Drulissa's Domain

He sees the flesh of his love It consumes him with desire Her scent, her taste The look in her eye It is all he wants His every waking moment exists  for her charms and for their lovemaking She loves his strength,  she loves to feel herself crushed by it When they're together, nothing else matters She knows that if one must be conquered,  then both should lose But there's always another day tomorrow  when they can begin again.

He rode a horse with wings of fire, He broke the chains of Death and Hell, And took the souls of mortal men. He built a throne of jewels rare, And took his place on high to reign; And called himself King of Fire. And when he passed each year and day The sun would go out like a lamp And night would fall where'er he came. He sat within the flames of light, Upon a jeweled golden throne, And claimed for him the highest right. The years rolled by in silence grim Until an army rode against him, A band of warriors fierce and bold. They knew not that their cause was lost, They thought that they were strong enough To slay that dragon, deadly foe. But no one ever returned alive— No single man had lived that day: And now that very same red king Is riding down through distant days. His sword lies broken at his side, And blood drips from his lips and chin: And though it's said the thing must die, I wish the world could find another! For if the beast returns once more To set the world ablaze

I feel the hate burn inside you Turning your soul a cinder Leaving you without a voice Or hope or future promise. You think that if you do not care, You won't be hurt again; So now you are contented To walk along an open trail; And those who come behind you Are helpless victims blind. The love I have given you Is dead upon my lips: The pain I felt before Has grown into despair. I watch the fear grow thick and strong, While others turn away— The terror and the dread you bring— The blood runs cold and thin. The madness and the horror— They wait at the door. They've always been here, and they'll never leave you— The demons of the past! For you are doomed to live with them forever Until the moment you perish from this world. I know what's coming... I know that your heart will break! But let this truth console your spirit. When all is lost to you: The agony will end in glory And only your God ...knows how.

His eye caught the movement right before his lips met hers. A tree branch does not move on its own. She gasped as he shoved her against the tree trunk and leaped to his feet. The first spider jumped onto the shore and hissed. He put his boot on the log and shoved, rolling it over and sending the other three spiders into the same river which nearly claimed her. They hissed and thrashed as they were washed away into the black water. The giant log floated after them, rolling over, crushing one, and trapping the other two underneath to drown as the fallen tree was swept down the river. Strong spider legs cut through the air toward his bare chest, and he fell backward, rolling over and grabbing a large rock. The last spider hissed, and his eyes darted toward the fire. Ophelia pressed herself against the trunk, eyes wide with fear. The spider’s fangs dripped venom, and the beast snapped at him twice, using its fangs to try to lure him into the spider’s spear-like front legs. Each time he jum

 I sit here, your eyes upon me. You stare and watch,  eyes dreaming of impassioned lusts. My breath is in the air you breathe;  my words are on your lips! Come! let us revel to our heart's content — a night full of sweet madness,  free from bounds and limits! Do not fear — do not think!  The past is gone,  for I have taken it away with me into eternity All its remembrances will melt like a dream within my soul!  There is nothing left but joy and passion  — there is nothing now that has been or can be!" And so she spoke:  then suddenly became silent,   and sat without moving,  save as her bosom rose slowly,  tumultuously,  heaving in the swellings of an agony she was powerless to repress. How sweet the nectar from my loins? How fast my heart doth beat when you draw near? Oh, Gods! What pleasures are mine ever since first I met thee! I am mad, insane with ecstasy — with love! Why have these things come unto me? Is it because this wild lust is all about me? For I feel the kisses

The tribe traveled under the stars, walking upon endless dunes, down try washes, and across scrub valleys with scant vegetation. She would be lost if alone, and she wondered how the tribe knew where they needed to go. To her, this felt like walking in darkness with a group of warriors ready to kill. The moon continued its endless arc across the night sky, and she watched the dome of beautiful stars above her spin like some grand cathedral ceiling filled with the heavens putting on a show. Fayla walked beside her, giving her a smile in the moonlight as the group walked silently toward their destination. Hadaj called for a stop, and Amelia was thankful because the night was starting to draw very cold. A murmur erupted from the tribe as they split into small groups and took shelter on a rocky hill. Amelia and a dozen other warrior women huddled between two boulders, and Fayla warned Amelia away from some smaller rockpile because they could be the home of snakes. She hadn't seen a snak

He ran like the devil possessed. She darted down the river, floating, gasping for air, trying to grab onto rocks but having the river’s current sweep her away. At times, she saw him and screamed, and he ran as fast and as hard as he could, chasing her. He charged straight through thickets and cusps of reeds. He knew he was bleeding; thorns and whipping branches had lashed his face and arms, but he did not care. He needed to save her before the cold, dark river claimed her life. He rushed to a point ahead of her, his lungs burning, his heart beating, and splashed onto a rock. He held out his hand and watched her approach. She grabbed his hand, and he tried to hold on. Her skin was cold. Her grip was weak. Hypothermia was already setting in. Her eyes stared into his, and she had this look. Let me die; save yourself. Gods no! Her hand slipped away, and the river swept her away from him again. No! No gods, no! He turned and ran after her again. I will not let you die. He blew through thick

They made camp late at a spot where the river drew close to the road. The rivers through the Dark Forest ran fast, and the noise would conceal any attackers, but they needed to fill their waterskins and let the horse eat a patch of tall grass the dark elf said was safe. He wondered if the ones chasing her had given up. He stoked the fire, poking at the logs as they glowed with hot ash. Killers need proof. If they did not find a body, they would continue looking. He wasn’t willing to bet on the odds they gave up, especially since the Dark Forest is dark elven land. She sat against a log across the fire, hands still tied behind her. Her face seemed lost and sullen. Her eyes met his, and she made the quiet plea with her brows that she meant him no harm. He continued stoking the fire, poking his stick between the red innards of a log almost broken in half from the fire. “Sorry.” The voice was hers. Weak, faint, she swallowed as if making the sound somehow took a lot out of her. “So, you sp

They broke camp; he quenched the fire and did his best to conceal their presence. He kept her wrists tied but had her beside him on the driver’s seat of the wagon. The air held a wet chill today, so he kept her wrapped in the bedroll, and she laid her head on his shoulder as they rode. The black willow trees surrounded them, spiders’ webs hanging in drapery on the sad branches above them, and behind every slick black trunk laid an imaginary enemy in waiting. Giant spiders. Dire wolves. And any manner of beasts which made the dark forest home. Dark elves too. The road they followed was built before dark elves ever came to this land, a weed-grown, broken cobbled trail filled with muddy puddles, patches of overgrown weeds, and a few tracks here and there from travelers stupid enough to make the trip. The way never could stay straight, and it curved and weaved around the trees and small hill-like mounds of the forest floor. “We need to make time.” She nodded and buried her face into his st

Ashes covered her feet and the bottom hem of her nightgown as she wandered through the fields of the dead. It was upon a dreary plain that she went, where lay only wrecks — human bones whiter than ivory bleaching in sunless mounds or grinning at her from beneath decaying hands and faces which still seemed to linger with half-open mouths, cursing those who had violated their rest for no purpose but to feed the carrion vultures. At length, there came a day when Iris was so weary that she sat down upon an old skull whose teeth were worn away, leaving it very hollow indeed, though still fastened to its melancholy throne by a small strip of scalp. She thought of nothing now save to keep alive until this sad heart might cease to beat, to wait patiently for the long-deferred relief that death would bring her. But alas! these things are never destined to be brought about. There is no relief here below: no respite from grief or care. In vain did the young girl's eyes fill up with tears as o

All, my dark-elven sister Lanyth has also agreed to share her dark and sultry works with us here for you to enjoy. They will be tagged with Lanyth, and one is going up shortly. May you enjoy the eternal dance in the darkness. -Dru

The warrior pilgrims spent the day preparing to die. Even Amelia's love and bride-to-be Fayla spent the day sharpening her swords and readying herself for war. The taller woman, the one who kissed Amelia the night before, handed her a spear - a weapon she did not know how to use, but if the tribe was heading into battle, everyone needed to defend themselves. Amelia watched the elders of the tribe discuss plans among themselves, planning a move later in the day, giving everyone a chance to rest, and nearing the temple under cover of darkness. They discussed having the tribes travel at night so they could make their way through the near the attackers with less difficulty, avoiding any tribal enemies on their route towards the Temple of Kayala. The death cult was still out there, somewhere, looking for her. She could feel it as though it were following her. She looked over at Fayla and nodded, smiling weakly as she held her new wife's hand and kissed her cheek. Fayla smiled at her

He woke with her facing him, her face nuzzled into his neck and her body pressing firmly against his. The rain had broken, and the sun fought to pierce the clouds, but the gray and dreary weather fought a hard battle to keep them wet and miserable. She groaned and nuzzled his unshaven neck, almost like a lover. The thought of a butcher of his friends and fellow soldiers enjoying his company turned his stomach, but he did not know the ways of the dark elves and their perverse pleasures. Perhaps this somehow entertained her? Maybe she was toying with him? He sighed and pushed her away, realizing his hand rested upon her breast through her dress, and his face flushed with embarrassment. He had never touched a woman in such a way, not unintentionally. She moaned softly and squirmed, and he withdrew his hand and shook the thought from his mind. He could not mistreat his prisoner. No matter how badly her kind treated humankind. A small pendant stuck to his hand from a chain around her neck.

 All of them were dead. His face was pressed into the moist peat-like soil as the rain washed the blood off his armor. He was cold. The forest around him hissed with the sound of rain, and a moist fog hung like the pall of a funeral. Dirt crept under his fingernails as he pulled himself towards the road. He could not find his sword. He called out, “Mitchell, Brandon, Wilson?” Only the pattering of the rain answered him. His worst fears were confirmed. He pulled himself to the road and dared look up and down the muddy track. Dead bodies were everywhere, his allies and enemies alike. Man, dwarf, and dark elf were all joined in unholy and everlasting sleep. Why had he lived? He swallowed hard and pushed himself to his hands and knees, his body still weak from his injuries. He crawled to the side of a tree and pulled several bandages from his pouch. He knew he had lost much blood and needed to stop losing more. His head still hurt from the heavy blow he took to the side of his temple, and