In the Lair of the Entropy God

Location: Holy city of Lona
Solstice Eve, 2021

Anduvar Elvaraë watched the last of the priest-assassins fall dead at his feet with satisfaction. The tall, lean elvish lord hadn't quite believed her when she said that the dark mottling on their dingy grey robes was blood stains from their victims. Dark elves and Unseelie Court could be bloodthirsty, but it troubled him sometimes that humans had within them such extremes for beauty and cruelty, even against their own kind. Over and over, he kept telling himself he shouldn't be surprised that her words had proved true once again. In seven short years, Shalia Tavona had only been wrong twice.

Around the body of the priest, ephemeral images of the dead flickered into view before fading out, the spirits of past sacrifices once tied to their slayer in a sort of unholy mana reserve. Now freed of their hideous bondage, they should make their way to whatever afterlife they believed in.

All but two winked out. Puzzled, he muttered the minor detect entity spell. They were damaged. Too weak to do more than remain here, he realized, eventually to fade to oblivion, or worse, attract something that fed on soul energy. "Peace. I will help you before I leave," he promised.

For many warriors, these vermin priests may have posed a threat. Silver Knights were the elite of the grey and high elven peoples. Few other knight orders could hope to match them. Anduvar was a Silver Knight Captain, a weapons master, and arch mage. As he cleaned off his blade, he mused that owning a decent enchanted sword helped as well. Not even six centuries old, many elven lords thought him a reckless youngster. Anduvar thought he was doing just fine, thank you very much. Besides, he and his small band of knights had just rescued the brilliant and incredibly delectable Shalia Tavona. He intended to enjoy– no, savor every minute of it! Now he just had to find her.

He scanned around the decrepit warehouse. Piles of empty crates and trash littered the floor. Evil priests laired in an abandoned warehouse? How droll! A good deed done and a cliché expunged at the same time!

Anduvar saw Artellon Far Travellor, Invandis Meadowfield, and Faranthil Rosewood by the south entrance, checking for traps and any remaining enemy guards. The brothers Timion and Lenton Pinetree were close by, keeping watch over their fallen foes. Regeneration was always a possibility as was some invoked spell or monster summoned at the last minute.

Where was his lieutenant, Thorgorond Thelaborn? There, by the knight from Amber Leaf, Aerin Clouddancer. Aerin had been visiting Thorgorond when Anduvar put out the call to arms. Elvish paladins were a rarity, but she had acquitted herself well tonight. No fatalities was always good news. Even better was no serious injuries. They had breached the magical defenses and taken them by complete surprise. His companions began releasing the naked women from the sacrificial alters.

Oh, yeah, he thought. Coming to Shalia's rescue? And she, likely chained up and very naked? This could turn out to be the best day in two hundred years. Maybe three! He might even make a memory cube when he found her. As long as she wasn't hurt, of course.

Anduvar continued searching. Twenty women by his count. One elf maid, and the rest human. He frowned. No sign of Shalia!

They'd had a fight a month ago, and had hardly spoken since. Shalia had heard rumors about this group, these followers of halgar, god of evil, entropy, and chaos. (Shalia had drilled it into him, only halgar's followers capitalized the god's name. Ba'lorians – Shalia's faith – and decent people did not.) Religion made people do strange things. Violating rules of grammar was nothing like ... well, like kidnaping and sacrificing women to some crazy deity that wanted the universe to end. To Anduvar's mind, those who worshiped entropy tended to be whacked in the head.

Where was she? he wondered, moving in a quick search grid. Even though they'd fought, he'd kept a close watch on her nonetheless.

Shalia was often doing things on her own. Art and hobbies and scholarly research? Go for it. Searching alone for a nest of crazed priest-assassins? Arrogance. Pure stupidity. And she should know better!

Just after their fight, she'd caught him following her and given his ears a blistering. He'd let her go on until in exasperation, she'd demanded to know why was he following when she'd made it clear she didn't want him around right now and maybe never again? He'd given her his look. "Oooh, I hate it when you do that!" she'd snapped. Anduvar simply left, determined not to get caught again. He was very good at finding things and at staying hidden. She was, too, which was both a hindrance and a comfort. Shalia's danger sense was nearly as good as his own. A week later, when she caught him as she came out of Hadrian's Sorcerer Supply Shoppe, she angrily flipped him off and changed directions. Oh, yes, he'd thought then. That's a promise! And imagined her legs on his shoulders and him driving his hard cock relentlessly deep into her soft wet pussy, and her lying beneath him, helpless to the pleasure he gave her.

Anduvar lusted after Shalia. Big time. What irked him the most was he was also completely in love with her. Her pale blonde hair, intense bright cobalt blue eyes, pert nose and narrow chin. They could talk all manner of subjects, and she knew a great deal on many topics. Amazing, delightful, irritating, beautiful human woman. Mystery within a conundrum indeed! Anduvar liked how her eyes often softened when she looked at him. It melted him inside.

And her body inflamed him. Satin smooth skin and responsive breasts. He loved sucking on them, getting her nipples hard. Her tight belly and lean legs and flare of her hips meeting at her wonderful cleft. The hair on her pussy was so pale as to make her appear naturally shaved. Anduvar even loved the large mole high up on her left butt cheek! Shalia's skill as a martial artist had given her another unexpected ability: she had the strongest Kegel muscles he'd ever encountered. When Shalia squeezed her pussy around his cock, it was the tightest grip he'd ever felt. And when she bore down during orgasm, he could barely move let alone withdraw, she was so tight. From the entrance of her womb out to her pussy lips, as pleasure racked her body, the walls of her sex undulated from his crown down his shaft to his balls, urging him to cream her pussy. He never seemed to get enough of Shalia or her talented pussy. And until their recent fight, she had eagerly responded to any of his advances.

The fight had been stupid. Her stupidity, he thought. All he had wanted was for her not to go out looking for trouble alone. To his mind, even just trying to locate an outlaw group of priests counted as looking for trouble. Anduvar had also sensed her pulling back of late, especially after their visit to Glen Green, the city his father ruled.

At his reasonable request that she not go searching alone, she'd unexpectedly exploded, telling him she could do what she wanted, when she wanted, that she didn't need a babysitter, thank you, she was a grown woman with a mind of her own, capable of taking care of herself. His reply that she certainly wasn't acting like a grown, capable, intelligent woman hadn't gone over well.

Later, privately, he admitted he could have done better. Then, however, Shalia loudly kicked him out of her apartment. It was four days before he was over his own mad and tried to patch things up. When he did, she rebuffed him. "Not interested in being told what to do! Go away!"

Following her only angered her. Earlier attempts to discuss moving their casual love affair to the next step had been sidestepped. "I'm young," she had said to him. "Plenty of time to get serious later." Trouble was, she was already nearing thirty. As an immortal high elf, he would have agreed. But she was fully human. Time flew fast enough for their kind. Often too fast.

Where was she? He stopped moving and took a long breath to calm himself.

Three years earlier, when he realized he was falling for this confounding and amazing woman, he'd asked for and received a small lock of her hair. He'd spent four months doing errands to learn the spell, and another three to imbue the locket with the old faerie magic, turning it into a subtle magical link. Most magic glowed when detected for, with the intensity reflecting the item or spell's power. Fay in origin, it was very weak magically, and would be missed by all but the most diligent magical scans. When he showed the locket that housed her snip of hair to her, he let her hold it, and asked if he could keep it with her blessing. Amused, Shalia did so, then raised inquiring eyebrows when she felt the transient subtle shift in energy. Her words triggered the final transformation. "A keepsake," he had told her– a truth and an omission–and put it around his neck. She'd let the matter drop. For Anduvar, all he had to do was think of her and he'd know the direction she was at and approximate distance, and the closer he was, the stronger and more accurate the sensation. It could be foiled by many spells and protected areas, but once clear of them, it resumed the connection. Most importantly, if she knew she was in trouble, Anduvar would know that too.

Most times he wouldn't even consider using the tracking ability of the locket. After all, he respected her privacy. However, both of the two times Shalia had been wrong were times she ended up in trouble, with foes a bit more dangerous than she'd planned for. And this recent bull-headedness? Anduvar felt justified in keeping tabs on her, by any and all means.

An hour ago, he'd heard a single phrase of despair from Shalia in his mind: Help me.

Most of his retinue were busy doing other duties, but six had responded. Seven, counting Clouddancer. It had taken all of fifteen minutes to assemble and to travel three thousand kilometers by teleportation magic, and then another twenty minutes to pinpoint Shalia's location before the locket's link was broken. It took time, too, to bypass magical wards, and then to attack the priest-assassins and their guards.

Anduvar kicked himself mentally. He should have been here, in Lona, following her! Instead, family had called him temporarily away. His uncle's errand kept him busy for three days. Long enough for Shalia's father to contact him by spell and politely ask that his daughter please get back to the temple for the class she was scheduled to teach? Anduvar's next question – how long had she been missing? – gave Jerynne Tavona pause, but he answered anyway. Missing since early yesterday. Anduvar promised her father he'd find Shalia and bring her home.

Alive, he'd said to himself. After breaking the magical connection, Anduvar knew his words were less a promise than a vow. He would find her. And any who hurt her would feel his wrath.

Noises indicating surprise from the Pinetree brothers on the other side of a huge stack of crates caught his attention. More intriguing were the throaty female moans. He moved around the obstruction to investigate.

What he discovered astonished him. Lenton and Timion had their arms pinned down – were those women trying to stuff the hands of those young elf boys up into their pussies? And over their faces were two women busily grinding away – he hoped his men were getting enough air! – and two more lustily bounced on their cocks. That accounted for eight of the twenty women they'd rescued. Where were the other twelve?

He glanced around and saw Thorgorond and Aerin nearby, four naked women sprawled unconscious on the ground in front of them.

Thorgorond shrugged, his bright green eyes vastly amused. "I opted out, due a previous commitment," he said, glancing at Aerin. "Aerin knocked them out when they refused to listen."

The paladiness removed her helmet, showing her pale blue eyes and freeing her long white braid. Her narrow, aristocratic face scowled at Anduvar, as if daring him to challenge her actions. Saw her mailed fists.

They're going to feel it when they wake, he thought. I guess she doesn't like to share. Anduvar cleared his throat. "Good work, Clouddancer."

He glanced at Thorgorond. It was plain his cousin thought this whole situation hilarious. No doubt Thorgorond intended to tease the young knights mercilessly later. When Aerin snapped her head around to look at Thorgorond, his face was stone sober.

He's good, Anduvar observed. Another time, another lifetime ago, he might have envied Thorgorond his chosen partner. Right now, he had his own blonde to find.

Anduvar spied the rest of the women heading to the three elven knights by the door. Oh boy! Not that they would be hurt or anything. But why were women just rescued from imminent death busy trying to hump his men? This was obviously more than gratitude. It had the appearance of urgency bordering on desperation. And where the bloody blazes was Shalia?

Knowing the answer to the first question might be a clue to the second. Anduvar spotted an empty wine container on the ground. He picked it up and sniffed. No need to detect magic here. Cheap wine with the tell-tale cinnamon and clove scent. Aphrodite's Bliss, an inexpensive aphrodesiac. If you were going to rape and murder women, why would you get them aroused first? The aphrodesiac didn't change the fact it was to be rape; it only took the choice to resist away from the women. Scanning the energetic women, Anduvar expected their auras to reveal charm magic. He did see exactly that, but was startled to also find necromantic magic as well.

Necromantic? Wait ... fertility spells? These women were not only excited by the charm of the potions, but had their own raging hormones adding fuel to the fire. These women were going to want to hump for hours! Why would priest-assassins want to kill women they intended to impregnate? Of course! It was the evening before Summer Solstice, the day the Ba'lorians venerated their earth mother goddess. Killing twenty-one pregnant women would be both their heresy and their supplication to their crazy god of entropy. Not just whacked in the head. These guys had been seriously dangerous and perverted.

He could stop this orgy in process. But it would take time. One dispel magic to end the potion's charm, and a second to end the fertility spell. All that would take time Anduvar felt he didn't have. The fact that Shalia wasn't with the others suddenly worried him.

Anduvar tossed the wine skin aside, and started moving away.

Aerin called to him, "What about all this?" She waved her hand at the eight women writhing and bouncing over the two young elven knights, busy trying to get them to come.

"Aside from some empty balls, I expect they will survive this encounter without permanent harm. If you feel compelled to do something, it will take two dispel magic spells for each woman. Even then, the effects of the fertility spell, once started, will take days to end on its own. Or you can knock out the rest of them, at least until the aphrodesiac wears off in six to eight hours. Shalia is here, I'm sure of it. Excuse me while I try to find the woman I love." Ignoring them, he went back to where the three main priests had been gathered in their own area.

Calming his mind, he re-examined the scene. Slowly he paced the perimeter. On the fourth time circling the boundary of the kill zone, he felt it. An almost imperceptible sensation. He stepped backward even more slowly. There! Again, a whisper of the link to Shalia. Brief, but there. Shutting out all distractions, he ran through several detection spells, probing, examining. Then he found it. A hidden portal, two dimensional and invisible. Anduvar put his hand through, and the magic of the doorway tugged at him, leading him on.

He stepped through.

And found himself in a small, featureless room filled with drab grey lighting. Within the room itself was the twenty-first sacrificial alter, a large thin granite slab set at waist height.

Chained on it was Shalia!

Here! whispered his locket.

At her side, he looked her over, checking for wounds, eyes and hands moving quickly over her. No injuries that he could see. A sigh of relief. The chains were short, keeping her spread-eagled on the alter. Gagged. Chaffing from where the metal bit into her wrists and ankles. But otherwise, she appeared unharmed. Another sigh of relief. Next, he looked for the same magical aura on her that was on the other women. Surprised and relieved to find none.

She opened her eyes and saw him. Though her voice was muffled by the gag, she rattled and pulled at the chains.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh," he whispered. "I'm here." He gently kissed her forehead, and removed the gag. A caress to her wan face.

Shalia coughed, gasped, and her voice hoarse. "Anduvar! I–"

"Hush. Drink this down." He lifted her head and put a vial of healing to her lips. "All of it." Then he replaced the empty vial with his water skin. "Slowly. Slowly."

She drank, then a took another deep breath. Color returned to her face. "What took you so long?" she said at last.

He blinked, setting the water skin down. "What? That's what you have to say to me? Not how wonderful to see you? I don't know whether to be annoyed because you expected me to rescue you or to be pleased with your faith. And both put to lie your previous insistence that I leave you alone."

"You've been following me for weeks. I actually expected you yesterday morning, right after they grabbed me. When you didn't show, I was worried something had happened to you." Puzzled, she watched as he glanced under the stone slab she laid on, went down by her feet and then actually hopped up onto the slate! She looked up at him, incredulous. "What the blazes are you doing? Get me loose!"

He stood and looked her over, nodding. "Priceless, Shalia. This totally priceless."

"Anduvar!" She rattled her chains.

"I'll have you know, I thought seriously about making a memory cube of you laid out like this." He crouched down, taking in her lovely charms. Then using his index and thumbs, formed a rectangle and looked at her through it, nodding again. "Worth ten thousand words, at least. No, a hundred thousand."

She lifted her head and glared, anger flushing her from her ears down to her round, full breasts. "You're enjoying this!" she accused.

"You have no idea how much! However, since we both have idetic memories, neither one of us will ever forget this little scene, so a cube would only be useful to show others." Anduvar paused, grinning, taking pleasure in seeing her naked. "You really are a beautiful woman, Shalia, and you give me such a hard-on all the time. I've had more boners because of you than I've had in the last four hundred years. And I was hardly celibate."

He jumped down, and moving back, ran his hand casually along her leg to her thigh, through the hair on her mons, a longer caress on her belly, until his hand rested, cupping her breast.

Shalia rattled the chains. "I don't want to hear about your horniness! Do you hear me?"

"You are magic competent. Even with the gag, you should have been able to do something."

"These chains are anti-magic. Every time I tried something it fizzled. Get me free, Anduvar! Now! And I want some clothes!"

"I don't think so. At least, not yet, my beauty."

"What?" Her temper flashed. "Get me off of this thing, Anduvar!"

"I thought you were capable of taking care of yourself, Shalia."

She scowled, saying nothing.

"By the way, you didn't tell your father you dumped me? Me, you flip off in public and then loudly tell me go away. But you don't tell your father we're on the outs? Why is that?"