Paladin's Downfall (Red x Causeway)

R

RedOnesGoFaster

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Dec 22, 2014
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IhnUgAaea4M
The mountain spewed a steady gout of thick, black smoke into the air, turning the sky dark and any light that pierced the haze an ominous red. This volcanic realm was a foul one, the sort of place that most wouldn't have dared venture even remotely close to. Travelers of all sorts gave the land a wide berth, and it was said that even the gods had no sight here. It was a realm of monsters, of demons, of dark creatures not fit for the light of day. The closest thing to man that thrived here was the enormous orc population, and they were a great deal closer to beast than man. Their settlements and villages dotted the blasted landscape, and their patrols regularly rode across the ashen valleys.

Still, she had come. She'd find herself standing at the base of a dark mountain range, ancient and terrible, though not nearly so terrible as the enormous black maw that opened up in the rock. The light only managed to shine a few hundred yards in, and after that it was mysterious, dreadful darkness. Doubtless whatever waited within was foul and well deserving of a good slaying... though none could doubt that she just might be in over her head. Despite the darkness of the entrance, there was plenty of sound to be heard within, and not just the volcanic rumblings of the region. No, there was life in there. Life of all sorts, each fouler than the last.

Dare she enter?
 
The Lady Castiana, Sword Sister of the Knightly Order of Palavan, stood before the entrance to the black maw, her scarlet cape and long, golden hair flowing behind her. Her silver armor shimmered in the fiery light of the lava flows, it's elegantly engraved plates fitted closely to her curvaceous form. Her sapphire eyes gazed steely into the black maw before her, and she tightened her grip on the master crafted pollaxe in her hands. A gilded longsword hung at her hip, secured by a belt.

She knew no fear. "Evil beware, I have come to smite thee!" She uttered, and marched into the gloom, her pollaxe raised out point in front of her.
 
The poor woman really ought to have started somewhere smaller. Somewhere simpler. There were evils in the world that deserved to be ousted, it was true. This was not a place where valor was to be one, however. This was a dark land best left alone, left to stew in relative peace. She was poking a dangerous hornets' nest merely with her presence, and with a declaration like that, she was asking for the swarm to overtake her. She would be little more than the latest of many adventurers to come to this place seeking glory, and like so many others, she would not be leaving. Like so many others, too, it would not be death that claimed her... but something far more sinister.

"Oi. You 'ear dat, boys?" Deep, guttural voices sounded in the darkness.

"Din't 'ear nuffin'," came the reply. "Yer turn, ya grot."

There was a meaty smack and a grunt of pain then. "Sod off an' go check it, ya lazy git. Might be it's one a' dem humies da boss likes so much."

"Humies?" A moment of silence. Then, all at once, there was the clattering of iron and leather as heavy footfalls neared her position. One of three great, hulking brutes carried a blazing torch, outlining the forms of three enormous, green-skinned orcs. "Get dat humie! An' her gubbinz!" Not only would she prove to be a delicious prize, but she had exquisite equipment. A rarity in these parts. With glinting metal in mind, they rushed her, clubs in hand and violence in mind.
 
"You behold your doom, foul creatures!" Lady Castiana charged forward, chanting a Litany of Fury, to imbue her body and weapons with righteous vigor, with which to smite her foes. She got to the first orc, and she drove the long spike of her pollaxe into its gut. She then stabbed it twice more, and followed up with chopping her axe head deep into its skull. As it collapsed, she pulled her weapon out with a flourish, and brandished it at the other two. "Which of you knaves is next?"
 
The first orc, the greediest of the bunch, was cut down in a hail of brutality. The other two were left dumbfounded for a moment, watching as their comrade hit the floor in a spreading pool of blood and gore. Two thoughts occurred to them. The first was that, if he was dead, they could have his stuff. The second? "Zog me, dat humie can fight," said one of the two, as if he'd never considered that such a thing might be possible.

"Bah, he waz a git," said the other, readying his club. The charge was rejoined, and he raised it high in the air, threatening to slam it down on the smaller woman with all the force he could muster. Just because they were going to capture her alive and take her stuff, after all, didn't mean they were afraid to rough her up first. Quite the opposite, in fact, as the other rounded his fellow orc, making a brutal swing of his own for the woman.
 
"You have chosen death, fools," she snarled, and raised the bottom-end of her pollaxe towards the first charging orc. As it swung down at her with a great, exaggerated blow that completely telegraphed its attack, she parried the club with the bottom of her weapon, and in the same motion brought the hammer-end around into the side of his head. There was a loud crack, and the orc's skull shattered, his brain flying out and impacting on the wall with a squish.

The first orc's body toppled over, right into the second's path. This brute tripped over the remains of his compatriot, and landed in a clattered pile at Castiana's feet. With contempt, she drove the spike at the base of her pollaxe through the back of his skull.
 
Well, she really had gone and made a mess of things. The orcs lay dead, and the cavern beckoned before her in all its dark, gloomy majesty. No doubt it would be somebody's duty at some point to take care of this, or perhaps some of the beasts in the dark would come along later to feast on the bodies. Whatever the case, her path was her own. In the low light of the torch, she'd see that the cavern did continue to stretch onward, though there was a clear alcove not so far away where the orcs had been on guard duty. Playing some crude dice game, from the looks of things. As she went onward, of course, she'd note that the darkness did not last forever.

Indeed, it seemed that the cave threatened to open into a brightly lit area. Dare she venture on?
 
Whatever lay within that chamber could not possibly be holy in any way, and was doubtlessly in need of smiting. She picked up the still-burning torch in one hand, and carried her pollaxe over her shoulder with the other.

She marched into the lighted chamber without fear. After all, she was just and noble, and wielded the power of the Holy Litanies. What did she have to fear from these savages?
 
She did not know fear yet, but it was born from stubbornness and inexperience at best. When she marched out of the tunnel and into the lighted space, perhaps she might change her tune. Three of the bastards slain was, admittedly, no small feat. Orcs were known for their cunning brutality, and more than one veteran warrior had seen themselves stomped into the dust beneath their feet. She'd taken down three of them in short order, a deed to be admired... but from there, she walked into the belly of the beast.

The tunnel opened up into what was, essentially, a village within a great cavern. Homes and structures were carved into the earth itself, some built with crude stonework, others little more than hide tents around great, roaring fires. The entirety of the village was lit by flame, with a few bubbling pools of magma utilized for heat and light. Orcs milled about, going about their daily tasks, plenty of them opting to fight one another over perceived slights or simply out of boredom. A small settlement to be sure, but populated by dozens of the hulking green brutes.

She'd not been seen... yet. Though with that silvery plate in the light, it would not take long for something shiny to attract the gaze of an orc's beady eyes.
 
She dropped the torch, no longer needing its light. She knew she had to defeat these orcs to proceed, especially their shaman. She saw the orc warlock, his skin covered in unholy symbols and arrayed with profane fetishes, allowing him to channel the power of evil spirits.

She was arrogant, but not stupid. She knew that fighting all of these orcs at once was an impossible battle, even for her. She needed a plan.
 
There were more than a few orcs gathered around the warlock, who seemed to have been decorated in all manner of runic symbols painted in what could only be blood. The blood of who or what was difficult to say. The simple fact was, there was a ritual in the works, and the gods only knew what its foul purpose could be.

All that mattered in that moment, however, was that there were voices in the tunnel behind her. Orcs, returning from a ride out among the ashen valley. "Oi, wut's dis? Who brained dese nobs?" With that, feet began to move forward, advancing on her position. It was time to move; there were tunnels branching out all around the small village, leading to who knew where. If she was careful, she might reach them without notice. Emphasis on careful.
 
Thinking quickly, Castiana began reciting (in a whisper, of course) the Litany of Protection, calling upon divine favor to shield her from the notice of these orcs, as she retreated with great care into one of the smaller side tunnels. There she would attempt to observe the foul ritual in order to discern its purpose.
 
The gods favored their lone champion in this land with a blessing, permitting her a brief respite from the gaze of the orcs, who in the end all seemed to decide that the ritual was more interesting than the flash of silvery plate that darted back past the stalagmites at the edge of their raggedy village. She was safe, for the moment, as she entered a far tunnel.

The ritual reached a peak as the orcs chanted in their low hum, a shamanic drum beating from within one of the tents near the ritual circle. The warlock's gaze had turned towards the distant ceiling of the cave, eyes staring blankly as though his mind were a million miles away. Then the fires within the cave began to flicker as a new darkness took hold. Shadows seemed to coalesce among the orcs, slowly taking form and solidifying. The bodies they took, the forms... they were far from human. Far from this world. They came from somewhere beyond the void, each one different from the last. Tentacle-covered beasts of nightmare that had no place in this world.

One was summoned. Then another. Then more. More and more... and with how practiced the warlock was, it was no doubt that these were not the first to be summoned in these halls. It was most definitely time to leave.
 
For once, Castiana agreed. This would obviously require... at least four more Sword Sisters to clear out. She would return to her order, and get reinforcements.

However, as she mulled this over, she didn't see the purple-painted orc sneaking up behind her. Of course, no one's seen a purple orc, so no one sees them coming.
 
It would have been best if she'd brought a little backup, at least. Or, perhaps, an army. This was but a taste of what lurked in this mountain. The tunnels, unbeknownst to her, ran through the entire mountainside and far below the earth. All under the dominion of one great, dark being that was the heart of this land's power. This was but the tip of an impressively evil iceberg, and the woman had a long, long way to go if indeed she wanted to see this through.

Of course, she had more worries than that just now. The sneaky orc crept through the tunnels, spying what really was too good to be true. A human woman, crouching down and watching the ceremony below. Covered in all manner of good stuff, too. His face broke into a wide grin, huge teeth bared as he went for his weapon. Little more than a club, but damnably effective for his particularly violent brand of skullduggery. A quick blow to the back of the head would doubtless send her reeling, only to be grasped by the hair to keep her from tumbling down. "What's dis den, eh? Humie skulkin' about? Aw, da boss'll wanna know 'bout dis." His eyes turned back towards the village, though. "'Course... he won't mind if da boys get 'emselves a piece, yeh. So long as I get dese shiny bits!"

With that, she was thrown over a shoulder, her poleaxe left to clatter to the stone floor while she was hauled out towards the gathered orcs.
 
She was quite dazed, at first, as the orc clobbered her in the head, and picked her up. His foul odor, though, quickly brought her back to her senses. She reached out with grasping arms to where her poleaxe had fallen, its glimmering head receding into the shadows, beyond her reach. She then went for her sword, but it was pinned beneath the brute's arm. "Unhand me, you foul creature!" She said, striking at him with gauntleted fists.
 
The orc gave a cruel sort of laugh as the fists rained blows on his meaty back. It was as if she were a bee stinging an elephant. "Naw, humie. You's mine fer a bit." The brute exited the tunnel with her still perched quite helplessly over his shoulder, red eyes peering ahead. "Mine an' da boys'. Mostly I want dese." His hand went for her armor, thick fingers working to undo buckles and clasps. "Stoopid bits... but we'll get 'em offa ya right quick."

He marched on down towards the village, a big grin on his face. "Lookit wut I brought, boyz! Humie!" With that, she was thrown down roughly, orcs beginning to close in. The big purple beast who'd lugged her over reached down with some interest, plucking up her sword. Small for him, perhaps... but he began to pick his teeth with it. "Makes fer good teef-pickin', dis does." Others were already tearing at her gear, eager to see her out of it. One of them thought to make off with a shining vambrace, and the purple brute clocked him so hard on the head that he stumbled and fell. "YOU GIT! These bits iz mine! You get da humie, I get da shinies!"

The deal was struck, it seemed.
 
"You unhand me this instant!" She commanded as the beast fumbled with her armor straps. In response, it hurled her to the ground.

"OOOF!" she grunted, as the wind was knocked out of her. Then she returned to outrage, as her longsword, a gift from her Order and emblem of her status as Sword Sister, was used for picking teeth. "Why, you impetuous-" Her curse was lost as she shrieked as the orcs fell on her, beginning to tear her armor off.

"You will all pay for this!" She vowed as she was reduced to the padded undergarments she wore beneath her armor.
 
The big purple brute had brought the flesh, and in return it was agreed that he would be the winner of all the shiny goodies. Her armor was stripped away, every little clasp either worked free or simply torn away. Right down to the smallclothes she wore beneath all of the steel. The orc picked some foul darkness off of the end of his new toothpick, shrugging his huge shoulders at the sight. "Yeh, gimme them too. Dunno wut I'll do wif 'em, but yeh." Hey, hey'd won the prize. Best to take it all and worry about what to do with it later. Maybe it was a vital part of making it all work.

Her fury was largely ignored, however. While she struggled against the orcs, her undergarments were handled... less than gingerly. Big, brutish hands grabbed hold, pulled, and tore right through them. That earned the two who'd done it a thump. "You grots! Why'd ya go an' do a fing like dat?! Bah, give it 'ere. Might be dey're still useful." Disappointed in the ruined cloth, the purple orc accepted them nonetheless. That was about the time one of the big green brutes lowered the skins he wore for britches, others taking that as the signal to do the same. All at once, she was surrounded by a sea of enormous, monstrous members of a variety of colors.

That was when her ankles were grabbed by two enormous hands, and she was dragged across the stone floor to one of the greedy behemoths.
 
"EEEK!" She shrieked, as her undergarments were torn off, revealing her pale, immaculate flesh, including a pair of Double-D breasts with pert pink nipples, a well-muscled abdomen, a pair of pale netherlips with closely-trimmed curls, and a very pronounced and athletic pair of buttocks.

As the orcs drop their trousers, the truth of her fate dawns on her. "No!" She cried out, as she was dragged by the ankles, clawing at the rocky ground, "I will not have my purity taken by you brutes!"
 
She could say it wasn't going to happen until she was blue in the face, protest it all she liked. It wouldn't change the reality of the situation for a second. She'd waltzed into the heart of darkness and simply hoped that everything would turn out in her favor. As it happens, even the champions of the gods weren't invincible.

She was declaring her purity quite loudly, though it would be long gone in short order. The orc who'd grabbed her was wrenching her thighs apart, and she'd feel rigid flesh poking around her nethers as it sought entry. A huge cock that oozed seed at its tip was pressed against the lips of her womanhood, and there was a combination of forceful pushing of his hips and tugging of her body to spear her with it. Meanwhile others began to crowd her, groping and squeezing without a hint of tenderness, a stiff member pressed against the side of her face while others held her aloft. She was afloat on a sea of powerful hands and stiff pricks, all seeking attention.
 
"No, no, God please no!" She whimpered as her thighs were pried apart and the dripping cock started poking at her netherlips. "AAAAUUUGHuuuuhhhh..." She screamed in pain, throwing her head back as the orc's massive cock shoved into her tight, virgin pussy, robbing her of her virginity in one single stab. It felt like she was being run through with a hot poker. She turned her head away from the cock at her face, refusing to give into these beasts any further.
 
Her virginity was no longer hers, claimed by one of a dozen orcs, who was determinedly taking her. There were a few laughs at how well she screamed, the orcs taking some amusement in her struggle. Without adequate lubrication, and as tight as she was, the orc stuffed inside of her was having a difficult time of it... but it seemed he wasn't about to stop on account of a silly thing like that. The huge member inside of her ground back and forth against her inner walls, strong hips bucking against her with every difficult thrust.

She could turn her face away from one, yes... but she'd find herself staring right down the length of another. "She dun like yerz," the big red orc grumbled, shoving his comrade aside. Strong hands reached down to take hold of her head, forcing her lips against the thick, drooling phallus. When she continued to refuse, he yanked at her hair. "Oi! Open up, ya mangy grot!"
 
Castiana continued to struggle and cry out, as the giant, ugly cock repeatedly pounded into her tight, unlubricated vaginal passage. Tears rolled down her eyes, and her face was contorted into a pained grimace. There were no more haughty declarations or refusals of reality from her lips, only groans of tortured pain.

She looked at the red orc's cock, and pulled her head back. As he seized her by the hair, she decided that he would regret this, no matter the cost. He shoved his shaft into her mouth, and she bit down on it as hard as possible.
 
Every one of her previous threats to the orcs had been cast down, her pleas ignored and her declarations laughed at. Peasant or paladin, it mattered little now what she was. Her title now was plaything, and she was a poor one. Her pussy was dry as a desert, but that didn't seem to stop the orc from fucking her. It seemed all he was after was a warm hole, wet or not. Meanwhile, another had shoved his cock deep into her mouth, though he was not rewarded with obedience. He was rewarded with a flash of hot pain, which made him scream in terror. "WAAAAAAGH! MANGY SLUG BIT ME!" For her efforts she was rewarded with a mouthful of blood before he pulled himself back, only to rear back with a heavy hand and smack her mightily across the face. There were howls of laughter at the orc's wounded pride, hands roving over her flesh to grab at tits and ass. She was a spirited one, no doubt, but there were many orcs.
 
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