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15th of Maius, 8thyear of Emperor Festavius

_ We march, and He leads our way. It has been two months since our convoy left the safety of the capital on its mission to the far north. We have lost troops along the way but those that remain are still determined to follow Him no matter the outcome. Our convoy is a skeletal crew at best, perhaps two hundred legionnaires, several wagons and perhaps two dozen cavalry. My lord, Severus, has made the most of what he was given but I can see in his eyes that he has begun to understand that this mission was not assigned to him because of his worth, but rather the danger he poses. The haunted moors of the northern Empire do little to help the morale of the troops, and rumours of barbarian forces massing in the woods, which have enveloped us for the better part of a week, continue to grow. These trees are strange, I have not seen their like since I was a kit and they worry me. They ooze bitter ichor, as though bleeding from our mere presence and I fear some warlock has made to bedevil our small entourage; we shall not falter, however, Severus will not allow it and I shall follow his commands to the letter. I hear him returning now, he will be troubled as he has been since we first entered this accursed blight of a forest._

_ _ "Ionius"

"Yes, Lord Severus?" I answer quickly; I've been well-trained from years as a slave to know that promptness was a virtue for those with nothing better to offer their superiors.

"Quit your infernal scribbling and prepare the bed. The march today was hard and I fear tomorrow's will be no easier. I need you rested."

I can feel the candlelight dancing across my face as I turn to face him, shadows reaching across the billowed canvas of our tent. Beyond stood the guards who had drawn first post for the evening and though I could not see them, I knew they could hear us speak; it was something one got used to when working as a personal attendant to someone as renowned as the Commander.

The nights were growing more frigid the further north we travelled and as I slip from my chair I can't help but shiver at the breeze that curls through the flaps of the relatively spacious tent. "You, tired?" I can't help the tease that sneaks from between my lips and immediately regret it. I can feel him standing behind me and as his paws slip over my shoulders- powerful even when relaxed- I can only shudder at the strength I knew resided within those muscles.

"You forget yourself, Ionius. Prepare the bed lest I have you sleep with the horses tonight." His voice is low yet I still feel as though I have been slapped. I hurry to fulfill his command. He towers over me, those paws releasing me almost regretfully as he turns to face me. The Commander is large, even for a soldier in the Empire's elite forces; a wolf, he stands over a foot taller than my relatively meagre 5'7" and every inch seems like a mile to my eyes. The shouting of guards in the small camp that surrounds his tent fills the night air, but neither he nor I pay attention. I prepare the bed quickly, skilfully; I have spent my life performing such tasks but it's different serving him, it seems less like a duty and more a privilege. As I finish I turn to face him again, the short white tunic I wear does little to hide the growing cock beneath its hem.

"Amazing" he states bluntly as he looks over the thickly bound tome I use to record our progress. "A foxen barbarian slave turned writer. What kinds of secrets have you recorded here, Ionius?" He's joking, I can see it in his face but I still find myself blushing. I know he can't read or write; few could. Only my time as a teacher in the service of some lesser lord in the capital had opened the door for my own literacy. It was this skill which had granted me this position as my Lord's servant.

"Nothing, sir. I am only reporting on our progress."

"And what progress have we made, Ionius?" He asks.

"I believe we are close to the border, my lord. Another week perhaps and we shall arrive at the border-forts." Silence follows, only the shadows moving as he looks over the words a final time, perhaps hoping they would morph into some form more meaningful to him.

"Excellent" he states at last, "perhaps we will survive the Legatus' attempt to remove me from the board after all." His words are muttered but I can still hear them clearly, my vulpine ears swivelling to catch them.

"My Lord, we don't know--"

"Hush Ionius, worry not. I am not so easily killed." He closes my tome and turns to move towards me, the light glinting off the bronze pauldrons he wears. The rest of the commander was nude, as were his troops; it was a tradition that stretched back centuries, when the first wolves began to forge what would become the world's largest empire. His cock is hard, inviting me to stare as he moves. Three gold rings around the base of his throbbing shaft signify his rank as much as the heavy pauldrons upon his shoulders. His cape had been removed when he'd first entered the tent, the red velvet draping across a chair near the entrance but even without it he carries himself with the regal grace of a trained warrior.

"I know, my Lord..."

"Then come." He speaks softly now, the pauldrons shed from his shoulders before he loops his paws around me and pulls me down into the bed. I snuff the candles and as darkness swallows our bodies, I feel his paws slide beneath my tunic to grip my eager cock.

Let the guards listen if they must, my Lord and I shall given them something to hear.

17th of Maius, 8thyear of Emperor Festavius

_ Lord Severus seems to grow more concerned with each passing mile. We have seen bands of barbarians in the woods; scouts no doubt. If they are following us this brazenly they must believe we are little threat, which means their numbers are greater than we had first feared. The troops are on edge and even I have been armed for the inevitable conflict. We are tasked with the delivery of the greenstone weaponry to the border forts, however, and though we know the coming fight bodes ill for us, we can not abandon this task. Lord Severus is no stranger to dire situations and I trust him to do what is best. In his days as a gladiator the Commander no doubt fought graver odds than what we currently face, and yet here he stands, a hero to the people and soldiers; Commander Octavious Severus Felineius, so named by the governor of the capital for his ability to survive any predicament. I pray to any gods who will listen that his namesake will hold true in the coming days._

My own writing is seared into my mind. The slow march through the frozen mud of the northlands is simply background noise to the three words that keep my chest tight, and head down; "the coming days". What would those days bring? My fist clenches tighter around the leather-bound haft of my weapon; the thin spike of green stone, rounded at the top to resemble a club or mace, seems almost brittle as I grip it. It was standard issue for the rank and file soldier, and with death hiding in the snow-topped trees that surrounded us I was no different.

"Slave, the Commander demands you attend him!" the short bark catches me by surprise as the voice's owner pulls on my shoulder from behind. "Be quick about it, fox" he adds, as though the surprise stalling my movements was somehow within my control. As I slip past him, not a word uttered for fear of reprisal, I hear him speak once more, calling after me even as I leave. "Remember, fox. Only thing those baby eatin' bastards in those woods hates more than us, is a traitor, like you!" I try not to think about it.

"My Lord." He is at the head of the column. Of all the roles the Commander had played in his life, of all the place he'd been, I imagine this one suits him the best. I walk quickly to keep pace with him, careful not to slip on the icy patches that fill the mud-ringed bootsteps of prior travellers.

"Quiet." His word is simple, quick, effective. "They'll attack soon. They've laid an ambush. The birds have been chased from this place, can you hear them?"

"No, My Lord"

"Ready the men. The fight comes." He has not stopped his march, even as he speaks; his eyes have not left the road in front of him. The march continues as I pull away from him, falling back to spread word to the lieutenants that they were to ready themselves. I'm only half-way to the rear of the column before the first shouts fill the crisp morning air, as though riding the indifferent sunbeams that bathe us in their ill-fitting warmth. The sound of clubs banging on shields follows; the woods are alive with it.

"Ready, men!" I can hear Severus shout from the front. His weapon is drawn. It's different than the others, a souvenir of his time as a gladiator, a reminder to himself of where he'd come from. The rudius he had received when he'd been freed from the arena shone brightly in the morning sun, sheathed in a layer of green stone which not only protected the wooden blade but made it a potent weapon as well. I have seen him fight before, and yet I still find it hard to look at him when battle is upon him. The lean simplicity of his muscles as they tense, the look in his eye and the fight on his mind; all of it made for a picture alien to me, alien to who he was when there was no combat to be had.

Foxes and badgers pour from the treeline, their crude weapons a pale mockery of our own. They mean to steal the shipment we have, to take our forged weapons to replace their own cobbled together remnants of greenstone; they don't have the knowledge or magicks necessary to create their own, so they must take ours. They wear little as they charge. Their fur is all the protection they need from the elements regardless of the dirt that mats it. We have only seconds before the first wave collides with the hastily formed shield wall that stands between us and them; more are coming.

"Hold them! Lock your shields! Keep them back! You! There! Form a second wall!" Severus' voice cuts through the din as I hurry to the relative safety of the carts, ostensibly to guard them. When I turn to face the line of lupine soldiers, their feet braced against the frozen earth and the mad gibbering of the barbarians pushing against their shields, I feel myself shudder. Severus stands firm, however, greenstone-rudius held high. "Now!" He cries as he lowers it swiftly, as though clubbing an invisible foe. The line breaks in the middle and I ready myself for the slaughter, but it is not we who fall. The shieldwall closes like a gate once more, leaving those who had surged through the seemingly broken defences trapped between two formations of very surly wolves.

Clubs meet flesh as the barbarians are cut down like meat, their bodies reacting to the touch of those green weapons with powerful orgasms and lewdly writhing jerks of their body. A young fox of perhaps twenty summers catches my wide eyes as a mace collides with his belly. He clutches the battered muscles of his gut with a shout of pain, doubling over even as a thick torrent of cum sprays onto the ground at his feet. The boy's pulsing cock sends another spurt across his belly as he falls backwards, hitting the muck with the sound of a steak being dropped to the floor. Another fox joins him, a weapon slamming into his chest sending him reeling on unsure feet as his bobbing cock fires out thick globs of his seed.

"Now!" Severus cries again, and again the wall breaks. Closer to me this time the wolves fall back, defences splintering and the barbarians all too happy to pour though; the fate of their tribesmen had clearly been missed in the chaotic skirmish. Like those before them the barbarians are surrounded quickly by the second line of soldiers and once again their cries echo amidst the crashing of weapons against shields. A badger, lumbering amongst the shorter foxes, falls to his knees as a greenstone-mace slams into the back of one of his knees, his cock beginning to spurt arcs of pre-cum almost immediately after the hit. A second strike floors the large male, sending his pulsing cum high into the air as a bellow of pleasure-filled horror reverberates deeply from his throat. He crashes into the muck like a ragdoll, a fox soon falling atop him even as he jets his cream into the mud-stained fur of his belly; we were winning! The onslaught was no match for the tactics of my Lord, and I could feel my muscles relaxing.

A fox nearly catches me off guard as he comes pounding across the muddy road. Somehow the slim boy had slunk out of the fray and had picked me out as an easy target. My mace comes up, deflecting the slightly curved club he wields. The curve of his weapon seems to almost hook my own, however, leaving me struggling to hold onto it. Exertion strains my muscles, I can feel my rigid cock throbbing in time to my racing heart.

"Lew!" the fox snarls at me. I remember my childhood well enough to know what he's calling me, and what they'll do to me if I fall here. I redouble my efforts, the stink of the unwashed barbarian curdling my blood as surely as the imminent threat his weapon posed. When he slips on an ice-frosted footprint in the road, I almost fall atop him as the pressure I'd been placing to hold his weapon away from me suddenly finds itself unopposed. He lands on his back, arms and legs splayed and the surprise on his face almost encouraging a sadistic grin to spread across my own. Despite the fatigue I already felt creeping into my muscles, I lift my weapon and bring it down hard on his belly. Spittle flies from his lips as his hips buck upwards, cum painting his chest and belly as he releases it all in a single streaming arc of pearlescent fluid. His body twitches as it collapses back into the muck, but I'm already stumbling away from the fray in case another foe should decide to attack me.

"They're coming from behind!" The shout goes up even as the sound of more barbarians crashing through the undergrowth behind us fills our ears; We'd been surrounded!

"Fall back!" I hear Severus cry, but it's too late. Those who can, turn to face the new enemy, but the heavy force of their bodies tear apart the new shield wall before it can be properly formed. Chaos erupts and I find myself in the middle of the melee, clubs waving in the air and bodies crashing to the ground in faux death even as their seed squirts liberally onto friend and foe alike. "Fall back!" Severus repeats; I do my best to obey. A wolf soldier nearly falls atop me as I make for the sound of my Lord's voice, his body battered by a series of quick strikes by a heavy-set badger, the tower shield the lupine used no match for the ferocity of the enraged male he fought. His sperm glistens in the sun as it pools in his navel, the wolf's head lolling and eyes glazed with an orgasmic bliss that would leave him paralyzed for hours.

Wolves begin to drop like flies and I'm helpless to stop any of it from happening. All I can do is save myself, and as I find myself breaking free from the heat of combat, I begin to believe I may do just that.

"Ionius, here!" a familiar voice cries out. Lord Severus is still standing, encircled by a ring of ferociously snarling wolves who held the vulpines and badgers at bay.

"The carts!" I call back, the shock of the experience creating a sort of tunnel-vision in my mind that seems focused on the fate of the weapons. As the wolves regrouped around Severus I turn to head in the opposite direction. The cavalry arrive as I reach the carts, their horses whinnying as they're turned sharply to face the barbarians milling amongst the few wolves left standing in the fray. Like thunder their hooves resonate in the shout-filled air, frozen mud torn from the ground by the weight of their bodies charging down the road.

"Lupus semper vincens!" they cry as they collide with the foxes and badgers. I can hear the result as I set the cart-horses running with a slash of my claws across their flanks; we would have to recover them later, but at least the barbarians would not have an easy victory! The rumbling wheels of the carts add to the din of battle as the cavalry run down any foe brave or foolish enough to resist them.

"Fall back!" Severus cries once more. Most of the surviving wolves had escaped the pincer and had regrouped. I hurry to join them, skirting along the edge and dodging a pair of foxes brazen enough to chase me. One meets a quick end as a wolf ducks in behind me and slams his weapon into the vulpine's kneecap. The poor fox barely has time to cry out before he faceplants into the frosted grass which edges the body-strewn road, unmoving. "Into the woods!"

The fight continues even as we withdraw. I sneak into the ring of wolves, using their bodies as shields as I follow close behind the Commander. Barbarians though they are, they have no trouble discerning who the important figure is in this formation. They throw themselves at us even as we retreat, green clubs slamming against stalwart shields and the green maces of the wolves lashing out in retaliation. I can see foxes fall in droves, breaking upon the walls of our roofless Infantry Square formation like water upon rocks. It's hard to miss the smell of cum on the air and I find my own clothes stink of it.

A wolf beside me falls, clutching his side as a fox climbs over the vanquished lupine before he'd even hit the ground; I react, thrusting my weapon forward to smash the lout in the muzzle. He can't even cry out as he climaxes, thick ropes of pungent seed flying through the air as he tumbles backwards, the gap in the formation quickly filled once more.

"Nicely done, Ionius" Severus says from beside me before he's once more dictating orders to his surviving troops.

We escape. The carts are almost out of view as well, and though we are weakened and disorganized, the barbarians chase the carts rather than us; it was the weapons they wanted. Our numbers have been thinned but still a little over one hundred and thirty wolves are still standing. As we vanish into the trees I can hear the cavalry disengage, reeling around to give chase to the carts as well, cutting down any barbarians between them and their goal. This day has been costly, and only a fool would think this was not just the beginning.

19th of Maius, 8thyear of Emperor Festavius

_ It has been two days since the battle on the road. We have taken refuge in an abandoned fort that had once held in check the very barbarians we now hide from. The men are weak, though the cavalry have returned safely. They brought with them two of the four carts, one bearing weapons and the other supplies. With that fortuity we find ourselves provisioned, though demoralized. The barbarians have followed us to the fort and taken up position in the treelines half a kilometre from our poorly maintained walls. We do not have enough men to provide full coverage of the ramparts, but we shall do what we can for as long as we must. The border forts will be expecting us within days, if we fail to appear they may send messengers and, Gods willing, scouts to find our tracks; it is not much of a hope, but it is a hope we must maintain. Lord Severus has sequestered himself in the administrative offices. Maps left by the fort's former occupants have provided more company for him than I have of late._

_ _ I look up as the door to my shadow-inked chamber opens. Severus stands before me, the adornments of his command missing and his body bare; even the cockrings were gone, though his shaft was still quite hard.

"Ionius" is all he says as he stumbles into the room, the smell of wine floating about his head. "We're fucked, you know" he adds, his matter of fact tone bearing no hint of self-pity or remorse; I wish it had so I could not take it so seriously.

"You've been in worse positions, my Lord."

"My Lord?" he spits out, "I am Octavius Severus Felineius, I am no Lord and you are no mere servant." His drunken gait nearly sends him into the soot-dusted mantle of the darkened hearth, his paw catching hold of the stone and holding him steady for a second. "And if we are fucked, my friend, let us be fucked in a more pleasurable way first." I can see the smile on his lips, his sullen eyes a stark contrast to it. I do not answer him in words, but rather in action. I step forward, catching hold of the larger male and guiding him towards the tattered hay-filled mattress I had scavenged. I help him onto it and quickly find my waist clinched by his powerful arms; pulled down into the bed beside him where his naked body grinds against my smaller form. Only my tunic keeps me modest but even that is quickly moved out of the way, my stiffening shaft bouncing as the wolf's paws glide over my body.

I still do not speak, I only react. My mouth closes around his own, sucking his tongue into my muzzle and using my own to wrestle it. The heat of his body, the smell of the wine and the feel of his paws on my growing cock serve to intoxicate my senses as thoroughly as the wine had his. I rut, as does he, my balls grinding against his thigh as my aching shaft fences with his larger member. His paws tighten their grip, holding me steady as he breaks my kiss only to plant a more forceful one right below my right eye, then my left, his wine breath washing over me as he explores my face with his lips.

"Now fuck me, Ionius. Fuck me before they fuck us both, yes?" He's muttering, his eyes closed and for the briefest of seconds I question whether he was speaking to me at all, or if merely assuring himself of what he intended to do. I oblige him as best I can. I curl my paw around his cock and begin to stroke it, pre-cum already welling at the tip and slickening his shaft for my fingers. He moans out only once when I start, his belly tensing up as I begin to speed up. My dick- still pressed against his own- aches at the feel of the warmth radiating from him. I stop once, only to slip my own shaft into my paw so I may pleasure both at once.

I continue like this for several minutes, no words shared between us unless one was to count the heavy breaths the puff from our muzzles. My tail is sliding across the bed as though possessed by a mind of its own, curling at the tip and wiggling fitfully as he I continue to ease my Lord's tensions. He rolls me over onto my back at one point, pressing the heavy weight of his body down atop me, forcing my back and naked ass down into the slightly scratchy softness of the mattress. I can't help but hold my breath when he does this, staring up at him as he looms over me drunkenly, eyeballing me as though I were one of those barbarians waiting in the nearby woods. It is not the first time hes looked at me like that after he'd indulged his thirst, and like the times before it, I find my heart beating quicker, my cock throbbing harder and my muscles tensing in anticipation of whatever he chose to do next.

There are no guards outside the door to hear us this time, all of them posted on the walls. There are no candles to light the room, only some makeshift torches that fill the air with the acrid smell of their light. There are no barbarians, no weapons, no battle and no sad endings; as he rolls me onto my belly, rising to his knees behind me to slide his dick along the base of my tail, there is only me... only him, and only now.

21st of Maius, 8thyear of Emperor Festavius

_ The barbarians have been raiding the walls for nearly twenty four hours straight now. They come at them in small groups, never enough to risk a sortie for but they come and club away at the mortar that holds the stones together. We hold them off with rocks, dropping them and scaring the bastards away before they can do any real damage. They never attack the same place twice, however. Severus believes they're testing the foundations, looking for weak points in the construction. It is nearly noon and we can hear them beating their drums in the distance, each thump like another hinge being driven into the shackles we would wear should they take us. I do not intend to allow them to take me alive._

_ _ "They're coming!" The shout comes from the ramparts and the simple words throw the rest of us into a frenzy. Wolvesbegin to take their positions, the fort coming to life as bodies move and run and climb and prepare. Severus is on the walls, I can see his cape and pauldrons clearly even from my position in the courtyard.

"Wait until they're in range. Prepare our surprise." He calls across to a trio of wolves near me. "Ionius, on the wall!" he adds, turning to watch the barbarians as they came from the woods in a flood of stinking fur and bestial howls. The three wolves waste no time in following Severus' orders, nor do I. As I climb the steps to the ramparts I can see them collecting the spare weapons we had recovered from the carts, though they wore heavy gloves as they did so; I could not see why.

As the barbarians approach I come to stand beside Lord Severus. He watches them come in silence, the wolves under his command equally stoic in the face of a fight they could not hope to win. Behind me the trio of gloved wolves climb the ramparts, spreading themselves out as they haul heavy bundles wrapped in sheepskin canvas.

"What're in the bundles?" I find myself asking.

"Never mind that, Ionius. Stay close to me when they break through the walls. Until then? Enjoy the show." He seems confident, or at least amused by something I was intently unaware of. "Release the weapons!"

The bundles are thrown over the edge of the walls, falling to the grass nearly thirty feet below us before breaking open and scattering their contents across the field. Greenstone weaponry, a lot of it! Maces forged in the fires of the capital lay glistening in the sun like some offering to the barbarian hordes.

"Lord Severus! They will not be dissuaded by the weapons now! They'll use them to take us as well!" For the first time in some time I can see anger towards me in Severus' eyes.

"Hush. Do not question me."

I look back down towards the weapons. As I had expected the barbarians made a line directly for the scattered treasures, their own clubs tossed aside as they raced one another to claim a forged mace first; treasure to be sure! It was only when the first fox picked up a weapon that I realized Severus' plan. The leather hafts had been stripped away from the weapons, leaving only bare greenstone in their place. The barbarians, in their hurry, had not stopped to notice that the very handles of their prizes were as dangerous as the flanged heads; dozens fall.

Cries echo in the air as droves of foxes and badgers clutch their wrists, eyes wide in horror as their bodies thrash and writhe where they stood. The power of the stone coursed through them, and within seconds they were cumming. Great gouts of barbarian seed pulsed and spurted across the grass of the field, bodies collapsing with the weapons still clutched in their paws. One fox tried to throw the weapon away but it was too late, his lean body heaving as he fell to his knees, his balls jostling before they began to empty themselves. His cum paints one of his tribesmen before he falls facedown into the grass to lay still like the others. A badger meets the same fate, his arms spreading out as though he'd been pierced by arrows. His broad ebony cock is put on display by the stance, semen bursting from it in a tidal wave of what could only be exquisite pleasure. The male falls like a log, feet kicking up as his brethren climb over his fallen form.

The loss of so many so quickly does little to deter the rush, however. The fallen are simply ignored by their tribesmen as they continue to charge forward. Several bodies are trampled by the wave of vulpine flesh washing towards us but I bear them little remorse. When the foe hit the walls they begin to chip and bash at the mortar as they had during the earlier raids, though now there were far more of them and the damage accumulates far quicker.

"Rocks!" Severus shouts. The wolves on the walls begin to drop stones atop the heads of the encroaching barbarians, bodies crumpling under the weight of the makeshift weapons but they still would not be deterred. A small group of badgers, their heavier weapons hefted above their heads as though they would protect them from the rocks, make for the gate and I follow their progress.

"Lord. The gates." I state bluntly, shame still reddening my face after questioning Severus' motives moments earlier. He does not turn to me this time but instead turns his attention to the gates, the rest of the horde ignored.

"Come." He states as he pivots to march down the stairs. The wolves watch him go and the nerves they no doubt felt were hidden behind a mask of blind obedience. A few threw a solemn salute to the Commander as he passes them but he does little but nod in return.

"They'll take the gate. That is not a question, simply an inevitability Ionius. We have no ranged weapons to stop them save our rocks, and you can see that does little but infuriate the survivors. Our only hope is to cut off the head. Knowing them he will come shortly after the gates fall. You are to take cover in the offices and remain there until this is over. Do what you must should we fail to hold them back." At least emotion cracks his gaze as he turns to me. "How long has it been since you came to me, Ionius?"

"Five years, sir."

"Five years"

"Yes, sir."

"Then its been ten since I was granted my freedom from the arena. And if you call me sir one more time, Ionius, I'll shackle and cook you myself."

"Yes si--" I catch myself, "Severus"

"Now go"

"Yes, Severus." I drag myself from his side, each step a monumental task undertaken with varying degrees of success. He helps me but not lingering, turning to head for the gate. I can hear the wood cracking even as I disappear into the shadows of the buildings, the rooms silent despite the tension that oozes in the air. Outside I can hear the shouts and battlecries and the sickening crash of the gates collapsing inwards. Above it all though, as I sit in the still darkness of my makeshift bedroom I hear him.

"I AM OCTAVIUS SEVERUS FELINEIUS, COMM--"

"--ANDER OF THE SEVENTH LEGION, CHAMPION OF THE FESTAVIUN AMPHITHEATRE AND I WILL SHIT ON EACH ONE OF YOUR GRAVES BEFORE THIS DAY IS DONE!" I cry as I charge forward. Behind me I can hear my reserves take up the charge as well. "LUPUS SEMPER VINCENS!"; battle is joined.

The weight of my rudius crashes through the faltering front ranks of the barbarians swarming through the gap in the gates. I can only imagine what the sight a hundred cornered wolves bearing down on you would do to even the most battle-hardened warrior. The foxes balk long enough for me to tear into them, the quicksilver movements of my arm dropping the bastards where they stood. My rudius crashes through the meagre defenses of a fox, spilling his cum into the dirt even as he collapses to join it, another falls as I pivot on my foot, ducking beneath his swing to crunch my weapon into his gut. He doubles over with a pitiful mewl as he falls. My wolves have my back, I can see them cutting down any who come too close to my flanks, but there are too many of them.

Wolves fall beneath the sheer numbers of the enemy and even as I send a heavy badger reeling backwards with a kick to his balls before finishing him with a slash across his chest I can see my guards being forced back. The stink of sweat and cum is heavy in the air after only a moment or two of battle, the confines of the gate littered with bodies of foxes, badgers and wolves. Still I fight, throwing my fist into the nose of a snarling fox before clubbing him over the head with my weapon.

"To me!" I shout to no-one in particular, but they listen. Stepping over the fallen bodies of their own cum-stained comrades my wolves flock to me. We carve our way into the surging barbarian devils, leaving a swath of stiff cocked destruction in our wake. How many fall? I lose count after twenty, though I'm well aware of the beginnings of fatigue in my arm. The rudius is stained with dirt and cum as it crashes into the collarbone of a howling fox; his cum spurts over my chest, glistening in my fur as I continue to fight over his fallen body. Ahead I can see the enemy thinning; they're falling back!

Through the parted sea of fur I see the reason, however. A great white tiger adorned in trinkets of bone and fur matted by paint charges through the ranks. On the tiger's back sits a badger larger than the others, though no brighter it seems. As he charges I grab the club of a fallen fox and hurl it at him. The weapon connects forcefully with the chieftain's chest and immediately his cum flies in torrents. Seated as he is it's not hard to see his heavy balls and cock as he pulses thick jets of his cream into the air, splattering it onto the back of the tiger's head before he tumbles from the saddle. I let out a roar of victory, falling back even as the barbarians look back in surprise as their leader falls.

"Scum!" I declare loudly, though I'm intently aware of how many wolves lay in the mess of bodies just inside the gate. Despite such an easy coup I find myself intently aware that this battle was not over. The tiger continues to charge despite the loss of its rider. The creature is huge, larger than any I'd seen in my journeys to the farthest reaches of the Empire. His claws are capped with greenstone and a single strike from them would end my fight.

"Fall back!" I cry out to the survivors. "Inside!" The tiger tears into my wolves like a plow tilling soil, using its immense size to simply bowl them over. The foxes gather around the tiger as though it were their leader, rather than the badger laying somewhere in the field just beyond the gate. A wolf is caught even as I turn to face the tiger, his body decimated by the slashing claws of the tiger. His hips buck as he spurts his cum up into the air even as the tiger tears through another pair of wolves; both succumb as well, their bodies piled atop one another as their cum oozes into each other's fur. The remaining wolves hurry for the relative safety of the fort's interior structures but it was merely delaying the inevitable. I backpedal but the tiger continues to charge and I realize I will have to fight.

I duck under its initial leap, the sheer size of it causing the very air to buffet against me as it passes. I can hear it snarl even as a pair of foxes rush towards me. I don't have time to turn and gauge where the tiger had landed as I fend off the attack of the two barbarians. One is quickly dispatched as I push his weapon to the side before slamming my own into the side of his head; he falls like a sack of bricks, knocking the other off balance and making for a quick end to him as well when I spin around him to concuss his spine with my rudius. The tiger has already turned to rush me again, but as the second fox begins to fall I grab him around the upper arm and throw him towards the attacking feline. It throws the beast off long enough for me to lunge, slashing at its face with my weapon; the beast does not fall.

Either through size or willpower, or perhaps sheer dumb ferocity, the tiger withstands the blow, though it falters slightly. The bone charms interlaced in its fur shake and click as the beast shakes its head, gathering itself to attack again but I don't let up. Its claws slash at me but I scramble out of the way, scooping up the shield of a fallen wolf. A second blow from the creature nearly shatters the thick shield, splintering the wood and throwing me back onto my ass. I'm breathing hard, my arm is tired, I can't hold out much longer.

"Sir!" I hear the call of a wolf as he comes running from the buildings, his mace up to assist me.

"Back!"

"But--" it's too late, the tiger turns and lunges at the brave soul, crushing him beneath his weight as his surprised eyes widen in both horror and pleasure as those greenstone claws do their work. I grimace, but there was nothing for it now. I rise to my feet and run once more.

"PIETAAAAS!" I cry as I lift my blade a final time, the call shocking even me as it roars from my lips. The beast turns from its prey to snarl at me but it had no idea of what my intentions might be, at least until my weapon stabs forward. The snarling beast may be too large to take down from the outside, but inside it was just as vulnerable as any creature. My blade rips into his mouth, my arm following as I shove my rudius down its vacuous throat. Its roar is cut short while mine continues, fangs bared and eyes locked with its own. Its own savage eyes seem to soften as I hold my weapon inside its body, my arm locked in its gullet and my weapon doing its work.

I can feel the gush of its cum as the hulking feline climaxes, its impressive cock spraying the underside of its belly, and my legs with the warmth of its defeat. I remain there, standing, staring, snarling as it finally collapses under the weight of its own pressing ecstasy. I'm aware of the foxes and badgers watching me but I will not be dissuaded. None of them dare move against me now, a few stepping back as I pull my arm free of the downed tiger; my weapon is gone, no doubt sitting in the belly of the great beast. As I turn to face the awestruck barbarians, I laugh.

"Have you got another!?" I shout tauntingly as their surprise affords me that extra second or two before they charge. My wolves rush to help me but I am too tired to do anything but stare at the barbarians as they bolster their own resolve and finally come at me.

22nd of Maius, 8thyear of Emperor Festavious

_ The battle is over. With the loss of their leader the barbarians splintered and the badgers turned on the foxes; no doubt they both felt they were entitled to the weapons of the fallen wolves. The remaining wolves made short work of them and sent them fleeing to the shelter of their camps. We have reclaimed the fallen, many of whom are already back on duty, though some still linger in the throes of the greenstone's effects. Severus is gone. When they retreated the bastards took him with them, though I've been told he took enough of them that even the bravest of them were afraid to touch his unconscious form. Before he sent me to the buildings he told me to do what I must, and I will do just that. The Emperor, I'm sure, would not risk his wolves for a simple commander, someone easily replaced; no doubt by some simpering patrician who would lead from the comfort of a velvet cushion. We are overdue to the border already, but they will wait. With the hundred and thirty wolves left to us, we will all do what we must. Severus, whether or not you have used the last of your nine lives this day is unimportant, for if you have, I shall gladly give you the use of mine. We ride for the camps at first light._

_ ~Ionius Severus _