Worlds Combine #4-

Arwyn

By karaokecowboy76

I am Uatu, a member of a cosmically powered group known as the Watchers. There are few in the many and varied universes that can match my power. But though I can intercede in the events you are about to hear of, such is not my place. Mine is but to watch and record, but never to interfere…I am the Watcher

            Note from the Author: Some of you out there may not be familiar with the character of Arwyn.  She was from the title Sojourn, by the now defunct Crossgen Comics.  She has always been and will always be the favorite heroine of this particular writer, so expect to see more of her in future chapters of Worlds Collide.

The Planet Quinn, the city of Gerrindor:

            A breeze from the north caught her golden hair, lifting it off her shoulders and sending it flapping behind her, carrying with it the stench of burnt timbers and death.  She hadn’t been back here in… well, she couldn’t remember exactly how long it had been.  How long it had been since the trolls, the forces of the evil being known as Mordath had swept through this city that had been her home and taken from her the two people that had meant everything to her in her life.  Darian and her beloved Neera.  She had survived the day, she and few others.  But Arwyn had vowed vengeance upon Mordath, not just for what he had done to her, but also for what he was doing to the rest of Quinn.  An undead despot, determined to grind the whole of the planet’s society under his heel, to rule them all no matter the cost.

            Arwyn, formerly an archer with the city guard of Gerrindor had set out on a quest to destroy him.  At first it had been ill advised and she had been ill prepared.  She made her way to his castle and tried to assassinate him, only to find that the undead creature was more powerful than anything she could have expected.  She was captured and held in his dungeon, likely to become “entertainment” for the trolls under his command.  It was there she met Gareth the archer, a rather famous adventurer who was well-known all-over Quinn for his exploits.  He too had been captured and put in the dungeon, though she had never really known why he was there, she hadn’t ever really thought to ask him.  Fate had thrust them together, the beautiful blonde and the one eyed archer and she hadn’t really questioned it.

            He had helped her to escape or tried to anyway.  They had been chased by Mordath’s trolls from the dungeons of his vast castle to the ramparts, where they had thought they would die in a last standoff against them.  They had been rescued from that fate by the mysterious Neven who had gifted Arwyn with Ayden’s bow, the weapon of the legendary warrior who had first defeated Mordath more than a century earlier.  They had set out upon another quest then, to find the pieces of the arrow that had slain Mordath, broken into four pieces by Ayden himself.  He had vowed that if he was needed, he would return, but only if the pieces of the arrow were reunited.

            Arwyn finally had all four pieces and now she and Gareth, and the thief called Cassidy were on their way to Mordath’s castle where she would put the pieces together and summon Ayden for the final battle against Mordath and his trolls.  The ruins of Gerrindor were on the way to the castle and Arwyn, against her own better judgement, had thought to stop and pay her respects to her late husband and daughter, whose remains she hadn’t even had time to bury.  Now she stood on the threshold of the house they had all shared, staring at the wreckage and knowing that somewhere in there lay the charred bones of her family.

            “Arwyn,” said Gareth quietly, moving up to stand next to her, “we should go.”

            She turned to regard him; tears evident in her sapphire blue eyes.  He was not a tall man, about her height though she was tall for a woman.  He had fair skin and shoulder length brown hair, a patch over his right eye.  He wore a loose-fitting white shirt with a folded collar and black leather pants.  On his hip rode a quiver of arrows and opposite it a long sword.  He carried a high-quality bow.  “Of course, you’re right.”  Arwyn nodded, glancing back one last time at the remains of her former home, then she fell into step beside Gareth as he led her away from the bad memories.  As they walked toward Cassidy, keeping watch in the distance, she regarded the man next to her.  Gareth had stayed by her side through quite a lot in the last… had it been two years?  Perhaps longer, she honestly couldn’t recall how much time had passed.  He claimed it was so he could see the fate of Mordath decided for himself, but she knew the real reasons.  He was in love with her, she figured he probably had been from almost the moment they had met in Mordath’s dungeon.  At the time, recently widowed and having lost her young daughter, she couldn’t even have hoped to return those feelings.  But since then, with the passage of time, her sense of loss had ebbed and she had come to realize she did have feelings for Gareth, though she was still at odds as to what those feelings were.

            He was a rogue in his own right, having shared the bed of countless women over the years, not least of which was Cassidy, the very thief that rode with them now.  But she knew he had led a very different life from hers, traveling at great lengths and enjoying what that life brought him.  At one point during their travels together she had thought him dead, and when he was returned to her, they had kissed and though she had punched him immediately afterwards, she couldn’t deny the enjoyment she had felt with his lips pressed against hers, her body against his….

            “Gareth,” she began quietly, not looking at him, “we should talk you and I.  There are… things… that need to be said.  Before we reach Mordath’s castle.”

            He would have liked to glance at her from the corner of his eye, to gauge her expression, but she walked on his right side so he would have had to turn his head all the way to the right to see her with his left eye.  Instead, he tried to gauge the tone of her voice, which sounded… hopeful?  “We should do it now then.  Mordath’s castle is not so very far off.”

            She stopped in the street, her blue eyes rising to where Cassidy stood with her back to a wall down the street.  She had her arms crossed beneath her bosom and was gazing off in the opposite direction from them, seeming disinterested in what they were doing.  Arwyn didn’t think the pretty young thief had noticed them yet.  Taking Gareth by the hand she turned and led him into a tavern nearby, oddly enough one of the few buildings still standing after the trolls swept through Gerrindor. Probably because they had made use of it after razing the city. They moved into the building, signs of the destruction that had met the rest of the city all but invisible here, though many of the tables and chairs were overturned, glasses shattered around the long oak bar.  By now, everything here was coated in a layer of dust.

            Placing Ayden’s bow against a wall within easy reach Arwyn turned and faced the man, crossing her arms beneath the firm, high swell of her breasts. He leaned against the wall, feigning nonchalance.  She knew he was nervous, wondering what she had wanted to talk to him about so seriously.  “Gareth…” she started and stopped, discussing her feelings had never come easily to her, so she decided to start with his, “...you love me, don’t you?”

            She looked him squarely in the eye when she spoke, her liquid blue orbs meeting his one eye levelly.  He swallowed, the nervousness he felt suddenly settling into the pit of his stomach.  He nodded, “Yes… I do.”

            She nodded, took a moment to collect her thoughts.  “I want you to understand me now Gareth.”  He nodded, his full and undivided attention upon her, “I care about you a great deal.  Is it love?  I honestly don’t know.  After all I’ve been through, I’m not even sure I would recognize that emotion anymore.  But I care… deeply.”  Now it was her turn to swallow nervously, unable to believe she was about to broach the subject.  “It is very possible we may die in the coming battle… we both know how powerful Mordath and his forces are, we’ve been fighting them for months now.  Years even. I…” she paused here, obviously struggling with the words, “...I don’t want to die without having explored this... thing between us, whatever it is.”

            Gareth pushed off the wall, the look on his face turning suddenly serious, not a common look on him.  Arwyn merely stood there and stared at him, her gaze leaving no doubt what she wanted.  He stepped forward, extended a hand and caressed her cheek, sliding his fingers back to the base of her neck and then pulling her

forward into his embrace.  She melted into him, her soft pink lips finding his, her hands sliding up Gareth’s broad chest to encircle his neck.  His free hand found her waist, then slid around it, tightening possessively, pulling Arwyn tighter against him.  A faint whimper escaped the blonde archer and Gareth responded, his tongue slithering between her lips while his hand moved down from the small of her back to her firmly rounded buttocks, squeezing one through the snug brown leather that covered them.  They lingered that way for a long while, her tongue sparring with his own, first in her mouth, then in his then back to hers.  Gareth, his fingers eager, explored her lush body, wanting to memorize her every supple curve, something he had wanted from the moment he first set eyes on her in Mordath’s dungeon those months...years?... ago.

            Breathlessly she broke the kiss, gasping out, “Gareth… I remember this tavern… when I was a member of the city guard the tavern keeper used to rent out rooms upstairs to the single soldiers… there are beds up there.”  Gareth needed no further urging, adjusting his free arm he slipped it behind her knees and hoisted her effortlessly, their lips fusing once more as he carried the shapely archer toward the stairs visible in one corner of the room.  He climbed them quickly, having to skirt one area where they had broken and then moved down the short hallway on the second floor.  He kicked open the first door he found but the room beyond was thrashed, the furniture, most importantly the bed, a shamble.  Growling in frustration, Arwyn’s lips now working down the side of his throat driving him wild, he moved to the next door.  Kicking that one open they found the inside to be relatively intact, but a stench of decay wafted out, making them both gag.  Gasping in revulsion Arwyn turned to gaze into the room and saw the desiccated body of a woman lying on the bed.  Judging by the torn state of the clothing and the pose in which she had died, she had not ended well… likely with one of Mordath’s trolls rutting between her thighs.  Wrinkling her nose in distaste Arwyn met Gareth’s gaze and they both shook their heads. He moved on to the next door.

            Though dusty, this room was fully intact and they had both been on the road so long a little dust would not stop them.  With a relieved sigh Gareth carried Arwyn across the threshold, the irony of that not lost on either of them, and quickly laid her on the bed.  Eagerly he started to undress her, his fingers pulling at the leather ties cinching the low cut bustier together in front.  She reached forward and closed her hands around his and when he looked up into her face she smiled at him.  “Let me, it’ll be quicker.”  He nodded and stepped back, watching as Arwyn stripped for him.  It was mesmerizing… he had dreamed many times of seeing this woman, uncommonly beautiful by any standards in such a way.  One particularly vivid dream had involved Arwyn and a shiny bikini of purest silver… that one he had had a few times.  But it couldn’t compare to the reality of her nude body as,  after several long, tantalizingly agonizing moments, she lay nude before him.  She was lean and firm from head to toe but not muscular, her breasts were round and impossibly firm for being so incredibly large.  He had expected her nipples, quite large and standing firmly erect under his gaze, to be light pink but they were a shade of red he had never seen before.  His one eye traveled languidly down her flat, toned stomach and took in the sensuous flare of her hips, aware that this amazing woman had had a child but seeing no sign of it.  Her legs were long and incredibly shapely, the soft patch of hair between her sleek thighs the same golden blonde that adorned her head.  “Gareth,” she whispered, drawing his eye back to her smiling face, “why are you still dressed?”

            Grinning like a dumb schoolboy he quickly stripped from his clothing, which didn’t take near as long as hers for where she wore leathers, he was simply wearing a shirt and pants along with his boots and belt.  Those things quickly hit the floor and it was Arwyn’s turn for her gaze to travel hungrily over his hard, well-muscled body.  He was not a large man, but he was solid and athletically built and, she noticed with widening eyes, he was rather well endowed for his size!  Her gaze lingered on his manhood, long and throbbing, bobbing slightly up and down as it pointed unerringly at her, at the thing it wanted most in all the world at that moment.  Breathless, she sat up and swung her long legs over the edge of the bed, reaching out for him she gently encircled his shaft with her fingers.  Gareth inhaled sharply at her touch and her sapphire eyes glanced up into his face, set in a rictus of pleasure.  She smiled as she started to stroke him, her fingers strong but also gentle, the fingers of a highly skilled archer.

            Gareth had always known Arwyn to be a woman who kept herself tightly in control of her emotions, strictly on course with her vengeance against Mordath.  Never had he imagined she might be so wanton a lover, but when she leaned forward and took him in her mouth, he knew that while focused on the job she had set for herself she was deliberately one way, here in the privacy of the bedchamber she was a completely different woman! He groaned as her lips and tongue worked on him expertly, her head bobbing back and forth as she fellated him, blowing him like a practiced flutist.  His hand came to rest on the top of her head, then slid to the back and he gathered her lustrous blond hair in his grip.  She moaned, excited by his pulling of her hair, something else he would not have imagined from her.  Spurred on by her promiscuous behavior, Gareth started to cut loose a bit himself, his hips starting to move, slurping noises coming from Arwyn’s mouth as he shoved himself deeper into it.  She didn’t complain, didn’t back away, fully capable of accepting the entirety of his length, some of which was sliding down her throat at this point.  Her hands caressed his thighs, moved around to his ass and squeezed it.

            “By the Gods… I’m going to cum!” he cried exultantly, the only warning he was able to issue her should she want to pull away.  Instead, she tightened her fingers on his taut buttocks and pulled him closer, burying her pert nose in his genital hair and when he threw his head back and roared at the ceiling she eagerly drank his hot seed as it pulsed forth, erupting like a volcano, flooding her mouth.  Arwyn took it all, her skilled lips and tongue even milking him for more till he was spent and ready to collapse.  He released her hair and she pulled back, smiling up at him, fully aware that he hadn’t expected her to be so… sexually free.  “Arwyn… that was….”

            She frowned in mock disappointment at him, “Are you saying it’s done then?”

            He motioned at his manhood, growing quickly flaccid in front of her face.  “I’m afraid I’ve nothing left to give for a while, you’re… quite good at that!”

            She laughed in a lighthearted manner he had never heard from her before.  “It may surprise you to know this Gareth, but you are not my first lover!  Even Darian, my late husband was not my first, though I’ll grant you I’m not so experienced as you are!”  He colored slightly in embarrassment at that.  “Still, if you think us finished for the time being, perhaps there is something to be said for the quality of a lover over the quantity.  I assure you my handsome archer, we are far from finished!”  She took his hands in hers and lay back slowly, sprawling across the mattress while she pulled him forward.  Gareth was mesmerized by her movements, allowing her to pull him forward wordlessly, moving up onto the bed and straddling her waist, his now mostly flaccid member coming to rest between the firm swell of her breasts, which he noted sagged only slightly to the sides as she lay on her back beneath him.

            Arwyn reached up and pushed her breasts together around him, cushioning him in her soft yet surprisingly firm warmth.  She smiled as he extended his hands forward and filled them with her breasts, which were too large to be completely engulfed in his hands. Their fingers met on the sides of her breasts and she twined hers with his, then guided him in the movement of her bosom, up and down gently, creating delicious friction along the length of his penis.  Gareth’s eye widened in surprise as he felt himself responding to this, a slow smile spreading across his face.  Eagerly, almost hungrily he leaned forward and took one of her large nipples in his mouth and Arwyn smiled, then he nipped it playfully with his teeth and she gasped in surprise.  In mere moments he was fully hard and throbbing once more and he shifted his position, stretching out atop her.  Arwyn spread her thighs, opening herself to him eagerly and Gareth, his fingers still entwined with her own pinned her hands above her head playfully, meeting her gaze with a challenge in his eyes.  Arwyn, a woman he had known to always need to be in charge of any situation, didn’t resist him as he made her submissive to him.  He smiled, shifting his hips down till the broad head of his sex was pressing against her silken nether lips.  Arwyn’s eyelids drooped halfway closed and she nodded her readiness at him.  He pushed his hips forward, the woman gasping and arching her neck as the head of his shaft pierced her.

            “Gareth!” she gasped out, her shoulders rising from the dusty mattress as he slid slowly into her to the hilt.  Her long legs rose and wrapped about his hips, the soles of her feet flat against his buttocks pulling him deeper.  She sucked her plump lower lip into her mouth and chewed it ecstatically, stifling the joyful scream that threatened to burst forth.  For his part, Gareth the Archer had found the closest thing he ever would to his own personal heaven.  She was unbelievably tight, warm and wet at the same time and the way she moved beneath him, undulating in the way only a truly skilled lover knows how nearly had him reach his second orgasm right then!  “Take me now… take me!”  He was only too happy to oblige her.

            Gareth’s hips started to move, driving into her with repeated, deep thrusts, the sounds of them coming together reverberating through the room.  Arwyn whimpered and sighed in delight, her hips rising to meet his each time, matching his rhythm perfectly.  He sought her soft lips with his own and found them, her tongue spearing deep into his mouth, surprising him with her forcefulness.  In time he released her hands as well, his own far too eager to continue their exploration of her incredible body.  It was her breasts that he spent the most time on, for the deep cleavage that had been visible above her leather bustier for the last years had always driven him to distraction.  Breaking the kiss he moved his lips downward, Arwyn tilting her head back to allow him access to the long, slender column of her throat, then the smooth slopes of her breasts.  Again, his lips found her sensitive nipples and she gasped as he chewed on them gently, her hands sliding over his shoulders and then up into his hair, her fingers getting tangled in his dark brown locks.  “Yes!” she groaned, her orgasm mounting within her quickly, “God’s it’s been so long!”

            She screamed, startling him with the volume and pitch of it, her whole body convulsing as her orgasm overtook her.  He kissed her again, just to stifle her impassioned cry, fully aware that while they were alone in the building Cassidy wasn’t far off.  His own orgasm overcame him then and he grunted, driving deep into Arwyn’s lissome form as he exploded into her, his hot seed filling her womb.  Several long, deep lunges later he collapsed atop her, their sweat mingling as they gasped, clinging to each other as lovers often do after such strenuous exertion.

            “Would it sound corny,” he mumbled into her ear, “if I told you that you are the most skilled lover I have ever known?”

            She smiled and laughed softly.  “Considering your reputation… yes it would.  But thank you, I’ll take it as a compliment anyway.”  She turned her head, their faces inches apart.  “You’re pretty incredible yourself.”  They held each other's gaze for a long moment, then his face drifted in and she accepted his kiss, their lips coming together softly at first.  Quickly their passion mounted and, though he could nary believe it, Gareth felt himself swelling once again.  Arwyn was responding too, her body coming back to life as she felt his manhood, still buried inside her, rise and harden eagerly.  Before Gareth could take charge of the coupling once more Arwyn’s personality exerted itself and she locked her legs about his waist, then twisted her hips.  He laughed as she rolled him onto his back, riding him the whole way till she came to rest atop the male archer, puffs of dust rising from the mattress, as they had been doing the whole time the couple had been utilizing it.

            Arwyn started to move atop him, her hips undulating sensuously, her vaginal muscles contracting intermittently, squeezing him lovingly inside of her.  Gareth’s eye widened and he gasped, never had he known a woman with that level of control before!  His hands found her sleek, toned thighs and caressed their way up to her hips, then traced the sides of her waist. His fingers played over her ribcage, sending shivers of delight through Arwyn and finally he filled his hands with her breasts once again, his strong fingers kneading the solid globes, rolling her large nipples between his fingers.  Arwyn’s hands were on his chest, scraping down gently through the  thick matt of hair that covered it, but not so gently that they didn’t leave streaks of white in his skin.  “You’re insatiable.”  She whispered, leaning over to look down into his face, her long blonde hair falling around their heads, making a golden tunnel between them.

            “Only because my hunger for you knows no limits.”  he told her honestly.  Arwyn laughed at him, thinking it a sweet but silly thing to say.  Gareth chose to prove his point then, thrusting powerfully upward with his hips, lifting the blonde into the air.  Arwyn gasped out, her back arching dramatically, her hair flying in a whirl of motion to tumble down her back and over her shoulders.  He lowered his hips and she came to rest on her knees, still astride him, her eyes wide with surprise as she looked down to meet his.  “I’ve wanted this… wanted you for longer than you know.  There have been other women Arwyn, but none of them can come close to you.” Her expression softened as she looked into his eyes, realizing he was being completely truthful.  They started to move together again, knowing this would have to be the final time and so making it last as long as they could.  Long minutes later they lay together on the bed, Arwyn nestled up to his side, her head on his shoulder, his arm about hers.

            “I love you, Arwyn.”  He told her softly.

            She sighed, her fingers toying lightly with his chest hair.  “I know.”  she said at last.

            “You don’t have to say it back… it’s alright.  I am content for you to know how I feel, for now at least.”  He tightened his arm about her, a possessive gesture… claiming her as his own.  She smiled, not against the notion.

            “As I said earlier Gareth, should we survive the coming battle then maybe… maybe we can explore this relationship further.  Who knows what might be possible in a world without Mordath looming over us?”  She leaned in and kissed his chest lightly, her tongue flicking out playfully at his nipple.

            “I would wait for you an eternity if necessary.”  He told her, and she smiled again.  Then there serenity was shattered by a sharp scream.  One of surprise mingled with pain. They were up in an instant, Gareth flying to the window that overlooked the street while Arwyn instantly started gathering her clothing.

            “That was Cassidy, wasn’t it?”  She asked.  He was peering around the edge of a frayed and very worn curtain.  He nodded.  “What’s happening out there?”

            “Looks like a patrol of trolls got the drop on her.”  He said, then cursed vividly.  “There must be twelve of the bastards!”

            Arwyn joined him at the window, her belt already back about her shapely hips, her fingers tightening the ties up the front of her corset.  She looked over his shoulder down into the street.  “Damn it.  Look.... there’s another prisoner there as well.”

            Gareth, who had been watching one of the trolls drag Cassidy down the street in their direction, saw then that Arwyn was correct.  There was a man with them as well, tall and slender with red brown hair, a streak of white up its center.  His face was hidden as he was bent and staggering along, a troll gripping his upper arm in a powerful hold.  “Don’t know the man.”

            Arwyn shook her head, then glanced around as if suddenly realizing something.  “Gareth… our bows are downstairs!”  He spun from the window and, seeing she was right, cursed again.  “Get dressed!”  she said to him urgently, then, already fully clothed herself, she dashed from the room.  She felt a fool, for being so far from Ayden’s bow was horribly risky.  If Mordath got hold of it, it didn’t matter if they had the arrow or not, it couldn’t be fired without the bow.

            Arwyn sprinted down the short hallway and started down the stairs, but she halted and ducked back up them when she heard the trolls burst through the door of the tavern. “See if there’s anything good left behind the bar.  Beating on this human has caused me to work up a thirst!”  This from a baritone voice, the words slightly slurred by the mouth full of jagged teeth they were spoken around.  Arwyn crouched, then quietly lay down on the ground, head and shoulders extended down the staircase till she could see through the banister what was happening in the room below.  There were indeed twelve trolls to this patrol, one of them, likely the leader, held a struggling Cassidy in his lap, a burly arm about her bare waist as he sat in one of the rooms unbroken chairs and issued orders to his men.  The other prisoner, whose face she could now see was a bloody mask was being held upright by another troll who stood in a corner near the wall, a strong arm about the human’s shoulders to keep him upright.  Arwyn watched Cassidy struggle, the sexy thief seeming to be interested only in escaping the brute that held her, not that Arwyn could blame her.  Mordath’s trolls were notoriously brutal, she herself had been held by them more than once, each time narrowly avoiding rape.

            Beyond the trolls, leaning against the wall near the door were hers and Gareth’s bows, right where they had left them.  They were somewhat concealed behind a table, but not so much that the trolls wouldn’t notice them soon.  Would they recognize Ayden’s bow?  Had Mordath drilled them enough on its appearance that they would recognize it easily?

            The troll holding Cassidy laughed, “Feisty this one, eh boys?”  The other trolls in the room laughed with him.  “Should be fun to break that spirit I think!”

            “No!”  Cassidy growled, struggling all the harder.  The troll holding her reached up with his free hand and grabbed her by her short black hair, forced her to half turn in his lap so that she was facing him and then crushed his mouth to hers bruisingly.  Arwyn scowled, she had never particularly liked Cassidy, but she wouldn’t wish such treatment on anyone.  She noticed a change in the cat burglar’s demeanor just then and realized with a start that the thief, her position having been changed by the troll, had probably seen the bows leaning against the wall.  When the troll broke the kiss, laughing again, Cassidy glanced quickly and frantically around.  Her brown eyes found and locked with Arwyn’s at the top of the stairs.

            “Yeah… let’s get to the good stuff!” the troll chortled happily, standing up and slamming Cassidy bodily down on the table next to where he had been sitting.  Arwyn started to rise, reaching for the sword that was on her belt, but she noticed the thief looking up at her.  Cassidy shook her head slightly, imploring her with her eyes not to interfere.  The troll was tearing at Cassidy’s black leather armor gleefully, his companions all watching with hungry eyes, perhaps thinking they would get turns on the sexy human when their leader was done with her.

            ‘How could she not want me to help her?’  Arwyn wondered to herself, and then she understood.  Self-centered and selfish as Cassidy was, she knew how important it was that Ayden’s bow not fall into the hands of Mordath.  She knew that so long as the troll’s attention was on her… they were less likely to see the bows, which of course would also tell them that there were other people in the building.  Her opinion of Cassidy escalated a couple of notches right then.  Sensing a presence behind her, but knowing it would be Gareth, she turned her head and saw him standing in the hall behind her, his back to the wall, one hand resting on the sword at his hip.  He looked a question at her with his eye.

            As quietly as she could, though the troll’s downstairs were making too much noise to hear her anyway, she backed from the stairs and stood up.  She leaned in so she could speak softly to her lover.  “There are twelve of them, they have Cassidy and the other man downstairs.  They haven’t seen the bows yet, they’re too… distracted by Cassidy.”

            It took a moment for her meaning to sink in, but when it did his eye widened in alarm and he made to head for the stairs.  “We have to help her!”

            Arwyn grabbed his arm, stopping him.  “Gareth no.”  He wheeled on her angrily and if Arwyn had questioned whether or not he still cared for the thief, she had just had it confirmed, but she knew now that he didn’t love Cassidy.  “She doesn’t want us to.  She knows what’s at stake if those trolls find Ayden’s bow.”

            His gaze searched her beautiful face for a moment, and she realized that for a second he had thought her reluctance to help the thief had been due to her jealousy of the woman.  She could also see he immediately regretted that thought.  “We can’t just leave her to them!”

            “We won’t, but neither can we go charging down there into such odds!  We have no chance against them, especially without Ayden’s bow.”  he knew she was right, of course.  Her bow was quite possibly the most powerful artifact on all of Quinn, he had seen the explosive power of the arrows fired from it firsthand.

            The sound of Cassidy’s continued struggles against the leader of the troll patrol echoed up the stairs to them.  Then the leader’s voice did as well, sending a chill down their spines.  “You two, we had better scout the building just in case.  This one was keeping watch for someone, never know who might be around.”

            Arwyn and Gareth exchanged a panicked look as they heard a pair of heavy footfalls moving toward the stairs.  Spinning, they headed down the hallway, Gareth in the lead.  He was faster than Arwyn and ducked back into the room they had so blissfully occupied mere minutes before.  Glancing over her shoulder, Arwyn saw that the trolls were going to reach the top of the stairs before she got to the room, so she ducked into a closer one and gagged, realizing too late it was the room they had seen earlier with the dead woman in it.

            Hearing the trolls coming down the hall Arwyn ducked behind the open door to the room, dismissing the thought of drawing her sword, knowing trolls have keen hearing and it would likely give her away.  “Ugh,” said one of the searchers, “the stench!  I’m not going in there!”  Arwyn heard the other troll chuckle slightly.

            “I’ll check it out, can’t smell nothing anyhow.  Ran afoul of some predatory lizards in Oudubai during that massive sandstorm, messed up more than my face.  Took most of my nose too so… you go and check the next one.”  Arwyn scowled behind the door, thinking back to a time not long ago when she had been the prisoner of Bohr, the supreme commander of Mordath’s trolls.  If this one had been with Bohr then, she might recognize him and worse, he might recognize her.  His voice did sound familiar, though she couldn’t place it exactly.  If he made a good search of this room, he was going to find her… so she needed to take him out first.

            Slowly she pushed the open door out of her way and made to step clear, but the hinges gave the faintest squeak and gave her away.  She winced as the man in the center of the room spun to face her and she was surprised at first to see he in fact wasn’t a troll!  And then her surprise was doubled when she realized she recognized him!  “You!”  His face was horribly scarred by something and indeed his nose seemed to have been gouged off by whatever had caused those horrible scars, but it was definitely Francis, the bandit who she had first met when his group had tried to molest her one night on the road in her camp.  Then she had encountered him again later in the desert wastes of Oudubai, it had been him that had lead Bohr and his men to her.  He had tried a couple of times while she was in Bohr’s custody to manhandle her, but the surprisingly honorable troll had intervened on her behalf.  Now it was just the two of them here in this room and while she didn’t know how he had survived the ordeal in the desert, she was suddenly determined he wasn’t going to live any longer!

            As she was processing all of this, she could see similar thoughts and emotions passing over Francis’s face, ending not in a scowl of hatred but a leer of elation.  Arwyn moved toward him her sword clearing leather with a faint whisper.  She hadn’t gone more than two paces however when his arm rose from within the cloak he wore, Arwyn only realizing it must have been the garment that kept her from recognizing that he wasn’t a troll from the window before.  In his hand was a crossbow, a quarrel already in place and the string locked back.  She stopped, her eyes narrowing as he centered the arrowhead between her burgeoning breasts. “Well well, the gods must be smiling on me today!  Toss that blade on the bed.”  He nodded toward the bed where the woman’s corpse rested.  “Recognized that thief downstairs, figured you had to be around here somewhere.  Where’s ol’ one eye?  He here too?”  Arwyn didn’t answer, just glared at him hatefully.  Francis just shrugged, his horribly scarred face twisting into a grin.  “Don’t matter, if he’s here the trolls will find him.”  He motioned toward the door behind her, “Close it, been itching for some quality alone time with you for months.”  Arwyn knew the truth of that statement, if she hadn’t gotten the better of him and his men that night in her camp she likely would have been subjected to gang rape then.  She was certain if Bohr hadn’t interceded in Oudubai he would have had her then too.  That night in her camp she had had Ayden’s bow and her faithful dog Kreeg, in Oudubai she had had Bohr.  Kreeg was dead and her bow was downstairs… he had disarmed her… Arwyn saw no way out but decided to bide her time, play along with him for now.  “Go on.”

            The blonde turned and closed the door softly, then turned back to face him, only to find he had moved up on her swiftly while her back was turned.  Her eyes widened in surprise at that, for she hadn’t known him to be capable of such stealth or swiftness.  He stood at arm's length, the crossbow at about the level of her throat.  His dull brown eyes, one of them nearly lost beneath a mass of scar tissue, played over Arwyn hungrily.  “Y’know Arwyn,” he said in an almost conversational manner, “I been thinking.”

            “Hope you didn’t strain yourself.”  she quipped.

            He scowled darkly, but kept on as if she hadn’t spoken.  “I’ve been all over the Five Lands, seen a lot of women in my time, bedded most of them.”  That last sounded like a bald-faced lie and she showed her opinion of it by rolling her eyes.  Even before his scars, Francis hadn’t been a handsome man.  He ignored her, “But I gotta say, none of them was anything close to you.  That night when my men and I saw your fire and were drawn to your camp…” he shook his head at the memory, “...I thought sure an angel had lost her wings.”

            “Am I supposed to be flattered you swine?” she asked him, her voice dripping venom and her face twisted into a mask of loathing.  There were few men in all the Five Lands of Quin that she truly despised, but Francis was certainly one of them.  He struck her then, lowering the crossbow as he stepped in and backhanded her savagely across the face.  Arwyn gasped and staggered to the side, slamming into the wall next to the door.  Francis was on her in a moment, slamming into her from behind and pinning her to the wall.  She could feel his body, soft and round but with an underlying hardness she wouldn’t have expected pressed against her from behind, his swollen member grinding against her ass obscenely.

            “It don’t matter how you feel about me whore!  You’re mine now… I own you!”  His hand slid up her thigh, past her hips and up her waist then around in front to squeeze her breast through the pliant leather of her brown leather top.

            Arwyn pushed off the wall with her hands, using that momentum to drive the back of her head violently into his face.  Francis bellowed in surprise, pain and rage as he staggered backward.  Arwyn spun, lashing out with one long, shapely leg as he brought the crossbow up.  She kicked it to the side and out of his grasp, sending it spinning under the bed.  Planting that foot on the ground she used it to pivot and lashed out with the other leg, driving it deep into his distended belly.  Doubling over, Francis staggered back, all the air leaving his lungs in a rush like a bellows, his foul breath gushing into Arwyn’s face.  Not willing to give an inch Arwyn advanced on him, driving a fist into his face and sending him staggering into the wall next to the bed.  She stepped in and threw another punch with the other fist, but this one he was ready for and knocked it easily aside, then he turned his shoulder into her and charged.  Arwyn grunted as she was borne backward, doubled over his rounded shoulder.

            Francis took three quick steps then he flung her bodily onto the bed, the archer bouncing once as she came to rest atop the desiccated remains of the woman’s body.  She blanched at the sight of the corpse so close to her, the rotting flesh still moist and crawling with maggots.  She started to roll away, desperate to be clear of the revolting thing but then Francis landed on top of her, pinning her to both the mattress and the corpse!  Arwyn was a wildcat as she struggled against him, pounding his shoulders and face with her fists, driving her knee repeatedly into his side, but he just grunted through it all, focused as he was on restraining her.  He caught first one and then the other of her wrists in his hands and transferred them to one then pinned them easily above her head.  Arwyn was strong for a woman, but Francis had weight, height and leverage on her, she couldn’t hope to break free.  One of her legs was pinned beneath him but the other was free and she continued to punish his side with her knee, driving it over and over into his ribs.  He winced in pain for her legs were toned and muscular, very strong and she knew how to use them to inflict pain.

            He had to transfer her wrists to his other hand but then the next time her knee came up he wrapped a burly arm around her thigh and pinned it to his side.  She continued to struggle madly, writhing and bucking beneath him, determined not to give him what he wanted.  But after her frolicking with Gareth and then the fight up to this point she was wearing down, and he sensed it.  When he grinned down at her Arwyn realized that whatever had so horribly scarred his already ugly face had taken nearly half his lips away in the process so that half his mouth was nothing but scar tissue.  His teeth were broken and uneven as though he had been punched in the mouth too often, which in his case was not only possible, but likely.  With a triumphant growl his brought his face down and crushed that foul, scarred mouth to hers.  Arwyn tried again to buck him off, but he was too heavy and in so doing she shifted her position so that Francis came to rest between her spread thighs and she felt his engorged manhood pressing against her most private part.

            “Get off me you pig!” she growled as he broke the kiss, trailing his lips down her cheek and then her neck, finally burying his face in her cleavage with a lustful groan.

            The door to the room suddenly rattled on its hinges as someone on the other side pounded noisily at it.  “Go away!”  Francis shouted at the door.

            His partner’s voice drifted through from the hallway.  “Francis!  What’s going on in there!  I found another human down the hall, did you find someone?”

            “He could definitely say that!”  Francis chuckled as he slid his tongue into Arwyn’s ear.  She gasped her revulsion even while thinking about the significance of the words spoken by the troll in the hall.  He had found Gareth, but if he had come back here to check with Francis then Gareth hadn’t killed him.  Had the troll then killed Gareth?  Her heart sank at the thought, as it did at the thought that they had come this far only to apparently have been stopped this close to finally defeating Mordath.  “Gods be damned you are one sexy bitch!”  he grunted as he reached between them with his hand and started working at the buckle of her belt.  A few moments later it slid off the bed to the floor and he was working at the fasteners of her brown leather pants.  “Time for ol’ Franky to show you what a real man feels like inside you!”  He laughed as she stiffened abruptly, his hand having slithered down inside her pants where he slid a finger up inside her experimentally.  “Woo!  You are tight!”  He lifted his head and grinned into her horrified expression, “You got a virgin cunt for ol’ Franky?”  He burrowed his finger into her deeper and his face fell slightly when he didn’t encounter a hymen, but it split into a grin as his thumb stroked her clitoris and caused the shapely blonde to cry out in surprise and arch her neck and shoulders as an unwanted wave of pleasure coursed through her.  “Liked that didn’t you bitch?”

            “You bastard!” she gasped out, perspiration breaking out across her forehead and cleavage.  He bent his head and licked it from her breasts, then smacked his lips as though taste testing.

            “That there’s a fine vintage!” he said, then laughed at his own joke.  Then the door to the room exploded inward as a body came flying through it.  Arwyn gasped in trepidation as she recognized Gareth slump to the ground in a heap.  She craned her neck as far as she could, her gaze stricken as she saw the bloody mask of his face, which had been horribly beaten almost beyond recognition.

            “Gareth!” she cried.

            Francis raised up on his elbows, his face a mask of anger as he looked over at the large troll who had obviously just thrown Gareth through the door.  He was scowling angrily at the human, his eyes then traveling to Arwyn and lingering there before moving back to Francis.  “What the fuck Krohn?”  Francis said, his voice a nasally whine without the benefit of his nose.  “Can’t you see I’m busy here?”

            The troll, whose name was apparently Krohn, spoke in a bass voice almost as impressive as the baritone their leader spoke in earlier. “Indeed, I can Francis, and you know Salrosh has first pick of any females we capture.”

            “Not this one!  Me and her, we got history.  She’s mine!  Besides, Salrosh already has that sexy little brunette downstairs.  Tell you what, you can have blondie here when I’m done with her, she’s prettier than Salrosh’s woman!”  Francis offered desperately.

            Krohn shifted his gaze to Arwyn then, who was staring up at him with obvious fright, though there was still a great deal of defiance in her gaze that the troll did not miss.  “She is comely for a human. But tell me Francis, why should I go after you, when I can easily take her from you?”

            “Hey… wait…!”  Krohn reached out with one massive hand and closed it over the back of Francis’s neck, hoisting him off Arwyn as though he weighed next to nothing and tossing the bandit dismissively across the room.  No sooner had the man's weight been lifted from Arwyn than she was moving, rolling swiftly off the bed to the floor. Krohn bent and reached for her, the look in his eyes showing he was already looking forward to the pleasures her body would bring him.  Arwyn brought her arm out from under the bed where it had gone when she fell to the ground, triggering the crossbow point blank into Krohn’s thick troll skull.

            The monster’s eyes reflected shock, then the light faded from them as he slumped to the ground, Arwyn scampering quickly under the bed to avoid being crushed beneath his bulk.  She pulled herself all the way under and slithered out the other side, between the bed and the wall and started to pull herself up by the bedding.  She wound up pulling the rotting corpse down on top of herself and gasped in revulsion again, taking a few grotesque moments to untangle herself from it.  By the time she had regained her feet Francis too had recovered and was on his.  Their eyes both fell simultaneously on her sword, which had been knocked from the bed where she tossed it during Francis’s attempted rape.  It lay on the ground near where Gareth was sprawled.  They went for it at the same time, Arwyn having to scramble over the bed while Francis, who she had already discovered was swift for his size had no obstacles between him and it.  She knew instantly he was going to get there first, but then Gareth’s hand closed around the man's ankle, and he cried out in frustration as he fell, his fingers falling inches short of the sword’s hilt.

            Arwyn dove from the top of the bed, her fingers closing around the hilt of the blade as she shoulder rolled to a crouch, coming out of it facing Francis who kicked Gareth savagely in the head as he struggled to his feet.  “No!” she cried, stepping toward her fallen lover and Francis took that opportunity to bolt for the door, screaming about an ambush.

            She let him go, dropping to her knees next to Gareth and rolling him toward her, cradling his bloodied head in her lap.  “Oh Gareth.”  She whispered, brushing hair from his forehead gently.  His eyes fluttered open and met hers.  He smiled faintly when he recognized her.  He tried to speak, but she shushed him gently.  She could hear footsteps pounding up the stairs, knew that her long fight against Mordath was soon to end and violently to be sure, but right then she didn’t care.  She could see the blood stain spreading on his chest, realized that the troll called Krohn must have run him through… she knew what was coming and a heart wrenching sob escaped her throat.

            “Gods you’re beautiful.”  He murmured, then he slumped lifeless in her arms.  Tears were streaming down her face as trolls swarmed into the room, sweeping over her and Gareth. His body was torn from her grasp, her sword too, and she cried out in pain as one of them grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to her feet.  A fist the size of a boulder was driven into her abdomen, lifting her feet off the floor and if not for the troll holding her hair she would have fallen.  The trolls dragged her from the room, leaving the body of Gareth on the floor of the room in a rapidly spreading pool of blood.  She was forced down the stairs in the company of the trolls, her eyes playing over the room.  There were four trolls escorting her down the stairs, and six gathered in the tavern.  Including Francis, who stood near the strange human prisoner and the troll that held him, that was all the foes accounted for.

            One of the trolls produced a pair of iron manacles from somewhere and Arwyn winced as her arms were twisted painfully behind her and the cuffs were secured around her forearms.  Cassidy was naked, mercifully unconscious and badly beaten, splayed across the table Arwyn had seen her placed on earlier.  She was laying on her side, one leg bent in front of her and the other lifted high to the side, her knee draped over the shoulder of the troll leader Salrosh whose massive phallus was bloodying the poor thief as he drove into her over and over again, grunting in satisfaction with every mighty thrust.  Cassidy’s body was jerking, the table sliding slightly with his every movement.  Arwyn, fairly certain the other woman was already dead, turned her face away from the brutality.

            Salrosh howled at the ceiling as he blew his load into Cassidy, certainly not for the first time and then stepped away from the human woman.  Her body slumped lifelessly to the floor and Salrosh watched it, his expression devoid of emotion.  He shrugged, taking a moment to conceal his immense manhood back within his pants before he turned to regard Arwyn.  When his gaze fell on her for the first time his vivid red eyes widened, then they slid slowly down her body and back up, lingering both ways on her breasts, hips and crotch for indecently vulgar periods of time.  “Well well,” he said, his baritone voice so deep it seemed to make the room around her vibrate, “what have we here?”

            “That there’s Arwyn, the archer Mordath’s been looking for.”  Francis said softly from the other side of the room.  Arwyn glanced hatefully in his direction, and he smirked at her.  “Look there… Ayden’s bow!”  Her heart sank as Salrosh’s massive horned head turned and saw the intricately crafted bow for the first time.

            The troll, who Arwyn thought larger even than Bohr had been, and he was the biggest she had ever seen, nodded as he turned back to her.  “It would seem that my human is correct.”  The immense monster lumbered toward her, the boards beneath her feet vibrating under his boots.  “Bohr has ordered that you be turned over to Mordath unharmed.”  He raised a fist slowly toward her face, extending a long, clawed finger.  Arwyn would have turned away but one of the trolls grabbed her by the hair again and kept her from doing so.  As he spoke, Salrosh ran the claw of that finger over her plump lower lip, then slid the finger between her lips.  “Unfortunately for you woman, it is my belief that Bohr will be removed from command on his return to Mordath’s castle and I Salrosh shall be given his place.”  He removed his finger from her mouth and slid the claw slowly down her chin.  The troll holding her hair forced her head back and Salrosh trailed the claw languidly down the length of her throat then along her collarbone and finally down along the low-cut neckline of her leather corset.  Slowly, as though unwrapping a present, Salrosh began to untie the leather twine cinching her corset together.  Arwyn swallowed nervously, remembering all too well the punishment he had been dealing to Cassidy when she came down the stairs, how the other woman had been bloody from his rape.  “Don’t fear wench, I’m not fool enough to actually let you die before turning you over to Mordath, but that doesn’t mean I won’t have some fun with you first! Or that my men won’t either!”  He laughed at the look of anger that came over her face.  Arwyn was not a woman easily prone to fear, though she did feel it.  Anger was what drove her, and she was angry now because she knew her situation to be hopeless… her allies were dead, and she was in the clutches of her most hated enemies.

            “Don’t touch her you sick freak!”  her eyes flicked with surprise toward the male prisoner, still in the clutches of the troll by the door.  Francis glanced at him in surprise too, evidently the man hadn’t said too much.

            Salrosh turned slowly from Arwyn, his burning gaze settling on the beaten prisoner.  “So… he speaks at last.  Perhaps now you’re ready to tell us why we found you wandering in the wilds outside of town?”  He glanced back at Arwyn then spoke to her almost conversationally, as though they were old friends discussing the weather.  “We thought him drunk at first… staggering back and forth, clutching at his head and moaning in pain.  Wouldn’t talk to us no matter how hard we beat him.”

            The man had lifted his head now, giving Arwyn her first clear look at his face.  He was human, in his forties though it was difficult to determine age under all the blood coating his face.  He had a long face, drawn and tense looking but not unattractive.  The most striking things about him to the archer was the white stripe down the middle of his red brown hair and his strange attire.  He wore a style of clothing she had never seen before, a jacket over a lightweight shirt of some kind and pants that looked to be of the same material as the jacket.  It wasn’t armor and it wasn’t any style of dress she had encountered in her travels.  He was one of the oddest sights she had set eyes upon in some time, a mystery she might have been  keen to solve were the situation different.

            “I said… don’t… touch… that… woman!”  the man with the stripe in his hair growled at the massive troll.

            Salrosh laughed.  “Chivalrous for a little whelpling, isn’t he?”  His men laughed and then Salrosh turned deliberately back to Arwyn and reached out to cradle her face in one of his massive hands.  “It would seem the human scum over there is a decent sort… he doesn’t want me to do… this!”  His mouth found hers, the teeth protruding over his upper lips bruising painfully against hers. Arwyn’s eyes widened in surprise and then Salrosh’s tongue forced its way into her mouth, so long she felt its tip exploring the back of her throat.  His right hand settled on her left breast and squeezed painfully, even through the leather corset while his left settled on her right hip and used it to pull her pelvis snugly against him.  He was much taller than her, so his engorged manhood was pressed against her flat belly, long enough that she could feel it from her navel all the way to her breasts.  She realized his tip would be cradled between them were they both nude.  Indeed, he was a massive beast of a monster!

            Salrosh broke away from Arwyn, a thick trail of slimy saliva dripping from his mouth, attached to hers.  He laughed at the look of disgust on her face then he turned toward the human, but his laughter died in a scowl as he saw the man's eyes.  It seemed that there were actual flames dancing in his gaze!  “Gone, gone the form of man,” he chanted, his voice growing deeper and deeper as it continued, until it was more of a growling baritone than even Salrosh’s own voice, “arise the Demon...Etrigan!”  Suddenly the human convulsed so powerfully that he was torn from the grip of his troll captor, staggering forward and doubled over, clutching at his middle.  Francis backed away a few steps even as the other trolls, forgetting for the moment about Arwyn, moved toward this unknown new threat.  Arwyn’s gaze flickered toward Ayden’s bow across the room, but her quiver was upstairs on her belt!

            The human groaned and the groan became a monstrous growl. Arwyn’s eyes flew to him, then widened as she saw the seams of his jacket burst as he seemed to swell.  He didn’t seem to grow taller, but he swelled, muscles growing from the slender man’s body.  His hair sunk into his head and his ears grew into wide, fan like things.  She saw his fingers clench and then sprout claws and just as Salrosh howled, “Kill him!” the creature who had been a man threw its head back and howled at the ceiling.  The troll that had been holding the human leaped at him, thinking to grab him again but the monster, whatever it was spun and slapped the troll away.  The troll, head and shoulders taller than this creature, was flung backward, into and then through the wall behind it!  The other trolls roared and charged, piling on top of the creature, save for Salrosh who seemed more tactically minded and stayed back, gauging the new adversaries capabilities.  Arwyn could only stand there by the bar and watch, though she cast an eye toward Ayden’s bow a few times there was nothing she could do with her hands manacled behind her back.

            From within the pile of trolls came the deep, resonant voice, “Fight and gouge, gouge and fight, it will not help you escape your plight!”  Suddenly troll bodies were flying in all directions as the creature straightened, flinging its powerfully muscled arms out to the sides and tossing the whole pile of trolls away as though they were ragdolls.  The demon, for Arwyn could think of no other word to describe the creature, settled its fiery red gaze upon her then and she saw its eyes widen with delight.  She felt a shiver of trepidation run down her spine at the unmistakable look of lust that entered its visage then.  He leaped into the air, sailing effortlessly toward her and Arwyn staggered to one side to avoid being hit by the creature before it landed in a crouch atop the taverns bar.  A definite odor of sulfur assailed her nostrils as the creature leaned toward her, its ravenous gaze dropping to her abundant cleavage, more of it visible than usual after Salrosh loosened the laces of her corset, and it spoke, “Though they be of greater size, I’ll slay these fiends and claim my prize!”  A long, prehensile tongue slithered from his mouth and toward Arwyn’s face.  She gagged and gasped, staggering away from the creature which laughed manically and then launched itself at the next closest troll.  Arwyn watched it go, her eyes tracking the demon’s movements, amazed at the dexterity of so bulky a creature.  In mid-air it flipped, slamming its feet into the troll and sending the monster flying backward, through the tavern’s doorway and into the street.  Arwyn was certain she had heard the troll’s ribcage shatter from the impact.  The demon had no sooner landed than it was off again, laughing hysterically as it launched itself at Salrosh.  The troll leader ducked and the demon, whose name Arwyn thought based on the little chant the human had said was Etrigan, sailed over his head and toward another troll.  This one had been the creature that was holding Arwyn, the one that had put the manacles on her.  Etrigan took his head off his shoulders with a swipe of one mighty hand, the body toppling to the side as blood geysered up from the stump of its neck.

            As the battle raged on around her Arwyn made for the fallen troll, dropping to her knees at its side and turning her back to it, awkwardly searching the creature for the keys to her manacles.  It took some time, but she found them and then a few moments later she was free, the manacles lying on the ground at her feet.  Moving quickly now Arwyn scrambled for Ayden’s bow, miraculously still leaning against the wall nearby.  Once her fingers curled around the smooth wooden finish she felt instantly better, as though holding the magical bow had bestowed strength upon her.  Her eyes cast about the room, surely one of these trolls had carried a quiver?  Yes!  She saw one on a body near the door, a few steps away.

            “Try to flee if you can, but no one escapes from Etrigan!”  the demon's voice reverberated through the tavern as it sailed by overhead.  Arwyn drew an arrow from the fallen troll’s quiver and spun, notching it to the string of Ayden’s bow.  She drew the string back to her smooth cheek, the fletching of the arrow tickling her slightly and sighted down the shaft of the arrow on Etrigan.  He had nearly taken out all the trolls in the time it had taken her to free and arm herself.  Arwyn held no misconceptions about her situation, she knew that once Etrigan killed the trolls, he would be coming for her.  She had seen that lustful gleam in his eyes and while she had no idea who the man was that had turned into the demon, obviously he had no real control over this part of his persona.  Then she saw Salrosh from the corner of her eye creeping toward the demon, a massive sword in hand and her priorities shifted, just like that.  Her aim shifted too, centering now on the troll leader.  “Salrosh!”

            The troll had raised the sword and was preparing to leap on Etrigan from behind.  He spun toward her and Etrigan spun toward the troll, his mouth dripping blood from the wound he had just inflicted in the throat of Salrosh’s last soldier.  His eyes fell on Arwyn, recognized the weapon in her hands and they widened, for the reputation of Ayden’s bow was well deserved.  She released the borrowed arrow and as it left the bow it was engulfed in fiery energy, shooting across the room in a brilliant streak of light.  Salrosh attempted to defend himself, bringing the sword around in a defiant attempt at a parry, but it was for naught.  The magical arrow struck him high on the chest and exploded, flinging the massive troll backward.  His lower back struck the bar, and he toppled over it, collapsing in a heap on the floor.  A gaping hole in his chest smoked slightly from the impact of the arrow.

            Arwyn whisked another arrow up from the fallen trolls’ quiver and notched to her bowstring, then aimed center mass on the broad chest of the yellow skinned demon.  “Stay back!” she warned him.  He had saved her from the trolls after all, perhaps he deserved the benefit of the doubt?

            “Etrigan thought you a damsel in distress, then you saved me from duress!”  The demon was crouched on the ground in front of the bar, gazing at her in wonder.  The lust was still there, but it was tempered now by something else… respect.  “When next our meeting should arise, ‘tis Etrigan you’ll have between your thighs!”  Arwyn scowled, drawing her bowstring back a little farther but then Etrigan lowered his head and intoned, “Gone now O’ Etrigan, rise again the form of man!”

            The demon groaned and staggered, clutching at its middle as the human had done earlier.  Arwyn watched, never lowering her bow till the demon was gone, shrinking back down to the size of a human.  He staggered and caught himself against a table, his red brown hair with the streak of white returned.  He lifted his face, drawn and pale but fully healed from the beating the trolls had inflicted upon him and looked at her beseechingly.  “Please… don’t shoot me, I mean you no harm.”  His voice was weak and drawn and Arwyn realized that the transformation took a lot out of him, but judging by appearance it also gave him a lot too, like healing his human form.

            After some hesitation in which she honestly considered just killing the man, she lowered her bow.  “Who are you?”

            “My name…” he said as he lowered himself weakly into a chair, “...is Jason Blood.”

            “Well Master Blood… you have a condition.”  she said, straightening and moving across the room to crouch beside Cassidy.  She checked for a pulse and found none.  Her head drooped sadly; she had known the poor girl was dead but she had hoped she might have been wrong.

            He chuckled sadly at her words.  “Etrigan and I have coexisted in this form for hundreds of years.”  She glanced up at him in surprise, for he truly didn’t look more than a man of forty.  She wouldn’t have called him handsome, but neither was he ugly.  He was… intriguing looking.  He looked then to the body of the woman next to Arwyn.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t help your friend; I hadn’t yet regained enough of my senses to summon Etrigan by the time that… thing had finished with her.”  he looked around at the carnage wrought by his alter ego.  “What are these things anyway?”

            Arwyn stood and gazed at Jason Blood as though he had taken leave of his senses.  “You’ve never encountered trolls before?”

            “Indeed I have, but the trolls I remember look nothing like these.”  Jason told her.

            “Which leads me to think you aren’t from around here.”  she said, moving to sit on a chair opposite him.  She realized then that he was nude and she blushed slightly, turning her face away.

            Seemingly oblivious to his condition and her reaction to it he nodded, “So it would seem, though I confess, I have no idea where here is.”

            “You are in the Five Lands, on the planet we call Quin.”  She told him and could see by his blank expression that he had no idea what she was talking about.  “Where are you from?”

            “The planet Earth, in the year two thousand and seventeen, most recently at least.”  he sighed, then suddenly realized he was naked and hunched in on himself.  “My goodness… it seems I’m in a bit of an embarrassing predicament.  Could I impose upon you… I’m sorry, you haven’t told me your name yet.”

            “Arwyn.” she said.

            “Beautiful,” he murmured, and she didn’t think he was talking about her name, “could I impose upon you Arwyn to find me something to wear?”

            “Well, considering your actions saved me from a likely death by troll gang rape… yes, that’s the least I can do.  Wait here Jason Blood.”  She pushed herself to her feet and started for the door, already knowing there was nothing to be found upstairs other than Gareth’s dead body and she didn’t think she was ready to face that just yet, but she knew she would have to soon.  “I’ll see what I can salvage in the city, though I warn you, it won’t be as… fashionable as the attire you wore earlier.”

            He smiled wanly.  “Perhaps something more befitting the time and place would be good.”  He said and she nodded, walking from the tavern.

            Several hours later the man named Jason Blood had helped Arwyn to bury her friends in the cemetery where she would have buried her husband and daughter, had there been anything left to bury.  It turned out he had been a man of the cloth at some point in his long existence and he said a fitting eulogy, considering he hadn’t known either of the deceased.  After that Arwyn and Jason had walked away from the city, neither of them speaking for some time before Arwyn turned to him.  “I have a mission to complete… an undead despot to kill.  My chances of success are… slim at best.”

            He smiled slightly.  “Perhaps they are better with a… demon at your disposal?”

            “I can’t ask you to come with me, Mordath is dangerous… beyond anything you’ve ever seen.”  she said.

            Jason Blood threw his head back and laughed at that, surprising her.  It was the first time he had laughed since she met him.  “You would be surprised what I have seen and survived.”  He sighed, “You are the only ally I have in this strange land Arwyn, I would be a sorry excuse for a friend if I left you to face this evil alone.  I’m in.”

            Arwyn nodded her thanks.  “And… the other guy?”

            Jason shrugged. “If there is blood to be shed it can be assumed Etrigan will be involved willingly.”

            “Before he… relinquished control back to you he said something.  Something that gives me concern for his return.”  Arwyn said hesitantly.

            Blood nodded his understanding.  “I’m guessing it had something to do with you and becoming his next sexual conquest?”

            “Something like that, yes.”  she said.

            “Understand something Arwyn.  Etrigan is a demon.  More than that, he is a prince of Hell.  He is completely evil and he lusts… for battle, for blood and for other things that men lust for.  He also has very good taste in women.”  She blushed slightly at that and looked away.  “He cannot be trusted for anything but to destroy.  I can force him to revert to me on occasion, but anyone can say the words.  Understand?  Learn the chant.  If he is coming at you and he isn’t stopping… you can say the words and force him to revert.  So long as he can hear them.”

            “Gone now O’ Etrigan, rise again the form of man.”  she muttered to herself.  “Does it work for the other one too?  If I say it, will he come out?”

            Blood nodded.  “I prefer to be the one to do that, but there could be a circumstance where you would have to.”

            She paused, then asked, “Does it hurt?  The transformation?”

            “Excruciating.”  He said with a smile.

            “Then I’m sorry Jason Blood.”

            “Me too Arwyn.”  with that they set out for the castle of Mordath.

To be continued….