Lords of Itaea

[Tseranc]

One of Morgiana’s servant girls stumbling into Olam’s study, her excitement of finding him as apparent as the urgent nature of her message…to go to The Lady now. He gathered himself, still week from the recent efforts, and forced himself through the halls toward her study. Exhaustion was only part of the reason his feet felt so heavy…the other being dreadful anticipation of her mood.

But soon the inevitable came, and he walked into the room where the young woman in command of Entaca hovered over a table littered with maps. “My Mistress summoned me? How might I serve?” he tried to pull his voice into the proud, mellow tones he was known for, but he knew that they just barely missed their mark, betraying how tired he was.

He strolled over to the table and saw the maps, and guessing from the amount of them, all detailing in some way the shore to the west, he quickly assumed they were about to pit themselves against Pravus and his red handed army. He said nothing of his guess, but stood attentively to await his instructions.

 

[Katamari Roller]

Slythe's embrace was warm, and felt safe. Brita was not quite conscious of what was going on. If she was, she would have marvelled at how nobody else would want to be where she was now. Being in Slythe's embrace was something only Brita could like, apparently. She sighed happily when he caressed her head with a kiss, and then with his hand. To feel loved... that was something too good to be true in a world that was slowly dying.

Still, she did notice Slythe talking to the mercenary... Rhonwhen. And Brita definitely got jealous. Some of the alcoholic dumbing down shrugged off when she heard about Frost. That man was a pain to Slythe, it seemed, and Rhonwhen might be the solution. Brita's skills did not match hers, and her powers were too weak compared to what Rhonwhen could do. Brita didn't dare look up at her for fear of revealing her jealousy, but damned if she didn't wish for nothing more than all of Slythe's enemies to disappear from his life, and for Brita only to be there with him...

She stepped out of the embrace when Slythe stood up, and graciously accepted his hand, following him around. She definitely felt good with him... but how did Slythe just feel about her? What did he think of her? He was a Dark Lord, after all... no, she couldn't be distrustful about him. She loved him... no matter how flawed he was.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Tharalon

It did not take Tharalon long to locate the garden keeper hiding nervously behind a potting shed. In a year, there had been little interest in his gardening and he did as he pleased. With no witch to watch over the special plants he had dedicated his efforts to the fresh vegetables the kitchen demanded for Lord Pravus table. Now he feared he would pay for his negligence and hoped to remain hidden until the Lord and his new witch left the island.

Tharalon’s excited curiosity in the surviving plants unintentionally allayed some of the man’s fears as she eagerly put him to work collecting what she wanted. She watched with interest as he worked, following across the length of the garden and back many times, telling him of the changes she would require and the additions they would make. He saw his easy life as a vegetable grower slip through his fingers but bore it well, the witch was pleased, and that made it unlikely Lord Pravus would notice his earlier carelessness.

Eventually, Tharalon saw she was not helping the gardener only slowing him and she went in search of something else to occupy her time while Lord Pravus and his men completed the preparations for the journey. After questioning two guards and getting lost once, Tharalon found the palace’s old library tucked in a faraway corner of the sprawling palace.

Dust rose in the air as she entered the room. She wrinkled her nose, barely holding back a sneeze, as she opened the heavy curtains to let in light and disturbed even more dust. It looked as if the old library had been unused since Lord Baro’s death or maybe even longer but this was where she would have to look. She doubted Lord Pravus’ new library would contain what she needed.

Unaided and barely literate, it was only through applied determination that she located what she wanted. In the mass of books collected by generations of Molovician Lords, she found several books of botany and herbalism but none on the use of magic. Of the books she found, she took the ones with illustrations and walked with them back to her room. On her way, she wondered if there was yet another library. She intended to keep notes of her experime….growth; wouldn’t the other users of magic have done the same?

She was sitting in the window seat, paging through a book when the servant arrived with the summons from Lord Pravus. There was nothing for her to do but change into traveling clothes.

She wore a fitted gown of soft but serviceable dove gray wool under a cloak of heavy black wool when she arrived in the courtyard to join Lord Pravus. Her loosely braided red hair circled her head like a crown, and she was the picture of maidenly modesty while the cut of the gown accented her curves and the dark colors contrasted with the fairness of her skin and highlighted the fire in her hair.

“My Lord, I hope I have not kept you waiting.” She bobbed a neat curtsy; the little gesture was becoming quite familiar to her now. “I have stolen books from the old library for the journey.” The large tome in her arms was unmistakable. “I think I will find them useful. Is that permitted?”

 

[One Eyed Jack]

“Not long, my dear.” He mentioned almost in passing to her worries of making him wait, and then eyed the book she carried. “Any books you find in the various libraries are at your disposal. I wish you to learn and grow in your power, and if bits of knowledge from the past aid that, then so much the better. I took any volumes even hinting at magic off the shelves, and had them stored and studied in a safe location – I will make arrangement to have those delivered, seeing as how I have my own witch now, and several old men claiming to be scholars have yet to reveal anything of use.”

The carriage door was opened for them and offered his hand to assist her climb in. Damn if the girl wasn’t beautiful, even hidden under clothes intended for travel and not displaying her assets. He joined her and the door was shut behind him as he took a seat almost intimately close to the witch; quickly settling himself and grinning at her. “Sleep if you need to, it is some hours until we arrive, and we’ll be boarding a ship as soon as we do. We sail before first light, and I hope to arrive the next morning, the winds willing.”

As the trip wore on, and he noticed she was getting a bit sleepy, her eyelids growing heavy, beginning to drape over her bright gray orbs. “You know, Morgiana’s pet wizard, Olam I believe his name, is said to have the largest collection of magical lore from the past, and some of his own works as well. Perhaps after we’ve dealt with that twit, we’ll have and older pet to teach you, and you can explore his libraries. I’m sure Morgiana will have spent the poor bastard for all he is worth otherwise by now, and if not now then by the time she falls to our forces.”

He saw the eye grow a bit wider. Once again he made their success a personal, tangible goal for the girl, in a way absolving her of some moral strife that she might become a warmonger like him – after all she just wanted to learn…

He softly pet her hair, soothing her and trying to hold back his grin of knowing he won.

 

[LitShark]

“Remove the bag!” Slythe commanded as Frost struggled to sit up.

Frost’s face was battered and bloody, he was also dirty and covered in dust. Slythe shot a glare at Bear who hung his head slightly, avoiding Slythe’s piercing gaze.

“It’s really you… Winter’s Frost, bound and beaten on the floor of my keep.” Slythe hissed as he paced around in front of Frost. “Surely you didn’t think me such a fool that you could walk right up to my keep without being intercepted. Why have you come here?”

Rather than await Frost’s reply Slythe delivered a cruel stomp to his stomach, forcing a trickle of blood to issue from his lips.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Tharalon

“Not long, my dear.”

She held the large book out to Lord Pravus, her face bearing a hopeful look as she sincerely had no desire to part with the leather bound tome. It was simply written and clearly illustrated, and she knows it was a perfect book for her to read and improve her skills.

“Any books you find in the various libraries are at your disposal. I wish you to learn and grow in your power, and if bits of knowledge from the past aid that, then so much the better. I took any volumes even hinting at magic off the shelves, and had them stored and studied in a safe location – I will make arrangement to have those delivered, seeing as how I have my own witch now, and several old men claiming to be scholars have yet to reveal anything of use.”

She took his offered hand and climbed into the carriage, “I don’t think I’ll be able to fathom anything great scholars could not unravel from books but any information I can glean from them may prove helpful. Perhaps, possessing some magic may give me an insight or a perceptive they lacked.” She looked skeptical, but a large part of her reservations stemmed from the knowledge her reading skills will not measure up to the standards set down by scholars.

As Lord Pravus sat down next her in the carriage, Tharalon remembered her very first carriage ride. Her journey to the palace as the tracker’s prisoner, she was so filled with fear that day, so few days ago. She remembered the advice the tracker gave her and how much of it she followed. She owed him a great deal; maybe one day she would even forgive him enough to thank him.

Tharalon opened the large book and set it on her lap, she read what she could of it, understanding enough to identify the plants and match them to ones she has seen in the garden. Reading was a little easier then she thought it would be, and her confidence grew. Practice, she thought, like any other skill, like my other skills, I will become better with practice and patience.

“Sleep if you need to, it is some hours until we arrive, and we’ll be boarding a ship as soon as we do. We sail before first light, and I hope to arrive the next morning, the winds willing.”

“I would like to read for as long as I can; once it is dark I will have no choice and have to stop. Until then I would like to continue.” However, it had been a long day and the gentle rocking of the carriage made it difficult for Tharalon to keep her eyes open and the words on the pages started to blur together.

“You know, Morgiana’s pet wizard, Olam I believe his name, is said to have the largest collection of magical lore from the past, and some of his own works as well. Perhaps after we’ve dealt with that twit, we’ll have an older pet to teach you, and you can explore his libraries. I’m sure Morgiana will have spent the poor bastard for all he is worth otherwise by now, and if not now then by the time she falls to our forces.”

“I’d like to see his libraries.” She smiled eagerly. “I’d like that very much, but if he is her pet can he be trusted to teach me? Even if you freed him from his cruel mistress, would he loyal to you? I don’t know what type of magic he has but what if he tried to use it against you?”

She nods her head beneath his soothing hand, and as her eyes start to drift closed, she says in a soft sleepy voice, “Yes, I would like to see his library.”

 

[Erotic_Beauty]

She looked up watching him come forth and view the maps she had arrayed on the desk and side table. A frown formed on her face and she slanted her eyes toward her magician.

“Are you too failing me?” she hissed, not liking the look of exhaustion that played on his face.

“Pravus’s men are moving. Scouts have seen his men readying themselves for battle. As you are aware he has a small foothold on the border of our lands, but if we can retake that before his ships reach the shores then we will have an advantage.”

She pointed out where the small pockets of soldiers were already moving to advance on the Lord’s men. They were not the finest men, they were merely the fastest on their feet and all were trained to be stealthy.

“Within the hour they should reach the fool’s camps and deal quietly with the weaklings that have lived off the raping of my land.”

She had known that this was coming. To have allowed Pravus’ men to live for so long and not question his hold on the small beach was idiotic of her father, but now she too had made the same mistake. She curled her fist and slammed it hard against the table, knocking things this way and that.

The sound of a whispered, “Excuse me” brought her attention to the door.

She turned and lifted a brow at the young woman.

“You wished to see me?”

Morgaina remembered that this girl had been the one to help Frost and she was to report to her Mistress’s bedchamber. “I’ve no time for you now. My mother will be returning to the keep, you will ready the tower room for her and await for her arrival. Take this moment to relish the fact you still live.”

She turned back to the maps and then glanced at Olam.

“Take the maid something to bring my mother rest. Her mind is still black and she doesn’t need to know of this battle. It will be over before it begins. Afterwards, if you can’t find the strength to continue by my side, stay with her. I don’t need another useless being by my side.”

 

[Pro_Create]

Belcanto is not in this scene...

"He said he was a farmer."

"Huh," Little said, as he thoughtfully quaffed from his tankard. "What does he farm? Mushrooms?" Little chuckled at his own joke, but he was distracted. He had a movement to get, well, moving, but he could not help but play this morning's idyll with his sister-in-law. He had not been so sated since he'd stolen a pie from a neighbor's sill and eaten it as ony greedy little boys could do. A man could get used to this, and the thought frightened him. A truly satisfied man had to be hungry to become Warlord.

He had killed his father when he had set himself on this path. He couldn't just chuck it all and become an inn-keeper; he'd have to kill his half-brother, too. And he liked Freddie.

"The point is," Freddie pressed, "I don't think he's trained. I don't think he has any real control over his power."

"I can break him," Little said darkly. He could break any one, even someone bigger. Of course, the gods didn't make them that much bigger.

"No doubt, but is that the same as training him?" Freddie took a swig from his bottle and that gave Little a moment to think. It was a relatively empty night in the inn; two travelers and a farmer's wife that served as a serving wench had long since gone to their rooms or to home. They could talk with relative freedom, which Fredie did. "If you can make him agree to go with you willingly, you won't need Veni's cart."

"We're not waiting for Judders," Little announced, trying to sound commanding. "I'm going to assume that this boy... Delf? I'm going to assume that Delf can't see his own future... at least, not all that clearly. With him in my power, I have to assume his 'vision' may be different now."

Freddie seemed thoughtful as he stared into a mug that was empty but for a mouthful of foam. "Or that this vision might actually have an escape plan built into it."

Little nodded, "There's that..."

 

[brigid_fitch]

Rhonwen

When they removed the bag from Frost's head, Rhonwen noticed his eyes first. They blazed with pride and defiance; despite the severe beatings he had received in the past hour, he was not going to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him in pain. She admired him for that--it was the same thing she would have done. Never show fear or weakness to an enemy.

“It’s really you… Winter’s Frost, bound and beaten on the floor of my keep...Surely you didn’t think me such a fool that you could walk right up to my keep without being intercepted. Why have you come here?”

Rhonwen searched those cold eyes for a sign. That was the question of the century--why was he here? He had walked right up to the Mountains of Despair, just as she had done. One didn't do that unless one wanted to be caught. But whereas Rhonwen had a plan of action to keep the odds on her side when Slythe finally showed, why didn't Frost plan accordingly? He was not a stupid man, nor reckless. What was his game? Like a cat eyeing her prey, Rhonwen watched Frost, observed every nuance of his body language, looked for clues in his eyes. Even when Slythe kicked him again, surely adding to Frost's already numerous internal injuries, those eyes remained constant--fearless and determined. And he watched her every bit as keenly as she was watching him.

Eyes narrowing, she met his gaze evenly. Whatever it is you're up to Frost, she thought, almost as if he could hear her, I'm going to find out.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Tharalon

Tharalon easily slumbered in the soft bed on the gently rocking ship. Her girlish dreams unmarred by pangs of scruples or feelings of guilt. In her mind, she mostly remained a helpless victim of circumstances, an unfortunate girl manipulated and used by her wily Lord. He was wily, yes, but not evil. The Warlord Pravus had to be cunning to protect his people, to rule his lands, to make a better future for Molovica. Even if her conscious mind was not quite willing to accept responsibility for her actions or see the potential dangers of her choices, her unconscious mind was already exploring the benefits of her new position and enjoying the fruits of her future labors.

However, it would be so much easier if Lord Pravus were a heroic figure acting for the good of his people.

Therefore, she began to remake him in her mind as the Hero of Molovica. He was young and handsome, and she was young and foolish, it was not difficult for her to romanticize him into something more, something better. She wanted was he was offering her, she just needed reasons to say yes, and her dreaming mind had no trouble inventing them.

She would support him and he would set her high above the others. She stirred in her sleep; as a wide grin spread across her sleeping face, her eyes opened to wakefulness.

“A talisman, to keep him fresh and strong in battle, I shall make him one. If he does not grow weary he will not be defeated, he will not be hurt. Even from a distance, I can protect him.”

 

[One Eyed Jack]

Pravus kicked the girl from his bed when done with her, disappointed that she sounded nothing like he imagined Tharalon might in the throws of passion. Highly trained, well bred sex slaves were beginning to really bore him, and his anger over the matter had his harem prettified over that fact.

Still, his body’s most urgent cravings having been barely satisfied, he rolled over and quickly fell asleep. In the gently rocking ship, he slept well, resting after the mental exertions of planning an impromptu campaign. He dreamt of glory, as always. This time crushing Entaca and pressing the combined forces of both lands against the Dark Lord and his forces. He made Morgiana bow to him, after ravaging both her and her castle. He watch his banner fly overhead from every tower. And every step of the way, Tharalon was there, admiring him. He enjoyed her too, and raised her up for the world to see as his – the greatest sorceress in the world was his.

He awoke before the sun rose, and dressed himself, still wearing the grin from last nights visions. Black loose pants, tucked into his calf high polished boots. His black coat was for more adorned today then the simple one he wore in the palace; this with gold trim, buttons and a ruby crusted red hand holding a silver sword over his left breast. His crimson cape attacked to his shoulders by large golden circles. A highly polished leather belt fixed his sword to his waist, and he carried a crown-like circlet attached to a chain mail coif in the pit of his left arm. Dressed he stepped out of his cabin, and passed the door that hid Tharalon from his view on his way up to the main deck.

He hadn’t taken three full steps onto the deck before the Captain of the vessel himself was giving him a report. Everything was as it should be, all the ships sailing in formation perfectly, and they were hours away from shore. Unloading the troops and supplies would take hours more, but the docks having been built on the mainland should help that process. Rowing everything and everyone to shore would have taken at least the rest the day.

Satisfied with the report, he went to the bow of the ship, and looked out at the landmass that was barely visible. He would own that, all of it. He’d take it as a trophy, the ultimate victory. None had ruled over all the known world in over 400 years, even if the last dynasty of Kings claimed to do so. They had lost bits and pieces due to neglect and apathy of retaking them. But Pravus would have it all, then look for more.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Tharalon

She saw him poised at the bow of the ship. His eyes searching for the distant shore, the site of his future conquest, the land that would one day, one day soon, be his. It was an inspiring image; the wind ripped through his scarlet cape and pushed at his blond hair, but made no other impression on him. He stood impervious to the forces of nature, neither rocking of the ship on the sea’s harsh waves or the power of the wind had an effect on him.

Tharalon clutched cautiously at the rail, for although she was raised in a fishing village she had never been at sea before and the rolling of the ship played havoc with her balance. She was pleased to note it did not discomfort her stomach. She moved carefully towards the bow, oblivious to the suspicious stares of the crew, who knew only that she was Lord Pravus’ witch but had no idea what The Witch could do.

She stood back for a few moments, allowing him the privacy of his thoughts until his attention seemed to wander and then she joined him at the bow. Her own black cloak whipped behind her revealing a gown of black and gold that was very similar to his own ensemble, except n Tharalon their was no red, save the color of her fair and the excited flush of her cheeks.

Unlike Lord Pravus’, Tharalon felt pressure of wind and held tightly to the rail as she swayed with it. She smiled, enjoying the contest to remain on her feet.

“My Lord, how soon before we disembark?” Unwilling to release her grip from the rail, she allows a few loose curls to blow across her cheek as she looks up to him. “I would like to imbue a talisman for you to take with you but I will require time, undisturbed.”

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Lisheeda meets herself. . .

Lisheeda lay huddled in her little corner, eventually sleep having claimed her. In time she awoke and felt a new sense of fear sweep through her. She felt pain as the bruises and swelling distorting her features consumed her and she wiped gently at the tears that had fallen. Her sex and ass were tender, but not sore. She ran her hands down her body and felt no ill effects of being used, her face however she knew was anything but beautiful to gaze upon.

A noise stirred outside the door and she panicked, worrying that she was about to be brought to the Lord again. She felt herself stiffen and the relax as she heard several shuffling through the dark halls. Opening her eyes wider, she strained to listen and heard the muffles of guards as they shoved what she assumed was another prisoner into a cell. She moved cautiously on her hands and knees, refusing to acknowledge the dung from the various rodents that shared her cell as what was truly the spongy stuff she was walking across. If she’d been her old self she would have covered herself in the filth and hidden from her captors, but she was beyond being able to do that now. She did know that another bath would be in order before she was taken again at least she’d be thankful for that.

When she reached the door to her cell she peered under it, not really seeing anything through the small slit between the floor and the door. When the door across from her seemed to open and a prisoner was shoved in she waited for the guards to leave before slowly rising up to try and peer out of various cracks and holes that were scattered throughout the door.

She heard nothing more, nor made out anything of worth, but then heard the sound of the Lord and she scurried back to her corner, fearful for her safety. No one opened her door and she sighed in relief, though strained. She listened to his bellowing and then the knowing thumbs of him abusing another.

“He’s just a man who uses brawn to get what he wants.”

Lisheeda’s eyes grew wide and she stared at the woman in the corner. “Who are you?” she whispered and slowly rose as if she could protect herself.

“You idiot. Do you not know me? I am tired of living in your head. You need me here with you, not in your mind. So. . .what should we do about you and your now ruined state?”

“Go away,” she whispered and closed her eyes. “You are to stay in my head. That is where you belong.”

“Oh Lisheeda. . .I belong with you and now I can protect you.”

Lisheeda fell to the floor and clutched her stomach, rocking herself back and forth. It was just her mind playing tricks on her. She’d spewed her meal, suffered a great abuse, and now was living in the depths of a demon’s castle. “Please,” she whispered, “go away.” She repeated the words softly as she wept and trembled.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

Pravus pretended not to notice the girl approaching, but the silence behind him and light, uneven footfalls told him exactly who came. He focused longer on the land ahead of them even when she reached his side until she spoke. Only then did he look down to her soft features, which did wander to soften his own expression.

“We should reach the shore in a few hours, the process to offload will take hours more, you may use that time, if it is enough, or when we reach the fort.” Having answered her question he searched her eyes as to why she felt compelled to do such a thing.

“Tell me more of this talisman you plan to create. What will it do, and what all will you need to do it?” he took another wary glance at her. “And if I may inquire, why is it you wish to craft such a treasure for me?” His voice remained soft and inquisitive, as if he asked her what her favorite color was, but inside he was truly taken back. Was she trying to kill or control him? Her face showed no sighs of tension or stress; so either she meant no harm, or she had been come the world’s most confident assassin overnight.

Still, logic be damned, he had a difficult time thinking someone wished to aid him without some gain t be had. Having her watched while she made the item would do no good, for no one could tell the nature of her work. It came down to trust; something Pravus had precious little of.

“What have I done to deserve your gifts my dear Tharalon?” again, he spoke softly and almost playfully, despite the true nature of his question. .

 

[Katamari Roller]

Brita had heard a lot of things about Frost. Nothing too specific besides the swathes he cut through his enemy's ranks. But right now, the way he was slumped on the floor... he inspired nothing but pity to her. Still, Brita knew better than to try and help him. First, because such a hated enemy was going to be tortured no matter what she did. Second, because showing pity for him might make Slythe jealous. And jealousy became anger easily when you were a Dark Lord.

Brita stepped out of the cell, not wanting to see what was about to come. Because that promised to be beyond her own threshold. The screams would probably make her cover her ears soon...

Brita rose her eyes from the floor when she heard a sound coming from the cell beside Frost's. It sounded... quite like... someone crying? But not a man. Brita stepped closer to the cell's door, her immaculate dress and fur coat dragging along the wet floor, but the magical protection in them pushed the filth and the water away. Sometimes, Brita wondered if the humidity in Slythe's dungeon was the same in all other dungeons.

There was a small overture on the door with a wooden plaque on it that, pulled aside, would let anyone look inside. But Brita could tell easily that she was not tall enough to look through it. She frowned. Why did all servants of darkness have to be so tall? They should be shorter, that would help more in their endeavours... and there was no other way to peek inside the cell. Brita felt frustrated at not being able to sate her curiousity... although, in second thought, maybe she didn't really want to know who was inside. But...

 

[LitShark]

The spectacle that was “Frost in Defeat” became less novel by the moment. In fact, Slythe’s stomach was beginning to turn watching this formerly fearsome rival, staring up at him, bloody mouth agape in a wordless stupor, apparently dumbfounded by being faced with a murderous villain such as himself. Slythe couldn’t help but think about how much like a caught fish Frost looked in that moment, bleeding from his mouth and staring slack jawed upward as if gasping for air.

“Your silence grows boring… if you are mute by choice I will torture a confession of your purpose from you.” Slythe hissed at Frost. “Bear take him to the dungeon.”

The large gruff looking man scooped up Frost and the gathered crowd made their way to the dungeon. Frost was placed across from the new sex slave. Slythe and company made their way into the dank and humid basement.

“I have many questions for you Frost.” Slythe began as the Night Watch guards chained Frost to the wall. “It would be in your best interest to loosen that tongue of yours right away.”

 

[Erotic_Beauty]

Morgiana knew Olam would return, his life meant something to him. Had he decided he was too weak to serve her, then he would have outlived his usefulness...at least this is what she told herself. She feared there was a weakness in her heart for the magician, one that she feared would be her downfall.

"Our men will be taking this incomplete fortress that Pravus started a few months ago. As you are aware the two others are strong and well fortified as far as men go. Basic supplies would be stocked, but this one," she said, pointing to the earlier mark, "will not have the men or the provisions for our invasion."

Her lead general joined in, "Though this is just a first strike it will be enough to deplete one third of his men on land. He's been in a hurry to build up this fort and has used double the workers on it, incorporating some of his warriors to assist instead of just keeping it to his slaves."

She pulled down another map, showing the path of the river as well as the forest where her witch girl had escaped.

"By now Frost should be in the enemies hand, so we will leave the Dark Lord alone for the time being. Once we capture Pravus and destroy him, his men will pledge their loyalty to me or die and then we will seek out the death of our remaining enemy."

"Olam, I have given Alantar license to use the poison you prepared for my father, the one that he often used on his enemy during battle. There was just enough in the supply for the first wave of forces and they have tipped their swords, knives, and arrows with the oil. By doing this we may lay blame at Slythe's feet instead of our own."

She shrugged her shoulders.

"It may give us a few hours of distraction as he scurries about wondering which of us is his biggest threat. I am after all, nothing but a weak woman in his eyes," she sneered.

"Once this is destroyed, the closest fortress will be aware of our attack and they will send reinforcements, during that time a second wave will assault the second fortress. Our spies have delivered vast amounts of information on Pravus' land here in Entaca; this information as you are aware helped the slaves to construct a tunnel which will topple one wall of his fort, with only an hour or two more of digging."

Again her general piped in, "Once that is done we will storm, but by then the ships that were seen readying themselves through Dominic's spyglass will be moments from shore, our men will retreat, regroup and leave Pravus questioning which warlord attacked him."

Morgaina dismissed her general and then moved to her desk. She sighed and then laid her head on the hard beams that served as her work space.

"Relieve me of this tension," she demanded, though her voice was soft.

Inside she feared she was about to fall under the thumb of another man, one that would destroy her more than any had before.

 

[Tseranc]

Olam watched, and listened attentively to the plans being made, though in al honesty he cared about them only so much as to know that war would blanket the land again, and the last of the poison he had been force to make would be spent. He knew nothing would prevent this, nothing said by him at any rate, and so he listened.

But when the general was dismissed, Lady Morgiana dropped her guard, an extreme rarity, even in his presence. He moved to comply with her soft instructions, stepping behind her, and gently placing his hands on her shoulders. He began massaging her neck and shoulders, softly at first but increasing the pressure to drive out the tension. He might be require to massage her entire body, and truth be told he didn’t mind at all. Of all his duties and demands, it was things like this that felt the most human. Times like this he could forget she ruled her land with the threat of death or worse, and just be a man giving his Mistress a massage.

“Does this help my Mistress?” he knew that he had already done some good, as the tension in her neck had decreased; not gone, but decreased. He wondered if a company of man working to loosen her muscles would achieve success in a year, as much as this woman worried and held herself to such a strict demeanor.

He continued, moving lower down her arms, feeling the muscle turn into the soft flesh of a woman once more.

He stood up, when he could reach no lower or do anything else without her will. “How else might I serve Mistress? Perhaps a tea?” He would not presume to recommend anything else with her, even if seeing her in such a state, and caressing her young and enticing body had stirred thoughts and feelings no man could deny.

 

[Erotic_Beauty]

Her eyes closed on their own accord. She rolled her shoulders and allowed herself to become lost in his touch.

"No tea," she whispered, knowing her ease showed through her voice. She turned her head to the side, giving him her neck. He worked willingly to caress and ease the tension.

"I'm going to fail," she whispered and then took a deep breath, tossing her head back and pushing him away.

She carefully began to remove her clothing.

"There is more to me than arms, Olam," she muttered.

Soon the maps were pushed to the floor and she looked back at him.

"Disrobe and climb up here. Lay down and remain there while I make sure you don't over exhaust yourself further."

She left him where he was while she moved to the other side of the room and opened a drawer. Olam would be ready for her when she turned back around. He knew what was coming. She pulled out the leather restraints, the buckles clacking loudly.

"You are tired, so for a rarity, I will indulge you. . .You will not overly exert yourself this time," she told him as she made her selections.

Only when she was satisfied that she had what she wanted did she turn around. Her gaze was hungry and she was surprised by how much she looked forward to what was to follow.

 

[Tseranc]

Olam was surprised by her instructions, but not her tone. She had come back from her moment of being just a woman, and was once again speaking with a flat, matter of fact voice, that knew she would be obeyed.

He stripped, his robe being carefully draped over the back of the chair, his pants and shirt quickly folded and set beside his boots and belt. His quickly organized pile of clothes contrasted the scattering of maps and markers she had created on the floor.

Without any outward signs of hesitation he sat up on the desk, and laid back. Inside he was a twist of anticipation, fear, apprehension, and curiosity. He heard the sounds he knew so well, leather restraints, their steel buckles and rings chiming in the distance. Those sounds drowned out any other selection she had made, so the knot in his stomach tightened, not knowing if the following moments would be a sign of her generosity or her displeasure. Certainly she had said few enough things that either could be possible.

He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and calmed himself. What would come, good or ill, would come. Thoughts of resisting her never much entered into his mind. He would not be another man to betray her trust, heavens knew she’d seen far too many of them already.

 

[Erotic_Beauty]

Morgaina felt her pulse quicken as she eyed her magician. She didn't want to think about the pleasure she would bring him in the end. She didn't want to like what she was feeling, but she knew she was going to, Olam however would never see that, or so she hoped.

She tossed back her head and approached him. Her fingers ran down his chest, cupped his balls, squeezed gently and then abandoned him. "You need to remain still," she told him and dropped her restraints next to his ribs.

Her fingers curled around one and she ran the leather and buckles down his leg, letting the iron trail against his inner thigh. She reached his ankle and wrapped the band around him, tightened it and then hooked its chain to one of the iron circles that had been placed there by her father many years ago.

For a moment she shuddered, recalling that she was once on this desk in this same manner, but there had been ten men using her. She pushed the memory away and soon secured his other ankle.

Walking around to the side of the desk, she picked up the remaining two straps, using each one to secure his arms. They were strapped together and stretched above his head and then tightened more when the chain was secured to another iron circle.

"Move very little, but do not forget your job," she told him as she pulled a stool up to the desk and climbed on.

Her hair fell in waves down her back and covered her breasts, but she simply pushed the locks out of the way.

Her mouth hovered against his and she wanted to kiss him with passion, and receive true passion back. She moved to do just that, then told herself she was silly and needed to use him for what he was. She instead kissed the corner of his mouth, masked her emotions and turned her body around.

Her knees rested on either side of his head and her lips now waited to cover his cock.

"Remember Olam, you are a tired magician, a weak man who must go slow. . . but you still have a job to perform. Do not rush my pleasure, or allow yours to come too soon."

Her hand lifted his cock and she covered it in a blanket of warmth. Her tongue sliding around the head and teasing the tip, before she moved to take it deeper.

 

[Tseranc]

Olam remained as still as the bored he was soon affixed to, letting the woman bind him to the desk. Only after he was secured beyond hope of escape, did she speak her intentions to him. He held back a sigh of relief, which came surprisingly after his mind leaped with excitement.

When she bent down to kiss him, a peck on the corner of his mouth, he wished to taste her, to show her his gratitude; yet he held back, for she had told him of a job to do, he was not a true lover to cherish and enjoy her passion.

He knew he looked like little more then a slab of meat on the long table. He didn’t need to look down to know how his body reacted, his rod stiff and jutting up between spread legs. His shoulders were somewhat sore from their position above his head, wrists chained together, but he pushed that sensation down, enjoying the intimacy his Mistress showed him. He had seen her barely raise her skirts so a slave could service her, and kicked him away once done; to draw so much attention, to see her fully nude once more, as well as being potentially allowed his own release…his eyes watered.

As she positioned herself, he took in the beauty of her form, her sex so openly displayed for his eyes to feast on. “Yes my Mistress,” he promised after her reminder and instructions. He felt a pang of guilt wash through him as her lips touched his cock, before he could arch his head up high enough to reach her. He wiggled slightly, gaining the precious few inches he needed, and planted his face in his mistress’s lips. His tongue snaked out to gently stroke her folds, drifting up and down the fleshy crevice.

“Thank you, Mistress Morgiana,” he paused long enough to say, before diving back in, this time working his pink muscle into her hole, which grew wetter by the second. It felt more intimate to him to use her name, as well as title, and hoped he would be forgiven if that crossed a line.

Slowly he worked, licked and sucked on her pussy, the pain in his shoulders aching, but forgotten in his excitement to please her. Only the feelings she sent through his shaft had any effect to distract him, and those he tried to both enjoy and ignore. Muffled moans of his enjoyment were proof enough that her actions could not be ignored though; vibrating into her soft lips as he continued to feast.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Tharalon

“We should reach the shore in a few hours, the process to offload will take hours more, you may use that time, if it is enough, or when we reach the fort.”

She smiles as he searches her eyes, “I think I’d rather do it on stable ground, I don’t want to be distracted by the rolling of the waves.” She chuckles and bends her knees, relaxing her posture, she moves with the ship instead of fighting to remain stiff, “Although, I can see them becoming quite fun once you get used to them.”

“Tell me more of this talisman you plan to create. What will it do, and what all will you need to do it?”

Losing herself in the roll of the waves, Tharalon misses Pravus’ wary glance. “Well… It is a bolster. I would give something like it to a mother tending a house full of sick children, to keep her alert when she is not getting enough sleep, to keep her strong when she is working too hard. In battle, when others are bone-weary, you will still be fresh, powerful, and quick, when others can no longer think, you will remain focused. It will not make you more powerful or faster than you are, it will simply allow you to continue beyond what is normal for any man.”

She takes her gaze off the water and turns back to him. “Don’t you think that would be useful? When it is over you will need a solid night of sleep and a hearty meal, but there are no other ill-effects.”

“And if I may inquire, why is it you wish to craft such a treasure for me? What have I done to deserve your gifts my dear Tharalon?”

Her cheeks flush pink and to hide it she turns back to face the sea. Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, she chews it for a moment while she tries to think. She releases her lip and turns to head to him again before she speaks.

Her tone is formal and her face unsmiling. “You are my Lord; it is my duty to protect you so you may act for the benefit of all your people.” A small smile teases her lips, “You have been kind to me, and I wish to show my appreciation.” She glances down at the deck before raising her eyes to his. “But mostly, my lord, it is because you have awaked the aspiration in me to explore my abilities, and you should be the first to benefit from my desire.”

“This talisman will be simple enough, but perhaps in the future, I can make you nearly invincible…” Her body rocks with the waves of the sea and her eyes shine brightly as she considers how far her abilities might one day reach.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

Pravus took in her answers and let his smile return. She truly was not out to harm him, and was eager to spread her wings, letting him enjoy the results. By the time she was done speaking, he could see the hunger in her eyes. Indeed she would be a powerful tool, and her uncontrolled excitement brought other thoughts to his mind as what she could be used for.

“Very well my sweet witch. You shall have all the time and resources you require once we dock and secure camp. It will take another half-day march to our new home, so we shall camp on the shore as we unload.”

He looked out to the shore, and was pleased by how fast it grew closer. Molovica was a small nation, a mere island, but it had remained independent all the years after the fall of the last empire due to its ships. No finer, or faster craft could be found then those of the Molovican navy. Pravus knew this, and while his own talents and ambitions lie in the offensive nature of land combat, he knew to maintain his naval forces, and see that they remained the best. All the admirals and captains were members of the Red Hand, and knew their craft. The fleet would arrive, far larger, and far faster then any on shore could assume, even if they knew the departure time, and message was sent via pigeon.

Glancing back down to the tiny girl beside him, “I am kind because you are worth it. You are powerful, and wish to be more so – something I can respect and sympathize with. Perhaps we are rather alike in many ways Tharalon.” He paused and heard the bell chime for the meal to be served. “I believe I shall keep your pretty face near me as often as possible. Come dine with me, I find that I rather enjoy your company.”

He motioned toward the back of the ship, where they would dine in his quarters. He even offered his arm, to lead her as a gentleman, and help her walk across the swaying deck.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Tharalon

“Very well my sweet witch. You shall have all the time and resources you require once we dock and secure camp. It will take another half-day march to our new home, so we shall camp on the shore as we unload.”

“Thank you, my lord. I will begin as soon as we make camp ashore. Undisturbed solitude is most important in the first stage, when I lay the framework. After that, is a matter of increasing the strength of the talisman and that may be done in stages.” She cants her head to the side for a moment as she pauses to think. “I should make two, my lord. First, I wish to make one as I have described, I have made a few of them before and envision no difficulty in its creation…, but then I wish to begin on another, one that will give you… more.”

She smiles eagerly at the prospect; this is not a leap into something new that she is planning but a hard push down a familiar path. Unlike the use of her darker ability, she faces no ethical questions, no moral ambiguity following this course.

“As I said, my lord, you have been kind …”

“I am kind because you are worth it. You are powerful, and wish to be more so – something I can respect and sympathize with. Perhaps we are rather alike in many ways Tharalon.”

For a moment, Tharalon tries to see herself, to look clearly and judge herself honestly. It was her first attempt but she shies away from the truth before gaining much insight.

“I cannot say, my lord, I have so much to learn. For now, I know, my abilities can support your ambitions, and that I will do. I find you …”

The dinner bell cut off her next words and she nods to herself thinking that perhaps it was for the best.

“I believe I shall keep your pretty face near me as often as possible. Come dine with me, I find that I rather enjoy your company.”

She smiled and took his offered arm before releasing the ship’s rail and she briefly relied on his strength to keep her from falling while she walked with him. She realized she trusted him, and believed that as long as she was loyal in her service to him that trust was not misplaced. While she still had little understanding of herself, she felt she finally understood him, and that made her feel safe and gave her a measure of peaceful contentment. As they walked across the deck, a flicker of the warmth she felt passed from her hand to the arm it held for support.

“And I enjoy yours, my lord.”