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Face Yourself

• Chapter 19 in the Chronicles of the DragonRider

The night was as dark as a night could get. Thick clouds covered the moon and the stars, and no settlements below them were polluting the darkness with their artificial light. Ages ago, before she had begun her journey with Blake - before she became a DragonRider - she would've termed it 'darker than the inside of a boot'. But now, with her supernaturally-sharp eyes, she could still make out the rough shape of the land below as she soared through the oppressive darkness on Blake's broad back.

He, she knew, could see even better than her - hopefully MUCH better. She really didn't want to find herself flying face-first into a suddenly-appearing cliff. But despite the risks inherent in night-flying, it beat the alternative... and so, she was grateful that the cloudy weather had made the darkness complete. In this coal-black sky, Blake would blend in perfectly. There was no light to reflect off his scales. No stars for him to be silhouetted against. To anyone watching, from above or below, the two of them were nothing more than another black spot in a sea of darkness.

She'd even pulled on her old fur-coat - which was starting to look less rich and more ragged from all the time it had spent stuffed in a saddlebag - in order to conceal her own fair skin, just in case. They weren't taking ANY chances, not anymore. They'd learned by now that Lutan's 'trials' were no joke, and this time they actually had a fairly good idea of what they were flying into: Dragon Territory.

That was the reason why no fire-lit settlements could be seen beneath them - whether wise elves or ferocious orcs, NOBODY wanted to impugn on the homes of the dragons... especially since most dragons weren't shy about turning such 'lesser creatures' into a quick meal if they happened to be hungry. And even if that could be avoided (Golds, for example, were known to be picky eaters), you could count on your livestock being gobbled up instead - not to mention the large number of very big, very tough 'burglars' waiting to steal any precious metals or stones you might acquire.

Thus, the only light for miles around came from the cluster of mountains and mesas to their left - flickering lights denoting the caves and meeting-grounds of the dragons. At least 3 dragonhomes dotted the mountainous area, populated chiefly by Bronze, Green and Blue dragons - lower-caste beasts by draconic standards, neither particularly large nor particularly clever. Their numbers more than made up for it, though. Both the colossal Reds and the highly intelligent Golds laid few eggs - while the less imposing races, particularly the Greens, bred far faster.

Enough said, neither she nor Blake particularly wanted to get in a fight with them. Together, they'd be a match for dozens of them - but there were HUNDREDS in each dragonhome. And they'd band together in a moment if they saw a feared Black Dragon passing through their territory. So, fly-by-night it was. If they didn't find what they were looking for tonight, Blake assured her that he'd be able to hide them with an illusion during the day - none of the local dragons were likely to have enough magical aptitude to penetrate his illusions. For damn sure, they wouldn't blunder into anything unprepared this time. Lutan's Tablet had led them here, to 'face themselves' somehow - but if that involved fighting other dragons, they'd do so on their own terms, and with careful preparation.

Suddenly, Anitra noticed that the night seemed a bit brighter than it had before. Glancing upwards, she found the cloud-cover unchanged and the moon still unseen. Then her eyes panned down to the distant lights of the dragonhome cluster. The lights there were now more numerous, and brighter, and... seemed to be moving. Through her telepathic link, she sensed that Blake had noticed too, and that he was now focusing his eagle-sharp eyes on it.

Magic. And dragonfire. His statement seemed to bounce around her head for a bit before it shook loose the logical conclusion. A battle? He nodded mentally. Almost certainly. Dragons don't bandy their flames about without good reason. 'course, if it was just that, it could be an internal conflict, but... She licked her suddenly-dry lips. 'But', indeed. Bronze dragons had SOME aptitude for magic, but it seemed extremely unlikely that there'd be enough magically-skilled specimens to set off this kind of fireworks. On the other hand, any outsider intending to attack a whole city of dragons would certainly need to bring some heavy-duty magic.

Feeling each other's sudden worry through their mind-link, Blake started to reduce his altitude. We don't know what we're flying into at this rate. Let's set down for now, get under cover. When it's light again, we may be able to see what's happened over there. She nodded mentally, keeping her eyes on the remote light-show. The dragonhomes were still quite far away - hours, even on dragonwings - and their destination was close by. But they weren't taking any chances this time.

Hidden under a rocky outcropping, they watched the light-show from a safe distance. It went on for hours, but then - just as suddenly as it had started - it was over... and no more lights were visible from the dragonhomes. Exchanging worried glances, they stayed under cover until the sun rose behind the clouds, bringing a vague, murky dawn to the mountains. The first, dull rays made it clear that their worries had not been without reason. Even from this distance, Blake's sharp eyes could pick out the aftereffects of a great battle. Large chunks of the mountains were missing, and multicolored specks could be seen splayed across the rocks - the corpses of fallen dragons.

Then, suddenly, Blake spoke. "I see a live one... barely." He was speaking under his breath, even though there probably wasn't anyone nearby to hear them. "And he's coming out way... though with those wounds, I doubt he'll stay in the air for long." Anitra followed the direction of Blake's eyes, and spotted it too - a tiny, metallic-looking spot in the gray sky. They exchanged a look as Blake shook out his wings. "We need to know what happened."

She nodded and jumped to his back, hanging on tightly as he took to the skies... albeit only just barely. After all, while they no longer had any reason to be worried about being spotted by dragons, that just meant that they had NEW reasons to stay hidden. So they hugged the ground as close as Blake dared, ducking and weaving over rocky outcroppings, down through river-valleys, and around clumps of hardy mountain-fir. The metallic speck in the air was getting closer, and by now Anitra could make out the details herself. Definitely a bronze, definitely NOT feeling well - he was moving choppily through the air, losing altitude fast. Most likely, the only reason he was still airborne at all was that he was heading down a mountainside, gliding more than flying.

Until, eventually, he couldn't manage that anymore either. By then, both she and Blake could see enough of his injuries to not feel particularly surprised when his wings finally gave out, sending him plummeting into an area of tough shrubbery and small, wind-resistant trees. Increasing their pace slightly, they made a beeline for the crash-site. Considering how low he'd been, and how slowly he'd been moving, the impact should've presented no problem for a tough, fully-grown dragon... but with the state he'd been in, it was highly likely that he was living on borrowed time.

Finally, they landed in front of him. Up close, he looked even more of a mess. His scales were cracked and scorched, his wing-tissue torn in several places, his face covered in scars - including one that seemed to have taken out both his eyes, leaving him to fly blind... but what was obviously killing him was several deep wounds in his chest, steadily leaking blood into the wooden debris of the crash.

The dragon sensed their arrival despite his blindness, raising his head with obvious difficulty as his neck seemingly threatened to give out under the stress. "You... are one of us..." his voice was hoarse and faint. Blake glanced back at Anitra, a strange pain in his eyes. Only a blind, half-dead dragon would acknowledge a black as one of his own. But for now, that played into their hand nicely. He cleared his throat, letting some of his (very real) worry bleed through it. "Yes... I came here to visit family. I saw the lights last night. What's happened here? Who did this to you?"

The bronze started speaking, then broke into a coughing fit, propelling several mouthfuls of blood across the intervening space to stain Blake's chest-scales. Trails of blood were running down the half-dead dragon's jaws as he managed to find the breath to speak again. "They... they came in the night. We'd heard the rumors. Thought they were exaggerated. Thought we were ready. Never could have believed lesser races could be so dangerous. Utter... chaos..." His head was weaving more and more, and the blood streaming from his wounds seemed to be slowing down. "WHO came? WHO?" Blake asked empathically, fear creeping into his voice. "The... *COUGH* The humans. The Dragon-Slayers!"

Another coughing-fit followed, then his neck seemed to lose its strength and his head fell to the ground. It didn't rise again. Blake and Anitra felt their hearts quicken as they glanced at one another. "We've heard about them before, haven't we?" Anitra asked, remembering that day. Blake nodded. "Yes. Aurelia, that golden dragon from the island. As I recall, we waved off her dire warnings, deciding that she was probably misinformed."

They both looked up towards the disaster-zone that had once been the home of hundreds of dragons, and now was merely an immense charnelhouse. Then they looked back at one another. "Well, I suppose this doesn't actually change much, does it?" Blake remarked, forcing his suddenly-rising fear down. "We still need to reach a specific spot near here without being spotted ourselves. Now we need to hide from human adventurers instead of dragons, but so what?" Anitra nodded, looking past the peaks of the dragonhome-cluster towards the invisible point to the east of them that Lutan's Tablet was directing them towards. "Yeah, same difference, right? And besides, I don't see a band of random, dragon-hating adventurers representing 'ourselves' any more than a city full of dragons."

Blake eagerly returned the nod, picking up on her hopeful tone. "Right? It's probably just a coincidence that these guys happen to hit this place at this time. And hey, now we know they're a real threat, so we can keep an eye out. And of course, hitting a large, well-known dragonhome with overwhelming force is one thing - spotting a single, careful dragon in the wilds is quite another. Humans have weak eyes." Reinforcing each other's morale with hopeful statements, they returned to the air, still flying low and maintaining concealment. Neither one of them really believed in the 'coincidence' of the Dragon-Slayers appearing right here, right now... but even if it wasn't, that didn't necessarily mean that they'd have to FIGHT them. Right?

St. George watched restlessly as the cloudy skies above brightened. The night was far gone. They should be moving by now! He knew at least a couple of those accursed dragons had escaped their just fate, fleeing cravenly as all evil creatures did when exposed to the true light of the Allfather. His hands were itching to grab the reins of his mighty steed and take off in pursuit immediately. But alas, he wasn't traveling alone, and as a true and noble knight, he could not act without consideration for his companions. However odd and possibly heretical a bunch they were.

Sighing as he tried to calm himself, he glanced across their little encampment. Some had been wounded during the battle and required attending to - complicated by the fact that the drawn-out struggle had pushed the group's twin clerics to the limits of their strength. Thus, making camp had been necessary to allow them - and the wizard, of course - to recuperate and regain their strength. This had, however, been accomplished already - and by now, the two girls were circulating around the camp, lending their healing powers to those who had been wounded during the night's engagement.

His eyes lingered on them for a while. Not out of any lascivious desire, of course - he had noticed how some of the other members of the group looked at their nubile young bodies, their exotic garments somehow accentuating their femininity, but he was far too pure for such thought. Rather, he was simply considering - once again - whether they were sinners or saints. He'd heard their story, after all, when they first introduced themselves to the group: Himeko, the honey-blond Priestess of the Sun and Chikane, the Priestess of the Moon, whose hair was the blue-black of the midnight sky. Together, they were known as 'Kannazuki no Miko', which they'd told him translated loosely into 'The Priestesses of the Godless Month'.

They had come from one of the islands of the archipelago lining the eastern coast of the continent, and had once been the chief servants of their homeland's highest and most fearsome god - Ame no Murakumo, the God of Swordsmen. Their destiny had been to perform a great Ritual of Summoning, to call Ame no Murakumo and empower him to symbolically defeat Yamato no Orochi - which, George had gathered, was simply the local name for the Eight-Headed Dragon-Goddess Takhasis. Apparently, this ritual was performed every 1000 years, and somehow kept dragons away from the entire island. But when they'd discovered that the ritual required one of them to kill the other with a sacred sword, they'd rebelled against their destiny and fled their homeland.

Now, St. George well understood the need for self-sacrifice - indeed, to sacrifice yourself for the greater glory of God was the highest honor one could hope for! Which would make them sinners for turning their backs on their divine duty. On the other hand, the god who had required that sacrifice was not the One True God, The Allfather, but just another one of the many heathen gods, worshipped by people who knew no better. And rather than simply run away and hide somewhere, the girls had sought to find a different way to safeguard their homeland - one that would not require such sacrifices. Hence, their presence here.

Of course, there were whispers in the camp that the two girls were... somewhat closer than simply colleagues and friends. And he'd certainly noticed the way the two of them often looked at one another. And held one another. All that hugging and whatnot. And if it WAS true, then that was certainly sinful - The Allfather had, after all, decreed that the only true union was between a man and a woman, and that all else was base and sinful. But it wasn't as if he really KNEW that there was anything inappropriate between the two women, he reminded himself. They were, after all, from a faraway land, and a completely different culture. Perhaps such behavior was common and accepted there, and not an indication of anything in particular.

But ultimately, it mattered little. Even if they in truth held such sinful desires, they were still far from being the greatest sinners in the camp. The Allfather worked in mysterious ways, as the priests had always told him - and sometimes through unexpected tools. And certainly, the blond one - Himeko - was the very image of the kindness and generosity one would expect of a true Child of God. Her smile always lit up the whole camp like a rising sun, and she never hesitated to use her healing powers on anyone who needed them - not even animals, as she was currently demonstrating by helping a warhorse that had been singed during last night's engagement. Chikane was more aloft, and had about her the air of a noblewoman - but her cool head was something George greatly appreciated when the heat was on. She never failed to stand her ground, and never flinched in the face of the beastly dragons - something even the bravest of knights often could not claim.

Thinking about the two priestesses, and about sinners, brought his thought - and his gaze - naturally over to the group's only mage. It was, after all, him who had brought them aboard, selling them on his 'plan' for weakening Takhasis. He was sitting outside his tent, reading in a small book - a spellbook, no doubt - looking for all the world like a calm, studious scholar. That is, if one ignored his gold-colored skin, his unnatural, hourglass-shaped pupils, and the ominous smell of unwholesome magical components that hung about him like a foul cloud. The jet-black cloak he wore didn't help either.

George gritted his teeth. If he could kick ONE member out of the group, it would be him - Raistlin Majere. Certainly, he was helping in the fight against the evil dragons, but George knew without shadow of a doubt that he was doing it entirely for his own sake. Apparently, the power-hungry mage had sought to ascend to divinity by stealing the power of Takhasis, and failed miserably - as mortals always did when they sought to play with the powers of the divine. Now, fearing her retribution, he sought to weaken her by killing off her 'children', the unholy dragons. Frankly, George would have been inclined to just feed the sorry excuse for a human being to the evil goddess himself - a just end was a just end, even at unjust hands.

But of course, Raistlin was exactly the member of the team they could LEAST live without. His mastery of magecraft was undeniable, and it was his enchantments that had armed and armored them against the dragons. It was even his knowledge of ancient arcane secrets that had led them to the long-forgotten armory where they had recovered the DragonLances - ancient, sacred weapons specifically designed to bring down the scaly fiends. Both he and the other knights had used them to great effect since, and while they wouldn't have found them without Raistlin, George comforted himself with the knowledge that at least they hadn't been directly enchanted by his no-doubt sin-stained hands.

And ever since they took a side-trip - on Raistlin's behest, of course - to the tower of some wizardly acquaintance of his, he'd proven even more formidable. The staff now resting against the black-cloaked mage's chair had been crafted by his own hands, with some help from the rest of the team - particularly the Beastmaster - and was based on the research that had gone on in that tower... gleaned entirely from records and documents, seeing as the wizard in question had expired messily long before they even got there. After he'd finished it, he'd proven his skills as a battlemage in the very next engagement, sending a score of dragons tumbling from the skies...

Ah yes... the 'Beastmaster'. He lacked the same ominous air of undisguised villainy that surrounded the mage, but what he was DOING was certainly questionable in the extreme. Even now, he was standing away from the rest of the camp, next to the magic circle that held his 'pets'. The largest of them was a Blue Dragon, barely an adolescent, but still bigger than a horse. A dusty-looking Brown Dragon was at its side, smaller only because of its atrophied wings, and otherwise massively built. Several whelps of varying colors clustered around the feet of their older relatives, and there were several unhatched eggs in there, too.

Lance was his name, and apparently he hailed from another island in the eastern archipelago - 'Kanto', or something. Highly skilled at capturing and training various dangerous beasts to fight for him, he had seemingly become obsessed with doing the same to dragons after coming across an orphaned dragon-whelp and taking it in. Calling himself the 'Dragon Master' now, he'd joined the group primarily for a chance to catch more young dragons and eggs, to raise as his slaves. Selfish to be sure, but George could not help but see a certain poetic irony in using these evil creatures against their own kind. And besides, it was somewhat like he was... redeeming them, yes? Although, granted, he hadn't made that much progress until that songstress had joined...

She was standing next to him even now, her undeniably beautiful voice vibrating wordlessly through the air. The dragons were moving their heads in time to the music, their reptilian eyes glazed as if they were caught in a delightful dream. Her thick, reddish-brown hair was waving slightly in the breeze, and despite the simple garments she wore, she seemed an image of purity and beauty - enough said, the dragons weren't the only ones who seemed entranced by her performance. Normally, he would have been concerned about the corrupting influence she might have on the other men in the camp, but she had about her such an air of childlike innocence and defenselessness that she seemed more likely to inspire protective instincts than unwholesome urges.

And besides, George was subtly convinced that if ANYONE here was truly guided by the Allfather, it was her. They'd found her entirely by accident, hiding in a cave... with a hungry dragon outside, seemingly kept at bay solely by her singing. After dealing with the beast, they'd rescued her and heard her story. Apparently, her name was Menolly and she'd run away from her home in a small fishing-village due to constant abuse from her parents, who had ruthlessly opposed her desire to become a bard. This was bad enough by itself, but when a passing dragon had started feasting on the day's catch, her singing had driven it away somehow - and rather than be grateful for this miracle, they had declared her a witch.

Obviously, George was as eager to root out witches as the next Paladin of the Allfather, but he had little patience for foolish fishermen who couldn't tell the difference between the dark powers of a witch and a divine gift from the Allfather. He'd set the record straight, of course, and once he'd explained her divine destiny to her, she'd eagerly joined the group as a valued member. Her ability to hypnotize dragons with her voice was as inexplicable as it was useful, and her presence had silenced a lot of his misgivings about Lance's 'pets'.

Ah, but who was that creeping up on her, all subtle-like, but the team's roguish trickster? If anyone had designs on that innocent girl, it would almost have to be him. When he wasn't trying to chat up the two priestesses, or counting all the money he'd grabbed from the dragon-hoards they'd raided, he was usually seen hanging out around Menolly - obviously trying to seduce her with his roguish charm and oddly lilting speech.

In any other band of adventurers, George would've no doubt considered a petty criminal and self-confessed pirate like him to be his natural enemy. But in this gathering, his sheer pettiness was somewhat comforting. The pirate's desires were unabashedly simply: Gold, rum, and women - not necessarily in that order. He had no apparent interest in dragons, for good or for ill, but he had a definite interest in the TREASURE they collected - and for a double-share of the take, he'd joined the band. George had even spotted him bottling the blood of slain dragons, presumably to sell to alchemists and mages for an extra bag of gold. Normally, he wouldn't have agreed to such a deal, let alone ignored such an 'enterprise', but after they'd had a few unpleasant run-ins with traps and tricks left behind by dead or fleeing dragons, he'd been forced to admit that they needed someone on the team with a sense of... subtlety.

And while 'subtle' wasn't exactly the first word that came to mind when you saw the ex-pirate's garish clothes, odd makeup or abundant jewelry, he certainly DID know his way around a trap... and had, on top of that, distinguished himself with a flair for unconventional tactics. Luring dragons into traps of his own, confusing and confounding them with fast-talking declarations, and attacking then they least expected it - it was an untraditional approach to dragon-slaying, certainly, but also undeniably effective. It didn't hurt that the knave had proven to be a surprisingly skilled swordsman, too. Considering all that, George could live with his fondness for petty crime, as well as his continued insistence that he be addressed as CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, despite having left his ship and crew behind long ago.

With a sigh, George looked away, reminding himself to have a talk with 'Captain Jack' about leaving Menolly alone sometime soon. The Allfather picked odd tools, indeed, but his was not to question why. At least the rest of the group was somewhat more tolerable. The bowman, Bard, was practicing his shots by picking blackberries from a distant bush - hitting each mark with perfection. He was a simple and straightforward fellow, and a man of few words - all George had gathered from him was that his home of Laketown had been destroyed by a marauding Red Dragon by the name of Smaug, and that he sought revenge against all of dragonkind for it.

He'd been quiet as to the origin of the Black Arrow he wielded - it penetrated dragonscales with ease, and somehow reappeared in his quiver whenever he reached for it there. But George knew a thing or two about weapons, and strongly suspected that it was of Dwarven making - and very, very old. Well, either way, it was one more potent weapon in the camp that he didn't have to thank Raistlin for, and that was good enough for him.

And then there was that other chap... George looked around for him. He wasn't in the camp. Probably, he'd gone off to hunt for game, as he often did, and would no doubt come back dragging a bear-carcass behind him or something. The towering barbarian from the northern lands of Skyrim feared no man or beast, to be sure, and most who'd met him had learned to fear HIM. He called himself 'Dohvakiin', which apparently meant something in the ancient, barbaric tongue of his homelands. He'd also claimed that dragons were trying to eat the world, and that it was his destiny to kill them all because he could absorb their souls. Privately, George suspected that the guy was more than a little insane, but his combat-skills were unquestionable, and he certainly seemed dedicated to their cause.

His unusual skill, which he called the 'Thuum', didn't hurt either. It had certainly given George pause the first time he saw the barbaric warrior _shout_a dragon out of the sky. Raistlin had tried to explain it to him afterwards; something about it being an ancient discipline of magic based around raw willpower rather than intellect, which sought to make the universe conform to the desires of the user simply by shouting them loudly enough - in the language of the ancient gods. George couldn't claim to understand it, but what he DID understand was that it made the otherwise simplistic barbarian far more tactically flexible than he'd otherwise have been.

And finally, there were his own loyal followers - the only people in the camp he knew he could really count on. A platoon of Mimbrate Knights, each resplendent in ensorcelled plate-mail, each armed with a fearless warhorse and a DragonLance. When a dragon was brought down from the skies, their thunderous charge would be the last thing it saw before it was sent back to hell where it belonged. George gazed across them proudly. There had been 50 when they'd first set out, and while casualties had claimed several of their numbers, there were still over 20 of the brave knights left - and the losses had only spurred them onwards to greater heroics.

Most of the casualties had been inflicted early on in their journey, before all of their new allies had joined them - in particular, the twin priestesses had managed to prevent ANY loss of life since joining... though a couple of knights had sadly been forced to return home after sustaining major injuries. The Clerics of the Allfather would be able to regenerate their lost limbs, but it would take time, and they couldn't afford to be slowed down by the wounded.

Watching them tend to their horses, George decided to distract himself by following suit. His steed, after all, required a bit more looking after than most - a noble Hippogriff, combining the fierceness and swift wings of the griffons with the loyalty and strong back of the horse. Dubbed 'Buckbeak' by his previous owner, George had found great joy in taking to the skies with him - and in using his speed and ferocity to rend the wings of escaping dragons and bring them to the ground where his allies could finish them off. With great care, he started cleaning the feathers of the large, eagle-like wings, wanting to make sure he was ready to take off the MOMENT it was time.

He heard a rustling behind him, and looked up to see the group's leader approach, the mighty obsidian greatsword that had given the group its name slung across her back. It was she who had opened his eyes to his true destiny - not to simply wait quietly for yet another dragon to swoop in and threaten the lives and livelihoods of good people, but to go after them at the source. To wipe away their unholy corruption altogether.

Her body and face bore the scars of countless battles, and she threw herself into each one with unbridled, nigh-suicidal ferocity. Surely, such zeal could only be a gift from the Allfather, much like the sword she carried. He'd seen it slice straight through a dragon's forelimbs, cutting through scales, muscles and bone like it was butter. Sadly, the one time he'd worked up the courage to ask her where she'd found such an obviously divine weapon, she'd just mumbled something about finding it in a pyramid beneath a dark sun...

She gestured over her shoulder. "We're about ready to break camp and get going. You scout ahead as always - track down any that escaped last night. Look for traces of blood - I don't think any of the fiends got away without at least being marked." He nodded and saluted, standing up straight. "By your command, ma'am! Before I'm done, there won't be a single dragon left alive for miles around." Her only reply was a sharp smile and a nod. Glad to finally have been given the go-ahead, he wasted no time swinging into the saddle, hefting his DragonLance. He would mete out swift justice for any dragon who thought it had escaped its destiny...

Incomming!_Blake's mental voice snapped. It carried with it a direction, and Anitra followed it with her own eyes to spot a fast-moving, gleaming speck in the sky. It was heading in their direction, and growing at a disquieting pace. Blake swore - mentally and audibly both - flapping his wings powerfully to gain altitude. _He's heading straight for us - must've spotted us already. Looks like a griffon or hippogriff - sharp-eyed beasts! Anitra added a few swearwords of her own to Blake's tirade as she released her grip on him with her right hand, letting it reach back for the comforting heft of BlackFire's hilt. At least now that they weren't hugging the ground anymore, the ride should be that much smoother...

As they clawed their way up higher into the air, Anitra turned her head in a wide circle, searching the rest of the sky, as well as the terrain below. There was no sign of anyone - or anything - else, except a few wild animals. Was this guy just a scout? If so, he should be turning BACK, to alert his companions, not diving down towards them. Sure, griffons were about the only creatures willing to face a dragon in the air, but only because they had strength in numbers. A single griffon-rider going up against a dragon wasn't so much a fight as it was a snack.

But still he was coming, at increasingly ludicrous speeds, using the slope of the mountain to gain speed without losing effective altitude. They couldn't have outrun him if they'd tried, but they'd already silently agreed that their best approach was to silence this attacker before he could alert his friends anyway. As he got closer, however, Anitra could start making out some increasingly worrying details. For starters, it was a hippogriff rather than an ordinary griffon - those were somewhat rare and usually only bred in captivity. A bit slower than a full-blooded griffon, but easier to train and stronger.

The later trait was being heavily used in this case - both the steed and the rider were covered in armor, which was glowing with heavy-duty enchantments. But it was nothing compared to the lance hanging from the rider's hand - to her magically-sensitive eyes, it shone like a beam of pure light, filling her with dread. Perhaps this guy wasn't heading for a one-on-one confrontation with a dragon because he was stupid or suicidal. Perhaps he was merely... confident.

Blake had obviously noticed the dangerously powerful gear too, and seemed disinclined to let it into stabbing-range. Even as his wings continued to beat powerfully, giving him more altitude and thus more maneuvering-options, his claws were drawing intricate designs in the air as he called on some of his best combat-spells. If at all possible, he wanted this guy downed before he even got within breath-range. Hoping that the enchantments glowing on the knight's armor were better suited for stopping fire-breathing and dragon-claws than dark magic, he let fly with his most precise, long-ranged and powerful attack-spell - Lance of Darkness.

A sizzling beam of pure darkness shot from his claws, covering the intervening space nigh-instantly, hammering into the knight before he could even raise his shield... making him wobble slightly in the saddle as the dark energies scattered across his breastplate like water off a duck's back. Swearing loudly, Blake quickly prepared another spell - all he'd have time for before the guy was inside his breath-range. Electricity crackled around his claws as he unleashed a potent thunderbolt at the knight - even the strongest enchantments found it difficult to make heavy metallic armor lightning-proof, he knew. But the knight was ready this time, and a kite-shield emblazoned with the symbol of the Allfather blocked the incoming thunderbolt, scattering the potent electricity in the air.

The sight redoubled Blake's swearing - not just because his spell had been blocked, but because of what he knew that symbol had to mean. No mere knight, but a Paladin: Martial skill tempered by divine might. A Paladin of the Allfather was a dangerous opponent even for a dragon. One mounted on an armored hippogriff and decked out in gear specifically designed for anti-dragon combat was more than just dangerous. Which, of course, was exactly what he had bearing down on him now - lance at the ready.

Throwing a swift gout of flame at the knight, he quickly tucked in his wings and dove for the ground. He could hear the whistling in the air as the knight passed over him at breakneck speed, the lance missing his tail by less than a foot. Spreading his wings again, he evened out the dive and used the velocity to propel himself sharply upwards again, glancing to see which way the hippogriff was going. As he'd suspected, the brief exposure to his fire had done nothing - the enchantments had held. If he wanted to bring this problem down, he'd need to keep them in range for at least a couple of seconds - and that meant getting behind them.

What followed was one of the most impressive displays of aerobatics the world had ever seen. The hippogriff, weighted down by his armor (and armored rider) was slowed down enough that the nimble black dragon could keep up with him, but only just barely. Blake managed to sweep his breath across them several more times, but only in passing, leaving no real impact. Getting behind the experienced war-hippogriff seemed all but impossible, and if the rider got close enough to nail him with that lance even once, he'd be in dire straits.

In the end, experience was the deciding factor... and while Blake was far older than the hippogriff or its rider, he had never fought in an aerial dogfight before. They, meanwhile, had already won several. In a right-wing turn so sharp he wouldn't have thought it possible, the hippogriff was suddenly behind him and bearing down on his rear from a high angle - which meant they could sacrifice altitude for acceleration. His mind raced, seeking a solution that didn't involve him getting an enchanted lance rammed up his ass.

But Anitra had been watching the struggle too, clinging to his back as the sharp g-forces of his turns and dives washed over her. And now, she saw her chance to get involved in the fight. You can gain altitude by rapidly sacrificing speed, right? The question carried with it a note of urgency, and as he chanced a glance across his shoulder, he saw that she had unsheathed her sword and half-climbed to her feet on his saddle. Gritting his teeth, he answered. Yes, yes I can. And that might make him undershoot my position. But doing so will leave me with too little velocity to avoid him when he then swings around for another pass...

The last bit of the sentence hung between them, unsaid even mentally: 'Unless something happens to him before then.' He had a notion of what she was planning, but if he stopped to think about it, he'd try to stop her. And they'd made a decision - to fight TOGETHER from now on. In this case, that meant that he'd simply do as she suggested and trust that she knew what she was doing. If she screwed up, they'd both be dead shortly.

A moment or two before the onrushing lance would have tickled the scales of his backside, he altered the angle of his wings sharply and performed a 'backwing' - a powerful deceleration-maneuver usually used to come in for a landing after a dive. In this case, he used it to almost instantly gain a few yards worth of altitude while sacrificing virtually all of his airspeed. The hippogriff and rider passed under him, and as he'd suspected, they continued their low-angled dive rather than try to adjust upwards to hit his belly - doing so would have put them within reach of his claws, and they were clearly too experienced for such a mistake.

Whether they had made another, far worse mistake in the process remained to be seen. As the hippogriff passed under him, he felt Anitra's sandals grip on the slick scales of his neck. She was dashing up it, having used his sudden deceleration to propel herself forwards into a dead run. In the next moment, she was on his head, using it as a springboard as she flew into empty air - and he felt his heart go with her. If she'd mistimed her jump, or aimed just a smidgeon too far to either side, she'd go plummeting to the rocky ground far below - and he'd never be able to catch up in time to prevent her from coming to a fatally sudden stop at the end.

But she hadn't mistimed, or missed, and St. George was too busy calculating his next move to realize what was happening and dodge. An Immelmann turn would be perfect now, he decided - a swift half-loop followed by a half-roll, putting him level at the same altitude as that damnably agile dragon. It wouldn't be able to evade this time, however. Soon, his lance would taste blood once more. Then, he felt his steed shift beneath him as a sudden weight landed on its rear, and a hand closed around his left shoulder. He had noticed a human rider on the beast's back, but filed it under 'details to be examined at a later time' - she obviously wasn't a factor in the current battle, after all.

Anitra grinned down at the heavily-armored paladin, lifting her sword in her right hand while steadying herself. She could tell that he was trying to get a look at her, but his helmet was too restricting - it wouldn't turn far enough, and the eye-slits were too narrow. He had no idea what was going on, and no way to defend himself from an attack like this. However magical his armor was, it wouldn't stand up to her sword for long - of that she was certain.

She didn't get a chance to find out. As she brought down her sword, his left arm flew up, faster and more nimble than the plate-armor should've allowed, and his shield deflected the blow. Angrily, she swung several more times, only to find her blade's path to his helmet blocked by the shield. Who WAS this guy? He shouldn't even be able to SEE her, and yet he was blocking her every attack! Breath whistling between her teeth she leaned to the right, away from that damnable shield. If she couldn't strike his head, she'd go for his kidneys - less spectacular, perhaps, but just as deadly in the long run.

But as she leaned to the side, the shield swung around to hit her leg. Feeling her already tenuous grip on the hippogriff's equine hindquarters begin to slip, she desperately pulled herself upright again, but it was too late. She was out of balance, and another thrust from the shield made her loose her grip on the knight's armored shoulder. Feeling her feet catch nothing but air as she tumbled back off the hippogriffs back, a sudden flash of déjà vu washed over her. An underground arena. A rush up a sheer wall. Falling backwards off of it, with no hand-holds in sight.

Before the thought had even finished making its way through her mind, her body was acting. Her grip shifted on the hilt of the sword, and with a sudden, shocking movement - and all of her weight behind it - she stabbed it into the hippogriff's hindquarters, clear through the chainmail that covered it, slicing apart the heavy muscle and embedding itself in the thick hip-bone. For a second, she hung there, trailing behind the beast as it keened in sudden agony, held up only by her hand on the sword. She looked back and down, and saw Blake there as she had hoped - keeping pace with the griffon at a lower altitude. Then she triggered BlackFire's flame.

The hippogriff's keen turned into an agonized roar as flame rushed through the poor creature, heating the armor-plating and chainmail that covered him to the melting-point. The thick bone that had held her weight crackled and turned to ashes around the sword's blade, and she lost her purchase, tumbling through the air as she sought to realign her weight to at least land right-side up. Fortunately, Blake had positioned himself well, ensuring that even though she landed awkwardly on her side, she also landed on her saddle - with plenty of hand-holds within reach.

Pulling herself upright, with the flaming blade still in hand, she watched the dying hippogriff crash towards the ground like a flaming comet, his rider's armor glowing as it sought to keep the flames off of him. A fierce grin split Anitra's face, and she could feel that a similar expression adorned Blake's. As they flew onwards, they heard their assailants hit the ground - the impact shattered the steed's superheated armor, turning the crash into a veritable fireball of white-hot metal fragments and burning bits of hippogriff.

"JOOR ZAH FRUL!" The sudden noise was so deafening, Anitra couldn't believe it had been a voice. She had no idea where it came from. The words were unfamiliar, yet not. She felt them claw at her, making her feel suddenly dizzy and unsteady in the saddle. Underneath her, Blake buckled, suddenly crying out in surprise and panic as his wings failed him. The ground was rushing up to meet them, and it was all he could do to slow their fall and steer towards a relatively flat plateau.

The jolting impact sent Anitra tumbling over Blake's shoulder, rolling on the ground as she desperately tried not to accidentally burn or cut herself on her sword - she flatly refused to let go of it, and she hadn't had the time to sheathe it. Managing somehow to avoid impaling herself on her own weapon, she came to a gasping stop several yards from where Blake was moaning in confusion, trying to get his legs and wings to work again. She wasn't feeling too well either, and a sensation of vertigo washed over her as she tried to get to her feet - but whatever had knocked her lover out of the sky had clearly had less of an impact on her. Forcing the nausea down, she pulled herself upright and looked around for the source of... whatever that had been.

She spotted him atop a nearby ridge. He was clad in a mishmash of studded leather, furs, and iron plates, carrying a round, battered iron shield with an unfamiliar design on it, and a simple broadsword in his other hand. The style of his helmet - battle-worn iron leaving only the jaw and eyes uncovered, with two downturned horns on the sides - marked him as a native of the mountainous, far-northern region of Skyrim. The equipment was simple, primitive, downright barbaric, and would have been no threat whatsoever... if the whole thing wasn't also glowing with potent magical runes to her dragon-sharp eyes.

He was grinning madly down at her, banging his sword on his shield, but wasn't making any move to descend and attack them. As the ringing in her ears began to clear, she realized, with a sinking heart, why. A thunderous noise was approaching from around the mountain. She'd heard that noise before, long ago, when she'd watched from the city walls of Caristad as the local knights fought a mock battle with knights from the neighboring city-state of Mimbre. But even without any prior knowledge, she would have guessed that such a noise - the sound of many heavily-armored men and horses riding together - was not a good omen.

As they came around the mountain and into sight, she realized that her recognition had been scarily spot-on. Not merely a column of armored knights, but MIMBRATE Knights - perhaps the most feared in the world, for their valor and fearlessness in battle. The designs of their armor - and the pennants waving from their lance-tips - were unmistakable. As were the glow of magical enchantments covering their shield and armor, and the fierce light of their lances... the same light as the hippogriff-riding knight's lance.

Terror and hopelessness washed through her as they approached at a gallop. There were far too many of them. She was not of a mind to count them, but... there were certainly too many for her to stop. They'd ride her under, even if she cut down one, two, or three as they passed... and then those lances would find her still-stunned lover behind her. As she watched their lances dip like a cresting wave before her, she felt the flames on her blade die and steeled herself to follow suit. If it had come to this... then all she could do was to try and bring as many of them down with her as possible.

Suddenly, she heard something, even over the thunder of the approaching, steel-shoed hooves... a fierce, blood-chilling howl. Then, a raucous barking echoed through the mountains, and a living sea of furry bodies came over the ridge of the plateau behind her. They flowed around her, rushing straight into the teeth of the oncoming charge. Dogs. HUNDREDS of dogs. Some of them even seemed familiar. Showing no sign of fear, they threw themselves into the trampling feet of the warhorses, biting hocks and severing hamstrings. Panicky whinnying mixed with the barks as horses fell, only to be trampled by those behind them, sparking further falls in a chain-reaction that brought the entire charge to a skidding, clanging halt in front of her.

Armored knights hit the ground (and each other) in rapid succession, creating an almighty racket that was then made even worse by the echoes bouncing off the mountains around them. Then, the dogs turned on THEM. With their thick armor, a few angry dogs should have been no more than a passing annoyance, but these dogs were fighting intelligently. Rather than try futilely to get at their victims' well-armored throats, they were clinging to their arms and legs, adding their weight to the already-heavy suits of armor, leaving the knights to flail helplessly on the ground.

Stunned by the sudden turn of events, Anitra could only gape as a familiar, silvery-shape dashed past her, diving into the fray. Silver Fang. The talking, intelligent mercenary dog she'd encountered in Everspring Forest, ages ago. His fangs and claws flashed with wild magic as he leaped on the helpless knights, tearing through steel and enchantments, reaching for flesh and blood. Feeling her desperation turn to elation, Anitra gripped her sword firmly and stalked towards the melee, eager to help. She didn't know what Silver Fang was doing here, but she could ask him later, when they weren't in mortal danger anymore. For now, she needed to help kill off the knights before they could get their feet back under them.

"WULD NAH KEST!" The voice - and volume - were familiar, even if the words were still unknown. Almost on instinct, she dropped back into a fighting stance and raised her sword defensively - just as the primitively-dressed warrior from before skidded to a halt in front of her, having covered the intervening space in a split second. His sword was already raised to strike, but she was ready to intercept it. Iron met iron and sparks flew as Anitra found herself caught up in the most deadly duel of her life.

The barbarian was strong - stronger than her, even, despite her draconic power - and he was fighting with total abandon. Worse, his enchanted shield was ready to stop every attack she sought to make in return, while her dragon-scale armor offered scant protection from a weapon specifically enchanted to kill dragons. Speed was her only advantage - her legs were moving in a blur as she dashed around him, avoiding his sword and seeking a spot unprotected by shield or armor to aim her agile blade at. He was keeping up with her, if only just barely, and she desperately hoped that the fast-paced fighting would run him out of stamina before it did the same to her.

Suddenly, she heard Blake roar. "Anitra, get back! And you dogs too! NOW!" Her body was responding even before her head had finished turning to confirm that her beloved dragon had, indeed, managed to get his feet back under him, and was now weaving a particularly nasty-looking spell with his taloned front claws. Even as she rapidly backflipped out of the barbarian's reach, the dogs dashed away from their fallen foes, escaping the chaotic melee far swifter and cleaner than any human could've hoped for.

Then, electricity flew from Blake's claws - not aimed at the northern warrior, or the fallen knights, but at the cloudy skies above. A ball of arcane energy smote the thick clouds directly above them, and thunder rolled across the mountains. Then, lightning struck - repeatedly and in rapid succession, seeking the armored knights where they had fallen, and the barbaric warrior's iron helmet as well. Electricity arced between steel-armored men and horses, causing cries of pain to rise unheard amidst the repeated peals of thunder.

Then, a single noise drowned out even the thunder. "LOK VAH KOOR!" The barbarian shouted at the skies, and the skies obeyed. The clouds rolled apart as if a giant broom had just swept down from the heavens themselves, taking the lightning with them. The brilliant daylight covered the mesa, shining off the armor of confused, slightly-singed knights as they started pulling themselves to their feet... and showing several more shapes coming around the same mountain THEY had emerged from. The barbarian grinned in her direction, then turned and dashed towards the still-unsteady Blake. With her heart suddenly climbing into her throat, she realized that all her dodging and jumping around had left him completely uncovered, and despite the impressive spell he'd just thrown, he clearly still wasn't at his best.

But as the roaring barbarian rushed towards the fallen dragon, the sunlight seemed to suddenly dim, and a chittering noise filled the air. Out of seemingly nowhere, a flock of night-black bats convened on the barbarian, surrounding him completely as his sword flailed uselessly. Anitra had just enough time to realize that the bats, too, seemed oddly familiar, before another eardrum-shattering roar shook the ground. "FUS RO DAH!" A wave of pure force scattered the swarm of bats, but even as they were whirled through the air, they seemed to arc towards a new spot.

Between Blake and the barbarian, they gathered again... and combined into a single, pale-skinned silhouette wearing elegant, if archaic, armor. Sharp fangs emerged from between his pallid lips, and a greatsword seemingly made partially from alien flesh, with one immense, demonic eye burning on its hilt, hung from his hand. There was no way to mistake the identity of this creature - it was Kain, most ancient and powerful of vampires, with the SoulEdge in his hand. He was by far the most dangerous creature she had ever fought, even though he had merely been playing with her at that time. They had parted on amiable terms, but... why was he here, now?

The northern barbarian seemed disinterested in the hows and whys. He merely roared a challenge as he swung his sword at the ancient vampire. An arrogant smile crested the vampire's lips as he brushed the first strike aside... but it died on his lips when his counterattack was stopped by the unyielding iron shield. Eyes suddenly sharp, he danced around the next blow, then delivered a low sweep at the barbarian's legs, only for the leather-clad warrior to jump back and avoid it. It was clear that Kain had intended to merely jump in and execute the foolish attacker, but now it was turning into a proper duel as the two matched strength and skill against each other.

Knowing Kain's strength, however, Anitra felt confident that the barbarian wouldn't stand a chance. Mentally dismissing him as handled, she let her eyes sweep across the battlefield, seeking the next threat. The dogs of war had jumped back into the fray, once again tripping up and binding down the armored knights while their leader systematically worked his way through their ranks. But further away, the other shapes she had noticed were coming closer. Presumably, the rest of the team. The Dragon-Slayers. They'd killed more dragons than she could hope to count, and if the members she had encountered so far were representative of their skill-levels, she could somewhat understand how. If they approached now, while Silver and his dogs were still busy finishing off the knights, and Kain still dueling the barbarian, things would indubitably take a turn for the worse.

She had to stall them. She couldn't hope to fight them all by herself, but maybe she could distract them long enough for the others to finish THEIR fights, and for Blake to finish recovering from the crash. Gritting her teeth she broke into a dash, arcing around the pitched melee where Silver Fang and his Dogs of War were systematically disassembling the knights, straining her eyes to get the best look she could at the advancing adventurers. She knew enough about adventuring types - both from personal experience and from stories heard as a child - to be able to loosely pick out combat-roles and assign targeting priorities based on appearances alone.

And the guy striding in the forefront of the advancing group had 'dangerous' written all over him. His staff and hooded cloak marked him easily as a mage, and the number of small pouches and vials dangling from his belt narrowed it down further, identifying him as a Magus - someone who used magical reagents to increase the power of their spells. High-level magi were rare, since screwing up at that particular school of magic tended to cause your spells to literally blow up in your face, but those that DID survive to master it were extraordinarily dangerous - combining the advantages of the fast-firing but tactically limited Sorcerer and the strategically flexible but long-winded Wizard. And somehow, she didn't think The Dragon-Slayers would have recruited a rookie. His staff, in particular, was giving her a nasty feeling of déjà vu.

At his side were two pretty young women, one blond and the other dark-haired. The clothes they wore were unfamiliar, resembling nothing Anitra had ever seen before, but she knew that there weren't a lot of people likely to be found on a battlefield without armor. Mages were one kind... and clerics were another. Those armored by faith had no need to steel plates or chainmail. And the clothes the two girls wore certainly seemed ceremonial - loose-hanging white blouses with golden tassels on the shoulder and wrist, with equally loose pants tied at the waist with a huge bow - red for the blonde, purple for the brunette. A matching set - how nice.

There was only one more person in clear view - others were behind this front-line, but she couldn't get a good look at them from this angle. And that guy, at least, didn't look like a magic-user. His clothes were somewhat ragged, but looked both practical and comfy. Worn leather boots, sailcloth pants, a loose, dirty-white blouse partially covered by a black cloth vest (and partially open to show off the hair on his chest), belted by a ragged sash and a well-worn leather belt. Numerous rings on his fingers. Silver earrings. Dreadlocked hair. Braided beard. Black makeup around the eyes designed to reduce the glare of the sun. Frankly, even without the salt-bleached tricorn hat, she would've had him pegged for a pirate.

The flintlock pistol dangling from his side was a good hint too. She'd seen those a few times before, when she'd stopped in harbor-towns for supplies during the long journey. Clever little weapons invented by the Gnomes, they'd failed to find widespread application due partially to the rarity of the ingredients used for the black powder that powered them, and partially because said powder reacted poorly (and explosively) with magic, making the use of enchanted projectiles impossible. Without enchantments, they couldn't penetrate enchanted ARMOR... hence, most people just stuck with enchanted arrows and bolts - but on the high seas, they'd found an audience. The many intersecting trade-routes of the large port towns made it relatively easy to acquire the ingredients for them, and most sailors didn't wear armor. Pirates, in particular, were partial to them - the deafening noise they made when firing added a certain degree of psychological warfare to their attacks.

Well, she couldn't fault a pirate for bringing his weapon along, though she DID wonder what he was doing so far inland - but it wouldn't do much good against her dragonscale armor. The rapier he was wielding, however, glowed with magical runes to her eyes - and THAT could be a real threat. Normally, she'd actually have considered him the main threat - the mage might seem intimidating, but he wouldn't be able to use his magic DIRECTLY on her, thanks to her anti-magical protection. However, she wasn't fighting alone, and one thing her mother had often mentioned when telling tall tales of fighting large groups of enemies was: Always kill the healers first.

The twin priestesses were thus the main priority. If they got close enough to the general fighting, they could aid the knights and the barbarian, turning the battle in their favor. She couldn't allow that. And so, with sword in hand, she directed her dash at them. The pirate, having noticed her heading, stepped between them, sword raised theatrically. "Hah-hah! Fear not, my ladies - I shall protect you from the... well, now... that's some nice armor there..." His voice was smooth, with a strangely mocking jilt to it, but what she mostly noticed was him noticing her body, taking in the distracting amount of cleavage and eye-catching, minimalistic panties. Hopefully, that would make it easier for her to dodge around him and get at the priestesses without having to directly engage him.

The blonde priestess looked worried. The dark-haired one looked annoyed. The magus rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. She had just enough time to notice that his eyes had some oddly-shaped pupils (though she wasn't one to talk, what with her reptilian-style eyeballs), before he swung his staff in her direction. A fireball burst from its tip, aimed directly at her. Still mostly focused on the pirate and the priestesses, she almost negligently swung her sword at the approaching ball of flame, hoping to bat it back at the magus and thereby keep him distracted.

But the moment her sword touched the ball, it exploded. Violently. She felt the force of the blast wash over her... and straight through her magical resistance. The red jewel set in her breastplate glowed bright-red as it protected her from the flames that now surrounded her, preventing her from being roasted on the spot, but the force of the blast sent her flying. Her entire right side felt like one big bruise as she across the ground, trying to push herself upright again as soon as she stopped. Why hadn't her magic-resistant blood and armor stopped that attack?

Suddenly, she recognized the staff. It was identical to the one that wizard had wielded... back near the beginning of her journey, ages ago. Urkanzar, or something. The guy with the griffons. A staff that used captured gryphon souls to bypass draconic antimagic. How this guy had wound up with one just like it, she couldn't hope to guess - but it certainly made him a whole 'nother sort of threat. Huffing, she pulled herself up to one knee, not feeling quite up for standing yet. She had just enough time to see him leveling his staff at her again, and to instinctively bring up her sword. A thunderbolt flew from it this time, straight at her chest, but she caught it on the blade of her sword.

Fortunately, the power of her sword was only PARTIALLY draconic. Any other magic, it could have deflected or destroyed. In this case, all it could do was disperse it. Electricity arced from the blade to the ground, and across her body. Most of the voltage had gone into the ground, but enough rolled through her to make her convulse and drop to the ground again. A direct hit would have killed her. Out the corner of one eye, she could see the two priestesses she'd been targeting to begin with, still bodyguarded by the pirate, making their way around her and towards the rest of the battle. And right in front of her, the magus was raising his staff for another attack, and she wouldn't be able to even get her sword up this time.

Then, the magus froze as a voice rang out across the plateau, resonating with arcane might. "I am he who hath entrusted his soul to the eternal vortex of time! Ye know me! And if ye do not, ye shall be MADE to know me!!" The magus and Anitra turned their heads almost in unison to face the source of the booming voice. Standing on a nearby ridge was a short, young-looking man with silvery hair, a dark-blue cape, and a rather geeky pair of round spectacles. A green, magical light was flickering around him. "It shall be engraved on thy very soul! LEZARD VALETH!!" The mage swore under his breath, and quickly turned to direct his staff at the newly-arrived figure, even as Anitra found herself wondering what the heck HE was doing here.

The blast of flame that shot from his staff, however, was blocked by another figure - this one red-haired and clad in green armor. Popping up from behind the ridge, she sliced the magical attack out of the air with a contemptuous swipe of the huge spear in her hand - one made seemingly from ancient, petrified bone. Meanwhile, Lezard was continuing his chant, seemingly unconcerned. "If ye shall accept the brand of Hel upon thee, thy sanctions shall in turn be lowered. I shall grant thee the deliverance of thy soul, and thee shall come now before me!!" This, she knew, was true wizardry... long, drawn out spells and complicated gestures were required, and necessitated a dedicated protector if used in direct combat. But the potency of such magic was unmatched, as was the spectrum of possible effects.

The chant apparently completed, he lifted a short, white staff with a rainbow-colored gemstone set in its tip, and with a gradually dulled sense of shock, she realized that she recognized that, too. A unicorn's horn, transformed into a powerful magical focus by a Creation Gem. And now, it glowed with dark, malevolent power as Lezard channeled his spell through it, and the ground beneath them shook. The rocky ridge beneath him split apart, sending boulders flying in all directions as a gargantuan, horned skeleton emerged from the ground with Lezard riding upon its shoulder. The monstrous, necromantic construct towered as high as a castle's walls, even though it hadn't even fully emerged - only its ribcage and upwards was visible, with the spine disappearing into a hole that had once been a mountainous outcropping, but which was now filled with a noxious, toxic-looking sludge.

A sadistic grin was visible on Lezard's face as his construct swung one of its oxcart-sized fists down at the mage, but a forcefield popped into existence around the target just before impact. The noise was tremendous, and was followed up almost immediately by another explosion as the black-cloaked mage dissolved his shield and launched another fireball at the skeletal fist in front of him almost simultaneously. As the giant skeleton reeled back, the hand reduced to bone-splinters, the magus glanced up at Lezard with narrowed eyes and Lezard returned the glare with a grin. A mage's duel was joined.

Panting, Anitra once again started pulling herself upright, only to find a pair of armored hands assisting her. Even before she was entirely on her feet, she'd recognized the green-clad warrior now standing by her side: Aelia, the adventuress she'd once seduced and screwed unconscious on Lezard's behest in order to steal the Creation Gem from her. Awwwwk-ward. Still, Aelia didn't seem to be harboring any grudges as she supported her with one shoulder - in fact, she mostly just looked concerned. "Are you sure you're okay to stand, Anitra?" She gritted her teeth and nodded. "I better be, this is no time to be lying around... wait, I don't recall telling you my name."

The red-haired warrior woman grinned mischievously at her while continuing to support most of her weight. "Well, no - but I never told you mine, either, and you knew it anyway. I remembered that the day after. Combined with the disappearance of a very specific gemstone and nothing else, I had some clues to go on, and I was eventually able to track the whole thing back to my old 'friend', Lezard. And convinced him to... share some information about you."

Not knowing what else to say, Anitra just went "Oh... well, nice of you to come by, I guess? And you brought Lezard, too. He... seems to be coming in handy." She glanced over at the huge, horned skeleton, suddenly understanding why he'd been... less than intimidated by her during their previous meetings. Aelia followed her glance and harrumphed. "He better be - he's working off MY Creation Gem, which he'd already turned into that cutesy little staff of his by the time I tracked the theft back to him."

Feeling that she'd finally regained her breath - even if half her body still DID feel rather tenderized meat - she pushed off of Aelia's shoulder and managed to keep standing, wobbling only slightly. "Well... I guess we can talk about that when we're not in mortal danger anymore. For now, we need to stop those priestesses before they turn the battle against my OTHER friends who have inexplicably arrived here in the nick of time." Aelia looked around, spotting the priestesses and their pirate escort. "Yeah... I HAD wondered about that. Seems like you practically got an army here. What's up with that?" Anitra could only shrug as she broke into a slightly unsteady run. "I've got some suspicions, nothing more. Like I said - when we're not in mortal danger anymore."

The priestesses had covered quite a lot of ground while Anitra had been dealing with the magus, and they were almost at the melee by now. Pushing her aching legs into a dash, Anitra prayed that she could still make it in time - at least, with Aelia by her side, it shouldn't be hard for at least ONE of them to get past the pirate and interfere with the priestesses. The pirate, having apparently noticed their approach, turned to face them... and grinned mischievously as he saluted them with his sword, then turned away again. Anitra was briefly dumbfounded by this... before she noticed an odd rumbling in the ground that had been growing steadily stronger for a while. She'd been too focused on the priestesses and had forgotten - there'd been more enemies coming up from further back.

She was torn between turning to face whatever the new threat was, and continuing her run in the hopes of intercepting the priestesses before her pursuer could catch up. Then someone else made the choice for her as an arrow tore into her thigh, sending her rolling across the ground once again, trailing blood and yelping in pain. Aelia skidded to a halt in response, narrowly avoiding another arrow that bounced off the ground millimeters in front of her. Gasping, Anitra pulled herself partially upright, eyes seeking the newest threat.

She found several. In the distance, on top of a boulder, a severe-looking man was nocking another arrow on his bow, calmly drawing the string to deliver another shot. But he was very easy to miss behind the juggernaut bearing down on her now - a muscular-looking Brown Dragon was rumbling towards her, shaking the ground with its weight. Browns weren't known for their intelligence, and they were the only race of dragons that couldn't fly - their wings were tiny and useless on their huge frames - but they could run fast, and were extremely strong and tough. They were also one of the biggest races in terms of sheer size, so while this one had to be little more than a child, it was plenty big enough to trample her into hamburger. And with her wounded leg, she couldn't get out of the way.

But even as Aelia jumped in front of her, broad-bladed spear ready to meet the ground-shaking charge, the 'why' stuck in Anitra's mind. Why was a DRAGON fighting alongside the DRAGON-SLAYERS? His eyes... they looked vague. Empty. He was being controlled. Then, a shout from above drew her attention to the mystery's answer. "That's it, Tyranitar! Use Giga Impact!" Above the battlefield, a flash of blue wings was visible. A young Blue Dragon was floating on the mountain's vertical gusts, and on his back, a young man was seated, waving a glowing lance in one hand and holding some sort of red-and-white orb in the other.

Adrenaline pumping, Anitra's eyes focused on the young man. He HAD to be the one controlling the dragon, somehow - otherwise, he wouldn't be RIDING on one. She took in every detail she could see about him. His hair was red and spiky, standing up in an unusual style. He was wearing something that looked like a dark-blue uniform, edged in gold, and a pointy-collared black cape with red lining. Some kind of naval or army officer? Or just a mage with a flair for dramatics? Either way, that weird two-colored orb in his hand had to be what was controlling the dragons... shame she had no way of reaching it, and only seconds to spare before she'd get crushed under the weight of about a ton and a half of onrushing scales and muscles.

Meanwhile, near the edge of the mesa, Blake was slowly fighting his way out of the nausea. It was rough going, seeing as he was on entirely unfamiliar ground. Dragons normally didn't GET sick - vertigo, nausea, unnatural fatigue, weariness, they were all highly unfamiliar concepts to him. Perhaps that was part of the reason why his beloved Anitra had been on her feet and fighting so quickly, he reflected. She'd been human until relatively recently. She'd probably been sick and tired lots of times, and could deal with it better than he.

At least he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. The vampire who'd suddenly appeared in front of him was more than holding his own, driving back the barbarian with a flurry of powerful swings of his heavy, two-handed blade. Blake's sensitive eyes could see the magical runes on the horned warrior's shield flickering under the onslaught, having already been weakened by Anitra's sword earlier. They wouldn't hold up much longer.

Of course, the fact that he didn't need to concern himself with the barbarian, only gave him more time to be concerned with the rest of the rapidly-escalating battlefield he'd crashed into. The dogs-versus-knights melee was continuing apace - it was a slaughter, but a SLOW slaughter, since Silver Fang was the only one of the dogs capable of inflicting actual injury on the fully-armored knights, and even his fangs took some work to get through to their jugulars. Behind them, a gigantic, horned skeleton was attacking a black-cloaked mage while another mage threw spells from his shoulder. A pair of oddly-dressed girls were coming into view around the chaos in front of him, along with a sword-wielding man. And something else was going on behind it all, but he couldn't see it clearly from down here...

Suddenly, a more immediate priority climbed up the cliff next to him. The movement caught Blake's eyes, and he swiveled his neck to identify the newest addition to the chaos. Only, as it turned out, it wasn't someone new - but rather, the very instigator of this confrontation. The young knight's armor was cracked and burned, and his helmet was entirely missing, but the shield in his left hand still bore the recognizable crest of the Allfather... and the sword in his right hand glimmered with both arcane enchantments and holy power. His blond hair was mussed and sooty, and he was walking with a pronounced limp, but he was remarkably alive for someone who'd ridden a burning Hippogriff into a mountainside, and apparently still spoiling for a fight.

Blake tried to shift his body around to face the oncoming knight, raising his claws to finish off his wounded opponent - but a blinding headache assaulted him as he tried. That spell he'd cast earlier had been a really bad idea, he decided. Not only had it failed to have any significant impact, thanks to that damnable barbarian and his weird shouting, but using something that heavy while still recovering from the crash had clearly overstrained him.

Shaking his head in a desperate attempt to clear it - which only served to reinforce the unfamiliar pain in his head - he gave up on moving his body, and simply arched his neck again to breathe a stream of hellish flame at his foe. There was no way he could cast another spell at this point, and he couldn't stop the knight from approaching his flanks, but he COULD hit him with the concentrated power of a black dragon's breath...

However, the paladin had his shield raised in front of him like a wall, and the holy emblem on it flashed with divine light. The flamed parted before it, and the knight resolutely limped closer, sword still ready in his other hand. Blake attempted to maintain the stream of flame, hoping that continued exposure would burn through the magic, but he found himself running suddenly out of breath - and the fire came to a coughing end. The knight, with a half-mad, triumphant grin on his face, pushed himself to advance faster, blade on the ready.

A sharp, grinding noise suddenly resounded between the rocks, mixed with the meaty sound of a blade biting into flesh. Blinking in surprise, Blake suddenly realized that he'd been so focused on the knight - and the knight on him - that neither one of them had noticed a tall, muscular silhouette climbing up the ridge behind him and approaching his back, weapon raised. But now that he was looking, he saw her - and recognized her. She had changed, however. Last time he saw her, she was a gawky, awkward filly, just starting to fill out around the hips and chest. Now, she was muscular, beautifully-proportioned, and... well, still a horse. A horse-person, anyway.

It was that mare he'd 'met' back in the Lands of the Horse-People, so long ago. Same cream coat, same reddish-brown mane. Of course, back then, she hadn't been wielding that nasty-looking glaive. The way she wrenched it out of the knight's fire-weakened armor as he tumbled forwards, to avoid having it pulled from her hands, indicated that she was at least passingly familiar with its use, too. The knight swore as he regained his balance, swiveling to face his attacker. He seemed briefly dumbfounded by her appearance, but when she once again swung the glaive in a powerful arc towards him, his shield came up to block it anyway.

As the battle was joined, it quickly became clear that - while the mare was certainly competent with her heavy glaive - she was nowhere near the sort of virtuoso that the knight was with his sword and shield. Under regular circumstances, the fight between them would have been short, ugly, and fatal for the mare. But the knight was wounded, limping and exhausted, his armor hanging in tatters, and he had a brand-new gash across his back, bleeding heavily into what was left of his breastplate. In his current state, the two were fairly evenly matched, and the mare seemed well-rested... suggesting that the fight would only tip further in her favor as it went on.

But of course, with the knight's back now turned to him, Blake could finish the duel... fast. He half-drew another breath, readying a gout of flame that would consume the worryingly stubborn knight... then held it back, letting the breath back out with a gasp. If he let his fire swallow the knight, it would wash over the mare, too. And she wasn't even wearing anything one could call armor - just a stout leather jerkin, which might blunt an incoming arrow or reduce the impact of a club, but certainly wouldn't stand much of a chance against a knight's sword - let alone dragonfire. She'd probably saved his life, jumping in when she did - why, he could not fathom - and even now, she was risking her life fighting for him. Maybe Anitra was just rubbing off on him, but...

Two voices rose above the din, chanting in an unfamiliar language. Blake's head swiveled, and found the origin - those two oddly-dressed women. They were close to the central melee now, and were both waving short sticks with zig-zagging strips of paper attached to one end, while reciting some kind of chant. A glow was growing around them, one he recognized as being 'holy' power. The divine arts of the Cleric. A blinding light suddenly shone from the chest of the blond woman, bathing the battlefield... and suddenly, fallen knights were bouncing back to their feet, shaking off dogs that had held them down so far.

Simultaneously the barbarian, who had been on the defensive for a while, renewed his offensive, pushing Kain back with a flurry of blows. Blake snarled. Clerics. There really was no more dangerous class of adventurers. Fortunately, it seemed that the paladin was too far away to be affected by the light - at least, the mare still seemed to be keeping up with him. But things had definitely taken a turn for the worse...

Anitra watched her death approach, shaking the earth as it charged at her. Then, just as Aelia was lifting her spear to deliver one last doomed strike... the earth collapsed underneath the trampling feet of the brown dragon, swallowing it whole as it cried out in surprise. Anitra and Aelia both gaped at the suddenly-appeared sinkhole, which extended to within inches of Aelia's armored boots. Two angry roars could be heard from the hole, resonating off the rock - one was the deep bellow of a confused and angry dragon, the other had a strange, vibrating quality to it. And like so many other things that day, it seemed oddly familiar.

Lifting her body up to peek over the edge of the hole, she saw flashes of orange, chitinous armor as a fast-moving creature attacked the captured dragon only to then swiftly disappear back into the ground before it could counter. No... not orange, she decided. Umber. It had to be him. Few creatures could have dug a pit directly under a charging beast with such speed, and the Umber Hulk was one of them. So another old friend had joined the battle, saving her life in the nick of time.

Glancing up again, however, she wondered how long that would last. The guy on the blue dragon was still up there, ranting something about 'illegal use of Dig'. Her eyes moved to Aelia, who was still standing in front of her with her spear at the ready, looking confused. "Hey, Aelia, snap out of it!" The red-haired warrior blinked and nodded, turning to offer her arm again, but Anitra shook her head. "No... that guy on the dragon up there needs to be put down. Fast. You can do that, right?"

Aelia followed Anitra's eyes to the blue dragon soaring in the air above them, her eyes narrowing speculatively. "Hm. Yes, I can do that. But..." Anitra shook her head. "No buts. If he starts strafing the battlefield with that blue, we're all cooked. Go! I'll be fine." Aelia looked crestfallen, but reluctantly nodded and turned around again. Then she broke into a run in the direction of the blue dragon and its rider, and the huge, red gemstone set into her ribcage beginning to glow as her voice rang out across the battlefield. "My soul burns! My power has awakened!" Then, as she leapt into the air, her form grew indistinct and blurry - and grew massively.

Her draconic form did not truly resemble any race of dragon Anitra had heard of. It was massively proportioned and muscled, with human-like arms ending in immense claws, and a clumsy, lantern-jawed face filled with mismatched fangs. Its huge, batlike wings were ragged around the edges, and rather than scales it was covered in thick, veiny, flesh-colored hide. In its chest, the gemstone - now a deep purple - was shining, throbbing veins leading from it into the massive beast's extremities. It looked unfinished, like an early prototype of a dragon... but it also looked undeniably dangerous as its wings clumsily carried it up towards the far more elegant blue dragon. The spiky-haired man on the blue's back gasped as he saw it, cried out "A shiney!" and directed his steed towards it with a wave of his lance.

Just then, a burst of shining light behind Anitra drew her attention back towards the priestesses she'd been targeting all along, and she swore loudly as she realized that they'd already gotten into position. Even now, Silver's dogs were being thrown back as the knights rallied. Eyes fixed on the priestesses, she noticed what seemed like a small argument between them, though carried out in an unfamiliar tongue. The blond one looked sad and worried, but the brunette's eyes were hard as flint, and her voice was determined. Then a crescent-shaped light flared on the dark-haired girl's back, and a simple-looking longbow appeared in her hand. In one smooth movement, she'd aimed it towards the sky above the central melee where the now-reinforced knights were fighting Silver Fang's dogs of war, and drawn it - a silvery arrow appearing magically on the string as she did so.

She let it fly, and the sunlight darkened as if twilight had suddenly appeared. Then, a whistling sound could be heard as dozens of arrows rained from the sky above the fighting, clanging harmlessly off of the knights' armor... and raising yelps and barks of pain from the unarmored canines. Gritting her teeth, Anitra began to force herself to stand up, pain in the leg be damned - she needed to stop them, now! But something was niggling in the back of her head. Wait. The arrow in her leg was gone, leaving only a bleeding gap... where'd it go?

A flash of motion out the corner of her eye prompted her to bring up her arm, just in time to deflect the incoming arrow from her heart - causing it instead to lodge itself painfully in her collarbone. Grunting in pain, she fell back on her haunches and one again let her eyes seek out the remote archer who'd tagged her leg in the first place. He was standing exactly where he had been all along, apparently not having moved an inch while she'd been dealing with the brown dragon. His bow was still raised, and as he drew back the string, she saw a black arrow appear between his fingers - and, at the same time, disappearing from her collarbone.

As he let the arrow fly again, however, a lithe, black-cloaked from stepped in front of Anitra and lifted one ash-gray hand in a warding gesture. A partly-opaque wall appeared in front of them, only to shatter like glass as the black arrow hit it. The impact, however, had stopped the arrow's flight, and it was now whirling backwards through the air... only to disappear and once again appear on the strange archer's bowstring.

But when again the twang of a released bowstring sang between the rocks, it didn't come from him - and from the distance, a meaty *thuck* could be heard as a broad-bladed arrow sunk into the archer's right shoulder. The dour-looking man swore, face suddenly animated, and his arrow went wild as he spun around to face his attacker. Between the crags, boulders and scraggly mountain trees to his right, a glimmer of gray fur could be seen as said attacker disappeared into cover. The archer glanced back in her direction once, then looked down at the arrow sticking from his shoulder. Without a word, he then jumped down from his vantage-point and pursued his assailant out of sight.

Anitra and her mysterious protector both breathed a sigh in relief. Looking up the back of her latest enigmatic ally, Anitra realized that she already knew who it was. A shapely buttock was visible even through the loose, black cloak, and the lithe figure was unmistakably elvish. Add that to the gray skin, and she knew who she was dealing with before the woman lowered her hood to reveal pointy ears and long, ghostly-white hair... and certainly before she turned around to smile down at Anitra with that ephemerally-beautiful face.

"Long time no see, Your Imperial Highpriestesness!" The High Priestess of Lolth, supreme ruler of the Drow Elves, smiled and nodded as she kneeled by her side. "Indeed - it has been too long, noble DragonRider." A look of barely-restrained longing was visible on the ageless face as the priestess gently touched the wound on Anitra's collarbone, soothing magic flowing from it to heal the damage. This was quickly repeated on her leg, after which the drow priestess began pouring a light veil of healing magic all over the battered left side of her body.

Placing her hand over the priestess' outstretched arm, Anitra shook her head and gently pushed it away. "No, don't bother fixing that. Save your healing juice for more serious injuries. The elf nodded, pulling her arm back with some hesitation. "Whatever you wish, DragonRider." With a grunt, Anitra got to her feet, feeling fit for a fight for the first time in a while, and glanced around. There was no sign of a cadre of dark elf bodyguards, let alone an entire imperial army, descending to assist their leader. There was probably a story there, but this wasn't the time to ask for it. Aware of the girl's silent presence at her side, and feeling confident that she'd assist her in any way she could, she focused her attention on the priestesses again.

However, it seemed that things were taking care of themselves over there. While she'd been busy trying not to get an arrow through her eye, and then getting healed, a towering minotaur had appeared over there, wielding one of the heavy, double-bladed battle-axes his kind was known for. He was fighting the pirate now, stalking after the nimble little man while seemingly ignoring the many surface cuts he'd received from the garishly-dressed fellow's sword. She didn't even bother being surprised by the realization that, rather than being just any old minotaur, it was clearly Minos from the Valley of Wonder. Considering how inseparable he was from his partner Lupus, that presumably explained the flash of gray fur that had dealt with her archer-problem.

Behind him, the two priestesses were engaged with a problem of their own - two women with insect-like wings, clad in tight-fitting black leather, one wielding a whip while the other had a rapier in her hand. Fairies. HUMAN-SIZED fairies, however THAT worked. Specifically, it was clearly Pfil and Pamila, her two friends from the Forest of Fairies. Anitra was starting to feel a bit dazed. How had this nondescript plateau in the middle of a relatively insignificant mountain-range turned into such a massive crossroads for people she'd met on her travels? What were they all DOING here?

Feeling oddly detached, she watched the pirate draw Minos away from the priestesses, dancing around and hurling insults at the big guy. His hands were moving very quickly, the flashing blade in his hand drawing attention... then, as Minos took another step forwards to swing his axe at the much smaller man, his hooves slipped and his legs disappeared under him. Several small, round marbles could be seen flying into the air as he fell on his face, and the pirate laughed loudly as he leaped forwards and stabbed his blade into the bulky minotaur's back.

Anitra winced as she saw how deep it bit... but Minos was clearly not out of the game yet, roaring in pain as he awkwardly swung his axe upwards to force his attacker back. His sheer bulk had prevented the blade from finding anything vital, but the wound was bleeding heavily. Grabbing the drow priestess next to her by the shoulder - noticing as she did so how pleasantly pliable the girl was, instantly following her touch - she pointed towards the fight. "Told ya there'd be worse injuries to heal. That minotaur's a friend of mine - go, heal him! And when you're done with that, check on the dogs fighting in the central area - I'm pretty sure several of them are injured. Help where you can."

The priestess nodded eagerly, biting her lip, and while she seemed hesitant to leave Anitra's side, she nonetheless dashed off to fulfill her orders. This left Anitra standing amidst a chaotic battlefield made up of several smaller confrontations, with no idea of what SHE should do. The priestesses seemed to be taken care of for now - they were putting up a fight, but without the pirate protecting them, they couldn't match the two battle-hardened fairies, and they were certainly too busy to support the other troops. And Silver Fang had renewed his offensive against the reinvigorated knights, bouncing back and forth between boulders and rock walls like a silver bolt of lightning, tearing through the armor of a knight on every pass.

Concentrating briefly, she opened the mental communication-channel she shared with Blake, while turning to check in on the fights taking place on her other side. Blake, my love - how fares the battle on your side of the field? Do you need my help over there? The black dragon's reply sounded more bemused than anything. It's going quite well over here, actually. An unexpected acquaintance showed up to help, and that vampiric friend of yours is pushing the shouty barbarian back on his heels again. Anitra grinned. Seemed like things were going well!

Aelia - in her brutish dragon-form - was handling her end quite handily too. The blue dragon had tumbled from the sky with two broken wings, courtesy of the dragon-like abomination's enormous claws. It was now ground-bound, holding off its attacker with a combination of fiery breath and its rider's glowing lance - but it clearly couldn't carry on much longer. And in the gaping hole between them and Anitra, it sounded like the Umber Hulk was still confounding and tormenting the brown dragon by using his digging-abilities to hit it with repeated hit-and-run attacks.

But just as Aelia's monstrous dragon-form reared up to bring its claws down on the blue dragon's neck, an almost achingly pure voice rang out across the battlefield. "Noooo!" Both Anitra and Aelia froze in their tracks for a split second as they followed the sound to its origin... a young girl with reddish-brown hair, wearing a simple peasant dress... sprinting towards the fighting dragons with remarkable speed, her hair whirling behind her like a flag. As she half-tumbled to a halt right behind the blue dragon and its rider, Anitra noticed that she was carrying a harp... and then, still gasping for breath, the girl began to play.

Sweet, crisp notes filled the air, seemingly pushing the noise of battle around them away. Then the girl lifted her voice to add her own notes, and all other sounds became unimportant. Her voice was crisp, clean, and soared effortlessly to weave a wordless song around the harp's notes. The Aelia-Dragon stumbled back, shaking its huge head as if trying to shake off an annoying bug. The blue dragon, meanwhile, raised itself to its full height, determination burning in its eyes as if the pain of its broken wings were entirely forgotten. A sudden, surprised roar could be heard from the deep hole that had claimed the brown dragon, and moments later said dragon was clawing its way out of it, and dashing towards the other two dragons to join the fight.

Anitra herself felt the noise hit her like a blackjack to the head. Her head felt fuzzy and unclear. Vaguely, she realized that THIS girl was the one who had turned those two dragons against their own kind, controlling them somehow... the loud-mouthed fellow with the lance was just the one who led them into battle. That girl had to be stopped - silenced! But even as the thought occurred to her, she felt her muscles freezing in protest. It was such a beautiful tune... she couldn't silence that. She just couldn't...

For several minutes, the song held her transfixed, and Aelia seemed little better off, barely managing to fend off the two dragons that were now ganging up on her - and only because both of them were wounded from their earlier struggles. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the sung ended... with a shriek as the ground disappeared under the girl's feet, sending her plunging into a newly formed hole. The resulting silence was deafening, until the more remote sounds of the other, still-ongoing battles reasserted themselves and broke the spell. With a roar, the dragon that was Aelia renewed her offensive, driving back the two other dragons, who seemed to have lost a lot of their nerve with the ending of the song.

Released from her paralysis, Anitra gasped and shook her head, clearing it of the cobwebs that had clung to it since the music started. She'd never seen - or rather, heard - a power like that before... but apparently, it only affected dragons, and the Umber Hulk had dealt with it now. Aelia seemed to have the rest of that corner of the battlefield well in hand, too.

On the other hand, the battle between the black-cloaked magus and Lezard Valeth seemed to have ground to a standstill - if not actually turning in the magus' favor. Lezard's huge skeleton was crumbling under his feet, more and more pieces being knocked off of it or smashed to bone-dust by arcane explosions, while every attack launched by the necromancer or his construct were contemptuously blocked by the magus' seemingly impregnable shield.

That, she decided, was the place to intervene. Certainly, that Gryphon Staff of his was a threat, but he was clearly fully engaged in his duel. If she could sneak up behind him, her sword should be able to shatter that magical shield of his, leaving him open to Lezard's attacks. With that in mind, she stealthily started towards him, sword in hand... only to see a shadow out the corner of her eye, moving rapidly towards her. Instinctively, she jumped back, and watched an immense, obsidian-black sword crash into the ground where she'd just been standing, leaving a small crater.

The person wielding it was massive, covered in muscles and scars. Obviously feminine curves could be seen through the silvery chainmail shirt she was wearing, but there was nothing feminine about the mass of scars and burns that covered her face, or about the rough, gravelly voice that whispered from between her lips. "Damn weaklings... can't do anything properly. Gotta do everything myself."

And yet, Anitra recognized her immediately. "Mom?!?" Arthenia the Amazon made a grimace that might have been a grin, as she hefted the enormous obsidian sword onto her shoulder and turned to face her. "Hah. You would still call me that, abomination? My daughter has been dead for years. Killed by a black dragon. That her corpse still walks and draws breath is merely proof of the dark power wielded by those fell fiends." In a flash, she was a step further forwards, swinging the huge sword in a broad, horizontal arc. Anitra's hands moved almost of their own accord, bringing BlackFire up to block it, which it did... but even as sparks flew from the meeting of the two black blades, the sheer weight and power of the blow threw Anitra sideways, lifting her feet from the ground.

Readjusting her weight in mid-air, she landed in a sideways roll and was on her feet again in a split second, sword at the ready. But Arthenia did not seem to be in any hurry to follow up. She was walking calmly towards her daughter, sword in hand and a grin on her scarred face - moving with absolute confidence. And Anitra could understand why. Nevermind that huge, black sword, and the potent magical aura around it - her armor was, if she was not mistaken, Mithril - and heavily enchanted to boot. And, of course, behind it all was the immense strength and skill of Arthenia the Amazon - one of the most feared and revered heroes of her generation.

Last time the two had fought, Anitra had destroyed her mother with her bare hands. But at the time, she'd been floating on the greatest 'high' on her life - her first and strongest Quickening, brought about by her initial transformation into a DragonRider. She'd been more dragon than human - swift, powerful, ruthless. And Arthenia had been unprepared, dumbfounded by the assault. This time, neither of those things were true. Arthenia was currently more dangerous, and quite likely a lot more insane, than ever before in her career... a veteran hero with immense combat experience and the charisma to rally the most powerful band of dragon-hunting heroes the world had ever seen to her side.

Meanwhile, Anitra had a couple of years worth of adventuring experience, with significant portions of that time spent as a slave to drow elves and/or centaurs. Oh, she had some fancy armor and an even fancier sword, as well as marginally supernatural strength, speed and agility. But between the obsidian greatsword and the mithril chainshirt, Arthenia had her at least matched in the first category, and judging by the way she was wielding the colossal blade, Anitra's lead in the later was narrow indeed. All this, Anitra was entirely aware of. Even as a child, when she'd hated her mother for trying to push her into becoming a warrior, and for embarrassing her by being at the center of so much gossip, she'd never questioned her strength or doubted her near-invincibility.

"Once I'm through with you, abomination, your master will be next... I'll send him back to the abyss like I've sent so many others of his infernal kind." Arthenia's voice was hissing out from between her teeth as she stalked forwards, sword at the ready, and Anitra steeled herself. The outcome of the battle was still hanging in the balance. If Arthenia started running rampant across the battlefield, things would sour in a hurry... and her beloved Blake would be the next target. She couldn't back down or run away now. And she couldn't call to anyone else for aid.

Now, at last, she understood what the last trial meant... to face herself. To face the mother she'd once hated for petty, childish reasons, and then destroyed in a haze of Quickening-induced lust and ruthlessness. That night had changed her completely, but she had not been the only one. While she'd spent the last couple of years having glorious adventures and indulging a newfound love, her mother had rallied an army and embarked on a quest for bloody vengeance. In the end, even for dragons - and their riders - actions had consequences. And now, she had to face them.

Gathering all the skill and strength she'd picked up in her travels - the instinctive ferocity she drew from her draconic blood, and the sophisticated swordplay she had learned from fighting powerful opponents - she threw herself forwards to meet her mother, sword against sword. Repeatedly they clashed, every impact making Anitra's hands go numb, and often making her sandals skid several inches backwards across the ground. She was not entirely without advantages. Arthenia was a massive, muscular beast of a human - she had to be, to wield that enormous sword. But while she did so with great skill, inertia still had its say. She could only swing so fast, and changing the direction of a swing was nigh-impossible. With her light, slim blade and lithe frame, Anitra could dash through her mother's superior range after a missed swing, and deliver a blow of her own.

But even as she connected once, twice, thrice, the effects were negligible. Two of the blows hit the mithril chain-shirt and were turned away in a shower of sparks, the magical runes that covered it barely flickering as the anti-magical blade bit at them. The third was aimed more tactically - at the Amazonian warrior's left arm, biting deep enough to grind against the bone. But Arthenia seemed barely to notice, swinging her sword with the same mighty power even as the gash on her arm sent droplet of blood flying in all directions.

Finally, an upwards sweep of the greatsword threw Anitra off balance as she jumped back to avoid getting her jaw split, and when Arthenia swiftly reversed her grip on the sword to bring it down again in a crushing overhand blow, she couldn't dodge. Knowing that it was a losing proposition, she brought up her blade in a guard with her left hand resting against the flat of it to brace herself. The shock of the impact traveled through her entire body, causing her knees to instantly give in and her arms to wobble dangerously. Even as Arthenia drew back the sword for another blow, Anitra could feel that she was barely holding on to her sword - and that she could neither dodge fast enough, nor block another such blow.

But then a black shadow passed overhead, and Arthenia became the one to dodge - rapidly rolling to the side as a large, black claw came down where she'd just been standing with earth-shaking force. Sweatdrops rolling down her forehead, Anitra looked up at the love of her life, Blake, to find him grinning down at her from where he'd landed. "Blake..." she gasped. "Watch out... that sword of hers was clearly MADE for killing dragons. If she gets a swing at you..." But Blake shook his head, a twisted smile on his lips. "No, Anitra. We made a deal, remember? We face this together. Besides, I've just about missed out on this whole battle - and even though my wings may still be too weak to carry me for more than a second or two at a time, I can certainly still fight..."

Side by side, they turned to face Arthenia, who was unhurriedly picking herself up and hefting her blade again. "So... black devil... we meet again." She hissed, and Blake nodded. "So we do indeed. I assume you're the one who killed Inferand - you wouldn't be alive otherwise. He was a friend of mine, you know. Perhaps my only friend." His voice was calm, but Anitra could hear the strain underneath it. Arthenia just barked a laugh. "Friend? Hellspawn like you cannot know such a concept. Aye, I sent that red demon back to the abyss, the first of many. And now, I'll send you... and get revenge for both my own suffering, and the death of my daughter at your hand!"

She was dashing forwards at incredible speed, the obsidian blade dragging its tip in the dirt by her side. Blake jumped nimbly to the right, using the ground-fighting moves he'd hurriedly developed during his struggle with a possessed Anitra not long ago, and weaving a spell at the same time. Anitra, silently coordinating with him over their mental link, dodged to the left at the same time. Before Arthenia could reach Blake, a cone of sub-zero air emerged from Blake's claws, freezing the very air around the onrushing Amazon. Hopefully, he thought, her defenses would be weighted towards fire-resistance, since she was geared for fighting dragons...

But Arthenia had fought black dragons before... and her travels had also taken her far enough north to raid the nests of the nimble White Dragons that lived in those icy lands, their breath a freezing blizzard rather than a roaring inferno. And the spells of her chain-shirt was layered accordingly, designed to stop anything and everything a dragon might throw at her. The deadly chill passed over her, leaving nothing but a rapidly-melting layer of rime on the mithril chain-links.

As soon as she was within range, her blade was whirling in deadly arcs - but Blake was using his head, so to speak. Or rather, his agile and slender neck. Reaching his head forwards, he dared her to attack it or risk his bite, and when she took the bait, he could move it out of harm's way far faster than he could've moved his whole body. Anitra, meanwhile, had circled around them and was now rushing straight towards the Amazon's back with her sword at the ready.

Even this quickly-arranged pincer-attack, however, failed to deter Arthenia - or even worry her noticeably. Anitra's first lunge at her back was contemptuously swept aside by a whirling swing of the obsidian greatsword, only for her to continue that swing towards Blake's head when he sought to seize the opportunity to strike. With enemies on both sides, she was turning the blade's enormous mass into an advantage, spinning like a deadly dervish as she kept them both at bay.

Blake reared back, roaring in pain as the sword finally swept a bit too close. The black blade sliced across the left side of his face, missing his eyeball by a hair's breadth as it cut open the scaly ridge above it - and continued to hack through his left horn, severing the tip entirely. It was an instinctive response to the pain, but hardly a wise move. As his head lifted, pulling away from the whirling blade, his chest was left exposed - and Arthenia didn't hesitate to seize the opportunity. Blade still in motion, she leaped forwards with a swing that would sever his breast-bone and cut his heart neatly in halves.

But Anitra wasn't about to allow that. The blood was thumping in her ears, and she could feel her sword vibrate in her hands - whether from the many powerful blows it had absorbed, or because it was responding to the intensity of her feelings. Dashing after her mother, she took advantage of her smaller frame, accelerating fast enough to leave imprints in the hard ground beneath them, closing the distance. She knew she couldn't count on her blade piercing the mithril shirt, and the unprotected back of Arthenia's head was too small a target to reliably hit on the move. So instead, she simply tackled her, smashing her shoulder into the towering warrior's lower back with all the force she could manage.

Arthenia stumbled forwards from the attack and, acting on the well-honed instinct of a veteran warrior, spun on her feet to meet the attack. Her back hit Blake's scaly chest, stabilizing her, and she quickly raised her blade to meet her daughter's. But this time, when the two black swords collided, Anitra's lighter sword wasn't just swept aside as it had been before. Determination was burning in the sky-blue reptilian eyes as Anitra let her body absorb the full force of the obsidian blade's blow, refusing to let it move her. The two blades ground against each other, throwing up sparks until their hilts met, matching strength against strength.

Across these crossed blades, Anitra and Arthenia faced each other, eyes afire. Arthenia's burned with anger, lust for vengeance, and bone-deep madness. Anitra's burned with something far deeper: Her love for Blake, and a determination born of the identity she'd built for herself over the course of her travels. She was a DragonRider - at home on a dragon's back high in the sky, or below a dragon's belly, writhing on the ground in pleasure. The petty, fashion-obsessed girl who'd once resented her mother's behavior had, indeed, been dead for a long time. The new Anitra held no hatred for the broken woman facing her now - if anything, she felt guilty for the pain she'd inflicted on her in the throes of the Quickening. But she could not allow her to kill her beloved Blake. Everything she was, everything she'd become, forbade it.

BlackFire flickered into flame for the second time that day. Normally, the flames were reddish-orange, the same as Blake's fiery breath. This time, they were pure white, creating a stark contrast with the black greatsword it was pressed against... and at its touch, the obsidian began to crumble. Arthenia had only just enough time to gape in disbelief as the mighty blade that had felled so many dragons in her hand, fell apart between her fingers. The unbreakable obsidian fragmented, sending razor-sharp shards flying in all directions. And with the blade out of the way, BlackFire - its name now quite ironic - continued in its path, cutting across her chest, melting the mithril chain-shirt that had so easily deflected dragonfire before.

Then the blade reached its target, and Arthenia the Amazon was no more.

The mighty hero's fall seemed to send a shockwave rippling across the battlefield. Near the spot that Blake had just vacated, St. George felt an odd tightening in his chest as fatigue caught up with him, and he stumbled forwards just as his equine opponent brought down her glaive, severing his head. Not far away, the man known only as Dohvakiin roared in pain as the enchantments binding his shield together finally disintegrated, leaving Kain's mighty sword to slice through the iron - and his arm - like they were butter. He had little time to mourn the loss of his hand, however, as Kain swiftly followed up the strike by ramming his blade clear through the barbarian's body. "Vae Victis!" whispered the ageless vampire into his ear as he breathed his last.

At the center of the battlefield, the harried Mimbrate Knights finally lost their nerve - few of their number remained alive, and now they gave up fighting and tried desperately to escape. None did, as Silver Fang's godlike speed quickly closed the distance and put them out of their misery. Nearby, the twin Priestesses of the Godless Month watched as she barrier they'd erected to protect themselves from the two Faerie Hunters was broken down by the ashen-skinned Drow Priestess who had joined them, and even as Chikane brought up her bow for a desperate last attack, she found it torn from her hands by a black whip as Pamila closed in. When Himeko then found herself with the tip of Pfil's rapier pointed at her throat, the two were left with no other choice but to comply with the fairy's impassionate plea that they surrender.

On the other side of the battlefield, Raistlin threw another thunderbolt at Lezard's immense skeleton, shattering several of its vertebrae. But even as the monster collapsed, only barely holding itself up on what was left of its arms, a high-pitched tone resonated from his staff. A glance told him that the crystal ball at its tip was cracking - unable to hold up under the magical energies he'd been channeling through it over the course of the battle. Worse, his opponent had heard it too. Lezard laughed maniacally, the Unicorn's Horn in his hand glowing brightly as it channeled his magical might without trouble. "Lo! Thee shall look upon the calamities of heresy with beclouded eyes! PETRO DISRUPTION!" Lezard's voice rang clear, and underneath him the giant skeleton shuddered, steam suddenly venting from its shoulder-blades. Then a pale green cloud of acidic vapor emerged from its mouth, blanketing the area in front of it, leaving Raistlin with no alternative but to raise his shield again... but as the tide of magical acid burned around it, the crystal on his staff cracked again, then exploded into fragments... followed immediately by his shield. When the cloud of acid cleared, there was nothing left of him but a few threads of black fabric and the acid-worn remnants of a broken staff.

A bit further away, the monstrous dragon that Aelia had become finally found the opening she'd been looking for, as the two dragons she was fighting rallied close together under Lance's order. Channeling all her power into the gem on her chest, she unleashed the arcane energies that had maintained her draconic form in a single blast of magical force, the beam cutting down through the air to tear through the erstwhile beastmaster's chest. "But... I am... the Champion..." he gasped as his body turned to ashes and scattered on the breeze. The blue dragon roared in pain as the beam cut through its hindquarters, but the pain was short-lived. As Aelia transformed back into human form - suspended in midair above them - the Great Spear Dinosaur was again in her hand. As she fell, she swung it around her body, decapitating the blue - before landing point-first on top of the brown, driving the blade into its vitals with all her weight.

Quite some distance away, Bard the Bowman felt a sudden sense of disquiet. He'd been playing cat-and-mouse with this strange wolf for a while now, dodging and dashing amongst boulders, trees and canyons - and while he'd gotten a few more scratches, it hadn't managed to get any solid hits in on him since the first. Despite the pain in his shoulder, he could still draw his bow, and he felt confident that it was only a matter of time before he finally got a clear shot at the agile thing. So why was he suddenly filled by a feeling of impending doom?

The sound of booted feet dashing across the rocks drew his attention and he swirled towards the origin, drawing his bow - only to relax the string again as he saw the origin. Jack Sparrow, the garishly-dressed pirate, wasn't likely to be mistaken for anyone else, ever. "Ahoy there, matey... watch where you point that thing, won't you?" The pirate pointed at his bow while he slid down an incline and walked towards him in that aggravatingly mincing fashion he seemed to do everything. With an annoyed sigh, Bard turned the bow back towards the copse of scraggly mountain-trees where he'd last spotted the wolf. "What are you doing here, Sparrow? Weren't you supposed to be guarding the priestesses? Or are you here to tell me the battle's already over?"

"Well, yes... I reckon it's over, all right." Bard felt a sudden strange coolness spread through his chest. Looking down, he saw about a foot worth of blood-stained steal sticking out of it. Looking up again, his eyes sought Jack Sparrow's, and he tried to say "Why?" - but all that came out of his mouth was a spurt of blood. With a gentle hand on his shoulder, the pirate helped him sit down. "Don't take this the wrong way, matey - it's just that, well, it seems like this little crusade has come to a very timely end indeed." Jack continued talking while he pulled his blade out of Bard's body, casually cleaning it off on the archer's tunic before sheathing it. "So it's time for me to turn my sails elsewhere, savvy? And I'd rather not have to argue about the division o' the plunder. And also, I REALLY don't want you coming after me for desertion in the face o' the enemy, or whatnot. I've seen what kind of shot you are, and I'd rather not have your arrows making any holes in my hat. So really, you should think of this as a compliment."

Then, reflecting that the dour bowman had probably missed most of the compliment, Jack Sparrow got back on his feet and continued towards the camp... where, he knew, two young and very naïve Mimbrate knights were guarding not just HIS share of the treasure, but everyone else's too. Judging from the way the battlefield had been looking when he left - and wasn't it a good thing that it was a minotaur that had come after HIM, and not something a bit swifter? - chances were none o' them would have much of a chance to spend it anyway. Well, he'd do a toast to their memory when he got the plunder to town.

The motley band of creatures, monsters and more-or-less human individuals who had won the battle had gathered on a plateau just below the battlefield - away from all the corpses a bit. Along with them were three prisoners - the two priestesses who had surrendered to the Fairy Hunters, and the red-haired songstress. The Umber Hulk had emerged from his tunnels with her unconscious form slung over his shoulder after the end of the battle, but she was awake by now - gagged, obviously - and looking quite terrified. The two priestesses were merely tied up - and surrounded.

Anitra had taken the time to greet all of her friends - which she'd call them all without reservation after today - in turn, including Minos and Lupus when they arrived, a bit later, looking somewhat shamefaced. Minos looked rather crestfallen to admit that the pirate had scampered once things turned sour, outmaneuvering him easily - while Lupus embarrassedly confessed that the archer he'd lured into the woods had somehow wound up dead without his assistance. He'd hid from the bowman's arrows for a bit, heard some footsteps and quiet talking, and then spotted the guy again - dead, with a gaping chest-wound.

With a round of thank-yous out of the way, however, the question had to be asked... "What brought you all here?" Kain grinned oddly when she asked, but all the others gave different, and increasingly strange reasons. "I was in the neighborhood looking for new work after the Unicorns canceled our contract... heard that you were around from some wild dogs, thought I'd look you up to see how you were doing. Found you in the middle of a fight, and decided to lend a paw." Silver Fang's claim seemed quite simple, except that he couldn't really explain WHY he'd decided to lead his dogs to this remote place while looking for mercenary work.

"Well, like I told you earlier, I figured out that Lezard was behind the theft of my Creation Gem, and when I found out I couldn't get it back, I had him repay his debt by guiding me here... I, well, kind of wanted to see you again. We didn't really get much of a chance to talk... last time." Aelia blushed somewhat as she gave her reasons, but they seemed straightforward enough, and Lezard confirmed that he'd used a spell to track her via the documents he'd given her when they last met. "It was easy." He stated diffidently. "Almost too easy, really..." His grin seemed to oddly mirror Kain's.

Lupus, Minos and the Umber Hulk had arrived together, as it turned out - from the Valley of Wonder. The Umber Hulk had arrived there some time ago, on her recommendation, and had told them of his meeting with her in the Drow's arenas. "We were worried - y'know, wondering if you'd managed to get away and all? And, well, we both decided that we needed to take a peek at the outside world. Just as a little trip. And he wanted to come along to thank you properly for helping him escape from that arena." Which made sense, but when she asked them how they'd found her, they could only shrug. "We were kinda' searching at random, I suppose... but we just kind of had a feeling you'd be around here, maybe?"

The Umber Hulk even had his own twist on it. "The earth told me you were here. It was as a whisper in its vibrations." She grinned at him, remembering their past meeting and all the fun she'd had with his vibration-sense - her eyes sweeping naturally to where the drow priestess stood. "By the way..." she then said to him "We were kind of in a hurry last time, so I never even caught your name?" The hulking monster shrugged all four of his shoulders. "My kind have no need for names. Call me whatever you like." To this, she grinned, having already thought of one. "Well, in that case, your name will be Umberto. Nice to see you again, Umberto!" Umberto groaned, covering his large, segmented eyes with his claws. "You humans and your passion for naming things..."

"Speaking of people whose names I never caught... how did you get here, horsey?" She directed her attention at the horse-girl with the glaive, who hadn't left Blake's side since the end of the battle. The girl bowed elegantly to her. "My name is Melora, my lady. I came here because... well..." She looked suddenly embarrassed, her face reddening rapidly. "I... couldn't put my lord out of my head. After he left, he kept appearing in my dreams. I had to see him again. I convinced Darcian to teach me how to use a glaive, and went out in the world to search for him. I didn't know where to look, but... somehow I wound up here. I can only assume that the gods guided me."

Blake chuckled. "Nice to know I left an impression on you... Melora. You did well today." A slight whinny of delight escaped the horse-girl's mouth as she leaned into his flank, obviously delighted by the compliment. "But now that you've found me, what is it that you wish?" Blake looked down at her, one eyebrow (the unwounded one) lifted, and she bit her lip. "All I wish for is to be by your side, my lord, and to serve you in... any way I can." She seemed to actually be shivering as she said the last bit.

The black dragon glanced over at his rider, a question passing wordlessly through their mental link. Anitra shrugged, uncertain of how to react. Then Blake glanced over at the drow priestess, and as she followed his eyes, a grin spread on her face. Receiving a mental nod from her, Blake grinned down at the filly. "We might be able to work something out in that regards, little one..." She made a sound that wasn't quite a moan, but couldn't really be called anything else either, clinging to his side. Anitra could smell the scent of her arousal from where she was standing.

Turning her back on the horse-girl, she then faced the drow elf... she looked shy and withdrawn, the hood of her black cloak raised again. As Anitra approached her, however, a slight blush crept across her face. "So, we come to you, then... I never got your name either, something about you not having one because you're just The High Priestess or whatnot?" She lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, and the elf-girl started to nod - then, halfway through, turned it into a quick headshake. "Yes... and no. It WAS true, but I am not the High Priestess anymore, so I suppose I can safely reclaim my original name. Before my ascension, I was known as Direza, noble DragonRider."

Anitra nodded. "Very well then, Direza. You certainly helped out a lot during the fight - you fixed up Minos, cracked the barrier of the priestesses... and from the sound of it, several of Silver Fang's dogs wouldn't have made it if you hadn't been there to heal them. But how'd you wind up here?" The girl was wringing her hands, looking adorably awkward... it was reminding Anitra rather forcibly of their first meeting, where she'd found the girl's awkwardness and inexperience in spite of being hundreds of years old absolutely adorable.

"Well... I... I guess you kind of opened my eyes when we met. I couldn't handle it anymore. The way my people treated you... and were treating others. I'd never thought about it before. I just had to..." she trailed off, biting her lip and refusing to meet Anitra's eyes. She laid a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. "Direza... why are you here?" The ashen skin on her face was drawn into a grimace, and quiet tears were running down her face. "I... oh, I'm sorry I lied... I just needed to see you again. NEEDED to... I couldn't sleep. Couldn't rest. Couldn't think about anything else. I ran away from it all. Came to the surface looking for you. It was... really hard. Getting used to the sun. And everyone up here hates drow elves. If I hadn't retained some of my powers as a Priestess of Lolth even after abandoning her, I would've died a dozen times over by now... but I just had to find you..."

The tears were streaming nonstop as the elf confessed, and Anitra instinctively drew her into an embrace, feeling the petite elf shake with sobs as she pressed her tear-stained face into her bosom. "There, there..." Anitra said soothingly, running a hand over the elf's bone-white hair, pushing her hood back. Then, when the sobs stopped, she grabbed her by her shoulders and held her at arm's length with a gentle smile on her face. "Look... you know already that Blake is the love of my life. That's not going to change. BUT... it seems that I've got an opening for a personal servant now." Cupping the elf's delicate chin in one hand, she lifted her head to look into her eyes, seeing a glimmer of hope there. "All you need to do is, well, do everything I say... and I'll be sure to compensate you properly."

With a girlish squeal, the centuries-old elf who had once been the high priestess and empress of an entire race, embraced Anitra. "YES! A thousand times yes! I'll do anything for you... My Lady." Patting the girl's head again, Anitra glanced over at Aelia, who was looking awkwardly down at her feet. "Sorry, Aelia... but we both know you wouldn't be interested in an arrangement like that." The red-haired warrior woman sighed, nodding shamefacedly. "I suppose... I just... I dunno. I mean, I already knew from Lezard that you wouldn't have... you know, THAT anymore." Anitra grinned and winked at her. "True, but I bet I could still show you a good time - and I fully intend to. You came to my aid, after all, and I owe you for that."

With her arms still around the elf-girl - who was sobbing with joy, now, rather than fear of rejection - she then let her glance fall on the two human-sized fairies. Pfil and Pamila. Pamila was looking at Minos in a speculative way, her fingers straying towards her crotch seemingly of their own accord. Pfil, meanwhile, was looking at Anitra and her new 'personal servant' with an 'Aww, isn't that cute' sort of expression. "So what's up with you two? You've... grown since we last met."

Pamila's attention refocused on her, and the dark-haired fairy grinned. "You could say that. Well, see, a while after you left, the Wise Woman dug up some old scroll that had a spell for making us grow to human size... apparently, digging up that tablet-piece for you got her started on looking through the really old parts of the archives. Then the Queen decided that it was time we checked up on the outside world and asked for volunteers for a long-term scouting-mission... and the two of us signed up."

Pfil nodded, smiling beatifically. "Yes... after spending so much time with you, we knew that outsiders couldn't be all bad. And we were hoping we might stumble on you again. Which we did! We're really glad we were able to help you in your fight - you helped defend our home, after all, so it was really the least we could do!" Pamila cleared her throat, looking slightly embarrassed. "Yes, well, there you have it. We were really just in the area 'cuz we'd heard that dragons lived around here and wanted to check it out. Saw a battle, noticed you in the middle of it, decided to help. Simple as that."

"Yes... all these creatures, from all these places, just happened to find their way here at this exact moment. Simple as that." Kain's voice was mocking, and he still had that annoying I-know-something-nobody-else-does look on it. Anitra raised an eyebrow at him. "Quite. So what brought the Greatest Vampire to have Ever Existed here, at this exact moment?" Kain grinned, and pointed at Blake's saddlebags with one clawed finger. "Why, the ancient and extremely potent fate-weaving spell being emitted by the artifact you've got stashed right there, of course."

Anitra glanced briefly at the saddlebag he was pointing at. Yup, that was the one Lutan's Tablet was in, all right. She sighed. "Yeah... I had my suspicions. Something like that has to take RIDICULOUS amounts of juice, though." Kain just shrugged, while the rest of the motley crew (save Lezard Valeth, she noticed) looked confused. "Obviously. I certainly couldn't do it. Most likely, whoever made that was at demi-god, possibly even an outright half-god. I know a few things about fate-manipulation magic, and no mortal could have done something like that."

Anitra fixed the ancient vampire with a penetrating look. "Well, don't take this the wrong way, please - I'm very glad you showed up, especially since you protected Blake and all - but if you knew you were being manipulated, why'd you come here anyway?" Kain returned the look with a predatory grin. "Ah, a salient question. The fact is, I need something from you, and the spell was a convenient way to locate you."

His eyes now swept across Aelia, the two hunter-fairies, the three prisoners, and the dark elf that Anitra was still holding in her arms, lust burning in his eyes and a wide grin on his face. "When we fought in that tomb, you gave me something... or rather, I took something from you. It took me a while to realize its value, but now that I'm running out, I find myself wanting to secure a continued supply." Almost involuntarily, Anitra found herself rubbing her neck where his claws had once broken her skin, and from whence her blood had been drawn by his dark magic.

He nodded. "Yes... your burning blood. It filled me with a desire I had long forgotten. I have been around for a long, long time... and frankly, I have enjoyed very little of it. Food might as well be mud in my mouth. Human blood is the only drink that can slake my thirst. But you... you gave me back the pleasures of the flesh. An enjoyable way to spend eternity." He licked his dry and pallid lips, fangs glistening. "But now... well, it's wearing off. I didn't get much back then - only half a mouthful. You can spare much more than that without danger, especially when you have a cleric by your side..." he gestured offhandedly at Direza. "So I came when the spell called. I protected the thing that is most precious to you in this world. All I ask in return is... a nice, tall drink."

His glance switched to the three girls huddled a bit to the side of the group, trying their best to be forgotten. "And... perhaps one of the prisoners. If last time is any indication, I will be consumed by lust immediately upon drinking, and more of your blood will probably only make it worse. So, seeing as I gather you'll be... busy thanking all these OTHER people who came to your aid, I'll just take one of the prisoners off your hands." The two trussed-up priestesses gasped, looking up at the elder vampire with fear in their eyes. Despite her bonds, the dark-haired one actually managed to inch herself to the side, interjecting her body between her blonde friend and the threat. The red-haired songstress, meanwhile, seemed just about petrified with panic.

"I don't know about this... even if they were enemies... I mean..." Pfil looked intensely uncomfortable, looking away from the prisoners, holding her arm. Pamila gave her a comforting hug, but her face seemed more uncertain. "Enemies, indeed..." snorted Silver Fang, stepping forwards with his fangs bared. "This black-haired one killed a dozen of my dogs, and many others are wounded. Would have died, indeed, had it not been for the dark-skinned priestess who came to our aid. She must pay the penalty for this. If not with her life, then with her body."

Lezard grinned, pushing his glasses up with one finger. "Indeed. This is the way of war. To the victor goes the spoils, and the losers pay the price... if they get to leave with their lives, they should be grateful. Am I wrong?" He cast his eyes around the assembly. Minos and Lupus looked a bit uncertain, seemingly unwilling to speak up. Umberto just nodded. "That is the way of the world, and of nature." The statement was very matter-of-fact, leaving little room to argue.

Pfil's large, blue eyes cast beckoning looks towards the other women. Melora the horse-girl just shrugged. "It is standard practice amongst my tribe as well. I have never experienced it myself, since my tribe always WON the wars, but it seems to me to be a fate infinitely preferable to dying on the battlefield." Direza, meanwhile, half-glanced over her shoulder and gave a barking half-laugh. "Well, I'M hardly one to talk about proper treatment of prisoners..."

Aelia, however, hefted her broad-bladed spear. "Well, I'M with... whoever the blond girl with the wings is. I mean, sure, they fought against us, but it was a battle! You can't blame someone for what they did in the heat of battle, and you can't just... rape them!" Kain turned a predatory grin at her, the dark blade strapped across his back suddenly very noticeable. "Oh... can't I?"

Before the tension could rise any higher, however, Blake weighted in. "I don't care about those two priestesses... but the other girl needs to die. Maybe you can't blame someone for killing enemies on a battlefield, but what SHE did wasn't 'in the heat of battle', and was far worse than merely killing." His deep green eyes were fixed on the red-haired girl, and she returned his attention with a look of undisguised terror. "She turned dragons - dragon CHILDREN - into weapons. Slaves. Brainwashed them, and made them fight their own kind. That is unforgiveable. By my hand or by another's, she WILL die for it. That power of hers is simply too dangerous to allow for any other outcome."

Aelia suddenly looked more hesitant. "Well... that voice of hers WAS... something else. I've never felt anything like that. Like I lost control of my body." She shivered, grimacing. "Okay, so maybe we can't just let her go, but..." Kain interrupted her, smiling broadly. "Well, it's settled then! I'll take her. There's no need for anyone else to get his - or her - hands dirty. And since she'd going to die anyway, well, there's really no reason why I shouldn't show her a good time first, no? A last pleasure, in lieu of a last meal. Really, I'm... quite good at it. Just ask your dear Anitra."

Anitra couldn't conceal a small grin at the memory. He had, indeed, been a skilled lover - in addition to having some very stimulating ridges. Aelia apparently noticed the smile, and with a new grimace, she reattached her spear to her back, sighing. "Fine. Whatever. 's not like I'd relish the idea of fighting friggin' KAIN over this. But those other two..." Anitra nodded quickly, an idea forming in her head as she glanced from the gentle-looking Pfil to the way the dark-haired priestess was trying to protect her partner despite the circumstances. "No worries, Aelia... I think I can arrange for things to work out to everyone's advantage. Just let me have a little chat with the two of them."

Grabbing the rope that bound the two priestesses, she dragged them a bit further away from the group, then squatted down to look them in the eye, a deliberately cruel smile on her lips. "Well, you two... you heard the chatter, I'm sure. You'll get to leave with your lives, and hopefully a lesson learned about the dangers of hunting dragons. There's just a... price to pay first. The blond one looked terrified. The dark-haired one, however, looked pissed off. "Leave Himeko alone! I swear, if ANYONE lays a finger on her, I'll hunt him down sooner or later..." Her voice was noticeably accented, but the threat was quite understandable. The blonde girl - apparently named Himeko - gasped and said something very quickly to the other girl in a foreign language, before turning to look at Anitra with an imploring expression. "Please... do not kill Chikane. She doesn't mean it. I'll... do as you say."

A short, loud argument broke out between the two of them, all in the same unknown language, and Anitra rolled her eyes. "LADIES! Quiet please. I have a suggestion..." The two fell silent, and she gave the dark-haired 'Chikane' a firm look. "You want to protect your friend no matter what? Fine. Then surrender your body. Pay the price for both of you. I'm sure they'd all prefer a WILLING participant, anyway... so, do whatever you're told, and let any man who wants it use your body as he sees fit. In return, I'll keep all of the men off of HER - you have my word."

Chikane hesitated only for a second. Then her face became blank like a mask. "Agreed." Himeko gasped, but Anitra was already moving, pulling the two apart and fastening Himeko's ropes to a nearby tree. "Excellent. Just keep in mind that if you refuse anyone, the deal's off. As long as you do everything you're told, you and your friend will be free to go once everyone's had their fill." With this, she guided the dark-haired girl back to the others.

"She has agreed that her willing participation is a fair price to pay for their lives." She announced simply, pushing the girl - whose hands were still tied behind her back - forwards into a stumbling kneel. Then, she gestured as Pfil. "Hey, Pfil, can I talk to you for a sec?" The wide-eyed Hunter Fairy nodded hesitantly, and as she approached, Anitra wrapped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her in close to whisper in her ear. "The other girl wouldn't make a deal... turns out she really hates men. Prefers girls, like you do. But you heard the guys - one of them is bound to go have his way with her once things get rolling. Unless you prevent it."

Pfil looked worried and confused, but kept her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I want to help her, but... how? Nobody seems to listen to me..." Anitra gave her a reassuring grin. "It may seem that way, but you fought in the battle too, y'know. And you and Pamila were the ones who took those two prisoner in the first place. They all know that, and respect it. So... if you were to lay claim to her, they wouldn't argue." Pfil blushed at the 'lay claim to' bit, but Anitra forged on undeterred. "Hey, I know how skilled your tongue is... I'm sure she'd enjoy it! And it's really the only way to keep the guys away from her. And if you get her to lick you too, well, it'd be even better! I know how revitalizing your 'Fairy Nectar' can be - she's had a rough day, so I'm sure she could use a pick-me-up like that." The blonde fairy looked around uncertainly, observing Kain who was already moving towards the terrified, gagged songstress, and the way Lezard leered down at the tied-up Chikane. Then she nodded, determination showing on her face. "I don't like it... but I guess it's the only way to keep her safe."

Anitra grinned behind her back as she walked towards the blonde priestess. The gentle Pfil would have been kind of a wet blanket on what was about to begin, especially since her jealous presence would have seriously curtailed Pamila's activities. This way, she was effectively neutralized, and she hadn't broken her word to Chikane, either. None of the GUYS would touch her cute little lover. Well, maybe she wouldn't see it like that, but perhaps the girl would learn some useful tricks from the experienced fairy lesbian - that might change her mind later.

With that amusing thought in mind, she turned to face her friends - and the 'cooperative' prisoner. "Well, then... without further ado, I think it's time for us to get down to what we've all been waiting for - the celebration of a battle survived. By way of the most life-affirming activity there is... so let's get down to some serious fucking, shall we?" Her naughty grin cut through the embarrassment shared by many of them, and lit the flames of desire in the rest. Anitra licked her lips, glancing up at Blake. They'd not only survived a terrifying battle, they'd also passed the last Trial. The road to the Dragon Utopia lay open before them. A celebratory orgy did, indeed, seem to be in order.

Before she could continue, however, Kain interrupted her, one hand on the bound and gagged songstress. "Before you get too... deeply involved in the celebration, I'd appreciate it if you provided me with what I need." His fangs seemed longer than usual as he smiled at her, and Anitra had to force down a jab of hesitation as she shrugged. "Of course, Kain. I told you it was no problem. Drink up!" She turned her head slightly, offering him her throat - and in a flash of inhumanly-swift motion, he took her upon the offer. An iron grip held her shoulders as his fangs closed on her neck, and she felt the twin jabs as ice-cold, piercing pain.

Then, a strange sensation of heat seemed to flood from them, and she felt herself growing light-headed and slightly dizzy. She could hear him drinking - her blood flowing down his throat in great gulps. Her fingers and toes were starting to go numb, black spots filled her vision, and her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps. An angry rumbling could be heard from above her head. Then, the two points of heat disappeared, along with the firm grip on her shoulders that had been keeping her upright, leaving her to stumble backwards into something soft and pliable.

Her vision cleared as healing energies suffused her body, and she looked up to watch Kain wipe a few stray drops of her blood off his chin with one hand. The ancient eyes were afire with hunger - but perhaps a different sort than usual. Without a word, he turned around and grabbed the red-haired captive around the throat, dragging her away from the rest of the group while his free hand seemed busy undoing his black leather belt.

"That guy was about another second from getting a claw through his throat. Shouldn't have taken that much." Blake was grousing, sharp eyes following the vampire. Anitra grinned up at him, calming his worries with a mental reassurance, then looked back to find that she was leaning on the lithe drow elf priestess even as her healing powers - which had to be running low at this point - were restoring her body and compensating for the blood-loss. She passed the girl a smile as well. "Thank you... Direza. I feel better already." The drow blushed, turning her head slightly away. "I'm happy to be able to help you... my lady."

Lezard rolled his eyes his sharp voice rising to remind them that they weren't alone. "You two are perfectly adorable... but weren't we about to get an orgy rolling or something, hmm?" Anitra lifted an eyebrow as she pushed herself forwards, standing on her own again, and approached the still-bound priestess who was kneeling silently between them. "I'm surprised you're so eager for this, Lezard... didn't you have your heart set on some other, nigh-unattainable girl?" Lezard just shrugged, no trace of shame in his face. "Oh, certainly, and I haven't given up yet... but that's more of a long-term goal, and I AM a man, after all. Sometimes, you just need to... ease the pressure."

Anitra could hardly argue with that, and with a shrug, she started ripping the elaborate ceremonial dress off of Chikane, before shoving her naked body - with bits of fabric still clinging to it - towards Silver Fang. "Well, Silver - you wanted repayment for what she did to your troops? Let 'em take it out of her themselves. I'm sure she'll be... cooperative. Silver grinned at her and grabbed her rope between his jaws, pulling at it to make her stumble along with him, leaving the others behind as they started drifting apart into several self-contained, lust-driven little groups. A look of consternation broke through the stoic priestess' mask as she saw what he was leading her towards - a collection of tough pine-trees, no more than a couple dozen yards away, where Silver Fang's soldiers had been waiting while their leader did the talking. After all, while their leader possessed human-like intelligence, they were mainly just a pack of particularly well-disciplined dogs, driven by instinct and led by a charismatic alpha.

And now, their alpha was telling them that a bitch was being made available to them. All of them. Without any constraints. Many of the dogs had been part of Silver's forced since before Everspring Forest, and dimly remembered something like that happening before, their bright-red canine cocks emerging from their sheaths as arousal took hold of them. But even as she saw the sea of horny hounds surrounding her, Chikane didn't quail or resist. When Silver released the rope and told her to get to her knees and bend over, she complied without hesitation.

As Silver Fang, by his right as Alpha, mounted her as the first, she did not resist. His veiny cock was already glistening with precum, and her pussy-lips parted easily before it. As it pushed deeper, it met a brief resistance and then tore through it. Her cherry broken, her virginity stolen, Chikane made not a noise. She simply kneeled there, legs spread as directed, feeling the heat of the canine cock radiation inside her most private place. Ever since meeting Himeko, and giving her heart wholly to preserving that girl's brilliant smile, she'd believed that she'd stay a virgin forever. Now, hoping to preserve that selfsame smile, she was discarding it without a second thought.

But even if her mind was focused on stoically accepting her fate, her body could not help but respond to what was happening. Silver Fang's tool wasn't overly large - it wasn't stretching her virgin pussy overmuch, or inflicting any pain beyond the brief, sharp jab of her torn maidenhood. The feeling of its throbbing, heat-radiating girth deep inside of her, however, was sending new and unfamiliar sensations rocketing through her. She and Himeko were lovers, yes, because they loved each other... but they hadn't done much, physically, to each other.

Himeko was innocent in many ways, easily embarrassed... and considering the way their 'first time' together had worked out, Chikane hadn't wanted to pressure her into anything she wasn't comfortable with. As such, their lovemaking so far had consisted entirely of what some might have called 'petting' - lots of kissing, tongues caressing each other's nipples, fingers gently stimulating each other's wet slits... nothing beyond that. And however much Chikane had wanted to bury her tongue between Himeko's shapely thighs, or watch her blond friend do the same to her, she hadn't wanted to push it. The simple pleasure they took in each other's company, and the eroticism of their naked bodies pushing together was more than enough.

But what she was feeling now was something more... primal. Something her body knew, understood, and reacted to. The pleasure was undeniable, and even as her labia stretched slightly to accommodate the small bulge at the base of her grey-furred rapist's shaft, the slight discomfort did nothing to curtail the rising sensations. And when the knot began to swell inside of her, making her labia bulge outwards from the pressure, it simple added a sense of being filled to capacity to the pleasure that was assailing her unprepared mind. Her tight, young snatch was wrapped around the now-inflated canine cock with no room to spare, fitting itself to it like a glove.

Then, feeling that his knot was solidly set, Silver Fang began to move. Not with the gentle, gradual acceleration of a man giving a virgin her first experience with lovemaking - but with the furious pace of a dog's mating and all the restraint one might expect of a wild beast. Except Silver Fang was faster than any dog, and even less restrained in this case. His dogs would sate their carnal hunger on this girl, to be sure, and take their wage in pleasure - but to Silver, she wasn't just an unresisting body to pour his seed into. She was the woman who'd killed a dozen of his dogs with a single attack, and crippled several others. He wanted to punish her.

For now, however, Chikane was finding her first heterosexual experience to be anything but torturous. The friction of Silver's fast-paced fucking was adding to the pleasurable heat already radiating from his cock, spreading through her groin as she rose rapidly towards her first orgasm. She could already tell that it would be different from those she'd reached with her own fingers, or those of her lover. Silver's cock was truly perfectly sized for her - at the extreme of his thrusts, his tip was almost but not QUITE touching her cervix, using every millimeter of her internal space. Waves of pleasure ran up her spine even as the rest of her body shook like a leaf under Silver's furious fucking.

The climax wracked her mind, making her fair cheeks flush and her breath come in short, intense bursts. Even as the pleasure consumed her, she briefly reflected on what those who'd known her back home would think if they saw this. Back then, she'd been a noble lady, nearly a princess, idolized and desired by all for her strength, intellect and beauty. Many a man had sought her hand in marriage, but she'd politely rebuffed them all, her heart already set on Himeko. They'd all thought her an unattainable goddess. And now, here she was - on her hands and knees in the mud, a thousand miles from home, giving up her virginity to a dog and cumming like mad as his hot shaft thrust in and out of her with inhuman speed.

She was still basking in the afterglow when Silver reached HIS climax, pouring his hot, thin cum into her previously unviolated womb. It cared little for the source, and accepted his seed as it would have accepted any other - letting the feeling of warmth spread up through her abdomen, furthering her pleasure. Silver's furry mass was still resting on her back, his front legs wrapped around her waist as he caught his breath after the furious right. His swollen knot had them pretty solidly locked together, considering her intense tightness, but while a normal dog would've responded by stepping off the bitch, swinging a leg over her back to wait for the knot to deflate ass-to-ass, Silver Fang had other plans.

Leaning down his head, he whispered in her ear, putting his capacity for human speech to unsavory use. "I've claimed your cunt for all canines, bitch... it's already taken on the shape of my cock. From now on, any time you mate with a human, you'll find his shape too dull, his temperature too cool and his thrusts too slow." He punctuated every statement with a short, sharp thrust into her. "But every time you see a dog, you'll remember this pleasure... and you'll want to feel it again. But don't worry - we'll spread the word that you're a proper bitch, always hungry for a good knotting. All you'll need to do is get down and spread your legs, and they'll give you what you want. What you NEED."

The girl said nothing, but the way her pussy was contracting around his cock was answer enough for him. His knot had partially deflated while he talked, too, and so he pulled sharply back, popping it out - albeit not without giving her labia a bit of painful stretching on the way. Well, she'd need that, anyway. He was, after all, far from the best-hung member of his merry band. Bounding around to where her head was resting in the dirt, he grinned down at her, showing his dripping-wet cock in profile. "Raise your head so I can mount it... your duties won't stop at your rear end, make no mistake. Considering out numbers, you'll have to take two at a time - and you can start by licking the virgin blood off my shaft."

Chikane obeyed. Her hands were still tied in front of her, but she managed to push herself up with them anyway, and her lips parted meekly as the silver-furred dog jumped on her head, thrusting his semi-hard cock at her mouth. The taste was not altogether unpleasant - tangy, a bit sweet, with metallic hints. The taste in her mouth, however, would rapidly become the least of her worries, as the next-in-line of the pack's pecking-order stepped up behind her. Silver grinned up at his towering lieutenant, the massively-built bulldog Moss, knowing that the girl's punishment would now begin in earnest.

Being essentially the size of a pony, Moss couldn't mount the lithe girl the way Silver had - he could only walk over her, covering her body with his own. This also left his huge, dangling tool hanging quite high, so just as Silver had expected, it didn't find its way to her freshly-fucked pussy. If she'd kept her head on the ground, it might have, but as it was, the only orifice Moss could reach was her tiny, puckered asshole. The tip of his cock was covered in slick pre-cum from waiting his turn behind the Alpha - otherwise, he never would've been able to force his way into that untried orifice, despite his massive strength.

As it was, it was more than just a tight fit. Her sphincter protested painfully as it was wrenched open, accumulating the gradually-widening shaft with extreme reluctance. Moss was probably the best-hung member of the pack, though one or two might compare - the dogs didn't make a habit of hosting dick-measuring competitions, after all. Certainly, it would've made most humans envious even without taking the knot into consideration - a brutal introduction to anal sex for a young girl. Silver made a toothy, canine smile as he felt the girl's throat vibrate around his cock with restrained screams.

Moss, of course, didn't notice or care - he was only concerned with pushing his entire length into the tight, damp heat of her ass. His enormous mass, and the kind of raw strength that could split boulders, were bent to this task. The energy he poured into her untried asshole generated enough friction that it would've sent her skidding forwards across the dirt if Silver Fang hadn't been right in front of her - digging his rear paws into the ground. So instead, she merely got her face mashed forcefully into Silver's crotch, his half-swollen knot forced past her teeth to fill her mouth, while her nose was buried in his musky sheath-fur.

Finally, Moss was buried to the root, his still uninflated knot stretching her sphincter to the breaking-point as it slipped inside. Of course, once it WAS inside, it immediately started to swell, growing to nearly the size of a grapefruit as it painfully stretched the girl's lower intestine. Just like Silver had claimed her pussy, Moss had claimed her ass, forcing it to take on the characteristically canine shape of his cock. Also like Silver, he wasn't about to wait around for her to adjust to his size - as soon as his knot was safely set (ensuring that nothing short of a crowbar could have separated them), he started thrusting powerfully into her. But the fact that he couldn't properly mount her due to his size, combined with the sheer tightness of her virgin asshole, made it impossible for him to pull off the kind of rapid-fire fucking dogs were otherwise known for.

Rather than being a mercy, however, this simply ensured that it took significantly longer for him to reach his climax than it had for Silver. And in the meantime, Silver had the time to come up with an additional twist for his punishment of this girl. He couldn't help but notice that, even though her hot mouth had certainly closed around his semi-hard cock, she was making no move to suck or lick it the way Anitra had back when SHE'D been servicing his crew. Well, the massive pain in her ass might be somewhat distracting to the girl, but he wasn't about to cut her any slack on THAT account.

Lowering his head, he whispered to her again. "You're slacking off... not using your mouth properly. If you won't use it as a pleasure-hole for my hounds, it'll be a gutter instead." He gave his hips a quick jab to make sure he was fully embedded in her throat, then emptied his bladder down it. Considering how deep his cockhead was, there really wasn't a swallow/don't swallow choice involved for the girl - she could only kneel there, suspended between two canine cocks like a spit-roast chicken as she felt the hot urine wash down her throat to fill her belly. The only reason she was able to hold down the rising tide of nausea was the knowledge that, with Silver's knot blocking her mouth, any such ejection would wind up going out her nose.

Only once he was satisfied that every drop of his piss had been properly deposited did Silver pull out, leaving his cock to finally shrink back into its sheath while the girl coughed in front of him, tears in her eyes. "I've let all my dogs know, bitch... if they aren't satisfied with the way your please them with your mouth, they should let you know by marking your throat with their scent." He gave her a cruel grin, then walked away, making several barks to the surrounding dogs as he talked to them in the canine way. Of course, a concept as complicated as what he'd just claimed couldn't really be communicated in that fashion - instead, what he told them was simply that, should they find themselves with a straining bladder while mounting her head, they were free to let it go. The results would be more random than disciplinary, but it should keep the girl on her toes...

Certainly, his message seemed to have had the desired effect so far. As Moss reached his climax and began pumping his seed deep into her rear, the next dog in line mounted her front, and Silver could see her sucking in her cheeks and moving her head as she desperately sought to pleasure him. With a grin, he laid down to watch the display continue to unfold. Several hundred ordinary dogs (and a few extraordinary ones) were under his command these days, and while he'd sought to achieve a more equitable gender-distribution than when he first met Anitra, the majority of them remained male. While his initial claim to her had been mostly just a psychological attack, he DID feel confident that between them, they'd be able to provide her with a thoroughly memorable experience...

Anitra watched Silver Fang drag the tied-up and naked priestess off with a grin. Remembering her own experience with his army, she felt confident that the girl was in for a memorable experience. She, meanwhile, had some more matchmaking to do before she could indulge her own whims. Kain had already dragged his victim off to the side, and Blake had headed off with the horse-girl - something she could hardly begrudge him, considering what SHE was about to indulge herself in. But that still left several people standing around in a slightly awkward fashion - one might almost assume that this was the first Post-Battle Orgy they'd ever attended! Hah.

Well, one match-up was obvious. Direza, the drow priestess, was still close by her side, looking hopeful. Well, she'd get what she wanted - but later. For now, Anitra had something else in mind for her. Pulling the lithe elf close with an arm about her shoulder, she grinned down at her with undisguised naughtiness, and delighted as a blush once again crept into those ash-colored cheeks. "Now then, Direza... you said you'd do whatever I told you to, yes?" The girl nodded eagerly, and Anitra's nostrils vibrated slightly as she picked up the scent of her arousal. With a nod, she then dragged the slim priestess towards where Lupus, Minos and the newly-christened Umberto were standing.

"Well, listen up then... you've displayed admirable contrition concerning the treatment I received at the hands of your people, but what about this fine chap? He too was a prisoner, and he too suffered... and without his help, I could not have escaped, and we would never have met! And again today, he aided me in my hour of need. So really, I think it only proper that you give him a proper apology, and show him some gratitude... with your body." Umberto's mandibles chattered in what might have been a laugh, but the gaze his human eyes leveled at the drow priestess was most certainly lustful.

Direza looked up at the towering monstrosity before her - part insect, part ape, and certainly not attractive by the standards of any of the 'civilized' races. She seemed to swallow something, but then nodded, and undid the front of her robe. Anitra was somewhat disappointed to see that, this time, the girl was actually wearing something under it - some rather nice chainmail, practical leather trousers, and black metal bracers inscribed with the symbol of Lolth - the Focus of her clerical art. Still, it gave her an excuse to help the elf undress, and as she did, she whispered in her ear. "Just to keep you motivated... if I hear from him afterwards that you did a good job, I'll introduce you to the girl who taught ME how to use my tongue..."

The elf's breath quickened at that, and Anitra was not in the least surprised to see a wet stain on the inside of her leather trousers... or to find that she wasn't wearing anything underneath them. With her clothes and armor - including the bracers that allowed her to call upon the might of the spider-goddess - now in a neat little pile on the ground, the dark-skinned priestess walked towards the hulking monster in front of her without hesitation. Direza allowed herself only a brief glance over her shoulder, at the broadly-grinning DragonRider, before stepping into the reach of the huge Umber Hulk and surrendering her body to it.

The scent of the earth was thick around the beast - the smell of a burrowing creature. It reminded her of home, in a way - even though she'd spent her time there far away from any mere 'dirt', no amount of guards could keep the smell of the stagnant air away when you lived in a cavern. And of course, she knew well the strength of the Umber Hulks... she'd watched them fight in the arena many a time before that fateful day when this one had been pitted against the noble strength of the DragonRider. She knew that this one could easily tear her limb from limb with his huge hands, or bite off her head with one snip of his enormous mandibles.

She bent her neck before him, hands clasped below her petite breasts. "I am yours to command, Lord Umberto." He made another buzzing laugh, and spoke in a voice that carried a chitinous sharpness. "Lord, is it now? I never would have dreamed to see this day... well, then! I know you were watching from your seat at the arena when our mutual friend, the DragonRider, demonstrated her oral skills to me. Why don't you try your hand - and tongue - at it yourself?"

She sunk to her knees immediately, putting herself eye-level with the creature's crotch as his cock began to emerge from between the hairy armor-plates. The pear-shaped head, covered in knobby warts, the thin, leathery skin, the deep, umber color... she remembered it well. She'd only seen it once, briefly, on that day - right before the DragonRider enveloped it in her mouth. But that one day was burned indelibly into her memory, so even that brief glance had been enough. The size, too, was as she remembered it... imposing, edging on 'terrifying'.

Her breathing became faster as she felt the rising edges of a multi-tiered panic. She pushed her concerns with the size of the thing aside for now - she'd worry about that later. For now, he was only asking her to lick and suck it, which she could probably manage. But that only took the edge off her nervousness - the core of it remained: She basically had no idea what to do. The sum total of her exposure to such oral pleasures was the couple of minutes she'd watched the DragonRider perform it from her seat in the arena. She hadn't done anything of the sort with her drow-elf lovers beforehand, since they had always been there to please HER, not the other way around. And ever since leaving her homeland, she'd been effectively celibate, baring frequent, furious masturbation-sessions, powered by vivid memories and obscene fantasies - all involving the DragonRider, of course.

But not only did she need to do it now, she needed to do it WELL if she wanted the DragonRider to reward her... and more importantly, to be proud of her. Of course, that was why she had given her this challenge - to broaden her horizons! If she was to please the worldly and experienced DragonRider, she would need a far broader knowledge of sexuality than she currently possessed. So there was nothing for it but to learn by doing, and to put her all in it.

Her learning experience was off to a rocky start, however, as she tried to emulate the motions she had observed the DragonRider perform, all that time ago in the Commorragh Arena... leaning into it to envelop the shaft in her bosom, while bending her head forwards to swallow the head. But alas, while the DragonRider's chest was crowned by a pair of magnificent, swinging orbs, Direza had only petite mounds. And as she attempted to maneuver the pear-shaped cockhead past her lips, she found her jaw to be creaking dangerously before it was even halfway in. She felt ashamed of her failure, but more so by her own presumption. How could she have believed herself capable of duplicating the feats of the DragonRider? Truly a foolish notion. No, she simply had to find her own way, and compensate for her shortcomings with dedication.

And so, letting her jaw snap back into place, she set to work with her lips and tongue. She suckled each of the little warts covering the large cockhead in turn, letting her tongue caress it as she did. She licked up and down the smooth, leathery shaft repeatedly, covering it with her spit (which, she reflected, probably counted as an investment in the future.) And when the hulk's scrotum dropped out of his carapace - ponderous and covered in short hairs - she remembered how the DragonRider had caressed the wrinkly pouch with her fingers while performing her feat, and lowered her head further.

The smell was intense down there. Umber Hulks weren't known for washing, and the wrinkled ballsack spent the vast majority of its time nestled safely inside the creature's carapace, only emerging into the cool air when it was building up a load. As such, it smelled almost exactly like one would expect the scrotum of a large ape who hadn't bathed in a lifetime would smell, assuming said ape had been keeping his sack safely stashed deep in his ass-crack for most of that time. But to Direza, the scent was strangely erotic.

She had spent her entire adult life leaving in a perfectly-kept palace, her desires serviced by carefully-washed and subtly-perfumed young elves. The smell of sweat both stale and fresh, and the musk of a long-unwashed body... when combined with a heightened state of arousal, there was only one thing her mind could connect it to: The DragonRider, who had come directly from months spent in the dungeons and torture-chambers of her city and the physical exertion of a battle. She remembered smelling that smell on the powerful arms that had enfolded her back then. The Umber Hulk's scent was different, of course, and far riper... but it was close enough for her.

And so, when she started running her tongue through the coarse hairs of the creature's sack, kissing and sucking every inch of the wrinkled surface, she wasn't just displaying the dedication she'd started with - she was genuinely enthusiastic. While her tongue cleaned a lifetime of accumulated sweat and grime off the large, heavy sack, she eagerly buried her nose in the short hairs, breathing in the thick stench like it was the finest perfume. At the same time, despite the occasionally awkward angles involved, she also kept at least one hand moving up and down the spit-slickened shaft.

Above her, Umberto was shaking with pleasure, instinctively jerking his hips forwards in response to the delightful sensations emerging from his groin. His scrotum, usually stored safely inside his body, was by far the most sensitive part of his body, covered in tiny feelers so that he might know of any threat to it immediately. That, however, also turned it into his most erogenous zone, and the feeling of a hot mouth and smooth tongue caressing every inch of his testicles was pushing him rapidly towards an orgasm - the only reason he hadn't cum already was that those very same testicles were still hard at work producing his load. He was so glad he'd decided to go off on this fool's errand, he thought to himself. Certainly, no female of his own species could have given him such pleasure.

Direza felt the huge body jerk above her, and the increasingly insistent throbbing of the shaft in her hands. Even with her limited knowledge of sexuality, she could recognize those signs - he was getting close. Fortunately, she'd just finished cleaning the back of his sack, her nose nearly lodged in his rectum as she licked the top of it, tongue smoothing the wrinkles near the point where leathery skin met chitinous plate. Abandoning the now spit-shines scrotum, she quickly bopped her head around to his front again, and rose to envelop the bulbous cockhead in her mouth.

Well, as much of it as she could manage, her jaws once again creaking in protest. Just the tip of it, really, leaving the wider base of the head and all its little knobs out in the cold. But as she sucked eagerly, letting her tired tongue dance around every wart it could reach, and continued jacking the large shaft with both hands, it was enough. With a vibrating, insectoid roar, he came, and she felt the tiny knobs on his cockhead opening inside her mouth as the creature's thick cum poured out.

It coated her tongue and filled her mouth in a second, forcing her to rapidly swallow as the flood continued. The taste was strong and earthy, and carried the same musky impact as his body-scent. It seemed to fill her head completely, covering her tastebuds and wafting up to tickle her nose from the inside. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she drank it down, swallowing as quickly as she could, but the flood was too swift and her throat too narrow. Dollops of the thick slime rose to fill her nasal cavities, trickling out her nostrils. But even as her vision began to darken from lack of air, she refused to let go of the cockhead, determined to drink every drop.

Of course, she was only getting about half the flow - the rest was emerging from the knobs surrounding the lower, wider part of his head. A lot of this was splattering on her face, stinging her eyes and staining her fair hair. More was hitting her chest, coating her small, pert tits. The rest was just rolling down the shaft itself, adding a layer of thick, slimy cum to the spit she'd already applied to it. Minutes rolled by as she drank, her senses overwhelmed. Tasting it cover her tongue, smelling it fill her nose, seeing it cover her eyeballs, feeling it against her smooth skin, hearing the gulps as she swallowed repeatedly... for a short time, her world was nothing but thick, musky cum.

Then, finally, the spurting stopped, and the trance was broken. Coughing wetly, she stumbled back, desperately trying to clear her airways before the passed out, while trying to wipe the stinging fluid out of her eyes at the same time. It took her several minutes to get herself back together, and even then her eyes still stung, sending a steady flow of tears rolling down her cheeks as they cleaned themselves. In the meantime, Umberto recovered from his orgasm, calming his accelerated breath - and he was delighted to note that his shaft hadn't softened in the least. This was something he'd been longing for since that day in the arena - a smooth-skinned mammalian woman, surrendering her body to him. He wasn't going to be satisfied by cumming just once or twice.

With a grunt, he reached down and wrapped both of his huge hands around the drow's slim waist, lifting her effortlessly in front of him. The girl was still coughing slightly, and her eyes looked even redder than normal as she looked up at the tiny, simian eyes above his huge, segmented bug-eyes. "What... *cough* What if your desire, my Lord?" He grinned at her, loosely aware that she probably couldn't recognize his expression as such what with having mandibles instead of lips, and leaned his upper body back to position her squarely above his throbbing erection. "Spread your legs, and put your feet on my knees."

She obeyed instantly, her bare feet finding surprisingly good purchase on the rough-haired plates of chitin covering his thighs. This left her knees slightly bent, her thighs widely spread, and her groin completely open and exposed to the huge member underneath. She felt her old nervousness rise through the dizziness of her recent brush with unconsciousness. The thing was easily the size of her entire forearm, and just as thick! The pear-shaped head was larger than one of her slim, girlish hands! So far, the greatest penetration she had accommodated was a couple of fingers - barely edging out the unspectacular tackle of her past elvish lovers. Even though her pussy had been drooling torrents of lubricating juice ever since the DragonRider had undressed her, and her labia were puffed-up and slightly parted with unreleased lust, it would be a difficult entry to be sure.

Then, the Umber Hulk chittered at her, drawing her attention back up as he gave her another command. "Now... reach down your hands, and pull your ass-cheeks apart. As wide as you can manage." Instantly, she felt her nervousness soar into pure panic. She was familiar with anal sex... on a purely theoretical level. Even after the DragonRider had mentioned it during their first encounter, she'd never explored the possibility, never inserted so much as one slim finger into her virgin asshole. And this, she realized, was her punishment. She'd gone out in search of the DragonRider, desiring to serve her, but she had failed to prepare her body for what that would entail. This, then, was her penalty.

Breath quickening, she did as she was ordered. With her long fingers, she encircled the two fleshy orbs of her buttocks and pulled them apart with all her might. She could feel her sphincter stretching, protesting, aching as she forced it to open slightly, and knew it was merely a prelude of what was to come. Umberto chuckled at her in his insectoid way as he lowered her body down until his bulbous, knobby cockhead was resting directly against her tiny, untried rear hole. She could feel it pushing against her fingers, impossibly wide... and yet, considering the massive strength of the creature, she had no doubt he'd get it inside.

As she felt his hands tightening in preparation of that first thrust, she took a deep breath and braced herself. Then he pushed down, with all his enormous might, forcing the head and half of the foot-long shaft into her in one swift movement. The pain was staggering, like someone had lit a fire beneath her, the flames licking deep inside. But she ignored the pain. It was meaningless. A warning from her body of injuries sustained, but those injuries were unimportant. Her body did not know that she was a priestess of Lolth, and that whatever damage was inflicted upon her, she could easily heal once she had her bracers back on. In the meantime, it was merely a meaningless noise in her head.

And for once, her past life as the High Priestess of Lolth and Empress of the Drow came to her aid. Despite her many clerical duties, she'd also had to spend significant time dealing with the administrators, politicians and military commanders of her empire - and as such, she'd learned how to put on a good face regardless of what she was feeling. Being able to smile pleasantly at someone you personally hated was a requirement for the job of being a leader, even amongst the Drow.

And so, now, she was pushing the pain she felt aside, and instead assuming an expression of lust, pleasure and desire. She turned the scream waiting in her throat into a lustful moan, let her eyes hang seductively half-open, and let her cheeks flush with desire. And indeed, it was not entirely a lie... for while the enormous intrusion in her asshole was certainly not causing her any PHYSICAL pleasure, it was generating a paradoxical sort of enjoyment nonetheless. Ultimately, though her heart was set on the DragonRider, she was just a natural submissive - being manhandled, humiliated and used by a physically overwhelming partner made her pussy throb pleasantly.

She let this pleasure sustain her as she forced herself to continue pulling her buttocks apart despite the searing agony. When your ass already feels like it's been split wide open with a rusty axe, pulling it further apart with your own hands takes a certain amount of sheer will. But she was determined - her purpose was to please him in any way she could, and in this case, that meant giving him as unrestricted access to her ass as she could possible manage. By forcing her sphincter to continue stretching under her fingers, she was reducing the friction on his shaft, and thus enabling him to fuck her faster and easier.

And fuck her he did. With enormous strength, he lifted her up only to thrust her down again, flexing his groin forwards to meet her. Gradually he forced more and more of his shaft inside, until finally her ass-cheeks bounced off the chitinous armor-plates surrounding the base of his cock, squeezing her fingers in between. He could feel his cockhead being pushed sideways by her intestines as it explored her deepest depths, and yet her face was still a mask of undisguised desire. The dark lines of pussy-juice covering her groin and the way her gray labia glistened wetly in the sunlight proved to him that her lust extended beyond just her expression, too.

He could only respond with lust of his own, and so - having ascertained that he could use his full length - he began to thrust in earnest. With his entire shaft slickened by spit and cum, and her sphincter being forced open by her own fingers, he found it easy to lift her all the way up 'till the bulbous lower rim of his cockhead peeked out between her fingers, only to then smash her down the full length of it, feeling the tight heat or her ass around his entire tool. Her legs would go from nearly-straight to fully-bent at every thrust, offering no resistance, but merely steadying her body and keeping her legs pleasantly spread.

Listening to her lusty moans as he bounced her up and down on his cock, he grinned broadly. He'd chosen to fuck her ass for two reasons - firstly because it was something he'd wanted to try since he first experienced sex with a smooth-skin (it wasn't exactly possible to do it to a female of his own kind, since an Umber Hulk's rectum was a tiny gap between a number of hard armor-plates), and secondly because he wanted to punish her. She was, after all, a representative and former leader of the people who'd imprisoned and tormented him. But this... this was better. "Do not worry, little drow..." he said, without slowing down his thrusts. "Once I'm done with your ass and you've cleaned me off properly, I'll give your pussy a good fucking too. I can tell it needs it..."

Anitra grinned as she watched Direza drop to her knees in front of Umberto, beginning her service with a bang. Well, it probably wasn't what the girl had had in mind when she'd accepted her offer, but considering how insulated most of her life had been, she needed to broaden her horizons a bit anyway. Then, she looked away - she'd definitely want to get together with that submissive priestess later, to reinforce her hold over her and remind her why she'd come, but for now, she had other things to deal with.

Namely, Aelia, who was looking around somewhat awkwardly as the group drifted apart into sexual match-ups. She was undressing, taking off her armor slowly and with some reluctance, but didn't seem to know what to do with herself. That girl needed to loosen up, and Anitra knew just who could do that. Reaching out, she grabbed Pamila by the shoulder and pulled her in close just as she'd started sauntering in the direction of Minos, whose large bull-cock had emerged from its sheath as the air began to fill with pheromones.

"Hey, Pamila... I see who you've got your eyes on, but I could really use your help with something... or rather, someONE." The skimpily-dressed fairy reluctantly tore her eyes away from the swinging member, and looked up at her with pleading eyes. "Aww... I thought you distracted Pfil so I could have some FUN... although, I suppose I DO owe you. Fine, what do you need?" Anitra winked down at her, then pulled her towards Aelia. "Aw, don't be like that - there'll be plenty of chances to get to know the guys later. But for now..."

They came to a stop in front of the half-naked warrior-woman, who looked up hopefully as she noticed Anitra's approach. "Aelia... there's someone I'd like you to meet." She gave Pamila a small shove, sending her forwards into the red-haired warrior's arms. "This is Pamila - the most talented and skillful pussy-licker I've ever met, and the tastiest to boot. She owes me a favor, and I owe YOU for coming to help me even after I screwed you over - so to say - last time we met. So... I'm gonna let you two get to know each other. Have fun..."

Aelia looked at the odd creature she'd suddenly found herself with her arms wrapped around. Slim and shapely, with short, almost boyish hair. Her curves belayed her girlish face, however - they were womanly to say the least, with large breasts and broad hips. Delicate, insect-like wings emerged from her shoulders, but she otherwise looked quite human. But the way she was looking up at her - lust in her eyes, licking her lips - seemed more predatory than anything.

She also had very swift and nimble hands. Aelia had been dragging her feet getting out of her armor, but even if she'd been rushing, she couldn't have discarded the heavy plates, chainmail and underlying cloth layer as quickly as this fairy was now doing it. Within a handful of seconds, she found herself buck-naked, her armor scattered in a disorderly pile as the shorter, far weaker-looking girl took charge of the situation. She made no protest or move to resist as the fairy-girl pushed her down on her back and forcibly spread her legs, licking her lips again as she kneeled down to get a better look.

"Ooo, an all-natural redhead, I see.... never gone down on one of those before, come to think of it. I don't suppose you taste like strawberries?" The fairy's voice was smooth and erotic, filled with unspoken promises of pleasure. She had about her the air of a highly experienced and competent lover, and it was making Aelia blush uncontrollably. She didn't answer the question, either. It didn't seem like the kind of question that required one.

Pamila had only taken a couple of quick licks across Aelia's swollen vulva when a shadow fell over them. "Well, now, fairy... you seem only PARTIALLY occupied. Mind if I rectify that?" The two girls glanced up to see Lezard Valeth, a visible bulge on his black trousers, standing beside them with an arrogant smile on his face. Aelia was just about to make a sharp reply, but Pamila chose that moment to dig two fingers into her pussy, testing its internal lubrication and finding it plentiful - so her protest came out only as a vague moan.

Pamila, meanwhile, looked him up and down, then shrugged. "Sure, go ahead... I could use something bigger than my fingers back there. Though I'll admit, I'd been hoping for someone a tad... better equipped." She then lowered her head between Aelia's thighs again, pulling her labia apart with two fingers as she burrowed her tongue into her pussy, not waiting for a reply. Lezard just chuckled and walked around to her rear while pulling a small bottle out of his voluminous robes. "Oh my, what a lusty little creature you are... believe me, if your mouth wasn't otherwise occupied, I'd make you eat those words. As it is, I'll just have to settle for making you choke on them."

He undid the buttons of his pants with one hand, while uncorking the bottle and downing the contents with the other. A second and a half later, the front of his pants exploded open, unleashing an inhuman beast into the air in front of Aelia's unbelieving eyes, but outside Pamila's own field of vision. His dick had suddenly grown to inhuman proportions, and were it not for its unmistakably human SHAPE, it could have easily been mistaken for something that belonged under the belly of a horse or a donkey. Two large bulges were visible below it, straining against the black fabric of his pants, indicating that the transformation hadn't been limited to just the shaft.

Aelia tried to warn Pamila as Lezard kneeled down behind her, casually pulling the crotch of her tight bathing-suit-like attire aside, steering his enormous cock towards her pussy with his other hand - but Pamila had gotten started for real, her tongue pulling impossible twists inside the muscular warrior-woman's pussy, sending mind-shaking waves of pleasure through her. Her mind besieged by this pleasure, her attempts at speech all seemed to peter out into stammered groans and moans. Thus, Pamila got only a brief warning as she felt Lezard rub his oversized cockhead back and forth across her sopping-wet pussy-mound to lubricate it.

That was not enough time for her to put two and two together... although, to be fair, the equation was quite a bit tougher than that. The feeling of her labia being wrenched apart by the massive intrusion, the friction tremendous despite her abundant lubrication, thus took her entirely by surprise. The unexpected impact of Lezard's first thrust pushed her forwards, mashing her face into Aelia's wet pussy and drowning her surprised exclamation in its tender folds. Her shapely little nose ground against the tiny, erect clit directly above it, bringing Aelia to her first orgasm of the night, and she reflexively closed her thighs, crossing her ankles behind Pamila's shoulders to lock her in place. Her hands, previously supporting her weight as she half-sat, half-laid on the ground, flew up to burry themselves in the fairy's thick hair, pulling her face even harder into the point between her legs where all the pleasure was radiating from.

Now, very few fairies (and no humans at all) knew that the reason Pamilla kept her hair thick and piled on top of her head, rather than letting it run long and straight down her back like many fairies did, was to hide her secret shame: Her tiny, underdeveloped antennae. The antennae were a sensitive point for any fairy, but Pamila's were particularly so - her secret 'weak point'. But now, entirely by accident, Aelia had found them. Her powerful hands, calloused by years spent wielding a weapon, were rubbing against them now, sending little shocks of stimulation through the fairy. Combined with the sensation of a huge cock stretching her open from behind, and the taste and smell of a fresh pussy being mashed into her face, it was enough to make her abandon all reason.

By the time Lezard pushed his alchemically-reinforced shaft inside her to the halfway-point and started calmly talking - in his usual, arrogant fashion - she had already checked out. Her body was moving on instinct, her legs spreading wide to accommodate the enormous penetration even as her well-practiced tongue continued its nerve-teasing work. Her nose, forced against Aelia's pelvis as it was, found its access to fresh air somewhat restricted, and the resulting oxygen-deprived dizziness only contributed to maintaining her semi-catatonic state.

Aelia, meanwhile, was simply soaring on the first eddies of her next orgasm, experiencing pleasures on Pamila's practiced tongue that none of her past lovers could have hoped to match. She was actively ignoring the world around her, focusing only on the please. So as Lezard started his explanation, literally nobody was listening. "You know, I used to finance my research by selling poisons and alchemical weapons to various unsavory types... from crime-bosses to ambitious politicians. Brought in lots of gold, but also a bit too much of the wrong sort of attention. But then I realized that the REAL money was to be made in selling 'performance enhancers' to insecure men. Heh. Of course, I wouldn't normally use it myself, but for dealing with a shallow slut who only cares about size, it seemed a natural step. This particular mix is an experimental one, incidentally - far stronger than the version I normally sell. I DO hope you appreciate it..."

His meandering speech rather neatly concealed his surprise at what he was feeling. He'd expected the slim fairy-girl to scream and struggle as she was impaled on his oversized erection, but somehow, she was actually accommodating it... and giving every appearance of enjoying it. Her hips were actually flexing, pushing back against him as if inviting him to go deeper, and judging from the way Aelia was moaning, her tongue hadn't stopped for a moment. With a shrug, he answered the silent pleas, pushing deeper into the remarkably capacious cunt, eased on his way by the constant, almost torrential flow of pussy-juices. He got nearly all of it inside in the end, leaving only an inch or two out in the cold as he came up against a hard wall at the end of the line.

Before he'd joined the earlier battle, he had dosed himself with a few select draughts of his own creation, designed to increase his combat-performance and ensure that he survived. They were still active, and were coming into their own now. His strength, endurance, speed and sense of balance had all been boosted supernaturally - and now, he was putting them to a different use, moving his hips back and forth with maximum speed and power in order to fuck the horny fairy with as much of his shaft as he could manage - which, in this case, wasn't much more than half of it. That was still enough to stir up Pamila's insides tremendously, though, and as Lezard could keenly sense by the contractions of her tight pussy, she was cumming repeatedly.

But even as he felt his own pleasure rise at the sensation of the slippery wetness, tight as a fist around his shaft, the resentment was boiling up inside him. He'd genuinely been looking forwards to hearing her protest that he was too large. To teaching her a lesson about being careful what you wished for. But seeing as she was apparently ENJOYING the turgid mass currently stretching open her pussy, that lesson most definitely seemed to have been lost, and then some.

Lezard Valeth, however, was a man with a keen, analytical (if somewhat insane) intellect, and even as he continued his powerful thrusting, pushing himself towards an orgasm of his own, he was collecting data and adding it up. He made note of the ecstatic expression on Aelia's face, and the way her eyes kept rolling back in her head while her whole body shuddered. He considered the way Pamila's body was bucking rhythmically back and forth between himself and the warrior-woman. Then, with the thoughtful expression of an alchemist adding a drop of an unfamiliar ingredient to an experimental potion, he lifted a gloved hand and brought it down on one of Pamila's pleasantly bulbous ass-cheeks with a loud, snapping sound.

With his currently-enhanced strength, it was no mere love-tap - the impact left an angry red outline in the shape of his hand on the fairy's fair skin. But the fairy didn't react - not to cry out in pain, or moan in pleasure, yet alone to tell him not to do that again. Aealia also failed to respond to the sound, her eyes remaining unfocused as she stared up at the sky. A wicked smile spread across his lips. With his genius-level intellect, he was able to keep a level head even while indulging in his carnal lust - but it seemed these girls were less cerebrally endowed than he. They'd lost themselves in the pleasure, moving on instinct... leaving him to set the pace, or change the game as he wished. Perhaps he could teach a few lessons after all.

He delivered a few more strikes to the fairy's fleshy rear end, seeking to confirm his theory... and because he rather enjoyed the way those buttocks jiggled at the impacts. With his handprint thus deeply imprinted on both of her ass-cheeks, he instead moved his grip to caress the globes, slipping his thumb towards the tiny, rose-colored hole hiding between them. Never slowing his thrusts, he gently tested its firmness, finding that it yielded beneath his thumb only with some reluctance. Good. Even if she'd had experience with anal sex, it clearly hadn't been that much - and certainly not to the degree of her voracious pussy.

Keeping his thumb nestles there, with the first link inside the heat as the sphincter tightened around the knuckle, he reached into his voluminous coat with the other hand, and drew out a test-tube filled with a clear fluid. It was a powerful muscle-relaxant, used to treat people for spastic fits and muscle-cramps... or, in larger amounts, to leave a victim immobilized and helpless without the inconvenient stiffness of conventional paralysis. He didn't need that much for this, though. Pulling the cork out of the tube with his teeth, he poured a bit of it down his thumb, the specially-prepared leather rejecting the fluid as it was supposed to, letting it flow smoothly down to pool around the fairy's sphincter.

Still thrusting, and feeling his climax fast approaching as his alchemically-magnified testes began to throb, he started gently massaging the liquid into her ass, working his finger around and gradually pushing it deeper with the help of the lubrication. He could feel it working already, her sphincter gradually releasing its tight grip on the leather-covered digit, and he took advantage of this by pulling his finger nearly all the way out - to get it all covered in the potion - and then pushing it deep inside again, spreading the mixture around.

He had to stop briefly as the pleasure finally overwhelmed him. Jaw tightening, he pushed his immense cock forwards and let the huge load of cum surge out of his balls, down the thick shaft, to spray powerfully into the fairy's womb. Thanks to the alchemical boosts, the load he delivered was far larger than what any human could've provided, rapidly filling the uterus and then surging back along his shaft to mix with the abundant pussy-juices.

For a few seconds, he rested like that, catching his breath. Then he proceeded to the next stage, starting by pulling his still-hard erection out of her tightly-clutching pussy. The outer labia, tautly stretched around his girth, scraped off the mixture of cum and other juices that would otherwise have clung to it, leaving it mostly unstained - but still rather wet - as he brought it out into the cool air. He'd get it some more attention shortly... but right now, he had other things to do. Since he didn't need to keep up the powerful thrusting anymore, it was quite a bit easier to get things done, even.

Spreading a bit more of the muscle-relaxant across the three middle fingers of his gloved hand, he pushed the three lubricated digits into the rapidly-loosening hole that his thumb had just vacated. As expected, it parted easily before them, the muscles having lost their strength to resist. Then he pulled the fingers apart, opening a triangular gap between them, and poured some more of the potion down it. He'd used up about half the contents of the test-tube by then, which on reflection was probably overkill... but that was fine too. He continued working the three fingers around, massaging the potion deep into the muscles of the first couple of inches of her lower intestine, while he started chanting a spell under his breath.

When he released it, a small army of skeletal hands rose from the ground beneath the two women, moving to his whim. They didn't even notice them until the hands gently but firmly pulled Aelia's legs apart, releasing Pamila's head. They then lifted both girls entirely off the ground, pulling them apart as they did so - with Aelia releasing Pamila's head only with great reluctance. Both still seemed dazed and confused, but he knew he had to work quickly before the lost pleasure-input gave them a chance to wake up.

The hands rose higher underneath Pamila, turning into full, bony arms as they lifted her into the air. At the same time, the hands under Aelia turned her around 180 degrees, and carried her swiftly backwards under the now-suspended fairy. Finally, she raised hands lowered again, depositing Pamila on top of Aealia in the classic configuration known as a '69'. Ever helpful, the hands then rose to lift Aelia's head, pushing it into Pamila's juicy cunt, while pulling down the fairy's head to once again place it within tongue-range of the red-haired warrior's eager slit. Both reacted as he had foreseen - responding to the scent and the softness against their lips by licking and sucking on their partner's privates.

He glanced down at the sweaty red mop of Aelia's hair as she eagerly dug into Pamila's pussy, tasting the sweetness of Fairy Nectar for the first time. It seemed unlikely that the girl was fully appreciating the fact that what she was sucking out of the fairy's gaping cunthole was roughly a fifty-fifty mix of pussy-juice and his own cum... but that didn't mean HE couldn't appreciate it, and think of it as a fitting bit of payback for the way she'd ordered him around earlier, commandeering his power for her fool's errand of a lover's reunion.

Still, the trip hadn't been entirely wasted... he'd dueled and defeated a famous black mage, and now he got to have some fun with a human-sized fairy. With that thought in mind, he steered his swollen shaft towards the girl's asshole, removing his fingers from it at last. It didn't close behind them, hanging slightly open in mute testament to the potency of the muscle-relaxant he'd just dosed it with. When his cockhead, big as a clenched fist and covered in her own, ultra-slippery juices then pushed against it, it offered little resistance.

Despite Pamila indeed having relatively little experience with anal sex, her ass parted easily around the enormous intruder. The first few inches, where the potion had been fully massaged into the tissue, seemed to almost suck him in. The rest offered only slightly more resistance, the muscles having lost all power to resist as they were stretched around his massive erection like a form-fitted glove. It was actually a tad less tight than her pussy had been.

That, however, didn't concern Lezard any. He simply kept pushing, forcing more of his arm-thick shaft into the fairy's slim abdomen. On the way, his cockhead squeezed past her womb, still filled by his frothy jizz from before, and forced it to compress from lack of space. This sent a generous dollop of the thick goo running all the way down the vaginal canal, into Aelia's mouth where she hungrily swallowed it without a second thought.

When he reached the depths of her ass - the sharp bend where her lower intestine turned into her large intestine - he still had several inches left outside. But this time, he knew, there was no reason to stop because of that. The bend was where the potion he'd poured into her had pooled, being absorbed by her body. The muscles that usually kept her intestines locked in place were out for the count, and as he kept pushing - both hands gripping her hips as he applied his alchemically-boosted strength to the task - her body reshaped itself to accept him. Several inches of intestine was pulled sideways to wrap itself around his cockhead, effectively lengthening her lower intestine and pushing the corner higher up into her body.

The muscles generally concerned with preventing this made no protest, and so the small number of nerve-ends scattered around the area sent to alarm-signals. Pamila, still lost in pleasure with an eager tongue digging into her pussy, a wet slit pressed against her face and a pair of rough hands buried in her hair, received no sudden sting of pain to snap her out of her trance. She could still feel that SOMETHING had gone up her ass, but at the moment, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with that, and the feeling of fullness was only adding to her repeated orgasms.

Thus, when Lezard finally stopped he was buried inside her to the root, her fleshy buttocks mashed flat against his groin and his fist-sized testicles - which he'd released from the constraints of his tight black pants - dangling hypnotically above Aelia's unseeing eyes. He rested there for half a minute, wanting to make sure that her body was fully adjusted to accommodate him, and wouldn't just snap back into shape as soon as he pulled out. Only then did he start to fuck her, as roughly and violently as he could manage.

He knew that she wouldn't feel any of it right now, lost as she was in a haze of orgasmic endorphins. But the rough treatment he was giving her ass, ramming it like a particularly well-equipped and bad-tempered donkey, would stick with her long after they - AND the muscle-relaxant he'd dosed her with - had worn off. If he was any judge (and he knew more about the inner workings of the human body than most sages, however little they might approve of the way he'd GAINED said knowledge), she'd be unable to sit comfortably for a week or two.

And of course, the way he'd forced her body to adjust to his size would remain as well - not just the way he'd permanently increased the penetrable depth of her ass, but also the stretching he was giving her sphincter and intestine. Oh, it'd snap back together when the drug wore off, but the muscles would remember the size they'd been able to accommodate, and would offer far less resistance to any future penetration than they otherwise would. Thus, anyone - man, fairy or otherwise - who sought entrance to her rear hole in the future would find a well-worn, easily-opened orifice there, courtesy of Lezard Valeth.

Better yet, based on his knowledge of neurology, he suspected that she'd come out of this day with a mental association between huge penetrations stretching her ass open, and long series of mind-blowing orgasms. The thought of the measures she might take when she found the men of her own kind (and indeed, most kinds that did not walk on four hooves) unable to properly scratch that particular itch amused him. With his petty revenge thus out of the way, he leaned into the powerful ass-fucking without further reservations, idly wondering if Aelia was far enough gone that he'd be able to convince her to clean his cock when he was done.

Nearly two miles away, Jack Sparrow was tunelessly humming a sea-shanty while rummaging through the earthly possessions of his erstwhile allies. The two guards had succumbed easily to his charms, and been sent off on a wild goose chase in the direction of the ravages dragonhome they'd hit the night before. Now, he was busy doing one of his favorite activities - collecting treasure without anyone trying to kill him in the middle of it.

Well, of course, if he wanted to KEEP that last qualifier, he'd have to leave the tent of Raistlin, that damnable mage, alone... he didn't doubt that there'd be magical traps and whatnot there. But that was fine - just picking up the remainder of the team's share of past treasures - and anything else lightweight and valuable he found in their packs - was providing him with a bigger pile of treasure than he'd seen since his last visit to Isla de Muerte. Far more than he could carry - but fortuitously, his generous friends had left him several stout pack-horses that would no doubt be happy to assist him in that regard.

His humming escalating into whistling, he found himself pondering the best way to put all this treasure to work for him. He could drag it all back to the coast, and use it to buy a new ship - even bigger and better than his old Pearl - outfit it with the finest in gnome-built cannons and amoral battlemages, and crew it with the toughest band of scallywags and salty sea-dogs he could find. Sail for new horizons, seek more treasures, and maybe seek some revenge on the people who'd driven him so far from the shore... starting with that insufferable 'Captain' Barbossa.

Or, alternately, he could head in the direction of the big city and use it to set himself up with a nice mansion and an army of servants. It wasn't as if he had any need to run from the law, after all - this treasure wasn't stolen, at least not from anyone likely to report him to the guards. Better yet, once he was settled in, he could hire some skilled alchemists to work their way through that ragged, partly-faded recipe for a dragonblood-based Elixir of Immortality that had prompted him to join this doomed venture in the first place. His own experiments hadn't come to much, despite an abundance of material... but then again, he was hardly a scientist. Perhaps best to let the professionals deal with it. He still had several bottles of magically-preserved dragonblood stashed in his pack for the purpose.

Leaving the tent he'd been ransacking, he decided to let his compass decide. The reliable little artifact always pointed at what you wanted most, so if he couldn't decide between one course and the other, it should settle the matter. While reaching into his vest for it, however, he found himself suddenly distracted by the keening sounds coming from the still-active magic circle in the other end of the camp. All the little dragon-whelps were milling around in there, crying bloody murder. Maybe they'd senses the fall of their older relatives, or of their 'trainer', Lance. Or maybe they just missed Menolly and her sweet, sweet singing-voice.

Aye, that poor lass... the naïve child had no concept of what she'd gotten herself into. She'd been so desperate and starved for affection when they found her, she'd have accepted any kind word as gospel. She'd eaten George's story about her being a gift from the Allfather sent to help them in their quest to annihilate the evil dragons whole. Hah. If anyone had bothered to ask Captain Jack Sparrow, he could've told them that the girl just had some Siren-blood in her. That kind of thing happened when your family had been living by - and of - the sea for generations. Add a few centuries of mixed blood and roll the dice of fate, and you could get all kinds of odd results. Like a girl whose hypnotic voice held little sway over men, but had a strong impact on dragons.

He found himself starring in the direction of the battlefield he'd left behind. One of the last things he'd seen before beating a hasty - but entirely tactical - retreat, was some big orange bug-thing emerging from a hole in the ground with her unconscious form slung over his shoulder. She'd be a prisoner now, but probably not for long. He'd seen the way dragons normally reacted to her 'talent'. It horrified them. Controlling a dragon with magic normally took INCREDIBLE amounts of juice, but she was doing it as easy as walking. And when they saw the young dragons who fought under Lance's command... eeesh. They'd drop anything to get a shot at that girl. He'd even used her to bait a particularly deadly trap, once. Worked like a charm, too.

And the odd group who'd captured her was led by a dragon. She was dead meat for sure, unless he decided to drag it out some as a punishment. Ah well. At least that meant he could be fairly certain she wouldn't come looking for him - and her share of the loot - with a pet dragon on a lead. Sighing, he looked down, curious to see if his compass had settled to pointing towards the coast, or the big cities of the heartlands. Then, seeing where it pointed, he swore as only a pirate could, for several minutes, and hefted the sack of plunder he was holding over his shoulder with a grunt.

With Aelia - and, judging by the way he was moving towards Pamila's rear end with purpose in his stride, Lezard - taken care of, Anitra felt that she could finally indulge her OWN desires. And fortunately, there were two unoccupied males left for her to claim for herself. Good ol' Minos and Lupus. Both were visibly erect, lacking any clothes to conceal it (or get in her way), and they were both looking around at the escalating orgy with some obvious embarrassment. In fact, one might say they were 'gawking', like country-boys in the big city. She wasn't sure what the dating-scene was like back in the Valley of Wonder, but judging by the quiet, pastoral image it had, she suspected that it was usually kept behind closed doors, or deep in the quiet of the forest... or perhaps in hay-lofts, however cliché that might be.

She walked up behind Lupus and threw her arms over his shoulders, pressing her naked body against his fur. "What are you two just standing around for? This is a PARTY! What do you say we get properly reacquainted, hmm?" She reached down to cup his scrotum from behind as she talked, feeling the familiar shape of his canine cock as it emerged fully from its sheath, jumping in her hand. Lupus jumped slightly too, but then looked back over his shoulder with a canine grin. "I'd say that sounds like a mighty good idea... we weren't just standing around, after all. We were just waiting for the queen of the party to notice us."

Anitra laughed as she released her grip and walked around him to stand between the two friends. "That a fact? Well, consider yourselves noticed. Particularly you, Minos... I always kind of regretted not getting to properly try on that big bullcock of yours last time we met." She reached up to run one hand caressingly along his chin, and he blushed slightly as she smiled up at him. "Tell you what... there's something I wanna try out with you two. Minos, could you get down on your knees for me? You're AWFULLY tall, after all..."

The 8-feet-tall minotaur nodded eagerly and complied, bringing his head down far enough that they were NEARLY eye-to-eye. It was close enough for her to plant a quick, yet deep kiss on his bovine muzzle, however, before she got down to business. Stepping over his dick - which was pointing proudly at the sky, and brushed her labia even while her legs were fully-straightened - she bent her knees and let her hungry, sopping-wet pussy absorb it to the root. It was long enough for the head to brush against her cervix, but no more than that. Moaning in pleasure as felt the long-awaited penetration, she had to restrain herself from riding the long, hard cock immediately, and instead glanced over her shoulder at Lupus. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you..." she said with a naughty grin. "Your part in this will become clear soon, just bear with me for a second."

Looking away just as he started nodding, she instead directed her gaze down between her legs. There, she could see her slippery juices staining Minos' short-haired crotch, confirming that plentiful lubrication had been confirmed. Finally, with a small sigh, she lifted herself up again, letting the oval head plop out from between her pussy-lips with some reluctance, before reaching down with one hand to steer it towards the other hole.

Her ass was just as eager to hungrily devour the slickened shaft as her pussy had been, absorbing the 18-inch length of it with ease. She moaned again, a bit louder this time, as she thanked whatever gods had designed the powers of the DragonRiders for her ability to enjoy the sensation of being completely filled, her ass tightly constricting around the bovine shaft, even though she knew very well that she could easily take far bigger things in there. But even then, with her taint resting against the base of Minos' shaft and her pussy squeezed up against his hip, she wasn't quite ready to begin the ride yet.

Instead, with one foot resting on the ground to steady herself, she leaned back and lifted the other leg, swinging it up and around like a ballet dancer, forcing Minos to lean his head back to let it pass. Her entire body turned, rotating with his well-lubricated cockshaft as the fulcrum, finally leaving her with both feet on the ground again, and her back now turned to him, her ass pressing against his hip instead of her pussy. With this complicated maneuver completed, she leaned back again, resting her head against his hairy chest as she looked up at his dumbfounded face with a grin.

She then reached up her slender, yet powerful arms to wrap them around his bull-neck, and finally lifted both of her legs, bending her knees and spreading her thighs as she did so. Most of her weight was resting squarely on his cock, pushing it as deep as it was physically possible for it to go, with the arms around his neck merely preventing her from tipping forwards or falling to the sides. This, of course, also left her freshly-penetrated pussy completely on display as it gaped slightly, seeking something new to fill it. She gave Lupus a naughty look, licking her lips. He didn't need any further invitation.

Lupus had to stoop only a little to guide his swelling cock, knot half-inflated already, into her eager pussy. The velvet-soft folds enfolded it and pulled him in, opening around the knot without hesitation as he leaned into her, burying himself balls-deep in the slippery wetness. Instantly, her legs snapped together like a pair of scissors, closing around his waist, connecting at the ankles to make sure he didn't leave - not that he had any inclination to, as he felt he'd made clear enough when his powerful front paws closed around her waist. His knot was already swelling to its full size, bigger than one of his fists, and on a normal girl, he would've considered that more than enough to tie them together... but he rather had a feeling that this particular girl could pass far larger objects through HER labia.

Lupus began to flex his hips, lifting her into the air by his cock, letting half of Minos' shaft slip out of her ass before he stopped the motion and let her drop back down again. His canine instinct to keep his knot securely sealed inside her labia prevented him from using stokes longer than an inch or so himself, but he could still use his powerful hindquarters to give her a proper ride on Minos' more straightforward tool. Minos quickly caught on to the rhythm and started moving his own hips counter to it, not only increasing the speed and stroke-length of the ass-fucking, but also creating a sort of 'double-time' for Lupus - when the minotaur's powerful haunches hit Anitra's buttocks, it would lift her just a bit, essentially providing a second thrust for him.

Squeezed between the two powerful, furry bodies, Anitra moaned without restraint, feeling the long-awaited tide of pleasure rise to greet her like an old friend. She needed this, desperately - maybe even more than she needed the Quickening she knew would follow not long from now. As the first orgasm washed over her, it cleansed her mind, pushing away the stress, worry and desperation of the battle. The Quickening would soon wash away the fatigue and aches of the struggle, along with the scars and bruises... but it was the pleasure of the orgasm, the familiar rush of endorphins and hormones, that healed her spirit. She could lose herself in this pleasure, buffeted between two strong, well-equipped lovers, and let everything else vanish into the distance.

Panting like a bitch in heat - which made her look all the more attractive to Lupus - she saw his handsome, canine face bop up and down in front of her, and instinctively leaned into it with her mouth half-opened. The shape of his mouth made it impossible for their lips to really lock, but that was no different from her beloved Blake - so she'd had lots of practice kissing long, narrow muzzles. Lupus was only briefly surprised to find himself the beneficiary of that experience, quickly letting his instincts take over as he leaned into the kiss, tongue diving between her lips to wrestle with hers even as the breath continued to wheeze out the corners of his mouth.

She came several times, writhing between them, enjoying both the short, rapid-fire jabs of the wolf in front of her, and the powerful, full-length thrusts of the bull behind her. She'd long since learned to enjoy sexually-charged pain, to relish in the sensation of being stretched to her vey limits, to eagerly allow her buttocks to be tenderized while she was fucked... but this time, there was no pain. Her two lovers both fit her well, filling her without stretching her unduly, and while their thrusts were powerful, they did not cause even the slightest discomfort in her well-practiced holes. And perhaps more importantly, she knew that they were both good, reliable people - that they were as eager to please her as please themselves, and that they'd stop if she asked them to.

She'd been raped numerous times, and more often than not, she'd welcomed it - thanks to her power as a DragonRider, it tended to be a good way to turn a problematic situation around. And of course, she'd enjoyed it regardless. She'd also frequently used sex as a bargaining-chip, to manipulate, bribe or reward people in order to further her own ends. And she'd enjoyed it. Of course, her greatest pleasure was found with Blake, whose embrace could pleasure and comfort her like no other... but when she was with him, and his immense tool stretched her open, the pain was part of the pleasure.

She enjoyed many things, and would continue to do so - from cocks large enough to nearly split her open, to exotic kinks and sexual plays - but this had a purity she rarely got to feel. Pure, undiluted, vanilla pleasure. No strings attached, no ifs ands or buts. She knew she'd eventually get bored on a diet of nothing but that, and that nothing could ever replace Blake in her heart (or between her legs), but right now, it was the perfect flavor. It was just exactly and precisely what she needed. And so, she came, again and again, her mouth sucking hungrily on Lupus' tongue while her pierced nipples rubbed against his soft fur.

The spell was broken when finally, Minos came. Moving on instinct more than thoughts, his ham-sized fists closed around her shoulders, pushing her firmly down on his cock and holding her in place as it began to spray its seed deep inside of her. Lupus quickly took advantage of her sudden immobility, firming his grip on her hips as he quickly accelerated his thrusts towards the kind of blinding speed one normally expected from a canine, pushing himself rapidly towards his own orgasm even as he provided Anitra with a few more of hers.

The Quickening surged through her as Minos' powerful seed was absorbed by her body. Direza's magic had already fixed most of the major damage she'd sustained during the battle, but there were other, more subtle things too - strained muscles and bruised bones, the simple aches that followed any kind of strenuous physical activity. All was repaired, mended, and corrected, her body rapidly regenerating towards peak condition even as she felt herself being filled with brimming energy again.

She released Lupus from their long, intense kiss so that she could laugh at the sky even as she felt his cum boil into her pussy. She could hardly remember ever having felt so good, so alive, except perhaps on that very night when she became a DragonRider. But this time, she wasn't blinded by her Quickening. She wasn't controlled by it. She could feel it seeping into her mind, telling her that she was all-powerful, that she could do anything, and that she could have anything she desired... that any who stood between her and her goal would be inexorably crushed. And she laughed at it. She knew her strength, knew what she could do, and what she could not do. She was no goddess, nor even close to invincible. She'd made it this far, through everything that had happened, because of her power... but also because of the occasional friend and ally, and because of more luck than any mortal had any right to expect. But more importantly, there was nothing she wanted. She had Blake at her side, and the road to a better life lay open before them. And right now, she had two friends who were happy to provide her with some much-needed release. The Quickening could go hang.

She looked at Lupus' face, grinning at the orgasmic grimace it had been pulled into, then glanced up at Minos, who was panting in post-orgasmic exhaustion above her. "Well, that was fun, boys... think you can go another round, hmm? There's still something I wanna try..." She gave both of them a little squeeze with her powerful, internal muscles, just for emphasis, and felt that they were both still comfortingly hard inside of her. They looked past her head at each other, then grinned and nodded in unison. She smiled beatifically at the two of them, then wriggled her bum a bit as she released her hold on Minos' neck, and instead wrapped her arms around Lupus. "All right, then - Minos, think you can extricate yourself without making your buddy here loose his balance?"

The minotaur shrugged his massive shoulders and bent his legs tightly together, basically sitting on his feet while Lupus lifted her slightly to allow her ass to fully clear the still-hard bullcock. Her sphincter released it only with some reluctance, even as Lupus took a shaky step backwards to give his bull-headed friend enough room to get to his feet. The tall, powerfully-built wolf-man seemed to have little trouble carrying her weight, and with all four of her limbs wrapped around him (and one of HIS limbs safely nestled inside her), there was little danger of her falling off.

She glanced over her shoulder at Minos, grinning. "All right, now take a step backwards, and I'll show you something neat..." No sooner had the minotaur complied before she started moving. Keeping her ankles tightly locked behind Lupus' back, she let go of his neck and leaned her body backwards until she was sticking out nearly vertically from his groin. Bending her head backwards, she got a good look at the familiar girth of the minotaur's cock, still a good foot or so away... due to pointing skywards and all. Reaching up, she grabbed it at the base, and bent it forwards until she could envelop its oval-shaped cockhead in her mouth.

With a gentle grip on the long shaft she guided the minotaur forwards, and he responded, albeit somewhat hesitantly, spearing his turgid length into her throat. She didn't stop pulling until she'd swallowed it to the root, her lips brushing against the coarse hair of his groin while her nose nestled deeply in his scrotum, jostling his massive balls with every breath. He could feel those breaths, cold against the sensitive sack, and looked down with a grunt of surprise. Her throat was bulging out visibly, clearly filled by his cock, but still she was breathing. Ever since she'd learned that this ability was considered unusual to most species, she'd found it amusing to surprise men with it, and even though she couldn't see anything but a pair of dangling balls right now, she could easily imagine the look on his face.

Her arms were now wrapped around Minos' hips, nearly reaching his buttocks, and with a gentle pull and a moan of pleasure that vibrated all the way down her throat to make the minotaur jump slightly with delight, she let them know that they could start moving again. And move they did, with her body suspended as a bridge between them, bouncing her back and forth with their powerful hips and leg-muscles. She wasn't entirely horizontal, though, due to the height-difference between them, leaving Lupus with the lion's share of the heavy lifting. Fortunately, this more dynamic position seemed to have helped him push aside his instinctive need to keep his knot in place - finally, he was using his full length to fuck her with, the knot slipping past her elastic cunt-lips on every thrust.

Meanwhile, even as she felt a fresh orgasm rise from the sensation of that knot stimulating both her labia and clit, she was bending all of her Quickening-induced energy towards giving Minos the most potent blowjob ever. Last time they'd met she'd sucked him off, sure - but the angles involved had prevented her from going deepthroat, and she was compensating for that twice-over by now. Her throat was practically milking him, waves of contractions constantly running down it, and her lips and tongue were tirelessly stimulating every inch as it passed through her oral cavity. She could taste her ass on the shaft, feel the warmth of her own intestines on it, but she'd been doing stuff like that for so long now it barely registered. If anything, it had become a sort of ritual for her - a way to thank someone for a pleasurable ass-fuck by cleaning off any residue that might otherwise stain their pants. Well, Minos didn't WEAR pants, but the principle was the important thing.

Already, she could feel his shaft begin to throb in her throat, in preparation of depositing another load inside of her. That clearly meant she was doing something right, but she certainly hoped he'd be able to keep going afterwards - it was still far too early to stop. Well, bulls WERE practically a symbol of virility, and looking at the size of his balls - which was hard to avoid, what with the way they were rhythmically bouncing off her face - it seemed likely that he had several more loads in store for her... all the better. She had no intention of stopping until both her partners were too exhausted to continue....

Blake grinned down at the horse-girl - Melora, he reminded himself - as he led her away from the crowd. Out the corner of his eye, he could see Anitra busily matching up the other participants into well-balanced little pleasure-groups. She'd probably keep the best ones for herself, of course... which was fair, seeing as he was seeking another partner today too. The grin he was directing down at the filly was predatory to say the least. He was hungry for something... something he hadn't gotten in a while.

Ever since he'd realized that he genuinely loved Anitra, their dynamic had shifted. Indeed, it had been shifting subtly for a while even before that. When they'd first paired up, he had been unquestionably dominant, with her as an eager servant to his desires... but not anymore. Oh, sure, she still did the same things, and had added some new perversions to their repertoire - so he certainly could not claim to be unsatisfied. But even when she was doing something dirty to him - like licking his tailhole or drinking his piss straight from the source - he knew that she wasn't doing it because she'd been ordered to, but because she knew it got him fired up for more vigorous lovemaking later. Or possibly just because she'd developed a taste for it, he wasn't entirely sure. And he also knew that if she suggested that he do something just to pleasure HER, he'd do it.

Not that long ago, he'd spent a few days with a slave-girl in a glass cave beneath the desert sands near Mirage City, and it had reminded him how much fun it could be to have an absolutely obedient submissive around. He wasn't about to trade Anitra in for something more pliable, not by a long shot - he might have lost a servant, but he'd gained something infinitely more precious in return. And yet... he kind of missed it. Missed having someone around that he could use and abuse without his feelings getting in the way. And then this girl, whom he'd bent to his will so long ago, had sought him out again... offering a solution to that particular problem. It wasn't as if he couldn't have both a beloved soulmate AND a submissive sex-slave, after all. In fact, he'd already reached an accord with his rider over their telepathic link - he could keep his horse-girl, and she could keep her drow priestess. Now that was the kind of give-and-take that a solid, long-lasting relationship was built on...

Feeling that he'd put enough distance between them and the rest of the orgy, he stopped, and Melora immediately followed suit. He hadn't actually given her any orders - he'd just started moving, and she'd followed him like the obedient girl she was. He could see that she was breathing heavily, her face flushed... and probably not from the brief walk. She knew what was going to happen next, and could barely contain herself. He'd need to teach her the virtue of patience... later. Right now, he was almost as eager as her.

"Remove your armor for me, child. Slowly. Show me how your body has grown since last time." He loaded his voice with the same absolute authoritarian tone as he had used last time, and her response was immediate. She froze for a second, then her hands began to move with carefully-restrained speed, undoing the buckles that kept her leather armor in place. There wasn't that much of it to remove, anyway - she wore neither boots nor trousers, and her hardened leather vest was sleeveless, though it continued into a segmented leather skirt. Other than that, she only wore a pair of leather gloves, which she'd already pulled off.

As the armor hit the ground, it revealed that beneath it, her breasts were bound tight to her body with cloth bandages - presumably to fit inside the armor in the first place - and that she was wearing simple cotton underwear... with a rather large and visible wet spot on the front. She first unraveled the bandages, letting her bosom expand into its true size - and it was magnificent. They'd definitely grown since last time, and even then she'd been big for her age. They were, indeed, noticeably bigger than Anitra's, mostly covered in the same creamy coat as the rest of her, but the bright-pink nipples at the end were exposed - and fully erect, straining against the air.

Next, her underwear slid down her shapely legs to pool around her hooves. His eyes followed the panties incuriously. If he remembered correctly, she hadn't worn any last time. Perhaps her travels had simply exposed her to the concept of undergarments. He lifted an eyebrow at her as she blushingly kicked them away. "People said I was a slut when I didn't wear them..." she said hesitantly, seemingly reading the question in his eyes. "Men tried to... do things to me. It was easier to just wear it." He chuckled, shaking his head, eyes slightly mocking. "Oh, but you ARE a slut, aren't you, child? You're MY slut..." She nodded, eyes shining, and he could smell the scent of her arousal getting thicker. "And if I told you to give your body to any man who asked, hmm?"

She nodded again, licking her lips. "I would obey, of course. My body is yours. All of it." He grinned at her, then moved his head with snakelike speed to spit a small burst of flame at the soaked undergarments on the ground, turning them into quickly-dispersing ashes in an instant. She jumped, stumbling backwards as he directed his gaze back to her. "Then I suppose you don't need those, do you? I want you to be available and accessible at all times. Ready to bend over and pleasure me between one breath and the next." She nodded vigorously, legs trembling slightly, and his sharp eyes could see the large droplets of pussy-juice running down her thighs, leaving dark streaks in her fair coat.

Savoring her obedience like a fine wind, he leaned his head in closer, mumbling "That's my girl..." as he let the hot air emerging from his nostrils caress her chest. She moaned, her nipples seeming to almost vibrate with desire as he lowered his head further, breathing in the strong scent of her arousal. He breathed again, this time letting the air whisper across her pussy-mound, and he watched with amusement as even this minute stimulation caused her clitoral hood to retract, letting her large, swollen clit out into the air. In a swift movement, he let his long, serpentine tongue lash out, licking up her dripping-wet slit to snap whiplike across the sensitive nub, tasting her desire... and in an instant, she came. Her body convulsed as she nearly collapsed, instinctively thrusting her groin towards his muzzle as she released a spray of her pungent female juices into the air, most of it hitting his tongue or nose.

The smell and taste of it, thick with pheromones, only served to arouse him further... but there was no need to let HER know that. He looked down at her severely as he pulled his tongue back in. "I do not recall giving you permission to cum... let alone to spray it all over my face." Her breath still quick and her legs still shaking, she shrunk back from him, blushing as she looked up at him with fear in her eyes. "I'm so sorry... I couldn't help it... I've been dreaming about this for so long! Please don't turn me away! I'll be good, I promise!"

He harrumphed as if he was seriously considering it, and then gave an exaggerated sigh. "Very well, then, I suppose I shall have to give you a chance to prove your sincerity... you will NOT cum again until I give you permission, is that understood? Now clean this mess off my face, immediately!" She actually had tears in her eyes as she simultaneously confirmed her understanding and rushed up to him again, her tongue reaching out to caress the thin scales of his face. She licked across his lips, let her tongue dive into his nostrils, and caressed the area around his half-closed eyes, taking extreme care to make sure she had removed every drop of her female ejaculate.

"I suppose that will do..." he finally said, pulling his head back, black scales shining with her spit. "Now... get on all fours, and lift your tail. I will take my pleasure from your body now." She obeyed instantly, turning around and dropping down on her hands and knees while her tail curled back along her spine, doing it all with such speed and grace that he could not help but wonder if she'd actually been practicing the maneuver. He licked his lips as he walked over her, covering her body with his own, admitting her curves as he did so. Particularly those wide, child-bearing hips that would instead bear his girth.

He could feel her shivering beneath him as his tapered cockhead brushed across her labia, and her hips flexed back towards him as she attempted to invite him inside. But he lowered his shaft, letting it instead slide between her thighs, teasing her pussy-lips and clits as it slid past. Lowering his head to her ear, he whispered "Don't forget your orders..." She moaned, forcing her body to be still, and finally he pulled back his shaft and gave her what she so desired: The sensation of having her body invaded by his immense, dragon-hot cock.

Her pussy invited his massive shaft inside like an old friend, vast quantities of slippery pussy-juice easing his way. And yet, despite the ways her body had obviously grown in the time since they last met, she was just as tight as she'd been the day he took her virginity. He grinned, feeling suddenly confident that she hadn't resorted to seeking other males (of whatever species), or even any sort of suitably-shaped objects to sate her lust on. That said flattering things about the obsession he'd planted in her.

Still, things WERE noticeably different than last time. Back then, she'd been whimpering in pain as he tore her open, barely restraining herself from screaming. Now, she was moaning in pleasure, her hips moving against him in subtle ways despite her best efforts to prevent them. Even when he took the last step forwards, burying his enormous length to the root inside of her, lodging his cockhead at her cervix, pushing it slightly open... he could tell that she was shaking in barely-contained pleasure, rather than pain. Her body was wrapped tightly around him, barely supporting his size, and she was relishing every cubic inch of it.

Licking his lips as he felt himself gradually lose control of his rising desire, he started to move inside her, fucking her with all of his enormous mass and strength behind each thrust. He didn't bother holding anything back - he hadn't last time, anyway, and she'd only grown stronger since. Indeed, it seemed that her arms - which had been skinny before, and now bulged with muscles - were doing a splendid job keeping her body in place as he rained repeated blows into her pussy. Her breath had become a wheezing sound, her mouth now clamped tightly shut against the moans. He looked down at her face with some amusement, noting the expression of intense concentration on it. She genuinely seemed to be struggling to keep herself from orgasming...

Suddenly, his sharp eyes picked up on the way her jaw-muscles were clenching, and the subtle shivers of pain running through her body. In a flash of logical deduction, he figured out how she was holding the pleasure at bay. One of his front claws swept up to encircle her head, his middle claw poking in between her lips from the side. As her mouth opened slightly - whether in surprise, or as automatic obedience to his gesture - he ran the claw through her mouth and out the open side, keeping her teeth separated. He could smell traces of blood on her breath, now that her mouth was open, confirming his theory.

"Biting your tongue to distract yourself, hmm? Can't have that. This is your punishment, after all - you're SUPPOSED to feel everything..." He bent her head backwards with his claw, forcing her to look up into his eyes, and was amused to see tears in hers - they hadn't been there a moment ago, so they probably weren't from the pain in her tongue. With his claw lodged in her mouth, however, she could say nothing in her own defense. Smiling unpleasantly, Blake let his tongue flicker down to caress her lips. "It seems I will have to acquire a bridle and bit for my young mare... something to keep in mind for the future, I suppose."

He could feel her body melting against his, moans escaping past his claw as her body seemingly became more subtle and responsive. Was it the prospect of being fitted for a bridle that aroused her so, or just the implication that he would be keeping her around? Either way, amusing though it was to feel her breath rushing past his claws, he couldn't fuck her full-strength without all four legs planted on the ground - so he removed the talon from her mouth and returned it to its previous spot. "Keep that mouth open, mare... let me hear your moans."

And moan she did, while seemingly shifting to a new strategy. Before, she'd been resisting her impulse to move with him, locking her hips in place. Now, she was suddenly pushing back against him with all her strength, meeting his every thrust with enough force to squeeze her muscular buns flat against his groin. It took him only two thrusts to realize the logic behind it. Not only was she willfully creating a rougher, more violent mating, she was also enabling him to penetrate another inch or so into her. And considering that his cockhead had been poking into the very edge of her cervix at full penetration before, that was where that extra inch was going, bruising the cervixal opening while stretching it around the first inch and a half of his tapered tool. Just like the trick with her tongue, she was using pain to stave off the pleasure that threatened to push her towards an unauthorized orgasm.

This time, however, he didn't feel like telling her off. It felt too good for that, the powerful tightness closing around the sensitive tip of his tool even as the rest of her birth-canal squeezed down on his long, thick shaft with undiminished strength. And besides, it was obviously a double-edged sword - he could feel the contractions of her pussy quickening, and hear the moans in her throat growing more high-pitched with every thrust.

"Please... *moan* Please, let me cum, Master!" She barely managed to get the words out between the moans and whinnies of pleasure. He chuckled, tongue flicking down to caress her ear. "Not yet, my little filly. Not yet." He was still driving the same powerful thrusts into her, but her strategy was rapidly collapsing. She was writhing underneath him now, muscles straining as she fought to hold off the inevitably orgasm by sheer willpower alone. He toyed with the idea of just continuing until she couldn't hold back anymore, just for an excuse to 'punish' her further... but she HAD fought to protect him earlier that day, after all, and their rekindled relationship was still fresh. This little game needed the right ending to set the tone for the future.

"P-p-pleeasee... I c-can't..." he knew where that sentence was going, and the movements of her body were becoming more and more feverish. Time to take things to the next level. Taking a quick step backwards, he flexed his hips to pull the full length of his cock out of her, hearing a high-pitched shriek of deprivation and despair begin to emerge from her throat as she felt the turgid mass abandon her. However, in a split second, he'd re-targeted his pointy tip at another hole - the tight little one just below her tail - and pushed forwards again. He'd perfected this lightning-fast hole-to-hole switch a while back, under some very desperate circumstances - and he was glad to be able to put it to a somewhat more entertaining use today.

Letting his own inertia carry him forwards, he practically skated across the ground as he pushed his entire shaft inside her tight asshole, eased on his way by a slippery covering of pussy-juice. Having recovered most of its old tightness in the time since last he'd used it, it was once again straining at the sinews to contain him - and as before, he hit the bottom of her intestine a couple of inches before the root of his cock hit her buttocks. The force of the impact pushed her forwards, making her already-shaky arms collapse under her and driving her head into the dirt.

"NOW you can cum! Climax to your heart's content, filly!" He nearly roared, flexing his hips to turn that first, introductory thrust directly into a fierce, punishing rhythm that seemed designed to break her body under his muscular mass. And cum she did, the pleasure she'd been desperately holding back now pouring back into her, overwhelming her mind. Finally, she was allowing herself to fully consider the fact that her long-missed Master was covering her body with his own again, that the day she'd been certain would never come had indeed arrived. He'd complimented her. He'd accepted her. He would keep her. She would never be alone again. The pain in her widely-stretched anus, the friction of the furious fucking, neither mattered against the flood of sensation brought on by these thoughts. Countless nights of wet dreams and stained sheets had become reality. She'd never climaxed so hard, or so many times in a row before.

Blake grinned broadly as he felt her convulsing in ecstasy beneath him. Her ass was squeezing down on him even harder than before as the repeated climactic tremors flashed through it, milking him... not that he'd been very far from cumming himself when he changed holes. With a subdued groan, he shot his load into her darkest depths, and even through the mind-bending pleasure, she managed to stammer out a sentence: "T-t-thhaaank you, M-masterrrr..." The pleasure-wracked voice only made his smile broaden, and his cock harden again before it even had a chance to begin to soften. She would have many more chances to thank him before he was done.

Pfil walked towards the tied-up girl, feeling an odd sense of unreality about it. Usually, that was HER... tied up and at somebody's mercy. She wasn't used to being on the other side of that equation. The girl seemed to shrink away from her a bit, her large, purple eyes filled with fear. Taking a deep breath, Pfil crouched down next to her, bringing her to eye-level. "Please, relax... I won't hurt you. I..." she didn't know how to continue. How did you tell a scared girl that you had to have sex with her in order to prevent somebody else from doing it instead?

But even while she was searching for the right words, the girl seemed to calm down. "Yes... you don't seem like a bad person." Her voice was accented, but quite understandable. Pfil nodded. "I don't think I am, either... but... I'm going to have to do some things to you. I'm sorry. It's the only way to keep the men away from you. You... prefer girls, right? Like me?" The blonde girl blushed at this, eyes flickering in the direction the dark-haired one had been taken. "I... guess so, yes. Chikane... the girl who was with me... I care about her. She'll be all right, won't she?"

Pfil's eyes glanced in the same direction. Back there, most of the others seemed to be coming together in the beginnings of an orgy, splitting up into little groups. She couldn't see the dark-haired priestess, but she knew she'd been dragged away into a little grove by that silver-furred dog. What was happening to her now, she didn't know... she couldn't help her. But she could help this girl. She nodded. "She'll survive, that much I know. Maybe she'll have a rough time of it, but... she'll be okay. She'll have you, after all, right? And I'll keep you safe in the meantime. As long as I'm with you, none of the men will touch you."

The blonde priestess nodded, large eyes filled with trust. "Thank you. My name is Himeko. What's yours?" "I'm Pfil... and... I'm sorry about this." She couldn't risk waiting any longer. The girl was sitting with her back against a tree, her hands tied to it above her head. She didn't resist when Pfil pulled her pants off - they were airy and loose, and came off easily. Getting her shirt off would have been problematic, so she just left it hanging open, exposing the young girl's pert little breasts. Only a pair of simple, white, cotton panties were left covering her privates, and she blushed furiously as Pfil delicately pulled them down her long, shapely legs to put them aside. She did not resist, however.

Even as she crawled up close to the girl, however, she couldn't deny a certain... attraction. She WAS a very pretty girl, after all. Pfil dearly loved her partner, Pamila - but Pamila was hardly what one might call faithful. Her dark-haired partner's passion for dicks, whatever they might be attached to, often led her away from their nest - but despite that, Pfil had never deliberately sought pleasure from anyone else. Until now. It was a strange feeling, being the instigator of something like that, with an unfamiliar girl. An unfamiliar body for her fingers and lips to explore.

Himeko moaned in surprise as Pfil's lips closed on one of her nipples, sucking gently. The moan rose in pitch when her fingers gently dug into the soft folds of her pussy, and her legs started moving seemingly on their own, flopping around. Pfil had plenty of practice with this - she knew where all the most sensitive points were on a fairy's pussy, and just how roughly you could stimulate them without causing discomfort. And in that part, at least, humans and fairies were apparently identical. Her free hand rested gently on the girl's thigh, keeping at least one of her legs still, while her other hand continued to skillfully tease her most sensitive erogenous zone.

She switched between nipples every few minutes, sucking and licking the nerve-rich little nubs, inciting them to raised sensitivity just before leaving them covered in spit and exposed to the cool air. Himeko was moaning in a particularly cute way, at least to Pfil's ears - the sound often broken up by a sharp intake of breath as she threw her head around, eyes tightly closed. Pfil knew an approaching orgasm when she saw one, and redoubled her efforts, moving her free hand to stimulate the left nipple, rolling and pinching it between two fingers, while focusing her mouth on the right. At the same time, her thumb gently brushed the girl's clit, with several of the other fingers moving rapidly inside the increasingly moist orifice beneath it.

The tied-up priestess came, with a little scream that rose rapidly through the octaves and then dropped off again. Pfil felt a sudden wetness surround her busy fingers and smiled gently. Hopefully, this would help Himeko relax. Then, with the foreplay out of the way, she lowered her head, using her hands to firmly push her thighs open. The pussy she found there was small and pink, with a tiny bush of blond hair above it. She hesitated only for a second before leaning forwards, covering it with her mouth.

The taste was different from a fairy's, she noticed immediately. Much less sweet, more tangy, with a bit of saltiness to it. Not unpleasant, really - just different. Her long, agile tongue - well-practiced from many a day and night spent with Pamila - quickly set to work exploring its depths, adding a different, stronger stimulation to the points her fingers had been caressing seconds earlier. Within minutes, Himeko was screaming in orgasm again. And again. And again. The fairy's practiced tongue sent a string of climaxes rolling through her young body, filling her mind with a magnitude of pleasure she hadn't dreamed existed.

It went on and on for what seemed like an eternity, the tongue inside her pussy adjusting its movements with seemingly prescient precision to account for the gradually increased sensitivity there, maintaining a constant peak of pure pleasure. In truth, however, it was 'only' around half an hour before Pfil had to pull her head out from between her thighs, panting slightly, delicate cheekbones stained by pussy-juice. Her tongue was tiring quickly under the stress, and she had to remind herself to pace it - she wasn't sure how long the orgy would last, but she figured she'd need to keep going at least until it got dark.

Himeko regained her breath at the same time as Pfil did, and just before the fairy was about to lower her head back to the moist cavern of her pussy, she spoke up. "Wait... you don't need to do all the work, do you? They just need to see us together, right? I... I can do it too. It's not fair for you to be the only one working hard." The suggestion made Pfil blush. In truth, she was eager to accept the girl's proposal - while she'd been busy licking away, her own pussy had been left untouched, and it was rather grumpily informing her brain of this deplorable state of affairs. She had, in fact, just been thinking that she could probably spare a hand to keep it occupied while she continued.

But she hadn't come here for her own pleasure's sake - she'd come to PROTECT this poor girl, and she quickly shook her head. "No, no, you don't need to do that. I can easily keep going, don't worry about it." Himeko's big eyes took on an abandoned-puppy-dog look, and her lips trembled slightly. "Oh... you think I'd be terrible at it, don't you? You're probably right. I've never actually tried it. I'm sure I'd be absolutely useless at it anyway... I'm sorry I suggested something like that." Pfil quickly redoubled her head-shaking. "NO, no, that's not what I meant at all! It's just... I'm here to help you! I'm not expecting anything in return."

Suddenly, the big, trembling eyes turned hard as amethysts. "Chikane went away with that black-armored woman to protect me. You're wearing yourself out making me feel good, to protect me. People always think I need protection, but I'm not that weak." She suddenly glanced up at the ropes tying her hands to the tree-trunk behind her. "Well... I suppose I'm not in a position to say something like that right now, though." The last part was delivered with a small, sad grin. Then her eyes refocused on Pfil. "Please, just let me do something, other than just sitting here and being protected."

The fairy hesitated for a moment, then nodded and got to her feet in order to pull her black leather bikini-bottom down. Himeko watched her movements with rising arousal. Even with the tongue gone from her pussy, the memories of the pleasure it had brought stayed with her. In all the time since her and Chikane had acknowledged their feelings for each other, they hadn't done something like that... just kissed and fondled one another a bit. Now it seemed like a terrible waste. She knew Chikane had been holding back, afraid to hurt her like their first night together... well, no more. Once this was all over, she'd make it clear to her friend and lover that oral pleasures were perfectly all right. And maybe this would be good practice for that...

Having discarded her panties, Pfil glanced up at the rope binding Himeko to the tree. She'd left her rapier behind at the campsite, and walking back there at this point would be... awkward. And the knots were far too tight for her to undo with her fingers. She hesitated again, unsure, but Himeko just smiled at her, showing that she understood the situation and its implications. The fairy took a deep breath in response, gingerly stepped around the bound priestess' legs, and straddled her face, holding on to the tree-trunk for support as she pushed her groin into the girl's mouth.

Himeko's head was caught between the fairy's dripping-wet cunt, and the hard wood behind her. It seemed a rather perverted position, but under the circumstances, it was the only one available to them. So rather than hold it against the gentle-seeming fairy, she instead just breathed in the sweet scent of the other girl's crotch as she parted her lips and let her tongue out to caress the smooth, moist folds. The taste was instantly addicting - sweet, yet refreshing, like thick fruit-juice. It washed away what concerns she still had about this, and she quickly opened her mouth to encompass the entire, juice-drenched pussy-mound.

She had only the vaguest idea about what kind of techniques to use, based on her own sensations during Pfil's skillful assault on her own slit - but she'd been too discombobulated by the constant waves of pleasure to take much in the way of mental notes. So instead, she simply focused on licking up as much of those delicious juices as she could, sucking them directly out of the juicy hole while running her tongue around the insides to pick up more. That, as it turned out, was actually a fairly effective technique - helped along by the fact that Pfil was very horny at that point, and that she'd always been sensitive. She was moaning in pleasure within a minute of this treatment, gushing more juices into Himeko's thirsty mouth.

The rising tide of her first orgasm swept away Pfil's reservations, and she instinctively started to take advantage of the leverage her position lent her. By the time she came - filling Himeko's mouth with a flood of fairy nectar, assaulting her senses of taste and smell with its addictive sweetness - she was using it without restraint, grinding her groin into the helpless priestess' face while holding it in place with her thighs. Himeko couldn't move her head or speak, and could barely breathe what with having her nose mashed into Pfil's pelvic bone more often than not. She had no way of backing out now, or of saying enough. The sweet taste of the fairy's juices was making her own pussy buzz with desire, and she found herself suddenly desperate to feel that well-trained tongue there again, or at least those just-as-skilled fingers... but with her fairy lover in the throes of pleasure, grinding her face like a living sex-toy, she had no way of communicating that. The idle thought of using this opportunity to work up her own oral skills was suddenly brought to the forefront by the realization that her pussy would go achingly untouched until she'd managed to fully satisfy Pfil. And so, with enormously bolstered enthusiasm, she set about digging into the fairy's sensitive folds with her lips and tongue, her own desire growing with every mouthful of sweet, pheromone-laden nectar...

Kain looked down at the girl writhing in his claws, an expression of undiluted terror on her face, and grinned. He was using to seeing fear in the eyes of mortals - it was the spice of his mealtimes, adding a sharp tinge of adrenaline to their sweet, sweet blood. Even now that he'd found a different reason to hunt, he still enjoyed sampling it. Their hopelessness and despair as they found themselves helpless between his inhumanly-strong claws had become like a fine win, making the main course all the more delicious as he devoured their virtue.

And right now, he was hungrier than he'd ever been. His blood was burning with dragonfire, filling his mind with long-forgotten desires. It was, as he had suspected, far more intense than the first time he'd sampled the blood of the DragonRider, in the Tomb of the Golden Knight. His habitual thirst for blood was entirely covered by this new, all-encompassing lust. It was fortuitous that this girl had already been condemned to death, for he rather doubted that he'd be able to exercise any sort of restraint when he took her body.

His sharp claws swiftly shredded the simple dress she wore, and her underwear barely had a split second to see the light of day before it followed suit. Shreds of the dress remained around the ropes that bound her arms behind her back, but they'd hardly get in the way... which was more than could be said for the improvised cloth gag that filled her mouth. He'd come to rather enjoy the oral pleasures a woman could bring... especially when she was motivated to do her best by spine-chilling terror and the dim hope that he'd spare her life if she did well. But considering the power of this girl's voice he'd have to pass on that, this time. Well, he'd just have to use her other orifices to compensate...

His foot-long, two-inch-thick cock was rock-hard and straining against his trousers, as it had been doing since he sunk his fangs into the DragonRider's throat. Now, he released it, and enjoyed the added fear in the girl's eyes as she saw it. The bony ridges down the shaft, the pronounced edge to the bottom of the crown... Anitra had obviously enjoyed it back then, but of the women he'd claimed since, only one or two had displayed any sign of pleasure as he penetrated them. Most of them had screamed in pain as the scale-like plates dug into their sensitive flesh. Well, at least the gag would prevent _that_in this case.

Pushing her down on her back, he easily spread her resisting legs with his powerful hands, and was rewarded with the sight of a simple, undeveloped slit underneath a tuft of thin, reddish-brown hair. The girl was still quite young, and obviously inexperienced in these matters. He would enjoy educating her... but of course, there was one minor problem: There was no sign of moisture on the tight little cunny, and a prodding claw confirmed that the same was the case inside. Terror was not exactly conducive to arousal or the lubrication that came with it. This problem had caused some... issues the first few times he'd hunted down mortal women. So he'd learned to compensate.

He pulled a bottle of oil from his belt, and poured several spoonfuls over his erect tool, carefully applying it across the dry surface with his other hand. He then poured a bit more over the girl's tiny slit, making her jump as she felt its slick touch. Now he was ready - and entirely out of patience. Only the self-control born of millennia as a vampire, slave to his bloodlust, had enabled him to hold back for this long. With no further reason to hesitate, he once again pulled the girl's legs apart as he lowered himself on top of her.

Her body writhed beneath his weight, in pain, fear and desperation, as his hard, oil-slicked cockhead forced open her young labia and tore apart the maidenhood hiding behind them. Her body was still teetering on the edge of adulthood, perhaps ready for a man - but certainly not ready for Kain. The hot, tight walls of her pussy bore down on his cock, sending waves of pleasure through him even as the bone-ridges ground across the sensitive, virgin flesh to send stabs of pain through her. But her movements only aroused him further, awakening his predatory instincts. He held her tight as his hips began to drive his rippled shaft into her with piston-like power, relishing her futile attempts to escape.

Filled by desire, he came twice in a short space of time, watching her fear-drenched face below him as he did. His corpse-cold seed, having long-since lost the ability to carry any spark of life, filled her womb, making her shiver in disgust. By the second time, however, her desperate writhing had stopped, and she was just laying there, head turned to the side, eyes tightly closed as she let him work off his horniness on her body in mute acceptance of its inevitability. And that, Kain decided, was no fun at all.

Before his death, his knowledge of sexuality had been quite simple - dick goes in pussy, man on top, hump hump. In the eons since, he'd had little reason to study the art of human sexuality in any way. But in the months that had passed since encountering Anitra on that remote island and having his long-dormant lust reawakened, he'd worked hard to catch up on his studies in that area. And he'd learned swiftly. Pushing himself up, he withdrew his dripping cock from the tight folds of her pussy, the selective focus of a vampire drawing his eyes to the bloodstains along the bone-ridges.

Then, kneeling behind her, he turned the unresisting girl over on her stomach, and - with a firm grip on her hips - pulled her up to her knees. Her ass was firm, almost boyish, lacking the ripe curves of a grown woman - but that wasn't about to deter him. With one hand on her hips and another guiding his cock, he steered the bony tip of his tool towards her tiny, virgin asshole. She didn't react when the cold, slick surface first touched it, probably not realizing his intentions in her innocence. But when he pushed forwards, using his enormous strength to forcibly part her sphincter and allow his cock entrance, she certainly responded.

Once again, she was writhing in pain, trying to get away as muffled screams escaped from her gag. But of course, Kain was ready, and now that he'd gotten his cockhead anchored inside her, he had a claw free to reach forwards and grab her tied-together hands. Using them as leverage, he pulled her entire body backwards, pushing his hips forwards at the same time, giving her body no choice but to accept his girth or break apart. Lubricated by blood and oil, his shaft disappeared inside her anus, the bony ridges tormenting her tautly-stretched sphincter on the way.

His desires buoyed by her renewed struggle, Kain fucked her with unrestrained ferocity. Her tight buttocks provided little insulation from his groin as every thrust pushed him inside her to the root, smashing her violently forwards - only for his iron grip to pull her back for the next thrust, shaking her entire body. The hard ridges of his shaft were creating tiny lacerations in the tautly-stretched fabric of her intestine, adding more lubrication in the form of blood, and more pain to the girl's torment... which of course only served to make her flop around more, to his delight.

Already, he could feel another load building in his sack, ready to be pumped into her delightfully writhing ass. It would be the first of many, he knew - the fires of his lust was still far from slaked, and by the end of it, this girl's sphincter would be nothing but a bleeding crater. She'd be begging him to put her out of her misery... well, if it wasn't for the gag, anyway. Groaning at that delightful thought, Kain threw his head back and flexed his hips even more powerfully than usual, driving his cock inside her as deep as it could go as he unleashed his load.

But the orgasmic bliss was shattered when a sudden, blinding headache shot through his skull, while a loud noise assaulted his sensitive, vampiric ears.

The noise rolled across the camp and its passionately intertwined residents like a roar of thunder. None of them had ever heard it before - the bark of a flintlock pistol. Erotic movements stopped in their tracks, and all eyes turned towards the source of the sound: A garishly-dressed man standing on the edge of the plateau above them, the battlefield they'd left behind. The smoking gun was in his hand, his arm outstretched, pointing it directly at where Kain had been busy working off his desires on the captured songstress. Kain had stumbled back from her, his cock swinging free as he fell on his ass. A smoking hole crowned his forehead, and a slight sizzling sound could be heard emerging from it.

"Oh, this guy MUST have a deathwish..." Anitra mumbled as she reluctantly extricated herself from Minos and Lupus, rolling across the ground to where she'd left her armor and weapon. She didn't bother with the armor - not enough time - but simply grabbed BlackFire and got to her feet. Blake was already at her side, having covered the space between them in an instant, his cock swinging wetly between his thighs... failing to detract in any way from the fact that he was a huge, angry, black dragon. "Think we can get to him before the vampire does?" He asked her conversationally as they started towards the ridge.

Kain had, indeed, picked himself up from the ground with remarkable speed. With one hand, he was belting his trousers again, forcing his still-hard erection inside, while the other hand dug into his forehead with two claws. With a meaty sound, he pulled the projectile out of into the air, a brief spurt of dark blood following behind it. He looked down at the squished ball in his hand and chuckled slightly. "Silver. A silver ball for your flintlock, eh pirate? Clever, I'll grant you. Makes an otherwise useless weapon effective against vampires, werewolves, ghosts and various other creatures of the night. Too bad for you I'm a tad less... fragile than most of my peers. And I know enough about those weapons to know that it'll take you at least a minute or two to reload."

The pirate shrugged, sticking his flintlock back in his belt. "More like four or five minutes, actually. I tend to fumble those little gunpowder-packets." Kain just gave him a fang-filled grin, striding forwards with his claws spread wide, not even bothering to go pick up his terrible sword. The pirate returned the grin in a somewhat strained manner, then hefted the sack he'd been holding over one shoulder with his left hand, using his now-free right to swing it around and send it sailing above the vampire's head. Blake, seeing it heading in his direction, suddenly imagined it exploding violently, shrapnel ripping through his unarmored lover.

Moving with draconic speed, he interjected his body between Anitra and the sack as it hit the ground... with a jangling, metallic sound. All eyes in the camp were on the sack as it tumbled, gold and gemstones spilling from it. "Treasure. I hear dragons are partial to it. Think that might buy me a few minutes to say my piece?" The pirate had jumped down from the higher plateau, rolling nimbly to his feet as he walked past Kain - who'd stopped in his tracks to follow the sack with his eyes just like everyone else - without even looking at him. The elder vampire looked like he couldn't quite decide whether to just tear the pirate's heart out from behind right away, or stop for a couple of seconds just to admire the sheer balls of the guy first.

Blake poked the sack with one extended claw, watching the treasure spill out. There were enough valuable in that sack to set a human being up for life, never needing to work again. He chuckled. "You bring a bribe and come to negotiate... and then open the dialogue by shooting one of us in the head?" The pirate stopped in his tracks, arms outspread, and then twirled on his feet to face Kain. "Oh, right, that. Sorry about that - but like you said yourself, it did no real harm, right? I just figured it might... get your attention." He then minced over to him, and pointed at the silver ball in his hand. "D'ya think I might get that back? I like to reuse them. Recycling, you know. It's all the rage."

An unholy laugh barked from Kain's throat, and he threw the silver ball in a smooth arc into the pirate's hand. The garishly-dressed man juggled it for a few seconds before getting a firm grip on the slippery metal, then stuck it in a pocket. "You are one entertaining mortal... I feel inclined to let you live for a few more minutes, just to see what more insanity you might spout. Please, don't mind me, go ahead with your... negotiations." Kain's smile was as wide as it was vicious, his fangs much in appearance, but the pirate gave no indication of being intimidated - he just made a grandiose bow, tipping his tricorne hat, and then turned around to walk back towards Blake again.

"There, see? It was a perfectly sensible way to open negotiations." His grin was not quite as wide as Kain's, but nearly as shiney - mostly due to several gold teeth. Blake laughed. "I'm inclined to agree with the vampire... you ARE entertaining. Just what is it that you want, hmm? You'd already gotten away - there was hardly any reason for you to come here just to bargain for your life." The pirate swung his arm grandiosely. "Bargain? Oh no, I'm just here to offer you some gifts of reconciliation! Allow me to explain..."

He was moving constantly as he talked, his hands and arms as loud as his mouth, while he constantly paced back and forth. "Ah, allow me to introduce myself... I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, formerly a man of the sea. I never were much given to this whole 'adventuring' business, you see, but we have a saying on the high seas - any port in a storm. Of course, when those lunatics offered me a berth, I didn't know what kind of terrible, evil, just plain UNPLEASANT-type people they were, savvy?" He emphasized his low opinion of his former allies with several grand gestures before continuing.

"O' course, them being such vicious sorts, there wasn't much of any way out of it for me - not without several arrows finding their way into my back on the way. But after a while, there was another reason I stayed... a poor, innocent lass who'd been cruelly deceived by the fanatical nutters running the show. Oh, I spent sleepless nights wondering how I could get her out of there, before she damned her immortal soul by the things they made her do." Anitra rolled her eyes at the melodrama, but Blake just lifted an eyebrow, waiting for the 'captain' to continue.

"But of course, thanks to you and your... fine crew..." He made a sweeping gesture of the varied creatures surrounding him. "...I finally got my chance to get away! But of course, I couldn't in good conscience leave an innocent girl behind to suffer for crimes she did not know she was committing. So I went and collected all the ill-gotten treasure my companions had plundered from the hard of honest, hard-working dragons, and brought it here to you as a peace-offering."

Blake's eyes were narrowing dangerously. "So... this 'innocent girl'... who would that be, exactly?" Jack pointed over his shoulder, very carefully NOT looking at the captured songstress' naked form, lying where Kain had discarded it. "That would be the one, right there." The black dragon breathed out heavily, his hot breath making Jack's clothes flutter slightly. "I thought as much. If it had been one of the priestesses you were after, I'd almost have been halfway tempted to play along. But..." His eyes were sharp now, and his fangs were showing... but the pirate still seemed unperturbed.

"Yes, yes, I know... she enslaved dragons with her voice. Terrible thing, really, with those two big ones. Not to mention all those little whelps, and the eggs!" Jack Sparrow nodded, stroking his short, braided beard. Blake froze at the last part. "Whelps... and eggs?" Suddenly, his nose was twitching. The pirate just nodded, affecting an expression of surprise. "Oh, you didn't know? Well, I suppose you wouldn't. That guy who fancied himself a dragon-trainer - Lance - he'd nabbed a whole bunch of little dragon-whelps, and some eggs, in all those places they'd hit. I didn't like that much - I'm an honest pirate, and I don't object to a spot of plundering, but stealing kids to enslave them, that's a tad below me. Not that anyone was asking for my opinion, mind."

Anitra looked sharply up at Blake, and he nodded. He's not lying, annoyingly enough. I can smell them on him, now that I'm paying attention. Almost too keenly. Like he'd been rubbing his hands all over them just to pick up their scent. Anitra turned her eyes back to the pirate. When he first announced his presence, she'd wondered if he was insanely brave, or just insane. Now she was realizing a third possibility - he might just be a whole lot more clever than he looked. She still wasn't sure where he was going with this, but that just made things more problematic.

Jack Sparrow was still rubbing his beard thoughtfully, waiting for them to finish exchanging glances before he continued. "You know, it's a shame about them... all those poor, innocent, helpless little dragons. They're all locked in a magic circle back at camp... I guess if nothing's done about them, they'll all just starve to death. Which would be horrible. Maybe you could take them to a dragonhome where they can be happily adopted and live long, fulfilling lives, eh matey? But... oh, I think I've heard somewhere that BLACK dragons aren't regularly considered welcome in those sorts of places. Terrible thing that."

Blake gave him a flat glare. "You're suspiciously well-informed for a pirate." He returned the glare with a grin, flouncing around again. "Oh, well, I know lots of stuff - but for some reason, it keeps surprising people. Judging the book by the cover and all that." He put a finger to his chin as if he'd just had an idea. "Oh, wait! There's an idea - I could deliver those poor innocent kids to a dragonhome meself! I even happen to know where one is - the next port of call of that merry little enterprise you so conclusively put an end to earlier today."

Blake's voice was unamused. "Oh, could you, at that?" The pirate lifted a finger in the air and opened his mouth, then put it back down, stroking his beard and closing his mouth while looking deep in thought for a few seconds. Then he spoke up again. "Well, certainly, I could... but not all by me onesies, I couldn't. I mean, those little anklebiters don't listen to ME. Herding dragons is even harder than herding cats, or so I hear. I'd need some help, I suppose... from someone who's good at handling dragons, and eager to find a way to redeem herself after unknowingly using her abilities for evil. Y'wouldn't happen to know where I could find someone like that, would ye?"

Blake groaned, scratching his head with one claw. In a straight fight, he was one of the most dangerous creatures in the world, but all his might and magic didn't help any against the pirate's twisted logic. Maybe they could take the whelps with them to the Dragon Utopia? But how'd they transport them? And besides, the Utopia was a small, isolated place. The sudden influx of a cartload of children and eggs would cause a major disruption. Food, space, water... he just didn't know enough about the state of the Utopia to risk something like that when there was a viable alternative.

He glanced down at Anitra, conveying his thoughts to her telepathically, and she sighed as she walked past the captain - and Kain - to where the songstress laid bound. The girl was a mess - the despair on her face had been broken up by a sudden hope, but it was still wrought with pain, and blood was dripping from her ass. Anitra pulled her up, and grabbed the gag covering her mouth. "Start singing, and my sword will be letting the air out of you before you're done with the first note." She growled at her, meaning every word as she reluctantly removed the gag.

The girl closed her mouth tightly as soon as the gag was gone, her jaw-muscles visibly straining while her rapid breath whistled through her nose. She remained like that as Anitra pulled her, stumbling somewhat on her shaky legs, over next to Jack Sparrow. He was still studiously avoiding looking directly at her naked body. Blake lowered his head, looking directly at the girl as his tongue flickered serpentlike from his mouth, tasting her fear in the air. "Well, girl? This pirate talks a good game, but what do YOU have to say for yourself?" Finally, her mouth opened, her jaw still vibrating as if she was having a hard time controlling it.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" She wailed, her knees nearly buckling. "Saint George told me I was a 'chosen of the Allfather', and that dragons were all evil creatures like demons... but I knew something was off when Lance started picking up little dragons from their nests. Demons don't have children. I should have known it was wrong. I just... I never had a place to belong before. They liked my voice. They wanted me to sing, instead of telling me not to. I should've known they were lying..." Tears were running from her eyes, and she was leaning heavily forwards - she would've fallen over if Anitra hadn't been holding her up by one arm.

"I only realized what I'd done when I heard you talking... about children being forced to fight their parents. About... enslaved minds. That's when I realized what I'd been doing all this time. He said I was cleansing the evil from their minds, turning them into a force for good. But I was just turning them into slaves. And... even when you said I had to die, I couldn't blame you." Anitra realized with rapidly-increasing annoyance that she was starting to feel sorry for this crying girl. Just as she'd feared. Even though the girl hadn't exactly shared her life story, she'd said enough to give Anitra the impression that she hadn't had an easy life. Enough to make her sympathize. Enough to bring her 'human' side to the forefront, despite her draconic side still insisting that the girl was far too dangerous to let live.

Blake glanced over at her, sensing her shifting emotions through their telepathic bond. He, too, had become accustomed to these somewhat annoying sparks of humanity she was prone to... but it was part of what made her Anitra, and thus part of what made him love her. And this time, he was glad for it. He let her feelings of sympathy flow into him through the telepathic link, easing the insistent, paranoid voice in his head that was telling him that no amount of pleas or apologies could make her any less dangerous, and that the chance that she'd eventually change her mind about how justified mind-control singing was or wasn't, however minute, was still too high to allow. Black or not, he was still a dragon. If he left a whole clutch of hatchlings to die in the wilderness, he'd never forgive himself. The Dragon-Slayers had already carved a big hole in the rather slow-growing dragon population - the recovery of those eggs and hatchlings would at least limit the damage.

And the pirate's suggestion was about the only possible way of arranging that. Herding hatchlings was, indeed, difficult - even for fully-grown dragons. The girl's voice made it possible. And the pirate knew a place to take them. He sighed loudly, closing his eyes for a second. The only sound heard in the camp was the breathing of the people and creatures assembled there, mostly calm - and the hoarse sobbing of the girl. Then he opened his eyes. "It seems we have a deal, then."

Jack smiled broadly, but Blake ignored him for now to fix the suddenly-hopeful girl with his reptilian eyes. "Girl. Tell me your name." "Menolly, sir." He nodded. "You were ready to lose your life in repayment for your sins. I trust that the possibility of instead paying them back by working as a babysitter is acceptable to you?" She nodded eagerly, her body starting to relax after hours of being soaked with terrified adrenaline. Blake's suddenly predatory smile, however, brought her fear back to the forefront.

"That's nice... but I hope you understand, I'll need a bit more than just your word." His claws started drawing a complex pattern in front of him, the light dimming as he drew a dark symbol from the nearby shadows. Then, he wrapped the darkness around one of his claws and reached forwards, jabbing it into Menolly's chest right between her still-underdeveloped breasts. The claw penetrated only a few millimeters, but it still drew a sharp cry of pain from her.

"By your name I bind you, by your soul I charge you - Menolly! Swear that you will only use your voice to AID dragons, and never to harm or hurt them - or even to protect your own life." With a sharp intake of breath, she steadied her voice. "I swear it." Blake pulled back his claw, but the darkness stayed, forming an oddly-shifting pattern on her chest - a symbol that seemed to exist in more dimensions than the human eye was designed to perceive. Off to the side, Lezard Valeth whistled appreciatively. As a student of runic magic himself, he knew mastery of it when he saw it.

Blake grinned down at the girl. "Good enough. If you break your word, that spell will tear your soul from your flesh and rend it into a thousand fragments. No afterlife, no last-minute resurrections, not even a chance to become a good ol' fashioned ghost. Just an eternity spent in indescribable, unceasing agony. So, you know... when you get to the dragonhome with those whelps, if the dragons there decide to kill you? You're probably better off just letting them." The terror that had been burning in the girl's eyes since she was captured was back in spades, but she held her tongue and nodded. Anitra let go of her arm and, with a swift and precise cut of her sword, removed the ropes that had bound the girl's hands. She sank to the ground then, hugging herself, head bowed as she tried to make herself as small as possible.

Jack suddenly stepped forwards, his loose white seaman's shirt in his hands, and laid it over her bare shoulders. She looked up at him with gratitude in her gaze, then pulled the thin fabric tightly around her. Anitra raised an eyebrow at the pirate, and he shrugged at her. "Well, I figured the big guy would want to put that fancy spell on me too, since I'm such a famously untrustworthy fellow - and I wouldn't want my shirt getting all torn up in the process."

Blake snorted. "You're damn right I'm putting it on you too. I still have no idea what your game is, but I wasn't hatched yesterday, so I'm obviously not buying your altruistic motives. Heck, considering how many prostitutes you could've bought yourself with all that treasure, I don't even buy that you're here just to save the girl." The pirate looked up at him with an impudent grin. "Well, matey, the way I see it - if you don't know what it is that I'm trying to do, then you can't make me promise not to do the thing that I'm going to do if you don't tell me not to do it - savvy?"

The dragon opened and closed his mouth a few times while trying to make heads or tails of that sentence, then just glared fiercely at the pirate. "Oh, I wish that spell worked for broad generalities... bah. I'll just have to settle for the obvious, I guess." His claws were again drawing complicated patterns in the air, drawing in the darkness from the surrounding shadows. The pirate, however, didn't flinch at all when Blake pierced the skin on his chest with one claw. "By your name I bind you, by your soul I charge you - Jack Sparrow! Swear that you will escort Menolly, the whelps and the eggs to the nearest populated dragonhome you know of, without hurting any of them. That you will protect them on the way, even if it costs you your life. And..." Blake's smile grew nasty. "That you will never steal from another dragon's hoard."

The pirate glanced over at the fallen sack of treasure, sighed longingly, and then spoke. "I swear. So - our bargain is complete now, I trust?" Blake nodded as he watched the symbol coalesce on the pirate's bare chest. "I suppose it is. Take your songstress and get out of my sight." Jack nodded and gently helped the still-crying Menolly to her feet, guiding her in the direction of the ridge he'd jumped down from just a little while earlier. Then, after a few steps, he paused and looked back over his shoulder. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot... you captured a couple of cuties dressed up all foreign-like too, right?" Blake shrugged. "You mean those two priestesses, right? Yeah - what of it? You gonna tell me they're misguided innocents too?"

Jack grinned. "Mebbe one o' them. But you weren't planning on killing them anyway, right?" Blake sighed. "No, not really. We'll let 'em go when we've had our fun with them. I'm sure that'll serve as a reminder to them not to screw around with dragons again in the future." The pirate nodded, seemingly unconcerned with the implication of what THEY were going through right now - the gunshot had brought Pfil and Silver Fang running back to the camp, but their respective captives were still where they'd left them - out of sight.

"Well, I was just thinking - when you're done with them, could ya let 'em know that me and Menolly will be taking on that little dragon-transporting quest and all? Couldn't hurt to have a few more deckhands along, and we'll probably be back at the old campsite getting ready for a while." Blake snorted at this. "Sure, 'Captain'. I'll let them know you're looking for crewmen. I don't suppose they have a lot of OTHER places to go from here, after all." Jack replied with a grin and a casual wave, then started back towards the ridge... only to find his path blocked by Kain's lean, grey-skinned body.

The pirate smiled winningly at him. "Something the matter, matey? I thought we got our business squared earlier." The vampire shook his head. "Not quite, Sparrow... you attacked me. People who attack me don't get to stay alive. It's kind of a rule I have. It would set a... bad precedence if I let you get away with it." "Kain..." Anitra's voice was not quite pleading, but definitely carried a similar note. He sighed. "HOWEVER... I am part of this... 'crew', I suppose you'd call it, right now. So I'll abide by the 'captain's decision. But this is very much a temporary thing... and once you're done with your little errand, and have delivered the dragons to their new home... then I'll come for you. You won't know when, or where, or how. One moment, you'll simply realize that my claw is closing around your heart."

Jack Sparrow's face turned uncharacteristically serious for a moment, then it cracked open in a broad smile as he carefully guided his charge around the unpleasantly-grinning vampire. "Well, I suppose everyone needs a hobby, mate. But let me just tell you... this isn't the first time I've had an ancient, immortal, terrifyingly-mutated freak o' nature dogging my every step, out for my blood. But I'm still here. And he... isn't." He tipped his well-worn tricorne hat at Kain as he walked past him. "But I don't expect that to stop you. Just remember, when you come looking for me... it's CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow."

Once the 'Captain' had disappeared over the rim of the plateau with the songstress, the interrupted orgy gradually got back on track. Of course, they were a woman short now, but Anitra generously offered Kain the use of her own body for satisfying his lust, and proceeded to explore several different ways to have hard cocks in all three of her main orifices at the same time. She kind of wanted to explore the recently-discovered pleasures of peehole-fucking some more too, but between Minos' size, Lupus' knot and Kain's bone-ridges, she figured she'd best stick to the 'Main 3'.

As the party wore on, the flow of sweat, sex-juices and hormones gradually made the whole thing more fluid, with the discreet groups she'd arranged near the start flowing together and switching out members more frequently. She didn't even mind losing Minos to Pamila when she got Lezard Valeth - recently shrunken back to human size as his alchemical booster wore off - in return. Lezard's normal-sized human cock would normally have been scant source of excitement for her, but now it offered her an opportunity to scratch that abiding itch in her bladder - and the perverted necromancer had no problem helping her with that.

A while later, Umberto delivered Direza back to her, reporting that the girl had been very good indeed. The dark elf looked somewhat exhausted, and the ragged, half-open condition of both her pussy and ass spoke of her hard work. Nonetheless, her face lit up with energy when Anitra pulled her into a tight kiss - tasting the Umber Hulk's cum, and other, more bitter residue in her mouth - while stroking her hair and complimenting her.

Anitra was not surprised that Pamila was quite willing to provide Direza with her 'reward' despite being in the middle of riding Minos' huge bull-cock, and the lithe elf-girl soon found herself sitting on the massive minotaur's broad chest while the elf's highly skilled tongue taught her new pleasures. What DID surprise Anitra somewhat, however, was Pamila's slightly-awkward request that she return the favor by giving her ass a good fisting in the meantime. Their first meeting, back in the forest, hadn't involved any ass-play, but when she found the fairy's sphincter hungrily devouring not just her fist, but also her arm nearly up to the elbow, she was forced to conclude that Pamila had merely had a lively appreciation for anal stretching that hadn't come up before.

And besides, even as she busily worked her arm in and out of the fairy's tight asshole, feeling Minos' cock moving on the other side of the thing divide between it and her pussy, her own rear was left easily accessible to Lezard and Kain, who took bountiful advantage of it. It also left her with a nice view of Aelia, who was simultaneously busy being mounted by Umberto and Lupus. Anitra found the sight enlightening - she'd originally taken Aelia for a lesbian, but now she realized that all she'd ever been told was that she didn't like MEN... apparently, she had nothing against werewolves or Umber Hulks. Or maybe she was just so lost in the sensual search for pleasure that she wasn't really paying attention to her partners - a theory that the dazed look in her eyes supported somewhat.

The orgy stretched on well into the night - a swift spell from Blake had lit a roaring bonfire on the empty ground to light the festivities as darkness fell. The fact that there were more men than women involved helped - the girls were all seemingly tireless, so when some of the guys decided to take a little rest, the party could still carry on - and after an hour or two, the benched individuals would inevitably return, their desires stoked by the continuous sexual play taking place around them.

And just when the party seemed like it was winding down, it got reinvigorated by the arrival of Silver Fang, dragging the rope of the still tied-up Chikane behind him. The girl looked a thousand miles away, her eyes empty and her body caked with sperm both dried and fresh. Her pussy and ass were both crater-like holes in her groin, with specks of dried blood around the later. The sight of her freshly-fucked form (and perhaps the rather large pair of cum-stained tits crowning her chest) got several of the guys up and ready again, and soon her semi-catatonic form was being buffeted between Minos and Umberto.

Anitra had a quiet chat with Silver and found out that yes, the girl HAD managed to work her way through his entire army - mostly thanks to going at 'em 3 at a time towards the end, using the same position Anitra herself had once enjoyed with a pair of Hellhounds: One dog knotted in the pussy, turned ass-to-ass, while another straddled the couple and found his way into her asshole. Of course, in this case, the girl had been forced to pay attention to a never-ending stream of blowjobs at the same time she had two knots filling out her rear end. But yes, he admitted - several of his dogs probably WOULD like another ride.

A bit of gentle guidance later, and Silver was leading the dazed-looking Aelia back towards the woods and the many, many canine cocks that waited there. Anitra had been sorely tempted to take that position herself, but she felt an odd responsibility to stay in the center of the orgy and keep it running. To that end, she fetched Pfil and Himeko from the other side of the camp, finding them both somewhat exhausted and worn down from hours of mutual pussy-licking. They were both obviously distraught at the state they found Chikane in as they returned to the camp, making it easy for Anitra to suggest that they might ease the poor girl's pain by soothing the ragged, worn-raw edges of her pussy and ass.

Himeko, obviously feeling guilty about her friend's sacrifice, volunteered to take care of her badly-worn ass, leaving Pfil to clean her gaping pussy with her tongue. Watching the three girls writhe together in the middle of the camp as the two newcomers sucked the cum of hundreds of dogs out of the buxom, dark-haired priestess' holes unsurprisingly got the men all excited again, much to Anitra's delight. Just as she was trying to come up with a position that would allow her to satisfy all of them simultaneously, however, Blake returned to the camp, along with a very mellow-looking filly.

Melora's freshly dragon-fucked holes were too stretched-out for any of the guys (even Minos) to find much pleasure there... but with Blake having ordered her to please them all with her body, she was more than eager to do anything she possibly could to satisfy them, and a few suggestions from Anitra opened up new possibilities. Soon, she was squatting on the ground with Minos and Umberto stretching out her well-worn asshole together, their cocks going in and out with an alternating rhythm while she pleasured Kain orally. Her long muzzle and large mouth enabled her to not just deepthroat his entire shaft with ease, but also to suck his wrinkled, grey ballsack into her mouth as well.

This left Anitra with Lupus' knot filling her ass, Lezard's cock stimulating her urethra and filling her bladder with jizz... and Direza's wet, cum-stained pussy in front of her face. Her tireless tongue made the black-skinned priestess cum repeatedly, writhing in orgasm after orgasm. The climaxes became more rare - but also more intense - when Anitra switched her tongue to the other hole, cleaning Umberto's leftover sperm out from behind the elf's slightly loose sphincter. She made sure to first instruct the girl to pay attention and think of it as a learning experience, training for something she'd be called upon to do frequently herself... one had to keep up appearances in front of the servants, after all. But really, she just felt like spicing up all the tangy pussy-juice with a bit of that bitter taste of freshly-fucked ass...

But eventually, inevitably, the weakness of the flesh caught up with the carousers. One by one, the men, women and sundry creatures dropped off into an exhausted sleep. In the end, only three people remained active, moving against each other in the middle of the camp. Blake, riding Anitra's ass with renewed vigor after taking a couple of hours to rebuild his reserves of sexual energy... and below her, Kain, the tireless Elder Vampire, tormenting her urethra and bladder with his scale-armored cock.

After the stretching her peehole had gotten from Lezard earlier, she'd decided to give Kain a shot at it too, despite the bony ridges that covered his shaft. The only truly tight orifice she had left was now squeezing his rough shaft hard enough that she could clearly feel the outline of every last bony protrusion on it. Combined with the familiar sensation of Blake's enormous shaft stretching open her ass, she was soaring on sheer, masochistic pleasure. But, after filling out her bladder with a third load of his cold, slimy cum - and having thoroughly engraved the rough shape of his tool on the sensitive tissue of her urethra - Kain finally decided to call it quits, too.

One moment he was underneath her, the next he was dissolving into a cloud of shrieking bats, only to reform in front of her, his cock still hanging out of his trousers. Blake helpfully lifted his body a bit to let Kain reach her head, so that she could clean the slimy cum-residue and traces of her own piss out of the shaft's ridges with her tongue as he talked. "Well, DragonRider, I think I'll be moving on now... the night is still young, and it calls to me. Maybe I'll look you up when the fire you lit in my blood starts dying again... try not to get killed before then." Stuffing his now freshly-cleaned tool back into his pants, Kain vanished again, hundreds of bats spreading our into the night sky.

Blake and Anitra, now the last people left awake at the campsite, continued to move against one another for a while after that, their shared pleasure a simple, familiar thing. Blake, who had only barely recovered from the many loads he had deposited in his new, equine servant, lasted for quite a while at this point... and when he finally felt what had to be the last load he'd manage that day boiling out of his balls, he decided to try something new. With a sudden burst of movement, he backed up far enough to pull his shaft clear of Anitra's asshole, while still keeping it leveled in the same direction.

Anitra's sphincter had been worked hard that day, and Blake had been riding her ass for the past hour or so - so it was in no hurry to try and close again. The gaping hole left behind by the dragon-cock's girth thus became an easy target for the jets of cum that now rocketed through the air to coat her lower intestine (and her buttocks, and the rest of her groin... Blake's aim was good, but not THAT good.) She moaned at the unfamiliar feeling, the hot cum teasing the sensitive tissue as it tingled following the long hours of nearly non-stop sex. She also rather enjoyed being able to clearly hear the slimy sounds that resulted, as they radiated through the still night air.

Finally, Blake's cock began to soften and shrink, worn out from the day's festivities. It was slow to retreat into its sheath, however, giving Anitra time enough to turn around and clean it thoroughly on the way, as she always did. Then, at last, the two allowed themselves to fully relax, sinking to the ground with a sigh as Anitra took her customary position between Blake's forelegs, leaning on his broad chest. They sat there together for the rest of the night, neither sleeping - Blake, after all, only needed sleep once a week or so, and Anitra was hooped up on several Quickenings, giving her too much of an energy-surplus to fall asleep. So instead, they just enjoyed each other's company and closeness, both physical and mental - not talking, but sharing each other's thoughts over their telepathic link.

A good ways away, at the campsite that had previously belonged to the Dragon-Slayers, Jack Sparrow had finally managed to coax Menolly back to some semblance of her former self - thanks mainly to the camp's emergency supply of potent healing-potions. The potions were high-grade, and as such could heal mental damage as well as physical - useful for getting a man back in the fight following a traumatic injury, or the loss of several comrades in one of the many gory ways modern battle-magic could kill. Or for getting a badly traumatized rape-victim back to her old self again.

At least, she wasn't crying anymore, which Jack thought was a good sign. He didn't really have much experience caring for womenfolk - most of the gals he'd sailed with in the past had been more than capable of looking out for themselves - but he was pretty sure that the lack of crying, the disappearance of the haunted, terrified expression on her face, and the relaxation of her knotted, adrenaline-soaked muscles all pointed in a generally positive direction.

She was looking up at him now, from her camp bed, with large, innocent-looking eyes. "Jack... I'm sorry, Captain Jack - I'm so happy you came back for me. Even sacrificing your treasure and submitting to that dreadful spell for my sake. I don't know how I'll ever repay you..." He flashed her one of his trademarked winning smiles, trying not to think about the fact that she was quite naked under the covers. "Don't worry love - I'm sure you'll think of something. And besides, I didn't exactly sacrifice ALL my treasure..." he pointed out of the tent. "I've got about 5 more bags the same size as the one I handed over to that dragon. Should last a while. And I didn't promise anything about not keeping what I'd ALREADY stolen from dragon-hoards."

She flashed him a sleepy smile, reaching up one delicate hand to caress his stubbled cheek. "You can't fool me anymore, Captain Jack Sparrow. I used to think you were just a rogue, only caring about gold. I know better now. You're a good man, Jack Sparrow. Thank... you..." She finally slipped off into a restful sleep, her arm falling limply back to the bed. He shook his head and sighed. Even after all that, she was still so naïve. Hah. He'd NEVER cared about gold, except as a means to an end. FREEDOM was the ultimate goal. And that meant freedom from the ever-advancing specter of death, too. He'd finally realized what he'd been doing wrong with that immortality-potion recipe - it was all in the way the blood had been drawn. It had to be given willingly, not taken - that had to be the key! And with this girl on his side, he could get it... after all, it wasn't as if losing a bit of blood HURT a dragon, was it? That big black fellow thought he was so clever with his little spell-chains, but Jack Sparrow was a man with years of experience working his way around rules.

And besides, he was getting a nice little fringe-benefit out of this affair. Menolly wasn't the first innocent girl he'd seen raped - it kind of came with the territory when you were a pirate. It often amused him how few landlubbers realized that the name of the pirate's flag - the Jolly Roger - translated directly into 'the happy fucker' when you knew the local lingo. Either way, he knew what kind of impact the event would have on the sweet-voiced young girl's mind, despite the healing-potions. Having learned the hard way that men only wanted her body, she'd soon find herself seeking out sex of her own accord, giving herself over to the rough hands of any lover who'd have her, subconsciously believing that it was the only way she could buy the closeness and companionship she desired, the only way she could have any value in the eyes of others. And it just so happened that she had owed a great debt to a certain Captain Jack Sparrow. Heh. He'd let her recover from her ordeal... then he'd find out if that sweet, sweet voice of hers sounded just as pure and clean crying out in pleasure.

As the sun began to peek over the mountains, shedding the dim light of dawn on the cum-stained campsite, Anitra finally rose from where she'd been sitting, and went to where Blake had discarded his saddlebags the previous day. The Tablet of Lutan was still where she'd left it, and as she drew it out, its surface began to shift. Quickly grabbing the bundle of rolled-up maps next to it, she returned to her seat and watched it write out its message as Blake craned his neck to read over her shoulder

The Three Trials have been completed. By your continued survival, you have proven that a light still shines in your heart. Had you been corrupted by greed or blinded by anger, this spell would have been your doom. I do not know who or what you are, or why you seek the Dragon Utopia - certainly, you are no innocent, or this spell would not have been triggered in the first place. But you are capable of love, and of friendship, and it is my belief that nobody who retains those values can be truly evil.

Thus, I now entrust you with the way to one of the most wondrous places in this great and mysterious world - and pray that you will use it wisely.

_ Lutan _

As the text faded, a map appeared, along with - for once - decent directions. It didn't take her more than a minute to locate their new destination on the map; a spot in the middle of a nameless mountain-range in the northeastern part of the continent. A quick check of the map notes showed that, ironically, the area had gone largely unexplored (and unexploited) due to being extremely poor in metals and other resources, while also having too harsh weather to make for much in the way of hunting or foresting. Whatever magic hid the Dragon Utopia and its bottomless gem-mines had clearly pulled the wool over the eyes of whatever prospectors had passed THAT judgment...

Anitra quickly stashed the tablet - and the maps - back into the saddlebags as the rest of the odd group began to stir around them. Several of them seemed to feel rather awkward about the situation they woke up in, but Anitra's bountiful energy and sunny disposition seemed to take the edge off as she wished them all a good morning, and started pulling supplies for breakfast out of Blake's saddlebags. Even the two remaining captives - the priestesses, Chikane and Himeko - were offered a solid meal as a send-off, and while they seemed inclined to get away from the scary group of monsters who had defeated and abused them the day before, their rumbling bellies convinced them to accept the offer. They ate quickly, however, and then left, wearing what little was left of their priestly garments, heading back in the same direction Jack Sparrow had left in - suggesting that they would probably take him up on the offer he'd left behind, and which Anitra had cheerfully passed on to them during breakfast.

After they were gone, however, Blake offered up a dish of his own as he dropped the bag of gold and gems that Jack had bribed him with in front of the others. "That pirate obviously didn't know that black dragons lack the impulse to collect gems, gold and other valuables that dragons in general are so infamous for." Blake chuckled as he nudged the bag, causing the bounty of wealth within to spill out. "And besides, considering where we're heading next, bringing a bag of gems along is kinda' like bringing a bag of sand to the desert. So - you guys want any of these?"

Lupus, Minos and Umberto politely declined. "We don't use that stuff in the Valley of Wonders... and besides, in my experience, it just attracts adventurers." Lezard Valeth was less restrained, and scooped up a couple of generous handfuls. "Well, I DO have a rather profitable business supporting my research already, but some extra funds are always helpful... your contribution to the development of new alchemical wonders is appreciated." Pfil and Pamila also filled a pair of smaller bags with gold - funds for their continued travels as they explored the 'big people' world, even though it would be just as worthless back at their home as it would be in the Valley of Wonder.

Looking at the remainder of the treasure, Anitra suddenly realized that there were a couple of people missing from the breakfast table - Silver Fang and Aelia, who had presumably both fallen asleep in the little grove of tough mountain-trees where the mercenary dog had camped his troops. Grabbing the half-empty sack, she wandered over there to inform them that breakfast was cooking - and that any economic woes they might have had were about to be a thing of the past.

Arriving there, however, she realized to her surprise that she'd made some mistaken assumptions the previous night. She'd figured that the orgy had ended when Blake finally blew his last load, but by the looks of things, that wasn't actually the case. Amidst the loosely-spaced trees, Aelia was sleeping with her head on the ground and her ass in the air, snoring slightly as a large, tiger-striped dog that Anitra vaguely remembered from her previous encounter with Silver's forces enthusiastically fucked her.

Silver Fang himself emerged from amidst the countless furry mounds that were his sleeping army to greet her, and easily answered her query. "Well, yeah, we sleep in shifts. We're soldiers - having everyone asleep at the same time makes for poor security and short lifespans. And since the nightshift slept through most of the earlier festivities, I didn't think it was fair to rob them of the opportunity to have some fun. SHE certainly didn't seem to mind. She'd already passed out before I went to sleep, and I saw her cum several times without waking up. Guess she's having some nice dreams."

Deciding against waking up the obviously exhausted adventuress, Anitra asked Silver to pass on a few messages to her when she woke on her own, including the location of the leftover breakfast and the availability of shiny treasure. Silver himself was surprisingly interested in the gold. "What, you think working for magical creatures to extend the lifespan of my men is the standard? Hardly. It WAS a nice bit of work, certainly - there's nothing more valuable than time, after all. But mostly, we work for money. With money, I can buy enough food to feed every dog under my command, without having to rely on finding prey in the wild. And we can usually afford to shack up somewhere warm during the winter."

With a sharp bark, he summoned several dogs - females, from the looks of it - who turned out to be carrying large saddlebags slung across their backs. These were quickly filled with gems and gold, leaving a generous pile behind for Aelia. "Actually, I'm thinking of offering her an officer's spot in my mercenary forces..." Silver commented with a canine grin. "Hiring a human would be a controversial step, to be sure, but she DOES seem to fit in nicely... and one of the great things about commanding a pack of dogs instead of an army of humans is that they generally don't question the Alpha's decisions."

Anitra grinned, imagining what life would be like for Aelia if she took Silver up on that offer - she'd need to modify her armor with a quick-release codpiece to deal with all the canine cock she'd be getting. Telling Silver that she might track him down later to see how that worked out, she wished him farewell and left. Behind her, the 'day-shift' dogs began to wake up and wander towards the still-sleeping Aelia...

After that, there was little left to do but to say goodbye to the rest of her friends - promising with varying degrees of sincerity to get in touch again at some point - and finding a way to fit 3 people on Blake's saddle. In the end, Melora wound up having to sit behind it, Blake's ridge-scales digging into her naked crotch, while Direza rode in front of Anitra, practically ecstatic at the promise of traveling wrapped in the strong arms of her beloved DragonRider.

Then, finally, they were in the air, leaving the mountains behind as the people left behind on the ground shrunk to the size of ants. So... next stop, the Dragon Utopia? Blake queried, taking advantage of their telepathic link to talk around their two passengers. Neither one of them had any idea where they were going. It was actually rather endearing, now that she thought about it - they were flying off into the wild blue yonder, with no idea what would happen... just to be with the people they loved. Even though they knew that they'd always be a distant second priority to that person.

Heh. Well, if they were expecting to be dragged along on endless adventures, sleeping in ditches and shabby roadside inns, they'd be disappointed. The adventure was nearly over. The final goal shone before them like the rising sun. Yes. We've hunted for that place for so long. Now it's finally time to find out what it really is - if it can live up to the legends. Over the link, she felt Blake's love for her, and realized that she wasn't nervous about that at all. Even if their goal proved to be less impressive than advertised, she had already found her own Utopia - as long as she was with Blake, wherever they went and whatever trials they faced, she would be happy.

THE END

...but the last chapter has yet to be written. Tune in soon for Chapter 20 of the DragonRider Chronicles: Utopia. It has been a long journey, but now, at last, it will end.