Innocence Lost Ch. 06byLady_Blackhawk©
Azlorik returned to the suite in a flourish. He spared Mistale not even a glance as he gathered a few items and packed them within a worn leather pack, teleporting out just as quickly. Mistale moved from her spot in front of the bedpost, trying to make some sense of what had just happened. He hadn't even acknowledged her. That seemed odd to her. Something must be happening. She shrugged and returned to the room with the comfy chairs and the book she'd picked to read. The adventure enthralled her. It piqued her interest. Most of his books dealt with arcane theory, anatomy and demonology. Why would Azlorik own such a trivial story about her surfacer kin? Was it to learn about them? Her brow furrowed. He was certainly quite contrary, at times.
Mistale closed her eyes and imagined being back on the surface. She fondly recalled the days of running with a pack of wolves, of racing alongside Greymist. She missed her faithful companion and wondered where he was at this moment. Had he rejoined a pack? Would he remember her if she ever made it back to the surface? She sighed wistfully, missing the sound of the rain, the fury of a thunderstorm, the warmth of the sun and the smell of a fragrant breeze wafting over her skin.
As she reopened her eyes, a dark cloth draped over them. She squeaked, floundering about. Mistale dropped the book as hands closed over her wrists and lead her away from the chair. She felt herself being lowered to the floor in front of the fireplace. She knew the blue-black skin of an odd six-legged beast rested beneath her. It was silky and smooth against her sore back.
She struggled as she felt someone cover her, feeling warm skin pressed intimately against hers. "Stop," she squawked.
A low chuckle rumbled in her ear. "Ele?"
She knew that voice. It was too gentle to be Azlorik's. It had to be his brother's. Azlesaonar had defied Azlorik and she knew she would surely pay for it one way or another. "You want this, little one. Don't deny it. I'll show you pleasure like you've never even imagined," he purred softly in her ear.
"No, stop! I can't. He'll kill me," she cried as fresh tears soaked her blindfold.
"No, he won't. I sent him on a fool's errand. He thinks he'll be able to get back into Matron Mother's good graces. He thinks he'll gather the information he was supposed to return with when he brought you home, but little does he know he's headed for failure. Worse than last time because this time he won't have you to keep him alive. Grumazz will be waiting for him, just like last time. And unlike last time, Grumazz will succeed. I've paid him well to ensure it. Now my pretty, you will be mine. Accept it." Azlesaonar crowed proudly before pulling her blindfold off. "You're mine now and I'm going to prove that to you. Never fear, ssinjin uss (sweet one), you won't suffer the whip. I have no need for violence in order to feel satisfied. Your sweet body will be all that I require."
She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and let a few tears fall. Azlesaonar watched her, studied her scarred flesh, memorizing the latticework of violence that marked her. "Xun naut ul'nusst, lotha uss (Do not cry, little one). Usstan orn tlu dosman. Neitar 'sohna orn dos tlu jivviim (I will be gentle. Never again will you be hurt.) I promise you that."
"I don't believe you," she shook her head frantically. "Let me go."
He silenced her protests with a hungry, possessive kiss, leaving no doubt in her mind that he wanted her. "You're mine," he told her breathing hard from the kiss.
She struggled beneath him. "I don't want this. I don't want you. You must stop now!"
Azlesaonar shook his head, "You prefer violence to what I can offer you." Mistale nodded and looked away. "Take what I'm offering you and you'll never be hurt again. You'll be safe with me. Azlorik isn't coming back. I'll protect you from Matron Mother. You'll want for nothing."
"Yes, I will. You're not my master," Mistale's eyes flashed for a brief moment. "Go away!"
He studied her for several minutes. "As you wish, but know this. You'll die here without someone to protect you."
As quickly as Azlesaonar appeared, he was gone, leaving her lying upon the soft animal skin with wetness gathering between her thighs. She softly whispered Azlorik's name before making her way to the bed she shared with him. It looked inviting and she eagerly crawled into it. Her thoughts were full of her master and what she would tell him upon his return... if he returned. Oh great Goddess, she mentally beseeched, keep him safe for me. I want to be the one causing the light to fade in his eyes. I want to be the one who slams the knife deep into his black heart.
With that reaffirming script, she closed her eyes and sought her reverie.
The cave was lit with pale shimmering lichen and glowing green phosphorescent moss. The scribbled note from Kalar said the contact with the information he needed would meet him here. He scanned the cavern, peering around the large towering mushrooms for signs that anyone had hidden. To be sure he depressed the jewel within his cloakpin and activated the true seeing aura. When nothing appeared, he relaxed for a moment, before becoming vigilant and alert once more.
His sensitive ears perked up and he retreated behind a mushroom stalk, crouching behind it as he pulled a potion vial from a pouch at his beltline. He removed the topper, quaffing it. It tingled as it slid down his throat, making his throat feel icy cool. Then he cast a spell to turn himself invisible.
And he waited.
He knew something was coming. Something didn't feel right. A sneaking suspicion lingered deep in his gut. Closing his eyes, he focused upon the mirrors that hung upon the wall in his suite. There was one in each room, making it easy for him to check up on Mistale. The image he saw within his library disturbed him greatly and he knew him being out here in the caverns beyond the city had to be a setup. So Azlesaonar thought he could steal little Mistale from him. How dead wrong he was. He watched as Mistale fended his twin off. Pride surged through him. He'd have reward his little slave for her obedience and her allegiance to him.
Azlesaonar would pay dearly for all his carefully laid schemes to be rid of Azlorik, but first he'd take care of the one sent to ambush him. He smiled widely at the chance to turn the tables on his dear brother. Matron Mother would smile upon him for uncovering this duplicity.
The true seeing kicked in as five broad shouldered, barrel chested, green skinned, red eyed, massive Greatsword wielding Deep Orcs entered the cavern. Azlorik mentally went over the repertoire of spells he'd memorized that day. Muttering softly, he chanted a spell, calling to life massive webs that choked the entrance to the cave. Then relying on his innate abilities summoned a globe of magical darkness to fill the room. The Deep Orcs shouted.
"The puny dark elf is up to his puny tricks. Find him and thrash him within an inch of his life." The leader barked, "We'll give him to Grumazz to finish off."
Azlorik blanched at the sound of that name. He knew Azlesaonar meant to kill him, but hadn't figured he'd resort to tapping the dreaded half-dragon half-troll to do the job for him. It made sense, though. Grumazz had nearly succeeded once and he would have if it hadn't been for Mistale's intervention. Perhaps House Kilsek wasn't behind the attempt on him after all. It had to be Azlesaonar and now his twin wanted his slave. But why? Why did Azlesaonar want Mistale though? Was it because she thwarted Azlesaonar's plan? And what would he do with her once he had her?
Azlorik knew he was right not to trust his twin's line of how the darthiir pleased him. She wasn't nearly as comely as many of the drow females he'd been consort to were. Surely her pale flesh wasn't that appealing. He enjoyed seeing it blacken from the beatings he'd given her. He enjoyed ripping from her what she'd never willingly give. Or perhaps what she'd never willingly admit to was wanting to give. He knew she had enjoyed their last rendezvous as much as he had. He delighted in using the floggers on her. Next time, he'd use a thicker whip and focus on her breasts and her juicy sex. Perhaps he'd finally delve into the dark depths of her backside, ripping her anal cherry from her. A grin crossed his face while he manipulated another one of his inherent abilities, outlining the Deep Orcs with glowing purple fire. He'd enjoy sinking into the tight forbidden depths of her bottom after he striped her plump cheeks with his marks. Despite how much it pleased to think of violating her in a new delicious way, he knew he had to get his mind back on the matter at hand. He needed to destroy the orcs and take care of Grumazz once and all.
Whispering an incantation, he summoned several little spheres of energy to his hand and launched them at each of the Orcs. None of them were particularly bright and lashed out in the darkness as the luminous barbs seared their skin. Each one of the five bellowed and jostled around, bumping into each other. Azlorik chuckled as he spied a boulder to the left of the entrance. He focused on it telekinetically, lifting it into the air and thrusting it towards the head of the largest Deep Orc. It slammed him hard, splitting his head wide open like a ripe green melon. Greenish-red blood splattered in all directions before the near giant sized beast sank to its knees and hit the rocky floor in a trembling thud. Azlorik redirected the heavy missile, slamming the Deep Orc nearest to one he'd just hit. The careening projectile smashed its target, flattening it to the ground. The Orc bellowed wordlessly before the weight of the boulder crushed its chest in, silencing it effectively.
Two down, three to go plus Grumazz, Azlorik ticked off in his head wryly. He had to save his major spells for the battle with the half-breed abomination.
As the globe of darkness winked out of existence, Azlorik summoned another one and once more disoriented the stupid Orcs. They'd had enough time to catch sight of their defeated comrades. Scrambling about and barking expletives in their guttural language, each one searched for a way out of the darkness. That drow had to be there somewhere.
Azlorik chuckled to himself and levitated himself to the ceiling of the cavern, far above the Orcs' heads. He renewed the violet outline on each of them and called to his hand a putrid green ball of energy then he hurled it, catching his victim flush in the face with the killing orb. The spell exploded. The Orc fell where he stood, knocking one of his comrades off balance. Azlorik took advantage of that and hurled another spell, one that immobilized the fallen Orc.
He laughed and called another to his hands, quickening its casting. Lowering himself into the darkness, he touched the shoulder of the remaining Orc, whispering the spell. As the spell took hold, magically forcing the orc he'd touched to be his friend he whispered his first command. "Kill for me," Azlorik directed before levitating away once more.
Though the Orc tried to resist the command, he hefted his giant weapon and buried the massive greatsword into his comrade's belly and ripped upwards, spilling bowels, blood and intestines onto the ground. The held Orc howled in pain with its last dying breath. Four down, one to go as well as Grumazz. He grinned and cast another spell, summoning out of the stone a huge earth elemental. It dwarfed the remaining Orc by several feet and slammed its massive fists into the chest and head of its opponent. The Orc bellowed from the blows, slashing the elemental with his sword. Azlorik joined in the fight, blasting the Orc with bolts of lightning, arrows of flame and balls of erupting fire.
The Orc screamed in pain and fought the elemental with every bit of strength it possessed. Greenish-red blood poured from several gashes, burn blasts and wounds from being pummeled by the elemental. Impatience drove Azlorik to throw out one final spell. He chanted loudly, pointing his finger at the Orc and sent a ray of foul life sucking energy at him. With a gasp of breath as the ray struck him, he collapsed to the ground.
Azlorik dropped to the ground, exhaling sharply at the expenditure of power he'd delivered upon his foes. Grumazz was still out there, too. He knew he'd need the rest of his spells to defeat the abomination that had been paid to eliminate him. He dismissed the globe of darkness, standing near the huge earth elemental.
"GRUMAZZ!" Azlorik shouted, his voice echoing through the caverns. "Show yourself, you cowardly kobold. Your Orcs are dead. Face me, Grumazz."
A blast of flame incinerated the webs that choked the cavern's entrance. In stepped a green-scaled monstrous abomination with wings upon his back, razor sharp teeth that protruded from his large maw and sharp talons that extended from his long slender fingers. He towered above Azlorik by three full feet, nearly coming to eye level with the earth elemental.
"It is unwise for you to challenge me, little worm," the half dragon half troll sneered as he fixed his lamp-like yellow eyes upon Azlorik. He clenched his fist around the pommel of a sword that was longer in length than the dark elf was tall. "I would have thought that our first battle would've proved that to you. You can't defeat me. Your puny spells will have no effect on me."
"That's what you think, but I know differently. You caught me unawares the last time. This time it is not so. My magic will obliterate your mere existence and no one will lament your passing." Azlorik retorted, and summoned this most potent spell in his spellbook to his hands. He smiled as the yellow and black pulsing ball of energy thrummed within his cupped palms. Wasting no time and not allowing Grumazz to come any closer, Azlorik hurled the spell at his foe, watching as it swirled around the half dragon half troll menacingly, launching acid, fire, lightning and sonic energy at the him. Grumazz screamed as the massive ball engulfed him. While the spell erupted, Azlorik levitated once more and took a deep breath. Calling upon the power of the potion he had quaffed before the Orc battle, he sent a cone of icy cold blasting at Grumazz. The shock of cold blended with the other damaging energies and dropped the beast to his knees.
The next spell that Azlorik conjured into being shot a sickly green ray at his foe. It wrapped around Grumazz and turned him into dust, disintegrating the half dragon half troll before his very eyes. Azlorik exhaled and watched the Hellball he'd cast explode, shaking the cavern thoroughly before winking out of existence. Azlorik dropped to the ground and gathered his slain foe's possessions, including the greatsword and greatspear it wielded simultaneously. These would make great souvenirs of his accomplishment.
Azlorik took a moment to recover from the amount of power he'd expended in this battle. He knew he'd have to rest and he couldn't think of a better place than in his bed with his slave pressed so intimately against him.
He gathered all the weapons of his defeated foes, also taking their heads as proof he'd slain them. With the flick of his wrist, he expended one final spell, teleporting himself back to his rooms. He found Mistale upon the bed and eagerly joined her.
Tomorrow he would confront his twin, but for now he would enjoy his luscious slave.