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Fate of the Crusade	By : Ovipositivity Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 8328 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft or any of these characters. I make no money from writing this.

Chapter List
- 1-Abbendis's End
- 1
The world was stinging ice.

High General Brigitte Abbendis’s lungs burned. She stumbled through the thigh-deep snow, axe held out in front of her. Faint light still emanated from its head, and Abbendis wondered why. Why did the Light not abandon her? She had abandoned her men when the attack rolled through New Hearthglen.

She hadn’t wanted to, had wanted to stand at the fore, but her faithful bodyguard Dathia had pushed her side. “Go, High General,” the woman had said, her eyes blazing with the passion of the Scarlet Onslaught. “I’ll hold them off. I’ll claim to be you. You must survive! The Onslaught must survive!” There were tears rolling down the woman’s cheeks, but her smile was as bloodthirsty as any Abbendis could remember. Wordlessly, she had nodded, and handed over her chapeau of office. Dathia’s red hair matched her own, and they were not dissimilar in build. It might work.

But why? Why had she fled? It had made sense at the time-- the Onslaught had other bases, and their holy mission couldn’t end here-- but High General Abbendis couldn’t help but think that she had just been afraid to die.

A worm of doubt and self-loathing crept through her guts. Was she just a fraud after all? She had faced death hundreds of times in the Plaguelands of Lordaeron, but those times, the Light had been on her side. No ghoul’s claws could penetrate her steel, and no gargoyle’s stony skin could withstand her axe. She fought with the strength of a hundred and the Crusade fought behind her. Here, in Northrend, they were cut off from their base of support. Against orcish and human foes the blessings of the Light did not make them invincible. Their foes could use the Light as well.

So was this it? The first time she faced a real challenge she turned and fled? Not for the first time, Abbendis considered turning back, but she had absolutely no idea where New Hearthglen was. The storm had blown up almost as soon as she had cleared the perimeter. The sounds of battle were swallowed by the howling wind, and the blaze of burning stables vanished into the endless flurries. Abbendis’s armor was enchanted to provide some warmth and comfort, but it wouldn’t keep her alive if she couldn’t find shelter.

Alive. She was alive. Whatever else she was, she was alive, and where there was life, there was hope. She had to live now, for her fallen comrades. For Dathia and the rest of the brave Onslaught warriors who had given their lives. She had to make it to the Onslaught’s other encampments, rally the troops, and strike back. Otherwise all of those deaths had been for nothing.

Her first priority was finding shelter. She had to get out of this storm or she’d freeze to death. She hadn’t even considered whether her deception had held up. If her enemies knew she yet lived, they might send more killers after her. She would be vulnerable until she could link up with reinforcements. Yes, that was right. Get to cover, get out of the storm, lay low, and in the morning, contact the Onslaught.

As if in answer to her prayers, a dark cave mouth loomed out of the blizzard. It was little more than a cleft in the rock, but it was wide enough for Abbendis, and she gratefully slipped through. Inside it was still bitterly cold, but in the absence of the cutting wind and skeins of frozen flakes she felt her armor warming her up already. The only light came from her axe, and in the guttering glow she examined her surroundings.

The cave opened out after a few feet into a cozy chamber about the size of her quarters back on the Sinner’s Folly. A passageway led deeper into the cave, The floor was barren of stalagmites and, she noticed, of guano. Nothing seemed to live here. The Onslaught had encountered several underground lairs where the wretched minions of the Lich King congregated in wait for prey, but this did not appear to be one of them. Someone had been here before her, though. Faint glyphs were carved into the wall. Curious, she traced them with her finger. They looked like letters, but not from any language she had ever read. They were almost like pictograms, but what they depicted was frustratingly abstract. She followed the line along and marveled at their detail. Was this cave home to the tuskarr? She hadn’t seen the walrus-people’s writing and didn’t know what it looked like. The kvaldir? Those raiders didn’t seem to have the culture for a written language.

Abbendis’s feet carried her deeper in the cave. The howling of the blizzard faded behind her. Her foot splashed, and she looked down. An underground spring was feeding a shallow pool in this room, which sent out trickling fingers of water along a series of narrow channels in the floor. Looking at the water made her realize how thirsty she was. She hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast and had been training all morning… and who knew how long ago the attack had been? It seemed like she had been stumbling through that blizzard for hours. She bent to her knees and cupped her hands in the pool. The water was shockingly cold but crisp and refreshing. She paused, her arms halfway to scooping out another drink. The feeble light of her axe illuminated enough for her to see her own reflection.

It pained her to see herself this haggard and defeated-looking. She squared her jaw and narrowed her eyes. She wanted to see the old Abbendis, and here she was: a shock of bright red hair framing a pale face with high, aristocratic cheekbones and a thin blade of a nose. She had never made her appearance a priority, seeking more to inspire the troops through acts of valor than a chiseled pose, but before dedicating her life to the Light she had had no lack of suitors. She supposed that might be more due to her long, slender legs or her buxom figure, but she had told the armorers forging her suit to tone down those assets. It did not do to distract the foot soldiers of the Crusade. All the same, she knew the rumors that went around. It was part and parcel of the territory. Her lips were full and red and her bosom amply filled up her standard-issue Crusade tabard; there was no way to stop whispering. She had resolved to rise above it and live the example she wanted to set. It had worked, too. She had felt occasional pangs of curiosity, but as much as it would have done for morale, she had never taken a fellow Crusade member into her bed. There had been a man once, long ago… Lynnia’s father. She would not think of him. It was for his memory that she had pledged to annihilate the Lich King’s evil from the world.

After slaking her thirst, Abbendis continued deeper into the cave. She could have told herself that it was to stay out of sight and away from hunting parties, but in truth, it was to find the source of the carvings. She was consumed with curiosity. So focused on the glyphs was she that she failed to notice the traces of spiderweb in the corners, or the broken shards of masonry bearing the sigils of lost Azjol-Nerub. There were many ways into the Lost Kingdom… but precious few ways out.

A distant chittering woke Abbendis from her reverie. A chill ran up her spine and she hefted her axe. How long had she been walking? How deep was she? She glanced left and right, trying to retrace her steps. The cold must have addled her mind; she would never have lost focus otherwise. Another rattling hiss echoed from the darkness, and Abbendis whirled around. She had to calm herself. Had to call upon the Light. She closed her eyes and murmured a mantra, and the light from her axe swelled until it glowed like a torch. There, that was more like it. Now, to--

With a sudden roar, a taloned limb scythed out of the gloom and crashed into her breastplate. Abbendis was thrown across the room, stunned. She crashed into one wall and slid down, but managed to remain on her feet. Looming out of the darkness, a crypt fiend bore down on her, its mouthparts moving frantically. It let out a long, sibilant hiss. Abbendis ducked the next swing, checked a third with her axe, then went on the offensive. She hammered at it with heavy blows. An axe was not a good defensive weapon, but the monster couldn’t hope to block her attacks with just its claws. It tried anyways, and was rewarded with a spray of ichor as the blessed axe passed through its corrupted flesh like cheesecloth.

Squealing in distress it tried to crush her beneath its bulk, but Abbendis’s limbs were full of holy energy and she twirled neatly out of the way. The axe licked out again and severed a limb halfway up its length, making the monster totter. It quickly regained its footing, but the momentary opening in its guard was enough. The smile of the axe bit into the thing’s face, splattering one multi-faceted eye and splitting the skull beneath. The nerubian thrashed as it went into its second death, and Abbendis grimly tugged her axe free and set off at a run. This monster had made enough noise to wake the dead. They would be descending on her at any moment.

Up ahead, spiderwebs filled the corridor. Abbendis hacked at them with her axe. The vile strands disintegrated beneath the holy blade. Dust filled the corridor as the profane webs burned away. Abbendis summoned up a wave of holy power and unleashed it through her free hand, charring the webs she had not managed to hack to bits and burning them to ash. Through the holy fire she came on unscathed. Rounding one more corridor, she set off uphill and--

The cave sudden vanished. She had a moment of sudden vertigo, and then realized she was falling. There must have been a pit or hole in the corridor, one covered with webs, and her holy fire had burned away the bridge. She had time to curse her own arrogance and hotheadedness before something firm and sticky checked her fall. Surprisingly, she wasn’t hurt-- she must not have landed on the floor. Indeed, a cursory examination of her surroundings revealed that she was hanging a few feet off the floor in a massive web. She tried to climb down, but the sticky strands bound her legs in place. Grabbing her axe, she swung at the web-- or tried to. That wrist was bound tightly. The axe itself was tangled in the web a few inches from her hand. Even as she watched, the holy blade burned the strands trapping to the nothing… and fell past her grasping fingers, missing them by inches and clattering on the floor.

She writhed in the web, trying to free herself, but it was no use. Her useless axe lay on the ground a few feet away as if taunting her, but the light it gave off was just enough to illuminate the futility of her efforts. Abbendis eventually gave up. She tried to channel the Light through her body again, but the last effort had exhausted her, and she could not muster the power. Despair filled her heart again, worse than before. Was this what Dathia and the rest had spared her for? To be some nerubian’s corpse-snack?

The web shook. Abbendis frantically looked around, but her head was trapped in place and she could not see what was coming. Something was very close to her, though. A cloud of rotten breath swirled around her head and set off a coughing fit. The stench of undeath was all around her. She closed her eyes and waited for the killing blow to come.

It never did. Instead, she felt a strange pressure on her limbs, and a pincing at her shoulders and waist. Opening her eyes, she looked down.

A swarm of tiny spiders was crawling all over her body. The idea of it filled her with revulsion and she shivered violently, throwing a few of them off. The rest swarmed her, their little mouths chewing. At first she thought she was being eaten alive, but there was no pain. After a moment she realized that they were chewing at her armor. The silk tabard, the leather straps holding the plates on, even her cotton smallclothes. Armor plates fell to the floor one by one, or were carried off into the web by marching swarms of spiders. A crawling fear began to bubble up in Abbendis’s soul. The nerubians never took live prisoners. What were they doing with her?

Soon her armor lay in a pile on the floor, and her clothes hung from her in tatters. Her heavy breasts hung free and gooseprickles covered her limbs and stomach. Bizarrely, she felt compelled to twitch her legs together to protect her modesty. The cold breeze on her twat made her feel terribly exposed. It didn’t matter-- she didn’t even have that much freedom of motion.

The only light source being her fallen axe made her trapped body cast strange shadows on the wall. She couldn’t see what was squatting on the web behind her, but staring at the wall, she could see its shadow. It was a bloated, misshapen thing, a heavy abdomen supported by eight spindly legs. A small head rose from it and swayed back and forth, regarding its prisoner. After some time it appeared to make a decision. The shadow stopped moving-- and then started again.

It was elongating. No, not elongating: something was extruding. Abbendis watched in fascinated horror as the shadow grew a ninth limb, one longer and thinner than the others. Something leathery brushed her leg, and she looked down. This new limb, whatever it was, was passing between her legs as it grew. Sticky mucus coated it and rubbed off on her. The tip was rounded and bulbous, and as the limb grew it curled upward.

Abbendis figured out what it was only as it began to bend towards her. She redoubled her thrashing, knowing that it was helpless. The monstrous nerubian’s ovipositor continued to stretch out of its body and flex towards Abbendis’s exposed pussy like a muscular arm. She tried to rub her thighs together to block its passage, but her limited movements were easily brushed aside by the thing’s rubbery tip. It soon reached the entrance to her pussy and slid between her nether lips. Abbendis bit her lip to keep from screaming.

It was to no avail. She did scream as the thing forced its way inside her. She screamed long and hard as it rippled with peristalsis along its length, pushing deeper. She screamed herself hoarse as it battered aside her inner labia and plunged its leathery, twitching mass inside her helpless cunt. The thing took no notice of her. Abbendis grimaced as she felt her inner walls forced apart by the intruder’s bulk, and still the bulbous head forged its way deeper into her. She groaned as it clubbed aside her feeble resistance. The slimy mucous coated her vaginal entrance as the rough texture of the ovipositor scraped against her battered fuck-tunnel. The uneven size of it pressed against her, and with each inch it shoved its way deeper she felt electrical frissons of pleasure shoot up her spine. It was shameful and unwanted, but there it was. She was trapped in a lightless warren beneath the earth, being turned into a brood mare by an undead monstrosity, and still she could not stop her eager pussy from coating itself in lube.

The tip of the invader reached her cervix and paused a moment. Abbendis had time to take a breath before the tendril inside her pulsed with muscle motion. “AAARRRGGGH!” she let out her breath in a barking yelp as she felt it batter against her deepest and most sacred place. It felt like being punched in the gut. She drew in another ragged breath just in time to expel it in a pained wheeze as the ovipositor struck again. The third time it pushed, and Abbendis felt a moment of awful stretching as her body yielded to its conqueror. The ovipositor thrust into her womb, and Abbendis, totally breathless, could only get out a defeated gurgle of pain. She felt her body deforming, stretching around the intruder. Her belly bulged grotesquely around the thick, rubbery plug now filling up her uterus.

The nerubian did not give her time to recover, but immediately began to send rippling contractions along the tube. Each one rubbed against different parts of Abbendis’s slick love channel, sending waves of bliss blasting through her mind. The horror that was eating her up turned to mist and blew away in the face of the pink clouds of fog now filling her brain. Abbendis’s eyes rolled up into her head and her tongue lolled out of her mouth. A thin strand of drool began to leak out of one corner and down onto her chin.

A bulge made its way down the tube, advancing with each contraction. It was about the size of a fist, and paused at the entrance to Abbendis’s pussy. The tube was forcing her open, but not that far. The egg rested against her battered labia for a moment, as if considering its options, before a massive muscular pulse forced her body open even wider and the egg slid inside. Abbendis let out a “GLLLLLKKK” as she felt the jolt of pain, but even that could not dispel the pleasure filling her. She twitched and shuddered as she came. The feeling of the fat egg rolling deeper into her abused cunny set off a firecracker chain of orgasms that wracked her body. Her fingers curled and uncurled, her toes clenched, and her eyelids fluttered. Meanwhile, the egg arrived at the entrance to her womb. This tiny passage, so recently widened for the ovipositor, was dilated yet again by the powerful muscles of her captor. The only response from Abbendis was another twitch and, perhaps, a low moan of pain. Neither mattered. The egg took its place in her womb, raising a round bump on her belly.

Egg after egg followed the first. Each one was met with the same glassy-eyed stare, the same twitching as Abbendis’s fuck-addled brain was overwhelmed by the sensations coming from her invaded body. Periodically, the creature would pause to shoot a thick, sticky wad of anchoring mucous inside her. Some leaked out around the edges of the ovipositor, slopping and spurting with obscene squishing noises. Abbendis’s belly swelled up as her baby-basked filled with oozing slime and chunky, quivering eggs. First it matched that of a woman six months pregnant, then a woman on the brink of delivery, and still it grew. Far past any natural size, far past what would seem to be the limits of the human body, it grew. The web was weighed down by her bloated stomach when the last egg finally finished its journey. Abbendis’s belly pinned her to the ground. Her limbs jerked feebly and her eyelids twitched as she lay there. Cruelly, ironically, the Light had toughened her body, making her far more resilient than any normal human. It was only through her iron will and unbreakable faith that she had been able to bear so many eggs.

The ovipositor deflated and withdrew. As soon as it ceased to plug her up, Abbendis’s gaping pussy disgorged a flood of semi-translucent slime: a mixture of the creature’s mucous and her own juices. It formed a shallow puddle around her hips and waist. She lacked the energy to roll out of it; as the last few orgasms ripped through her brain, she hung suspended on the brink of consciousness. Her arms tried to wrap around her massive stomach, but they could not meet in the middle. Her last thought before the darkness claimed her was at last, a sister for Lynnia.

The egg-layer considered its handiwork. The Scarlet woman had taken far more eggs than it had expected, but that was all to the good. Ranging on the surface to find victims had become more dangerous of late. It noticed that her cunt still drooped open, its entrance gaping hopelessly wide from the brutal pummeling the ovipositor had delivered. A little patch of web fixed that and ensured that none of the precious cargo would escape. The web holding her would need to be reinforced; it was not designed for a human of this size. Interestingly, the aphrodisiac chemicals present in the egg-laying medium seemed to function exceptionally well on this victim. Perhaps they would help keep her docile. The egg-layer hoped so; with a specimen of this quality, it hoped to perform many, many more implantations before she wore out.
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Fate of the Crusade