The Fall of Ionia (Impyh/Santuary of Sinz)

[Impyh]

Ashes fell from the sky, so she had to use a hand to cover her eyes. She couldn’t stop looking to the horizon, the ruined plantations and the fire spreading through the woods. But that was war, right? It was how it had to be. Noxus rewarded might, power, strength. It was the only place in the world where anyone could prove themselves worthy and ascend to the top. They were the heroes of the story.

Right?

She gripped the hilt of her sword, still bloodstained, and pulled it from the cadaver of an enemy. She passed her free hand over her face, somewhat cleaning herself from sweat and dirt, breathing hard to calm herself. After all, it was Riven’s first battle. It was okay to be nervous, she told herself. Lifting her giant broken blade, she took mousy steps back to the camp.

The entire battlefield smelled of death. She watched as lots of scavengers went through the body, enriching themselves with coins, jewelry and anything that could be sold for a few bucks. Riven was not there for the money, she was there to find for her country. To find herself a purpose, to fight for what she believes. Noxus would bring proper civilization to that exotic evil place. If only they could see it and surrender before too much blood was spilled…

It didn’t take long for her to get back to the main camp. They moved most of the installations while they clashed against that first Ionian division, so that they were now rooted deeper into their territory. Just on top of a small hill, on the side of a voluminous river, good vision and control of the flow of water. She nodded to the guards on vigilance duty, all of them wearing the red and black Noxian colors. Like she was.

Riven was draped in light armor, which was better for her mobility. She had some black reinforced leather straps protecting her abdomen and shoulders, but her chest was covered only by white cloth. Well, used to be white. It was even more Noxian now, painted with red blood. Her big thick muscular legs were exposed, allowing her to move so much faster, to jump and shift through the background. And it worked. She was almost untouched. She had a small cut on her tight that already stopped bleeding, a few bruises, but nothing that needed medical attention.

That wasn’t true for all her fellow comrades. The medical tent was right at the entrance of the camp, one the first things they set up, and it was already at maximum capacity. She heard the soul piercing screams, the sound of knives wenting into flesh. They won, decisively, but even victories had a big bloody cost. She had to find her way to the command tent, where they would probably be waiting for her. Riven wasn’t exactly a high ranking official, but her skills were recognized. Noxus always rewarded the strong. So she was respected. Given a good place, under one of Noxus generals. She walked through the soldiers patching their small wounds and cleaning their weapons, the smell of blood never leaving her. Shouldn’t it be less after she left the battlefield? Would the musk of death stay on her nostrils forever?

Riven shook her head. Maybe. Why did it matter? Why was she thinking so much? It was a battlefield. Of course it stinked. What else did she expect? And then she hit the big open area in the center of the camp, and a second powerful pungent smell overtook the scent of death. First she smelled, confused, her mouth processing it, and then she understood what she was seeing.

They had set up some kind of improvised wood pillory, and stuck there was a young vastayan girl. Her head and wrists locked in the wood display, her body completely naked. Riven watched dumbfounded as a soldier pulled her ass up by her fluffy brown tail, and forced his cock inside of her. He was slamming roughly into her cunt, forcing her tail with strength, the legs of the poor girl shaking as she was fucked. And – oh fuck – the line behind her was endless. Riven couldn’t move as another soldier went in front of the girl, gripping both her animal ears and forcing her mouth open to face fuck her. It didn’t take long for him to pull back and cum all over her face, white sticking semen mixing with the tears that flowed down her amber eyes. Riven stood for an unbearable long time in shock, frozen, confused, sickened.

She looked in her early twenty, just like herself, but you never could truly know with Vastayans. Her medium perky breasts were showing, under her body, already kind of red from all of the hard groping. The second man also climaxed, shooting his cum inside of her cunt, and when he stepped back Riven could see the liquid dripping between the poor thing’s shaking legs, forming a puddle under her. She realized that was probably not the first soldier that used the prisoner, her ass looking sore from all the spanking. She watched as a couple more men advanced to keep spitroasting the Vastaya girl, and Riven was filled with the urge to intervene.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

Most of the heads in the crowd turned to her, their faces twisted in sick looks. Most of them had their cocks out, jerking it, waiting in the line, and Riven felt something sink in her stomach. They were looking at her as if she was also just meat to be used, their attention focusing on her ample breasts, on her exposed legs. She felt dirty.

The next dude on line – A burly bearded fifty-something captain – spread the brunette pussy with two of his fingers, making the girl cry and moan in a language Riven didn’t understand, before slapping his hard hairy dick against that hole. He was looking deep into Riven’s eyes while trying to fit it in.

“Fun. We got some playthings. Keep the morale up” He forced it inside, and the woman wailed, also looking at Riven, eyes brimming with tears. “Plus, they’re not even human. Want to come here and have her eat you out?”

Riven felt a deep sense of disgust.

“No.”

And she walked away, trying to hold back her queasiness, the strong smell of cocks, sex and semen now impregnating the camp. It didn’t take long for her to realize that there was more of that going on. She saw a white haired horned girl spread on the floor, her arms and legs tied up, while soldiers also took turns laying atop of her. Not far, a purple skinned thin girl was made to stand between two masts, standing with her arms and legs locked in an X, and two soldiers sandwiched her, one inside her pussy and one in her ass. Her head lay on the shoulder of the front one, defeated, just letting them abuse her body.

Because they weren’t human? Because they were just a bounty for the soldier’s morale? Like the scavengers were collecting money and trinkets, so the army could make their collection of exotic vastayan sex slaves?

She tried to push the moans and cries out of her mind. She had a meeting to attend, so she made her way to her commander tent. Maybe there she could tell him something… Maybe they could fight that war with respect…

She left out a disgruntled little laugh. Why was she trying to lie to herself? That was what war is. Murder, conquest, rape. Everything was on the table, right? She shouldn’t feel bad. Ionia would do the same if they won. Noxus was might. So Noxus was right.

Wasn’t it?

She recomposed herself, trying hard to not cry – never cry, Riven. You’re a proud strong warrior – and went inside the command tent.

 

[Santuary of Sinz]

The clash of two countries would be felt far and wide. Ionia's defenses and fortitude against the brutality that was Noxus and it's ever growing quest for conquest, taking those under it's wing, by Force, If Necessary. Noxus had come to Ionia with an attempt to bring their nations together, and absorb them into the Noxian Empire, further strengthening their nation. But when the leaders refused such an offer, One of Noxus' leaders warned of war, and that taking no for an answer was never their approach to a world of which they sought. They would show the fruits of their labors, their metal put against the Ionian forces. As the leader left the chambers, his last words left an echo in the chambers, leaving a sense of dread behind

"Send your men and women, and watch them fall. You will see the might of Noxus, as you cower behind your walls."

The sanguine life from allies and enemies stained the barren fields on the outskirts of Ionia's fields, where once they held verdant green seas of grass and tall mighty trees, now set earth and embers, land paved out and beaten with bodies, steel, and footprints. The battle cried having died out hours ago, leaving nothing but the unsettling sound of the Spoils of War, where they plucked from the remains like Ravens to corpses. The Noxians plundered and reaped the rewards, pulling men to the side to either finish off or conscript, while scouring the women for their bounties

The scent of blood, toil, and loose bowels stained the air, only being blotted out by the scent of fire and food. This was war after all, and Ionia's refusal to become a part of the growing Empire that was Noxus had lead to this first assault being a success for the aggressors. Their banners raised high, a testament to the land they've pushed forth and claimed. Tents raised high, showing quality leathers and materials, weapon racks set and propped up in orderly fashion as most of the laborers, both soldiers and slaves, were put to work to make sure their grounds were secure. A few had attempted to flee in desperation, hoping for a glimmer of a chance to escape and find themselves in a peaceful world of their home, the horizon that encompassed Ionia, only to find themselves felled, added to the pile of corpses

The noise of bodies rutting against one another as those who were left to fight, or tend to the warriors of the defending land were now being used to satisfy the mens appetites, some spirits broken, others holding fire in their guts, other succumbing to their pleasures, and the worst, were the ones that have lost their spirits and having gone borderline mad with their torturers using them as much as they saw fit. It was a growing night of endless noise and cheerful success. The enemies line had fallen, and none could stand against the first wave.

The high tent was colors of black and red, with a trim of gold, and a pair of Noxian Battle Flags for peaks, billowing in the wind on their posts that reached heavenward. As the air cleared itself of the unholy scents, making it far more bearable in this area, away from the leftover mess. When the flaps opened up, a small handful of soldiers settled within the tent, most of their helms removed to let their eyes scour over the map laid out before them, as a single woman bound in leathers with her arms tied behind her back was left silent, a splay of black hair over her head, covering her up almost completely. She seemed detached from what was going on.

Then, there, at the very war table, hands set on either sides of the detailed layout before them, was the Might of Noxus...

Darius

He was the definition of power, one of the three leaders of Noxus who had lead the charge against the Ionian forces and culled many in his way. The stains of blood still spattered different parts of his armor, droplets staining his pale skin. The flicker of his eyes lifted from the map as they laid on Riven. His brows furrowed as he picked up on the expression she had.

"... Leave us."

He spoke in a sharp tone, his voice low and commanding to the other members who steadily began to file out one at a time, the tent flap signaling each person that left in short order. The three were left behind, given far more space.

Torches hanging in metal cages, casting warmth and light in the space as weapon racks settled neatly in their respective spaces. Barrels with rolled up maps, parchments, and notes, shelves with books and notes. On the map, it showed a few wood carved pieces, noting the position of the army in contrast to the Ionian forces, and the layout of approach to which they'd put their strengths. Darius had waited a moment for the fall of footsteps to fade away, before he steadily straightened his back. The stark contrast of height between them, even at this distance, was easily noted. He was imposing, powerful, even while quiet. His axe was set just within reach, leaning against the wood frame of the table where their tactics laid out.

"Report."

Short, curt, and direct. Darius wanted to hear from Rivens mouth of their progress. After the first hour of his own rampaging, he fell back, finding no other foes worthy to fight him. His men would fight, succeed, or die, and become a stepping stone for the rest.