Emperor Night: A New World (NTR)

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Jonathan was in pain. A lot of pain. The back of his head pulsed that he hadn't felt since the first time he went out drinking during university orientation. It sucked. However, pain was good, pain meant he was still alive. 'What the fuck happened?' he thought. He was talking to Lily when suddenly she screamed out and then everything went blank. Jonathan tried to open his eyes and was surprised to find that his eyes were in fact open but everything was still black. A thick fabric bag was wrapped over his head. Jonathan tried to move, but his arms and legs were bound. It was good that he was alive but at this rate, he imagined wouldn't be for long.

"You're awake." Jonathan heard a voice say from in front of him. It was strangely sinister in a way that Jonathan couldn't put his finger on. The bag was lifted from Jonathan's head in a quick motion, the bright light of morning sun assaulted his eyes. Jonathan squinted as his vision slowly returned to him. A lean male faen stood before him, one that he had recognised from Sidim, it was the guy that was smashing through beasts like they were cheap plywood, it was the Tracker. "What is your name sorcerer?"

"Shit, you got me. My name is Bruce, Bruce Wayne, playboy millionaire philanthropist-" Jonathan words were cut short by a swift backhand to the face. The Tracker was wearing gloves, perhaps that was fortunate in this situation.

"Don't lie to me. The priestesses mentioned your name was Jonn." The Tracker crouched down to Jonathan's eye level. "What is your full name?"

"Jonn Nightmare." Jonathan gave the name he chose when he created his character. He was still unable to say his real name.

"Nightmare?" The Tracker raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Nightmare." Jonathan looked around, he did not recognise where he was. Large rolling fields of long grass surrounded the pair.

"That name is stupid." The Tracker said curtly.

"I know..." Jonathan sighed, regretting his choices. "Wait, isn't your name the Tracker? That's just as dumb." This response was met by another backhand from the Tracker.

"That is just what the Imperial dogs call me." the Tracker response was filled with vitriol.

"I'm confused. Don't you work for them?" Jonathan's question was met with another strike. He spat out a mouthful of blood.

"I'm asking the questions here." the Tracker unclipped one of his maces from his belt.

Jonathan looked around, there must be some way he could escape. He spotted the familiar shine of the Zigarete's spear behind the Tracker, but no guidebook in sight. Jonathan pulled at his binding but there was no way he was going to slip free.

"You best answer my questions with truth and speed." the Tracker said as he tapped his mace on ground. "What are you plans to overthrow the Empire?"

"I have none." Jonathan immediately regretted his answer as he watched the Tracker's mace be lifted into the air. "Wait, wait! I'm serious! I don't give a flying fuck what happens to the Empire I'm just trying to survive out here." the Tracker's mace hesitated in the air before gently being placed down onto the ground.

"What an interesting phrase. I believe you." the Tracker smirked. "Unfortunately, that makes you useless to me." Jonathan thought better than to ask why. "Here I was hoping that you had at least a shred of ambition." the Tracker stood up. "I thought you were at least interesting when I heard you stole the Spear of Narcese from Zigarete, but you are just like the others sorcerers I've met, no imagination, no bite." the Tracker clipped his mace back to his belt. "I will have to keep looking from someone with balls." the Tracker looked down to Jonathan with pity. "Shame. Zigarete will be here soon enough to take you to your execution." the Tracker turned away from Jonathan.

"I got more balls than you." Jonathan said with a growl. The Tracker narrowed his eyes but didn't move. "Where I'm from, I have brought down nations." Jonathan lied, well it wasn't so much of a lie than it was a healthy stretching of the truth, Jonathan thought back to his games. "I climbed the ranks of the Silken Empire and under my rule I crushed all that opposed me." Jonathan thought back to his time playing Netorare Emperor in the backroom of Mr. Checnov's shop when he should have been taking stock.

"Go on." the Tracker turned back, intrigued.

Over the next thirty minutes, Jonathan regaled the faen with his gaming achievements. How he thwarted a bandit uprising in Netorare Emperor, how he brought down the economy of the Soviet Union in a game called Spyed, and how he trained a magical warrior to defeat raunchy demons in a game called Magical Girl in Trouble. Of course, he left out the fact that his achievements were all a part of a game.

"You are either an expert story weaver or I have misjudged you." the Tracker crouched back down and looked into Jonathan's eyes looking for some hint of deceit. Jonathan stared back. "Either way, you might actually be useful. Looks like I wont be handing you over, for now." Jonathan felt relived, but that feeling was quickly lost when the Tracker placed the fabric bag back over his head. "Time for you to meet the resistance." Jonathan felt a sharp bludgeoning pain smack the side of his head.

When Jonathan came too, his environment had changed once again. He was sitting on a chair in the middle of a large room. In front of him, at a hewn stone table sat three hooded figures, their faces shrouded. Behind the trio, on the room's wooden wall was engraved in large letters the words "Rainfell for the faen.". It was then that Jonathan had realised that most of his restraints had been removed, now only a single length of rope bound him to the chair he sat on. Besides Jonathan hovered the Tracker. Jonathan peered around for an exit, he spotted a single door directly behind him. There were no windows and yet the room was fully illuminated. Wisps of light hovered in throughout the room like floating candles. Jonathan looked back over to the three hooded figures.

"I'm guessing you are all wondering why I brought you here." Jonathan chuckled.

"Silence prisoner!" The middle figure said sternly, his voice reminded Jonathan of his old high school headmaster. "You will speak when you are spoken to or you will be gagged."

"This is the one?" The right figure asked, she had a much more pleasing voice.

"He is." The Tracker responded.

"He is not much to look at." The left figure said, her voice sounding remarkably similar to the figure on the right. "-and he is human, ew."

"I don't know he looks rather cute in a pathetic way." the right figure added.

"His race and appearance matters little." The middle figure stated, "as long as he has the abilities we are looking for. We are ready to hear your report."

"The Empire is still oblivious. Tarthis still thinks I'm his loyal servant. Even the Inquisition is unsuspecting." the Tracker pushed Jonathan's chair towards the trio. "This sorcerer has proven to be formidable. He has escaped Imperial capture a numerous times." the Tracker paused, "He has even eluded me once."

"That is quite the feat." the middle figure sounded impressed. "The last time that happened was when the Empire sent you after the Dread Sorcerer Fade."

'And I thought my name was edgy...' Jonathan thought to himself.

"I don't believe the similarities are a coincidence." the Tracker continued. "Jonn's sorcery is unique and almost as powerful as Fade's. He can control other's emotions and unlike Fade's mind control, it works on highly intelligent species. The Resistance can use him."

"If he can control people, isn't he better of dead? Why would you bring someone so dangerous here?" the left figure asked.

"Because his powers only work if you touch his skin." the Tracker poked Jonathan's cheek with his gloved hand. "See, harmless. But to get a full understanding of his power will require a demonstration." the Tracker waved over the figure on the left. "Vianna, would you please approach the prisoner. I assure you, it is safe to do so." the three figures removed their hoods, they were faen, all with a deep dark-blue complexion. The figure on the left, whom the Tracker had called Vianna had short black hair cut messily, her pale makeup glittered in the candlelight.

"Why me and not Kianna?" Vianna complained. She looked over at the right most figure who was a splitting image of herself, identical twins. The only thing separating the two was a beauty mark. Vianna's was located underneath the corner of her left eye, whilst Kianna's beauty mark was located underneath the corner of her right eye.

"Just do as he says." The middle figure said exasperatedly, he was an older faen, salt and pepper hair, wrinkle lines, and a five-o'clock shadow. "You complain more than your mother."

"Fine!" Vianna huffed, her face crinkled up as she approached Jonathan.

"Now touch his hand." the Tracker directed.

"I really don't think that is a great idea." Jonathan tried to shuffle his chair back but it was being held in place by the Tracker. "Hey Tracker guy, don't you think this will end badly?" Jonathan was about to utter 'conievo' to temporarily disable his power, but before he could, the Tracker shoved a wadded up piece of cloth into his mouth. "Mmmmh!" Jonathan tried futilely to mumble the words. Too late, Vianna had touched his hand. The faen girl immediately jumped onto Jonathan's lap, straddling him. She began to grasp at his chest and pants, looking to rip them off of him.

"What are you doing Vianna?" the middle figure demanded an answer.

"I'm sorry, I just really... need cock." Vianna moaned.

"What else is new?" Kianna rolled her eyes.

"As you can see, with a mere touch, the sorcerer's power turns their target into a lustful mess." the Tracker pulled Vianna off of Jonathan. Vianna affections then changed target to the Tracker, she reached into his pants and searched for the thing she desired.

"How about you? I bet you could give me a good fuck." Vianna clung to the Tracker.

"Hey, get off my man you slut!" Kianna shouted.

"Oh come one sis, you need to learn to share." Vianna retorted before being further restrained by the Tracker. After some struggling, the Tracker sat Vianna back down on her chair and produced a pair of manacles from his pants. Vianna's hands were clamped behind the back of the chair.

"What a remarkable power." the middle figure pondered. "This might just be the advantage we have been looking for all these years. But this sorcerer doesn't seem very willing to help us."

"Come on, someone fuck me. Please." Vianna begged.

"He wants to live. With the Empire after him, he is unlikely to continue living for very long. So, I would say our goals align." the Tracker removed the gag from Jonathan's mouth. "You do wish to continue living right, sorcerer?"

"No shit. Preferably on a yacht somewhere far away from here." Jonathan could still taste the dirt from the rag that was in his mouth, would it have killed him to use something cleaner?

"He has a interesting way of speaking." the middle figure stood up and inspected Jonathan closer. "Where are you from?"

"I'm from a galaxy far far away." Jonathan smirked.

"How very odd. Well, what say you? Will you work for us if it means your safety?"

"Yeah. But I hope you have a good dental plan because your goon here has been knocking around my teeth all day."

"I don't know what that means but considering you said yes. Let me introduce myself." the middle-aged faen stood tall. "I am Hokk, King of Rainfell and the leader of the Resistance against the Empire."

"Please, your majesty, let me suck your cock. I won't tell mother. I bet I'm better at it anyway." Vianna cut-in.

"Is there something you can do about that?" Hokk pointed to Vianna.

"Yes, but you got to untie me first." Jonathan said.