Ranger Chronicles Ep. 01

He's noticed, she thought. A Warchief was enough to intimidate most men to her bidding without hurting them (she found most outworlders found Drow women intimidating but weren't fearful). Indeed, Lain, Cleitus and Ralph would need no more edging, and began to disrobe immediately. For Kalan, she had requested two Drow Ghosts to accompany her. The Ghosts were Drow who had mastered Illusion Magic and the Void-Energy. Along with an extreme skill in arms, they were the deadliest tools in the Drow arsenal. Barehanded, with mana alone, and three to protect, he stood no chance. She snapped her fingers and the air next to her flickered again. Kalan grimaced and began to disrobe. He tore his shirt off, revealing a broad chest and well-defined muscles, along with an especially strong abdomen. He took off his trousers and she let out soft gasp. A large penis - no, this was a cock - flopped down to his thighs. It was thick and uncut and reached far down. It was a brutish thing, fit for a brutish man. She noticed the other men staring as well. Control yourself, Nimi. She had to keep complete control, as the Ghosts next to her would take notice if she became too aroused. Such lust was unfit for a Priestess. Despite that, she couldn't help but grow hot. Her lips especially grew wet - as if she'd peed herself - with the desire to be filled. Balthazar's Blessings, what was wrong with her? Drow women were attracted to one mate their entire lives, and she had already chosen hers, so why did she feel this way? Was it even possible for an Elf, Drow or not, to be attracted to a Human? She'd heard of Drow and Elven women and men using Humans and Orcs for sex, that had always been common, yet she'd never heard of any Elf or Drow becoming attracted to a different species. It was impossible. Humans didn't even have the right magic and chemicals Drow and Elves used to determine attraction. She'd have to ask the Elders about it.

"Very good!" she said once they were all nude. "Follow me. Do not stray from where I go. Drugi here will see to any who feel the need to explore." The Warchief grunted in agreement. She nodded to Drugi and gestured to the door. He drew a key and swung the doors open. She walked down the hall, the four men and Drugi following her like ducklings. She found it difficult to contain her excitement.

The Drow Capital of Garthrand (meaning light's end in the elven tongue) was a city built, on, in, and around the most formidable peak of the Dragon's Nest, what the Drow called Hyr's peak (an Old Dwarven name for the Mountain). Long ago The Ancestors had learned from the Dwarves and built Garthrand inside the Hyr's Peak, allowing them to hide from the Elves, who killed them by the thousands. This was a city impossible to lay siege too, let alone find (the Rangers had tried), allowing for their safety. The climate had been rough, and the soil hard, yet the warm flow of the mountain, along with magic, had allowed The Ancestors to cultivate this hard land. Eventually the population grew enough so that Living on the Mountain was possible. Now, they traveled to the breeding chamber on the fifth floor of the Mountain. It was located just between the deep of the Mountain and the outside so that it was the most frequently visited breeding chamber. Everyone was going to she what she'd captured. She could just imagine the look on Chadra's face once she saw her new slaves!

They reached a large door guarded by two Ghosts, each wearing light leathers and armed with two short-swords. There would be more Guards and Ghosts than slaves here, so the ones she had brought with her where no longer needed.

"You may go now, Ghosts, I'm quite safe here. Return In a few hours - I'll need you to escort them back." This one of the few challenges of having a dangerous slave; most she could overpower with mana alone, yet she would require assistance in escorting Kalanian to and from places until she bonded with him. Two Drow in black leathers materialized next to her. Lain shrieked. Cleitus and Ralph jumped back. Kalanian didn't spare them a second glance as the Ghosts walked back the way they came.

"Tyr's Blessings," said Lain - Jhennal realized she'd stop them from speaking that blasphemous name - "Were they there the whole time?"

"Silence Dwarf," She ordered. Lain and his large mouth were becoming annoying. Was going to keep his mouth open always? It seemed he had no grasp of the situation. He would become tiresome quickly. And, she could already smell the fear on him. Did she have much use for a scared slave? She placed a hand on the door and emptied a bit of mana into it. It recognized her with a click and pushed itself open.

The pungent odor of sex drafted into her nose with a slight breeze. The soft groans and screams of Elves, Humans, and Orcs echoed into the hall.

"What in Oblivion..." muttered Cleitus.

Finally, she thought, A proper saying.

"What in Oblivion..." muttered Cleitus.

It took something truly spectacular to surprise Kalan. After being raised by Alatar and having been in the Rangers since the age of ten, he thought nothing could surprise him. Clearly, he was wrong. They entered onto the second floor of a large circular room. Next to them were levels of seats and tables that allowed one to look down to the first floor. Male and female Drow both sat in droves witnessing what was happening below them. A large circular floor was about ten to twenty paces beneath them. It reminded Kalan of the Arena in Stormcrown. It was what was taking place in the Arena that shocked him.

Five Elven and Human Women were mating with Orcs, and Warcheifs no less. One Orc had an Elf bent over, restraining her by the arms a green penis into her from behind. Another human was riding an Orc who was laid on the ground, her cunt swallowing his green member. This was repeated with three other Orcs across the Arena floor.

It hadn't surprise Kalan the Drow took slaves - Even some cultures who worshipped Tyr and the Gardener kept the practice, though under a different name, but this was truly the most depraved thing he'd ever seen.

"You cursed Drow..." he muttered. "What in Oblivion is going on here?" Jhannel gave him a wicked, sultry smile.

"Do you like what you see, Kalanian? Don't worry. I'm sure you'll make me proud in the breeding chamber - I've already chose the females you're to mate with." He didn't know how to respond. "You see, we Drow - I suppose you'd call our military arm the 'Syndicate' - have two major problems in our goal of the destruction of the Elves: first, we lack quality soldiers. The Orcs are strong in the field, yet they will never take a city like Skywatch, or fight the Elves or Men on equal terms - they simply lack the capacity. Second, we need to recreate the Blood of the Ancestors to even stand a chance of destroying the Elves - The mages we produce simply aren't strong enough. "We've found the answer to both: selective breeding. By selecting those among us who have the ability of the Ancestors and taking those from the Humans and Elves who have it as well, and breeding them, we shall transform the Drow into a new race: one with the magical ability to turn your cities and everyone in them to ash. We shall become the Ancients! "To make better soldiers common humans and Orcs will suffice. Yet the high-quality stock will have to serve both." She touched his shoulder and he looked down into her eyes. What was he feeling? Some sort of... bond? He stepped back, and the feeling dissipated. She gave him a knowing smile. "Do you see, Kalanian? You will serve both Drow and common whores here at my behest. You belong to me."

"You can rest in Oblivion, you damned whore."

If only I had a weapon, he thought. He likely couldn't break out of wherever they were with the Ghosts here, but he could take quite a few of them with him if only he had a weapon. That would surely shut this Elf Bitch up. He would die, but it would certainly be better than living as cattle. She brought a finger to his lips. Again, he felt some connection form only to break once he stepped back again. He felt some trace of it remain. What she doing? Why did she insist on touching him?

"Careful, Kalanian. Most masters would beat you for such an outburst. I can't have you talking like this in front of my friends I'm about to introduce you to."

"You could never beat me." She gave him a knowing smile. Again, she stepped forward and placed her hand on the side of his face, giving it a smooth caress.

"The Blood of the Ancients is strong in you, Kalanian - or can I call you Kalan now? Or Kal?" He stepped back, and her hand fell, causing the bond to dissipate again.

What is she doing?

"Don't touch me, woman."

"Nimi!" They all turned to see a Drow woman of about Jhannel's age. (Only Tyr knew what that was - she could be twenty or twenty-hundred). She had the same dark grey skin tone as Jhannel, but with a slight purplish tint. Her eyes were an unnantrual icy blue, just like Jhannel's.

"Nadia!" said Jhannel with a hug. "I've missed you ever much, sister."

"Yes," responded Nadia. "I've heard of you awful campaign. You have to tell me all about it." Kalan wanted to groan - It seemed women were still women, even if they were psychotic elf slavers.

"Oh, I will, sister. Months of waiting around far from home, just to wait for an opportunity for an ambush. Xavin has the worst stories from that episode - by the way where is my husband?"

"Right here."

They turned to see a male Drow who seemed a bit older than Jhannel with bright-grey skin and long pale hair walking towards them. His robes were black, and he carried a staff in his right. His eyes were a dark violet. Kalan immediately recognized as the Drow from the battlefield. It seemed Ralph did as well - as he tried to look away as the man approached. He greeted Jhannel with a hug and kiss on the lips. "Were you talking about me, NImi? And Nadia, good to see you!" He said with a smile. "And this," he turned to the four nude humans, staring them up and down like a farmer judging cattle. "These were the ones captured on the battlefield. we have more, you know. These aren't necessary to keep alive.". He stopped when he reached Kalanian. "You. We will have fun breaking you, Human. I'll make sure the Warmaides pulverize your pelvis in that chamber - then, I'll make sure the Warchief uses you ass as a cumbucket. Do you understand?" He raised his staff as if to hit him.

Oh, I wish, thought Kalan. Based on how he'd seen this Drow command Void-Energy, he didn't even need a weapon to kill him. His hands would suffice, and he could then use the staff to take out as many as he could. He would go down in legend - the Ranger and was briefly enslaved only to kill a stadium of them nude. The Bards would surely make a joke of that one.

Jhannel grabbed the staff before Xavin brought it down. "Maybe that's not the best idea, Xavin. We want to leave him intact for breeding, don't we?"

"A hard hand is used to disciple our most rowdy of slaves - you know this Nimi. The Outworlders do not know of their inferiority: They must be taught." Jhannel frowned. She likely had an inkling of what would happen if Xavin had his way. She turned to Kalan and spat near his feet.

"The Outworlder will know of his status soon, Randii." Kalan didn't know anything about the Drow, but that was surely a term for husband. "For now, the Breeding will suffice - we don't wish to harm our stock after all. This Human could fetch a good price on the market even after we use him - if unharmed." His features softened.

"Oh... yes I suppose." He looked back to Jhannel. "You better do what she tells you, slave. You've no idea the status of those who command you."

"Go rest in Oblivion, Drow. Tyr's Blessings upon you."

"Wha-"

"Why don't you go wait with Nadia in the stands?" asked Jhannel. "You'll watch him get what he deserves in the chamber." Xavin gave him a look only to be on his way. Xavin reminded him of

"Great," said Kalan, "a pussy-whipped Drow. Never thought I'd see the day." Ralph and Cleitus couldn't help but snicker. Kalan realized they hadn't said a word this entire time. He hoped they didn't start to like this new lifestyle - walking around nude with some Drow Master fucking Orcs and Elves. It was ludicrous. For now, he'd do as they asked, but the minute he saw a chance, he planned to find a weapon, his men, and bust out of the place, killing as many Drow possible while doing it. Jhannel probably knew that as well. It was safe to assume that his men had been imprisoned in the farthest spot from their original location as possible while still being in the City. It was also safe to assume he would always have at least one Ghost watching him. Sometimes a flicker of air or slight surge of mana would tell they were there, but not where they were. The bastards were damned good at concealing themselves.

"This way, men." she led them down some stairs into a small cell which opened into the Arena. "I've chosen these females specifically for you all: don't disappoint me."

Kalan flicked stared at the cell door, unsure of what to expect. It had taken over an hour for the Orcs to have their fun. They were then quickly cleared from the Arena to make room for them.

"I suppose it's our turn now," said Lain. Kalan still had trouble addressing the Dwarf. How could he be so stupid as too tell the Drow he was a Ranger?

"I'm a bit unsure as to what we're doing here," asked Cleitus. "Does she just want us to fuck females of other species? For what exactly?"

"She wasn't clear on what she said," Kalan responded, "But I assume these Drow want to create a smarter race of Orcs by interbreeding them with Human and Elves. They're also selecting the strongest Elves, Drow, and Men they can find to make the Drow stronger - capable of standing up to Elves and Men. It's a bunch of cow's dung." But was it really? He had no idea how long this 'plan' had been going on. A Berserker Orc with knowledge to create armor and use magic was certainly an unpleasant thought. As for the Drow themselves: increasing the magical potential of a race through special breeding was something he'd never heard of. However, the Ancients were a powerful people, directly descended from the gods themselves. The thought of any race recreating that was a scary thought.

"Why can't they do that themselves?" Asked Ralph. "Plenty of Drow dick up there for plenty of Orc pussy."

"I think... the Drow see themselves as 'above' other people, so they need humans and Elves to do their Orc fucking for them."

"Just like Elves back home."

"Yeah."

"I dunno," said Lain. "This seems like cake compared to the Mountains. Fuck some Orcs, get three meals a day, walk around naked. What's there not to like? I say we stay here." Kalan was disgusted. How could any man be content to live life in a cage, with others telling him what to do and when?

"You would live the rest of your life as cattle, Lain?" Asked Kalan. "I'm breaking out of here once we find where my men are held and where we can get some weapons for them. You can fuck Orcs for the rest of your life if you like."

"Now, I didn't mean it like that... just look at the benefits versus risks. Those Ghosts could have killed us anytime and we wouldn't have known where it came from. I'm not taking a foot anywhere until we know where they are - I'll live a longer life here, thank you very much. Where would we go anyways!? The rest of the One-Eyes must be wiped out already, and we have no idea where we are."

"All valid points," replied Kalan with a nod. "The Dragon's Nest Mountains continue northwest until the end of the known world. We could be anywhere north of Star's Point, to south of Skywatch or the Imperial City."

"Skywatch, that's the Elven Capital, isn't it? Tyr's mercy that's far off." Said Ralph.

"It is. As for the Drow Ghosts: I can often tell when they are around, but I can't pinpoint their precise location. Their skill in Illusion is far too strong. I'll to learn more about it before I can conjure a spell to counter it."

The cell door flew open before them and the talking in the stands grew quiet. Kalan realized these people were legitimately excited to watch fuck Orcs or die trying. Tyr's Blessings these people are mad. They treat fucking like some kind of sport. Kalan realized that this would be his first time having sex. He wondered what his Squadron would think once he told them of how he lost his virginity to an Orc. He wondered what Alatar would think - The old Elf had asked Kalan to keep it in his pants until he managed to convince a certain woman to meet him (he had refused to say who he had in mind). It hadn't matter to Kalan - he had no interest in prostitutes. He did the benefit of a long-term partner, but he was never in one place long enough to get to know someone. Besides, the open skies and wilderness were all the adventure he would ever need. Yet he couldn't help but grin imagining the look of horror on the Old Elf's face once Kalan told him he'd lost his virginity to an Orc.

"You happy about something, Kalan?" Asked Cleitus.

"I just realized that I'm about to lose my virginity to an Orc." Cleitus' jaw almost hit the floor. He looked down a Kalan's groin, then back again. Why did people keep doing that?

"Wait, are you telling me you're a virgin?"

"Yeah, never been with a woman before."

"But a guy like you... didn't you have tons of chances?"

"Well I was raised by an Elven Mage, there was a lot of travel. Then I joined the Rangers at age ten, so didn't really get the chance to be around women... at all really. Didn't seem like big deal anyways."

"This is probably the strangest day of my life. First you and know that Orc - it's probably going to rip my head off as it fucks me to death." The door opened to their left, a Drow woman popped her head in. Kalan recognized her as Jhannel's sister Nadia. "What are you all doing? Go forward, they're waiting." They left their cage, sailing into the Arena.

The cage on the opposite side flew open. Four Orc women emerged from a metal frame. They were nude, with thick thighs, and best shaped bottoms Kalan had ever laid eyes on (which was few). Their breasts seemed about the size of his head. They stood at least half-a-head taller thank Kalan, and a full two heads taller than the rest. Their tusks were more like sharped teeth which pointed upwards, as was common for female Orcs. They carried spears in one hand. Their set back in long black braids decorated with various buttons. Their eyes were red with Berserker rage. Lain began to mutter a prayer to Tyr.

"Damnation. They're in Berserker state. And they're Warmaidens as well," said Kalan.

"What's a Warmaiden?" Asked Ralph.

"Typically, the strongest female in an Orc tribe, and mate to the Warchief." Kalan looked across his group. He could almost smell the fear off them. They were right to be scared. Most men couldn't handle a Berserker alone, let along nude and unarmed. "To the Orcs, sex is violence, and violence is sex. Typically, a male Orc must prove himself to his mate in combat. I suppose they intend to fight us first, and then have the mating afterwards."

"You mean... we have to fight them?" Asked Cleitus.

"Yes," Said Kalan with a nod. He looked to their opponents. The two in the middle seemed the most dangerous, with their large biceps and strong abdomens. Their eyes were a deeper red, indicating a further gone Berserker state. He'd have to take those two if they all were to stand a chance at staying alive.