A Paladin's Journey Ch. 01

Once glance at the victims told Aran they were both Gifted, and in bad shape. The thin Herald opened his mouth to say something, but the words died on his tongue, and his eyes widened in shock. Aran realized he had drawn Oroth, and the blade burned white hot with his fury, sizzling as the air stirred against it. The Herald's raised their pokers, but they were far too slow. Red cloth burst into flame as Aran cut them down, Oroth searing through flesh and bone as easily as a hot knife through butter.

Once the torturers collapsed, Aran swung Oroth twice more to sever the chains that held the Gifted twins, sparks flying as the hot blade cutting the thick metal with barely a tug, and Elaina and Smythe gently lowered the poor souls to the ground. Sadness replaced fury as Aran took in the sight of them. The boy had been cut, beaten and burned until almost no healthy skin showed anywhere on his body, and the girl looked even worse. Dimly he was aware of a hot tear running down his cheek, and Elaina's Bond mirrored his feelings.

"What in the name of Aros were they doing?" Smythe whispered as he brushed matted hair back from the girl's bloody face.

"Who would do this to another?" Elaina croaked, caressing the boy's hair gently. Her emerald eyes were misted as she looked up at Aran. "What kind of people are we dealing with, Aran?"

"The worst kind," Aran said flatly, his words sounding hollow in his own ears. "They hurt in the name of righteousness and zeal. They believe they are doing the world a service."

"We need to get them out of here, lad," Smythe grunted, getting to his feet. He vanished through the door and returned a few seconds later with two more robes. "We'll wrap them in these," the big Paladin said, tossing a robe at Elaina so she could cover the boy, while Smythe did the same for the girl. Gingerly, they each put a twin over their shoulder and looked to Aran for the next move.

"Let's be gone from this place," Aran said. "We'll go back the way we came, and I'll carve us a path if I need to." At that, he sheathed Oroth and made for the door. They took the stairs as quickly as they could with Smythe and Elaina burdened with the twins, and there were no Heralds present as they hit the landing and hurried back down the corridor, past the cells. Aran almost wished more would come.

As they neared the exit ladder with the doors above, voices could be heard from the alley outside. "Where did they go?" One man asked. "They were supposed to be here until we relieved them."

Turning to the others, Aran raised a finger to his lips and motioned them to step back a little.

"No idea," another replied. "Maybe they're inside?"

"We better find them," the first man said. "Else Latham's gonna make our lives hell."

The hatch opened and the first Herald climbed down. Unfortunately for him, he had his back to the corridor as he descended, which meant he didn't see Aran waiting for him until it was too late. In a flash, Aran had him from behind, quickly holding a searing Oroth close to his throat before he could call out.

A second pair of boots appeared at the top of the ladder, accompanied by a voice. "If we don't find em, Dev, I'm not telling Latham, you know. I'll leave that particular task up to-" His words died on his tongue as he turned from the ladder to see his fellow Herald held tight by Aran, Oroth giving off waves of heat that shimmered in the air around the blade. The blood drained from his face as he took in the glowing sword. "Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispered.

"Keep quiet," Aran said softly. "Or he dies." Swallowing, the wide-eyed fellow nodded. "Step away from the hatch," Aran ordered, and the man immediately obeyed, coming a few steps further into the corridor.

"You're not gonna hurt Dev, are you?"

Aran shook his head slightly. "Not unless you give me a reason." They were young, these two, younger than many of the other Heralds Aran had seen. Maybe there was hope for them, he couldn't be sure. Aran's first instinct had been to kill them both, but he saw an opportunity to plant a seed instead. If they weren't too deeply bent by the Heralds' twisted religion, then perhaps they had a chance.

"That's a magic sword, isn't it?" The young Herald asked quietly. "You're one of them, aren't you? A Paladin?"

Aran nodded, feeling the man in his arms jerk slightly at knowing he was being held by the very thing Heralds hated most. Aran wasn't holding Oroth close enough to Dev to burn his pale skin, but he was sweating profusely nevertheless. "We came to save these two," he told the two Heralds, jerking his head back toward Elaina and Smythe, who were still shouldering the limp twins. "Your Lord Commander Eames was torturing them because of what they are; something they were born with, through no fault of their own."

Aran gave his fellow Paladins a nod, and they gently peeled back enough of the twins' covering that the two Heralds could see the result of Eames' work. He continued talking, shifting around slightly so that the man he was holding hostage -- Dev -- could also see. "The two of you are young. Is this what you wish to dedicate your life to?"

The Heralds' eyes widened as they saw the bloodied and bruised upper backs, shoulders and arms of the twins from where they were hanging over the shoulders of the two Paladins. Dev spoke up, his voice a little strained from trying to stretch his neck away from Oroth. "The Paladins were perverted, and seductive, and could control people's minds against their will! Don't listen to them, Remin! They'll get inside your head and make you fornicate with them!"

Aran almost laughed out loud. Smythe blew out his mustaches in frustration and Elaina shook her head ruefully. What nonsense were the Heralds drilling into their youth? With a sigh, he released Dev, who stumbled away, holding a hand to his throat. Sheathing Oroth, Aran studied Dev and Remin, who looked like they wanted to bolt, but were too afraid. "Have a good look at us," Aran said sincerely. "Do any of us look like the perverted, sick cultists that we're supposed to be?"

"Well, what are you then?" Dev demanded, his hand still against his throat.

"We're much different than you think," Elaina answered, stepping forward and using her free hand to lower her hood.

The response from Dev and Remin was noticeable enough as their eyes fell upon Elaina's face, with its full lips and big emerald eyes, framed by straight, shoulder-length fair hair.

"You're so beautiful!" Remin whispered.

Elaina chuckled throatily in response, a very attractive sound; she wasn't even trying to be seductive, she was just naturally sexy. "Thank you, Remin, I appreciate the compliment," she said warmly.

"We are not what the Heralds of Dawn say we are," Aran told the two Heralds. "And we never have been. Now, believe us or don't, it's up to you, but we need to get our friends away from Maralon, else they will surely die."

They thought about it for a moment, and then Dev piped up. "If we let you go, then we'll be questioned and punished, if not outright executed!"

"I've a solution for that, lad," Smythe said as he stepped forward, his tall, broad-shouldered frame making for an imposing figure. "Hop in one of the cells back there and tell them we tossed you in. They'll believe that."

Dev and Remin exchanged glances. "Maybe it's true, Dev," Remin said quietly. "Nobody we know has ever even seen a Paladin; it's all just stories. What if it's all a lie?"

Dev shook his head in disagreement, but the conflict was plain on his face.

"We need to be gone," Elaina said gently. "We're running out of time."

Aran strode to the nearest cell and pulled it open, smiling at the two young men as they reluctantly shuffled inside. "Thank you for trusting us," he said genuinely. "Your actions will cause ripples beyond your understanding, and you've helped save two very important lives today. I hope your superiors aren't too hard on you when they find you."

Dev and Remin grimaced at those last words, but overall, they seemed grateful for Aran's thanks.

"Oh," Aran added as he pushed the cross-barred iron door closed. "You might want to bruise up your faces a little and lie on the ground when they come. You know, to make the story more believable."

Understanding what he meant, the young Heralds nodded ruefully as Aran, Smythe and Elaina hurried past the cell, headed for the hatch nearby.

Aros must have been watching over them indeed, for there were no more Heralds present on their route back to the secret entrance of the Hidden Temple. Soon enough, they were back outside the brickmaker's in Senna, only having stopped at the Temple briefly to gather some herbs and ointments from the Servants' healing supplies.

Aran looked back over his shoulder toward Maralon as they slipped out of Senna, the city's high walls looming in the distance, shadowed by night. Senna was close enough to the city that if alarm bells had been raised, they would surely hear it from here. They weren't audible yet, but it was only a matter of time.

*

The way back to the Temple was going to be far slower and more treacherous than the journey there had been. Due to the fragile state of the twins, who were strapped securely across the saddles of Willow and Strider, it was impossible to move the horses at anything faster than a walk without risking further injury. This also meant that the party was an easier target for roaming patrols.

Aran and Elaina led their mounts silently across the Sorral Plains, the knee-high grass whispering as it was parted by their strides. The eastern sky was beginning to lighten as dawn approached. Still clad in their borrowed Herald robes, they'd been moving between copses of trees as much as they could, but this particular stretch of grassland was devoid of anything higher than a man's waist.

Smythe was the only one with a free horse, and so he was scouting ahead, as well as periodically checking their flanks and rear for any unwanted approaches. Every half-hour he would give them the 'clear' signal by riding close and expanding his Gift briefly so Elaina and Aran could sense it, then he would disappear again.

Elaina glanced back at the robe-covered boy and girl slung over the horses' saddles. "I hope they recover," she said quietly, concern apparent in her voice as well as through the Bond.

"They will," Aran assured her, giving her a steady look and trying to push as much certainty as he could through the Bond. "They have to."

She smiled back at him, love and gratitude flowing through the Bond in waves. "I'm glad you spared those two young Heralds, you know."

"I know," he replied. "They weren't responsible for what their Commander does. I'm hoping they don't get punished too badly." After a moment, he explained why he'd done what he had. "I'm also hoping that they start to question what the Heralds of Dawn are, and perhaps talk to one or two other like-minded young Heralds. Who knows how far it could go?"

Elaina nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose we'll have to wait and see. I hope they don't get killed for it."

"I would regret that," Aran said truthfully.

"I know," Elaina said with a grin, mimicking his earlier words. "And what's done is done. There was no way for you to spare their lives without them having to deal with repercussions anyway. You did the right thing, my love."

A short burst from a Gift came from behind them; Smythe had just finished checking their rear, and would now move to their western flank.

"I'm wondering if perhaps we should stop soon," Elaina suggested. "I want to check their wounds, make sure the travel isn't opening up their cuts too much."

Aran nodded. "It looks quiet enough out here. Next copse of trees we find will be our camp for a few hours."

He and Elaina fell into a comfortable silence for the next hour or so -- the beauty of being so connected to another person was that words became less and less necessary -- giving Aran time to think. There was so much happening all at once, it was a marvel his head had not exploded. This business with the Heralds was just the most foremost problem; there were these Druids that Elaina had had the scrape with, who apparently wanted Aran's blood as vengeance for him killing one of them. The bastards had taken Jeira's husbands life, and would've taken Jeira's, too, if Smythe hadn't arrived just in time.

Then there was this Demon, Maloth, whom Aran kept seeing in strange visions. Aran knew Maloth to be the offspring of Morgeth the Corruptor -- the Demoness who had instigated the War of Darkness -- and Darius Sunblade, Aran's own ancestor, who had Bonded with Morgeth and unintentionally brought about the Darkening of the entire Order of Aros.

Aran didn't know where Maloth was right now, but wherever he was, he would not be working toward the good of the world, of that much Aran was sure. Aran would need to start thinking about getting some eyes and ears out into the world as soon as he could; surely, the presence of a Demon -- two Demons, if you counted Maloth's sister -- would be spreading ripples throughout the land as surely as stones thrown in a pond.

Something made Aran turn to look back at the northern horizon. Against the lightening pre-dawn sky, thick black clouds were building and rolling southward, threatening to overtake them in the next hour.

"Another storm?" Elaina exclaimed disbelievingly, turning to walk backwards for a few steps. "I've never seen them come this often! It looks like a bad one, too."

She was right; it did look grim. Lightning flickered regularly, jagged white forks stabbing down at the earth below. The lower clouds at the southward edge had formed a sort of ridge, which seemed to stretch forward as if reaching for them from a great distance. Something about these storms made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, as if there were something unnatural about them.

"Come on," Aran urged, picking up his stride. Thankfully, there was a decent copse of trees within sight, and they should reach it in time.

***

***MALOTH***

New pets were always the most fun, and this one was a particularly impressive specimen. Her name was Adelain, and she was the sister of Berenor, King of the Dark Elves of the underground realm of Eredor. As with all female Elves, the older they became, more buxom and voluptuous they grew, and Adelain -- at over four hundred years old -- was no exception.

The busty, ebony-skinned beauty was currently astride Maloth on his big bed, moaning in pleasure as she gyrated her round hips on his crimson cock. Her arms were folded behind her head, tangled in the voluminous tresses of pure white hair that fell down to her ample bottom, and her face was contorted in a mask of ecstasy that she could only achieve if he chose to give it to her. She was Bound to Maloth in body, mind and soul, and she quite literally could not live without him.

Elsewhere in Maloth's huge tent, the other occupants -- all members of his harem -- were amusing themselves as they saw fit. There was Mali, his dusky Giantess, fourteen feet tall and as beautiful as she was curvaceous, lying stretched out on her back as something of a centrepiece for the entertainment of the others. Petite and slender Kreya, her head shaved smooth and her pale skin inked all over with tattoos, sat crouched over Mali's face, squealing in delight as the Giantess's long tongue explored her hairless pink slit.

Ellerion -- Maloth's other Elf -- was a High-Elf, her skin pale and her hair like golden silk, though her body was proportioned almost identically to Adelain's, as they were of a similar age. Ellerion was lying on her front with her head between Mali's spread thighs and her arm embedded up to the elbow in the Giantess' deep pussy. In turn, Ellerion's generous thighs were spread to allow room for Glinda -- Maloth's extremely well endowed and pleasingly plump Dwarf -- to bury her face between the lush, creamy buttocks of the Elf.

With his shoulders propped up against the velvet bedhead, Maloth could watch the orgy unfold as Adelain continued to grind away. He gathered up two handfuls of her heavy midnight breasts, the soft orbs capped by pink nipples that contrasted sharply with the rest of her skin, and began to knead them roughly, pinching and squeezing the pliant flesh mercilessly.

"Oh, fuck!" Adelain cried in the common tongue, before descending into a string of Elvish. Maloth even picked up a word, here and there; a strange side-benefit of Binding was that he gained some of the knowledge from whomever he had Bound, including their language.

Maloth was spending this evening 'feeding' his pets, which meant giving them his seed, for if they went more than a few weeks without it, they would take ill and die, and if one of his pets was to die, it would reduce Maloth's power greatly.

"Give it to me, my Lord!" Adelain wailed, the speed of her hips increasing until she was bucking frantically. With a growl, Maloth released her tits and lurched forward to wrap his arms around her slim back, holding her against him as he buried his teeth into her shoulder, drawing blood. Simultaneously, his balls churned and his hot come erupted into her waiting cunt, the dark liquid immediately being absorbed by her body.

For a Bound soul, there was no greater pleasure than receiving their master's seed, and Adelain's dark eyes rolled up into the back of her head until only the whites showed. Her mouth opened as if to scream, but no sound escaped, and her body shook violently at the intensity of the climax.

Not waiting until she was done, Maloth pushed the Dark Elf aside, which left his slick cock waving in the air unattended, but he knew it wouldn't be for long. As one, his other pets all stopped what they were doing and turned their heads to the bed. There was a mad scramble, but Kreya was the nimblest, and arrived first, clambering onto the bed with a greedy grin on her pretty face, her pale blue eyes lidded with lust.

"How does my Lord want me?" The sexy Warden of the Dead purred as she bent to cover the head of his cock with her eager mouth.

Maloth was ready to answer -- he had several ideas in mind -- but a presence in his awareness was growing closer; Shenla had returned to camp, and was approaching his tent. Not a minute later, his rose-skinned Demoness sister entered, her seductive beauty easily outclassing the other women present.

"I see you're enjoying yourself, my Lord," Shenla purred as she swayed into the tent, her glittering eyes -- a purple so deep they were almost black -- slowly scanned the hedonistic goings-on, before landing on where Maloth was enjoying the oral affections of Kreya.

"It's feeding day, sister." Maloth told Shenla, grunting as Kreya's hand began to fondle his heavy balls while she suckled him. "And my pets are hungry. Isn't that right, Kreya?" He caressed the pretty Warden's smooth head with a black-nailed hand, and she purred in response.

Shenla had entered wearing a black, velvet-lined cloak with the cowl pulled back to display the waves of silky raven hair that framed her perfectly sculpted face, with its high cheekbones, large eyes and full, luscious lips. With a sultry smile, she unfastened the clasp at her neck and the cloak dropped to the floor, revealing her lush, ripe, and completely naked body.

Maloth's cock twitched in Kreya's mouth as his eyes wandered over Shenla's perfect form. Sure, his pets were beautiful women, but Shenla was a goddess, designed by ancient magic to attract the eye of any man, and many women. She was tall and generously proportioned, with huge round tits capped by dark nipples, a flat stomach and slim waist that flared out into ample hips and a gloriously juicy bottom. Her thighs matched her tits and hips, and her sex was smooth and hairless.