Lords of Itaea

[RedHairedandFriendly]

The ground swallowed her up, Lisheeda thought as she felt herself tumbling to the forest floor. What was happening? She panicked as the vines from the bushes swept over her and wrapped liked ropes around her wrists and then her ankles. She struggled on her knees, pulling and yanking for freedom, which she did not get. “What is this?” she cried out, turning her head to find Bellatonia frowning with her arms crossed. “What is happening?”

“The man’s a wizard. Another foul magician!”

Lisheeda blanched as her ghostly personality read the man approaching her. “Bella what are we to do? He controls the ground! I’m lost. I’ll never return home. Please help me,” she wailed.

“Shut up girl. He can hear you. He can’t hear me.”

Lisheeda whimpered softly, but took the seconds she had before the stranger reached her to calm herself. She felt Bellatonia enter her again and she sighed at the welcoming weight of her friend, a woman that wouldn’t have existed if it wasn’t for the actions of a cruel dark Lord.

 

[Tseranc]

Olam reached the girl, who was once again talking to herself. The poor thing must be severely traumatized! But he was certain he'd reached her before much harm was done. Scared, bruised, but not yet violated.

His breaths still ragged from his run, and even more tiring magical trap, he knelt down beside the woman who nature had a very firm grasp on. “I am not here to hurt you. Quite the opposite really. For reasons I do not yet fully know, I came to help; to save you from whatever danger you were in. So, I will ask my friends, the plants here, to release you, if you agree not to run away again. We need to return to Mistress Winter, who will decide what to do. She can be as cold as her name, but she's a fair ruler. Of these lands, we are both fortunate to be under her rule, and not that of the others. Will you agree?”

As if to make a good gesture, the grip on the girl loosened, but not enough to let her fully get free. A cornered animal was the most dangerous, he knew, and had to work fast to put her at ease before he could figure out why it was she had such pull on him.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Lisheeda stared blankly at the magician. Bellatonia was gone again, once more leaving her alone to deal with reality. She called out to her, whispering softly and then wailing. Still the woman did not appear. Why? She wondered and glanced nervously around. He said he wasn’t there to hurt her. Trust him. . . she wanted to laugh and cry hysterically, but she did neither. The mention of who he was going to take her too, made her bury her face in her hands and she begged him to release her.

“Please. . .no more. I want to go home. I’ll leave these lands. Not another Lord. Please.”

She wiped her cheeks, pushing the wet tears away and then looking imploringly at the magician. “I can’t take more. Release me please and let me go.”

Lisheeda could see that the man would not do as she pleaded. She closed her eyes and lowered her head to her chest. Her lips trembled as did her body from the fear of the unknown once more being thrust against her. “My name is Lish. . .Bellatonia,” she whispered, when the ghostly image reappeared behind the magician. She smiled and felt a calm wash over her.

“I will agree to come with you, but I will escape again,” she promised and waited for the vines to release her.

 

[Tseranc]

“Dear girl, you may do a great many things yet in your life, but none of them matter until I get you before Mistress Winter and figure out why it is I felt your need of assistance.”

He heard one of the guards coming up through the woods behind him, and told him that he had things under control, but to have the soldiers moved back to camp to be judged by Morgiana.

Returning his attention to the girl, he waved the vines away, and took off his coat, wrapping it around the girls shoulders, and stepping back to let her adjust it as she pleased. “I will hold you to your word...Bellatonia. What happens later is between you and Mistress Winter, but you will come before her peacefully.” With her slip, he knew the name was fake as could be.

“You may call me Olam, and truly know that I shall not allow harm come to you while you are under my care.” He offered his hand to help her stand up, kindness shining in his eyes.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

“Oh he’s a crafty one. Trying to gain your trust he is. Fail not, little one. He’s just another magician, serving an awful Lord or in this case Mistress.”

Lisheeda said nothing as she kept a firm grip on the coat the man, Olam had given her. He walked her back to the group of soldiers. She wanted to run, but the man had spoken to her of honor and she knew she still had that emotion inside her. Even Bellatonia was honorable. Wasn’t she? Lisheeda wondered.

They reached the horses and she was allowed to climb up onto the beast she’d stolen from Lord Slythe. When will he return for her, she wondered or was she finally free of the filth that fell from his mouth and the demands he put on her body. “Olam,” she said as she mounted her own horse, “your Mistress. I have heard of her. I lived in these woods. She will have me slaughtered. I beg of you to let me go, please.”

Lisheeda was even surprised at how clear she’d spoken. She blushed and then glanced nervously at the ghostly image that was frowning back at her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to the trees and then lowered her head again.

“I just wish to go home,” she muttered to Bellatonia who was softly clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

 

[Tseranc]

“Mistress Winter would do no such thing. You listen to rumor of her fed by her enemies to discredit her. She is a hard woman, but only as hard as she must be.” He wondered why that felt almost like lying. She was as hard, and cruel, as she felt she needed to be, but to him, her feelings might as well be law, he was bound to them more tightly.

“I do not believe her capable of it, and I have served her family most of her life.” The way she spoke of his Mistress meant she had never met Morgiana, or didn't remember it. Morgiana was not a woman easily forgotten, so he was betting they had never met. But his statement was true enough, he didn't think Morgiana could kill the girl, at least not with him around; the pull to protect this stranger was just as strong as it was for his Mistress. Would he be capable of standing aside, or following her orders to hurt this new girl? Just thinking of the situation made his head ache in a manner that nearly put him on his knees instantly. He might be destroyed if it came to that!

Getting up on his horse, Olam motioned for the guards to lead them back, the soldiers that had attacked her were bound and pulled along by the guards. It was a slow, and pathetic procession back to Morgiana's camp.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

The group made a slow trek back to camp. Lisheeda’s gaze remained fixed on her hands which held the mane of her mount tightly, but not enough that the horse shied away and lost itself. It followed behind the others as if it were the most natural act for it to commit to. Her thoughts had joined with Bellatonia’s and she’d run several conversations back and forth inside her head, as well as speaking aloud.

The soldiers that had captured her the first time continued to stare at her with a mixture of lust, anger and even fear as she spoke to herself. “Possessed she is,” the smaller of the three whispered. Lisheeda looked up and stared at him with confusion. She then heard Bellatonia laugh and Lisheeda sneered and growled at the men that had attacked her. They swiftly turned away and focused on something other than the crazy woman. Lisheeda laughed and watched them shudder and whisper some more.

“Now you must think of a new way to free yourself. This Mistress. . .just another woman. Another that we can dispel once you have a weapon in hand.”

“They think I’m possessed. Do they not see you?” Lisheeda whispered against her shoulder.

“Do you wish them to? Do you want them to take me away too!? Do you want me to disappear?”

“NO!” Lisheeda screamed and then began to whimper softly. “Bellatonia, don’t leave please. I can’t do this alone.”

The soldiers, the new and the old, stared at her and this time all of the men, with the exception of the magician whispered about demons.

 

[Tseranc]

Once inside camp, Olam told the his escort to watch over the soldiers while he took the girl to see Mistress Winter. Having no fear that the soldiers would escape, he rode as far as he dared to Morgiana’s tent, dismounted, then turned to the girl.

“Bellatonia dear, if you will follow me on foot now, we can see what it is that Mistress Morgiana can do for you.” He offered his outstretched hand to the girl, to aid in her getting off the horse gracefully. “I am sure was can find you some suitable clothes and proper food and drink.”

He helped her down, and led her to the large tent in the center of camp, past the ring of guards, and stopped before entering. “Remain here while I check if she will receive us.”

Ducking inside, he bowed low, and raised his head only enough to look for the powerful woman. “Mistress, I return with an answer, but many more questions. I brought with me a girl, who awaits you just outside. I was drawn to her in her moment of need, at the hands of some of our own soldiers, just as I would be drawn to you, should you ever require aid.”

He never fully stood up, but waited for what surely would be a mixed response.

 

[Erotic_Beauty]

Morgaina turned to face her magician, a frown of displeasure replacing the smile of greeting that she had in place when she heard of his arrival.

“You brought a stranger into the camp? I told you to deal with her, surely you knew what that meant?”

She stormed past him and out of the tent where her eyes immediately sought out the oddity Olam had discovered.

She gazed at a face similar to one she’d not seen in years. Her features paled and then she turned to face Olam once more. “Kill her,” she demanded and then walked past him as if she hadn’t just ordered the girl’s untimely death.

“I want her body disposed of immediately. Fail me and all will pay, the price.”

She knew it too. The features of the girl were staggeringly similar to her dead brother’s and her dead father’s. Did Olam not see it? He’d found her a bastard sibling. Deep in her gut Morgaina had known that someday this would happen. Her father had bedded every slave girl in their lands as well as raping those that had dared be caught on his excursions into other hostile territories.

“Now,” she hissed to one of the soldiers that stood closest to her. He made a move to grab the girl.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Lisheeda screamed as the guard grabbed her arm and jerked her toward him. Her eyes grew wide as they sought out the magician’s and then her gaze flew to the Mistress’s back. “NO! He said you wouldn’t do this!” she screamed and thrashed as she was grabbed around the waist and lifted high in the air. She kicked and clawed, screamed and cried.

“Bella! Bella! Help me!” Her tears fell down her dirty cheeks, now covered in filth that she’d kicked up and rubbed off from the guard who carried her toward the edge of camp. “HELP me! Please, I’ll leave. I’ll go. YOU lied to me!” she bellowed to the magician and then she felt the knock on her head. Once more darkness wrapped its welcoming hand around her and Bellatonia’s whispered words of comfort spread through her unconscious system.

“I’d rather have heard her scream,” one man said as he approached the guard with the unconscious girl. Both of them chuckled and then stared back to see if anyone else would be attending the execution of the stranger. Several however were more concerned with their Mistress’s harsh judgement and wondered what punishment the great Magician would get. Surely he’d fallen out of favor.

 

[Tseranc]

The magician stood shocked for a moment at the harsh, and immediate words from his Mistress. Dumbfounded, he remained still long enough for the girl to be knocked out, but her desperate plea, and accusation of betrayal still echoed deep in his bones.

But another urge pulled, and that was to do Morgiana’s bidding himself. He had been commanded, and that was enough to force his hand; usually.

“STOP!” He clapped his hands together, but the sound was that of deafening thunder. When all halted their actions and looked to the wizard, he threw himself to the ground at Morgiana’s feet. “Mistress, forgive me please, but I cannot let her be harmed any more then I could you. Whatever binds me to you, does so to her as well. If it were a choice, I would do whatever you ask, but please, spare her.”

The conflicting needs of the two woman felt like he was being torn apart, starting with his head. Blood began to run from his nose freely from the strain, and he could not hold his hands still as he pleaded. “Killing her may kill us both. I cannot betray your command, nor fail to protect her….please…”

His words were cut off with a moan of agony, and collapsed fully to the ground.

 

[Erotic_Beauty]

Morgaina’s eyes flew to Olam’s now collapsed form. She’d seen his pain clearly written all over his face and she felt it wash over her. She stared back at the woman who was very much a relative, Olam’s reaction to her was just more proof.

“Take her to my quarters,” she demanded, “and help Olam as well. I want them both cared for and tended together. Until he is well, she will not leave his side.”

Morgaina then turned and headed in the opposite direction of her tent. She needed to think. She had too much on her plate and now a bastard sibling to contend with. The sound of one of her men brought her walk up short and she turned to stare at the man she’d sent out earlier returning. He was bloody and barely alive, but he stumbled into camp with a message from Lord Pravus.

“Tend him as well.”

She opened the missive and read it. Anger filled her at the treatment of her man, but she stowed it with the other emotions she was feeling. She would meet Pravus and work with him, then their treaty would end. She was finished with this Dark Lord and if it meant dealing with a vile speck of a half-wit, then she would.

Another man approached.

“Both the magician and the girl are in your quarters. I have placed them in the care of our physicians. Though I know Olam, himself is the best one we have, it was not possible, under the circumstance. They have orders not to do anything harmful to the woman.”

Morgaina frowned.

“That is all, see to it she is bathed and fed when she wakes up. When Olam is ready to attend me, then escort him to the Captain’s tents, I will speak with him there. That. . .girl, just keep her alive and healthy for the time being. I have much more pressing matters to attend to.”

 

[Tseranc]

“Thank you Mistress….,” was all he managed before letting himself be drug away to her tent. He still felt a pull to defend the unconscious woman, that could not possibly know she was out of danger, but conflict had ended, and the pain was beginning to subside even before the physicians were brought in.

Once they were there, all he needed was rest and to sooth the new girl. Once he could stand, he left and made his way to the captains’ tent, and his escort almost forgot to go with him.

Walking inside, still noticeably fatigued, as if his body feared that the pain could return at any moment. It could.

Bowing as best he could manage, then dropping to his knees before Morgiana. “Mistress, forgive me. I did not know, or think that your father sired others. I can only guess that there is a distance that I can feel the pull of commands and needs of your bloodline. I never thought of this before, as I have seldom been far from you.”

He looked up at her, pleading, “If you require your previous command done, perhaps it can be done far from me. That is the only way I can think to see it done, without you loosing your magician.”

Even giving her that vague option made his head ache, though while severe, no where like before, with the immanent commands and conflicting needs, displayed earlier.

 

[Erotic_Beauty]

Morgaina turned to face her mage. Her gaze was hard and anger was easily read on her face.

“Of course she is a bastard daughter sprouting from my father’s loins. How could you not have seen it the moment you saw her. She looks like my brother as well as the spawn that filled my mother with his seed. Who she is right now though is not the issue. I will deal with that though do not think for a moment the bitch is safe.”

She walked around Olam and growled low.

“I have become soft, haven’t I mage? I have allowed you a place in my heart, which I have never allowed another. I admit this. I have grown weak. You have shown me my weakness.”

She stopped in front of him and studied his face as she built the wall back up around her heart. Her voice rose that all who dared to overhear her conversation knew her anger.

“YOU questioned my orders in front of my men! YOU called a halt to the execution and I listened! Damn you Olam!” she shrieked and lifted her hand to strike him. She stopped and shoved her fingers into her hair, spun around and walked to the opposite side of the tent.

“The girl survived all this time without you. The marks on her body are fresh, so she obviously has been hurt before. You did not feel this pull then or you would have discovered her whereabouts earlier.”

Morgaina turned back to her mage and approached him again. Her voice dropped to a mere whisper as she closed the distance between them.

“If this girl lives, then what do I do with her? She’s a threat to all I have accomplished. She’s a pawn for our enemy. Imagine if she falls into Pravus’s hand, or Lord Slythe’s. What of you? You are attached to her. She is a danger to you as well. Look at what happened. You were close to death. I have never seen that in you before. She needs to be disposed of.”

Morgaina walked out of the tent and found several of her men staring at her.

“You, she demanded. You are to take the girl back to the keep, far from here and carry out the original order. I want her flesh on my wall before I return home. Captain, master Olam will receive thirty lashes for questioning me in front of my men. Carry them out now.”

She took a deep breath and stood her ground as the Captain walked back into his quarters to bring her mage out.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Lisheeda stirred from the cot she’d been laying on. Her gaze was blurry, but she heard people moving around her. She closed her eyes, then opened them again as she stared up at the ceiling above her. It was made of canvas, or some other material, she wasn’t really sure. Her head ached though, as did her jaw. Why though? Had she fallen from her horse? Suddenly she remembered and gasped, rolling herself up into a ball. He’d lied to her. The magician said the woman would not kill her.

“You’re awake, wee one, now roll over and let’s have a look at ya. The Mistress is letting you live.”

Lisheeda slowly turned and opened herself up from her tight curl. She stared at the small man who was staring at her face. “Yes, I see it now. The magician should have too, but he is lost in the heat of the Mistress’s cunt. You are her sibling. Aren’t you?”

Lisheeda frowned. “What do you say? Who do you speak of?”

The old man cackled. “The Mistress. She knows you are her sister. A half-sister and she wanted you dead, but the mage can’t kill you. It would hurt him. We all saw it. So you get to live.”

The sound of the tent’s flap reached the man and Lisheeda. “Hold your tongue old man. She’s to be taken to the keep and her skin hung on the walls, like all of our ladies enemies.”

Lisheeda’s eyes grew wide and she bolted from the bed, screaming like a banshee. The large man who had come in laughed and circled her, dodging at her like she was a simple toy to play with. Lisheeda scooted back and forth on the balls of her feet, as she listened to the ghostly image that hovered on the edge of her mind.

“Little girl. You have a long journey ahead of you. There will be time for you to escape. But you must let me help you. Let me in fully, allow me to use you in a way that this man will find you worth saving.”

Immediately Lisheeda’s face softened and she closed her eyes, reopened them and stared at the two men. “I am done fighting,” she whispered and lifted her hands to offer them to be shackled or tied down. The larger man grinned and elbowed the elder. Lisheeda watched him pull a length of robe from his back pocket and she cringed slightly as she was once more tied to a stranger.

“Smile at him my flower. For you are going to use your body the way Lord Slythe would have wanted you too in the beginning. You will sing for this man. You will tempt him with your feminine charms and in the end. You will win your freedom.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Lisheeda whispered.

The man laughed and pulled his prisoner along. “I know what to do. You’ll suffer, but in the end you’ll reach the other side of heaven. . .several times in fact.” His crude joke was lost on Lisheeda as she stumbled out of the tent and caught the eye of the woman who was having her executed. She looked for the mage and wondered where he was. She wanted to spit at him. To attack him. She’s trusted him with her life and now it was about to be extinguished. “Get her out of here,” the old man muttered. “You saw the mage fall. If he does again the Mistress will blame you.” The larger man nodded and dragged Lisheeda away toward the horses he had readied for the journey back to the keep.

 

[Tseranc]

He listened to her rant, and agreed, despite his conflicting loyalties; which he had no control over. Damn her father and his incomplete orders! To bind him to his heir would have been enough, but his entire bloodline!? Still, he stood and took the hurt that came with her words as best he could, until she left the tent.

Olam was soon drug out of the tent by the captain of the guard, but he offered no resistance. He’d heard, and expected the order his Mistress had given. She had a land to run, and he had made that difficult. He only hoped she would truly forgive him, after this sentence was carried out. He walked as best he could, trying to face his punishment bravely. Not in defiance, but in acceptance to her wisdom. Even under the threat of pain he tried his best to serve her needs.

She had gone softer, and he needed her to get softer still if either of them were to have any salvation. Or joy in this life.

The captain was a man of duty, and was not needlessly cruel, nor kind. He marched Olam to a thick pole that served to display Mistress Winters’ colors, and any message flags. No bindings were needed. Olam simply wrapped his arms around the pole after dropping his cloak and removing his shirt.

The lashes came hard, but again, not with any useless cruelty. At 15, Olam was shouting with each blow. At 23, he was screaming. 30 came and went, and he had lost count, but later realized that the painful cuts stopped, and let himself sink to his knees; still gripping the pole for support.

 

[Erotic_Beauty]

Morgaina watched the girl being taken away and knew that the men would have sport with her before her death. She felt a pang of regret, for she had sentenced her sister to death, but she also knew that the woman was a weakness to Morgaina’s rule and had to be dealt with swiftly and obviously far from Olam. The thought of her mage made her pale and she turned to see him being led to his punishment.

A part of her, a large part, told her to stop the order, to pull Olam to her side and hold him close, but she knew she’d already showed weakness to her people and she could not do that now. She stood her ground as every lash was delivered with expertise and strength. When Olam fell, Morgaina had to physically bite her tongue to keep from crying out. She kept her eyes fixated on a tree branch so the tears she wished to shed were forced to remain tucked away.

“Mistress... Mistress...”

Morgaina took a deep breath and lifted one brow then turned to face the man speaking to her. “The order has been carried out. The healers are coming now.”

“Have him taken to my quarters and I will tend him. There is much I need to know concerning the reason he fell to the woman.”

The man nodded and then went over to Olam. He was untied and carried back to Morgaina’s chambers. She ordered hot water and salve to be brought to her and withing five minutes she was alone with her mage and all she wanted was available to her.

She bent down on her knees and wept softly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and then kissed his cheek before beginning to wash away the blood that had beaded and slid down his back.

 

[Tseranc]

Olam let himself be carried away, and was surprised to find himself brought to Morgiana's tent. He didn't raise the question, he didn't have the energy. He had no idea what to expect, more punishment, certainly, but in what form, he couldn't guess. Deep in his heart he feared most her growing cold to him, after all this time of getting her to embrace at least one other human being.

Her words could not have surprised him more. He was so shocked he forgot to rejoice in their meaning. “No Mistress, I am sorry for having put you in this position.” He couldn't believe that she was tending him personally, and had opened up in such a way as he'd never seen before.

He looked up and swore he saw tears waiting to fall in her eyes. Maybe he had fallen unconscious and was dreaming?

“Mistress, are you alright?” He asked softly, worried that something might still be wrong that he had missed.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

They rode out of the camp. Lisheeda's hands bound to the horn of the saddle. Her ankles bound to the stirrups. The man led the horse and continued to describe to her what he would do to her before they reached the keep's walls. She said nothing, not bothering to beg or plead with him. They paused an hour from the camp and she watched the man dismount and approach her. A knife appeared in his hand and slit her hands free. Her ankles were freed and she was hauled down from the mare's back. “Are you ready wee one?” the man sneered and ground his body against hers.

Lisheeda whimpered, but said nothing instead turning her head in hopes to avoid the kisses he was trying to place on her skin. “Turn to him.” Lisheeda's eyes grew wide. She stared at Bellatonia's image. “Turn to him.” The image's voice seemed to vibrate in the air.

Lisheeda turned her face back to the soldier. “Remember the Dark Lord's men. Open your mouth, let this vile man taste you. “Please no,” Lisheeda whispered, but the opening was there and the man took it. His mouth captured hers and his tongue pushed inside to inspect her dried haven.

“Lean into him and moan.”

She wondered to her friend how she knew to do these things and her friend laughed. “I am a part of something deeper in you. An instinct, something natural that Slythe unearthed. Let me protect you.”

She did as Bellatonia instructed, using her hands and mouth to keep the soldier relaxed. Soon he was disrobed and she was pushed onto her hands and knees. Lisheeda's pulse raced and her body was slick with a new feeling. Her sex tingled and throbbed and Bellatonia urged her to focus on the task at hand... keeping the soldier distracted. Lisheeda whimpered and moaned, wiggled her ass and then squealed when the man drove his cock into her velvet opening.

“Ohh Bella...” Lisheeda moaned and squeezed her vaginal muscles.

“Lishee the knife is just within our grip. See it!”

Lisheeda opened her hooded eyes and glanced at the sterling metal. “Mmm... ohhh...oh my...” she moaned and reached forward with one hand. She stopped as the man who was mounting her from behind drove deeper. She shuddered as she played the whore her Bellatonia told her to play.

“The knife girl!”

Lisheeda's hand reached the blades hilt and she gripped it tight. Immediately Bellatonia disappeared from Lisheeda's subconscious and the girl under the man awoke from her dream like state. She tightened her body, rolled away and brought the blade up at the same time. The sharp point slide hungrily into the soldiers gut. Hot liquid sprayed Lisheeda's face and blanketed her. She refused to release the handle and twisted it while dragging it upward.

The blade was sharp, well formed by a master craftsman. It did the job well and when she saw the look of shock, disbelief, and pain leave the man's face, only then did she pull the weapon free. “Very good, my child.”

Lisheeda pushed her bloody hand through her hair and then brought it to the front of her face. She stared into the crimson and grinned, before running her tongue across the hot liquid. After she cleaned her palm, she laughed long and loud. Bellatonia's laughter mingled with her own.

 

[Erotic_Beauty]

“You hurt,” she whispered to him and pressed him back down so she could wipe the healing cream against his welts and cuts.

“I didn’t want to have that done to you. I hope you know that. I didn’t relish it or take pleasure in it.”

She continued to care for him, biting back the pain in her heart and fighting the tears in her eyes.

“Rest my lo... Olam.”

She said nothing else as she covered the wounds with strips of clean linen and then rose from her kneeling position. A pot of hot water rested on coals and she poured it into a cup, then mixed a powder into its steaming contents.

“You’ll not argue with me. Drink it all and as you know you’ll sleep deep and awake refreshed. Tomorrow is a new day and new dangers will present themselves.”

Morgaina pressed the liquid to his lips and waited to see if he would defy her again or not.

 

[ZuesTheGod]

“Hello brother.”

Mochan greeted his sibling with a raised brow and a smirk on his wide lips. “It seems you’ve let your woman get the best of you... and your little magician... she too has disappeared. But where is she? Has the little nympho you created gone and slit her virginal swell?”

Slythe said nothing, staring at the eyes that were similar to his own, but less scarred. “What? No words? I’ve come to release you of your hold on our world. A world you’re destroying. One that I have decided I will heal, grow, and command.”

His brother rose from his chair and approached. Mochan could see the hate in his eyes, hate that had always been there. No more words passed from Mochan as he pulled a blade from his belt and challenged his brother. There were men watching, some knowing that this day would eventually come, many hungered for it, some feared new leadership, but all knew to interrupt the battle of blood would mean their lives too would be ended.

It was a short fight, one that showed that the Dark Lord had relied too much on his magic and not enough on his hand to hand skills as a warrior. “Dipped your wick too many times?” Mochan hissed as the knife slid easily into his brother’s jugular. “May you dip your wick in all the demons in our Hell.”

Mochan watched the life fade from Slythe’s eyes as his body dropped to the stone floors. He turned to the men that had witnessed his triumph. “You may either side with me or against me. With me and our lands will prosper. We will defeat Morgaina as well as Pravus. We will refuel the land and cleanse the water. Find the little witch and bring her too me. Her magic is still useful to us, unless she too has abandoned my brother in lew of more exciting rewards.”

He then made his way to the chambers that had served his brother. With hands on strong hips, he surveyed all he know lay claim on. It was too easy, he thought to himself and then remembered the little sex slave that had run away. She would be fun to tame, he told himself, but he would do it differently. He would coax her into submission unless she proved worthy of more than plunging in and out of.

 

[Tseranc]

Olam remained confused, but his heart beat wildly in his chest with hope. She shared her soft side again with him here, now, after he'd failed her. He had reached up a hand to sooth her, but she put that back down and continued to administer his bandages.

He thought he heard her stutter something before his name, but shook his head. Anything more then he was receiving was far too much to hope for.

When she brought the cup to him, he knew what it was, and nodded his head that he would comply. “Thank you...,Mistress..,” he managed. He drank the liquid down quickly, and smiled at her. It began working quickly, just as he had designed it to some years ago. His vision faded, and his head slumped down, and soon the mage was snoring in his mistress's tent.

It was a dreamless sleep too, the herbs preventing anything that would stress the mind and body, and sped the bodies efforts of healing faster then normal.

 

[Katamari Roller]

It was the shadow.

It had come out of nowhere. Then, a hand that looked more like a collection of tendrils made out of ink had gently taken her by her hand. It felt cold, and Brita looked up at the tall shadow's face. Two light blue eyes looked back. She could hear its breathing, and it sounded as if she was inside the shadow's throat. Every little bit of air that went through it, she could hear it.

And it was weak.

He guided her through the corridors of the underground, and down into the dungeons. Why? It didn't make sense. As her heavy, massive coat, and her white dress' rim brushed the floor, she noticed noises above. Heavy thumping, like men running. She pulled away from the shadow, but it held onto her.

The shadow protected her, for some reason... so it obviously couldn't want to hurt her now, right? In fact, it didn't hurt her as it drove her on, deeper into the dark, humid dungeons. Its grip on her arm was tenuous. So much that Brita felt like she could break its arm with a hard pull. She still wondered where it was taking her, but the dungeon became darker and darker as they hurried down stairs, and past corridors where the only noise was that of water falling, drop by drop, from the ceilings.

Finally, Brita found herself in front of a wooden door, with a rusted lock. She had no idea how the shadow intended to open it, until she watched it... just... 'flow' into the darkness between the cracks on the door. And then, it swung backwards, opening, revealing a small cave that opened out into the winter of Slythe's lands. The cold winds outside blasted Brita in the face as the door opened, and she was almost blinded before the air flow of the cave returned to normal. She moved out, intrigued. Brita had never imagined that in the deepest part of the dungeons, one could find an escape route like this. The shadow, breathing faster now, retreated into the darkest recess of the cave. Brita stared at it, unsure of what to do, until it waved at her. It gestured at the winter forests out there, clearly indicating that she should leave.

But for what reason?

Brita tightened her coat around her ample breasts. She was not as used to the cold weather outside as she used to be. But she already felt a little bit more comfortable, like she was a bit closer to her home. Brita decided that a quick stroll through the forests wouldn't be too bad...

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Lisheeda hummed quietly to herself as she bathed in a shallow pool of water. The squirrel she’d caught earlier had long ago scampered away and it was that scampering that told Lisheeda the waters were safe to bathe, drink and wallow in. Three things she did with leisure. As she bathed, the words of an old song she would often sing in the village came to her and so she began to whisper the melody, eventually losing herself in the tune that flowed from her voice.

Soon the sun was setting and Lisheeda’s waters cooling by the rising moon and the cooling night air. She pulled herself from the wet rippling liquid and proceeded to climb one of the thickest trees in the forest. There she curled into the trunk and smiled wide as she settled in for the night.

It would take her a few hours to fall asleep as memories of her past days began to flood her. At first she was scared of being in the forest alone, but then Bellatonia reminded her of how she had survived for so long on her own.

In the morning, she told herself as sleep began to finally weigh down on her lids, she would travel deeper into the woods, away from the Dark Lord’s keep, away from the woman that had wanted her dead and the dishonest wizard, away from the hate that seemed to hover on the edge of every step she took. She would return to her village and find her beloved and her family, hide within their walls.

 

[One Eyed Jack]

He awoke somewhat early in the morning, and began getting things ready for his meeting with his rival. He was dressed in the darkest black, all trimmed in gold, and his sword on his hip with a gem embellished scabbard. He ate as eh heard the reports from his advisors and the men he had assigned to watch over certain projects.

Once breakfast was done, he made his way to the area that prisoners were held, He was going to pick one out for a project of his. The warden told him the details as to why each man was locked up, and he chose a young man accused of stealing. Stealing from the army, and living out in the woods – stealing from the army was treason.

He had the lad locked in irons and drug through the fortress to the center court yard where he was thrown down in the center of the large stone circle. Pravus took a seat in an ornate chair that had been brought out for him. “Summon my witch, Tharalon. She should have had a good rest, and be well fed, so as soon as she is ready fro the day bring her immediately out here to me.”

He had a test for the girl, and the young man who coward in the center of the circle who had gathered to watch him, was the perfect victim.