The Wildbound Wardens

Prologue

The docks of Kassivir were blanketed in thick fog. A person standing on the gray stone wall overlooking the harbor could see gray water fade into gray fog and fade further into a gray sky. Turning around, that person would see more gray walls and gray houses and gray streets extending throughout the drab coastal city of Kassivir. Should that person turn once more toward the docks, perhaps to the office of the dockmaster, they would be treated with the first interesting sight of the gray morning.

Dockmaster Rodan, a gray haired, broad-built man of the sea with more than a little orcish blood running through his veins, sat in his chair in front of the wide windows that commanded a view of the whole harbor. On top of Rodan sat a buxom young woman named Zaryssi who was currently riding the old man with great vigor. She was a frequent visitor to the dockmaster's office on slow sea days such as this. He was one of her most reliable and most regular customers.

Her tanned legs were wrapped around him, with her bare feet braced against the base of his chair to help propel herself up and down on his cock. She wore a simple dress; its skirt splayed out overtop of Rodan. The bodice had come unlaced, though, and her large, round, exposed breasts were bouncing freely up and down. Her curly brown hair likewise bounced in time with her movements. Rodan's hands gripped her around her waist and assisted in her gyrations.

"Aye, that's it, girl." He growled as she increased her pace.

"Does my pussy feel good?" Zaryssi asked.

He grunted in affirmation and moved his hands down to squeeze her plump ass. He squeezed her through the skirt's faded fabric. His fingers sank deep into her soft fleshy cheeks. He pulled her tighter onto his cock. Her experienced pussy swallowed his girth expertly. He slid in and out of her and each pump sent her tits flying again. She grinned down at the older man beneath her.

The curvy prostitute didn't find Rodan particularly handsome, with his orcish tusks and his brutish features, but she enjoyed him much more than many of her other clients. He fucked well and he treated her kindly. Sometimes he gave her gifts that came from exotic ports; the silver necklace she wore was a gift from Rodan. She enjoyed her time spent in his service, and was well compensated for it. In turn, she occasionally treated him to special services.

"Do you like my ass?" She asked him.

"It's a great fucking ass." He replied.

"Do you want to fuck my ass?" She asked.

He nodded vigorously. Her pussy clamped down tight on his member, as if massaging him with her insides. He moaned.

"Do you really, really want to?" She asked, pressing harder against him and thrusting her chest forward.

"Yes," he said through the pleasure, "I want to fuck your ass."

She promptly dismounted him. Her skirt fell back in place around her shapely legs. She bent over the desk, waggling her bum teasingly and looking back over her shoulder at Rodan. She smiled at him with taunting eyes.

He leapt to his feet and approached her, letting his cock lead the charge. His hands found their way back to her round ass for several squeezes and slaps before he hoisted her dress up over her legs, bunching it up at her lower back so her beautiful butt and legs were free.

Zaryssi spat into her hand and rubbed it over the head of his cock. She guided him to the entrance into her tight hole. The tip of his rod pushed slowly between her cheeks, spreading her wide. He felt his tip squeezed so tightly as he entered her. He groaned with pleasure at the sensation. Zaryssi gripped the desk to steady herself as he eased slowly in. His thick green cock pressed deeper into her. A less talented woman would struggle to take a cock like this in their ass. Fortunately Zaryssi was quite talented.

Rodan pressed completely into Zaryssi. He took a moment to enjoy the experience. This sexy woman was bent over his desk, impaled on his rod, and the whole wide sea lay out before them. There was little more a man could ask for. He reached under her and grabbed her heavy breasts. Her tits filled his hands, and then some; they truly were grand.

She leaned her weight on one elbow and slipped her other hand down between her legs. Her fingers began rubbing her clit in tight, rapid circles. She let out a small gasp of air as Rodan pulled his cock part way out of her, and then pushed it back in. He slowly pumped in and out, allowing her to grow accustomed to his girth. She continued to rub her clit faster and faster.

Rodan increased his pace. Her tight hole felt so fucking good around his throbbing cock. He remorsefully abandoned her breasts and migrated his hands back to her hips. He gripped her firmly and began fucking her in earnest. She moaned louder and louder as he rammed his cock in and out of her ass. Her fingers vibrated in a blurred frenzy between her legs.

Rodan felt the pressure build up in his balls; he would climax soon. He also noticed the prow of a large galleon poking through the fog at the entry to the harbor. Odd, there were no dockings scheduled for another few hours. He would have to finish up here and investigate.

He increased his pace, fucking harder down into his woman. He slapped her ass again and rammed his cock deep into her. Her legs wobbled and collapsed slightly as the intensified fucking made her climax. She shook and mumbled incoherently, and her wet hand came out from between her legs to help support her. Rodan held her up by her hips and he lost the ability to think for a few seconds as his own orgasm swept over him.

He shot his load straight into her ass, the gooey cum coating her insides and allowing his cock to slide even faster in and out of her. He squeezed her hips and grunted as he blasted burst after burst of his semen into her. His own legs lost some of their strength and he fell down in top of her, catching himself on the desk. They both panted as the last waves of ecstasy passed over them.

Rodan looked up, back out over the harbor, and was rudely jolted back to reality. The Large ship has fully emerged from the fog, and its black flag waved boldly against the gray sky.

"Fucking hell!" Rodan exclaimed.

He pulled out of Zaryssi's ass.

"I know baby, that was so good." Zaryssi said, her face still pressed against the cool desk.

"Not that, girl. There are bloody pirates in the harbor!" He replied as he hastily pulled on his pants.

She looked out the window and screamed at the sight of the big dangerous ship barreling toward them. Rodan ran out to the raised deck running alongside his office where a large bell hung. He yanked frantically on the cable attached to the bell and a sharp clear tone rang out through the harbor. Again and again the alarm bell sang out, and soon other bells atop the wall joined in the harmony.

Zaryssi ran out to Rodan. She lifted the top of her dress back up to cover her tits and hastily laced it. She ran trembling to Rodan, pressing into the security of his chest.

The pirate ship was still some distance out, but it was approaching fast. It didn't seem to slow at all as it came nearer to the docks.

"What the bloody hell are they playing at?" Rodan wondered aloud. "They're going to crash into the dock!"

As if in response to his statement, the movement of the ship changed. It didn't seem to slow, however.

It rose.

Rodan and Zaryssi watched with lowering jaws as the massive ship floated out of the water and into the air. It rose over the docks and continued its path straight forward. Hundreds of gallons of sea water rained off of the ship. It passed over the heads of the two onlookers, dousing them with sea spray. They turned to watch its progress as it flew over the wall and out over the city. Screams arose in the distance, marking the path of the flying pirate ship. It eventually faded into the distance, leaving gray Kassivir behind.

Rodan, his heart still beating rapidly, looked down at Zaryssi. She was as shocked and confused as he was. She looked back up at him. Their eyes met and a feeling of relief passed between them. Rodan couldn't help but laugh as his body dealt with the shock. Zaryssi began to giggle as well. The dockmaster and the prostitute stood there on the deck, wet and half naked, laughing in the gray harbor.

They were relieved that Kassivir was ignored by the magical flying pirate ship, but they worried for whatever poor souls waited at the ship's true destination.

-- -- --

Daemon the half-elf felt a surge of excitement as he looked again at the map. The map was changing. He was sure of it now. The center of the map still seemed to correspond with his exact location. When he had opened the map the first time, it had only shown the most western corner of Myrrowfen, the nearest town to Riverton. Now, since they had traveled for two days toward Myrrowfen, the map had changed to show their current surroundings. Most of Myrrowfen was visible, while Riverton had nearly faded off the map.

The red line remained on the map, passing in a slight zigzag through the streets of Myrrowfen and continuing still off the edge of the map. Daemon wondered what he might find should he pursue the red line to It's ultimate destination. Thoughts of treasure and tombs and adventure beyond small scale mercenary work flowed through his mind. He turned the map and examined the foreign text on it again. He still did not know even what language it was written in. He ran his thumb across the symbol at the bottom: a ring with a crescent Moon at its top and an eye at its base. So familiar.

It pulled muddied memories to Daemon's mind. Memories of his brief time in the Mages Academy, before he had discovered his aptitude leaned far more toward the excitement of swordplay and combat than to the stuffy and meticulous arcane arts. He could not recall the exact source of the symbol, but he grew more certain that he had seen it at the academy.

Daemon leaned back against the oak tree he sat against. He looked back toward the road, where the merchant wagons he and his friends were escorting had stopped for a midday rest. The horses drank at a nearby stream and the merchants themselves either ate or napped in the last warm sun of the season.

Daemon's own companions were intermixed with the other travelers. Thrak, the enormous bearded warrior, was playing a game of dragon chess with a grey haired man. Thrak seemed to be losing badly.

Siarra cut a sharp silhouette with her curvy figure and her spiraling horns. She was deep in conversation with Dorius Silva, the most prominent of Riverton's traders, and the person paying the Wildbound Wardens for their protection. She laughed in response to something he said and she placed her hand on his arm. Her tail flicked flirtatiously. Daemon smiled slightly; Siarra was employing her limitless supply of charm against the man. It was almost a certainty that Silva would end up paying more gold than he had agreed to for their services; Siarra had a way of influencing people to give her what she wanted.

Morgan was not to be seen. She was likely off scouting or hunting. She preferred to keep distance between herself and the merchants. Some of them were still ill at ease with a dark elf in their traveling party.

Daemon turned toward footsteps approaching from the woods and saw his last companion, Fifi, walking toward him. Her big blue eyes smiled joyfully and her wavy blonde hair shine bright in the midday sun. Her hands were full with a large basket of foraged berries and medicinal plants.

"Hi Daemon!" She said cheerily.

Her arms were pulled together by the weight of the basket, resulting in her enormous breasts pressing against each other to form some of the deepest cleavage imaginable. She set the basket down and sat next to Daemon, her shoulder pressed against his arm.

"Did you find anything interesting?" Daemon asked.

"Lots." Fifi replied. She pulled out the various plants in her basket and explained their medicinal uses to Daemon.

There were berries, leaves, roots, and mushrooms, each with their own useful properties. Fifi finished with three bundles wrapped carefully in cloth.

"These are super special," she began. "These are rare fungal caps blessed by the goddess. We call them Madcaps. Their spores have a powerful aphrodisiacal effect on anyone who breaths them in. They can be diluted to create a variety of useful potions."

"Why dilute them?" Daemon asked.

Fifi giggled. She tucked the bundles carefully into a separate pouch on her belt.

"The raw effects are way too potent. One time, when I was an acolyte, Priest Garmolok led a group of ten of us girls into the woods to teach us about medicinal plants, and my friend Ana accidentally stepped on one of the caps. The spores shot everywhere and we all breathed them in."

"Six hours later a search party found us all mad with lust in an orgy, with priest Garmolok nearly on the verge of collapse from exhaustion, having given his love to almost every one of us. They had to lock us in a chamber in the temple for three days before the effect wore off."

Daemon pictured the scene. He knew how wild Fifi could be in the throes of passion; it was an arousing and frightening thought to imagine ten priestesses of the love goddess driven to extreme lust.

"There's no remedy for it then? They just had to lock you away?" Daemon asked.

"Oh, there are several remedies, but it was a chance for us to worship the goddess with our bodies, and the elders allowed us to experience it. Some of them joined in, actually." Fifi replied.

"Your education was quite different to mine." Daemon said, thinking once more back to his time at the stuffy academy. "Speaking of education, do you recall ever seeing this symbol or this language in your studies?"

He held the back of the map over to show her the symbol and the writing. She examined it closely for a few minutes.

"Hmm..." she finally said, "I don't recognize the symbol, and I can't read this language, but I believe it is written in the Primordial tongue."

Daemon looked again at the writing, incorporating this new theory into his understanding of the enchanted map.

"ROOOOOAAAAAAARRRR!"

A menacing cry jolted the two wardens out of their discussion. Daemon dropped the map and felt his sword materialize in his hand. He scanned the area for the source of the noise. It was easy to find. Several ogres were charging toward the caravan from the opposite side of the road. They were huge, ugly greenish brutes with large bodies, ragged loincloths, and huge simple clubs made from tree trunks. Their limbs were long and heavily muscled, topped with thick hands and feet. Daemon saw at least three, but he suspected more. The merchants scurried for cover, and the Wildbound Wardens readied themselves for battle. Siarra summoned her quasit companion. Thrak threw the dragon chess board onto the ground and gave a raging battle cry to greet the onrushing ogres. Daemon hoped Morgan was nearby and heard the ambush.

Daemon ran back toward the caravan with Fifi right behind him. They left the map and the basket sitting by the tree. The ogres were nearly upon the wagons, and Daemon was still a few seconds away. Fifi chanted an incantation and a bolt of light shot from her fingertips. It hit the first ogre squarely in the chest as he crested the road. The light burned his bare chest and left a faint light around him, which faded as soon as Thrak smashed a heavy rock over the ogre's broad back. The ogre turned angrily toward Thrak, glaring down at the raging warrior. It was rare for Thrak, the tall, hulking man, to have to look up at an opponent. He grinned with primal glee to have such a large enemy to test his strength against.

Siarra climbed up to a high perch and began blasting the other ogres with bolts of concussive magical energy. The bolts seemed only to anger the thick-skinned ogres. One picked up a boulder and hurled it at Siarra. She blasted the flying rock with a beam of magic that sent the boulder raining down to the ground in shards.

Daemon finally reached the road, just as another ogre arrived to greet him. Daemon dodged a swing of the ogre's heavy club and returned with a swing of his sword. He fueled his limited magic into the swing, sending cackling, thunderous energy through the blade. This was one of the few useful spells he had retained from his brief education. As the sword cut into the ogre, the magical spell energy leapt from the blade and spiraled around the ogre, creating an arcane boundary around his hulking body. Daemon spun out of range of the ogre's weapon and readied himself for the next strike. The ogre stepped toward Daemon, passing through the spell's boundary and triggering a blast of magical thunder that made the ogre double over in agony as he grasped at his ears. Daemon took the opportunity to slash at his foe twice more. The ogre recovered and advanced on him with fury.

Siarra turned her attention toward the ogre Daemon was fighting. One on one, it would be difficult to dispatch the attackers. If they took the ogres out one at a time and thinned the numbers, the rest might flee. Siarra counted at least four of the monsters. She pelted the ogre with magical blasts. Fifi followed suit, conjuring a magical battle axe with curving double blades tapered down in the shape of a heart. The axe glowed golden with divine light and hovered in the air under its own power. It charged the same ogre and hacked away at it, lunging in whenever Daemon's furious strikes allowed space. It didn't take them long to bring the ogre crashing down.

"That one next!" Siarra shouted to the others, pointing to a large female ogre that had cornered a frightened merchant against a wagon.

Fifi's axe flew ahead and struck at the ogre, nearly severing one of her meaty hands. The ogre roared in pain and turned to swing at Daemon as he approached. She raised her club to strike. Daemon heard several whooshing sounds as three daggers spun over his head and embedded themselves in the ogre's chest. Daemon felt relieved, knowing Morgan had joined the fray. He dodged to the side as the ogre brought her club down.

Siarra blasted the female ogre repeatedly, drawing her attention. The ogre threw Daemon to the ground and started toward Siarra. Morgan the dark elf, perched stealthily in a tree nearby, sent dagger after dagger flying through the air into the ogre's body, slowing her down.

Thrak was still engaged in his own private battle with the first ogre. At the moment, he had the great brute in a fierce headlock, though blood oozed from a wound on his own head. The ogre pummeled and clawed at Thrak, but his motions began to slow as Thrak squeezed the consciousness out of him.

The fourth ogre began to charge toward Siarra. He had nearly reached her when the little horned quasit leapt onto his face and nearly frightened the rampaging ogre out of his loincloth. The ogre danced frantically about before cracking his head against a broad oak tree. The quasit leapt free. The ogre, dazed and dizzy, zigzagged back toward the melee.

Daemon returned to his feet and heard a sharp scream.

Down at the far end of the caravan, a fifth ogre had grabbed a young woman, a teenage daughter of one of the Rivertonian traders, from one of the wagons. She was kicking and screaming as he hoisted her into the air and retreated, running back into the woods.

Daemon began to charge after them, before hesitating and looking back to his friends. Thrak had bested his opponent, leaving two ogres left standing in rough condition.

"Get the girl! We can finish them here!" Siarra called out before returning her focus to her spell blasts.

Fifi leapt atop one of the horses and urged it after the fleeing ogre. She held out her hand to Daemon as she passed, and swung him up onto the horse behind her. The two of them charged into the woods, following the obvious trail of broken tree limbs the ogre had left behind. On foot, the ogre was nearly faster than the horse. They followed his trail to a hilly, dense portion of the forest. His tracks led to a dark cave.