Lord Amplevine's Revenge Pt. 01

Bjarna's eyes nearly popped right out of his head. Astrið's nipples were stiff, and... dripping. "Well!" she said. "This is a pleasant surprise!"

"Pleasant?" said Synnøva. "You must be using that word in a way I'm not familiar with."

"It feels pretty good, anyway, and I don't mind it," said Astrið. "I wonder..." She reached down and squeezed, with both hands. She gasped, so loud that it was nearly a scream, and her legs actually quaked as a dozen little jets of milk sprayed from her nipple. "Fuuucking gods above that feels incredible!"

"Uh... Why don't you, er, take a moment to deal with this, Astrið?" said Synnøva. "Eadwig and I will wait for you in the hall. I think I'm on to something here with the diary, so, you know. Do what you need to do."

Astrið's head shot around to Bjarna. He was simply watching in awe, and feebly trying to hide the tent in his pants. "Hey, do you want to-"

"Yes please," said Bjarna.

Astrið practically tackled him, nearly knocking him over as she shoved her breast in his face. The last thing that Synnøva saw as she followed Eadwig out of the room was Astrið trying to lift her own nipple up to her mouth while Bjarna sucked on the other.

---

"His drawing is very rough, but I think this is a map of the city? He drew it upside down, so that south is up, but here's Uptown, here's the castle, and here's the University."

Synnøva and Eadwig were sitting in the hall, their backs to the wall. The statue of Halvar loomed over them, and there were lots of very interesting noises coming from inside the master bedroom. "This is highly irregular, my lady." His brow had yet to unfurrow.

She shrugged. "My father once told me that sorcerers are a strange lot. I'm starting to see what he meant. Still, she saved my life, and what's happening to her is, well... Highly irregular. We shouldn't tarry too much, but I'm willing to give her a few minutes to work things out."

Eadwig opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment there was a loud, husky, feminine moan from beyond the door, and he shut it again.

"So look, here's the city, and here's the city outskirts. He's got some locations circled here. This one's labeled... Let's see. V-E-L-A SH-E-I. Vela Shei. Oh! That's that brothel on Galdavej. But what does a Shalian goddess have to do with it? It's got an X through it, anyway, so it looks like whatever he was interested in there didn't work out."

"Aah! Fuck yes! Oh, right there! Right there!"

"And here, this is the Temple of Faira. The label is... Faira. An X through that one, too. Was he shopping around for gods?"

"Oh, this can't be your first time! You're too good at it! Go on, keep... Yes! YES!"

"Okay, which of these doesn't have an X through it? Let's see... Oh, this one has three circles around it, and no X. Where is this? It's not even within the city."

There were wet, squishy noises coming through the door now. Eadwig had his armed crossed and was staring at the wall, like a pouting child. Synnøva held the diary up to him. "Look! The label says 'Hrungnir'. He did try to curse me, and Astrið said that he used god-magic to do it. Hrungnir was the god, I bet. This location is in the forest outside of the city. It'd be a good place to hide, but even if-"

"I'm almost there! Don't- don't stop!"

"-even if he's not there, we might find some clues as to-"

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Cu- cumming! Cumming! AAAH!"

"-some clues as to where he went." Synnøva waited a moment. Except for a few gasps and the sound of heavy breathing, the noises had stopped. She opened the door a crack and saw... Pretty much exactly what she expected. Bjarna was laying on the floor, Astrið on top of him. He was also inside of her. There was something white dripping out from where they were joined.

Astrið really had a very nice pussy, and it looked lovely all stretched out around his cock like that. That thought popped into Synnøva's head, and it took her by surprise. Well... Huh. Best to stow that one away and examine it later.

"Hey, I think I've figured out where we should look for Halvar. Clean up as fast as you can and let's go!" She closed the door again.

Astrið must have gotten dressed in record time, because a just a few moments later she appeared, straining the bustier of a completely different dress. "Ah, I feel much better now!" she said cheerfully. "Some of your old clothes were still in the closet in there. I hope you don't mind. Also, uh... That other dress is going to need a very thorough washing now. My apologies."

"I'll just have Bjarna throw it out. It doesn't fit me anyway. Bjarna, did you- oh." Synnøva had peeked her head in the door again to speak to him, and she'd expected to be at least half-dressed, but he was still laying on the floor, naked as a skylark and covered in... fluids. Lots of them.

"I wore him right out," said Astrið with a laugh. "He might need a moment before he's ready to do anything."

"But you're ready to go?"

"Energized and feeling great! My breasts don't tingle anymore, either. I think I just needed to be milked."

At the word 'milked', Eadwig shuddered. "Oh, come now!" said Astrið cheerily. "It's perfectly natural."

"My lady, Master Astrið, with all due respect, can we please just continue our search now?"

That was exactly what they did.

---

"Hrungnir! Hrungnir! Come out and face me, you great spineless coward!"

Halvar winced as he cut his hand over the goblet once again. He had no venom this time- he had used it all up the night before- but if this pathetic excuse of a god had any decency at all he would be answered anyway. When lifted the goblet to his mouth it was sweet and coppery, and in his rage he nearly choked on it. He finished off the sacrament coughing and sputtering. "Come out, snake! Face me, or send your wench again!"

"Spineless, hmm?" The voice came from behind him this time, and he jumped in surprise. The blonde woman was there again, her hair still perfect, dress still immaculate, eyes still beautiful and terrible. "Really, as a snake, the Master is nothing but spine, I think."

"The curse didn't work!" said Halvar, shaking the wand at her. "She was supposed to do what I say, but she didn't!"

"The sorcerer jumped in the way. You hit her instead of your intended target."

"What!? You saw? You were there?"

"Oh yes. I've been keeping an eye on you since our last meeting." She winked, and it infuriated him.

"Then you know what I need! Recharge it, or do whatever you need to do!"

She laughed, and he wanted so very badly to slap her. Something inside him, a part of him that he did not listen to very often, told him that it would not be a very good idea. "One shot for one soul. That was our deal. I did warn you, you know."

"Well, what if I buy another from you?"

"And what else could you possibly have to offer me, Lord Amplevine?"

"I am the third richest person in Branturhem!"

She waved a hand dismissively. "Shiny metal. We have no desire for it."

"I own the largest and most productive vineyards in all of Snøland!"

"Even the greatest wine that you mortals brew is bitter and unpleasant compared to what we have beyond. Try again."

He hesitated. He thought. "You only deal in souls, do you?"

She grinned, but there was no humor in it. "Mostly."

"I'll give you hers. Synne's. When we are dead you can have both of us."

"Her soul is not yours to give. You can only give it to us if she gives it to you first. There are rules to this. Even the gods must follow them."

"Well, when you give me another shot with the curse, and she obeys me, I will command her to give her soul to you!"

"That doesn't count. It has to be given freely, of her own will."

"But once she is obedient to me it will be of her own will! I will make it so that she wants to do it!"

She raised an eyebrow. "You really do believe that, don't you? Incredible. Still, the answer is no. You will have to convince her to do it on your own, without magic." She glanced over into the trees, where there was a distant sound of footsteps, growing louder. "Ah, and it looks like you'll have your chance right now. Make it count!"

Halvar followed her eyes towards the noises, and then when he looked back, she was gone.

They burst out from the forest: six city watchmen carrying swords and crossbows, one of them wearing a captain's insignia, Synne, and that thrice-damned elven sorcerer. Only... She hadn't had those the last time that he'd seen her. He frantically checked his pockets, but the figurine was nowhere to be found.

"You stole it," he said to her, his voice dripping with hatred. "You stole my figurine! You used it! That was meant for Synne!"

"A confession, then," said the captain, "with seven witnesses. Thank you for that, Lord Amplevine. Now, you are being charged with three crimes: Assault of a noble, assault of a Master of the University, and attempted murder of a free citizen of Branturhem. Please come with us peacefully, or we will have to use force."

Halvar reached for his sword, but before he even touched it there were five crossbows aimed right at him. They had loaded and cocked them before they had even entered the clearing, apparently. He sneered and raised his hands in the air.

"Lord Amplevine!" said the elf. "You struck me with a spell, back in Lady Silvercreek's manor. I need to know what it did. I assure you that I can figure it out on my own, given time, but this will go much better for you if you simply tell me."

Had it done anything to her? The way that he had worded the curse was very specific, but perhaps...

"It makes you obey my every word! You are loyal to me, and only to me, and you must follow all of my commands! Now, sorcerer, incinerate these six guards with your magic!"

The tips of the crossbows did not waver from him, but the guards looked nervously at the elf. She raised an eyebrow. "No, I think I'd rather not."

Shit.

When he had described the curse, he had said that Synnøva would follow his every command, and be completely obedient to him in all things, forever. He had used her name. Apparently that meant that the curse did nothing at all when it struck someone else. Halvar looked around, but he didn't see any way out of this. Was... Was this it? Was this going to end with prison, or even his own death? The thought took him for a moment, and for a moment, he felt fear...

"Once more, Lord Amplevine, come with us peacefully! Things will be much worse for you if you don't."

What were these strange thoughts inhabiting him? He was Lord Amplevine! Of course this would not be the end of him! He just had to think of something clever...

Several things happened, all in the space of a few moments. Halvar drew his sword and threw it, all in one fluid motion, at the guard captain. At the same time he kicked his legs out from under himself, landing flat on his back with a heavy thump. Five crossbow bolts flew directly over him. He watched, seeing them almost as if they were moving in slow motion, as two of them splintered into each other in mid-air. His sword...

Oh no.

Oh no.

His aim had been off. He saw it flying fast, for his throw had been powerful, right at Synne. She saw it too, and her eyes widened in shock and fear. No! He needed her! She was-

The sword changed course in mid-air. It flew away from her, then clattered to the ground right next to him.

Well, of course things had worked out. Silly to think that they wouldn't, really. Before he or his other guards could load their crossbows again or draw their swords, Halvar had rolled on the ground, grabbed the sword, and leapt back up to his feet.

Hah! He'd been a fool to doubt himself! He would make it out of this yet! Thinking quickly, he reached out to the nearest person to him. The sorcerer. He wrapped his arm tightly around her, and held the blade of his rapier up against her throat. He did this all so quickly that she hardly had any time to react. By the time that she realized what was happening she was already in his clutches.

"Let her go, Lord Amplevine!" cried the captain. His guards had their swords out now, but it was too late.

"Take another step towards me and she dies!" He started backing away, taking the sorcerer with him. She was taller than him, so he had to say it over her shoulder, but it seemed to work. The guards held their swords at the ready, but they did not approach him.

"Last chance, Amplevine," muttered the sorcerer. "Let me go, or you're really not going to like what happens next."

"Shut your mouth, wench," he said back to her, not bothering to keep his voice down. "Even you can't cast a spell in time to keep me from cutting your throat while my blade is right here." He put a little pressure on it, just to emphasize his point. "I think I'll take you with me. Get a nice feel of these fat tits of yours, since you stole them from Synne."

"She never wanted them, and you couldn't have forced them on her. The magic wouldn't let you."

"Which is why I was going to make her obedient! I would make her want them! But since you stole the magic anyway, I'll just enjoy yours..." He grabbed a handful of her chest, squeezing. It was delightfully soft.

The sorcerer took a deep breath. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"You can do nothing to me, elf!"

"You think so?"

"I know-"

The blade of his sword fell off. Right where it met the hilt, it detached from the grip, coming off in a smooth, clean line. The metal glowed red at the break. The blade slid and bounced harmlessly off of her chest before falling to the ground.

"Wha-" Her elbow met the side of his head with a crack, and he fell to the ground, stars filling his vision. How could someone so skinny hit so hard? He tried to stumble back to his feet, but... Swords. There were swords pointed at his neck. Three of them. And two more at his stomach.

"You're done, Lord Amplevine," said the captain. "Give up, and maybe, maybe this will end with prison for you, instead of execution."

For a moment, just a moment, he considered plunging his neck into their blades. After all, he would come right back, wouldn't he, after a short little foray in the afterlife to meet with Hrungnir? And with the powers of a god, he would be able to take his revenge on all of them. He could kill this captain and his men, and make Synne love him. And the elf, too. Why not? She had tits bigger than Synne's now.

But...

He was not scared. No, it couldn't be fear. But the time wasn't right. Not in front of Synne.

---

He let them shackle him. Allowed them to drag him from the forest, to cart him through the city, to the prison on the West Docks. He would, he was told, be put on trial for his crimes. After the trial, he might be sent back here, or he might be sent to the gallows, depending on how the presiding magistrate sentenced him.

He decided that he did not care how the trial went. One way or the other, he would have his revenge. He didn't know how it would come yet, but he would figure it out. He was Lord Amplevine, after all.