This age has already seen its climactic battle. Four years ago, a ring of necromancers rose up. The might of the dead grew with every battle, and was poised to sweep the world under its cloak. In these dark times, a group of heroes made a daring strike at the heart of evil, and the great enemy of life toppled. The world is now coming out of a long period of mourning. Every living creature owes a debt they cannot repay to five brave souls.
This story is not about those heroes.
Ivy scratched her chin with the nail of her thumb, deep in thought as they rode. "So, I think that, since I'm the new leader, I shou-"
"Whoa," Val said. "Just, whoa. First of all, way too soon." The others nodded in solemn agreement. Everyone but Mathilda, anyway. The color had not yet returned to the dwarf's face nearly a full day later. She merely sat quietly in her saddle, staring ahead without seeing. "Second of all, you're not in charge. We didn't vote on that."
"Everyone else got to try being in charge. Weren't we were taking turns?"
"We kinda were," Katsa whispered through the side of her mouth.
Mathilda's reign, days longer than Val's but well short of the Arcanists, had come to a sudden and inglorious end that none of them were yet willing to speak of (and would only refer to in the future as 'The Piggyback Incident'). Her wanton abuse of power had resulted in her immediate removal from office. Ayen had refused to accept an authoritative role, abdicating immediately, four times, before the matter was dropped.
"We're not putting her in charge," Val said flatly.
"In charge of what exactly?" Katsa gave her a rueful grin. "Just let her have it."
"Fine," Val relented, throwing her hands in the air. "I'm gonna go scout ahead." She kicked her heels into the sides of her enormous horse, and the great beast lurched ahead.
"That's an excellent idea!" the buxom redhead said brightly. "I approve!"
"Not looking for your approval," Val shouted angrily, as she trotted off.
"I better be careful," Ivy observed, as she pulled out her pad and quill, "or all this power is going to go to my head."
"It's certainly going to go somewhere," Ayen added.
Ivy turned to look at Mathilda, but felt comfortable making that judgement call all on her own. She started making notes on the yellow paper. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "That reminds me. When we stop, I need to get some hats." A minute passed in almost-quiet.
"What are the hats for, exactly?" Ayen could barely contain his giggles.
"Well I'm pulling double duty as President and Secretary now, and I don't want there to be a conflict of interest."
Katsa pinched her nose in disgust, while Ayen continued to titter. "And the hats will help how?"
"I thought wearing actual hats might help me keep the roles separate," she explained calmly. "I'll have a presidential hat and a secretarial hat."
"Well," Ayen interjected, "secretaries sometimes wear skirts. Perhaps we could get you a few skirts instead. That would probably be cheaper."
"And I would... switch skirts every time I changed roles?"
Ivy looked up to the sky, deep in thought, while Katsa internally disavowed herself of the entire conversation. Suddenly, Mathilda cleared her throat loudly, making sound for the first time that day. "We'll get ye some 'ats, lass."
"Oh! Good," Ivy said with a relieved smile. "I wasn't sure if that meant I needed to start wearing underwear again." Ayen buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Look at that! Two executive orders in the books before lunch! I'm gonna make a great president!"
The trees around her swayed slowly and Val sighed. "Yesterday, you told me the answer was ahead of me, but today it's behind me? How about a straight answer for once!" To that, there was no response, and Val hung her head. "Sometimes I think I'm doing this wrong." The wind shifted, and Val's ears immediately perked up. Her horse, an irritable stallion who resented her presence on him as much as he enjoyed the exercise after so long cooped up at the Bandit camp, perked up as well.
She sniffed. Humans. Almost on top of her. She schooled herself, forcing her very best warm smile, as the forest thinned ahead. Two men in shoddy, ill-fitting chainmail stood just beside the road ahead, their pikes leaned back against their shoulders.
"Evening!" she called, as she and her horse broke clear of the tree line. Both guards turned and nodded... and Val sighed as she watched their casual stances turn martial. Pikes moved forward, their points arcing toward her to bar her path. Both men moved to the center of the dirt road.
"Where you headed, stranger?" the first guard asked, his rounded belly ready to burst through his protective covering at a moment's notice.
Val frowned and looked around. "This is the road to Gahlston, ain't it?"
"And what kind of business would an Orc have in Gahlston?"
"Just passing through," the big Orc sighed, suddenly feeling much more like a sitting duck from up there atop her unruly mount. "Looking for someone I know."
"They ain't here." The first guard paused to spit before continuing, "Maybe it's best you turn around and head back the way you came."
"Look. I don't want any trouble-"
"You got any papers for that horse?" the second one chimed in.
"Papers?" Val answered incredulously. "Of course I don't have any papers!"
The first guard frowned in an unsurprised fashion. "There's been some theft in the area recently."
"Some folks been seein' someone lurking about." The second one was practically drooling with excitement. "Filin' reports of a suspicious person matching your description.
"My desc-" Val took a deep breath. "You mean green?"
"There's no call to make this a race thing, ma'am."
"My... ugh." Val rolled her eyes, hating to admit it out loud. "My party is right behind me. They'll t-"
"There's more of them!" the first guard said hurriedly to the second one. "Signal for backup!" The second guard immediately ran back down the dusty street flailing his arms. Val lifted her head and groaned in frustration; the guard house was neither small nor far. "Ma'am I need you to dismount the horse right now." His body language was practically screaming at her.
"No," Val scoffed. "I have every-"
"She's resisting arrest!" the first guard screamed. "I need backup now! Tell'm we've got an irate Orc!"
"Okay! Fine!" Val bit down hard on her tongue as she swung her leg up over the saddle.
"She's reaching for a weapon!!"
"Oh come on!" she shouted.
"What's going on here?" a new voice demanded.
Val's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as another rider emerged from the forest behind her; one she hadn't heard coming and had gotten between her and the rest of the group. She ground her teeth as she weighed the risk of turning her back on so many guards to find out who might be behind her, but the steady clop-clop of hooves on hard-packed road mercifully took the choice out of her hands. The rider slowly passed around her on her left.
"You should stand back, M'lord. We'll handle this one."
"Yes, she does look very dangerous." It took Val a moment to catch the dry, sarcastic tone. "It's a good thing there's ten of you."
"Right you are, Sir, but I need you to clear the field of engagement straight away!"
"What's the charge, then?" The rider moved past her, and Val chanced a glance in his direction. Human, male, with shoulder-length dark blonde hair and a subtle smirk she thought she might be the only one understanding right now.
"We think she might be the one been stealin' them horses, Sir."
"I didn't steal it," Val growled. "The horse is mine." She tried to think of a more elegant way of saying she'd procured it from Bandits she'd thoroughly maimed and beaten with her bare hands, and decided it might be best to end it where she had.
"Exactly what a horse thief would say."
"I can put this to bed right now," said the mysterious rider. "All the horses missing in the area either are mine or were, and that isn't one of them."
The guard was unfazed. "All the same, sir, I think it's best we take her back to the holding cell and make su-"
"That won't be necessary, Captain," the rider said pointedly, sitting up a little straighter in his saddle. He was tall and, she had to admit, ruggedly handsome. He was at least 30% chin. And tall! Fuck... Almost as tall as her? Maybe... it was hard to tell while he was mounted. "I'll escort her into town myself."
The first guard gawked, his mind racing to recover. "M'lord!" Val smirked as she awkwardly remounted her stallion and followed after her timely benefactor.
"Thank you for your diligence, Captain!" The man rode slowly, clearly comfortable in the saddle. Val gave him an appraising look as she caught up and rode alongside him
"Oh no," Mathilda groaned, as they and their horses ambled toward the small mining outpost of Gahlston. "Dwarves." A troup of them marched across the street ahead, going from one establishment to another.
Marched is perhaps too strong of a word.
"Finally!" Ayen exclaimed. "Someone your own size to pick on!"
"Didn't think we'd find Dwarves this far south," Katsa mused.
"Oh these aren't Dwarves of the 'true' Southern Kingdom," Ivy said, miming air quotes. "They're all dead. Those," she pointed for clarity, "are resettlers."
"Criminals," the Divinist snarled. "Outcasts an' buffooons."
"Do you like anyone?" Ayen asked.
"Lemme pu' it this way," she answered, finding some of her old voice. She held up her thumb. "Ah don' like Dwarves. Unruly, ungrateful, an' stubborn." Index finger. "Ah don' like Southern Dwarves even more. Ridiculous numbskulls. The Necromancers did us a kindness by riddin' the world of 'em." Middle finger. "First thing these degenera' ingrates did was appropriate an entire dead culture withou' the sligh'est sense 'o digni'y!" She stared daggers down the road. "One'f em found a corpse that'd had a birdcage slammed onto 'er head as 'er town was razed. Suddenly, there's a whole village of these gene pool trespassers wearin' cages as 'ats!"
"G'day, mates!" one of the dwarves said cheerily as he passed them in the street.
Mathilda turned, fuming, to Katsa, her short arms held straight out at her sides. " 'oo talks like tha'?!" They both shook their heads as they rode on, although for different reasons. "Look't 'em. Like a flock o' cows blitherin' about."
"Herd," Katsa corrected.
"Herd of cows."
" 'course Ah heard o' cows," Mathilda scoffed. "Are ye daft? Think Ah don' know what cows are jus' because Ah grew up under a mountain?" She continued to mutter under her breath about the pervasive racism she faced on a day-to-day basis simply because she was a Dwarf, while Katsa sighed, missing the cultured conversations and learned debates of the Arcanist Guild and not for the first time.
Val's towering stallion wasn't hard to find, staked out near the road at one of the only two inns in town. Mathilda shivered in disgust at the common room full of drunk (and disorderly) Dwarves, and bore a sour expression as they made their way to the table where Val was seated. "Wha's she doin' with 'er face?"
"I think she's smiling," Katsa said with a smirk.
Mathilda glared up at the Arcanist. " 'ave you ever known that grea' lump 'o muscle to smile?"
Katsa rolled her eyes... but no. No, she hadn't.
"Ah ha!" laughed a mountain of a man seated next to Val. At least, he would have appeared so next to anyone other than Val; as it was, he was just shy of being her equal. "The rest of your party has arrived!"
Katsa, Mathilda, and Ayen stopped and looked at each other, but Ivy happily stepped forward and extended her hand. "Hello," she said brightly. "I'm Ivy, Party President." The fabric of her shirt groaned fearfully as she leaned forward.
"You were not kidding," he whispered to Val with a smirk. He vigorously returned the handshake and gestured to the empty chairs around the rest of the table. "Please, everyone! Join us!" Ivy wasted no time picking a comfortable-looking chair, while the others continued to stare at Val in quiet disbelief. For her part, Val... Katsa had to blink before she knew what she was seeing. Val was most definitely blushing. Ayen settled into a chair opposite the newcomer, while Katsa and the Dwarf moved to the last of the empty chairs. "I am Jerrod, first of House Clayborne. My family owns most of the land in the area, as well as the mountain these good dwarves are hollowing out one shovel-full at a time!"
Everyone looked sideways toward each other, trying to sort out who would handle question answering before Ivy took it upon herself to speak for them, but she removed herself from the equation politely to go and have a private word with the innkeeper.
"So Val tells me you just rid our fair town of a problem before it had a chance to rear it's ugly, yodeling head?"
"I think they mostly were into show tunes," Val said thoughtfully, as she took a sip of her lager.
"Ugh," Jerrod groaned. "Was there a lot of jazz hands?"
Val and Jerrod shared a frustrated groan, and immediately began swapping war stories about Bards.
"And, I'm telling you, the minute- the second, that room was clear, that's when when he finally hit the high note."
Val laughed and dabbed at her eye. They just managed to get themselves composed as Ivy was returning.
"I spoke with the Mistress of the house," Ivy said with a sly grin, "worked a little Bardic magic, and secured some lodgings for the night!"
"How?" Katsa asked flatly. "We don't have any money. Like... at all."
"Once all the dwarves clear out," Ivy said, very proud of herself, "we just need to straighten up a bit and we'll be allowed to sleep by the fire!"
Ayen arched an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest. "So what you're saying is that you signed us up for manual labor."
"Not much!" Ivy said brightly. "And then we'll be out of the wind tonight!"
Katsa and Ayen sulked in their chairs. Val barely heard a word of it, absorbed as she was in pretending not to notice how Jerrod was staring at her out of the corner of his eye. Mathilda frowned at all of them. "Ye did good, lass."
"Thanks!" Ivy preened in her chair. "Oh, and some rabbit stew should be out in a bit for dinner!"
Val smiled. "It'll be just you guys. Jerrod has invited me to dine with him at his estate tonight."
"But," Jerrod added, "how about a round of ale to go with that stew for the rest of you?"
The Bard and Mathilda perked up at the mention of a bit of alcohol to go with what could be the best meal they'd had in weeks. Katsa and Ayen frowned suspiciously, but Val was ignorant of all of it. There was a table full of attractive people (by her reckoning, anyway), and Jerrod was looking at her.
"Whoa," Val said, as she stepped through the massive front doors of the main house.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Val stared curiously at the vast, open space. "It's so... sparse."
"I know," Jerrod said, with an air of pride. "Don't you just love the clean lines of it?"
"Sure," Val reasoned. "Very spartan."
"Nevermind." Val shook her head dismissively, and tried to focus on something else as they walked. "I really like the-"
"I just," he interrupted, talking right over her, "feel like so many members of the quote-unquote nobility get so caught up in the trappings of wealth, and it makes me sick. Who needs all that crap piling up?"
"Not me," Val agreed quickly.
"Cleaning this place out was my first order of business when I assumed control of the family."
"I can totally see that," Val said, nodding as she followed him down a side hallway and into the main part of the building. Part of her was shocked at her insipid behaviour, but mostly she was just excited. Excited and more than a little horny. Jerrod was a full axe handle across the shoulders. She shivered.
"You're dying to ask, aren't you?"
Val paused, spoon halfway to her mouth, and stared. She was. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Jerrod smiled as he chewed on a bit of the duck they had prepared themselves. "You're wondering why there's no servants. Why we had to make the dinner ourselves."
Yes. "No. I assumed it was like you were saying before? About trappings?"
"That's part of it," he mulled, "but it just felt so lazy having everything done for me, you know?" Val nodded in agreement as he continued. "During my time serving in The War, I just... I don't know. I got used to roughing it." He gestured around at the huge room with his fork. "This was all so... soft. You know, after."
"I totally get that." Val's eye twitched as she caught herself rushing to agree with him. Again. She gave herself a shake, trying to come back to herself, but it was getting harder and harder. "Where did-" Val cut off with a squawk, her voice high and entirely too girlish. She hit herself hard in the center of her ribcage and cleared her throat roughly. "Did you do most of your fighting around here?"
"I was one of the lucky ones," he said, after taking a sip of his wine. "I didn't have to trek it out to the front line; the front line came to me."
Val thought for a moment. "So that was near the end, then?"
"No," Jerrod said with a thoughtful smile. "We held out here for months."
"Months?! In one place?"
He nodded. "Right when the dead started knocking on our door, who should show up but Orcs. Three full legions. We managed to save half of Gahlston, and they stayed to help rebuild the other half. Gained quite a bit of respect for them and their culture." He paused, and added, almost as an afterthought, "Your culture. But enough about that." Jerrod leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Why don't you tell me a little more about yourself. How did someone as beautiful as you end up with such an unglamorous job?"
Val blushed, causing the green in her cheeks to lighten considerable.
"I think you're really going to like this," he said over his shoulder with a grin, as they stumbled down a long, undecorated hallway. "I've got quite a collection."
"The suspense is killing me."
Jerrod just flashed another grin as he placed his hands on the handle of the door at the very end, and Val felt a flutter pass through her middle. "You're the first one I've ever shown it to."
Val flinched for a moment. "First one what?"
Jerrod stretched out the moment, grin widening as he kept her in suspense just that much longer, before throwing open both doors and proceeding inward with both arms held out at his side. Val followed behind him with her eyes widened.
She stood stunned, staring at the room. A crude recreation of a Varghul Orc hut stood in one corner. An ogre war banner was draped over a goblin mating totem amid a pile of various tribal weapons. The room was a hodge podge of misplaced and appropriated culture that left Val wincing
"Take me." Jerrod turned around in slow motion, spinning and backing toward the bed with a hungry grin.
"Wait," Val uttered incredulously. "What?"
His eyes lit up. "Claim me as your war trophy, you savage brute!"
Val's expression darkened as she looked past him. A leopard-skin bra and loincloth lay alongside a heavy wooden club on the bed. Her mind... reeled. "That's what I'm here for?"
Jerrod beamed with pride as he hefted the club. "Carved this beauty myself." A wooden club. Val didn't even know how to respond to that. He turned to her, offering her the handle. "Want to try it out?"
Then she realized she did know how to respond to that.
Val made to reach for the club, but instead grabbed his wrist and yanked him toward her. His grin widened, thinking this was going to go a different route right up until the moment her fist connected just below his ribs. Jerrod fell to his knees, his face comically stretched out as the air was driven from his diaphragm. She drew her left arm back, high above her shoulder, and it came crashing down with every ounce of her frustration along for the ride. Jerrod twisted ferociously, hit the ground with a hard thud, and didn't move.
She grabbed the loincloth off the bed and tied it tightly around his ankles, then did the same around his wrists with the top. Shoving the handle of the club up into his ass was no small feat, but she felt much better having gotten it in there as she stormed back into the night with two of his wine bottles in hand.
"A new player 'as entered the game," Mathilda announced, in her most announcer-like voice, as Val sat down at the table.
"She's on my team," Ayen said quickly.
"Fine," Mathilda snarled. "Yer gonna need all the 'elp ye can get!"
"We might need to move out sooner rather than later." The big Orc set her empty wine bottle down hard on the table. The other one lay in fragments by the wall outside the Clayborne estate, where she'd hurled it after guzzling the contents.
"Ah take it yer tryst di'n't go as planned then?" Mathilda waved to the beleaguered gnome tending the bar and ordered a few more rounds. Val merely shook her head. " 'ow soon?"
"First light should be fine." She looks around that the score of empty mugs and frowned. "How do you do a team drinking game?"
"We'll take turns," Ayen slurred. He blinked exaggeratedly, and took a moment to focus his eyes on her. "Maybe you should take the next few." Val harrumphed; the Dwarf didn't appear to be affected at all. Her instincts were telling her they needed to leave right then, but...
"Ashaaamed!" Mathilda repeated, as she hovered over the table. "Yer whole greeny race should be ashamed!! Ah had a ten round 'ead start, an' yer only drinkin' ev'ry other!"
"No I'm not," Val insisted angrily.
"Yes you are," Ayen reminded her.
To his credit, the Half-Elf had hung in there, but it was all about to end one way or the other. Val fought to think straight through her drunken haze. She needed a... something. "What the..."
The big Orc reached her thumb and middle finger down into her mug, and pinched them together on the surface. "Whatthefuckisthat?"
"Ah don'..." Val lifted her hand and extended it over the table, middle finger pushed tight against the pad of her thumb. "Wot am Ah..." Mathilda peered blearily at her thumb, eyes crossing as she got closer and closer.
When she was in range Val unleashed her coiled middle finger, flicking the Dwarf just above the bridge of her nose.
"Ahh!" Mathilda squawked, pressing her hand to her forehead and sitting back in her chair. "The fuck was 'at?"
"A..." Word. Come on, word. "Coup de grace?" That was maybe it.
The shorter woman pulled her hand away and squinted at her palm. "Ye made me bleed." Mathilda pushed a finger against the tiny wound and muttered under her breath. When her finger came away clean, she fixed Val with a wavering stare. "Ah take it this means ye forfeit?" Val reluctantly nodded, and Mathilda chuckled as she wobbled off of her chair. "Suckers. Ye shoulda... shoulda..."
Ayen and Val each winced as the Healer fell to her side and hit the ground with a terrific thud. Both of them toyed with the idea of getting up to check on her, and accepted her buzzsaw snoring as proof of life. Ivy and Katsa, having already done the bulk of the cleaning work, had passed out hours ago.
"If she doesn't remember that," Val warbled, "I'm counting it as a win."
"Yeah! Yeah!" Ayen yelled drunkenly. "You-"
The big Orc cut him off with a hand against his chest and a grin. "What are you trying to do? Wake everyone up?"
Ayen's eyebrows rose up onto his forehead. "Oh," he whispered. "Uhh, right now?"
Val's grin darkened. "Right here. Right now." Her chair scuffed loudly across the wooden floorboards as she scooted back from the table, the pronounced bulge becoming even more so as she unlaced the bindings on her breeches.
"His loss," Ayen slurred, as his fingers fumbled at the waistband of his own. Val grabbed the tail of his shirt and dragged him between her legs even as he was lowering his leggings. Her other hand squeezed tight on her shaft as it struggled to stand up on it's own. Two quick pumps pushed enough lube out through her clit to grease a pig, and it oozed down the sides and onto her fingers. "Aww, did he put you away w-w-wet?"
"Idon'twannatalkabouthim," Val growled. Ayen stood between her legs, staring down at her heavy shaft, and grinned. His own cock, a couple inches longer and already at full sail, was half as thick at best, and he was no slouch in that department either. He gave a quivering gasp as she grabbed his shirt again and spun him around to face away.
"Oooooooh that's nice," Ayen squealed quietly, as she shoved two dripping fingers unceremoniously up into his ass. His hips moved with a mind of their own, grinding back against her palm while his ring clenched and grabbed at her knuckles.
"Sit on it," she rasped, her voice low and guttural. Ayen couldn't stop himself from blushing while he reached back to guide himself toward her. He pinched his eyes tightly shut as he felt the slick, fully-engorged head press against his pucker. "Do it already."
"I'm going, I'm go-uuuuuuuuh!"
Val sneered as she took firm grasp of his hips and thrust up out of the chair, loving, as she always did, the sight of the the pink tip disappearing inside of someone else. "Gotta do errrything," she mumbled. She pulled him closer to her, her shaft sinking deeper into his back door, before lowering back down into the chair.
"Slooow," Ayen whined. "Fuck! It's like fucking a horse!"
"Yo- you ever fucked a horse, Elf?" Val sucked her lower lip in between her large canines and bit down hard as she watched his amazing ass take inch after inch of her. The very edge of his ring darkened as it stretched around her.
"I've fu-uuuuuuck!" Ayen groaned as the going got tougher. "I fucked a centaur once," he wheezed.
"Me too," Val sang, as she pulled the Rogue down fully onto her lap. She leaned forward, her bound breasts pressing against his back as her chin dug into his shoulder. "Clever line."
"Wha-Oh!" Ayen winced as her hands clamped down on his waist, and lifted him slowly up into the air. "Oooooh!"
"Hadda say something." Val leaned back, tilting her head so she could watch her shaft sliding back out of his asshole. The dark green crossfading to pink. Ayen whimpered quietly, and his shoulder twitched. "Areyou... touchin'yerselfrighnow?" He whimpered again and nodded. "Tease."
"Slower," he whined, as he looked back over his shoulder; his delicate features, twisted in excruciating pleasure. "Fuck! Slower!"
"Nope." They groaned in unison as Val brought him down hard into her lap, her shaft squelching loudly as it burrowed into his cavity. The muscles in her arms flexed and bulged as she lifted him up, only to bring him crashing back down into her lap. Up, and then down hard. Up, and then down hard. Squelching louder each time as her shaft continued to ooze fluid into his ass.
"Shut up!" she hissed.
"I ca..." Squelch. "I ca..." Squelch. "I ca..." Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.
Val lurched up out of her seat, throwing Ayen forward over the table in front of her. Her hand came down around his neck, pinning the side of his head against the well-worn oak. "I said be quiet."
Ayen moaned as she worked her shaft in and out of him, finding a smoother rhythm. The table screeched across the floor after a hard thrust, and Val twisted like an owl; Ivy stirred, but that was it. Mathilda and Katsa didn't move at all.
"Don't stop," Ayen groaned. "Fuck, don't stop."
"Wild centaurs, my little cuntsleeve." Her hand entwined in his hair, fisting and yanking back until his neck bent nearly 90º. "Wild centaurs."
"Yes!" Ayen whimpered. "Yes!"
Her hips rolled faster, a smooth circular motion that neither hilted nor withdrew. She sucked air in through gritted teeth watching his beautiful ass take her over and over. "Fuck," she wheezed.
Val happily obliged, wrenching upward until his back arched inhumanly. "Take it," she rasped. "Take it."
"I'm gonna cum," Ayen wheezed. "I'mna... I'mna...fuck... fuuuck!"
Val grabbed the closest pitcher she could get to with her free hand. She reached it around underneath the table as she hilted, corralling Ayen's cock in the mouth of it and sliding the makeshift cum-catcher up until she was sure. Ayen's dark walls clamped hard around her as he came, milking even more of her lube with the spasmodic waves of his climax. She could feel a wet spot on her breeches, bunched down around her thighs, and knew it meant she was dripping everywhere. She gave it a few more seconds before lifting the glass pitcher back up and setting it down on the table in front of Ayen. He squealed and twitched with every movement, and then moaned long and low. His cum was one long swirl layered throughout the translucent amber, slowly descending to lay along the bottom..
Her grip slowly loosened from his hair, and Ayen settled back down against the table. His fingers found purchase in nicks and grooves in the aged wood as she started up again, grunting only softly as she bore into him again. Faster. Harder. His mouth hung open as she railed him, screaming in silence as the big Orc steadily brought herself toward satisfaction. Val grumbled underneath her breath, snarling as the tension built in her core. Her fingertips bit into the flesh of his hips, thumbs reaching inward to spread his ass cheeks. As the tension swelled. The thickest part of her shaft, at the very base, sliding in and out of his gaping hole with ease.
Val stood up straight as she came, rising up on the balls of her feet. Ayen rose with her, his ass rooted around her shaft and his hips held in the vice of her fingers. His feet dangled in the air while he clung desperately to the table. They stayed like that for nearly half a minute, the Half-Elf hanging from her grasp, before she slumped back down to the ground.
"Fuck," Ayen whimpered, as she pulled out of him and fell back into her chair. A deluge of thin juices followed her out, splashing as much onto their boots as on the floor. Val stared raptly at the yawning gape of his ass while he wheezed, bent over the table and panting. It was tempting to go searching for things to shove in there just for fun. The ring twitched lazily with every breath he took, struggling to shrink itself back down to size. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
"You keep... you keep..." Val shook her head from side to side, trying to clear out some of the fuzz. "You keep that up and we jus' might."
"You can't threaten me with a good time," he sang softly. His knees threatened to give out as he crouched down to grab his breeches. "Damn... that big bag of dicks really got you all torqued up, huh?"
"I said I don't wanna talk about it."
"I think I've-oooooo," he groaned, straightening and pulling them up over his hips. "..earned a little info, right? I mean, you did takeitoutonme." He had to put a hand on the table to steady himself.
Val rolled her eyes with a sigh, grabbing a pitcher. "Yes. He did. 're ya happy?"
"We gotta strike back." Ayen nodded gravely, his whole body wobbling unsteadily with the force of his nodding.
"I 'lready did," she said evasively.
Ayen slumped backwards into the table. "Ooo! Whadja do?"
"I don't wanna talk about it." The fire burned low beside them, casting a deep orange light across the room. Ayen frowned in thought, and then staggered over to Katsa's pack. "Wha're ya doin? Dontouchthat."
"I got it," Ayen drunkenly dismissed. "I just wanna see if she has anymore'a them combustible lemons."
"So we can-"
"I know what they're for," Val argued irritably.
"Well then you know why I'm lookin' for 'em!" Ayen made a dissatisfied noise as he closed up the Arcanists pack. "Arright, c'mon," he whispered as he staggered toward the door.
"What? Noo," she whined.
"C'mon," he repeated over his shoulder.
Val grumbled as she lurched up out of her chair. "I said I arready toocare of it!"
" 's's fer yer own good," he slurred, as he weaved out the door and into the night.
"This is a bad idea," Val whispered, as they stumbled through the dark. They rolled over the low walls surrounding the Clayborne mansion, and tumbled into the sparse grass on the other side. "We are way too drunk for this, and we don't need to be sneaking! There's no guards!"
Ayen spun around, jabbing a finger in her direction. "Listen, warrior-woman-person; if we get into any fights, I'll gladly hide while you take care of it, but this is thiefing! I'm the thief! Do what I say!"
Val nodded, acquiescing to airtight logic, and crouched low behind him as they stalked from cover to cover. "Isn't it pronounced 'thieving'?"
"I'm not talking to you." They scampered across the lawn to duck behind a well. "I gotta admit; I'm a little shocked this didn't go off between you two."
"I am too," Val slurred. "Things were going along great until he showed me his little sex hut."
The Half-Elf peered over the top of the low stone. "Didn't take him for a whips-and-chains type."
"No. Ugh," Val groaned. "It was all Orc stuff. Had special clothes for me to wear and everything. He wanted me to..."
Ayen fell back into a crouch and stared at her in the dark. "...to..."
She sighed. "Claim him."
"Like, as a dependent?"
"No," the big Orc said flatly.
"Oh. Ooooooooh!" Ayen giggled and covered his mouth. "He's a BGC slut!"
"You know what? Don't finish that." This time, both of them peered up and over the stone wall surrounding the well. "Can we go already?"
"Yeah, but before we get over there, you need to change how you're walking."
"What's wrong with my walk?"
"Well you're kind of scurrying. When we get right up next to the building, I'm gonna need you to skulk."
"What's wrong with scurrying?"
"It's bush league is what it is." Ayen shook his head. "I could lose my good standing if anyone else sees me with someone who was scurrying."
Val smirked disbelievingly. "You have good standing with someone?"
The Thief pressed his hand over his chest and gasped. "I have feelings, you know. If you prick me, I bleed."
"Didn't see any blood earlier." Both of them descended into drunken snickering, while frantically waving their hands at each other in an attempt to get the other one to stop making so much noise. "You're gonna get us caught!"
"No, you are!"
"No, you are!"
This went on for a bit, each slowly raising the volume of their voice until they were quietly screaming at each other. A deer cracking a dry twig several hundred yards away finally snapped them out of their bickering. "How much did we drink?" Ayen asked, after a few moments pause.
"All of it." Val muttered. He nodded, but tripped as soon as he tried to get up to skulk away from the well. Val cackled and trailed after him as he limped up to the wall of the main house. "Still having trouble walking?"
"Well who's fault is that?" he fired back. "And stop scurrying."
"I could be doing cartwheels," she laughed. "There's no guards."
"Nooo, no way." Ayen shook his head as he skulked along the wall, testing each of the windows they passed to see if any of them were unlocked. "That just means they're crafty. Noble families have wealth. Wealth needs to be protected. Protection means guards. It's simple economics."
Val gave up trying to match his skulking and merely walked along behind him in a most un-stealthy manner, although it could be argued that a 6'5", 270 lb Orc is incapable of doing anything stealthily. "Wait. Thieving?"
"Thiefing," Ayen corrected. "And yes."
"Yeeeeah, he doesn't really have much in the way of... stuff."
"That's fine," Ayen said, gasping happily as one of the windows responded to his delicate probing. "We'll just help ourselves to some of his gold."
"Yeeeeah... I didn't get that 'hoard of gold' vibe from him."
"Slaves?" Ayen asked hopefully. "I could really use a good slave."
"Yeeeeah... no. Also, ew."
"Don't judge. I have needs." Ayen poked his head through the window, and tumbled through onto the floor. "Do you know how long it's been since I got a good deep tissue massage?"
"Yeeeeah..." Val shook her head. "I can't fit through that window."
The Thief scoffed and extended his hand. It took nearly a full minute of him pulling, and her pushing, and them both grunting loudly, before Val squeezed through on the other side. "Ivy gives a really good massage," Val said, as she got up on her hands and knees. "She just gave me one yesterday."
"When we were bathing."
"Every time I try to get near her, that fucking Dwarf gets in the way." Ayen shook with quiet rage as he got up and looked around. "Wait, you were bathing?"
"Were they nice?" he asked, cupping his hands against his chest.
"Oh yeah," Val said with a chuckling nod. "Yeah, very nice."
Ayen turned, staring through the wall in what he thought was the direction of town. "That woman is my white whale."
"Nevermind," Ayen said, as he skulked across a sparse parlor. "You don't think they're fucking, do you?"
"I don't think her species can mate with whales."
"Not the whale! Mathilda!"
"Oh!" Val thought for a moment. "Yeah. They are most definitely fucking."
"I knew it!"
"Good for her."
"Can we all just stop using pronouns with this group? There's too many women. I can't ever keep track of who 'her' is."
"Right, uh... Good for Ivy, I meant. Dwarves are something else in the sack."
"And what, Elves are just good for passing the time?" Ayen slowly pulled the door open, and peeked his head out into the main hallway. "Whoa, I thought you were just kidding, or... fuck, I don't know! This place is empty."
"Well I really don't want to spend all night at this, searching through every damn room, and we're not leaving empty handed." Ayen turned back into the parlor and cast his eyes about. "That."
"That what?" Val scoffed. "That rug?"
"We're taking this." he said, as he knelt down grabbed the ends of the thick blue and purple cloth.
"Who steals a rug?"
"It's not just about the rug, it's about sending a message."
"The message is 'don't fuck with my friend'."
Val rolled her eyes. "Can we at least not go back through the window? I was really worried I was going to get stuck."
"And now you know you won't!" He smiled as he tucked the neatly rolled cylinder of fabric under his arm. "Ladies first."
Val grumbled under her breath as she slouched over to the window. She squirmed through a second time, and was sitting upright with her legs splayed when Ayen came through a moment later. "I was going to let him," she said softly.
"Let him... what?"
"Be my first." She stayed down on the ground for another few seconds, and sniffled loudly. Ayen took a deep breath and blew it back out slowly through his nose. He felt right, even justified, as he turned and hurled the rolled up carpet back through the window, shattering it. The crash was enormous, ringing out in the house and across the grounds.
Val rolled away, panting and clutching her chest. "What the fuck did you do that for?"
"Had to send a stronger message," Ayen slurred, as he extended a hand to her. Val took it with a nod, and hauled herself up to her feet. There was still no alarm being raised of any kind within the spacious building as they drunkenly stumbled back toward town. "Are you sure he didn't mean as a dependant?"
Val rolled her eyes. "I'm positive."
"If he was having tax problems, that would explain some things."
"You two look pretty ragged," Katsa said with a chuckle, as they rode out of the far side of Gahlston. Val grunted wordlessly, barely upright in her saddle, and Ayen managed only slightly better.
"Ah told ye Ah'd take care'f it." Mathilda looked vastly more like herself, although she was as uncomfortable as ever on the back of her pony. "Dunno why yer so se' on wallowin' in the pain."
"To remind myself not to let this happen again," Val whined.
"Did you heal yourself?" Ivy asked, leaning over as she rode next to Mathilda.
"A bit of the hair of the dog was all Ah needed." She burped, and pressed her hand to her chest. "Human's are ok in my book, but you lot make shitty beer."
Ivy nodded and looked back over her shoulder. Ayen was bringing up the rear, and was surprised when she slowed down. "You actually look... much better than either one of them."
"I don't feel better," Ayen mumbled. He recoiled as she leaned in close to stare at his face.
"That's weird," she said. "Normally, when you drink, your eyes get a kind of glassy texture to them. Shiny. Today, your eyes look sharp. Just... tired."
"Wow, that-that-that is weird!"
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you didn't drink at all last night."
Ayen gave a weak laugh. "Well, it's a good thing you know better."
"I suppose it is!" Ivy smiled brightly, and stirred her horse forward to catch up to Mathilda.
May 9, 2018 in anal