The Nest of the Necromancer

**The First Puffer and Lace Adventure**

Chapter Five: The Heroes of the Rolling Hills

They didn't try to kill Lace after all. Instead they held her down and as with the skeletons at Rolling Hills Cemetery, they clawed at her armor until it was shredded off of her body and she was entirely naked. Long red welts from where the claws had dug too far criss-crossed her flesh. Blood trickled out of her broken nose, which the headless dead farmer had pummelled with his fist until she'd stopped moving. Her helmet was discarded now and as ruined as the rest of her armor.

Her body was scarred, bruised, and bloody. Her right eye was swollen and her nose was bleeding. She had a cut lip and was so exhausted she could barely move. For a brief moment she even lost consciousness. Now she was just entirely spent.

She had no energy, no strength left to fight. It angered her, being this helpless, but it wasn't the type of anger that made her see red. All of the adrenaline had seeped out of her blood leaving her entirely drained. After a long rage she needed rest, good rest, to recover but she wasn't getting that any time soon.

*I'm sorry, Puffer,* she thought miserably. Wherever the half-elf was Lace doubted she'd faired much better. Had she been taken? Was she already a walking corpse? Or had she seen the tide of skeletons and run away like a coward?

Lace hoped it was the last. It wouldn't even bother her. It wouldn't even make her angry. Because whatever the case, Lace couldn't help her now and she was desperate to believe she didn't need to, desperate to believe that she'd found the horses and run off somewhere to live a nice ordinary, simple life.

Four orcish skeletons carried her through the woods with the headless body of the dead farmer leading the way. Soon they reached the shack Jericho had described. It was an overgrown one story dwelling with boarded up windows covered with vines and the forest encroaching on its space. In the dark of night, with Inkis shining down its dreadful glare, it was about as sinister a sight as any Lace had ever seen.

As they approached it, the front door swung open. They put her down on her feet, then, and the headless corpse of Edward stood behind her, the four skeletons taking up positions around her. The two with weapons, wicked looking old orcish sabers, flanked the corpse behind her. The other two, one with a stringless and broken bow and the other entirely unarmed, propped her up and led the way. Edward put his hand on the back of her neck and pushed.

She was led like this across the threshold and to a trap door in the floor inside the front room of the small dwelling. One of the skeletons swung it open and Lace could see rotted wooden steps leading down into the murky gloom.

The steps went down about fifteen feet.

Though what she needed was rest, Lace was trying hard to gather up her strength anyway. From experiences she knew it was useless. After such a rage as the one she'd just had she would need at least a couple of hours before she'd be strong again. But she was desperate to tap into that strength, desperate to find it before reaching Hieronymus. Once she was in the presence of the necromancer who knew what sorts of foul magics he could employ to complete her subjugation?

Suddenly she heard a familiar voice: "Stop, stop, stop!". Another voice, too low to hear, followed. And then: "No, please stop!"

The sound of Puffer's plaintive pleas made Lace's eyes twitch and, for the briefest of seconds, she saw a flash of red.

***

"I'll use my mouth!"

Puffer didn't know where the idea came from. But just as she felt the necromancer's nasty cock touch the folds of her sex she blurted it out, despite the fact there was a knife at her throat.

She was surprised by his reaction.

He stopped. "Your mouth, deary?" he murmured. He stared down into her damp eyes. "Hmm. It has been a long time since I've felt a warm mouth. Hmm, yes. Yes... a very long time since I've bothered with a mouth at all. My lovelies can lay there fine, it's what they're great at but using their mouths? Hmm. No, never."

Relief flooded Puffer's body as the man crawled off of the earthen mound and gently pushed Amelia away from her, her knife removed from Puffer's skin.

His sad cock was out, a thing maybe four inches in length and pale white and skinny. Calling it erect would be flattering, Puffer thought. It was semi hard only and the girl suspected that was about as erect as it ever got.

The vines around her thighs snaked up higher. She thought they were getting dangerously close to her pussy but they stopped short, reaching only high enough to pull her thighs together. Along with the ones around her wrists her small body was lifted off the mound. Soon she was on the ground in front of the necromancer, maneuvered onto her knees, the vines holding her immobile there.

"Go on then, deary," Hieronymous purred. "Show me what I've been missing, hmm?"

Gods but Puffer was repelled by his scent. His scent, this position, his cock. Everything about this was wrong but, despite her unrequited arousal from earlier, she preferred this over being fucked. It wouldn't make her cum but that was a good thing... maybe not for her greedy body but for her sanity. Besides, if she did a good job he might decide to keep her "warm" awhile longer. The thought of going into the ground, of being dropped into that cold grave, filled her with terror.

The earthen mound was right next to her. Imagining all that dirt being piled up on top of her dead or dying body was just... no. She had to do a good job.

The half-elf whetted her lips and looked up at the man. He'd pulled his hood down lower so even from this position she couldn't see his eyes. But he was smiling, that was for sure. And when he placed one cold hand on the back of her head she obligingly moved her head forward, opening her mouth as she did, a look of disgust on her pretty face.

His cock felt like a cold, thick noodle in her mouth: more floppy than rigid. It tasted of sweat and mire, but she managed to keep herself from gagging. At least she didn't have to worry about gagging on its size.

It'd been well over a year since she'd done this for a man but she'd never found it to be too complicated. She wrapped her lips around the pale thing, ran her long, warm tongue around it, then pressed her head forward until her nose was buried in his crinkly gray pubic hair. With it fully in her mouth she felt it harden, a little anyway, and she knew she was doing a good job. Especially when he sighed and said, "Ahh, deary, yes... look up at me... yes, such pretty eyes..."

Puffer kept her big green eyes locked on his shadowy face as she sucked his cock. Back and forth she bobbed her head, running her tongue along its underside, feeling it harden even more under her ministrations. When the man began to pant and moan she knew she was getting close to finishing and hoped that he wouldn't finish inside her mouth.

Just then the door to the room opened. Puffer was in profile to the doorway and as she darted her eyes over to see what was happening she saw a group of large skeletons pushing the restrained form of Lace into the room. One kicked her behind her knees, dropping her to the ground, and they held her there in that position.

She was naked. Even in this murky darkness, even with red welts criss-crossing her magnificent breasts, even with the muck and blood splattered over her, Lace was absolutely gorgeous. For a long moment Puffer forgot everything else and just stared at her friend as best she could.

"PUFFER!"

Lace's cry snapped her out of her reverie. Suddenly shocked and embarrassed to be seen like this, the half-elf tried to pull away from the necromancer. But the hand on the back of her head held fast, keeping her in place, his cock still in her mouth. She felt it harden a little more.

"Oh what perfect timing!" Hieronymous said with glee. "The big barbarian, here to rescue her best friend." He chuckled, then sighed, his cock throbbing inside Puffer's mouth. "Did you know she offered to do this, barbarian? This little slut you call a friend offered to suck my cock, did you know that, deary?"

She hadn't thought it possible but suddenly Puffer was more ashamed than ever. While out of context, what he was saying was true. She wanted to yell out that no, she'd only offered to suck him off to keep him from fucking her! Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at Lace, pleading with her big greens, willing Lace to understand.

Just then the necromancer groaned. He gripped her head in both hands and suddenly she felt her mouth fill with gooey, salty cum as his mostly erect penis shot its load. If anything the shame she felt doubled and she kept staring at her friend, their eyes locking, and all she wanted in all the world was to be next to her so that she could explain, so that she could let her know she didn't want to do this, to...

Then something happened and there was a flash.

***

"I'll use my mouth!"

When Lace heard her friend cry out those words red flashed before her again. She felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest. It was impossible to see anything in this gloom but there was the faintest of lights coming from somewhere in the same direction as Puffer's plaintive voice.

The headless body of the farmer let go of her neck and walked around to face her, as if sensing Lace's gathering strength. Without ceremony he laid into her, dropping a strong close-fisted punch square across her jaw. Lace saw stars as she wondered how the fucking thing could even see. Her muscles relaxed then, and she tasted blood and felt her vision swimming.

She dropped to her knees and they let her fall. Then two of the skeletons picked her up, holding her between them. The two with weapons stayed close behind, with the corpse now leading the way as they dragged her down the dark hall.

Lace's vision was beginning to clear when they reached the door. But when the corpse opened the door and stepped inside, she thought she was hallucinating.

There was Puffer, on her knees before a dark robed man. She was wrapped in something like vines and it looked like she was...

"Oh what perfect timing!" the man she guessed had to be Hieronymus was saying. And he was saying something else too with a gravelly yet high-pitched voice, something about Puffer offering to do this, to suck him off, Lace realized, because that's what was happening. Little Puffer on her knees, kneeling there, a pale cock in her pretty mouth. It was impossible. It was obscene.

And she could see Puffer's pretty eyes, staring at her, pleading. Lace's right eye was nearly swollen shut but she could see well enough with her left, could see the pain and hurt and humiliation in Puffer's teary green eyes. And it filled her with rage.

Rage. For the first time in her life she was feeling a rage come on while in such a sorry, exhausted state. She embraced it, willed it to overcome her. Focused her good eye on poor Puffer, on her degradation at the hands of this pervert. Her vision began to turn red, against all odds, and she felt her muscles tightening.

And then the man was groaning and Lace knew what he was doing to her helpless friend. Filling her mouth with his nasty seed. The red she saw was turning a shade of crimson and skeletons brought their weapons closer to her, sensing her oncoming storm.

But then something else happened. Something new and strange. There was a sort of loud "puff" sound, like smoke being exhaled by a giant, and all of a sudden there was Puffer, kneeling directly in front of her. Entirely nude without a vine on her body and only a little bit of cum dribbling down her chin.

Silence filled the room. Shock. What had just happened? In that silence there was confusion. And with that confusion, it was Lace's turn to act.

***

Puffer didn't know what happened. One moment Hieronymus was pumping her mouth full of his disgusting cum and the next she was kneeling in front of Lace, mouth wide open, cum dripping from it. She smelled pine needles and fresh summer air for a moment before the decay set back in and she felt somewhat disoriented. But the vines were gone, the cock in her mouth was gone, and she was free. She stared up at her friend, who was being held kneeling between two skeletons. Their eyes locked. Puffer's face burned red.

And so did Lace's. But when Lace's face turned red it wasn't from blushing. It wasn't from shame or embarrassment. It was from rage. Puffer knew what was happening and knew what would happen next.

Without a thought she tumbled away, rolling to her left to give the barbarian room. She heard Lace growl and cry out with such vehement anger as she'd never heard before in her young life. When she looked over she saw Lace gripping the ribcage of one of the giant skeletons and literally tearing its ribs out one by one, all in a flash, so quickly that the skeleton seemed to disintegrate.

Puffer scrambled to her feet, panicked, trying to figure out what to do. She absentmindedly swallowed and tasted the Necromancer's gooey cum, but refused to let its nastiness distract her. She had to find a way to help. Glancing around the small room she saw on a shelf behind the burial mound something very useful indeed.

It was her crossbow. And her shortbow, and her daggers. But between her and it was Hieronymus, his three 'lovelies', and an open grave. She needed a plan.

But then Hieronymus was crying out something and pointing his finger at her. Two of the girls, Caitlin and Jonesy, moved at her, claws out, heads no longer held up or looking fresh.

Puffer was naked. Defenseless. She backed up, wishing there was something, anything she could use for a weapon. All she found was a cloak hanging from a peg in the dirt wall, which she grabbed. Despite the dire circumstances her embarrassment at being nude was too much. She threw on the cloak as she danced away from the oncoming corpses.

***

Lace was lifted off her feet by one of the unarmed skeletons, and she grinned as he did so. It got her close enough to his skull for her to reach out, grab it, and squeeze.

The necrotic light shining in that skull's eyes seemed to pulse. Lace gritted her teeth and squeezed her hands together tighter, tighter, and she cried out in rage and suddenly the skull exploded. She was dropped, landing on her feet. A blade came swinging down at her and she spun to one side, dodging it, then grabbed the boney arm of the skeleton and wrenched it back with a twist of tremendous strength. The arm came off and suddenly she had a saber of her own.

Hieronymus was yelling something and Lace saw that two of the missing corpses, likely Jonesy and Caitlin, were moving off to deal with Puffer who, inexplicably, was wearing a cloak now. It amused Lace that even at a time like this she was embarrassed to be naked in front of others. She needn't be, the barbarian thought as she crashed her saber down into the skull of the other armed skeleton. While she beat on him she reflected that Puffer actually had a very fine body. Petite, to be sure, with that seeming fragility common in elves, but just as mature and lovely as any woman Lace had ever met.

The fourth skeleton collapsed before her, now, and the headless corpse of the big farmer was her sole remaining opponent. She gripped her sword and took a careful step back from it, choosing not to underestimate it. The corpse bull-rushed her and gave her the opening she needed. Stepping aside she spun around and brought the sword up in a swinging arc that connected with its right knee, severing its leg there.

"TRY GETTING UP NOW!" she growled in pure rage, laughing as she cut off the corpse's other leg off at the knee, too. Spinning around she saw that the two corpses of the girls were closing in on Puffer, who was unarmed and desperate looking. Lace made to step in their direction when she felt a hand around her ankle.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" she roared, swinging down at the hand of the farmer's corpse, severing it at the wrist. Then she swung down again, and again, and again, taking off its arm, then the other one, hacking the fucking thing to pieces once and for all.

That's when she saw the glowing light. The unmistakable garish green light skeletal eyes made coming from down the hall. How many were coming? Only four had come into the house and they were all dust now. How many more had there been? How many more were rising even now, descending on the house?

Her heart sank. Images of being buried under a mound of skeletons flashed before her, memories of having her armor torn apart not once but twice in the last three days came rushing back.

Stepping back she got ready to hack at the first one to reach the door. "PUFFER!" she cried out. "Is there another way outta here?!"

Suddenly there was a skeleton in the doorframe, and she hacked at it, and it went down. Then there was another and she did the same. And as she roared she destroyed two more. But her energy was slipping, her rage ebbing, and still they came on. Finally two rushed in at the same time and she knew she'd only get at one in time. She slashed at it as the second lunged at her...

...and a bolt came flying and sank into the skull's forehead. A silver bolt. The thing collapsed.

***

Puffer danced this way and that, barely avoiding Caitlin, then barely avoiding Jonesy, then back again. Behind them, still at the burial mound, was Hieronymus and Amelia, keeping their distance.

She knew she couldn't keep this up. One of the girls was bound to grab her before long and there was no way she could possibly reach her weapons. She stared at them mournfully: so close and yet so far! Once again she slipped between the two corpses only to spin away and back again to avoid getting too close to Amelia who was guarding Hieronymus with her nasty looking knife.

The half-elf didn't know what to do.

Then the necromancer was using that dark, ethereal voice he'd used earlier, and Puffer knew that didn't bode well. She had to shut him up, but how?

She managed to slip through Caitlin and Jonesy's grasping hands again, barely, determined this time to reach her weapons. She got close to the burial mound, spun away from Amelia, then felt the dirt beneath her start to give. She cried out and scrambled back from the edge of the grave, having almost fallen into it, and rolled away from Amelia, all the way back to where she had started. Meanwhile the necromancer was intoning his vile sounding incantations, incantations that likely spelled her and Lace's doom.

Puffer was exhausted by now but the corpses were moving as quickly as ever. Once again she stared mournfully at her weapons across the room. It was impossible. She'd never get by all three of the corpses. And then, with a *puff*, she was there.

She was right there at the shelf, naked once more, her cloak gone. Disoriented the girl looked around: she was behind the corpses now, their backs to her. She saw that Lace was hard pressed at the door, destroying skeleton after skeleton trying to enter the room.

How she'd managed to travel that distance so quickly would have to wait. Puffer grabbed her light crossbow and was overjoyed to see her quiver full of silver and mundane bolts, both. She loaded up a silver one, turned toward the door, and just in time: two had slipped into the room and Lace was focusing on the one as the other went to claw at her and *twang*, Puffer shot, and her bolt hit, and the skeleton dropped.

Before loading another bolt she grabbed a dagger and flung it at the back of the necromancer. He cried out as the blade struck true and Puffer let out a whoop of joy.

She loaded another bolt and fired, taking down another skeleton, and buying Lace a much needed reprieve. Then she loaded yet another, and another, and skeleton after skeleton went down...

...and then the three girls, who'd she'd all but forgotten about, were surrounding her.

Oops, she thought.

***

Lace was laughing. She had no idea how Puffer had reached her weapons but she would never doubt the grace and agility of an elf ever again. She crashed her rusted blade into another skeleton as a second fell, then again, and again. Two would come rushing through and one would go down by one of Puffer's silver bolts and the second with her own rusty saber.

It was a thing of beauty. Bones were piling up around her, ankle deep now, rolling across the dirt ground. As she moved she crunched through them, chopping and laughing and sending these monstrosities back to where they'd come.

But this couldn't go on forever. Lace realized she had to deal with the source.

Looking over her shoulder she was surprised to see one of the girl corpses pulling a dagger out of the necromancer's back. The man then slumped to his knees. Had the corpse just stabbed him? No, she was helping him back up. Lace spun back to face yet another skeleton as she realized where the dagger had come from. She hoped that Puffer had a plan to finish the job.

***

Puffer jumped and rolled and shot all in one fluid motion. Despite her current danger she had to keep helping Lace or else the barbarian would be overwhelmed. But that left the girls free to continue encircling her.

It was only a matter of time before one of two things happened: Lace was overwhelmed and then the tide of skeletons would pour in and take care of Puffer, too. Or the girls would finally grab Puffer and bring her down and likely kill her, leaving Lace alone and overrun.

She'd had the right idea throwing the dagger at Hieronymus, she thought. It was the only way to end this: to kill him. With him dead his spells would die with him... Puffer hoped.

The half-elf leaped into the air and fired once more at the door, taking out another skeleton, buying Lace some time. Then she fell into a roll, barely made it between Caitlin and Amelia without being touched, and sprang to her feet. She loaded a mundane bolt as she did, took aim, and fired.

The necromancer cried out in pain. Her bolt had hit him square in the chest.

And then the tension in the room snapped and everything went quiet.

***

Just as its claws were about to sink into her flesh the creature in the doorway collapsed into a pile of bones. Lace ignored it, panting, readying her blade for another one of the skeletons. But none came.

Cautiously the barbarian got closer to the door and slowly peeked her head around it. The hallway was full of skeletons and she looked just in time to see that last few collapse. Only brittle orcish bones filled the hallway now.

*Puffer!* she thought. Spinning around she took two long steps back into the room and found only silence. Silence save for Puffer's panting breaths. The half-elf was naked again, a quiver with only two remaining bolts over one shoulder, her light crossbow held in her hands.

Despite everything Lace couldn't help but soak in the young woman's beauty. Her bright red hair, sparkling green eyes, perfectly formed breasts...

"Puffer," she said, her rage suddenly gone. The woman dropped to her knees, exhausted beyond measure.

"He's gone," she heard Puffer say. "I don't know... I hit him, right in the chest, and he just... he's gone!"

***

Puffer found the necromancer's bedchamber and it was just as repulsive as the burial room had been. Dirty, muddy, full of rotting wooden furniture and bookshelves full of old scrolls and none too few books. But she also found there full water-skins and some bread, wine, and cheese, which she brought to Lace.

More than anything both of them wanted to leave this vile place right away, but Puffer Lace needed rest. Rest and some nourishment. So preoccupied with taking care of her friend was Puffer that she had forgotten she was entirely naked. Until, that is, she caught Lace staring at her with her one good eye.

She blushed. Rushing around the room in a panic she found the cloak she'd been wearing earlier and wrapped it tightly around herself.

"No... fair...," Lace said, sounding a thousand miles away. "Why do you... get... clothes...?"

And then she started snoring.

*****

"It has to be my elven blood," Puffer said, her voice muffled slightly as she shoved another bundle into the saddlebag.

She was packing away the darker findings from the necromancer's nest: dark scrolls, necrotic grimoires, and, wrapped tightly in a tar-coated sack, the heavy, severed head of Edward the Big Farmer. This was all to be used as evidence to prove they'd done what they'd promised and defeated the necromancer. In lieu of his body, they hoped it'd be enough to exonerate themselves for the death of Edward.

They'd also unearthed a substantial chest of gold, though none of that was going to the sheriff. After a short debate, the two had agreed to split the haul five ways: two shares for themselves, and three for the grieving families of the village girls.

Hours had slipped by since the chaos subsided. Hieronymus was gone, Lace had finally caught a few hours of hard-earned sleep, and Puffer had spent the downtime trying to make sense of her newfound power.

A few feet away, Lace was busy securing the wagon tongue to Quake's heavy harness. They'd found a sturdy haybale wagon parked behind the hovel, perfect for bringing the three peasant girls' corpses back to the village for proper burial.

Lace paused, pulling a leather strap tight, and grunted. "Didn't know elves could just blink away like that. Disappear here, pop back up over there."

She glanced over her shoulder at her partner. They'd both raided the necromancer's private chambers for clean clothes, settling on a pair of thick dark robes. Puffer's was hilariously oversized, swathing her petite frame in folds of heavy cloth. Yet somehow the agile half-elf moved through the forest without tripping once.

"My mother... before she passed, she used to tell me stories," Puffer said softly, adjusting her sleeves. "About her father having certain... rare gifts." She gave a light shrug. "I guess one of them finally decided to wake up."

Lace gave a single, firm nod. "Well, it's handy, I'll give ya that. Just don't make a habit of hopping around like that every time we get into a scrape. If ya hop too far off, how am I supposed to protect ya?"

"First of all," Puffer said, holding up a finger, "it seems I can't take anything with me when I teleport. No weapons, no gear... not even clothes." She flashed a cheeky smile. "And second of all, who saved who back there? Hmm?"

The morning sun had crested the treeline, bathing the woods in a warm, golden light. The sky was a pale, clear blue, and the crisp scent of pine and damp earth was already washing away the lingering stench of rot that had choked the necromancer's lair.

Lace snorted. "Sure, you landed the shot on the necromancer. I'll grant ya that. But who kept the pile of skeletons off your back? Hmm?"

Puffer offered only a knowing smile in response.

"Besides," Lace grumbled, tugging at Quake's reins, "the bastard got away."

"Still not sure how he pulled that off," Puffer admitted, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Then her face softened into a bright, mischievous grin. "But don't go trying to ruin the mood, Lace! We just survived the adventure of a lifetime, broke an evil spell, and saved the Rolling Hills! Isn't that wonderful?"

Lace forced her lips into a flat line to keep from scowling. After everything Puffer had endured over the last day, she'd earned the right to be cheerful if she wanted to be. Still, for the hundredth time, Lace marveled at the half-elf's boundless light. The girl had just been put through hell by an evil bastard, yet here she was: smiling, whistling, and looking forward to tomorrow. It defied logic.

As Lace finished double-checking the harness, a lingering thought took hold. For as long as they'd traveled together, she'd viewed Puffer's sunniness as naivety, a lack of worldly experience. But what if she'd had it backwards all along? What if Puffer's hope was a choice, and it was Lace who was being blind, constantly searching for deprivations and cruelty in every corner of the world?

"What's that tune you're whistlin'?" Lace asked, breaking the silence. "It's... pretty."

Puffer paused her packing and shrugged. "Dunno! Just something happy. Happy and triumphant!"

She turned, closing her eyes as she lifted her face toward the morning sun, inhaling the fresh forest air. Lace found herself watching her. She noticed the subtle swell of Puffer's chest, the delicate strain of the tendons in her neck, and the slight twitch of her pert nose as she breathed in. For the first time, Lace caught sight of a light dusting of pale freckles across the girl's nose and cheeks, and an odd thought suddenly flashed through the barbarian's mind: *I wonder what those taste like.*

Lace snapped her head away, her face burning. *What in the hells am I thinking?* she scolded herself. *Get a grip.*

Yet there was no denying it: ever since seeing Puffer naked, she looked at her differently. Right now, Lace wanted nothing more than to walk over, wrap her thick arms around her, and hold her tight. But a sudden, unfamiliar awkwardness held her back. They were partners. Friends. Just friends.

*Besides,* Lace reasoned internally, *she doesn't like girls that way. And neither do I. Gimme a big man with a clean cock any day.*

"Alright, time's wasting!" Puffer declared, gathering Bright Eyes' reins and springing smoothly into her saddle. "There are bards out there itching to sing our tale, but first they've got to hear it!"

Lace rolled her eyes, but a genuine smile crept onto her lips anyway. She swung her massive frame up into Quake's saddle and looked over at her partner.

"Right," Lace said, clicking her tongue to start the horses moving. "*The Tale of Puffer and Lace, Heroes of the Rolling Hills.* I'm sure it'll make one hell of a ballad."

**THE END**