Mud and Magic Ch. 14

"If they were undead, I would have known," Haloryth said. "After all, we share the same-"

Rhys fired off a quintet of Force Missiles. This time, the shadow recoiled. "No time for a lecture. What else looks like shadows, vomits forth shadows and is able to possess people?" he asked, repeating the spell. The ring on his finger flared as five more pinpricks of pure destructive energy ravaged the shadow creature.

"And how am I supposed to fight them?" Borna snarled. She leaped across the chapel and came to her feet unsteadily next to Rhys. He saw patches of frost on her coat and pale face. "You think your staff will work again?"

"I have something better," Rhys said, tapping his bracer. The dagger he had stashed there, one of Galdor's gifts, sprang into his hand.

Borna scoffed. "A butter knife? What am I supposed to do with a bloody butter knife?"

Rhys fired off another volley of missiles, pushing both his and Borna's opponent back a step or two. "It's an enchanted butter knife, Borna. Magic weapons seem to work," he said, pointing at Chassari with the pommel of the dagger. The shadow she was fighting was much less substantial, almost translucent by now.

Rhys' heart sunk. Despite that small victory, he saw almost a dozen more shadowy creatures gathered around Elara. They had much more definition than those first few, appearing like elves garbed in ancient, elaborate armor. Even their faces were visible, hatefully scowling at the living around them.

"If we don't find a way to deal with Elara, we're all doomed," he said, slapping the weapon into Borna's hand. Growling, the cursed girl charged ahead, slicing wildly with the dagger. The weapon left gashes, just like Chassari's sword. It's not nearly enough to even slow them, Rhys thought, wincing every time a new frosty handprint appeared on Borna's coat.

Elara opened her mouth again. She seemed to struggle with the words, choking forth barely intelligible syllables.

Rhys froze. "Is she speaking Ancient Elven? Haloryth, help me!" He flung another cluster of missiles at the closest shadow. The strain of keeping his defensive enchantments up in combination with his rapid-fire spell-slinging already left him dangerously light-headed and they had yet to defeat a single one.

Haloryth swept into him, nearly taking Rhys off his feet.

"What is she saying?" Rhys asked as he once again was reduced to a passenger in his own head. Haloryth raised both hands and gathered a massive amount of energy, much more than Rhys could ever have hoped to tame by himself.

The words resolved themselves as they filtered through their shared consciousness.

The despoilers shall all perish when I unleash my fury upon them!

"That sounds an awful lot like the Stalkerites," Rhys thought. Haloryth wasn't listening. She formed the gathered energy into a highly complex structure, weaving strands in ways Rhys had never seem magic being used. Then she flung the spell forwards until it detonated between Elara's feet.

Everywhere around him, movements slowed to a crawl, then stopped entirely.

"You have a few moments until the Time Stop dissipates," Haloryth thought. Before Rhys could answer, the spirit had left him. It was a miracle he didn't crumple into an undignified heap. His whole body screamed in agony with the onset of Sorcerer's Burn.

No time to lay down and die! Rhys chastised himself. Every step a monumental effort, he dragged his hurting body through the shadows. Walking around them would take too long, so Rhys stubbornly put one foot before the other and pushed through the immaterial creatures, towards Elara. Claws of ice tore at his flesh, an agonizing counterpoint to the burning pain caused by using way too much magical energy.

Elara's usually beautiful face was distorted into a mask of fury and hatred, her jaw distended unnaturally in mid-scream. Slowly, much too slowly, Rhys' hand closed around the hilt of the Rod of Suppression. He yanked the weapon from his belt. His battered knee gave way and he crashed to the floor, barely able to break his fall. His lower back felt raw and wet as his scars broke open again. With the last vestige of strength, he raised the magic-draining implement and touched Elara's stomach with the exposed lump of Disjunction Stone.

The shadows vanished as the Rod activated. Both the possession and the Time Stop were suppressed and Elara crumpled to the floor next to Rhys. Her eyes snapped open. They were wide and filled with nameless dread as she sought Rhys' gaze. Her lips fluttered helplessly as she fought for words.

"What?" Rhys wheezed, wracked by the Sorcerer's Burn. This time it felt much, much worse than back at the village.

Elara frowned then pointed towards the altar. Rhys understood. She wanted the Hand Of Life. He wasn't strong enough to walk there, not with his body drained from the Burn and the shadows' unnatural cold. The only way he could fetch it was by using even more magic.

This might kill you, you know? a little voice in his head taunted him.

Rhys decided not to argue with himself. The sorcerer gathered a handful of energy around his hand and flung it towards the altar then yanked it back towards himself. The Hand Of Life tumbled from its resting place, tumbled onto the uneven floor and sailed in a glittering arc towards him, coming to a stop just within arm's reach. Groaning with the effort, Rhys snatched the artifact and rolled around, pressing it between Elara's heaving breasts. A blinding pillar of light erupted just as his vision failed him.

Everything went black.

* * * * *

Carver sat up slowly. It was pitch black around him. He didn't need his eyes to figure out where he was. His other senses managed just fine. First, there was the smell. Sweat and bodily secretions hung thick in the air, as did the remains of some forbidden dark elven narcotics. He even noticed the tell-tale coppery stench of spilled blood. Warm, naked bodies were everywhere around him, pressed against his body and entwined with his legs. One long-fingered hand sleepily groped for his nethers and stroked him. His body reacted with surprising eagerness, considering they had been at it for the better part of a whole day before exhaustion finally claimed him, Marissa and their dark elven hosts. His whole body was deliciously sore, some parts more than others.

He slowly shook his head. A mere few days ago, he had prided himself on his virtue, now he sat here, sore, with an aching rear and his face, hair and chest caked with the secretions of his partners. Still, it was fun, he mused. The dark elven sisters Lilith and Tanith were even more debauched and inventive than his recently promoted second-in-command and being the center of a moaning, writhing tangle of mostly female bodies was an experience unlike anything he had allowed himself for many years.

Granted, there had been an especially lurid celebration after a hard-fought victory during his time with Thurguz, Idunn and Zephrya but the blushing young man he had been then was way too scared to do something wrong to enjoy the ministrations the drunk elven rogue had lavished upon him while next to them the towering half-orc fighter had ferociously plowed the equally drunk and obscenely moaning dwarven sorceress. He had always wondered what it would feel like, being claimed like that. Now that he knew, thanks to what Lilith, her sister and Marissa had done to him, he decided to explore the realm of carnal excess even further without inhibition. If nothing else, it would allow him to understand the desires of others more clearly.

For the moment though, his appetite was sated. He gently removed the eager hand from his throbbing crotch. Nice as the sensation was, it would distract from his spellcasting. He muttered a healing spell which dealt with the aching muscles and other minor injuries the frenetic orgy had left him with. The next spell restored his night vision. To his surprise, the one so eagerly fondling his rod had been none other than Lilith, who had been so very insistent on showing him how a male would normally be treated below. It seemed she was more than happy to offer him some pleasure of her own instead of trying to break him. Not that there was any chance of that ever happening, Carver thought, a hint of amusement sparking in his abdomen.

Marissa and Tanith were entangled behind him, the head of his court mage resting on a shapely thigh while her tongue already was busy lapping at the hairless gash between the tall dark elf's thighs.

"You truly are insatiable, aren't you?" Carver muttered, carefully shifting a busty half-orc woman's leg. At the height of the orgy, there had been at least two dozen people, some dark elves and a lot of slaves, tangled up in the lavish "mating chamber." Many of them had left by now, leaving Tanith, Lilith, Carver and a few sex slaves as a many-limbed tangle in the center of the room.

"With that much choice, wouldn't you be?" Marissa whispered back before latching her lips onto Tanith's sex again. The dark elf yawned and writhed languidly under the sorceress' ministrations.

"I'm craving a bath," Carver muttered, extracting himself from the tangle. "And then I should find a way to replenish my energy."

Just wait until our hosts are fully awake. Hardly a day goes by without a blood sacrifice in a dark elven house, Marissa thought through their shared link. A sharp jolt of arousal accompanied her silent missive as Tanith reciprocated, slowly inserting two dexterous fingers into Marissa's hungry nethers. The dark elf's tongue was a fleeting blur on her most sensitive spot too. Carver was too slow to shield himself from the amorous assault. His whole body sang with need within a matter of heartbeats and his throbbing erection begged for some warm sheath to be sunk into.

Sighing in defeat, Carver returned to the tangle in the center of the room. Lilith was eyeing his every move so he decided she would be the one to cure his arousal. He knelt down next to her and placed his hand on one of her ample breasts. "Are you still interested in playing with this rod here?" he asked, trying to remember the worst lines he remembered from a bardic performance he had attended in Lordehome decades ago.

"I'd be honored to suck your stick," Lilith said. "And do whatever else you'd like. After seeing Xalyth being mounted by our biggest Ogre last night, I'm up for any kind of mischief." She propped herself up and closed her lips around his manhood, expertly taking most of his length.

"Speaking of our adopted sister," Tanith gasped from between Marissa's thighs. "Where is she?"

Carver quickly scanned the room. The pillory-like structure near one of the walls was empty. A darker stain on the soft padding was a dire reminder of dark elven cruelty, even to their own kind.

"Maybe she left to treat to her injuries?" he suggested. His breath caught as Lilith deftly inserted a finger into his rear, adding an internal massage to her expert lip- and tongue work.

Lilith let him slip free, gasping for breath. "Who cares. That skank got what she deserved, we got to watch her being fucked raw and it was glorious. She won't be far." With renewed vigor, the lusty dark elf devoured Carver's rod. He plunged two fingers into her willing snatch, which almost seemed to suck at his still learning digits. Her gurgling and moaning were obvious signs of pleasure though so he kept on driving his fingers in and out of her.

A strong body leaned against him. Big breasts were a clear giveaway which of the few remaining slaves was making herself felt right now, just an instant before the half orc's sharp underbite nicked his skin. Carver gasped and drove his cock deeper into Lilith's mouth, causing the dark elf to sputter in protest.

"Keep fucking that mouth," the half orc whispered huskily, digging her sharp nails into his ribs. "Mistress loves it rough."

Carver grinned lustily. He might be able to receive a quick burst of energy without waiting after all. Besides, if Lilith kept it up like that, it wouldn't take long for him to erupt between her willing lips anyway. He removed his hand from Lilith's sopping sex and replaced it with one of the half-orc's meaty paws. Without hesitation, she inserted two of her much bigger fingers into Lilith, causing the dark elf to groan again -- if in protest or lust, Carver couldn't tell. He grasped two handfuls of the dark elf's straggly mane and proceeded to thoroughly fuck the mouth Lilith so willingly had offered. The half-orc behind him pinched one of his nipples, adding another sharp sensation which went straight into his balls. Lilith's gasps and moans were only egging him on and within half a dozen frenzied, deep thrusts, he erupted, spewing what felt like a small torrent down her throat. To his utter amazement, the dark elf arched her back and squealed around his cock, driving herself hard onto the half-orc's fingers.

Carver withdrew just in time. His glans, still dribbling sticky liquid, had barely cleared Lilith's lips when her teeth came together. Her gaze promised a slow, torturous death to whoever she laid eyes upon. The half-orc squeezed Carver's cock before quickly retreating. Waves of energy pulsed through every fiber of his being. Even if it was brief, Lilith had suffered at his hands, fighting for breath and control. It was enough to send a jolt of much-needed power through him.

Lilith gulped twice then laughed heartily. "Any other time I would have ripped your intestines from your body, Morgan Carver. And then I'd choked you with hers," she added, jabbing a finger at the cowering half-orc. "But I'm in a brilliant mood and the two of you-"

There was a sudden, muffled explosion. The reverberations were strong enough to notice even through the thick padding which covered the mating chamber's floor.

Lilith sprang to her feet and clutched at the obsidian spider symbol dangling between her sweat- and cum-stained breasts. A spear-like weapon made from crackling energy appeared in her other hand. "I knew it!" she spat, leveling the weapon at Carver. "It was a trick after all!"

"Do you really think I would spend my time fucking you and your sister if I wanted to take your compound by force?" Carver asked mildly. He looked at Marissa. Thankfully, his court mage knew when to drop the slutty facade. She knelt next to Tanith, her eyes focused on a puddle of liquid between the dark elf's legs. "That's not our people," she muttered, her words seemingly coming from far away. She's scrying using Tanith's secretions and her spit? Carver thought, impressed. "We don't have Living Remembrances," Marissa added.

"What?" Lilith snarled. She warily eyed the images in the puddle on the sheets. There was no mistaking it. A trio of the bloated, distorted spider-dark elf hybrids was at the front of a tightly knit assault force which poured through a smoking hole in the compound's enclosure. Around them milled a multitude of orcs and goblins, madly charging the few surprised defenders in the courtyard. Then came the dark elves, easily recognized by their web-patterned armor. And behind them loomed huge, horned shadows carrying what looked like dismantled siege engines. No obvious insignia or banners though. Whoever was attacking the compound tried to keep a low profile. As inconspicuous as an open act of warfare in a dark elven city can be, Carver thought. It was painfully evident that the Dree'vex compound had been caught by surprise. He had no choice but to render aid to the horny sisters or their deal would die with them.

"Allow me," Carver said, focusing on the courtyard. He touched the scars across his chest which formed the finely chiseled unholy symbol of Desire and asked for a mighty combat spell to slow the invaders. Near the breach in the wall, chaos erupted as a tornado made from swords, daggers, axes, saw blades and nails erupted. The Blade Barrier tore apart one of the Remembrances and obliterated a good amount of the fodder creatures. Sadly most dark elves managed to escape the spell by dodging backwards or levitating away. Nevertheless, the advance had stopped momentarily. Enough time my warriors won't be killed should they struggle with portal sickness, Carver thought. He then sent the agreed-upon call for help.

"What are you-" Lilith gasped.

"He's saving our house, you dolt," Tanith snapped, sitting up. She made a small gesture and her robes sailed across the room, neatly landing around her shoulders.

In the courtyard, three portals opened, emitting painfully bright sunlight. Armed men, skirmishers wielding slings and javelins, poured into the courtyard, followed by heavy infantry in tight formation, brandishing their axe-and-goathead-emblazoned shields. Accompanied by Marissa's apprentices, the archers came next, loosening a cloud of incendiary arrows the moment they had adjusted to their surroundings.

"I think we should join them too," Carver said, patting Lilith's curvy behind. "Marissa, what about that Cleansing spell?"

"Everything for you, Morgan," the naked sorceress said, lithely coming to her feet. She invoked a quick spell and lovingly traced her finger down his spine. The stains and crusted secretions vanished, his hair straightened itself and a whiff of lemongrass surrounded him. His clothes fluttered in from the pile of discarded garments near the door of the chamber and settled around him.

"Thank you," Carver said, cinching his robes shut. He touched runes imbued into his belt, warding himself with magical armor. A moment later, a mace charged with lightning appeared in his hand. Thank you Idunn, for this neat bit of summoning magic, he thought.

Marissa laid a hand on his arm. "Teleport?" she asked.

"By all means. I'm curious to know who intends to sabotage our negotiations."

"Take me along," Tanith snapped. "You will need me to coordinate our forces."

Marissa began the first syllables of the Teleport then interrupted herself. Chuckling, she intoned another quick invocation which created a simple black garment around her. Then she snatched Carver's and Tanith's elbows while her tongue flew threw the knotty syllables of the spell.

A moment later, the relative quiet of the mating chamber was replaced with the furor and stink of battle. Carver, Marissa and Tanith had appeared on top of the bulbous house, granting them a particularly good view of the battle in the courtyard. The sudden appearance of three hundred battle-ready combatants from their sunlit portals had managed to sow even more chaos in the attackers' ranks than the Blade Barrier had.

"You don't know who these invaders are?" Carver asked over the din of battle.

"Only the most brazen followers of Our Queen would dare fly their colors before anything but total victory was assured," Tanith snarled through gritted teeth. "I will have my weapons master's head for this abysmal performance," she added. The disheveled dark elf clasped her own unholy symbol and muttered a litany of words, all the while gesturing towards the corpses piling up in the courtyard. Wisps of energy emanated from her fingers. They glowed with unearthly greenish radiance and settled over the heads of the fallen, not distinguishing between friend or foe. No matter how badly mutilated the bodies were, they began to stir. Within moments, dozens of corpses were shambling towards the attackers.

The doors of the main building flew open and more soldiers poured into the courtyard, whipped into action by a screaming and cursing Lilith.

"Where would I find the leaders?" Carver asked. "In the rear of the formation?"

"Of course," Tanith replied, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she struggled to puppeteer dozens of the undead. "The priestesses are... watching the battle... in safety before delivering... killing blow."