The soldier shifted with the black cat's punch and her fist graced off of his armor.
* * *
The seargent smirked as he ruthlessly lapped at the priestess of Sune's dripping petals. “You're close, arent you?” he snickered. “Your thrashing's getting weaker, you want this.”
His tongue closed ruthlessly in on her clit, priming her body to be driven over the edge...
Sounds of battle erupted outside!
The sergeant snarled what could only be a curse in a language that was foul to begin with. “Wait here, girl,” he dropped Olivia's rump on the table. “I won't be long.” Drawing his huge blade, the sergeant unbolted the door and strode outside into the chaos.
* * *
In a darkened window, a man looked on calmly, but scowled. He turned into the room. “Jacob, wake the Count and inform him I have suitable cause to take action against the west gate night watch. Tell him I request a fully armed company of men at arms to arrest them immediately.”
A young quire nodded, “Immediately Sir Mathew.”
* * *
The door to the guard tower swung open and a big, burly sergeant. Seeing the chaos, his eyes widened for a moment.
Then he grinned a wicked grin.
His teeth were suddenly sharply pointed, thickening into tusks.
The sergeant let out a booming laugh as he grew six inches taller, nine inches broader. Horns sprouted from his forehead and his skin took on a golden caste. “Yes...” he breathed, hard to hear over the fighting. “Chaos, yes, what beautiful corruption.”
“Fight men!” he called out. “Fight for what's yours!” The fiend raised his great sword and surged up into the fray.