The Amulet of Karog (PM to join)

[BriefcaseRonin]

This thread is fantasy-based, using I world I'm creating. It will start out from one character and, over time, build up into a decent sized party of adventurers. At the moment, of course, it will only be one who is already chosen. Feel free to send me information on your characters but don't expect any play time until a bit later on. This land is basically your standard fantasy world with humans, elves, half-elves, etc, etc. So, it's not as though you need an in depth understanding of the world before you can make the character.

Also, I'm looking for good writers. I don't mean to insult anyone but I'd prefer the people playing were experienced. This means that when you send me your character for approval, I'd like you to also have a sample post, no need to go over the top or anything, though; I just want to see what a regular post for you is.

As for sex, yes, there will be quite a bit of it. Otherwise I would have put this in the other role playing thread.

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The land of Siirin (Seer-In) is a very peaceful place. The landscape is made up of rolling hills with long, silver milk grass and with spots of dense forest. Beautiful red dew-thistle flowers bloom in the summer time and the forests glimmer with the glittering shine of the faerie leaf trees, the white trunks of which seem to glow in the moonlight. It's no wonder that people tell legends that the Fae Queen gave birth to the seeds of the first few trees in the early nights of the First Era.

Of course, Siirin is not all tall grass, great golden plains, and almost mystical forests. In the far north lies the colder region of Tola, which is dominated by the snow and a chill wind. The men of the North, the Tolars, have adapted to and seem to thrive in the winter landscape. And to the west and east are the shorelines, which look out upon the Seas of Illiondil and Talini, the names of the great elven statues that stand in the middle of sea on either side of Siirin.

To the south… the forests slowly grow less numerous and the grass becomes pale and dry. As one traverses, the trees become dark, leafless, and wicked and the lands which were once dominated by the silver milk are now only conquered by ugly patches of blood weed, grass the color of it’s namesake. But mostly this land is black, desolate, and dark. It is the land of the Lich Kings, five great sorcerers who, in their search for a method of eternal life so they could become all the more powerful, damned themselves to never ending unlife.

The Lich Kings, who’s names have long been forgotten, rule this land with an army of beasts and undead soldiers. Each one sitting on their basalt thrones within their own spires made of obsidian and bone. They see the beauty and life of Siirin as well as the other continents, Naolon, the land of the elves, and Gorodin, the mountainous realm of the dwarven lords, and they despise it.

Near the end of the Third Era they sought to bring Siirin down and cover it in darkness and death. Heroes of legend stood alongside great armies of the human kingdoms and fought back, defeating the Lich Kings and crushing their forces. When what was left of the enemy’s army retreated, the people of Siirin built a great gate that cut their land off from everything else in hopes that the undead Sorcerers and their ilk would remain there until the end of days.

It is now the Fifth Era of Siirin and very little of that time is remembered. There are stories of it but many believe that such creatures no longer exist. However, since the late years of the Fourth Era, monsters and horrid beasts have slowly began roaming the countryside, growing in number. There is no explanation for this, however. Monsters have always existed but they were rare, the only reason for their increased number could be mating.

The Fifth Era is not dark though. Evil may lurk in the south and the beasts of the Lich Kings may grow in number in Siirin, but heroes still exist. They travel from kingdom to kingdom in search of riches, glory, and adventure. Young children, unable to stand the dreary life of growing up to be blacksmiths, weaving mistresses, or any number of crafts their parents perform, go on to follow in the footsteps of the great men and women they see, hoping to emulate them and achieve great fame like the Swordmaster, Baarin Malais, or the Sorceress, Eilune Londa.

The Fifth Era is one of danger, but also one of high adventure. And it is where the greatest of stories will be told….

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

Larissa stood on a wooden platform in the middle of the inner courtyard of Castle Karond, home of Count Matthias. Around her were spectators to her execution, many of which were mere citizens and peasants who showed only sadness and sorrow at the sight of the Vixen Thief. To them, the elven larcenist was a heroine. Many of the noblemen who populated the city of Karond were terribly corrupt, and she was one of the few who successfully stood up to them, stealing from them their ill-gotten gains.

The rest were said noblemen, who held only anger and anticipation in their eye. The silver haired elf had dared to insult them! She stole their wealth, she nearly helped turn the citizens against them by providing proof of their methods, and she even bedded their wives! They had not known who the culprit was until a few handmaidens with loose lips revealed how they had witnessed a silver haired elf rob the homes of their masters. It was easy to figure out who the thief was, but not easy to catch her. They needed bait.

Another spectator to Larissa’s end was that bait, Lady Alexandra Delaine who had truly grown to love the Vixen Thief. When it was discovered that she was visited often by the silver haired elf, they used her, forcing her to comply. It was that night that Larissa arrived, and went to bed with the Lady only to find herself surrounded by the Count’s guard. Tears ran down the Lady Delaine’s cheeks then and they streamed down them now as she watched. She had not wanted this for the dashing and beautiful elven woman that came to her in the night, but now there was no way to undo what had been done.

One of the Count’s servants moved forward and walked onto the platform, carrying a rolled up parchment in his hands. He removed the Count’s seal and opened that parchment, turning towards the crowd, “On the twenty first day of the Heron’s Wing, fifty seventh year of the Fifth Era, Larissa, also known as the Vixen Thief, is charged with wanton larceny of the noblemen of the Kingdom of Karond. The penalty for such acts is death. However! The Count Karond himself has ordered that the sentence be changed. It is his wise belief that this rogue, this thief, suffer a greater fate than death. By the Count’s will, the Vixen Thief Larissa will be sentenced to life imprisonment.”

That was a fate that would indeed be terrible, especially for an elf who’s lifespan was far greater than any mortal human’s. The speak continued to unroll the parchment, for there was more to his decree, “The thief will not languish in the Kingdom’s dungeon, however. She will in fact be sentenced to spend the rest of her days within the ruins of the lost kingdom of Unos which was destroyed and occupied in the battle against the beast armies in the Third Era.”

“What is left of Unos is it’s underground dungeon which spans for miles. It is a great labyrinth which is said to be guarded by the most frightening of beasts: The Minotaur. Legends speak of this creature as an amalgam of barbarian man and an untamed animal. It is said to have hooved feet, huge stature, and the head of a bull. No man who has entered this dungeon maze has ever escaped. Whether they died from exhaustion and starvation or from the Minotaur’s great axe is uncertain, but the Vixen Thief will suffer a similar fate.”

Larissa was led away from the castle, chained and manacled, on horseback and surrounded by a group of guards. Whether she was stoically silent or pleading for release, she would have none of it. The Count Karond himself personally came along to watch with his High Sorcerer by his side. He hoped to see if this fabled Minotaur existed or not.

They traveled out several miles and into the forests until they came across what was left of a great, white stone, castle. It was mostly piles of charred ruin and rubble, but there was something that stood out: an entrance. It sat in the middle of the ruins, what was left of a ground floor that must have led down into the dungeons itself.

The guards pulled the silver haired elf from the horse and pushed her towards that entrance. As they stood in front of it, the Captain reached out to open the door. He pulled on the handle but.. it wouldn’t budge. That was when the Count’s Sorcerer and Advisor arrived. Cloaked and hidden, Larissa could not see his face. His hands touched the door, and he whispered several arcane words. There was a click, and then the door slowly moved open.

A stench of decay and dungeon stink hit them and everyone gagged, even the all powerful Magi. This place was old. Very old. And it radiated with an almost palpable dread. The guards did not wish to stay around, and so with a hard push, they shoved the Vixen Thief down the stairs into the labyrinth, tossed in a bag and a knife, and shut the door. Try as she might, it didn’t budge, and she was left in a momentary darkness.

There were torches hanging on the walls, and in an instant they lit up, providing light. When Larissa examined the bag, it was filled with some food and a leather satchel with water within. The knife was dull and rusty, probably good enough to kill rats with but if there was a Minotaur down here, the dagger probably wouldn’t make a scratch.

With nothing left to do but move, Larissa did so, and she heard the roar of the minotaur as it echoed through the dungeon maze....

 

[Pywakit]

Larissa

Larissa glanced back up the stairs to the now-closed door. For a moment, she considered skittering back up to try to unlock it, but she'd heard enough about Unos to know that, without magic, it would be hopeless. She sighed, alone for the first time in weeks. She thought back about her friends, her allies, and her lovers. She realized she'd probably never see any of them again, but not because she'd be living the rest of her life in this foul-smelling dungeon. She had no fears that she'd be out of this place inside of a week, if not a day. Ruins like these had more holes than bubblecheese. It would only be a matter of time before she found a collapsed wall or a burrow that led back to the surface. But once she escaped, she had no illusions. They knew her face in Karond now. Those who were her friends were likely in prison now. Lady Delaine had seemed truely broken up about the turn of events, but she'd get over it soon enough. A single sob tore through Larissa's chest then, at the memories of the still-too-recent betrayal. How long had Lady Delaine planned on turning her over? From the start? Larissa couldn't imagine that, but it was certainly possible.

She took a breath and stifled her sobs as another terrific bellow echoed through the dusty corridors. Time for tears later. Now she had more pressing issues at hand.

Larissa knew very little about the minotaur, and knew that what she'd heard was likely mostly myth and rumor. Best to go with logic. It was dark down here, but the presence of the magical self-lighting torches indiacted to her that the minotaur may need light to see. As she stepped from the room, she extinguished her torch and then concentrated. It relit immediately, sending waves of heat out. Excellent. She extinguished it again and transfered it to her other hand. She could see quite well in the dark, and if that was an advantage over the minotaur, she intended to use it. At the very least, she wouldn't be giving her position away with the light.

In her other hand, she hefted the sad, ragged dagger. Barely more than a fish-skinning knife. It would be hardly sharp enough to cut her own skin, let alone some sort of half-beast monster's hide. Yet the point was still sharp. She spun the dagger on her knuckles and caught it dextrously. As luck had it, it had good weight as well. Might serve well as a surprise opening attack with a well-aimed throw. She certainly had no intention of using the little thing in hand-to-hand combat with a monster.

She took another breath and headed into the maze, taking every left turn she could in the hopes that the old ruin-delver's trick would eventually lead her to an exit. Before it led her to the minotaur's lair, of course...

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

The Minotaur had been stirred from its slumber by the promise of fresh meat. Lumbering through its lair and picking up the large axe that laid across an altar. The Minotaur didn’t starve considering the amount of foolish adventurers who hoped to plunder the place in hopes of finding treasure. And if human meat wasn’t easy to get a hold of, then the animals in the forest sufficed. As he left his lair, he smelled the air, catching the scent of his prey: a female. An eleven female to be exact.

Setting off, the Minotaur lumbered through the maze, chasing after her. Unknown to the foolish elf girl, he didn’t need to be able to see her. His nose was strong enough and it wasn’t hard to catch her scent. The elves had a fragrant aroma to them and with that to guide him, it wouldn’t take long to reach her.

For Larissa, there were holes in the maze, but none that could reach outside. Unos was a city of magic, and its rubble was the cause of war and battle, not age. Even simple magic could protect a building from falling apart due to the ravages of time. It was doubtful she would find any means of escape other than the exit. However, that most likely meant crossing paths with the Minotaur. Before the silver haired elf could even finish a planning a course of action should such an event arise, the wall in front of her burst open and a huge form moved through it.

“Your smell is a beacon in the darkness, elf. It’s a shame you won’t be learning from your mistake,” The voice was feral, strong, and commanding. As the dust cleared and the form was visible, it was obvious that the body matched its speech. What stood before her was an awesome creature, the sort of foul offspring that would be born from an inhuman union between bull and maiden.

This creature had no feet, but strong hooves, which kept it standing. Its legs were covered in a thick fur that led up to its hips, which were covered by a loincloth barely able to fit upon the body. Its chest was strong, rippled and muscular showing how much power this monster could unleash. And atop that chest was its head; as the myths said, there was nothing remotely human there, for the head of the Minotaur was that of a bull. Its long pink tongue ran over those lips before it showed its teeth, “You will provide the entertainment I desire. It has been many years since a female entered these dungeons.”

The knife provided no protection, whether it was throne or used up close was irrelevant. His rough hide could not be penetrated. In a flash the beast was upon her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him. The handle of his axe met her head, and her consciousness faded as he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her to his lair…


The Vixen Thief awoke from her dreams many hours later splayed across the altar where a hole in the ceiling provided a beam of sunlight to pour down across her. As she sat up, she felt the chill air run across her flesh and knew that her armor was gone and the elf’s nearly naked form was revealed to the lair of the bull beast. Her hair was tied into a braid and her most private of regions were barely covered by the silky undergarments of some sort of exotic concubine.
There was a rumble of approval from the corner, and when her elven eyes turned to find the source, it was indeed the Minotaur. He strode purposefully towards her, his axe resting in that corner. He did not need it, as his hands were busy untying the straps of his loincloth. The piece of leather fell to the ground and his manhood was revealed. It was of an incredible size, much larger than a man though luckily it was not quite so large as to match the other beast it seemed to share a heritage with. The length pulsed and throbbed, it’s thick veins visible, “It may appear intimidating now, but I assure you, you will come to enjoy it in the years to come.”

Pulling her frail form into his arms, he tore the elven undergarments from her young, nubile, and his hands explored her. Whether she fought it or not was irrelevant, this monster would touch her as he wished. One of those rough, dark-skinned, hands clasped around her bare, pale, breast and massaged the smooth, creamy, skin. His thumb run over the slightly darker nub of flesh, stimulating it until it achieved its maximum stiffness. The other hand rested upon that mound, delicious in it’s delicate beauty, and as he rubbed it, playing with the folds until they gave up their nectars, causing it to glisten like the trunk of a faerie leaf tree.

“Mmm.. does this elf taste as delicious as she looks?” His strong arms lifted her up and set her back on the altar, laying her back and spreading her legs even as his monstrous head slid between them. His long, bullish tongue began the process of licking at those elven petals, causing them to release more nectar. Soon, she would be ready, and he would take her completely.

 

[Pywakit]

Larissa

Larissa could still barely comprehend how quickly the minotaur had captured her. She'd tried to get it in one of the eyes with her ridiculous little dagger but in her panic had missed. She could see the tiny little cut in the lobe of its left ear where the dagger's blade had slid, yet there was no blood even. She hadn't even penetrated the thick skin of his earlobe, and for some reason that simple fact stole the will to fight from her bones more than anything else.

She lay limp for the minotaur, figuring that any attempt to resist would only anger the creature. It was bluntly obvious to her that the lustful creature meant to bed her, and she knew if she fought it she'd only end up hurt. If she could just stay calm, let it do its business... perhaps as it slept, she might be able to shimmy up to that hole in the ceiling. The one through which the sunlight fell. It looked narrow, but she was an elf and she'd fit throguh smaller holes before.

Finally, as the minotaur presented itself before her, she knew the time had come. His meat was massive, much larger than even the northern men she'd bedded on that caper with the jade eagle several months ago. Yet not too big, she estimated. As the minotaur began to explore her body, feeling her, slobbering over her sex, she actually began to feel aroused. There was something incredibly errotic about the massive monster taking such gentle measures with her body. Hands that could crush bone, jaws that could open skulls, worked so tenderly and almost delicately to mine her sex. She only hoped when it came time to take him into her, the creature's growing lusts wouldn't drive it into a frenzy. To accomodate it as much as she could, she spread her legs more, inviting entry.

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

The Minotaur

His tongue continued it's rushed exploration of her sex, which he would have gladly continued. The creatures had an exotic taste to them, a very pleasing, warm flavor like honey. When the elf invited him to take her, how could he refuse? It was rare when a woman was willing to take pleasure from a beast, but when it happened he would not let the opportunity be wasted.

Positioning himself, the monster pressed the head of his rather large equipment against her. He took a moment, rubbing the tip of his length across her so that it might be coated in her honey. With that out of the way, he pushed himself deep inside her, stretching her small elven entrance to it's limits. There was very little of the gentle touch he had shown when he worked to bring her to a state of readiness; like an animal, he began taking her, panting and groaning as his long, thick, manhood thrust in and out.

The bedding between elf and minotaur was long, sweaty, and hard. His rough hands holding on to her curvaceous hips as he continued to thrust in and out of her at a strong pace. He started slowly, testing how much she could take of him which was quite a bit. Then, he picked up speed, his hips colliding with her's, and his sweaty sack, which felt like a leather coin purse, slapped against her rear, everytime he filled her canal with his throbbing, pulsating, meat.

The minotaur looked down at her, eyes full of lust and hunger that almost seemed to glow. His face leaned in, the tongue licking across her face even as one of his hands released it's grip on her creamy thigh, it's fingers tracing across as it traveled. It finally rested upon her bosom, pawing at one of those globes of delicate, firm, softness. His head rested beside her's, his breath growing heavy and ragged as their rutting continued, "I know you enjoy this, elven harlot. Soon, I will claim your other entrances for my own."

Those hips worked in an almost mechanic precision, moving in circles as they pulled his length from her and then returned it back into her tight depths. His hands roughly squeezed and rubbed her flesh, taking in the feeling of her silky smoothness. Elves were so rare, it was hard for a man, monster or not, to not relish the union and milk it for all it was worth. And, whether the silver-haired thief would admit it or not, his huge bull-like shaft filled her in exquisitely pleasing ways.

 

[Pywakit]

Larissa

The shock of her situation was wearing off. Larissa knew that to fight the creature would only bring pain, but realized also that she was taking his girth with soemwhat shocking ease. She'd certainly never had anything this large inside of her before, and while there was certainly a small element of pain, that had quickly given way to pleasure as she felt her body relaxing to accomidate his length. A dirty, sneaky part of her wondered if she could take even more, but she resolved to explore that at a time where she was more in control. For now, the pistoning of the minotaur's huge cock inside her was increasingly becoming all she could feel.

When the minotarur spoke, called her a harlot, she was even more shocked to find the words aroused her all the more. She'd stabbed thugs on the street for less, but now, with this monster's meat pumping into her, it felt so right. She decided to try to answer, to see how that would affect the creature.

"Oh... I'm more than a harlot, you monster. When I heard about you, about your size, I arranged to be thrown in here. I came to you, creature, to see if you could satisfy me. If you think you have the energy to clame all of my entrances... I welcome the challenge!"

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

The Minotaur laughed at the challenge, his chest rising and falling as he bellowed heartily, “As you wish, elf, I just hope you aren’t broken in the process,” His thrusts picked up speed, and he continued to spear his fleshy rod into her young sex, one hand running down to play with that nub of flesh as it was revealed, “Yes, that’s it. Lay back and enjoy, elf.”

The sex seemed incredibly long, and the Minotaur was more than powerful enough to make good on his promises. He filled her insides with his seed, coating her thighs and the surrounding flesh as it poured from her. She could hardly hold all of it within her, especially with him inside. When that was done, he pulled himself from her, and sat down upon an old stone throne as he forced her to lick him clean, and then take him within her mouth. His bull flesh was meaty and flavored by his heady scent and sweat.

One large hand rested on her silver head as he guided her mouth up and down on the shaft, soft rumbles escaping his throat as signs of his pleasure. When his bliss reached it’s peak, he filled her mouth with his seed, forcing her to devour almost every drop as it poured into her. He forced her to do this several times until her hungry stomach was fed full of his pearly white liquid.

Her small elven rear would have been impossible to enter, but he began to try. If he had succeeded, she would have been torn apart. However, the lusty encounter was cut short as an arrow whistled through the air and caught the Minotaur right in the temple. The beast rose up with a roar of pain, yanking the arrow out only to find that several more were sticking in his chest and shoulders.

From one of the dark corners crouched a form shrouded in a black cloak and dark leather armor. There was a bow held in one hand with another arrow in the other, the form was making ready to aim and fire again until the Minotaur charged towards it. With a gracefully athletic leap, it dodged, landed, aimed and fired. This arrow seemed especially sharp and wicked, and the great beast had mere seconds to reflect on its existence before it was ended.

The cloaked figure moved to the body, pulling arrows out and keeping the ones that were still useable. It turned to the silver-haired elf who lay on the floor covered in a Minotaur’s seed and then moved to her. From within the shrouded hood a voice came, asking, “Are you all right? I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here in time… I…” The figure froze and reached out, touching her left shoulder and looking at the raven. It was obviously a male voice, someone young but obviously experienced.

Helping her to her feet and sitting her down, he held out a potion to her and asked her to drink it. When she did, the bull’s seed immediately vanished, leaving her feel a little cold and empty inside for a moment. After unpacking his bag, he held out to her a loaf of bread and some cheese, “I’m glad I found you.. I was beginning to think I was truly alone.”

One gloved hand rose up and pulled the hood back, revealing a young looking human man. He smiled a bit, gathering up her things and placing them beside her, “My name is Matthias. And you’re the so called ‘Vixen Thief’, yes? I’m sorry I wasn’t about to reach you before that thing had its way with you, but at least you aren’t too badly hurt. I’ve been looking for others since the Guild was destroyed.”

Unfastening part of his armor and moving his cape back, he revealed his left shoulder to her, and the raven tattoo that was identical, “I was on a mission from the Guild Master when it happened, I came back to find nothing. I tried to find out what had happened but there was nothing, no one had any explanation. But I did find out that one of the guild survived, a silver-haired elf. It wasn’t much to go on, and I suppose I’ve been chasing you down ever since you left.

For a human, he was attractive and seemed to radiate with a calm, friendly, and trustworthy demeanor. And the entire time he spoke with her, he never once took a moment to look over her angelic elven body. That sort of chivalrous attitude was a rarity among men as there were plenty who would give up anything for one night with an elf.

When she was dressed, fed, and cleaned up, Matthias grinned and pulled his hood back over his head, “You ready to get going? I doubt you want to stay around this place. The closest place is a small town several miles from here called Dungate, and then the Merchant City lies a couple days away from there. Want to get going that way? Or would you prefer somewhere else?”

 

[Pywakit]

Larissa

Larissa realized she was in shock. After the seventh time the minotaur had emptied his balls into her throat, she had slipped into a strange state of detachment. She had realized he was moving to take her ass, and knew that would probably end poorly for her, but when he'd suddenly turned away from her it took several moments to realize what had happened.

The potion did a little to clear her head, but not much. She dressed slowly, almost mechanically, until the armor they'd graciously allowed her to keep before throwing her into the dungeon was all back in place.

And then her rescuer mentioned the guild. As her glazed eyes focused on the raven tattoo on his shoulder, memories flooded back.

"You... you're from the guild? But I don't recognize you... who are you? What did you do for us, that I never saw you in the safehouses or on assignment?" She bit her lip, forcing herself to stop her questioning, at least for now. "I'm sorry... I... thank you for saving me from... from that thing. I wasn't sure... ummm..." Tears were threatening to well up in her eyes now, the combination of humiliation and terror finally hitting home. Yet she cut them off before they manifested much beyond a glistening of her large, expressive eyes.

"I think I'd like to get out of here immediately. I've heard of Dungate... it sounds good. Far enough away that no one'll recognize me..." She stood, but her legs trembled and she fell against Mathias. Anger joined the feelings of humiliation and terror; she'd always been able to handle herself, and to appear so vulnerable and weak before a human was really rather unsettling.

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

Matthias

The human was rather suprised when she fell against him, but he didn't stop her. The weight of her attack and ravaging must have only now just hit her, and he did his best to comfort her. However, he wasn't foolish enough to do anything like brush her hair or tell her that everything would be all right. Elves, from what he had read, were terribly proud and to be seen as weak by a human was considered an self imposed insult.After a moment, Matthias helped her stand up straight and smiled, "You may want to watch your step next time. These ruins have seen better days and the floor is rather uneven."

"Come on, we need to get out of here. We've already made too much noise and, well, there are other creatures that lurk the labyrinth besides that Minotaur," Hopping onto the altar, he pulled Larissa up as well. Then, holding out his hand, he gave her a boost so she could climb out of the hole in the roof. The rogue followed behind her, pushing himself up and then helping her to her feet as he headed through the forested area, "As for the guild, I was away on a personal matter. You see, my mother was sick and I needed to stay by her side. That meant leaving temporarily until she was better."

"Ah, here we are," As they stepped into a clearing there were two horses waiting for them. One was a dark shade of black, almost the color of an empty night sky. The other horse was a dark auburn brown with a lovely mane of slightly lighter brown. Matthias climbed onto the black horse and waited for Larissa to climb onto the other horse before he turned and began riding down a small path.

"Well, we should reach Dungate by tommorow, however, the sun is coming down and we will have to camp sooner or later. Shadowmare has been good to me and I'd hate to push her any harder then necessary."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Much of their ride was quiet. Larissa didn't seem talkative and Matthias couldn't find the initiative to ask her anything. If she wanted to talk to him then she could, but she was probably trying to cope with her experiences in the Minotaur's labyrinth. Matthias cursed himself for that, he didn't reach her in time to protect her from that beast. What shocked him most was not the sight of the monster as he took her, but the fact that the creature even did it! He had heard nothing of any monsters attempting to bed women before. Did it have something to do with her being an elf?

The sun was barely visible as the last of it's light lowered down to hide and allow night's darkness to rule. With a soft whisper, Shadowmare slowed to a halt and Larissa's horse did the same. Hopping off, Matthias led them through the forest and off of the road until he found area he felt was safe.

Tying the horses' to a nearby tree, he then began preparing a camp. That meant laying out beds, finding some spare rations for them to eat, and making a fire. However, he was used to being out in the woods and it didn't take him long. Pulling some logs he found out to the fire, he used them as seats. With a stick, he held a peice of meat out over the fire, letting it get warm. He smiled in a friendly and joking way to Larissa before speaking, "I.. hope you won't be this quiet all the time."

 

[Pywakit]

Larissa

Larissa was lost in the fire; watching its fingers dance and flicker soothed her mind and helped let her forget what she'd just been through. The potion Matthias had given her may have neutralized the physical dangers the minotaur's seed posed her, and had even sped along the healing process. Physically, she already felt completely recovered from the ordeal. Yet the potion had done nothing to the memories. She felt dirty, used, and worst of all, somehow terribly less than she'd been before she'd fallen into the pit. She expected to feel anger for being thrown in there in the first place, but all she felt was depressed.

It was a moment before she realized Matthias had spoken to her. She started, pulled a strand of hair from her eyes back over behind a shapely pointed ear, and said, "I'm sorry... what was that?"

He repeated his question, and she forced a small smile.

"I... I really don't know what to say. I suppose thank you is a good start. I guess I already said that, but it bears repeating. I'm... I don't want to think about what would have happened if..." She shuddered, despite the proximity of the fire.

"Fuck that," she said. "It's over. No need to dwell on that. So tell me about Dungate. What's it like? Are there elves there? I suppose not; I guess I'll either have to stick to the shadows or get ready to be ogled by everyone, right?"

The smell of the meat cooking had actually started to smell good. She reached out and took a piece, delicately eating it in tiny bites.

"Mmmmm... this is actually pretty good. A little bland. Could use some spice. But good enough for camp food."

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

Matthias nodded a bit, smiling and grabbing a bit of meat off to eat it. He was glad that she was talking, otherwise he would have started to worry about her. Chewing on a piece of meat, he put another bit on and began to cook it over the fire, “Well, Dungate isn’t anything special. It’s just a small town not too far from here. As for elves.. I seriously doubt it. There are so few left in this land, and most of them stay in the big cities. I’d suggest wearing your hood over your head when we get there. We’ll probably see some elves in the Merchant City, I know that a few… What was that?”

They heard it before they saw it. The large thumping sounds as something lumbered through the forest toward their camp. Whatever it was, it was big. Really big. Matthias moved back from the fire and picked up his bow and arrow, aiming it into the darkness as he waited for the beast to show itself. The shape moved closer, and as it did, it was illuminated by the light of their campfire. Such a thing was unbelievable, and Matthias had never seen such a fearsome monster before in all his life.

What towered about about eight and a half feet tall looked like some amalgam between a bear and an owl. It’s head was that of an owl and it’s body a bear though it’s fur was patched with fears and it’s claws were razor sharp like those of such a bird. It looked at both of them with silent eyes before turning to Larissa, moving towards her. Matthias wasn’t about to let it get it’s hands on her, and fired an air into it’s arm.

The Owlbear, a suitable term for this strange creature, hardly noticed the arrow as it stabbed into it’s shoulder. It turned toward Matthias and with a swing of it’s arm, throwing him onto his back and leaving him unconscious. The other arm swung as well, connecting with Larissa and knocking her out cold.


When Larissa came to, she was not in the forest at the campsite. The cold, wet, and damp surrounding could only be a cave, which was barely illuminated by the light of the morning sun as it entered into that cavern. Her armor lay strewn about her in scraps, as though it had been torn apart by fearsome claws. There were even some light scratches on her where the thing that removed her armor had grazed her. With a bit more searching, she found Matthias on the floor in a corner of the cave, looking bruised, battered, and out of commission.

Other than that, the cave seemed relatively empty with the naked elf and the unconscious human as it’s sole guests. There was a familiar thump, then another, and another, and Larissa knew for certain that the cave’s owner had returned. Indeed, before she could react, the Owlbear had entered the cave and was looking down on her with excited eyes, glad that she was awake.

It stood infront of her, a sort of strange growl erupting from it’s throat. Reaching down, it pulled her up to her knees. There, near the creature’s pelvis was an odd thatch of brown feathers. They moved slowly, and as the elf watched they spread out like a blossoming flower bud. However, there was no stamen that came forth, it was an impressively sized phallus, a dark red color with bluish veins throbbing. Like the Minotaur, it was obvious what was going to occur next. However, something happened just before then.

The feathers on the Owlbear’s hips shook for a moment, curling up at a snail’s pace and then unfurling again. A strange sort of dusty, glittery, smoke came forth and engulfed the silver-haired elf who almost instantly began to feel the stirrings of arousal. The lips of her elven pussy grew wet, and her nipples grew stiff. And those feathers continued this, apparently gathering up some sort of pheromone within them to release upon her, again and again she was hit with it, and her sex was dripping wet, needing stimulation.

The Owlbear took her head in it’s hands, guiding it to it’s waiting cock. Pressing her soft, silky, lips against the head, it waited for her to do what it was demanding. Could she control the desires forced upon her, or would she succumb and service this beast?

 

[Pywakit]

Larissa

Still woozy from being knocked senseless, Larissa watched the owlbear approach her with a sense of detachment. She'd heard of these creatuers before... but she'd heard they were little more than beasts. The owlbear was certainly not acting like a beast now, though... at least, not like an animal. And when it stood above her and its immense erection slid into view, she had a few seconds to realize exactly what it wanted from her.

She staggered away in fear, but then as its feathers shook, a strange sensation quickly grew inside her. The damp, moist stink of the cave suddenly grew comforting, almost enjoyable. She still saw the beast standing over her, but her attentions were now focused on its impressive cock. As she felt her heart begin beating rapidly, her breaths come more quickly, she felt an undeniable stirring between her legs.

By the time it pressed the salty tip of its dick to her face, Larissa had succumbed completely to its pheremones. She knew she wanted that immense, turgid cock as deep as it would go, but retained enough common sense to know something that massive needed a lot of lubrication. Her mouth fell open and she took the length inside.

She wasn't sure if it was the pheremones working or the actual flavor of the cockmeat in her mouth, but at this point Larissa didn't care. She took that delicious dick into her throat, gagging on it, slobbering wetly along its shaft. Each time she pulled back, she spit what saliva had gathered in her mouth onto the bobbing red length, using her soon-dripping fingers to coat the shaft in slobber to the root. Her tongue worked the tender flesh aroundt he beast's head, furrowing against the pulsing hole from which she knew its seed would soon be spurting.

It wasn't much longer before the smell, the taste, and the urges in her body grew too potent. She whirled around and pressed her face into the damp soil floor of the cave, gripping several roots hanging from the wall nearby and drawing her knees up under her. She lifted her ass high in the air and spread her legs, presenting her dripping swollen slit to the creature, hoping it would realize what she was offering to it.

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

The Owlbear made several strange noises as the elf suckled upon it's massive cock. That silky tongue made the creature murr in delight as it ran up and down along the length of it's meat. That mouth, with those delicious little lips, and that expert way she sucked, almost caused the beast to gift her with it's third load while she was bathing it with her own saliva. It stroked her hair and cheeks gently with it's talons, not daring to hurt this little creature that was giving it such delightful sensations.

However, she stopped, and the Owlbear grew angry until it realized what she was doing. As that elf raised her hips upward to reveal the swollen lips of her dripping wet sex, the beast knew exactly what she wanted. This slim, beautiful, creature was aching for more and she was practically begging to be mated. How could the Owlbear not satisfy the lustful urges of it's new mate?

The monster lowered itself down behind her, it's talons resting gently upon the creamy flesh of those hips. It relentlessly began to stab it's burning hot inhuman dick at her, too blind with lust to aim properly. One thrust had threatened to take her rear but it pulled back before attempting anything. The next thrust, however, hit it's mark, and the throbbing cock flesh pushed between the lips of that sex, slowly travelling deeper into her canal.

With a bit more work, the Owlbear's shaft filled her completely, filled her deliciously, and filled her in a way no human or elf man could hope to. That hot pussy, that hungrily gripped the creature's cock, was now the Owlbear's. Larissa was now it's mate, and with a firmer grip on her hips, it began to take her like one. It's body moved back and forth, their hips joining again and again to shove that turgid flesh as deep as possible into her.

The beast leaned over her, it's hot breath flowing across her slender neck and shoulders as it pumped it's engorged monster sausage into her dripping elven cunt. Above their joining of elven female and owlbear male, the feathers that surrounded it's scepter were tickling at her rear, toying with it. Further ahead, one of it's hands moved away to take one of her breasts, squeezing and kneading it as it tilted Larissa's head. The owlbear looked down at her, and from between it's beak, a long, thick, and pink tongue slithered out to lick at her lips.

With a lusty kiss between them, the creature let go and reached it's own climax. It's hot seed fired deep into her womb, filling her with pearly white owlbear cum to the point of over flooding. The seed dripped from her sex, and it's delicious warmth only added to the pleasure. However, the creature continued to shoot it's load. With a grunt, it pulled out and rolled her over, it's thick, gooey, juices splattering across her chest, stomach, and cheek.

Moving closer to her face, the feathers sprinkled her again, making sure she was willing. It groaned as she licked it's cock clean of seed, and then rolled her onto her back, spread her legs, and with a lustful howl, it thust itself into her again. The creature was insatiable as it pounded into her, taking her again. As the sun fell in the sky, the forest was filled with the sound of Larissa's moans as the creature mated with her again, and again, and again.

 

[Pywakit]

Larissa

The feeling of being covered in owlbear come was as shocking as it was enticing to Larissa. The smell of the thick stuff mixed incredibly with the smell of the beast's pheremones, driving the elf even further into heat. She came soon thereafter, but the monster didn't stop. It's cock remained hard and remained inside her, thrustign away. Now and then it would pull out to adjust her position, often while still spurting. Larissa's sense of time was lost; she was dimly aware that the sunlight filtering in from the cave entrance was failing, but didn't care. She was driping now, with owlbear seed, her own juices, and sweat.

Suddenly, she felt the beast jerk against her. It's endless thrusts paused, and then a tremendous amount of seed filled her, running from its cock in a torrent as it slipped from her. She looked up at the creature, saw its eyes rolling back in its head, and as it fell away to the ground, she saw Matthias standing in its place. His sword dripped with the owlbear's blood, and he appeared to be a bit woozy and wobbly on his feet, but he was very much alive.

Larissa felt somewhere deep inside her a terrible shame at having been discovered with the beast as she had, but that shame was nearly instantaneously overwhelmed by her near-blinding need to come. Weekly, she reached out toward Matthias, beckoning him to come to her. Her voice, small and shaky, spoke of its own accord.

"...please... fuck me... fuck me..."

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

Matthias was alive, but not by much. Moving closer, he helped Larissa up and slung one of her arms over his shoulder. She was practically begging for him to take her, and even though any man would be a fool to pass up the offer, he knew these were not her words. That creature had somehow driven her to levels of desire and lust that she had not reached, and her hunger for intimacy was causing her to think irrationally. All he could hope was that it wore off soon.

There was still light, and he was able to find a small pond near their original campsite. The human practically had to fight her as he did his best to clean her off. She was still delirious from pleasure and lust, but luckily that owlbear wouldn’t beget any offspring. That potion was strong, and it’s after effects caused what seed that entered her to become instantly impotent for at least several days. Knowing that fact made it even harder for him to ignore her pleas for sex.

When she was clean, he brought her back to the campsite, and nearly wretched at the strong smell of death in the area. The horses were still there… more or less. It seemed the owlbear had, after knocking them out and taking them to it’s lair, had decided to devour the horses. All that was left was the saddles, blood, and bones. That did not make it any easier, because now they were on foot in a forest that more than likely housed all manner of despicable creatures who might want to get their hands on the silver-haired elf, especially when she was in this predicament.

Covering his nose and mouth, he searched through the saddle bags and got what they needed. Extra clothes, enough rations to make it till they reached Dungate, and what coin he had left. Also, he grabbed the small vials of potion he had, wondering if any of them might be able to alleviate whatever spell she had been put under by the beast. However, all he had was a sleeping potion, which he hoped might help. Forcing her to drink it was difficult, but a few short moments after it was consumed, she drifted off to sleep.

With the sleeping, and now clothed, Larissa close to him, he hefted her up and did his best to carry her as he walked down the road towards Dungate. It would take a day or two to make it there, and sooner or later, he would have to set camp again.

 

[Pywakit]

Larissa

When she woke some time later, Larissa just barely managed to stifle a scream. She was sure that was the owlbear looming over her, but a few seconds later, after she blinked the sleep from her eyes and the night came alive to her elven vision, she saw it was nothing more than a large gnarled stump looming over the campsite Matthias had set up for them. She looked over at the man, a person she barely knew yet who had now, by all accounts, saved her twice from rapacious, lustful monsters. Yet he had not made a single move toward her. She couldn't help but wonder why. Was he a celibate? Did he prefer men? Or perhaps he was actually one of the rarest of the rare, a truely chivalrous soul.

Larissa settled back down and rolled onto her side. Her body shuddered, but not from the cold. The owlbear's pheremones were still working in her; they'd mostly worn off, but she still felt an urgent tingling between her legs. Her eyes locked on Matthias' sleeping form, one hand slid down under her blanket, under her new clothes, to test her sex. She touched herself softly at first, running fingers back and forth acros her slit, sawing them between her lips. She imagined what it would be like to crawl over to Matthias, to pull aside his blanket and undo his trousers, to suck him into attention and then to straddle him... her finger slid up inside her and she closed her eyes for a moment, moaning a little more loudly than she intended. The sound of Matthias waking was soft, but her keen, pointed ears picked it up. She froze, doing her best to feign sleep, for some reason horribly embarassed at having been caught touching herself by the man who had already seen her in much greater displays of wanton sexuality.

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

Matthias slowly came to, shifting on his bed and, at the sight of an almost imperceptable movement, looked to Larissa. He smiled a bit, seeing that she was still sleeping peacefully. However, he could smell the sex in the air, and was rather worried that the owlbear's magics had not completely worn off. When he saved her, she didn't care. She hardly noticed the owlbear's passing from the world of the living; in fact, all she cared about was being bedded. That elf was practically begging for him to take her in ways that most men only dream of doing.

He hadn't touched her, he couldn't. Most men would have untied thier breeches and gotten down to business, but he knew better. When it was over, and whatever spell she was under faded, she would never look at him the same. The elf would think he had taken advantage of her, and was a pig like every other human man. To be honest, she might think of him that way anyway, whether he did it or not.

With a sigh, he rolled back over, closed his eyes, and tried to get back to sleep.

 

[Pywakit]

Larissa

Larissa exhaled softly and slowly as she litened to Matthias roll over and fall asleep. Only when she heard his breathing become regular again did she open her eyes and pull her hand out from between her legs. Thankfully, it seemed that the aftereffects of the owlbear's stink were finally about worn off. Larissa forced herself to close her eyes, and by the end of a long, lonely hour, she was finally asleep.

* * * * * *

She woke to the smells of breakfast. Sitting up and drawing her ill-fitting clothes around herself, shivvering slightly in the cool morning air, she blinked the sleep from her eyes. Matthias was there, cooking what appeared to be a pair of game hens on a stick over the fire. He had just finished seasoning them from a pouch he'd drawn from his pack, and the smell immediately set Larissa's stomach growling. It seemed a little weird to be eating game hen for breakfast, but the elf was far too hungry to feel that way for long.

As Matthias cooked, Larissa spoke to him.

"It seems I owe you my life again, Matthias," she said. "I really don't know what I can do to repay you, but if there's anything I can do for you, know that you have only to ask me." She let the unsaid implications of her comment hang in the air for a moment. "Those birds really smell delicious, by the way. What kind of spices are you putting on them?"

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

Matthias almost jumped at the sound of Larissa's voice, and he turned towards her with a smile, "There's no need to mention it. I'm just glad you are safe. And I'm very sorry about not waking in time to stop the thing right away..."

Turning away for a moment, he put out the fire and allowed the game hens to cool off for a moment. Again, his mind came back to what had happened the night before. In that cave, the owlbear had had it's way with Larissa much like that Minotaur, though not with nearly as much intelligence. This behavior seemed so.. odd, and he had to assume it had something to do with her elven heritage. If that was the case, and she was still in danger, then Matthias would have to be more careful from now on. Any thing could come from any where at any time, and he would have to be ready.

Looking back at the silver haired elf, he grinned, "Oh, well, just some regular stuff. It's nothing special but it adds a bit of flavor. Sorry, but there weren't any rations suitable for breakfast that were salvageable from the saddle bags. I hope you don't mind game hen."

Handing one over to her and immediately tearing into his own, it did not take long for Matthias to devour the roasted bird. His stomach was eternally grateful, and it ceased it's growling for the moment. It took a bit longer for Larissa to finish, and though she was probably as hungry as him, he knew it was because no elf would lower themselves to such a state that they would eat like a common animal. But, with breakfast cooked and soon after eaten, they picked up their things, and began travelling towards Dungate.

"Larissa, can I ask you a question? What did you mean by, 'anything'?"

 

[Pywakit]

Larissa

The elf looked over at Matthias as he asked his question. She smiled faintly at him before looking back to the road ahead. According to him, they would be sighting the walls of Dungate soon, but so far they'd passed no traffic on the road. Either Dungate wasn't a very popular destination, or the road they were approaching on was a less-used one.

"What do you think I meant?" she responded, and then her expression grew somber. "I've no longer got a home, you see. I can't go back to Karond, and that's as close a home I've ever known. My armor and weapons are gone, and though I've got a nice-sized nest egg of gold hidden in Karond, I can hardly get to it now. I'm alone, I've got no goals, no friends, nowhere to turn. If you hadn't saved me, twice, I'd have been dead twice over. And if you hadn't invited me along, I suppose I would have just wandered off in a daze in a random direction to eventaully be eaten by monsters... or worse."

She sighed. "So really, what I do next is in large part in your hands. I'm in debt to you, Matthias. Elves live for centuries, and that life is precious. That life is yours now. I have nothing to repay you with but my devotion and my body, is what I'm saying. If you want me in that way, I'm yours. If you need me to do some other service for you, I'm your woman." She forced a smile. "So I suppose that's what I meant by anything. Oh!" She half-stood in the saddle, peering ahead. "Is that Dungate ahead?"

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

Matthias blinked for a moment as he looked in the direction Larissa was pointing in. Peering ahead, he smiled, then grinned. It was Dungate, and glancing at the elf, he nodded to her question. However, he didn't change his pace. Reaching out and taking her hand to get her attention, Matthias looked her straight in the eye, "Larissa, there is no need for that. It is my duty to protect you, and I deserve no reward from you because of that. We are the last remaining members of our guild, that I know of, and because of that, we need to stay alive so we can both figure out what happened."

"If anything, I am the one who should be at your mercy and doing whatever you wish. You are an elf, and I'm just a mere human. I'll protect you for as long as I can," He picked up his pace, heading down the road towards the small village of Dungate. Turning his attention back to the silver haired elf, he smiled weakly.

"My mother used to read stories of the elves to me when I was just a small boy. She said once that, 'When an elf dies, the trees and plants of the forest, and the animals that dwell there, feel it. The animals will weep for months, and the trees closest will wither and lose their leaves, as though it were winter already, and they will not grow leaves until a year and a day after the death occured'. That day, I made myself a promise that no elf would ever die on my watch, and I intend to keep that promise."

Matthias, for the rest of the walk to Dungate, was quiet. Though, when they entered the town, he seemed to have brightened up, "Well.. let's see if we can find someone who can sell you some new weapons and armor. Hmm, what about that shop over there?"

 

[Lotharian]

Gimric's hammer came down hard upon the red iron he was shaping into a piece of art. The Dwarf's long orange beard tinged with off blackish colours from the dust of the coals use in the forge, and his body fairing a healthy coat of sweat from the hard work. The steam pored out of the water bucket as Gimric placed the shaping blade within it and withdrew it quickly, intending only to make it less maleable as the blade had taken the shape he wanted.

Gimric took a moment to look over the blade forming before him, running a hand through his beard and playing with his Grens, small pieces of iron jewlery woven into his beard. The Grens were used amongst the Dwarves to symbolize whom a person was, the more you had the higher up in rank you were with the Dwarves. Gimric bore two that showed his two places of status amongst the Dwarves, one as an axeman and the other a smithy. Most non-dwarves didn't know the code to them, so having them here in the human lands were pretty pointless. But... it gave him a bit of taste of home, which is one of the most precious things to a Dwarf.

Gimric hummed an old Dwarven tune as he drew a smalled hammer from his brown smithing apron. He went to set his other hammer down and dropped the damn think on his thick leather boots instead. With a quick cus in dwarven he fetched the hammer and put it back upon the anvil. Whipping his hands on his brown slacks to get off some of the sweat, Gimric continued. He heard the tingle of the bells as someone stepped on the pressure plate at the entrance of his smithy.

Gimric was proud of his simple shop. It was a small, two story building with a little wooden overhang made in the back where his forge was. His living room was in the floor above and his shop and the downstairs was his store. The walls held a variety of display pieces he had crafted, some of which he used when he went on expeditions for materials. Gimric noticed a man standing in the room and the Dwarf got a wide smile upon his face.

"Welcome ta the Golden 'ammer! I be Gimric of the great Mythril-fists o' Gorodin!" Gimric said, his face and tone full of pride and seeming very inviting... until he spoted the silver haired buxom Elf following him. His tone quickly soured, as the ages old rivalry between Dwarf and Elf took him. "An' what are ya seekin'?"

His somewhat bulbous face (that his people were known for) scrunched as he gazed hard at the two.

 

[Pywakit]

Larissa

"But... I don't have any gold... I thought I mentioned that..." Larissa began, but Matthais just held up a hand to silence her, then jingled the belt pouch in his other hand. Larissa closed her mouth and blushed... it was so strange being at the mercy of fate like this, and the fact that Matthais seemed to want to help her without asking for anything in return just seemed too good to be true. She made a promise to herself... to keep track of every single penny he spent on her, so that she could eventually repay him for his kindness.

She took in the sights of Dungate as they passed along its streets and sighed in relief. This was a significantly smaller city than she was used to, but it was far from a vilalge. Dungate was a legitimate center of business, and given time, Larissa was certain she'd be able to re-establish herself as one of the region's most notorious thieves. Of course, she'd have to change up her tactics, her calling cards, and her methods a bit; she'd made quite a stir back in Karond as the Vixen Thief, and it just wouldn't do to fall back into those ways and get recognized.

Matthias seemed to know where he was going, and they'd finally reached their destination; a small, smoky looking forge and weapon shop. Larissa tentatively entered the building behind Matthias, and when she heard the gruff voice of the place's owner she gritted her teeth.

"Great," she thought to herself, "A dwarf." She'd never gotten along with the bearded folk, and only partially because of the long tradition of rivalry between their two races. But looking around his shop, she quickly realized this dwarf wouldn't be a good one to piss off. Not only did he look more than capable of breaking a few tender elf bones in his beefy hands, but judging from the craftsmanship of the weapons hanging around on the walls... he really knew his stuff.

"I... I'm looking for some daggers. Easy to hide, balanced for throwing, edged on both sides. A half dozen should do... but for armor. I doubt there's anything here that'd fit. And besides, I tend to go for armor that's a bit more form-fitting and less apt to get caught up on anything around me."

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

Matthias was just as surprised as Larissa at the sight of the blacksmith. The last time he had been in Dungate, he had seen no dwarves. Elves were a rarity in Siirin, and Dwarves were as well. However, Dwarves rarely came to Siirin because they were so enamored with practicing and perfecting their craft. The tales said that the mines in the mountains of Gorodin were miles upon miles deep. When a dwarf did leave their homeland, it was usually in order to sell their wares to those who would pay a great deal for them. Dwarven weaponry, armor, and tools were the absolute best, and because of that, they could be terribly expensive.

However, while surpised and amazed by the presence of a Dwarven blacksmith, there was also the troubling matter of having an elf and a dwarf in the same room. The two races were well known for their rivalry towards one another, and they rarely got along. Many a human had tried to get the two races to work together, but they rarely understood the largest part of what kept the rivalry strong. For whatever reason the hatred towards eachother started, it was doubtful that it would end when many of the elves and dwarves, that were there when it happened, still lived.

Matthias glanced at the both of them before moving closer to the long-bearded dwarf, "Sir Gimric of the Great Mythril Fists of Gorodin, as you can see, my Elven compatriot requires new weaponry. We were attacked only two nights ago, and much of our equipment has been lost. I would also ask that you repair my blade. I have had little use for it until recently, and I am afraid it is dull and weak. I am certain your unequaled skills as a smith could improve it," Untying the scabbard from his belt, he held it out to Gimric.

The human was obviously nervous, as he realized that the dwarf might refuse. And he also knew that the longer the elf and him were in the same room, the tension would continue to rise until they were yelling at the top of their throats about what this dwarf, very very old by now, had done to an elf that she was distantly related to, and vice versa. Removing the pouch of gold, he poured most of it out and handed it to Gimric before moving towards the door. Larissa still needed armor that was better for her, which meant finding a leather worker.