The Warlock & The Wizardess Ch. 12

For a moment, utter silence descended on the cathedral hall. With the intercession of Jadrik on this side of the portal and thanks to the sexual energy that the companions had created through their mind-addling orgy to work as a catalyst for that most powerful, occult and forbidden of spells, Lady Zalahjen's ritual of demonic resurrection had been successful, and the shadow-gathering mist had returned to life the spiritual essence of the Demon Lord that had been killed in those very halls ages prior, bringing his soul back to existence in the material plane. And now, to the collective awe of Jadrik, Shayla, Uli and Laentharyel, that winged ape-like Archdemon was standing on the other side of the planar rift beside Zalahjen, towering over her like a monstrous silhouette, dark as only a hellish shadow could be and ominous in the extreme, even more so because his exact features remained hidden by the immaterial consistence of the semi-physical body he was now inhabiting.

Even from their side of the portal, the companions could feel the power exuding from the freshly resurrected Archdemon's spirit. Despite the sense of accomplishment for the feat of dark magic he had just been a vital part in pulling off, Jadrik himself couldn't help but have a moment of doubt as he wondered whether or not it had been a good idea to help an Archdemoness as devious and powerful as Lady Zalahjen in her inscrutable schemes after all. But the warlock's moment of soul-searching cogitations didn't last long. The sibilant, reedy voice of the reptilian Lady erupted from the portal, her thin lips curling in a menacing, revolting parody of what humans would call a 'smile'.

Gathering close to the warlock, Shayla, Uli and Laeny didn't need any translation to understand the quick exchange between Jadrik and the Archdemoness. Zalahjen was clearly pleased, and she appeared to be congratulating the warlock, who was nodding and replying with cool, almost distant calm. Jadrik's unusually subdued attitude didn't last too long though, only until the Archdemoness pronounced a word that Shayla recognized immediately and that perked up the warlock's interest in a heartbeat. That word was in fact a name: Guur'Gaazl. Being the learned arcane scholar that she was, Shayla knew a lot about Guur'Gaazl, the first warlock, the first mortal to master necromantic magic and learn how to tear the fabric of reality to summon demons from other planes of existence, the legendary orc who managed to unite the scattered tribes of the greenskins into the first Great Horde.

Legends of occult secrets and forbidden knowledge lost to the ages when the world was young and orcs were its undisputed rulers surrounded Guur'Gaazl, so much so that, in modern times, he had become more of a mythical figure than a historical one, at least among the peoples of the Empire. Even among warlocks, the fearsome orc was often viewed merely as a symbolic representation of the ultimate master demonologist, an archetype of what all disciples of the dark arts should aspire to become, an example of the immense power that a warlock can attain, and an admonition against the lethal price that always comes with such power. Indeed, very few modern warlocks and witches believed that Guur'Gaazl ever lived at all, let alone that he had truly accomplished the fantastic achievements listed in the numerous, albeit often apocryphal and fragmentary, epics dedicated to him.

But Jadrik did believe the legend of Guur'Gaazl. He always had, ever since he and Shayla were students. Cynical and skeptical by nature, Jadrik was also extremely curious about all kinds of fringe theories, mythological stories and weird tales in general, and Guur'Gaazl had always been at the top of his personal list of unlikely research topics. Implausible, symbolic and borderline absurd as most of the stories about Guur'Gaazl might be, Jadrik had never dismissed them, always managing to find an element of truth in them, and often more than that. Somehow, as Shayla had learned weeks earlier during their reunion in his study, Jadrik had even managed to recover one of the Lost Tablets of Guur'Gaazl, a tangible, solid piece of real evidence that the first warlock had once lived, which in turn opened up a lot of possibilities about the true nature of his epic deeds.

Given all she knew about Jadrik's interest in Guur'Gaazl, and knowing all too well that demons too had their own lore about the thrice accursed mortal who had discovered and divulged the secrets to summon and enslave them on the material plane, Shayla was particularly surprised to hear Zalahjen mentioning the mythical orc, initiating a conversation which, based on the warlock's body language and excited tone of voice, the wizardess was certain must be revolving around Jadrik's infamous role model and the time-lost occult secrets associated with his legend.

Baffled by that turn of events and suspicious of Zalahjen's choice to bring up Guur'Gaazl of all potential topics of conversation, Shayla watched and listened as intently as possible to the dialogue between Jadrik and the Archdemoness. Still, interested as she was, the wizardess was somewhat woozy after the incredible orgasm-filled fuckfest she had just emerged from, and the fact that she didn't understand a word of ancient daemonic was definitely no help either. Annoyed yet curious, Shayla was furrowing her brows in concentration and doing her best to translate some bits and pieces of that incomprehensible conversation, when a loud commotion behind her suddenly made her turn around and take a look.

On the outer edges of the summoning circle, where succubi and paladins had been fucking all the way through the sex-centric ritual, somebody was yelling indignantly while pushing and shoving in an attempt to pass through the cluster of entangled demonesses and humans. A groan of exasperation escaped Shayla's lips as she recognized Aldarius as the source of the confusion among the relentlessly fornicating couples and threesomes and foursomes assembled outside the summoning circle.

"Let me through, you degenerates! I've had enough of this vulgar display of perversity! Justice and righteousness will prevail, whatever it takes!"

"Oh, dear Gods... This is just sad..." Shayla sighed shaking her head and rolling her eyes as she watched a few naked paladins and a score of succubi suddenly stop their recreational activities to stand up and block the angry knight's path.

Albeit clearly underfed, the naked paladins who stepped up were all more muscular and imposing-looking than Aldarius, whose blood-spattered armor and bruised, repeatedly punched face did nothing to intimidate the succubi either, their devotion to Jadrik compelling them to obey his previous order not to let anyone step over the glyph-patterned lines of bone dust that encircled the summoning area. Outnumbered and outmatched, Aldarius still retained his belligerent attitude even when Max intervened, disentangling himself from the couple of purring succubi who had been treating him to a skillful cum-coaxing double blowjob.

"By the Light, Van Holt... Will you just stop making trouble already?" Max exhaled with tired annoyance, his saliva-dripping boner flexing as if trying to signal its own frustration at being deprived of the two demoness's mouths that had been so skillfully pleasing it so far.

"Don't you dare mention the Light to me, Mensen!" Aldarius spat back, his mouth contorting in disgust as his scornful glare ran from the bald leader of the knights to the rest of the naked paladins assembled to stop him. "You filthy demon-loving apostates, I'll see justice brought down upon the lot of you! But first I must eradicate this corruption at the root and dispose of the blasphemous warlock who damned you all to an eternity of torment for the sins you let yourself be seduced into committing!"

As Aldarius tried to peek past the wall of paladins and succubi to set eyes on Jadrik, Max sighed again, even deeper than before. After pressing his fingertips to his temples in a gesture of ultimate frustration, the bald knight leaned closer to his raging comrade, speaking in a low voice that didn't lack a certain degree of sympathy to it.

"Listen, Van Holt: I get, I do. That guy stole away your hot fiance, and now you won't become a noble anymore, and all your stupid dreams of wealth and prestige are in pieces and you're angry and all that kind of depressing stuff... I understand, man, really. You hate the guy and you wanna kill him, that's fair. But let's face it: you're no match for him, not even close. Did you see what he just did, that sex-demon-shadow magic he just cast right there? It was dark and evil, sure, but powerful too. Very powerful," Max said, trailing off for a moment, genuinely impressed by Jadrik's mastery of demonic magic. Then, shrugging, the bald paladin resumed: "Besides, she doesn't love you, man. She loves him, it's obvious. They're kinda cute together too, in a fucked up way. They're certainly well-matched at least, more than you would be with her. I mean, she's totally out of your league, man, and not just because she's from a noble family and all that. Just look at her, and then look at yourself... Frankly, I don't see how she could have ever gone for you in the first place. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume that she was in a pretty bad place in her life when you two got together, wasn't she?"

Gritting his teeth as Max nodded sagely to himself while essentially insulting him with his every word, Aldarius clenched his armored fists and trembled with righteous rage as he snarled: "Let me through, Mensen. Let me through! I'm gonna kill that heretic warlock right now, and I'll dispose of anyone who tries to stop me!"

Exhaling and rolling his eyes, Max was scratching his beard as he looked for the right words to explain to Aldarius once again that it was over, that Shayla was not coming back to him and that Jadrik wasn't to blame and in fact had kept his word about solving their issues with the succubi invasion of the Catacombs. But before the leader of the paladins could start speaking, the warlock's voice resounded in the cathedral hall.

"Let him through, Max. If he wants to kill me, he's welcome to try. Girls," Jadrik said, looking over the array of succubi hanging on his every word, "help Al get into the circle without breaking the lines, please. Also, come here and help your broodmother up, and see that she rests and recuperates. She's had a very busy day... Okay, Al," the warlock went on, focusing his gaze on the angry paladin,"let's sort this out once and for all, alright? Man to man, honorable combat and all that type of stuff, the way you silly knights like."

Blindsided by Jadrik's invitation and by the nonchalant confidence in his tone, Aldarius was blinking in surprise when he felt a dozen hands grabbing him and pulling him off his feet. A few screeching yelps that didn't quite convey indignation as much as girlishness were all the paladin managed to let out as the succubi raised him bodily off the ground, carried him a few feet forward and threw him unceremoniously across the magical sigils and lines drawn on the floor, causing him to land with a crash of armor inside the summoning circle without breaking the containment pattern.

Lying flat on the hard marbled floor, stunned by the violent and sudden impact, Aldarius heard giggles all around him. As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw a few hell-girls scampering around him and heading for the altar, where they helped their indigo-skinned leader up to her cloven feet and carried her barely conscious form outside the magic circle, showing much more grace and delicacy than they had just reserved for him. As they disappeared out of his field of vision, the succubi kept chitchatting in their infernal language, their husky voices intermingled with teasing titters and bursts of laughter, which Aldarius was sure must be at his very expense.

Roaring with anger but also groaning with the pain caused by his hard landing on the stony floor, Aldarius scrambled up to his knees, bristling with indignation, only to find himself facing Uli. Fully naked, brandishing his huge and blatantly deadly battle axe, the dwarf was positioned right in front of Aldarius, his short legs parted and his whole squat, massively muscular body poised in a battle stance that was so well practiced as to have become second nature to the warrior. Uli's gray eyes were cold and unblinking as he stared at the fuming paladin with fixed intensity for a few second, before grumbling out with lethal calm: "Don't ye try anything daft now, lad. If ye're thinking about a suicidal last play, like breaking them magic lines over there and getting us all killed, ye better think again."

As his baleful words hung in the air, Uli raised his weapon in an unequivocally menacing gesture that somehow felt even more threatening for being delivered by the warrior while he wore nothing, his fat dwarven dick hanging heavily between his powerful legs, the imposing braids of his red beard dangling on his large muscular chest, his huge biceps bulging and rippling, ready and seemingly very eager to swing his giant axe and execute Aldarius in one quick, brutal chopping strike.

Slowly getting to his feet while dusting himself off, Aldarius willed himself to meet Uli's stony glare and not flinch, but he failed. It didn't even matter that now, standing to his full height, the paladin towered over the short boulder-thick dwarf: the raw power exuding from the naked warrior, the grim lethality he incarnated and his sheer intimidating presence easily forced Aldarius to lower his gaze down and turn his head the other way as he moved past Uli, heading toward his hated intended target.

Standing with his back to the altar, with Shayla to his right side and Laentharyel to his left, Jadrik had his signature grin stamped on his lips as he watched the fuming, humiliated paladin walk closer. It wasn't lost on the warlock that Aldarius took a long glance at Laeny and Shayla, his eyes lingering on the two naked and seed-glazed beauties' curves and faces before his furious gaze once again focused on Jadrik, the paladin's expression of pure hatred and blind anger now appearing even more savage, as if the sight of Laeny's and especially Shayla's nakedness had stoked his ire to the extreme. Amused by the knight's impotent wrath and not in the least concerned by his obvious murderous intentions, the warlock kept smirking as he calmly invited Shayla and Laeny to go join Uli, leaving him to deal with Aldarius alone.

"So, here we are, Al. Just you and I," Jadrik said as the paladin stood in front of him, just a couple of feet away. Turning to the side, Aldarius snarled and glared daggers at Shayla as she strutted past him, her huge tits and plump ass jiggling beautifully, her deep blue eyes sparing her former fiance just a quick, dismissive glance of disdain. As soon as Shayla had moved away and Aldarius was focused on him again, Jadrik resumed speaking, an almost bored edge in his calm voice. "Right then, let's get this over and done with already. One on one, face to face. A fair fight, like gentlemen. I won't use magic and you can't use weapons. A good old fashion duel, with just our bare hands and the strength of our convictions. What do you say, Al? Wanna try your luck at smashing my face instead of getting yours beaten to a pulp for a change?"

Despite his attitude of careless apathy, a note of mocking scorn had grown more and more obvious in Jadrik's words as he spoke, causing Aldarius's blood to boil. He hated the warlock. He had been shamelessly disrespectful to his faith, he had mocked his Order and derided his calling as a paladin. He had stolen away his fiance, seducing her and corrupting her and ruining her, and finally involving her in an abominable demonic ritual. And, to make everything even worse, the warlock had tainted his fellow knights too, twisting their minds to the point that now they, his own sworn brothers of the Golden Shield, the very people who should be on his side, were instead regarding Jadrik as some sort of hero!

That was unacceptable to Aldarius. It was just too much. Something must be done, some semblance of justice and righteousness and order must be brought back to that sinful, insane, evil mess of a situation. And it all came down to dealing with the prime cause of it all: Jadrik. He had to die.

Growling, gritting his teeth and clenching his armored fists as he incinerated the naked, smirking warlock with an unblinking gaze of hatred, Aldarius cracked a maniacal grin and spat: "Prepare to die, monster. In the name of the Gods of Light, I'll kill you and rid the world of your evil and perversity, if it's the last thing I do."

Nodding and shrugging his shoulders, Jadrik smiled as he said: "Sure, absolutely. Are we agreed on the rules, then? No magic and no weapons? And that includes that silly little shield you've got strapped on your back and that cute little ornamental mace hanging from your belt. Aw, look at that, so shiny and pretty! Not that it would be much of a weapon even if you wanted to..."

Roaring with barely contained fury, staring wide-eyed at the chuckling, irreverently joyful warlock, Aldarius barked back: "I will respect the rules, monster. But how do I know you will? You're a liar and a cheat. Your word means nothing."

"Fair enough, I guess you could say that," Jadrik conceded with a grin, leaning back to rest his elbows on the altar behind him and assuming a pensive pose. "Honor was never my thing, you know..."

Resting back like that, Jadrik didn't just open up Aldarius's line of sight toward the shimmering portal, allowing the paladin a better view of the drake-featured Lady Zalahjen and of the freshly resurrected, hulking shadow of the Archdemon standing by her side; the warlock's carefree pose also had the effect of forcing the angry paladin to take in Jadrik's big, chubby dong dangling heavily between his legs, thus remind Aldarius once again of the unspeakable things that the warlock had done with Shayla.

Even as the armored knight's ire spiked up to new heights, Jadrik emerged from his thoughts and resumed speaking. "Tell you what, Al: I swear on Shayla's life that I won't use my magic. That should be enough of a guarantee, right?"

Jadrik's declaration caught Aldarius by surprise. As treacherous a the warlock certainly was, the paladin knew that Jadrik would never joke about something as important as Shayla's life. Even through his rage and jealousy, Aldarius had to admit that yes, indeed the warlock did truly care about the wizardess, a fact that in turn made his oath valid and acceptable.

Grunting his assent, Aldarius nodded at Jadrik and rose his armored fists, ready to fight. "On your guard, monster. Time to taste justice."

Sighing and shaking his head, Jadrik stood straight up once again, facing Aldarius. Sparing the paladin's heavy plate gauntlets just a quick glance, the naked warlock arched his eyebrows and snickered as he locked gazes with Aldarius. "Your catchphrases suck, Al. Go ahead, I'll let you throw the first punch, just because I'm a nice guy and I can tell you need a win. I mean, being the total loser that you are, you of all people really, really need a win right now..."

Those casual disparaging words and the image of the warlock's smug smirking face were all it took to trigger the ultimate explosion of Aldarius's righteous anger. The paladin's vision narrowed to exclude everything except Jadrik's derisive sneer while his mind went bank of all thoughts that weren't ones of vengeance and wrath and retribution. Instantly, without even knowing it, Aldarius found himself yelling out at the top of his voice and lunging forward, his right fist shooting ahead, aimed straight at the grinning face of his insufferable, irredeemably evil nemesis.