Heleion Archives

35th of September, 65th of the Neo-Dawn Era. The Nameless Catacombs, Hrisateigr Range, South East of Eptirrion .

            “How can you stand this stench?” Maervad, a wood elven Vordriar of the Black Rose, turned to her umbral elven Sister, Ereveusal, a Hirdriar. The warm glow highlighted their seamless, raven black uniforms with high collars. Maervad's collar rose sharply and tapered to a point, resembling a pyramid, while Ereveusal's collar folded down angularly, casting shadows with her porcelain white jaws on its dark, smooth surface, framed by snow silver ends.

Scales starting from the baseline of their collars ran down towards their elbows, stopping right where it began and turning smooth downwards, ending in cuffed sleeve ends for both.

“Well, at the end of the war we burnt a lot of undead, so I guess I just got used to it.” Ereveusal replied in her cold voice, maintaining a kind tone as they heaved and dropped the corpse of an ancient warrior onto the burning pile.

“But that was 65 years ago.” Maervad pointed out as the two headed towards the edge of the large plateau, overlooking the plains stretching far into the distance, blanketed in hues of black, mauve, and blue.

“Well we burnt thousands of dead during the war, so I guess even after these few decades, I can still stand this stench.” The wind picked up, gently blowing Ereveusal's sleek and polished jet black hair, elegantly gathered into a low bun, while two burgundy red strands framed her face. Her dark eyes, two scorching red pearls for pupils, focused on the stars in the clear night sky.

“Shit I just realized why Hene recommended me for this mission.” Maervad exclaimed, her eyes, rich in hue reminiscent of northern Eoran's bright walnuts, widened as she realized her feyfolken friend had recommended her for the mission a few weeks ago. Her hair, an eloquent mixture of red and brown hues, was artfully tied into a high bun, creating an alluring and contrasting image as she stood beside Ereveusal, who was a head taller than her.

Their Tokolev Type-III stave rifles hung on their shoulders as they gazed at the nighttime scenery, with the city of Fjodrieleth visible thanks to the warm lights emanating from the plethora of windows.

“You realized that just now?” Ereveusal chuckled, as it was well-known among their division that Hene hated the undead passionately. So much so that whenever a mission came up to take down an upstart necromancer, she would bail out, convincing a fellow Sister with honeyed words. Just like she had done with Maervad.

“At least the pay is good this time.” Maervad added, letting out a sigh as she massaged her temples.

“And we don’t have to be in the fatty’s presence.” Ereveusal added, and the two sighed as they recalled the stench of Greuril Arradirlun. Compared to other races, including orcs, dwarves tended to bathe very rarely. Their belief in hard work through the ages resulted in the practice of leaving dirt and sweat on their bodies for days. As the saying goes amongst them, clean dwarves are good-for-nothing dwarves.

“Well, I still hope this mission ends sooner. And not just because of him.” Maervad stretched her arms, slightly curving her well-honed, nimble elven body, the dragonid faux leather stretching echoing not too far in the mountainside. Greuril Arradirlun had hired the Black Roses for a simple mission to accompany him as he searched for the relic of an ancient elven mage, crafted by his ancestors thousands of years ago during the Second Demonic Crusade.

“Do you know what he is searching for in this accursed place?” Maervad then asked, looking back at the arch leading into the ruins built into the side of the mountain. Just like the relic, this place had also been lost to the ages, now only referred to as The Nameless Catacombs—a vast labyrinthian complex that was said to stretch deep into the underworld.

“Some ancient relic his family helped create. According to him, it grants the wishes of the user. But that is bogus if you ask me.” Ereveusal answered, sitting down at the edge and lightly swinging her legs above the dark depths.

“Why?” Maervad asked in a rather childish manner, looking down at her. The flames behind them bathed her copper-toned gorgeous face in a warm hue.

“Because mortals, even including the Black Rose herself, can’t produce such artifacts. Only the Gods and similar entities can dummy.” Ereveusal looked up at her as she answered, her menacing dark eyes piercing into her.

“Oh yeah. I guess that makes sense.” Maervad said with a blank stare, scratching her temples under her thick hair pulled backward.

“What was that?” As a comforting, but also eerie silence settled on the ancient marble plateau and the fires extinguished behind them, the sound of stone falling into the depths below reached their sharp ears.

“Let’s check it out.” Maervad leaped up, her stave rifle already in hand. “Though I hope its not another undead.” Then she added with a slightly dejected look.

“Seems Myelia has just smiled upon us.” A wicked smirk curved onto Ereveusal's wide, glistening dark lips as she gazed upon the fair-skinned man pulling himself over the ledge.

 His brownish hair was cut short, hidden under a fedora. His chest was covered in glistening hair as it peeked out from his once-white shirt with shorter folded collars under a harsh leather jacket of an earthy brown hue. His pants were adorned with a black leather belt possessing a scaly surface, as if it had been torn off from a black dragon. Attached to it were several small pouches oozing with arcane energies.

In his right hand, he gripped a whip, his tired deep azure eyes staring at the two elven beauties aiming their weapons at him. There was a defeated, yet still haughty look on his ruggedly handsome face, ornamented with a well-groomed stubble beard.

“Doesn’t he look familiar to him?” Maervad kept her eyes on him, tilting slightly back and asking her Sister.

“Yngvar Langelaitan himself. Arradirlun warned that he may show up.” Ereveusal added, quickly recognizing Yngvar's face from a picture provided to them during her briefing.

“We’re truly lucky then.” Maervad said with a joyous tone as she already anticipated a bit of extra pay for this mission. "Secure him." Ereveusal added, and Maervad complied with a nod, slowly releasing her stave rifle while reaching into her pouch with expanded space. However, before she could act, a groan reached her ears, followed by Ereveusal falling onto the marble floor covered in ash blown there by the gentle mountain winds.

“Shi..guah” Maervad let out a yell that echoed along the mountainside as Yngvar's whip wrapped around her collar-covered neck, pulling all three of them together as she was yanked onto her back. "Took you long enough!" Yngvar said to his Umbryon partner, Elianisstria.

“Well, I was hoping to see you cuffed, but it would have taken too long for this two.” She added with a smug expression on her gorgeous face, a mixture of elven and devilish features dyed in an albino white hue. The wind gently breezed through her tousled hair as she parted her fringe to the right, exposing the flat base of her horns, while rolling the unconscious Ereveusal onto her side, searching through her pockets and pouches.

“Hide them first before another patrol arrives.” Yngvar instructed as he grabbed the unconscious Maervad. The two quickly carried them inside a dimly lit, long corridor wide enough to fit multiple people side by side. "There." He pointed at an arched doorway made of heavy, precisely crafted stone pieces, with a decaying sign carved into it.

“Keep an eye out while I’m changing.” Elianisstria ordered him after they had relieved the Black Roses of their weapons and pouches. Without saying a word, Yngvar rushed to the entrance and applied an invisible wall to it, keeping all sounds inside while maintaining the illusion of an empty, dim crypt.

“Let’s see what the Goddess have graced you with Sister.” Elianisstria said, tying up Maervad and gagging her with a piece of special cloth doused in the same special tar used for sealing tape. She then walked over to Ereveusal, rolling her onto her back and sitting on top of her. She swiftly unzipped Ereveusal's Hirdrian Type-III jacket, causing a momentary blur as the snow silvery satin walls reflected the glistening zipper of her catsuit.

Once her vision cleared, Elianisstria removed Ereveusal's jacket, followed by her sleeveless corset vest. Ereveusal moaned slightly as Elianisstria fondled her prominent elven breasts, restrained by her bra and metallic silver blouse.

“Hurry up.” Yngvar's words prompted Elianisstria to make a playful, sour face before quickly unbuttoning the blouse to reveal the black velvety bra holding them tight. The rest of Ereveusal's clothing was stripped off in no time.

“No, no. Keep watch while I secure him darling.” Yngvar turned around upon hearing the sound of combat boots being thrown away, signaling that Elianisstria had finished undressing. As she stood with her hands on her hips, she instructed him to stay back, her face clouded with playful anger.

Being sure that his gaze remained fixed on the corridor, Elianisstria grabbed the uniforms that were lying beside the partially naked Ereveusal and placed them on the large marble coffin rising from the ground. She rolled Ereveusal onto her side and gently bent her arms behind her back, crossing her wrists before securing them with two mana ties, one horizontal and one vertical. She then retrieved a few rolls of enchanted brown ropes, quickly looping and knotting them around Ereveusal's porcelain white ankles and thighs, which were as hard as brick due to centuries of training.

Finally, she fetched a silken cloth with a smooth, gleaming dark surface that possessed an almost leather-like texture. With a tight knot in the back, Ereveusal let out a muffled moan as the gag tightened.

With elegant movements, Elianisstria gracefully wriggled out of her catsuit and slipped into the Black Rose’s Hirdriar uniform, which quickly adjusted to fit her perfectly. Like those who had done the same before her, she let out a sigh akin to one of ecstasy as the soft materials embraced her smooth albino skin. She then retrieved two small disk-like devices from her personal void, attaching one to herself and activating the inscription inside the manufactured relic with her mana. The other was affixed to Ereveusal's neck, just below her tapered jawline.

Pouring a small amount of her mana into the device, the Faux Face activated, causing a slim metallic liquid to pour out from her own disk. It enveloped her face, gracefully covering what remains of her horns before spreading down her body, ultimately concealing her entire form beneath the uniform. For a brief moment, she appeared as a metallic silver mannequin before her features transformed into an exact replica of Ereveusal.

“Not bad.” Yngvid commented as he gazed upon her fully disguised form.

"It better be. We paid a lot for this." She replied, grabbing the bound and gagged Maervad and placing her beside Ereveusal. The umbral elven maiden moaned softly as her bare shoulders touched Maervad's dragonid faux leather jacket, instinctively leaning on her as if she were a soft, leathery cushion.

“Well then darling, good luck!” Elianisstria approached Yngvid, wrapping her arms around his thick waist as their lips met in a gentle embrace before they parted ways, venturing further into the ancient ruins.