When Gods Quarrel

When Gods Quarrel

Aranthir X

Warning: this story contains scenes of a nonconsensual nature

There was something ominous on the wind. Tsepan rubbed the standing hairs on the back of his neck and looked around the temple garden of Nystra. It was a beautiful day, made even more so by the rows of flowers he and his acolytes tended to daily. Roses, tulips, orchids, and a hundred other flowering plants grew in the gardens, a beautiful riot of color and yet pleasingly arranged so as not to shock the eye. Further off, he could see other acolytes and temple servants working in the orchard, all under the watchful eye of Nia, the temple prioress.

Yet Tsepan could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had felt it for days now, and he had not been the only one. Nia remained unconvinced, but Tsepan had at last convinced her second Darkar and the older man had left with two acolytes earlier in the morning to consult with the hierophant in Fellhaven. But the trip would take at least three days, and Tsepan's unease had only intensified since the three had left.

"Groundskeeper?" Tsepan turned at the voice. It was Thakol, a fellow priest of thirty, with long black hair tied behind his head. He knelt in a flowerbed, with fresh soil spread all around his knees. "What is it?" Thakol asked. "You seem troubled."

"It is nothing," Tsepan reassured him. "I was just thinking of Darkar and the others on the road. There are many reports of bandits, now that the king's men are away fighting the Beast of Saeclar."

"They will be alright," Thakol said with confidence. "No bandit would dare harm a priest."

"The gods protect," Tsepan intoned, and Thakol nodded.

"The gods protect," he agreed. "Now, what about these tulips? Red or green?"

Tsepan sighed and considered a moment. "Red," he decided at last. Thakol nodded and returned to his planting. Tsepan turned away and continued on down the garden path. The brick paths were laid out like the lines of a rose petal, and the design was evident when viewed from the top of the temple, looking out from the dome over the fields and woods below the hilltop temple. The paths ran in circuits around the interior of the temple grounds' fenced-in expanse, leading visitors through the beautiful gardens instead of directly to the temple's doors. It was important to enjoy life's beauty instead of hurrying everywhere. The sacred texts said as much.

Tsepan stopped as he came to the intersection of several paths. Here were arranged benches and a small fountain for sitting, accompanied by a fountain and a marble statue of Nystra. The statue stood at the center of this section of the garden, mounted on a short plinth. It depicted their goddess Nystra in a dance, long golden hair flowing behind her and an ivory harp in her hand. The statue was clothed in silk, a sacred garment that the temple acolytes were responsible for keeping cleaned and mended, even though the goddess herself liked to be naked as often as not. Tsepan gently took the hem of the dress in his hand and examined a small tear.

"Zora," he called, and the young priestess appeared at his side. "The Lady's dress is tearing. Please see that it is repaired tonight."

"Yes, Tsepan," she replied. "I will do that right now." She turned and headed back toward the temple, and Tsepan watched her go. She was a beautiful young woman, blessed by the goddess with good looks, a gentle demeanor, and poise. He tried to brush away his unease as he thought ahead to the next sacred orgy when he would have the opportunity to fuck her again. Perhaps she would be amenable to sharing his bed tonight?

He cut off as a second priestess approached. She was Ambra, a young woman recently arrived from another temple in Broidha. She was fair-skinned, slender, and almost as tall as he was. Her copper hair flowed in the light breeze, and Tsepan sighed to himself. Nystra had blessed their temple with so many beauties, he could not help but feel like the goddess was looking down on them and smiling. So why then did he feel so uneasy?

Ambra carried a potted orange tree in her hands, clearly having difficulty managing its weight. She staggered to the statue's plinth and set the tree down. She leaned herself against the plinth, her breath coming in short as she let her arms hang limp by her side.

"Is that too heavy for you?" Tsepan asked kindly. Ambra looked up guiltily.

"No, groundskeeper. I can manage. I just need a rest for a moment."

Tsepan stepped up closer. "It's alright, Ambra. I'm happy to help. They really shouldn't have you carrying this by yourself."

"I... thank you, groundskeeper. I'll help in just a moment, I need to rest my arms."

Tsepan lifted the pot off the ground by himself, always proud to show off his strength. "Don't worry about it, Ambra. I'll carry it myself. But once you're rested, someone needs to clean the leaves out of the piscina."

Ambra nodded and headed back toward the temple. Tsepan smiled to himself as he carried the potted tree back the way he had come to meet Thakol near the outer wall. He passed the other gardener and set the tree down on the walk that led to a gate in the temple's stone outer wall. The bronze gate was shut, its face sculpted with scenes of people dancing, singing, eating, bathing, and fucking, all delighting in the pleasures of being alive and in the company of others.

Tsepan found himself looking forward to the nightly meal with all of the temple's residents after a good day's work. The temple's tenants provided them with good wine, rich bread, fruits, and fish from the river. The temple's own gardens provided vegetables, and the orchards they had been cultivating for several years were now growing heavy with fruit of their own. Tsepan licked his lips in anticipation of the dinner now only a few hours away.

"We're planting this, too?" Thakol asked as he wiped sweat from his brow. Tsepan nodded, pointing to the empty place in the row of orange trees lining the walk.

"I've gotten tired of looking at the gap," he replied. "I think we can get this done before dark, don't you?"

"We'll need some help," Thakol said. He shrugged as he looked at the potted tree. "But we can do it. Grab a shovel."

Tsepan stopped as he caught a whiff of something foul on the wind. It was a rank scent of an animal, mixed with sweat and blood. He turned into the wind and felt his eyes go wide.

Over the temple wall dropped a monstrous, hairy beast. It alit on two legs like a man, but Tsepan could see its feet were cloven hooves like those of a bull. Its head was also like that of a bull, with two curved horns jutting forward from a bovine head whose red eyes shone with hungry malice. A pair of thickly muscled arms hefted a cruel, jagged axe and it bellowed with fury.

Tsepan felt his limbs grow weak with terror, and it only deepened as more of the monsters surged over the wall. They each bellowed as they hit the ground, and Tsepan's cry of warning sputtered in his dry throat.

The monsters charged, bearing down on the two men with terrifying speed. Tsepan heard Thakol's spade drop to the brick and something in the clattering sound spurred him to action. He turned tail and ran, blundering madly over the carefully arranged and tended flowerbeds toward the safety of the temple's doors. The thunder of hooves grew louder behind him, he heard someone scream, but he dared not look back. He tore past the statue of Nystra in a mad dash and cried out to the goddess for protection.

Without waiting for a response, he ran up the temple steps and into its airy atrium. The acolytes and servants gathered around him, eyes wide and faces pale.

"What's happening? Why do you run?" they cried. Breathless, Tsepan pointed toward the garden, where others were running from.

"Monsters! Beasts, minotaurs!" he gasped, his chest heaving. "Bar the doors!"

They ran to the doors and windows and looked out into the gardens. Tsepan felt them hold their breath as he gasped and panted for his own. Then came the blood-curdling roar again, and the minotaurs burst from the garden, making for the temple door.

"Shut the door!" boomed a commanding voice, and the prioress Nia emerged into the temple's atrium. Her acolytes rushed to obey. The door banged shut and a heavy locking bar fell into place behind it. The minotaurs were locked out, along with any too slow to reach safety. Tsepan suddenly thought of Thakol. Still panting with terror, he ran to the window and looked out.

A half dozen minotaurs were milling outside the temple's front door, cruel weapons of black iron and bone in their hands. They suddenly stopped and turned away from the temple. Hope sprang in Tsepan's chest, he thought they were about to leave. But instead, another minotaur emerged from the orchard. This one was even more monstrous than the others, standing a head taller and broader than its companions. Its thick, muscular frame was covered in russet hair and crisscrossed with scars. Against its shoulder it rested a heavy club of bone and banded iron.

Tsepan's breath caught when he saw that in its other hand, the minotaur carried a human head. He could not make out the face with his eyes, but his mind now made out the origin of the scream he had heard as he ran from Thakol. The monster strode forward toward the steps of the temple and contemptuously tossed the head onto the steps, where it landed with a sickening thud. It bounced against the door, then back and rolled down the steps to come to a halt.

Tsepan was not the only one to gasp or scream when it at last came to a halt, rolling to its side to stare at the gawking acolytes with Thakol's lifeless eyes.

"Hear me, little children of Nystra!" the russet-furred minotaur roared in the Obreath tongue or Asharas. "I am Myrias, chosen of Erchasos. I bring a message from the King of the Wilds. Your goddess has offended him, and so I am sent to punish you. For now, you may cower inside your temple, but it will not save you long. I will return on the morrow and finish what I started. Gather your champions and prepare to make your stand, or abandon this temple to the wilds. I care not. By sunset tomorrow, none of Nystra's chosen will dwell within these walls."

Nia stepped past Tsepan to lean through the window. The prioress was terrified, he could tell, but also furious.

"In the centuries that this temple has stood," she called from the window, "none have dared to profane its grounds with murder! Not even those of the Wild God! You will hear Nystra's answer, beast, and remember that while the Lady of Tits and Wine is goddess of soft words and silken pillows, she also answers the prayers of cruel torturers and those who delight in the slaughter!"

"Then she answers mine!" Myrias roared back. "For I like little better than to hack and split skulls. For my victory feast, I drink the blood of my enemies and feast on their red flesh! Your taunts do not scare me, mortal. Tomorrow, I will return to rip out your tongue and eat your heart raw."

The other minotaurs bellowed and beat their chests with their fists. Myrias sneered in triumph, then he suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. Tsepan felt an icy grip of fear close about him. Myrias turned and plunged into the flowers. There came a terrified scream and a mocking laugh of triumph before the minotaur emerged again, dragging Zora by her hair.

"No," Tsepan heard himself gasp, and many of the other acolytes cried out in horror as well. Nia stood still as stone, her mouth working in wordless motion. Zora clutched at the monstrous hands clutching her hair and grimaced toward the temple windows.

"Ha, ha! What have we here?" Myrias roared in triumph. "A pretty little thing she is." His monstrous hand seized the front of her dress and tore it off in one savage motion. Tsepan swallowed at the sight of Zora's naked body, exposed to the bestial gazes of these monsters. The other minotaurs closed in about her, eyes hungry. Zora screamed and kicked at them, but her futile resistance elicited only amusement.

"We have to help her!" Ambra cried, but Tsepan stood still. They had no weapons here, instead trusting in the protection of the goddess herself.

"What can we do but pray?" Nia said quietly.

"But they're going to kill her!" Ambra protested, and Tsepan's eyes dropped to the floor. The other acolytes said nothing. From outside there came another scream, and Tsepan's eyes were wrenched from the stone temple floor to the scene unfolding in the garden.

Zora was struggling in the grasp of Myrias, her supple body twisting and writhing in vain. The hulking minotaur held her by his hand while his other hand reached under the thick kilt of leather and drew forth his cock. It was a thick, veiny member; grotesque, powerful, and utterly inhuman. Zora screamed when she saw it, and the other minotaurs shook with bestial laughter. They took drew out their cocks, stroking them in eager anticipation.

Myrias shoved Zora to her knees, his cock waving in her face as she clenched her jaw shut. Her eyes stared defiantly up at him, a cruel smile on his monstrous face.

"Please it, whore of Nystra," Myrias demanded, and Zora spat on his cock. With a big, meaty hand, he slapped her across the face. Tsepan felt the impact of the slap himself and shuddered, but Zora was knocked nearly to the ground. Only the death grip the minotaur held on her hair kept her partially upright. Zora shuddered and looked away.

Tsepan tried to look away himself, knowing what was coming, but could not tear his eyes from the horrible spectacle unfolding before him. None of the acolytes could. They all stood stunned at the window as the lead minotaur pinched Zora's nose closed until at last she opened her mouth, gasping for air, and he forced his thick, veiny cock into her mouth.

The monster thrust his cock into her mouth, one hand closed about her skull as he held it still. The five others crowded around, briefly obscuring Zora from sight before Myrias waved them away.

"I want you to watch!" he roared, violently fucking Zora's pretty face. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks, running black with the mascara she usually wore. The minotaur's lips curled back in a cruel smile, baring jagged teeth. "This will be the rest of you tomorrow!"

Zora sobbed around the cock in her mouth, her whole body shaking as she did. Myrias laughed at her, then yanked his cock out of her mouth. "Bend over," he growled, pulling down his leather kilt. Zora squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.

"No, no," she pleaded. "Goddess protect me!"

Myrias grabbed her and threw her to the ground. Zora screamed and tried to crawl away, but the minotaur seized her with a thick hand around her slender waist and pulled her up onto her hands and knees. Zora turned toward her fellow acolytes in the temple, one arm outstretched and pleading. Tsepan could not move. His arms hung limp by his sides, his legs would not obey his command to run. Whether he was telling himself to run away or run to her aid, he could not tell himself. Could not admit to himself.

Zora's green eyes bored a hole in his soul, her pink lips working in a wordless plea for help. The minotaur dragged her to him, pressing his fat, hideous cock against her sex as he squatted over her.

"Please," Tsepan saw the word forming on Zora's lips, though he could not hear the sound of it. But he could do nothing, not even look away.

Myrias shoved his cock into the miserable girl in one powerful thrust. Zora's eyes went wide, her mouth dropped open, and she fell to the ground. A horrified, pained scream escaped her throat, only to be strangled by the minotaur's hand as it closed about her white neck. Myrias grunted with lust, slamming his bulk down against her white body and driving her to the ground again. The other minotaurs crowded closer, hands on their cocks and eyes on the girl.

Myrias hauled her back up to her hands and knees before another thrust of his cock set her shaking again.

"Goddess, help!" she cried, but the minotaurs only laughed. In the monsters' grasp, she could do nothing but scream and take it. Myrias pulled on her hair, arching her back until he could look into her face. She shut her eyes, pleading with him to let her go, but she received no response except the pounding of a huge cock into her tight young body.

The minotaur snarled and stopped his thrusting for a moment. He laced his arms under her knees and behind her head, lifting her clean off the ground while still impaled on his cock. He stood up, the poor girl's arms flailing about as he slammed her down onto his cock again. The other minotaurs crowded in close, clutching at her little breasts. One caught her face in his powerful hand and held it still. He stared into her eyes, stroking his cock as she cringed before him. The beast growled a mocking laugh, and Tsepan saw Zora's cringing fear turned to hate.

She spat at the beast, the glob of spittle landing in its scraggly beard. The monster laughed, a horrible sound that set Tsepan's hair on end. Then the minotaur slapped her across the face again, grabbed her breasts in both hands and twisted.

Zora screamed again, and Myrias' thrusting quickened its pace. She flopped about in his iron grasp, legs and arms flailing in the air as the beast fucked her and came at last. Zora sagged on the monster's cock, and it slumped out of her, trailing a line of sickly white cum. The girl sobbed, but her torment was only beginning.

Myrias pushed her forward, and the minotaur she had spit on took her in his arms. Zora's face, streaked with tears, contorted in pain once again as the second minotaur penetrated her. The beast pressed her close to him as he fucked, her long legs thrown over both shoulders and her arms limply draped around his shoulders. Tsepan could see little of her other than her limbs flailing and her face resting against the monster's hairy shoulder.

The minotaurs seemed to notice, and the one fucking her turned profile so that all in the temple might see his huge, veiny cock thrusting into Zora. The girl hung in his arms, too beaten and broken to even sob now, until he came in her as well and handed her off to the next waiting monster.

So it went on until all six of them had ravished her and filled her with their seed. When at last they were finished, they dropped her to the ground where she lay unmoving. Tsepan feared she was not, perhaps hoped that she was dead, but Myrias stepped up to her and pulled her head up by her hair. Zora hung limp in his grasp, but did manage a small, pathetic sob.

Myrias snorted derisively and looked around. His red eyes alit on the sacred statue of Nystra and he cocked his head to one side. Ambling toward it, he seized the gossamer gown in a thick, gnarled hand and tore it off the statue. Fixing his eyes on the horrified acolytes in the temple, he wiped his dribbling cock with the goddess' raiment. Tsepan heard someone whimper with despair at the beast's casual blasphemy. It might have even been him.

The big minotaur tossed aside the torn cloth, then reached down and wound a hand through Zora's hair to pull her up to a sitting position.

"She'll make a delightful little morsel," he laughed, a heavy, guttural belly laugh that shook the whole garden. "We're taking her back to camp!"

Myrias slung the naked, sobbing girl over his shoulder. He turned back to the temple window, where Tsepan and the others still stood slackjawed.

"We will be back on the morrow. Those of you who remain will die and we will feast on your flesh. Then we will return this temple to our Father's domain. Its walls will be broken, the gardens torn up, and the earth left to grow wild. In time, none will remember that the Lady of Tits and Wine ever kept her foolish children here, and our quarrel will be settled.