Tombs of the Old Ones (fantasy, non-futa, yuri)

Story by Flynnparadox

Okay, here's the start of my new story, set in the same universe as The Far Ruins. It will most likely not be as massive as that novel (novella is a more appropriate name for it) but it expands the fictional universe and adds new characters, who I think you'll like (well, if you liked The Far Ruins, anyway.) I'm sorry, but there won't be any futa action in this one (no "Gifted" around) but there will be in future stories set in this universe. So, enjoy, and let me know what you think.

Tombs of the Old Ones

By Brian Flynn

The Song of Nasha

She came out of the east, her hair a fiery red,

An exile in a world of darkness, her family all dead.

In the west she was a crusader, a hero of Karn.

Many looked down upon her, said she was raised in a barn.

They did not know that she was one of the Endless.

Often she was alone, her only company her own mind.

The commoners of Karn called her names, they were not kind.

She would spend the cold nights alone, without a warm friend.

But when the kingdom was threatened, they came to her in the end.

Nasha wasn’t the Realm’s first hero who was friendless.

But the years went by and change came onto the people.

They built brothels and bars where there had been a church steeple.

Nasha found comfort in this shadowy world of night,

She would take young women to bed, it simply felt right.

Most accepted who she was now though some called her shameless.

Then a great evil came onto the kingdom, threatening all life.

They were hideous progeny of men and goblins, born only to cause strife,

Horrible creatures wanting to remake the Realm anew.

Little was known about them but they called themselves the Ren’U,

Ruled by a dark warlord, fierce and nameless.

Nasha rode forth, to give great Karn her aid.

She looked radiant, her short fire-red hair tied back in a braid.

The enemy caught her, locked her away in the dark.

They say she was rescued by a wolf, small like a dog but with no bark.

Regardless of how she was rescued, she was free and chainless.

The final battle was fought in a vast, mile-high tower.

Six hundred Ren’U fell, they were no match for her power.

Nasha, beaten and bloodied, looked out a high window, above a cloud.

She should have been dead, should have been asleep under a shroud,

But she just laughed a sexy laugh, said it was painless.

After the horrific campaign, she took a lovely wife,

A woman to spend nights with, to share her life.

Their love was passionate, undying, sweet but hard,

Nasha was covered in scars, her back pierced by a battle shard.

Her wife patched her up, said sweetly that she was seamless.

Nasha’s beloved died – an accident – so she disappeared into the north,

Awaiting Karn’s call for help, when she would ride forth.

Many years have passed and Karn has poisoned the soil.

Darkness has crept into the land, beginning to whisper and toil.

Nasha is needed again as evil slumbers, restless and dreamless…

I: The Pursuit

“Haste, my brothers, they can’t be far ahead!” Yar, the head soldier yelled.

Yar was a big man with slightly greying hair who had no time to waste. He led a group of eight men, all of them on horseback. They tore across the dark countryside like their very lives depended on it. Which, of course, they did.

The moon was shrouded by clouds, blanketing the Realm in a deep darkness. The countryside the men traversed was mostly barren with the occasional gnarled, forbidding tree. Somewhere ahead of them was their goal, a small, dangerous group of kidnappers with an important woman in tow. The soldiers were charged to protect this woman and they had failed. Three of them had died when she was taken and the rest were determined to get her back. Coming back home without her was simply not an option, as only the executioner’s axe would be waiting for them.

“We should have waited for reinforcements!” Hyde, Yar’s second, yelled.

Yar chose not to reply as the answer was obvious. There had been no time to call for reinforcements. Besides, there were only five kidnappers. Once the soldiers caught up to them, Yar was confident they would prove no trouble.

Ahead of them, the Black Mountains loomed. The group was getting closer to them and the landscape began to change, becoming rocky. The horses naturally slowed down and the pursuit became a slog.

“Pay attention, men,” Yar said. “They would have been forced to slow down as well. Be ready for anything.”

These were prophetic words. From behind a large rock, a hulking, massive, beast-like man appeared. He wore scant leather armor. His face was a hideous mask of scars. He wielded an immense mace and was already swinging it around as he appeared.

One of Yar’s men went down almost instantly, two of his horse’s legs shattered by the mace. With a surprising quickness, the hulking man brought the mace down again, this time on the fallen soldier’s head. At the sickening crunching sound, three more men appeared, darting out from behind large rocks.

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