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Code of Dishonor: Front Lines Written by Leo_Todrius Commissioned by Cidius

The sound of clashing metal, crackling fires, shifting ice and the screams of the many echoed out through the castle grounds. War had fallen on the castle of Dunbrune. One by one the mage knights of King Balan had been picked off, corrupted and turned against their own kingdom. The skies were patrolled by Eclipse and Silver Wing, the rivers turned against the humans by Ice Horn and Neptos and the land was a sea of beastly demons corrupting those they came against.

In an effort to thwart the beast lord, the king had commissioned the finest craftsmen to forge armor impervious to magic... but the corruption of iron hoof, a former blacksmith, had given the beast lord all he needed to know to bypass the king's advantage. Young men bravely fought, expecting to die in defense of their country... but something far different was happening.

Stone Fangs cut through the enemy forces seamlessly, using his poison magic before biting them. The young men grunted sharply as the venom pumped through their bodies, their skin hardening into scales as their legs grew together, wriggling out into long snake tails behind them. Their eyes hazed over with lust as they turned on their fellow compatriots, fucking and biting and coiling those that dared to oppose the beast lord.

The advancing armies made it through the outer defenses, Razor Claw unearthing hidden aqueducts into the castle while Salamand set the wooden doors ablaze, burning them apart to reveal only stone archways. What had started in one small village on a mountain side had spread to the heart of the kingdom and those that defended it were falling away... but to the old eyes of one of the country's longest defenders, the battle for existence was most certainly cause enough to put one's life and soul on the line.

Leoric had always been resolute, supporting the king even before the mage knights had become the pinnacle of the Dunbrunian military. He had been late to bloom into his own magical ability but when that power awoke in him, it was fierce. It was also a most uncommon kind of magic - magic of brute force. Leoric strode forward out of the castle, knowing he was stepping onto the front lines of the greatest war he would see in his lifetime. The sun fell across him and the eyes of the advancing troops turned, pausing for a split second to analyze the newest threat to them.... And Leoric was somewhat of an imposing figure.

Standing at six feet and five inches tall, Leoric's shoulders were broad and his chest was thick with muscle. He lived his life in labor for king and country and his magic had only enhanced that. His hair was as red as the sun at sunset, a finely trimmed beard hugging his jaw line while a neat and tidy mustache covered his upper lip. Leoric was in his late forties, seasoned but vital all the same.

While the kingdom of Dunbrune utilized the symbol of a ram in honor of the creatures native to its many mountains, Leoric's red tunic had the crest of a lion emblazoned on his left pectoral, strapped on as a single piece of metal plate. Leoric's red shirt and black pants were not regulation uniform. He'd always been a man apart. His loyalties were to the king and he had no patience for Terras' academy. Leoric had one skill and he intended to use it to his best effort.

The grizzled veteran moved out onto the field, his fists tightening up as faintly orange eyes sized up those before him. A swarm of nagas wriggled across the ground in a clustered attack but Leoric took one swing and impacted skull, sending the swarm colliding into each other, the knotted mass hitting a wall near by with enough impact for dust to settle out of the seams. The sound of heads clattering gained Stone Fangs' attention. The general turned, striding toward Leoric on strong scaly legs, talons digging into the ground as his tail swept behind him. Stone Fangs lifted his clawed hands, purple light swimming around his fingers as he cast a spell. The energy sunk into Leoric, intending to make him weak and unsteady... but Leoric was unphased. He moved forward with shocking speed, grabbing Stone Fangs before he could react, tossing him with all his might. The magic in Leoric's blood took affect and Stone Fangs arched through the air, landing in a heap back near the entrance. Leoric gritted his teeth before moving toward his next target.

More and more naga fell to the wayside as Leoric moved, heading toward the general that was inflicting the most damage - Salamand. The red and white scaled lizard man felt the ground tremble before he looked up, narrowly missing a punch aimed right at his head. Salamand tried to move around Leoric, to get behind him but the man grabbed the tail whipping around, getting a firm grip. He lowered his center of gravity, turned and released. Salamand was ripped off his feet, flung around in a semi-circle and ultimately released. The dragon flew upwards, hitting the castle walls. He tried to dig his claws in for a grip but failed, sliding down steadily.

From his vantage point on the bow of the pirate ship run aground on the castle steps, the beast lord watched the man continue to decimate his forces. The beast lord had sunk so many months of planning into laying out the Dunbrunian forces and it was one man stopping him... but what a man. The beast lord could feel his strength, his vigor, his resolve. It took a lot to have that kind of devotion, and the beast lord wanted that devotion for himself. The demon lifted his hands and began to cast a spell of remembrance, pushing it out into the castle grounds, letting it wash over Leoric.

The man stumbled where he stood, grunting softly as he looked around. In his eyes, the castle grounds seemed newer, fresher, less in need of repair. The bodies of the battlefield fell away, replaced by students and scholars learning the ways of the cultured world... before even the magic schools had opened. Leoric hadn't felt so young in years, but there he was facing his own youth and vitality, a man of eighteen with nothing but a shock of red hair and a fine mustache... He was the new kid at the castle, pledging his loyalty to the new king that was no older than he... but it would be a life led in common purpose, the betterment of their home.

The memory shattered around Leoric, plunging him back into the front lines. The memory had been so peaceful that Leoric had let his defenses down, something that proved to be a tragic mistake when the moment ended. Not only did he see the changes souls, the damage and the destruction... but a kingdom where King Balan had failed. The society had stratified, putting those with magical abilities ahead and above those without. The highest education came only to those who could conduct themselves with magic. Leoric resented it, his king, the whole of it all... and that had been the beast lord's hope.

"We could make this kingdom great again..." the voice whispered in Leoric's ear. Leoric looked around, hands at the ready to pummel anything that moved... but there was no one near him. Nagas were squirming away while creatures of other sorts prepared to regroup. Leoric grit his teeth.

"More magic... More sorcery and evil." Leoric spat.

"You only hate magic because it is not given freely, but that is something that can change. Every human has the capacity for magic; they just aren't all born with it. Can you imagine a country enriched by everyone having the choice? The ability to take magic if they want?" the voice asked. Leoric panted softly.

"Magic is no cure to a society's ills, the king proved that." Leoric murmured.

"Then show him the right path, show him how you will fight for a better way, a better future for your kingdom. Fight with all the strength of your soul, be the king of the lands... and get your point across. Seize that strength inside you and share it. Can't you feel it? I can feel it... Leos..." The beast lord whispered. Leoric suddenly shuddered, his muscles twitching and flexing. His arms grew tight as the muscles began to bulge, spreading the blue sleeves of his shirt wide while his red shirt stretched. The man began to sweat softly, feeling even his forehead ridge starting to swell and spread, changing his facial features.

"No, not like this..." Leoric murmured, summoning all the strength he had to fight of the curse just like he'd stopped Stone Fang's poison, but the more strength he asserted, the faster the change took place. Leoric's shirt suddenly tore, broad freckled shoulders emerging from the torn neck hole. His arms began to stretch and grow, his legs stretching and widening. Leoric's pants grew heavy as well as his package swelled slowly even without attention. Leoric lifted his head and roared toward the heavens.

"Exactly like this, the warrior to return your kingdom to a better way, as fierce as a lion." The beast lord whispered. The words echoed in Leoric's soul as he roared again, his teeth growing sharp. His neat, perfectly trimmed mustache began growing out, dropping over his lips while the chin hair began to stretch out at a much faster rate. His chinstrap beard became a chin curtain, spreading down and outward with impressive speed. It grew out in waves down toward his collar bone, but so too did his hair grow. The perfectly maintained haircut was lost as a mane of red hair grew down the back of his neck and around his cheeks, his beard and hair meshing together in a thick, wild mess.

The growth of such hair and beard was overwhelming to Leoric and in all the wrong ways. He felt so strong, so sexy, so manly and he couldn't fight it. Even his arm and leg hair thickened, a forest of fur covering his chest. He panted hard, looking down, seeing how thick the hair was on the back of his arms. It stuck out in a furry matte that would have looked beastly on any human, but it was only the start.

The veteran's grizzled skin began to shift, the pores wriggling as more and more hair pushed out of his skin. While the back of his arms remained red, a lighter carrot orange color began to coat the underside of his arms, the hair on his shoulders and his legs. Leoric's pants tore more and more, his legs bulging animalistically. Leoric struggled a bit, trying not to lose himself. He let out another roar of fury before impacting the wall with his fist... knocking an impressive hole through the ancient stones.

The pain gave the warrior a faint glimpse of his old life, but it was already tainted. Seeing that his strength had become even more impressive, he felt a pride and glee that was not his own. He WAS the strongest man around, he was as strong as a beast, strong enough to push the world back on course... or at least the course he thought it should be on.

Leoric grinned, loving the strength and the pride. His chest rose and fell as he embraced it more and more. The shirt continued to split down his chest before the fabric fell apart, the lion medallion hanging from his shoulder. Leoric's exposed chest had changed completely, covered in soft white fur, fading into orange on his shoulders and chest. Leoric rested his hand against the remnants of the wall, watching as his fingernails grew thick, grew out, curving and sharpening. The claws dug into the wall, cutting the stone without so much as an ounce of pressure.

The warrior's chest rose and fell as he panted, coming to accept his new fate... and with it, the beast lord could feel that the enemy threat was no more. He stepped up onto the side of Neptos' ship, pushed off and glided down with his mighty wings, his talons digging into the soil of the courtyard as he strode in. The generals soon fell into line, coming in behind the beast lord, watching their leader. Salamand and Duron wanted to be in the lead, to protect their master, but they knew that he had no need to fear anything. As far as Dunbrune was concerned, he was invincible.

The advancing guard made their way through the castle itself, now empty. The servants, the apprentices, they had all been sent out through secret tunnels to escape... but that was no place for a king. The beast lord moved up to the throne room, held out his hand and the doors opened themselves, bursting the timbers meant to hold the door in place. The beast lord's fur rippled as his horns shined, wind and sun casting through the narrow windows of the throne room... and standing before his throne was the king, King Balan.

Balan was taller and broader shouldered than most, though still dwarfed by the man Leoric had been. The king's eyes had lost their vigor, his strength was failing. Worry and despair had eroded everything he had. Balan looked at the intruders, at their demonic natures while his fingers grazed the royal seal holding his cape on. The carefully forged metal shape of a ram's head on two axe blades had become a familiar feel to the king ever worried about his kingdom.

"Surely King Balan, there is no need to stand on ceremonies... Sit." The beast lord said. A gust of wind built, hitting the king to knock him backwards. As the man fell onto his throne, the beast lord's hands moved again. The very metal of the chair warped and shifted, bending and curling around his wrists, locking them in place. Balan tried to stand but the legs of the chair splintered, some of the mass remaining to support his weight while the rest locked around his ankles. The king had become a prisoner of his own throne.

"You are the one that caused all of this darkness? The mystery of Jabin, the scourge of Invess, the dark one?" The king growled under his breath, his loose bangs blowing out of the way of his lips as he spoke.

"I prefer the beast lord." The demon replied.

"That is but a title, what is your name?" The king asked. The beast lord chuckled.

"You... are rather clever, king... You seek the oldest magic of all. To know someone's true name is to have power over them, its very potent stuff." The beast lord smirked, "And that is why you get no more than my title... But you, king Balan, I think I know your true name." The beast lord said, starting to circle the king.

"Everyone knows my true name, I hide it from no one." Balan replied. The beast lord slowly shook his head.

"Now that isn't quite true, at least in my experience. You see... Humans aren't as connected with themselves as they once were. You are so wrapped up in feudal affairs, surnames, castes and careers... You've all forgotten how things used to be and so few of you know your true names. For instance... My first two followers." The beast lord said, holding his hand up.

"Duron and Ragnus..." Balan whispered, "I've read the reports."

"But those weren't their true names. By discovering what they were actually called, they were freed to be more than they ever could have been as humans. With Stone Fangs and Salamand, I gained control of the ground in your kingdom... and I only grew stronger by adding Razor Claw to my ranks." The beast lord explained. Balan looked over and saw the tiger, recognizing the face. He recognized almost all of their faces... and it scared him.

"Terras..." Balan whispered.

"Do you know another old magic, king? Magic that applies to you in particular?" The beast lord asked, coming to a stop, standing in front of the king, "A monarch is a reflection of his people... Those he commands and those he rules. Through your troops, I gained control of your land first... which means I gained control of you." The beast lord said.

Balan grunted suddenly, feeling the lower half of his body tighten. His tailored pants grew tight, the fabric straining. As the material pulled, bristly grey hairs began to push out. Balan was disgusted and shocked, but the reality broke through just as his legs did. The material split out and the king could see his skin grow leathery and tough, wiry grey fur growing out up and down the length of them. As the hair continued to grow, his leathery skin disappeared beneath... but his muscles didn't. His calves, his thighs, every muscle shifted and contorted, growing and becoming stronger.

The others murmured and moaned, watching their king undergo the same change they did. Soon the king's shoes grew too tight, the material popping and snapping, leather stretching as strapping fell away. Balan yelped, watching his toes contort as the flesh between them grew together and his toenails stretched out into hideous masses. The keratin shifted, coating his feet with tips of bone. The feet continued to warp, becoming ever less human until they were the cloven hooves of beasts.

"But controlling the ground wasn't enough... I needed to be above others, to have that tactical advantage. With Eclipse and Silver Wing, I gained possession of your skies." The beast lord said. Once more Balan called out, feeling the changes sweeping over him. His shirt sleeves grew painfully tight, constricting him like a vice before the fabric split out and his arms bulged monstrously large in places. Muscles he hadn't worked in decades refined and grew, but the hair on his arms turned course and thick, losing all color, becoming as beastly gray as his legs.

"Stop this, you have no power over me... I believe in a higher... authority..." The king moaned and grunted. The beast lord grinned at that, leaning in.

"The power of a deity? Of a voice above? That might have protected you if you didn't give up the protection... King Balan, your gave your heart away... as well." The beast lord whispered.

Balan's eyes widened as he looked around the room with stark terror before he spotted Ice Horn... Even with faintly blue fur and horns, he had the face of Carlo, the king's consort... the ice mage he had loved for so many years. Balan's heart broke, but it filled his chest with fire. His back arched and he called out as a thick pelt of gray fur and flesh erupted through his shirt, the material tearing and ripping out. Balan panted and grunted and growled as the fur swept around his ribs and back, climbing up a ladder of abdominal muscles, swirling along his spine before the fur connected to his shoulders. Everything from his neck down was covered in fur and the bare scraps of clothing. Only his cape remained, held on by the royal crest.

"I... I will never give into you, I will outlast you." Balan whispered. The beast lord leaned in slowly, licking the king's cheek.

"But with Leos, you already gave me your strength. But I am a fair demon, you are welcome to it as well." The beast lord smiled. The king's back arched once more as every muscle in his body tingled and burned. His furry gray flesh creaked as it stretched, his pecs and abs pushing out more, his arms and legs thickening once more. He had been perfectly fit before, but now it was something else. The gray fur thinned a bit, showing once more the flesh beneath... but the flesh wasn't perfect. There were scars, scrapes, signs of injuries healed over. They were Leoric's battle wounds but they made the king look far more fearsome. The king continued to grunt and squirm as his neck thickened, the straight up and down pillar of flesh flaring out into a wedge with sloping sides. The muscle seemed to invade his head, thickening all over his scalp. He panted, eyes defiant.

"You've taken everything but my mind... That you'll never get." Balan whispered, panting, drool escaping his lip from the sensation of his changing body. At that the beast lord laughed out loud, chortling.

"But Balan, we all know you were never the brains... The men you knew as Carlo and Terras, they did all the hard work. You... were just a beast that craved power, and I already possess your mind." Balan whispered. The words left his lips and Balan went stiff. He gazed ahead, not looking at anything in particular before his head started to bulge. The skin split and sleek ivory horns began to slide out of his skull, curving around and spiraling, pooling out at an intense rate. As the horns finally started to slow and settle, the bone itself cracked along the meridian of his head, small horn spikes emerging in pairs along the center. Balan's horns were heavy and large, seeming out of place before the back of his head thickened, his hair turning gray and growing into his fur, but the strangest change came as his ears stretched out into folded teardrop shapes, flicking about.

Drool continued to leak from the king's lips even as his skull stretched out, his jaw lengthening and his teeth flattening. His nose rounded and kept up with his lower lip, the nostrils stretching into slits... and as the face grew, grey fur pushed out across it all, circling the forming muzzle and moving up around his eyes. The fur covered his skull, growing over the last of the human flesh until nothing was left.

The gathered generals gazed at the king for a long moment, seeing the powerful and grizzled ram he had become... covered with the scars of his people, filled with the strength and desire of those that had served him. His eyes slowly cleared and he looked up at the beast lord before slowly licking his lips. His fur shifted as his sheath gave way to a hard, wet cock sliding out of its protective space... six inches, eight, then twelve. The shaft bobbed between his legs, the ram held powerless to the beast lord's wishes.

"Let all those gathered..." The beast lord called out, his voice echoing through the royal chamber and the halls beyond, "Lay witness to the true king of Dunbrune... King Balam, the loyal." The beast lord announced.

"But are you not to be king?" Stone Fangs asked gently from where he stood. The beast lord smirked gently.

"I aspire to rule all the lands, not just this one. I am not a king but a lord. King Balan will look after the kingdom of Dunbrune, enlightened to the ways of the animal kingdom. He will benevolently offer our life and existence to all of the citizens of his lands, turning the young men and women into true beasts like us. The kingdom will grow strong, but it is not time for me to rest. There are nine other kingdoms for me to visit, to impart my gifts upon. My work has only begun." The beast lord grinned wide.

"What of us, my lord?" Ice Horn asked, his breath steaming on the air despite the mild temperature around him.

"Some of you will stay in Dunbrune, help with the transition... but others will travel with me to the new lands and help in the conversion. Iron Hoof, Razor Claw, Leos; I will need your abilities building a new vessel for Neptos, a superior vessel." The beast lord decreed.

"Of course, our lord." The massive bull replied before turning, the bearded lion and tiger following after him.

"Eclipse, Silver Wing, you must travel to the farthest reaches of Dunbrune, patrol the borders of the other kingdoms, keep watch for what happens." The beast lord added. Eclipse gave a nod before his demonic form melted into the shadows, disappearing from sight. Silver Wing climbed into the window, pushed off and soared out over the lands.

"What of the us, our lord?" Ice Horn asked. The beast lord grinned gently at that.

"It was not merely the miners that awoke me from my slumber, it was the heat of the passion that you shared with the king. His former ties are broken, vows made by man. He is free to you now..." The beast lord said, waving his hand. The throne groaned and buckled back into place, the metal bindings releasing the trapped ram.

The muscled beast stumbled to his feet, snorting through his muzzle, panting and then groaning. Ice Horn looked at his former master with human eyes, wondering who had wound up with the better fate... he, who resembled his former life, or Balam who had a new life to start. Regardless, the two had never been closer. No longer were they separated by station or even species. Ice Horn moved forward, bringing his lips to the king's muzzle, the two rams kissing deeply.

Balam didn't resist in the slightest, his tongue wrestling with Ice Horn's easily. Their kisses were lewd, wet and wild. Saliva dribbled from their lips until the king grabbed Ice Horn and threw him into the throne. Ice Horn grunted wide, gasping as the king grabbed his legs and spread them wide, lifting them up. The ice ram's tail quivered as his tail hole pulsed. It was all the beckoning Balam needed before he rammed his shaft into his mate.

Ice Horn bleated out, his back arching as the king slid in deep, spreading him wide. Balam grabbed onto Ice Horn's furry hips, holding him as he thrust back and forth relentlessly, leaning down to lick at his chest and then kiss him again. The two went at it without doubt, hesitation or shame at doing it so publically... but there was no judgment, only joy. They knew of the king's love for his consort, they felt the attraction of the two... and they felt it for each other.

The beast lord smiled, gesturing to the others to have fun and celebrate their victory. Stone Fangs met eyes with Salamand, the snake man moving over to the orange and white dragon. Salamand smiled a bit at his ally, but as Stone Fangs traced his claws down Salamand's scale covered arm, the two held back no longer. Their faces came together, human enough for the kiss to be intimate, easy and pure.

Over by the window, Neptos peered out at his old ship wrecked on the land before the castle. He'd never been land bound before in his life, not even as a young child. He let out a weary sigh before he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He turned to see the Beast Lord and smiled bashfully, lowering his head in respect.

"We did it my lord." Neptos said.

"We did, we accomplished a great thing here today... thanks to you and your crew." The beast lord said, "I only hope a new vessel will be a start to the thanks you deserve."

"I owe you my life for giving me such gifts, I shall serve you always." Neptos promised. The beast lord smiled at that.

"Your service is about to become a lot more important..." The beast lord murmured gently, his eyes drifting to the horizon beyond, "Tell me of your homeland... Tell me of Igladia."

****

If there was one way to perceive the country of Igladia, it could very well be that it was a nation of beaches with endless turquoise and teal ocean waters washing up on beaches of pristine white sand. If not that, then credit could be given to the kingdom for its awe inspiring domes of stone and glass and steel, massive buildings linked together by paths covered over with protection from the sun and occasional storms that came in from the sea. Igladia was a nation seated in tropical paradise, never wanting for fairer weather or more bounty from the sea. Even fresh water was plentiful from the snowy highlands and plateaus in the middle of the larger islands... but as impressive as the kingdom was as a whole, the capital city of Innis was all the more impressive.

A countless number of ships bobbed on the horizon, fishing and exploring, giving platform to divers and researchers and those that simply made their life on the waters. A few larger ships moved in and out of the V shaped bay, drifting to the many docks lining the sides of the bay... but coming in or out, it was impossible to ignore the largest dome in the Kingdom, situated at the focal point of the bay.

The dome was made of the finest glass and steel, both enchanted. The curved glass was covered with carefully and artfully crafted gold ivy leaves, casting the faintest of shadows into the chamber below. While the glass appeared clear to the outside world, a rainbow of colors danced across the sandstone floor, an eternal myriad of shades from the magic that protected the structure. The aurora was a compliment to the many fine things that filled the chamber, from globes and sextants to telescopes and ancient books.

It was from the largest telescope that a pair of teal eyes gazed out through the telescope, admiring the ocean and its beautiful shades, though the eyes saw the ocean imperfectly, assisted not only by the telescope but by the pair of oval glasses the man wore. He slowly stood upright, running a hand through his unruly blond hair. A slight jangle came from the chain he wore, leading down to a gold copy of the holy arc of light, a cross that was the emblem of the nation's religion. It was the same emblem sewn onto the shoulders of the blue button up shirt the man wore, and the same symbol on the bottom of the silver stole that rested around his neck and down either side of his chest.

The dome itself was a bit of an enigma. The items inside looked like they belonged to a scholar, the man was dressed as a religious figure, but he was neither... He was a king. His idle fascinations kept him happy, but it was his country that kept him occupied. The blond king moved down the wrought iron black steps from his telescope's perch, walking toward the doors that led out to his throne room, but as he moved there was something nagging at the edge of his vision. He stopped and turned, his eyes scanning the room. After several moments the door opened, a read headed woman a foot shorter than the king entering.

"King Asmos, I have... news." She said softly.

"Emaldine, if it is important you can merely tell me the news without a primer." Asmos replied, wandering past scrolls and parchment, hearing a faint pulsing sound.

"The news comes from Dunbrune." Emaldine replied. Asmos shuddered slightly.

"That uncivilized wasteland? Are they still perplexed by the pirates they claim come from our lands?" Asmos asked, coming to a stop, starting to sift through the piles of papers. He began to uncover a globe, a faint pearl colored light shimmering inside.

"It isn't that, it is the story of traders and bards, they say that a darkness has spread over the land, that the people are devolving into beasts." The woman explained... but her words fell on deaf ears. Asmos gazed at the globe, watching the kingdom of Dunbrune turn from a soft red to a dark purple and then a deep black, the color becoming inkier and thicker.

"The darkest magics in the world are gathered in Dunbrune, and they grow stronger..." Asmos whispered.

"What are we to do, your highness?" Emaldine whispered.

"The navy will prepare a defensive line, the heralds of light will begin to prepare the people at once. They must all be prepared for the coming darkness... for the dark one that will come to challenge us." Asmos said, leaving the globe. He crossed the room and came up to a dais upon which a book rested, bound in white leather. Asmos slowly opened the book and began to trace his finger through it. Emaldine said nothing, knowing what the book was. It was the core of their religion, the holy script... the Code of Honor.