DsGSilver 782 Posted April 20, 2021 Popular Post Share Posted April 20, 2021 (edited) So, some of you that read Journey to Arnwick might recall that I mentioned something of a spiritual successor. At long last, here it is: The Warband! Following the efforts of a legendary knight as she battles an evil horde of corrupted warriors. And virtually everyone along the way craps their pants. And, at the bottom of this post will be some art of our heroine, Arryl, done by the one and only Livinginfinite (link to his Pixiv). Hope you enjoy! This one's been a long time coming. The Warband Chapter 1: Into the Fray Selena had witnessed not one, but two legends on the same day. She’d heard the rumors of Khan Kora, and her fell army. The legion of savage warriors rampaging across the land, bringing city after city to their knees. The disparate tales could never agree on what became of the Khan’s victims; some say that she has them all massacred, leaving no survivors; others warn that you’ll be taken as a slave. The stories of an army of monster-men, one that entire nations crumbled before… It was something Selena did not believe. Just some tall tale that became far more famous than it deserved to be. Likewise, she did not put much stock into the legends of the knightess Arryl. A warrior endowed with divine might and purpose, driving back the dark hordes of the Khan’s army. Fearless, peerless, and undefeated in combat, Arryl was reputed as being a holy savior of the realm. Naturally, Selena figured the comforting myth of Arryl was simply in response to the frightening myth of Kora. Selena would have staked her home on these legends being nothing more than stories… until the day the Khan’s armies arrived, and tore her home apart. And on that fateful day, when a nightmare of mythic status waged war upon her people, who should appear to challenge them but another myth… ----------------------------------- Screaming… That was all Selena could hear. The other sounds- the fires, the clashing of metal, the chaos of warfare- all of it seemed so quiet compared to the screaming just outside of her house. The invaders had descended on them so quickly, in under an hour they’d breached the city walls. Their fury tore through the city impossibly- inhumanly- swiftly. Selena was no fighter, and neither was her daughter, Colline. Panicked and afraid, all she could think to do was grab a knife from her kitchen, then hide with Colline in the back of the house. Her daughter shivered beside her, and Selena pulled her in closer. Driven by the fear of what may come, she found herself staring at her daughter's face. The apple truly did not fall far from the tree; Colline looked just like her: dark skin, a freckled face, pale green eyes, long, black hair. Indeed, the largest visual distinction between them was their style of dress. Selena wore a white and green dress, whereas Colline always preferred to dress in a tunic and pants, as she had then. Her daughter had always been tomboyish. All throughout her youth, she’d picked fights with the boys and, as far as Selena knew, won more than lost. Even as a young adult, violence and physical labor never frightened her. But now? Now, tears streamed down her face, and she couldn’t stop shaking. The two of them knelt together, on their knees. She swore that she would protect her daughter, but Selena wasn’t completely certain that her own legs would function. The screaming outside came to an end, but the silence was all the more dreadful. Wood splintered beyond the room they took refuge in- the door had been smashed to pieces. Colline sobbed loudly, holding onto her mother as tightly as possible. Selena heard the pitter-patter of water falling to the floor, and wondered if her bladder had begun emptying itself. She looked down, but her skirt was dry. Beside her, however, the crotch of Colline’s sky-blue pants darkened as they were saturated with urine. Her daughter- a grown woman of twenty years- had wet herself in fear. A puddle grew underneath her as the urine spilled from the rear of her trousers to the floor. Her heart ached for her poor daughter; no one should have to endure that kind of terror or shame. “Shh, shh,” She tried to soothe her daughter’s fears and unquiet crying, lest they be heard, “Don’t be afraid Colline, I won’t let them hurt you.” Colline made a choked sound, whatever it was she wanted to say stolen by a tearful hiccup. She took a deep breath, and held ever more tightly to her mother. She knew the poor thing was using every last ounce of her willpower to control her crying. Heavy footsteps strode through their home. She could hear furniture being tossed aside. A door was kicked in. They were looking for people. People to kill or enslave. A voice, thick with murderous intent and distorted by vile magic, shouted suddenly, “Only cowards hide!!” as another door was destroyed. There were only so many rooms. He would find them very soon. “Colline, sweetie, hide under the bed.” “But, Mom-” Her voice was strained. “Hide, Colline!” Selena snapped. Reluctantly, her daughter nodded, and crawled under the bed. “Last chance!” The voice was eager, excited for the slaughter, “Come on out and I’ll make it quick!” Selena clutched the knife in a trembling hand. The head of an axe broke through the door, and she could not suppress the scream that left her throat. “Found you!” The man laughed, “Shoulda listened! Now I’m gonna do this nice and slow.” “Stay back!” Selena called out to him, pointing the knife at the door. Tears blurred her vision, and she felt wetness race down her thighs. Her long bloomers were drenched as her bladder voided in fear. The front of her dress grew wet and warm as a stain materialized, and numerous streams fell from her bloomers onto the ground, creating another puddle next to Colline’s. With another slash of his axe, the door gave way, revealing the murderer: A tall, muscular man with pale red skin. He wore black trousers and boots, no shirt. His pupils were yellow, and the whites of his eyes had turned black. His hair was a deep blue. Across his body, thin, wiry things that looked like veins covered him. A monster-man, just as the stories spoke of. He laughed cruelly, “That’s it, piss yourself! Be afraid!” He hefted his large, serrated axe, “Come on, beg for me! Beg for your worthless life! If you do, I just might let you come with me, heheheh… ” His eyes settled on the kitchen knife, “Oh ho, that’s your weapon, huh?” He spread his arms wide, “Come on, then! I’ll give you one shot!” Selena stood motionless, paralyzed with fear, “Come on!” He screamed. Compelled to take the chance he’d arrogantly given her, she surged forward, and drove the knife into the man’s chest. For only a second, as she thought she’d slain the intruder, she smiled. When the man did not topple over, though, the fear returned. Flashing her a fanged grin, the man gripped the knife, and slid it out of his body, dropping it to the ground. Some brackish blood oozed from the wound, but he seemed unfazed by it. Selena stepped back in disbelief. “My turn,” He intoned in a ruthless voice. Hefting his axe, her stepped towards her. In a flash of motion, Colline emerged from under the bed, and sprinted for the door. “Colline!” Selena screamed. “Huh?!” The man exclaimed in surprise, but his look of shock quickly transitioned to one of joy. Colline fled through their ruined home, making for the city streets, “Help! Help!” she called. “Hey, come back!” The killer shouted, giving chase, “I have some ideas for some family bonding!” Summoning all of her courage, Selena willed her legs to carry her, and she stumbled after them. Outside the house, her daughter screamed, and she picked up her pace. The killer had tackled her to the ground, and subdued her. “Get off of her!” Selena prepared to pounce on the man, ready to punch, kick, bite, anything to try and protect her daughter. But she didn’t get the chance. Like a steel-gray bolt of lightning, someone charged and struck him with a warhammer. Bones cracked and splintered, and he flew backwards, impacting the wall of the house. He groaned in pain, and fell to the ground. Even through a blow like that, he lived, and tried to pick himself back up. The knight brought their mighty hammer up, and then down. With a grisly sound, the killer’s head was dashed across the dirt. Selena hurried to her daughter, noting with sympathy that there was a brown bulge in the seat of her pants, and pulled her into a loving embrace. Colline absentmindedly returned the hug, but was more focused on the resplendent figure before them. Once she’d helped her daughter to her feet, Selena turned to their savior, “Oh God, bless you. Thank you, thank you so much.” The knight, or knightess, rather, was a large and powerful figure. She was tall, clad in resplendent armor. It seemed shaped specifically to her body, and alluded to a strong and capable physique. She wore no helmet, revealing a youthful and stunningly beautiful face. Her skin was pale, and her hair was snow white, hanging in frizzy tangles down just past her ears. In one hand she held a colossal hammer, inscribed with glowing golden runes. “Are there any other survivors here?” The lady knight asked, voice filled with purpose. “Uh, um, I couldn’t say. My daughter and I have been hiding,” “I understand. Go to my knights, they’ll see you to safety,” She pointed with her unarmed hand down the street. For the first time, Selena noticed several other knights advancing down the road. All around them lay fallen invaders. “Th-thank you,” Colline meekly whispered. Taking her daughter’s hand, Selena hurried to the knights, to the promise of safety. One of them stopped their advance and gestured for them to hurry up. “This way,” the knight called out, “We’ve secured the north district, get over there!” ----------------------------------- Arryl sighed with relief. She’d found survivors, and gotten them to safety. Such a thing was a rare luxury when the Khan struck so suddenly, as she had that day. Seeing both the survivors had wet themselves, she silently regarded her own “underwear.” After soiling her armor more times than she could count, Arryl had eventually just turned to wearing more absorbent clothes underneath her armor. While the heavy metal certainly did a stellar job of keeping her accidents a secret, she’d grown quite tired of having to scrub the insides of her legplates. Inspecting herself as best she could through the armor, she ascertained that she was slightly wet. The chaos of the attack had more than once been enough to startle a leak or two out of her, but she’d remained mostly dry this day. A small blessing, but a welcome one. Her knights caught up to her, one of them asking, “Your orders, ma’am?” “Continue down the street, search for survivors and kill any of the horde you can see. The enemy should withdraw soon, and I must check with Omila.” “Understood!” The knights nodded, and continued their march deeper into the city. Arryl turned back towards streets they’d already secured. The Khan’s horde rarely lingered in an area; they struck suddenly, and without warning, claimed their prizes, then vanished. They would soon depart from this place, leaving only burned homes and shattered lives in their wake. Omila, Arryl’s master ranger, had proven instrumental in monitoring the horde’s movements and predicting where they would strike next. She knew she was on the right track when she came upon arrow-riddled horde bodies. Following the ranger’s trail led her to the roof of a large building. Having learned her lesson the hard way more than once before, Arryl was very careful to announce, “Omila, coming up behind you!” before she had stepped fully out onto the roof. She’d been on the receiving end of enough of her arrows to last a lifetime. “Huh?” The energetic archer whirled about, still caught off guard by Arryl’s warning. For a creature with such good hearing, Omila really did have trouble listening. She was a vulpin, a race of fox-like humans. Unlike some other, more animalistic races, the vulpin’s physical differences were limited to clawed fingers, sharp fangs, long tails, and large fox ears. Omila herself was a short, fit woman. Her hair was a vibrant reddish-orange, increasing her resemblance to a fox. In order to free up her movement, the only armor she wore was a leather tunic. Beyond that was a green cape whose hood was almost never used, since her large ears did not fit inside of it, and some tan shorts. “Where are they going?” The vulpin turned and pointed to the west, “They mostly struck merchants and warehouses. Stocking up for a journey to somewhere else.” “Casualties?” Arryl’s least favorite part of any report. “Thankfully, not terrible. Some knights are gone, but most of my archers are unharmed. This was likely just a small detachment sent to raid this place.” “Have you seen or heard from Ravein?” The elven assassin had a habit of going her own way during battles. “Not since the fighting started. She’s probably off doing what she does best.” “I see. How are you holding up?” “Not hurt,” Omila casually answered, looking out over the city and not at Arryl. “Not what I meant.” “You know how I’m holding up, Miss Arryl,” Omila’s expression soured. The knight didn’t respond, only giving the vulpin a sympathetic look. Years ago, she’d only narrowly saved Omila from a raid that took everything from the young archer. The carnage and destruction the Khan brought with her weighed especially hard on Omila, and Arryl knew that the ranger would spend the next day or two sulking over it. “Looks like the horde is primarily leaving through that exit,” The archer gestured off into the distance. Even with her regular human eyes, Arryl could see the large mass of troops filing out of the city. An excellent opportunity to bleed them, and cut down many of their warriors without much of a fight. Lifting her warhammer, Arryl made for the streets once more. She was a galvanizing presence for her soldiers, and a force of nature on the battlefield. When armies needed to be felled, Arryl was the one needed, and she would answer the call. ------------------------- The sound made by Vengeance, Arryl’s hammer, was not natural. It tore through flesh and bone just as easily as the air, and it howled in a harsh, ethereal screech as it did so. Like her armor, and, indeed, her own body, the weapon had been infused with holy power; transforming it into a divine instrument no foe could withstand. Even the Khan’s horde understood the danger. Most of the time, they knew to give Arryl a wide berth, and to only engage her when absolutely necessary. Most of the time. But then there were others, like the raider who sprinted for her, his own warhammer dragging in the dirt behind him. The weapon was drenched in blood, he’d killed civilians or knights with it. She glared at him, waiting for her moment to strike. When at last he was close enough, he channeled all his strength into lifting his colossal weapon… Only for Arryl to swing Vengeance impossibly fast, virtually erasing the man’s upper body from existence. A few raiders behind him witnessed the display of her strength, and stopped in their tracks. For one of them, it cost them their life as Lyza, one of Arryl’s top lieutenants, seized the opportunity and impaled him on her sword. For most of the horde, defeat was something they were unfamiliar with. When their unholy strength faltered, the only thing left in them to take its place was terror. The remaining raiders stood paralyzed momentarily, unsure of whether to flee or press the attack. Arryl and Lyza answered for them by advancing forward. Behind the two women, more of the knights arrived to reinforce their push. One of the raiders- a woman wearing tattered and singed clothes- began wetting herself rather forcefully. Between her legs fell a waterfall of urine that splashed noisily to the ground. She glanced down in disbelief, then turned and fled for her life. Her comrade in front of her was not so fortunate; when he turned to see the other’s cowardice, he was swiftly struck down by Lyza. “Knights!” Arryl called, “Behind those buildings! Flank them, and cut off their escape!” Each of the armored soldiers shouted their assent, and followed her orders. “Lyza,” She turned to her old friend, “There could be a commander here. I want you by my side to make sure we kill them.” “Of course, my lady,” the swordswoman answered with a little bow. Lyza was Arryl’s oldest friend and ally, having been with her for years before the Khan’s appearance. She was a bit shorter than Arryl, and had much more tan skin. Her hair was black, and cut very short. She wore thin, light armor over her torso, forearms, and the lower halves of her legs. All areas not covered by white plate were shrouded by loose black cloth. In one hand she clutched a longsword, the other was always left empty. Together, the two set off to do battle with the bulk of the horde. Arryl noticed with annoyance that the space between her legs had grown wetter. She still could not say for certain when she had leaked, only that she had. ----------------- Omila bounded from rooftop to rooftop, stopping only occasionally to snipe a raider with deadly accuracy. All around her, her archers were doing the same, creating a lethal and precise rain of arrows. While Arryl ensured the horde was repelled from the city, she had been taking care of any who thought to linger. “Someone! Help!” a shrill scream caught her attention. Omila looked to its source, seeing a woman fleeing for her life from a stray raider. She loosed an arrow immediately, and it pierced the man’s thigh. He grumbled, more in annoyance than pain, and slowed his pace. With the grace afforded to her by her peerless agility, Omila leapt from the rooftop, landing between the raider and the woman. He swung a sword, aiming for her neck. She ducked her head and backstepped, loosing an arrow as she did. This one found a home in his chest, but he still did not die. He dove for the young vulpin, unleashing a wild flurry of strikes. Once she’d been backed up against a wall, and the killer thought his victory was certain, she jumped high, clear over his desperate attack. On the way down, she took one final shot, planting the arrow in his skull. At last, he was no more. “Thank you, miss-” The survivor began to say with a shaking voice, but Omila cut her off. “Don’t thank! Just go!” She pointed towards the center of the city, to safety. The woman stammered a bit in surprise, but quickly took Omila’s advice. As she did so, the vulpin could plainly see the woman’s heavily saturated and browned pants. Worse yet, she could smell it with her enhanced senses. As much as she liked to save people and help them to safety, it was still one of her least favorite assignments, as her keen eyes and nose did not let her miss a single pair of wet or soiled trousers. And those were never in short supply. She climbed back up to the rooftop, but felt her knees go weak when she saw what had entered the city as she was distracted. A wyvern- a large draconic monster- ridden by a mighty warrior. It soared across the sky, not terribly far from her position. It roared, and with its rider’s command, spewed fire across nearly a dozen buildings. Omila’s sensitive ears picked up the distinct sound of splashing water, and once the numbness of fear had faded, she noticed that her legs were wet. Glancing down, her light brown shorts bore a steadily growing wetness across their front and between her thighs. The streams raced down her thin legs, filling her shoes and puddling on the ground. The warm wetness began to caress her butt, and she hurriedly reached back to ensure that she had not filled her panties as well. Mercifully, it was only urine. Once she’d finished checking the damage, she looked back to the wyvern rider. She gasped sharply as she noticed that they were headed straight for Arryl. Omila broke into a sprint, ignoring her drenched pants and legs. She had to be there to help the paladin. ---------------- Vengeance screamed as it severed one half of a raider from the other. Beside Arryl, Lyza and several knights battled the horde. They were winning, but exhaustion was taking hold. The horde had slowed its withdrawal, perhaps sensing the growing fatigue of the city’s defenders. Not wanting to give them such an impression, Arryl charged forward with a powerful battlecry. Smashing into a group of raiders and knocking them to the ground, Arryl brought Vengeance down upon them, crushing the life out of them. Another sweep of the weapon destroyed another horde soldier. Taking her by surprise, a raider swung a greatsword at her, and Arryl blocked the strike with her hammer mere instants before it could cleave her skull open. Between her legs her piss spilled freely out of her, soaking into the garment. The hot liquid caressed her groin, then made its way to her rear. She shoved herself and her weapon forward, throwing the attacker back. Her thighs pressed together with the movement, and she groaned as she felt her urine escape the absorbent underwear and flow down her legs in little trickles. As with the hammer-wielding raider earlier, this one thought he could match Arryl’s speed, and it would be his last mistake. Vengeance obliterated his body before his sword was even mid-swing. Holding the momentum of that kill, she continued forward, bashing apart any raider fool enough to come too close to her. Lyza and the knights began to surround and envelop the enemies. Arrows flew silently through the air, pelting the horde. Victory was all but certain, until they heard a nightmarish roar above them. A black wyvern, big enough to eat a man whole, flew above them. As it roared, it bathed the path behind them in flame, cutting off any escape Arryl might have had. She heard the squelching coming from her own rear, and she felt the result immediately. Seeing the beast, and feeling the heat of the fire, her bowels surrendered their contents immediately, spilling out into her underwear. She could feel that the release was not entirely firm, and it stretched and filled the garment as much as her armor would allow. The mess spread and grew, until it felt as though a grapefruit sat between her skin and her underwear. Beside her, two knights were clearly frightened just as much. From the sounds of their voices, Arryl was sure both of them were women. On her left, the knight very audibly soiled herself. To the right, the knight was pissing hard on herself. Drops of urine spilled from every crack and gap in her legplates. Even Lyza stiffened and blushed slightly. Arryl recognized the grimace her friend made whenever she soiled herself, and it was the expression she wore then. The paladin uttered a quick prayer under her breath, preparing to raise a magical shield to defend them from the wyvern’s next breath of fire… but it never came. Instead, the beast landed with earthshaking force, and the rider climbed down. Even with a momentary glance, it was clear that the rider was the architect of this attack. A tall, fierce woman, with the light red skin of the Khan’s horde. Wild, tangled pink hair flowed down to the middle of her back. Like many others, she wore no true armor, only black garments that covered her chest and legs. In each hand she carried a serrated longsword. “The mighty Arryl… ” The wyvern rider spoke in a voice just as sultry as it was murderous, “I cannot wait to feed your remains to my pet,” she rubbed the wyvern’s nose, a gesture it apparently appreciated, given that it leaned into it like a cat. “You won’t be the first of your horde to die so pointlessly,” Arryl strode forward, ahead of her comrades, “You won’t be the last.” “Oh ho!” The rider’s face was a cruel sneer, “Come on, then. Find out why they call me Tezha the Torturer!” Arrogance. Arrogance to wear no armor. Arrogance to challenge Arryl to single combat when her wyvern could’ve burned Arryl’s forces alive. The fell energy that surged through the horde’s veins filled them with incomparable pride. Arryl knew how to keep a level head; how to stay in her right mind. She knew to remain humble. The dozens of times she’d completely soiled her panties in fear certainly helped to curb any ego issues she faced. Even as she walked towards Tezha, her underwear soaked to the point of spilling out onto her legs, and filled to the brim with her own mess, she managed to stay calm in spite of the fear within her. She did not doubt for a second that Tezha would command her wyvern to strike the moment she began to lose the fight, so Arryl tried to position herself carefully, to make it difficult for the wyvern to move without injuring its master as well. With a bloodcurdling scream, Tezha surged forward, the blade in her right hand coming down in an overhead strike. Raising her left arm, Arryl blocked the attack with her gauntlet. To her shock, she did not just shrug off the hit as she had expected- the sword bit into her armor deeply, and she was pushed back by the force of it. What she did expect, however, was the next attack as Tezha swung her off-hand weapon horizontally. Arryl parried the slash with her hammer. Both womens’ hands were occupied, so Arryl raised her leg and delivered a powerful kick to Tezha’s gut. She was propelled backwards, landing on the snout of her wyvern. With a surprisingly gentle motion, the dragon nudged her back into the fight. The beast glared at Arryl, evidently not too happy at her treatment of its master. The reptilian eyes bored into her, and she felt the garment between her legs grow warm once again, more urine frightened out of her. Tezha recuperated immediately, and lunged forward. She brought down both of her swords, both blades seeking the exposed flesh of Arryl’s neck. The paladin was quick on her feet, hopping back to dodge the strike. She retaliated with a mighty swing of her hammer, only for Tezha to easily dodge the attack; a feat most of the Khan’s pets couldn’t manage. Arryl’s surprise must’ve shown on her face, as Tezha sneered. Out of the corner of her eye, Arryl noticed a subtle and quiet movement, as if a shadow had jumped independent of its owner. For anyone unfamiliar with Ravein, such a motion would’ve been imperceptible and would have seemed unimportant anyway. For Arryl, it meant that the fight had already ended, and that she had won. The elven assassin only made the most deliberate, well-planned, and far-reaching attacks. She just had to keep the general and her wyvern distracted, and she was confident Ravein would take care of the rest. To that end, Arryl charged forward, preparing to ram Tezha. With a sadistic cackle, the fell warrior swung her blades. This time, it was Tezha’s turn to be surprised. Blocking one blade with her hammer, Arryl’s other arm rocketed upwards, grabbing the sword by the blade. The general was stunned; anyone else who had attempted such a thing had been cleaved apart when their armor failed to stop her. Arryl yanked the weapon from her hand, then barreled into her with her shoulder, throwing her to the ground. For all her pride, if Tezha had any doubts remaining that Arryl was the mightier warrior, they’d been soundly crushed. Having put many others through this same realization, Arryl knew that this was the point of the fight where her enemy would fight desperately, dirty, and dishonorably. At any second, Tezha would give the command for her wyvern to feast, or breathe fire. “All that bluster,” The paladin began, towering over Tezha, “Only to get tossed around like a ragdoll. Surrender, and this place doesn’t have to be your grave.” “Ha!” Tezha barked out a laugh, though there was no mirth in her hard expression, “Playing with you has been entertaining, but now I think it’s time to cut you into ribbons!” Her sentence ended with a ferocious shriek as she rose to her feet and thrust her remaining sword upwards, looking to impale Arryl through the jaw. Her dodge was slow, and she had not anticipated the general’s speed- the same mistake made by countless enemies against herself. The serrated blade sliced the edge of her chin and nose. Keeping her momentum, Tezha delivered strike after strike, each one a lethal attack if not dodged. Behind some debris from a collapsed house, another shadow moved, this one much more easily spotted- a charitable gesture from Ravein, who made it easier for Arryl to notice despite the hail of deadly blows. She had a feeling she knew what the elf wanted to do. From somewhere inexplicable, a single rock fell to the ground- hardly anomalous in a battlefield, which is what made it Ravein’s favored sign. She was ready. For a crucial moment, the paladin lowered her defenses, and met Tezha’s offence with her own. Hammer and sword collided, and the victor was obvious. The foul blade snapped and shattered like glass, showering them both with metal splinters. The general was in utter disbelief, and did not even make any attempt to dodge when Arryl drove Vengeance into her stomach. For the third time in a single fight, the horde commander was thrown backwards, only this time with no more weapons. That is, except for the one massive, wyvern-shaped one. She laughed a low, menacing laugh. She stood, hands clutching her bruised midsection. “Anarri!” She shouted, causing the monster to perk up, “Kill her! Eat her!!” The wyvern roared and reared back, colossal wings flapping. But then a cry of fear stole the dragon’s attention. Its beloved master was in the grip of an elven assassin, whose poison-tipped daggers were pressed against the warlord’s throat. Arryl had always been grateful that Ravein was not their enemy; if she’d had to choose which was more frightening, Khan Kora’s entire horde or this single elf, she would have to vote for Ravein. The violent and psychopathic rage of the horde was not nearly as terror-inducing as the assassin’s unbreakable, silent composure. The still, unconcerned look on her face. The fact that she’d been fighting and killing horde warriors all day, and not a single hair was out of place, not a single drop of blood stained her leather armor. Even though she could not see her attacker, the general must’ve felt Ravein’s quiet, murderous intent just through her touch. Her lips quivered, and her legs shook a little before her knees buckled together. Her bladder emptied, the hot urine streaming down her legs. The stains were not easy to see on her black pants, but they were there. A strong stream fell from her crotch and splattered on the ground, the droplets flying from the impact and wetting both women’s shoes. Ravein would be furious. She’d gone all day without getting dirty only for the last enemy to piss on her. “Make your pet behave itself,” The assassin’s cold voice was only just above a whisper, and she emphasized her point by pressing her dagger’s tip against Tezha’s throat. The general swallowed hard, “Anarri… Down.” The wyvern was an intelligent creature, and seemed to understand what was happening. It obeyed its master, lowering to the ground and looking as non-threatening as a hulking killing machine could possibly look. “Smart. Now get rid of it.” Tezha was seriously weighing her options, and didn’t speak immediately. Only when Ravein’s dagger drew ever nearer to breaking skin did she say, “Anarri… Go home. I’ll be back soon.” She fixed her eyes on Arryl, “I assume your offer to surrender is still on the table?” The paladin nodded. The wyvern looked sick with worry, and bared its fangs. “No, Anarri! Go home.” With a sad, grumbling growl, it obeyed. Sparing one last glance at its master, it took off into the air. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the creature to return and rain fire on them. When nothing happened, and the sky was clear, the knights all began moving once again. Ravein shoved Tezha forward, onto her stomach. As Arryl stepped closer to secure their capture of the enemy general, she noticed that Tezha had done more than just wet herself. A brown stain had spread across her backside, with a telling bulge in the center. The smell was strong, and she did not blame the elf when she hastily took many steps away. “We don’t capture many horde soldiers,” Arryl said as she crouched down in front of her, “I’m very excited to see what secrets you can tell us.” ------------------------------------------ And that's it for chapter 1, but here's that art: Edited August 31, 2021 by DsGSilver (see edit history) Asuna.bed.wet., blooper, quicksort and 12 others 13 1 1 Quote Link to comment
Guest JackFrost16 Posted April 21, 2021 Share Posted April 21, 2021 Yet another incredible story. This is looking like the start of another amazing series. I can’t wait to see what happens next! Quote Link to comment
Melificentfan 1,215 Posted April 21, 2021 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted April 21, 2021 Loved that first chapter I’m looking forward to read what will happen next DsGSilver 1 Quote Link to comment
trekkie 1,098 Posted April 21, 2021 Share Posted April 21, 2021 I know this is going to be another good one! DsGSilver 1 Quote Link to comment
DuffMan 516 Posted March 18, 2023 Share Posted March 18, 2023 Audio version (Of abridged segment) DsGSilver, bobertson and Bismiris 3 Quote Link to comment
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