Worlds Apart Read online

  She stared in wonder. She rubbed her wrist reflectively. “How did you do that?” she demanded.

  “It’s a simple rune,” he said.

  “Rune?”

  “Magic. Where I come from.” Felix hooked the manacle on his belt – never knew when you needed something, he thought – then looked about the forest. “We should leave. I assume night comes eventually here and I would prefer not to be around these bodies when it does.”

  The sorceress snapped back to attention and nodded. “Oh, yes. Solita, the merchant waypost, isn’t far. We’ll find a place to stay there.”

  Felix climbed aboard the now abandoned cart, helping Auria up before taking the reins in hand. Happy to depart the smell of death and blood, the horse trotted off, leaving the bodies of the bandits and slaver to the scavengers.

  Caves and Concussions

  Tiberius groaned and rolled over. Darkness surrounded him. Ah, darkness. He was familiar with darkness. It was his trade. No one would listen to a man like him if he didn’t use darkness. Try and command people to sacrifice a princess on a sunny day and see what happened.

  “I’m rambling,” he muttered. His voice echoed back at him. Ah, a cave, he thought. He was also accustomed to caves. He did some of his best work in them. Of course, usually they were lit with the hellish glow of magma and had a more compelling aspect to them. Putting his hand beneath him, he forced himself onto his knees, then his feet.

  “Fuck!”

  He grabbed his throbbing head and groped above, locating the surprisingly low ceiling. The marks which twisted across his skin had begun to glow, and by their red light he made out the rough walls of the cave around him. He also made out the fact he was naked.

  Five minutes were spent raging at the unfairness of life. Then, as he calmed, Tiberius sat back, took a deep breath, and let it out through gritted teeth. “Tiberius,” he said. “You’re having a difficult day.” As he took a moment, he became aware of the kiss of a breeze. He raised his head and looked down the sole path available in the rocky tunnel. “Hm,” he muttered, shrugged, and started to crawl. The roughhewn floor began to climb, and to his relief a light gleamed ahead. He grinned, hastened forward, climbing out and into the day.

  He slowly straightened, wincing as muscles knotted by his scramble through the dark creaked and protested with stinging aches. Standing at his full height, he took in the landscape all around him. Daggered black peaks rose from sudden hills and dipping valleys. The wind cut itself to a howl on the mountains. A barren, rigid land.

  The sorcerer frowned. “Where the fuck am I?”

  “Humie!”

  “Eh?”

  Tiberius turned and saw a club whistling for his head. There was pain, and darkness rushed in once more.

  Solita Nights

  Night had begun to fall before they made out the lights of Solita. The village spun out from a central square, a tall palisade all around the few buildings. Felix let Auria speak to the watchmen, noting the men’s obvious eagerness to allow them through. They rolled into town just as the gates were shut behind them. Guards lit torches along the walls, illuminating the darkness which fell heavily across the town.

  “Here,” she said.

  Felix turned the carriage into an inn. A crude, heavy building peopled with a number of other carts already parked. Hopping down, he gave the stable boy a few coins he’d taken off the bandits, then followed Auria inside. It was only when he entered that Felix started to feel somewhat more at home. The sound and smell were like tavern’s all across the world. Merchants in fine cloth spoke animatedly while mercenary guards drank their pay away. Barmaids navigating the islands of tables dodged groping hands.

  Auria strode inside without a glimpse of hesitation, making her way to the tavern keeper. She spoke some words with him before returning shortly, smiling contentedly.

  “I managed to get us a room,” she said.

  “Only one?”

  “All the others were taken,” she said serenely as she took his hand, pulling him towards the stairs. Uncertain, but not knowing what else to do, Felix followed her up the steps and into a spacious room.

  “There’s one bed,” Felix noted.

  “A problem?” Auria said sweetly.

  “No,” the knight said. “I suppose I can take the floor if that’s…”

  He trailed off, finally paying attention to the shapely magus. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she had shed the filmy cloth which had once garbed her. Her body was firm and shapely, her violet breasts held in a skimpy bra, black aerola just visible through the lacy fabric. Her thighs were sharply defined by a hard V of underwear with only enough fabric to actually cover her quim.

  “Um,” Felix said.

  “Never been with an elf before?” she said, rising leisurely and sauntering towards him.

  “I can honestly say not,” he said.

  She hummed, lips quirked in amusement as she touched his jacket. “We’re more… liberated then other races. Our women are rather more robust than our men, for one. And we are not afraid of showing our attraction. Or,” she said, pulling aside his stolen jacket, baring his broad chest. “Our passions.”

  “What do you oh!” he gasped as she licked his chest, her tongue lingering on his nipple. He took a deep breath, inhaling the thick scent of her lilac perfume. “That’s… there isn’t a…a need for that. I would gladly have…”

  She glanced up, pausing. Gazing deep into his eyes. “You really would,” she said thoughtfully. She leaned against him, pressing her breasts against his chest, her fingers toying with the belt holding up his pants. “How curious…”

  Felix gave her a puzzled look, then gasped as she unlaced his pants. “Oh,” he groaned as she cupped his groin, her fingers sliding along the soft orbs of his balls.

  “I’ve been looking forward to seeing this since you put on those wretched clothes,” she said as she ran her free hand up his side, feeling the hard contours of his muscular frame. “Such a shame you had to dress to enter town.” Her arm reached his neck and pulled her closer. He groaned as her hand moved from his balls to his cock, slowly stroking him.

  “Miss,” Felix gasped, grasping her shoulders. “I don’t…”

  “I want this,” she said. “Come on then. Take me.”

  Felix tried to resist, but at the feel of the violet skinned seductress pressing against him, her fingers wrapped around his length, he groaned, “Blast it!” and grabbed her, throwing her onto the bed.

  Auria gasped as she bounced atop the mattress, but moaned happily as climbed atop her, his lips meeting hers in a hungry kiss. She moved against him, pressing herself to his crotch. Her hands wandered across his broad chest and chiselled form. Felix groaned, feeling her heat through the scanty cloth which covered her mons. “Fuck me,” the elf breathed. “Take me.”

  He reached down, grasping her underwear and pulled it aside. With expert ease she kicked the clinging fabric away and parted her legs, baring the shaved furrow of her cunt.

  Grabbing her hip, Felix aligned himself and pushed inside of her.

  “Ahhh,” she gasped, arching as he fed his cock into her greedy cunt. “Yes,” she moaned. “Ah…”

  “Oh hells,” Felix groaned. His fingers dug into her hip as he hungrily kissed her, thrusting eagerly into her. She moaned, undulating beneath him, meeting his thrusts with skillful rolls of her hips.

  Felix released her hip, grabbing her bra and pulling down, baring the firm orb of her teat. Breaking their kiss he latched onto a dark nipple.

  “Ah!” Auria bucked, pulling him against the violet skin of her breast. “Yes. Yes! Oh f-fuck!”

  Felix released her hard nub of a nipple. “C-close.”

  “Yes,” she moaned. “Cum. Cum in me!”

  With a groan Felix thrust a last time, filling her as deep as he could go before he came. Auria cried out, clutching him to her as his hot seed filled her. Her inner walls squeezed him as she came with him, their orgasms mingling, their gasps echoing through
the darkness.

  Panting, Felix pulled out of her, only for Auria to tighten her hold. “Where do you think you’re going?” the magus said, her silver hair tumbled about her face, obscuring one eye. But the other still glowed with the heat of lust, and her dark lips were curled playfully.

  “I…I did just cum,” Felix said.

  She chuckled, stroking his chest. “Mmm. You may have been with women before, sir knight. But certainly not with an elf.”

  She rolled them over, Felix falling onto the mattress with a grunt. Auria swayed above him, slinking down his body, her silver hair dragging down his chest, her eyes gleaming with amusement. She reached his groin. She hummed. A thick, purring sound as she ran her tongue from balls to the tip of his cock.

  Felix groaned, throwing back his head. “G-gods above!”

  “Spellcraft gives such…dexterity to the tongue,” she said, her long fingers easing around his stiffening shaft as she gave it another artful lick. “Don’t you agree?”

  “I… must say so,” Felix gasped. “Oh gods!” he groaned as she suddenly engulfed him in her hot mouth, bobbing atop his cock with a swift, eager pace. He grabbed the sheets, twisting them in his grasp as she took him, drawing him back to full hardness.

  But, on the verge of his climax, she released him, drawing back with a gasp and leaving his shaft twitching in the air. “Now,” the seductive magus breathed, climbing onto his lap and positioning herself above him. “My turn.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Felix said breathlessly.

  Auria betrayed a twitch of a smile, then lowered himself onto him. She sighed, breath hitching as she took his cock, filling her with his turgid shaft once more. She settled atop him, grinding her groin against his. “Ohhhh,” she moaned. “Yes!”

  Felix grunted, resting his hands on her wide hips as she began to ride him, bouncing atop his cock. “Yes! Yes!” she gasped. “Fuck me! Fill me again!”

  With an eagerness he didn’t know he had the knight twitched his hips, thrusting into her. He grabbed her bouncing breasts, mauling the firm flesh, twisting her hard, dark nipples. She gasped. “Ah! Yes! There! Like that! Harder!”

  Spurred on Felix twitched and twisted the nubs of flesh, palms hefting her shaking breasts as she bounced atop him.

  “Nnn! Yes! Ah! Ahh!” She shuddered, her orgasm bursting through her, her juices soaking his cock and lap. She moaned with delight, slowing for a moment as she looked down on him.

  “Did…did you cum?”

  “Not… quite yet,” he managed.

  “Oh, well,” she said, giving him a sultry smile, rolling her hips again. “We can’t have that. I do have my pride, you know. And I certainly can’t leave you… unsatisfied.”

  She leaned down atop him, kissing him passionately. His arms wrapped around her, tightening as she began to roll her groin against him, grinding against his hardness.

  The night would be long, but Felix would hardly find her unsatisfying.

  Informed

  Vilch walked out of the night and into the tower. The guards dicing in the light of a torch spared him a nod. He gave one back, and pushed inside.

  Light rippled across the walls. Flickered like water across rotted tapestries and chests spilling their fortune onto the floor. Rubies flashing like fire. Diamonds gleaming like stars. And gold. So much gold.

  Threads of light spun from the peak of the tower. Blue and violet. Red and gold, they twisted down and into a crimson jewel suspended over a basin. Magic bled into the stone bowl, raising a steam.

  A man stood before the waters. Clad in a ragged diamond checkered cloak and a cocked hat, two belts would cross his chest, another around his waist holding a sword. His back was to Vilch, who paused and watched the man dip a gloved hand into the basin. The man lifted his hand, watching raw magic pour through his fingers.

  Silently as he could, Vilch stepped nearer.

  “Yes, Vilch?”

  Vilch froze. Grinned. But of course Wraith would know he was there. Some said the man had been a Night Blade. He wouldn’t be surprised. “Tommen’s come back, Wraith.”

  Wraith flicked the mana from his fingers. A few drops hit the floor, sparking. “Did he bring the mage?”

  The bandit shook his head. “Nah. Brought back some full drawers but no woman, elf or otherwise.”

  Wraith said nothing. He merely gazed deep into the shimmering waters. “Bring him.”

  Vilch left, returning a moment later with Tommen. He shoved the fat bandit into the room, Tommen stumbling before managing to right himself hastily. Wraith turned. The pudgy bandit shrank back from the diamond patterned mask which covered the bandit king’s face leaving only a pair of slits for his emerald eyes.

  “Explain.”

  Tommen stammered. Vilch slapped the back of the fat man’s head. “Talk ya little shit!”

  Tommen did. After a few minutes of desperate babbling Wraith held up his hand. Tommen shut his mouth so fast his teeth clicked.

  “So you found her. Then a naked man came out of the woods and killed everyone but you?”

  Tommen flushed. “W-well, when you put it like that…”

  Wraith simply looked at him, fingering his sword. Tommen stopped talking. Feeling something was needed, Vilch slapped the back of Tommen’s head again.

  “They’ll have gone to Solita,” Wraith said softly. Never raising his voice. Never needing to, his every word engraving itself on the minds of the men before him. He glanced at them. “Do we still have contacts among the guards?”

  Vilch nodded. “Aye.” He cracked his knuckles. “Want me to bust some heads?”

  “Yes,” Wraith said softly. “Get it done. But bring me the mage.”

  “Alive?”

  “Preferably. If not, the head will do. Try not to ‘bust’ it too badly”

  The Warlord

  The bonfire burned luridly in the middle of the massive tent. Before it women – elves and humans, all fair, all garbed in nothing but sheer silks – danced. Golden studs pierced nipples dark and pink. Scarlet paint marked flesh pale and violet, their shadows flickering against the hide walls of the massive tent as they swayed. Drums beat out beneath the hands of brutish warriors, the thudding cadence vibrating through the air. Air thick with the lust of the orcish host.

  Crouched behind tables, their eyes glowing in the dark, the warriors of the Iron Tooth clan watched hungrily the fair shapes of the dancers. How their quivering breasts thrust out, their lips parted in gasps, the silks whisking between their thighs, the soft globes of their rears stark with the brands of their master.

  Socretha watched the display with the barest interest. Though she could feel the thrum of the drums beating through her, and her breath deepened at the sight of the conquered women writhing to the savage song, she controlled herself. Half a head smaller and half again as wide as the males around her, she nevertheless commanded presence. Her head was half shaved in the style of the raiding bands. Patchwork armour garbed her along with furs, leaving much of her muscular green hide on full display. The scar from a Watchtower ranger’s sword ran down over an eye in a paler green. There were many females about the tables. Come with her to the call of the bands of the Iron Tooth clan.

  Beside her, Morgoroth sat. The immense chief reclined on a throne of bone and tusk, draped with the hides of sabercats. His lap was filled with his favorite slaves: two of the most beautiful of the women, their soft, curvy forms pressed against his chest, purring with desire. One picked a berry from a bowl and popped it into his waiting mouth, their manacles of cold iron clanking.

  Socretha watched him with loathing. Once, he had been an impressive warrior. Once, Morgoroth had commanded respect. But that was before he had taken tasks from the satrap of the Slaver Bay. Before he had grown soft with good living, fed from the coffers of the humans and bribed with slaves to stay his raiding bands. It had been years since he had ridden a worg, even as he volunteered his warriors for the satrap’s armies.

  “Are you enjoying the
show, Socretha?” the massive orc asked, grinning toothily as he nodded at the women writhing before the flames. “They are good, are they not? My trainers have taught them well.”

  “They dance well,” she said stiffly.

  Morgoroth glanced at her. Then back to the dancers, grasping the rump of the two women in his lap. “And, have you considered my proposition?”

  “The honour of carrying my chieftain’s child is a great one,” she said carefully, turning her flinty eyes onto the immense male. “But I am needed among the bands. To lead our warriors to battle. Who else,” she said sharply. “Can take them past the Watchtowers of the southerners, that hold us in these barren peaks?”

  Morgoroth bared his teeth at the jab. “It is not time to lead our warriors to battle,” he said firmly. “Not when other clans covet our lands.”

  “Then a warrior I must stay,” Socretha said. “One must.”

  Morgoroth twisted to face her, hard eyes staring down at her. Though some of his muscle had gone to paunch, there was a reason the massive orc beside her still ruled the clan. Will he challenge me, she wondered, raising her head and meeting his eyes. Claim her like a southerner slave so she would have no choice but to carry his spawn? She sneered. She would die first. Die before she yielded to the orc beside her. For though Morgoroth was without physical peer, she knew that he hadn’t the will to bring them glory.

  The world shrank to between them. The air electric with tension. The drums hammered around them.

  Beating.

  Booming.

  Stopped.

  Silence fell as if in the wake of a thunderclap. Only the crackle of the flames and gasps of the frozen dancers could be heard. At last, Morgoroth scoffed, turning aside and to the floor. Socretha smiled with grim contempt as he gestured, dismissing the panting women.

  “My fellow orcs!” the orc warlord cried, his voice booming in the hide walls. “It is good to see you all among us once more! We have much to be proud for. There is game aplenty and women for our warriors. The orcs of the Iron Tooth are mightiest among the hills and the other clans fear the sound of our names!”