The sounds of war thundering around her head were slowly growing dimmer as she felt consciousness fade from her. Metal giants stomped across the rocky evening battlefield, kicking up unbelievably large dust clouds. Her own forces...she had thought them stronger.
Battle, survival of the weakest, after the scouring of the Great Wyrm Asirnoth and the land of shadows, after humbling the fell wraiths which awoke too avenge their wrathful idol, she had thought the clans strong enough to face any threat.
Yet, she was wrong. She had seen that golden giant before, in her dreams, shining in her magnificence. She had hoped to meet her honorably on the field of combat, to determine the most worthy to lead. She had thought the clans worthy of the honour, yet, she had been wrong.
Panting,exhausted, sweaty and cold. Farah Manus' eyes grew dim as unconsciousness came for her. In mere minutes she relived a lifetime of experience....
It was all a blur of sights and experiences. Her crash landing on mount Karaashi, experimenting on the pod which had carried her to Medusa, and gaining her first taste of technological tinkering.
And of course, her great failure, the dishonour which had set her on the path of the warrior since her young childhood days. Her foolishness which allowed the silver Wrym to roam freely across Medusa, terrorizing all in its path.
She remembered racking the Wrym to the surface of the world, leaving behind the cold dour mountain she had called home for far too long. The trail of destruction that Asirnoth left in its wake was impossible to miss.
Really, it was only a matter of time before somebody stumbled upon it.
She couldn't have looked all that glamorous, she didn't need a mirror to know that. She'd had to scrounge and scrape together whatever she could to survive. Dustt, dirt, soot, ash and coal had covered her skin generously, and it would be generous to call what she wore rags, yet it didn't seem to matter to them.
The men, the first men she had ever seen, staring first at the trail left in Asirnoth's wake, then at her. She knew that it was not yet time to speak with them though, her quarry needed hunting...and yet, it was faroo hard to tear her gaze away from them.
They were all well built, not handsome, but with an air of respectable gruffness. She could only call their bodies admirable then, now, she had a far different and more suitable word for what she felt.
They themselves looked at her with an odd gaze, a piercing gaze, looking at her distantly scantily clad form from head to toe. It was not yet time, though it lit a fire in her. She had sworn an oath to kill the beast, and so she world, if only to be released from her oath to join these creatures who so greatly resembled her.
Eventually though, necessity caused her to make an...amendment to her oath. After all, she had to keep herself well and able if she were to destroy that damned wyrm. She heard enough from a distance to communicate with them, it had become a hobby, something to pass the time as she tracked that great and terrible beast.
She would kill it, yet she needed sustenance, she needed rest, and she needed to get rid of a most distracting feeling, which had begun to well up inside her core. She would attempt to dislodge the thing in her core with her skilled fingers, but could not reach it. Her hands were able to lessen the sensation of her core. This was weakness plain and simple, weakness which cost her precious hours, days even, that the abominable silver beast used to inflict more pointless hurt and suffering onto the people of Medusa.
Yet, her weakness would not last, for she was strong of body, and her heart was tempered as the keenest steel...
The young matriarch couldn't remember how long she had been tracking Asirnoth, how many days she'd spent hunting the foul beast across Medusa. The time length had seen her grow and develop into a nubile young lady, her body grown strong with her endless physical exertion. Her weakness had slowly dimmed within her, and now she was ready to kill the beast.
In the Land of Shadows, under soot filled skies and around intricate networks of laval lakes, the young matriarch cornered her prey. Translucent incorporeal silver wraiths stalked the ghostly lands, yet not even that was enough to deter the young scion of the Empress.
She caught it seemingly napping one dark and dusky knight, the only light source the infernal glow of lava, and the occasional crackle of green lighting that arced from cloud to cloud. Asirnoth, the great Wyrm, was resting next to some pyramidal outcropping of obsidian stone, a fell metallic chittering emanating from its spiteful mouth.
She didn't give it a shadow of a chance to escape. Charging at it full force, it only had enough time to turn and look upon her rushing form as the Matriarch crashed into it, tackling it towards a nearby stream of molten lava. Yet, Asirnoth was not a foe to be taken lightly. Dozens of spear sized metal feet dug into the ground, halting its momentum, its many green eyes looking right into the young Matriarch's eyes, cold and lifeless. It seized the initiative, tried to grapple her with a pair of mighty steel mandibles, yet she would not be so easily rendered asunder.
WIth a great holler of exertion she caught the mandibles in her arms, pushing them away from her torso with great effort. It was then that Asirnoth seemed to look her up and down, paying great attention to her chest and crotch, and make some unspoken tactical decision.
Metal tendrils exited the mouth, and explored the body of the matriarch, tasting the salty sweat of Farah. Wrapping around her arms, waist, legs, the tendrils explored her body, leaving slimy trails of spit mixed with grease over her body. The tongues soon rolled over her shoulders, and to her breasts, wrapping around the high C cup breasts. Smaller wire like tendrils left the ends of the larger tendrils and wrapped around her nipples, pulling and twisting them.
The tendrils that wrapped around her legs rolled up, before meeting at her firm muscular ass, and rubbed on her pussy, taking turns as one tongue would move forward, and the other move back. Farah grit her teeth, pushing against the large mandibles, before another tendril snaked out of the maw, and wrapped around Farah's throat. She struggled to keep the mandible open, when suddenly, the tendrils rubbing against her pussy pushed inside, and began rotating.
Farah moaned in anger, as her own flesh was showing weakness. She pushed the mouth open, before another tendril pushed on her asshole, sliding inside of her. The two tendrils began to pump in and out of her, making her legs buckle under her.
"Damn you, Asirnoth, I shall, defeat, you." She said through gritted teeth.
The tendril around her throat released slightly and moved, before a tendril pushed against her mouth. She gasped, as the lower tendrils began to move faster and deeper, allowing the third tendril to enter her mouth, and fuck her throat. Farah tensed ever muscle she could, forcing her to stand. Asirnoth glowed a deep pink, before large bulges worked their way down the tendrils and sprayed a disgusting liquid in Farah's throat, ass and pussy.
The tendrils pulled back and released her, the beast was weakened, and now, she could take advantage. The ground around them cracked, showing burning lava under them. Farah, with ever bit of strength she could muster, lifted the beast up and slammed it down into the ground, submerging the beast's head in lava.
Farah held its head down for whole minutes as it struggled in futile resistance,slowly but surely loosing strength, till it could move no longer. Before long the silver menace that was Asirnoth washed away into that great river of molten rock, and the young Matriarch free to pursue her own path in life.
She pulled the unmoving body out, and silver blood ran from the stump, and down onto her hands, burning them with the heat of the lava. The blood ran down her arms, before reaching just past her elbows, before fading. She dropped the body, seeing arms now covered in the blood of the beast.
She cried out in pain, falling to the ground, and punched the body of Asirnoth, into the molten river, melting the body. She looked at her fist, the punch did not hurt. She moved her hands, seeing that they were metal.
"The flesh is weak, but my hands are not." She said.
Figuring out what she needed to do first was not difficult in the slightest...
