Bretonnia and the Lady!" screamed Rebecca, racing toward Couronne's towering wall.

Rebecca's knights followed her, shouting battle cries as they ran. Sirrion and the Elven King positioned massive crossbows to face the city gates. With a shout from the King, the weapons' massive bolts flew, smashing into the gates, crumpling them. Knights and Elves charged the portals, reaching them just as a second wave of bolts smashed the gates open. Rebecca entered the city, sword flashing, cutting down the Undead standing in her way.

Lightning snapped around Heinrich while he flung more fireballs at the implacable sorceress below. The Crown burned brightly, matching Morgiana's power, protecting the Lichemaster while he attempted to slay the woman. There was a loud snap, like shattering ice, before the Crown of Sorcery broke apart, falling from Heinrich's head.

"Impossible!" exclaimed Kemmler, before a lightning bolt slammed into his chest, knocking him off his feet.

Kemmler fell heavily, hacking for breath, his chest in agony. Fumbling within a pocket, Kemmler unsealed a healing potion and gulped down the liquid. The pain eased, allowing the Lichemaster to lean back against a battlement to catch his breath.

The entire wall shook when lightning bolts struck out, blasting Undead from their posts. Gazing into the courtyard below, Kemmler grimaced when he saw squads of knights and elves slaughtering the Undead, driving his minions back into the city's streets.

"Victory will be mine another day," swore Kemmler, walking in a crouch so Morgiana would not see him, hoping he could reach a zombie dragon before the entire city was overrun by the elves and knights.

"What's that noise?" groaned Vanessa, wrapping a blanket more tightly around her lithe frame.

Lyonesse stood up from the floor where she rested with Fauna, moving to the bedroom's only window to look outside.

"It looks like a big fight," said Lyonesse.

"Kemmler's probably finishing off the knights too stupid to run away," dismissed Vanessa from the bed. "Go back to sleep."

The bedroom door crashed open, frightening all three young women.

Four knights entered the room, examining the women warily.

"The Undead are defeated. We've freed the city," said a knight.

"Lady Fauna!" gasped another knight, falling to his knee, "I didn't recognize you for a moment!"

Fauna stood up slowly, right arm outstretched. The kneeling knight offered Fauna his cloak, which she draped across her bare white shoulders.

"Your dagger," whispered Fauna.

The knight tentatively unsheathed his knife, offering it hilt first to Fauna.

The lovely noblewoman pounced on the bed, stabbing down into Vanessa. Vanessa screamed, thrashing madly as Fauna rammed the dagger into her stomach and chest again and again. The knights watched in paralyzed shock along with Lyonesse, until Fauna climbed off the blood-drenched bed, returning the dripping dagger to its owner.

"Your father will be eager to see you," said Fauna, taking Lyonesse's hand and leading the girl out of the bedroom.

"By the grace of the Lady, I crown you Queen of all Bretonnia!" cried out Morgiana proudly.

"Long live the Queen!" shouted the assembled knights in the throne room, their strong voices reverberating throughout the long chamber.

"Long live the Queen," repeated Sir Phillip, kneeling at the foot of the throne dais.

Rebecca blushed, clasping her trembling hands behind her back. The golden crown was a heavy weight upon the young woman's head, she prayed that she would be strong enough to bear it.

"The kingdom will take a long time to heal, but before we turn to that task, we have another duty to perform. The Elves were instrumental in freeing our land from the dark grasp of the Undead. We must now aid them in their crusade to destroy the Undead threat once and for all. We rest tonight, but tomorrow we march with our Elven comrades into the Empire, to destroy the creature that slaughtered so many of our friends and loved ones. We march to destroy Nagash!"

=====

"She's gone," whispered Nagash, sitting heavily on a folding camp chair, a goblet of wine untouched in his right hand.

"Then we've lost Bretonnia," said Naziram.

"It will be regained, and this time nothing will remain alive after I'm done," swore Nagash, gulping down a mouthful of wine.

"Do we continue the march toward Marienburg?" inquired Acheron.

"Yes," said Nagash, staring into the surface of his remaining wine.

"We've taken heavy losses from the Empire's cannons and mortars. If the Bretonnians attack our rear, we'll be crushed," warned Acheron.

"Perhaps we should return to Nagashizzar, Master," suggested Naziram tentatively. "With the loss of Lacroix, we cannot raid Imperial towns easily to replenish our numbers. Perhaps we should withdraw, rebuild our legions for another day."

"You dare suggest retreat?" roared Nagash, jumping from his chair, grasping the wraith's throat with his iron left hand. Naziram clawed at the crushing gauntlet, his purple-robed body twitching.

"I will not retreat and I will not accept defeat!" spat Nagash into Naziram's ghostly face before snapping the wraith's neck. Naziram's body exploded into a cloud of noxious vapor which dissipated in the breeze.

Acheron fell to his knee, face downcast.

"Do you council retreat?" asked Nagash softly.

"No, Master! I will ready your legions for the attack on Marienburg!" exclaimed the wight.

"Very good. You are dismissed," nodded Nagash.

The wight left the tent quickly, leaving the Supreme Lord of the Undead alone. Nagash fell heavily back into his chair, retrieving his goblet of wine. He swirled the dark liquid, lost in thought.

With the arrival of dusk, the bombardment came. Screaming skulls smashed into Marienburg's stout walls, a few arcing over the barrier to shatter against homes and shops, throwing flames everywhere.

Flame crews raced to extinguish fires while the Imperial cannons replied, roaring as they spat shot into the Undead hordes. Undead fell in waves, cut down like wheat before a scythe beneath the massive, blazing cannons of Marienburg.

Zombie dragons took to the air, diving toward the city's battlements.

Repeater cannons screamed, filling the sky with blossoming fire, tearing the dragons to pieces before they even reached the walls.

Wraiths cast fireballs at Marienburg's defenders, sizzling green spheres arcing across the corpse-choked battlefield.

The fireballs smashed into invisible shields erected by Imperial wizards. The mages counter-attacked with spells that shook the ground, knocking Undead off their feet. The earth opened, swallowing entire units. Great holes appeared in the Undead lines, swaths of destruction made by the never-ending reports of Imperial cannon.

"We've lost half our forces in less than an hour!" shouted Acheron over the thunder of the cannons. "We have to withdraw!"

"No!" snarled Nagash, impaling the wight with his black sword. "We attack!"

Acheron didn't reply, all that remained of him was a bit of ash and pieces of rusted armor.

Horns sounded from the north, forcing Nagash to spin around. Nagash's eyes widened when armies of elves and knights charged across the field, crashing into the Undead legions' rear.

"I am Nagash! I am the Supreme Lord of the Undead!" spat the necromancer, rushing to mount his zombie dragon.

The Undead creature flapped its leathery wings, taking to the night sky, sailing toward the Elvish position.

A war griffon flew to meet Nagash, its rider encased in blinding silver armor.

"For Bretonnia and the Lady!" shouted Rebecca, leveling the Lion Lance at Nagash.

"Foolish bitch!" smiled Nagash, raising his sword.

Griffon and dragon closed, screaming at each other with hate. Nagash swung his sword, cutting into Rebecca's right arm. The Lion Lance impaled Nagash in the stomach, pushing him out of his saddle.

"I am immortal! I cannot die!" screamed Nagash, falling forever until he smashed onto the battlefield.

The zombie dragon exploded, bones and pieces of wing raining down toward the ground. All across the battlefield, wraiths and wights transformed to smoke, weapons clattering to the earth. Zombies fell forward, the magic that animated them gone. Skeletons shattered, bones littering the field.

Rebecca landed her griffon, then staggered toward Nagash's body, clutching her bleeding right arm. She stood over the Lord of the Undead, her black hair snapping in the charnel-reeking air.

Nagash clawed at the Lion Lance vainly, his strength leeching away. He gazed at Rebecca hatefully, mouth working silently. The light slowly faded from Nagash's dark eyes, then his arms fell to the ground.

"It's over," said Sir Phillip, joining Rebecca.

"Burn the body, then scatter the ashes to the wind," ordered Rebecca.

"Yes, Your Majesty," nodded Phillip. "We should see to your wound."

"I'm fine, Phillip," smiled Rebecca, looking out over the quiet battlefield. "The Undead plague is finally gone."

=====

Thunder shook the delicate glass, a crackle of lightning illuminating the black sky. He smiled, considering that the thunder could be a portent of doom, then dismissing it. The thunder was a cry of joy, the land acknowledging that a time of greatness was approaching.

"My lord, do you wish to hear my report?" inquired the pale vampiress respectfully.

"Of course, my dear. Begin."

"The Elves have returned to Ulthuan, and Queen Rebecca has withdrawn her knights to Bretonnia, she only stayed long enough for Emperor Frederick's coronation."

"A new Emperor so soon? I had hoped for more time. What about Nagashizzar?"

"Dead, literally. He didn't return there."

"So, the Supreme Lord of the Undead is truly slain. What a pity," smiled the vampire smugly.

"That's all I have for now," bowed the vampiress.

"You may go," dismissed the vampire.

When the door closed, the vampire looked down at his gleaming ring. He turned it around his pale finger, thoughtful. Leaving the window, Vlad Von Carstein walked across the room in a swirl of black cape. There was much planning to do.

"Lyonesse!" wept Elita, kneeling down to hug her daughter tightly.

The young elf girl returned her mother's hug while Sirrion stood back and watched with burning eyes.

"Are you alright? Were you hurt?" demanded Elita.

"I'm fine, Mama," grinned Lyonesse, snuggling close to her mother again.

"We'll have a feast tonight!" exclaimed Elita, her face alight with joy.

"I could eat one," smiled Sirrion, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist.

"Can I go to my room? I'm tired," said Lyonesse.

"Of course. I'll get you when supper's ready," smiled Elita, hugging her daughter one last time, kissing the young girl's golden curls.

Lyonesse climbed up the spiraling stairwell to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She slipped out of her dress, walking naked to her bedroom window. She sat on the wide window ledge, bare legs tucked in, looking out at the white clouds as they sailed over the spires of the city.

Lyonesse could still smell the cloy aroma of Vanessa's pussy. The elf girl ran a fingertip over her lower lip, remembering the taste of another woman's honey in her mouth. She slid her right palm down her stomach, recalling the Lichemaster's touch. Lyonesse opened her legs enough so her hand could touch her young pussy. Leaning back against the windowsill, Lyonesse closed her eyes, a soft moan escaping her lips as she massaged her aching cunt.

~~~~~~