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Been a long time since I posted something of substance! This is a long portion of my newest book Eldritch Thorn. It has a while yet before it goes on sale, but I had to share the first chapter. This is a much more ambitious endeavor than anything I have done before. I am hoping for more depth with my characters to flavor the erotica and get readers more invested. Let me know what you think so far.

I am working on a website that will feature all story samples and art galleries. Remember, book purchases give me the funds I need to commision art for these stories. If you are interested, check them out on amazon!

https://www.amazon.com/Caruso-Oath-Damned-Alecta-A...=mp_s_a_1_1?keywords=oath+of+the+damned&qid=1572924262&sr=8-1

https://www.amazon.com/Vile-Atonement-Caruso-alect...=mp_s_a_1_1?keywords=vile+atonement&qid=1572924303&sr=8-1

https://www.amazon.com/Viscera-Alecta-Andromeda-eb...=mp_s_a_1_1?keywords=viscera+alecta&qid=1572924374&sr=8-1

Inheritance

For those who would profess virtue

With their lips, but commit atrocities

With their hands, I reserve my greatest Wrath. And worse still, I condemn those who Profess fealty to the justice of Stygos whilst Subverting it in their deeds.

Hell would be a sanctuary for them. The mortal world cannot fathom The fate I have crafted for their Wretched souls.

The high planes of Innisgale offered no quarter or relief to comfort Gofannon's weary frame. For six hours they rode slow on horseback, trudging through the coarse dirt of the cold valley and up the hard, stone steps of the Ancient's Path. The sun would set soon and the occasional cry of hawks or the craven whine of wild dogs would fade to the silence of a winter dark. Such was the season of his name day, his wretched gloomy name day. A second son of a second son, though at least the prestigious members of house Cledwyn never put much stock into the common Geth superstitions. Still, the rise of Arlis to the imperial throne and the unification of Lepus and Roden territories under his rule had done great things for the reputation of second sons, and his own inclusion to the court of the Archon as Vizier had nearly eliminated the heated stares shot in his direction at royal galas.

Still, his name day always brought a feeling of dread, a hopeless sackcloth draped across his spiritual eyes. Maybe its origin rested within the dark purpose of their annual travel, though his gut cried out for the assured hedonism lurking within these accursed hills. For thirty long years he had followed Tegau on this path on both their respective name days, when Cledwyn tradition demanded a visit to the old lodge hidden in the high rocks. There the sons of Alwyn Cled-wyn would hunt the gold stag and not return until they had tasted it's flesh. The nights would fill with quiet meditation and reading by the hearth as each reflected on the years travails.

In truth no son of Cled-wyn had killed a stag in at least two-hundred years, and the nights flowed with something thicker than blood. Gofannon shuddered with anticipation, and an ache in his groin sharpened before dulling to a pleasant warmth. He hated himself, but could taste flesh upon his tongue and he had no choice but to savor it.

Tegau had to feel the same, yet he showed no outward sign of it. His older brother rode with a straight back and nose level to the road ahead. Gofannon enjoyed his brother's silence for the first day of their journey, but he knew Tegau couldn't keep his mouth shut much longer. A bitter wind stirred the trees. The grey of the traveller's fur bristled with its caress. The scene included them unawares, oblivious to their future reverie and descent.

"We stand upon a grand precipice brother. Just think of what the future may bring."

Gofannon rolled his eyes. This speech again: he thought, taking a deep breath and grinding his teeth.

"I told you to stop reading Adelaide. He fills your head with all manner of tiresome, pedantic, nonsense." Gofannon dug within his saddlebag, fumbling for tobac or at least some dried meat.

Tegau smiled. Gofannon knew this even as Tegau never turned to face him. The horses continued their pace through ups and downs of the wilderness. "I know you can't believe that Gofannon. Think of how much we owe to Arlis, how much we owe to his governance. And it was Arlis that made Adelaide's dream a reality. He was the messiah the Felidae king foretold."

Gofannon ripped into an especially chewy stick of rubbery meat. The salt's kiss restored a portion of his waning strength. He felt ready for debate. "Adelaide dreamed of a world free of slavers and the filth that employed them. I would very much like to see proof that Artex is free of such a pestilence."

Tegau was unimpressed. "Arlis has started a war he may not finish himself, but all he needed to do was START it. We are one people now. The ghosts of our past imprisoned the Sheoul of Artex, but as unified subjects of Fenra, we need not watch our brothers and sisters travel that dark path..."

Gofannon sneered and tossed an especially gristly bit of meat over his shoulder. "You are such a fucking hypocrite Tegau. If you weren't so much more of a brute than I, I would climb off this horse and strike you upon the jaw myself."

Tegau's smile would fade a bit at that. He would likely feel the first weights of guilt settling upon his shoulders. That would be the first hints of the greater pleasure that would soon follow. They both felt it's creeping presence. The anticipation of tomorrow night's festivities has electrified the air around them. Tegau broke the silence once again. "What do you think Arlis would do if he found out?"

Gofannon winced. The thought had kept him awake many nights throughout the years. When Arlis asked him to serve in the court of Archon Mejis, he felt the warmth of the dragon's wings and the fear of the fire brewing in its belly. "He would make us disappear. Our names blotted from history, our land broken up and spread to newer, more useful nobility. Maybe he would come up with some heroic story of how we had sacrificed ourselves for the sons and daughters not of Gethfell, not of Canis, but of Fenra itself. No one lies as well as Arlis, even if it's for the greater benefit." Gofannon's usual pithy and bitter words collapsed into something resembling sincerity.

"No Gofannon. I can say with near certainty you are wrong about that." Tegau stopped, turning his horse to face his younger brother. They met eyes on the abandoned ancient's path near the crest of a hill. A whippoorwill called into the fading light, and Gofannon remembered the old legends of the birds capturing the souls of the new dead and spiriting them away to the halls of Stygos for judgement. Tegau's flare for the dramatic rarely affected Gofannon, but something about this night lent power to his older brother's theatrics.

"He would make a spectacle of us. Parade us around naked and bound like the slaves we have raped on our annual retreat. His black masks would tie us to stakes and spill open our bellies with burning blades. He would draw out our intestines and make us watch as each inch of our guts string out like garlands. They would empty the shit from our bowels and force us to eat it in sight of the nobles we have so desperately tried to woo."

Gofannon struggled to hide his discomfort. Yet he still squirmed beneath the piercing blue eyes of his brother's terrible visage. "And then brother? Then they would leave us, broken and begging for death in the open square of Gethfell. Only the birds would show us mercy as they stripped the flesh from our bones and pecked the eyes from our sockets. The very end would be you and me struggling to die as even the crowds feasting upon our humiliation would disperse not from disgust or mercy, but sheer boredom at the length of our suffering."

Gofannon had quite enough. His brother's humors could easily become unbalanced when stress turned his screws. But this...it reeked of insanity. "Stygos be damned you miserable cur. Would Arlis birth his own humiliation? Would he thus wound his own face for the sheer satisfaction of our own agony? Our positions merit secrecy for our demise, and while our fate could be as ghastly as you so lovingly describe, I doubt it would be as public as you seem to fantasize. It would seem the hysteria feasts upon you again and I think wetting your cock may serve to balance your obviously sickened mind."

Gofannon brushed past Tegau, his stallion gently nosing aside the larger steed of his older brother. He would take the lead for a while so as not to stare at the back of Tegau's head. He wanted to see the horizon as they crested the hill and get a glimpse of the day as it fought against the inevitable dark.

"There is a lot about Arlis you don't know. Don't underestimate his capacity for self destruction, or his own hidden sadism." Tegau's voice hung low in the air behind Gofannon, a whipporwill of a more sinister sort calling out to the only damned souls on this road.

***

Evening fell like a drunken bitch upon a muddy floor. The stars winked in and out of sight as the hum of crickets echoed across the hills. The only game here in the rocks was the small, Roden like marmot that made their burrows in the rare sandy patches between the boulders, and tradition said only light supplies could be taken on the journey. So marmot it was for supper. Gofannon had always found the vermin's resemblance to the Roden race intriguing. Their spindly tails and pointed faces mirrored the other, and some scholars theorized some connection or perhaps even origin for the Roden race could be found from the lowly marmot.

It was considered horrifically taboo these days to mention such theories. Though Gofannon had curated a small library on the subject.

Their taste was gamey, tougher than the meat gofannon had packed for the ride. But they satisfied well enough with six for both him and Tegau. The meat reminded him of a Roden girl they had taken around the time of Arlis' grand coronation. Both the brothers knew what laws Arlis aimed to enact as a part of his "Unification" vision. The Roden and Lepus were to be treated equal to high wolves under the law, and slavers had already been driven from most of Fenra at that point. Tegau's twenty fifth name day was very likely the last time they would have a chance to taste a Roden, at least not with crippling paranoia following them thereafter. Their contact with Chirin warned a Roden may not be possible. They would need to settle for potential Sciuridae, or even a low born wolf.

They paid a fortune for only a small chance at devouring a true Roden. They didn't even care whether she was virginal. Roden was soon to become a rare delicacy, and both the noble brothers salivated for one last chance to gorge themselves upon it. He remembered the approach to the lodge, the sun finally slipping beneath the horizon where they met a haggard Pagith outside the gate. The girl lay slumped over the back of a small mule with her feet and hands bound tight enough to bleed her wrists and ankles.

She was Roden. Tegau wasted no time paying the twisted, hoggish Pagith and sending him on his own accursed way. With a deep laugh, he hoisted the thin girl onto his shoulders. She had been unconscious, likely drugged to make her transport to Clipiau, the isolated lodge at Innisgale's highest ridge, at least manageable. There were a myriad of paths through the lower valleys where a ne'er do well could pass far from the prying eyes of gossiping villagers to deliver such blasphemous cargo.

Gofannon preferred a screamer, or even better, a girl who weeps and cries as the nights drag on. Tegau preferred to lull them, even romance them with promises of a better life should they acquiesce to his desires. Usually, he offered to marry them should they prove themselves capable of pleasing him the ways he craved. He would make them disrobe of their own volition. His words dripped between his lips like wild honey from a wounded hive. Tegau embraced them, bent them, made something akin to love with them. He would go on like this for a few days, sweetening his promises, all the while drawing them closer and closer to doom.

There was always a point when Tegau would tire of his toy. His interest would wain and the charm of his voice would dip to a gruff impatience. This was Gofannon's signal. Tegau had no stomach for the actual kill, so once Gofannon joined, the sex would turn more and more brutal. At first he and Gofannon would lockstep, taking her two at a time. They would spit-roast her. Take turns so as to always be forcing themselves upon her without rest. The poor Roden girl had been fucked for three days straight if he remembered correctly. They pushed her to the brink of sanity.

Tegau would usually retire when Gofannon brought out the blades. He had no stomach for the more brutal acts that lit Gofannon's fire. He carved that poor wretch like a slab of meat fresh off the ass of an Auroch. Her crotch, both gates to her innermost being scarred and wet with use, had been the canvas of a deep, ancient madness. Gofannon would twist and cut, slice and prod until the screams faded. He didn't push her to death though, just to the point where her throat could no longer make sound. When her suffering was silent and she lacked the strength to raise her tail, the only appendage he had left lovingly unrestrained. At the height of her suffering, it had thrashed with an unnatural rage. It looked like some ghastly snake with a severed head lashing at a world it could no longer see.

Gofannon insisted that Tegau be present when the girl's took their last breaths. It felt disrespectful to abandon his lovely bride at her final moments. Though Tegau protested, Gofannon knew there was a grim, nauseating high at the fading of such helpless souls, and Tegau never turned away once the act began. Gofannon made no real show of it. He cut the throat with a simple dagger. The same one their father had likely used years before the right had passed to them. She would hardly even notice. They drove her to an isolated mental chamber where the world could no longer interfere or torture the poor wretch. The moist rasp would almost resemble a sigh as the vitality dripped from her wasted frame.

The Roden girl died the same way so many others before her died: alone, quiet, the fight all but extinguished from her bound limbs. There was literally nothing to separate her from any of the others they had butchered in this hellish place over the years. Gofannon could not even recall her face.

But he did remember her taste. The way she seared above the fire and the smoke from her innards rising to obscure the God-damned stars. That he would never forget.

Gofannon jumped at the sound of another whippoorwill. The other worldly calls began to grate upon his nerves. He pulled a small pouch from his pack and struggled to roll some tobac. Drystan sold him some supposedly prime crop from the personal holdings of a Lepus noble, apparently one of Dystan's far flung kin from some obscure survivor of Grak's siege upon Leifmarsh. It was said to be laced with some exotic spice from the mainland. Drystan called it Melange and warned Gofannon he may see things that aren't there. Some Felidae fool smoked a stack and ended up pulling his own eyes out of his head.

Drystan had a flair for the dramatic just like Tegau. But Gofannon figured self mutilation would be a fitting end for him anyway. He flicked a piece of flint against a steel file and caught a light. As he drew the hot pollution into his lungs, a feeling of warmth spread through his weary

limbs. He coughed as a puff escaped his nostrils. His fur would smell like soot for days, but damn if this wasn't as good as Drystan claimed. He needed to thank his friend for it later. For a moment, he wondered how Drystan would react if he ever found out how many frail, lepus women died with Gofannon's cock inside them. He stopped counting long ago.

He probably wouldn't sell him tobac anymore. He would probably try to put a sword in his belly. Gofannon wouldn't blame him.

Tegau had been staring into the sky. He picked at his claws with a knife, sharpening their edges and pairing them down. Normally, Tegau would be lost in a book or writing his terrible, overly lyrical poetry when blessed with such solitude. Now, he stared with glassy eyes into the dark above them. A rivulet of blood dripped from his fingers where he had accidentally cut into the flesh. Something was clearly troubling his older brother.

The tobac most certainly came with some dizzying mental impairments, as Gofannon sat up from the rock he had propped up against and initiated conversation with the brooding Tegau. One of the horses whinnied from the Slash Pine tree it was tied to. He probably heard Marmots scuttling about the rocks.

"Have you talked to Mandy yet?" Gofannon said, smoke forming a toxic halo around his face.

"No. I don't think I will after all." Tegau bit his lip and cut further into his fingers.

"Are you trying to amputate a digit?" Gofannon chuckled.

Tegau sighed and brought his hands to his mouth. Gofannon hounded and teased his

older brother. No one could be more cruel to Tegau than he, but his father spoke truth when he cornered him in the south hall of Torin long ago and said "you love your brother." The stern look across his face mixed with a slight nag of pleading. "He loves you. He would die for you." Gofannon would die for Tegau. Though the sentiment had never crossed his mind before then.

"So many older brothers torment the second son, but for you two, you, a RUNT mind you, hound and drag his mind through the mud. I will never understand what hold you have over him, scrawny, short, and twisted as you are."

Dad always made sure to point out his lack of stature and looks. Where Tegau had the height, Gofannon had the will. Tegau would slump his head upon his chest as he walked the halls of their ancestral home of Torin, draped in the melancholy so characteristic of Cledwyn's sons. The younger girls would pine after his sullenness, longing to be the object of his desires and the source of the light that would lift his soul. He was handsome, forlorn, and Gofannon always knew at least partially putting on a show for shallow praise. Tegau had a seductive sadness to his visage that always granted him sympathy from those around him.

Gofannon was different. He inherited height from his mother and the face of their grandfather Ulbrecht, who only sired an heir through careful economic manipulation and an arranged marriage to a simple, homely girl from the third branch of house Elmin. This, along with the curse of the second son, insured Gofannon struggled to earn every ounce of attention he received. He learned to be boisterous, even crude or downright mean spirited to seize his share of the world. The best way to snatch away the prestige of Tegau's assumed superiority, was to run him down in front of those he sought to impress.

But on quiet nights like this, far from the eyes of aristocratic fops or imperial diplomats, Tegau was no competitor for the world's affection. He was his brother. The same one father so desperately pleaded Gofannon treat with some degree of empathy. Empathy was something Gofannon usually had in short supply. But this Tobac, this lovely tobac. It had been a long time since Gofannon had felt so little apprehension at his brother's presence.

"This is absolutely amazing grass Tegau. You really should try a bit."

"I don't smoke anymore. Mandy doesn't want it around the children." Tegau bent forward and gathered up his pack.

"That bitch orders you around like a slave." Gofannon said, blowing a smoke ring between his teeth. "Why did you decide not to tell her? You think she will do something stupid like leave and take the kids? She certainly wouldn't get far."

Tegau pulled a long instrument from one of his larger packs. He cradled its body, stroked the long neck where six strings cascaded like waterfalls down a step of notches and ridges. He twanged the larger strings and worked his way up to the smaller, twisting knobs as he plucked.

"It's not that. She would never leave. I honestly think she already knows." Tegau had that look again. The hurt in his eyes that hinted at tears lurking between a few secret words. He focused his attention on the Mandolin for a moment. The tuning of the instrument eluded him, and he had no fork for reference.

"Then what's the problem pup?" Gofannon had no desire to insult his brother, but old habits are hard to break. He feared his brother would whine like he did when they were kids.

Tegau's face hardened as the middle string hit its note square. Even without knowledge of playing the instrument, Gofannon knew he had found the pitch. "A house attendant went missing recently. I had the grounds of Rhys searched for fear that she had somehow become injured in some secluded spot on the grounds. There was nothing. A week passed and we had no sign of her."

Tegau moved to the next string. A small bead of blood kissed the wire, and Gofannon tried not to wince at the sight. "Then she shows up barely beginning to decompose in an irrigation ditch just outside the wine cellar. Mandy suggested she had drank herself into a stupor and fell into the trench and drowned."

Gofannon wasn't following. "Sounds reasonable. Commoners get themselves into all sorts of stupid mischief."

Tegau met his gaze. It wasn't sadness in his eyes now. It was something akin to fear mixed with indignation. "If she had been in that wine cellar we would have found her. And she had not been dead that long. How had she hidden from us in a drunken fit for a week?"

Gofannon began to connect the dots. But the implication still eluded him. "Was she whole? Or did she actually drown?"

Tegau frowned. "I let our Surgeon look at the body but made him swear to keep his observations a secret. She was cut to bits from her sin to her navel. He wanted to alert the manor guards, but I told him I didn't want a panic. I said I would handle the problem myself."

Now the puzzle assembled within Gofannon's mind. "Stygos' blade...you think it was Mandrea?"

Tegau lowered his gaze to the ground and closed his eyes. A tune began to form from his hands. Gofannon recognized the song as Gershwyn's Lament. "She shut herself up in her room a few days before claiming a fever. She forbid anyone to enter that wing of Rhys for fear that we would catch some horrible consumption. It's pretty obvious what really feasted upon whose flesh I think." The song rose and fell. Tegau never sang the melancholy lyrics. For that Gofannon was thankful.

He felt his pants tighten around the loins. A new breed of impurity danced into the rotten reaches of Gofannon's mind. "She could join us for these little, sessions. If she enjoys a girl the way we do. We could all indulge in less...risky...ways."

Tegau's eyes narrowed. A look of hate ignited upon his visage. The song stopped cold upon the Gethian Mandolin. The whipporwill commenced its song once again as a cold wind stirred the fire to new brightness. "I would not see her in that way. And I think she would be

mortified that we would suspect her of such. Her attitude toward the thirst is not so accepting as ours, and her shame is merited, if not the correct way to approach the demonic desires we harbor. I will tend to her and keep her the way I vowed the day we wed. I regret knowing what she struggles with and would have happily remained ignorant of it."

Tegau rose and nudged the sword sheathed at his side. Tegau rarely stood at full height unless he was addressing a crowd. He always seemed more vulnerable one on one, especially with Gofannon's bullying. Now, Gofannon could see his older brother finding a new, dreadful courage stirring within. "Long have you pined for my Mandrea brother. As well you should, as her beauty disarms even as it invigorates the blood. But upon your death and your severed limbs, I will tolerate no more talk of her 'joining' us for these rites."

Gofannon had only seen Tegau like this twice before. And both times the stance and tone had earned him a new degree of respect. But Gofannon would not allow his brutish brother the ego stroke packaged with fear. He would never fear Tegau, even with a blade at his throat. "Fine, fine brother. But please look upon this from the perspective of one less favored with grace and handsome visage. Artex is a hellish place to live for a Geth. I can pay for the attention of a woman, but no amount of Denarl would ever convince a whore to be seen with me, let alone conceive a child. My women are all scarred from the removal of their wombs, and even Lepus and Felidae won't sully their ovaries with my seed though they cannot conceive from Geth."

Gofannon puffed long upon his grass.. "I would never touch your wife, and you know she would never touch me. Indulge my fantasy of bearing witness to her disrobed and bloodied. Take it as a compliment, and take comfort in knowing I shall never see it, much less smell the honey from her cunt."

Tegau drew his sword. His grip upon the hilt tightened as he held it straight in his arm. Gofannon watched as his brother ground his teeth. "Fiend," Tegau said, as his wrists began to tremble.

"Indeed." Gofannon began to roll another fag. A small piece of his soul hoped Tegau would skewer him like the flank of the Roden girl they had shared so many years ago. "Sit down you lunatic. I am no threat to you and love Mandrea as one of our sisters. Blessings upon you both and we will consider the matter over and done with. Now smoke this and maybe you will stop acting like a fucking Pagith."

Gofannon had made his gambit. He lit the humble roll of tobac with his own. Without standing, he stretched out his arm to offer the olive branch. A few ashes flaked off in a sudden gust of wind, smoldering on the silk sleeve of his diplomat coat. It was a gift from Arlis: priceless silk from a famous Felidae tailor that had fit Caruso for his state and funeral garments. Gofannon dared not to show emotion at the coat's maiming. As much as he tried to deny his fear, Tegau's current state struck him as the closest his brother had ever stepped to actual violence. There was plenty of prime locations to stow a body out here on the ancients' path and a plethora of ways to explain his disappearance.

Tegau took three deep breaths and let out a low growl from the pit of his belly. He raised the sword and with a slow but methodical twist, inserted the blade back into its simple leather scabbard. The sword had once belonged to Fesric before the short, bloody civil war that nearly saw Gethfell march upon Artex under a Rose banner. Archon Mejis himself bestowed the blade after Tegau fought in the battle of Aeronwy and slew Fesric's last stubborn heir.

"God damn you Gofannon." Tegau said taking the fag and drawing a long breath through its flames.

"He already has. But at least we can suffer an eternity together in his halls of ash."

Tegau sat. His bulk and heroic frame thudding to the ground in a complete release of tension. The smoke tasted sweet, and Gofannon thought back to their days sitting on the back foyer of Rhys when dad was away (probably on his own "hunting trips"). Dad hated the strong odor of the Tobac, and would crack his knuckles whenever he saw fellow Geth smoking it. He said the Lepus were an entire species of women, frail and prone to fits of emotion. Their spices and herbs would weaken the legs and potentially give one a hunger for the sword of flesh.

They had always been so careful to hide it, retreating to the outdoors so as not to leave the rooms reeking. Now even as men, they still retreated to seclusion to partake of such a simple pleasure. The ease of the green seeped into Tegau's flesh as he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs to capacity and holding the smoke inside. Gofannon laughed at the idea that Tegau would ever quit. Even a month away from the Tobac would leave a smoker in a coughing fit upon return. Tegau was a veteran of deceiving his beloved Mandrea.

Gofannon was the first to speak as the two began to blow rings from between their sharp teeth. "Remember that Sciuridae girl a few years back?"

Tegau chuckled as a thick cloud puffed from his lips. "Stygos' blood, the one with the puffed cheeks and buck teeth?"

Gofannon had always loved Tegau's laughter. It made him feel like an adolescent again. He could almost hear their mom calling from the kitchen of Rhys to supper. "That bitch was so fucking ridiculous. I felt like I was screwing a carnival sideshow or something."

Tegau's smile faded slightly, but his eyes maintained a cheer as they began to redden with the scent of the Tobac. "I was never one for the brutality Gofannon. But when you tied her to the rack and began to stretch her..."

Gofannon breathed deep once again with the joy of the memory. "And then broke her ribs with that club? Each crank of the wheel set those ribs floating more and more on their own within her scrawny little chest. Didn't even have tits to bite into. But by God, those screams."

Tegau scooted up beside Gofannon and laid his head upon the same rock. Together they stared into the stars. "I still think about her sometimes when I can't sleep. The way she writhed as the ropes got tighter and tighter. The tears streaming down her chest and leaving dark streaks in her fur."

Gofannon felt the familiar tension building below his belt. This wasn't something he typically talked about with his brother. But the death of Tegau's fit was enough for him to embrace it. "I got off when she started to gag. She had been without food like what...a week at that point? God there is no worse feeling that needing to vomit and having nothing to cough up. I started to slow it down after that. I wanted her to keep feeling that. I wanted it to last as long as I could make it last." A star shot across the sky, bright and terrible in its brief fire, then blinked out with nary a sound.

Tegau sighed. "I can't remember how she died. I think I had my dick in her after she took her last breath, but I just can't remember." They all began to run together at some point. Gofannon only replayed a select few favorites within his mind when the nights were long and his bed was cold.

"Can you not sleep because of the memories?" There was good in Tegau. Gofannon liked to fish for it, hoping some treasure may bob to the surface in a soul otherwise used to feigned shows of compassion in the waking world. Gofannon had begun to fear his real self hid in the halls of Clipiau, the twilight world of sadistic dark and hymns to the orgasmic suffering of the weak.

Tegau paused deep in thought. He scratched his nose and pulled yet more smoke into his lungs. "No. I can't sleep because of many other fears that hide in the corners of my rotted brain. Her screams and the twisting of her bloodied center beneath your blade...the gagging and gasping for air even as she surely begged whatever Gods the Scuiridae worship for death. Those ease me into sleep and calm my nerves. Even the same as this weed blunts my rage."

Gofannon felt the clamps of damnation around his throat. "We are fucked up Tegau."

Tegau hung his head between his shoulders. Silence settled on the rocks around them. Finally the elder Cledwyn looked up at the path still ahead to the place of their carnal celebration. "Why the fuck did dad have a fucking rack in the equivalent of a hunting lodge? You would think he would have at least TRIED to hide what he was doing."

The brothers laughed before drifting off, wrapped in a swaddle of greying smoke.

***

The next morning brought sun in gnarled fingers through the bone shadows of the pines. Though the air was cold, a fine dew had settled upon the ground. The brothers regretted their neglect in pitching a tent as they stirred. Their soggy clothes only annoyed. The after effects of the tobac wracked their hedon brains and both skipped breakfast, opting to gather what little supplies they had scattered and get back on the road. The steepest climbs were just ahead, but they would arrive at Clipiau before dark.

Gofannon thought it would be best to lock up their "toy" for a day or so and let her starve a bit. That would give them a chance to rest, hunt for game (though no Stag for fuck's sake) and recoup their strength. It would give whatever poor bitch that waited for them a chance to void her bowels as well. One of the first lessons they learned of this sacred rite was to give the girls a chance to empty out before she would be used. Tegau was still not fond of taking a girl by the filth, not after that first incident. Gofannon smiled as he thought of the look of horror on Tegau's face when his entire lower half was matted with the shit of an especially sassy Red Mane. The smell had been terrible as well. That was the only time Gofannon could remember Tegau beating a girl. She barely survived his wrath and lost an eye in the process. Even with all his virtuous bravado, Tegau was just as capable of brutality as he.

The ill will that bubbled up between them the day before had evaporated. Though both were miserable from moisture and the Tobac, the brothers shared a silence pregnant with calm. Anticipation filled the air and the travel took on an air of urgency. The last hours were the most boring and tedious as more plants and grass gave way to the scattered rocks of the barren ancients path. Up and up they climbed as the air thinned and a thin layer of clouds bled over the sun. Gofannon liked it cold. He liked to watch the girls shiver in their nakedness when the restraints denied them the right to cover themselves. He imagined their hair standing on end and the nipples hardening as breath expired in steam from the mouths in terrified pants.

It was so close now.

The visage of Clipiau always shocked him when they turned past the large boulders near the mountain's crest. It stood hewn partially into the rock itself, the summit towering above. Stone columns and framed two floors, and the windows sat dark upon its face. The building was old. No one knew exactly how many generations of Cled-wyn had walked its halls. Early in the clan's history there had been a few minor conflicts with House Elmin and House Hefin where Clipiau had served as the temporary seat for Cledwyn during sieges of Innisgale. After the rise of House Elmin and their pact with the Sheoul, Clipiau had been annexed by Archon Orsha to serve as a defense outpost from potential marauders of Lepus and Roden, who Geth practitioners feared may navigate through the northern Mountain passes below the city ofWarren.

Once conflict had died down enough to return the lodge to the Cledwyn, it had fallen to disrepair. Geirant Elmin began construction of new frontier outposts past the mountains, encroaching on Lepus territory but creating a more secure buffer from the Lepus Barbarians. The Geth had not yet overcome their fear of Roden, but they had at least managed to protect themselves without the aid of the Cledwyn's humble mountain lodge.

Gofannon believed that was when the rituals began. Though not technically illegal before Arlis' decree, the Geth would certainly look down upon pleasures deemed too similar to the Sheoul excesses. Geth prided themselves on their rationality and honor. Torturing, butchering, and eating women of other sentient races would be enough to put house Cledwyn into an unspoken exile. Clipiau's isolation and the myriad hidden paths through the hills north of Innisgale made secrecy easy. The Cledwyn struggled with the thirst. It would be satiated. Shame only limited the thirst for so long. Tonight, the night of his name day, they would drink their fill of blood and pass the seed to one doomed to never conceive.

A lone figure stood leaning against a column before the lodge's entrance. He was a Geth of the spectre breed, large in arms and shoulders. His garb was simple, brown leather leggings and a ragged shirt hanging loosely upon his shoulders. A green cape flowed behind him as the wind swept through the entrance. He had been dashing once, but age had left a few teeth broken and an eye clouded. A single bronze ring hung from his right ear and the wolf twirled a blade between his fingers.

Tegau recognized the brute as the distance closed. The horses began to tread upon the stone walkway that had at one time spanned the entirety of the Ancient's Path. Legend had it a single Roden had torn the stones from the earth and wrecked all of Innisgale with them. The clack of hooves signaled an ironic tone of civilization to the horses' brains as each began to slow. Tegau's fury rose. Gofannon struggled to keep his horror hidden.

"Chirin? Fuck Stygos and damn your eyes, is that you?" Tegau dismounted, his sword swinging in its scabbard. He took a few heavy steps to the caped figure, unwilling to believe the sight before him. Chirin flicked the knife in a flourish before throwing it with all of his might into the Oak standing no more than 5 feet from Tegau's right. Tegau did not flinch. He didn't acknowledge the mock aggression at all. For a few moments, he simply stood in the shadow of Clipiau blinking his eyes and grinding his teeth.

He drew the sword from the scabbard and walked with all the dignity of a thug robbing a caravan. Gofannon himself dismounted but stood otherwise frozen not from cowardice, but shock that the figure standing before them would dare set foot in Fenra.

Tegau slowed his pace as Chirin drew a fresh dagger. "You vile, putrid filth. Runoff, refuse from the seed your father spilled upon your mother's ass. What are you doing here?! Is your arrogance so pure that you would damn us all? If Arlis gets any word of your...services...he will surely pick up the trail here." Tegau raised his blade in the same manner he had threatened Gofannon the night before. "Perhaps it's better that I should cut your accursed head from your shoulders and deliver it to him myself. At least then I could hope to collect the bounty."

Gofannon found the will to speak only through a raging curiosity. "What madness Chirin, would lead you to come here yourself when we have never had complications with an intercessor?"

Chirin stared at the brothers with all the interest of a Felidae hearing an oath. He brought the dagger to his mouth and picked his teeth. A rotten incisor bled at the blades touch. "There are some things you do yourself gentlemen. Regardless of risk, despite the consequences, you do it yourself to see it through the right way. I would gladly die to see this package delivered."

Tegau growled. It quaked within his belly before rising to his chest. Gofannon had never heard a sound like this from his elder brother. They all walked upon the world knowing their ancestry, brutally aware of their animal roots. The highwolves feigned a higher mind, distancing themselves from the cannibalistic Ursis that predated the descendants of Wyvrk and Geld. But this growl, this low, thunderous, savage rush of wind through Tegau's throat stretched farther back to a creature less than noble. He knew Chirin was as good as dead.

And then Gofannon saw her.

A stone fence had once divided the courtyard. Perhaps it had separated gardens or marked the location of a stable for horses. But now it simply trailed off to an empty patch of land to the west where it terminated beside a broken well. The grey stones of the well crumpled into a large patch of corpse like debris, though water could still be drawn from its mouth. Father always said the water within was toxic, but neither he nor Tegau had tested it.

She sat with her hands bound behind her. Her legs and arms hung thin like sticks, her body lithe and frail. Her face was sharp, ears drooping down the way Lepus' sometimes hung when downtrodden, though not as large. Her legs extended to sharp bends at the knees and her feet were hooves, far different from the elongated, digitigrade paws of the Lepus. Her cloven feet resembled something similar to the monstrous toes of a Pagith. She hung her head and stared at the ground as the last light of the day dropped closer and closer to the peaks, casting long shadows through the ancient courtyard. In her shadow, the spindly black lines of antlers stretched from beneath her hair. They were small, fresh from their velvet in winter's first grasp upon the autumn.

Gofannon knew what she was. All of his fear evaporated to astonishment. "Holy shit! Tegau look by the well!"

Tegau took a side eyed glance at their intended prize before returning his focus upon Chirin. Two seconds drifted by before the image registered in his brain. His sword dropped to his feet and he turned his body to face her. "By the Gods...its a Cervidae."

Gofannon took two steps in bewilderment. He stepped lightly, as if a noise could make her blink from existence. Tegau spoke once again, but never took his eyes from the girl. Now the bloodthirsty voice cracking from his voice almost shivered as the words formed between his teeth. "You actually found one? You crazy son of a bitch, you found one!"

Chirin flicked a rancid piece of meat from between his yellowing canines. A satisfied laugh filled the air between them. "I can't guarantee it, but she is very likely the last one alive. Sad fate that she should end up here with two pussies like you. I thought of taking her myself, but I like to deliver the goods clean whenever I can." Chirin spit upon the ground at Tegau's feet.

Gofannon reached her. He kneeled upon the dying grass to stare into her face. She was likely young, though it was hard to judge as this was the first Cervidae he had ever seen. Her beauty dripped from her form like a flower soaked in dew. She wore tight, green briefs around her waist that hugged what little flesh separated her thigh from her groin. Her earthen blouse hung loose around her shoulders obscuring very small breasts and her navel peaked out beneath its fringe on the bottom. Her fur was thin and brown with occasional white spots popping up on her flanks. Gofannon reached out his hand to grasp her narrow chin and lifted her face to gaze into her eyes. Blue...sheets of blue beamed within the irises. He had never seen a more beautiful girl in his life. His breath caught in his throat as he finally recognized the look upon her youthful face.

Hatred. A sneer, a grimace barked out as she clenched her teeth. She would be a pleasure to break.

Then he looked to her neck and winced. "Chirin, what the fuck is with this scar?" The otherwise delicate flesh of her throat was marred with a jagged line. The wound could easily be mistaken for a strange discoloration of the fur, mimicking the white spots on her legs and back, but a closer look revealed its deep and gruesome truth.

Chirin put the dagger away and began to chew on a rather pungent snuff. "Her vocal cords were cut. She can sorta whisper, but it hurts. Last time she tried she pissed herself."

Gofannon heard Tegau's steps come up from behind. "Why the hell would someone do that?" Gofannon ran his fingers through the maimed flesh as the girl closed her eyes.

"Since when do you give two shits about girls with scars? Hell it makes her look like she has a collar. It's sexy." Tegau's rage had fully evaporated. A mirth had settled in his tone.

"She won't be able to scream. That's one of my favorite parts."

Tegau kneeled beside his brother and gazed upon their toy. "What's her name?" he asked with a smile.

Chirin hesitated. He craned his neck as if some distant shout came into focus. The girl glared at him. He took a deep breath and answered. "Owinotago. At least that's what I was told." For another few moments the brothers stared in reverie. Tegau began to pant, an embarrassing tic that only showed when he felt the most intense of arousal. Gofannon likewise felt his heart race with the promise of the rarest of conquests. He imagined her look of hatred boiling away as he jammed his whole fist into her womb. He wondered what sounds she would make as he opened his hand within her.

Still, there was something going wrong, out of place. There was movement where nothing ever stirred. Gofannon felt unable to lose himself to the promise of her tears.

Chirin spit and cleared his throat. "I guess ill take my leave of you gentlemen then."

The brutish figure turned and walked slowly to the aging stallion that had carried him and the Cervidae girl here. The rough, dry crunch of ancient gravel beneath his feet echoed back and forth from the stone walls of the surrounding peaks. Tegau tore his gaze away from the girl, breaking his stupor. For a moment, the twisted machinations of his mind would have to wait.

"Aren't you forgetting something you fetid cur?" He called out with a hint of anger returning to his voice. Chirin turned. No emotion manifested upon his face. He simply looked exhausted, as if he had ridden through several nights in fear of some horror hot on his heels. Tegau hadn't noticed how bedraggled his face was in the heat of his fury.

But then, had he looked that way even a few moments earlier? Tegau pushed the thought down into his gut. "Your pay." Tegau walked back to his own horse: a regal, black mare that had carried him back and forth through Fenra all throughout his days. The horse shuddered as he approached, as if sensing some gathering horror. He opened the saddle bag and fumbled about. In a moment, his hand emerged with a small brown sack. It clanked with the weight of coins and Tegau tossed it through the air to Chirin's feet. "Be warned. Should I ever set eyes upon you again, either in Fenra or any other land in this accursed world, I won't hesitate to gouge out your eyes and feed them to you."

Gofannon felt a sinking within his stomach once again. Chirin was larger than Tegau and though the two would more than match each other in combat, should Chirin decide to take offense at Tegau's threats, he feared his brother's mouth could potentially doom them both. Gofannon ground his teeth even as he worked his claws beneath the poor girls blouse. She offered no resistance.

Chirin smiled, blood still staining his front teeth. He reached down and collected the pouch. Without a word, he drifted to his horse, mounted and galloped away.

Tegau took the scene in with dismay. "The fool didn't even count it."

Gofannon moved his hand from the Cervidae's breast and plunged his palm past her navel. He slipped his fingers into her bottoms and used the claw of his middle finger to probe her sin. His pants tightened once again as he began to slip the flesh of his finger into her. "She's wet Tegau. I think this dirty little bitch wants it." She bowed her head, her breath slowed and

deepened as he positioned another claw to part the gates to her sex. The briefs had indeed soaked through, dripping around the tight fabric barley obscuring her crotch from view. "I want to take her now. Right here in the yard like a god damn rutting Marmot. I'm not sure I can stop myself." As he spoke he pulled her panties to the side and took her in. She willfully presented herself to them. Arching her back and lying down so as to give them a better view of her shame.

But the look of hate. The narrow eyes and furled brows never left her face. "She certainly isn't struggling, though I bet if she weren't bound she would give us all kind of hell."

Gofannon heard nothing. He lifted her fragile legs and pulled them apart. Gofannon was never known for strength, but the girl was so lithe, he brought her entire body into the air and held her upside down. His tongue caressed the folds of her cunt and gently pushed, requesting to enter but not forcing its way in. The girl held her silence as Gofannon savored her nectar.

Tegau smiled, imagining his own reveries soon to come. But for now, reason needed to win out. "We need to light the fires in Clipiau brother. Night will be upon us soon and I would rather her be chained and safe within light before we begin to break her. We certainly won't eat tonight. Well, not in a way that nourishes. But let us not be interrupted by the night or the duties it requires.

Gofannon dropped her to the ground and licked his lips. She drew into herself, cradling her arms and legs close to her core. "Why hide yourself now little one? We have already become so familiar. She refused to meet Gofannon's gaze, staring into the setting sun and clenching her teeth. "Lets be done with it then so the night is ours. All the more to fan the flames of our hunger to further its savagery when we can focus all of our faculties upon her."

Tegau lifted her upon his shoulder. Her legs draped over his chest as her head slammed against his back. He turned his head and sank his teeth into her buttocks. Blood dampened thefur as a quiet squeak broke from her wounded throat.