Tender Mercies

Luingirth landed a few minutes after, before the running dwarves, elves, and humans could reach it. From his back dropped Kelnozz, Martin, and Luingirth. As one they approached the side of the crater and looked down, seeing the two massive forms lying intertwined in death.

Speaking to one another in a way that only dragons could, Luingirth and Fyrentennimer had hatched the plan that had just succeeded. While Fyrentennimer would tie up and distract Ancaruin, Luingirth would fly just below him to catch the companions while they jumped. It had worked well, save that Martin had jumped off the wrong side and been missed. It was a harrowing plunge for Luingirth, Kelnozz, and Nordan to make, but they had managed to catch Martin in time.

Now they looked at the gravesite of the eldest and most powerful dragon ever to live on Viconia. Also, the grave of the bravest and most noble dragon. Twisted about one another, one keeping the other at bay.

"Is that it then?" Throin said a few moments later, staring down at them with a grin.

"Aye friend, it's over," Kelnozz said, knowing it was not.

"Bah, there's an army over that chasm! They've yet to be dealt with!" Nordan pointed out.

"With Ancaruin destroyed and Alesha missing, they have nothing to hold them together," Martin said, understand the look in Kelnozz's eye. "But you're not finished with it yet, are you Kel?"

Kelnozz smirked. "Not yet, I need to find Alesha and make sure none of this happens again."

"I have another offer for you Kelnozz."

Not recognizing the voice, all of them turned about to see who was speaking to the dark elf. A group of beings walked towards them, coming down from the very skies to stand in front of them. Three of them stood there, each resplendent and clearly divine. A man wearing some sort of fantastical leathers, with a bastard sword at each side and one upon his back, as well as an obviously magical bow. Another man wearing shining full plate mail, with the visor up to reveal a ruggedly handsome face. And the final man they knew well, for it was Helmut standing with them.

"Helmut, what is this?" Nordan asked, stepping forward.

Helmut grinned and shimmered before their very eyes. Now he appeared much taller, topping even Nordan by enough to put him over seven feet in height. Shining brown hair that came to his shoulders, bright green eyes, and a grin that defied them all. On his back, instead of the two handed sword they had seen Helmut use, was a hammer that looked like a copy of Nordan's. Or perhaps Nordan's was the copy.

"Son, I am Garrick Hammerthane, not Helmut Helmsmasher. Nor are you a Helmsmasher, though you bore the name proudly," Garrick said, his grin still evident.

"And I have heard you speak to me many times as well, grandson," The woodsman of the trio said, looking at Martin.

Martin's jaw dropped and he fell to his knees, "Grandfather!" He whispered, tears springing to his eyes when he saw the man had one arm fashioned from mithril, just as he did.

Kelnozz looked back and forth between them all. Fair enough, he supposed, Martin and the man claiming to be Carson bore a strong resemblance, as did Nordan and Garrick. But that did not explain the other strange visitor, the one that had spoken to him.

"And who are you, looking so regal and important?" Kelnozz said dryly.

"I am Celos Lyonsbane, you have done me a service as well, elf, by returning one who had fallen from my grace to me. He wishes you well, and considers you his truest friend in life," the third God said.

"All well and good, but that's hardly a reason for you all to visit us just to say hi," Kelnozz returned, his suspicions rising.

"Ha! You never change, elf... even when facing Gods you're still an ass!" Garrick laughed loudly, causing Kelnozz to blush slightly but not deflecting his curiosity.

"You are right, Kelnozz, all of you we have watched, and at times helped. But more so, you have been tested. All of you had to overcome personal weakness. You're skills and understanding have grown greatly, we have chosen you worthy of new roles in life, if you would accept them." Celos studied each man for a few brief seconds, staring deeply into their eyes.

"What would you have of me, Grandfather?" Martin had regained his feet but the look of pride upon his face was unmistakable.

"Take my place, Martin," Carson said, a twinkle in his eye. "Take my place as the God of the woodlands, I have done it for a long time now and I fear that I am tired of it. I yearn to just be a simple man again, alone in nature or perhaps sitting with friends in a quiet tavern gambling."

Martin's eyes grew wide and his lips parted. He looked to his companions, stunned and looking for help.

"I am much the same, Nordan, I have done this to long and known power to great, I feel no challenge anymore. My position is yours, if you will have it," Garrick clapped Nordan on the back, knocking him out of his own moment of stunned surprise.

"No," Kelnozz said, staring at Celos, "I'm not interested in becoming a God!"

Celos chuckled then, his stern demeanor cracking. "Worry not, dark one, the offer was not extended. You have no divine blood within you, nor are there any willing to relinquish their roles in the pantheon. To you falls a different decision. You have been the champion of the elves, now you have the option of becoming Viconia's chosen one."

"Chosen one?" Kelnozz said, his mouth dry. "Is this a tournament?"

"Nay, far from it. Alesha was chosen by Bavorish and the other fey Gods, and it was a choice she was seduced into, yet she made it of her own will. To you goes the same choice."

"Ancaruin is slain, Alesha is no longer on this world," Kelnozz said, "what would you need of me?"

"I'll do it!" Nordan suddenly said, a look of childlike wonder in his eyes. Kelnozz glanced at him, realizing that both Nordan and Martin were caught in their own decisions, and paid no attention to what Celos and he were discussing.

"Very well, Nordan, then let the power be yours," Garrick, grinned happily and shook his sons hand. When Nordan gripped it, he was suddenly overwhelmed as what had been his life suddenly changed.

To his right, Kelnozz saw Martin undergoing the same transformation. He had missed hearing him accept the offer, but he knew instantly that Martin would take it. His companions were no longer mere friends and travelers, but something far greater. That left Kelnozz with his own troubles.

"What say you, elf?" Celos asked again.

"Let me think on it, hopefully I will know by the time I return," Kelnozz said, uncertain of his own wishes.

"Return from where?" Celos asked, surprised for perhaps the first time in his tenure as the God of Duty and Loyalty.

"From Earth," Kelnozz said casually. "I believe that is where Alesha has gone back too, if she is not stopped, she will return."

Celos smiled then, for he could see that Kelnozz was already filling the role he had hoped for. "Well enough, Kelnozz, seek out the Tavern of the Broken Axe, I believe it has a door in Sanctuary."

Kelnozz was a little puzzled by Celos' words, but he chose not to speak of them. He figured the less time spent with a God, the less chance he had of getting himself in trouble. "My thanks," he offered instead.

"How will you let us know of your decision?" Celos asked.

Kelnozz smirked, "I'll find a way, don't worry."

Celos nodded, a hint of a smile on his face as well. He turned to leave then, but stopped, as if torn with indecision. Finally he spoke again. "Know this, Kelnozz, this world is far from safe. Ancaruin is dead, but not destroyed."

Kelnozz opened his mouth to ask what Celos meant, but the God had already turned on him again and began to walk away. In moments, he disappeared altogether. Kelnozz turned then to his companions - former companions, that is. They to were leaving him without a word. So caught up in their new roles were they, they had forgotten themselves.

"Well then, what now?" Kelnozz said, seeing Garrick and Carson watching Nordan and Martin disappear.

"For me, a game of chance, some fine wine, and a willing woman!" Carson said, laughing lightly and heading back towards the army.

"A good plan," Garrick said, nodding thoughtfully. "But after what I went through with Alesha, I think I'd like to help you give that bitch some payback! What say you elf, care for a friend on the road?"

Kelnozz chuckled. "Barbarians tend to get me in trouble," he muttered. "But, for a relative of Nordan's, how could I say no?"

"First, I must be sure that Ancaruin's army is done with. Then I must find his lair and return the stone to the dragon portal to release the Forbidding. Then we can go after Alesha."

"Look then, elf, and know that the first two quests are taken care of," Garrick said.

Kelnozz followed his outstretched arm and saw that the evil army had indeed begun breaking up. Several fights had broken out, but for the most part, the orcs, elves, giants, ogres, and others were going back home. Ancaruin had been the only thing that had held them together, and with him slain, they had no great fear to keep them.

"What of the gem? You said 2 quests were fulfilled?"

"Ancaruin himself was the fifth gem. Instead of infusing an item with the power of the key, he took it into himself," Garrick explained. "By slaying him, that power is released and the final lock on the forbidding undone."

Kelnozz looked to where the metallic dragons were recovering from their wounds. Though it was a distance away, they did indeed look to be resting easier. Satisfied, he nodded to Throin, who stood by stoically, in spite of all that had happened.

"King Throin, would you have someone find Vallanius and tell him of what occurred. I will be back," Kelnozz paused for a moment then grinned. "Sooner or later, that is! For now, I have to finish this before the people of Belurian can begin to worry about what comes next."

Throin scowled, but nodded. Then he started chuckling, something rare in a dwarf. "Aye elf, get ye gone, me boys will take care of it!"

Throin turned to leave, then came back around and looked at Garrick, "Ye made a fine God, Garrick, tis me pleasure to meet ye."

Throin left then, with Garrick grinning like a fool with Kelnozz. "Come dragon, let's be on our way!" Luingirth snorted in derision, but lowered himself down regardless.

"I've never ridden a blue one before," Garrick said to himself as he hopped onto Luingirth's back. "Hey elf, you don't need the key, but I do know where Ancaruin's lair is..."

Kelnozz smirked, a little touch of a dragon horde that had treasures from other worlds did seem like a fitting way to celebrate. "Tell Luingirth the way, my friend, a bit of a diversion along the way can't hurt!"

Chapter 18

The woman was just a few inches over five feet tall. With dirty blond hair cropped at her shoulder length and emerald green eyes, she could catch any mans eye for at least a moment. To her dismay, she had caught a few women's eyes as well over the years with her flirtatious manner, ready smile, and abundant wit. It had also worked against her in the past, and was about to do so again.

Pamela was on her daily walk through the mostly tamed lands of Ireland, to the North and West of Eglinton. One of her favorite walks was along the beach, but some workers doing construction on the road had made her decide to take a less often used route, through the forest and hills past a graveyard and an old abandoned keep.

In her natural good spirits, she enjoyed the warm weather the day was providing and moved along at an unhurried pace. Drawing near the graveyard, she heard some men talking nearby. Still not concerned, she was nevertheless curious. The voyeur in her made her smile to herself as she moved more carefully towards the origin of the sound. Slipping behind a tree, she peered around it and saw a group of men gathered together near the low stone wall of the graveyard, discussing something heatedly. They were still some 40 feet away, but her instincts suddenly screamed in her ear that something was wrong. She turned to flee but was stopped by the sight of a grinning man standing behind her.

"What have we here?" The man asked rhetorically, grinning lecherously at her and speaking in the baroque common to those from the emerald isle.

Pamela's wits deserted her then, and terror took over. She stammered out something about being on a walk but was silenced quickly by the man who grabbed onto her arm.

"Shaun, what're ya doin?" One of the other men called out, seeing the lone guard preoccupied.

The man named Shaun pulled Pamela out from behind the tree and grinned at the others. "We've got a visitor."

Pamela's speech returned to her then, and she said quickly, "I was just going for a walk down the trail! I did'na see a thing!" She was almost limp in Shaun's grasp, however, and let him pull her towards the others easily.

"She's seen to much, methinks," Another man said, who appeared to be the leader of the small band.

Pamela glanced down then and saw several bags laying on the ground between all of them. Out of one of them was sticking the barrel of a gun. She shook her head quickly and tried to protest, but the man had stepped forward and slapped her across the face before she could say anything.

"What do we do with her, Connor?" Shaun asked, a suggestive smile on his face while he held her still. He had no need, however, for with the slap, Pamela had gone still and submissive, her terror taking control of her body and her one thought was to do whatever they asked of her so that she might survive.

"Throw her off the cliff," One man suggested.

Connor, the leader, looked at the man and pondered the idea for a moment before he nodded, "Aye Patrick, a good idea. Shaun, you and Ryan take her up to the keep, we'll be up as soon as we've buried these." Connor nodded to the guns to indicate that was what he meant.

Shaun pulled Pamela after him, winking at Ryan on his way past. Ryan returned the grin and moved ahead of them on the trail. Pamela was certain that she was going to die now, unless she acted out and did something. She was afraid to act though, for both men towered over her short form, and each looked like they could easily overpower her and outrun her. Such was the curse of being a small woman, even though she kept herself in shape, genetics were not on her side.

As she grew accustomed to the terror, her mind began to work again. She thought up and discarded plan after plan to escape. She knew her two captors would take her up to the keep and rape her at least once each, then the others would come and probably all take their turns as well before they tired of her and cast her from the edge of the cliff the keep sat on, into the Atlantic ocean far below.

Timed moved too quickly, for by the time she had thought up and abandoned half a dozen escape plans, the open gate of the keep loomed before them. Small by any standards, the keep was little more then a tall circular wall with a lone tower in the middle of it. Abandoned ages past, it had once been connected to a larger castle nearby, and had been used to store ice and other consumable goods in it.

It was in this tower that they took her, and with rope they produced from somewhere, they tied her to an ancient wooden support that ran from the floor to the top of the tower. Pam's breathing started coming faster then, they had her facing the pole, with her arms wrapped as far around it as they could go, then her wrists were tied. Then she heard the sound of a knife being drawn from its sheath, and she started to really panic. She tried to scream, but her voice was caught in her throat.

The knife was placed at her throat then. "Not a peep from you lass, got it?" Shaun breathed in her ear. Pamela nodded as best she could, tears running down her cheeks.

Her shorts and panties were pulled down next, and cruel hands grabbed her ankles and forced her feet out of them. Her firm ass was left on display for them, and one of the men reached out and grabbed it roughly before the other tied another rope around her ankle and looped it around the pole and then tied it to her other ankle, forcing her legs to remain spread apart. Pam whimpered then, a subconscious act brought on by the rape they were about to perform on her.

"Shut her up!" Ryan hissed, not liking the sounds she was making. Shaun grabbed up her panties from the ground and shoved them into her mouth, following it with another length of rope tied around her face to act as a gag. Pam became acutely aware of the rough fibers of the nylon rope scratching against her cheeks, and she strained to figure out what the men were going to do to her next.

She felt them fondling her ass again next, with one of them probing none to delicately at her asshole. She cringed and tightened up, trying to deny them entry, but that just made it hurt more as the finger thrust against her rectum. With a muffled sob, she felt the finger break through and impale her anus. Contented by that victory, the hand withdrew from her bottom and slid lower, pulling and pinching at the lips of her pussy.

Through her misery, she dimly heard another man's voice, but she did not understand a word that was said. The hands were withdrawn from her body then. Sobbing quietly, she overheard the sounds of a very brief struggle. Metal on metal, then the wet chopping sound. Another sound was that of a man having his breath knocked out of him, and then she saw a body flying past her field of vision. It was one of her would be rapists, flying through the air with his arms windmilling crazily. Her crying stopped suddenly, realizing the man was at least ten feet off the ground and still going up! She heard him thud into the wall of the stone tower, then he hit the ground.

She heard two separate voices that time, from behind her. She tried to turn her head to see what was going on, but she was unable to. Still she could not understand what she was being told. Of all the things to realize, she suddenly remembered her naked ass was proudly displayed for the whole world to see, and her cheeks flushed with color at the further humiliation. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying that this was a nightmare and she would soon awaken. When she opened them again, she found that she was still there, but the ropes binding her to the pole had been cut. The one gagging her was soon severed as well, allowing her to turn and see her benefactors.

Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and her nudity and embarrassment was forgotten. One of them was a black man, 6 and a half feet tall or so, with long blond hair so pale it was nearly white, and eyes that looked red in the dim light of the tower. The other was a white man, looking like an ancient Viking at just over seven feet tall. The white man had unkempt brown hair that came to his shoulders and bright green eyes.

What was even more alarming to her was their dress. Each of them wore clothing and equipment reminiscent of the middle ages. The black man wore a dark blue tunic and breeches, with the sleeves tucked into black bands of metal around his forearms. His pants were likewise tucked into high boots that were made from some strange leather she had never seen before. At his waist rode a belt that had many things attached to it, from a couple of pouches to a sheathed sword at each hip. A nice black hooded cloak hung from his back as well. The giant, as she had instantly come to think of him, wore a similar pair of boots, but other then a similar earring shaped like a dolphin they both wore in their left ear, the similarity died there. A large hammer was on his back, and on his chest was a crimson colored shirt that was open to reveal much of his finely chiseled chest. His breeches were brown, like the other mans, and while archaic, seemed normal enough.