The story of the Elf Queen

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Morgrave did look beautiful from the towers of the Ducal Castle. The city was old but not ancient. This was clearly visible in its architecture. Morgrave had grown gradually. The original fortified fortress, founded centuries ago, had grown into villages and craftsmen's workshops. When they became so numerous that it was impossible to give them to the enemies to plunder during raids, they were surrounded by a wall, renewing the boundary of the city. And history repeated itself.

Several times in its long history, the city was ravaged by invaders, but they were never able to completely destroy it. Even after the most brutal defeat during one of the Great Wars with the Orcs, the city was rebuilt. The reason for this resilience was obvious. It was a very convenient place where sea, river, and land trade routes intersected. All this was complemented by the fertile land surrounding the city, the forests that had not yet been completely cleared, and the Mont Ros mountain, whose bowels still held many riches and excellent fisheries. And also had a very convenient and deep bay, which allowed even the heaviest ships to approach the city. The two promontories that jutted into the sea and formed the bay were carefully fortified by the city's inhabitants over many generations, turning them into part of the city walls and fortifications. This made the city largely safe from threats from the sea and, in the case of a siege from the land, allowed food to be delivered by ship.

The oldest part of the city, the Upper Town, surrounded by a separate wall of the most efficient and modern fortress, was located on the northern, rather high, and steep bank of the Dantra, adjacent to the steep slopes at the foot of the mountain. The Duke's castle, built by skillful craftsmen on a small plateau, stood on these slopes as if riding them. In the Upper City were located the richest quarters, belonging to the branches of large trade or craftsmen Guilds, the richest and most influential Temples, as well as the most luxurious establishments for the entertainment of guests or residents of the city. There was also a full-fledged Magical Tower overlooking the city, which was given to the Duke's court mage. It is understandable. Magic Towers are one of the most effective means of defense in the city. And so it was placed where it was most beneficial to protect the property of the wealthy and the Duke's castle, not where it was most needed in terms of the city's defense. So human-like.

On the gentler southern bank of the Dantra was the Middle City, where most of the common citizens lived, small craft shops, temples, and houses of worship of the less influential cults, the main city market, and several smaller markets were located. Including a slave market. Separately clustered along the sea and river embankment were the trading warehouses, where every day brought by river or sea endless cargoes that were almost continuously unloaded, reloaded, sold, resold, and sometimes stolen. There were at least a dozen ships constantly anchored in Morgrave Bay, both from other Free Cities and more distant lands. And that's not counting the many small fishing boats. The wide and deep river was also filled with barges, and small boats moved into the city through the River Gate, located at the narrowest point of the river where the city walls were thrown over it. This created an endless jostle that was an inexhaustible source of swearing, and petty fights sometimes escalated into real river battles.

The river navigation was not simplified by the fact that between the Upper and Middle Town, there were four stone bridges across the Dantra of varying height and width. The largest of these, which was originally called the Great Bridge, was flanked by small houses with shops on the first floors. And most of them were supplied with goods directly from wheels, in other words, from oars and sails. Although, the latter were hardly used in the city.

Behind the fortress wall of the Middle City, reinforced by a moat and a few small magical towers held by one of the mage guilds, the Lower City spread out in a wide crescent. To call it a city was to flatter it. Hundreds, if not thousands, of shabby little houses, clustered together and on top of each other, so the sky was often invisible from the crooked streets. The abode of the poor and beggars, both those born here and those who had come to the "Pearl" of the Free Cities in search of a better life. Only along the Southern Road into the city was any semblance of order. But it was only a semblance of order, as most of the wealthy preferred to enter Morgrave either by river or via the Eastern and Northern Roads, which led directly to the Middle and Upper Cities, respectively.

And they were understandable. The Lower Town was a breeding ground for all sorts of thieves and bandit gangs, as well as an inexhaustible source of "live" goods extracted by methods of varying degrees of legality. The local inhabitants would definitely try a stranger unless they were absolutely sure the prey was beyond their grasp. If not to kill, then at least robbery will definitely try. But from the height of the towers of the ducal castle, built by clever architects, the Lower Town was almost indistinguishable, especially after sunset, when the squalid shacks and hovels plunged into total darkness, merging with the fields and pastures around them. But there was a good view of the Middle City and a good view of the Upper City, illuminated by many lights. And where, after sunset, life did not stop but flared up, as if not even brighter.

It looked really beautiful. If, again, one did not stare into the darkness that concealed the slums. The stench of sewage draining into the sea and river, the smell of fish of varying degrees of freshness, the stench of cattle for sale or slaughter, and the dung they produced were not to be smelled up here on the heights. But Luaval did not need to look closely at what was hidden in the darkness. The son of the Underworld had been accustomed from birth to a darkness far worse than that, without the bright light of the stars and moon. His eyes could clearly see the slums surrounding Morgrave. It was the same thing that kept him from admiring the "Pearl" of the Free Cities. He wasn't going to, though. Wiggling the tips of his long black ears, he listened to what was going on a few floors below and smiled contentedly. Everyone had finally settled down.

He rose to his feet in one cohesive, predatory movement, stretching after a long, motionless sitting on the roof of one of the towers of the Duke of Mont Ros's castle. To Augustus' credit, he had not skimped on the defense of his home. The defense of the castle was organized at a very good level. The guards, watchers, watchdogs, magical and ordinary signaling systems. And everything was of excellent quality. Even he would have had to try his best to break in here on the spot. Luckily, Sivila's girlfriend had not only been in bed with the Duke, giving birth to half-blood children in between but had also studied the defenses of her house. Even the parts she shouldn't have known about and, in her husband's opinion, didn't know about.

It made the job a lot easier. At least the easy part. When he touched the cloaking amulet, Luaval changed the cloaking mode. Instead of invisibility, which required maximum immobility, he switched to mimicry, which made the Underlander's dark clothes blend in with the roof tiles. Then he drank a couple of elixirs and touched the thin hoop on his forehead, hidden beneath the hooded mask. The world blurred for a moment but almost immediately became clearer. In addition, the dark elf could see the weaving of spells and the thin threads of signaling systems even more clearly. Finally, he pulled a small pouch from his belt pocket and poured out its contents. The dark gray powder instantly enveloped the dark elf in a dense cloud and then literally clung to all his clothes. Then it dissolved with a barely audible hiss, safely hiding Luaval from most passive and active scanning magic fields.

The queen's agent looked around once more to make sure the thin silk rope was securely fastened and then jumped silently from the edge of the roof. His feet bounced against the castle wall and he was down several stories in a matter of moments. Hovering over the wide balcony offered such a good view of the city and the sea, Luaval listened once more. When he was sure that everything was in order, he jumped down carefully and silently, making sure not to touch any of the thin threads of magical signaling protection covering the floor and railing of the balcony. The closed field that covered the entire balcony didn't react to him either.

The wide doors, made of thick wood and bronze, had a separate defense made by a very clever mage. But in a fairly standard pattern. Taking a small dark pebble covered with carved runes from a pocket on his belt, Luaval put it to one of the knots in the protective charms. The runes glowed with a faint light for a brief moment, then faded, and a short wave ran through the weave of magical defenses. All right, so far, the Duke's wife had not failed. Now, it was a small thing. Putting away the useless pebble, Luaval pulled from another pocket a set of magnificent enchanted lock picks that half of Morgrave's thieves would have killed the other half for. Though possession of such tools, if found in your possession, guaranteed a visit to the torture chambers of the guards in any of the Free Cities unless the owner had a Secret Guard agent's identification.

After a minute of careful work, the lock on the door clicked quietly. The defenses didn't react. All right, now the most important thing. After removing the lock picks, Luaval took out a small amulet and placed it on the door. Then he opened them carefully. The loud creak of the hinges was completely absorbed, and the dark elf grinned crookedly. Clever, but you can't fool the masters. Taking out a small and securely sealed vial of an actively evaporating soporific potion, Luaval broke the seal and with a quick movement rolled it inside, then closed the door again. After waiting two hundred heartbeats, he opened the doors again and slipped silently inside. Behind the doors was a very spacious room, furnished with expensive furniture made by very good craftsmen. The bedroom of the Duke's mother. Luaval stood in the doorway for a moment, making sure everything was in order and that the scanning field in the room had no effect on him.

The stationary artifact in the form of a fountain, which constantly checked the air for purity and immediately raised the alarm if any foreign substance was detected, caused more problems. It took a lot of work to find a composition of sleeping drugs that would not arouse suspicions. Which, again, without the help of the queen's lover-girlfriend would have been very difficult. The powder that shrouded Luaval was still working, but its effects were not endless. Carefully, the dark elf made his way inside and headed for the four-poster bed, behind which he could clearly hear the measured breathing of a sleeping man. Sleeping very soundly now.

He had to move with caution. Inside the bedroom, in addition to the enclosed field, was a signal defense that wove its threads around the room. It was no more difficult to get through here than in the Underground. Or rather, the Wild parts of it, where there were many different creatures, including those who knew how to weave webs of a much more sophisticated kind. When he reached the bed and picked up the empty vial, Luaval carefully pulled back the canopy a little. August's mother was a woman of considerable age, having crossed the centennial threshold decades ago. But very expensive and quality rejuvenating alchemy had done the trick. She looked no more than fifty, her gray hair was still very thick, her skin was almost wrinkle-free, and her figure was slim and trim. Luaval took out another tool, a not very long and thin enchanted rod of silver metal, and touched it gently on the ring with a large gemstone that the Duke's mother never took off even in her sleep. It was lucky she slept with her arm over the blanket, or she'd have had a lot of work to do. The ring flashed brightly for a few seconds, then went out, but the wand glowed faintly.

As soon as that happened, Luaval relaxed visibly. No, he had to admit, the queen's girlfriend could do more than just spread her legs for humans. It's not easy to make a wand that can override a controlling artifact's magical defenses. At the very least, you need to have at least one-time access to the artifact itself. He wondered how she pulled it off. Hardly by herself. It's more likely some servant girl did it. Well, it's none of his business. It took about a minute to readjust the room's defenses. Having carefully made sure the signal threads and scanning field did not perceive him as an intruder, the dark elf started to work. Taking another small vial from his belt, Luaval approached the quietly gurgling fountain, broke its seal, and carefully dropped a few drops into it. The crystal-clear water did not react in any way. Good, the alchemists hadn't failed. After that, he returned to the bed and carefully brought the uncorked vial to the sleeping woman's face. Lifting her head and opening her mouth, he carefully poured in a few drops that were colorless and odorless, then laid the duke's mother back on the pillow.

Then he dripped several times under the bed by the headboard, in the closet with the dresses and underwear, in the dresser with the shoes, and in the contents of several jars on the dressing table in front of the mirror. Okay, that's done. The potion, made and carefully calculated specifically for her, would not kill the Duke's mother but weaken her health. Nothing serious enough to cause immediate alarm. Just a general malaise, weakness, and poor appetite, which would increase gradually. In a month, the Duke's mother would be long out of her daughter-in-law's life and out of politics altogether. It would be easy to solve the issue more drastically, but Sivila has so far refrained from using extreme measures. The death of the old woman will definitely try to link with the elves because everyone knows that she was and remains extremely dissatisfied with the choice of her son. It is not certain that he will believe in the involvement of the firstborn, but it is better not to risk it. So, for now, we're going to have to go very gently. If the old woman were younger and less frigid, she could have a lover to keep her busy with more pleasant things than putting a thorn in her daughter-in-law's side.

Leaving the woman to dream further, Luaval made his way to the next target of his visit. Her desk. The intercepted control allowed him to open it without disturbing the alarms. It was quite careless to use the same artifact as both a key and a controller of the defense system. It was the basics of the security system, which was surprisingly often neglected. Carefully pulling out a stack of letters and several scrolls, the dark elf began to quickly, but without haste, carefully go through them. A small enchanted mirror helped a lot in this, "memorizing" the reflections of the text. Once he had sorted out the documents in the drawers, he took another quick look at the desk. Soon a couple of double-bottomed hiding places in several drawers were discovered and opened. One contained a few more letters and scrolls protected by enchanted seals, the other a couple of pouches of jewelry, a fine and slender stiletto dagger with dried blood on the blade, and a battle amulet filled with fire. Interesting...

There was some effort involved with the sealed letters, but nothing that Luaval hadn't encountered before. He took a tiny scraping of dried blood from the stiletto dagger. Let the court wizards figure out whose it was and why the old woman kept it. Putting everything back in its place, he stood up from the table and scrutinized the Duke's mother's room. Where would he put it? After hesitating for a few moments, Luaval attached a very small amulet to the back of the frame of one of the portraits hanging on the wall. It seemed to be August's grandfather. Or his great-grandfather. He attached another amulet under one of the drawers of the desk. Only then did he head for the exit, making sure there were no traces left behind.

After locking the doors and taking the noise-absorbing amulet, Luaval quickly climbed back up to the roof of the tower. One task was completed, three more to go, and the night was not endless. He took a deep breath, stepped back as far as he could, and jumped silently off the edge of the roof. For a few seconds, he flew stone-faced downward, rapidly approaching the city below. Then Luaval activated his levitation amulet, allowing him to float precisely onto the roof of the building he wanted. He landed silently on the edge of the roof of one of the wealthy mansions in the Upper City that belonged to the head of the Morgravian branch of one of the major trading houses of the Confederation of Free Cities. Rising to his feet, the dark elf looked around and grinned crookedly. This wasn't the Duke's castle; the defense here was much lower, though not bad. There were no defensive fields because they were expensive, and the main thing was that they were not easy to set up and maintain.

So, most of the wealthy residents of the Upper City preferred the cheaper alarm systems, concentrating them on the entrances and exits of their homes. This mansion had almost all, albeit not bad, of its alarm system concentrated on the entrances and exits, while inside the house, there were almost no alarms. It took the dark elf a few minutes to weave a protective weave around a couple of windows that led to the attic. It took another minute for the lock. Once inside the attic, the queen's agent made his way to the stairs leading up to the house with an inaudible shadow, carefully making his way past the various chests and crates. As well as past the stretched strands of the signaling web. The door leading to the attic from the living area of the house, who would have thought, was not even locked. Amazing carelessness. Slipping inside, Luaval found himself in a hallway illuminated by a pair of dim magical lights.

Most of the inhabitants of the mansion were asleep. But he wasn't interested in them. The dark elf had no trouble finding the right direction, and without making a sound, he headed for the master bedroom. There was a small problem at the door in the form of the maid on duty. A problem in the sense that it took an extra couple of heartbeats to solve it. The young and rather pretty by the standards of people girl with dark hair, gathered in a bundle at the back of her head, was busy peeping with great interest at what was going on in the bedroom of the mistress through the keyhole. Biting her lip and actively rubbing herself with the palm of one hand between her legs, pulling up the hem of her dress, and with the other hand rubbing her tits, which were hanging out of the open neckline of her dress.

She wouldn't have noticed Luaval's appearance, even if he hadn't moved so silently. The maid didn't even realize it when one strong hand clamped over her mouth from behind, and the other pressed its fingers firmly into the right spot on the girl's slender neck. A brief flash of panic, a completely muffled squeak, and the hand-worshipping maiden collapsed in the dark elf's arms. Gently laying her down on the small couch by the door to the master bedroom, Luaval made her look presentable, appreciating her bare breasts at the same time. Nice tits, but it wouldn't be good to be found naked in the morning. Giving them another final squeeze, he pulled another small vial from his belt and dribbled a few drops under her nose. It would enhance the girl's sleep and prevent her from remembering the last moments before she was put to sleep. Very convenient and useful, though expensive.

After dealing with the maid, the queen's agent went to the master bedroom. It was well protected. With his magical vision, he could clearly distinguish several weaves. A dense signaling web, a good lock, and a couple of powerful enough activated combat amulets, ready to protect the mistress and attack the intruders in case of alarm. The key word being, in case of alarm. And Luaval wasn't about to raise it. Using the enchanted lock picks and another amulet, he slipped into the bedroom through the ajar door a moment later. He didn't have to worry about being seen. The mistress of the mansion didn't care about him. After closing the door behind him and hanging a woman's handkerchief picked up from the floor to cover the keyhole, he stepped carefully inside.

The master bedroom was furnished with expensive furniture made by human craftsmen but in elven style. Tall closets, a dressing table with a mirror, an armchair with a pouf in the corner, upholstered in soft fabric. The walls were hung with paintings. Some of which were painted very well, including by elven standards. On the floor was a huge rug brought from the countries south of the Middle Sea, depicting a hunting scene. The centerpiece of the room was a huge bed, with a high headboard and footboard, made of snow-white silk linen. Cautiously approaching it, Luaval grinned crookedly. The mistress of the mansion had not noticed his appearance.

Her reason was quite good. A large and tall woman with a gorgeous ass that dwarven men love so much about human women and long, loose brown hair down to the middle of her back was engaged in a very pleasant task. She was riding an elf with short blond hair and a slender, well-trained body with shapely muscles tied by the arms and legs to the headboard and footboard of the bed. She looked to be in her thirties, and her face was not too pretty, rather strong-willed and stern, with a powerful jaw but flawless skin. And not just on her face. It was obvious she didn't skimp on good cosmetic alchemy for her body and hair. Huge breasts with large protruding nipples swayed in time with the movements of her hips, which she moved actively and moaned loudly, biting her lip and covering her eyes. Her partner, who was blindfolded and had a special gag in his mouth that prevented him from speaking but kept his mouth open, only mumbled inarticulately.

There was a small table next to the bed, on which several very interesting bed toys were spread out, as well as five vials. Most likely with fragrant oils and love alchemy. After watching the mistress of the mansion ride her new living toy for a few more seconds, Luaval decided to take his time. With his alchemical and artifact-enhanced eyesight, he could easily see Gaia's Blessing resting on the woman and more than one. And it looked like they had been reinforced with alchemy as well. He could see the results, too, the spark of new life already burning at the bottom of the woman's belly, wrapped in a separate blessing and protective magical ritual. Which was of the same type Sivila had put on his new 'bitch'. Judging by the power of the weave surrounding her future child, the lady was regularly and quite abundantly "squeezing" the lucky daddy. There was still time, so she could let her finish another "recharge." Thankfully, the wait was not too long.

After a few minutes, the woman arched her back, moaning loudly and rolling her eyes, breathing heavily. Her captive lover, judging by the way he twitched and moaned, had also finished. But the woman was not allowed to savor the pleasure of coitus. A moment later, she felt someone's hand pressing a soporific cloth to her face as she inhaled and a second arm around her back, holding her in place. After a few seconds of panic, a pathetic attempt to break free, and the second woman that night collapsed in Luaval's arms. A very large, naked, and sweating woman. Grinning, the dark elf began to carefully remove the unconscious body from the lover. Heavy as hell. You can see she likes a good meal. Though, she'd grown some nice tits, probably without the help of alchemy. His kin, light or dark, rarely had such tits. With a wry grin, Luval allowed himself to squeeze the unconscious woman's breasts rather roughly. Maybe he should ask Sivila to make one for his bitch. Though no, not really. They would look too ridiculous with her figure. Maybe later, in two or three hundred years, to refresh the relationship.

Holding the unconscious woman by her breasts, Luaval managed to pull her off the elf, who was beginning to realize something was wrong, and laid her on the bed beside him, which was wide enough. The dark elf whistled as he saw the cock of his bed-bound kin slipping out of the woman's bosom. The gore-lover's fighter was wearing a golden ring at the root, which glowed in his magical vision. A rather expensive toy for rich women or men. Or rather, for their lovers. Such rings allowed them to control their level of erection and also prevented them from reaching the peak of pleasure without the permission of their mistress. Now, it made sense how she was able to get her new toy to finish at the same time as herself. Looking closer, he noticed an almost indistinguishable thread stretched from the ring on the captive elf's cock to the ring on the peacefully sleeping woman's finger.

Once again, making sure the magical protection of the mistress was intact, Luaval took the chair by the dressing table and placed it beside the bed. Taking out a small but very sharp knife, the dark elf stabbed it into the prisoner's skin. He twitched, but the wound caused by the blade healed almost instantly. A few drops of blood remained on the blade. They were almost immediately absorbed into the metal. A few seconds later, a small amulet in the form of a round mirror displayed several white-colored symbols. Wow, that was lucky. No traces of purposeful witchcraft, just a few high-quality aphrodisiacs. That's good.

Luaval took out a small, dark-blue faceted stone and pressed it against the forehead of the prisoner squirming on the bed. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then the stone flashed blue, and the symbols on the mirror reappeared but in blue. Very good. Not even the smallest trace of consciousness correction. Or this idiot was being worked on by a natural archmage or archmagister of mental magic, but the chances of that were ridiculous. There are only a few of them in the entire foreseeable world and about the same number of elves. This aunt simply wouldn't have enough money for their services, and they wouldn't waste their time on a simple, albeit very rich, merchant. So, she simply decided not to change the identity of her new toy. At least not yet. Well, that happens too, and in this case, it makes the job a lot easier.

After removing all the artifacts, Luaval ripped the blindfold off the silently panicking hero-lover. He looked around dazedly for a few seconds. Then, he noticed the guest sitting next to the bed. For a moment, he stared at his dark kin with his eyes bulging, then he was terrified, but the straps held him fast. Luaval grinned crookedly beneath his mask. Yeah, the boy doesn't know he works for the queen.

"I see you're busy working on your personal life instead of your job again. You've picked a hell of a partner. Although everyone has different tastes, it's still a bit odd, especially for a firstborn. On the other hand, your girlfriend's got some nice tits."

The boy's eyes widened even more, but in surprise, and then he grinned at Luaval, who pulled a small metal disk from his inner pocket engraved with the profile of the queen. He showed it to his captive, who gawked even more, and the dark elf took it back.

"Let's have a serious talk, shall we?"

The boy nodded desperately and mumbled.

"Nice."

With those words, Luaval pulled the gag out of the hapless Forest Guardian's mouth.

* * *

Talking to the juvenile imbecile who'd managed to get captured by his stupidity was surprisingly productive. It's a wonder how quickly your head starts working when you find yourself in such an unpleasant role as a sex slave of a humane woman. After explaining to the brainless boy what was required of him if he wanted to regain his freedom, the dark elf left him to work out the consequences of his stupidity. Preliminarily putting a muzzle and blindfold on him again. And also, as a mockery, giving his mistress not only an antidote to the soporific potion but also a revitalizing and arousing potion. A boon that they were just standing in small vials on the bedside table, next to the various love toys. Soon the woman woke up and looked around with a cloudy look of passion and lust and stopped at her live toy. Breathing heavily, she piled on the mewling captive and began to shower him with kisses, leaving hickeys, while at the same time she was riding him again. It was going to be a rough night for the hapless Forest Guardian. But Luaval didn't care, he had done his job.

The dark elf left the mansion of the woman who had gone wild, and with the help of good acceleration and a levitation amulet, he jumped to the neighboring building. After that, he headed for the next target. Getting to her on the rooftops was not so easy. The Upper City was populated by wealthy citizens, and they didn't skimp on the security of their homes or workplaces. Both magical and living. Some mansions had sentries patrolling the roofs, some had enchanted statues, and some had magical beasts. A few times, we had to go down to the ground and move through alleys, avoiding lighted places. But experience is a great thing, and soon enough, without anyone noticing, Luaval reached the right place.

The three-story squat mansion, surrounded by a high and powerful fence, had been built by a clever architect, a dwarf, judging by the style. In its appearance, it resembled one of their land fortresses. Small windows, more like loopholes, thick walls, lots of granite, just the way short people like it. Probably a big basement, too. In such a mansion, a trained and well-armed squad could hold the defense for quite a long time. But Luaval had no intention of storming it. The mansion's owner did not skimp on defense and protection, but it was not a full-fledged dwarven stronghold. The roof of the mansion was flat, with high ridges around the edges. It was a good place to shoot back in case of an attack. At the moment, a couple of guards were walking on it. Luaval looked closely and saw they were wearing the easily recognizable weave of Night Vision and Alert Amulets. Two more, along with a guard dog, were on duty at the main gate. Not bad, good enough for the locals, but not for him.

Hiding behind a wide stovepipe on a neighboring roof, the dark elf caught the moment when both guards on the roof of the mansion he needed were looking in the other direction and then began to act. A quick acceleration, a swift jump from the neighboring building, activation of the levitation amulet, a short flight, and the dark elf silently landed exactly on the edge of the roof without hitting any signal threads or plates. A pair of guards with a big chain wolfhound on duty at the main gate didn't see or hear anything, and neither did their colleagues on the roof. Without wasting a second, Luaval jumped down, but the height was relatively low.

Landing in the narrow courtyard surrounding the mansion, the dark elf slid along the wall to the back entrance, hiding in the shadows. With the cloaking amulet working, he was not easy to spot, even if one looked closely. As he got closer to the back entrance, which was used by the servants and through which various supplies and food were brought into the mansion, he listened. Clear. Of course, at this late hour, the door was closed. It was locked with a very clever lock and a magical signaling network. Taking out his enchanted lock picks, Luaval set to work, listening to his surroundings at the same time. Beyond the fence, the Upper City was bustling with nightlife, but it was quiet here. It took him a minute to fix the lock and another minute to fix the signal weave. It was a pleasure to work when you had access to the best equipment the royal court had to offer.

Luaval opened the door to make sure the small storage room was empty and slipped inside, closing the door behind him. After squeezing past the piles of crates, barrels, large amphorae, and sacks sealed with magical and ordinary seals, the dark elf reached the door leading to the interior of the mansion. It had roughly the same defenses, except the lock was noticeably simpler. After a minute, Luaval made his way into the mansion. It looked the same from the inside as it did from the outside, like a typical rich short man's dwelling, except that the ceilings were a little high, more human. The walls were decorated with reliefs and bas-reliefs, and all the furniture was solid wood, heavy and powerful. Most of the inhabitants were already fast asleep, except that in the kitchen, in the next room, a couple of servants were still washing dishes and talking quietly, but the dark elf wasn't interested.

Noiselessly moving through the mansion, it took Luaval a few minutes to reach the massive, wide door that led to the master suite. The owner here was much more protective of his private quarters than the new owner of the long-eared lover. The massive door and the surrounding walls were enchanted to keep out any sounds and obscure magical vision. In addition, the entire room was surrounded by a separate signaling net and another entangled with the door. Not bad, not bad at all.

The dark elf looked around, making sure no one was around and all the other inhabitants of the mansion were fast asleep and began to work. It was a bit of a mess. He managed to cope with the signal web on the door by "intercepting" with the help of a special amulet the sent alarm signal. A very handy tool but extremely expensive and disposable. The lock on the door was good, a real dwarven work, but the problem was that the owner closed it with a deadbolt. A good bolt, too. It was necessary to use an expensive potion that made the door briefly transparent from Luaval's side and another amulet that made the door transparent. And also another amulet, which actually "hooked" the deadbolt right through the boards. Having sorted out the locks, the dark elf put another amulet to the door and waited. After ten heartbeats, a very expensive and also disposable tool merged flawlessly with the signal web, woven into the walls and the door.

It was only then that Luaval opened it carefully, without raising the alarm, and listened cautiously to what was going on inside the bedroom. The master and his new toy were still awake, talking quietly. Okay, no problem. Slipping inside the bedroom, or rather into a small hallway, separated from the rest of the room by a good and dense screen embroidered by skillful weavers, the dark elf froze for a few moments. Then he touched his headband once more. The screen immediately became translucent. Luaval looked around and listened. The master bedroom was furnished in the best traditions of the dwarven warrior nobility. Or rather, the part of it that had migrated to the surface after leaving their native Undermountain. Powerful furniture made of solid wood, mostly oak, covered with carvings. On the walls were animal skins, skulls, and horns of various animals, as well as weapons. Quite a nice collection of both dwarven and human weapons. Swords, daggers, a few sticks, a couple of spears, and halberds, but mostly the axes favored by the short men. Lots of axes. Practically an entire arsenal.

In the corner stood on a special rack a complete set of the famous dwarven armor, covered with chasing and engraving, and generously decorated with gold. Very expensive and, in the opinion of the underground shorts, very beautiful. Except that the size was not dwarven, but rather human. Albeit under not the tallest man. However, the reason was clear. A man was sitting on the edge of a wide but not too high bed, covered with blankets made of expensive hides. He was not very tall, but his broad shoulders and sturdy build, which was somewhat spoiled by a small belly, coupled with a luxurious and well-groomed beard to the middle of his chest, gave away a considerable admixture of dwarf blood. As well as a broad chin, a large nose, and a low forehead. It was unlikely that his father, but his grandfather, had definitely come from the Undermountain.

He was sitting on his lap with his long, slender legs wrapped around her, and she was a good head and a half taller than him. She wore gold jewelry around her neck and wrists. Or rather, a magical collar and shackles, skillfully stylized to look like the famous dwarven jewelry. She was slender, with the Forest Guardian's trained body, snow-white hair down to her shoulder blades, gathered in two dwarven braids, fair skin, and breasts of D-size, with a pair of small pink nipples. The owner of the mansion buried his face in her tits, simultaneously groping the firm ass of his toy with his broad palms. She hugged him by his broad shoulders and caressed his thick dark brown hair, which was already showing its first gray.

In front of them, on a rug in the shape of a huge cave bear's hide, were scattered a mixture of expensive gold-embroidered men's robes, sewn according to the latest fashions of the Undermountain, and as if not even more expensive women's robes of red and white silk. Very revealing women's clothes, the kind of clothes in which the rulers of the lands south of the Middle Sea clothed their concubines. Here, too, in the corner of the bedroom, on a small table covered with an amulet that kept food fresh, stood several silver dishes. One with various fruits, another with thinly sliced meats, a third with several varieties of cheeses, sliced and diced, and a pot of honey. Separately, there was a silver jug of wine, enchanted to keep the liquid cold, and a pair of enchanted silver goblets.

By the look of them, it was clear that the couple had just had a fun and interesting time. But right now, the owner of the mansion was busy burying his bearded face in the tits of his new big-eared toy... complaining to her about his hard life.

The bitch-wife, who was married to him by his father for a more than generous dowry and "benefit to the guild". And she had lost the last vestiges of her slight cuteness after childbirth, despite her ability to use cosmetic alchemy and the services of mage-healers. But at the same time, she hissed at any possible mistress of her husband.

On the foolish son who would not join his father's work and the guild but only squandered his father's and mother's money on booze, girls, partying, and expensive toys. And it would be all right to buy thoroughbred horses, of which there was already a whole stable, for at least one could earn money by lending them to those who wished to have a foal from a good male. But no, he bought more dapper clothes than his mother. And he still does not want to realize the simple truth that you can love anyone, but you should marry the one you need. And he had found him such two parties, with such dowries, that it would be easy to turn a blind eye to his not very attractive appearance and not the most pleasant character.

On capricious and hysterical daughters, who were neither clever nor beautiful and could not marry well, mostly through their fault. They didn't like this one, that one wasn't handsome and that one was too old. Fool, so, on the contrary, you should take, since old means he'll die soon and you'll inherit! To be a young widow with money, that's happiness! Especially if you can squeeze a child out of an old man's loins, and after that, you can get the Blood Confirmation from magicians and priests to guarantee your right to inheritance. No, we don't want to do that, and Mom's supportive. But we love to beg Daddy for money for new clothes and jewelry. Because the granddaughter of the head of the armorers' guild has a better and more expensive dress! Or because the Duke's daughters have new earrings and necklaces, real elven work.....

And then back to the wife. And then again on the son and daughters. And then the wife's relatives. Competitors in the trade. And again at the wife. This outpouring lasted quite a long time. All this time, the elven girl sitting on the lap of the owner of the mansion purred softly and sympathetically, ruffling his hair and pressing her tits against him. When her new owner had talked enough, she, without stopping purring, drew him from the bed to a wide and rather low bench that stood along the wall and was covered with a fresh white sheet. Laying the "unfortunate" on his stomach, she took the vial next to the bench and poured its contents on her chest. The scent of a very expensive and fragrant body oil immediately spread in the bedroom.

After smearing it on her big tits, the elfess sat on top of her master and began to rub his back with them, helping to massage him with her hands and purring sympathetic words. Her master, with a blissful expression on his bearded face, quietly moaned with pleasure, enjoying the elasticity of the eared toy's body. Luaval, who was watching the scene from behind the screen, barely restrained himself from smashing his face with the palm of his hand. This young fool should have joined the Secret Guard instead of the Forest Guard. In two hundred years, she'd be as good an agent as Turi, and she could be sent as a mistress to almost any Humas ruler. Even without any special training, she perfectly calculated her new master and chose the right strategy of behavior. Judging by what Luaval sees, she has every chance to go from being a sex slave to an official concubine or mistress and then to being a wife. Especially if she bears him a son and a couple of daughters.

It wasn't exactly what he'd expected to see, of course, but that wasn't a bad thing. On the contrary, it was much better. It was a good thing Sivila had foreseen such an option in advance, even if she thought it unlikely. The rich man who had bought her was not Duke Augustus, but he was not the last man in Morgrave, and he could be useful. Especially his connections, both personal and commercial.

While the dark elf was thinking it over, the kidnapped "captive" managed to wipe her oiled tits on all sides of the enjoying man, making his fighter stand at attention again. After that, he sat down on the bench, spreading his legs wide, and she knelt in front of him and, tucking her pigtails behind her back, playfully ran her tongue along his cock, making her master exhale loudly. Satisfied with the result, she licked it a few more times, and then with a playful smile, she put her lips around the head first and began to suck it gradually, swallowing it deeper and deeper. The dark elf who was watching this clenched his teeth in envy. Damn, what a lucky bearded runt! As if to confirm Luaval's thoughts, he let out a loud moan through clenched teeth and poured into his eared toy's mouth. She swallowed it all with a satisfied look on her face and licked his fighter, just like a cat that had gotten its fill of sour cream. In his mind, Luaval gave the captive a high score for acting. He would have thought she'd been treated properly, but he couldn't see any marks on her with his magical vision.

It would still be necessary to check her, of course, but most likely, she had made it clear from the very beginning that she was ready for anything and was only glad to serve such a rich and generous gentleman. And the man, who was hungry for a beauty ready to do anything, took the bait, limiting himself to only magical shackles and a collar. It wasn't very clever, but what can you do? Other races often stop thinking with their heads and start thinking with their nuts when they see the beauty of firstborn maidens.

In the meantime, the bearded man, who had received oral pleasure from his toy, rose to his feet with her, hugged her tightly to her lower back, and once again nuzzled his face into her oiled tits, engulfing her protruding nipples with his lips. The elf only giggled playfully, squeaking, "Oh, that tickles!" In response, her master chuckled and began to move his head purposefully, tickling her with his luxurious beard, which caused a loud and melodious laughter in return. After a little more play, he was about to take her to bed, but the eared one suddenly didn't allow it, saying that he had to wipe off the oil first so as not to ruin the expensive blanket skins. This certainly earned her another plus in her master's eyes. Though, in Luaval's opinion, he didn't give a damn about any fur blankets. Still, he let her dry herself with the towels he had prepared and then wiped her down. But he didn't wipe her so much as he groped her, which made it take longer.

At last, they were in bed and continued to fiddle under the blankets, but Luaval wasn't going to wait any longer. Another vial of soporific potion was uncorked, its contents quickly evaporated, and after thirty heartbeats, only the sniffling of the sleeping lovebirds came from the bed. From behind the screen, the dark elf approached the bed and pulled the fur blanket off them. Pushing the bearded man aside, Luaval stared at the sleeping naked elf for a few seconds. Beautiful, even by the standards of the firstborn. Reaching out, he ran his palm from the inside of her thigh to her chest, savoring the smooth skin and the trained muscles beneath. Squeezing her left breast, he played with the protruding nipple with his finger. He could have some fun with her while she was unconscious, but that would be highly unprofessional. Luaval followed the rule - work separate, fun separate. Again, the fact that she wouldn't know what had happened killed half the fun, at least for him personally. The dark elf had confined himself to simply groping her tits and flicking the pink cherries of her nipples, and then he got to work.

He tied the wrists of the peacefully sniffling captive and tied them to the headboard. Then he gagged her and began to check her. As expected, there was no sign of mind-altering, not even any love alchemy. Lucky, no doubt about it. Only then did he hold the vial of antidote up to her face. The elf wrinkled her thin nose, frowned at the foul odor, and slammed her blue eyes shut, waking up. She whirled her head around in surprise to see the dark sibling in front of her and let out a muffled squeak. Then she started squirming in terror on the bed.

"Quiet! Do you know what this is?"

The elf stared at the metal disk in Luaval's hand. When she recognized it, she was visibly relieved and nodded vigorously.

"Great. So, uh, let's talk..."

* * *

The conversation with the girl was even more productive than with the boy. After explaining what was required of her and her benefits, and receiving agreement on all points, Luaval left her to sleep in the company of her "master". At the same time, he left her some of his special equipment and a small box of enchanted metal where she could store it. The casket was very convenient, it could be attached to any surface and become invisible, and it was very hard to detect with magic. An indispensable item for any agent.

It was no problem to leave the mansion of the lucky owner of the perfect sex slave. Once outside, Luaval headed for his final destination for the day. And it was in the Middle City. He had no trouble getting there, and it was much easier to get around. The Middle City preferred to sleep at night with all the doors and windows shut. There was almost no lighting anywhere, and no magical guards. The houses stood close together, and it was easy to move along the rooftops. Aside from a few groups of murky individuals moving about under the cover of night, there were no problems. None of them noticed Luaval, of course.

When he reached the small inn located in a three-story apartment building and an adjoining stable on the border with the Lower Town, the dark elf grimaced. Climbing into this clop-house was aesthetically unpleasant. By Morgrave's standards, the inn's occupants were jolly good fellows, and they had organized the security at a decent level, not even skimping on magical protection. Which was understandable, considering who they had as guests. But the dark elf managed to get inside without any problems at all. The signal web on the window of one of the rooms on the third floor was not active. Or rather, it looked like it was working, but if you look closely with magic vision, it became clear the signal threads lead to nowhere. And no alarms would be raised. It was only necessary to open the tight shutters, which was no trouble since they were closed only with a regular deadbolt from the inside.

The amulet for canceling sounds, one heartbeat, and Luaval was inside a rather large room, lit by a single candle on a table by the bed. Numerous bundles of herbs, woven amulets, and amulet blanks hung from the ceiling, walls, and shelves. A ritual circle was drawn on the floor in a corner, and potion supplies were on a table in another corner. The room's occupant, a tall, thin woman with long dark hair and pale skin, wearing only a nightgown down to her knees, did not notice Luaval's appearance. She was sitting on the bed with her arms around her knees and her face pressed into them. It was only when she felt the chill of the night that she noticed the open window, and she cursed quietly as she got out of bed and headed toward it, slapping her bare feet on the floor. Halfway there, she was grabbed from behind by a strong male hand on her chest, and a creeping voice sounded in her ear:

"Hello, sweetheart. I suppose you're waiting for me?"

The woman, with whom no one of her acquaintances had ever risked joking or frivolity, shuddered and twitched but immediately froze in place, opening and closing her mouth. Luaval grinned contentedly as he continued pawing at her tits through her shirt, squeezing them tightly and pinching her nipples with his fingers. The tits weren't that big, just a B-size, and the owner of them wasn't even beautiful by human standards. It was much more pleasurable to see this, not the weakest witch, in her own home, trembling like an aspen leaf in his hands and not daring even to squeak. The power over powerful women turned him on.

The reason she was so submissive and afraid was because of her tits. Under her left tit, to be exact. And it was a small snake that coiled around her heart. A very poisonous snake began to loosen and tighten its grip in time with Luaval's movements as he continued to play with the trembling woman's breasts. She pulled herself together and, licking her dry lips, whispered fearfully:

"Yes! Yes, I did everything I was told to do!"

"Good girl," Luaval whispered in her ear, still massaging her already-hardened nipples.

"I like an obedient woman. I need to speak to your guest. Arrange a meeting. Now. In secret, of course."

The groped witch shuddered, once again distinctly feeling the snake on her heart, and nodded hastily:

"I'll do everything! No one will see anything, I swear!"

Smiling, Luaval said in the same ingratiating voice in her ear.

"Good girl."

Then he squeezed the shivering witch's tits one more time and slapped her lower back.

* * *

The bait of the Elf Queen