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Code of Dishonor: Terror of the Skies Written by Leo_Todrius Commissioned by Cidius

Dunbrune... It had once been the green jewel of the ten kingdoms, known for its pristine prairies and its sprawling forests. The mystery of Invess had been left unsolved, but after losing two battalions and an arch mage to the mystery, the king had placed the entire region under quarantine. Jabin had been evacuated, guards had been placed on every road in a radius of the dark mountain and the mages were reeling to recovery from the loss of Duron, Ragnus and Terras. The situation was dire and the other kingdoms were starting to smell blood in the water.

It would have been the perfect time to position the kingdom's best scouts on the outer perimeter to prevent the risk of invasion. While the king had stationed many good men on the outer lines, his most notable scout had been sent inland. There was no trace of him on the ground - no tracks, no crumbs, no broken brambles. The ranger was a legend in the human army, going so far as to suggest he never touched ground. It was a story, of course, but a good one.

Up in the trees, well anchored on the branches, was Greyson Adayo. He was tall and fit with great upper body strength, though he looked less refined than the kingdom's mages. His raven black hair spilled out over a sand colored headband, coming down on either side of his face. Dark stubble followed his jaw line and crept up his chin all the way to his lower lip. He had a long sand colored vest that went down to his knees, though it was left open. A black long sleeve shirt covered his torso beneath, running into his bracers that had tree climbing spikes on the underside.

Greyson gazed out at the horizon with icy blue eyes, studying the ruins of Invess and the apparent corruption spreading out from there. Whatever had started in the village was spreading. The trees had turned orange and red, the roads were turning black and animals fled from the area. What animals remained seemed to be changing and growing. Despite it all, Greyson had seen no sign of any of the men sent to the area, no evidence of their life or deaths. The ranger had seen many things in his life but nothing had ever prepared him for the spread. He reached up and brushed a black bang out of his eyes before he opened his backpack and pulled out a ration pack, breaking off a piece of bread to nibble on, unaware that he was being observed from afar as well.

Several miles away, standing on a hillside, the beast lord gazed at the scout with great contemplation and a bit of intrigue. The beast lord's orange mane blew about in the hot wind while his black and white feathers barely fluttered. His serpentine tail flicked about behind him, something that Stone Fangs seemed to enjoy watching. The beast lord turned his head, looking to his three generals. The snake, the dragon and the tiger stood by, ready to take on any challenge.

"Stone Fangs, your naga have made no progress?" The beast lord asked.

"Every time they approach, he changes position before they can capture him." Stone Fangs admitted.

"And yet he has not reported them to the king?" The beast lord asked.

"He is so good at anticipating their approach, he has not seen them." Razor Claw amended. The beast lord chuckled at that.

"This human evades our best hunters on the land... I think we have finally found the one to join our cause. It will take cunning, manipulation and some of our best magics. Razor Claw, I will be relying on you especially for this." The beast lord said. Razor Claw bowed his head.

"It is my honor." He replied. The beast lord turned, looking out across the corrupted woods to the unsuspecting ranger, imagining what was yet to befall him.

****

The days had passed, the rains had come and gone and a stillness spread through the corrupted lands. Greyson had moved from point to point, trying to get a clearer view. It was near sunrise on the seventh day when he had seen the camp fire, the first true evidence of life. As a ranger, his duties were clear. He penned a letter to the king by hand regarding the corrupted lands and the danger they posed, strapped it to the leg of his hawk and sent the bird flying before he closed in.

The journey was not an easy one when it was necessary to obscure all traces of his travels but he made it to the outskirts of Jabin. In all likelihood the signs of life he saw was a mere citizen refusing to leave, staying behind, but he had to know. Greyson climbed up the back of a house and moved along the tiled roof, heading for the center of town. He ducked low to the roof lines and skirted around chimneys before he paused, seeing the flickering of light.

Sitting near the town's square was a survivor of sorts. His hair was as dark as night but his skin was almost as pale as ice. His long hair hung out of the hood, draped down his shoulders. The survivor's black tunic and cloak were worn but held up well. The only color he had came from the periwinkle blue gauntlets wrapped around his wrists, carved out of an ancient stone. The man was warming his hands over a fire, looking around the village slowly.

Greyson was an expert of human nature. They weren't the eyes of someone longing for his neighbors. The stranger was waiting for something, for someone... for him. It was a trap. Greyson had been led into an ambush. Rather than fleeing immediately, he remained still for over a minute, waiting for the burning logs to crackle. With that sound, he moved back the way he had come, putting distance between himself and the stranger.

The ranger moved from roof to roof again, leaping from one to the next. He built up speed, moving faster and faster toward the edge of town, but as he lunged over one gap he heard a sizzling hiss of a serpent beneath him. Stone fangs clawed up at the human, trying to grab him, failing as Greyson landed on the opposing roof.

The ranger's heart raced. He'd never seen a beast quite so foul. He turned and moved even faster, panting hard. Without warning, orange scaled claws dug into the roof ahead of him before Salamand scurried up, his tail whipping around. Greyson wasted no time changing course, though Salamand closed in until Greyson leapt to a higher roof, grabbing onto the gutter before he hoisted himself up. Salamand jumped but missed, his heavy body clattering to the ground below.

Greyson couldn't help but feel a bit prideful of his escape. The enemies were terrifying but they didn't seem suited to his style of escape. He kept pressing forward, seeing the trees before him, the call of shelter. His boots slammed into the ceramic tiles as he kept going, unaware of the shadow lurching over the roofline. Razor Claw came down on all fours, the tiles cracking beneath his paws as he raced after Greyson. The ranger kept going, hearing the crunch of tike behind him. Grey reached the edge of the last roof and jumped, arching through the air. Fearing nothing, Razor Claw pushed after him, hitting the human, the two careening downward. They hit the dirt and rolled for several feet before the tiger man pinned Greyson.

The ranger tried to reach for his daggers but fangs pressed to his neck; threatening a fearsome cut to should he continue. Greyson gritted his teeth, forcing himself to look over his shoulder at his captor. Seeing that face, a shudder of terror ripped through him. He knew that face - those cheek bones, the nose, the chin, the eyes... they belonged to the arch mage, Terras, one of the lost ones.

"Oh my spirits..." Greyson whispered. Heavy taloned feet came down into the dirt as the stranger moved around the corner, his black hair turning ginger orange as his mane and horns emerged again, his robe turning into smoke that drifted away.

"Call out and you shall be answered." The beast lord grinned. Greyson looked up at the beast with the head of a lion, the wings of an eagle, the feet of a dragon and the tail of a snake. The pieces didn't belong on the same creature but somehow they all blended for the man. Terras panted happily at the thrill of having captured prey and Stone Fangs and Salamand soon appeared behind their master.

"Duron, Ragnus... They didn't die, they became... this?" Greyson murmured to himself, wondering how it was even possible.

"I assure you, ranger, this is a fate far better than death. These fine mages have discovered their true purpose in life, their goals and desires, their pleasures and hopes. It isn't too late for you to do the same." The beast lord whispered. Greyson smirked.

"Use whatever spell you want on me, I will not come to you willingly. I am honor bound to the king." Greyson said. The beast lord snorted derisively.

"The code of honor... It is a tool for weak men to obligate others. It is the code of dishonor that you should follow. It is the instinct of humans, of all living beings... And look at what joy it has brought these fine men?" The beast lord asked, crouching down to run a claw along Greyson's cheek. Greyson merely looked at Terras.

"Mages... susceptible to black magic. I can see how you corrupted them so easily, but I am harder to sway. You cannot influence something that isn't there." Grey replied. The beast lord grinned, a clawed hand starting to work at his groin.'

"My generals have magic in common, its true, but it isn't as though you have nothing to offer. You are skilled, you are talented, and you are stealthy. No human has evaded my desires quite so long." The beast lord said. Greyson smirked a bit.

"Sorry to waste your time then." He mused. The beast lord leaned down, his tongue slathering out of his lips to lick up the human's cheek. Greyson closed his eyes at that but the beast lord smiled.

"Some things are worth the wait..." he whispered before he stood up, sliding his hand through his furry pelt, withdrawing his demonic shaft. It glistened in the light with moisture, pulsing in time with the beast lord's heart. The other generals grew anxious as their own members emerged, each distinct and unique, thicker and longer and more complex than any human being's.

The beat lord began to stroke his shaft over the captured human, the musky smell filling the air. At first Greyson had no idea what the smell was, but e soon put two and two together as the tiger on his back started to gyrate. The human struggled more than before, clawing at the ground, trying to escape. The tiger humped him more, drawing claws through the vest, slicing it apart. The beast lord, however, shook his head.

"Some men are born to greatness. Pothers... must be reborn." The beast lord said, holding out his hands. The periwinkle gauntlets he had been wearing appeared in his hands, a seam split down the middle as they unhooked. The beast lord brought one down, pushing it around Greyson's forearm. Greyson struggled to rest, trying to snatch his hand away but the beast lord pushed a talon against his palm, pinning him there. The gauntlet slipped shut and the seam disappeared, the stone firming and solidifying before it began to shrink.

Greyson's back arched out as the stone compressed on his wrist, almost painfully tight, making his bone ache. The beast lord moved to the other side and applied the other gauntlet as well. It fused and shrank, locking onto Greyson. The human called out, struggling, begging for help under his breath. There was no one there to hear his cries and feel mercy. The beast lord turned, looking at his generals, knowing they each had their uses.

"Razor Claw, thank you for the capture. Stone Fangs, would you make him more receptive?" The beast lord asked. Stone Fans let out a hiss of delight as he reached forward, pricking the back of Greyson's neck. The ranger refused to yelp at the pain, but he wasn't prepared for the venom that coursed through his body. His back went limp, then his arms and legs, his head lolling to the ground where he rested on a cheek, each breath blew the dust of the ground back and froth.

"And now me, my lord?" Salamand asked hopefully. The beast lord nodded.

"His attire isn't worthy of the ritual." The beast lord said. Salamand grinned, his eyes burning with desire before he held out his hands. Orange flames engulfed Greyson, not harming him at all but catching his clothes on fire. His headband crackled and burned away, leaving his hair to fall across his face. His vest jacket went up next, then his undershirt and his pants.

The generals watched on as the cloth turned to ash and blew away to reveal the flesh beneath. Greyson was well muscled, particularly in the shoulders. His body was more grizzled than the mages had been. Greyson's life of climbing and fleeing was shown with scars, cuts and bruises. He had been manly and brave, but now he was paralyzed and at the mercy of others.

The last of his sleeves burned away, revealing his naked form... save for the blue cuffs. Greyson panted hard, not able to look at them. The veins and capillaries running beneath the gauntlet had started to shift, turning faintly blue as the magic was cast from the gauntlets into his form, but it was weak like an ember in the wind, teetering on the edge of greatness and nothingness at the same moment. The beast lord knew he needed more to be reborn, a lot more... and the beast lord was happy to give that.

The generals watched happily as the beast lord started to stroke himself off. His deadly hands slid up and down the shaft, caressing the contours. He rolled his head back, licking his lips slowly, feeling the heft of his wings spreading out.

"You know, Greyson, you are truly destined for greatness." The beast lord exclaimed before his shaft released the first spurt of precum. The milky white fluid arched through the air before it splattered on Greyson's backside, strings soaking his round ass. The beast lord moaned, "There is no one that will compare to the skills you have, nor the ones you will gain. You will have such pride and prestige." The beast lord said.

"Is that how you helped them to fall? Offered them greatness?" Greyson mumbled, still paralyzed... though strangely he could feel the hot wet on his ass, running into the cleft between his cheeks. The beast lord merely laughed at the statement.

"I offered them mind boggling pleasure, a lifetime of purpose and joy. They were wise enough to accept... But you, my friend... are just as worthy." The beast lord said, jerking himself off harder, the flow from his shaft increasing. He began to send a shower of pre down onto the ranger, producing more in a few seconds than a human could in a day's worth of sex. The stream of pre splattered on the ass cheek, filling the cleft up before it ran down his hips and between his legs, coating his groin before dribbling beneath him. The liquid began to spread out in a puddle, covering the dirt and forming a wide puddle... a puddle that was starting to harden. Before long Greyson felt more like he was laying on a tile floor rather than the ground.

"There's nothing like it, abandoning yourself to the joy, feeling him caress your very soul." Stone Fangs whispered, starting to jack himself off as well before his serpentine shaft began to spew his own juices forward. Unlike the beast lord, Stone Fangs seemed to target hi shoulders, covering the flesh there as it ran down into his arm pits and collected beneath him as well.

"The lesson I learned in all of this is family, the bond, the connection we share in common purpose." Salamand moaned, "I know we have each other's backs. How long have you been alone, ranger? Left in the woods, chasing ghosts? Don't you want to be with others?" Salamand asked, moaning as well as his shaft began to gush, sending a torrent of pre down to cover the ranger's feet.

Greyson said nothing, fighting the coating, fighting his paralysis. He bit his lip, willed himself to move but didn't budge. He felt so defeated, so vulnerable. He had to resist, but he could already feel something happening. His arms ached so much, feeling like they were being hollowed out. It didn't help that the pre that coated his arms seemed to grow thicker before dribbling off, adding to the sea beneath him. The endless flow of semen continued to pour, though the liquid seemed to be following an unnatural shape. It didn't' spread out much past Greyson, building up around him instead. The outer edges continued to harden like marble while the liquid inside filled up like a bowl. The pre soaked Greyson but he tried to resist the heat and the miniscule wiggling of the liquid.

"You have no idea how precious this gift is... to start again, to be reborn the right way... as a beast man. I envy you." Razor claw whispered before he let out a roar, cumming hard as well. The sperm hit the human's head, soaking his black hair, running down his face. Greyson clenched his lips tight and tried to exhale; blowing the slop away, but the tiger was too into it. He hosed down the human's eyes and nose, his mouth, his hair, showering him with the lust juices that thickened. One by one, the others were becoming overburdened by the orgasm, their pre turning into fully rich, fully fertile sperm.

The gauntlets continued their work, infusing Greyson with magic. The ranger was helpless as his hands were submerged in pools of cum, the liquid only enhancing the magic that spread through him. Soon the ranger's chest lightened, feeling hollow before his legs did the same. The sensation was intense, particularly as it became more of a challenge to breath. Greyson's fear stopped being centered on his corruption and became more simplistic as the sperm levels climbed up his throat and chin, soaking his stubble as it moved for his nose.

Using every bit of muscle strength he had, he hoisted his head up, watching the ivory prison build around him. The walls slipped upwards more and more and the cum filled them up. Before long Greyson was in what seemed to be a basin, but the basin continued to round. The hard, crunchy outside moved around his shoulders and hips, widest along his hips before it started to narrow again. The outer edge flowed almost like gelatin holding the fluid inside at bay.

Greyson closed his eyes and began to think of a prayer, something to absolve him of the sin of drowning in the juices of other men. He felt the hot slick cover his nose and fill his nostrils and ears, the light diminishing above him as the shell closed more and more, shrinking down to a gap the size of a winter ham, then an orange, most finally a mere blade of grass. As long as a hole remained in the shell, the four beast men poured their seed into it before at last it sealed.

The beast lord looked down at his creation, a man sized egg. The shell was a yellowish white, speckled like a bird's egg... though a faint blue pulsing of light came from the inside where the true change was taking place.

The liquids separated, growing more complex. A sticky layer covered the inside of the shell before a thick tube branched out from it, wiggling up to Greyson's navel. Greyson tried to squirm and get away, but the tube connected to his stomach, anchoring him like a chick developing inside his mother's egg.

As Greyson thrashed, he expended the last of his air. The carbon dioxide filled his lungs and cheeks, burning and then aching before his body could last no more. He exhaled, breathing in the sperm desperately. As the musky, salty, potent sperm filled his lungs and mouth, he felt his life starting to slip away. His eyes fluttered for a moment before they shut and he lingered in the suspension. It was almost like he could feel the sperm wriggling against his skin, massaging him as he felt like he was dying... but somehow he managed to stay alive, his body clicking on one step at a time.

Greyson floated there in the warm goo, starting to feel something else at the back of his mind... contentment. It caught him off guard and he tried to resist, but after years of living in the cold and the harsh, moving from post to post... He was finally somewhere warm, somewhere comfortable. It felt quite good even though he hated it, wondering if the generals were outside, adding on more and more layers to his cum soaked prison.

A sudden twitch came up his right arm as he felt strength returning, but only for a moment. It let him swing his arm before it was numb again. As his arm moved, the arm hair slipped off and the skin beneath hardened, turning from flesh to a dark tan and then brown. The skin tightened so much that it crinkled up, cracks forming before the leathery flesh took on a more animal like appearance.

The rough pattern spread out from his forearm, both up his elbow and down to his wrist before spreading over his hand. His fingers grew, his fingernails stretched into claws and the claws hardened into talons. Greyson tried to move again, managing only a slight thrash out of his left arm that soon started to change as well. Greyson was barely conscious, his lungs not able to process the sperm but his body getting oxygen from the cord that connected him to the outside of the egg.

The sperm seemed to flow around the inside of the egg almost with a current of its own, passing back and forth through his short beard. As the hair drifted back and forth, it started to stiffen, taking on a firm shell almost like a quill before tiny feathers began emerging from each quill. The short downy feathers lined his jaw bone and chin, creeping up his cheeks before it spread into his hair. His black mane almost exploded, each individual hair shattering and spreading out into a silver and black feather.

The change swept down his head, his bangs disappearing entirely, but the feathers weren't stopping with his hair. They grew out of his throat, his neck, then his chest and shoulders. A mane of feathers ringed his head and grew down his stomach and even his upper legs, though his thrashing feet started to gain their own talons, taking on the leathery surface his arms had. Greyson felt more and more of his strength returning, but at the cost of something more precious... his mentality.

The ranger tried to focus on his life, from his childhood in the glens of Handred to his training at the castle to the perfection of his specialization. He couldn't give up his life. He couldn't give up his dreams, but each time he thought of them it was as if they flashed out of his mind. Soon the ranger's restraint eroded away. Without memories of what he was losing, there was nothing to fear. His eyes relaxed, his muscles went limp and he floated in his gooey cocoon of demon sperm, basting away as he changed.

The ranger's nose firmed as well as a second layer of boney mass spread down from his eyebrows. It covered his nose like a crest, taking on a yellow color before it pushed past the tip of his nose, curving down into a deadly point. While his eyes, lips and cheeks were human, the head full of feathers and the beak cover made it look like he had on the helmet of a bird. It was truly more than that.

After an entire life of climbing trees, his body had been trained to be strong. His muscles were ready, though his forming bird bones were light. The muscles began to shift and change before bony appendages pushed out of his shoulders, stretching the skin with them like a sail before feathers emerged from the skin, covering it quickly. The feathers were beautiful, taking on crisp silver tones and black shadows as the patterns filled in.

The wings spread out behind his shoulders, the feathers maturing, though the wings were soon tucked around the former human, trapped by the egg that contained him. Greyson continued to shift, his mind resetting itself. He lost all concept of duty, heroism, training. He knew nothing but the fact that he was warm and wet and precisely where he should be... and that he was loved. As that thought spread through his mind, Greyson's shaft throbbed and firmed, pushing out bright red and wet in his egg full of cum, growing longer and thicker, the head tapering to a point.

As the bird man fluttered in his egg, the last change shifted along his ass as the feathers grew out longer there. While the rest of the generals had tails, Greyson gained a feather crest worthy of a hawk or eagle. Te crest waggled up and down as the muscles got used to it all, his transformation slowly coming to an end. Soon Greyson felt no need to thrash or fight, no need to resist at all. He basted in the juices that had created him, asleep and content, unaware the world outside was waiting.

The generals had devolved into their lusty states given what they had just done. Stone Fangs had grabbed Salamand to kiss and lick filling the dragon with his venom to arouse him more. They traced clawed hands across each other, rubbing sinuously. Razor Claw, however, kept thrusting his hips at the egg, cumming over and over again, his tiger seed rolling down the firm shell. After all his years as a moral guardian for young mages, the idea of creating a new life made him feel so proud. The beast lord patted Razor Claw on the shoulder, knowing the tiger had the right idea.

Once more the beast lord started to thrust his hand up and down his shaft, imagining all the souls he would bring to his cause, looking at the handsome beast men he had created already. It was enough to send him over the edge and he came a bit more, sending out hot cum onto the egg. The heat leaked into the egg, warming it up more, making it a bit less comfortable. Inside, Greyson awake from his rebirth, squirming more. It was time to leave the egg, to venture into the world. Clawed hands and feet moved out, starting to scratch at the egg, eroding the shell... but his instincts told him of a faster way.

Stone Fangs gasped as the beak pierced through the shell with precision accuracy. The fluids from inside began spraying out of the hole but Greyson punched several more holes into his prison with his beak. As the liquid drained, the shell lost its strength. Soon claws broke through and the shell shattered. Pieces were discarded before a long leathery arm emerged, pulling a bird body after it.

The newly reborn hawk tried to climb onto the edge of the shell, but his body weight crushed the shell and it crumbled away with one tidal wave of sexual fluids in every direction. The pieces of egg washed out over the dirt as the hawk man blinked, his eyes clearing for the first time. He looked around before he focused in on the figure before him. Piercing blue eyes cleared, resolving on the image of the beast lord.

As Greyson looked at the strong, tall figure before him covered with fur and scales and muscle, he knew that it had to be his father, his master, his daddy and creator. Greyson murmured before he moved forward, nuzzling the beast lord's legs. The beast lord grinned, giving the hawk's feathers a pet as the liquid evaporated from them. He stroked the head several times before he took a hold of his cock and brought it down onto one of Greyson's shoulders, then the other.

"I dub thee Silver Wing the Notorious... My son and assassin." The beast lord whispered. Silver Wing looked up at his master, accepting his new identity before he stretched, his barely human lips parting to slide over the tip of his father's shaft. He began suckling at once, bobbing his head forward and back. His father's shaft tasted like love and home and completion. There was none of the old ranger left.

The beast lord raised a hand and summoned the other generals. Stone Fangs dropped to the ground and slithered beneath the hawk man, moving to unhinge his jaws and take Silver Wing's cock into his mouth, sucking eagerly. Salamand clambered forth, grabbing onto Silver Wing's feathered hips, forcing the crest up before he plunged his dragon cock into the bird's ass.

Silver Wing suckled and bucked, bouncing between thrusting into Stone Fang's mouth and backing up against Salamand's rod, but soon he felt one furry paw stroking his feathers as the tiger began to spray him down with cum again. The air was rich with lust and corruption, enough that the change to the ranger was only a start. The cobblestone of Jabin turned from gray to black as the trees around began to grow thicker, the bark becoming tough as the leaves turned orange. Vines began to sprout, growing thorns and spreading out in a thick and dangerous web that would prevent any from making it to the village, at least any that did not have the beast lord's blessing.

The beast lord was surprised at how eager his new 'son' was to please him, sucking away like an expert. Despite his new continence, it was not Silver Wing that was the first to lose himself to orgasm. That honor came to Razor Claw as he spilled as much seed as he could, his eyes rolling into the back of his head before he collapsed. Stone Fangs came next, feeling so overwhelmed by the presence of the beast lord and the creation they had taken part in together.

As his allies fell, Salamand couldn't hold on and tipped his head back, hissing as he pumped Silver Wing full of cum, going limp against his back. The beast lord panted hard, watching his generals go weak in the knees, but still Silver Wing sucked... and sucked, almost gluttonously. The beast lord moaned and soon came and Silver Wing gulped at the seed, nourishing himself from it, his blue eyes gazing up obediently.

The beast lord came for what felt like minutes, then hours before even his strength faltered. He stumbled and came down onto his knees, panting hard. His new creation kept going with no end in sight. It seemed he was equipped to be an assassin in very many different ways, but in it all he was completely loyal... and the beast lord knew what to do.

"Cum for me!" he demanded. Silver Wing pulled off of his 'father's' shaft and let out a bird call to the heavens, his hawk cock exploding with sperm before he fell limp over the others, draping his wide wings over them all like blankets. Silver Wing's chest rose and fell rapidly, his heart beating way too fast before he seemed to pass out. The beast lord panted as well, out of breath. He licked his lips slowly, though. At last he had done it.

The beast lord finally had an agent of the skies, an assassin, a general that could elude any. He had created a terror of the skies that would make anyone think twice of opposing him. It was almost time to take things to the next level, though before that it s time for a nap with the family he had created. The beast lord moved to lay down with Silver Wing, hearing the hiss of his snake, the content growl of his dragon and the happy chuffing of his tiger. The beast lord smiled to himself as he closed his eyes. After a short rest they would continue on... together.