A Hero Emerges

This is PART 2 of the Literotica original by Jmanchu, A Ballad of Light and Darkness which features the chapters 3 to 6 of the book. As a story where wars are a major part of the setting expect bloody battles, wars, savage duels, political intrigue, assassinations, etc. There will be violent content throughout the entirety of the story. Themes of assault and non-con, fended off or otherwise, will be there as well. Be warned.

"Barkeep! I said another round for us!" A drunken soldier called out from a table of his rowdy compatriots. He waved around an empty mug. "We're out of mead! And bring some food already! We're starving!"

"Millie! Help your old man out!" Gerard, the tavern owner, an old overweight man in a barkeeper's apron, held out two pitchers. They were freshly filled with drinks from the barrel, "I'm going to check on the fowl, it should be almost ready."

"Ugh," A redhead with long hair and a barmaid's dress grabbed the pitcher and groaned. She looked at the drunken patrons who sat around tables of dark wood. The lingering scent of cooked meats and the light haze of tobacco smoke filled the air of the humble Frischian tavern of aging white plaster, and wood panel floors. The atmosphere was alive with the drunken chatter of the regulars.

"Less attitude, girl! There, off you get!" The old tavern owner shooed the barmaid away as he went off to the tavern kitchen.

Millie grumbled as she made her way over to the soldiers at the corner of the tavern. The five of them were laughing obnoxiously from one of their crude jokes as she stood by their table. The barmaid quietly held out the pitcher and refilled their drinks.

"Just about time, love! We been dyin' o' thirst here waitin'!" A blond man slurred as his compatriots joined in laughter. He took his glass and drank. Mead spilled all over his chin and uniform as he held his mug high.

"Will that be all, sirs?" Millie hid her disgust with her usual professional smile.

"'Will that be all,' she says," The drunk looked around chuckling as his companions all drank from their mugs. "Hey, why not join us, yeah?"

"Uh, thank you, but I really must get back to work," The barmaid clutched the pitcher tightly to her chest.

"Get back to work? Doin' what? Standing around lookin' bored outta your mind all night, love?" Laughter erupted from the table. "Come on. We know you been workin' real hard for your dear daddy. Take a break and let's get to know each other. We got plenty o' drink to share."

"I'm sorry, but I have to-- Eek!" Millie turned to walk away but was suddenly yanked from behind. She fell down with a squeal as her backside landed on the drunken man's lap.

"Whoopsie! Girl, you got to watch your-- Ow! Fucking hell!" The drunk soldier took a violent elbow to his face for his troubles. He pushed the squirming girl away from him. His drunken friends exploded in hysterics as blood pooled down from his nose.

"Ooo! Look out! She got claws on her!" The other drunks couldn't contain their mirth as they pounded the table, to the displeasure of the soldier, "You were saying about her eyin' you, Marcus?"

"What's going on here?" Millie's father walked in by his daughter who ran over and hid behind him.

The barmaid screamed, "That pig attacked me, pa! I was defending myself!" She glared and pointed at the drunken blond soldier as she stepped out to her father's side.

"Oi. That's not true. I was jus' bein' friendly, you lyin' whore,"The soldier stood up tall, his huge frame towering over the both of them as he held his bloody nose. "You're dear daddy, yeah? Look a' what your little girl did. I think some compensation is due, yeah?"

"Don't you call my daughter a whore," Old man Gerard stepped forward and pointed to the exit of his tavern. "Take your friends and get your sorry asses out of my tavern! Now!"

The drunk soldier seized and then slammed the old man against the table behind him. The other patrons in the vicinity fled their chairs as food and drink was sent flying and crashing to the floor. Marcus pushed back and wound himself ready to throw a wild haymaker. The old man tackled the soldier into the table of his friends. Immediately, the soldier's compatriots all jumped in and pulled the old man away from their friend. Millie screamed as they lifted and slammed her father to the floor in front of her. The entire tavern that was filled with noise and life moments before was now quiet as everyone there watched the altercation.

"You ever seen a man ripped in two? Heads ripped off shoulders? Men gettin' their entrails pulled out, eaten alive by demons? Have you any idea o' the hell we live through for you all!?" the wild-eyed soldier screamed at the old man as he was held up by the arms from the others. Marcus struck Old Man Gerard in the stomach who groaned and slumped as he fell once more onto the floor. The drunken soldier grabbed the screaming barmaid as she rushed to her father. "We are the ones that save you ungrateful pricks from the devils an' nightmares that stalk King Byron's lands. We keep the peace! Us! We take arrows, swords, spears puttin' down bandits, rebels an' anyone else that threatens this kingdom! For you! An' we die keeping those evil dark elf bastards out of Frischia! All we ask-- Oof!"

Marcus doubled over as Millie's foot shot up in between his legs with a solid impact to his crotch. As he stumbled, he pointed at Millie. "Hold her."

"Don't you bastards touch her!" Gerard struggled to stand up, but one of the other soldiers struck a hard blow to his head. He flopped back down limp.

"No! Pa!" cried Millie as the men pinned her down against a table. She squirmed against their hold on her and screamed desperately. "Help! Someone!"

"I'll teach you what happens to bad little... Huh?" Marcus and everyone turned their attention to an inebriated young man with shaggy dark brown hair who approached them. He slung his arm up onto the large soldier's shoulder and held an empty mug with his other hand.

"Hey, I'm out of mead. Get me a damn refill, barkeep." The young man waved his mug around. His accent gave him away as a Leonian, "And I want food."

Marcus shoved away the young man. "We're in the middle of something. Fuck off."

The Leonian man's stance slightly wobbled from his apparent drunken haze, still holding his mug as he looked around. "Hey. Get me a damn refill and food!"

Everyone stared for a good silent minute in wonder of the peculiar sight before them. Marcus smirked and grabbed a nearby mug of mead. "Hey! The man wants a refill! Let's help 'im out."

The other soldiers surrounded the drunk Leonian who seemed oblivious to the danger around him. Marcus, towering over the young man, grabbed the Leonian and poured mead like a waterfall across his face. "There you go, friend... Now you said you needed food, right?"

The soldier grabbed food from the floor and smashed it against the poor man's face. A laughing fit from all the soldiers erupted as the man spat the mush out. Millie whimpered and closed her eyes. I hate this! Someone... Please...!

Marcus grinned in self-satisfaction. "Now you're all fed up, so kindly fuck off, friend." The blond soldier pushed the young man. "Wait... What's that you got there?"

Marcus stared at a silver necklace that hung off the Leonian's neck. He picked at the amulet as the man stood there. "I've seen that symbol before. That's a symbol for the old Griffon's Order. Thing is s'posed to have some magic in it too. An' that's a real nice lookin' sword on your hip too. So who'd you rob to get all that, Leonian friend? Not enough that you cowards lost your homes, so now you come here as filthy refugees to steal from the good folk here, eh? Leonian friend?"

"Hey. I'll deal with them, alright?" The Leonian called out to Millie.

"Huh?" Millie couldn't help but keep her eyes on the strange man who looked straight at her. "S-sure?"

"Oi! You hear that!? The Leonian bastard said all serious-like that he'll deal wit' us, boys!" Marcus looked around, amused. "Fancy yourself a hero, friend?"

"I think you might'a rattled his head a bit when you fed 'im, Marcus," One of the soldiers called out as they all guffawed.

"The Leonian prick is still looking a little hungry to me!" More laughter came from the soldiers.

Millie couldn't help but note the athletic tone underneath the young Leonian warrior's tunic as Marcus aggressively drove his finger against his chest.

The blond soldier snarled as he jabbed the Leonian's shoulder, "Go on, yeah? Deal with me. Let's see-- Aii!"

A loud, unpleasant pop cut through the tavern; Marcus shuffled back and wrestled his finger away from the sudden grip of the Leonian as he let him go. The drunk soldier held his injured finger gingerly. It was bent and twisted in a grotesque and very wrong way. "Oh gods! Oh gods! You son of a bitch!"

"Get the bastard!" One of the soldiers screamed.

The group took that moment as their cue to charge, but their adversary jumped with surprising speed away from them. The Leonian threw his mug into the face of the nearest one who cried out and fell back as the glass cracked and bounced off his head.

The second rushed straight in. He dropped from a lightning quick left and right punch combo to the temple and the chin before the Leonian warrior vaulted over the table behind him to avoid being surrounded by the two soldiers still closing in. The two other soldiers looked at each other as they stopped. They started to move around cautiously on each side to flank the man.

"Shit! Shit! Oh! You fucked up! You have no idea..." Marcus trembled with fury. He groaned as he set his finger back in place. He carefully flexed his hand to check its mobility then unsheathed his sword. "You have no idea who you're fuckin' with!"

The other two soldiers followed suit by drawing their blades after they looked back at Marcus. The young Leonian warrior carefully eyed the three men approaching him as he assessed the situation.

"You're dead!" Marcus screamed as his three remaining compatriots charged in.

The Leonian threw a random nearby mug at one of the soldiers who ducked in time under a table, then he kicked a chair to block the path of the other who tripped and hit the ground with a crashing thud. As the fallen soldier tried to stand he took a hard kick that whipped his head back violently, then he rolled on the floor with a groan as the young warrior hopped over him.

"Damn it! What are you idiots doin'!? I said get the Leonian bastard!" Marcus screamed in frustration as he pushed around the tables and chairs obstructing his path between him and the Leonian bastard humiliating his men.

The other soldier had managed to catch up to the young warrior.

He gave a furious battle cry as he thrust his sword at him. "Bastard!" The soldier screamed.

The Leonian warrior, in one skilled maneuver, dodged the blade and closed in to throw his opponent over his shoulder in a brilliant display of twisting wrestling technique. The flying soldier screamed bloody murder as his back crashed through one of the chairs nearby with a loud bang. Splintered wood flew from the destroyed furniture as he fell silent.

"No... No! This aint right!" Marcus hesitated. "You...! Stay back!" Marcus stumbled backwards, as the young warrior casually walked towards him. He looked around desperately as he held his arms out. His eyes fell on the trembling barmaid who knelt down next to the old man. Marcus grabbed her; she shrieked as he pointed his blade at her throat. "Another step and I stick the little lady in front of her dear daddy." The soldier gave a vicious sneer as Millie cried out in terror. "Let's slow down an' talk. Yeah?"

The young warrior stopped. "Thought you're supposed to protect the peace."

As Marcus held the poor screaming girl, he growled, "Shut up. Get on the ground. Don't fuckin' move, don't even breathe unless I say you can."

The young man smiled at the barmaid as he reassured her, "Hey, everything's going to be alright. I'll take care of him quickly for you. Just you wait."

"P-please! I don't want to die!" Millie cried out desperately as she held onto her attacker's arm.

Marcus screamed, "Don't you fucking ignore me!" He pressed his sword against the squealing barmaid's throat.

The young warrior whispered something and made a few strange gestures with his right hand.

Marcus started, "Hey! I said--!" A bright ball of fire flew out of nowhere and engulfed his head. He let go of the barmaid and screamed in burning agony as he swatted at his face. Then a sudden force came, as if a giant hand slapped the entire front of his body with a violent hurricane of air that surrounded him as he rag-dolled helplessly in disorienting vertigo across the tavern.

Marcus coughed out a drop of blood and groaned, "Shit...!" His body ached and his head spun as he struggled to get his bearings. The soldier's vision blurred and doubled as everything around him seemed to move. He strained himself as he pushed back against the wall he was pinned against. Except it was the tavern floor. The soldier groaned as he tried to focus his rolling eyes. He found his sword near him. "Damned bastard..." He grunted as he started his effortful crawl to his weapon. Marcus screamed as his hand was stomped by the foot of the warrior who now stood over him.

The Leonian warrior looked down at the beaten soldier. "That's far enough."

As the warrior kicked away the soldier's sword, Marcus screamed, "You... you think you'll get away with this? Oh... I'll be rememberin' your face, you Leonian prick. I'll make you fuckin' pay!"

The young warrior grabbed his sheathed sword by the hilt as Marcus barely managed to stand up. The blond soldier fell more than once as he stumbled away towards the tavern entrance. "This isn't over!"

The Leonian stretched his arms as he walked over to the barmaid and her father who groaned as he came to.

"You alright?" asked the warrior.

Millie nodded her head meekly and asked, "Are you... a wizard?"

"Am I one of those pretentious peacocks that hide from the world with their stuffy noses in their books all day? In their ivory towers? No." The warrior raised a brow with a smirk as he scratched his clean-shaven chin. "How's your father?"

"Oh..." Millie shyly answered as she stared at the fascinating young man before her. On closer inspection, his boyish face was very handsome. Were it not for his voice, the hardened look in his brown eyes, the masculine brow, and fit body she would have thought him to be younger. The man's proud and strong stance, and the way he swung his shoulders and moved with natural power and authority were admirable. His notable presence impressed on her the image of a gallant knight straight from the grand tales of heroes she had imagined as a child. "Um..." She blushed.

Old man Gerard grumbled and held his head as he squinted in discomfort, "Ow... My head... What happened...? Millie...?" His eyes shot open with worry as he frantically sat up and placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Millie! Are you alright!? They didn't... hurt you?"

Millie shook her head and hugged her father as she whimpered. "I was so scared..." Tears formed in her eyes as she broke down crying.

"It's alright..." whispered Gerard as he held his trembling daughter. "Thank the gods you're not hurt..." After a few moments of their firm embrace, the old man looked at the young warrior who stood with his arms crossed. "And you are?"

Millie glanced at the young man and lowered her head. "He saved me, Pa. If this kind man had not been here, I would've been..."

"Don't think about it," Gerard kissed his daughter's forehead and pulled her in for another embrace. "You're safe. That's all that matters."

The anxious and excited whispering of the patrons that still were around filled the tavern.

"Did you see that?"

"Oi. What will King Byron think if he hears about this?"

"That drunken jackass? He'd rather gorge himself with booze and food."

"Careful with that talk! You'll get the whipping post if the wrong person hears you, fool!

"Of all the days to get a drink..."

"Don't force yourself." The Leonian helped Millie with keeping her father steady as the old man stood up with effort.

"I'm fine. Been through worse in my younger days," Old man Gerard groaned. He casually brushed off the Leonian and his daughter. "What I'm worried about is what I'm going to do with all this. One hell of a mess you've left here for me to clean."

"Well, I did try to keep things as orderly as I could while I saved you and your daughter," The young Leonian cleared his throat.

The old man sighed, "No, you're right. I shouldn't hold this over your head. Thank you for saving my daughter. I wouldn't--"

"Go to hell, you Leonian bastard!" One of the soldiers had gotten up without anyone noticing and charged at them with a sword in hand.

Millie screamed as the Leonian warrior pushed her and Old Man Gerard away from the path of the charging soldier. As he fell into stance, ready to brandish his blade, the soldier suddenly collapsed in front of him as an ear-splitting crash blew through the tavern.

"I've been looking for you, fool," A stout dwarf with a gravelly voice and a fiery-red beard looked at the Leonian. He held a half-broken chair as he casually pushed the limp soldier aside with his foot. "I keep my eyes off of you for one second and you're already getting into bar brawls? If you were going to cause trouble, you might as well have stayed back. Have you forgotten that we are here to be diplomatic?"

"Told you I was hungry and needed a drink. Couldn't last another week of your burnt cooking, Jarn," The Leonian relaxed his posture. "And they were the ones who started the trouble."

"Cooking that I make for your ungrateful ass," Jarn grumbled. The dwarf looked at Gerard and his daughter and took out a small bag. "Sorry for the trouble my friend caused. I hope this is enough to cover for the damages."

"No, this isn't necessary, you don't..." Old Man Gerard pushed back the bag at first, but his mouth hung open as he saw the contents inside. The light glimmering off the precious stones within the bag danced splendidly as they reflected the torchlight of the tavern. "I mean, if you insist, I guess no harm."

Jarn looked at the Leonian. "So have you finished your business here, boy?"

The warrior looked at the tavern keeper and his daughter, then at the incapacitated soldiers around him and lifted a brow. "I guess."

"Wait. I'd feel awful if I didn't at least give something as gratitude for saving us," spoke Old Man Gerard.

"We really must--"

"I insist," Old Man Gerard nodded, then turned to Millie. "Girl! The fowl should still be warm, could you go to the kitchen and get some for our guests here before they leave? May I ask your name, warrior?"

Millie stopped in her tracks, eager to hear the name of her savior.

"I'm Dante, son of Corrin of Azure Valley," responded the Leonian warrior.

Liara casually made her way across the outer parts of the palace harem bathhouse floors of polished marble and bamboo panels. She wore a sheer dark-elven bathrobe that barely went down to her soft upper thighs. Her smooth, healthy skin glowed, glistening from a fresh coating of fine aromatic oils. As she entered the doorway of the inner baths reserved for royalty she stopped as a tall, slender dark elf woman with shining dark violet skin stood in front of her.