Warpath of The Demon Prince

The war camp of the Demon Prince, Krusious Zephanum, had settled itself across miles of open grasslands along the outermost edge of the Prince's territory. Well more than ten thousand tents had been erected and with them small fortifications had begun to arise. Generals and great Commanders among the Demon Prince's armies had placed walls around their personal camps, creating islands of defensible locations throughout the sea of white canvas tents. In the middle of the camp stood a true Fortress.

The outer wooden wall was a staggering twenty feet tall and sported dozens of siege towers along each side. Heavy gates opened to reveal what could only be described as a small town. The fortress was filled with half built structures, from stables to housing, and even a dedicated tavern. Further inside was another wall, though this inner wall was somewhat shorter. Through a second set of gates one entered the domain of the Demon Prince himself.

A massive platform in the middle of this inner courtyard rose several feet off the ground, atop which sat two things. The first was difficult to miss and commanded attention from all that entered the Demon Prince's camp, the grand pavilion. A sprawling tent structure with nearly a dozen spacious rooms beneath it's rooftop. The second sat in the entryway of the pavilion on a surprisingly plain chair, the Demon Prince himself.

Krusious sat with his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and watching everything before him in total silence. The burly warrior Prince was not dressed in silks or decorated with jewels, instead he wore nothing more than a series of leather and steal straps that hung about his waist like a kilt. His scalp was freshly shaved, leave not but black stubble for hair atop his head. The mystic runes that had been tattooed across his body gave off an eerie glow that cast intimidating shadows across his muscular form, and the scent of brimstone hung in the air around him.

Soulless black eyes fixated briefly on a pair of slave soldiers engaged in combat before his platform, someone's failing attempt to provide the Prince with entertainment. Suddenly the demon rose from his seat, standing to a tremendous height of over nine feet. The cloying scent of brimstone became more pronounced, and the tattoos across his body began to glow brighter.

"Enough!" His voice boomed, echoing from the inner walls of his camp. "Denara!" His black gaze swept his inner courtyard, and failed to find her immediately. "Summon my stained little Angel, and call for my kennel master. I've a mind to feed the hounds." The towering Rage Demon turned back to his plain throne, and dropped back into his original seated position.

While ostensibly Denara was commander of a full Legion under Krusious, in reality the once-angel commanded barely over a hundred men, culled from other legions and from those who survived her full and focused presence on the battlefield. She tested them all rigorously, constantly driving them to train and improve themselves, to show their devotion to her and her lord through strength and skill. They prided themselves on being the elite and fought eagerly for the chance to show their devotion to her.

It was perhaps a nod to Denara's tastes that a disproportionate number of her soldiers were women, but considering the ability she instilled in them, few people were in a position to care about gender.

When the runner found her, the angel was sparring bare-handed against a pair of other soldiers at the same time, practicing her curious and unique style that not only incorporated fists and feat but also her black-feathered wings into flurries of vicious blows and rapid movements. She feinted with the left hand, lashing out at one of the soldiers only to twist the motion into a kick that caught the unlucky woman in the solar plexus, a single beat of her wings accelerating that twist into a spin that batted away the blows of the other attacker, a young and determined-looking man.

She had been about to turn the twisting blur of wing and skin into a sudden headbutt only to halt as she caught sight of the messenger out of the corner of her eye and huffed in disappointment, holding up a single finger to forestall both soldiers from continuing. "Prince Krusious calls me. You two will have to conclude this match against each other, do not think to disappoint me by giving anything less than your best, even if I am not your opponent."

With that, Denara strode from the ring, summoning her armor over the bare-bones breastband and training breeches she had been wearing for the bout, red-trimmed black steel coalescing over her form. Her scythe remained un-summoned, not needed for anything at present as she strode through the second gates and into the Demon Prince' domain, approaching the throne to kneel before him not more than five minutes after he had given the order, red eyes looking up as she bent to one knee, black wings folded behind her. "You called for me Master?"

By the time Denara entered the domain of the Demon Prince everything had changed. The two slave soldiers who had been fighting for the Prince's amusement were now dead beneath a group of the Prince's unique breed of hellhound, being thoroughly savaged. The Prince himself remained in his plain throne, elbows resting a top his knees. His black gaze swept over the corrupted Angel briefly as she knelt before him. The Angel knew her Prince well enough to notice the change in his demeanor the moment his eyes were on her. It was as if her very presence was somehow soothing to the Demon. "Denara, how nice of you to join me."

When Krusious rose from his seat his body immediately began to change, his terrible height and girth beginning to shifting toward his smaller Incubus form. By the time he crossed his dias to stand before the kneeling Angel he was slightly over seven feet in height as opposed to the terrifying nine he had been moments before. Moreover, the choking scent of brimstone gave way to a heady cologne of pharamones. The Demon began to walk a circle around his kneeling Angel, his fingers reaching out to caress her wings as he passed behind her. "It's terribly boring watching a mock battle on the eve of war, Denara. Drums beat throughout my camp every night, stirring my army to a fever pitch, and still we are told to wait. My advisors say we are missing legions, and must remain patient still."

Krusious came to stand before the Angel once more, one hand reaching out toward her, an invitation to be helped to her feet. "I'm tired of waiting General. I need entertainment. I need a war. Find me one or the other, Denara. Now."

Patiently waiting outside the gate to the Prince's domain, J'Gyr breathed in the pheromones now present from his lord's domain. Having allowed Denara passage, with a small snarl, he knew the angel had set his lord's mind a bit easier. The days had been long and tense, though J'Gyr knew he was not under any such tension himself. Being the Thumb, and when times called for his unique skills, he was given independence to scout enemy encampments and report to his lord on movements. He was pleased to be present again at the Prince's side. Staying away for too long invited challenges to J's ability to guard the Prince. Not to mention, the Prince's safety is his first priority.

He missed the brimstone smell, these pheromones always set his instincts on fire. He might have to quench his needs tonight. An unlucky underling may suffice. Smiling, he extended his tongue out to its length, about the distance to his elbow, tasting the air a bit more.

Denara spared no second glance for the man beneath the hellhound, having seen far worse since her eyes had been opened. She did not turn as Krusious began to pace around her either, though her eyes followed his form and her wings trembled slightly under his touch. "The Troops are ready my Lord, they will go where you ask and kill at your pleasure." It was dark by now but there was an energy in the air, a tension that was not purely to do with her lord's impatience. The army was ready to move, ready to fight, and thus far they had not been given anything to do, and Bored Soldiers were as much a threat to each other as the enemy, if not more so.

They would march through the night if he asked, but as the pheromones washed through her body Denara found that the eager anticipatioin of Krusious' attentions that always affected her with proximity beginning to amplify, her heart beating faster as arousal tinged her pale cheeks. "They will wait the night however my lord, and if it is entertainment you require..." Given how Krusious had brought her into the fold while Denara was competent and professional as she had ever been in heaven's service she had also grown more wanton, and there was no greater target for her lusts than the one who'd revealed such pleasures to her in the first place. "As always, I am at your service for whatever you should desire..."

The Demon Prince simply smiled down at the Angel while she spoke. When she finished the brute leaned down toward her, closed his powerful hands around her biceps, and pulled her up to stand before him. "This is precisely why I kept you alive Denara. You're quick wit, and council are invaluable to me." A deep rumble of a laugh reverberated through the Prince as he set an arm around the Angel's shoulders, and turned with her to face the inner courtyard. His voice boomed through his camp once more, "J'Gyr! Get your scaly hide out here where I can see you!"

The Demon's bulky frame continued to shrink in on itself as he stood with an arm around his Angel. His attention turned back to Denara, and he leaned his head toward her ear. They were nearly equal height in mere moments as Krusious started speaking in her ear. "Gather up that little fighting force of your's Denara. I want them in formation outside my camp within the hour, understood?" He released her shoulders and stepped away. He didn't make it more then a few steps before he turned back to her, "Oh, and I want to see you in something more flattering then you're armor when you have finished. I'll be out to inspect your forces shortly."

The Prince walked down the steps of his dias to stand in the inner courtyard. His voice boomed again, his body beginning to swell toward his terrible nine foot form once more. "J'Gyr! I'll not repeat my order again!"

Whoever was the fool who thought that pitting two slaves against each other would be an amusing past time for their lord had made a merciless mistake. And his time will come, Azeerae was sure of it. Till now she was looking at all that took place from the ether, merged with the shadow of the Demon Prince himself. But now it was time to show herself.

A stunning frame of beautiful pale elf flesh manifested itself from the shadow. Naked and wet, clothes quickly followed as she soon stood before them in a transparent robe, sword in her hand. She quickle knelt before her master presenting him her weapon.
"My liege. My Prince. Your finger is at your command."
She was one of his personal guards, and today she was guarding him personally. She looked up at him with a smile, her pheromones already mixing with his making the room even hotter. And she was getting hotter herself.
"Also, my lips at your ears. What is your plan, 'o master? Were we not to wait for our belated generals? Are you maybe planing on making us a show of mating Denara with J'Gyr?" She smiled at the angel.

Garnex looked over the land as he stood near one of the outer guard towers overlooking the prince's castle and most of the far territory around it, his massive blade held ready at any moment supporting his large somewhat immobile tank like form. As the haunting blue stare from his helmet looking over the area for any possible threats ready to attack at any moment with vengeful spirit inside him wanting nothing more than to be sent personally by the prince to crush his savage enemies under his feet and come back with the feeling of wanting to bring more destruction to his enemies.

J'Gyr sped into the court, running on all fours. Appearing before his lord, he knelt down, ready for orders. 'My Lord, you called?' His was the only mind allowed, and willing, to communicate telepathically with the Prince. 'Prey-hunting will have to wait.' J'Gyr thought to himself. Whatever the Prince would order, will be J'Gyr's dedicated goal until it was completely fulfilled. He waited patiently, with no fear, as the Prince required his guard to remain chaste from terror overwhelming them.

"If it pleases my Master I would." Denara replied evenly with a sidelong glance to Azeerae, then bowed to Krusious' command. "I will see my troops readied then, it will not take long." Discipline and training did have some perks after all, and one of those was prompt efficiency of mobilization. She swept out of the tent past the other fingers of the hand filing in, her armour misting off her form as she sent it back from whence it had come.

Five minutes to collect her captains and ensure that they would see to the preparation of each platoon, five more to attire herself per her Master's wishes. Twining silver bangles encircled her wrists, ankles, and throat, while nothing more than a tabard covered the rest of her, loosely enclosed by a belt at the waist but otherwise open from the sides and below. She wore no undergarments beneath.

Five minutes later still, Denara was stepping back into the tent with the others. "Master, the troops and I await your pleasure." Unlike their leader, the legion itself was -for the moment- armored and ready to march. Six platoons of sixty women and men each, three hundred and sixty all told, not a huge force, but they did not need numbers. These were the elites of the army after all.

Soon garnex made his way himself back, deciding to check out the barracks again as his thunderous steps could be heard almost clearly a mile away, he would not take it on himself to be put into a position like this hoping very soon that he would be let loose into the hordes of his enemies wanting to destroy them and experience another timeless battle hard won by him alone. The hulk in armor had finally made it toward the center as he could see the two already planning something.

The Prince smiled down at the half demon woman as she materialized before him. " Keep your blade Azeerae, you'll have need of it soon." Krusious reached out to run a lock of the woman's hair between two fingers before he continued past her. "And no. I still don't know if Denara can reproduce, and I'll not be letting J'Gyr impregnate her just for a moment of amusement." He turned back to the halfbreed, smiling still. "It is a pleasant thought though. Mayhaps I'll have J'Gyr ride you before we march."

Speak of the demon, and he'll make himself known, the Prince thought as the lizard demon came to kneel before him. He laid a hand atop the lizard's head in benediction. "J'Gyr, just in time. I want you to gather up our best scouts, and have them assembled outside my camp within the hour. We are going hunting my old friend." The Prince waved a hand, dismissing the lizard. "Be quick my friend."

The Prince continued onward toward the gates of his camp once more. There he was meet by another of his personal guard, the towering black Knight known as Garnex. "Come along Elf." He waved a hand inviting his guard to join him. "Azeerae, summon the remains of my personal guard. You're shadow magics are less straining. Just a calling will do. Order them to assemble alongside Denara's forces. Five hundred total, plus J'Gyr's scouts will be just fine I think."

When Denara returned to her Prince's side, the demon looped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him as he moved toward the marshalling fields. "You look much better, my little dove." He whispered in the Angel's ear.

He smiled internally, allowing his Lord to see his amusement at the thought of Denara getting defiled at the hands of the lizard demon. Then, amusement turned to imagination, and another internal chuckle at whether she could handle both of his tools at the same time. He looked up at the demon prince at his command and bowed his head once, instantly darting away to begin gathering the scouts. He sent a greetings to Garnex as he passed, and another to Azeerae, along with a dirty image or two of the both of them together.

He made a list in his head, crossing off the ones who would be drunk or not worthy of the Prince's time. Smiling, which was rare and a dangerous site, he knew that things were going to get more interesting. Barking orders at each of them as he ran by, he knew they would be ready, under fear of something much worse than death, before the Prince's deadline. Making his way to the camp, he wondered what the gathering was going to accomplish.

With his hulking form in the armor he slowly made his way closer to the prince himself looking around for a moment, " Caldabolg will devour all of their souls...." raising his sword up and back so it was leaning held against his shoulder as waves of blue energy could be seen through the edges of the sword itself as if someone had passed some electricity through it. Garnex simply stood there and waited just wanting to charge and be the first to kill someone, but it seemed again he was a bit bothered he had to wait like this.

Sitting around was J'Gyr's least favorite thing to do. His men were kneeling comfortably, awaiting their orders. He would keep them waiting until the Prince had his say. The lizard started thinking back to Denara, her impure angelic form, violated by his dual semi-scaly tools. She would only be so lucky. The thought kept him warm as he maintained his vigil.

"Thank you Master..." The once-angel murmured back with a smile, shifting her wings to allow him to pull her closer, her eyelids fluttering closed for a moment at the scent of his pheromones reaching her again. Denara's loyalty was such that if ordered, she would happily service any cock her master ordered her to and enjoy it without restraint. Until ordered however, she remained by his side, a faint smile on her face as she watched the tight and disciplined formations of her fighters arrange themselves upon the field, ignoring the hissing and taunting of the other hands as she waited, her grip shifting as she idly drummed her fingers upon the ebon haft of her scythe.