The Byzantia Quest

by Krazyorange

Chapters links: I II III IV

Chapter I

What daylight remained was not to be wasted. There were three of us, myself - the Arabian Knight-style fighter with a rapier and a bastard sword and an keen eye for trouble and the kinkiest of women, Faraday Daniels - my best mate since birth who has an equal eye for danger and no sense in limits, and his fiancé Nagassa, who was the most stunning female I have ever laid eyes upon; her body was a gift from God; her breasts had been meticulously carved from divine breastmeat and topped off with the most exquisite nipples in all of Byzantia. Comparisons aside, she was gorgeous, although with blood spattered across her body, not so much now.

I plunged through the first several with my bastard sword while cutting their neighbors' heads clean off with my requisite rapier, transforming the nearby air into a stunning mist of gore. Faraday brushed off the attackers to his side of the caravan, easily dispatching several dozen with his twin bastard swords (which he claimed were such while myself and the entire community viewed them as oversized claymores). Nagassa trained her bow with uncanny speed and accuracy at jugulars from fifty yards off a sprinting horse, sliding in and out of the surrounding trees and picking them off at ridiculous paces.

Having squandered our fortunes at the seaside town of Gyildale, our band was low on fortunes until crossing paths with an unfortunate boy whose mage father was dying. He passed to us a prophecy which we threw off as nonsense until it began to materialize - we were to journey to Byzantium, the most amazing city on all the planet and find a princess of unparalleled beauty who would save the world. Whatever the fuck that meant.

We continued on our jaunt across the coast, pillaging, raping, and causing as much mayhem as possible before completely running out of funds and funds to steal. It was then we began our quest inland to Byzantium.

"And a fucking good quest at that," whooped Faraday, slaughtering the last of the marauders with ease. He bent to clean his giblet-drenched sword on the soaked green grass, then sheathed both monstrosities in equally-proportioned scabbards.

"That was easy," I stated, following suit while Nagassa began to collect those arrows she deemed reusable.

The captain of the caravan, a rather portly fellow by the name of Seymor Hartbos, ventured from under the closest wagon.

"I pray tell that won't happen again," he said with arrogance. Now myself and Faraday do not take well to arrogant portly bastards, and it was all we could do to keep from beheading the five-foot fuck.

"Clearly not," I said, winking at Faraday.

Seymor brushed some stray grass and an eyeball from his tunic before perching himself atop the driving seat. "We may move on."

"I'm glad I have your fucking permission, you pig," grunted Faraday.

"What was that, brute?"

"Fuck you," he spat, unsheathing his sword and lopping Seymor's head off, producing a hilarious fountain of blood as his tongue slid backwards and out his neck.

"Fuck!" I shouted, kicking the head in mid-arc out of frustration. Trust me - this was not the first of these occurrences.

Faraday recleaned his sword an replaced it by his side. "The bastard had it coming. I have no regrets."

Nagassa returned from her arrow-gathering tour and stopped when she eyed Seymor's head staring back at her. She glared at Faraday with that 'I'm pissed but I won't kill you right now' look. Then she chuckled.

"He had it coming, the bastard."

The rest of the caravan attendees came from their various spots of hiding and gathered around the two parts of Seymor more from confusion and lack of something other to do than pity - Seymor was a hated man in these parts.

"Back to Oakdale for another job, you ape," I said, kicking the head again, this time brilliantly as I topped one of the nearby sycamores and got the head to stick on a branch, draining blood down the dilapidated bark. "And that was an amazing kick. Holy fuck was that brilliant!"

Back in Oakdale, a mere twenty minute slow-pace walk from the scene of so much chaos, we returned to "Ye Olde Tavern - Oakdale" in search of someone to purchase a shitload of spices, which we were entrusted to escort in the first place.

I went to the bar, where the barkeep was a personal friend. I leaned in close, beckoning Leonard to stoop. "Do you know of any spice traders in the immediate vicinity?"

Leonard nodded, gesturing to a man in the corner who was furiously puffing on a long slender pipe, making that entire side of the tavern an ordeal to maneuver. I, of course, maneuvered it with ease.

"Looking to buy some spices?" I said, sitting myself across from the man, who appeared gaunt.

"No."

"I have a shitload and, honestly, I don't need it."

"Fuck yourself."

"Five thousand gold pieces for ten wagons full - that's about six million less than they're worth in Byzantium."

"I'm not a trader, go away," said the man, raising his head for the first time and allowing me to see his face - that of a middle-aged, full-featured warrior - not the gaunt stature I had previously envisioned - clearly, the pipe contained more than tobacco.

"Do you want cheap spices then?" I pressed.

"No, you insolent fuck, what I do want is you to do a little something for me." He reached into the pocket of his cloak, but stopping before retrieving whatever it was. "It may be hazardous to your physical being, however."

At this point, sheer curiosity overpowered my six-foot-eight frame. "I think I can handle it."

His hand came free and set upon the table an orb of crystalline structure albeit evident magical properties. "This," he began, "is the Tal Rasa Orb." He paused, as if waiting for a gasp, and when none came he continued. "Forged in the Undervallies of Byzantium six hundred years ago, it is told that the God of Power, Tal Rasa, was defeated by a young barbarian. Before all of Tal Rasa's power diminished and he was cast out of the ethereal realm, he forged this orb and sent his being into it, henceforth producing the most powerful amulet the world has ever laid hands upon." He stopped, drew on his pipe, which rolled his eyes into his head, and continued on. "But this isn't mine. I thieved it from a traveling mage around fifty miles west of Byzantium, which is four hundred miles east from where we sit now. He unleashed a demon upon me, and I cannot shake it. But it is not an ethereal demon; this is a human Hunter, one of the seven which were born from Tal Rasa's abdomen - a superhuman whose very bodily structure is evil. I need you to dispatch the demon so I can study this orb and banish Tal Rasa for all time." He again puffed on his pipe.

"How much will I get paid?" I said, not giving one shit nugget about the story - I needed money to get to Byzantium so I could fornicate with this princess of unimaginable beauty.

"Twenty thousand gold pieces, but-"

"Done," I exclaimed, extending my hand to seal the deal.

"-the demon is female. Her name is Narxity and she is one of the most stunning females you will ever see."

"Great, so I'll fuck her first, then kill her," I said, shrugging off that fact as just another excuse to have intercourse.

"If you procreate with this demon, she will taint your soul and you will become the eighth Hunter. Narxity was the first Hunter; she has spawned all the others through her sexuality."

"Trust me," I said, calling over a waitress for a flagon of beer, "my soul is so far past fucked, if we did it, it would probably improve my standings on the ethereal side of things. And for the record, I can hold my own with demon sluts."

The man nodded. "Fair enough. Here is my contact name and where to find me. Narxity was only a few hours behind me, so she should reach Oakvale by nightfall." And with that, the man, who I learned was entitled Graves by reading the parchment, rose, puffed his pipe before setting it on the table beside of bag of foul-smelling brown leaves, and vanished in a cloud of blue smoke.

"Holy shit," I muttered to myself, "that guy is flying in and out of places fucked out of his mind!" I shook that thought off and chugged the flagon of cold, deliciously-golden liquid in two gulps - not one because I stopped to concentrate of the waitresses boobs and lost focus. I slammed the carafe down and rose, moving to where Faraday and Nagassa were clearly ready to take the party to a room, more than likely the outhouse.

"We've got a job," I interrupted.

"Goddamn it, can you not see we're-"

"-busy, I know, but fuck it later. We've got us a twenty thousand gold piece job."

The two separated, or more like, Faraday's hand detached itself from Nagassa's left boob (a good choice, might I add). Faraday made good use of that hand quickly, grabbing a flagon from a passing waitress' plate and downing it.

"What's the job?" he queried following a raucous belch.

I turned the other way to avoid the wave of stench. "Kill Narxity."

"Who the fuck is that?" questioned Nagassa, likewise turned to dodge the onslaught of reek.

"I chatted with this mage chap over in the corner and he said some shit about some shit, I wasn't really paying attention, and how a human Hunter was following him named Narxity. We can't fuck her, but we need to kill her, then go to Hollowpoint to get our twenty gs." I downed a shot of whiskey in the process.

Faraday nodded. "Fair enough. Where do we find this bitch?"

"She was chasing this fellow, and he said she would be here around nightfall." I looked out the window and was stunned to see blackness had already overtaken day. "Shit."

It was at that precise moment the door to the tavern opened and an eerie chill crept in, blowing out a good half dozen of the table candles and prompting every patron to turn and wonder 'what the fuck just happened?'

It was unmistakably Narxity; she was clothed in what appeared to be black leather belts arrayed across the good parts and complimented by strips of blood-red mesh cloth. On her hips swung dark blue bands of aged leather, and on each side were small daggers, more likely than not enchanted. And the mage was correct; she was amazingly attractive and I wanted nothing more than to get inside her. But, the mission called.

What should have transpired is thus: While she was preoccupied at closing the door, making a proper entrance, and declining the offers of sex, we would have tactically and stealthily surrounded her, then inquired about her name. At the precise moment, a signal would be given and, if it was Narxity, we would all three strike, myself and Faraday slicing with out swords and Nagassa assuring maximum damage with her bow.

However, myself and Faraday being barbarians and therefore prone to take the moth of maximum violence, we unsheathed our weaponry and rushed forward, clamoring over and around tables, plowing through patrons and towards Narxity. We could hear Nagassa screaming "Fucking barbarians!" but we were too far into our attack to abort.

The woman, clearly at this point Narxity, spun left to avoid our stampede, then withdrew the daggers and threw one at each of our backs. Naturally, as barbarians, the damage was that of a pin prick or bent toenail. Narxity didn't show surprise and instead hurled a fireball at Faraday as we righted ourselves and began once again to charge - which, besides fear, was our primary tactical weapon.

The fireball, while looking impressive, caused no more than minor burns and we were both able to catch the Hunter as she attempted another dodge move. Nagassa had her pinned from behind, causing her that one instant of indecision, which allowed us to swing our dual tandems, one at quarter intervals on her body. She successfully avoided Faraday's head and hip swings, but my mid-torso and kneecap attacks were unavoidable, coming in at the angle of her avoidance.

Blood squirted from her abdomen and legs, and the damage to her knees caused her to collapse to the ground. Unfortunately, Nagassa had fired right as Narxity fell, putting that arrow into my shoulder.

"Goddamn it, Nagassa, you stupid whore!" I roared as the blood began to erupt. "I fucking had the bitch!" I ripped the arrow, which was "V" shaped and rather lodged-in, from the muscle and hurled it in no particular direction, which happened to be precisely where one of the waitresses was standing, piercing her in the leg. "Fuck!" I shouted.

Narxity laid there motionless while we surrounded her with weapons at the ready. The tavern guests curiously surrounded us with expressions of perplexity, except the bartender, who was being attended to by Leonard. I gave her a wink and she smiled. She had big boobs.

And then she struck. At first, I thought she'd merely scratched my leg, which would have made no sense, and then I felt something graze my bone. And it fucking hurt a lot. I looked down to see one of Narxity's daggers in her hand, blood from my leg following the swing downwards. Faraday, logically thinking (which is unheard of in battle for a barbarian), tossed his weighted net over the Hunter, disabling her.

"Do you know who I am or what you have done?" she growled, as if we were to be impressed or frightened.

"Yeah," I said, brushing the pain aside, "you're Narxity, the human Hunter, who I'm not supposed to fornicate with because I will turn into the eighth one of you. Oh, and we're supposed to kill you."

"But I can't be killed. I'm a demon," she growled once more, pitifully trying to free herself. However, the magical net had other plans and further restricted her. At last, she gave in and fell to the floor completely.

"You're human," added Nagassa. "We can kill humans." And with that, Nagassa put an arrow through the eye of Narxity, pouring brains out her face and to the wooden floorboards. Faraday chimed into the violence, bringing one of his swords down and cutting the Hunter into two very distinct pieces. And that was that.

"Easy enough," he said, brushing the blood off on a bystander, who cursed and walked from the tavern in disgust - I think it was a preacher.

"Hey Leonard," I called.

"What now?" he said, moving over and surveying the carnage.

"For a hundred gold can you clean this up so we can get the fuck on our way?"

He looked at the brains, then at the gold in my hand, then took the coins. "Fuck you," he said under his breath, going behind the bar to retrieve a broom and dustpan. The waitress, whose leg was bandaged and appeared to be in good spirits, joined me as I sat at a table.

"I'm not going to apologize. That Hunter was pissing me off and Nagassa was being a whore."

She smiled. "I don't really care. I'm a Maiden, and I just want to fuck."

"In that case," I said, "I'm sorry. Now?"

Maidens are a mysterious echelon of enchantresses from the Temple of Desideratio. They are the third in a chain of five tiers of Templaresses; first being the Virgin - who, naturally, is a young woman, generally in the ages of twelve to sixteen, who has had no sexual contact. Virgins undergo a year-long process of cleansing, upon which they are bestowed their first level of magical powers and the tier of Provata. Provatas are pupils of the magical arts, and are merely beginning the powers of the Desideratio and to comprehend the mysteries of sexuality. After a two-year intense study, they are given the tier of Maiden, in which they are engrained with their first sexual powers and allowed to utilize the powers of sexuality, learning and practicing Desideratio fundamentals. When the Dietess determines Maidens are sound in their ways, they are released into the world with the title of Priestess of the Desideratio, whence they can use their powers in any means they deem.

That aside, we clamored up the rickety wooden staircase and swiftly into a secluded room at the end of the short hallway, where both our garments were on the floor in the span of three seconds. We wasted no time with formalities or foreplay; Maidens, as they are the basic rudiments of their magic, can become aroused at any point, with no warning.

As she was ready, I lashed inside her with ferocity, spreading her apart and inciting her to cry with pleasure. I began to whip in and out, ignoring etiquette or position, paying no heed to her clitoral pressure. I did notice her magnanimous breasts as they lurched this way and that; they were massive while not being disgusting. I was so enthralled in her bust that I lost complete control on my stimulation levels. Luckily, as I felt my climax begin, I hit the right spot and her pussy clamped down on me with vice-like grip, bouncing her tits with unmatched intensity as I exploded deep inside her again and again. After the bursts subsided, I collapsed on top of her, using her breasts as pillows. She relaxed her legs and allowed them to go limp over my back.

"I thought barbarians were supposed to be amazing in bed," she said, grinning as I raised my head, preparing to defend my sexual prowess. "I know," she winked.

Barbarians were humans, albeit immense and Spartan-trained from say one, with no parental limits to their violence levels, causing them to have Herculean aggressiveness. Our magical abilities are lacking, due more to our ignorance than to genetic ability; we could learn magic, but a sword is much more effective at head cleaving.

As I woke, was I later determined to be fifteen minutes later, I could hear Faraday and Nagassa in the room adjacent to ours. Unlike my twenty-second stint, Faraday was doing it in the proper manner; paying attention to Nagassa's desires: changing position, giving her clit plenty of attention, and generally being her sexual bitch. 'Ah, the benefits of marriage,' I though to myself, rolling on my side and grabbing a handful of the Maiden's right tit, stirring her in her slumber but not waking her. Many ideas crossed my mind, but I ignored all of them, got up from bed, and reclothed myself. I needed alcohol, and the closest place was a thirty-foot walk from my present position. I debated the pros and cons of the journey, then agreed with my subconscious and began the arduous trek down the fucking rickety stairs and to beer.

Chapter II

I awoke to find myself face-down in a puddle of ale, sitting on a barstool.

"Fuck," I muttered, lapping at the alcohol before raising my head and taking in my surroundings. It was the same tavern, except with Leonard passed out behind the bar and no other person in sight. Except Narxity. In one piece.

"What the hell?" I shouted, lurching from my stool and drawing my rapier. She moved, then her eyes snapped open, staring directly at me.

"I told you I can't be killed," she said, although she remained immovable by the net. I threw one of my knives, which I had pulled from its place behind the rapier's sheath, at her chest, which stuck into her breast, sadly causing significant damage.

Narxity nonchalantly pulled the knife from her boob and hurled it at my feet. Her wound sucked in the blood lost and closed, reforming an exquisite sight to see.

"Holy fuck," I muttered.

Faraday and Nagassa came running down the stairs, clearly risen by my shout, with cloths haphazardly arrayed on their bodies and weapons at the ready.

"What the fuck?!" yelled Faraday as he stopped in his tracks and saw Narxity alive and breathing. Wasting no time, he, like my instincts had told me, hurled his sword at her face, ripping the left half from her head. I blinked, and it was replaced by a perfectly healthy half face.

"I can't be killed; I'm a Hunter," she said sexily, drawing me to step a few paces closer. Her red cloth 'accidentally' fell from her breasts, exposing them completely. The leather from her hips was unlatched, and within the minute, she was seductively and entirely naked.

I lifted the net, taking her in my arms and putting one hand on her ass and the other her tits, caressing both and causing her to squeal with delight. I moved the ass hand to her cunt, parting the moist lips with two fingers while inserting another two, leaving the thumb to caress her clit. She unstrapped my trousers and let them fall to the floor, taking my erect manhood in hand and stroking it. We were locked together in pure bliss, standing in the center of a deserted tavern, giving each other nothing but ecstasy. Faraday and Nagassa were likewise enchanted and began much the same as us; declothing one another and stroking their respective areas, filling the entire tavern with moans of joy.

Taking Narxity's legs from her balance, I pulled them around my back and thrust into her soaking core, bouncing her up and down as her breasts played with my face, her nipples running to and fro, my mouth attempting to catch them. I pounded into her forcing her to scream loudly with intense pleasure before I launched a deluge of liquid inside her. She climaxed simultaneously, allowing us both to write in paramount intense elation before I fell to the ground, her on top of me, entwined in our brevity.

"You know what you have just done?" she whispered in a deaf ear.

"I just fucked a Hunter, yes. Is there a catch to your question?" I muttered, wanting no more than to repeat our debacle.

She laughed with more than a little evil. "You are now the eighth Hunter, bound to Tal Rasa to carry out his wishes for all of eternity."

"Great," I said, "meaning I ignore his wishes and use my powers of invincibility to carry out my own wishes. Fuck you people."

Her look of domination fell and her grin disappeared. "Fair enough, barbarian; you win. Unfortunately, the invincibility is an acquired trait of Hunters; you don't get immunity following a free fuck." She moved off of me and to my side, pulling my arm out and utilizing it as a headrest. "If you serve Tal Rasa and please him, the amulet will grant you the powers you desire, be it invincibility, flight, or an acute sense of magic. I chose the former and am now impervious to all but the possessor or the amulet; hence, why I want Graves to give me back what is mine."

"Wait," I said, at this point entirely confused. "Didn't Graves steal it from some old guy? Shouldn't you be wanting revenge in an ethereal sense on the old timer?"

"So is that what he told you," she chuckled. "Graves is no petty thief, no innocent studier of arcane objects. He is far more powerful than you and I; he is the Red Wizard, the last of the Order of Crimson, the keepers of the Ethereal Gate, which separates us from the deities. But the Gate no longer needs his defense; the gods have sent their own guardian. Now, Graves goes from land to land and fights the gods at every intersection possible, by stealing the amulet to striking Tal Rasa from the highest of thrones in attempt to regain his status of Gate protectorate."

"Well fuck it - when do I get my twenty gs?" I replied, at this point very angry. "Wait," I nearly shouted, a new thought having arrived in my head. "So you're not evil, and it really doesn't matter than we fucked, and I won't be the demonic paladin that Graves swore I would be?"

Again, Narxity chortled. "Obviously not. That's why I didn't want to kill the three of you because I figured the bastard lied to get me off his back. Unfortunately, all this fucking and fighting has given him a six or seven hour head start. If we want to hunt him down and get back the amulet, we had better get going."

"Deal," I said, no longer in the mood for follow-up sex. We replaced our armor and clothes, in her case this took about two seconds, and ventured behind the bar, where Nagassa and Faraday were fornicating rather loudly next to the passed-the-fuck-out Leonard.

"Hurry up, you two. And by the way, Narxity isn't evil and we need to go kill Graves." At that moment, Faraday fired his cannon and Nagassa's breasts tantalizingly quivered for the last time, a sign of her orgasm. I was aroused again, that fact clearly evident, but Narxity rolled her eyes and began out the door. I tossed a few gold coins next to Leonard for the messes on the floor and followed her.

"So who are you, if you're not a demonic Hunter who obeys an evil deity and carves a path through innocent human beings?"

During the night, snow had fallen and continued to do so, transforming the outdoors into a winter wonderland and raised my spirits drastically.

"Well, my name truly is Narxity. I was born and raised in the Temple of Desideratio, making it to the Priestess level before being entrapped by Tal Rasa and drawn into his servitude willingly." She formed a ball of snow and hurled it at me. Knowing no other defense, I tackled her into a snow drift.

She laughed, then pushed me off her and we rose. "I've carried out his biddings for a couple years, and then found out about Graves' power struggles with the gods. At that point, my chase began."

"Interesting enough," I said.

She nodded. "So who are you?"

"My name is Dagon the Slayer, I'm a barbarian from the Northern Spine clan of Dragon Slayers," stated, inflating my chest and saying it with pride.

"I've heard of you before," she said, intrinsically raising her head to ponder. "Oh yes, in a tavern in the Northern Tundra city of Elfloren. Some stupid drunk slut who was chanting your name. I figured you were some rich playboy from Byzantium who went around on his father's fortune and laid waste to the whore population of the north. Now, clearly, I've confirmed that."

I playfully punched her on the arm, which, since I was a barbarian, shot her to the snow-covered earth. As I helped her up, Nagassa and Faraday exited Ye Olde Tavern - Oakvale, and worked their way through the ever-multiplying snow. The best part of snow south the Gyildale was the warmth; it was comfortable to be clad in no more than an armored leather tunic, pants, and armor when it was snowing. There was minimal wind this far south as well, due to some curse -I saw it as a blessing- from some wayward wizard a half dozen centuries previous.

"Where to?" inquired Nagassa, stringing her bow and arrows to her back and taking a swig from her skin.

I looked to Narxity for instructions. "Don't look at me!" she exclaimed.

Faraday looked at me. "Don't fucking look at me, all this is Narxity's doing."

"Fine," she said, shoulders drooping. She withdrew a pinch of dust from a small bag on the small of her back and hurled it into the air. "In se, memoradem el dici, farad bekuem nol berede." The dust snapped together, forming a perfect arrow in the direction of the sea: westward. We were only a mile or so from the waterfront, so it was surprising Graves would flee there, but maybe he desired to catch a ship, thereupon increasing the difficulty of our pursuit infinitely.

We reached the oceanfront in a little under an hour, trudging through several feet of warm snow. In the distance, we could see a fishing village with a massive vessel docked at the paltry wooden wharf. The vessel was nearly double the size of the entire village and cast the buildings in shadow.

"What the fuck?" I said.

"That's a warship," stated Narxity. "A Byzantium Fleet warship. What the fuck is it doing this far south? You'd have to be insane."

Further south the Gyildale, which was virtually the border of Byzantia, were lands of 'uncivilized' folk, such as pirates or people who don't care too much for empires, specifically Byzantia, the empire controlling more than half of Attaca. Several other kingdoms lie to the east of Byzantia, but are held in constant trepidation and fear of conquering. And to the north, above Skydale, was barbarian territory. Although much-diminished from our lands of yore, no empire, especially the despised Byzantia, dared to cross north into the Northern Tundra, which was a barren wasteland so carved by Byzantia's previous attempts to conquer the warchiefs of antiquity, which led into the North Spine, homeland of my kin. And Faraday's. We picked up Nagassa along our travels from a prosperous trading plateau roughly between Skydale and Gyildale.

"Interesting," said Nagassa. "I suppose we should find out."

"Well," I interjected, "it's not like me and Faraday are the most inconspicuous of chaps. They're going to notice, and I'm fairly confident there's several hundred well-trained soldiers on that ship who would like nothing better than to kill a couple barbarians and rape their women."

"First," began Narxity, "you two will stay to the trees and make a camp. Myself and Nagassa will leave the most of our armament with you, then go into the village, inquire and find out why there's a Fleet warship here, then return. And second, we fucked once, great. I'm not your woman until we have had sex at least ten times."

I inwardly grinned, giving myself a pat on the back. "Fair enough. I bet we can achieve that if you would hurry up. Faraday, let's go."

They handed us their bow and arrows, swords, and armor, but maintained their daggers and shivs. The two of them began to wade through the snow as we took a sharper angle to the tree line in search of a good camp site.

We had gotten no more than five minutes into the woods before stumbling across a camp of raiders. They were grilling wild boar when they looked up and saw two immense men standing above them, armed to the teeth (that's me and Faraday).

"Holy fuck!" shouted one, grabbing a sword and backing away from the boar. I noticed one of the raiders was a rather-good-looking young girl who was clad in a white cloth and looked to be ready for sex. I noted that in my mind, withdrew my bastard sword and rapier, and began to hack into them.

I swiftly decapitated two while Faraday did the same, then we came to the girl. She couldn't have been a day older than sixteen winters, but her figure was full and her beauty stunning.

"Who are you?" I asked bluntly.

"My name as Sarra, I am a mistress from Jaden."

We looked at one another, then back at Sarra. "Where the fuck is Jaden?"

She pointed to the sea. "It's that village over there, the one with the big ship."

I nodded. "What is that ship doing there?"

"It came two days ago, demanding we pay tribute to the King. We refused, and they killed us all, save for the pretty girls. I escaped, only to be captured by these ruffians. They were going to rape me tonight, I thank you for saving me."

"Damn," I muttered.

"What was that?" she said daintily.

"Nothing."

"It's not sex I mind; trust me, I've had plenty. But I don't have it if I don't know who I'm having it with. I know you two; you are Faraday Daniels and Dagon the Slayer, both barbarians from the North Spine.

We leapt backwards a few yards. "What the fuck? Who are you?" shouted Faraday.

"I said my name is Sarra. I guess I am not a mistress. I'm a mystic; I see things about people."

"Oh," said, relaxing and sheathing my weaponry.

Sarra stood, dropping the cloth to the snow and revealing her well-defined nakedness. We looked at one another again, and Faraday nodded to me. Needing no further incentive, I gestured with a nod to the tent, opening the flap for her to enter and then dropping it behind me.

It was semi-dark in the tent, but the fading light allowed enough to see her delicate beauty; curved, round breasts with small, perk nipples, and a well-maintained pussy. We wasted no time with formalities and allowed our primal instincts to overcome us.

She was so smooth, so moist and inviting, yet firm as I thrust into her with one long stroke, spreading her wide and deep. I decided to take this slow and enjoy it; no need to rush sex with such a gorgeous girl. Her tits began to shake and quiver with firmness but not bounce as I pressed deep then withdrew nearly out, before driving deep once more. I took my left hand and caressed her nipples, which were erect and pink, as if drawn towards my touch. She moaned with my movements, reaching an orgasm quickly.

It overtook her and shook her entire being, from her toes to her nipples. "Yes, Dagon, you know what to do; fuck me like you've never fucked Nagassa, like you've never fucked Narxity or Jennison or the others." Yes, it was creepy having sex with a mystic, but then there's a first time for everything.

After her sixth or seventh orgasm, I plowed deep and unleashed a torrent of fluids within her warm folds, shaking her breasts and causing her to have consecutive orgasms, further sucking the liquid from me.

"You are the one which completes me," she whispered as I laid beside her, spent in every meaning of the word.

I pondered the word for a minute before responding. "In what way is that meant?" It was the most basic question I could pose to a mystic, who already knew I had Narxity and, for a quick fuck to the side, Nagassa.

"I know you have feelings for the Hunter, and even for Nagassa," she said, exposing even more than I knew. "But that is not what I meant in the literal sense. You have made me a true mystic. You are the barbarian I had to take the seed from. Now, I am a barbarian mystic, the most elite of the mystics."

"I have no idea what the fuck you are talking about," I said. Mystics are so goddamn confusing, hence their title.

"Ah," I replied. "So basically, I fuck you, you become the real deal. Great."

"Thank you, Dagon, you have done more than merely fuck me. One day, we will meet again and perhaps then you will realize your accomplishments." She rose and drew a tunic around her. "If you ever need me, say my name." And with that, she was gone.

"Might as well use this camp," I said, exiting the tent. Faraday had already done that; he had rummaged around for food and found slaughtered chicken, as the boar was far overcooked.

"It'll be ready in a few minutes. How was she?" he grinned.

I returned the expression. "Up there. She did have her a pair, let me tell you."

We turned abruptly as the sound of footsteps rushed towards us through the brush. We clamored to locate our weapons, and by the time we had prepared, Nagassa and Narxity burst through the trees, covered with debris and completely naked.

"What the fuck?!" shouted Faraday.

"Two things," panted Nagassa, struggling for breath. "First, we've been had and there is several hundred soldiers coming for us, and second, the ship is first in series of several dozen attempting to reclaim the south."

I shook my head. "Why are you two naked?" Granted, I took this opportunity to admire their beauty, but then bent to throw them some armor to maintain decency.

"Long story, not for right now."

"So," began Faraday, "do we fight or do we run?"

I looked at him. "Faraday, we're fucking barbarians. Of course we fucking fight."

The first group came through the woods to be met with nothing but steel, and their heads and mangled torsos were thrown right back into the trees, recoloring the immediate vicinity with blood and gore. That victory began to stir our barbarian bloodrage, the product of so many years of violent acts and upbringing.

The second squad was far greater in numbers, more than likely around forty, and began to encircle us. Narxity withdrew a stack of enchanted daggers and flung them as boomerangs; they lashed out, slicing through neck and bone and flesh, before returning to her outstretched hands. Nagassa wasted no time in honing her accuracy with the bow, firing arrow after arrow into the heads of the soldiers, even separating one's head from his neck as the arrow became lodged in his eye socket.

Faraday went right with his swords, hacking and sawing through ten or fifteen, producing a dazzling display of limbs, heads, and I even saw a foot. Fuck knows how a foot got airborne or even disattached from its owner.

I went left, doing much of the same; swinging my sword with my stronger right hand, bashing through feeble hardwood shields with ease, while my left brandished my prized rapier, with which I finished the job my right started by hacking through skin.

Sarra reappeared with a longstaff, each end with a blade. She had a jewel-encrusted leather band around her head and bore the expression of impending combat. She waded into her own group, flashing the longstaff with amazing speed and versatility. Honestly, I'm not sure if I've ever seen a girl move so fast.

In fifteen seconds flat, all forty were dead or dying and the camp was a mess of giblets. Evidently, the remainder of the brigade had heard the destruction, maybe even seen two massive barbarians, and reconsidered their conquest of the trees.

Nagassa and Narxity looked at Sarra, who in turned sized them up, perhaps testament of all three's barbarian relationships.

"Narxity and Nagassa, this is Sarra; she's a crazy mystic who the raiders captured and were going to 'take care' of," I interjected so as the camp could be made and we could begin anew our pursuit in the morn.

"A mystic, eh?" began Nagassa, tossing her bow to the ground beside the fire, pulling off a leg, and flopping on a log. "Haven't seen one of your kind for a few years."

"Indeed," said Sarra, mimicking Nagassa, "we have been hunted for several decades now by the Byzantia Warlords (the secret police) and our numbers are few."

Narxity also tore off a piece of meat, inciting myself and Faraday to split the remainder of the bird in two large pieces and devour them in three bites.

Chapter III

The night had seen another two feet of snowfall, although the sun shone by the time we had awoken and began to gather ourselves for another day of tracking down Graves. And yes, myself and Narxity fornicated endlessly.

"Which direction?" I inquired, prompting Narxity to repeat the dust arrow as she had done yesterday, which in turn pointed due north, towards Gyildale and what was perhaps a large Byzantium invasion force.

"Shit," mumbled Faraday.

"Shit is an understatement," said Nagassa, pulling her shirt and armor on before placing her bow and quiver at her back.

"To the north," I shouted, at least giving us two barbarians the energy to move.

We trekked for three hours along the coastline, the snow decreasing until green grass once again was the terrain. We had reached the outskirts of Gyildale and could see a pair of warships at the docks, hundreds of well-armed-but-not-necessarily-well-trained soldiers debarking and beginning their hostile takeover of a once-free township.

"What now?" I asked, always the optimist.

Nagassa withdrew a looking glass from her pack and peered into the city. "There's far too many, even for two barbarians, a mystic, and a Hunter. At least a thousand, plus cavalry."

Gyildale marked the end of the southern comfort and the beginning of a desert which spanned north a hundred miles and east to Byzantium, which was built upon the greatest of the Golden Oasis. Byzantium was truly a city to admire, with over two million inhabitants and the single largest structure of all mankind; the Temple of the Goddess, which was a thousand men high and equally as wide, a vast complex which dominated the horizon as well as the cityscape.

"We could travel around Gyildale by nightfall, avoid the scouts and patrols, then continue north through the desert," suggested Narxity.

"Fuck no," I interpolated. "I'm not waiting until nightfall and 'slipping' through the woods again."

"Wait," said Sarra, speaking for the first time since last night. "I know of a series of underground vaults which would take us under the city and keep us surreptitious."

"Great," I exclaimed. "Where are they?"

She pointed to a small stone obelisk several hundred paces from our current location. It stood in the center of a ring of oaks, which was between us and the city walls in a large plain. Not something us barbarians could sprint to and remain unnoticed by the new Byzantium guards posted on the said wall.

"There is a certain stone which-"

"Yada, yada," I broke in, "the standard secret stone. Got it; let's go."

And with that, we began our sprint across the naked grass and to the oaks. We made it in about a minute, and due to the lack of a horn sounding, one could assume no one had seen us.

Sarra pressed a stone, which was clearly marked with runes and inscribings, and we began our descent.

The smell of death was apparent after we ventured past an ivory portico. The whole vault sensation was unbecoming, especially because natural light was bouncing in and providing us with an easily-navigable journey. Although the smell increased, we continued.

Of course, some bitches had decided to use the underground as a place to build a lair for stolen loot, and the said bitches were, at the present time, stashing some stolen loot.

Nagassa wasted no time and laid one out with an arrow protruding from his face and blood splashing through the dry air. Before the bitches had gotten their bearings, I had bullrushed them with blades drawn, slicing the first two's heads off and the two behind them I halved, producing what I could imagine to be a rather dazzling spectacle. The sole survivor Sarra dispatched with a thrown dagger to the back of the spine.

"And that is how a massacre is done," I said, cleaning my blades on the thick hair of a decapitated head.

The bitches had, to their credit, some pretty impressive loot, the most impressive of which was a gold-and-gem-encrusted platinum crown which was "Fit for a fucking prince," I proclaimed to the group, holding it aloft.

"That is the prince's crown," said Sarra, taking it from my hands and admiring it. "It belongs to the prince of Gyildale who is the king's son."

Again, I looked at Faraday, knowing what that meant.

"The prince is dead," I blurted. "Holy shit, someone had the king's son killed!"

"No we don't know that for sure," said Nagassa, moving to take the crown and inspecting it.

"Look," said Sarra, pointing at an inscription, "the royal emblem. It's definitely the crown."

"Okay, great," said Faraday. "That doesn't prove he's dead, and even if he is, why should we care: there's no way in fuck whoever did this is going to go north to the Northern Spine. I don't care how big this guy's balls are, no one's going to take down an entire country of barbarians."

"True," I said, kicking one of the mangled torsos aside. "Regardless, we'd better be on our way so we can get the fuck out of here; I'm getting claustrophobic."

No sooner had I said that than four pairs of footsteps broke the silence, coming in the direction of our progress. Instinctively, we readied ourselves and prepared to kill four more soldiers.

"Holy shit!" she shouted as one of Nagassa's arrows narrowly missed her head. The second arrow lodged itself firmly in the rock where the woman's shoulder had been microseconds before.

There were four beautiful young women, clothed in nothing but tops of gold and jewels which covered no more than the nipples and bottoms which did little to disguise the natural treasures underneath; a mere gold string around the waist with three strips of gems hanging four inches down in front and one in back. Each had gold daggers and the last had a pack no doubt full of supplies. All of the weaponry was drenched in red blood.

"Who are you," said Narxity, not letting down her Hunter guard for an instant.

They, however, lowered their daggers. "We are the Royal Courtesans. The prince's playthings during the night and his bodyguards by day. I am Aphrodite," as she gestured around the group, "this is Serena," who was clearly the most beautiful of the four; her body was a golden dark brown, with obvious sandpeople heritage; "and she is Eva" who bore resemblance to barbarian lineage - she was tall and slender albeit supple in specific areas, with stunning white hair and a strong face; "and she is Phernia, the prince's favorite" who I considered the least attractive - which wasn't saying a whole lot considering the company she bore; she was tan with coal-black hair and blazing green eyes.

"Where are you coming from and going to?" interrogated Narxity.

"The Byzantium soldiers. They are everywhere, killing and raping," said Phernia, who was clearly dainty and whose blade bore the least blood.

"In that case," I said, lowering my blades and puffing out my chest more than discreetly, "I am Dagon the Slayer, a barbarian from the Northern Spine," that caught Eva's attention as she smiled, "this is Faraday, touted barbarian slaughterer from the same clan as I, this is Nagassa, his fiancé; Narxity, Hunter of Tal Rasa, and Sarra, mystic extraordinaire. We were traveling these tunnels to bypass the commotion."

"Good luck; they're minutes behind us," chimed Serena.

"What forces you to bypass the city?" asked Aphrodite.

I looked at Narxity, who nodded. "We are on the tracks of a certain Graves, a man who owes us far more than his head."

The women looked at one another with pale expressions; clearly they knew who we were chasing.

"What the fuck was that look?" I queried with much force.

Aphrodite trembled. "Graves is the man who killed Prince Gavin. He is the man behind the killings." She broke down into tears, prompting the others to gather around and sooth, likewise tearing up. I rolled my eyes at Faraday, who snickered before Nagassa punched him in the ribs.

"I take it you knew Graves before he killed Gavin?" said Faraday, wincing from pain.

Phernia looked up. "He was Gavin's right-hand man and the commander of his armies. He was on loan from the king as a military advisor."

"And he was amazing in..." started Serena, before fully taking into account the nature of our party and silencing herself.

And then a squad of soldiers barged in on the tearfest. "Step away from the women," commanded the lieutenant, decked out in his shining medallions and insignia of ass-kissery. That, naturally, was before he look into account the stature of myself and Faraday.

He, like the other ten, turned to run before my thrown bastard sword sliced his torso into lovely, neat little halves. Sarra closed her eyes and began murmering some gibberish as the air around her began to move and glow a bright blue. Then her eyes flew open and energy rippled from her body, forming into the shapes of three mighty steeds before leaping past the gaping me and Faraday and continuing on to trample the fleeing men into a bloody pulp before disintegrating into thin air.

"What the fuck was that?" I demanded as the last of the giblets fell to the rocks.

She shrugged. "I know a little magic and I thought I'd practice it."

"A little magic?" bellowed Faraday. "That was fucking sorceress material!"

Again, she shrugged. "What can I say?"

I sighed and bent to retrieve my sword from among the lake of gore, again wiping it on a severed head's crusty hair.

"There will be more at the end of these tunnels," warned Aphrodite.

"Well then," said Nagassa, moving forward, "we'd better get the hell out of these tunnels before we're trapped. Or worse, they put boulders and cap us in."

"At least we'd live like kings," I said, tossing a solid-gold plate against the far rocks, shattering it. That made me happy.

After ten minutes of walking, we reached the entrance into the city. Since the alcove of the thieves, the tunnel had become increasingly carved and ornamented, with slots in the walls for what appeared to be corpses. Except they lacked the element which made them tombs: dead people.

"Where does this come out?" asked Narxity.

"In the cellar of a tavern."

"Which one," I pondered, always on the lookout for a good pub.

"Ye Olde Tavern I think," answered Phernia, who was never one for intelligence.

"Fucking sweet!" proclaimed Faraday.

Ye Olde Tavern was a chain of pubs set up across the map by a barbarian two hundred years in the past. Instead of the Imperial-owned taverns of contemporaneous society, Ye Olde Taverns are places of endless alcohol, tales, and sex; just the place for a proper barbarian. And, of course, Byzantia is hesitant of shutting them down for fear of barbarian retaliation.

We moved up the hewn rocks, which was no easy task. They were steep and narrow, without support on either side. We continued up for two or three minutes which, by my rough count, was around two hundred steps, before we reached a wooden trapdoor, which was reinforced with iron strips and spikes, so that if one were being pursued, he could slam the trapdoor closed and pull the spikes out, impaling whomever opened it and neglected to check for spikes before hauling ass down the steps.

The sound of drinking and debauchery were loud, proving instantaneously this was an establishment of Ye Olde Tavern. My spirits were high as I wondered how the soldiers ventured through such a place. Clearly there must be another entrance because they would have been massacred.

"Welcmmm to de Oldd Tvrn...!" shouted a drunkard, falling down the wooden stairs and landing teeth first in a sack of manure. By my best guesses, that was the bartender. Yep, this was fucking barbarian territory regardless of what empire wanted to take over the city.

"What's the strategy?" asked Aphrodite as her and the Courtesans brought up the rear.

"Strategy?" shouted Faraday.

"Fuck strategy!" I whooped as we charged up the stairs and into the drunken pandemonium of the tavern.

It was a chaotic scene; there were barbarians littering the floor, the bar, and the chandeliers, clinging on to whatever alcohol containers could be located. Equally-intoxicated barmaids were stumbling to and fro, delivering more spirits to shouting, singing, or fighting monstrosities of men.

At was, at that point when we arrived, when the Byzantium soldier decided it was high time to take over what was probably the last thing to take over in the entire damned city.

They came busted through the door with swords drawn and shouting. "Everyone out! By command of the Byzantium Army you are to disband or by imprisoned and hanged! Everyone out!" Now whoever had enough balls to shout that, with weapons brandished, at a tavern full of drunk barbarian, deserves a pat on the back.

And that came in the form of the barbarian who had been previously hanging off the glass chandelier, who vaulted (in respect to our culture - what he did was far less graceful) from the contraption with a massive battleaxe and swung at the lieutenant, cleaving him at an angle from shoulder to waist. That brought a cheer from the crowd and a general raising of bloodlust. It was time for barbaric mayhem, and the last people on earth I would want to be is the soldiers.

They were cut down in an instant; body parts were flying through the air along with fountains of blood as the surge of barbarians pushed the soldiers and their remains out of the tavern and onto the mid-afternoon streets.

"I am not missing this battle!" I shouted, following the horde. By the time three seconds had passed, three hundred soldiers were now six thousand pieces and the pack of barbarians was pushing swiftly towards the ships, where the survivors were retreating with haste.

Myself and Faraday pushed to the front of the multitude, which at this time was being led by a man we later learned to be Gregory the Mighty, a warlord in the Frozen Woodlands.

The frontline, which was chaotically so, was massacring the soldiers at an impressive pace. I could only kill a dozen and Faraday the same before we were aboard the flagship, hacking and slashing left and right.

In all of ten minutes from the command of the ill-fated lieutenant, the entire contingent on both ships was dead. The main road which led from the tavern to the docks was a swath of destruction and blood, with vultures and other carcass-disposing creatures gathering to take away the remains.

"What a fucking battle," I proclaimed as the bloodlust wore from my veins.

"Indeed," sighed Faraday. We trudged down the gangplank and past the docks, where the horde was dispersing to check on families and friends, who were more than likely dead or tied up somewhere. Out of a city of eighty thousand, the only ones left were likely thirty barbarians and what females the soldiers deemed rapable. A good mixture for a fervent night of sex.

"What to do now?" asked Nagassa, exiting the tavern with the others.

"We didn't have much time to think," said Narxity, alluding to the cursory battle, "but we figured we'd head east toward Byzantium and see if we can't dig up more about this takeover."

"I disagree," said Faraday. "We should go up the coast and gather more barbarians, then head to the Northern Tundra to defend ourselves."

"That is what I and the others are doing," said Gregory in passing, hands on the asses of two uncovered blondes.

Nagassa shrugged. "We could take a north-east path and cut up around the desert, that way we could dodge the coast and still get information and get to the Tundra in good time."

"I like it," I said. I looked at the Courtesans. "What about you ladies?"

They looked amongst one another. "I suppose we'll travel with you until there is something better to do, if that is acceptable," said Aphrodite.

"Fine by me," exclaimed Faraday, who, like me, was going to benefit with four additional buxom females.

"Then off we go."

Chapter IV

We were two days into our journey and skirting the edge of the desert, which ended abruptly at a vast forest. By day we traveled in the trees so as to avoid the suns, and by night, if we weren't camped, we traveled in the sands to avoid becoming disoriented. Tonight we intended to camp, as our energy was low.

"Which tent should I sleep in," inquired Serena, as the other Courtesans were asleep in a lavish tent they had brought.

"Mine," I proclaimed, noticing Narxity did not seem to mind.

We settled in, me in the middle with Narxity and Serena on either side. Even whilst a guest was present, myself and Narxity did not intend to forgo our nightly revelry.

I began by turning on my side and loosing her straps, lifting them off gently and brushing aside the cloth, revealing her exquisite form, her breasts round and large while firm. I bent to nibble on her left nipple, causing them both to swell and become erect while she moved down and removed my trousers, exposing my likewise erect self. I brushed her already-wet cunt and she moaned, spreading her legs and moving closer, draping her right leg over my thigh.

I thrust in with vigor, spreading her moist lips wide and stimulating her clitoris, forcing her to cry out loudly. It was then I felt two points on my back and an arm coming around my to grasp my manhood at the base.

It was Serena, and her hard nipples were rubbing against my muscular back. This only incited me to thrust harder, which in turn made Narxity cry louder from intense delight. I turned, placing Narxity on her back while still inside her so I could get a better look and feel angle on Serena.

I moved my right hand from support position and moved the gold strips away, placing my palm on her clit and three fingers inside her pussy, which was overflowing with pleasure juice. I pounded harder and harder into Narxity until the sheer amazement of my fingers inside Serena and the tightness of Narxity's cunt forced me to unleash a barrage of man milk so deep inside Narxity. I continued to fire for what seemed like an eternity, Narxity's orgasms pulling more and more from my body.

But, as a barbarian of my years, I was not even close to being expended. I moved from Narxity and spread Serena's legs wide, presenting me with her dark cunt lips and pink pussy. I fingered her clit before my erection subsided, restimulating myself and burying my manhood inside her.

She was so tight, but her sheer moisture allowed me to penetrate the length of my shaft. Her huge round tits were almost like gelatin as I relinquished my self control to the pure passion of the moment, allowing my thrust to intensify and leaving all self control to another day. In no time, I climaxed, again producing a tirade of explosions inside Serena as her cries of joy reached an all-time loudness as her fourth orgasm overtook her.

The next morning, they were both naked and sleeping in the crook of either of my massive arms, their left and right legs respectively were draped across my abdomen and their breasts were pressed against my ribcage. I was a happy man.

Until I heard a thump-thump-thump in the distance, as if massive amounts of something were being displaced. The thumping grew louder and louder until the tent began to shake before it collapsed and was blown away altogether, waking the women and making them scream with fear.

It was a dragon, and perched in its saddle was what appeared to be a battle wizard, with his staff alight with flames, hurling a fireball straight at us.

Sarra leapt before the fireball, deflecting it into the desert with her own staff, before firing a bolt of lightning at the rider, swaying him but no serious injury amounted.

The others were wake and arming themselves as I sprang up and grabbed my own blades, trying to figure out how to combat the beast and its battle wizard. Nagassa had wasted no time and was firing arrows at the wizard, which forced him to concentrate on deflecting them.

The dragon, being a sentient creature, began to make passes at us, attempting to grab us with his claws before dropping us from the sky. As he made one such pass on Serena, who was trembling in fear beside me, I swung and smote his right leg entirely off. The beast roared with pain before shaking the battle wizard from his perch and furiously flapping his wings skyward, disappearing on the horizon.

We approached the battle wizard, who was flat on the ground with likely many broken parts, with no caution.

"Who the fuck are you?!" I shouted, beginning to swing my rapier before Narxity stopped me with her arm.

The man coughed blood before raising himself on an elbow, facing us. "My name is...Harold...I...am a battle wizard...from Byzantium..."

"No shit," I yelled, kicking him in the chest and sending him flying a few feet before he came to rest at a log.

"Why do you want us dead?" shouted Nagassa, none to peacefully.

"The...Courtesans...Eva...she must be...killed..."

We all looked at Eva, who looked left and right as if saying 'what the fuck did I do?'

"What the fuck did she do?" bellowed Faraday.

"She is...the barbarian...." he coughed up a substantial amount of blood along with what appeared to be half a lung. "...queen..." And with that, he was dead. To make sure, I cut his head in two.

Again, we all stared at Eva, who again appeared to have no idea what was going on.

"Who are you," said Narxity.

"Eva," she replied, backing away slightly.

"Who are your parents?" inquired Sarra.

At that, she appeared to have the full understanding. "My father is Elias the Marauder and my mother is Arianna the Bountiful." I looked at Faraday, who confirmed what I was thinking with a nod.

"They're both barbarian royalty. Elias was the barbarian who defeated the last fucker who decided to invade the Northern Spine. He didn't defeat so much as rape sixty-five thousand legionnaires with his one thousand barbarians militia." I grunted. "Goes to show what 'legionnaire' means these days."

"Wait," said Sarra, "if you're the queen, then they're both..." and she paused.

"Dead," I exclaimed. Barbarians were not depressed when another died; they moved on to a life of constant revelry (which, I suppose, is not much dissimilar to everyday barbarian existence).

"So, that means this invasion thing is for real," said Aphrodite.

"Indeed."

"Fuck finding clues, we've got to make haste for the Tundra before it's too late. We need our queen," shouted Faraday. Barbarian royalty, be it male or female, led our kind into battle and were fearsome warriors. While Eva was stunningly gorgeous with her rounded, large breasts and her defined figure, I could imagine her in a suit of barbarian battle armor and two bloodied maces.

"To the Tundra!" I bellowed.