Chapter 19

“The Dawn will shatter before the rising of the Sun.”
-Ancient saying in some parts of Ekistair. Origin unknown.
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‘The days are growing shorter,’ Shenla thought to herself as the sun disappeared behind the western mountains that lined the coast of Palistair, stretching from Amindaer in the south all the way to the frozen wastes in the far north. Lightning flickered in the distance to the south, heralding yet another thunderstorm.

The storms had been frequent and savage, rolling across this land once every few days, bringing gales, twisters, lightning and torrential rain. Somehow, the raging tempests never seemed to adversely affect the army of Dark Elves and Risen that Maloth had camped on the plain north of Amindaer.

To her right strode Barrog, her hulking nine-foot Orc easily keeping pace with the horses despite being on foot. To her left was Peldin, her slender but strong Mor’elda, with his midnight black skin in sharp contrast to the snow-white hair that he kept tied back. To her rear was Torvin, her muscular Human Warden, black-cloaked and head shorn of hair with his buxom Risen minion in tow.

These men were bound to Shenla as her ahk’sheth, and they would happily die for her if she asked them to, though she would only do that in the direst of need; if they died, she would be reduced to near-death herself, and that was not something she wished to experience ever again.

Like Maloth, the more souls Shenla bound, the stronger she would grow, but in turn she would have to keep her pets sustained. If her men were not able to fuck her at least once every moon, they would start to get sick, and eventually die. Currently she only had these three, but she was looking for additional suitable candidates. Maloth’s strength had grown significantly since he’d bound his fifth soul, and Shenla wanted a taste of that power.

In the back of her mind, Shenla wondered how many souls she could bind and keep sustained. How many men could she fuck in a month? She smiled as she considered that. The number would be quite high; she was a Demon of lust, after all. For now, however, she would do as Maloth was doing, and only bind high quality pets that were worthy of serving her.

She had done that with her three present companions to great success. Peldin had been a guard captain before she claimed him; the Dark Elf fought well, and he fucked even better. Torvin was a high-ranking Mor’tirith - a Warden of the Dead – from the ancient city of Angavar, and Barrog had been a raid leader among his Orc people, which was fortunate, as Shenla was currently riding into Gor’dur Orc territory to seek audience with the Chief.

Barrog said the Gor’dur were fiercely territorial, and he was surprised they hadn’t already begun to skirmish with Maloth’s army. Maloth had sent Shenla in the hope that an accord could be reached before the Orcs attacked; ‘accord’ meaning that Shenla would be seducing the Chief and strongly suggesting that the Orcs join with Maloth. Having Barrog with her would hopefully increase her status with the rest of the Orc people.

They were riding across a vast expanse of hard, stony ground toward a narrow chasm in the mountain barely wide enough for three riders abreast. Barrog said the chasm opened up on the other side into a large series of caverns.

“We are getting close,” Barrog growled in his guttural, bass voice. “They will know we are here, now.” Shenla scanned the mountains, but saw nothing. The chasm opening was still several hundred yards away.

“Will they be friendly?” Peldin murmured as he studied the rocky landscape.

“We are still alive,” Barrog replied. “That is a good sign.”

Torvin grunted from behind them and began to whisper something in another language until Shenla rounded on him. “No spells!” She hissed. “I want them to trust us enough to let us meet with the Chief!”

Torvin stopped immediately. “As you wish, Mistress. You should know, however, that the Gor’dur are savages, and cannot be trusted.”

“This is correct,” Peldin agreed, fingering the hilt of the longsword he carried at his hip.

Barrog shot them both a glare. “You know nothing, fools!”

Shenla had had enough of this. “Quiet!” She snapped. Just for good measure, she tweaked the link between their souls and hers, like pulling on a thread of cotton, to remind them of who owned them. The men remained silent after that.

Why did she have such trouble with her pets when Maloth never seemed to? Truthfully, she liked having strong, willful men in her possession. It meant they had spirit, and were worthy of her. Besides, they really weren’t difficult to put back into line, when necessary.

“Something approaches,” Peldin said, his pointed black ears twitching fitfully.

“War drums,” Barrog said uneasily, easing his huge axe from the loop on his back.

Sure enough, the ground soon began to vibrate with the booming of distant drums, and Orcs boiled forth from the chasm, their long legs covering ground quickly as they charged toward the party of four. Shenla drew reign and commanded her pets to halt and leave their weapons sheathed.

As they exited the pass, the impressive mass of Orcs formed into an organised column six abreast while never losing step. When they drew closer, Shenla could make them out individually, their fierce faces painted with stripes and patterns of red, their weapons glinting in the moonlight. Shenla smiled when she saw that the hulking brutes wore very little; the men wore simple loincloths that did nothing to restrain their loins as they ran, and Shenla was greeted by the sight of hundreds of bouncing Orc cocks running toward her. What a treat! The women wore similar garb, with the addition of a few straps of cloth to contain their mighty breasts.

Soon enough, the column reached Shenla’s small group and, without slowing, split down the middle, surrounding the visitors before closing the split on the other side. Barrog, Torvin and Peldin put their backs to Shenla, but left their weapons sheathed, as she had commanded.

The Orcs formed a tight circle, spear tips pointed inward. Long moments passed before a huge Orc pushed through the ranks. He was taller even than Barrog, and his dark green skin bulged with rippling muscles. Two large tusks jutted from his lower lip, reaching almost up to his wide, flat nose. His eyes were hard, but there was intelligence in his stare. A huge hammer was strapped to his back, one side of the head flat, the other shaped into a cruel spike.

Shenla felt herself grow moist as she eyed him up and down, particularly the way his heavy cock shifted back and forth beneath his loincloth as he moved.

The Orc pointed a finger at her. “What are you doing here, woman?”

Smiling, Shenla undid the clasp of her cloak and let it fall back over her horse’s rump. She had dressed specifically for this occasion, in nothing more than thin straps of leather. It was rather an excellent design, one that she had gotten from a male Warden who like to dress his Risen in such a fashion. A strap ran over each shoulder, connecting to another than ran across the front of her breasts and behind her back. A vertical strap ran from the horizontal strap, down her belly, over her rapidly moistening pussy and back up through her buttocks to connect to the strap at her back. Not only did it draw the eye of every male who breathed, but it felt good to wear, too.

The big Orc’s eyes roved over her body, and Shenla didn’t miss the twitch beneath his loincloth. “Who are you?” He asked, his eyes still hard.

“I am Shenla, sister to Lord Maloth the Corruptor, who now leads the Mor’elda of Eredor, the Amun’noroth of Orris, and the Mor’tirith of Angavar. He wished for me to visit the Gor’dur Orcs and extend our ... respects ... to your people.”

The big Orc thought for a moment, his eyes studying the way her breasts moved as she breathed. “Ha!” He said finally. “Cowardly Elves, a handful of Giants and some corpse-fuckers! Not such a grand force, I think!”

Chuckles spread through the Orc ranks at their leader’s joke. Barrog had been on the other side of Shenla’s horse, out of sight of the Orc leader, but now he stepped out. “You might be surprised, Garrun,” he said quietly.

Garrun’s eyes widened as he recognised Barrog, then they narrowed as his brow drew down. “Barrog! You have some stones, coming back here after deserting your tribe!”

“I did not desert!” Barrog growled. “I was taken, and now I belong to Shenla!”

Garrun spat on the ground at Barrog’s feet. “You are pathetic, Barrog. You abandoned your people for a foreign whore! You will not be leaving this place alive, traitor!” Garrun reached for his hammer, and Barrog’s hand went for the axe on his back.

Shenla wondered in that moment if perhaps she should bind Garrun; he was large and strong, and he had at least some intelligence about him. No, she would not make this decision now. She would watch this Garrun for a little longer to see what kind of Orc he was before she made up her mind. Taking a deep breath, Shenla reached out with her power and enveloped the Orc leader in dark lust, including as many other male Orcs she could reach, which turned out to be quite a few; her powers were growing.

Grunts and exclamation rippled through their ranks as Orc cocks began to rise. The leader was no different; his loincloth was now standing out at a right angle, and his huge chest was rising and falling with the arousal coursing through him.

Garrun’s eyes left Barrog and locked onto Shenla, his enormous erection pulsing.

The loincloth fell away and Shenla’s pussy flooded as she beheld the thick, foot-and-a-half long Orc phallus pointed directly at her like some kind of deliciously obscene salute. She wanted to fuck this monster right now, but some self-control was necessary – for the moment, anyway.

Seeing Garrun fall under Shenla’s spell, Barrog relaxed, but kept his axe in hand and his eyes on the Orcs surrounding them, some of whom were beginning to grow distracted by the sudden wave of lust. A few had grabbed nearby females and were attempting to mate with them, some successfully, others not. One poor Orc reached for the female next to him and got a knife in his ribs for his trouble. Some of the males that were not near a female simply took themselves in hand and stroked their cocks while staring wantonly at Shenla atop her horse.

She didn’t mind; she loved the attention. “You want to fuck me, Garrun?” The brute nodded as he wrapped his huge hand around his veiny prick. “Then take me to the Chief, and I will give you pleasure like you’ve never had.”

Garrun nodded dumbly, then roared at his troops to form up. They did so – though perhaps more slowly than they would have without Shenla’s interference – and began to lope back to the chasm, keeping their guests contained within the circle of spears.

The Orcs slowed to a trot once inside the steep-sided chasm, which wound its way through the mountain for maybe half a mile before leading down beneath the earth and into a series of vast caverns. For over an hour they traversed the underground realm, which contained a bustling Orc population.

Eventually, the escort entered the largest cavern yet, a huge space with what looked like a fighting pit in the centre. Two Orcs were trading blows in the centre of the pit amid cheers and shouts from the onlookers sparsely occupying the surrounding rows of bench seats that had been cut into the rock. At the opposite end of the pit from Shenla was a dais that held two large thrones that looked to be made entirely of bones. Upon each of those thrones was a figure, though they were too far away for Shenla to make them out clearly.

The majority of the Orcs surrounding Shenla and her pets peeled away at that point, leaving only a dozen or so – Garrun included – to escort them to the dais. Upon closer inspection, the thrones were occupied by a male and female Orc respectively. The male was much smaller of stature than Shenla would have expected – she thought Orcs valued size and physical strength above all else – but the female was large and imposing, though also beautiful, in her own way.

Tall and statuesque, the female had straight black hair falling down around her deep-green face and onto her broad shoulders. She wore no clothing, and her breasts – which rivalled Shenla’s in size – sat large and proud, showing no hint of sag. She had a firm, flat stomach, wide hips and thick, strong thighs. A tiara made of fine bones adorned her head, and the black eyes beneath glittered dangerously as they fell on Shenla and her pets.

The male was short, and much less muscular than any other Orc Shenla had ever seen. He had skin the colour of mossy earth, and was probably no taller than Torvin. A crown in the same fashion as the chieftess’s tiara rested on his brow in his mane of dark hair. He was handsome enough for an Orc, Shenla supposed, but she found herself wondering how this fellow had come to be chief – he had to be the chief; who else would be sitting that throne?

“Do not let his appearance fool you, Mistress,” Barrog rumbled softly. “He is fast, and deadly, and clever.”

The diminutive chief sat back casually on his bone throne, his thighs apart to show an appendage that certainly got Shenla’s attention, resting like a green snake on the seat of the throne. She thought it might rival Garrun’s when hard.

One naked Orc attendant stood beside each throne – a female for the chieftain, and a male for the chieftess – both were young and attractive. The male was broad and strong and covered with chiseled muscle, while the female was almost willowy, for an Orc, though her breasts and hips were still generously proportioned.

The chief flicked a finger and the pretty young attendant stepped around and knelt between his legs, presenting her tight, olive-green rear to the visitors. Her smooth sex with its puffy outer lips was visible between her thighs. After a moment, her head began to make telling bobbing motions.

“So, what have you brought us, Garrun?” The chief asked in a lazy voice. For all appearances, he seemed arrogant and careless in his power, though Shenla knew better, and not just from Barrog’s warning; it was his dark eyes that she watched, and they saw everything.

Garrun stepped forward and saluted the chieftain and chieftess, thumping a huge fist to his chest. His phallus was still at full mast, and the chieftess was eyeing it interestedly. “I bring you Shenla, Chieftain. She claims to be the brother of Maloth, who now leads the armies of the Dark Elves, the Wardens, and the Hill Giants.”

“Ah, yes,” the chief said slowly, fixing his stare on Shenla. She took a deep breath to accentuate her chest, but his eyes never left her face. “The ragtag army on the Forlorn Plains. I was wondering when an emissary would appear.”

Shenla could feel the lust rising from the chief as his servant pleasured him, but his face betrayed no emotion, as if this were simply an everyday occurrence for the Orc leader. Reaching out, she touched his lust with her power as she spoke. “Mighty Chief,” she began, dismounting smoothly and sashaying toward the dais. Again, the chief’s eyes never left her face, though his breathing was growing heavier as his servant suckled him. “We do not wish to interfere with your lands or your people. My brother wants you to know that he intends to take Amindaer Fortress, and your Orcs would be an asset to this cause. There would, of course, be generous rewards offered to those who help Lord Maloth.”

The chieftess spoke then for the first time, glaring at Shenla but addressing the chief. “I say we let this Lord Maloth break his teeth on Amindaer, and then we come and sweep him and his pathetic army from Palistair entirely!”

Not for the first time, Shenla cursed the fact that her power held little to no sway over females. Mentally, she adjusted her tactics; she had intended to drop her cloak and reveal her body as she’d done earlier, but surely that would only further the chieftess’s hostility. She would have to find another way.

The chief barked laughed at that. “Such ferocity, Morana! That is one of the many reasons you are my mate.” He thought for a moment, glancing between Shenla and Morana while his hand tangled itself in his servant’s hair, forcing her further down on his cock. “Perhaps you are right, Morana. Perhaps we should allow them to attempt this ambitious feat and shatter themselves against Amindaer’s walls.” He sat forward, a knowing smile on his face. “But what if they don’t shatter?” He said quietly. “What if this Lord Maloth has discovered a way to take the city, and the Gor’dur refuse to help? Then we would have a new lord in Amindaer, one who has no love for the Orcs. What do you think, Morana?”

The chieftess frowned thoughtfully, staring at Shenla and her three pets. “It is true, my love, that we currently have a tenuous peace with Amindaer, and Markos has been honouring that thus far.” She paused for a moment and waved her attendant over. The strapping Orc stepped up beside his chieftess and she idly began to stroke his long green cock with one hand. “But Markos is a bandit at heart, and his trust can only be taken so far. I suspect one day he will betray us, regardless of whether the Gor’dur honour the pact or not.”

While Morana spoke, the chief listened, though his glittering eyes remained fixed on Shenla. His cute attendant continued to suck him all the while, offering a gentle moan every now and then. Shenla could feel the lust wafting off the girl; apparently, she enjoyed her job.

Morana continued. “I see two options, Beshok; either we trust this Shenla and her Lord Maloth and assist them in taking Amindaer, or we kill Shenla now and send a legion of Gor’dur warriors to destroy Maloth’s army. Not only would we eliminate this Maloth, but we would take down the Elves and the Wardens in one stroke, exposed as they are.”

Beshok chuckled. “Very astute, as always, Morana.”

At that moment, Beshok reached his climax, and with a grunt, began to fill his concubine’s willing mouth with his seed. Shenla used that moment of peak pleasure to strike, lashing out with her power and wrapping tendrils of lust around Beshok’s heart, tendrils that connected the Orc chief to Shenla. Not in a true binding, but it would make him very amenable to her requests. He would lust after her, desire her above all else. She’d done the same thing to king Berenor, with satisfying results.

Morana’s eyes left Shenla to watch her mate come, and her hand began stroking her servant’s thick tool more insistently. The brawny Orc grunted in pleasure, and his heavy sack began to swing between his thighs as his chieftess picked up speed. Shenla reviewed her opinion of these Orcs; she’d thought them savage brutes until she’d bound Barrog, and Barrog had shown her that there was something more to them. Meeting Beshok and Morana had only convinced her further that they were quite civilised, in a primitive sort of way. More important however, was the fact that no matter how well-spoken and intelligent they seemed to be, they were still slaves to their lust, and that was where Shenla had the most power.

Beshok’s eyes had closed during his climax, but they opened again shortly after, and a new light shone in the dark orbs; lust. The diminutive Orc gazed hotly at Shenla as if she were the only other being in the world. The chief roughly shoved his servant aside, revealing his rampant erection, the thick green rod reaching almost to his chest and glistening with the Orc girl’s saliva. “The Gor’dur will ally with you, Shenla,” he proclaimed in a strong voice. “But know this: if we have reason to believe you will betray us, our retribution will be violent and swift.”

So, he wasn’t completely under her sway yet. Shenla had to respect the fellow’s willpower; his body would be awash with rampant arousal, but yet he still seemed in control of himself.

“Also,” Beshok added. “There are two conditions which you must fulfill; the first is that Barrog must face punishment for deserting his people. Under normal circumstances, this would mean death, but in the light of our new alliance, I will offer him the chance to redeem himself in the Pit.”

Barrog shifted his weight at that. Shenla glanced behind her at the Pit, where one Orc stood with his fists held high, his boot on the chest of his opponent, who was lying on the ground. Two smaller Orcs rushed into the centre to drag the body away. Shenla couldn’t tell if he still lived or not.

Shenla addressed the chief. “Who will be his opponent, Chief Beshok?”

Beshok grinned malevolently. “I think Garrun would be a suitable match. Do you agree, Morana?”

Morana matched her mate’s grin and nodded. She was watching Garrun, in particular his cock, which was still somewhat hard from Shenla’s earlier efforts. Shenla doubted she would be able to entirely wrap her hands around that mighty weapon, though she couldn’t wait to try.

Garrun barked a laugh. “Thank you, Chief! It would be my honour to crush Barrog’s skull into the dirt!”

Shenla couldn’t alow that; if Barrog died, she would be reduced in power until she could find a replacement, and while she’d never experienced losing a pet, she had the feeling it would also involve large amounts of pain. She tugged on the threads she’d earlier placed on Garrun, and the huge Orc turned his head to regard her, his cock flexing eagerly. She gave the brute the slightest, almost imperceptible shake of her head, and while he didn’t give any outward sign, she felt that he’d received the message: do not kill Barrog.

At that moment, Morana’s servant began to buck his hips, and long ropes of Orc juice began to spurt from the end of his cock and onto the chieftess’s face and tits. She never took her eyes off Garrun the entire time, quite content to let the brawny young Orc spill his seed on her skin. When he was done, she released his member, and without looking at him, simply said; “clean me off.”

The young Orc obeyed immediately, vanishing and returning seconds later with a cloth which he used to wipe his chieftess down.

“And what is your second condition, Chief Beshok?” Shenla asked politely, though she layered her tone thick with sweet promise.

“My second condition, Lady Shenla,” Beshok began, scornfully pronouncing the word ‘lady.’ “Is that you will prove your loyalty to the Gor’dur by sharing my bed tonight.”

Shenla could have laughed out loud, though she schooled her features. This was his condition? It was almost too easy! She bowed her head gracefully, trying to pretend that she didn’t want to feel his enormous cock inside her. “As you wish, Chief Beshok. I will accept these conditions in the interests of our alliance.”

A short time later, Shenla, Peldin and Torvin were sitting in the roughly hewn stone seats surrounding the Pit, watching Barrog and Garrun preparing for their fight. Barrog had stripped down to his loincloth and was casually swinging his heavy double-bladed axe back and forth. Barrog was almost nine feet tall and thickly muscled, but Garrun had almost a foot on him, and the monstrous Orc’s body rippled as he flexed and stretched, partly to limber up, but mostly – Shenla suspected – for show, especially with the way he twirled that enormous spiked hammer around like it was a twig.

The word had got out that Barrog had returned and was to face Garrun as punishment, and Orcs had flocked to the arena by the score, packing the rows of crude seats until there was no room left. Guttural voices filled the huge cavern as Orcs excitedly waited for the show to begin.

“Silence!” Chief Beshok’s voice boomed from where he stood on the dais, and every Orc in the arena immediately hushed. “Today is a monumental day for the Gor’dur! Today we have forged an alliance which will allow us to take Amindaer City!”

Cheers erupted from the crowd; Amindaer had long been coveted by the races of Palistair, but divided as they were, neither Orc, nor Elf, nor Warden had the strength to conquer it alone. Now – thanks to Maloth – they would be united as one, and would have the means to take the previously impenetrable Amindaer City. Maloth would be most pleased with Shenla when she brought him the good news.

Beshok waved the crowd to silence. “Also, today the traitor Barrog has returned to us!”

Hate-filled roars and cries followed the chief’s words, all directed at Barrog, who continued to warm up, ignoring his brethren.

“Barrog will be punished under trial by combat!” Beshok continued. “And if, by some miracle, he defeats Garrun, or survives the fight, then his crime will be forgiven!”

Raucous laughter thundered around the arena at that one; obviously not many Orcs thought Barrog stood a chance. What they didn’t know was that Barrog’s soul was Bound to Shenla, which made him somewhat faster and stronger than he would be otherwise. Still, Shenla was not completely certain Barrog could defeat Garrun, which is why she’d given the silent command to the bigger Orc.

Beshok raised a hand, and the crowd quieted once again. “Begin!”

Garrun and Barrog had been circling each other in the centre of the Pit, and at the word ‘begin,’ Garrun thundered forward with a roar, reaching Barrog in four long strides and bringing the head of his hammer down as if he wanted to drive the smaller Orc into the ground like a stake.

Barrog shifted his weight ever so slightly as he inched to one side, and the hammer whistled past his face, striking only empty air as it sailed by harmlessly and thunked into the sandy ground. In less time than it takes a heart to beat, Barrog’s axe rose and fell, chopping through the haft of Garrun’s hammer in one clean blow.

The entire arena fell silent, and more than a few Orc jaws had fallen open in shock. With a scream of rage, Garrun left his hammer in the dirt and thrust the severed haft toward Barrog in an underhand stab, but Barrog smoothly knocked the attack aside and brought the butt of his axe handle up into Garrun’s chin before planting a bare foot in the huge Orc’s belly, knocking the wind out of him.

Gasping for breath, Garrun dropped to one knee, and Shenla saw Barrog glance in her direction, asking an unspoken question. She nodded, and Barrog hefted his axe to deliver the killing blow, but to Shenla’s surprise, he dropped the axe and bent to pick up Garrun’s hammer. She felt a pang of regret as Barrog brought the hammer down upon Garrun’s skull and a sickening crack echoed around the otherwise silent arena; she really would have liked to try that Orc cock.

Garrun collapsed in a heap on the ground, the back of his head a bloody mess where the hammer had fallen. With a triumphant bellow, Barrog placed a foot on his dead opponent and kicked him over onto his back before raising the shortened hammer above his head.

The arena exploded in thunderous applause, the Orc spectators whooping and cheering Barrog’s name. Barrog turned slowly, drinking in the adulation.

The cheers died down when Beshok rose from his throne. “Barrog!” The Orc chief bellowed. “You have passed your trial by combat, and are hereby cleared of all charges of desertion!”

There were further cheers at that, but Beshok pressed on. “As well as this, you defeated your enemy without being struck, and if that weren’t enough, you killed him with his own weapon. You have brought much honour upon yourself. The Gor’dur Clan would offer you a prize, Barrog. What would you ask of us?”

Barrog remained silent for a moment, before answering in his bass, guttural voice. “I would have you grant a request, Chieftain, but I would ask you in private.”

Later, Shenla and her sycophants were lounging in the private quarters of Beshok and Morana. The chief and chieftess’s chambers were expansive, and this particular room was comfortable, if a little primitive. Thick furs and square feather pillows covered the stone floor, surrounding a blazing firepit that filled the space with pleasant warmth.

In keeping with the Orc leaders’ manner, Shenla had removed her cloak and leather straps, and was sitting nude before the fire, leaning back on her hands and allowing Beshok to rake his eyes over her body. For effect, she’d opened her thighs while keeping the soles of her feet together, forming a diamond shape with her legs. The heat from the fire felt good on her already inflamed sex.

Beshok was certainly taking advantage of Shenla’s display; sitting cross-legged to her left, his gaze was openly roaming over her body, and his cock – which was even more impressive up close – was standing up proudly in his lap. Perhaps it was not such a shame about Garrun, when there was meat like Beshok’s so close to hand.

Barrog sat to Shenla’s right, having been offered a place of honour sitting at the fire with the chief and chieftess, and Shenla, as an official ally of the Gor’dur, was offered the same.

Morana sat beside Beshok, sitting almost in imitation of Shenla, except the chieftess’s legs were straight and slightly apart, giving Shenla a view of her hairless, puffy slit. Shenla found herself wondering what Orc pussy tasted like; she’d never had the pleasure.

A few feet behind Shenla were Peldin and Torvin, who also sat naked on the furs. Dark Elves and Wardens were not regarded fondly by the Gor’dur, and as such it was a wonder they were allowed in the room at all. Shenla had instructed them to sit back and remain silent, so as not to interfere with her plans. A glance over her shoulder showed her that the two men had found a way to amuse themselves; Torvin’s buxom Risen had her head in his lap and was devotedly sucking his cock while Peldin knelt behind the former human and quietly fucked her ass. Shenla watched for a moment, liking the contrast of Peldin’s midnight skin against the pale grey of the Risen.