A Paladin's Journey Ch. 04

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A Growing Shadow.
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Part 4 of the 20 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 01/26/2018
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Antidarius
Antidarius
1,053 Followers

A PALADIN'S JOURNEY - CHAPTER FOUR: A Growing Shadow

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First Draft of Chapter Four - hope you enjoy!

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***MALOTH - War Camp on the Ergar Plain, just North of Amindaer City***

The frenzied orgy had lasted long into the night and then into the early hours of the morning. Bodies of all different shapes and sizes, spent and naked and glistening with sweat, lay atop the lavish furs carpeting the tent floor, strewn about wherever they had collapsed. Even Shenla looked grateful for a rest, lying next to Maloth on the massive bed, one rose-skinned thigh draped over his legs and her head on his chest. Resting or no, her hand still idly stroked his cock, and her midnight-purple eyes flashed greedily as she watched her fingers caress the length of crimson flesh.

Resting was the last thing on Maloth's mind. Since Binding the Orc Chieftess Morana last night, he felt he had reach a new level entirely. His thoughts had sharpened, as had his purpose, and raw power flowed through his veins, barely contained. He thought he might be able to face a hundred or more foes at once, like this, though he was loath to attempt that unless absolutely necessary. Only a fool took risks without need.

Today would be an important day. With Beshok under Shenla's spell - his will would slowly erode a little more each time he tasted Shenla's charms - and Morana's soul Bound to Maloth, the Orcs were now under his command, or close enough as didn't matter. Morin's uses had reached their end, as had Berenor's; Maloth wanted their armies, and he had them now.

Queen Morin Veskash, Mistress of the Grave and ruler of the Wardens of Angavar, lay sprawled on the floor of the tent among the jumble of bodies, drying come leaking from every orifice and liberally coating her pale nudity. She stared blankly at the canvas ceiling, idly caressing the half-hard cock of Shenla's Torvin, who lay next to her. Many of the men in the tent had had their time with Morin, and she had taken them all willingly. There was little left to Morin now but an empty shell driven by lust. Similarly, King Berenor of the Dark Elves of Eredor lay on his back, his white-haired black head resting on Glinda's mammoth bosom. The comely Dwarf was passed out where she lay, her plump thighs spread wide. Berenor's ebony cock was still hard; he would have little control left over his desires, having been exposed to Shenla too many times, and he would literally fuck till he dropped dead, as would Morin. Yes, Maloth had no further need for these two.

Instructions had already been given to the Morgai, who had joined the orgy for a time before leaving, much to the disappointment of many of the revelers. Baelor and Shaelor were impressive, stunningly attractive and always ready to fuck, but once their energies were charged from the sex, they had left to perform the task Maloth had set them.

"What are you thinking, brother?" Shenla said softly, tilting her pretty face up to his.

Maloth had not yet told her the details of today's plan, but she was quick; she had probably already caught on. Maloth did not trust anybody who was not under his direct control, but Shenla was different. She was his blood. "I'm looking forward to the next few hours, sister." When Shenla raised a curious eyebrow, he added, "For today, I'm starting a war."

***

Anduriel ghosted through the scrub. His Elven feet, clad in soft leather boots, made no sound on the damp forest floor, even when he stepped on a dead twig or lightly brushed a bush or fern. Shadowing him, barely visible in the undergrowth, were four of his best scouts, two men and two women whom had served him well in the past. The orders had come from Velesande two days gone, direct from King Caeledrin. "Find the army camped on the Ergar Plain and observe as much as possible before returning with all haste."

Anduriel wondered about those orders, though his job was to obey, not question, his king. Was Caeledrin planning to start a war, or avoid one? Abruptly the trees finished and the plains began, thick-trunked pine and fir and oak and elm giving way to knee-high grass, swaying gently in the breeze. Above the green plain rode a black sky roiling with thunderheads, lightning frequently stabbing down at the earth below. Anduriel didn't need his Elvish senses to know this storm was unnatural. It seemed to centre over the Plain, though the rest of Palistair was not spared from its regular lashings. Anduriel would not be surprised if these dark clouds now covered the whole of the island.

His scouts waited silently behind him, and he turned to them, pulling his cowl forward and his cloak close before dashing out onto the Plain. They mirrored him, their green cloaks changing colour slightly to better match the grass of the Plain. There were no trees for cover out here, bar the occasional stand here and there, but Anduriel and his party wouldn't need them; they were the best in Laefandell, and could near enough hide in plain sight when required.

After an hour or so, he came to a skidding halt, dropping low into the grass to stare ahead. Two figures stood not fifty paces away, staring in his direction. The male was tall and almost as muscular as an Orc, with pale grey skin decorated with angular black runes. He wore nothing but a confident smile on his handsome face, and in place of eyes he had glowing orange-red orbs. The female was identical in colour and markings, a statuesque creature, looking both fit and distractingly well-curved. Titanic breasts rested proudly on her chest, and she stood with a hand on a cocked hip, her full lips curved in a smile that said she knew exactly what she looked like, and she wanted people to see.

What were these creatures? They certainly weren't Men, though they looked similar in many ways. Perhaps they were Risen? Had the Wardens discovered some new dark magic that could make these powerful-looking beings? And why were they naked? Not certain he'd been seen, Anduriel made a quick motion behind him, signaling his scouts to circle around the strangers. If this turned to a fight, he wanted the advantage.

"You may as well stand, Elf," the big man boomed, his bass voice easily carrying despite the wind blowing the other way. "We know you're there."

"Let us have a look at you," the women purred. Despite his mistrust, Anduriel felt himself hardening as he eyed her lush body. 'Stop being a fool!' He scolded himself. With a grimace, he stood, holding his arms out to the sides and his hands open to show he was not holding any weapons.

"State your business, little Elf," the man said, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Anduriel. Lightning struck with a loud bang nearby, but nobody flinched. A small grassfire started, but quickly went out; the grass was too damp to burn.

"As you can see, I am a lone traveler," Anduriel lied. "I'm bound for Amindaer, to seek shelter during these dark days."

The woman's smile broadened as she swayed toward him, her long legs covering the space quickly. Her breasts moved appealingly in time with her ample hips as she walked, and Anduriel felt another spike of lust. She stopped inches away, tall enough that she was looking down at him slightly. She radiated desire. Heat seemed to pour from her, inflaming him. His hands ached to touch her body, which rivalled that of Velesande, or even Queen Ellerion. Anduriel blinked, trying to clear his head, but his thoughts were coming slowly and his breeches were painfully tight. When had he gotten hard? Suddenly the woman's lips were on his, and Anduriel heard himself moaning into her mouth.

'No!' A voice screamed in his head. 'This is not right! She must be using magic!' With a struggle, he took hold of himself and pulled free of her lips, shoving her away by the shoulders and whipping his bow off his back. He had an arrow knocked a heartbeat later. "What are you?" He demanded. He had not given the command for his companions to attack, yet, but that was only a quick whistle away.

The beautiful creature smiled languidly. "I am perhaps the most perfect being ever created, as is my brother." She waved a hand back toward where the male was still standing. Her eyes shifted toward his bow, to where the arrow was aimed at her chest. She had no pupils in those caverns of fire, but Anduriel could somehow sense where she was focusing.

Anduriel didn't see her move; rather there was a sense of motion, and suddenly his bow was gone and he was flying backwards. He landed on his back with a thud, his breath leaving his body in a rush. Before he could scramble up, a weight settled across his hips, and strong hands pushed his shoulders back to the ground. The woman was straddling his waist, looking down at him with a predatory cast to her face, her angular black runes flashing fiery red. Her heavy breasts hung down, the dark nipples dragging against the fabric of his tunic. Frantically, he struggled, but it was like being pinned beneath a boulder. Swiveling his head, he tried to look around for his team, but the high grass blocked his view.

A sultry laugh brought his attention back to the woman, who was grinding her hips down against the hardness in his trousers. Why was he so hard? Had he lost all control over his body? He curled his tongue in preparation to whistle, but suddenly his mouth was covered by hers, and he felt himself melting under her searing kiss. Slowly his awareness of the world began to grow dim, and the last thing he heard before losing consciousness was the sounds of his friends screaming.

***

***ARAN - Temple Sura, Ekistair***

Kedron sat up in his bed as Aran, Smythe, Elaina and Amina marched into his simple quarters, his eyes bugging as he took in the forms of the two women in their loosely-tied robes. The room was more than large enough for one person to live comfortably enough, but with five people it was somewhat cramped. Standing, he self-consciously covered his privates and offered an awkward bow. "Uh, how can I be of service, Priestess and Paladins?"

Amina chuckled warmly, and Elaina echoed. "Relax, Kedron," the Priestess soothed. "At ease."

With a grateful nod, the young Gifted sat back on his bed and drew the covers over his lap. It was strange to see him so awkward, especially after the orgy in the bath chamber only a few days gone, but Aran had given him a little nudge that day, to help him along. Now, he probably felt more than a little overawed by the four Arohin crowding his room.

"We came to ask you a few questions," Elaina said gently. "We need to know everything you can tell us about the Heralds."

Kedron frowned for a moment, as if conflicted, then finally nodded. "I'll tell you what I know."

"We know he is your father," Aran began. "But Berrigan is dangerous. Not just to us, but to the people of Ironshire as well. You saw how he treated Smythe, and how he has no doubt treated you."

A sad look crossed the young man's face. "I just wanted him to accept me, so I did everything he asked of me, and I never questioned him. At least until I met Master Smythe." Kedron went on to tell what it was like being raised by a devout Herald. Memorising the centuries-old precepts, daily rituals of faith, maintaining utter secrecy lest anyone find out who was not meant to, and even piercing one's own skin with a needle every time one felt lust! Kedron even opened the palms of his hands to show the pinprick scars there, though they would be healing now that he had access to his Gift. It was no wonder the Heralds were the way they were, if they were all raised like this!

"We're not all raised through bloodline," Kedron explained in response to Aran's question. "Most of us are, but some men and women are foolish enough to seek out the Heralds and join them. From what I heard from father, they must perform a rite of passage called a 'Cleansing.'" He shuddered. "Father never spoke of the details, but he said it does produce some of the most effective Heralds. Those that make it through, anyway."

"What would happen to your father's status as a High Herald if it became known that his only son was Gifted?" Aran asked quietly.

"I'm not sure," Kedron replied. "I don't know that he would be punished, but at the very least, he would be shamed deeply. He may even step down from the Council, especially if his peers see him as lowered."

Aran looked to the others. "It's a start," Smythe said.

"What was your father's plan, Kedron?" Amina asked. "What are the Heralds actually trying to achieve in the West?" It was a good question. Aran wished he had have thought of it himself.

"He didn't tell me everything," Kedron said honestly. "But I think they want to make the West into their lands. Forge their own nation. They have Ironshire, and they almost have Maralon, as I understand it. Wouldn't be too hard for them to sweep up the coastal towns from there, Human or otherwise."

Everyone nodded thoughtfully. Something Kedron said piqued Aran's attention. "About that," he asked. "Are Heralds always Human?"

Kedron nodded ruefully. "Always. I was ever instructed never to trust Elf or Dwarf or anyone that wasn't Human. I made friends with an Elf once, and when father found out I was soundly beaten for it."

Elaina sat on the bed next to Kedron and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. The lad's face reddened as he looked at her, but he smiled gratefully through the blush. "I'm so glad we found you," she told him warmly. "You're going to make an amazing Paladin."

"Well, there's one upside," Aran murmured to himself. When the others all looked at him, he explained. "They're not likely to turn to the Dwarves or Elves for help, and the chances are that they've offended them at some point in history, which means we have potential allies there."

"Yes," Amina agreed. "The Elves will most certainly help us, and the Dwarves will still remember Edellein's work in Dun'Arghol." Her sapphire eyes took on a faraway look, as if she were seeing things the others couldn't. "But Aran, you're talking about war, aren't you?"

Aran nodded grimly. "It will take time to gather the forces we'll need, during which the Heralds will also be recruiting and fortifying, but we cannot afford to face two foes at once. Something dark stirs to the North, growing stronger every day, and my great-father's progeny are at the centre of it. The Heralds must be put down so we can focus on the greater threat before it's too late."

The room went quiet. There had been fighting, so far, and killing where necessary, but war? As much as he hated the idea, Aran didn't see any other way. Even if Berrigan did step down, there were still plenty more Heralds pulling the strings. "We are safe here at the Temple," Aran said firmly. "As long as it remains forgotten. We will discuss best plans later tonight, but nobody is to leave the Temple without my permission until further notice."

The others all nodded, Amina eyeing him appraisingly. This was the first time Aran had taken direct command over the Priestess, but she offered no argument.

"There's, um, one more thing I should mention," Kedron began nervously. "There's someone in Ironshire, who, um, is special to me."

Aran stepped forward, his stomach twisting. He already knew what the boy was going to say. "Who is she?"

Kedron swallowed, but met Aran's eyes. "She is my lover. I, um, used to see her in secret. Father doesn't know. I, uh, think I may have Bonded her, like in the way you all talk about sometimes."

Aran stared back at Kedron. For a moment, he was angry with the apprentice, but no, it wasn't Kedron's fault.

Taking a chair next to the bed, Elaina looked sad, and she squeezed Kedron's shoulder as his chin dropped in shame. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything before," he said quietly. "I didn't realise it was important until right now."

"Relax, lad," Smythe said gently. "You weren't to know."

"Can you sense her now?" Aran asked insistently.

Kedron nodded. "She's somewhere to the southeast - probably Ironshire - and she's scared, but as far as I know, she's not hurt. Can we help her?"

That question cut Aran deeply. He hated leaving anyone to the Heralds, especially a Meldin, but he also had to consider the safety of everyone else at the Temple.

Smythe caught Aran's gaze. "If Berrigan even suspects..."

Aran agreed to the unspoken suggestion. "I know. He'll find her, and make her tell him where Kedron is." Kedron groaned softly, and Aran turned back to the apprentice. "How likely is it that your father had you watched from time to time?"

"Knowing him, I would say that's very likely," the lad responded, slapping a palm to his head in frustration. "I can't believe I didn't think of that before! It's exactly the sort of thing he would do!"

"Very well," Aran said, thinking quickly. "Kedron, we need to get you out of the Temple right away. Pack everything you'll need for a long journey; it might be some time before we're back. Elaina, go fetch me Induin and Liaren; I need to see them now." Elaina leaped from the bed and hurried from the room, and Kedron stood and began stuffing things into a satchel, apparently forgetting all about his nudity. "Smythe, go talk to Rayna, Bella and Jeira; I want to know if there's anyone in Ironshire that can be trusted. Preferably someone not Human. The Heralds are less likely to use non-Human spies." Smythe nodded and dashed off.

That left Aran and Amina staring at each other while Kedron pottered about, trying to pull breeches on while still packing. "Looks like it's time to leave again," he said to the Priestess with a small smile. "I apologise for assuming command, I meant no disrespect."

Amina stepped up to him, her soft, full breasts pressing against his chest. "There is no apology required, Aran. You are leading us, as it is meant to be." Her slim hands held his face as she pushed her lips against his. Aran's hands held her waist just above the flare of her hips, the silk of the robe somehow feeling far coarser than her actual skin. Suddenly a delicious smile curved her full lips. "Have you any commands for me, by any chance?" Her tonality left no question as to what 'commands' she was referring to, and her question was punctuated by a bitten-off curse from Kedron as he stumbled over his half-worn breeches.

Aran grinned and pulled her closer. "There are several, though I doubt we have time for you to fulfill them right now."

After a moment, her perfect face became serious. "Take care out there, Aran. And come back to us." She kissed him again, this time with more fervor, and Aran returned it.

Long moments later, someone cleared their throat ostentatiously. Unsealing his lips from Amina's, Aran turned to see Induin and Liaren standing in the doorway, looking as gorgeous as ever. Especially clad in their translucent robes. Kedron was now nowhere to be seen. "Are we interrupting something?" Induin asked as she twirled a lock of her silvery hair. Her sky-blue eyes twinkled as she regarded him.

"Or perhaps we were missing out on something?" Liaren said, mirroring her twin sister's tone and actions, though her hair was chestnut-brown and her eyes a striking green.

"Good, you're here," Aran said, turning Amina's embrace and giving his two Elvish Meldin a smile.

"If you have nothing for me at this time," Amina said almost formally. "I must go check on Sara." At Aran's nod, she gave them all a warm smile and flowed from the room, every eye turning to watch as her bottom swayed out the door.

Aran was a little taken aback at Amina's show of what had to be near-deference, but he had no time to dwell on that now. He gave Induin and Liaren the short version of recent events, and then asked them for what he needed. "Do you think it will work?"

The twins eyed each other, then him. They nodded as one. "The Elves think well of the eruchen," Liaren said confidently.

Antidarius
Antidarius
1,053 Followers