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Might not follow my usual themes or styles, and can contain some things I don't normally write.", "count": "98", "submission_left_submission_id": "3308057", "submission_left_file_name": "5006980_XPAuthor_cbc_-_dangerdommy_snaps.doc", "submission_left_thumbnail_url_huge": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/5006/5006980_XPAuthor_cbc_-_dangerdommy_snaps.jpg", "submission_left_thumbnail_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/5006/5006980_XPAuthor_cbc_-_dangerdommy_snaps.jpg", "submission_left_thumbnail_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/5006/5006980_XPAuthor_cbc_-_dangerdommy_snaps.jpg", "submission_left_thumb_huge_x": "300", "submission_left_thumb_huge_y": "300", "submission_left_thumb_large_x": "200", "submission_left_thumb_large_y": "200", "submission_left_thumb_medium_x": "120", "submission_left_thumb_medium_y": "120", "submission_right_submission_id": "3320410", "submission_right_file_name": "5029874_XPAuthor_blackstone_arena_-_chapter_3.doc", "submission_right_thumbnail_url_huge": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/5029/5029874_XPAuthor_blackstone_arena_-_chapter_3.jpg", "submission_right_thumbnail_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/5029/5029874_XPAuthor_blackstone_arena_-_chapter_3.jpg", "submission_right_thumbnail_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/5029/5029874_XPAuthor_blackstone_arena_-_chapter_3.jpg", "submission_right_thumb_huge_x": "300", "submission_right_thumb_huge_y": "300", "submission_right_thumb_large_x": "200", "submission_right_thumb_large_y": "200", "submission_right_thumb_medium_x": "120", "submission_right_thumb_medium_y": "120" } ], "description": "Another raffle story done. This one for Sedyna, and another sequel to an older story, [url=https://inkbunny.net/s/3078296]Knightly Betrayal.[/url] Some years have passed since the revolt that led to a new king, and one of the knights that was responsible has been living with the regret of his actions ever since. Especially killing his lover and disciple, Anna. He now travels to the home of a witch in the woods, with the hopes of reviving the fallen knight, allowing her to get revenge on those that wronged her... most of all himself.\n\n- - - - -\n\nA massive thank you to my top tier subscribers:\n[fa]booleangemini352[/fa] | Sedyna | [fa]Kaden22[/fa] | [fa]jafferroshak[/fa] | RoleplayCentral | Tierr | [fa]akinkyyfox[/fa]\n\nIf you would like early access to my stories, polls, monthly commission raffles, weekly previews and updates, behind the scenes talks, and other bonus content, please consider subscribing to my [url=https://subscribestar.adult/xp_author]SubscribeStar[/url]", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Another raffle story done. This one for Sedyna, and another sequel to an older story, Knightly Betrayal. Some years have passed since the revolt that led to a new king, and one of the knights that was responsible has been living with the regret of his actions ever since. Especially killing his lover and disciple, Anna. He now travels to the home of a witch in the woods, with the hopes of reviving the fallen knight, allowing her to get revenge on those that wronged her... most of all himself.

- - - - -

A massive thank you to my top tier subscribers:
\n\t\t\t\t\tbooleangemini352 | Sedyna | \n\t\t\t\t\tKaden22 | \n\t\t\t\t\tjafferroshak | RoleplayCentral | Tierr | \n\t\t\t\t\takinkyyfox

If you would like early access to my stories, polls, monthly commission raffles, weekly previews and updates, behind the scenes talks, and other bonus content, please consider subscribing to my SubscribeStar", "writing": "[center][b]Knightly Revenge[/b][/center]\n[center]By XP Author[/center]\n\nTelios trudged forward down the muddy path that barely counted as a road. The sounds of swamp life all around him as the stag walked through the thick trees, the humidity almost oppressive around him. He stood out among the overgrown wilderness. Not just his stature, tall and muscular, or his antlers, standing proud and prominent atop his head. It was his attire that stood out the most. It was not very often that a general walked through these woods. Bandits and brigands were a far more frequent sight in such a place. His steel armour shined, clanking with every step. His red cape hung heavy from the damp air, his cloak left down, his head uncovered. Despite the darkness of night and the deep shadows of the gnarled trees, he walked with determination. He knew his destination, even having only visited it twice before.\n\nHe was also not alone. Walking beside him was a young fox, barely a man. Jarris was skinny, his clothing little more than rags. The travel cloak fit him poorly, but it let him clutch it around himself, even if it did little to keep him from shivering. Despite the humidity, the air felt unnaturally cold the deeper they walked. The young man glanced at the general, then back at the large bag the man carried with him. He had no idea what was in so large a sack. It reminded him of the kind that brought various vegetables to the kitchen. He had been a slave at the palace, assigned to do menial tasks such as skin potatoes or clean the floors. He was not strong enough to do much more, and only getting weaker by the day thanks to his illness.\n\nSoon, a dim light appeared in the distance. As it got brighter, the fox recognized it as a single lantern, hanging by a post. It barely illuminated the tiny building beyond. A small, ramshackle hut made of crooked logs, just off balance enough to be noticeable to the naked eye, and half-overgrown by moss and vines. It was as if the swamp were trying to claim it as its own and drag it below the surface. \"That is our destination.\" The fox jumped as he heard the general's voice for the first time in hours. \"Ready yourself... and thank you.\"\n\nThe fox nodded. \"Thank you, sir, for choosing me.\" He knew only part of what was going to happen. The most important part involving him, at least. He had gotten to see outside of not only the palace's lower chambers, but outside of the city itself for the first time. That was a gift to a slave.\n\nTelios still winced a little. But he could not turn back. He stepped to the door, setting the sack over his shoulder down gently, as if whatever was inside might break at too hard a jostle. He knocked on the door hard. \"It is I, Telios, General of Kirkonia. I have returned, mage.\" He said the last word almost as if it were an insult.\n\nThere was sound from inside, a voice calling out. A moment later, the crude door opened with a creaking sound, revealing the occupant. An old, gaunt raccoon that looked like she was somehow both centuries old, but full of vibrant youth. Her hair was shockingly silver, but wispy, hanging down almost to her tail like fog rolling off of her head. Her fur was scruffy but thick, a mix of black, brown, and greys. Her eyes were black as coal, and not just the irises, as if there were black holes where her eyes should be, and yet still clear to see where her gaze fell. It currently fell upon the two standing before her, a smile spreading on her mouth almost unnaturally wide. \"Ah. Good. Good.\" Her gaze turned to look at the fox, and he flinched in response, not hiding how unnerved she made him. \"Very well. Come in.\" She returned inside.\n\nTelios picked the sack back up, looking at Jarris. \"Come. Follow.\" He had to duck down to enter the doorway, the fox following close behind him. The inside of the hut was impossibly large for how small it looked from the outside. It was like stepping into a carriage and finding yourself in a cathedral. The walls were still somewhat dilapidated, the floor made of one massive slab of rough stone, as if it had been carved out of the ground and the house built around it. There was a fireplace to one side, a cauldron sitting beside it, empty for now.\n\nJarris flinched as the raccoon was suddenly so close to him she was practically touching. She peered at him with her beady, black eyes. \"This is the one you have chosen? The soul of innocence?\"\n\nTelios nodded. \"Yes. He is a slave from the palace, and has never known a life other than that.\"\n\nShe nodded, stepping away with a speed that surprised the fox with how old she appeared to be. \"And you are willing to sacrifice this boy?\" She looked at the boy. \"And you are willing to be sacrificed?\"\n\nJarris nodded slowly. \"Yes, Madam.\"\n\nShe smiled at him again. \"Gathgaranis. You may call me Gathi.\"\n\nHe nodded again, but could not shake the unsettling feeling as she stared at him. \"Yes, Madam Gathi. I am... already short for this world. My illness will claim me in weeks or months, but I will not live to see the next year. So if my life may aid the General in some way, then... I give it willingly and... and freely.\" He felt a sense of empowerment in that moment. As a slave, his life had never been his own. So this was another gift the stag had granted him.\n\nGathi grunted. \"So noble.\" She turned to Telios. \"And you brought the rest I asked?\" He nodded to her. \"Very well. Set it all upon the circle there.\" She pointed to a spot on the floor, an elaborate pattern having been drawn there. Jarris was not sure how he didn't see it before, as if it just appeared from nowhere as soon as she pointed at it.\n\nTelios nodded again. \"Of course.\" He moved over to the circle, careful not to smudge any of it as he stepped into the center and set the bag down. He opened it, and started to pull from it bones. Most of the bones looked like they had been left to rot a long time ago, some still had what was left of the old flesh hanging from them, almost mummified. He gently laid all he could out onto the floor, assembling them roughly into the shape of a person. The last he brought out was the desiccated skull of a tiger, the eyes long gone, the teeth exposed, and with a massive hole in the top where it had been left on a spike for months. He gently set it down with the rest, then stepped back out of the circle.\n\nAs he drew a sword, the raccoon waved her hand. \"Keep that. You'll need it.\" She then shambled over to the circle, kneeling down at the edge. \"You, boy.\" She pointed at the fox. \"Get to the edge of the circle and face the bones. And remove the cloak. It will only be in the way.\"\n\nJarris nodded, doing as he was asked. \"Yes, Madam, Gathi.\" He moved where she had told him, taking his travel cloak off and gently setting it down on the floor at his feet. \"Here?\"\n\nShe smiled. \"Yes. That will do.\" She looked to Telios. \"You know what to do... General.\" Much like he had done with the term mage, the way she said his title was almost an insult.\n\nThe stag nodded. \"Yes. I do.\" He gripped the sword tighter in his hand as he moved behind Jarris. The sword was very ornate, the blade long and sharp, tinted very slightly green. The guard had patterns of leaves upon it. It had belonged to someone else, though he was the one who gifted it to her. Someone he respected. Someone he loved. Someone he had betrayed and aided in the murder of. And now, it would be used to murder again, for the sake of righting the worst wrong of his life. He brought the sword up and around. \"Thank you, Jarris.\" He pressed the blade to the man's throat and cut quickly.\n\nBlood started to spray the moment the wound was opened. The fox's breath caught, then only a gurgle came from him. He reached up to grasp at his throat, his blood still splashing out between his fingers. Even knowing this was to be his fate, he had never expected just what it would feel like. Panic overtook him, his instinct to survive overriding his acceptance of his death. Yet he still fell to his knees as his strength rapidly left him. The blood poured out of the man's neck, splashing onto the ground within the circle... and moved of its own accord. It flowed outward along the floor, as if alive. It seeped forward, until it flowed onto the bones, rapidly starting to coat them in crimson.\n\nTelios stepped back, still gripping the blade in his hand as he watched the foul necromancy at work. The fox fell forward as the blood seemed to almost be pulled out of him now, draining the man's body so completely he almost seemed to shrivel. He gave a silent apology to the boy. He had not just taken his life, but let this necromancer use his very soul as fuel for the dark magics at play. The blood flowed out around the bones, filling in the gaps between them, mending those with chips or breaks, then coating around, quickly forming the shape of a body again. Flesh started to form rapidly, muscle and sinew lacing together before his very eyes. Fur started to grow as the skin reformed. It was a ghostly white, with pale tiger stripes. The face filled in, until he could recognize the woman once more.\n\nThe whole process took only minutes, and soon, he was staring at her again. Anna. The tigress that he had trained for years. The woman he had loved. The person he had betrayed. He almost flinched as her eyes snapped open, but there was no gasp of breath. She sat up unnaturally fast, and he saw her eyes were crimson as they stared down at her hands. \"I am... alive?\"\n\nGathi chuckled slowly as she looked at the naked tigress. \"Not quite, my dear fallen knight. You were slain, and now you are whole again.\" She motioned to the stag. \"Brought back thanks to him.\"\n\nAnna turned to see Telios. Her confusion was replaced by a sudden, burning, overwhelming rage. \"[b][i]YOU![/i][/b]\" The word was shouted with such a fury that it felt like hell itself spoke it. Perhaps it did. She was suddenly on her feet, charging at him with blinding speed. Her hand lashed out, grasping his neck, so hard it lifted him off of his feet, armor and all. \"You! You murdered me!\"\n\nHe struggled against his own instinct to fight her. \"Yes...\" It was true.\n\n\"You should let the man explain before you end him.\" Gathi spoke softly, and yet her voice carried a commanding essence that compelled the undead tigress to obey.\n\nShe set the man back down on his hooves, though her claws still scratched at his throat as she removed her hand. \"Speak quickly, traitor.\"\n\n\"Y-yes...\" He explained as best he could. Several years ago, he had betrayed not only her, but his own nation. The former queen had been a tyrant, so at the time, he had thought it was the only choice to make, and he had tried everything to stop her from being involved. But she was a knight through and through, fighting to defend her queen to the bitter end. A better knight than he ever was. He had fallen in league with rebels, aided their attack on the palace, and let them slay the queen... and Anna's head was taken in the end as well. They had displayed her for a long time outside of the palace, then dumped her into a pit. He had collected her bones and given her as proper a burial as he could, though her grave was unmarked. Her skull had to be added later, once it was finally removed from the spike display.\n\n\"The queen was a tyrant, and I thought it was the only way.\" His eyes were cast down, his shoulders slumped. \"I wished so much you would have run with me... but you had too much honour. Far more than I.\" He closed his eyes. \"And it was all for nothing. Kirkonus... he crowned himself king, and has been more a tyrant than the old queen ever was. He lets slavers buy his ear, taxes the people beyond their limit, and has ruled by martial law these past years. The people suffer under him and his kind. Any knight of honour left years ago...\"\n\nShe reached out to grip the edge of his cape, the symbol of his rank. \"And yet you stayed?\" Her tone was accusing.\n\nHe nodded, knowing the real meaning of her words. No knight of honour remained, yet he did. \"I stayed in the hope that it might keep him from falling into tyrany, but all I have done is barely hold him back from causing war... but I fear that, too, is beyond my capabilities.\"\n\nAnna scoffed. \"So you not only threw away everything you had, but you only made things even worse anyway?\" He flinched, but nodded. \"You should have fallen on your sword.\" She crossed her arms over her chest, still not seeming to care that she was completely naked in front of him. \"This isn't making me want to kill you any less. If anything, I want to rip out your heart even more.\"\n\nHe nodded, bringing his hand up and holding out the sword to her. \"Then you can do just that. But I ask that you save the kingdom that I have ruined. Not for me. But the people you once swore an oath to need someone to deal with the tyrant on the throne. The tyrant I put there in my ignorance. So please. Kill Kirkonus. If not for the people, for revenge against the man who took your head and defiled your body. If you do this, I care not what you do to me. I deserve your wrath and more.\"\n\nAnna looked at the sword. She reached out and took it from him, then brought it up to his neck. He closed his eyes and lifted his chin, not flinching. She held the blade there for a long moment, but then brought it away, leaving only a slight smear of blood on his fur. The blood of the fox that he had just killed, and not his own. \"Fine. I will do this. I will kill that bastard and anyone that stands in my way.\" She lowered the blade, but still gripped it tight. \"And then I will come back here and cut your heart out.\" She turned to the necromancer. \"I need armour.\"\n\nGathi nodded. \"I have already prepared some for you. Fitting for a death knight.\" She chuckled as she moved over to the chest she had the armor stashed inside. \"You will strike terror in all that see you before you strike them down.\"\n\nThe tigress tilted her head. \"Why did you agree to this, hag? What to you gain from my revenge?\"\n\nThe raccoon cackled. \"Revenge of my own. The man sitting on the throne killed two of my sisters. I wish him dead and his legacy in ruins. You will serve me well for this. And when your revenge is complete, your soul will be free.\" She set down the armour. \"Now. Don your armour and slaughter everyone that opposes you!\"\n\n[center]* * *[/center]\n\nAnna strode down the main street of the city, making a direct line straight to the entrance of the palace. High walls surrounded the palace itself, with its large courtyard out front contained within. She knew almost all the secret ways in and out of the place, as she had served as a knight guarding the place for most of her life. But she was not trying to sneak. She felt no need. As she strode with purpose, civilians backed away in fear from her, clearing the pathway for her. She did not blame them, and in some part of her mind, was grateful they did not get in her way. She would not stand for anything stopping her.\n\nShe also understood their fear. The armor she wore now was frightening. Not the old shining plate she used to wear. What she wore now was blacker than shadow, obsidian in hue and sheen. Leathers covered her torso with chain just visible under it, leaving her agile and mobile. Metal pauldrons sat on her shoulders, each with red spikes upon them. Her legs similarly had the black metal covering them. Flowing down her back was a crimson cape, the bottom flared like the wings of a bat. The pattern of an arcane symbol stood out on the cape, the same as circle she had been resurrected within. It did not do anything magically, but it seemed to make those that viewed it uneasy, as if they knew what the purpose for it was subconsciously.\n\nMost terrifying was her face. Left with no helmet or hood, the white tigress held the look of a woman on a warpath, which she was. Her silver hair hung loose, flowing in the same unnatural breeze that left her cape billowing as she strode. But it was her eyes that were the most unnerving. Burning red coals of anger and malice set in black gems. And she did not blink or breathe. She did not need to do either anymore. At her hip was her sword, her hand resting on the handle with an idle ease that made it clear she was not only ready, but eager to draw it at the slightest provocation.\n\nHer face was also known. She had been a knight for a long time in this very city. And her death had been a very public and bloody affair, her severed head left on display outside of the palace she now strode towards. So that this dead woman now walked through as a demon of barely contained fury was enough to make any flee to their nearest hole to hide in. Most. The guards were not so lucky. As she approached, she saw the two men standing in front of the gate to the walls look at each other nervously. When she got closer, one of them called out. \"H-halt! You may not enter!\"\n\nShe looked at the rat, her fingers closing around the handle of her sword. \"I will not be stopped. Move or be moved.\" Her voice was calm, but hard, with an edge sharp enough to cut. It was the only warning she would give.\n\nThe did not heed it. \"You are not allowed entry!\" The rat pointed a spear at her, though it shook in his hand. He knew her. He had been there in her final fight, a survivor of the bloodbath. He had been there in the courtyard. One of many that defiled her body. \"T-turn back n-\" She did not let him finish his words. Her sword slid free of its sheath and cut upwards in one fluid motion. The blade cut through his chest with such ease it was as if he was not there. She cut deep, a killing blow in one strike. His body shuddered once before crumpling in a burst of blood.\n\nThe other guard stared at her in horror. Then he shouted. \"INTRUDER!\" The man jabbed his spear forward at her. She barely had to move for it to miss her completely, her sword coming around under his guard and jamming up into his chest, the tip poking out of his back. A clean cut through his heart. He let out a terrified whimper, and she saw the dog give her a fearful look before his eyes rolled back. She withdrew the sword again, letting his body fall to the ground. Inside the walls, others started shouting. Behind her, the civilians shrieked in fear, fleeing away from the sudden display of violence before them. This was only the beginning.\n\nThe gate still stood shut, barring her entry. For a moment, she debated kicking it down, but it might take time. Instead, she looked up at the high stone wall in front of her. Without hesitation, she crouched, then leapt straight up, launching herself near 15 meters in the air, sailing clear over the wall. Her cape and hair flowed behind her as gravity grabbed hold of her again, and she fell again. She landed on her feet, with enough force that there was an echoing thud in the courtyard around her. To observers, it was as if she had been launched by a catapult, and suffered none of the injuries such a fall should have inflicted.\n\nThe shouting grew more wild, and a bell started to ring somewhere deeper inside. She saw the mass of bodies starting to move in front of her, guards rushing forward, servants running away. She felt a grin spread on her face, her hand gripping her sword harder. As the first of the guards charged at her, she lunged into battle. Her sword flashed this way and that, each swing cutting through flesh. A swing to the right, a cat's head tumbled off of its shoulders. A slash downwards, a dog's chest burst open in a spray of blood. A jab forward, she stabbed through a badger's chest. She pulled the blade free and arced the move fluidly into another swing, cleaving through the belly of a weasel, his guts spilling free as he fell to the dirt and screamed in agony. She did him the mercy of ending his life by stabbing down through his skull.\n\nArrows started to fly at her. She could almost see the path they would take with senses heightened beyond the skills she already had. She dodged most by simply stepping forward and tilting her body this way and that. As another rat charged at her, spear at the ready, she simply lashed her hand out and grabbed him by his face, yanking him in front of her. Three arrows suddenly impacted into his back, and he let out a whimper of pain and fear. She planted her foot down and turned slightly to throw the man to the side. He impacted a stone wall hard enough that there was a crunch, and he fell to the ground limp.\n\nSeveral of the arrows did impact her, though. Two struck her chest, embedding deep into her. Another struck her belly, and one bounced off the metal on her right thigh. She simply looked down at them, pulling the one in her belly out and staring at it. Black blood dripped off of the tip. She looked up at the archer that had fired the shot, seeing the horror in the vixen's gaze as she knocked another arrow. It had barely been loosed by the time Anna was suddenly upon her, lunging forward with blinding speed. The vixen cried out in fear, only for that cry to end in a bloody gurgle as the sword cut through her neck. It was not a full decapitation. She let the woman fall to the floor, grasping at her throat as blood poured on the stone floor, writhing her last.\n\nMore guards approached. Not just guards, but some of the knights had gotten themselves ready and armoured by now. Two guards were cut down easily, then her sword clashed with a knight's. The man standing in front of her was a badger, his teeth grit at her. \"I know you, demon. I will send you back to the hell you crawled out of!\"\n\nShe also knew him. \"Rodrick.\" His eyes widened as she spoke his name, her voice growled and hissing. \"I know you, too.\" She struck again, but he parried, if just barely. Despite her sword being deflected, he winced, the blow so hard it left his hands aching. \"Murderer turned mercenary. Mercenary turned rebel. Rebel turned knight.\" She parried his blow this time with ease. \"You think wearing colours means you are above the law now? That your sins would not come back to haunt you?\" She grinned as he tried to attack again, but she only had to dodge it this time. \"I know your seed was one of the many that fell upon my corpse.\"\n\nShe did not know how she knew all this. Some part of the magic that had revived her. She knew every person that had defiled her body. If she tried to remember, she could feel the hands, the cocks, the mouths upon her. She could taste the seed, smell each scent left on her as she rot on the display. She knew their names, their voices, their scents. They surrounded her now, each one a target to be cut down, a retribution to be delivered. And the more the thoughts of those memories reverberated in her mind, the more her fury rose.\n\nRodrick tried to attack again, but she moved closer, bringing her sword up under his guard. The tip struck the soft part at his armpit where no metal covered, sliding into the flesh. With a hard yank upwards, she cut through flesh and bone in one, severing his arm cleanly at his shoulder in a gush of blood. The man screamed in agony as his sword arm fell away to the floor, leaving him grasping at the bloody hole where it had been. She stepped forward and jammed her sword into that same bloody stump, stabbing down into his body through the gap. Blood splashed out of his mouth as she carved through a lung and several other vital organs. She rose a foot up and planted it on his side, shoving him down as she pulled the blade free. The badger crumpled to the ground, gurgling and coughing blood. She could have granted him a mercy kill, like she had so many others... but she wanted him to suffer. His death was assured eventually, so she moved on.\n\nThe other knight that had come out was a woman. She did not know this one. A horse wielding a great sword. Anna brought her own sword up, the blade red from the blood... though the old green hue of the metal had shifted more crimson as well. \"I know you not. Step aside and let me pass.\"\n\nThe horse held her ground. \"I am Lady Beatrice Grayson, a knight of Kirkonia! I will not back down to an unholy abomination such as you! Not after you have slain so many!\"\n\n\"Kirkonia.\" Anna scoffed, gripping her sword tighter. \"What a farce. A knight to a tyrant usurper. You had your chance.\" The two warrior women stared each other down. It was Beatrice that struck first, swinging her massive blade down. It was slow, and Anna was easily able to step back to avoid it. But that was a feint, the mare in better control of the weapon than she initially let on. The downward swing was suddenly changed into a forward thrust, the sword piercing through the tigress' abdomen. The blow was not halted there. The mare yanked the blade back upwards, cutting a deep gash through Anna's belly and up through her chest, splitting her open from hip to shoulder.\n\nAnna did not flinch. She simply tilted her head as black blood oozed out of the wound. Her armour had split open, exposing the pale fur, her left breast falling free as the leather slid away. The mare's eyes went wide as what should have been a lethal blow started to close back up again right before her very eyes, soon looking as if it had never happened in the first place. \"What... are you!?\"\n\nThe tigress gave her a wild, almost feral grin of sadistic glee. \"Exactly what you said. An unholy abomination.\" She stepped forward, her sword raised again.\n\nThe mare backed away in fear, dropping her own weapon. \"Stay back! Oh, gods... I yield!\"\n\n\"I gave you a chance to yield.\" She suddenly lunged forward, plunging her blade into the mare's chest, piercing straight through her. Blood splashed from the woman's mouth out onto Anna's face. \"I have no mercy for any knight of this farcical nation.\" She shifted the blade, getting a groan of pain from the woman, but no scream. She had cut through too deeply for her to have breath anymore. \"Your false king will join you soon, Beatrice Grayson.\" She pulled the sword free again, letting the mare slump to the floor to continue bleeding out. In her old life, she would have shown her mercy. Would have given her a warrior's death. Now, she let the woman die in her shame as she moved on into the palace itself.\n\n[center]* * *[/center]\n\nThe undead knight made her way through the palace as an unholy force of nature. It was not only guards and knights that she cut down, but anyone that crossed her path. Several servants had tried to flee, only to end up cut down in the halls with no mercy. Her kills were getting less clean as she went. No longer delivering quick killing blows, but leaving many with wounds that, while still fatal, would leave them in agony for minutes or even hours. Some were still quick kills, but not kind. One servant had been cut in half at the waist, two halves falling to the floor. One knight was left with his spine severed at mid-back, bleeding out slowly, but alive for his agonized screams to echo through the halls.\n\nThen she encountered the mages just outside of the king's chambers. It seemed 'king' Kirkonus kept them as his personal guards. She rounded the corner, only to be struck by a blast of lightning. The arcs of blue energy coursed over her body, making her fur stand on end and her muscles tremble and shiver. Lightning magic had been a particular weakness of hers the last time she had fought through the palace, at the time defending it against invaders. It had slowed her reflexes down enough that she took several blows that slowed her further, all leading to her eventual demise.\n\nThis time, she felt her muscles shake, but no pain from it. She still felt what should have been pain, but it was not something debilitating, more of a minor inconvenience. It was not lessened, either, it simply did not seem to matter anymore. So as three more bolts of lightning struck her, she did little more than flinch and shrug it off. Tilting her head up, her eyes burned at the trio of robed mages in front of her. \"My turn!\" She held out a hand, grabbing hold of a darkness in the air. She once had the ability to use low level magic in life. Holy magic. That was lost to her now in her undead state.\n\nInstead, she pulled at the blood on the floor. Pools of crimson lifted into the air on their own, globs of thick vital essence under her control. They formed into a myriad of sharp spikes, as if hardening into icicles in the air. With a wave of her hand, she threw them all. Dozens of blood-spears flew past her down the hall, each striking one of the mages. The trio cried out in pain as they were pierced over and over by the dark magic. One slammed back against the wall as he was riddled with the spikes. Another simply fell over as one pierced through his eyes and out the back of his skull. The last was left in tatters, crumpling to the floor and wheezing weakly. He would die soon enough. She had no fear of him healing himself. The blood magic prevented the wounds from healing, poisoning his own blood in the process. He would die in agony, his own blood killing him just as quickly as it flowed out of his body.\n\nShe turned to the large door that barred her way into the chamber. Kirkonus was inside. She could smell him. Hear his breathing. He was oddly calm in there. And he was alone. Perhaps he thought to take her alone. \"Arrogant.\" She kicked the door open, the heavy wood not swinging open as much as being knocked completely off of its hinges. It flew back, slamming against the far wall and cracking in half, falling to the floor in two pieces.\n\nThen a crossbow bolt struck her exposed belly. A flaming bolt, her fur catching in an instant. \"I could say the same of you.\" The king spoke, reloading his crossbow. He watched as the flames rapidly spread to engulf the woman. \"Did you think I wouldn't have read up on how to kill an undead? Cut off the head. Burn them with fire. Bury them at a crossroads and salt the earth above them. I'll admit, I'm lacking holy water or the magic to make it, but I have fire.\" Anna was trying to bat at the flames as they spread over her. It did not hurt, but she could feel her flesh charring and burning away. Another bolt struck, hitting her exposed breast and spreading the flames faster.\n\nAnna fell backwards into the hallway, trying to roll to put out the flames, but they lingered upon her, spreading to burn the leathers covering her as much as her flesh. She did not scream, though. She did not feel the need to, despite the panic that he may have found a way to stop her getting her revenge. She would not give him that satisfaction. Kirkonus stepped out of the chambers to follow her. The wolverine was dressed in the raiment of his position, dark blue with gold filigree in a vine-like pattern. A small circlet wrapped around his head, the kind of crown one could wear into battle.\n\nHe looked down at the woman rolling and writhing on the floor. \"I guess I really pissed you off if you came back just to kill me, huh?\" He chuckled. His foot bumped against her sword, having been dropped when she fell to the ground. He crouched down, picking it up. It looked a little different than he remembered. The blade was a crimson red, the vines and leaves more like thorns. But it was definitely her sword. \"As for cutting your head off. Well, I'll be happy to do that again.\" He gripped the sword in his hand tighter. \"I'll even use the same weapon to do it. Your weapon. I think that's pretty fitting, don't you?\"\n\nShe opened her eyes and stared up at him. \"Poor chose of weapons!\" The wolverine's own eyes went wide, but he was too slow to react. He cried out in pain as the sword responded to her call. Spikes suddenly shot out of the handle, piercing through the man's hands. He flinched away in pain, the sword dropping to the ground. He looked at his hands, seeing them bloody and mangled. Then his eyes went wide as the woman stood up, still completely engulfed in flames. He opened his mouth, but could not even let out a plea before her hand shot out, punching straight through his chest. He tasted blood in his mouth as his back slammed against the wall behind him. He also felt her fingers inside of his body, moving deliberately to clutch at his wildly beating heart. It felt like cold snakes coiling around inside of him.\n\nThen he felt a new kind of pain, her claws jamming into the muscle in her grip. It still beat wildly, leaking blood deep inside of him in ways it shouldn't. Then something cold crept over him. The blood did not just drool out of him, but started to flow up her arm. The thick, red liquid coated her fur, traveling higher until it started to coat all of her body, dousing the flames. Kirkonus opened his mouth to try and scream, but nothing came out of him. His body started to shudder and tremble, then start to shrivel as she drew his blood out more quickly. His limbs seemed to deflate, his clothing no longer fitting properly. His circlet tilted as even his head seemed to shrink a little. Anna watched as the man almost rapidly aged right in front of him, his blood seeping out more and more to cover her fur.\n\nOnce all the flames were out, and her fur was stained red, she finally ended the man. She gripped the heart in her hand harder, feeling it weakly trying to beat. She tore it free, ripping her hand back out of his chest. His flesh and bones had become brittle from the draining blood magic, and the hole in his chest cracked even wider. His body fell to the floor as she held his heart. It gave one more weak attempt to beat, then just trembled for a second. She clenched her fist, turning the muscle into pulp and mush.\n\nShe stared down at the dead usurper, his circlet crown having fallen away. He was the last one to kill that she knew was here. The last man that had to die for her revenge... almost. There was one more left, but she would savor this moment. She reached down and gripped the dead wolverine's head. With a yank, she ripped it off of his shoulders with ease. The head already looked desiccated and half-mummified from the drained blood. She tucked it under one arm, reaching to grab her sword beside him. She also noticed how it had seemed to change its form. It suited her, displaying just as demonic as she had been. She was about to slide it back into the scabbard when she realized she did not have that on her anymore. Or much of anything. The flames had burned most of her armor away, leaving only a few bits of metal on her otherwise naked body. One of the pauldrons had fallen off, and the metal on her legs sat limp. She kicked the leggings off, letting the last pauldron fall away as well. She had no need to hide her body. She felt no shame from it.\n\nHer exit of the palace was much swifter and less bloody than her entry had been. Namely because those she had not killed had fled. She stepped over bodies, still hearing several moaning in pain. She left them to die in the halls. Nothing could save them, and she had no desire to deliver mercy, even to the servants and slaves. She strode out into the courtyard, looking around at the bloody mess she had left in her wake. Setting her sword down on the ground, she picked up a spear and jammed it into the dirt. She then rammed Kirkonus' head onto the upper shaft. She grunted as she left him on display in the same way she had been.\n\nShe heard a coughing behind her and turned. She saw the horse from earlier. \"You still live.\"\n\nBeatrice had moved to sit on the grounds, her back leaning against a wall. Her armour had been pulled away to leave her half-exposed. A burn mark charred her flesh where Anna has stabbed her. She had cauterized the wound using the flame from a nearby brazier. \"You... aimed well...\" She coughed, only to grunt and wince. \"Why not hit... my heart? You were only... only a breath away...\"\n\nAnna stared at her. She did not have an answer. She had been fully willing to let the woman die. \"You have honour.\" She turned away. \"Do not come for me. I go to my rest. Instead, live and tell the tale of what happens to those that would usurp as a tyrant. Do not make me come back here again.\" She took a step, then stopped. \"And name the kingdom something new. Kirkonia was a lie.\" She heard a wet chuckle from the mare, which only made her cough all the more. She walked away once more, leaving her former home in shambles.\n\n[center]* * *[/center]\n\nThe door to the hut burst open, Anna stepping inside. She was still just as naked as she had been hours before, not bothering to cover any of herself as she walked through the swamp. Gathi smiled as the woman stepped inside. \"See. I told you she would return soon.\"\n\nTelios nodded. He had been sitting on a very uncomfortable wooden chair in silence for almost the entire time. Once Anna stepped in, he rose to his feet. \"You did.\" He looked to the tigress. \"Is it done?\"\n\nAnna's fiery gaze turned to him. \"You doubt me?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"No. I only mourn for those that were foolish enough to stand in front of you.\" He saw just how much blood had been stained into her fur. She was almost more red than white now. \"But you have one last to slay that wronged you.\" She nodded. \"Very well.\" He reached up and started to unfasten the clasps of his armor. His cape fell away, then his plate slid down, set to the floor. Last was his jerkin, opened and pulled off, leaving his chest fully exposed and unprotected. He stepped forward, his arms open. \"Do it.\"\n\nShe stared at him for a long moment. \"You will not resist?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"No. I deserve this. I betrayed you and my kingdom, and reaped benefits from it. But the regret haunts me like a spectre. It is only fitting that the spectre is my end.\"\n\nShe stared at him for another long moment, then stepped forward to stand directly in front of him. She could feel his breath puffing onto her face. He felt no such breath from her. \"Answer me one last question. Did you ever love me, or was that a lie, too?\"\n\nThe stag winced, but forced himself not to look away, meeting her hard gaze. \"I loved you with all my heart, my dearest Anna. That was never a lie.\"\n\nShe nodded. \"Very well.\" She stepped closer to him. He closed his eyes, only to tense up when he felt not a blade, but her lips touch him. She pressed her mouth to his in a deep kiss. And he returned it, his arms hesitantly moving around to hold her against him. He kept his eyes closed, feeling tears starting to run from them. It was then that he felt the blade. It touched his chest and slid into him with a slow, almost gently ease. It quickly pierced into his heart, cleaving it in half while she held him close. He still kissed against her, accepting this death.\n\nShe felt him tremble only once, then his arms fell away. She let him fall backwards, only then breaking the kiss. His body slid off of her blade, slumping to the ground at her feet. He was dead. The last man she had to kill. Her betrayer. And she felt... unsatisfied. She closed her eyes, realizing she couldn't cry. But she wanted to. \"Bastard... even in death you rob me of my last desire...\"\n\nGathi tilted her head. \"Something wrong, my dear? That is the last one you needed to kill, right?\"\n\nShe nodded. \"Yes.\" She turned to the raccoon necromancer. \"My task is done. Set me free. Let me rest.\"\n\n\"Rest?\" Gathi tilted her head. \"I never said anything about letting you rest. You are free of my control, that is all I promised.\"\n\n\"[b]What!?[/b]\"\n\nThe mage held up her gnarled hands. \"Now now, I never lied to you. Or to him.\" She chuckled. \"And before you start turning that anger on me, I have an offer for you.\"\n\nAnna frowned at her. \"Speak quickly or you will share his fate.\"\n\n\"You would not be able to. I am still a necromancer.\" She chuckled, holding her hand up as Anna angrily stepped forward. \"Now hold on. That is not a threat.\"\n\n\"[b][i]Speak your offer, witch![/i][/b]\" She shouted so loud it echoed around the room.\n\n\"Of course.\" She cleared her throat. \"You have three options. First, you can walk out that door and find your own way. Free from my control, but an immortal undead, cursed to walk alone for all time. Second option: I can give you that rest. You would serve me for a time. No more than a century. Do my bidding, kill those that need killing, and then afterwards you could rest once more, never to rise again. It would be a pact, and those cannot be broken, so you need not fear another betrayal.\"\n\nAnna tilted her head, still feeling her anger. \"You said there was a third option.\"\n\nGathi nodded. \"Yes. But it is more another alternative to the first.\" She motioned to the dead stag. \"You can bring him back. There are enough souls lingering in that blade of yours that I can still use them. His love for you was true, and yours for him. Would you be willing to curse him with your immortal unlife to keep that love?\"\n\nShe looked at Telios. Could she do that? She did love him, and in that last moment of his life, she felt his love for her. She knew that was no lie. But immortality was... a burden. And they would not truly be alive anymore. \"How long do I have to choose?\"\n\nThe raccoon tilted her head back and forth. \"Eh... the first two will remain as long as I am alive. And I do plan to stay alive for a long time. But the third you must choose now. His soul was released willingly, and it will not linger long. So make your choice. Bring back the love you have just slain and live forever with him as undead, free of any control. Or walk away now, free of any control, immortal alone for all time. Or serve me for a time, and find your rest at the end of your servitude. Who knows, you might even find yourself reunited with him... but it is unlikely with what you have just done. And not just you, his own sins may keep him from you, as well.\"\n\nAnna stepped over, looking down at Telios. These were her only options. She knew it. She had no desire to serve anyone, especially a crazy old witch in the swamps. She knew she would be used as a tool for murder and evil. Could she really spent eternity alone? That seemed like a curse. But could she curse her love to suffer it with her? It was a selfish desire, but he did love her, and they could be together. But undead. She closed her eyes, letting herself weigh each option as best she could. It was not a light choice to make.\n\nShe stood motionless, a statue of indecision. Eventually, she opened her eyes. Turning to the necromancer, she spoke. \"I have made my decision.\"\n\n[center]* * *[/center]", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "
Knightly Revenge

By XP Author


Telios trudged forward down the muddy path that barely counted as a road. The sounds of swamp life all around him as the stag walked through the thick trees, the humidity almost oppressive around him. He stood out among the overgrown wilderness. Not just his stature, tall and muscular, or his antlers, standing proud and prominent atop his head. It was his attire that stood out the most. It was not very often that a general walked through these woods. Bandits and brigands were a far more frequent sight in such a place. His steel armour shined, clanking with every step. His red cape hung heavy from the damp air, his cloak left down, his head uncovered. Despite the darkness of night and the deep shadows of the gnarled trees, he walked with determination. He knew his destination, even having only visited it twice before.

He was also not alone. Walking beside him was a young fox, barely a man. Jarris was skinny, his clothing little more than rags. The travel cloak fit him poorly, but it let him clutch it around himself, even if it did little to keep him from shivering. Despite the humidity, the air felt unnaturally cold the deeper they walked. The young man glanced at the general, then back at the large bag the man carried with him. He had no idea what was in so large a sack. It reminded him of the kind that brought various vegetables to the kitchen. He had been a slave at the palace, assigned to do menial tasks such as skin potatoes or clean the floors. He was not strong enough to do much more, and only getting weaker by the day thanks to his illness.

Soon, a dim light appeared in the distance. As it got brighter, the fox recognized it as a single lantern, hanging by a post. It barely illuminated the tiny building beyond. A small, ramshackle hut made of crooked logs, just off balance enough to be noticeable to the naked eye, and half-overgrown by moss and vines. It was as if the swamp were trying to claim it as its own and drag it below the surface. "That is our destination." The fox jumped as he heard the general's voice for the first time in hours. "Ready yourself... and thank you."

The fox nodded. "Thank you, sir, for choosing me." He knew only part of what was going to happen. The most important part involving him, at least. He had gotten to see outside of not only the palace's lower chambers, but outside of the city itself for the first time. That was a gift to a slave.

Telios still winced a little. But he could not turn back. He stepped to the door, setting the sack over his shoulder down gently, as if whatever was inside might break at too hard a jostle. He knocked on the door hard. "It is I, Telios, General of Kirkonia. I have returned, mage." He said the last word almost as if it were an insult.

There was sound from inside, a voice calling out. A moment later, the crude door opened with a creaking sound, revealing the occupant. An old, gaunt raccoon that looked like she was somehow both centuries old, but full of vibrant youth. Her hair was shockingly silver, but wispy, hanging down almost to her tail like fog rolling off of her head. Her fur was scruffy but thick, a mix of black, brown, and greys. Her eyes were black as coal, and not just the irises, as if there were black holes where her eyes should be, and yet still clear to see where her gaze fell. It currently fell upon the two standing before her, a smile spreading on her mouth almost unnaturally wide. "Ah. Good. Good." Her gaze turned to look at the fox, and he flinched in response, not hiding how unnerved she made him. "Very well. Come in." She returned inside.

Telios picked the sack back up, looking at Jarris. "Come. Follow." He had to duck down to enter the doorway, the fox following close behind him. The inside of the hut was impossibly large for how small it looked from the outside. It was like stepping into a carriage and finding yourself in a cathedral. The walls were still somewhat dilapidated, the floor made of one massive slab of rough stone, as if it had been carved out of the ground and the house built around it. There was a fireplace to one side, a cauldron sitting beside it, empty for now.

Jarris flinched as the raccoon was suddenly so close to him she was practically touching. She peered at him with her beady, black eyes. "This is the one you have chosen? The soul of innocence?"

Telios nodded. "Yes. He is a slave from the palace, and has never known a life other than that."

She nodded, stepping away with a speed that surprised the fox with how old she appeared to be. "And you are willing to sacrifice this boy?" She looked at the boy. "And you are willing to be sacrificed?"

Jarris nodded slowly. "Yes, Madam."

She smiled at him again. "Gathgaranis. You may call me Gathi."

He nodded again, but could not shake the unsettling feeling as she stared at him. "Yes, Madam Gathi. I am... already short for this world. My illness will claim me in weeks or months, but I will not live to see the next year. So if my life may aid the General in some way, then... I give it willingly and... and freely." He felt a sense of empowerment in that moment. As a slave, his life had never been his own. So this was another gift the stag had granted him.

Gathi grunted. "So noble." She turned to Telios. "And you brought the rest I asked?" He nodded to her. "Very well. Set it all upon the circle there." She pointed to a spot on the floor, an elaborate pattern having been drawn there. Jarris was not sure how he didn't see it before, as if it just appeared from nowhere as soon as she pointed at it.

Telios nodded again. "Of course." He moved over to the circle, careful not to smudge any of it as he stepped into the center and set the bag down. He opened it, and started to pull from it bones. Most of the bones looked like they had been left to rot a long time ago, some still had what was left of the old flesh hanging from them, almost mummified. He gently laid all he could out onto the floor, assembling them roughly into the shape of a person. The last he brought out was the desiccated skull of a tiger, the eyes long gone, the teeth exposed, and with a massive hole in the top where it had been left on a spike for months. He gently set it down with the rest, then stepped back out of the circle.

As he drew a sword, the raccoon waved her hand. "Keep that. You'll need it." She then shambled over to the circle, kneeling down at the edge. "You, boy." She pointed at the fox. "Get to the edge of the circle and face the bones. And remove the cloak. It will only be in the way."

Jarris nodded, doing as he was asked. "Yes, Madam, Gathi." He moved where she had told him, taking his travel cloak off and gently setting it down on the floor at his feet. "Here?"

She smiled. "Yes. That will do." She looked to Telios. "You know what to do... General." Much like he had done with the term mage, the way she said his title was almost an insult.

The stag nodded. "Yes. I do." He gripped the sword tighter in his hand as he moved behind Jarris. The sword was very ornate, the blade long and sharp, tinted very slightly green. The guard had patterns of leaves upon it. It had belonged to someone else, though he was the one who gifted it to her. Someone he respected. Someone he loved. Someone he had betrayed and aided in the murder of. And now, it would be used to murder again, for the sake of righting the worst wrong of his life. He brought the sword up and around. "Thank you, Jarris." He pressed the blade to the man's throat and cut quickly.

Blood started to spray the moment the wound was opened. The fox's breath caught, then only a gurgle came from him. He reached up to grasp at his throat, his blood still splashing out between his fingers. Even knowing this was to be his fate, he had never expected just what it would feel like. Panic overtook him, his instinct to survive overriding his acceptance of his death. Yet he still fell to his knees as his strength rapidly left him. The blood poured out of the man's neck, splashing onto the ground within the circle... and moved of its own accord. It flowed outward along the floor, as if alive. It seeped forward, until it flowed onto the bones, rapidly starting to coat them in crimson.

Telios stepped back, still gripping the blade in his hand as he watched the foul necromancy at work. The fox fell forward as the blood seemed to almost be pulled out of him now, draining the man's body so completely he almost seemed to shrivel. He gave a silent apology to the boy. He had not just taken his life, but let this necromancer use his very soul as fuel for the dark magics at play. The blood flowed out around the bones, filling in the gaps between them, mending those with chips or breaks, then coating around, quickly forming the shape of a body again. Flesh started to form rapidly, muscle and sinew lacing together before his very eyes. Fur started to grow as the skin reformed. It was a ghostly white, with pale tiger stripes. The face filled in, until he could recognize the woman once more.

The whole process took only minutes, and soon, he was staring at her again. Anna. The tigress that he had trained for years. The woman he had loved. The person he had betrayed. He almost flinched as her eyes snapped open, but there was no gasp of breath. She sat up unnaturally fast, and he saw her eyes were crimson as they stared down at her hands. "I am... alive?"

Gathi chuckled slowly as she looked at the naked tigress. "Not quite, my dear fallen knight. You were slain, and now you are whole again." She motioned to the stag. "Brought back thanks to him."

Anna turned to see Telios. Her confusion was replaced by a sudden, burning, overwhelming rage. "YOU!" The word was shouted with such a fury that it felt like hell itself spoke it. Perhaps it did. She was suddenly on her feet, charging at him with blinding speed. Her hand lashed out, grasping his neck, so hard it lifted him off of his feet, armor and all. "You! You murdered me!"

He struggled against his own instinct to fight her. "Yes..." It was true.

"You should let the man explain before you end him." Gathi spoke softly, and yet her voice carried a commanding essence that compelled the undead tigress to obey.

She set the man back down on his hooves, though her claws still scratched at his throat as she removed her hand. "Speak quickly, traitor."

"Y-yes..." He explained as best he could. Several years ago, he had betrayed not only her, but his own nation. The former queen had been a tyrant, so at the time, he had thought it was the only choice to make, and he had tried everything to stop her from being involved. But she was a knight through and through, fighting to defend her queen to the bitter end. A better knight than he ever was. He had fallen in league with rebels, aided their attack on the palace, and let them slay the queen... and Anna's head was taken in the end as well. They had displayed her for a long time outside of the palace, then dumped her into a pit. He had collected her bones and given her as proper a burial as he could, though her grave was unmarked. Her skull had to be added later, once it was finally removed from the spike display.

"The queen was a tyrant, and I thought it was the only way." His eyes were cast down, his shoulders slumped. "I wished so much you would have run with me... but you had too much honour. Far more than I." He closed his eyes. "And it was all for nothing. Kirkonus... he crowned himself king, and has been more a tyrant than the old queen ever was. He lets slavers buy his ear, taxes the people beyond their limit, and has ruled by martial law these past years. The people suffer under him and his kind. Any knight of honour left years ago..."

She reached out to grip the edge of his cape, the symbol of his rank. "And yet you stayed?" Her tone was accusing.

He nodded, knowing the real meaning of her words. No knight of honour remained, yet he did. "I stayed in the hope that it might keep him from falling into tyrany, but all I have done is barely hold him back from causing war... but I fear that, too, is beyond my capabilities."

Anna scoffed. "So you not only threw away everything you had, but you only made things even worse anyway?" He flinched, but nodded. "You should have fallen on your sword." She crossed her arms over her chest, still not seeming to care that she was completely naked in front of him. "This isn't making me want to kill you any less. If anything, I want to rip out your heart even more."

He nodded, bringing his hand up and holding out the sword to her. "Then you can do just that. But I ask that you save the kingdom that I have ruined. Not for me. But the people you once swore an oath to need someone to deal with the tyrant on the throne. The tyrant I put there in my ignorance. So please. Kill Kirkonus. If not for the people, for revenge against the man who took your head and defiled your body. If you do this, I care not what you do to me. I deserve your wrath and more."

Anna looked at the sword. She reached out and took it from him, then brought it up to his neck. He closed his eyes and lifted his chin, not flinching. She held the blade there for a long moment, but then brought it away, leaving only a slight smear of blood on his fur. The blood of the fox that he had just killed, and not his own. "Fine. I will do this. I will kill that bastard and anyone that stands in my way." She lowered the blade, but still gripped it tight. "And then I will come back here and cut your heart out." She turned to the necromancer. "I need armour."

Gathi nodded. "I have already prepared some for you. Fitting for a death knight." She chuckled as she moved over to the chest she had the armor stashed inside. "You will strike terror in all that see you before you strike them down."

The tigress tilted her head. "Why did you agree to this, hag? What to you gain from my revenge?"

The raccoon cackled. "Revenge of my own. The man sitting on the throne killed two of my sisters. I wish him dead and his legacy in ruins. You will serve me well for this. And when your revenge is complete, your soul will be free." She set down the armour. "Now. Don your armour and slaughter everyone that opposes you!"

*     *     *


Anna strode down the main street of the city, making a direct line straight to the entrance of the palace. High walls surrounded the palace itself, with its large courtyard out front contained within. She knew almost all the secret ways in and out of the place, as she had served as a knight guarding the place for most of her life. But she was not trying to sneak. She felt no need. As she strode with purpose, civilians backed away in fear from her, clearing the pathway for her. She did not blame them, and in some part of her mind, was grateful they did not get in her way. She would not stand for anything stopping her.

She also understood their fear. The armor she wore now was frightening. Not the old shining plate she used to wear. What she wore now was blacker than shadow, obsidian in hue and sheen. Leathers covered her torso with chain just visible under it, leaving her agile and mobile. Metal pauldrons sat on her shoulders, each with red spikes upon them. Her legs similarly had the black metal covering them. Flowing down her back was a crimson cape, the bottom flared like the wings of a bat. The pattern of an arcane symbol stood out on the cape, the same as circle she had been resurrected within. It did not do anything magically, but it seemed to make those that viewed it uneasy, as if they knew what the purpose for it was subconsciously.

Most terrifying was her face. Left with no helmet or hood, the white tigress held the look of a woman on a warpath, which she was. Her silver hair hung loose, flowing in the same unnatural breeze that left her cape billowing as she strode. But it was her eyes that were the most unnerving. Burning red coals of anger and malice set in black gems. And she did not blink or breathe. She did not need to do either anymore. At her hip was her sword, her hand resting on the handle with an idle ease that made it clear she was not only ready, but eager to draw it at the slightest provocation.

Her face was also known. She had been a knight for a long time in this very city. And her death had been a very public and bloody affair, her severed head left on display outside of the palace she now strode towards. So that this dead woman now walked through as a demon of barely contained fury was enough to make any flee to their nearest hole to hide in. Most. The guards were not so lucky. As she approached, she saw the two men standing in front of the gate to the walls look at each other nervously. When she got closer, one of them called out. "H-halt! You may not enter!"

She looked at the rat, her fingers closing around the handle of her sword. "I will not be stopped. Move or be moved." Her voice was calm, but hard, with an edge sharp enough to cut. It was the only warning she would give.

The did not heed it. "You are not allowed entry!" The rat pointed a spear at her, though it shook in his hand. He knew her. He had been there in her final fight, a survivor of the bloodbath. He had been there in the courtyard. One of many that defiled her body. "T-turn back n-" She did not let him finish his words. Her sword slid free of its sheath and cut upwards in one fluid motion. The blade cut through his chest with such ease it was as if he was not there. She cut deep, a killing blow in one strike. His body shuddered once before crumpling in a burst of blood.

The other guard stared at her in horror. Then he shouted. "INTRUDER!" The man jabbed his spear forward at her. She barely had to move for it to miss her completely, her sword coming around under his guard and jamming up into his chest, the tip poking out of his back. A clean cut through his heart. He let out a terrified whimper, and she saw the dog give her a fearful look before his eyes rolled back. She withdrew the sword again, letting his body fall to the ground. Inside the walls, others started shouting. Behind her, the civilians shrieked in fear, fleeing away from the sudden display of violence before them. This was only the beginning.

The gate still stood shut, barring her entry. For a moment, she debated kicking it down, but it might take time. Instead, she looked up at the high stone wall in front of her. Without hesitation, she crouched, then leapt straight up, launching herself near 15 meters in the air, sailing clear over the wall. Her cape and hair flowed behind her as gravity grabbed hold of her again, and she fell again. She landed on her feet, with enough force that there was an echoing thud in the courtyard around her. To observers, it was as if she had been launched by a catapult, and suffered none of the injuries such a fall should have inflicted.

The shouting grew more wild, and a bell started to ring somewhere deeper inside. She saw the mass of bodies starting to move in front of her, guards rushing forward, servants running away. She felt a grin spread on her face, her hand gripping her sword harder. As the first of the guards charged at her, she lunged into battle. Her sword flashed this way and that, each swing cutting through flesh. A swing to the right, a cat's head tumbled off of its shoulders. A slash downwards, a dog's chest burst open in a spray of blood. A jab forward, she stabbed through a badger's chest. She pulled the blade free and arced the move fluidly into another swing, cleaving through the belly of a weasel, his guts spilling free as he fell to the dirt and screamed in agony. She did him the mercy of ending his life by stabbing down through his skull.

Arrows started to fly at her. She could almost see the path they would take with senses heightened beyond the skills she already had. She dodged most by simply stepping forward and tilting her body this way and that. As another rat charged at her, spear at the ready, she simply lashed her hand out and grabbed him by his face, yanking him in front of her. Three arrows suddenly impacted into his back, and he let out a whimper of pain and fear. She planted her foot down and turned slightly to throw the man to the side. He impacted a stone wall hard enough that there was a crunch, and he fell to the ground limp.

Several of the arrows did impact her, though. Two struck her chest, embedding deep into her. Another struck her belly, and one bounced off the metal on her right thigh. She simply looked down at them, pulling the one in her belly out and staring at it. Black blood dripped off of the tip. She looked up at the archer that had fired the shot, seeing the horror in the vixen's gaze as she knocked another arrow. It had barely been loosed by the time Anna was suddenly upon her, lunging forward with blinding speed. The vixen cried out in fear, only for that cry to end in a bloody gurgle as the sword cut through her neck. It was not a full decapitation. She let the woman fall to the floor, grasping at her throat as blood poured on the stone floor, writhing her last.

More guards approached. Not just guards, but some of the knights had gotten themselves ready and armoured by now. Two guards were cut down easily, then her sword clashed with a knight's. The man standing in front of her was a badger, his teeth grit at her. "I know you, demon. I will send you back to the hell you crawled out of!"

She also knew him. "Rodrick." His eyes widened as she spoke his name, her voice growled and hissing. "I know you, too." She struck again, but he parried, if just barely. Despite her sword being deflected, he winced, the blow so hard it left his hands aching. "Murderer turned mercenary. Mercenary turned rebel. Rebel turned knight." She parried his blow this time with ease. "You think wearing colours means you are above the law now? That your sins would not come back to haunt you?" She grinned as he tried to attack again, but she only had to dodge it this time. "I know your seed was one of the many that fell upon my corpse."

She did not know how she knew all this. Some part of the magic that had revived her. She knew every person that had defiled her body. If she tried to remember, she could feel the hands, the cocks, the mouths upon her. She could taste the seed, smell each scent left on her as she rot on the display. She knew their names, their voices, their scents. They surrounded her now, each one a target to be cut down, a retribution to be delivered. And the more the thoughts of those memories reverberated in her mind, the more her fury rose.

Rodrick tried to attack again, but she moved closer, bringing her sword up under his guard. The tip struck the soft part at his armpit where no metal covered, sliding into the flesh. With a hard yank upwards, she cut through flesh and bone in one, severing his arm cleanly at his shoulder in a gush of blood. The man screamed in agony as his sword arm fell away to the floor, leaving him grasping at the bloody hole where it had been. She stepped forward and jammed her sword into that same bloody stump, stabbing down into his body through the gap. Blood splashed out of his mouth as she carved through a lung and several other vital organs. She rose a foot up and planted it on his side, shoving him down as she pulled the blade free. The badger crumpled to the ground, gurgling and coughing blood. She could have granted him a mercy kill, like she had so many others... but she wanted him to suffer. His death was assured eventually, so she moved on.

The other knight that had come out was a woman. She did not know this one. A horse wielding a great sword. Anna brought her own sword up, the blade red from the blood... though the old green hue of the metal had shifted more crimson as well. "I know you not. Step aside and let me pass."

The horse held her ground. "I am Lady Beatrice Grayson, a knight of Kirkonia! I will not back down to an unholy abomination such as you! Not after you have slain so many!"

"Kirkonia." Anna scoffed, gripping her sword tighter. "What a farce. A knight to a tyrant usurper. You had your chance." The two warrior women stared each other down. It was Beatrice that struck first, swinging her massive blade down. It was slow, and Anna was easily able to step back to avoid it. But that was a feint, the mare in better control of the weapon than she initially let on. The downward swing was suddenly changed into a forward thrust, the sword piercing through the tigress' abdomen. The blow was not halted there. The mare yanked the blade back upwards, cutting a deep gash through Anna's belly and up through her chest, splitting her open from hip to shoulder.

Anna did not flinch. She simply tilted her head as black blood oozed out of the wound. Her armour had split open, exposing the pale fur, her left breast falling free as the leather slid away. The mare's eyes went wide as what should have been a lethal blow started to close back up again right before her very eyes, soon looking as if it had never happened in the first place. "What... are you!?"

The tigress gave her a wild, almost feral grin of sadistic glee. "Exactly what you said. An unholy abomination." She stepped forward, her sword raised again.

The mare backed away in fear, dropping her own weapon. "Stay back! Oh, gods... I yield!"

"I gave you a chance to yield." She suddenly lunged forward, plunging her blade into the mare's chest, piercing straight through her. Blood splashed from the woman's mouth out onto Anna's face. "I have no mercy for any knight of this farcical nation." She shifted the blade, getting a groan of pain from the woman, but no scream. She had cut through too deeply for her to have breath anymore. "Your false king will join you soon, Beatrice Grayson." She pulled the sword free again, letting the mare slump to the floor to continue bleeding out. In her old life, she would have shown her mercy. Would have given her a warrior's death. Now, she let the woman die in her shame as she moved on into the palace itself.

*     *     *


The undead knight made her way through the palace as an unholy force of nature. It was not only guards and knights that she cut down, but anyone that crossed her path. Several servants had tried to flee, only to end up cut down in the halls with no mercy. Her kills were getting less clean as she went. No longer delivering quick killing blows, but leaving many with wounds that, while still fatal, would leave them in agony for minutes or even hours. Some were still quick kills, but not kind. One servant had been cut in half at the waist, two halves falling to the floor. One knight was left with his spine severed at mid-back, bleeding out slowly, but alive for his agonized screams to echo through the halls.

Then she encountered the mages just outside of the king's chambers. It seemed 'king' Kirkonus kept them as his personal guards. She rounded the corner, only to be struck by a blast of lightning. The arcs of blue energy coursed over her body, making her fur stand on end and her muscles tremble and shiver. Lightning magic had been a particular weakness of hers the last time she had fought through the palace, at the time defending it against invaders. It had slowed her reflexes down enough that she took several blows that slowed her further, all leading to her eventual demise.

This time, she felt her muscles shake, but no pain from it. She still felt what should have been pain, but it was not something debilitating, more of a minor inconvenience. It was not lessened, either, it simply did not seem to matter anymore. So as three more bolts of lightning struck her, she did little more than flinch and shrug it off. Tilting her head up, her eyes burned at the trio of robed mages in front of her. "My turn!" She held out a hand, grabbing hold of a darkness in the air. She once had the ability to use low level magic in life. Holy magic. That was lost to her now in her undead state.

Instead, she pulled at the blood on the floor. Pools of crimson lifted into the air on their own, globs of thick vital essence under her control. They formed into a myriad of sharp spikes, as if hardening into icicles in the air. With a wave of her hand, she threw them all. Dozens of blood-spears flew past her down the hall, each striking one of the mages. The trio cried out in pain as they were pierced over and over by the dark magic. One slammed back against the wall as he was riddled with the spikes. Another simply fell over as one pierced through his eyes and out the back of his skull. The last was left in tatters, crumpling to the floor and wheezing weakly. He would die soon enough. She had no fear of him healing himself. The blood magic prevented the wounds from healing, poisoning his own blood in the process. He would die in agony, his own blood killing him just as quickly as it flowed out of his body.

She turned to the large door that barred her way into the chamber. Kirkonus was inside. She could smell him. Hear his breathing. He was oddly calm in there. And he was alone. Perhaps he thought to take her alone. "Arrogant." She kicked the door open, the heavy wood not swinging open as much as being knocked completely off of its hinges. It flew back, slamming against the far wall and cracking in half, falling to the floor in two pieces.

Then a crossbow bolt struck her exposed belly. A flaming bolt, her fur catching in an instant. "I could say the same of you." The king spoke, reloading his crossbow. He watched as the flames rapidly spread to engulf the woman. "Did you think I wouldn't have read up on how to kill an undead? Cut off the head. Burn them with fire. Bury them at a crossroads and salt the earth above them. I'll admit, I'm lacking holy water or the magic to make it, but I have fire." Anna was trying to bat at the flames as they spread over her. It did not hurt, but she could feel her flesh charring and burning away. Another bolt struck, hitting her exposed breast and spreading the flames faster.

Anna fell backwards into the hallway, trying to roll to put out the flames, but they lingered upon her, spreading to burn the leathers covering her as much as her flesh. She did not scream, though. She did not feel the need to, despite the panic that he may have found a way to stop her getting her revenge. She would not give him that satisfaction. Kirkonus stepped out of the chambers to follow her. The wolverine was dressed in the raiment of his position, dark blue with gold filigree in a vine-like pattern. A small circlet wrapped around his head, the kind of crown one could wear into battle.

He looked down at the woman rolling and writhing on the floor. "I guess I really pissed you off if you came back just to kill me, huh?" He chuckled. His foot bumped against her sword, having been dropped when she fell to the ground. He crouched down, picking it up. It looked a little different than he remembered. The blade was a crimson red, the vines and leaves more like thorns. But it was definitely her sword. "As for cutting your head off. Well, I'll be happy to do that again." He gripped the sword in his hand tighter. "I'll even use the same weapon to do it. Your weapon. I think that's pretty fitting, don't you?"

She opened her eyes and stared up at him. "Poor chose of weapons!" The wolverine's own eyes went wide, but he was too slow to react. He cried out in pain as the sword responded to her call. Spikes suddenly shot out of the handle, piercing through the man's hands. He flinched away in pain, the sword dropping to the ground. He looked at his hands, seeing them bloody and mangled. Then his eyes went wide as the woman stood up, still completely engulfed in flames. He opened his mouth, but could not even let out a plea before her hand shot out, punching straight through his chest. He tasted blood in his mouth as his back slammed against the wall behind him. He also felt her fingers inside of his body, moving deliberately to clutch at his wildly beating heart. It felt like cold snakes coiling around inside of him.

Then he felt a new kind of pain, her claws jamming into the muscle in her grip. It still beat wildly, leaking blood deep inside of him in ways it shouldn't. Then something cold crept over him. The blood did not just drool out of him, but started to flow up her arm. The thick, red liquid coated her fur, traveling higher until it started to coat all of her body, dousing the flames. Kirkonus opened his mouth to try and scream, but nothing came out of him. His body started to shudder and tremble, then start to shrivel as she drew his blood out more quickly. His limbs seemed to deflate, his clothing no longer fitting properly. His circlet tilted as even his head seemed to shrink a little. Anna watched as the man almost rapidly aged right in front of him, his blood seeping out more and more to cover her fur.

Once all the flames were out, and her fur was stained red, she finally ended the man. She gripped the heart in her hand harder, feeling it weakly trying to beat. She tore it free, ripping her hand back out of his chest. His flesh and bones had become brittle from the draining blood magic, and the hole in his chest cracked even wider. His body fell to the floor as she held his heart. It gave one more weak attempt to beat, then just trembled for a second. She clenched her fist, turning the muscle into pulp and mush.

She stared down at the dead usurper, his circlet crown having fallen away. He was the last one to kill that she knew was here. The last man that had to die for her revenge... almost. There was one more left, but she would savor this moment. She reached down and gripped the dead wolverine's head. With a yank, she ripped it off of his shoulders with ease. The head already looked desiccated and half-mummified from the drained blood. She tucked it under one arm, reaching to grab her sword beside him. She also noticed how it had seemed to change its form. It suited her, displaying just as demonic as she had been. She was about to slide it back into the scabbard when she realized she did not have that on her anymore. Or much of anything. The flames had burned most of her armor away, leaving only a few bits of metal on her otherwise naked body. One of the pauldrons had fallen off, and the metal on her legs sat limp. She kicked the leggings off, letting the last pauldron fall away as well. She had no need to hide her body. She felt no shame from it.

Her exit of the palace was much swifter and less bloody than her entry had been. Namely because those she had not killed had fled. She stepped over bodies, still hearing several moaning in pain. She left them to die in the halls. Nothing could save them, and she had no desire to deliver mercy, even to the servants and slaves. She strode out into the courtyard, looking around at the bloody mess she had left in her wake. Setting her sword down on the ground, she picked up a spear and jammed it into the dirt. She then rammed Kirkonus' head onto the upper shaft. She grunted as she left him on display in the same way she had been.

She heard a coughing behind her and turned. She saw the horse from earlier. "You still live."

Beatrice had moved to sit on the grounds, her back leaning against a wall. Her armour had been pulled away to leave her half-exposed. A burn mark charred her flesh where Anna has stabbed her. She had cauterized the wound using the flame from a nearby brazier. "You... aimed well..." She coughed, only to grunt and wince. "Why not hit... my heart? You were only... only a breath away..."

Anna stared at her. She did not have an answer. She had been fully willing to let the woman die. "You have honour." She turned away. "Do not come for me. I go to my rest. Instead, live and tell the tale of what happens to those that would usurp as a tyrant. Do not make me come back here again." She took a step, then stopped. "And name the kingdom something new. Kirkonia was a lie." She heard a wet chuckle from the mare, which only made her cough all the more. She walked away once more, leaving her former home in shambles.

*     *     *


The door to the hut burst open, Anna stepping inside. She was still just as naked as she had been hours before, not bothering to cover any of herself as she walked through the swamp. Gathi smiled as the woman stepped inside. "See. I told you she would return soon."

Telios nodded. He had been sitting on a very uncomfortable wooden chair in silence for almost the entire time. Once Anna stepped in, he rose to his feet. "You did." He looked to the tigress. "Is it done?"

Anna's fiery gaze turned to him. "You doubt me?"

He shook his head. "No. I only mourn for those that were foolish enough to stand in front of you." He saw just how much blood had been stained into her fur. She was almost more red than white now. "But you have one last to slay that wronged you." She nodded. "Very well." He reached up and started to unfasten the clasps of his armor. His cape fell away, then his plate slid down, set to the floor. Last was his jerkin, opened and pulled off, leaving his chest fully exposed and unprotected. He stepped forward, his arms open. "Do it."

She stared at him for a long moment. "You will not resist?"

He shook his head. "No. I deserve this. I betrayed you and my kingdom, and reaped benefits from it. But the regret haunts me like a spectre. It is only fitting that the spectre is my end."

She stared at him for another long moment, then stepped forward to stand directly in front of him. She could feel his breath puffing onto her face. He felt no such breath from her. "Answer me one last question. Did you ever love me, or was that a lie, too?"

The stag winced, but forced himself not to look away, meeting her hard gaze. "I loved you with all my heart, my dearest Anna. That was never a lie."

She nodded. "Very well." She stepped closer to him. He closed his eyes, only to tense up when he felt not a blade, but her lips touch him. She pressed her mouth to his in a deep kiss. And he returned it, his arms hesitantly moving around to hold her against him. He kept his eyes closed, feeling tears starting to run from them. It was then that he felt the blade. It touched his chest and slid into him with a slow, almost gently ease. It quickly pierced into his heart, cleaving it in half while she held him close. He still kissed against her, accepting this death.

She felt him tremble only once, then his arms fell away. She let him fall backwards, only then breaking the kiss. His body slid off of her blade, slumping to the ground at her feet. He was dead. The last man she had to kill. Her betrayer. And she felt... unsatisfied. She closed her eyes, realizing she couldn't cry. But she wanted to. "Bastard... even in death you rob me of my last desire..."

Gathi tilted her head. "Something wrong, my dear? That is the last one you needed to kill, right?"

She nodded. "Yes." She turned to the raccoon necromancer. "My task is done. Set me free. Let me rest."

"Rest?" Gathi tilted her head. "I never said anything about letting you rest. You are free of my control, that is all I promised."

"What!?"

The mage held up her gnarled hands. "Now now, I never lied to you. Or to him." She chuckled. "And before you start turning that anger on me, I have an offer for you."

Anna frowned at her. "Speak quickly or you will share his fate."

"You would not be able to. I am still a necromancer." She chuckled, holding her hand up as Anna angrily stepped forward. "Now hold on. That is not a threat."

"Speak your offer, witch!" She shouted so loud it echoed around the room.

"Of course." She cleared her throat. "You have three options. First, you can walk out that door and find your own way. Free from my control, but an immortal undead, cursed to walk alone for all time. Second option: I can give you that rest. You would serve me for a time. No more than a century. Do my bidding, kill those that need killing, and then afterwards you could rest once more, never to rise again. It would be a pact, and those cannot be broken, so you need not fear another betrayal."

Anna tilted her head, still feeling her anger. "You said there was a third option."

Gathi nodded. "Yes. But it is more another alternative to the first." She motioned to the dead stag. "You can bring him back. There are enough souls lingering in that blade of yours that I can still use them. His love for you was true, and yours for him. Would you be willing to curse him with your immortal unlife to keep that love?"

She looked at Telios. Could she do that? She did love him, and in that last moment of his life, she felt his love for her. She knew that was no lie. But immortality was... a burden. And they would not truly be alive anymore. "How long do I have to choose?"

The raccoon tilted her head back and forth. "Eh... the first two will remain as long as I am alive. And I do plan to stay alive for a long time. But the third you must choose now. His soul was released willingly, and it will not linger long. So make your choice. Bring back the love you have just slain and live forever with him as undead, free of any control. Or walk away now, free of any control, immortal alone for all time. Or serve me for a time, and find your rest at the end of your servitude. Who knows, you might even find yourself reunited with him... but it is unlikely with what you have just done. And not just you, his own sins may keep him from you, as well."

Anna stepped over, looking down at Telios. These were her only options. She knew it. She had no desire to serve anyone, especially a crazy old witch in the swamps. She knew she would be used as a tool for murder and evil. Could she really spent eternity alone? That seemed like a curse. But could she curse her love to suffer it with her? It was a selfish desire, but he did love her, and they could be together. But undead. She closed her eyes, letting herself weigh each option as best she could. It was not a light choice to make.

She stood motionless, a statue of indecision. Eventually, she opened her eyes. Turning to the necromancer, she spoke. "I have made my decision."

*     *     *
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