Only a handful

At night, in one of the larger tents held for communal meetings, a shouting match ensued between the Shamans of various clans as they argued over the offer of submission to Ferelden.

"We need Ferelden's help! Without them, we'd simply be at the mercy of other tyrants who'd sooner slaughter or exploit us like slaves!"

"Submission to Ferelden will ensure exactly that! They already stare at us with mistrust and disdain!"

"We could not escape Vladislav's cruelty without the Kingdom offering protection! Even if they don't truly trust us, at least they're willing to hear us out! I say we accept the Elf-King's offer!"

"No, I'd sooner slit my own throat than bow to a royal!"

"Enough!" Zoryana shouted, thumping her staff on the floor of the tent, "We are discussing the future of our people, and it would behoove us to not behave like petulant children!"

"Says the woman who dared propose such a shameful option to us in the first place!" Shouted an old crone, balefully glaring at the youngling, "You know nothing about the sacred traditions of our people, a pup who was prompted to her position simply because her mentor died too early!"

Zoryana knew that she only got her position by virtue of being the eldest disciple of her previous mentor, and since she was the only one who stepped up to the leadership role while others crumbled under pressure, she was treated with greater respect in her own clan. Other older Shamans looked down on her for that, believing her too inexperienced and gullible.

"And if we do nothing, we change nothing!" Zoryana shouted back, "If you want to reject His Majesty's offer, that is fine by me, but do not dare insinuate that we can hope to overthrow Vladislav's tyranny on our own!"

"Fine then, have it your way!" The old crone declared.

And with her, the vast majority of the gathered Shamans and their disciples left the tent, leaving Zoryana alone with only five others; four were around her age at 18 to 19, the last being an old man who carried himself with energy and power despite his advanced years.

Zoryana bit back a curse, slumping down on her stool as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Zoryana, what do we do now?" A young man asked with uncertainty, "If they go through with their decision, they'll take their people back to the Kocari Wilds once Vladislav's dealt with!"

"Calm, young one," Said the elderly shaman, "Let Zoryana decide."

Zoryana's mind raced to find a solution to this debacle, and in the end, she found only one.

"We need to meet with His Majesty now."

The die was cast, and the fate of the surviving Chasind refugees was in their hands.

Commander Aednat O'Neil would usually spend her time sorting through reports and numbers at night, meticulously combing for every error or mistake with a fine-tooth comb. Tonight, such work was left to her second-in-command, who took her documents to his own office to rectify.

The slaps of flesh upon flesh echoed in the office, Aednat's pants stripped down as Alaras Surana fucked her from behind, his girthy cock stretching her pussy to the absolute limit.

Her breasts jiggled with each thrust, a sheen of sweat glistening her muscles, and her armour lay at one corner, polished and neatly arranged. You kissed her hungrily, smacking her ass and pinching it until it turned red.

"How's that, you masochist?" You smirked, "Had enough yet?"

"N-No, Your Majesty, please punish me more...!"

If Aednat were to show her face of twisted pleasure, getting off from indulging in sadism, she would die from the shame of it. After all, her troops only knew her as the stern-faced, grim commander with a no-nonsense tolerance for what she considered frivolous triviality.

You slapped her ass again and again, and she screamed herself hoarse while squirting onto the floor, moaning like a whore. You then insert two fingers into her ass, and her screams reach a crescendo as you roughly wiggle them like a toy, wreaking havoc upon her prostate gland. She cried, she shuddered, and yet she wanted even more.

"Yes! Yes, please, fuck my ass more!" Aednat pleaded.

And soon, you hilted yourself deep, unleashing your seed inside the deepest parts of her womb. She cried with happiness, tears staining the floor while her legs wobbled.

Once you pulled out, you smiled at the sheer thickness and stench of your semen seeping out of her pussy. Unable to stand properly, she fell to her knees, her hands steadying her against the wall, her back hunched and her head face-down. You knelt down and caressed her chin, and she kissed you once again.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. You've no idea how long I've wanted to be bred and taken by someone stronger," Aednat smiled, flushing a deep shade of magenta.

"Anytime," You smiled.

Just then, they heard a banging on the door, and the both of you quickly put on your clothes while you cast magic to clean way the stains and stench.

"Yes, what is it?" Aednat asked, annoyed at the abrupt interruption.

The door opened to reveal a messenger, frantic in his expression.

"Beg your pardon Your Majesty, Commander, but there's been an incident in the Chasind refugee camp," He reported, "The shamans have tried to **** each other, and several were caught in the fighting. There's already been several dozens of deaths, and many more were injured."

You quickly asked, "What of Zoryana, is she safe?"

"Yes, Sire. She is," The messenger nodded, "She and a handful of her allies put a stop to the fighting as soon as it began."

You nodded with relief, "Give medical aid to the wounded, and tell Zoryana that I need to meet with her in private tomorrow morning, after breakfast."

"Aye, Sire."

Things had gone according to plan, and Zoryana and her people had come through with her and her small band of allies intact. Now, with the rest of their leadership purged, the remaining Chasind will have **** but to listen to her as their Shaman-Supreme. Step one of controlling the Chasind was done.

Now for step two: Killing Vladislav and all his lackeys.