In The Lair Of The Entropy God

Thanks to TerrytheTraveler and StoshB for lending a hand with catching errors. Any gaffs, typos, dropped words, usage errors, omissions, commissions, permissions, WTFs and OMGs are totally my fault. This story was edited for minor corrections 4/07/2021 Enjoy!

Location: Holy city of Lona

Solstice Eve, 2021

Anduvar Elvaraë watched the last of the priest-assassins fall dead at his feet with satisfaction. The tall, lean elvish lord hadn't quite believed her when she had told him that the dark mottling on their dingy grey robes was blood stains from their victims. Dark elves and Unseelie Court fae could be bloodthirsty, but it troubled him sometimes that humans had within them such extremes for beauty and cruelty, even against their own kind. Over and over, he kept telling himself he shouldn't be surprised that her words had proved true once again. In seven short years, Shalia Tavona had only been wrong twice.

Around the body of the priest, ephemeral images of the dead flickered into view before fading out, the spirits of past sacrifices once tied to their slayer in a sort of unholy mana reserve. Now freed of their hideous bondage, they should make their way to whatever afterlife they believed in.

All but two winked out. Puzzled, he muttered the minor spell

detect entity

. They were damaged. Too weak to do more than remain here, he realized, eventually to fade to oblivion, or worse, attract something that fed on soul energy. "Peace. I will help you before I leave," he promised.

The motes trailed after him as if having understood his promise.

For many warriors, these vermin priests may have posed a threat. Silver Knights were the elite of the grey and high elven peoples. Few other knight orders could hope to match them. Anduvar was a Silver Knight Captain, a weapons master, and an archmage.

As he cleaned off his blade, he mused that owning a decent enchanted sword helped as well. Not even six centuries old, many of his elven lord peers thought him a reckless youngster. Anduvar thought he was doing just fine, thank you very much. Besides, he and his small band of knights had just rescued the brilliant and incredibly delectable Shalia Tavona. He intended to enjoy-- no,

savour

every minute of it! Now he just had to find her.

He scanned around the decrepit warehouse. Piles of empty crates and trash littered the floor. Outlawed evil priests laired in an abandoned warehouse? How droll! A good deed done and a cliché expunged at the same time!

Anduvar saw Artellon Far Travellor, Invandis Meadowfield, and Faranthil Rosewood by the south entrance, checking for traps and any remaining enemy guards. The brothers Timion and Lenton Pinetree were close by, keeping watch over their fallen foes. Regeneration was always a possibility as was some invoked spell or monster summoned at the last minute.

Where was his lieutenant, Thorgorond Thelaborn? Ah! There he was, by the knight from Amber Leaf, Aerin Clouddancer. Aerin had been visiting Thorgorond when Anduvar put out the call to arms. Elvish paladins were a rarity, but she had acquitted herself well this night. No fatalities were always good news. Even better was no serious injuries. They had breached the magical defenses and taken the evil priests by complete surprise.

His companions began releasing the naked women from the sacrificial altars.

Oh, yeah, he thought. Coming to Shalia's rescue? And she, likely chained up and very naked? This could turn out to be the best day in two hundred years. Maybe three! He might even make a memory cube when he found her. As long as she wasn't hurt, of course.

Anduvar continued searching. Twenty women by his count. One elf maid and the rest were human. He frowned. No sign of Shalia!

They'd had a fight a month ago, and had hardly spoken since. Shalia had heard rumors about this group, these followers of halgar, god of evil, entropy, and chaos. (Shalia had drilled it into him, only halgar's followers capitalized the god's name. Ba'lorians -- Shalia's faith -- and decent people did not.) Religion made people do strange things. Violating rules of grammar was nothing like... well, like kidnapping and sacrificing women to some crazy deity that wanted the universe to end. To Anduvar's mind, those who worshiped entropy tended to be whacked in the head.

Where was she?

he wondered, moving in a quick search grid. Even though they'd fought, he'd kept a close watch on her nonetheless.

Shalia was often doing things on her own. Art and hobbies and scholarly research? Go for it. Searching alone for a nest of crazed priest-assassins? Arrogance. Pure stupidity. And she should know better!

Just after their fight, she'd caught him following her and given his ears a blistering. He'd let her go on until in exasperation, she'd demanded to know why was he following when she'd made it clear she didn't want him around right now and maybe never again? He'd given her

his look.

"Oooh, I hate it when you do that!" she'd snapped.

Anduvar had simply left, determined not to get caught again. He was very good at finding things and at staying hidden. She was, too, which was both a hindrance and a comfort. Shalia's danger sense was nearly as good as his own. A week later, when she caught him yet again as she came out of Hadrian's Sorcerer Supply Shoppe, she angrily flipped him off and changed directions.

Oh, yes,

he'd thought then.

That's a promise!

And then imagined her legs on his shoulders and him driving his hard cock relentlessly deep into her soft wet pussy over and over, and her lying beneath him, moaning and helpless to the pleasure he gave her.

Anduvar lusted after Shalia. Big time. What irked him the most was he was also completely in love with her. Her pale blonde hair, intense bright cobalt blue eyes, pert nose, and narrow chin. They could talk about all manner of subjects, and she knew a great deal about many topics. An amazing, delightful, irritating, beautiful human woman. A mystery within a conundrum indeed! Anduvar liked how her eyes often softened when she looked at him. It melted him inside.

And as much as he loved her mind and personality, her body inflamed him. Satin smooth skin and responsive breasts. He loved sucking on them, getting her nipples hard, hearing her soft cries as he gave them loving attention. Her tight belly and lean legs and flare of her hips meeting at her wonderful cleft. The hair on her pussy was so pale as to make her appear naturally shaved. Anduvar even loved the large mole high up on her left butt cheek! Shalia's skill as a martial artist had given her another unexpected ability: she had the strongest Kegel muscles he'd ever encountered. When Shalia squeezed her pussy around his cock, it was the tightest grip he'd ever felt. And when she bore down during orgasm, her snug wet sheath wrapped around his length, she was so tight he could barely move let alone withdraw. From the entrance of her womb out to her pussy lips, as pleasure racked her body, the walls of her sex undulated from his crown down his shaft to his balls, urging him to cream her pussy. He never seemed to get enough of Shalia or her talented pussy. And until their recent fight, she had eagerly responded to any of his advances.

The fight itself had been stupid.

Her stupidity,

he thought. All he had wanted was for her not to go out looking for trouble alone. To his mind, even just trying to locate an outlaw group of priests counted as looking for trouble. Anduvar had also sensed her pulling back of late, especially after their visit to Glen Green, the city his father ruled.

At his reasonable request that she not go searching for trouble alone, she'd unexpectedly exploded, telling him she could do what she wanted when she wanted, and that she didn't need a babysitter, thank you, she was a grown woman with a mind of her own and more than capable of taking care of herself. His reply that she certainly wasn't acting like a grown, capable,

intelligent woman

hadn't gone over well.

Later, privately, he admitted he could have done better. She'd told him before that sometimes he could sound patronizing, and he readily admitted that it was likely true. Some of his peers were pretty condescending toward humans and others that were viewed as shorter-lived and

lesser

races. However, the next thing he knew was Shalia loudly kicking him out of her apartment. It was four days before he was over his own mad and tried to patch things up. When he actually did approach, his hands full of flowers, she had rebuffed him. "Not interested in being told what to do! Go away!"

Following her around only angered her. She had even mentioned the phrase "stalker shit."

Earlier attempts to discuss moving their casual love affair to the next step had been sidestepped. "I'm young," she had said to him. "Plenty of time to get serious later."

Trouble was, she was already nearing thirty. As an immortal high elf, he would have agreed. But she was fully human. Time flew fast enough for their kind. Often too fast.

Where

was

she? He stopped moving and took a long breath to calm himself.

Three years earlier, when he first realized he was falling for this confounding and amazing woman, he'd asked for and received a small lock of her hair. He'd spent four months doing errands among the Seelie fae to learn the spell, and another three to imbue the locket with the old faerie magic, turning it into a subtle magical link. Most magical enchantments glowed when detected for, with the intensity of the aura reflecting the item or spell's power. Fay in origin, it was very weak magically and would be missed by all but the most diligent of magical scans. When he showed the locket that housed her snip of hair to her, he'd let her hold it and asked if he could keep it with her blessing.

Amused, Shalia had that permission, then raised inquiring eyebrows when she felt the transient subtle shift in energy. Her words triggered the final transformation. "A keepsake," he had told her-- both a truth and an omission--and put it around his neck. She'd let the matter drop.

For Anduvar, all he had to do was think of her and he'd know the direction she was at and the approximate distance, and the closer he was, the stronger and more accurate the sensation. It could be foiled by many spells and protected areas, but once clear of them, it resumed its connection to the woman he loved. Most importantly, if she knew she was in trouble, Anduvar would know that, too.

Most times he wouldn't even consider using the tracking ability of the locket. After all, he respected her privacy. However, both of the two times Shalia had been wrong were times she ended up in serious trouble against foes a bit more dangerous than she'd planned for. And this recent bull-headedness? Knowing she was poking around looking for this cult? Anduvar felt justified in keeping tabs on her, by any and all means.

An hour earlier, he'd heard a single phrase of despair from Shalia in his mind:

Help me.

Most of his retinue were busy doing other duties, but six had responded to his urgent call to arms. Seven, counting Clouddancer. It had taken all of fifteen minutes to assemble and to travel three thousand kilometers by teleportation magic, and then another twenty minutes to pinpoint Shalia's location before the locket's link was broken. By then, they had narrowed her general location. It took time, too, to bypass magical wards, and then to attack the priest-assassins and their guards.

Anduvar kicked himself mentally. He should have been here, in Lona, following her! Instead, his family had called him temporarily away. His uncle's errand had kept him busy for three days. Long enough for Shalia's father to contact him by spell and politely ask that his daughter please get back to the temple for the class she was scheduled to teach? Anduvar's next question -- how long had she been missing? -- gave Jerynne Tavona pause, but he answered anyway. Shalia had been missing since early the day before. Anduvar promised her father he'd find Shalia and bring her home.

Alive,

he'd said to himself. After the breaking of their magical connection, Anduvar knew his words were less a promise than a vow. He

would

find her. And any who dared hurt her would feel the measure of his wrath.

Pulled from his reverie, Anduvar paused. Noises indicating surprise from the Pinetree brothers on the other side of a huge stack of crates had caught his attention. More intriguing were the throaty female moans. He moved around the obstruction to investigate.

What he discovered astonished him. Lenton and Timion had their arms pinned down -- were those women trying to stuff the hands of those young elf boys up into their pussies? And over their faces were two women busily grinding away -- he hoped his men were getting enough air! -- and two more lustily bounced on their cocks. That accounted for eight of the twenty women they'd rescued. Where were the other twelve?

He glanced around and saw Thorgorond and Aerin nearby, four naked women sprawled unconscious on the ground in front of them.

Thorgorond shrugged at his cousin, his bright green eyes vastly amused. "I opted out, due to a previous commitment," he said, glancing at Aerin. "Aerin knocked them out when they refused to listen."

The paladiness removed her helmet, showing her pale blue eyes and freeing her long white braid. Her narrow, aristocratic face scowled at Anduvar, as if daring him to challenge her actions. Saw her mailed fists clench as she prepared to defy him.

Those women are going to feel it when they wake,

he thought.

I guess she doesn't like to share.

Anduvar cleared his throat. "Good work, Clouddancer."

He glanced at Thorgorond. It was plain he thought this whole situation hilarious. No doubt Thorgorond intended to tease the young knights mercilessly later. When Aerin snapped her head around to look at Thorgorond, his face was stone sober. It was clear the elf warrior woman was laying her claim to him.

He's good,

Anduvar observed. Another time, another lifetime ago, he might have envied Thorgorond his chosen partner. Right now, he had his own blonde beauty to find.

Anduvar spied the rest of the women heading to the three elven knights by the door.

Oh boy!

Not that they would be hurt or anything. But why were women just rescued from imminent death busy trying to hump his men? Their actions were obviously more than gratitude; it had the appearance of urgency bordering on desperation. And where the bloody blazes was Shalia?

Knowing the answer to the first question might be a clue to the second. Anduvar spotted an empty wine container on the ground. He picked it up and sniffed. No need to

detect magic

here. Cheap wine with the tell-tale cinnamon and clove scent.

Aphrodite's Bliss,

an inexpensive aphrodisiac. If you were going to rape and murder women, why would you get them aroused first? The aphrodisiac didn't change the fact it was to be rape; it only took the choice to resist away from the women. Scanning the energetic women, Anduvar expected their auras to reveal charm magic. He did see exactly that but was startled to also find necromantic magic as well.

Necromantic? Wait...

fertility

spells? These women were not only excited by the charm of the potions, but had their own raging hormones adding fuel to the fire. These women were going to want to hump for hours! Why would priest-assassins want to kill women they intended to impregnate? Of course! It was the evening before Summer Solstice, the day the Ba'lorians venerated their earth mother goddess. Killing twenty-one pregnant women would be both their heresy and their supplication to their crazy god of entropy. Not just whacked in the head. These guys had been seriously dangerous and perverted.

He could stop this orgy, but it would take time. One

dispel magic

to end the potion's charm, and a second to end the

fertility

spell. And even that wouldn't end the hormonal change to their bodies; that would take high-level priest magic that he didn't have. All of that would take time Anduvar felt he didn't have. The fact that Shalia wasn't with the others suddenly worried him.

Anduvar tossed the wine bottle aside and started moving away.

Aerin called to him, "What about all this?" She waved her hand at the eight women writhing and bouncing over the two young elven knights, busy trying to get them to fill their bodies.

"Aside from some empty balls, I expect they will survive this encounter without permanent harm. If you feel compelled to do something, it will take two

dispel magic

spells for each woman. Even then, the effects of the

fertility

spell, once started, will take days to end on its own. Or you can knock out the rest of them, at least until the aphrodisiac wears off in six to eight hours. Shalia is here, I'm sure of it. Excuse me while I try to find the woman I love."

Ignoring them, he went back to where the three main priests had been gathered in their own area.

Calming his mind, he re-examined the scene. Slowly he paced the perimeter. On the fourth time circling the boundary of the kill zone, he felt it. An almost imperceptible sensation. He stepped backward even more slowly. There! Again, a whisper of the link to Shalia. Brief, but it was there.

Shutting out all distractions, he ran through several detection spells, probing and examining. Then he found it. A hidden portal, two-dimensional and invisible. Anduvar put his hand through, and the magic of the doorway tugged at him, leading him on.

He stepped through.

And found himself in a small, featureless room filled with drab grey lighting. Within the room was the twenty-first sacrificial altar, a large thin granite slab set at waist height.

Chained on it was Shalia!

Here!

whispered his locket.

At her side, he looked her over, checking for wounds, his eyes and hands moving quickly over her. No injuries that he could see.

A sigh of relief.

The chains were short, keeping her spread-eagled on the altar. Gagged. Chaffing from where the metal bit into her wrists and ankles. But otherwise, she appeared unharmed.

Another sigh of relief.

Next, he looked for the same magical auras on her that were affecting the other women. Surprised and relieved to find none.

She opened her eyes and saw him. Though her voice was muffled by the gag, she rattled and pulled at the chains.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh," he whispered. "I'm here, dear heart." He gently kissed her forehead and removed the gag. A caress to her wan face.

Shalia coughed, gasped, and then spoke, her voice hoarse. "Anduvar! I--"

"Hush. Drink this down." He lifted her head and put a

vial of healing

to her lips. "Drink it down. All of it." Then he replaced the empty vial with his water skin. "Slowly. Slowly."

She drank, then took another deep breath. Color returned to her face as she stared at him. "What took you so long?"

He blinked, setting the water skin down. "What? That's what you have to say to me? Not

how wonderful to see you?

I don't know whether to be annoyed because after running me off you expected me to rescue you or to be pleased with your faith in my devotion to you. And both put to lie your previous insistence that I leave you alone."

"You've been following me for weeks. I actually expected you yesterday morning, right after they grabbed me. When you didn't show, I was worried something had happened to you." Puzzled, she watched as he glanced under the stone slab she laid out on. He went down by her feet, and then actually hopped up onto the slate! She looked up at him, incredulous. "What the blazes are you doing? Get me loose!"

He stood and looked her over, taking in her nakedness, nodding in appreciation of her beauty. "Priceless, Shalia. This is totally priceless."