Author's Note:
This is a story inspired by Dungeons and Dragons, World of Warcraft, and Elder Scrolls. I'm not a good writer, so forgive my lack of flow or cohesion. There's probably a few grammatical errors as well. This is story about a Ranger named Kalan who captured and used as breeding material
Also, the sex doesn't start until far down (The scene where Kalan, Ralph, Cleitus and Lain fight in the Arena naked). So, if you're only interested in that, the background really isn't important. Just know that Kalan is a very strong Half-Elf Ranger who was raised by a wizard named Alatar. While on a mission he is captured by a Drow named Jhannel Nimiri to become her slave and breeding stock. Scroll down to where it says chapter 2
Preface:
Syl hastened down the hallways of Skywatch Palace with a pail of steaming water in her right, hot towels under her arm, and a tray of medical tools in her left. Even two floors down Lady Aryenn's cries could be heard as if she were next door.
It had been a year since the Humans had defeated the elven army in a border skirmish which had escalated into a full-blown battle, resulting in the murder of General Eldarin, and the capture of his wife, Lady Aryenn, sister to the King. The news of the defeat alone had been enough to shock the Kingdom, but when an Eldar of such noble birth had returned
pregnant,
by a
human
no less, it was enough to send the Palace into panic. Even as a servant Syl knew that if word of this pregnancy were to spread, the Kingdom would enter a frenzy, rioting would begin the next day, and war with the humans would be inevitable. Most important to the King, Lady Aryenn's life would be forfeit, as the High Priests would demand the immediate enforcement of the Purity Law. For an Elf to share the most sacred blood of Tyr with one of the lesser races? Surely the gods must have been punishing them for their lack of faith to allow such an atrocity to occur. Syl muttered a prayer to Tyr under her breath.
She exited the dungeon wells and scaled the granite steps, entering the main hall. A few rays of dawn poked through the colored glass into her eyes, forcing her to squint. Some servants walked the halls performing their usual duties. It was an eerie silence compared to just a few days before, when these same halls had been bustling with the rabble of sycophantic nobles going here and there. The King had been wise to clear the Palace of anyone unnecessary and limit news of the pregnancy. Only the royal family, a few trusted servants, and the Guardians were left.
She hefted the pail of water with a grunt, careful not to drop any tools. She noted that these were likely the most expensive things she would ever carry and losing or breaking a few would result in her withdrawn pay at best, and her few possessions confiscated to pay for them at worst. It was uncommon for an Elven woman to give birth, and when one did, a Court Mage was usually there to heal the pain away. Archon Alatar, Court Mage to the King, had chosen to make one of his semi-regular disappearances a week ago, so they had been left with fanciful tools and personal knowledge to deliver this child safely. It was fortunate that Queen Elenwen had given birth not a month ago, allowing them to improvise with the tools they still had. What did that fool think he was doing? His skill could mean the difference between life or death for Lady Aryenn. She could never fathom why the King put up with him.
All these fancy tools and seemed unnatural to Syl: Elven women birthed children every day in the country side without a mage or doctor but take them away from a noble and they could risk death. Tyr must have resolved to punish these City-Eldar for their faithless ways after their years of debauchery. She muttered another prayer, asking Tyr to guide the City-Eldar from their faithless ways.
Syl reached the second floor and dashed down the hallway, spilling a sizable amount of water onto the carpet. Two Guardians (the King's Guard, as the humans would call them) in silvery armor, white capes and long flowing hair stood at the sides of a large door as sentries. They threw her a quick glance, and returned to staring straight ahead. She tried to not make eye contact. These were the soldiers that recused Lady Aryenn after negotiations had failed. They were a skilled, yet esoteric group, being masters of both sword and magic. The Guardians, with their immovable, stone faces had always scared Syl. She had only seen them converse with one another and had never seen one even crack a grin. They only seemed to answer to whichever Noble was commanding them, anyone else was only a potential threat to their eyes.
Syl placed her left hand on the door and focused her mana. It recognized her with a soft
click
and opened. She entered, and it snapped shut behind her. She placed the pail of water and a tray of tools on the ground.
It seemed they were no longer needed. Laid on the bed like a bloody angel was Lady Aryenn. Her long auburn hair flowed across the bed like water. Her dull eyes, as blue as the summer clouds, stared at the ceiling. She seemed lifeless, as if her soul yearned for oblivion. In front of her was a maid - Syl had forgotten her name, Nera, perhaps? - holding a crying newborn male. Across the bed in silvery robes stood King Thranduil and Queen Elenwen, solemn. Nera looked around, unsure of what to do the being writhing in her arms. Syl gave her a shrug. The Queen gave lady Aryenn's hand a tight squeeze, concerned.
"Must we do this, Thranduil? This action has no honor," said the Queen.
"The
half-breed
was a product of broken honor, Elenwen." Said the King. "You know as well as I that it must be done. If this thing is discovered, the Eld-sum will use it to gain power - possibly revolt. The Great Houses and Priory would join them, and perhaps they would be justified in that. Aryenn will live out the rest of her life in our protection, and any memory of a human having the Blood of Tyr will be destroyed." The Queen's grimaced deepened. Syl understood the Queen's the compassion, but this child was a product of sin. Its destruction was a tragedy, but the only way forward.
"I don't wish to witness such an act, Thranduil." The King nodded in understanding. He looked to Syl and Nera, and they snapped to attention.
"You two, deliver it to the barracks and return here immediately." They strode out of the room, eager exit that somber scene. The child continued crying, eager for a mother's touch it would never know. When they were out of earshot, Nera spoke in hushed tones:
"Did you see lady Aryenn?"
"The worst birthing I've seen," Syl replied with a nod.
"She looked like Balthazar himself was ready to snatch her."
"She must have been under stress. It's amazing she still lives at all, the poor thing." Syl shivered in disgust. "Can you imagine what the humans did to her? Any unprepared Eldar would die from the shame alone. I know I would. I'm surprised it isn't dead already." An Elven birth was different from a human's in that the mother's state of mind could impact the health of the child. Despite his Aryenn's depression, the child still seemed as active as ever. She spared the newborn a glance. It had the eyes and hair of it's mother, but it's face and ears were human. She knew what they were about to do was for the best. The life that awaited this child was hard one. It was best to end it now while they could.
A young Elf in blue robes strode toward them. He was tall, with high cheekbones, long blonde hair, and a handsome face. Syl recognized him immediately as Archon Alatar, court mage to the King and head mage of the entire Kingdom. He held a humanoid figure in his arms. Wasn't he supposed to be helping with the birthing? His healing would be invaluable. "Hey," Syl began, "Where have you been for the past hours? The King has..." A flash of light emanated from his staff. Syl halted. A fierce white light surrounded her. It went as quick as it came, and she found herself staring at a pillar.
"Syl? Syl? Are you okay?" Nera gave her a concerned look.
"Did you see that?"
"See what exactly?"
"The Archon, he was just here!" Nera frowned, concerned.
"Syl, he's been gone for days now."
"Yes of course. It was nothing. Just the stress getting to me." She resolved that the stress day and the night before must have been getting to her. "Let's be on our way." They continued to the barracks. Syl found herself uncomfortable in the eerie dawn silence. Wasn't the child crying before?
"Say, Nera, how'd you manage to calm it down?"
"Oh yes. I suppose it just needed the magic touch I gave it," She rubbed it's back and the child only responded with a slight murmur.
They reached the Barracks, and found a lone Guardian waiting for them on a stool. A scar was strewn across his left cheek from his temple to chin. His blonde hair reached to his midsection. His silvery plate seemed to glimmer in the dim light. This was the one they called Ancano, Commander of the Guardians. Ancano stood. Nera placed the child on the ground near him and turned to exit.
The Guardian stuck his sword in Nera's neck. Syl screamed. A flash of steel reached her chin and she was flying. She landed on the ground with a
thud.
She saw Nera, very much dead, strewn across the floor.
Was that her body across from her?
The Guardian brought its sword against the child. She could only think of the King's words in the bedchamber:
any memory of a human with the blood of Tyr must be destroyed.
Her vision went black, and her thoughts drifted into nothingness.
Episode 1:
Chapter 1:
Kalan donned his padded leather and chainmail and exited his tent. He carried a spear and shield on his back, and a bastard sword at his side. The reach of the spear would come in handy should they come into traditional battle, which, while unusual for the Syndicate, was still a possibility; the sword would be useful in the tight mountain passes and caves of Dragon's Nest, where a quick foot or maneuver could mean the difference between life and death.
His breath became mist as he walked toward the General's tent. The weather this high up seemed to alternate between snowing one day, and clear another with no in-between. It was cold and bitter, with not one day of march being above freezing. Despite that, the fools
