Eye of the Serpent

(There is an out-of-character thread here : OOC: Eye of the Serpent)

Prelude
The night sky over Bavrin held many glittering stars, that gave inspiration to poets and guided sailors across the world. Amongst the many constellations, was the Serpent, a group of five stars.

An old myth said that, when the Serpent closed its eye, a hidden vault somewhere in the the great Talissian Sea would be unlocked. Within was a king's ransom in treasure, including a powerful mystical gemstone which held a Djinn who would grant wishes to its possessor.

Six nights ago, the topmost star in the constellation of the Serpent disappeared - some unknown cosmic event hiding it from view on Bavrin. Those aware of and held belief in the ancient story paid this heed, though few had the resources to act on it. Foremost of those who could, was the Witch Queen of Taliss herself, Melanthe.

She would not be alone in her search for the magical gemstone known as the Serpents Eye however. Also heedful of the myth was Jarak, and as any sailor adventurer worth his seasalt he too decided to seek it out, and set to provisioning for a lengthy voyage for the Sea Fox, the ship he captained.

Both Melanthe and Jarak had loyal and stalwart companions to aid them on their quest. Melanthe would be accompanied by Solvitur, her brutal yet efficient High Lord Marshall, and a warrior named Sarage, an Aegyptian ex-slave who spoke little save with his blade. Jarak had the assistance of three crewmates who oft accompanied him ashore on his more adventurous escapades, Calandra, an adventuress whose sharp eyes and expert aim would make her arrows a great boon, and Zander, an axeman whose prowess in combat was not inconsiderate, and Olvan, a giant of a man who prodigous strength had aided several times in the past.

***

The galley Serpent of the Mist was three days from port, and the smell of the salt ocean breeze was strong in the slavehold as the oars cut a wake in the water. The steady thump, thump, thump of the drum beat out the rythm for the galley slaves working at the oar, every so often interspersed with the sudden crack of a whip. Where a slave fainted from simple exhaustion or hunger and thirst, he was force fed a cup of water from a bucket carried by a scurrying slaveboy and a chunk of broken bread, and helped back onto his oarbench, manacle chains rattling.

The ship was one of many in the large navy of Taliss, and the slaves onboard it a few of thousands who worked at oars, in fields, in deep mines and quarries, whilst more fortunate slaves worked in the homes of the wealthy, but even there they were oft given more than their fare share of toil. Taliss, the Land of the Witch Queen, the matriarchal figurehead of a land which had waged brutal and bloody war many times with its neighbours over the centuries.

Such a war seemed to be brewing again. Already the ambassadors of other kingdoms had struck what bargains they could at the Witch Queens court and returned to their homelands. It was not known why the Witch Queen had been again mustering her forces or to which horizon she had set her dark gaze, but it appeared as if the uneasy peace of the last few decades would be soon be shattered.

Above the dank dark slave hold and oar banks, the galley was perhaps the finest example of the expertise the shipbuilders put into their construction in Taliss you would see. Sleek and menacing, the prow sported a ram that rode just over the waterline capped with a serpentlike scowling face. The great sail, currently furled, was blood red in colour. Sailors went about their business with practised ease, and several soldiers in red surcoats and black-stained chainmail stood silently but watchfully on guard about the deck, hands resting on the hilts of their curved scimitars.

***

Berthed at the island port of Halinth, a notorius place of refuge for pirates and other adventurous seafarers who preferred to align themselves with no one country, some three weeks sea travel from the coast of Taliss, was the Sea Fox. The captain of that sleek vessel was sat upon a barrel on the quay, watching people go about their work, nodding politely to some he recognised as they passed, greeting others with whom he had shared a previous voyage or mug of ale by name.

Jarak was his name, known in many places as the Prince of the Nine Sea's, was a sailor who was nearly a living legend. Fair-haired and with deep blue eyes like the sea's he knew so well, he was dressed in a simple dark leather jerkin, breeches and worn black boots.

At his hip hung a long slender-bladed scimitar, with which he was almost as adept as he was a master navigator, and tucked into his belt were a pair of daggers with which he had won many a coin at throwing contests in taverns. His skin was well tanned from long days beneath the sun. Lithe built but strong set regardless, he stood just shy of six feet tall at his twenty-five summers of age.

The last of the provisions was being loaded aboard the Sea Fox, and once his companions had returned the ship would set sail on their latest adventure. If a contact of Zander's was correct, an old cartographer held in his possession a map which might hold clues to the Serpent's Eye. Zander and Calandra had headed into the bustle of the port to seek him out and see what knowledge they could gain, if they could not gain the map itself.

Queen Melanthe of Taliss

Four days earlier...

Her throne was an elaborate affair. Fashioned from the finest heartwood of jet-black ebony, its luster gave off an almost metallic appearance; and the ornate serpents which adorned its high back and arms were carved with such minute detail that they seemed to come alive in the dim torchlight of the room. Some might say it was the centerpiece of the room -- but only those few who had never been present when it was occupied by the Queen, as it was now.

Her raven hair shone like obsidian against her translucent ivory skin and her eyes... Her eyes were as dark as bottomless pools of black water, compelling one to drown in them as many had and many more would. Melanthe was tall and well-formed, her breasts large in proportion to the slimness of her body. When she stood; her gown, made of the finest sapphire blue silk, whispered as she walked, the scent of her exotic perfume wafting about the room.

The Queen was growing impatient. Solvitur had not yet returned from tidying up a few loose ends in regard to Aziz who had been unceremoniously discharged from his post as Court Astrologer this very evening. He hadn't missed the "sign" -- only a blind man would have disregarded the missing star. Oh, no. What he hadn't done was furnish the scroll which held the key.

Melanthe had it now, however, though it had cost her precious time. As for Aziz... well, he would not have a second chance at being remiss in his duties to the Queen of Taliss. She chuckled as she ran her fingers over the symbols.

The scroll radiated a certain warmth that would have made a lesser woman shudder; Melanthe merely smiled. It was made of human skin -- the skin of an infant -- and the markings were fading. Legend had it that they were the rantings of a madman (though some called him mystic). Legend also had it that they had been written in his own blood. But she cared not for legends -- only results.

The man was dying slowly, as was just and fitting. He was also dying very publicly, which was more the point of all the torture. His failure had demanded his death, but the public display of his ruined body and eventual death would serve as a lesson to prevent future mishaps. First had been the standard softening process, beatings to exhaust his body and break down his will. Then the mutilations had started. The first thing to go had been his eyelids, followed by his lips, then his tongue. Finally his belly had been slit open and a jar full of fireworm larvae had been emptied into his torso, which was then sown back up. In about a day or so they would hatch and the worms would begin devouring his flesh as they sought their way out. He was already being lashed up between two posts in the Grand Square, where people could watch as his body slowly began to erupt the two-inch monsters. Now, none of this was actually guaranteed to kill him. Men had been known to survive the process, now although Aziz wasn't the most healthy of individuals, the human spirit did have a remarkable capacity for survival. However, a few days hanging in the open Square under the hot sun, bleeding from his wounds and his ruined abdomen, guaranteed he would die eventually. His head would then be chopped off and placed on a spike at the city gates while his body hung in a crow's cage by the harbor. Reminders of the man's end and the failure that had caused it.

Of course, his wife and children were already dead. Their deaths were required, but no example was needed from them. Their only crime was being related to the wrong man. That was enough though, children had a way of remembering their parents deaths and often then grew up with thoughts of revenge. It was a rule Solvitur had learned to live by, don't leave potential enemies behind. Always kill the children, it made things a lot less complicated. Nobody coming after you ten or twenty years down the road when you weren't expecting them. Since the family had caused him no personal trouble, their deaths had been quick and painless, no need to watse the effort with something complex.

Solvitur's boots clicked on the floor as he made his way to the thorne room. They had finally reported to him that the Serpent was ready to sail, and they would be leaving on the next tide. His armor gave a dull black gleam in the torches. The sword belted at his waist was intricatly craved with twsiting snakes, and a bright ruby shone in the mouth of one at the pommel. It had been a gift from the Witch Queen herself, and one of Solvitur's most prized possessions. Both beacuse it had come from the hand of the Queen, and two because it held some rather unique properties. He strode through the massive double doors leading into the throne room. The Queen was on her feet in the center of her room, holding her precious scroll, the one that would lead them to her gem. It was already her gem, she wanted it, so it was already hers. The fact that they did not actually have it yet was inconsequential, she wanted it, she would get it. That's what Solvitur did, provide things for his queen. Whatever she wanted, he got for her. No matter who or what stood in the way.

"We're ready Your Majesty," he said when she looked at him. It was all she needed to hear from him. When he said they were ready, it meant that he had taken care of everything that needed to get done.

Zander

As Zander walked downtown the smell of ale and fresh cooked meat washed over him. He was dressed in studded black leather armor with a hook on the back that he hung his axe from.

All around him shop keepers were selling everything you could imagine. When he got clear of the marketplace he noticed a small sign that said "Arrow's Tip" in big black letters. The sign was attached to an old inn that looked like it would fall over at any second.

He turned back to see Calandra following close behind.
"This is the place." he said and opened the door.

Light spilled into the dark inn. To his right there was a bar and to the left a couple of tables with a few people here or there. Zander walked over to the bartender.

"We're looking for a map maker and I'm told he is staying here."

The bartender told Zander the map maker, whose name was Vinar, staying in room four. He thanked him and started upstairs. When they reached the door to the room Zander turned towards Clanadra.

"Ready?" he asked as he raised his hand to knock on the door.

The door slowly opened to reveal a room lit by candles. There were maps spread all over the floor. In the middle of the room was a man dressed in a black cloak. He was sitting on a chair facing the door.

"I've been waiting for you Zander and Clanadra." Vinar said in a deep voice.

It didn't occur to Zander until Vinar spoke that there was something wrong with his face. He had no eyes. Just empty holes were his eyes should be. "How do you know our names?" Zander asked.

"I know more then you think. I know you are here for this." Vinar removed a document from his cloak. "You my have it if you give Jarak a warning. The only place this map will lead him is to pain and anguish."

Zander took the map from Vinar and handed it to Calandra. "We will give him the message." he said as they walked out of the room.

"Crazy old man." He whispered to Calandra.

Olvan stared at the piece of paper Jarak had given him. He knew that it was a word, followed by a number. He couldn't make out the word, or the number, but he knew it was supposed to tell him what dock the Sea Fox was moored at.

I suppose I'll just walk up the dock until I find the number that looks like the one on the paper, he thought to himself as he paused. The two huge barrels under his arms weren't too heavy for the huge man, but he they were slightly bulky. He decided that his plan needed a bit of revision. Stopping the first person who looked like a sailor, Olvan stopped and rested the two barrels.

"Excuse me, good man" Olvan said in his heavily accented voice "I am for looking at my ship. It is on this piece of paper. Where is it, yes?" The man looked strangely at Olvan and pointed him in the direction he needed to go. These small people, Olvan chuckled, always so nice and helpful.

Olvan shifted slightly and adjusted his well worn and stretched to capacity tunic as he finally caught sight of the ship. Olvan had been getting bored on land and relished the chance to get back on the sea, searching for adventure again. He noticed Jarak sitting on a barrel and rushed up to him, dropping the two large barrels he was carrying.

"Jarak my good friend" Olvan yelled as he grabbed the captain in a bear hug "It is good for seeing you again"

"Thank you Olvan, it's good to see you as well" Jarak replied as Olvan put his friend down.

"I am for telling you, nine princes of the sea, it feels good to be back to adventuring again. Life on the land feels a little too restructured." Olvan said with a guffaw, mangling the language as always. "So where are we to now? Perhaps we find a cyclops for Olvan to box?"

"Uh, well" Jarak tried to answer before Olvan cut him off again.

"Also, to have a merry sailing adventure, Olvan has bought two large barrels of Rum." He pointed to his cargo "I am for hoping everyone else has brought their own rum as well, yes?"

He rubbed his arms from the bearhug he had just received. Sometimes the gentle giant didn't know his own strength, but Olvan's jovial nature was almost infectious.

"I'm sure everyone will have their own tipple," Jarak replied with a smile. "Yes, this will be quite an adventure I am sure, though what lies ahead is still a mystery. I'm hoping Zander and Calandra return to some clues to our destination at the very least. I have some old sailor stories to go on, but something a little more solid would be useful."

The island of Elinth. He felt certain that was their destination - it had a harbour which was called in the few stories he had heard - and Jarak had heard them all - the Snake's Maw, and was said to have a gemstone that shone like a star hidden on or in the island - too much of a coincidence.

The dangers on the island included 'dancing flames' and 'hunger on wings,' though what that actually alluded to he did not know. Jarak merely understood them as obstacles to be overcome, as they had overcome so many before in past adventures. That was the goal in his mind - to test their mettle against the odds fate would put in their way. The treasure itself was almost inconsequential to him.

Calandra

As Calandra followed Zander through town she enjoyed the feeling of anticipation that coursed through her body. She always got this feeling whenever she was about to embark on a new adventure and this one promised to be one of the greatest. The legend of the Serpent was one of the many extravagant tales Jarak would tell after they'd all had too many mugs of ale.

Seeing Zander stop Calandra put her mind back on the task at hand. She followed Zander into the Arrow's Tip, letting her eyes move over the few patrons seated at the tables. Zander didn't have any trouble getting the information he needed and they were soon standing at the map maker's door.

"Ready?"

Calandra gave a small nod as Zander moved to knock on the door. His hand was still a few inches from the door when it swung open on it's own. They stepped into the room, senses alert. Calandra's gaze flicked over the shadows in the room that the many candles made, finally stopping on the man sitting in the middle of the room. She felt her mouth open in surprise when he greeted them by name. Zander also hadn't expected this and quickly asked how he'd known.

"I know more then you think. I know you are here for this. You my have it if you give Jarak a warning. The only place this map will lead him is to pain and anguish." the old man said as he handed Zander a rolled up parchment.

As they left Calandra let out a sigh of relief. She knew this map would give them at least some of an advantage.

As they neared the Sea Fox she saw that Olvan was giving Jarak one of his famous bearhugs. She tried not to laugh as Jarak rubbed his arms with a bit of a pained look on his face. He turned as he heard them come up and Zander handed him the map with a flourish.

Jarak smiled, as he turned and saw his two other main travelling companions return. As Zander held up a rolled parchment with a smile of his own and held it out to him, Jarak knew they had been successful.

"It appears we have everything here we need, then," he said, taking the proffered scroll. "The Sea Fox is provisioned, we have the necessary crew, and you my friends are all here. So, we will leave with the next tide, in a few hours time." He didn't bother unfurling the parchment - there would be plenty of time at sea to study that.

"From the expression on your faces my friends, I sense there is more to tell," he added, looking from Zander to Calandra. "Was locating the cartographer troublesome?"

Zander

"Was locating the cartographer troublesome?"

"No it was easy but the map maker was odd. He knew our names and he just gave us the map. He said the map will lead us to pain and anguish. I got a bad feeling about this. This time there will be more death and pain then ever before." Zander smiled wide. "Oh, and the cartographer had no eyes."

Jarak smiled. "Pain and anguish? Well, I guess we'd just better leave this one alone," he joked, smirking. "Every adventure has its share. Though an eyeless mapmaker, who knew your names and gave you the map and a warning... certainly sounds like an intriguing beginning to our quest."

Jarak tucked the parchment into his shirt. "In the meantime, before the tides bid our departure, lets partake of some of Halinth's hospitality. The drinks are on me - but please try to be moderate, Olvan. We can't very well set sail without a proper toast."

After Olvan had stowed the two barrels he had previously dropped on the pier aboard the Sea Fox, they headed for the closest tavern, The Mermaid's Tail, which was one of reasonable repute considering the locality, although all tended to be bawdy by nature given the typical customers. Whiling away a few hours would go swiftly there, before they set sail proper.

Olvan

"Ah, the gang it is all here, yes?" Olvan bellowed as he saw Zander and Calandra. Olvan followed the gang, into the Mermaid's Tail, hoping no one would remember his last time in the pub. Leaving his crewmates at a table, Olvan sauntered up to the bar.

"I am for having a beer, yes pretty barwoman?" Olvan flashed what he considered to be a charming smile "And none of this pint nonsense. Olvan will take his in a bucket."

"Uh, I'm not sure we have clean one."

Olvan sighed. It was hard living in a world designed for people smaller than he was.

"For sure then. I am to be having three pints for my shipmates and one keg." The woman simply stood aside as Olvan removed one of the barrels of beer behind the bar.

Returning to the table, Olvan sat with his shipmates.

"So, sea prince of the nines, this map thing. Where does it point us?"

Jarak smiled, taking the rolled parchment from his shirt, the unrolling it on the table so they could all peruse it.

"Ah, as I thought, the island of Elinth," he said, with a smile to himself, "the coast appears to have been only roughly charted here, and there is no exact location of our destination shown. It lies somewhere in the Talissian Ocean."

He ran his fingertips over the map, studying what little was shown. Although the parchment gave no longitude or latitude, it did give a few clues. "See here... these marks on the top of the map are arranged in the shape of the stars of the Serpent... less the topmost, as it is now. The bottom of the map has the constellation of the Hunter, the right that of the Fox - a good omen, perhaps - and the left of the Unicorn."

He paused, his navigator's instincts already at work. "The way they are positioned - bottoms star facing in towards the maps centre - suggests they there to help pinpoint the island, though it would be only roughly. Still, considering that the Talissian Ocean is the largest of the nine sea's, a rough guide is much better than none."

He picked up one of the mugs of ale Olvan had placed on the table. "Anyway, a toast - to fair winds, calm waters, and plentiful adventure!"

Calandra

"Anyway, a toast - to fair winds, calm waters, and plentiful adventure!"

Calandra raised her mug along with her fellow companions and toasted. Despite Jarak's disregard for the cartographer's warnings, Calandra still had an uneasy feeling from the meeting. After a few more mugs of ale though she found herself whole-heartedly agreeing with Jarak's assessment of the situation.

A loud burst of raucous laughter erupted from the corner of the room and Calandra was pleased to see some of the men had started a dagger throwing contest. Not one to shy away from competition, especially after having a few drinks, she quickly excused herself and hurried over to join in.

.

Jarak smiled as Calandra left the table to join a dagger-throwing contest that was in the making, as he rolled the map up again and hid it inside his shirt again. He knew her aim with small blades was nearly as sharp as that with her bow. He had lost coins to her himself, and no doubt the men with which she was about to compete would find their purses lighter before long, and he commented on as much to Olvan and Zander, raising a shared laugh around the table as they talked and shared accounts from their old adventures together.

A few more ales - and another keg for Olvan whose capacity for drink was as monumental as his size - and the tide was in. Calandra returned jingling some extra coins from the contest, leaving some admiring looks from those stood around the throwboard.

"The sea beckons," Jarak said, draining his last mug and rising to his feet, dropping a pair of gold coins in the wooden platter in the middle of the table to pay for the drinks. "Its time we got the Sea Fox underway."

Zander

As Zander raised his glass he said "This shall be are greatest adventure yet."

As he sat there he began to think about what the old map maker had said.

"The only place this map will lead him is to pain and anguish."

To this he smiled to himself. Any thing that would test him and his friends that much must have a great reward. Yes, he has a lot of gold hidden away but it was never enough. It would never be enough. He hoped that someday he would have enough to pay for a ship. He would stock it with soldiers and set sail for the island of macco. It was rich with gold and just waiting to be raided, but he know this was all a fantasy. He could never leave Jarak. Jarak had saved Zander life countless times. Zander had given a blood oath to stay with Jarak for the rest of his life. His place was at Jarak's side and that's were he would stay.

Zander looked up at Jarak."Let's go."

"It's time we got the Sea Fox underway" Jarak said

Olvan stood up and threw an arm around Zander and the Captain.

"Yes, it's is being far too long on dry land. Adventure and excitement await on the open seas."

As Olvan turned to leave he accidentally knocked a drink out of a burly looking sailor's hands. The drink crashed to the floor and the man squared up to Olvan. The man was big but still almost a head shorter than Olvan.

"Watch where you're going, Freak" the man spat at Olvan

"I am sorry friend. I sometimes don't know my own size"

"Well, maybe you should watch where you're going" The man had obviously had a little too much to drink.

"I am saying I am sorry, there is no need to being rude"

"Well you spilled my drink, ruined my shirt and-" The man was going to continue but was interrupted by Olvan grabbing the man by the shirt and bringing his forehead down on the bridge of the sailors nose. A sickening crunch later and the sailor was on the floor of the pub, holding his broken nose together. Olvan looked sheepishly as he turned back to Jarak.

"I am forgetting my temper." Olvan said. "Perhaps it is best we are getting on board the ship, yes?"

Jarak shook his head in quiet humour. Olvan's polite manner kept up right until his anger broke loose, a fact which had surprised more than one previous would-be bar brawler.

"Not to worry Olvan, looked to me like he already had a broken nose," Jarak said as they hurried from the Mermaids Tail.

Within the hour they had boarded the Sea Fox, and she had raised anchor, sails unfurled and billowing with a good wind, leaving Halinth retreating towards the horizon behind them.

"Set course south by south east Ponter," Jarak instucted the helmsman.

"Aye Captain," replied Ponter, spinning the wheel to the left.

Jarak leaned against the railing, looking out over the ocean water, and smiled. It was good to feel the waves beneath his feet again, even after just a few days in port.

Solvitur had heard the shout, and had moved slowly to the railing to look back over their wake. He had forgone any armor, some chainmail was always with-in reach, but one simply did not wear armor at sea when one didn't have to. Especially in a storm, and at such a fearsome one at that. He was well aware what the small sail meant, and who. He watched the flutter of black feathers as the crow pulled itself into the air, already attending to the bidding of its mistress. She had already seen as well, and at the very least her curiosity (if not outright ire), was raised. The Queen was already in a clipped mood, the appearance of a possible pursuer wasn't going to help any. Particularly if he was the one in pursuit. The crow quickly dissappeared into the dark sky.

Solvitur watched as a storm cloud of raven hair dissappeared into the royal cabin. He quickly gauged all her possible moods, he doubted she would be in a rage, otherwise she would not have sought her cabin. She was either going to be distracted, maybe pensive, or possibly agitated. In any event she should not be allowed to stew on the matter. She would need to vent before a rash decision was made. The general made his way back to the cabin himself.


Now, how he been on the ship himself, without her Majesty that is, Solvitur would have ordered the ship about and the preperations for battle begun. The crew onboard this ship was the finest in the Queen's fleet, the warriors the best, and Solvitur would have eagerly put them in battle against any ship on the seas. With only a slight pause when it came to this pursuer. One did not join battle with Jarak and the Sea Fox lightly, eagerly maybe, but never lightly. Solvitur would've enjoyed testing himself against a worthy foe (a challenge he hadn't enjoyed in a long time). However, with the Queen's safety to think of...

Solvitur reached the door to the cabin and knocked firmly, but politely. "Your Majesty," he called, "It's Solvitur." One never just barged into the Queen's chambers. Oh, back at the palace, without so many vagrant eyes about, he might've gotten away with an unannouced visit. On the ship though, such a thing was out of the question.

"Come," Melanthe's voice came from the interior of the cabin. Solvitur opened the door and slipped inside without letting too much of the wind follow him.

Sometimes it felt better to do busy work when called upon. Idle hands, as they say... Sarage always found something to do on the ship. He would row, if rowing were needed, or help in the kitchen, if the chef called upon it. One can never have too many volunteers when it comes to peeling potatoes.
Now, in the weather atop, he was below deck, in the lower quarters, seeing to the supplies. Chickens in cages, calling and cooing out orders at each other, feathers floating in the small layer of water on the floor, that rocked back and forth to the ship's movement.
Large crates, filled with all they needed in this new endeavor. Food stuffs, as much as could find, mostly salted, so it would last the voyage. Barrels filled with water. Boxes of weapons, shields, swords, spears, even a few larger crates for some of the chainmail and armor.
Some were stacked still, in their seperate places, but others had been moved around, and shuttered over from one side to the other. Some utter chaos from the storm, and bad packing from the crew of the ship. Sarage set himself to the busy work, happy with it, with himself, with something to do.

Queen Melanthe

The Queen smiled, and a flick of her finger, locked the door behind him as General Solvitur entered her cabin. It had been enchanted, of course; the inside twenty times larger than seemed possible -- or probable -- from the outside. The accoutrements, as well as the size of her chambers, would change according to her needs.

Solvitur's eyes fell on the table holding both maps and the scroll, but it was an enormous bed that was the focal point of this particular ensorcellment. The maps and the scroll would come... later.

Melanthe admired the man who was both her right hand and her lover; his short-cropped hair as black as her own, his blue eyes as light as hers were dark. She seemed to glide across the room as she approached, her fingers combing through his goatee as she offered first her lips and then her throat.

"I need... " she whispered as he nipped and tugged at her tender flesh hungrily. It was at times like these; the only time, in fact, when they were on equal footing. There were rumors, of course, but no one dared to speak them aloud.

A queen no more, Melanthe undressed him, eager to please and to be pleased, and his concupiscence was obvious as Solvitur watched her dress billow to the floor in an emerald heap which she stepped neatly out of. Together, they made short shrift of her small clothes and Melanthe found herself once more in his arms, this time being carried across the room.

"What is it you... need?" he growled, depositing her atop the ostentatiously opulent bedding.

"You," she replied, kneeling as he joined her. "Only you."

Solvitur grinned, his hand tangling in her hair as he freed it from the combs that held it in place. "Ah ah," she teased, straddling his body and kissing him briefly on the lips before hers began the slow, torturous journey downward toward the object of her desire.

Melanthe licked, kissed, nibbled, and bit at his chest; her nipples grazing his skin as she slithered smoothly down his body. Closer. Closer. She held his eyes with her own, brushing her hair back as she lowered her mouth; her lips parting slightly as the tip of her tongue flicked over the head of his erection, tasting the first honeyed drops of his arousal.

Capturing them with her lips, she nibbled down Solvitur's length, along the vein on the underside of his engorged penis. Licking. Nibbling. Nuzzling. One hand delicately cupping his sac, the other ruffling through the mass of dark, tight curls on his belly.

At long last, she kissed her way back up; her tongue circling the silky smoothness, teasing at the v-shaped notch, flickering over the eye as she once more tasted of his nectar.

Only then did Solvitur reach toward her, holding her hair back as his eyes feasted on the sight of his cock disappearing into Melanthe's mouth. He watched her fingers circle his shaft at the base and still as her lips parted slightly and her mouth surrounded him; moving lower, engulfing his cock.

As he slid into the warm moistness of her mouth, Melanthe's tongue danced over his cock. Her lips held him tightly, and she moaned when she had taken him completely. The vibrations sent shivers throughout Solvitur's body; a deep, grumbling "Mmmmm... " escaping his lips.

She met his gentle thrusts as Solvitur arched his hips, his fingers tangling in her hair as their tempo increased. Melanthe slid one finger behind his sac, massaging his perineum. Her cheeks were concave as she sucked him in, elated when she felt him swelling even further.

Stroking. Sucking. Squeezing. Melanthe's mouth moved over him. Up and down his length. Harder. Faster. She could hear his hoarse gutteral moans, his gasps of delight, as she felt the vein on his turgid manhood beginning to throb.

Solvitur's fingers tangled in Melanthe's hair as she drove him further towards climax. She expertly rode his movements as his hips slowly thrust up towards her pulling mouth. She had been light and teasing at first, but was now quickly pushing him on. Whatever anxiety this voyage had placed on her, she was now putting it behind her. Or at least her mind was fully off the issue. They fell easily into a familiar rhythm as he felt his stiffness begin to pulse. She sensed his impending climax and measured her ministrations to match. With a gasp that surprised himself, he realized he couldn't hold back any further. The orgasm racked through him as the cum erupted up into her mouth. Her lips wrapped into a vicious smile as she drew every drop from him. She continued soft licks and playful twists of her tongue for a few minutes as he gradually softened.

Most of the pleasure Solvitur gained from their relationship was from the fact that Melanthe was a very talented lover. However, there was also the fact that she was the most powerful woman in any part of the world that mattered. It was said that power was an aphrodisiac, but one didn't truly understand that statement until one had bedded, and been bedded by, the Witch Queen.

Melanthe slowly worked her way up his stomach, leaving a trail of kisses in her wake. Solvitur cut her journey short by wrapping his hands around her bust and pulling her forward. He sat her down on his stomach as he pressed his lips down on hers. He savored the moment, letting their lips and tongues play over each others. Eventually he leaned her back slightly and let his lips tickle their way down her neckline. He cupped on of her generous breasts in his hand, squeezing it softly and kneading it with his fingers. He brought the nipple, stiff from her arousal, to his mouth. His lips pulled at it gently before taking it in his teeth and letting his tongue rub over it. His other hand slipped down to her backside, cupping her firm cheek and guiding her as she slowly began to grind against his stomach.

Queen Melanthe

Melanthe rode up and down Solvitur's length, meeting his every upward thrust and grinding herself into him as their bodies clashed again and again. She cried out her need, her lust, her desire -- knowing that they would not be overheard -- nor caring. This time was for them and them alone.

Hands on the General's shoulders, she leaned back, pulling him on top of herself. She wanted him deep when they reached their climaxes -- to feel his boiling seed erupt within her womb. This time she would not drink the herbal potion that had prevented pregnancy before. This time... despite the fact that her all-consuming search continued... this time there would be another heir.

Her fingernails, as sharp as the fangs on her beloved dwarf adders, dug into Solvitur's back as she urged him on. "Yes, my love... Yesss... " She cried out as her innermost walls contracted around her lover's shaft; the perfect sheath for his well-tempered blade.

Releasing his hold on her breast, Solvitur once again covered Melanthe's mouth with his own; kissing her hungrily as they both approached the edge of no return. "Fill me," she urged him. "Fill me... now!!" Her back arched as her body yielded, a painfully glorious writhing succession of spasms that she knew would soon be followed by his own.

Calandra

Calandra walked over and stood against railing by Jarak. She gazed ahead at the storm in front of them. She hadn't seen any storm quite like that one before yet she couldn't pick out any one thing about it that made it so strange. Out of the corner of her eye she caught movement and a crow flew out of the storm and towards the ship. Poor thing she thought as it distanced itself from the black clouds. She gave it no more thought as she turned to Jarak.
"So what do you make of that storm up ahead?"