Everwynd Knights - A New Tale

(Author's note: This is a story of erotic fiction, obviously.  It was also a commission by Aquagrunt, which I greatly appreciate.)

Taylor St. Cloud allowed the monks of the Order of Psytheros to carefully adjust the legs of the plate mail armor they had enchanted on her behalf.  She tucked the red braids running down her spine into a small bonnet, tying it near the back of her neck as to not let it get caught by the helmet that would soon be placed on her head.  The armor was more designed for a man, but, given her tomboyish body and her toned physique, and the hordes of undead she was about to slog through, better plate mail than studded leather or chainmail when she would be in the front.  She would normally request a team for this sort of mission, but the holy protections granted by her armor and, more specifically her helmet, only protected her. Even then, it had taken some convincing to be allowed a trained archer to accompany her.  Her archer had her own protection.

“This is a bad idea,” Tamara said for the fifth time.  The dark-haired girl fidgeted in her chainmail. “Are you sure a frontal assault is the right idea?”

“It’s the only one we’ve got,” Taylor replied, for the briefest moment envying Tamara’s curves.  There was no one she trusted more to be at her side. “We need to clear out what’s there before it gets to Bremer.  With you watching my back, we might stand a chance.”

As Taylor looked out the window, at the setting sun, she whispered a prayer to Orikko, to let light guide her path against the darkness. A paladin of his order, the first woman, in fact, in centuries, she was honor bound to take the necromancer down by whatever means necessary.  She felt bad for him, honestly, knowing the path he led was due to a grave injustice which had been done to him, but it didn’t give him any right to bring back the dead to slaughter the living. Such heresy was not to be tolerated and the necromancer, Xythos, was to be shucked from his hopefully mortal coil.

As the monks settled the plate mail against her chest and buckled the sides of the plate mail into place, Taylor felt an inner calm fill her.  Her mind could not be swayed from her task, not by any fear spell, nor by any aura of domination the necromancer may cast, not by anything. So long as the plate mail held, Taylor knew that she was safe both from the teeth and claws of the undead, as well as the magic of dark sorcery that Xythos was rumored to possess.  Tamara, with her latent sorcery abilities, should be able to stop Xythos if he tried to affect her.

“I hope,” Taylor thought.  She gestured for Tamara to lead the way as she settled the helm over her head.  

Tamara sighed and handed Taylor her shield.  “Least number of kills pays the bar tab when we get back,” Tamara said, trying to put on a brave face.

Nodding, Taylor slid her sword into her scabbard and looped her mace at her waist.

As the pair walked through the city gates, the sun set below the hills wherein the necromancer’s tower was waiting.  Before it lay countless undead. Mounting their steeds, the pair charged down the path to confront their destiny. There were only two outcomes that Taylor could see ahead of her and she refused to give thought to defeat.  “Orikko be praised,” Taylor prayed, “may my sword be swift, my strength unwavering, and my will be without end. May Tamara’s bow ever strike true. For the city of Bremer, I swear this oath to end the blight of Xythos, once and for all.”

The undead rose to greet them as they only knew how: ambling moans of tortured spirits seeking to devour the flesh of the living.  Their steeds had been sent back after they had cleared the tiny village of Mota. Tamara had paused only long enough to do so while Taylor set fire to the corpses, hoping their souls would find peace in Kyrnian’s purifying flames.

As the two headed up the hill leading to where Xythos’s tower, Tamara began to curse.  “Problem?” Taylor asked.

“I should’ve brought more than two quivers of arrows,” Tamara replied, slipping her bow into her quiver before drawing her long sword.  “Part the way and I’ll cut down what you miss.”

“I’m ahead by six,” Taylor replied as she smashed her mace into a skeleton’s head, the animated corpse crumbling.

“Less talking, more undead slaying please,” Tamara answered as her sword glowed and struck into the zombie to Taylor’s right.  Taylor laughed. 

The skeletal archers and the two-headed zombie that guarded the entrance to the tower were a bit of a shock but, between the two of them, they managed to take the necromancer’s forces out with Tamara only suffering a flesh wound to her leg.  The remaining arrows did allow her to restock. The growling from above them did not bode well. Looking up the steps, Tamara was more than a little annoyed. “He just had to catch my leg,” she muttered as the two began to ascend.

“On the bright side, more shooty, less stabby,” Taylor said, her sword slicing through a zombie dog while Tamara shot at the one that had leaped at them from across the room.   

The archway to the Necromancer’s sanctum was open, purple light flooding from it.  “Ready?” Tamara asked. 

Taylor nodded.  “Stay back and wait for my signal,” she said, stepping into the archway, her armored body shielding Tamara from sight by anyone in the room ahead. 

Taylor St. Cloud looked at the room in front her.  While she was relieved that behind her lay a swath of holy destruction of the necromancer’s forces, she knew that her and Tamara’s mission was incomplete.  Now came the real threat. Xythos had been a bane on the city of Bremer for a year and she and her order had been tasked with ending the necromancer once and for all.  She again regretted the necessity of plate mail as it impeded her movements, but, with this many undead, and her lack of skill with bow or spell, it was the only viable option. It also made her a better target than Tamara who would be less able to protect herself at this point.

She barely had time to dodge the necromantic blast that surged her way, feeling its icy chill in the metal to her side.  She gave the quickest of glances back at Tamara to ensure her friend was safe before moving closer, noting the necromancer was in his spell circle.  She was going to have to break that. Charging forward, crying forth holy energy, she slashed at the magic ring, shattering it but leaving herself wide open in the process.  She didn’t see the staff coming, nor was able to dodge when he knocked her helmet clean from her suit. The sound of laughter that followed stunned her.

“They sent women to face me,” Xythos cackled, raising his staff over his scarred head.  The man had been beautiful once. Now, vicious burn scars had taken half his face. His eyes were cold and cruel, glowing faintly of purple necromantic energies only ever summoned by the most depraved lunatics.  “You were better off back in your monastery.”

Taylor’s gripped her sword and shield.  “I’m more than man enough to kill you, fiend.”  She raised her sword to swing, only to be blasted with a spell.  Tamara cried out in alarm, firing an arrow which the necromancer parried away, dark energies rotting the wooden shaft in an instant before he sent a second blast at Tamara, catching her as well.

“Man enough?” Xythos laughed.  “Not hardly. Let me prove it to you both.”

Pushing herself to her feet, Taylor’s breathing became constricted, her back pained.  “I will end you,” she gasped, staggering forward. She heard the creak of the buckles which held her armor together at her sides, felt how stiff her legs had become, as if her armor was squeezing tightly around her hips and thighs.

“You will end up on your knees,” Xythos said, his face a smug, twisted smile as he blasted her again, “praying to the only god that matters here.  Not your holy mother, Psytheros, not the pale sun god Orikko. Me.”

“What did you to us?” Tamara gasped.  Her bracers protected her from necromantic bursts, but whatever the fiend used it, it was not what either had expected.  She stared in horror as her chainmail became a chained collar, attaching itself to a wall.

“You didn’t think that I’d only learned necromancy, did you?” Xythos sneered.  “I’ve tried every spell I could to fix my face, but none worked. Some curses are too strong to overcome.  Even by other curses, you stupid cow.”

Taylor’s eyes widened as Tamara's breasts swelled forward, shredding her tunic as her once melonous breasts grew to the size of pumpkins.  Tamara dropped her bow and clutched at her chest as milk began to leak from her strawberry sized nipples. Were the situation any different and her vows not so rigidly held, Taylor would’ve found the site appealing.  Now it simply steeled her resolve to end Xythos. If only they both had been more careful.

Taylor gasped again as the tightness increased again.  With a loud ping, the buckles holding the front and back of her armor together broke, the metal plate falling forward, exposing her tunic covered breasts that were now overfull.  Her breasts were large and protruding like two pumpkins and rivaling Tamara’s now burgeoning bosom, both barely constrained inside her too tight tunic, the seams of which strained with each breath Taylor took.  Were that not indignity enough, the wave of lust that coursed through her body was enough to make her want to get her hands on a different type of sword.

The pain in her legs did, in fact, cause her to drop to her knees, the force of which caused the buckles on the lower plates to pop free as well.  Her once lithe thighs were now supple, her hips curved outward where they once were boyishly flat. She wanted to wail at the injustice but, as she gazed down her body, at her still growing tits, part of her snapped.  Part of her had always wanted to be womanly, shapely, but, in her zealousness to train, her body had taken a sharper profile. Now, though…

As she stared at Xythos, his meaty cock a bulge in his trousers, she licked her lips.  While the creature in front of her sickened her, part of her, so held back by the celibacy she’d placed on herself, wanted him.  With a carnal growl, Taylor dropped her sword, flung her gauntlets away and crawled forward, the seams of her tunic popping until the front hung free, more a smock covering her breasts, preventing her now strawberry sized nipples from rubbing against the cold stone floor.  Her breasts drug along, as wide as her elbow to her shoulder and still growing.

“Fight it,” Tamara cried, only to find a cow-shaped muzzle wrapped around her face.

Xythos smiled as he reached into his trousers and fished out his shaft.  He kept his wand in his left hand, ready to cast at a moment’s notice. “This is what you want now, isn’t it?” Xythos asked, stroking his cock slowly.  He watched as Taylor’s eyes followed his hand. She leaned back as she reached him, her breasts mashing against Xythos’s knees, her still swelling bubble butt pressing against her lower legs.  She could feel how wet she was, as the cool floor was too near to her hot pussy.

Licking her lips, she took him in her mouth to taste him.  He was sinful. In her mind, she noticed that, for a necromancer, his body was well toned and well-muscled.  Part of her was disgusted by him and what she was doing went against her paladin’s training and ethos. The more she thought about it, the more she believed it had to be part of the spell he cast and began to accept what she was doing.  Surely, she’d be forgiven this trespass, given the circumstances.

When he pulled back, Taylor whimpered in frustration.  She wanted his cock. She was about to beg when he pushed her back.  Unbalanced by her massive breasts, Taylor ended up on her now wider rear, her legs spread and welcoming, her breasts parted to each side of her chest.  She knew she should resist, but, instead, moaned a lustful “fuck me” as Xythos kneeled. His shaft rubbed against her wet slit before sliding deep inside her.

Tamara’s muffled cries filled Taylor’s ears, but she knew what she needed to do.  Bucking her hips, she urged Xythos on. “More! Give it to me! Cum inside me!” Taylor cried as Xythos’s pace quickened.  “Mark me with your seed. Claim me.” 

It was more than the necromancer could bear.  His cock throbbed as he pressed against her, his cum filling her.  As his release came, Taylor smiled.

Panting, she pushed herself back and carefully made her way to her feet.  Taylor’s hand, having been behind her, propping her up as Xythos fucked her, had found Tamara’s sword.  Twisting her body, the sword swung down at the exhausted necromancer, whose eyes widened briefly, realizing his peril, that she had tricked him.

His head separated from his shoulders.

The conjuration around Tamara’s mouth and neck faded instantly and their bodies began to reduce in size, though, to Tamara’s delight, not fully.  Carefully making makeshift clothing from the remains of their outfits, the two quickly scoured the room for anything to wear, finding nothing. Making their way to the balcony, they smiled, seeing for themselves that the undead legion had fallen.

“Think we should tell anyone what really happened?”  Tamara asked, taking her sword from Taylor and wiping it clean.  

Taylor grabbed her own blade and shook her head.  “Not until after you pay my bar tab.” The two laughed and made their way down the tower stairs.  There would be plenty to explain. Later.