Lords of Itaea

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Tharalon

By the time she realized how foolish it was to return to the carter’s home, it was too late. She was already there, and it was clear he still needed her. It was easier, much easier to mend a broken bone than a lung punctured by a rib. It was easier to chase away a fever than to bring down a swelling of the head. Yet all that needed to be done if the carter was to survive.

Well, silly girl, you wanted a place to stay for the night and its clear this will take all night, so it seems you’ve found your place.

She made a concoction of foul smelling herbs for him to drink. They would do nothing more than help him rest but pungent odor always seemed to instill confidence in the patient and his family, as if something that awful just had to be good. She boiled bandages in the concoction, again mostly for effect, although grandmother said wounds covered by bandages boiled in the herbs seemed less likely to turn angry.

Tharalon shared a poor meal with the family, feeling guilty about eating their food when they obviously had so little. She worked through the night, sleeping only when her body was too drained from her efforts to remain awake. She worked diligently and carefully, still not certain how she hurt the guard, she did not want to accidentally hurt this poor man.

She wanted to work quickly, to get out and away as soon as possible but her patient required a delicate, time-comsuming touch. It was foolish to have remained so close to the tavern and the place where the guard stopped her, she should have hidden on the other side of the city. All she could do was hope that before the family woke up, he would be well enough for her to sneak out of their home and out of the city.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

He on the rooftop across from where the guard said the witch had assaulted him. He watched the spot on occasion, but kept his eye to the streets more. She’d be a fool to return to the scene, and that’s why Vonar chose to sit here. She was a fool. No one left an injured man go to be witness to your crime. She had a purpose here, and many had muttered about various red haired girls in the area. The buzz from that fool lieutenant’s fuck up already putting neighbors against each other for fear of Lord’s wrath at hiding a witch. He had heard that the fool Yarol had been taken down to the dungeons already, and had pleaded with the guard to simply kill him before taking him in.

Still, anyone held his suspicion right now, the hours just before dawn. None but the guards had walked the streets this night, and even they looked like they had something to hide. No, what he waited for was a much smaller target.


*

Yarol screamed as salt was rubbed into yet another fresh cut down his back. He hung from his wrists, and stretched by his ankles to the floor, adding tension every time another thin slice was made. Pravus watched the man’s face as he sat drinking his wine. “I believe you to have not only failed me, but betrayed me. Never before had you been so foolish, so now I must think either you’ve lost your sense, or you wished her to escape. Either way, you’re of little use to me, and my surgeon here could use the practice. Think of this as your last contribution to the world.”

He took another long sip, as yet another blood curdling scream reached out into the night.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Tharalon

Tharalon smiled at the children as the family once again shared their meager meal with her. However, with this meal she did not feel quite as bad as she had at the last. The father would recover and be able to support his family again. It would take a few weeks but in time the body that should have died will be healthy than it was before the accident. Just to be certain the family didn’t starve while they were waiting for his recovery, she dropped a few coins under his bed – one of the little children would find them in a day or two and the family would eat.

She looked out the little window and saw the city waking and coming to life. She could probably stay where she is until nightfall but that really would not change her situation for the better. She already knew that sneaking around the city in the middle of the night was dangerous and she was not very good at it. She would wait, but not until night. She would wait until lunchtime, people would be distracted with thought of their meals, eaten or soon to be eaten, and they would be would be tired from a workday only half completed. Hopefully, they would be too involved in their own concerns to pay attention to her.

She wrapped her cloak around her body and raised her hood; she took a deep breath before stepping out the door. She tried to maintain a casual pace as she walked down the street. Not too fast, not too slow, just moving with the crowd, as she started towards the other side of the city.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

Vonar the hunter

Vonar came down off the rooftop sometime after dawn, and the city came alive. He’d stayed out all night to no avail, but he didn’t believe any of his brethren faired any better. Still, he could not stay up on a roof, someone would notice him, and that would not suit him.

So down he went and found a nearby inn, paying with enough coin to be asked few questions as he ate a meal and retired when most guests were getting up. He slept only a few hours, knowing that there was lost time to make up for. He left out the back, the room more then paid for, without a word. He stopped to take lunch in the local tavern, and ate while listening to the gossip of old men, and their war stories. He’ counted at least three men who would have been killed should Lord Pravus hear of their opinions. But Vonar was not a rat, or spy. His talents lay in acquiring people, and that was it. city guards, or whatever else the young upstart Lord employed to spy on his own people could worry about what the populace thought, he only cared about what they said – which so far, was nothing useful.

The rough, unshaven man got up to leave, dropping a few coins on the table, but stopped when the door to the kitchen swung open an he heard the tavern owner cursing about a girl who had failed to show up this morning. He snuck to the back and into the kitchen as another barmaid brought ale and meat out to the customers.

The kitchen staff looked shocked to see him, but he wasted no time, grabbing the owner and hauling him down to the cellar. A gruff voice that seemed to match the man’s appearance demanded details about the missing girl. In short order he had her description, and name, as well as a very eager agreement from the stout man that he’d never seen the hunter, and if any other asked without displaying authority from Lord Pravus, the girl was sick, and sought the attention of an apothecary.

He exited the tavern and found himself a dark corner to smoke a pipe and watch the crowds. Patients always had been his greatest strength.

 

[brigid_fitch]

Rhonwen

As Slythe approached, Rhonwen struggled to contain her anger, her hatred. Although outwardly she showed no signs of being the slightest bit affected by his presence, she began to question why she had bothered coming. If she weren't going to kill him outright, as he more than deserved, why was she here? He was the richest of the warlords, that was true, but why by all the Gods had she decided to actually help him? She was sure that, beneath his bravado, Slythe was equally unnerved. Her reputation always preceded her and she knew most of Zaloh had heard of her exploits. Many were regarded as hyperbole at best, but she knew stories existed of a white-haired maiden who fought without mercy, without fear.

“I knew this day would come...You couldn’t get enough of the cock? I guess you missed the midnight ass rapes, or maybe the crack of my whip. You’ll have to do a lot of begging to get back into my good graces, but as I recall, begging was your specialty.”

The memories almost came flooding back and, with a struggle, she was able to stem the tide. She sips on her tea, her cold eyes never leaving Slythe, her crossbow never wavering from its target. For all his boasting, she knew that her presence here was infuriating him; she was a reminder that of all his slaves, of all his possessions, this one who was most prized had slipped through his grasp. As his men crudely laughed at the image of her being raped and whipped, Rhonwen merely smiled.

"Well, it's difficult to get enough of something so small." She put down her tankard and held up her hand so his men could see, her thumb and forefinger about 4 inches apart. "'Needle dick the bug fucker' we used to call you in the slaves' quarters. I'm surprised your men haven't figured out yet why you carry such an oversized staff. Compensating for something, are we?" A snicker and a few coughs could be heard from the archers and swordsmen. The warlord stopped his approach then, his men shifting uncomfortably, unsure of what to do next. Slythe was no doubt grateful for the mask covering his face, but Rhonwen would have given all the money on her person to have been able to see his expression as she spoke. She stood slowly and shook off her cloak, still smiling as her eyes narrowed.

"But now we're in a different time and place. Your petty rivalries with Pravus and Morgaine are evolving into an all-out war. Even now you waste manpower along your borders, entering into daily skirmishes over a few feet of swampland. You lose 5 men yesterday trying to capture a slip of a girl hiding in the forest. You obligate 14 of your best men today to investigate one lone trespasser. You're getting careless and stupid. You barely escaped Frost yesterday, but you can be sure he won't give you another such chance."

She bent down to pick up her tea again, sipping it calmly. Now she was back in her element. "So, I've come here to make a proposition. You need a general, one who not only knows strategy and tactics, but has the strength and skill to carry them out. You've been in that tower too long, lording over your vassals. I've been in the thick of battles, wars, in many different lands. I'm sure you've heard some of the stories and know I speak the truth. I fight for whomever pays me, but I learn from them all.

"I can help you defeat both Pravus and Morgaine. The only question you have to answer is, how much would that be worth to you?"

 

[LitShark]

Once Rhonwen had finished speaking a low chuckle began to rumble low in Slythe’s chest the chuckle became louder and louder until he was roaring with laughter. He had made a mental note of which of his archers had laughed at Rhonwen’s idle jabs, he’d be sure that each of their wives knew just how little need of compensation he needed. He gasped for the air to speak between fits of laughter.

“If your tales of conquests are as fictitious as your stories of your captivity I’d be better to hire my stable boy to lead the forces of darkness.” Slythe slowly regained his composure, “Whatever tales you have gleaned from rival lands is purely propaganda. Furthermore, I lost three men and saw two of my enemies dead. It was Frost who was lucky to escape me, not the other way around and as for being in my tower, I am the only warlord who still takes the battlefield rather than sending hunters or assassins to do my dirty work.”

Slythe continued walking toward her. He was now dragging the head of his staff along the ground, killing the grass as he moved. When he got about 3 meters from her he dipped the end of his staff into the lake, contaminating the waters with the fast spreading disease he had enchanted into the wood when he still had powers.

“The only true thing you said was that I am the wealthiest of all of the Warlords. Now then...” Slythe grinned his words had distracted her from the fact that her beloved horse was still drinking from the infected waters. “If you want your horse to live to see the sunset, I suggest that you apologize for spreading such slanderous lies about me and put down your bow, so that I can give your little pet the antidote and we can continue these negotiations like adults.”

He hoped she would swallow her pride and do as he said... If that horse died there would surely be blood spilled today. The disease was very potent and would take root in her as well if she touched the beast.

 

[Katamari Roller]

Snuggling in her dress and coat, Brita felt sleep overcome her. Slowly, it drifted over her, and around her, floating like a warm mist that gently blew on her eyes, like a faerie. Of course, Brita normally wouldn't have fallen asleep in such a place. Lord Zathu's bedroom was comfortable enough, and so was hers.

Even if she rarely slept in her bed. Dreams would cut her train of thought as she sat on her balcony, under the stars. Looking up at the moon, or at the snowy landscape that teased her from afar, cruelly. A faint fog would glide around the hills, and the winds would call for her. Brita missed her home so much, even if it was a barren landscape, blinding white... and yet, even like that, it was beautiful.

Snuggling in her fur coat, Brita's consciousness slipped away towards those faraway lands. Pure white... storms blew sometimes, making the air almost solid. And that was when she would dig into the snow, and use her thick coat to wrap herself into a ball, sleeping isolated completely from the cold. Even her metallic hand would become warm to the touch.

Back in the real world, Brita breathed softly, and her metallic hand creaked once, when she almost made herself into a full ball and retracted it into the folds of her coat. Definitely, not the best place to fall asleep. There was no one there right now, and sleeping where a slave might hurt her or steal from her... but Brita didn't think of that. Her mind was now lost in the vast landscape of Ragash.

 

[brigid_fitch]

Rhonwen

Rhonwen's calm expression never changed, never faltered as Slythe laughed. She knew he would do whatever it took to save face and if that took dismissing her boasts, then so be it. But his men would always wonder. Besides, she knew they had heard of her; she had noticed the murmurs among them when she threw off her cloak. If her white hair hadn't given away her identity, the fitted, well-polished armor she wore certainly did. She watched him carve a swathe in the grass as he moved, knowing the power his staff possessed. She pretended to be distracted by his speech as he neared the lake that Padraig was still drinking from. For a moment, she didn't think him capable of poisoning the lake--of killing all wildlife living within and around its shores. Moving to stop him, regardless of the recklessness of his actions, would be a show of weakness. Besides, there was too much risk of coming in contact with that staff. She was right, though--he had become careless and stupid. In his effort to prove himself the dominant will, he had contaminated the region's largest water source.

"Now then...if you want your horse to live to see the sunset, I suggest that you apologize for spreading such slanderous lies about me and put down your bow, so that I can give your little pet the antidote and we can continue these negotiations like adults.”

Rhonwen sighed and looked at Slythe, her expression unreadable. She slowly looked towards Padraig whose muzzle was still dripping from drinking at the now-polluted lake. He whinnied once and started towards her as Slythe waited patiently for her apology. Then she suddenly raised her crossbow and shot the animal between the eyes. The horse blinked once and fell over, dead.

"Now, you said something about acting like adults, Slythe." She said evenly as she turned to face the dark warlord again. "If you truly wish to negotiate, things will go much more quickly if you stop being such a petulant child." Her crossbow was already fitted with another bolt; no one had seen her reload. "I've fought with Pravus' troops and against them. I know almost all of their strategies and weaknesses. And I know he has his sights on his own witch and is probably very close to obtaining her. You can either hire me, or you can arm yourself against me when I offer my services to Pravus. The choice is yours." And, with the crossbow still trained on Slythe, she calmly picked up her tankard and finished her tea.

 

[LitShark]

Slythe Zathu

Slythe made a discontented ‘tsk’ sound by sucking his teeth for a moment. Slythe stood there flat footed for a beat, before scattering white powder from a leather pouch at his hip into the pond just as fish were beginning to float to the surface belly up. Battle certainly had hardened Rhonwen since he’d last seen her, she had called his bluff without hesitation and now these negotiations were more hostile than they had been a moment ago.

“Well it seems you value your ego above your comrades. What would happen if my men came between you and your ego? What reason have I to trust someone with no sense of loyalty and a vendetta against me.” Slythe was speaking his honest thoughts (for once), “While it’s true that it would be much to my detriment to have you align yourself with my rivals, I have no guarantee that you’ll be less detrimental within my own ranks.”

Slythe rubbed his skull mask with his palm. It was a frightening proposition to allow this wild woman among his ranks, but even more frightening to think of her staring across the battlefield at him with the icy gaze that she was giving him now. The loud clang of gold coins was muffled by the leather sack that landed in the dust at Rhonwen’s feet.

“These coins and my strongest horse will serve as your first month’s wage. Depending upon the value of your services we will negotiate your further employ.” Slythe spoke evenly as he led his tall black horse toward Rhonwen. “Make no mistake, if you even smell of a double cross, your screams will reach the ears of my enemies from your slow agonizing death. For now... Welcome to the dark army.”

 

[brigid_fitch]

Rhonwen

Rhonwen looked at the pouch at her feet and finally lowered the crossbow, sliding it into its holster on her back. She reached for the pouch and felt its weight. Not bad, she thought. She opened it and glanced inside, estimating how much was in there. Not bad at all. Slythe may be careless and stupid, but he was evidently not ungenerous.

"This is your guarantee." She replied coolly, and hooked the pouch onto her belt. "As for the horse," she said, looking over the stallion he presented to her, "I prefer to choose my own mount." She walked towards Slythe's men, watching their horses with a trained eye. They all stood perfectly still, obeying their masters' slightest commands--all but one, a dapple grey who snorted and pawed the ground as she approached. Rhonwen clicked her tongue soothingly at the animal and it looked at her, regarding her with what could almost be construed as contempt.

"This one will do."

The swordsman looked down at Rhonwen and then at Slythe, uncertain as to what to do. She had just been hired by the dark lord, but he had been right in his words to her--how could anyone trust her? She had shown courage in standing up to the evil warlord--more courage than he himself had possessed in the 10 years since serving under him. But she was wild, unpredictable. The man looked towards Slythe for direction and, when he nodded assent, slowly dismounted and handed the reins to the white-haired warrior.

Rhonwen mounted the horse with ease, her armor seemingly to be no hindrance at all to her. It moved with her as if it were one with the woman. The horse whinnied and neighed, rearing up repeatedly as it tried to throw this new rider. Slythe and the other men were obviously amused by this turn of events, but Rhonwen was non-plussed. The woman expertly reined the horse in, still nickering softly to it, until it finally quieted down. She spurred the horse towards Slythe and looked down on her new employer.

"So, does your brewer still stock his trademark ale in your keep? It's been a rather trying morning and I could use a drink."


OOC: Rhonwen's new horsey

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Tharalon

Tharalon was at a loss.

Her family expected her to move to the city, having learned her lesson, and live quietly, drawing no attention to herself or her abilities, so they never told her what to do if something went wrong. She had no plan; she had no idea how to come up with a plan. Escape from the city seemed the obvious solution to her problem.

But how?

Should she try a mad dash for the gate and hike to the nearest town? Does trying to hide within the city make any sense? Will something else come along and capture the interest of the guard? Will she be able find a place the city to hide? What seemed so simple last night has become a terrifying reality in the light of day.

She walked across the city. Finding her way was not too difficult, she knew the general layout, the main streets neatly running east-west and north-south, and between them, a warren of tiny dirty shacks in dark twisting alleys. She walked as if she knew where she was going ‘though she had no destination in mind.

She knew they were looking for her, but she did not know if they were looking for a healer or a red-haired escapee from the city guard. When she made it to the marker, she bought a white cap to hide her hair and traded her gray cloak for one of brown. It was not much but it was a start and that was enough to buy her a little hope.

 

[LitShark]

“But of course,” Slythe said kindly, leaping back onto his own horse, “I could use a drink myself, I’m sure that there are many secrets of Pravus’ army that you may divulge to me over a drink.”

Were it not for his intimidating mask Slythe’s men would have seen a smile painted across his pale face. It was somehow reassuring to have Rhonwen riding under his flag. The prodigal return of an escaped sex slave...

Shit! The sex slave!

“On second thought, I’ll take a raincheck on that beer, I have other matters that require my attention currently.” Slythe announced, “Back to the keep! Hyaw!!”

The horse’s hoves clapped loudly against the dirt as he made his way back to the keep in a full gallop, his troops following his lead, except for the one who’s horse Rhonwen had adopted, he chased after on foot, insisting that they had forgotten him, though that was not the case, Slythe simply cared to ignore him instead.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

Vonar again

Vonar began to curse the amount of red headed girls currently within the cities walls. He guessed he had never much noticed before, preferring to look at the lasses of golden hair when he had the free time. Still, none met the description. Too short, too fat, too ugly, the one he was looking for, according to the barkeep, should stick out like a cardinal among crows.

Still, he had her name, and could turn that over to Lord Pravus for some sort of reward. The idea galled him, settling for less them complete victory, it might even get him hung. No, he’d find this little tart and bring her in, willing or not.

There were only four gates leaving the outer city, at the four cardinal points. His friends watched the other three, he was certain. From the outer city, there were only two gates that lead to the wealthier inner city, and guards there were stopping every red hair woman, of any age if she was not known to them – meaning she was not a member of the Lord’s court. . It fueled the panic, which while stupid, suited him for the moment.

Vonar decided to walked the streets himself, putting on the appearance of just another commoner, helping women cross the busier streets, aiding in the loading of fruits onto a cart; anything to be out and observed as part of the normal happenings of a city, while still being able to observe it closely.

But it was dull and boring work, and he nearly went back to watch the tavern out of desperation, until he caught a glimpse of a woman that might fit the description, but she turned down another alley too quickly, in an apparent hurry to get somewhere. He dropped what he was doing to follow, until he got a good look at her face, and decided this was his first real possibility. Before he could approach her to inquire, kindly a name over some bullshit reason he’d make up, she ducked into a clothing shop. He leaned against the wall, waiting for her, smiling at any who passed by as if he were waiting on his bride to hurry up inside.

He almost didn’t catch her exit, as she had changed her cloak and bought a white cap to cover her hair, but such a young, striking face gave it away. He followed from behind for while, never losing sight, but never too close to be caught. After what seemed like an eternity she had still not arrived anywhere, but still her determined pace suited her. This was a girl running, and hiding. This must be the one.

He closed the distance, and came up from behind to walk by her side, never glancing at her directly. He whispers in a low, gruff tone, “Miss Tharalon, please don’t run, but I’d like a word with you in private. I wish you no harm, but if you run those wishes may change….suddenly.” He kept pace beside her waiting a response, be it to agree, calmly, like a sane person, or attempt to flee down a crowded street in broad daylight.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Tharalon

“Miss Tharalon, please don’t run, but I’d like a word with you in private. I wish you no harm, but if you run those wishes may change….suddenly.”

The voice was low and gruff, she wanted to pretend she had not heard it but the speaker kept pace with her step, even if she ignored him her would only repeat himself. It might gain her a few extra steps, but without a safe haven to reach for those steps were worthless. She could run but where? Again, with no place to go, no place to hide, it was pointless to run. If he wanted her he would chase her, she would never be able to get lost in the crowd, people were always too afraid to help anyone – No one wanted to face the wrath of the Lord of the Red Hand.

She did not turn to him; she barely lifted her head, “Miss Tharalon? ... I don’t know any….you must be mistaken.”

He is silent; as they walk, he says nothing. She tilts her head, looking up to his face and she sees clearly that he does not believe her, he is simply waiting for her to accept his invitation. She considers trying to maintain the pretense but knows she will get nothing from him; her only chance lies in convincing him privately, or perhaps escaping when there is no one else around.

She nods her head, “Where?”

 

[One Eyed Jack]

Vonar and the witch

After nearly half a block of walking, she gave in, at least so much as to chat, if not outright admitting her name. The woman, no girl she was so young, walked with him as he pointed to a pub, it was one he knew well, and he tried to know them all. Inside he waved his hand toward the back, and the barmaid, an older lass who knew enough of him to give him the private area without comment, let him in a door, and shut it once the two were through.

He wasted no time, and leaned against the door to keep her from escaping. The window in the back had its shutters locked, and he would easily catch her should she attempt something so foolish. Somehow, he didn’t think he’d have that problem, and he was grateful. The past few days tracking her had left him tired – he certainly was not as young as when he entered this profession.

“My Lord Pravus craves your presence. Word of your…talents has reached his ear. Fear not, he is not worried about a simple guard that you injured, the man has been taken care of, and given his pension. No, my Lord seeks to employ your skills, how I cannot ay, I was instructed only to arrange the meeting.” He spoke as softly and diplomatically as his harsh voice would allow, but could not help the smile from entering the corners of his lips.

“I can take you to the palace immediately, your former employer will be informed of your service to the land. Shall I summon us a coach?” Just then a knock came at the door, and Vonar let the serving girl enter with two mugs of ale, setting them on the table and leaving quietly once more.

He had hard of what had happened to the guard, and was guessing, that any of her ‘talents’ must be used by touch, else he’d likely be long dead on the floor. As such he had no intention of coming into contact with her while she was conscious – which limited his options should she try to resist.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Tharalon

He led her to a nearby tavern, and at first she was slightly hopeful, a private conversation in a public room. That did not sound too bad, an opportunity might reveal itself. There was a chance…

No chance, he led her through the public room and to the door a private dining chamber, she looked around before she entered, wondering if now was the time to run. It was not, there were still too many people around, and her path was already blocked. All she could do was continue onward, into the room.

He kept his distance now, and he kept guard of the door, now that fight or flee were her only options.

“My Lord Pravus craves your presence. Word of your…talents has reached his ear. Fear not, he is not worried about a simple guard that you injured; the man has been taken care of, and given his pension. No, my Lord seeks to employ your skills, how I cannot ay, I was instructed only to arrange the meeting.”

She shakes her head, “I don’t know what happened to the guard, he just screamed and let me go.” It was mostly, almost entirely the truth, she did not know what happened, how or why it happened, but like Pravus, she was certain she was the cause.

“I can take you to the palace immediately; your former employer will be informed of your service to the land. Shall I summon us a coach?”

Just then, a knock came at the door, and Vonar let the serving girl enter with two mugs of ale, setting them on the table and leaving quietly once more.

Tharalon sat down at the table in front of one of the mugs, but she waited for the girl to leave before she spoke again.

“I don’t posses any skills employable by your master. I do not know what happened to the guard, why he screamed, or why he was holding is hand…. I don’t want to go to the Palace.” She shivers, wishing she had n traded her warm grey cloak for the useless one of butternut. “In the city, we hear about things that happen in the Palace. Frightening things.”

“Please, just let me go. I will leave the city, no one will know we spoke, or you could tell anyone who asks you that I did not know anything. It’s not a lie, I don’t know what happened; I really don’t.”

 

[One Eyed Jack]

“My master? Don’t want to? Girl you listen, and listen well. You cannot debate who reigns over this land, Pravus may be just a man, but he is the man that is Lord over us all, your own head included. Your preferences and fears over the palace are not a matter I am willing to debate.”

He took a deep breath to calm himself. He had hoped that she’d be reasonable, hoped he wouldn’t have to bring harm to such a lovely lass.

“I’m sorry for shouting, but really this isn’t up for discussion. Our Lord Pravus has decided that you are a witch, and either you’re the only one, or there is another as well within our city walls. I tend to believe two at the same time is too rare to be likely. So your options are these: come with me, peacefully, willingly, and present yourself, keeping yourself and anyone else from harm in the process, or I will have to take you in by force, and after you, your entire family. Perhaps your neighbors and friends after that. Many might suffer based on the manner in which you arrive, or, many might be spared. Either way, you will be brought to the palace. Those Frightening things await only those that resist.”

Vonar’s icy stare almost dared her to try something. He’ tracked many a man for Lord Pravus in his day, and never come home empty handed; however today was a bit different. Today he was scared that this woman might cripple him, given the chance. If she did attack, his best luck was to be killed instantly. He didn’t have any desire to see his pension as a crippled failure.

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

She set her hands upon the table and looked at them when he is finished speaking. She stared at them, as if in them she could find the answers to all her questions, the solution to her problems but she knows the opposite is true. They were the cause of her problems and can offer her no solutions. She would use them, she would hurt him if she knew how but she does not dare. A failed attempt would only anger him, and shift danger to her family. She cannot allow that.

She folded her hands together and drew herself up. She sat as tall in the chair s she could while she lifted her chin even higher. "I had hoped you would be reasonable but I see you are determined. Call for your carriage, take me to the palace. In the end, it will make not a bit of difference. Not to me, not Lord Pravus and certainly, not to you."

She returns his icy stare with one of her own, it mockery of his, mimicing his own fears as well as attempting to hide hers.

 

[Gothmaster]

Frost stood in front of his mistress, showing no emotions during her rant. Inside he knew he was to be punished. He did not permit himself to feel any fear, though he did not look forward to what she might do to him. Being scared and being wary was two different things. His eyes did not waver from her until she stopped talking. Morgaine looked at him impatiently as she awaited his answer.

Frost regretted how he had told her the bad news. It was not like him to be so careless when dealing with his mistress. The plan was forming in his head how to get the girl back. Either that or his life may be forfeited. Either by Morgaine or Slythe. Frost loved challenge's and if she would approve it would be the challenge of his life, or suicide. Probably the last.

"I did not do anything of the sorts you mentioned. I was to busy being wounded by the poisonous blood of a swordsman i killed but i have the means to get the girl back, if you so wish."

He tilts his head in respect to her before he continues.

"I will head to the lair of the dark lord. I will surrender to his might. He know how you treat failure and it will not be surprising to him if i seek shelter there. You can always find someone to take my place here. Many are willing to fill my boots."

He looks up at Morgaine with a question in his eyes.

"If you so desire i will get the girl back. I know what direction they travelled and i will find my way there. This is my way to show my loyality and repay my failure you you my mistress."

 

[One Eyed Jack]

Vonar, the nice guy

“Mind your tongue girl. If this is how you expect to respond to Lord Pravus, I can almost guarantee you’ll discover that which you fear in the palace. And, if you find me unreasonable, I look forward to what you think of the others who were sent to find you. I believe they would fear your abilities too much to consider talking to you. You’d have simply woken up at the palace, after being clubbed in the head, or drugged. Think on that while we travel.”

He dark, older man got up and poked his head out the door, instructing that a carriage be brought. He then sat back down, and tried to help her.

“Listen up, as you may not find another so willing to give advice. I am not even sure why it is I am so concerned, perhaps it’s that you look so young…” he cleared his throat then resumed. “Lord Pravus has no known subjects that have the gift of magic, the last one to grace the palace died in battle over a year past. He will be eager to have your powers explored, then added to his forces, but he is no fool either. I suggest you try very hard to be very willing to al he requests…else his requests turn into commands that others will help you carry out.” He let his words sink in.

“He can be a reasonable man, and will not like the idea o harming the only witch he has, use this to your benefit and give him no cause to change his mind. We are all tools, weapons, to be skillfully employed to greatest advantage in battle. That is how his mind works, and how you can look forward to the rest of your life. Be smart, and you’ll remain comfortable the rest your days, but incur his wrath, and you’ll be force into the same actions, with much more pain to show for it.”

A knock came to tell him their ride was here, and he led her to the carriage, being so bold as to take her hand to help her up.

 

[LitShark]

Once the collective party reached the mouth of the cave hidden by fog, Slythe dismounted and seemed to hit the ground already in mid stride, barking out orders to no one in particular but still fully expecting them to be followed.

“Bring the slave girl to my quarters, ready a room for Rhonwen and bring her some ale. Move out the night guards and have a lieutenant ready by my chambers for further orders after I’m done with the slut. GO!”

By the time Slythe reached the door by his throne the men who had been relaxing a moment ago, were now flying about in all directions. Slythe would have liked very much to have shared a drink with Rhonwen to catch up with her so to speak. Find the holes in his enemies defenses as well as better understand the weaknesses in his own defense that allowed her to escape him, but he knew that if this new girl wasn’t broken of her will to escape right away, the seeds of mutiny might take root.

Slythe entered his chamber expecting to find Brita’s smiling face greeting him, but he was disappointed by an empty room. Slythe had no time to search for her, he began unstrapping his leather armor once again, in preparation for the new slave girl who he knew would be brought in shortly.

 

[Erotic_Beauty]

She heard Olam slip in, but said nothing, refusing to acknowledge him or take her stern gaze from Frost.

"You should have let the poison win," she muttered and then stood to walk over to her study window.

Staring out it, she took in the vast array of land she inherited, before making her way back to Frost. She ran one finger down his jaw, pausing at his lips and then caressing them with the sharp tip of her fingernail.

"You are no longer the man I thought you to be. You failed miserably and for that you will be punished, but that punishment will not be in vain. We will use it," she told him, her finger moved from his lips to the center of his chest.

"I feel you have grown to comfortable in your position. Perhaps grown lax in your skills."

Her gaze flickered to Olam and she nodded her head.

"I need a way to communicate with him while he sits at the enemies side. I also want him to enter Slythe’s lands protected, the information he gains will be detrimental to us, so enhance his weaponry. Come up with these things before the moon rises on us another day."

Turning back to Frost, her lips lifted in a mocking sneer.

"Now as you mentioned before Slythe knows how I treat those that fail me. So you will not go to him as you are now."

Morgaina left him standing there as she made her way to the door. Opening it she spoke to the guard who waited outside the room. When she returned, the guard followed.

"Take him," she ordered. The guard immediately seized the assassin.

"Frost your punishment for failing me will also be your reward in pleasing me."

She walked to her desk and lifted the black leather flogger with the sharp razor tips and handed them to the guard, saying, "After he converses with Olam, you will administer fifty lashes and no part of his body is to be spared," she hissed and then turned back to him.

"Fail me again and you will pray the poison had killed you. If you betray me," she ran her fingers over his manhood and squeezed firmly the hard balls, that lay hidden in the cloth that covered them, "you will never have to worry about pleasing me again."

Lifting her hand she dismissed them both and then turned to Olam.

"You have work to do. I suggest you get started."

 

[Nibbles_n_Tits]

Tharalon

“He can be a reasonable man, and will not like the idea o harming the only witch he has, use this to your benefit and give him no cause to change his mind. We are all tools, weapons, to be skillfully employed to greatest advantage in battle. That is how his mind works, and how you can look forward to the rest of your life. Be smart, and you’ll remain comfortable the rest your days, but incur his wrath, and you’ll be force into the same actions, with much more pain to show for it.”

Tharalon shrinks from his words; they frightened her simply because they sounded so reasonable.

Do not fight it, be reasonable, and be comfortable. Be a good girl, do as you are told and maybe it will not be too bad… Too bad? What is ‘too bad’? That is the threat that underlines everything – do as your told or else… Refusal to obey resulting in pain then ultimately enforced obedience.

She feels frustration building as she listens to his words.

“I am….” She does not want to admit aloud she is afraid, although she knows it must be obvious. “… concerned. Moreover, I think my concern, under the circumstances is reasonable. I do not want my family to be hurt, I do not want anyone to be hurt… I do not…”

Curses, Tharalon, shut up… soon you will be on your knees begging him to rescue you from the inevitable, he will not, and you will only look like a fool. A bigger fool then already. If you cannot be brave, at least act brave. Show weakness and it will be used against you. Act brave and maybe you will become brave. Grandmother would spit at this man, wishing her spit were venom to burn or poison him. Aunt Chandra would bat her eyes and flutter her hands, hypnotizing him with her helplessness… I will treat the middle path but I will walk it firmly and with determination.

Tharalon finally lifted her chin and pulled back the hood of her cape, with deft fingers, she untied the string that held her new white cap in place over her hair. As she removed the cap, the heavy rope of braided red slipped down her shoulder.

“…I do not even want to hurt you. I will hold you responsible this, but only partially. My steps have led me here, I am largely responsible for my own fate; not that it absolves you completely. Therefore, I will not thank you for your advice, since I believe it was offered as a salve to your conscience. However, if I am mistaken, take comfort; I realize some of it is worth heeding and beeauce of that, I will not hurt you.”

A knock came to tell him their ride was here, and he led her to the carriage, being so bold as to take her hand to help her up.

She moved calmly, to the carriage. Sedately, with her chin high. She maintained the composed a façade despite the panicked desire to run. She imagined she was with a patient, when noting was more important than appearing serene to a worried family. She did not know how long she could maintain the performance but she was determined to give it her best effort and make it last as long as she could.

"See." She said as he handed her up. "I keep my promises."

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Lisheeda follows the dark hall of doom. . .or does she. . .

“She sleeps. . .Witches don’t sleep. . .This one does, aren’t you going to do something? . . Like what? . . Kill her. . .Oh that would be wise, wouldn’t it. Besides being raped I can hang for murder too. You’re such a wise fool. . .Well, it is better than sitting here talking to yourself. . .This is true at least you’d shut up.”

Lisheeda stared at the woman across the room from her. She’d fallen asleep and had made no move in her direction at all. She’d battled herself on whether to make first contact with the woman, but then she’d retreated back, not sure if the witch were a loyal servant to the Lord or merely another pawn as were most of the people that served such as he. So she’d said nothing, to fearful of losing her talent of deaf and dumb to try and find out.

Voices outside the door brought her up short and she turned her gaze to watch it open. A guard scanned the room and she knew whom he sought. She curled herself into a ball, wishing she could melt into the shadows and wilt away with the dirt and grime that filled the walls of the keep. Such was not the case and she saw the man approach her. A scream rolled to her throat, but she swallowed it down, refusing to give into the fear. A tear fell from her eyes as the horrors of what was to happen to her became more real to her than before.

“Our Lord is ready now, slut.”

She reached out, clawing the arm that had wrapped itself around her wrist. He reached up and swung his hand, knocking her head back so it slammed hard against the wall. She felt the blow from both sides of her head and her world spun on a wobbly axis. The bruising and swelling from her capture was still prominent on her tanned features, but now she had more. “Good girl, make yourself so ugly he’ll not want you. Fight them all.”

Lisheeda didn’t answer herself as she was pulled to her feet and dragged across the room. She glanced at the witch, but was quickly distracted as she was thrown into the hall and the door shut behind her. She fell into the chest of another man and felt his beefy arms wrap around her. Cringing she pushed at his chest, and then paused when another grabbed her hair. “There! Feel it. . .Yes!” she mentally cried out for joy as her hand wrapped around the dagger that the man wore on his waist.

Her fingers curled around it and she quickly pulled it from his belt, swept it across his mid-section and then reeled around to sweep it across the first guard’s throat. The speed of her movements had caught her off guard as well as the last man who was not injured. They recovered at the same time and as he made to grab her black robes, she slashed downward, injuring her hand. The screams of the injured forced her to run faster than she had in the forest. She prayed for guidance and then thanked the gods and goddesses when she came across another door, one she quickly opened and then rested against.

The blood from the men blended with her robes and she stared into the surprised face of the old hag. “What have you done?” the old woman asked, her eyes wide with curiosity and not fear.

Lisheeda said nothing, swallowing her fear and then moving to the old hag’s window. She stared down into the rocky cliffs under her and she knew the only way out was to either scale down the outer walls or to return through the tunnels underground.

“He’ll rip out your heart,” the woman chuckled.

Lisheeda ignored her, though inside she prayed that would be all the man did. She stepped onto the window ledge and then looked back, slid the knife between her clenching teeth and then stepped out onto the rocky side of the keep. “By the gods woman! You are a fool!. . I am a desperate one.”

 

[Katamari Roller]

As Brita walked in the snow landscape, a sudden creaking noise echoed like a thunderbolt, almost scaring her off her feet. She woke up with a jolt, and noticed the guards walking towards the slave, largely ignoring her. Brita rubbed her eyes, as she thought about what was about to happen to the poor girl. She felt horrible for not being able to help her. That was just... maybe she was a coward.

A dry, short sound yanked her out of her reverie. Looking towards the guards, it seemed they had hit the slave quite hard. Brita got up and strode over to them, eager to stop such savage violence inflicted upon a defenseless girl, but the door shut right in front of her, almost hitting her nose. The door was one that would lock every time it swung closed. Frowning, and scowling at the guards' savagery, she fumbled for the key. Just as she put it in the lock, a scream electrified her skin, sending a shiver up her spine. Without any time to lose, she pushed the door open...

And it caught on a man's body lying on the floor. Ye Gods! The other guard, right in front of her, fell to his knees, clutching his hand. Dark blood dripped on the floor... and he fell over onto his side. Running over to him, Brita quickly checked his wound. The main arteries hadn't been severed, so he would most assuredly live. As for his muscles and tendons remaining the same, though, she was not so sure.

But there was no time to lose! What if the slave girl attacked someone else? If at least she could reason with her... at the very least, she needed to know what was going to happen. Out of curiousity or fear, Brita didn't quite know.

A door slammed open somewhere up ahead. Brita ran as fast as she could, the fur coat weighing her down. It would be difficult to reach the girl in time before she did anything stupid. Maybe she could intimidate her to stop? Her own appearance was outlandish, so Brita guessed the slave knew she was a magician. Maybe just rising a hand imperiously would convince her to stop, and...

... and not jump out of the window. Like a white lightning, Brita shot off towards the window right as she saw the slave girl put the knife between her teeth.

Brita wished she could speak. Don't do that, silly! The fall will just be worse if you put that knife...!

Her pale hands grasped the slave girl's ankles just as she jumped. Brita was totally unprepared for what came later. Her upper body was almost yanked against the windowsill, and the impact knocked the wind out of her, as well as making her ribs hurt. I bet I've broken a couple!

It was an agonizing pain, but Brita was not going to let go of the girl. Pity she didn't notice she was sliding a bit up. In her attempts to make sure she was holding the slave girl tightly, her feet moved up against the stone wall, and soon, her body would fall over the window's edge. Her breathing became irregular with the taxing effort of keeping Lisheeda off falling.

Brita turned her head to plead for help, even if it was only with her eyes... but all she saw, was the old hag rubbing her hands, grinning very nastily at her...