Chapter Fifty-Two
ADRIANNA
Riding a warg wasn't anything like riding a horse. With a horse, I felt the power of the beast as it beat its hooves against the ground, springing me forward with each stride. With a warg, I didn't even notice the ground it ran upon, for the warg didn't beat the ground, but ripped through it, its massive paws tearing into the earth to create footholds for it to launch forward with each ferocious drive. The muscles on Sasha's back rippled along me as I clung to her mane, and peered through my wind-swept tears toward the western horizon.
It was the dead of night when I found the orc camp. The wargs that were there sounded their howls upon my approach, and raced toward me, Sasha and Jala. I sat upright and high on Sasha's back, projecting strength and fearlessness when the pack came sniffing me. One hint of unsureness would've turned them on me in a frenzy, and so I showed only my hard gaze when they stared at me with their red eyes. After each had tested me, they meandered about, accepting the newcomer. They communicated with Sasha and Jala through snorts, growls and sniffs, and some whined and whimpered upon the realization that three of their brethren would not return.
I was led by the pack into the encampment. There was no guard to stop me, which made sense considering the guard dogs, and so I made quite the entrance when Sasha strolled into the center of the fire circle, and plopped contentedly upon her haunches with a hybrid elf on her back.
For a moment, the circle of orcs just gawked at me. I took the opportunity to dismount from Sasha, and tidy my cloak before stepping before them all.
"Gentlemen," I said, "you are supposed to bow when nobility addresses you."
Many of them did, dropping to their knees with awe on their faces. The rest were unsure, and might've followed their comrades' veneration had a low voice not stopped them.
"We don't bow to you." Gorlok Hertaki said. I barely recognized him. It had only been three years since we'd last crossed paths (and swords), but now he was so scarred that his face was nothing but knotted tissue and gouges. He struck an impressive figure, massive and muscular, but the most impressive thing about him was the wolf that relaxed behind him. The famed 'Ginger' was nearly the size of an elephant, and looked fit to tear a hole through God herself if she was so inclined to. She lounged around her rider, conveying the respect and love that bespoke the true bond of their relationship. She kept one red eye fixed on me, suspicious and uncaring of my race.
"Ah, you know these beasts well." Gorlok mused, examining me, "Most people just pretend Ginger isn't there, but you address her before you even look at me. Most people don't know that I'm not the master of this duo, but then again, most people aren't you, Thomas Adarian."
I looked at him then. "I'm surprised you recognized me after all this time."
He sneered, and the scars on his cheeks twisted horrifically. "You might be a hot little piece, but your face didn't change much."
"I wish I could say the same for you."
He snorted. "I think I'm prettier this way, actually." He looked down at the woman in his lapβthe woman I'd been trying to ignore. "What do you think, Dog Meat?"
Dog Meat was a high-elf woman, perhaps in her late teens. She was beautiful, blonde, pale and slender, and she had no arms or legs. Her arms had been severed just below the shoulder, and her legs had been taken off at mid-thigh. Little pink stockings were placed over the stumps, a mockery of cuteness. They were the only clothes she wore. She was spread out and naked in Gorlok's lap, her pink pussy stretched wide by his thick, green cock, her clit and nipples all crudely pierced with gauges in the Hektini tribal fashion. Her face had been tattooed with obscene works of art, her crotched had 'Highland whore' etched with ink, and her inner thighs all had arrows that led to their apex. Her expression was vacant, a broken smile plastered to her lips, her eyes bulging manically. She moaned as she was slowly spitted by her master, his cock forming a bulge in her pelvis that traveled slowly up and down as he hoisted her gradually by the hips.
"Yes, Master," she giggled, every word drenched in terrible pleasure, "I think you're very pretty."
"Of course you do," He growled into her pointed ear. She craned her neck receptively, her stumpy arms and legs wiggling in delight when his lips found her throat, and his molesting hand found her clit. He pinched the pierced node, and stretched it, and Dog Meat squealed in pain and ecstasy, shimmying on his lap as her eyes rolled back. He collected her nipples in one hand, and pulled them too, stretching her small breasts into conical points until I could see the grotesque void-space where her piercings opened. She squealed and sputtered, her pussy mouthing in salivating clenches around his reaming shaft, her distended abdomen flexing and twitching with orgasmic spasms. She wiggled her little stumps, and sparkling dust sprinkled from them. She was a mage, an untrained and unskilled one, and with no fingers to cast her spells, the magic exited her sporadically and wildly, forced out by her orgasmic ascension. She threw back her head, and choked out a sob, then squirted all over the ground before her. Gorlok grunted, then pulled her off of him, and tossed her in her own puddle. He snatched her by the head, and forced his meat all the way down her throat. She gagged and heaved, but she took him nonetheless, and when he came down her gullet, I could tell by the arch of her back, that she enjoyed it immensely. He pulled her away by the hair when he was done, and hoisted her back onto his lap. She dutifully nestled her crotch onto his cock, and eagerly awaited the moment it would become hard for her again.
"I always leave one survivor." Gorlok muttered, running his hand through her hair, "An untouched girl to tell everyone of my deeds. This time, that untouched girl had a twin sister. They were scouts in that rebel group. Bunch of fucking dykes playing at war; we showed them what war really is." He grinned up at me, and framed Dog Meat's face in his massive hand. "Go on, girl. Tell the nice lady what I did to you."
Dog Meat beamed manically at me. "He made Juliet do it!" She wiggled her limbs, threw some sparkling dust, and giggled, "Every day, he made her choose which limb I would lose. Then he'd make her cut it off me with a blunt saw!" She laughed again, but it sounded like a scream, "Then she would feed it to Ginger in front of me, so that I would know my place!" Her smile was like a death-grimace, "I'm Dog Meat! That's my name! Woof, woof, woof!"
"Woof, woof, woof." Gorlok echoed with a chuckle, watching me carefully. "It's the rightful place of all Highlanders. What do you think, Ranger?"
I tilted my head nonchalantly. "I don't really give a shit about what you do with your toys, Gorlok. I'm not here to take them from you."
His brow elevated a fraction. "So, it's true then. The ranger really is dead." He ran his eyes up my body, "I heard it was so, but I couldn't believe it. People don't just change like that, but I guess..." His gaze lingered on my midsection. "Is it true that Trenok's bastard festers in your belly?"
"Yes."
His gaze finally rested on mine. "Then I suppose there's nothing left of Thomas Adarian after all."
"It's only 'Adrianna' now."
He nodded, then spat onto the ground before him. "I don't give a fuck. I know why you're here, Governess. The war's over, and now my use has run out. Woof, woof, woof; time to put the mad dog down."
"The Dark Queen didn't send me."
"Bullshit."