Daghot stood in Neventesia's throne room, afraid to meet the gaze of his
queen but also unable to divert his vision from the dark beauty. Any
memories of himself were gone, knowing only unrivaled loyalty to his new
master. A demonic red flame awoke in his eyes, never to be extinguished.
His subconscious mind would remain quiet evermore.
"Now, my child," Neventesia began. "You serve only one. Whom do you serve?" "You, my queen," Daghot replied with a voice that was almost his own, but somehow darker. Smiling, Neventesia slowly turned around and made her way back to her throne. She bade her slave to follow, which he did unquestioningly. "You gave into your temptations willingly, weather you realize it or not," Neventesia started as she sat. "You saw me as I truly am, and still you couldn't stop yourself. None can. Had you given in before seeing the true Neventesia, it would have accomplished only sating my desires for a short time. Willingly, you surrendered your body and soul to me." Daghot didn't care about the how or why of what had happened to him, as long as it happened again. Neventesia knew this as well, but she reveled in her own power. She told Daghot the truth just to show herself the total control she wielded over him.
"I first came to you as a woman of peak physical beauty. Your own willpower caused you to see through the facade quickly, which made me want you and your power as my own that much more. You lasted longer than most, and for that I commend you. It took almost an entire two minutes before you tasted me," Neventesia said through a shrill laugh. "Nevertheless," she continued, "you did taste me, and now you are mine. Was it good?" Daghot nodded excitedly as Neventesia spread her legs and touched herself. "Of course it was. Would you like to partake of me again?" The necromancer nodded furiously as he began to move towards her. "STOP!" Neventesia bellowed the command, which made Daghot's world shake. He dropped to his knees and looked up at her, his eyes pleading. "You will taste me again, my necromancer. But not yet. First you must do as I command." "Anything, my queen," Daghot replied. "I do not doubt that, slave. Your powers as you knew them are no more, as you are no longer loyal to the teachings of Rathma or Trang-Oul. You still remain a conduit of power, however, and your magics are now more powerful than you have ever known. Hell itself is now the supplicant for you."
Neventesia arose and made her way toward the necromancer. "You will go to Denfent, a civilization to the south-west of Tristram. You will put an end to the plague of demons that I sent there just recently and gain the trust of the townsfolk. You already know what you must do. It is in Denfent that my will shall become legion." The succubus walked in a slow circle around Daghot, gently running her erotic fingers under his chin. "I shall obey your will, my queen," the necromancer said while rising. "The people of Denfent will soon be yours to command."
With a wave of Neventesia's hand, a shimmering portal appeared in the midst of the dark chamber. The demon queen looked Daghot up and down and shook her head. "Come now," she giggled, "no true hero of the light will arrive to save the world naked and lacking weapons!" With another wave of her hand, the necromancer found himself wielding a femur bone tipped with a skull that dripped a steady flow of blood from its orifices. He wore a suit of black full-plate armor, with dagger-like bones protruding from it. A black helm was on his head, a red skull superimposed at his forehead. His gauntlets, which were also black and had small bone spikes protruding from the knuckles, crackled with raw energy as he moved his fingers. The pale necromancer grinned approvingly.
"Go now Dagh-," Neventesia began, "No, you will no longer be known as that, necromancer. I shall call you Saradom. You will be the harbinger of my will to the world of mortals. Make them obey! You know what must be done! Now, make it so!" With that, Neventesia sent Saradom through the portal.
Saradom found himself standing in a plush green field. To the south he saw civilization, which he knew must be the land called Denfent. He grabbed the base of his weapon, which was no longer a rod but felt to be the pommel of a sword. He looked down and was almost blinded. His armor was no longer an unholy black plate, but a highly polished silver with the impression of the head of a noble lion upon it. His skin was no longer pale but tanned almost to the shade of the men of the north. He could feel his muscles bulging about as he moved his arms, his body no longer slender. He imagined himself to look like a warrior sent straight from the heavens. He grinned at that notion as he began the trek toward the village.
"Now, my child," Neventesia began. "You serve only one. Whom do you serve?" "You, my queen," Daghot replied with a voice that was almost his own, but somehow darker. Smiling, Neventesia slowly turned around and made her way back to her throne. She bade her slave to follow, which he did unquestioningly. "You gave into your temptations willingly, weather you realize it or not," Neventesia started as she sat. "You saw me as I truly am, and still you couldn't stop yourself. None can. Had you given in before seeing the true Neventesia, it would have accomplished only sating my desires for a short time. Willingly, you surrendered your body and soul to me." Daghot didn't care about the how or why of what had happened to him, as long as it happened again. Neventesia knew this as well, but she reveled in her own power. She told Daghot the truth just to show herself the total control she wielded over him.
"I first came to you as a woman of peak physical beauty. Your own willpower caused you to see through the facade quickly, which made me want you and your power as my own that much more. You lasted longer than most, and for that I commend you. It took almost an entire two minutes before you tasted me," Neventesia said through a shrill laugh. "Nevertheless," she continued, "you did taste me, and now you are mine. Was it good?" Daghot nodded excitedly as Neventesia spread her legs and touched herself. "Of course it was. Would you like to partake of me again?" The necromancer nodded furiously as he began to move towards her. "STOP!" Neventesia bellowed the command, which made Daghot's world shake. He dropped to his knees and looked up at her, his eyes pleading. "You will taste me again, my necromancer. But not yet. First you must do as I command." "Anything, my queen," Daghot replied. "I do not doubt that, slave. Your powers as you knew them are no more, as you are no longer loyal to the teachings of Rathma or Trang-Oul. You still remain a conduit of power, however, and your magics are now more powerful than you have ever known. Hell itself is now the supplicant for you."
Neventesia arose and made her way toward the necromancer. "You will go to Denfent, a civilization to the south-west of Tristram. You will put an end to the plague of demons that I sent there just recently and gain the trust of the townsfolk. You already know what you must do. It is in Denfent that my will shall become legion." The succubus walked in a slow circle around Daghot, gently running her erotic fingers under his chin. "I shall obey your will, my queen," the necromancer said while rising. "The people of Denfent will soon be yours to command."
With a wave of Neventesia's hand, a shimmering portal appeared in the midst of the dark chamber. The demon queen looked Daghot up and down and shook her head. "Come now," she giggled, "no true hero of the light will arrive to save the world naked and lacking weapons!" With another wave of her hand, the necromancer found himself wielding a femur bone tipped with a skull that dripped a steady flow of blood from its orifices. He wore a suit of black full-plate armor, with dagger-like bones protruding from it. A black helm was on his head, a red skull superimposed at his forehead. His gauntlets, which were also black and had small bone spikes protruding from the knuckles, crackled with raw energy as he moved his fingers. The pale necromancer grinned approvingly.
"Go now Dagh-," Neventesia began, "No, you will no longer be known as that, necromancer. I shall call you Saradom. You will be the harbinger of my will to the world of mortals. Make them obey! You know what must be done! Now, make it so!" With that, Neventesia sent Saradom through the portal.
Saradom found himself standing in a plush green field. To the south he saw civilization, which he knew must be the land called Denfent. He grabbed the base of his weapon, which was no longer a rod but felt to be the pommel of a sword. He looked down and was almost blinded. His armor was no longer an unholy black plate, but a highly polished silver with the impression of the head of a noble lion upon it. His skin was no longer pale but tanned almost to the shade of the men of the north. He could feel his muscles bulging about as he moved his arms, his body no longer slender. He imagined himself to look like a warrior sent straight from the heavens. He grinned at that notion as he began the trek toward the village.
