Casus Belli 1: Prelude to War
The Border
It had been a beautiful spring day, but once the sun had disappeared behind the mountains the cold came rushing down into the Weeping Valley, shrouding everything in warmth-leeching mists. Robar shivered as the padded shirt he was wearing beneath his leather jerkin proved inadequate to keep out the chill. The Nigawan army wasn't well equipped for the climate at the most northern edge of the country. That seemed an oversight, but it was really just a logical consequence of a border that hadn't been threatened in centuries.
He looked up at the forbidding peaks of the Leviathans, the huge mountain range that separated Nigawa from the orcish lands to its north. The endless chain of jagged stone seemed to float in the sea of mist, the western faces glowing a menacing blood red in the last rays of the recently set sun. For over a dozen generations no tangible threat had emerged from them, leading to neglect of the country's northern defenses as Nigawa's other borders had faced the real threat of invasion from its human neighbors to the south on numerous occasions.
Early last summer that false feeling of security had come to a sudden and devastating end as an orcish army had descended from Baelok pass into the Weeping Valley without any warning, and from there swept through Nigawa's northern shires, murdering and plundering, leaving nothing but death and devastation in its wake. It had taken many days for the news to reach the capital, and then it had taken many more days for the Nigawan army to march north to stop the orc rampage, by which time the invaders had already retreated to the north again.
The army had found nothing but dead and devastated people, and burned and looted towns and villages, and had thus set itself onto the orcish army's trail, baying for blood. But the Leviathans had proven difficult and time consuming to cross, and the orcs had proven to be an elusive enemy. They had denied them battle, and just kept retreating north as fast as the Nigawans could advance. After having chased the orcish war-bands for days through the sparsely wooded lands to the north of the Leviathans the army's commander had started to worry about exposed flanks in strange and unknown lands and had halted the pursuit.
With the offending orcs staying out of reach, the army had turned south again, back towards the mountains, and the Nigawan homeland. They hadn't left without extracting revenge though. They had set an example by burning every orc settlement they found on their way, and killing everything that walked or crawled. After the army returned from its punitive expedition it had been hoped that the carnage inflicted on the orcs would prove to be enough payback to keep them from raiding Nigawa ever again. To make sure another surprise attack didn't happen, if the orcs didn't relent after all, they had started to rebuild and man Nigawa's long neglected northern defenses.
The mist started to lift as darkness fell, slowly clearing the air towards the north of the valley and the densely wooded slopes leading up to Baelok pass. The night before yesterday a lone campfire had been lit near its entrance, resulting in excitement among the guards. Last night their number had grown to three, and excitement had been replaced by anxiety. The first thing he noticed were faint flickers of orange and red; Robar tried vainly to focus his eyes on them. A couple of minutes passed, then a soft breeze rushed past him, chilling him to the bone, before the fog cleared entirely for a moment.
Robar swallowed as his eyes registered the multitude of campfires, there were at least a dozen of them now. Then his ears picked up faint whispers that slowly increased in clarity. It took him a couple of seconds to realize what he was hearing; the faraway beat of drums, of orcish war-drums. "Oh fuck," he whispered, then turned towards the soldier on guard next to him, "You better go get the captain Erim; he'll want to see this himself.
Heir to the Throne
Filtered by sheer curtains, the light of a watery afternoon sun cast the interior of the large opulent bedchamber in soft light. Cassandra moaned, the sound muffled with her lips sealed to her lover's as his hands caressed the creamy skin of her breast and the soft inside of her thigh. Her own hands slid down Brando's belly, reached for his cock beneath the covers, and found him hard as steel. She cupped his balls with one hand while stroking him softly with the other. He returned the favor by dragging his fingers up her thigh and placing them on top of her pussy, before spreading her labia with the tips and softly caressing around her clit. She pushed her ample breasts against him, rubbing her pebbled nipples against his chiseled chest, then lifted her upper leg and draped it over his hip.
He accepted her unspoken invitation and his fingers slipped down between her wet folds, opening her before delving carefully inside her dripping pussy. He groaned loudly as she proved to him that she trusted him with her virginity. His fingers caressed her insides, taking care not to deflower her. She mewled as he stroked her hymen, then the fingers moved out, collecting her fluids and spreading them upwards between her labia. He coated her clit, then massaged the little hood out of the way and started to softly rub the hardened little button beneath it.
Cassandra lifted her lips from his and gasped loudly as pleasure surged through her belly, up to her breasts. "Oh Brando," she moaned, "I want you so much."
Her betrothed groaned loudly in response, his other hand sliding behind her back and pulling her close against him, "Less than three months until the festival," he whispered into her ear.
She groaned frustrated, cursing tradition; a Nigawan Pryoness was bound to wed at the summer solstice festival. That on its own wouldn't have been such a pain in the behind if it hadn't been for that other tradition: like all Nigawan girls she was supposed to be a virgin on her wedding night. While the latter tradition wasn't really adhered to anymore by the general population, it was within nobility, especially when the girl in question was a royal Pryoness destined for the throne. "Oh dang," she moaned, "why couldn't I have been born a farmer's daughter, then you could just pluck my flower and fuck me senseless."
Brando softly kissed her cheek while slowly strumming her clit, then his lips nibbled their way to the nape of her neck, then further down along her collarbone, to end up on top of a breast. His lips found a puckered nipple, and his tongue wetly lapped at it, while the fingers working her clit sped up. It sent pleasure up her spine and she felt the climax build rapidly inside her. She rolled onto her back trembling, lifting and spreading her thighs wantonly in the process. He followed her, then softly bit down on the tender nipple while his hand covered her mouth. The fingers of the other kept rubbing, while her fingers clamped down on the sheets. She arched as the wave crested, her screaming muffled as it washed over her, taking her sanity with it.
As she regained her faculties, Brando was leaning over her, his face hovering just inches above hers, and his fingers caressing her long blonde tresses. "I love you," he breathed.
Cassandra groaned loud, reached up and crossed her hands behind his neck, then pulled his lips down on hers. They kissed deeply, their tongues twirling and dancing. She let go with one of her hands, used it to roll them over, ending up on top of him. Once she was straddling him she moved the hand down between them, and resumed stroking his now throbbing cock. He groaned into her mouth; she disengaged, gasping for breath as she slowly slid down his body beneath the covers. She submerged into a heavy smell of sex, moving the hand wrapped around his cock down to pull him taut, then her eager tongue found his bulbous head and she tasted sex too.
She opened wide and her lover trembled and whimpered as she took him inside the warm wet cavity of her mouth. She swirled her tongue around him and started to suck softly, moaning loudly as his pre-cum spread until it covered everything. She slowly took him deeper until her lips met the hand wrapped around him, resting on his base, then she started to slowly bob up and down on him. His hands closed on her head, caressing her softly while she fellated him. Soon his breathing became labored and she could feel his cock starting to swell.
"I'm going to cum," he groaned.
She pulled back, let him slip from between her lips, then started to stroke him, moving her other hand to his balls and cupping them gently. She got up on her knees, shrugging the covers back, welcoming the coolness of the air on her sweaty skin. Her hand sped up, and his groaning became louder as a result. Then his hips bucked and she could feel his balls jolt in her hand as he came. She watched in fascination as his sperm jetted out of the small hole in the head, to splatter all over his flat stomach and chiseled chest. Closing her hand on his jolting balls every time he ejaculated audibly increased his pleasure. He jetted half a dozen times, covering his entire torso in a web of glistening threads.
He sank back on the mattress, small amounts of semen still welling up from the head with the rhythm of her administrations. He relaxed and she could feel him start to soften in her hand. She let go of his cock and slid the tips of her fingers through the mess he made, then she lifted them slowly and studied the resulting stretching strands of semen. Soon he would be pumping his seed inside her fertile belly, and then a child would start to grow inside her womb. One of his hands came up and gently cradled her face. Their eyes locked and she realized he knew what she was thinking about.
His other hand found her waist and he slowly pulled her down towards him, and then their lips met once again. They kissed deeply for what felt like an eternity; when he finally disengaged she snuggled up against him, and moaned softly as he pulled the covers back over them. They lay basking in each other's love for what felt like an eternity, until soft knocking on the bedchamber doors drew her attention. She smiled at Brando and he dropped beneath the covers, once he was out of sight she sat up, careful to cover herself, "Yes?"
The door opened slightly and the head of Denora, one of her maidens, appeared from behind it. "Your father sends word that the council will gather in an emergency meeting just short of an hour from now, milady."