Chapter 0 - Legend of the Mother of Armies

When the gentle Akrasan dawn came lapping at her feet, Elspeth Tirel found herself still awake, half sitting, half laying on the soft grass that covered the hills of Bant, the warm wind caressing her naked skin.
The Planeswalker was naked fron the shoulders down, her only article of clothing the Jhessian silk scarf that covered her head and neck before flowing down her back, bearing all the Sigils she earned during her stay on the shard. She smiled, remembering all the heroic deeds and the lewd escapades she enjoyed during the years. She had one medal for every new life she birthed on the shard, and those were starting to get too many to count. 

Just the thought of that sent a tingle down her spine, heat pooling in her painfully empty womb. 

She learned years before that Harvata's blessing restored her flesh and skin after every pregnancy, her waist and belly returning to her slim silhouette mere days after labor, the thin stretch lines that lined her taut stomach the only evidence of her deeds. A slim hand started it's journey down her body, lightly stroking a milk-filled and dripping breast before dipping between her thights, resting against her nether lips, nesting in the silken hotness, her legs spreading on their own accord, exposing the curly patch of wheat-colored hair that barely covered her pussy. She gave birth to her last son, a healty minotaur calf she named Gorn, just a week before, and it looked like her hyperfertile womb was primed again, ready to accept a new life and swell and swell and swell, stretching her skin and making her feel whole again, big and beautiful and glowing like only pregnant women do.
Her head swam in the memories of all the bestial mates she took inside her folds.
Minotaurs and kavuses, wolves and centaurs, giant spiders and leotaus.

And Fereydun. 

With a gasp and a wet, slurping sound, she removed her hand from her aching cunt, biting her lower lip as her gaze shifted to her left, to the object that kept her awake all night, staring into nothingness.
Her armor, the armor she wore when she left Castle Dawnmight after Knight General Rafiq rejected her, the armor she shed before offering her virginity to the mighty Fereydun, the colossal Leotau mount of said General. The armor that she left there, untouched for almost ten years while she roamed the shard fucking and breeding with every creature with a cock that catched her eye, the metal once shiny now opaque and rusted, the flowing tabard of jhessian silk covered in mold.
She never missed it, favoring the heavyness of her own life-filled uterus over that of the cold, lifeless metal.Elspeth sighed, shaking her head. Harvata's blessing and her own Spark slowed her aging almost to a stop, and she didn't look a day over thirty. She had a nice life, with her stud mates and her children, living in the Bantian wilderness where man feared to thread, the wind in her hair, laying every night with her loved ones, belly full of meat and womb full of cum. 

Then, the Slivers came.  

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When the portal opened in the plains before Dawnmight, a shimmering void under the summer sun, it was regarded as a weird curiosity by the witnesses, until waves upon waves of single-clawed, scaled creatures started pouring from it, overwhelming the small detachment of soldiers sent to guard it, spreading towards the city and the villages nearby, killing and feeding and evolving without pause, driven by the total imperative etched into their hive minds: Propagate and Survive.
For the first time in centuries, the huge silver horns mounted on the towers of the Castle were blown, the sound echoing through the shard calling to arms every soldier, conscript, and able bodied man and woman to defend the capital against the seemingly unstoppable invasion. The Call reached even the remote corner of Bant where the Broodmare, once Knight Errant, and her family were resting, and she had to make a choice, fast. 

Knight-General Rafiq was, needless to say, on the first line, muscular body encased in sacred plates of armor, too many Sigils to count tinkling together at every swing of his sword. Seated high on Fereydun's armored back, they were a sight to behold, cutting a large wedge in the feral horde, the Knight murmuring prayers to the Asuras through clenched teeth and tight lips and the Mount roaring in defiance and snarling every time a Sliver managed to land a blow on him, wich happened more often as the battle progressed.The siege Rhinos were stomping and trampling, the flying avens raining spears and arrows on the invaders, kithkins and catfolks and even merpeoples and elves joining the fight to protect their homes and families. Still, they were slowly losing ground against the ever-evolving swarm. Even with the blessing of Jenara, the angelic Asura of War, there were simply too many. 

Surrounded, dismounted, and wounded, Rafiq was nonetheless still standing, shouting prayers loud enough to be heard over the buzz of the skittering horde, protecting his mount from the grasping talons of his enemies. Fereydun laid wounded and unconscious near the Lord of the Many, large gashes lining his fur. Rafiq's armor was in similar conditions, some cuts deep enough to reach the tarnished muscles below.
But he was still fighting, ready to die to protect his people, a spark of hope still shining in his chest. 

Hope that almost died when he felt the ground starting to shake. 

When the horde paused, chirping in confusion, he dared to look at the still open portal, half expecting to see some other tentacled monstrosity making it's way into reality, his brows furrowing when he saw nothing of the sort. But the ground kept shaking, the Slivers started retreating, and soon enough a concert of rumbling, deafening roars resounded through the battlefield, prompting the Knight to turn, assessing the new potential enemies, his last prayer dying on his lips, mouth hanging open. 

Down the green hills came charging a mismatched army of creatures, roaring and shouting challenges, profanities, and prayers to Harvata and to the Broodmother.Minotaurs, Centaurs, Throggs and Goblins. Wild Leotaus, Unicorns, Bears and Wolves. A colossal Baloth and a fifty-feet Wurm towered over the smaller creatures, some using them as mobile fortresses for the impending battle. To the bantian survivors of the battle, it looked like every single feral animal and bestial creature of the shard was coming to join the battle against the invaders. 

And, right in the middle of the pack, was Elspeth. 

Riding bareback on her firstborn, Gajah, the Planeswalker rode into battle naked as the day she was born, her swollen, pregnant body shrouded in white mana, longsword shining under the Akrasan sun. She roared together with her mates and children before slamming in the flank of the Sliver swarm, the skittering parasytes unable to counterattack and, for once, overwhelmed by a feral horde far fiercer than them. Invigorated by the new, unexpected allies, the bantian soldiers raised their heads and weapons, rallying again under the command of the Planeswalker, joining their cries with those of the beasts. 

Soon enough, Elspeth found herself beside Rafiq, shoulders to shoulders, stealing a worried glance toward the downed leotau, her First Mate, the love of her life, still alive but slowly bleeding on the lucious grass where they used to rut and frolic. Still, the feeling of another being against her shoulderblades was conforting, even in the dire circumstances she found herself in.The High Sigiled Lord spoke to her, for the first time since that fateful night.

"Elspeth. You have changed." There was no accusation in his tired and coarse voice, just a lingering fatigue, and the hope of turning around the results of the battle.
"Life has it's own ways of changing peoples, Lord Rafiq." Despite herself, she smiled, slashing her blade almost effortlessy at the Slivers, driving them back to the portal.She was used to the extra weight on her body, and was able to move with the same feral grace as the scantly clad leonid war monks, despite being huge with her unborn child. "I couldn't leave the father of my cubs to die beneath those horrible creatures." Another worried glance to Fereydun, before advancing, step after step, keeping the swarm at bay.
The Sigiled Knight, barely beginning to understand the implications, just nodded, putting his sword and shield to good use, shearing and bashing without mercy, his prayers joining again the cacophony of Elspeth's Army.

Around them, there was madness.

The biggest minotaur Rafiq ever saw was swinging his two-headed axe without pause, turning the Slivers around him into a fine red mist. A pack of goblins, riding on the back of their wolf half-brothers, jumped around, biting and slashing and stabbing and mocking the Slivers every time they failed to hit them. The scaled Siege Wurm was gobbling up the smaller enemies like they were glazed threats sold at a village fair, not losing precious time with trivial matters like chewing, leaving a large path in his wake. It was hard to believe the enormous, living engine of destruction was once a little egg, no bigger than a cantaloupe, warmly nested inside Elspeth's loving belly. He was making his mother proud, nonetheless, and most importantly, they were winning. 

And win they did.

 When the last Sliver was shunned back into the portal, and the ugly space anomaly was closed with the help of the Asuras' angelic magic, the only thing that could be heard across the battlefield was a deep, surreal silence. Everyone, survivor, soldier and beast alike, was waiting, holding their breaths, not wanting to jinx the result of the battle by sighing in relief before it was time.Seconds turned into minutes, the portal didn't reopen, and finally Rafiq raised his sword high above his head, screaming victory to the clear sky of Bant.He was soon joined by every soldier who was still standing, cries of " Long live the Sigiled Lord" and "Victory for the Asuras" rousing higher and higher in volume, while the beasts all rushed to Elspeth, gathering around her under the curious gazes of the nearest witnesses. 

It was when the huge minotaur knelt before her, calling her "Mommy" with a deep, raspy, but understandable voice, and the wurm coddled his enormous head affectionately against her chest, that the legend was sealed in history. That day, she was Elspeth, Knight Errant no more. (Nor Elspeth, the Breeding Bitch for those few who knew.) 

She was Elspeth, Mother of Armies. 

Soon, her name was screamed toward the sky together with those of Rafiq and the Angels, while the balmgivers and the field nurses started tending on the wounded and the deceased. Elspeth found herself kneeling beside Fereydun, her hands diving in his mane, pressing a kiss to the beast's forehead. "Fereydun, My Love. Can you hear me?" Her voice was soft, hopeful. The great beast trembled, lifting his heal slowly before licking her cheek. Elspeth smiled, tears trailing down her face. "You will be fine, Love, worry not. I'm here for you, I'm here." She caressed Fereydun's head, before jerking her head toward the nearest balmgiver. " Medic!"  

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Weeks later, Fereydun was resting in a makeshift tent to protect him from the chilly winds, large patches of dark-golden fur shaved off to apply healing balms and stitches where needed. Elspeth was a warrior, a woman, and most importantly a mother, but she was no healer, and she was sorely reminded of it when she was unceremoniously shoved outside the tent by a plump and jovial nurse, leaving her with nothing to do but mope and wander around aimlessy, snuggling with her children, conforting those who lost a brother or a sister, until she found herself on the hill, alone and thoughtful and horny. Mostly alone and horny.
Bad combination. 

She was trying to fight back the hot tingle of arousal, when she was startled by a rustling sound and glanced behind her, only to find the golden form of Gajah, her firstborn, approaching her. The once small and playful cub had grown to be as big as his father, if not a little more, a mighty and proud animal. For everyone beside his mother, obviously. For Elspeth, he would always be the little kitten who trembled against her chest when the summer thunderstorms roared over their shelter, and who mewled shyly while shooting his first load of cum inside her. The leotau sat beside her, nuzzling his head in the hollow of her collarbones.

"There, there, big boy. You came to cheer up on your lonely mother? Thank you." The Planeswalker smiled, raising her hands to pet her son, lifting his head to kiss him on the nose, prompting his tongue to come out and lick at the spot. Gajah then went on, smearing his tongue on Elspeth's face like he was trying to groom her, purring loudly. Laughing, she fell sideways, laying on her side on the soft grass, taking Gajah with her and pressing herself against his broad, hairy chest, her nipples hardening at the contact. She knew Gajah could smell the arousal spreading from her fertile, aching womb.
She needed to be bred, her body craving a new life to nurture, and she wasn't in the mood to argue. 

After thrusting her hips against his belly, delighting in the feeling of his coarse hair grinding on her cuntlips, she inched downward, her hands searching and gripping her son's rapidly hardening erection, the slab of beast-meat sliding out from his sheat. Taken over by her lust, Elspeth smirked. He really was bigger than his father. Licking her lips, she stroked the shaft once, twice, massaging the head to spread the hefty amount of precum she foud there. She wasn't faring a lot better, her needy pussy drenched and dripping down her thighs. "Oh, my dear son, you've grown so well. Here, let mommy help." She licked the flared head of his bestial cock, before engulfing it in her mouth, moaning, savoring the well known taste of her son's precum. 

Elspeth bobbed her head slowly, inch after inch of cock slowly disappearing behind her lips and stimulating her mate with her tongue, making him purr with uncontained excitement. She lifted her hands, massaging her milky breasts with large strokes, pinching her engorged nipples, welcoming Gajah's rock-hard cubmaker between her heavy, swollen mammaries, slicking it with her sweat and milk. Still, she couldn't tease him for long, lust burning hotter than ever in her loins. Just the thought of her sweet, young and virile son mounting her, breeding her like his father did ten years before and filling her with a new litter sparked a tiny orgasm, squirts of her juices wetting the grass.With one last, wet kiss on her firstborn's prick, the Planeswalker dropped on her hands and knees, spreading her legs a bit and turning to present the young leotau with a nice view of her raw, ready cunt, glistening and dripping with excitement. 

"Fuck me, Gajah" Elspeth licked her lips, looking at her son over her shoulder with sultry eyes and a voice that dripped sensuality "I need you inside me. I need to be bred. Please...Knock me up. Fill me with your cubs." He could feel his mother's heat, her primal, incestuous desire to bear her own grandchildren, and did what countless other males did ove the years: he moved forward, mounting the needy, horny Planeswalker, the flared tip of his equine-like cock resting against her soaked, hairy netherlips. 

Elspeth shivered in delight, the feeling of fur on her back reminding her of the inhumanity of her mate. In a moment of clarity she realized that, even with all her adventures on Bant, she never took a human inside her. Would a human even lay with her, knowing that she was regularly screwed by wolves, bears and goblins? Would a human baby feel different inside her womb?
Thankfully, her thoughts were interrupted when Gajah thrust forward, completely sheating inside his mother with a long, fluid motion. Her brain was emptied at the same rate as her pussy was filled, every nerve in her body alight with pleasure. 

She moaned loudly, tongue hanging from her open mouth, eyes rolling back inside their sockets, while her son roared his dominance to the warm morning sky. Every beast within earshot, including a half-sleeping Fereydun, knew that, at least for today, Elspeth was her firstborn's breeding bitch."Oh yesss..." She ground her hips slowly, while Gajah started sliding in and out of her sodden cunt with long, regular strokes, bottoming up against her cervix at the end of each one, his fuzzy balls hitting against her clit with wet, lewd sounds. 

Arching her back, Elspeth lifted her right arm, circling her son's strong neck while he pumped inside her, fingers tangling in his mane, her other hand pinching and teasing her hard nipples in turn.
"Oh, Gajah. You feel so good inside me...Kiss me." She turned her head, meeting and entwining Gajah's long and wet tongue with her own, her arousal soaring even higher as she awkwardly frenched her son, mainly because of the shape of his muzzle, swapping spit and sweat and sex juices with him while she petted his mane, her leonine lover still pounding his rock-hard cock inside her.
"Yes, yesss...Make mommy pregnant with your seed, mark my cunt..." Elspeth could feel her womb getting ready for the load of cum she knew was coming, her overactive ovaries pumping egg after egg down her tubes, waiting to be found and fertilized by her son's potent sperm. Judging from his heavy panting, they wouldn't have to wait for long, and she wasn't faring better, her own breath short and labored. 

Between moans and whines, and inching closer and closer to what promised to be a glorious climax, she still found enough breath to incite her firstborn, her voice low and lusty.
"Mommy will give you lots of healthy cubs, oh yes... Sons to help you hunt and daughters for you to breed when they are old enough..." Gajah growled, clearly enjoying the thought, slamming his cockhead against her cervix, and she felt his balls thighten, his girthy shaft pulsing slightly between the walls of her hungry cunt. He just needed a little push.
"Gajah! Gajah! I love you, my son! I'll be your bitch forever...Fuck me! Fill me! Knock me up!" On his next thrust forward, the Planeswalker thrust back, fully hilting her son inside her, roaring together with him before her mind fizzled, the combined feeling of her thundering orgasm and the torrent of virile cum Gajah just unloaded into her, painting the walls of her womb in white, was too much for her oversexed brain to handle.
Eyes rolling back, she slumped forward, her fall softened by her swollen breasts, her son still pumping inside her quivering, experienced pussy. 

Somewhere inside her overloaded, magically enhanced womb, she registered the exact moment her son's strong swimmers found her eggs, and she smiled in her orgasm-induced haze. 

She was pregnant once again.  

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When she opened her eyes again, it was almost midday and she was still laying on the grass, her son spooning her against his warm fur, his half hard member still spearing her, sealing the heavy load of seed inside in the most delightful way. Gajah was asleep, snoring lightly, his strong forelimbs wrapped protectively around her midsection, her freshly fertilized womb still tingling from the pounding. Realizing she was woken by a low, repetitive flapping sound, Elspeth raised her eyes to the sky. And gasped, when she found herself under the scrutiny of three beautiful, radiant, and most importantly winged women, halos shining brightly with white mana.

Harvata, Asura of Fertility, landed first, wings folding neatly behind her back, followed by Jenara, Asura of War, and Zazie, Asura of Protection. The angels waited patiently, Harvata sporting a knowing grin, while Elspeth unscrambled herself from her sleepy son, kneeling in front of them, gaze low. She was used to being naked, but could not stop herself from blushing as she waited, semen slowly trickling down her thights and pooling under her. 

Zazie was the first to speak, after clearing her throat.
"We are sorry for interrupting your well-deserved rest, Elspeth." She smiled brightly, golden eyes alight with amusement. "But the Council of the Asuras has come to a decision regarding you."
"While we received various reports of... disagreements between your family and the population of the Shard..." Jenara continued "Your actions in the battle against the alien invaders speaks loudly of your valor and sense of duty..." "And really, your little goblins stealing cakes from windowsills and clothes from bathing farm girls are minor nuisances, almost unworthy of notice." Harvata interrupted, nodding, recoiling slightly when Jenara glared daggers at her.
"Sorry. Please continue" Jenara waited for a split second, before opening her mouth again. "So, the Council sent us to ask you, Elspeth Tirel..." The Asura of War unsheated her sword, presenting the blade to the startled Planeswalker. "Will you protect your children, and the people of Bant, should the need arise? Are you willing to give your life so that your progeny would survive?" 

The angel trio stood silent, the silence around them so heavy you could hear the little gears turning inside the Planeswalker mind. She didn't have to think much about it. Elspeth Tirel, sweaty and dirty, body caked in dried spit and crusty cum, matriarch of a ever-growing family and pregnant with her own grandchildren, leaned forward, pressing her lips to the tip of the sword.

"I Will." 

With a slight smirk, Jenara lifted the sword, the blade touching Elspet's shoulders in turn.
"Elspeth, Planeswalker of the Tirel Dinasty. On behalf of the Council of the Asuras, I dub thee Mother of Armies, Protectress of Bant. May life on the plane prosper under your vigilance."
Once her sword was back in it's sheat, Jenara knelt before Elspeth, taking her face between gloved hands and pressing a small kiss on her forehead.
"May your sword cut down a thousand invaders without pause, Mother Elspeth."
With the poor Planeswalker still stunned and slack-mouthed from the close contact with the angel, Jenara got back on her feet, swiftly replaced by Zazie, who kissed her on both cheeks.
"May your skin never know the harsh kiss of steel, Mother Elspeth."
And then, she found herself once again before Harvata, the Asura she owed her large family to.
The Angel took her face between her soft, pale hands, studying her with the loving gaze of a mother, before inching forward, pressing her parted lips on Elspeth's, jolting her out of the Asura-induced coma. Their tongues found each other, and Elspeth was not surprised to feel the familiar taste of semen on the other one's. When the kiss ended, far sooner than she wanted, Harvata smiled sweetly
"May your children prosper and remember your name through the centuries, Mother Elspeth."
Beaming like a proud mother watching her child take his first steps, the Asura of Fertility hugged Elspeth closely, squeezing her in the most pleasant of ways, whispering into her ear, low and conspiratory.
"Your title is so much better than most of the others, too. I may even get a bit jealous~"
Elspeth felt something heavy on the scarf wrapped around her neck, but before she could look down, the angel rose up again, wings flapping slowly to keep her stable, followed by the other Asuras.

"We will keep an eye out for trouble, Elspeth." Jenara nodded, her stern eyes fixed on the naked planeswalker "If Bant need your help, you will know. Until then, enjoy your rest. And... Congratulations, I suppose" Elspeth smiled, her hand petting her belly, nodding her gratitude to the angels before they took off.  

Her gaze drifted to the new sigil Harvata pinned to her scarf, the symbol engraved on it shining in the gentle arkasan sunlight, a heavily pregnant, naked woman holding a small shield in front of her belly. She looked a lot like her too.
She smiled softly, before returning to her sleeping son, the huge cat still blissfully asleep, and sat near him, stroking his fur, her other hand on her belly, stroking it lovingly.  

She was a woman, as everyone looking at her knew. She was a mother, and she would start showing soon enough. But she was also a warrior, and she was going to protect her children until her last breath.



 