Of ruins and ruin
It was all much too weird. Edward was certain that normally excavating some ruins should not really involve this many difficulties. He and his comrades had been warned, admittedly. But he had been more than willing to follow Farcia’s recommendation and take the job. Some superstitious bogus was all it was, she’d assured him. Routinely he let his fingers run over the rough wall. He’d already checked for hidden mechanisms. But all he was able to discern without hands-on searching was the general direction as well the degree of danger according to his own knowledge of traps. Farcia and Gerwin were the experts for magic in their group. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Harald, the nervous swordsman and newest addition to their team, look at him with at least as much respect as fear. The boy was decidedly too young and inexperienced for Edward’s taste, but this world was not kind enough to let kids grow up in peace. And the young man had gone through all the years of proper training in the mercenary school affiliated with the Guild Hall. His successful completion of their training was equal to a coming-of-age-ceremony, smaller admittedly, but much more tasteful in the eyes of the thief who never had much of a liking for loud, flashy get-togethers. Still, something about this place was just strange and made in Edward’s eyes made this a mission for veterans, not half-baked beginners like him. “Careful!” He was just in time to save the boy’s hand before Harald could have put it right inside of one of the more obvious traps in the room. This was why he was against people like him joining. They might have gotten all the proper skills, but lacked the ever so crucial experience. “Yeah, um, … Sorry. And thanks.” Edward withheld any answers as his fingers found the hidden switch and pressed it. Without any sound an impossibly well-camouflaged door swung open. To reveal nothing but a painting.
A portrait of sorts, though time had not been gentle on the canvas. Whoever was displayed here, his identity was lost to the ages. “Are you sure the others will be alright?” Oh, for the love of… If the kid didn’t learn to shut up Edward was convinced he’d personally teach him some manners before they returned to the guild. If they returned. His eyes narrowed as he spotted something on the painted canvas that seemed much better preserved than the rest. Some piece of jewelry. Was that…? Yes, it was a quite detailed depiction of a ring. With careful engravings, perhaps even an identifiable symbol. It was all too common for the wealthy and powerful to let themselves be depicted with symbols of their status and fame. Even if the face and most else was lost, this might just be a clue, after all. “Sure they’re fine. They’re the brains of this team, remember?” In fact, Edward really would have separated with his share of the rewards if that brought Farcia here to them right now. The southern Sorceress would have been able to identify the ring, no doubt. Besides her studies in the arts of magic she loved any gossip about the nobility in the kingdom, be they of the present or the past. “Let me just get that.” He tried removing the piece from the wall. Even if it was this withered, it was still the most promising lead to the former inhabitants of the place. Behind him the boy was apparently checking the interior of the room once more. “Ouch!” The blasted thing was stuck to the wall as if merged with the stone. A permanent adhesion spell, no doubt. Really, why had he been struck with the stumbling newbie as a companion instead of Farcia? Or at least Gerwin? The philandering spellsword might be an annoyance to deal with, but at least he’d been a lot better at removing lingering magic than Edward. No chance, the canvas wouldn’t budge. “Hand me that knife from the table, would you?” The boy hurried to deliver the blade to him. It had been a lucky find, since Edward wouldn’t have to use his own now. It wouldn’t be the first time that in trying to cut something affixed to a stonewall with magic it was the blade that gave out first. This time it would at least not cost him anything. After a few probing cuts he found the chance of success good enough, and within minutes he had the piece of the canvas that depicted the jewelry almost detached from the frame. “What in—?” The canvas suddenly sprung into flames, blazing on the wall and ruining the only hint they had managed to find in the past five hours. “Are you alright, Edward?” “Couldn’t be better, I’d say”, growled the thief, patiently rubbing the spot where the fire had scorched his glove. The smell of seared leather stung in his nose. “This is a lost case”, he determined as the magically created flames already died down, having reduced the painting to nothing but grey ashes, smoke rising from them less and less with each passing moment, “Let’s find the others.” The boy hurried on ahead, leading the way down.
The two magic casters of the group had decided to tour the lower rooms. Gerwin had insisted if any monsters had managed to breach the wide-spread defensive magic circle around the once large estate, it would be the type to seek the darkness of the cellar or at least lower floors. Edward had not much to complain about it, as normally the assessment of their situation the man made was sufficiently reliable. It was just a pity that because of Gerwin’s no doubt rigged lottery he’d been stuck with the swordsman instead at least one of their two magicians. Oh, well, no use crying over spilled milk. His hand rubbed over the seared glove again, suddenly stopping at the resistance of an unfamiliar object underneath the leather. He was about to check when he heard an excited call from downstairs. The boy had found something urgent. He ran down the last steps to find the boy pointing towards a small door, leading to what the group had in the beginning dismissed as a simple storage for perhaps cleaning utensils. The door was left ajar, already a cause for concern. There should have been no need to look inside, and someone like Gerwin, who’d only be motivated to do just about anything if it was sure to involve either money or women, would not even have considered to look past it. With a silent gesture he made clear they should prepare for enemies. The boy had already drawn his sword, ready to fight. And rightfully so. The small gap between the door and the wall was not at all big enough to glance beyond. But the smell wafting their way from inside was alarming enough, the sweet smell of pungent flowers and heavy, exotic perfume. So completely out of place that anything causing it in such a spot could only be a threat. Suspicious of every shadow the two of them further opened the door and slipped inside. The narrow entrance belied the wide room behind, but the most striking element their eyes fell upon was a steep, wet staircase leading down. The pungent smell was even stronger over there, whatever produced it lurking in the underground of the ruins. “This doesn’t look too good. We really shouldn’t be here,” whispered Harald, stating the obvious and straining Edward’s nerves once again. The thief let his eyes wander over the floor. “No dust,” he mused, “That’s a bad sign.” Something caught his eyes. He squinted, trying to make out the shape. “Gerwin’s brooch!” Harald had better eyes and recognized the object much sooner. The elder man grimaced, not at all pleased by the fact the youngster had managed to steal a move on him. “They came past here then. That guy would never leave something even just slightly valuable lying around by his own free will.” The boy wanted to pick it up, but he managed to stop him. “There’s a trick to it if you wanna put your hands on something that guy owns,” he explained to the boy as he performed the quick gestures the spellsword had taught him in case he needed to bypass his security magic. “Who in their right mind enchants something as plain as a brooch?” Edward shrugged. “Don’t try and ask me what goes on in that head of his. I don’t even want to understand.” They proceeded down the first steps of the staircase. “Shouldn’t I—” Edward pressed his hand over Harald’s mouth, cutting him off mid-sentence. The boy had likely wanted to suggest lighting a torch, but the thief much preferred the darkness. His sensitive ears told him all he needed to know. And most likely, it was the same for whatever lived down here. And in case that the creature needed light, they would produce it themselves, which meant a double-advantage if the two men could advance within the shadows, not giving their presence away. Slowly they went deeper and deeper down the steps, each one holding them for minutes. Edward might prefer the darkness. But his old legs preferred safety over a careless fall any day of the week. It took a while before Harald stopped struggling against his hand, most likely overcome in wonder at the sight Edward had noticed ages ago. What appeared as total black void was actually filled with a subtle, green glimmer, the faintest hint of light that grew stronger and stronger the further down they went. It didn’t appear to have a specific source. Magical light.
Edward shivered. Even if he didn’t know much about magic, he still had picked up enough over the years to know any spell that produced light on this scale was sign of a powerful caster. And powerful casters were bad news. Regardless whether they were allies or foes. But especially when they were foes and still unknown. Like now. Every fiber in his body screamed he should run. But unfortunately he was too indebted to Farcia. The sorceress had saved him on more occasions than one and it would haunt him for the rest of his live if he did not confirm what had happened down here. He forcefully pulled the ear of the young swordsman closer to his mouth, breathing rather than speaking: “Danger. Be ready.” He could not risk looking at the boys face to confirm if his words had been understood. If they were, the boy might make himself useful. If they weren’t, he’d still be useful as a distraction for whatever lurked down there. Either way, Edward could not be bothered to think for the guy. If his teachers had found Harald capable enough to be send on jobs, he would be able to either fend for himself or at least not blame others for his failure.
They reached the end of the narrow staircase. Edward was a bit surprised to find an opening looking more like a coincidental break in the wall rather than a planned passage way being the only thing down here, but he was not going to question it. At this point in time, there was no way to learn why things had been built like this. Still, it was unsettling in a way, and he felt cold shivers run down his body. It was just too weird. Pressed against the wall he tried listening for clues without revealing the fact he was there to whatever might be lurking on the other side of these bricks. He saw the boy nervously fiddling with his belt, gripping his dagger as if ready to pounce someone one moment, checking for the pouch containing his share of ointments the next. Again the thought crossed Edward’s mind that the swordsman was simply too green for this sort of request. But a job was a job. And retreat was no longer a feasible option. Not empty-handed, anyways. They had to at least confirm the fate of their party members, or they would likely be kicked out of the guild on top of being the lowest scum. And not stooping that low at this point had become pretty much the last thing in his life the elder thief could still be proud of. Another, somehow fresher wave of that inexplicable pungent, flowery smell wafted into the narrow corridor the two men waited in and Edward fought back the impulse to throw up. Something about that odor made his head spin and caused his body to revolt, all the same leaving him wanting more. His eyes darted to the young man next to him, who apparently had been hit even worse. Even as he was looking pale, which coupled with the eerie greenish glow gave him a rather unhealthy hue, he seemed to sniff to get even more of the scent into his lungs, the corners of his mouth twitching into an almost-smile every now and then whenever he seemed to lose track of it. That reaction, more than anything else, tipped Edward off. He tried warning the guy, hold him back, but too late. As if having forgotten all about their anxiety and the more than suspicious situation their party was in, Harald took a few staggering steps past the thief, past the breach in the wall and into the adjacent room. As if through a starchy syrup his body pushed through the entrance to the room leaving ripples in the air. Edward realized that was crucial. Something altered the very space in this place. That explained the eerie lack of sounds from inside and hinted at a much more powerful spell weaver than he had originally assumed.
At this point it was not even a question of possibilities or risks anymore. If he valued his live, this right here was where he should turn tail and run. And yet, he stayed, almost staggered right after the swordsman. With more will power than he ever thought to have he remembered a trick his mentor had once taught him. He held his breath, at the same time frantically fumbling with the contents of his secret pouch. Holding a withered, almost gross-looking wormlike root in his fingers he kneaded it, breaking the surface, before gobbling it up. The herb was pure poison, but in sufficiently low dosage it would not kill him, instead it would block his sense of smell and taste, forcibly raising his metabolism and thus hopefully flushing at least a part of the substances he might already have inhaled out of his body again. He grinned a toothy grin as he thought that none of his team mates would have thought to leave the pouch in his possession had they known of it. Farcia, stemming from the southern tribes and being all too often amazed at the scientific knowledge of the Kingdom would ironically have been the first to condemn his readiness to rely on shady, dangerous drugs. And Gerwin… The spellsword would most likely have had a laugh at his expense, mocking him as a filthy, degenerated hoodlum too old to keep his wits about him without the support of such substances. But as he felt his head clear and the floral scent seemed to fade away, Edward knew that at the very least part of his conjuncture had been correct. The smell apparently was as much a part of the magic swirling about the underground dungeon as the light or the warped space inside the next room. He inched towards the edge of the opening, trying to glance inside.
His breath caught in his throat at the sight. A wide, conic room that, unless Edward’s senses had been corrupted much more than he’d considered, extended higher up than the staircase had led the two of them down. The entire room was lit by the same magically created green light, only by far brighter than in the corridor. Stone sleets used as tables lined the walls, mostly filled with flasks and bowls, a few of them growing plants, others mushrooms, whilst in some weirdly pulsing and flickering liquids could be spotted. On one table Edward noticed a goblin, the greenskinned creature appearing strangly well fitting in this place with its unusual illumination. But Edward realized that the creature seemed to be in chains, it’s almost humanlike body tightly secured in place by rusty shackles. Whether it was even still alive seemed questionable, if it weren’t for faint shudders that ran through its hard muscles every now and then. But even that fell short of the shock he felt upon a different, unsettling sight. Harald had fallen down to his knees only a few steps into the room, apathetically sitting there with his head lolling around as if hit with drugs much worse than what Edward had taken. The swordsman had let his weapon slip right out of his fingers as if completely having forgotten about it, just occasionally twitching. “Curses!” At this point, if Edward stepped inside, there was no telling if the herbs he had on him could still offer at least some protection against whatever evil forces were active here. But if he walked away, leaving his comrades to their fate despite no enemy being anywhere in sight and after already having taken whatever he could to ward off the spell, he’d really be as low as everyone already claimed, anyhow. He hated himself for it, but there was no question anymore. He pushed another root past his teeth, this time thankfully not noticing any of the upsettingly horrid taste with his already numbed tongue. Bracing himself for the worst he stepped forth. He’d expected some kind of resistance, but the barrier he’d observed when Harald had entered was, at the very least, not the type to be felt when being passed. From his point of view, he simply entered a new room. Even with the poison running through his veins, blocking his senses, he noticed the scent was a lot more dense in here, almost to be felt on his skin. Scanning for hidden assailants he approached the boy. Now that he was closer, he could hear the boy groaning and as soon as Edward could get a better look at his front he realized the boy seemed lost in a feeling of irresistible ecstasy, an obvious bulge throbbing in his groin. Edward weighed his options. But he didn’t know what condition the other two were in and how much more of his herbs he would need for himself and them, if he could even manage to join up with them. Even if he brought Harald outside the barrier, the boy would just be lured right back in by the smell. On the other hand, right now he would most likely not go anywhere any time soon and the stair was the only way up to the surface. With an empathetic pat on the shoulder that caused the body of the boy to jerk in a wave of what his expression revealed to be pleasure Edward turned his back on him and proceeded towards the far end of the room, where a small opening led further inside the dungeon. He heard noises from in there, which meant that most likely the two missing magicians could be somewhere close by. Plus, unless Edward would be lucky for the first time this month, also the unknown inhabitant of this place. He was pretty sure he did not need to make closer acquaintance with them, but he needed to make sure he rescued who could be rescued.
His boots made a terrifying amount of noise in his own ears, but he knew himself well enough to not let his nervousness get the better of him. In reality, the soft leather was hardly that loud on the glistening flooring. But he stayed on edge even as the short corridor ended in another room, much lower, but wider than the first. The light here was so unnaturally green it almost hurt his eyes. He felt the headache that always came with the consumption of the poisonous roots grew nearly unbearable in connection with the magical glow. But the sight in the room made him forget all that. Cages lined the walls, as it seemed most of them were occupied. And in between them, a throne of sorts encircled by chandeliers that if his rudimentary knowledge of these things did not fail him most likely formed some kind of arcane barrier. That throne however was empty right now, because the one who probably sat there normally was currently busy doing something between two cages to the side, holding up a wand Edward recognized immediately. Farcia’s wand. The person twirled it in her fingers as if unable to decide whether it was below her standards or not, occasionally mumbling snide remarks at someone inside one of the cages that Edward could not quite make out from all the way here. But given he knew the owner of the wand and that they had to be somewhere around here, he had a pretty good idea about the captive.
Something drew his eyes towards the side. A pair of gnomes inside one of the smaller cages stirred, apparently waking from a pretty light slumber, locking their gaze onto him nearly that same instant. The small, humanoid creatures were obviously not really awake yet, dazed, drugged. Their expressions were the same as Harald’s, if perhaps even more deeply in the grasp of the afflictions. Completely in the grasp of the magic filling these halls. With a fright he noticed they were panting as if in heat, the weird sedation induced by the spell probably the only thing keeping them from humping the bars of their cage with abandon. He tore his gaze away from them to find he was just in time for seeing the stranger sashay towards the throne. Now that they stepped away from the overlapping iron bars he got a better look of them. Their silhouette left a female impression on him, long, flowing hair with a silky gloss, a long, slender back supported by even longer legs and frail, but decidedly skillful arms that kept whirling the southern sorceress’ wand around like a worthless toy. Edward had to consider it might have been reduced to just that by now, in fact. Farcia had been very careful to protect her most important, most powerful possession against theft. For the unknown woman to handle it with such ease was a clear sign of trouble brewing. But not for Edward. If the sorceress was not holding the wand and it was now in hands of the enemy, that was enough information for him. The thief was not in any position to start a fight against a witch powerful enough for maintaining this dungeon, and most certainly even less so if he had to assume his comrades were already disposed of. The young swordsman wasn’t and if he returned now both he and Harald would at least be able to make it back to the city. Edward was about to leave when a faint moan reached his ears, a moan that did not sound like a gnome by any stretch.
He froze mid-motion, watching terrified as another person appeared from between the rows of cages. Crawling on all fours, a lithe, dark-skinned woman sought her place beneath the feet of the witch who had seated herself on the throne, laughing menacingly as she observed the movements of the humiliated woman once known as the most capable sorceress around this half of the province. Farcia moaned and panted like an animal, completely abandoning any shred of her usual dignity and pride as she begged the witch for attention. Her full breasts pressed flat against the greenish shimmering stone she lowered herself to the floor at the slightest hint of a gesture from her tormentor. The witch broke into a sadistic snarl that made Edward’s blood boil with contempt and spread her legs, whispering a command that despite the almost inaudible tone had reached Farcia’s ears all the same. The southern sorceress followed the invitation and as if needing to quench unbearable thirst began to lap away at the witch’s glistening cunt. As if not even thinking about it, Farcia’s legs slid apart and her fingers darted towards her own sex, getting to work without missing a beat. It was certainly not what the thief had ever thought he’d get to see, the alluring exotic magician reduced to a submissive sexy plaything for another—and another woman at that!
The dark-haired witch cackled in reverie over her triumph, and most likely also simply joy over the sensations Farcia was eliciting within her nether half. The southern woman was by all accounts extremely skilled at giving pleasure. Edward could not help feel his own groins stir at the sight, fighting against the restraint of his pants. The drugs must be wearing off, allowing the weird lust-inducing spell to seep through! The evil sorceress beckoned another shadow waiting between the cages. It did not take a genius to figure out who would follow the call and as expected the form of the normally arrogant spellsword Gerwin showed up, inching closer and closer at mortifying low speed on his knees. Edward had loved to preserve the image, but on the other hand, he felt this scene would remain burned into his memory either way. Gerwin’s eyes were clouded with arousal and need, his cock stiff and all too impatiently wobbling up and down as his unnatural way of walking caused him to involuntarily push out his hips with every step forward. His blond hair, normally carefully kept at bay with all sorts of tinctures and even little enchantments now fell in dirty, sweaty beads around his face. Unlike with the sorceress, Edward spotted bruises and welts all over his upper body, traces that he had put up heavy resistance against whatever may have transpired down here. Or perhaps up in the ruins, perhaps when something forcefully made them walk past the door? The spellsword was admittedly much more adept at fighting than Farcia, the sorceress’ field of expertise mostly limited to healing and protecting. It would make sense for him to be the one having suffered the most. For better or worse, the witch had spend far too much effort on intricate lures and mind numbing enchantments. At the very least, she was not a combatant. Whether that was truly a reason to feel as relieved as Edward did was something he chose not to ponder too deeply right now. Gerwin moved exactly as far as the witch allowed him to, whimpering in frustration as she heeded him to stop, but obeying nonetheless. “Such a good boy, aren’t you?” The voice was hard like ice, and just as cold, resounding like the cracking surface of the lake near the small inn Edward lived in for a few years. Like the frozen waters, whenever another careless deer had broken through. “So little left of that spunk you had earlier, isn’t that right?” “Yes, mistress!” More than any of the things he had seen so far the broken, eager devotion in Gerwin’s voice instilled fear in his heart. Gerwin was arrogance incarnate. Never bowing to anyone, even if they were royalty. That same man displaying such levels of humiliated submission towards someone was so deeply unsettling that Edward felt close to panicking. The witch’s lips curled maybe a little more than before. “Such a proud little warrior before you met me. Such a useless slave now!” “Yes, mistress!” Gerwin huskily replied, devoid of any of that overly haughty attitude Edward hated him for. “Now, then, I wonder, after you managed to resist the effects of my magic so much longer than most, are you finally willing to breed your former friend here?” “Yes, mistress!” “Oh? Even though you know that will reduce both of you to mindless cattle for me to use as I see fit? Even though you claimed you’d rather die than live as my completely enthralled pet?” “Yes, mistress!”
The witch threw her head back in laughter. Edward used that interruption to go over the things he’d learned. Technically, whatever the witch had done to his friends was not yet permanent. But she was working towards making it so and had finally reached the point where that was only a matter of minutes, it seemed. If he could grab them and make a run for it, they might eventually return to their senses. But then again, even if the witch was not excelling in combat, her magical abilities made her an opponent beyond his strength. Should she notice him, they were all done for. Already he noticed the faintest hint of that pungent scent from earlier creeping into his nose. This close to the source of it all the magic got closer and closer to overpower the effects of his herbs. He had to up the dosage, even if it brought him that much closer to passing the critical dose of poison. Without taking his eyes off the scene before him his fingers slipped into his coat, lounging for the pouch and brushing over the brooch in the process. The same one he’d picked up before climbing down the stairs. He felt the jewelry hum and grow warmer inside his pocket, and as if on cue the weird smell and the intoxicating feelings it brought receded. Gerwin, that bastard, had enchanted it with some sort of protective spell that cleansed Edward as the current possessor of the artifact from the foreign influence. That brooch most likely had been the reason Gerwin showed clear signs of injury. It had fended off the witch’s influence and allowed the spellsword to fight back! Edward was mainly grateful he did not have to swallow even more poison. But he realized it had been a mistake when the witch snapped around, looking straight his way squinting. “An intruder! Now if that isn’t something unusual? Stay right. Where. You. Are!” She straightened up and in her guarded alertness reminded Edward of a wild beast. Her movements had a grace belying the limits of the human anatomy, resembling much more those of an agile spider, carefully reeling in its hopelessly entangled prey. Too late for escape. This right here was the center of her net, her home ground. Edward did not buy into the illusion he could outrun a user of evil sorcery, adept and honed in the art of capture and assassination. However, the brooch had allowed Gerwin to resist. The witch was an expert in mental manipulation. And that the jewelry allowed him to resist. With a blade he had the advantage. Edward gathered all that fake bravado he had trained to show in his younger years and instead of running slowly entered the room, subconsciously matching the pace of Farcia’s stimulations. “Good day to you, ma’am. How intriguing to run into you down here. May I kindly ask you distance yourself from my companions a little? I’d like to take them home soon.” “How courteous! Let me respond in kind. You may certainly ask such of me. However, I deplorably have to reject your proposal.” Why did that not surprise him? He tightened his grip around the handle of his knife, the tip drawing tiny circles in the air as his wrist trembled under his anxiety. Something that of course did not escape the witch. Her expression melted into the open, innocent smile of a maiden. “Why don’t you put that boorish thing away? As you can see, I am unarmed and, dear me, even naked! Should I take you for the kind of brute that will point a weapon at a helpless lady?” He snorted. “Should I take you for the kind of devious trickster to point a wand at a helpless non-magician?” That drew honest surprise to her face. He figured as much. Here he was, claiming not to be well-versed in magic, resisting a spell two proven magicians had failed to escape from. If their roles were reversed, he would not believe it. Then again… Edward knew he definitely did not look like a magic caster. The witch seemed to come to similar conclusions. She spread her arms, though Edward did not fail to note her hand never let go of the stolen wand. He knew the few battle spells Farcia had mastered mostly relied on the tool. There was a chance some of them were actually carved into the ancient wood rather than just channeled through it. Which meant she was maybe even more dangerous than he had anticipated. “Human, if nothing else, I commend your daring nature. You waltz right into my home, point a weapon at me and even insensitively command I hand my cattle over to you. You need a lesson in modesty.” Her eyes locked onto his, beginning to glow in a rhythmic, mesmerizing pulse. “I never pointed a weapon at anyone since coming here,” he tried to buy time, “I merely feel calmer holding it, if you will. After all, holding it in my hands like this makes it all the more easy to discard it.” With a flick of his wrist he send the knife tumbling away into the dark. Only after the sound of steel hitting the ground reached his ears, breaking the tension with its vibrating noise it dawned upon him how unnatural an action this had been. Of course he still carried spares, but to reach them without the witch noticing was utterly impossible. Not to forget no matter how fast he’d reach for them, she had all the time in the world to ensnare him with further curses. He looked away from her face, fixing his eyes on Farcia’s form instead as she was lapping away at the witch’s pussy still, completely immersed in her task as if he’d never shown up behind her, teasing her own genitals without ever allowing her fingers to provide the extend of stimulation her flesh most likely sought. “Oh, how very chivalrous of you!” The sweet innocence in the woman’s voice was but mockery in light of the underlying obvious triumph. Eduard had been taught by Farcia that magic either needed to have been prepared in advance or had to be invoked using some sort of verse as key. But the change to the woman’s eyes had happened spontaneously, without any hints. Obviously the two magicians had made fun of him, not finding his intellect above their criteria for actual comprehension. He made a mental note to never bother explaining the finer workings of the traps he so often spared them from to them after this. As long as their haughty negligence did not trip him up in rescuing them, that was. Farcia backed away from the other woman as if having burned her tongue, whimpering in loss even as her face displayed nothing but blissful reverence towards the witch. The woman got up, taking her time gracefully stepping near. Edward was fighting back the first tendrils of panic trying to drill into his resolve. Should he remain where he was? Retreat? Advance and strike before she could cast another spell?
“I want to reward your bravery,” interrupted the witch his frantic efforts. “Oh?” It was either his only chance to bail them out or confirmation of his long since sealed fate. “Well, I’m honored, truly. However, I’m afraid that the only reward for me in this situation would be in form of me and my friends going home safe and sound. I don’t suppose that was what you offered?” He felt mortified, the tension threatening to be too much for his old body. The last time he had been under such stress the group had send him in to undo a trap designed with mastery of the craft much beyond him, and the only way to complete the task was by almost dying. He realized ages ago that this situation was just as perilous, only this time he was dealing with dangers far outside his field of expertise, with close to no knowledge about even the most basic rules. And unfortunately, his luck was not quite up to the challenge of filling in the gaps. When going by experience, anyways. The witch chuckled. “Why, no, it would ruin everything if I just gave them up like that. Wouldn’t you agree? As a master thief, someone who excels in stealth, theft and attaining what he wants through careful planning. We actually have a great bit of things in common, I’d wager.” “If so, that would imply a greater purpose behind this? Though I admit, I’m stumped about that part.” Besides the obvious, of course. She had clearly enjoyed the attention Farcia and Gerwin gave her. It would be nonsense not to think it a part of the whole thing. “Oh, don’t you give me that!” She began to move to the side, slowly, probing his reaction as she walked a few paces one way, turning the other whenever she saw fit. To her this was a game, he had to acknowledge as much. Grinding his teeth he observed her feet, not courageous enough to meet her eyes and be compelled by her spell once more. “I am simply living here. It is not at all my fault that people keep coming. Honestly!” The last word dripping with falsehood. As if that had not been sufficiently clear already. He noticed she began to circle around his right flank and instinctively shuffled his feet, trying to drag her noticing the escape out as much as possible, if only by a single second. He was of course no longer betting on truly escaping this way. But maybe… “I admit I do feel offended that you keep looking the other way, dear sir. I have confidence in my looks, if nothing else.” And every damn reason to! Eduard felt his manhood impatiently throbbing in his pants. Perhaps she was using magic to seduce her victims, but it was not like she had to with a figure like that. Tall, slender, yet visibly healthy and overflowing with pride unique to people with power, her black hair adding an air of foreboding, of ominous danger to her appearance that he knew all too well men (and plenty women) could not hope to resist. But there was no way he could risk getting affected by her eyes again! A faint tickling sensation, as if from electricity running through the air warned him just in time for him to dodge with a jump to the side as she let loose some sort of incantation. He fell down hard, trying to roll over and somehow get back on his feet only to suddenly press up against something soft and warm. Something living! His head flew around in reflex, expecting a monster or worse—and found himself eye to eye with Farcia! The nubile sorceress was meeting his eyes, but her gaze was clouded with lust, blankly staring right through him into nowhere. Her full lips were lightly parted, sure to not spout any of her usual sharp comments any time soon. Drawn by instinct his gaze darted down to her breasts, so invitingly dangling in front of him, and her hand, still lightly playing with her lower lips as naturally as breathing.
Before he could process this development the witch gave off something between a hiss and a laugh and Farcia’s body spun into motion, the woman slinging her arms around him and pressing him right back down on the cold ground. “What are you doing? Farcia!” He already knew, somewhere, that it wouldn’t break the control the witch held over the sorceress, but he was so perplex that the very person he’d come to save was suddenly intercepting him like this, that he could not help but be surprised. “Isn’t it touching how happy your friends are to have you here with them?” Edward wasn’t sure exactly what she meant. Until another pair of large hands abruptly grabbed his forearms, pinning them down on the cold stone. Gerwin towered over him, holding him securely in place as Farcia slid down his body, all the while making sure to press up against him. The witch was gleefully watching his plight. “You see, I never really have to dirty my own hands in the end. It’s either that all those rude little intruders can’t stand the perfume I scattered around the house and go blank and horny just from smelling it, or I can just ask one of my readily available helpers to assist me. Now,” her next words were addressed to Gerwin, “I believe he’s got something on his person that doesn’t belong there. Take it off, will you?” Gerwin moved to comply, but Edward was no bloody beginner. The brooch was hidden inside his pocket, sewn on the inside of his clothes. There would be just one way to get it. Gerwin would have to let his arms go and use his hands. And in that moment he could—A sudden gust of cool air around his cock made him look up in panic. Farcia had yanked down his pants, freeing his bulging erection from its constraints. Even Edward couldn’t help but be amazed at the way his shaft sprang free, almost hitting the enchanted woman’s face on its rise. He even thought to spot a flicker of genuine surprise in Farcia’s expression, but if so, it vanished faster than it had appeared to give way to the same thoughtless devotion once again. Again the witch directed her words at him: “Don’t even think about resisting, thief. The brooch you have there is a nasty little piece of arcane arts, I admit. Its creator knew what he was doing. But even so, it can only guard you from foreign influence. It is useless, in other words, against your own worldly desires.” He could hear her contentment. She thought to have won. And to be honest, he had no way to refute her. It was hopeless. Gerwin was pinning him down, Farcia had begun to grip his shaft, running her tongue up and down its length, and even if he could have used his hands, Edward was already questioning if instead of fighting for his freedom he might not simply hold Farcia’s head in place to fuck her mouth. Since that was what every fiber of his being told him to do, danger or not. The nubile sorceress gave his head a little kiss and he arched his back, leaning into her caresses. “Thanks for the help,” the words of the witch found their way through the haze in his mind. Gerwin had let go of his arms, unreservedly reaching into his pocket and taking away the brooch—and he hadn’t even noticed, distracted by Farcia’s ministrations. Edward felt like someone dumped him into a hot, steamy jungle, saturated with the overly sweet smell of rotting fruits. With the brooch no longer on him the protection was gone as well, leaving him exposed to the same mind-altering magic that held the other two in its thrall. He felt his entire awareness shrink down to only the area around his cock, where Farcia was still sending fireworks of raw pleasure through his nerves, causing him to whimper in need, regardless of how pathetic it made him look. He heard the witch burst into laughter behind him, echoing from the walls and bouncing through his rapidly emptying mind. “It’s over! Too bad for you, thief. And for me, to be honest. I did enjoy the challenge. It happens so very rarely, after all. But now, you yourself will help me forever enslave that beautiful friend of yours. Or as long as I can be bothered to keep her, anyways. I’ll let you in on a secret. The smell —I’m sure you noticed by now—draws them in and makes them, let’s call it, slightly more agreeable. But if it were ever to vanish or weaken, which happens every couple of decades or so, in the few days it would take me to set it up anew, my slaves could—could—regain their bearings and rebel. To prevent that, to truly cement their new role as my cattle into their brainless little heads, they need to be fucked to true satisfaction in their current state. Now, unfortunately, it takes a few more ingredients to really make that permanent. You have not yet been given those. But before we proceed with that and while you still have one last shred of self-awareness left, I will have you become the tool to forever break that naughty little lady who thought she could best me in the arts! And you know what? You get the best part of it all. Just do with her body any which way you please. Really fuck and break her for me, ravish her however you like. Truly enjoy being but my accomplice in reducing your entire team to worthless animals in heat!”
Edward couldn’t help himself. The moment he heard her words, his body was already swiftly spinning into action. His hands grabbed the back of Farcia’s head, and as he had envisioned so very often before he pushed her closer to his crotch. The sorceress herself did not even think of resisting, all too eagerly opening her mouth to let his shaft slide past her plump lips, shuddering as his meat stick suppressed a deep, heartfelt moan from her. He saw her eyes roll back in her head as the mere reality of him using her like this was sending her into new heights of bliss. But not yet. He felt she was not yet anywhere near as close as she should have been. With primal joy he began to use his hands in guiding her motions, pumping her entire head up and down his cock rather than moving, effectively viewing the sorceress as nothing but a masturbatory aid. He felt his own arousal build further and further, but at the same time something blocked him from losing himself entirely, as if purposely holding him back, restricting him. In frustration he pulled her off his dick, instead of her mouth now aiming for her squishy tits. Edward yanked Farcia’s hands to her chest, positioning them so the woman pushed her own tits around his cock before starting to rock his hips back and forth, fucking her tits that she had been flaunting before him all those past years. It felt so incredibly satisfying to finally be treating her like this, after she had looked down on him as someone beneath her for so long. He wanted to tell her, openly throw all the things he’d thought of saying to her in dark, private moments before at her, but all that left his throat was a low, guttural growl that only grew in volume as he felt his dick burn with the need to—He let go, shooting ropes of thick, hot semen all over the dazed sorceress’ face and tits. For a split-second he just stood there, the mind-numbing effects of the spell receding ever so slightly, as he marveled at the sight of the woman drenched in his own cum kneeling before him. But as fast as that moment of clarity had come it ebbed away again and he only felt his refueled lust take over. Without much concern he bend Farcia’s willing body in position, now lining up to take her dripping pussy. Once, twice he tried, but each time he was thrown off by his pants scrunching up around his knees and yanking him back whenever he forgot. He grunted and instead of his cock slipped one of Farcia’s own fingers into her slit. More prompting wasn’t needed, the sorceress was more than happy to play with herself. Edward stumbled to his feet, making haste to slip out of his clothes. Suddenly he held a small pouch between his fingers. Without much thinking he slipped his fingers in and produced a wild assortment of various herbs and roots, shoving them in his mouth before tossing the leathery bag aside. He didn’t even know why, or what he had swallowed, but something told him there were herbs among them that could enhance one’s virility. Exactly what he wanted right now! With the next breath a sharp, sudden pain brought his attention to his dick. His shaft was, if at all possible, swelling even more, growing painfully stiff and almost turning purple with pent-up energy. Edward felt his lips spread into an ear-splitting grin before aiming for Farcia’s pussy once again, pulling her fingers away from her snatch just in time to make room for his extra sensitive member. He pushed in, being welcomed by her hot, wet folds and felt the last remnants of his mind sink into white, omnipresent bliss. A faint, silent humming noise in his ears began to distract him, blocking out every sound but his own pulse as he sped up, fucking the woman before him rougher and rougher with every passing minute. He lost track of how long it lasted, aware only of the ever rising sensitivity of his skin that turned even the faintest ripples in the air into searing whiplashes of pleasure, smoldering in his flesh and driving him nuts even as he plowed in and out of Farcia. The sorceress at some point could no longer hold back either, yelping in as much pain as ecstasy from his treatment. Finally, after what felt like ages he noticed the familiar fluttering feeling in his guts, followed by what had to be the most intense orgasm he had ever had, sending spurt after spurt of cum into Farcia’s body. He only realized that all strength seemed to be leaving him when he sank to the floor, too exhausted to even move. Farcia before him had collapsed as well.
It took him minutes before he realized that the intensity of the strange greenish light had dulled somewhat. With a start he understood that for whatever reason, he was returning to his senses. Edward took a look around, noticing a small chamber that was hidden behind the throne and encompassing cages. He fought his way over there, hearing quite familiar noises through the door. The witch was apparently currently preoccupied. His clothes still laid where he had dropped them, so he could just grab whatever he urgently needed and hightail his way out of here. His eyes darted across the room, looking for Gerwin. He hated the spellsword, certainly, but his brooch had served him well until it was stolen. A magician of that caliber should be brought back to the guild, if nothing else. Though any doubt about that disappeared the moment he actually spotted him. Gerwin had sunk down, limply cowering. A faint trickle of drool ran down his chin and pretty much the only sign he was still alive somewhere in there was the occasional droplet of cum dripping from his erect dick. “Sweet dreams,” the thief whispered, as he spotted the likely cause. The brooch, still in Gerwin’s fingers, sending weak pulses of magical energy into the man. His very own security spell to prevent theft. It would seem that under someone else’s control Gerwin had not thought of disabling the safety mechanisms he himself had devised first. Edward had thought he’d at least feel pity, but all he actually thought upon seeing this was resignation at the spellsword’s fate. Farcia next to him stirred lightly, but other than that was still down for the count. He couldn’t be sure, but it appeared the witch had retreated into her chambers for some reason without ensuring at least one of her thralls was nearby to keep watch. He walked over, pondering for a moment whether to try and snap Gerwin out of it. If luck was on his side, which miraculously he could not deny was the case at the moment, the witch had not yet put Gerwin through whatever her control required to become a permanent change. But just as Gerwin himself, Edward was likely to suffer from the tranquilizing effects of the brooch. And if he simply tried to disable it as it was… Risky, but worth a shot. He was about to perform the necessary gestures when a flash of light around his finger caught his eyes. It was a ring. In fact, it happened to be a ring Edward had seen only once before. On the canvas upstairs. The painting that due to some hidden magic had incinerated itself as he tried removing it. It was rather unimpressive at first glance, obviously the painter had made it look bigger and more meaningful than it really was. A narrow band of brass, rather than the depicted gold, however the etched symbols were all in place, as far as he could tell. With a fright he realized some of these began to sparkle, flickering on and off in silvery, cold light. Even more magic. He tried slipping it off his finger. As long as he did not know what power it held, he didn’t want it anywhere near him. But to his shock he realized it was stuck to his hand just as unrelentingly as the canvas before had been to the wall. “So be it, then!” He was too strongly pressed for time. From the sound of it, the witch had found Harald. Edward had listened in through closed doors, but he was still fairly certain to have heard the swordsman’s voice at least once or twice. It kind of made sense, Farcia and Harald respectively were the youngest members of their group. With the most stamina. And with him having fallen there had been nothing to prevent the witch from checking if even more hidden intruders like himself had set out to disturb her. Most likely even if he ran, she’d sealed off the exit for some time. But just maybe… “Gerwin!” The magically gifted, yet so very weak looking spellsword brought his neck to follow the call, his head wobbly seeking Edward in response. “Go to sleep!” Edward had not expected it to work, but upon hearing the command the man sighed and flopped into a limp mess on the floor, the brooch tumbling away from his hands during the collapse. Edward allowed himself a little smirk. “This has to be the first time ever that you’ve listened to my advice. I’m starting to think I want to keep you this way.”
He looked over his stuff, noticing that his discarded belongings were nowhere to be found. Then he shook his head, angry at himself. Conventional means had already proven useless. This had to be solved differently. He had to beat the witch at her own game. If only in revenge for Farcia. If he had understood this correctly, it had been his own body that had pushed the woman into everlasting submission towards her captor. If he would by some unlikely coincidence harm the witch, that may amount to erasing the only chance of turning the southern sorceress back to normal. He had to somehow make her yield, defeat her with her own weapons. With magic. He conveniently chose to ignore he did not know anywhere near enough about it and instead kissed the ring. “You’ve latched on to me. The least I could expect in return would be you saving my day, you hear me?” Edward took one last breath to steel his resolve before barging into the chamber. His surprise to the scene was limited, at most. Harald was helplessly twitching under the witch’s lithe body, the nefarious woman having used her assortment of spells to bend him into an unnatural posture, below her on his knees, his arms secured behind his back, leaning so far back that normally gravity should have toppled him, however something like an ethereal, semi-transparent cushion floated behind him, most likely doubling to restrain his arms as well as support his weight. What did surprise him was how completely off-guard the witch looked, nothing but the purest elation on her face as she was just about to insert Harald’s begging stiff rod into herself, most likely not for the first time. Immersed into her self-satisfaction it took her a few seconds to even realize the door had been opened, and that was all he needed. With two big strides he was right behind her, grabbing her and pressing his hand against her throat. Not actually choking her, but making clear he would if she made it unavoidable. “You vile! Unhand me at once! Or I can assure you and your friends will never return to the surface.” As if she’d had any plans on letting them go before! “How the tables have turned.” He lowered his lips to her ear: “Tell me which of my friends is not yet permanently enslaved. And how can your control be broken?” She struggled against his hold, but Edward had confidence in his strength if nothing else in this clash. “Never! You are all already lost cases, either way!” “That is regrettable.” As if having felt that his wearer needed assistance, suddenly the ring sprung into action, that sporadically flickering silvery glow he’d observed before quickly turning into a bright, humming light. He and the witch were at least equally surprised at the unfolding event, as the light slid off the ring onto her throat, running up to the woman’s head and from the looks of it sinking into her! Edward was too startled to make sense of what he saw, his only prevailing thought that he could not risk letting go of her in case she’d throw spells around the second her freedom returned. In wonder he observed from up close how her face first contorted as if in pain, before more and more melting into a dopey, vacant smile. Feeling increasingly insecure by the minute he probingly eased his hold of her, only realizing now that whilst not dangerously so his grip around her neck had tightened considerably in the process. She swayed a little, suddenly having lost his support, before straightening out her posture, that brainless smile never leaving her face. It had something surreal, not knowing what he should make of this display. “Can you hear me?” “Yes.” “So then, tell me which of my friends I can still release from your control and how.” “None. They are all permanently enslaved.” He wasn’t sure she was not just playing with him here, but still, her words were probably true. He pondered his options. “And you?” She kept on smiling, not showing through anything if she heard him. “Are you enslaved? You are, aren’t you?” “Yes.” He had the impression that for a split-second her smile grew wider, even more content. But that might as well have been a trick his eyes played on him. He made up his mind. “Then you won’t mind if I take over as the master of this place, will you? In fact, get down and follow me. Oh, and release the boy and make him come along, too.” He walked back to Gerwin and Farcia, hearing two pairs of feet tap over the stone tiles right behind him. “Now, tell the two of them to wake up, at least enough to hear what is spoken here.” The witch complied, her never-waning smile turning the command into a cheerful sing-song. Edward rubbed his hands, a rarely known gleeful mood coming over him. A mood he normally only found himself in whenever he was about to get his hands on treasure, and he had to admit, a bigger treasure he could hardly have found. As Gerwin and Farcia rose into what could pass as a sitting position, he could see they both had not regained their senses in the least. Still dazed and compliant they looked up at their mistress, not even considering the powers in these halls may have shifted. That, he would change. “Great. And now, I believe I have not heard your name yet. But thankfully, you’re happy to just respond to ‘slave’ from now on, right, slave?” The witch nodded, looking as happy as if he’d done her a huge favor. “Very well, then I shall indulge you. Now, slave, beg me to take full control of you and all you have enslaved before I came.” The former witch, reduced now to nothing but his mindless thrall herself, kneeled before Edward, looking up at him with eyes filled with drugged adoration. “Please, master, this worthless slave asks of you to control her and all she captured for you to this day!” And as he saw Farcia, Gerwin and Harald adopt the same look of utter, unthinking devotion towards him, he waved the two women to him, placing their hands on his already happily bouncing dick. “I will, slave. I will!”
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