Barbarian Tales

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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West Wall, City of Yeledor

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Atop the wall, Girn the barbarian was a fearsome presence, like a mountain of muscle and fury. His strong hands gripped the halberd that had been given him. His dark eyes were fixed on one particular figure in the distance.

The necromancer Voxir Doomweaver was out there, floating above the writhing mass of undead, his tattered robes billowing like storm clouds. His eyes glowed with an unnatural light and his hands crackled with eldritch power. Every gesture he made brought new horrors into being--rotting corpses clawing their way out of the earth, fleshless skeletons that marched with mechanical precision.

Girn knew that as long as the necromancer lived, the battle was lost. Yeledor's warriors would eventually prove powerless against the unending tide of undead. Every dead soldier added to Voxir's army. The breaching of the walls and burning of the city was but a matter of time. All that would remain of Yeledor would be dust and bones. But Girn was no ordinary warrior. He was a barbarian, a beast in human form, a force of nature, graced by the Blessing of Eternal Summer by Astris of the Forest Nymphs, wielder of the Greataxe of Magic Protection -- before he lost it -- and liberator of the legendary sorceress Lyra Frostkiss. He had sworn to spill the blood of this foul necromancer.

The wooden handle of the halberd creaked under his firm grip as he settled himself comfortably in the bucket of the catapult. He breathed out slowly. "You're sure you can catch me?" he asked Eden at his side.

The former general of Voxir smiled. "The fearless barbarian afraid of heights?"

He squinted his eyes at her. "No. I look forward to soaring through the sky, plummeting to the ground, breaking every bone in my body, and having my brains leak out from my cracked skull." He shook his head. "Why am I trusting a former ally of the necromancer?"

Eden looked behind her at the mindless elves under her control. Wood elf Helen and dark elf Maeve stared at their master, silently waiting for their next command. She faced Girn again and said with a wink, "Because hot women are your weakness?"

"Wha--"

"Release!" Eden roared.

The catapult's arm snapped forward with a deafening crack, and Girn was launched into the sky as a living projectile. The wind tore at him, whipping past his face as he soared over the battlefield. Below, the undead horde seemed to crawl like ants over the breached walls and started to spread through the maze of city streets. Ahead, the necromancer's dark form grew larger, the only target that mattered.

Girn howled like a beast, his battle-cry echoing through the air. Voxir looked up, his glowing eyes widening in surprise. He raised a hand, and a bolt of dark energy screamed toward Girn. He twisted his body, the blast grazing his side, searing his flesh. Pain flared, but he ignored it, focusing every fibre of his being on the strike.

With a final roar, Girn swung his halberd overhead as he closed the distance. The weapon arced through the air, its edge shimmering with lethal intent. The necromancer raised his other hand, too late to stop the blow. The axe-blade cleaved through his outstretched arm, cutting it clean from his body in a spray of black ichor. The necromancer shrieked, a sound that tore through the heavens, as Girn's momentum carried him forward.

He collided with the necromancer, driving him downward, their bodies entwined in a deadly embrace. The ground rushed up to meet them. Girn punched the necromancer in the face, hearing the nose crack and breaking their embrace. Before he hit the ground with a bone-shattering impact, a halo surrounded the barbarian and he was lowered to the ground as gentle as a drifting feather. Eden had kept her promise. The necromancer crashed into the earth below him.

Girn's weapon was gone, lost in the collision of their bodies, but he still had his hands, his strength, and his fury. The necromancer lay crumpled at the bottom of a crater, his robes torn and the flesh of his cleaved-off arm charred as if the black ichor burned the stump from the inside. Voxir's magic had protected him from turning into mush upon impact. The necromancer was trying to rise, and upon seeing Girn standing over him, a devilish cackle escaped his lips.

"Don't mind if I unleash a beast of my own?" Voxir asked with a shrill voice.

The ground rumbled and from the Kynswood charged a massive monstrosity. It screeched and unfurled large leathery appendages on its back. Clouds of eldritch power billowed from the nostrils. Beating its wings, it buffeted Girn, and took to the air. Tearing his gaze from the undead dragon, Girn saw that Voxir had disappeared. Looking around, he noticed the necromancer floating up in the air again, a wicked grin directed at the barbarian in pure defiance.

Standing alone in the field before the West Wall of Yeledor, Girn witnessed the undead dragon dive down and open its mouth. He felt defeated as a blast of wicked, black fire cleared a portion of the wall. The undead did not hesitate and surged en masse over the wall, adding to the rampant undead rushing unhindered through the streets.

He wanted to scream out his rage at the failed attempt to end Voxir's life in one surgical strike. But then a thundering explosion echoed down from the palace overlooking the city.

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The Royal Tower, The Palace, City of Yeledor

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Princess Eleanora gasped for breath. The pleasure she received from her handmaiden's skilful hands was extraordinary. Glancing down, she saw Ruth eating her pussy. One set of fingers pumped in and out of Eleanora's soaking pussy. Ruth's other arm was straightened and the hand at the end was playfully kneading the princess's bosom.

Eleanora felt the pressure building like it had three times before. "Here it comes," she warned Ruth with a whimper. Not a moment later, the princess cried out and arched her back. Her legs trembled uncontrollably and from between them juices sprayed freely as she squirted in her handmaiden's face.

The pressure subsided, but the waves of pleasure from her orgasm kept rolling over her. Dizzy from four orgasms in a relative short time, Princess Eleanora took deep breaths to prevent blacking out. Unsteadily closing her legs, she made it clear for Ruth to withdraw.

"Thank you, Ruth," Eleanora said, "you're dismissed until later notice."

Alone in the room, Eleanora threw a thick blanket across her shoulders and went to the window for some fresh air. She faltered but was near enough to the window sill to rest her elbows on the cold stone and not crash to the floor. Pushing the window open, she had to quickly steady herself as the flooring underneath her feet trembled violently. It seemed the whole Royal Tower was shaking in its foundations.

She stared ahead at the Swan Tower and rubbed at her eyes in disbelief.

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West Wall, City of Yeledor

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The side of a tower erupted and another dragon appeared. This one was red and gold, large claws and pointy horns. Wide wings carried it towards the walls and it collided with the undead dragon in an explosion of black and red fire.

The new dragon was larger and succeeded in tearing chunks from undead dragon's body. Only mere moments after its appearance from the crumbling tower did the red dragon bite through the undead dragon's neck and beheaded the creature. Grabbing the lifeless body in its claws, it swung the undead dragon's corpse towards the hovering necromancer. Not waiting, the red dragon released blast after blast of roaring fire on the undead horde climbing the walls.

Voxir was squarely hit by the body of his monstrosity and the necromancer plummeted again to the ground.

With a snarl, Girn followed the trajectory and dashed away. He rushed into the cloud of dust and seized the dazed necromancer by the throat, lifting him into the air. Voxir's eyes were wide, but not with fear. Concentrating, the necromancer's mouth worked soundlessly as he tried to cast another spell. But Girn gave him no chance. With a brutal headbutt, he smashed the necromancer's nose and cracked his teeth with a sickening crunch.

"Beat me all you want, I will not die easily," Voxir chuckled, but his next words were snarled. "You know nothing of necromancers. And even less about liches!" Little bolts of red lightning darted between his fingers. "Before I've marched here, I've successfully turned myself into an undying master of magic. I'll rise again. I'm unkillable!"

"You sure?" Girn asked with an arrogant grin.

Voxir Doomweaver's smile vanished. His eyes darted left to right, sensing something was wrong. His mouth fell open. "What did you do?"

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Hours ago

Harrow Keep, Kyns Wood, West of Yeledor

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With an optimistic wink and chiming sounds echoing through the cold air Lady Madison vanished.

Eden cleared her throat. "Remember to introduce me more elaborately to her. She's ravishing." The goth woman beamed a smile. Lady Helen and Lady Maeve stood unblinkly next to her.

"Right, let's get out of here," Girn said.

"Wait," Eden said, "let's first do something that might prove vital in defeating Voxir."

The group retraced their steps, the journey down the tower and through the keep feeling lighter now that no obstacles barred their way. Eden led them into an underground labyrinth. She had to backtrack a couple of times but was confident she would find what she was looking for. Eventually, they stumbled upon a round chamber. For the ceiling to be this high they must've ventured quite a ways into the earth, Girn thought.

Pillars of stone supported the high roof and were adorned with unfamiliar carvings and symbols. As they walked, braziers at the foot of each pillar lit up as they went by. Ahead, upon a raised dais was stood a coffin within a circle of candles.

From a pile of bleached bones, Girn took up a shortsword but discarded it when he saw that the blade was rusted through and as brittle as a dried leaf. He might as well use his fists if danger presented itself. He glanced around the ominous place, certain there were enemies nearby.

"Relax, Voxir didn't think it necessary to guard his phylactery," Eden said. "His arrogance will be his downfall."

"Phylo-cockery-what?" Girn repeated.

"Phylactery. A material object housing one's soul. By keeping the soul anchored to this plane of existence, the subject can't die. His soul will not pass to the other side. And the powerful magic oozing from the phylactery makes it possible for that soul to regenerate a body. Foul magic, I know."

"No guards? Let's smash it then and get out of here."

Eden's lips pressed into a thin line. "It's not that simple. His phylactery is protected by a barrier I can't break with brute force. It's infused with ancient wards--powerful, dark magic that will repel any physical or magical assault."

Girn clenched his fists, impatient to hurry after the undead army. "Then how do we destroy it?"

Eden's face softened, but only for a moment. Her eyes flickered with an otherworldly light as she glanced toward the phylactery. "I can do it," she said, her voice growing quieter, "but I need time."

Girn's brow furrowed. "Time? For what?"

"To gather enough power," Eden replied, her tone serious. "Breaking through that kind of shield requires immense concentration and strength. I need to tap into the very essence of magic. But that kind of ritual will leave me weak."

Girn understood instantly. She was asking him to intervene if the resistance of the magical barrier proved too much and threatened to overwhelm her. Somehow he understood that his interference would be twofold, enhancing Eden's magical abilities on one hand, and sharing the load of magical defiance on the other. He grunted, straightening and puffing up his chest. "Then you'd better start."

Eden nodded, though the weight of the situation was etched in the lines of her face. She stepped forward, kneeling on the ground and closing her eyes. Her hands moved in intricate patterns as she began whispering ancient words under her breath. The air around her thickened with energy, humming with raw magic. Purple light, soft at first, began to emanate from her, casting long shadows in the flickering light of the burning city.

Girn stood over her, his eyes scanning the chamber. From the raised platform a strange mist began to swirl--an unnatural, sickly crimson fog rolling toward them.

Eden's voice grew stronger, louder, as her magic surged. The ground beneath them trembled, and faint lines of glowing energy pulsed from the earth, feeding into her. But with each moment, the fog grew closer, and Girn witnessed numerous shapes of ethereal monsters within it. Eden's brow furrowed, sweat beading on her forehead. "Helen, Maeve," she demanded the attention of her subjects, "help our barbarian get ready." Her voice strained as the power coursed through her.

The wood elf and dark elf under Eden's command flanked Girn and dropped to their knees. Lady Helen tore his loincloth off and Lady Maeve instantly grabbed his flaccid cock. Even in this state, Girn's member was more than a handful for the dark elf. Lady Helen shifted in front of him and took his soft cock in her mouth. Lady Maeve moved her hands to fondle his balls and caress his inner thighs as her companion sucked his cock.

The hostile mist slowly crept closer as Lady Helen slobbered on his hardening cock. Recognising the urgency, Girn grabbed Maeve by her hair and pulled her also in front of him. He took his cock from between Helen's lips and pushed his tip into the dark elf's mouth. Helen changed to licking the side of his shaft while Maeve lapped her tongue around his tip. The pleasure from both got him to full erection quicker.

"I need you now," Eden snapped. "They're almost here. I need you in my ass!"

With a snarl, Girn left the elves and knelt behind Eden. Baring her butt, he spit between her ass cheeks and massaged the lubricant with the tip of his cock into her asshole. He grabbed the base of his shaft and pushed. Eden fell forward onto her hands and groaned at the penetration from the barbarian's thick cock in her ass.

Instantly, the light around Eden grew, almost blinding now. The swirl filled with ethereal monsters stopped and was even slightly pushed back. Her incantation was a torrent of ancient words and groans. She shaped the raw energy into a weapon that could pierce the necromancer's shield around the phylactery. But it was taking everything she had.

"Girn!" she shouted. "I'm almost ready! The spell has formed, but I need more power behind it!"

Girn didn't respond, but was well aware of what was expected of him. He silently apologised for the rough handling, grabbed Eden's hips, and shoved his cock deep into her ass. A shrill cry escaped Eden's lips as he began pounding her ass. Thrust after thrust he slammed his cock into the goth's backdoor, feeling the energy around him intensify.

"Fuck!" Eden screamed. "Just a little more!" The power surrounding them was whipping her hair around.

Letting go of her hips, Girn reached around Eden's torso, grabbing her tits and pulling her back against his chest. He kissed her neck while tearing the clothes from her body to slap at her tits and pull at her pierced nipples.

"That's it. Fuck yes keep going!" she groaned as Girn's cock kept hammering her ass.

With a show of strength, Girn wrapped his arms around her thighs and suddenly lifted her up. He got to his feet and while carrying her, he let Eden bounce on his cock. Extending one arm to support both legs, he managed to reach the other far enough to play with her folds and finger her soaking wet pussy. Girn felt certain the double penetration would give Eden enough excitement to empower her spell.

Indeed, when Girn felt her ass tighten around his cock and pussy convulse around his fingers, a wave of blinding light exploded in front of them as Eden finished her ritual at the same time as her orgasm washed over her. It crashed outward and reduced the dais with phylactery and circle of candles to a heap of ash.

"Yes!" Eden exclaimed, ecstatic her spell had worked, and breathing heavily from the exertion, both magical and physical. "You deserve a reward for your crucial help, Girn. Where do you want to cum?"

"This is fine," he responded, keeping Eden's body moving on his cock. He took each thigh in one arm again and began pounding her ass harder while carrying her. The tightness of her asshole got him fast to the edge. "Get the elves on their knees," he asked Eden and she commanded them to position themselves close to them, ready to receive the barbarian's load.

Clenching his teeth, Girn came hard, shooting his cum up Eden's ass. He judged he was halfway in depositing his load when he released himself from Eden's tight confines and began stroking his cock, shooting string after string of cum across Helen and Maeve's faces.

When he was finished, the three women made a short show of licking up the cum and extracting some from Eden's ass. Then they made ready to catch up with the undead army.

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West Wall, City of Yeledor

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Voxir Doomweaver's breath was shallow and came in quick bursts. "My phylactery is... destroyed?" He was horrified by the turn of events, going from undefeatable to extremely vulnerable. Someone who thought he had gained immortality was suddenly reduced to being a mere mortal again. "Impossible."

"Not for your general Eden," Girn said, liking the additional pain of betrayal he saw in Voxir's eyes. "You've trained her well, should've treated her better though."

"Fuck you," Voxir responded and spat at him. "Curse you to the deepest hells!"

"Alright," Girn said, "don't be so dramatic." He tore the Greataxe of Magic Protection from Voxir's side and swung it in a wide, horizontal arc.

Voxir tried to scream out a denial, certain that the gods of fate had a more important role planned for him in their scheme of the universe, convinced that they would not allow someone as powerful as him go to waste. Whatever arcane wards protected Voxir's body fizzled and dissipated before the magical weapon's blade. Then the necromancer's head was cleaved off. Like a ball being kicked, it flew and rolled when it landed.

The mass of undead bodies upon the walls and pouring down the streets of Yeledor came to a halt. For as much expression was possible on their rotten faces, they looked confused. For a moment, all was still. Then a harmonious moan and hiss escaped their foul mouths. As one they dropped to the ground. Voxir Doomweaver and his undead army had been defeated. The fires in the city burned low, the battle over.

Girn stood alone, his chest heaving, his body battered but unbroken. He had done it. But not without much appreciated help. He looked down at the dead necromancer, black ichor leaking from the cleaved neck. The city was saved, but at what cost?

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TO BE CONTINUED...