Blood Sacrament

Vengeance Unleashed: Part 1

In the far-distant land of Gyildale, a young maiden by the name of Rain was birthed to a poor farm hand and his gorgeous betrothed. Gyildale was a kingdom suffering a war with a neighboring tribe and quickly approaching the verge of defeat. Rain grew into a fine young woman, and by the age of eighteen, was reflecting her mother in appearance and charm.

---

"Look! People are coming!" shouted Mave, the mother of Rain. From on top of the far ridge appeared horsemen with pikes and shields, swiftly spotting the small farm and beginning a charge toward it.

"Arm yourselves!" cried Deacon, son of the farm's owner and a stout young man, plenty capable with a sword. He dashed into the barn and withdrew brandishing a bastard sword, which he tossed to the retreating Rain, and a cleaver mounted upon a four-inch-thick staff which he kept for himself. Mave ran to the house and woke Graven, her husband, and to arm herself to protect her newborn.

The horsemen fast approached, at least twenty of them, and appeared ready to shed blood in the name of the king. Naturally, their king was a heathen warlord, son of dogs, and commanded only a roving band of hounds, constantly moving from land to land, raping, pillaging, and slaughtering.

"I'll take the first ones, and when they dismount, begin your attack!" declared Deacon as Graven charged from the house bearing a mace and rapier.

"God damn these fucking apes! I'll kill every last one of them, rape their women, and kill their children!" He sprinted towards the horsemen, spinning the mace about his head only to be felled by a lance. His head, which bore the brunt of the metal-tipped pole, was ripped from his neck producing a dazzling shower of blood, and then rolled down the hill and coming to a rest at the feet of Rain.

By the time comprehension was hers, Deacon plowed into the midst of the bloodthirsty horsemen, already having halved three of them and decapitated a forth. Rain sprung into motion as five of them encircled her on foot, their horses having been killed by Deacon.

She blocked two jabs and dodged a third, lunging toward its bearer and slicing him crossways, allowing his body to slide two distinct directions and emit a fountain of gore. She spun and lopped the head off another and kicking a third in the scrotum. She again whirled and cleaved through the shoulders of numbers four and five, stopping to stand and admire her work.

"Rain, help!" screamed Mave from the doorway as two men charged away from Deacon in search of easier killings.

Rain's deftly-thrown sword lodged betwixt the first's ears, showering his compatriot with cranial ooze. He moved to surrender but the charging motion of a broken lance caught his abdomen and he died instantly.

"Thank you, my child."

"Now is not the time, mother."

Rain turned as another band of horsemen crested the ridge, eyed the mayhem caused by Deacon and herself, and began their descent.

"Deacon!"

He had just finished the last of the initial group via snapping of the spine when Rain met him, pointing towards the newcomers.

He grunted. "Obviously they cannot tell when they are outnumbered and outskilled. They shall be dining in hell tonight along with their bitch wives and cunt mothers."

Rain and Deacon separated at the last possible moment, forcing the horsemen to suddenly stop to search for their prey, allowing the two mere farmers to annihilate ten amongst a cloud of blood and giblets. At which point the remaining half were aware of impending death, death struck and all were finished with utmost prejudice.

The hillside before the farm was a lake of blood, chunks of brain, arms, legs, and discarded weaponry.

"What a day," commented Deacon as he and Rain approached the spring, a mere stone's chuck from the front door. Rain stripped her clothing, letting herself slowly into the warm spring water. Deacon followed suit and the two let the caked gore free itself from their arms and flow to the edges of the spring, eventually forming itself with mud and rocks.

"You are quite exquisite, might I comment," said Deacon, peering through the crystal water and admiring Rain's naked body.

"As you do daily," said Rain, moving closer and embracing him.

He began to caress her voluptuous breasts, kneading her nipples betwixt his thumb and forefinger, coursing pleasure through her body and wetting herself for him.

"Now," she commanded.

He moved not-so-gently into her, allowing her moist and firm pussy to grasp him. Whilst the water washed away some of her lubrication, she remained wet enough for him to thrust deep inside and withdraw with speed. Her luscious tits bounced with his movements and increased as his rate quickened. At last, he released inside her, allowing his juice to flow freely from her center and into the spring water. He withdrew gently, and floated away from her, still convulsing with orgasm.

Her eyes opened after some time, clearly her lust not fulfilled.

---

"That wasn't the first or second band of horsemen that has come our way, you know," said Deacon as the four of them surrounded the dinner table.

"My husband was just killed, you think I don't know that?" sobbed Mave, who in her age -which was merely thirty-five- was still marvelous in her physical appearance.

"I realize that we have all suffered, he was my father too, mother. But we must be realistic," stated Rain as she cut a slice from the loaf of white bread and ate. "There is something in these parts they are looking and for, and by the increasing number of men their kind is willing to expend on finding it, I would dare to presume it is of great value."

Deacon spooned a chunk of freshly-slaughtered-and-cooked chicken into his mouth, winking at Rain. "Agreed. I suggest we head into town and inquire as to what a king would desire from a poor farming village such as ours."

"I shall accompany you," stated Rain, wanting a break from the tiresome and boring life of the farm and to become intoxicated.

"Be careful, you two," said Mave, giving Lexidous a small piece of apple, "I couldn't bear another death in the family, especially not on the same day."

"We will be careful, ma'am," stated Deacon firmly. "It is not as if Rain needs to be protected, but I'll keep my eye on her."

The pair left the small cabin, Deacon armed with a bastard sword and hand crossbow while Rain sported her normal hand blades.

"I hope we don't come upon any more horsemen."

"Yes," agreed Deacon. "You'd think with the amount we've killed in the past weeks that there wouldn't be any more. We have cut down at least three hundred betwixt the pair of us."

"Well, try to make sure I don't get too drunk."

Deacon smiled. "I wouldn't want someone to take advantage of you." At that, Rain jumped him, pressing his head into the moss. She ripped her armored corset from her chest, her skintight leather pants from her legs, and mounted him with her amazingly fine naked body.

"Well this is a surprise."

She pulled his pants down and threw his tunic to the side, taking him and putting him inside her already-wet cunt. Her breasts jiggled as she rode him, climaxing in a glorious orgasm almost instantly. She tightened around him, allowing the spikes of pleasure to rock her body, but he wasn't ready to join her in ecstasy. She continued to lunge herself down on him and jerk back up, her moisture running down his legs and onto the dewy moss. At last, she peaked again, crying into the lonesome darkness with unbearable joy. In one fluid movement, he forced himself deep into her pink folds and exploded, sending a gush of warm liquid into her. After several minutes, she withdrew him and reclothed herself.

---

The sign swayed in the wind, signaling the impending storm which lashed out lightning on the horizon. "Ye Olde Tavern," it read, with the blood of the king's horsemen emblazoned in splashes around the edge.

"If we can't get information here, we might as well return home before the storm," said Deacon, pushing open the door for Rain.

Light was nearly nil in the tight space, and the distinct smell of at least thirty kinds of alcohol wafted into Rain's nostrils. Amidst the din at the bar, she spotted what appeared to be a soldier or an ex-soldier, armed to the teeth with all manner of mace, sword, and dagger.

"Any brew, but make it hard, on the rocks, and potent enough for suicide," she stated, situating herself next to the already-drunk man. The bartender filled her order promptly enough and she chugged the first half with the pride of a drunkard, the heavy booze sliding gracefully down her throat and settling with ease in her stomach. The soldier viewed her cautiously, naturally his eyes resting her bosom, which was struggling to escape her tightly-bound armored corset. Pretending not to notice, she chugged the remainder of the beer, pausing while she held the mug up and allowing just a little more of her breasts to ease out.

Now was the time; while he was drunk, not drunk enough not to speak, and obviously aroused enough to be constantly intrigued by her body. "You from around here?"

He started, his eyes quickly darting from her boobs to her face then back again before replying. "Yeah, I'm a local. From the true king's fifteenth battalion. We were the border guard, y'know. It was us they hit first. Well, not so much hit but raped. We were slaughtered in every sense of the word. Only me'n my chum were the ones left, and he don't have an arm. Anyways, what was it you wanted? Oh yes, was I from around here. Well I grew up on a farm abouts six miles to the east of here. Or was it south? Well anyway, I was a ripe young lad when the true king called any able man to defend our borders and drive back the unworthy fucks into their own place. Well I responded, me'n my best chum, and we kicked some arse." Throughout his whole drunken soliloquy, his eyes flitted betwixt her popping breasts and her face, unknowing which to focus on; his dick wanting her tits, but his drunken mind knowing he should concentrate on her face. This resulted a confused battle in which his dick was the victor and he resolved to speak while his eyes and mind were buried in her cleavage.

"So do you know of anything of value in this area? Something the new, unworthy king would send hundreds of horsemen searching?" She chugged another mug of the hard brandy-esque substance while awaiting his response.

Before long, his eyes become straight and he replied. "Well, when I was in the army, a few years back, there was rumor that the unworthy king had a daughter with one of the true king's concubines, who was quickly put to death following the birthing of this girl. Evidently, even in her youth, her beauty was of such epic fame that men would kill for even a glimpse. As the rumor goes," he continued, likewise downing another mug, "the true king had the girl hidden in the hills around these parts with a farming clan so that all evidence of his lack of control over his fuck puppets would remain under wraps without having to put to the sword a young maiden of legendary beauty. Might I add, that you are quite exquisite in your appearance, ma'am."

Before Rain could respond with perhaps a jiggling of her breasts, a clamorous noise and yells of combat arose from the other end of the tavern. It was Deacon, fending off a giant nearly triple his size, armed with a ten-foot spike-laden club. Before a second strike took place, Rain was behind the behemoth and slashing pieces of flesh from his soon-to-be corpse, splashing patrons with blood and guts, allowing a first-hand glimpse a giant's anatomy to onlookers. When she had hacked away half his body, which only spanned a time of two seconds, she brought her left arm with its hand blade to his neck, slicing his head cleanly off and landing it upright atop the bar.

"What the fuck!" shouted the bartender in horror. In all of twelve seconds, a fight erupted, a giant was halved, and the aforementioned giant's head was laid to rest on his bar. Blood and fur were everywhere, successfully transforming the tavern into a slaughterhouse.

Before the questioning, and perhaps arresting, could commence, Rain and Deacon were through the door and well on their way back to the farm.

"Did you learn anything?" he asked, wheezing from the sprint.

"Indeed," she replied, likewise short of breath. "From what I gather, the king is looking for me. Evidently, he fucked one of the true king's concubines, and I was the product. Now he wants me back, more than likely for some sort of blackmail or bargaining chip. Perhaps even to sell."

He stopped. "This is shit. You're saying Mave isn't your real mother?"

"It appears so."

His eyebrows furrowed in an intense frown. "We can't return to the farm. By now, another group of horsemen is well on their way to locating you. We must go into hiding."

"Fuck that," announced Rain. "If he wants me, he'll get me. But when we meet, he'll be staring at my legs because his head will be on the floor."

---

Deacon and Rain were four days from the farm, trekking through the swampy forest toward the castle of Gyildale, the new residence of King Feraj, Rain's father. Before long, the castle and its outlying capital city were in sight.

"Do you suppose we should enter through the city?" questioned Deacon.

"I am assuming these people are not amazing in their beauty, so I should be relatively noticeable. Contrarily, I don't give a fuck, so I am not wasting another day attempting to flank the castle. I'm hungry, thirsty, tired, and quite horny. Also, I want to kill something. So if you would prefer to go around, be my guest."

Deacon drew back. "I concur, but to what do I owe this wrath?"

Rain looked abash. "I do not know the answer to that query."

She wiped the puzzled look from her face and repeated the movement she performed on the way to the tavern so many days ago. Before she pulled him into her, he stood, placing her back against a moss-covered tree and drawing her legs around his back. Her breasts were squashed against his chest as he spread her lips and drove deep within her soaking core, forcing Rain to cry with intense pleasure. As his rhythm began, he took his left arm from its leg-supporting role and moved it under her glorious butt and began to rub her clitoris, sending even more violent spikes of electric joy through her veins. She screamed with these bursts as his thrusting became faster and deeper. But she beat him to the orgasm, her cunt clasping him as her climax detonated through her entire body. He likewise unleashed a torrent of cum into her tight pussy, spilling over and falling to the forest floor. They fell to the ground, a heap of naked body parts, exhausted from the trek but energetic with a renewed purpose.

"We cannot stop to rest," announced Rain after some time. She again clothed herself and unsheathed her hand blades. "This time, peace is not the answer. No alcohol, just extreme violence."

"Agreed," said Deacon, unsheathing his bastard sword and loading his hand crossbow.

---

They marched through the open town gates into a bustling, albeit peaceful, castle town. Rain proceeded directly to the guardsmen on duty and savagely decapitated them, sending blood and heads to the ground in a satisfying mush. Deacon fired his bow and reloaded with swiftness, cutting down three more guards which were summoned by the screams of agony and the onlooker's mortified outbursts of terror.

Four horsemen, apparently on patrol outside the wall, entered the city to the sight of bloody carnage, only to be dispatched violently by hand blade slashes to four necks.

"We must move to the castle before reinforcements are called in from the army camp!" shouted Rain to Deacon, who was hacking through the crowd as they scampered away. Gore was rampantly launched through the air as nearly forty civilians were murdered.

"Lead on!" he replied, cutting through another group of terrified sightseers. The castle guardsmen had no time to close the wrought-iron gates before they died amidst the mangled body parts of their constituents. Death was free and Rain gladly supplied it.

"There's the keep, Feraj is surely there!" she pointed. A dozen Imperial swordsmen, those of the ravenous scum which took their military positions seriously, charged from the keep staircase as Rain and Deacon entered on the wake of slaughter. The first two were butchered by applicable dices from Rain's hand blades, their warm brains plastering onto the previously-pristine armor of the remaining ten. Deacon felled two with his bow, the bolt dashing through the first and striking the second in the eye, producing a stunning rainbow comprised only of the chunky color red.

Six retreated slightly to the second level and encircled Rain as she crested the staircase, while the other two were killed by Deacon and his lightning-fast bastard sword.

"You realize, all of you, that I am the harbinger of death and by the end of fifteen seconds you will all be in pieces at my feet with your blood spilling down these very stairs in a river of crimson. Do well to kneel at my feet and receive quick retribution."

"You bitch, we will cut your legs from your hips, string you up, and fuck you six ways from Feraj's dog's genitilia. Bow at our feet and fuck us, or be raped violently for three consecutive weeks," replied the captain, his men laughing loudly. Rain needed no further instructions.

The captain's arms were sent east and west repectively, his head north then quickly south, and his torso piled at the ground, sauteed into neat chunks. The men to his left and right were eradicated via hip-cuts, their bodies separating into semi-even halves. The two behind them and the lieutenant, who at the time of the captain's demise was huddling under his bloodied armor, were massacred with a decapitation, a dismembering, and an old-fashioned impalement respectively.

"Nice work, Rain," grunted Deacon as the door atop the final group of steps opened.

"My daughter, I have long desired a meeting," said the figure, stepping from the gloom and into the light. It was a tall, muscular man, in his forties, who was clothed in tribal furs and bearing a hammer of monumental scale. "It is with a heavy heart that I am forced to put an end to your wanton mayhem. If you yield now, your friend will be sacrificed as repayment and you will become a slave, destined to meet the needs of my men. Do not lay down your arms, and my hammer will come to intimately know the both of you and your insides. Please choose with brevity because there is a time limit on my offer."

"'Father', I suppose I should call you, or perhaps 'fucker' or 'bastard.' I will never be the pleasure toy of soldiers, and especially not yours. I will cut you into thirds and feed you to the ravens. Enjoy seeing your daughter, for I will be your last vision.

Feraj leapt from his balcony onto hers, a twenty-foot distance, and swung his hammer before she even had time to recoil. He had stricken her with the blunt end, tossing her to the distant wall and crumbling the feeble brick behind her back. Deacon sliced quickly, splashing a cup of Feraj's leg blood onto the limestone flooring before he was launched over the edge to the ground level.

"You shit!" cried Rain as she lunged, ducking the swing of his hammer, and striking with her left hand blade to his abdomen, carving out a rib and snapping the bone. The bloody rib fell to the ground but Feraj didn't blink, instead reversing the direction of his hammer and pounding it to the ground where Rain's ankle was a second before. She cut back, swinging her right blade at his fact, chopping off his right ear and half his scalp.

"You do not know your origins nor mind, foolish girl," he bellowed, dropping his hammer and raising his arms toward the sky. "Fji, merdok, ursuday, pirlay, mercudoc!" With his chants came a fire about his arms, heating the air around him to such a temperature that Rain was forced to back away. Deacon came charging up the staircase, slightly bloodied, only to be slammed with a wave of the intense heat.

"Who the fuck is this?" he screamed, drawing back down and waiting for the heat to diminish. But Feraj had other plans; he turned as if to hurl a ball of fire at Deacon, but when Rain charged, he spun impossibly fast and unleashed it at her. But it merely splashed against her face, not so much as singing her hair. His startled expression was soon nonexistent as his face was separated from his head, spattered in a clean slice on the ground. His eyes, remaining in his skull, dropped from their sockets as he screamed in virgin terror. That too, was quelled in a flurry of lopping, blood, entrails, and giblets flying in every imaginative direction. When only his feet and a pile of small pieces remained, she stopped, allowing Deacon to catch her as she fell.

"That was my father," she mumbled as Deacon led her to the railing and a clean patch, setting her down.

"More importantly, he wielded magic. That means you too possess this ancestral secret. You are far more powerful than you realize, Rain."

"Yes, I know."

---

"One day, I will track down someone with knowledge of magic and perhaps learn to utilize it in battle," said Rain, walking near the springs with Deacon, hands clasped.

"Yes, but for now let us grow together and strengthen ourselves with our hands. The true king has not yet reassumed his throne, and others will attempt to beat him."

"That is not our problem right now, however," she said meekly.

He turned toward her quizzically. "What is our problem at hand?"

"Sex," she replied. "Endless fucking." She jumped him, simultaneously unclothing herself.

As he mirrored her actions, she laid back and spread her legs, allowing him to view her body in its entirety. Her breasts were shaped with perfection, the nipples pointed straight up and perk. Her pussy lips were spread and pink, her wetness seeping from the edges as he inserted a finger within her, inciting an outcry. He cupped her left boob with his head, his palm working her nipple into sending jolts and forcing her body to writhe in anticipation. His fingers bathed in her wetness but he replaced them and thrust slowly and deeply. His tongue played with her right nipple while his lips toyed her titflesh. His free hand, still wet, he used to play her clitoris. Deacon continued his slow thrusting, forcing her to orgasm slowly. But they were powerful and prolonged, her breasts jiggling with perfection as she was controlled by the waves of sheer pleasure. At last, following her fourth orgasm as her sopping cunt clasped him with angry joy, he could not withstand any longer. He launched a deluge of semen into her pussy, his eruption stimulating her into a consecutive orgasm, his cream bursting from the edges.

"Rain," he stated, freeing himself from her and lying beside her on the warm moss.

"Yes?" she replied, sighing from the residing waves of delight.

"We still have much to accomplish..."

To Be Continued...

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