Destiny Riders

[Quiet_Cool]

Destiny Riders is a medievel thread, laced with pure fantasy, open to all players upon approval of characters on the OOC/Casting call board (OOC/Casting Call: New medieval thread). Please donot just jump in and post.



Daine
The wind blew hard from the East, carrying the fallen leaves toward me as I rode the horse slowly toward Carthon Castle. A heavy wind, thick. Though still warm, the wind of late summer bore the scent of change. I noticed it right off, as I had so often in the past, but this wind hid something deep beneath its surface. The future was unpredictable, it promised, as if I needed a reminder of such.
"Halt," a man's voice announced from above.
I did as he asked, looking up from under my pointed hat's brim at the guard who waited above, sitting in the nearest tower, no doubt having drawn duty to watch the tower this late.
"Announce yourself and your purpose," he shouted down at me.
"I am Daine, Third Wizard of the Council. I am here to see Mostade of Carthon," I shouted back.
"A moment," the man returned, then vanished from sight. I eyed the small castle, wondering why Mostade had chosen this castle as his current keep. It was small, it offered little protection, save for its annonymity.
"Enter," the man shouted, as he returned. A moment later, the drawbridge lowered, offering passage inside.
I nudged Mystic forward and we crossed the small moat and entered beneath the metal battle gates that were drawn up.
"He awaits you in the tower, Daine of the Wizard's Council," a man announced, taking Mystic by the reigns and standing back as though the mild tempered animal might rear and knock him back.
I dismounted, and whispered in Mystic's ear ("I'll return soon, old friend") which was answered with a quick whinney, then followed the guard to the tower.

to be continued...

 

[BlackApollo]

I had been riding hard for the better part of three days when I spotted the tripwire in the road. It was poorly concealed and I suppose I made some kind of body movement that revealed my knowledge to the three goblins in the trees above me. For before I knew it a pair of arrows came down upon me. I drove my steed, Gibran, off the road and in to the forrest. I would be an easy target on the road. and atleast the trees may provide soem kind of cover.

several arrows whizzed by my head. These gomi were fast. I saw a thicket of bushes and jumped off Gibran, knowing that he would survive on his own untill I called back for him.

I notched an arrow in to my bow and waited. I heard nothing except the rustling of the trees in the late summer wind. The the crisp air began to grow foul. They were near. I felt a shadow cross and looked up. One was in the tree right above me! his grey-green claws gripping the brown wood. Without thinking I pulled back and let fly with an arrow. His body fell on the leaf covered forrest floor with a muted thud. I ran over to his body and pulled the arrow out from where it peirced his throat. I saw several of his short arrows scattered over his body, some of them had Mellech blood on there stone arrowheads. Poison. If they hit me I'm done for.

"You can't get us all. Human." a raspy voice came from the trees.

"we only want your skinnnnnnn." said another voice from behind me.

They were keeping their distance, each of them couldn't be less than 30 feet away. I notched the arrow and waited. If there were more of them, they would have attacked already. More strenght in numbers, wouldn't be trying to scare me. but then these are goblins, ah what a fate for me and my house if I was to die here. I have to call them out.

"All of you? You mean not one of you can take a single human, alone in woods he does not know?"

I heard a rustleing behind me. I turned and heard the first voice say. "We will destroy you human." that one was above me, in the trees too. I looked down at the shadows I could see something that looked not quite treelike. Quickly I turned and released the arrow. For a split second I saw the goblin before he vanished from my sight. Before I could draw another arrow his companion came from out of his hiding place and hastily let fly with a poorly made shaft. It struck me in the leg and I fell back. The pain roared through me as if a hydra had hatched itself in side my leg.

The goblin that struck me was comming closer. I could smell his stench. My hand was near a rock I pretended to be in a daze. moaning and crying that my life was leaving me. The Goblin lowered his bow and came closer. I grabbed him and brought the stone up and hit him with it. I stood over him and was about to strike again when I felt my leg give out from under me. i looked down and saw that a green puss was comming out of my leg. The poison. at the same time an arrow almost peirced through my hand. I looked behind me and saw the last goblin aiming right at my head.

I was about to say my prayer to the Maker when a minor miracle occured. Gibran, from nowhere knocked the goblin down and galloped towards me. I just barely grabbed on to his saddle and swung my self on top of him. We went full pace for the better part of an hour untill we crossed a road. I did not know where we were. I lost all feeling in my leg. I saw a castle up ahead. "Maybe we could make it before nightfall Gibran." I cut a lenghth of rope and tied it around my thigh, hopefully that would hold the mellech poison back untill I reached the castle.

We rode for what felt like an eternity. I felt my self coughing up blood on to Gibrans mane, "sorry old poet." I said. He moved on we reached the walls of the castle late in the night. My vison was shifting. I saw a thousand torches move in to one then twelve. I called out "Please, help! Mellech poi. . ." Then the world turned black and the only noise I heard was a dull distant thud.

 

[little_golden]

 

[MissVictoria]

Naezra

Violet eyes watched with interest as a dark horseman tilted precariously forward, and then collapsed to the mud. The animal he was riding was surely well-trained, for it hardly started at all, and stood perfectly still even without rider. She considered the scene for a moment as rain fell in masses, muddied puddles beginning to form shallow divots in the road.

The rider had said something before his collapse, but Naezra could not make out the words above the din and thrash of the rainstorm. The lights were on in the guard tower, but she was not certain that they had heard or seen the man.

What business is it of mine? she wondered, scolding herself for taking time away from her task to observe the strange figure. She was herb collecting tonight, seeking mistletoe that grew in abundance near the small keep. It could only be collected with a silver knife at midnight of the moon's last quarter. She hadn't much time.

Trying to disregard the figure, for she had decided that surely it wasn't her concern, she scanned her strange eyes through the dark, searching the desired plant. Perhaps half an hour later, she had located a particularly prominant patch and the silver dagger flashed in the moonlight, making short work of the tough plant. Wrapping the leaves in silk, and placing them within her apron pocket, she wandered back to the road, to see if the horseman had been tended to.

The figure lay there in the mud, water pooling around him.

Muttering to herself, Naezra cursed herself for the bit of a good heart she had, and knelt by the figure, hefting him up into a sitting position. Struggling to a stand, her feet slipped in the clay mud or the road, straining to lift the heavy figure. Accustomed to hard work, it was not an easy task for the woman, but certainly not impossible.

The horse stood still as the woman roughly drug the man over the saddle, pulling on his arms, and then pushing from the other end, rider flopping ungracefully over the edge of the saddle. Her heart was pounding wildly with exertion by the time she finished the task, and her arms and legs felt a distinct burn and weakness throughout them. Taking up the horse's reigns, she was glad when it followed, and she began to lead both horse and rider to her cottage, which was not far off.

---

The rider spilled uncerimoniously to the ground, as Naezra pulled him from the horse. Leaving him lay there for a while, she tethered the horse to her garden fence, and returned to the man, dragging him inside.

By the time she had reached the wolfskin in front of her fireplace, she was thoroughly exhausted. She cursed herself under her breath, roughly tossing the man's arms down, and scanning his form.

It was not overly hard to discern what was wrong... the man's leg was swollen and pussing, an odd sickly bruised shade on his skin, while only a small wound could be seen.

"Poison," she said aloud, walking slowly to an herb shelf, and fetching a neutrilizing powder, as well as a small red vial of rustroot and scorpion sweat. She ran water over the wound, digging her finger deep into it to clear the puss out. The man groaned, but did not move. Shaking the powder on and into it, Naezra was certain to cover the wound in its entirety. Then, tilting the vial to his lips, the woman held his head in her lap and poured in the reddish concoction, rubbing his throat to stimulate swallowing.

He was shaking. She was not suprised. It took some effort to remove his rainsoaked clothing, but the task was accomplished soon enough. Abandoning her own clothing, the woman grabbed a heavy wool blanket and settled beside the horseman on the wolfskin, pressing her body to his for warmth.

His skin was freezing. His shivering was disturbing. She had no idea if he would kill her in the morning.

Naezra didn't seem to care, for soon she had fallen into an exhausted sleep.

 

[BlackApollo]

In the darkness he dreamed...

One moment he was swimming in Blue River.

The next moment he was tracking Gibran up the jade Mt. Quaf.

Then he was falling in to a deep chasam and splashing in to a warm spring surrounded by golden rocks. He swam up forever finally breaking the surface, feeling the warmth of the sun on his body.

I feel parts of my body again, stiff, sore but warming up. Ah yes so warm. My eyes are shut in my bliss of being alive and home and safe. Is this Alyssa next to me? It cannot be. She caught the plauge and passed on two years ago. No one would dare to come in to my bed, unless it was someone trying to. . . wait this doesn't feel like my bed.

I open my eyes and find a black haired body laying next to me. In my sleep I must have curled up around her. Herback is facing me. I can make out the gentle curves of her shoulder and sides in the candlelight. Who is she?

The poison from the goblin arrows should have killed me. Ah, I look down at my leg and see the wound and some sort of powder covering it. i felt a dull pain radiating around my wound. This woman must have saved me. I owe her my life.

I move closer to herand brush her hair away from her smooth alabaster face. I caress her body lightly under the covers, her warmth penetrating my fingers, giving them life. She stirrs slightly,rolling towards me under what appears to be some animal skin blanket. I freeze not wanting to wake her. i hear her moan, and realize that my manhood had grown solid and was pressing against her.

 

[MissVictoria]

Naezra

The were banging on her door again, calling for her to come out. She walked quickly about the cottage, looking for an escape.

"Witch! Show yourself... demon!"

"Cursed succubi! I lost three calves just this morning..."

"And a fourth of my crop cought fire and burned to the ground!"

"My husband has warts all over his face!"

"My son has a cough and fever, and the healers say it should have been better long ago..."

"Witch, answer us!"

Enthusiastic cries rose, agreeing with the accusations being shouted. Naezra could hear them rustling outside, pounding pitchforks, and beating sticks against the stone walls of her cottage. Her heart lept to her chest, fear overwhelming her as the mob grew more unruly.

Had it come?

Was it yet to come...

Was she dreaming?

A dream is never this real...

She could feel something hard pressing into her stomach. In the dream she looked down and saw nothing.

So I am dreaming...

Abrubtly, Naezra forced her eyes open, tearing herself from the realm between reality and the dream. It took her a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the dark, and she lay there, her heart pounding, trying to figure out the warm flesh that was next to her.

Then just as quickly, the events of the former night flooded back into her memory. The horseman. The poison. Needing warmth.

His body was hard and comfortable next to hers... it had been a long time since she had felt the presance of a man next to her in this way. Still drifting about the edges of sleep, all modesty aside, she pressed herself up closer to him, taking comfort in the strength which seemed to radiate from him. She felt safe. The dream no longer threatened her. Slipping further into a lucid dream, she wrapped her arm about him, huddling up to the stranger as if he were her guardian and protector. She kissed his chest, thankful for his presance.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that it was his hardened sex pressing against her stomach. Somewhere in the back of her mind she felt vaguely honored, and her mouth formed a slight, sleepy smile.

 

[BlackApollo]

Tariq

The heat of the Beloved's fire growing in my heart and loins. I felt the warm moist of her sex pressing against my thighs as she wrapped her arms around me and kissed my chest. Her breasts pressed in to my body as she breathed the deep slow breathing of sleep. Was that a smile on her face?

I felt the Beloved calling me to her gentle smiling lips. Without thinking I moved my head down and lightly kissed her. I felt her arms hold me tighter. My leg slowly moving against her sex. I felt the curtains of my heart rise as her mouth opened inviting my tongue in to her. I feel us exchanging our essence between our lips as we entertwine under the heavy blanket. My hands caressed down her back. tracing the elegant curve of her spine. Oh the pleasure of touch that the Beloved grants us. I moved my hand around her buttocks and thigh fingertips brushing against her sacred place. My manhood now on fire between us.

 

[The GrandMage]

Ven Zalapa

The mercenary wandered along, humming to himself as he took another large bite out of the cooked meet her held. It was dog. Dog made a mighty fine meal when cooked properly. Granted, it wasn't as good as a nice stew, or maybe even a different animal, but it would sustain him. And that was all he needed.

His weathered, leather boots solidly made contact with the ground as he marched himself along. He could see the walls rising in the distance, and a few forms near this small enterance. He grunted to himself, and stopped humming. He reached down, scratching through his simple tunic at an itch on his side.

His arms had a nice collection of scars running from the shoulder down to his wrists. His forearms looked the worst, sacrificed as a sheild if thing got bad enough. Remarkably, though, he didn't have as many scars as one would think, maybe thirty or so, with only a few marring his face. His eyes scanned the two standing there. A guard and a girl?

He came closer, and the guard's gaze shifted. "And who the hell are you? Be gone, both of you!"

Ven glanced over at the other, realizing she was a very pretty woman. He let his eyes wander over her body, recognizing her more womanly features. He smiled, and tossed the remainder of the meat over his shoulder, and wiped the juice clean from his hands on the side of his breeches.

"Me? I'm just a mercenary, passing through, looking for work. Crap like that." He glanced at the large man, having to look up a little to look into his eyes. "Who are you? The door, or the doorman? And what's with the woman? Is she a whore, or did I show up just in time to save you from being turned into a toad? Although, with your looks, the toad may have been an improvement."

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Daine

I was in the tower when the rain truly began to fall. It had threatened to rain for some time, and had stayed at a drizzle for a while. I sat in the chamber, thinking over what the man, Mostade, had told me.
Mostade of Carthon they were already calling him. The anonymity I'd thought would protect him was all but destroyed, it seemed.
Mostade was far too vain.
"I'll tell you what I wish of you very soon," he'd said, speaking as though he would order me to a trial or duty. Can you imagine? I was the Third Wizard of the Council!
I heard the fuss outside then, and leaned forward in the chair I sat in, near the window of the small lodgings I'd been offered to listen at the window. Had I heard what I thought I'd heard?
"The Great Wizard Utani of Ray is deceased and I have succeeded him in his post..." the girl outside explained.
"Othana..." I muttered to myself.
I started down the small staircase to the ground and moved toward the shorter tower the guard inhabited.
By then, a male voice had joined the argument.
I reached the man's post and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, but I believe this woman to be who she claims. And Mostade will be grateful if you allow her access."The guard looked at me for a moment. Word had spread that the first of the guests of Mostade had spread. He looked at me, sighing to himself, then shrugged.
"Just a moment," he insisted, calling down to them. "And the mercenary?" He asked me.
I shrugged. "If nothing else, this place could use some better security."
He nodded, then shouted down, "I'm raising the drawbridge. Leave your weapons as you enter."

 

[MissVictoria]

Naezra

She was drifting, sinking through, winking from one realm to the next. She recognized the press of a man's hard lips to her own, and in her groggy state, she welcomed them. It had been so long...

Her tongue found another, and began its exquisite dance. A shiver of electricity coursed into her body, as if from his, starting at the mouth and flooding to her toes and fingertips. It was warm, and someone was pressed warmly against her.

The rider. Her limbs were twined with his, she could feel the hard press of his thigh between her legs, and it was that of a man, so unfamiliar to her own. She found a hand exploring his body, marveling at the touch, wanting to discover more of him, wanting to trace her fiingers over every jut of bone, every hair, every scar.

Her companion was so very warm... she was so warm... she felt as if soon she would burst into flame, if she did not escape it, but she found her lips coming back to his own, finding that she needed them.

There was his sex, still pressing into her stomach. What a delicious dream.

 

[little_golden]

 

[BlackApollo]

I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of her. It filled my lungs stoking the Beloved's fire as my face rubbed against her neck. I felt her fingers seek the paths of skin and muscle on my body. My hand did the same, tracing an imaginary trail up her thigh across her stomach to the peak of her breast. My kiss found the hollow of her neck as my fingertips stroked and caressed her. the Beloved yearnign to be one with her consuming my body.

I moved lower, feeling her body undulate with pleasure as my thigh slid against her sacred place. Her nipples were erect, standing with proud desire.I wraped my lips around one, gently savoring it. My tongue tasting every bump and crevace.

I heard the song of her moan above me. and all time seemed to streach out and dissolve in to nothing. The past was fading away, the inkwell of the future had gone dry. There was only now, this moment, her voice.

 

[MissVictoria]

Naezra

Tasted, teased and touched...

How long had it been? Her hands and motions were growing more bold with each passing second. Did it matter? She no longer questioned what was happening, though she recognized that she was not dreaming.

There was only the touch of his heat, firm and delicious. Of his mouth, hot and wet as he suckled her. Naezra found herself cradling his head to her breast, fingers twining between thin ropes of hair as she held him there.

She moaned.

She found that she ached for him, an insistant urging in her innermost depths. Her breathing quickened, as she inhaled in soft, pleasured gasps.

She wanted to touch him.

And so she did. One hand found its way to his chest, sliding downward, passing over his torso, his navel, until her fingers found what they desired, wrapping around his stiff member. Her hand moved over the prrize with a touch that was little more than a whisper, exploring, becoming familiar. She mewled softly like a hungry kitten, burying her face against the top of his head.

 

[Steiner]

Arrival

Garrel was barely a mile from town when his horse finally foundered.

With a squeal that jolted the knight from his exhausted half-doze the horse tried to mount the crest of a small bank only to have it's weakened forelegs give in, crashing to the ground and sending its rider over the peak of his saddle in a flailing whirl of limbs and steel. Making a sound like a smithy rolled down a flight of stairs the young Knight rolled over and over before striking the trunk of a large oak, to be left breathless and stunned on his back.

After regaining his feet, feeling the slightly misaligned plates of his armour scraping over one another, Garrel checked his dead horse and swore under his breath - it had been a poor, broken down thing in the first place, but it had also been the only horse he had escaped the bloody battlefield with, and now he was on foot.

Unstrapping the saddlebags from the corpse at his feet and slinging them over his shoulder he settled his sword, dirk and axe on his weaponbelt before recovering his pride, the great twohanded sword he had used in the arena to champion the weak and bring the Emporer's justice to the frontier. Strapping that weapon over his shoulder he heavily made his way back to the road and began the weary march to the lights of the town he had seen close by. Maybe there he could find employment to earn a replacement horse, or even survivors from the bloody massacare he'd escaped?

Although he was a fit man in the prime of his life the walk tired him considerably - laden down as he was. It was coming on for evening when he arrived at the town, knowing his outlandish appearance might cause difficulties and hoping that the gate guard might be in a forgiving mood. Unfortunately, as he trudged heavily up the road leading to the gate, he could see that the guard was glowering down the path at him, and he cursed his luck. What could have annoyed the man so? At that moment the richly dressed young woman speaking to the guard delivered a final pithy barb before stalking past him in a fluttering of robes. A scarred looking fighting man, stood just behind her, gave the guard a sardonic grin and followed through to where the woman was now speaking with a distinguished looking mage. Sighing with resignation, and sure that the guard was already preparing to take his revenge, Garrel trudged the last few yards to the gate guard.

 

[Nightingale]

The Auction Begins...

"For all ladies in waiting, or those who have waited long enough! I have something for you that is sure to make your hair stand on end, and your blood curdle."

A loud, booming, high pitched voice sounded in the streets and in the square of the castle-town. The usual call of the gypsy woman, peddling her wares. She was dressed in unkepmt rags made of various silks and patchwork materials, always certain to keep her face veiled and her headdress straight. Spectacle was the true tool of the gypsy. But never had she had merchandise like this.

"What is it you are selling, wench?" A swift tongued highbrow insulted her, but she didn't miss a beat.

"I'm not your mother, good sir, so please do not address me a such." The modest crowd in the square was laughing at the man now, who's face turned three different shades of rose red before she continued. "As well, you should know that my merchandise is only of interest to female customers. Those who are faint of heart should not come in to my caravan, but if you feel up to it, good madames, enter in and browse. What I have in store for you is the most unique sight in all the land."

Only a gypsy woman would be so brash, but many of the ladies had an inkling of an idea what this woman would be selling. Deep inside, the clinking of change could be heard. The more naiive of the women merely went on their way, but some strayed to her coattails, even venturing so far as to try and peek inside of her rather large caravan.

"Those who would enter... please follow me..."

From inside, dark eyes watched the entrance. Dark eyes that belonged to a dark figure, chained to the inside of the caravan. Dark eyes that knew unless they escaped, the cycle would start all over again...

 

[BlackApollo]

Tariq

I felt her trace the lines of my manhood with a light touch. heasitant at first, but becoming more confidant and bold with every sensation filled moment. Her sounds of pleasure raining down from above my head. I gathered her in my arms and laied her on her back.Her violet eyes open as I moved above of her fair form. Her hair spread out over the pillows like the waves of a black sea. I looked down at her for what felt like an eternity. We kissed, exchanging essances again.

Our fingers played with each others sexes like our tongues played in eachothers mouths. My fingertips stroked her sex. Caressing, feeling. With every stroke our kisses became more and more passonate. I explored her shrine. My fingers like pilgims paying homage to her place of creation.

I broke my lips away from her mouth long enough to whisper in to her ears "I do not know your name, I do not know who you are, but I do know that I want to be one with you". I felt her legs open, granting me entrance to her most sacred space as our tongues slid across each other in extacy.Slowly I entered myself in to the moist warmth of her sacred place. I lost my self in her. The Beloved's fire surrounded us striping us of ourselves and leaving only our desire and love.

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Daine

I smiled to the woman, who'd insisted that introductions were in order, and bowed my head politely.
"I am Daine, Third Wizard of the Council," I announced. I apologize for the tight security. It seems our friend Mr. Mostade has been up to some important work. And your names are?"

 

[The GrandMage]

Ven Zalapa

He began to follow the woman into theplace when he heard the big guard. "No waepons," the guard said, reaching for the simple sword hilt over his right shoulder, where he kept it when traveling.

Ven shifted his weight as he turn, one leg lifting and kicking out. And the mercenary shifted force into his attack, the big guard doubled over, probably from the pain Ven's simple boot were inflicting on his crotch. His elbow came around, slamming into the side of the guards head and knocking him out cold. The guard fell with a heavy thud, and Ven noticed a man, who looked like he needed assistance in the distance. Ven stood upright, turning to the two, who were now looking at him, and ignoring the poor man. He noticed he'd interrupted their introductions.

"I'm Ven Zalapa. Noted mercenary for twenty years. Sorry about that, but I'm a little protective of the thing that's given me food shelter, and life for this long a time. Besides, he insulted the lady." He unhooked his sheath, and held it out tows the wizard. "You can hold onto this if you want, but I won't leave it outside."

He looked over the woman again, and gave a slight grin. Even if this place didn't have work, it might just be enjoyable. He normally wasn't this polite, but he didn't want to annoy the wizard, or lose a nice warm bed. Especially if he could coax his new friend into joining him in it.

 

[Steiner]

Things looking up?

2 metres of scowling displeasure had been reduced to a sodden ball of pain by the mercenary and, by the time Garrel reached the gate the guard had other things on his mind than weapons, the lateness of the hour, backchatting women or disreputable appearances.

Normally a man who supported law and order Garrel couldn't resist a grin as he passed by the whimpering guard - schadenfreude it might be, but it was tremendously uplifting to see somebody having a worse day than himself.

The scene at the gate indicated that the three were now a single group as far as conversation went. The mercenary (Garrel was now close enough to learn his name was Ven Zalapa) had defeated the guard with an expert brutality that had obviously arrested the scholarly types in mid-discourse - Garrel was no stranger to violence, but the languid and seemingly bored manner in which it had been inflicted was the mark of a seasoned professional, and probably a man who killed as easily as he ate, drank and breathed - yet he handed the scabbarded sword on his shoulder to the robed male, clearly a mage of some seniority by the look of him.

Garrel slowed his pace as he drew near to the three, it would be wise to see how this authority figure handled things before he attempted to enter. If the mage regarded the subtle but no less dangerous mercenary as too much armed threat then the young Knight, clad in battered steel and festooned with sword, axe and Flamberge Greatsword, would be treated like an invading army.

 

[The GrandMage]

.

 

[Mystic_Visions]

Argis Vel'Torin

I have been traveling with the holy man for three days now. Three days, seemed more like three weeks, with his constant spouting about his diety, the one true god. Sometimes the thought would cross my mind that I should have left him to the bandits that were accosting him when I stumbled upon his encampment. But I knew what Torin would have done, and I knew I must follow my father's path as well. So I accepted his offer to see him safely to his destination, promising a handsome payment in return.

The old abbot was ill, and he slouched in the saddle. He was ill when we met, and was only getting worse. As the rain began I knew I had to find this place, Castle Carthon, this eve, for he would most certainly not make it through another night in the wilderness, regardless of how powerful he believed his god to be. I prayed to the spirits that the old man did indeed know where he was going. I had sent Grense to scout the path ahead of us, knowing the potential for danger was great. I could smell goblins in the area, and hoped we could reach the castle without having to encounter them. The wolf returned, and in her eyes, I could see that she had found no danger ahead.

Rising over a small crest, the smells of evening meals over the fires could only mean we were close. A little further down the rise, I could see the corpse of a horse. I dismounted Glemme and approached the body. Seeing that the poor beast died from obvious exhaustion was a small relief. Perhaps I shall make the castle without a fight after all.

As I approached the gates, all seemed calm. No one but a lone sentry was there, although he did not appear to be too happy.

"Halt," he snarled. "What business do you have here, and who is that with you?"

"I am here to see this man safe passage to his destination, which happens to be this keep," I say to the guard. I know he is itching for a fight, but will not give him the pleasure. "He claims to have business with the master of this castle, Lord Mostane. Though I fear if he does not get the attention of an herbalist soon, he shall not live long enough to see his matters through."

The guard approached the slumped figure, giving him a good inspection. "I do not know if you speak the truth, but it is obvious this man does need help. Enter and we shall see what can be done for him."

Several guards approach and take the abbot off my hands. I just hope he survives long enough to make that promised payment. I decide it would be best to find some lodging for the night, so I enter the square, looking for an inn.

 

[MissVictoria]

Naezra

Yes, it should be. She found her legs instinctively parting for him. With a delicious stretch, the rider speared her flesh with his own, filling her innermost depths and touching places none had for some time, both physically and mentally. She found her legs and arms wrapping about his body, so different from her own, and she reveled in the magnificence of that fact, drifting along on threads of desire and joy.

She repaid him for his kindness with the crushing press of her lips, kisses so hard that they very well might bruise. She bit at his lips with her small teeth, wanting to devour and consume him, biting only hard enough that he should realize this.

He responded in kind, and as he began to move over her, his sex pressing forward, embedding itself into her own, she cried out, gripping and clinging to him, and each cry was a plead for more.

 

[little_golden]

 

[cuervorose]

Zenae

She approached the castle with pride on the outer front and trepidation on the inner side. Her mind spoke sensibly, reminding her that every town needed teachers of magic-craft. But in her heart Zenae pondered whether or not she would be needed here. She had been teaching succesfully for several seasons and as of today found herself in the realm of Daine.
She tossed back her auburn curls and thought of the adolescents she'd felt magic growing within on her ride through town and reminded herself that they would need more than one teacher. She had her own unique gifts that would be useful in an educational atmosphere. Power of suggestion could be a strong ally in a classroom full of rowdier young adults, and was often beneficial even with adults. Smiling wickedly, she thought of just how beneficial that power could be, and has been before. Never really controlling, but bringing her beauty to the attention of those she desired, and ensuring that they sought her out to discover what lay beneath.
She shook her head ever so slightly as her stallion snorted, bringing her back to the present situation. Daine should have been expecting her, as she'd sent a letter of intent with a messenger several weeks prior. She'd never received a reply and wondered if she should have taken that as acceptance, rejection, or indifference. As she approached the castle entrance, she straightened her shoulders and brought herself up, riding proudly, like sorceress with her ability and rank should portray. She rode to the guardhouse and announced, "I am Zenae of Teren, and I am here seeking an audience with Daine, Third Wizard of the Council".

The guards looked at one another and snickered. "Another pretty lass who thinks she owns the place. She may be a higher priced whore, but she's still just that- a woman with two thighs and a wet spot b'tween 'em."

Zenae concentrated for a moment and stared at the guards, "I do believe that what you intended to say was 'Of course mistress, we'll see that you're escorted properly into the safe keep of the manor.' Wasn't that what you meant to say?"
The guards shook their heads raggedly, as thogh trying to clear a fog, "Yes, mistress, will you please wait until an escort can be summoned?"
Zenae settled into the saddle again, a pleased smile on her lips, "I shall wait, as long as I am not kept waiting. Do you understand?"
The guard nodded his head like a wizened, feeble man, "yes, mistress. Right away mistress!"
Zenae sat, awaiting word from within the castle, hoping she was not detained. And praying she was not turned away.

 

[Mystic_Visions]

I never liked these cities, too noisy, too many people. I walk through the square and my ears are assaulting by this gyspsy hawking her wares. I have heard many horrible sounds in my 30 years, but not many worse than her screeching. I look at the crowd around her, mostly paupers, but a few women in finer dress. Odd, in most other cities, these women would never set foot around a gypsy, yet they all seemed atwitter about something. The sudden pang of hunger quickly quashed my curiosity in this scene, so I wander off to find a tavern that might be open at this late an hour. I see a swinging board above one of the doors, proclaiming it to be 'The Dragon's Breath Inn.' I chuckle at the garish painting of a dragon in flight on the placard. I've had the pleasure of seeing a dragon during my earlier years, and I say pleasure only because the beast was already dead when I happened upon it. Men have always dreamed these creatures to have a beauty about them, but I always felt a pauper with the pox has more beauty by far, then that carcass I gazed upon.

I fasten Glemme's reigns to a pole outside the inn, and retrieve the small coin purse from one of my saddlebags. Knowing most city folk do not have a tolerance for my companion's kind, I command Grense to stay alongside the mare. Besides, I do not know this area, so it will be good to have my belongings guarded. I enter the main room and find a table in the corner. There is no one inside, save the tavern keeper, who is making himself busy cleaning the tables with his filthy apron. He approaches and before he could speak I ask him for an ale.

He returns with my ale, and I take a long drink.

"Quite nice after a long day's travels," I say, handing him a silver piece. "Where can one could find a room for the night?"

"Not to be insulting, but I have seen your 'friend' out there, and can tell you that no innkeep who wishes to stay in business would allow you under his room for the eve." As I produce a gold coin from the purse and lay it on the table, he continues,"Of course, I suppose I could see fit to allow you and your companion to stay in the stables, with your mount. Forgive me, but that is the best I can do. Most people will think you a warlock for having the beast travelling with you, and, ahhh, one must not be known for helping those of a, ahhh, shall we say, darker persuasion? Not that I believe you are, sir, I mean ahh....get you another ale? On the house?" And he scurried off to fetch another ale, returning with a plate of cheese and bread as well. "Figured you'd be hungry as well."

As he returned to his 'cleaning', I couldn't help chuckle slightly. All city folk are always afraid of Grense. Warlock, demon, darkseed, I've been called them all. I cannot fathom how people who can accept sorcerers can not accept a wolf as a traveling companion.

I finished the plate of cheese, and washed it all down with one last ale before I headed back to the innkeep's stables. He was kind enough to tell me where the feed was, so after removing my bedroll and saddle from Glemme, she dined on a meal of hearty oats and grains. She whinneyed her approval, and I removed the braid from her tail. "I don't see any battles coming soon, so I think we shall relax a little. What do you say Glemme?"

She met that statement with a short grunt of approval. I left her to her feed, and began to set up my bedding for the eve. I fall asleep quickly, with Grense curled at my feet.

I feel Grense jump up, and reach for my father's sword immediately. I can see her fur bristling, her ears searching for the sound she heard. I quietly follow her to the stable entrance, where we both stop to listen. That's when I hear it as well, the sounds of shouting, muffled in the distance. I hear a woman scream, followed by the shouting of at least two men. I cannot hear what is being said, but it does not sound like a pleasant situation. I command Grense to lead, and we creap out into the night, towards the disturbance. Rounding a corner, I can immediately see that it is coming from the castle proper. As I begin to think of a way inside, I hear the woman shouting, ' Guards, guards. This man has murdered a guard! Help!' I could here the instant rushing of people within and around the castle. Knowing how some of the younger guards in these cities can react, I feel it is better to not be wandering outside the castle in only a breechcloth and carrying the sword. Sensing the sitation is under control, I slink back to the stables and my bedroll.