****Author's note****

Be advised: This chapter contains content that may be distressing for some. Read at your own discretion with the tags/rating of this story in mind. If you do not want to read such content, a summary of important plot details is available at the end of the chapter.

8

Alaesia grimaced at the sound of scraping along the stone floor of the fortress keep. The noise echoed around her as she carefully cracked her eyes open for the first time since her olog captor had seared her wounds shut. Every inch of her body ached, whether from scarring or laying on the cold, hard floor. Glancing around, there didn't seem to be any sign of her captor. The room was dark, not even a hint of smoldering coals in the direction she thought was the hearth.

Alaesia let out a tense, shallow breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding. She was sure if she had been able to see, her breath would have crystalized in the air. A shiver rippled over her skin, causing her to reach out blindly in the dark. Her numb fingers groped around until they found the hem of a sack cloth. She pulled it in close, wrapping it around her shoulders for the faintest hint of warmth.

It was only then that Alaesia realized she was no longer hung on the pillar by her chains. She took one in her hand and pulled, but only found that it was bolted down. Following the length, she tried to work out what it was attached to by touch alone. As she traced her fingers along the links, she was becoming increasingly aware of the scraping sound that was continuing to grow louder, as though announcing that something was approaching.

When her hands met the texture of soft skin, Alaesia bit her tongue to keep from yelping. Whatever she had touched remained silent and unmoved when she reached out once more. The familiar texture of stitched leather helped form a mental image in her head, and she lifted the object from its resting place. A corked pipe secured into the upper hem of the object confirmed her suspicions, a waterskin! She immediately popped the cork free and lifted the skin to her lips eagerly, only to catch a nose-curling whiff just before the contents spilled into her mouth.

The woman spluttered and swung the skin away, the drink bringing the memories of her unconscious delirium crashing back into her mind. Whatever swill was contained within she could hardly bring herself to drink it, the only benefit it seemed to offer was a burning sensation that drove the ice from her extremities. She could only just choke it down, but it was better than nothing. Her body screamed for her to eat and drink anything she could, even the vile concoction in her hands.

The scraping sound that had awoken her was echoing louder and louder with each passing moment, until Alaesia caught a glimpse of firelight just as it cast soft orange light upon the walls and pillars around her. She tucked herself behind a pillar, only just daring to peek around the edge to see just what had arrived in the doorway of the kitchen.

Standing in the entry, the owl-like uruk overlord strode towards her, almost as though gliding over the floor. Behind him slithered a grotesque goblin, decorated in all manner of dead creatures' carcasses and bones. The goblin's void-like eyes were a stark contrast to the piercing gaze of the overlord.

Alaesia felt a lump of dread forming in her gut as they both came to stand over her; she had never felt such an unsettling air of oppression in anyone's presence quite like this pair. Every hair on her body prickled to stand on end. Chained like she was, there was nowhere the slave could slink away to.

"Stop shaking," Vezhir uttered in a low, disdainful tone as he knelt down before Alaesia, putting him at head height with the goblin-witch as well. The human woman shuttered as Vezhir grabbed her chin and forced her to gaze into the witch's moon-filled eyes. "What say you, dum-shatraug?"

The wretched pair seemed to argue back and forth in black-speech for a moment, before the corner of Vezhir's mouth sneered, revealing sharp fangs.

"Aren't you a lucky one," he mused in Alaesia's language, while closely watching her eyes, wide and terrified as he made her face him directly. "She says you'll be a perfect candidate for my plans, won't you, my ghash-dorozga."

Alaesia felt as though the uruk's fiery eyes were going to overwhelm her; all she could think about was fleeing, but his claws dug deep into her face. "No..o… P…please… Let me go…"

"No, I can't do that. You should feel honored. Breed for me an army of worthy warriors, and I'll let you live." the uruk tsked and glanced towards the witch. With a wave of his clawed hand, Vezhir commanded the goblin woman, "Get on with it!"

Alaesia didn't have time to glance at the witch before Vezhir shoved Alaesia on her back violently. Her head cracked against the stones as Vezhir yanked with one hand the chain by which her hands and neck were bound and tossed aside the sackcloth that had been draped over her body with his other.

She screamed and tried to kick him away, but only received a sharp choking tug on the chain that rattled her skull. Vezhir's clawed hand roved to his own belt and deftly unbuckled it. The light-plated trousers sloughed away from his corded body, and he kicked them aside. Alaesia tried to cry out, but was choked by the collar being pulled taut; Vezhir shoved her legs apart with his own until access was presented to him unfettered.

Through boiling tears Alaesia could see the goblin witch beginning to draw symbols of smoke in the air, and scrape her staff on the ground around Vezhir and his victim. A hollow chant escaped the goblin's lips, not unlike a spell being uttered.

The human woman tried to pull away, but was held fast by the latched claws of her tormentor. Vezhir gripped Alaesia's hips, lifting them for his angle. She felt a horrible, oily heat slide between her legs; never had she felt so vulnerable, even when faced with threats of death. Vezhir slid back and forth outside, rhythmically building his movements, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Alaesia could feel the oil of the uruk's skin on her own and the ooze leaking from his member creeping wherever his thrusts contacted.

Vezhir's grip on the chains shifted and he seized Alaesia's throat. As she moved to push him away, he leaned over the human woman's gaunt form, and latched his pointed maw on her wrist. She could do nothing but cry out as he bit down, piercing into the thin muscle of her forearm. Blood gushed from the wound and into Vezhir's mouth, seemingly only to flare the burning light in his gaze.

Without any further warning, he bucked to position his prize and shoved entirely into Alaesia, ignoring her ear-shattering scream. He thrust and pounded at her with raw animal instinct, and he could feel the friction inside her gripping at him. He was furious to find she was not at all deep enough to take all of him, and he shoved harder to force it further. Alaesia felt as though she were being torn apart as the Uruk stretched her innards to the point she was sure they would split.

The goblin witch had progressively moved around them, chanting and casting strange, devilish charms to the aether. Vezhir's pounding pace seemed to lead the timing of her chant, leaving Alaesia to absorb whatever pains he forced upon her.

He made a final thrust, spearing deep inside her, then shuttered as he flooded her with his hot seed. Alaesia sobbed, wishing she would simply die. When the uruk pulled away, she felt his remnants gush out, and she looked down to find a disgusting ooze mingling with dark red blood. She whimpered and tried to pull away, but the witch pinned her in place by stepping on the chains binding the human slave.

Alaesia couldn't focus, due to the pain that racked her body. Everything around her simply became a droning blur of which she was vaguely aware that the goblin witch was still conducting some sort of rite. She scraped the end of her staff against Alaesia's exposed midriff, leaving trails of bruising on the human's skin from how hard she pressed. While the rite was being finished, the uruk redressed himself in the shadows of the room.

The goblin witch completed her ritual and reported to the uruk overlord reverently, "In a month's time, you'll have your results, my lord."

"Clean that mess up," Vezhir ordered in his cold, unfeeling tone. He calculated briefly, knowing that Ar-Tashk was an efficient killer. If he returned from the campaign to find evidence that his toy had been tampered with, the olog was sure to be enraged. "Make sure you keep the ghash-dorozga alive and whole until then. We'll see just how well your majick works, dum-shatraug."

Ar-Tashk would be none the wiser, as the big, dumb animal that he was. Vezhir noted the grog-filled waterskin, carelessly spilled across the kitchen floor and added, "Get proper rations too. If the ghash-dorozga starves to death or your majick fails, it will be your head. So heed my warning, witch."

Then he left without so much as giving his victim a second, backward glance.

****Summary To Skip Explicit Sequence****

Vezhir, the uruk Overlord, confers with the dum-shatraug (fate witch) about his scheme to build an army. He wants to put her magic to the test. To do so, he has her perform a ritual on Alaesia, which includes him violating the human. The dum-shatraug claims that the ritual will produce results in one month's time.

****Translations****

Dum-shatraug - fate witch

Ghash-Dorozga - Test subject

Majick - A mispronunciation of magic