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Battle for the Valley Part 1 For HandofBlades By Draconicon

"The Imperial demons come."

They were not real demons, of course. Argo had fought real demons, and he had the scars to prove it. They were enemies that were dangerous, beyond deadly, and these creatures were not demons. But they were demonic in the way that they marched between the hills, moving closer and closer to his position.

Monsters, the lot of them, he thought, glaring at the block of leather and greenstone that moved around the hilltops. But they'll be slain, like any beast. This valley is ours. This valley is MINE.

He threw his cloak over his shoulder, the pelt of a long-dead lion - a rival chieftain, not a feral - hanging over his arm. The wolf lifted the greenstone club at his side, the chunky thing big enough to break the wrist of any normal warrior. For him, it was a sign of power as much as his stature was. That much greenstone was guaranteed to smash someone physically, as well as sexually.

As he slammed it down on his shoulder, he grunted from its weight and from the pleasure that oozed through the leather armor that he wore on his shoulder. Even with the barriers between him and the stone, his cock jumped, pushing forward into the open air. Another unsheathed weapon, another way to claim those that were trying to take his land.

Thumps, groans, moans, and growls filled the air around him as the warriors of a dozen tribes drew their weapons with him. Taps, smacks, samples of the greenstone weapons spread through his army, and men and women alike growled and howled with their awakened need.

"They come to take our lands!" Argo shouted at the top of his lungs. "They come to pillage our forests, kill our herds, burn our villages and take us for their toys. I say, let them play with themselves, if they're so incapable of seizing partners in their own lands!"

The army cheered behind him, his warriors thrusting their weapons forward, some of them within inches of touching him. None dared, though. None would touch Argo the Insatiable, not now, and not in times of peace, either.

And soon, you will learn your place...

He looked at the battlefield, a smirk riding his muzzle. These hills formed the bottleneck that controlled access to the valley. Not only had these Imperial demons come without the greater numbers, but they were in the low ground, marching towards their destruction. The fires on the hills were obvious, a blatant display of his people warning their enemies of their strength, but still, the fools came on.

"You can't underestimate them."

Argo snarled under his breath, turning to look at the woman at his side. The female fox was from one of the tribes further in the valley, on the north side, far from the battlefield. They had only recently been brought under his banner, and he still wasn't entirely sure that he trusted her. All he knew was that she was willing to fight without having to be conquered, and considering that they didn't have time...

But then she would say things like that, and he couldn't let that go unchallenged.

"They're hopeless. They've got the low ground, and we've got the numbers," he said, sweeping his arm out. "Hundreds, thousands to their little block of men down there."

"That's true...but they've conquered everywhere else. I've heard the rumors. The ships come by the north, sometimes. They have power."

"Ha! Power against your tribe, perhaps, but not against all of us. They die tonight."

The wind roared, picking up as the smaller army approached. Argo had been looking forward to this for weeks, ever since he heard the conflict was coming. Sure, they had lost in a few skirmishes against the army while it was making its way north, but they had never had such a grand advantage as this. Numbers, positions, timing. Their warriors were armed with the purest greenstone ever found, and it would be more than enough to handle these...people.

Argo thrust his club in the air, and the screams of his people roared in his ears. The setting sun lit their weapons like torches, reflecting hundreds of beams of green light down at the approaching formation.

"On your head be it, Argo..."

The vixen's words were enough to grab his attention again, and he whipped around, grabbing her by the throat. She gasped, the sudden breath enough to drag one of her breasts out of her barely-there leathers. She grabbed his wrists, a greenstone ring tapping him. It was small, too small for an orgasm, but it raised both their libidos.

He growled as he pulled her in, holding her a half-foot off the ground, her legs kicking as he strangled her, his cock grinding against her thighs as she tried to kick him.

"On my head be our victory. On your hesitation be our failure."

"I'm just...saying..."

"If you're so cowardly, you can lead the first charge."

He threw her away, and she skidded to a halt a few paces back. Her foxes jumped to their feet, almost ready to rush him, but she threw out her hand, stopping them. Half-naked, one breast knocked free from its covering, she still had their respect.

He smirked at them, taking his free hand and groping his knot. The gesture was exactly what it seemed like. If they wanted to challenge him, they were free to, but they knew what the consequence would be. Whether they had time or not, he would put them in their place.

Slowly, the female got to her feet. Chief Feni fanned out her fingers, tapping her claws to each of the little blunted greenstone knives at her hips. Not to draw, he knew; she wasn't that stupid. But she was tempted.

"I will lead the first wave...but remember what I told you..."

"Oh, I'll remember. When you're sitting on your new, living throne, you can thank me that I let you have this honor."

She shook her head, but it was done. Feni and her foxes stepped forward, making their way to the edge of their hill. Argo lifted his club, and on the hill opposite, a wave of coyotes stepped forward, holding spears and snarling as if they were wilder than the beasts that they hunted.

The army of the Imperials stopped just before the full bottleneck, and the square formation turned, half of the soldiers facing Argo's hill, half of them facing the other. Whoever their commander was, they had decided to hold back rather than force their way forward.

Fine. Argo could smash them there as well as anywhere else. He waved his club through the air and howled, and his warriors charged.

The coyotes rushed down the hill faster than the foxes, throwing themselves into the fray with leaps and bounds. Their line collapsed almost instantly, any sign of formation or unity breaking down as soon as they started moving. They used their spears to throw themselves forward, each warrior trying to get the lead on his fellows.

The foxes, on the other hand, darted forward, slowed, then darted forward again, as if Feni was thinking that she might be able to fool them. He rolled his eyes. More and more, he was considering them nothing but an expendable first wave.

At least they will trim the numbers.

Argo watched the coyotes with approval. Their ferocity should tear right through them. The Imperials were just standing there, waiting. There was no defense against greenstone. One good hit -

The coyotes struck, alright, and the first line the soldiers went down. The power of the greenstone weapons sent them to their knees, cum spurting and pussies squirting. Argo waited for the coyotes to leap forward, to take their prize, but that didn't happen.

Argo stared, wide-eyed, as the line just behind the first stabbed forward, using their own, shorter weapons to knock the coyotes back. The front line managed to catch the spears as they were dropped, and the Imperial soldiers were suddenly armed with longer weapons. They were clumsy, yes, but they had disarmed the first rank, forced the coyotes back. Those that were able to run, that was.

"Those weaklings!" Argo growled in his throat. "They should have decimated the front ranks..."

Instead, they were being impaled on their own spears, and as the greenstone was shoved up their rumps, the coyotes collapsed. They screamed in pleasure, howling like true beasts, and then fell flat on their faces, pumping out their energy and their pleasure onto the fields below.

It was humiliating to see the warriors of a tribe rendered so useless. He had expected better from them.

Worse was the fact that Feni's force was having better luck. Either they'd seen what had happened with the coyotes or they had guessed - and the latter rankled far more - because they were attacking from range. Throwing 'daggers', slung stones, and more were tossed down at the front line, and while they were not doing the same damage as a direct attack, they were drawing the weaker-willed of the front line forward.

Argo would have given anything to see the army split as the coyotes retreated. At least then that defeat would have been good for something, opening up a path to split the two parts from each other. Instead, they held firm, the center lines back to back and not showing any gaps or weakness.

"Fuck it..."

The brown-furred wolf stepped forward, waving his club in the air again. His warriors came to him, and they howled as they followed him down the hill. If they couldn't break the enemy line, then he would.

"Out of the way! Argo comes!"

The foxes turned, and as one, they darted to the sides. They were useless, little more than skirmishers. He would show them how this was done.

The Imperial soldiers clustered together, forming a thicker, more pointed wall to meet him and his wolves. It didn't matter. Argo was there, and Argo was invincible.

With a roar and howl, his club came down, and the blow brought a handful of the enemy to their knees. Species of all sorts trembled, crumbled, and came, their seed painting the ground before him. The power of greenstone could not be denied; none of them could resist it.

He swung left, right, center, clearing a path forward. The disciplined ranks pushed back against him, trying to seal him in, but he was the Insatiable. Such numbers meant nothing.

Yet, as he charged forward, he was aware that something was off. Something...something was wrong.

They're falling too easily.

Argo cleared his space with another swing of his club, turning his head. The Imperial soldiers were falling back, alright, most of them even falling under the blows of the greenstone, but they fell back in a way that opened a hole for him and his wolves to run into. Already, the other soldiers were closing around them, forming a circle that would trap them inside.

Are they fighters or a river?!

Snarling, Argo swung his club over his shoulder, slamming the end of the great weapon into the chest of a horse that was coming at him from behind. The horse went down hard, hitting the ground and arching his back, a stiff, flared cock thrusting up into the air. As the horse came, hard, the wolf stood on him, toes sinking into leathery balls as he held his weapon overhead.

"Come at me! I am Argo, the Insatiable! None can stand against me!"

The wolf was hit with three successive strikes with Imperial weapons, each greenstone strike sending a thrill of pleasure through him. His already-hard cock throbbed in the evening air, dripping by the second strike and knotted hard by the third.

With a half-mad howl of laughter, he laid into them again, swinging his club about and knocking them left and right, sending some to the ground and some into the air. The soldiers came at him from all sides, but he was fast, strong, and powerful beyond their measly tricks.

He wished only that he had the time to take the ones that he defeated. He saw them falling by the handful, his fights bringing cocks to the fore and pussies to the edge. The pure greenstone that he carried, his great weapon, was sufficient to bring any to the edge instantly, while their weapons...

Argo would have laughed if he had been completely sane in that moment. Their weapons were weak, pitiful compared to the 'stone of the valley. It affected him, yes, but not as much as they wanted.

Another swing, and a cow-woman hit the ground, squirting from her breasts and her sex all at once, her generous curves quivering.

Another swing, and a rat slumped forward, his balls drenching the earth and shrinking to a third of their size.

Another, and another, and another...

And then, he was surrounded.

Argo panted as he stood in the exact center of the Imperial army, spears and flat swords and more lowered in his direction. Dozens, perhaps hundreds of weapons locked on him, a warning that they would bring him down if he kept fighting.

He turned slowly, looking back the way he'd come. The hole that he'd carved in their lines had already closed behind him, and the wolves that had run down the hill to fight with him had been captured, led away from the battlefield. How, he didn't know, but somehow, they'd been stopped.

His lion's pelt had been stripped from him in the fighting, and Argo snarled deep down in his chest as he realized just how far he'd pushed and how little he had accomplished. The Imperial demons had tricked him, allowed him to cut off his own retreat.

Damn them...damn them!

One of the officers, a snake-woman, stepped forward. Her forked tongue flickered in and out of her mouth as she looked him over, and her bare breasts - all of the women in this army seemed to bare them through holes in their armor, he realized, just as all the males seemed to force their cocks out through other holes - seemed to stiffen slightly. The wolf smirked; even now, she was aroused at the sight of him.

"You will surrender if you wish a chance to negotiate," the serpent woman hissed, her long tail curling towards her ankles. "Otherwise, you will be removed."

"No one can stop the Insatiable."

"I think we just did."

"I will not surrender."

One spear stabbed at the base of his spine, and the brown wolf growled in the depths of his throat, even as a moan came up against it. His cock jerked, twitching, spasming, the knot swelling further. His balls felt swollen beyond belief, and he knew that was due to the many blows that he had received over the course of the battle. A dozen, two dozen. It should have been enough to take him over the edge, but no. He had held out, he had fought it down, and now...

Now, he was facing something worse, in a way. His body was shaking, the repressed desire struggling to be expressed. If he didn't find something soon...

They would do. He lifted his club to the skies once more.

"I am Argo! I do not surrender! And I will take you before you take me!"

"Have it your way. Soldiers! A - Nnngh!"

The snake-woman gasped, cupping the side of her neck as her nipples went hard as rocks, her pussy suddenly swelling, puffing, and her clit jumping in out of its hood. She thrust her hips twice, then collapsed to her knees, moaning as she came.

Thunk-thunk-thunk. More and more impacts came, greenstone pebbles slung through the air and hitting the soldiers nearest to him. As the imperial soldiers collapsed, Feni appeared, the vixen popping out of nowhere.

"Come on!"

She pulled at his hand, and he didn't bother asking. He just ran with her, sweeping his great club everywhere that he could, clearing the path for them from those that got wise to the attack from above.

They broke through, returning to the hills and climbing them, rushing up towards the tops. The army did not pursue them. Instead, the Imperials moved forward, pushing through the bottleneck while the tribal warriors were forced to take count and re-plan.

He glared at the shifting ranks of the Imperial army, growling again. Feni let go of him as soon as they reached the top of the hills, and he shook his head.

"What happened? Why did we fail?"

"Because they were ready for that," she said. "I told you not to underestimate them."

"We have better greenstone! We saw it!"

"But they are better soldiers."

"That doesn't mean anything! They should have been flat on their backs, free for the claiming."

"Why?"

"Because we have better greenstone!"

He had seen it. Each strike from their weapons had broken a soldier, knocking them to their knees or even to their backs. There was no getting around that. He had seen it. So how were the ranks of the southern soldiers able to push them back? It should have been simplicity itself to take them down, particularly as their weapons weren't as effective on his warriors.

It didn't matter. They still had the numbers, even if they'd lost the superior position.

"How many did we lose?"

"More than you want to know."

"How many?!"

"Thirty wolves, five foxes, sixty coyotes."

Nearly a hundred men, and from what he could see, not one imperial captive had been taken. Even in the counterattack that Feni had mounted, they'd been more concerned with getting him out of the enemy ranks than they were with taking some of the soldiers prisoner as slaves, or bargaining tools.

It wasn't the situation that he would have preferred, that was for sure. Their first attack had gone nearly as bad as one could have imagined, and far worse than what he had imagined. He thought that they had a chance to win right off the bat, and now...

Now, the enemy was in the valley proper, and it was going to be that much harder to dig them out.

Argo howled into the night, swinging his club up and north. The various leaders under him started pulling their tribes together, moving them along, and the remaining wolves under him - still just over a hundred - were on his heels, moving along the hilltops past the bottleneck.

There are other places to fight them, other places to bring them low. This was just the first.

He wanted to tell Feni to fuck off as the vixen and her people followed him, but considering the foxes had lost the fewest during the battle - only five of their eighty men - they were still a powerful ally. He needed to keep them close, and if he did not, then he would risk the departure of other members of his little coalition. And if they started falling apart, there was no telling what would happen when they finally caught up with the Imperial demons again.

He needed all of them. They had just proven that something was wrong. He needed to figure out what.

The night passed, and morning came. Through the night, they'd run to keep ahead of the Imperials. Their advantage was speed, knowing the land, though Feni seemed to disagree with him again. She told him that they were still fighting a losing battle, and it would be better to realize that now and come to terms with their inevitable defeat than it was to keep trying to break down the enemy army.

He was starting to wonder if she wanted them to win at all, but considering that she'd saved him from the enemy army, there had to be something else going on, something else that would make more sense.

For now, he had to trust her. He didn't have another choice.

The army had gathered again at the southern river crossing. Two bridges were all that would allow the army to push forward into the rest of the valley, and in a way, this was a better bottleneck than the last one. The river was too fast for one to swim across, and so if they could hold the bridges, they could throw the enemy over it, sending them washing away downstream, making it impossible for them to cross and take any further ground.

This time, he wouldn't make the same mistake. He'd ordered Feni to hold the far side of the river, her slingers and chuckers and the few bowmen that they had ready to rain greenstone down on the oncoming soldiers. Thus weakened, they'd be easy prey for the wolves on one bridge and the plethora of species on the other. It would ensure that they all lived through this...and brought home plenty of slaves.

His cock stirred in his sheath as he watched the forest just south of his bridge. The road split as it left the woods, one branch heading to the bridge half a mile south on the winding river, the other leading to him. It was a distance of perhaps two miles, two miles in open terrain.

If things hadn't gone so badly the night before, he'd have his warriors meet them in open battle, but until he knew what was going on...

Well, better to let them come to him. They might have resisted his line-breaking, but they wouldn't be able to break his lines.

He clenched his hand ever tighter around his club, feeling the greenstone pulsing against him. The power of the pleasurable material already had him rock hard, and he groped his knot with his other hand, feeling it throbbing ever stiffer as he kept squeezing the damn club. If he didn't stop soon, he'd cum from his own weapon, but he was angry enough that he didn't entirely care.

Come to me. I'll repay last night's humiliation ten-fold.

The enemy army finally pushed out from under the trees, and he watched as they crossed the field. Leather-legged, leather-armed men and women, each with their bits out and in the open, each one shameless in their formation. The front ranks had people groping at one another, almost like they were giving themselves a handicap for the upcoming fight.

He wanted to hurt them for that. He wanted to break them for the flagrant display of how unworried they were.

And he would. As soon as they came close.

He expected them to split, to send part of their forces to each bridge, but instead, they kept together. They moved towards his, their formation never shifting. He looked back at Feni, the vixen looking more than slightly uncomfortable about the whole thing. Her hands were filled with the greenstone pebbles that she was ready to launch, but she didn't look like she was feeling very confident.

Why? Why did she fear them so much when they were just intruders? There was nothing so fearsome about them that could not be overcome.

What does she know that I don't?

He shook his head, turning back to the army coming their way. The front ranks were not the intimidating soldiers that he had seen in the front the day before. This time, they were mice, rats, rodents that looked like they'd barely be able to hold their own against a bandit, let alone one of his warriors.

This would be over before it started.

"Ready!"

He raised his arm, and the sound of pebbles clinking and soft groans and moans filled the air. This was going to be a rout for the Imperials, he had decided. He was going to repay them their humiliation, alright, and he was going to do it in a way that they would remember for generations.

The soldiers kept coming. A mile away, then half a mile. At a quarter, they picked up the pace, jogging down the road as their formation narrowed, the mice and rodents at the front forming a tight triangle that was aimed right for the base of the bridge.

"Aim!"

They were close now, almost at the foot of the bridge. It wasn't until the first foot hit the first stone that he dropped his arm.

"Loose!"

The pebbles went flying, and they slapped and stung the rodents in the front rank. The rats were first, hitting the ground and falling on their hands and knees. Their cum spurted all over the stones, slicking them in a wave of white.

Then, the mice followed. They leaped onto the backs of their bigger brethren, then used that height to fling themselves forward, charging the front lines of the wolf pack.

It was a rout, alright. The mice jumped right into the weapons of the wolves, and most were still spasming as they were thrown off the bridge, carried under it. Argo laughed as the futile attack was completely dispatched, his men moving forward to seize the rats.

More than one wolf grabbed a rat and threw them to the side, standing on a cock or a pussy depending on the gender of the soldier in question. They pinned them in place, holding their weapon challengingly towards the remaining soldiers, laughing.

And yet...the Imperial army didn't advance. Not for their men, and not to attack. Argo's grin slowly dropped, realizing that something had gone wrong. This wasn't a stand-off where the enemy realized that they couldn't win. This was something...

He looked at the rats that were pinned down, and saw that they were, to a one, grinning like mad. Like they'd just pulled off some sort of trick. Like -

"AH!"

The brown wolf whipped his head around, his eyes going wide as he saw the ranks of the foxes folding, the mice billowing out from under the bridge and attacking from below. Twenty, thirty of them were suddenly on the other side of the bridge, their surprise attack taking out half the foxes before anyone even knew they were there.

A pincer attack?!

"Charge!"

Argo whipped his head back to the front ranks of the army. The horses and bulls and cows and bigger species had shifted places, taking the front ranks and charging. Clubs and swords that were as big as feral cocks were bared towards his wolves, and the battle-lines clashed, this time without any ranged support on his end.

Feni grabbed at him, shaking her head.

"We have to retreat!"

"Again?!"

"Before we're pinned, yes!"

"...ARGH!"

He howled a retreat, one that would be heard down at the other bridge. At least they could scuttle that before they ran further. He turned, swinging his club, and the mice that stood before him were battered left and right, sent flying through the air into the river once more as their seed spurted through the air.

Other howls came after, his wolves fighting and failing to hold. He glanced over his shoulder, saw the rats jumping to their feet again, 'stabbing' the wolves in the back. Argo half-turned, wanting to take the fight back, but Feni pressed against his back, her breasts flattened against him.

"Run today, fight tomorrow!"

Already, the collars and cock rings were coming out. Leather bands to mark a prisoner's neck, brass rings to mark their cocks. Female wolves were pinned, their pussies stuffed with greenstone to keep them docile, males with their asses likewise plugged.

He wanted to turn and save them, but he knew that right at that point, it would be all he could do to save himself.

So, he ran. And he ran. And he ran.

Once more, they were ahead of the Imperial army, but this time, he had no idea for how long. They were keeping their distance from the enemy, but whether that would serve them in the long run...

Argo glared down at the map that one of his warriors had been able to snare. The squirrel bitch was one of the scouts that he had, one of the few remaining that could have kept up with the wolves as they loped around the valley.

He still wanted to scream at the loss of so many of his people. Thirty the first night, another fifty the next morning. He was down to less than sixty, now, less than half of the mighty force that he had ruled, which had propelled him to be the greatest chief in the valley. Now, he had fewer men than half the tribes in the coalition, and who knew how long that would last now?

The map was not helpful. They had lost at two of their most favorable battlefields. The next three chances to fight were all in open areas, and while that should have favored their numbers, the Imperials kept surprising him with their resilience. The greenstone should have been enough to take them down and keep them down. Instead, it seemed barely enough to knock them off their feet.

Why? Why was everything failing?

Someone walked up behind him, and the brown wolf glared, his ears flicking as he looked at the campfire before him.

"Who is it?"

"Feni."

"Why are you here?"

"I brought you something."

Giving the map one more glare, he slowly turned around.

The vixen chieftain had one of the Imperials in her grip, pulling on a rope attached to two greenstone clamps on the mare's tits. She pulled on them, and the mare came right then and there, squirting her juices onto the earth.

"When did you catch her?"

"She was on a scouting mission, seeing what lay ahead. I caught her before she could run off."

"At least you're good for something. Does she know anything?"

"Nothing about their plans, but I did find something out. If I may?"

She gestured at his club. Argo hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

The vixen led the mare over to the weapon, and then pointed at it. The Imperial shrugged, lifting one leg and bringing a bare foot down on the green surface.

No sooner was contact made than the mare came hard, her body spasming, her legs shaking, her eyes rolling back in her head. The explosion of lust was enough to reach the fire and almost put it out, the raw stink of mare juices and the thick smell of sex enough to make the wolf's cock go hard.

The mare fell, hitting the ground, as she should. It would have been enough to leave her out for the count, gasping, her legs spread and waiting for more. Or at least...that's what should have happened.

Instead, the mare took three or four deep breaths, then got back to her feet. Argo's eyes went wide. There was no sign of the dryness down between her legs that would normally have happened if a person was merely resistant or one of those that practiced orders of chastity. Instead, it was like the mare had barely gotten a portion of what she wanted.

"What the hell?"

"I don't understand either, chief Argo. But...she might be able to explain it."

The vixen offered him the ropes for the greenstone clamps, and he took them. A harsh tug, and the mare fell to her knees before him.

"You will explain everything, woman...and then, you will be used. But not until I know everything."

The End