Guild Wars Ch. 01

Hello, readers! I have a passion for erotic literature and when I got this urge, I crossed my mind and wrote what is now on your screen. I desperately need an editor. The story is a long one (so I've intended), but will only be continued if it gets some response from your side. It means a lot.

So PLEASE comment!

All the plots and characters are the imagination of my mind and any resemblance to real life is likely to be coincidental.

Anyway, thank you and enjoy.

Chapter 1: Living the Future

The black Lamborghini coursed down the D. Front street. It was far from home in a hostile district, Aslon, the home of the blood mages. Two dark SUV's followed its trail silently. It halted before a skyscraper, popularly known as 'The Blood Trail'. Or more commonly, refereed as the headquarters of the prominent group of Aslon.

The doors opened in both sides and two sturdy males, roughly equal in shape and features exited. Two dozen men clad in black spilled out of the SUVs, equipped with SMGs, and stood in a loop around the twins. Four men clad in red came out to escort them inside. The interior was like any ultra modern office, with a beautiful fountain in the middle, standing in contrast with the other furnitures. The men in black except four, stand their ground at the entrance along with some of the red ones. The twins moved with feline grace and entered the spacious elevator along with the remaining four men in black, and four men in reds.

The lift took them to the ninetieth floor. The journey up was unsettling. The twins were here to settle a major conflict between the two groups. Another ally, a bald Russian bureaucrat addressed them as they exited the lift. Along with him and his companions the group moved towards the adjacent patio, where a gorgeous female, with blood red hair awaited them. Her glossy red gown was very reveling along with her red painted full lips. She greeted them and made them settle down.

The conversation started as the bald man raised the question upfront. Do she wants to join them or keep on their rivalry. She laughed a little and answered. No and no. Then the elder one of the twins spoke about an agreement for peace, no more blood shed. She nodded. Then they moved to other matters of discussion. The meeting was going fine, oblivious of the back hawk flying towards them.

Gun shots rounded the area before a combat copter came into view. All of them ducked towards the Concrete railings to save a piece of them from the hammering of the . 50 cal. loaded in the front of the chopper. Two missiles glided toward them, one hitting the patio and shattering most of the nearby glass windows, another destroying the elevator area. The occupants of the patio ran inside watching for the mini gun.

Another carrier copter hover above until a dozen or so combatants roped down. They attacked the disoriented and split guards. The twins and the red head fought them well but more and more were spilling in.

The elder of the twins shouted at the redhead and moved back. But he didn't reached his destination. He fell down with a shriek. The red head and his brother ran towards his falling body. Through the smoke the bald man came into view, with an evil smirk marking his face, holding a bloodied knife in one hand and a gun in another. He pitched the gun straight towards the younger brother and shot.

*

Slowly he opened his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he tugged at his aching muscles. His whole body felt sore. Suddenly his predicament hit him. His brothers lifeless face.

"Marcus!!" He cried out. His whole body was sweating and his heartbeat was going out of bound. He looked around searching for his hopefully wounded brother. He prayed he was only wounded. But he was nowhere in the towers. It was almost dusk now. The ground around him was barren rough ground. He could see corpses of which looked like cars. It was of-course a car graveyard!

"Kalika! That should be her." he thought, "She should have teleported me here." With this he tried to stand up. Every joint of his body felt like rusty daggers are planted between them haphazardly.

"I've to get back. Warn the Fist about Makarov's treachery." He always hated that man. After trying the phone for few minutes, only receiving 'your number is invalid' messages, he gave up. Strange because he just called from it this morning. Now he would have to do it all by himself. And he don't even fucking know where he is!

He looked around for other people. He was alone and only the distant crunching and thudding noises of machinery. The noises drew his attention, people. He started running, in-spite of the overwhelming pain. After about a hundred and fifty yards he took a left and nearly stumbled over a small group of teenagers.

"Hey watch it man." A boy with uneven stubbles on his cheeks spoke as he steadied himself.

"Sorry." He said panting heavily.

"You okay." A redheaded girl asked softly. He looked at his face.

"NO! I'm not okay!" he tried to push them away from his way, then stopped.

"I need a phone." he looked at the four before him. One produced a phone from his pocket and he matched a number. It was their headquarters's land-line. He sighed in relief as the familiar tone resounded. A male voice answered.

"Fist Industries."

"Nascar, is that you? This is your commander. We are under attack! Gather arms and meet us at the blood trail."

"What the fuck! Tell me your name first."

"Daemon Fist, you fucking fool."

"Daemon? NO shit! You can't be him. How did you acquire this number? No just leave it and don't play pranks like this again."

"What do you mean I can't be him, asshole. I AM DAEMON, you..." The line disengaged.

"Damn!" he muttered under his breath. Nascar was an old friend, and his refusal was hard to Comprehend. Now he have to go down to the headquarters and whoop his ass for the negligences. This was getting strange because Nascar was not a person to deny help to anyone, even to a stranger.

"You call yourself Daemon Fist?! Ha, I knew you were a lunatic just as I saw you." The fourth one with glasses smirked.

The redhead moved towards him and touched his left arm. The first guy snorted in disapproval. "What is your real name?" She asked, looked at the others and then back at him. "We might be able to help you. "

"I've already told you my name. It is my real name." He said irritated. Then he saw a red patch of cloth with a velociraptor threaded on it it in white. The Raptors, a small group up north of Farthorn, his home ground. Not a threat to the main flow and mostly helpful. He was surprised to see people no more then nineteen wearing this insignia. A plan formed in his mind.

"So you people from Raptors." It was more of a statement then a question now. They all nodded in unison.

"Take me to your commander." He ordered them, which brought a few frowns.

"Why should we do somethin' like that?" The guy whose phone he just used snapped back.

"Akris, behave." The redhead who seemed to be in-charge growled then inquired, "Why do you ask for this?"

"I need to talk to him." He answered.

"Her." The word was filled with such sorrow that he took a step forward to sooth it then stopped.

"What do you mean 'her'. Commander Ordin was a man till our last meeting." The fierce look on her face almost made him flinch. Almost.

"He is no more."

"What?! When?"

"Two years ago." she answered trying to keep her voice from trembling. He wondered who he was to her. Wait! Two years. How is that possible. He was present to the usual weekend council meeting last Saturday. He even took few drinks with them. But the intensity and tone of the girl told him she wasn't kidding about it.

"Two years you say. So what's today's date?"

"16th of August, 2015." One of them answered.

"HOLY SHIT!" He muttered under his breath. So he jumped forward in time? Is this really possible. He got an urgent urge to meet the new commander as soon as possible.

"OK, take me to her then."

**

Cassandra Vermont weighed the matter in hand thoroughly. A spy is said to be present among her order, leaking info that is beneficial for the rival guilds. She was sitting on the porch of her new mansion. A great feat for the commander of the Raptors. She had worked her ass off leading Raptor to emerge as a powerful guild, just like she promised his dying father two years ago. Two years, she thought moving her hand over the silken tresses of her maroon mane.

She sighed. Two years of endless war and deaths. Two years since the council fell. Two years since the death of the Fist brothers, which brought down this catastrophe. Two years since her father was murdered brutally, because he refused to kneel before that savage evil incarnate, the present leader of the Fist.

The thought of him filled her with rage. Visions of the past still plagued her nights. That evil creature transformed the once beloved guild into a one which is frowned and spitted upon now. She stood up and walked inside, deciding to make herself a cup of coffee. Of course she could afford servants, but she liked it this way. Even when her sister insisted, she refused. She liked to be self-dependent. This provides her with a strong image of herself before the members.

She expertly steamed out a black coffee with the top class coffee machine. The bitter taste made her mind to divert from the painful moments of past. She was about to turn to her bedroom when she heard muttering from outside the mansion. She instead walked towards the main door, but it opened before her and her sister and few others filled in.

She immediately noticed the stranger, an overly handsome man, who looked about the same age as her. His pitch black streaks, even if a little muddled looked soft and smooth. Her eyes glided down the azure orbs of his eyes, towards the strong and hard bounded body of his. This made her skip a breath. He was the perfect male specimen.

Daemon was quite taken aback by the gorgeous creature before him. It should be the 'her'. He just knew it. Her aura was quite strong and he was literally surprised to see that she was a mage too, jus like him. A mage this strong among the weaker classes was a really notable feat. But even then he couldn't stop adoring her gracious curves and features. Surely both of the sisters don't have a single feature, except for their heights, same as their father.

The first thing was her eyes. They were blood red, just like Kellendra, the red head standing before her, who turned out to be her twin. The next thing that caught his eyes were her excessively generous breasts, hugged tightly by the black T-shirt she was wearing. Her midriff was just as shapely, he could say even if it was out of plain sight. Her tight and hourglass figure made him suddenly hard, which was very unusual for him. The tight jeans hugged her lower body, stretching out at the perfect places. Oh, she was just lovely.

"He seeks your audience, your highness." Kelly bowed mockingly. The others giggled but to Daemon's disappointment Cass didn't.

"Who are you and what is it that you seek help for?" She spoke for the first time, her voice slightly disdainful but overall sweet.

"I'm Daemon Fist, commander of The Fist guild, and I seek your help in understanding the strangeness of my circumstances." He was impressed by the serene and absoluteness of her face. She didn't seem to be shocked.

But actually she was. Daemon Fist. The Late Daemon Fist? Brother of the former leader of The Fist? Who died along with him at the Trail attack two years ago? Murdered by the Blood mages? All sort of this questions filled her mind for a second then she cleared her mind and pushed at his aura.

Fuck, she gasped. Watching her do that, Kelly moved towards her. But Cass held a palm to make her stop. For a second she felt like she was going to drown in his aura. The magic was so dense that her years of training seemed to be a lullaby before it. And at that moment she almost believed the impossible. She almost believed that it was Daemon Fist standing before her. But he decided against it. He can't be him, but his powers are beyond comprehension, just like him and his brother.

"Now," she took a deep breath and choose her words wisely, "Please tell me this is not a joke. We all know Fist brothers are dead now for over two years, leaving the city in ruins, so we should not make a laugh out of it."

"Dead? DEAD?! What the fuck is the problem with you people? I'm not DEAD all right. It can't be because I never died."

"OK, if you are Daemon Fist, as you say, then where were you when that sick Russian piece of wad took over your guild and destroyed the council?" She snapped at him accusingly. This gorgeous man was getting on her nerves now.

"What?" He was shocked, "How?"

"Makarov took over Farthorn. Using The Fist as a battering ram. Those who refused to side him were crushed." She replied with a healthy dose of anger.

He was finding it difficult to believe. Here he was, two years ahead of his time, his brother is dead and his hood is seized by that treacherous bastard. A question popped in his mind.

"What about The Blood Mages?"

"It is said that their leader sided with him and planned the attacks. No news about her ever reached us." She answered.

The fearful face of Kalika flew before him. She saved him. NO, she can't be a traitor, he knew it.

"I need to talk to you," He looked at other, "In private."

She was taken back a little by his tone. She knew by her experience, that if he choose to kill her, no force can stop him now. He didn't seemed malevolent but tired.

"It's alright, you guys can leave." She said.

"But commander he is..." The guy with the glasses protested but Cass was resolute. They gave up and walked out of the mansion. But she knew they would be standing ears glued to the door.

As the door closed, her stance changed.

"Who are you?" Her eyebrows crossed. He snorted at the expression. "Ah, don't give me that shit, I know you are powerful... very powerful, but Daemon Fist is dead long for long."

He was fed up with this, so he decided what he was trying against till now. He was low on energy and what he intended would surely leave him vulnerable at last. So if he fails in the task to make her believe, he would be better dead already.

He took a deep breath moved forward with lightning speed. His hand crossed and clasping her mouth. The other one moved and turned her back, then held her arms firmly at her back. He pushed her over to a nearby wall. Her soft curves enticing him mercilessly.

Cassandra nearly gave in to his body. She could feel his hard muscles pressing firmly to her back. She wasn't small but he was over six foot five. The intimacy of the situation was too much and she felt tingles between her legs. Oh god, She was turned on by this act?!

But just then it came, brushing aside her mental defences like they were a stack of cards. Suddenly her mind was flooded with memories. She wanted to scream at this uninvited invasion of her mind but when she saw the gore and blood she was terror stricken. She saw the attacks. How the chopper rained down bullets on them, how he saw his brother lying on the floor face down and the evil smirk. How the redheaded women at his side cast a spell and darkness seeped in her mind. She gasped in surprise, taking in what everyone wondered for years. The Trail Attack. He was Daemon Fist and she now shared his pain.

Suddenly his aura started to disintegrate. He slumped back and almost fell down, but she acted and caught him.

He was exhausted. The little reserve of energy was used up and he was down. But a set of hands held him. Not letting him fall. His eyes were drooping, but he managed a glance at that beautiful but now tear stained face.

"I believe you now." The sweet ringing of her voice followed him to unconsciousness.

****

So here is the first one, hope you like it enough to comment. Please let me know of any mistakes, 'cause as I mentioned first, it is unedited. And I need an editor desperately. So if anyone is interested please leave a comment.