YES KING, SLAY! Decreed by V
“All kings is mostly rapscallions.”
“If you eat ass, you’ll never
-King Barric Ironstrom
The coronation of Barric Arthur Cornelius Ironstorm the Fifth
(I’d rather be fucking orcs and getting drunk)
Somewhere, in another world, not that long ago, but just long enough ago it could be referred to in the past tense, was a kingdom. The kingdom sat at the southernmost part of the continent known as Siriuhs, where the weather was always warm, the crops were always growing, and it felt like the sun was always shining. To the people that lived there it was almost like paradise. This kingdom was not the biggest, nor the smallest. It did not have the largest army, nor the tiniest. It was not the oldest, nor the youngest, but already had its own histories and traditions.
This was the kingdom of Tameria. Or as its people affectionately called it,
Today was special in Ol’ Tameria, for the King would be retiring and his son, the Prince, would be named King today. Today, Prince Barric Arthur Cornelius Ironstorm the Fifth would become King Barric Arthur Cornelius Ironstorm the Fifth! If he could only show up on time...
“Layla, my dear! Have you seen Barric? We are waiting on him to start the ceremonies,” the Queen asked the tall elf girl.
“No, my Queen, but it would be just like him to be late to his own coronation, would it not?” She replied casually to the Queen.
The Queen giggled for a moment as the King approached through the crowded throne room.
“Layla! Good to see you as always. Have you seen that rapscallion son of mine? I swear, ever since he returned from his latest campaign all he has done is laze about! We have more important things to get on with today, not to mention the rumors of some demon Princess in the north lands that need to be addressed!” The King commented.
“I have not sir. I’ll do my best to fetch him quickly, though. I have an idea of where he might be...” Layla the elf said.
“Thank you dear, for always keeping him in line all these years. I don’t know where he would be without a friend like you,” the Queen assured her.
“Aye, Layla, we are hoping you may be Queen of this land yet,” the King suggested.
Layla’s face and pointed ears turned red.
“Well I... He never seemed interested.” she admitted. “And besides, I’m just his adopted sister.”
“Barry! Can't you see you are embarrassing the poor girl?” The Queen said playfully to her husband.
“I’m just making suggestions, and do not call me that in front of guests!” He snapped back.
“I’ll take my leave to find Barric now!” Layla said, excusing herself from the King and Queen, still somewhat embarrassed.
Meanwhile in another part of the castle, the Prince stood tall over his older orc maid. He gazed down at her, admiring her as she fulfilled her duties on her knees.
“You always were skilled with your hands, but I think I admire your mouth more, Ograna!” The Prince commented.
She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow as she continued to work.
The strong young man looked down at her, his deep tan skin and rippling physique on display from the lack of a shirt.
“Seeing you down on your knees like that brings back so many memories,” he flirted, staring down at his maid with bedroom eyes.
He flinched as pain shot up his leg from the orc stabbing him with a misplaced pin.
“Ha, my mistake sugar, it's just that you keep distracting me,” she teased back, trying her best to finish tailoring his pants for the coronation.
Barric the Prince sighed.
“You’re always so cruel. I’m to be the King today, I believe I deserve some sort of worship from my subject,” he suggested with a sly grin, showing off his sharp jawline and perfect teeth.
“Watch your mouth ‘littlen, or have you forgotten who was the one to really teach you how to be a man?” She asked, grasping his inner thigh tightly.
The Prince stood up straighter as his tailored pants bulged with excitement.
“As you can see I long for you once more before I am king... Just to calm my nerves.” He assured her, flexing his best.
“Oh hush, you’re already late as is, besides what would your subjects think of their King chasing after his own maid? You better not lust-call this old maid once you are King, unless you plan on making an orc the Queen.” She told him, flicking the head of his bulging pants.
He flinched again.
“Ah! I knew your cruelties knew no bounds! As tempting as that may be, I think you would enjoy being Queen far more than I will enjoy being King.” He admitted.
“Oh? Not looking forward to your royal duties? Or any amount of responsibility, for that matter? Is that why you have been lazing about the castle and spending all your nights out with the local wenches since your return?” She asked.
“I don't believe being King is all it's made out to be. At least not for me. I enjoyed traveling during my military campaign, but battle... not so much. How am I supposed to travel when I will be looked upon to make all the decisions for my nation?” He asked, in a more serious tone now.
“Have you tried speaking to your father about this?” The orc asked.
“All the years of being King himself has made him bitter. He would not let anything stand in the way of his retirement, so he can laze about the castle just as he accused me of doing. So he would have me be King at only twenty one, just as he was. No matter, Ograna, I will find a way to make it entertaining.” He assured her with a mischievous grin.
“You always do.” She smiled, showing off her fanged mouth.
Just then, the doors to Barric’s chamber burst open as a disgruntled elf stepped into the room.
“Barric! You’re late! Your parents are waiting on you, and the entire throne room is full of guests!” She yelled before noticing the orc on her knees fixing his pants. “Oh hello Ograna, I don’t mean to rush you, but he is already running late.” She informed the maid calmly, her tone shifting instantly.
“W-what!” Why don’t you talk to me that way?” Barric complained.
“Because, she knows how you are, besides you are the one making this take so long.” Ograna commented.
“I guess this will have to do for now, just make sure that pin doesn't come loose.” The orc maid warned him, finally setting him loose.
“Thank you Ograna.” Layla said, tapping her foot at Barric. The Prince headed straight towards the door ready to face the crowd, but the elf stuck her hand out to block him.
“What are you doing! Put a shirt on!” She scolded him further, eyeing his strong body up and down.
“Fiiinneee.” He sighed, thinking he might have been able to get away with it.
Ograna handed him the fine royal shirt and jacket he always dreaded wearing.
It always felt far too restricting, uncomfortable, and no one was able to admire his impeccable body. What was the point of all that training if he could not show off the fruits of his labor? He thought. As if that weren’t bad enough, the orc swept back his long black hair and tied it off into a neat ponytail. Another restriction on his natural self that he hated. Layla looked him up and down and nodded.
“Look at that, you almost look presentable!” She commented, finally dragging him out of the room towards the throne room.
It didn’t take long for them to finally arrive in the throne room. As soon as they did the pair was met with a wall of noise.
“Presenting! Prince, Barric Arthur Cornelius Ironstorm the Fifth!” The master of ceremonies announced. The room erupted into applause as the Prince stood there awkwardly hunched, doing his best to hide his throbbing erection.
He gave a few waves as he waited for the applause to pass and made his way towards his parents.
“There’s the lad!” The King said, looking annoyed.
“Barric, darling, you’ve kept us all waiting! Are you ready?” She asked.
“Now? Like, right now, mom? Are we not going to have a feast or let father give a speech first?” He asked, the reality of this all finally dawning on him.
“Yes, now! We’ve only been waiting for you all day!” His father reminded him.
Barric looked to his mother, back to his father, and then to Layla as if she could somehow save him from this. Though it was his destiny, and destiny waited for no man, nor their erection. Nothing killed a strong boner faster than the realization of responsibility.
“Go on, Barric, it’ll be fine. We will all feast after. Besides, I’m sure the people will love you!” Layla assured him, doing her best to comfort him.
He wasn't concerned with any of that. He was sure his subjects would adore him. He was confident he could charm any boring noble, and woo any would-be suitors. The problem was, he just didn’t want this, any of it.
“Alright...” He told her. The King and Queen lead him up to the throne where his father had sat for so long and gestured to it, presenting it to him. He sat, awkwardly. He was always used to leaning back in a chair, or sitting leaned forward, man-spreading his widest. The stiff, stone throne forced him to sit straight up with strong posture. His mother, the Queen. handed him her golden scepter, and his father began to remove his crown.
“With this, Barric Arthur Cornelius Ironstorm the Fifth is now the King of Old Tameria!” His father announced, placing the crown on his son’s head.
The entire throne room erupted into applause once again.
People cheered and whistled chanting:
“Long live King Barric!”
Barric tried his best to smile for everyone but he couldn’t help but feel like his life was over. He looked down to see Layla at the front of the crowd clapping and genuinely proud of him for once.
This was it. No more traveling. No more chasing women all night, getting drunk with the boys at the tavern, pissing in people’s bushes, speaking improperly like the commoners. No more being himself... Barric. Now he was just the King.
It all seemed like the most underwhelming and inglorious end for him.
Only twenty one years old and his life was already over.
Barric was immediately snapped out of his dreadful thoughts as the massive double doors of the throne room burst open with such force they almost shattered against the wall.
The room's guests, the King, the Queen, and Layla all spun around at once to face what had caused the ruckus.
Now standing in the grand entrance was a man. A man in all black attire, with onyx hair against a pale face. He was slender, but exuded an aura of strength, though most of his upper body was hidden by a black poncho with white designs running all through it. If nothing else in his appearance gave away who or what he may have been, it was most assuredly the horns on his forehead that had been ground down to flat circles that told everyone that he was most certainly a demon.
The man looked about the throne room with his bright golden eyes shining behind large circular glasses before locking them on Barric. He made his way into the throne room, pausing at its center. The room was silent, as most of the nobles were shocked with fear. Layla stood in front of the King and Queen to protect them.
“Are you the King of this land?” The man asked with a surprisingly normal voice, still staring up at Barric on the throne.
Barric couldn't help but grin.
“I am now. Who would be asking?” He asked, hoping for an interesting answer.
“I am Sylas, the Messenger. I have traveled all the way here from the northern land of Nov’s-eve, stopping at every kingdom on the way to deliver a message to each of their kings.” Sylas, the demon explained.
“And what would that be?” Barric asked.
“I believe my Mistress can answer that more thoroughly.” Sylas replied, producing something from a satchel on his belt.
It appeared to be a black obsidian ball. He held it in his palm and focused on it for a moment until it appeared to be glowing a purple aura, he then tossed it onto the floor where it rolled for a few feet before coming to a halt.
Once still, the ball cast a huge hologram into the middle of the room.
“Sylas?... Is this thing on or did you satchel scry me again?” The hologram asked.
The woman in the illusion had her back to the King and everyone in the room as she addressed her servant. Even with the magic projection making her appear larger she didn’t seem very big... Nor threatening. All Barric could make out from behind was that she was a short, blond, demon woman with large twisting horns dressed in all black flowing robes.
Wow! She’s mad thicc with a banging donk and thighs that could trap even the most cunning rogue! Barric thought.
Sylas the demon sighed with embarrassment.
“You’re in another throne room Mistress, turn around.” He said, trying his best to whisper.
“Ah!” She replied. Even her voice was high pitched and unthreatening.
The woman spun around quickly to face the King and all the nobles in the room.
“Oh! There’s everyone!” She said as the background behind her erupted into flames. Her horns seemed to grow larger and sharper, her eyes burned red, her fangs now poked past her lips, and the tips of her fingers morphed into claws as she addressed the room, clearly trying her best.
“It is I, you filthy mortals! The demon Princess Be’elza Hecktae!” She announced, her voice had somehow become more mature and demonic. All of the nobles gasped, though Barric seemed unintimidated, craning his neck to try and get another look at her rocking ass.
“I will tell you as I have told every lord throughout this land. I come for you and your kingdom! As we speak, my army of monsters and demon girls moves across the land claiming every kingdom they come upon!” She informs them.
Barric raises an eyebrow at the mention of monster girls.
“Is that right?” He asks.
“Indeed! My army will be knocking at your gates within a year! So squabble amongst yourselves to make your decisions! Will you swear your loyalty to me and become my slaves, or be crushed by my forces? We will see soon enough!” She said with a final threat before dissipating. Sylas the demon collected the ball from the center of the floor before turning his back to the king.
Everyone looked to Barric now. Clearly they were expecting him to say something. Though it may not be what they had expected.
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