Tender Mercies: Book 1 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The two combatants faced each other with legs crouched and arms spread wide. In the ceremonial firelight, the oil on their naked skin glinted. Slowly the wrestlers circled one another, waiting for a chance to grapple with the other.

"Get him Nordan!" A man cried out in support of the smaller wrestler. Smaller at six and a half feet tall and easily two-hundred-sixty pounds. The larger wrestler was was just shy of seven feet tall and weighed closer to three-hundred pounds.

Catcalls and jeering nearly drowned out the cry of support as the barbarian tribe rooted on their champion, Thorgrim. His friends (most of the tribe) called him Crusher.

Feigning a trip, Crusher lured Nordan to rush him. Nordan realized his mistake and tried to stop when the larger man's fist sailed out and connected with his chin. Nordan stumbled back quickly as Crusher sought to press his advantage with another swing. He was stepped at the edge of the circle as a group of barbarians caught him and pushed him back into the ring.

Nordan lowered his head and went with the momentum, charging forward and roaring loudly. Crusher met the charge head on, barely moving as Nordan crashed into his midsection shoulder first. He grinned to his tribe and grabbed the challenger's arm so that he could twist it up behind Nordan's back. Nordan grimaced in pain as his shoulder threatened to dislocate.

"That looks painful," a dark skinned elf muttered to no one in particular.

Nordan's supporter nodded his head and replied, "Aye, it does!"

Looking about him, the dark elf found he was as tall as the average barbarian at just over 6 feet tall. His companion beside him was perhaps the shortest one there, save for the children, at only five-foot-seven inches. "Why are we doing this again, Pompey?" he asked.

Pompey opened his mouth to answer but grimaced in sympathetic pain instead. Nordan's position had worsened. Crusher had maneuvered so that he know had his arms locked about behind Nordan's back and lifted him off the ground. It was his namesake position, and he was using it well to crush the life out of Nordan.

"Shouldn't we do something, Kelnozz?" Pompey asked, clutching the spear he held in his fist.

Kelnozz looked around at the cheering tribal warriors. "Only if you want to get us killed too."

Nordan's veins were popping out in his head as he struggled to fight back the growing pain in his back. His head rocked forward and a stunned Crusher dropped him and stumbled backwards, blood exploding from his shattered nose. Nordan crashed to the ground and fell to his knees, fighting to keep from passing out.

He regained his feet and walked stiffly towards Thorgrim. The larger barbarian shook his head, spraying blood everywhere, and grinned at Nordan. Nordan met the grin with his fist, bashing out several teeth. He then locked arms with the larger man and began a test of strength as they circled one another and tried to drive the other to the ground.

Loud cheering erupted amongst the barbarians. It was a rarity that anyone ever challenged Thorgrim. He was the undisputed champion of the tribe. Their hooting and hollaring was giving Kelnozz a headache, and making Pompey's head swim.

The cheering fell quiet as Crusher fell to his knees, overwhelmed by the slighty shorter man. Nordan let go of his arms and Crusher fell to all fours. Wasting no time, Nordan grabbed the behemoth by the inner thigh with one hand and the shoulder with the other. Grunting, he lifted him in one smooth motion over his head.

The barbarian tribe was stunned. As one, their mouths stood open in shock. Crusher lay stunned himself, but was amazed at the strength in Nordan in spite of himself. With a heave, Crusher went sailing into not the first or second, but the third row of barbarian spectators, taking several of them down.

The crowd remained silent, uncertain of what to do since their champion had been beaten. After a few moments of peaceful respite, Crusher forced a path through the crowd and walked back out to stand in front of Nordan. With blood running down his face he grinned a broken toothed smiled and raised Nordan's hand in the air, proclaiming him the champion.

The crowd slowly took up a cheer, but by the time it was done, its volume had surpassed anything that Pompey or Kelnozz had heard before. Indeed, the sarcastic elf considered himself most likely stricken deaf by it and the ringing in his ears afterwards.

---

An hour later, with Nordan cleaned up and once again wearing his furs, the three companions sat at a table feasting. When the feast was finished, Helmut, the chief of the tribe stood up and raised his goblet for silence.

"Our kinsmen comes to us to ask for our help, he has been judged worthy by a test of strength, will you hear him?" he called out in a powerful voice.

The response was overwhelming. Men beat goblets, daggers, durmsticks, and whatever else they had at hand on the table in approval. Helmut nodded to Nordan and sat back down. Nordan smiled sheepishly but stood up in spite of it. Once the cheering died down he began.

"My friends and I have travelled further then most of you have. We have been to the cities across the great Lands End Mountains to the east and seen many things. We have fought many creatures, and we have lived. We have fought, and slain, dragons! Now I have bested your champion, will you hear me?"

Again the barbarians cheered unanimously in approval. Kelnozz looked heavenward while Pompey found himself getting caught up in the revelry.

"We came of late from Yolarch, a city that plagues our ways of roaming and living off the land as the Gods intended us too. While there, we were betrayed and barely escaped with our lives from the foul wench that rules that den of filth. I made a vow to her that I would not rest until her city was sacked to the ground and she felt the tender mercies of a pillaging barbarian hoard! Will you aid me in this call to plunder?"

The tribe seemed to hesitate, thinking about what Nordan asked. Knowing that to wait was to lose his chance, Nordan jumped on the table and kicked a full goblet of ale into a group of men sitting at another table.

"Her soldiers harry our ancestral lands, driving us from it. We must fight back! Fight with me and we will destroy the bitch-queen of Yolarch! I have seen her palace, and with your help, we can have much plunder. I promise you wine, women, song, and wealth unmatched if you aid me."

In ones and twos, then more and more until another fevered roaring could be heard, the tribe agreed to aid their long gone brother returned home. After what seemed an eternity of it, they had settled down enough so that Kelnozz could think again. Helmut came over and sat with them at their table.

"Tell me the story of how this happened," he said, bringing a haunch of steaming venison with him.

The companions looked to each other and then began there tale. "We had returned to Trillindad from the east by ship. Easier that way then crossing those Lands End Mountains! We'd spent some time there visiting with Pompey's family before he got thrown out again," Nordan began.

Kelnozz picked it up, "There was this nice tavern down by the docks...

...The three adventurers, having squandered all their money on ale, wenching, and other wasteful ventures, had signed up with a merchant named Therius Magnus for caravan gaurds. The caravan only consisted of one wagon though which meant little pay. The route was from Trillindad to Yolarch, passing along the rode through Lizardshome Swamp.

For two weeks of sheer boredom the companions guarded the wagon and talkative merchant from the dust on the road and the occasional weary traveler. Then the dusty plains outside of Trillindad turned lusher and greener. Soon they past through occasional farmlands, though the farms were rare as even this close to a major city-state such as Trillindad, bandits and roving groups of monsters were not uncommon.

The green pastures and farmlands gave way to longer, thicker grasses and trees. Another day put them in the outskirts of the Lizardshome Swamp. Few travelers past this way, save in great numbers, for the lizardmen that made their home in the swamp were fierce and often unforgiving of any trespassing on their territory.

Sure enough, they had been attacked. Lizardmen swung from the trees on thick vines, landing atop the covered wagon to give battle. At the same time they rose up from concealment in the waters of the swamp beside the road. The guards and merchant found themselves quickly outnumbered nearly four to one.

What the lizards did not understand was the prowess and might of those very same guards. Nordan, with his great strength and skill with his hammer easily dispatched the first lizardman to come at him, causing the others to advance slower and more cautiously. Pompey had set his spear and impaled a lizardman that swung down from a vine to attack. Freeing his spear, he turned to face the others emerging from the waters. Driving the wagon, Therius fought to keep his horses from panicking while the chaos of battle raged around him. Unseen by him, Kelnozz leapt from the ground to the top of the wagon, barely touching the side of it to aid his ascent, and used his twin longswords to dispatch the green humanoid about the skewer the merchant. Then he turned to deal with the other scaled attackers atop the wagon.

In a matter of moments the lizardmen lay dead and the guards had little to show for their efforts save heavy breathing and a grin stretching from ear to ear on Kelnozz's face. Nordan searched the corpses, finding little of value. Even there weapons were rusty, poorly tempered, and in some cases little more then tree limbs used ass clubs.

They continued on, anxious to be away from the ambush site. Therius had then confided in them that they might expect a few more assaults, and not necessarily by lizardmen. The cargo they carried was none other then the magically sleeping son of the Priestess-Queen of Yolarch, Lesbiche Wollust. He had been kidnapped and magically suspended some time ago, but due to his being a loyal servant of Lesbiche, Therius had tracked him down and stolen him back from his captors. Unfortunately, only Lesbiche could perform the magical ceremony necessary to bring the child out of his sleep.

Grumbling at their luck, the companions had little choice but to continue on. Word apparently spread amongst the small communities of lizardmen, for though they felt watched on many occasions, three days later they left the swamp behind them. A stream paralleled the road they were on, but other then that no reminder of the swamp was left.

Another two days saw them entering the southwestern gate of Yolarch, and upon seeing Therius, the guards took them straightaway to see the Priestess-Queen of the theocratic city, though no fanfare or celebration was announced. Once in front of Lesbiche, the companions were surprised to find that court had been dismissed prior to their arrival, and further, that they met with her in her private chambers.

She thanked them repeatedly, seemingly the greatful mother throughout. Rewarding them with much gold, they felt quite proud of themselves and their sudden turn of luck. Pompey, however, felt something was amiss throughout the performance. As soon as they were dismissed from her presence to special rooms in the palace she herself had arranged for, he let his feelings be known to his companions.

Nordan blew off such ill thoughts, explaining that they were due the reward. Kelnozz was not so quick to invalidate Pompey's hunch, however. Either that or he merely sought an excuse to get himself in trouble again. Regardless, he was out later that night, prowling stealthily about the palace. He returned to Lesbiches private chambers and, distracting the gaurds by setting a harmless trap for a servant (tripping him up and making him spill his platter of dirty dinner plates), he slipped inside her suite of rooms. Immediately he felt the unexpected emptiness of the rooms. She was not there. Searching about, he discovered a secret door in a wall near her large bed that she had poorly tried to conceal.

Slipping through the darkened passage, Kelnozz brielfy wondered how humans and other races without the ability to see as well in the dark as he could managed to get by. Convinced even more of the superiority of the dark elven race, he stopped and realized he had no idea which way to go. Randomly choosing, he turned right at the interesection. A few more turns, seemingly random, and he opened another secret door. This one turned out to be the Queen's audience room. Shrugging, Kelnozz returned the way he had came and took a different turn at the last intersection.

He must have explored the passages for hours. He discovered a long tunnel that seemed endless. He guessed that it must lead out of the city. Another tunnel returned him to his own rooms. Further searching revealed the kitchen, two of the guard rooms, another harem in which slept eight scantily clad women, and finally the one which made him stop, a hidden room devoted to some dark god. The temple was occupied as well, by none other then the Queen herself. Therius Magnus was with her, and so were a few initiates and disciples of the evil religion. What made Kelnozz's breath catch in his throat was the figure on the alter. Her son. The Queen was indeed a priestess, but not of the order the people of Yolarch suspected. Instead of worshipping the generally benign God of Law and Order, Celos, she gave her soul to Bavorish, the God of death and murder.

Kelnozz could barely stop to appreciate Lesbiches jewelry adorned but otherwise nude form. He turned immediately to warn his companions when he heard something that made him stop. It was the noise of whimpering.

The boy, no more then sixteen years old at the best, was magically held upon the altar spread eagled. For one so young, to be bound naked was no doubt a terrifying experience. What made it worse was Lesbiche's chanting and behavior. She held a wicked looking dagger with four curved blades coming out of the hilt. Not knowing how he knew, Kelnozz knew what the dagger was meant to do.

Lesbich finished her chanting and crawled atop the altar with her son. There was no doubting her beauty, for her well rounded breasts swung freely as she leaned over the boy and her curved hips settled about his waist. Her long brown hair fell about the boys face, hiding his terrified expression from Kelnozz. The dark elf watched the evil priestess grinding her hips against her son, drawing an erection from him in spite of the terror in his eyes. Satisfied, she threw her head back and allowed everyone to see the glint of lust in her eyes and the wicked smile she wore on her face. Lifting up her hips, she drove herself down on the boys burgeoning manhood.

Kelnozz's disgust took form at that point. Red eyes glowing with rage, the dark elf pushed open the secret door and burst into the room. Lesbiche's eyes flew to his and the evil grin she wore chilled him to the bone. Unholy guards came at him, overriding their surprise.

Kelnozz disemboweled the first one, then ducked the halberd of the next one and drove a longsword through the mans throat. He walked towards the altar, intent upon destroying the evil priestess when he had to stop and deal with two more gaurds that had not reacted as quickly. The first of these felt Kelnozz's steel in his stomach, and the second fell back cursing as a deep wound opened along his sword arm. Kelnozz turned to continue his assault upon the altar when he heard Therius finish chanting and a chill crept over his limbs. He took two more steps before he found his limbs refusing to obey him.

Helpless, Kelnozz watched as the boy whimpered and pleaded with his mother to release him as she raped him. Nature took its course, however, and very soon the boy was fighting against what was happening inside of him. The queen moaned loudly as her own powers were being augmented by the sexual energy flowing into her. She raised up so that she was sitting upon her son, still riding him to their inevitable orgasm. The sacrificial dagger was raised high in anticipation of the result of their writhing and pumping thighs.

Kelnozz gritted his teeth and fought against his imprisonment, but other then a bare minimum of facial muscle control, he could do nothing. Behind him, Therius was using his dark powers to save the mortally wounded guard and then heal the other one. The first two were clearly dead already.

Kelnozz felt an overpowering sickness pass through him as the energies in the room began to manifest. The boy could fight it no longer, and he thrust up into his mother, filling her with his first, and last, seed. Lesbiche drove the dagger down at the same time, the blades magically opening and spearing into the boys chest. Her own orgasm overtook her then, making her writhe and grind her sex against the dying boy. They writhed against one another briefly, then she pulled the dagger free from the boy's chest, holding his still beating heart within its blades. With each beat blood spurt onto their naked and sweaty bodies. In spite of her sons final moments, she continued to grind herself against him, using her fey powers to draw every last bit of life from him.

Kelnozz watched in growing revulsion as the boy finally went limp, seeming to sag and deflate in death. Lesbiche continued to writhe against him, milking the corpses member and bringing herself another orgasm in the prossess. Satisfied at last, she climbed off of her murdered son and knelt in front of the altar. She began chanting again, completing the ritual by causing magical flames to erupt within the dagger and consume the cooling heart.

With the ritual completed, she rose and turned to face Kelnozz. Knowing him helpless, she walked up to him and ran her fingertips along his jawbone seductively. Inside he trmebled with rage, but outside only the glow of his eyes showed his mood.

"You have witnessed something few people not of our order can boast to have seen," she whispered in his ear. "But don't worry, you won't escape with your life to tell anyone of it."

She backed up and smiled wickedly at him. He knew nothing of fear, only loathing and hatred of the woman before him. More so when she stepped forward again and began to undo the ties on his breeches.

"You and your companions will be killed and put on display in the public square for the murder of my son that my faithful servant Therius so readily recovered from his kidnappers," she said, dropping Kelnozz's breeches and taking his flaccid member in her hands. "Just so you know the true futility of your situation, my son was never kidnapped, he escaped on his own when he chanced across this hidden temple to My Lord Bavorish and discovered the truth."

Kelnozz found that he could actually grind his teeth in frustration now, though further movement seemed impossible. Lesbiche sank to her knees in front of him then, still fondling him. "Normally I prefer the love of a woman," she explained to him, "but tonight I'm in the mood for a man."

Kelnozz may have been unable to move, but he could still feel. And what he felt was her mouth descending upon him. He groaned quietly and fought within himself to deny her any satisfaction. Fighting against her skills and talents proved even more difficult then fighting the spell that held him, however, and soon he found himself growing in her mouth. She looked up at him and smiled wickedly, redoubling her efforts.

However, the distraction served to distract Kelnozz from the spell and when he realized all of a sudden that he was rapidly gaining more control of his movements. Moving carefully so as to not alert them, he had most of the control of his arms back, and even limited mobility of his legs. His rage turning cold, he waited a few more precious seconds for the spell to wear off.

Lesbiche was having more of an affect upon him then he realized as well. Knowing how close he was, she continued her assault upon him with her mouth. She raised her dagger high above her head in a two handed grip with the intent of thrusting it into Kelnozz's chest when he exploded in her.

A distraction caused Lesbiche to stop momentarily. Kelnozz quietly breathed a sigh of relief, he wasn't fully able to move yet but he had been very close to losing his heart. A full ten soldiers led in a bound Pompey and Nordan. Nordan was naked, captured in his sleep, while Pompey had slept in his armor and expected trouble. Both were without weapons, however.

"You should listened to me!" Pompey hissed to Nordan, upon seeing the scene before them.

"Welcome," Lesbiche said huskily. "I can't remember ever having so many to sacrifice to Bavorish, he will surely look upon me with favor. As well the people of Yolarch will lend me their support in getting over my son being murdered by three assassins claiming to be my friend."

Pompey fought against his bonds, murder clearly in his eyes. Nordan stood their, seemingly calm, but by his increased breathing and the look in his eyes, it was obvious murder was indeed on his mind, but not the type Lesbiche had spoken of.

"Bitch, I'll not rest until this town is razed and you have felt the tender mercies of a barbarian horde!" Nordan spat out finally.

"That would indeed make a grand sacrifice, but I think not, my barbaric friend. No, instead I'll finish your dark elven friend here then your other companion. He is short, but I've heard men from Trillindad are well gifted. Finally, seeing how they faired, it will be your turn, I can already see that you will not disappoint me," she smiled as she looked straight at his revealed manhood. "I don't think you'll have quite the long spear your elf friend has, but it certainly looks to be a wide enough ram to tear down my gates."

With that in mind, she turned her attentions back to Kelnozz's still hard member. Kelnozz groaned as his torture was begun anew. This time, however, he was free of the spell and ready to move. Waiting for her to descend upon him, he dropped one sword and reached behind her head. He yanked her head into his crotch, forcing himself into her throat unexpectedly. Lesbiche's eyes flew open as she began to gag on him. He held her there for a moment, then pushed her away roughly.

Leaping up, Kelnozz left his breeches on the ground. Coming out of the distraction, one of the new guards rushed him. He rolled away as the guard swung his short sword at him, and came up with his dropped longsword in hand, allowing him to fight two handed again. Before the guard even turned around, Kelnozz had hamstrung him and turned to rush towards his friends.

Nordan gritted his teeth and roared as he flexed his muscle. The ropes securing his arms frayed and then burst under his great strength, allowing him to grab the guard nearest him and break his neck. He picked the guard up and threw him into another one coming towards him, giving him enough time to untie to rope around his feet.

Pompey continued to tear at his ropes, but was unable to do anything with them. He did, however, manage to use his plumed helm to advantage as he smashed it into the guard holding onto him. The guard stumbled back, momentarily senseless. Pompey took steps as long as the ropes would allow him and moved to Nordan's side.

Kelnozz heard some chanting and instinctively knew what was next. He dropped a sword again and pulled a dagger from his belt. Turning, he threw it, unsure of his target due to his haste. The dagger bit true, however, hitting Therius in the hand and interupting his spell casting. Kelnozz grabbed up his longsword while using the other one to deflect a spear thrust at him from a guard. He used the reacquired longsword to run the guard through, then he was back on his feet and running towards the secret door.

Seeing Kelnozz meant to escape, Nordan grabbed Pompey and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Pompey's grunt told him he was fine, so Nordan ran to Kelnozz and ducked into the passage.

Kelnozz led them to the passage he suspected led out of the city, leaving a still retching Lesbiche behind with her guards. The tunnel did indeed lead out of the city, ending at a very large rock. Nordan finally put Pompey down and moved to the rock. Kelnozz cut Pompey's ropes and the warrior cursed under his breath as blood returned to his limbs. He glared at Nordan throughout.

Grunting in exertion, the stone finally rolled away from the cave opening enough for the three of them to slip through single file. Outside Nordan again put his shoulder to it and slowly sealed the secret tunnel off.

"You could have helped," he said, looking at his companions.

"I wanted to see if you could do it," Kelnozz said, already looking about and getting his bearings. "We're East of the city."

"Let's head east then," Nordan said, moving forward.

Pompey and Kelnozz looked to one another then, as one, shrugged and followed him. "Why east?" Pompey asked.

"I mean to make good on my threat," Nordan said. "My tribe hunts this land and lives nearby..."

"- Ha! That's why you came to us with no breeches!" Helmut said around a mouthful of venison. "And why you were naked without even a weapon!" This to Nordan.

"A good story, I see why you wish this place ruined. Ah, to be young again."

"I will send runners to the other clans out in the morn, eat, drink, and wench now, for tomorrow we may die!" Helmut said, echoing the barbarians code of life. "We will plunder this city in less then one moon."

With the tale concluded, Nordan drained his horn of ale and slammed the table in appreciation. "This will be a good fight, uncle!"

Pompey looked around and noticed Kelnozz had gotten up and moved off. He slipped away from the table and wandered off a bit looking for him. He found him sitting on a log at the edge of the barbarians camp site, staring into the clear night sky.

"Problems my friend?" Pompey asked, sitting beside him.

"No, I just wished for some respite from the feasting."

"Do you think we stand a chance?" Pompey asked after a moment of shared silence.

Kelnozz chuckled and turned to look at the shorter man. "I don't really know, but it will be a lot of fun."

Pompey watched Kelnozz get up and walk back to the party, wondering why he stuck around his friends with their warped sense of what they considered fun.

---

"I'd say we took them rather by surprise!" Pompey called out to Nordan as they ran through the streets of Yolarch towards the palace.

Nordan grunted agreement, looking about as they charged a group of guards defending the palace. Helmut ran beside him, a feral grin on his face as he relived his youth. A few other barbarians ran with them as well, screaming their battle cries as the battle was joined.

A small group of barbarians, including the three companions, had come forth at dawn and acted as common travellers intent upon entering the city. At the gate the eight of them drew weapons and struck down the gaurds. For nearly fifteen minutes they fought a vicious battle to hold the gatehouse, but it was a battle that they won. They lost three barbarians in that fight, but the rest of the horde hiding outside the range of the guards night vision had gained the gate before they were driven back.

With the gate captured, it took some time to secure a foothold in the city. Once that was theirs though, Yolarch was theirs for the taking. They raced through it, fighitng pockets of soldiers throughout, but meeting little organized resistance. The palace was where the true fight would be, and both defender and attacker alike raced for it.

"What happened to the elf?" Nordan asked, hitting a defenders shield so hard with his hammer that both shield and the mans arm were broken.

"I don't know," Pompey said, leaving his spear embedded in a defenders chest and pulling out his gladius. "He said something about meeting up with us at the palace."

Nordan grunted again and continued to pound away at the defenders. Their group was the first to reach the palace, before many of the city watch had even reached it. A few more minutes of fighting and a brief hole opened around them.

"Get inside, lad!" Helmut shouted, blocking a sword with his axe. "We'll hold them off, you two get in there and end this!"

Nordan looked about for a moment, hesitating. Pompey had no such qualms, however, and after grabbing his spear and ripping it free from the corpse that sheathed it, he grabbed Nordan's arm and tugged him toward the open doors of the palace. Nordan stumbled at first but quickly caught up, having been commited to a course of action.

They raced through the halls towards the Queen's audience chamber, passing many terrified servants and scribes along the way. Finally they stood before the double doors of the audience chamber. It was barred shut. Growling, Nordan tried kicking it open, to no avail. He backed up and charged it, shoulder lowered. Pompey grimaced as there was a loud cracking noise when Nordan connected with it. The doors shuddered and seemed about to give, but in the end it was they that held and Nordan that picked himself off the floor.

"There must be another way in!" Pompey said, looking about frantically.

"Use this," Nordan said, pulling a stone statue of a beautiful girl across the floor.

Pompey nodded and together the picked up the heavy statue. Taking a practice swing first, they soon had the makeshift ram ready and it crashed into the doors, thudding loudly against them but causing no additional damage. They swung it again and again, but after ten swings the doors had only warped a small amount more and Pompey was forced to drop the heavy ram.

"C'mon lad, we can take this down!" Helmut said, running up beside them.

Pompey and Nordan glanced at him, seeing the blood running from a gash on his forehead and another on his cheek. He sported some similar wounds on the rest of his body, but nothing was deep enough to be dangerous.

Nordan nodded and threw his shoulder into the door again. Helmut attacked the other door the same way and over their heavy breathing and straining the large bar prohibiting entry could be heard to be cracking. Pompey dropped his spear and jumped between the two barbarians, throwing his shoulder into it as well. While nowhere near as strong as the others, he was a long time soldier and had developed more then the average amount of muscle over the years.

With all three of them straining at it, the doors soon gave in, pushing in with a last groan of twisted wood. Pompey grabbed up his spear and thrust it into the neck of the first guard to rush them, allowing Helmut and Nordan to clear the doors enough for them all to advance and ready their weapons.

Pompey found himself set upon by a group of three soldiers, and Helmut was stopped from helping him by four others. Nordan charged Lesbiche, who sat upon her throne on a dais at the other end of the audience hall. On his way there one of her advisors made some hand motions towards Nordan and he gritted his teeth expecting a magical spell. When nothing happened he relaxed a bit.

Just then silky strands of magical spider webbing floated down about him, sticking to him and trapping him in their midst. Nordan howled in rage and tore at the webbing, finding it seperated fairly easily under his strength, but he had a lot of it to get through still.

Therius stood nearby Lesbiche as well, and he once again began to invoke his spell of paralysis. Helmut had disabled one of his opponents and killed two already, so he was his first target. Triggering the spell, Therius was shocked to see Helmut completely unaffected by it. He figured it out when he saw a ring on the barbarians finger glowing briefly as it absorbed the magical powers of the spell.

Uncertain of what else it might absorb, he redirected his next spell towards Pompey. Pompey had just finished slaying two of his own opponents, and the third charged towards him with his sword raised. Pompey was raising his spear to block the sword when the spell hit him and froze him in place. The guard had been ready to avoid the block and skewer Pompey with his longsword. However, with Pompey frozen, the guard merely ended up crashing into the head of the spear prematurely.

Had Pompey been able to, he would have fallen to the floor laughing at the circumstances. Himself held immobile while the guard stood transfixed upon the point of his spear, coughing up blood and dying rapidly. His hidden amusement turned to alarm when he saw the wizard upon the dais begin another spell towards Nordan.

Nordan had made it nearly halfway through the twenty feet of magical webbing when the spiraling ball of flame came floating rapidly towards him. Having fought wizards before, he knew he was in trouble and he turned and dove back the way he had came. The ball of fire hit the ground right in front of where he had been and exploded. Nordan felt himself thrown further from the blast, landing painfully on the ground. As well much of his body hair had been singed, but overall he was not hurt to badly. All of the webbing had instantly been vaporized by the spell.

Helmet and Nordan advanced side by side, having nothing but a good forty feet of open space between them and the dais. Lesbiche rose from her throne, letting her robe part in front to reveal her nakedness beneath. Her pet wizard beside her stepped closer and readied another spell. Phineas was on her other side, and he called upon the dark powers of his God, preparing a spell that would surely suck the life from the barbarians.

"I applaud you on getting this close, but now you will die," Lesbiche said, apparently unfazed by the destruction done to her city. "Before you die, you will pay a thousand times for the interruptions you have caused me. You will beg for death long before I give it to you!"

"Therius, immobilize them!" She snapped.

She turned when her command was not immediately carried out. She saw Therius' mouth opening and shutting a few times before he said, "I... I can't..."

Snarling she hissed at him, "Why not?!"

"Because he's dead," Kelnozz said, stepping out of the shadows behind him and pushing the evil priest so that he lost his balance and fell to the floor. A dagger protruded from his back, sunk into the hilt.

"You!" Lesbiche hissed, seeing Kelnozz pulling one of his long swords out.

"Yes, it's me," The dark elf said, smiling.

"Did you come back to let me finish what I started?" she asked, still certain of her victory.

Kelnozz reached behind his back and untied the thong to the warhammer he carried from his weapon belt. It came free in his hand and he tossed it high in the air towards Nordan. "No, I came to see you destroyed once and for all!" He said, drawing his other sword finally.

Seeing his hammer coming towards him, Nordan took aim at the wizard he had begun another spell and threw. His aim was true, and the borrowed hammer crashed into the wizards forearm and then side, knocking him to the ground and taking the breath from his lungs. Nordan then caught his own hammer as it fell from the sky.

Lesbiche incanted her own spell and a glowing spectral mace appeared in her hand. She caught Kelnozz unaware with this and swung at him, nearly connecting. He figured the mace had some evil ability to it, so he determined he'd do whatever was necessary to stay out of its reach.

With Therius dead, Pompey suddenly found himself free to move again. He pulled his spear free from the dead guard and ran towards the dais, trying to get there in time. Nordan and Helmut moved closer as well, intent upon getting there, but not wanting to interfere with Kelnozz's battle.

Kelnozz easily dodged away from the spectral mace, and in return he used the flat of his blades on her, stinging and slapping whenever an opportunity presented itself. The rage and embarassment of such treatment showed itself in her erratic attacks. Before long she lunged at him, over balancing herself. Kelnozz spun around behind her and, with a laugh, delivered a solid kick to her backside. Lesbiche was launched off the dais and on to the floor in front of Nordan and Helmut.

The barbarians quickly secured her, making certain that she was bound and gagged so she could cast no more spells. Trussed up as she was, they tore off her robe and openly admired her naked form.

"You'll not get away so easily!"

They all spun to the mage's words, seeing him back on his feet and already beginning a new spell. With none of them close enough to stop him, they realized they were doomed. Fate intervened in the form of Pompey's thrown spear. It took the mage in the belly, doubling him over.

"About time you helped out!" Kelnozz said, hopping down from the dais and grinning towards Pompey.

The elder warrior shook his head but couldn't help but grin back at the dark elf. They clasped hands and turned back to Lesbiche. "What shall we do with her?" Pompey asked.

Nordan and Helmut were already removing their breeches. "I'm going to keep my promise," Nordan said, maneuvering her into a position more to his liking.

Pompey shook his head and turned away. "You don't want to help punish her for her crimes?" Kelnozz asked, stepping beside him.

"No, it's not my way. I prefer my women willing," he said.

"Aye, me as well, what say we go and find some willing women once this silly ruckus is over?"

Pompey looked at the elf to see if he was serious. Seeing he was, he shook his head again and said, "You're crazy, Kelnozz!"

"I may be crazy," Kelnozz said, "but you're the one that keeps following me!"

Pompey stopped short as the elf's words hit him. Then he started laughing and hurried to catch up to his friend.

Continued in Chapter 2

---