#PLEASE IM BUT A HUMBLE MONSTER FUCKER

[kit-williams]

God please give us some Space Marines

I am this 🤏 close to learning how to animate in 3D just give some much needed space marine porn.

you'd be the hero we need, and deserve.

would pay for a animation of getting spitroasted by two Imperial fists

[mothiir]

sorry to be that rehash that droid de suggondeez plotline (I REFUSE TO CORRECTLY SPELL FRENCH) with big e stealing a wife but could we pretttty ppLEAAAASE get some more mothiir? i am obsessed with the eldritch inhuman but human behaviour you write him with. it makes me want to chew on him while simultaneously wanting to beat him with a brick out of hatred. i have so many ideas. but ill take anything you offer up fr ill live off the scraps like a feral dog, its just that the the whole david and goliath vibe is TASTYYYY. please dignify my complete insanity for just an intsy winsy second because all i can imagine is how utterly FUCKED the stolenwife!reader's pov is. you try fight back a little too much? oh haha, ur so cute, but keep biting or scratching him and he'll sicc one of the custodes (or a few) to really try you out. let you be so overstimulated youre begging for something in you, and oh boy big e'll sooo do that dont worry. or maybe humble you by keeping you basically half bare like yeah not so cocky now LMFAO IM SO SORRY I NEVER GIVE PROMPTS SO BRAZENLY LIKE THIS BC IM A COWARD FULL OF SHAMEEE UR SO MUCH BRAVER THAN MEEE (thank you sm if you do or dont run with anything i spat out just then)

first of all, never apologise for requesting stuff and also i totally respect your disrespect of the French language. as an englishwoman i am contractually obligated to hate those frog-eating bastards (disclaimer: this is satire pls don’t cancel me). secondly i absolutely love your description of my interpretation of big e because it is also exactly how i feel about him. beat him with brick, pat hair, back to brick. I know i have moved away from that content but I still wave my emperor fucker flag and am always taking requests for him

i promise there will be actual coherent fic soon, but for now here is a bullet pointed list of the sort of things that guilliwife experiences (if there is one in particular you want a full fix of let me know):

the Emperor steals you, and does not think to tell Guilliman — why would he? He fucks you, enjoys it tremendously, then has to go and do some important Master of Mankind warp fuckery that means you spend about a fortnight in some random rooms with no one to talk to but the Custodes. And they barely talk! You never work out if they are bodyguards or prison guards, since you can’t imagine that you are important enough to warrant guarding, but you also don’t think that there is much effort needed to stop you escaping. Where would you even go?

It would be so much easier if he was always a selfish monster in bed — but he isn’t. Worse: he eats pussy exactly how you think a man with millennia of practice would. He likes bringing you to the very edge of orgasm and just stopping, pillowing his cheek on your stomach and watching as you whine and cry, partly with guilt and partly with sheer frustration. You end up begging him to fuck you, stumbling out every title you can think of — lord, emperor, sire, master — but his patience is limitless, and he can keep going for hours, until you’re completely insensible, promising every depraved thing if he will just stop teasing and put it in you

You belong to him. No one else is allowed to touch you — apart from valdor, one of his oldest friends and dearest allies. And captain Kytan. And a few other custodes. Sometimes at the same time. They’re extensions of his most absolutely not divine will — they can partake in the same luxuries he allows himself, otherwise what kind of a leader would he be? He likes seeing his best soldiers happy, especially when it’s because valdor is balls deep in your arse, while he enjoys the sweet warm stretch of your throat. You jostle and whimper between them, so full that you can barely breathe, and afterwards the emperor watches as valdor thumbs open your cheeks, just to watch your holes struggle to close up around the shape of his cock. Still, valdor can’t linger too long - there is already a line

He will cum inside you so much you swear your stomach bulges a little from it all. You have nightmares about popping like a balloon

eventually word reaches the Emperor that Guilliman is looking to speak to him as a matter of urgency — he is currently buried deep in your throat, enjoying the cute little gluck-gluck-gluck noises your gag reflex makes as you try to fit him all the way into your tight gullet. He does not ask you to stop this before answering the vox from a distraught Roboute, who is blathering about his fiancée going missing? The Emperor chuckles a little to himself, patting your hair — ah, having a woman to be wed and a woman in his bed, Roboute is far more like his father than first thought — wait. Ah. Singular woman. Singular. Shit.

[furrbbyx]

To the curious slutty Monster Fuckers:

I’m glad you stopped by my raunchy little slice of the gay app.

This is my indulgence. I come here for encouragement and to share the nsfw things that I find and that I create. As my guest, I hope you feel comfortable and that you enjoy your stay.

What is there to do on my humble ranch?

The Stables: Everything having to do with my OC Sable the anthro unicorn who likes to help encourage the debased, depraved desires of monsters and humans alike

The Ranch House: monsterxhuman stories. All gender pairings

The Pasture: monsterxmonster stories. All gender pairings.

The Saloon: Entertainment for all ages. No smut.

Special interests: Inflation, breast expansion, milking and lactation, fatfur, furry and anthro, breeding (but not pregnancy tbh), slime, oviposition and being an egg slut, edging, hypnosis, brain drain, inhuman genitals, size difference, powerplay, dubcon, yandere, pathetic men, robots, aliens, monsters, everything gay shit, making you cum, vore, bondage, cbt, tentacles.

Please do: send me lewds, newds, asks and fantasies. DM me for chit chats (I’m chronically online). Reblog my smut.

No thank you to UNDERAGE MINORS in all countries. DO NOT INTERACT OR I ENACT THE BAN HAMMER. Im not interested in being followed by or sent hate by anti-Black, racist, transphobic, fatphobic, or fascist tumblrinas.

If ur Black or Indegenous, queer and or furry, I follow back.

Do not Copy or reproduce my work.

Tags of interest: #furrbbyx #monster milk duds #things monster lovers think about #its a terato thing dont worry about it

[the-house-of-the-nine]

In Depths Below: Lament Part 1

((If you follow our work you should know by now, the [    ] lists our mun/muse writers with their original work.  Enjoy the continuation of our story please!!))

“Kel’kiros.”

The lead man slowly slipped his pistol into his holster.

“We need ten minutes, then we are air bound.”

“Yah’ll ‘ave yah ten.  Yah be sure tah tell yah boss when ah’m done wit’ these fuckers. . . Ah’m comin’ for ‘im and the Kash’ebahl.”

And with that, Kel’kiros Kael’esett slowly ascended the staircase on his way to the bedroom where he would wait for The Nine to arrive.  With polearm in hand and his massive armor shaking the floor as he quaked, it would be an ambush they would never expect...

Moments Later in the Halls of the Bastille. . .

[  L.K  ]  Kross was calmly moving through the hall of the Bastille doing as he had done every day in the past, and every day from this day, in his future. The upkeep and maintenance of the hallowed ground was paramount to his existence. Kross was after all head of the house and kitchen. Let’s face it, as steward, his duty was to fully look after everyone here and the whole ground itself.  Never a book out of place.  Never a weapon left abandoned. 

Being dead had its perks for Scourge and Forsaken alike, but being cursed; well that was different all together.  The old spirit would remain trapped in the endless loop of undeath roaming these halls tirelessly for eternity.  Or until the phylactery he kept somewhere in the Bastille was destroyed.

Time dilation happens in a way that allows those who are wise enough to detect its movements, a chance to expect arrivals through that grand entrance door. Such a talent was limited to; but not lost to the others, primarily Lazarius and Kross, who spent most of their time here. But no doubt as Confessor, Verzatea Duskflame would likely detect these influxes and the comings and goings of the entire order with her web of intelligence. But Kross was vigilant none the less.

On this particular evening it was known to the old gilnean where his charge was at all times. He was proud that Lazarius was spending a great deal of his time in Stormwind, it meant he was searching for new blood. It meant he was keeping true to his duties as the High Inquisitor. But he also knew that the gentleman needed leisurely experiences, and that was what he had assumed tonight was.

He had mentioned meeting with Zalra to Kross, a “personal” day. So it would come as some shock when the keen old steward detected the door activating and her talisman being used. So much so that he had paused to observe the door, ceasing his cleaning all together.

Zalra would more or less come through the door in haste, it was shut behind her limiting what the old steward could see. But clearly from the look on her face something was abruptly ending her evening.

“Zalra Azurestar .... your arrival is most unexpected, I had thought you were deeply entrenched behind Stormwind lines”. Kross was shocked, just a bit as his tone portrayed. It took a lot to push the old man past concerned and into worried.

[  Z.A  ]   “No matter what Zalra... thank you... thank you.”

If it hadn’t been for those parting words, Zalra would have emerged into the halls with a look of determination upon her face. There would have been a proud posture about her as she would find those she needed to get the Inquisitor back. However, she didn’t. His thanks caused her to wince; it caused her to turn around and look back, only to be disappointed with the sight of the Bastille’s hall closet interior instead. What else was she truly expecting?

Turning around she unsurprising saw Kross, and immediately registered questioning her untimely and unexpected visit. Seeing the steward send a very brief moment of relief over her as she stepped forth. With a steady sigh, she regained the little composure she unseeing let slip from her.

“Kross,” she breathed in the cold air of the Bastille, finally.

Elsewhere in the halls...

[  V.D  ]   There had been a sluggishness to Verzatea's existence that was not so easily mended by Brinys's over all presence. There was great joy in her heart which made each day tolerable in it's suffer, just seeing her daughter grow and experience all of her firsts, but there was another piece of living that she had neglected in her desire to submerge herself in motherhood. Duty. Duty is what had brought the maiden from her room, absent of her daughter who had been given to a well trusted student.

What gave Tea peace of mind in allowing her daughter to be in the company of someone else who wasn't of the high council was the fact that she could easily see where within the Bastille they were, often checking up on the girl and her daughter with a mere flick of the wand. Thus, knowing her child was safe and she herself was free to do work as needed.

Verzatea would arrive in the great hall, lingering in a doorway and leering from the darkness whilst adjusting and fluffing the frilly fabric attached to the waist of her peplum dress. The dark red fabric did well to contrast against her paling skin, vibrant green eyes watching on curiously, brought here by the oddly familiar though hard to place presence which had bustled through the doors so quickly. It hadn't set off her alarms, which therein told Tea that who ever had come was of the Nine.

For the moment in which she spent staring aimlessly at the on goings within the hall she also spent it at length trying to determine if there was more that she had been left out of. If there were more people who were entrusted to go beyond the Bastille halls, if there was more at play than she was aware of. Such was a humbling, if not deeply humiliating, thought. How long had she been reclusive from the inner workings?

[  R / L  ]   Raith had exited the grand library for a brief moment, just to get a snack. He couldn't continue his goals on an empty stomach. He made sure to avoid Brinys whenever he could - he didn't want to see that rapidly-growing monster. Once he'd gotten a little something to eat, in the form of a cup of hot tea and a small plate of scones, he paused upon seeing Zalra on his way back to the library.

Sharp eyes focused on them - he'd been in his studies so deeply he hadn't had a chance to meet them. Not bothering to hide, he simply stood in a hallway, staring down Zalra and examining her. This one better not have been more competition for his rightful place.

[  L.K  ]   “You look at your superiors with contempt, not respect. Learn early little prince, without loyal subjects you will be missing your head in no time flat.”. Marseille, the first shade to Lazarius slowly took a place beside Raith on the upper level peering down at the incident below.

[  R / L  ]   “I’ve been adopted for a reason. If it’s not to rule, then I can’t imagine what it was for. I’ll be less aggressive when my rightful place is no longer at risk.” Hissed Raith softly to the shade. “Who are you to question me anyway?”

[  L.K  ]   “Your rightful place is to serve this order as all who come before you. Not step onto a throne you are assuming is entitled to you.”. The Shal’dorei hissed right back.

“Your ‘father’ would disown you if he heard you, this is a council and a home of freedom for these people, people who put their lives everyday on the line to protect that freedom.”  The whitish pink eyes of the shade watched closely below and turning only for a second to address the ‘prince’.

“Forget my words and on your coronation day I will personally end your reign as the shortest in documented history.”

[  R / L  ]   Raith couldn't believe his ears - or rather, he didn't want to believe them. "They saw potential in me," he growled.

"They knew I could be better than what I was. If they're not going to use me properly...ignore my developing talents...then perhaps, I should leave." the boy gave the shade a rather serious look.

A look of utter disdain and hatred, a look that reflected what he always felt for the world. Nothing is ever fair! he thought, and indeed, the world hadn't been particularly kind to him. Not even getting adopted seemed to change his view of the world, it had given him no hope.

He been found in the Ghostlands, and later in Silvermoon, at such a young age because the world simply wasn't fair. He was thriving back then only because he had given up on hope of the world suddenly becoming fair to him.

With that, he moved to head to his bedroom. If he wasn't stopped, he'd commence his newfound plans to run away.

[  Z.A  ]    “The Inquisitor has been apprehended by bounty hunters.” She cut to the chase, knowing there was no time to unleash any filler of the situation.

“Kun-Lai Summit. Someone by the name of Magister Dawnseeker tracked him there. He mentioned something about “paying up”. We need to get him now, they might still be there!”

Now that the main concern had been unleashed upon any ears that were intentionally listening, she began to go into detail about the new devices that were used to capture Lazarius.

“They had these…cuffs that eat void magic and prevent anyone from escaping on that power…” The Sin’dorei disguise void elf turned her fel-fire eyes to Kross as he stared at her with a narrowed gaze.

[  V.D  ]   The Confessor stiffened up, her lips pressing into a firm line.

[  L.K  ]   Dawnseeker. Kross could hardly control her even as she nearly burst at the seems trying to express how much panic was ensuing over the last few moments of her interaction. He would almost institutionally reach to calm her as he placed both hands on her shoulders and narrowed his vision into a stern glance.

"Dawnseeker. . ." At the talk of bounty hunters and devices, Kross peered around the hall, hoping someone would have been there to aid them but alas. He was alone. Dammit. "Calm down Zalra. . . Calm yourself. If he sent you here. . .it must have been for good reason. To get help." He was unsure how to react with the girl, Kross had not had much experience with her save for a few introductions here and there.  He once helped her settle in her chambers when first arriving with the rest of them since it was many of the new orders first time within the Bastille.

"Where is Vari. . .gods be damned.” he muttered to himself.

“Someone get me The Harbinger. . ."

Kross would do the only thing he naturally thought he could in a situation such as this and moved away from the panicking huntress. He stepped silently toward the large brick terrace just off the main entrance way, and in the cove there was a large braided cord. It was gripped and pulled three times. The bell that was attached to it would sound through the entire hall, the entire Bastille for that matter.

He would alert every last person alive and even dead with the sound of that bell. The same bell that some of them may remember was used to announce the invading Gallows when the Bastille fell.

"Zalra. . . We will get him back. If I know Lazarius. . .he is stalling them. . .just calm yourself and breathe.*" Kross repeated as he looked toward the upper level waiting for a sign of help.  It would almost seem as though he was trying to reassure himself of that same fact.  Be calm.  Do not panic.

[  R / L  ]   Raith was the only one who would be absent from the bell's call, no doubt. He was almost to his room, now. A few more paces and he could begin packing. A few more paces...and he would be done with these people who had come to raise him.

Done with these people who failed to pay enough attention, failed to interact with him. Failed to parent him...and worse yet, dared parent another with care and gentleness in front of his very eyes. Brinys will get what she deserves one day, but not today, he thought.

[  K.A  ]   Koltun stood outside of Raiths room, felfire glowing brightly through the worn fabric of his bandana. He didn't necessarily need to cover his eyes among those within the household, but he felt some propriety could be used. Even when used to seeing undead knights, void elves drained, and other horrors, it could still be unnerving to look up into the empty and burnt sockets of an illidari. Even if orbs of fel fire had taken up residence within the pockets. Large horns curving out and up from the main of his blond hair were tipped to the side slightly, the hunter cocking his head to regard the boy with silent curiosity.

He had heard the bell, hastily cleaning blood and gore from his claws and chest before heading out to answer the call, on my to see Raith heading the -other- way.

"Bastille hallways can be confusing, hmm?" The hunter rumbled, stretching a wing out with a small shake.

"I knew the halls of the Estate since I was younger than yourself, and even I still got turned around, but here? Forget it." His other wing stretched out, blocking the boys door in a casual manner.

"It would be my honor to accompany you to the call of the bell. Sounds important."

[  R / L  ]   Raith scowled at the wing blocking his way. "You don't need to, beast. I'm leaving." he spat.

[  Z.A  ]   Zalra felt her cheeks flush briefly with a rosy tint. Embarrassment crept up her throat as Kross suggested she calm herself. She was trying her hardest to have a strong stance to her report, but the old man had more years than her to read people more accurately than others.

When Kross’ hand’s gently steadied her shoulders, the ‘Sin’dorei’ tensed noticeably but did not shrug away. He was trying to help the situation and she couldn’t blame him for his efforts. She wasn’t going to be rude to the steward and shake him off, so she stood there accepting it.

Her mind was clear as Zalra prepared herself for the plan that was developing in the minds of those present; well…she hoped so. The situation was unfamiliar to her. She couldn’t formulate anything against this mysterious Dawnseeker.

[  K.A  ]   Koltun arched a brow at that. "Leaving, hmm?" And planted the rest of his body in front of the door, dominating it completely. He could have moved, could have simply let the boy run off, perhaps he would have, once upon a time. But something inside said no.

“Why?" He asked simply, folding his arms over the tattooed expanse of his bare chest.

[  R / L  ]   “If you idiots won't let me be useful, won't use my talents, or even give me attention, then I don't see why I'm sticking around.” said the young elf as he tried to get around him, failing.

[  K.A  ]   Examining his claws, the hunter remained silent, pursing his lips thoughtfully. Tucking his wings back, he stretched, then hooked an ankle over the other, full on leaning upon the door. It gave an uncomfortable creak beneath his weight, but remained firm.

"Mm. I see. How odd. For some reason I thought you were stronger than this. I dont know many your age who are granted schooling to enhance your skills and broaden your arsenal, the freedom to work on them at your pace, and a home with a roof and fine food. Those seen as strong individuals are rarely given coddling. They don't need it, it hinders." Koltun brought his arms up to hook behind his head, shifting his gaze to the ceiling.

"At least that's how I saw you. In fact I was downright jealous you were loved enough to be granted so much luxury... I wasn't when I was given to the estate." Tilting his head, Koltun regarded Raith.

"Guess I didn't need to be jealous. Only weak minded creatures throw tantrums and run away. Actually makes me sad. Wanted to get to know you."

[  R / L  ]   He pinned his ears back. His pride would no doubt be wounded. Clenching his fists, he told Koltun through nearly-gritted teeth, "...I'm. Not. Weak."

[  K.A  ]   Dark lips peeled back in a small grin, pearled canines peeking past.

"Oh? If you weren't weak, why are you running? Why are you throwing away opportunity only to return to dismembering rats on the street for fun? Looks less like a string decision and more like a weak temper tantrum to me." Kolt removed his bandana to dramatically run his eye with a fist.

"Woe is me! I'm not seen as useful because I'm still learning how to be better than I am now! Poor me, they want me to be the strongest but I'm too weak to see that so I'm going to run away! They care about me so much they adopted me and gave me opportunity but they're too -busy- trying to keep things running and everyone alive to pay coddle me except this damned illidari! Gods what an asshole that scaled beast is! How dare he -care-" He stopped and gave Raith a flat look.

"Sound familiar? You say you're not weak? I'm willing to believe it. But you have to crawl before you can walk, and walk before you can run. I'd rather see you at full strength with all the knowledge offered to you from here, than see you flail about like a fish our of water, whining you're strong and half assing your abilities because you cant see the big picture."

[  R / L  ]   Raith was silent for a while, but still scowling. "...Then I'm not running away." he said, turning on a heel to head to where the bell had originally summoned him.

[  S.D  ]   Between the sound of the bell and the overwhelming emotions flooding the halls from Raith, the Compellor rushed from her quarters. Had it not been for the wall of rage from the boy she would have likely ran into Kolt. “Both of you, please stop..” she grumbled holding her temple. She looked to Raith and reached for his hand as she too headed towards the sound—saying nothing but hoping the pained youth would take it. Which he did.

[  K.A  ]   Koltun smirked, rather proud that he'd thus far successfully prevented Raith from leaving. Perhaps he could have approached it differently, but the pride and anger he saw in the child made him realize that conventional methods, like ones he would use on Vari or Siida, wouldn't work. So he took things a bit tougher. In his eyes, Raith could do with a small dose of reality. As Sennaris emerged, he held his hands up.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help here." He offered, falling into step behind the two of them to answer the call.

The last thing he truly ever wanted to do, was be asked to hunt down and kill Raith if he left. He never kidded himself, he was not a good man. But even he put a limit on harming children.

[  V.D  ]   From the threshold in which she hid herself Tea would emerge in the Great Hall with a look of grief, alas she didn't look so overwhelmed. She looked determined. In her hand was her wand, the extension of her arm, the filter which helped concentrate her powers into booming magnificence.

Her hair fell into her eyes as she'd bow her head toward Zalra and Kross, given she didn't fully straighten herself though she did not speak. There was a frog there, stuffed inside of her throat, making it hard to swallow, to breathe

[  L.K  ]   Kross who had been waiting patiently for the rest of them to finally get there, turned upon hearing the sound of footsteps to notice it was Verzatea.

“Confessor...Did you not hear her? What are you doing just standing there! Defense of our Inquisitor, Students and Magic users now!”. His eyes were glowing fiercely white as her turned back toward Zalra.

“You came through, reactivate your talisman and take us back.” 

“And somebody get Vari for the love of the Gods below!” Kross grabbed hold of Zalra and shoved her toward the door to hasten the need for action. “And find Koltun, maybe the demon can use his lack of eyesight to track him!”

In and entirely separate action, Marseille would leap over the side of the upper level and gracefully descend to the floor below, silent as his soft bare feet touched down against the stone. He would reach for the individual knives on his belt and count them lightly before nodding to assure he had them all, and also the tomahawk against his spine pushed between his belt loop and clothes.

[  P.K  ]   A raven within the rafters watched everything unfold, the beaded eyes shifting from onyx gems to stark-blue to match its mistress. Upon Kross’ command, he let out a wicked caw that was ominous and echoed through the halls. Upon hearing such deep within the bowels of the Bastille, her eyes shifted upward and a look of sudden fear overcame her visage for a mere moment. It was a fear not for herself, but for her brother.

As she trained the cultists, her eyes would then transform to that of the onyx beads of her raven, the pair exchanging vision a moment. She witnessed Kross in a rare state of unease and urgency and she barked her orders to the recruits that they would be needed soon enough.

The more elite of the army gathered around, circling them, readying to shift gears at the call of their mistress. Vari whirled away from them and within moments, the frigid aura was felt by all within the Grand Hall as she'd used her supernatural speed and strength to scale the underground tower. The chaotic whispers of madness that radiated from her saronite armor would be felt as the ominous clomps of plate along stone began a harsh echo along the walls before ceasing as she stood in place near the hall entrance, taking in the scene of congregated bodies before her.

She stood atop frost, fingers of ice now snaking outward from where she was stationed indicating just how furious she was. She looked wild, a fury in her lich-drenched eyes as she snapped her gaze from first Zalra then to Kross, coming to stand beside the steward as she felt her ire rise.

“What is this I hear about Lazarius?” she hissed, knowing well what it was that Guntram had allowed her to see and hear. The raven let out another caw, a rich, piercing noise before gliding down to settle along his mistress' shoulder.

[  L.K  ]   “Hunters tracked him to Kun-Lai Summit, working under the Magister named Dawnseeker. They’ve grabbed him, we need to get back there.”

Kross turned as Vari had arrived, he was feeling far more relieved at this point. The old gilnean only had one desire at this point, and that was to break through that door at once.

[  P.K  ]   A foreboding rumbling was making its way through the halls now, a slight shaking of the floors and the sound of plate on stone. It would be clear that the army was moving through the lower halls.

[  V.D  ]   Twisting atop her high heels the Confessor would whip forth her wand, bursts of bright blue-white light hurtling through the halls of the Bastille at a hasty speed -- in the distance one could see the lights separating, forming into her conjured animal of emergency and culling, beasts formed to herd and bring the students of the magically inclined Nine from their deep studies.

In the next instant had the ever silent Confessor whipped her wand around over head in a slight arch, a burst of dark magics settling over her being and consuming her for a mere moment. As she'd swiftly return to view, the shadows dispersing into a cloud of fading smoke to reveal Tea in her battle garb.

Cloth robes dressed in bits of metal plate to protect her torso and legs but remaining not so constricting. Her wrists were bandaged tightly with bracers, her hands decorated with metal claws attached to the tips.of her fingers. Her once free flowing blonde hair was now tugged up into a tight hair bun, around her neck hung the unused cloth hood. The dark purple and black of her garb contrasted drastically against her paling skin.

True she wasn't speaking. But she was fully present, and as students would begin to trickle in behind her dressed in garb similar to their last great war... She was prepared.

[  Z.A  ]   Zalra would notice more joining them, and spotted the more familiar face of Verzatea Dustkflame; The Confessor. The woman’s nod in brief greeting did not go unnoticed, however Zalra was shoved by Kross and turned her attention away. An appropriate reaction, to be fair. There were more pressing matters than the ‘Sin’dorei’ following frivolous formalities. As everyone prepared for battle, she too adjusted the grip of her strange, void-addled spear, and reached for the handle of the door with her gauntlet hand.

She ripped it open quickly to reveal not the Bastille’s hall closet, but a brief glance into the interior of the Kun Lai Summit mountainous cabin. Zalra would be the first through the portal on command.

[  P.K  ]   The rumbling was louder and the floor shook as The Nine’s most elite began to filter in behind their mistress into a very thick and odd formation in the small space. They were all clad in head to toe armor that was dark in color with violets and vibrant green accents. Helmets were drawn. Weapons of all variations were held. They waited.

[  L.K  ]   Stepping back through the portal beside the Spear wielding huntress would be the other who worked as she did. Marseille; the Shaldorei would be holding his knives and stepping in with her.

“We go. . .Zalra lead on, Confessor, your students to protect and seal the barrier.  Harbinger hold the line. . .” Kross would rush in, and the scene they would find was mostly innocuous.

No sign of a struggle, no sign of blood or destroyed parts of the building. It seemed all was calm.  Boot prints coming in from the front door of the small three room cabin we’re clear.

“Six men were here.”. Marseille said as he knelt down beside one set of tracks.  The cabin was surrounded on all sides by pane glass windows, it opened the room up. Outside the others could see they were somewhere on the mountain. The fire and candles had been put out, an empty bottle of wine was spilled, a box looking to contain a gift was scattered. The look of a casual evening gone wrong. 

“Marseille can you detect tracks.. where is he?”. Kross pushed his way into the room and began to look about. 

“He was lofted. The weight and imprint of these tracks in the snow match one set of boots coming in, yet more weigh pushing down.  He did not leave on his own.”. The Shaldorei stated while observing prints outside the door crushed into the fresh powder.

The tiny cabin was no where big enough to hold all the students and soldiers, it could possibly contain twenty people comfortably. They’d have to hold back.  Kross would begin to look over the room before pushing his way back into the doorway to the Bastille. “I will attempt to contact him with the pit...”

Marseille on the other hand continued out into the snow. He would see if he could track them further.  If there was a way to detect where they had gone, he would find it.  But at that moment, when he had walked out the door, there was a sound upstairs. It appeared someone was left and still mulling about.

[  V.D  ]   With a careful tugging motion the Confessor would pull her hood up over her head, the hood fitting snugly around her ears and falling low into her darkened eyes whilst her boots another change to her attire from Verzatea to Confessor - crunching gently against the snow as she watched the Shade work. The noise was heightened slightly as the mages and other magically inclined spiritualists of the Nine fell in kine behind the lanky woman back inside the main room, four of them to be exact. As she drew closer to the meandering figure of Zalra, the woman lofted her free hand - though her wand hand was at the ready to defend - thus to taste the atmosphere. Feeling for any sort of magic in the air lingering in hopes to entrap her fellow Nine, metal claws slicing the air as she tapped into her third eye.

[  Z.A  ]   As soon as Zalra crossed the threshold, she made way for the handful of others participating in Lazarius’ rescue. However, she did hesitate briefly in her movements. The empty room and lack of bounty hunters made her stomach twist, but, deep down it was unsurprising. Dawnseeker’s men had their target; why would they wait around for a coat?

She listened carefully to Marseille’s investigative results and only frowned further, he was right. They couldn’t have gotten too far, though? Unless portals were involved. However, Zalra knew that someone would be able to track any arcane residue left behind, right? Then again, she didn’t know the extent of the group’s abilities.

She just stood by for orders to follow. Her intentions were to follow into the snow to help scout, however, something caught her attention. The huntress paused a couple feet from the door when she heard a strange sound above her.

“Someone is still here.” She stated flatly, eyes already to the ceiling. Parting from the group, Zalra cautiously headed up the nearby stairs; her spear poised defensively.

[  K.A  ]   Urgency. The air filled with it. Without warning Koltun launched himself skyward, fel tattoos flaring brightly to life as he soared down the hallway, up over the railing and spun down into the entrance hall, landing beside Vari. Already Fel energies twisted around his scaled form, spectral sight sweeping the room. He paused a moment at Zalra, tilting his head to listen.

Koltun didnt wait, stepping through the door of the Bastille to follow after Zalra and the others, already allowing fel to fill within his core, fueling his regular mutations into a further shift.

The sound of snapping bones and twisting muscle heralded his entrance into the area, his once short, 5'10 stature expanding until he nearly crested eight feet . Large, curving horns had grown, dark flesh now blackened, covered in building scales that coated his form in an approximation of armor, booted feet now replaced with talented feet.

A beast he was before, but it was no beast that ducked through the doorway after Marseille, but the full fledged shape of a demon. Terrifying felfire eyes flared to life as he set his gaze up the stairs, wings cracking with a sudden flex that stretched them out to cover the doorway. Both glaives rested comfortably within the demons clawed hands as he quietly let Zalra speak, a wave of darkness, fear inducing, flooding from his very form.

[  L.K  ]   Inside the cabin, Verzatea and Zalra stood at the base of the small staircase which led up to a loft where the bedroom would no doubt be. The cabin was not large by any standard, it was however very fancy and rather luxurious in all other areas. Lazarius did love this place, it was a shame that another of his precious homes was now lost.

Marseille had moved outside into the heavy snow and wind, the poor man was barely dressed in anything but leathers and a few scraps of cloth. He was busy tracking where the group went off to.

Koltun too had rushed out the door but upon hearing the sounds and the women inside, would force himself back toward the front door.

Kross returned into the Bastille with hopes that he could in fact detect where Lazarius was being taken with the Pit of Lothia. It was a long shot but it may have been worth trying.

Back in the cabin, Upstairs there came another noise. But the sound of the door opening was quite the tell that it was in fact a person. Maybe even one of those grummles but a person was up there none the less.

“Come all this way, an’ not a god damn thin’ tah steal.” a voice which was like sand paper on the ear came rushing down the stairs. It would be like a mixture of dwarvish common and southern pirate. It was raspy, coarse and throaty, obviously male.

Heavy plated boots began to march down the hallway leading to the landing before the stairs. Whoever this was had spurs, or the chains of his armor were rattling as he walked.

“What ah fuckin’ waste o’ time... collect some old cheap bastard...can’t even pillage or kill... waste o’ meh time.” after his next exchange which sounded like he was talking to himself there would be a faint sound of air valves being released and gas being expelled from a servo motor.

The sound of gears and cog wheels turning, a clearly mechanical sound. Though he was still heading toward the top of the stairs. The two below, Verza and Zalra clearly knew he was coming before he would know they were down below.

[  V.D  ]   A slow glance was offered to Zalra, the Confessor's wand tip aloft and pointed into the direction of the concerning new voice, her shoulders tensing and head bowing and tilting in a manner kin to that of a snake. Alas, she didnt start tasting the air with her tongue. That would be weird.  Instead she turned to her charges nearby, and waved her fingers in the air, two to be exact in a circular motion followed by a tightly balled fist. 

They knew exactly what was being said and in silence, the four of them rushed to the doorway of the Bastille and began channeling a barrier to keep the others in, and the danger out.  More so, it was to prevent harm from anyone else entering.  The Bastille would deal with intruders on its own if someone did breech the gateway.

She rolled her weight onto the tips of her boots and began her slow ascending, creeping along the steps whilst aiming to follow the voice, her curiosity peaked.

“Perhaps he has answers regarding our Lord'“ she'd hiss so softly beneath her breath.

[  L.K  ]   Step by step, inch by inch. It would seem Zalra was slowly trying to ascend the stairwell, while in the same series of events another person was casually making there way down the hall toward them. It would be safe to say that the two women and several other students were safely about mid-way up the stairs. The climb was slow and cautious and it would be worth their wait to do so in the most calm and careful manner possible.

And at that same very moment it would seem that the front door of the little cottage would burst to light and come swinging open into the room sending a rush of cold air to go fluttering through the lower levels and right up the stairs. Marseille, who had been out in the cold tracking, had rushed into the room with his breath nearly taken away. His calm and almost tranquil demeanor would be broken when he shouted to the two women who were in his sight.

"There is one still here!" It seemed they knew, and the Shal'dorei was already poised with two knives split between his index and ring finger and thumb and index finger on both hands; he was prepared to hurl them at someone.

It would be this action that  would cause the students and two higher acting officers to turn and study the actions of the slender man, they would have never noticed the man who had appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Well, well. . .what'dah'we 'ave 'ere." The male voice that had just spoken to them was that of the intruder who was now looking down at the group.

Standing before them at the top of the landing, was a mountain of a Sin'dorei man. He was quite tall and his features were covered from head to toe in a thick and glorious set of obsidian armor. Save of course for the mechanical hand that was still operating and buzzing away.

His face was heavily scarred, covering most of his lower mouth and lips with slash marks and blade attacks. His ears were halved. The left missing most of the top part where the tip would have been and the right missing most of the lobe and bottom. His eye, yes one, was a fel fire green but began to bleed into that strange yellow hue that so many who were reunited with the sunwell had. The other, well, the other was covered by a thick black leather eye patch.

He hissed and snarled as the monstrous man held a halberd that even rivaled the one Zalra had, it was very menacing and dripping with blood already. And to top it all off, that red foxtail behind his head was bobbing back and forth when he spoke.

"Seems we'ave some intruders. . ."

TBC... “In Depths Below: Lament, Part 2″

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