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Old 04-12-2012, 04:30 PM   #1
IvoryValentine
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Under hedges and Mill Stones (closed for Led-Astray)

The flour dust was heavy in the air of the old mill when the sun began to set. The orange sunset pierced thru the trees outside the big open doors, casing odd shadows as the leaves danced in the fall breeze. The effect of the light on the flour dust adrift left the unnerving illusion of orange flames dancing through the air. Nisa loved the spectacle, from time to time, taking a moment from her back breaking work to glance at the doorway. As evening fast approached, the miller pushed a little hard to get just a few more bags ground.

After pausing to push a loose lock of brown hair from her face, she began to lift the bag of corn up and pour it the contents into the hopper that led to the grinding stones below. The constant sound of the two massive granite stones grinding together and the splashing of the paddle wheel outside in the creek set a perfect rhythm to sing to.

“Come all ye maidens young and fair
And you that are blooming in your prime
Always beware and keep your garden fair
Let no man steal away your thyme

For thyme it is a precious thing
And thyme brings all things to my mind
nlyme with all its flavours, along with all its joys
Thyme, brings all things to my mind

Once I and a bunch of thyme
i thought it never would decay
Then came a lusty sailor
Who chanced to pass my way
And stole my bunch of thyme away”

As the milled worked, pouring corn in the miller to grind then rushing down to catch her wares in large cotton sacks, other dark work took place outside. Orkta limped back to his commander who stood surrounded by 6 hobgoblins, all sent out to scout the area by their Master. The mill sat perched on the side of a hill and it’s paddle wheel and grinding stones could be heard for miles around. Isolated in the edge of the forest, miles from the closest farming village, the mill posed little threat the band of scouts still they were cautious. “Alone... only but one.” Orkta gargled sounding more like a toad than his kind.

His commander glared down at his underling and shifted his long spear from his left hand to his right. “One.... big man?” he questioned. “Millers are big men.” Commander Gorkin said recalling another such building they had attacked a few seasons before. The man who fought to keep the band out was a monster, with tree trunks for arms. Were not all flour millers the same?

Orkta grind with greenish yellow teeth, “No.... no big man..... no man at all.” Commander Gorkin leaned in, now curious, “Little woman. Fair of skin. Soft hair. Smelt so good.” The hobgoblin band began to stir excitedly. There was nothing like the feel and the taste of a human woman. Commander Gorkin brought the group under control with a glare. No one had the same hunger for what waited for them in the mill more than he but it wasn’t often such a thing lived without a man, especially so far from a village. Maybe Orkta was mistaken, to excited when he saw the female to take notice of a male.

After some consideration, Commander Gorkin turned to the group and began giving his orders. “We go in quiet. You two, through the water. You two, around the back. You tree , take the door. I watch from the road and catch what runs out. Kill da man and eat him if you want. The females for me tongue and cock first.”



Nisa continued her song as she worked. She filled the last full bag and let the tailings fall from the stones into a bag she used for herself. Pulling layers of her brown skirt out of her say, the miller crouched down and began to sew the bags of flour shut with a long, steel needle. The work had been hard since last winter when her husband died in a barroom brawl. but thinking back, the work was the only thing she missed about him.

Nisa had been in love with a young farmer a county away who had bought land close to the mill. But love does not pay a dowry, and after her young farmer found he couldn’t pay his milling bill, the Miller did some digging and found out about her. To spite the young man, the miller, Brasco Strongol, paid Nisa’s dowry to her starving father who’s belly was of greater importance than his daughter. Nisa’s young farmer hung himself the day he found out and Nisa’s heart was broke.

But that was more than ten years in the history. Nisa’s only happiness since then was when Brasco would head to town for a three or four day bender, leaving her in peace. He was a brutal man, with a short temper. He was a smart man though. He never hit her, instead, beating his young wife with insult after insult. He made no secret of how disappointed he was with her. Her beasts were not big enough for his taste, not like the butchers wife. She didn’t work as fast as the smiths wife. She did not give herself to him as regularly as the tavern owners wife. Then he began pointing out that she had yet to father him a child like half the bar maids in town had. He seemed to take great pleasure in pointing out that his little lovely wife was barren, and unlikely to give any man a child for there was nothing wrong with his seed.

No, Nisa didn’t miss her dearly departed husband besides when it came to lifting the heavy bags of grain and flour. With a smile on her lips, the miller continued her song.


“For thyme it is a precious thing
And thyme brings all things to my mind
nlyme with all its flavours, along with all its joys
Thyme, brings all things to my mind”


Even over the sound of the milling stones and the splashing water and wheel, Nisa’s sweet song drifted out into the evening air. As she finished the last verse, she pulled a leafer that disengaged the pulley system and the stones came to a hult. As Nisa grabbed the last bag and tied a string around its top, she noticed something out of place. The small birds that usually sang an unending song outside the mill were silent. What could cause them to stop their melody?

Nisa brushed the flour from her hands as she began towards the front of the mill. As she came around the front of the stones she could see shadows moving through the dust, much larger than any customer who she might have expected.
“Hello?” she questioned then saw the shapes freeze in motion, then slowly turning her way. her heart skips a beat in fear. Unable to take a breath for fear of what monsters might have come through her door, Nisa slowly began to back towards the rear entrance of the mill. As the miller passed the stack of unground corn, she reached for a long curved knife she used to cut the twine they were tied with.

With silent steps she rushed for the back door, to make her escape when a pair of ugly, hobgoblins. She left out a scream which only brought wide smiles of the slimmy green creatures faces. One reached for her, expecting her to faint and come easily, all all human females he had encountered did. Nisa dodged his reach and, with one swift fluid motions, sliced the hobgolbin’s wrist open, spilling his life blood all over the wood floor. The scout, not expecting to face any sort of resistance, never mind being cut so deeply, let out a loud scream of pain and tried to stop the flow of blood by holding his hand over the wound. As quickly as it had entered, the now wounded hobgoblin turned and ran back out the way it had come in.

The monsters were much larger than she, but there was no way Nisa was going to give up without a fight. She slashed at the second hobgoblin and as it took a step back, she turned and began to climb up the ladder to the second level. Just before she reached the top rung, a slimmy, green hand reached up and grabbed her foot. She let out a panicked cry which seemed to entertain the monsters. There must have been more than a few for the croaking laughter was loud and came from many different directions.

With even greater fear, Nisa fought harder. She slid down one rung on the ladder and began to kick her assailant with all her might till it gave a cry of pain when she connected her heal with its eyes, squashing it like an overripe piece of fruit. When the hobgoblin let go, Nisa rushed up the ladder.

She was now trapped but not without a bit of a plan. Sitting by the ladder were large bags of corn her late husband had stored out of the sight of his customers. They were too large for her to move down to the milling stones by herself and she had planned to separate them into smaller bags that she could manage herself but Nisa was no glad she hadn’t found the time. A gotest hobgoblin, with nothing on but a loin cloth grinned up at her and stepped onto the ladder. With great effort, Nisa pushed one of the bags down the hole and it hit the hobgoblin below, hitting him on the head and crushing his neck in the process.
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Old 04-12-2012, 06:16 PM   #2
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Six feet disturbed the fallen leaves of the forest, two in boots, four hoofed and shod with iron.

The four hoofed feet belonged to a horse, grey in colour and in need of a good grooming to remove the twigs from its mane and the burrs from its coat. A little past its prime, perhaps, but there was still a spark of defiance in its eyes, a hint of glories past. The tack and saddle were plain and unadorned, solid but showing many signs of past repair. Tied to the saddle was a large bundle, and a circular shield of leather-covered steel, about 2 feet in diameter.

The booted feet belonged to a man. He stood perhaps a little more than average height, perhaps just shy of 6 foot. Hard to tell, with his head bowed. His shoulders were broad, and the casual way in which he bore the weight of his sadly incomplete armoured harness demonstrated a degree of strength and stamina that befitted a fighting man.

His armour was that of a knight, though not of a rich knight. A knight who received it as a gift many years past, perhaps, and had not the money to keep it in perfect condition. Incomplete, because he is travelling alone and thus has no squire to affix rembrances and couters to the upper arms of his arming jacket, or cuisses to his thighs. But he has managed to don his cuirass and spaulders to protect his body and shoulders, vambraces and heavy gauntlets to cover his forearms and hands, and greaves to protect his shins. A heavy iron barbute helm hung at his belt, as did a heavy sword. All of the armour had been scoured free of rust, and was a dull metallic grey rather than the shining armour of a fairytale knight.

His face was youthful yet travel worn, with piercing eyes that might have been green, might have been brown. His hair was long, blonde and unruly. There was an angry red scar along his right temple, and his face bore traces of anger and sorrow.

"There..." he explained to his patient horse, pointing at the ground. "You see, Grace? They did come this way." Being accustomed to her master's eccentricities, she whickered softly in reply.

For two days Corbin of Beck, (due the honorific "Sir" but uncomfortable with using it), had been tracking the creatures who had killed his squire. Striking from an ambush of a road the knight had believed to be safe, there had been no warning and Alan had died with crudes javelins in his neck and his chest, died trying to scream through a severed throat, blood spilling down his front. Corbin had been lucky, one javelin had sailed harmlessly over his shoulder, the other glanced off his temple leaving a bleeding gash but not causing serious harm.

The hobgoblins had chosen their ambush site well - a thicket of thorns and brambles lying between them and their target. Seeing that one of their victims lived, and had the demeanour of a fighting man, they had fled and Corbin had been unable to force his way through the tangled thorns swiftly enough to catch any of them. By the time he had buried Alan, and found a way around the thicket, the creatures had been long gone.

A courtly knight might have admitted defeat, but Corbin was no stranger to the wilds. A hedge knight sleeps where he can, and eats wild-caught game more often than courtly fare. Hobgoblins are sly, but they hadn't bothered to cover their tracks, assuming distance would make them safe. Corbin hoped to prove them wrong.

It was his duty. Hobgoblins in these lands meant trouble, and the first duty of a knight was to protect the people of the land. But this was beyond duty. Corbin wanted justice for Alan. Justice? No. Vengeance...

As he travelled on, leading Grace, the sound of creaking wood, flowing water and grinding stone gradually became noticable in the distance. Sounds of civilisation, of people. No need for slow and careful tracking now, the sound would draw the hobgoblin patrol just as surely as it was drawing Corbin. He swung up onto Grace, and urged her into a trot with his knees.

The two travellers crested a rise, looking down the side of a hill, into a valley. A ribbon of water meandered down the centre, and there, below them at the base of the hill, stood a mill.

And there... three creatures loped towards the front of the mill, their cruel parodies of human shape recognisable even at this distance. Corbin quickly strapped on his helm before taking up his shield. He wrapped the reins around the cantel of the saddle, and had already urged Grace into a gallop even before he heard the scream.

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Old 04-12-2012, 11:07 PM   #3
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Commander Gorkin stood in the middle of the road, his long spear in hand, completely consumed by actions of his band. The sound of the female’s cries aroused the hobgoblin leader with promises of what was to come. Even from here, he could smell her fear. It was like an aphrodisiac to the evil creature. Then came the first cry of pain from one of his own. He could hear his scout running towards the woods on the other side of the mill, his screams of pain and panic fading as he made his escape.

Two of his troops slipped in the door past the big paddle wheel, joining their comrades in retrieving the female. Commander Gorkin danced from foot to foot with excitement, not able to contain himself. Another cry came from the female and Gorkin laughed out loaded. At any moment, his troops would drag the female out and they would take her back to their camp in a cooly not far away. It have been too long since he had taken a human female. Reaching down Commander Gorkin slid his slimy hand into his trousers and began to stroke his corkscrew cock.

Then came another scream of pain from his own men. A moment later, his javelin thrower stumbled out the front entrance, holding what was left of his left eye. Commander Gorkin jumped up and down in anger, his cock still in hand, “Orkta said no man! Orkta said no man inside!”


Inside the mill, the four remaining hobgoblins stood around the bottom of the ladder and decided almost unanimously that the smallest of the group should go up and drag the female down. After a great gulp, the hobgoblin rushed the ladder, climbing as fast as he could. he just about made the hole at the top when Nisa pushed another huge bag of corn down, knocking the hobgoblin off the ladder then landing heavily on top of the evil creature, knocking the wind from the creatures lungs as well as knocking him unconscious.

None of the other three really expected their smaller counterpart to succeed, but it would take Nisa time to drag another bag to the ladder. With renewed zealous, the largest rushed the ladder and sprung up through the hole onto the second level. With an yellow, tooth filled grin, the hobgoblin grabbed Nisa by the waist and lifted her over his shoulder. The Miller let out a scream and began pounding the knife still in her hand into her assailant's back. The hobgoblin was halfway down the ladder before he felt the pain. Lit let out of scream but refused to let his prize go. They fell to the floor, on top of two fallen hobgoblin and two large bags of corn.

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Old 04-13-2012, 12:08 PM   #4
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As Corbin rode hard towards the mill, a hobgoblin came running up the hill towards him, clutching an injured wrist, too involved in its own pain to notice the approaching danger.

As a youth, Corbin had been taught to fight by two different men. Master Runcible, his father's master of arms, had taught him how to be a knight - horsemanship, swordsmanship and honourable combat. And Redshanks, a grizzled old man-at-arms, survivor of lifetime of battles, had taught him how to win.

It was the voice of Redshanks he could hear in now. Yer a bastard, boy, ain't no amount of finery can take that away from ye. Stuff honour, the important thing is to be the one that walks away from a fight. Nobody to question yer honour if yer the only man left alive...

A courtly knight might have hesitated at attacking the wounded hobgoblin, especially given the advantages given by being mounted. But Corbin had no qualms drawing his bastard sword and charging down the unfortunate creature. Such a wound on a man might be mortal, but he knew from bitter experience that these creatures were tougher than men and if not dealt with now the brute might well return to the fray as soon as it had mastered its pain.

Never leave a live enemy behind yer, lad...

Guiding Grace with his knees alone, Corbin swung his heavy, 40 inch blade in a sweeping arc that cleanly severed the Hobgoblin's head as he thundered past. Without even a backward glance the pair followed the sounds of monstrous screaming around to the front of the mill. Like a single creature controlled by a single mind, man and horse turned in a tight circle, and came to a halt, facing the a second hobgoblin, this one clutching at a ruined eye.

The miller must be a brute of a man... grinned Corbin to himself as the creature looked up and saw him.

Rage, hatred and a desire for vengeance gave the howling creature the ability to ignore its pain. From its belt it pulled a long-knife with a wickedly sharp blade, curved and serrated. With a guttural cry it sprang towards the mounted knight, letting out a hate-filled battle-scream intended to terrify man and his horse.

But Corbin and Grace were veterans of many a battle, and no amount of screaming and snarling could intimidate either man or beast. Instead, with a kick the hedge-knight bade Grace rear up. Her front hooves flailing, she backed away from the foul hobgoblin, whinnying wildly. Thinking that the horse had taken fright, delighting in the opportunity to rip his knife across its exposed underbelly and spill horse-guts across the floor, the Hobgoblin charged in close.

Locking his wrist and elbow rigidly, Corbin made his sword an extension of his arm, pointing forwards in a single, unwavering straight line, like a lance. As the despicable creature came close, he threw his weight forwards, simultaneously bidding Grace to drop back down onto four legs. With the entire weight of man and horse travelling down the knight's rigid arm, the point of the sword punched straight through the surprised hobgoblin's almost solid breastbone, piercing its heart and killing it instantly.

With a cruel laugh, Corbin planted a foot against the dead creature's chest and pushed it off his blade to crumple onto the ground. He swung down from Grace and gave her a slap on the rump with the flat of the blade, leaving an ugly smear of hobgoblin blood. "Go on, girl!" he shouted, knowing that there was no time to tie her. Even if there was, to do so would make her an easy target if the hobgoblins got past him and found her before he returned. Running free, she could flee, or even fight if needs be, and she was loyal enough to come back when called.

Not knowing what he would find, with at least six hobgoblins unaccounted for, Corbin crashed recklessly through the door of the mill, bellowing a wordless challenge - but was brought to an abrupt halt by what he found within.

One hobgoblin dead of broken neck, lying under a heavy sack of corn. A second lying motionless on top of the sacks, blood pouring from several stab-wounds in its back. Another rising unsteadily to its feet, apparently having barely escaped the fate of the first.

And two snarling hobgoblins, angry and uninjured, holding a dazed, plainly dressed and yet captivating woman between them...

Snarling the two hobgoblins shoved the woman into the arms of their groggy companion, who even in his dazed state had the presence of mind to grab the lady in his strong bony arms and hold her tightly.

Then they snatched up their weapons and leapt to the attack.
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But most of all I like to make friends. Erotic, or otherwise

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Old 04-13-2012, 01:14 PM   #5
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The smaller hobgoblin gripped Nisa tightly around her waist and neck. She smelt so good. He con't help himself. As the Female struggled in his grip, his forked tongue snaked around her neck and across he cheek, tasting the sweat from her day of work and the fear she felt in the hands of her capture.

The feeling of the slimy things tongue gave Nisa over to her fears. She began to kick and scream and bite, clawing at the evil creatures arms with her nails. For all her efforts, all she accomplished was to excite the creature even more as well as renew his comrades purpose. They had their prize and now all that stood between them and an evening of maiden fucking and feasting was one single man.

Hobgoblins were not considered smart creatures but even after the fall and hitting his head, this hobgoblin knew that he didn't want to fight the man who suddenly appeared through the back entrance. Instead, he turned and began for the front door. As he did, his hand tightly wrapped around Nisa's waist loosened and reached up and began to untie bow at the front of his prizes blouse that held the neck hole tight and up over her shoulders.


Commander Gorkin only heard the sound of the females screams. She was afraid. He could smell her fear. Images of fucking the female to death flashed through his evil little mind. As Orkla emerged holding the female tightly in his arms, rubbing his body against her as he walked out of the mill dust, Commander Gorkin bounced from foot to foot, his arms out reached, hands grasping for the prize. "Give me! Give me! give me!" He ordered.

Orkla reluctantly loosened his grip on the female, desiring to rub up against her a little more before his commander took the human. Nisa didn't let the opportunity slip past. As the hobgoblin let her go, Nisa turned and brought her knee up to the smaller hobgoblins crotch, slamming her knee then shin into his balls and hard corkscrew cock.

Orkla let out a cry of pain then doubled over. Nisa tired to push him out of the way and run for the bridge, but commander Gorkin wasn't about to let her get away. He grabbed her by the waist and laughed as he pulled her back. Nisa swung her fist back, but it only hit his arms, leaving nothing more than a small blouse. He laughed out loud as he pulled the female back against his body. Gripping her tightly by the waist, Commander Gorkin couldn't help himself, He pulled on the top of the females blouse. It fell down over her shoulders, her round breasts exposed. Nisa screamed more, fighting harder to get away but this only further excited Commander Gorkin. he reached for the ties of her long skirt when Orkla croaked, "No! We run!" Gorkin glared at his scout but waited for a reason. "Metal covered man inside." he pointed, warning of the dangers that still lingered close by.

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Old 04-13-2012, 03:28 PM   #6
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As the pair of armed hobgoblins leapt towards him, Corbin could see the grotesque smaller creature laying its hands on the captive lady, before dragging her outside. Anger filled him like cold fire, for he if he knew what fate would befall her should he not slay his attackers quickly.

Two against one were not ideal odds but the creatures had ruined their advantage by attacking without thought. Taking three swift steps to the right put his back against a wall and put one of the creatures behind the other, giving him a chance to fight one-on-one. The one that found itself nearest, naked except for a loin-cloth and weapon-belt, rushed at him. It raised a heavy wooden club studded with iron spikes and in response, Corbin began a massive overhand blow, his sword following an unstoppable arc that would cleave the creature in two, if it it did not get out of the way.

Laughing at the stupid human who would make such a clumsy, obvious attack, the hobgoblin hopped to the left to avoid the blow - just as Corbin had anticipated. The solid steel boss of his shield slammed into the creatures chest with all of the knights great strength behind it, breaking ribs with an audible Crack! The very breath knocked out of its lungs, the vile brute staggered backwards, reeling from the blow.

The second hobgoblin, wearing a patchwork of leather armour reinforced almost at random with plates of black iron, sidestepped deftly around its staggering companion. Corbin swore - he had hoped the two would collide and become easy prey, but no such luck. This creature showed a gleam of cruel cunning in its eyes. Its improved armour suggested to Corbin that his fresh attacker held a measure of rank amongst this raiding party - rank that could only have been earned by skill at arms. This would be no easy fight.

With a sickle-like blade in its left hand, and a short-spear gripped half-way along the haft in the other, the Hobgoblin attacked. Corbin set aside a thrust of the spear with his sword, and caught the sickle on his shield, wincing as the tip of the blade cut straight through the leather cover and scraped over the steel beneath with the horrid shriek of metal against metal.

The creature had seen that it's best chance of winning this fight was to deny the knight the advantage of reach that his long-bladed sword gave him, and had pushed its way in close. It hooked its sickle-blade over the edge of the knight's shield and jabbed the spear directly at Corbin's face. In response, Corbin moved to parry, realising to late that it was a feint.

The sickle blade jerked downwards, taking the shield with it, and the spear-tip changed course, stabbing into Corbin’s exposed upper left arm, where no metal armour lay for protection. The knight's thick arming jacket robbed the blow of some force, but still Corbin felt the sting of a wound and felt blood begin to seep into the off-white quilted material.

Ye think ye can only hit a man with what ye have in your hand, lad?

Angrily, Corbin dropped his sword, of no benefit in this tight space, and as the spear withdrew his hand shot out and grabbed it, just above where the hobgoblin itself was holding it.

He yanked the creature towards him, hard, and slammed his steel-clad forehead into its face, breaking its jaw and nose and sending vile blood streaming down its chin. In shock, the foul brute let go of its spear, leaving Corbin holding it, albeit backwards with the blunt end facing his foe. No matter - he ruthlessly jabbed the butt of the spear into the hobgoblins stomach, and as it doubled over from the force of the blow he brought the rim of his shield down onto the back of its neck, sending it crashing to the floor with 2 crushed vertebrae.

The first hobgoblin had by this time recovered its breath, but at the sight of its companion being battered lifeless to the ground it turned and hobbled towards the far door. Corbin tossed the captured spear lightly into the air, and caught it in a reversed grip, allowing him to twist it forwards, bringing the blade to the front. He ran at the retreating hobgoblin with the spear held high, and rammed it downwards into its naked green back, a couple of inches below the shoulder blades, just to the right of the spine. Not worried a jot that he had just stabbed a fleeing creature in the back, Corbin released the spear. Coughing up bright red blood, the unfortunate hobgoblin fell face down onto the floor and gurgled out its last breath.

Breathing hard, wincing at the pain in his arm, Corbin carried out a quick count...

Two wounded hobgoblins slain outside. Two already dead or dying here before I arrived. Two more to join them... two yet live, and one must be the leader of this band.

Pausing only to retrieve his sword, Corbin stepped out of the door.

"Unhand the lady, you cowardly filth!" he bellowed, before, for the second time in minutes, being brought to an abrupt halt by the scene before him.

He stood stock still, the only motion the harsh rise and fall of his chest. He could feel blood trickling down his face where his desperate helmet-strike had caused the scar on his temple to reopen, and the red patch of blood soaking into the left sleeve of his arming jacket was getting visibly larger with each hearbeat...
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But most of all I like to make friends. Erotic, or otherwise

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SRPs I am involved in: Under Hedges and Mill Stones, Lust in the Library, Swords, Sex and Sorcery, New in Town, A Corporate Affair, Star Wars: Too Good To Be True, A New Level, Parent's Evening (open for critique). I love feedback, feel free to drop me a PM.
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Old 04-13-2012, 09:29 PM   #7
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As the knight stepped out of the dusty mill, Nisa felt her heart flutter. The Gods had smiled on her, sending help, and a knight no less, to save her from the horrors she heard befell women who were misfortunate enough to find themselves in the hands of such creatures. She continued to struggle but since help had already come, screaming would do her no further good.

Commander Gorkin could see what the female did not. The man was hurt and distracted, and there were hobgoblins and only one of him. “Tin man talks big even when he’s alone. Well tin man, this piece of meat is Commander Grokin’s. I be takin’ what’s mine and Orkta here’s going to take care of your tin arse.” The hobgoblin took a few steps back to where he had dropped his spear on the road and with finesse very uncommon to his race, with the tip of his toe, flipped his spear up off the ground to his waiting hand without releasing his grip on his prize. Holding the spear out towards the would be hero, he began to walk slowly backward, towards the bridge.

Orkta was not at all pleased by being sent to fight the knight. Injured or not, the man still was dangerous. The scout took a second to consider if the man in armor could be more dangerous than his own commander but then decided to take his chances with the knight. Commander Grokin was brutal even amongst his kind. Not a hobgoblin to cross. Orkta unsheathed a rusted short sword with more nicks than actual cutting blade and with a loud croke, charged the knight.

Nis continued to fight her assailant. His arm wrapped so tightly around her waist so tightly she could barely breath. She balled her hands into fists and began beating the hobgoblin’s arms. She kicked with her slippered feet, driving her heals hard into the creatures shins. She thrashed about, trying to break his grip to no avail. Commander Grokin only laughed a deep gargled laugh. All her fighting only excited him more. “Keep fightin’. It makes me want you more.” He pulled the spear across her chest, holding her tighter to his body then began snaking his long tongue began to slide over her shoulder as he pumped his pelvis into the back of her heavy skirt.

Once again, fear took Nisa and she began to fight harder, at one point, tossing her head back and connecting with the end of her captors nose, breaking it.
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Old 04-13-2012, 10:40 PM   #8
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Good... thought Corbin as the Hobgoblin charged towards him. If he'd decided to use a threat against the lady to make me stand down, I don't know what I would have done.

The wound in his arm was taking its toll, making it hard to lift the shield quickly enough for it to be of use, and so he cast it aside, instead taking his bastard sword in a two hands, his right hand on the grip and his gauntleted left hand clamped around the blade just above the cross-guard. He adopted a stance copied perfectly from one of the swordsmanship texts Master Runsible had force him to study - left foot slightly forward, right foot turned at an angle and slightly back, body side on to his attacker, the sword held just below shoulder-height and the blade pointing skywards, tilted just slightly back. Corbin's unblinking eyes stared at the approaching creature.

"Six of your friends lie dead already, filth..." snarled Corbin, his voice low and filled with venom, speaking his words slowly and carefully, full of menace. "Four by my blade alone. Why don't you just run?"

Orkta wanted to. He really did. But the only alternative to fighting this human was to face the wrath of Commander Grokin. The hobgoblin scout decided to take his chance with the knight.

The unfortunate hobgoblin really only had one chance. The knight's far greater reach meant that the hobgoblin could be cut down before he was in any position to strike his own short blade. To kill his foe, Orkta would have to evade the first swing of the longer blade and then close whilst the knight was still off balance, getting inside his reach where the longer blade would prove clumsy and the shorter blade could strike many times. He'd seen his fellow hobgoblins fight with heavy war cleavers and knew how ungainly they were - perhaps he could turn this to his advantage?

With a yell he leapt forwards, launching himself into the air. Corbin swung his blade high to meet the creature but Orkta had planned his leap carefully. He hit the ground again just out of reach of the sword, the leap being nothing but a feint, and ducked straight into a roll, confident that the human wouldn't be able to adjust the direction of the blade's travel quickly enough to strike him.

He grinned in triumph as he rose to his feet, slashing at the knight's unprotected thigh and drawing blood - before something crashed into the side of his head, causing stars to flash in his vison and a bloom of pain to fill his mind.

A heavy blade held at one end might be unweildy but that is not the only way to handle such a sword. Corbin's gauntleted left hand had slid up to the centre of the blade as soon as the creature had begun its roll, moving his hands into a classic half-swording grip, giving much greater control of the weapon.

With such control it had been easy to stop the swing and change the direction the weapon was travelling. Grimacing at the pain in his leg, Corbin drove the pommel of his sword into Orkta's temple a second time, and then a third, driving splinters of skull deep into the hobgoblins primitive brain. Orkta spasmed wildly and dropped to the ground.

Breathing heavily, Corbin began to limp towards the bridge where the last hobgoblin stood with its fair captive.

"You will NOT harm the lady whilst I live, cretinous beast!" bellowed the knight. "You are nothing but a coward, sending your troops into a danger you dare not face yourself!"

Got to make him angry... got to stop him from thinking... thought Corbin, his heart thudding in his chest. If he thinks to threaten her to stop me this is going to be even more difficult...

But in spite of the pain of his broken nose, Gorkin did not rise to the insults. He had not risen to the rank of warband commander without being as cunning as he was brutal...
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Old 04-13-2012, 11:58 PM   #9
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Orkta's defeat left very few options for Commander Gorkin, and forced the hobgoblin to change his priorities. His prize, so warm pressed against his body may cost him his life if he played things wrong. Still, there might be a way to get away with her yet.

The knights taunting were answered with a hiss from the evil creature. His first instinct was to run his spear through the man but he had witnessed the man's skill. One doesn't become as old as Commander Gorkin by being stupid.

Dropping his spear but not loosening his grip on his prize, Gorkin reached behind himself and drew a dagger from the back of his belt.

Nisa froze when she felt the cold steel against her collar bone. The hobgoblin laughed at her reaction. He breathed in deeply through his nose, taking in the sent of fear. "That's a good little prize.... but don't you be forgettin' how to fight. Me wants you to do that again later."

The hobgoblin then turned his slimy green eyes to the knight how approached, sword in hand. "Be a good tin man and go sit yourself back in your castle where yous belongs. There's less fun in it for me if mes has to kill her." The hobgolbin then dragged the sharp blade along Nisa's collar bone. Afraid if she cried out that it would just excite her captor more, Nisa closed her eyes tight. She could feel blood begin to run down between her breasts.
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Old 04-14-2012, 11:39 AM   #10
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Corbin took a step forward, sword raised but with a jerk of the knife Gorkin sent a second rill of blood trickling down the lady's quite beautiful chest.

"Yer killing her, Tin man.” Growled the hopgoblin “T’row da sword away!"

Damn the creature... thought Corbin to himself, freezing in his tracks. But then he saw something moving in the tree-line that gave him hope. The creature had made a mistake…

Feigning defeat, he threw down the sword as so ordered, causing the creature to leer in triumph as it used its long tongue to lick blood off Nisa's heaving breasts.

"An impasse, then, beast." said the knight in a low, dangerous tone. "Kill her to stop me, and your game is over. But you can't have her whilst I yet live, because you can't defend yourself and rut at the same time. The only way for you to get what you want is to kill me first."

Corbin removed his helmet, and held it by the leather chinstraps, letting it dangle casually from his hand. Now for the first time Nisa could see her potential rescuer's travel-worn yet youthful face, his tangled mane of blond hair and piercing eyes that seemed to change from brown and green as he met her gaze. Blood still trickled from the angry red scar on his temple.

He took six slow, deliberate paces forward, leaving his sword out of reach behind him, and spoke again, his every word a challenge.

"So... face me. Tie your captive, if you fear she will escape. The knots need not be good, for whichever of us dies will die quickly. I have better armour but no weapon, you have poorer protection but a knife in your hand. Face to face, warrior to warrior, an honourable fight. Winner takes the prize..."

And with that, the bleeding, unarmed knight raised his left arm and made an exaggerated beckoning gesture. “Come here!” he commanded loudly. Then, more quietly, in a tone like a blade hissing from a scabbard “Come here and die.”
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Old 04-15-2012, 02:41 AM   #11
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Nisa's eyes remained shut as the knight called the hobgoblin to combat. It all happened so slowly. She could feel every flick of the evil creatures tongue as it lapped over her shoulder and tasted the blood that ran down her between her breasts from the deepening cut along her collarbone. She felt his arm around her waist holding her fight and his fingers gripping deeply into her ribs. She felt the sharp steel of the hobgoblins dagger as it sliced deeper into her flesh, causing more blood to flow, fueling the horrible creatures desires as well as the man who faced off against him.

Slowly, Nisa forced her eyes open just a bit to look past long eyelashes to the knight who stood before her. He slipped her helm from his head and a mane of blond knotted locks fell free. He eyes held her for a moment as he spoke to the hobgoblin. He challenged the creature for her, refusing to let the creature take her while he still drew breath. Though the alternative was not an option, for a moment, Nisa questioned his motives. Would she find her fate the same at his hands once the knight defeated the evil creature? It was a thought Nisa could not afford to ponder. Her only hope lied with with man.

Commander Gorkin didn't like how things were happening. This should have been an easy thing. A lone female. She should have been weak. It should have taking them seconds to drag her out of the mill. He should be half way back to the band's cave. She would have likely fainted from fear by then. Instead, now here he stood, the only one left. The Master would not be pleased. This tin man would pay surely if Grokin didn't kill him first. From the man's challenge, Commander Gorkin knew he would have to.

Fear held Nisa but she refused to give into it again. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks but the miller refused to let them spill. She would not give the creature any more power over her. It wanted her to scream and cry, fueling it's desire and live. She would not give him any more. The knight before her was putting his life on the line for her.

For a moment she remembered the stories that her older sister used to tell her of white knights who saved beautiful woman from evil creatures and evil men alike, then took them for their brides, preserving their innocence and forever living happily and in love. She also remembered the men who raided her village, wearing shining armor and taking woman and girls, cutting down the men who stood in their way, robing them of their innocents, their valuables and as often as not, their lives. But this man did not shine like they did. There was other differences. Something in his eyes.

As he tossed his sword aside and challenged the hobgoblin, Nisa's eyes grew wide. Was he mad? How was he going to defeat the hobgoblin with no weapon?

Commander Gorkin thought the same thing with a smile. The idea of tyeing the female did cross his mind but a better idea came to mind. Something that would serve his purpose and distract the tin man who seemed interested in the female as well. The hobgoblin flipped his dagger in his hand and hit the female in the side of the head. Not hard enough to kill her for he still wanted her to fight when he finished with the male.

Nisa let out a cry as stars filled her vision. She felt herself falling then hit the ground hard as the hobgoblin tossed her aside. The miller lay on the edge of the bridge for a moment, dazed then struggled to sit up, but the vertigo was to strong so she slumped back to the ground.
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Old 04-15-2012, 04:40 AM   #12
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His captive taken care of, Commander Gorkin took stock of the situation.

Tin man has slain my warband... thought the hobgoblin, ignorant of just how much damage his captive had done and crediting the knight with more than his due share of the killing. He might be dangerous even now... no need to hurry...

He began to slowly stalk towards the knight, crouching low. He took his time, seeing that the man was still bleeding from three wounds - every second that past would weaken his enemy further.

And then he let out a snarling shout of triumph. The human was an idiot, had made a huge mistake, a mistake that would cost him his life.

"Stupid, stupid tin man! Gorkin spits on your honourable combat."

***

Corbin winced as the foul creature battered the lady to the ground, he had hoped to spare her further pain. He watched the creature approaching, content to let it come slowly - what Corbin had planned would take very careful timing.

And with resignation, he heard the creature let out it's dishonourable exclamation, and watched as the Hobgoblin commander ducked as he stepped forwards, then rose up with its spear in its hands.

I half expected that... thought the knight. Would have been far, far easier without. He watched as the grinning hobgoblin stepped closer, more confidently now, sure of victory. Only one chance to get this right, it is not just my own life I risk... now!

He began to laugh.

***

Holding his spear point in front of him, certain of victory now and eager to return to the rape of the delicious human woman as quickly as possible, Gorkin advanced - only to be brought up short as the human laughed at him. He glared, suspiciously.

"What funny, human? You laugh at death?"

The knight shook his head, still grinning. "Foul creature, I didn't expect you to fight with honour. Scum like you fight with cunning and brutality. I prefer to fight with...Grace." Corbin raised his voice to a bellow.

"Grace! Charge him down!"

***

Grace had not been pursued when her master had sent her running, and had stopped as soon as she reached the shade of the trees. When nothing seemed to be happening, she had whickered softly and begun to graze contentedly. She ignored the sounds of combat from the mill and paid no attention to the unfolding drama.

But then she had heard her master's voice shouting "Come here!" and looking down the slope saw him beckoning. She had begun to walk cautiously down the slope towards him, wary of the fact that there was an enemy between her and him. Moving with surprising quiet for such a large animal, she had slowly closed the distance.

And then, on her master's bellowed command to charge, she had broken into a gallop, the joy of battle singing through her blood. This is what she had been bred for, trained for and what she took joy in. She powered towards the foul-smelling enemy, her iron-shod hooves kicking divots from the grassland at every step.

***

Gorkin turned as he heard the thunder of hooves behind him expecting to see another knight bearing down upon him and was relieved to see that his new foe was nothing but a rider-less horse. He knew how to kill horses...

He braced the butt of his spear against the ground and directed the point towards the animal's broad chest, waiting for it to impale itself.

***

As soon as the creature turned it's back, Corbin jumped forwards, leading with his almost useless left arm. Starting with his right arm stretched out behind him he swung the heavy iron helmet in an accelerating arc, using nearly every muscle in his upper body to increase the force behind the attack. The blow struck the hobgoblin of the side of the head with a loud metallic boom and a crunch of fracturing bone. It dropped to the floor, its spear falling uselessly beside it, and Corbin jumped clear just as Grace arrived, tossing his dented helmet aside.

Two of her heavy feet struck the hobgoblin as she cantered over it's prone figure, crushing flesh and breaking bone. As soon as she was past, Corbin leapt onto the creature, straddling its chest, pinning its arms to the floor with his legs.

Filled with visions of what the creature had planned to do to the lady from the mill, he snarled angrily. "How dare you touch her! You filth! You scum!" Consumed with rage he began to smash his gauntleted fist into it's face, over and over again until his fist ached, his shoulder burned and there was nothing left of the creatures face but a bloody ruin.

Then he staggered to his feet, blood and sweat plastering his hair to his face, taking deep, ragged breaths, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side and approached the dazed, bleeding and yet achingly beautiful woman. He slumped to his knees before her.

"My Lady..." he whispered reverently. "Corbin, of Beck, at your service..."
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Old 04-15-2012, 01:32 PM   #13
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Nisa Slowly pushed herself up to a sitting position despite the pounding in her head and the dark spots clouding her vision. With shaking hands she pulled the front of her blouse up, covering her breasts. Blinking hard her vision began to clear and she looked up at the man kneeling before her.

The sun was now just about set behind him. Giving him a orange glow. He almost looked to be on fire just like the dust from the mill appeared in the evening. Nisa's found it hard to breath and her heart fluttered with excitement. Had the God's finally smiled on her and sent her a shining knight from one of her sisters stories? The idea was quickly banished by the miller. Such men did not exist.

With shaking hands, Nisa reached down and pulled the ties of her blouse tight, then tied a quick bow. He had not grabbed her and ravaged her with lust fueled by the fight. He had not stood over her but dropped to his knees before her. Nisa squinted into the light as she slowly raised to her knees as well. He was much taller than her, but she was used to that. His armor was beaten and miss matched, though not rusty. His hair was matted with blood ans sweat and knots. "I am Nisa..... Nisa Sonette."she said softly, giving him her maiden name.

With a shaking hand she reached out and ran her fingers down the front of his breast plate. The steel was cold to the touch. There were dints here and here but for the most part the metal was smooth. Though it wasn't shiny, it did reflect some of the glow of the sunset. "I give you my thanks, Sir Corbin of Beck."
With a shaking hand she reached her hand up to his cheek. She then noticed the gash on his temple. She grabbed his chin and gently turned his head so she could see it better. It looked to be reopened from an earlier injury. Her concern was easily seen on her face as she ran her hand down to his shoulder. "You're hurt." she stated slightly horrified.

As quickly as she could she stood then reached down and looped her arm around his good shoulder, helping him to his feet. "Come, Sir Corbin. We must clean that wound before it becomes infected and you take a fever." He seemed wobbly on his feet so she draped his good arm over her shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist. "The closest cleric is a days ride.... and I wouldn't trust the man as far as I, myself, could throw him. A con if the truth be told. The man only worships coins. His heart belongs to no true God or Goddess."
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Old 04-15-2012, 05:35 PM   #14
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"Nisa..." murmured the knight as he struggled to his feet, captivated by the way her long hair fell around her face as she bent over to help him, admiring the delicateness of her porcelain features and the strength in her arms.

"A fair name for a fair lady... but the wound on my face is naught, a scratch that bleeds but does not threaten, it is always the way with scalp wounds... it is the one in my shoulder we must see too, and quickly. You will have to help me out of my harness..."

But a thought suddenly struck him, and he looked into Nisa's large brown eyes with sudden compassion.

"Nisa... I saw no other living soul in the mill... did these brutes kill your husband?"
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Old 04-15-2012, 08:17 PM   #15
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A smile played on Nisa's lips. There was something honest yet nieve about the man. He did not ask as a way of means to find out if she was married or even if she was alone. he showed concern for a man he thought had fallen.

"If you were going to save my husband, my good knight, you are years to late. The man whom I belonged to died in a bar fight, after bragging about taking the bakers wife and daughter to bed both in the same night, and brag to the baker no less." Nisa gave a heavy sigh and turned away, pulled Sir Corbin along towards the mill. "I thank you kind Sir for your concern for the man that should be here none the less." her thanks came genuinely for she knew that he had no way of knowing.

"Come, let's get you inside and mended quickly so that I might still have time to burn these foul creatures before their stench draws more unwanted company."
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Old 04-16-2012, 03:46 PM   #16
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"My lady... Nisa... your words astound me threefold." responded Corbin. He leaned against the strong yet voluptuous lady as they staggered together towards the watermill.

"The first reason..." he smiles, faintly, "You shame me with your courage. Two Hobgoblins wounded to the point of retreat, two dead, one so battered as to be insensible... "

He shakes his head sadly, causing a fresh trickle of blood to run down his face. A single drop lands on Nisa's cheek.

"I did not fair even half so well when these creatures ambushed me and my squire, two days ago."

They halted by the brutally battered corpse of the ill-fated Commander Gorkin, and Corbin reached down and recovers his helmet. The bullet-shaped barbute had noticable dent in the side from the force of the strike against the hobgoblin's head, but looked reparable with time and a good hammer.

He gave the creature another kick, then winced from the pain of the wound in his leg and addressed the corpse with quiet dignity.

"That was for Alan, loyal and diligent and too young to have suffered such a cruel fate. May he find peace in death..." and here, his voice drops to a snarl "...whilst you rot in the darkest of the hells."

Drawing emotional and physical support from each other, Corbin and Nisa again moved onwards towards the mill, long shadows extending in front of them as the sun fell low over the hills.
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Old 04-16-2012, 05:38 PM   #17
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Nisa shook her head as she thought back to what had happened. Courage was not a word that came to mind. More than once, fear had gripped her so tightly that she had panicked. If she had kept her grip on the knife instead of dropping it, maybe the smaller hobgoblin wouldn't have been able to drag her out of the mill. She should have attacked the larger hobgoblin instead of the smaller when he commanded the underling to hand her over. Maybe she could have gotten away. "We do what in necessary to survive, Sir Corbin. Nothing more."

The knight talked about the ambush that took his squire and then kicked the fallen hobgoblin which seemed to cause him more injury. "I am sorry for your loose, kind Sir.... but give them no feather power to cause pain. Come. Let us get inside where I might mend your wounds."

As they came to the mill, the last light of the sun shown in through the door by the water wheel, it's light falling onto the two large milling stones. Nisa let out a soft cry of distress and released her hold around his waist. The Hobgoblin who she had stabbed repeatedly lay across the stones, it's foul blood ran over then and down between. Nisa pushed the creature off, hoping that the mess wasn't as bad as she thought only to find it worse. She would never get the foul smelling blood out of the pores stones. They were ruined.

With a heavy sigh, Nisa turned back to the knight who had saved her. "Come Sir Corbin." she gestured to a door past the milling stones and to the right. "Twilight fast approaches and time is not something I feel is on our side."
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Old 04-16-2012, 07:10 PM   #18
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Corbin leaned heavily against the wall as he watched the anguished woman rush to the millstones. Seeing her disappointment made her want to comfort her, but the embrace of a stranger, he felt, however kindly meant, would no comfort.

And a man clad in steel is not a man who can hold a woman close without hurting her... he thought to himself, reflecting bitterly that the sentiment was a summary of the life of a knight, and not just applicable to she situation he now found himself in.

"I'm going to need your help, Nisa... to remove my harness." he said aloud, in response to her request for haste. "Better to remove it here where we have room to move, and room to lay it out on the floor.

As he spoke, he had already undone the lacing that kept the vambraces and elbow cops in place on his left sleeve, and they slipped though his fingers to clatter to the floor. He began to fumble with the lacing on the right arm but it was plain to see that the wound in his left shoulder had numbed his fingers, and he fumbled ineffectually with the knots.
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Old 04-17-2012, 12:54 AM   #19
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Nisa watched him silently for a moment then stepped past the fallen hobgoblin and placed her hand on his. When Sir Corbin paused to look at her, she gave him a gentle smile then reached up and began up tying and unlacing the straps that held his armor in place. "When I was a girl, my father was a smith.... mostly horse shoes and plow blades but from time to time he would mend armor." She reached for his left arm and layed it over her shoulder as she undid the buckles along his left side, releasing his breast plate.

"I was given the job of mending the leather that had broken or simply rotted away." Nisa continued to speak in a soft, soothing voice as she lowered his left arm then walked around to the other side. Not bothering to lift the injured arm she reached along his right side.

"Though I will admit that I have not touched a piece of armor since I was still young, some things are not easily forgotten." the memories of her father's accident haunted her memory as she helped remove the knights armor. Once it all sat in a pile on the mill floor she looked up to see the man standing before her in sweat and blood soaked tunic and trousers.

He was so much taller than herself. She barely came up to his chin. Yet he looked so very wary. "Come Sir Corbin." she said softly, as she turned and opened to door to her home.

In the one room she used as her home lay a bed, a small table with two stumps she used for chairs. A wood stove on the outside wall next to a small cupboard with a few cracked dishes. At the foot of the bed sat an old trunk where she stowed away her cloths. There was no window and little in the way of comforts but it held a feeling of coziness. the feeling had never excised while she shared it with her husband but after his death, a feeling of warmth started to take root in the small room.

Stepping in quickly, Nisa lit a twig from the embers in the stove then lit two small bees wax candles: one on the table, the other on a tiny shelf by the bed.
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Old 04-17-2012, 01:08 PM   #20
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With his hand resting on her shoulder, Corbin could not help but stare at Nisa as she unbuckled the harness covering his upper body and laid it aside.

He looked down at her silently as she crouched by his feet, unlacing the ties of his arming hose to strip him of his battered steel greaves struck by the confidence of her actions, listening to her gentle reminiscing about her work with her father.

When she had finished unlacing his boots, allowing him to step out of them, she stood. Corbin looked down into her face and their eyes met. Even with the sweat of fear plastering her hair to her scalp, with the bruise forming on the side of her head, and with the dried blood encrusting her throat, she was beautiful.

"Your husband was a fool to betray you..." he found himself whispering under his breath - then, shamed by his thoughtless comment he turned his head, and looked away, praying she had not heard.

It appeared she had not, as she made no comment.

"Come Sir Corbin.", she said, and at her gentle urging, clad still in his bloodied arming hose and jacket, he followed her into the dark room beyond the door, assuming it was a kitchen or other such domestic space.

He watched her graceful body with slight flush of guilt as she moved quickly around the room . "We will need clean rags, and water" he said, trying to drown out his ungallant thoughts with practical matters. "The bleeding has stopped for now but the clots must be stuck to the cloth... when I... we... remove it the wound is sure to reopen."

And as the candles flickered to life, his eyes lit upon the single bed in the room and ducked his head in shame.

"My lady, this is not seemly... your reputation... you should not be alone with a man in this place..."
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Old 04-17-2012, 07:00 PM   #21
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Nisa turned to face the knight as he spoke. Sir Corbin's head was lowered, his hands clasped in front of himself. He seemed so concerned about such a petty thing when turning him out could mean a sickly death for the knight.

"The woman of the village do not trust me for I have not taken another husband so they accompany their men when they have grains to be ground to flour. If they did not, such men may feel that since my tall and handsome husband had taken most of their women to bed, that I might owe them for his sins. Their miss trust keeps me safe." As she spoke, Nisa crouched down in front of the small cupboard and pulled out 4 small rolls of clean cloth, ready made bandages. "Some believe that I arranged for the fight that killed my husband. I've even heard it said that I, some how, drugged his ale so that he would loose the fight. I have heard that many younger men dismiss the thought of demanding my hand for fear that they may become one of my victims. This allows me to remain free of another forced marriage."

Nisa retrieved a basin from under the table and filled it with warm water from the iron kettle on the stove. "And what would they think if I let the man who risked his own life to save mine take a fever or worse on my own doorstep? I can live with the rest, Sir Colbin...." she walked past him and closed the door behind him, "but that is not something I will have held over my head."

She smiled and gestured towards the table where the basin waited. "I am sure I am safe with you Sir Corbin for you do put wight in reputation and it would be unseemly for a knight to take advantage of a widow willing to help him in his time of need." She reached up and began undoing his quilted jacket. "Besides, you are unarmed and you have witnessed that I'm not the type to be taken easily."
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Old 04-18-2012, 12:28 AM   #22
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Corbin smiled at Nisa's words. "You face cruel gossip and rumour with the same strength that you face hobgoblins, my lady..."

As she unlaced the front of his arming jacket, he could not help but admire her figure, the grace of he movements and the deftness of her fingers. The front of the jacket fell open, revealing his lean body, a fine down of blonde hairs covering his broad, muscular chest and flat stomach. In stark contrast to the tanned brown of his face, Corbin’s body is pale, seldom seeing the sun, and blood loss has made it moreso. The flickering yellow light of the candles made his bare flesh seem the colour of fine honey. His chest rose and fell shallowly as he breathed lightly, and he gazed at the woman before him and the room seemed to shrink down to just him and her, everything else fading into darkness.

A wave of dizziness suddenly stuck - perhaps pain, perhaps loss of blood, perhaps… something else. Corbin clamped his right hand over the blood-soaked area of his sleeve, preventing it from moving, before pulling one of the stumps out from under the table with a deft motion of his foot.

"I should sit, before we go further..." said the knight, quietly, lowering himself gingerly onto the makeshift chair. "You must stand ready to staunch the wound as soon as I remove the jacket... there may be much blood..."
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Old 04-18-2012, 08:56 AM   #23
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Nisa fought the urge to run her hands up his firm chest. She had not been so close to a man in a long time. Before such urges took a life of their own she turned and retrieved a few things from her cupboard: a sawing nettle and thread, a small bottle of alcohol and a small jar of ginger paste.

Once he was seated on the stump, Nisa turned all thoughts away, concentrating souly on the knights wounds. She decided not to tell him that this was not the first time she had mended a wounded man, though it had been many years. With a gentle hand, Nisa placed her left hand on Sir Corbin's chest to steady him while she pulled the jacket free of his left shoulder. Silently she stepped around to the other side and gently eased the quilted jacket from his wounded shoulder.

The gash was deep and dirty looking already. Hobgoblins weren't known for fighting fare and there was a chance the blade had been poisoned if not simply dirty. She soaked a cloth in warm water and gently bathed the wound. Sir Cobrin didn't cry out in pain but she could tell by the way his body tensed then seemed to wobble that he was in agony. Worrying he would pass out and fall she paused and reached her hand down, touching his cheek and raising his chin slightly to look at her. She smiled and said softly, "Would you rather lay upon the bed Sir Corbin so that if you loose consciousnesses, that I might still be able to mend you?"
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Old 04-18-2012, 01:00 PM   #24
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Corbin’s breathing quickened slightly as he felt Nisa’s cool hand on his shoulder, torn between the electric sensation of her touch and the knowledge that soon her tender ministrations would cause him hurt.

As she pulled the quilted material away from the wound he hissed through clenched teeth at the stinging pain as the partial clots that had begun to staunch the wound where ripped away. Thick, dark blood began to seep from the wound.

He knew she was trying to be gentle, but Corbin also knew that she must also be relentless at pulling any debris from the wound – the smallest scrap of cloth or ticking from his quilted sleeve would, if left in the wound, cause it to fester. He opened his mouth to tell her this as she hesitated – but to his surprise had no need to, as he felt her delicate fingers probing deeply into the wound.

The pain was terrible, and he tried to hide it, refusing to cry out, but he could not stop his body from tensing nor prevent the rush of blood to his ears and encroaching blackness at the edges of his vision.

He felt her withdraw slightly, and unwilling to meet her gaze he turned his eyes back to the expertly selected array of items placed on the table, and grunted softly in realisation.

She has tended such wounds before… he thought to himself. The lady is full of surprises…

His thoughts were interrupted by the feel of Nisa’s hand on his cheek, and then her tilting his head up by the chin to make eye contact to speak. As she offered him her bed, decorum and practicality waged a brief battle in Corbin’s head. He nodded, bashfully.

“I would not… but you are right, I should be laid down for this.”

With that, he let her help him over to the bed, limping slightly from the wound in his thigh. Carefully Nisa laid him down atop the linen coverlet, clad only in his padded hose and whatever undergarment might lie beneath them.
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Old 04-18-2012, 10:38 PM   #25
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Nisa brought all the things she needed from the table and placed them on the bed beside her as she finished cleaning the wound. "Just try and relax..... though I'm sure such thing is not easy." With a gentle hand, she washed the last of the wound then reached for her nettle and thread.

With steady hands she threaded the nettle then after knotting the thread she dropped it all in the alcohol bottle then fished it out. "When you are mended sleep must be your primary concern so I must ask what you would have me do with your mount? I would have room in the mill for it, if the beast needs shelter. If not, will it let me unbridal it?" Even with the task at hand, Nisa's mind raced to make a list of all that she must do before she could rest tonight. The hobgoblin corpses would have to be torched, the mill would have to be locked up, and what of the horse?

One thing at a time. She wiped the wound one more time then leaned in close, resting her forarm across Sir Corbin's chest, holding the gash closed as she slipped the nettle through his flesh and made a loop then a gentle knot that would hold but not pucker the skin. He was so close, and so very distracting but Nisa turned her thoughts to the task at hand.

As she worked, the right side of her blouse slid down her shoulder. The cut she received along her collar bone wasn't deep put stretched slightly, opening the wound up along the bottom edge.
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