( DALLIANCE )<br/><br/>She was called<i>eldritch</i>for her ways. Long before she was known as other things, such as<i>tyrant</i>or<i>scourge</i>. Other things that she was called that meant to bring fear; even more implications by those who stood in her presence and witnessed firsthand the reason why grown men shook in their breeches with trembling knees and quaking voices. These were the speculators, who wanted to see for themselves how nothing but a woman had caused such mass destruction and hysteria in just a short span of time.<br/><br/>The war had lasted two years, after all.<br/><br/>Entire kingdoms crumbled like dust between her fingertips while entire villages ran red from a flood of bloodshed if they dared rise up, if only to defend the honor of what once was. She should have been the stuff of legends, and while her story would forever be writ long after she was dead, she had long ago since embraced that she played the villain in a world of would be heroes. Of course, the story books could all be damned. Twenty years had come and gone and still no one was powerful or bold enough to mass together to bring down the tyranny of kingdoms that now fell under her rule. She kept them anxious still, even as the children’s' parents grew old and bitter, their stories becoming grossly exaggerated with each rasp of their tongue until the truth of the battles they had fought in from the trenches was filled with debonair bravado when no doubt they had tried to turn and run once they realized just what they were up against.<br/><br/>The women whispered of a woman scorned, gone bad because of a man's treachery. Those old enough knew that she came from a slave or a whore – a bedraggled waif that had sneaked into a lord's home one night in the middle of a war even before this last one. They knew that by all rights and laws, the<i>eldritch </i>known as Sionae tel'Bannon should have been born and bred a slave – or whore – herself under such premises. But the story was lost in translation, passed down from too many mouths just like her own, and forgot the chapters where her own mother had slit her Master's throat while he held her in his arms at night once she had learned that she was pregnant. Not with his, no. Her get was from stronger stock than a mere man. Or that the daughter borne of such an unholy union did not come from the womb of some demonic goddess, though there were rumors still that the man who had spent his seed to create her was something from the bowels of the deepest levels of the Otherworld.<br/><br/>Then there was the question of Sionae's own daughter. Named after her long dead mother, she named the babe once it was born Natasja Eras Fidelia, for the someone who used her wiles and cunning to bring down her own warlord. The girl was now gaining on her twentieth year while her own father's head was a rotted black cesspool by now on the last remaining battlefield. Her threat had rung loud and clear among the survivors that night: the body was not to be touched. It was to be left to the carrion birds, the scavengers, and the elements to rot it back into the ground. Unlike her own re-animations of the newly dead, his end was a permanent echo that struck through the hopes of those who wished to be rid of the woman who sat the largest throne. So while her pregnancy remained a secret and those who witnessed it firsthand killed after to silence their tongues, the girl child bloomed in the image of the dead.<br/><br/>Sionae kept herself distant from the child even into adulthood. The intense stare of her own daughter's blue eyed gaze chilled her in a way that nothing else did. Instead, the girl was taught just like any of the acolytes that came to her, they becoming a league of powerful mages that further reinforced the indestructible force that had taken over once powerful kingdoms. Though she kept a watchful eye on the growing girl, her concerns had always been on matters of flesh and blood, she feigned disinterest when the source was her own.<br/><br/>Until the day that Morjana returned from the neutral elvish king that dwelled too far away from Sionae’s own reach. Only the ancient being had his own source of power that she was interested in. It was supposed to be a simple negotiation, but the iron backed red head had been gone from months. And by the way her green eyes, normally glaciers, had melted into swimming, frantic pools that wavered on Sionae’s face as she stared attentively up at the other woman who lounged on a chair in her private chamber, one leg hooked over the ornate wood of the arm. It offered a provocative view for the red head, who struggled not to glance down at the naked sex so brazenly exposed underneath the slitted robes the other woman donned. Draped loosely over her frame, it both accented the fact that she was a woman and highlighted the fact that she both represented death and beauty at once. Carved into flesh turned golden by the beating sun were the markings of her power that had become a permanent fixture in physical scars on her body. The whorls and symbols stood out as a reminder to those who had any question regarding Sionae’s power and what all she was willing to do to achieve it. The dark waves of her hair fanned down over her shoulders and across her breasts with abandon; this woman was no lady from a noble's court and more resembled a savage than anything regal.<br/><br/>Which is why she did not bother calling herself<i>queen</i>.<br/><br/>“I have the book, my lady,” came the trembling voice. Morjana licked her lips nervously once she spoke, eyes flitting briefly down to the eldritch's most intimate area at last. Like her hair, the delicate lips were framed by dark curls. With a rose blush tinting her cheeks, her green eyes flicked back up to the woman's stoic, judging amber-flecked stare. Like a lioness waiting to pounce. With arms like jellied candies, she presented the volume and cast her gaze down to the floor. “The Dark Elf King sends his regards. There is a note as well. He is a deceptive man, my lady. He plays games with us--” Her cheeks darkened all the more and she cleared her throat, daring to peek a glance up at the woman whose face still showed no emotion at all. “He still has the means to translate the volume and sent me away before I had a chance to convince him to give it to me.”<br/><br/>The last was a lie. The young woman had never wanted to leave the Dark Elf's embrace or the carnal pleasures that his domain offered her. The power be damned; the arcane arts she had mastered, but to be completely free of her constraints, to give herself entirely to<i>his </i>whim, she would go back... She would go back and always be his. Wetness pooled between her thighs even now as she stepped forward and put the volume in the eldritch's waiting hands.<br/><br/>Sionae's eyes locked not on the book when it was presented but on Morjana's flushed cheeks and dilated eyes that were having trouble staying raised. Without breaking her stare, she put both the book and its missive from the Dark Elf king to the side and shifted back in her chair. With the movement, her robe shifted so that the flimsy fabric tightened around the globes of her breasts and across her hardening nipples. Her one leg stayed latched across the chair's arm while her other made a blatant motion to spread wide, exposing herself further to the red head's stare that had suddenly become captivated by the sight of the dampening folds unfurling from the pink center underneath.<br/><br/>“I believe you on one front, Morjana. The dark elf is playing games with you. You of all people should have known better than to fall into a trap such as you did.”<br/><br/>She leaned forward then and snaked her fingers through the scarlet flame of the other witch's hair, nails scraping along her scalp as she dragged her forward. The woman stumbled and a gasped passed from her parted lips, but she followed the guiding motion of the edritch's hand that had tightened into her locks so that the tendrils were pulled taut in her fist. All it took was another stumble and she collapsed onto her knees to alleviate the pressure, her face thrust forward between the intricate whorls etched into creamy thighs until her nose was filled with the musky scent of quickly heightening arousal and her lips brushed the saturated folds of the other woman. The edritch's response was to grind her pelvis against her mouth so that Morjana's ruby red lips crushed against the hood of her clit.<br/><br/>“Since you enjoyed his games so thoroughly, Morjana, I would like you to show me what else you have learned during your stay with Aune that caused the importance of your mission into his kingdom to slip your mind. I want to know what his deception did to your now feeble mind,” Sionae growled with gritted teeth as she stared at the other woman's head between her thighs. Once again, she gave her pelvis a hard thrust and grind so that she coated the red head's lips with her juices. The green eyes that had before shown fear now looked up half-lidded and lustful at the display of force and her twin cherries now parted eagerly to tease the swelling bud in the dark bed of curls. Like an eager kitten, she lapped at the node of pleasure until the amber stare that watched flicked away and her head leaned back against the cushioned head rest. Her eyes closed at that point as her other hand came to join the first to tangle into the other woman's silken coils to further guide her plush lips against the succulent, dripping fruit between her thighs, grinding incessantly even when the other started to struggle against the bucking of her hips as she fought to come up for air and her tongue stopped its dart and retreat against the swelling nub.<br/><br/>“Don't stop,” Sionae demanded gruffly and jerked Morjana's hair taught until she whimpered her meek apology against the eldritch's nether folds. Once again, she paid her homage to the bundle of nerves, and this time persisted until the other mage's head reared back and the stifled groan sounded in the air. Before the orgasm fully seized her, however, Sionae jerked the other woman's own swollen lips away from her own saturated pair and pushed her away so that she landed on her knees before the chair the other sat in. Her bright head hung low as she panted for both her breath and her own unsatisfied arousal as the eldritch pulled herself up in one graceful motion and slid from her seat, her robes adjusted back into place. As if modesty mattered.<br/><br/>“You are a damaged pet, Morjana. I think you are better suited to playing with my favorite creatures. Don't you?” The smile she wore was a cruel one as she stepped over the slumped over body of the other sorceress and to the door on the other side of the room usually reserved for meeting with her...<br/><br/>Allies, she supposed they were.<br/><br/>“They haven't had any new playmates in quite some time. I suppose I have been neglecting them too much. Amuse them, will you, as you amused Aune himself?”<br/><br/>Her laugh echoed off the walls of her little meeting area. The lioness' stare moved to the far corner, where, hidden by the deep shadows between the torches that cast odd shadows through the room, a looming figure stepping forward as if mentally reading the eldritch's thoughts. At nearly seven foot, the creature was impressive. Like one of the gargoyles that were stone specters outside the fortress itself, a pair of leathery wings stretched out behind the thing that stepped into view. Perhaps once it had been a man. Now it was an odd mix between man and beast. Bipedal, its feet were cloven like a goat's while its face was contorted to resemble a feline of some sort over features that had once belonged to a man. Course fur threaded its way down the middle of its broad, muscular chest all the way down to the thatch between its thighs, where its cock hung heavily over a pair of balls. The slitted green eyes that passed over the woman still on her knees on the floor fell on Sionae with a shocking amount of intelligence before landing on the red head. Sensing its gaze, she glanced up, her own green pools widening with shock.<br/><br/>“That's right, Andrul. She is yours to do with as you wish,” the sorceress purred affectionately, the cruel smile broadening on her face. Only she didn't stay long enough to watch the scene unfold. She was already out the double doors and into cooler air by the time the shocked cry echoed through the cracks. Andrul had a barbed cock underneath the layer of foreskin that protected it. Thick in girth and long as compatible with his size. She knew what he would do without watching. She could imagine his heavy paw of a hand grabbing himself until he grew heavy and aroused in his own grip. He wouldn't bother with any niceties when it came to Morjana. No, he would simply rip away her robe and shove himself deep inside her cunt until she squealed for him.<br/><br/>Sionae hoped that the slut enjoyed the pounding she received from the monster.<br/><br/>It was her daughter she sought now though, even though the girl was none the wiser to her parentage. The girl was as cold as ice and as cunning as a fox. With only the influence of Sionae's own rule, the girl was her own force to be reckoned with, albeit her tactics were not quite as straight forward as her own. She trusted the girl to return back to the elf king's lair to finish the job that the slut had started and failed. If not, it would be Sionae herself that razed his entire kingdom to the ground if more friendly means could not be achieved. She had only ever had so much patience with these kinds of games that the elf liked to play.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>Natasja Eras Fidelia knew that she was the daughter of Sionae tel Bannon. Part of her game as her mind quickened over the years just as much as her body had. Their supreme ruler, who had proven herself worthy on the battlefield as well as maintaining her status over the razed kingdoms she had domineered over for all these years, assumed that she was as oblivious as she allowed her to be. She played a dangerous game underneath her own mother's nose that the woman was yet oblivious too and would one day prove that brute force was often times more flawed than playing a slower game.<br/><br/>She wore the face of serenity on her face as she led the other woman after her as they were both led down the hall of Aune's own dwellings into the chamber he was meeting with the pair inside. Even though there was a flicker of nerves in the pit of her stomach, hers was a mask long worn and unshattered by even the most disturbing scenes she had witnessed through the years. An echo of her mother's own sneer crossed her tanned features as she yanked the chain. The motion was met with a little whimper from the red headed woman as she stumbled and was jerked. With her fiery locks bound into a taught braid and swept over her shoulder to dangle down her back, the damages done was obvious. She had a gag in her mouth in the form of a metal bit best meant for a horse, though by the noises she made as she stumbled again suggested that there was more to it. Her throat was plugged, so that her only means of breath was through her desperately flaring nostrils. A chain was attached in the center of the makeshift muzzle that led down to the collar wrapped around her throat, metal like the mouth piece. Only the drip of crimson revealed that it was latched to her delicate throat in more ways than simply being wrapped around her flesh. Barbs pricked her skin so that she was forced to hold her head straight forward and raised. Once more, a chain unfurled from the center of the collar, this time splitting off into two ends. Twin barbs punctured her nipples, leaving them throbbing painfully and hard against the pressure. It was the stumbling that caused these barbs to be yanked, until tears pricked the corners of her eyes and the muffled whimper was caught, stuck in her throat. Once more, a chain left the juncture of the two barbs to slide seductively down over her stomach and naval, where the worst of it rested between the juncture of her thighs. Her bared clit was clamped, though not pierced, giving the woman discomfort rather than pain. From the clamp there was an insertion that parted her nether lips and stretched her cunt wide, the motion of her walking causing whatever metal contrivance inside her to thrust slightly in and out. It was nothing pleasurable for the red head, though mixed with the journey, no doubt her experience was an uncomfortable one at best.<br/><br/>The two dark elves in front of them were trained enough not to stare, as the regal presence of the other was in opposition to the naked spectacle of Aune's former plaything. Be-robed in a cerulean that matched the twin pools of her eyes, she was a modest display bound for comfort. Traveling kids wound around her feet and the robes were cinched tight with gold embroidery and the young woman's dark hair was bound to the top of her head in intricate braids. It was like this that the two women were introduced to the Dark Elf king.<br/><br/>Morjana cried around the device in her mouth when she laid eyes on him again. They were eyes that spouted tears in that same moment, then finally ugly, shuddering noises as her body racked itself with miserable sobs. For the dark haired girl, she simply peered up at the elven leader with a probing look, as if trying to see his soul. Still as a whisper, the only motion she made was to breathe out a sigh and release the trembling woman in her grasp. Shaking, the red head collapsed to the floor in front of him and curled there, unable to lift herself back up.<br/><br/>“I have brought you back your pet, King Aune of the Dark Elves. You sent her back instead of what we agreed on. Are you to fulfill your bargain in truth or do you insist on playing your games?”