FSE

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(This chapter will jump around a bit, but most of the events occur during the same period. I hope it's not too confusing. With something this large scale, spread across a city with so many characters, I thought different perspectives would make it feel slightly more realistic.)

Greg was no stranger to war. Mimid had seen more than its fair share of conflict in the past ten years, and more often than not, Greg was at the head of defensive efforts. As a result, preparing for war with Prilia was right within his area of expertise, and he enthusiastically trained his troops. Strangely, though, there was something bittersweet about it. He'd grown to know every member of his makeshift army, and the thought of losing even one of them was awful.

Soft touches along his stomach and a beak gently mouthing his earlobe broke him from his gloomy mood, and he heard Lumi's voice in his ear. "We'll be fine, you know. You've trained us well." Was his train of thought that obvious, or had his gorgeous lover grown to know him so well that he could read his mind? The phoenix's voice continued, "I know how I can distract you."

Turning around at Lumi's insistence, Greg felt himself stiffen immediately. Golden armor draped over Luminos's lithe, sexy body, made of hundreds of tiny chain links, hugging his slight curves. Somehow, the sight was even more erotic than nudity. He slid his arms around Lumi's waist, hands sliding under the chain to grip his plush, fluffy ass.

"How do I look?" Luminos's usual fishing for comments was just as endearing, and he brought his arms around Greg's shoulders, draping himself over the human. Silken lower lips slowly ground against Greg's growing erection, the slightest hint of wetness promising him a heavenly embrace. "Do I make a good soldier, sir~?"

A groaning push that split the phoenix's nethers open with gentle reverence quickened Greg's breath, and with practiced ease, he maneuvered his manhood into the phoenix's lower passage. Delighting in the wonderfully tight, heavenly heat, he shared a slow kiss with his avian lover. "You're gonna keep me hard the entire time we fight, you little tease." He breathed against downy neck feathers, delighting in the phoenix's natural scent mixed with the floral soaps Lumi loved to use.

"Oh yeah? Then maybe we'll have to sneak off to relieve some tension. I wouldn't dream of leaving you wanting~." Gentle feathered fingers teased over Greg's balls, legs spreading wide to accept him. The image the phoenix painted with his words stoked the fire in Greg's stomach, and as he spread his legs further apart, Lumi demanded Greg's entire length, his armor clinking softly with each deep pump.

"Gods, you're perfect. I'm the luckiest man in the world." Greg breathed, worshipping the phoenix with all of his being. He pulled out, nuzzling his cock against Lumi's lower lips the way he knew the bird loved, dipping just the head inside with slow, slick movements. Golden lips pulled at his shaft in the lewdest way, puffing up under his gentle care.

Lumi's panting gaze settled on Greg's cock, and a trickle of drool rolled down his beak. "Can I taste it?" Greg hadn't felt comfortable placing his cock in Lumi's beak, fearing it would be too sharp, but the need shining in his gorgeous lover's eyes changed his mind. It couldn't hurt to try something new.

Greg nodded, and the shivering bird slid completely from his shaft, that gentle beak pressing kisses along his glistening chest, meandering over his nipple with a silky tongue before lowering himself further. The bouncing human cock looked positively perverse pressed against Lumi's beak, and Greg slid down to sit on the edge of the bed, his legs shaking, while that talented tongue swirled over his cockhead.

Lumi was slow, worshipful, and gentle as if he were making love to Greg's cock, and the human wondered why he was even worried in the first place. The pointed tip of Lumi's beak teased along the top of his shaft, and the gentle press sent a thrill through his body as hot, wet warmth surrounded his tip. Gods, this was even better than Fucking him. Pretty crimson eyes staring up at him, and the gentle caress of feathered fingers on his balls drew a heavy gush of pre into the phoenix's talented mouth.

Gently, Greg cupped his lover's cheek, rubbing over the downy feathers he found there and gently encouraging him further down his shaft. "You're even more beautiful right now." He gushed, lapsing into a stream of dreamy compliments while the bird pleasured him. It was always impossible for him to keep his head when Luminos got him going, and it felt as if he were floating on a cloud of gentle pleasure.

Exploring every inch of Greg's cock with that impossibly slick tongue, Lumi endeavored to find every sensitive spot. His efforts grew juicier with each lapping tease until finally, he pulled off, rubbing the head against his beak. Feathery fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking him firmly, and the human felt his stomach coiling into knots.

Jets of seed erupted from his tip, painting the phoenix's face with thick ropes of pearly seed. The sight of the phoenix's half-lidded eyes and his flaring nostrils taking in Greg's masculine scent pushed his orgasm to new heights, and by the time the final drops gently oozed from his tip, caught by that talented tongue, his chest heaved with effort. Pretty feathers, matted with seed, were even more beautiful, and Greg felt his softening shaft twitch while watching him clean the drooling tip.

Lumi stood, and his beak trapped Greg's lips in a sticky kiss, sharing his taste. A new sensation graced the human's body, and he realized that Lumi had slickened a finger with some of the seed staining his feathers to penetrate him. "Why should you get all the fun?" The bird teased, and Greg felt him pull the human's muscled ass forward, his silky slit rubbing along the cleft of Greg's ass.

Greg blushed. Of course, he knew that his pretty bird was a male, but he'd never really thought about the mechanics of his anatomy. Slick and insistent, those puffy lips ground against his virgin hole until Greg felt a rush of sticky wetness coating his ass. Warmth spreading against his hole felt deliciously different, and as the bird worked avian seed into his hole with patient fingers, he wished that Lumi had more conventional anatomy. Perhaps Brigirth or Durz could craft something to give him a similar experience to taking a cock.

They lay there on their shared bed, with Greg's legs wrapped around Lumi's waist and feathered fingers buried deep inside Greg's hole. "Feeling better now?" The phoenix teased, licking at his favorite human's neck.

Greg luxuriated in Lumi's embrace, strong arms keeping him close. "You're a true miracle worker. What would I do without you?" He drowned his worries in the phoenix's warmth, and after a few minutes of cuddling, they began to move once again, and the night faded away into sticky, heated pleasure.

A few days later, Greg's worst nightmare came true. He awoke to the sound of metal on metal and the smell of smoke. Throwing on his armor and grabbing his longsword, his heart pounding in his ears, he rushed from his home. Fires raged in the trees around the city, and knights in ornate armor had overrun the streets.

He wasn't too late. None of the bodies littering the streets wore Brigirth's armor, though he could see injuries among many of his friends. Throwing himself into the nearest melee, he struck with practiced ease, his sword finding gaps in Prilian armor and cleaving limbs from bodies.

How dare they attack his home. How dare they disturb his peaceful life. The life he'd spent so long building, the life he'd chosen over his birthright. Prilia would pay. He wouldn't stop until every soldier lay slain beneath him.

"You know, 'Daddy,' you'd be able to fight better if you'd use a weapon." Durz waded through a sea of swords, sweeping swings of his ax rending armor and leaving wide gashes. An amused grin spread across his face as a sword left a shallow scratch across his pec. The sting made him feel alive, though it couldn't compare to the thrill of a huge cock in his hole.

Ruri's fists dented armor and smashed in soldiers' faces, the force of every punch sending frail human bodies flying. "Hah. Real men use their fists. You'd know if you tried it." A gurgling scream died against his knuckles, and a soldier fell backward, missing most of his teeth with a face so disfigured that even his mother wouldn't be able to identify him. Muscles glistened in the light, and Durz felt the urge to lick the sweat from his father's chest.

When all of the soldiers had fallen, Durz mashed his tusks against his father's, their thick green lips working against each other in a deep, sensual kiss. "Fuck, Daddy. After this is over, I need you inside me." He breathed, squeezing Ruri's heavy balls. It took all of his strength to stop himself from dropping to his knees to suck his glorious pierced cock. Pleasure could wait. First, they needed to drive back the rest and make sure their friends were safe.

With the thrill of battle pumping through their veins, the two half-naked orcs roared and threw themselves on another cluster of soldiers, sneaking gropes and greedy kisses amid the chaos.

They weren't taking Buck from him. Not again. Not ever. Grom fought like a raging storm, his blade crackling with electricity. Wounds across his arms streaked him with blood, but he felt nothing but the white-hot rage coursing through him.

"Why don't you give up?" The sneering knight in front of Grom was the bulkiest human the mercenary had ever seen. His size rivaled Hugh's, and corded muscles bulged on his neck. His greatsword's blows shook the ground and sent numbness through Grom's arms when he attempted to block. Alongside his men, he pressured the mercenary, forcing him back towards the cave where he'd hurried his crippled love.

"When you have something to fight for, giving up isn't an option." Grom stumbled, but his sword remained pointed at the enemy. Though his arm was growing tired, he knew that if he let even one of the soldiers though, Buck and the others sheltering in the cave would be in danger. He wouldn't allow that. They'd have to kill him first.

"No skin off my back. I hope whatever you're dying for is worth it." The giant of a man broke through Grom's weakening guard, raising his sword above his head to strike the final blow. Grom couldn't regain his footing in time, and he watched the sword's arc in horror.

"Eat shit, dude!" A familiar voice rang out, and the sound of glass shattering interrupted the knight's swing. Flames erupted from alcoholic fumes, the knight's triumphant grin twisted, and a high-pitched scream better suited to a young girl erupted from his burning lips.

An unlikely hero stepped forward. Treant, both hands filled with bottles of spirits with flaming rags sprouting from their necks and a sober expression never seen before across his face, rained down hell on the knights, setting their armor alight. "You fucked up my good time." Crash. "You attacked my friends." Crash. "And worst of all, you're wasting. My. Goddamn. Booze." Crash.

Grom's jaw dropped. Single-handedly, the satyr had just killed half a dozen guards with nothing but bottles of alcohol. He felt worthless by comparison, and as the satyr stepped through the screaming soldiers, he could only pant softly, struggling to stand.

A companionable hand pulled him to his feet, and the satyr patted him on the back. "You did good, dude. Check on Buck. I've got more bottles and some anger issues to work through." Grom didn't doubt it, and he pitied anyone that entered the satyr's range. The smoldering proof of his aim was still twitching by their feet.

Russell needed him to be strong. Hugh wanted to run and hide, but all around, his friends were laying down their lives, and he wouldn't let them die for him. The sickening crunch of armor under his fists turned his stomach, and the blood staining his fur (None of which was his) stung his nose with metallic intensity.

Tears streamed down his face, at odds with the fury shown in his skull-crushing punches. Why? Why couldn't he be left alone? Why did the humans have to tear everything out from under him whenever he found a shred of happiness? What had he ever done?

Before Russell found him in that dank dungeon, he lived with his mother in a small forest, much like Lopestown's. They grew their food and never hurt anyone, never even ate meat. Then bandits came and murdered his mother in front of him, cut out his vocal cords, and blinded one of his eyes. And then the torture began. Blades dragged across his skin, stinging with fluids from the sadistic bandits' disgusting members. Tossing him in the dark to rot almost brought the minotaur relief.

He'd given up on living a good life until that sweet human boy freed him, gave him a purpose, and made him something more than just a tortured beast cringing away from the light. And now, the home he'd worked so hard to build was burning. His life was burning. Despair coiled in his silent throat, and he lost himself to the cathartic pounding of bone and flesh under his fists.

Nimei's efforts were bearing fruit. Alongside his novice mages, he pressured the army, preventing their archers and magic users from raining down further destruction on their city.

Silver threads of searing heat weaved between shards of ice, streaks of electricity, and glowing red fireballs, impacting on hastily erected magical shields. The shimmering barriers visibly weakened, and Nimei signaled his students to double their efforts.

Below him, Peak and his brothers in exile fought tooth and nail to protect them, pikes, spears, and tails brandished. Nimei's heart ached at images of Peak dying for him racing through his brain, but he had to focus. If he failed, projectiles would make quick work of his unprepared friends.

His heart stopped as he realized that the enemy mages had begun to chant in unison. He recognized cooperative magic, and Nimei was well aware of its destructive power. Shoufey's mages had broken through his home's defenses using similar magic. His mage brothers and sisters had been helpless before the carnage it wrought.

A droning buzz filled the skies, and Nimei felt arms grip his waist, pulling him into the air. "Let us help you. We will protect our home. Tell us what you need." The niix swarmed behind Nimei, their stingers quivering in anger.

He knew what he had to do. If they finished their chant, he would lose everything again. He couldn't let that happen. Wishing he could say goodbye to Peak, just in case, he directed his unconventional mount to the cluster of spellcasters, dropping in their midst on light feet.

Mercy wasn't an option. Silver threads twisted through the air, wrapping around unsuspecting necks and tightening with sizzling sears. Chanted words faded into gurgling screams, but Nimei didn't stop until his flaming threads cut through exposed throats, silencing the mages forever. Sickening thuds broke the silence their chanting left as their heads rolled to the forest floor.

The kitsune felt ill, and severed heads' bulging eyes stared up at him, searing themselves into his memory. Struggling with what he'd just done, he fell to his knees, trembling softly. Was he any better than the Prilians? Did he deserve peace if this was the method that brought it about?

The whistle of an arrow, followed by a meaty thunk, shook Nimei from his horrified stupor. Yellow and black stripes filled his vision, and one of the Niix fell with his chest pierced, pale yellow fluid leaking from its mandibles. Another Niix engaged the archer, and Nimei was left, leaning over the dying wasp with shaking hands.

Why had he sacrificed himself for Nimei? He tried desperately to staunch the bleeding, but the wasp's shaking hand stopped him, squeezing his palm gently. As if he knew the kitsune's guilt, he took a shuddering breath and spoke. "We are replaceable. As long as one of us is still alive, the hive lives on. You are not. You are special. You helped us when we couldn't help ourselves, gave us a home, and introduced us to a world we wouldn't dare imagine. We would die hundreds of deaths for you."

As the wasp's eyes glazed with the pallor of death, Nimei's vision blurred with tears. He couldn't let the Niix's sacrifices be in vain. He would fight. Protecting their home was the least he could do.

Ko couldn't breathe. Smoke billowed inside of the infirmary, but he refused to leave. His patients needed him. Desperate arms gathered as many as he could carry, and he dragged them from their beds, ignoring the pain in his scorched body. He would rest when everyone was safe.

Flames were growing higher when he cleared the first floor, and as he started up the stairs, he could hear timber crashing down from the ceiling. "Not yet. Please." He prayed to whoever was listening, gathering his last patient to his chest and shielding their coughing face as best he could from the heat around him.

Stairs collapsed with a crash, and he was trapped. Desperate purple eyes searched for a solution, lighting on a window. Slowly, he dragged himself to the glass. A trembling elbow broke the panes, and weakening hands pushed his limp charge through. He could only hope that they would land softly in his garden. Someone would protect his patients. He had faith in all of his competent friends.

Flames licked at Ko's legs, searing his fur from his flesh, but he couldn't lift himself past the windowsill. Darkness ate away at his vision, but he had no regrets. He'd loved his time in Lopestown and treasured every person he grew to know. Wishing for their happiness, he let the flames consume him, his last thoughts happy memories shared among good friends.