Harry strode lustfully down the castle steps, it had been a blisteringly hot day, and the warmth from the twin suns of Golgotha had heated the granite bricks of the castle. Harry patted these bricks tenderly as he neared his target, his destination. The desert wastelands of the Cha-Cha Ka still burnt his throat, the piercing sand had penetrated his eyes and lungs impregnating them with a heavy and loaded feeling. But now the time had to come to cast aside this burden, unleash the frustration, and empty himself of his load within. As he neared the Kitchen rooms, he quickly cast aside his mighty armour, letting it fall heavily to the floor, the loud clang of the powerful metal sounded like a bell tolling a joyous occasion, and for Strum the serving wench it soon would be.
Kicking down the sturdy oak door, and entering the doorway, pausing at the opening. He stood arms on hips, his now tanned and rippling body with legs astride, only a skimpy loincloth now covered his heroic masculinity. Strum instantly dropped the bowl of cream she had been heavily whipping.
"Oooohhh, me gawds me lord, such a fright for lass. But oh I see by your rising valour, there's more than me cakes you'll be after".
"On the contrary wench, I'd very much like your cakes, its what you serve them off that interests me." Harry quipped.
"Heeeeeeeee, Oh sire you are a naughty one. Bless me," Strum gasped in amazement, "but that'll be the loincloth of Nathander, made from the eyelid of the dragon Gugamanda. They say it brings the wearer, ohhhhhhhh, heeeeee, oh you know". Strum tilted her head in the right direction with hungry eyes. "Ohhhhhh you know".
A knowing wink and a flick of a tongue was enough for Harry to know she knew all right, and he also knew she was about to get first hand experience of it.
"Everybody knows, we all know, it gives the wearer the sexual prowess of a Nchacha rabbit-beast".
Strum threw her arms across the table clearing it, wiping it clean, in the same provocative movement she leapt head first onto the table, landing fortuitously on the bowl of cream.
"Oh look me lord, am all dirty now. Oh sire, use me, use me, use me body like a conduit for your sexual energy."
Harry's buttocks rippled in excitement.
"Shut it wench", he said through gritted teeth. As he paced towards her, electric surges ran through his body, lingering in his loincloth. "Right now, I'm supposed to be brokering peace talks with the warring tribes of the Ealmon provence" he admitted.
"Oh sire, broker me instead" Strum said as she licked her lips in eager expectation.
"My head says no and reminds me of my duty, but wench lucky for you, my heart and more importantly my hips cry, forward onward and foreverthrusting."
Suddenly there was a cry from the doorway. "O Harry, Lord of Alzon and Keeper of the Third Way!"
Harry turned around in angry astonishment, spittle flying from his lips. "What is it, knave, that you must disturb Harry, Lord of Alzon and Keeper of the Third Way, so? Speak, before I cleave your head in twain!" He whipped out his weapon and stood before the intruder, pointing it at him provocatively.
The intruder, a white-faced serving boy, cast his eyes on the deadly article thrust towards him and gulped. "O mighty Harry, I have been ordered by the King of Runes and the First Circle of Aldoron to grant unto you this title - Asgarth, Lord of the Five Maidens!" He held towards Harry a medallion of purest gold from the dwarven mines of Khan-tok in the Misty Peaks.
Harry took the medallion and sheathed his mighty weapon. "So," he growled, "the Lord of the Five Maidens has been slain. And I am to take his title, and his many wives? So be it!" He hung the medallion around his neck, where it glittered on his broad chest.
Strum sighed in admiration. "Oh, Harry!"
"Enough, wench!" he mouthed. "I am Harry no more. I am now Asgarth the Invincible!" Once again he unsheathed his weapon and swished its mighty length around the room, laughing in satisfaction. The servant boy ran away, screaming in awe and terror.
Suddenly he clutched at his throat and fell to the floor, groaning. "But what is this?" he groaned. "Some strange power has me in its power! I am powerless to resist! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh."
He rolled on the floor in agony, and Strum grabbed him with her milk-white hands that were as soft and warm as the fleece on a newborn lamb. "Oh, mighty Asgarth, "she spouted, "what has become of you?"
"I see a vision!" he cried, sweat pouring from his face. His eyes bulged like the muscles that rippled and tensed along his powerful arms, now powerless in the throes of insanity. "I see - my family!" he expatiated. "No - no - no!!!!!"
He threw Strum from him and rose to his feet, holding his head in his giant, shaking hands. "Noooo!" he whispered, and clutched his weapon with determination. "My family have been killed by the evil Lord of Darkness - the Snake-King, Zargog the Virulent!"
"Asgarth,"spluttered Strum, her bodice straining to contain her ample bosom, "don't leave! I still need your mighty manliness to satisfy my insatiable lust."
"No, I must go," growled Asgarth. "My family have been killed. They must be avenged. There is only one thing that can save the Kingdom of Elron now."
"And what," breathed Strum, "is that?"
"It is in the distant land of Azorelia, beyond the Wastes of Cha-Cha Ka. It is the Shining Magic Thing."
"But no such thing exists, to be sure!" sighed Strum.
"Aye, it does," descanted Asgarth. "And now I must follow my destiny!"
He strode heroically from the room, his mighty weapon held firmly before him, ready to dash asunder all those who were foolish enough to oppose him.
