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"Of the seven Magi Towers that exist on the continent of Selebore, none has as varied a history as that of Juinkarr.

The existence of an Aetherfontes somewhere in the Curndor Mountains had been a source of speculation since the official declaration of the Circle of Five, but several quests to find it ended in failure or the disappearance of the searching party. It was eventually discovered during the later stages of the First Orc War.

However, the black fortress, which would later be discovered was called Juinkarr, had already been built on top of it by then. When it was built and how long it had stood there remains a mystery to this day, but it was already a powerful city with strong, defensive structures. Only after a lengthy siege, was the black fortress finally overrun by the Second Alliance of Light and destroyed, bringing the First Orc War to an end.

Yet, even though the war was won, rebuilding and occupying Juinkarr proved a nearly impossible task, for the Turundorth Valley provided easy access from the Shadowlands and regular raids by well-organized orc parties disrupted any attempts to rebuild the tower and incorporate it into the Circle of Five. However, the Shadowspawn themselves were also unable to completely push the humans' forces out either. This was mostly due to the constant infighting that is a predominant aspect of the orc culture.

Therefore, the tower remained a broken ruin for more than a century, constantly fought over with no real progress achieved by either side. That was until the traitorous magi sect known as the Bloodhands managed to settle in a hidden corner of the ruins.

These 'Bloodhands' were a group of magi of noble birth and were lead by Leradde of Naeve, the disgruntled crown prince who was forced to abdicate when he started to learn how to mold Mana. For, as per the Bloodstorm treaty, no-one who has the ability and knowledge to mold Mana may be placed in a position of authority over those who cannot, and vice verca. Therefore, this group of magi were committed to toppling the authority of the Circle of Five and the Five Kingdoms alike and thereby establishing a magi empire that would rule over all of Selebore.

From their headquarters in the ruins of Juinkarr, today referred to as the Blood Tower, they launched several successful terrorist attacks against all members of the Circle of Five and the authorities of the Five Kingdoms alike. And with no one linking their activities to the Shadowlands, the Blood Tower remained undiscovered.

However, their greatest act of treason was undoubtedly the creation and use of a collection of artifacts, of immense power and dubious aptitudes, such as the infamous sword Helegnal amongst others. The complete collection is called the Juinkarr Hallows and together, these objects are capable of breaking open an aetherfontes, thereby creating an unobstructed pathway between the ordered Epangelia and the chaotic Barathrum. When the Bloodhands broke open the aetherfontes at the heart of Juinkarr it changed the world irrevocably, an event that today is known as The Shattering.

What exactly happened to the lower ranks of the Bloodhands during The Shattering remains a bit of a mystery, but it is known that their version of a Council of Elders, the seven individuals that actively participated in the Breaking of the Veil, became the terrifying demon lords of the new Juinkarr that terrorized Selebore during the Dark Age."

Extract from "The Seven Towers of Magic" by Evans Brightheart, renowned historian of the Second Age.

***

Merec sighed as he wiped at his face and stumbled down the street. He shouldn't be this tired. He only fired arrows at targets he mostly couldn't see, unlike those who actually had been fighting on the wall. Those poor souls must be out on their feet right now, even though there hadn't been any renewed attempt by the orcs to capture the wall.

Then again, the threat of another attack was enough to have him restless, even though he knew that there were watchers on duty. And he wasn't alone. Most people he passed was tired, yet unable to get anything more than a quick catnap of rest.

He passed the Town Hall and was surprised to see Lainah still at her post. The silvery draine was laying down comfortably, watching over the children of the town as they were inspecting her, too excited about the friendly dragon to be even thinking of sleeping. Three of the women tasked with looking after the youngsters sat nearby, keeping a wary eye on her and the children, but interestingly enough they allowed them to interact with the draine for the time being. And the children seemed reluctant to venture too far away from their large protector as well.

For a moment, Merec considered walking over to her, to hear how she was holding up. But he caught sight of her expression in the light of a torch as she watched the children and he thought better of it. She seemed on the verge of crying again, obviously remembering previous clutches she had taken care of, which in turn turned her thoughts back to her smashed eggs. Yet there was also a genuine smile on her muzzle, which suggested that she was honoured and grateful to be allowed to help watch over the children.

It might be best to let her be for now and not spoil the tranquil mood. They can chat when the children are not around.

He continued on towards the Trapper's Rest, where he had last heard Gahntuar was at when a bout of joyous laughter caught his attention. The sound seemed so out of place, and curiosity drove him towards the river. Only, when he found the source of the excitement, he wished he had ignored it.

The carcass of the green dragon that was killed earlier the night, had been dragged to a clearing between the Gryphon's Roost and the river. Already, a large group of dragonslayers was hard at work busy butchering the creature for the valuable products.

The skin had already been removed and three of the slayers were busy carefully removing the scales without damaging the valuable skin, and treating them so that they would retain their natural strength and shine. For if it is not done, the scales would become dull and brittle quickly, while the tanning process itself softened the scales completely. The scales are usually reattached to the tanned leather later when making armour, or they could be sold separately to jewellers to carve something from.

But it was not just the skin they were after. Behind them, the rest were busy cutting up and salting the meat. And once that was done, the skeleton would also be cleaned and processed, also to be sold to jewellers or carpenters for carving purposes.

Merec felt suddenly sick and the bit of day-old bread he had managed to get for a quick bite threatened to make an escape. He turned away and took a breath in the hope of clearing his mind. At least they had the decency to do their butchering where the two dragons in town would not see.

"You're the guy that is friends with the dragon, right?" a voice suddenly asked him.

Merec sighed to himself. Since the orcs withdrew an hour or so before, that was the question he had been asked almost constantly and without fail. At least it didn't carry the usual animosity from the last few years which he had come to regard as normal anymore. Instead, the question had become one of genuine interest.

"Yeah," he replied tiredly and turned to look at who was talking to him. He blinked in surprise when he noticed that it was an equine, dressed in dragon leather armour with bright blue scales stitched in place.

"I know what you are thinking," the horse said, regarding the scene by the river. "But let me tell you that we are not all heartless."

"Still, that was a sentient creature that is now being butchered," Merec growled angrily. The thought did occur to him that the dead dragon had attacked the town to get to Gahntuar, but still, there was something wrong about treating anyone like that.

"So it turns out," the dragonslayer replied as if still surprised by the fact. "But after putting so much into coming here for those dragons of yours, only to hear that the bounty on him and his mate had been revoked, most of us feared going under. With the products from this one at least, we can keep our heads above water when we return to Kerrathien."

"I guess you have a point," Merec sighed, too tired to complain further. "But I still don't have to like it."

"I didn't ask you to, only to understand," the horse said with a smile. Merec looked at him again, just in time to see him scowling at the scene himself.

"You seemed to be having second thoughts on the matter yourself," the human guessed. The equine sighed and turned to regard the Gryphon's Roost, as if judging its ability to withstand another attack.

"Finding out that they are more sentient than we thought at first is a bit of an eyeopener," he eventually admitted "but I doubt I'll ever do anything else. I've been hunting dragons since I was strong enough to wield a broadsword, like my father before me and his father before him. And there will always be trouble with dragons. So I guess we'll just have to be careful about whom we hunt from now on."

"That is all I can ask for," Merec replied, strangely with a smile of his own. Without looking back at the river, he started to leave, but then a thought occurred to him. Weren't there two dragons killed this night? He turned back to the equine. "Where is the other one you killed?"

"It wasn't us who killed the blue one," the dragonslayer replied, a little hesitantly. "It was that dragon of yours. Ripped open the blue's fire-oil duct and burned him to a crisp with his own fire. I... I've never seen the like."

There was another sudden laugh that reverberated through the town again. But this time, it was the deep rumble of a dragon laughing in the distance. Merec recognized it immediately as Gahntuar and even though the human knew the dragon was safe here, it was still a relief to hear him.

"That shook him though," the equine continued, seemingly oblivious to the laughing dragon. "I've seen my fair share of fights and I know when someone has made his first kill. I'd talk to him if I were you. I'd do so myself, but I don't think that conversation would really have the desired effect."

"I plan to, thanks!" Merec replied. The dragonslayer held out a large hand and the human shook it before the two of them parted ways.

Merec hurried off, following the sound of the dragon across the Market Square. It has been turned into something of a temporary command center, and he gave a quick, respectful nod to his swordsmanship tutor as he passed him. But the retired Captain of the Royal Guard was too busy speaking with the sheriff, the mayor, and a gryphon hen he had not seen before.

He decided to continue on his way, lest he interfere with the planning of those in command of the town's defense. He walked on, quickly passing in between wounded people that had to be treated out on the Square as there wasn't enough space in the Trapper's Rest to fit them. There were a lot of superficial wounds, and the people would be ready to fight again shortly. He should know; the cut to his brow was only cleaned and quickly patched up so that he wouldn't bleed into his eyes before he had to make way for the next one with a cut to the hand. But closer to the Trapper's Rest, the worse the wounds became. Some lay there with missing limbs, broken bones or deep wounds. Their participation in the war was over, but it could have been worse.

Inside the building itself were the ones that would most likely not make it through the night. The rumour was that the cooler cellar of the Rest had been cleared out and is being used as a mortuary. With a shudder, Merec turned his mind away from the morbid thoughts. However, Gahntuar's laugh had come from closer to the Rest, and the implication made his chest squirm with worry.

A sudden movement among the seriously wounded men made him jump and instinctively grab at his sword, but it was only Adulf who was tiredly getting to his feet. Even though Merec knew that the Green Magus' abilities with healing magic were only used to save the lives of those he could, the lupine seemed to have had a rough night.

"How are you doing?" Merec asked. The wolf shook with fright and whirled about as if expecting an attack, but relaxed when he noticed it was only Merec.

"Lo-ong night," he grumbled, drawing his reply out as he stifled a yawn. "Being the only Green Magus in a battle is not fun. Think I caught a slight Manaburn as well..." He suddenly looked at Merec questioningly. "Felicity explained to you what a Manaburn is, right?"

"She did," he confirmed and the wolf couldn't help but sigh with relief. "You should get some rest."

"As should you!" Adulf countered. "You look like you've been to Juinkarr and back."

"I've only been firing arrows over the wall," Merec complained.

"Still, we should all be resting," Adulf replied tiredly. "I doubt this lull in the fighting will last very long, and we have to get as much rest as possible."

Merec nodded in agreement, before eying a crude talisman the wolf was caressing absent-mindedly.

"How are the Mana receptacles holding out?" he asked.

"I won't lie to you; our Mana supply is running dangerously low already," Adulf admitted with a frustrated growl, pointedly stashing what looked like a canine tooth into a pocket. "That wand you gave me was a great help, but I'm afraid that one more attack like that and the role of the Magi in this fight will effectively be over. The fact that there are no Manawells on the peninsula is really taxing on all the magic users. Felicity is raiding the dead goblins in search of cuplaethers for me as we speak, but I don't know how helpful that will be. And the two Red Magi are also on the hunt for them, but it doesn't look like they would be sharing."

"From what I've heard, they were quite flashy with their magic," Merec sighed. "If they stop suddenly, it will let the orcs know that our Mana supply is running low and it might encourage them to attack with even more vigour."

Adulf regarded the human for a time, before glancing back at the group of wounded soldiers he was busy tending to.

"I guess you have a point," he grumbled, not very happy to agree with anything the Reds were doing.

"I'll be on the lookout for some of those receptacles for you," Merec promised with a smile when a thought occurred to him. "What about the phoenixes? Aren't they supposed to be gifted with healing as well as fire?"

"The phoenixes can help, but they will usually only get involved in the healing after the threat has passed," Adulf grumbled with a shake of his head. "And without your ring, you won't be able to recognize any Cuplaethers. Rather focus on getting some sleep, you hear me?"

"Okay, okay!" Merec chuckled, holding his hands up defensively. "Right after I check up on Gahntuar." Then he became as serious as the wolf he was talking to. "But you should do the same."

"Will do just that," Adulf smirked "right after I take care of this group. I just need a few hours anyway to be right as rain again."

They parted ways also with a quick handshake and Merec continued on, following another bout of laughter from Gahntuar. He rounded the corner of the Trapper's Rest, and was surprised to see Gahntuar and Iago sitting together like they had been old friends who hadn't seen each other in a while.

"... to try and hide his share of the spoils, Merec dropped the apricots into the front of his breeches!" Iago related a story the human had hoped was already forgotten. Gahntuar on the other hand, burst out in another bout of laughter, cupping his one paw around his muzzle as if trying to stifle it.

"I guess he thought I'd never look there," Iago smirked "despite the fact that his trousers stood like he was hung like a horse who had smelled a mare in heat. Of course, we gryphons are not bothered by things like that."

"Did... did he actually plan to eat them after all that?" Gahntuar asked through a fit of giggles.

"I... never thought about it," the gryphon mused, "but I guess we'll never know. Anyway, I made sure to get the boys to return the stolen fruit, though I did tell old Gerald to wash them before doing anything with it."

"You two seem to have grown close," Merec commented, making both creatures jump with fright.

"Merec!" Gahntuar exclaimed, looking like a child caught doing something he shouldn't. "I was looking for you. I was! Then Iago here wanted to apologize to me for being so rude and we kinda started talking and..."

"Don't worry about it," Merec sighed, dismissing the dragon's concern with a wave of his hand. "I'm just glad to see your okay."

"Um, hi Merec;" Iago started unsurely. "I wanted to apologize to you as well..."

"You don't have to apologize," Merec grumbled tiredly as he collapsed against Gahntuar's shoulder. If it wasn't people wanting to hear how he met the dragon, it was people who wanted to apologize for how they had been treating him in the past few years. Honestly, he was getting tired of it.

"But I do!" Iago insisted, watching with surprised fascination how the dragon nudged the human into a more comfortable position before he folded a wing over him so that just his head showed. "I am truly sorry for how I treated you this past two years."

"You were just trying to keep the town safe," Merec muttered, too tired to argue and hoping to get some sleep in.

"If that was the case, I would have tried to get to the bottom of it, and not just pushed you away like I did," the gryphon said with an annoyed clack of his beak. "I remember you were always a trustworthy boy, even though you liked to cause trouble from time to time."

"It's okay," Merec insisted. "At least we can get along now, hopefully."

"Are you okay?" Gahntuar asked worriedly, nuzzling the human reassuringly.

"Just tired," Merec insisted, but then that playfulness of his struck again. "I had a rough night, didn't you notice?" he added with a tired smirk.

"That's more like it!" Gahntuar grinned.

"Don't encourage him!" Iago warned the dragon with mock indignation. The little teasing helped to alleviate the tension they felt and Merec found himself relaxing substantially.

"Did you and Lainah get something to eat?" he asked the dragon.

"No," Gahntuar replied "but we can go longer without food than you can. The well is a bit busy, but I managed to get a few gulps of water. What about you."

"I did as well," Merec replied, leaning back against his dragon with a sigh. "And I managed to get a chunk of bread before I came here as well before you ask."

"You seem particularly tired," Iago observed as he scrutinized the human. "Had some rough fighting on your side?"

"I wouldn't put it like that," Merec replied a bit bitterly. "Truthfully, I was busy all the time, but it feels like I didn't contribute much. Unlike those on the wall, or even Gahntuar here."

"Don't be ridiculous," Iago chided him. "You and the other archers helped a great deal to keep the wall from being overrun. And more importantly, you guys kept them out of range so that they couldn't get any fire arrows into town. We'd be in big trouble if they could set the town on fire."

"Maybe," Merec agreed as he pondered the gryphon's words "but it still bothers me not knowing how effective I was, and if I could have done anything better."

"You fuss too much!" Gahntuar growled, nipping at his human. "We're still here, aren't we? Now relax and try to get some rest!"

"Yes, sir!" Merec chuckled, closing his eyes for a bit. There was silence for a minute or so before the human remembered something.

"Oh, yes. I wanted to ask you how you were doing?" he asked Gahntuar.

"A few scrapes and bruises," the dragon growled a little irritated. "Nothing too serious. Iago is the one who almost had his chest flattened."

"I mean... about the other dragon..." Merec clarified a little hesitantly. "I heard you killed one in town."

Gahntuar's mood dropped noticeably.

"I did what I had to do," he growled, though it was difficult to tell if he was trying to convince the human or himself.

"I'm not judging!" Merec quickly interjected. "You cannot be blamed for anything someone else does, and we didn't force them into this. In fact, if you hadn't acted, many would have been killed."

"I agree!" Iago added with a meaningful clack of his beak.

"I know," Gahntuar nuzzled Merec affectionately. "It's just, maybe there was something I could have done differently?"

"I doubt it," Merec replied. "The other dragon could have left at any moment."

"I guess so," Gahntuar replied, laying his head down to rest as well.

Merec wanted to add something more but then thought better of it. They were all tired, and pushing the issue now might do more harm.

"Just remember that I'm here when you want to talk about it," he said, leaning back again.

"I will, thanks," Gahntuar replied softly.

***

It seemed to Merec like he had barely fallen asleep when he was woken up by a very anxious Felicity. Yet, as the human blinked up at the vixen that had been trying to get him to go to the Amber Tower for over a year now, he could notice the silvery light of pre-dawn towards the east.

"I need to talk to you and Gahntuar," Felicity stated sternly, making it clear that she was not going to be persuaded to leave it to later again.

"Can it wait a little longer?" Merec complained, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm afraid I don't think so," the vixen grumbled. "I would have done so last night, but this oaf of a dragon would have none of it."

"Thanks, Gahntuar!" the human smiled up at Gahntuar, earning a delighted purr from his dragon and a scowl from the vixen in reply. He gave the scaled jaw a quick rub before sitting up straight to address the vixen again. "So, what is it then?"

"When the attack was called back last night," Felicity said, still a little upset "one of the goblins tried to intimidate me. Instead, it gave up some valuable information. I know why Seghrien is attacking the whole town like this."

"We know why!" Gahntuar grumbled. "It is to get to me. He wants his vengeance..."

"It's bigger than that!" Felicity interrupted him sternly. "He is here to harvest your heart. And he wants yours as well, Merec."

"What would he want with that?" Iago suddenly piped up, making the vixen jump with fright. She glared at the hybrid, obviously thinking of telling him to mind his own business, but then she only sighed.

"What do you know about the Juinkarr hallows?" she asked instead.

"The... what?" Merec asked. A quick glance at the other two confirmed that they did not know what she was talking about either. Not that it was really a surprise to her. Knowledge of Juinkarr, in general, was usually sparse outside the Circle of Five.

"What about the sword 'Helegnel'?" she asked instead, opting for something that was known a lot better. But still, she only received a set of blank expressions at the name.

"It was also known as the 'Icefang blade...?" she hazarded. That name, on the other hand, got quite a reaction.

"Icefang was captured by some tiger chief from an orc about three years or so into The Shattering," Merec replied when he recovered a bit. "He wielded it himself for a time until he was killed leading an invasion of the Curndor Mountains in the hopes of ending the Dark Age. The story goes that he jumped into a deep, fast flowing river at the bottom of a steep ravine when he was mortally wounded during an ambush, taking the blade with him. He did this so as to make sure that the blade didn't return to orc hands. The sword has been lost ever since." Merec paused for a bit before asking what the other two were obviously wondering as well. "But I understood that it was only a very powerfully enchanted blade that caused lethal frostbite wherever it cut. How does it affect us? I'm sure it is not present here."

"The blade itself doesn't threaten us now," Felicity agreed sombrely. "But there is more to that blade than its military prowess. It is part of a collection of artifacts that is called the Juinkarr Hallows. These hallows can be used to break open any Aether Fountain, in order to create an unobstructed gateway between Barathrum and our world. That was what happened at the start of The Shattering at Juinkarr."

"I'm with Merec here," Gahntuar added a little unsure. "How does that affect us today?"

"If you need the Icefang sword to open a gateway to Barathrum, and that sword is lost, isn't that a good thing?" Iago added.

"The truth is that we know very little about Juinkarr or any of the relics and hallows that were created there," Felicity grumbled, annoyed with the interruption from the two tetrapods. "We don't even know how many of these objects were created. Other than Helegnel, the Ivory Tower holds three more confirmed Hallows: Some kind of rod that binds you to your word, and two goblets that enhance either the user's vanity or sexual prowess. But it is rumoured that when the steel for the Hallows was smelted, the heart of a dragon and the heart of a human together were used to hook the Manashapes into the steel itself, in addition to the normal organic focus points."

"So, you're saying that Seghrien wants to harvest our hearts to open up another gateway like the one you mentioned?" Merec asked worriedly, feeling suddenly cold.

"The red drake will not be able to achieve such a feat, even with his strange ability with magic," she stated with a shake of her head. "But yes, someone is trying to reopen the way to Barathrum. And they need to kill the two of you to achieve this."

"So, you are saying that my family was wiped out because of this?" Gahntuar growled angrily. "To get this gateway open again?"

"Most likely..." the magus agreed.

"But why us?" Merec questioned. "Why not any random human and dragon?"

"Maybe it just happens to be you, maybe it is because the two of you... er... care so much for each other?" Felicity guessed. At the last suggestion, the human and dragon shared a meaningful glance, while the gryphon was left completely confused by the statement.

"As I said," the vixen continued "no one really knows the details of the Juinkarr Hallows anymore, at least no one I know of. But the fact remains that Seghrien is here for your hearts, and should he get them, we will be facing the start of a new Dark Age."

"Well," Iago declared determinedly. "We won't allow that to happen!"

"It is only a matter of time before they break through our defences," Felicity rounded angrily on the gryphon, before turning her attention back to the human. "Listen to me, I know you were against the idea of going to the Circle of Five, but please you must go now! You can get out of here while they are regrouping..."

"We tried that and ended up at another place we tried to avoid!" Gahntuar growled.

"But this time it is only Seghrien," the magus insisted, irritated with the hard-headedness of the two in front of her. "The other two dragons are dead, so you can be gone before he knows it."

"Lainah ensured me that there were at least five dragons!" Gahntuar replied upset. "And I trust her."

"But I only ever saw three..." Felicity started to argue but was cut off by a deep, angry growl from the dragon.

"And I'm not going to abandon the town just like that!" Merec added.

"Merec..." Felicity growled angrily as if trying to compete with the dragon. But Merec interrupted her before she could even voice an objection.

"I'm not going to argue about this," he stated firmly. "The town could have thrown Gahntuar and me to Seghrien when this all started, but when push came to shove, we defend each other. That is just how we are."

"How long do you think it will be before this town falls?" Felicity snapped angrily. "Two, three days? You can help them better by getting out of here!"

"We only have to hold out until tomorrow morning," Iago interjected. "Haven't you heard? My aery to the west of town has called a War Council last night. They will be arriving tomorrow shortly after dawn with several thousand gryphons. Against that, this army that is laying siege to the town will not stand a chance."

Felicity regarded the gryphon with a stern gaze, before turning her attention back to the stubborn pair. These two were going to have her fur turn gray before long!

"Fine," she grumbled, turning away from them to let them be. "I hope you are right."

As she stalked away, she continued to grumble to herself. "If I had known what was coming, I would not have asked those other Yellows to leave. We could really use their help right about now."

***

Seghrien prowled through the trees west of the irritating little town, keeping the town wall in sight, but making sure that he stayed out of clear view of the defenders on the walls. It was already well after sunrise, much later in the morning than he would have liked. But he wanted to have a good look at the town's defences, and for that he needed the sun to be well above the horizon; to give ample light but not to blind him as it rose from behind the town.

The humans seem tired, even from this distance. But they were holding their positions admirably well. The dragon had never thought that the guardsmen from such a small town could be so well trained. Or so willing to risk everything for one of their own. Which is probably why great Gullivarth himself hadn't been able to secure the peninsula during the Age of Legends.

"Remind me, how do we stand?" he growled, his voice betraying the irritation he felt.

"We've sent in Squadrons One to Six last night," Chief Urguss replied swiftly, but also tired and irritated. "Twelve hundred in total, of which we lost just over three hundred and seventy. We still have nineteen squadrons fresh and ready to fight."

Seghrien regarded a section of the orcs army, that had made camp wherever they could, even in full view of the town. The only thing they made sure of was to keep well out of reach of the longbows that had been so effective in the fighting of the night before.

He had not considered it, but it was a good idea. Their presence alone was putting pressure on the inhabitants of the town, reminding them of the ever-present threat of the next attack. But still, the town refused to give up the Shameblood and his human.

A growl of irritation slipped from him at the thought. He really believed a show of force would have made the humans give up his prey, and the Master had agreed with him. But instead, it seemed to have had the opposite effect. And then his brilliant backup plan had failed as well. The town had managed to fend off his true attack across the seemingly uncrossable river, leaving two of his dragons dead.

"Coming round the back didn't do us much good," he growled as he turned his attention away from town towards the west. He was talking more to himself than actually addressing the orc chief next to him.

The worst setback was that they had somehow gotten word through to the gryphons of the western ridge that they were under attack. During a siege, time was usually on the side of the attackers. But now the winds had shifted and time was solidly against him. He wouldn't be surprised if an entire army of gryphons, some maybe even carrying human knights as he had heard they sometimes do, arrived the next day. Or the day thereafter at the very least.

No, he had one more strike at his prey left. Then it might be best to retreat back into the mountains and reassess his options. However, he didn't really want to do that. The Master was already growing impatient with his lack of progress and the orc chief next to him will not remain subservient to him for another month or two.

"And we are running out of time!" he continued his monolog. He needed a way in, or he needed a way for the Shameblood to leave the safety of the town.

The red drake suddenly paused to look at the Broken Gate. All kinds of wooden structures had been assembled there in a mad tangle and fastened securely with bands of leather to block any entry through the gateway in the absence of a proper gate. He remembered that during the first attack, a Red Magus or two had defended it with all they had. Even if there had been more than one, they had to have been very powerful, given the control and strength of the Elemental Magic he had seen on display.

But surely, even they would be having trouble keeping their performance consistent. He could guess that their Mana supply was starting to run low, and given enough pressure those magi must surely start to suffer from Manaburns soon.

"So we will have to go through the front gate!" he suddenly declared. "We'll attack the town again like we did last night, stretching their defences along the whole of the wall. But send the third squadron to focus solely on that barricade in the gate there. And keep the attack going this time, we don't want to allow the defenders any reprieve.

"And keep the goblins back ..." he added almost as an afterthought, though this was where the crux of his plan lay. "It wouldn't do to sent cuplaethers into a town that is in desperate need of it by now."

Seghrien couldn't help but smirk at the idea. He would force those magi to run themselves dry, or push them until they dropped from exhaustion. It was good to have a plan again. Time was against them and action was needed!

"Will your dragons be assisting with the attack on the plugged gate?" the orc chief asked, but it was clear in the tone of his voice that he already suspected what the answer was going to be. "Their fire will help greatly with that wooden barricade."

"Not as long as those Red Magi are stationed there," the dragon growled with a shake of his head. "And with the dragon-slaying band set up close by, we will only be cornered prey. So until they are removed in some way, we will not be of any use." Seghrien growled irritated. "No, we will have to wait for the two traitors in town to make a move before we can react."

"Understood, my lord," the orc chief grumbled, obviously not happy with the decision but not able to argue the matter. With a curt bow, he left to carry out the new order. Seghrien barely noticed his departure, his attention focused solely on the weak point in the wall. He wasn't sure what to do if they failed to break through this time, but at least he still had nineteen squadrons of fresh troops on standby.

Against such unrelenting pressure, the town simply had to buckle.

With an angry snarl, he also turned to leave, returning back to where they had set up their headquarters.

***

It had been quiet enough throughout the morning for Merec to have fallen asleep once more, as he leaned comfortably against Gahntuar's side. All across the town, people still tried to get a wink of sleep in before the inevitable attack resumed.

Gahntuar on the other wing couldn't sleep. He did not need to, but still, he was thinking too much about what Felicity had said. It made him worry about his human and to an extent about himself. If they were to survive things here, when would the next attack happen? Who would it be that will come after them next? It wasn't a comforting thought, to know that they would be hunted down for ingredients in some dark ritual, no matter what they did or where they fled. It made him squirm just thinking about it.

A sudden tolling of a warning bell near the southern gate luckily interrupted his thoughts.

"What?" Merec asked blearily after waking with a snort. All over town, other people were also getting up groggy and looking about disoriented. A few, better-trained guards were quicker to respond and they were already trying to get those who were still confused up and ready.

"I think Seghrien is attacking again," the dragon grumbled, patiently waiting for the human next to him to get up before he moved.

Merec got up with an uncomfortable grunt and glanced about him still a little dazed as he tried to find his bow. With Merec no longer leaning against him, Gahntuar also got up and snorted in surprise that he was also stiff from the short rest.

"Good luck," Merec wished him well once he located his weapons. "Stay safe."

"You as well!" Gahntuar agreed and the two hurried off to take up their respective positions.

***

Sir Harald surveyed the battle in a moment of calm he managed to get. The fighting was much like the night before: The orcs were using ladders to try and get onto the wall and defenders did everything in their power in fighting them off. The blacksmiths had managed to build up the supply of arrows, but the archers were quickly shooting them off over the wall. Still, even though he had to commit several of the archers to fight in close combat on the wall, those who remained still managed to keep the horde just at bay.

However, it was obvious even to an untrained eye that, unlike the previous night, this renewed attack was now more clearly focused on the obvious weak point of the town's defences. The rest of the wall received just enough attention to force him to spread out the defenders, but the real weight of the attack fell on the thrice-damned Broken Gate. Several times now, the barrier they've set up there was set alight, but luckily the flames were quickly put out before any real damage could occur.

Sir Harald smirked suddenly at the thought. Indeed, the failed arson seemed to be working a little in their favour, as the charred wood was more difficult to get burning again. But too much of it, and the integrity of the entire barricade might be compromised.

The magi was especially effective at defending the Broken Gate, or at least they were. Their abilities had been slowly dwindling and were by now pretty much gone. He'd been told that it was something about a resource that was running out. That and the male fox that had accompanied the lioness was suffering from some kind of burn. It may not be from a fire, but it neutralized him as effectively.

With the loss of the magi at the Broken Gate, he was forced to send out his two dragons in an attempt to relieve the pressure a little. The drake was eager to help in any way he could, but the draine had been reluctant to leave the Town Hall, where he knew the children were being hidden. In the end, they both agreed to take on the responsibility of filling in the gap the magi had left, each of course with the support of four gryphons at their flanks.

They had clear orders not to engage directly but to spread fire across the horde, not that the dragons were stupid enough to try and land amongst the orcs on their own. They still had, of course, been appalled at having to fight with an escort, but the old soldier had insisted. And lucky that he had, for as soon as they showed themselves, three of the enemy dragons rose up in the challenge. More gryphons had to join the fight to chase them off, or they would have forced Gahntuar to the ground amidst the attacking horde. Then, it would have been over for them.

The reprieve the two dragons managed to earn them had been welcome, but sadly that as well didn't last nearly long enough. After only about an hour or so of holding the worst of the horde at bay, the dragons had to return to the safety of town, their ventral sides bristling with crossbow bolts and their fire oil reserves running dangerously low.

Sir Harald growled at the thought: The supply of everything in town was dangerously low and at this rate, he was not sure if they would be able to hold out until sunset, let alone sunrise tomorrow.

"Welcome to the Rest!" a parrot suddenly called out cheerily from somewhere above the battle. The strange chirping call made several fighters, Sir Harald included, blink in surprise. He risked a look and saw that it was, in fact, Kael's parakeet that was just coming in to sit on a merlon. The bright bird sat a moment there, regarding the fighting around it. But then, an orc busy wrestling with a human defender bumped into the bird and with an indignant squawk, the parakeet decided that this was no place for him. Swearing 'Shut the fuck up and give me a drink!' at the unruly crowd, he flew off.

Despite the situation, Sir Harald couldn't help but smirk at the strange choice of words. With renewed determination, he charged at yet another orc who managed to get onto the wall.

***

"Ouch!"

"Oh, hush now!" Kael muttered, barely able to keep a chuckle from spoiling the reprimand. "It's not that bad!"

There was no chance of expecting the overweight innkeeper to be able to make a difference in the direct defence of the town. Even as a boy, the man had never been very athletic and usually only made a fool of himself when trying to participate in anything that required actual exercise.

So now when the town came under attack, everyone knew that there was nothing he could do to contribute. However, he was a brilliant organizer and when he had offered his inn as a field hospital, the people in charge was extremely grateful for his expertise. He may not be talented in healing, but there was much that he could do to help those who could.

So instead of throwing his life away on the wall, he was actually making a real difference helping to patch up those who could still fight or helping to save the lives of those who couldn't anymore. And even though he had to see many not make it, he found the overall experience of helping here very rewarding, even if at times it landed him in rather strange and unforeseen situations ... For instance, even just a day ago, he would never have believed that he would be busy pulling crossbow bolts from a dragon's...

"Aaah!" Gahntuar yelped again, fighting the urge to nip at the man currently busy removing bolts from his stomach like he so often did with Merec. "It hurts!"

"I would never have thought that such a big strong drake as yourself could complain so much about small bolts," the barkeep's wife muttered teasingly, earning a soft giggle from the draine she was busy tending to.

"I know they are small," the drake growled, glaring at the women with narrowed eyes. "But that doesn't mean that they don't hurt when someone pulls on them!"

Lainah's giggling seemed to increase in volume, and Gahntuar turned his indignant growls at her. She only smirked back at him, but her composure was also broken by a sudden yelp as a bolt was pulled from her as well. Gahntuar's growling turned into a smug grin of his own.

"Serves you righ-ouch!" This time Gahntuar failed to hold himself back and he did nip at the man, only to receive a well-aimed slap to the snout in return. The dragon stared in utter shock at the portly man, his frill raised indignantly, much too surprised to react.

"Thank you," Lainah suddenly said to the woman with her, given her a quick affectionate nuzzle to emphasize her gratitude. "But if you'll excuse me, I need to return to the whelps... er the chil-dren."

"Can't you just leave them where they are, for now?" Gahntuar asked hopefully as he stared irritated after the draine as she quickly made her escape. "They are hardly life threatening and I'm sure there are others that need your ... healing hands much more urgently than I do."

It was not a lie. Though it hurt, most of the bolts that had been fired at him failed to puncture through the tough keratin of his scales, and those that did manage were unable to penetrate deep enough to be serious.

"There are nurses more skilled than I who are taking care of them;" Kael dismissed the dragon's suggestion. "As for you, we need you at your best if one of those other dragons get into town again. Don't worry though, I'm almost done anyway." Gahntuar yelped as another bolt was removed, and the human added more to himself than actually addressing the dragon, though it was still loud enough for him to hear: "I would have been done by now if you didn't fuss so much!"

Gahntuar grumbled like a naughty hatchling told to go to sleep when he didn't want to and flinched as the last two bolts were removed. At least he kept his mouth shut this time.

"There, all done!" Kael announced, much to the dragon's relief.

"Thank you, I guess," Gahntuar grumbled, giving his chest and stomach a quick look over to ensure that all of the irritating shafts was gone.

"It is better to have them removed quickly, trust me." Iago suddenly spoke up from nearby.

"Were you watching the whole time?" Gahntuar asked shocked. But to his relief, the gryphon shook his head.

"Actually came to see what the fuss was about," he replied with a smile he tried to hide. "As painful as it was now, it is worse if they are left to fester. I got a couple in the haunch once when dealing with a band of bandits, and made the mistake of leaving them in until we could get back to town. Not a fun experience, I tell you!"

"Sure," Gahntuar sulked, turning to the innkeepe r again. "Can I go now?"

"Sure," Kael replied, not even attempting to hide his smirk. That was until they were interrupted by a very upset squawk.

"Shut the fuck up and give me a drink!" someone shouted frantically. "Shut the fuck up and give me a drink!"

Gahntuar blinked in surprise at the foul language and looked up at the voice. To his surprise, he saw a bright green and yellow bird, only about the size of a Wood warbler, flying overhead, weaving this way and that in its frantic flight. He squinted at it, trying to remember if he had ever heard of any of the sentient ferals that looked even remotely like it.

"Jihni!" the innkeeper suddenly hollered. The strange bird did not hesitate, but dived immediately down towards Kael, nearly crashing into the man's shoulder in an attempt to get to safety.

"How did you get out, you naughty bird?" Kael berated the bird, though his voice betrayed his concern rather than being upset with it. The bird sat as close to the man's head as it could, chirping and tweeting softly as it sought comfort. Kael patted the frightened bird softly in an attempt to calm it down, as he turned around to take the little creature back inside. Therefore, he completely missed Gahntuar's bug-eyed expression as the dragon stared at them.

"What's the matter?" Iago asked, the smirk thick in his voice. "Never saw a parakeet before?"

"I've never heard of a sentient bird like that ... what?" The dragon stared indignantly at the gryphon when the hybrid started to laugh.

"The bird is not sentient!" Iago laughed, but then started to cough as his broken ribs complained. "Damn it lizard! I told you not to make me laugh!"

"But it spoke ..." Gahntuar defended his statement, still staring after the human as he disappeared into the building.

"It mimed ..." Iago elaborated with a wheeze. "There is a difference. The bird is just repeating sounds it heard before, but it has no understanding of what it actually means."

"It is a pet?" the dragon gasped shocked, turning his attention to the gryphon.

"Yes!" Iago stated, but when he saw that the dragon was still confused he gave an exasperated sigh. "What is wrong this time?"

"But it rides on the human's shoulder ..." Gahntuar replied, looking back at the door as if expecting to see the man reappear with the bird still perched on his shoulder.

"And ... that is a problem why?" Iago questioned, tilting his head.

"Don't humans ride horses because they are dominant over the horse?" Gahntuar asked, his tone making it obvious that he was completely serious.

"What? No!" Iago squawked in surprise. "Well, yes, humans are dominant over horses, but they don't ride them to prove it. Look, humans are also dominant over sheep as well and have you ever heard of them riding those?"

Gahntuar opened his maw to start arguing, but then he stopped. The gryphon had a point there.

"Humans ride horses because it serves a purpose," Iago continued. "It is the same when they ride us gryphons; only, unlike with horses, it is mutually beneficial for us. They don't dominate us in that regard."

Iago suddenly smirked.

"Or do you expect the human to be riding the parakeet?" he asked with a grin. Gahntuar nipped at the gryphon indignantly, making the hybrid only chuckle at him.

"That is ridiculous!" the dragon replied with a snort. He considered the thought for a moment before asking: "So, how do you know if it is a dominance thing?"

"It is all about how the two of you perceive each other!" the gryphon elaborated, a little more serious now. "Riding on something doesn't mean dominance over it. Yes, a human riding a horse is a master-servant relationship, but a human riding a gryphon is a partnership. It is not the same."

"But you both wear saddles..." Gahntuar argued.

"Again, you understand it completely wrong." Iago sighed. "A saddle is just a means to an end. It makes carrying a rider easier for both human and steed, and it secures the rider so that he or she doesn't fall off. There is nothing dominating about it. "

Gahntuar flinched to himself when the gryphon mentioned falling off, remembering when Merec had fallen from his shoulders... was it only yesterday?

"So you are saying that if I had a saddle, Merec and I would have been able to escape?" he grumbled, not realizing he had spoken aloud.

"What do you mean?" Iago asked him, bringing the dragon's attention back to the present.

"I... I carried Merec yesterday," he admitted his crest flat against his head in humiliation at having to admit to it. "We were intending to leave the peninsula completely when this attack started. But I... I couldn't maneuver properly with him on my back, so we were herded back here. And when he... fell off, we crashed just outside town."

"Merec rode on your back?" Iago asked surprised. "And you still didn't understand the difference between riding and dominance?"

"I allowed Merec to ride on my shoulders sometimes," the dragon admitted "but only when there was no other way. And I've always been rather ashamed of myself for allowing it and hoped that no one would ever find out."

"And did Merec ever boss you around when he was on your back?" Iago questioned carefully.

"No ..."

"So there you go!" the gryphon smirked. "Proof that riding on one's shoulders is not a sign of mastery, it is the attitude between the rider and steed that is important. And the saddle is not an object of servitude, it is the bridle."

"The what?" Gahntuar blinked confused at the gryphon.

"The bridle..." Iago tried to clarify patiently. "You know, it is the tangle of straps that go around the horse's head. It is the thing that is used to give the horse commands."

"Right," the dragon agreed still a little unsure. He could vaguely remember something going around the heads of the horses he had seen, but he didn't really pay it much attention.

"Hey dragon!" a strange voice suddenly interrupted his musings. "Are you going to help us get rid of these orcs, or are you going to sit around for the rest of the day?"

Gahntuar looked up indignantly at the minotaur that had addressed him so casually, his crest raised in irritation. But he had to concede: The mercenary had a point.

"I guess I have to get going," he grumbled as he got up. "But you gave me something to think about; I'd like to talk to you about it later again if you wouldn't mind."

"See you later then," Iago smiled. "And good hunting!"

***

Seghrien growled, his irritation slowly increasing as he watched the battle by the wall. They seemed to be slowly gaining ground, but he wasn't sure if it was fast enough. Already his forces to the west had encountered advanced gryphon patrols that had started to harass them, and he doubted they had as much time as they needed.

He bowed down to lick at a fresh cut along his flank. The wound was superficial but it still stung something fierce. And it not only hurt his flesh but his pride as well. It reminded him that they had actually been successful in luring the Shameblood out of the town, but the abhorrent creature had somehow managed to get himself a following of gryphons, who managed to protect his flanks and keep Seghrien's dragons at bay. They may have lost a few gryphons in the process, but their attack on the horde near the barricaded gate had been a great success and the orcs were not as willing to fight there as they had been at the start of the day. And that will not do.

Their only option now was to get into the town.

"Rotate in fresh warriors..." the red drake ordered curtly. "I want to keep the pressure on the defenders at the maximum."

The orc chief suppressed a growl of irritation.

"As you say, my lord," he almost snarled before turning to his assistant. "Send in Squadrons Thirteen and Fourteen to the wall, and Fifteen to the southern gate..."

"Hold that order!" another voice squawked in protest. Both orcs and dragon blinked up at the overhead branches in confusion at where the croaking voice seemed to have come from.

"Who dares to interfere in the business of the Claw-of-the-Master?" Seghrien snarled angrily, looking this way and that for the intruder.

"I dare!" the strange voice declared self-assured. Seghrien twisted his head and noticed the raven in one of the trees above them. The blackbird was regarding them with a curious gaze, as if wondering which of them would taste the best when this was all said and done.

"I advise you to be on your way, bird!" Seghrien snarled angrily, stepping closer and instinctively raising his crest in a challenging display. "I haven't hunted since we crossed the mountains and you might just make a nice snack."

"Oh, feisty!" the raven replied almost hungrily. "But you should be careful of making threats, sexy one ... you might just have to act on them."

"Look here," the dragon snarled furiously, fire oil already starting to drip from his ducts and causing him to breathe out a plume of acrid smoke. "I am on an important mission for my Master and don't have time to waste on you."

"Feisty, and loyal!" the raven chirped excitedly. "Is that why old Quattuor likes you so much. Okay, the old grouch doesn't like anyone, but you know what I mean."

Several alarm bells suddenly started to ring in the dragon's mind at the familiar and yet uncaring, disrespectful way the bird talked about the great Master. It sent chills down his spine. Seghrien felt a little relieved when he noticed that he wasn't alone, as all those all present there took a worried step backward.

"Who... who are you, really?" Seghrien asked against his better judgment. He feared the answer, but he had to know.

"Oh, so the pet can think for himself," the raven chirped, almost sounding impressed. "Unlike his master at times. There just might be hope for you yet." The raven was silent for a second or so as if considering an important issue. "Yes, I should consider using you myself a bit."

Without further delay, the raven hopped from its perch and darted down towards its audience. Then suddenly, even as it flew down, a shadow seemed to pass over it. When the sudden darkness evaporated, it left behind something horrid and alluring at the same time. Standing amidst the group of Shadowspawn, was something vaguely human in shape, much like the great Master himself. But unlike the Master, this demoness was an unblemished pastel blue, with shiny black hair that reached a foot past her shoulders. Firm breasts and womanhood that seemed cleanly shaven advertised to all who dared to view her that she was female, and a set of small horns, petite wings, and an elegant tail served to accentuate her sensual slimness and desirable curvy body. Where the Master was strong but grotesque, she was horrible, yet enthrallingly beautiful.

"Mistress Senna!" Chief Urguss gasped a bit terrified as he dropped immediately to his knees. The small group of orcs with him followed their chief's example, making sure to avoid direct eye contact with her.

Seghrien on the other hand was too slow and he became caught in her gaze, like a moth to the flame of a candle. Then again, he was most likely already caught by her alluring presence even before she revealed herself.

"Mistress," he squeaked unsure of how to address her. He had only heard rumours of her existence when he had travelled the Shadowlands, and had truly thought that after the fall of Juinkarr, she had created a domain of her own somewhere, a safe haven for herself she never dared to leave.

"Forgive my... my rudeness," Seghrien continued to stutter, hoping to appease her anger at his behaviour towards her. "I did not know that... that it was you."

"Of course you could not have known, silly thing," Senna smirked. Much to the drake's confusion, she did not seem upset at all, rather happy that she could have fooled him. Indeed, her smile did not fade even as she walked up to the dragon and touched his snout with a pair of sensual hands.

Before he could catch himself, Seghrien leaned into her touch and was even horrified to suddenly found himself purring in delight. The demoness traced a soft finger along each of the scars across his eye and Seghrien found that for a change, the phantom pain was completely gone. What was more, the disability did not bother him anymore.

The only other being who had been able to do that was the young, blue-gray draine that had been following him around for a year now. One he cared for, and yet her name suddenly eluded him.

Then, somehow, a name managed to break through the fog in his mind. Ikessa. With a snort, he managed to pull away from the succubus's touch and to avert his eyes, much to the demoness's surprise.

"Yes, you are definitely wasted serving that hot-headed imbecile!" Senna observed with a hungry smile. She liked those who could resist her charms if even a little, though a flash in her eyes betrayed her irritation at having lost even a little control over his carnal desires. But at least he hadn't been able to escape her completely.

He gave a reluctant step away from her and was horrified to feel his erection slap excitedly against his belly. What was wrong with him? He wasn't as weak-willed as the Shameblood to even consider sating his desires on a two-legger. So why was he having difficulty focusing on anything other than her moist folds?

"Thank you, mistress," he whimpered, hoping against hope that she somehow had not noticed his excitement, yet still unable to resist stealing another tentative glance at her alluring body. Even worse, he also seemed unable to show her the proper respect by crouching down before her like he was expected to when in the presence of his Master.

"I ... I have an important mission to accomplish, M-mistress," he stuttered. "I... I must..."

"I've heard about your mission," the succubus replied with a disappointed sigh. "And I have to say that it is quite a mess I found here."

The condescension in her voice seemed to break Seghrien's heart.

"I ... we ran into trouble," he snapped quickly, desperate to save some face in her opinion of the matter. "But we ... we can make it right. As you can see, we are about to break through ..."

"I've watched the battle for the past hour," Senna admitted, still sounding disappointed "and it doesn't look like the defences of the town is about to fail anywhere anytime soon."

The shadow that had shifted her from raven to demon seemed to pass over her again, and suddenly the silvery draine Seghrien had been fantasizing about stood there, smirking confidently at the drake. His penis gave another excited jerk and he almost came right there. The female of his dreams had finally abandoned the Shameblood and had come to him! And what's more, she seemed to be in heat! He could take her now, it didn't matter that he still had a war to fight, still had orcs surrounding him. He only hoped that they wouldn't be interrupted by Ikessa agai...

At the memory of her name, Seghrien's mind cleared again and he realized that the draine standing in front of him was still Mistress Senna. She must have peered into his mind and, seeking out what he desired, shifted herself to resemble the silvery draine he so desperately wanted to breed.

However, though he had the clarity of mind to recognize her, his desire for the succubus did not waver.

"I'll... I'll assist in the attack!" he quickly stated before he could catch himself.

"Eager to prove yourself, I see," the draconic Senna purred with delight. "I like that! I've not had a dragon yet!" She stepped close to him and nuzzled beneath his jaw in a very draconic way, even going so far as to nip playfully at his neck.

Seghrien rumbled delighted at that, vaguely aware that he was returning the affectionate playing.

"But my dear, that will only get you killed!" Senna added with a voice that sounded sad as if the idea alone terrified her. "And by the way, you don't have the time. You and the other two dragons have to take a squadron west to deal with the gryphon advance scout harassing your forces there, or those featherheads will realize your army is not as large as they had thought. If that happens, they will send their relief force earlier than expected."

"Of ... of course, Mistress!" Seghrien agreed, absent-mindedly dipping his snout lower to sniff interestedly at her rump. "But... what about the town? We know that the main gryphon force can arrive anytime from tomorrow, so we must get inside by nightfall!"

As his snout lowered, Senna twisted around to present herself to him, purposefully dragging her tail lazily across the red drake's chest.

"Leave that to me," Senna growled, her voice heavy with the lust she was infamous for. "Your forces will be inside the town by the time you get back, which should be shortly after sunset tonight."

"As ... as you ... command," Seghrien replied, his thoughts as thick as molasses as his snout slipped beneath her tail. He was vaguely aware of himself groping her haunch with one forepaw as he sniffed at her with abandon.

"Very eager ..." she purred when she felt his tongue press up hard against her folds.

Seghrien had barely savoured her taste before he lost control. With a quick jerk of his chest, he mounted her in one fluid motion, eagerly stabbing forward in search of her pussy. The orcs that were still crouching around the two dragons were beneath his concern. All that mattered was putting a strong, healthy clutch of eggs in the draine beneath him. His dick suddenly found her opening and with a hard shove, he sank half of his length into the hot flesh. He growled possessively as she gasped and flexed around him, and eager to please he pulled back for another thrust.

Only, as he did so, she somehow managed to disengage from him, wriggling out from beneath his chest and stepping completely out of reach.

"But not today, I'm afraid," she whined, herself genuinely upset at having to drop him like this. With a shift of shadows, she returned to her true self. "Quattuor will not be pleased if I stole you from him before I fulfilled my part of our bargain."

Seghrien whined needily, but Senna soothed him with a touch to the snout.

"Don't worry, you will have what you desire," she promised him with a husky voice. "But first, there is work that needs to be done."

"Yes... Yes, Mistress Senna!" Seghrien managed to mutter as his mind seemed to clear up again. Then, with sudden determination, he turned around and roared out. "Ikessa, Heinor. With me!"

The summoned dragons appeared, the drake looking a bit disheveled and the draine rather upset. Still, they both refused to meet the red drake's gaze as if something had nearly happened he wouldn't have approved of. Seghrien didn't notice their bedraggled mannerisms, instead, he was eager to get going as Mistress Senna had commanded.

"Our forces to the west needs some support," he stated authoritatively, looking determinedly in the direction from where the gryphons were harassing his forces.

"Seghrien, we ... we need to talk!" Ikessa replied, hesitant and unsure as for if worried about giving the red drake some bad news. But he dismissed her with a wave of a wing.

"Later," he stated stubbornly. "If the gryphons break through, they might relieve the town today still!"

And with that, he leaped into the sky. The last two dragons glanced unsurely at each other, before they followed him as well, disappearing beyond the canopy of leaves. Senna only smirked as she watched them go.

"Chief Urguss?" she suddenly commanded, dropping the teasing tone she had addressed Seghrien with.

"Lady Senna?" the orc chief acknowledged her summons, though a little hesitantly. He was still bowing, careful not to make eye contact. But he needed not to worry about her intentions. She was suddenly very business-like and rather disinterested with him, eager to get this disruptive siege business behind her. Despite the fact that he had an uncomfortable erection in his breeches, she was not going to try and seduce him.

"As discussed with the Claw-of-the-Master, call your people back," she commanded in a tone that clearly indicated that she expected to be obeyed immediately and without question. "Also, prepare a party of your best warriors to breach the northern gate as soon as it is opened for you." She was silent for a moment as if considering something. "And have the three squadrons you planned to send in now ready on standby to assault the town on all sides one last time."

"As you wish, my lady!" the orc replied quickly, but the succubus had already returned to her raven shape and was already flying off. Carefully, he watched her go, suddenly not sure if he should be upset that she didn't seduce him like she had the dragon, or relieved. With a growl, he decided that it was of no consequence to think about it. He had work to do.

***

"Gahntuar!" Merec called to the dragon as he caught sight of him from across the Market Square. The dragon had returned to sit down beside the Trapper's Rest and was again talking to Iago. "Merciful Nixoruma, am I glad to see you're okay!"

"I'm fine," Gahntuar huffed, looking up at the human with a frown. "What's gotten into you?"

"I heard that Sir Harald had sent you and Lainah out to clear some space beyond the Broken Gate," Merec elaborated. "Then, only that some of the gryphons that accompanied you never returned... I was afraid Seghrien had caught you..."

Gahntuar could only smirk as he nuzzled Merec affectionately.

"I'm quite all right, as is Lainah," he said softly. "You worry too much."

"He did come in looking like he tried to mount a porcupine!" Iago smirked, grinning at the dragon.

"What?" Merec asked with a frown.

"His chest was bristling with crossbow bolts," the gryphon elaborated, obviously trying to hold back a laugh. "You should have heard him complain about them while they were being removed."

"Of course, none of them was really serious!" Gahntuar defended his pride. "Most of them were deflected by my scales and those that managed to get through couldn't penetrate deeply. I'm quite difficult to harm."

"I know, but still," Merec started to say, but the dragon cut him off with a growl.

"I'm fine!" he snapped a little more curtly than he intended. "How about you?"

He eyed a fresh cut across the human's arm meaningfully.

"This is just a scratch," Merec dismissed the dragon's worry. "More invaders managed to get in than they did last night, so there was some hard fighting in the town. But like you said, it is nothing serious."

"Still, you need to have it taken care of!" Gahntuar insisted. "I'll go get someone for you." Without even waiting for a reply, the dragon got up to track down the first healer he could find.

"It is kinda cute how that big creature can act like a mother hen when he wants to," Iago commented when the dragon left. Then, with an awkward cough, he quickly asked to change the subject: "So, any idea why they pulled back this time?"

"No," Merec admitted with a shake of his head as he sat down. "But it cannot be anything good I suspect."

Iago nodded his head in agreement.

"At least the break is welcome," he added with a sigh.

Gahntuar returned surprisingly quickly, herding a rather young, terrified girl he had managed to corner towards them with careful yet insistent prodding of his snout. She relaxed noticeably with realization when she spotted the cut on Merec's arm. She quickly went to work on the cut despite Merec's assurances that it was not that serious, earning a delighted croon from the dragon as he watched her tend to his human.

"So, I was thinking," he announced as Merec's arm was bandaged with what may have been a bed sheet not too long ago, "about what you said about not being able to see what you are shooting at."

"There is nothing you can do about it," Merec replied absent-mindedly, thanking the young healer in training and watching her scurry off, giving the dragon a last, sideways glance.

"Well, my fire is almost depleted so I was thinking..." Gahntuar started to say, but then he hesitated, as if not sure how to broach the subject. "I... I can carry you up and... well, then you can fire arrows from my back."

"That is not going to work," the human replied with a smile. "In any fight, you will have to twist and turn sharply, even if we have gryphons protecting our flanks. I'm afraid I'll still fall off, no matter how careful you are."

"About that ..." the dragon added, fidgeting with a cobblestone, "maybe you were right about the saddle."

Merec blinked at him in surprise, unknowingly making the dragon even more uncomfortable.

"Wait, what?" he finally managed to ask when he managed to speak again. Gahntuar looked away from him, as if not sure about this himself.

"I said maybe you were ..." he started to say, but Merec cut him off.

"I meant what are you trying to say?" the human clarified, still rather unsure if he had heard correctly. "You have always been adamant that you will never wear a saddle!"

"If we had a saddle, we could have been better prepared for this," Gahntuar grumbled, prying the stone he had been playing with loose. "We might have even been able to fight off those first two. I should have allowed you to get one for me long ago."

"Have you hit your head during the latest fight?" Merec asked worriedly. "Come here, let me check!" Without even waiting for a reply, he grabbed Gahntuar by the horn and pull his head down to check for any injuries.

"I did not hit my head..." Gahntuar growled indignantly, but still did not pull away from the human.

"It might have been me," Iago quickly admitted.

"Come again?" Merec asked, too surprised to realize that he had let go of his dragon's horn. Gahntuar quickly pulled his head back to safety.

"We were talking about Jihni riding on Kael's shoulder," Iago replied, "and somehow the conversation turned to saddles and bridles."

"And I now understand that what I thought about saddles was all wrong," Gahntuar quickly added. "I now understand that a saddle might actually be useful, so I want to try one on."

To the dragon's confusion, Merec did not seem as eager about it as he usually had been. Instead, the human only frowned at him.

"I'm afraid that it's not that easy ..." he finally said. "It will take time to get one."

"Why?" the dragon asked innocently.

"For starters, it takes time to make a proper saddle." Merec tried to explain with a suppressed sigh. "Up to ten days even. The leather needs to be shaped or glue needs to set overnight, so there is no speeding it up either. Then the real problem is that no-one has ever made a saddle for a dragon, so we don't know what form it should be to start with. We cannot just throw any saddle on your shoulders and expect it to work."

"Why not?" Gahntuar asked, looking more like a child being told off as he ruffled his wings in annoyance. Iago was the one to quickly explain to the dragon.

"It is all about your shape," the gryphon said patiently. "You see, gryphons' wings make them bulkier than horses, but they are leaner than dragons. A saddle needs to fit perfectly, or it will chafe something fierce and the rider will be thrown about uncontrollably. Even worse, it can impede your movements or put uncomfortable pressure on your back or shoulders, making them go numb quickly. The point is, a saddle that doesn't fit exactly is worse than no saddle at all."

"Right," Gahntuar replied dejectedly, ears and crest pulled down low. Merec was about to comfort the upset dragon when the gryphon interjected again.

"But you can try a harness," Iago suggested. "It can be easily adjusted to fit any form. Of course, it will not be as comfortable as a proper saddle, but it will do the important job of keeping your rider," he pointed a wing at Merec "where he belongs."

"That might work!" Gahntuar chirped excitedly, suddenly eager to try it out.

"And where do you propose we find one?" Merec asked a little annoyed, glaring at the smug gryphon with folded arms.

"I believe I can help you with that!" a new voice suddenly added. The three of them looked around in surprise at the young woman who had spoken. Merec vaguely remembered her as a tomboy from his youth who always tried to show everyone willing to hear that she could do anything as well as any of the boys her age. For the most part, she was also right. She eventually secured an apprenticeship as a leathersmith just to compete with her elder brother. Instead, she turned out to be her master's best student.

Lesley, if he recalled correctly.

"Sorry, couldn't help to overhear the discussion about the saddle," Lesley added a little sheepishly when the three gawked at her. "I've still got enough leather straps and buckles at my shop that was left over after we secured the barricades. You can have them, it should be more than enough to make something for the dragon." She turned to the said dragon. "I am right that you want to try out a saddle, right?"

"Yes!" Gahntuar chirped excitedly. "Can you make one?"

"Not a saddle during the siege," she quickly confirmed what Merec had said, but then added "but I can definitely assist with that harness. And I can guarantee that it will be sturdy enough to keep Merec on your back in a fight."

"So, what is it in for you?" Merec asked suspiciously.

"Isn't it obvious?" she questioned, actually sounding surprised. "I want a stab at making that dragon saddle. I can't imagine a leathersmith who would let such an opportunity pass them by. Just imagine, to be the first to make an actual dragon saddle!"

"But we hadn't trained to fight like this, remember?" Merec continued to argue, turning his attention back to the dragon. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he found it rather strange that their roles had been reversed: Now he was resisting the use of a saddle, while Gahntuar was trying to persuade him otherwise.

"I know ..." Gahntuar admitted a bit sheepish himself "but there is something strange about this break in fighting. I wouldn't be surprised if Seghrien is planning something, so we need to adjust as well. Maybe, we can throw him off balance with a strange move like this."

"Merec does have a point," Iago agreed with Merec, but then he turned his attention towards the human. "But so does Gahntuar. I think it is at least worth a try."

"Okay, let's give it a try then," Merec agreed to this crazy plan. But then he turned to Gahntuar with a serious expression. "But you are aware that this will set a precedent?"

***

The sun was already setting on the second day of the siege, basking the little field just outside town in a rather soothing golden light. Yet, the atmosphere was eerie, to say the least, almost oppressive with the promise of more violence to come. In the far distance, the pained cries of orcs wounded in the latest assault filtered through the trees from the field hospital to where the lucky ones were evacuated. But amidst the clumps of corpses and war materials that were strewn across the once pristine field, nothing moved anymore.

Nothing, that is, except for a large number of crows that had gathered here for the feast that lay on offer outside the town's walls. They were arguing and squabbling amongst themselves to be the first to get at the best pieces before the darkness of the coming night interrupted their feasting. But one of the blackbirds seemed disinterested in the cacophony of its peers. And unlike its fellows, it did not pay attention to the fresh supply of meat.

Instead, it pecked a little here and a little there, slowly working its way up to the wall itself. Then, with a quick glance around, it flew up over the wall and landed on one of the merlons to regard the town. However, its infiltration of the town had not gone unnoticed.

There was an angry screech, just before the crow was attacked by a lone Phoenix that had been patrolling the perimeter of the town. The firebird struck at the crow with quick blows, the flicker of embers glowing at the very tips of its talons. But for all of the phoenix's speed, the crow proved to be surprisingly agile, twisting time and again away from the dangerous strikes.

"Leave foul creature!" the Phoenix screeched as it started with a fresh wave of attacks. "Be gone and aw..."

The crow's counterattack was struck suddenly and deadly accurate. Small sparks of lightning danced across the Phoenix's chest, and the firebird stiffened mid-sentence before it fell limply to the rampant.

With the feathery guard dead, the crow quickly dropped to the ramparts as well, ducking into the deep shadows cast by the low sun and dragging the corpse out of view. Though the interaction with the Phoenix had barely been five seconds, the firebird had kicked up quite the commotion. It would not do to be discovered now!

But luck seemed to have been on the crow's side, for none came by to see what the fuss had been about. Allowing a relieved sigh to escape her beak with a soft whistle, the crow regarded the dead Phoenix for a moment.

She was impressed with herself: It was notoriously difficult to kill a Phoenix before it could get the chance to mold their famous suicide shape. In all of history since their creation by the Witch King, she had heard of it being done only three times.

She should definitely remember to come to gather this fallen bird up and have it stuffed. It would look great in her collection of trophies. But first, she had work to do.

Making sure the dead Phoenix was hidden well enough, the crow continued to fly into town. She made her way across the town unopposed, hopping from roof to roof without receiving as much as a second glance if that. Eventually, she found her victim in the little town's Market Square.

But she croaked in dismay when her luck ran out. Unsurprisingly, the human was with his dragon companion, but the two of them were surrounded by a slowly growing crowd of curious onlookers. The crow herself looked on in confusion as she watched the spectacle unfold. Leather straps were being fastened to buckles in some places, or tied securely together in others. The mad weaving of straps was already taking on the shape of what looked to be a harness for the dragon, but for what she could not fathom.

The crow clacked her beak in annoyance. It did not matter what hairbrained idea those two had gotten in their heads. She had a job to do before the last of the sun's light faded again, and the fact remained that her original quarry was completely out of her reach.

She could probably shift into someone from town and try to seduce him away from the crowd. But it would take time, the time she did not have. With another annoyed click of her beak, she turned in another direction and started looking for someone else to target.

A loner would be best, one who she could easily seduce. Even better would be someone upon whose vanity she could play. Or maybe someone at the edge of their limit, frustrated to be fighting for something they did not believe in. Maybe someone who...

"I don't have time for this!" an angry voice of a young man drifted up to her. Interested and more than a little hopeful, she turned and landed on a nook of a nearby roof.

"You know that we are running dangerously low on arrows!" an older, sterner voice scolded the original speaker furiously.

The crow peeked over the edge of the roof and was surprised to find herself at the forge of the town's blacksmith. There were three men, each hammering away at their own anvils as they were hard at work, busy forming iron bits into crude bodkin arrowheads. Close by, another team was busy fixing these new spikes onto shafts and a third team was busy fletching the new arrows. It was an impressive setup, the crow had to admit, one that turned out arrows at a surprisingly quick pace. Though the quality of the final product left much to be desired.

"This isn't even our fight!" the original voice snapped. The crow turned her attention to the speaker just as he threw a completed arrowhead onto the pile of finished spikes with enough force to make the rest tumble from the bench. The young man, probably just about to finish his apprenticeship if he wasn't already done, snarled in frustration at the mess. He dropped his hammer with complete disregard for the tool onto the bench to start and pick the scattered arrows up again.

"Berton!" a mountain of a man and obviously the master smith of this forge snapped, equally irritated. "That is enough."

"I'm... I'm sorry, master," the elder apprentice apologized with a still, frustrated sigh. "I'm just tired of making one bodkin after another. And I'm sure this junk I'm making is getting worse as I go along. I know I'm better than this!"

"They don't have to be good, they just have to be sharp!" the master blacksmith growled, but then seemed to realize that he was also being unreasonable. He cast a quick, critical glance at the pile of arrowheads, obviously noticing how the latest spikes were a bit crooked.

"Though, you might have a point," he admitted with a tired sigh. "We are all tired and not producing our best." Carefully, he set his own tool down and took a determined step away from his anvil. "I tell you what: Take a rest for a moment. The fletchers have enough to keep them busy for a while longer, anyway."

The master blacksmith turned to get a breath of fresh air when he noticed the other apprentice still hard at work.

"You two, Claude!" he ordered.

"Yes sir," the younger apprentice tried to reply crisply but it was clear that he was struggling to keep focused. "As soon as I'm done with this one."

Berton didn't reply to his master. He only dropped the bundle of arrowheads he had been picking up back onto the pile, and without another word, stumbled into the building.

The crow smirked, even if only in thought. That older apprentice would make the ideal replacement target for her plan, maybe an even better one in fact. Quickly, she flew down to the front of the little building, where she sneaked in through an open window she found. A shadow seemed to pass over her, and the bird turned into a gorgeous, young woman just barely into her twenties. She appeared to be rather tall and slender, with long, raven black hair. She was simply dressed, wearing only a simple gown of fine, gray wool. Dark eyes that seemed to hold centuries of secrets that needed to be shared, scanned her surroundings and her full lips curved into a seductive smile when she was satisfied that her entry had gone unnoticed.

She hummed quietly to herself as she walked around the room, carefully slipping a little Manashape into strategic points as she went. She paid particular attention to the door and window. The shape was nothing spectacular, only a well-known spell to significantly dampen any sound that may be made in the room. It would not do to be interrupted by a curious bystander while she was busy with what she did best.

Once satisfied that the room was secure enough for her purposes, she walked over to one of the weapon racks and started to appraise the array of weapons therein. A slim Rapier caught her attention and with a grin, she picked it up.

She tested its balance quickly and when she was satisfied enough with it, she did a few practice strokes and swipes with it. Back in her youth, she had acquired an impressive skill with the slim blade, and unlike the other demons, she never fully abandoned her old life. Make no mistake, she truly enjoyed the great power she received from the great Dark One, but why throw away perfectly good tools?

"What are you doing here?" Berton's startled voice interrupted her musings. "How did you get in..."

"Is this yours?" she cut his question off as she executed an elegant lunge forward. "I am impressed with the quality of the marksmanship. It is a little off balance, but more importantly, it is perfectly straight and with a wonderfully fine edge!"

"I... Yes, it is mine," the young man replied after a slight hesitation. "Though I'm still only an apprentice. Master Xeronne makes much better quality blades."

The young woman smiled confidently at him. She was a highly experienced seductress and immediately saw through his lie. But instead of being upset with the rather poor attempt at deception, she had to call upon all of her experience to contain herself.

"Still only an apprentice, and you already produced something like this?" she asked, making sure her voice portrayed admiration without letting it sound forced. "If this is the quality you are capable of now, then you are going to become a renowned smith one day!"

"Thank you," Berton replied through a forced smile, ignoring the stab of irritation at the praise he did not deserve.

The stranger did a few more practice thrusts, to the admiration of her audience. Berton watched in awe. It was very obvious that this woman had received quality tutorage in fencing, and that she was suburb at the art. But then his awestruck admiration of her was rudely interrupted when he suddenly became aware of his rock hard boner in his trousers. Quickly, he adjusted himself before she could notice the obvious tent. Only, he failed to do it inconspicuously. The stranger smirked when she saw him fumbling inside his pants, but was careful not to reveal to him that she had noticed.

"But even so," she said instead "you could become even greater. Without equal on the entire peninsula, maybe even western Selebore itself. "

"What ... What do you mean?" Berton asked intrigued. To become someone who is considered the best was very alluring to him. He had secretly despised this whole siege business; what did he care about some loser who lived alone in the woods and his pet dragon? But this chance meeting may just make this whole affair worth the effort. In fact, it might actually be the best thing to have happened to him this entire year.

"Interested?" she smiled, replacing the Rapier back where she found it. "But you should know that it will be hard work."

"Definitely!" he smirked confidently. "And I'm not afraid of hard work!"

"Have you ever thought about enchanting your blades?" she asked, stepping closer to him with an equally confident smile.

"Humans cannot wield magic!" Berton scoffed, but somehow he could not do it with the conviction he should have. In the back of his mind, he remembered the latest rumours of the town's outcast being gifted with magic. "Everyone knows that."

"What everyone thinks they know is usually not what is the truth," the mysterious woman replied with a knowing smile. "The claim that humans are incapable of using magic, is one such untruth. A lie to keep the truly powerful ignorant of their true heritage. For you see, with the right tools humans have become some of the greatest magi in the world."

"R-really?" Berton stammered, trying not to dare hope that she may be right. "D-do you know where ... er ... well, where I can find such ... tools?" he finally managed to ask. His thoughts seemed to have become sluggish, yet in contrast, his desires seemed to be clearer than usual: The desire to be famous, the desire to be important. The desire for her body...

"I do," the stranger smiled victoriously as if she had won a bet. She gave the final step towards him and with a soft hand, touched his cheek. Berton gasped and hesitantly reached to place his hands on her hips. He suddenly seemed to find it hard to think about anything but her sensual moves, her curvy body, her promises of a grand future.

The woman smirked suddenly as the young man lost the wrestling with her will without even noticing it and she saw his ambition and insecurities laid bare before her mind's eye. It all could serve her well in the long run, but for now, she focused specifically on what she needed to ensnare him: his sexual desires.

What she found did not surprise her. He was still young, with no real experience and still vague ideas about what kinks he liked. It was not mind reading as one would think about it, but only a deeper understanding of the man in front of her. And right now, he was just craving hot, passionate, almost animalistic sex.

She smirked, he would be easy.

"And I know people who can teach you the finer arts of enchanting," she added as she ran a finger down his neck.

"But," she suddenly snapped, pulling her touch away from him, much to his dismay "what can you offer me in return?"

Berton's self-assurance fell visibly. What could he, a young apprentice on the verge of graduating, offer a woman such as this?

"I don't have much to offer," he started to say, but the thought of losing this once in a lifetime opportunity suddenly had him desperate to please her. Frantically he started to grasp for things to please the gorgeous woman in front of him. "But I will repay you once I manage to settle down or ... or I can make you anything you desire ..."

She hushed him with a finger on his lips.

"I don't want riches nor trinkets," she assured him with an almost predatory smile. "But what I want from you, you can easily give me. Right here, right now."

"W-which is..." Berton started to ask, but then he gasped and his eyes widened in surprise when the woman groped unabashed at the bulge in his pants.

"Just your loyalty," she whispered huskily, now no longer hiding her carnal desires for him. "I have some ambitions of my own and your skills will be very welcome in achieving them."

"But I... I hardly know you..." Berton tried to resist, but his argument sounded lame even to his own ears. "I-I mean... I don't think I've seen you before." His head was swimming, his thoughts muddled with the desire to finally get laid.

"My name is Senna," she whispered softly into his ear as she leaned into his chest. "And I know you are Berton. Do we need more than that?"

Without waiting for a reply, Senna kissed him on the neck. The young man groaned as he gave in to his desires and returned the kiss to her shoulder. Eagerly, his lips travelled up her neck, but she pulled away. For a moment he thought that he had done something wrong, but she smiled confidently at him. He grinned and, taking charge of the situation, he pulled her into a heavy kiss, albeit a little awkward with inexperience.

Luckily, Senna's abundance of experience made up for his lack thereof. Their kiss quickly became frantic with desire and Senna did not hesitate to nudge him over to the counter. He only broke the kiss to rip his shirt over his head. As he discarded the garment, his eyes fell on her breasts and eagerly he grabbed them, massaging them each in turn. In his lust-clouded mind, he had not even noticed that she was suddenly completely naked.

Though he would have been a little too rough for most females, Senna found the treatment delightful. Virgins were always the best for her: The vast potential to mold to her liking more than made up for the lack of skill. She leaned back to emphasize her breasts for him and moaned in delight. As if realizing that she might be heard, she bit at her lip to try and stifle the sound, though it was more of a show for him. She knew the Manashapes she had placed around the room would block off the sound of what was happening. But she also knew that the threat of being caught always served as a catalyst for her prey.

As expected, he grinned at her attempts not to attract attention and lowered his face to one nipple. She broke down as he sucked on it and gasped a short high-pitched cry. Suddenly desperate for his attention herself, she pulled his head into her bosom with one hand whilst stroking his strong bareback with the other.

"So eager," she purred with delight as he focused on the other nipple. "so strong... You will do nicely!"

Senna pushed him away, her eyes flashing with desire as she attacked his trousers with frantic fingers. He smirked and quickly helped her get him out of his clothes. As soon as his trousers opened, she grabbed his penis and quickly engulfed it.

He grunted and grabbed at her head. For a moment he thought he felt short, slender horns on her forehead, but she sucked eagerly and he forgot about it. He moaned, forgetting completely about being quiet, and gave a small thrust forward. Senna smiled around his shaft and continued to suck.

Then the powerful succubus could not contain her own desires any longer. Her blessing revolved around her strength to seduce and twist the will of others, but it left her with the curse to always be in need of sex. Her teasing of the red drake earlier had left her worse off than him, and she desperately needed a real release.

"Enough teasing!" she commanded when she suddenly spat him out. She climbed up onto the counter, sitting down with her legs held wide apart for him. He could only stare at her pussy in dumbstruck awe.

"Like what you see?" she smirked, running a finger across her labia.

Still lost for words, he only nodded. His mind to befuddled to think, and his mouth was too dry to speak. But he knew that he wanted this desperately, he would do anything to have her.

"Then come here, handsome!" she smirked. "Come give me all you've got." To emphasize her words, she pushed harder, allowing a digit of one finger to slip into her pussy. His already wide eyes seemed to pop and for a moment she feared that he might cum there and then.

But to her relief, he managed to hold on. With fake self-assurance, he stepped forward, and grabbing hold of her thighs, pressed his dick into her crotch.

Or at least he tried to. He missed the mark and his penis rubbed along the inside of her leg. The feeling of his touch was still electrifying to Senna, and on another day she would have enjoyed the teasing herself. But now it wasn't nearly enough, she needed more.

"Let me!" she whispered eagerly, and as he pulled back, she took firm hold of him to guide him into her embrace. They moaned together as he sunk in, eagerly pushing all the way inside. She curled her legs around him and hugged his shoulders to herself as if attempting to trap him even more completely than she already had.

He surrendered completely to his instincts and immediately started to thrust into her with all of his strength. There was no gentleness or skill to his movements, only the desire to get off as quickly as possible. Though Senna liked wild sex like this from time to time, there was much she could teach him about the finer art of pleasing a woman. Unlike most she seduced, he was the perfect lump of clay to shape to her own needs. She was going to enjoy her new toy to the fullest in the years to come.

But for now, it didn't last nearly as long as she would have liked. It was probably because he was still very much inexperienced, or maybe he was worried about being caught by his former master. But he came without warning, announcing his delight in a loud gasp as he shuddered in her embrace. Caught off guard like this, she almost missed her opportunity to slip a favourite Manashape of hers into his mind, now that it was at its weakest with orgasmic bliss.

But Senna was more skilled in molding than most of her peers and compulsion was her other specialty. She felt the shape took hold in his mind even before his dick had started to trail off and was confident enough in her control over him to allow her guise to evaporate completely.

Berton, still embedded to the hilt inside her, gazed upon the mysterious beauty in her true form, alluring and yet so terrible. He suddenly felt revolted by her, but at the same time, he absolutely adored her. But his mind was still hazy with orgasmic bliss, and he struggled to make much sense of the light blue demon he was holding.

"Thank you, mistress!" he gasped out, still out of breath.

Senna grinned delightedly, even though she had not reached her own peak. He was young and quick, but virile. She could feel his warm seed within her and even though she did not cum herself, his gift would undoubtedly hold back her own addiction for a while longer. Of course, this wasn't perfect and she will need him to perform again tomorrow. But he was hers now, and she could force his release down until she came. She was almost giddy with anticipation of what was to come!

Along with the red drake outside, he would definitely be a worthwhile addition to her collection of pets. And though his skills with smiting still have a way to go, she was confident that he would make her proud. Who knows, maybe he could even take old Duas's place by her side. She so missed an equal since the death of the old demon general during the closing months of the Age of Legends. Though she had lots of lovers since then, he was her original lover and the only one she could truly have confided in.

But before that could happen, there was work to be done.

"You have done well, my pet and your loyalty will be greatly rewarded," she praised him as she ran her black talons through his hair. "But first there is something I need you to do for me..."

***

It was already a sizable crowd that had gathered in a clearing on the Market Square, watching with hushed whispers as the seemingly incomprehensible spectacle unfolded. Most people who could afford to have a look was there, from young Town Guards to the mayor, to even the draine who have been protecting the town's children. Indeed, most of the surviving phoenixes also joined in eagerly to witness the proceedings, softly twittering amongst themselves in their own language. Their presence, along with the strangeness of what was happening, led many there to consider that what they were witnessing could be a defining moment in history. That is if the dragon was really going to go through with this.

But not all present there were convinced of the significance of the moment though.

"I really don't think this is a good idea!" Sir Harald objected for the upmost time.

"I agree!" Felicity concurred with an angry scowl.

"You will find that changing a dragon's mind can be quite difficult," Merec replied nonchalantly, though he had to fight to contain his own excitement. The dragon's mood was surprisingly contagious and he was already itching to get into the sky again.

To distract himself, Merec checked his own harness he was wearing, idly fiddling with one of the two-inch long steel pins that had been inlaid across the ends of sturdy leather bands. There were six on each leg of various lengths, from those barely an inch long on either side of his ankles, to those of about three inches just above the knee. Then, there were two more cords on either side of his waist, though these were by far the longest.

"You are sure that these won't come undone while we are twisting about in the air?" he asked worriedly.

"Sure!" the leathersmith replied, a little impatiently. "It is the same concept used in gryphon saddles. It is designed to be easily fastened or uncoupled with the links on... Um..." she waved a hand unsurely at Gahntuar "the dragon's harness, but only when you intended it."

Lesley made final adjustments to one of the buckles used in Gahntuar's harness, fastening it securely against his chest.

"Does it have to be this tight?" Gahntuar growled, fidgeting with a strap on his side with a wing thumb.

"The tighter the better!" she confirmed, moving on to check on the next strap.

Oh, come on!" Iago's upset voice cut through the murmur of the crowd. "Let them have a go at it."

"They are not trained in fighting as a team!" Sir Harald countered the gryphon, obviously equally upset. "They will not be able to fight as effectively as they could."

"And more than that:" Felicity interjected, determined to stop this farce before it got out of control. "That mad dragon out there is after them both! Do you really want to make it easy for him to get to them together in one go?"

"Can you make up your mind?" Gahntuar called over his shoulder at her. "First you want us to fly out of here, which would have been together I might add! And now you don't want us to fly together at all."

"I didn't expect you to go flying into battle, you know!" the vixen snapped back, making the dragon grin mischievously at her.

While they were arguing, Merec took a closer look at the links attached to Gahntuar's harness, where his pins had to lock in. They were simple steel loops, that seemed to have been pinched on the one side to form a kind of T-shape while leaving the other end round. This was to provide a sturdy region where it could be attached securely to the harness by passing a leather loop through the flattened end and passing it around the pinched section. The other, round end was just big enough to allow the end of the pin on his harness to pass through it. Curiously, he pushed one of his pins through the loop he had been inspecting and was delighted to see the pin catch securely when it was pulled sideways.

"That doesn't fit in there!" Lesley suddenly scolded him.

"I know," he quickly said, twisting the pin to pull it out. "I was just checking how it worked."

"Right, I think we are all set!" the leathersmith announced. "Up with you. Let's see if this contraption does what it is supposed to."

An eerie, almost reverent silence fell over the crowd as if they were afraid to interrupt the moment. Ignoring them, Gahntuar crouched like he had done only a few times before, and Merec quickly climbed onto his shoulders. The silence was broken by a hum of astonishment as Merec settled himself and started to hook the two harnesses together.

"Seriously, do you ever listen to what I say?" Felicity asked exasperated, turning around to stalk away whilst lamenting how the fate of the world rested on the shoulders of two pig-headed imbeciles.

Lesley busied herself, making the last few adjustments to Gahntuar's harness and shortening some of the fastening cords, pulling Merec's legs even tighter against Gahntuar.

"There, all done!" she announced happily. "Okay, now try to shake him off."

Gahntuar gave her a dubious glance, but then he complied. He shook himself, carefully at first, but when the human on his back remained secure, he put more force into his shaking. Even when he shook himself like a wet dog, Merec was thrown about wildly, but the human remained where he was. He only stopped when he was satisfied that the harness was doing what he had been promised. Gahntuar turned his head around to look at Merec with a smirk.

"Maybe we should ask her to make us one where you can ride me pressed up against my stomach?" he asked the human in draconic, an excited gleam in his eyes.

Merec blushed beet-red at the suggestion, but before he could comment, they were interrupted by Sir Harald.

"Since you seem to be set on trying this out," the old soldier said, oblivious to what the dragon had suggested "I might as well give you some advice. Leave that short sword behind, it doesn't have the reach you'll need. Rather use this!"

The old soldier handed Merec a spear.

"A lance would have been better, or even a saber," he added, "but we don't have any of those available."

"Thank you," Merec replied, taking the spear. "But I was actually considering firing arrows from Gahntuar's back."

He managed to secure the spear in a loop of leather in the dragon's harness and quickly reached down again to take his bow and a fresh quiver from a stander-by. For a moment he thought about handing his sword down but decided to hold onto it for a while longer. They weren't going to be flying into battle right away, and having it with him now might give him a feeling how a saber would feel while he was in the saddle.

"You can try that," Sir Harald considered the young man's proposal. "But remember that you are used to shooting off arrows from a stationary position, not one that is constantly moving. You'll need to learn how to compensate for that and quickly."

"Yes, sir!" Merec replied, suddenly a little bit worried. He had not considered that detail.

"Remember there is a reason why a mounted soldier's main weapon is the lance," Sir Harald stressed, before turning to the dragon. "And Gahntuar, remember that you won't be able to move around as you are used to. Exactly how you will be affected, I cannot really say, I don't have any expertise in this area of warfare. So make sure that you stay with the gryphons we will be sending up with you. As you know, you are the main target for the remaining enemy dragons and they will be on you as soon as you take to the skies."

Felicity watched the spectacle from a short distance away, upset and distraught. She really didn't know what to think about this new development. Sure, Merec had been riding Gahntuar when she first met them. But now it seemed different somehow... more official.

"... think that it might be them the old elves talked about?" a hushed voice caught her attention. Shocked, she turned around to see that it was the elf and a male cervine arguing no doubt about the strange pair who was the centre of attention.

"Don't be ridiculous!" the elf scoffed at the suggestion. "Every attempt to close it has failed, ever since we even know of it. How could these two possibly achieve something the Five could not in the past seven hundred years?"

"Sorry, but what are you talking about?" the vixen asked curiously.

"Nothing of importance," the elf quickly stated, but his obvious nervousness only encouraged her more to find out what it was.

"It is just an old saying, nothing really," the deer agreed when Felicity stepped closer.

"A saying that predicted this would happen?" she asked.

"No!" the elf quickly interjected. "It is a saying that is used to indicate that something is impossible."

"And how does this saying go?" Felicity insisted, making the elf sigh in annoyance.

"It is said that it will only be possible for the Circle to close once..." the elf hesitated for a moment, as if not willing to admit a secret "... once the Lúgroccae takes to the skies."

Felicity felt her fur stand on end, at the implication. The closing of the Circle was a big deal indeed! Could it be what the dark prophecy talked about, why the Umbrins tried to kill off the Lumors? Why Gahntuar's family was so mercilessly hunted down? To prevent this very moment from happening?

Then something else occurred to her.

"What is the Lúgroccae?" she asked.

"It is a made-up word!" the elf snapped exasperated, but also clearly on edge as if ashamed to admit that it even existed. "It is a conjunction of two words that cannot fit together. It is sometimes used by the lower classes as an informal phrasing to refer to be an impossibility."

"But what would it translate as?" the vixen insisted.

"You are not going to leave this alone, are you?" The elf sighed. "Very well then. It is not a proper term, but the closest translation of Lúgroccae would be the... " He cast an unsure glance at where Gahntuar jumped into the air with a quick flap as if to take off, obviously testing that the harness wasn't interfering with the movement of his wings.

The elf turned back to Felicity with an unsure expression as he completed the translation.

"... the Dragon-Riders."

***

Berton's mind was still swimming as he walked down a smaller side road. He had enough common sense left to avoid being detected as he made his way to the northern part of town. He also knew his former mentor would be missing him by now, but he couldn't get himself to care. His mind was still flooded with endorphins, it was as if he was still fucking Senna, beautiful and terrible as she was. He found he had trouble to think about anything other than the succubus, about pleasing her, about the next time he could plunge his...

He blinked when he came unexpectedly to the main road of the town. He was almost there. Quickly he turned and hurried the last bit of the journey to the heavy Northern Gate. He didn't want to be caught where he shouldn't have been, but he need not have worried. The last light of the day was fading fast, and most people that weren't on watch duty, were at the Market Square, gawking at some spectacle or another he couldn't care much about.

It did not concern his mistress.

He had a duty to see to.

He reached his destination and found two guards stationed above the gate. It turned out to be some equine mercenary and a gryphon he did not know, one who probably came in with the group from the night before.

Good. This should make it easier for him.

"Equidae are not opposed to the idea of copulating with other peoples" the horse was saying. "In fact, I know a few stallions that have foreign species as part of their harems."

"Really?" the female gryphon replied eagerly. "So, when this is all over, what do you say about..."

The equine was the first to see him.

"Halt!" he interrupted his gryphon friend. "Who goes there?"

"Relax, I'm a friend!" Berton called back. The gryphon hen quickly flew down to him, to confront him directly.

"Who are you?" she demanded sharply. "And what are you doing here?"

"I'm Berton," the young man replied patiently. "I'm an apprentice to master Xeronne..."

"I know Xeronne!" the gryphon stated, clearly relaxing at the statement. "Yes, I think he has mentioned you. He was very excited about your apprenticeship, his first I believe. So, what are you doing here anyway?"

"My mistr... master wanted me to just check that you have everything in order, seeing that you cannot leave your post," he lied, flinching at the slip of his tongue. Luckily for him, the hen did not seem to have noticed it.

"How thoughtful!" she chirped happily. "I don't need anything, but Hearron might?" She looked up at the horse on the wall. "Do you need anything, dearie?"

"My sword broke during the last attack," the horse complained "and I had to fight with this axe I took off a dead orc. Powerful weapon, but I'm completely useless with it. Do you maybe have anything with a straight blade I can use instead?"

"Can you come down for a minute?" Berton asked. "It is a little difficult to be shouting up at you all the time."

The horse hesitated for a moment, not wanting to abandon his post even for such a short time. But the human had a point, so he nodded before passing into the gatehouse. As soon as the horse guard was out of sight, Berton struck. Without warning, he pulled a large knife from where he had concealed it and stabbed at the gryphon. He had no training or experience in fighting, yet somehow his mistress's magic helped to guide his hand. He struck true, stabbing the gryphon in the neck.

The surprised squawk from his victim was cut off as her vocal cords were severed. The gryphon tried to backtrack away from her attacker, and almost pulled Berton's knife from his hand. But somehow he managed to hold onto it and the blade slipped free with a wet slurp. The gryphon collapsed where she stood, gurgling for breath as her life-giving blood drained away.

Her horse friend emerged only moments later from the gatehouse's lower door again.

"I prefer to use a sword, because..." he started to say, but then hesitated when he noticed to his shock the dying gryphon. But he was a well-trained mercenary, and he quickly came to his senses. Still, he was just in time to see Berton slash at him as well. His training kicked in and he blocked the blow with a gauntleted fist. The impact sent the knife clattering to the ground.

"Raise ..." he started to call out, but the human kicked at his knees, making the mercenary stumble. Still letting Senna's influence guide him in movements completely foreign to him, Berton managed to hit the guard on the side of the head, before grabbing the knife and stabbing him in the neck as well.

"Hey, what is going on down there?" an angry voice called from the nearby tower.

"Everything is fine," Berton called back, carefully lowering the dead horse to the ground. "Just stumbled, that's all."

"You sure?" the voice asked, and Berton heard a door opening onto the balcony of the tower.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" he confirmed again, then added: "Just don't tell the guys, I'll never live it down."

"Sure." the other voice scoffed and the traitor could hear the smirk in the reply.

The door closed again and he could faintly hear the story of how he slipped on the cobblestones starting to be relayed to the others in the tower. Berton sighed with relief and turned back to town to make sure someone from the other direction hadn't seen him. But instead, he made eye contact with the dying gryphon, the shock at the betrayal still bright in her eyes even as they glazed over with death. In a moment of clarity, he was stunned at what he had done. He felt sick and disgusted with himself as he looked dumbly at his own hands, almost completely covered in blood. But, he also felt more alive and powerful than he had ever been before.

But those eyes... The eyes of the dying gryphon haunted him. He shuddered at the memory and tried to rid himself of it, tried to tell himself that the hen had to die for his mistress's sake. It didn't help.

Shuddering again, he gave the nearby tower one last glance to make sure that the guards therein weren't going to investigate the disturbance properly. When he was satisfied that he was still safe, he turned to the gate itself.

He had done much, but he still had work to do.

Quickly, he lifted the latch on the smaller service gate and slowly pushed it open. He had only managed to open it a little when a shape suddenly appeared through the gate. It was wielding a heavy, mean looking serrated sword, and barely stopped short of ramming the lethal point through Berton stomach.

"Mistress Senna sends her regards," Berton said calmly to the damn biggest orc he had ever come face to face with. Though on the inside, he was whimpering and begging for his life to be spared. The orc regarded him for a bit before he spoke with a very unfriendly snarl.

"You are the shadow friend, I assume, " the orc grumbled, motioning for more of its kin to join him.

"Yes!" the human replied, outwardly calm as can be. The orc watched him a bit longer as several dozen orcs started to filter in through the opened gate. He did not say a word, but there was a rather obvious scowl of disapproval evident on his features.

"Then go!" Chief Urguss commanded with a quick nod of his head towards the forest. "We don't want to accidentally kill the mistress's new pet, now do we?"

The orc snarled at the human, and despite his fake bravado, Berton shrunk back a little away from the intimidating creature. It was obvious that if Mistress Senna wasn't protecting him, he would already be dead. Quickly, he hurried out the gate, a crow suddenly appearing to follow him into the night.

"Right," Chief Urguss growled, rather satisfied with himself. "You twelve: Make sure you open the gate fully as soon as you can see the fires burning. The rest of you, follow me."

The orcs growled in delight, knowing what is about to happen.

"We've got some hunting to do!" the orc chief growled excitedly, leading the majority of the orcs down the side road Berton had just come from.

... To be continued.