Saving Dead Dog (Gritty Fantasy Adventure)

[Eleiscion]

Vine

She ducked her eyes from the elf's question. She wasn't a leader to say who was to stay and who to go. She felt the dark woman's focus on her like a needle and did her best to pull in close, to hide anything interesting about herself, quiet and still, like a mouse when a hawk passes over. And then it passed and the noble woman spoke, unnaturally soothing, earning the instant trust and admiration of the villagers. Vine shivered.

She tried to take stock of the situation.

Luther had moved fast enough, and the blond elf had moved very well indeed. Mika was a wall - maybe not much for subtlety, but she couldn't be expected to beat someone's head in with a hammer, so she appreciated those who could. The understanding of the quick and the dead was well understood with her new companions, so that, at least, was good. Which left the dark noblewoman.

As Poppa used to say, with some friends you count your fingers twice after you shake their hands. Vine had the feeling she might eat them while you smiled at her.

The group broke up, and she considered the news of another stranger, yet to announce themselves, but why else would they be here than to go on the job?

Luther brushed past her with the grand plan of finding a meal and a bed. The gathering broke up, dissolving like salt in rain, and the elf whispered in her ear, using the confusion to mask the comment well.

"You will have to tell me what got you so rattled."

Vine didn't acknowledge the request, but did make sure she knew where the other woman had headed. From the looks of it, the baths would be popular this evening. For her part, she would rather be dipped in tar than willingly give up the chance to have a real bath.

Vine returned to the main room, grateful that the villagers were mostly focusing on the red haired woman or the pert minstrel, both of whom were encouraging the more carnal thoughts of their audiences. She tucked herself at Luther's table after retrieving her half finished bowl of stew.

When the maid stopped by to bring food and drink for Luther, she asked for a hot bath to be prepared for her as well. The girl blushed to the roots of her hair, "It would be my pleasure m'lady. Do you require any other service that I can do for you?"

Vine wondered what sorts of services the maids of the inn usually offered. Or thought that outlanders would require of them.

"Just very hot water and a few extra bath sheets, if you please." she shrugged her wings, making the lump under her cloak bunch up for the moment, "Most robes are of little use to me, "I'm afraid."

She smiled at the girl and shook her head softly as she left to serve Mika and the elf in the bathing chamber. She looked to Luther and lifted her cup in a small salute. "I hope you don't mind if I join you while my bath is readied."

 

[SideShowFreak]

OOC: phone post- fix later- yada yada yada

IC:

Luther raised his mug in salute. "Please do. It is always good to have a drink with someone, before you trust them with your life, eh?" He said this a bit lightly, but there was a weight behind his words. It seemed to him that the odd group he was to fight with might be a bit of a mess. He wondered if it would be better to sneak off, in a few hours, with Mika, and just finish the job themselves. Still, Vine had the air of a professional about her, wings or not.

The redheaded maid was off preparing Vine's bath, but her shorter, rounder friend brought him a bowl of mutton stew. She was pleasantly plump with curly blond hair and red cheeks. She did not waste time talking him up, but dumped his stew and kept moving. The pub was filling up, as the word went around the village that there was a minstrel at the inn. Luther thought that it was amazing that even in these dangerous times, the men of the village were leaving their familes home alone, to come down to the pub.

Luther lifted his bowl and just smelled the mutton. It was heavenly. "Hope you don't mind." He did not wait for an answer, but almost inhaled the food. As he took big bites, he thre out a question. "So Mika and I are combat specialists. Fighting is what we do. How do you fit into the mix?"

He had met a few mercenaries who were expert spies, healer or had other specialized skills. Still, most mercenaries died with their boots on and a sword in their hands. The daggers on Vine's waist looked deadly enough, but he did not know how she would use those to fight a man in full armor. As he glanced at her waist, he found his eyes trailing upwards, taking in her exposed flesh. She had perfect, if pale skin and he felt a sudden urge to touch her. Still, martial companions needed to worry about watching each others' backs, not making moves.

 

[Eleiscion]

Vine

"Please do. It is always good to have a drink with someone, before you trust them with your life, eh?"

She caught his sarcastic smile. He had a healthy discomfort for untried teams.

"And even better afterward." her own faint smile echoed his with the benediction. She hoped they would all be able to return to share a drink together again.

She ate with him, he at the pace of a man who is not used to having time to chew before swallowing, she a bit more thoughtfully. Then again, her stew was cooler than his.

"So Mika and I are combat specialists. Fighting is what we do. How do you fit into the mix?"

She inhaled slowly and turned the question over in her mind. How did she fit in? She caught him staring at her daggers and the hips they rested on... and upward to less martial interests. She smiled softly and slid her boot along his ankle, bending a bit over the table showing off her breasts, bound high and tightly together by her equipment belts. She noticed the catch in his breath and smiled more deeply, her eyes on his alighting with passions yet to come.

And then she dropped his coin purse on the table between them.

She sat back, her face returning to her more shielded expression from the warm come on she wore as a distraction. She bit her lip gently, hoping he would take it as the light fingered demonstration it was intended to be.

"I've many talents - procurement, research, anything that requires a certain amount of subtlety, a gentle touch or precision and speed. I'm not useless in a fight, but I prefer to avoid them, by not being found at all, or not being hit when I am."

She smiled, a bit teasingly, but far more honestly than the sultry burn of a few moments earlier, "You should see what kind of knots I can get out of."

After a moments thought she shrugged, "And I can fly, which can be of some strategic importance. Not many beings look up nearly often enough."

She sipped her ale, "How long have you worked with Mika? Is he always... um... like this?"

 

[Katamari Roller]

Kemna watched in silence as the group separated. A couple to have a bath, and the others staying around to drink or have dinner. One of the maids came close, already reaching for her cloak. A stare was enough to make a chill run down her spine, and step back. Kemna would not have a peasant touching her clothes, or her, and creating any trouble now. She silently slid among the people gathering, curious glances heading her way. Her feet barely made a sound on the wooden floor as she walked toward the back of the pub, and its owner. What she wanted right now was to satisfy her hunger.

"Do the rooms here have locks?" She asked with an imperious, cold voice. This kind of voice was not made, or faked. It was bred.

"S-some do, my lady, for those who can pay..."

"I thought we would have free lodging in exchange for stopping the monsters from... drinking your blood..."

The way Kemna said that, it sounded like a very distinct possibility. A possibility that did not require the monsters to be there. The owner reached for a set of keys he kept in his chest pocket and fished the biggest one he could find out of it, offering it to her with a slow and sluggish movement of his arm. His heart was beating wildly in his chest with a strange feeling of nervousness and discomfort suspiciously similar to fear, even though he could not see anything in front of him that could elicit such a feeling. At least, not that he could understand.

Kemna took the key and headed up the stairs. The noise of the pub filling up, the gruff voices of men and the singing of the minstrel making a good accompaniment, followed her. And it made her smile, because she knew this could only mean there would be a few families tonight lacking appropriate protection. Not that a single man could be a match for her, but she relied on stealth to obtain what she wanted. Keman did not want to create a fuss now.

She opened the door. The room was dark, what little sunlight remained outside now mostly gone. But it was clean enough and well furnished with a wardrobe, a bed, and even a chair and desk. The usual room good inns reserved for patrons of high social standing who needed somewhere to do their paperwork. What was most important for Kemna, though, was that the room had a window. She grinned evilly as she turned to close the door, inserted the key into the lock, and turned it. There was a satisfyingly heavy click, followed soon afterwards by that of the window lock being opened, and a cushion being shoved into the wooden frame to keep it from closing.

And after that... the flapping of a small pair of wings...

 

[SideShowFreak]

ooc: phone post, will fix

DLuther had stared a bit more openly, as Vine leaned forward and gave him a deliberate display of her delightful charms. He was not like Mika, who simply demanded what he wanted from a woman, expecting that she would want the same. Still, he felt no shame in staring at a woman who wanted to be stared at. His eyes trailed the dark cleft between her breasts, as her foot slide along her ankle.

He grinned ruefully, when she deposited his own money poach on the table. It was apparent that she had many skills. Maybe she could bare her breasts to the enemy to distract them? It was an unworthy though though. He believed she would be a dangerous foe.

He took back his pouch, as she defined her skills and asked her question. "Is there anywhere I can hide this that you would not find it? Never mind. Silly question." He was still wearing only a robe, tied at the waist, so he decided to leave the money on the table, after all.

"I met my subtle friend in during the Western Rebellion. My squad had been assigned to secure a village called Kettle's Lake. It was a small fishing village on the shores of the Great Central Lake. My short sword snapped off in the hide of some foolish farmer who attacked me with a spade. The blade had been shoddy work it seems.

Mika was a blacksmith in the Duke's service. I showed him the blade later that day, while looking for someone to repair it. It seems that someone had deliberately cheated the duke with inferior weapons. He forged me a new blade, quick as you like." Luther was staring to wish he had that blade, and was starting to feel uncomfortable out of his clothing.

The blond barmaid was backing her round rump up against a happy farmer and shaking it, as the minstrel jumped up on a table and started pounding out a jig on a small fiddle. The farmer was moving his hips in rythm with the lass and had his rough, dirty hands on her hips. His friends were cheeying him on, as the maid bent a bit more and pressed her posterior hard against his groin. His hands roved upwards to cup her big breast, over her bodice. The minstrel was picking up the pace now and fiddling like a halfling possesed.
Despite the almost pornographic floor show, Luther's mind was still focused."You gonna finish that?" Luther glanced over at her remaining mutton stew. "So anyway... You....fly? Well, that is something new undethe sun, eh?"

 

[Eleiscion]

Vine

Vine listened to Luther's story, filing the appropriate details for later - having a couple of well trained fighters, one of whom was a decent armorer, was a boon. She caught the shift in his weight as he felt for a weapon that wasn't at his side. She caught the red headed woman, the source of that dark chill, heading up the stairs with a hurry that told of some discomfort. Her eyes took in the men the barmaid danced with, and those she swung her hips deftly to avoid. She never seemed to stare or watch, but little escaped her notice.

"You gonna finish that?"

She shook her head with a soft smile in answer and pushed the bowl over to his side of the table with a finger.

"You....fly? Well, that is something new under the sun, eh?"

"I do indeed. I don't think it is new, birds have been doing it for ages. I know that some deformities end up being less functional, so I should be thankful mine have their uses, but all in all... my work relies on going unseen. Its difficult when you are new under the sun. Think of it as the quirk of bastard blood." Her voice bit with more anger than she had intended and she grinned apologetically to soften it. "So Duke's men, clearing a forest for small coin," she touched a scar on the back of his hand, "It appears as if you have found quite a bit of adventure already. Do you hunger so for more?"

 

[Cherubian]

Aeshallyn had just leaned back in the tub, eyes closed and fully focused on the sensation of her unblemished skin being soaked by the hot and scented water. She could feel her muscles relax under the welcome warmth and was ontent to savor the moment when she heard the splashing of water behind her as well as approaching steps. Immediately her eyes were open again. She had all but forgotten about the big guy, but the reverse definitely was not true.

Thinking about it now, the simple act of having herself soaped up in his field of vision, even facing away from him - intentional or not – must have been quite the spectacle. At least the visible evidence hinted towards it. Or rather pointed towards it. Upwards. And it was a lot of evidence indeed.

Considering all this Aeshallyn did not even flinch as his large hands cleared away the obstructions and gave him a perfect view on her orbs. 'You show me yours, I show you mine' was the thought that first came to her, and she had to grin up at him. But his fingers continued to linger. Which prompted her to speak, without the upturned corners of her mouth changing position.

"So a single light hearted sentence had been able to get such a reaction out of you? Well, you got to see what you claimed I promised, but I can't recall ever offering to service your tactile perception, now did I?"

 

[SideShowFreak]

Vine traced the back of Luther's hand. He did not mind his scars much, because they told of the life he had lead. Still, his scars frightened or disgusted many folk. It was a kindness to have someone be so open to them, without some morbid curiosity. "I don't exactly crave adventure or anything, but diggings what I am good at. Some men can plow a straight furrow, or sail a ship to port. I know how to fight and to survive. There is no place for the like of me off of the battle field, no matter what my dreams may say." Utes not strictly true. He could see himself as a farmer again, but not as a sharecropper. He would only farm as a Freeman, on his own land, and that was a dream best not utters, since it was hopeless for a man born under his star.

He lated a hand across Vine's, stilling it. And why are you a part of such dealings? There must be an easier way you could earn you daily bread. Do you crave blood, or gold, or does something else point you to this unfortunate life?

He peered at her over the now empty bowls with tired eyes. She was a rare beauty to be sure, to be talking to the like of him, without having some money making motive in her heart. As poor as he was, he knew that the life of each peasant lad and lass was much more dire.

 

[SideShowFreak]

Mika grinned down at the elf and wriggled his thick black eyebrows. "I'm just collecting interest lass." He tweaked her nipples with his strong fingers. "Having seen such perfect breasts, I would be a cad not to show my appreciation for them. One might almost call it an offense to the gods."

He cupped her breasts in his massive paws and still found some spilled over. They were wet and soapy and felt wonderful. He presser them together, making a bodice of his hands. "Surely you would not wish me to offend the local diety of this town?" He had no idea what dickwater dirty the locals worshiped, beyond the major gods. There was always some nature spirit or sacred ancestor who held away. It did not matter though. All local deities were more concerned with earthy matters, such as ritual fornication, than the big boys.

"I have to say lass, I am feeling very spiritual right now!" If possible, his hard on was even more pronounced.

 

[Eleiscion]

Vine

Vine's fingers lightly stroked Luther's hand, paying attention more to his words.

There is no place for the like of me off of the battle field, no matter what my dreams may say." She smiled ruefully at that, a place on the battle field was better than no place at all. She thought about asking what those dreams were, but something in his tone stopped her... everyone deserved privacy of their mind, if nowhere else.

His hand closed over hers, trapping her fingers and holding them still. It was the sort of gesture that usually made her flinch - her quick, delicate fingers were her primary source of income and she hated any feeling of being confined. she understood that it was usually meant to be affectionate, gentle, but the men and women who usually held her hand so were always trying to possess her in some way.

This time she didn't flinch. Her soft stroking fingers went still and were warm under his heavy calloused hand.

And why are you a part of such dealings? There must be an easier way you could earn you daily bread. Do you crave blood, or gold, or does something else point you to this unfortunate life?

She grinned with amusement. "Unfortunate life? I'm free to do as I please, tied down to nothing, and no one controls my fate but me." She squeezed his hand softly and retrieved her fingers. "I'd rather keep my own blood and ignore anyone else's and I've found that while some ways of getting gold may look easier ... this one is easier on me," momentary sadness stilled her tongue, to be replaced by a merry mischief, "and my way is quite adventurous."

The barmaid came by then, retrieving bowls and refilling mugs, eyeing Luther openly in a way that made Vine almost blush. She knew of the interactions of men and women, she'd been with men and taken their gold for it. It simply had never been enough fun for her to seek it out, much less so brazenly, another quirk of her bastard blood, perhaps? She turned away, enough to allow Luther and the maid to make whatever connection they would.

"And Mistress?" Vine looked up again, meeting the girl's eyes with her own relaxed smile. "Your bath will be ready soon." She smiled and thanked the girl. It would feel very good to get clean, and very good to find a room with a door that locked.

 

[SideShowFreak]

Luther found both Vine and the barmaid distracting, but after so many days slogging through muddy roadbeds and being soaked to the skin, he wanted sleep more than he wanted physical comfort and release. As a soldier he had spent many days marching without sleep and knew that even a abort map was a soldiers best friend. Be had learned to sleep in the rain, in a noisy barracks where others threw dice, while standing sentry and in almost any other circumstance.

"Vine, it has been pleasurable sharing table with you, but I really must bid you good night. The morning starts early in the country and I intend to start out at first light." He threw a few extra copper coins on the table for the barmaid and dipped his head to Vine. "Sleep with your blades on. This is a dangerous enough business, but these locals look desperate as well. Can't say as I blame them, but better you spill their blood in the dark of night, than be taken advantage of."

The minstrel lass was singing a randy song about a sailor who whored his way across the know world, only to have his mast cut down my his darling bride, when she learned of his duplicitous ways. Luther shuddered at the bloody final verse, along with all the other makes on the pub who weren't already drunk as drunk can be. He lifted the remains of a pint and downed them quickly, before nodding again to Vine. "On the Morrow then, good woman."

 

[Eleiscion]

She smiled, standing with the fighter, leaving the table to the raucous crowd.

"Sleep with your blades on. This is a dangerous enough business, but these locals look desperate as well. Can't say as I blame them, but better you spill their blood in the dark of night, than be taken advantage of."

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. Not at the advice, but that he would give it to her. She didn't know how to respond beyond a simple nod. For her part, she was more worried about the noblewoman who would be joining them in the morning than the townsfolk who caroused down here.

"On the Morrow." She murmured to his retreating form before gathering her pack and heading toward the bathing room.

 

[SideShowFreak]

The room the bar wench lead him to was tiny, but clean. There was a small bed with a straw filled mattress, patchwork quilt and a real down pillow. A small chest say at the food of the bed. There was only enough room for a small stand holding a lantern and a bowl and pitcher with a small towel. Luther saw that his clothing had been folded and placed in the open chest and his other belonging say in one corner.

The maid looked up at him and twisted a strand of her red hair around her finger. "Is there anything else you'll be needing sir?" The look on her face was half curious of a strange man and half speculative that me might have some coin for her. She was the sort of lass that might give you a quick tumble and ask for promises as you lay on her breast, but curse you by the dawn's light, as you answered the drums' call. There were times when he had taken some comfort there, and would again, but the false promises few stale in his mouth now. Besides which, he was none weary and would have sold his birthright, if he had one, for the bowl of soap he had just eaten and for a good mightn't sleep.

He handed the girl a copper and watched her hips roll out the door. He stripped and knelt on the polished oak floor. He touched head, heart and genitals as he prayed to the Divine Mother to keep him safe in his sleep and to protect him in battle. Most soldiers prayed to more militant faces of the Father God, but ha had been raised praying to the Mother's faces and she had kept him safe and relatively whole so far. He sometimes wondered if they he fought had done the same. He sometimes wished for a world without all of the casual bloodied, but knew it to be an impossibility. The Father demanded blood be spilt, or the rains would not come and the sun would not rise.

After praying for his family and his village, he prayed for each of his new companions. His thoughts went to the angelic for of Vine for a moment and he wondered if she had not been touched by a face of the Divine Mother herself, to have such a form and countenance. If so, he hoped it boded well for the rightness of their quest and that they would all live to spend their reward.

After a time, he stood, blew out the lantern and slipped under the quilt. Within minutes he was asleep.

 

[SideShowFreak]

In a darkened room, on the second floor of the pub, two small shadows climbed in the window and dropped slowly to the floor. They stood only three feet tall and in the dim light of the moon, revealed as the rain stopped, their stunted horns shown dully, as if floating in the hair. There was a smell about them, if the sleeping human had been awake to smell it, like a herd of goats. As they crossed the floor, there was a clicking sound like hooves.

Luther slept on, oblivious to them in his exhausted state. Each pulled a sharp, shiny knife from its belt and started to flip it from hand to hand. The moon lit blades seemed to dance in the hands of ghosts. They started to baa lowly as they walked toward the prone human form.

 

[Katamari Roller]

A small bat climbed out between the wooden planks nailed to a hovel´s windows. A precaution taken against the beasts, effective enough in that case. But not good enough to stop something, or someone, smaller from sliding in from the outside. The bat dropped off the window and then launched itself into the air, trailing wisps of black smoke. It was satisfied, having quenched its thirst with the blood of the poor home´s inhabitants. Happy and elated by the taste of fresh life liquid, it flew back toward the point it had begun moving from: the second floor of the town´s pub and inn.

On the way to the window it was seeking, the red eyes it had, not blind like those of its natural kin, perceived a disturbance both physical and magical around and through a neighbouring window. Extending its wings, the bat glided down until it sat on the windowsill.

The creatures standing by Luther, playing with their knives, were a grotesque parody of sheep. With over-grown legs and arms, with hooves mutated into fingers armored with what remained of their hooves and flexible enough to hold weapons, and with insane faces. Expanded, with jumpy eyes, drooling without control.

Kemna recognized both the creatures, and the man sleeping on the bed. There was, suddenly, an unnatural silence. It was not the disappearance of sound alone, it was the exact opposite of sound. A sudden, absolute deafness. A cloud of noxious, black smoke exploded from the bat with no noise, coating the room in shadows. The sheep beasts turned, their eyes bulging out like fat apples from a tree, waiting to fall. They trembled, terrified, as the pale redhead walked to them in a shroud of shadow and silence, with a red glow circling her fire-stained hair, a glow matched by that of her eyes. The darkness receded as it was absorbed by her clothes, and the glow died off slowly. The animals were scared to the point of insanity, in that they were exactly the same as they had once been, and kneeled pitifully, letting their knives fall to the floor. The clatter sounded muffled as the last strands of shadow merged with Kemna´s coat, and her eyes and hair were once again red, dull in comparison with their look a few seconds before.

Not one word was uttered. Kemna stepped forward, and lowered herself onto her knees in front of the creatures. Her slender fingers reached for their wool-covered foreheads, and sank into it. The beasts stopped trembling, their drool making twin puddles on the wooden floor. Kemna put her will into her fingers like one would pull a muscle, and soon felt around into the creatures´ bodies the same way a cook would explore a stew with a spoon. There was something very specific she was looking for as her soul reached into the frightened minds before her, and she knew exactly what it was. Yet for all the spirituality of this action, it felt physical to her. Like sinking one´s fingers into a porridge. It was a bloody porridge, thick with stupidity and stinging her fingertips here and there with fear, but Kemna had learned a lot in the decades of study she immersed herself. The process of finding what she was looking for was no harder than finding a clock in a bowl of cream. When she had what she wanted, she pulled.

Her hands came out stained with blood, a good amount of it splattering on the floor and mixing with the sheep beasts´ drool. But Kemna spun her hands to look at her palms. There, the blood formed a very distinct pattern that could only indicate the presence of her own kind in the affairs surrounding this town. The animals had been taken, transformed, and made into semi-willing puppets through the insertion of a primitive sense of self, and the liberal application of fear and threats. A classic.

Kemna sighed, somewhat annoyed, realizing how complicated things had just become. With a worryingly natural ease, she took the knives on the floor and sunk them into the beasts´heads. This gesture was purely physical, nothing spiritual to it unless one included the knowledge necessary to use the sharp end of the weapons under that category. The creatures expelled their last breath as they dropped onto the floor with soft thuds.

 

[SideShowFreak]

He cupped her breasts in his massive paws and still found some spilled over. They were wet and soapy and felt wonderful. He presser them together, making a bodice of his hands. "Surely you would not wish me to offend the local diety of this town?"............ "I have to say lass, I am feeling very spiritual right now!" If possible, his hard on was even more pronounced.

Mika fondling were met with a cold stare and a raised eyebrow. He was not the best judge of character, nor did be understand the minds of women. He did know when he had taken things to far though. Of course, he did not mind taking things to far. Nothing ventured, nothing gained was his attitude. If he threw himself into the pursuit of any attractive woman, with both feet... and both hands, then many of them would accept his advances. The ones that did not were bitches anyway, and did not deserve his attention.

Mika was already pawing at her breasts, without her trying to stab him with a dagger, so it not longer mattered. He gave her a grin and slowly released her breasts, but not before bending down into the tub and flicking his tongue over each nipple. Despite her cold eyes, he though he felt them harden. Mika straightened up and stepped back. "Your loss lass. Dinna come cryin' ta me later, 'cause yer wee fud is dryin' oot an' ya need a man ta lick it. I ain't insulted, boot ya could apologize ta me tadger! Dinna worry ma bonny lad. I still love ya." He patted his penis to make it feel better. "Dinna listen ta her. She dinna ken what she be missin'." With that, he walked away across the room, naked as the day he was born, with his manhood preceding him by almost ten inches.

 

[SideShowFreak]

Luther's right hand was his natural one, but could no longer be trusted to hold a sword properly after he lost half of his pointer finger. Instead he had grown used to fighting left handed. In his army days, he had used a large footman's shield and a short one sided blade. A large buckler offered him more mobility though and was easier to hold on to with his damaged hand, if he lashed it to his forearm. The short sword had given way to a basket hilt backsword, which offered a bit more of a reach in a fight. His spear did not present any problems though, since he used it with both hands now. In the army days they had wielded their spears one handed, stabbing around the edges of their tall square shields or bracing it in the ground to stop a cavalry charge.

His left hand threw the dagger forward, stopping only inches from Kemna's chest. The blade did not waver in his left hand. The quilt had fallen away to reveal a muscular torso, covered with scars. His shoulder length brown hair hung loose about his shoulders, with a bit falling in front of one eye. He did not reach to move it though, but sat tensely, dagger still extended.

"Damn woman! You almost got yourself killed! What do you mean..." Suddenly from the corner of his eye, he spotted the wee monster corpses, now sprouting daggers from their heads. "Ah, well." He lowered the point of the dagger very slowly, still keeping it between Kemna and himself.

 

[Katamari Roller]

Any human woman would no doubt have jumped back, squeaking, surprised at having a sharp dagger pointed at them up-close so fast and without warning by someone she thought asleep. But there was a key difference between human women and Kemna: Kemna would not die from a dagger plunged into her heart. And she knew this because quite a few had tried doing that, without the courtesy of then having enough time to realize the mistake. That was something that Kemna relied on sometimes, let the enemy thrust his weapon into her, come up-close. None of them ever let go of their weapon because they were usually well trained, but that was precisely the reason they all died. When you could not kill someone by thrusting a weapon into them, doing so and not letting go gave Kemna all the time she needed to bleed them with dagger... or teeth.

Luther, through luck, skill, luck, or a combination of the three, had stopped himself from stabbing her. That was what saved him. If he had actually rammed her through, Kemna would have had little choice but to kill him. That, as her lovely red eyes could see, trailing up Luther´s body, would have been a waste. Not only was he strong, and obviously experienced, but cunning. The redhead smiled when she noticed how the warrior kept his dagger well within range of a quick step and a thrust. She stood up slowly, not wanting to irritate him, and let her hands hang limply, hiding her palms from him. The bloody sigils on them lost all shape and dripped down her fingers. The motion of standing up let Luther see a brief glimpse of the deliciously curvaceous and sensually dressed body underneath, but only just. Then, it was only Kemna´s short red hair and lovely features crowning a black shadow.

"Ah well indeed." She said with a hint of naughty sarcasm. "I suppose I will take your not stabbing me as my thanks, and leave you to your sleep. I could use some of my own."

She stood still, waiting for Luther to step aside. There was silence now, and quite natural, but if the gears turning in the woman´s mind could make noise, it would be deafening. Kemna was going through a list of known members of her... family... who could be around here, and she was drawing a blank. But a few centuries of knowledge had a lot of room for information holes...

 

[SideShowFreak]

Luther nodded, as he rose from the bed and pulled the borrowed robe over his naked body. "I do indeed owe you a debt of gratitude, good woman. These things are tiny, but their knives would have killed me none the less." He pulled the knives from the bodies and cleaned them on a cloth, before offering them hilt first to their owner. When she had taken back her blades, he grabbed the bodies by their belts and hauled them to the window. "It is odd that they did not wake me. After years of being in danger, I am usually a very light sleeper."

Despite their small size, the sheep creatures were heavy. He grunted as he shoved the first one out of the window, before sending its friend with it. There was blood on the floor of the room, which he could see from the moonlight through the now open window. It was a strange greenish blood. He wondered if the owner would make him pay for it being cleaned up. She did not seem an overly generous short when it came to money matters.

He lit the lantern, before closing the shutters again. "We do need to make an early start of it. Be wary in your slumber. There may be more of the little dears around."

 

[Nerd159]

Tammer Fizzwangle cursed the thick evening mist as he trudged through the muck of the road. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, making sure to give his satchel a good jostling. However, true to form, the wee furry beast inside kept snoring. "Enjoy yerself, Peaches," he grumbled, "Let me do all the work, as usual." Suddenly, his ears perked up. Off in the distance he could hear laughter and music. Thank the gods, an inn! He lengthened his stride and marched purposefully down the road.

The inn was well lit, lighting up the surrounding night, but the rest of the town seemed somber and deserted. In fact, now that he thought about it, the laughter sounded thin and desperate, as if the carousing was meant to hide a deeper fear. Tammer shrugged. Who cares, he thought, as long as I get some of that mutton stew I smell.

He pulled open the door and rushed in, only to bury his nose in the rump of a luscious serving wench. She yelped, nearly dumping the round of ales she was carrying. Tammer hastily backed away, apologizing. She looked down and smiled graciously. He grinned and winked at her, flipping a silver coin at her. Hands full, she improvised and caught the spinning coin in her cleavage. Tammer applauded, then made his way more carefully into the common room, dodging the drunken locals who were too busy to watch out for the gnome threading his way through the crowd.

 

[Nerd159]

Tammer:

Tammer streatched his legs under the long common table. It felt good to get off his feet for a while, even if they did dangle several inches from the floor. The blond barmaid whom he had "met" earlier came back around for his sodden cloak and hat. She leaned in close to take his order, nearly knocking him off the bench with her soft, ample bosom. He grinned widely, savoring her rich, earthy scent. He ordered the mutton stew with spiced apples and a large tankard of ale as an appetizer. She sauntered off, giving him a delightful show of her broad rump swaying like a three-master on a heavy sea. He decided to have some fun, wiggling his fingers with a twist of his wrist, chanting softly, and manipulating the mystical energies of the universe with the power of his mind. She jumped and yelped as the spell hit its mark. A cantrip of his own invention, he called it "Fizzwangle's Goosing Hand." She turned quickly, caught his grin, and waggled a finger at him.

He looked around the common room, taking in the sights. His earlier impression of the forced merriment was dead on. The smiles were there, but they failed to reach the eyes of the deeply frightened farmfolk and craftsmen. The bard was playing a rollicking tune, but she was going through the motions, cynically eyeing the contents of her hat, seemingly disappointed in the ratio of copper to silver to gold. Wait! She looked familiar! He knew that wicked halfling wench. She'd nearly broken his rib the night they met in King's Ford. What was her name? Karla, or Marla...Something like that. He'd have to keep an eye out for that one tonight.

The tradesman next to him was deep in his cups, pontificating to this end of the table. "Aye, the council thinks that they can just throw money at this problem and wish it away. I tell you, those mercenaries will be more trouble than they're worth. They'll corrupt our women and lasses, then run off with the gold, leaving us with the monsters and a fresh crop of bastards!"

The farmer next to him said, "I don't know about that. The gods know we need the help. Besides a couple of them are women themselves."

"Exactly," roared the blowhard. "They'll be corrupting our women with their unnatural lusts. I know the ways of those outland witches. I'm betting they're not even rightfully human!"

His friend kicked him under the table, gesturing at Tammer. He looked down, then blanched as Tammer, with a twist of his mind, summoned a tiny ball of flame and set it spinning around his fingertips. The big tradesman jumped up in a hurry, hustling out of the inn as if his own leggings were aflame. His friend just shook his head, smiling apologetically. Tammer nodded, accepting the conciliatory gesture.

The barmaid was soon back with his ale and meal. She lingered over him, placing a soft hand on his back. Her smile had a hint of a question to it. Tammer straightened, puffing out his chest a bit. His unruly shock of green hair tickled her nose as he stroked his neatly trimmed beard speculatively. Her fingers traced the gold embroidery of his purple vest until she was called away by another patron. Hmmm...a roof, a good meal, warm company, and a possible job. This was turning out to be a decent night after all.

 

[Katamari Roller]

Kemna watched Luther toss the bodies out. She could not help watching closely the movement of his arms and torso as he did so, his silhouette standing out like a dark cloud with a silver lining under the moon light, and a golden one when he lit the lantern. The way he moved was... sensual, in a way. As if with restrained strength. Yes, the way he had almost stabbed her was exactly the kind of strength someone waiting for a soon-to-occur fight would have. Like a wild cat tensing before pouncing upon its victim.

The vampire´s thoughts were reigned in, and pulled into a direction quite different to that of matters concerning monster masters and the dark gears they turned in forests and abandoned castles. Grinning, she took a step forward, right behind him. "You are right, a good night of rest would be good. But sleeping alone, well, that would make me nervous. There may still be some of these creatures skulking around. Having someone in my room to protect me would ease my mind..."

Kemna´s pale hand settled gently on the man´s back, her fingers running down the lines and depressions drawn on it. Her fingernails scraped here and there.