Crossing the Forbidding Part 4; The Hero's Challenge (Patreon)

Monette faced a huge problem, one that needed to be solved before the elderian moved on the Central Square, the heart of the city. The nobility had lowered the gates and placed Mages at all the exits of the quarters. A response to her actions against the North End. From her perch atop the watch tower,  Monette controlled the people of the West End and was systematically making her way to  the north. Her faithful had begun taking citizens and guardsmen to be enthralled. It only took a three days before half the North End had succumb to the followers of the deranged succubus. The nobility was panicked.

The Duke of Braylaen, Harrowman Gastal; met with the mayor an excitable cheetah named Kardle Lowe and the remaining members of the City Council. Tempers flared as they could not agree with what was to be done about the succubus. Harrowman Gastal was a white lion known for his stubbornness. He wasn't a rude man, just a self assured one. This business had him questioning himself for the first time that he could remember. The Duke wished to deploy magic users from the Librarium and the remaining city watch to retake the lost ends by force. The council however feared that many innocents would die in the attempt. The east end council member proposed sending in a small band of the Duke’s royal guard to combat the Elderian directly and avoid a major battle. The South End council member proposed sending a carrier crow to the capitol and request the aid of the Raven Knights.

The Duke dismissed both options out of hand however. The Royal Guard was privy to knowledge and information that would spell disaster if they were to fall under the elderian’s sway and it would take too long for the Raven Knights to arrive from the capitol. Though admittedly that would solve the problem. The Order of the Raven Knights was founded to combat such supernatural threats. The Duke had long thought them unnecessary though and had fought vigorously to disallow them from having an outpost in his province, despite his god son being the leader of their numbers. He sighed. It was a decision that had come back to bite him it would seem. The noblemen knew they needed a way to stop Monette directly. To break her hold on the people and drive her back beyond the Forbidding. No one thought it possible to actually kill the elderian, though they’d certainly try if given the chance.

It was then that a knock came loud on the council chamber door. They wouldn’t know it at the time, but it was indeed good fortune knocking. Despite protest by the council, the Duke entertained the interruption, glad for some break from the constant bickering. To the surprise of the entire council, the guards stepped aside formally. It seemed they had a visitor of some importance. The Duke could hardly believe his eyes as the red haired caracal removed his hood and stood firmly in the doorway, bowing slightly. It was none other than the Count of Vonleah, Sir Adolyn Valenrow. He was Primus Corvinus of the Raven Knights, the commander of the order. The son of Duke Palence Valenrow of Evandale. He carried such lofty titles as; the hero of Raedgast, the ‘Crimson Raven’ and one of Lioncourt’s ‘Champion of Champions’. He was the right man at the right time.

Sir Adolyn was as well known as he was beloved, having fought to save the prince Vandell at the battle of Loden’s Deep and turning back the Saurian plot to take the entire royal family at Raedgast at the age of fourteen. He’d saved the princess Megan de Lioncourt from a cult of shamans who worshiped the elderians and wished to bring about another cataclysm of fire. He’d claimed the sword Durandal and slayed the Garvos, a beast of mana and rage. His family was thought to carry the blood of the eternians of old, he was a Champion without peers, though barely 24. He held the title Primus Corvinus for over a year and in that time had accomplished amazing things in defense of the realm. Though it was a title he had publicly turned down despite the King’s insistence. Seen as hero, champion and savior. He was all these things and perhaps more, but to Duke Harrowman he was also; godson.

The Duke greeted Sir Adolyn warmly, being sure not to refer to him as Count, as the young kinling hated titles. Adolyn fancied himself a Knight Errant and despised politics, nobility and most things that came with his birthright. It was perhaps this hatred that caused him to repeatedly refuse and outright shirk some of his more social duties as leader of the Raven Knights. The Duke could scarcely believe the plight of Braylaen had already reached the capitol or even Evandale for that matter. When he asked his godson how he’d found out about the cities elderian problem the young caracal seemed confused. It was only after a series of queries did the council find out that Sir Adolyn had no idea of the plight of their city. The Duke had forgotten that he’d invited the boy months ago to help train his own son in swordsmanship. An arrangement made so that Adolyn could try and convince the Harrowman to allow an outpost in his province. He’d need no more convincing now.

That bit of happenstance was more than the Duke could have hoped for. He did not even have to ask for Adolyn’s assistance, he knew the boy would help of his own accord. With a smile and a reassuring gesture the young caracal promised to have the situation handled before the night’s end. Harrowman Gastal was not so sure, but he trusted his god son. Adolyn had dealt with beast of mana, creatures of the dark and elderians as well. This was apparently not his first encounter with a succubus either. He seemed fairly confident in a nonviolent resolution. He assured the council that he would not be enthralled and that there were many different ways to combat a powerful succubus. Though he dont elaborate. With a kind farewell he set off leaving the council concerned, yet hopeful.

Sir Adolyn entered the west end alone. He did not seem put off by the acts of debauchery all around them. If it bothered him at all, it didn’t show on his face. Hailing down one of the naked guards outside of the watch tower, he politely requested to be taken to see the succubus. Her followers obliged him with little conflict. The interior of the tower was much the same as the exterior. Men and women fornicated and covorted through the halls. It stank of sweat and semen. The succubus’ thralls had casted away all shame and did not flinch as the count passed through. Up the stairs to the Watchmen’s Hall he stood rather amused by the debauchery of the Succubus’ thralls. Here they was magic involved. The show was quite a thing. He stepped over more past men and women feverishly having sex, their groans and moans enough to make even hardened soldiers blush. He paid them little attention and instead focused on the spectacle in front of him. There reclining on her thralls was the Succubus.

Monette’s eyes glowed as she licked her lips, staring rather feverishly at the new comer. She was feeding on the energies all around her and normally one more victim would have been beneath her notice. However she could tell right away that this one was different. Politely he greeted her with a bow. "I am Adolyn Valenrow; and who might you be?” he asked. Intrigued, Monette answered. She introduced herself as ruler of the west end and soon all of Braylaen, his grace and future master. Adolyn chuckled as he gave her a flirtatious wink. She was indeed very alluring, he could see how so many would fall to her, powers or not. He however disagreed with her assertions and asked politely that she release her thralls and leave the city with him. She could hardly contain her laughter.

Adolyn smiled as he approached, kneeling at her side and paying no attention to her thralls. He looked her in the eyes and asked sweetly what it would take for her to be done with all this business and to accompany him out of the city. The succubus laughed and remarked that she would never be done, that she would never be filled. She enjoyed the excess and nothing could be better. She was not to be sated or satisfied until she had it all. The Count of Vonleah had another small snicker at her expense. It seemed he knew something she did not. His casual manner intrigued her. Without a word, he stood then, unbuckling the sword strap from his back. With a coy smile he asked if she would like to wager that.

Monette looked at Adolyn as one would look at a fine steak. She could taste something of him just from being in his presence. He was different, far different from the mundane civilians all around her. A person’s character and their individual essence influenced their taste. Their quintessence if you will. Moods, emotions and desires flavored people and made them either foul or delectable. This man was the latter, perhaps one in a million and she could smell it. She unconsciously licked the air in his direction taking in his rare flavor. But there was more to him than that, something hidden beneath the surface. His was the eyes of one who had seen her kind. The eyes of one unconcerned with any threat she represented. He was peculiar and interesting. He was also dangerous and that made him delicious. This man would be the best feeding. She would make him hers, he would be her favorite thrall, a precious treasure to be used as she willed. 

Monette stood up slowly, carefully, and stared into his eyes. She pressed her powers upon him, hoping to take measure of the man. The young count just smiled and continued to unbuckle his armor. She tried again. Again he seemed not to take notice of her efforts. Monette growled softly in frustration. Sure, strong willed people were hard minds to dominate. But he wasn’t even trying. She just simply couldn’t penetrate his composure. He was confident and self assured, qualities that were delicious, but also made enthralling incredibly difficult. One used desires and insecurities to twist the minds of lesser beings. This man seem to be insecure about nothing. She could not figure what he desired. Casually he approached and asked her if she would lay with him. She was startled by his request. He proposed that he would be able to satisfy her and if he did that she release the city and leave with him. Monette smiled venomously. The fool was submitting himself to her clutches with a smile.

She laughed at his assertion that any mundane could satisfy an elderian, let alone a succubus. She wasn’t sure about that, but she was pretty confident. Now however, she now regarded his confidence as hubris. But she admitted their seemed to be no arrogance in him. He grinned wistfully and removed his armor and clothes completely. He stood before her a specimen of a man, all toned and defined. His body looked like it was sculpted out of clay. Not too muscular, not too thin. His face, his eyes, his body. Monette was sure that this Adolyn Valenrow had the physical equipment to seduce a lady or two. She did not feel any shame at openly admiring him. Soon all of that,  all that he was would be hers. She could hardly wait.

"Alright, if you can pull of that miracle I will submit to your request" she soon replied. In her mind, the was battle already won. She felt certain that had this man wanted to, he could probably evict her by force. He had that aura about him, not to mention the strange power coming off that sword of his. She’d have to have her thralls hide that thing before this was over. Could be trouble. Still, he seemed unwilling to use it on her. He seemed more than willing to lay with her, to attempt this fool wage of his. He was going to submit himself to her feeding and her control. With him she would be able to take the city in no time. "Come little Adolyn, show me what makes you so special ," she taunted.