The Resplendent Fortress - Part 1

Part 1

The Resplendent Fortress shook as powerful, heliotrope bolts impacted against it's shining surface. Ancient stone that had lasted for countless years rained down onto the battlements below, crushing many defenders into bloody smears. Fire flashed as fearsome white dragons bombarded the thousands of attacking infantry below with scorching holy light.

Warlocks attempted to shield the advance with infernal magic powered by the souls of captured prisoners. Hundreds screamed in agony as their precious life-forces were sucked up with every collision of unstable power. Mortals were blinded with every overpowering marriage of light and darkness.

Hideous constructs, each more monstrous than the last assaulted the walls of the Resplendent Fortress. They were colossal things, so tall that they overlooked the battlements and their defenders who appeared as angry little ants as they retaliated with their pitiful weapons. Those beautiful walls were soon stained crimson with the blood of mutilated bodies.

"Forwards!" yelled Captain Nuran, drawing his sword. His company of soldiers answered with their own battle-cries which could barely be heard over the chaotic siege. Leaping over the rotting corpses of the various failed attempts, Nuran sprinted from cover to cover while keeping his head low and his eyes downcast. His dirty armour clattered against a collection of fallen white stone that still glimmered faintly with infused power.

"Forwards!" he ordered again, waving his rusting sword like a banner-pole.

Those foolish enough to gaze up at the Resplendent Fortress were overcome with the sheer beauty of it's construction, the smooth creamy walls and intricately craved architecture. They were easy prey for the skilled eleven archers and many died horrible deaths as the poisoned tips delivered the promise of a slow, painful death to those unfortunate enough to survive.

Foolish mortals mused Robert Nuran, a Captain in the utterly reprehensible Blademaster 32nd company. Or at least that was what he appeared on the outside. Leandra Nymoria Hildegarde was a deadly assassin of the highest order. She was a vampire, a fleshweaver and was utterly cold and ruthless in the pursuit of her missions.

Currently she inhabited the body of a mortal male, a soldier in the employ of Dark Warlord Lucius whom she had killed moments before the assault. His unnoticed body lay in the putrid mud, one among countless thousands.

The horrific siege that had stretched on for an entire year provided a convenient opportunity to infiltrate the practically impregnable Resplendent Fortress and seek out that which was precious to her. Usually her target would have been assigned, her hands merely instruments of death but not today. No, not today. This was a personal mission, one that would answer a question that had tormented her ageless mind like a sickness.

What do I really look like? Was I raven haired perhaps?

Leandra shook herself out of her little reminiscence and surveyed the battlefield. Among the relentless slaughter and madness stood a single shining figure that shone like a beacon. Leandra recognized her as Saint Theresia, a holy warrior blessed by heaven. Saint Theresia was a radiant presence who inspired those human knights around her to even greater heights of valour. A gleaming crown sat atop her soft golden curls.

"Onwards," she ordered. "Drive the wicked enemy back! Divinity awaits those chosen few!"

She fought savagely despite her angelic appearance, her flaming sword carving a deadly arc with every swing. Seasoned warriors died in the bloodbath until her flowing blonde hair was stained a menacing shade of red. While the prospect of facing down a living saint might have terrified most individuals mortal or otherwise, Leandra sensed a golden opportunity.

She sprung into action and joined the general melee. The putrid mud made it difficult to move but Leandra pushed herself towards that tantalizing holy glow that signified her objective. Her blade lashed out like a vipers bite, maiming many warriors as she took a bloody toll on the enemy. Tendons were cut, necks slashed as she danced through combat quite unlike the brutish fighting style of the Blademaster captain.

In the tight press of bodies it was easy for Leandra to approach the saint while avoiding the pinpoint arrow fire from the overlooking elven defenders. Saint Theresia rounded on the sinister creature creeping up behind her. Her flaming blade was almost serine as it flashed and Leandra was almost bisected in two, or would have been had she not dragged one of her supposed allies into the weapon's path. The man crumbled to the ground and was promptly crushed underfoot by the throng of battle.

"You're not human," Theresia spat venomously. "Thy death awaits you fowl hellspawn!"

Her righteous aura began to strengthen, the divine presence almost compelled Leandra to vomit the contents of her stomach but she pushed the sensation down before extinguishing it completely. Not wanting to prolong matters, Leandra attacked, her rapid sword-strikes coming in at impossible angles as she circled her saintly opponent.

Sparks flew as Theresia effortlessly parried every thrust, every calculated lunge as if her hands were guided by a higher power and perhaps they were at that. The vampire knew that she had no chance of besting this blessed champion while trapped within this very mortal vessel. The flesh was too limiting, too human to compete with such an avatar of celestial vengeance.

I'll have to risk discovery and use my scissors.

Leandra's magical scissors were sharper than steel, a unique assassination tool that could be delivered silently and without warning. She feinted a clumsy overhead cut before throwing her sword straight at Saint Theresia who swatted it away almost contemptuously, the idea of such a dishonourable gambit disgusted the hero of light but the vampire wasn't finished.

Behind the discarded weapon came Leandra's scissors, those midnight black ripples of colour that wailed through the air like a banshee's scream. Theresia blinked in surprise as her masterwork armour was criss-crossed with savage looking slashes of dark lightening. The metal splintered and painfully pieced her skin like canister shot. Theresia cried out in agony before passing out, her holy aura snapping out of existence loudly enough to deafen those unfortunate souls nearest to her.

Soldiers collapsed clutching bleeding ears. Theresia's own knights hesitated as their source of divine inspiration suddenly abandoned them, the hellish battlefield suddenly becoming clear in all it's horrible glory. Leandra grabbed the creamy white pauldrons of the fallen saint's armour and began to drag her unconscious body through the mud.

The ground shook with all the frighting force of an earthquake as one of the massive constructs assaulting the fortress battlements was decapitated by a shining archangel's wing. It's massive form slammed into the tortured earth, crushing countless attackers in the process underneath that unholy sickening mass.

Leandra stumbled but remained steadfast in purpose and found an overhanging outcropping of white marble that had once belonged to the breathlessly perfect spires of the Resplendent Fortress. Not even pausing to catch her breath, the vampire began to undress her soon to be vessel. The hands of captain Nuran unclipped leather straps and buckles before removing the blackened breastplate, gauntlets and undergarments.

Theresia mumbled as her naked form was slowly revealed piece by tantalizing piece. Despite her influence, Leandra felt her male mortal body stiffen as she gazed upon the slumbering beauty. Theresia truly resembled the fabled sleeping princess save for the numerous scars that blemished her otherwise flawless skin. An untouched slice of heaven ripe for the taking.

Of course, such carnal desires were of no concern to such a cold-hearted assassin. No, her intentions were of a purely practical nature. As a holy saint, Leandra could potentially infiltrate the Resplendent Fortress and seek out that which had been lost to her for so very long. Several lifetimes worth of killing and fleshweaving into her victims had somehow diluted Leandra's existence. She felt totally empty, a lifeless shell who blindly followed the guild's orders with no aspirations of her own.

Leandra Nymoria Hildegarde...what meaning does that name hold?

Saint Theresia's full breasts heaved in line with her laboured breathing. Her golden curls drifted across her smooth skin like the impossibly fine strings of a harp. Those rosy red lips that could manifest glorious miracles were pursed invitingly together. Her lithe body looked so frail, so vulnerable for such a fearsome character. Surprisingly, her crotch sported a trimmed bush of blonde pubic hair that guarded the entrance to her most private of places. Clearly this devote woman had devoted herself to unwavering faith rather than that of a loving wife.

"W-what are you doing?" mumbled saint Theresia, her striking blue eyes unfocused and watery.

Leandra didn't respond as she piled up the saint's clothing atop her cloak so that it wouldn't be soiled by the muddy battlefield. She would need to utilize them later and would rather they weren't waterlogged by the fowl cesspit.

"Undressing me in such an indecent manner, you inhuman fiend!" said Theresia, clearer this time. "I demand to know what you're doing!"

Leandra leaned over the saint, her muscular male body completely naked and fully erect which didn't escape the notice of the shocked Theresia. Her eyes widened, the faintest traces of apprehension appearing on her reflective pupils.

"I will not yield to torture so easily, fowl creature. I have already pledged my body and soul to a higher power."

"I only require your body," Leandra said flatly, her male voice harsh and matter-of-fact. "You may keep your soul. Your divinity proves most troublesome however. Captain Nuran was a sinful murderer and rapist and as such, an easy mark. You however my dear saint, you need to be sullied, your faith weakened in order for me to overcome those invisible barriers that separate us all."

"I will never yield!" spat Theresia bitterly. She gasped as her tormentor positioned his throbbing member against her sex. She would be penetrated, her precious virginity stolen away. Theresia steeled her heart against the corrupting influence and gritted her teeth. She flinched as an almost gentle hand brushed her hair tenderly. Theresia looked upwards while trying to remain as defiant as possible.

"There is no reason for this to be unpleasant, my dear saint. Savour the experience. Deny yourself no longer the pleasures of a woman."

"W-what-" Theresia began before her face contorted in pain as her maidenhead was forcibly pierced. The sudden stabbing pain was incredible but it only lasted a few moments before unfamiliar, almost pleasing sensations blossomed from between her legs. Leandra grabbed her unwilling partner and skillfully probed the hidden delights of this untarnished treasure. Theresia's swaying tits flicked sweat everywhere as her cunt was mercilessly plunged into repeatedly.

"I would rather feel pain than this humiliation!" She bit down on her own lip hard enough to draw blood. Theresia could take solace from the pain for that was a feeling that she understood all too well. "Just give in," Leandra moaned as she alternated the timing and direction of her thrusts. Soon the wet slapping sounds of flesh against flesh was joined by reluctant groans of pleasure from the pious woman who felt her own wetness grow between her virgin lips.

Theresia detested the fact that her own body was betraying her, that this forced copulation could invoke such powerful feelings in such a pure soul as her own. The invading member rubbed her moist walls in a most delicious way. As an assassin, Leandra was very skilled in seduction and the sexual arts, doubly so as her unique nature allowed her to experience sexuality as both genders.

"Does it feel good," Leandra asked as she leaned down and took one creamy breast into her salivating mouth as her penis fucked into her quivering partner. While the man's skin was rough with stubble, the technique was simply sublime. Theresia groaned as her nipple was sucked on with great enthusiasm, the tip hardening into a succulent red cherry. When Leandra was satisfied, she moved onto the next one, her tongue wrapping around the tender nipple as her mouth sucked down hard.

"No!" Theresia pleaded as she attempted to cover up her shameful, panting expression. "No more! I beg of you, please! I do not wish to feel this way anymore!"

"Just give in to the pleasure," Leandra said as she grasped the woman's trembling hips and redoubled her efforts. With all the strength this mortal male could muster, she stabbed her twitching spear deep into Theresia's yielding cunt, her wet walls massaging the violating cock as if begging to be impregnated.

It was all too much for Theresia to bear. She began to sob uncontrollably as the electrifying warmth emanating from her pussy almost drowned her mind in intoxicating bliss. Those panting red lips began to chant a hallowed prayer to shield her spiritual purity but already the battle was lost. Leandra's immortal soul began to feed off her virginal essence. It radiated compassion like a lovely summer's meadow day complete with chirping birds and sweet, smiling sunflowers.

Leandra reached down, her human vessel's eyes glowing a ghostly shade of crimson as her protruding vampire fangs finally revealed themselves. Theresia gasped in ecstasy as Leandra bit down hard into the supple skin of her neck and drank deeply as her pulsing cock spurted thick forceful streams of sticky sperm inside her receptive womb. Copious amounts of cum flooded every inch of her climaxing pussy.

Captain Nuran ceased to be, his abhorrent memories erased as the vampire known as Leandra Nymoria Hildegarde became the champion of light, the blessed Saint Theresia.

Continued in Part 2

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