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Subject: Wulf: Nemesis 2/5 (m/f, m/f/f/f, f/f, cons. s&m)
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	"Ohhhhh..." Lady Vaenetha began to moan almost before the
first Dark Elf’s tongue touched her naked vulva. Daedora fancied she
could see goose bumps rising on the thighs of the bound elf woman, but
perhaps it was her imagination.
	Not her imagination was the intense licking the elf began to
receive from her two ebon lovers. First the male, then the female,
lavished attention on Vaenetha’s cunt, first stroking and licking the
shaved outer lips, then slowly stroking them open to reveal the soft,
moist flesh beneath. Then the male held her open with long, slender
fingers, allowing the female to lap at the elf woman’s inner lips, and
nibble briefly at the silver ring that pierced her clit.
	Vaenetha responded to this in a fashion that would have made
her relatives back in the Isles hide their faces in shame. Her moans
rose, building toward a shriek, and she tugged at her bonds, straining
her wrists against the black leather cuffs. Her pink, pierced nipples
swelled up of their own accord, rising and falling with the increased
rhythm of the captive elf’s feverish breath.
	"See, my kindred?" Thae’Lynn said, walking closer and
gesturing toward the elf. "See how she enjoys the attentions of her
new lovers, how she revels in the forbidden sensations of
Zhalha'sarr'im tongues against the yearning flesh of her throbbing
pearl? How she wants more? You do want more, don’t you, my dear?"
	Vaenetha nodded, lips parted, eyes begging. "Yes. More. More,
please."
	Her enthusiasm seemed genuine, for all could see the
quickening of her breaths, and the swelling of both her pink nipples
and the prominent bud of her clitoris. Then the dark elf woman
encircled Vaenetha’s clit with her lips and sucked gently, but with
increasing pressure.
	"Ohhhhh. Oh." The golden-haired elf’s moans grew even louder.
She licked her lips again, and pursed them, as if searching for
something to place them against.
	"She wants to suck something, does she? What a slutty little
elf she is." Thae’Lynn addressed the male dark elf. "Go give the elf
whore something, Navan."
	Navan obliged, standing to reveal a growing erection, and
offering it to the distraught Vaenetha. Hands still bound, she allowed
the male to slip his member between her full red lips. Her moans
continued, though muffled, as Navan began to slide his prick in and
out of her mouth, growing steadily harder and larger with each stroke.
	Between Vaenetha’s legs, the silver-haired female was still
busy, her tongue pointed, lapping at the stiffening clit, then
stopping to bite and tug at the silver ring that pierced it. The
effect was to increase the tenor of Vaenetha’s moans, and quicken her
feverish breaths, even as Navan’s thrusts into her mouth grew faster
and more insistent.
	"Suck him, whore," Thae’Lynn said, moving closer, running her
hands against her own breasts. "Suck his nice, hard cock until he
comes. Fuck her mouth, Navan."
	Navan seized Vaenetha’s head, grabbing great handfuls of
golden hair, yanking her down on the black shaft of his cock,
thrusting in and emerging gleaming with Vaenetha’s saliva.
	It only excited the elf woman more. She dragged at her bonds,
and squeezed the female’s head between her thighs, her groans becoming
screams, rising and falling with each thrust of the male’s cock, with
each stroke of the female’s tongue, then redoubled as the female
plunged two fingers inside her, slipping between the swollen pink lips
of her cunt. 
	"Mmmm," groaned Navan. "Unnn... Yes..."
	"Make him come," Thae’Lynn urged, moving closer, ignoring her
audience, barking commands into the elf woman’s ears. "Suck him like
the slut you are, and make him come in your mouth. Understand me, elf
whore?"
	Vaenetha’s eyes widened, and she nodded, sucking faster at the
now fully-erect black cock.
	"See how she obeys?" Thae’Lynn said. She’d slipped a hand
beneath her gown and was busy at one nipple. "Watch the little elf
whore make him come."
	"Come," whispered Vaenetha, urgently. "Come now. My
mistress... mmm... my mistress bids it..."
	"Ahhhh..." moaned Navan. The pace of his thrusting grew, and a
look of intense concentration contorted his face. "Ahhh..."
	"Mmmm." Vaenetha’s voice was muffled by the hard cock in her
mouth. She released him. "Come for my mistress."
	"Ahhhh..." The dark elf went rigid, the stiff black member
contracting, spurting hot white semen across the elf woman’s pale
face. Her tongue flicked rapidly, licking up the sticky white fluid. 
	"Lick it up, slut," hissed Thae’Lynn. "Tell everyone that
you’re a little elf slut."
	"I’m a little elf slut, mistress," Vaenetha replied, semen
trailing from her red lips. Between her legs, the female dark elf was
still busy, spittle and cunt juice gleaming on her face. "I’m...
I’m..."
	"Are you coming, little elf slut?"
	"Ahhh... Mistress... I’m... I’m..." Vaenetha flushed pink,
then red, and her body shook. "Ahhh. I’m... I’m your slut, mistress.
Your slave..."
	"Coming now?"
	"Coming now, mistress. Your slave is coming..." She convulsed
again, dragging her wrists against the restraints, squeezing the dark
elf female’s head between her thighs. "I... I want... I want..."
	"What do you want, slut?"
	"I want to be fucked, mistress." Another convulsion. "I want
to be fucked like a slut."
	"Hm." Thae’Lynn motioned at the two dark elves. "Stop
pleasuring this slut. It’s my turn now."
	Dutifully, Vaenetha’s lovers stepped back and melted into the
shadows. The elf woman moaned briefly in frustration.
	Thae’Lynn pointed to Yawesha'ae, who glided forward, head
bowed, to loosen the fastenings of her gown. In a single motion,
Thae’Lynn let it slide to the floor, and stood before the gathering,
naked black flesh accented by gleaming silver rings in her navel, and
a host more dangling and glinting between her thighs. Yawesha'ae
stepped behind her, removing combs and hair sticks, and a moment later
the Duchess’ silvery tresses tumbled down her back like a gleaming
waterfall.
	Thae’Lynn dismissed her slave, who returned to a submissive
kneeling posture nearby. She turned to the assembled dark elves, who
continued to gape in silent awe. She spread her arms wide, breasts
riding up, ribs standing out starkly against her dark skin.
	"See her, brothers and sisters?" she said again, motioning
toward Vaenetha, who sagged in her bonds, momentarily sated, sweat
gleaming on her face, shoulders and breasts. Her nipples were heavily
swollen, and the chain between them grew taut with each fevered
breath, eliciting a faint moan of desire from the elf woman’s wet,
parted lips.
	"She is ours, body and soul. She will do whatever her mistress
wishes. She wants her mistress to fuck her like the little elf slut
that she is. Don’t you, pet?"
	Vaenetha nodded rapidly, biting her lower lip. "Yes, mistress.
Yes, mistress. I want you to fuck me like a slut."
	"Hm." Thae’Lynn gestured and now Mazzor approached, bearing a
carved onyx box. "My daemon lover has a certain item here which you
might all find interesting."
	The winged monster opened the box and prodded a finger inside.
There was motion, and a curious object emerged, crawling like a dark
insect. Its initial appearance was that of a set of male genitalia
supported by six crab-like legs.
	"An ancient automaton, created before the Great Catastrophe,"
Thae’Lynn said. "See what it does, brothers and sisters."
	With that, the nightmarish contraption scuttled from Mazzor’s
hands over to Thae’Lynn, and up her leg. In a swift motion, the
automaton seemed to elongate, growing in two directions at once -- one
side grew into a simulacrum of an erect penis, long and thick, while
the other end stretched into a second, smooth cylinder of flesh.
Thae’Lynn closed her eyes and sighed as the thing slipped its legs
around her thighs, and the smooth end slid between them, sliding past
the jingling silver rings that pierced her labia, then slipping
smoothly inside her. The thing then moved one last time, its edges
blurring, merging with the flesh of Thae’Lynn’s abdomen, thighs and
cunt.
	"It’s part of me now," Thae’Lynn breathed. "And now, look at
it."
	Now, emerging from Thae’Lynn’s crotch was a heavy black
phallus, thick-headed and slightly curved. This was no artificial
device, hard and lifeless, attached by straps -- this seemed truly
fused with Thae’Lynn’s flesh, responsive as a real penis.
	"We’re working to duplicate these now," the Duchess said.
"We’ll have them available for sale in a few months."
	There was an audible gasp from the female dark elves who,
having long since tired of trying to instill passions in their
bloodless male cohorts, saw endless possibilities in the new device.
	"Now," breathed Thae’Lynn, her voice tight against the
all-filling sensation of her new organ, "now, the little elf slut can
be fucked."
	Lady Vaenetha’s eyes widened, and a look of mindless desire
brightened her face.
	"Fuck me, mistress," she sighed. "Fuck me with your big cock."
	Thae’Lynn stepped toward her, the new phallus before her like
a rigid polearm.
	"I’ll fuck you, elf slut," she said, climbing astride the
platform and crawling toward her captive. "No fear. It’s how I’ll fuck
you that’s the question."
	"Any way you want," Vaenetha pleaded, and all watching knew
that her plea was sincere. "Fuck me any way you want. Put that cock
anywhere you want."
	Now Thae’Lynn was poised above Vaenetha, her silver hair
cascading down onto both of them. Her pierced nipples grazed the
silver rings in the elf-woman’s breasts, making quiet metallic sounds.
Thae’Lynn reached down and stroked the head of her erect cock against
Vaenetha’s moist cunt-lips.
	"Want it?" Thae’Lynn demanded in a whisper audible to everyone
watching. "Want it?"
	"I want it," Vaenetha replied. "I want it."
	"You have come all over your face," Thae’Lynn said, and licked
at Vaenetha’s semen-streaked cheek. "I think you need some more."
	"I want your come on me," Vaenetha said. "I want your cock to
come all over me."
	"I will, slut, I will."
	With that, Thae’Lynn slipped the oversized head of the
artificial cock between Vaenetha’s cunt-lips and thrust into her with
a single, violent motion.
	"Ahhhhhhh..." the elf’s cry, mixing pain and exultation,
echoed in the high-roofed chamber. "Ah, mistress... Oh, it’s so
big..."
	"And you’ll take it all, won’t you, bitch?" Thae’Lynn
demanded, and began to drive, thrusting in and out. "Take all of this
big beautiful cock in that hot, wet cunt. Take it all and love it."
	"Yes, mistress... Yes, beloved mistress..."
	"Say you love it."
	"I love it, mistress. I love your big, beautiful cock...
Ohhh... You’re making me come again..."
	Vaenetha writhed against Thae’Lynn, white flesh against black,
large pale breasts against Thae’Lynn’s smaller ebon ones, hips
grinding as the dark elf’s gracefully curved buttocks thrust again and
again in ever-increasing rhythm.
	Thae’Lynn began to moan incoherently as well, her words
becoming a meaningless blur. The thing inside her must have attached
to her in a manner more than purely physical, for the excitement was
genuine, and her groans clearly those of a woman on the verge of
mind-blasting orgasm.
	"Ahhhh..." Thae’Lynn gasped. "It makes me come. It makes me
come as a woman and as... as a man... Gods and daemons... fuck...
fuck..."
	"Harder! Please!" Vaenetha’s cries rose to a fevered pitch of
unthinking desire, as if the entirety of her existence hung upon
pleasing the black-skinned woman above her, as if they were now both
the same creature, an amalgam of male and female, of light and dark,
of dominance and submission. "Fuck me harder... Oh... Ohhhh..."
	Another series of orgasms wracked the golden-haired woman, and
her legs twined around Thae’Lynn, pumping along with the dark elf,
pulling the now-gleaming black cock into her even faster, thrusting
harder and deeper with each stroke.
	"I’m coming. Coming for you, mistress.... Ohhhhhh...."
Vaenetha flung her head back, hair flying, cheeks flushed. "I...
come... for... you..."
	Thae’Lynn  had reached her limit as well, for she pulled out
abruptly and jumped astride Vaenetha’s torso, stroking the long black
cock with her hands. The automaton contracted, jetting white across
the elf woman, splashing her face again, splattering across her
proffered tongue.
	"Oh, mistress," Vaenetha whispered. "Oh, sweet mistress..."
	"Good little slut," replied Thae’Lynn, stroking the woman’s
semen-covered face, then licking her fingers. "Good little slut."
	Then she turned and stepped off the platform, allowing
Yawesha'ae to towel the sweat and semen from her body. The automaton,
spent for the moment, slithered from her and slipped to the floor,
where Mazzor retrieved it and returned it to its box.
	Their part in the pageant completed, the high elves resumed
their hoods, recovered the litter, swiftly and obediently withdrawing
into the darkness. A moment later, Thae’Lynn’s other attendants
likewise vanished, leaving her, alone and still naked in the center of
the multitude, her face a mask of self-satisfaction and arrogance. She
threw her head back and again spread her arms wide, breasts bobbing
up, twinkling brightly.
	"Sisters and brothers, hear me!" she shouted. "You have seen
what I have done. Our arrogant cousins are reduced to humiliating
submission and serve me! Has any of our people done such a thing
before?"
	The silence which welled up in the chamber seemed to answer
"no." Even the Prince was silent, wondering what the Duchess’ next
words would be.
	"I have led our people before," she continued, "and, yes, we
have failed. But with each failure we learn more. Listen to me,
sisters and brothers -- I offer to lead you again, lead you to a
glorious destiny that is assured. I stake my life upon it."
	"And if you fail, what them?" demanded a voice from House
Yaleatta. "More death and suffering for our people, and you washing
your hands of responsibility?"
	"Nay, sister," Thae’Lynn shot back. "I said I would stake my
life upon it, and I do. If I lead you again and fail, my life is
forfeit, and the Prince may take it as he chooses."
	The Prince himself looked impressed, and nodded as if to urge
Thae’Lynn to continue.
	"Our people live and scheme in shadow," she said. "We creep
unseen and work mischief in secret. This need not end now, and what I
propose involves virtually no risk of shedding Zhalha'sarr'im blood.
All our work will be done by others, and when they have finished, we
will simply claim what is ours by right!"
	"Fine words!" barked Duchess Kyla Nendotha. "Your deeds have
yet to match them, Lady!"
	"As I said, sister," Thae’Lynn replied in a low, determined
voice, "should I fail, my life belongs to the Prince and to this
council. I will not fail."
	"And what new price to you ask from your long-suffering
people?" Nendotha persisted.
	Thae’Lynn nodded sagely, as if this was the question which she
had been waiting for.
	"Long ago, before we were exiled to this barren rock of a
continent," she said, "our people had an office called In’choreta, or
‘Protector.’ The protector led her people in war and crisis in the
name of the King or Queen, and her word was law. We have not had a
Protector in ten thousand years, but today I beg the Prince’s
indulgence, and ask that he award me that office for a probationary
period of one year. If after that time I have not performed to his
satisfaction, I will voluntarily step down and accept any punishment
he deems fit."
	There was a moment of stunned silence, then the chamber burst
forth in a confused babble of voices. The naming of Protector was one
of the few powers that the Prince retained, and as Thae’Lynn said, it
had not been used in millennia. The notion of using it now...
	At last, a single voice rose above all the others and with a
shock Daedora realized that it came from her Aunt Shadera.
	"She demands absolute power, and says she will voluntarily
give it up!" she shouted. "She asks that we hand her the crown, keys
and sceptre, on a vague promise of glory! Lady Thae’Lynn is either mad
or a fool, and I will follow neither!"
	Another chaos of voices rose up, some shouting in agreement,
others screaming defiance. In the center of the chamber, Prince Tyreth
and two advisors spoke with Thae’Lynn and spoke back and forth with
growing urgency. After several long moments, in which several scuffles
broke out between opposing households, the Prince stepped forward,
raising his hands for peace.
	"Silence!" he shouted. "Silence now! I will speak to Lady
Thae’Lynn’s request!"
	The Prince’s guards finally had to step in to restore order,
and soon the chamber was quiet once more, though black glances between
rival groups continued. Beside Daedora, her aunt fumed and her uncle
looked fearful.
	"The Duchess of Darkoak Hill asks that we name her
In’choreta," Prince Tyreth said. "While it is true that her plans up
to now have proved less than successful, her intent was admirable, and
only chance and treacherous allies thwarted us. She has told me what
she plans, and I find it both reasonable and feasible. With the
understanding that she will voluntarily relinquish the office in one
year should she fail, we hereby name Lady Thae’Lynn N’Quy our
In’choreta, Protector of the Zhalha'sarr'im realms!"
	If the previous noise had been loud, what followed was
deafening. More than half the assembled households raised their voices
in agreement and proclamation, shouting long life to the Prince and
glory to Lady Thae’Lynn. Others stood, shocked or contemplative,
waiting to see the outcome of the discussion before choosing sides. A
few brave few actually cried out in protest, trying to shout down the
now-overwhelming exultation supporting the Tyreth and Thae’Lynn.
	Among these was Aunt Shadera.
	"No!" she shouted, an edge of desperation in her voice. "Once
given the power she will never relinquish it! She has brought nothing
but suffering to our people, and now you would give her ultimate
power, simply because she has enslaved some high elves! Fools! All of
you!"
	"Silence, bitch!" shouted a young man from House M’Than,
racing at Shadera with a drawn knife. Two of Shadera’s bodyguards
stepped forward, glaives whirling, slicing the boy open in a spray of
blood. Daedora gaped in horror as the body fell, twitching, knife
clanging to the stone floor.
	Elsewhere, similar scenes were being played out, and an
instant later, Daedora saw Thae’Lynn’s household guards and the
Prince’s soldiers wade into the crowd, weapons drawn, slashing at all
of those who had opposed the proclamation.	
	"Damn her!" Shadera cried. "She’s drawn her enemies out into
the open and now she’s taking the opportunity to wipe us out! Daedora!
Vomoss! We must flee!"
	Daedora turned, hand darting to her belt where hung her
firewand. Ceremonial, it nonetheless carried a full load of deadly
spells, and when one of Thae’Lynn’s guards, a thin elf in black armor,
appeared before her, Daedora cut him down without compunction,
transforming him into a twitching, gibbering torch lit with purple
flames.
	As they fled the chamber, a great commotion erupted behind,
the screams of the combatants redoubling in volume. Thae’Lynn’s
daemon, Mazzor, had joined the fray, grabbing elves and smashing them
against walls or tearing them asunder.
	Daedora, Vomoss and Shadera escaped with a handful of guards.
	"We’ll never survive with that thing after us," Shadera said.
"Make for the pinnacle. There should be warbats there. We can fly from
here before they realize we’ve gone."
	And so they struggled along the winding, narrow stairs and
passages of Council Spire, climbing higher and higher, until at last
they reached a wind-swept landing, a dizzying, nauseating distance
above the mountains and rocky plains below. A couple of guards stood
near a squadron of warbats, but they only stared curiously as Aunt
Shadera and her retainers mounted up.
	"Quickly!" she urged, untethering her animal and kicking it
awake. "We’ve only a few --"
	"Stop them! Traitors! Don’t let them escape!" The shout came
almost in direct response to Daedora’s aunt’s words, and an instant
later the landing was alive with soldiers, some in the Prince’s
colors, others in livery of Thae’Lynn or her allies.
	Then, Daedora and Shadera were airborne, the landing vanishing
behind them. Uncle Vomoss cried out in agony as a crossbow bolt
pierced his chest and he tumbled from the saddle, twisting and
dwindling in the long fall to the ground. The last of Shadera’s
household guards sacrificed themselves so that their Duchess could
escape, falling before the swords of the usurper and her toadies.
	If there was airborne pursuit, it was too late, for the
fleeing pair were able to make it to a friendly outpost on the edge of
Yth’ela territory. Daedora’s bat collapsed, panting and drooling,
spilling her onto the stone courtyard as Yth’ela soldiers hastened to
help her.
	"We made it," Aunt Shadera said, weakly, to the captain of the
guard. Her husband of nearly 200 years was gone, but his loss had yet
to make itself felt fully. "Thae’Lynn N’Quy has persuaded the Prince
to grant her total authority, and she used her power to kill all who
opposed her at the Council. As of today, we are at war with House
N’Quy and its allies."
	The captain stared in horror. "Allies?" she said,
disbelieving. "Thae’Lynn has allies?"
	Shadera nodded. "The Prince among them. I fear our house is
now at war with the remainder of the Zhalha'sarr'im."
	"Daemons save us," whispered the captain.
	"They will not," Shadera said, grimly. "No one can save us
now. All we can do is delay the inevitable."
	And so it was. Aunt Shadera had never been a fool, and her
prediction was rapidly proved true. A handful of minor noble families
opposed Thae’Lynn; these were quickly crushed. Of the major houses,
only Yth’ela and the Dragon clans of Nendotha openly stood against
her. Though Yth’ela commanded powerful magics, and each Nendotha
Dragonscale Warrior was worth a hundred ordinary soldiers, all of the
rebels knew it was only a matter of time before Thae’Lynn’s triumph
was complete.

Thae’Lynn
	Prince Tyreth’s moans were thin and, to Thae’Lynn’s ears,
weak. So unlike the virile males she normally bedded -- the minotaurs,
ogres, humans, tigers, leopards, and others. Though her distaste for
male Dark Elves remained considerable, she knew, as she bobbed her
head with feigned enthusiasm, sliding Tyreth’s erect manhood into her
mouth, that this was necessary, both for her and for her people.
	"Oh, Duchess..." he gasped, hands gripping the back of her
head and driving her on. "Oh, dearest Duchess."
	We must always use titles, mustn’t we, Thae’Lynn thought,
contemptuously, letting Tyreth’s black cock go, and running her tongue
up its underside, careful to stroke the hard silver ball on the end of
her tongue bar against its softest portions. She was rewarded by
another shudder and moan, and by increased pressure on her head.
	"Oh, suck it, please."
	A sense of power infused Thae’Lynn, to have one of the most
powerful leaders on all of Thystra in the palm of her hand (or, more
specifically, in her mouth), to have him begging and pleading for her
attention...
	No, she told herself, deliberately stretching her lips to
surround the Prince’s good-sized organ and feeling it slide past them.
She pressed her tongue bar down again as it went, feeling his heat
rise.
	No. He is but a figurehead -- a proud but powerless ruler whom
we rally ‘round, pretending that we are still a nation, still a
people, not a ragged band of refugees driven from out homeland by
light-skinned cousins who could not stand to think we were related.
	He is not powerful. He is nothing.
	Thae’Lynn released the prince and tugged feverishly with her
fist, feeling the warm lubrication of her own saliva.
	He is nothing. I am powerful. I am the one. My enemies are all
dead, or soon will be, and my plan is already in motion.
	Not him. Not anyone.
	I am powerful. She swallowed the slick organ with deft,
experienced strokes. I am power.
	You will come for me, majesty. And you will know that I am
Mistress, now and forever.
	"Ohhhhhhh..." The moans rose in intensity.
	She released again and tugged with even greater enthusiasm. As
she did, she whispered hotly.
	"Come, my Prince. Come on me. Come in my face. Come on my
tongue. Come for your Duchess."
	"Oh, I’m com... coming..."
	"Yes, my Prince. I’m ready --"
	She was cut off by a gush of hot white semen that shot from
the Prince’s cock, splattering her face and lips. She sucked at his
glans, feeling more pump into her, filling her mouth. Thae’Lynn
swallowed, feeling for a moment the same excitement as she felt when
she made little Yawesha'ae scream in pain and ecstasy, or when one of
her male lovers finally gave her what she wanted, coming inside her or
splattering her with hot semen...
	This was no ogre, no minotaur, no leopard or other mindless
animal male, of course. This was his majesty, High Prince of the Dark
Elves, and his orgasm sealed his fate.
	Thae’Lynn released him and he collapsed, cock still twitching,
leaking a thin stream of come. She licked her fingers, then crawled
atop him, face still wet with the Prince’s semen.
	"Gods and daemons, your majesty," she whispered, looking down
on his exhausted, panting form. "Aren’t you glad that you made me
Protector?"
	"Oh, yes, dearest Thae’Lynn," he replied. "Very glad indeed."

Daedora
	White Lizard Crag stood, battered but as yet unbowed, under
the siege engines of Protector Thae’Lynn and High Prince Tyreth. Once
thought impregnable, the Crag was a solid massif crouched beneath the
sheer face of the Ice Daemon, a splintered, ugly mountain with peaks
as sharp as razors. A single iron gate granted entrance to the vast
palace and fortress, and this had never been breached by an enemy.
Smaller forts surrounded the main structure, and these bristled with
ferocious defenders, ready to sell their lives dearly. White Lizard
Crag stood alone, and though house Yth’ela remained defiant, most
wondered how much longer they would endure.
	On the rocky wastes below, a great army camped, the smoke from
its fires rising to the sky and joining overhead like a vast, dirty
shroud for House Yth’ela. The struggle continued night and day. Naked
slave infantry of a half dozen races, driven by whip-wielding
overseers, flung themselves at the Crag’s defenders, suicidally brave
in the knowledge that failure would bring worse and more painful death
than that waiting on the end of House Yth’ela’s spears. After the
slaves came mercenaries -- scarred veterans of a thousand battles, of
every imaginable race. Humans, jarreks, orcs, wolfen, dwarves,
goblins, even the odd Kaitian and Tandu, all advanced sternly, faces
grim and implacable, against a storm of arrows, sling bullets, magical
projectiles and other missiles, storming one small fortress after
another, pushing though splintered gates, scaling ladders or siege
towers, hacking with swords, pummeling with maces and clubs, stabbing
with daggers. Quarter was neither asked nor given, and as often as
not, the mercenaries were driven off with heavy losses, and another
fortress remained in Yth’ela’s hands. But each day, such victories
grew rarer, and after a month only a half-dozen forts continued to
hold out, and most of these were utterly cut off from the main
citadel. So far, the Dark Elven forces -- the infantry, lizard riders,
wizards, assassins and bat-cavalry of the Protector and the Prince,
had taken little part in the siege, preferring as always to let others
do the bulk of the fighting and dying.
	Looking down from the ramparts at the antlike activity below,
Daedora knew it was only a matter of time. A week, a month, a year,
what did it matter? House Nendotha had fallen, and with them, House
Yth’ela’s last allies. No one could save them now, with all the Dark
Elven houses united against them and the newly-appointed Protector
sworn to slay every defiant household and bathe in their blood.
Thae’Lynn seemed unstoppable now, her enemies destroyed, and the
Prince utterly in her thrall. It was an open secret that the two were
lovers, though most who knew Thae’Lynn wondered how she could stand
the touch of a male of her own species. Daedora mused that the Duchess
of Darkoak Hill was probably capable of enduring much worse in her
quest for ultimate power.
	Daedora’s heart went out to the family retainers who fought
below, desperate and doomed, as another wave of mercenaries surged
forward, screaming with bloodlust. They had doubtless spent the past
few hours drinking, whoring and inhaling dream smoke in anticipation
of this attack, and in a few moments she knew they would be swarming
all over the tiny outcropping where Fort Nyna still held out.
	She brushed away a tear. Her people weren’t supposed to feel
this way, to experience sorrow and pity, to mirror the pain of others.
Hers was a harsh, cruel people, given over only to self-gratification
and indulgence, driven by hatred and desire for vengeance against a
people and a world that rejected them, made them outcasts and called
them evil. If evil they were called, so the reasoning went, then evil
the Dark Elves would be.
	Who, Daedora wondered, made such a decision? Who decreed that
she was destined only for a life of self-serving pleasure and the
infliction of pain upon the innocent? Who but those like Thae’Lynn
N’Quy who saw the cosmos only in terms of how it served her? Who but
those that each day besieged Daedora’s home, pounding it to rubble,
intent only upon the painful extinction of all those within?
	Swallowing her fear and forcing back tears, Daedora looked
down, and was not for the first time, ashamed of what she was.
	"Lady! Look out!"  The voice cut through the air with the
swiftness and urgency of an arrow. Trained instincts took over, and in
an instant Daedora was sprawled upon the flagstones, feeling a cold
rush of wind and a tearing sensation as great talons grazed her back,
tearing fabric, but leaving her flesh untouched.
	She looked up. Swooping upward, frustrated in her first
attempt, was a thin Dark Elven woman mounted astride an enormous snowy
owl. An assassin of House Inytas! At last, now that Thae’Lynn’s
victory was assured, they had broken their neutrality and entered the
fray. Flying through the shadows on nearly silent wings, the
owl-riders were among the most fearsome of the dark elves’ aerial
troops.
	"Get inside, Lady!"  The voice came from a guardsman in house
colors, who hurried forward, spanned crossbow at the ready.  "I’ll
deal with this one!"
	"No!  Daedora shouted, clambering to her feet as the assassin
swung around for another run. Though her prey was alerted, the fierce
determination in the assassin’s pale eyes remained undimmed. It was
said that once a House Inytas killer marked a victim, only death could
stop them.
	Daedora fumbled at her belt, seeking her firewand. It was
gone, knocked loose when she fell. Desperately, as the white-feathered
monster descended with sickening speed, Daedora cast about for the
lost wand.
	"Yth’ela!"  shouted the guardsman, discharging the crossbow.
"Long Live Duchess Shadera!"
	The bolt flew true, striking the assassin in the shoulder. She
cried out, and the owl dipped slightly, but then came on again. The
assassin’s cry of pain transformed into a scream of rage, and then she
was on the guardsman, the owl’s talon’s stabbing. The assassin rushed
upward once more, leaving a sundered corpse in pieces behind, blood
staining the flagstones.
	Rage surged through Daedora, and she glared at the flyer with
fierce hatred. The defiant cry of her guardsman still rang in her ears
as her hand found the fallen wand, and she leaped to her feet,
shouting her own battle cry.
	"Death to Thae’Lynn! Death to the Tyrant!"
	The owl descended once more, and the assassin’s face contorted
into a sadistic grin.
	It evaporated a moment later when Daedora spoke a magical
password and the wand belched forth a torrent of purple flames. The
owl and its rider were enveloped, both screaming horribly, and the
entire flaming mass dropped suddenly, crashing into the wall beneath
Daedora’s feet, then tumbling down and down toward the battlefield
below.
	She looked up, struggling to catch her breath and still her
racing heart. More sky riders soared overhead -- owls, bats, lizards.
With the last of the forts now lost or completely cut off, N’Quy’s
final assault could begin. Hastily, Daedora turned and ran back for
the relative safety of the inner fortress.
	What was that N’Quy bitch doing now in her command tent, so
far away, Daedora wondered?

[end of part 2]


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