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Warcraft III: The Tale of Princess Artha (Kaybee x east)

The diversion of one teenaged child had somehow brought the might of the entire military Artha and Uther had brought with them in the wrong direction. As the footmen arrived back in town it was already a bad scene, with people attempting to flee in every direction, a few of the smaller town houses were burning.

As they approached the gate a young man was running towards them and got hit in the back with an arrow. "Come on men, for Lordaeron!" The footmen charged ahead trying to restore order.

Garth found himself amidst the melee, fighting a larger Orc the young man really wished he had some armor at this point. The orc was wielding an axe and he was little more than a sword in hand. His goal was less about killing the orc and hoping to survive till Artha arrived. However in his actions he was drawing fire, allowing more and more townsfolk to escape.
 
"MAKE WAY!" Artha's best parade ground shout was a little ragged at full sprint but she manged to bellow nonetheless, her voice sounding over the chaos of the melee as she broke the treeline. "MAKE WAY!" She could see the orcs, massive and brutish against the footmen, her soldiers. Her grip tightened on the haft of her hammer and she lengthened her stride, crossing the distance.

"MAKE WAY! FOR LORDAERON!"

Then she plunged into the fight as an arrow of gleaming blue and gold, hammer twirling above her head as though it weighed nothing in her hands before she brought it down at the nearest orc she could see. A skull would split under the force of that blow, and it was merely the first of many as she laid into the enemies, a corona of blue-white beginning to form. The footmen would feel the effects of the aura, strengthening their bones and toughening their skin, reinforcing what armor they wore.

In that moment, an action that had begun as a fighting retreat at best (at worst and far more likely a noble sacrifice to save the lives of civilians) into a charge, her momentum sweeping up the men and women around her as she broke through the orcs and plunged on, into the flaming streets, scattering a few bursts of healing light towards the worst injured as she went.
 
Garth felt invigorated both at the sight of Artha, and at the sudden healing presence of the light. It wasn't much but it was enough that he was able to turn the tide of his own battle, and plunge his sword through the chest of the Orc he had been fighting. Breathing heavily and regrouping with Artha he rallied the few surviving footmen to their location and formed ranks now that the Orc's were broken. Putting as many villagers behind them as they could they rallied and crushed the remaining orcs in the town, but most were fleeing now.

And worse yet they were dragging nets of captured villagers behind them as they ran. Slowly the fighting died down, and it went from killing as many of the orcs as possible to putting out the fires, and healing the survivors.

Garth stopped to catch his breath for a moment looking to Lady Artha. "The village is secured my lady, but we can't settle. We should rally to Uther's camp as quickly as possible."

Garth was panting, his clothes covered in the black blood of the Orcs. When another figure approached them.

"My lady!" Timmy, walked up to Artha, his face almost immediately going red as he looked upon her, but still passed her a red potion. "A gift of thanks from me and my family. I'd be dead if not for you."

With that he quickly retreated from sight not wanting to stay to say any more that could humiliate his future queen. Garth sighed at least there was one family reunited among all of this chaos. He sighed. "We lost a handful of our forces, but hte majority survived the fires are coming under control we are free to move at your order."
 
"My thanks." Artha's eyes ran over the rest of the crowd, relieved that none of them looked at her in pity or embarrassment besides the boy, who was already turning to leave. He had truly told no one then, a good thing, a slight balm to the humiliation of awareness as she could still feel gnoll cum squishing between her thighs. In the heat of battle it had been nothing to worry about but as the adrenaline faded the disgust and disturbance returned.

She would be grateful to wash herself of these stains when all this was said and done.

Schooling her face into courtly steel, she turned to the footmen. "Half of you shoudl stay to ensure that the orcs do not try anything else, the remainder, follow me." Uther should have set up camp somewhere nearby. If they could link up, their combined forces should certainly be enough to wipe out the remainfer of their foe.

Five minutes later, she and those footmen who'd chosen to follow her left Strahnbrad's northern gate at a steady jog, delving deep into the hills and forests in search of Uther's location. Fortunately, it wouldn't be long before they found it.
 
Dividing the already devided surviving forces left Artha with a guard of five men, and as they jogged towards Uther's camp the tiredness of the day started to show on the men. All of them bloodied from their first true taste of battle, yet this day was far from over. Along side Artha was Garth who had been the first to volunteer to go with Artha.

Arriving at the camp it was an industrious work effort. Uther had taken his men, and conscripted a few more to add to the mix, He had taken a workers camp with a lumber mill and mine and set up his defenses around it, two hastily constructed defensive towers had archers aboard them. It was a true Ramshackle effort, but at the same time Uther was also on perimiter guard.

When Artha approached he gave his usual howl of "Well met"

Walking up to Artha he pulled her into a hug again. He could smell something was off, but made no comments on it. "good timing lass, I just sent two of my better knights to parlay with the Orc Leader, offering them a chance to end this bloodlessly. They should be returning any moment now."

There was a commotion at one of the towers, and two warhorses rode back to their camp, the saddles stained with blood, but no riders to be seen. "So... much for that plan." Uther said deflated slightly.
 
The short travel had given Artha some time to cool her head and she even managed to chuckle at Uther's typical greeting as she strode into the camp. "Well met indeed..." It was a slightly forced laugh, but it helped all the same.

Then the horses rode in, and the good mood was destroyed in an instant.

"Between our forces we've more than enough soldiers. Let us get in there and destroy the beasts already!" Every second that passed was a second her people were in danger.
 
"Artha calm down." Uther's voice was calm but authoritative, taking a moment to teach her. She may have gotten older but it seemed he still needed to temper her slightly. "We are weapons of justice, not vengeance if we do not temper our aggression than we become as vile as these orcs."

Uther took a breath and put his war hammer down, looking around the camp for a moment though she wasn't wrong they did have the forces to advance on their camp, but doing so could leave their supply lines in danger and the only people here were the peasants working those supplies. Thinking about it he probably should go himself, Artha was pent up, and clearly perturbed.

"I will go and scout the orc's encampment and try to find their numbers, you." He almost wanted to tell her to meditate like she was a child, but instead pointed towards the barracks. "Take a bath, cool your head, and catch up to me with a more even temperament Artha." Even if they left right now it would still be nightfall before they reached the camp, and more so. This would likely take a few days. He could go ahead and afford Artha a chance to calm down.
 
She flinched instinctively as Uther's instructive bark sounded, cutting through the faint haze of anger. Even so long after concluding her tutelage under him, she still knew when she was being told off. "U-understood..." Shaken, she nodded, but the anger was still there, burning within.

A bath sounded good, and proved to be relaxing in the physical, especially as it gave her a chance to cleanse the taint left by the gnolls, but worry and anger still gnawed at the pit of her stomach. Her people were out there, Uther was out there, scouting alone with no more than a token force, and she could not let herself stand idly by. With her body cleaned she turned next to care for her armor, washing the underlayers herself to prevent her humiliation at the hands of the monsters from being discovered.

When she strode from her tent, renewed, revitalized, and Uther still had not returned, it was with renewed purpose. Issuing orders to the enlisted peasantry, Artha prepared to move. "Set up a barracks for nightfall, I will go after Sir Uther and ensure that his forces are safe. Footmen! With me!" It was past noon, enough time to make a quick scouting mission of her own. Hopefully Uther would be alright.
 
Garth fell in line with two others as they walked with Artha to leave the camp. Setting out on their scouting mission. Garth had gotten a bit of an upgrade, he was now decked in armor, though it was stuff taken from one of the fallen footment of the previous battle, he had managed to clean it out and put it to use. Walking alongside Artha who had more illustrious... well everything he smiled towards her, but was a bit clumsy on what to say.

He had already seen one or two of his friends die, and the day wasn't over yet. As much as he wished to not dwell on his body he had to admit that this was pretty tiring. "Is being a man in your service always this exciting?" He did feel slightly empowered having to stand beside Artha, and better for it in all honesty. "I know you are worried, but know we will strive to get those people back, with you at our side." His voice quieted hoping he didn't jinx anything some worry showing across his face.

Then came a new voice. "Human! Have you come to join in the hunt with me and me boys!" A dwarf, and six others stepped forward, each carrying loaded riffles, at the ready. "We're hunting Searinox, a black drake. Fowl tempered beast. What brings you to these woods?"
 
"Today has been more eventful than most... I hope you wouldn't expect this kind of action all the time if you joined up." She tried to hold a joking tone but between worry and anger thrumming inside it came out forced. She had to admit the farmhand looked surprisingly good despite the fact that the untailored armor didn't quite fit him.

Oddly enough, she found herself hoping he would carry on with them. There was always more work for soldiers after all...

The sentimental moment was interrupted by a rough dwarven accent. For a moment Artha's fingers tightened on the haft of her hammer, eyes narrowing at the assembled rifles before she realized that they weren't aimed at her or hers. Holding a hand up to halt the men, she straightened. "Well met fellow hunters, we seek out orcs ourselves. Have other humans recently passed this way?" While she spoke pleasantries her mind turned. The heart of a black drake could be a powerful artifact if properly forged, and dwarves were renowned for their smithing prowess...

"Should you wish for help in hunting your drake, we could lend you assistance if you wish?"
 
Garth nodded trying to suppress a small chuckle as Artha joked. It was good to see the lady in a bit of a jovial mood, but he knew it was part of a stronger face, the internal struggle was probably hurting her. So as to give her strength he tried to put on the same face, holding himself to the same expectations as she did herself, even if he was just a footman in her army he wished to support her.

"Orcs?" The dwarf spoke and stroked his beard for a moment. He had seen some activity, and the smoke from the town they passed a few days prior he could put two and two together, and nodded. As for other humans he couldn't exactly say he had seen any sign of them. "Can't say that w've seen any humans aside from you lot, but then again we weren't really lookin, Still if it be orc's yah huntin lass, then me and meh boys can lend our aid, once we have shot down our prey of course."

The other dwarves let out jeers and pointed in the direction they had tracked their prey too. "We wounded the beast earlier, and he's been bleeding. If we follow the decay'd growth through the foliage we can track the beast, but it won't stay wounded for long."

The Dwarves set out towards their goal. While Garth looked at Artha. "Um... can we kill a dragon? that seems like... a larger job than just us can do."
 
"If it were a dragon then I'd be a little worried I admit, but these dwarves only mentioned a drake." Artha quietly tried to reassure her men. "Not that killing a drake is anything resembling easy." She gave him a gentle clap on the shoulder. "Worry not, I will do my utmost to ensure that all of you see this task through safely."

At Artha's urging, the footmen slowly formed up, moving their lines up until they were marching just ahead of the dwarves in a simple two-abreast column when the cavernmouth came into sight. "The beast's lair I presume." Artha hefted her warhammer. "Stay close, I mislike the look of those shadows, and there is an evil feeling in the air." It was like oil against her skin, greasy and unsettling. A telltale sign of dark magic being rebuffed by the light she wielded.

A skeleton came lunging up from where it had lain a moment before, eye sockets blazing with necrotic energies and jaw hanging loose, making it all of two steps before the hammer blew it's ribcage into so many splinters of bone.

For a long moment, silence reigned, interrupted by the faint tapping as shards rained down around them.

Then a clattering sounded from deeper in, and out of the darkness more appeared, a small horde of undead warriors in rotted armor wielding battered blades. "With me!" Artha shouted, all pretense of stealth forgotten. "Stand together soldiers of lordaeron!" They would be the wall, and as the dwarves opened up with their rifles, she understood that they would be the spear. As long as her line did not break, this would be simple.
 
"Undead?" Garth actually sounded a touch scared when they came across the first skeleton, watching the powerful impact of the hammer reminded him not to get on the princesses bad side, but was also a bolstering sight, as long as he didn't actually look at what the hammer had done to human bones. The skeletons charged forward, and the footmen formed a line on both sides of Artha, Garth at her side as they charged in.

Then the dwarves took aim standing just behind them and a burst of riffle shots sounded. Some were misses, but it seemed some were spot on target. Then came a clash of blades against shields. Thankfully these dark summons didn't seem all that strong. However the moment one man let down his guard a rusted sword pierced his throat reminding everyone that even weak enemies could still get blood.

Hitting one Skeleton in the head with the pommel of his sword he felt the skull crack, and watched the touch of dark magic leave it's eyes.

In the end the line didn't break, and despite the mismanaged equipment only the one man was badly injured, though still alive.

"Are these the creation of the black drake, or another force at work? How are skeletons moving about." Garth had no experience with magic, so this just felt obscene in some ways.
 
"They are likely the Drake's own minions, though perhaps he has pressed a necromancer into his service." Light pooled and flowed around Artha's fingers, reaching out to mend the gash in the unlucky man's throat. Her other arm clasped his shoulder, a firm grip.

"If you wish to leave now, I will not stop you. The undead are fearsome indeed." They were lucky, she knew. she had fought skeletons before with Uther, more dangerous, better animated skeletons. This drake must be weak, or perhaps simply unskilled in the necromantic arts.

She had to hope that there were not larger forces of such vile things lying in wait deeper inside.
 
The man healed, and for a moment all was calm but the truth was that the men who had just faced even a handful of skeletons were shaken. The Dwarfs seemed far less perturbed by the sudden occurrence of undead forces, they had been hunting the drake for a while and this was not his first batch, gathering closer to her the leader of the Dwarfs Feranor gave a nod. "Aye, we had a couple run ins with these it means we are on the right footing, the beast is close."

Garth turned to Artha and nodded towards her. "I'm with you." He spoke softly but reassuring her that if she was leading the charge against the drake he was going to be at her side to help. The other men however, and the one whom she had just healed were still very much shaken.

As he came back to life the one man gripped his throat and tossed down his sword and shield "I can't do this Princesses, I am sorry." The man said before turning fleeing, garth only stopped for a moment to pick up the mans shield as it was in better condition than the one he had discarded.

"Into the drakes lair than?" He said giving her a soft smile. the dwarf clapped Artha on her shoulder. "Aye and after the beast be dead, we drink to the hunt!"
 
Artha made no move to pursue. The undead were not to be faced lightly, and not everyone had the courage and power to stand against them. The vilest of darkness she could imagine. "Is there any other who wishes to depart?" She kept her voice level, her eyes soft. She could not, wouold not blame them for running, not against this.

A long moment passed, and she nodded. "To the hunt." She agreed. "I will take the lead."

Raising her chin and settling her warhammer on one shoulder, Artha stood tall and marched, a pale blue glow of her aura wisping off her as she stepped into the darkness, and the sound of leathery wings.

--------

It wasn't long before they found the drake's nest. A carpet of bones littered the floor, crunching underfoot as a hiss sounded from ahead of them. "Spread out!" She commanded as she saw the winged shape rise, gleaming eyes appearing out of the darkness beneath it. "Watch out for the flames and take care of the Undead! For Lordaeron! CHARGE!"

The hammer swung high, flaring with holy power as she lunged forwards to meet the advancing skeletons, illuminating the cave as the staccatto rattle of dwarven rifles split the air behind her, hammering the beast overhead.
 
"Aye sir!" The crowd resumed their offensive following Artha as she took the to the fight.

Searinox was a young black drake, injured as he was he would not go down easily. His hide like thick armor rebuffed most of the damage done by the guns that had been chasing it for a while. The few cuts and bruises that found their mark made his blood drip down onto the earth scortching it with heat and causing all natural growth to stop. It breathed out waves of fire at the enemies at it's door step but it was tired, hungry and hunted.

The dwarves cast out nets when the line could get close enough, and Searinox felt it's wings snare and it's body drop to the ground unable to fly away the men of Lordaeron fell upon the drake with viscious blades. It burned what it could defiantly but this battle was lost.

When all was said and done the drake laid down it's head dying as the dwarf leader started to work on cutting it's heart out so that it could be fastened into an enchantment for the princess. "It fought well, it was a hell of a hunt."

For his part in all things Garth looked at the creature, few had ever seen dragons and lived to speak about it, few more had slain one, this was a drake, a child. Sure it could command undead, but some part of this felt... off putting to him. On the one hand it was a great achievement on the other there was one less dragon in the world. "Kind of sad to see it go like that."
 
Artha took a slow breath, though her hands tightened on the haft of her hammer before she calmed. He knows no better, cannot hope to... Until today, he was little more than a peasant.

"Black Drakes are hardly pitiable..." She did her best to keep the anger from showing in her voice. She knew of stories where dragons were less malign, but none had ever told of blacks in such a role. "Of all dragons, they are the least pleasant. Cruel and selfish to the last."

Another slow exhale, tension leaving her shoulders at last as she set one hand on Garth's pauldron. "This was a mercy, not to that beast, but to all of Lordaeron. Better to have done this now than to have waited and lost lives to the dragon it would have one day become." A little shake, reassuring him as best she could before finally she raised her other hand, soft glow of the light's power blossoming in the palm. "I should see if healing is needed."

Whatever he had thought of her words, the sound of her conviction and the sight of her compassion as she walked towards the rest of the hunting party, back straight and healing light at the ready... It was an image to stick in one's mind.
 
Garth watched her as she went, offering healing to those who need, and mulled over her words. It was a sight to behold in the way she carried herself, and the way she spoke about the creatures end. What could have been. He had seen the creature perform necromancy, and there was no greater evil than that he knew as much, but he had grown up not knowing what to say, and yet as she walked it was the vision of a future queen that he watched.

He felt a small flicker of admiration, and the group healed. The camp of the drake was scared and life here wouldn't return for a long time. The rest of the men here were restless. The Dwarves on the other hand celebrated, as they finished the enchantment of the hard, containing it in an orb. The leader approached Artha, the orb in hand and passed it to her. "A reward for a hunt well done!"

"It's getting late, tonight we set up camp, and we drink, and we celebrate to the beasts death!" The Dwarves jeered happily raising their guns and starting towards a safer ground to make camp.
 
Artha nodded, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than she should have. The restlessness of her men had unsettled her in turn. Could they not see it? This victory? Perhaps a good celebration would be a way to rouse their spirits and help them properly appreciate the good deed they had done... "To your camp then! Come!" She motioned to the footmen. "A toast to our victory awaits!"

Perhaps a commemoration... A little dragon sigil on their helms perhaps? Something to mark this day well... Artha remained in thought as she followed the dwarves, letting her mind work as she plastered her court appearances smile on her face and laughed along with the rest of them. the jokes were bawdy and crude, but that was dwarves, and she knew they would only get more so as the night went on and the drink began to flow.
 
The further away from the corpse of the drake, and the afflicted land that they got the more cheer seemed to come to the men of the camp. Following the Dwarves back to the area they called home for the night was only a short distance from the war camp, but the feel of the place was much different. The tents were lined with various warm furs, and it didn't take long for them to crack open a cask of drink. Soon a warm fire was going, and though the sun was fading the group seemed to rally together the warm summer night allowing the battles to fade off for thoughts of tomorrow.

A round the fire, a few of the dwarves pulled out a few different instruments and sure enough music, drink, and food soon filled the air. The men had already taken a liking to Artha with her sense of humor, she was a refreshing change of pace for a human. Feranor the leader of the dwarves leaned in towards Artha, a heavy hand slapping her ass for a moment. "For Royalty, you seem a fine woman." The Dwarf spoke already three drinks in, a slight slurr to his voice as he relaxed. "Not like the prudes down in Stormwind, the Menethil family gets it! See boys this is why we stick to Lordereon! Good hunts, and fine women, what more could any men ask for."
 
Artha wasn't quite swaying yet, but in her distraction over the states of her men she'd begun to realize she hadn't been watching her drinking as well as she should have. Dwarven drink -no matter the form it took- was always strong, and while she was far from light, two and a half drinks of her own were starting to give the world a rather pleasant fuzz around the edges. "And you seem like a fine man yourself... For a dwarf." She stifled a giggle at her own reply and glanced around the camp.

She blinked at the realization. There were only two other women here, both of them members of the footmen she'd levied in the defense earlier, had it really been just this morning? That memory brought another memory, the gnolls, the humiliation... Artha shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware that her underwear must be a mess of monster spunk right now. Even if the fighting had gone long enough and proved distraction enough that it must have all flowed out of her right now she could still imagine the squish of it between her thighs... She suppressed a shudder and worried at the clasps of her pauldrons. Off, she wanted it off, she wanted to get out of this suit that was tainted by what they'd left inside her.

Abruptly she stood. "I would like to bathe. Is there a river nearby here?"
 
One of the girls a young Brunnet was having some difficulty dealing with the man handling of one of the Dwarves, when one of them got a little too handsy she put her mug into the mans face causing the dwarf to hit the ground with a hard blow, the crowd around her cheered for the fight and she just shook her head at it, walking towards Artha the moment that the princess had said that she desired a bath. "M'Lady, there is one not too far from here, my name is Elisabetta. I could lead the way for you if you so desire."

Garth was basically done with the party, the man had drank half a glass, knowing well to take it slow when it came to Dwarvish drinks, and he had no desire to be wasted come morning, and Feranor also got up from his seat, along with Artha, the dwarf for his part announced that he needed to take a 'strong shit' in the woods, and Garth simply looked between the two women. "I could stand watch and make sure you have privacy." Garth said glancing towards the dwarves and the rest of the men of the party. The one remaining woman seemingly in strong spirits announcing she would 'dance for the lot'

Garth turned to the men. "Don't drink more than you can handle, we will have an early march tomorrow, and I can't have the lot of you complaining about the aches!"

He turned towards Elisabetta, who started leading the way, the company of Feranor for the most part not argued.
 
Artha drew herself up to her full height and fixed Garth with a look. "Very well." She meant to flick her fingers and unlatch the breastplate of her armor but the motion proved to require a little more dexterity than she could manage in her state, causing a fumble and a clang before she finally pulled the front half away, the back half falling to the ground behind her. Between the pressure and the sweat of the day, the shirt she wore underneath clung tightly, leaving little of her toned stomach or full breasts to the imagination before she gave it a pull and straightened it out.

"Lead the way." She commanded Elisabetta, "no peeking." She added as an afterthought to Garth and Feranor.

The greaves and faulds stayed on as they ventured through the light undergrowth and came off as the two of them reached the edge of the stream. Tossed into a pile to gleam in the moonlight. Artha shucked her shirt as well, and thanked the stars for the gloom that hid the stain the gnoll semen had left on the crotch of her pants as she removed them too before wading into the water, hissing at the chill as it flowed around her thighs and touched at her pussy.
 
True to her request Garth set up on the other side of the treeline, drawing his sword, and grabbing the dwarf who had been just about ready to pull down his own pants in front of the two ladies, walking out of sight but not out of earshot. He could still hear them as the armor clattered down amongst the ground and Artha went to bathe in the river. He would admit his temptation was there, but he was more or less ready to act as her guard.

"Awh why can't we watch them bathe!" The dwarf's drunken protest was loud enough to be heard over the tree line, but Garth to his credit replied quickly and curtly. "Cause the princess commanded it, and because it's rude to watch a lady without their permission. Which is why I stand here, and why I have a sword."


Elisabetta for her part stripped off her armor not nearly as regal as the princesses, but she smiled towards Artha. She chuckled at the argument of the two men, and made no comment about the wet spots on Artha's clothing. She walked into the River, and shivered. "I admit, it's not as good as a drawn bath, but it's better than nothing. She grabbed a small satchel and passed Artha a bar of soap. "Would you like me to wash your back?" She offered pleasantly. The cold made her pink nipples stand on end, she was standing stark naked, brown hair matching down below as she was as trimmed as one could expect a lady in armor to be. Her breasts bounced slightly as she walked, her pale skin almost a glow in the moonlight as her eyes looked up Artha with some admiration.
 
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