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  • The Knight of Arcalund Book 07

The Knight of Arcalund Book 07

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A paranoid, altogether arrogant Gold Dragon Whelpling.

A bold, courageous and steadfast warhorse with hooves hard enough to crumble anything they struck to powder.

A keen-eyed and buxom Ogre Ranger who was vividly aimed with her elegant bow.

A keen-minded and not-so-buxom Wizardess, star-crossed and infatuated, her large brain filled to the brim with arcane knowledge and lore untold.

A lecherous Knight from a valorous lineage of heroes and guardians, struggling desperately to escape his destiny.

Smokesnort, Savolt, Jagza, Lindi and Sir Carnos Goldmorrow stood before the looming and despicable blasted onyx tower of Gomezzer's. Their journey had brought them here, to the cursed and wretched haven of the Arch Warlock of the seventy-three Hells, and it was every bit as imposing as any of them could have expected. The wicked warmth that radiated from the scorched looking thing felt as if imported from the deepest, most sweltering level of the Hells beneath. Brave readers out there wishing to sample just a taste of this unsettling warmth might wish to move to New Jersey during the sweltering, humid months of mid-summer and sit in a car with no air conditioning with the windows rolled up, then, once baked to a nice level of sweaty discomfort, drop a boiling ember of some kind on your groin and that will give just a bit of insight as to the sort of hellish haze the tower exuded. For us not-so-brave readers currently engulfed in this simple chronicler's writings, suffice it to say that it was really, really hot there.

Jagza the Ogre spoke in her seemingly unwaveringly stoic and dire voice. "I can feel the dread from inside. The Orb that we seek is near."

Lindi, even as robbed as she was of her spellcasting gusto, nodded in silent agreement, letting out a meek little gulp as he bottlecap glasses slowly raised to the top of the ominous structure before her. She was floored at the prospects of the entire arcane energies of every Arcane wizard in the world so near to her. She could tangibly feel the rippling, unfettered power of the stolen magic pulsing near.

Sir Carnos was not a fan of stoicism or grim silence much, so as always, he broke the ice with some kind of exciting idea. Scratching his mop of perfectly groomed sunbeam yellow hair, he squinted at the tower. Astute readers may notice that no matter how gory, messy, muddy, dirty, sodden, filthy, sweaty, or sticky the situation at hand might be, the Knight of Arcalund was always in pristine condition, his hair always immaculately groomed, his fingernails always admirably tidy, and his armor and clothing never mussed, wrinkled, or marred. Those who would love to possess such abilities of cleanliness should seriously invest in enrolling in some sort of Hero-ing academy and brush up on ones swordplay. For those of us not so martially inclined, we'll just have to settle for showering amd washing our clothes for the immediate time being. "Well, I doubt the doors are just gone open for us, here. " The Knight said pluckily, turning to his trusty mount Savolt, whose surliness was simply unsurpassed despite their long and treacherous journey. "Savolt, kick in the d-"

But alas, before command could be ushered and Savolt could commence some door-kickery, the ground trembled around the party of adventurers, and as suddenly as you could hiccup, four blasted, black skeletal hands jutted from the blasted earth and clutched Savolt, Smokesnort, Lindi, and the Ogre Jagza. The charred black bone of the large clutching hands matched the exterior of the tower perfectly, and each set of fingers enjoyed a wickedly curved, very sharp looking talon. Sir Carnos alone was left unmolested, and sprung to decisive action, arming himself with shield and sword in a half-breath, rearing back to unleash his mastery of the blade on the four hands that bound his friends so tightly.

A second before springing into action, the large doors of the ashen tower creaked and whined, opening on their own accord. A familiar voice rang out from inside the tower. "Halt, Sir Carnos Goldmorrow!"

With lightning reflexes, Sir Carnos switched his stance, shield aimed at the open gates, sword cocked back, ready to swing confidently and viciously. His gorgeous blue eyes darted from his immobilized friends to the voice that called to him. From the spooky darkness of inside the tower sauntered Perversia the Succubus, looking ever-naughty, her tail lazily wafting from side to side, her supple curves all too familiar to our hero from their last meeting.

"What is the meaning of this, Succubus?" Sir Carnos barked.

Even crumpled up in a very uncomfy position inside the fist of a blackened, large skeletal hand, Smokesnort could not be stifled. "Oh, for crying out loud. Carnos, if you and her do what I think you're gonna do then I'm not going to be your friend anymore! Ouch!" The Dragon whined as the clutching skeletal fist tightened around him, severely wrinkling his golden wings.

The Knight of Arcalund ignored the Dragon Whelpling, his attentions on the pale white Succubus before him (Go figure). "Answer me!"

Perversia was not armed, her whip was coiled and slung lazily on her womanly hips, wrapped around her and tied like some stylish leather belt. "My Master assures you that these binds will not harm your friends if you merely come meet with him."

Sir Carnos laughed loudly. "Oh, I FULLY intend on 'meeting' with Gomezzer. Release my companions now!"

The Succubus shrugged her shoulders, putting her hands behind her back, taking strides towards him on those sinfully long legs. Her breasts obscenely bouncing with each step she took. "They are my Master's creation, and even if I wished to dispel them, I could not, Sir Carnos. I speak the truth to you. Meet with my Master and your friends will not be harmed.

"Oh?" Sir Carnos quirked a sharp eyebrow. "Then I guess I'll just have to slice right through those bony fingers and free them myself!"

Perversia's voice was no longer playful, and she squinted her glowing green eyes. "You are a fine swordsman, gallant Knight, but even with your speed and strength, how many of your friends could you save in the blink of an eye? I can assure you, that is all that would be necessary for these bindings to crush every bone in the bodies of your companions. At best, you could save...two? Three?" Now she smiled, displaying that sultry vixen's gaze. "Tell me, Sir Carnos, who of your friends here would you save first, and who would you let die?"

Sir Carnos gritted his teeth, knowing for certain he could save some of his friends from their bony, uncomfy prisons, but not all. His stance never faltered, his sword never-quivering. "And I'm supposed to trust the word of a Warlock?"

"It would seem that given the alternative, you have very little choice in the matter. Please, come with me, Knight." She turned sharply on a wicked heel and walked into the tower, leaving our Hero to appraise the plight of his friends. Each one so tightly gripped, Lini looking terrified and half-strangled already...even mighty Savolt was unable to rear those diamond-hard hooves and free himself. Jagza, for all her strength, could barely breathe in the tight constraints of the skeletal grip, her large blue tits mashed against some of the black bone. The sight was not altogether unappealing, but still a deadly predicament. His gaze moved to his Dragon companion, who for the first time since Sir Carnos had met the talkative creature, looked frightened out of his mind.

He stood tall, sheathing his sword, calling out to his comrades. "I swear I'll rescue you." He made eye contact with each of his eccentric friends. "All of you."

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The interior of Gomezzer's tower was almost disappointing to the young Knight. Sure, it was bleak, dimly lit, foul smelling, and had some chains dangling from the walls here or there, the ever-popular random skull strewn about, and even came complete with a spooky fog of vapor that wafted just above the floor, giving the place a mysterious type feel as well. Sure, it would scare the pants off of you or I, but Sir Carnos Goldmorrow was no savvy reader or bumbling chronicler! He pictured the final battle between he and Gomezzer to be an epic affair, full of snappy dialogue and witty comebacks, a fevered battle for all the magic of the world itself!

Instead, he was being escorted to the Warlock himself so they could chit-chat...surely his Father would be rolling in the grave if he was this!

Though dejected that his dramatic confrontation was not quite so dramatic as he wished it, he took solace in staring at Perversia's bare, supple ass, which jiggled with each step, that shiny black tail that jutted from her elegant tailbone hypnotizing him as she lead him through the spiral staircases and cramped, winding halls of her Master's tower. Before long she walked the young Knight straight to the top level, with large, domineering balconies that overlooked the entire hell-world that was Gomizon. Radiating like a beacon in the center of the place was the unmistakable Orb of Orgov, what had begun as a small ball of tingly energy was now an enormous, fizzing, crackling and majestic globe that swelled with all the focused, concentrated power of Arcane mages everywhere. Rarely did something besides a nice set of heaving jugs every take our Hero's breath away, but this certainly did. He stood there, eyes wide and in awe of what was before him. Perversia took to one knee beside the Knight of Arcalund, heralding the entrance of her dreaded master.

Sir Carnos was snapped from his reverie by the sounds of applause and laughter. He turned to see the spindly, completely gross figure of the hunched over Warlock known as Gomezzer walk from behind the gleaming orb, smiling as if he an the Knight were old friends. Finally, after all this time, Sir Carnos Goldmorrow: Knight of Arcalund was face to ugly face with Gomezzer, Arch Warlock of the seventy-three Hells. Of all the sounds he thought he would have heard upon meeting the fiend, applause would have been right at the bottom of the list.

"Bravo, brave Knight!" The croaky voice of Gomezzer hissed between amused laughs. "Indeed, you are every bit as stalwart and virile as your lengthy legend claims!"

Sir Carnos stood tall, puffing out his chest, his sterling breastplate somehow shining brilliantly with the light from Orgov's accursed Orb. "Enough games, Warlock, hurl your most dire spell and let's be done with this!"

Gomezzer quirked a bushy grey eyebrow and let out a menacing little laugh. "Ah, you think me such a fool, Sir Carnos?" He held his long and spindly fingers out to his sides, as if signifying he was unarmed. "You think I have no knowledge of you? Surely you could not fool me twice! Your clever shield that always returns from you evaded my agent Perversia once, and to make certain it did not happen again, I've conducted lengthy research into your little tricks." Sir Carnos frowned as the Warlock commenced his gleeful and villainous tirade. "Your keen blade, which always leads you wherever you wish to travel...what else was there? Oh, yes, that fantastic breastplate of yours that repels any and all magical attacks!" The Warlock grinned wildly and clapped his green hands together. "I assure you, young Knight, I never make the same error twice. You'll meet no spell of mine on this day."

Sir Carnos was tired of all these games, and cracked his athletic and tan neck from side to side. "Suit yourself, but something tells me you'll do poorly in a fistfight, even with your little skank's help over here." He nodded down to Perversia. "I've already tussled with her before, and she just couldn't keep up." He smiled slyly at the memory, reaching down to pat the kneeling succubus on her head of silky, inky black bobbed hair.

"Oh, attack me at your leisure, Sir Carnos. I am weak and infirm, and will surely buckle under but a single blow from your blade!" Gomezzer snapped his fingers loudly. "Ah, but can you kill me before I give the mental command to squish your loyal companions? ARE you that fast with a blade? Can you outfight a thought, Knight of Arcalund?"

Sir Carnos huffed in frustration, always hating to admit there was something that even he could not do. There was a long pause as he struggled to summon the words. "No, I can't."

Gomezzer's evil eyes lit up as he folded his hands in front of him. "Attack me anyway, young Knight! Slay me here and now, your friends pale in comparison to your mighty legend! They benefit far more from you than you do of them."

Now, our hero is a lot of things, dear reader. He's horrible with money, downright gal-crazy, as well as being more than a bit vainglorious. But one thing he certainly could not be accused of was being disloyal to his friends. Sir Carnos shook his head, speaking in a tone that did not at all sound like him. He was speaking with the voice of his father, and his father's father before him-The voice of strength and loyalty and bravery that was the hallmark of every Goldmorrow in the line. "Never, Gomezzer. Let them go. Now."

Gomezzer's calm façade quickly crumbled, and he scowled at the young Knight. "Impudent Whelp!" He spat out angrily. "You stand before the most powerful being in this world and you dare to make demands of me?!" The Warlock turned, motioning to the massive globe of force throbbing in the center of the room. "I have the Orb of Orgov! I have the powers of every arcane mage in Arcalund!"

Sir Carnos gave the foul tempered Warlock a mocking look. "So? What are you gonna do with it?"

"Brash, mindless fool!" Gomezzer yelled. "I, the most learned Black magician to ever walk this miserable land hold the entirety of the world's power in my grip, and you dare ask what I'm going to do with it?!" Gomezzer clutched his green hands into wrinkly, bony fists that shook before him, as if he were wringing out a towel. "I'm going to crush every drop of magic from the orb and drain the combined magical essence into myself! Then I will be a walking GOD, able to easily break the chains that bind me here!"

Sir Carnos' expression did not change. "My, absorbing the entire orb into yourself must take quite a bit of concentration."

"More than you could ever fathom, Mortal!" Gomezzer replied.

"Then tell me, Gomezzer...how exactly can you concentrate on draining the orb, as well as maintaining the spell outside that's binding all my friends? I mean, if you want to drain the orb, you're going to have to let my friends go. And if you let my friends go..." Sir Carnos smiled and patted the hilt of his wickedly curved sword. "Well...you know..."

Gomezzer took a quick step back, his red gaze darting from the swollen, pulsating orb back to the threatening Knight. "Perversia will fend you off! She is bound to my word and serves me utterly!"

"Sure, she'd keep me busy for a minute or two...is that really all the time it takes to absorb all the magical power in the WORLD?" He gave a sleek grin at the haggard looking Warlock. "I'd have you in six pieces before you could so much as take a chunk out of that thing."

The Warlock hissed at the Knight's logic, a bead of sweat trailing down his bald, green scalp.

"What's wrong? Having a hard time keeping up with all this spellcasting you've been doing? Must take a whole lot of willpower to keep the spell going on outside..."

"If I break the spell your friends will die!"

"True." Sir Carnos nodded. "And you will as well. That I swear to you. Is your life worth a mere four mortals, Arch Warlock of the seventy-three hells?" The Knight was calling the Warlock's bluff, unsheathing his deadly sword with a loud and lethal sound as the blade left scabbard,

Gomezzer's cunning mind worked rapidly. He would not be outdone by a mere boy in tin! Putting up his hands in a defensive gesture, he warded off our Hero. "A compromise, then! Yes, we must compromise..." He licked his dry, cracked lips with his really nasty tongue. "I will give you my word that I will release your friends, if you give your oath as a Knight to let me live."

Sir Carnos laughed wildly. "The word of a Warlock is worth less than nothing. A Knight's oath is infallible. Nice try."

Gomezzer rushed to a nearby desk, scribbling madly, sweat now freely rolling down his scalp and dripping of his pointy nose. Summoning Bleakbeak, the binding spell outside...his magical energies weakening by the moment..."Here! I write to you a sworn pledge. It is binding to a Warlock." He jabbed the quill into his scrawny arm and signed it in his putrid glowing red blood. "A blood Pact from a Warlock is unable to be broken!" He handed the parchment to Sir Carnos, who read it quickly. Indeed, signed in Warlock blood, was a pledge to free Sir Carnos' friends from harm for as long as Sir Carnos let Gomezzer live.

The Knight of Arcalund looked down at Perversia, and then back to Gomezzer. "Throw her in as well and you've got a deal. I want one last romp with Perversia here."

Gomezzer shook in weakness as he struggled to maintain his magics. "I can not hold the spell much longer!"

"Then write quickly." Sir Carnos said sternly, refusing to give his oath unless his terms were met.

"Bah!" Gomezzer snatched up the pen and wrote in the clause sloppily. "There! You have one hour to do as you wish with Perversia! Now swear your Oath!"

Sir Carnos took a deep breath, raising a sturdy gauntlet, walking over towards one of the balconies overlooking the gloomy landscape of Gomizon. He could see below that the large skeletal hands were holding his companions still, and even though they were severely uncomfy, none were too direly wounded. "I, Sir Carnos Goldmorrow of the Goldmorrow line, give my Knight's oath that I will let Gomezzer, Arch Warlock of the seventy-three hells live for as long as he keeps my friends Savolt, Smokesnort, Jagza and Lindi safe."

As the last word left his lips, Gomezzer collapsed on the floor, trembling weakly near the Orb of Orgov. Perversia the Succubus lunged forth to assist her fallen Master, kneeling at his side. "Master!" She went to help him up, but Gomezzer used what little strength he had to fend her away.

"Foolish girl! Go with him! I cannot break my blood pact, lest I forever be banned from the realm which the pledge was made!"

"But you are not well!"

"Perversia!" Gomezzer angrily shouted, perking the attention of Sir Carnos. "My words are my power over you! You WILL do as I command!"

Unable to resist a direct order from her Master, the bound Demon stood and walked towards Sir Carnos, bowing her head. "For the hour I am yours."

Clutching the busty white Succubus by her tender arm, Sir Carnos yanked her towards the balcony, bending her over it and shuffling out his throbbing, stiff ten inch prick, which he dutifully slapped against her jiggly, perfect, downright fat ass. "Miss me?" Sir Carnos said cheekily.

"More than you know." Her sleek black tail swished out of the way, granting him access to her plush, gorgeous ass. Perversia wiggled it enticingly before the young Knight, two loaves of flesh bobbing up and down as she moved so hypnotically. "Take me, Sir Carnos."

The Knight clutched a fistful of silky black hair and yanked Perversia's head back. She let out a delicious little moan of pleasure at the sudden jolt of pain, her plump black lips stretching into a smile. While a really dramatic, tense battle of wits for the lives of his friends was all very strenuous for our hero, and he certainly did want to relieve himself in Pervsia's enviously tight asshole, this little clause in their contract had a purpose beyond simple carnal pleasure. "You really care about the old coot, don't you?"

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