The Rogue Knight's great sword rose and fell with discipline and strength. A clang and crash echoed around the battlefield as he chipped away at the Dire tower, amid a wave of pitched combat. Sven was alone in the field for this instant, and it was his chance to breach the Dire citadel, and turn the tide of battle.

	Then the stillness of combat was broken by a sound. It was the thundering of ethereal hooves, crashing through the space between space. Sven knew it well, and knew he had overstayed his welcome. He bellowed out a warcry for haste, and dashed into the murky forest. Perhaps here he could find some salvation. If not, it would be a better place to stand and fight, as a true knight would.

	Barathrum the Spirit Breaker was close at hand. His nostrils flaring, and horns bearing down. His ghastly blue skin, and the shimmering sparkle of aether against matter made him look like a comet streaking across the earth. Those who did not know what devestation it fortold would call it majestic.

	Sven had just mantled a flight of crumbling stone steps, and his boots thudded across the black, infertile dirt. He turned as the tempo of the charge grew closer. With a chestdeep yell he summoned up a god's strength to defend himself. His tight, striated battlesuit turned red as magical energies coursed through it. His muscles grew and his mind was claimed by single purposed clarity.

	The Spirit Breaker smashed through a stand of trees, roaring out his hate. But Sven was a trained knight, fearless and bold. With a single pump of his arm, he let the might Storm Hammer fly. Magically imbued, and propelled by the strength of an ubermensch, it smashed the charging beast between the eyes with an earsplitting crack. The mighty outworlder crashed into the dirt, stunned.

	Sven raced forward, and in one fluid motion held his sword high. It would take just a few swipes to cleave this menace from reality. Barathrum seemed to roar at him, but the Rogue Knight paid no heed. He however did pay heed when the tip of his sword bit nothing but dirt. Barathrum had his own tricks as well. With a slip between realms, his nether strike brought him behind the knight, and he held his mighty flail ready to strike.

	But something was diffrent. Mortal men know nothing of Barathrums realm, its unseasons and nontimes. There is no world though, where the creatures do not have a mating season. This time was upon Barathrum, and the red hew of Sven's bodysuit, the contours of his helmet, the physical strength and might of mind he had shown... It confused Barathrum's already clouded mind, and for the instant Sven was a mare to be mounted.

	He cast aside his flail, and with tremendous strength, driven by one purpose, tackled the knight to the ground. Sven was caught off guard by the crushing blow from behind, and he loosed his grip on the sword, which sent it clattering into the shades. His strength allowed him to withstand the assault though, and he pulled himself up onto all fours, trying to shake the beast free. If he had known the true circumstance, he would have known how great an error this was.

	Barathrum's paws, while massive and thick, were crafted with the nimble grace of a monkey. They found the hem of Sven's pants, and seized them mightly before tugging them down and exposing the knight's toned, muscular ass. His other arm was bound around Sven's chest, holding the struggling knight in place against his tremendous bulk. With some clever positioning, the Spirit Breaker's iron skirt wasn't a factor anymore, and his thick bull's cock slid from its sheathe.

	"You're not going anywhere, you've got my dander up," the mighty blue creature chuckled.

	Sven's eyes went wide, and he renewed his struggle. It only served to bring his ass closer to the bobbing, swelling member. It became rigid and taught when the knight's efforts nestled it between his cheeks, grinding it back and forth.

	"Damnit! By the Shattered Helm!"

	Sven's cries did nothing to dissuade the horned beast. Still thinking he had snagged another needy creature of his realm, worthy to bare his seed, Barathrum wasted no time in forcing his thick cock into the knight. It fit, just barely. He humped vigorously, slamming forward every inch until it was snug inside of his victim. His heavy testicals, nearly the size of a man's fist, bounced against Sven's thighs.

	Eyes watering beneath his mask, Sven collapsed forward onto his arms. He had seen bulls rutting in the pasture when he was young. This would be quick, and he could escape if he just. His skin flushed red beneath his bodysuit when he realized he was hard. By the Outcast Blade, was he enjoying this rutting? As the huge bovine began to move back and forth, Sven's cock twitched and spasmed. Bitter the orphan's journey, and lonely his bed was.

	Barathrum mooed out his pleasure. His hips smacked against Sven's thighs, and their armour made a god awful clatter as it scraped and squeaked. His climax built quickly, and the head of his unhuman cock flared inside of the unwilling participant. With a few more deep, virile thrusts he suddenly loosed a torrent of sparkling, aether seed into the knight's belly. It was warm, and it seeped through his being, suffusing him with an unnatural light.

	Sven cried out in suprise. "This will do. Barely."

	The warmth and radiating splendor of the beast's orgasm threw him over the edge. His cock twitched, still confined, then blasted a load into the thick fabric of his battlesuit. He groaned and shut his eyes tight at the humiliation. It spasmed again, and loosed rope after rope of gooey mess that ran down the fronts of his legs.

	The Spirit Breaker collapsed ontop of him, pinning Sven there until the beast would awake. This earned another hearty, throatdeep damnit. With a sigh Sven snuggled back into the warmth of his top and remarked, "I blame no one."