The Pillaging of an Empire

by Amanda Clover

  Unrolling it revealed a land starkly different from the one she had travelled through for the last week, and yet, familiar too. Greta bit her lower lip in concentration as she scrutinized the ancient map, a relic of a time long past, when Istanov wasn’t even an idea. A memory of a world long gone lay before her.

  But not quite forgotten.

  Engrossed in the map, she barely heard the faint rattling sound. Her head snapped up, her eyes wide as they roamed over the old inn. The building settling? Could be. Only…

  Greta slowly stood, peering into the darkness which shrouded the interior of the inn. “Hello?” she called warily. “Someone there?”

  Again, the sound repeated, and she moved towards the source. The window had survived largely intact whatever fate had befallen the town, and through it now she peered.

  Something was moving down the street.

  Greta sucked in a breath, freezing in shock. Small, only coming up to her waist, the skulking figure had a disproportionately large head and ragged, flopping ears. A lanky body was garbed in only a tattered loin cloth, and in his hand he dragged along a crude club, the source of the clacking sound she’d heard as he dragged it over the uneven cobblestones.

  Greta drew back from the window. A gertling. One of the lesser monsters, but no doubt sporting the same curse as all monsters of the Duke of Ashes. The curse of breeding. She cursed herself. She’d gotten careless. Weeks without encountering another soul had dulled her caution. She reached for her knife, and then recalled she was in nothing but her lacy bra and panties.

  Only then did realization strike her. She turned back towards the fire and the entirety of her predicament hit her as the rattling of the gertling’s club drew nearer the door. She hadn’t time! Her eyes flashed about, spying a closet. Without a thought she scampered within and shut the door behind her.

  A hole where the handle once was let in a beam of light. Crouching down, Greta peered through and back into the common room, just in time for the door to open and the gertling enter. The stunted monster paused, peering about with his large eyes. His hooked nose sniffed the air carefully like a hound.

  Greta watched, heart pounding as the stunted creature slowly prowled inside, peering about carefully. He made straight for the still flickering flame, and her cast off clothes.

  …Shit. Which meant hiding wouldn’t do her much good. The creature would know she was in the inn. Idiot! She nearly slammed her head against the door in frustration before recalling how much worse that would make the situation. Drat! What were the words to that stun spell? She squinted as she tried to comb through the cobwebs of her mind, searching for the right pronunciation. It had to be perfect or the spell was liable to bounce back and paralyze her. And oh, what a perfect capper to the evening that would be.

  The gertling stared at her cast-off clothes carefully. It kneeled down and picked up her pants, turning them over. She caught her breath, her concentration slipping away in a humiliated flush as the gertling brought her pants to its hooked nose and inhaled heavily. The gertling let out a ragged moan and sniffed again her dirty pants, then finally took them away and deposited them.

  But then he saw the map.

  Greta’s heart jumped into her throat as the stunted monster crept over to the map and crouched down. He cocked his head and picked it up, peering at it. The gertling pursed his lips without understanding, then turned towards the falling fire. He held it out.

  “No!” Greta gasped from the closet.

  The gertling snapped about in her direction. Greta slapped her hand over her mouth. Oh damn it!

  The gertling abandoned the map, which was some comfort, but followed it up by charging at her hiding spot, which was less encouraging. She shrank back as the tiny monster threw open the door and beheld the shapely brunette within, still clad in only her underclothes.

  The gertling’s mouth widened in a grin, showing a row of sharp teeth. “Nice wo-man,” the monster purred.

  “S-stay back now,” Greta said, shrinking away from the monster. “I know magic!”

  “Me know magic too. Magic cock!” the gertling cackled.

  “You asked for it! Tessinaaaaah!” she squealed as the gertling suddenly grabbed her panties, yanking them down and revealing her shaved pink cunny. Without thinking she bent forward to pull them back up, and for her trouble received a sharp spank that sent her to her knees with a squeal, scattering the spell she’d been focusing on.

  Even as she planted her hands on the floor to push herself back up she felt the gertling behind her, his bony fingers grasping the soft, pale flesh of her ass. Her head snapped up in shock as she felt his hot breath on the seam of her ass. “W-ait! Stop! Don’t!”

  “Me know slut wants Dinni’s cock,” the gertling cackled, the warty head of his stunted shaft pressing against the tight ring of her ass.

  “No! No I doooooon’t!” Greta groaned as the gertling pushed forward, filling her ass with his tiny cock. She gasped at the strangeness of the sensation. The warty nubs all along his shaft stroking her tight inner walls in ways she’d never imagined she could be touched. She gasped, cried out again as the gertling fucked her bottom, without tenderness of caring, slamming his thin hips into her shapely rear with fleshy smacks as he frantically rutted her.

  “Ohhhh noooooo!” Greta groaned as the gertling claimed her ass. Her mind fumbled for the words of the spell even as the gertling took his pleasure from her. She bit her lip to stifle the gasps that threatened to escape from her, clawing the floor as the gertling clung to her bottom.

  “Oooohhhhhhnnnnn!” Dinni suddenly cried out, slamming his cock even more frantically into her ass as he suddenly came. Greta squealed in surprise as she felt his oily cum pump into her back passage, filling her in sharp bursts of his tiny prick. Even then the gertling didn’t stop, riding out his orgasm, his cock slimy and wet and his bony hips slapping her plush bottom.

  Greta panted, kneeling there, her heavy breasts hanging low. With a groan the gertling drew his cock from her ass. “Mnnn. Good slut,” the gertling cooed, patting her ass. “Now, me take cove!”

  Fear shot through Greta. She lurched upright, twisting around to face the gertling, the words of the spell flashing in her mind like a sudden inspiration. “Tessina surais!” she cried, pointing at the startled monster.

  And oh it felt good to see the Dinni’s grin turn to a look of abject terror as cords of golden light suddenly wrapped around him, the gertling screaming like a stuck pig as he toppled, arms and legs wrenched back, bound to his sides in glowing bands of magic.

  Greta pushed herself to her feet, wincing at the pain in her ass. Good thing the gertling’s cock had been so small. After all, she had a long journey still ahead, and the last thing she needed was the ache of a monster’s attempt to fuck her slowing her down. She turned to face the gertling, and the fear in its large eyes made her smile.

  “Alright, listen up,” she said, planting her foot on the gertling’s bony chest, making the tiny monster wheeze as she leaned over it. “I warned you. I know magic. You chose the wrong woman to fuck with, monster.”

  “Me soooorry,” the gertling whined.

  “Oh are you?” she said, noticing how even now the monster’s eyes slipped down to her bared pink pussy. “Hmph! I bet. You didn’t regret it when you were fucking my ass, now did you?”

  “Me sorry! Me couldn’t help! Wo-man just so lovely!”

  “Oh shut up,” she said, though couldn’t hide a degree of satisfaction at the stunted creature’s words. “Now listen up, you little wretch. Dinni, was it? The only reason I haven’t turned you into a frog is because I have some questions. And you damn well better answer them. It’s the least you can do after stuffing that filthy thing up my arse.”

  The gertling nodded his head so fast his ears flapped like bat wings. “Me answer. Me be good!”

  “That’s the spirit.” Greta took her foot off her chest, walking back to her things, and put in a little extra swing in her hips, knowing the gertling w
as staring raptly at her curves. She snatched up the cast aside map and checked it again, breathing out in relief to see it undamaged. Getting the little gertling’s cock up her ass was a small price to pay to keep it safe. She returned to the monster, who stopped wriggling the instant she loomed over him like a vengeful goddess.

  “See this?” she demanded, thrusting the map in Dinni’s face. She poked the shape of a mountain. “Do you know this? The mountain that looks like an old man’s face?”

  Dinni stared at it. She caught a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “Beard Mountain!” the gertling said. “Me know!”

  Excitement flared in her chest. She knew it was around here! “Where is it?” she demanded, shoving the map more firmly against his nose. “Come on now! Where?”

  The gertling squirmed in discomfort. “Gertlings not go near. It cursed mountain! Bad things haunt.”

  “Well that’s just too bad. Because in exchange for what you did to me, you’re going to lead me to it!”

  “What!” the gertling squealed.

  Greta was a little surprised at her own words, but once they were said, she found the idea appealing. After all, better to have a guide than wander blindly among the monster infested hills, searching for landmarks lost to time. “That’s right,” she said forcefully. “And to make sure you behave yourself…”

  She hissed out a word that made the gertling’s shadow grow. The monster froze, his eyes darting side to side as his shadow slowly wrapped around his throat like choking hands, forming a collar dark as midnight. The gertling trembled in horror as he felt the dark magic at work, and not even when the shadow receded did he calm, for it left around his throat a band as dark as the fire was bright.

  “There,” Greta said. “Now, any time I want, my spell will choke you. And if I die, it will strangle you completely. Understand?”

  “Take off!” Dinni wailed. “Me not want!”

  “Then you shouldn’t have stuck that awful prick up my ass,” Greta said again, poking the gertling in his chest. “So tomorrow, you’re going to lead me to that mountain. But for tonight, you’re going to lie there, all tied up. Just so we’re clear who’s in charge. Right?”

  The gertling nodded miserably, and Greta huffed, pleased with how things had turned out in the end. As she returned to the fire and began laying out her bed roll, she mused that all things considered, it hadn’t been a terrible evening. After all, she now had a guide, and all it cost her was a quick fuck up the ass by the creature’s tiny cock. Not the best trade, but she prided herself in being able to see the silver lining.

  Which reminded her as she snuggled into the blankets before the fire. She’d have to wash out the creature’s cum in her ass. Tomorrow…

  The Old Mountain

  Greta looked from the map and back to the towering cliffs with a swelling of pride.

  She knew it!

  In the shadow of the bluffs, the weather beaten features of an old man could be seen growing out of the cliffs. A landslide had fairly buried the rest of the body, but the head still poked out of the barren rocks, revealing a beard that reached the chin and a circlet on his head.

  Of course, she could tell because she knew what she was looking for. Ages of wind and rain had worn down the features of the noble figure until only suggestions of those features remained, but it was enough for her to recognize her quarry. And with the way it had been ravaged by years, she likely would have completely missed it were it not for her guide.

  Dinni stood miserably a few feet from her, the goblin rubbing his throat and the shadowy band that wrapped about it.

  “Alright,” Greta said, rolling up the map and tucking it back in her pack. “Let’s go.”

  “Me not want to,” Dinni whined. “Mountain cursed! It cursed, me tell you!”

  “Ah, I see. Alright, so here’s a question. Which would you prefer? The possibility of dying in there. Or…” she said, lifting her hand. “The certainty of dying right here.”

  Dinni gasped, choking as the dark collar around his throat tightened just enough to make things uncomfortable. He wheezed, pawing at his neck. “Me… me go. Me go!”

  “Thought so,” Greta said, releasing the hold.

  Dinni gasped, slumping as he panted. He glared up at her. “Wo-man mean,” he said miserably.

  “Maybe now you’ll think twice before trying to rape someone,” Greta said sharply.

  Dinni bit his lip miserably, kicking up dust as he followed her down the slope of the hill and into the valley below.

  Even the ancient’s roads had not completely survived the years. Foliage closed tightly around them, shadowing their path with thick nettled branches. Grass sprang up between the crooked paving stones, nearly obscuring the path so it felt like she walked through a field. As she walked, the sounds of the forest slowly died away behind her, until they seemed surrounded in a bubble of silence and waiting expectancy.

  She soon reached the end of the trail, and before her opened a great sundering in the cliffs. A fissure like the very mountain had been broken. Dinni whimpered as he scampered after her and between the tall cliffs. Cliffs which seemed, at any moment, as if they could close on them like the jaws of death.

  Greta barely noticed. She felt alive! Light as if she were walking on air. She looked around herself in awe, daylight petering away until it just barely illuminated the dark passage. She halted at the end, and stared in wonder.

  Before her, worked from the very stone of the mountain’s heart, lay a massive doorway. Pillars once lined the way, now toppled and askew. Statues of strange winged serpents crouched on pedestals beside the entrance, cracks marring their once fierce glory.

  For a moment Greta could only stare in awe. Then, she scrambled for the map from her pack and opened it before her with shaking hands. “This is it!” she breathed, grinning stupidly. “This is the Temple of the Final Rest! Haha! I knew it!” she cried, hugging the brittle map against her buxom chest. She spun about in place, giggling in delight. “Oh I knew knew knew it! It had to be here! Come on Dinni. Let’s go!”

  “It cursed!” the gertling whined.

  “Don’t be such a baby. I’m here. We’ll be fine.”

  Dinni moaned in despair as he shuffled after her and towards the towering gateway. Little light reached through that ancient entrance, and with a snap of her fingers Greta conjured a glowing sphere of ethereal light. With it ancient cracked frescoes were revealed, describing a world that Greta had never known existed. Of strange serpentine creatures carved in profile, garbed in flowing robes and flaring headdresses. The images of labouring slaves and strange gods. Of temples that scraped the heavens and fields that sprawled across miles.

  It also revealed bones. Many bones. The skulls of men and monsters which were cast like dice across the cracked tiles, blackened here and there as if immolated in some unspeakable flame. Dinni whimpered again and shuffled closer to Greta, who merely glanced at the gertling but allowed it.

  The chamber they stood within ended suddenly before a towering wall. Before them was a brazier worked in stone, its base a basalt column lined with strange pictographs not even Greta could entirely make out. She squatted down before it, running her finger along the strange script, her lips moving with the words of the ancient tongue.

  Dinni fidgeted nervously, eying the darkness. He jumped when Greta let out a breath and slapped her knees. “Alright,” she said, pushing herself back up to her full height. “I think I got it.”

  “Got what?” Dinni asked.

  “How to get past the first gate.” The gertling yelped something but Greta paid him no more attention. Spreading wide her arms, she threw back her head and began to speak. The language fell clumsily over her human tongue, but she had no doubt the result was bearing fruit. Not when the shadows about them seemed to deepen until the darkness was like a physical thing. Not when the glow of her light flickered, and in the brazier before them long charred bones trembled with the force of magic. The symbols which patterned the base began
to flicker with an unholy light. Greta’s voice rose, reaching a crescendo.

  With a sound like the knell of doom a column of blue flame exploded from the brazier. Dinni screamed in terror as the flames twisted round, coiling like a serpent rising from a pot at the charmer’s songs. Eyes of flame so hot they were white opened in the mass, and a voice that chilled Greta to the bone rumbled forth.

  “Who dares disturb the sanctuary of the masters?”

  Greta lowered her arms, too awed to be afraid. She cleared her throat and touched her chest. “I am Greta Dalia! Duchess of the empire of Istanov! I have come seeking answers.”

  The creature of flame chuckled, coiling in the air above her. “What do I care of such things? You may not pass this gate.”

  “I have to!” Greta said fiercely. “I know you. The guardian of the temple. You will ask me a question before I can proceed. And if I answer, you’ll let me through.”

  “And if you fail,” the thing hissed, tongues of blue fire licking from its maw. “You will be burned to ash, your very soul fed upon. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yes, that’s true,” she said. “But I am not afraid.”

  The serpentine spirit hissed once more. “Then you are a fool, mortal. For even should you pass, there are many dangers before you may reach the lore within this hold. That which my masters sought to protect above all others. Oh yesss,” it hissed, white eyes growing for a moment distant. “I remember it well. Even in the depths of my darkness I felt that magic used.”

  “What was it?” Greta asked quickly.

  The flame rippled as if shaking itself. Or shuddering. “Hm. Well, you will never know. But answer if you can.