In the Name of Peace Ch. 02

Welcome back, folks!

Picking up immediately where we left off, we reach the first of the three days of the Hunter's Moon.

We get some different perspectives this time around. And things take a buck wild turn, even wilder than last time.

Let me know your thoughts in the comments below, and if there's any feedback or suggestions feel free to send them my way!

Astrid and Milius watched the break of day together.

Standing guard on a walkway outside of Queen Kierra's chambers, they gazed as the mountain pass surrounding Azral's keep grew slightly less dim than before. It wasn't enough to be called daylight, more a pale ghost of the real thing.

"You think she's awake by now?" Astrid muttered.

Milius shrugged. "It's difficult to say. She has a great deal on her shoulders, and the Overlord's apparent fondness for tricks couldn't have helped."

The human raised his head, sneering down at the multitude of houses and forts surrounding the Lake of Fire.

"If I'm being completely honest, I think we should have left by now. To hell with this 'harvest' and 'fertility' nonsense."

Astrid sighed, having guessed as much. "What would you have Her Majesty do, sir? If our treaty with the orcs dictates she honor their holidays, festivals, anything of the sort, then she is bound by duty to do just that."

Pointing inside she asked, "Would you not expect the same of the Overlord and his retinue? If Queen Kierra was to invite Azral to the capital, Sylvan's End..."

A derisive snort cut her off.

"If Queen Kierra was to invitehim," Astrid repeated as she grit her teeth, "would you not expect him to abide by our customs?"

Milius's silence told her all she needed to know.

"Right," she pronounced in as chipper a tone as she could.

"So the banquet should be started in little less than an hour. I'm sure Her Majesty will be on her way soon. She tends to be the punctual sort."

Despite Milius's perpetual malcontent, Astrid found herself smiling at the thought of entering the feasting hall and sitting beside the orcish lords. It was the first time she would accompany her captain, and the queen, to such a momentous event.

She wondered who else would sit with them. Perhaps one of the Firespeakers, a clergy who harnessed the power of the volcanic landscape in service to the primordial Kossuth.

Or, Astrid thought as her smile widened, that intriguing Captain Torin of the Swords of Azral would join them. Astrid had yet to get a good look as his face yesterday, and if she was to spend three whole days here that was going to change.

But as she and her captain started for the stairwell which would lead them to the banquet, she saw Milius stop short.

"What?"

Milius's gaze hardened further. Dead ahead were two young orcs, both armed and armored, were making their rounds. They reached the top of the stairs and stood directly opposite their Arcadian guests. They'd looked to be deep in conversation but the moment they laid eyes on the human and drow they fell dead quiet.

Astrid grimaced at the sight of Milius eying the taller orc. He stood upright, a hand on the hilt of his sword. It looked like the orc was doing the same, and after a moment Astrid saw they were even puffing their chests.

"Oh, for the love of..."

Astrid suppressed a loud grown and strolled on ahead. She planted her feet before the pair of orcs and bowed her head briefly, even clasping her hands behind her back.

"Gentlemen," she stated, "my captain and I are Queen Kierra's sworn guard. We're expected at the feasting hall soon. As your Overlord has treated us to his sacred hospitality, I humbly ask that you let us pass."

The shorter orc, a clean-shaven youth with pronounced lower canine teeth, gave her an curious look. His bulkier, bearded compatriot turned to him said something Astrid couldn't quite make out. Whatever it was, it drew a snicker from them both.

Before she could find out, they parted.

Astrid turned over her shoulder, looking back at her superior officer who was watching with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

"Well, come on."

Astrid smiled appreciatively at the two soldiers. "Thank you."

Both smiled back in a manner that caused a tingle to crawl up the back of Astrid's neck.

Of course, she thought. Of all the reasons for them to step aside, it had to be that.

Though, as Astrid regarded each man's angular features and powerful bodies, she couldn't say she wasn't just a little flattered.

She moved along, treating them with a slight sway in her hips while she walked away. All the while, she repeated to herself the words her mother used to great every morning.

'A new day, child.

See that you make it a good one.'

Astrid clutched the hilt of her longsword.

"I'm trying, Mother."

---

On most days, Kierra would have happily greeted the sunrise.

But not today.

Even as her chambers brightened, and the music of the city rose outside, the queen remained slumped in her bed. She stared out into nothing, dark circles showing under her eyes. Sleep had proved most elusive, and when it came at last Kierra's dreams did little to ease her conflicted feelings.

Kierra washed and dressed in silence. She'd packed clothes befitting her station, elegant but not too gaudy or provocative. Today it was a sable gown with glittering golden trim, flowing bell sleeves and an elegant high neckline.

She tied her hair into a neat bun and regarded her appearance in the mirror.

This was better, wasn't it?

Proper. Modest.

How a queen should appear.

The rest of the morning was quiet and uneventful. Two young attendants, a boy and a girl, saw to her laundry and to the tidying of her chambers. A brief inspection of her guards and their respective housing confirmed all was well.

But throughout it all, Overlord Azral was conspicuously absent. His own knights and servants were all accounted for, but the man himself wasn't anywhere to be seen.

It lasted until the morning banquet, when Kierra sat at a long ebony table before the fortress's vast feasting hall. Close to a hundred grey orcs from across the mountains had shown up to dine with their ruler. Clan leaders, their guards, noted monster hunters, and mages. All wore tunics or long robes dyed in various deep hues, and donned decorated pauldrons much like Azral's. Their muscled arms were left bare, as was custom during their holy days.

Also present were other select citizens of Azral's domain. Goblins, hobgoblins, and even a rare drow elf unaffiliated with those of the Underdark or surface world.

Kierra sat by the head of the table, right beside Azral's empty chair. If not for the night before, such an arrangement might not have caused her concern.

Kierra scanned both ends of the table. Her guard would be allowed to join them on her side, and vice versa. More than enough company to distract herself and avoid giving anything away.

Astrid and Milius joined her, while on the other side the senior orcish knight Torin arrived. Save for the company of a goblin cupbearer, he was alone. Free of his helmet, the Arcadians got their first decent look at the man. Tall and sinewy, his eyes the color of the sky at sunset, with dark grey hair and a beard both streaked with white.

Kierra looked behind him for any sign of Azral.

"Captain Torin," she asked after a minute's waiting, "where is your master?"

Torin leaned on one elbow against the table. "Overlord Azral apologizes for his lateness. He had some pressing business. Another guest has graced us with her presence and will be joining us soon."

Kierra shared a befuddled look with Milius.

"And... who is this guest?"

Torin smiled. "Lady Selaras, court mage to King Nievar and Queen Danye of Val-Varon."

Kierra couldn't believe her ears. Val-Varon, land of the eladrin. Or 'high elves' to outsiders. From their coastal city Ithas, they had ruled the known world northwest of the Dragon's Teeth for many hundreds of years.

She knew they offered an alliance to its inhabitants some years ago. But as far as Kierra knew, little had come of it save for the occasional summit.

Elves, long-lived as they were, could afford to take their time in such matters.

"I..." she chose her words carefully. "I had no idea the Overlord was making such strides with the eladrin. This is pleasing news."

She wasn't lying. It was a surprise, but a pleasant one. Something to take her mind off of what happened between her and Azral.

Milius and Astrid appeared to share the sentiment. But under his breath, Kierra heard Milius grumble, "Of course they are. Anything to get a leg up on us."

Kierra pretended not to hear him.

Torin perked up, his gaze fixing on the far end of the hall.

"There he is. Finally."

The door swung open, and a scattering of cheers and greeted the Overlord.

Azral's hair was tied back today. He wore a charcoal-colored robe which, to Kierra's delight and shame, bared part of his broad chest. He wore the same armor as he had the day before, and matching bracers decorated with a similar script.

The orc greeted his many guests with a wave, grinning from ear to ear. Though he carried the same arrogance as before, Kierra noted how many of the visiting kin he acknowledged by name, or with a shake of the hand.

A real man of the people, she thought with a wry smirk.

Her face turned blank, however, the moment she saw who was trailing behind Azral.

On one side was the woman Shevra. Gone was the skimpy chemise and collar. She was clad in formal attire matching that of Torin's and many other guests. Shevra wore her hair in decorative braids, which were streaked with a bloody red hue. Said color was also painted on her pauldrons, and across her forearms.

How...?

Then it struck Kierra. Shevra wasn't some courtesan. She was a Sword of Azral. Her night with Azral was no contract being fulfilled. Simply a loyal soldier enjoying the privileges of her position, whether it be with her own kind or with visitors from another realm.

A pit grew in Kierra's stomach as she recalled the elf.

"No."

The word had barely escaped her lips when Kierra saw her. The elven lady was dressed in a fine form-fitting strapless cobalt gown, her hair falling long and loose across her bare shoulders. Her tattoos gleamed like stars in the night sky.

Azral's goblin attendant, whom Kierra recognized from the day before, cleared his throat.

"Rise, to acknowledge our monarch Azral Dragonbane, Patriarch of the Grey Ones and Keeper of the Black Altar.

And to welcome Lady Selaras of House Tur, Speaker for the Ithasi Court."

Selaras, or 'Gilda', as Kierra had heard her called, smiled and waved at all present. Her beauty was matched by a gracious and even regal bearing. A stunning contrast to the chained, subservient maiden who would spend the night in a warlord's bed.

Kierra sat in stony silence as they took their seats. Shevra and Selaras on Azral's side, while the Overlord stood at the head of the table. He picked up a goblet, already filled by his servants, and raised a toast to all present.

"My people. Friends and neighbors."

His cold blue eyes found Kierra's.

"Honored guests.

On the first day of the Hunter's Moon, let us mark the day with a toast to our neighbors in the East, and the West.

Now, we haven't always been the best of friends. In fact I'd go so far as to say we've given each other generations of headaches.

When we weren't just bashing said heads in."

Laughter rang through the hall.

"But by the courage and selflessness of my father, and of Queen Kierra's father, that time of bloodshed is over.

Now we balm our wounds. Honor our dead. Tend to our harvest, and welcome new life yet to come."

The orcs present smiled ear to ear. Some of them edged closer together, or let their hands wander. A small taste of what waited them that night, Kierra knew.

Azral raised the goblet high.

"Arcadia stands. The Dragon's Teeth will not dull."

He looked at Kierra, stepping aside. It didn't occur to her until she saw her own goblet was already full that he expected her to speak as well.

Pelor save me.

Doing her best not to look at either Shevra or Selaras, she rose and picked up her goblet. It shook in her hand before she steeled herself and faced Azral.

"Well, where to begin?

To be a queen means making compromises. It means looking to the future, and not the past. That's not always an easy thing to do. But it is what's right.

I thank you, Overlord, for your hospitality and your willingness to build that future together."

Kierra allowed herself a nervous grin.

"I'm sure there will be moreheadaches to come. But so long as you or I get to keep our heads at all, I suppose that's a start."

Her good cheer was answered by another chorus of laughter. Astrid nodded encouragingly, while Milius simply stayed put.

Kierra's vision moved to the other side of the table. Shevra was resting her head on one hand, her elbow on the table. When she was young, Kierra's mother Lyta would have scolded her for that.

Meanwhile Selaras watched with her hands folded, sitting poised and upright.

Azral stood, immovable, watching her wordlessly.

Kierra continued even as she felt his gaze boring into her like a shard of ice.

"Honor to your ancestors, Overlord.

Hail to your gods, Helm the Vigilant and Kossuth the Firelord."

Dozens of murmured 'Hails' answered.

Touching an amulet which hung around her waist, Kierra concluded.

"And hail to Pelor.

Onward, into the Light."

She clinked her goblet against Azral's.

The hall erupted in hearty cheers and applause. If Azral's subjects respected anything, Kierra knew, it was frankness. Candor between friends, or even foes.

On either side of the hall the cheers were followed by music. Deep, thrumming melodies which spurred the orcs to make merry, drink and feast to their heart's content. Lines of dancers flitted between the many tables, drawing whoops and loud calls that caused Kierra's ears to burn.

Kierra took her seat, relieved it was over. She didn't look at Azral's entourage again, knowing any further eye contact would risk letting something slip.

But it wasn't to be. While his knights conversed with Selaras, Azral turned in his chair and peered at Kierra.

"Well done," he said.

Kierra nodded humbly. She had to maintain her decorum, say nothing of the previous night. As long as she could stay in the here and now, address business as usual as she'd put it, he wouldn't suspect.

And yet, in the sickest of ironies, her mind turned to the elf Selaras. Late-night mischief aside, Kierra had several questions on the mage's presence.

"You hadn't told me a speaker of the eladrin would be joining us. Why?

Did you not consider this pertinent information? Or did you simply not trust me?"

Azral waved his hand. "Neither. I first made the lady's acquaintance one year ago, when an outbreak of plague threatened our settlements on the northernmost mountains. It spread quickly, and our healers could only do so much to mitigate it."

He glanced behind him.

"Queen Danye tasked Selaras and two capable clerics with helping us.

We spent many a night watching over the sick, passing the time however we could. Telling stories. Debating whose gods are greater or wiser. Pointing out stars in the night sky and trying to remember their names. At the time it all seemed rather dull."

Azral chuckled. "Funny. The things that we might take for granted today, might be treasured one year, ten years, fifty years from now."

Kierra listened raptly. It was a nice story, she thought, as she allowed herself a look at Selaras.

"Those tattoos," she noted. "Is that where she got the idea?"

"Very good!" Azral beamed. "Yes indeed, I would see her again months later, on an excursion to the coast. It didn't take long to notice the change.

Of course, we didn't spend the whole of the voyage acting all sentimental. It was a matter of diplomacy, then and now. Business as usual, I believe you put it."

The orc's prominent brow quirked at Kierra, and she felt a twinge of embarrassment. The feeling passed, however, as she pondered on the mage's presence here. The ruckus in Azral's chamber was hardly what one would call a diplomatic mission. More than that, the timing was far too convenient.

Dread crept over Kierra as she once again considered the possibility that Azral knew of her snooping. That he was toying with her, waiting for her to give it away.

Keeping as straight a face as she could, Kierra asked, "In that case, I'm to believe Selaras coming here just before me was coincidence, yes? No other reason?"

Azral cocked his head. "Now who's being distrustful?"

Kierra considered a retort but thought better of it. She stewed in her thoughts until they turned to Shevra. She wracked her brain and tried to think of a way to broach the subject, inquire as to how a knight ended up so casually going to bed with her liege lord.

Thankfully, she didn't have to. Astrid did it for her.

"The other woman," she remarked. "The one with the braids. I have a question."

Azral leaned over a few inches, as to better see her. "And you are?"

Kierra watched as Astrid straightened in her chair and donned a more professional demeanor. The effect was more endearing than anything else. "Lieutenant Astrid, of House Crythen."

"Well, Lieutenant, ask away."

Now it was Astrid who leaned over the table, as she gaped at Shevra.

"I couldn't help but notice the color of her garb. And her hair.

It brought to mind a story I heard, of an orcish woman who won her fame battling a monster belched from the Underdark. A spider that devoured a whole town, until the woman led several like her to slay the beast even after it killed and ate their fathers, brothers, and husbands."

Kierra's ears perked.

"I heard the story as well.

When the beast was slain they painted their arms with the color of blood. They took up their men's swords from that day forward. Even took the name of the beast they'd slain.

The Red Widow."

Both women stared at Shevra, as Azral nodded in appreciation.

"Well spotted, both of you."

The Overlord regarded Shevra with pride. "There's six of them in total. Torin, my captain, he saw to their training himself and named them sisters among my sworn Swords when they were ready. Proper she-devils, all."

He glanced back and forth between Kierra and Astrid. "Perhaps an introduction, if you're interested? She'd be delighted to speak withyou again, Your Majesty."

A furtive look caused Kierra to look down sheepishly. She thought of their first meeting, how Shevra had looked at her. Something told her the warrior would be interested in far more than just an idle talk.

If a diplomat of the elves wasn't off-limits...

"Why?"

The three of them froze.

Milius had spoken up at last. He was facing them, regarding both his queen and subordinate with exasperation. Worse was the animosity that poured out of him when he looked at Azral.

"I beg your pardon?" Azral shot back, his irritation plain as day.

Milius gestured to the other side of the table, at both Torin and Shevra.

"Why should my liege lady waste precious hours of her day on a woman who was knighted on but a whim? Yes, she killed a large spider. Any angry villager of yours with a pitchfork could do that.

I too have heard of yourRed Widows. And save for a few wives' tales I fail to see anything about them worth her time."

"Captain." Kierra's eyes widened in alarm.

Azral's lip pulled back in a wolfish smile. His sharp canine teeth glinted dangerously.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Maybe when we're done, I should send them to talk to you next. Tell them exactly what you told me."

He let out a soft, mirthless laugh. "Should be entertaining."

Milius's eyes peered past Azral. Shevra, Torin and Selaras had paused in their conversation and were gazing tensely at the impertinent captain.

Shevra in particular had a look about her that was nothing short of lethal.

"You doubt my skill, Sir?" she asked. "You think my girls and I were granted our titles out of pity?"

Milius leaned back in his chair disdainfully.

"What I think is that your type's standards on knighthood might be somewhat lax."

Now it was Torin glowering at him. "Ourtype?"

That was quite enough.

"Silence, Milius!" Kierra barked.

He snapped to attention reflexively. Kierra looked daggers at Milius until, finally, he bowed his head.

"Your Highness," he muttered. "It appears I've overstayed my welcome. I will return this evening."

Milius stood up, and with a stiff and awkward gait he departed the hall.

Kierra, Azral and their guard sat quietly, while the rest of the banquet carried on around them. Just like that, the queen didn't think unwanted flirtations and evening trysts were her greatest concern anymore.

So great was the distraction that Kierra didn't notice the volcanic anger rising in Astrid.

---

The day wore on.

At mid-day, as the banquet drew to a close, one of the doors to the Horned Keep's feasting hall slammed open.

Out stormed Astrid, her arms swinging with every step as if she was ready to hit something.

She didn't care if the Overlord was mostly unbothered. She didn't give a damn if Queen Kierra would have words for her later, if she acted now. Captain Milius was out of line, and they all knew it. And if Astrid was the one to break it to him, then so be it.

The incensed knight found her superior sulking alone by the east watchtower. He was slouching against a wooden post, his arms folded as he looked ready to boil in his own armor.

"Captain." Astrid was almost startled by the sound of her voice, low and threatening. Milius appeared similarly taken aback, his head whipping around to look at her like she was some vicious monster about to attack.

Astrid reckoned she didn't look particularly pleasant. Her violet eyes looked almost red in the bloody morning light, and her canine teeth glinted dangerously as she scowled at Milius.

She wasn't surprised at Milius's alarm. Though she and her family were of the enlightened drow, those who'd departed the Underdark in defiance of Lolth's malice and tyranny, she carried a certain stigma with her all the same.

"Lieutenant," Milius groaned. "If you're looking to force the issue, I advise you turn back now. I meant what I said. And I will not yield."

"Well, that's just the problem? Isn't it?" Astrid faced down the senior knight, defiantly putting her hands on her hips and raising her head as to look him dead in the eye.

"You're a hard man, Captain. In the four months I've served with you, I recognize you're the kind to stand by your convictions. I admire that.

But Eilistraee help me if you aren't the most snide, condescending stick in the mud sometimes. Do you think Her Majesty would have made it as far as she has, led us here, signed that treaty and guaranteed a lifetime of peace if she was even half as stubborn as you?"

Milius didn't budge.

"Not likely, no. In fact, I think Her Majesty's good heart is a one ofher most admirable traits.

But her tolerance for fools, for transgressors, is a liability. Kierra may bite her tongue for the sake of keeping order, that is her duty. My duty is safeguarding the defense of our nation, and that means putting my foot down with any who would threaten it."

Astrid shook her head, raising her arms in exasperation.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The Overlord," Milius spat out. "You see the way he looks at our queen, don't you? How that painted harridan by his side carries herself? Don't think for a moment their intentions for Her Majesty are anything remotely pure."

Astrid almost laughed. "Is that it? One suggestive remark at the table don't make the Overlord a threat, Captain. I think Queen Kierra can hold her own. She doesn't need your help, or mine, and you disrespect her if you suggest otherwise."

Milius said nothing.

Astrid went on, advancing as her ire rose. "You dismiss her strength, to sate your own prejudice. You upset a situation difficult enough already, just to stroke your ego."

"My ego?" The knight's posture stiffened, and he rose to his full height above Astrid.

Unimpressed, she shot back, "Yes, your ego. You want to talk about pure intentions? How about that look you gave Captain Torin's men before the banquet? If I hadn't pulled you aside, you might have embarrassed yourselfand the queen all in one go."

There was a dull ringing in her ears, and her face grew flushed and hot with anger.

And then, before she could stop herself, Astrid snapped, "You and those boys like a trio of tavern brawlers. Deep in your cups, fighting over a barmaid. Zipping down your trousers and flapping your cocks about for everyone to see!"

She couldn't believe the words out of her own mouth. The ringing in her ears subsided, and she stopped dead in her tracks. The terrible reality of her situation sank in, and Astrid suddenly felt very small. She'd just cursed out her commanding officer.

Astrid, an elf with roots far removed from Arcadia, had insulted a seasoned knight with years of experience, a high standing in court, and a name that alone commanded more respect than hers.

Milius, for his part, looked absolutely livid. But as his mouth opened to reprimand her, the captain's bright hazel eyes darted to his right, then his left. His anger appeared to subside, giving way to alarm again.

"What?"

Astrid allowed herself to look around, and instantly she understood what had him so perturbed.

Half a dozen orcs were watching them. Some looked like commoners, men and women who'd stumbled on an unusually interesting sight. Others, Astrid noticed with a grimace, were warriors like her and Milius.

Three among them were the more heavily armed Swords of Azral. They were headed by the elder, Torin, who looked rather like a child who'd just been given the best of presents for his birthday. He caught Astrid's eye and smiled, seemingly impressed by her boldness on his people's behalf.

Behind him was Shevra, the Red Widow. She watched with one hip cocked, and her head tilted to one side. The woman's expression was nothing short of enraptured.

Aware of how many pairs of eyes were on them, Astrid felt panic setting in.

"I..." Astrid stuttered. "I'm sorry, Captain."

Milius surveyed the scene around them, his face softening. "Perhaps it's best we conclude this elsewhere."

Astrid shook her head.

"No. No, I spoke out of turn. Forgive me. Forgive..."

To hell with this. Astrid turned on her heel and walked away, averting her eyes from Milius, or the Swords, or anyone else in her way.

She didn't stop until she was inside the Horned Keep once more, back at the guest quarters.  They were mercifully empty, with any other Arcadians still out and about. Astrid made for her bedchamber and closed the door behind her.

How could she be so stupid? It was hard enough for Kierra that the senior officer in their company was acting like a self-important ass. Now Astrid was making a scene, diminishing herself in the eyes of their former foes.

She'd hoped it would be a good day. Or at least a peaceful one. There was small chance of that now.

Clutching her head between her hands, Astrid did her best to calm her thoughts. When the backlash came, and Kierra reprimanded both her and Milius for their behavior, Astrid wouldn't greet it with excuses or groveling.

Center yourself, she thought.

Find your inner peace.

The blade. Let the blade guide you.

Astrid looking around for any sign of company. When she was content no one was watching, the knight removed each piece of her plate armor one by one until only her slim gambeson, breeches and boots remained.

She drew her longsword and walked to the center of the chamber. Taking a stance, she stretched out her sword-arm and pointed towards the sky above.

"Eilistraee. Dark Maiden, Lady of the Dance, help me find balance."

When her heart rate had slowed enough, and her body was no longer shaking, Astrid began to move. Her body shifted from one stance to the next, until she fell into a dance of sorts. It was something she'd seen many years ago, in a settlement north of Arcadia.

Amongst the drow of her village were a pair of sisters. Sword Dancers who prayed to the goddess of song, dance, swordplay and most important of all freedom.

They were so beautiful, Astrid remembered. So graceful. Their gift with the blade was unmatched. As a girl, she'd wanted to be just like them.

Dancing under the moon. Stripped of all any earthly tethers.

That and more...

Astrid's heart swelled in her chest at the memory of the Sword Dancers' bodies in the moonlight. Every line and curve honed to perfection.

She pictured herself among them, pirouetting and lunging and twirling with all the spirit the Dark Maiden had granted her.

Then another face entered Astrid's fantasy. A grey-skinned, fanged woman from the mountains. Her dark braided hair, streaked bloody red. Her tall, imposing form towering over the elf.

Astrid pictured them dancing alongside one another. Hands entwined. Blades locked.

Skin touching skin.

Red Widow...

"Ahem."

Astrid staggered. Her form was lost, and her sword almost tumbled from numb fingers.

She whirled to face the door. Standing at the entrance were Torin and Shevra, with three other orcs in tow.

"Oh. Forgive me, I didn't see you... I mean, I didn't know you were there."

Torin shrugged. "It's quite alright. We only just showed up, actually."

He looked Astrid up and down, appraising both her form and the sword she carried.

Shevra did the same and remarked, "Fine blade you carry. As fine as any I've seen."

Astrid straightened up, bowing her head in gratitude. But she couldn't help but notice how the half-orc's eyes lingered on not just her weapon, but her body.

"Thank you."

They stood in silence until Astrid cleared her throat and asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Well," Torin answered, "I thought Shevra and I would take a moment to thank you for your candor back there. That nasty business concerning your captain."

Astrid's mouth drew into a tight line.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you had to hear any of that. Captain Milius is a good man, truly. Brave, steadfast, and loyal. Loyal to a fault, really. He and his family have served Ainar with distinction for years, and old habits die hard.

It wasn't my place to..."

Shevra's gaze hardened, and she raised a finger. "No. Fuck apologies. You were right to say what you did. Somebody had to, and if it was to be one of the man's own knights, all the better for it."

Astrid wasn't entirely convinced. But it was nice to hear, all the same.

"Now..." Torin stepped further into her chamber, the three other orcs in tow. "If I may be so bold, may I ask what prompted such an animated response?"

Astrid shrugged, her finger plucking at the hilt of her sword.

"Where I grew up," she explained, "There was a small band of orcs who'd moved in not long before I was born."

Astrid gestured to each of them. "Grey Ones, like yourselves. It caused something of a stir, but after about five years it was like they'd lived there all their lives."

Shevra crept closer as she told the story. Soon she was slouched against the small dining table in the middle of Astrid's quarters, her arms crossed. Set down behind her was a peculiar sack, the kind one one saved for a day on the road.

"Go on, dear."

Astrid felt her stomach flutter at the uttering of the word 'dear'.

"In any case, I was lucky enough to befriend the orcs' two children. We did everything together. Snuck off to a bog and counted all the different kinds of bugs we'd find. Watched the Sword Dancers on the night of the full moon."

She paused, regarding Shevra's dark red locks.

"Braid each other's hair," she added. That was all she was comfortable sharing, lest she start to share more private, explicit details.

The swordswoman and her commanding officer shared a sentimental grin.

"That's wonderful. Truly."

Shevra's voice was surprisingly gentle for one of her kind. Her eyes, a bright iridescent blue, drifted down again and she pointed at the sword.

"Is that where you claimed that weapon of yours? It doesn't look like the typical Arcadian longsword."

Astrid felt a pang of nostalgia.

"Yes. It was my mother's, actually."

Torin gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry. When did she pass?"

Astrid blinked twice, her face blank until she almost burst into laughter.

"Wha...? Goddess, no, she's notdead!"

She held the sword aloft. "No, she just decided I needed it more. Riding off into the world, crossing the borders of our land and pledging myself to the Arcadians' royal army, it helped that I had something familiar to hold onto."

The corner of Torin's mouth twitched, and his eyes fell sheepishly.

"Right."

While the three other orcs snickered at their captain Shevra beckoned Astrid to come over. "May I?"

Astrid did as she asked. Joining Shevra at the table she held the elven sword in front of her. Shevra ran her fingers along the length of the weapon, scrutinizing its keen edge and elegantly crafted hilt.

More than once, the tips of her fingers brushed against Astrid's. Causing the drow's cheeks to flush.

"Beautiful," Shevra murmured. "I think it suits you, little blade."

Astrid pulled back an inch or so. "Little?"

Shevra withdrew her hands and looked at Astrid apologetically. "Terribly sorry. It's a pet name I tend to use for some of the younger swords in our ranks. A term of endearment, of course."

That was fair, Astrid supposed. She's heard several in the Dawn's Hammer, and even the Royal Guard themselves, refer to one another with a collection of nicknames. Some sweet, some vulgar.

Astrid thought of the Red Widows' story and asked, "Your sword is something of a memento too. When you venture forth, it feels good having something of your family by your side."

Shevra returned to the sword again, nodding in agreement. And this time, she rested her hand on top of Astrid's.

Then she looked right at her. The same amorous expression from before creeping across her sharp face.

Astrid felt something stir inside her. She felt that feeling she'd let in when practicing, only twice as strong now that the swordswoman was standing right in front of her.

"I should probably go," she mumbled.

From behind her, she heard, "No need to leave yet."

With a start, Astrid spun around. Torin had circled back around her while she was focused on Shevra. The others had followed, now standing in a loose ring around them. And every one of them was looking right at Astrid.

One of them was a stout, muscled woman with pierced ears and dark runic tattoos on one of her arms. Her hair was shaved on the sides, with the rest pulled back into a lengthy ponytail.

The others, she realized with a small gasp, were the two men she'd spoken to on the walkway.

"Tell us," Shevra said in a soft voice, "is it strange being amongst our kind again?

Astrid shook her head, her eyes darting from one orc to the other.

"No. It's actually quite pleasant."

"Good," Torin replied. "Then if you wouldn't mind, Shevra and I would like to make it just a little more... memorable."

What does he...?

Astrid's jaw clenched. Understanding hit her like a clap of thunder.

"Me? And the two of you?"

Low, rumbling, scintillating laughter greeted her.

Asrid's knees quaked.

"All five?"

"Consider it your way of partaking in the spirit of the season, little blade." A deep, subtle, almost imperceptible thrumming echoed in Shevra's voice. A telltale sign of arousal in her kind, Astrid remembered. She'd heard it before, long ago, when she and the neighbors' children were old enough to talk of such things.

Both old enough to talk, and to partake.

"And think of it as enjoying the full scope of our hospitality. Knight to knight."

Astrid didn't realize she was retreating until she felt her back slam into the table behind her. She winced from the impact, a high-pitched gasp escaping her lips.

"Oh..." Shevra chuckled. "Don't be scared."

Astrid wasn't scared, anyone present could tell. It was just Shevra's way, teasing and prodding at her quarry until they were helpless to do anything but fold in her hands.

The three other Swords grinned, sharing a laugh as Astrid's eyes flitted between each of them, then back to Torin.

"What will happen to Milius?" she squeaked.

Torin shrugged. "Leave that to Shevra's girls"

Astrid peered back at him. "The other Widows?"

"Correct." Torin's eyes glinted dangerously.

"It's their honor, their capability Milius has called into question.

They'll set him straight. Sort out that, how did you put it, ego of his. Both in the field..."

His fangs bared.

"And then in bed."

A hundred perverse images flashes through Astrid's mind. She bit her lip, shaking as Shevra's strong hand crept up the back of her neck.

"I'm not sure he'll be quite so receptive."

"He's a proud man," Shevra said dismissively. "But a man all the same. Maybe they'll test Milius's ego in some manner, get him see them as a challenge to overcome. Or perhaps, like most men, it will take just a few honeyed words, a smile, and a pair of lips around his cock to lighten his mood. Either way, my girls will find that chink in his armor."

Her voice lowered to a soft purr. "Then they'll pry... it... open."

Astrid did her best not to squirm. "And you?"

"I had a more than satisfying night," Shevra hissed into Astrid's ear. "I'll take my time. For now, these strapping men and woman are all yours, pet."

She pointed at the others one by one.

First was the other woman. "That's Zhora. The moment you cursed out poor Milius, she wanted you. Right then and there. I didn't have the heart to tell her no."

Next were the two men.

"These are the Twins. You were so courteous to our boys this morning. So it's only fair I brought them along too, let them thank you for it."

Astrid cocked her head.

"But they're not..."

Shevra's tongue flicked her cheek, and Astrid's voice trailed off.

"Pet names, Astrid. Pet names."

Shevra's hand wrapped around Astrid's neck, and for a moment it felt like she was going to choke the elf.

A part of Astrid wondered if that would really be so terrible, before she came back down to earth.

"This is crazy. My liege lady would be shocked if she knew where I was, what you've just offered me."

"She is our guest," Shevra breathed. "But so are you. Let us pamper and please you as a brave, true, steadfast knight like yourself deserves.

We're at your service, Astrid. All you have to do is nod your pretty head and say, 'yes'."

Astrid felt her legs start to give way. There was no stopping it now, the fixation she'd felt gnawing at her since she arrived. Torin, Shevra and the others, she was all theirs for however long they would have her.

In a shaky, almost frantic whisper she answered.

"Goddess, yes."

The next minute was a blur. Astrid's gambeson, breeches and smallclothes were yanked away while the orcs' armor fell noisily around her. Strong hands pawed at her lithe body, prodding and groping every inch of skin they could find.

Before long she found herself on the bed with Zhora. Draped across the mattress, Astrid had her arms pinned to either side as the powerfully built orc bent down towards her wet cunt.

She shivered involuntarily, and Zhora snickered.

"It's alright," she said in a low, husky growl.

"Rest easy. The rough part comes later."

Astrid couldn't think about what that meant before Zhora opened her fanged mouth, and dove in.

"Oh! Ohhh!"

Astrid's head fell over the edge of her mattress, eyes crossing from the pleasure between her legs. Zhora's tongue, her lips, even her pronounced teeth flicked drew unimaginable sensations that caused Astrid's back to arch, and her fingers to dig into the sheets until she felt the fabric rip.

"No," she heard above her.

She felt Torin pull her hands away from the bedsheets. Her eyes opened, and Astrid stared dumbly as, Torin and the Twins men stood in front of her, cocks out and fully engorged.

"You worked wonders with that blade. Now put those hands of yours back to work."

The mature swordsman cupped her chin, sliding a thumb into her mouth. Astrid felt her tongue swirling around his digit, and she started sucking without even thinking of it.

Astrid did as she was told, reaching out and seizing each of the other orc's members.

From behind Torin, Shevra watched with an expression equal parts entertained and aroused. She'd joined in and stripped like the rest, leaving nothing on but her boots and a leather belt. Her long legs, chiseled abdomen and perky breasts caused Astrid's mouth to water, and as Torin withdrew his hand a string of drool followed.

"Good girl," Shevra teased.

"So eager, so obedient! You're not like that captain of yours, or even the queen, are you?"

"Nooo..." Astrid couldn't help but answer truthfully as her hosts closed in on her.

Shevra's toothy grin grew wider. "You're a little she-devil. Just like me."

A slow, languid lick of Zhora's long tongue kept Astrid from articulating any further. So she just nodded along.

"Then open up," Torin ordered. "Let us welcome you properly, she-devil."

Astrid's lips parted as easily as her legs.

Perhaps today would be a good day, after all.

---

"That could very well have been a disaster, Milius."

Kierra glared at the captain of her guard, hands on her hips and face darkening by the second.

Watching from the side was Azral, who looked like he was doing all he could not to bark with smug laughter. Kierra had considered leaving the Overlord out of this scolding, but decided her point could only be made of both the offender and offended were present.

"At sundown," she proclaimed, "we will reconvene for the lighting of the First Bonfire. You will apologize to Shevra, and then to the Overlord himself for your disrespect."

Kierra was in utter disbelief at her stroke of luck. On any other day, such an embarrassment would have her worried, if not outright panicked. But given the choice between navigating this spat or letting her mind wander back to the threesome in Azral's chamber, Kierra knew full well her preference.

"For now, you will shake hands and be done with it."

Azral swaggered up to the two humans, giving Kierra a flirty smile. His voice was a low, satisfied drawl as he said, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

She maintained her stoic disposition, refusing to appear any more favorable than was necessary.

Milius, stiff as a wooden plank, took Azral by the hand and shook once. It looked like they were clenched tightly, trying to assert themselves in even the smallest, pettiest ways.

"I look forward to hearing those two little words from you tonight, knight."

Milius harumphed.

"Don't expect me to start begging for your forgiveness, orc. As you say, Iam a knight.

And knights don't beg."

---

"Yes! Yes!

OH, GODDESS, PLEASE!"

Astrid howled in ecstasy as Torin took her.

Flopping face-first onto the now soaked bedsheet, the drow elf stuck her ass in the air for the veteran warrior. Both of the Twins had mounted Astrid already, the Arcadian knight submitting to their every desire until they'd both finished inside her.

They rested on either side of the bed now, content to enjoy the show.

Torin, despite his advancing age, was no less eager or forceful. Years of experience only aided him, helping the champion please Astrid in any way he could. Looking at his tall and sinewy body, one he'd taken good care of even as the years wore on, Astrid was happy to accept whatever he had to offer.

He'd started by seizing Astrid's white hair and pulling it back, letting her rise to her hands and knees again. At the sight of her arched, muscled back flexing and undulating in front of him Torin rewarded her enthusiasm with a hard spank.

"Ahh!"

Astrid's voice was shrill as she cried out, but her smile betrayed how much she enjoyed it.

"What do you say to our captain?" Zhora asked, kneeling on the floor in front of her. One of her hands danced over her own dripping slit, and the other teased Astrid's breasts as they swayed and jiggled under her.

Astrid looked over her shoulder at Torin. "Thank you!"

Her words spurred him onwards. Torin thrusted faster, moving his hips in time with Astrid as she pushed back onto him.

The young knight's eyes screwed shut as she felt another orgasm building.

"Thank you!

Thankyou-thankyou-thankyou..."

"Here," Zhora grunted. She let go of Astrid and took hold of her chest before shoving it in the elf's face.

"Give thanks to these."

Astrid didn't hesitate. She suckled the she-orc's tits, moaning whorishly all the while.

"That's it, keep going." Zhora resumed pleasuring herself, now aided by Astrid's attentions.

"Fuck!"

She came quickly. Darting to her feet, Zhora stood over the other woman's face and pulled her close. "Lick it, all of it."

Astrid happily obeyed. She would do anything, anything and everything they asked of her. Even as she convulsed around Torin's cock and felt her arms nearly give out under her, she played her part to the end.

It was enough to send Torin into daze. He reached his peak and withdrew, a string of Orcish curses flying from his mouth as he exploded across Astrid's rear and lower back.

Shevra watched all of this with glee. While her lord and master focused his efforts on winning over the human queen, the Red Widow was content to play with her little toy soldiers. Especially ones as sweet as Astrid.

"Pet?"

Astrid's blank face rose. Shevra delighted at her glistening mouth, her watery and almost-vacant eyes, the tremble of her arms as she barely held herself up.

"Have you enjoyed yourself?"

The blushing elf nodded woozily. "Yes."

Shevra snapped her fingers at the other orcs, shooing them away. Even Torin withdrew, but not without giving Astrid one last teasing kiss and a slap on her bottom.

"All yours," he murmured.

Astrid knelt on the bed alone. It appeared they were letting her catch her breath. She appreciated the chance, knowing there was still one orc here who hadn't yet taken their turn.

Shevra confirmed her suspicions when she walked back to the dinner table, where she'd left her sack and its unseen contents. It took a moment to find and pull out whatever she was looking for. Astrid couldn't see it, but the rest of the orcs seemed to know full well. They shared lecherous glances or clapped one another on the back in excitement.

It didn't take long for Astrid to put it all together. As Shevra faced away, only shooting a ravenous smile at Astrid once or twice, she pulled a leather harness around her hips, then under her womanhood. The apparel was dark in color, decorated with some peculiar arcane symbols foreign to Astrid.

But not to the other orcs, who laughed or whistled as it all locked in place with an audibleclick.

A shimmer of magic emanated around Shevra's midsection. It coalesced around her groin, and a soft magenta glow emanated from the front of whatever this thing was.

Her heart racing, Astrid watched as Shevra turned on the spot and faced her.

"Eilistraee save me," she gasped.

The Red Widow was wearing a decorated strap-on dildo. Its rich black leather was of an exceptional quality, the silvery decorations and locks glinting in the dim bedchamber. The attached phallus was shaped from a deep blue crystal, which hummed audibly as if it had a life of its own. Magenta light was pouring out of its core, channeled through several runes inscribed along the harness.

Shevra advanced on Astrid slowly. Swaying her hips, and cocking her head playfully, she lifted the elf's chin up to look at her.

"I picked up this little trinket in the north. In a market just off the borders of the high elves' domain."

As she spoke, Shevra took the time to plant several soft kisses on Astrid's neck, her cheek, then finally her lips.

"Not every man or woman who has the privilege of bedding me gets to see it.

You're a very lucky girl, Astrid."

She took the submissive knight by the hips and laid her on her back again.

"A veryspecial girl."

Astrid's legs were hoisted up, her calves resting on each of Shevra's strong shoulders.

The orcs crept around the room. When every one of the Swords encircled their sister-in-arms, and her eager submissive, Shevra leered at Astrid and grasped the base of her glittering appendage. A dull growl rose in the back of her throat as the toy shimmered and sent a pleasurable sensation back into her body. Like Astrid, she would feel every moment of this.

"Now, again, what do you say?"

Astrid lounged back with a euphoric expression. "Thank you, Red Widow."

Shevra breathed heavily and directed her makeshift cock downwards, trailing over Astrid's still-glistening lower lips and enjoying the sound it drew from her. Then, with a lick of her lips, she found the hole she was looking for and pressed her tip against the entrance.

"Ah!" Astrid looked down at where the crystal dildo was touching her, then back up at Shevra. Her lower body shifted in place, as if she was finally growing hesitant.

"If you're not comfortable," Shevra whispered, "I have other uses for this."

The tall half-orc gently stroked Astrid's pussy, teasing her folds and resting one finger on her clitoris.

But Astrid shook her head. "No!"

She continued to shuffle in place, not breaking eye contact with Shevra for a second.

Then, as she took hold of the bedpost and pressed her rear against Shevra's glowing tool once more, it became clear what Astrid was doing. She wasn't having any second thoughts, any reservations.

No. Astrid had merely given Shevra a better angle to work with. She wasn't going anywhere.

"Here," she panted in excitement. "Do it."

Torin, Zhora and the Twins laughed. The little drow had well and truly given in. Shevra had claimed another victory, the latest in her long line of carnal conquests.

Shevra smirked appreciatively, indeed looking every bit the victor.

"Are you ready, little blade?"

"Yes, Red Widow."

The taller woman took hold of her hips, and Astrid drew in a sharp breath when Shevra's sharp nails dug into her dark grey skin.

"Prepare yourself," Shevra moaned huskily.

Astrid did her best. But as the crystalline phallus sank into her ass with slippery ease, she knew nothing on earth would have possibly prepared her for this.

"Oh, fuck..."

The elf's lavender eyes almost bugged out of their sockets. She grasped the bedpost hard enough to draw a loud creak in the aged wood, and her body quivered violently.

Shevra wasn't going to be gentle.

And as the swordswoman claimed her in one powerful thrust, Astrid wouldn't have it any other way.

---

Queen Kierra sat alone, watching the Lake of Fire rage on in the dimming afternoon. Members of her guard lingered close, conversing either with each other or passing orcs.

She pondered on the events of the past two days. To say things hadn't gone as planned would be like saying a dragon's breath was a little toasty.

But still, she mused, between the presence of a high elf diplomat and her host's mostly amenable answer to the dispute that morning, this journey could have gone far worse.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kierra spotted a blue and silvery shape approaching. She looked up to see Lady Selaras striding toward her. The elf's hands were folded demurely in front of her, and her bearing was as dignified as one would expect from a lady of the court.

"Your Majesty," Selaras proclaimed in a soft, musical voice.

"My lady." Kierra gestured to a spot on the rocky outcropping she'd used as a bench.

Selaras planted herself on the stone and smiled warmly at the queen. "I can't tell you what a delight it is that we finally meet. My king and queen extend their well wishes."

Kierra managed a smile of her own, just managing to stay in the here and now. "Yes, it's good to meet you too. My father spoke highly of your master, and mistress."

She tried to think of a way to familiarize herself with the mage without coming across as too reserved.

"I'll admit it was a surprise to see you here."

A sprinkle of truth in whatever front she put up.

"Yes," Selaras remarked. "It all happened very quickly. But I'm sure Overlord Azral has already filled you in on our history?"

He's been filling something...

"Indeed." Kierra nodded.

"You must have been over the moon to come back here. I trust you've enjoyed your stay?"

Something in Selaras's eyes shifted. And unless Kierra was mistaken, she thought she saw the she-elf subtly biting her lip.

"Yes. Immensely."

And there it was.

Kierra looked up, past Seleras and the guards. All the way to the gates of the Horned Keep. Where, sure enough, Azral was standing.

He was watching them both, she knew it.

Suppressing a sneer, Kierra returned her gaze to Selaras and put on a broader, more welcoming smile. She started to inquire on more of Selaras's history with the orcish lord, or the details on whatever negotiations were in place between him and the eladrin royalty. Whatever Selaras knew, soon Kierra would know it too.

Maybe Azral knew what she'd seen the night before. Maybe he didn't. Regardless, he had proven he wasn't above withholding information from her or playing with her expectations.

He liked games, Shevra had said.

Well, I can play too.

---

Astrid's bed lay in a tangled heap.

Its post was splintered, and the very frame underneath had given way. It would take the best of carpenters, and perhaps even a touch of magic to be anything resembling functional again.

Not that anyone present cared anymore. They'd left the bed as it was an hour ago.

After Shevra had properly made her acquaintance, the Swords had dragged Astrid to the middle of the room. They came together in a tangle of flesh, showering her with all the care and hospitality she could take.

Now, as the orcs treated her to one last ride, it was all Astrid could do not to collapse and pass out.

True enough, what a ride it was. Astrid knelt on the floor with Shevra behind her, Zhora beneath, and the three men standing in a circle around them. Shevra, still wearing the strap-on, was hammering her ass with a ferocity that sent Astrid into hysterics.

"Don't stop," she pleaded. "Please don't stop! Plea -Urkkh!"

She was cut off as Torin's steel grip shoved her head back down onto his cock.

"We won't," he groaned. "Don't you stop either."

On her back, Zhora buried her face in Astrid's breasts, laughing as they flopped up and down from the force of Shevra rutting behind her.

"I think the little blade's close," Zhora taunted. While she worked herself to another orgasm, she wormed her way between Astrid's quivering thighs and plunged three fingers inside the elf's sopping cunt.

"There," she grunted as her own climax hit. "Aahh, we're good and stuffed now, eh?"

A muffled squeal forced its way out of Astrid's mouth, even while Torin's rock-hard member sloppily plunged in and out. The lower half of her face was drenched with spit and precum, and her eyes were rolling like she was half-mad.

Glk-glk-glk!

When she wavered in place, Shevra answered with a hard spank.

"My captain said don't stop!" she shouted.

"Mmfffffhhh!" Astrid's voice rose to a fever pitch.

But she did as she was told. She took Torin as hard as she could down her throat and jerked the younger orcs cocks until they throbbed unbearably in her hands.

Both of them snarled and cursed in their native tongue. Each could barely stand, with Astrid's pleasurable touch drawing them nearer to the end.

Astrid's tongue, meanwhile, slavered over the pulsing mass in her mouth. Her jaw slackened, and streams of drool and precum escaped.

Gluggh! Gluggh! Gluggh!

Shevra and Torin locked eyes. They were almost there, both could feel it.

In a loud clap of flesh against flesh, Shevra doubled the force and pace of her thrusts. Torin matched her pace, seizing both sides of Astrid's head and using her mouth as he'd used her pussy.

Shevra hissed like a wildcat and clapped both hands on Astrid's rump, leaving behind two dark handprints.

Astrid's petite body shook violently from the force with which they fucked her. Her hands were a blur, and her voice broke through finally even with Torin blocking her way.

"Ugghh mmmuhh guhddsss!"

"What?" Shevra asked mockingly. "Do you want to come?"

Astrid's frenzied answer came in a series of choked, gurgling screams.

"Wnna cmm! Wnna cmm! Uuggh wnna CMMHH!!!"

Shevra's mouth parted in a wild, yowling cry. It all struck her at once. The white-hot pleasure summoned by the tool between her legs. The satisfaction of watching her precious little knight collapse like putty in her hands.

As she came, so did Torin. He jerked and erupted in Shevra's mouth, and a burst of hot cum poured out the sides of her mouth or down her gullet. Torin swayed in place, almost toppling over until he found steady footing and shook himself fully conscious once more.

The Twins were next. The second Torin withdrew, their girthy cocks sprayed over Astrid's blank face, from her blushing cheeks to her open mouth and lolling tongue.

Astrid's body seized up. A black haze fell over her. One last mind-numbing orgasm reduced her to a limp mess in the orcs' arms.

Rarely had she ever known such bliss.

"Coming..." she moaned. "I'm coming..."

From somewhere above her she heard Shevra answer. "I know, darling."

Darling, now. Not 'pet'.

Astrid felt Shevra's lips again, on her brow and on her cheek.

"You were perfect."

Tenderly, the orcs wiped her down. Each of them gave her a kiss and murmured kind, comforting words to her.

And before she knew it, Astrid was lying on her wreck of a bed again. Her head rested on Shevra's lap, while Torin sat beside them and stroked his fingers through her long white hair.

They would get back to the others, Astrid heard them say. When they were ready.

For now, Astrid was to rest and enjoy their hospitality a little while longer.

Meanwhile the Red Widow looked in the direction of her master's throne room. She wondered how long it would take before he made his move.

If Queen Kierra's knights were such fun to play with, one could only imagine the moment their queen decided to join in.

---

Whew.

That took a heck of a turn, now didn't it?

I told you Shevra and "Gilda" were to be of some importance. Whether or not he knows about Kierra's little snooping episode, Azral seems more than content to mess with her.

But she can give as good as she gets. The question is, how long can the two keep finding ways to tease each other?

Something's got to give. One way or another.

With sweet Astrid having given in, Azral's sexed-up warriors are ready to keep going.

The Red Widows are on the prowl. And poor Milius won't know what hit him.

Post any and all thoughts below, and I'll see you next time.