[01]
"This game sucks!" declared Rhant.
"We haven’t even really gotten into it yet," protested Jana, who sat across the campfire facing the irate mage.
"We don’t have to, it’s the same lame story like all the fantasy sims now. A dark god wants to increase his power, so he gets a power hungry wizard to kidnap some babes for a pseudo-erotic ritual in order to take over the world. It’s been done, it’s tired!"
"Oh, so you decide to break character and ruin it for the both of us!" snapped Jana.
"It was rather rude, Rhant," observed Jiri. "You did the same thing in the last node sim we played."
"Ultima Orgasm? Ultima Upchuck is more appropriate!" snorted Rhant. "That sim was so regulated I couldn’t get pussy from any of the NPC personas!"
"There’s more to role-playing than having sex with the characters," replied Jiri with a disapproving frown.
"Like what? Casting imaginary spells and fighting computer-generated monsters? Puhleese!"
"Look, if you don’t want to play anymore, why don’t you just jack-out and ruin some other game!" spat Jana.
"Nah, I’m already here, I think I’ll just make things a little more interesting," smiled Rhant darkly as he rose from the ground.
"You mess with the code and I’ll castrate you myself," warned Jana, her eyes smoldering.
"Don’t worry, I won’t," chuckled Rhant while he walked to the edge of the forest clearing where the party had made their evening camp. "By the way, that romance sub-plot between you and me made me sick."
"Fuck you," retorted Jana, giving Rhant the finger.
Rhant’s mocking laughter echoed through the trees as he disappeared into the darkness.
"Should we quit? You know he’ll destroy the whole story by acting out of character."
"No, let’s play a little longer. Who knows? By doing unpredictable things, maybe Rhant will make the game more exciting," shrugged Jiri.
"Maybe," agreed Jana reluctantly.
***
Alfred Mortis sat back against the trunk of a tall tree, letting the soft wind blow his long white hair away from his wrinkled face. The necromancer smiled just before a human shape emerged from the trees to face him.
"Thanks for the guides," remarked Rhant as tiny skeletal mice skittered across the grassy clearing to crouch protectively around their master.
"I was using them to scout for Dove Falconhand, imagine my surprise when one of them spotted you wandering the forest."
"Dove? Oh, yeah! She’s one of those Chosen bitches, bursting with divine magic, right?"
"Your tone of voice seems to have changed since our last meeting. Are you possessed?"
"No, no. I want to change sides. I want to join your team, go Xvim!"
"You wish to abandon your lovely companions? I find that strange."
"You haven’t had to travel with them."
"Hmph. Why should I allow you to quest with me?"
"Jiri is a cleric of Lathander. Her boss has connections with the Harpers, the organization that your target buddies with, I believe," grinned Rhant smugly.
"Hmm," replied Alfred, regarding the smiling young mage suspiciously. "Very well, you may accompany me for now. Remember, I hold the power of Iyachtu Xvim, defy me and death will seem like a sweet release."
"Yeah, yeah, betray me and die, I’ve heard it before," dismissed Rhant casually. "Now, what’s the plan?"
"We must draw your friends, and possibly Dove, into a trap."
"How?"
"By appealing to their heroic natures," smiled Alfred coldly.
***
Dawn was just cresting over the tops of the trees near the village of Dathorgrove. Debra was hanging the daily wash over a clothesline when the warning horns sounded. The petite half-elf girl faced the direction that the horn sounded from, holding her clasped hands beneath her breasts while the horn shrilled again.
"Debra! Get inside!" ordered Debra’s elvish father.
Debra ran into her father’s arms, letting him lead her inside to safety. Debra’s human mother and her younger brother stood close together in the living room, warm light pouring over them from the room’s large window.
"Stay with your mother," said the girl’s father before he took his sword from where it lay on one of the living room chairs.
"Father! Don’t go!" exclaimed Debra, her light gray eyes wide with fright.
The elf’s eyes softened briefly, he caressed Debra’s left cheek, his fingers tracing along her pale white skin.
"I love you, Debra. I have to go to keep you safe," replied the elf before he drew back his hand and left the house.
"I love you, too, papa," murmured Debra, her eyes brimming with tears.
***
Debra’s father rushed to the western side of Dathorgrove, where the men were preparing their defense.
"Who is it? Goblins? Orcs?" asked the elf.
"Undead, Tanis," replied an elf militiaman. "It’s the patrol that disappeared last night."
"Damn. Where’s our wizard?"
"We found him in his cottage, his body looked like a swarm of rats had gotten him."
"I hate necromancers," cursed Tanis.
Scuffling bushes drew everyone’s attention. Tanis grasped the pommel of his sword tightly, his thoughts warring between the coming battle and the family he had left at home. Zombies shambled out of the trees, four walking corpses that had once been elvish scouts. They stumbled from step to step, weapons held loosely in their gray-skinned grasps. A few fighter-mages cast spells, hurling glowing darts of magic at the advancing undead. Three zombies took damage, but only one fell from fatal wounds. Archers drew back bowstrings, but before they could launch, a sphere of flame ignited in the midst of the defenders, centered on the fighter-mages who had previously cast spells.
The explosion hammered at Tanis’ ears. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain as comrades flew up into the air from the force of the detonation. The smell of charred flesh assaulted Tanis’ nose while he opened his eyes and took in the horrible scene. Dead and dying elf warriors lay everywhere, their bodies smoking and disfigured with burns. The zombies reached the battle line, hacking at the prone defenders with their blades. Tanis rallied two of his neighbors, charging the zombies from the right flank. The elf warrior dismembered a zombie’s arm, then sliced a great rent in its stomach, releasing a steaming bundle of glistening entrails. Tanis’ comrades destroyed a second zombie, then attacked a third. The third zombie stabbed one elf in the belly, but fell to the surviving elf’s shining sword swipe.
Undead vermin raced out of the trees, washing over the injured and the living like a ungodly wave. Elves screamed as skeletal rats and rabbits gnawed on ankles and feet, then climbed up legs to bite and claw. Tanis started to rush to his townsmen’s aid, but halted when he spotted a lone human in black robes standing near a tree at the edge of the forest. The wizard raised his right hand, spilling glowing sand from his hand while mouthing strange words. Tanis snarled in rage, watching as several elves suddenly fell asleep where they stood. Skeletal rats swarmed over the sleeping defenders, knocking them to the ground before tearing them to bloody shreds. Tanis brandished his sword as he ran towards the waiting necromancer. The mage readied his black iron staff, the weapon glowing with eerie green light. Staff and blade rang as they clashed, Tanis swung and stabbed, trying to find an opening in the wizard’s defense.
Alfred smiled eagerly, his dark blue eyes gleaming as he parried blow after blow. Tanis took a hit to the left shoulder, then a stab in the stomach with the tip of the mage’s staff. Tanis stumbled backwards, before Alfred knocked his feet out from under him with an agile foot sweep from his weapon. The elf smashed onto his back, his sword escaping from limp fingers. Tanis watched the mage stand over him, the human’s face ecstatic with obscene joy.
"Debra," moaned Tanis before the mage’s staff smashed into his head, breaking it open like a melon.
***
While Alfred and his zombie slaves attacked the west side of Dathorgrove, Rhant waited impatiently on the eastern side of town. When the young wizard caught the sound of the elves’ warning horns, he laughed with evil anticipation. He grasped a wand eagerly in his right hand, aiming it at a two-story building just within town limits. Invoking the command word, Rhant watched as a blue-white bolt of lightning cracked from the wand to the building, reducing the once quaint townhouse to a burning ruin. Screams from the elves trapped inside sang in Rhant’s ears as he aimed at another building, this time a long-sided inn.
***
The house seemed to shake with thunder as Debra waited with her mother and brother. She dared to look outside the window, horrified to see fires consuming many of her hometown’s buildings. Screams and the moans of the dying wafted in the air, making Debra’s lips tremble as they grew louder and louder.
"Maybe we should go, try to find other families," suggested Debra softly.
"No! We wait here for your father, just like he told us to," retorted the girl’s mother sharply, her arms wrapped protectively around her son’s chest.
Debra returned her gaze to the window, the light of the fires glaring against the smooth glass. She spied a lonely figure dressed in a black tunic, brown breeches, and boots, who seemed to be puzzling over a scroll.
"I wish the old man had gone over this more carefully," complained Rhant, his attention focused on the scroll in his hands. "Oh, well, might as well give it a shot."
Debra watched the young human as he pointed at the dead body of an elf woman who lay in the shadow of a narrow alley. The human uttered words in a language that made Debra’s pointed ears hurt. She narrowed her eyes as the words wriggled inside her brain like ravenous worms. Debra’s eyes widened in surprise when the dead elf staggered to her feet, a shard of debris lodged in her lower back.
"I did it! I did it!" shouted Rhant, dancing around his first undead creation. The elf zombie stared straight ahead, expressionless and unmoving while Rhant fondled her breasts and rubbed his hand across her crotch.
Debra put her hand over her mouth, disgusted with the human mage’s lewd antics.
"Now, I suppose we should go join ‘master’ Alfred," smirked Rhant, leading his undead minion down the street.
Debra stood paralyzed before the window, her eyes locked on the undead elf woman who shambled slavishly after her new master. The elf girl realized her danger too late, backing away from the window just as Rhant happened to glance in her direction.
"Ooo, fresh meat," chuckled Rhant, indicating Debra’s house with an imperious finger. "Fetch, girl."
The zombie walked towards Debra’s front door, then smashed it in with her shoulder. Debra’s mother screamed in terror, her son moaning softly in her arms. Debra stumbled away from the zombie, until her back hit a wall. The undead elf woman grabbed Debra’s left arm in a vice grip, dragging the screaming girl towards the shattered door. Debra’s mother moved her son behind her, then attacked the zombie, pulling on the elf woman’s long hair and scratching her cold skin. Rhant watched with amusement as his undead slave brought him his prize. The zombie halted in front of Rhant, Debra held tightly against its body with both hands. Rhant relished the elf mother’s desperation for a few moments, then raised his right hand nonchalantly.
"No! Please! Don’t hurt my mother!" shouted Debra in Common, struggling within the zombie’s grasp.
Rhant smiled cruelly before he cast Magic Missile, the single red bolt smashing into the elf woman’s chest. Debra’s mother staggered back, blood trickling from her lips before she fell limply to the ground. Debra’s brother cried out, rushing from the house’s doorway.
"No! Stay back!" warned Debra.
Rhant regarded the elf boy, sniffed, then began walking west along the boulevard. The zombie followed her master, taking a writhing Debra with her.
***
"Is the girl really necessary?" inquired Alfred.
"Hell, yeah. I’m going to shag her blue!" laughed Rhant.
"Just do it away from me, I have to keep an eye out for your friends," scowled the necromancer.
"Got’cha, chief," saluted Rhant before he led his zombie and prisoner away from the carnage of the western town edge.
***
"This’ll do," observed Rhant as he entered the common room of the tavern. The room was empty, with several round tables, chairs, and a cold fireplace along the right-hand wall. A bar stood to the left, with stairs ascending up from the far wall.
"Let me go!" shouted Debra, her arms pinned at her sides by the zombie.
"Shut up, bitch," replied Rhant casually before he slapped her across the face.
"I love VR, it’s so real," purred the mage as he rubbed the hand that had struck Debra.
Debra stared fearfully at her captor while he rifled through the tavern’s liquor supply. Rhant finally found a bottle of old wine, popping the cork and sniffing its rich smell. He took a long swig, licking the red liquid from his lips with relish. The mage leered at Debra, making her quiver under his gaze as he gulped another long pull from the bottle. Rhant slid his pack from his shoulders, rummaging inside until he found several lengths of leather cord.
"Take her clothes off," ordered Rhant.
The elf woman zombie reached around to the front of Debra’s white blouse, ripping the thin fabric apart roughly. Debra screamed, struggling vainly as the zombie discarded her blouse and tore off her long skirt. The half-elf girl was clad only in panties and her leather shoes when Rhant spun her around and tied her wrists behind her back.
"Stop it, please!" shouted Debra.
"I warned you, slut," clucked Rhant, kicking the backs of her lower legs cruelly. Debra grunted as she fell to her knees, her legs on fire with pain. Rhant yanked the girl’s head back by her waist-length blue hair, forcing her mouth open in order to fasten a leather strap inside it. Tying the strap behind her head, Rhant forced Debra’s face onto the floor, thrusting her round ass high into the air.
"Naughty girls must be spanked," smiled Rhant as he took yet another strap and slapped it across Debra’s buttocks. Debra moaned loudly through her gag, tears glistening in her eyes while Rhant snapped the strap over her firm ass. Red bruises burned across the girl’s skin, the slap of leather on flesh reverberating in Debra’s sensitive ears. When both of Debra’s buttocks were covered in red welts, Rhant forced the girl into an upright kneeling position. He pinched her nipples until she groaned, then he fondled her still growing tits.
"Hmm, nice and soft," murmured Rhant into Debra’s left ear as he squeezed her young mounds, caressing them with his agile fingers. "I bet your pussy’s getting wet right now."
Debra glanced at her tormentor with frightened eyes, her lips trembling around the leather fastened against her face.
"Not so defiant now, are you, cunt?" observed Rhant, his right hand sliding down Debra’s bare back to her panties. He slid the undergarment down to her knees, then placed his hand between her clenched thighs.
"Open your legs, bitch," ordered Rhant impatiently.
Quivering under the young wizard’s touch, Debra slowly opened her thighs so Rhant could reach her nearly bare pussy. The human fondled her little bush of pubic hair, twining his fingers in the soft, blue curls. Debra gasped softly when Rhant rubbed her cunt with a finger, moving up and down the cleft of her labia lips.
"You like this, don’t you? You’ve never been with a man before. I’ll change that, my little whore."
Debra closed her eyes, groaning with revulsion when Rhant pressed his finger deeper into her pussy, probing the soft pink folds of her slit. Rhant lowered his mouth to Debra’s left breast, sucking deeply on it. He rubbed his hand up and down the crack of Debra’s ass, his fingers teasing her pussy until it became damp with arousal.
-----
[02]
Azimer rode his black charger along the forest trail, raking his fingers through his thick, black hair. The lich was now handsome thanks to the power of the obsidian ring riding on a finger of his right hand. Azimer wore a black silk tunic and breeches, high boots, and a thin black cloak with red trim. A dagger lay sheathed upon his belt, along with several pouches of spell components. Azimer sat casually in his saddle, arrogant in his power, scanning the forest with a Detect Good spell.
"Well met, Azimer the Ever-Living," greeted a sultry female voice from the vegetation.
Azimer frowned in surprise, raising his right hand in preparation of casting a deadly spell.
"Hold your strike, dread mage. I mean you no harm," reassured the voice before a slim human female emerged from behind the trunk of a massive tree.
Azimer raised one of his now perfect eyebrows, for the woman he beheld was quite beautiful. She had shining black hair that hung to the base of her graceful neck, generous breasts constrained by a black leather corset that tied up the front, fishnet stockings over her slim, firm legs, high black boots, and a spiked choke collar around her throat. The exotic woman wore black silk gloves and carried a dagger on her rich leather belt, along with a coiled whip and a large belt pouch.
"Who are you, wench?" growled Azimer.
"My name is Vana Lasher, priestess of the goddess Loviatar," bowed the woman.
"The pain goddess. How…appropriate," observed Azimer, sliding his gaze up and down Vana’s luscious body and alluring garb.
"Whom do you search for?" inquired Vana casually.
"A group of adventurers who released me from my underground prison."
"Why?"
"To…thank them, of course," smiled Azimer coldly.
"Of course," replied Vana skeptically. "May I accompany you?"
"Why should I let you?"
"I could be quite…diverting," grinned Vana seductively.
"Yes, I might be entertained watching you observe your faith. Very well, you may join me for now."
Azimer helped Vana climb atop his steed, then the couple resumed the ride down the narrow trail.
***
"Please, don’t," begged Debra as Rhant held her outstretched right arm.
"Don’t be such a baby," rebuked the mage before he sliced a line across the half-elf girl’s small wrist.
Debra hissed in pain while she watched her bright red blood drip down onto the surface of a polished steel short sword. Rhant began chanting a spell, his voice guiding the blood, commanding it to form arcane sigils on the blade’s surface. When the spell ended, the entire sword glowed with a hot ruby light, then returned to normal except for the burning red runes inscribed upon the blade.
"I name you Heartbane," declared Rhant proudly as he held the weapon up high.
Debra watched her captor, cradling her cut arm to her stomach. Rhant swung the short sword in wide, twisting arcs, dancing with it around the empty common room of the abandoned tavern.
"Rhant! Stop your foolish games! I sense your friends approaching!" snarled Alfred Mortis from the open doorway of the common room.
"About time those bitches got here," muttered Rhant, sheathing his sword in the scabbard he had found for it. Rhant had discarded his tunic and breeches for more wizardly garb, black silk robes and soft black shoes. Discarding his staff for his new sword, Rhant still kept his wand in his belt, along with his many pouches of spell materials.
"Get into position, be ready when I engage them," ordered Alfred tersely before he swept out of the doorway, black cloak billowing behind him.
"Bossy old man," grumbled Rhant. He stomped to the doorway, then turned to regard Debra and her undead keeper.
"Watch the girl. Prevent her from leaving this room," commanded Rhant.
The zombie elf woman who stood against the far wall of the room nodded in acknowledgment, her eyes glazed and focused on thin air straight ahead.
Rhant closed the tavern room door, leaving Debra alone with the zombie. She glanced at the dead woman uncomfortably, rose from the floor, then walked to the bar to get a towel for her cut wrist. The zombie watched Debra vaguely, never moving while the half-elf girl took a clean towel from behind the bar counter, wrapped it around her wrist, and put pressure on it to stop the bleeding. Debra remained behind the bar, watching the zombie, holding her arm, and wondering how she could escape the nightmare into which she had been thrust.
***
It was nearing sunset when Jiri and Jana stopped to make camp. Not far in the distance, the girls could smell the pungent reek of burnt wood.
"Maybe we should keep walking to Dathorgrove, we could be there in a few hours," suggested Jana.
"No, it’s late, and I have a bad feeling about the village," replied Jiri with a deep frown.
"Okay," said Jana doubtfully before she began constructing a smokeless fire for supper. After their meal, Jana polished her Dagger of Throwing while Jiri gathered some spare clothes from her pack.
"I’m going to bathe in a small pool I saw nearby. I’ll be back soon."
Jana nodded her assent, returning to her polishing.
The lithe half-elf cleric walked away through the widely spaced trees, listening to the peaceful sounds of the forest of Cormanthor.
Jana finished her dagger polishing, sliding the blade back into its boot sheath. She was mid-way through polishing her silver short sword when Jiri returned from her bath, her waist-length red hair dripping with moisture. Jana’s eyes were drawn to Jiri’s shapely body, which was barely covered by the wet towel she had wound around her torso. Jiri’s pale white legs glistened in the firelight, just the edge of her round buttocks peeking from the bottom of the towel.
"You really did a good job constructing your character this time, Jiri," complimented Jana with a leering grin.
Jiri looked at Jana, blushing when she realized how much attention the rogue girl was giving her.
"Thank you, your persona is quite lovely as well."
"Have you ever, you know, done it with another female character?" asked Jana while she stood up and walked over to Jiri’s side of the fire.
"N…no. I’ve never had sex with other personas, I just concentrate on the game story."
"Why don’t you try it tonight? No one else is using this abandoned game node, no one will know," murmured Jana as she ran her right hand across Jiri’s bare left arm.
"I…don’t know," whispered Jiri, her wide golden eyes downcast, her face burning with embarrassment.
"I want you, Jiri," panted Jana, cupping Jiri’s left buttock.
"Please," gasped Jiri, raising her face to stare into Jana’s eyes.
Jana placed her left hand under Jiri’s chin, holding it up as she kissed the half-elf girl softly on the lips. Jiri’s lips trembled, but she did not break away. The two girls kissed softly for awhile, then their kisses became more urgent and passionate. Jiri let the towel fall from her body, revealing all of her womanly charms to the rogue. Jana planted little kisses down Jiri’s neck, then placed her mouth delicately on Jiri’s right nipple. Jiri gasped, biting her lower lip as Jana licked the pink knob, rubbing it with her tongue until it grew hard with excitement. The two girls lowered themselves to the soft grass, Jiri sitting upright with both legs outspread while Jana knelt between the elf girl’s thighs, rubbing her pussy. Jiri placed her arms behind her back to support herself, breasts thrust out, long red hair cascading like a waterfall behind her.
"Feels…good," moaned Jiri with closed eyes as Jana rubbed her throbbing clit.
"You’re so hot," purred Jana, leaning down to lick the insides of Jiri’s creamy thighs. Jana deeply inhaled the musk pouring from Jiri’s wet cunt, bringing her face next to the quivering pink slit. Jana licked from the base of Jiri’s pussy all the way to the elf girl’s engorged clitoris, nibbling on the fleshy protrusion until Jiri groaned loudly with pleasure. Jana pressed her tongue lightly inside Jiri’s pussy, just enough to taste the girl’s warm crotch lips. She began licking up and down, again and again, making Jiri’s legs grow limp, her tits heaving in ecstasy.
"Harder, fuck me harder," begged Jiri, sweat beading on her smooth forehead.
Jana buried her face in Jiri’s snatch, her tongue probing deeply into the cleric’s moist vagina. Jiri moaned, her arms trembling as they supported her body. Jana wrapped her arms around Jiri’s legs, holding them apart as she sucked loudly on her friend’s dripping cunt. She licked the outer folds of the elf girl’s labia, then briefly licked the outside of Jiri’s anus. Jiri sat forward, taking Jana’s face in both hands to kiss the aroused human girl. Jiri tasted her own cunt juices on Jana’s lips as she caressed the rogue’s tongue with her own. Jiri reclined on her back upon the ground while Jana quickly disrobed, which would allow Jana to place her own pussy over the elf girl’s face. Jiri grasped Jana’s bare hips, pulling the girl’s crotch towards her eager mouth.
Jana groaned when Jiri fastened her lips over her friend’s cunt. Jiri sucked hungrily on the naked girl’s slit, lapping her tongue up and down the smooth labia folds. The elf girl pried Jana’s buttocks apart, fingering her asshole with long, delicate digits. Jana cupped her own breasts, licking the brown nipples with her tongue, then biting them to hardness.
"Uh, so good," moaned Jana, thrusting her head back, her auburn hair sticking wetly to her bare skin. Jana ground her crotch harder against Jiri’s lovely face, forcing the elf girl’s tongue deeper into her melting fuck hole. Jiri rubbed her nose in Jana’s thickly scented pubic hair, her tongue glistening with the rogue girl’s thick honey. Jiri opened her mouth wide, covering Jana’s pussy, sucking until she had savored every drop of the naked girl’s hot cum.
"What an exciting performance," remarked Vana Lasher just before she snapped her barbed whip. Jiri choked as the vicious barbs of the whip bit into her tender neck, trapping it.
Vana yanked cruelly on her weapon, pulling Jiri out from under the shocked Jana. The rogue girl fell onto her back, but she quickly rolled into a standing position.
"Do you want the other one now?" inquired Vana as she knelt next to Jiri’s writhing body, wrapping more of her whip around the naked elf girl’s throat.
"Let her go," ordered a deep voice from the shadows.
Jana gazed worriedly at Jiri before gathering her belongings and sprinting out into the cover of the trees.
"I can have some fun with this one, want to watch?" asked Vana, her left hand squeezing Jiri’s left breast painfully.
"Yes, show me your art," smiled Azimer.
-----
[03]
Night lay over the smoldering ruins of Dathorgrove like a warm blanket. Alfred Mortis crouched at the mouth of an empty alley, cloaked under a spell of Invisibility. He held his iron battle staff in both hands, the weapon throbbing with the contained power of the lesser god Iyachtu Xvim. Alfred could just barely sense the presence of Good beings nearby, which had prompted him to warn his shaky ally Rhant and to prepare an ambush on the western side of the destroyed village, where the carnage was greatest. Hours had passed, but still the heroes had not appeared. Alfred began to daydream, his mind reveling in thoughts of domination and limitless power, the power of being the greatest mage on Faerun. Xvim had promised him greatness if he only obeyed the dread god’s commands and collected the women who held the divine power of Mystra, goddess of Magic.
Alfred was so caught up in his fantasies of power that he failed to see the billowing patch of darkness that descended from the sky and alighted on a roof across the street from his position. A brief flash of fire broke Alfred from his revelry just before the Fireball exploded around him.
The necromancer screamed as the flames licked his pale flesh. He was hurled back into the recesses of the alley, his black robes and cloak smoking. Alfred staggered to his knees, holding onto his staff for support. He invoked one of the staff’s powers, healing the painful burns upon his body. Another flash of light heralded the approach of a flaming sphere, the ball of crackling fire rolling down the alley towards the mage. Alfred jumped to the right hand side of the alley, pressing his back against the hard wooden wall. The rolling sphere sizzled past Alfred, its heat making him grimace.
Alfred peered towards the mouth of the alley, trying to spot his attacker. He found a human form draped in a flowing black cloak kneeling at the edge of a roof across from him. The human made a quick hand gesture, creating two green glowing darts that hurled directly towards Alfred. The necromancer stumbled back, vainly trying to dodge the Magic Missiles before they struck. The magical darts slammed into Alfred’s thin chest, sending spears of agony into his elderly body. Alfred doubled over in pain, his breath rasping in burning lungs. Glaring with hate, Alfred withdrew a ball of bat guano from a belt pouch and hissed the words to Fireball. He threw the ball at the stranger, watching in smug satisfaction as the ball ignited into a brief spark that blossomed into a huge sphere of flame around the top of the opposing building. The air roared with the explosion of the Fireball, the entire upper two floors of the targeted building shattering in all directions. The glare of the explosion prevented Alfred from witnessing his foe’s death, but did nothing to reduce the necromancer’s pleasure. Alfred clutched the two scorch marks on his chest, cursing the limitations of his staff that prevented him from invoking its healing powers a second time. The necromancer shambled back to the mouth of the alley, the flames of the nearby building slowly dying as they ran out of material to burn.
"Sloppy, necromancer," observed a beautiful woman dressed in a black silk dress, a bright red sash around her shapely hips. She aimed an ivory wand at Alfred, snapping out a single command word. The wand spat out three Magic Missiles that impaled the stunned mage in the belly. Alfred drooled blood as he fell limply to the street, his torso smoking from the blasts.
"What the hell?" shouted Rhant as he ran up to where Alfred lay.
"Another one?" sighed the woman before she prepared to cast a spell.
"Hey! Whoa! Wait!" exclaimed Rhant fearfully, raising his hands in surrender.
"Are you not this necromancer’s apprentice?" inquired the woman.
"He taught me a few spells, but that’s it, babe!"
"Why should I spare you?"
"Uh, I know stuff. There’s some heroes coming, the old man and I were setting a trap for them. You could take them out instead and claim their loot!"
"Ah, so that’s why Vana’s so late. Probably playing with them," muttered the red-maned woman as she knelt next to Alfred’s body.
"Help yourself," whined Rhant disapprovingly.
"Not as good as the Magick Staff, but it’ll do," smiled the sorceress, Alfred’s black iron staff held covetously in both hands.
"Uh, since we’re buddies and all, what’s your name?"
"Ravena…Ravena Nightmane," declared the sorceress proudly.
***
Jiri groaned softly, her entire naked body aching dully. She was tied to a tree, her arms wrapped around its trunk and bound at the wrists with leather cord. A second cord wrapped around her waist, pinning her against the rough bark. Jiri pressed her right cheek lightly against the tree’s skin, dreading the horrors to come.
"Loviatar, my dread goddess, accept the worship of this unworthy slave. Let this girl’s cries of pain bring you joy and grant me a place one day at your side," chanted Vana Lasher from nearby, her gloved hands clasped in prayer. The lich, Azimer, reclined against another tree, his arms folded against his restored chest.
Vana licked her red painted lips in anticipation as she uncoiled her barbed whip. Without warning she snapped it across Jiri’s bare back, cutting a bloody rent diagonally across her pale white skin. Jiri cried out in pain, her hands struggling in their tight bonds. Vana whipped the naked girl over and over, until Jiri’s back was a mess of blood and torn flesh. Jiri hung limply in her leather bonds, the cord around her waist the only thing keeping her upright. Vana purred when she lashed Jiri’s left buttock, adorning it with a red slash mark. Jiri moaned softly, her throat raw from screaming. Vana whipped Jiri’s smooth ass several times, covering it with agonizing slashes. Azimer watched in approval, his eyes burning with bloodlust as he watched the naked girl bleed against the tree she was bound upon.
Vana returned her whip to her belt, walking up to the groaning young woman. She yanked back Jiri’s head by her waist length red hair, kissing the pain-wracked girl ravenously on the mouth. The evil cleric sucked on Jiri’s sweet lower lip before ending the embrace. Vana removed a leather strip from her pouch, positioning it across Jiri’s face. Jiri’s eyes widened when she saw the long, sharp nail fastened to the middle of the mouth gag.
"No, please," begged Jiri, her lips trembling with fear.
"Accept the Kiss of Loviatar," replied Vana before she pressed the nail into Jiri’s mouth. The gag that Vana fastened around her victim's head muffled the half-elf girl's screams. The nail pierced Jiri’s tongue and rammed itself deeply into her lower jaw. Fresh tears spilled from Jiri’s eyes as blood dripped under the gag and down her chin. Vana rubbed her nose against Jiri’s neck, her right hand sliding down the girl’s skin-torn back. The priestess licked Jiri’s warm blood from her fingers, then placed her hand over Jiri’s slashed ass. She slid her fingers into Jiri’s crack, rubbing up and down the naked girl’s pussy and anus. Jiri moaned softly, her eyes closed against the pain washing across her back and mouth.
Vana removed a crotch harness from her pouch, fastening the device around her hips. She fondled the large dildo thrusting out from the harness, then she started rubbing it between Jiri’s buttocks. Jiri entwined her fingers together, preparing herself for fresh agony. Vana shoved the dildo into Jiri’s pussy with a strong thrust of her hips. Jiri groaned as Vana pumped in and out of her cunt, the dildo sliding deeply into her vagina. Jiri’s bloody buttocks rocked up and down with each violent thrust of Vana’s crotch. Vana grasped two handfuls of Jiri’s thick red hair, using them as reins while she fucked the naked girl’s tight slit. Jiri’s breasts pressed against the hard bark of the tree she was bound to, the soft flesh rubbed raw by the tree’s tough skin. Vana panted with exertion, her eyes wild with lust. She slapped more violently into Jiri’s pussy, her own cunt dripping with sticky honey. As she felt an orgasm approaching, Vana unsheathed a dagger from her belt. She held the edge of the blade against Jiri’s vulnerable throat, her cunt throbbing on the edge of ecstasy. When hot cum gushed from Vana’s pussy, she slashed Jiri’s throat, panting deeply as she felt the girl’s life drain away with her gushing blood.
"Very nice," clapped Azimer while Vana stumbled away from Jiri’s bound corpse. Vana bent over, supporting herself with hands on knees, gasping for breath after her catharsis of lust.
"Time…to…get moving," panted Vana, straightening up before she removed the dildo harness from her hips.
"Indeed. We have wasted too much time already," remarked Azimer, leaving the clearing to recover his black charger that grazed nearby.
***
Jana finished buckling the last clasp of her leather armor, checked to make sure her weapons were secure, then stood up to begin her pursuit. She tied her auburn hair into a ponytail, then sprinted through the trees nearly without sound. She returned to the clearing where Vana and her male companion had captured Jiri, but nothing remained except the embers of a dying campfire. Jana re-gathered the rest of her gear as well as Jiri’s. She searched the clearing thoroughly, finally discovering a trail leading south. She followed the trail cautiously, eventually entering a second clearing within the trees. Jiri’s dead body drew Jana’s eyes, the rogue girl whimpered softly when she beheld her mutilated friend. Jana moved to Jiri’s side, closing the dead girl’s wide eyes. She untied Jiri’s body, laying it gently upon the blood-drenched grass.
"I’m sorry," whispered Jana, hot tears sliding down her pale cheeks. She covered Jiri with a spare blanket from her pack. Jana stood up slowly, tears of loss drying to be replaced with burning, rage filled eyes.
***
The next morning was bright and warm, the sky a deep azure canopy. Ravena sat loosely in a chair, feet placed over a nearby table as she watched Rhant fuck Debra across the room. Rhant held the naked girl’s legs up in the air as he shoved himself into her raw pussy. Ravena took another sip from her mug of ale, enjoying the spectacle immensely. Alfred’s staff lay nearby, the weapon glowing with a soft green light as it too enjoyed Debra’s shame and degradation. Rhant climaxed inside Debra’s warm belly, then cleaned the tip of his member against her pink orifice.
While Rhant straightened his black robe, Ravena’s black iron staff began to glow brighter, filling the tavern common room with an intense jade light.
"Why is it doing that?" asked Rhant, shielding his eyes with his right arm.
"The Detect Good spell senses someone, my quarry, approaching," smiled Ravena before draining her mug, discarding the vessel for the intensely glowing staff.
"Damn, I was going to kill the bitch today," frowned Rhant, eyeing Debra who cowered at the far corner of the table she lay upon.
"Kill her later, we have to meet our guests," replied Ravena as she disappeared out the door.
"Watch her," ordered Rhant hastily before he ran after Ravena.
Debra took her thin torn shift from a nearby chair, sliding it over her bruised body. She shook out her blue hair, tucking it away from her pointed ears. Debra glanced at the zombie who guarded her, the dead elf woman staring at her intently. Debra thought for several moments, replaying what Rhant said again and again. Tentatively, Debra slid off the table, walking towards the open doorway. When the zombie failed to react beyond continuing to watch her, Debra smiled before shooting out through the door as fast as her slim legs could propel her.
***
"Well met, sister," smiled Ravena when she spotted Vana Lasher and Azimer from the edge of town.
"Reunited at last," grinned Vana, leaping off of the lich’s black charger to hug the fiery-maned sorceress.
"Ah, here is the young man who freed me from my prison and granted me a portion of his life," said Azimer, dismounting gracefully from his stoic horse.
"Do I know you?" inquired Rhant with a confused frown.
"Yes. Remember, the mines?" provided Azimer as he walked towards the young mage.
"What? The lich!" hissed Rhant, his eyes widening in realization.
"And now I finish taking what is mine," growled Azimer, grasping Rhant’s chest with his right hand.
"No!" screamed Rhant, his body shuddering from the lich’s life draining touch. The obsidian ring on Azimer’s finger pulsed with unholy power, drawing the young man’s essence into the lich’s corrupt frame.
"Yesss," hissed Azimer, his magically restored features contorted with obscene ecstasy.
Rhant pushed futilely on Azimer’s deceptively thin arm, then struggled for the short sword belted at his waist. Drawing the weapon swiftly, Rhant plunged the sword into Azimer’s chest. Azimer roared in agony, the blade flaring with blood-red radiance.
"Die, bastard!" spat Rhant, twisting the sword within the lich’s torso.
Azimer clawed the blade impaled within his chest, his arms growing weak with approaching death.
"I…will…not die…alone," gasped Azimer, withdrawing a black pearl from a belt pouch.
"Stop him!" shouted Ravena, recognizing the spell component.
Azimer crushed the black pearl in his hand, using the last of his magic to cast the awful spell. A cloud of glowing purple vapor exploded from the pearl, expanding out to fill the street. Rhant staggered away from Azimer, freed from the now dead lich’s grasp. He covered his mouth with both hands, his eyes becoming large with astonishment. Purple vapor collected around Rhant, smothering him with deadly magic. The dying mage reached out to the two women with his right hand, his flesh becoming dry and wrinkled. Rhant fell to the street, his body now a withered husk, his eyes nothing but empty sockets.
"Vana!" shouted Ravena as the purple vapor overcame her.
"Ravena, no!" replied Vana, watching helplessly while Ravena was slain by the enchanted vapor the same way as Rhant.
Vana backed away from the glowing cloud as it slowly broke apart. She stared at the corpse of her companion Ravena, the once beautiful wizard nothing more than a dry husk over bones. Consumed with loss, Vana was oblivious to anything else until Jana's silver short sword stabbed her in the back. Vana screeched in agony, wrenching herself forward away from the impaling blade. Jana held onto her sword as Vana pulled away, then she charged the evil cleric. Vana drew her dagger, slicing it in a wide arc. The glistening steel cut Jana’s right leather sleeve, biting lightly into her flesh. Jana glanced at the burning wound, recognizing the dread sensation of poison flowing into her bloodstream.
"I won’t let you win this time, Moonbeam! I’ll see you rot first!" spat Vana, drool leaking out of her mouth.
The two young women circled each other, gauging each other’s defenses. Snake swift, Vana uncoiled her whip, lashing out with a loud snap. The barbs bit into Jana’s right arm, making her sword hand numb with pain. Jana dropped her sword into her left hand, thrusting outwards with it. Vana screamed when the cold steel slid into her stomach. The cleric tried to cast a spell, but lost the magic when Jana twisted the blade inside her. Jana’s vision blurred, the poison in her blood making its way to her heart.
"The poison is doing its work well," giggled Vana, blood sliding from her lips. "We go to Hell together!"
Vana slowly released hold of her whip, falling to her knees, then collapsing onto her back. Jana untangled herself from the barbed weapon, tripping onto her buttocks. Sweat gathered on the rogue’s brow, her breathing became labored and weak. Jana fell backwards, arms outstretched limply.
"So this is death," observed Jana, smiling wanly as the darkness consumed the sun and sky.
***
Debra was standing over Jana when the rogue awoke. The lovely thief sat up, then glanced at her right arm, which had a bandage wrapped around it.
"How?" stammered Jana, amazed to be alive.
"I found a jar of ointment in your gear. I used some on your arm wounds, then I wrapped a bandage over them all," replied Debra proudly.
"Jiri’s ointment," murmured Jana, remembering when Jiri had went shopping for healing magic.
"Are you okay?" inquired Debra.
"Yes, I am," smiled Jana, allowing the elf girl to help her to her feet. She looked at all the dead bodies around her, then turned to regard the elf waiting expectantly.
"Let’s find you a new home," suggested Jana.
"Thank you!" grinned Debra, hugging the thief happily around the waist.
END PROGRAM
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