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A Study of Connections

Part 5

For a-lycotonum

By Draconicon

Hazel and Vakrozad were the first people back to the camp, and they found Mol sitting at the central campfire of the little tent-walled mini-settlement that the hobgoblins had set up for themselves. The seer was wrapped in her red robe, and she was grumbling to herself as she stared down at the fire.

Vakrozad chuckled.

"So, still grumpy about not being able to come to the festival?" the chief asked.

"Considering there were plenty of pretty-boy asses I could have enjoyed, yes. But that's not the reason I asked you to come back."

The image of the aged woman pushing some of the male priests into the dirt and using their asses popped into Hazel's head, and she could not get it out fast enough to avoid blushing. She rubbed her cheeks horribly, trying to scrub the thought out of her head before it started getting too extreme. She managed it just as she 'saw' the seer starting to jam something...big...into Tristan's ass, and that thought nearly made her lose it.

Still, she was able to get rid of those thoughts and sit down with only a minor blush at the campfire, taking a few deep breaths to clear her head.

"So...if you didn't want to complain, why did you ask me and Vakrozad to come back?"

"There's something that the two of you need to do."

"Says who?" the chief asked.

"Says the spirits."

"I thought that you just channeled...um..."

"Demon lords?" Mol asked, arching an eyebrow at the half-elf. "You thought that I was that new to the game? Girl, a seer that can't channel more than one thing is damn near useless."

"..."

"Gods don't see everything, and neither do demons," the older hobgoblin said, reaching into her robe and pulling out a few herbs. "If you want to see the world, you gotta learn to take it from every set of eyes you can."

"Are you sure that's not just you getting as many sexy shows as you can?" Vakrozad asked.

"I didn't say I didn't have my preferences."

It was amazing how quickly the hobgoblins could leave her in the dust with the way that they just leaped forward, and more than that, how they were much more advanced than she expected. Again and again, they showed that they had thought things through, that they were smarter than they looked, and that they were eager to be better.

How do you keep making my people look worse?

That was the part that stung. She kept expecting them to be monstrous on some level, or at least ignorant. She was supposed to be here to be a guide, to keep the worst from happening, but she had to moderate her own people more than the hobgoblins. Every single time that something bad was going to happen, it had been something that her own people would have started, not Vakrozad or his people.

This wasn't supposed to be how it worked, and she had to fight her own prejudices to keep from complaining.

Take it as a learning experience. You believed that there was some good to be gleaned from Melchiresa's teachings on the pack. Perhaps there is something else to be gleaned here, from them.

She folded her legs quietly and quickly, getting comfortable beside the fire. Mol leaned over the flames, scattering her herbs over it as she spoke.

"I've been in touch with the spirits of the forest, and with the minor demons that linger still."

"We purged those, though," Hazel muttered.

"Don't interrupt." Mol snapped a pair of twigs, adding them to the fire, and the blaze turned purple. "Yeah, I'm sure you tried. They were fucking pathetic, but they still had a few things to say."

"...I..."

"Hey, girl, you going to keep your mouth shut, or does Vakky here have to sit on you?"

"...Vakky?" Hazel asked, looking at the bigger male at her side. He was blushing. "She calls you...Vakky?"

"Um...not usually."

"...Hehe."

"Don't you start. And you, Mol. Never again."

"Whatever you say...Vakky," the seer said with a smirk.

As Vakrozad grumbled to himself, Hazel leaned forward a bit, looking at the strange-colored fire. She knew that this was something that some of the primitive tribes did, throwing herbs that would create different smokes into fires. The smoke would bring different hallucinations to the people of a tribe, and it would be a way of sharing visions. There was no magic involved in this part, just herbs and the medicinal reactions that people had to them.

Nevertheless, she was quite curious. She'd never gone through something like this before.

As the seer cast the last of her herbs into the fire, the smoke thickened. It seemed to sparkle, bringing a sense of light and life to the smoke before them. It turned from black to gray, and then to the white color of mist as it settled around them.

"I have seen many things since coming to this forest," Mol said, her voice starting to slip further into the distance. "However, what had become most clear is the fact that you two are destined to find something here."

"Us?" Hazel asked, blinking.

"Yes, you. Who else, the trees?"

"...Well, I guess it was a stupid question, but -"

"Really stupid, girl."

"...No need to be rude."

"I'm trying to tell you what you need to do, so shut up and listen."

The half-elf nodded, slowly closing her mouth. She didn't like the rudeness, but she knew that it was better than pushing for the seer to be nicer. At least, for now. After the vision, she'd talk to her about it.

The smoke billowed again, and Mol's voice again seemed to slip further and further away, coming to them as if from an echo rather than from just cross the flames. Hazel, in turn, almost felt as if she was getting lost in the white haze, breathing in the smoke. It was hot and a bit sweet, a bit off, a bit...warm. She groaned as she felt tiredness and lethargy creeping through her limbs as if she'd been running all day long.

"You are destined to find something that will shake the world," Mol whispered. "You will find it in the depths of the forest, pursued by those that do not wish you to see it."

Hazel groaned, feeling herself becoming more limp, more relaxed. There was something in the smoke that she didn't recognize, something that was pulling her down with more force than she realized. The smoke was almost putting her to sleep, almost sending her into some sort of dream.

She didn't want to submit, but she realized that she didn't have much of a choice. She groaned as her head leaned to the side, and she fell asleep as she collapsed against Vakrozad's shoulder.

_The shadows grew long as she ran through the forest, hearing the screams and shouts of the villagers behind her. They screamed horrible things, things that she had never expected to hear from them.

Witch.

Heretic.

Traitor.

They screamed them again and again, and she recognized them here and there. Sister Oakhoof. The baker. A guard of the temple. She remembered them, knew them, and they were screaming at her with all the hate that they could muster._

What had happened? What had she done?

She didn't know, but she had to keep running. It was the only option open to her.

At her side was Vakrozad, the hobgoblin injured, bleeding from a wound along the side of his face. It was a ripped, jagged thing, his cheek opened up as if by a blade, except that it was rougher than any blade would have left behind. Something pointy, then, something that had cut right across his face and tried to rip it off.

They were both running, jumping, fleeing through the forest, both barefoot, him nearly naked.

**Hazel moaned as she slammed her ass back against his cock, his bestial shaft spreading her other hole open in a way that she had never imagined would be so pleasurable. The sister's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt him bury himself up to the hilt in her ass, his balls grinding up against her pussy.

It wasn't cheating if it wasn't breeding, right?**

Hazel gasped as she came half-out of the trance, but her shock was quickly, forcibly buried beneath the calming effects of the smoke again. Before she could question why she had imagined herself leaning against the temple getting fucked from behind, she was sliding back into the vision of the 'quest' that she and Vakrozad were on.

#

_Back in the forest, no longer so immediately pursued by the mob. There were shouts in the distance, but they weren't as loud, weren't as harsh. She didn't hear the specific voices anymore, and she shivered as she imagined what would have happened if they'd been caught. She could feel everything, the tiredness, the hurt, the betrayal of her people as they kicked her out for saying...saying...

What had she said? In the vision, she must have known, but she was a passenger in her own head, and that wasn't available to her.

Instead, she and Vakrozad kept moving, no longer running, but still moving quickly. Her feet hurt, and she was aware that she had ripped her robe many times while fleeing from the mob. She was almost exposed, and she slowly pulled her robe off, leaving it behind as she walked through the tighter trees. There was no point in covering herself anymore, not even down there.

The chief was no less naked, the pair of them following the corridors of ever-narrower trees until they reached a cave. He looked less puzzled than her, and he reached up to the edges of the tunnel entrance, running his fingers along the little marks that were scribed into the tunnel opening._

"Be Welcome, Ye Pack," he read.

**Hazel groaned as she heard the stories of the hobgoblin clan, educated by Mol while Vakrozad gave her a rough fingering under her robes. She could feel his digits working into her, feel his rough hand cupping her sex and grinding on her clit through the various folds of her dog-cunt. He didn't seem to mind. If anything, the bulge against her ass was only getting harder as he fondled her, as he touched her beast parts.

He bit the back of her neck, and she arched her back with a moan.**

Another waking, another shudder down her spine as she went through another vision that was so real that it might as well have been happening. She tried to pull herself to wakefulness, to tell Mol to stop, that this was too much, but it was too late. She was already sinking again, already sliding back down into the darkness and the white smoke.

Further into the cave they walked, leaving behind the world of the natural forest and descending further into the cave of the demon lord. There were growls and snaps in the darkness, little sounds of wolves that had been here, but they were ghostly, faded. They were not real, but only the memory of pack.

She didn't feel the danger that she should have. Perhaps it was the fact that she had already given up so much, or perhaps it was the fact that she had stopped caring about whether other people would judge her, but she felt almost at home here. No, she felt like she had left home, and that this was another one, a place that might welcome her in after leaving the other one behind.

Her sex puffed as she walked deeper into the cavern, becoming more and more of a thing that she couldn't ignore between her legs. She didn't go so far as to touch it, but she did feel it, notice it, feel it getting more and more swollen between her thighs.

The smell must have been intense, because the hobgoblin at her side was starting to react. She saw, blushed, but moved on.

Then, the ghosts of the pack came.

They lunged for her, but Vakrozad was there, and he, more than she, could fight.

With roars and growls and sweeping blows, he fended off the ghosts, but they could not advance. The power of the demon lord and those it had touched still defended this place, and they were not entirely welcome. Not yet.

#

**Hazel moaned as she covered her sex, arching her back again and again as she was fucked on a stone slab, somewhere just out of the temple, just after a meeting with Tristan. Her body craved it, needed to be fucked, but she still refused to allow Vakrozad to use her pussy. That was saved. That was given to another.

Yet, she couldn't deny him this hole. Couldn't say no. She needed him, craved him in there, and he was more than happy to give her what she wanted.

He held her down, not cruelly, but powerfully, reminding her to submit, to give him what he wanted, to take what he was willing to give her. The dirty, hot feeling of his cock pounding her ass made her feel like some lowly beast, and yet, that actually made it hotter, particularly as he kept her in place, held her down like she was his pet.**

"Please..."

Her body was on fire as she came out of the trance again, and she begged for relief. She didn't know what she could do, what she could say. The words died in her throat, unable to pass through the smoke that was already filling her again.

The sister of Erastil slipped into trance again, closing her eyes.

_Bloody, battered, bruised, Vakrozad still stood between her and the pack, holding them at bay. The blood on his face continued to flow, though through cracks and shards of dried blood. New wounds had appeared all across his chest and legs, but he still refused to stand down between her and the ghosts.

They growled before them, and Hazel realized that they didn't know him. He had been too far from Melchiresa for too long. She had to...had to...

"Let me..."

She stepped forward, feeling almost like a dog stepping between the wilds and her master. It was a strange feeling, but one that still bonded her and him, one that felt good, felt right.

Hazel moved to stand between him and the ghosts, and as she did, she spread her legs, showing the mark of the demon lord between them. She spread her canine folds, and one of the ghosts came to her. He leaned in, his spectral nose nudging against her sex, and he breathed. She felt the ghostly, chilling touch of that passage of air, but she didn't move. As embarrassing as it was to expose herself, it was needed. It would give them safe passage._

Eventually, the faded specter of the wolf nodded, and disappeared. The passage was empty again, and they could move forward. She shivered, particularly when Vakrozad chuckled, patting her head.

"Good girl. Good guard dog," he said, and she felt a surge of pleasure from her head down to her pussy.

She got to her feet, following behind him. The cave was warmer, now, and she could feel things getting...more heated...

**Caught. Tristan found them, Hazel in the hobgoblin's lap, his cock buried inside of her ass, his fingers in her pussy. It was the most that she had yet allowed Vakrozad, but it was more than she had ever meant. She was all but naked, wearing only the collar of submission that the hobgoblin had given her, a pleasurable feeling of being his...his...pet...

Tristan stared at them, and she came as he stared at her debauched behavior. She couldn't help it. She had been half-hoping that someone would catch them out for days, now, wanting to be seen like this, wanting to be exposed for what she had become. A dirty girl, a naughty, natural slut.**

Still a sister, but a slutty sister, unable to help herself as she fell deeper into submission, both loving...and otherwise.

Tristan shook his head, slowly closing the door, but she did not miss his erection, nor his blush. He wanted this, too.

"Nnngh..."

Something had changed. She was in a different position. She was not just sitting anymore. She was...she was...

Something hard was against her back, and something stiff between her ass cheeks. Hazel moaned, whimpering, but she was already sliding down again.

The altar of Melchiresa. It burned with power, with the demonic aura that refused to die, no matter how purified the land around it became. Hazel could feel the corruption in the air, the dark power that had turned Vitus into a hellhound, the power that had nearly destroyed the Arcanamirium. It was the same here as it had been there, except that the altar here was even more powerful than the one that Orlov had constructed under the school. This one had been here for far longer, and was far more primal.

She walked up to it, even as Vakrozad grunted, huffing, rubbing his face. She could tell that he was fighting the instincts that the corruption was awakening, but Hazel...

Hazel stared at the altar. It was not merely an altar to the Demon Lord of the Hunt, but to something else. There were more than merely the faces of wolves and the emblems of claw and tooth. There were other prints, like the marks of hooves along the edges of the altar, and there, at the head of it...

At the head of the altar, almost like a coat of arms over a bed, was the head of a hound being contained between the antlers of a stag.

Melchiresa. Erastil. Together.

She was right.

**And she was drawn forward...pulled along. Hazel stumbled forward, drawn to the altar almost as if there was a hook in her sex, something that was there to pull her in, draw her along. Nothing could stop her now.

As she laid on the altar, she could feel the power of the demon lord pouring through her, inviting her to join them, to become part of the Pack again. She could have all the love of family, all the power that she had with the temple. All she had to do was allow herself to be changed. To be brought in again.**

"I...I have to...I have to tell them..."

Tell the church. Let them know that she had proof. Even if they didn't believe her immediately, Tristan would. He had been looking for this, for any sign that there was something that linked the old and the new, the gods and the demons.

He would listen.

Yet, here she lay, unable to help herself as she spread her legs further and further. She rubbed the plump, inhuman folds between her legs, encouraging herself to drip. The thick scent that rose from her pussy drew Vakrozad - her master, her leash-holder, the one that collared her - to her, to stand between her legs. She could feel the heat of his cock, the throbbing manhood that pressed so close to her sex.

She could give herself to him.

She could surrender right here and now.

She wanted to...she wanted to so badly...

He grabbed her hips, taking the choice from her. She wore the collar, she wore the pendant, and she was helpless. Hazel felt the magic of the collar and pendant stripping her of any choice in the matter, leaving her a submissive slave to the desires of others.

His cock rested against her, bestial, slender, but oh so long. She parted her legs for him, and he parted her pussy walls for her.

"Ah!"

Hazel gasped, almost screaming as the power of the altar made the pleasure a thousand times better than it should have been. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets, her need screaming out of her throat like long-caged demons.

"Yes...fuck me...FUCK ME!"

She wrapped her legs around him, pulling his cock in deeper, forcing him to lean over her. Already, the transformation of the demon lord was rushing through her, and she barely cared. She was collared; someone had to hold the leash, and if Vakrozad wasn't strong enough to be her alpha, then someone else would be.

As the black fur sprouted from her body, she could feel herself fading, falling, drifting. Hazel the priestess was slipping. Hazel the hellhound was becoming.

She screamed, pleasure already spilling from between her legs, her eyes rolling back, even as she felt the presence of her god and her demon lord looming over her. The hound head and the antlers alike glowed at the top of the altar, and -

#

Hazel gasped as the vision came to an end, finding herself half-held, half-cuddled on Vakrozad's lap. The awkward feeling of a boner pressing against her ass was all too real, and she blushed hard as she realized that the front of her robe was also quite wet. She slowly looked up and back, seeing the oiled-up chief looking down at her.

"Did you...did you see..."

"I'm not sure if it was the same thing, but I saw something."

"Um...us..."

"Doing it?"

"On an altar?"

"...Heh, we might have seen the same things after all. You felt pretty damn good."

"..."

Turning away from him, she swallowed the words that such a thing would never happen. If it had been seen in a vision like that, then there was every possibility that it would happen. There had been clues, though, clues that might help her find a way to push past the whole inevitability of the situation.

At least, if I can remember them...

That was going to be the hard part. She was struggling to keep all the different parts of her vision in her head, and her embarrassment was making her veer away from all the naughty ones. She reached up to her throat, remembering the collar, trying to make a note to herself to never accept something like that, since it had been what had pushed her to obey, to fall to lust in such a way...

Or at least, she thought it was. Was there...was there something else?

There must have been. A collar alone wouldn't have been able to counter a holy pendant like what Sister Oakhoof had given her. There had to be something else from the visions that she wasn't remembering.

She wanted to get up, but she felt too weak, the physical symptoms of breathing in all the vision-smoke still lingering with her. Hazel groaned as she tried to shift herself off of Vakrozad's boner, at least, but that too was a bit difficult. She groaned, trying to focus on something else, to take her mind off of the humiliation of being...like that.

"Was all of that...inevitable?"

"If you pursue the quest, most of it is," Mol admitted. "There are things that you can change, details that might be different, but where you start and where you end will probably be the same."

"With me..."

"Probably. But hey, at least you're getting dicked; I'm chasing people off with these wrinkles."

"But..."

She looked over her shoulder. Vakrozad chuckled.

"What, think a boar's too wild for you, guard dog?"

"That's...that wasn't where my head was going at all!"

"Well, just saying. I'll look forward to it, if it felt half as good as it did in that vision."

"We're not doing that!"

"She just said it'll probably happen."

"...Mol?" Hazel slowly turned around. "What...exactly...was that quest for? Why were we looking for that altar?"

"That is where things start to get hazy, clouded," the seer said, crossing her legs and pressing her feet together with a soft click. Trotters, Hazel imagined. "From what Vakky tells me, you're looking for proof that there's some link between Melchiresa and Erastil, that maybe there was some schisms or something. Heh. Pretty telling that it takes someone 'falling' to realize that the two aren't that different, really."

"Mol."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting to the point. From what I can tell, that altar's one of the Primal Points, a place where something big happened. And because of that, the damn thing doesn't show itself unless something big is happening around it. People on the cusp of something. People that are on the brink of making a huge decision for themselves."

"I've never heard of these things."

"That's because your kind hate the fact that 'good' and 'evil' have a chance to make their own case. They like to think 'evil' just goes around killing and raping and fucking things up. That's not how it works, and they're just blinding themselves to think so."

"Alright, Mol, that's enough," Vakrozad said. "So, what's this 'Primal Point' have to do with the vision?"

"Far as I can tell, it's the place where things went bad between Erastil and Melchiresa, and it's the place where she's gotta go if she wants to find out anything for sure. And because it's a Primal Point, it's not going to be there until there's something big that she - and you, Vakky - are going to have to decide. It's not something small-time, either. This is a place that only shows up at times of crisis. Life and death."

"...So the mob..."

"Probably was the only thing that let you find it, yeah," Mol said, nodding at the half-elf. "I don't know if that's gonna be the same when you start looking for it this time, but it's gonna take something big, girl. Something really big."

Hazel didn't know what to say. For all that she was interested in finding this out, and for all that Tristan had tasked her to figure out where the links were, she knew that this was pushing the boundaries between everything that she was supposed to believe in, and everything that she believed was right. The half-elf rubbed her arm, finally finding the strength to get back to her feet.

"I think...I think I should go back to the temple for the night," she muttered.

"Hmmph. One little vision and suddenly you're afraid?" Mol asked.

"It's a lot to take in."

"It's gonna be a lot more, by the end of it. And not just Vakky's dick."

"I'm not doing that," she repeated.

"It's up to you, but you know something is going to happen. Don't lie to a seer, girl."

Gritting her teeth, Hazel shook her head, turning away from both of the hobgoblins. She wasn't quite angry, per se, but she wasn't comfortable with staying any longer. After all that she'd seen in the visions, she needed time to sort herself out, to figure out what was real, what wasn't...

And she knew that she needed to be there to talk to Sister Oakhoof. She felt that, maybe, there'd be something that she could glean from the older woman. The elf might have been a conservative, and definitely anti-monster, but she might have some wisdom of how to handle something like this.

As she walked out of the ring of tents, she looked out at the dark forest. Here and there, she could see the lights of the hobgoblins returning from the temple. She wondered how many of them had gotten lucky, and how many of the women in the village would be carrying hobgoblin babies by the end of the festival.

She wondered if she would end up carrying one of Vakrozad's.

Slapping her forehead, she set off into the darkness. She didn't even have to think about the path, even now. She could -

Hazel froze in mid-step, slowly reaching up to her nose. She rubbed it a few times, then experimentally pinched it closed. She breathed through her mouth, and suddenly, she had no idea where she was going. Releasing her nose, she took a breath, smelling the air -

And she knew where she was going again. She could smell the temple and the villagers in the distance, a sweet perfume of natural plants and carefully cultivated gardens.

The half-elf felt a familiar shiver going down her spine. For all that she had been trying to tell herself that she was better, that there was nothing to worry about from her previous transformation, it was clear that not everything had been stripped from her. That, or the ritual with Mol had done something to return a bit of her corruption to her.

Oh please, no...

If someone besides Tristan found out about that, if there really was corruption in her from spending time with the hobgoblins, they'd be banished post-haste, and the entire festival would be tainted. The hobgoblins would never be invited back again, and she was sure that Sister Oakhoof would set up a kill-on-sight order for the paladins of the church. They would hunt the clan, and then...

Vakky.

She blushed as she realized how close she had become to him, and so quickly. She wasn't entirely keen on his crudeness, nor on his ease with sex that way, but there was something about him that still charmed her, at least enough to not want him to be hurt. And at least...

Hazel could feel her dog parts clenching, and she blushed, hurrying along, her bare feet reminding her of some of her visions, and how easily she'd submitted to being his dirty, naughty pet...

The End

Summary: Hazel and Vakrozad spend time in a vision, seeing what they need to do, or at least what Hazel needs to do, to uncover the links between Erastil and Melchiresa.

Tags: M/F, anal, vaginal, exhibitionism, master/pet, hobgoblin, half-elf, hybrid, series, fantasy, magic, vision, altar, corruption, animal anatomy, dog pussy, nudity, barefoot, embarrassed, semi-cheating, transformation,