Chapter 37 - Exorcism of Pride

New Quest: Betrayer’s Due Bylres Hardbottle was betrayed by her comrades in the adventuring party Moradin’s Hammer, and left to be enslaved by the demon Neozhur and his pawn, Jynerra. She now asks your aid in gaining her revenge.
Rank	A
Success	Find the former members of Moradin’s Hammer, and return to Bylres with the information. Capture and/or kill the former members of Moradin’s Hammer. And return either prisoners or proof of death to Bylres.
Failure	You do not find the adventurers. You do not capture or kill the adventurers. You do not return with proof of death or prisoners. Give up the quest.
Rewards	Unknown Increased Reputation with Brudrinen Empire Increased Reputation with Hardbottle Clan
Consequences	Decreased Reputation with Hardbottle Clan

I looked at the quest, and then sighed, nodding. “I will do what I can, but if your companions are anywhere near your level, it will be quite some time before I would be able to subdue them on my own.”

Bylres nodded. “That is fine. After this, I won’t be able to venture freely to hunt them myself. By the time I gather materials for my new weapons and armor, and purify myself from what I’ve experienced here, you may well be of a level to assist me. You adventurers advance quickly, after all, due to not fearing death.”

“Well, it isn’t that we don’t fear death, but that death has no permanent effect upon us. No one seeks death, but knowing that it is not the end can allow one to face it with a clear heart.”

The dwarf nodded. “Well said indeed.”

We lapsed into silence as I continued my play with Wench, using the Tamer’s Whip on Wench’s naked body. Because the whip healed most of the damage it dealt on each strike, I could use it on her repeatedly, whipping the demon’s naked body as much as I wished. The pain was real, though, and because of my orders, Wench couldn’t move from the pose I’d put her in, with her legs apart and her hands on top of her head.

“You know, Wench, there is a way to end this. Just beg to satisfy me, and the whipping will end. And you will get to try and earn your name again. Or maybe I’ll just march you into town naked. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

(Later)

According to the game clock, it has been twenty-three hours since I started the humiliations I’ve piled upon Wench in order to fulfill the conditions for the ritual that will turn her back into an elf. In that time, she’s been stripped, un-named, had items inserted in various parts of her body, whipped, insulted, and forced to pleasure some of my girls, in increasingly more humiliating acts. She even got to spend some time as a toilet. And all the time, I told her that if she just begged to satisfy me, things would get better.

Finally, she broke down. Oh, the fact that I hadn’t fed her or given her anything to drink while everyone else (even the fake princess) got some probably had an effect as well. With eyes that were full of shame and rage, she looked at me, and said, “Master.” She still hated calling me that. “M-may I please you?”

“Beg for it.”

She gritted her teeth, and then said, “Please master, let me pleasure you, I beg of you!”

“Good Wench. You can start by sucking me off. Do a good job, and I’ll let you move on. But you do badly, and I’ll sell you to a brothel when we get back.” OK, so that was a lie. I wasn’t actually going to sell her, but she didn’t need to know that.

On her knees in front of me, she pulled out my cock, and I smiled when her eyes went wide at the sight. She might have gotten glimpses earlier, when we were back on Jynerra’s floor, but now it was out in the open, and in her face. Wench gulped, and then reached out and began with licking up and down my length, trying to get some lubrication on there, anything to make it easier on herself later.

Reaching down, I placed my hand on her head, and said, “Take it in your mouth now, Wench. I want your chin to hit my balls.” That brought a look of fear into her eyes, but she did as she was told, opening her lips to take the head of my cock into her mouth. And then slowly, she began dipping her head up and down on my rod, trying her best to go further each time. There were tears in her eyes as she finally managed it, and then I pulled her off before she choked to death.

She fell back, her eyes dazed, though she had done a good job of lubing my shaft. I looked down at her, and said, “That was merely decent. Beg for it. Face down, ass up, and beg for it like a slut.”

I’m pretty sure she was still halfway out of it, as she looked shellshocked, but she rolled over onto her hands and knees, and put her face in the dirt, her rear raised up, presenting herself to me. “Please Master, fuck your slut!”

And who was I to refuse a request like that?

(Later)

Twenty-four hours of humiliation and stripping her of her pride. Now Wench lay there, still on her hands and knees with my seed trailing from both her holes. She was thoroughly senseless at this point, as I’d not been gentle (though Della did make sure she stayed alive). Now, I needed to conduct the ritual.

In the ground, I drew the pattern her notes prescribed, a pentagram inscribed in a circle, with her in the middle. I began chanting in the tongue of demons. It was a condemnation of one for betrayal to their ‘blessing’, and a call to the powers to remove the blessing now. Fire rose up from the circle, but I could see that these were phantom flames. They did not cause damage to flesh, and even the ground remained unburnt. But they would burn the soul. Wench was screaming as the flames torched her soul, searing away the changes wrought by making her a Pride Demon.

It takes a damn hour of chanting and using my mana to fuel the phantom flames to burn the demonic taint out of Wench’s body and soul, but finally the ritual is over. I can’t help but think that there may have been an easier way to go about it, but then, this ritual was devised by a demon as a punishment for traitors, not as a merciful way to remove demonic taint from someone. So she really has only herself to blame.

As the phantom flames died, I said, “Very well, Wench. Now you may have your name, Nithroel Crana, back again.

Nithroel Crana Half-Celestial Elf Female Level 30 Blackguard / Priest Titles: Genius, Fallen One, Slave, Broken One, Masochist

So, with the loss of being a Pride Demon (and becoming a slave), she lost the ‘Proud One’ and ‘Knight’ titles, and it seems she got some new titles.

Genius Some people are smart. One holding this title is almost always the smartest person in the room. But know that there is a difference between intelligence and wisdom. +20 INT +2 INT per Level Fallen One One who was once a paragon of virtue and nobleness has been corrupted by evil. +400 Infamy -200 Fame Slave Slaves have no rights, but what their master gives them. You are not a person, you are property. Loss of all Fame/Infamy. Social status becomes Slave. Broken One Humiliations and Tortures have cause you to break. You can try to piece yourself back together, but you will always be easier to break than one who has yet to be broken. Still, there are some who prefer imperfections in their prizes. -25% resistance to Charm effects. -25% resistance to Interrogation. -25% resistance to Seduction. +20 CHA Masochist Pain is pleasure and pleasure is pain. Gain Hurts So Good Quality.

Interesting. So Qualities could be gained through in-game actions? I’d have to check the forums, and see if any other Qualities-as-Titles had been discovered.

As I dressed, I came to a decision. Since everyone other than my party would be walking, it didn’t make sense to make the trek back. I could use the Dark Portal spell to open a portal for us back to Mylenoris, but the dark shrine there was underground, which would prove an issue for the horses. Not insurmountable, since the stairs were plenty wide enough, but it would be an inconvenience for everyone.

Fortunately, the sisters had a solution, it seemed. Even though she was an Earth Sorceress, Duru had picked up the spell ‘Recall’ which could teleport a group to the last city or town the caster visited. It was a useful, if somewhat limited, spell, since it would allow people to return from dungeons or far afield in an instant, but was always restricted to the last city or town you’d visited, so it couldn’t be easily used as a means of transport.

With that decided, we gathered all the people and animals together, and activated the spell. With a flash of light, we were gone.

(Elsewhere)

It was quite a site that greeted the eyes of the guards standing watch at the gates of Mylenoris that morning. At least thirty riders approached the gates. All were clearly adventurers girded with weapons and armor for long travels in the wilds. But what was strange wasn’t their raiment, but the makeup of the company. Men and women. Elves, humans, dwarves, and even an undead! There were other monsters amongst their number, too: a Medusa with her eyes covered by a cloth, a pair of harpies flying alongside a baby dragon, and several elementals also moved in and through the strange procession.

As one, the warrior band (for there could really be no other way to describe such a company) halted before the gates. The guards, gripped their sword hilts as a woman advanced from the rest of the group. She was a Dark Elf, with ebony skin and long white hair. She was quite shapely, as was normal for elves, but the armor she wore was that of a ranger from the surface, and she had a pair of scimitars hanging from her belt, with a hunting bow strapped to her back.

She paused when she was a few feet from the guards, and said, in a clear voice, “Hail! I am Lexichan do’Urden, and I lead this company for the moment. We wish to enter the city.”

The guard captain, seeing that this wasn’t immediately going to result in violence, said, “And what business does a Dark Elf have in Mylenoris, surrounded by such a varied and warlike company? We don’t often see your lot around here.” The way he almost spat out ‘your lot’, like it was a bitter tasting root, left no doubt about the tensions between the surface elves and their dark kin.

But Lexichan was not disturbed by this. “We are Travelers from another world. The man who led us in that other world has come to these lands, and we seek to join him once again. Behind me are forty-one warriors who once pledged ourselves to our leader, and we have ridden far to join him.”

“And who is this ‘leader’ of yours?”

Lexichan chuckled, and said, “He is known by many names, but here you would know him best as Zayn Darkmore, Knight of the Realm, and the one who escorted the Princesses Aravae and Esyae to safety when they had been waylaid by cultists in foreign lands. He was our leader in the other world, and now we have come to follow him again.”

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