The Warlock's Trial

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Futanari Story inspired by World of Warcraft.
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"There it is," Mjen waved his torch through the cavern's opening burning off a number of spider webs that had gathered over the millenia. "I told you we would find it." He looked back over his shoulder to where Lhiren was still crawling over the edge of a damp rock formation that had made the last few hours of travel exceptionally difficult. Her face, lit by the small sphere of magic fire she had conjured, was bright pink from the effort. She got to her feet and wiped the cave scum onto the green fabric of her robe where it immediately lit and fell to ash.

"This is where they put it?" Lhiren pushed her dark hair out of her face.

"Undoubtedly," the Orc smiled and his lower canines gleamed in the firelight. "It's your map," he waved a tattered scroll toward the warlock.

They had been exploring the cave on the far side of the ancient, Orc fortress for more than two days, sleeping in the wet darkness and encountering everything from cave bats to shoulder-deep rivers of water. Some of the cavern rooms had pits that seemed impossibly deep and rock formations that seemed to move like shadows.

It had been one of the most grueling physical journeys Lhiren had ever embarked on. Even the final tests, the proving ground for those who chose the path of the warlock hadn't left her as tired as the cave had. There were cuts and bruises she would have to address with magic later.

"Come," Mjen grinned, "let us gather your prize." He stepped into the cavernous room and waved his torch back and forth.

"Yes," Lhiren waved her hand and the little spark of fire that floated beside her flared brighter, "my prize." She stepped into the room and knew immediately that the map had been right. Along the walls near the door were markings and small wooden structures that looked like single rooms. She stepped over to one and saw a small meditation mat, some clay vessels, and smudges of black smoke from the empty oil lamps that hung against the walls.

"This is where they came to meditate," Mjen stared around the room and Lhiren could see that the place meant something to him, to his people. The ancient fortress, once the stronghold of the Orcs, was an almost mythical place. The beginning of the Orc's greatest heroes began in the fortress above them.

Mjen started toward the center of the room. "The sky once poured through those crystals," he pointed to a place along the ceiling where massive blue and red stones had been set into the walls. A few were missing, broken by the collapse of the fortress above, but the light from Mjen's torch and Lhiren's fire was enough to lend the chamber some of it's old luster.

Lhiren almost couldn't believe it. She had done it. The great Orc's spellbook rested on a simple stone altar in the center of the room. Everything was exactly like the legends had said.

Surrounded by piles of wax - the remains of long dead candles that once stood vigil around the sacred text - the book sat atop a pillar of carefully placed and glyphed stones. She swallowed hard and glanced at Mjen.

"Still think you can break the spell?" Mjen stood a few feet away looking examining the glyphs and guessing that the spells would be even tougher than Lhiren had thought.

"I believe so," Lhiren stared at the small, wooden-bound book and the symbols engraved around it. "We are going to need a few things," she toward the dilapidated huts that had once housed the most powerful warlocks in the land.

"Fetch me a shard of the topaz, the blue stone, from over there," she pointed toward the far wall, "I'll get a scrap of cloth from one of the mats." She started across the room and it felt like she was floating.

For three years, she had sought the ancient text. She had wandered north beyond the great ice castle of Kal and south of the barren wastes but only to hear the stories, or gain some tidbit of knowledge - never to find anything real. Over the past months she had begun to doubt herself, to wonder if finding the book was even possible.

Across the Great Sea, she had wandered the forest of the Dark Elves and the Ogre plains, sought out the mighty shaman Gh'lur, and then the witches of Falls Vail. Scraps were all she had ever gained, the next leg of her journey, a torn map, a story, a whisper about the legendary Orc and where his followers had hidden the book.

Now the exhaustion and frustration melted away. She had made it, had found the book, and soon, she would hold the secrets of the mighty warlock.

Lhiren tore a scrap of fabric from one of the mats and stared down at the Orcish pattern still visible beneath the grime of a thousand years.

"How big a piece?" Mjen's voice echoed across the milky darkness.

Lhiren sighed, "The size of your fist is plenty." She thought of the spell she had written to break the ancient glyph magic the warlocks used. She was confident, but unsure. The spell had never been used on something as large as the altar or with bindings so old. Some of the glyphs she didn't know and legend warned that the highest warlocks ever taught by the mighty Orc had protected the book of spells so that it couldn't fall into the hands of anyone with nefarious intent.

The Orcs did well. Lhiren looked back towards the stones and the book. Even from across the massive cavern, she could sense the protective barrier, the magic that had been imbued upon the structure were impossibly strong.

"Will this do?" Mjen stepped across the cavern and opened his hand. He showed the warlock the chunk of topaz he had retrieved from one of the shattered sky stones, a large blue piece the size of a knife blade.

"Yes," she glanced at the tattered bit of cloth in her hand.

"What else? You said you had a list?" Mjen's eyes glittered in the torch light and Lhiren thought back to their first meeting.

She had been sitting outside at the only inn in Riven, a small affair run by a couple of Dwarves who did nothing but bicker and snipe at each other, when one her contacts, a thief by the name of Anha brought the young Orc to her table.

"This is the guy," Anha had sat down and motioned for Mjen to do the same.

She had looked the Orc over carefully then. There was no way to be sure Anha was right, but she had never known her to be wrong. "You're sure?" It still seemed like the appropriate question to ask.

"I would bet my left tit on it," Anha had kicked her feet up on an empty chair before looking around at the empty tables of the inn and shouting. "What's it take to get an ale around here?"

"Sure about what?" Mjen had looked confused, "whether or not I am a good guide?"

Lhiren had glanced at Anha then. "Yes, are you? The place we're going has not been visited in a very, very long time."

"You'd be hard-pressed to find a better guide through the old Orc capital." Mjen had smiled and his face had almost disappeared his mouth was so big.

The Orc hadn't been wrong. Mjen had led her through more cave tunnels and passageways than an Undead capital had streets. But that was only part of the guide's responsibilities.

She slipped the small leather satchel over her head and started toward the altar. "We're going to need one more thing, but let me get everything ready first."

Mjen followed her to the foot of the altar. "My ancestors were taught in these caverns," his voice was soft. "I come from a long line of locks that goes back further than anyone can remember, but I don't have the gift."

I can't wait until you stop talking. Lhiren tuned the gravel-toned voice of the Orc out and set the little patch of cloth on the ground, before she laid the piece of topaz on top. "You're related to the great one himself."

"Me?" Mjen laughed, "no, not quite, but I am an Orc and my great, great, great grandparents were warlocks so there's a good chance they learned the craft from Gh'den himself."

As soon as the name was uttered, the stones of the altar changed. The gray, moss-covered stones transformed into what looked like polished emerald. Mjen's eyes went wide and he took a few steps back. "Did I..."

"Yes," Lhiren pulled out a small knife and set it beside the stone and cloth, "the magic knows it's master."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." Mjen apologized.

"Quite alright," she pulled a small, leather pouch free, reached inside, and pinched a small amount of earth in between her fingers. "Mjen?" She looked over her shoulder, "I want you to know that you have done what no one else has been able to do."

Mjen smiled. "Thank you, I thought it was a great adventure. Your map did most of the work, I mean, I got us past a few tricky spots, but..."

"You did well," Lhiren pulled her hand from the pouch and blew the white dust toward the Orc. "Thank you." She drew a strange symbol through the dust's haze and looked into the Orc's small eyes.

"It was really no trouble, I mean..." his nose tickled and he sneezed. "Sorry about tha..." Now his lips felt numb and everything seemed a little blurry. "Oh, wow, no really, it was such a great..." He felt a chill move over his body. He rubbed his thick hands along the green skin of his forearms. "What is...?" His tongue felt cold and then seemed to stop working. His eyes, usually small, went wild with fear. He took a step but only landed one foot before he couldn't lift the other.

His breathing slowed. His eyes glazed over. And he stood as still as a the altar he stood near.

Lhiren stared at the Orc, caught in the entrapment spell, stunned, and unable to move. "I should put you to sleep, but I am afraid you would die if I did."

Mjen didn't move. He could have been made from stone and painted as still as he was. Lhiren stared at him. She had no trouble with the loss of the Orc, killing people was not something she enjoyed, but she could live with it. Besides, Mjen knew far too much.

She stood up and walked over to him. She had never used the spell in close quarters before and there was something fascinating about the way the Orc had simply stopped where he stood. Wondering if he would feel like stone, she reached out and touched the dark, green skin but, to her surprise, it was still warm and fleshy. She ran her fingertips down the Orc's arm and watched the thick wiry hairs spring back from under her finger. She traced the curve of each of Mjen's teeth and stared into his eyes.

Since they had gotten to the cave, she had been fascinated with Mjen. He was unlike every other Orc she had ever known or seen. Instead of the massive brutes the Orcs usually were, Mjen was like the runt of a litter, only a hand taller than she was. But he was shaped more like the brutes than a human with broad shoulders, and thick limbs. She had spent a few of their nights together wondering what he would feel like under her blanket.

Now she ran a hand under his shirt and across his chest where she found muscles as thick as rope across his belly. Unlike the muscle and tone of a normal Orc, she was impressed by Mjen's form. She liked the idea of strength, raw force. She ran her hand down across the front of his pants and felt the flacid penis. I bet it's huge.

But the only way she would ever know would be to break the spell and there simply wasn't time for that. She ran her fingers through his wiry hair and smiled. "I will see to it that your family receives the sum we agreed upon." She wondered if the Orc could hear her. "I meant it, you did something amazing."

She turned back to the altar, the reason she had come, and took a deep breath. Soon, she would have the power of Gh'den himself, the legendary spell book of the first being to tap into the void and nether dimensions. She pulled a small vial of colored sand from the leather pouch over her shoulder and drew a circle around the altar. After which she pulled another vial of sand and drew another ring around the first, this one green.

Every step she took around glowing green stones made her heartbeat faster. How many years? She remembered the first time she had heard of the mighty Gh'den, sitting in the circle of the learned her master read from the chronicle. And with the spell, Gh'den opened a portal to a place no one knew existed.

Lhiren picked up the scroll and started the incantation. The blue sand became a circle of light, pulsing with every syllable of the Orchish she spoke. She concentrated on the spell, doing her best to think of nothing else. The second ring of sand burst into angry red flames that glowed violet against the blue light of the first binding ring. She finished the first incantation and picked up the knife.

"Now the rest of your responsibilities." She lifted Mjen's hand, pricked his finger, and then her own. "Blood relation." She mixed their blood and picked up the blue sky stone.

I'm going to be able to summon demons. She stared into the crystal and spoke began the spell to fool the warlock bindings. Light blue veins of magic began to move around her like sparks from a blue fire. She closed her eyes and thought of each part of the spell.

Within moments, she was completely surrounded by a million tiny bits of magic energy. She picked up the scrap of prayer mat and stepped in between the binding circles. The magic moved around her as if she were underwater surrounded by a blue bubble of air.

Her heart raced and she held her breath as she stared down at the ancient book of spells. She reached out not completely sure that she would be able to or if the magic protecting her wouldn't break and turn her into a pile of ashes. But her hand moved until her fingers touched the hard cover of the little book.

She relaxed. Everything was working. I'm touching it. Gh'den's spellbook is right there. She traced her fingertip across the intricate carvings Gh'den had cut into the wood over the span of his life. Some symbols she knew, others she didn't. She slipped it into her hand and stepped out of the binding circles with the book.

The blue light around her slowly faded. The emerald light that came from the stones disappeared. And the binding circles became nothing but sand around a neatly stacked pile of gray stones. She stood still. The air moved around her. I've got it. The thought slowly made it's way through the haze of her excitement.

She turned the book over in her hands. She could barely believe it. Her hands shook as she touched the binding and cover. I've got it. I'm holding the spell book of the most powerful warlock ever.

Carefully, she opened the front cover of the book and saw the slanted curve of the warlock's writing, the thin scratching of nib and flowing ink across thick, uneven paper. Strange twisting energies. Powers culled from the fel flames. Nether regions. Portals to the unknown. Her eyes scanned the words as she flipped through the pages.

She saw the Orcish word for minion and stopped. The legend of Gh'den said that he bent the will of even the most powerful demons, the captains of the great masters beyond the portals obeyed his every whim. It was said that with a few words the mighty warlock could summon a demon strong enough to lay waste to an army, or a horde of imps that could set a city on fire.

Succubus - Dh'lencia. Lhiren ran her fingertip across the scratchings and symbols Gh'den had used to create the spell of summoning. No warlock had ever succeeded in pulling a demon as strong as a succubus from the twisting void.

Futanari Sex Story - The Warlock's Trial

Lhiren took a deep breath. This is what I came for. I will do what Gh'den did and more. I will be the next Gh'den, the next legendary master. She read the incantation. Through the door of darkness, she translated the Orchish in her thoughts, you are commanded to appear. Serve your master and walk beside me. Answer my call, heed my words, obey your master. She opened her hand and green flames sprang from her palm, until she held a sphere of fel flame the size of her head.

A breeze moved around the cavern stirring the musty air like a tunnel had been opened somewhere in the cave, but Lhiren did not stop reading the spell.

The strange flames dripped from her hand and pooled on the floor in front of her, still burning, but moving like it was alive, an ooze of greenish flame driven by her will.

She focused her energy as the power welled inside her.

The fire became a pool of flame on the cavern floor. Lhiren's eyes began to glow. "Answer my call, heed my words!" Her words echoed off the stone walls. Her robe, billowing in the strange wind, shimmered and reflected the fel flames. "Through the door of darkness..."

The flames disappeared leaving behind only a faintly glowing pool of sickly green light. "...obey your master." The green light shifted and moved. "Serve your master and walk beside me." She glanced up and a form began to take shape, rising from the pool.

"Ha ha ha," a woman's laughter echoed around the cave and a chill rolled down Lhiren's back.

"Answer my call, heed my words," Lhiren shouted the words as the glowing light of the pool disappeared and left her in darkness.

"Answer your call?" The woman's voice sounded like it came from every direction at once.

Lhiren took a deep breath and held the book tight. She was afraid, but not terrified. A succubus was not like an imp, a succubus was powerful enough to command demon armies. It would make sense that it would have some...personality. "Show yourself!" Lhiren thought of a binding spell and wondered if she had the strength to hold a being as strong as a minion of Gh'den.

Darkness surrounded her. The earth below her feet shook and she heard the crunch of crushed stone as something stepped forward, past the altar. She wanted to cast light, but decided against it. Instead, she stood still and waited. The being took another step toward her and she could feel it. Not a great deal of heat, but like she was standing next to a campfire or a cook stove still warm after a meal. It's either bending over or as tall as me then.

And then it opened it's eyes.

Lhiren sucked in a breath. The demon was close enough that she could have kissed it. "What do we have here?" The glowing, emerald eyes narrowed and Lhiren felt the beings breath, warm and damp, roll across her face like smoke.

"I am your master," she couldn't believe how sheepish the words sounded.

Light filled the cavern as every lamp along the wall lit and dripped the greenish fire.

Lhiren's eyes went wide. What stood in front of her was like nothing she had ever seen before.

The two stared at each other for a moment, each taking in the existence of the other, each measuring the strength, power, and beauty.

Lhiren ran her eyes over the demon. It was only slightly taller than she was and, for the most part, built in the fashion of a female.

From the head, where long, dark hair fell across flesh-colored shoulders, were two obsidian horns that emerged from the back and rolled forward to dangerous points near her forehead. Her ears were longer than a humans and pointed like those of the Elven people, but her face was almost perfectly human, with a narrow nose and full lips.

She was female from the waist up as well, with large breasts held tight against her body by carefully wrapped black cloth with strange silver bandings. Her arms and hands were like Lhiren's except the demon seemed fond of longer nails that were colored silver like the brocade work of her clothing.

Two legs descended from the wrapped black and cloth, but both legs were shaped like those of a fawn or a horse and covered in short black hair that reflected the torch light. Her humans have feet, the demon had black cloven hooves adorned with more of the silver brocade.

"What is your name?" Lhiren spoke the words in Orchish.

The demons eyes fell on the book in the warlock's hand. "You know who I am, Dh'lencia, a succubus. I was your master's minion." The demon spoke the common tongue.

"Dh'lencia," Lhiren spoke the demons name.

The demon grinned. "A human warlock?" She looked Lhiren over with an appraising eye. "Why did you summon me?" Her long black tail swept around Dh'lencia's waist and then moved across her thighs.

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