Two riders moved along a well-beaten path, amidst old oaks and sycamores, headed deep into the Ricketdown Wood. It was a very old forest, known for it's seasonal fogs, wild pigs which sometimes grew to the size of brown bears, and the mysterious order of nature-loving monks who were it's only permanent residents.

The two riders moved at the center of an ever-shifting pattern of outriders. Draped and hooded as they were in heavy cloaks, the two might easily be mistaken for human. On spying the outriders, one would not make the same mistake. Beyond the fact they were smaller and mounted on large mongrel dogs representative of a vast variety of breeds, they mostly wore nothing on their heads. Thus it was plain to see that the outriders were goblins.

The party had camped the night before on the outskirts of the forest. Waking early, they had been ready to ride at first light. Here and there the path wound between great moss-covered boulders, down into narrow gulleys, or across wide, shallow streams. It was almost four hours later when one of the outriders called out in pidgin Elvish, pointing out the landmark for which they had been told to look.

About five yards off the path, partially overgrown by leafy, creeping vines, was a cairn. It might have been overlooked, taken for a few random stones, if not for the eye-catching chunk of quartz on top. It was the size of a man's head and flecked with glittering pyrite.

The party cut North, leaving the trail. Their intended destination was a temple inhabited by the aforementioned nature-loving monks. It had quite deliberately been built some distance from any of the obvious trails that led throughout the forest. According to their information, it would be no more than half a mile from the gilded cairn to the temple. On open ground it would have been hard to miss, but in a forest, on uneven terrain, it would have been all too easy to follow trail after encircling trail, never managing to gain sight of it.

And the terrain only became more difficult to traverse the further they went. The riders had been told to expect this as well. The monks, adept at working with the plant and animal life of the forest, had nurtured certain vines and undergrowth which grew quite densely in certain spots. They had shifted earth and stones and dead trees to form steep-sided ditches and haphazard barricades. There was an unlikely and increasing density of animal burrows, and the party learned a new level of caution regarding where they trod when a goblin rider dropped through some leaves and twigs to make the acquaintance of a most unimpressed badger.

With a few elegantly hissed curses, one of the cloaked riders called a breif halt. She spoke High Elvish, like reciting some intricate and melodious poem, in a rich mezzo-soprano which under other circumstances might have been quite disarming. Food and water were taken. The mounts were rested. The unfortunate badger-baiting goblin, having suffered one good swipe before escaping, splashed strong wine over the bloody grooves left in one of his scrawny arms, then bandaged the wound.

Mindful of all the impediments, the two cloaked riders trekked the rest of the way on foot, leading their mounts. They moved up a very gradual incline, finally noticing small signs in the form of tracks in the leaf litter, disturbed earth where a midden had been covered over, and a small, crudely carved stag left at the foot of a tree.

As the land more or less flattened out again, the party caught it's first glimpses of their destination. The foundations of the temple were stone – doubtless cut and shaped from boulders found in the forest. The rest of it was built in the style of a log cabin, though a very large one with balconies jutting from a second floor. Some species of climbing vine lined the walls and coiled up over the balconies, embellished here and there with black-star flowers and bunches of crimson berries. In the area around the structure, aside from the scattering of old trees, were fenced in gardens, livestock pens and small outbuildings.

The cloaked riders tied their horses' leads round a tree before approaching too closely. The shorter of the two issued curt orders, again speaking in High Elvish, while gesturing with gloved hands. In response, several of the goblins parted from the group to reconnoiter the perimeter or check the outbuildings. The remainder accompanied the cloaked figures to the front entrance of the temple, where two more were posted with orders to stand watch.

The last three goblin riders followed their cloaked employers, still mounted on their respective mongrels, over the threshold and into a short hallway. Along one wall, pegs at head height were hung with fur cloaks and caps. Lined up on the floor below were pairs of leather slippers with wooden soles.

Pausing, the taller of the two walkers unpinned her cloak and hung it on a free peg. A long single tail of straight black hair fell halfway down her back. The goblins glanced up to regard the half-orc, half-human woman called Rika. She stood almost six feet tall, every inch lean and strong. She wore riding trousers and very practical fur-trimmed boots. On her upper body she wore only a binding of soft, supple leather over her breast, leaving her long, pale green midriff bare. A stout length of knotted rope served her as a belt, from which was slung her weapon of choice – a short single edged sword with a belly toward the point. A chopping weapon.

While her skin tone and physique – as well as slightly elongated lower canines which protruded up past her lower lip – spoke to Rika's Orcish heritage, in many ways she favored her human blood. Her facial features were mostly human, lacking heavy, brutal bone structure. While she sported a great deal of lean muscle, her build was not overly broad or stocky. Moreover, her face, breasts and hips marked her out as decidedly female.

Rika's shorter companion retained her cloak, not even deigning to lower the hood, until they had passed from the hall into a large chamber. There were no windows in the room, and the only light came from beeswax candles which burned on carved stone alters situated against the walls to left and right. In the center of the room was a sturdy oaken table laid with cut flowers and bowls of incense. Directly across the room was another empty doorway, apparently opening onto another hall.

Of more immediate interest were the two figures already present in the chamber. Human, and doubtless resident monks. Off to the right, a short, shaven-headed man sat cross-legged. His eyes were closed and he shifted slightly forward and back, murmuring quietly to himself.

In similarly plain woolen clothes, a woman moved about near the center of the room, sweeping the floor with a straw broom. She was young and attractive, with auburn hair pulled back into twin tails which were bound with crisscrossing twine. Upon spotting her, one of the goblins produced an impressively lascivious hiss of approval.

After which several things happened in a very short span.

Lucianna Tepeshtiri drew back the hood of her cloak, revealing raven hair bound up in an elaborate knotwork of plaites and loose sheafs, fine Elvish features and the pointed ears to match, and skin too alabaster white for even the fairest elf. Her eyes were a brilliant blood red which seemed almost to glow in the dimness of the room.

Noticing the unanounced visitors, the young woman jumped, figuratively, and gave a short, sharp, and literal cry of surprise. Thusly were the meditations of the seated monk disturbed. He looked around in time to see Rika closing the distance between them with an air of purpose. As the man began to rise, before he could fully gain his feet, Rika's left fist hooked in to connect with his jaw. He crumpled and sprawled, limp and unconscious.

Meanwhile, the goblins trotted their mounts into the room. Two moved around the table, one to either side, while the third remained nearby the woman giving the orders on this mission – the Elvish blood-sucker.

"Bind and gag them. You can play with her later. First we find the apothecary and get what we came for." Lucianna ordered.

Before they had a chance to follow them, however, the young woman grasped a leather cord which hung about her neck. She drew from down the front of her top a wooden whistle. Lucianna bared her fangs in a silent snarl as the girl blew three piercing notes.

"Perhaps you could obey my orders now. Before that creature authors invitations to allied persons lying even beyond earshot of that infernal instrument." the vampire spat, falling into common Elvish in her anger.

The goblins followed the girl as she backed toward the doorway behind her. Before they had quite gotten close enough to grab her, the mongrel-riders abruptly reigned in their mounts. Their eyes, looking past her, grew wide. The girl was so surprised and confused that she actually stopped backing away for a moment. Then she felt a large hand settle on her shoulder, and realized why her would-be assailants had paused. The stress of imminent danger then at odds with the sudden feeling of relief made her knees weak.

"Go now, Merris. Tell the Abbot of our unexpected guests. He should instruct the others to stay clear. I will tend to matters here." The figure behind the girl spoke with a voice which was deep, resonant, and yet seductively feminine. She spoke the common tongue of the region with a distinctly far-Northern accent.

"Cowards," Rika barked at the now-quaking goblins, drawing her blade, "I'll cut you muck-grubbing knee biters down on my way to-"

The newcomer stooped, lowering her head, to enter the room. She half turned and gently but firmly propelled the girl, Merris, into the hall behind her. The goblins took this as their cue to wheel their mounts and flee.

The one rider, clinging low to his mount, managed to dart past Rika without suffering the violence she had intended. The rider who had hung back near the vampire turned in time to preceed his compatriot, and both of them surged past Lucianna while she came to grips with the appearance of their opposition.

It was what Southerners called a Northern Troll. Northmen had a different name for them. They were an intelligent race – nothing like the semi-feral beasts called Trolls in the South. They had been given the name only because they seemed to share the regenerative capacity of said beasts.

Beyond that, they were a bit like a mix of humans, elves, and orcs. This one stood at least a full head taller than Rika. In fact, in the same way that Lucianna was built a scale larger than the goblins, and Rika a scale larger than Lucianna, this 'Troll' - lean, strong and attractive – was Rika's body type, scaled up.

Her straight black hair was pulled back, hanging in two arm-thick tails, constrained by bronze rings spaced along their lengths, with a last ring held knotted in the end of either tail. These last rings hung behind the woman's knees. A few loose strands hung from where a pair of unusually curving horns, similar to rams horns, curled out around her head from high on her brow.

The horned beauty was dressed in a manner which was perhaps considered normal amongst her own kind. Not only did she go topless, full breasts bouncing free, but the sum total of her compromise with the social nicities of clothing was a suede leather breechclothe. Here and there her smooth, yellow-ochre skin was tattooed with runes of faded blue.

Given all else, one might excuse the two agents of the Anti-Adventurer's League for failing to make special note of the considerable bulge in the she-troll's breechclothe. Rika, at least, was busy noting that their opposition lacked not only clothing, but weapons of any kind.

Rika decided to retake the initiative, but Lucianna was faster. Her right hand darted out, snake-fast, and caught the last fleeing goblin by the neck. Easily wrenching it from atop it's bounding mount, she took a step forward and threw the astonished would-be deserter bodily.

With deceptively fluid movements, the she-troll swatted the screaming goblinoid projectile one-handed, sending it careening away to strike a wall and fall, silent. For a seasoned fighter like Rika, it was enough to serve as an opening. Lunging, the half-orc brought her blade down in an arc to bite deep into the nearer of the troll woman's thighs. The motion came to a juddering halt when the edge struck bone.

The towering troll turned a scowl toward the half-orc. She did not, however, hesitate a moment in swinging a hammerfisted blow at Rika's head. And she moved faster than anyone that size had a right to. It was only by leaving her sword where it was and twisting her body into a sort of backward barrel-roll that Rika was able to avoid being brained. She had little doubt that if the blow had connected, it would have put her to sleep, if not killed her outright.

Instead of pursuing an attack of opportunity, the troll seized the handle and with a grunt, unceremoniously jerked Rika's blade free of her thigh. A few rivulets of blood trickled down her leg. Despite the depth and breadth of the gash, the blood trails hadn't even reached her knee when the bleeding stopped, the wound already knitting and drawing together. Having kept her eyes moving, she was not taken unawares when Lucianna approached, hopping nimbly onto the table.

The troll swung Rika's sword in a flat arc. The table beneath Lucianna raised her to a comparable height, and the slash came rushing in at chest height. The vampire ducked the swing, then leapt, claws and fangs bared. If she could put out the beast's eyes, perhaps...

It became clear, several dizzy, painful moments later, that she had underestimated the troll woman.

As the sword was still shearing through the course of it's arc, and Lucianna was still shifting forward to leap, the great, bronze skinned guardian spun on one foot. Her other leg lashed out backward, pistoning her heel into Lucianna's chest. The little vampire was launched clear back into the hallway behind, sailing fully fifteen feet before landing in a tumbling tangle of hair, limbs, and fluttering cloak.

When she had righted herself, and the disorientation had passed, Lucianna pushed loose hair back from her face and growled a string of old Elvish curses she hadn't used in decades. Clearly she'd fallen to hubris. Too accustomed to being the strongest person in a room, or the fastest. Usually both. And she certainly wasn't accustomed to fighting anything with a capacity to heal and shrug off wounds comparable to her own.

Shying away from daylight filtering in from the entranceway, Lucianna moved slowly back from whence she'd been launched. She winced as broken ribs and bruised organs repaired themselves. Maybe she should give it up. Offer to leave peacefully. Collect Rika and get the hell out of here. Assuming Rika was still alive.

Rika's voice came to her, as she approached. Entering the room, Lucianna was greeted by a strained cry. It was the half-orc's voice, but it didn't sound quite right. Didn't sound like a cry of pain, exactly.

What she saw in the room made lucianna consider the possibility that her earlier kicking and subsequent crash landing might have scrambled her brain. Or left her unconscious, and this was a most unusual dream.

Rika was on her back on the table, the troll holding her down with one hand on her throat. Her other hand held one of the half-orc's pale green thighs. Neither Rika's clothes, nor the troll's loinclothe were in evidence. Extending from lean ochre loins to hang in the air, casting a shadow at least a foot long on Rika's midsection, was a tremendous, throbbing cock.

"That's it," the apparently hermaphroditic she-troll spoke calmly – almost kindly, "Don't fight. Save your energy, Fierce One. The wicked must be shown the error of their ways. This way is so much better than the others."

Rika gripped the forearm above the troll's restraining hand tightly, but didn't struggle. The troll shifted, the table legs scuffed the floor, and Rika gasped. Lucianna blinked, confused. If the troll's monstrous man-meat was bobbing in the air above Rika's tummy, why was she-

Lucianna took a couple steps closer, unable to resist her curiosity. The she-troll looked up, gave her a small, genuine smile, and drew her hips back. She had to half turn in order to provide herself enough space, but finally a second, twin shaft slid fully free of Rika's stretched and dripping snatch. The usually cool, composed elf goggled dumbly at the vertically stacked pair of pricks. The lower sprung up as it was released, bouncing the upper shaft so that the swollen glans, peaking out of it's foreskin, slapped against the she-trolls tummy. A thin, gleaming strand of Rika's juices stretched between the two rods.

Lucianna swallowed hard. On the table, Rika frowned angrily up, but a dark, bruise-like blush rose in her cheeks.

"I am called Fear-Horner. It means 'Four-horned' in your tongue." the she-troll explained.

Lucianna's eyes darted up to Fear's face for a moment before dragging themselves back down to her almost identical endowments.

"Uh..." In an unprecedented reversal, the vampire found herself enthralled and unable to look away.

The she-troll released Rika's thigh and shifted that hand low to cup a taut sac which might well have looked at home on a bull. From there she grasped her lower shaft loosely and stroked, oh so slowly, causing her foreskin to slide up and curl over the rim of the head before stroking it back down again. The coating of Rika's pussy juices created accompanying squelching and then peeling sounds which seemed very clear and distinct in the now silent room.

Fear raised her hand away from her crotch. When Lucianna's eyes remained glued to her crotch, the troll spoke in a quiet, sultry tone.

"Elf..."

Lucianna looked up. Fear held her first two fingers, sticky now from the juices on her cock, in front of her lips. When she had the little vampire's attention, she slid the two fingers between her full lips to suck them clean. When she had finished, she reached down again and casually gathered both her shafts, barely able to hold them pressed together with her fingertips and thumb.

"You want to be punished too... don't you?" the troll asked, making it sound as if she were uncertain, but hopeful.

Lucianna took a shuddering breath. She let her gaze wander down, over full breasts, washboard tummy, the hints of a small patch of soft black hair, and two purple-red cockheads pressed one above the other. She felt herself roll her lower lip back so that the tips of her fangs grazed the soft, plump flesh. Just then a big fat bead of pre-cum welled up on the tip of Fear's lower member, and Lucianna felt the last of her restraint quickly evaporating.

It was a secret she had never shared with anyone. As a vampire, blood was more than food to her. There was a certain aphrodisiac effect that came with good blood. A certain fetishistic aspect to the idea of bathing in blood, or licking it from another's body. But there was one thing which, for Lucianna, gave a much stronger thrill. The taste, the smell, the feel of it. In her mouth, her other holes, or all over her naked porcelain body. Her one true fetish was for hot, fresh loads of cum.

Better judgment out the window, Lucianna slowly approached. She moved well within arm's reach, but stopped short of lowering herself to indulge her fetish. As she moved closer, the she-troll deftly scooped up the glistening bead of fluid with a fingertip. Fear raised the hand between them, bringing that fingertip painfully close to Lucianna's lips, only to then draw it back.

"Did you wish a taste? You only have to ask."

Watching, Rika raised her eyebrows. Moments ago intent on bloody murder, the Elven vampire was beginning to tremble where she stood.

"Please." Lucianna breathed hungrily after a moment of resistence.

The she-troll smiled as she extended her finger to a point above the Elf's lips, even with her nose. Lucianna slowly tipped her chin up, opening her mouth. Her tongue peaked out and her eyes closed as she finally took Fear's fingertip into her mouth.

Even such a small taste of salty seed sent shivers down her spine and spread a moan-inducing heat down into her loins.

Shifting to prop herself up on one elbow while watching, Rika slid her free hand down to her sopping snatch. A part of her was rabidly intent on avenging herself for this affront, but it was being drowned out by her lust. The horned bitch gave off some sort of animal scent – like some kind of drug that brought on an overwhelming response. She was a little surprised it was effecting her vampiric cohort. Still, despite the anger that smoldered beneath the weight of lust, Rika was getting genuinely turned on now. She ran her fingers down between slick lips still sensitive from the brief fucking the she-troll had already given her.

After savoring for several long moments, Lucianna withdrew, with a firm suck, from Fear's digit. She opened her eyes when she felt large hands close around her upper arms. In something of a dream-like daze, she allowed herself to be moved. A shiver ran through her when her arm bumped the she-troll's twin masts.

"If you kneel below, you can try another taste while I see to your companion." Fear suggested when she had moved the elf to stand between herself and the table.

Lucianna reached out a hand to trail sharp-nailed fingers down over the contours of the she-troll's tummy. Then, without a word, she gracefully knelt and scooted back under the table.

"Mm, shall we continue, Fierce One?"

Fear moved one hand to the base of each of her great shafts. She she stepped closer, aiming the upper organ at Rika's slick lips and waiting hole, she angled the lower to disappear beneath the table.

Rika issued a rumbling purr of anticipation. Muscles flexing, she sat up enough to reach down and curl a hand loosely around Fear's approaching length. She let it glide up the moistened shaft, helping to guide it for easy entry. A most un-warriorly moan escaped her as the she-trolls swollen spear spread her emerald folds. Down below, Lucianna's crimson eyes slowly crossed as the dark, glorious head of Fear's cock inched steadily closer. The idea was now crossing her mind that if she managed to take the whole engorged head in her little mouth, it might prove difficult to get it back out. At least until the swelling went down.

From a deep corner of her depraved side echoed a perverse excitement at the thought. Having her mouth stretched into an 'O'. Feeling the throbbing on her tongue. The tip teasing her tonsils. Being forced to accomodate the nozzle of a figurative firehose hooked up to tremendous reserves of hot spunk.

Parting her lips to kiss the very tip, Lucianna realized that her earlier concern about size was redundant. Her fangs had fully elongated in response to her arousal. And while it was nothing the she-troll couldn't heal, probably taking a pair of fangs to the dick would put a damper on anyone's libido.

Vaguely disappointed, but too enthralled by the member at hand to dwell on it, she used her tongue and lips to taste and tease. Only the distraction of her spunk fetish kept her from biting down as her tongue slithered over the length of the veiny, blood rich rod.

Her ears were soon filled with the creaking of the table. It came apace with Rika's lusty grunts and moans, which in turn matched the rhythm of Fear's deep, steady thrusts. Moving so that the she-troll's shaft passed next to her face, she held her pale hands up to either side and lightly applied her pointed nails to the soft, taut skin.

Inching closer, Lucianna moved her hands to rest on the guardian's thick, muscular thighs. Dipping her head down and leaning in, she got a close look at the she-troll's weighty sack just before it swung forward to thump her square in the face. The vampiress gave an uncharacteristically alarmed exclamation out of sheer surprise. Or she would have, had she not been muffled by the jostling balls in their warm, musky sack.

Fear, meanwhile, bent her knees and drew her hips back far enough to smoothly lift up her lower shaft. In hitching back, she stroked her free hand along her upper shaft, collecting Rika's hot juices. With hardly a pause, she slicked her lower rod with these lubricating fluids while thrusting forth again. It was Rika's turn to loose a guttural exclamation of surprise as Fear plunged into both her holes simultaneously.

While Rika's nails carved furrows in the tabletop above, Lucianna rocked forward and back in time with Fear's increasing pace. She licked up rivulets of Rika's juices as they trickled down onto the she-troll's swaying sack. Deep in her own trance-like lust intoxication, she took no notice of Rika's cries growing louder and more desperate. Nor of Fear speaking up.

"Ah, huh, that's it... Fierce One," the she-troll huffed, her pleasure and exertion finally beginning to tell in her breathing, "Unh, ready yourself... to consummate... your penance."

A few moments later, Lucianna was pulled back a bit from her daze when Fear's monstrous balls rose with her building orgasm. Realizing dimly what was happening, the vampiress tipped her head back. Guessing at the tremendous loads of seed about to be released above, her mouth watered and her sex throbbed. Her crimson eyes widened as she noticed the first perceptible bulge roll up the she-troll's urethra.

With heavy groans akin to the sounds Rika had been making earlier, Fear tensed, breaking her rhythm as she pumped seemingly endless rivers of cum into Rika's helplessly quaking form. Not stopping or relaxing, she instead pulled back and out just as she was coming down from her peak. Her twin straining erections, once released, jumped with each pulse of pleasure, sending streams of salty goo arcing up to splatter down across Rika's trembling emerald breasts and tummy.

Even as she continued drenching Rika in her salty satisfaction, Fear hooked her arms under the she-orc's knees and pulled back a half step.

"Now, Fair One," she managed to half-gasp, "your just desserts."

Lucianna's mouth dropped open as she watched Rika's stretched holes slide out over the edge of the tabletop and into view directly above her. As Fear lowered the angle of her hold slightly, Rika's hips tilted. Her punished holes gaped, her asshole winking but unable to fully close. While Lucianna inhaled deeply, one hand working at her sopping sex, the first hints of an impending deluge appeared, filling Rika's holes.

The waiting vampiress loosed one brief, needful mewling sound before gravity and Rika's roiling musculature coaxed forth two dribbling flows of she-troll semen. Intent on the sight, she only just blinked her eyes shut in time for the intial torrent of cum to cascade down her forehead, painting her eyelids and cheeks.

A little bounce of Fear's powerful frame threw open the figurative floodgates. A waterfall of creampie cum laced with Rika's juices gushed out, running along the crack of Rika's ass to pour down on a panting Lucianna. The stream of hot seed danced over forehead, nose, and down, directly into the pale Elf's open mouth. And as the salty-sweet ambrosia filled her mouth, ran into one nostril, dribbled down her chin and neck, and spattered her clothes, Lucianna's mind blanked completely as she dropped into the most consuming, profound series of orgasms of her life – and undeath.

Whens he finally came around again, Lucianna found that she was sitting on the edge of the table, legs swinging over the side. Where Rika had been previously. The she-troll was gently daubing the cooling coating of cum from her cheeks with a scrap of linen. It seemed her eyes had already been cleaned off. As her wits returned to her, she glanced around.

Fear was again dressed – wearing what little she had worn when first she appeared. Lucianna noticed that there remained only a faint scar-like line to indicate where Rika had earlier chopped into the she-troll's leg. Rika had likewise redressed herself. She stood awkwardly near one corner of the table, arms crossed over her chest, steadfastly refusing to meet anybody's gaze. Lucianna noted her awkward posture, and realized that the half-orc woman must be unbearably sore.

The she-troll pinched the vampiress' pert nose with her cloth, then spat on a corner to clean a bit of glazing from her chin. Lucianna glowered a moment before snatching away the cloth to finish the job herself.

With a kindly smile, Fear backed off and straightened up. Lucianna slipped down to stand, leaning back against the table until she was sure could trust her legs.

"Come again, in peace, some time. I would be most pleased to help you in a more agreeable... less one-sided way." Fear offered.

Lucianna's eyes moved up and down the she-troll's figure, despite her disdainful body language. At length she cleared her throat, gave the faintest hint of a nod, and turned away.

"If you're not going to try to imprison or execute us, we'll be going now. Rika." the vampiress had returned to using High Elvish.

*

On their slow trek back out of the forest, the two agents spoke little. They did, however, manage an agreement to leave out certain events when they reported their failure to Lord Rook. With any luck the mysterious magic-user wouldn't discover their unintended sexual misadventure.

They also decided to report that they were confident they could secure a more preferable outcome, were they to pay another visit to the temple at a later date. Probably a couple of weeks at least, Rika suggested, walking gingerly.