Destiny's Atrium Chpt 1
I am dedicating this chapter to my friend Thrax Morn.
"What is more important, the duty to your people, or the respect of your fellow brothers? What would you do to save a friend? Could you sacrifice everything for the sake of saving one life?" The teachings of his long dead order rang through Zachariah's mind as he dug his fingernails into the heels of his palm, drawing droplets of blood from the freshly opened wounds. The sharp catalyst of pain served only to curb the young man's anger for a fraction of time as he began to visibly shudder under his robes. Old muscles twitched as ancient battles continued to rage on behind his eyes. Raised in a monastery after being abandoned at birth, his body became used to the iron rod and iron tongues of the monk's verbal slaughter. A daily regimen of humility and pain kept one humble before the eyes of the gods. Zachariah's only reprieve were the long winter riddled nights, buried among the dirty straw, strewn at the feet of the little stable's only occupant. An old nag who would lay next to the boy on the worst of nights, her warm breath offering hope that there was still life inside the never ending winter. A day would come that would turn Zachariah's life upside down forever. On the eve of his 12th birthday, the old nag, his only friend, passed away on a day with no sun. For three days the child sat at the base of the winter god's alter, mourning his loss. On the sunrise of the third day, the boy lit the funeral pyre, refusing to let the monks offer the carcass as a sacrifice to the fire god. Armed only with the sacred teachings of healing and the higher arts, he took off into the storm, snow blurring his form and soon consuming him from sight. Aimlessly, he wandered into the wilderness, tears freezing in their ducts and wind whipping the meager clothing from his back. As the hunger set in he could feel his life slip from his hands as he opened his arms to accept his fate. Before his eyes he could see the blurry form of the afterlife ahead of him, with warm, welcoming glow of fire and small black figures scrambling around in the sea of white. He took a few more stumbling steps when he tripped upon a rock in the snow. Zachariah's vision blurred as the little figures made their way over towards him, only after his world went dark. The boy woke to the feeling of rough, calloused hands rubbing over him with a wet rag. His perception was weak as he groaned out and weakly clutched at the hand. His world was filled with a shushing sound as a second hand came up behind him and cupped his head, assisting Zachariah into a sitting position. The minutes ticked away an eternity at a time before he could gain enough awareness to stare at the two beings in the room. The one on his left was an old creature, looking to be hewn from the very stone itself. A squat little man that came up to face level with Zachariah, staring at him with beady black eyes. With arms folded across his chest and smoke pouring from the pipe in his mouth like from the chimneys at the abbey, grumbles could be heard pouring past his granite beard and falling on deaf ears. The man on his right appeared to have been born from the essence of fire. Possessing an innate secret that none other knew, it plastered his face in a radiant smile. Streaks of peppered gray ran the length of his ruby red beard. Crow's feet wrinkled the corners of his aged eyes, accentuating the warmth coming off of him. Well honed muscles rippled down to his hands, squeezing the boy's arms in a fatherly way, eventually lifting the lad up and onto his feet. Leading Zachariah out the front door and out towards his future. Years passed and as boy became lad and lad into young man, Zachariah's view of the red headed dwarf turned from savior to mentor and mentor to father. No task was too large as his body grew to double that of the dwarves in height and physique. His father taught him in the art of the forge, crafting armor and weapons, and baubles of immense and rare beauty. Always, did his patriarch stress the importance of thankfulness and mercy, and aid those that were less fortunate than him. So once a week, father and son would visit the local temple of the mountain god, adorned with the dwarves greatest treasures and kept by the village priestess, a young woman taught of her duties from birth, now only a few years younger than Zachariah's father. Inside was a grand table in the shape of a horse shoe, illuminated with candles blazing with fire, bathing the room in a cheery, warm glow. The temple shrine stood tall in the middle of the far wall, a single arm outstretched towards the heavens, as if offering something up. At the base of its feet stood not an altar, but a basin of water littered with gold coins, and fed by an underground spring. Its healing properties used often by the locals to help the sick and injured. As time wore on, Zachariah began to develop a sense of restless anxiety that consumed his days, but regardless of what he did, he always felt like a power was knotting up inside of him. Eventually he confronted his father and begged that he undertake his master forge test, standing squarely and looking at his aging predecessor with a sense of urgency, and with his father's blessing, he was finally granted permission. For days he toiled in the village forge, sealed away from any living being, granted only water as a means of sustenance. When the time came, he presented an entire breastplate to the village elders, after which hours of bated breath, they came to an agreement. The youngest of the three pulling a wickedly curved dagger out of the folds of his robes, punctured just beneath the left breast of the armor. A gasp echoed through the crowd, and quiet murmurs began to fill the air. The elders looked disheartened as they returned the armor back to Zachariah, his shoulders slumping as he reached out to accept his failure. He turned, readying himself to face his father's disappointment, only to find him smiling. A look of queer wonder lit up on Zachariah's face as his father extended out his hand and said, "Come, walk with me." The pair made their way down the cobbled path saying little until they reached the door to the temple. "Here you will need to pass another test. This is a test all boys must pass to become men." The old dwarf explained as he walked through the entrance. Zachariah followed behind until they came into the main chamber of the temple, his broad thighs accidently bumping into his father from the dwarf's abrupt stop. "Jade, it is time for the passage of age." The dwarf turned and looked at his son as Zachariah kneeled to see him face to face. "This should help you to relax and you may try for a second master project after this. I will speak with the council of elders while you are busy here." With that, his dad turned and left. Zachariah looked around quietly, steering clear of the statue to avoid hitting the uplifted hand as he was not built to stand in dwarf constructs. As the priestess came from behind a veil of satin cloth, she stared directly at Zachariah. "To become a master smith, you must first master the life forge." Wearing only a white robe with gold trim, its loose top left little to imagination as two large, voluptuous breasts were barely contained inside. Her long golden plated, blonde hair hung freely from her head, small strands clinging to anything it could touch. "Remove your armor warrior," Jade commanded. Zachariah did as instructed and started to pull the leather from their buckles as he slowly pulled the leather from his torso. Muscles rippled like water under his skin as he continued on with his ministrations, the light catching and glinting off his sweat from work the in the forge all day, releasing a deep musk into the air. Working on his boots now, he removed them each slowly, noting how the priestess was staring at him, her tongue lightly grazing over the edges of her red lips, "Almost done now, one more to go." Zachariah hesitated for a minute, holding the strings together that kept his pants on. He stared at the priestess as she pulled first one shoulder of her robe off, then the other, holding the cloth up by her folded arms, pressing her breasts up and together. The young man stared at the large, milky white globes, each of their pink tip swelling and peaking the longer he looked. "Wha- wwa..." His jaw failed as it slackened slowly, his arms going still when a dull fire in his belly started to ignite. "Oh you virgins are always so sweet. Here let me help you with that." Swiping his hands out of the way, she made short work with the strings and got the cloth to pool at his ankles in the blink of an eye. "Come, lay with me." Grabbing a handful of Zachariah's ass, she steered him towards a bedroll made of animal hide, placed centrally under the mountain god's shrine. Laying him down, she looked into his eyes, wide as apples as they stared directly at her breasts. She jiggled them up and down and watched as his head followed the same path of motion. She traveled down the trail of man fluff with her sight, finding her half-hard prize lying limp against his thigh, nestled nicely in charcoal black hair. Smirking, Jade dropped her robe, casting it aside and watched as Zachariah's cock jumped to attention, at 10 inches of angry red, breeding meat. Her mouth came down onto his, forceful, and demanding a response. His thoughts scattered to the wind in the mad rush of desire. He gave in to her demands gladly, opening his mouth and vocalizing his surprise as she chewed on his lower lip to waken him up. He greeted her tongue with his, pushing up hard into her body as she stood squarely over the top of him, her feet on either side of his chest. The rough sweetness of her kiss pierced him. She was relentless, taking from him, consuming him. Blood rushed in his ears, fire blazed in his veins. Her hand gripped the back of his neck, commanding him, coaxing him. Her lips broke off as the stood up and brought his head to her golden hued snatch. Zachariah quickly finding out the source of the sweet smell that pervaded his senses as his nose was smooched against her folds. The blonde widened her stance and stood tall when she felt the first sultry breath waft over her bush, she stroked his head and rubbed his ears. She gasped out in delight as the warm tongue rasped through its first stroke of her snatch. "Slow, baby, go slow for Jade," she pleaded as Zachariah began working up a consistent rhythm, "go slow for me, lover, make it last so I can be all fired up before I start on you." Jade felt her crotch loosen and throb as hot blood surged to her pubes. The hairs gave no cover at all to her responsive snatch, and within a minute her bush was moist as her deprived pussy dripped onto the young man's tongue. Looking down, the blonde was thrilled with the vision of the enthusiastic human lodged between her thighs, jaws gaping as he licked slowly and deliberately between her sweat-sheathed thighs. Zachariah looked straight up into Jade's eyes while he worked his dripping tongue against her clit. He swiped his broad tongue against the width of her snatch, spreading her lips wide open. Spreading her legs wider, Jade swayed her hips from side to side, shifting and jittering until she was virtually dancing, shivering and gasping with her clit hovering over the skillful human's tireless licking. Her mouth was dry and her breath came fast as she let go of Zachariah's ears and rolled her distended brown nipples between thumb and forefinger. Standing straight up, she dropped her head back and panted for air, playing with her tits and swiveling her crotch in lingering circles over the continuous drippy blowjob. Zachariah gave frequent encouraging groans, tonguing the panting blonde's pussy towards meltdown. The shivering priestess slowly gave a husky moan of delight and spread her legs wide for the ardent human. Gasping for breath and trembling uncontrollably, she reached between her legs and peeled her lips back with both hands, giving the eager man total access to her crotch. Zachariah backed off momentarily and lunged instantly back to her exposed pussy with a delighted cry; the priestess gave a single scream of ecstasy as the man's drooling velvet tongue lapped between her lips and slithered over her pulsing clitoris. Picking her up, he pressed her into the stone wall, forcing his thigh between hers and lifting her higher, his arm around her waist. Her arms were tight around his neck and she pressed closer, as if they could somehow merge into one. The skin of her thigh was covered in goose-bumps as her breath hitched at his primal touch. As he ran his hands from her hair down over her breasts, stopping just for a second to tease her puffy nipples, and then down to her hips and butt, she stared transfixed at the pole that seemed to rise from her own legs. Suddenly worried at its size, Jade trembled when his hands moved over her ass and moved her thighs apart, positioning her so his cockhead rested lightly against her distended clit. The priestess moaned out as he moved his cock so that it was perfectly aligned with her opening and gently pushed, steadily forcing the head into her. "Warrior," Jade cried! Now convinced he'd never fit, my nether lips stretched wide, seemingly incapable of accepting him. "Aaahhhh," she groaned as she felt the head pop through, and gasped as she felt her cunt closed behind the thick head and tightened on the blue veined shaft. Zachariah worked slowly now, first feeding her three more inches before retreating, gradually working more of himself into her as she adjusted to him, to his thickness, to his length. And then he was completely in, bottomed out at the gate to her womb, and she watched as kneeling between her legs, his hands lifting and separating her legs, he started a steady rhythm of long, deep strokes, each stroke igniting a million different nerve endings the length of her cunt. Jade could feel her body stretching with each stroke, endlessly opening and closing on him, lubricating him as he pumped, coating the ling shaft with her juice, welcoming the alien intruder into her center. The pressure was exquisite; she felt as if she would shatter from the merest of any touch. Zachariah made a sound deep in his throat and renewed his assault on her mouth. Faster and faster he pistoned, each deep penetration now produces an equal response from her now shuddering center. As he lay on top of her, his tongue penetrating he lips, his hips relentlessly slamming into her, pushing his now throbbing shaft even deeper. Locking her legs around his waist her body met his thrust for thrust. "Oh Warrior!" Jade screamed out as she felt his big cock jerk up inside of her, followed by a liquid explosion, then again, and again, each ejaculation met by a pulsing opening in her depths, an acceptance of his seed. With a final throated snarl, Zachariah snapped his body back to ram his final load inside the priestess, managing only to contact his skull with the hand of the shrine, knocking loose a rather large, glittering stone. After Zachariah forged a hammer head as his master work, he always pondered why he never made a handle with it, but somehow, it just felt wrong with a handle, so he kept it looped to the charity belt he got after his father's passing on. He made it through three years in the dragon slayers guild before that fateful day. After the dragon wiped out his entire team leaving only him left, he swore vengeance on the monster while he still drew breath himself. Snapping out of his reverie, Zachariah seized up as he felt a long tongue lick the blood from his hands. Following the tongue to its owner, his saw the large grin take up whole field of vision as the dragon called out. "We'll take this one."
To be continued...
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