Dame Aylin is captured by two drow priestesses during a mission to rescue a child. The two priestesses see in the celestial warrior an opportunity they can't pass up.
Contains: Futa Dame Aylin, Drow Female (2), Threesome, Triple Dom Dynamic, Huge Breasts, Huge Cock (24+''), Ass Play, Rimming, Female Masturbation, Titfucking, Vaginal Sex, Using Sex To Power Magic, Fucked On The Floor, Standing Cowgirl, Blowjob, Throatfucking, Swallowing Semen, Cum On Face, Cum On Tits, Cum Bloating, Excessive Semen, Canon Divergence
βοΈ βοΈ βοΈ
"Γ, She Who Guides, offer your daughter the strength to bring justice to these darkened lands. I humbly beseech thee to bestow upon me your light so that I may dispel the shadows in their hearts."
Aylin straightened, sliding her sword into its scabbard and flexing her wings. They were of little use in the cramped tunnels of the Underdark, but they still made for an intimidating display against less-intelligent foes who would not be deterred by her heavy armour and gleaming blade.
She furrowed her brow, hand gripping the pommel of her weapon nervously as she looked ahead into the small tunnel. Were it not for her ability to see in the dark, granted by her divine lineage, she would have been completely lost in a place where the only natural light was the bioluminescence of fungi or other vegetation. But these were rare, and so she relied on her limited ability to see in the dark.
While she could see in shades of grey for a hundred feet or so, she very well knew that the beasts and foes of this most dangerous realm could sense her from further away, and in ways she could not even begin to comprehend. She knew, too, that there were eyes upon her at all times, belonging to creatures too afraid of taking her on.
Any foe that would challenge her would have to be mighty indeed, or incredibly cunning. Though she feared little, she had heard tales of the vicious nature of the cavernous realm.
Not only were the fauna and flora of the place an ever-looming threat, but the aasimar could feel herself growing increasingly frustrated at her lack of sex. For not only was she one of the most powerful champions of the Church of SelΓ»ne, she was also undoubtedly one of the most hung, for between her legs hung a fat, ever eager she-prick, long as any woman's arm and easily as thick.
The priests and priestesses (mostly the priestesses) of the Church had told her that her cock was a blessing, a tool to spread the light of the Goddess upon FaerΓ»n, but she mostly found herself spreading legs, instead. A smirk formed upon her lips as she recalled her last such conquest. The woman, a buxom Turmishite, had made no qualms about converting to the faith of the Moonmaiden after their brief dalliance.
The sooner she completed her quest, the sooner she would be back to ploughing cunt.
Aylin's armoured boots made little sound as she slowly advanced, ready to draw her blade at a moment's notice.
She had not come here for personal glory, or on some vague quest for justice. She had come to rescue an elven child, captured and taken by a drow raiding party. The clergy had responded immediately to the attack and sent their most powerful weapon to retrieve the youngling.
And while drow were known to be able to cover their tracks and lay waste to pursuers, Aylin had the Moonmaiden to guide her. Or so she hoped, for the light of the moon did not reach the bowels of the earth.
At last, coming upon a structure in the distance, Aylin stepped behind a rock. At the centre of a massive cavern stood a trio of stalagmites that, judging by the illuminated windows, were inhabited. Stone steps had been hewn from them, circling upwards. Though well over two hundred feet away, she could see dark forms moving through those windows while others patrolled its perimeters.
The place was well guarded, she surmised, for few creatures would give their positions away so readily in the Underdark. And while she was no expert on the matter, the grace of those dark forms immediately conjured up images of the dark elves. Perhaps, she thought, these drow still held the child. Or perhaps they could be persuaded to give her the information she needed.
Taking a deep breath, she set forth. She was no coward, but she would not rush headlong into a battle she could not win, especially not when failure meant the possible death of innocents. Stealth was not an option, however, as the sounds of her armour and her large white wings would make such a task impossible. She briefly considered removing her armour, but she would then find herself unprotected, should she be required to face off against the vile elves.
Every step towards the structure felt like it might be her last, as she attempted to move from one stalagmite to the next.
Her eyes looked up to the dark forms above, searching for signs that she might have been spotted. The patrols continued moving as they had before, and there seemed to be no unusual activity. By some miracle of the Moonmaiden, she had not yet been spotted. Brimming with confidence, the divine warrior stepped to one of the dark iron doors at the base of the smallest of the three buildings that made up the stalagmite-complex.
The door itself had, as was typical of the drow, a spider motif upon it. The paladin inspected the door and saw no traps. And, so, she pushed it open slowly, making sure to make as little noise as possible. She slipped inside and closed the heavy door behind her. The interior was surprisingly warm, though the room itself had little of note within, save for a table and chair in a corner. Two exits, one to her left and to her right, led to more dimly lit passageways.
With little to differentiate the two passageways, and with little time to spare, she turned right.
No sooner had she begun walking down the passage than she heard the opening of a door, merely ten feet from her. She had not seen the door and cursed herself for it. From it emerged a male drow, the swords upon the slender figure's waist immediately confirming his status as a fighter among the dark elves. His red eyes immediately spotted her, and he began unsheathing the deadly looking blades.
Aylin did not hesitate, drawing her own weapon immediately and closing the distance between her and the elf. His two swords came up in a cross, blocking Aylin's downward slash. Sparks flew as the blades met, and the elf stepped back to regain his footing, nearly losing his balance from the sheer power behind the paladin's attack.
The grey-skinned male quickly looked around, and Aylin knew he was considering flight. She also knew that she would not be able to catch up to him, for her wings were of little use in the small corridors of the drow outpost. And so he disengaged from the parry, spinning about the surprised woman with the legendary speed of his kind. Sharp though his blades may have been, however, his strikes only meet the mithral of her plate armour, bouncing off harmlessly.
Aylin grinned and brought her wing down upon him, trapping the elven warrior against her own body. Surprised, the male could not prepare an adequate defence against the move, and found himself completely helpless against the crushing power of that single, white-feathered wing. The paladin could feel him struggling against her, and heard the clattering of his blades as they fell to the floor.
Giving one final squeeze, she heard the snapping of bone and the elf's lifeless form fell upon the ground next to her. She offered his soul a quick prayer before moving on, worried that the sounds of that brief encounter may have alerted nearby occupants.
Her legs carried her up a flight of stone stairs before she came upon another metal door. She opened the door, finding herself upon a bridge connecting the first structure to the second, larger one. A feminine figure, clad in dark robes, standing at the centre of the bridge. A wicked grin upon her lips, she pushed her hands outwards, with thumbs touching. The drow's fingertips seemed to burst into flame as a sheet of white-hot fire surged forth, towards Aylin.
The angelic warrior clenched her teeth and brought forth one of her wings to protect herself, blocking much of the spell. The heat of that spell was such, however, that she could feel her feathers being singed by the powerful spell.